Powerless (Powerless, #1) by Lauren K. McKellar: A Cautionary Tale of Borrowed Tropes
Oh boy, where do I even begin with Powerless? First, let me just say that I was sucked in by the tantalizing cover and the promise of a “romantasy” that combines elements from some of my all-time favorite reads. But as I turned the pages, my kingdom for an editor quickly transformed into a battle cry echoing through the realm of YA literature—because wow, did this book put me through the emotional wringer.
Powerless thrusts us into a world rife with power struggles, as the divided society of Ilya plays host to our protagonist, Paedyn. Picture a sassy heroine who could be the distant cousin of Katniss Everdeen, but with an insatiable urge to critique the nearest guy within a two-mile radius. And then there’s Kai, the “morally gray prince” whose personality is as bland as overcooked chicken. While I found Kai’s sarcasm amusing at times, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was a collection of tropes rather than a fully fleshed-out character.
The story’s concepts feel borrowed from the likes of The Hunger Games and Red Queen—Lauren had promised a unique spin, but for me, it barely looked like a distant cousin of its literary progenitors. The dialogue read like a cringe compilation of the worst moments in YA history: love triangles, repetitive inner monologues, and characters who huff and puff more than the Big Bad Wolf. And let’s not even get started on the incessant descriptions of “smoky eyes.”
Now, while I am all for a good trope-laden story, the execution here left much to be desired. The pacing faltered with each unnecessary trial, and I found myself rolling my eyes at the endless banter, which felt more like filler than significant character development. There were glimmers of potential in the narrative, but they were overshadowed by the sheer volume of cliché scenarios that fell flat.
There were moments in the writing that sparked a hint of intrigue, and if I’m being honest, the premise could have been so compelling had it not been for the subpar execution. A highly trained soldier dancing in an arena? Seriously? What are we doing here? And don’t get me started on the awkward attempts to flesh out Paedyn’s backstory—a character who claims to be “not like other girls” but could use a sprinkle of authenticity.
In fairness, there were aspects I appreciated. If you’re someone who loves the escapism of dystopian worlds filled with a sprinkle of forbidden romance, you might find joy in Powerless. But for those of us craving originality and character depth, this might feel like a frustrating trip down a well-trodden path.
So, who might enjoy this book? If you revel in familiar tropes, sarcastic banter, and a side of predictable romance, dive in. However, for readers seeking innovation and compelling narratives, I’d suggest seeking elsewhere, or at least giving this one a skim read instead.
In the end, my reading experience was a reminder that while we can love our tropes, freshness and originality must hold the throne. Until next time, happy reading, and remember: enjoy the journey, but don’t be afraid to question the destinations!
Discover more about Powerless (Powerless, #1) on GoodReads >>
