Joan Aiken is probably best known for The Wolves of Willoughby Chase and nobody who has ever met Sylvia, Bonnie and Simon the Gooseboy or soaked up the sinister atmosphere of James III’s 19th Century England will be remotely surprised to learn that in The Kingdom Under the Sea the words are never overwhelmed by the illustrations and the good guys win in the end.
The Kingdom Under the Sea is a delightful retelling of eleven traditional European folk tales, most of which will be semi-familiar to modern readers, containing as they do ancient echoes of the fairy stories we all grew up with.
Joan Aiken reworked the stories for the 20th Century (I was particularly taken wit
h the idea of the disgruntled angel Gabriel going “Humph” every time he discovers what fools these mortals be …). She tells the tales with a deft hand and a twinkle in her eye without ever losing sight of the darkness that underlies European folk mythology.
All the f
amiliar ingredients are present – rags to riches (and back to rags again for the greedy/ungrateful/undeserving) – handsome princes, beautiful maidens, poor-but-honest peasants, magic spells, witches, mermaids, horrid relatives, dastardly deeds and gruesome ends all held together by that totally amoral morality common to all folk tales: it’s perfectly okay for odious people to meet terrible ends because we reap what we sow.
And thus we have the wonderful story of Baba Yaga who likes nothing better than eating people. However, her beautiful and virtuous daughter gets together with the equally beautiful and virtuous Vasilissa – who is lumbered with a classic Evil Stepmother and two Evil Stepsisters (see what I mean a
bout ‘echoes’?) – and between them they despatch their troublesome relatives in classic graphic fairytale fashion and live happily ever after: sewing, talking, laughing and combing their hair.
My two favourite stories – partly because they had twists that I just didn’t see coming but mostly because they’re simply enchanting – were The Sun God’s Cousin and The Golden-Fleeced Ram and the Hundred Elephants. Just when you’re expecting Marko – the hero of the latter story – to follow the well-trodden path of completing the impossible tasks with the help of the fairy folk and triumphing over the evil king, he surveys the happy, drunken elephants and – well, you’ll have to read it yourself to find 
out, but the ending is a pure joy.
And through it all run Jan Pieńkowski’s glorious, iconic silhouettes – echoing and complementing Aiken’s pawky humour, accentuating the darkness and giving shape and colour to the unimaginable.
I wouldn’t recommend this book for very young or sensitive children. The words might well go over their heads, but some of the darker illustrations have a nightmarish quality. For an older child however, reading along with a parent, it will both fuel young imaginations and trigger no end of tricky discussions about how ‘They needed killing’ isn’t really a good reason for doing away with your nearest and dearest.
Jonathan Cape. 2011. ISBN-13: 978-0857550095. 128pp.
Nice to read about this – I like Joan Aiken and Jan Pienkowski’s illustrations are fantastic. I’m glad this has been reissued. I was working for Random House Children’s Books when they reissued A Necklace of Raindrops a few years ago – a similar production.
I never get tired of marveling at Pienkowsi’s artwork, so astonishingly intricate! They are so atmospheric. And what a great idea to pair them with reworked fairy tales. Thanks for sharing the book with us.
I love her stories. I used to read them aloud to my Grade 2 classes when I was a children’s librarian. If you want to read some similar, wonderful stories, try Margaret Mahy’s short stories collections, such as The Door in the Air , and The downhill crocodile whizz and other stories.