The Door in the Hedge [Paperback]

Robin McKinley (Author)

Book Description

Publication Date: October 13, 2003

Master storyteller Robin McKinley here spins two new fairy tales and retells two cherished classics. All feature princesses touched with or by magic. There is Linadel, who lives in a kingdom next to Faerieland, where princesses are stolen away on their seventeenth birthdays-and Linadel's seventeenth birthday is tomorrow. And Korah, whose brother is bewitched by the magical Golden Hind; now it is up to her to break the spell. Rana must turn to a talking frog to help save her kingdom from the evil Aliyander. And then there are the twelve princesses, enspelled to dance through the soles of their shoes every night. . . . These are tales to read with delight!

Editorial Reviews

Review

Robin McKinley knows her geography of fantasy, the nuances of the language, the atmosphere of magic. . . (The Washington Post)

About the Author

Robin McKinley won the 1985 Newbery Medal for her book The Hero and the Crown, and a 1983 Newbery Honor for The Blue Sword, both set in mythical Damar. She is also the author of Beauty, a retelling of Beauty and the Beast. She lives in England.

In Her Own Words...

"I was an only child and my father was in the Navy. We moved every year or two—California, Japan, upstate New York, New England. I early found the world of books much more satisfactory than the unstable so-called real world. I can’t remember the first time I read Frances Hodgson Burnett’s but this particular story, about a little girl all alone in a strange land who told stories so wonderful that she believed them herself, fasci-nated me. I never quite lived up to Sara Crewe’s standard, but I tried awfully hard.

"Writing has always been the other side of reading for me; it never occurred to me not to make up stories. Once I got old enough to realize that authorship existed as a thing one might aspire to, I knew it was for me. I even majored in English literature in college, a good indication of my fine bold disdain for anything so trivial as earning a living; I was going to be a writer, like Dickens and Hardy and George Eliot. And Kipling and H. Rider Haggard and J.R.R. Tolkien. I was, however, going to tell breathtaking stories about girls who had adventures. I was tired of the boys always getting the best parts in the best books. What with reading and making up my own stories, I spent most of my life in my head; about the only irresistible attraction reality had for me was in the shape of horses and riding. And I liked traveling. Perhaps because of my childhood, staying in one place for very long just seemed to me like a waste of opportunity.

"It’s funny, though, the things life does to you. Inadvertently I discovered myself settling down, looking for excuses not to climb on another airplane. I bought a house because I fell in love with it, and it was somewhere to leave the thousands of books I picked up everywhere I went. Later, I decided that I wanted something around that didn’t necessarily sit politely on a shelf till I took it down, so I bought a dog, a whippet I named Rowan. Insidiously I began liking it that tomorrow was going to be much like yesterday: walking the dog, sitting at the typewriter. I declared myself to have found home in my tiny house in a small village two-thirds of the way up the coast of Maine. I also, a little ruefully, concluded that my individual mix of the writer’s traditional absent-mindedness, a rather uncompromising feminism, and a naturally intransigent personality made marriage or any sort of permanent romantic attachment impractical. I didn’t actually think I was missing much; I liked being single.

"This no doubt explains—somehow—why I am now living in a small village in a very large house in Hampshire, England, with my husband, the English writer Peter Dickinson, three whippets, and a horse, and what seems to me, the only child and ex-solitary adult, about half a million Dickinson grandchildren rioting underfoot, down the corridors, and across the garden. When Peter and I decided to get married, it was obvious to me I was the one who had to emigrate; I was the military brat with lifelong experience of pulling up and moving on. So I dug up my tender new under-standing of "home," packed it very carefully, and brought it over here with me, with the eighty cartons of books and one bewildered whippet. It has taken root vigorously here, but the message to headquarters is very emphatic: "Don’t you ever do this to us again." I’m not likely to: I’ve planted over four hundred rosebushes in what were once Peter’s classic English garden borders—and look after them devotedly. I have the scars to prove it. I think I’ve discovered reality after all. I’m astonished at how interesting it is. It’s giving me more things to write stories about."

