The Alchemyst is Terrible

I started to write this post when I was seven pages into Michael Scott’s The Alchemyst. I set it aside and decided to wait, since seven pages seemed too hasty. A book needs to make a great first impression, but I’m willing to give a second. Or third. I’m a forgiving sort of lady when it comes to my teen fantasy, since series are long and the two of us might need to compromise a bit like any good couple. (We never do.)

I am on page thirty-six.

I am on page thirty-six, and I am in an abusive relationship. This book is beating me with its stupid.

As a reader of fantasy, I bring with me a certain set of expectations when I read a fantasy novel. Because of the fantastic element, I wholly believe that these stories should border on timeless. The mundane aspects ought to be kept generic to achieve this. A sentence like “she got into her 2001 silver Saturn and blasted the new Modest Mouse single Float On” makes the mundane entirely too specific and unless it’s completely relevant to the plot¹, I don’t want to hear it. Just tell me she got into her car.

Okay, yes, I know that “car” brings with it a specific time period. That time period is an eon compared to the span of weeks that “Float On” was considered new. Getting into a plain old car is something we can change easily with our imagination, updating the setting to fit our (futuristic) needs. She got into her hover-car? Bam. She got into her 2146 AstroCar Plus and blared- Yeah, my brain is tired already. I’m sure future-rock is terrible anyway.²

My point is, the more pop-culture references that get dropped, the harder it is to budge a story out of a specific date. And this is the way Michael Scott writes. I’ve already heard about iPods, earbuds, Bluetooth headsets (the ear doodads are ALWAYS specified), The Simpsons, Quake, Doom, and the male protagonist’s inability to navigate Myst.³ Michael Scott, I don’t care.

Am I supposed to care? Am I supposed to be fourteen and hugely impressed that these teen-aged twins have similar interests as myself? Assuming I’m a fourteen year-old reader of books (which I was, at one point), these kids have already been painted as non-readers, so I’ve already failed to connect. So, maybe this is to encourage the non-readers out there that books can be fun! They can involve non-readers just like you, out there playing football and video games and not reading. Wait, what?

To reign in my tangent: Pop culture kills. It’s distracting. Harry Potter mentioned the Playstation about halfway through the series and I’m still seeking counseling for that colossal mood-killer. This is a fantasy book – quit tying the fictional mundane to my real world. It isn’t cute. And also, stereotypical teen know-nothing airhead protagonists make me sad. But that’s a rant for another day.

More importantly, there is a gaping plot-hole at this point. It has been slightly acknowledged by our dear Nicholas Flamel (cleverly hiding behind the name ‘Nick Fleming’) so I really hope it’s tended to in the future. Like, in the next ten pages would be great.

The titular ‘Alchemyst’, Nick, has had in his possession a book for the last, oh, seven hundred years or so. This is where all of his secrets and spells and whatever-ma-jiggers are – you know, where the immortal life, disease-killing, youth-forever, awesome Philosopher Stone-type secrets are. And it’s finally been snagged by his big bad arch nemesis who has been after it for almost five-hundred years.

John Dee has been after the secret of immortality. For five hundred years. Yep.

…

There has to be a reason, right? Because I’m pretty sure he’s already figured out the hard parts. Is there a fantastic casserole recipe in the back? OH, and speaking of the back, our weeny teen boy managed to pull two pages out. They are, of course, the two most important pages in the entire book.⁴

Sigh.

I really hope this book gets its act together.

1. I think I just challenged myself. Now I have to write a novel where the big bad wizard is destroyed only by blaring “Float On”. I apologize.
2. You kids get off my space-lawn!
3. Has he never heard of Google? Come on, Michael Scott, don’t you want to drop that name too? Maybe give us even more irrelevant drivel about this kid?
4. They are not a casserole recipe.