From early childhood, we’re taught where our fictional allegiances should lie. Who to root for, who to dislike, with precious little backstory to base those conclusions on. Hansel & Gretel is a great case in point; the Brothers Grimm made it very clear that the poor woodcutter and his two children were worthy of our sympathy, while the stepmother and the witch were not. To see this well-worn tale elevated beyond caricature and populated with three-dimensional characters would be reason enough to love it. But poet Simon Armitage and illustrator Clive Hicks-Jenkins give us many more besides.

First, there’s the book itself, a gorgeously constructed hardback filled with dynamic typography that plays with colour, formatting and space. Hicks-Jenkins’ artwork is equally colourful and engaging but, more than that, his interpretation of Armitage’s words comes with its own layer of complexity, holding your eye longer than the average illustration. As a package, it’s a thing of beauty that deserves to be left out on a table for guests to run their hands over; and to find itself gift-wrapped under many a Christmas tree this December.

Aesthetics aside, for they will only take you so far, Armitage’s words are an absolute treasure trove. The crux of the original Grimm story is still here, but with an injection of humanity and empathy so strong that it almost feels like a new tale. Billed as a ‘darkly glittering fairytale for grown-ups’, it’s certainly not nursery fare but neither is it the strict domain of adults. For the message here is a strong and important one: people do extreme things in extreme circumstances. And just as nobody puts their child on a flimsy dinghy if the land they’re leaving behind isn’t a more terrifying proposition, no one takes their children into the woods and leaves them if the alternative isn’t somehow worse.

There’s no flimsily drawn wicked stepmother in Armitage’s version, just two parents living in conditions that provoke genuine empathy from the reader. Here, an unnamed country is stripped of its assets by an ever-changing regime that never really evolves, leaving its residents poverty-stricken, fearful and desperate. ‘Where there was once a village, there was mainly rubble,’ writes Armitage, setting the scene and describing a homeland too many people in war-torn lands know all too well. But the sun and moon swap places and life goes on, and it is this resilience that Armitage captures most acutely. A heartbreaking yet hopeful story that bears repeat readings again and again.

Hansel & Gretel: A Nightmare In Eight Scenes is published by Faber on Tuesday 3 October.