Black
— 2 stars
I quite like allegorical Christian fiction. I don't read much of it, but when I do I always enjoy it on some level. Sometimes things can get a bit out of hand, though, and I fear that that might be what has happened in Black, because if you'd ask me to sum up the book in one word, it'd be "silly".
Don't get me wrong, I liked quite a lot of the allegories in this book - Teeleh/Satan, Tanis/Adam and the lure of the forbidden water/fruit, especially - but others were simply bizarre. Elyon in the guise of a young boy was just weird, and the Great Romance thing was cheesy and boring.
As far as writing goes, Dekker seems to have a thing for pastels. I'm almost pleased that the book ended with the colored forest being destroyed, because after four hundred pages of reading about shimmering shades of blue and red and purple and pink, and juicy fruits that dribbled with juice, and golden this and topaz that, I was on the verge of stabbing myself in the eye with a spoon.
The strange thing is, Dekker's language isn't really flowery in that sense of the word - he spends a lot of time extolling the beauty of the colored forest, but when it comes to characters he doesn't really have much to say. The main characters aren't as flat as they are... nondescript. If you'd ask me to describe them and what makes them tick, I probably wouldn't be able to do it. I simply have no idea who these people really are (especially Valborg Svensson - I fear Dekker might be confusing Switzerland with Sweden, because that name sure ain't Swiss (not to mention that Valborg isn't even a male name)).
When it comes to Thomas Hunter, the main character... He's a smidgen Gary Stu, a dollop of idiot and a nugget of uninteresting. Most of these come about because he doesn't hesitate to tell people about his dreams of an alternative life in the Forest of Many Colors, where bats talk and no one wears shoes, and then demands that everyone take him seriously. He sounds like a nutcase, gets upset when people don't believe him (like a nutcase) and tries to convince them that he's telling the truth in ridiculous ways (like a nutcase). If I were a secondary character I wouldn't believe a word that came out of his mouth, and the fact that the characters in Black actually do is slightly disturbing and kind of a cop out, because they're being far too accommodating for me to take the plot seriously.
On the topic of Elyon/God, the "character" is such a disappointment. Elyon comes across as childish and insecure; like a fourteen year old girl clinging to her crush, Elyon latches on to Thomas and makes him promise not to leave. "Never leave me, Thomas. Tell me that you'll never leave me!" he says, and then tops it off with a chorus of "I love you I love you I love you" like some kind of desperate teenager. Even without the whole Fall of Man allegory, I wouldn't have been surprised that the colored forest got over run - Elyon is such a weak and helpless being that it was inevitable. Where's the righteous anger and just judgement? Where's the sovereign God in all of this?
Also, I'm kind of weirded out by the fact that the colored forest is supposedly post-Armageddon, yet evil still roams free (not to mention that man falls again). Had the dreams taken place in an alternative universe it wouldn't be a problem, but since it's implied that it's the same timeline... It's not a big thing, but it bugs me (just like the implied Monique/Hunter thing bugs me - it would have been okay if Monique looked like Rachelle or they were somehow connected, but since they're apparently not... It's a bit creepy, to be honest).
Still, this book is kind of a I-take-what-I-can-get kind of deal. As far as Christian fantasy goes, it's not too bad.
Red
— 3 stars
Red is a whole lot more interesting than its predecessor, Black. The allegories are better, as is the writing; the action is more engaging; and there are less rainbow colored forests and more blood thirsty desert bandits (always a plus).
First off, I have to admit that when I first read this book a few years ago I didn't quite pick up on the Justin/Christ parallels. Maybe I was distracted by other things, maybe the desert landscape made me expect Thomas to somehow be Moses (thus displacing events a good many years); either way, the "aha! moment" I experienced with Justin's death continues to be one of the greatest reader experiences I've ever had. It's not often I'm so completely blindsided by a plot twist and I have to take my hat off to Dekker for that one, even though reading through the book now again, several years later, I can't believe I didn't see it coming.
That said, the character of Justin leaves me scratching my head, because I'm looking for Christ like qualities and I just don't see many of them. Surely it would have been better if Justin hadn't been a warrior? Or if it'd been the Forest People (Jews) who'd been the driving force behind his death instead of the Scabs (gentiles)? And why is he morphing into a weepy little kid at random moments? And there's still the issue of Elyon's characterization (see above review of Black).
I enjoyed the fact that it seemed like the book's content favored the "future" world rather than the "current" one. Because virus outbreaks and politics in all their glory, nothing beats sword fighting and explosions. It also bothered me that all the world leaders seem to be completely incompetent and bewildered when faced with an international crisis; surely the brightest minds in the world would be able to come up with something - seriously, anything - better than relying on a twenty five year old barista who, frankly, is a bit of a fruitcake? If you question someone's judgement or experience and their response is to perform a series of karate moves (or worse, rip their shirt off to show you their scars (most awkward scene ever written, perhaps?)), then you should probably think twice about trusting that person with the fate of humanity as a whole. I'm just sayin'.
