The Princess and Curdie (Puffin Classics) [Illustrated] [Paperback]

In the time since the defeat of the goblins, Curdie has gone back to his life as a miner. Unfortunately he also begins to stray from the pure actions he showed in the first book, pushing aside thoughts of Princess Irene's grandmother and trying to convince himself that the more supernatural events of "Goblin" were just imagination. Until he needlessly wounds a pigeon with his bow and arrow, and takes it to the stately, mysterious Grandmother.

As Curdie regains his innocence and his faith, the Lady sends him on a quest, with a weird doglike creature called Lina who was once a human. She also (by having him stick his hands into burning roses) makes his hands able to feel a person's soul when he touches them, if a person is "growing into a beast" on the inside. Now Curdie and Lina set off for the capital, where Irene's father is physically ill, and falling prey to the scheming of his sinister officials.

If the first book was Irene's, then this book is undeniably Curdie's. The focus is on him almost constantly through the book, and it's his internal struggles that we are fascinated by. Every person (well, most of them, anyway) eventually loses their childlike faith and innocence, as Curdie has begun to do at the beginning. He's naturally a more skeptical person than Irene, and so time begins to fade whatever he thought he saw; also, being "one of the guys" in the mine requires a seemingly more mature attitude. But with the loss of innocence also goes some of the faith and internal beauty, and so MacDonald brings Curdie back to the gentle, trusting kid he was in the first book.

The Lady (also known as Irene's great-great-great-grandmother, Lady of the Silver Moon, and Mother Wotherwop -- don't ask about the last one) is also a more prominent figure. She's still both maternal and supernaturally distant, very warm while also seeming to know everything. Precisely who and what she is remains a mystery, but we see more of her subtle, awe-inspiring powers here.

The writing is, as the first book was, immensely dreamy and haunting. MacDonald let rip with the surreally beautiful descriptions of the Lady's room and appearances, and of scenes like Curdie sticking his hands into the rose petals. Like in "Princess and the Goblin," the plot takes awhile to get moving, but it's so well-written that you probably won't notice.

"The Princess and Curdie" is currently harder to find than the first book, which strikes me as a little odd. (Especially since this duology is just screaming to be compiled in one book) But anyone who enjoyed the first book, or even just enjoys a gorgeously-written fantasy, will definitely want to get this sequel.

In the first book, Curdie is an almost perfect young boy, fearless and valiant, and though only twelve he is instrumental in saving the kingdom from a goblin plot. In The Princess and Curdie, though, he sets out becoming more and more ordinary, until by good fortune he comes face to face with the mysterious old woman rumored to live in the nearby tower (the Princess already knows her quite well!). The old woman prepares Curdie for a quest she is sending him on. How? By having him plunge his hands into a pile of rose petals that burns like a fire.

Though Curdie thinks his hands have burned off, he finds them unscathed. But they have a new sensitivity: by shaking a person's hand, he can tell what kind of an animal they are turning into, at heart. The old woman also gives him a companion--a hideous dog-like beast, but whose great ugly paw feels to Curdie like the hand of a little girl.

Curdie travels to the capitol city, where he finds the kingdom in a sorry state, his friend the Princess near despair, and her King-Papa ensnared and enfeebled by the devious plots of the all-too-real and believable officials of the court. The threat posed to the kingdom by those who serve in the castle is far greater than the earlier threat posed by the goblins.

This wonderful story shows good and evil fighting, and shows that the two go by very different sets of rules! And help comes from strange quarters. I never grow tired of this book's insights or of the great plot and storyline. I've re-read both books every couple years since my first time as a child, more than 30 years ago. MacDonald and Lewis Carroll were friends, but to my tastes MacDonald is the greater storyteller. And the ending of this story is unlike any I've read elsewhere, serving as the source of many discussions on why MacDonald ended it that way!