Tag Archives: Royalty

Prophecy [Book 1 of Prophecy Series] by Ellen Oh + Author Interview

As the mother of three young girls, Ellen Oh is constantly on the lookout for good books that showcase female empowerment. She’s found a few here and there – say, The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins, The Girl of Fire and Thorns trilogy by Rae Carson, The Hero and the Crown and The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley, and maybe a few others – but to ask for characters with whom her Korean American daughters might directly identify seemed too tall an order. So the former entertainment lawyer and adjunct college professor decided to write her own: Prophecy, the first of a planned trilogy, debuts this month.

“People feared Kira,” the heart-thumping, fantastical young adult novel begins. With her yellow eyes and unprecedented fighting skills, Kira is hardly the average teenager, much less the picture of modesty and subservience befitting a court royal. Her uncle the King considers her a “freak of nature, and a terrible embarrassment to the royal family,” and yet he must rely on her warrior strength to protect his only son and royal heir.

Throughout a fantasy version of third-century Korea, demons, imps, hobgoblins, and shamans threaten the entire peninsula, falling the seven kingdoms one by one. In Kira’s home kingdom of Hansong, evil forces are moving through the ranks, possessing even once-trusted officials. The horrific events that the great ancestor, the Dragon King, prophesied are proving true: “Seven will become three. Three will become one. One will save us all.”

When and how did the idea for your Prophecy trilogy come to you? Did Kira arrive fully formed like Athena? Or did you struggle to bring her to life?
Kira and [her cousin Prince] Taejo were the easiest characters for me to write, because they did literally spring out of my head, much like Athena – I love that analogy, by the way. I like pretending I’m Zeus! The cousins arrived fully formed, with very specific details about how I wanted them to be. When the idea for Prophecy first came to me, it was about a young prince who is believed to be the hero of a legend. But as the legend progresses, his female cousin – who is also his bodyguard and a far better warrior – turns out to be the true hero. I initially wrote Prophecy from Taejo’s perspective, but he was coming out too whiny and jealous. That changed when the point of view switched over to Kira’s. That’s when the story became more alive, moved faster, and became more relatable, at least to me. Which makes sense because the story was always about Kira – I just had to let her tell it.

Besides the shift in perspective, did the story change in other ways over the various revisions?
I think, overall, the story became more emotional. As a writer, I tend to be oriented more toward action, action, action. Both my agent and editor were really good at making me pause and ask, “Yeah, but what does Kira feel when this happens, or that happens?” I always knew the “how” and “what,” but during the revision process, I had to really work on expressing Kira’s reactions, her emotions.

Besides the obvious fact of your Korean ancestry, why did you choose to set your first novel in ancient Korea? As a fantasy writer, you pretty much have unlimited freedom as to where and when.
I chose ancient Korea for two specific reasons: the first was just practical – I couldn’t find anything like a fantasy adventure story set in ancient Korea in libraries or bookstores; the second was more personal – ancient Korea was such a fascinating, turbulent time with kingdoms changing, collapsing, being taken over, dealing with amazing politics and endless intrigue. But the specific moment I realized I had to write about ancient Korea was when I read a Genghis Khan biography and came to a point in the book when the Mongols invade Korea, and the entire royal court flees to Ganghwa Island (which is at the mouth of the Han River), where the Mongols aren’t able to cross the river to get to them. The Korean leaders are out there laughing, while the poor peasants are getting raped and killed by the Mongols. And then the royals, who’ve been safe and sound in their island fortress, come back to tax the hell out of the peasants and steal all their food. All those layered dynamics between the haves and have-nots were just so visual, interesting, and ultimately inspiring to me. That was feudal society at its best – from my perspective as someone who’s interested in the history – and at its worst – from a human perspective because you really see the worst of what people in power do to their citizens. And through it all, the common peasants endure and survive. [... click here for more]

Author interview: Feature: “An Interview with Ellen Oh,” Bookslut.com, January 2013

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2013

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Filed under ...Author Interview/Profile, ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, Korean, Korean American

