Gail Carson Levine

Stand-alone novels:

Ella Enchanted — (1997) Ages 9-12. Available for download at Audible.com. Publisher: How can a fairy's blessing be such a curse? At her birth, Ella of Frell was the unfortunate recipient of a foolish fairy's gift — the "gift' of obedience. Ella must obey any order given to her, whether it's hopping on one foot for a day and a half, or chopping off her own head! But strong-willed Ella does not tamely accept her fate. Against a bold backdrop of princes, ogres, giants, wicked stepsisters, and fairy godmothers, Ella goes on a quest to break the curse — once and for all. In this incredible debut novel comes the richly entertaining story of Ella of Frell, who at birth was given the gift of obedience by a fairy. Ella soon realizes that this gift is little better than a curse, for how can she truly be herself if at anytime anyone can order her to hop on one foot, or cut off her hand, or betray her kingdom'and she'll have to obey? Against a bold tapestry of princes, ogres, giants, wicked stepsisters, and fairy godmothers, Ella's quest to break the curse once and for all and discover who she really is is as sharply funny as Catherine, Called Birdy and as richly poignant as Beauty, and has all the marks of a classic in the making.

Ella Enchanted: “He Laughed More in a Morning with You than in Two Weeks with Us…”

Retold fairytales, in which the characters and plots of traditional stories are explored in more depth, or told from an unexpected point-of-view, are a dime a dozen these days. But one stands out from the rest, and that is Gail Carson Levine’s Ella Enchanted, which takes the story of Cinderella and not only provides impetus for many of the nonsensical elements of the original tale, but builds a rich imaginary world around it and makes the titular character one of the best heroines to ever appear in YA novel.

If you secretly always thought Cinderella was a bit of a pushover, sitting and crying by the fireplace when she could have been raiding her stepsisters’ wardrobes and hitchhiking to the ball, then you’ll be pleased to find that Levine gives us a perfect acceptable reason as to why her Ella is so slavishly obedient to her step-family: she’s under a spell. When just a baby, an idiotic fairy called Lucinda blessed her with the “gift” of obedience, in which Ella is forced to obey every command she hears.

A wish or a request has no effect on her, but a direct order, no matter how terrible it is, must be obeyed. Any attempts at disregarding it results in frightening nausea and dizziness. Levine takes this conceit and heightens the dramatic effect to its full potency. Ella’s life is monopolized by her constant internal battle between obedience and defiance: “It was a tiresome game, but I had to play it or feel like a complete puppet.” Because she’s naturally willful, she makes an art out of finding loopholes in the commands she receives. When someone demands that she fetch almonds from the pantry for a cake, she responds by bringing back just two. When someone orders her to take off their smelly shoes, she counteracts by throwing them out the window directly afterwards. Although there are moments of comedy involved in her plight, Levine never shies away from the fact that Ella is under a terrible curse; such as the horror that comes with the command to: “be happy to be blessed with such a lovely quality.”

Ella nurses the dream of one day being free of the spell, but until then, we’re with her as she struggles with her self-control, hoping that one day she’ll either get Lucinda to remove the spell, or come across a command that’s too heinous to obey. But what command could possibly be terrible enough for her to withstand the pain and break the spell through sheer force of will?

Ella herself is a fantastic character, and tells her own story in first-person narrative (difficult to pull off without the narrator sounding too self-involved, but here it doesn’t falter for a second). Ella is not perfect by any means, but she’s intelligent and witty, gifted at languages, kind-hearted, and endearingly stubborn when it comes to dealing with her curse, clinging to her dignity even as she’s forced into doing the most embarrassing things. One general thing does get on my nerves though, and that’s the oft-repeated character trait among YA heroines: crippling clumsiness. Sure, we’re all klutzy at that age, but the way the authors of YA novels write teenage girls, you’d think they couldn’t perform the most basic physical tasks without skirting death itself. But where most YA fairytales/romances are dominated by the swooning damsel staring at the dreamy hero, Levine never looses sight of the fact that this story is all Ella’s, culminating in a vindication of free will and inner strength.

