Readers who like plots that revolve around danger and destiny and who enjoyed the Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan will likely find Tera Lynn Childs’ trilogy riveting. The major difference in the two text sets is the genders of the protagonists and the prominent roles played by mythological monsters—like the manticore, harpies, or Gegenees giant, rather than just gods and goddesses.
The second book in Childs’ series, Sweet Shadows, which features Greer, Gretchen, and Grace—the Key Generation—tells the story of the shadow life of the triplet sisters and their mythological legacy. The diversity of the three girls represents a Pythagorean balance—appropriate for this trinity of descendents from Medusa. First, there’s high-heel wearing fashionista Greer, with her string of straight A’s, student government positions, and tea planning duties. She is perhaps most out of her element slaying monsters. Next, computer-literate Grace is a hard working but humble achiever who is afraid of appearing “more” than others, yet she adapts quickly to her new role. Finally, Gretchen serves as the triad’s leader. Her car Moira, angry energy, and aggressive demeanor match the fateful task the girls have inherited. Passive just isn’t in Gretchen’s personality.
Besides their destiny to hunt mythical monsters and to chase them out of the human world, the girls have their own monsters to confront: problem parents, social commitments, and boy troubles—with Nick presenting an especially delicate dilemma. Is he really a descendant of Themis, goddess of law and justice? What are his motives and where do his loyalties really lie? From the monster fighting trio, readers learn that much about adolescence is unfamiliar—those turbulent times when youth find themselves fighting to hide their fears, to keep up the cool, calm, and collected façade, to hold it all together, to attain some semblance of balance, control, or even perfection. We all hold ourselves to certain standards and struggle to meet those expectations.
The adventure-filled and monster-dominated book also shares some interesting pondering points for readers who find fascination in interrogating an author’s stance. Childs makes certain claims that prompt thinking, such as her implication that conviction makes one dangerous (60). Readers might ask: What features make conviction dangerous? Does describing something as dangerous necessarily make it bad? What evidence can you offer from your own experience that confirms or denies this “truth”? Argument literacy invites us to structure an argument so that it supports, not contradicts logic and reasoning. Inviting discussion on such points encourages readers to prove their arguments with valid reasoning, to confront issues using clear and reliable evidence.
The monster metaphor also provokes thought. That we marginalize monsters, that not everyone sees the same monsters, or that monsters are immortal in the human world are concepts with multiple meanings and possible implications. Much about the definition of monster and monster hunting, for instance, is itself complicated, with potential to incite an emotion-driven dispute. Consider how in contemporary society we often marginalize those we don’t see as wholly human—such as drug addicts, convicted criminals, or the mentally ill. Similarly, the idea that “those with greatest strength and darkest power are in control” (231) makes for good discussion as we look for evidence to validate the argument. For a more nearly perfect world, Childs argues for balance, as the ultimate goal—a equally laudable aspiration for addressing real world dilemmas.
- Posted by Donna