A reimagining of the fairytale of the Twelve Dancing Princesses as flappers during the Roaring Twenties in Manhattan.
Jo, the firstborn, "The General" to her eleven sisters, is the only thing the Hamilton girls have in place of a mother. She is the one who taught them how to dance, the one who gives the signal each night, as they slip out of the confines of their father's townhouse to await the cabs that will take them to the speakeasy. Together they elude their distant and controlling father, until the day he decides to marry them all off.
The girls, meanwhile, continue to dance, from Salon Renaud to the Swan and, finally, the Kingfisher, the club they come to call home. They dance until one night when they are caught in a raid, separated, and Jo is thrust face-to-face with someone from her past: a bootlegger named Tom whom she hasn't seen in almost ten years. Suddenly Jo must weigh in the balance not only the demands of her father and eleven sisters, but those she must make of herself.
Genevieve Valentine has sold more than three dozen short stories; her fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in Clarkesworld, Strange Horizons, Journal of Mythic Arts, Fantasy Magazine, Lightspeed, and Apex, and in the anthologies Federations, The Living Dead 2, The Way of the Wizard, Running with the Pack, Teeth, and more.
Her nonfiction has appeared in Lightspeed, Tor.com, and Fantasy Magazine, and she is the co-author of Geek Wisdom (out in Summer 2011 from Quirk Books).
Her first novel, Mechanique: A Tale of the Circus Tresaulti, is forthcoming from Prime Books in May 2011. You can learn more about it at the Circus Tresualti website.
Her appetite for bad movies is insatiable, a tragedy she tracks on her blog.
Retelling something as familiar as a fairy tale can be a risky proposition. In some cases, magic can come out of the details as an author elaborates on a classic. For instance, I happen to love Robin McKinley’s book Beauty, a take on the old tale “Beauty and the Beast.” On the other hand, when she re-told the story again twenty years later in Rose Daughter, I didn’t care for it at all. So I brought few expectations to my reading of The Girls at the Kingfisher Club, a retelling of the fairy tale “The Twelve Dancing Princesses.” To my delight, I found a creative, emotionally complex story that takes the original in an empowering direction.
In most versions of the fairytale “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” (a German version is titled “The Worn-Out Shoes“), the story focuses on a challenge to discover why a king’s twelve daughters wake up in the morning with holes in their shoes (one version here). The king is baffled and frustrated, and offers a reward to anyone who can solve the mystery–but if not, then off with his head. Many have been died after falling asleep during their watch. Before accepting the challenge, a soldier meets an old woman who gives him a magic cloak and warns him not to drink anything from the princesses. After the soldier pretends to fall asleep, the princesses dress, go through a secret passage to an underground lake, row across and through a forest of metallic trees, and spend the night dancing with princes at a ball. As they return, the invisible soldier breaks off a piece of a tree, first silver, then gold. On the last night, he steals a goblet from the ball as proof. When the king demands an accounting, the soldier provides the proof and is rewarded by marrying one of the princesses.
Clearly, the origin story is a complex bit of fairy tale, with princesses that are complicit in the deception, a father who is outside it but cruel with his consequences, and a ordinary man using magical gifts to catch the princesses in their dishonesty. Girls versus their father, a common man versus princes, and duplicity all around.
Valentine takes these elements and heads into a very interesting direction. Twelve girls are growing up in a wealthy but isolated household in early Prohibition New York. Rarely permitted outside, or even invited to the downstairs levels of the house to visit their mother, they are ruled by their father in an extremely circumscribed life. Jo, the oldest, has met her mother only a handful of times, and the youngest haven’t met her mother at all. It falls to Jo as the oldest to negotiate on behalf of the sisters with her father. Told in third person limited, largely from Jo’s point of view, Jo ponders her nickname “The General,” arising from the unenviable position as enforcer/mitagator of her father, but yet attempting to protect them against his rage. Unfortunately, her efforts are often underappreciated. “A ripple of relief ran through the room. It was too loud, too happy; it was a gloss over an unspoken thrum of mutiny so sharp that Jo felt like someone had snapped a rubber band against her wrist.“
Early on, Jo and the second oldest, Lou, would sneak out to the movies where the girls would learn new dances. Natural talents, dancing became a way to escape their limited lives. As each successive sister was delivered upstairs, she was eventually taught to dance by her sisters. In an act of desperation, Jo suggests sneaking out to go dancing–she knows if she doesn’t let the girls blow off steam in some fashion, they might simply run away and be lost forever. The night out dancing is a success, giving the girls hope, a reason to exist and a source of joy and discussion to fill their days. They danced through their nights, unattainable to the men at the clubs: “The girls were wild for dancing, and nothing else. No hearts beat underneath those thin, bright dresses. They laughed like glass.“
Trouble begins on two fronts when their father decides to actively intrude in their lives. As he schemes to marry the girls off, he gets wind of stories about a bevy of girls dancing at local speakeasies. An ad in the newspaper strikes fear in Jo as soon as she learns of his plans. “The girls could hope that these husbands, wherever her father planned to find them, would be kinder and more liberal men than he was. But the sort of man who wanted a girl who’d never been out in the world was the sort whose wife would stay at home in bed and try to produce heirs until she died from it.“
The last section follows the girls as they discover life outside their father’s house. I rather enjoyed that Valentine took her story a step beyond the simple “they escaped and they all lived happily ever after,” and looked at the challenges of making a life, and how different the idea of success could be for each sister. “She was still trying to discover how people related to each other, and how you met the world when you weren’t trying to hide something from someone. It was a lesson slow in coming.“
As in all fairy tales, characters exist largely as archetypes. With twelve sisters, it’s hard to achieve a great deal of individuality with each, but Valentine succeeds with a few, particularly Jo, Lou (the second oldest), and Doris (the sensible one). I thought Jo’s emotional dilemma was well done. The father is perfect; elegant, controlling, and all implied threat.
The setting of New York during Prohibition was nicely done. I’ve read a number of books that were quite enamored of the 1920s, but focused on the setting at the expense of character. Valentine achieves a nice balance between the magic of the clubs and plotting. My chief complaint was a writing style that felt awkward. Additional thoughts and commentary were often given in parenthesis, and the purpose/voice weren’t always clear. Nonetheless, I enjoyed the way Valentine’s tone and word choice was able to capture the emotional magic of a fairy tale but incorporate it into a real-world setting.
Overall, I’d call it a delightful improvement on the original tale. I’d highly recommend it to fans of fairy-tales, sister bonds, coming of age stories and gentle romance. Thanks to NetGalley and Atria books for providing me an advance ereader copy. Quotes are taken from a galley copy and are subject to change in the published edition. Still, I think it gives a flavor of the magical writing.
