HEARTLESS — The Queen of Hearts Backstory We Didn't Want But Needed
The parents were the real villains don't @ me
Catherine may be one of the most desired girls in Wonderland, and a favorite of the unmarried King of Hearts. A talented baker, all she wants is to open a shop with her best friend. But according to her mother, such a goal is unthinkable for the young woman who could be the next queen.
Then Cath meets Jest, the handsome and mysterious court joker. For the first time, she feels the pull of true attraction. At the risk of offending the king and infuriating her parents, she and Jest enter into an intense, secret courtship. Cath is determined to define her own destiny and fall in love on her terms. But in a land thriving with magic, madness, and monsters, fate has other plans.
I love fairytales. I grew up with all sorts, from Asian folktales to Irish horror, stories of the fantastical and unknown hold a very special place in my heart. But in a world where conglomerate media companies *cough* Disney *cough* are falling back onto remakes of old tales for filler content while they come up with the next all-frills Academy Award winner, I was doubtful of the value-add Heartless could provide to the fascinating world Lewis Carroll already built.
Man, I was so wrong.
When I closed this book I was sobbing bawling my eyes out. Never in my life has a book made me feel the way this did at the end. It affected me so much I did not have the heart (hah!) to start on another book for the next three days because I actually needed time to mourn.
Naturally, I pulled up Goodreads because I wanted to know what people think about this wonderful, flawless story, and was surprised to learn that quite a large number of people, or at least the most-voted reviews, did not share my sentiments. I then started compulsively picking out its flaws and shortcomings, and decided that the book is not as great as I thought.
Two weeks later, after stewing in my emotions, I changed my tune again. This book did put my heart through the wringer, but I’ve come to realise that it’s not because of the romance. Heartless is a visceral journey of ambition and heartbreak, but also an unexpected exploration of the butterfly effect of actions-and-consequences, and the emotional and mental limits of human resolve. Let me explain.
❛We're all mad here.❜ — 𝗜𝗻 𝗗𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗪𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱
Heartless is serial-series-writer Marissa Meyer's first standalone book. It is essentially a retelling of the infamous Queen of Hearts, who made her first appearance in Lewis Carroll's 1865 novel Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Meyer builds on his Wonderland (and I'm also sensing some inspiration from Disney's 1951 movie) to reimagine a gloriously topsy-turvy world full of characters with personality, humour, and spunk.
Lady Catherine Pinkerton, the main character and ill-fated daughter of the Marquess of Turtle Cove, is bubbling with life and hope, albeit incredibly naïve and annoyingly earnest. Meyer cleverly counters these grating traits with scenes that demonstrate the size of Catherine’s cojones: she doesn’t hesitate to question authority, ask for what she wants, and, at one point, sever dear friendships. She is stubborn but not maddeningly so (I mean, massive Taurus energy), and sometimes says the wrong things at the wrong time. I enjoyed Catherine specifically for these reasons.
Imperfection imitates real life. Imperfection is ideal, particularly in literature — most novels are either an exploration of or testimony to the human condition, sometimes inadvertently. Imperfection helps to colour in fictional characters, protagonist or antagonist, with personality and nuance, just like real-life people.
Amidst the fripperies and oddities of Wonderland, I think it’s easy to forget that Catherine is, firstly, a teenage girl, and secondly, a literal villain-in-the-making. Her actions are meant to lead to disastrous consequences. If she had done everything perfectly, there would be no Queen of Hearts and no rolling heads!
The way she meets Jest is quite insta-lovey, but not so much that it is unbelievable. Jest is the king’s handsome, enigmatic — you guessed it! — court jester. He has a sharp tongue, doesn't hold back on the backhanded quips, and is shown to be capable of tenderness right from their racy first encounter. He also sports a hefty amount of eyeliner, as per 1800s-court-jester-love-interest (and now apparently TikTok e-boy) requirements. You’re lying if you tell me you wouldn't be at least a little intrigued, if not completely enamoured. With Jest, I mean. Not TikTok e-boys.
