By the way, I'd like to point out that I don't necessarily have the glowing reaction I've lately demonstrated to every book that I've read. Lately, it seems, I've had extraordinarily good luck with books. In fact, I've only read two books in the last month that I was disappointed by; the first was The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan, which may be appointed to the fact that I am a Greek Myth enthusiast who nitpicks at any little reference, and who in general has trouble with books that star and are marketed towards the average preteen boy who develops special powers.
The second book that I had trouble with was Pure Dead Magic by Debbie Gliori. Being that it was essentially an Italian Addams family, I thought it sounded great. But it was not only so similar to the Addams Family that it stood on the border between 'parody' and 'copyright suit,' it also relied on gross-out humor, and had a villain without any redeeming qualities, both aspects I can't stand in books. And, let's be honest - after seeing The Godfather, is there anyone here who can view a Mafia Don as a purely evil villain?
Anyway, let us get on to a book that I did thoroughly enjoy - Keturah and Lord Death.
There is not an existent soul in Western society to whom the conventional fairy tale is unfamiliar. Ask anyone, and they will tell you that the story of the peasant boy or girl who eventually wins the heart – and hand of their beloved prince or princess, is the most ingrained in the minds of any who have heard such a tale. While it takes its inspiration from tales like these, Martine Leavitt’s Keturah and Lord Death is a far cry from anything you would find written by Charles Perrault. For one thing, the title’s mention of Lord Death is by no means symbolic. Keturah and Lord Death follows Keturah, a beautiful young girl living in the poor village of Tide-by-Rood.
One day, spying the majestic Hart that the Lord of Tide-by-Rood has been unable to catch, she follows it into the woods, becoming thoroughly lost. After staying in the woods for three days and three nights, without food, shelter, or warmth, Keturah encounters Lord Death. Desperate to keep her life, but unwilling to trade it for another’s, Keturah entrances Death with a story, refusing to tell the ending unless allowed to live. When asked what she has to live for, Keturah responds that she has yet to find her one true love. Amused, Death allows a twenty-four hour reprieve in which Keturah may find this ‘one true love.’ If unable to find her love, she will come with Death and become his bride.
And so begins a fairy tale so beautiful, sweet, and unconventional that it will impress even one jaded by traditional tales. While very romantic, in more than one definition of the word, this story contains realistic details that remind the reader of the grim medieval times in which it takes place. Among these are the use of trenchers rather than plates, and the spread of disease through vermin and lack of cleanliness.
Despite these grim reminders, or perhaps because of them, Leavitt brings to her readers a sense of wonder and belief, while at the same time showing us the dark beauty of Death and the fear each person has of its power. Keturah, herself, is a naive and idealistic teenage girl whose sense of what is good and just permeates each word of the narrative. Usually, stories primarily about death are, as a rule, tragic and depressing. Not so, with Keturah. There may never be a story about death as touching and beautiful as this.
By the way, just so you know, the week-long gap between this and the last review is most likely indicative of the future schedule.
I also deeply apologize if this review is briefer than the others. This will not be the case in the future.
There is not an existent soul in Western society to whom the conventional fairy tale is unfamiliar. Ask anyone, and they will tell you that the story of the peasant boy or girl who eventually wins the heart – and hand of their beloved prince or princess, is the most ingrained in the minds of any who have heard such a tale. While it takes its inspiration from tales like these, Martine Leavitt’s Keturah and Lord Death is a far cry from anything you would find written by Charles Perrault. For one thing, the title’s mention of Lord Death is by no means symbolic. Keturah and Lord Death follows Keturah, a beautiful young girl living in the poor village of Tide-by-Rood.
One day, spying the majestic Hart that the Lord of Tide-by-Rood has been unable to catch, she follows it into the woods, becoming thoroughly lost. After staying in the woods for three days and three nights, without food, shelter, or warmth, Keturah encounters Lord Death. Desperate to keep her life, but unwilling to trade it for another’s, Keturah entrances Death with a story, refusing to tell the ending unless allowed to live. When asked what she has to live for, Keturah responds that she has yet to find her one true love. Amused, Death allows a twenty-four hour reprieve in which Keturah may find this ‘one true love.’ If unable to find her love, she will come with Death and become his bride.
And so begins a fairy tale so beautiful, sweet, and unconventional that it will impress even one jaded by traditional tales. While very romantic, in more than one definition of the word, this story contains realistic details that remind the reader of the grim medieval times in which it takes place. Among these are the use of trenchers rather than plates, and the spread of disease through vermin and lack of cleanliness.
Despite these grim reminders, or perhaps because of them, Leavitt brings to her readers a sense of wonder and belief, while at the same time showing us the dark beauty of Death and the fear each person has of its power. Keturah, herself, is a naive and idealistic teenage girl whose sense of what is good and just permeates each word of the narrative. Usually, stories primarily about death are, as a rule, tragic and depressing. Not so, with Keturah. There may never be a story about death as touching and beautiful as this.
By the way, just so you know, the week-long gap between this and the last review is most likely indicative of the future schedule.
I also deeply apologize if this review is briefer than the others. This will not be the case in the future.
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