Review of A Treachery of Swans by Sarah Poranek
As someone who has long been captivated by the stories woven into the fabric of classic tales, Sarah Poranek’s A Treachery of Swans immediately drew me in. The idea of exploring the darker side of Swan Lake, particularly through the lens of Odile, the infamous black swan, seemed like a fresh and intriguing approach. I was excited to immerse myself in this reimagining, eager to uncover the complexities of love, betrayal, and the pursuit of power. However, my journey through its pages proved to be more frustrating than fulfilling.
At its heart, A Treachery of Swans revolves around Odile, a young girl who yearns for acceptance and strives for the power she feels entitled to. Unfortunately, her actions—trapping her closest friend, Marie, and impersonating her—become the centerpiece of a conflict that feels both disjointed and unsatisfactory. Poranek aims for Odile to be cunning and manipulative, yet her portrayal falls flat. She often acknowledges her friend’s persona but frequently neglects the required subtlety of mimicry, opting instead for a reckless brashness that feels out of character and weakens the plot.
As our narrator, Odile’s frustrations are palpable, but they border on tiresome. Behaviors stemming from her complicated history with Marie—marked by an unresolved “necklace-gate” incident—seem forced rather than integral to her character development. That incident serves as a backdrop for much of our understanding of their relationship, but instead of feeding Odile’s motivations, it creates confusion regarding her feelings of betrayal. Her reflections, while intended to be poignant, often devolve into a cycle of self-justification that leaves readers feeling disconnected from her plight.
Poranek provides intriguing moments and vivid imagery, but the writing sometimes trips over itself, particularly in pacing. The revelations come from other characters, with Odile left to glean insights rather than driving the narrative herself. As she observes mysteries unfold, it’s hard not to feel let down that she, the presumed villain, lacks the wit and intelligence to engage us fully. A particular quote encapsulates this struggle: “You were always too clever, weren’t you? Impatient, reckless, but clever when forced to be.” Yet, I found it difficult to reconcile with a character who often appeared out of her depth.
The potential for a rich exploration of a complex friendship turned sour is evident, yet it falls flat. The romantic tension between Odile and Marie lacks the depth one would expect from such a storied relationship. Their interactions breeze by without the emotionally charged encounters that typically mark a friends-to-enemies path. It felt like the stakes were constantly undermined by their shaky chemistry, leaving me wanting more substantial connection in a story that clearly aimed for depth.
In contrast, I found myself reminiscing about Princess Tutu, an anime that similarly dances around themes of manipulation, love, and redemption with elegance. Rue, the black swan of that tale, showcases the ability to confront her wrongs, a journey that Odile seemed to avoid entirely. This divergence left me pondering the moral intricacies at play throughout A Treachery of Swans but not in a way that left me satisfied.
In the end, I’d say this book might resonate with those who enjoy tales that nestle into the shadows of beloved classics. However, if you seek a gripping exploration of character-driven narratives with genuine emotional weight, you might find better luck in titles like A Dark and Drowning Tide or the beautifully crafted Princess Tutu. With a score of 2 out of 5 stars, A Treachery of Swans presents beautiful bones but lacks the storytelling substance to carry its promise fully. It’s an ambitious endeavor that ultimately left me yearning for a more cohesive connection between character and narrative.