I am now quite far removed from the target demographic for Rick Riordan’s work. Still, I enjoyed most of his books that were released when I was the correct age to enjoy them, and so when I received a free copy of Daughter of the Deep as a gift, I decided to give it a go and see how his writing holds up. To be frank, I was not impressed. The original Percy Jackson and the Olympians series will always hold a special place in my heart, but Daughter of the Deep just confirmed my suspicions about Rick Riordan. As time has gone on, he’s become too simple and snarky, to the point that it detracts and distracts from the story he is trying to tell. So is the case with Daughter of the Deep. There are flashes of a great work buried within, but this book is marred by surface-level characters and a style of prose that is much more tell than show.
Daughter of the Deep is Rick Riordan’s usual type of story – a young tween discovers they are part of a hidden world thought to be myth, but this time, rather than any form of actual mythology, he applies this trope to Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Now, to be truthful, I have never read Jules Verne. I always knew his works were touted as classics, but I had and have so many other stories I would rather read, I’ve never found the time. Nevertheless, this concept produced an interesting foundation for worldbuilding, which is one of the positive aspects of this story in my opinion. The idea to mythologize 20,000 Leagues and then turn it into an urban fantasy-sci-fi setting was unlike anything else I have ever read, and it kept me engaged throughout. I was excited to discover the new technologies and hidden secrets along with the characters, especially since I had no previous knowledge from Verne’s novels from which they originated.
However, the rest of this book left much to be desired. Firstly, while I felt the plot was average, I was hoping for more time to be spent in the fictional school of Harding-Pencroft, the supposed academy for the nautical students. I yearned to see life in that part of the setting, to see how the characters interacted and lived in this secret world. Instead, most of the book takes place elsewhere, and I was left feeling just as displaced as the characters.
Speaking of the characters, I personally did not connect with any of them in a significant way. Sure, the story and theme of a younger sibling suddenly thrust into the limelight that was supposed to be occupied by her older brother was a compelling idea, but the dialogue and internal monologue of Anna Dakkar did no favors in making her seem likeable. She wasn’t abysmal, but she also didn’t feel too heroic.
But, the worst sin Daughter of the Deep commits is telling instead of showing. Throughout primary and secondary schooling, all English/Language Arts teachers repeat the same cliché: Show, Don’t Tell. Yet, Rick Riordan does the exact opposite all throughout this book. Setting aside the fact that Daughter of the Deep is in first-person present tense, a strange choice to be sure, the entire novel is rife with characters telling us things. They tell us how they feel, they tell us how things work, they tell us things they already know. It is a simple, yet glaring mistake for a writer of Rick Riordan’s caliber, and one that feels like it could’ve been fixed if he’d just had a few more people around him who were willing to say “no”. It makes Daughter of the Deep feel amateur, unpolished, and much too direct.
I am fully aware that Daughter of the Deep is a middle grade book. That doesn’t mean I cannot critique it, though. While the worldbuilding and potential was certainly there, the book lacked deep characters, a stable setting, and most of all, subtle, indirect prose. Riordan’s prior works, especially his earliest books, were always meta and fun, but they still felt professional. Daughter of the Deep, meanwhile, felt rushed, under-edited, or both.
Russell A. Wells 