Este es uno de esos libros de fantasía que recomendaría a alguien que no lee fantasía.
Qué hermosura.

He visto tus cicatrices y te quiero. Si Ceniza y tú no podéis correr tan lejos como solíais hacerlo por culpa de vuestras heridas, correremos menos lejos juntos.

Se cuela en mejor lectura del año, de fantasía Y DE LA VIDA.
Es un retelling de "Piel de Asno" y la novela conserva ese toque de cuento de hadas hasta que todo se tuerce en un evento traumático. A partir de ahí, la novela trata temas como el trauma, el crecimiento, encontrar tu lugar en el mundo después de que te lo hayan destrozado. Y ahí está la belleza de esta historia: recoger los pedazos rotos e intentar recomponerte, poco a poco, atravesando el dolor de los recuerdos hasta renacer y aprender a vivir con ello. Porque ese es uno de los principales mensajes de "Piel de Ciervo": que la sanación no es lineal y que tienes derecho a hibernar hasta ser lo suficiente fuerte como para enfrentarte a lo que te han hecho. Y al final la vida prevalece, pase lo que pase.

He empatizado mucho con Lissar. Con la sensación de que un día los hombres deciden que ya no eres una niña y te arrebatan la inocencia de un plumazo. Que ahora eres mujer y debes cumplir unos estándares que no has pedido ni tampoco deseas. Esto hace que esta novela se sienta como algo contemporáneo, que veas en la protagonista a una amiga, una hermana, una chica que quieres proteger, por la que lucharías para que se haga justicia. A la que sanarías, porque esas heridas también son tuyas.

La pluma de Robin McKinley es preciosa. Juega con las palabras que da gusto, con unas descripciones súper vívidas. Se recrea en muchos detalles, tanto que podía sentir que estaba en la cabaña de Lissar y Ceniza, en las ciudades y castillos. Es muy costumbrista, tanto que a veces puede parecer que no ocurre "nada", aunque creo que este tipo de novelas piden un ritmo pausado, calmo.

Queda recomendadisima si buscáis una novela de fantasía que sabe a cuento de hadas, con un mensaje potente y que desborda amor por los perros. Y gracias de nuevo a Duermevela por traer historias que a veces se pierden en el tiempo pero cuya narrativa sigue calando muy hondo. Yo desde luego no me voy a olvidar de Lissar ni de Ceniza

Repetitive, yet wonderful. Telling more than showing, yet almost perfect the way it is. Not for every reader out there as it is pretty slow, but it's just the story for this particular reader here.

The author herself has said that this story is a retelling orCharles Perrault's story Donkey Skin * and while I admit that there are some similarities between the tales, this one is far more grimmer with the topic of incestuous rape as the first dark thing coming to mind. Deerskin is far more difficult and yet oddly more rewarding to read. It is somewhat repetitive and slow, but it also conveys all these horrifying themes quite well and although the writing style is somewhat odd with a whole lot of telling and rather little of showing, but it also gripped just like McKinley's Sunshine did and kept me on the edge of the seat all the way through.

What the original story failed to convey, in my mind, was the journey of healing the heroine of the story has to go through after her father loses his mind and forces himself on her. McKinley doesn't show exactly how she escapes, but she puts a lot of emphasis on the (lack of) emotion going through the young girl's mind after that awful ordeal. It is compelling and while I can luckily never truly understand what goes through someone's mind after something like that, I somehow understood Lissla Lissar's state of mind perfectly.

The original story also puts a lot of emphasis on how all the beautiful people get together, but Deerskin does not do that. It features all kinds of people and most important of all, in my mind, is the fact Lissla Lissar has time to heal and find her love through emotional connection. Sure, there is physical attraction as well, but first and foremost the attraction comes from the way she and her love interest connect on the emotional level and thanks to their mutual love for dogs. He is not handsome by conventional standards as his chin is a bit too big and eyes a bit too far apart and he's a bit overweight, but the way he and the heroine connect on the emotional level is simply the best thing to have ever happened. And it's wonderful. Wonderful, I tell you!

