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Out of Position

Furry Book Reviews - Wed 28 Jan 2009 - 20:27


I've reviewed many of Kyell Gold's books in the past. I almost wasn't going to do one for Out of Position, out of the notion that I should give someone else a shot, first, but given how popular the book seems to have been right at its release, I'm going to guess that reviews will be popping up everywhere soon enough, and I have no reason not to add my voice to the pile.

As a brief disclaimer, first: it's probably no big secret, especially to Kyell's fans, that he and I are very close friends, but as a fellow writer, I try to keep my bias out of my literary opinions as much as I can. Also, I did do some work helping to edit Out of Position, as well, but I'll come back to that point later.

Now, on to the review proper:

Out of Position is fairly unique for one of Gold's novels in that it's the first book that he has written that really has a contemporary adult theme to it; Waterways (set in the same fictional universe) handles the young adult angle, but Out of Position is more about grown-ups and the problems that a relationship can have in the real, grown-up world.

The story concerns a tiger named Devlin Miski, a tiger who plays football for Forester University, and his fateful run-in with a tricky, sneaky (and very sexy) fox, Wiley "Lee" Farrel. Initially seduced by Lee in all-too-convincing drag, Dev ends up having his first sexual encounter with another male, and is forced to reevaluate first his sexuality, and then the other values in his life.

From there, the plot follows both Dev and Lee (through switching perspectives) over the course of their growing relationship. What starts with a one-night-stand (and revenge plot) turns into a very serious relationship that has more than a fair share of bumps for both of our protagonists. What really makes the book click is the expert way that real-life relationship problems are handled: they have stupid fights where both of them are in the wrong; pressure from family and friends force folks to make tough decisions; school and sports and a whole bunch of other things keep trying to get in the way.

If Waterways is the story of figuring out who you are and how to go out and face the world, then Out of Position is the story about being out there in the world and being forced to deal with all of its pressures while still staying true to yourself and the people you love--and the very tricky art of finding the balance between those things.

Football plays a very big part in the book, but as Gold himself states in the introduction, it's not a story about football. Since (again, as Gold himself points out) most gay furry romance readers probably aren't huge football fans, it's worth pointing out that the story is, at its core, a gay furry romance novel and not a piece of sports fiction. Early in the book, there's even a nice, succinct, very helpful aside that explains football in a brief overview that only lasts two pages and which should give even the most clueless reader enough knowledge of the sport to understand the references in the rest of the book. So, fret not, gentle readers: don't let the big, scary football stuff scare you off. (Besides, look at that cover, and tell me that Dev doesn't look delicious in that uniform.)

That's another thing that definitely warrants mentioning: this is a very, very sexy book. The two main characters are very confused and conflicted, and this leads to quite a lot of pent-up emotions and outbursts of passion, and Mr. Gold has outdone himself, more than once, in putting together some truly arousing sex scenes this time around. Whereas Waterways more just touched the surface of youthful sexuality, Out of Position gets good and explicit quite a number of times, and the quality of those scenes is something that no connoisseur of furry erotica need worry about.

As sexy as the book is, though, the emotional heart of it is even stronger. During the last quarter of the book, I got choked up repeatedly, even when reading sections of it in public. It's a beautiful story--unquestionably Gold's best--and I daren't spoil any more details of it here. In the aforementioned process of helping to edit the book, I read the bulk of it no fewer than three or four times, and never got sick of it or felt like any of it lost its impact.

The end result is a spectacular read that paints some terrific characters, gives a top-notch romantic story, and includes some really great written erotica on top like the cherry on the proverbial sundae (and that's not even including the gorgeous interior illustrations by Blotch, either!). Fans of Kyell Gold's work cannot go wrong by checking this book out. Gay furry romance fans who don't think that the written part of our fandom is worth taking a look at ought to take a look at this to see how it's done.

