The Wolf and the Girl
Jan. 14th, 2020 06:14 pmThe Wolf and the Girl
Aster Glenn Gray

A wonderful thing that Aster Glen Gray does in The Wolf and the Girl—which she also did in Briarley—is transpose a fairy tale to a very particular time and place and make you really feel that time and place. For Briarley it was World War II England; for The Wolf and the Girl it’s pre-Revolutionary Russia—and then early-twentieth-century France.
The first part is like a Russian lacquer box—dark, jewel-like, beautiful. As a small child, Masha would be with her Babushka when older village girls came to hear Babushka’s stories and fairy tales. The older girls all went on to better things, and none more so than Raisa, who got a scholarship to university in St. Petersburg. But then Raisa fell in with anarchists and was exiled to Siberia, “which gave the good people of Kostin no end of satisfaction.”
--Just the sort of insight into human nature that I’ve come to expect from this author, and the sort of thing that makes The Wolf and the Girl more than just a fairy tale wearing new clothes.
Not only has Raisa been exiled to Siberia, she’s fallen afoul of an anarchist enchantress. Wounded and bespelled, she finds her way to Masha and Babushka, and the elements of Little Red Riding Hood—transmuted to fit pre-Revolutionary Russian times—play out.
But the story doesn’t end there! There’s a whole next part—for all of us who’ve ever said, “But what comes after the ‘happily ever after’?” (Only in this case, it’s not quite a happily-ever-after—there are situations and exigencies.) And *this* part involves fleeing to France, encountering a friendly theater group, and eventually getting involved in film. There’s still an angry enchantress on the loose, too, so . . . well, it’s an exciting and satisfying ride. I recommend it highly!
It's available both as an ebook and a paperback.
Aster Glenn Gray

A wonderful thing that Aster Glen Gray does in The Wolf and the Girl—which she also did in Briarley—is transpose a fairy tale to a very particular time and place and make you really feel that time and place. For Briarley it was World War II England; for The Wolf and the Girl it’s pre-Revolutionary Russia—and then early-twentieth-century France.
The first part is like a Russian lacquer box—dark, jewel-like, beautiful. As a small child, Masha would be with her Babushka when older village girls came to hear Babushka’s stories and fairy tales. The older girls all went on to better things, and none more so than Raisa, who got a scholarship to university in St. Petersburg. But then Raisa fell in with anarchists and was exiled to Siberia, “which gave the good people of Kostin no end of satisfaction.”
“But they were all so proud when she went to study in St. Petersburg,” Masha protested to Babushka. “Why are they happy it ended like this?”
“Pride and jealousy are two sides of the same coin,” Babushka told her. “If you toss it up in the air, you never know which way it will come down.”
--Just the sort of insight into human nature that I’ve come to expect from this author, and the sort of thing that makes The Wolf and the Girl more than just a fairy tale wearing new clothes.
Not only has Raisa been exiled to Siberia, she’s fallen afoul of an anarchist enchantress. Wounded and bespelled, she finds her way to Masha and Babushka, and the elements of Little Red Riding Hood—transmuted to fit pre-Revolutionary Russian times—play out.
But the story doesn’t end there! There’s a whole next part—for all of us who’ve ever said, “But what comes after the ‘happily ever after’?” (Only in this case, it’s not quite a happily-ever-after—there are situations and exigencies.) And *this* part involves fleeing to France, encountering a friendly theater group, and eventually getting involved in film. There’s still an angry enchantress on the loose, too, so . . . well, it’s an exciting and satisfying ride. I recommend it highly!
It's available both as an ebook and a paperback.