The Mouse and His Child

by Russell Hoban, Lillian Hoban (Illustrator)

"What are we, Papa?" the toy mouse child asked his father.
"I don't know," the father answered. "We must wait and see."
So begins the story of a tin father and son who dance under a Christmas tree until they break the ancient clock-work rules and are themselves broken. Thrown away, then rescued from a trash can and repaired by a tramp, they set out on a perilous odyssey to follow the child's dream of a family and a place of their own. What happens to the mouse and his child in their search for the magnificent doll house, the plush elephant, and the tin seal they had known in the toyshop is a tale to remember and return to.

Genres: Fantasy, Fiction, Childrens, Animals, Middle Grade, Classics, Adventure

182 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1967

About the author

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)

Reviews

[Alexis Hall]

Another of my comfort reads.

I don’t know how to say this without sounding melodramatic but this book may—figuratively at least—have saved my life?

Childhood was not altogether one of my favourite experiences. But this book, via clockwork toys, talking rodents, and can of dogfood, taught me everything I have ever needed to know. About freedom. About selfhood. That the truest family, ultimately, is the family you find.

It’s a beautiful book, weird and abstract, and full of compassion.

It’s also dark as fuck. The world the characters inhabit is unbelievably brutal, full of violence, filth, and despair. Whenever I come back to the book, I’m faintly shocked by just how grim it all is. How vulnerable the two central characters—the mouse and his child—feel.

But I guess it all made a strange sort of sense to me at the time I first read it. Not, I hasten to add, that I’ve ever been enslaved by rats. I think the book felt very true to me. Both about how shitty things can be. But also about how much hope there is in the world.

That happy endings are possible, no matter how hard won.

[Abby · Rating 5 out of 5]

Simply stunning -- the story of a wind-up mouse & his son and their adventures in the cold mean world beyond the nursery. This is no Velveteen Rabbit, however. After being thrown out in the trash and fixed by a transient, the clockwork toys find themselves enslaved to a greedy rat who rules the dump on the edge of town. Although they eventually manage to escape his clutches, the rat doggedly follows them as they bumble from crisis to crisis, dependent on the mercies of the strangers they meet to wind up their clockwork and keep them moving.

I loved this book because of the humanity of these characters -- their emotions run the gamut: tired, scared, exasperated, hopeful, despondent, sentimental, joyous, and so on. The relationship between the father mouse and his son is realistic and touching. Beyond the adventures and narrow escapes from the evil rat, there is profound philosophy to be found in these pages. The big questions are here -- what is the purpose of life? what is beyond the great beyond? how do we continue to soldier on in the face of constant defeat and despair? But there are no pat and simple answers here. And the writing is simply beautiful. I found myself needing to slow down and drink in Hoban's imagery, as much as I wanted to skip ahead and find out what happened next.

I never read this book as a child, and I am envious of those who grew up with it because it seems to me to be the sort of book that takes on different meaning and gains resonance for the reader as she grows up. I'm looking forward to reading it again in a few years.

[Deb (Readerbuzz) Nance · Rating 5 out of 5]

Don't be misled by this book's cover, with its gentle picture of a windup toy mouse
hand in hand with his small son. The Mouse and His Child is and isn't a children's book but it is not recommended for the
soft hearted of any age.

The title characters, a mouse and his child, are toys who seem quite astonished to find themselves in the world,
moving from a toyshop to display items under a Christmas tree to, quite suddenly, the dump. Despite his father's doubts,
despite the adversity of the world including the wicked Manny Rat, the child holds onto and attempts to realize his dream of
finding and making his toyshop companions, a windup elephant and a windup seal, his mother and sister, and finding
and making the toyshop's dolls' house his family home.

I'm making it sound much more treacly than it is, however. There is hope and redemption in this story, but there is
also cruelty and death. Like most good children's stories, it can be read simply as a wonderful adventure if you are ten or
as a sophisticated fantasy with clever dialogue and deep meaning if you are twenty.

I liked it so much that I went right back and read it again when I finished. I would caution against reading by or
with the most sensitive of readers.

