The Delusionist

I really wanted to love this contemporary young-adult novel. It’s funny, the writing is good, the characters are cool, and you learn a lot about magic tricks.

The Delusionist revolves around three high school magicians vying for a coveted spot at the Masters of Magic Fantasy Camp. Two are best friends who have always performed together. Now they learn they may have to perform separately or be disqualified. There’s also a washed-up magician-turned-con-artist who, the protagonist is convinced, will help him win the competition. And there’s a newcomer on the scene who captures the protagonist’s heart, if not his mind as well.

There’s lots of fun writing:

“Sound good?”

This sounds so far from good that you’d need the Hubble telescope to even see the galaxy that good is located in. But what other choice do I have?

If only all the scenes in the book were as believable as the characters themselves. But let’s get to that in a moment.

It’s first-person from the point of view of 16-year-old Quinn, the insecure protagonist who spends much of the novel feeling like a “pathetic sidekick” in the shadow of his “perfect” bestie, Perry. Indeed, Quinn’s poor-me attitude, which lasts through most of the novel, would grate if not for the crisp, amusing dialogue.

As the water runs, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The best you can say about my face is that it’s inconspicuous. Like clip art. The kind of mug you might use in an advertisement for nine-dollar haircuts.

He’s always there. For me. For you. For everyone. It kind of makes you want to puke, his unconditional availability. No wonder everybody loves him. Including me.

Perry’s nodding slowly, like it’s all starting to sink in now. What a miserable, disappointing person I really am. What a waste of time it’s been being my friend all these years.

Admittedly some of those creative lines are a bit odd, but never mind.

Once you’ve heard Perry’s smooth radio baritone, my reedy sneaker screech is like a dark pube poking from a pillowy mound of whipped cream.

Then there’s the third point in the triangle, Quinn’s love-interest and fellow budding magician, Dani. She’s a sparky girl but also an uber opportunistic, devious manipulator. Or does that describe Quinn’s new persona as he comes under her influence? Of the three main characters, the question becomes: who is getting played; who is sabotaging whom? And where does the con artist fit in? All that keeps you turning the pages, for sure.

The entire novel is focused on which of the three will win the upcoming magic-show audition. Therefore, the random plot device that finally reveals who does, feels like a letdown, not a clever plot twist. Unfortunately, it feels contrived.

As does a love-triangle “duel” and its resolution earlier in the novel. I mean, seriously, how realistic is it that Quinn would say all of the following to Perry within hearing of all his gathered schoolmates? Tension and good writing, yes. Realistic, maybe not.

“I really am sorry, Perry. I blew it. I took you for granted, and you’re the last person in the world I would want to do that to. You’re the kindest, most generous, most talented, most amazing person I’ve ever met. I admire you more than you’ll ever know. But sometimes….it’s like I’ve told you…I just feel…low-rent. Standing beside you. Like I’m a ball of cat-clawed yarn and you’re this…gorgeous cashmere sweater that everyone wants to cuddle with.”

Then there’s the episode where Quinn drools over Perry’s ex-girlfriend (who has come to him to talk about getting back together with Perry). That felt jarringly unrealistic, even for an insecure guy who has decided he’s a flunky when it comes to girls.

Finally, although Quinn’s parents are clearly meant to be a little out-there, they are so over the top that scenes involving them feel spoof-ish, cheapening the otherwise strong cast of characters.

Still, overall the novel rocks, with steady tension and sparkling writing, even a poetry-spouting janitor. There are plenty of four-letter words, but this is YA, after all.

I drop my head, feeling like a seasick passenger on the Titanic. I stare at the concrete. The weeds poking through the cracks. The shoe-smeared beetle who never saw it coming. The empty Twinkies wrapper tumbling with the wind.

So, yes, I liked The Delusionist. But didn’t quite love it. A salute to the writing, humor, pace and characters, and just a raised eyebrow at some of the plot.