THE KING'S GOLDEN BEARD

An arrogant king with a long, golden beard meets his demise thanks to his own vanity.

Set “a long long time ago, when most people still believed the earth was flat as a pancake,” this biting political commentary from Belgium features a megalomaniacal king so in love with his flowing beard that he establishes certain laws: It must never be trimmed, and others’ facial hair is forbidden—even the goats must be shaved daily. Growing so long, his beard makes its way around the world and back to the king, where no one recognizes it as the king’s. Ordering his guards to cut to pieces the owner of the beard (“After all, the law was the law”), the king perishes with the snip of “a pinchy pair of nail scissors,” one of the story’s moments of delightful alliteration. (Clearly, Verplancke isn’t afraid of a little implied gore.) The serpentine line of the king’s beard, on a palette of teal and mustard hues, propels this story, and the beard is so finely detailed that one can see nearly every hair. Readers never see the king’s face in its entirety; it’s his blond beard that looms large. Verplancke, who also designed the book, gets playful with font and weight of type (often to accentuate the king’s ego and his demands) and perspectives; more than once, readers turn the book sideways or upside down to follow the king’s beard across the planet. Townsfolk and guards are depicted in varying shades, many not natural. (This book was reviewed digitally with 11.5-by-19-inch double-page spreads viewed at 75% of actual size.)

A deeply satisfying allegorical tale.