THE LANGUAGE OF THORNS

Since it just came out in Spain, published by Editorial Hidra, I thought I maybe should review my favourite stories in this anthology of retellings of Victorian fairytales, right?



The Soldier Prince - This one was my favourite, a retelling of the Nutcracker story with Tin Soldier and Pinocchio elements, set in a provincial town in the island nation of Kerch, the counterpart Benelux with some influences from the Victorian UK (so much for evoking my Dutch senpai Liz!); mysterious foreign clockwork- and dollmaker Heer Droessen (AKA Drosselmeyer), renowned throughout local society, creates a prince in bright blue uniform that he gifts to Clara, the daughter of his patrons, for counterpart Christmas, intending to use the Zelverhaus children as pawns for his own sinister aims on a quest for power. Here Clara is the younger sister, Frederik AKA Fritz (a cadet who is gay) the older brother, and there is no Louise - so the siblings' birth order is just like in the Dumas version. Another detail straight out of the Dumas version is the family surname, this time Zelverhaus (Silberhaus=Dumas, Stahlbaum=Hoffmann)! So The Soldier Prince is far closer to Dumas than to Hoffmann! The parents are unhappily married grands-bourgeois of the local society, big fish in a small pond stuck in a marital crisis. And the nutcracker... this nutcracker doll believes he is a human royal or lieutenant, a person of flesh and blood, meant to love "Princess" Clara and to fight battles as a "Lieutenant" as second-in-command to "General" Frederik (plus something more, something queerer)... The rat king plays a key role I will not spoil here, but it suffices to say... The shock of reality, including his own reality -that he is a nutcracker doll-, is too much for him to handle. By the end, the clockwork creations of Heer Droessen come to life and claim their destiny, while the family lives of the Zelverhaus clan fall apart like a house of silver cards, in this story evoking white winters and officers in period uniform...

Droessen knew the properties of every kind of wood and paint and lacquer; he could finesse the gears of a clock until they spun with silent precision. And yet, though he could smile readily, charm easily, and play the part of a gentleman, he had never truly understood people or the workings of their steady-running but constant hearts.

Are you my soldier? ... Are you my prince? Are you my darling? Are you mine? 

He kissed her (Clara) beneath the stairs. He kissed Frederik in the darkened hall.
“Do you love her?” Frederik asked. “ Could you love me too?”
He loved them both. He loved no one.

"He can sleep in my room," said Frederik. 

“Yes,” said the nutcracker.

He'd fought bravely, and yet somehow, he always ended up here, alone in the dark.

Wanting is why people get up in the morning. It gives them something to dream about at night. The more I wanted, the more I became like them, the more real I became.

The nutcracker thought of the road again, but now he saw the road was a future—one his father would want him to choose for himself. He imagined the snow in his hair, the ground beneath his boots, the limitless horizon, a world full of chance and mishap and changing weather—gray clouds, hail, thunder, the unexpected.

She (Clara) considered her options and decided there was nothing for it but to become a writer. She sold her pearl earrings and moved to Ketterdam (the capital), where she took a small apartment with a window facing the harbour so that she could watch the ships come and go. There, she wrote fantastical tales that charmed children, and under another name, she penned rather more lurid works that kept her in nougat and sweet cream, which she always took care to share with the mice. 




