Think Arthur Rackham, Prince Valiant, postcard skies, and Disney-shadowed deeps. The accompanying story--really the Grimms' ""Briar Rose""--has been retold in a blowsy, dramatic fashion not unlike the dime-store versions: ""the thirteenth fairy strode angrily into the room, leaving a dreadful silence in her wake. Her old heart was full of rages and malice,"" Hyman writes--whereas the new, faithful Manheim translation reads: ""the thirteenth suddenly stepped in. . . and without a word of greeting, without so much as looking at anyone, she cried out in a loud voice. . . ."" The combined effect of picturization and text is to stress the danget--first to Briar Rose, then to her would-be deliverers (several of whom are shown as skeletons or corpses caught in the hedge)--and to downgrade the domestic interplay and the long deep sleep. The wonderment is sacrificed for a romantic adventure.