Even longtime fans will be unprepared for the magic, mystery and lyricism of The Hotel Balzaar, the second instalment in the lauded author’s trilogy.
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The Hotel Balzaar
By Kate DiCamillo
Illustrated by Júlia Sardà
Candlewick Press
Ages 7 to 10
It should come as no surprise that Kate DiCamillo can tell a good story. With numerous children’s books to her name, the American author has received more than a few awards over the years, including two Newbery Medals and a Newbery Honor.
Still, I was unprepared for the effect her latest book — The Hotel Balzaar, with a publication date of Oct. 1 — would have on me. When I finished my advance reading copy in the diner downstairs from my home and wadded up the soggy, tear-stained napkins, I called my favourite independent bookstore and preordered multiple copies to give to friends who might want to share it with their young kids — or enjoy it themselves, as I did (tears notwithstanding).
The Hotel Balzaar is a followup to The Puppets of Spelhorst, published in October 2023 with black-and-white illustrations by Vancouver’s Julie Morstad. But while I enjoyed that book — the first Norendy Tale in what is to be a trio of original fairy-tale novels illustrated by notable artists — the saga of a trunk filled with five puppets who “are in a story” didn’t affect me as strongly as the second Norendy Tale.
Characters in The Hotel Balzaar struck me as more memorable, as did the setting: a grand hotel from another era with a high-ceilinged lobby “outfitted with potted palms and ashtray stands, velvet chairs and overstuffed couches strewn with cushions of green and gold.”
The action revolves around Marta, a young girl whose mother works in the hotel as a maid and has impressed upon her child that she must be “quiet as a small mouse” and “must bother no one.” The child is obedient and manages to amuse herself in the hotel lobby, but it’s clear that she is a bit lonely, curious and longing for something. When an elderly countess checks in with a parrot on her shoulder, and calls Marta “my little ray of light,” it shakes the child to her core because that is what her father called her in the last letter he sent before going to war.
Both books are beautifully written paeans to storytelling. The author has scattered bits of magic and mystery throughout the stories, linking various elements and keeping readers guessing about the characters and how they might be connected.
The black-and-white illustrations — in this case by Barcelona-based Júlia Sardà — perfectly complement the often lyrical text, which is sometimes humorous, often touching and occasionally thought-provoking. (“I want you to know that war destroys everything, always,” Marta’s father tells her in his letter. “If anyone tries to explain it to you otherwise, in some other way, in words of nobility or valor, do not believe them.”)
Text and illustration, combined with the slim novella format of the Norendy Tales, invite repeat readings. I’m already looking forward to Norendy Tale No. 3, which, judging from the publication dates of its two predecessors, probably won’t appear until October 2025.
