The Nutcracker Mice

Candlewick Press, 2017 
 AWARDS
  • Junior Library Guild Selection
There are mice at the Mariinsky. Behind the walls of Saint Petersburg’s famous theater live the world’s tiniest dancers—including Esmeralda, who, despite having trouble controlling her tail, has finally been accepted into the ranks of the Russian Mouse Ballet Company. What’s more, a new ballet called The Nutcracker is set to debut at Christmastime, and Esmeralda has won the role of Clara. But when she learns that The Nutcracker features mice as villains, Esmeralda fears that the ballet-loving mice of Saint Petersburg won’t come to see it. Will her first appearance on stage be her last? 

The mice find an unlikely ally in nine-year-old Irina, the daughter of the custodian who is tasked with ridding the theater of “vermin.” She alone believes that the Mariinsky mice love to dance and takes it upon herself to save their lives—and their production.
"Helquist's full-page panels in shades of black are delightfully expressive and are filled with charming details. Dance, drama, and a star turn make this a page-turning tale." --Kirkus Reviews

"Brett Helquist’s black-and-white drawings (usually one per chapter) bring the mice and their activities to life, and a subplot involving nine-year-old human child Irina adds to the book’s appeal. With a forward summarizing the original Nutcracker and an afterword recapping Esmeralda’s mouse-centric version, this is perfect for balletomanes and mice fans alike." --​Booklist

The Idea Behind the Story

When I was a girl, my friend and I dressed up in ballet tutus purchased at a yard sale. I wore the bright yellow tutu, and I probably looked like a big canary, but in my mind, I was the sun. My friend, in a dark blue tutu with metallic gold decoration, was the moon. We danced around the basement to music played on an old record player. Sometimes we danced to selections from The Nutcracker, which reached our ears through the soundtrack from Disney’s Fantasia. I like to think of the whole exercise in pretending (and letting music create pictures in my mind wholly different from those envisioned by the original composer) as practice for writing The Nutcracker Mice.