Like most fairytale heroines, Ella loses her mother; unlike most fairytale heroines, we the reader actually get a sense of the love between mother and daughter, and the pain that Ella feels when she loses her. Eleanor of Frell may only be around for one chapter, but in that time Levine makes us almost as sorry as Ella is to see her go. As the story goes on, the tale veers closer and closer to the familiar fairytale, and Levine finds amusing ways to insert the traditional Cinderella tropes, such as the glass slippers, the pumpkin carriage, and even the fact that Ella has small feet!

Olga, Hattie and Olive (the evil stepmother and stepsisters, respectively) are rather cartoonish villains, being gluttonous, avaricious, and idiotic. Furthermore, Hattie snores, has smelly feet, is overweight, and hides a secret that exposes her to further ridicule. In short, they are grotesque, and although a part of me wishes that there was more to their characters, the greater part doesn’t really care because it makes Ella’s victory over them all the sweeter. And Levine compensates for this ugly-side of womankind by adding the characters of Mandy (Ella’s fairy godmother) and Areida (a friend that she makes at school) as the more benevolent reflections of snotty Olga and vindictive Hattie.

There are some hilarious one-liners, and Levine is a wonderful humourist, very much in keeping with J.K. Rowling’s ability to dryly poke fun at the ridiculous. When Ella arrives at finishing school (where all the chamberpots look like decorative cabbages) she is told: “it’s never too late to start being finished.” When Hattie pens a letter to her mother concerning Ella’s disappearance, she writes: “I hope she has come to no harm and has not been eaten by ogres or captured by bandits or caught fire or fallen into bad company, as I so often imagine.” And my personal favourite:

“What a clever daughter I have.” Olga beamed at Hattie.
“As clever as she is beautiful,” I said.
They both began to answer me, and then stopped, confused.
“Hattie isn’t pretty,” said Olive.

The centerpiece of the story though, belongs to the love that blossoms between Prince Charmont (usually known as “Char”) and Ella. Basically, Char and Ella make up the best YA romance…ever. There, I said it. But it’s true. Whereas other authors-that-shall-remain-nameless rely on strangling their lovers with the red string (that is, trying to convince us that their characters are in love because the author says that they’re in love) Levine takes the time to build a relationship between Ella and Char that’s based on more than just physical attraction, and it’s all the more powerful for it. In the YA genre, in which love stories between a hero and heroine are about as deep as a paddling pool, these two are a godsend.

Char and Ella learn about each other before they fall in love. They acknowledge each other’s flaws as well as their strengths. They play silly games and share jokes. They converse via letters over an extended period of time, which include such reflective lines as this: “I trust you to see the good in me, but the bad I must make sure you don’t overlook.” They love the big things about each other, like their kindness and honesty, but also the silly little things, like each other’s freckles and a mutual enjoyment of sliding down banisters.

And because it is a love that is based on friendship, respect, compatibility and intelligence, it makes the heartbreak twice as painful, and the declaration twice as rewarding. Just think, two people actually becoming friends before they become lovers! Who’d have thought?!

The book was adapted into a rather awful movie not too long ago, which obliterated all the reasons why this book is so special, and replaced it with a story that relied too much on the popularity of Shrek (complete with a contemporary soundtrack, anachronistic elements and crude comedy) than the charm of Levine’s story. Avoid it if you can, and hope that in later years it’ll either be more faithfully adapted, or left well enough alone.

