I feel like it's pretty safe to say that a
lot of YA dystopian novels follow a predictable pattern, noticeable even from
just reading the blurb. This was what I was expecting of this week's book, Red Queen, or, in my case, audiobook. The recurring theme that I have been coming across
generally goes something along the lines of:
“[Protagonist], between the ages of
15-18, is set up to live a happy comfortable life, part of the elite society in
which she was raised, however, on the eve of an important turning point she meets
dark and mysterious [male love interest], who was raised in the less
privileged life she has been sheltered from, who shows her the bleak reality of
life outside her privileged bubble, and together they uncover dark secrets
about the Capitol/Society/Republic (etc.), and become entangled in a conflict
that threatens to change everything. However, [Protagonist] also finds
herself embroiled in another conflict – between the dark and mysterious [male
love interest 1] and loyal and dependable [male love interest 2]. (Who she's
probably been friends with since childhood) [Protagonist] must make a choice
that will change her life and everything around her forever.”
Or, it’s the reverse; [Protagonist] is
part of the oppressed population, is somehow exposed to the pageantry
filled life of the elite ruling class,
joins a rebel group and plays a key role in the following the
revolution. And, while the childhood-friend-as-love-interest trope
remains, the dark and mysterious love interest is often replace by a
prince. As in an actual prince. The genre is very fond of princes. Obviously, this doesn’t apply to every
dystopia, of course there are exceptions, but the fact that it's a recognizable pattern is proof enough of its prevalence.
To paraphrase Red Queen's blurb:
Mare Barrows is living in poverty in a
society where those who bleed silver and have abilities live in their mansions
and palaces as living gods while their red-blooded brethren live in poverty; suffering so the elite can live in luxury. Change and equality seem like an
impossibility, until Mare, working for the Silver elite, discovers that she, an
ordinary, common Red, has an ability to rival that of the most powerful Slivers.
All of a sudden, she is a threat to them, because she could tip the balance of power
for good, changing everything forever.
From the summary of the book, I think it's
pretty easy to see that Red Queen fits into the second type of dystopian
narrative, and as I was listening to it that's where I assumed it was going. At the beginning it felt like it would be a predictable story; all the elements like the class divide, the rebel movement and the pageantry of the ruling class were there. But, although it seemed so formulaic, the beginning of Red Queen was so entirely engrossing, with imagery
that almost physically grabs you and pulls you into the story. I became a
little bit obsessed, trying to listen to it whenever I possibly could, even if
just for five minutes. Because I was so invested in the world, I was completely
willing to keep listening, and really
curious to see if it would actually deviate from the standard course.
The further the story
got, the more it started to branch off of the conventional path. If you read
any of the reviews on Goodreads, you will be met with many exclamations of
“THAT PLOT TWIST!!” followed by many dramatic, but apt gifs. I have to agree; I
honestly did not see the plot twist coming, and I have to say, being blind-sided with a
plot twist is not only surprising and entertaining, but also really exciting. In
my book, shouting “WOW I DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING,” and then immediately
afterwards “OH MY GOD WHY?,” means the book is doing something right. I
definitely wasn't expecting the story to take so many turns in all the
directions, but it made perfect sense after the fact, not just from a story arc
point of view, but also because the characters had been so well realised, and
it made so much sense from the way the main character portrayed the events.
Speaking of our [Protagonist], I found
Mare really interesting in the way that she subtly defied the traditional role
of a female protagonist so frequently seen in cookie-cutter dystopias. All the events of the book are triggered by her
efforts to protect her friend (childhood
friend, but more on him later), something that she continues to do
throughout the book. She also works to protect other male characters from
various events and truths. What’s so nice about this is how it’s not some
hugely emasculating offence to the guys in question.
One repeating line throughout the book is “anyone can betray anyone,” and betrayal is definitely a strong theme. It is made clear that Mare is willing to manipulate anyone necessary, and sacrifices of life are made for the greater good, often of sympathetic characters. Red Queen plays with morality and sacrifice in a very blunt, conflicted, and honest way.
One repeating line throughout the book is “anyone can betray anyone,” and betrayal is definitely a strong theme. It is made clear that Mare is willing to manipulate anyone necessary, and sacrifices of life are made for the greater good, often of sympathetic characters. Red Queen plays with morality and sacrifice in a very blunt, conflicted, and honest way.
Something else I really liked was that Mare’s super bad-ass powers are offensive abilites. So often, women are the healers, or the shields; they are given bows and arrows that remove them from the heat of the battle, or are left behind entirely. Susan and Lucy from the Narnia Chronicles are perfect examples; given a bow and healing tonic, respectively, while their brothers get swords and armor. Mare discovers the full extent of her abilities, and she uses them to their full potential. In fact, in the world of the Silver elite, everyone is
trained to kill equally, and Queen’s Trial, the competition to choose a bride
for the two Silver princes, is not a pageant of beauty or social graces, but of strength
of abilities. The female antagonists in this book are not stereotypical characters. They are strong, they are forces to be reckoned with, and they are just as deadly as their male counterparts.
Another note-worthy deviation from the convention is the love triangles in the narrative. I've already written (read: ranted) before about love triangles, but this triangle in question is quite different. I guess in the case of Red Queen it should be called a Love… Quadrangle? Maybe just a love
square. The love polygon (?) is taken to the max with not only the childhood friend
trope but also not one, but two princes. The triangle or quadrangle, or whatever,
is almost present but doesn’t come to a big, climactic conflict moment, which
works really well because it doesn’t make sense for Mare to be with any of the
possible love interests, because of conflicting interests, or wrongs done. It
would possibly make sense for conflict to arise in the second book (waiting for
2016… waiting…), but I’m glad that it didn’t happen in this one for the sake of
contextual consistency and integrity.
While plot-wise, Red Queen is excellent, the one thing that annoyed me about the book was how often words
and motifs were repeated. This works fine in the case of the
aforementioned betrayal quote, but not necessarily for the other cases. A lot of characters do a lot of smirking. Also sneering and
grimacing. Mare not understanding things, is another heavily repetitive theme,
with her not understanding technology, behaviour, or people in general. I couldn’t
quite tell if it was intentional, building up to one big moment of clarity, or
if it was an easy way to dismiss things the author didn’t want to go into detail
on. I wanted the lack of understanding to represent a transition of Mare thinking she was ordinary and selling herself short, to her realising her full potential. Ultimately there was a big moment of clarity, like I’d hoped, but it was difficult to know if it was on purpose, or a coincidence.
All in all, Red Queen is utterly enthralling; another book whose sequel goes on
the “Eagerly Anticipated” list. It kept me listening, grabbing for it at any
possible moment, and got me through many electricity-less nights.
Feisty Chick-O-Meter: 9/10
Age Rating: 14+
Rating: Starting a 7/10 with a sharp slide up to a 9/10
Book or Audiobook: Audiobook
Stand Alone or Series: Series
Length: 320 pages
Obsession level: ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT DETAILS ABOUT THE TITLE AND COVER OF THE NEXT BOOK ARE COMING THIS SUMMER AKA. SOON.
Feisty Chick-O-Meter: 9/10
Age Rating: 14+
Rating: Starting a 7/10 with a sharp slide up to a 9/10
Book or Audiobook: Audiobook
Stand Alone or Series: Series
Length: 320 pages
Obsession level: ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT DETAILS ABOUT THE TITLE AND COVER OF THE NEXT BOOK ARE COMING THIS SUMMER AKA. SOON.

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