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Letters from Rapunzel

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This is Sara Lewis Holmes' debut novel, winner of the first annual Ursula Nordstrom Fiction Contest. An epistolary novel (that quickly becomes tantamount to reading a young girl's diary), it centers around twelve-year-old Cadence who calls herself Rapunzel. Cadence is extremely close to her father, a poet, who is suddenly hospital-bound with clinical depression. Soon after his hospitalization, Cadence finds an intimate and cryptic (but incomplete) letter he had written to someone nameless, addressed to a post office box. In the hopes that the recipient of the letters will help her save her father, she composes letters and sends them to this particular post office box, #5667. However, she finds herself writing so much more -- re-writings of fairy tales with her own plucky spin (one of her protagonist princesses decides not to marry the prince after all and not to sleep on any more piles of mattresses: She will no longer "take teeny-tiny steps. Instead, I opened my own detective agency, and lived happily ever after, asking lots and lots of questions. THE END"); creative responses to homework assignments and math problems; and letters to the editor when she hears about the imminent destruction of one of the last authentic swing bridges in her area, a place holding special significance for her father and a place, she learns the hard way, that was the backdrop for a devastating turning point in her father's illness. All the while, no one, including her mother, is talking to her honestly about his depression. She imagines herself a modern fairy tale heroine, mostly "just a victim in a tower," she writes to the nameless letter recipient: Her particular prison tower being the afterschool Homework Club, and the evil spell that has afflicted her father, his depression.

The book has a steady, vigorous pace; Holmes' Cadence is fully-realized (she's entrancing when she really gets going) and will especially draw young pre-teen girls who feel a bit left of center or a bit out of place, especially if its due to their brain power in and out of the classroom ("Everyone thinks that smart people are happy, but it's not true. What's so happy about being able to see what's wrong all the time, and not having the power to fix it? What's so happy about feeling weird and different every day of your life?" she writes in one letter); as The Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books put it well, the novel possesses a "{d}elicately layered grace and springiness"; and there's a lot of poignancy in the novel, yet Holmes knows how to put on the brakes and keep it from getting too schmaltzy or overdone. Her relationship with her father is especially moving; here she is writing to the nameless post office box recipient (though it quickly becomes clear, especially after getting no letters in response, that she's writing for her own self-preservation):

"Did you know he writes me a letter, with a poem in it, every year, for my birthday? Half the time I don't understand the poem - not completely anyway - but it doesn't matter. Understanding isn't the point. It's how those poems make me feel. I read them to myself at night, sitting cross-legged on the bed, catching the words on the paper like they were fantastical beasts in the round, pale moonbeam of his silver flashlight. In the daylight, the words seem to run away when I try to read them, but at night, safely circled by my mighty beam, they slow down and turn toward me, and I whisper them to myself, memorizing their tracks on the page.

That's what I love about my dad - he doesn't give me cute or fancy verses for my birthday. He gives me strange and beautiful and mysterious pools of words, way over my head, but right at eye level with my heart. Those poems make me feel I'm truly growing older, that it isn't just a cake-and-icing-induced hallucination."

And there are also several beautifully-rendered moments as Cadence works through her confusion and her sadness over her father's sudden absence, all through her letter-writing. In thinking about her father's love of poetry ("One time he said poetry happened whenever he felt `the weight of reality's shadow.' I didn't get that exactly, but then he said it was like the world tilted, or shifted a little, so that he could see its hidden side"), she comes to understand her own writing abilities, albeit accidentally: "Then something weird happened. I wrote a poem about it. I didn't mean to, but all of a sudden, it was like there was another SOMETHING in the room, like a ghost. You know how you feel like there's breath on your neck? I didn't know how long it would last, so I grabbed a pen and I wrote down everything I could about that moment. What I wrote didn't make sense at first, but then I remembered what my dad told me once about his work - that he tried to make his poems like spells (good ones, not evil) so that when someone heard one, the listener would be haunted by the spirit of the poem, as he was when he wrote it . . ." Ah, loveliness.

Best of all, though, is Holmes' perceptive commentary on modern education (or, at the very least, the tendency of some teachers to adhere a bit too rigidly to pedagogical orthodoxy). Cadence is brilliant and very determined to avoid trying the new gifted program that her mother and some teachers want her to join. Compounding her dislike for school, a handful of her teachers refuse her rather imaginative ("frivolous" in the eyes of some teachers) efforts at answering homework questions. "Why do teachers encourage you to be creative when they don't mean it?" she writes. Indeed, her letters to the editor about the imminent destruction of the bridge are smart and incisive.

