(Originally reviewed in 2019.)
This book is a mess.
It’s a mess encased in one of the most beautifully designed and illustrated jackets in recent publishing memory, and perhaps that’s why the mess just can’t be redeemed. It is a cover that deserved a better story—that illustrated a better story, too. Because it sure doesn’t show what happened in this novel.
In the grand scheme of circus themed middle grade and YA, this is a little bit of Circus Mirandus for magic and loss, and a little bit of The Trilogy of Two for sheer bonkers world building. However, the execution of Smoke and Mirrors is unfathomably confusing. If you told me the author made everything up as she wrote and no one went back and actually edited, I would not only believe you, I would not expect anything else.
One major reason is that significant details of exposition, of world building, of place and setting and people, are constantly dropped in throughout the text as though we should already know them (the characters do). They are not shown, but told, and I had to keep turning back to make sure I hadn’t skimmed.
If you’re doing fantasy, as this book turned into, you have to establish perimeters and limits. If you’re writing a book at all, you have to lay some kind of groundwork for where we are in the world, and what we ought to expect. Things have to make sense, however stretched the link.
The key detail of the Lights (magical people drawn to the circus) and Smoke (bad curse from the scorned Magician) is just dropped into the text many chapters in. The concept of people “dying” (?) and turning into animals (?) when they leave the circus is also written like an afterthought. Like, wait, really? What? Is this literal? (I think it is?)
Most of this book is telling. During key moments of development (ie, when Sasha first starts going to school), we see part of it and then jump forward weeks at a time. At the end of one chapter I’m supposed to remember a nameless cowardly girl that Sasha likes, because weeks pass before the next chapter and suddenly a name is dropped and, oh, the nameless cowardly girl has a name? We didn’t even get to learn it with Sasha?
Another moment is when Sasha lies to her mom about having friends so that her mom will feel better. Chapters and chapters later, we find out that it’s the first lie she’s ever told and it’s been bothering her. Why wasn’t that information provided immediately, in order to give some weight to what she did? (In fact, quite a lot of information is dumped this way—paragraphs or chapters after the relevant incident.)
But the biggest problem I have with this book is the whiplash you get while reading it.
We begin with two kids who have been tutored by the people who live and work at this stationary tent show on a nameless island. As is tradition, when they’re a little older they go to the other side of the island to attend school. Just to give them some exposure and to make friends.
I should mention that the impression I get is that this circus, Cirque Magnifique (oh, boy, can we stop naming fictional circuses this way), has been on the island for a number of decades. Maybe a century or more. Remember this.
Sasha is the protagonist and she’s beginning fifth grade. That makes her about ten. She has a brother, Toddy, who is three years younger and does not speak to people outside of “the Cirque” and his eyes are filled with stars like uh magic, I guess. I think we’re supposed to see him as more capable and magical than Sasha or something, but he really comes off as an ordinary kid.
Anyway, from the jump—from the moment the adult bus driver (Mr. Orner, of all names) sees them, they’re bullied by everyone. Called freaks. Called dirty and ugly and filthy. IMMEDIATELY. Despite the fact that other Cirque kids attend the school and have been doing so for generations, Sasha and Toddy are bullied to extremes.
And I mean extremes.
If you dealt with severe bullying, this book might not be for you. I’m going to give details on two of the most horrific events, and, yeah, animal abuse is involved.
There are basically no redeeming people on the other side of the island. They all hate the circus. One day, as Sasha and Toddy are walking home from school, they encounter some groups of kids just messing around outside.
The girls ignore Sasha. The boys, it turns out, have thrown a rock at a kitten and hit it squarely in the eye, blinding it, and they’re still up for more animal abuse. When Toddy intervenes, the kids start THROWING ROCKS AT TODDY AND SASHA. The girls, the boys, all of the kids start THROWING ROCKS AT TODDY AND SASHA.
The kitten runs away and we don’t see it again for a while, but its eye is permanently injured.
In the next major incident, the lead bully chops off a chunk of Sasha’s hair during class and Sasha has a complete mental breakdown and starts cutting the rest of her hair off and throwing it at the bully, among other things, and all the teachers do is look sadly at her. Do they care she still has scissors and is harming herself? No. They send the bully to the principal but that’s it. He’s still awful despite this.
And none of these kids get their comeuppance. Ever.
And this rampant, vile bullying happens every time these kids go to school.
It comes off as bizarre and gratuitous. Worse still, as a reader, I don’t care about any of the people in this novel. No one has a strong personality. And making someone bullied is not a substitute for a personality.
So, to take us back to the beginning.
We, as readers, have been introduced to people like Mr. Ticklefar, the storytelling ringmaster who loves the lore of the Cirque; Aunt Chanteuse, who sings about everything and allegedly acts like an aunt to everyone; a small array of colorful performers living their happy lives and practicing their stunts.
