Poisoned - Review

In 2019, Jennifer Donnelly, author of the acclaimed 2003 YA novel A Northern Light (known as A Gathering Light in some territories), found renewed success with Stepsister. The story of “wicked” stepsister Isabelle and her journey from hated bully to heroic warrior, it represented a gritty but rousing spin on the fairytale genre. Donnelly has followed this up with Poisoned, which applies a similar revisionist approach to the story of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. Since it was published late last year, Endeavour Productions have purchased the rights to make a movie adaptation.* But does Posioned confirm Jennifer Donnelly’s newfound status as a major star in the competitive subgenre of YA fairytales?

What’s It About?

Sophie is the heir to the throne of The Greenlands, run by the ruthless Queen Adelaide. With Sophie about to come of age, Adelaide thinks that her more gentle personality will be a disaster for the kingdom. Acting on the advice of a mysterious force in her mirror, Adelaide instructs a huntsman to take Sophie into the Dark Woods, kill her and remove her heart. The Huntsman obeys, but Sophie is rescued by seven dwarves, who give her a clockwork heart to fill the space in her chest. In order to get her old heart back before the replacement stops working, Sophie has to travel to the castle of Nimmermehr, where Corvus, the King of Crows, keeps all the hearts he has stolen from people. On the way she teams up with young loner Will and roguish thief Arno, and faces several obstacles, including a treacherous prince, some destructive fantasy creatures, and three deadly traps set by Adelaide. However, Sophie’s lack of self-confidence is the biggest threat of all…

Review

(Warning: This Review Contains Spoilers)

Poisoned gets off to an impressively brutal start, with a prologue that breaks one of the main rules of Snow White adaptations and features the Huntsman successfully tearing out Sophie’s heart. It conveys an ominous and disturbingly detached tone, but also makes it clear that Sophie’s gruesome fate won’t be permanent. After this, Poisoned settles down – the story is intense and often violent, but never reaches the level of brutality shown in the opening. Ultimately, Poisoned sticks pretty closely to the winning formula of Stepsister. An over-adapted fairytale classic is refreshed, with a self-doubting young woman going on a remarkable journey and proving herself as a heroine. In some ways, Poisoned effectively expands on the tropes of Donnelly’s previous reimagining, but there are times where it tries to do too much and loses a lot of Stepsister’s charms in the process.

For all its issues, Poisoned has one undeniable strength - The messages are stronger and more sophisticated than the ones in Stepsister. If Isabelle was a character learning to unleash her inner warrior, Sophie’s story is a woman learning that her kindness is her greatest strength. Sophie’s integrity provides a more resonant role model for a modern world with less military conflict and more internal conflicts based around the timeless conflict between our principles and the harsh realities of daily life. She also proves to be a source of inspiration in a more specific way. Like Isabella’s missing toes in Stepsister, Sophie accepting that her clockwork heart is more durable than she realises can be taken as an analogy for learning to live with disability and is probably a more effective metaphor with a greater effect on the story. That message that the younger generation can remake society into a kinder place is one of the most frequently used YA conventions (with good reason) and Poisoned succeeds in bringing its own insights to the classic message.

One of the greatest challenges Poisoned faces is making a protagonist who can step out of the shadow of Stepsister’s unlikely heroine Isabelle. Stepsister stood out due to its relatively unconventional choice of protagonist, but whilst YA epics themed around wicked stepsisters are still a reasonably subversive rarity, revisionist takes on Snow White are fairly common, so Poisoned is at a bit of a disadvantage. Seeing a traditionally wholesome heroine try to maintain her integrity is not as compelling as Stepsister’s redemption narrative, but Sophie is a protagonist strong enough to carry the story. Initially, she spends a lot of time worrying about things, from the reliability of her clockwork heart to the need to trap and kill rabbits in order to survive in the woods. This chronic insecurity is entirely understandable, as it is exacerbated by Sophie’s insecurity over Adelaide’s hostility towards her, and her belief that she only has a limited amount of time before her clockwork heart stops working. Fortunately, as Sophie learns to take control over her life and deal with her problems, this overbearing self-doubt becomes less important. However, even in her worst moments, Sophie isn’t entirely miserable. Shortly after she receives the new heart, it causes Sophie to act in the hyperactively positive way you would expect from a stereotypical Disney princess - seeing her pet rats and shout “This cottage is Ador-a-bull!” is actually pretty endearing. These scenes (and other moments where Sophie’s lack of experience generates comedy) represent a nice contrast to the more serious tone of the rest of the story. Isabelle from Stepsister is probably the stronger of Donnelly’s two protagonists, but Sophie is a formidable role model in her own right.