Oh, and review with links (including a link to a fairy tale database and a version of the fairy tale) can be found through my primary site: http://clsiewert.wordpress.com/2014/0...
I did like this book. I have had a review copy of this book for a very long time and I have to admit that I didn't remember a whole lot about what the book was about when I got started with it. I now realize that this book is a retelling of the Twelve Dancing Princesses. I have a small confession to make...I don't know a lot of fairytales well. I pretty much know what Disney has covered. I was discussing this book with my teenage daughter after I finished it and was reminded that we once had the Barbie version of the story. So I can't really make any comparisons to the original story but I thought it was enjoyable on its own.
Jo is the oldest of twelve girls. She lives in the attic along with her sisters. Her mother is gone but she rarely saw her anyway. Jo is the one who really takes care of her sisters and also deals with their father's demands. The girls have one bright spot in their lives and that is dancing. Once the house goes quiet, they sneak out to dance at the local clubs. They know all of the dances and are quite popular with the gentlemen looking for a partner.
I liked Jo and respected her dedication to her sisters. Some of her sisters didn't even realize how much she gave up for them. I also really liked the second oldest sister, Lou. I loved the relationship between Lou and Jo and thought that they really worked well as a team. I must say that I had a really difficult time keeping a lot of the sisters straight and felt that they just kind of blended together. There were a couple of other characters that stood out in the story, like Tom, but I do wish that I would have had a better feel for all of the sister's personalities.
I chose to listen to this story and thought that Susie Berneis did a great job with the story. I think that she handled the character voices very well and the dialogue in the story flowed well. I think that she was able to add excitement to the story as well. I found her voice to be very pleasant and easy to listen to for hours at a time.
I would recommend this book to others. I think that readers who enjoy retellings or books set in the Jazz Age will enjoy this story. I wouldn't hesitate to read more of Genevieve Valentine's work.
I received a digital review copy of this book from Atria Books via NetGalley and borrowed a copy of the audiobook from my local library.
Initial Thoughts This is probably closer to a 3.5 star read for me. This is a retelling of the Twelve Dancing Princesses and I enjoyed this story despite not really knowing anything about the original. Jo was a great character and there were a few others within the group of sisters that really stood out but at times the group could be a bit overwhelming to try to keep straight. Once the story really got moving, I started enjoying it quite a bit more than I had in the earlier sections. I decided to listen to the audio and I thought that the narrator did a fantastic job with this story.
I like Genevieve Valentine's writing. I have enjoyed everything I have been able to read by her.
I am not at all familure with the fairy tale of the Twelve Dancing Princesses as told by the Brothers Grimm, so I am not sure if it helped or hindered my reading of a retelling of the tale.
After finishing the book I looked here on GR to read some of the reviews of the book to see what others thought of the tale. To my surprise I could not find many reviews by other guys, which kind of worried me, as I quite enjoyed the book and wondered if it was gender specific.
I guess a book about twelve girls growing up in prohibition era New York may not appeal to a lot of guys, but what the heck I am broadening my horizons.
I found that parts of the book were a bit repetitive, that is why I only gave it four stars. Genevieve Valentine is a heck of a writer and I will continue to look for and read her work.
You know how sometimes I distinguish between a historical romance, where characters act in period-appropriate ways, and a costume romance, where modern characters are dressed in historical costumes and situations? I thought about that a lot while I was reading this book.
Some of the girls are living in a historical story, where they are the product of their society and their times. Some of them are us, with our modern attitudes toward men and what we can do. And one of them is Jo, who is beautifully iconoclastic because she was raised by wolves, or a set of strict governesses, but the effect is the same, to make her hyper-aware of the rules and give not one shiny copper penny for them, except in terms of consequence. She is not ruled by shame, she is ruled by fear, and once she loses that fear, all gell breaks loose. I loved that so much.
I have always thought that any number of siblings over 2 is going to involve factionalism and clicques, as well as familial understanding and love. I liked that we got a chance to see how that played out. I was also really interested in how very much Jo was like her father, but then decided to turn that same tendency into something so much lovelier and more productive.
I am super impressed at Valentine's ability to take a fairy story and retain all the elements, but change them enough to make them her story, not jut a colored-in photocopy. I said, 10 years ago, that it was going to be interesting to watch the writers who were growing up on Datlow and Windling and what happened to their take on mytheopia once everyone calmed down a bit about telling fairy tales and stopped putting quite so many lakes of blood in them (on my reader now, Ursula Vernon's Toad Words and Other Stories, which I suspect will be interesting as a comparative point and also awesome). Valentine's New York is neither UBER GRITTY DARK nor a friendly woodland forest, but a real-feeling place with police raids, payoffs, handsy stevedores and Chinese bartenders.
I suggest people with super controlling parents in real life read this story with caution. Valentine does not pull punches on how very bad it can/could get if your parent is willing to retain control at any cost. I was honestly reading with my heart thudding because it was so plausible that everything would go wrong at several points in the story.
This book keeps lingering with me, like sparkles rubbed off after a night of clubbing will still be around the next Wednesday, just catching your eye a tiny bit.
Read if: You like gin joints, dancing, retold fairy tales, and problematized ever-afters.
Skip if: You don't like reading about people being caged up, you have problems with mental commitment as a control device.
Read also: Princess of the Midnight Ball, for another version of this story that is a little more castle-and-princess-magicy, but still has great dancing descriptions and a clear personality for each princess. Sold for Endless Rue, which it took me a while to realize was even a retold fairy tale.
**Thank you Atria Books and Netgalley for providing this in exchange for an honest review**
DNF @ 45%
I should have loved this book. It has two of my reading favorites going for it: Fairy Tale retelling and the 1920s setting. Everything about it fell flat. I really wanted to finish this, since it was provided free of charge, but after making it only 45% in 4 days I think it's time to admit defeat. I seem to be the only person who didn't care for this title. Maybe it's a case of the author's writing style not being my cup of tea. I don't think I'll try reading anything else by the author.
This book ripped me to shreds. I heard that it was good, and when I knew what it was about, I had to read it. A novelization of 'The Twelve Dancing Princess' set in the Roaring Twenties? Yes, please!
I started and could. not. stop. I think I stayed up until about three in the morning reading until I couldn't keep my eyes open, which hasn't actually happened in a long time.
I just. Wow. The writing was beautiful, and both the characters and the plot were so well-formed and thought out, I was speechless. I'm telling you, the plot was BRILLIANT. I loved the way Genevieve Valentine changed the original fairytale into something more fitting for the 1920's.
