Review of "The Tale of Despereaux"

"The room full of mice fell silent, expectant, waiting."

     Kate DiCamillo's The Tale of Despereaux tells the charming story of a mouse, a servant girl, a vengeful rat, and soup. Despereaux Tilling is a disappointment all around: fascinated by stories, uninterested in scurrying, and completely useless at collecting crumbs to eat in the walls. All he wants to do is read the book left open in the library, about a knight who saves the princess he loves. And when the Princess Pea tells her father to play a song for the little mouse, he quickly finds himself falling in love as well. This, of course, does not sit well with the Mouse Council. They banish Despereaux to the castle dungeon, where he will be eaten by the rats...but when he uncovers a terrible plot to kidnap the princess, this mouse must muster the courage to do what no one else is capable of.

     At first glance, Despereaux is a ridiculous story. How can a mouse love a princess? How can a hard-of-hearing serving girl change the fate of a kingdom? Indeed, how can soup, or a rat, or a mouse? It's crazy. Silly. Unbelievable. And yet, somehow, DiCamillo makes it work. With an almost whimsical writing style that grounds everything in reality, the author weaves the lives of three unlikely protagonists into a cohesive tapestry that makes sense. She addresses the reader directly in nearly every chapter, asking thought-provoking questions and defining big words. This is done in a manner that flows naturally with the story and actually provides a bit of humor.

     Despereaux is one of the most lovable characters ever written. Though he's small, big-eared, and very un-mouse-like, our hero has a heart the size of a mountain range and unimaginable courage that will take him far, if only he can learn to use it. Also populating this account is Miggery, a plump, simpleminded servant girl who wants nothing more than to be a princess; and Chiaroscuro, a rat with a black heart and a desire for revenge. Together they form a complex trio with hopes and fears that interact realistically. Each character has a mind of its own, a complicated soul, and an overarching longing for a happy ending that makes them sympathetic, even if they aren't all likable.

     DiCamillo's tale is chock-full of excitement, love, beauty, and darkness. Everything is judged by its amount of light and shadow, from the stained glass windows to the princess' heart to the dark, filthy dungeon where the climax takes place. Characters develop quite a bit over the course of the book, though it's usually very subtle. They don't curse; Mig cries "Gor!" and others resort to insults and ear-boxing, both of which occur quite frequently but are not described in detail. Otherwise, violence is kept to chopped-off tails and threatening tools. Readers will also discover the tragic story behind the human king's law banning soup from the kingdom, which has ripple effects throughout the story. The author has a way of making the reader feel her protagonists' emotions and inspiring empathy for even the vilest of creatures. This, among other things, marks her narrative as unique among its shelf-mates.

     I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a story about unlikely heroes, mice against rats, and soup. Each protagonist is described with ease; each fantastical situation plausible; every scene a delicate balance of brilliant description, dialogue, and action. DiCamillo has written a great book with The Tale of Despereaux, full of empathy, strength, and the resonating power of hope for a happy ending. Together, these factors add up to a truly five-star novel.