From master storyteller Kate DiCamillo comes an original fairy tale--with enchanting illustrations by Julie Morstad--in which five puppets confront circumstances beyond their control with patience, cunning, and high spirits.
Shut up in a trunk by a taciturn old sea captain with a secret, five friends--a king, a wolf, a girl, a boy, and an owl--bicker, boast, and comfort one another in the dark. Individually, they dream of song and light, freedom and flight, purpose and glory, but they all agree they are part of a larger story, bound each to each by chance, bonded by the heart's mysteries. When at last their shared fate arrives, landing them on a mantel in a blue room in the home of two little girls, the truth is more astonishing than any of them could have imagined. A beloved author of modern classics draws on her most moving themes with humor, heart, and wisdom in the first of the Norendy Tales, a projected trio of novellas linked by place and mood, each illustrated in black and white by a different virtuoso illustrator. A magical and beautifully packaged gift volume designed to be read aloud and shared, The Puppets of Spelhorst is a tale that soothes and strengthens us on our journey, leading us through whatever dark forest we find ourselves in.
Kate DiCamillo, the newly named National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature for 2014–2015, says about stories, “When we read together, we connect. Together, we see the world. Together, we see one another.” Born in Philadelphia, the author lives in Minneapolis, where she faithfully writes two pages a day, five days a week.
Kate DiCamillo's own journey is something of a dream come true. After moving to Minnesota from Florida in her twenties, homesickness and a bitter winter helped inspire Because of Winn-Dixie - her first published novel, which, remarkably, became a runaway bestseller and snapped up a Newbery Honor. "After the Newbery committee called me, I spent the whole day walking into walls," she says. "I was stunned. And very, very happy."
Her second novel, The Tiger Rising, went on to become a National Book Award Finalist. Since then, the master storyteller has written for a wide range of ages, including two comical early-chapter-book series - Mercy Watson, which stars a "porcine wonder" with an obsession for buttered toast, and Bink & Gollie, which celebrates the tall and short of a marvelous friendship - as well as a luminous holiday picture book, Great Joy.
Her latest novel, Flora & Ulysses: The Illuminated Adventures, won the 2014 Newbery Medal. It was released in fall 2013 to great acclaim, including five starred reviews, and was an instant New York Times bestseller. Flora & Ulysses is a laugh-out-loud story filled with eccentric, endearing characters and featuring an exciting new format - a novel interspersed with comic-style graphic sequences and full-page illustrations, all rendered in black and white by up-and-coming artist K. G. Campbell. It was a 2013 Parents' Choice Gold Award Winner and was chosen by Amazon, Publishers Weekly, Kirkus Reviews, and Common Sense Media as a Best Book of the Year.
I’m no story theorist. I can quote the rudimentary ideas that the pros like to bandy about, but I’ve never made a serious study of their rules and regulations (The Secrets of Story being the sole exception, naturally). Still, there are a couple ideas I’ve picked up over the years that make sense to me. For example, let’s consider the idea of the “passive protagonist”. This would be a character that can't or won’t do anything to change their circumstances. It’s supposed to be a bad thing. The ultimate withering insult to a writer. “Oh. Your main character? They’re a little . . . passive, wouldn’t you say?” The horror. And yet, consider how many children’s books feature toys or puppets that cannot move. Sure, the bulk of stories tend to go the Pinocchio/ Mouse and His Child route and allow their characters a bit of impetus and movement, and why not? Quite frankly that’s the easier story to write. But Kate DiCamillo has never been a particular fan of doing things the easy way. That’s why her latest story The Puppets of Spelhorst is so utterly fascinating. After reading it, I’ve had to rethink my entire “passive protagonist” theory as it relates to stories of children’s toys. But much more importantly, this is the kind of book that’s going to appeal to kids young and old. A contemporary classic with ingrained appeal and the occasional jolt of weirdness to keep things interesting.
Five puppets hang in the window of a toy shop: An owl, a boy, a girl, a king, and wolf. One day, an old sailor named Spelhorst buys them, if only because he’s entranced by the girl puppet’s eyes. When he dies, the puppets are taken from place to place, only to ultimately end up in the possession of two young girls. While each puppet has his or her own dreams about what they’d like to accomplish in life, they know they must stick together. Only through great trials, separation, reunification, and the power of storytelling itself, do they come to realize their true purpose.