One common gripe I’ve seen is Meyer's inclusion of characters from other literary works such as the Raven from Edgar Allan Poe's poem The Raven, and the changed roles of famous Wonderland inhabitants like the permanently-zooted, hookah-smoking Caterpillar. I personally don't have an issue with this because I believe it all to be a calculated decision on Meyer's end. Certain characters were integral to Catherine’s journey to villainhood, and some were not. Besides, I think we can all agree that killing your darlings is never fun — Meyer did what had to be done.
I thought she did the Chesire Cat dirty, though. In this version of the story, Cheshire is funnier and much less infuriating than others. His banter with Catherine was delightful to read but he disappeared mid-way through the story for a good portion. I really wish she did more with him!
That said, Meyer did a good job with rejigging some of the characters of Wonderland. The characters she dimmed down did not impact the story significantly, and the characters she fleshed out did.
For example, one of the subplots involves Peter Peter, the titular character from the children's rhyme Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater, and the Jabberwocky. Some didn’t get the point of this subplot or why these characters even exist here, only for the whole thing to snowball into the Final Boss of plot points.
Lots of people seemingly had a problem with this. The common consensus is that her sudden switch to becoming evil was too sudden, unexpected, and unwarranted. I want to refute this, after addressing the Jabberwock in the room: Pacing.
❛It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.❜ — 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗷𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴?
Meyer's writing is nothing short of imaginative and absorbing. She has a particular knack for describing food in such mouth-watering detail you can practically smell those steaming, fresh-out-the-oven lemon tarts through the pages. Her decisions on when to omit inconsequential details and when to extol the magic of her reimagined world are pretty sound.
There were no mind-numbing play-by-plays of characters moving about, which is always appreciated. There was once or twice (or thrice) in which details that were needed to cobble the scene together appear to be missing, leaving me puzzled at how we arrived at Point C from Point A, but these instances are few and far between.
However, the third quarter of the book dragged on for wayyy longer than it should have, and here is where I'm inclined to agree that the book could be described as — in the loosest possible definition of the term — ‘boring’.
Before meeting Jest, Catherine had only one goal: to open a bakery with her best friend, Marry Ann, who also happens to be her maid. Her main obstacle is her parents, who are archetypal narcissists rabidly intent on marrying her off to the King of Hearts, a gormless, bumbling idiot who is inexplicably obsessed with Catherine because he... likes her baking?
We follow Catherine and Mary Ann as they pursue and exhaust every means to achieve this impossible dream. Meyer never loses sight of this, even after the romance is introduced, and shows Catherine fighting to make it happen right to the bitter end — but this comes with a price.
We're treated to repetitive scenes of Catherine coming one step closer, only to be sent reeling backward by her body-shaming, emotionally-inept mother. On more than one occasion, Catherine is presented with the opportunity to stand up for herself and Jest but does not. This, in particular, made the folk of Goodreads BIG MAD.
I get it — it may be difficult to see 'where this is all going' because nothing much is happening most of the time. 40% of the plot is Catherine trying her best to get her sweet shop, and the other 40% is her and Jest playing tug-of-war with their resolves: Yes, we'll be together forever! No, we can never be together, leave me alone. We have to try! No, we can't! Yes, we can! It can be frustrating to read, and at times I was yelling at my poor Kindle screen for them to just stop this faffing and make a move.
But come on, are we really expecting the seventeen-year-old daughter of a Marquess, who, while somewhat pampered, undeniably grew up in a toxic and abusive environment, and has since birth been Pavlov-ed by her oppressive parents into acquiescence, to suddenly get up and pull a Juliet with her eyeliner-wearing star-crossed lover?
Also, why do we keep forgetting that this is a villain backstory? Her actions are meant to have negative consequences, and I think Meyer effectively uses this repetition to seed and build up to the ending.
Because the remaining 20% of the book is where shit starts to get real.
***MASSIVE SPOILERS AHEAD***
❛I wish I hadn't cried so much!❜ — 𝗖𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗰𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗧𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗱𝘆
For the entirety of the story we are forced to spectate every single one of Catherine's attempts and failures, and every time we think she's going to (or should) tap out, she gets up and swings back another punch. It's like a rubber band being pulled further and further, and you're wondering why it isn't snapping.