Out of Position

Furry Book Reviews - Wed 28 Jan 2009 - 20:27


I've reviewed many of Kyell Gold's books in the past. I almost wasn't going to do one for Out of Position, out of the notion that I should give someone else a shot, first, but given how popular the book seems to have been right at its release, I'm going to guess that reviews will be popping up everywhere soon enough, and I have no reason not to add my voice to the pile.

As a brief disclaimer, first: it's probably no big secret, especially to Kyell's fans, that he and I are very close friends, but as a fellow writer, I try to keep my bias out of my literary opinions as much as I can. Also, I did do some work helping to edit Out of Position, as well, but I'll come back to that point later.

Now, on to the review proper:

Out of Position is fairly unique for one of Gold's novels in that it's the first book that he has written that really has a contemporary adult theme to it; Waterways (set in the same fictional universe) handles the young adult angle, but Out of Position is more about grown-ups and the problems that a relationship can have in the real, grown-up world.

The story concerns a tiger named Devlin Miski, a tiger who plays football for Forester University, and his fateful run-in with a tricky, sneaky (and very sexy) fox, Wiley "Lee" Farrel. Initially seduced by Lee in all-too-convincing drag, Dev ends up having his first sexual encounter with another male, and is forced to reevaluate first his sexuality, and then the other values in his life.

From there, the plot follows both Dev and Lee (through switching perspectives) over the course of their growing relationship. What starts with a one-night-stand (and revenge plot) turns into a very serious relationship that has more than a fair share of bumps for both of our protagonists. What really makes the book click is the expert way that real-life relationship problems are handled: they have stupid fights where both of them are in the wrong; pressure from family and friends force folks to make tough decisions; school and sports and a whole bunch of other things keep trying to get in the way.

If Waterways is the story of figuring out who you are and how to go out and face the world, then Out of Position is the story about being out there in the world and being forced to deal with all of its pressures while still staying true to yourself and the people you love--and the very tricky art of finding the balance between those things.

Football plays a very big part in the book, but as Gold himself states in the introduction, it's not a story about football. Since (again, as Gold himself points out) most gay furry romance readers probably aren't huge football fans, it's worth pointing out that the story is, at its core, a gay furry romance novel and not a piece of sports fiction. Early in the book, there's even a nice, succinct, very helpful aside that explains football in a brief overview that only lasts two pages and which should give even the most clueless reader enough knowledge of the sport to understand the references in the rest of the book. So, fret not, gentle readers: don't let the big, scary football stuff scare you off. (Besides, look at that cover, and tell me that Dev doesn't look delicious in that uniform.)

That's another thing that definitely warrants mentioning: this is a very, very sexy book. The two main characters are very confused and conflicted, and this leads to quite a lot of pent-up emotions and outbursts of passion, and Mr. Gold has outdone himself, more than once, in putting together some truly arousing sex scenes this time around. Whereas Waterways more just touched the surface of youthful sexuality, Out of Position gets good and explicit quite a number of times, and the quality of those scenes is something that no connoisseur of furry erotica need worry about.

As sexy as the book is, though, the emotional heart of it is even stronger. During the last quarter of the book, I got choked up repeatedly, even when reading sections of it in public. It's a beautiful story--unquestionably Gold's best--and I daren't spoil any more details of it here. In the aforementioned process of helping to edit the book, I read the bulk of it no fewer than three or four times, and never got sick of it or felt like any of it lost its impact.

The end result is a spectacular read that paints some terrific characters, gives a top-notch romantic story, and includes some really great written erotica on top like the cherry on the proverbial sundae (and that's not even including the gorgeous interior illustrations by Blotch, either!). Fans of Kyell Gold's work cannot go wrong by checking this book out. Gay furry romance fans who don't think that the written part of our fandom is worth taking a look at ought to take a look at this to see how it's done.

