Cinderella is Dead - Review

Cinderella is Dead is the debut novel from African American author Kalynn Bayron. Bloomsbury YA brought the rights to it in 2019, as part of a two-book contract which was recently extended to five books. Since it was published last year, Cinderella Is Dead has been critically acclaimed and nominated for several literary awards, with online book retailers Wordery declaring it their Children’s Book of The Year for 2020.

What’s It About?

Sophia Grimmins lives in the kingdom of Mersailles, which is ruled over by the tyrannical King Manford. King Manford is descended from the Prince Charming from the legendary fairy tale Cinderella, and every year, all 16-year-old girls are forced to attend a version of Cinderella’s royal ball, where they have to be chosen by a man or face the dreaded “forfeit”. During her first appearance at the ball, Sophia runs away and meets Constance, a feisty warrior descended from one of Cinderella’s stepsisters. When Sophia finds one of her friends dead in mysterious circumstances after being humiliated at the ball, Constance reveals the horrifying truth behind the “palace-approved” narrative of Cinderella, inspiring to take a stand against the ruling regime. In their mission to put an end to King Manford’s reign of terror once and for all, Sophia and Constance must team up with the sinister Amina - the witch who served as Cinderella’s “Fairy Godmother”. Could her magic hold the key to defeating King Manford?

Review

(Warning: This Review Contains Spoilers)

Reinventions of classic fairytales are one of the most popular YA fantasy subgenres for good reason. These stories have been popular for hundreds of years, but their problematic and regressive elements need to be challenged, deconstructed and amended for modern sensibilities. However, you can only read about so many rebellious princesses and misunderstood witches before the subversion feels like the norm and loses its iconoclastic appeal. Despite the overcrowded fields, it is still possible for a story in the YA fantasy genre to stand out, and Cinderella Is Dead is one of the most impressive new fairytale novels of the last year, living up to the possibilities of its premise to bring something new and innovative to the field.

The core idea behind Cinderella Is Dead -a tyrant weaponizes the Cinderella story to keep his people under control - is ingenious, exaggerating our obsession with the classic tale to disturbing levels. Mersailles has many of the features of a conventional patriarchal dystopia – there are portraits of the ruler in every home, women are banned from pretty much every activity and subject to relentless curfews “for their safety”, men are allowed to abuse their wives with impunity, and anybody who defies the system faces the prospect of losing their head on the executioner’s block. However, the Cinderella theme allows Mersailles to attain its own grotesque personality. The “palace-approved” version of Cinderella has become the defining text of the kingdom, with everyone forced to own a copy, and interactive retellings are performed in the town square. The centrepiece of Mersailles’ calendar is the annual ball, with girls buying “potions” and magic wands associated with The Fairy Godmother to improve their chances. They need this because any girl who fails to get a match within three years ends up becoming “forfeit” and getting “sent away”, never to be seen again. The forfeit system is frequently exploited by King Manford’s supporters, who have a nasty habit of selling their wives (or even worse) in order to procure a new girl at the annual ball. Bayron takes advantage of almost every unique feature of the simplistic Cinderella story, and uses them to make her dystopian world feel all the more effective.

