Have you ever wondered where the Nutcracker got his fierce eyes? His disturbing set of choppers, or the lever in his back? He wasn’t always such an odd-looking fellow.
In a dark basement one July afternoon, a nutcracker awakes in his excelsior crate, surprised to see two other figurines, Carol and Glory, staring back at him from the opposite end. He’ll have to get used to much more than shared space before long. When toys and dolls with human likeness are animated by an itinerant grace light, their stories become linked. The story of bacon and sausages, greed and gluttony, curses and redemption is the backstory of The Nutcracker told throughout. But he has lost all hope of living as anything but this wooden manikin form. It is Carol who gradually draws him out of his hard shell, and makes him aware of the caring heart he once had. Carol is cautious but kind, believing, “No one can help how they are formed, or sketched, or molded. She believed that goodness should be expected and returned.” Glory, a shimmering tree-topping angel, is no stranger to miracles and unusual phenomena. Her arming presence brings the story to its “logical conclusion.”
Have you ever wondered where the Nutcracker got his fierce eyes? His disturbing set of choppers, or the lever in his back? He wasn’t always such an odd-looking fellow.
In a dark basement one July afternoon, a nutcracker awakes in his excelsior crate, surprised to see two other figurines, Carol and Glory, staring back at him from the opposite end. He’ll have to get used to much more than shared space before long. When toys and dolls with human likeness are animated by an itinerant grace light, their stories become linked. The story of bacon and sausages, greed and gluttony, curses and redemption is the backstory of The Nutcracker told throughout. But he has lost all hope of living as anything but this wooden manikin form. It is Carol who gradually draws him out of his hard shell, and makes him aware of the caring heart he once had. Carol is cautious but kind, believing, “No one can help how they are formed, or sketched, or molded. She believed that goodness should be expected and returned.” Glory, a shimmering tree-topping angel, is no stranger to miracles and unusual phenomena. Her arming presence brings the story to its “logical conclusion.”
A porcelain Christmas caroler and a glorious angel were placed on a sale table beneath a white canopy tent. On that same table sat a baby snowman and a tiny reindeer. Other items had also been laid beneath the white canopy that guarded shoppers from the hot summer sun. A sign nearby read “RICKSHACK’S KNICKKNACKS AND KNOVELTIES.” Another sign over the canopy read “SUMMER TENT SALE—ALL CHRISTMAS MERCHANDISE 75% OFF!” A few other ornaments that had lost some of their glitter were strewn about, and shoppers picked them up to look them over. Then, they would carelessly place them on the table again, not exactly where they had found them. The air was heavy with the rainfall from earlier that morning. The smells of car exhaust and pond water mixed with the steamy scent of popcorn from the machine just inside the store. Shoppers were encouraged to enjoy a bottomless bag of popcorn laden with salt and artificial butter flavor while they browsed about. The sound of popping corn and the blazing sun reflecting off the large tent, while a radio played lilting island music over the speaker, lulled shoppers into a vacation stupor. It was a very warm summer afternoon, and no one felt it more than The Caroler, dressed in a holly-green worsted dress topped with a crimson feltedwool duster, neatly trimmed in fur. She was made of a hard-baked porcelain, with stiff cotton limbs, and so was able to stand on her own. Though she was painted in the lovely Dresden tradition, she had not sold over the winter months and now had to bear the hardships of Rickshack’s Summer Tent Sale. She tried not to take it personally. She reasoned, “There are so many of us, it’s no wonder we didn’t all sell. How could we all possibly avoid such a fate?” She fought back the sadness and looked down at her songbook and sang softly to Baby Snowman and Tiny Reindeer. Their fate was the same as hers, she must remember. They must encourage one another and not lose hope. Someone would buy them soon, and next Christmas they will be with old friends on a new shelf. Or new friends on an old shelf—whatever the case may be. 2 She took some comfort in the pretty wreath next to her. It was wound with a lovely striped ribbon. And though the wreath was made of artificial pine needles, someone had thought to glue a few pinecones to it, which gave off a sweet, piney scent in the summer heat. The scent must have captured the attention of a swallowtail butterfly who happened to be passing by, and he fluttered into the tent. After admiring his reflection in a framed mirror for just a moment too long, he wrenched himself away and came to rest on The Caroler’s songbook. The two eyed each other: she in wonder, he in bored curiosity. The Caroler admired the deep blue of his wings and the way his antennae