One thing that distinguishes Poisoned from Stepsister is the greater number of fantasy elements. Stepsister was a relatively grounded tale (although it had its share of strange, outlandish moments – the creative use of an extremely mouldy cheese springs to mind) that only truly brought in major forms of magic at the climax. In contrast, Poisoned has many more surreal touches. The Dwarves have a giant ladybird as their cleaner and a giant spider as their chef. One of the dwarves claims he hears the trees in the forest supporting him during a difficult moment, whilst Arno believes that swallows carry the soul of deceased children. The fantasy creatures guarding Nimmermehr include Blackbriars (a form of living tree), and Wuntzfetzens (imps who distract people with images of lost loved ones, but can be defeated by offering them cake). All these bizarre additions are treated as entirely normal, and this ensures that they never feel too distracting or out of place. Instead, they add a welcome touch of personality. The story also embraces the Germanic location, and in a more specific way than Stepsister’s use of French scenery. The Greenlands are not Germany per se, but they are still a world where schnitzel and strudel are on the dinner table, and most of the characters have unambiguously Germanic names. Whilst Stepsister kept its world relatively simple, the universe of Poisoned feels a lot larger and a lot more interesting.

The fast-paced and engaging structure of Stepsister (loads of relatively short chapters) is retained, and there are a number of creative descriptions as the more fantastical setting leads to stronger visuals. As you can expect, the climactic scenes at Nimmermehr really make the place as intimidating as possible, introducing us to various rooms full of inanimate items with a life of their own, desserts made with literal lady fingers, and finally, a room containing hundreds of disembodied human hearts (including Sophie’s own) – “more than anyone could count in a lifetime”. We also get several big action sequences before our leads arrive at this destination, including Sophie trying to conceal her opposition to one of Adelaide’s hunts, escaping from a burning church, and evading members of Adelaide’s army. However, the final confrontations are about talking rather than fighting – this is inevitable given the more introspective nature of the story, and overarching theme of Sophie learning to stand up for herself without losing her innate virtue. Despite all the character development, the concluding chapters seem like a bit of an anticlimax. It is certainly satisfying to see Sophie make their way back to The Greenlands to regain her throne (helped by the mass of friends she has made on her quest), but it feels less triumphant than Isabelle defeating her tormentors on the battlefield in Stepsister. It is telling that one of the of the most compelling scenes in Poisoned does not involve Sophie at all, but instead features Will’s grandmother Oma confronting Corvus’ sister Crucia when she makes an unwanted night-time visit. The quiet and intimate setting generates a level of tension and efficiency that most conventional action scenes struggle to obtain, and it represents a useful bout of subtlety in a story otherwise defined by its busy, forceful approach.