I fear a re-read is in order...

*The Brothers Grimm have a similar story - All-Kinds-of-Fur. In the end, I think Robin McKinley's version is the best of the lot.

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Deerskin is based on a fairytale, a pretty disturbing one in which a father decides to marry his daughter, because she is the only one equal to his dead wife in beauty. McKinley's version is darker, because of the detail of it. I found it desperately uncomfortable to read, and the pay-off really wasn't worth the discomfort -- for me, anyway. I read somewhere about a therapist suggesting a client of hers, who had been raped, read it, and that it was helpful in that case. But for me, reading it on my own, it... probably wasn't a good idea.

I might read it again, someday, when I'm more comfortable with the themes. I love stories based on fairytales, particularly less well known ones, and I like McKinley's writing in general, and her writing is a joy to read normally. But... this book wasn't a good idea for me.

I can't even think how to rate it, because it's so tinged by how I felt about the events and themes. So, bear in mind that my rating is based on my personal reaction, and not on any objective judgement. (All my ratings are, in fact, but this more than any.)

I’m going to be explicit about some plot details, because most of the criticism of this book seems to come from people who didn’t know what they were getting into. So: Deerskin is a fairy tale retelling about a princess who is raped by her father. If you demand that your fairy tales be lighthearted, or your rape/trauma stories 100% realistic, this may not be the book for you. For what it’s worth, I think it’s a fantastic book, although there were times I put it aside for something more cheerful.

Lissar is the princess of an unnamed country, but she grows up neglected, as her parents are utterly absorbed in their fairy-tale love for each other. It gets worse when the queen dies and the king begins to lust after Lissar. That’s the first quarter of the book; 3/4 of it details Lissar’s initial reaction to her trauma (blocking out everything) and her slow journey toward recovery. Another reviewer put it well by saying that the rape isn’t physically graphic, but it’s emotionally graphic, and the aftermath even more so. (Well, the aftermath is sometimes physically graphic too, actually.)

But for all that, it really is a beautiful story. Deerskin is very well-written; McKinley has such a way with words that the book does feel like a fairy tale, but at the same time honest and real. And there is hope and optimism to balance out the gloom. You probably have to at least like dogs to truly enjoy this book: Lissar’s dog Ash gets a lot of page time. A couple years ago I criticized another McKinley book, Spindle’s End, for its numerous talking animal characters, but she does an excellent job with the animals here: rather than putting dialogue in Ash’s mouth, she shows us a dog behaving like a dog, and she keeps the canine cast small, which allows the reader to visualize Ash and get attached to her (and, to a lesser extent, to the puppies). Actually, just about everything I disliked about Spindle’s End is not a problem here. The romance is sweet, too.

I found the book to be compelling reading throughout, and was certainly glad for Lissar when her life started to improve, but it’s worth noting that Ossin’s kingdom, where she winds up, is probably the biggest fairy tale in this book. (Apart from some fun asides, like the unique take on dragons.) Everyone is welcoming and generous and there’s almost no class consciousness at all. People in real life can be so ugly to rape survivors that I’m not sure how I feel about the book’s putting all the ugliness from people besides Lissar's father before the rape and having everyone who appears afterwards be so nice. That’s not an illegitimate way to write such a story, but it is a choice that merits more attention than it seems to have received.

At any rate, that’s not why I took off a star: that’s for the climax, which is one of those high-magic showdowns (in an otherwise relatively low-magic book) that makes very little sense. A lot of fireworks come apparently out of nowhere. It did not work for me at all, although at least the ending did.

Finally, then: this is an adult book, and a very good one, but it’s not just another pretty fairy tale retelling. Read it only if you’re willing to go to the dark places where it will take you.

Still just as powerful, nightmarish, hopeful, uplifting, and beautifully told as I remember! Robin McKinley's works are so close to my heart, and Deerskin is an absolute stand out.

Eleanor Oliphant, the heroine of Eleanor Oliphant is completely fine, won by heart by stating, "You can’t have too much dog in a book."

You really can't have too much dog in a book.

