Monthly Archives: September 2011

Ginie reviews Books: The Hollow Kingdom by Clare B. Dunkle

Title: The Hollow Kingdom (Book I)
Author: Clare B. Dunkle
Genre: Fantasy/folklore
Rating: 4.5/5 stars

Warning: Possible spoilers ahead and also Trigger Warning for mentions of abusive relationships

So while I was trawling through Amazon looking for my creepy Gothic fantasy fix, I stumbled upon this little gem that had loads of rave reviews and sounded like something that would be right up my alley.

The Hollow Kingdom tells the tale of Kate and Emily, two orphaned sisters who find themselves sent off to the Hallow Hill estate to live with their aunts and guardian – the really quite detestable Hugh Roberts. While there, they discover that the lake and surrounding wilderness has a tragic history linked to their own family and that Hallow Hill is actually part of Marak the goblin king’s kingdom – and that Marak has sinister plans of his own concerning the eldest sister, Kate. Namely abduction, a forced marriage and baby-making to ensure the survival of his own kingdom underground.

My summary isn’t very good, but basically I can’t recommend this book enough. If you like Libba Bray’s Gemma Doyle Trilogy for creepiness or Holly Black’s Modern Faerie Tale for both creepiness and the level of research done into faerie-lore then you’ll love The Hollow Kingdom. I think this might be hands-down one of the creepiest YA Fantasy book I’ve ever read and I loved it.

But back to the review. So tell me, what do you think of when you hear the words “Goblin King”? Is it…


Or perhaps even…


To be completely honest with you all, when I read the description of the Marak (Goblin for “Goblin King” – all the Goblin kings are called Marak) all I could see in my mind’s eye was…

 This. (Which probably just means I’m wayy too excited about Skyward Sword and absolutely gutted I don’t own a Nintendo Wii of my own). Only instead of being kind of hot and swish, he’s more grotesque and assymetrical – which is exactly as a goblin should be:

What Marak was, Kate didn’t know, but he couldn’t be a human, not with the big, bony head and tough, wiry body. The slightly bowed legs and large, knotted hands conveyed the idea of strength without grace…His face and hands were a ghastly pale gray, and his lips and fingernails were a dark tan – the colours, Kate thought, shuddering, of a corpse pulled out of water. His dull, straight hair fell, all one length, to his twisted shoulders. Most of it was a very light beige, but over one eye a coal-black patch grew back from his forehead, the long black wisps overlaying the pale hair like a spider’s legs. His ears rose to a sharp point that flopped over and stuck out through that rough hair like the ears of a terrier dog.

Most striking of all were Marak’s  deept-set eyes.The left-eye was black; the right, emerald green and they gleamed at her as if lit from within.

Also he has six fingers. Now if that’s not a goblin I don’t know what is. It’s quite refreshing in a way, to see that in a YA Fantasy book that does feature a romance-of-sorts the goblin Marak is still very much portrayed as a goblin and not in the least bit beautiful, which I think is a problem a lot of YA Fantasy has sometimes – in that it can’t accept monsters looking like monsters if they’re meant to be a main character and have some romantic entaglements (hullo Twilight vampires, I’m looking at you).

Though I admit I’m only referring to Marak as a love-interest for lack of a better word and it’s not a word I’m particularly comfortable with in this case as The Hollow Kingdom does suffer a bit from Beauty-and-the-Beast syndrome. i.e. hideous monster abducts/forcefully holds beautiful girl against her will, she eventually discovers he’s not as bad as she first thought and they end up in love – and while I’m happy to believe that a girl (or anyone really) might end up trying to make the most of their situation as a captive (hullo Stockholm Syndrome) I can’t really accept that this can be considered love in any sort of traditional sense.

So it’s a good thing then, that The Hollow Kingdom isn’t a Beauty-and-the-Best story – it is very much more. While the premise sounds as unfeminist as I think such a story could get, I would certainly consider Kate and Emily to be very strong and capable heroines. For a good three-quarters of the book Kate spends her time out-smarting Marak and attempting to clever-her-way out of becoming a Goblin King’s bride – because understandably, the thought of being abducted and held captive for the sole purposes of propagating the Royal Goblin line – to put it quite mildly – irks her no end. She does this all the while trying to keep both her and her little sister safe, and she does this on her own as soon as it becomes clear that none of the human adults believe her – indeed they intentionally put her in harm’s way in an attempt to make her “face he fears” and persistently question her sanity.