Equal of the Sun by Anita Amirrezvani

Equal of the Sun“Based on the life of Princess Pari Khan Khanoom” seems to be the dominant short-hand description (even on its own back cover) of Anita Amirrezvani‘s historical novel set in 16th-century Persia, now modern Iran. Some might find that description misleading, and expect this to be Princess Pari’s story, told in Pari’s voice. The narrative actually belongs to her chief eunuch and advisor, Javaher, who Amirrezvani reveals in the “Author’s Note” is one of several “invented characters.” Lest you feel deprived, don’t: Javaher makes for an excellent protagonist (especially as voiced by a perennial audible favorite, Simon Vance). He takes immediate control with the very first words – “I swear to you …” – as he declares his unwavering intention to “set down the truth about the princess.” He explains, “As Pari’s closest servant, I not only observed her actions but carried out her orders. I realized that upon my death, everything I know about her would disappear if I failed to document her story.”

Scant documentation survives about Princess Pari who was the favored daughter of Tahmasb Shah (1514-1576), the second ruler of the Safavi dynasty which reigned over one of the most significant Persian empires. In Sun, the few known major events of Pari’s royal existence are a vehicle for Javaher to share his enthralling, detail-laden experiences – and Amirrezvani makes exceptional use her fictional freedom – both inside the carefully-guarded harem and considerably beyond the palace gates.

Javaher joins Pari’s service, personally chosen by the revered, celebrated Shah. In order to prove his loyalty to the same royal court that accused and executed his father on distorted charges, Javaher has shockingly emasculated himself as a young man – much later than his fellow eunuchs who were made so in early boyhood. Javaher is determined to reclaim both his shattered family’s honor … and their former power. When the Shah dies unexpectedly without naming his chosen heir, Pari (and much of the court) knows that as his favored protegé, she is by far the best prepared, most knowing successor … if only she were not a woman. More and more, Pari’s brilliant, dangerous machinations rely on Javaher’s silence, his devotion, his intelligence, and his access to outside connections.

Because this is Javaher’s story, Sun moves beyond his royal service with intriguing subplots that include his personal quest to seek revenge on his father’s accuser, his determination to save his younger sister from their greed-driven aunt, and (with enough detail to make one blush at least a few shades of grey) his surprising romantic liaisons (birth control measures not required). Untethered by recorded facts, Amirrezvani’s fictional hero is a fascinating creation, fully aware of his Machiavellian choices, unbending in his determination to succeed: “If this book were discovered by the wrong man, I could be executed, for I have committed monstrous deeds and made mistakes that I would prefer not to reveal – although what man hasn’t?” he muses. “Man is flawed by his very nature. His ears hear only what they wish; God alone knows the absolute truth.” Amen to that.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, Iranian, Iranian American, Persian

Maya and the Turtle: A Korean Fairy Tale by Soma Han and John C. Stickler, illustrated by Soma Han

In between “Long, long ago …” and “… happily ever after,” is a story passed down from grandmother to mother to daughter, as co-author and illustrator Soma Han writes in her “Author’s Note.” That in itself is a lovely tale indeed …

The mother/daughter bond here is strong, even in death: just before Maya’s mother passes away, she shares with Maya a prophetic dream that Maya, still a child, would someday grow up to be a princess. Maya is lovingly raised by her “father [who] did everything he could to make Maya grow up happy and healthy.” Her most constant companion is a turtle she names Boke-doongi, which means ‘lucky one.’

When illness strikes Maya’s father and he can no longer work, the small family can’t pay for food, much less medicine. Maya decides that she must go to the wealthy nearby village, and offer herself to the centipede monster who comes every year seeking a victim. For her sacrifice, the villagers reward her well, enough to save her father, before she must return to “the cursed place” where she awaits death. But faithful, devoted Boke-doongi will not, of course, allow such a tragedy to happen … and so the turtle seals Maya’s fate, and her filial courage is rewarded by the Emperor of heaven and earth, who tells her, “‘You must meet my son, the Prince …’”

The husband-and-wife team create their second title together (Land of Morning Calm: Korean Culture Then and Now), drawing on Han’s Korean heritage, and Stickler’s 13 years of Korean residency. Han, who is also a painter, sculptor, and mosaic artist, credits her mother and grandmother with the original story of Maya. To the couple’s credit, their version gets a 21st-century update: almost every page has a contextual note explaining something cultural, historical, or just downright tongue-in-cheek (“Why is the Prince riding on a dinosaur? ‘They are very strong,’ the Prince says, ‘and can walk long distances without getting tired.’”); and the multi-culti angle gets celebrated with a strikingly detailed, full spread – the royal couple is indeed flanked by “people from many lands,” many colors, many cultures and backgrounds. Hope springs eternal for world peace …

Like many age-old tales (especially of the Asian variety), the bottom-line lesson is loud and clear: filial piety gets rewarded – bigtime! That used to be a great way to get kids to obey … at least it was long, long ago. But uhmm … what was I saying about 21st-century updates …??!!

