RATING: 4 stars to A Thousand Pieces of You ★ ★ ★ ★
'Mathematics or fate: Whatever that force is that keeps bringing us together in world after world, it's powerful. Undeniable. But I still don't know whether that force means my salvation or my destruction.'
'The possibilities crash into one another; the emotions tie themselves into Gordian knots. A thousand ways for me to love and doubt and lose Paul Markov, and I feel like I'm only starting to discover them all.'
A Thousand Pieces of You is precisely the type of book I would have read (should have read) in my Shatter Me days when the YA era raged on into the souls of its audience and the epoch became defined by a set of literary stylistic hallmarks that gushed a fanatic trend. I can't say I remember the concept of the multiverse being thrown about like a mainstream stimulant however. How fun that this speculative piece of sci-fi fiction where dimensional parallels have been proven by and for science for a very observable audience took a departure from the norm. Like Shatter Me, A Thousand Pieces of You does play to a unique conceptual setting. Speculative play brings the theory of parallel universes to life with this trilogy opener. Also like Shatter Me, there's a love triangle, but that sounds like a defective term without considering relativity; to the entire science of parallel dimensions (and your parallel duplicates). I could definitely go on a tangent. They're both Sci-Fi/dystopian-ish but in different ways. Aaron Warner's not quite the academically gifted student to a pioneering physicist, though he is a multi-talented prodigy in his own aptitude, an unmatched leader of his region, misunderstood, private and socially aloof like one Russian Paul Markov, though I think fashionista Warner would frown aghast with great issue at such lack of an extensive wardrobe. Green jumpers anyone? Adam Kent is... nothing like charismatic bad-boy-with-a-good-heart Theo Beck, and I think we should leave that poorly approached symmetry there because to make a juxtaposition here would be akin to setting the moon next to the sun. And where Juliette Ferrars had a lethal touch, Marguerite...doesn't, but she does have digits made for fine art. Clearly, the narrower we get, the similarities dissolve, but sweepingly? They were babies of a similar age. For obvious reasons I'm not here to comparatively examine both books but there's a simple explanation for that: the original Shatter Me Trilogy was a sacrosanct soundtrack above most other fictional melodies for me, a series I've been mulling over a lot recently. What Claudia Gray does give us though is a very unique situation in a multiverse romance that spans dimension and searches across worlds for the truth. Not forgetting the bigger conspiracy that begins with a death, a betrayal, and a justice mission as Marguerite and one third of that love triangle make a hasty decision to track down a murderer (aka, the final third to that love triangle).
A bit of backstory:
Testing out the sensational piece of construction that is the era's most miraculous contraption - materialised beyond every doubt - and transcendentally living the discovery that her parents' impossible invention actually works feels like a small victory in the face of a certain death. Mind made up, travelling through alternate universe channels isn't an experimental achievement for a young artist. It's a quest to avenge. Marguerite's on a multiverse mission. One fuelled by the epicentre of the grief ripping through her. Grief stabbing her from moment to moment and moved by rage, loss and justice for her parents, their reputation and hard-earned scientific legacy, she's driven to give chase through every parallel universe she has to. Alongside her parents' other research assistant, Theo Beck, they're to apprehend Paul Markov, who turned from ingenuous student and friend to murderer in the space of a day. To trace his every step and make him pay for an unbelievable betrayal. Not only is he a thief in possession of her parents' priceless prototype that would change the course of modernity, he's responsible for splintering her family to pieces. This was supposed to be a triumph for the Caine family, her parents breakthrough changemakers of dimensional physics, but now she only hopes quiet, unassuming Paul's days are numbered. She's the same Marguerite, hunting the truth in a very unconventional fashion, jumping from one alternative timeline to the next, one life to the other, exposed to multiple lives that are not her own while she wears the skin of each multiverse twin. Following Paul through the endlessly infinite collection of potential universes might seem ambitious but It's only a reflection of the lengths Marguerite would go to in aid of her loved ones.
