Review: All The Feels

I was 15 when I read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. The ending knocked me sideways. I couldn’t believe Professor Snape was evil, all evidence to the contrary. I re-read the books in a frantic search for clues that he had at least a tiny spark of good in him. Then, since I had just discovered fanfiction, I relieved my feelings with a novel-length self-insert fic to redeem him. It was juvenile – even my mother said so. But it made me feel much better.

That being said, even I find Liv Walden’s campaign to revive her favorite character a little excessive.

In an article titled “The Death of the Author”, French academic Roland Barthes wrote that in the twentieth century, the field of literature criticism went through a fundamental shift: instead of the author, we put the audience at the centre. In other words, when a story is written – or, in the case of Liv’s favorite Starveil franchise, filmed – it isn’t set in stone. It takes place inside viewers’ minds as much as on the screen. As a fanfiction reader and video maker, she should understand that. Her beloved Captain Spartan is alive as long as she believes he is. Why sacrifice immense amounts of time and effort, fail a  college exam, alienate her mother, and force a tired actor back into an unwanted role, just to make her own opinion “canon”?

I kept wondering when author Danika Stone was going to address the elephant in the room. In the very first chapter, she mentions that Starveil is something Liv shared with her father before he died. Spartan’s death itself is a heroic sacrifice on behalf of a little girl. Liv leaves the cinema in tears, her eating and sleeping habits are disrupted, her mother worries, and her friends have to physically pull off the blanket under which she’s buried. She clearly has unresolved issues about her father’s death, and her drive to bring back Spartan is understandable in that light, but surely directing her grief from a real death onto a fictional one isn’t healthy. It sounds harsh, but I was almost hoping for the “Spartan Survived” movement to fail, if only so Liv could finally face what she’s been repressing. As for Liv’s mother, who blames fandom for Liv’s poor grades and reclusive habits (and she has a point), her last appearance involves a shouting match through a locked door. Why, after such a scene, Mrs. Walden would allow her daughter to fly to a comic convention across state borders – alone with a boy, no less – we will never know.

From a certain point of view, though, one could argue that she does face some of her problems. The campaign has its good side: it pushes the shy young girl out of her comfort zone, allows her to make friends with like-minded people, and teaches her to defend herself and her work in a public space. It also brings her into closer contact with Xander Hall, her best friend, with whom she shares a romantic tension thick enough to cut.

Xander is my favorite part of this novel. An aspiring actor and the star of Liv’s campaign videos, he dresses, speaks and behaves like a nobleman of the British Regency period. Like his idol Lord Byron, he is also bisexual. He calls Liv “dearest”, coaxes her out of the house when she’s depressed, does his level best to build up her fragile confidence, and happily sits through midnight Starveil showings although he doesn’t even like science fiction. He has a weakness for French fries and texting that is endearingly at odds with his 19^th-century persona. He also has what many people wouldn’t expect from an actor: humility. “A movie serves its fans, not the actors. (…) Their opinion is the only one that matters,” he tells Liv (e-book, ch. 11, p. 41). He’s the most unique and lovable romantic hero I’ve come across since … well, since Cyrano de Bergerac a week ago, but I’m sure even Xander would agree that no one can compete with Cyrano. Still, I would have liked to see a bit more equality in their relationship. Surely someone who lives his life in cosplay would have some issues of his own, and receive emotional support as well as give it? There is a brief scene involving his girlfriend Arden, but he shrugs that off within days.

By the way, it’s a relief to find a YA author who doesn’t demonize her heroine’s romantic rival. This one is a cheerful, outgoing person who cares about Liv almost as much as Xander does. It’s not Arden’s fault that she cannot fully understand either of them. The minor characters in general were very entertaining to read about, from the string of unsuitable men Liv goes on blind dates with, to her eco-crusading classmate Hank aka Granola, to her fellow fans at DragonCon, including Brian, whose specialty is standing day-long lineups, and Sarah, who communicates exclusively via text message.

In short, while Liv as a heroine is sympathetic, the fandom world quirky and fun, and the romance satisfying, the psychological aspects of the story were not as well developed as they could have been. For a more in-depth and authentic exploration of a geek girl’s coming of age, I recommend Fangirl by Eleanor Rowell.