THE TRUE UGLY DUCKLING

Just the fairy-tale facts, ma’am.

Taking cues from Hans Christian Andersen himself, Nickel writes in the style of a fairy tale as she chronicles the life of one of the world’s best-known storytellers. Happily, she sticks to the truth, rendering her subject’s early slights, hurts, and disappointments without fabulation or falsity—and with genuine empathy. We watch a young Andersen, misunderstood in his small town, go to glorious Copenhagen, only to find new rejection there as he auditions for the Royal Theater. Nickel deftly weaves in sly references to Andersen’s most celebrated tales (dancers are compared to swans, a choir to a nightingale). His success, when it arrives, feels deeply earned and deserved. Considering Andersen’s own propensity for cut-paper creations, it’s fitting that this book’s artist works in the same medium. Paper sculptor Nicholls is as adept at evoking the blurry reflections of buildings in the water as he is shadowed faces murmuring, and all out of multicolored pulp. This style brings to mind the best work of such artists as David Wisniewski. For most of the narrative, Andersen’s face is masked, shadowed, and hidden, his yellow scarf far more prominent, up until the ultimate moment of success. This rags-to-riches tale brings the emotional heart of Andersen’s own story to glorious, wonderful life.

A resplendently told account of an underdog who triumphs.