Valentine Week 2025: Fairytale Fantasy, Day FIVE

the day itself!

This year’s theme: RED RIDING HOOD

A reminder–The novels I’ll review during this year’s Fairytale Fantasy series:

Red Rider, by Kate Avery Ellison (2019, indie-published)—reviewed HERE

Wolves and Daggers: A Red Riding Hood Retelling, by Melanie Karsak (2018, indie published–Clockpunk Press, which seems to be owned by the author)–reviewed HERE

Beauty and the Werewolf, by Mercedes Lackey (2011, Harlequin Nocturne)–reviewed HERE

Crimson Bound, by Rosamund Hodge (2015, HarperCollins)–TODAY’S REVIEWED NOVEL

Scarlet, by Marissa Meyer (2013, Macmillan)

For the Wolf, by Hannah Whitten (2021, Orbit)

And finally: a medley of interesting outlier pieces, all based on Little Red

TODAY’S REVIEWED NOVEL:

Crimson Bound, by Rosamund Hodge (2015, HarperCollins)

You can find this novel on Amazon in hard cover, paperback, ebook, and audiobook formats. At Barnes & Noble, get it in paperback and ebook formats, and free as an audiobook with a Barnes & Noble audiobooks subscription–otherwise the audio CD version is pretty pricey. Both Kobo and Apple offer ebook and audiobook versions. Google Play sells the ebook version. Best of all, check out the author’s web site HERE to see how you can order the ebook through Bookshop.org, benefiting an indie bookstore of your choosing while also giving a bit of a commission to the writer. Visitors to Hodge’s web site will find other goodies there, including an alternate ending and a playlist for Hodge’s curated soundtrack. You can download that on Spotify right from her web site.

Hodge is a YA writer, and Crimson Bound is a YA book “inspired by” the Red Riding Hood story and also the opulent court of 17th century Versailles. It is packed full of lore–any fantasy reader who loves a book for its lore may love this one.

But while the story may have been inspired by Red Riding Hood, this is not really a fairytale retelling, in that not much of the fairytale remains. As Hodge comments in the book’s acknowlegements, she was also inspired by a different folktale, “The Girl With No Hands.” Another source of material, she says, are the Old Norse sagas Völuspá and Vǫlundarkviða, both part of the Poetic Edda. (The quickest way to find out about that cycle of poetic narratives is to start HERE and use the bibliography to go further.)

Crimson Bound offers up some of the familiar Red Riding Hood tropes. There’s a grandmother-like figure, the main character’s aunt. The main character faces a wolf-like creature in a scary woods and must choose between two paths. There’s also a red cloak. But as the story begins, Hodge teases the reader with snatches of what looks like a different folk tale entirely–maybe a little whiff of Hansel and Gretel. This tale turns out to be part of Hodge’s own intricate lore. How completely that lore is beholden to her sources of inspiration, I can’t really say, but they seem at odds with the courtly Versailles backdrop. On the other hand, we know that a lot of fairytale material was reshaped from folk tale into literary form by Charles Perrault, Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de la Force, and others at the court of the Sun King. Whatever its exact origins, any reader of Hodge’s novel can agree it is saturated with a fairytale atmosphere.

I found Crimson Bound to be a bit overwhelming. Every time I thought I had the characters sorted out and their motives figured out, the scenario got murkier. The novel is interesting in that the main character is no damsel in distress but a hardened killer, and a person who regards herself as damned. There is a lot of lore about demonic forces here, and a lot of questing for a magic sword that will somehow save the world from those forces. This is a world where the darkness is literally encroaching on the light, and the heroine must fight to save the world against the final darkness–in spite of knowing that she can just relax and be a demon. There seems to be allegory going on, although I was never quite sure.

As in most YA fantasy novels, the heroine is also torn between a dark dangerous sexy man and a more benign man.

I should mention, too, that the language is at times very beautiful–poetic in the best sense, not the cheap trashy Hallmark card sense. I admired that.

By the end of the novel, my head was spinning trying to keep track of so many bits of lore, so many mixed motives, so many outright obscure motives, so many ornate rooms in the palace. It was an interesting book, though.

AND ANOTHER THING: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!

Did Valentine’s Day really originate with Geoffrey Chaucer’s Parlement of Foules (Parliament of Fowls, Assembly of the Birds), when Chaucer envisions a day when a great congregation of birds assemble to choose their mates? “The lyf so short, the crafte so long to lerne. . .” Not only that, it’s really HARD to pick the perfect mate, especially when someone else, or some unstoppable force, or maybe peer or social pressure, is working on you to pick X when you actually love Y. Dame Nature in the end lets the beautiful female eagle make her own decision, in spite of the various pushy guy eagles who keep chirping (squawking?) “Pick me! Pick me!”