Analogues - 001 - Jan 07, 2009

Analogues - Thu 8 Jan 2009 - 14:18

Pilot episode of Analogues, recorded January 7, 2009."Stick Figures" © AnimusicAll other content ©2009 Tanuke Media Analogues - 001 - Jan 07, 2009
Categories: Podcasts

Rumo & His Miraculous Adventures

Furry Book Reviews - Thu 14 Aug 2008 - 13:40
Rumo & His Miraculous Adventures
By Walter Moers
Translated from the German by John Brownjohn
2006 The Overlook Press
ISBN: 1-58567-725-6

Since Rumo & His Miraculous Adventures by Walter Moers is a fantasy epic, Rumo, our protagonist, is of course an orphan. In the first book of the novel, he is taken from his home by monsters and imprisoned in a tower, learns to be a warrior, and eventually escapes. In the second book, now grown, he sets out to rescue his love who was kidnapped by forces of evil. This is quite possibly the oldest fantasy plot there is—it certainly seems the most common, but this is not always a bad thing.

In his 1973 interview with documentarian Richard Schickel, Alfred Hitchcock argued that the plots of all his films were at their heart entirely predictable and formulaic—and that the reason the films themselves aren’t repetitive and dull is entirely due to characterization. It is the individuals in these films--their motivations, emotions, impulses and thoughts that make a work unique and indeed alive. Hitchcock so believed in this concept that he coined the term MacGuffin, an item or plot device that is the motivation for the characters in the film, but is of little or no importance to the audience when compared to the actions of the characters themselves.

Though the tools used to create rich and layered characters in film differ from the techniques used in the novel, the central importance of characterization in a work does not, for novels invariably tell the same sorts of tales time and again, and in this Rumo is no different. Fortunately, for all of us, Walter Moers populates Rumo with an endless variety of bizarre and interesting people, who though caught in webs of larger events, pursue their own agendas under the weight of their own emotions, neuroses, and histories. It is the richness of the world and the characters that Moers peoples it with that make Rumo rise above the great mass of fantasy novels.

Moers was a long time comic and graphic novel writer in and illustrator in Germany before he began writing novels set in the fictional continent of Zamonia. He is obviously enjoys a high degree of familiarity with the conventions of the fantasy genre, and he grabs the reader right from the start by turning one such fantasy convention slightly on its side. Like so many fantasy heroes in recent years, Rumo is an orphan (see Harry Potter, Sabriel, The Golden Compass, to name but a few). Authors do this of course so that their young protagonists can act like adults. They are free to make their own choices. One also gets the feeling that authors sometimes make their heroes orphans to do gain a hair more of the reader’s sympathy as well!

Rumo is different from most fantast orphans because his orphan-hood is not tragic, but rather a part of who his people are. Rumo is a Wolperting, half dog-half deer, and looks like a large dog with small horns on his head. Stories of the species are native to Moers’ Germany in the way that tales of jackalopes are told in the Southwestern United States. Wolpertings abandon all their children in forests soon after they are born, and the reason they do this is extraordinary. Some Wolpertings stay wild animals their whole lives, living as dumb beasts in the forest. Others, such as Rumo, make a conscious choice to become people. They decide to walk upright, talk, and eventually make their way to the city of Wolperting. In short sentience is not automatic, but rather a choice. Because of the recognition of this choice, because it had to be done se he could become a Wolperting, Rumo never feels tortured over his lost parents, and this is a rather refreshing change for a book in the fantasy genre. It is simply bad luck that no sooner than Rumo chooses to be a person he is kidnapped by cannibals, taken to their floating island, and the adventure begins in earnest.

It is Rumo’s journey to becoming a person that is the dominant thread of the first book of the novel. In this, he is guided by Volzotan Smyke, the shark-grub, the first of the many rather bizarre characters Rumo encounters over the course of his journeys. When introducing a new character Moers does something that could be very distracting—he pauses Rumo’s story and tells each new character’s story up to the point they meet Rumo—how they got there and perhaps where they want to go. He even sets out a note in the margins introducing the story each time one is told. These little asides could be detrimental to the overall novel, breaking the flow of the story. However, each character’s story is paid such beautiful and detailed attention that it becomes more than an aside. Even the minor characters have richly detailed and complicated lives and their tales provide essential information in many cases, as these characters will very often re-enter Rumo’s story later on, and their motivations in the present become clear in the light of their past histories. It’s a rather unconventional technique, but it works, in large part because Moers creates such a strong main plot arc that these diversions enrich rather than pull one away from the overall story.