swayed thoughtfully as he considered her. “Hello,” she said, hoping for some conversation. But he said nothing; only looked, and then losing interest, lifted himself away and was gone. She was a little disappointed at his sudden departure, but felt lighter in spirit because he had bothered to come by at all. The hot afternoon wore on for what seemed hours but finally gave way to a more pleasant twilight. While she couldn’t say the day had cooled much, it certainly was more bearable. Soon, one of the employees came over to the table and plugged in some nice twinkle lights, and she began to feel a little more at home. A light breeze brushed by her bringing the aroma of night phlox, reminding The Caroler of one of her favorite songs. She sang softly: Whence is the goodly fragrance flowing, Stealing our senses all away? Never the like did come a-blowing, Shepherds, in flow’ry fields of May. Whence is that goodly fragrance flowing, Stealing our senses all away? She must have dozed for a moment because she was startled to see two large blue eyes staring at her while a chubby hand caused Tiny Reindeer to prance. Soon the other hand had Baby Snowman and both were hopping across the table. Glorious Angel stifled a giggle and quickly regained her composure as the two eyes began to examine her. And then, unexpectedly, the chubby hand grabbed Glorious Angel, dropping her into a shopping basket along with Tiny Reindeer and Baby Snowman, leaving The Caroler speechless and bereft. The child took her basket, and with it, The Caroler’s friends. She was left alone with a bell without a clapper, an ornament that had lost its crown, and the pinecone wreath. She felt a tear form just behind her eye, but she was only made of porcelain and could not cry. What had she expected? That they would always be together? 3 Over the past few months, she had grown fond of them and others like them. Others who had found their way into shopping baskets, homes, and hearths. She felt somehow responsible for Baby Snowman and Tiny Reindeer, and now they were gone. She hoped they would be placed on a comfortable shelf and allowed to live out their purpose. She sighed. “I will not feel sorry for myself,” she thought, as she lifted her chin a little higher. But just then the blue eyes reappeared, and this time with her mother. “Are you sure you have enough allowance for all your choices?” asked the mother. The child pulled out a wad of cash from her small purse: three dollars, which was enough for Tiny Reindeer and Baby Snowman, but not enough for Glorious Angel. “You’ll have to put back the angel, Marie,” her mother said. Marie reluctantly set the angel back on the table, and they started to walk away. Then, Marie’s mother looked back thoughtfully to The Caroler and picked her up. “Lovely,” she said, and laid her gently in her own basket. She reached for Marie’s hand. As she did so, Glorious Angel, no stranger to miracles and unusual phenomena, became caught on the shopping basket, and together they all bumped their way to the cashier’s desk at the front of the tent.
What happens when a young girl and her mother pick up some discounted Christmas decorations during a summer tent sale? In this fresh retelling of a seasonal classic, the answer is plenty!
Christmas magic is in the air when two newly-purchased porcelain figurines, Glory (“Glorious Angel”) and Carol (the Caroler) join a curmudgeonly wooden nutcracker in the basement of the Nicklaus household. This clever story-within-a-story unfolds as readers unravel the mystery of Colonel Drosselmeier’s backstory. It goes back to the fateful day “when he had every reason to hope he would remove an ugly curse, marry a princess, and someday be king.”
That was before everything went awry. But if the wooden manikin could somehow slay the Mouse King and win the love of a lady, Colonel Drosselmeier would be made whole again. Can Carol and Glory help before it’s too late? And what’s up with the beady-eyed and sticky-fingered housekeeper, Mrs. Houserings? What’s really in her bowling bag?
Fans of The Velveteen Rabbit, Hans Christian Andersen and Beatrix Potter will find much to love in this gentle and heartwarming fantasy/fairy tale. It has a little bit of everything. Pitch-perfect pacing. Creativity. Spark. Spunk. Wonder. Enchantment. Romance. Full-bodied characters and a robust plot. Dramatic battle scenes. Winged hussars! If you close your eyes and “listen” closely, in fact, you may even hear a few bars from a well-known and beloved Christmas classic by Tchaikovsky. (Scene stealers: Glory the angel and Old Judas, the geriatric orange cat.)
Clocking in at just under one hundred pages, The Caroler can be easily read in an afternoon. I read it cover to cover in one sitting. Couldn’t put it down!
So pour yourself a hot cuppa. Grab a blanket. Cozy into a comfy chair and get ready to lose yourself in this witty and captivating tale of love, loss, and redemption. It has all the earmarks of a Christmas classic and is sure to delight readers young and old for years to come. It would make a good movie. Or even better, a ballet.