I like watching Kate DiCamillo grow and change as a writer. I don’t know why, but no other author seems to exhibit such an interesting trajectory. She comes out of the gate with Because of Winn-Dixie (strong start), wins herself some awards, and then shifts a little. She writes younger ( Mercy Watson) and older but ultimately writes what she wants to, not what she has to. Her choices are not obvious. She might co-write a book about best friends one moment and then do a three book series of three friends in Florida the next. Then a superpowered squirrel. Then a malicious goat. With The Puppets of Spelhorst she’s written a shorter story. Just a scant 160 pages, and with all the trappings of a bedtime tale. The focus starts with an old man, fixates on the puppets, occasionally breaks free to get the thoughts and opinions of other humans, but ultimately stays with the toys in the end. This may sound hectic, but DiCamillo’s a sure hand. You are never confused about who is speaking at any given moment. All told, in spite of a harrowing separation halfway through the book, I found this a comforting story. Friends are separated, but they come together again. A story is told, and everyone gets a part.
All that I’ve written here is true, but none of it explains how DiCamillo makes this book work. You see, this isn’t the first time she’s had a passive protagonist before. Years and years ago she wrote a book called The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane about a china rabbit toy. And at the time of its, I was not a particular fan. There was something about that strong undercurrent of cruelty that ran through both it and her Newbery winning Despereaux that felt wrong. But on top of that, there was the fact that while horrible thing after horrible thing happens to Edward (and no one’s life is much better after having met him) he can do nothing to change his circumstances. His attitude, sure. But his circumstances? Not at all. Interestingly, this deep and abiding frustration I’d felt with that book never came up at all with Puppets. Why is that? I’ve pondered this for a long time, and at last I came to the conclusion that I was wrong about my criticism of Tulane all those years ago. My reaction to it was never, honestly, based on the fact that he was a “passive protagonist”. Not really. If that had been my issue then I would have had the same problem with Puppets. No, like this book, Tulane showed how a protagonist’s interior life can be as interesting as their physical one. The difference, I think, is in how each book depicts the cruelty of the world. In Tulane actions happen without meaning. A fry cook might destroy your main character’s head for literally no reason at all. But in Puppets, when cruelty happens it’s never malicious. If it happens it happens because characters are wrapped up in their own lives and cannot consider the effects their actions might have on others. So when I read this book, I can see myself in both the heroes and the villains. In Tulane I never had that chance.
Another reason I enjoyed this book particularly came when I realized that in Tulane the main character is utterly alone in the world. In Puppets the main characters rely upon one another. Each has his or her own adventure (except for the King, but you really aren’t all that upset on his account). They don’t always appreciate what anyone else has to say at first, but as the book continues you realize that they rely upon one another. Plus, their thoughts are given the chance to sometimes be internal and sometimes shared with others. Was this the reason why I enjoyed this book as much as I did?
Maybe. But not entirely.
Turns out, the true reason came only at the book’s very end.
You see, I’d walked into this book truly believing (probably because of the title) that the heroes of this book were, in fact, the titular puppets of Spelhorst. But they’re not, are they? Not really. They’re great characters and you care for them. Therefore, they are most certainly the protagonists of the text. But are they the heroes? I liked very much the interior journey each character took (even the king, to some extent) and that made them folks I rooted for. However, the true hero of this tale is only revealed at the story’s end and, like the puppets, once you realize who it is, you too would follow that person to the ends of the earth. Once I shifted my thinking and realized this, the entire book’s success fell into place. For the puppets, each one of them has dreams and hopes, however, fabulous or outlandish. And through fabulous and occasionally outlandish means, they fulfill their destinies. But the hero of this tale can’t fulfill their dreams within the confines of this particular story. And so the tale ends with them setting off to see the world, the way they wanted to. It’s so oddly satisfying. I hope kids see it the same way.
Now I would like to request, quite swiftly, that someone go on and set the three songs we see in this book to music, stat. Nothing ever happens quickly in the art world, but things are capable of happening very quickly on social media. So if one of those nice musically-inclined young people who grew up with DiCamillo’s books when they were little could heed my call and please make tunes to accompany her words, I’d be much obliged.
