Serpents of
Arakesh by V. M. Jones
Appearances
can be deceptive. The four people around
the table look like a businesswoman (Veronica Sherwood); a tramp (Quentin
Quested); a bodybuilder (Shaw; and a bank manager (Withers). You would neverguess that Quentin is actually
one of the wealthiest men in the world, the world’s most wizardly computer
genius and the man behind the best-selling Quest
computer games.
The most
recent game—Quest for the Golden Goblet—is
being marketed with a special promotion sweepstakes. People who register the game get to enter a
contest to win a complete computer system, a complete set of the Quest games and … a two-day gaming
workshop with Q himself. Faster than you can say “golden ticket,” thousands of
entries pour in, and salfes have jumped two hundred percent.
Q has a very
personal agenda behind the contest, though. He wants to find five children who
can enter the magical world of his creation and find a healing potion that will
save the life of his daughter Hannah.
It’s clear
the author has seen Willy Wonka and the
Chocolate Factory a few times, but
that’s okay. Jones has taken the basic
“golden ticket” premise and given it an interesting Harry Potte-ish gloss. (Like Harry, protagonist Adam is an orphan
who has to deal with bullies.)
The book is
very well written. Even fans of J.K.
Rowling’s humongously best-selling Potter books have to admit that her prose is
no always that graceful. This wrting in
this book is wonderful. It just wraps
you up from the first page and brings you into its world. Even the occasional use of New Zealand
English—Bart Simpson giving someone “the brown eye” instead of “mooning
someone”—won’t disrupt the flow.
The
characters are very well-drawn, even if some of them (like Matron) are a little
exaggerated. She’s just a bit too awful
for words. But Adam is a terrific
character. We’re sympathetic to him from the beginning, but when he prays for
God to let something wonderful happen to him, to not let his life always be
like it is—it just breaks our hearts.
He’s a handsome kid, as it turns out, though he doesn’t know it, and his
flaws—his near illiteracy in particular—make him all the more human. We root for him to overcome his learning
disabilities and grow into the potential that we see, even if his teachers
don’t.
Hannah is an
absolute delight, a precocious child who adores her father, champions Adam and
acts like a dearly loved kid without ever seeming like a sitcom
adult-in-a-child’s-body. And without
even reading the other books, you start to think that when she and Adam grow
up, they’re going to be a couple because they are totally on the same wave
length. Her father calls her
“chatterbot” which is a nice touch (and so much more original than the generic
“pumpkin” we see so often in books to indicate a parent’s fondness for a
child).
Q is a nicely
eccentric twist on a very familiar character—the absent-minded genius. He’s very, very likable and so we like him
very much from the moment we meet him in the board room, fiddling with his
computer while the others in the room try to take care of business.
One of Adam’s
friends, a boy named Cameron, is dear.
He’s a rich boy who doesn’t flaunt his good luck and who has a heart and
a soul. We hope to see more of him in future, but even if we don’t, we like the
brief bits we get of him here. The
various kids who become finalists are types, but the types have been given
nuances that make them come off the page as individuals with their own
personalities and lives. They aren’t
cartoons, they’re real.
As far as the
plot goes, it’s not terrifically surprising.
We can guess the identity of the five finalists almost as soon as we
meet them. We can guess that Adam is
going to be super-special among the finalists even before he touches that
plasma globe and nearly blows it apart.
The choices he makes on the test are intriguing and we know that they
will serve him well when he ends up in the magical realm of Q’s making.
The
adventures here are a little flat—a ot of walking around a temple with lurking
snakes—but the writer does introduce an element of jeopardy with the Faceless Ones who are following the kids in
the city until they make their escape.
As with any
story where ordinary humans enter a magical realm—from the Chronicles of Narnia to Guy Gavriel Kay’s Fionavar Tapestry—there are certain conventions. The writer knows these tropes and plays with
them and delivers an altogether satisfying experience.
This book is
much more interesting than any number of similar books because it puts
everything together. The characters are
good. The backdrop is detailed and
plausible. The emotions are real. (There is HEART here.) the danger is real and scary. This book deserves to be more widely read. The closest thing out there is the Heroes.com/Villains.net series, which is
not as good and only really works when the protagonist is the author’s antihero
supervillain wannabe.
It’s tempting
to over-praise this book but it’s pretty praise-worthy for its characters
alone. If you’re looking for a new
author to read, check out this book.
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