When Water Sang Fire - This one is my second favourite, a Little Mermaid-inspired story (actually, a prequel or backstory for the dark sea witch and the Little Mermaid's and her sisters' parents!!) set in Fjerda, ie counterpart Scandinavia (most surely counterpart Sweden; since they are sworn enemies to Ravka, counterpart Russia, and "Fjerda" sounds more like "fjärd" than the Norwegian "fjord"). The basic premise is that three young merpeople who form a ménage à trois at the mer-king's court (recalling the ménage à trois in Fouqué's Ondine, the inspiration for Andersen) -Signe, a ginger mermaid; Ulla, a dark mermaid; and Roffe, a blond merman crown prince; all three with different personalities-, turn human and visit the surface; a coastal seat of learning to be more precise (the place is called "Söndermane", which sounds like Sudermania-Södermanland, right? So it would be like counterpart Turku or Uppsala). They trade their tailfins for legs and their gills for lungs without the need for bargains with mer-witches or voice-killing draughts, which means they get to keep their alluring siren-singing voices (that definitely subverts and puts a fresh spin on the Little Mermaid mythos!) along with their inhumanly beautiful looks.
Song was not just a frivolity then, something meant to entertain or lure sailors to their doom. The sildroher (merfolk) used it to summon storms and protect their homes, to keep warships and fishing boats from their seas. They used it to make their shelters and tell their histories. They had no word for witch. Magic flowed through all of them, a song no mortal could hear, that only the water folk could reproduce. In some it seemed to rush in and out like the tide, leaving little in its wake. But in others, in girls like Ulla, the current caught on some dark thing in their hearts and eddied there, forming deep pools of power.

There are elements of Black Swan and-or Swan Lake that make this not only a Little Mermaid retelling (in fact, this story is the backstory of the sea witch and the parents of the Little Mermaid and her older sisters!!), as a love quadrangle unfurls between the fiery Signe, the dark Ulla, merman prince Roffe, and a young scholar at the local university who turns out to have a strong connection to the merfolk... Blood will flow, innocents will have their hearts and lungs torn out of their ribcages, and the blood-dimmed tide is on the rise in this story told in a manner reminiscent of Ende's Neverending Story (printed in blue when the setting is underwater, and in red when it's on land).
Hope rises like water trapped by a dam, higher and higher, in increments that mean nothing until you face the flood.

REVIEW: THE NUTCRACKER AND THE 4 REALMS

THE NUTCRACKER AND THE 4 REALMS
my own review, thoughts, and why yours truly adored this version

Slavic, French, Germanic, and British influences: First things first, the story is set in Victorian London and its environs (when not in the magical lands of the Four Realms); there is like this connection between Victorian Christmases and London that lasts all the way from Dickens.

Clara's family have a Germanic surname - and, just like at the source (all adaptations since Dumas except a few, such as The Nutcracker Prince -animated-, have omitted the older sister), Clara is the middle sibling, having grown up in the shade of marriageable, attractive proper lady Louise and annoying little military brat Fritz. Just like Stannis Baratheon and Ivan Karamazov, and Two-Eyes in the Magyar folktale, having to deal with issues of favouritism has predisposed her to be sharp. Their surname (more on that below) is just the same as in the original Prussian tale by E.T.A. Hoffmann, hence, we shall have to explain the adaptation sequence:

1. Prussia, 1816: E.T.A. Hoffmann, Nussknacker
2. France, 1844: Alexandre Dumas, Histoire d'un casse-noisette
3. Russia, 1892: Marius Petipa (choreographer) & Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (composer): Щелкунчик (Shtchelkunchik).

This last adaptation - the Russian ballet based on the French Woolseyised translation of a Prussian fairytale - is the one that comes to mind to the general public across the globe.
It can be argued that all the intermediate adaptations have also left their mark:

The Sugarplum Fairy speaks French to give a more sophisticated impression, and the Nutcracker himself is named Philippe.

While the Slavic influences come in the form of a surprise-holding clockwork Easter egg that Clara inherited from her late mother, and which opens with a key the girl has not yet received (this is not unlike a Fabergé egg, but made by Herr Drosselmeyer), the Kremlin-esque palace of the Land of Sweets (the main setting for most of the film), and the roly-poly clown henchpeople of Mother Ginger's (the smallest of whom looks just like Ubu Roi!), who fit inside one another just like nesting dolls.

Most of the Prussian element from the original source is not only present within the characterisation of Clara's society family, but also with the heavy importance of the military in the Four Realms, including the uniforms of the mook army of tin soldiers, not to mention the fact that the Nutcracker here is not a prince, but a mere officer (more on that a few paragraphs below).