As you can see, I’ve got nothing but good things to say about Ella Enchanted, though admittedly it may not appeal to the average boy-reader, being essentially a rather feminine coming-of-age tale in a fairytale kingdom full of fairies and elves. But for everyone else, this is a wonderful book, with a spritely, loveable lead, and a mature and healthy understanding of romantic relationships (and I’m pointing this out, because it’s unfortunately so very, very rare). If your eight-to-twelve year old daughter holds up Ella of Frell as her literary role-model, then you’ve got yourself an awesome kid.
—Rebecca Fisher

The Wish — (1999) Ages 9-12. Publisher: Presto! — she's popular! In this original modern-day fairy tale, Gail Carson Levine, the Newbery Honor-winning author of Ella Enchanted, introduces a friendless eighth-grader whose wish to become the most popular kid at school comes true. Now, Wilma's life is everything she ever dreamed of — she has dozens of friends, guys vying for her attention, and she can do whatever she pleases and people still love her. But what will she do in a few weeks when her wish ends with graduation? Funny, painful, and delightfully real, this engaging novel explores the question of whether we really want to be liked for who we are.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre — (2001) Ages 9-12. Publisher: When a plague strikes Bamarre, Princess Addie must save her sister. Brave and adventureous, Princess Meryl dreams of fighting dragons and protecting the kingdom of Bamarre. Shy and fearful, Princess Addie is content to stay within the safety of the castle walls. The one thing that the sisters share is their unwavering love for each other. The tables are turned, however, when the Gray Death leaves Meryl fatally ill. To save her sister, meek Princess Addie must find the courage to set out on a dangerous quest filled with dragons, unknown magic, and death itself. Time is running out, and the sisters' lives — and the future of the kingdom of Bamarre — hang in the balance.

Fairest — (2006) Ages 9-12. Available for download at Audible.com. Publisher: I was born singing. Most babies cry. I sang an aria. Or so I believe. I have no one to tell me the truth of it. I was abandoned when I was a month old, left at the Featherbed Inn in the Ayorthaian village of Amonta. It was January 12th of the year of Thunder Songs. The fairy Lucinda has once again given a dreadful gift. This time it's a mysterious magical mirror. The gift is disastrous when it falls into the hands of Aza, who never looks in a mirror if she can help it. In the Kingdom of Ayortha, Aza is most definitely not the fairest of them all. Many spurn her. Many scoff at her. She keeps out of sight. But in a land of singers, Aza has her own gift, one she's come by without fairy intervention: a voice that can do almost anything, a voice that captivates all who hear it. In Ontio Castle, merry Prince Ijori is drawn to it, and vain Queen Ivi wants to use it for her own ends. Queen Ivi would do anything to remain the fairest in the land. In this spellbinding tale filled with humor, adventure, romance, and song, Newbery Honor author Gail Carson Levine invites you to join Aza as she discovers how exquisite she truly is.

Fairest

Just as Gail Carson Levine's award-winning Ella Enchanted tackled the story of Cinderella, giving the story depth and meaning whilst simultaneously treating the reader to one of the best heroines and most realistic romances in all of Young Adult literature, Fairest purports to retell the fairytale of Snow White with a few twists.

Aza was abandoned as an infant at the Featherbed Inn and adopted by the innkeeper and his wife. Though loved by her family, Aza is ashamed of her weight and perceived ugliness, particularly since the kingdom of Ayortha is one that prizes beauty and song above all other virtues. Shunned by many of the guests, Aza enjoys solitude and occasionally the company of the gnomes that sometimes stay at the inn, including one that prophesies that in the future they'll meet again underground at a time when Aza will be in grave danger.

A change in the routine of Aza’s life comes when a noblewoman in need of a lady's maid convinces her to attend the marriage of King Oscaro and his young commoner wife Ivi. Through a sequence of events, Aza finds herself in way over her head when she's made lady-in-waiting to the new Queen Ivi, who wants to exploit her talent of throwing her voice (what Aza calls "illusing") in order to make it appear as though she herself is a gifted singer.

