Anne Elisabeth Stengl. Heartless. Bethany House, 2010.
Sometimes I am a sucker for fantasy or science fiction books that turn out to disappoint. I usually do not bother to review them here. I was not sure about Heartless—partly because the cover and publisher made it appear to be chick lit. I was profoundly surprised. This was a sharp and delightful story. It was very well written. For fantasy fans, this is a winner.
The prologue made me think of the Elizabethan classic The Faerie Queene. The main character’s name in the novel is Una. She was accompanied by a younger brother. This reminds the reader of Una in Spenser’s epic whose servant was a dwarf. But that was only in the prologue.
There were a few things that reminded me of the Narnia stories and A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and maybe even a bit of Jane Austen’s Persuasion. In other words, Heartless is its own story. As I went on, the novel began to remind me more and more of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, a profound fantasy story itself. (One can make a case that it was actually its author Samuel Taylor Coleridge who defined the term fantasy for us.)
While the story is not exactly an allegory, its names are significant. Some are obvious like the land of Farthestshore or the Southland. Una means “one” in many languages. In The Faerie Queene, Una represents truth, her name coming from the exclusivity of truth. Here Una is “the one.” She is King Fidel’s (meaning “faithful”) only daughter who is coming of age and beginning to have suitors. She is not the only teenage girl in history to look at men superficially, but as she gains understanding about relationships, we see something deeper going on.
A Brigadoon-like “Twelve Year Market” suddenly appears on the outskirts of their land of Parumvir (“man is small”). It has actually been centuries since the last one, but the legends survive. For a few days, sellers of all kinds peddle their magical objects—things like seven-league boots and automatons. As is usually the case, magic requires a price. Caught up in the excitement, Una will discover the price.
Shortly after the market disappears, the suitors arrive. She rejects a few. To one she promises to remain faithful while he, a prince, returns to his kingdom to restore things after a dragon’s depredations. This makes Una “heartless”—not in the sense that she is cruel, but that she has given her heart away, and the one who has it may not return for a long time. As the good book says, “Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life.” (Proverbs 4:23 KJV) What happens if we don’t keep, or guard, our hearts?
In this fantasy realm, the things that issue forth can be serious. At one point Una asks a jester a question:
“Have you ever dreamed of one thing for so long, wanted nothing more than to have that dream fulfilled, only to find out maybe it wasn’t what you actually wanted all along?”
He juggled four stones lightly. “I believe that is called growing up.” (145)
We will see how both Una and juggler “grow up.” The things that flow can be serious.
Among the serious issues of life in the story is the question of free will. Like a lot of fantasy, this story focuses on royalty—kings, princes, and princesses. Laertes in Hamlet believes that a prince is not always free to choose:
His greatness weigh’d; his will is not his own;
For he himself is subject to his birth;
He may not, as unvalued persons do,
Carve for himself… (1.2.17-20)
Yes, he may be constrained by politics, but what if the political dilemma is a moral one?
We begin to realize the tragedy of one of the princes (and maybe his whole kingdom) when he asks rhetorically, “I did what I had to do…What other choice could I make?…What other choice was there?” (282) Is “having no choice” really a valid excuse? Or are we all merely subject to fate? How predetermined are our lives? Does free will even exist?
It appears that our own Western culture is becoming more and more deterministic. What will it look like if it continues in that direction?
Of course, part of the plot does have something to do with the various suitors. Why do men want to marry princesses anyhow? (Or women, princes?) Money? Status? Political alliances? Power? As the cynical disco song once said, what does love have to do with it?
These are serious, and frankly, deep questions. How these are woven into a fantasy that includes dragons, monsters, fairies, knights, blind seers, and magical markets makes Heartless a well-told tale. Have fun.