Troubletwisters, Book Three: The
Mystery. By Garth Nix and Sean Williams. Scholastic. $16.99.
The Flame in the Mist. By Kit
Grindstaff. Delacorte Press. $16.99.
“In Portland, nothing ever
seems to make sense,” would be a laughable line if one were talking about, say,
Portland, Maine, or Portland, Oregon. But it is a perfectly sensible statement
when talking about the Portland of the Troubletwisters
series, where in fact very little does
make sense – and when things turn out to make too much sense, all it takes is a little clouding of one’s memory
to prevent a person from connecting the dots. The Troubletwisters protagonists are twins Jack and Jaide Shield, and
they are, yes, a shield between good and evil, and just in case there is any
uncertainty about that, the force they fight again and again is actually called
The Evil. They get much help from others with powers (“Gifts”) similar to
theirs, notably Grandma X – yes, she is really called that – plus assists at
times from ordinary people such as their school friend, Tara, whose memory,
however, must be suppressed because….well, just because. “After The Evil had
been vanquished [temporarily, in the previous book of this series], one of
Grandma X’s fellow Wardens, a big-haired man named Aleksandr, had used his Gift
to cloud Tara’s memory of everything that had happened to her.” And so we are
now in the third Troubletwisters
saga, a book that moves along expertly thanks to the pacing talents of Garth
Nix and Sean Williams but that is nevertheless, really, a little silly when it
comes to such things as plot coherence. This series entry has to do with an old
castle in Portland and the old man who lives there and then dies there
mysteriously – of course
“mysteriously” – so that Jack and Jaide have to search the house for a treasure
that The Evil wants and that they must find first. But it happens that they do
not know what the treasure is or what it looks like, and that certainly
complicates things. In fact,
complications abound here – Nix and Williams are good at pulling them out of
every narrative corner. They are not so good at keeping their writing
believable – it often seems on the verge of being unintentionally funny: “If
Ari suspected that there was a giant, vulnerable bird cooped up, who knew what
he might get up to?” “Jack shook his head, remembering kamikaze insects that
had been drawn toward him, only to die upon touching his skin.” There are some intentionally funny passages, too, but
by and large, The Mystery is an
adventure, complete with a talking death mask, issues involving the twins’
mother and father (as well as Grandma X), a painting of a woman in yellow,
characters named Rodeo Dave and Zebediah, a macaw that talks in nautical
phrases, and a meaningless quatrain that – as usual with meaningless quatrains
in books like this – turns out to be very important indeed. The twins
eventually figure out what they are looking for, and find it, and then things
get really complicated as The Evil
reemerges in a way that surprises Jack and Jaide but probably will not surprise
readers – it is a pretty obvious twist. A revelation about the generalized importance
of twins in the Troubletwisters world
is the main plot advance here, given that the defeat of The Evil – yet again –
is scarcely unexpected. The Troubletwisters series is light reading,
despite its occasional moments of drama, and preteens who enjoyed the first two
books will not be disappointed in this third entry.
The Flame in the Mist is a more-intense good-vs.-evil story, and is
something of a rarity in modern preteen fantasy adventures because it is a
standalone novel rather than the first of a series (although it is certainly
possible that future books could be set in the same world if this one is
successful). This is Kit Grindstaff’s debut novel, and it is a remarkably
sure-handed one in navigating the largely familiar territory of
sort-of-alternative sort-of-history. Set in a land that somewhat resembles
medieval England, the book is the story of Jemma Agromond, who somehow knows
she is not really an Agromond, that being
the name belonging to a vicious family that rules Anglavia and keeps the land
shrouded in mist, and in which the mother wears a perfume called Eau de Magot.
Jemma’s red hair is an obvious symbol of fire or light to burn away the mist,
eventually, and there is never the slightest doubt about how evil the Agromonds
are: an early scene has them using a death chant to evoke a spirit that will
keep light away and force everyone to live in darkness. So the book’s theme is
quite explicit and straightforward from the start. So are many of the
accoutrements of Jemma’s adventures: ghosts, an ancient prophecy that she must
fulfill, a mysterious book, a close friend and helper, and animal companions.
Actually, the animals are not typical for a story such as this: they are rats –
golden ones, to be sure, and telepathic, but still, they are rats, and as such are rarely cast in
heroic roles. This casting-against-type may be why they turn out to be some of
the strongest and most interesting characters in the book (weasels, on the
other hand, are decidedly evil here). Despite the sort-of-medieval setting, the
dialogue here is entirely modern, with some attempt to set “country” characters
apart by giving them a kind of “rural-speak.” For example: “Been watchin’ yer
fer years, haven’t I, while you was doin’ yer fetchin’ an’ carryin’ in the
kitchen an’ stables. You never saw me, ’cause I kep’ hid to make sure you
wouldn’t.” The speech of all the characters can be awkward, with passages such
as, “‘Me no kill,’ he said, ‘only find what fall off crag.’” And many elements
of the book are far from surprising, such as Jemma’s discoveries about her real
family, including the fact that she has (or had) a brother, and the way Jemma’s
dreams reveal reality to her. Grindstaff’s authorial inexperience shows from
time to time, as in a scene during a wide-ranging search by multiple people in
which the only two characters with information important to Jemma happen to
stop precisely within earshot of her current hiding place and happen to discuss
exactly what she needs to know to advance the plot. There is also a hilariously
inapt scene in which Jemma discovers news clippings (which are barely
plausible), one of which contains a thoroughly incongruous reference to “a
family spokesperson” (so silly in this “medievalism and magic” context as to be
laugh-out-loud ridiculous). In general, Grindstaff seems less interested in
reaching beyond her novel’s genre than in exploring it thoroughly – which means
that The Flame in the Mist will be of
interest to young readers who enjoy fantasy adventures in a sort-of-medieval
setting but will scarcely attract others. The light-vs.-dark theme is at times
overdone: “Here, we call [today] Sunday, in honor of the sun, the bringer of
light and life. ‘Mord’ is everything opposite to that: darkness, and death.
Before Mordrake Agromond, there was no Mord-day. Only Sunday. We have always
refused to call it otherwise.” And the final confrontation, which Grindstaff
handles well, has the inevitable effect of setting something mystical and light
against something mystical and dark, with the light, of course, finally
triumphant. The ending of The Flame in
the Mist is no surprise, and neither are many of the individual events in
it, but because the book as a whole has a well-told story and some attractive
characters, both human and animal, genre fans will certainly enjoy it.
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