"Why didn't you save the world?" This is the Sprite's cry. Meanwhile, Aesop tries to save his skin, make up his fables, and just live his life. Given the pitfalls of human nature, are these fables some kind of instruction manual for staying out of trouble? What about morals, reform, and the castigation of social evils? As she nags and cajoles Aesop, Sprite--along with the reader--begins to wonder how much power the writer truly has in the world. Foxy Aesop offers a virtuoso display of how one can use the building blocks of a fable in a variety of ways. It is witty, it is satirical, and the Sprite herself is a comical figure. However, when she must return to her own time at the book's end--that is, to our time in our broken world--her central question suddenly seems less absurd and far more urgent. Eccentric, darkly comic, and wryly amusing, Suniti Namjoshi's fable will surprise and delight any fans of Angela Carter or Margaret Atwood.

"Why didn't you save the world?" This is the Sprite's cry. Meanwhile, Aesop tries to save his skin, make up his fables, and just live his life. Given the pitfalls of human nature, are these fables some kind of instruction manual for staying out of trouble? What about morals, reform, and the castigation of social evils? As she nags and cajoles Aesop, Sprite--along with the reader--begins to wonder how much power the writer truly has in the world. Foxy Aesop offers a virtuoso display of how one can use the building blocks of a fable in a variety of ways. It is witty, it is satirical, and the Sprite herself is a comical figure. However, when she must return to her own time at the book's end--that is, to our time in our broken world--her central question suddenly seems less absurd and far more urgent. Eccentric, darkly comic, and wryly amusing, Suniti Namjoshi's fable will surprise and delight any fans of Angela Carter or Margaret Atwood.