Title: Cinder

Author: Marissa Meyer

Publisher: Feiwel and Friends

Copyright Date: 2012

Reading Level: ATOS 5.8

Interest Level (Age): 11-17

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Synopsis: The bustling, trash-ridden streets of New Beijing are Cinder Linh's home, though she doesn't feel like New Beijing sees her as family. As a sixteen-year-old cyborg, Cinder's freedom to live, explore, and be herself in the Commonwealth is a myth due to her cyborg status; and her step-mother, Adri, "kindly" reminds her of this fact each day. Forced to work as a local mechanic in the marketplace, Cinder counts down the days til she can save up enough money to finally leave her abusive family behind, and turn a new leaf. This all changes when a certain soon-to-be Commonwealth emperor, Prince Kaito, shows up with a run-down android in need of repair. With an android to fix, a newfound romantic spark, and an upcoming coronation ball to hopefully attend, Cinder's got her hands full. Little did Cinder know that there's a lot more to her than her metallic implants and cheeky personality, since she's actually a former Lunar turned hide-away Earthen. She may even be the long-lost Lunar princess that could change the course of history, and dethrone the oppressive Lunar empress, Queen Levana. But, she's just a cyborg nobody, right? She can't be a princess, let alone a Lunar princess. Cinder's life just got more complicated. 

Personal Reaction:

Marissa Meyer's Cinder (2012) was a fractured fairy-tale/science fiction delight, and went heavier on the science fiction portion. Though I normally don't read science fiction, what sold me on this book was the fractured fairy-tale aspects that didn't feel forced or out-of-place based on how well Meyer incorporated the aspects. From the very first moment where Cinder is sitting at her booth and pondering her surroundings, I felt a connection to her. What further established this connection was when Cinder explained her status as a cyborg in the Commonwealth, and how it meant she was lesser than others for her existence. Though it may not have been intentional, I felt that this was LGBT+ subtext and it connected with me on an emotional level. Something that was completely out of Cinder's control (her cybernetic enhancements) caused her to be judged by her country, and I've felt that same judgement for my sexuality (even as an adult). I think that the cyborg discrimination may also have been a comment on how racial and ethnic minority teenagers are treated, and how they react to this treatment. It kind of sickened me how internalized Cinder's discrimination was so early on into the story, but it made sense narratively to establish her societal faults early on and save the audience the backlash. 

Along the subtext notion again, I was bummed that Cinder felt the need to hide her outward cyborg characteristics because it reminded me of how life was before LGBT+ civil rights were as clear of an item in popular media as they are now. I too felt the need to hide who I was and put on the metaphorical leather glove to cover myself up, just as Cinder did. Looking back at the shame and disgust that Cinder felt throughout the story also reminded me of how privileged I am with my ability to dress, speak and act how I want. I can only imagine how imprisoned teenagers feel, LGBT+ or not, when the society they inhabit rejects or frowns upon them unless they exist in a certain way. This imprisonment feeling was shown to me as well when Cinder explained that Adri legally owned her, since she wasn't human. To tell that my blood boiled was an understatement here. I couldn't help but wonder why and how this fictional society came to the understanding that cybernetic enhancements meant you weren't human anymore. Then the thought came to my mind that this is the exact logic that so many societies use in the real world to function. I thought at this point that this was a clever way to highlight the issue of discrimination. 

It was said that Cinder was jealous of her step-sisters, with their combined agency or freedom to dress, speak, and act how they pleased. I completely understood this feeling. Like most teenagers, Cinder wanted to fit in and live a normal life. Her step-sisters had that and all that Cinder could do was sit from the sidelines and passively ogle. This got me thinking about how teenagers crave the sense of belonging, even when their craving is knowingly unrealistic. Despite her jealousy, it made me happy that Cinder had a closer relationship to one of her step-sisters, Peony. Not every step-sibling is awful, and I'm glad that Meyer highlighted that fact. So it shouldn't be surprising that I was sad when I learned that Peony was diagnosed with letumosis (a Lunar disease akin to the bubonic plague). The only other light that Cinder had, aside from Iko, was doomed. Despite this tragedy, Cinder remained hopeful and determined to leave New Beijing and start fresh. This determination was awe inspiring and I silently cheered Cinder on as the chapters passed.

So, imagine the shocked face I had when Adri had Cinder sent away for letumosis testing to pay for Peony's funerary arrangements. I couldn't believe that someone could be so cruel to another person. It got me thinking about how victims of abusive parents are often forced to do things that endanger them and their health, and I can appreciate the approach that Meyer took to describe Cinder's disapproval and rebellion. I will say that the medical testing readings were difficult to stomach as someone who imagines things vividly and I could feel the needles that Cinder endured. I feel like these sections could have been a little less detailed due to their mildly graphic nature, but this is just personal preference since I have a phobia of needles in my arms. I also want to mention the fact that Cinder remembered her childhood body trauma happening to her in real time was difficult to read as well. I've always struggled with body dysmorphic content (hence why I stray away from science fiction normally), even if the content is mild. I appreciated that Meyer didn't go into great detail for these scenes, but it did make my imagination run into wild and scary territory. 

