
White’s Stuart Little, but the parallel world of mice and humans also echoes Mary Norton’s The Borrowers (1952). You can’t help but make comparisons to some other very famous books about mice, namely Kate DiCamillo’s The Tale of Despereaux (2003) and E. Murphy’s black-and-white illustrations, with pulled quote captions, add charm in spades, and there’s one tipped-in full-color illustration in each of the book’s three main parts. Along the way to Buckingham Palace, he rides in the ear of a horse named Peg (it’s very waxy), falls into a punch bowl (it’s very pink), and meets a cast of mice-and bats-who serve the queen. But after being bullied by other mice and driven by the essential question of his identity, the mouse leaves the academy and hatches a rather unformed plan to visit ancient Queen Victoria, awaiting her Diamond Jubilee, in the hopes that the all-knowing monarch can tell him who he is. *Starred Review* There is a basic philosophy underlying this sweet mouse-out-in-the-world story: “For every human on earth, there is a mouse doing the same job, and doing it better.” A tiny, unnamed mouse, with notched ears and a tail that falls naturally into the shape of a question mark, attends the Royal Mews Mouse Academy, taught by toothy headmaster B.
