Available:*
Library | Call Number | Status |
|---|---|---|
Searching... Hardwood Creek Library (Forest Lake) | SCD J FICTION SHU 7 DISCS | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | SCD J FICTION SHU 7 DISCS | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Stillwater Public Library | SCD J FICTION SHU 7 DISCS | Searching... Unknown |
Bound With These Titles
On Order
Summary
Summary
This funny fractured fairy tale goes behind the scenes of Rumpelstiltskin. New York Times Bestselling author Liesl Shurtliff "spins words into gold [Kirby Larson, Newbery Honor winner]."
In a magic kingdom where your name is your destiny, 12-year-old Rump is the butt of everyone's joke. But when he finds an old spinning wheel, his luck seems to change. Rump discovers he has a gift for spinning straw into gold. His best friend, Red Riding Hood, warns him that magic is dangerous, and she's right. With each thread he spins, he weaves himself deeper into a curse.
To break the spell, Rump must go on a perilous quest, fighting off pixies, trolls, poison apples, and a wickedly foolish queen. The odds are against him, but with courage and friendship--and a cheeky sense of humor--he just might triumph in the end.
A Texas Bluebonnet finalist and winner of the ILA award for middle grade fiction, Rump is perfect for fans of Gail Carson Levine's Ella Enchanted or Adam Gidwitz's A Tale Dark and Grimm . And don't miss Liesl Shurtliff's other fairy tale retellings: Jack: The True Story of Jack and the Beanstalk and Red: The True Story of Red Riding Hood .
" A fresh riff on the Grimm Brothers' Rumpelstiltskin , told with wit from the impish point of view of the troublemaker himself. " -- People
" Lighthearted and inventive , Rump amusingly expands a classic tale." --Brandon Mull, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Fablehaven.
Author Notes
Liesl Shurtliff is the writer of RUMP: The True Story of Rumpelstiltskin, a New York Times Best Seller in 2016, a Texas Bluebonnet Master List Selection, and awarded the International Reading Association Children's and Young Adult Book Award.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (5)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Debut author Shurtliff upends the traditional characterization of this fairy tale's antihero, recasting Rumpelstiltskin as a sympathetic and tragically doomed protagonist. His mother dies shortly after childbirth and only manages to utter half a name, Rump, making him the butt of jokes and also influencing his fate. "In The Kingdom your name isn't just what people call you. Your name is full of meaning and power. Your name is your destiny," he explains. The author effectively builds the devastating events-including the death of his Gran, hunger, and hopelessness-that lead Rump to discover his ability to spin straw into gold, riches he trades to the town swindler, the miller. When the miller lies to the king and tells him his daughter possesses this ability, Rump steals into the castle to help her, trading magic for trinkets until she offers her firstborn, which the rules of magic dictate he must accept. Shurtliff fills Rump's world with common magic and deadpan humor; the picaresque-style narrative gives the maligned character a refreshingly plainspoken voice, while honoring the original story's hauntingly strange events. Ages 8-12. Agent: Michelle Andelman, Regal Literary. (Apr.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Horn Book Review
Twelve-year-old Rump thinks he's finally found luck when he discovers that he can spin straw into gold. But this magical gift begins to seem more like a curse, and Rump embarks on a quest to find his true name and destiny. Plenty of danger and action along the way--pixie bites, troll abductions, and more--widen the appeal of this droll boy-centered fairy tale. (c) Copyright 2013. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Booklist Review
Twelve-year-old Rump lives with his grandmother in a mountain village where he endures endless teasing about his name. When he discovers that he can spin straw into gold, he hopes to end their poverty and hunger. Unfortunately, the troublesome magic forces him to accept anything offered in trade for the gold: a sack of flour, a cheap ring, or a queen's firstborn child. Rump leaves home to discover his true name. While on his quest, he finds the knowledge, insight, and courage he needs to understand his gift and claim his destiny. Weaving details from Rumpelstiltskin into an accessible novel, Shurtliff makes the old villain into a young hero and creates an inventive story that extends and embroiders on the original fairy tale. In an era when fantasy often takes the form of high-octane adventure, this story offers a measured pace and the reassuring notion that a hero need not always rely on magic if he has his wits about him.--Phelan, Carolyn Copyright 2010 Booklist
School Library Journal Review
Gr 3-6-A beguiling take on a classic tale. In The Kingdom, one's name is full of meaning and power, and young Rump is sure that his is incomplete. Just before his mother died in childbirth, she only managed to utter, "His name is Rump.." And so Rump grows up with his grandmother, mining the mountain for specks of gold for their greedy king and suffering ridicule for his name. Shurtliff's world-building is inventive and immediately believable: gnomes rush about delivering messages they have somewhat memorized, gold-craving pixies are flying and biting nuisances, and wise witches live in the woods, as does a band of huge smelly trolls. All the elements of the original story are here-the greedy miller, the somewhat dimwitted daughter, and Rump's magical ability to spin straw into gold-but Shurtliff fleshes out the boy's backstory, developing an appealing hero who is coping with the curse of his magical skills while searching for his true name and destiny. This captivating fantasy has action, emotional depth, and lots of humor.-Caroline Ward, The Ferguson Library, Stamford, CT (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
