Illuminations
T Kingfisher
Illuminations begins on a typical T. Kingfisher note -- with an eleven-year-old sitting in her room, bored stiff. Rosa belongs to a family of artists, and she herself likes to draw. She is particularly fond of drawing fanged radishes. (Like how do you do that? Where does one put the fangs on a radish?) If you've read a lot of Kingfisher, "fanged radishes" will feel like a very Kingfisher note.
But Rosa has a problem. The art made by her family, the Mandolinis, is magical. Their drawings and paintings have magical properties, like repelling rats or repelling fire. These magical pictures are called Illuminations. Rosa's radishes, however, have no magical properties that anyone can identify. (It turns out that winged radishes ward off sickness, but Rosa just doesn't want to draw winged radishes.) Everyone in the Mandolini family can feel that there is SOMETHING about Rosa's fanged radishes -- they are magic-adjacent, if not quite magical.
At this point, you can probably figure out what the story is going to be. It's going to be a sort of parable celebrating individual artistic expression, and Rosa and her fanged radishes will become some sort of heroes. And it's gonna be one of those books in which an artist (albeit a writer, not a painter) tells her audience how wonderful art is and how wonderful it is to be an artist.
You know, Kingfisher (AKA Ursula Vernon) is one of my favorite authors. She has an off-kilter creativity that really appeals to me, and a great sense of humor. But (you knew there was gonna be a "But") this one just missed for me. It felt like an orgy of self-congratulation that, in the latter half of the book, became tedious.
Comments
Post a Comment
Add a comment!