The Broken Mirror

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Can desire really transform reality?
From award-winning novelist Jonathan Coe and distinguished Italian artist Chiara Coccorese comes The Broken Mirror, a political parable for children, a contemporary fairy tale for adults, and a fable for all ages.
One day Claire, to escape her quarrelsome parents, takes refuge in the dump behind her house. There she finds a broken mirror, a nasty piece of sharp glass… yet she is strangely drawn to it. She soon discovers it has the power to transform even the most drab reality into a fairy-tale world: the grey sky is reflected blue, and Claire’s modest, suburban house is transformed into the most beautiful castle.
As Claire grows older, always accompanied by her magic mirror, she can see her face without her teenage acne, and her town before it fell victim to thieving property developers. But, in reality, libraries are being turned into luxury flats wherever she looks, and the boy Claire loves is instead her worst enemy.
Frustrated and angry with the mirror’s illusions, Claire is about to destroy it when the mysterious Peter steps in: he has also found a shard of broken mirror, and so begins their journey to piece together the larger puzzle…
Previously published in Italian, French, Greek and Dutch, The Broken Mirror comes to life in English for the first time, to be read with equal pleasure by children and adults.

Classics —Fantasy Contemporary Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & Mythology Fiction

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74 halaman cetak

Publikasi asli: 2017
Tahun publikasi: 2017

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Kutipan

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rom here, you could soon reach the rubbish dump. In the distance there rose a modest, grassy hill, dotted with rocks and heather, where Claire’s parents would sometimes take her for walks on Sunday afternoons. There was a fantastic view of the whole town from the top. But before you got very far along the path towards this hill, there was a clump of dense, stubbly bushes on the left, and once you had pushed your way through those, the ground fell away at your feet into a sheer slope, like the edge of a cliff. But if you trod carefully, you could scramble down the slope – clutching for support onto the weeds which sprung out of the chalky soil – and that was how you got to the dump.
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Claire looked again into the mirror lying in the palm of her hand. The same pale, freckly face looked back at her. And behind it was the same blue, cloudless sky. And then she saw something fly through the sky, directly behind her head. It was a huge bird – flying so close above her that she could see the soft texture of its feathers and the beady gleam of its fast, searching eye; so close above her that in an involuntary movement she ducked and covered her head with one arm, afraid that the bird was going to fly into her
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try as she might, she could not see it anywhere in the lowering, cloudy sky.
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Hanne Agnes Hansen Malmskov
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