A Thousand Pieces is You corals the quintessence of the teen YA generation. If you fan-personed yourself through the popularisation of the young adult craze of classics you'll likely enjoy this too. The concept is a big thumbs up. It has a really strong plot-based opening that doesn't waste its breath in getting to the point. I was intrigued and wildly entertained. It's also fairly fast-paced which buttresses the mystery/suspense elements and the following inter-dimensional chase to track Marguerite's father's murderer. Can we scream conspiracy? yes, yes we can. Can we equally bellow the overarch of a dimension-spanning love affair? To the bottom of our lungs. Fair warning for readers: this isn't the sort of full-potential, densely philosophical plot/worldbuilding tour de force of intrigue that it might be expected to be with the allotted themes included. The unique combination of the premise, the mesmeric cover illustration that speaks to the vantage of an artistic Marguerite and a promise of parallel universe travel is a compelling gift-wrap. If there's ever a fictional genre to armchair travel to it's to step a foot into a sci-fi multi-dimensional setup of interminable possibility, where anything could happen. Literally anything. This is where readers have seemingly become discouraged though; mainly from the lack of greater possibilities. A head nod to all who make fair, accurate and well-discussed points for critique since I fielded through similar central hiccups. Though, this is what I love: A Thousand Pieces of You doesn't attempt to be anything else other than what it is. It's YA, it's readable, it's intense, it's fresh, it's wonderfully scribed, it's poetic, it's mission-centred, it's interesting and I was happy to be a voyeur in between worlds. The worldbuilding is admittedly undercooked and doesn't quite follow suit with the intricacy of the science that likely created the elegant piece of tech that is the Firebird. The plot structure combined with the romantic Interference could have been better-balanced, the story wasn't as action/mystery-dense as I was hoping, the heroine is perhaps too feelings-driven without portraying a deeper sense of character and plot explanations can read as flimsy next to convincing. There's enough reference and definition that lays the groundwork for the changing setup, on the other hand. All of that being said, did I still enjoy it? Of course I did. A thousand pieces of it. (Note: this little quip may henceforth be reused and repurposed throughout this review).
To disclose too much about this trilogy opener would be to brandish spoilers like a careless chatter box (which I am not) so I'll be doing my utmost to keep the plot as sealed as possible *zip to mouth gesture*. Where I usually consider myself a three-steps-ahead kind of reader whose theories typically pan out to near-precision, Claudia Gray was three steps ahead of me, and she carries that sleight of hand unassumingly. While some plot pieces can be discovered with nimble guesswork, this book did dash my theories in a very surprising turn of events. And in surprising ways. There really is a bit of everything here: multiple worlds, multiple lives, a larger mystery, well-paced suspense, love in multiple forms (all of which transcends), familial values, romance, states of bereavement, destined interrelations, philosophy lite, science play, collusion and the complication of shifting experiences through the uncertain route forward. As complicated as that might seem in theory, the author keeps it very simple, digestible, comprehensible and shifts the threads of concoction quite smoothly. I understand why Gray chose to keep it as simple as she did. There isn't the greatest sense of discovery within each visited dimension. Even as I desired more descriptive worldbuilding to really feel the difference between dimensions in the same way I wanted more intricacy, I appreciated the differential details between universes no less, some more similar than others, but always clearly different. My favourite dimension would have to be a royal Russia, where a grand duchess Marguerite claims a resplendent heritage.
I did love the Initial pacing and structure of the story. It sets the action of the present plot against memories that speak to Marguerite's recall; which services the gaps in character profiling/relationships while also playing a subtle game of suggestion as we try to determine motives, incentives and, most importantly for me the 'do I trust Theo or do I trust Paul' chestnut since history suggests I seem to be a characteristic team picker. The author had other plans with that though. As Marguerite travels in the present, she travels through her memories, which question her pointed finger at a private Paul. The first dimension is an ultra advanced London, the second is a pre-modern primitive Russia where our heroine is of the highest standard of royalty, the third is basically a replica of her real life with minor differences and the final exemplifies the result of a climate emergency where she lives on an underwater vessel. I have to say there's a really charming thoroughline that captures the love that penetrates timeline, space, life and world. That it's especially the ties that bind that trace the story of every dimension, and your familiars within each one. I'm not just speaking to romance in its conventional perception, but the kind of romance we have with every loved one, that has us coming back to each other, time and time again. It's rendered quite beautifully, not just by way of the lengths Paul would go to for her, the ones Theo would go to for her, the ones both would go to for the Caine crew but the ones our heroine would go for her father and her family. The ones their duplicates would go to to help Marguerite on her way. As she's put in the extraordinary predicament of seeing a dead parent alive in another world, interacting with them and feeling such a depth of loss and love and appreciation for added time she'd never have had in ordinary life was touching. Marguerite gains a lot of familial perspective with her own family, through every other one she meets. As such, love becomes a dominant theme that eclipses all acreage, proportion and measurable dimension.
