{"product_id":"the-hotel-balzaar-isbn-9781536223316","title":"The Hotel Balzaar","description":"\u003cb\u003eAn instant \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestseller!\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eIn a wise and magical follow-up to \u003ci\u003eThe Puppets of Spelhorst\u003c\/i\u003e, Kate DiCamillo revisits the land of Norendy, where tales swirl within tales—and every moment is a story in the making.\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt the Hotel Balzaar, Marta’s mother rises before the sun, puts on her uniform, and instructs Marta to roam as she will but \u003ci\u003equietly\u003c\/i\u003e, invisibly—like a little mouse. While her mother cleans rooms, Marta slips down the back staircase to the grand lobby to chat with the bellman, study the painting of an angel’s wing over the fireplace, and watch a cat chase a mouse around the face of the grandfather clock, all the while dreaming of the return of her soldier father, who has gone missing. One day, a mysterious countess with a parrot checks in, promising a story—in fact, seven stories in all, each to be told in its proper order. As the stories unfold, Marta begins to wonder: could the secret to her father’s disappearance lie in the countess’s tales? Book two in a trio of novellas bound by place and mood—with elegant line art by Júlia Sardà—\u003ci\u003eThe Hotel Balzaar\u003c\/i\u003e masterfully juggles yearning and belief, shining light into every dark corner.A slim and elegant book in which stories both enthrall and exasperate a young girl. . . Júlia Sardà’s line drawings have a cool, amused Art Deco feel, adding visual charm to this wise and gentle second volume of Ms. DiCamillo’s “Norendy Tales” series for readers ages 7-10.\u003cbr\u003e—Wall Street Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe book has a wonderfully gloomy setting and mood, but DiCamillo makes sure that warmth and hope shine through…. There’s no shortage of plot twists or memorable characters. If you like looking for hidden connections in books, or if you want a classic feel-good story with a twist, The Hotel Balzaar is a great book for you.\u003cbr\u003e—Time for Kids\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTwo-time Newberry winner DiCamillo returns with this delightful story about Marta, who lives at the titular hotel. Her mother works in housekeeping, and Marta spends her days talking to guests and roaming the halls. When she meets the countess and Blitzkopf the parrot, the magical stories she hears helps her to solve a painful mystery. Black-and-white drawings by Sardà create a Gothic atmosphere.\u003cbr\u003e—Los Angeles Times\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn this follow-up to \u003ci\u003eThe Puppets of Spelhorst\u003c\/i\u003e, DiCamillo showcases the capacity for storytelling to soothe and inspire hope in a pithy, nuanced tale peppered with gentle humor and enduring grace. Striking illustrations by Sardà recall woodcutting and elegant art deco line art.\u003cbr\u003e—Publishers Weekly (starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGenerous, rich, and inviting.\u003cbr\u003e—The Horn Book\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA delightful, thoughtful escape to a magical world.\u003cbr\u003e—Kirkus Reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis second entry in DiCamillo’s 'Norendly Tales' trilogy features charming black-and-white drawings from Sardà that bring the magic to life. Tied to the first volume with shared themes of love and loss, hope and despair, and darkness and light, this original fairy tale tells its own unique story, ultimately leaving readers with a hopeful message. . . . Enthusiastically recommended.\u003cbr\u003e—School Library Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn this magical companion to \u003ci\u003eThe Puppets of Spelhorst\u003c\/i\u003e, two-time Newbery Medalist revisits the land of Norendy in an original fairytale about a lonely girl and a mysterious countess.\u003cbr\u003e—Pioneer Press\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEven longtime fans will be unprepared for the magic, mystery and lyricism of \u003ci\u003eThe Hotel Balzaar.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e—Montreal Gazette\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDiCamillo manages a tender concept while avoiding twee sentimentality, instead capturing the power of stories to not only reflect reality but also shape it.