Urchin of the Riding Stars
This is gonna be a long one, because I liked this book!
Content warning: this review will discuss culling “unwanted” parts of the population, and vomit.
Urchin of the Riding Stars is the first book in the Mistmantle Chronicles. It was written by M. I. McAllister and illustrated by Omar Rayyan, and published in 2005.
The book is about the island of Mistmantle, which has a castle and magical mists around it. The protagonist is a squirrel named Urchin. That’s a little confusing since urchin is also a term for hedgehogs, and this is a world with hedgehogs, red squirrels, otters and moles… but that’s his name.
He is an orphan with a prophecy around his birth. He’s also different because he’s honey-colored instead of red, except at his ear- and tail-tips. Yeah, it’s one of those books.
It’s not challenging writing, since it’s meant for children, and personally that was just what I needed when I read this.
“Fantasy with small woodland creatures” is a relatively small genre, but this book is one of the best examples of it that I’ve read. This is the first book I’ve reviewed that is truly in that niche, so it’s a great opportunity to talk about the genre as a whole.
One thing that I think is notable is the violence. My opinion is that having little critters, instead of humans, lets you get away with more in a children’s book. The prologue is about a mother in labor, and she’s dead by the second page. Shortly after that, we hear about culling “undesirable” babies. And then we see the body of the prince, a baby hedgehog, after he’s been stabbed. That’s all within the first three chapters.
Some notes on their level of anthropomorphism:
Clothes are optional. They wear them for special occasions, or for warmth.
They might be human-sized? There’s an important detail about marking leaves with claws, like a signature. That implies the leaves are hand-sized. And, the book cover has a sea urchin next to Urchin, and it’s sized like it would be next to a human.
They have priests, monarchy, and marriage. Fantasy often has those elements and you take it as a given, but when there are no humans it does feel a little more odd.
I’m not certain if they live human lifespans, or if they age like their actual species, but it seems like human aging.
Generally, their species matters a lot. Squirrels easily leap, otters swim, moles are short-sighted. At points they use smell to see who has been in a place, and characters walk on all fours. They use claws or teeth like knives.
Overall, I’m a huge fan of this. I like that they aren’t just humans with flavor text. Using claw marks like a fingerprint is pretty unique.
They also drink alcohol. There’s a great deal of giving the king wine so he’ll be drunk and look bad, and then other characters try to give him spring water instead… You can also tell that McAllister loves the word “cordial”. They talk so much about cordials.
I mention that because squirrels probably wouldn’t drink alcohol in real life. Rodents can’t vomit, so mice and rats don’t drink alcohol.
People aren’t trying to poison squirrels in the same way, but I’m pretty sure in real life squirrels would not drink alcohol. I do know other animals drink alcohol. I’m less sure about otters, moles, and hedgehogs. Two minutes of internet searching didn’t find anything other than a few cool pictures of Sonic.
They imply a kind of racial hierarchy. That’s pretty common in fantasy, and it’s obviously a whole conversation.
What I found interesting was that it seems to have changed, over the years.
At the time of the story, the king is a hedgehog, and squirrels could be considered as second in power. The usurper is a squirrel who wants to be in control. Then, broadly, are otters, and then moles.
But in the past, there was a legendary Old Palace made by moles. And even before that, a squirrel was king. There’s also an assassin mole in the modern day who thinks a mole should be king, instead of a squirrel. I really like that the history is bumpy, in a way. It’s not as simple as “hedgehogs always get to be king”. We have a little bit from different species saying “we’re the best”.
Another thing I appreciate is that the person/nonperson distinction is relatively clear. You definitely run into that problem, with books like this, but it’s pretty distinct in Mistmantle.
They kill and eat fish, as well as worms and beetles. Those are clearly not people, and they’re not closely related.
It’s not like there are fish-people at the same time as we’re eating fish, or even squirrel-people while we eat rabbit meat.
I’m also tremendously appreciative of what species populate Mistmantle.
It would really eat away at me if we had, say, otters, weasels, badgers and hedgehogs (three mustelids and then a whole different family). Or mice, rats, squirrels and moles (three rodents and then the family Talpidae).
When it comes to evolutionary closeness, squirrels, otters, hedgehogs and moles feel like they’re on the same level of closeness. It’s just something that really satisfies my brain.
There is some gray area with birds— another island is ruled by swans, who talk. But on Mistmantle they mention birdsong, which makes it sound like birds are just another animal. They never employ the songbirds as spies, or anything. But they also don’t eat bird meat or farm chickens for eggs, so it’s not terribly jarring.
I was pleasantly surprised by the number of female characters. I found myself expecting someone to be “he” and then catching my assumption when the book said “she”. The cast has so many gender-neutral names, like Apple, Needle, Crackle, Spindle, Tumble, and other things that don’t end in -le.
I wouldn’t mind fewer characters, though. Or a list of who’s who.
There’s one case of fridging, IMO. The captain Crispin meets another squirrel while banished, who helps him get through it. But she dies tragically before he returns to Mistmantle. She doesn’t really exist independent of him.
I will say, there’s a bit less sword fighting than I was expecting, and more court intrigue. The middle bit of the book gets a little slow because of the machinations and back-and-forth, but I guess that’s to be expected when it’s Macbeth.
Yes, this book is heavily drawing from Macbeth. We have a traitorous murdering couple who aspire to the throne. The bad guy is supremely confident because he thinks the one thing that could stop him is impossible. He is extremely sleep-deprived because he has nightmares about the murder he’s done.
It makes me really happy to think of all the kids who grew up, read Macbeth in English class, and thought “hey wait a second, this is just like that squirrel book!”
Another small note- squirrels do a lot of eavesdropping and rumor-spreading in this story. Intentionally or not, it’s reminiscent of Ratatoskr! That’s the squirrel from Norse mythology who runs up and down the World Tree sending insults from the bird at the top to the dragon at the bottom.
There’s kind of a lot of baby-culling content. I personally wouldn’t have included so much in a book for young people but, hey, whatever works, I guess?
I would say it’s broadly a good depiction. The good guys want to save the babies even though the bad guy wants to kill them for being “too weak”. The language they use is derogatory, but I can sign off on the overall premise of hiding away the children so they can survive. That’s good.
I really like that Urchin is good with children. That’s a very endearing trait, especially from an orphan who was raised by a community. I don’t know if a young reader would feel the same way, but I liked that he was nurturing in that way.
This book also made me think about connection with nonhuman protagonists. Sometimes people think that a nonhuman protagonist is hard to relate to. But, you’re telling me we meet the hero as a baby squirrel shivering in the cold? You’re telling me we gotta defend a baby hedgehog? Of COURSE I’m attached to that character! Obviously I’m rooting for him!
Some other fun worldbuilding things:
I already mentioned the leaves-as-signatures. There are also capital-T Threadings, which I’m curious about for the future books. They seem like just tapestries that tell a story, but it’s capitalized. So they have to be important!
One of the coolest things is that “falling stars” is not metaphorical. Urchin is “of the falling stars” because he was born on a night when the stars leave their orbits. That’s freakin’ sick!
Also, the illustrations are well done. They’re simple and small, at the head of each chapter, but they get the job done. Good job, Omar Rayyan!
One final note about rats, since rats are my faves: the only mention of them is when the swans call squirrels tree-rats. So, that’s treated as a derogatory thing.
Overall, I am pleased as punch with this book. I was approaching it thinking “oh well, it’s in my genre so I might as well read it”. Maybe it’s just that I needed a light read, but oh boy, I really loved it. I would 100% recommend it as an example of little critter fantasy. I’m going to read the next book in the series right away.
