Fairytales take different forms depending on the storyteller. Some like the Grimm Brothers keep all the gory details while others like Disney focus on the enchantment and wonder. Nowadays there may as well be a category under speculative fiction reserved for fairytale retellings. But it’s so hard to use one blanket label when you have fanciful adventures like Thief of Cahraman and grounded sci-fi like Cinder.
The Lunar Chronicles is a series I have to work to read. I’ll hit the middle of the book and simply can’t look further because I fear for the characters. Marissa Meyer’s writing is the kind that makes me feel like I can step into the page and interact with the world. Many of my dreams while reading the novel were me and some invented characters exploring her world and the problems faced by Cinder and her crew. Realistic characters can be difficult to write, but they’re certainly not a fairytale.
Cinder, the Mechanic who Wished to be Accepted
If you know the story of Cinderella, then you understand about a third of Cinder’s struggle. Yes, she has a rude stepmother and a couple step sisters. Yeah, she’s basically a slave. But what makes her unacceptable is her cybernetics.
Linh Cinder is a cyborg mechanic in an altered Europe where the scorned are part metal. She has no recollection of her parents or where she came from, only of her benefactor. She works to earn her place even though it’s quite obvious she’ll never belong. Meyer’s does a beautiful job of showing this unfairness through the side characters that fill her world. Glaring looks, fast footsteps. A forcefield seems to appear around Cinder wherever she goes. That is, until someone needs something from her.
There’s actually quite a bit in the novel I’d love to talk about, but it wouldn’t carry the same weight as reading it for yourself. To sum up the ever lovely Cinder, she’s a girl trapped in a cage. No one comes near, and those who do tend to get hurt. Her journey is about learning to be loved rather than used.
And what better teacher than a troubled prince.
Kaito, the Prince who Wished for Answers
Every fairytale needs a charming prince. Disney has featured many no name cardboard cutouts that make little girls squeal, but Kaito isn’t one of these. Like Cinder, we’re dragged into his story arc, hoping and praying he doesn’t get killed in the process of politics.
Our young prince is dealing with a two-pronged attack: disease in the streets and the Lunar queen wanting a union. The united world looks to him for answers, as does his people and perhaps the world as a whole. Yet he has none. He’s barely a functioning king, doing what he can to keep the peace and buy time for a miracle. He knows the games that are being played, the chess pieces shifting to close him on and reduce his options. Nevertheless, there’s few moves at his disposal.
Geez, now I wanna talk about Scarlet and Cress, but those are later books. We get part of Kaito’s timid waltz in Cinder, though it doesn’t fully realize itself until later. And by fully realize, I mean that I’m not reading with bated breath expecting his plot armor to fail on the next page. Kaito is a man trapped in a dangerous dance, trying to balance duty and desire when he’s not particularly sure of either. This indecision, however, doesn’t prevent the ladies from swooning.
Or the robots.
Iko, the Robot who Wished to be Human
I personally believe the robot apocalypse is upon us. People wander the streets with phones in their faces, preferring augmented reality to the real deal. I, Robot is a favorite movie of mine, spurring many fantasies of destroying every device in existence.
That said, I love Iko. She is Cinder’s perky robot who always has the right one-liner. Where Cinder is quite serious and tomboy-ish, Iko is girly and romantic. But this lovely AI dreams of an android form, something more human than her current appearance. As AI, she can install into anything, but finding an empty android within their price range is basically impossible.
And even if she achieved this dream, it still wouldn’t make her human. She understands love and attraction, can spin words that make a heart swoon. But she doesn’t have any of these emotions, can’t feel them for another person. She mirrors Cinder’s dilemma of not belonging, but where Cinder can eventually fit in, Iko can never.
Which somehow brings me back to I, Robot. Sonny, the android in the film, mirrors so much of humanity with free will and dreams. But something as nuanced as winking is a binary “do this to mean this.” Honestly, these characters are great because they make the humans feel even more human.
Why Cinder’s Ensemble Works
Most books I read, I scarf them down like chocolate cake. Cinder and the rest of the Lunar Chronicles are a puzzle. I desire to read them, but my fear for the characters is so great that I don’t. I want them to live in their safety zone, on the brink of doing something stupid or risky. If I keep going, I don’t know if they’ll make it. At the point I do read on, I’m following them into the unknown.
Beginning of 2025 has been days of discomfort for me. Work transitions, new connections, fresh ideas. I cringe when I think about all the things I STILL have to work on. I don’t want to turn the page for fear that something will go horribly wrong. But I keep reading the story of my life, taking a step further beyond my comfort zone.
Marissa Meyer’s characters jump off the page because they mirror real life. There’s no legitimate plot armor, just characters fighting to stay alive and gain the right consequences. It’s not a fairytale, and that’s what makes it so wonderful to read.