Though I laughed and smiled through a vast majority of this book, it was sad and I also cried. It didn't end quite like the original tale did, which actually made it seem more realistic. The second half of the book was both beautiful and heartwrenching, and depicted so incredibly well.
I can't get over this book. Everyone needs to read this.
This is historical fiction and a fairy tale retelling. Combine the prohibition era with 'The Twelve Dancing Princesses' and you get 'The Girls at the Kingfisher Club.' The roaring twenties is a perfect setting for this Grimm fairy tale. The reality of restriction and prohibition in the society of day leading to an overwhelming majority of citizens rebelling by drinking at the speakeasy's at night. Politicians and policemen frequented the speakeasy's while their political platforms railed against corruption and the vice of drink. Bootlegging alcohol across state lines was a booming trade, and the speakeasy that got raided was the one that didn't pay protection or a bribe. Now, add the state of women's rights. Previous to 1920 American women did not have the right to vote, and married women couldn't own property. They had no legal claim to money they earned, and were subject to the will of their husband, father, or nearest male relative. What better setting could you place a story about twelve princesses tightly controlled by their father who somehow wear out their shoes every night? This type of traditional father would never allow his daughters to go dancing. In his eyes, only disobedient lascivious women would engage in lewd behavior as dancing and drinking, and only a weak man can't control his women.
Mr. Hamilton is nouveau riche. He married a woman of status. Being a driven and ambitious man he knew that if he had a son he could enter the upper echelons of society. His wife, however, only had daughters. Mrs. Hamilton was never without child until she died. She conceived and birthed twelve daughters. Her twelve daughters rarely got to see her and were confined to the upstairs rooms. Only Josephine, the eldest was announced. None of the daughters were introduced to society and most never met their father. Only two were ever let outside the house at a time with a nanny. They had a governesses but as more daughters were born their father dismissed her deciding that the girls were Josephine and the eldest girls responsibility to educate and care for. Precious rare occasions took place when Josephine was taken to a movie or the opera as a special treat arranged by their mother. It had to be and hidden from their father. There were a few books and sporadic presents at Christmas time when their father was feeling generous but otherwise the were to stay away from windows, not be seen, and be forgotten. Josephine or Jo was their father's emissary. She negotiated a $4 allowance once a month to buy clothing, shoes and any large concerns. Jo learned early not to anger their father for fear of abuse and what consequence it would have for her sisters. Several time she sent her sister Ella, the actress, to play the role of a foolish and demure young woman to obtain needs rather than go herself. She was factual tempted to challenge - something that guaranteed refusal from their father.
The escape from their cage is dancing. Over years Jo's responsibility makes her seem like the nannies, and found she could escape with one of the girls for a few hours. They went to the movies, saw dancing, and fell in love. They practiced and made up steps until they grew the nerve for the oldest to leave, grab a cab, and go to the first club they heard of. They danced all night, but their were rules. You couldn't go if you were sick, if you were heart-sick, you could tell no one names or where they lived, if you got drunk you would be left, and they went home on Jo's orders. Over time they became know only as the princesses. They got a reputation for having tin hearts because they didn't dance for romance. Also, the princesses stuck together, if someone got handsy they had all the princesses to contend with.
Their father decides its time for them to marry and creates heartache and fear. It isn't that the girls don't want to marry. The concern is for the kind of man their father will pick for them. No introduction to society is planned. They are still a secret. Instead a few girls at a time will host quiet dinner parties with men their father deems suitable. Considering their fathers controlling and traditional values the sisters don't have much hope for nice open-minded men. What kind of man would want a woman who had been closeted away and knows nothing of the world.
This is a beautiful retelling. Valentine turned a tale about misbehaving cold-hearted young women on its head. It shows controlled, captive women struggling to find independence during the twenties when women just received the vote. Many women were breaking out of the sole role of being at home as mother and housekeeper. The story shows their need to be cold. Solidarity for the sisters was a necessity of survival. Valentine's writing is beautiful, but I found I didn't have the time to read as much as I wanted. When I saw it was available on audible I snapped it up. It's a fabulous way to enjoy the book. Susie Berneis is the narrator. I had read some critique of minimal character development of the sisters outside of Joe. Listening to Susie Berneis I didn't notice it as much. There are a few sisters who definitely do not get as much attention, but the narration made it feel natural. This is not a romance but does deal with gender roles and the dynamics in dating and marriage during the era. A few kisses are discussed perfunctorily, but nothing in any kind of detail.
I recommend this to anyone who enjoys the roaring twenties, fairy tale retelling, The Twelve Dancing Princesses, and the study of social dynamics during Prohibition in the twenties. Listen to this rather than reading it if you enjoy audible books.
In this fairy tale retelling, author Genevieve Valentine takes the classic story of the Twelve Dancing Princesses and transplants it to Jazz Age Manhattan, with a result that is equal parts captivating and frustrating.
The Twelve Dancing Princesses was always one of my favorite fairy tales. In a nutshell: A king with twelve daughters locks the princesses into their chamber each night, but each morning finds that their shoes are worn completely through. He offers the pick of the princesses to any suitor who can find out for him how the girls wear out their shoes — but anyone who tries and does not succeed must die. Prince after prince fails to figure out the secret, until finally one man comes who manages to outwit the princesses and follows them to a secret castle where they dance all night until their shoes are worn through. Ta da! He wins the hand of a princess and the kingdom besides. The end.
In The Girls at the Kingfisher Club, the father is no king, but a wealthy, grasping businessman trying to break into high society. His wife produces daughter after daughter, much to his dissatisfaction, so he keeps her pregnant, time and again, until after twelve failed attempts at a son and heir, his frail wife finally gives up the ghost.
And the girls? Each girl is sent upstairs to be raised among her sisters, with a tiny allowance for clothing, a meager library to learn the basics, and strict requirements that they be neither seen nor heard. The girls are hidden away from the world, kept indoors and educated first by tutors, then later by the older sisters, with no hope and no way out. The oldest sister, Josephine (Jo), serves as liaison, summoned a few times a year into her father’s presence to give reports, receive any orders, and then sent back to enforce her father’s rules.
But as the girls age, their frustration grows, and Jo knows it’s only a matter of time until her sisters run away or act rashly enough to bring disaster down on all of them — and so she figures out a release for them all. Jo learns to dance by sneaking off to see movies, then teaches her sisters, and eventually starts sneaking the girls out of the house at midnight to dance the night away at Manhattan’s hidden speaky-easys and dance halls.