Part of the joy of Rumo’s discovering what it means to be a person is that he becomes a Wolperting person, and not a human person. K.M. Hirosaki, among others, has pointed out that often in furry literature species is simply a “cosmetic veneer” playing little role in advancing either plot or characterization. Moers, though not a furry (as far as I know) makes no such mistake. Being a Wolperting is a unique experience, as is being a shark-grub, a clockwork warrior, or an undead ice yeti. The world of Wolpertings is one filled with marks of personhood—speech, literature, studies, warfare, love, even bureaucracy, but in ways that make each of these things distinctly Wolperting. Moers very effectively is able to convey how Wolpertings use their senses in ways that are radically different from humans or the other people of the continent of Zamonia. My favorite device is that young male Wolpertings follow a “silver thread” of scent when they close their eyes that leads them over hundreds of miles to their future mate.

Walter Moers writing also has a highly humorous style; comparable at times to Lewis Carroll—there are innumerable moments while reading where one is overcome by laughter. This is counterpointed by moments of cruelty and violence however, particularly in book two, where Rumo journeys deep into the underworld and the violence more than anything (but also the vocabulary level and length at 687 pages) make this not a book for children. However, its playfulness and grand adventure style makes it strongly reminiscent of those books we enjoyed as children. The translation of the book from its original German by John Brownjohn is also a strong point. I have not read the original, but the language of the English version is artful, idiomatic, and at no time feels like a translation.

Ultimately, Rumo & His Miraculous Adventures is a very good book. It falls short of being a ‘great’ book in that there are no profound ideas explored, apart from perhaps the already aforementioned choosing to be a person as a child, and it doesn’t make one think in ways that the truly great books do. That said it more than accomplishes what it sets out to do, providing a rollicking and diverting grand adventure. It is a joyful book, a celebration of being alive in a bizarre world. It was difficult to put down, and passes that perhaps greatest test of any book for me—when I finished it I had that feeling of “So now what do I do with my life?”

-Skip Ruddertail

Rumo & His Miraculous Adventures

Furry Book Reviews - Thu 14 Aug 2008 - 13:40
Rumo & His Miraculous Adventures
By Walter Moers
Translated from the German by John Brownjohn
2006 The Overlook Press
ISBN: 1-58567-725-6

Since Rumo & His Miraculous Adventures by Walter Moers is a fantasy epic, Rumo, our protagonist, is of course an orphan. In the first book of the novel, he is taken from his home by monsters and imprisoned in a tower, learns to be a warrior, and eventually escapes. In the second book, now grown, he sets out to rescue his love who was kidnapped by forces of evil. This is quite possibly the oldest fantasy plot there is—it certainly seems the most common, but this is not always a bad thing.

In his 1973 interview with documentarian Richard Schickel, Alfred Hitchcock argued that the plots of all his films were at their heart entirely predictable and formulaic—and that the reason the films themselves aren’t repetitive and dull is entirely due to characterization. It is the individuals in these films--their motivations, emotions, impulses and thoughts that make a work unique and indeed alive. Hitchcock so believed in this concept that he coined the term MacGuffin, an item or plot device that is the motivation for the characters in the film, but is of little or no importance to the audience when compared to the actions of the characters themselves.

Though the tools used to create rich and layered characters in film differ from the techniques used in the novel, the central importance of characterization in a work does not, for novels invariably tell the same sorts of tales time and again, and in this Rumo is no different. Fortunately, for all of us, Walter Moers populates Rumo with an endless variety of bizarre and interesting people, who though caught in webs of larger events, pursue their own agendas under the weight of their own emotions, neuroses, and histories. It is the richness of the world and the characters that Moers peoples it with that make Rumo rise above the great mass of fantasy novels.

