The Book of Lost Things

John Connolly

Hachette Livre

Otago Daily Times, November 25th 2006

I hated most of the fairy stories that lulled my childish sleep — sugar-coated bowdlerisations of far more sinister and chilling fare. John Connolly’s latest offering, The Book of Lost Things, is a modern-day fairy tale true to that older, darker style.

Once upon a time there was a boy called Daniel, who loved nothing more than reading stories with his mother. When she died and his father married again, he had nobody for company but his books, whose voices come to fill his head. Among their whispers he hears his lost mother’s cries, and is lured by her call into a world where the characters in his favourite stories dwell, real but twisted from their familiar shapes. Here, too, he meets the Crooked Man, who promises him this kingdom in exchange for one simple thing; the name of his newborn baby brother.

Connolly has a light and entertaining touch that entices the reader into the adventure alongside Daniel. He blends the bland, pastel colours of familiar heroes and heroines with darker and more sinister tones, and enlivens the picture with bright splashes of satisfyingly vivid bloodshed.

For those of you who know Neil Gaiman, think Stardust crossed with Coraline. For those who don’t, The Book of Lost Things is what a fairy-story is supposed to be, and I mean that as a recommendation.