the tale of despereaux

[pianonut]

do any of you like reading children's books as much as your children.  was just perusing a book my daughter brought home entitled 'the tale of despereaux' by kate dicamillo.  the cover entices me.  "this is the story of despereaux tilling, a mouse in love with music, stories, and a princess named Pea.  It is also the story of a rat called Roscum, who lives in darkness but, covets a world filled with light.  And, it is the story of Miggery sow, a slow-witted serving girl with a simple, impossible wish.  These characters are about to embark on a journey that will lead them down into a horrible dungeon, up into a glittering castle, and ultimately into each other's lives..."

here is an excerpt from the first pages:  "the story begins within the walls of a castle, with the birth of a mouse.  a small mouse.  the last mouse born to his parents and the only one of his litter to be born alive.  "where are my babies?" said the exhausted motehr when the ordeal was through. "show me my babies."  the father mouse held the one small mouse up high. "there is only this one," he said.  "the others are dead."  "mon dieu, just the one mouse baby?"...he goes on to be named despereaux because his mother thinks he will die just like all the others. 

this book is on par with beatrice potter's works.  any other good children's books (especially about music)? 

[greyrune]

i don't know of any, i don't have kids yet and i don't read kids books anymore (except Calvin and Hobbes, no matter how old you get they will always rock!).  However when something is in demand it can always be supplied somehow, so i propose a collective musical childrens story for publication as soon as it's finnished.  I'll start, and answer the original post too, we can have multiple subjects in one post, i think we're all mature enough for that.  Remember to keep it PG.

Once upon a time (got to start there really) in a deep dark forest there lived a family of badgers (might as well keep to the multi-talented animal theme, seems to have worked so far).  Now these were not just any badgers, along with being able to talk and having opposable thumbs, which is nothing in a deep dark wood as everyone knows, these badgers were musical badgers.  Most badgers live dull lives digging, eating and breeding, with the occasion burrow social to look forward to, but this family was the life and pride of the whole mile square area (which is about as adventurous as badgers generally get).  They held regular concerts playing their favourite peices: the Pastural symphony, Abadgionata, once even the famous peice La Mer when Debusalmon swam all the way from the coast to conduct.  However their pride and joy was their little son Fred, who was the most talented pianist anyone had heard since the great Wolfgang Amadeerus Mouseart.  He would play and play all day long, the birds would join him sometimes for a song, and he was content in his life of musical bliss.  But then one day.....

[thalbergmad]

How about Sparkys Magic Piano. It's about a little boy that hates practising, but then discovers his piano is magic.

The Piano makes him a great virtuoso.

I'm giving away the plot here. I have it on video, not sure if it was originally a book.

[pianonut]

dear greyrune, please continue!  i was impressed with your story.

dear thalburgmad,  i will look up that book, too.  my three year old is kind of into story time now (will be four in september).

i hope i don't get into trouble with copyright, but this tale of despereaux is killing me.  Chapter 7 starts in with princess pea telling despereaux that his ears are lovely. "he laid his tail against the Pea's wrist to steady himself, and felt the princess's pulse, the pounding of her heart, and his own heart immediately took up the rhythm of hers."  such a romantic animal story!  couldn't help taking a peek at the end, too where despereaux's tail is cut off and stiff and he has to use it as a sword to rescue pea.  it gets quite violent at the end. 

[greyrune]

well somebody else has to add something to it, i'm not made of creativity, however i'll give it another shot.

Once upon a time (got to start there really) in a deep dark forest there lived a family of badgers (might as well keep to the multi-talented animal theme, seems to have worked so far).  Now these were not just any badgers, along with being able to talk and having opposable thumbs, which is nothing in a deep dark wood as everyone knows, these badgers were musical badgers.  Most badgers live dull lives digging, eating and breeding, with the occasion burrow social to look forward to, but this family was the life and pride of the whole mile square area (which is about as adventurous as badgers generally get).  They held regular concerts playing their favourite peices: the Pastural symphony, Abadgionata, once even the famous peice La Mer when Debusalmon swam all the way from the coast to conduct.  However their pride and joy was their little son Fred, who was the most talented pianist anyone had heard since the great Wolfgang Amadeerus Mouseart.  He would play and play all day long, the birds would join him sometimes for a song, and he was content in his life of musical bliss. But then one day.....

a mysterious stranger entered the lives of the innocent badgers that was to change their lives and their music forever.

