On September 28, 1983, the discovery of a previously unknown tale by Wilhelm Grimm was reported on the front page of The New York Times. "After more than 150 years," the Times noted, "Hansel and Gretel, Snow-White, Rumpelstiltskin, and Cinderella will be joined by another Grimm fairy-tale character." The story of dear Mili was preserved in a letter Wilhelm Grimm wrote to a little girl in 1816, a letter that remained in her family's possession for over a century and a half. It tells of a mother who sends her daughter into the forest to save her from a terrible war. The child comes upon the hut of an old man, who gives her shelter, and she repays his kindness by serving him faithfully for what she thinks are three days. Actually, thirty years have passed, but Mili has remained safe, and with the old man's blessing there is still time for a tender reunion with her mother. As for the pictures that interpret Dear Mili ―hailed by School Library Journal as "gorgeous"―they were a milestone in Maurice Sendak's career, the work of a master at the height of his powers.

From Publishers Weekly

Preserved in a letter written to a young girl, Mili, in 1816 and not discovered until 1983, the Grimm story is prefaced by a tender address in which he underscores the story's message: although there are many obstacles that can prevent people from being together, "one human heart can go out to another, undeterred by what lies between." The story that follows implies that love transcends even death. Like many fairy tales, this one deals with extraordinary events. A widow sends her child into the forest to protect her from an approaching war. The girl is led by her guardian angel past menacing cliffs and chasms to the house of Saint Joseph with whom she lives for three days. Before she goes back to the village, Saint Joseph gives her a rosebud as a symbol of her return to paradise; when the girl reaches her home, she finds that the three days have been in reality 30 years. "God has granted the widow's last wish" to see her daughter once again. In the morning, mother and child are found dead, with Saint Joseph's rose "in full bloom." Sendak's haunting interpretation of this stark tale is often more emotionally compelling than the story itself. Dear Mili is a variation on the themes of loss, separation and love that Sendak has explored before, most recently in Outside Over There . In the tradition of 19th century Sunday school literature, the plot and language of the text are often predictable and obviously preachy. For example, after Mili's long journey and prayer, a cleansing rain falls: "God and my heart are weeping together," she says. In an attempt to transcend the limitations of the religious story, Sendak infuses it with images that are both nonsectarian and universal. Trees and roots in the valley of death become grasping, whitened bones scattered beneath an outline reminiscent of buildings at Auschwitz. The images are rich: dark clouds of war are etched with claws of yellow fire, and paradise is filled not only with music, but with lush flowers that burst, like those of Van Gogh or O'Keeffe, with passionate life. The volume may have more appeal for adults than for children, but nonetheless it contains unforgettable artwork of resonant power. Michael di Capua Books. All ages.
Copyright 1988 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From School Library Journal

Kindergarten-Grade 3 This is a problematic book: a potent combination of compelling pictures and a seriously disturbing text. Although the discovery of the tale in 1983 made front-page news, there is little novelty or originality to it. The story, found in a letter of 1816, is a pastiche of several religious tales.'' When war approaches, a widowed mother sends her beloved little daughter, protected by a guardian angel, into the forest, trusting God to bring her back in three days. The intrepid girl encounters St. Joseph, dutifully does what she is bid, shares her cake, and plays with the angel (now a doppel-ganger ). On the third day the angel-double leads her home, where she finds anold, old woman''her mother. In those 3 days, 30 years have passed, and the mother has suffered fear and misery during a great war, while mourning the daughter whom she believed dead. Mother and child happily spend the evening together, go to bedand are found dead in the morning. Separation, fear, violence, and even death are familiar elements in Grimms' tales: what is unsettling here is the treatment, the unanticipated mixture of fairy tale, realism, and religion. Our firm expectationsthat the child will be safeguarded by her mother's love, by God's Providence, and by her own staunch goodnessare brutally undermined by the ending. Publishing this pious parable as a picture book for children in 1988 makes W. Grimm look like a macabre forerunner of O. Henry. The pictures only compound the problem. Stunningly beautiful, in Sendak's elaborate neo-19th-Century style, packed with ``high art'' touches, their Romantic grace, cozy cottages, and abundant flowers all reinforce our feelings of security. Although the story hints strongly that when the heroine finds St. Joseph she is actually in Heaven, the setting offers no clarification on this point. The gorgeous art and the names Sendak and Grimm guarantee that this book will be requested. Warned by librarians and booksellers, parents might at least choose to modify or omit the last few lines at bedtime readings. Patricia Dooley, University of Washington, Seattle
Copyright 1988 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Review

“Emotionally compelling . . . A variation on the themes of loss, separation and love . . . Sendak infuses it with images that are both nonsectarian and universal. Trees and roots in the valley of death become grasping, whitened bones scattered beneath an outline reminiscent of buildings at Auschwitz. The images are rich: dark clouds of war are etched with claws of yellow fire, and paradise is filled not only with music, but with lush flowers that burst, like those of Van Gogh or O'Keeffe, with passionate life . . . Contains unforgettable artwork of resonant power.” ― Publishers Weekly

“ Dear Mili is among Mr. Sendak's finest creations. If one hesitates to call him the foremost illustrator in contemporary America, or the most accomplished draftsman, it is only because those terms set too narrow a limit on the nature of his achievement. He is an artist, nothing less; an artist with a powerful vision.” ― John Gross, The New York Times

“In the Sendak world, stories unfold like dreams, where images connect emotionally and serendipitously, not by the logic imposed by grown-ups when they are awake. In much of his work, beauty and sorrow walk hand in hand . . . [Sendak's work gives] children the power to conquer through art and ingenuity, reminding parents of the complicated responsibility that requires them to be hopeful but realistic about the terrible wild things out there.” ― The New York Times

About the Author

WILHELM GRIMM (1786–1859) was a German author, linguist, and folklorist who, along with his older brother, Jakob, published Children’s and Household Tales in 1812. Popularly known as Grimms’ Fairy Tales , this collection was continually revised by the brothers and ultimately included 210 folk tales, among them many that have become famous around the world.

Maurice Sendak (1928-2012) was the author and illustrator of such classic children's books as Where the Wild Things Are and In the Night Kitchen. Widely considered one of the most innovative creators of children's literature, he received honors including the Caldecott Medal, the Hans Christian Andersen Medal, the Laura Ingalls Wilder Award, and the National Medal of Arts. Sendak was born in Brooklyn in 1928 and died in Connecticut in 2012.

Ralph Manheim (b. New York, 1907) was an American translator of German and French literature. His translating career began with a translation of Mein Kempf in which Manheim set out to reproduce Hitler's idiosyncratic, often grammatically aberrant style. In collaboration with John Willett, Manheim translated the works of Bertolt Brecht. The Pen/Ralph Manheim Medal for translation, inaugurated in his name, is a major lifetime achievement award in the field of translation. He himself won its predecessor, the PEN translation prize, in 1964. Manheim died in Cambridge in 1992. He was 85.