Readers: Children

Published: 2012

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Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, .Fiction, Korean, Korean American

The Red Chamber by Pauline A. Chen

The 2,500-page, 18th-century classic, Dream of the Red Chamber by Cao Xueqin, is regarded as China’s most important work of fiction. Pauline A. Chen (Peiling and the Chicken-Fried Christmas, for middle-grade readers) tackles the daunting task of adapting the revered original text, and her literary bravado engenders a stunning success.

Chen chooses three women to tell the story of the prominent Jia family: controlling granddaughter-in-law Xifeng, dutiful cousin-by-marriage Baochai, and naive granddaughter Daiyu – the only Jia by blood – who enters the sprawling ancestral compound after a two-generation estrangement. Chen well realizes “[a] woman doesn’t have any choices in life” in 18th-century Beijing with her future determined by family to be a wife, concubine, or serving slave, and thus imbues these women with rich inner lives.

Verdict: Fans of historical fiction who appreciate resonant details, unexpected intrigue, and multigenerational plotting will find this work irresistible. With just the right blend of highbrow literary (Chen’s pedigree includes Harvard, Yale Law, and a Princeton PhD in Chinese literature) and guilty summer pulp, Chen just might put this 18th-century classic on 21st-century bestseller lists.

Review: “Fiction,” Library Journal, June 15, 2012

Readers: Adult

Published: 2012

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Fiction, Chinese, Chinese American, Taiwanese American

The Wooden Sword: A Jewish Tale from Afghanistan by Ann Redisch Stampler, illustrated by Carol Liddiment

“One starry night in old Kabul …” a curious shah ventures forth from his palace dressed in servant’s clothing. Wondering if his subjects are happy, he stops at the home of a poor man and his wife, who readily invite him in to share what little they have.

The poor man turns out to be a shoemaker who makes a modest living, but always trusts that God will provide enough: “‘If one path is blocked, God leads me to another, and everything turns out just as it should.’” Impressed by the man’s faith, the shah decides to test its strength, throwing one obstacle after another against the poor man’s efforts to make a living.

Arbitrarily banned from shoemaking by the shah, the poor man becomes a water carrier, a woodcutter, then even a palace guard. Each night he’s visited by the royal-in-disguise; each night he warmly shares what little he has with his anonymous guest. But when the poor man’s salary temporarily eludes him, he must figure out how he and his wife will eat … not to mention their nightly visitor. The poor man’s wise, unwavering faith soon enough teaches the questioning shah that indeed “‘everything will turn out just as it should.’”

Described as a “passionate proponent of folklore for children” in her bio, Ann Redisch Stampler’s “Author’s Note” at book’s end offers an illuminating look at the origins of this Afghan Jewish tale. Because Stampler grew up with a “mean-spirited European” version, she was thrilled to discover this “beautiful” Afghan retelling.

In spite of today’s violent, uncertain climate in Afghanistan, Stampler’s adaptation is evidence of a time of “intermingling of Jewish and Muslim neighbors in Afghanistan through the centuries.” Her story reminds us that with wisdom and faith – regardless of religious origins, rules, regulations – such peace might someday return once again, with the Kabul night skies lit up with nothing more than shining stars …

Tidbit: As was pointed out to me (rather vehemently) by an Afghan American professor/scholar/author friend, “Afghani” is the name of the official currency of Afghanistan. When referring to people, by noun or adjective, the correct term is “Afghan.” Alas, that would mean “Afghani” is used incorrectly on the inside book cover and the ending “Author’s Note” … so hopefully this inspiring Afghan Jewish shah’s tale will merit a second printing sooner than later!

