On Everyman, even when he's a mouse

When I first read The Tale of Despereaux I was intrigued to find a adult novel masquerading as a children's book. A children's book is a nice disguise, especially if you have to discuss difficult issues such as justice and violence. The human reader does not always want to address difficult topics head on. It's too depressing to read about greed, jealousy, and hate since those are things we face on a daily basis. A long time ago a Greek by the name of Aesop talked about the human condition by writing a series of stories in which animals talk. This is a beautiful convention to shift the focus away from the human animal by focusing on the errors and imperfections of rabbits, turtles, foxes, crows, oxen, lions or mice. Many people make the mistake of believing that these are children's stories, but they are sorely mistaken because the stories are about them--adults. Despereaux is a mouse, and at some time in his past, he pulled the thorn from a lion's paw and made himself a powerful friend. When the mouse stands in for a man, he stands in for Everyman, an anonymous, un-marked, commonplace man who is not particularly heroic or strong, he possess no super-powers, he is not famous or well-known and he could be either you, me, or anyone we know. In many ways, Despereaux embodies most, or all, of the qualities of that Everyman: he is not strong physically, or popular, or good-looking. What he is, though, is a survivor. He was a stone mason in Iberia during the time of Christ, and he built an aqueduct. He didn't die of the plague in 1347, but his family did. He was at Gettysburg, and he helped to bury the dead. He walked onto Omaha Beach on June 6, 1944, and later returned to his job in Detroit building cars. He has survived earthquakes, fires, drought, famine, hurricanes and tidal waves. He never dies, but he has never had a name, either. Despereaux is as good as any, I imagine.