Patrice Kindl

Owl In Love — (1991) Publisher: Part bird of prey, part teenage girl in love, and now part stalker, Owl Tycho"s life is complicated. It becomes even more so when an inept new shape-shifter appears on the scene. Funny, smart, and supernatural, Owl is a young woman worth getting to know.

The Woman in the Wall — (1997) Ages 9-12. Publisher: Anna is more than shy. She is nearly invisible. At seven, terrified of school, Anna retreats within the walls of her family's enormous house, and builds a world of passageways and hidden rooms. As the years go by, people forget she ever existed. Then a mysterious note is thrust through a crack in the wall, and Anna must decide whether or not to come out of hiding. Patrice Kindl's astounding, inventive novel blends fantasy and reality — and readers will not forget it.

Goose Chase — (2001) Young adult. Publisher: Her name is Alexandria Aurora Fortunato, and she is as lovely as the dawn. But that is only one of her problems. There’s also the matter of those three magical gifts of treasure bestowed on her by a mysterious old woman. And King Claudio the Cruel wants to marry her for her beauty and her wealth, and so does his rival, Prince Edmund of Dorloo. Those are two more problems. And, worst of all, she is locked in a tower, with a grille of iron bars and several hundred tons of stone between her and freedom. Some days Alexandria wishes she looked like a pickled onion. Clearly the only thing to do is escape — and, with the aid of her twelve darling goose companions, that’s precisely what Alexandria does. So begins the adventure of Patrice Kindl’s beguiling heroine. Her flight will take her to strange lands and lead her into perilous situations, all of which the plucky Alexandria views with a wry and witty spirit. Here is a sprightly tale of magic and romance, in which those geese play a most surprising role.

Lost in the Labyrinth — (2002) Ages 9-12. Publisher: From the deepest layer of the Labyrinth under the Royal Palace to the topmost floor of the prison tower, this enthralling version of the myth of the maze and the Minotaur by master storyteller Patrice Kindl is filled with the marvelous and the strange.

Lost in the Labyrinth

In recent years there has been a massive increase in the publication of re-told fairytales and myths, usually with the author twisting the known facts and meanings of the original source material into something more contemporary: villains become sympathetic characters, we see the proceedings through the eyes of a minority character such as a slave or a woman, or hidden agendas and meanings are revealed behind the bare bones of the story.

Famous examples of this have been Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Mists of Avalon, Gail Carson Levine's Ella Enchanted and any of Donna Jo Napoli's wonderful canon of reshaped fairytales. Patrice Kindl takes a similar path with Lost in the Labyrinth, a retelling of the Theseus and Minotaur myth, and though she is not quite as successful as the above-mentioned authors, she still gives us an interesting and sometimes haunting read.

The original myth took place entirely on the island of Crete, where twelve young Athenians were taken each year be sacrificed to the vicious Minotaur, the offspring of a bull and the god-cursed Queen Pasiphae. King Minos was disgusted by his Queen's bestiality and the sight of her son, and so employed the inventor Daedalus to design a labyrinth in order to hide this Minotaur, and sacrificed the Athenians to it in order to keep it under control. Finally, Prince Theseus of Athens came to the island, and with the help of the king's daughter Ariadne he slew the monster and made his escape.

This story however, though it keeps all the basic facts, changes the meaning and reasoning behind these events. It is told in first person by Princess Xenodice, who is satisfied with her lot in life: helping at the menagerie, enjoying the comforts of palace life and in love with Daedalus's son Icarus. But changes are brewing for Xenodice when a ship bringing the latest group of Athenians comes ashore, bringing with them Prince Theseus who is eager to continue his heroic feats by slaying the Minotaur.

But the Minotaur — or Lord Asterius as his family call him — is not the monster that the Athenians have long believed him to be. The boy with the bull's head is not a monster, but rather a docile beast that is dangerous only when provoked, and Xenodice is very fond of him. Concerned for his safety, Xenodice does all in her power to protect the ones she loves when she discovers her elder sister Ariadne is in love with Theseus and there is a plot afoot to topple the royal prince.

Despite all the changes from the original source, Kindl falls prey to a new set of clichés that abound in this new genre. Starting with The Mists of Avalon, there is a constant trend of presenting ancient societies as matriarchal utopias, where the women are in charge. Not only is this historically incorrect, but the fact is that all the darker components of the myth are "sanitised" in order to fit into this New Age idea of ancient civilisation. For example, the Minotaur in Kindl's retelling is a creature who owes its existence to the will of the Goddess and the mythic figure of "the Bull of the Earth," not a potent symbol of the animalistic side of man. The Athenian sacrifices are brought to the island simply to tend to the royal family rather than as sacrifices. The continued imprisonment of Daedalus and Icarus is based on a technicality rather than suspicion and jealousy. The labyrinth, with its sinister curves and twists, is now the ancestral palace of the royal family. In other words, all the juicy bits have been removed! There's nothing wrong with changing myths in order to find a deeper meaning to them, but often it felt that Kindl simply catered to a New Age ideology that brings no deeper resonance to the story.

However, these is just my personal opinions on what myths mean and how they should be retold, and most young readers will be delighted with this retelling. Kindl's details of the particulars of Minoan life are detailed and realistic, and the labyrinthine palace with its luxurious baths and dark prisons comes to life on the page. Her characterisations are thoughtful, with no true heroes or villains, and she brings touches of intrigue to the tale, such as Xenodice's vision of Ariadne, the resurrection of Glaucus, and her haunting last paragraph. If you are aware of the ending of this particular myth then you'll be dreading the ending, but Kindl manages to hit the right note of poignancy without being too depressing or too uplifting.

Lost in the Labyrinth was my first read by Patricia Kindl, but it shall not be my last.
—Rebecca Fisher