It all began one lovely summers day as Fred was doing a quick warm up with the Bearch 3 part inventions.  He noticed a shadow come over his keyboard and looked up to find an imposing looking shrew standing over him.  He quickly recovered and stood up to greet this stranger.
"Hi there" he said putting out his claw, "I'm Fred, i've not seen you around these parts before."  The stranger returned the handshake with a clammy paw.
"No i've just arrived, i'd heard of your burrow and thought i would pay you a visit, may i have a play."
"By all means" Fred smiled broadly always happy to hear someone else play, "go right ahead."  The shrew composed himself at the piano and began to play.  Suddenly Fred went from his usual state of complacent happiness to panic.  The sounds coming out of his beautiful piano were torment.  Surely this creature was slowly torturing it, killing it none too softly with his song.
"Stop, stop" he cried out.  The shrew looked around slowly, a grin spreading across it's face.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked
"What are you doing to my beloved piano" Fred was quite worried now "you're hurting her."
"This is just my music" replied the stranger, "many people like it."
"But that's not music what kind of monster would call that beauty?  Who are you that you would take away music's very soul?"
"But surely you have heard of me" he gave a quick toss of his head, "My name is Shrewnberg....."

There you go there's part two, and a satisfactory way for me to break into the triple digits.

[pianonut]

shrewnberg?!  very good.  well, continuing the story:

johann cage (fred's nephew) who happens to play modern music and is decent competition for shrewnberg was immediately summoned  from the highrise (tree) in which he composed music by the ensuing silence.  fred, in the meantime, told shrewnberg that he learned johann cage's 4'3" and would he like to hear it (considering that shrewnberg might not like his competitors music played).  he waited exactly four minutes and three seconds, during which shrewnberg bit his pawnails and anxiously awaited what he thought was going to be an emotionally charged performance.  shrews don't know anything about badgers!  the music was so unemotional and distatesful, that it defended fred better than johann cage himself.  shrewnberg left, shrugging his shoulders and mutterring things like "there were no toen rows...yes, 4 and 3 are multiples of 12, but that's as far as it goes...just goes to show that musical genius - or lack of it - runs in families"

fred went back to happily recusitating his beloved piano (who happenned to double as his girlfriend)  he consoled her and told her that everything would be ok.  no one like shrewnberg would ever bring her such distate and melancholy if he could help it.  wanting to cheer her - he began playing clair de loon (the loons even joined in) with more passion than badgers usually have.  being that he was a musically precocious badger, he played with more than the usual disinterest - and did not hurry the tempo as he was want to do before his first lessons with antonia browntano (with whom he learnt the 'abadgionata.'

little did he realize that his chance meeting with shrewnberg would bring him nightmares from then on.  he was even scared of his own shadow.  but, more than that, he was afraid for his beloved piano's safety when he was gone on his musical excursions to...

[greyrune]

lol, i never noticed the 4x3=12 thing, hmm... interesting (or is it?), never been a huge fan of silence myself, tends to get awkward. anyway...

the neighbouring burrows.  He would tour the area given tips to young and upcoming badgers, though few had any actual talent as most badgers, as i believe may have previously been said, are not very interesting creatures.  However these trips were now ruined for him, he could no longer concentrate and was always thinking of his beloved piano and it's awful torture at the hands of Shrewnberg.  So he decided that in order to completely heal the damage done he would have to learn the art and beauty of discord so that his lovely piano could recover from the trauma, and understand that what she had suffered was an experience she could grow from.  So he decided that his first stop would be to go and see a great musician he had heard rumours of.  He lived far far away on a snowy mountain and his name was said to be Ratmaninov.

So Fred set off.  He arrived a few weeks later after a prolonged farewell to his piano (she had kept going out of tune just to make him feel guilty) and a small incident involving a turkey and some asparagus (it was quite intriguing really and completely inexplicable).  So with icicles dangling from his snout, he finally reached the entrance to a cosy looking cave a the top of the mountain.  Inside he saw an old rat sitting behind a piano and making some of the most gorgeous noises Fred had ever heard.  He stepped into the firelight and the rat looked up slowly.
"Expected you have been" he said slowly.
"Oh," said Fred, lost for words.
"Yes know all about you i do" croaked the rat, "come in."  Fred stepped into the cave and found it to be a homely little place with a pot simmering over a fire, some kind of soup was in it.
"So wish to learn of my music you do?"
"Yes" replied Fred "that would be lovely, but how do you make the wrong notes sound so good."
"Ahhhh" the wisened old rat nodded sagely, "in time this you will learn."

