Thoughts on two Twisted Tales

I recently read two books from Disney’s Twisted Tales series: Mirror, Mirror, a reimagining of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937), and Go the Distance, based on Hercules (1997). Though written by the same author (Jen Calonita), the two books are very different in tone — after all, there’s more than half a century separating the films on which they were based. That made it especially interesting to think about the strengths and weaknesses of each story.

The Twisted Tales concept

All books in the Twisted Tales collection pose a “what if” question. A couple of years ago, I read my first Twisted Tale, the Cinderella-inspired So This is Love by Elizabeth Lim. The premise for that one was “What if Cinderella never tried on the glass slipper?” The story started during the events of the 1950 film but deviated from the original plot, spinning off into a Sliding Doors–style alternate timeline. Cinderella isn’t able to try on the glass slipper to prove she’s the mysterious princess from the ball, so a new adventure begins for her.

Mirror, Mirror and Go the Distance also have “what if” questions on their covers, but they handle the concept in very different ways. The former asks, “What if the Evil Queen poisoned the prince [instead of Snow White]?” While the Cinderella Twisted Tale used its question as the catalyst of the entire plot, Mirror, Mirror‘s question is more of a result of the reimagined story. On the other hand, in Go the Distance, the premise is “What if Meg had to become a Greek god?” This question does serve as the inciting incident, but its placement in the plot is so close to the conclusion of the original film that this book reads more like a sequel than an alternate timeline.

I’ll explain more as I explore my thoughts on each book.

Snow White and the Evil Queen

I’m not always a fan of dual-POV stories, but the way this book shifts between Snow White’s point of view and the Evil Queen’s works so well. The simplicity of the original film provides ample room for backstory and character development, which is why this book starts at the very beginning: Instead of jumping in at a crucial juncture in the plot, it retells the entire thing. It even flashes back to the Evil Queen’s childhood.

What’s fun about Twisted Tales is that they’re not just retellings of classic fairy tales — they’re directly inspired by the Disney movies. Author Jen Calonita does an incredible job incorporating elements from the 1937 film. These elements range from visual details (like Snow White’s signature blue-and-yellow dress) to dialogue lifted straight from the script. You’d think the Queen’s rhyming monologue about concocting the poison apple would sound out of place within a more grounded story, but it doesn’t. It’s not only logical, it has a sinister implication that thickens the plot. The book also explains Snow White’s life at the castle, including why she’s dressed in rags, her relationship with the Queen, and how she (a princess) is so knowledgeable about cooking and cleaning.

The rest of the story is about Snow White taking back her rightful place as ruler of the kingdom. Yes, the prince does end up getting poisoned instead of the princess, but the real “what if” question of the book is more like, “What if Snow White realized how terrible things were for her subjects and was inspired overthrow the Queen?” (But that’s too long to put on a book cover.) That storyline is good, but the title Mirror, Mirror reveals where the book’s strengths truly lie: The Evil Queen, seduced by the power of the magic mirror, is the most compelling part of the story. Easily my favorite thing about this book was how it developed the backstory of the Queen and her sinister mirror.

Side note: Though Snow White as a character is more interesting and modern in this retelling, I have to take a moment to appreciate the original film too. I often see the 1937 princess described as merely “innocent,” “naive,” or even “useless,” but I think she comes off as brave and downright sassy. I highly recommend the video essay “Why Snow White Is (Still) the Strongest Disney Princess” by There Will Be Fudd on YouTube. It helped me appreciate the context in which the movie was made and why it’s still relevant today.

Another side note: I listened to the audiobook of Mirror, Mirror. Narrator Emily Woo Zeller deserves an award for her performance. I’m still in awe that she made all seven dwarfs distinct and recognizable!

Megara’s story

When I picked up Go the Distance immediately after finishing Mirror, Mirror, I was surprised how different the writing style was, considering it was written by the same author. But I quickly realized it made sense: The 1997 film Hercules is filled with snappy dialogue and references to modern culture. This book tries to capture that same feeling, and it does a pretty good job. The highlight for me was the repartee between Meg and Phil (the grumpy satyr voiced by Danny DeVito in the film).

I’ll start by saying I enjoyed this book. But I didn’t like it as much as Mirror, Mirror, and I’m trying to puzzle out whether that’s the book’s fault or my own personal preferences.