The original Snow White story has a fairly static narrative. Snow White stays in the Dwarves’ house, the Wicked Queen tries to kill her repeatedly. In contrast, Poisoned is a full-blooded quest story, with Sophie literally "following her heart" and leaving the Dwarves' cottage to seek the solutions to her problems for herself. This is an advantage for multiple reasons. First of all, it keeps the story engaging, but it also allows Sophie to see the damage caused by Adelaide’s often callous approach and learn the lessons that will enable her to be a better ruler. During her journey, Sophie has to interact with disabled soldiers and villagers being booted out of their homes – these meetings feel a little rushed and underdeveloped (understandable in this busy story), but explore political realities in a way that few Snow White adaptations are able to. The Queen’s three attempts to kill Snow White from the source material are incorporated into this mission, but essentially just become three roadblocks in a larger journey. They are still used effectively though. When the legendary poison apple finally makes its appearance, it is in a crowded market, with a disguised Adelaide poisoning Sophie in plain sight of dozens of villagers. This adds an extra note of unsettling reality to the situation which works really well. In all three of the deathtraps, Sophie gets saved as a result of a single set of good deeds she does in the opening scenes. This sort of convenience is a reliably satisfying staple of traditional quest-based fairytales and highlights one of the major themes of the story – Sophie’s compassion and kind gestures eventually yield wonderful rewards. The fairytale structure brings a much-needed clarity to a story which often runs the risk of getting lost in its attempts to explore the wider world.

Whilst Stepsister only had a handful of lead characters, Poisoned tries to give space to a far larger cast. The seven Dwarves are always hard to depict, due to the challenges of having seven supporting characters share the story with a heroine, a villain, a prince, and a magic mirror. In the classic Disney tradition, their personalities are broad enough for them not to be confused with each other (one is an engineer, one likes food), but vivid enough for them to feel like genuine people. However, the changed structure means we spend relatively little time with them compared to other adaptations. The dwarves are joined by several new additions. The most prominent of these is Will, a gruff but helpful young man who initially regards Sophie as the spoiled representative of a tyrannical kingdom, but eventually comes to be the archetypal love interest. Will’s grandmother Oma and sickly younger sister Gretta both have supporting roles, and his interactions with them elevate him above the generic. Out of the new characters, Arno makes the biggest impression by far. He seems to be a shifty comic relief rouge before revealing secret motives and a backstory that make him a more noble character. The vast cast means that supporting protagonists end up dipping in and out of the story - a lot of characters who seem to have "vanished forever” end up returning when Sophie needs them most. For the most part, the supporting cast is likeable and engaging, but they are in a distant second to Sophie and her character development, and this is generally for the best.

The other main parallel between Poisoned and Stepsister is the way that both stories aim to raise the stakes by adding in mythological elements, with our ordinary protagonist having to deal with the machinations of godly entities. But whilst Stepsister established this grand playing field in the opening pages, Poisoned makes it into a surprising late twist. Without going too far into spoiler territory, Corvus, Crucia and their sinister father are not villains that can be defeated in the conventional sense. Instead, Sophie has to adapt to their destructive influence, and this pragmatic acceptance gives Poisoned a substance which elevates it above the typical naïve optimism of fairy tale quests. An even more effective addition is the use of a couple of fairy tales within the narrative, told by Oma and Arno. The first concerns an anxious young prince who defeats an ogre with a magical ball of yarn – this story is elevated by a cameo from Stepsister’s wonderfully intimidating fairy godmother Tanquill. The second depicts a neurotic princess who allows herself to be walled up in a tomb representing her fears and is unable to escape. These tales combine brutal violence with powerful messages, embodying the traditional pre-Grimm cautionary ethos that has allowed these stories to resonate for centuries – as Arno puts it, “I love fairy tales. They give it to you straight”. Though these tales within a tale have virtually no bearing on the plotline, they still effectively add to the atmosphere and enhance the messages in an engaging and memorable way.

