First published in 1963, and then reprinted in this 1989 edition, Beni Montresor's The Witches of Venice is an original fairy-tale that makes use of a number of traditional folkloric themes, and which was, in the mid 1990s, made into an opera by composer Philip Glass. Opening with the childless King and Queen of Venice, it develops along fairly standard lines at first, with two Fairies of the Lagoon, in a move reminiscent of such tales as Thumbelina, offering the king a magic plant that will blossom into a boy. Here the narrative departs from the conventional fairy-tale trajectory, however, as the king refuses to believe the fairies - dismissing them rudely as "stupid girls" - and chucks the plant out the window. Even when it blossoms (a kind maid having planted it), and produces a boy, the king refuses to relent, and the little flower-plant boy is made a prisoner in the castle courtyard. It is only when he learns of the existence of a little flower-plant girl, said to be in the keeping of the two Witches of Venice, that he takes heart and, with the help of the Wind, sets out to find her...

I really liked the way in which Montresor set this story up, with all the narrative clues initially pointing in one direction, and raising the expectation that this would be a certain kind of tale - the kind in which a childless couple obtain a tiny infant through extraordinary magical means, whether by plant generation, or honey-comb construction - and then departing from that expected story trajectory into something else. Something similar, but different. What an interesting character the king is, unable to admit his mistake, even when the evidence is staring him in the face - determined, in fact, to bury that evidence, and keep it from the eyes of all around him. Montresor's artwork is just as compelling as his text, with a definite vintage sensibility that is difficult to describe. I like the simultaneous detail (the intricate lines) and obscurity (the "fuzziness") of his illustrations, and particularly appreciated the pigeon-vehicle that the flower-plant boy uses, and the faces of the anthropomorphized Sun and Wind, who help him.

Definitely something unique, The Witches of Venice is a book I would recommend to fairy-tale lovers in the mood for something a little bit strange and a lot bit lovely, and to fans of Beni Montresor's art. ( )