The Malachite Palace

The Malachite Palace

BOOK DESCRIPTION

This orig­i­nal fairy tale cel­e­brates the impor­tance of free­dom and the need to take respon­si­bil­ity for one’s own free­dom. Although the queen, the gov­erness, and the lady-in-waiting all believe that the young princess is too del­i­cate and refined to play with the neigh­bor­hood chil­dren, the princess her­self decides otherwise…

CD DESCRIPTION

This CD con­tains the read­ing of three of my favorite sto­ries: Jordi’s Star, The Mala­chite Palace, and The Uni­corn of the West. It was a very mean­ing­ful expe­ri­ence for me to record these books, to choose the music to accom­pany the read­ing, and to share after each record­ing the story of the cre­ation of each book. The CD became even more mean­ing­ful as it was played dur­ing the per­for­mance of The Mala­chite Palace as a bal­let.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The word “mala­chite” fas­ci­nated me since child­hood. In the beau­ti­ful poem “A Mar­garita” the great Nicaraguan poet Rubén Darío describes a king who had “un pala­cio de dia­mantes, un kiosco de malaquita y un rebaño de ele­fantes” [a palace made of dia­monds, a malaquite kiosk and an ele­phant herd]. The whole world he painted delighted me, but it was the “mala­chite kiosk” that intrigued me. Not know­ing what mala­chite was, the sound of the word was in itself fas­ci­nat­ing. Many years later I had the oppor­tu­nity to visit the extra­or­di­nary museum of The Her­mitage in St. Peters­burg, and there, to my sur­prise, was a mag­nif­i­cent mala­chite kiosk. Did Darío heard about this out­ra­geous gift to a tzar? Or was the imag­i­na­tion of the poet the inspi­ra­tion for the kiosk? I prob­a­bly will never know, but haunted by the beauty of word and stone, one day I sim­ply began writ­ing: “There once was a princess who lived in a mala­chite palace…” As the story evolved, the val­ues I hold true: the value of free­dom and the respon­si­bil­i­ties it demands, the rich­ness of diver­sity, enriched the story. And what a plea­sure to have an extra­or­di­nary artist as Leonid Gore cre­ate such del­i­cate and inspir­ing illus­tra­tions that make the book itself a gem!

An addi­tional source of joy has been to see The Mala­chite Palace turned in 2008 into a mag­nif­i­cent bal­let by the Bal­let Bras d’Or in Cape Bre­ton, NS, Canada.

REVIEWS

Pub­lish­ers Weekly

Gore’s (The Pome­gran­ate Seeds) acrylic and ink illus­tra­tions, spun like gos­samer and lit with an inner radi­ance, lend their magic to a tale about a lonely princess. Con­fined to the cas­tle and for­bid­den to play with the chil­dren out­side the gates (whom the queen, the gov­erness and the lady-in-waiting deem com­mon), the princess is delighted when a lit­tle yel­low bird flies in through the win­dow, fill­ing the palace with “a light and joy­ful music.” After it is cap­tured and placed in a cage, how­ever, the lit­tle bird ceases to sing. Only when she sets it free, turn­ing its cage into a bird feeder so that it and its friends may come and go at will, does it sing joy­fully again. See­ing the bird’s hap­pi­ness inspires the princess to seek her own, and she ven­tures for the first time beyond the palace gates to play with the other chil­dren. Ada (Mediopol­lito) puts a bit of a fresh spin on the tired metaphor of the bird in the gilded cage by hav­ing the girl take respon­si­bil­ity for her own free­dom. But it is Gore’s airy, diaphanous illus­tra­tions that lift the tale above the sum of its parts. Stud­ies in the refine­ments of light and tex­ture, they appear over­laid with a del­i­cate, filmy gauze, and their weight­less ele­gance imbues the translu­cent green walls of the mala­chite palace and the sun-dappled inte­ri­ors with a mys­te­ri­ous, ethe­real beauty. Ages 4–8.

School Library Journal

Pre-School–Grade 3: A lovely pic­ture book in the grand tra­di­tion of Euro­pean fairy tales. Locked away in her mala­chite cas­tle, a lonely lit­tle princess yearns for the one thing she does not have a friend. Then one day, a tiny yel­low bird with a beau­ti­ful song vis­its the palace, and the princess’s lady-in-waiting and gov­erness lock it in a sil­ver cage. Trapped, the bird stops singing, until the princess removes the cage door. The bird flies away singing a joy­ful song and soon returns, accom­pa­nied by many friends, to the open cage the child has filled with food and placed on the bal­cony. Fol­low­ing the bird’s exam­ple, the princess ven­tures out­side the palace doors, where she joins the chil­dren laugh­ing and play­ing. Although the story is not highly orig­i­nal, young­sters will enjoy its gen­tly famil­iar­ity. The art­work, lov­ingly crafted by a lead­ing Russ­ian children’s book illus­tra­tor, is strik­ing. Softly muted acrylic and ink draw­ings depict a dream­like land while express­ing the princess’s iso­la­tion. A pre­dictable, yet com­fort­ing, read. –Denise E. Agosto, for­merly at Mid­land County Pub­lic Library, TX.