So Fred spent the next month with Ratmaninov in his little cave eating soup and learning of basic discord.  Then one morning he had a vision.  He saw his piano in pain, Shrewnberg had returned and was playing her once again.  He saw the badgers of his burrow being told that this was good music, and none of them wanted to say it was bad becuase then they'd look stupid.  Johann was unfortunately too wrapped up in composing his next peice.  He had been playing it for three days straight now and was about to get to the second note, he was very excited.
"I must leave" said Fred already beginning to pack his meagre belongings.
"No" said Ratmaniniov urgently "Not ready are you, learn more you must before you can face Shrewnberg again."
"But i must go, my beloved is in pain" Fred was almost shouting in his desparation
"Music is not always as it seems" replied the rat calmly "time sometimes distorted is, wary of this you must be.  Yet your need i feel is great, perhaps more can you learn with another."
"Who?"
"A greater discord there is to be learned yet.  Find the one they call Procowfiev.  Find him you will in the great pastures to the south."

So the young badger set out to find this Procowfiev before he could return to finally vanquish Shrewnberg.  It was to be a long and arduous journey, coincidentally he ran into the same turkey again, and they had a good time reminiscing about old times...

[pianonut]

Ratmaninov!?  you are very creative!  Procowfiev!?  ok.  fred, after talking turkey for some time (to a turkey) found out that due south was actually not the direction he had been taking.  (in actuality, he had taken the path of least resistance - well trodden by many an explorer badger - and was along a river that flowed from the north mountain that he had just visted to a more south westerly direction)  he thought he might die from heat and exhaustion if it weren't for the river that kept dwindling down to less and less water the closer he meandered toward his rendevouz with his hoped for meeting with Procowfiev.  sure enough, as he cleared out of some heavy brush and headed for pastures, there was Procowfiev, kind of scowling and looking studious over his next piano cowcerto.  he had incorporated many seconds into the score (being that cows have two horns and two being an important number to procowfiev).  he was such a mathematician (that fred was astounded).  he seemed to know pie very well.  infact, he knew how to even MAKE pie.  cowpie that is.  this impressed fred.  to see such compositions come to life with complete relaxation and in the middle of a pasture no less.  this concentration level was certain going to impress shrewnberg - because he was a type A personality and had no confidence that a badger could ever keep up with him, let alone learn the secrets of composition that he did (constipated though he was).

ok.  i've made this story go in the wrong direction!  back to the girlfriend piano at home.  she was sorry she had gone out of tune to make fred feel guilty, and had been trying to make up for it by avoiding humidity.  she felt like she was going to crack without fred playing her (this sounds even worse).  ok.  keep going.  dear fred, she kept thinking, what has happened to him?  little did she know, he would only be a week away (badgers take some time to get from here to there) and that her fears would be assuaged by his new style of composing and playing.  a sort of badgeresque feeling came over her, and she thought warmly about fred all the way down to her pedals.   

[greyrune]

Previously on "The tale of despereaux" (please don't sue for plaigerism) Young Fred met his nemesis the evil Shrewnberg.  Disgusted and traumatised by this creature's music Fred set out on a journey of musical exploration that was to prepare him for the final confrontation with the atonal creations of the shrew.  While Fred was learning under the wise Ratmaninov and the relaxed yet profoundly deep procowfiev, his beloved piano was trapped back at home being tortured by the relentless pounding that was inflicted on her.  So Fred began his jouney home to his burrow knowing that the final confrontation was due.  And now the thrilling conclusion of "The tale of despereaux".

So after another long and arduous journey Fred's own burrow was finally in sight.  How he longed to stroke the keys of his beloved, to tease beauty from her strings once again.  He thought of these things yet he knew that all would be in vain if he could not defeat the evil Shrewnberg.  His memories of his first experience of this music were still at the back of his mind, the nameless fear that crept into his dreams at night, well he knew the name now but it was still scary.  He dreaded the final confrontation yet he knew that the only way he could ever be happy again was to win.  Finally he reached the enclosure where his piano stood.  Sure enough there was Srewnberg.  He sat with a group of badgers around him, all nodding sagely as he spoke of inversions and augmentations, none knowing what the hell he was talking about.

Fred strode boldly into the centre of the circle.  The Shrew looked up, for a second the calm veneer of his face broken, but it soon recomposed, he gave a wide smile.
"So," he said, "you came back"
"But of course" Fred replied, calm in the face of his inner turmoil, as all good performers should be, "you didn't think i'd leave you here to corrupt these innocent minds did you?"
"Well actually yes i did" replied the shrew "i thought you'd pissed off for good"
"Well i haven't and now i'm afraid you're going to have to leave."
"Why ever would i do that?" Shrewnberg laughed or was it a cackle? it was hard for the untrained ear to percieve but Fred now had an ear that could tell a quarter tone with ease not to mention distinguish a tap from a prod or stamp from a stomp, so a cackle (he decided on cackle) was hardly a problem for him.
"I'll tell you what, if i can beat you in an improvisation contest will you leave?"
The shrew scoffed (another sound which Fred carefully distinguished from a chuckle)
"Very well, if you can do that then i'l leave, but it's hardly possible it's a mere matter of taste"
"Ok" Fred replied "we'll have a teame of judeges, you may choose whomever you like"
"Excellent, i pick these four" he pointed to the four closest to him "These are my closest subjects, they know what's good music.  We play tomorrow at dawn."  So the two parted, Fred to greet his family again - who had been forced into burrow arrest as musical heretics - and Shrewnberg to the cold comfort of his luxurious new burrow and the sycophantic crooning of those around him.

