The overwhelming noise of hundreds of thoughts hammer into Sophie Foster’s mind, a power she’s been burdened with hiding since she was five years old. No one knows, and no one ever will. Or, that’s what she thinks before she encounters a boy with striking teal eyes who seems to know everything she’s been trying to cover up – a boy who tells her she’s an elf and that they’ve been looking for her, whoever they may be. Although this may sound like the beginning of a fever dream, it’s actually the start of the Keeper of the Lost Cities (KOTLC) series by Shannon Messenger.
While the series itself is a whirlwind adventure, with Sophie Foster facing off against a secretive enemy organization called the Neverseen, many fans stay invested thanks to its utilization of the ‘Found Family’ and ‘Love Triangle’ tropes. In light of this, and the younger audience the books cater to, it’s easy to consider the characters in a shallow manner. However, this aspect of the books and the growing number of those that prevents the fleshing out of characters’ individuality is a large flaw throughout the series which is reflected in the fandom’s strong opinions.
Starting off with worldbuilding, what is initially striking is the strange perfection that acts as the base of elvin society. Unlike the human world Sophie is raised in, the elvin cities, by contrast, are showered in riches and beauty. Every elf is born with a birth fund and wealth, and characters work only to keep busy. However, we quickly come to realize that this world isn’t as flawless as it seems, and every elf lives and works based on a series of deep-rooted prejudices such as being born with a magical ability versus being deemed ‘Talentless’ (with no abilities). Talentless elves are moved from the prestigious university Foxfire to Exillium, which is just as foreboding and inhospitable as it sounds. In slowly revealing these cracks in the elvin mask of utopia, Messenger gives meaning to the villains’ plight and hunger for power.
However, the masterful presentation used to set the stage for the characters outshines the execution of the characters themselves. The first example of flawed character development is the main character Sophie Foster, a kind, shy, and indecisive young girl whom the story centers around. Though excessively overpowered with five special abilities in a world where one or two is the norm, she remains humble and more burdened by her power than anything else. Thanks to the family-friendly plot armor of the main group of ‘good’ characters, her worry and indecisiveness when creating plans poses no issues and instead writes her off as a character who can do no wrong.
In establishing Sophie as a beacon of goodwill, however, the pacing of the books crawls along as she lacks risk-taking skills and innovation. Despite her clear stance as a leader in progress amongst her peers due to her remarkable powers and unique upbringing, she fails to adapt to this role and instead half of the plot narrates her worries instead of how she aims to take action. Yet, these are never presented as flaws and instead are shown as an extension of her superior compassion. Side characters, such as Stina Heks, often criticize her authority, but are dismissed as annoying or overly condemning characters. Additionally, despite repeated obstacles where she and her friends fall behind the Neverseen, her approach never changes, and she remains the same stressed girl introduced at the beginning of the series.
The Neverseen’s immoral outlooks and lack of attachment between members make them formidable opponents. However, Sophie is the most powerful elf in existence, and she’s surrounded by friends who are also uniquely strengthened, making her significant losing streak in the battles against the enemy rather ludicrous. This stretching of the storyline based on Sophie’s inability to innovate is masked by the family-friendly concept of plot armor. While it’s normal for main characters to be invulnerable, in Sophie’s case, it hides the fact that she simply does not have the mental capability to match the Neverseen in a fight. Therefore, in ensuring the readers always stay on Sophie’s side, Messenger fails to properly establish conflict and therefore creates both a boring main character and an increasingly repetitive, discouraging plot.
Another example of weak character building is Fitz Vacker, the boy Sophie is found by at the beginning of the series. After finding Sophie and guiding her to her new home, he is introduced as the golden child of the famous Vacker family, who holds a celebrity-like status amongst the elvin community. Additionally, before Sophie, he was the youngest telepath to ever manifest his ability amongst the elves, and his gorgeous home is modeled to scream the acme of the elven world.
However, this first impression begins to fade, and we reach a turning point at KOTLC Book Two: Exile, when Fitz’s father (Alden Vacker)’s mind shatters from guilt, an elven injury similar to death. Following Alden’s accident, Fitz immediately lashes out at the closest person involved: Sophie. Blaming her for the incident and shunning her amongst their friends before shutting her out opens up a new perspective on Fitz that is expanded on in the next books.
Although this is a valuable and realistic aspect of Fitz’s personality that he discusses with Sophie and works to better understand, for many readers, this was an overwhelming flaw that threw Fitz from the series’ golden boy to the most disliked character of the books. While this flaw could’ve been explored and expanded upon, Messenger instead began to use it as a tool to manipulate the love triangle trope and get Fitz out of the picture. However, through this, she turned him into a greatly irredeemable character that seemed unrealistic in his development timeline.
In the following books, she only pushes this image further, riling up readers by causing more issues between him and Sophie as they grow closer. Amongst the book’s audience, this was the end to any possibility of Fitz’s redemption. Ironically, more people discussed this problem than his most detrimental act in the entire series: the indirect murder of his older brother. Fitz’s older brother Alvar had been proven to be working as part of the villains, or the Neverseen. When he later gets trapped in a suffocating tank, Fitz initially struggles to find a way to get him out. But then, as he later confesses to Sophie, he stops trying. He watches as he believes his older brother to suffocate and does nothing.
This is the real irredeemable moment for Fitz Vacker. Still, it feels like a stretch for Fitz’s character. He’s one to grow outwardly angry and hostile but he’s not a murderer. At this point, the readers have been pushed to dislike Fitz more and more that he’s almost become a villain-like character, a regretful choice since his multifaceted personality and outward struggle could’ve been a valuable teaching point for young readers and was instead used as a scapegoat to set up the ending of the love triangle dragged on throughout the books.
While Keeper of the Lost Cities is definitely an intriguing and elaborate series, it fails on multiple accounts to flesh out characters and their flaws, and instead feeds into the quick reactions of young readers. Depth is thrown away in exchange for popular tropes and hooks. The passionate reactions readers have to fleeting issues versus serious problems show the lack of care for characters’ realistic traits that was only further encouraged by Messenger. Though showing promise in the character’s journey and adventures, the series disappoints in expressing the character’s emotions and overall development.