And, in the end, thoughtful readers will appreciate Holmes' further commentary on some readers' insistence for happy endings in stories and Cadence's acceptance that "{y}ou must be willing to have your heart broken in order to live. There's no other choice, scramble as we may to look for it, to find a way out of our dilemma. It is hope, crack your heart open and breathe, or close it up and die." That's not to say that something dreadfully tragic happens either; this is not the case at all. It's simply that Cadence -- and her father, for that matter -- comes to realize that she must make herself vulnerable, despite the pain, that the light can come through, even when things seem topsy-turvy and beyond repair.

In the words of Cadence, "It's very hard, rescuing yourself."

Gail Carson Levine has a lot to answer for.

When Our Lady of Ella Enchanted proved that biggie awards could go to fairy tale-inspired fantasies, this knowledge launched an unprecedented variety of fairy tale freakouts . As we speak we are still in the midst of a kind of folktale maelstrom, so you'll forgive me if my initial sideways glance at "Letters from Rapunzel," appeared to produce just more of the same. The winner of the 2004 Ursula Nordstrom Fiction Contest (run by Harper Collins for those first-time never-before-published types), Ms. Sara Lewis Holmes won it fair and square and this here book is the result. Despite its cover and title, the book is not, in fact, one of the fairytale ilk. Using the Rapunzel motif, Holmes paints a picture of a family whose patriarch is suffering from chronic depression. Balancing out its painful subject matter with its heroine's wit, whimsy, and disconnect from reality, "Letters from Rapunzel" manages a delicate balancing act that comes to a happy end for both character and reader.

She's been sending letters to an unknown post office box ever since her father disappeared from her life. For Rapunzel (the name she chooses to give herself) life was fine until her dad went through a new bout of crippling depression and had to be taken away to recover. What does that mean for our heroine? It means trying to put up with teachers and principals who think that just because you aced some test they gave out, you're a genius. A genius, mind you, who'd rather write letters to a stranger than end up in some lousy class for smart kids where Andrew, the boy she hates, is waiting to torment her. As for the letters, Rapunzel started writing them when she found a letter from her father written to an unknown address. Hoping against hope that maybe she'll be able to contact someone who can help her dad shrug off his "evil spell", Rapunzel does everything she can to contact her mysterious someone. Yet when she meets only silence and an increase in her own problems, it takes some detective work and self-possession to get to the bottom of what exactly happened to Rapunzel's father.

To whip together both fairytale and realistic elements like this is a risk. It would be all too easy for the book of this sort to make a sideways stumble towards the land of twee. Cute references to the story of Rapunzel in the midst of a family drama? The danger that it could become too sweet is immense. I'm still not entirely certain that it was wise to equate Rapunzel's father's depression with the moniker "an evil spell", but at least the author makes it clear that when it comes to equating reality with fantasy, our heroine isn't the most reliable of narrators. The story is also an interesting take on the usually staid and solid "problem books".

A librarian making a list of books dealing with mental illnesses might just slip this title under the "Depression" category without a second thought. I do think that it's lighter and, I dare say, more interesting than a lot of books on this topic for kids out there. That is not a criticism. If every book written on depression rendered the reader (forgive me) depressed, a fair share of kids would be disinclined to delve in that area. Holmes has had the sense then to imbue her book with some fun. I initially resisted it, but I ended up liking the heroine. When handed a charming science assignment that requires her to find ten different ways to rescue the character of Rapunzel from her tower using simple machines, our heroine is inventive enough to say, "but hey, the assignment didn't say we had to keep her alive, did it?" Hence method number one, "Use a giant lever to pry her out. Be prepared for the funeral." Holmes doesn't overdo the humor, letting it float the top of a page here and there without breaking up the action or appearing where it might be inappropriate. For example, the ritual that comes with birthdays, wherein the birthdayee feels older, is described as, "just a cake-and-icing-induced hallucination."

The letter element is, of course, the hook. It's a booktalking point. The idea of mysterious letters sent into the vast unknown is a bit old-fashioned in this high tech day and age. That might account for books like this and The Mailbox by Audrey Shafer that play on the mystery and allure of sending mail to unknown personages. The book also splits apart continually into little asides that serve to break up the text. I'm beginning to suspect that this is some kind of new trend in children's book publishing since I'm seeing it in a lot of other books as well. Kirsten's Miller's Kiki Strike did it. The Thing About Georgie by Lisa Graff has lots of them. And in this particular book you're likely to trip over one of Rapunzel's "Fairy-Tale Fortunes" or school assignment every three pages or so. Does it hurt the book in the end? Not necessarily. It's just hard to get into a story or take it seriously when you're constantly being jerked out of the central tale as frequently as is found here. It makes for more enjoyable reading, perhaps, but does it make for a worthwhile read?

