“Books flew out the melting windows like panicked birds, their wings bright and phosphorescent. They were beautiful for a moment, the town remembers, the way a heart is beautiful in the moment before it breaks.”
“She knew it was wrong to cast judgement without evidence, but still she stayed wary and alert, in case this dragon turned out to be the nefarious sort.”
Miss 11 chuckled as she cosied up to me, reading ‘together’ with me as she likes to do. “Guess who “I” is?” she asked me. I kept guessing and she kept chortling, “No! Wrong!” Indeed, that was part of the uniqueness of this story, that the first person narrator is kept very mysterious, until the very end.
Kelly Barnhill’s writing is amongst the best in middle-grade I’ve ever come across, and in some ways “The Ogress and the Orphans” is really a children’s book for adults.
I found it fiercely allegorical, with chillingly familiar references to politics and wily deceitful politicians who make mellifluous speeches, overall mirroring our terribly fragmented world. However, the story is also entwined in simpler universal truths such as the evils of suspecting your neighbour as well as the enduring beauty of acts of kindness, however minuscule or simple.
The characters were rounded and fascinating. Anthea is the personification of Logic, Bartleby Philosophy and Cass Action. The cobbler’s wife is Conscience Regained, coupled with Action and Advocacy, which makes her my favourite character amongst the townsfolk. The Mayor is Greed and Deceit personified.
The book is somewhat depressing, especially for adults as we can relate all too well to the spiralling vortex of persistent irrational thinking, such that the sense of frustration and despair is palpable throughout most of the book. Why can’t they just see? Why can’t we just see?
The tragedy of misdirected hate unfolds, amidst the jingoism of “Make this town lovely again” and town rallies all too reminiscent of that headed by an orange-faced man predisposed to twittering silly fake news.
What resonated also was the characterisation of libraries as deeply magical, where time unravels and books multiply and rearrange themselves. Libraries are indeed the soul of a town, and it reminded me of how constantly grateful I am that Singapore has such well-designed libraries that are so well-stocked with both new and old books. As a former school librarian, I will always have a special place in my heart for libraries, and the promise and mystery of the tomes that they hold. I love the wondrous feeling of being lost amidst the stacks, as well as remembering entire mornings hidden in a stuffy study carrel, peering out of a tiny window of a building with awesome gothic architecture constructed in 1930.
Beautiful lyrical prose undergirds the entire story, and the ending of The Ogress and the Orphans is utterly delicious. Indeed, the solution is books! (For me, especially one Good Book, which holds all the wisdom that one needs in the world.) Intricately illustrated, hand-written books that give rise to reading, thinking, discussing, mutual understanding and most importantly a galvanising to action for the greater good.
I persisted on in this book, pressing on for my happy ending. These days, I particularly appreciate middle-grade books because in this awful world today I feel an especially dire need of happy endings.
In all, this is just the kind of book I hope to write one day.
10/10 ⭐️
Thanks @definitelybookskids for sending this over!
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