[Diane Barnes · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm hard pressed to know how to categorize this book. I don't think it would be appreciated by most children, who I think are it's target audience. It's dark and unpleasant in parts, and while it does have a happy ending, it takes maturity to understand. Building a family, persistence, forgiveness, acceptance, staying true to who you are and following a dream even when it seems impossible are worthy traits and goals. My copy had illustrations by David Small, one of my favorite children's books artists. The pictures are true to the text, so are not cute and cuddly, but rather show some unsavory characters in a representative light.

I read this book solely on the recommendation of Jim Puskas, who I thank whole-heartedly for believing that I would "get" this. His review is a better one than mine, so read his for more insight.

[Robert · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is another book in my desultory campaign to re-read books that I liked in childhood and see if they stand up to adult scrutiny.

THIS REVIEW HAS BEEN CURTAILED IN PROTEST AT GOODREADS' CENSORSHIP POLICY

See the complete review here:

http://arbieroo.booklikes.com/post/33...

[Jim Puskas · Rating 5 out of 5]

I consider myself most fortunate to have obtained a lovingly used copy of this wonderful book. I suppose it was intended as a book for children, but they would need to be quite sophisticated, even serious-minded children. The themes are anything but childish and the characters extremely well developed. The nearest book I might consider comparable would be Watership Down—here featuring windup toys instead of rabbits. While the mice and their other clockwork friends, an elephant and a seal, embark on a series of perilous adventures, encountering many animal and bird friends and one implacable ratty foe, they face and attempt to answer the “big questions” in life. Russell Hoban’s use of language is exceptional, his vocabulary stunning, his imagery and narrative skill truly remarkable. Lillian Hoban’s line drawings add another whole dimension of substance to the story. Hoban’s use of mysterious iconic recurrent themes—such as “Beyond the Last Invisible Dog”—woven into the narrative raises this to a literary level far beyond the expectations one might have on first viewing the book.
Hoban does not appear to have been a playwright, but he certainly has the dramatist’s skill of making each character reveal a great deal about their personality by means of very brief bits of dialogue. Each of these players—and especially the windups—are made real, living beings with hopes, fears, aspirations. They display courage, suffer loss, endure hardship, overcome adversity; even struggle with forgiveness.
All in all, it’s an entirely engrossing and satisfying tale. I can state emphatically that this is the best thing I’ve read so far this year. Highly recommended.

[Ramsey Hootman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Existential nihilism for kids! Sounds like I'm joking, and I'm totally not. I first read this book when I was maybe 8 or 10, and it's the first time I remember realizing that literature could be SO much more than just a fun story. On the surface, it's a story about a windup mouse and his son attempting to find their place in a world after being broken and thrown away. They have adventures with various animals in a variety of environments - town dump, bottom of a pond, etc. - all while being pursued by an evil rat bent on destroying them.

Under the surface, it's sooo very much more. It's got subtle puns, like Harold and the Purple Crayon on psychedelics. It's got nihilistic philosophy summed up in the form of a dog food can. It's got an experimental theatrical group composed of crows. It's got a running gag that contrasts pure thought with practical application. It's got a theistic allegory with the father and son. What is light, without darkness? What hope can we have to control our own destiny, when our place in the grand scheme of things is infinitesimal? What does it truly mean to be self-winding? And it's all wrapped up in some of the most gorgeous prose you can imagine.

Reading this to my seven year old was an absolute delight, and I hope to revisit it again a few years from now. At this point it was mostly just a grand story to him, but there were a few truly deep moments he grasped, such as the brutally humorous "cycle of life" depicted when the dramatic war between the shrews ends abruptly with all of them being eaten by a pair of weasels out for a light dinner-- who are then in turn picked up by an owl for his supper. He could FEEL that there was more lurking beneath the surface; he understood that the Bonzo dog food can MEANT something, and we had a really good discussion about what it represented.

This was, is, and will continue to be one of my absolute, all-time favorite reads.

[Lyn Elliott · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ive just re-read this wonderful book and this time it resonates even more than it did when I read it to my 9 year old son. He doesn't remember it, and I think now that he was too young for it and another few years would have made tremendous difference to his understanding of the themes, but might also have made him wary of reading a story about talking clockwork toys.
Now he's in his thirties, I think I'll give him a copy of his own.
Everyone should read the story of the clockwork mouse and his child, the child who never gives up hope of a family and house of their own. Despite terrible mishaps, being caught in the middle of others' battles for territory (there's a lot about territory), and pursued by the ruthless Manny Rat, the two find friends as they journey, and all ends well, even for Manny Rat.
It's a story of quiet heroism, lively adventure, brilliantly plotted and very funny.
thank you Stephen for putting me in mind of it again.