I do feel a bit bad that I haven’t mentioned artist Julie Morstad until this moment. I first encountered Morstad’s art years ago when I found her illustrating a Robert Louis Stevenson poem called The Swing in board book form. Instantly I was charmed, and I’ve faithfully followed the trajectory of her career in children’s literature ever since. Her pairing with DiCamillo reminds me of when DiCamillo was paired with Sophie Blackall for The Beatryce Prophecy. Critics like myself were left just thinking, “Well, duh. Haven’t they worked together before?” They have not. Certainly DiCamillo has never done anything at all with Morstad in the past, but linking the two together is mild genius. Morstad’s art is subdued but not emotionless. Her puppets in this book look out onto the world blankly, but you can sense, just looking at them, their interior lives. When humans make their appearance on the page (as humans are, sadly, wont to do) there’s an almost Edward Gorey-esque quality to their detachment. You feel for them… but honestly you feel for the puppets more. (Additional Note: If we do not see a Kate DiCamillo/Jon Klassed at some point in the next five years I shall think it a very great mistake on the part of the publishers. I mean, the obvious pattern here is Blackall to Morstad to Klassen. Debate me if you will).
There’s so much more to talk about with this book. The role of the girls who play with the puppets and how their very different impressions of them cause great changes. The role of the maid Jane Twiddum and what she wants. Heck, there’s a whole undercurrent of feminism and the roles puppets and living women play within society, but I suppose I’ll save that for someone else’s thesis. The important thing to understand is that this is a story where it doesn’t matter how physically passive you are. Your interior life, your hopes and dreams and goals, that’s the thing that matters. That’s what’s going to make you into an active protagonist in the end, regardless of whether or not you have the ability to move. The Puppets of Spelhorst taught me that. Now imagine what it could teach your own children.
Another beautiful and heartfelt story from a writer who has been a favorite since I was a child.
I can’t express the excitement and joy I felt when I saw this book at The Strand bookstore yesterday. Naturally, I had to read it immediately. I am forever grateful for Kate DiCamillo and her miraculous words!
Kate DiCamillo is a genius storyteller. The Puppets of Spelhorst starts out a little dark and I wasn’t sure where it was going, which is quite purposeful on DiCamillo’s part. One of the characters even says, “It’s a dark and terrible mystery” several times throughout the book, acknowledging what the reader might be feeling. Knowing DiCamillo’s writing though, I read on, knowing that she would not leave us in the darkness. The ending pulls all of the pieces together beautifully and just like many of her books, left me in tears. One of the puppets says of songs that they can break your heart and also heal it. That’s what this story does. Breaks your heart (in the best way), but then wraps it up in beauty and hope in the end. Kate DiCamillo’s writing is a gift to the world of children’s literature and to any adults who are brave enough to read it.
What it must be like to be DiCamillo and carry around enough heart to share with so many characters in so many worlds. The longing for big adventures achieved in small and significant bursts by these little puppets showcases the joy we humans can stumble into on a daily basis. Also it must be said, the wolf has very sharp teeth. 🐺
1-24: The second time around I read the ebook after listening the first time. I can confirm that the illustrations deliver an added layer of excellence and emotion to this lovely story.
Popsugar24: #27 - A book where someone dies in the first chapter
This was so cute! It felt like an older fairy tale and I thought it was so unique and told in a cool way. I liked how the puppets had personalities and desires and how they all were played out. The illustrations were really good as well. I liked it!
Once, there was a king And a wolf And a girl with a shepherd’s crook. And a boy with arrows and a bow. And also, there was an owl. The king had a beard made of human hair.
The wolf’s teeth were bared in a snarl. The girl wore a green cloak. The arrows in the boy’s quiver were Sharp enough to prick a finger. As for the owl, his feathers were real.
This is a story that will likely appeal to all ages, although it is a story that tends to have a slightly darker side, it is not a dark story. It is, at the heart, a story of hope.
As with all of her stories that I’ve read, she writes a story that is aimed at children, but can be appreciated by adults, as well. The illustrations by Julie Morstad add so much charm to the story,
This is a story of lessons learned, of having the courage to do the things that seem hard to do, but also the potential for dreams that might come true.
As always, the illustrations add an additional charm to the story, which reminded me a bit of the My Book House books that I’ve had since I was around three years old.
Many thanks to the Public Library for the loan of this book!
A book to be be read aloud! Made me miss my nightly stories with the boys. This is one they would have loved! I’ll leave it in their teenager room and hope they give it a go!
It's Kate DiCamillo, so of course the writing is strong, and I appreciated the adult themes woven in, but I didn't feel like the story would be particularly appealing to kids. If you think about the plot, not much really happens.
Kate DiCamillo is very hit or miss for me. Sometimes I think she's trying to tell a delightful story & then she'll sneak an agenda & I'm put off. I like to relax into Story for Story's Sake. A tale can have a message attached to it, sure. How can any story not? Everyone has a worldview. There is no neutrality. However, one can spend their whole time using a story as a vessel to promote that worldview instead of the other way around. It's those sorts I object to.
