This book is the tale of two children: a boy named Jack, and a girl named Jill. Yes, they do fall down a hill. And yes, Jack does break his head wide open.
But there is more than that. There is a beanstalk. There are giants. There might even be a mermaid or two. This story is terrifying. It is revolting. It is horrible. It is the most horrible fairy tale I have ever heard. Also, it is beautiful. Not sweet. Not cute.
Beautiful—like the gray and golden ashes in a fireplace. Or like the deep russet of a drying stain of blood.
And, best of all, it is true.
Fairy tales are awesome again.