[Leonie · Rating 5 out of 5]

A pair of toy mice go on a quest for a home, pursued by an evil rat. I read a blog post about this which made me want to read it, and I thought it might be a good introduction to Hoban's adult books. It's a melancholy book with lots of death and I know it would have been too dark for me as a child. It's beautifully written and the helplessness and persistence of the mouse and his child give it the central effect of tenderness and wistfulness. There's some nice humorous bits about absurdist crow theatre etc. This did the epic journey genre really well for me; children's stories about toys are good like that, looking back, because you have to emphasise the characters' combination of helplessness with adventurousness and rely on happenstance to move them around. It makes the world seem big.

Definitely the kind of children's book that adults wax lyrical about but isn't really for kids, though.

[Ivan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm finally finished. It took me a year to read this. At first I loved it. Then I felt it got stodgy and seemed a bit of a ramble and I set it aside. But the plight of the mouse and his child kept nagging at me to return. I'm so happy I did. The last third is the best third - problems are resolved and friends reunited and enemies...well, I'm not going to ruin it for you. In the end this proved to be rewarding and uplifting.

[C. Hollis Crossman · Rating 5 out of 5]

I picked up this book pretty much at random. Frances the Badger was one of my constant and best friends as a child, but I knew nothing about this one and had no expectations either good or bad.

Wow. This is one of the best novels I've ever read.

I don't rate books on this site very often simply because I forget, but I felt impelled to rate The Mouse and His Child. You have to read this, I don't care who you are.

Hoban manages to reinvent the Classical epic genre: instead of a hero trying to get home, you get animals (some of them toys, others real) looking for a homeland. The author doesn't try to make the world less dark than it is. There's violence, double-crossing, eccentricity, death, and sorrow aplenty, mixed with some of the most poetic prose in all of literature and a fair amount of genuinely funny humor.

There isn't a scrap of cheesiness here. I cried as I read the final page because it ended so beautifully. This is a true work of art.

Is it for kids? Not all kids, certainly. This is a dark book, but it doesn't end dark, and there's plenty kids will enjoy. But whether you read it as a child or as an adult, The Mouse and His Child needs to be on your list.

[Julie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Bedtime stories to give your child nightmares - an extract
“It’s nothing said the frightened donkey as he heard Manny Rat approach his blind side
“I’ve got plenty of work left in me, I was just feeling a little low - you know how it is”
“You’re not well” said Manny Rat “I can see that easily, what you need is a long rest.”
He picked up a heavy rock, lifted it high, and brought it down on the donkeys back, splitting him open like a walnut. “Put his works in the spare parts can” said Manny Rat to Ralphie

[Peacegal · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars --- Of all the films that had a formative effect on me growing up, and The Mouse and His Child ranks near the top. For years I couldn't remember the title, but images such as the dog food can "infinity" scene and the captive pink elephant remained lodged in my brain.

"The Mouse and His Child" is a dark story. It makes "The Secret of NIMH" look positively joyous by comparison. I finally became aware of the book the movie was based upon, and it too, is a decidedly dark piece of children's fiction. I do think the author took the ending several pages too far, as if he needed to assure readers that everyone lives happily ever after. I wonder if perhaps the editor demanded this for the children's market.

[Sylvester (Taking a break in 2023) · Rating 3 out of 5]

A children's fantasy on the darker side. Very well-written. Might be scary for young kids.

[CarolineFromConcord · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked this story but can't be sure who is the target. For a grownup, the cultural satire is clever and sometimes -- as in the case of the Crow's Caws of Art Experimental Theatre Group -- laugh-out-loud funny. But if it's meant for young children, I think it's too violent.

A mechanical mouse, physically attached to the child facing him, leaves the toy shop, first for a family that displays "wind-ups" at Christmas, and eventually for the wide world and its many dangers. The child wants a real family and a home. He can't stop thinking about the beautiful dollhouse in the toy shop and the windup elephant he wants for a mother. But the two mice, now broken and trashed, are pressed into service by the evil Manny Rat, who pursues them like grim death when they escape.