Readers: Children

Published: 2012

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Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, .Fiction, Afghan, Jewish

Princess Knight (vols. 1-2) by Osamu Tezuka, translated by Maya Rosewood

With all that swashbuckling fun, Princess Knight – recently available in full, in English translation, in two volumes – is seemingly one of the godfather of manga’s more goofy stories. Up in heaven, God’s in the process of deciding gender for each about-to-be-born baby, assigning a girl heart or a boy heart just before sending them down to earth. Mischievous angel Tink (a nominal nod to Tinkerbell?) decides one such baby “look[s] like you’d be a boy anyways!” and stuffs a blue heart in its mouth … but seconds later, God decides she’s going to be a girl, and suddenly she’s both. Uh-oh. So God orders Tink earthbound with the gender-bender baby to retrieve the boy heart if she turns out to the girl God foretold.

Down in earthly Silverland, the queen is about to give birth. She needs to bear a son to carry on the royal line, or else the throne will be stolen by an evil relative. Princess Sapphire enters the world, but in a stuttering mistranslation, a prince is announced to the assembled kingdom. The young royal grows up as Prince Sapphire (at least to the public) – even though she bears an uncanny resemblance to Disney’s animated Snow White. She’s the epitome of princely power, but give her a flouncy gown and a hefty wig, and she morphs into the most graceful and elegant stranger who (of course) captures the heart of Prince Franz Charming from the nearby kingdom of (what else?) Goldland.

But all is not well in the fair lands. Duke Duralumin is determined to install his less-than-competent son (named Plastic!) on the throne. Duralumin’s henchman Lord Nylon will do anything to get rid of Sapphire. Meanwhile, Madame Hell wants Prince Franz for her own daughter, the goddess Venus decides the hapless prince should actually be hers, and a handsome young pirate falls in love with Sapphire and vows to do her bidding. Through it all, Tink must try to keep Sapphire safe, long enough to return that errant heart to heaven.

Beneath the adventurous, fast-paced, often comical façade, Tezuka adds more than a few heavy-duty layers: gender politics, equality and equity, class issues, questions of identity, definitions of morality, and more. Most interestingly, Tezuka takes on Christianity, perhaps more overtly than in any other of his works (certainly that I’ve read thus far). From gender identification as God-ordained and the possibility of ‘holy’ mistakes in the first chapter (daring!), to the mix-and-matching of a Christian God with ancient Greek deities, to crucifix-fearing evil characters (including Satan), to surprising representations of heaven and hell, Tezuka pushes one button after another … just to see what might happen. The result is a delightful, thoughtful challenge – visually, intellectually … and even spiritually.

To check out other titles by the godfather of manga on BookDragon, click here.

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2011 (United States)

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, .Translation, Japanese

Dororo: Omnibus Edition by Osamu Tezuka, translated by Dawn T. Laabs

Oh, what a plethora of choices for accessing this swashbuckling series by the godfather of manga: you could go with the original 1960s manga series in Japanese, watch the 26-part anime from 1969 or the live-action film (available dubbed in English even!) from 2007, play the video game version titled “Blood Will Tell,” or read it in English translation in three volumes.

Starting tomorrow, you have yet another option: you can pick up this hefty omnibus version of the 2009 Eisner winner for Best U.S. Edition of International Material – Japan. Fair warning – the omnibus isn’t particularly portable being 2.5 inches thick (844 pages!), but it’s definitely the most convenient way to read the classic in a single setting (and you’ll want to, trust me).

Back in the feudal centuries (approximately 15th to 17th) of a Japan run amuck with warring samurai, Lord Daigo Kagemitsu makes an ugly pact with 48 demons: in exchange for complete rule of the land, he’s willing to offer 48 body parts from his about-to-be-born-son. Indeed, his newborn emerges unrecognizable as human – he’s little more than a limbless, blind, mute blob. The evil Lord forces his distraught wife to float the silent mass down river.

A brilliant, caring doctor rescues the partial boy, feeds and nurtures him, and even builds him prosthetic limbs (complete with hidden weapons!). Most importantly, the good doc gives the transformed boy a name, Hyakkimaru (meaning ‘a hundred demons’). When ghouls, ghosts, and goblins start to haunt the good doc’s home rather too frequently, Hyakkimaru realizes it’s time for him to venture out into the brave new world. On his first night alone, he’s warned by a mysterious voice, “you shall encounter forty-eight demons. Your body is missing forty-eight body parts. Vanquish those demons, and your body may return to normal.”

