Christian Ulbricht Mouse King German Nutcracker

Let's be honest. Most figurines of me are insulting. They give me a sneer, a pot-belly, and a piece of cheese the size of my head, as if a king of anywhere spent his reign chasing dairy. I have seen the bad ones. I have crushed a few with my own boot, in rooms of this Castle where the other editors pretend not to notice. Christian Ulbricht, mercifully, did not make one of those.

Here is what the Seiffen workshop understood. The natural wood finish — brown stain over the base, no cheap lacquer, no candy-coat paint — lets the grain of the linden show through at 16.5 inches tall. That is the detail collectors catch: an Ulbricht Mouse King is carved first and colored second, not the other way around. Note the real-hair whisker beard in that unapologetic gray, the vertical row of small gold buttons on the dark reddish-brown jacket, and the thin pale tail curving down to the round base behind the boots. The crown wears a gold band and a tiny star finial. The cape is navy fabric, actual fabric, draped the way a cape drapes when its owner is not embarrassed by it. And yes, fine, the left hand holds what Fritz insists is a cheese pennant. I have given up correcting him.

This one lives in my study, the one the Nutcracker Prince is not permitted to enter without knocking. Drosselmeyer calls it "the grudge room." I call it accurate. Come see me there if you want. Bring the scepter if you like — we can discuss terms.

— The Mouse King