They encounter many interesting birds and animals, some of whom die violently, and they learn to use their brains and new friends to get themselves out of impossible situations. The child is the optimistic one, often cheering up his discouraged father and looking to the future.

The story was inventive, but what interested me most from the moment I saw what edition the library had reserved for me, was the illustrator. When I saw the name David Small, I caught my breath. The reason is that I knew David Small from a his memoir, *Stitches* (I wrote a reaction at GoodReads in 2010), a milestone of graphic literature. In it Small describes horrendous childhood abuse by twisted parents, his escape at age 16, and his rehabilitation.

As I studied the sweet father-son illustrations for Russell Hoban's book and the often threatening hovels where the wind-up toys landed, I was preoccupied with Small and what might be going through his head about fathers and sons. *The Mouse and His Child* came out in 1967, a whopping 42 years before the artist had enough of a grip on his own father-child relationship to write and illustrate his powerful memoir.

In one of the episodes where the tin toys fall over, though Hoban's text doesn't say what position they land in, Small shows the father on his back, which necessitates his holding the child directly over him. I found the classic pose of a normal father playing airplane with a beloved child touching, especially as I know the artist didn't have anything like that.

I read this book and two others (*The Seeing Stone* and *Tuck Everlasting*) because someone I don't know on Twitter said the books were the most important of his childhood. They all have something to do with death and the darker moments of life. I think *Tuck Everlasting* would be the best of the three for the kids I know. But I found that *The Mouse and His Child* propelled me forward because I wanted to ponder what the artist might be experiencing as he thought about how to illustrate the story of a loving father-son relationship.

[Rozzer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fey. Hoban (all Hoban) has an element of fey-ness in his work. Not terribly overwhelming (at least to me), but it's part of what makes Hoban Hoban. As far as I'm concerned. It's obviously related to his children's books. So it might be said that he also wrote children's books for adults. Which some adults (including me) enjoy very much indeed. Because in addition to the fey, there's also a no-holds-barred imagination and insistent refusal to obey any of the standard rules of adult fiction. Which is all to the good. Some of his works I can't place. I really don't know whether "The Mouse and His Child" is for children or adults. It could well be for both. Having only encountered Hoban as an adult, and not having read any of his more obviously "for children" books, I can't say. They work for me. They open new doors. They present me with possibilities of which I haven't thought.

I first met Hoban in Woolworth's a ways back. Back when all small towns had a Woolworth's (all long since gone). Among their other treasures (not least that lunch counter), our Woolworth's had a fifty-cent remainder bin which, unlike most remainder bins today, actually had remainders of (at times) good books. Going through it sometime in the late seventies, I found a copy (minus dust jacket) of something called Kleinzeit by someone named Russell Hoban. I started reading and was captivated and paid my fifty cents. Kleinzeit. What a wonderful introduction to Hoban. An entry door. Still have it, along with what must be about half his adult stuff. The London tube. Street musicians. What must it have been like to actually be Hoban? To inhabit his head? How did he do it? How could he see things in this way?

[Kyle · Rating 3 out of 5]

A very interesting "children's" book. A lot of reviews address this book as dark. I would rather say that it addresses issues we would not normally find ourselves talking to children about and maybe should, especially in this day in age, when it is expected all to be well and all to succeed and the like. Where there is no failure, where life is definitely a struggle, and that without hope and faith, there is little else to sustain us. Things that need to be discussed with children. There are bad things in this world and one does not always get what they want and in many cases defeat is a great learning tool.

This book address a lot of issues and I believe it should be read first by the perspective parent, so they can be prepared to answer and thoroughly discuss the questions children, with their innocent perspectives, are going to come up with.

[Brandee Shafer · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this. I don't remember reading it as a child, watching the movie, or hearing anything about it. I'm honestly not even sure how the book came to be in my possession, but if it wasn't my favorite of the books I read to my kids this year, it was certainly my favorite of the books I read to my kids that I'd never read, before. (It's hard to compete with Sheila the Great and The Best Christmas Pageant.)

The Mouse and His Child is an adventure story of the caliber of so many other, better known ones. I enjoyed it beginning to end. The writing is beautiful, and the story is one that meets a person where (s)he is. A child can get so much out of it, but on an entirely different and deeper level, so can an adult. Already, I want to reread it.

