I have previously spoken here of how delightful I find the fantasy tales of T. Kingfisher. While she does write completely original stories (as well as some that are more horror than fantasy), many of her books are retellings of traditional fairy tales. The thing that sets her apart is the whimsy and originality with which she manages this. I have read many fairy tale retellings, mostly because that became an exceedingly popular format in young adult fiction while I was still the purchasing librarian for the YA book collection at the library where I worked. I was often disappointed at the lack of innovation and also the tendency towards “romantasy” that many of their authors chose, so when I discovered T. Kingfisher, I was taken with her unorthodox approaches, some of which make the generative fairy tale all but unrecognizable but always give good value to the story.

The most recent one I read was Thornhedge, which is based on the stories of Rapunzel, sequestered in a tower, and of Sleeping Beauty, whose slumbering kingdom is surrounded by a well-nigh impassable hedge of thorns and brambles.

In the legend of Rapunzel, a pregnant woman craves a rare salad green (rapunzel, or rampion), and her husband steals some from the garden of a powerful witch. As revenge, the witch takes the baby (or in some versions the father sells the baby to the witch), and locks her in a doorless tower hidden deep in the forest. We all know the story of how Rapunzel’s hair grows long enough that the witch can climb up her braid to visit her. One day a wandering prince hears her singing and pretends to be the witch to get her to let down her braid. He ascends, the two fall in love and that’s where the Disney version stops; the Grimm’s fairy tale has a much darker ending, with banishment, blindness, and eventual reconciliation of the lovers.

Charles Perrault was responsible for promoting the basic Sleeping Beauty tale of a wicked fairy’s curse that ultimately sends a princess and her kingdom to sleep for 100 years. The castle is surrounded by a protective hedge, and a prince breaks through the hedge to awaken the beautiful princess with a kiss.

Kingfisher had just completed a Sleeping Beauty-related book for children (featuring hamsters instead of people), and her mind continued to toy with themes after she was done. What she thought about was, What if the princess was locked in a doorless tower inside a daunting hedge not to protect her but to protect everyone else from her? and Thornhedge started writing itself. To continue that line of thought, what if the fairy sent to bless the child was inept or distracted and didn’t deliver the correct wording, so that in defense of humanity she had then to remain close at hand to make sure that no well-meaning romantic king’s son hacked through the hedge and broke down the wall of the tower to get to the princess, who, once awakened, would eat him for lunch and then go on a rampage from which no one could defend themselves?

In Kingfisher’s version, the guardian is Toadling, a homely woman who can transform into a handsome toad. She has her own complicated back story that I won’t go into here, because it is hard to explain but also because it’s best read for itself; and that story connects her with her charge, the sleeping princess, and makes her responsible for preserving the spells, wards, and physical deterrents that keep the princess quiescent. But many years after she’s thinking that it’s finally safe to let down her guard, since everyone who would have the slightest memory of the tower or its inhabitant is long dead to the third generation or beyond, a wandering knight happens upon Toadling and her charge and Toadling must decide what it is incumbent upon her to do to fulfill her charge.

This is a novella, being only 116 pages—but the story, the characterizations, and the world-building are worthy of a book five times the size. Kingfisher really knows how to create a mood, a personality, an atmosphere, and if you enjoy a twisted fairy tale, do seek this one out.