Tess of the Road

Tess of the Road finds our protagonist going through an existential journey of identity. Set as a side story to the popular “Seraphina” series, Tess is Seraphina’s half-sister. Tess, however, does not have the mythical abilities of her half-dragon sister—black sheep do not have any powers in this mythology, unfortunately. After parting from her twin sister who married a gentleman and her mythical half-sister’s newly established motherhood, Tess takes a different path and leaves all her family’s religious zealotry behind to deal with the dragon that lurks inside.

On her journey, noticing she is treated unfairly as a woman, Tess decides to cut her hair and wear clothes in accordance with this world’s knighthood standards. Under the tutelage of a familiar quigutl, a flightless subspecies of dragon, Tess and her companion face trials and tribulations. Nothing is especially vivifying, mind-you, but nonetheless carries glimpses of tension due to her gendered disguise and what it would mean if she was discovered for, even in this fantasy land, the sword that cuts down foes and opens new pathways is always in a man’s hands. There is a lot of movement in this novel – characters flit about and jump in and out of the narrative frame – but many threads lead nowhere. Instead, this journey is about Tess’ voyage into herself and thinking through her past traumatic pregnancy and coming to terms with herself. Do not expect epic dragon fights or magical spells to garnish these pages because Tess becomes a different type of warrior.

Replacing the action is a thoughtful exploration of self-worth. I appreciated the narrative’s ability to tackle contemporary issues in this genre, a genre often relegated to strict gender norms that reflect the fantasy tropes established decades ago. The subversion of these tropes is its greatest tactility that can provide an interesting model for teens who look to fiction for reflections of our society with a fantastical twist. Tread lightly, however, for this tale is only for fantasy readers who appreciate slow world building and internal monologue.

Uneven and sluggish pacing is Tess of the Road’s greatest weakness. It has a difficult time synthesizing mythology and narrative effectively; the palpability readers should feel does not occur until well past its half-way mark. A lot of the mythology, furthermore, is left at the periphery – hinting at something grander and more interesting – but what is frequently explored is its bland and derivative religious ideology that abstains from any interesting fantasy disguises. When it is does try to explore its more compelling aspects, it does so matter-of-factly – instead of more engagingly through narrative osmosis – which stifles the story’s pacing and is bound to steal some catharsis from its reader. These structural critiques speak to Tess’ clear focus: this is not so much a fantasy read as it is feminist fiction within the loosely determined fantasy parameters—it tries to shatter the fantasy form by revealing Tess’ liberation is not a fantasy but a lived reality. Readers who appreciate P.O.V. ruminations and glimmers into something greater than the precepts of its genre, something more fluid, are advised to take this journey with Tess.