An important factor: Hercules is one of my favorite Disney movies. For me, it’s not only very nostalgic but also highly rewatchable. I always loved Cinderella, for example, but I never enjoyed watching it as an adult as much as I did when I was a little kid. Hercules, on the other hand, is a movie I could turn on any time and enjoy. The unique visual style, the lighthearted humor, the talented voice cast, the incredible soundtrack — it still delights me to this day.

I’m not suggesting that Hercules is a better film than Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, but it’s definitely different in a lot of ways. Whereas Snow White provided a lush canvas to which a deeper story could be added, Hercules is already fairly fleshed-out. It’s not free of plot holes or illogical storylines, but I think it has exactly the amount of depth a 90-minute children’s movie should have.

That’s why the placement of the “twist” is important here. Go the Distance begins at the very end of Hercules, when the eponymous hero has regained immortality and is able to join his parents on Mount Olympus. In the film, Hercules chooses to give up immortality in order to remain on Earth with Meg, and they all (presumably) live happily ever after. In the book, Zeus refuses to allow this, so Hera tells Meg that she can become a god if she completes a quest.

Because the twist doesn’t occur until the last minute, Go the Distance feels like a sequel rather than an alternate timeline. That makes it harder to separate the “twisted” story from the original in my mind, which wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing if the book hadn’t left me feeling a little…sad. The book gives us flashbacks of Meg’s youth to reinforce why she’s so jaded and mistrusting, and Hera’s quest is tailor-made to help Meg work through her trauma and heartbreak. The story is pretty well-written, but it was much more emotional than I expected, and I kind of don’t want to imagine my beloved characters having to go through this extra turmoil.

Meg’s journey throughout this book is about opening her heart. But wasn’t that her arc in the original movie, too? It makes the ending of the film feel tarnished by telling us that even if Hercules had joined Meg on Earth, it wouldn’t have been as happily-ever-after as it seemed. She still had a lot of grief and resentment to deal with.

Maybe that’s just my preference. There’s nothing inherently bad about fleshing out a character, even if it does make their story sadder. So I’ll move on to my less subjective criticisms:

Compared to Snow White, the characters in Hercules have very distinct personalities and voices, so it’s easier to spot the instances when the book characters feel off. For the most part, Calonita does a good job of capturing them. However, some of the characterizations seemed incongruous with the film on a deeper level — notably the twist that sets the plot in motion. Zeus has spent the entire movie teaching Hercules that “a true hero isn’t measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart.” So why would Zeus then refuse Hercules’s request to stay with the woman he loves? The same twist could have still happened in a different way without compromising Zeus’s characterization. I also found parts of Hades’s plotline to be a little hard to reconcile with how he was portrayed in the movie; that might have been remedied with some tweaks to descriptions of new characters and dialogue.

Because the basic plot of Go the Distance is just Meg going from one location to another to complete her quest, it feels very fast-paced and somewhat formulaic. (I guess any quest contrived by a god in order to teach you a lesson would feel that way.) I also didn’t find the action sequences to be very engaging. That’s not to say it wasn’t a page-turner; I did enjoy reading it. It just didn’t feel quite as satisfying or sophisticated as Mirror, Mirror. I don’t think either book is striving for a mature adult audience, but Go the Distance does feel like it was written for a slightly younger demographic.

Conclusion

All in all, both of these books are good options if you’re in the mood to immerse yourself in these worlds.

Mirror, Mirror is more focused on the characters and less on the plot. The writing style is elegant and mysterious, like a traditional fairytale. The tone, much like the original film, is a bit dark balanced with a strong sense of hope and optimism. Most of the darkness comes from the villain’s side of the story, so it doesn’t make the rest of the story feel too gloomy.

Go the Distance is more plot-driven (though it places great emphasis on Meg’s character growth, too). The writing style is more down-to-earth and modern. The tone seems somewhat lighthearted at first, like the film it was based on, but there’s an underlying sense of sorrow woven throughout. And a lot of sorrow on the surface. That, combined with the plot structure and a couple of other minor complaints, meant it wasn’t the perfect match for my tastes. But it might be someone else’s cup of ambrosia.