This is a book about five puppets who do not seem to have much of a purpose. The girl, boy, king, owl & wolf are all kept together in a shop before being purchased by an old sea captain who uses them to process his life's grief before dying. After his death, the puppets make their way to two girls who use them to give a puppet show that is to be packed with meaning. It's a sweet idea & quite appealing.
But what is the book's ultimate meaning?
One of the puppets is an owl who makes pithy statements, most of which pack a punch & threaten a moral. There is a maid in the house named Jane who sings songs about how the world is full of nonsense & also how she intends to make her own way into it. The girl puppet learns songs to break hearts & heal them. The king is introspective.
Each of the characters has something interesting to say & each time DiCamilla shared an idea, I wondered if that would ultimately be the point. This is a short book. It seems to me she should either focus on ONE of her many messages or should have made everything longer to flesh out her various ideas. Instead, she fails to land anywhere at all.
The book can best be summarized by one quote:
"Who are we to say what the point is?" said the owl. "Who are we?"
My answer: We are humans, rational thinkers (mostly), image bearers, seekers & defenders of truth.
According to DiCamillo, we're a series of floating emotions, unwilling to come to conclusions. I thought this book had great potential, but I ultimately found it to be unsettling.
Truth exists. We can stand upon it. The trouble with DiCamillo is that she doesn't seem to know it.
This felt very much like a children's book from the 1940s with Deeper Meaning. Glimmers of Rumer Godden's doll books, or maybe Field's 1929 Hitty: Her First Hundred Years. There's a lot of philosophy, and dreamy introspection, as well as some odd coincidences (the boy doll gets carried away by a bird and ends up in a tree close enough to find, and Emma and Marth are able to retrieve the wolf puppet from actual wolves). Certainly very lyrical, and the illustrations are lovely. I will probably not purchase for my middle school collection, since I don't see my students picking this up.
Only Kate DiCamillo can write a story about toys—who inherently have no agency and are only ever acted upon by the people around them—and give them a fully formed, meaningful, dare I say profound, story. I read this book in an hour and it was an hour very well spent. This would make a beautiful read-aloud, and I can’t wait to read it with my kids!
Een wijs, poëtisch en grappig verhaal over een oude zeeman, die een bijzondere verzameling poppenkastpoppen koopt. De ogen van het poppenmeisje doen hem denken aan een verloren liefde. Na zijn dood komen de poppen van Spelhorst in het poppenkastspel van twee meisjes terecht. Een heel prettig en eigenaardig verhaal over de vraag die we ons als mensen allemaal stellen: 'In welk verhaal zitten wij? En hoe zal het met ons verder gaan?' De mooie blauwe potloodtekeningen zijn gemaakt door Julie Morstad. Uitgegeven bij Lannoo, in vertaling van Harry Pallemans, vanaf 9+ jaar.
Read aloud to my 10 and 7 year olds. I really love how many short books Kate Dicamillo has given us, books that are just begging to be read aloud. This little novel is full of illustrations, and the short chapters had my kids begging for "just one more" every time we read.
This story is very different; initially I found myself asking, "who are the main characters?" The old man (no, he dies)...the puppets (well, they can't move or influence the story at all)...the little girls (they show up later). But I also felt it didn't matter WHO this story was about. From the get-go it was a story that swept us away simply because of how it was written. It was one of those books that makes the listener lean in and stills the body. More than once I found my kids so fully absorbed that they had stopped their quiet puzzling or coloring and were just staring into space, listening as I read.
In the end we were left wondering about a few things (one child even said how they wanted a certain thing to be different), so we talked about what it means for a story to be bittersweet. This was exactly that kind of book. It was beautiful and lovely and left us longing for more; the bittersweet is ultimately the most reflective of reality because we are all longing for something more...for a perfect home, for mending and forgiveness and restoration.
Someone recommended this during fall book fair at the school, so I wanted to read it, but I actually didn’t really love it. It felt like one of those books that was supposed to have a deeper meaning or symbolism and I just didn’t ever get it. It didn’t feel that profound.
I was utterly charmed by the innocence and naivete of the 5 puppets… the King, the Wolf, the Boy, the Girl and the Owl. The story was enhanced by one of the most perfect narrations I have ever listened to.
