DIVERGENT // Discussion

WARNING: There will be spoilers. 

Rating: Five Stars—ajklsdflk (when words fail to describe how wonderful a book is)

At long last, after hinting about doing this for the past few months, I am finally beginning to discuss the DIVERGENT trilogy. Please hold the applause. 

While this was my fourth time reading DIVERGENT, I feel it’s important to talk about the first time I read this book. I read DIVERGENT in 2013, shortly after ALLEGIANT came out (though I didn’t get a chance to read INSURGENT and ALLEGIANT until late 2014). Now, in 2013 I was an avid reader, but most of the books I read had already been out for several years, so I wasn’t up to date with the popular trends in YA literature. 

When I first sat down to read DIVERGENT, I was in a bad mood. On top of that, I had to read the book on my sister’s iPad, and reading on that screen made my eyes hurt. But I really wanted to read it, because the cover was pretty (yes, I am a crow and I like shiny things), and the hype had made me curious. Also, sister-mine had liked it, and I trust her judgment. However, because I was feeling contrary, and because I had read a short review that said DIVERGENT wasn’t very good, I grumpily decided that, while I was going to read DIVERGENT, I was going to look for all the reasons I should hate it. 

*cracks knuckles* *whips out red pen* 

And, sure enough, I wasn’t hugely impressed by the writing in the first few chapters. Yep, I admit it. I see your eyes traveling up to the rating; I see you checking to see if you read it right the first time. Don’t worry, it says five stars. I’m getting there. 

Like I said, I didn’t think the first few chapters were well-written. I found some of the repetition of information annoying, I found the build-up to be slow, and I found a couple passages that seemed like info dumps. On top of that, the overall writing was a bit choppy. 

This warmed my evil little heart. In my first sitting, in which I had read thirty pages or so, I had successfully determined that it was a sub par book. (I will admit, I was also going through a stage where I felt very insecure in my writing. I hadn’t succeeded in finishing a workable rough draft yet, much less an edited novel, and I was desperate to see myself as a good writer. At this point in my life, that took the direction of putting down all published authors so I could feel better about myself. No, I am not proud of pre-November 2013 me.) 

I even spent a good half an hour talking to my mom about all the faults I had found in the first thirty pages, mistakes I would never make. *rolls eyes* I even considered DNFing it out of spite, even though, hello, it hadn’t done anything to hurt me and I was being a butt. 

But then, the next day, I read a couple more pages because I was still strangely drawn to the book. I didn’t get a chance to read much because we were driving to my cousins’ house (one of my favorite places on earth), and it was a four-hour trip. (I usually can’t read while riding in a car, especially not ebooks.) Instead, I had packed other books and had planned to focus on those over my vacation. But then THE ENTIRE DRIVE I could not stop thinking about DIVERGENT. I even pulled it out and made myself car sick trying, unsuccessfully, to read a few pages. The closer we got to my cousin’s house, the more excited I got to just hole up somewhere and eat that book. 

And here’s the part where my lack of experience with popular YA comes into play. Back then, I wasn’t as familiar with the popular tropes because I read a wide range of things, but mostly older books and classics and middle grade and adult. While my obsession with owning books in general started with getting a copy of THE HUNGER GAMES, my obsession with reading YA and owning YA started with DIVERGENT. 

There, I said it. You have it in writing. Clearly I am not a real reader. 

(Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I’ve seen such an attitude against people who get started reading because of THE HUNGER GAMES and TWILIGHT and DIVERGENT. But you know what, whatever gets you obsessed gets you obsessed. I was already a reader before, of course, but I wasn’t the same reader, and DIVERGENT changed that. I will give credit where credit is due, even if it means pretentious people judge me.) 

Moving on. 

I honestly did not know what faction Tris was going to choose. Looking back, I realize it should have been obvious. I’d even seen the previews for the movie, though I hadn’t paid close attention to them. But it shocked me when Tris dropped her blood on the coals. Blew my mind. And I like getting my mind blown. I hadn’t had my mind blown like that since the cliffhanger ending in CATCHING FIRE. 