When she does finally giver herself over to the Goblin King it is in order to save her sister – and when she becomes the Goblin King’s wife she is placed under a charm (in the shape of a snake tattoo) that will strike and paralyse anyone – including the wife herself – who attempts to harm the Goblin King’s wife. The Goblin King then has the option to do with this person as he sees fit. The device is made to control the wife and ensure that she cannot escape – and yet despite this Kate discovers a way to make the charm work for her. The charm was originally placed on her in order to remove her of her agency, and yet she eventually learns to manipulate the charm and use it as a tool to give her back control over her own life, which I love. Also she befriends the snake who has some of the funnier lines in the story:

“Charm, has this happened before?”

“Yes,” hissed the snake softly. “Two other King’s Wives have been outside without the King’s permission. One no longer had a king. He was dead, and she was awaiting the birth of the heir. The other was in danger when the Kingdom Spells gave way and her king was far from home. And one King’s Wife travelled by closed wagon with a loud, fat woman during the migration. But it is true,” it whispered,”that you are the first King’s Wife to travel by closed wagon with a loud, fat woman and without the King’s permission.”

As with Beauty and the Beast, Kate eventually discovers she quite likes living amongst the Goblins and that she has become quite fond of Marak over time – but thankfully unlike Beauty and the Best it isn’t Kate’s gentle womanly ways that softens Marak and convinces him to love her and free her – it’s the fact that she saves his entire damn kingdom while he is incapacitated and this leads to him realising he has no right to hold someone captive who had braved such dangers to save his kingdom.

Despite how strong Kate is as a heroine, there are quite a lot of problematic aspects of her relationship with Marak. Mainly that while he may treat her with respect in the end, at least for a good three-quarters of the novel he is nothing but abusive and controlling and that seems rather too easily forgotten and forgiven. Furthermore, while Marak does respect his new wife’s strength and intelligence even towards the end you get the sense that it is Kate’s baby-making potential that he admires the most and that is pretty problematic in itself, especially considering this.

This is why I can’t really accept Kate and Marak’s relationship as a love story – because I really don’t think it is. Kate makes the best of her time in the Goblin kingdom and grows to respect and admire Marak’s craftiness and magic skills, but the revelation that she has grown to love him feels pretty forced. Not to mention the hints that suggest she accepts goblin life almost because she’s come to fear humanity and how monstrous they can be – for while the Goblins are monstrous at least they cannot lie, whereas humans lie all the time, hiding their monstrousness. This is hardly the kind of ending that I would call happy and hardly the kind of situation that would lend itself towards a truly loving relationship.

As for Marak, I feel that he is very true to his character and makes a very convincing fey. Clare Dunkle has successfully presented him as a Goblin rather than try to shoe-horn in any human expectations or human notions of morality, and this is very refreshing. Faerie-type are meant to be largely amoral, which Marak is – but unable to lie, which Marak can’t – and he has his own set of principles that revolve mainly around honesty and ensuring he does right by his people, which he does – even if it is at the expense of his bride’s well-being.

That said, I am very much looking forward to reading the next book – which will focus on Emily who I felt throughout the novel might have always been the more interesting sister.




Filed under Books, Review

Ginie reviews Theatre: Trevor Nunn’s The Tempest

Play: The Tempest by William Shakespeare
Director: Trevor Nunn
Notable actors: Ralph Fiennes as Prospero

So I was really fortunate last Tuesday as a friend of mine managed to secure tickets to see The Tempest at the Haymarket Theatre in Piccadilly – a play that I’d been longing to see for awhile as it contained quite a of of my favourite things: namely mischievous sprites and sea storms. The fact that Ralph Fiennes was acting in it was really just the icing on the cake – I was pretty damn excited when we got tickets. The Tempest is a play I’m actually not that familiar with, which I suppose was good in a way – sometimes it’s best to go in without any preconceived ideas.

Needless to say the production had some pretty awesome moments – the use of lighting and staging was really truly impressive and did a lot for the atmosphere of the play. One of my favourite moments (not including the sea storm at the beginning of course which was EPIC) was when Prospero called on the naiads and Juno to witness Miranda and Ferdinand’s engagement. The use of coloured lights and music and choral singing all combined to form a truly quite magical scene – all of which is suddenly shattered when Prospero remembers Caliban and the lighting changes dramatically to a stark harsh white light, revealing the set and stage for what it really is – colourless and bleak. It also made the sprites look suddenly really quite creepy, without all those colours to soften them, which I think was a nice touch. The sudden change in mood and atmosphere was palpable and really effective, and it was lighting techniques like these I think that really helped make the production as good as it was.