Stahlbaum instead of Silberhaus: The surname of Clara's family is here the one they have in the original Prussian fairytale. It was first Dumas who changed it (even explaining to the little French reader that "Silberhaus" translates to "Maison d'Argent"!), and this French version was the one most well-known in Russia, the one that Tchaikovsky, the choreographer Marius Petipa, and the audience heard in their Russian society childhood. But this adaptation makes them Stahlbaums once more, just like at the source: after all, a steel tree is something far harder and more nature-like than a silver house.

And there is a lot of arboreal symbolism in this adaptation to go along with it - Clara enters the Winter Realm through a tree trunk, the Easter egg has a tree-branch design on it - which may also refer to Yggdrasil, which comes as no surprise given that Herr Drosselmeyer is even more Odinic here than in any of his previous incarnations...


Odinic Herr Drosselmeyer: The missing eye and advanced age of the Stahlbaum children's adoptive grandfather (yes, here he was Mary Stahlbaum's guardian, making the maiden surname of the siblings' late mother Drosselmeyer; instead of their honourary uncle like in the source material and most adaptations) were, in all the previous incarnations of the character, a few Odinic allusions to establish him as a particular mentor archetype.

The Four Realms turns these associations to Odin up a notch (aside from making his connection to the Stahlbaums even closer) by having Herr Drosselmeyer as a Renaissance scholar who keeps a well-stocked library (that can rival that of the Beast last springtime!), a lot of clockwork and steampunk devices he has invented (the Easter egg McGuffin was a gift for the recently-orphaned Mary, just placed in his care, to open up), and even a whale shark and a blue whale mounted on the ceiling of his workshop/laboratory in the cellar of the Drosselmeyer estate!

He even has a feathered friend who serves as his eye in the Four Realms and guides Clara on her quest; even if we're not talking about two ravens, but a single eagle-owl for a pet and watcher, nevertheless it's a magnificent, regal specimen of Bubo bubo, most surely a female because of her size. All in all, it's quite impressive, and the fact that Clara even inherited the Drosselmeyer penchant for learning things and making gadgets from her mother and adoptive grandfather (three generations of Ravenclaws) cannot get clearer than this!


The Nutcracker Officer (not your Prince Charming): Seriously, the enchanted prince is overrated. Nowadays, many people ask themselves why an enchanted love interest has to be royalty... et voilà, Philippe in this adaptation is but a middling army captain!

I totally adored Philippe's defrosting, from dutiful officer who will never leave his post to Clara's not romantic love interest, but rather her more senpai figure and partner-in-adventures during the final battle and their heartwarming leavetaking, showing that intellectual relationships can also cause the same harrowing emotion. Also, the fact that he was a race-lifted chocolate hussar gives his pairing with Clara a smattering of Othello and Desdemona that was a quite positive surprise and added a lot to their chemistry!


The Flower Regent and the Snow Regent: Now, believe me, the Snow Queen, as conceived by Andersen developing winter goddesses a little further, is a character that has very rarely been gender-flipped. I can only think of Jack Frost (the evil adult in Rainbow Magic, NOT the mischievous child in Rise of the Guardians) and Simon Petrikov from Adventure Time, as well as Hetalia's General Winter, as other few and far-between instances of a Rule 63:d winter royal. Voilà that we can add another instance to our list!

Shiver is a gender-flipped equivalent to the Snow Queen... and that, though done before (see above), is really refreshing (pun intended).

Hawthorne appears to be a plant-person and is quite hilarious as comic relief. He even seems to take pride in being a literally rose-haired sweety dressed in a floral pastel three-piece suit to match.
Interestingly, when it comes to their whiskers, moustaches, and beards, both of the season-themed royals have frost and flowers, respectively, for facial hair - I appreciate the cleverness in that detail that adds a plus to their character designs.
PS. Did anyone else ship Shiver and Hawthorne? Or imagine them as younger versions with less facial hair? Anyone else had any wet dreams about that...?


