Review of the Day: A Curse Dark as Gold by Elizabeth C. Bunce

Every possible fairytale is eventually hunted down and stripped of its elements for middle grade and YA novel reinterpretation. This is not an unusual thing. For centuries humans have been fascinated with such tales, telling them, retelling them, and changing them to suit current needs. Nowandays, when contemporary authors take a tale it becomes the skeleton for a larger story to come. Cinderella becomes Donna Jo Napoli’s Bound. East of the Sun, West of the Moon becomes Sun and Moon Ice and Snow by Jessica Day George or East by Edith Pattou. Nothing against the titles I’ve already mentioned, but my favorite reinterpretations are always the ones that aren’t considered princess tales. The Magic Circle, which took the Hansel and Gretel tale and turned it into a story of mental illness. Or this book, A Curse Dark as Gold which reimagines the Rumpelstiltskin story with cleverness and style. Though I feel some judicious pruning was probably in order, Bunce’s debut binds together a strong story with characters that make you believe. Few books are lucky enough to do so much.

It’s so much simpler to live your life when you know what you want. When Charlotte Miller’s father dies and leaves his mill, Stirwaters, to his daughters Charlotte knows that all she wants is keep the place running. Tragedy after bad luck, however, sees to it that unless Charlotte wants very much to see Stirwaters survive she must seek the help of a stranger. Named Jack Spinner, the man promises to give Charlotte the things she wants the most. But at what price?

There is much to be said for a story that knows what it’s about from page one onward. Sometimes you’ll read a novel and as the plot progresses it feels as if the author is realizing where the story goes alongside their reader. Such books tend to be disappointing. Curse, however, has no such internal weaknesses. No gaps in the narrative or flaws in the work. I can see some young readers becoming confused with Bunce’s mechanical take on the old Rumpelstiltskin tale. They might wonder for some time where the spinning comes in. Of course, all is cleared up when Charlotte mentions to a visitor, “Spinning is at the heart of our operation here.” It is the machines that spin, of a fashion. And like Paul Zelinsky’s version of Rumpelstiltskin, Bunce understands the technical aspects of this fairy tale. When the gold is created it doesn’t lie in bushels but rather as “Gleaming reels of thread . . . stacked chest-high all along one wall, like rows of corncobs.” Sometimes the more technical the text, the better the read.

The romantic element, I must admit, is fairly forgettable. Having read this book about a year ago I’d entirely forgotten that Charlotte even had a beau until I reread it again recently. What sticks far more clearly in the mind is Charlotte’s personality, her love of her sister, her uncle’s attempts to become World’s Greatest Cad, and Jack Spinner. I even remembered the reason why Spinner does the things he does, but I could not remember Charlotte’s beau Randall to save my soul. He’s a steady fellow, but not at the heart of the piece. As such, I wouldn’t sell this book to kids with the lure of romance. Rather, I’d fashion it as a gripping mystery and a book where magic is at its most duplicitous. This is a book too slippery to slot in the standard lovey-dovey romance aisle. Give it a little more respect.

The KLIATT review of this book said that it takes place in “the nonspecific past of the Industrial Revolution.” That’s fair. Bunce basically says as much at the beginning of her Author’s Note. The School Library Journal review said, “A rich opening to Jane Austen’s world for teens.” That’s bizarre. Surely if you had to compare this book to something then it would be far more of a George Eliot piece, yes? Bunce’s talent at putting a smart sentence together is commendable as well. One such example might be when Charlotte is compelled to tell the truth against her instincts. “I sat in stony silence – a crack in my foundations growing wider and wider by the moment.” I love that kind of stuff.

The slow and steady tone of the piece is not in and of itself a problem. Not every novel has to interrupt itself with car chases and fight scenes, after all. Magic isn’t even hinted at, in fact, until page 100 or so. More difficult is the sheer length of the novel. At 400+ pages there are times when the reader wonders if every scene here is absolutely necessary. Working at more of a clip the length of the book would be less noticeable. As it stands, the weight sometimes drags the reader down.

Kirkus suggested in their review that Charlotte was possessed of an “infuriating secretiveness”, which normally drives me bonkers in books. There is no type of story that disturbs me more than one where the protagonist constantly goes against the will of the reader. But Bunce’s tale didn’t have that affect on me. Maybe it was because she put us so effectively into the head of her heroine. Maybe it had to do with the fact that we understood her motivations. And maybe it also had something to do with the fact that when Charlotte is surprised by something, we the readers are surprised as well. Bunce does us the honor of not pulling her punches and we respect her in turn.