Until it finally does.
Remember the Peter Peter storyline? When it first makes its introduction in the first quarter of the book and even as the story progresses, it seems insignificant and inconsequential. In actuality, Meyer has been breadcrumbing us with it, slowly but surely, towards the shocking, SHOCKING climax. A pre-meditated move on Meyer's part, and a highly effectual one at that.
The last few chapters pile on the devastation swiftly and furiously, and the snapback gave me such a whiplash I was rendered immobile for almost a minute. I'm not even exaggerating. I covered my mouth, put my Kindle down, and lay blinking in the dark in disbelief at the events that had just occurred.
But what did it for me was what happened after the tragedy.
The heartbreak Catherine is forced to experience is so raw and animalistic that it felt as if it were happening to me. Or maybe it’s because I’m an eMpAtH 🤪 But seriously, it was so heart-wrenching that it felt like my own chest was splitting apart. And that is why her 'switch' from ingenious, well-meaning princess to cold, detached evil queen demanding the heads of white bunnies is completely believable — precisely because 'nothing was going on' in the first three-quarters of the book.
Catherine's transition to the Queen of Hearts isn't sudden at all; it didn't ‘come out of nowhere’. If one paid close attention (which I certainly hadn’t done on my first read) they would see that the genesis of her transformation began right at the beginning, and has been in the works for the first 80% of the novel, quietly boiling and brewing in the background. The death that occurs merely serves as the trigger point, and the ones who fail to recognise this get confused when it blows up in their faces.
❛I almost wish I hadn't gone down the rabbit-hole, and yet...❜ — 𝗔 𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲
Heartless was never intended to be a straightforward good-guy-turned-bad tragedy. Meyer wanted to challenge her main character, to see how far she could push her until she breaks. Catherine is constantly poked and prodded, forced to walk tightropes corded by expectations, sexism, and social norms of nineteenth-century Europe.
I also have to mention her portrayal of the unique dynamics of abusive parent-child relationships, which deserves its own separate piece, honestly. Scenes with Catherine’s weight-shaming, dream-stomping, dollar-sign-pupiled parents seem to be lifted straight from r/raisedbynarcisissts. Their daughter’s unmeasured emotional and mental responses to their words and actions are approached frankly and realistically, no matter how insufferable, and I think that is important when dealing with such topics.
Not only was Meyer able to capture the emotional dilemmas of a teen, she succeeded in translating the impacts of their consequences into a make-believe world while maintaining some level of entertainment value (as sadistic as that sounds).
And so, despite being set in a world where nonsense prevails, Catherine's story is very reminiscent of our own personal lives, and also sparks thought on larger questions about boundaries, abusive relationships, and Fate. We continuously strive to be good people (or at least I hope so), but how much is too much? Where do we draw the line for ourselves? Is it even for us to decide, or do we take on a passive role and simply allow it to be determined by external circumstances (i.e. wait for ourselves to snap)?
❛Off with their heads!❜ — 𝗙𝗹𝗮𝘄𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴
Yes, it's true there were some opportunities that slipped through Meyer’s fingers, and one of the subplots is so flimsy I could poke through it with a dandelion head. But her careful charting of Catherine’s journey to villainhood, coupled with the thoughtful weaving of the fabric of her Wonderland, allowed her to tell a captivating story that had me hooked from the introduction.
Catherine’s Shakespearean romance with Jest tugged at my heartstrings, and if one is able to dig deeper and take the time to mark the trajectory of her character development, they might find that though her arc is slow, it is authentic, and that to me is what matters most.
At the end of the day, Heartless is a retelling of a fictional tale about singing flowers and tea parties — it’s really not that serious.
However, its nuanced presentation of the duo-chromatic nature of love, friendships, and rivalry via Technicolour characters that aren't lazy caricatures riding on the backs of Carroll and Disney, is nothing short of a commendable feat.
It takes its time to unravel a poignant story of one of literature's most forgotten and overlooked villains, and it's safe to say I will never look at the Queen of Hearts the same way again.