Clara's Costumes

 
Soirée Gown: This lilac-leaning-on-royal blue dress -for every heroine in a Girls Underground classic except Gerda, who is most frequently depicted in red, has to wear blue (Alice, Dorothy, Wendy)- is worn by Clara at the Christmas soirée of the Drosselmeyer estate. It's pretty modest, even austere, contrasting also with her more mature older sister Louise in lace-collared pink brocade, and showing off more chest with that décolletage.

Coronation ("Josephine") Gown: This gown is worn by Clara during her coronation, upon learning that her late mother was royalty of the Four Realms, and at court shortly thereafter. It's an empire-style dress with a high waist and puffy sleeves brocaded in gold thread, reminiscent of the one Empress Josephine wears in the painting by David.

Her hairstyle, a spiral chignon set with pearl-drops and ribbons and leaves of gold thread, is also reminiscent of Josephine...

Hussar's Uniform: During most of the film, Clara is uniformed, being the only female hussar in Philippe's company.

Still, in spite of her shako, chignon (that frequently loosens into a queue), and finely soutached Prussian blue pelisse, she wears a skirt over her Wellingtons! Fortunately, this crimson skirt, its end embroidered with gold thread to fit the rest of the uniform, is loosely fitting and worn without petticoats, making Clara as free when it comes to movements as if she had worn trousers.

Victory Gown: This dress is worn by Clara in the finale, before returning to the real world where her mentor, father, and siblings anxiously await her. It's quite similar to the Josephine gown, but also has the white peacock motif of her royal ancestry.


The Military Men's Uniforms: Given that we've already talked about Clara's uniform, why not have a peek at what Philippe and the other guys wear into battle as well?

As we can see, our nutcracker captain looks dashing in his Prussian-style steel helmet and soutached (ie gold-braided) crimson hussar's pelisse, quite similar to Enjolras'. But his skin colour adds something even more adorable and fits perfectly in with the uniform.

The royal guards wear crimson hussars' pelisses to match Philippe's, since they are under his command. However, they all wear shakos instead of helmets, including the officers right below Philippe in the hierarchy.

Unlike the royal guards, the tin soldier mooks wear Prussian blue, with red details and hatted with shakos. The officers wear ... to distinguish them from the rank-and-file.

Mother Ginger the Rat Queen vs. the Sugarplum Fairy (Highlight for spoilers!):

Though she is as present in Dumas as in the source tale, most adaptations low the Rat Queen out of the group picture, leaving the role of antagonist wholly to her son and heir. Only a graphic novella made in Spain and the 2010 film The Nutcracker in 3D (the one set in Vienna Austria in the Roaring 20s, where Clara is renamed Mary, Fritz is renamed Max, and she has to go forth to seek her little brother whisked away into the rodent-occupied kingdom - also, Herr Drosselmeyer is replaced with Albert Einstein, and the rodent usurpers have a Nazi theme to them) did I know before Four Realms as previous adaptations that keep the fearsome matriarch as the real antagonist, and one to be reckoned with.
In this version, not only does Mother Ginger command all of these rodents - but the Rat King is not her child by blood, but rather a hive-mind made of all the rodents she has raised, that clump together in whatever arrangement suits their purpose best; in a way not quite unlike Ygramul the Many, but made of rats instead of bugs. Think the Other Mr. Bobinsky, from Coraline, and you get the idea.