Moers was a long time comic and graphic novel writer in and illustrator in Germany before he began writing novels set in the fictional continent of Zamonia. He is obviously enjoys a high degree of familiarity with the conventions of the fantasy genre, and he grabs the reader right from the start by turning one such fantasy convention slightly on its side. Like so many fantasy heroes in recent years, Rumo is an orphan (see Harry Potter, Sabriel, The Golden Compass, to name but a few). Authors do this of course so that their young protagonists can act like adults. They are free to make their own choices. One also gets the feeling that authors sometimes make their heroes orphans to do gain a hair more of the reader’s sympathy as well!

Rumo is different from most fantast orphans because his orphan-hood is not tragic, but rather a part of who his people are. Rumo is a Wolperting, half dog-half deer, and looks like a large dog with small horns on his head. Stories of the species are native to Moers’ Germany in the way that tales of jackalopes are told in the Southwestern United States. Wolpertings abandon all their children in forests soon after they are born, and the reason they do this is extraordinary. Some Wolpertings stay wild animals their whole lives, living as dumb beasts in the forest. Others, such as Rumo, make a conscious choice to become people. They decide to walk upright, talk, and eventually make their way to the city of Wolperting. In short sentience is not automatic, but rather a choice. Because of the recognition of this choice, because it had to be done se he could become a Wolperting, Rumo never feels tortured over his lost parents, and this is a rather refreshing change for a book in the fantasy genre. It is simply bad luck that no sooner than Rumo chooses to be a person he is kidnapped by cannibals, taken to their floating island, and the adventure begins in earnest.

It is Rumo’s journey to becoming a person that is the dominant thread of the first book of the novel. In this, he is guided by Volzotan Smyke, the shark-grub, the first of the many rather bizarre characters Rumo encounters over the course of his journeys. When introducing a new character Moers does something that could be very distracting—he pauses Rumo’s story and tells each new character’s story up to the point they meet Rumo—how they got there and perhaps where they want to go. He even sets out a note in the margins introducing the story each time one is told. These little asides could be detrimental to the overall novel, breaking the flow of the story. However, each character’s story is paid such beautiful and detailed attention that it becomes more than an aside. Even the minor characters have richly detailed and complicated lives and their tales provide essential information in many cases, as these characters will very often re-enter Rumo’s story later on, and their motivations in the present become clear in the light of their past histories. It’s a rather unconventional technique, but it works, in large part because Moers creates such a strong main plot arc that these diversions enrich rather than pull one away from the overall story.

Part of the joy of Rumo’s discovering what it means to be a person is that he becomes a Wolperting person, and not a human person. K.M. Hirosaki, among others, has pointed out that often in furry literature species is simply a “cosmetic veneer” playing little role in advancing either plot or characterization. Moers, though not a furry (as far as I know) makes no such mistake. Being a Wolperting is a unique experience, as is being a shark-grub, a clockwork warrior, or an undead ice yeti. The world of Wolpertings is one filled with marks of personhood—speech, literature, studies, warfare, love, even bureaucracy, but in ways that make each of these things distinctly Wolperting. Moers very effectively is able to convey how Wolpertings use their senses in ways that are radically different from humans or the other people of the continent of Zamonia. My favorite device is that young male Wolpertings follow a “silver thread” of scent when they close their eyes that leads them over hundreds of miles to their future mate.

Walter Moers writing also has a highly humorous style; comparable at times to Lewis Carroll—there are innumerable moments while reading where one is overcome by laughter. This is counterpointed by moments of cruelty and violence however, particularly in book two, where Rumo journeys deep into the underworld and the violence more than anything (but also the vocabulary level and length at 687 pages) make this not a book for children. However, its playfulness and grand adventure style makes it strongly reminiscent of those books we enjoyed as children. The translation of the book from its original German by John Brownjohn is also a strong point. I have not read the original, but the language of the English version is artful, idiomatic, and at no time feels like a translation.

