Ella Enchanted

This book is a reread for me.  A long time ago a young Barbara read this book and fell in love.  I reread it because soon my daughters will be the right age to dig into it, and to see if it holds up to time.

The best part of Ella Enchanted is, without question, Ella herself. She’s relatable, aspirational, and genuinely clever in a way that feels earned rather than performative. Ella doesn’t have to “love books”, or ace lessons to prove she’s smart; her intelligence shows up in action. She weaponizes creativity, loopholes, and timing to survive situations no one should ever be forced into. Watching her think her way out of danger is consistently satisfying. And the letters with Char? Adorable. Low drama, high warmth, zero exhausting emotional gymnastics.

The world of Frell is fantasy-lite which I both loved and hated. There are elves, ogres, giants, and curses, but none of it demands encyclopedic recall. The worldbuilding is intentionally minimal, almost like a stage set designed to spotlight Ella’s choices rather than overshadow them with lore. Each creature appears in bite-sized episodes, serving a clear narrative purpose and often revealing something new about Ella herself. Ogres provide menace, giants bring absurd charm, and even the smaller encounters help define her kindness, cleverness, and resolve. That restraint makes the story feel approachable and perfect as an entry point into fantasy.

While the stepmother and stepsisters are classic cardboard fairytale villainy, Ella’s relationship with her father adds a layer of emotional complexity that hits harder than expected. He isn’t a monster; he’s weak, distracted, and painfully self-justifying. Their relationship swings between affection and disappointment, hope and betrayal, and it feels uncomfortably real. Each time he lets Ella down, it stings precisely because you understand how and why it happens.

The romance between Ella and Char is another quiet strength. Their relationship builds on friendship first, affection second, and mutual respect throughout. There’s no love-hate nonsense, no dramatic miscommunication spiral, no jealousy-as-a-love-language. Char genuinely listens to Ella, values her mind, and grows alongside her. The romance stays gentle and supportive, very much in the “single kiss, butterflies, and emotional safety” lane, which feels refreshingly intentional and perfectly suited to the story’s themes and the fact that this is a Young Adult novel.

Pacing-wise, the story moves steadily, but the tension never fully loosens because the premise itself is quietly horrifying. At any moment, Ella could be ordered into disaster. Levine balances that darkness with a bright, readable voice and well-timed humor, keeping the story from becoming overwhelming while never trivializing the stakes. The emotional beats land more often than not, especially when autonomy and choice are placed front and center.

That theme, freedom over propriety, is where Ella Enchanted truly shines. The book never forgets what it’s actually about: the right to choose, to resist, and to decide for yourself when rules deserve to be broken. It isn’t a life-rearranging read for me, but it’s sturdy, clever, and memorable for a reason. Be prepared for a disappointing sprinkle of very-90s fatphobia, and accept that the movie exists in a completely different universe wearing the same dress. Still, this is a classic for a reason: charming, sharp, easy to recommend, and absolutely a book I understand people imprinting on.