You will be happy to hear that "Letters from Rapunzel", doesn't have any easy answers. No miracles or unlikely coincidences spring up. It is not, I should add, a book that Holmes should stop with. While well told, the book feels like a novel found in an author's early career. And as it's not the only Rapunzel-like story out this year, feel free to also check out Into the Wild by Sarah Beth Durst and Into the Woods by Lyn Gardner for your standard retellings of classic folktales (and their skewed results). This may even make a good crossover title for those kids who only like fantasy and need some kind of fantastical hook to lure them into the scary realm of realistic fiction. Fun and smart enough for your consideration.

Cadence Brogan aka Rapunzel may have found someone to help her with her problems. That someone is P.O. Box # 5667.

Cadence's father has battled clinical depression most of his life. His recent bout has required treatment in the hospital to regulate his medication. Shortly after her father's hospitalization, Cadence discovers a torn piece from a letter her father had written to someone with the address P.O. Box #5667. Not knowing this person, but hoping whoever it is can help shed more light on her father's condition; Cadence begins writing her own letters.

The problems Cadence hopes to get help with include her father's rapid recovery and return home, a busy, hard-working mother, an annoying classmate named Andrew, and mandatory attendance in the GT (Gifted and Talented) program.

A great lover of fairy tales, Cadence focuses on the similarities between herself and the imprisoned Rapunzel. Many of her letters describe her hope to escape and her search to find a cure for the Evil Spell holding her father "prisoner." As she searches for answers, some of what she discovers is not pleasant. In an effort to protect her, Cadence learns that her mother, who refers to her husband's condition as C.D., has not been completely honest about the extent of the depression. Not being able to share her thoughts with her father, more and more of Cadence's feelings pour out in her letters to #5667.

Sara Lewis Holmes cleverly creates Cadence's story through these letters. She has Cadence holding out hope that her letters will be answered, but even as that hope fades, Holmes portrays a positive, up-beat Cadence. Any reader will identify with the struggle to overcome adversity, but this book is sure to hit home with readers who have experience with friends or family members suffering from clinical depression.

Reviewed by: Sally Kruger, aka "Readingjunky"

A girl calling herself "Rapunzel" writes letters to a post office box after she finds a scrap of a letter written from her father to the box number. It says that the unknown recipient is the key to his succeeding as a poet and as a human. Now Rapunzel's dad has been hospitalized for severe depression, and Rapunzel begins pouring her heart out in the letters, although she never receives a reply.

Rapunzel feels as trapped as her namesake --- only instead of being in a castle she is stuck in the dreary Homework Club in her school cafeteria. Her busy mother insists that Rapunzel attend this after-school program.

Rapunzel is new at her school and doesn't have friends her age. According to her IQ test results (which she hides from her mother), she's a genius. But she doesn't care enough about school to actually study and has no desire to enter the gifted and talented program her teachers believe is right for her. Meanwhile, she pleads for help from P.O. Box #5667.

A curious Rapunzel goes to the post office to check out the box and finds it crammed full of mail. No wonder she's not getting any responses! She questions the clerk, who refuses to tell her who rents it.

Rapunzel comes up with her own plan to break her father's Evil Spell. She will buy the bridge that is the subject of his book of poetry, since the bridge is for sale. Owning it surely would snap her dad out of his depression. If only she had, uh, three-quarters of a million dollars.

Rapunzel's maneuverings fall through, and she is forced to attend the gifted program. The first day does not go well, to say the least. When a boy finds a poem she wrote about her father and mocks it, she decks him with an English textbook and finds herself in an all-day detention. But things go way downhill from there when poor Rapunzel learns something shocking about the bridge for sale.

LETTERS FROM RAPUNZEL won the Ursula Nordstrom First Fiction Contest, and it's easy to see why. Gutsy Rapunzel has a delightfully forthright voice. Several mysteries thread through the plot, which eventually are solved in a satisfying manner. The book is humorous but also heartbreaking, filled with yearning and poignancy. Rapunzel's fresh story is one that will linger in the minds of readers for a very long time.

--- Reviewed by Terry Miller Shannon

Letters from Rapunzel is FRESH and far from a fairytale. THIS Rapunzel is smart, witty, creative and struggling to come to terms with her father's illness - Clinical Depression (a.k.a. - the Evil Spell.) THIS Rapunzel is suffering teen angst and looking for answers. She begins writing to P.O. Box #5667 after she discovers the ripped up remains of a letter her father has addressed to this mysterious pen pal. In her quest for answers and a "happy ending" she discovers so much more - the heroine of her life - herself.

Letters From Rapunzel is definitely my favorite book. I love how there's so much imagination in the book. I still wonder how the author thought of this. It is really touching too. I laughed and I cried a lot. I really felt that a preteen wrote this since "Rapunzel" seems to think just like my friends and me. It was really funny how Rapunzel compared reality to fairy tales.