[Seonaid · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wasn't sure about the book when I started reading it. The Mouse and his child, stuck together eternally, made me feel claustrophobic, and I could not accept that this was a children's book. Then, suddenly, it just clicked with me, and I started to love it, to the extent I could hardly then put it down.

To me, this is not a kid's book, though I have friends whose kids also love it; this is a book about identity, about growing up and becoming autonomous; this is a book about brutality, perseverance, failure and ultimate success. I didn't find it an easy read, but I did find it beautiful, lyrical in places, and one of the most existentialist books I have ever read.

[Amy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a book for adults. It is full of adult humor and themes--satire, parody, existentialism, nostalgia... I read it as a fourth grader but I don't think I understood it then, though I hope I enjoyed the adventure story. As an adult I loved it and cried at the end. The last few chapters are very satisfying and tender and smooth it out after all the scary and distressing events earlier in the book. It is a very unique work but if you like rereading classics such as Charlotte's Web as an adult, then you're probably someone who would like this.

[Isobelle Carmody · Rating 5 out of 5]

The most beautiful book I have ever read

[Gretchen Rubin]

This was a choice for one of my children's literature reading groups. A sweet story. I do love Hoban's Frances books more, I must confess.

[Tory C. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I discovered this book when I was under a tremendous amount of stress and flirting with the borders of depression. I was aware of my iffy state of mind and was careful in my choice of books. I didn’t need anything like 1984 or Graveyard of the Fireflies which would surely send me into the abyss with a one-way ticket. I started The Mouse and His Child with caution, ready at any moment to shut the book and send it back unfinished should the story take a downward turn—and it seemed at any moment it might. I have no idea what the author, Russell Hoband, intended, but I was able to finish the book and feel better, much better, at the end than I did at the beginning.

One question I still have is if The Mouse and His Child is a children’s book, a young adult book, or an adult book? The protagonist of the story is a mechanical windup toy of a mouse joyfully holding his child up at the end of outstretched arms. When wound they dance in a circle. This sounds to be a children’s book, doesn’t it? But when they get sent out into the world they don’t find the Hundred Acre’s Wood. Instead they witness the murder of other windup toys, slaughter among warring shrews, and an actor rabbit murdered by a rioting audience during a performance of “The Last Visible Dog.” Speaking of the last visible dog, what lies behind it? The philosophy in this book can go as deep as you want it to go. So it’s not a children’s book right? I don’t know. I do know I read it to my thirteen year old daughter and she loved it. I know that I, a fifty-five year old man, loved it also.

How does a windup toy survive in a world as dark and dangerous as the one I previously described? That answer to this is the magic of the story. Hoband mixes characters of humans, windup toys, and animals to weave as colorful and imaginative a tale as I have ever read. It is so creative and colorful that you will hardly notice that you are walking a path of familiar themes of faith, struggle, family, and triumph.

The Mouse and His Child is not a recipe book for those looking for a comfort read. I don’t know that this book will develop imagination in a person, but I do know that imaginative readers may find this book fascinating and satisfying on many levels.

[Chris Browning · Rating 5 out of 5]

Is this the best book Hoban wrote? Or, could you argue, are they all one big book that he spent his life writing with variations of the same themes repeating in wildly different formats but all pointing to the same end: Hoban’s peculiar but wildly optimistic and joyful view of the circle of life

In many ways this is a nice companion to his later Trokeville Way, which makes many of t same points but in a somewhat more literal manner. Here Hoban is using the concept of the toys coming alive to tell something closer to a fable - in many ways it pitches somewhere between the simplistic allegory of Pilgrim’s Progress and the Alice books. But there’s an innate Hoban-ness about it (and it really needs the beautiful scratchy art of Lillian Hoban too, not this new cover nonsense) that makes it unique

Death is always at the surface. Many characters die and sometimes in wildly blackly comic manners. Sometimes in very matter of fact ways. Another character goes through a literal transformation, almost all the others go through a figurative one. And at the centre of it all is The Last Visible Dog and the search for Self Winding. One is an existential moment of self empowerment as the child realised that what is beyond the last visible dog is himself and the other a design for life, but one which requires the help of others

