Alistair Grim’s Odd Aquaticum

Alistair Grim’s Odd Aquaticum by Gregory Funaro, illustrated by Adam Stower (Alma Books) PB RRP $14.99

ISBN 9781846884092

Reviewed by Daniela Andrews

The crew of the Odditorium (a flying, magical house) are in hiding after their stand-off with Prince Nightshade in the prequel (Alistair Grim’s Odditorium) wrongly depicted Alistair Grim as the villain. In this, the sequel, the crew of the Odditorium needs to clear Alistair’s name and, incidentally, save the world, by defeating the real villain (Prince Nightshade). The task isn’t easy – Prince Nightshade’s suit of magical armour cannot be pierced with any old magical item. The mythical sword, Excalibur, is the only blade that will, er, cut it. This adventurous quest leads them on a gripping, underwater adventure to Avalon … complete with a dangerous banshee, hostile witch and a good dose of sea monsters.

This amusing story is set in Victorian England and narrated in first-person perspective by 12-year-old Grubb, who likes to directly address the reader. He’s quite a likeable character – still the quiet, unassuming, kind-hearted chimney sweep from the beginning of the series. The first novel revealed that the talented sorcerer, Alistair Grim, was his father. This second book in the series reveals the true identity of Prince Nightshade, and adds some more clues about Grubb’s mother.

For readers new to the series, the first chapter includes a brief recap of the events from the prequel. It also provides details of the Odditorium, its crew and its sources of magical energy. (In Grubb’s voice: ‘… I best back up to the beginning. Otherwise you might get confused and abandon this adventure altogether.’) As per the first book, there are lots of characters, and lots of magical items (Odditoria) to keep track of. Therefore, the book includes a helpful glossary of both.

The chapter openings feature black-and-white illustrations by the award-winning Adam Stower. The whimsical caricatures complement the text perfectly, without interrupting the story.

The book will appeal to fans of magical fantasy, aged 8–12 years, who will no doubt be thrilled to learn that Gregory Funaro is busy working away on the next book in the Odditorium series!

The Castle of Inside Out

The Castle of Inside Out by David Henry Wilson, illustrated by Chris Riddell (Alma Books Ltd)  PB RRP $14.99

ISBN 9781846883965

Reviewed by Daniela Andrews

A girl follows a talking rabbit to a magical place where language play abounds and with word games aplenty. The magical land is ruled by pigs that have thrown the humans outside the castle and are now mistreating them in retaliation for their own former treatment of animals. Confused about which book I’m reviewing? It is neither Alice in Wonderland nor Animal Farm, but this fast-paced, gripping fantasy novel has been aptly described as a meeting of the two.

The politely inquisitive protagonist, Lorina, is on a mission to find a mysterious castle for her school project. A black rabbit offers directions, but he warns her to stay away from the ‘outsiders’, the horrible green people. He reassures her that those in the castle, ‘the insiders’, are lovely, educated and civilised. Lorina bravely sets off to find the truth for herself, wondering if her rabbit guide is, in fact, misguided. She also wants to know why there are toxic fumes spilling out from the castle.

Originally published in 1997, this novel makes a welcome return to today’s bookshelves. The illustrations by the talented Chris Riddell, Children’s Laureate, are black-and-white, deeply detailed drawings rich in texture. They manage to convey absurdity and sense at the same time, thus suiting the novel perfectly. 

Readers are introduced to a vast array of cleverly named animals, such as the ‘bureaurat’, the ‘super-viper’, a ‘farmadillo’, a ‘custoadian’ and the egotistical leader – the ‘piggident’. The writer shapes the characters’ dialogue around their animal sound. The cat, for example, says ‘niaobody’ and ‘niaothing’ and the gobbling turkey (‘turnkey’) says ‘problobloblem’ and ‘followollowollow’. There is a stand-out alliterative passage showcasing the menu of the cuckoo (‘cookoo’) that made me want to put the book down and burst into applause. This novel begs to be read aloud – perhaps a reflection of the author’s prior success as a playwright.

The story casts a satirical spotlight on government and asks the reader to question the effect of power upon compassion. Though the novel is quite whimsical in nature, older readers won’t miss its darker undertones. The emotive distance with which these issues are raised does make the story accessible to younger readers. I’d recommend the novel for readers aged 8–12.