teen science fiction and fantasy | Musings of the Monster Librarian

The Trials of Apollo, Book Three: The Burning Maze by Rick Riordan

Disney-Hyperion, 2018

ISBN-13: 978-1484746431

Available: Hardcover, paperback, Kindle edition, audibook, audio CD

The Trials of Apollo is probably my favorite of all Rick Riordan’s series, and the third series starring Greek gods and demigods. To be fair, I have read them with my kids starting when they were in elementary school and hero Percy Jackson was not that much older than they were, and the characters from the original Percy Jackson books are now college-aged, with much more complex stories and relationships. The Trials of Apollo is unique in that it backtracks to a point in the earlier series The Heroes of Olympus, where Zeus picked Apollo as his scapegoat for the terrible events that take place in the series due to Apollo’s self-centered and impulsive behaviors. Apollo’s punishment was to be literally thrown to Earth as a mortal 16 year old boy, Lester Papadopolous. Narrated in first person by Apollo, The Trials of Apollo reveals the god’s thought processes as an powerful, gifted immortal who has had adult (if immature) relationships and feelings, who is suddenly forced to deal with the limitations of being a less-that-perfect human mortal, who is dependent on others. Apollo’s absence, because he is the god of prophecy, means that no new prophecies can be created to guide heroes on their quests, and the oracles have been taken captive by Roman god-emperors as part of a larger plan of world domination. I suggest reading the books in this series in order, and it wouldn’t hurt to read the previous two series (Percy Jackson and the Olympians and The Heroes of Olympus) first to get a complete picture of the characters and world presented in the books.

In the series’ first book, Apollo is not especially likable, due to his character flaws and refusal to admit that he now has limitations, but as the story goes on, he begins to gain some perspective in spite of himself, and we do get to see that he has deep regrets for some of his past actions. There are funny moments and times when he steps up to do the right thing, and he becomes a more sympathetic character. The disparities between his perceptions of himself as an adult and long-lived immortal and the reality of being a mortal teenage boy are really interesting. While Riordan touched on sexual orientation in The House of Hades, in the series The Heroes of Olympus, Apollo’s long history of relationships with members of both sexes is addressed frankly and nonjudgmentally, and flows naturally from the character. Riordan gives us the expected entertaining modern interpretations of characters from Greek mythology and pop culture references, as well. At the end of the book, the characters finally receive a prophecy, which sends them, in the second book, to Indiana.

As a longtime Indiana resident, I found The Dark Prophecy to be really entertaining, and it’s also where Apollo really starts to tap into what it means to be human. He continues to encounter the results of his actions on others when he was a god, and being faced with them forces him to rethink the way he has acted and treated others in the past. Watching his character evolve in The Dark Prophecy, as well as seeing how other characters deal with change, makes this an outstanding book. Apollo is still selfish, immature, and arrogant, but he has developed more compassion, understanding, and loyalty.

In this book, The Burning Maze, he has managed, with help, to defeat (at least temporarily) two of the three god-emperors (who are textbook cases in human cruelty and capriciousness) attempting world domination, and restore two of the five oracles. He’s clearly weaker than the other demigods and mythological characters he encounters, and they’re not doing so well themselves. Traveling through the Labyrinth to southern California, accompanied by the satyr Grover (he appears in earlier books as Percy Jackson’s friend) and Meg, a demigod daughter of Demeter who Apollo is bound to serve, they arrive to find it a desert, with wildfires and drought having destroyed most vegetation. The Erythnean Sibyl, the oracle they have come to free, is being controlled by the god-emperor Caligula, who is probably the most vain, erratic, cruel, narcissistic, and sociopathic of the three emperors Apollo and the demigods must face. He also prefers to delegate much of the work to others– in this case, the sorceress Medea. Medea appeared in the previous series as well, where she was cleverly presented and defeated. She’s not as creatively used here, and I wish Riordan had picked a different villain to do the dirty work in this book. Grover and Meg are perfect additions to this story about the destruction of nature by human carelessness, fire, and climate change, and their relationships with the dryads of the desert plants are well done. Meg’s warrior dryads, the Meliai, and Caligula’s furry henchmen, the pandai, are fun additions to the cast of characters, and add a touch of humor as well as menace to the story. Apollo’s references to popular culture lace the story and act as reminders of his influence on music and literature.