It’s incredible and beautiful and endlessly full of Hoban’s genius and everyone needs to enjoy it at least once in their life

[Melinda · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is something else. And something else. And something else. The language is playful and pointed, the characters are human and not, and the themes run the gamut from "there's no place like home" to contemplating what exists after The Last Visible Dog. I read it too quickly, as I'm apt to do with short books, but obviously this tale will need to be revisited to savor. Basically, it's the story of a windup father mouse and his son cast out upon the cruel world. First, survival, then the search for "home" and "family" (make your own and it can look like anything), and of course, uncode the secret for self-winding so you need never rely on others again -- but you always will and that makes you fortunate, indeed, as the last battle shows. Every piece of the tale serves a purpose, just as often we can see patterns in our life long after events have occurred. No platitudes, but many thoughtful ponderings here. This is a beautiful, horrible, blazingly "true" story. Read it and just try to forget it. I'm certain I won't be able to.

[lethe · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of my all-time favourites, a beautiful story for children of all ages (but not for the too-fainthearted: there is a lot of killing in this book).

I re-read it in Dutch because it had been over 30 years, whereas I had read the original only in 2008. I kept both editions next to each other and occasionally looked up how certain things had been translated. That way I discovered that some sentences and paragraphs had been left out, which is why this translation only gets 4 stars from me instead of 5.


Edit 18 June 2022: adding my text update under the spoiler tag in case it is disappeared:

December 27, 2020 – page 46
23.59% "(…) zijn stem kwam van ver toen hij sprak: 'Laag in het duister van de zomer, hoog in het winterlicht; een moeizame lente, een verpletterende val in de herfst, wat uiteengevallen is, wordt weer bijeengevoegd. De vijand die u aan het begin ontvlucht wacht u aan het eind weer op.' (p. 36)"

[Sharon · Rating 2 out of 5]

"The Mouse and His Child" is an interesting book. It was not exactly what I expected. For one thing, even though it's presented as a book for children, it really struck me as much more a book for adults because the whole thing is a metaphor for many adult issues. The mouse and child in question are, in fact, mechanical toy mice. The story follows their adventures from a toy shop to being bought and discarded, and everything that follows. At its heart, this is a book about a journey of self-discovery. The toy mouse father and his son meet many interesting characters along the way, some who want to use them and some who want to help them. Their adventures and conversations cover a number of sociocultural issues and reminded me a bit of both "Animal Farm" and "Watership Down," although this book is much less political in theme. Overall, I found this book mildly enjoyable. I would not recommend it for kids, but adults might find the social satire and commentary interesting.

[Max Nemtsov · Rating 5 out of 5]

Великий псевдодетский роман — его смело можно ставить рядом с «Уотершипскими холмами», только он про неочевидных обитателей пригородных помоек и свалок и их своеобразные взаимоотношения с заводными игрушками. В «Мыши», к тому есть периодические пародийные выходы в экзистенциализм, Бекетта, позитивизм и абстрактное мышление в целом, а очарование автоматонов настолько велико, что поневоле наделяешь их искусственным интеллектом, но там никаких наебок — только аналоговые часовые механизмы. Тема могла бы развиться и дальше в продолжении про Крыса Мэнни (который в неудачном ру-переводе почему-то назван «Крысим Хватом», равно как и титульным героем там сделан сын, а не папа; впрочем Хобану вообще не везло с изданиями на русском до сих пор), который в неоконченном продолжении вступает в непростые отношения с церковным органом. В общем, что курил автор в 60-х, когда это писал, спрашивать бесполезно, но получилась у него одна из самых причудливых литературных фантазий ХХ века.

[Oscar Despard · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Mouse and His Child, by Russell Hoban, is a pleasant yet touching story about a clockwork mouse and his child's search for a territory to call their own. It progresses at a pleasant pace, apart from a somewhat slow and uninteresting part in the middle of the book, it is intriguing throughout. I enjoyed the end a huge amount, and I would recommend it to a friend.

[Anna · Rating 1 out of 5]

I really had to give up on this one. I understand the ending is a happy one so tried to persevere. As I read for pleasure this was far from pleasant. I certainly can't see this as a 'children's' book. I guess I am definitely more of a 'Velveteen Rabbit' person than I am a 'Mouse and his Child' person.