I’ve seen many different versions of the classic Cinderella story over the years. One of the most unusual is Cinderella Skeleton,
a ghoulish take on the fairy tale that is written by Robert D. San
Souci and illustrated by David Catrow, an exceptional artist whose work
has wowed me in the Christmas books How Murray Saved Christmas, Merry Un-Christmas and Silly Dilly Christmas Songs: Where Did They Hide My Presents?.
As
you might guess from the title, in this version, Cinderella is a
skeleton, and so is almost every other character in the book. The look
is quite comparable to The Nightmare Before Christmas and Corpse Bride;
it’s macabre, yet there’s also a definite sweetness to it. Cinderella
herself is just as kind and gentle as she is in any version I’ve
encountered, and her stepfamily is just as cruel. The prince, meanwhile,
is dashing as can be in a sharp blue uniform with gold epaulets that
reminds me a lot of the Beast’s duds in the ballroom scene of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast.
The
basic contours of the story really are pretty much the same. Cinderella
is a poor overworked girl who lives with her frivolous, mean-spirited
stepsisters and stepmother. There is no mention of her father, and
really, considering the circumstances, that seems a bit odd; if they’re
all dead, then shouldn’t her father be with them? But maybe in this
version of the story her father died far from home. Or maybe he’s the
only one still alive. In any case, though, Cinderella Skeleton is a
dreamer, and she longs above all else to attend the Halloween Ball. She
is more proactive than most in that instead of having a fairy godmother
come to her in her hour of despair, Cinderella seeks out the aid of a
wood witch. What’s more, she goes and collects the objects the old – but
seemingly not deceased – woman recommends.
It is perhaps
fitting that a Cinderella who takes such initiative should be given a
longer visit with her prince. She is allowed to remain at the ball until
morning – by the sky, not the clock. Thus, there is more time for the
two bony lovebirds to make a real connection. In a rather unnecessarily
grotesque move, the prince ends up with not just his ladylove’s shoe but
her foot as well, but at least there’s no blood involved as he searches
his unconventional kingdom, severed foot in tow.
Yeah, that
part sounds a bit gross, and it is, but it’s very much in keeping with
the overall style of the book, which has a definite beauty about it
despite the icky images. Catrow’s artistry in watercolor and pencil is
unmistakable, and Cinderella still manages to look beautiful in her
delicate blue lace draped over her like gauzy spider webs. Her empty
sockets somehow look as sparkly as they would with eyes in them. The
magnificent castle, complete with ominous vulture gargoyles, nearly
shimmers in the pinkish glow of a fading sunset as a moon of monstrous
size rises.
Meanwhile, the narration is finely crafted and
complex. Each of the 26 stanzas contains seven lines, the first of which
is “Cinderella Skeleton,” sometimes followed by punctuation. The other
six lines follow the pattern ABBCCA, and the rhythm is consistent with
wiggle room of a syllable or two. It’s a rather unusual pattern, and
because of the distance between the first main line and the last, one
almost has the tendency to forget what word is being rhymed. This is a
book best read slowly. It certainly was written that way, with San Souci
clearly relishing the clever wordplay as he carefully crafted each
image. The descriptions make me chuckle and wince all at once. Take, for
instance, this declaration of love from the prince: “Your gleaming
skull and burnished bones, your teeth like polished kidney stones, your
dampish silks and dankish hair, there’s nothing like you anywhere!” Aww.
How touching.
This book really is exquisite in its own way.
However, I do question the age recommendation of 3 to 7. I think that
some aspects of this book might well freak out a child that young.
What’s more, the complicated and formal way in which is it written seems
likely to me to bore many kids in the read-aloud set. Frankly, the
group I see embracing this book most readily is the Hot Topic crowd. All
those teens who happily scoop up Jack Skellington merchandise would
probably find this picture book a delightful Halloween diversion. I
wouldn’t put a lot of stock in the age printed on the back, but if you
know a child entranced by gothic imagery and willing to sit through some
fairly lengthy poetic narration, Cinderella Skeleton is a surprisingly sweet Halloween treat.
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