Jo is known amongst her sisters as the General — the one in charge, demanding instant obedience, running their days and nights. Jo determines which nights they go out. Jo gets the cabs, Jo sets the rules: Flirt, but don’t give a man your name. Have fun, but don’t get romantically involved. Above all else, always be ready to run, and know where the exits are. The dance halls are glitzy and glamorous, and the beautiful, exotic girls with no names — affectionately nicknamed “the Princesses” — are the talk of the town, but there’s a constant risk of police raids, or even worse, having their father find out what they’re up to.
When their father finally decides to assert his control in new and awful ways once his daughters are of marriageable age, the sisters have to figure out how to survive — and Jo has to both let go and start to live for herself, rather than putting her own needs after those of her sisters.
There’s a lot to like about The Girls at the Kingfisher Club. In this mostly successful retelling, the fairy tale works well in its new setting. There’s a terrible logic to the father’s cruelty and tyranny, and the girls’ lives are uniformly dull and drab except for their nightly escapes. The dance halls are described in all their decadent 1920s glory — no wonder the sisters come to life on the dance floor, dancing the Charleston with enchanted admirers, always the belles of the ball, living fully in the moment. The era is a smart choice for this story, a time when women started emerging into something like independence, yet often chained to their fathers or husbands by complete financial dependence and a society that viewed strong women as depraved, or worse, mentally unstable.
Where the novel is less successful is in creating twelve distinct characters for the reader to care about. Jo is the point of view for the story, and we come to know her sisters through her eyes, but it’s difficult to differentiate one from another, particularly those we only see in passing. Certain sisters have more distinctive roles to play, but others seem to come and go with only a few lines or scenes, and it’s hard to remember who’s who or what’s special about each one.
The narrative style is somewhat choppy, so that while some passages and chapters keep the feeling of a fairy tale in their descriptions — telling the story in broad strokes that seem like an outsider’s perspective on an enchanted world — other chapters bog down and feel sluggish. The book suffers a bit from a lack of intimacy. Perhaps because there are so many girls to keep track of, none seem very knowable, and I didn’t end up feeling connected emotionally to any of the characters, thus making the stakes of the story less compelling than they should have been.
Did I enjoy The Girls at the Kingfisher Club? Yes, quite a bit. Still, something was lacking, and the story always felt as thought it was unfolding at a distance. I wanted to know what happened, but I wasn’t invested in any one of the sisters enough — even main character Jo – to make the story feel the urgency it should have by the end.
Still, if you enjoy reading about the roaring 20s and relish the thought of a flapper-era fairy tale, check out The Girls at the Kingfisher Club. For those who always wanted to be one of the royal, glamorous sisters who dance the night away, this book offers a fresh spin on an old tale — and if nothing else, will make you want to dust off your copy of the Brothers Grimm.
Note: This review also appears at Bookshelf Fantasies. Review copy courtesy of the publisher via NetGalley.
The rating for this book may suffer a bit from comparison. I first came across this book while browsing Valentine's page after being mesmerizing by Mechanique: A Tale of the Circus Tresaulti. Of the books on the page, this jumped out at me because I have something of a fascinating with flappers and the 20s, and also with fairy tale retellings. But this book just didn't quite have the same magic as the first, for me - thus the comparison thing.
It is told in a similar style, which I think really works for the fairy tale aspect. It sort of goes back and forth in time, with little references to things that happen, which get fleshed out a bit down the line.
I did think it captured the essence of the 112 Dancing Princesses story well, while offering a unique twist on the tale and making the girls much more sympathetic than their Grimm counterparts.
It also captures the flapper spirit fairly well - but I would definitely mark this more as a fairy tale than a historical fiction. I mean, it has the speakeasies and dancing and fashion and whatnot, the raids and the sort of complicit cops and all that, but it still sort of felt more like window dressing than entirely being immersed in the culture. Part of this is because of the girls strange situation with their father, but I think part of it is because it is more about the girls and the Roaring 20s offers a good background for the story - and the suffrage movement and women looking for more rights and freedoms certainly does mesh well with the story of 12 daughters locked away by their disappointed father.
Anyway -
The bulk of this story is told from Jo's perspective - the eldest daughter and 'General' of the others, who lives in a strange middle ground of trying to protect her sisters from their father, but also having to sort of enforce his edicts. As much as the story is about all the sisters, it focuses most heavily on her own precarious position, of trying to walk that line of mother and sister and go-between, and of finding her own voice and her own place in the world.
We do see some of the other sisters' perspectives, but only snippets, and I think I would've liked to learn a bit more about them. It was hard to keep them straight in my head, especially towards the beginning, precisely because we mostly see them through Jo's perspective - so we learn more about those closest to her in age - and the others, for much of the book, are sort of defined by one overall descriptor.
The story started a bit slowly, but really picked up a bit more than halfway through. I will say that I really felt for Jo and the girls at parts in the story, especially for what Jo did for Lou. That was kind of heart breaking. And their father was such an ass, he made me so mad.
But I'm glad that, at the end of the day, everything seemed to work out - but I wished there was just a little more closure at the end. If felt like it ended kind of abrsuptly, especially fter belaboring certain parts that I felt could've gone a bit faster.
I enjoyed this book, but it just didn't draw me in as much as I was hoping for. The characters were interesting, but it's almost as if the tough exteriors they'd developed to keep them from being hurt and heartbroken as they went out dancing also kept the reader distant. I expected to experience all of their frustration, excitement, joy, sadness, and fear, but that strong connection never fully happened. The reader sees most of the story from Jo's perspective, and several times I wished I could experience it from some of the other girls' perspectives, as well, in order to get a more intense story. My favorite part of the story was the setting of 1920s speakeasies, but even here I would have appreciated a little more depth. The girls experienced some difficult challenges, but all in all, they seemed to get through them more easily than I expected, or at least the most difficult aspects were described in a way that glossed over the real pain and horror. In an adult novel with this setting, I expected more grit.
* I received an electronic copy of this book through NetGalley for an honest review.
Well! I've done very little the past few hours except read this book. I did feel disconnected from it at times, but, overall, I liked it a lot. The narration is a bit dreamy, fairy tale-like, at times and that appealed to me a lot.
And I was able to keep track of all 12 sisters, which I thought was pretty impressive. (Of the book AND of me.)
(I read a review that called this a YA, which surprised me. Having read it, I still don't think it's a YA.)
