Mouse Type...or Man's Inhumanity to Mice...

"The Tale of Despereaux," by Kate DiCamillo:

This one was on my radar screen for months, but even when it won the Newbery Award I still didn't get around to it. Then Christine began reading it to her children at night, and her description was so amusing and her imitation of Despereaux's mother's French accent so hilarious, that I had to track it down immediately.

"This is the last...I will have no more mice babies. They are such the disappointment. They are hard on my beauty. They ruin, for me, my looks. This is the last one. No more."

Even the boys began imitating Christine's husband, Rod, who had joined the audience, taking turns pleading, "Awww, Honey, I want to hear the next chapter, too. Can't I just take out the garbage later?"

It began exactly as Christine had described it. Funny, spell-binding, ironic. The asides to the Reader were often flawless and quotable.

"Farewell" is not the word that you would like to hear from your mother as you are being led to the dungeon by two oversize mice in black hoods.

Words that you would like to hear are "Take me instead. I will go to the dungeon in my son's place." There is a great deal of comfort in those words.

But it has a dark side, also. And as time wore on, and more tragedy ensued, and the asides about "perfidy" and the "ridiculousness of love" mounted, I began wondering how much of this was entertaining the boys and how much was going over their heads. If DiCamillo wanted to add her dark little fairy tale to those of the Brothers Grimm, she succeeded. No one will read this book and forget it. But much of it is unnecessarily dark (indeed the book is all about darkness and light), and frankly I see too much of Lemony Snicket's influence.

Do kids get the joke? Sure they do. And I am amazed that Justin sees through as many of DiCamillo's tricks as he does. But Justin has the gift of a strong moral compass and keen insights into areas of moral ambiguity. Others will listen, and chorus as all my boys do, "That's just mean!"

It's a shame, really, to encounter a book that comes so close to perfect.

We've had fun, certainly, making the drum sounds, chanting "To the dungeon! To the dungeon!" together, and imitating accents and getting exasperated and crying, "Gor! I wish to be one of them itty-bitty princesses."

But a book which could have become a classic and a family favorite will, I predict, make it's way back onto the shelf and be replaced by something more heroic where there is no ambiguity at all about the characters living happily ever after.