I know, I know. I'm already late on my first book review. Egads! Guys, I just wanted a chance to say "egads."
But anyway.
The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear
is one of those books I didn't want to see end. If Captain Bluebear had
had fifty lives, I probably would have been enthralled by every single
one.
Walter
Moers novel follows a young blue bear's adventure. An "unborn"
creature, Captain Bluebear found himself floating on a walnut shell,
only to meet his first boisterous family: a bunch of mini pirates. As
Blue bear grows older, he also grows smarter, using his seven-brained
teacher, Professor Nightingale as a mental encyclopedia to help him
through a myriad of sticky situations. Whether it's a giant bollog's
brain, or a natural born liar, Blue bear is sure to make the
acquaintance of these creatures throughout his journey through
labyrinths and paradises.
Moers' writing style is both perceptive and playful. A kid's book for adults, The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear
is bound to please Harry Potter fans, as well as adults yearning for
their relentlessly playful childhoods. Even the evil creatures often end
up being quite personable and we care about each character that makes
an appearance in Blue Bear's life. Even the obsessive liar, the
Troglotrol, gains our sympathy when his lying skills seem far from
impressive compared to other professional Congladiators (liars).
Mores'
writing is not only fantastical and freeing, but it is highly
perceptive of our own nature. As Blue Bear meets a group entitled "The
Muggs," he observes "they didn't take a vote on the matter because a
vote would have betokened a conflict; they compromised by adopting a
zigzag course" (282). Having been to a Quaker school, I immediately see
the resemblance to a hard-core democracy; Blue Bear's sentiments that
"The Muggs had rules like every community; but they were so refreshingly
different from traditional rules and regulations that it was almost a
pleasure to obey them" (283) also resonate with the Quaker/ashram
lifestyle. We all know that person that's "too peaceful" to defend
himself against an attacker; Moers expresses that personality through
play and wit.
Moers' societal commentary and
frustration is subtle--as the reader becomes engrossed in the mythical
creature, he may fail to see the parallels with our own planet--but as
Blue Bear searches for employment in Atlantis, his frustrations about
lack of qualification/privilege are akin to many post-grads in this
generation: "I should have liked to do job that made the most of my
comprehensive Nocturnal Academy education, but this was harder than I
had thought.
To obtain a teaching post you had to have spent years
working your way up through Atlantis's intricate educational system,
and nearly every learned profession required hard-to-get permits from
mysterious government departments. You could get nowhere without a
Norselander rubber stamp, and that was available only to those who
queued up for months on end, paid bribes to the competent authority, or
had a Norselander in the family."
Sounds a bit like grad school, does it not?
This
book makes you think about our society's ethical dilemma--but it
doesn't force you to. This works a fun bedtime read, that whisks you
away from your current world and takes you into 13.5 others.
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