I’ve just finished reading The Tale of Despereaux to my children for the second time. We read it first in 2005, so I thought we could stand revisiting it.
It’s a sweet story– a fairy tale story of a princess and a dungeon. The hero is a mouse (Despereaux), and the bad guys are some rats, and the whole thing reads pleasantly enough with some laugh-out-loud moments and at least one wrenchingly sad moment at which–I am not kidding you– one of my children asked me please not to continue reading because it was Just So Sad. We were reading about a character whose misfortunes brought tears to our eyes; they really did. But we had to continue reading because, just at that moment, the text read like this: “Poor Mig. What will become of her? You must, frightened though you may be, read on and see for yourself. Reader, it is your duty.”
This is, in fact, one of the clever things about this book: the narrator actively engages the reader in a kind of one-way dialogue. She talks to you as she writes. I like that.
The other thing I like about this book is the wrenching truth I find on its pages. It isn’t everywhere; it doesn’t hit you hard. But every once in a while she tells you something so real, it hurts. And truth, I think you know, does hurt sometimes.
It’s a story of good guys and bad guys, but the line between them isn’t so clearly drawn. The bad guy, for example, is someone we want to be good. Early on, the narrator shows us that he might, in fact, be good. He has, deep down, some Very Real Goodness in him. Just like Real People.
But he is hateful. He behaves Very Badly. And in the end, you want him to get his comeuppance. Yes, he deserves a good walloping. He does not even remotely deserve forgiveness.
Then comes the scathing truth. Among the many he has wronged is the princess. Perhaps of all the novel’s characters, she has the most reason to hate him– and she offers him kindness and grace.
Why? Well, you know, it’s a children’s book, and children’s books have to go this way– the way of the high road, the moral lesson, the world full of happiness and light.
No. This author is telling the truth here, and I love it. As the princess (whose name, for reasons I cannot determine, is “Pea”) stands deliberating over what must be done with the rat, she realizes whom her hatred and vindictiveness will hurt the most: “Pea was aware suddenly of how fragile her heart was, how much darkness was inside it, fighting, always, with the light. She did not like the rat. She would never like the rat, but she knew what she must do to save her own heart.”
I don’t know what to make of it, entirely. I mean, what are we saying here? Don’t we forgive for the benefit of the Other Person? Isn’t forgiveness and kindness about generosity toward the Other?
Or is it, in the end, all of us throwing ourselves on the mercy of God? Ultimately, does it really matter to me if someone has misjudged me, or been deliberately unkind? God is my judge, right? So what do I care if you hate me?
On the other hand, the judgments we harbor, the grudges, the bitterness– that makes war on our souls. We don’t always notice the slow decay, but it takes root immediately, and the longer we wait, the harder it is to get rid of. It will kill us just as sure as I’m typing here. It’s just that it takes a Really Long Time.