This story has the most evidence of character growth on Apollo’s part, as he starts to see some of the complexities involved in human relationships, and the selflessness that some people have when it comes to protecting the ones they love or the world around them. At one point, he even asks himself if he would take immortality back if it meant abandoning his companions. Because of this, though, the two divergent aspects of his life don’t contrast as effectively, so even though his character shows more growth and reflection, we don’t see as much tension between the perspectives of Apollo-as-god and Apollo-as-mortal, and the story doesn’t seem as dynamic.

Something I appreciated in this book was that it returned us to characters who seemed to have their stories neatly tied up in the series Heroes of Olympus to show us that the “happily ever after” ending of a series is not always the ending of the story. Piper and Jason, a happy couple at the end of that series, turn out to have had some rocky times since it ended, and their subplot and its devastating consequences have a significant effect on Apollo’s continued character growth. That character growth seems to be the major focus of the book, though– while there is plenty of fast-paced action, I didn’t feel like it moved the story forward as much as previous books did. As with Piper and Jason’s relationship, The Burning Maze also does not have its ends tied up neatly, with the characters scattering in various states of grief, despair, determination, and hope as Apollo prepares to move on to fulfill the next piece of the prophecy. This time, I really wish the story had been tied up a little more neatly, as the next volume is not scheduled to be released until fall of 2019, and I would have liked for the book to end on an up note. Still, Riordan has left me wanting more of Apollo and his trials and adventures, and I look forward to seeing where he takes the story next. Recommended for middle school and older.

Contains: Violence, murder, torture, cruelty, adult situations

Reviewed by Kirsten Kowalewski

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit my local Barnes and Noble, which is a rare occurrence for me. I wasn’t there to scout out the YA fiction but I remembered the anecdote Meghan Cox Gurdon wrote about in her controversial article “Darkness Too Visible”, about a parent who went to the bookstore and couldn’t find anything to read that didn’t have dark themes.

I had to get past a large display of Ally Carter’s books to reach the YA fiction shelves. Ally Carter writes the Gallagher Girls books, which are a lot of fun, and not what I’d describe as dark. I saw other displays of contemporary teen fiction as well, before I reached the shelves marked for teens.

So, what are Barnes and Noble’s categories for teens? There’s teen paranormal romance, teen science fiction and fantasy, teen adventure, some contemporary stuff, chick-litty and soap opera-ish stuff, fiction on “the tough stuff”. The fiction on “the tough stuff” is emotionally intense, realistic fiction that often includes explicit description, and can be very disturbing. This is the “darkness too visible” that seems to bother Ms. Gurdon the most, which is understandable, as she’s a mother to teenagers herself. In her article, she related that her experience has been that the average teen doesn’t deal with these issues. That hasn’t been my experience. But let’s say that she’s right. What about the kids who aren’t average teens? Where are they supposed to go for support and information when they feel alone or unable to help a friend?

Well, there is a nonfiction section for teens at my Barnes and Noble, jammed into a corner. If I needed help with a real life problem, I’d look in nonfiction. What’s in the nonfiction section at my local bookstore? Memoirs (like Farewell to Manzanar), the Bible for teens, style and fashion, puberty, and the teen versions of Chicken Soup for the Soul and Stephen Covey. This is supposed to be helpful and supportive to teens dealing with cutting, sexual abuse, domestic violence, rape, drug abuse, mental illness, divorce, sexual identity, suicide, and disability? Teens who may, at as young an age as fourteen, soon be parents themselves?

Nonfiction isn’t filling the need. It’s the writers of teen fiction who create support communities, include 800 numbers, and offer resources to kids who need more. It’s these writers of teen fiction who are saying to teens that they are not alone.

Here’s what the nonfiction section at Barnes and Noble did offer me: a book called The Notebook Girls. It’s a true story of four “average” privileged fifteen year old girls who passed a notebook around to keep connected, because their schedules conflicted. I looked it up and discovered that it was a source of controversy at the time of publication, and I can understand why. In just the first few pages, the mentions of casual drug use, stereotyping, and nastiness were so appalling that it made me ill. A major publishing house apparently decided it would be a good idea to publish this notebook, uncensored. It would be hurtful to be written about by these girls in this way even if the notebook were from 20 years ago, but these girls were still in college when the book was published. These “average teenagers” clearly had a lot going on under the surface that Mom and Dad weren’t noticing.

Is there darkness too visible in young adult fiction? Maybe, for some kids. But it’s the darkness not visible, the guidance and support that’s not provided to teens of many kinds, in nonfiction and in life, that really concerns me.