Ultimately, Rumo & His Miraculous Adventures is a very good book. It falls short of being a ‘great’ book in that there are no profound ideas explored, apart from perhaps the already aforementioned choosing to be a person as a child, and it doesn’t make one think in ways that the truly great books do. That said it more than accomplishes what it sets out to do, providing a rollicking and diverting grand adventure. It is a joyful book, a celebration of being alive in a bizarre world. It was difficult to put down, and passes that perhaps greatest test of any book for me—when I finished it I had that feeling of “So now what do I do with my life?”

-Skip Ruddertail

Nurk, the (Somewhat) Brave Little Shrew

Furry Book Reviews - Fri 1 Aug 2008 - 15:15
Though Harcourt blurbs it as a "first novel," most of us will probably know that artist and author Ursula Vernon (ursulav) has already published several books, including multiple volumes of her comic/graphic novel Digger and Black Dogs which I take to be intended as the first volume of a series. In one sense, though, Harcourt is correct. Nurk: the Strange, Surprising Adventures of a (Somewhat) Brave Shrew (Harcourt Children's, $15.00, ISBN: 978-0152063757) is written for a juvenile audience, and is Vernon's first published venture in that particular field.

Don't dismiss the book as merely kid stuff, though. The author's droll wit and ironic sense of humor is clearly evident in a manner that will tickle the fancy of the adult reader as well. Nurkus Aurelius Alonzo Electron Maximilian Shrew (no wonder everyone shortens it to just plain "Nurk") is an orphan, having lost his parents when they were eaten by owls (shades of Mervyn Peake's Lord Sepulchrave) under unclear circumstances. He continues to live alone in his family's former home at the base of a large willow tree on the river bank, loosely watched by a great aunt who "looks in" on him once or twice a week. Though he is quite self-sufficient, he yearns to follow the example of his grandmother, Surka Aurelia Maxine Shrew, whose portrait hangs in the front hall of his home. Surka was noted for her ferocious and adventurous nature, evidenced by the fact that the artist portrayed her holding a sword and a severed head in her hands. Nurk isn't quite sure he has the courage to achieve his goal, though, and certainly he has never been far from home.

When a grumpy hummingbird arrives to deliver a letter with a smeared address that appears to direct it to "...URK... UPSTREAM" Nurk assumes it is intended for himself and manages to convince the suspicious bird to hand it over. After he opens it and reads a waterstained plea for help, he realizes that it was in fact intended for none other than Surka, who has been missing for several years and presumed dead. In a quandary for what to do now that he has opened and read a letter never intended for his eyes, and that he can't deliver to the intended recipient, the young shrew seeks advice from his friend the salamander, who tells him to return the letter to the sender. This is easier said than done, since there is no return address or signature. Finally Nurk decides he has no other choice, and prepares for his journey downstream by converting an empty snail shell to a boat and provisioning it suitably, not only with food and drink, but with plenty of clean, dry socks.

Carried by the current, he soon finds himself entangled in any number of small adventures, but the real story unfolds only after he rescues a waterlogged dragonfly princess named Scatterwings. It turns out that Scatterwings herself is the letter writer, and her family needs help to rescue her brother, Prince Flicker, who is being held captive by the Grizzlemole, a blind wizard "half the size of a mountain." I'll let the prospective reader discover the outcome of the quest, the nature of the odd difficulties encountered by Nurk on his way, and the wry witticisms introduced by Vernon as she relates the tale. Naturally, the author has provided the jacket art and internal black and white drawings herself, and they complement the story very well.

I believe this book is deliberately left open for sequels in which we may get to meet Surka Aurelia Maxine Shrew as well, and I look forward to the experience. The fact that Nurk reaches the end of his adventures without using a sword or severing any heads does not reflect badly upon him, and I suspect that his grandmother Surka will eventually be convinced of that too (though perhaps not at first.) While Surka may well resemble the ferocious shrew clans of Brian Jacques' Redwall stories, Nurk has started out more in the character of Kenneth Grahame's Mole, a mild-mannered creature who follows a yearning in his heart and gets much more than he thought he was seeking. I recommend this book to any reader who appreciates small creatures who can get into terrifying situations and yet see the ironic humor of their self-induced plights.