--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Product Details

• Reading level: Ages 12 and up
  
• Paperback: 224 pages
• Publisher: Firebird (October 13, 2003)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0698119606
• ISBN-13: 978-0698119604
• Product Dimensions: 7.7 x 5 x 0.6 inches
• Shipping Weight: 3.2 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 3.7 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (31 customer reviews)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #288,492 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
  • #45 in Books > 4-for-3 Books > Children's Books > Literature > Fairy Tales, Folk Tales & Myths > Anthologies

More About the Author

Robin McKinley has won various awards and citations for her writing, including the Newbery Medal for The Hero and the Crown and a Newbery Honor for The Blue Sword. Her other books include Sunshine; the New York Times bestseller Spindle's End; two novel-length retellings of the fairy tale Beauty and the Beast, Beauty and Rose Daughter; and a retelling of the Robin Hood legend, The Outlaws of Sherwood. She lives with her husband, the English writer Peter Dickinson.

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

53 of 57 people found the following review helpful:

3.0 out of 5 stars In ascending order..., January 30, 2001

By 

Erin (Michigan) - See all my reviews
(VINE VOICE)   

This review is from: The Door in the Hedge (Hardcover)

As I started reading this book I was afraid I wouldn't like it at all. Fortunately, the four stories are arranged in ascending order-from worst to best, so by the time I finished I had a rather favorable impression.

The book starts off with an original tale by McKinley. Starting with the preface, this tale was difficult to break into. I was glad when a plot finally appeared, but by the end I was almost heart-broken by McKinley's description of Faerieland. It is interesting as an alternative viewpoint, but I certainly don't want it to be that way!

The other original McKinley tale, "The Hunting of the Hind," I enjoyed much, much more. I could feel sympathetic for the characters and some of the magical elements were particularly lovely.

McKinley also retells "The Princess and the Frog" and "The Twelve Dancing Princesses." She brings out the darker side of each of these tales, which left me shivering at the end, rather than glowing with the usual happy fairy tale feeling. To many (although not to me) this dark side may be preferable, and one certainly can't deny McKinley's talent for creating atmosphere in her writing. Thus, the book earns three stars and my recommendation to those who love the darker side of fantasy.

35 of 40 people found the following review helpful:

1.0 out of 5 stars "We Will Look. No One Has Ever Thought to Look Before", July 28, 2004

By 

R. M. Fisher "Raye" (New Zealand = Middle Earth!) - See all my reviews
(TOP 500 REVIEWER)   

This review is from: The Door in the Hedge (Paperback)

Despite an interesting title and a beguiling title page, I honestly found nothing exceptional about Robin McKinley's collection of four fairytales. Whether her stories are original or retold, they are rather dull, predictable, and written with long-winded language that makes for sluggish reading. All are centred on the interactions between this world and that of Faerieland - or to be more specific, the interactions between young princesses and the inhabitants of Faerieland. None of these girls are individuals, instead they are cast straight from the princess stereotype and all the stories end on a slightly sickly-sweet note with each dilemma that the girls' face wrapped up in a nice little bow. Faerieland is not seen as a wild and elusive place, but as a pretty sparkling land with none of the depth or hidden meaning that fairytales are meant to have. They are sweet, pretty, *pointless* tales have nothing of the ambiguity or beauty that they could.

In "The Stolen Princess", McKinley tells the tale of one of the last kingdoms that border the realm of Faery, and the anxiety that the residents face concerning the possible stealing of their children. This happened to the Queen's twin sister Ellian, and now the same thing has happened to happen to their only child Linadel. The King and Queen take it upon themselves to rescue their daughter, whilst she herself awakens in the Faerie realm to greet its inhabitants. The pacing of the story is extremely slow, the "love-at-first-sight" scenario is entirely unconvincing, and the descriptions of Faerieland are unimaginative and flat - it sounds like quite a dull place actually.

"The Princess and the Frog" is a retelling of the princess who drops her golden ball and has it returned to her by a frog. Here, the Princess Rana is saved from the malevolent power of an unwelcome suitor's necklace by a talking frog. The ending is utterly preposterous: the frog returns to his human form, and challenges the suitor Aliyander - at this stage Rana runs out of the room, down to the pond, fills a flagon with its water and rushes back to dump the whole lot on Aliyander. Presumably, since no other explanation is given, we are meant to suppose that during this lengthy interlude of running and fetching water, the two foes simply stood looking at each other, since when Rana returns neither one of them has moved. Furthermore, how Rana knows that the pond-water will destroy Aliyander is completely unexplained, and therefore comes across as random and bizzare.

