Today's review is on 8: The Previously Untold Story of the Previously Unknown 8th Dwarf by Michael MullinAs Mullin states in this book, many tales that have been spun by authors such as The Brothers Grimm, have been altered through the years to provide the elusive Happily Ever After. Truth be told however, not everyone gets that happy ending. Nor does good always triumph over evil. That is just one reason why I really enjoyed 8.
Written with the prose of a seasoned rhymer, 8 is filled with witty sarcasm that flows effortlessly from one sentence to the next. (If you can read this book without a smile on your face, I would be very surprised.)
What really happened to Snow White? In 8 you're given an even more plausible rendition; than that of Walt Disney, with the help of the unknown 8th dwarf.
Quick witted and all around cute, I love this dark take on this well loved tale. But what happened to the 8th dwarf in the end? Give me just one more page to let me know.
4 of 5 stars
Available @ Amazon
The Gothic
ReplyDeleteI am the poet of the dark
cropping in cold gardens
dead flowers
with pale hands
Am I being dark
who watches the night
with the look of a vampire
trying to find beauty
that lurks in every shadow
My eyes painted black
see what they can not
be seen
by mortal eyes
I am the night mist
ear of
gargoyles
the cathedrals
I wander in the dark skies
where the eyes of
crows
shine
the magical twilight
in the dark
see the light
few still
produces
and on earth where beings
day
creep
gently with plan
my wings
dark angel
My loneliness
devours the hours
waiting for the day is done
to fall on me
cover of night
where daydream
without arousing
My verses written
with blood
runs like a warm rain
in abandoned buildings
where I leave the lament of a world
ill
recorded
Disease left by beings
day
that destroy the world
with their impious rage
Who are the strangers?
Or are you crazy?
Leave me alone with my sorrow
because the left is crying
After all, someone needs to cry
then
it's me
being of darkness
Nosferatu
Let me light my fire
in the land of the dead souls
I lie down on the tombstones cold and pies
left by beings
of old
Let me sing
dark bowels
Close to me
the world is sick
maybe there is more healing
someone needs to cry
then it's me
being the dark night
Sandro Kretus