Book Review: Cinder by Marissa Meyer

I have recently become quite interested in the idea of modern fairy tales. That is, modern retellings of classic fairy tales, meant to be marketed to tween/teenage readers. It is fascinating to me that the crux of these tales stands the test of time and needs only to be updated for a modern audience. I believe that these adaptations are paving the way for a new breed of feminist, and that contrary to what some people may think, the heroines of these classic stories are actually excellent role models for strong young women. More on that to come.

To that end, I recently finish reading Cinder by Marissa Meyer, the first in a quartet called The Lunar Chronicles.  It is, in a word, stellar. And it fits the mold of what I described above perfectly. Clearly this is a retelling of Cinderella, and in fact Meyer places quotes from the original story at strategic breaks throughout the book. But in this case, we are not in 18th century Europe, but Asia of the future. The book is set in a place called the Eastern Commonwealth, part of a united global community that is not only plagued by threats of war from the government on the moon, but from an actual plague itself. Oh, and Cinderella (Linh Cinder) is a cyborg.

With all this going on, Cinder becomes much more than a story about the good girl triumphing over her evil stepsisters--in fact, one of Cinder's stepsisters is actually a wonderful person. It becomes instead a book about hope, about social status, about racism, bigotry, and diplomacy. As Cinder finds herself more and more embroiled in the politics between Earthens (Earth people) and Lunars (Moon people), she has to confront difficult choices between self and country, single and whole.

Add to that Cinder's complete antithesis from the usual heroine: she is part girl part robot who works as a mechanic fixing cars and androids. She prizes practicality, compassion, and intelligence, and she recognizes the importance of her place in the world while simultaneously working toward a better future for herself and her race in the face of personal tragedy.  A noble role model indeed.

Style-wise the book was generic. At least, it was no more complicated or lyrical than you would expect from a young adult novel geared toward girls in their early teens. This is not to say that the writing was not good. In fact, I found myself enjoying the writing with the same enthusiasm that I enjoyed The Hunger Games. I even found myself reading the book in first person, though it was written in third person. Older readers might find the writing a little simplistic, but not clumsy or immature. Just when things started to go flat for me, Meyer slipped in something funny or sarcastic that made me smile and reengage (case in point, the robotic foot that is left behind at the ball in place of a glass slipper).  Ultimately, any lack of style in the writing is saved by the sheer amount of captivating material in the characters and plot. This novel is a prize in what is becoming an increasingly popular genre, taking a real classic and remaking it into something relevant, thought provoking, and engrossing for any reader of young adult fiction.

Bring on the sequels! And potentially a movie deal.