This is the second time in a short period of time when i fell utterly under the spell of a story about a woman/goddess/heroine dealing with the trauma of a cruel childhood with by seeking solitude with the exception of a fierce and loving animal companion by her side. The first book was Circe, by Madeline Miller.

These books are wringing me out emotionally, Eleanor Oliphant included, though I read that last year.

I don't think Deerskin is the right read for everyone, but what I loved about it, and loved about Circe -- well, I loved a lot of things about both -- is the author takes her time with the story, and her main character. This could have been a much faster paced novel, and that would have contained its own advantages.

Instead, we stay with Lissar in her deep pain and sorrow, and we stay with her during a brief period of peace, and we stay with her when she finds her strength once again. The result is ... whew ... a deeply moving experience. Other people might just find it plodding.

But not everyone wants that, or always wants that. I am the queen of gauging my mood to decide what to read. There are times when a book like this, or Deerskin/Lissar, or Eleanor Oliphant, would have been too much for me.

Certainly, a reader should be advised that the book takes very seriously sexual abuse and the trauma done by a horrible parent. I read a 1 star that disagreed, and I can't comprehend that since Robin McKinley, in my opinion, gives her all to saying some pains are deep, persistent, and crippling.

But, my dear, my poor child, don’t you understand yet that healing carries its own responsibilities? Your battle was from death to life no less than Ash’s is now; would you deny it? But you have not accepted your own gift to yourself, your gift of your own life. Ash is looking forward to running through meadows again; can you not give yourself leave to run through meadows too.

But to return to the no such thing as too much dog, the relationship between Lissar and her dog Ash is at the heart of this book -- their love, connection, willingness to live and die for one another. So amazing!

It is a much more straightforward thing to be a dog, and a dog’s love, once given, is not reconsidered; it just is, like sunlight or mountains. It is for human beings to see the shadows behind the light, and the light behind the shadows. It is, perhaps, why dogs have people, and people have dogs.

There is a romance here as well, built on shared connection, built over time, built on kindness. It's better than all the stories of love at first sight combined, because it's about a love that heals and endures.

I do not have to understand, he said. I have seen the scars you carry, and I love you. If you and Ash cannot run quite so far as you used to because of old wounds, then we will run less far together. “I was never a runner anyway,” he murmured aloud, and Lissar stirred but made no answer.

If I have to complain, although the book is chock full of love of dogs, much disdain is given to lap dogs, and at least one comment involved the hero worrying a lesser dog might be bred to a purebred. Mutts and little dogs are amazing too!

Anyhow, I think I need to read something super light now, super silly. I'm exhausted from too many emotions.

e warned: Deerskin and, to a slightly lesser extent, Donkeyskin, feature some truly vile behavior at and from the hands of men. Both feature a King, maddened at the death of his beautiful Queen, who chooses that his next wife will be his teenage daughter. YIKES. In Donkeyskin, she is helped by a fairy godmother. In Deerskin, our princess has the love and guardianship of an incredible hound, but she is unable to escape the madness of the King until it is much. too. late. This re-telling features a visceral rape scene, as well as many other instances of mortal and animal peril. Princess Lissla Lissar, reborn post-trauma as the titular Deerskin, is a princess who saves herself. Sure, there's magic, kindly farm folks, gentle princes, a cavalcade of loyal dogs, and intervention by a potential goddess, but Deerskin is her own person. She may not know who that person is, as she has been dealt the hand of post-traumatic-amnesia, but she is a person through and through. A capable and driven person voiced with clarity and might. McKinley pays close attention to the relationship between humans and their pets, and also fills the story with the ins and outs of hound rearing, caring, and training. The story meanders a bit- it could stand to lose a good 100 pages- but if you choose to listen to it (which I suggest you do), Xe Sands does a lovely job with the audio version. Should you hope to cloak yourself in Deerskin before our discussion weekend, both the audio and the ebook are currently available on Scribd. Although I prefer the retellings by Angela Carter and Emma Donoghue, this novel can stand alone with pride.