Rating: 4 of 5 possible apples

Nurk, the (Somewhat) Brave Little Shrew

Furry Book Reviews - Fri 1 Aug 2008 - 15:15
Though Harcourt blurbs it as a "first novel," most of us will probably know that artist and author Ursula Vernon (ursulav) has already published several books, including multiple volumes of her comic/graphic novel Digger and Black Dogs which I take to be intended as the first volume of a series. In one sense, though, Harcourt is correct. Nurk: the Strange, Surprising Adventures of a (Somewhat) Brave Shrew (Harcourt Children's, $15.00, ISBN: 978-0152063757) is written for a juvenile audience, and is Vernon's first published venture in that particular field.

Don't dismiss the book as merely kid stuff, though. The author's droll wit and ironic sense of humor is clearly evident in a manner that will tickle the fancy of the adult reader as well. Nurkus Aurelius Alonzo Electron Maximilian Shrew (no wonder everyone shortens it to just plain "Nurk") is an orphan, having lost his parents when they were eaten by owls (shades of Mervyn Peake's Lord Sepulchrave) under unclear circumstances. He continues to live alone in his family's former home at the base of a large willow tree on the river bank, loosely watched by a great aunt who "looks in" on him once or twice a week. Though he is quite self-sufficient, he yearns to follow the example of his grandmother, Surka Aurelia Maxine Shrew, whose portrait hangs in the front hall of his home. Surka was noted for her ferocious and adventurous nature, evidenced by the fact that the artist portrayed her holding a sword and a severed head in her hands. Nurk isn't quite sure he has the courage to achieve his goal, though, and certainly he has never been far from home.

When a grumpy hummingbird arrives to deliver a letter with a smeared address that appears to direct it to "...URK... UPSTREAM" Nurk assumes it is intended for himself and manages to convince the suspicious bird to hand it over. After he opens it and reads a waterstained plea for help, he realizes that it was in fact intended for none other than Surka, who has been missing for several years and presumed dead. In a quandary for what to do now that he has opened and read a letter never intended for his eyes, and that he can't deliver to the intended recipient, the young shrew seeks advice from his friend the salamander, who tells him to return the letter to the sender. This is easier said than done, since there is no return address or signature. Finally Nurk decides he has no other choice, and prepares for his journey downstream by converting an empty snail shell to a boat and provisioning it suitably, not only with food and drink, but with plenty of clean, dry socks.

Carried by the current, he soon finds himself entangled in any number of small adventures, but the real story unfolds only after he rescues a waterlogged dragonfly princess named Scatterwings. It turns out that Scatterwings herself is the letter writer, and her family needs help to rescue her brother, Prince Flicker, who is being held captive by the Grizzlemole, a blind wizard "half the size of a mountain." I'll let the prospective reader discover the outcome of the quest, the nature of the odd difficulties encountered by Nurk on his way, and the wry witticisms introduced by Vernon as she relates the tale. Naturally, the author has provided the jacket art and internal black and white drawings herself, and they complement the story very well.

I believe this book is deliberately left open for sequels in which we may get to meet Surka Aurelia Maxine Shrew as well, and I look forward to the experience. The fact that Nurk reaches the end of his adventures without using a sword or severing any heads does not reflect badly upon him, and I suspect that his grandmother Surka will eventually be convinced of that too (though perhaps not at first.) While Surka may well resemble the ferocious shrew clans of Brian Jacques' Redwall stories, Nurk has started out more in the character of Kenneth Grahame's Mole, a mild-mannered creature who follows a yearning in his heart and gets much more than he thought he was seeking. I recommend this book to any reader who appreciates small creatures who can get into terrifying situations and yet see the ironic humor of their self-induced plights.

Rating: 4 of 5 possible apples