When I am home every summer, I try to reread my favorite childhood and teenage-hood books. The Fairest Beauty was actually the first Young Adult novel I ever read. Because of this, it has a very special place in my heart. However, I haven’t picked the book up since high school. Last summer I reread Red Queen and Matched which were other old favorites of mine. The nostalgia was torn out from underneath me. I didn’t want to have that happen with The Fairest Beauty so I decided to allow the happy memories I had with it stay just that. Memories.
Then the temptation got so strong, I finally couldn’t resist it anymore so I dusted my copy of The Fairest Beauty and opened it up.
Like with Red Queen and Matched I noticed my reading taste had changed. In high school, I didn’t mind if a story wasn’t super descriptive of the physical world the characters lived in. However, detailed physical descriptions are more or less how I write so I do appreciate other stories that go the extra mile to explain how the shadows of the outstretch tree branches fell over the leaf-carpeted forest floor. The Fairest Beauty minimally describes what the world around the characters look like. I would have appreciated a little more description, but I have a big imagination so I could still fill in the blanks on my own.
I recalled telling a friend that I thought certain plot points in The Fairest Beauty were awfully convenient. That was one of the many reasons I was afraid of picking this book up again. Those fears turned out to be unfounded. Those convenient plot points had foreshadowing that my naïve teenaged self either didn’t notice or forgot. That’s embarrassing.
I love The Fairest Beauty despite the blemishes in its plot and writing. It’s still a fairytale and it still has magic despite being historical fiction and not fantasy. It was like my childhood came back to life instead of being led to the gallows.
