"Divergent", Veronica Roth

I think I'll cross-post all my reviews to goodreads. It's a very useful site. (And I hope everyone has learned not to trust my promises of prolific output.)

===============================================

Honestly, I went into Veronica Roth’s Divergent with high hopes.

That was probably a mistake. The way post-apocalyptic teen novels are now a dime a dozen after the success of The Hunger Games—the same way bookstores sprouted entire “supernatural romance” sections following the success of Twilight—should’ve tipped me off.

But that cover art is just so damn snazzy. Moreover, the premise of the book is a thing of beauty.

Society in decaying Chicago is divided into five factions: The selfless, the wise, the brave, the loving and the honest. Children choose which faction they will belong to at the age of 16, and the faction they choose shapes them physically and mentally for the rest of their life.

Our hero Tris is “Divergent,” meaning she does not fit cleanly into any one faction.

This is a fantastic concept. Everyone in the known world subscribing to one of five preset—and often conflicting—mindsets? One person who is non-conformist simply by virtue of their existence? Brilliant. The idea is ripe with the promise of rebellion against both society and the compartmentalization of humanity. There is an epic tale here that needs only an oppressive and antagonistic society to take flight.

Unfortunately, Roth takes the story in a far more awkward direction. She writes the central conflict of the narrative not as a battle against the system, but as a battle inside it. The conflict stems from the perversion of a functioning system, rather than from an inherent wrongness in the system.

This was a mistake. The reason so many dystopian novels focus on battles against society is that the society needs only minimal characterization and development to make it a menacing foe, leaving the author free to focus on other aspects of the story. Indeed, The Hunger Games was successful partly because it went above and beyond the societal development necessary for the plot without compromising any other facet of the story.

However, when the battle is within society, the reader needs a fuller and deeper understanding of the setting to drive home the impact of the conflict. Roth does not provide that understanding. Though she doesn’t necessarily fail at world-building, she most certainly does not provide enough.

Each of the factions—save the faction Tris enters—receives a rough sketch of a description, a facsimile based upon the most readily identifiable traits of each mindset. Given that the factions are the entire focus of the book, this is insufficient for the type of story Roth is trying to tell.

Additionally, glimpses the reader receives of life inside the different factions seem to indicate that characters do not lop off 4/5 of themselves when they choose a faction. They remain fairly well-rounded human beings, and as such, the concept of someone like Tris, who exists outside faction designations, falls entirely flat. The idea would be much more powerful if Divergence contradicted a force such as brainwashing or indoctrination, rather than a weak societal norm. Its inclusion in the plot feels almost pointless, save to facilitate the tacked-on ending.

That said, Tris is something not often seen in female teen protagonists: Cold and ruthless. She breaks both bones and the genre mold with delightful ease. While I can’t say much for Roth’s plotting, I would absolutely love to see more of Tris. Her character design is a diamond in the rough.

The force of her personality—the book is in first person—glues the events of the narrative together into an engaging package. Save for the ending. Nothing could help the clichéd, kill-half-the-cast-for-drama ending, though it did admirably set the scene for the sequel.

Anyway, as long you don’t read too deeply or think too hard, you’ll enjoy this book. The high adrenaline quotient makes it very readable, if not particularly well-plotted.

Rating: 2.85/5