REVIEW: Except the Queen

Jane Yolen and Midori Snyder
Except the Queen
Roc
ISBN-10: 0451462734
ISBN-13: 978-0451462732
Fantasy
February 2, 2010

Sisters Serena and Meteora were once proud members of the high court of the Fairy Queen- until they played a prank that angered her highness. Separated and banished to the mortal realm of Earth, they must find a way to survive in a strange world in which they have no power. But there is more to their new home than they first suspect…

A sympathetic Meteora bonds with a troubled young girl with an ornate tattoo on her neck. Meteora recognizes it as a magic symbol that will surely bring danger down on them all. Serena, meanwhile, takes in a tortured homeless boy whose mind is plagued by dark visions. The signs point to a rising power that threatens to tear asunder both fairy and human worlds.

And the sisters realize that perhaps the queen cast them from their homes not out of anger or spite- but because they were the only ones who could do what must be done…

*book provided by the publisher

Like many who probably saw Yolen’s name on the cover, I coveted this book due to blissful memories of a happy reading childhood. Yolen’s White Jenna books were some of my most influential in terms of what got me reading period, and what has me reading fantasy fiction today. I’d never read Snyder’s work, but in this case, if Yolen is confident enough to team up with her, I know I’ll enjoy her contributions just as much. For all that, Except the Queen was still a surprise. Sometimes a pleasant one, sometimes a…boring, tedious one, but thankfully it all settled somewhere in a for-the-most-part happy middle.

The book started off immensely engaging. The voice(s) used in this book have such a striking tone. It was very hard to resist them. So I didn’t. Chapter one is enticing, but chapter two starts us off with Meteora’s POV, one two fey sisters who are banished from their idealized life in Fairy to the harsh, iron-bound starkness of Earth. It’s through her and her sister Serena that the book shines. Eternally youthful, carefree and without any thought except fulfilling personal pleasures, the sisters spy a potentially dangerous scenario: the Queen has taken a human male lover. For some reason it’s looked over should a fey choose to dally with a human, except the Queen. Always except her. To punish the sisters, the Queen turns them into fat old women, cursed to live amongst humans.

Hey – welcome to my life! Except, you know, for the fey part. Just kidding!

I started this book on what seemed like a really great high. I was prepared to have my usual apathy toward another fairy storyline, but Yolen and Snyder incorporated such a grittier, dirtier and, well, realistic side to Fairy. It quite put me in mind of a favorite book I would sneak peaks of as a child – Brian Froud’s Faeries. An illustrated book of wonders, this may have been my absolute earliest in terms of reading influences, though it would be some years before my six to eight-ish year old self would actually begin to read books. Froud’s work is a lot like Except the Queen, but in gloriously detailed illustration form. There are faeries to enthrall with their beauty and sensuality, fairies to contemplate from a distance, fairies to fear, if indeed any of them were not to fear. Much, much like Except the Queen.

Somewhere along the way, though, I got a little bored, or maybe it was that apathy surfacing again, and I put the book down. A little over a month later, I was soaring with it once more. Once Meteora and Serena come into their own as humans and begin to grasp how their lives will now be, the story truly begins to unfurl in a masterfully done, character-strong story. With the sisters, that is.

I’m afraid I never really warmed up to Sparrow, who’s clearly meant to be as important as the sisters. But it’s the sister’s who we visit with the most, learning much about each personality when they discover the postal system and write letters back and forth to encourage and warn each other of possible dangers. Part of the queen’s curse forbids them from coming in physical contact, else suffer dire consequences. In their letters, we not only have the predecessor to whatever each chapter will be about, directly affected of course by the previous chapter’s happenings, we have a wonderful look into the strong relationship Meteora and Serena share. It’s very much a true bond of sisterhood, taking the good with the bad.

