Fairest

Review by Booklist Review

Gr. 7-10. Larger than most humans in Ayortha, 15-year-old Aza feels like an ugly ox . . . a blemish. But in a kingdom devoted to song, Aza's voice is more beautiful and powerful than most; she can mimic any voice and throw the sound. At the king's wedding, Aza is blackmailed by the new queen, a poor singer, into a Cyrano de Bergerac arrangement: when the queen sings in public, Aza secretly provides the sound. As the queen's treachery deepens, Aza is astonished when the handsome prince initiates a friendship. In subtle details, Levine slowly reveals that the roots of the richly imagined story are cleverly tangled in the fairy tale Sleeping Beauty. The telling, in Aza's voice, is sophisticated, and readers may initially feel like foreign travelers who lack cultural context. But once connections become clear, they'll sink into the fairy-tale romance, the remarkable characters, and the wild, magical adventures. They will also recognize the questions about self-image and moral choices and experience the vicarious, heart-pounding thrill when Aza discovers love and confidence: I strode away, feeling a thousand feet tall, and glad to be for the first time in my life. Kisses were better than potions. For a slightly older audience than Levine's Ella Enchanted (1997), this book makes a natural partner to Donna Jo Napoli's fractured fairy-tale novels, such as Beast (2000). --Gillian Engberg Copyright 2006 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Levine's enchanting, intelligent fairy tale, set in a kingdom devoted to singing, lends itself well to full-cast production; this one features 32 voices. Composer Todd Hobin has set Levine's lyrics to music; Naughton does a terrific job as maid Aza, the narrator, a demanding role that requires near-operatic talents. Homely Aza, abandoned at birth, not only sings like a lark, she can throw her voice and mimic others, a skill she calls illusing. In a chance meeting, the treacherous new queen, whose abrasive voice has a Valley Girlesque quality, discovers Aza's talent and blackmails the girl into secretly providing her voice for all of the queen's public singing. Additional background music augments the many perilous predicaments Aza finds herself in, as well as providing a backdrop to the fairy-tale romance that develops between her and Prince Ijori. This is a rare case: the book itself is superb, but the audio production surpasses it. Ages 10-up. (Reviews, July 24, 2006.) (Dec.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 7 Up-Aza is abandoned at an inn, and she is adopted into a caring family. Her voice is her special gift; she learns how to throw her voice and mimic others. Her curse is her appearance, which is so ugly that patrons are offended and offensive. Circumstances place Aza at the castle, where the new queen discovers Aza's talents. She blackmails Aza into becoming her voice at monthly castle sings. Plot twists include the magic mirror, an injured king, and a prince who finds Aza interesting. When the queen screams while she's supposedly singing, Aza's blamed. She uses the mirror to fulfill her desire for beauty but then is sent to prison, escaping with a guard who is supposed to kill her. She saves them both from ogres and finds her way to a cave of caring gnomes. The queen uses her magic mirror to disguise herself as a gnome and sell Aza the poisoned apple. The happily-ever-after ending varies from the fairy tale, with a most satisfactory conclusion. Soneela Nankani narrates, giving different voices to the main characters; the songs are spoken as poetry. While she's an excellent narrator, the pacing is a bit slow, especially the long pauses at chapter breaks. VERDICT Only libraries with high circulation of reimagined fairy tales should consider. ["Readers will enjoy the fairy-tale setting while identifying with the real-life problems of living in an appearance-obsessed society. A distinguished addition to any collection": SLJ 9/06 review of the HarperCollins book.]-Deb Whitbeck, formerly with West Ottawa Public Schools, Holland, MI © Copyright 2016. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Horn Book Review

This companion to Ella Enchanted focuses on homely, oversize commoner Aza. Aza's beautiful singing and her ability to throw her voice lead her to become a pawn of the queen. Levine has again depicted a fully realized fairy-tale land peopled with intriguing characters engaged in political machinations. Some details that echo ""Snow White"" will entertain readers. (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

