So Very Dark

How to Ditch Your Fairy by Justine Larbalestier:

Charlie (Charolette Adele Donna Seto Steele) lives in New Avalon where a healthy portion of the population have fairies.  No one knows exactly what fairies are, as they are entirely invisible, but their existence is fairly well proven by the effects that they have on their humans.  Fairies act as…well, much like an item in Dungeons and Dragons that gives the user special skills or strength or luck in a certain area.  Charlie’s best friend has a Shopping fairy (a thrilling match for a teenage girl) that lets her find great deals on cute clothes.  Sort of a +5 to shopping.  A boy from her school has a Sleep fairy, so that no matter how little sleep he gets, he will be perky and alert the following day.  Her classmate Fiorenze has an All The Boys Will Like You fairy, which Charlie considers highly unfair — especially when her new crush starts spending all his school hours holding hands with Fiorenze.

Charlie also has a fairy.  Charlie has a Parking fairy, which ensures that any car she is in will find a great parking spot.  Charlie is 14 years old and doesn’t have a license.  Charlie hates cars, hates the way cars smell and above all hates getting ‘borrowed’ by friends and family any time they are driving somewhere that is likely to have limited parking options.  Charlie hates her fairy and is determined to get rid of it — preferably replacing it with a better one.

There were a number of things I liked about this book.  The first couple of (super short) chapters didn’t really grab me but by mid-story I was pretty hooked.  First of all, the world is not only unique in it’s customs, beliefs, slang and so on, but the characters are incredibly comfortable in it…they will make passing references that leave the reader rather lost, as is normal when visiting a foreign land.  This bit of verisimilitude is saved from being incredibly frustrating, or alternately, explained in a clumsy and artless way, by the character of an in-plot visitor from a foreign land — Steffi,  Charlie’s new crush that just moved to New Avalon from the west coast and often has to have bits of culture explained to him.   The strong universe actually reminded me strongly of Scott Westerfield’s ‘Uglies’ series and of how after reading it I kept finding myself wanting to use ‘bubbly’ and ‘brain-missing’ in conversation.  (I found out why once I finished the book and read the back flap.  Larbalstier is married to Westerfield.)

Second, the plot is not without charm–there are teen-friendly lessons about judging people without getting to know them and watching what you wish for, and as the plot develops, all kinds of interesting tidbits are dropped about New Avalon, rules and fairies.

Now here’s where the book lost it, at least for me.  Unless there is a book coming out to follow this one (and I haven’t been able to find any evidence of any sequels yet) then the ending of HtDYF was much less than satisfying.  The central story was, in all honesty, a little on the shallow side.  Yes, it had life lessons cunningly told, but overall it was about a whiny teenager that feels like life isn’t fair.  Those interesting tidbits I mentioned were keeping my attention at LEAST as much as the story, if not more.  For example–Steffi, the new boy, is amazed by the self-obsessed nature of the residents of New Avalon, who firmly believe their city to be the center of the universe and quite honestly the best of everything.  Where he comes from, NA is sort of laughed at for that attitude, something that at first angers Charlie, then confuses her and by the end of the book has made her a little curious.  And Fairies!  No one knows what they are!  They’re invisible, and at one point it is hinted that they might be parasitic.  That’s INTERESTING!  Tell me more!  There are a number of places throughout the book where the author could have chosen to explore further into either one or both of these topics, but they are both kind of set aside as the happy ending draws nigh and the characters athletically avoid getting their feet tangled in countless loose ends.

I understand that the abandoned subjects could simply be catty social commentary, but I feel that Larbalestier really fell short if she intends to simply leave this book as a stand-alone piece.  Her world really felt like it had a more sinister underbelly that was worth an expidition or two.