The School for Good and Evil 2: A
World without Princes. By Soman Chainani. Harper. $16.99.
Kate the Great #1: Except When
She’s Not. By Suzy Becker. Crown. $12.99.
There is potential, and then
there is potential unfulfilled, and then there is potential not fulfilled yet.
Soman Chainani’s The School for Good and
Evil was fraught with potential, a wonderful debut novel that not only
turned fairy-tale tropes on their head but also raised some genuinely
thoughtful questions about good, evil and the many grey areas in between. The
book cried out for a sequel, and its conclusion made it clear that there would
be one, although how there would be
one was a reasonable question, since the novel’s chief manipulator/evildoer was
thoroughly defeated (to the point of being dead). Now we know how: through a
distinctly inferior followup novel that eliminates the thoughtfulness of the
original, creates a substitute for the primary bad guy of the first book, and
eventually even finds a way to resurrect that initial evil character – in a bit
of plot absurdity that borrows rather too much from the fairy-tale concepts
that Chainani neatly twisted and embellished in his first outing. The original
idea of a world in which stereotypical Good and Evil characters attend separate
academies that are really part of a single school was an excellent one. And the
basic plot mover was very clever: two girls being brought to the school and
placed – so they believe – in the wrong sections of it. It turns out, in the
first book, that the girl placed in Evil belongs there, despite her
princess-like appearance and mannerisms, while the one placed in Good may look dark and witchy but is actually in
the correct place as well. Eventually reconciled despite many dangers and
misunderstandings, the girls at the end escape the school and its fairy-tale
world altogether. But in the second book, that world calls to them again, and
when they return this time, they find that the opposing school contingents are
now not Good and Evil but Boys and Girls. Oh, that’s original. And it is only one of a series of disappointments
in A World without Princes. Sophie,
who looks angelic but is a very foul witch internally, is so overdone in this
book that any balance between her and actually-good Agatha is completely lost.
Sophie has become a cardboard character, a type, utterly narcissistic, manipulative,
untruthful, scheming, and all the other things one would expect of an Evil character:
there is no tension anymore, except insofar as readers will wonder why Agatha
is such an idiot that it takes her considerable time to realize what Sophie is
and what she is doing. Yes, Agatha has been simplified, too, turned into a
slow-witted, slow-on-the-uptake character who knows what she has to do but
constantly questions herself and doubts herself and ties herself into knots
because maybe, maybe, just maybe all
the evidence involving Sophie is wrong. This is simplification to the point of
caricature, and this is what Chainani does throughout the book with other
characters as well, including other girls as well as the teachers and the
absurdly overdone dean of the girls’ school (who is so formulaic that she would
be twirling a mustache if she had one). What rescues A World without Princes from the abyss of total mediocrity is the
quality of Chainani’s writing: even with so unpromising a plot, he manages to create
cinematic scenes whose action-packed pace will keep many readers interested and
unconcerned about the gaping plot holes and dumbing-down of the whole story
arc. The result is a book that is a lot of fun to read and almost no fun at all
to think about – a real shame, since the first book invited both enjoyment and
thoughtfulness. However, there is sure to be a sequel to this sequel, and
hopefully Chainani will find his way back to an approach that transcends the
ordinary instead of becoming mired in it.
Bright writing and pleasant
pacing rescue the first Kate the Great
book from mediocrity, too, although its plot is so ordinary that it might as
well have been taken from a list called “what to write for middle schoolers.” Using
the increasingly popular form of a highly illustrated book containing tons of
drawings “by” the title character – a format that is not quite novel, not quite
graphic novel – Suzy Becker makes Kate the usual caught-in-the-middle middle
child, with a too-good-to-be-true older sister and too-cute-to-be-real younger
sister. Kate has the usual middle-school issues to handle: school and homework
assignments, friends and frenemies (no out-and-out enemies here), and
family-relationship matters. There is nothing at all creative about her list of
problems and concerns, but there is
creativity in Becker’s illustrations “by” Kate, and they are what save the book
and make it an enjoyable series launch. The “also known as” self-portraits on
the inside front cover give an immediate clue to how “Kate” draws and thinks,
and the many illustrations within the story rescue it, time and again, from
becoming just another recitation of middle-school sort-of-angst. Becker clearly
has a great time with these drawings – she even encloses the book’s back-cover
bar code in a “Kate-drawn” zebra – and readers will, too: the moon, carrying an
umbrella, three times reminds Kate that her music teacher said “well done,
Kate”; a pie chart shows several possible explanations of “why I said ‘what?’”;
“Robin’s cross-eyed fish face” is drawn three ways, including “Calder style –
my favorite”; a drawing of a building portrays “Mrs. Staughton’s Brilliant Idea
Factory”; there are pictures of potential new ways to communicate, including
“singing gorilla” and “friendship herbs”; and so on. The underlying plot
elements, such as Kate giving “frenemy” Nora a horse figurine belonging to older
sister Robin and then having to figure out how to get it back, apologize and
mend fences all around, are nothing special. But the way the story is told is
special, and that is what can propel the Kate
the Great series from now on. Potentially.
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