"A tale of sweets and love . . . And each improbable episode more wonderful, and more romantic."--The New York Times Book Review. Black-and-white illustrations.
Russell Conwell Hoban was an American expatriate writer. His works span many genres, including fantasy, science fiction, mainstream fiction, magical realism, poetry, and children's books. He lived in London, England, from 1969 until his death. (Wikipedia)
Sentient flowers, a singing bee, and a lovelorn owl are just a few of the peculiar creatures found in Hoban's unconventional tribute to the beauty of life and inevitability of death, from which life springs anew.
Lovely illustrations accompany a tale that I found to be a headscratcher. One constant running through the story seemed to be that each character wanted to be loved.
I am six. This is what I think of The Marzipan Pig.
It starts with a marzipan pig who falls behind a couch. He has been sitting there for days, and weeks, and months when he hears a nibbling sound. He thinks, "Yay, rescue! Help is coming!" He imagines there will be a party after he's found, and he begins making up a speech. But then a mouse comes out and just gobbles him up on page two. That's the end of the marzipan pig.
I was excited and happy when I started this book. I thought it would be lovely, but everything is about dying and it made me cry.
Fans of Russell Hoban's work will be prepared for the masterful language and the beauty and sweetness and sadness. Love, and longing. The occasional unexpected strange violence. And the humor, too--don't forget that. So, it's about all the true things in life. In 48 pages. And appropriate for kids. I worried that it was too strange and complex to be accessible to kids, but my eight year old said he loved it, and that it was sad and funny and beautiful. So, no.
This book wasn't published until long after I was reading children's books on a regular basis; if I'd read it as a child, it would have been a favorite.
A marzipan pig falls beneath a couch, and is never found. Sniff. Well, not until he's eaten by a mouse. A mouse who falls in love with a grandfather clock and chews a hole in it so that she can spend quiet time every night with the clock...who can only ever tell her the time. The story also involves an owl in love with a taxi meter, a bee who dances in moonlight, and a mouse who makes a dress from a hibiscus flower. It is lovely in every way, and Quentin Blake's illustrations are dear. The book made me smile and mist, and was a wonderful way to spend a few minutes.
Technically, I didn't read this book. It was read to me. By Tim Curry. Courtesy of a 1990 minimally animated TV short I watched.
After flipping through the book though, I highly recommend getting your hands on the TV version instead. I'm a big fan of audiobooks, especially for children, and Curry is a master reader, articulate and emotional. The TV special is a complete, unabridged reading of the book and the illustrations match the style of those in the original work.
The story is odd and the themes of loneliness, love and love sickness, and time may fly over younger children's heads, but the interconnected stories of a couple of mice, a grandfather clock, an owl, a taxi meter, and, of course, a marzipan pig have the touch of magical realism and whimsy that make them irresistible to children and adults.
I really shouldn't read any more Russell Hoban books; they're too weird (The Sea-Thing Child?). I thought this would be a nice, sweet (haha) story about a marzipan pig, but he gets eaten on the second page. It then becomes a waffling weird ramble involving a mouse who wants a clock to love her, an owl in love with a taxi meter, a bee who dances for a hibiscus flower and another mouse. What was Hoban smoking/drinking/injecting when he wrote this?!
Huh? What is going on here? This book made no sense to me whatsoever. It was beautifully written, yes, but the depressing, rather disjointed episodes left me with a sad taste in my mouth. I can't think of any children who would be interested in this book.
This one's an oddity: a nearly stream-of-consciousness tale about how the sweet essence of a marzipan pig misplaced behind a sofa manages to suffuse a variety of creatures, including an owl, two mice and a hibiscus plant. While utterly unsentimental - the title character is eaten on the second page, and others don't fare much better - it's also fragile and lovely, much like the pig itself. Quentin Blake's illustrations are minimal in nature, but add much - I'll never forget his drawing of a love-crazed owl dancing to a taxi driver's trumpet practice.
The only reason I gave this 2 stars instead of 1 is because I like Quentin Blake's illustrations. I don't think Russell Hoban's books are for me. The first page caught my attention and I thought it might make a fun, cozy read-aloud, but the story quickly devolved into a random, weird storyline. I thought maybe it would all come full circle at the end but it didn't.
Perhaps one of the three greatest children's books ever. I just found it in a stack of old things in my parents house...then I check online and find that the cheapest one goes for $48 on Amazon...stupid out of print books that are a lifeline to my childhood.
A beautiful leap-frog-story about love and it's power to inspire and how it can be unrequited and lead to loneliness, but is ultimately better than a life without it. Everyone deserves something sweet in their life.
It’s a small book full of wonder. The adventure starts with a marzipan pig, moves on to a mouse, an owl, a taxi driver, a hibiscus, and ends with another mouse in a hibiscus dress. Sound intriguing? It is.
This begins and somewhat ends with a marzipan pig... getting eaten by a mouse. This was deep but I don't know exactly what the "deepness" was about, to be quite honest. It just went over my head for the most part.
The chain of events started by the marzipan pig getting eaten by a mouse is supposed to symbolize something, I think. Waiting for something that never came, regrets over a missed opportunity, longing for love, emptiness over the lost of what one once had, obsessing over love (that owl is definitely love-obsessed). working on a dream are some that I could think of. Death is also a common theme here and I especially liked the last wish before dying of the hibiscus flower.
When reading The Marzipan Pig, very quickly understand that the book's themes are far darker than one would think. Just as I began to read it, thinking of another Roald Dahl-esque story, quickly transformed into one of love and sacrifices. And though there are various other themes, I would argue they all are sub-themes supporting the broader. Discussing it with my boyfriend, I realized how Russell Hoban in a wonderfully childish way talks about adult interactions. Each character represents a person in the relationship; whether you work for the relationship such as the owl, grieve the relationship like the mouse, or are completely consumed by it as the marzipan pig.