To be completely honest, I predicted nothing in that book. Looking back, I laugh my head off because so many books are so predictable and I cherish the times when a book surprises me. I don’t think 2016 me would be surprised by many of the major events in DIVERGENT, simply because I have had much more experience. 

Here’s the thing though. I read that book so quickly. I ate it up and surprised myself in doing so because this was during a time when I had difficulty prioritizing and finishing books. I had a bad habit of starting a book, reading fifty or a hundred pages in one sitting, and then starting another book until I had seventeen or more going. And then I would get discouraged, shelve all the books, and start new ones. So the fact that I read DIVERGENT in roughly a week is saying something. I even braved the car sickness and finished it on the ride home. 

I felt everything, during a time when I wasn’t feeling much. The ferris wheel scene and the zipline scene made me feel alive. In fact, I fell in love with Dauntless as a faction because of those scenes. (Fun fact: Those scenes weren’t in the book when Veronica sold it. During revisions, her editor suggested she include scenes like those to remind the reader why Tris loves Dauntless enough to stay, which worked for me brilliantly. You can read more about it here.) 

As violent as it makes me sound, I loved the scene where Tris destroys Molly and the scene where Edward gets stabbed in the eye with a butterknife, because I loved what they say about Tris’ character and the people she’s up against. I fell in love with the enigma that is Four. I felt for Tris as I saw the damage that had been done by her faction in stressing one virtue (in this case, selflessness) to the exclusion of all others—because we require balance, which I realized as I saw Tris learning about the very virtue she had supposedly turned her back on by choosing a faction that favored another virtue (bravery). The pacing was killer. I never wanted to set it down. I kept thinking, “one more chapter, one more chapter” and I normally have a lot of self control when it comes to books. To this day I sometimes get distracted and set them down mid-sentence, even when I’m really absorbed. For me to get sucked in, to the exclusion of all else, is a miraculous feat. 

Having read it another three times since, I still see all the little faults. The sentence structure tends toward choppiness; the writing is a bit too spare for my taste and relies too heavily on passive tense; information sometimes gets repeated too much. Etc… I see where it would be probably a little predictable (though not in a bad way—it just wouldn’t blow my socks off now). If I had read this for the first time last month, I probably wouldn’t have been able to overlook these things as easily, maybe because I am pettier now, maybe just because I am far more familiar with YA as a whole and it's getting harder to wow me. But the fact that the story made me forget the issues I did see and love it despite its flaws speaks volumes. 

So here’s the thing. I feel this pressure to revise my rating, to deny my deep love for this book because it is popular to hate on it, at least in the circles that I have run against far too often. I am not saying that if you hate it, you are a bad person. Obviously you have good reasons for your negative opinion, just as I have good reasons for my positive opinion. I’m more addressing the slightly snobbish attitude that keeps popping up in reviews, the idea that those who love DIVERGENT have poor taste or are stupid. I’ve seen the same attitude, even more magnified, aimed at people who love TWILIGHT, almost like it’s some secret, bookish community test. “Oh, look at the n00b. You love TWILIGHT? You love DIVERGENT? Clearly you have no taste and don’t know this genre and are just pretending to be a reader. Those are probably the only book titles you know. Real readers don’t give books like DIVERGENT five stars. Blah blah blah.” 

A lot of these people are trolls, and their opinion shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t affect me. But sometimes it does anyway. 

Maybe you have not encountered these attitudes. Maybe you couldn’t care less. I know I care far too much about how other people see me, and that frustrates me. DIVERGENT managed to overcome my desire to hate it. It made me fall in love against my will. Yes, I see more of its faults now. But I am still the person who read that book, even if I have had more experience since. And I’m tired of trying to convince myself to see DIVERGENT as sub-quality literature because a bunch of people have tried to use peer pressure to change my positive experiences into negative ones. (Goodness, I sound paranoid here. I promise I’m not paranoid. Is that a camera?) 