What follows is a fairly loose retelling of "Snow White," with several good ideas on adapting fairytale to fit Aza's personal story, including a more sympathetic wicked queen, a unique interpretation of the magic mirror, gnomes in place of the seven dwarfs, and even a funny twist on the poisoned apple (it turns out Aza doesn't like apples all that much). When Aza’s vocal deception is revealed, she must clear her name, secure the safety of the kingdom, and reunite with her love, Prince Ijori.

Fairest is clearly meant to provide commentary on our appearance-obsessed society, but unfortunately the issue is not handled particularly well. Levine spends more time on how Aza simply wants to be pretty, rather than the pain of the hurtful comments that are directed at her and the psychological effect such things have on a young mind. There's a difference between being self-conscious about one's looks and excessive worrying about one's looks (generally described as "vanity.") Aza falls into the latter category, as she's constantly looking into mirrors to check her reflection, worrying about her clothing, and has formed the habit of putting her hand over her face so that people can't see her. Wouldn't this just attract more attention to herself? (The moral is also somewhat undermined when she is spared by the "huntsman" ordered to kill her because he finds her so beautiful, thanks to a magic potion she took earlier. So... beauty really is important. Without it, she'd be dead.)

The importance placed on beauty in Ayortha also creates problems further on in the story. We're supposed to be concerned when Ivi takes over the palace and begins to meddle with the way things are run, but we're never really given a reason to care about the wellbeing of Ayortha. Apparently it's full of people who ostracize Aza just because she doesn't fit into the social norms, as according to her: "As bad as the ones who stared were the ones who looked away in embarrassment. Some guests didn't want me to serve their food, and some didn't want me to clean their rooms." If this is the way Ayorthians treat "ugly" children, then their kingdom can get invaded by Huns and burnt to the ground for all I care.

Perhaps it's unfair to hold up Fairest against Ella Enchanted, but really, the comparison is inevitable when one considers the differences between the two heroines. Ella burst off the page with liveliness, good humor and zest for adventure, whereas Aza is significantly more sedate and less confident. Nothing wrong with that of course, but Aza turns out to be one of those girls that will just Not. Stop. Crying. She cries when she's happy. She cries when she's sad. She cries when she's embarrassed, or frightened, or nervous. At a crucial point of the story, when she should be (and when her counterpart Ella certainly would be) looking around for weapons or an escape, she simply sits and cries some more. I'm afraid I got fed up with her well before her happily ever after rolls around (did she cry for that too?).

Fairest is set in the same universe as Ella Enchanted, and as such there are several fun references to the earlier book. Aza is the little sister of Areida, who was Ella's best friend at finishing school, and there are mentions of Ella, her father Sir Peter, and Lucinda the fairy (who is behind most of the trouble in this book too!). But unlike the previous book, which shed light on several fantasy idioms and poked gentle fun at the clichés of a fairytale realm, there are several awkward or unwieldy plot devices here that come across as unintentionally funny.

For instance, Ayortha is a singing kingdom, which means that its people "sing" their declarations of love to each other, get together for communal sing-a-longs, and even (as in Aza's case) sing when they're in mortal peril. Sure, it's all in keeping with their culture, but on trying to picture it in your mind, it just seems silly. In another example, King Oscaro is hit on the head with an iron ring and for some reason loses the ability to speak (I'm guessing he's concussed, but wouldn't it have just been easier to say he'd had a stroke?), and later Aza bites into the infamous apple, chokes on her mouthful and...goes into a coma? Say what? The book is full of awkward, strange plot contrivances like these (such as Aza trying to squeeze through a window instead of looking for a door, Aza "grinning" at a man who's just tried to kill her, and a kiss/declaration of love that is abruptly cut short by the couple simply walking away from each other for no apparent reason) that grate on the imagination and make it difficult to really "believe" in what's going on.