Still, I quite enjoyed the book in spite of (or perhaps because) all its shortcoming (because I'm always happiest when I have something to rant about).
White
— 1 star
To give an indication as to where this review is going: I read the first few chapters of this book, put it aside, and promptly forgot all about it for almost a week. It was a happy (but brief) period of blissful ignorance.
If Black is all about forest loving hippies who shun shoes, and Red is about epic sword battles in the desert, then White revolves around the epic romance of Thomas and Chelise. And by "epic" I actually mean "hot mess".
Because seriously, Dekker's attempt at writing a believable love story is the most out-of-the-blue, sloppily handled, cliché riddled, cringe worthy piece of romance I have ever read. It is very possible that it doesn't get any worse than this, folks.
It's not that the pairing is confusing and unbelievable; it's not that the characters insist on calling each other "my love" and speak like Shakespeare wrote their dialog; it's not that the Hero, in the face of their doomed love, likes to weep single tears of sorrow down a rugged cheek; it's not that their plot line reads like a rejected Disney film script with an all-mouse cast... Oh, no, actually - it is.
Never before have I cringed and facepalmed my way through so many pages. I didn't know you could get such bad second hand embarrassment from reading professionally published fiction. It's like Dekker, after "neatly" wrapping up his 21st century plot line, realized that he actually needed a resolution for the dream world too and, stumped, decided to use that Horde princess he briefly mentioned in a stray paragraph in Red (I do realize that the whole thing was most likely planned, but I prefer my version because I like giving Dekker the excuse of being the victim of time constraints and stress rather than simply being a downright awful writer. Because wow, Dekker. Wow...).
And it's not like one can ignore the Thomas/Chelise plot either, because as previously mentioned, that's pretty much all White is - an ode to their romance. The virus/nuke situation in the other word is downgraded to a subplot (and I use that word generously), because heaven knows that it's more interesting to read about two characters sitting in a library, crying over a book and making eyes at each other while trying to ignore the brimming UST.
The bad really did outweigh the good in this book. Dekker was cutting corners through the whole thing: using Johan to turn Carlos, like the flick of a switch, was such a cop out. The fact that Thomas blood was the key to it all was downright disappointing, because it was such an obvious solution that it was almost too obvious, and I was teetering on the brink of respecting Dekker for not taking the easy way out when, to my utter despair, he totally did.
The characters spend an unhealthy amount of time weeping, because apparently turning into pacifists means that they're now a bunch of pansies. Even Elyon/Justin can't help but desperately sob every time he appears, and by the end of the trilogy I didn't care if he was some sort of allegory for God - I wanted to punch Justin in the face because he was that obnoxious.
And what was up with the Elyon/God parallels anyway? Elyon gets a fair deal of screen time, and the characters are certainly acknowledging his existence, so I find it strange that it takes them three whole books to start connecting the dots between the Great Romance and Christianity (the MC was raised by a chaplain, for crying out loud!). And even when they do all agree that that's the way the land lays, no one seems to care about making peace with God. They're all about to most likely die in a few days, and they could care less about the salvation of their souls. Thomas witnessed Justin's sacrifice, which certainly moved him, and he claims to love Elyon above all else, and yet he never bothers picking up a Bible or researching the similarities between the two religions. This trilogy is supposed to be Christian fiction; I simply can't give this a pass.
Dekker also seems to get hung up on certain words or phrases and goes through long phases of using said words as often as he possibly can; in the first books everyone's eyes would twinkle and people would wink at each other all the time, and in White there seems to be a spitting epidemic; "he spit to the side", "she spit on the floor", "he spit before answering", "she looked away and spit". It's ridiculous.
That said, it wasn't all bad. Most of it was, but... I enjoyed the fact that the Horde couldn't read the Book of Histories, and the epilogue was kind of interesting. The fact that France was trying to take over the world never ceased to amuse me.
I was even planning on giving the book two whole stars, but then I got to the ending.
Thomas has spent most - if not all - of the books being somewhat of a Gary Stu. That's fine, I can live with that. But with the blood theme that's been a constant red thread throughout the books (Thomas' blood enabling dreaming, Justin's sacrifice turning the lakes red, etc. etc.) the ending seems downright inappropriate.
Thomas dying to save the world I can stomach, but the way it was worded, the things it implied: "his blood saved the world", "he gave his life for the world", "his sacrifice saved mankind"... Sound familiar? As a Christian, I balked at that; I don't appreciate it when the MC is turned into a Christ figure.
Overall, reading White was like pulling teeth, a disappointment which, looking back, has dampened my enjoyment of the trilogy as a whole. I reread the books because I hadn't written a review and I wanted to add one; from my first read through I remembered that the trilogy were pretty mediocre, but it was actually worse than I could ever recall.