One demon, one body part at a time, Hyakkimaru embarks on his dangerous journey toward full-body reclamation. He’s aided (and occasionally hindered) by Dororo, an adorable orphan with a frightening past, who turns out to be quite a talented thief ["dororo," in Japanese, is a childish pronunciation for dorobōmeaning thief]. In spite of their bickering, the two misfits bond quickly, saving each other from one possessed adventure after another.

In spite of the high cute-factor (including Tezuka’s own signature self-insertions of comic relief), this is not a manga to take lightly. Death and destruction appears on nearly every page. Besides the bad parenting, you’ve got fratricide, countless traitors, careless murderers, not to mention the ungrateful villagers who keep throwing the dynamic duo out as soon as they vanquish their demons. That said, thanks to the original godfather, family dysfunction has never had (and most likely never will have) such exuberant, plucky presentation …

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2008 (United States), 2012 (new omnibus edition)

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, .Translation, Japanese

The Meaning of Night: A Confession by Michael Cox

If, like me, you’re in the throes of Downton Abbey withdrawal, might I highly recommend the late Michael Cox‘s only two novels [sadly the noted expert on the Victorian ghost story passed away two years ago at just age 60]. Yes, the British monarchs are different (Queen Victoria reigns in Cox’s double volumes – this and its fabulous sequel The Glass of Time – while the Lord Crawleys bow to King George V), but the upstairs/downstairs class-inspired intrigue is just as (if not more so) wicked and delicious!

Constructed as a diary-like “confession” from the mid-19th century that is discovered and edited (with such convincing annotations as to send you google-ing often) by a 21st-century Victorian literature professor with Cambridge credentials, Meaning begins with an unforgettable first line: “After killing the red-haired man, I took myself off to Quinn’s for an oyster supper.” WOW.

Over the next 700 pages (or 22 hours if you’re listening to David Timson’s narration with just the right fear factor woven in), the ‘confessor’ Edward Glyver reveals the story of his extraordinary life, moving in and out of various decades, not to mention multiple identities. Raised by his widowed mother, his modest childhood will be the most stable period of his tumultuous life. His admission to prestigious Eton College ends ignominiously when he is wrongfully accused of theft, an incident that sparks his life-long enmity for his former friend, Phoebus Rainsford Daunt. That relationship will define the rest of his life.

With the death of his mother, Edward inherits her private papers, including her journals which hold a secret so shocking Edward will take years to fully unravel. Detail by detail, he will need to find the proof to his true identity, all the while trying to keep his nemesis from usurping his rightful inheritance. He travels the world, becomes quite the independent literary scholar, and maneuvers himself into well-placed employment as a personal assistant to a powerful solicitor with the very connections he needs. Step by careful step, he moves closer to Evenwood, the principle seat of the Tansor Barony. To both the estate and title, Edward believes himself to be the only legal heir …

Edward’s labyrinthine quest is rife with heart-thumping twists and turns. Sure, you might guess a few of the outcomes, but you’ll be so absorbingly entertained, you won’t be able to stop turning the pages. [For listeners, fair warning that you'll most likely revert to the page as you'll want to know more, more, more at a speed that even the best narrator can't provide. It's that good.]

As soon as you get to page 703, rest assured that the sequel awaits … and that, too, proves to be spectacularly memorable.

Readers: Adult

Published: 2006

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Audio, .Fiction, British

The Princess and the Peanut: A Royally Allergic Fairytale by Sue Ganz-Schmitt, illustrated by Micah Chambers-Goldberg

Quick: Growing up, how many kids did you know who carried epi-pens? I can’t think of a single child (I’m dating myself, I’m sure), except for silly me, but mine were for bee stings. That certainly is not the case now! Our daughter was always one of the many students with epi-pens stored with the school nurse for years (luckily, miraculously, she outgrew her peanut allergy in middle school).

As unique as I think our daughter is, she’s one of millions of kids in the U.S. with food allergies … exact numbers vary, but all agree that the prevalence of food allergies is definitely growing. Peanuts, of course, are at the top of the list for being the most common food allergy.

