This beguiling anthology retains the dark tone of classic fairy tales while incorporating inventive steampunk elements that create fresh perspectives. Talented narrators alternate delivering each story, allowing listeners to transition smoothly from one to the next. Hearing the opening of “La Valse,” based on Andersen’s “The Red Shoes,” listeners will be haunted by the quick but gruesome imagery of dancers trapped inside metal frameworks that continue to spin them even after their deaths. The fables following, based on well-known tales such as “Sleeping Beauty,” “Baba Yaga,” and “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” feature narration that matches the timbre of each tale’s most intriguing persona, though they rarely highlight discernible differences in the secondary characters. Fantasy fans will be enthralled with each clockwork tale. J.M. © AudioFile 2013, Portland, Maine
Clockwork Fairy Tales: A Collection of Steampunk Fables
Narrated by Anne Flosnik, Kaleo Griffith, Robertson Dean, John Lee
Stephen L. AntczakUnabridged — 11 hours, 55 minutes
Clockwork Fairy Tales: A Collection of Steampunk Fables
Narrated by Anne Flosnik, Kaleo Griffith, Robertson Dean, John Lee
Stephen L. AntczakUnabridged — 11 hours, 55 minutes
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Overview
In "You Will Attend Until Beauty Awakens," national bestselling author and John W. Campbell Award winner Jay Lake tells the story of Sleeping Beauty-and how the princess was conceived in deception, raised in danger, and rescued by a prince who may be less than valiant.
The tale of "The Tinderbox" takes a turn into the surreal when a damaged young soldier comes into possession of an intricate, treacherous treasure and is drawn into a mission of mercy in national bestselling author Kat Richardson's "The Hollow Hounds."
In "The Kings of Mount Golden," Hugo and World Fantasy Award nominee Paul Di Filippo tells the story of a young man's search for his heritage and a mechanical marvel that lies at the heart of a sinister pact in this fascinating take on "The King of the Golden Mountain."
Editorial Reviews
09/30/2013
Mixing fairy tales with a unique genre can produce an entertaining result, and this steampunk anthology certainly delivers in that regard. Borrowing from master storytellers such as Hans Christian Anderson and the Brothers Grimm, this anthology provides a great collection of fairy tales, many of which will be new to the average reader. Much to the benefit of this audio edition, several narrators read these tales—and it’s safe to say that no single narrator could have done the material justice. The deep tones and projections of John Lee and Robertson Dean are balanced by the slight rasp of Kaleo Griffith and the soft but pronounced voice of Anne Flosnik. Lee and Flosnik also project more regal tones, while Dean and Griffith capture the more gritty texts in the anthology. A Roc paperback. (June)
"Take a few of the Western world's best-known fairy tales, toss in a generous helping of gizmos and steam, and you get one of the most inspired mash-ups of the year...There are many thoughtful new spins on old favorites."—Publishers Weekly
This beguiling anthology retains the dark tone of classic fairy tales while incorporating inventive steampunk elements that create fresh perspectives. Talented narrators alternate delivering each story, allowing listeners to transition smoothly from one to the next. Hearing the opening of “La Valse,” based on Andersen’s “The Red Shoes,” listeners will be haunted by the quick but gruesome imagery of dancers trapped inside metal frameworks that continue to spin them even after their deaths. The fables following, based on well-known tales such as “Sleeping Beauty,” “Baba Yaga,” and “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” feature narration that matches the timbre of each tale’s most intriguing persona, though they rarely highlight discernible differences in the secondary characters. Fantasy fans will be enthralled with each clockwork tale. J.M. © AudioFile 2013, Portland, Maine
Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940170720897 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Tantor Audio |
| Publication date: | 06/04/2013 |
| Edition description: | Unabridged |
Read an Excerpt
Father Brassbound followed Queen Perrault down the spiral stairs that led into the dank foundations of the Royal Palace of Talos. The door behind them was in the Lesser Rose Garden, a huge, rusted iron monstrosity set into the base of the Windhook Tower. To pass in three steps from the sunlit idyll of the ranks of polyantha to the mossy, shadowed coils of the stone bowels of the castle always disturbed him.
