Princess Ben (Murdock)

What happened to avoiding novels? Um. Permit me to explain myself. As you might have noted, the previous post concerned itself with a novel also, the consumption of which was fully justified - I would like to emphasize this: fully justified - by the nature of the story. While the events therein were fictional it wasn't so much about plot as ideals, aspirations and the false face of failure. I would read it again. I would buy it and add it to my shelf. I would pass it around to people I love. It isn't novels I set out to avoid but the cheap, easy entertainment they so frequently embody.

The present post I make with sheepish expression and cringing. (Yes, I have ceased explaining myself and now move on to self accusation. Forgive me if I slightly grovel.) Princess Ben is without justification, being book candy of the most pleasant and unremarkable sort. There is a princess and her life sucks. She suffers, rebels, finds a new passion, wanders, is exiled, and returns in triumph. It's the kind of well worn fictional fare that I insatiably lap up, gorging myself on escapism and impossible fantasy. Princess Ben is an especially appealing example of its kind. It's charming, fun, adventuresome, and built around an imperfect and amiable character. She progresses nicely through the chapters and by the end I could not have been more on her side. This piece of confectionery was delectable. I didn't regret it while I read it. It is only now, with powdered sugar dusting my cheeks and my teeth dissolving in my head, that I remember this is precisely the edible from which I was endeavoring to abstain. Oops.

Fantasy lovers take note. For a light, breezy read check into Princess Ben. For nutritionally rich mind mulch, go elsewhere. (Try the nonfiction section. I hear they have books there too.)