Fly

Felix Landon Yarrow, 14, is the single son of a 56-year-old single mother who is so tired after her long days working as a school custodian at an elementary school that her idea of fun and relaxation is to watch television sitcoms with her hapless son seated in his wheelchair at her side – not an activity Felix enjoys, but he does his best to keep her company.

At school, he’s called Fly, a nickname earned when his mother wrote his initials in large, black, capital letters on the outside of his backpack — FLY. An insect name he despises. So unlike his own, which he thinks of as lyrical.

During the school day, his closest companion is 23-year-old Levi, his aide. The other companion he relies on is Don Quixote, a book that once belonged to his deceased father. For Fly, the book serves two purposes. It’s a hard book to read, and, when others see him with it, it’s possible the assumptions they make about his mind being as incompetent as his body might be dispelled, even if just a little. Secondly, the character Don Quixote seeks two things: justice and the heart of a beautiful lady.

And say what they will about the old knight and his fights

(“pathetic”

“deluded”

“mad”

“sad”)

At least he tried.

He stood alone

unafraid

of the sharp

barbs

of criticism,

lifted his head

above life’s

chaotic mess

and

sought

justice.

For Fly, seeking justice means taking down Carter — the school bad-boy who walks the halls as if he owns them — and, in doing so, Fly will save beautiful, innocent, Daria from Carter’s evil intentions and perhaps accomplish Quixote’s second goal and win her for himself.

For Fly, Daria is a girl who, when

She laughs

her face lights up, and

the whole

world

stills.

A girl who, when Carter takes notice of her, turns her smile on him which makes Fly believe she might succumb to his false charms and end up hurt. Thus, Fly’s hero’s journey to save her begins.

All heroes have some sort of weapon they can use to vanquish their enemies. While Fly’s thoughts of being a hero could be as delusional as Don Quixote’s quests were, his weapon is real. He’s spent his whole life having people look past him or through him. Others not only don’t take the time to listen to him and understand him, they dismiss him entirely. As if he doesn’t exist. As if he’s a ‘nobody’. Literally invisible. A weapon he can use to expose Carter for the villain he is.

I’ve heard him

laugh

about cheating

on exams

and girlfriends,

Throughout this verse novel, author Alison Hughes keeps Fly’s character real. The reader sees his struggles in his day-to-day existence; feels his inner longing and pain, and, at times, laughs with him. Readers will cheer for him.

Levi is a modern-day-version of Don Quixote’s sidekick, Pancho Sanchez. In Cervantes’ novel, Pancho Sanchez is the down-to-earth foil to his master’s fantasies. Outgoing Levi is unaware of his client’s inner fantasies because Fly keeps it that way. But like Sanchez, no matter how much his attentions and attempts to help Fly expand his very limited world are rebuffed by Fly, Levi goes beyond the efforts of a mere aide to bring Fly out of his shell and into the mainstream of life. Levi stays the course. Not like master and servant. Like friends. Readers will also connect with him.

Telling a story through the eyes of a hero with limited capabilities can bring readers fully into that hero’s world, and using a verse novel format to tell that story can be highly successful. Unfortunately, in Fly, those choices don’t fully pan out.

While the author knows where the story is headed and what the outcome will be, for readers to become engaged with the hero’s quest when it’s told through the hero’s eyes, the reader needs to believe what the hero believes. In this instance, before the climax and denouement, we need to believe Daria needs to be saved. And we don’t. Daria is understandably a distanced character. After all, if she were attainable, Fly wouldn’t have to mount a quest to save her. However, her actions and reactions to Carter don’t signal anything that would indicate to a hero who is self-described as intelligent and noble that she’s actually in danger of any kind, let alone convince the reader. And that flattens the comparison of Fly to Don Quixote to a single character trait — delusion.

Another stumbling block is Carter. As the novel progresses, the reader is told about various crimes Fly’s heard Carter boast about committing. But we don’t see Carter do anything much, except be popular. Later, evidence surfaces that shows he’s dealing drugs, a serious but common crime in middle schools these days, and not one that puts Daria in imminent danger. Or causes our hero to take dangerous risks until the action scene. Which makes Carter an unworthy antagonist.

The action scene of Fly and Levi’s confrontation with Carter and his band is a great twist. It’s exciting and feels real. However, prior to that confrontation, we’ve no evidence the hero will be in danger when he takes action.

Through succinct and poetic language, the choice of using verse as a format for a novel can result in a story that is richly layered. In Hughes’ novel, the reader becomes familiar with the difficulties people with Cerebral Palsy face every day of their lives and will admire Fly’s grit and Levi’s character. Readers will also resonate with Fly’s growth. But the layers that would pull us fully into the hero’s life and reveal subtexts aren’t there. The focus of the book is assumptions — what they do to one’s perceptions and the actions that result from that. And that’s really where the book begins and ends.

In other words, to be fully engaged with Fly (AKA Felix) and his quest, the reader needs a lot more.