In two weeks, I’m going to be talking about INSURGENT (and DIVERGENT a bit more), because I do want to spend time discussing the stories themselves. I just felt it was important to talk about this, because it was a phenomenal reading experience for me, and the idea that I will get judged for that makes me want to stick a butterknife in my eye (but, not my eye, if you know what I mean). 

So here is a list of things to keep in mind, for your sake as well as mine:  

You are allowed to love a book, no matter how hyped or over-hyped it might be. 

You are allowed to love a book, no matter how popular it might be to hate it. 

You are allowed to love a book, even if you also see its flaws. 

You are allowed to love a book, even if loving it makes you look like the new kid on the block. 

You are allowed to love a book, even if loving it makes more pretentious readers turn  up their noses at you. 

You are allowed to love the books you love, and you are not even required to give a good reason. Other people don’t get to determine whether or not your love for a book is valid. 

That is all. 

What about you, my little coffee beans? Have you read DIVERGENT? What were your thoughts about it? And if you’re curious about my short-term reviewing schedule, next Monday I will be reviewing MISERY by Stephen King, followed by more DIVERGENT discussion the Monday after that.

Dystopian Discussion: Part One

Disclaimer: I do not necessarily recommend every book I discuss.

I could be wrong, but it seems that when dystopian literature is mentioned, the first example that comes to mind for many people would be THE HUNGER GAMES by Suzanne Collins. Even almost seven years after its publication, I still find it stocked in the highly selective Walmart book sections. But there are so many other dystopian novels out there, the market has become flooded, and publishers are less willing to buy these works unless they stand out above the rest. Let’s face it—it’s a small subgenre with only a limited amount of room to breathe—even the most creative specimen is going to share traits with its fellows. So the goal, for writers, is to give their work a fresh twist that makes it unique.

 

 

In THE HUNGER GAMES, every year the government mandates that twenty-four kids (a boy and a girl from each of the twelve districts) must be forced to fight to death in an arena until one survivor remains. These Hunger Games are televised for all to see—both to entertain those in the free capitol, and to intimidate those who live in the oppressed districts (in order to prevent another uprising).

I have heard and seen many people speak of THE HUNGER GAMES as though it is the end all be all of dystopian literature. I agree that it is a remarkable piece, and I have read it multiple times. I’m desperately in love with the feel of it, especially the arena itself. However, staunch supporters of the HUNGER GAMES trilogy who claim that Veronica Roth borrowed from the series when she wrote DIVERGENT, INSURGENT, and ALLEGIANT, might want to pause and think before complaining too loudly. Because, unfortunately for Suzanne Collins, fans of Koushun Takami’s BATTLE ROYALE may have the same thing to say about THE HUNGER GAMES. And rightly so.

 

 

 

While BATTLE ROYALE is much gorier (and I’m going on summaries here, like this one, because I haven’t read the book yet), and while it is set in Japan rather than North America, the basic premises are shockingly similar. After all, BATTLE ROYALE centers around a bunch of school children forced to fight to the death in an arena—a fight that is eventually televised in order to intimidate those who might have considered rebelling. Sound familiar?

Now, Collins claims she had never heard of BATTLE ROYALE before she turned in her own story to the publishers, and I know that it is very easy to rip off another writer’s work without realizing it. After all, we’re swimming in a vat of idea stew, and there’s more than one chunk of potato floating in here with us, so let’s not hit each other over the head with our soup spoons until we find the facts. Personally, I have no opinion on whether Collins is being perfectly forthright or not, because it really isn’t any of my business, and I’m not sure we’ll ever know for certain either way. I’m only mentioning this because it annoys me when people call DIVERGENT a rip-off and act as if THE HUNGER GAMES is the last word in dystopian originality.

Speaking of DIVERGENT.