Despite Poisoned’s increased ambition, it often fails to improve on Stepsister’s weaknesses, and in fact ends up taking several backwards steps. One of Stepsister’s biggest faults was the way it often disrupted the narrative to deliver its messages, and this approach returns in Poisoned. Initially, the story tries to justify this by using posthumous first-person narration from Adelaide’s Huntsman, who takes himself out of the tale pretty early. However, this is handled extremely inconsistently, and eventually casually discarded (The messages about dealing with inner demons go from “I” to a generic “we” that could be used by any commentator). As a result, it ends up feeling more distracting than ever- Why give the responsibility of narrating this story to such a peripheral character? Most egregiously, the climactic confrontation between Sophie and Corvus’ father is disrupted by an excerpt of narration that literally gives us the dictionary definition of courage. As in Stepsister, the messages are important enough for subtlety to be unnecessary, but this approach can still be pretty annoying. The focus on delivering the message affects the story in other ways. The legacy of Sophie’s deceased father plays an important role in the climax, but it has little emotional impact because we never got to know him. Whereas the big reveals in Stepsister added nuance to Isabelle’s relationship with Cinderella, the twist here ends up merely highlighting the limitations of Poisoned’s looser approach to storytelling.

The problem of “Too many characters” is most damaging when it comes to the villains. Poisoned lacks the time and space to give its main villains sufficient development. In contrast to the flat but functional human villains in Stepsister, Queen Adelaide is genuinely fascinating character – a surprisingly vulnerable tyrant whose need to appear tough all the time is actually destroying her inside. However, she only appears intermittently after the opening, and this feels like a real waste of potential. The final confrontation succeeds in highlighting Adelaide’s tragic depths, but also feels like a real downer of a conclusion in many of the worst possible ways. The other villains end up becoming a distraction. The King of Crows and his family are certainly intimidating, but ultimately pale in comparison to Fate and Chance from Stepsister. Making their true nature into a plot twist ensures that it feels like a rather superficial way of adding meaning to an already epic story. The casually masochistic Crucia is the only member of the family to demonstrate the moral ambiguity that made Fate and Chance so interesting, and she is another character who does not get enough opportunities to shine. However, the weakest of the major villains is Haakon, a two-dimensional treacherous suitor in the Prince Hans mould. Donnelly succeeds in the basics – she makes him into a source of false hope for Sophie at the beginning, then turns him into a detestable baddie when his true nature is revealed at the half-way point. But this type of villain is inherently formulaic and annoying – The other main characters in Poisoned are familiar archetypes portrayed with nuance and humanity, but the sort of compulsive treachery embodied by Haakon cannot be depicted with the same shades of grey. All the charm and personality he shows in his opening scenes is wiped away so we can boo and hiss him, and Donnelly doesn’t do much with him beyond the usual bait and switch. Haakon fulfils his role in the story well enough - demonstrating that there are some characters who even a kinder ruler like Sophie cannot be merciful towards – but he is definitely a significant weak link. Despite the fact that Haakon is the sort of opportunist who can exploit Adelaide’s insecurities, the two never actually interact, which diminishes both of them. The villains in Poisoned are used primarily as roadblocks, but this is a major limitation for the more psychologically complex Adelaide. The failure to make her downfall truly come alive demonstrates the deficiencies of Donnelly’s “one girl vs. the world” approach and highlights the way in which the need to stick to the formula of Stepsister ultimately prevents Poisoned from standing out on its own terms.

Conclusion

Stepsister revitalised Jennifer Donnelly’s career, so it’s no surprise that Poisoned follows closely in its footsteps. Poisoned is a more spectacular story with a stronger message and more creativity, but it is hindered by its messier narrative and habit of doubling down on many of Stepsister’s faults. Overall, Poisoned is probably the weaker of the two, but still has enough imagination and interesting ideas to keep fans reading all the way through. The ending teases further fairy tale reimaginings, and whilst the flaws of Poisoned have dimmed the excitement a bit, there is still enough potential in this world to make us interested in seeing what changes Donnelly will make to Grimm classics like Rapunzel or Little Red Riding Hood...

(*- Endeavour Productions also brought the rights to Stepsister way back in 2017. Although a screenwriter was hired in 2019, the project seems stuck in development hell, and Poisoned is even less likely to get filmed (especially as it’s a more elaborate and expensive story). However, these sales still bring good publicity and royalty cheques for Donnelly, so they are worth mentioning. And who knows, the Stepsister movie may still see the light of day…)