Having read that she endured horrible trauma, I felt that Cinder was remarkable due to her psychological and physical resilience. She lived through horrible dysmorphic experiences, invasive procedures, and mental abuse, and living to tell the tale. If that isn't a hero, then I don't know what is. The fact that she survived and still pushed on towards her goal is inspiration enough for someone like me. So you can imagine my surprise when Dr. Erland tells Cinder that she is immune to letumosis and is Lunar. Suddenly her experiences weren't adding up and her understanding of her traumatic childhood had to shift. Cinder showed great character development here because any person in their right mind would be hesitant to accept the truth, including me. I can say that if I was Cinder, I would also be hesitant to believe some random doctor I've met once or twice. 

Through the rest of the story, Cinder was conflicted and I could not blaim her. She felt called to a greater purpose for herself by escaping New Beijing, but also called to helping others of New Beijing. She was called to be with Kai(to) but also called to remember that she's a cyborg, a citizen, a nobody. I've felt this same confliction growing up, and I still feel this conflict to this day. Alongside her confliction was the persistent feeling of guilt for wanting more for herself. I can also relate to this feeling of guilt. My own experiences have led me to taking care of my parents throughout college, and I also feel twinges of guilt when I think about leaving and having my own life. Teenagers, like Cinder, who are thrusted into roles of responsibility must tango with their growing desire for freedom as well as their guilt. So, it should come as no surprise that Cinder felt guilty for wanting nice things to happen to her, despite her circumstance. 

After Cinder threw caution to the wind and warned Kai about his impending demise at the hands of the lunar queen, I wasn't surprised by her getting captured in the end. I was surprised however, at Dr. Erland's helping Cinder. It was a different ending than I expected, but a welcome one. It reminded me that not all fairy-tales have to end in happily ever afters, just like how life doesn't. The ending also brought me to an intellectual catharsis because, despite the circumstances leading to the ending, Cinder got exactly what she wanted. She had a fresh start and she was now free, but that freedom came at a cost. I think that this was a fabulous way to explore the facade of the rite of passage. The future was now in Cinder's hands and she could do whatever she saw fit because she held all the cards. That ending was true to life and I can appreciate it in a young-adult fiction novel, since it actually models how big the divide between adolescence and adulthood actually is (tiny). All it took was one tiny leap, and I think that Meyer did an excellent job illustrating the gravity of this leap.

Awards Won: Best Fiction for Young Adults (Selection, 2013), Indies Choice Book Awards (Honor, 2013), Publishers Weekly Best Books (Fiction Selection, 2012), YALSA Teens' Top Ten (Winner, 2012)

Award Worthiness: Meyer's work definitely deserves the awards it received due to its creative retelling of the classic fairytale narrative. The story wasn't overtly fantasy-centric and it did a great job exploring the scientific notions in a believable way. Do I think it should receive more awards? Probably not. Though the story is fleshed out and Meyer's figurative language is mentally stimulating, I don't think that it's ultimately transformative or overly impactful much like the fairy-tale it is derived from. 

Recommendation: I recommend this book as a literary toe-dip for adolescents and adults who are interested in low universe science fiction with a fantasy twist. The narrative itself makes approaching science fiction, a genre historically known for its barriers, more approachable due to its familiar origin story. Though the ATOS reading level for Cinder (2012) is around 5.8 (10 to 11/12 years old), I do recommend that pre-teens and teenagers around the ages of 12 to 17 read this book due mainly to Cinder's interests and the depicted physical violence. Adults are also recommended to give this book a read through to gain a greater understanding of themes like teenage LGBT+ subtext, discrimination, agency, identity, and oppression.

I base my recommendation on the overt quality of Meyer's novel, which I deem as nominal. I provide this qualifier due to the fact that Meyer's writing style is well-structured and does not stray or jumble throughout the novel. Meyer also artfully utilizes perspective shifts between Kaito and Cinder to illustrate the gravity of the story's conflict and greatly flesh out the original frame story. These perspective shifts, in a way, highlight the evolution of Cinder's, as well as Kaito's, problems from those of a teenager to an adult; much like the rite of passage that all teenagers face at one point or another. As for the characters, Meyer draws on the origin fairy-tale's characters and fleshes them out with convincing motivations, concerns, and traits. Cinder(ella) and the Prince are more than just shells without characterization, as they both endure sorrow, exude sarcasm, and emotionally evolve when faced with conflict. The story's setting also contributes to its quality since its locale, New Beijing, highlights futuristic perspectives on classic issues. Having the setting be in the future and in China's capital city, known for its vibrant history and traditionalist perspectives, adds to the conflict's grandeur and highlights the character divide between the Prince and Cinder based on economic standing and locale. As for the plot, it is tangible and maintains the suspension of disbelief. The plot mimics yet derives from the origin story in creative ways like introducing the letumosis plague and the political tension with Lunars. Ultimately, the story leads to the prevailing themes of living without guilt, accepting one's self, and controlling one's future; all themes that Meyer orchestrates well in her cybernetic "princess" novel. As such, the value of this novel is in it's ability to touch on heavy subjects like physical abuse, discrimination, and identity through the colorful optic of not a cyborg, but a girl just like me.

Possible Discussion Topics:

1) Do you think that young-adult novels should illustrate racial and ethnic discrimination? Why or why not?

2) Should Cinder have left New Beijing instead of staying to warn Prince Kaito? How do you think this would affect the ending?

3) What do you think matters more to teenagers: fitting-in OR standing-out?