The Last Review of “The Last Olympian”

Well, really the last review of the whole Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. Because as the Fates would have it, The Last Olympian came in on my library hold right before I was about to leave Toronto for a couple months. So I had to go all the way to the bottom of the hold list again. Three months later (i.e., last week)  it was finally my turn again. And this time, you better believe I read the whole thing within a couple days of taking it out. Your move, Toronto Public Library.

So, the story. Perseus, aka Percy, Jackson has behavioural problems, is dyslexic, and can’t manage to stay at the same school for more than a year. But don’t worry, this isn’t one of those hard-hitting books where the main character slowly forms a meaningful relationship with a gruff school janitor/stray dog/free-spirited new kid. No, Percy’s difficulties  stem from a supernatural source: he’s a demigod, the child of one of the mythical Greek deities and a mortal parent. Which, you have to admit, is much cooler. See also: Hercules (not the Disney version, though), the original Perseus, Theseus, etc.

Not only is Percy special among normal people like you and me, he’s even special among the special people. See, when he goes to Camp Half-Blood, the institution run by Dionysus and Chiron to protect and train young demigods, he discovers that he’s the only mortal child of – well, to tell you would be to rob you of the joy of finding out yourself. But, anyway, not only is Percy in a class by himself, but the Titans are gearing up for war with Olympus under the leadership of the evil Kronos, and there’s a mysterious Delphic prophecy that identifies Percy as having an important role to play in the battle to come.

Rick Riordan does a great job mixing in Greek myth with a modern-day setting, and he convincingly explains why it is that nobody notices this epic battle raging all around them. Half the fun is meeting someone who’s clearly a Greek hero or diety in her modern guise and trying to figure out her true identity before the story reveals it. Riordan also helpfully imagines monsters that dissolve into sand and must regenerate when “killed”, allowing us to whoop with our heroes when they draw their swords without feeling like bloodthirsty maniacs.

Percy’s a great character, which is important because this story is told in the first person, so whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with him over all five volumes. He’s brave and resourceful, and his narration has attitude that can make you laugh. He takes the downsides that come with being a demigod in stride, and he really cares about his friends. Riordan’s also skilled at having Percy explain things to the reader without making it feel like “la la la exposition time!”. (Although, to be fair, I might think this only because it took me so long to read through the series – maybe if I’d swept through the books, I’d be annoyed by the repetition.)

It’s also kind of refreshing that, by the end of the series, there’s a love triangle with the guy in the middle, with two actual realistic female characters (as opposed to the whole swap-the-colour-palette-and-Betty-is-Veronica deal) who could both be a great match for Percy, and who both manage to read as love interests without throwing themselves all over him.

If Percy Jackson and the  Olympians has one shortcoming, it’s that Riordan never actually convinces me that Percy’s on the right side. He offers superficial reasons why it’s better for humanity to have the gods in charge than the Titans, and he has Percy make some important changes to the way things are run by the end of the story, but what seems to be the gods’ main problem – that they’re selfish, self-important, deadbeat, lecherous douchebags* with little to no concern for other people’s psychological wellbeing, not even when those other people are their spouses, lovers, or children – is never really resolved**.

I’m happy to accept that the gods could have unconventional moral criteria (like if Zeus and Hera agreed to an open marriage, hey, fine, whatever works for them), but not that they purposely deceive and hurt others just because they think their powers entitle them to do so.  Your mileage may vary, but by the end of the series, I felt that, while I preferred the gods to evil Kronos, I’d rather have someone else completely different in charge.

I’ll also admit that I don’t feel connected to Percy or his friends in the same way I feel connected to my very favourite characters from other stories. I enjoy the time I spend with them, but I don’t think about them when I’m not reading about them. However, a) again: your mileage may vary; and b) they’re still vivid on the page, enough that when I pick up a book three months after I’ve read its prequel, I don’t need a reminder as to who these people are, why some of them would make good couples, and what they’re doing running around with swords and magic baseball caps.

In any case, Percy Jackson and the Olympians is a slick, fast-paced, action-packed series with tons to recommend it: engaging characters, interesting mythology, and the one-two punch combo of wicked sense of humour and timing. Fun read!

* Who, apparently, learned nothing in sex ed about birth control.

** By the end of the story,we learn that the divine parent of the story’s main demigod antagonist does care about that character but was prevented from showing it by laws to which the gods are bound; however, to this reader, at least, there still seem to be at least a dozen alternate actions open to that deity that were just ignored.