In The Darkest
Minds, the first installment of The
Darkest Minds Trilogy, we are introduced to a world afflicted by the IAAN
disease, short for Idiopathic Adolescent Acute Neurodegeneration. Only affecting children in the early stages
of puberty, this disease results in the death of nearly every child in America. Those that manage to survivor find themselves
with one of five strange psychokinetic powers: hyper-intelligence (labeled a
Green), telekinesis (Blue), electrokinesis (Yellow), pyrokinesis (Red), and
mind control (Orange). Under the guise
of rehabilitation, all children who managed to survive IAAN, now labeled as
“psi,” are rounded up and placed into camps, where they are kept under strict
control and prevented from using their abilities. It’s on Ruby’s tenth birthday that she
inadvertently uses her new found abilities as an Orange and is soon taken to
one such camp. She manages to remain
undetected by masquerading as a Green for six years but is forced to flee with
the help of an anti-governmental group, The Children’s League. It isn’t long until she realizes they aren’t
what they seem and is on the run again, managing to escape with a small group
of renegade kids off in search of a safe haven for all those labeled as psi. But is the sanctuary everything it seems, or
is it merely a staging area for greater forces?
There’s no denying that this is an exciting YA trilogy. In today’s market dystopian fiction and
superpowers are an immensely popular combination that, if written well, are
sure to find a thrilled audience. Sadly,
The Darkest Minds doesn’t really hold
much under the surface. There’s a story
being told and the coming-of-age lessons that are trying to be told are clear,
but the manner in which both are delivered leaves a lot to be desired.
Before delving into some of its problems, I want to say I don’t think that this is an awful book. It’s well-written and, if you don’t think too much, the story is consistent within its own reality. Plus, some of the mutations/powers are fairly interesting. I can also see the appeal to a reader audience who want either a) some story to encompass a romance and are just interested in the struggle of those involved with said romance or b) a coming-of-age story that, though fictitious, has qualities relatable to the real world. In that regard, this story is better than a number of series on the market, thus far at least.
At the same time, this story does seem rather formulaic. There is a clear-cut bad person/organization. There is an opposing person/organization that seems good but, surprise, is actually just as bad. There is another person/organization that is less powerful but is, ultimately, good. Or is it? [Insert ominously foreboding soundtrack here] Then there is the main character who finds a small group of friends, all of whom just want to survive, free of the games of those who wish to use them as pawns or do them harm. Ultimately, through a progression of events, the main character(s) grow and realize they can’t just run from the fight but must throw themselves into the fray for the greater good.
In any good story there will be complex characters who undergo some development – at least to some small degree in a story that’s part of a series. That being the case no character should be perfect, much less start out perfect. That’s definitely not the case here, with a main character, Ruby, who is most definitely not perfect in a multitude of ways. While there is some character growth, at the end of this trilogy’s first installment, Ruby has only grown into a likeable character. This means that for the majority of the story, Ruby was altogether unbearable. Given the scenario (which I’ll get into in a moment) Ruby acting the way she does is believable. However, believable doesn’t mean good. It’s one thing to write a character who is believable and another thing entirely to write a believable character that people are actually interested in reading about, following, and cheering on.
The scenario for this world is difficult to swallow. Simply put, bad guys are bad because bad guys have to be bad. There isn’t a lot of legitimate reasoning behind why the villains are acting like villains other than the story needs an antagonistic force for the reader to be aware of. The reasoning behind the main conflict, locking up all the children because they are powerful (which goes into the whole ‘fearing what you don’t understand’), only makes sense if you don’t actually think about it. When all your country’s children are infected with something, locking them all up in prison camps without looking for a way to cure them seems like a good way to effectively set an expiration date on your country. Plus, too much of the story is a road trip. It’s interspersed by some moments of actions and exposition, but it’s too drawn out and makes it difficult to stay with the story without hoping for something else to happen already.
Now, maybe Ruby gets more complex and bearable in the following story. Maybe the villains become more complex. Maybe the reasoning becomes more apparent. I have strong doubts about that last point, but the first two are possible. However, there has to be a reason to want to read more and look for that explanation. A good assessment of something should encompass the whole of its part but, while I am curious, there’s no incentive that’s provided to actually keep the reader going. It’s out of sheer curiosity about why this series has the popularity it does that I’ll read the second novel, and nothing more.
As I said before, this story has merits when not examined too deeply, and I can see the appeal it might have to specific audiences (ones I personally don’t fall into). While I might not recommend this story as heartily as other YA series, this isn’t a book that I’d outright dissuade someone from reading. Fair warning though, don’t expect too much.
Rating: 2/5
Before delving into some of its problems, I want to say I don’t think that this is an awful book. It’s well-written and, if you don’t think too much, the story is consistent within its own reality. Plus, some of the mutations/powers are fairly interesting. I can also see the appeal to a reader audience who want either a) some story to encompass a romance and are just interested in the struggle of those involved with said romance or b) a coming-of-age story that, though fictitious, has qualities relatable to the real world. In that regard, this story is better than a number of series on the market, thus far at least.
At the same time, this story does seem rather formulaic. There is a clear-cut bad person/organization. There is an opposing person/organization that seems good but, surprise, is actually just as bad. There is another person/organization that is less powerful but is, ultimately, good. Or is it? [Insert ominously foreboding soundtrack here] Then there is the main character who finds a small group of friends, all of whom just want to survive, free of the games of those who wish to use them as pawns or do them harm. Ultimately, through a progression of events, the main character(s) grow and realize they can’t just run from the fight but must throw themselves into the fray for the greater good.
In any good story there will be complex characters who undergo some development – at least to some small degree in a story that’s part of a series. That being the case no character should be perfect, much less start out perfect. That’s definitely not the case here, with a main character, Ruby, who is most definitely not perfect in a multitude of ways. While there is some character growth, at the end of this trilogy’s first installment, Ruby has only grown into a likeable character. This means that for the majority of the story, Ruby was altogether unbearable. Given the scenario (which I’ll get into in a moment) Ruby acting the way she does is believable. However, believable doesn’t mean good. It’s one thing to write a character who is believable and another thing entirely to write a believable character that people are actually interested in reading about, following, and cheering on.
The scenario for this world is difficult to swallow. Simply put, bad guys are bad because bad guys have to be bad. There isn’t a lot of legitimate reasoning behind why the villains are acting like villains other than the story needs an antagonistic force for the reader to be aware of. The reasoning behind the main conflict, locking up all the children because they are powerful (which goes into the whole ‘fearing what you don’t understand’), only makes sense if you don’t actually think about it. When all your country’s children are infected with something, locking them all up in prison camps without looking for a way to cure them seems like a good way to effectively set an expiration date on your country. Plus, too much of the story is a road trip. It’s interspersed by some moments of actions and exposition, but it’s too drawn out and makes it difficult to stay with the story without hoping for something else to happen already.
Now, maybe Ruby gets more complex and bearable in the following story. Maybe the villains become more complex. Maybe the reasoning becomes more apparent. I have strong doubts about that last point, but the first two are possible. However, there has to be a reason to want to read more and look for that explanation. A good assessment of something should encompass the whole of its part but, while I am curious, there’s no incentive that’s provided to actually keep the reader going. It’s out of sheer curiosity about why this series has the popularity it does that I’ll read the second novel, and nothing more.
As I said before, this story has merits when not examined too deeply, and I can see the appeal it might have to specific audiences (ones I personally don’t fall into). While I might not recommend this story as heartily as other YA series, this isn’t a book that I’d outright dissuade someone from reading. Fair warning though, don’t expect too much.
Rating: 2/5