Thirteen-year-old Aluna has lived her entire life under the ocean with the Coral Kampii in the City of Shifting Tides. But after centuries spent hidden from the Above World, her colony’s survival is at risk. The Kampii’s breathing necklaces are failing, but the elders are unwilling to venture above water to seek answers. Only headstrong Aluna and her friend Hoku are stubborn and bold enough to face the terrors of land to search for way to save their people. But can Aluna’s fierce determination and fighting skills and Hoku’s tech-savvy keep them safe? Set in a world where overcrowding has led humans to adapt – growing tails to live under the ocean or wings to live on mountains – here is a ride through a future where greed and cruelty have gone unchecked, but the loyalty of friends remains true.

-synopsis and cover art courtesy of goodreads.

Atmospheric Analysis: Above World has a lively, bright illustrated cover that does a good job of capturing the epic feel of the novel. However, I have to admit that this is one case where I was just itching for a look at our mermaid Kampii main characters–seems like a missed opportunity, here.

Planetary Class: Above World is a mythological quest story with a sci-fi twist–somewhat redolent of classic science fantasy like Flash Gordon, but with stronger science underpinnings.

Mohs Rating: The genetic modifications give Above World strong scientific underpinnings despite the presence of, you know, mermaids and centaurs and talking dogs. The specifics can be a little hand-wavey though, like in the magical pill that resequences your genetics to give you a mermaid tail. I’d place it between a 2 and a 3 on the Mohs scale.

Planetary Viability: Each of the individual societies in the Above World universe are well-developed and interesting (particularly that of the Kampii) but oh, how I longed for a world map. The interaction between these societies particularly felt a touch unclear. This may be the limitations of the genre, though–it’s probably hard to squeeze in that much worldbuilding into a middle grade novel

Xenolinguistical Assessment: Above World is told in two third-person perspectives. The language is light and lively, appropriate for its audience if not particularly flashy.

Expanded Report: Jenn Reese’s middle grade debut Above World reaffirmed my choice to start reviewing middle grade novels here at the Academy. This story of a young mermaid Kampii girl about to undergo her society’s adulthood ceremony where she will eat a magical seed that transforms her legs into a tail–and what happens when that girl decides to forgo this ritual instead to save her people–begins as any young adult fantasy story might. Aluna is YA heroine of a classic sort, one who sneaks weapons lessons behind her father’s back and who stubbornly refuses to accept the gender roles of her people. Her relationship with twelve-year-old Hoku is complex and tender. Hoku is more demur than his best friend, geekier and less world-weary, and passages told from his perspective were fairly refreshing. Though I liked Aluna right from the outset, she realistically lacks self-awareness; Hoku’s perceptive (and yet childlike) chapters were a nice counterpoint to Aluna’s single-mindedness.

The undersea society is built with nuance; gender roles are strictly determined by reproductive necessity rather than personal preference; the stagnating high council copes (or fails to cope) with their dying technology. The first chapters felt a bit like a better-developed, more plausible version of The Little Mermaid. However, here conflicts and motivations were much more urgently stated. Aluna doesn’t want to leave the Kampii because she’s bored or because of a boy–she wants to leave out of a stubborn and deep-seated desire to save her people.

However, once Aluna and Hoku venture out of their city, the novel takes a surprising turn. Though early chapters hint at science fictional underpinnings (there are corporate-branded breathing apparatuses and discussions of a long-lost founder), I honestly didn’t expect the depths [pun unintended, but noted] of the development of the wider world. Hoku and Aluna soon learn that theirs isn’t the only society of genetically modified chimeras–soon, they meet bird people and horse people and even mechanical crab people.

This busy, diverse universe–so different from ours–provided my only real stumbling block. As they travel across their world, it all started to feel a bit like a busy jumble. A few of the modified offshoots of humanity were difficult to visualize, and I often felt like I was just getting to know one little pocket of society when I was whisked away to learn about another. But still, this world was a rich one to utilize as a backdrop to a middle grade novel, and if the length of the book meant that we didn’t get a ton of breathing room between settings and events, well, then, it’s understandable.

What kept me reading were the tender and honest relationships between the characters–not just between Hoku and Aluna (though their platonic friendship was great), but their eventual romantic interests, as well. The romance here is light and mostly chaste, though it feels like we might be in for something a little deeper and perhaps messier in subsequent books in the series. Aluna herself seems to be in for some big changes by novel’s end.

And Above World itself gets darker and darker as the novel proceeds. A few months ago, I compared Greg van Eekhout’s The Boy at the End of the World to The Wizard of Oz. Like van Eekhout’s novel, Reese’s is a picaresque, with our characters going on a long journey across series of exotic locales. But the wild and sometimes scary creatures (did I mention that there’s a mechanical crab woman?) are more the stuff of low-octane nightmare fuel like Return to Oz. Our villain Fathom, like Mombi, is out for parts. It’s really quite scary, in the best, and most riveting way.

Above World is a great sci-fi tale for the middle grade reader–both girls and boys should find something to enjoy here in its rich universe, relatable characters, and accessible voice. It’s available tomorrow from Amazon, Barnes & Noble and your local indie bookstore.