"The Hunting of the Hind" is possibly the only worthwhile read, which tells of Princess Korah, whose kingdom is plauged by the beauty of a golden hind, the very sight of which drives men into madness. When this terrible affliction lands upon her beloved brother, Korah herself goes out in search of the hind to learn its secrets. However, this story too comes to an annoying ending: the hind is under a spell, which can only be broken if a person goes to the wizard who placed the curse and asks him to remove it. But to prevent the wizard from using your inner emotions against you, one must enter his presence completely devoid of any feelings. So Korah leaves her inner emotions in the keeping of the transformed hind (err, how exactly?) and asks the wizard for her freedom. That's it. I was expecting some sort of twist, some sort of test or trick that the young girl must go through, but no - that's it. To top it off, McKinley throws in a brother to the golden hind to act as love-interest for Korah - why must every Princess land herself a hubby in the course of her adventures? Can't she just have the adventure for its own sake?

Lastly is the longest story, "The Twelve Dancing Princesses" which is told from the point of view of a middle-aged soldier, and is made all the better for it - by this stage I was thoroughly tired of McKinley's flat princess-heroines. The soldier takes up the challenge of solving the mystery of the twelve princesses, whose shoes appear each morning entirely worn out, as if they have been dancing all the night long. If you have read this old fairytale, then there is nothing here that will surprise you - McKinley tells the exact same story, except she takes twice as long to do it. There is a slight shadow of intrigue with the appearance of an old woman who aids the soldier, but it's not enough to warrant the energy I used in dragging myself through this story.

As you can see, this is a rather harsh review, and if you happen to be Robin McKinley reading this - no offence! McKinley is a gifted author, and I have enjoyed many of her books, but this collection just left me entirely unsatisfied. I've tried to give legitimate reasons as to why this is simply isn't a worthwhile book, without simply ranting at it, and the truth is that it just felt completely devoid of any real magic or passion.

17 of 18 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars Fairy tales that don't insult your intelligence, December 8, 2005

By 

E. A. Lovitt "starmoth" (Gladwin, MI USA) - See all my reviews
(HALL OF FAME REVIEWER)    (TOP 100 REVIEWER)    (REAL NAME)   

This review is from: The Door in the Hedge (Paperback)

This book is a collection of four reworked fairy tales from Northern Europe. The author floats her reader along on dreamy, gossamer-spun tales. The princesses are always kind and beautiful. Their parents are regal, but loving and giving. Even if a prince has been turned into a frog by his evil brother, he is a very brave, manly frog.

This isn't McKinley's best work by any means (I'd award that honor to "The Hero and the Crown"), but it is a pleasure akin to relaxing into a warm bath and letting your mind dissolve into a waking dream.

"The Door in the Hedge"--The country that borders the faerie realm is a wonderful place to live if you overlook the occasional baby boy who disappears from his cradle. Females aren't stolen until they are of marriageable age, and then only one to a family: "If a girl reaches twenty, she may breathe easier and think about marrying." Princess Linadel is beautiful. "Her hair was dark, velvet brown by candlelight and almost chestnut in the sun; and it fell in long, slow curls past her shoulders..." She is an only child so no one really expects her to be stolen by the faeries. However, on the morning of Linadel's 17th birthday, her bed was empty except for a scattering of small blue flowers.

This story suffers from a contrived happy ending. The author takes several stabs at explaining why everything is going to be swell, then gives up and lets it end. Either that, or she is much too subtle for this particular reader.

"The Princess and the Frog"--As I remember the original fairy tale, the princess was spoiled rotten and the frog swaggered about (as much as frogs can swagger) ordering her to do icky things like kiss him. McKinley's version benefits from an evil warlock who turns his brother into a frog. The frog is brave and funny. The princess is beautiful.

"The Hunting of the Hind"--A beautiful woman is turned into a golden hind by a wicked magician. The men who hunt her die or go mad. The local prince decides to have a go at the hind, returns home after a long chase, then begins to pine away. His sister resolves to track down the beautiful creature before her brother dies.

The wicked magician gets a nice build-up in "The Hunting of the Hind" but the confrontation between him and the princess is strangely anticlimactic. I would have expected the bad guy to put up more of a fight.

"The Twelve Dancing Princesses"--This is easily the best story in the book, perhaps because it follows the fairy tale so closely. The characters (except for the princesses, who have very little dialogue) are believable and likeable. The tension really builds as the intrepid soldier follows the princesses down into a demonic underworld where they dance their shoes to pieces for three nights running. I had to read ahead, just to make certain Robin McKinley didn't fiddle with the happy ending!