Shurtliff turns the Rumpelstiltskin tale on end, providing the heartbreaking yet humorous history of the manikin's dilemma. When he is born, his mother only manages to say part of his name before she passes: "Rump." His name becomes the source of teasing, and while Rump can appreciate the humor--sometimes--he is concerned. His name is his destiny; how can he grow when he does not know his full name? To his surprise, Rump also discovers he can spin straw into gold--a curse, since when Rump trades the gold, he must accept whatever is offered. Using a crisp, cheeky tone and with the back story meticulously built, the landscape mapped out and the characters in place (including some nods to other fairy-tale denizens), Rump's romp begins. The miller is greedy and worsens the situation when he tells the king that it is his daughter who spins gold. Rump tries to save her, but she is frustratingly fatuous and makes terrible trades (a baby!). Witches do not offer much advice, other than "Watch your step." When Rump learns that he must find a "stiltskin" to break the curse, it may also be the clue he needs to figure out his name. In his moment of triumph, children will want to dance alongside the unlikely, likable hero. As good as gold. (author's note) (Fantasy. 8-12)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Excerpts
My mother named me after a cow's rear end. It's the favorite village joke, and probably the only one, but it's not really true. At least I don't think it's true, and neither does Gran. Really, my mother had another name for me, a wonderful name, but no one ever heard it. They only heard the first part. The worst part. Mother had been very ill when I was born. Gran said she was fevered and coughing and I came before I was supposed to. Still, my mother held me close and whispered my name in my ear. No one heard it but me. "His name?" Gran asked. "Tell me his name." "His name is Rump . . . haaa- cough- cough- cough . . ." Gran gave Mother something warm to drink and pried me from her arms. "Tell me his name, Anna. All of it." But Mother never did. She took a breath and then let out all the air and didn't take any more in. Ever. Gran said that I cried then, but I never hear that in my imagination. All I hear is silence. Not a move or a breath. The fire doesn't crack and even the pixies are still. Finally, Gran holds me up and says, "Rump. His name is Rump." The next morning, the village bell chimed and gnomes ran all over The Mountain crying, "Rump! Rump! The new boy's name is Rump!" My name couldn't be changed or taken back, because in The Kingdom your name isn't just what people call you. Your name is full of meaning and power. Your name is your destiny. My destiny really stinks. I stopped growing when I was eight and I was small to begin with. The midwife, Gertrude, says I'm small because I had only the milk of a weak goat instead of a strong mother, but I know that really it's because of my name. You can't grow all the way if you don't have a whole name. I tried not to think about my destiny too much, but on my birthday I always did. On my twelfth birthday I thought of nothing else. I sat in the mine, swirling mud around in a pan, searching for gold. We needed gold, gold, gold, but all I saw was mud, mud, mud. The pickaxes beat out a rhythm that rang all over The Mountain. It filled the air with thumps and bumps. In my head The Mountain was chanting, Thump, thump, thump. Bump, bump, bump. Rump, Rump, Rump. At least it was a good rhyme. Thump, thump, thump Bump, bump, bump Rump, Rump, Rump "Butt! Hey, Butt!" I groaned as Frederick and his brother Bruno approached with menacing grins on their faces. Frederick and Bruno were the miller's sons. They were close to my age, but so big, twice my size and ugly as trolls. "Happy birthday, Butt! We have a present just for you." Frederick threw a clod of dirt at me. My stubby hands tried to block it, but it smashed right in my face and I gagged at the smell. The clod of dirt was not dirt. "Now that's a gift worthy of your name!" said Bruno. Other children howled with laughter. "Leave him alone," said a girl named Red. She glared at Frederick and Bruno, holding her shovel over her shoulder like a weapon. The other children stopped laughing. "Oh," said Frederick. "Do you love Butt?" "That's not his name," growled Red. "Then what is it? Why doesn't he tell us?" "Rump!" I said without thinking. "My name is Rump!" They burst out laughing. I had done just what they wanted. "But that's not my real name!" I said desperately. "It isn't?" asked Frederick. "What do you think his real name is?" asked Bruno. Frederick pretended to think very hard. "Something unusual. Something special . . . Cow Rump." "Baby Rump," said Bruno. "Rump Roast!" Everyone laughed. Frederick and Bruno fell over each other, holding their stomachs while tears streamed down their faces. They rolled in the dirt and squealed like pigs. Just for a moment I envied them. They looked like they were having such fun, rolling in the dirt and laughing. Why couldn't I do that? Why couldn't I join them? Then I remembered why they were laughing. Red swung her shovel down hard so it stuck in the ground right between the boys' heads. Frederick and Bruno stopped laughing. "Go away," she said. Bruno swallowed, staring cross-eyed at the shovel that was just inches from his nose. Frederick stood and grinned at Red. "Sure. You two want to be alone." The brothers walked away, snorting and falling over each other. I could feel Red looking at me, but I stared down at my pan. I picked out some of Frederick and Bruno's present. I did not want to look at Red. "You'd better find some gold today, Rump," said Red. I glared at her. "I know. I'm not stupid." She raised her eyebrows. Some people did think I was stupid because of my name. And sometimes I thought they were probably right. Maybe if you have only half a name, you have only half a brain. I kept my eyes on my pan of mud, hoping Red would go away, but she stood over me with her shovel, like she was inspecting me. "The rations are tightening," said Red. "The king--" "I know, Red." Red glared at me. "Fine. Then good luck to you." She stomped off, and I felt worse than when Frederick and Bruno threw poop in my face. Red wasn't my friend exactly, but she was the closest I had to a friend. She never made fun of me. Sometimes she stood up for me, and I understood why. Her name wasn't all that great, either. Just as people laugh at a name like Rump, they fear a name like Red. Red is not a name. It's a color, an evil color. What kind of destiny does that bring? Excerpted from Rump: The True Story of Rumpelstiltskin by Liesl Shurtliff All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