 

 

In the world of Veronica Roth’s DIVERGENT, we don’t have the Big Mean Government breathing down everyone’s necks. Instead, we have a system devised by flawed individuals in an attempt to fix the human race. By splitting society into five factions, each based on an important virtue, people believe they can maintain peace and harmony. Unfortunately, human nature has begun to exert itself.

What I like about DIVERGENT is that, while it’s based in a dystopian setting, that isn’t the main point. Boiled down, the story is really just about a girl trying to find her place and discover who she is. And I appreciate Roth’s originality in not succumbing to the Big Brother theme. While I enjoy novels that delve into the repercussions of a Socialistic construct, I dislike the tunnel vision of so limited a focus. There are hundreds of ways for us go wrong, and Socialism is only one of them.

Another set that came out around the same time as the DIVERGENT trilogy is the LEGEND trilogy by Marie Lu.

 

 

 

 

LEGEND centers around a boy accused of murder and the girl assigned to track him down. Both are horrendously smart, and both are on different sides of the law. Though I felt the LEGEND trilogy shared too many themes with some of its forebears regarding the construct of the government itself, I appreciated the whole LES MISERABLES vibe I got from the first book, as well as the inclusion of the plague (because I like stories that feature some sort of plague). Also, I expected the sequels to leap onto the “let’s take down the government” train that seems to wend its way through many dystopian novels (see what I did there?). But instead, Lu threw me when she took a different direction altogether (but I won’t tell you what happens because that would ruin the surprise). So, while I would only give that trilogy three stars over all for various reasons I won’t go into for lack of space, I wouldn’t say LEGEND was a cheap knock off.

But now let’s look at Lois Lowry’s THE GIVER and Ally Condie’s MATCHED.

 

 

 

In THE GIVER, we have a different sort of dystopian construct, one I find even more delightfully disturbing than the Roman-inspired gladiator-style fights of THE HUNGER GAMES and the Big Brother style government of LEGEND and the faction system of DIVERGENT. In the GIVER, the evil of tyranny is masked as kindness. In blatant dystopian governments, it’s all out there; you know, for the most part, who your enemy is. But at first the characters of THE GIVER don’t even know they have an enemy. In fact, from the outside looking in, this close-knit society could be viewed as a virtual paradise. Until you look closer, that is. Rather than rebellions and massacres, we’re dealing with things like euthanasia, emotional control, etc. While the higher ups are always watching, people don’t necessarily live in fear since they have been led to believe this is for their own good. (Also, they can’t see color, so now you know you HAVE to read the book. See, I can be very persuasive.)

Unfortunately, it would seem Ally Condie decided to paint a strikingly similar portrait when she wrote MATCHED. While the idea of arranged marriages as a way of life is interesting, it’s hardly original. Aside from the love-triangle, MATCHED uses multiple themes from THE GIVER, it would seem, including euthanasia and constant surveillance—not to mention, the bad guys appear nice, and the society looks the picture of perfection. (Too much happy!) There are other parallels, I realize, and other reasons why MATCHED didn’t feel fresh and exciting, but I’ll get into them later when I actually review the book.

 

So there you have it. I’ve covered the first five books/trilogies on my list, and next week I’ll discuss the next bunch (plus, if all goes well, I’d like to share a few more thoughts concerning dystopian literature in general). Also, just as a heads up, I can’t promise anything but I expect to be a little less busy starting in late July/early August, and I hope to write a bunch of book reviews during that time (my regular content won’t change; you’ll just get to read my yammering more often).

 

All book photos from Goodreads.

Divergent Writers

Warning:  While there aren’t any DIVERGENT spoilers in this post, if you’ve never read Veronica Roth’s book (or seen the movie), you may end up a little lost.