Book­list

Ages 4–8: An orig­i­nal fairy tale/fable, trans­lated from Span­ish, tells a touch­ing story of a priv­i­leged child in a gilded cage, who sets her­self free. The princess lives in splen­dor in the mala­chite palace, but she is shut in there. She hears the laugh­ter of chil­dren play­ing in the fields out­side the gates, but she is for­bid­den to join the “com­mon, igno­rant” crowd. Gore’s full-page, acrylic-and-ink pic­tures, in rich, shim­mer­ing shades of green and red, show the angelic child nearly over­whelmed by her flam­boy­ant care-givers: the arro­gant queen, the repres­sive gov­erness, the pro­tec­tive lady-in-waiting. Then a singing bird flies into the child’s room; the ladies lock him into a sil­ver cage, and he stops singing–until the princess opens the cage and lets him fly away. She trans­forms the empty cage into an open arch­way, and finally she opens the ornate palace gates for her­self and runs out­side to play with the chil­dren. The the­atri­cal illus­tra­tions pro­vide a lav­ish set­ting for the sturdy child’s strug­gle to leave home. –Hazel Rochman.

Kirkus Reviews

From Ada (The Lizard and the Sun, 1997, etc.), an orig­i­nal fairy tale that is pre­dictable, ele­vated to beauty by Gore’s paint­ings. A princess child is iso­lated in a palace, away from the “rude,” “igno­rant,” and “com­mon” chil­dren who play out­side her gates. One day an exquis­ite yel­low bird vis­its her, singing a joy­ful tune; the princess cages it and its joy fades. She frees the bird, and even­tu­ally frees her­self, join­ing the chil­dren out­side. The mes­sage is heavy-handed, the telling is with­out style, the set­ting is non­de­script. The illus­tra­tions, how­ever, are ephemeral: The princess and her sur­round­ings are depicted in Gore’s paint­ings as if they are seen through gauze. The angles of the char­ac­ters’ faces, the sharp def­i­n­i­tion of the cage, the detailed scroll­work of the win­dows and gates are all in per­fect con­trast to the hazy exis­tence of a friend­less princess an iso­la­tion based on prej­u­dice and hearsay, and one to be will­ingly shat­tered. (Pic­ture book. 4–8) — Copy­right ©1998, Kirkus Asso­ciates, LP.

This is a won­der­ful pic­ture book, both the writ­ing and the illus­tra­tions. It’s about the cru­elty and fool­ish­ness of snob­bery. A very sweet lit­tle princess is kept inside the palace gates because the queen, the gov­erness and the lady-in-waiting think she is too good to be mix­ing in with the riff-raff rab­ble kids out­side the gates. She’s not happy. One day the queen and her cronies trap a bird that has flown in to the palace but it isn’t happy and starts to dete­ri­o­rate, so the lit­tle princess helps it escape. In the process the princess makes a very impor­tant change in the way she is treated. The illus­tra­tions of this lit­tle princess are just per­fect and they cap­ture her emo­tions in such detail. The illus­tra­tions glow with a soft light and the deep green walls of the mala­chite palace add magic to the pic­tures and also a sort of inno­cence. This is a book that shows the strength that a child can have when they decide to live up to their true nature and think for them­selves. It should help kids see that they can come up with ideas on their own for doing the right thing and that some­times grown-ups can make mis­takes. I love this book. (–Ter­rie Reese, Lit­tle Chute, WI, US, Ama­zon Top 500 Reviewer).

The Mala­chite Palace” is a beau­ti­ful book about friend­ship and respect. The lit­tle princess is not allowed to play with the com­mon chil­dren out­side because they are “rude” and “igno­rant”, accord­ing to her lady-in-waiting, gov­erness, and the queen. One day she finds a lit­tle yel­low bird, and decides to keep it for a friend. But being in the cage makes the lit­tle bird weak and sad, and the princess must find a way to set the bird free, and in doing so, show the women that watch over her that she can­not grow or be happy unless she is allowed to have friends. The illus­tra­tions in this book are exquis­ite, almost ethe­real. It is a trea­sure for any children’s library, and sure to be a favorite. (–N. Bernad­sky, Con­way, AR, US, Amazon).

A caged bird will not sing, and a child locked away in a pro­tec­tive cas­tle will not flour­ish. Ada’s fairy­tale speaks to the heart and soul of child­hood, to the power of truth and free­dom. Set off by Gore’s mag­nif­i­cent paint­ings, this is a near-perfect meld­ing of clas­sic story and art­work.” (Fam­ily Life, June/July, 1998)

[…] This is a fairy tale with a strong young girl who need no magic to make her world bet­ter.” (–Natalie Soto.On the Shelf – Rocky Moun­tain News. August, 1998)

Activ­i­ties

Print The Mala­chite Palace Col­or­ing Page

READERS’ RESPONSES

If you have enjoyed read­ing or shar­ing this book, I would very much like to hear from you. Please click here to send your comments.