{"product_id":"the-magicians-elephant-isbn-9780763644109","title":"The Magician's Elephant","description":"\u003cb\u003eA \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestseller!\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKate DiCamillo conjures a haunting fable about trusting the unexpected and making the extraordinary come true.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat if? Why not? Could it be?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen a fortuneteller's tent appears in the market square of the city of Baltese, orphan Peter Augustus Duchene knows the questions that he needs to ask: Does his sister still live? And if so, how can he find her? The fortuneteller's mysterious answer (an elephant! An elephant will lead him there!) sets off a chain of events so remarkable, so impossible, that you will hardly dare to believe it’s true. With atmospheric illustrations by fine artist Yoko Tanaka, here is a dreamlike and captivating tale that could only be narrated by Newbery Medalist Kate DiCamillo. In this timeless fable, she evokes the largest of themes — hope and belonging, desire and compassion — with the lightness of a magician’s touch.Kate DiCamillo has a gift, inequitably distributed among writers of all kinds, of eliminating the obvious and still egging on the reader. She writes beautifully but thinks simply. The purity of her prose – the reader goes from paragraph to paragraph delighting in the wonderful simple sentences – only adds to the winsome purity of her vision.\u003cbr\u003e—New York Times Book Review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDiCamillo’s carefully crafted prose creates an evocative aura of timelessness for a story that is, in fact, timeless. Tanaka’s acrylic artwork is meticulous in detail and aptly matches the tone of the narrative.\u003cbr\u003e—School Library Journal (starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eReading like a fable told long ago, with rich language that begs to be read aloud, this is a magical story about hope and love, loss and home, and of questioning the world versus accepting it as it is.\u003cbr\u003e—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom the unexpectedly miraculous feats of a two-bit illusionist to the transformative powers of love, forgiveness, and a good mutton stew, there is much magic afoot in this fable-like tale… The profound and deeply affecting emotions at work in the story are buoyed up by the tale’s succinct, lyrical text, gentle touches of humor, and uplifting message of redemption, hope, and the interminable power of asking ‘what if?\u003cbr\u003e—Booklist (starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThoughtful readers will feel a quiet satisfaction with this almost dainty tale of impossible happenings.\u003cbr\u003e—VOYA\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDiCamillo’s allegorical novel seems to pack more mass per square inch than average. The plot is fantastical, surreal…And the prose is remarkable, reflecting influences from Kafka to the theater of the absurd to Laurel-and-Hardy humor.\u003cbr\u003e—The Horn Book\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe mannered prose and Tanaka's delicate, darkly hued paintings give the story a somber and old-fashioned feel. The absurdist elements—street vendors peddle chunks of the now-infamous opera house ceiling with the cry “Possess the plaster of disaster!”—leaven the overall seriousness, and there is a happy if predictable ending for the eccentric cast of anguished characters, each finding something to make them whole.\u003cbr\u003e—Publishers Weekly\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKate DiCamillo tells a tale of ‘hope, redemption, faith, love, and believing in the impossible’ with her usual quiet elegant prose.\u003cbr\u003e—Library Media Connection\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTanaka’s shadowy, evocative acrylic paintings echo the dreamy nature of the storytelling and add a surprising amount of solidity (and a particularly nice elephant).\u003cbr\u003e—Bulletin of the Center of Children’s Books\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith its rhythmic sentences and fairy-tale tone, this novel yields solitary pleasures but begs to be read aloud. Hearing it in a shared space can connect us, one to one, regardless of age, much like the book's closing image: a small stone carving, hands linked, of the elephant's friends.\u003cbr\u003e—Washington Post Book World\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThough DiCamillo's first success was with realistic fiction, she has since explored fantasy, here looking at how individuals and society take an impossible event into their narrative of the way the world is. Is it broken or fixable by those who embrace the unusual?\u003cbr\u003e—Chicago Tribune\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDiCamillo's elegant, evocative prose underpins the otherworldliness of Baltese, a place where a long-accepted truth can be shattered as easily as an elephant crashes through the opera-house ceiling.\u003cbr\u003e—Austin American-Statesman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eReaders willing to venture a little deeper into the darkness will be reassured and rewarded by the singular sense of hope that nearly glows from DiCamillo's prose, and from the incandescent illustrations created by Yoko Tanaka.\u003cbr\u003e—Minneapolis Star Tribune\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe power of DiCamillo’s writing enables the hope and determination of the characters to break through the gloom that penetrates the story...DiCamillo has again captured the loneliness and unwavering optimism that can only be found in children.