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Nutcracker
After hearing how her toy nutcracker got his ugly face, a little girl helps break the spell and changes him into a handsome prince
- GenresPicture BooksChildrens
40 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1991
7 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
April 23, 2018
This story is wonderful, and Fiona Black's retelling is captivating and new making this story come alive once more as if hearing it for the first time. The illustrations and development is wonderful all on its own.
Great and just magical.
Great and just magical.
August 15, 2014
I can't believe I forgot about this book.
It was the book I loved before I even knew you could love a book.
I remember begging my mom to let me keep it instead of forcing me to bring it back to the library on wheels. My school was so small we didn't have a library. The library on wheels came by a grand total of twice, and each time, I tried to hide inside so that I could "stay with the books". (Six-year-old me had to be dragged weeping from the bus. I yelled at my mom that I wanted to stay with the books. Six-year-old me was so much more fun than nineteen-year-old me.)
Unfortunately, I don't remember quite as clearly the book itself. I don't remember the whole story. I don't remember the characters. I don't remember the writing, and I don't even remember whether or not there were pictures inside.
What I do remember is the feeling I got reading the Nutcracker - it was the feeling of Christmas drawing near, of coming home to find my father lighting a fire, of drinking hot chocolate in december, of cuddling with my sisters under a blanket before going to sleep and of waking up to find the hills covered with snow.
The Nutcracker was everything my childhood was ever going to be and everything I'd kill to remember forever about said childhood. If I ever have children, I'll read it to them. I'll get them a copy of a book that makes them feel just like I did reading the Nutcracker, and make sure they feel free to cuddle with it instead of using that smelly old blanket full of holes.
Actually, screw that. I'm going to buy a copy of this book for myself right now. Hoping my boring nineteen-year-old self will love it as much as my dramatic but eager to love six-year-old self did - and if it fails, well, I'll comfort myself with the knowledge that six-year-old me loved the fuck out of this book.
It was the book I loved before I even knew you could love a book.
I remember begging my mom to let me keep it instead of forcing me to bring it back to the library on wheels. My school was so small we didn't have a library. The library on wheels came by a grand total of twice, and each time, I tried to hide inside so that I could "stay with the books". (Six-year-old me had to be dragged weeping from the bus. I yelled at my mom that I wanted to stay with the books. Six-year-old me was so much more fun than nineteen-year-old me.)
Unfortunately, I don't remember quite as clearly the book itself. I don't remember the whole story. I don't remember the characters. I don't remember the writing, and I don't even remember whether or not there were pictures inside.
What I do remember is the feeling I got reading the Nutcracker - it was the feeling of Christmas drawing near, of coming home to find my father lighting a fire, of drinking hot chocolate in december, of cuddling with my sisters under a blanket before going to sleep and of waking up to find the hills covered with snow.
The Nutcracker was everything my childhood was ever going to be and everything I'd kill to remember forever about said childhood. If I ever have children, I'll read it to them. I'll get them a copy of a book that makes them feel just like I did reading the Nutcracker, and make sure they feel free to cuddle with it instead of using that smelly old blanket full of holes.
Actually, screw that. I'm going to buy a copy of this book for myself right now. Hoping my boring nineteen-year-old self will love it as much as my dramatic but eager to love six-year-old self did - and if it fails, well, I'll comfort myself with the knowledge that six-year-old me loved the fuck out of this book.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews