A magical retelling of a favorite classic, The Weight of Feathers masterfully weaves a story of familial expectations with the desires of one's heart. By deviating from its source inspiration in exciting and thoughtful ways, McLemore develops a story about making your own choices, defining your own destiny, becoming who you were always meant to be. A stunning debut novel, The Weight of Feathers is a thought-provoking and lyrical read, one that will not leave you, even after the final page has closed.
Anna-Marie McLemore is a queer, nonbinary, Latinx author who grew up hearing la Ilorona in the Santa Ana Winds. Their books include William C. Morris YA Debut Award Finalist The Weight of Feathers; Stonewall Honor Book When the Moon Was Ours, which was longlisted for the National Book Award; Wild Beauty, a Kirkus, Booklist, and School Library Journal Best Book of 2017; Blanca & Roja, a New York Times Book Review Editors' Choice; and Dark and Deepest Red, a Winter 2020 Kids' Indie Next List title. You can find Anna at author.annamariemclemore.com. You can find more of my reviews of their works here.
The Palomas and the Corbeaus have long been rivals and enemies, locked in an escalating feud for more than a generation. Both families make their living as traveling performers in competing shows—the Palomas swimming in mermaid exhibitions, the Corbeaus, former tightrope walkers, performing in the tallest trees they can find. Lace Paloma may be new to her family's show, but she knows as well as anyone that the Corbeaus are pure magia negra, black magic from the devil himself. Simply touching one could mean death, and she's been taught since birth to keep away. But when disaster strikes the small town where both families are performing, it's a Corbeau boy, Cluck, who saves Lace's life. And his touch immerses her in the world of the Corbeaus, where falling for him could turn his own family against him, and one misstep could be just as dangerous on the ground as it is in the trees. Beautifully written and richly imaginative, The Weight of Feathers is an utterly captivating young adult novel.
Romeo and Juliet is my favorite Shakespeare play, so of course I am obsessed with finding Romeo and Juliet retellings and seeing where they draw from and deviate from the original text. The basis for The Weight of Feathers in Romeo and Juliet is easy enough to spot: the warring families, and the idea of familial expectations of both of the lead characters. Yet, that's about where I'd say the blatant similarities end (unless we talk about the brevity of the chapters and of the novel itself, which reflects the very fast-paced and "numbered" feeling of the original play). Spoilers: the main pair doesn't die, McLemore does not incorporate Romeo's ignorance into Cluck's character nor do they decide to include an overhaul forgiveness type scene at the end (a triumph of this retelling which I will include in the last paragraph of this review). Instead, Cluck and Lace are on equal footing, both of them exploring what their identities mean within the information boundaries they have. My favorite part of this retelling is that rather than trying to follow the plot to a T (star-crossed lovers meeting, wedding secretly, then trying to escape the toxicity of their families but dying in the process), McLemore focuses more on the stories of identity surrounding the characters. At the same time, the foundational "warring families" plot point means that we're actually working our way to the center of a mystery—something happened twenty or so years ago that we need to know about to know why the families hate each other so much. So while it may be easy to chart the plot of this novel if you wanted to, the story itself is just as rich as Romeo and Juliet without sacrificing any time of uniqueness by modeling itself a bit after it.
I've always thought of magical realism as a genre that's hard to explain and hard to understand. That is, until I found McLemore's novels—they make magical realism as a genre more accessible to those trying to understand and explain the genre's merits. The Palomas and the Corbeaus both has a sort of magical manifestation of their heritage: the Palomas have birthmarks shaped like coins that are blessings from a river goddess, while the Corbeaus grow feathers from the back of their necks. In the world of this book, these magical manifestations reflect the families' differing performances gives the beginning for the basis of their rivalry. The fact that one family has control of the waters while the other has control of the skies is the perfect metaphor for how the rivalry between the two families controls every single person involved in the rivalry. No one can escape the waters or the sky—they are just stuck as part of this rivalry for the rest of their life. These physical boundaries are ones that Lace and Cluck push up against at the highest points in the novel, boundaries they cannot escape until they determine that the boundaries don't exist for them. This is what makes the magical realism so brilliant, is McLemore's wise and subtle way of incorporating the physical (the powers, the landscape of the differences of the families) into the emotional and mental (the familial expectations on Lace and Cluck, namely).
The ending may confuse some, which making perfect sense in a muted way to others. I will not say that I know exactly what the ending means, but I will chart out my own interpretation here. Once Cluck knows the truth of his heritage, he is pulled in two different directions, yet belonging in neither. Lace, who has already chosen Cluck as her present and future, it similarly pulled in those directions with him. Once they get to the forest, they escape up to the tree tops, to form a plan or wait out their realities below. Lora does in fact turn into feathers—once she has spoken her truth, and said exactly what she wanted to say to her son, she is at peace and can find rest. The fact that a Paloma could turn into feathers (red-tinted ones) gives Lace and Luc all they need to know: they have a blessing to make their own story. While feathers in general turn them away from Palomas, red-tinted ones make Cluck the devil of the Corbeaus. But because red-tinted feathers exist, they can find their own path. They can only do it by shedding the rivalry between their families off their hearts, and escape from the physical boundaries I mentioned above. They do this by sharing a kiss in the treetops that defies all the rules the families set for them. What I love about this is that this neither forces the families to accept Lace and Luc, nor does it force the families to forgive one another. In fact, both families just turn away from Lace and Luc, shedding any responsibility for them while also not caring to face the fact that they don't have to be enemies. The way this differs from Romeo and Juliet while also maintaining the spirit of it is fantastic. In the original play, there is a great show of forgiveness but not actually any promises of maintaining it. Here, the Palomas and Corbeaus don't attempt to do anything they don't believe in, but they do let Lace and Luc decide their own futures. Thus, the last few paragraphs of them driving off into their future, where they go live the life that Alain Corbeau could not live.
Anna-Marie McLemore has an incredible list of books to their name, all of which would make a next perfect read. Check out my reviews of their works here.
*This review can also be found on my Goodreads page*
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