\u003cbr\u003e—Foreword\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUsing short yet powerful sentences and cinematic descriptions, DiCamillo creates another emotion-swelling gem in what is becoming an impressive crown of work.\u003cbr\u003e—Cleveland Plain Dealer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLyrical language and many interesting characters make this a wonderful read aloud book or one to be savored alone.\u003cbr\u003e—Kansas City Star\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBringing all these characters together for a happy ending requires its own special magic, which is enhanced by DiCamillo's finely rendered Old World writing style — and the gorgeously muted pencil illustrations of Los Angeles artist Yoko Tanaka.\u003cbr\u003e—Los Angeles Times\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA fairy tale, a mystery, a truly magical story of love and hope that will captivate readers young and old.\u003cbr\u003e—Christian Science Monitor\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFeatured\/recommended\u003cbr\u003e—Florida Times-Union on Jacksonville.com\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFeatured\/recommended on Oprah's 2012 Kids Reading List\u003cbr\u003e—Oprah.com\u003cb\u003eKate DiCamillo\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of \u003ci\u003eThe Tale of Despereaux, \u003c\/i\u003ewhich was awarded the Newbery Medal; \u003ci\u003eThe Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, \u003c\/i\u003ewinner of a \u003ci\u003eBoston Globe-Horn Book \u003c\/i\u003eAward; \u003ci\u003eBecause of Winn-Dixie, \u003c\/i\u003ea Newbery Honor winner; \u003ci\u003eThe Tiger Rising, \u003c\/i\u003ea National Book Award Finalist; the picture book \u003ci\u003eGreat Joy; \u003c\/i\u003eand six books starring Mercy Watson, including a Theodor Seuss Geisel Honor Book. She lives in Minneapolis.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eYoko Tanaka \u003c\/b\u003eis a graduate of the Art Center College in Pasadena, California. She is the illustrator of \u003ci\u003eTheodosia and the Serpents of Chaos\u003c\/i\u003e by R.L. LaFevers, and \u003ci\u003eSparrow Girl\u003c\/i\u003e by Sara Pennypacker. Yoko Tanaka lives in Los Angeles and Bangkok.At the end of the century before last, in the market square of the city of Baltese, there stood a boy with a hat on his head and a coin in his hand. The boy\u003cb\u003e’\u003c\/b\u003es name was Peter Augustus Duchene, and the coin that he held did not belong to him but was instead the property of his guardian, an old soldier named Vilna Lutz, who had sent the boy to the market for fish and bread.\u003cbr\u003e   That day in the market square, in the midst of the entirely unremarkable and absolutely ordinary stalls of the fishmongers and cloth merchants and bakers and silversmiths, there had appeared, without warning or fanfare, the red tent of a fortuneteller. Attached to the fortuneteller’s tent was a piece of paper, and penned upon the paper in a cramped but unapologetic hand were these words: \u003ci\u003eThe most profound and difficult questions that could possibly be posed by the human mind or heart will be answered within for the price of one florit.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   Peter read the small sign once, and then again. The audacity of the words, their dizzying promise, made it difficult, suddenly, for him to breathe. He looked down at the coin, the single florit, in his hand.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eBut I cannot do it,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e he said to himself. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eTruly, I cannot, for if I do, Vilna Lutz will ask where the money has gone and I will have to lie, and it is a very dishonorable thing to lie.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   He put the coin in his pocket. He took the soldier’s hat off his head and then put it back on. He stepped away from the sign and came back to it and stood considering, again, the outrageous and wonderful words.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eBut I must know,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e he said at last. He took the florit from his pocket. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eI want to know the truth. And so I will do it. But I will not lie about it, and in that way, I will remain at least partly honorable.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e With these words, Peter stepped into the tent and handed the fortuneteller the coin.\u003cbr\u003e   And she, without even looking at him, said, \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eOne florit will buy you one answer and only one. Do you understand?\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eYes,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said Peter.\u003cbr\u003e   He stood in the small patch of light making its sullen way through the open flap of the tent. He let the fortuneteller take his hand. She examined it closely, moving her eyes back and forth and back and forth, as if there were a whole host of very small words inscribed there, an entire book about Peter Augustus Duchene composed atop his palm.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eHuh,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e she said at last. She dropped his hand and squinted up at his face. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eBut, of course, you are just a boy.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eI am ten years old,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said Peter. He took the hat from his head and stood as straight and tall as he was able. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eAnd I am training to become a soldier, brave and true. But it does not matter how old I am. You took the florit, so now you must give me my answer.