The Tale of Despereaux

“Reader, you must know that an interesting fate (sometimes involving rats, sometimes not) awaits almost everyone, mouse or man, who does not conform.”

This quote introduces one of the novel’s major themes: nonconformity. At this point, it is too early to know what “interesting fates” entails, so the narrator creates tension by foreshadowing. This kind of conspiratorial narration is also a common literary device in fairy tales, where the narrator strings together seemingly unrelated events through the power of omniscience, delighting in these secrets with the reader.

“‘Royalty,’ the king said, ‘has many responsibilities. And one of them is not getting personally involved with even the distant relatives of one’s enemies.’”

The king tries to influence Pea’s sense of personhood by alluding to the authority that is royalty. He sees royalty as duty-bound and above all else, in the same way that Despereaux is ordered to be more mouselike and Roscuro is encouraged to indulge in ratlike evils. Ironically, as Pea exercises empathy by pushing back against stereotypes, she exhibits the more royal, “responsible” attitude her father wishes to instill in her by being intolerant.

“Perfidy. Pea. Perfidy. Pea. These were the words that pinwheeled through Despereaux’s mind as his body descended into the darkness.”

DiCamillo uses alliteration and repetition to mimic the physical sensation of Despereaux tumbling into the dungeon. The cycling of “p” creates a rattling effect when read aloud, embodying the metaphor of a “pinwheel.” The latter half of the quote switches to softer “d” sounds, which echo the mouse’s soft bounce into the darkness of the dungeon. The sentence ends with less staccato, foreshadowing Despereaux’s trek into the unknown.

“You are talking to Gregory the jailer, who, in the richest of ironies, is nothing but a prisoner here himself.”

The irony to which Gregory refers is the fact that his rope chains him to the dungeon like a prisoner, but it is also his only means of navigation due to the intense darkness. The rope both confines and frees Gregory as he performs his jailer duties. This echoes the paradoxical split between darkness and light.

“Spoons. Bowls. Kettles. All of them gathered here as hard evidence of the pain of loving a living thing. The king loved the queen and the queen died; this monstrosity, this junk heap is the result of love.”

Soup, and its assorted cutlery, is a symbol of love in the novel. When a recipient of love dies—like the queen—that love remains in a (in this case, literal) pile of grief. The pile of soup paraphernalia is a reminder that even though the queen is dead, her memory still lives on via her family’s mourning.

“Roscuro’s parents were having a bit of fun when they named their son. Rats have a sense of humour. Rats, in fact, think that life is very funny. And they are right, reader. They are right. In the case of Chiaroscuro, however, the joke had a hint of prophecy to it, for it happened that when Roscuro was a very young rat, he came upon a great length of rope on the dungeon floor.”

Roscuro’s parents acknowledge the irony in naming their son after the artistic balance of darkness and light—but more importantly, the narrator agrees that rats have a natural sense of humor. This irony is telling—not just because Gregory’s rope marks the start of Roscuro’s journey, but because it shows that rats can recognize social cues like jokes. It raises the question that maybe, even though they express themselves differently, rats may not be as evil as one expects.

“As he spoke, Botticelli swung, from the one extraordinarily long nail of his right front paw, a heart-shaped locket. He had taken the locket from a prisoner and hung it on a thin braided rope. Whenever Botticelli spoke, the locket moved. Back and forth, back and forth it swung.”

Botticelli’s heart-shaped locket is a symbol of triumph through torture, due to its chain being made of braided mouse whiskers. The fact that he uses it like a hypnotic object is impactful, because any mouse could recognize the horror in front of them while being entranced by its gleam and sway. The object itself holds a greater terror to mice when they recognize its materials. Botticelli knows the impact of this psychological torture, and delights in its subtlety.

“‘You are looking forward to it because you are a rat, a real rat.’ ‘Yes,’ said Roscuro. ‘I am a real rat.’ ‘Concerned not at all with the light,’ said Botticelli. ‘Concerned not at all with the light,’ repeated Roscuro.”

The repetitive mantra that Botticelli makes Roscuro say aloud is reminiscent of the repetitive motion of the former’s locket. Both work together to create a brainwashing effect, one that equates the forcing of one’ identity to hypnotic psychological torture. In other words, Botticelli attempts to “correct” Roscuro’s mindset by making him identify with a strict category of existence: the perfect rat.

“A curse, an insult, a word totally without light. And not until he heard it from the mouth of the princess did Roscuro realize that he did not like being a rat, that he did not want to be a rat.”

Roscuro seeks revenge on Princess Pea after she calls him a rat and scowls—but it’s not the category itself that bothers him, it’s the implication of her disgust. To him (and the interconnected communities throughout the castle), a rat is evil and nothing else. This perspective helps Roscuro orient his hate toward the princess; he hates her because of the stereotype she plays into, not because he was upset she spotted him at the party.

“Did you think that rats do not have hearts? Wrong. All living things have a heart. And the heart of any living thing can be broken.”

With this quote, the narrator breaks down the boundaries between humans and rodents. Each species is socially confined to a separate area of the castle depending on their rank and influence—but regardless, all hearts harbor good and bad. Morality does not depend on one’s given identity—rather one’s actions and qualities.

“‘Yes,’ said Roscuro. ‘I will have something beautiful. And I will have revenge. Both things. Somehow.’ There are those hearts, reader, that never mend again once they are broken.”