Or was the Roman fertility festival of the Lupercalia the real origin of Valentine’s Day? Or was it one of the many, many Saint Valentines of the Roman Catholic calendar?

As a lover of Chaucer, I vote for him. But I don’t think anyone really knows for sure. So eat lots of chocolates, grab yourself some fairytale fantasy, and read, read, read.

NEXT UP: A review of Scarlet, by Marissa Meyer (2013, Macmillan)

Valentine Week 2025: Fairytale Fantasy, Day FOUR

This year’s theme: RED RIDING HOOD

A reminder–The novels I’ll review during this year’s Fairytale Fantasy series:

Red Rider, by Kate Avery Ellison (2019, indie-published)—reviewed HERE

Wolves and Daggers: A Red Riding Hood Retelling, by Melanie Karsak (2018, indie published–Clockpunk Press, which seems to be owned by the author)–reviewed HERE

Beauty and the Werewolf, by Mercedes Lackey (2011, Harlequin Nocturne)–TODAY’S REVIEWED NOVEL

Crimson Bound, by Rosamund Hodge (2015, HarperCollins)

Scarlet, by Marissa Meyer (2013, Macmillan)

For the Wolf, by Hannah Whitten (2021, Orbit)

And finally: a medley of interesting outlier pieces, all based on Little Red

TODAY’S REVIEWED NOVEL:

Beauty and the Werewolf, by Mercedes Lackey (2011, Harlequin Nocturne)

You can find this novel, book six in a series titled A Tale of the Five Hundred Kingdoms, on Amazon (individual title and series in hard cover, paperback, ebook, and audiobook formats). At Barnes & Noble, you can find the novel in paperback and ebook, as well as all five of the others in the series. The Apple Store is confusing on the topic–looks like they do carry this novel in ebook and audio formats. Apple also offers all or mostly all of the other titles in the series in both formats, but it’s a little hard to tell. Kobo sells the novel in ebook format, as well as a three-volume box set including all six novels in the series. And if you are a U.S. reader, don’t forget your public library and the Libby app! Also a caution: another author has published a novel with the same title, so if you want to read Lackey’s novel, be careful you don’t order the wrong book.

Mercedes Lackey is a beloved fantasy writer, so I was glad to find she had written a Red Riding Hood-themed novel. . . or so it seemed. But the title suggests it’s a Beauty and the Beast retelling instead. Or is it? I’m confused. . .

As in a number of these novels retelling the story of Red Riding Hood, there is a lot of overlap between the two tales. You have a beast. You have a young woman in peril. It’s not a book for children. . .so I suppose the overlap makes a kind of sense, especially when you add in the werewolf connection to the Red Riding Hood tale.

As I began Lackey’s novel, I confess I felt a bit underwhelmed. There were a number of familiar Red Riding Hood tropes, of course: the woman in the red cloak, the grandmother, taking a basket of comestibles to grandmother’s house through a scary forest, the warning not to stray from the path, and then the straying from the path anyway, in spite of all the dire warnings. And finally, the wolf in all its ferocity and magnificence. I couldn’t help thinking of Greta Garbo’s exclamation at the end of Jean Cocteau’s iconic 1946 Beauty and the Beast film, when beast transforms to prince: “Give me back my Beast!”

The setting was interesting, too— a kind of Regency-romance setting, even though it was clear we readers weren’t, in imagination, entering actual Regency England. With the guns and all, was this another gaslamp retelling?

There were some gaslamp trappings. Mostly, though, there was none of that gaslamp gadgety feel to the thing but rather, a gothic atmosphere—the mysterious castle exuding danger, the lonely moors, a glowering gamekeeper. So okay, I thought— another Red Riding Hood-Beauty and the Beast hybrid, with the twist that the “beauty” is no conventional pretty damsel in distress but an unconventional heroine too independent-minded for the times or the story.

And that, readers, turns out to be the point of the novel. A character too independent-minded for the story. To my shame, I have never read anything by Mercedes Lackey before, and probably shouldn’t have started with this one. Also, this novel is the last novel in of a series of interconnected stories, A Tale of the Five Hundred Kingdoms, all fairytale retellings. Admitting that, I can also tell you I found Beauty and the Werewolf very intriguing. The magic system is elaborate and pretty fascinating. Maybe if I had read some of the earlier novels in the series, I would have caught on right away. Even without that advantage, I did get the drift pretty fast, and the story itself is stand-alone.