Furthermore, she is in charge of this Gingerzord: an oversized clockwork/steampunk mobile suit based upon herself, with a circus tent for a petticoat -the centre of command would be in the chest or head of the mobile suit (never detailed). The tent-petticoat also contains enough room for hiding all of her rats and all of her roly-poly nesting-doll-clown henchpeople.
During the final battle, she was also a total badass, hiding inside the largest of all her henchpeople like a Trojan matryoshka to enter the palace, and then holding her own in battle with her tamer's whip, (SPOILERS) even though in the end she got practically tied with her own whip and then strapped to a table underneath the raygun... Luckily we never got to see that!
Mother Ginger is a badass, scarcely seen in anything but a masculine-looking outfit, quite skilled at using a whip in battle, and being a capable strategist, and is a Gadgeteer Genius and a heroic rebel who doesn't dress up until Clara's coronation after the climax.
At first, upon arriving in the Realms, Clara is told by the Sugarplum Fairy that it is her royal duty to stop a potential military invasion: Mother Ginger, in the misty and autumnal Realm of Amusements (full of carnival attractions, fog, rodents, autumnal woodlands, and amanita mushrooms), is planning to invade the other season-themed realms and become the sole ruler of all the Realms. There happens to be a dynastic crisis: With the High Queen of the Four Realms dead, Mother Ginger has turned against the other regents in hope of becoming the new queen. Only the true inheritor of the throne can save the day. Furthermore, both Sugarplum and Clara want a wind-up key that is in Mother Ginger's power: the key to the Easter egg which Clara inherited from her late mother.

However, (HIGHLIGHT FOR SPOILERS) it all turns out to be a decoy and the Sugarplum Fairy, so affable and cultured, is the real usurper, who needed a scapegoat to declare war against and take over that Realm, and then those of Frost and Flowers, with an army of tin soldiers brought to life using a steampunk raygun which the late Queen Mary had invented, and to which Mother Ginger had been entrusted the key. The same key which activates the life-giving raygun and opens Clara's mysterious Easter egg (which, if you are curious only contains a mirror, showing that like mother like daughter and thus everything Clara needs are the talents she inherited; and the mechanism to the musical box). In the late going, Clara realizes that "Everything you need is inside" has a double meaning. The egg is actually a music box with a mirror, literally showing her that everything she needs (courage, skill, etc.) is inside HER. She later applies this to the remaining regents, explaining how they can rule the Four Realms on their own while she returns to the outside world. The nostalgia comes from it being Mary's final gift to her, serving as a reminder to her daughter that everything she needs is inside and the song it plays being meaningful to the widowed Benjamin Stahlbaum (was it the first tune that he and Mary danced together, or the one that played during their wedding feast?).
That was the reason why Sugarplum (btw, it was so funny to see her eat her own cotton candy hair when she got tense! What would it taste like, cotton candy?) needed to have Clara head for the Realm of Amusements and fetch the key for her.


Which brings us to the question of the season: is Evil All Along a dead horse trope? Looking back at Sheev Palpatine, Hans in Frozen, or Ernesto in Coco... they all descend from Shakespeare's Iago, the prototype for this kind of villain, and hence the rarity of female twist villainesses. I can only think of Heloïse de Villefort and Dawn Bellwether, but still neither of them has been done with such a complexity as Sugarplum, who at first appears to be a true-to-life mentor and even shown doing funny things, like eating her own cotton candy hair... which threw us completely off-kilter. It could not be more satisfying when she got zapped by her own raygun, to which Clara had reversed the polarity, and became once more a porcelain doll

Fridge Brilliance

• Why is Sugar Plum the villain? Because too many sweets are bad for you!
• Mother Ginger's main weapon of choice is a whip. It's a "ginger snap.
• In the end, Clara decides that she will return to London while the four regents — Mother Ginger (who is innocent), Philippe (who replaces Sugar Plum), Shiver, and Hawthorne — will rule together and equally.

!


The invasion - putting on the reich... Fire Nation and Galactic Empire parallels, anyone?

It was also interesting to see the nutcracker and rat king fighting alongside each other, instead of against each other - as allies instead of enemies - isn't this a refreshing surprise consequence of the change of antagonist?

To cut a long story short, the way this film handled the steampunk aesthetic, the period costumes, and the source materials really took my breath away. I was wowed, having never seen such a version of the Nutcracker story, and this one kept me hanging on the edge of my seat...

• Scenery Porn: Goes along with Gorgeous Period Dress. Narnia-esque snow covered fir forest, red Slavic castle with waterfalls, gilding everywhere... You name it.