\u003cbr\u003e—The Bulletin\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKate DiCamillo is one of our best storytellers. She’s written beloved classics set in the modern world, from the best-selling Because of Winn-Dixie and Raymie Nightingale right up to this year’s sweet Ferris. She also writes…well, fables? Stories that are not quite in the modern world of cars and cell phones but aren’t quite full-blown fantasies either. Books like The Tale Of Despereaux and The Magician’s Elephant. And now she’s sharing what DiCamillo calls “Tales of Norendy.” Norendy is an almost mythical, but quite real setting. It’s just tinged by magic and stories are better there. Last year brought an instant classic with The Puppets Of Spelhorst. Now DiCamillo has done it again with The Hotel Balzaar, a charming tale about a little girl in a big hotel, a talking parrot, a sad mother, a missing father (the war, you know, will do that at times, misplace people), a wealthy countess, a kind bellman and the stories they tell. It’s a delight.\u003cbr\u003e—Parade\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDiCamillo’s writing is lyrical, as usual, and equal credit has to go to Sarda’s exquisite, detailed illustrations of the hotel lobby, the furniture and the Countess’ deco robes and huge hats that capture vibes of the 1920s.\u003cbr\u003e—Pioneer Press\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKate DiCamillo weaves a story within a story about hope alive, even amid despair. . . A delightful book featuring Júlia Sardà's line art illustrations.\u003cbr\u003e—WORLD Magazine\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDiCamillo’s spare story and Júlia Sardà’s black-and-white drawings conjure the atmosphere of a fairy tale and the yearning of a family divided by war.\u003cbr\u003e—Christian Science Monitor\u003cb\u003eKate DiCamillo\u003c\/b\u003e is one of America’s most beloved storytellers. She is a former National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature and a two-time Newbery Medalist. Born in Philadelphia, she grew up in Florida and now lives in Minneapolis.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eJúlia Sardà\u003c\/b\u003e is the illustrator of many books for young readers, including \u003ci\u003eThe Queen in the Cave\u003c\/i\u003e,\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003ewhich she also wrote, and \u003ci\u003eMoving the Millers’ Minnie Moore Mine Mansion: A True Story\u003c\/i\u003e by Dave Eggers.\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003eShe lives in Barcelona.\u003cb\u003eChapter One\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn March of that year, Marta and her mother arrived at the Hotel Balzaar. They were given an attic room that contained a bed, a sink, and a battered chest of drawers.\u003cbr\u003e   The small room had a round window that faced east, and the sun, when it rose each morning, shone into the room with a beguiling brilliance—lighting up the bed frame, the porcelain of the sink, and the faded flowers on the wallpaper.\u003cbr\u003e   Every morning, Marta’s mother got up before the sun. She washed her face and put on her uniform, and then she bent over Marta and kissed her forehead and said to her again the words she had spoken on their first morning there: “All day long you must be quiet, quiet. You may leave the room, but wherever you go, you must be as quiet as a small mouse. You must bother no one. You must not be a nuisance, ever. You understand? You can do this?”\u003cbr\u003e   “Yes, Mama,” said Marta. “I can do this.”\u003cbr\u003e   After her mother left, Marta got up and washed at the sink. She brushed her teeth and dressed. She took the back stairs, wooden, worn, and dark (“Not the elevator,” her mother had said. “Never the elevator. The elevator is not for us.”), all the way down to the first floor, to the lobby of the Hotel Balzaar, which was a grand, high-ceilinged room outfitted with potted palms and ashtray stands, velvet chairs and overstuffed couches strewn with cushions of green and gold. The cushions were worn threadbare in places, but they were carefully arranged so that the bald spots did not show.\u003cbr\u003e   In the morning, the lobby was hushed and gray and dim. But by late afternoon, the room was filled to overflowing with light, almost as if someone were standing high above the Hotel Balzaar pouring molten gold from a pitcher and murmuring, \u003ci\u003eThere must be more light, more light. More, yes. And yet more.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   At one end of the lobby was a fireplace. Above it hung a huge painting of a brown field and dark clouds; if you looked closely, you could see a single lighted wing emerging from one of the clouds.\u003cbr\u003e   Marta had decided that this wing, with its incandescent feathers, belonged to an angel.\u003cbr\u003e   But why was there only one wing? And was the angel arriving? Or was the angel departing?\u003cbr\u003e   Marta could never make up her mind.\u003cbr\u003e   At the other end of the lobby, there was a large grandfather clock, the face of which featured a cat chasing a mouse through the hours and minutes of the day.\u003cbr\u003e   Every morning, Marta would first go and look at the angel wing, and then she would walk to the other end of the lobby and consider the clock.