Bayron’s uses Mersailes to satirize the way traditional Cinderella stories can uphold dated gender stereotypes, and there is quite a bit of truth to her argument that they have helped validate some rather reactionary viewpoints. The Charles Perrault version ended with messages about the value of being “gracious” and needing a “fairy godmother” to attain success, whilst the Brothers Grimm version was part of a nationalistic project that promoted a very stereotypical view of the “ideal” German woman. The “palace-approved” version of the Cinderella story seems to borrow more from the latter – the nastier approach of the Brothers Grimm makes it a lot easier to deter girls from not following Cinderella’s example. There is even room for a jab at Disney, as Sophia makes a “Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo” joke at one point. Given Disney’s annoying habit of dominating our cultural understanding of these stories, and the billions of dollars they have made through Cinderella-themed merchandise over the years (a process which was sent into overdrive with the invention of the Disney Princesses brand) it is not hard to read all the depictions of Cinderella- related lucky charms as poking fun at them in particular, but the stereotypes embodied by the Cinderella story go far beyond Disney’s 1950 version. The misuse of the Cinderella myth in Cinderella is Dead has some disturbing real-life parallels as well. For instance, it reminds us of the way that numerous unsavory aspects of a nation’s history can be swept under the rug in favor of grand romantic narratives (Think of how the horrifying story of Slavery in America’s Confederate states has been obscured by lavish “Antebellum” melodramas such as Gone with The Wind) and invokes images of those religious theocracies who take every word of the Bible as law. Seeing the story of Cinderella elevated to extreme levels of power and influence highlights how ludicrous it is to give a sacred status to fairytales whilst also acknowledging the effect they already have on impressionable readers. Cinderella is Dead also acknowledges that other fairytales can shape our view of social values - We also get references to the reality behind Snow White, and Constance mentions an international story collection featuring a wider variety of fairytales. Although Cinderella Is Dead seems to be an entirely self-contained story, there could be a lot of potential in giving other classic stories the same subversive treatment. However, Cinderella’s status as the ultimate tale about a girl who gets everything just be being patient and pretty is far easier to deconstruct, and this is what gives Cinderella is Dead so much of its bite.

Cinderella is Dead can be compared to Jennifer Donnelly’s 2019 YA novel Stepsister, with its upending of the Cinderella formula and forceful feminist messages. However, it goes much, much, much further, and is all the better for it. The “wicked” stepmother and stepsisters were actually helping Cinderella to establish a resistance movement. The “Fairy Godmother” is a scheming, cynical witch. Our ruling prince is not the usual affable love interest, but an outright monster. For all the fantastical twists and turns later on in the story, none of them can really be as shocking as the reveal of the true reality behind the tale of Cinderella. One weakness with Stepsister was the sense that its messages could distract from the story at points, but Cinderella is Dead mostly avoids this mistake, as the decision to tell the story from Sophia’s perspective means that all the criticisms of a patriarchal world feels more organically integrated into the tale. However, despite all the radical subversion, Bayron keeps many of the traditional pieces of the Cinderella tale. The climax involves a magical tree, a ballroom dance between protagonist and prince, and a magical transformation which will wear off at the stroke of midnight. During their first meeting, Constance tells Sophia: “All fairytales have some grain of truth. Picking apart that truth from the lies can be tricky though “, and this sums up Bayron’s approach to the Cinderella story. Despite all the subversion of the source material, there is a level of genuine affection for it – the heroine is surnamed Grimmins for a pretty good reason…

Cinderella Is Dead could have easily slid into lurid or campy territory, but Kalynn Bayron manages to keep the story grounded. The controlled sadism of King Manford, and the casual cruelty of his supporters, of feels realistic enough to genuinely hurt, and Sophia’s anger over the numerous awful elements of her kingdom is entirely justified. The rot of the system is not just embodied by the day-to-day acts of violence and constant stream of missing wives and children, but by the pervasive sense of fear that infects daily life in Mersailes and leaves people believing they have no other option but to conform. However, Cinderella is Dead contains its share of humour, from Sophia’s cynical comments on the macho imagery of Prince Charming’s dynasty (“I bet he’s never led an army anywhere except across the squares of a chessboard”), to Amina’s blunt revelation of the unsavoury ingredients of the magic potions almost every young woman in Mersailes drinks. There are also some jokes pointing out the issues with the stereotypical Cinderella story (“What kind of person would have a child and name it Charming?”), although this is common in edgier revisions of Cinderella. In the second half of Cinderella is Dead, the mundane horror of the opening is steadily replaced by a supernatural horror, as Amina demonstrates some disturbing magic powers, and we find out the true secret behind Prince Charming’s dynasty. The addition of these fantasy elements feels like an effective extension, a payoff worth all the elaborate set-up. Cinderella is Dead works pretty well as a mystery, with all the horrifying reveals being properly foreshadowed and often hidden in plain sight, their true significance not made clear until near the end. There are plenty of mediocre to terrible writers who can come up with a brilliant premise, but Kalynn Bayron demonstrates throughout her novel that she has the talent to back up her audacity.

