The Nutcracker and the Mouse King E-Book

E.T.A. Hoffmann

• Herausgeber: XSPO
• Kategorie: Fachliteratur
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 67

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

On Christmas Eve, young Marie receives an unusual gift—a wooden Nutcracker with a kind smile and a mysterious past. But when the clock strikes midnight, her world transforms into something extraordinary. Mice with crowns march across the floor. Toys spring to life. And Marie finds herself at the center of an ancient battle between the Nutcracker and the terrible Mouse King. To save her friend, Marie must be braver than she ever imagined. Her journey will take her through enchanted forests, across shimmering lakes, and into a kingdom made entirely of sweets—where nothing is quite as it seems, and where true love has the power to break even the darkest curse. Based on E.T.A. Hoffmann's beloved classic, this beautifully illustrated adaptation brings the magic of The Nutcracker to life for a new generation of readers. Perfect for reading aloud on cozy winter nights, or discovering alone by the glow of the Christmas tree.

Leseprobe

The Nutcracker and the Mouse King

A Modern Adaptation for Children

By E. T. A. Hoffmann

Adapted by Aleksandr Nemirov

With Watercolor Illustrations

On Christmas Eve, young Marie receives an unusual gift—a wooden Nutcracker with a kind smile and a mysterious past. But when the clock strikes midnight, her world transforms into something extraordinary.

Mice with crowns march across the floor. Toys spring to life. And Marie finds herself at the center of an ancient battle between the Nutcracker and the terrible Mouse King.

To save her friend, Marie must be braver than she ever imagined. Her journey will take her through enchanted forests, across shimmering lakes, and into a kingdom made entirely of sweets—where nothing is quite as it seems, and where true love has the power to break even the darkest curse.

Based on E.T.A. Hoffmann's beloved classic, this beautifully illustrated adaptation brings the magic of The Nutcracker to life for a new generation of readers. Perfect for reading aloud on cozy winter nights, or discovering alone by the glow of the Christmas tree.

***

Author's Note

Every story we love carries a secret:

it isn't really about the world we see, but about the one we still dream of.

In The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, that dream begins with a child's belief — the kind of belief that turns toys into friends and fear into courage.

Marie's journey reminds us that kindness can be stronger than cruelty, imagination more powerful than reason, and love the only true magic that never fades.

This adaptation was written to bring Hoffmann's timeless tale closer to modern readers — to restore its heart of wonder and its quiet message of bravery:

that even the smallest hand can hold the greatest courage,

and even the most fragile heart can change the world.

So when the snow falls outside your window, and the lights of the tree begin to shimmer, listen —

perhaps you'll hear the Nutcracker's steady step,

or the soft voice of a friend who has never truly left.

Chapter 1: Christmas Eve

It was December 24th, and the whole Stahlbaum house seemed to hold its breath. Fred and his little sister, Marie, weren't allowed to step into the parlor — not even to peek through the door.

So the two children sat together in the nursery, whispering and wondering what the day might bring. As the sun dipped lower and the shadows grew longer, the air felt full of secrets.

Fred leaned closer to Marie.

“I've been hearing strange noises all day,” he whispered. “Rustling… tapping… little clicks, like something being wound up. And just a moment ago, I saw a small man carrying a big chest sneak down the hallway. You know who it was, don't you?”

Marie's eyes lit up.

“Godfather Drosselmeier!” she said. “Oh, Fred, what do you think he's made for us this year?”

Godfather Drosselmeier was a remarkable man — clever with his hands and full of surprises. He wasn't very tall, and his face was lined with many tiny wrinkles. Over one eye, he wore a neat black patch. Since he was bald, he wore a curious white wig made of spun glass that sparkled like frost on a window.

Drosselmeier could fix anything that ticked or chimed. Whenever a clock in the Stahlbaum home stopped working, he would take off his glass wig, slip out of his brown coat, and put on a blue apron. Then he'd work patiently with his tiny tools until the clock's voice returned — tick-tock, tick-tock — and its chimes sang again.

And oh, the toys he made! There were tiny men who bowed politely, little boxes that popped open to reveal fluttering birds, and funny little machines that whirred and danced. But his Christmas gifts were always the most special — treasures so finely made that Mama and Papa kept them safe long after the holiday was over.

Fred was sure this year's gift would be a tall castle, complete with soldiers marching along its walls and cannons firing when the enemy came.

Marie imagined something different — a magical garden with a silver lake, where swans with golden collars sang sweet songs while a little girl fed them crumbs of cake.

“Swans don't eat cake,” Fred said with a grin. “And Godfather Drosselmeier can't build a whole garden indoors! Anyway, his toys are fun to look at, but we can't really play with them. I like Mama and Papa's presents better. We get to keep those in our room.”

Marie thought her doll, Clara, might need a sister — poor Clara had fallen too many times and now had scratches on her porcelain cheeks. Fred decided his toy soldiers really needed another brown horse; a proper army couldn't march into battle with so few mounts.

As they whispered and guessed, the nursery grew dim. The children sat side by side, quiet now, almost certain they could hear the faint flutter of wings and soft, faraway music.

Then, without warning, came a merry jingling — jingle, jingle! — and the double doors to the living room flew open.

A golden light spilled into the nursery, warm and dazzling. Mama and Papa stood smiling in the doorway, each holding out a hand.

“Come, children,” they said gently. “It's time to see what Christmas has brought you.”

Chapter 2: The Gifts

The tall double doors swung wide, and a golden light spilled from the living room like sunlight on snow.

The great Christmas tree stood in the center of the room, taller than Fred himself, glittering with candles and tinsel. Silver apples and sugared almonds hung from its branches, and tiny angels with delicate wings floated between garlands of gold thread. Beneath it lay heaps of toys, bright and wonderful.

Marie gasped.

“Oh, Fred — look!”

There were wooden horses with real manes, tin soldiers standing in perfect rows, dolls with porcelain faces and silk gowns. A whole fortress stood on one side, complete with towers and little bridges over a moat made of mirrors. Music boxes chimed softly, and toy drums beat in time.

Fred shouted with delight and dashed forward to line up his new troops. Marie knelt beside a tiny table where a doll's tea set waited, every cup filled with sweet marzipan. She clapped her hands and immediately began arranging the pieces.

Then came a murmur through the guests — and into the room stepped Godfather Drosselmeier.

He wore his brown coat and shiny glass wig, and under his arm he carried a great wooden castle. From its towers tiny figures peeked out and began to move as soon as he set it down: soldiers marched, doors opened, and a tiny lady looked from a window as a knight rode past below.

The children rushed forward, eyes wide with wonder.

Fred could hardly breathe.

“A clockwork castle! Does it really fight battles?”

Drosselmeier smiled, winding the key at its side.

“It does better than that — it keeps peace within its walls.”

Marie watched every figure turn and bow and sing. The little knight circled the courtyard three times, the lady waved from her tower, and a tiny flag rose and fell with each turn of the gears. But after a while she whispered,

“It's beautiful, Godfather, but… can we play with it?”

Drosselmeier shook his head gently.

“It is only to be seen, not touched. Delicate things must be admired from afar.”

Fred frowned, already looking back at his soldiers. Marie looked a little disappointed, yet her eyes still sparkled with curiosity.

Their father laughed softly.

“There are plenty of toys to play with, my dear ones,” he said kindly. “Christmas isn't over yet.”

Chapter 3: The Favorite

While Fred marched his toy soldiers back and forth, Marie lingered at the table. Something — or rather, someone — had caught her eye.