Tuesday, 8 May 2018

Book Review - 'The House with Chicken Legs' by Sophie Anderson

2023 EDIT: Part of my 2023 clear-up, of books I no longer like, or am no longer interested in, or remember well as standing out, or find as special anymore, or I otherwise will not miss.

Final Score: 3.5/5





Original Review:



Utterly charming and creative, a little sweet and sad, with one of the most complex and realistic child protagonists I've read about in a long time.

One needs a little whimsy in life.

When I first heard about 'The House with Chicken Legs' by debut author Sophie Anderson, I was suspicious of all the 5-star reviews it was getting, before it was published. Despite the premise sounding right up my Diagon Alley - Baba Yaga is a fairy tale figure who seriously needs more attention - I ignored it.

Until recently, out of the blue, I saw all those copies in my local bookshop. Then I rethought: Hey, it is a Baba Yaga reimagining, and I was sorely in the mood for light children's fantasy after being disappointed by one book after another all throughout this mediocre year (dear lord I hope 'The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo' doesn't turn out to be a fluke), so here we are.

'The House with Chicken Legs' is an emotional ride. One emotion drifting back and forth, changing into another, in a space of a few pages, sometimes less. I would love the main character, the twelve-year-old granddaughter of Baba Yaga, Marinka, then hate her the next page, then come to understand her all over again. This girl is incredibly selfish, inconsiderate, and irresponsible, but given her circumstances the reader knows why. She is a girl wanting to feel alive, to be among living people, to make friends (something she constantly goes on about at the beginning of the book); she desperately wants a life outside of her grandmother's house with chicken legs, which gets up and runs to a different location whenever fancy takes it, and the dead people Baba Yaga guides every night into The Gate: the stars, the Milky Way, the universe of meteors, never to be seen again.

Never able to stay in one place for long, Marinka's life is lonely, even with her beloved Baba and her faithful jackdaw Jack, who like her is stubborn as bones and stone. And with her house, which has a life of its own and is bonded to its Guardian, its Yaga. Very 'Howl's Moving Castle', but sentient and more playful and sensitive.

Marinka keeps making one devastating mistake after another, endangering those who love her every step of the way, leading to terrible consequences. She does learn and grow better as a result, whilst still being a confused, uncertain child. There are life lessons sprinkled in this, for children's literature, about fitting in, peer pressure, disappointed life expectations, feeling alone even when with others, how "normal" is overrated, and appreciating the time you have with the people you love, while you can.

I love the worldbuilding. There are thousands of Yagas in this world, who can live up to thousands of years, in their own houses with chicken legs, as they welcome, care for and guide the dead every night. This keeps the cycle of life and the universe in balance. It can be a lonely existence, what with only dead people for company who leave the same night they come, as the Yagas share in their memories and hopes, dreams, love, and regrets in life - what they cannot have themselves. But with a simple touch, Sophie Anderson manages to make the role of a Yaga seem whimsy, warm and exciting. There is a magical charm throughout. I wanted to live in a house with chicken legs as I read this! The scene where the Yagas come together - travelling by house - for a ceremony and party is delightful. Every single one of them is so nice, even Marinka appreciates this.

Yes, even Baba Yaga herself is the sweetest, most caring grandmother you could wish for. Still old with crooked teeth, but is all energy for dancing, singing, playing the balalaika, and for having fun with the dead before they depart (plus for telling stories to the orphaned Marinka, whilst reassuring her of her "destiny" as the next Yaga and Guardian). It is explained that the reason for the legend of her as a cruel, cunning witch is because the few living people who do somehow get near her house are afraid of her and her mysterious life. They fear appearances, suspect her link with death, and so they make up scary stories about her. People being afraid of what they don't understand is a major theme in 'The House with Chicken Legs'.

At first I was iffy on the idea of the fearsome and morally-gray Baba Yaga being changed into the exact opposite of how she's always been interpreted, but it worked out well. Never be so quick to judge and jump to conclusions. I'd wanted to read something nice and sweet anyway, as I had grown sick of cynicism and violence and brutality. The world and mainstream stories have enough of that already!

So, this was a treat. It is like the book version of Pixar's 'Coco'; it contains themes dealing with death, grief and family. And playing music.

I wasn't quite sold on the friendship theme, however. Without giving much away, I don't like how Marinka's female friendships all end in tragedy, or at least they were portrayed as negative, whilst her male friendships are far more positive; there's a tiny hint of a romance on the horizon (ugh! why, in a story this original, is that cliché here?). There is another old Yaga whom Malinka ends up befriending in a mentor/student role, and one young Yaga her own age at a party who appears briefly for a few pages, but that's it. The ending I think is quite underwhelming too.

But as the little book says, life is full of a universe of possibilities. Marinka does get to decide her own destiny, whilst waiting patiently for new interests and roles to come to her, as she is young and full of potential, like all children.

Finally, a genuinely good modern children's fantasy fairy tale in 2017-2018. Try 'The House with Chicken Legs', if only for the title and gorgeous UK cover. It's short, but brimming with life and fun, even with the sadness that comes with death. Russian phrases for drinks, food, musical instruments and things are used throughout as well, for authenticity.

Final Score: 3.5/5

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