Another major selling point for Cinderella is Dead is its handling of LGBTQ+ protagonists. Sophia is lesbian, and her preference for a female partner is a major motivation for her desire to escape the ball. After ditching the constricting corsets and gigantic ballgowns she was forced to wear at the ball, she spends several scenes in male clothing, and unsurprisingly finds this far more enjoyable. Sophia’s friend Luke (Probably the only sympathetic male character to make an impact) is gay, and this makes him more empathetic towards Sophia’s anxieties than other people in Mersailles. Sophia’s sexuality is a major driving force her mission to change Mersailles for the better, and this ultimately matters more than the particulars of her relationship with Constance. Bayron also provides excellent representation for people of color. Mersailles seems to be a stereotypically European kingdom with cobbled streets, thick forests and snowy winters, but many of the key characters (including Sophia, Luke, Amina and King Manford) are identified as having “tawny”, “brown” or “sepia” colored skin. Bayron places a racially diverse cast at the center of what would usually be a traditionally “white” story, but their skin color has virtually no impact on the development of the tale. Although this sort of “color blind” approach can risk feeling superficial in other productions, Bayron uses it to enhance the wider themes about unable to see yourself in classic stories. Bayron’s approach to LGBTQ+ and POC representation adds extra layers of insight and subtlety to Cinderella is Dead, driving the story whilst also feeling like an entirely conventional part of the background, no different from the usual cliched white male heroes and heterosexual romances. Even with the growing array of diverse YA novels, this feels genuinely radical.

The characters are strong enough to keep Cinderella is Dead moving effectively. Sophia’s first-person narration provides a clarity and focus that allows the themes and messages to be communicated as powerfully as possible. Her status as a misfit beginning to see through the empty grandeur of the annual balls is easy to relate to in an age of political disillusionment, and as Sophia becomes increasingly aware of King Manford’s atrocities, she goes from trying to run away to deciding to take a stand and fight. Constance is a fairly conventional secondary protagonist – the tough warrior woman – but her righteous resentment over the injustices that destroyed her family provides her with the depth and vulnerability needed to make an impression. Sophia and Constance’s banter is charming enough to get the story through its slower stretches. The third major protagonist is Amina, who embodies a theme which is generally underexplored in the story – the women colluding with this toxic system for personal gain. Amina is responsible for Prince Charming’s rise to power, but Sophia and Constance force her to reconsider her position. Amina’s moral ambiguity and divided loyalties are pretty refreshing in a story which relies on a very clear divide between “Good” characters and “Evil” ones, and the questions over which side Amina cares about more are left unanswered right up to the very end. King Manford is an intimidating villain, the sort of relentlessly cruel, self-satisfied despot who can’t get his comeuppance soon enough. As the story progresses, we find out that King Manford is even worse than he appears, but also learn about the disturbingly mundane insecurities that have fueled his atrocities. Like many of the best horror villains, King Manford is an extreme and fantastical representation of a classic social ill – the seemingly endless dominance of a patriarchy that exploits and abuses women. The lead characters comfortably embody familiar archetypes, but they have enough personality for us to stay invested in their conflicts. Because we connect with Sophia and Constance and despise King Manford so much, it is incredibly satisfying to see our two teenage leads stand up to the Prince Charming dynasty.