“My lady.” He was nervous—the familiarity itself betraying Father Brassbound’s deep sense of uncertainty—“Why do we go below this day?”
“Because,” she replied in a voice tinged with gentle exasperation, “I want to show you something.”
“I am not so fond of laboratories,” the priest said. “My own forging was a painful, drawn–out process.”
“We forge nothing this day,” the queen assured him.
That they had managed to separate themselves from Queen Perrault’s scuttling crowd of maids, ladies–in–waiting, courtiers, and guards was itself something of a minor miracle. As Father Brassbound well knew, royalty was almost never alone. They were attended even in the privy, at least much of the time. Their most intimate moments took place within earshot of a valet, a ladies’ maid, and at least two guards.
That she took this trip into the bones of the palace alone except for him was a momentous occasion. Momentous, and smacking all too readily of secrets.
He did not like secrets so much. His God was not a god of secrets, though of course the church had its Holy Mysteries. But those were available to any man who took the right vows and swore to the correct loyalties.
The queen . . . she was a woman of fierce intelligence and strong desires. Father Brassbound feared that in her.
They soon debouched from the winding tunnel of the stairs into the barrel–vaulted expanses of this particular basement. The queen, carrying a lantern, adjusted some valves and pressed a button that caused sparkers all around the vast, damp space to echo like a battalion of iron crickets.
“Lux fiat,” muttered the priest.
“Indeed.” He could hear the tense smile even in the queen’s voice.
The lights flared to life, illuminating a dozen dozen devices, from a great, hulking revolutionary with lightning cables thicker than his thigh to worktables covered with delicate glassware arranged for the miracle of a chemical wedding. Other shapes were shrouded with clothes, or lurked in shadows behind the pillars that supported the downward leap of the vaulting. Though the priest had no sense of smell, he was certain the place would be redolent of oil, metal, and mold.
Queen Perrault walked over to a great brass–bound tank filled with a dark green fluid. Tubes ran in and out while pumps ticked slowly over, moving dark and viscous fluids from a series of glass cylinders into the shadowed, foggy depths of the tank.
He looked, but was able to see little. Whatever went on in there was obviously meat rather than brass, but beyond that, Father Brassbound could not say.
“I will be pregnant soon,” the queen announced.
He was quite taken aback at this improbable declaration. “Your Highness?”
“You will help me create and maintain the appearance of gravidity,” she said, glancing back at him. Her brown eyes, so light they were almost amber, flickered in the gaslight that burned from two dozen sources around them. Not tears, he realized.
Determination.
“Pregnancy has but one cause, and a highly predictable outcome,” Father Brassbound offered cautiously.
“We will forge our outcome,” she said, turning back to the tank. “Dr. Scholes has been very, very helpful to me. The fluid he guided me in preparing is almost steeped enough to host she who will be my daughter.”
“You cannot,” he almost squeaked. “Only a child of your body can inherit the throne.”
“So far as the world knows,” the queen replied calmly, “she will be the child of my body.”
“What does His Highness say to this plan?”
This time her voice was sad, distant, echoing from an exile’s distance. “So far as Grimm knows, she will be a child of my body.”
“My Queen,” Father Brassbound said slowly. “I serve you in all things so long as I do not betray the church and my faith in God to do so. I . . . If need be, I, I can stand beside you and bear false witness to the court in this matter. But I cannot . . . cannot betray the king.”
“Who speaks of betrayal?” Her eyes were glittering with tears. “Dr. Scholes and I will use the homunculi of his ejaculate and the blood–egg of my own body to make our daughter come to life. It is no different than what my body does by instinct and through the virtues of vital essences. I will merely use my hands instead of my uterus. She will still be Grimm’s child, and mine.”
“But not born of your body.”
“No, Father.” Perrault’s voice dropped, almost a growl, as she threw a switch and the tank began to bubble. “Born of my will.”
The priest knew then that no matter the qualms of his conscience, he would obey the queen in this as well.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Clockwork Fairy Tales: A Collection of Steampunk Fables"
by .
Copyright © 2013 Stephen L. Antczak.
Excerpted by permission of Penguin Publishing Group.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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