I also loved the comedic aspects of the play – the actors that played Stefano and Trinculo were brilliant as comic relief; and props go to Miranda and Ferdinand who were also very funny, most especially in the scene where Prospero gets Ferdinand to swear he won’t sleep with Miranda until after their marriage, which was played for laughs very effectively – especially as in this production of The Tempest Ferdinand and Miranda are very much teenagers who seem to want nothing more than to jump each other’s bones. I especially love Miranda’s line “Oh brave new world that has such people in’t!” and the way it was twisted around and turned into an exclamation of admiration for the male form upon seeing all the king’s men. 😉

Ralph Fiennes is obviously excellent as Prospero, and I think the moments where you get to see father and daughter interact was very effective – in a way, I think I’d have preferred if more of the focus had been given to their relationship rather than on Prospero’s revenge and eventual forgiveness of his enemies (but I guess that wasn’t really the main plot of the play, which is a shame). While there was something touching about Prospero’s relationship with Miranda, there was something equally very uncomfortable about seeing him manipulate his daughter like one of many pawns. Of course, the play was written when it was, and back then daughters were pretty much only good for marrying off – but it seems a shame that this production couldn’t have tried to bring out Prospero’s love for his daughter a bit more.

All of this said, the show-stealer was definitely Giles Terera as Caliban. While Tom Byam Shaw was very good as Ariel (I was very fond of the way he moved – he had a physical lightness and quickness about him that was exactly what I imagined a sprite would be like), I felt that when he spoke, he spoke in a way that was somewhat OTT and distracting. Caliban on the other hand spoke and moved like I imagine a fish-monster/demon to move and speak like and he was brilliant in every scene he was in.

I do feel however, that the play could have emphasised Prospero accepting responsibility for the way Caliban turned out a bit more – not having read or studied the play myself I may be wrong, but it seemed to me like that was quite an important and pivotal part of Prospero’s character development. Ariel is the one to show him his lack of empathy and forgiveness, but surely the moment when Prospero accepts his part in the development of Caliban is the moment when the true change occurs, the moment when Prospero truly does learn and grow? I think it also largely bothered me because the ending seemed rather flat and anti-climatic. Everything seems forgiven too easily – and the way Caliban submits to Prospero’s pretty patronising forgiveness is kind of galling considering that wrong occurred on both sides. I think maybe this only bothers me as much as it does because they’ve cast one of the only person of colour in the cast as Caliban (which I’m assuming was done on purpose as a form of social commentary) but if so the social commentary seems to fall a bit flat, as the ending with Prospero freeing and forgiving Caliban smacks pretty horribly of white saviour complex. (Also you know, the bit where Caliban ‘the native’ mistakes Stefano for a god and the fact that he has previously tried to rape Miranda. Yeah…might just be me, but I think anyone who comes from a country or a part of the world that has had to submit to colonialism will understand why this makes me super uncomfortable. I’ve been told that this isn’t an unusual reading/interpretation of Caliban – and that seems fair enough, but I think if you’re going to go with a anti-colonialist reading of the text then you have to make that very clear, and in this case I didn’t really feel like it was). Of course, it could have just been me, but apparently I’m not the only one who thinks the ending was a bit iffy.

All in all an enjoyable production, but a shame that some of the central themes (forgiveness, humanity, accepting responsibility for one’s mistakes) weren’t given the importance that they deserved.



Filed under Review, Theatre

Welcome to All We Ever Look For!

Hullo everyone!

So I’ve tentatively started trying to build a website for myself and all my various creative projects. I think this site is probably going to change a lot over the coming months as I start having a better idea of what it should look like and what sort of content it should focus on, but in the meantime I’m just going to be setting this up as the go-to site for all things Ginie-related. 😛 Expect to see illustration, news and updates regarding creative writing and various other bits and pieces.

In the meantime I leave you with some Kate Bush and the inspiration for this website’s name – I’m not sure what it is about this song, but it sums up how I feel about life quite often. And also just generally Kate Bush is an amazing goddess among mortals, that is all.



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