Sparkling, boozy, and surprisingly subversive: in The Girls at the Kingfisher Club, Genevieve Valentine retells The Twelve Dancing Princesses with feminist, 1920s flapper flair. From the cramped attics of their cruel father’s townhouse to the smoky basement speakeasies, this book follows Jo “The General” and her sisters as they take their lives into their own hands through dance. Written in unique (and highly parenthetical) prose and with excellent attention to historical period, Valentine’s novel stands out not only on its merit as a retelling, but as a story in its own right.
What I love most about this book is the depth the author gives to a fairly surface-level only source material. Fairytales are not known for their character development, but Valentine brought that to the table here, managing to give each of the twelve sisters her own unique personality and agenda. The oldest sister, Jo, might have been the protagonist and the leader of the “Princesses”, but her development does not come at the expense of others. In such a short novel, and in only a few paragraphs, the author manages to completely characterize each girl so that they are separate individuals, not the hive mind their father (and other men) believe them to be.
With this attention to characterization in mind, The Girls at the Kingfisher Club is a coming of age story, particularly for Jo, but additionally for each sister in turn. This is a fairytale in which the princesses save themselves—there is no prince who frees these girls from their father; rather, they run away and make successful lives for themselves entirely on their own. There is a prince (more than one, really), but they are more content to watch their princesses fight their own battles and intercede only when asked. Another thing I love is that each sister’s battle is different: there is no universal “princess experience”, one could say. And as each sister chooses to make a life on her own terms, they way she goes about doing so reinforces her unique characterization and her own unique goals. There is no one thing that makes all women happy, and the Hamilton princesses prove that in this book.
Jo’s character arc is, of course, the most prominent throughout the book, and I thought it was beautifully done. More or less imprisoned for nearly three decades, without any contact with the outside world, the sisters have turned to Jo as their leader—a “General” rather than a maternal stand-in. She gives orders, and heaven help anyone who disobeys. Though her younger sisters think Jo cold, it is more that she has learned to set aside her own emotions in order to look out for the good of the group as a whole. Over the course of The Girls at the Kingfisher Club, Jo must learn to both pursue her own desires and learn to let her control over her sisters slip. Her simultaneous development in both directions is subtle, and deftly handled on the author’s part. The novel sees Jo freed from both the physical prison of her father’s home as well as the barriers she herself erected as a means of coping with his neglect.
It is not insignificant, either, that the novel takes place in 1927, a period when women were, relatively speaking, freer and less constrained by society and by men. Valentine’s chosen time period allows the Hamilton princesses to achieve a greater degree of freedom and to express their desires more boldly. One sister might become a Hollywood starlet, while the other becomes a sought-after seamstress on Fifth Avenue. The options inherent in the period, as well as Genevieve Valentine’s skillful portrayal of Prohibition-era New York, give this historical novel a wonderful, hedonistic atmosphere that perfectly complements the feminist themes working throughout the retelling.
As far as fairytale retellings go, this is one of the better ones I’ve encountered. The Girls at the Kingfisher Club is gorgeous and jaunty, capturing perfectly the historical time as well as the attitude of the eponymous princesses. Nuanced characterization and strong prose set this much-needed update of The Twelve Dancing Princesses apart from the crowd, though it’s a novel that doesn’t need the weight of its source material to make it worthwhile.
One of my all time favorite fairy tales is The Twelve Dancing Princesses, and this is set in the 20s, so I could not resist it! It's not magical, but that doesn't make it less enjoyable. Instead this is a story about sisterhood and women who are subjected to a father who does not know the meaning of love, much less doing the right thing by his family.
Josephine, who goes by Jo, and who is called General by her eleven younger sisters, has taken on the care of them. They are afraid and at times disdainful of her, using her as a punching bag for their resentment for their situation--virtual slaves in their father's house. Their father is a rich man who married into society. He kept his wife pregnant in the desire for a son, until she died. Now he's ashamed of having a quiver full of daughters and no son. He's ready to start marrying them off.
He is unaware that the daughters have started sneaking off at night to go dancing in the speakeasies and nightclubs that have sprung up as a result of Prohibition. The girls are carefully guarded and directed by The General, and she takes this responsibility seriously. It's not at all convenient when she falls in love, especially with eleven sisters to watch over.
The audiobook narration was absolutely the way to go with this book. The narrator was spot on. She imbues each character with life. I loved her cadence and intonation for each character. From the no-nonsense Jo, to the sarcastic Lou (2nd oldest), and even the male characters. I hated their father. What a horrible man. I felt for the sisters, especially Jo. The girls didn't realize how much she had suffered being the oldest. And how much she gave up for them.
Valentine nails the 1920s to a T. She gives the description that is needed to firmly cement the setting, and draws this reader into that atmosphere of the speakeasies and dance clubs, and the flapper culture.
I didn't think this would have a happy ending. At the risk of possibly spoiling, I will say I was happily surprised at the ending.
I have no great criticism of this novel. It just doesn't feel like a five star book. That doesn't mean it's not an awesome book. Recommended.
So, so, so, so good. Read entirely in one day. I could not put it down (except for the Germany vs. Argentina game) and didn't realize I had settled in for the night to finish it until I got to the last page. Oh, that awful father. And oh, poor Jo's heart wrenching decision. I liked the guys on the side as much as the girls and loved the glitz and glamour with an undercurrent of fear.
I absolutely adoredMechanique: A Tale of the Circus Tresaulti and thought at the time that Valentine was a beautiful writer with heartbreaking characters. This book confirms it.
It also shows that Mechanique's Elena is Valentine’s favorite type of heroine. Because Jo Hamilton, eldest of the twelve dancing sisters, is another version of Elena. Both girls are strict and stiff and unyielding - they do the right thing when it’s the hard thing and they contain their composure and their stiff upper lip no matter what the world throws at them. They can seem cruel and cold and heartless to others, but the truth is they’re all heart – every hard thing they do is for their loved ones. They have a family and they will protect that family to their dying breath, even if it makes their family hate them.
Jo is nicknamed “the General” by her sisters, and is their truly heartless father’s accidental lieutenant. Their father wants to keep his daughters locked up in the house, to be brought out only when he finds suitors for them. Their father does not love them - he sees them as only inconvenient possessions. Jo helps keep her siblings jailed because she’s afraid what will happen if they run away. But her sisters are restless and desperate in their prison of a house, and so finally one night Jo takes them dancing at one of the speakeasies that populate Prohibition-era New York City. Only at the clubs – only dancing – are these girls free. Of course, tyrannical old dinosaur that he is, their father eventually tries to marry them off for money.