The fun in this retelling is the magic of this fantasy world. Here magic is overseen by powerful Fairy Godmothers who are on constant alert to keep a mysterious force called the Tradition from pushing and manipulating the residents of the world into predetermined story stereotypes. So Isabella, the Red Riding Hood character, is constantly being enticed onto one or more pathways of action determined by age-old story tropes— the damsel in distress, for example. The problem then becomes how Isabella can help the young duke cursed into wolf form ( the werewolf  theme again!) and remain in her own form without falling into any fairytale stereotype. Not to mention how she will be able to decide her true feelings as they whipsaw between two different hot men. There’s a continuing narrative about stepmother and stepsister relationships, too—another Beauty and the Beast incursion, with a lot of Cinderella thrown in. What a very meta, very clever way of retelling a story positively awash in storytelling tropes! I enjoyed this novel very much.

A note about fairytale tropes: Anthropologists and folklorists study these matters! When the Brothers Grimm collected Little Red Cap and all the other folktales they preserved, they were acting out of scientific curiosity and the 18th-19th century passion for observing and classifying everything in the world: Linnaeus for plants and animals, John James Audubon for birds, Dmitri Mendeleev for elements, Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm of Germany for their country’s folkways, tucked away and preserved in stories told in villages and out on remote farms.

Later on, the American folklorist Stith Thompson classified the elements of folk tales into a system of motifs, basing his work on that of Finnish folklorist Antti Arne. You can read more about this important work HERE, but the article is behind a firewall, unfortunately. If you want to find out more and you are just beginning a study of this field, don’t discount Wikipedia as a valuable starting point, especially the article’s footnotes and bibliography. Thompson’s and Arne’s work on indexing folklore motifs or tropes has been further refined by the German scholar Hans-Jörg Uther. In the Thompson-Arne-Uther Index, Little Red Riding Hood is classified as ATU 333, a classification called “Tales of Magic–Supernatural Adversaries” (and it also overlaps with ATU 123, a classification of animal tales). Find out more HERE and HERE.

I find it fascinating that Lackey, in her fairytale retellings, doesn’t stop at dressing up the story in new fictional clothes but actually explores (in a playful and highly entertaining way!) what it means to the world and human beings to possess such a treasure trove of stories, and to explore how we readers think about them and relate to them.

NEXT UP: A review of Crimson Bound, by Rosamund Hodge (2015, HarperCollins)

Valentine Week 2025: Fairytale Fantasy, Day Three

This year’s theme: RED RIDING HOOD

A reminder–The novels I’ll review during this year’s Fairytale Fantasy series:

Red Rider, by Kate Avery Ellison (2019, indie-published)—reviewed HERE

Wolves and Daggers: A Red Riding Hood Retelling, by Melanie Karsak (2018, indie published–Clockpunk Press, which seems to be owned by the author)–TODAY’S REVIEWED NOVEL

Beauty and the Werewolf, by Mercedes Lackey (2011, Harlequin Nocturne)

Crimson Bound, by Rosamund Hodge (2015, HarperCollins)

Scarlet, by Marissa Meyer (2013, Macmillan)

For the Wolf, by Hannah Whitten (2021, Orbit)

And finally: a medley of interesting outlier pieces, all based on Little Red

TODAY’S REVIEWED NOVEL

Wolves and Daggers: A Red Riding Hood Retelling, by Melanie Karsak (2018, indie-published)

Karsak’s novel, the second Red Riding Hood-themed novel I’m reviewing during Valentine’s Week 2025, is the first in a five-book series, The Red Cape Society. From Amazon, you can buy Wolves and Daggers (book 1) in paperback and in e-book format through the Kindle app and devices, and you can also buy the whole series either volume by volume or as a box set in either format. Apple Books and Barnes & Noble sell Wolves and Daggers in ebook format. Apple sells only book 1 of the series, but Barnes & Noble will also sell you a box set–only of books 1-3, though. Barnes & Noble will sell you an audiobook version, but only Book 1. If you like to consume your fantasy via audiobook, you are out of luck if you want the whole series as far as I know. This may change, or I may have missed a source, so check for yourself.