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eA soldier brave and true?\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said the fortuneteller. She laughed and spat on the ground. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eVery well, soldier brave and true, if you say it is so, then it is so. Ask me your question.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   Peter felt a small stab of fear. What if, after all this time, he could not bear the truth? What if he did not really want to know?\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eSpeak,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said the fortuneteller. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eAsk.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eMy parents,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said Peter.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eThat is your question?\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said the fortune-teller. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eThey are dead.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   Peter’s hands trembled. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eThat is not my question,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e he said. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eI know that already. You must tell me something that I do not know. You must tell me of another — you must tell me . . .\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   The fortuneteller narrowed her eyes. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eAh,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e she said. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eHer? Your sister? That is your question? Very well. She lives.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   Peter’s heart seized upon the words. \u003ci\u003eShe lives. She lives!\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eNo, please,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said Peter. He closed his eyes. He concentrated. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eIf she lives, then I must find her, so my question is, how do I make my way there, to where she is?\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   He kept his eyes closed; he waited.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eThe elephant,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said the fortuneteller.\u003cbr\u003e   \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eWhat?\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e Peter said. He opened his eyes, certain that he had misunderstood.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eYou must follow the elephant,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said the fortuneteller. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eShe will lead you there.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   Peter’s heart, which had risen up high inside of him, now sank slowly back to its normal resting place. He put his hat on his head. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eYou are having fun with me,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e he said. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eThere are no elephants here.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eJust as you say,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said the fortuneteller. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eThat is surely the truth, at least for now. But perhaps you have not noticed: the truth is forever changing.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e She winked at him. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eWait awhile,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e she said. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eYou will see.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   Peter stepped out of the tent. The sky was gray and heavy with clouds, but everywhere people talked and laughed. Vendors shouted and children cried and a beggar with a black dog at his side stood in the center of it all and sang a song about the darkness.\u003cbr\u003e   There was not a single elephant in sight.\u003cbr\u003e   Still, Peter’s stubborn heart would not be silenced. It beat out the two simple, impossible words over and over again: \u003ci\u003eShe lives, she lives, she lives.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   Could it be?\u003cbr\u003e   No, it could not be, for that would mean that Vilna Lutz had lied to him, and it was not at all an honorable thing for a soldier, a superior officer, to lie. Surely, Vilna Lutz would not lie. Surely he would not.\u003cbr\u003e   Would he?\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eIt is winter,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e sang the beggar. \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003eIt is dark and cold, and things are not what they seem, and the truth is forever changing.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e  “\u003c\/i\u003eI do not know what the truth is,\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e said Peter, \u003ci\u003e“\u003c\/i\u003ebut I do know that I must confess. I must tell Vilna Lutz what I have done.\u003ci\u003e”\u003c\/i\u003e He squared his shoulders, adjusted his hat, and began the long walk back to the Apartments Polonaise.","brand":"Candlewick","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300275998949,"sku":"NP9780763644109","price":19.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780763644109.jpg?v=1767740371","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/the-magicians-elephant-isbn-9780763644109","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}