Valentine does her best to differentiate the sisters, but there’s only so much you can do with 12 girls. I could never figure out their ages – who was older? who was younger? – and they were almost all beautiful and remote, so that didn’t help differentiate them. Jo is obviously the most developed one, and my heart aches for her. I love the Jos of the literary world – they are so strong and yet so brittle and so often undervalued and underappreciated. Lou, the second oldest, is Jo’s lieutenant. Lou wants to escape more than anyone, but she is also the only one who truly understands Jo and what she’s done for them (and what she’s sacrificed). So even though they are sometimes at odds, Lou presents a united front with Jo in front of the younger ones. Doris I mostly know because she’s the only one who actually falls for a guy their father picked, who against all expectations turns out to be a gentleman of the first water. Ella, meanwhile, is the most motherly. The others I can’t really keep track of, except the first set of twins were self-involved, and one of the twins in the second set is gay.
Valentine’s take on the “12 Dancing Princesses” is exactly how a fairy tale retelling is supposed to work. Enough details so it’s recognizable (the nightly dancing, the girls being called “princess” [because they don’t want to use their names], the suitors, the tyrant father, the “underground” world of the speakeasies where the dancing is), but not so many that it feels played out. Prohibition NYC is the perfect setting for this too – and Valentine is as good at historical fiction as she is with futuristic dystopia.
Valentine creates a pleasing tale similar to The Twelve Princesses by The Brothers Grimm.
I admit I was taken with this story from the beginning. I furiously turned every page with my curiosity and attention fully piqued. Needless to say I devoured this book in a matter of hours. Besides capturing my attention I completely adored the main protagonist Jo. Her protective nature, the way she diligently guards and cares for her sisters. She is ingenious, clever and ever self-sacrificing as she attempts to give her sisters a ray of happiness outside of their 'prison like' existence. The other sisters were appealing but Jo clearly took center stage as well as winning my heart. Valentine described speakeasies in great detail - you hear the clanging of liquor bottles, the fear of police raids, the thick cigarette smoke clinging in the air, feeling the beat of the music, the heat from the bodies as they dance the night all while keeping bold males roving hands off their person long into the wee hours. Excellent depiction of the Jazz Age and its glory.
Early on it is understood the girls fear their father, we experience his distance and coolness however, he is portrayed as a chimera. Yes, he isolates himself from his daughters, still I wish his character was developed more so his presence and fearful side could be felt and appear 'real' to the reader.
The themes of freedom, love, sacrifice and sisterhood including choices made this modern fairy tale a joy. Excellent way to escape, fun story, loads of topics for discussion.
Thanks to Genevieve Valentine, I know what I’m getting my oldest sister for Christmas.
The Twelve Dancing Sisters is a hard fairy tale to retell. Creating twelve unique characters is tough, and having them all appear on stage at the same time even harder. Yet I immediately felt engaged in the narrative, and I think that’s because Valentine mainly focuses on one character—the oldest sister Jo—and her deep but also undemonstrated love for all eleven of her sisters.
Jo is the General to her sisters, training them in their dance steps and leading them into battle at all the hippest 1920s speakeasies. While at first she dances along with her sisters, as more and more sisters are added, she becomes their guard, making sure all of them are safe on their late-night illegal dance offs. She keeps the girls in check with tight discipline, a discipline she worries she inherited from her father. Their father is a cold monster, imprisoning the twelve sisters in his estate. They’re not allowed to leave the house, and have never been outside during the day. But Jo and the next oldest sister Lou discover a way to sneak out at night without him noticing, and after that it’s dancing almost every night—until their father decides he wants to start marrying the girls off, and he begins suspecting what they’re up to.
I highly recommend this for fairytale lovers, historical fiction fans, and dancers.
Fairytales. I love them. And this one hits the mark.
Like all fairytales, it's a bit blurry around the edges: You could come up with a thousand questions about the details with no good answers, but the point of fairytales is to agree not to ask. ("What if the glass slipper fit somebody else first?" "...Be quiet.") I think the desperate, yearning, pragmatic mood the writing style creates adds to that blurriness and can occasionally obscure what's actually happening.
But the twelve dancing princesses (which I first read and still read in the form of a Little Golden Book version) come alive here. Each princess has her own personality, no matter how much or little screen time she gets; the beats of the tale are all covered with more richness and complexity... but none of the gratuitous gore that many adult fairytale retellings resort to. The '20s setting is a shining electrical current underlying the story, creating the means and the motive for the plot. It works well.
I had a little trouble getting into this book, as the beginning was rather muddy in terms of timeline and coherence. But I stuck with it and I'm glad I did -- I really enjoyed it.
In this novel, author Genevieve Valentine takes the Twelve Dancing Princesses' fairy tale and recreates the plot using the sights, sounds, and attitude of the beginning of the woman's movement as it appeared in the Roaring 20s and in the dark world of the speakeasy. Along with The Perfume Collector, this is one of my favorite novels of the year, and it definitely took me by surprise. I would love to see this book become a Broadway musical--I want to see and hear those sisters dancing live as well as meet their strong, maternal eldest sister, Jo (whose character and name is reminiscent of the character of "Jo" from Alcott's Little Women). Also fascinating is the (almost) unbelievable cloistered world the sisters are portrayed as living in with their tyrant of a father just downstairs. The feeling of entrapment and suffocation juxtaposed with the sister's psychological escape into music, dance, and ultimately, freedom was very intoxicating; I couldn't put the book down until it was all done. All in all, it's a book I would highly recommend.
This book was a chore to read. The story was so unbelievable and the characters were somewhat lackluster. Not only was the time period murky, but the time frame of the story was difficult to figure out. And what was up with the parentheses? I've never seen so many used anywhere and I'm not really sure what Valentine was trying to do with them. After a bit, they were so annoying. This book was a bust for me and the only reason I finished it was because of my book club.
I was describing this book to my cousin yesterday and based on our shared love of Princess of the Midnight Ball opened my mouth to recommend this one...and couldn't. This book brushes so close to something wonderful that I want to call it fantastic. But too much of it left me frustrated.
The premise is excellent. You've got a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling set in 1920s. 12 sisters, kept locked in the house all day, sneak out at night to join the dancing throngs of a speakeasy. Except one day their Father decides it is time he arranges marriages for them...and now they've got more at stake than their worn out dance shoes.