\u003cbr\u003e   Always, as she stared at the painting and the clock, Marta stood with her hands behind her back.\u003cbr\u003e   “Touch nothing,” her mother had said, “for nothing is yours to touch. Do not sit on the furniture. The chairs are not ours to sit upon. Speak if you are spoken to; speak only if you have no choice. Otherwise, do not speak. Quiet, quiet like a little mouse.”\u003cbr\u003e   So Marta stood—quiet, quiet, hands behind her back—and considered the fate of the clock mouse, to be forever chased by the clock cat. It was good, she supposed, that the mouse would never be caught. But still, he must run and run; the mouse must run without ceasing until the end of time, and that was disturbing to consider.\u003cbr\u003e   Sometimes, it was so quiet in the lobby of the Hotel Balzaar that Marta could hear the mechanical whir the cat and the mouse made as they moved around the face of the clock, chasing each other for all eternity.\u003cbr\u003e   At the entrance to the lobby was the bellman’s stand. This post was perpetually occupied by a man named Norman Francis Binwithier.\u003cbr\u003e   Norman was five hundred, or perhaps six hundred, years old. His teeth were yellow. Huge tufts of hair sprang from his ears. His bellman’s suit was shiny at the knees and the elbows, and he wore his little bellman’s cap at a jaunty angle so that it obscured his left eye.\u003cbr\u003e   Norman could sleep standing up with his back very straight and a smile on his face.\u003cbr\u003e   “A skill, my dear,” Norman had said to Marta the first time he woke and found her studying him, “a skill of incalculable worth.”\u003cbr\u003e   Marta backed up. She felt her face flush.\u003cbr\u003e   “Norman Francis Binwithier, at your service,” said Norman. He clicked his heels together and took the cap from his head and bowed deeply to her.\u003cbr\u003e   “I’m not supposed to talk to anyone,” Marta said.\u003cbr\u003e   “Of course,” said Norman. He put the little hat back on his head and it immediately slid down and covered his left eye.\u003cbr\u003e   “We have not spoken,” said Norman, “you and I. In this business, discretion is everything. Discretion is all. Speaking of discretion, may I say that I have noticed you discreetly studying the painting and also the clock?” He smiled.\u003cbr\u003e   Marta smiled back.\u003cbr\u003e   “I’m Marta,” she said.\u003cbr\u003e   Immediately, she regretted saying her name. She heard her mother’s voice: \u003ci\u003eSpeak only if you have no choice.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   “Marta,” said Norman. “Marta, the lady who studies art and time. Marta, whom I have never met, spoken to, or seen.” He winked at her. “Discretion, you see?”\u003cbr\u003e   Norman slept most of the day, always with the small smile on his face.\u003cbr\u003e   If he was awake, he would look at Marta and wink a slow wink. Sometimes, he produced a coin from one of his hairy ears and presented it to her with a solemn bow.\u003cbr\u003e   Marta said to him, “You smile when you sleep. Are you dreaming?”\u003cbr\u003e   “Of course,” said Norman. “Otherwise what is the point to go away so?”\u003cbr\u003e   “What do you dream of?” asked Marta.\u003cbr\u003e   “What a question from someone who is not supposed to speak!”\u003cbr\u003e   Marta’s face grew warm. She looked down at the scuffed toes of her shoes.\u003cbr\u003e   “Shh, shh, so,” said Norman. “I will tell you. I dream of the meadow behind my grandfather’s house. I dream of the blue flowers there, and of the tall grass and the bees buzzing. What do you dream of, lady?”\u003cbr\u003e   “I don’t dream,” said Marta.\u003cbr\u003e   This was not true.\u003cbr\u003e   She did dream.\u003cbr\u003e   She dreamed of her father returning.\u003cbr\u003e   It was a dream in which she opened a window or a door, and a dazzling square of light suddenly entered the room, and then behind the light was her father, wearing a black suit, walking toward her, smiling.\u003cbr\u003e   He walked with his arms stretched out on either side of him—balancing, balancing—and everywhere there was light.\u003cbr\u003e   She did not tell Norman about this dream.\u003cbr\u003e   She did not tell her mother, either—her mother, who slept beside her in the small bed in the attic room of the Hotel Balzaar.\u003cbr\u003e   Her mother who wept, sometimes, in the night.\u003cbr\u003e   What did Marta’s mother dream?\u003cbr\u003e   Marta did not know.\u003cbr\u003e   She was afraid to ask.","brand":"Candlewick","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301245571301,"sku":"NP9781536223316","price":17.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781536223316.jpg?v=1767739832","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-hotel-balzaar-isbn-9781536223316","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}