Reviewed by Ambrea
Nicolette
is an inventor. As daughter to one of
the finest automaton creators in the empire, she has learned much about
engineering and mechanical repair. She’s
primed to follow in her mother’s footsteps; however, when her mother succumbs
to a terrifying disease and her father remarries only months later, Nicolette
finds her world turned upside-down. With
her father gone, she finds herself abandoned and alone, caught on the receiving
end of her stepmother’s frigid personality and her stepsisters’ vindictive ire.
Forced
to become a servant in her own home, Nicolette has spent years under her
stepmother’s thumb. But on her sixteenth
birthday, she discovers her mother’s hidden workshop deep in the cellar and she
begins to dream that she could create a life for herself—away from the dreaded
Steps (her dreaded stepfamily), away from the hardship and grime of her current
existence. As she prowls through her
mother’s workshop, she discovers books and tools she could only dream of
possessing and a strange, mechanical menagerie of miniature creatures, like
Jules, a tiny metal horse. With a grand
technological exposition looming on the horizon, Nicolette knows she finally
has a chance to escape and find the happily-ever-after about which she’s always
dreamed.
I
ended up reading Mechanica by Betsy
Cornwell in one sitting. For some reason
I can’t fathom, I couldn’t seem to put it down.
It was a novel story that managed to combine magic and Faerie kingdoms
with science-fiction and steampunk fantasy, while simultaneously tying together
threads of fairy tale narratives—namely, Cinderella—and
complex political and/or social conditions.
It was a fascinating story that appealed to me for the same reasons Cinder by Marissa Meyer appealed to me;
in fact, it was easy to see the parallels between them.
Mechanica
has man of the same characteristics as Cinder: a downtrodden heroine, a mechanical best
friend, a delicate political and social balance between disparate groups
(between the human race and the Lunars in Cinder;
between mankind of Esting and the magical citizenry of Faerie in Mechanica), an endearing human friend, a
handsome prince who conceals his identity to mingle with the rest of the
population, a mysterious disease. It has
more than a few similarities; it’s actually quite startling. I can see why some readers have managed to
toss it aside so easily.
However,
Mechanica has its own unique,
Cinderella-esque story. Like Cinder,
Nicolette is a strong and intelligent heroine.
She’s a builder, an inventor. She
doesn’t just repair automatons or her mother’s inventions, she makes them using her own ingenuity…and a
little magic. They share many of the
same qualities, but, at its core, Cinder is
a science-fiction novel. Mechanica, on the other hand, is filled
with fairy tales, tinged with elements of fantasy.
Now
that I’ve gotten those comparisons out of the way, I’d like to point out that Mechanica has its own unique story. As the book jacket promises, it’s a “richly
imagined…retelling” of Cinderella. I found I liked reading Nicolette’s
narrative, not only for the inventiveness of her elaborate, steam-fueled world
of cogs and glass and metal, but for the depth of her personality.
Nicolette
is incredibly introspective and thoughtful.
She’s a dreamer, an inventor, and she seems to have this intricate world
that stretches out in her mind, like a map, as she imagines new inventions,
sketches out blue prints, designs pieces and parts, frets over her plans—for
she does eventually have plans when she unearths her mother’s workshop—and
wonders at her new friends. At the same
time, she’s recognizes her own faults and accepts her mistakes.
She
knows she will make mistakes, she understands her own failings, because she
knows no one is perfect.
For
instance, after Nicolette meets Fin and Caro, she finds herself slowly falling
for Fin, the first boy who has shown an interest in her work and, more to the
point, has afforded her even the smallest bit of courtesy. She realizes it’s silly to daydream about a
boy she barely knows, but she does, because she likes to believe in fairy tales
and romance, just as, let’s face it, we all do from time to time:
“I
held whole conversations with him in my mind, telling him about the Steps’
inanity, or their coldness, or the transparent fawning of whatever beaux they
had entertained that day. I told him
about my work as I made it, explaining the movements and turnings…the delicate
clockwork that went into replicating Mother’s mechanical insects. I spoke more with my imagined Fin than I did
with the real Caro in our letters.
[…] Every once in a while, I
would remember that I could count my actual interactions with him on one of my
hands…”
Besides
which, I absolutely loved that Nicolette was so self-sufficient. Not only does she find a way to sell her
beautiful baubles and her incredible inventions, she uses her money to go to
the grand “Royal Exposition of Art and Science.” The ball at the beginning of the event is not
her goal; no, her true goal is to go the Expo and show off her inventions, gain
a patron, and open a shop of her own and leave the horrible Steps behind. She doesn’t have designs on the prince; in
fact, she doesn’t want the prince. She
wants to create a life for herself, out of the shadow of her so-called family.
Her
happily-ever-after doesn’t involve a crown; it involves a socket wrench and a
mechanical horse named Jules. Who needs
the heir apparent when you have a strong pair of hands, a sound mind, and a
noble steed to take you places?
Altogether,
I enjoyed Mechanica and, just because
it does resemble Cinder in many
respects, I don’t think it’s a novel to easily dismiss. While I felt a little ambivalent to the
conclusion of Mechanica (I would have
liked for a little more closure), it has a strong heroine, a good message, and,
I think, an interesting story to tell that’s rich with detail and magic. It’s a good start to a new series, and I’ll
be looking for more from Betsy Cornwell.