The supporting cast is relatively underused in comparison. Sophia’s parents are overbearing and overprotective, which is entirely understandable in this world, but this generally means we don’t get to see much of their relationship with Sophia beyond their mission to get a good partner for her at the ball. Sophia’s secret girlfriend Erin represents the woman who conforms to the role expected of her despite all the suffering it brings her, and her submission demonstrates that the system can end up swallowing those who don’t stand up to it. However, her arc is handled in a rather abrupt way - Sophia’s love for Erin forms a key element of the set-up, but Erin is mostly discarded when Constance arrives in the story, with only a couple of later scenes to confirm Sophia is making the right choice in moving on. However, Erin’s cowardice makes sense given what happens to Sophia’s other friends Liv and Luke. The warm-hearted and innocent Liv represents the greatest example of the dangers of the Cinderella myth, as her belief in following the rules and seeking magical assistance only leads to humiliation and death, becoming one of the main incidents that turns Sophia from misfit to revolutionary. Luke’s childhood fantasy of marrying Prince Charming rather than Cinderella provides an insight into why males might buy into the cult of Prince Charming beyond the appeal of getting to own pretty young women, but his ideal of a glamourous authority figure gets shattered pretty quickly. It would have been interesting to see a little more about how people are drawn to the velvet glove that covers the Charming dynasty’s iron fist, but this is a story about challenging injustice rather than examining how it became established in too much detail. The characters play their role in the narrative effectively enough, and that’s what really matters. When Sophia finds herself unable to rely on them, it forces her into the woods and truly sets her off on her heroic journey.

One of the biggest issues with Cinderella is Dead is the fact that Cinderella herself comes across as the weakest character in the Cinderella story. This is entirely intentional – she was the only member of the family to be affected by Prince Charming’s seductions, so of course she would be framed as the only “good” character in his story. However, it can feel a bit disappointing to see Cinderella being portrayed as something of a helpless victim, and a scene where Amina briefly brings her back to life is a bit of an anticlimax. Many modern versions of Cinderella have emphasized her inner strength in a variety of ways, so seeing her fail to fight back feels like a bit of a backwards step. The first person approach can also distance readers from a lot of important moments, with most of the key backstory (Including the murder of Sophia’s grandmother, and the history of Constance’s family) being told to us where a third-person narrative would have shown it. One key part of the story features Sophia and Constance looking at the illustrations to the original manuscript and discovering little details that convey the truth of Cinderella’s story. Using a little bit more of this subtlety to deliver the messages could have gone a really long way.

However, minor flaws aside, Cinderella is Dead is one of the most engaging and original fairy tale YA stories in ages. The premise is brilliant, the setting is distinctive, the characters are memorable and well-developed, and the story succeeds in combining several genres (horror, mystery, dystopian fantasy, LGBTQ+ romance) with a pleasing lightness of touch. It communicates its messages about taking a stand against tyranny and misogyny incredibly effectively, and the closing scenes, where Sophia presents a progressive manifesto for the new world she and her friends will build, feel incredibly powerful and resonant. Even the most important messages struggle to work if the surrounding story is ineffective, but the originality of Kalynn Bayron’s vision and the energy of her writing ensures that Sophia’s calls for the people of Mersailes to “Make a choice to change things” and “Be a light in the dark” are genuinely inspirational. This elevates Cinderella is Dead from mere escapism to a story which strikes a chord in a deeper fashion, and that truly demonstrates what an excellent story Bayron has created.

Conclusion

It is impossible to create a truly original fairytale reimagining (After all, you are working from stories that have been around for centuries), but Cinderella Is Dead demonstrates that is definitely possible to take familiar tropes and elements and combine them in way that will make even the most jaded fairytale nerd gasp and say, “Why Didn’t I Think of That?” Bayron’s wonderfully refreshing potion features a pinch of Jordan Peele’s satirical horror, a dash of Gregory Maguire’s fairytale revisionism, a splash of Sarah J. Maas’ feminist dystopian fantasy, and just a little bit of the mystery and adventure associated with the classic fairytales. Cinderella is Dead is the sort of imaginative, audacious YA fantasy that any fairytale fan should check out immediately. It confirms that Kalynn Bayron is truly a talent to watch out for, and hopefully her future stories (including This Poison Heart, which will be published in June) will allow her to establish a position as a true fantasy icon.