¿Cómo un libro puede hacerte sentir tantas cosas? ¿Cómo puedes vivir con tanta intensidad y querer tan profundamente a unos personajes que viven entre páginas de papel?
No es algo muy común, pero si algo consigue «Piel de ciervo» es emocionarte, hacerte sentir. Me cuesta hablar de este libro porque es una de mis novelas favoritas de la vida, de las que más me han impactado e impresionado... pero voy a intentarlo.

«Piel de ciervo» es una historia enmarcada dentro de los cuentos de hadas, de la fantasía, que tan liviana e inocente queremos creer que es pero que esconde bajo sus palabras bellas y cuidadas mucha verdad. En esta novela la autora nos introduce en una especie de sueño narrativo (envolvente e hipnótico) que se convierte pronto en un relato escalofriante mediante el cual Mckinley nos habla (en mi opinión con maestría) de abuso, del trauma y del estrés postraumático.

Por suerte, McKinley decide contarlo con una mirada luminosa y esperanzadora. Porque se puede sobrevivir e incluso "vivir" después del trauma. Y eso es lo que nos cuenta «Piel de ciervo», cómo Lissar sobrevive y aprende a vivir de nuevo, convirtiéndose en una nueva persona (porque jamás podrá volver a ser la que era antes), pero aprendiendo de las cosas más pequeñas y mundanas (como cortar leña, cocinar, dar de comer cada dos horas a unos cachorros de galgo..) y encontrando así algo que la ata a la vida, algo que le muestra un camino diferente, que recorrerá descubriendo el significado de la lealtad, la amistad, el amor...

La historia está llena de la simbología de los cuentos de hadas, pero al mismo tiempo es cotidiana, real y palpable. Es una lectura incómoda e inquietante en su inicio, dolorosa, pero también entrañable, tierna y maravillosa. Nadie que lo haya leído podrá olvidar a Lissar y a su fiel Ceniza, son personajes que trascienden el papel, y su historia, es de esas que se te clavan muy dentro, que se quedan contigo para siempre.

Este es uno de mis libros favoritos de la vida, así que no puedo ser objetiva, pero subjetivamente os diré que para mi, este es el libro perfecto.

La reseña completa https://inthenevernever.blogspot.com/...

«Si Ceniza no hubiera llegado a ella, tal vez hubiera descubierto la avaricia en su lugar, pues su mundo tal y como ella lo entendía se había acabado con la muerte de su madre; y lo que había aprendido con esa muerte era que estaba sola, que siempre había estado sola y que se había acostumbrado a ello sin saber que se estaba acostumbrando a ello».

Hay libros que apenas empiezas sabes que se quedarán contigo para siempre. Historias que te rompen el corazón y luego te lo reconstruyen pedazo a pedazo. Que te muestran que incluso ante la oscuridad más aterradora puede haber esperanza. Incluso aunque el camino no sea rápido o fácil. Hoy quiero recomendarles Piel de ciervo, de Robin McKinley. Un cuento de hadas en el que, tal y como nos dicen desde Duermevela, «la magia, la maravilla y las pesadillas conviven». Un cuento oscuro que es una reinterpretación del clásico de Charles Perrault «Piel de asno». Un libro publicado originalmente en 1993 pero que hasta ahora (sorprendentemente dada su calidad) no había sido traducido en español.

I am a fan of Robin McKinley's and this one fully met my expectations, It is a beautifully written fairy tale for adults. Without including spoilers I feel that her characters have real depth and the novel has great power. A noticeably wide range of feelings exist For example there are lots of contrasts to be found - both hope and despair, anger and tenderness betrayal and fairness. Overall; loyalty and love shine out in this magical story. I loved it and recommend it highly.

I know 4 stars seems like a high rating, but honestly I'm disappointed I could not give this book 5 stars. It has all the ingredients of my 5 star books: princes, romance, intelligent heroines. There was loyalty and puppies and a beautiful princess. And I loved the story, especially told in Mckinley's pretty prose. But this book dragged, and I mean DRAGGED. I like books that make me savor each and every word but this one made me skip entire pages because absolutely nothing was happening for pages at a time.