The Woodcutter Sisters, Book III:
Dearest. By Alethea Kontis. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. $8.99.
Seeker, Book II: Traveler. By
Arwen Elys Dayton. Delacorte Press. $18.99.
If there is one thing that
tends to distinguish adventure fantasy for preteens and young teens from the
same genre for older teens, it is the use of humor. The thinking seems to be
that the more humor a series possesses, the younger the readers to whom it will
appeal. Certainly humor can minimize the intensity of adventure, but it can
also provide some leavening within a generally dark tale – even The Lord of the Rings, which has
inspired such a huge percentage of more-recent adventure fantasy, has its moments
of levity (not many, but some). The pluses and minuses of humor-infused
adventures are clear in Dearest,
which is intended for younger teenagers, and Traveler, which is aimed at older ones. Dearest is the third book in Alethea Kontis’ very clever multi-book
mashup of fairy tales, which tells or will tell the stories of the seven
Woodcutter sisters – one named after each day of the week. The series opened
with Enchanted and continued with Hero, and now moves on to the story of
Friday Woodcutter, apprentice seamstress and all-around sweetheart. Indeed,
Friday is so good that readers of the
first two books may expect her to come across as something of a prig. But
Kontis is, in the main, too clever to let that happen. She avoids the too-nice
trap largely through marvelous turns of phrase (“this girl shone in the gloom
of adversity so brightly that she cast rainbows”) and through, yes, humor. For
instance, Friday turns out to be a bit boy-crazy (which, however, does not stop
her from instantly recognizing her true love when she sees him and experiences
one of those fairy-tale love-at-first-sight moments). Yes, she is innocent,
rather endearingly so, and wonderful with the children who seem drawn to her
like iron filings to a magnet. Kontis goes beyond the Grimm fairy tales that
she usually interweaves in these books when it comes to some of those children:
Friday takes care of three orphans named Wendy, Michael and John, and calls
them her, um, darlings. Get it? The Darlings? Peter Pan? This is a good example both of humor and of a certain
subtlety: it is possible to read all the books in this series without knowing
the underlying fairy tales, but it adds a great deal of enjoyment if you do know them. The primary tale here is
the Grimms’ The Six Swans, and Friday’s
true love is one of those, so the breaking of the swan spell is a central part
of the book. But some of the novel’s byways are fun, too: the brothers are really
funny in their interactions with each other (that humorous penchant of Kontis
coming to the fore yet again), and one of them is in love not with a human but
with a swan, whose name happens to be Odette, as in Princess Odette of Swan Lake. Again, knowing the references
is generally unnecessary but certainly gives Dearest more scope and depth. But in truth, at some points it is almost necessary to know the stories
on which Kontis draws, for instance when Tristan, Friday’s true love, gets
transformationally stuck between swan and man: that is a crucial event in the
Grimms’ story, but here it just sort of happens without explanation. Of course,
a great deal “just happens” in all fairy tales, but there are usually
explanations within the context of the stories: “because of the prophecy,”
“because of the evil spell,” that sort of thing. There is none of that here. Kontis
does not shrink from the darker sides of the old fairy tales: for instance,
there is a death in Dearest that,
while admittedly very convenient for the plot, is troubling and comes across as
rather arbitrary (as do many Grimm deaths). But what Kontis does consistently
and well is to keep enough humor in the Woodcutter novels to prevent the
darkness of the foundational tales – which were very dark indeed – from
swamping the enjoyable aspects of the narratives and making them depressing.
The second book in Arwen
Elys Dayton’s very interesting Seeker
series, Traveler, is almost humorless
and steeped in darkness, as befits a typical novel aimed at ages 14 and up. But
like its predecessor, Traveler is
better than most books of its genre. Dayton humanizes her characters
effectively and tells the story well from multiple points of view – albeit in
language that does not vary much from character to character. Primary protagonist
Quin Kincaid has learned that her role as a Seeker is not to protect people through intense training and the use of a
special weapon called an “athame” (three syllables: ATH-uh-may). That was the Seeker way, but now Seekers are
assassins, killing for money. Why? That is an important element explored in Traveler, as Quin and Shinobu use
Catherine’s journal as a guide to, or toward, the truth about their world.
Catherine’s storyline is crucial in this second book, providing background
information that helps make both Traveler
and its predecessor much clearer. It is worth remembering that Dayton’s world has
at its core a set of three laws whose resemblance to Isaac Asimov’s justly
famed Three Laws of Robotics is likely deliberate: “First law: a Seeker is
forbidden to take another family’s athame. Second law: a Seeker is forbidden to
kill another Seeker save in self-defense. Third law: a Seeker is forbidden to
harm humankind.” Trying to find out what the laws mean, and what the whole
Seeker experience was supposed to mean and has now come to mean, is a great deal
of what Traveler is about. In
addition, star-crossed lovers Quin and John are not only separated in Traveler but also have gone their own different
ways in terms of training: John is learning from Maud (known as the Young
Dread) so he can become strong, fast and powerful enough to avenge the death of
his mother – Catherine. Thus, Catherine’s story helps pull Quin and John apart
and at the same time unites them in their different forms of seeking – the sort
of adept narrative twist that Dayton employs in Traveler as she did in Seeker.
The book is perhaps too packed with the secrets and the twists and turns
typical of its genre, and is certainly too Perils-of-Pauline in its pacing:
again and again, a chapter ends with a cliffhanger, thus presumably pulling
readers quickly into the next chapter but also showing a certain level of
authorial manipulativeness that is overdone. Still, the technique is undeniably
exciting, at least the first few times Dayton uses it. By the end of Traveler, Dayton has answered a lot of
questions, raised others, resolved a love triangle, and left her characters in
difficult positions from which she will need to extricate them in the series’
concluding volume. The Seeker trilogy
does have formulaic elements, such as setting events in different geographical
areas without really differentiating the locations; and in truth, the overall
story arc and writing style are not especially distinguished. But the pacing and
skillful use of multiple viewpoints are as impressive in the second book of the
trilogy as they were in the first, and Traveler
is certainly strong enough to leave readers eager for the wrap-up of the
adventure in the forthcoming Disruptor.
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