Then we’re thrown into a big gray blob where kids throw stones at people and kittens and cut off people’s hair and not one of the adults cares enough to do anything except look sad. And this includes the adults at the Cirque, who are supposed to be (via telling in the text) so much less awful, so much more like a family. But really they don’t seem to notice injuries and Sasha’s depression and hatred of going to school.
At which point, Sasha wishes the Smoke would make her disappear so she could leave the show. And her parents are just like, oh, Sasha, how sad. Then both parents get in a terrible accident during the show that night, turn into birds (because of the Smoke?) and disappear.
At which point, Sasha and Toddy basically live alone in a cottage and Sasha almost starves to death, prompting a bunch of teachers at the school to decide to send Toddy away.
Nevermind the fact that no one from the state ever came to the circus or talked to the kids about what was happening at home. No, it was the school principal who decided to split the kids up because... their parents aren’t answering the phones. What?
It would sure be nice if this familial circus would take care of these kids better!
Actually, the lack of family and camaraderie between the circus folks is a huge issue. We’re supposed to see them all as a close-knit family, but they’re not. They all seem distant and cold to each other.
With the threat of Toddy being taken away, Sasha decides that the only thing to do is to defeat the evil Magician that put the curse of the Smoke on the circus (if evil Smoke and the curse of the Magician sounds surprising, it’s no better integrated into the novel). That way, her parents will be returned and everything will be okay.
So Mr. Ticklefar (names aren’t a strong point in this novel) gives Sasha a fancy seed and she plants it and a literal ship grows out of the ground, knocks over a water tower, and Sasha, Toddy, and the one-eyed kitten Pirate are now sailing off to the end of the world to find the Magician.
With about 30% of the book to go, this is now a swashbuckling Labyrinth-cum-Alice adventure. But without any of the tension or excitement.
They battle a giant crab king who appears out of nowhere (somehow Toddy, now speaking to anyone and sounding like a pirate, manages to hold off this giant beast until Sasha can read the instructions on how to load and fire a cannon—this sounds more comical than it is). They meet the sharp-beaked weasel that Mr. Ticklefar told a story about at the beginning of the novel (rather than a story of the Magician and the Lights or literally anything to ground us in the place and time of this novel). They ride on the back of a UNIMOOSE. Yes, a moose with a horn. They meet the Grandelion, a giant dandelion who doesn’t want them to cross into the Magician’s magical garden even though, logically, he shouldn’t care because the Magician didn’t want the Grandelion in his garden, anyway.
But, of course, they defeat the Grandelion because Toddy talks to him. Then they wander around the Magician’s weird house and there’s some kind of Southern Oracle moment with a mirror (but not), and Sasha defeats the Magician by suddenly becoming a Mirror of all the good memories she has and oh, everyone was a Light, anyway, not just special people, but really they’re Mirrors. Interesting it took generations to learn this. Also, I’m having a hard time summarizing this because it’s not a good narrative.
So this frees their parents, who are still birds, and Toddy and Sasha transform into birds? to fly back? And they teach the Cirque people about becoming Mirrors, and she decides to be nice to everyone at school to show them who’s better, and also the girl Sasha wanted to be friends with suddenly wanders over to the show and, surprise, her grandmother had been friends with the ringmaster.
Look, can we just address the biggest issue here?
There is no reason for the Islanders to hate the circus people.
This is established as a magical place. After generations, it should have seeped into their local lore and been something of awe and legend. This circus does not travel. They are not really outsiders on the island at all. They are an all-year-round establishment that has been sending their children to be taught by the Islanders for decades. Somehow, only people from the mainland see the show, three days a week, and yet the show is kept afloat. Shouldn’t the people on the mainland be the ones who despise and distrust the Islanders?
(I don’t know where this island is, but having been born and raised on an island in Puget Sound, which might be where this is, I have to say that people out there would love an in-house magical circus.)
I think we’re supposed to buy that the Islanders are outright hostile towards circus people because of the legend of the Magician having cursed the circus because failed love story. But the circus has been there for ages—have I said that enough? The curse does not spread. Not even all of the people on the show believe in it. And nothing happens until Sasha says she doesn’t want to be a part of the show anymore because of all the kids at school. (Which, fair. They’re basically demons.)
There’s just so much thrown in. And none of it carries any weight because of the feeling that the author just had an idea and added it to the pot without knowing what would happen, and no one decided to integrate the decisions into a different recipe. Many ingredients are useless. Others don’t make sense. None of them worked together.
Notice that I haven’t even spent a paragraph ranting about the inaccuracies with regard to the circus. Why? There’s no reason to! The circus is barely relevant and the story is so scattered that it’s not worth the extra energy. This isn’t a circus story. I don’t really know what this is.
Honestly. The beautiful jacket has betrayed me.
Yet I’m going to keep it and donate the book.