Here is where we hit the first difficulty: this book takes quite a suspension of disbelief. And I don't mean just because one poor woman apparently had 12 daughters with only 2 sets of twins. (Even Barbie threw in a set of triplets!) But you've got a very evil Father for no apparent reason. His desire for an heir reads somewhat incongruously with the emerging female independence of the early twentieth century. The daughters isolated life in the upper stories of the house and complete lack of contact wit the outside world gets glazed over. There is this looming threat that they will be sold into marriage and forced to give birth until they die...but frankly, it is a hard threat to swallow. And somehow no one--not servants or relatives or neighbors--looks twice at the number of girls hidden in the house. Call me skeptical. The fairtytale and the historical fiction just don't blend well.
If you roll with it, you do get an interesting heroine in Jo, the oldest of the sisters. She's not maternal but she feels response for her siblings so she runs things with an iron hand. She's very capable and I truly liked her character arc--romance aside, but I'll touch on that in the spoiler. The story doesn't really develop the other sisters outside of a few character traits, but it worked at least in the audio format. Jo is the main character. She's the arc we're following. And it is not until Joe begins to discover her identity outside of her sisters that the sisters begin to emerge with identities of their own.
The writing is very pretty, though heavy and slow. Which works both ways. It sets a scene beautifully but can also drag that scene out. I spent most of the book debating if I liked it or not. (I still don't know.) Overall I'd stick the writing in the 'plus' category. It certainly left me longing to buy a beaded dress and go dancing.
But what finally left me washing my hands of the whole thing was the ending. It could have been happily-ever-after. It could have been satisfyingly bitter-sweet. Instead we get some ambiguous nonsense.
I guess my takeaway is that outside of the last third of the book, I enjoyed this one. But for a prohibition era retelling, I have to recommend Speak Easy, Speak Love instead.
The Girls at the Kingfisher Club is an absolutely scrumptious retelling of the Fairy Tale 12 Dancing Princesses set in the 1920s during the prohibition era. The 12 Hamilton sisters are a huge disappointment to their wealthy autocratic father who only wanted a son. Their mother dies without giving him one and his daughters are kept secret and are rarely allowed to leave the house. They are schooled at home by a governess and order all their clothing by catalogs. One day one of the nannies takes Jo, the eldest, to the opera for her birthday and her passion for dancing is ignited. She teaches all her sisters to dance and soon dancing becomes the girls favourite pastime. They sneak out at night, first to theatres where they can see more dancing and learn more steps then later on to the underground speakeasies. As the younger daughters grow up they join their sisters where eventually the twelve become known in New York City clubs as the dancing princesses. They have a rule never to go out alone with a man or give their anyone their names. The strict and uncaring father is the villain in this story. When he suspects the girls' nocturnal activities he makes plans to marry them off to the next best suitors, ones who will keep them locked away just as he did. In the original fairy tale we are never certain about the princesses motives for dancing all night. In some retellings it is a fairy spell that forces the princesses to dance all night. In this historical novel there are no faeries, wizards or witches. The reason the sisters feel a compulsion to dance is they would go crazy if they didn't. They dance to feel free and alive. As a dancer this resonates with me. Having spent many years of my life studying various Middle Eastern dance forms ( including what is known in the West as belly dance), I know that even in the most conservative societies, where women are veiled, one of the first things the women do when they get together amongst themselves is dance! Perhaps this is the reason the 12 Dancing Princesses is one of my favourite fairy tales. The novel is a bit difficult get into at first. The first few chapters seem fast forwarded. It's difficult to keep track of which sister is which. However later on it not seem to matter, for ultimately this is a story of liberating ones self, coming of age and ultimately surviving in the world.
It's midnight. All over 1920s New York the speakeasies are hopping and girls are letting themselves go wild with this new liberation of shorter hemlines and shorter hair. The wildest of the girls are the 12 beautiful Hamilton sisters. No one knows their real names or identities. They just call them "Princess" when they want a dance. They don't know they're sisters or that they have been kept virtual prisoners by their wealthy, tyrannical father who wanted a son and hid the girls away in the upper floors of the house, one at a time and occasionally in twos, as there are two pairs of twins in this long line of sisters. Governesses have come and gone. No one has seen their mother in ages. Jo, the oldest sister, had the rare treat of going to the movies and came back with the idea to teach the girls, the older ones, anyway, how to dance like she saw in the film. This releases all the pent-up energy the girls have been holding back and they begin sneaking out at night and exploring the night life. Before long 12 girls wait for the magical words "Cabs leave at midnight" and they arrive at their true home, the Kingfisher Club. This is a book that captures all the vibrancy of a night on the town. the author, Genevieve Valentine, takes the old fairytale of the Twelve Dancing Princesses and turns it into a new classic. She brings the 20's to life and captures all the desperate urgency of these girls to live and love at top speed during those magical midnight hours. Jo, in particular, is a marvel. Called the General by her sisters, she can keep a cool head and organize their escapes night after night, year after year. There are tense moments, heartbreak and bravado. If you're looking for something different to while away a summer afternoon with then grab a copy of the The Girls at the Kingfisher Club and keep your dancing shoes handy because you just might feel like climbing on the nearest table top and dancing the night away with Jo and the girls! Thanks to NetGalley for the review copy!
I REALLY jived with this book and it's quite a quick read. It brings forth this weird era where women were seeing other women being independent yet it wasn't totally socially "appropriate" to do so (especially coming from money) at the time. I love reading books set in the Prohibition era. It's just utterly fascinating to see the period or rebellion and transition.
I was concerned at first that a cast of 12 would just be too much for me to keep straight bit other than Josephine and Louise, they mostly are just mentioned or are the driving force behind a decision. When they are brought up, it's continuously emphasized which of the siblings they are so it really didn't end up being a headache. Jo's a weirdly likeable and unlikeable character and sister which the author not only verbalized through dialogue but also showed through actions (a pet peeve of mine is when an author just TELLS you about who a character is and never shows you).
I also love that the plot is basically: we're gonna outlive our ancient sexist twat of a father. And BREAK!
Maybe the best fairytale re-working I've read. Valentine knows when to hew to the bones of the story--and when to follow the logic of the world and characters she's built to leave the traditional tale behind and let the story become something new. So this is a story about princesses, and dancing, and being locked in a tower--but it's also a story about the way people lock themselves in with their own expectations and fears, about the insidious rush of being needed, and about how to set that aside in place of love. The glittering depictions of jazz-age New York caught my attention, but it was the psychological tension that held it.
(I read most of this in audio, and it worked marvelously that way. But then I got impatient and read the last 50 pages on paper, and it worked that way, too.)
What really stood out to me about The Girls at the Kingfisher Club was how well it captured the feeling of a fairy tale without the actual inclusion of magic at any point. At times things felt not quite possible, like there was a sprinkle of magic across the story, but never anything more. The was also a lovely balance between fleshing out the princesses and keeping the moral simplicity of a fairy tale with the good people and the bad.