Audiobook Allan Corduner – Narrator Duration: 01:39:29
I picked this up because I love Kate DiCamillo, and it didn’t disappoint. Love her imagination and her magical, humorous writing style. This one reminded me a great deal of “The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane.” Would be a great read-aloud for kids, but every bit as enjoyable for adults.
I adore Kate DiCamillo and her words with every ounce of my being, and as always, she delivers another story of magic and heart. We as readers are so lucky to have her.
This book is brilliant, thought provoking, and has had me in a contemplative mood all day. It is a short read. And it is without a doubt one of the best pieces of literary theory and criticism on the best ways one can do passive characters, and the ways passive characters can have impact and be fleshed out and good that I have read in a while. So why only four stars? Well, I've come to expect that I will cry when I read Kate DiCamillo's books, and this one definitely has elements in it that should have made a stronger impact on me than they did. Perhaps it was that I was more interested in the metanarrative nature of this fairytale, but I wish I'd felt more than just contemplative after reading the book. Perhaps contemplative is the correct response to this book. I just hoped I'd feel more. I usually do during and after reading one of her books.
An old sea captain purchases five puppets from a shop window (a king, an owl, a girl, a boy, and a wolf), propelling them on an adventure to find their purpose. Each puppet has their own dreams and desires. The king wishes to hear beautiful music and respected. The wolf wants to bite and chase. The boy dreams of accomplishing some great deed. The girl longs for beauty under the moonlit sky. The owl advises them with wise words. When the puppets become the property of two little girls, they think they will find their purpose in acting out a story with the children, but the obstacles they face are greater than they can ever imagine.
I loved this beautiful story! The characters are delightfully thoughtful and introspective as they try to discover their purpose. Each character's personality is so different, and they grow in different ways. I really loved that all the puppets stick together and encourage one another through their difficulties, and when they triumph they celebrate together as well. There is a strong loyalty between them that is quite charming!
The story is told with a lovely old-fashioned style that is quite elegant in its brevity. Every word fits exactly where it should, and no words are wasted. The result is a powerful writing style that tugs at your emotions!
I loved the pretty illustrations through the book which really bring forward the emotional pathos of the story. The artwork makes this story truly special! This chapter book is perfect for young readers ages 7-10 who are reading on their own, but not ready for lengthy books yet.
Disclaimer: I received this book from the publisher in exchange for a free and honest review.
Five puppets in a trunk. An echo of Edward Tulane. Wisps of memories of the lovely picture book Tub People by Pam Conrad. And Kate DiCamillo pulling the strings. Not much more you could ask for.
Here’s the start of Chapter Two, shortly after Spelhorst acquires the puppets:
“When it had been quiet for a long time, the king spoke. ‘Does he sleep?’ he said. ‘He sleeps,’ said the girl. ‘He thinks you’re someone named Annalise,’ said the boy. ‘It could be my name,’ said the girl puppet. ‘I’ve always wondered if I had a name.’ ‘All shall be revealed,’ said the owl, who was prone to this sort of utterance. ‘My teeth are well and truly sharp,’ said the wolf. ‘We’ve heard plenty about your teeth already,’ said the boy.”
If you aren’t enchanted by this point, maybe fairy tales aren’t for you. But if you’re smiling at the wolf and her teeth, the king and his self-conscious speech patterns, the girl and her wonder – you’re in for a delightful hour or two.
One of the things I liked about this book is that instead of saying part one or two it said act two.I also liked the way that they pot the book ,like how they made them all in a story and not like this person’s story then a another persons story. They just pot it all in one.
The Puppets of Spelhorst Author: Kate DiCamillo Illustrator: Julie Morstad Source: Library @ocl 🪄 Five beautifully made puppets are part of an estate sale, including a King, a Boy, A Girl, an Owl, and a Wolf (with sharp teeth) living together in a dark box. Purchased by a loving Uncle for his niece, she sets them on the fireplace mantle, and the puppets are so excited to fulfill their destiny. Unfortunately, they endure some misfortunes but are reunited by their young owner to perform a play about the trauma of not heeding good advice and honoring true love. Ultimately, the story is about the power of love to overcome obstacles. This charming fable reminded me of a vintage tale from a simpler time. It also reminded me of the importance of having dreams and love. What a sweet story to share with children, and It has to be good if this senior lady found it so charming. The illustrations are lovely. A good Christmas book for anyone with grands or young kids. #destiny #love #honoringDifferences #liferoles #lifepurpose #friends #ThePuppetsOfSpelhorst @kateDiCamillo @juliemorstad #sharedfate #dreams #publishedOct2023 🪄