While the shrewd Maria explained and arranged all this so well in her mind, she believed, since she had seen Nutcracker and his vassals in life and motion, that they actually did live and move. But that was not so; every thing in the glass case remained stiff and lifeless; yet Maria, far from giving up her conviction, cast all the blame upon the magic of Lady Mouserings and her seven-headed son.
After Drosselmeier tells Maria the story of Princess Pirlipat and the nut Crackatuck, she sees a clear connection between the tale and the nighttime battle of the Nutcracker and the Mouse King. The fact that she puts these pieces together so quickly reflects her willingness to believe in the extraordinary and the significance of that belief. Maria’s imagination completely changes her perception of reality, allowing her to view the Nutcracker as the victim of a magical curse. This stance then gives her the agency to participate in the battle for the Puppet Kingdom herself.
After a year and a day, he came, as I have heard, and carried her away in a golden chariot, drawn by silver horses. There danced at the wedding two-and-twenty thousand of the most splendid figures, adorned with pearls and diamonds; and Maria, it is said, is at this hour queen of a land, where sparkling Christmas woods, transparent Marchpane Castles—in short, where the most beautiful, the most wonderful things can be seen by those who will only have eyes for them.
In this final paragraph, Hoffmann ends the story on a rather ambiguous note by discussing Maria’s fate in uncertain terms. This rhetorical approach offers one final challenge to the reader by allowing them to decide whether or not to believe in the Puppet Kingdom. Hoffmann imbues the entire story with elements of magical realism, suggesting that belief can render the extraordinary possible. The indistinguishability of reality and fantasy ultimately invites the reader to embrace the power of imagination.