So, yes, Sparrow, a college age-ish girl who is so alone almost the entire book. She’s suffered a terrible, traumatic childhood and had been homeless until Baba Yaga – the mythological famed and terrible witch known for eating children – finds her and essentially takes her in, just as she does Meteora. Sparrow takes care of Baba Yaga’s finances by collecting rent payments and arranging for the like with new tenants. She works in a small bookstore and though she shares the middle floor apartment of Baba Yaga’s house with a roommate, Sparrow sticks to herself.

One day, she’s lured into a tattoo parlor, where an irresistible and enigmatic man tattoos her perfect skin, marking her with a terrible evil. Thanks to her own nature, and that of Baba Yaga, Sparrow is somewhat aware of the fey world, just not enough to have avoided the tattoo artist’s trap, one he’s sprung again and again with countless women to appease a deadly desire.

Meanwhile, Serena has a young problem of her own, a boy she finds lurking on her apartments steps, or her scare-bird as she calls him. Robin is his name, and he also comes into the story with a secretive nature, much like everyone else. Between the two of them and their letters, the sisters begin to see a thread being woven between them, Sparrow and Robin, plus a few other characters mentioned up to this point.

I never really felt much of anything for Sparrow or Robin, who are clearly meant to be as central to the story as the two sisters. The younger set, though, just didn’t feel nearly as developed. Perhaps if the sisters hadn’t had their letter correspondence, I’d feel differently, but then the book wouldn’t have been as good without it. Sparrow and Robin’s personal stories are both meant to be compelling, yet I still felt that they were lacking when compared to the sisters. This made the romance blossoming between Robin and Sparrow feel kind of forced. By that point, character development felt long abandoned when it came to them, as if this was all meant to be and falling into place. It may have fallen into place, but it didn’t feel as if it did so naturally.

What surprised me, then, was how much I did enjoy some secondary character contributions, such as the crow changelings Meteora finds in the park, who have been sent from Fairy to watch. To watch what tho…I won’t spoil that. I found myself growing quite fond of them, and they didn’t have near the important role that Robin did. Instead, Robin actually came off as rather selfish to me, but I soon found that it didn’t really matter to me when I couldn’t ever warm up to him or his plight.

The same can be said, in my opinion, of the plot surrounding the tattoo artist, Lankin (although I admit he did creep me out when it came to Sparrow), and the Red Cap sent to hunt for something, alarming the sisters greatly, as well as the whole idea of except the Queen. I can see why the book was named so – she is very much alone and subject to what we might think of in human terms as the most ridiculous double standards, but at the same time, like anyone who wasn’t one of the sisters, her parts felt apart from everything else to me, not as naturally occurring. Perhaps this was meant to be, to be separate and doubly show how alone she is. Still, I wasn’t sure if this was meant to draw sympathy or something similar from me. I really just felt apathetic about her situation.

The plot is interesting, but it didn’t take much to see what was coming. Unfortunately, the book does seem to drag on a tad more than necessary, making any twists feel flat upon arrival. That being said – the writing itself is gorgeous. It’s part of what sucked me in. It’s exquisite and intricate and lends itself well when creating the fey world the sisters came from, comparing it to the human world in such a stark, engrossing manner. I was fascinated by the sisters’ reactions, observations and eventual assimilation into the ways of humans, fond of the way this allowed them to grow and be genuinely humbled by what they’d taken for granted in Fairy. Normally writers have to beware of the middle sag in books, but Except the Queen excelled for this reader in that middle, coming to more of a sag at the end. I felt that end was a bit tedious due to seeing what was coming a mile away, as well as by what I felt was a sudden rush to wrap things up.

That being said, Except the Queen was still very much worth the read. It definitely fits my personal wish list for a grittier, earthier and more tactile faery world, as opposed to one that is lighter than air and hard to understand as a result. Yolen and Snyder seem to work very well together as a writing team and I would defintiely seek more should they work together again. I do recommend this title for fans of faery stories, and I think it can fit for YA-ers as well as adults, although some parents might want to be aware of some strong language used and a few adult-ish themes, though all are handled well within the context of the book.

Rating: Three and a half Scoops