Thanks to author Sue Ganz-Schmitt, allergies get a royal makeover in one of the most cleverly entertaining re-inventions of a classic fairytale ever. Gorgeous, richly detailed illustrations from Micah Chambers-Goldberg imbue the story with utter charm and delightful humor.

A sweet, goofy prince is searching for the perfect princess. He has no luck until a lost stranger arrives at the castle on a late rainy night. She turns out to be allergic to the peanut hidden under many mattresses (because the castle is just plain out of peas), and a doctor is rushed in with a dose of epinephrine. The princess quickly recovers, the prince recognizes his soulmate (and vice-versa) and gives up even his favorite snack– peanut butter – to remain close by her side. He makes sure to wash his hands when he asks for hers (in marriage). The castle goes all peanut- and tree nut-free and everyone is sure to live happily ever after.

Younger readers will definitely enjoy the adventure, but adults just might have even more fun: the creators both have a subversive, multi-layered sense of humor and really know how get you to giggle and guffaw right along (no spoilers here; you deserve to discover the glee all on your own). The final two pages of the book are helpfully filled with useful information for parents, teachers, caregivers as a necessary reminder that food allergies are never a laughing matter.

Readers: Children

Published: 2011

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Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, .Fiction, Nonethnic-specific

Good Fortune in a Wrapping Cloth by Joan Schoettler, illustrated by Jessica Lanan

Manga addict that I’ve become in my old age, I tend to start books-with-pictures from the back cover. This, I’ve learned, often yields insightful rewards. [And no, I am not one of those skippers with novels, ahem!]

Going backwards worked well here: author Joan Schoettler, who is not of Korean descent, reveals in her “Author’s Note” that she was so inspired after visiting a collection of bojagi  – traditional Korean wrapping cloths – on exhibit at the Asian Art Museum in San Francisco, that she was inspired to write this, her first picture book! She shares her new knowledge in an informative historical overview of bojagi and its importance in everyday Korean culture. Her “Author Acknowledgements” point to her extensive research, as well. Context always makes any story richer …

Ji-su’s mother’s sewing skills are so accomplished, she is chosen to create her bojagi for the royal household. But in order to serve in the palace, she must leave Ji-su behind with her aunt. Already fatherless, Ji-su begs her mother to stay.

“My dear daughter, be strong like bamboo,” her mother encourages. Handing her a parting gift, she gently tells Ji-su: “Open this after I leave. Wrapping a package with a bojagi, we send good luck to the person – blessings and wishes of happiness, health, and good fortune.”

Inside Ji-su finds her mother’s “seven close companions” – the tools with which her mother created her intricate bojagis. She begs her aunt to teach her to sew, and vows she will one day create a bojagi of her own so beautiful that she, too, will be called to the palace. And so the young girl’s lessons begin … hoping every stitch will someday bring her closer and closer to her beloved mother.

Illustrator Jessica Lanan has a dreamy style that evokes Korea of centuries past. Certain panels clearly stand out – little Ji-su trying to envelop her mother with her too-short arms, Ji-su flying high all alone above the tall tree branches bursting with autumn colors, frightened Ji-su silently awaiting the judgment of the two looming palace masters as they examine her handiwork.

As engaging as Good Fortune is, two rather minor details I found myself questioning. The Anglicization of the Korean word for ‘mommy’ is “Eomma” here. The first syllable is just a plain ‘uhm’ – ‘eom’ just doesn’t work – and it’s usually written out as ‘umma.’ Because the book starts with “Eomma …,” to see the word thus written was initially a jarring surprise. Additionally, Lanan’s choice to depict Ji-su’s aunt as elderly didn’t seem to fit the story. Ji-su is 10, her mother couldn’t be more than 30 given childbearing practices hundreds of years ago; even if her aunt is much older, she wouldn’t possibly be 60, which is what she looks like here. Other pictures suggest that the aunt has fairly young daughters, the oldest maybe a teenager … so maybe she’s 40 at most?

Small details, yes, but enough to make me take sharp notice. More importantly, however, will your kids be bothered? Most likely not … they’ll be too busy enjoying and celebrating Ji-su’s hardworking Good Fortune.

Readers: Children

Published: 2011

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Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, .Fiction, Korean, Nonethnic-specific