Roscuro is not being selfish for its own sake—rather, he misunderstands the potential consequences of what he wishes to do. Once his heart is broken, his anger leads him to desire both the light and a dark, hurtful revenge that contradicts his original goal. These goals are so divergent that they do not mend his heart; they split his heart further in two.

“Every action, reader, no matter how small, has a consequence. For instance, the young Roscuro gnawed on Gregory the jailer’s rope, and because he gnawed on the rope, a match was lit in his face, and because a match was lit in his face, his soul was set afire.”

DiCamillo draws connections between plot points in a way that emulates the weaving of a literary tapestry. The reader most likely picked up on some connections on their own, but the fact that the narrator explicitly points them out provides an emotional respite during an otherwise taxing journey.

“This is the danger of loving: No matter how powerful you are, no matter how many kingdoms you rule, you cannot stop those you love from dying. Making soup illegal, outlawing rats, these things soothed the poor king’s heart. And so we must forgive him.”

This quote connects the theme of love (through the symbol of soup) with the theme of forgiveness as a means of healing. The narrator calls the reader to empathize with the king’s emotional state as a first step to forgiving the ridiculousness of his decisions, because at their heart, love and grief are both ridiculous.

“Uncle: ‘Do ye want a good clout to the ear, then?’ Mig: ‘No, thank you, Uncle, I don’t.’ Alas, Uncle seemed to be as entirely unconcerned with what Mig wanted as her mother and father had been. The discussed clout to the ear was always delivered.”

Mig constantly voices her wants, yet no one seems to listen; others tend to insult her and do the opposite of what she says. This imbalance of communication, of power, is nothing short of abuse and sets the tone for Mig’s story—and makes her eventual happy ending all the more satisfying.

“‘What’ll we eat? And what’ll we eat it with?’ ‘Cake,’ suggested the soldier, ‘with a fork.’ ‘And wouldn’t that be lovely,’ said Uncle, ‘if we could afford to eat cake.’”

To the king, the outlawing of soup is a fancy driven by grief, but it has significant implications for the citizens of the kingdom, who can’t afford to eat much else. This failure to recognize societal difference may be accidental, but it reveals the cracks in the king’s judgment—like how he believes there are no rats just because they are outlawed.

“She was twelve years old. Her mother was dead. Her father had sold her. Her Uncle, who wasn’t her uncle at all, had clouted her until she was almost deaf. And she wanted, more than anything in the world, to be a little princess wearing a golden crown and riding a high-stepping white horse.”

This description of Miggery Sow’s humble beginnings compared to her opulent dream of being a princess draws a stark contrast. There is little to zero chance that she will become a princess, but this doesn’t lessen her happiness at the thought.

“‘Aspirations’, my dear, are those things that would make a serving girl wish to be a princess.”

Roscuro’s statement to Miggery Sow is particularly alluring because it is difficult to pin down. By framing hopes or wishes as “aspirations,” he doesn’t change their meaning, but does sound more authoritative. To a naive girl like Mig, such flowery language helps convince her that Roscuro’s plan is destined, or at least possible.

“The story is not a pretty one. There is violence in it. And cruelty. But stories that are not pretty have a certain value, too, I suppose. Everything, as you well know (having lived in this world long enough to have figured out a thing or two for yourself), cannot always be sweetness and light.”

The narrator warns the reader of impending fear and sadness. But rather than making the reader put down the novel, this warning encourages them to read courageously alongside Despereaux as he treks the dungeon once more. This connection between protagonist and reader heightens the story’s tension.

“She wanted—oh, how she wanted. And it was because of this terrible wanting that she was able to believe in Roscuro’s plan with every ounce of her heart.”

This quote illustrates Miggery Sow’s mindset as she is offered her dream by the dastardly Roscuro. The narrator notes that it is Mig’s sense of fairy tale wonder that makes her so easy to exploit. Desire—ridiculous or otherwise—fuels almost every character’s actions; even strange decisions can be traced back to emotional situations.

“Despereaux was amazed to have exactly what was in his heart spoken aloud by such a ferocious, mouse-hating woman as Cook.”

Despereaux expresses empathy for Cook in a rare moment of vulnerability. Considering Cook previously yelled that the only good mouse is a dead mouse, Despereaux assumed the worst—but their shared longing (for the missing Pea, light in general, etc.) reveals to him that they have a similar softness in their hearts.

“Despereaux stood before the Mouse Council and he realized that he was a different mouse from the one who had faced them the last time. He had been to the dungeon and back up out of it. He knew things that they would never know; what they thought of him, he realized, did not matter, not at all.”

This quote reveals Despereaux’s immense character growth. The mouse no longer faints or attempts to argue as he is now confident in his beliefs—and that he does not have to prove the validity of them (or anything) to anyone.

“You don’t have to know. You just have to feel compelled to do the thing: the impossible, important task at hand.”

The threadmaster Hovis offers this advice to Despereaux as he outfits him with a needle as a sword. This statement reassures Despereaux as it lets him know that he does not need to know everything about the future (i.e., the symbolism behind his dream of the knight) to be brave. The mouse can trust his own heart and instincts to do what is right.

“He had expected Cook to kill him. Instead, reader, she had laughed at him. And he was surprised how much her laughter hurt.”

Most mice rules focus on physical safety, but this moment examines Despereaux’s need for emotional safety. Cook doesn’t attempt to cut Despereaux, but he still feels hurt because her laugh carries with it the implication that he’s a helpless, irrelevant mouse.