At dawn they rose.  As they walked out into the clearing the first ray of sunshine sprung through the trees shining directly on the piano bathing it in a pool of light (i'm going for the cheese effect here, after all badgers like cheese don't they?).  Shrewnberg stalked to the piano and took his seat without saying a word.  The four judges stood by attentive.  The shrew tapped out a few sparse notes then frowned.
"This bloody thing's out of tune again, how many times do i have to retune it?"
"Hold on" said Fred, "Let me"  He walked up the piano and lovingly ran his claw across the ivory.  "It's alright" he whishpered, "i can do this, don't you worry my dear, you'll be getting plaid (sic, ooh sexual innuendo there) again soon."
So Shrewnberg sat down again, he began doubtfully but soon saw the notes were in perfect tune.  Fred heard an A and counted - yep, definately 440 waves there.  So the competition began.

Shrewnberg began with a simple theme, the twelve notes played in an almost melodic phrase.  Then he began to twist in and bend it.  Melodies becam harmonies, harmonies disappeared into a wall of sound.  But Fred heard it differently now.  He heard the numbers, he heard them twist, he saw mathmatical genious being played.  the shrew was so fast, he would multiply everything by three, divide by four, bend it symetrically, all in a split second.  Yet while Fred could hear the numbers and see thier natural beauty he saw the weakness he would exploit.  There was no soul, the music was empty, and he intended to fill it.  So the playing ended.  The judeges clapped wildly, spouting meaningless complents.  Then, eyeing the shrew as he stood, smirking quietly, Fred took his place at the piano.

He began with a simple melody as the shrew had done only this one sounded beautiful in its simplicity.  The he began to add a simple harmony, chord I, chord V.  Shrewnberg quietly gloated in his corner.  This was uninteresting simplicity, he couldn't see the beatuy in it.  Then Fred began to build.  The shrew heard a seventh, and shrugged, a ninth he arched his brow, a thirteenth, he was still not nervous.  Then Fred brought back his first melody.  The harmony was dropped the simplicity regained.  Then he played the most beatiful three part counterpoint, only in the wrong key, the beauty remained but with an uneasiness that was part of the soul of this so tormented badger.  The shrew was shocked for the first time.  Then the variations began, so many and so fast, moving into every key from tonality into wild and expressive discord.  The shrew was flaberghasted (i've always wanted to use that word) he saw his own music unravel before him.  His head hung in shame.  When Fred drew to his final dramatic close the judges only stood in silence.  There was no applause but a silent agreement, all in the glen knew what was to happen, and the shrew left dejected, not even daring to put up a fight.

So everything ended happily, there was a big party with lots of nice music, everyone learned an important lesson and Fred was reunited with his piano.

The End

Well done if you read through all that, if not, it's probably not worth it anyway.

[pianonut]

not worth it?  any story that someone takes the time to express their creative side is worth reading!  it shows how much we understand about piano, composition, etc.  i think all pianists should, at some point in their career, write a piano story with lots of musical terminology (if only for the younger students).  if it has animals in it, it's even better. 

i like your story.  but it is not the story of desperaux.  it is the story of fred.  fred, the badger, and his piano girlfriend. 

continuing the story:  fred decided right then and there to propose to his piano.  he had envisioned perhaps the setting you described at dawn, with the light beaming down on her and him getting down on one paw and looking up.  but, being that he was so short, always looking up, and only able to glimpse her beautiful keys occasionally (without the help of the local phone directory) - he managed to create another setting.  one that would not blind him by direct sunlight, and give him a better view of her key cleavage (oh dear, did i say that?).

he found a ledge (badgers like ledges), and carefully lowered an engagement ring into full view, while also lowering a sign that read "my dear piano, will you marry me?"  the piano, rolling with delight, played C (do - of the do-re-mi scale) to say i do.  all the badgers watching expectantly repeated 'doh?' oh, yes, we 'c' - she means "i doh."  (not i don't)  they honeymooned near the river and lived happily ever after.