The Voyage of the Basset by James C. Christensen

I have always loved James C. Christensen's artwork, so one day while I was waxing poetic to my friend Sheila about his art, she said, "Wait a minute, I know that name sounded familiar. TELL ME you've read The Voyage of the Basset?"

Well I HADN'T. So naturally I immediately sought it out...

And let me tell you: this book is gorgeous. I knew it would be, of course; every page is illustrated by Christensen.

As I read, at first I worried that it would be more of a mythology review than an actual story. Mr. Aisling and his two daughters go for a walk one night and find a ship awaiting them: The Basset. They set out on a voyage of discovery, visiting royal fairies and other legendary creatures. But as they continue on their way, and I continued through the book, there are dangers both obvious and subtle in store for them.

I really liked the way the story was woven and the resolution. And the reminder that "By believing, one sees." Pretty apt for those of us who love fairy tales and mythology, isn't it?

This is definitely a little heavier than your typical picture book, but it's well worth checking out, both for the story and OF COURSE for the artwork. It's a bit pricey, used on amazon, but you can probably get it through your library. And if you can't, you tell them to get a copy!

The Secret of Kells

Before I tell you about this movie, I have to tell you about this DVD. Because it is an adventure in and of itself.

See, I heard about The Secret of Kells over a year ago, before it was out on DVD, and I knew I had to see it. I've been fascinated with the Book of Kells since I discovered its existence during some research project or other in high school, and here was a movie about the making of that very book. And, well, if you've seen the previews, perhaps you'll understand my simple longing for such a gorgeous piece of cinema.

So after it came out, I waited a month and requested it from my local Interlibrary Loan. (Because it's important to use libraries!) And it was just... utterly unavailable. (Which is good. People should be watching this.)

At last I gave up, and told my mother, librarian extraordinaire (who can blame me for being a book addict, I ask you?!) to order it for her library, which is an academic library. But people will need to study this film! So it's completely justified.

Well I had my name on the request, so I figured it was only a matter of a couple weeks until the film would come to me. Little did I know that darker forces were brewing... or a sticky tab went astray... or something... and before I'd ever seen it on the shelf, someone else had checked it out.

And that person... a bane on all libraries... returned the DVD case without the movie inside!

I know. You're shuddering in horror.

Well, the kind librarians persisted in phone calls on my behalf (and the behalf of the library's DVD collection, I suppose) and the movie was returned. And set into my own mother's hands. And then at last she mentioned she had it for me!

"But you can't take it tonight," she said. "I started it last night and I have to finish it first."

Treachery!

And then at last I watched it, and it was worth all the waiting and twists and turns of fate, to bring me here.

This is, simply put, the most beautiful movie I've ever seen. With what is at times deceptively simple animation, the art goes into intricate detail, swirling and glowing in a way that is rightly reminiscent of the illuminated manuscript from which it takes its inspiration.

The other inspiration for the movie comes from a poem called Pangur Bán (white fuller) which was written by an Irish Monk about his cat. And the cat in question is quite important in the movie, although how closely this ties to the poem is questionable. (The poem compares mousing to study.) In any case, the cat is a delightful addition to the the cast of characters.

Part of what I love about this movie is the idea that the illuminated manuscript is somehow unworldly. It's not explicitly stated in the film, but the implication that the book wouldn't have come to be without Faerie aid is certainly present. Aisling (who at first appears to be a lost little girl, and then is revealed to be rather more) aids Brendan in collecting the things he needs for the book, and in doing so draws the parallel between this story and the historical movement of Paganism giving way to Christianity in the region.

But before I get entirely scholarly and obscure, back to the movie.

Oh, the art. The art! I've included more pictures than I usually do because the movie is just so visually stunning. If I were to capture every image you should see, I would have to lay out the entire movie on my blog. So please see it!

The music is lovely as well. I noticed it a few times, and I usually pay no attention at all to music, at least on the first viewing of a film. That's normally something that sinks in the second time I watch a show. But this music appealed to my deeper nature. Here's a little sample (although a snippet of it was in the preview):

My one warning on this--and it's not a quibble, because it's brilliantly done--is not to expect a normal story format. Although there's tension and danger, the climax is not about the war or the fighting or anything you normally see in cinematic storytelling. It's all about The Book, which makes for an oddly-paced little movie. Yet I think in this case, when the subject matter is a painstakingly beautiful piece of literary history, it is a perfect fit.

I hope you'll check this out; go to whatever lengths you must to see it. I hope you love it as much as I did.

Hush by Donna Jo Napoli

Hush tells the story of Melkorka, an Irish princess who was kidnapped by Vikings and taken to Iceland, and rebelled against her captivity by becoming completely mute. Napoli draws from Icelandic folklore, namely the Laxdœla saga, in which Höskuldr purchases Melkorka, believing her to be a mute thrall, and it's not until her son is born and he overhears her speaking that he realizes she can talk.

Napoli's version follows Melkorka from before her capture with her sister Brigid, through the birth of her son in Iceland. I found the story particularly effective in that Napoli is able to portray Melkorka in difficult situations, in a fairly passive role, without making her seem weak or submissive.

It's one of her more difficult books, in that it is often harsh subject matter: kidnapping and slavery being only the beginning of the story. It's not a happy fairy story, that's for certain, and I didn't find it as enchanting as some of Napoli's other works. For all that it's a hard story, it's well told, and if you enjoy the darker side of mythology, I'd suggest this one.

The Swan Maiden by Jules Watson

Last night I finished reading The Swan Maiden by Jules Watson. It took me a while to get into the book, maybe 100 pages before I felt like I was really invested in the characters and plot. Throughout the book there were passages that I skimmed and I think overall the book would have benefited from an editor determined to make it 75-100 pages shorter.

However, once I got into the story I really did enjoy it. The characters had enough depth to be believable as people, whereas reading the old myth you often just get the bare bones of the events. If you like Juliet Marillier, I think you'll find this comparable; although not as elegant as Marillier, Watson's story certainly falls into that same category of romantic mythology.

The book has 4.5 stars on Amazon.com customer reviews, but I think the most insightful comment I saw is from Publishers Weekly: "This modern retelling of a tragic Irish myth is rich in well-researched detail but moves too slowly and reverently."

I did find the last 100 pages or so to be stunning; whether Watson finally hit her stride or the pace of the story just picked up, I couldn't put it down for that last bit and found the ending to be compelling and well worth the read.