Entwined -- Heather Dixon
Just when I thought I'd rather pull an Oedipus (the eyes, not the mom) than read yet another re-telling of "The Twelve Dancing Princesses", along came Heather Dixon's Entwined, which somehow managed to feel fresh and original and charming AS WELL AS adding humor and suspense to a story that we all know every in and out of WHILE STILL staying true to the original.
Seriously, I'm still not sure how she managed it. This book was pure enjoyment.
Azalea is the oldest of eleven—soon to be twelve—princesses. She's about to enjoy (legitimately, this time, rather than sneaking downstairs to watch as she and her sisters have done in the past) her first ball, which will hopefully be the first of many. (Her family's financial situation only allows for them to host one ball a year, at Yuletide, but there will be balls hosted by others.)
But, then: Tragedy strikes. (You knew that was coming, yes?)
Suddenly Azalea has eleven younger sisters—including Lily, the newborn—to care for, a mother to mourn, and a father who is even less available than he was before. All this, and the stipulations of mourning require that the mourners give up dancing—this, despite the fact that dancing is the only thing that brings the girls any comfort, as it reminds them of their mother.
But then she discovers the secret passage...
Awesome world: Although there are still pockets of it here and there, magic has been mostly wiped out, and is hugely distrusted due to the Very Bad Things done by a former king.
Awesome characters: There are all of the sisters, of course, who are wonderful and quirky and each have their own individual personalities. (Imagine!) There's the King, who is clearly broken-hearted and no, doesn't really appear to be a Shining Star of the Fathering Type at first—but give him time! There's the Big Bad, who is the most creepy-ass creepster who ever creeped. And there are the suitors, both suitable and not. I laughed at the unsuitable ones and fell in love with the suitable ones (yes, all of them), but especially with Lord Teddie, who apparently wandered in off the pages of a Wodehouse book:
He gave a wan smile, and stumbled on. "I—I wish I didn't have to go. These past several days have been ripping. Rippingly ripping. I—I'm awfully chuffed about you all. I . . . sort of feel at home here."
Wodehousian dialogue is even more hilariously ridiculous when ONLY ONE person is using it. Brilliant move, that.
Awesome relationships and dynamics between just EVERYONE.
Have I used the word awesome yet?
If you dig the fairy tale books, be sure not to miss this one.
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Previously:
Princess of the Midnight Ball
Wildwood Dancing
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Book source: ILLed through my library.