Perhaps I'm being too harsh. Like all of Levine's books, Fairest is told in a bright, breezy, eminently readable tone and is certainly entertaining while it lasts. Despite her cry-baby tendencies, Aza's first-person account of her life is sincere and sympathetic, and the world that Levine has created for her characters is just as colourful and charming as it was in Ella. But I know Levine can do better than this. I adored Ella Enchanted, and recommend it to anyone who cares to listen to me, but this follow-up book pales in comparison. Aza is a bit too dim-witted for her own good, and the reason I haven't mentioned much about her romance with Prince Ijari is simply because there isn't all that much to say. I laughed and cried alongside Ella, but all I wanted to do while reading Fairest was hand Aza a tissue and tell her to stop her endless moping. —Rebecca Fisher

Ever — (2008) Ages 9-12. Available for download at Audible.com. Publisher: Falling in love is never easy, but falling in love with an immortal god while your days on earth are numbered is almost more than a young girl can bear. Newbery Honor author Gail Carson Levine has created a stunning new world of flawed gods, unbreakable vows, and ancient omens in this spellbinding story of Kezi, a girl confronted with a terrible destiny. Attempting to thwart her fate, Kezi and her love, Olus — the god of wind and loneliness — embark on a series of dangerous and seemingly impossible quests.

Ever: “It Takes More Courage to be a Mortal than it does to be a God…”

Gail Carson Levine is best known for her retellings of traditional fairytales, (most famously Ella Enchanted) but here she draws on a mythological setting for her inspiration. Despite the fairytale-ish title, Ever takes place in an imaginary world that bears a resemblance to Greek or Middle-Eastern culture, particularly in regard to its climate, customs, clothing and food.

Kezi is a girl nearing her sixteenth birthday, living the simple life with her beloved mother and father, and who likes nothing more than weaving and dancing. Unbeknownst to her, she's being watched by the wind god Olus, a young god who is fascinated by humanity but unsure how to be a part of it. Even more confusing for the him is the fact that Kezi's family is monotheistic and worships a singular God that he has never heard of before. When Kezi's father bargains with his God in order to spare the life of his wife, Olus is horrified to realize that Kezi will be sacrificed in her place. Using his winds to whisk her away, the two youths begin the tasks required of them to ensure that Kezi can obtain immortality: for Olus this involves facing his greatest fear, for Kezi, it is undertaking a dangerous journey down into the Underworld.

The story alternates between short, choppy chapters told in first-person narrative by both Olus and Kezi. Levine thankfully avoids the usual first-person pitfall wherein the narrator ends up sounding incredibly self-absorbed, yet despite having full access to the thoughts and feelings of both Kezi and Olus, we never really seem to get inside their heads.

The biggest problem with Ever is simply that we are never given enough reason to care about the young couple. Sure, they're nice enough kids, but there's no depth to their relationship whatsoever and the entire thing (on Kezi's side in particular) is based on love at first sight and physical attraction. No sooner do they meet in the flesh than they're risking life and limb to be together, without any sort of emotional attachment for the reader to invest in.

However, Levine has some interesting things to say about the existential crisis that she sets up for the protagonists: Kezi in particular struggles with her faith in Admat (the one-god of her people) and her realization that there are other beings known as "gods" that exist in the world. Her search for love is also a search for answers as to whether the God she's been raised to believe is in fact real, and what this means for immortality, death, and the laws of her people. The issues raised are interesting, but don't expect any clear answers or epiphanies to emerge at the conclusion. Levine chooses to end on a rather enigmatic note.

All in all, Ever is not a bad book, just a little... humdrum. At this stage I don't think Levine will ever top the excellence she achieved in Ella Enchanted, a book that contained one of the best ever romances in YA fiction, and certainly Kezi and Olus don't come close to having the same emotional resonance and depth that Char and Ella did.

On a last note, I love the models chosen for the cover art. They look exactly like their counterparts in the text itself: both look like they have naturally olive skin instead of just being white people with a fake tan, and Kezi looks solemn and grave, with Olus rather mischievous and kind. The book should be more like the cover! —Rebecca Fisher