The Princess Pourquoi — A Reader’s Guide

Armor and Ambiguity in the Title Story

In 'The Princess Pourquoi,' Princess Victorine dons a 'skirt of chain armor' and goes hunting a monster, only to find that the line between beast and knight is blurry. When she meets a wounded knight who claims he was attacked from behind, she fails to connect his injury to the monster she killed—a detail Sherwood underscores with the narrator's dry remark: 'One of her greatest charms was her slowness in putting two and two together.' The story plays with perspective: the knight's helmet gleams in the sunlight, the fog obscures combat, and the princess's triumph is undercut by the possibility that she may have wounded her own ally. Sherwood refuses to resolve the ambiguity, leaving the reader to wonder who—or what—the real monster was.

The Clever Necromancer and the Limits of Magic

The second tale introduces a necromancer whose powers are less about raising the dead and more about manipulating perception. Sherwood's magic is never straightforward; it operates through loopholes and misunderstandings. The necromancer's cleverness lies not in spells but in exploiting the assumptions of those around him. This story, like the others, treats magic as a tool for social commentary rather than spectacle. The narrator's tone remains detached, almost clinical, as if observing a scientific experiment in human folly. The necromancer's tricks expose the vanity and greed of the court, but Sherwood stops short of moralizing—she lets the absurdity speak for itself.

The Princess and the Microbe: Science Meets Fairy Tale

Perhaps the most striking juxtaposition in the collection is 'The Princess and the Microbe,' which brings germ theory into a fantasy setting. A princess falls ill, and the court's usual remedies fail; the culprit is a microscopic invader. Sherwood grafts scientific language onto the fairy-tale structure, creating a hybrid that feels both modern and archaic. The microbe is described with the same narrative gravity as a dragon, yet it cannot be slain with a sword. This story highlights Sherwood's interest in the tension between old and new knowledge—a theme that runs through the entire collection. The princess's recovery depends not on magic but on observation and hygiene, a quiet endorsement of reason over superstition.

Readers approaching The Princess Pourquoi should expect not a single sustained narrative but five distinct experiments in genre bending. Sherwood's prose is precise and understated, often letting irony do the work of overt commentary. Pay attention to what the characters fail to notice—the gaps in their understanding are where the stories' real action lies. The collection rewards those who read between the lines of its courtly dialogues and who appreciate a fairy tale that trusts its audience to catch the joke.

Margaret Sherwood’s princesses stayed with me because they question everything—even their own curse. Reading her made me think of that old crab in Battle of the Monkey & the Crab — Key Ideas to Explore, whose quiet cunning feels like its own kind of armor. The same stubborn thoughtfulness lingers, unhurried and soft. Like a memory of childhood questions.