genre: dystopia
rating: 4/8 tentacles
This novel is the second in a trilogy. Spoilers for Legend below.
Day and June, after preventing Day's execution, travel to Vegas seeking the Patriots' help. However, the Patriots don't give away anything for free. If Day and June want their assistance, they'll have to play a role in the assassination of the new Elector. When June meets the new leader, she discovers that he may not be the tyrant his father was, and she begins to doubt the necessity of the rebels' plot. As Day and June move forward with the assassination, both become less and less sure of who they can trust, even beginning to doubt each other.
This trust dilemma creates a deliciously ambiguous conflict. With Razor, Patriot leader, on one side, and the new Elector, Anden, on the other, Day and June are divided between destroying the government in a full revolution, or giving the new Elector a chance to steer the existing government in a more positive direction. Which way is the best way? From a reader's perspective, both of these options make sense, and it's easy to empathize with the confusion that Day and June feel, as well as their fear of being manipulated. This representation of the rebels and the ruling authority is refreshingly human, although some of the grey sharpens into black and white as new information is revealed later on.
Although the premise of the plot is intriguing and creates the potential for complexity, its execution leaves much to be desired. In my review of Legend I mentioned the author's tendency to tell rather than show. This continues in Prodigy. The narrative consists of superficial inner monologues that repeat themselves and are overrun with rhetorical questions. Here is the first example I found, flipping through the book:
If Razor thinks June is safest under Thomas's watch, then so be it. But what are they going to do with June once they've got her? What if something goes wrong, and Congress or the courts do something that Razor didn't plan for? How can he be so sure that everything will go smoothly?
There are many more instances of this, and it isn't enjoyable to read. We're told what questions we should be asking instead of being lead to consider these possibilities on our own. There are better ways of creating tension in fiction, like through sensory detail or dialogue or descriptions of the behaviors of the characters. Spelling it out like this is boring for me (and other readers, I imagine) and lazy on the part of the writer.
My other problem with Prodigy (and Legend) is June. Everyone finds her beautiful, she wins every battle she fights, she has flawless logic (she conveniently figures everything out before everyone else), her brain is basically a clock (she can tell you exactly how many minutes and seconds have passed between events), she is THE BEST student ever to attend her military college. She's not a person, she's a fantasy, and I find her incredibly flat and boring. What's the point of making her so robotic-ly perfect? If I wasn't so fond of Day, I don't think I could've made it through these two books and if June was the sole protagonist, I'd have given up long ago.
These problems existed in Legend but seem to be amplified here, like the author is giving in to her weaknesses instead of improving on them. I do love the story. I'm interested in the conflict between the Republic and the Colonies. I love Day's relationship with the people of the Republic and the dramatic irony that comes out of his execution (we know he's alive, the people don't). As I said before, I like the way that Lu deals with trust. And I will read Champion as soon as it's released, but I'm crossing my fingers hoping that Lu will learn and grow as a writer because I'm not satisfied with the level of skill exhibited here.