Karsak’s novel is a very clever gaslamp retelling of Little Red Riding Hood in the form of a detective story. Little Red herself is part of a Victorian detective agency charged with reining in criminal bands of werewolves. There are also good, helpful werewolves. Of course there is a grandmother, and of course there is a red cape (“The Red Cape Society” is the name of the detective agency, as well as the title of Karsak’s series).

You may have a question, if you’ve never read one of these: What is gaslamp fiction?

This is a subgenre of speculative fiction set in a fantasy-Victorian or adjacent parallel time, with gloomy noirish settings, the iconic gaslamps, crazy mechanical contraptions (airships!), and guns typical of the era–very similar to steampunk SF. Read THIS ARTICLE for an illuminating explanation. Three great examples of the gaslamp/steampunk subgenres: Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials books, and China Miéville’s Perdido Street Station and the other two novels in his Bas-Lag trilogy. Karsak’s novel is very much lighter than those giants of speculative fiction (of any fiction, any time–my opinion), but her book is very short, almost novella-length, and it is a lot of fun.

As Agent Clemeny Louvel, aka Little Red, chases down the evil werewolves with the help of her detective partner and the good Knights Templar werewolf Sir Richard Lionheart, expect all sorts of in-jokes like the jokey chapter titles, an appearance by Queen Victoria herself, a continuing riff on the “oranges and lemons say the bells of St. Clements” rhyme, old-timey motorcars, jokes along the lines of “what big eyes you have” and “straying from the path.” Most fun of all, the name of the queen’s secret investigative service, The Rude Mechanicals.

Readers can also expect the usual werewolf lore involving a pack structure of Alpha and Beta wolves, silver as a surefire werewolf killer, and the like. I don’t know if the other books in the series go on to feature other members of “the unhuman,” but this first novel mentions a number of them, including goblins, vampires, and more. But what is it with werewolves and prizefighting? Is that a part of the lore I just don’t know about, or is it a coincidence that more than one of the books I’ve chosen this week uses prizefighting to underscore the feral power of werewolves? I may be too much of a werewolf novice to know.

The Red Riding Hood connection in this novel is more of a running joke than a true retelling, but it is very charming. The book is well-written but–well, I called it “light” but maybe “slight” is a better term for what I experienced. The characters aren’t terribly well-developed, and the plot is over in a flash (literally). I’m thinking the whole series develops these matters more thoroughly, though. I doubt I’ll read on–although I might, if only to see what the author does with the Rude Mechanicals, but I did enjoy this first volume, and I was very appreciative that the novel doesn’t simply stop. It forges a nice connection to the next in the series without hurling me headfirst off that annoying cliff. I’m figuring that in part this is because the series is not one huge extended uber-novel but a series of episodes nested in the overall Little Red concept.

On a personal note, I like how these first two novels I’ve reviewed are indie-published. If you don’t know a lot about the publishing industry, you may not know what that means. In the past, a writer would be published by one of the traditional publishing houses or not at all–self-publishing usually meant publication by one of the “vanity presses” that preys on clueless or disconsolate unpublished writers–still does, but back then, with even more success parting a would-be writer from her money with little or nothing to show for it. Today, four things have happened: through technology such as word processing, self-publishing has become a viable DIY way to produce a book; ebooks have become a big part of readers’ personal libraries and preferred ways of reading; emerging publishing platforms–Amazon’s Kindle and publishing-on-demand, Barnes & Noble’s Nook, Apple’s I-books, Kobo’s ebooks–accept indie-published books and present them alongside trad-published books to potential readers; and traditional publishers have undergone drastic consolidation and acquisition by conglomerates that don’t necessarily care about books. In the process, traditional publishers’ marketing and nurturing of all but their most celebrated authors have dwindled. You can read about it in this really informative blog post. A similar situation has happened in the recording industry. The problem with being indie-published (I am, so I know) is that an author doing this needs to be as good a marketer as she is a writer. There’s overlap between good writing and good marketing, but any individual author might not be equally good at both. Ask me how I know THAT!

I’m very pleased that two of the books featured in my blog this week come from indie authors. The featured writer for today, Melanie Karsak, also employs what is known as an “imprint”–a business name for her book publishing endeavor. For example, mine is Shrike Publications. But in Karsak’s case, she really does seem to have incorporated her imprint into a small business–a “boutique publishing company,” the web site calls it–Clockpunk Press. I should investigate to see if that’s how she has published all her books. There are many, and the ratings on Amazon for this first Red Riding Hood book are high.

NEXT UP, TOMORROW, as Fairytale Fantasy Week continues: Beauty and the Werewolf, by Mercedes Lackey