marginalia || Penelope, by Marilyn Kaye

PENELOPEPenelope, a novel by Marilyn Kaye, adapted from the screenplay by Leslie Caveny.

From the blurb: Penelope Wilhern has everything a girl could want: A wealthy, socialite family, an enchanted bedroom and some of the coolest clothes around.  There is only one problem: She was born into a cursed family and has the face of a pig. … Hidden away from the world, Penelope now finds herself subjected to a string of snobby, blue-blooded bachelors in a desperate attempt to find her a husband in order to break the curse.  Though she yearns for something greater, what?s a girl to do when faced with a determined mother and her matchmaking sidekick?  Hoping to snap a photo of the mysterious girl, mischievous tabloid reporter Lemon hires down-on-his-luck Max to pose as a prospective suitor and infiltrate the family.  But when Max finds himself truly drawn to Penelope, he can?t bring himself to expose and disappoint her, so he just disappears.  Fed up with this latest betrayal and determined to live life on her own terms, Penelope decides to break free from her family and go out into the world in search of adventure.  Hiding her true identity with a scarf, Penelope discovers a wondrous world where freedom opens her eyes to possibilities she never knew existed.  Making new friends along the way, she discovers happiness in the most unexpected places.


[#01] The novelization of the screenplay? It’s still a fairytale, and it was a really really really really very fluffy feel-good, moral-lesson-at-the-end, pass-the-time kind of thing. Was incredibly helpful in helping me rid of all the bad juju Her Fearful Symmetry gave me (I need to recover from the craptasticness of that book before I can even consider writing a review about it.) That’s mostly why I picked it up. It was fluffy aloe vera.



[#01] If you want the Penelope story in all its magical glory, watch the movie. Dude—James McAvoy. A lot of the good juju of the movie did not translate that well into the novelization. Take, for example, Max Campion. The exposition was okay enough, but it just wasn’t great. It didn’t got me all grin-like-an-idiot whenever he swaggered into the scene. And the conflict that Max was going through was given so little attention in the novelization. And the title character was, meh, okay enough. A little too naïve, haha, but that’s what 25 years of being a recluse can do to you. Again. What was so cute in the movie was just either annoying or A Big Can of Meh in this book by Marilyn Kaye.


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