Beauty & the Beast like you've never seen before.
Hiding around an isolated town called Sugarcane is a monster known only through the tales the townsfolk tell. It's said to enchant those who get too close, filling them with an obsessive need to be near it. But it disappeared a hundred years ago into the lemongrass field that surrounds the town. Gone, until Clara King finds herself drawn into the grasses. An accident, but it sends history on a collision path with the present in a way that will either mean the monster's death or the destruction of her home.
Beauty & the Beast like you've never seen before.
Hiding around an isolated town called Sugarcane is a monster known only through the tales the townsfolk tell. It's said to enchant those who get too close, filling them with an obsessive need to be near it. But it disappeared a hundred years ago into the lemongrass field that surrounds the town. Gone, until Clara King finds herself drawn into the grasses. An accident, but it sends history on a collision path with the present in a way that will either mean the monster's death or the destruction of her home.
Itâs nothing more than a tale. Quiet whispers from a fading past to stumble across ignorant tongues year by year. It tells of a magic, merciless and cruel, that once marched the streets of this isolated town. Bewitching the people, one by one, a monster unlike anything theyâd seen before.
But it was human.
Twisted and rotten, nothing alive within its skin, âwhat doesnât bleed has no heart,â as they said.
The victims wouldnât fight. No, theyâd join the ruse, succumbing to the potent enchantment. Theyâd yearn for its touch, a simple little brush, craving stronger and deeper with every appeasement. Want turned to need, madness consuming their fragile, broken minds, to turn on the town they held familiar. Destruction in their wake, and Sugarcane fell to ashes as the enchanted searched hopelessly for their hiding monster.
So the creature was banished.
Kept just beyond the borders in the surrounding field of lemongrass, trapped within a cage that wouldnât dare shatter. Sealed with a key, kept well hidden in the town, and the monster was left to fading memory.
Whispers of events, uncertain accounts, to preserve a twisted story.
For the truth hides in full,
remaining nothing more
than a tale.
Rosie Bellis' first novella has all the hallmarks of being the start of an enduring writing career. Reworking Beauty and the Beast means that she has been able to take an established story which we know well in our minds and play with it, making it her own and in that, she has been successful as the bones of Beast are there but the padding is all of Bellis' own.
It concerns itself with a schoolgirl called Clara King who is curious about the new arrival to class and decides to follow her, a girl called Early, after school into the lemongrass of the title, which surrounds the town where she lives called Sugarcane. It is not a place into which many enter due to a legend regarding something that lives there; a mythical monster which if encountered will hold a strange power over you, causing destruction and grief. Obviously, Clara entering the lemongrass starts something which had previously been somnolent and so, we follow the developments of her encounter, and its repercussions.
There is clear direction throughout the whole of the story and Bellis' grasp of the importance of good dialogue does much to establish clear characters as well as driving the action.
I had no trouble reading this book but I felt like the second half was not as tight as the first; the latter part of the book drifted into the realm of make-believe and had a less solid feel for me, whereas the first half, secured in establishing relationships, setting and story felt, to me, more concrete.
But what I will especially take away from reading this book is Bellis' ability to weave with words. It is what all good writers should be able to do: to choose carefully their vocabulary to craft individual words into phrases that evoke pictures in the readers' minds in order for them to enjoy, be stimulated by, and ultimately, to return to their writing.
For example, "There's a certain sound that fabric makes as it catches on a breath of air" or "Dust clings to the air, falling in teasing drifts toward the ground" or "Quiet whispers from a fading past to stumble across ignorant tongues year by year."
I could go on - some of her phrasing is sublime.
I look forward to seeing what the next book brings.