A musical maid with a love for gnomes discovers there's more to life than being pretty. Abandoned at the Featherbed Inn in the kingdom of Ayortha, Aza was raised lovingly by the innkeeper and his wife. In Ayortha beauty and singing are prized above everything. Aza's voice is the "finest," but her "htun" hair and large physique mark her as ugly. She longs to be pretty. Fate takes Aza to Ontio Castle, where her voice charms everyone including Prince Ijori. Aza quickly becomes embroiled in castle intrigue when the king is injured and his scheming bride, Ivi, blackmails Aza into "illusing" her voice to make it seem that Ivi can sing. With Ayortha verging on rebellion, Aza realizes Ivi's magical mirror will transform her into the fairest of all, but at a terrible price. Fans of Ella Enchanted (1997) will find Aza a kind-hearted, spirited heroine who uses her wit and voice to rescue the kingdom and who learns the hard way that beauty isn't everything. A song-filled, fast-paced fairy tale. (Fantasy. 8-12) Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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Fairest Chapter One I was born singing. Most babies cry. I sang an aria. Or so I believe. I have no one to tell me the truth of it. I was abandoned when I was a month old, left at the Featherbed Inn in the Ayorthaian village of Amonta. It was January 12th of the year of Thunder Songs. The wench who brought me to the inn paid for our chamber in advance and smuggled me in unseen. The next morning she smuggled herself out, leaving me behind. I know what happened next. Father and Mother--the innkeeper and his wife--have retold the tale on the anniversary of my arrival since I grew old enough to understand the words. "You were left in the Lark chamber," Mother would say. "It was the right room for you, my songbird." "It was a chill morning," Father would chime in. "Soon you were howling." His shoulders would shake with laughter. "I thought you were Imilli." We would all smile--my younger sister Areida, my two older brothers, Mother, and I. Imilli was our cat--kitten then. Mother would burst in. "I knew straight off you were a babe. I knew you were a singer, too." She'd sing, "It was all in your lovely howl." We'd laugh at that. She'd shake her head. "No. Truly. It was lovely." My favorite part would come next. Mother would throw back her head and imitate my howl, a high pure note. Ayortha is a kingdom of singers. In our family and in Amonta, my voice is the finest. Mother often said that if I tried, I could sing the sun down from the sky. "I opened the chamber door," Father would say, continuing the tale, "and there you were." I was in the center of the bed, crying and kicking the air. "I picked you up," Mother would say, "and you gurgled such a musical gurgle." My brother Ollo would break in with his favorite part. "Your bottom was wet." Areida would giggle. Father and Mother would never mention that the blanket I had arrived in was velvet, edged with gold thread. The story would go on. Mother carried me into the Sparrow room, where my brothers slept. Father headed for the attic to find Ollo's old cradle. When he came down, I was lying on Ollo's small bed while Ollo, who was two years old then, gently poked my cheek. No one has told me what happened next, but I know. I can imagine the sight I was. Yarry, who was five, would have spoken his mind, as he does to this day. He would have said, in a tone of wonder, "She's so ugly." Then--they have told me this--he said, "Can we keep her, Father?" Father and Mother did, and named me Aza, which means lark in Ayorthaian. They treated me no differently from their own children, and taught me to read music and songs from our treasured leather songbook, kept on its own high table in the entry parlor. I was an unsightly child. My skin was the weak blue-white of skimmed milk, which wouldn't have been so bad if my hair had been blond and my lips pale pink. But my lips were as red as a dragon's tongue and my hair as black as an old frying pan. Mother always denied that I was ugly. She said that looking different wasn't the same as looking amiss, and she called me her one-of-a-kind girl. Still, she promised I'd grow prettier as I grew older. I remember asking her a dozen times a day if I was prettier yet. She would stop whatever she was doing--cleaning a guest's chamber or bathing Areida--and consider me. Then she'd sing, "I think so." But soon after, one of the inn's guests would stare, and I'd know the transformation hadn't really taken place. If anything, I became uglier. I grew large boned and awkward. My chubby cheeks were fine for a babe, but not for an older child. I resembled a snow maid, with a big sphere of a face and round button eyes. I ached to be pretty. I wished my fairy godmother would come and make me so. Mother said we all have fairy godmothers, but they rarely reveal themselves. I wished I could see mine. I was sure fairies were supremely beautiful and glorious in every way. Mother said fairy godmothers only watch from afar and sympathize. I didn't see the good of a hand-wringing fairy godmother. I needed one who'd fly in and help. With no hope for fairy intervention, I wished for a magic spell to make me pretty. At night I'd sing nonsense words to myself after Areida had fallen asleep. I thought I might stumble on the right combination of syllables and notes, but I never did. I attempted to make myself more presentable by pinning my hair up this way or that, or by tying a ribbon around my neck. Once, I sneaked into Father's workshop and smeared wood stain on my face and arms. The results were streaky brown skin and a rash that lasted a month. The inn's guests were sometimes friendly, but more often they were rude. As bad as the ones who stared were the ones who looked away in embarrassment. Some guests didn't want me to serve their food, and some didn't want me to clean their rooms. We Ayorthaians are sensitive to beauty, more sensitive than the subjects in other kingdoms, I think. We love a fine voice especially, but we also admire a rosy sunset, a sweet scent, a fetching face. And when we're not pleased, we're displeased. I developed the habit of holding my hand in front of my face when guests arrived, a foolish practice, because it raised curiosity and concealed little. Mother and Father mostly gave me chores that kept me out of sight, helping the laundress or washing dishes. They did so to protect me. But it was common sense, too. I was bad for business. Fairest . Copyright © by Gail Levine. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Fairest by Gail Carson Levine, Gail C. Levine All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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