"It's very hard, rescuing yourself."

Life is not a fairy tale, but it can be an amazing journey. Letters from Rapunzel by Sara Lewis Holmes confirms this.

In this extraordinary epistolary juvenile novel, a young girl drafts letter after letter to P.O. Box #5667. She addresses her concerns there after seeing the post office box on an unfinished letter from her father. Now that he has been hospitalized for clinical depression (or, as she calls it, the "Evil Spell"), she feels as if this unknown recipient is her only touchstone to her displaced parent. Feeling as though she's trapped in a tower, she signs the letters "Rapunzel" and sends them out as signs of life, slivers of hope, perhaps even small calls for help.

Though the letters seem to be one-sided, the story is full and its protagonist three-dimensional. She acts her age and responds to her situation with equal parts optimism, realism, and cynicism. While waiting for her hardworking mother to pick her up from the dreaded afterschool Homework Club and waiting for her father to come home from the hospital, she channels her anxiety and emotions into her writing. Her short stories and letters reveal more about her own identity, even as she yearns to learn that of her would-be pen pal. Just as the heroine feels compelled to keep writing to the mysterious #5667, kids will feel compelled to keep reading her letters to the very end.

This book sounds like a fantasy title, and shows a picture of a girl with long blond hair dropping letters from a tower. However, it is actually about a very real girl who calls herself Rapunzel because she feels trapped in after-school Homework Club (because she's not quite old enough to stay home alone). Rapunzel's beloved father is in the hospital for depression, which she likens to an Evil Spell. Finding a scrap of a letter that her father has written to someone at a post office box, Rapunzel starts writing to this apparent friend of her father's, hoping that the person can help. The entire story is told in the form of Rapunzel's letters and stories.

Rapunzel is a complex and engaging character. She struggles with a nemesis named Andrew, resists pressure to join the Gifted and Talented program, and fights to save a historic bridge that's important to her father. Her intelligence and creativity shine through her letters, stories, and poems, as do her insecurities, need for stimulation, and sense of humor. Here is an example that shows Rapunzel's voice:

"My Mom's very concerned that I don't have any friends my age. I admit that I usually hang out with my dad or our neighbor, Mrs. Booth, who's sixty-seven. But can I help it if we haven't lived here that long -- and that everybody at my new school thinks I'm a geek because I can use the word "fortuitous" in a sentence?" (Page 15)

And here's one that shows her fears:

"The scariest thing I found out is that the Evil Spell runs in families. Like if somebody close to you has it, then your chances of being zapped by it are more than the average Joe-on-the-Street. That means me.

And it turns out that being smart doesn't help you either. Everyone thinks that smart people are happy, but it's not true. What's so happy about being able to see what's wrong all the time, and not having the power to fix it? What's so happy about feeling weird and different every day of your life? What's so happy about having gorgeous, superlative, wonderful hair (or a BRAIN) when you're kept in a tower?" (Page 61)

And her boredom with study hall (Homework Club):

"Okay. I'm so bored that I spent ten minutes watching the clock and saying "One Mississippi" each time the second hand clicked a space to see if time was mysteriously warped in this room like it is in Rapunzel's tower. But it's not. My hair and I are getting older at the exact same sluglike pace." (Page 104)

All in all, Rapunzel is a delight. I think that kids who are different in any way, especially kids who are different because they are easily distracted or bored in school, will relate to her. She feels real.

Letters from Rapunzel also tackles, in a highly accessible manner, the subject of clinical depression. Rapunzel's father is unable to be there to support his wife and child, leaving Rapunzel alone, worrying about her father as well as her own future. When he's under the Evil Spell, he can't function at all. Sara Lewis Holmes clearly has a real-world understanding of depression and it's impact on others (read more on her blog). For kids who have relatives struggling with the Evil Spell of depression, this book could be invaluable.

All in all, Letters from Rapunzel is a wonderful read for fourth through eighth graders, with an unusual storytelling method, and a unique and engaging voice. Although difficult subjects are covered, Rapunzel's breezy tone keeps the book feeling safe for the reader. Recommended for upper elementary and middle school kids, girls and boys. (Though I think that the title and cover might make it a stretch to get boys to read it). Letters from Rapunzel won the Ursula Nordstrom Fiction Contest.

This book review was originally published on my blog, Jen Robinson's Book Page, on November 1, 2007.

This book is wonderful! My daughter and I both read the book and we can't say enough good things about it. We enjoyed that the story was told from "Rapunzel's" point of view through her diaries. The book is hilarious at times, and sad at others. It deals with a very sensitive, yet current issue, that many families are struggling with....mental illness and depression. When seen through a young adults eyes and with the added touch of humor, it helps the reader to better understand an often difficult to understand problem. I hightly recommend this book.