Find our way to where?
"We tore open the metal latches, eager to find something useful, or better yet, edible, but all it held was a three-volume collection of stories called 'Tales of the Peculiar,' the pages spongy with seawater, and a fancy bath mat embroidered with letters ALP, Miss Peregrine's initials."
What good were fairy tales if we couldn't even find our way? I believed the question wasn't directed at me, as I finished reading "Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children" over the weekend. My cousin recommended it, knowing I was a huge fan of Young-adult literature. And I was foolish to doubt her. I wasn't done with "Hollow City," the sequel to "Miss Peregrine." Jacob Portman was able to solve the mystery surrounding his family, and he must guide Miss Peregrine's wards to Wales. Cairnholm, an island that they called home, was no longer safe from the wights. And they had to watch out for submarines and Zeppelins. It turned out that the fearsome wights collaborated with the Germans.
I chuckled (while reading the first part), as it occurred to me that authors would brand Germans as villains. As for "Tales of the Peculiar," I should have guessed that Ransom Riggs would publish the books. The first was out last spring, and there would be a possibility that the rest could be available soon. Lemuel Gulliver could have penned these fairy tales, which was a blistering portrait of human civilization. "The First Ymbryne" recalled what happened in Oddsfordshire, where a gifted lady would accidentally discover a small community of peculiars, and how the time loop would save them from the wrath of normals.
It would be too much to think about historical references, but Riggs made it so real. After all, the places would exist. In the case of "The First Yambryne," there was no doubt about the English countryside. I suspected Biblical references, a parable of a sort. Modern readers may be thinking of the mutants, but I refused to agree with it. Riggs did his research, even read too many fairy tales. And imagination doesn't have bounds. In popular culture, a temporal loop was used to show readers that there would be hope of breaking out from the cycle of repetition. I couldn't figure out from where. "Groundhog Day" was a good case. In this curious tale, Riggs showed that the loop would protect the peculiars from their own kind as well. Prometheus was missing in these pages.
And it couldn't get zanier than that
"The Fork-Tongued Princess" would allude to the royal intermarriage in Europe, as the titular character exhibited serpentine features. She was shunned except for her father's would-be-assassin. "Cocobolo" took place in the Far East, where a young merchant had a strong urge to dive into the deep blue sea. He would turn into a desert island, drifting aimlessly in the Indian Ocean. "The Boy Who Could Hold Back the Sea" featured the Irish famine and the myth behind the Northwest Passage, of how the direst circumstances could bring out the worst out of people. Last but not the least, "The Tale of Cuthbert" was a nod to animal rights.
Riggs depicted the humans as too practical, even narrow-minded by choice. If it was a matter of convenience, then most people couldn't be faulted for it. Unlike "Gulliver's Travels," this collection of fairy tales weren't treated too seriously. And the author was rather precise about locations. It would mean three things. Miss Peregrine and her wards weren't the only ones inside the time loop. Riggs revealed an unflattering portrait of humans, but there might be an equivalent of a Muggle somewhere. And the peculiars weren't so different from the normals, as they believed in human kindness.
"Hollow City" might show other kinds of peculiars, but there won't be any doubt about Miss Peregrine's kind. I don't mind the wait (for the next book), but I wished I could write a paper on it. It would be a piece of cake.
