If you can, browse the first handful of this book’s bright pages to see what you’re in for. The almost cloying whimsy of its opening scene – where prim, dainty watercolours show us a decorous, blue-blooded courtship in progress – quickly curdles and turns foul in irreparable, shocking fashion. This precarious balance between goody-good sweetness and gut-churning savagery continues throughout, as the book transforms into a fable of fairy folk lost in the woods, where wee creatures struggle and perish in most beastly ways. Newly translated from the award-winning French album, Fabien Vehlmann’s tale of the rot underlying our prettiest fancies is gorgeously, grottily rendered by Kerascoët (the pen-name for Marie Pommepuy and husband Sébastien Cosset). None of your Disneyfied Tinkerbells here: this is the old, brutal stuff out of Andersen, Grimm, or Charles Perrault, where the wolf devours Red Riding Hood, and Snow White tortures her stepmom to death. Beautiful darkness, indeed.