My only complaint is with the ending — slightly abrupt, and thus shortchanging Jo and Lou’s relationship, probably the most complex and interesting one in the book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This was a very clever retelling of a lesser known fairy tale (and by lesser known, I mean there is no Disney film or short film based off it yet).
The setting, writing, and characters were all very good and interesting. I love fairy tales and their retellings. I get really annoyed, however, with how many are being churned out without really doing much different with the story. The setting might change, but the basic pieces have not, so the story isn't really reinvented but lazily rehashed. The Girls at the Kingfisher Club didn't feel that way at all.
At times, the pacing did seem a bit too slow and sometimes I wanted Jo to just smack their dad and run off. But, as the story progressed and I remembered that ladies could just be sent off to mental asylums, it made sense. The ending provides a lot of closure as well, which is always great. It's been a while since I've read it, but I also felt like this was a much better version of Rules of Civility.
It's a fairy tale retelling and coming of age story with a 27-year-old woman as the protagonist trying to protect her 11 younger sisters and break them free from the home they've always been locked up in - this is basically all of my criteria for favorite story elements.
Really wanted to like it, but I find myself unable to determine who the intended audience was. If YA, the characters are too old. There is premarital sex and drinking so-- not for the conservative crowd. Sex is non-explicit and off-camera, so not for the "sexy retelling" crowd. Plot is thin and weak, characters are slap-dashed and proliferate and, particularly toward the end they just feel name-dropped in to fill space. There's no romance, so it's not for the "romantic retelling" crowd.
And, aside from having twelve girls who dance at night, this book has PISS ALL to do with the "twelve dancing princesses" fairy tale. I mean, absolute diddly crap.
--- The strongest part of this book is the opening-- the flash fiction that establishes the 12 girls out at night, in the speakeasy, in ways that mirror the fairy tale.
There are a few really strong, beautiful and poetic bits about them getting ready for the dances. Some of the best 1920s glamour-porn I've come across.
But there's really only half a book here, if that. Part of the problem is that the fairy tale is told from the perspective of the old soldier (he's young and handsome here-- you know, because) and the book is solidly in the head of the oldest princess. Gone are the underground golden trees, the boats that ferry them across a midnight lake, the invisibility cloak.
Instead we spend a lot of time on the oldest princess' romantic inclination toward the soldier. And then, quite abruptly at about the halfway point, we throw out everything about the fairy tale entirely.
Princess Jo makes the stupidest, most unsympathetic, meaningless and useless decision ever. The father, who was pompous but not outright evil-- abruptly becomes evil incarnate. The girls make their break for it-- with zero planning . That's at the halfway point aaaand-- it's really the last thing that happens in the book. The rest is filler.
We rehash the exact same scene several times-- once from a different sister's point of view-- and then there are slapdash characterizations of the literally 11 other sisters. Things that, if they were relevant at all, really should have been mentioned earlier. But... they aren't really relevant to anything. And the 1920s stuff mostly fades, and the dialog sounds a bit like someone trying to work in as many googled phrases of 1920s slang as possible. (Sidenote: I have been guilty of this, too.)
You can read this Jazz Age take on "The Twelve Dancing Princesses" without first reading the Grimm story, if you like, but you will miss some of its sparkling pleasures. Genevieve Valentine has recast the timeless tale of a king whose twelve daughters spirit themselves out of the castle every night to dance until their soles wear away. In this novel, the girls are captives of their father, a heartless business mogul whose wife died after failing to produce an heir.
The eldest daughter, Jo, falls in love with dance when she sees a waltz during a rare birthday outing to the opera. A few years later, having amassed dance steps during furtive forays to movies (and lessons from young housemaids), she begins to organize nightly visits to dance halls, including the Kingfisher. Men call the girls Princesses for their unusual finery (cobbled from catalogs) and their resolute anonymity.
Sister Lou loves the waltz, Ella the foxtrot; Doris lives for the Charleston and Shakespeare. Each sister has her own story, her own dreams. Jo, as "the General," holds herself aloof to protect, organize, scheme, and rue her one dip into love.
In one unforgettable scene, the girls are arrayed on a staircase like debutantes in a Hollywood tableau, hungry to dance, in feathers and beads and gowns of mauve, spangled silver, and orchid. The music begins, and the girls give themselves, body and soul, to the glittering, whirling world of the speakeasy.
The evil mogul's plans for these free spirits are far more fearsome than a police raid. Will the girls escape a life of genteel imprisonment? Will there be princes? You will want to know.
As I read, rapt, I pondered the sub-genre of fairy tales, retold. Although its roots are deep in Grimm, I thought, its spirit is as modern as The Great Gatsby. Was I reminded of Gatsby by the shared Jazz Age setting? Partly, but also because the Kingfisher Club echoed Fitzgerald's use of another archetypal tale, "The Fisher King."
The Girls at the Kingfisher Club is a vivid, immediate, sometimes-startling novel of magical realism - without the actual magic of fairy tales. These princesses are thoroughly modern women who have enough spirit to rescue themselves. Highly recommended.
I received this novel from NetGalley. This is an honest review.
I’ve been meaning to read this for ages — I love the idea of a retelling of the Twelve Dancing Princesses set in the world of Manhattan during prohibition. It just sounded fascinating: how could it be transformed, how would it play out? The answer is: fairly loosely. That’s not a criticism — I think sticking too rigidly to the story would have killed this book. Instead of sticking to a particular version, it makes its own, with other fairytale elements coming in: the wicked father, the dead mother, the twelve unwanted and unseen daughters, it’s all the stuff of fables. I think the transformation worked really well.
On the level of the characters and plot apart from the retelling — which can sometimes be enjoyable just for its own sake — I loved the way it picks out a few of the girls and makes them distinct, different, disparate people all trapped together. Most of it is limited to Jo’s point of view: she’s the older sister, and she’s used to making sacrifices for the others, and to her sisters regarding her as the unbending ‘General’, rather than a feeling person. This is done really well, especially in the section after they escape: Jo has to learn how to deal with life without having eleven other people to think of, and she doesn’t know what to do — without them relying on her, who is she?
Overall, I enjoyed it a lot; I think the only thing that would’ve made it better was maybe more time with some of the other sisters, even if it was only the more clearly drawn ones like Lou, Doris and Ella. That would have given a different and closer perspective on the girls, been a way to get to know them in other ways. Nonetheless, it makes sense that there wasn’t space for it — and I wouldn’t want this book to get bloated, since I thought it was perfectly paced.