 

Some people find writing easy, like spreading butter over toast or falling down the staircase. Others struggle, as if they wake up every morning and decide to jab pins into their eyeballs (sorry, morbid) instead of doing normal things like drinking coffee, smelling flowers, and dressing in the car en route to work (by the way, I think that counts as a Dauntless activity). Like Tris and everyone else in DIVERGENT, I tend to group my fellow writers into factions—those who draft quickly, those who draft slowly, those who prefer roughing it, those who prefer editing, those who hate their work, those who embrace it, those who are creative and original, those who plagiarize Lord Byron when nobody’s looking, etc… However, as I get older and watch the world expand beyond my own narrow scope, I begin to recognize that these sorts of categorizations are just as limited as Abnegation, Amity, Candor, Dauntless, and Erudite. People are multi-dimensional and dynamic; no wonder I struggle even to label myself.

In order to stay sane as I write book after book (because I intend to be at this as long as I live), I need to recognize the importance of these—and other—factions. The importance of being Divergent. For instance, if I want my works to mean something to others, I have to be honest and open. As with the Candor, I need to be truthful, even when it hurts, and I need to be reasonable. If I write characters who are not accurate, with relationships that would never play out in real life, I am lying both to myself and to my readers. I am wasting our time. And I am not doing anyone any favors.

However, I also need to be gentle, kind, and palatable; my message should by no means overpower my story. After all, I am entertaining, not preaching a sermon or ranting on a soap box. That’s where Amity comes in. Sure, what I have to say may seem important—it may be important—but it’s useless to shove it down others’ throats. No one likes being forced to believe something, so if that’s my approach, I’d be better off growing flowers or tending crops. When I alienate my chosen audience, my words mean nothing. I am not in charge of everyone, so the best I can do is reason with people and write something worth their time, something that makes them think about small stuff and big stuff and medium stuff. Book after book after book.

Which brings me to Erudite. As a writer, I am a thinker. I read novels that broaden my mind, novels I agree with and novels I don’t. Either way, I expand my horizons by exposing myself to different thought processes. While I don’t have to accept everything others say, I still learn to understand people better and to see where they are coming from (and thus how to better reason with them). But leaving ideology behind, I love reading words and learning facts and crafting worlds. When I’m in the right mood, I could debate style for hours or dissect favorite pieces of literature or trade information on random topics. Like other Erudite, I find knowledge intoxicating so I push my brain to the limits. And sometimes all this writing and processing leaves me exhausted.

When I take breaks, I find myself at war with the Abnegation side of me. Softly yet insistently, it tells me that I am being lazy and selfish sitting around reading books and calling it “research”. Since I’m not doing anything for anyone, I’m accomplishing nothing. I should keep writing—at least that will benefit someone, hopefully. This is the part of me that also questions whether writing is a proper pursuit, or if it is merely self-indulgent nonsense. Is it a real job? Is it worthwhile? Everyone has something to say, and everyone clambers to be heard; why don’t I do the world a favor and just shut up so at least there will be one less voice adding to the ruckus? (Because, as we all know, Abnegation and Erudite don’t get along very well.)

And then there is the thrill-seeking side of me, the Dauntless bit that manifests itself from time to time. Stressful and grueling as it can be, writing pulls me. Sometimes it’s hard and scary, like jumping onto a moving train or climbing a Ferris wheel, but that’s part of the main attraction. If it were easy, it wouldn’t really be worth my time. Writing is dangerous; I craft my darlings lovingly and then send them out into the world, knowing full well that some people will rip them apart, some will misunderstand them, and others won’t ever hear of them. It takes that Dauntless side of me to keep going, even when the rewards seem nonexistent while the punishments stack up all around me. Because writing can be very punishing, and it definitely isn’t for the faint of heart. Not to mention, it takes the Dauntless side to use the Candor side—you have to be brave to be honest; you can’t separate the two.

Just as Tris learns in DIVERGENT, you can’t simply choose one faction as your own and deny the importance of the others. In order to be truly whole, in order to function properly, you have to embrace every virtue. And yeah, sometimes they will seem to be at war with each other, the way Abnegation and Erudite find themselves at odds, but that’s good too. It keeps us balanced.

So when it comes to writing, don’t be Factionless. Be peaceful and selfless and honest and brave and smart. Be Divergent.