An inanimate object or person suffers from hubris, low self-esteem, or falls in love. Something terrible happens in a bizarrely nonchalant manner. The appropriate parties are punished. We've all been morally enlightened.

It's difficult to critique stories like these, since they are the basis of so many things we know and love. Ideas about many of Andersen's subjects have been so deeply ingrained in us, it's difficult to unwind those perceptions and look at the stories for what they were in their time or to experience them as if they were brand new to us. What I'm saying is, I understand their value. But I look at this volume as something I would enjoy using more as a reference while I'm writing poetry, short stories, or essays. I attempted to read it straight through and have to admit that I didn't make it, even just reading three a day. It is just so exactly what you'd expect with only a few exceptions, a few little quips that jolt you out of the rhythm of the story.

To be honest, my reaction was, "Meh." And I so did not want my reaction to be, "Meh." Even if I was a child and I had the option to read Andersen for a bedtime story, I'd probably only want to get this out once a month. And I certainly wouldn't pick any of the numerous stories about sentient household items (btdubs, not anywhere close to as exciting as those in Beauty and the Beast). As a kid, I wouldn't have cared a fig about the moral travesties of a narcissistic darning needle.