The Prince of Mist -- Carlos Ruiz Zafón
Spain, 1943. Due to the war, Max Carver's father decides to move the family from the capital city to a small town by the sea. Almost immediately upon their arrival, Max feels a malevolent presence, one that he feels sure is connected not only to a past occupant of the house -- a young boy who drowned ten years ago -- but also to the mysterious and vaguely threatening circus statues in an abandoned park nearby.
Then, when a horrible accident draws his parents away from the household, Max and his older sister Alicia team up with their new friend Roland to try to solve the mystery of that presence, as well as to learn the history behind the machinations of The Prince of Mist.
Did you know that Carlos Ruiz Zafón started out writing YA? Yeah, me neither. But according to his Author's Note, he wrote (and published) four teen novels in Spain (as well as winning the Edebé Award) before hitting the American Literary Mainstream with the best-selling Shadow of the Wind. (Which, by the way, I own at least two copies of but still haven't gotten around to reading.) The Prince of Mist was his first book.
His prose has the rhythm of a storyteller's voice -- the book begins:
Max would never forget that faraway summer when, almost by chance, he discovered magic.
That line makes it sound as if Max will experience wonder and delight, but oh no no. It quickly becomes clear that the world of magic that Max will discover is anything but delightful. At first, the strange events that surround the Fleischmann house are merely eerie and creepily puzzling, but as he doggedly pursues the truth, Max is introduced to terror, pain, and loss.
Despite the rhythm of the writing -- and as I read, I really did hear a voice in my head narrating -- there occasionally were jarring moments that knocked me out of the story. At first, I assumed that it might have just been my issue, as that happens quite often to me with translations, but as I read, it occurred to me that it may also have been the narrator's habit of summing up a character's reaction/emotion into a succinct sentence, rather than allowing me to figure it out for myself by showing me their actions -- in such an atmospheric book, it brought the storyteller to the forefront, rather than the story he was telling.
I think that habit was a literary choice, though, and it was just one that didn't work for me, personally -- it never allowed me to feel anything for the characters. It never felt like condescension or laziness -- which, in other books, it very much does -- and, if you need more proof of the author's faith in his reader, he regularly (and rapidly) switches the narrator's focus without warning, and counts on the audience to keep up. Which I appreciated*.
The rest of the family makes their exit pretty quickly to allow for Max's adventure, but I did especially enjoy the descriptions/scenes of the family interacting:
Though she was only eight, the youngest of the Carvers had developed a crushing ability for undermining her father's enthusiasm.
Although I found the action sequence towards the end somewhat over-the-top and disconcerting -- especially considering the tone of what had preceded it -- overall, I found it an enjoyable read in the vein of Something Wicked This Way Comes and Needful Things. (Some people are definitely going to take issue with the THING that happens at the end, but for me, what happened was right -- START VAGUE SPOILER despite story after story that tells us otherwise, I really don't believe that it's all that possible to weasel out of a deal like that END VAGUE SPOILER.)
____________________________________
*Actually, there's a short interview at the book's Amazon page, in which, asked about the difference in writing for adults vs. YAs, he says:
I don't think there're that many differences, really. You just have to write the best possible story in the most efficient way you are capable of. It is all about the language, the style, the atmosphere, the characters, the plot, the images and textures… If anything, I believe that younger readers are even more demanding and sincere about their feelings about what they're reading, and you have to be honest, never condescending. I don't think younger readers are an ounce less smart than adult ones. I think they are able to understand anything intellectually but perhaps there're emotional elements that they have not experienced in their lives yet, although they will eventually. Because of this, I think it is important to include a perspective in the work that allows them to find an emotional core that they can relate to not just intellectually. Other than that, I think you should work as hard as you can for your audience, respect them and try to bring the best of your craft to the table. My own personal view is that there’s just good writing and bad writing. All other labels are, at least to me, irrelevant.
____________________________________
Book source: Library copy.