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A review by jeremychiasson
The Flint Heart by John Paterson, Katherine Paterson
2.0
What a wasted opportunity! This had all the makings of a great children's book: Katherine Paterson was adapting a classic fantasy story, and it was to be illustrated by Joe Rocco. What could go wrong?
Well first of all, this book doesn't seem to have an audience in mind. I get it, Paterson. It's cute to make adult references in a kid's book. But how the hell do you explain De Quincey's comments about the music of English prose to children? It's one thing to wink at the parents, it's quite another to push the child aside and speak exclusively to the parent. You're not Pixar, you're pretentious.
Secondly, the story feels as though there is no payoff after the umpteenth time the person who holds the Flint Heart is foiled by the Charles and company:
So this guy gets this magical stone, and normally he's nice, but the stone makes him evil. Then he loses the stone, and becomes nice again.
Now read variations on that idea 3 times, and you'll get the Flint Heart. Once the badger got the stone, I wanted to shout at the book: JUST DESTROY THE DAMN STONE! Stop leaving it lying around! All of your problems would be solved, you dumbass kids!
Aside from the futile plot, the Paterson family spends so much time describing Fairy banquets, its magical food, and all the creatures, but they really couldn't be bothered to develop their main characters. I did not give two shits about Charles and Unity. De Quincey is the most richly drawn character, and he's kind of an asshat. Even the hot water bottle in this story had more personality than the supposed protagonists.
Granted, the illustrations are beautiful, the prose is tight and comical, and there are parts of the story that would be great for reading out loud to kids. But this book got too bogged down in the authors' own self-indulgence, quickly rendering the story's whimsical charm banal. It lacks any sort of focus.
This book seemed less like the work of an established children's author, and more like the draft copy of a talented novice. Maybe her husband/coauthor deserves some of the blame. Who knows?
I would still recommend this to older kids, who are very smart and love fantasy books. As long as they don't mind having their parents read to them. I feel like the brief glimmers of brilliance, make it worth a read, even if it will never be a classic like "Bridge to Terabithia".
Well first of all, this book doesn't seem to have an audience in mind. I get it, Paterson. It's cute to make adult references in a kid's book. But how the hell do you explain De Quincey's comments about the music of English prose to children? It's one thing to wink at the parents, it's quite another to push the child aside and speak exclusively to the parent. You're not Pixar, you're pretentious.
Secondly, the story feels as though there is no payoff after the umpteenth time the person who holds the Flint Heart is foiled by the Charles and company:
So this guy gets this magical stone, and normally he's nice, but the stone makes him evil. Then he loses the stone, and becomes nice again.
Now read variations on that idea 3 times, and you'll get the Flint Heart. Once the badger got the stone, I wanted to shout at the book: JUST DESTROY THE DAMN STONE! Stop leaving it lying around! All of your problems would be solved, you dumbass kids!
Aside from the futile plot, the Paterson family spends so much time describing Fairy banquets, its magical food, and all the creatures, but they really couldn't be bothered to develop their main characters. I did not give two shits about Charles and Unity. De Quincey is the most richly drawn character, and he's kind of an asshat. Even the hot water bottle in this story had more personality than the supposed protagonists.
Granted, the illustrations are beautiful, the prose is tight and comical, and there are parts of the story that would be great for reading out loud to kids. But this book got too bogged down in the authors' own self-indulgence, quickly rendering the story's whimsical charm banal. It lacks any sort of focus.
This book seemed less like the work of an established children's author, and more like the draft copy of a talented novice. Maybe her husband/coauthor deserves some of the blame. Who knows?
I would still recommend this to older kids, who are very smart and love fantasy books. As long as they don't mind having their parents read to them. I feel like the brief glimmers of brilliance, make it worth a read, even if it will never be a classic like "Bridge to Terabithia".