Claudia Gray's heroine? she wasn't quite the well-beloved protagonist, though I was no less interested to live through her lens. I didn't have many concerns larger than that, but I did have some. Marguerite's motivated by her impulses and can/does make questionable choices. Her age added to the equation but her reactions aren't all that inappropriate. I didn't always feel she played by the ethics of embodying her multiverse others however, even though commentary over ethical responsibility and bodily influence was given minor mention. With the violation of what happens to a central character especially (and the consequences he has to face in book 2) Marguerite often lacked that sense of consequential sensitivity. She had the awareness sans will to stick to her boundaries. Where the author aims to take that remains to be seen. Specifically when she rationalises a decision made (an emotionally motivated one) by stealing a choice that wasn't hers to make because she assumes it would have been consented to. She's perhaps too quick to be beheld by the blind faith on destined principle without considering nuance. Like most things in life, the truth is often more complicated than one belief unquestioned. I speak mostly to a certain staunch romantic perspective she later has without considering every other alternative of this person out there, in every other universe. They're not as interchangeable as she might desire to believe. Her impulses do really service her in being as driven and actionable as she is, which I can say for her. Then again, she's isn't the science-minded member of the cast. Of course, destined love is a romantic notion, and in this one it's an experimentally verifiable one too, enter the science as it binds with philosophy. Romanticist that I am, I appreciated the larger scope of destined connections, but again, Marguerite felt too quick to believe a certain someone is hers in every dimension of the innumerable ones in existence. In lieu of just the belief, I wanted real relationship development paired with it. Hopefully, book two develops in this regard too. For me, Marguerite's character construction could have been stronger; even as we're told about her personality type, her arc didn't seamlessly catalyse that. Since we're reading from the perspective of the artsy Caine family member, readers won't find themselves lost to the complex long-winded verbiage anticipated via plot themes. Marguerite offers a very readable perspective.
While Marguerite may be the anomaly in having a super special skill to carry her mindfully through her universal travels I just might be one of few reader anomalies in remaining impartial to the love language that is "the love triangle". Oops. Maybe one day I'll get there but for now I enjoy the indecisive melodrama. We have one here but Marguerite's heart is the concealer of nothing but transparency, so we know which love interest is her endgame so to speak. She has an affection for both Paul and Theo but there's adequate amounts of to and fro, all whipped up by a young heroine's confusion. Even though love itself is a ruling theme It also isn't exactly a very well-discovered romance. Paul, for example (her dimension's Paul) was absent for a strong portion of the story. Theo is her constant companion but all gets twisted up when we're exposed with the revelation. I am hoping book two turns a corner with romantic relationship charting. Fingers crossed that it provides, though I think the lack of an established relationship was deliberate on the author's part to keep the doubt alive. While somber, uber-intelligent and taciturn Paul was the villainised wrongdoer, I loved him from the start. His quiet, private disposition lends itself to clandestine motivation, known only unto him, but I had no desire to doubt him, not from the start, not in the end. There's a secret path to my heart. I have a gargantuan soft spot for withdrawn, socially un-acclimated heroes who just want to be loved, and I never doubt the quiet ones who shouldn't be doubted. Paul Markov, welcome to my heart. If actions speak louder than words then Paul Markov is the equivalent of someone who never needs to use them, though maybe sometimes it wouldn't provoke such havoc to be a little bit less MOM. I loved him to pieces, a thousand pieces of him. I want us to be socially inept and underdeveloped together. Theo was a character with some attitude. Though, for obvious reasons if you've read the book, the twist makes one wonder how much we know of his actual character at all, especially with the journey of guided suspicion we're taken on. He's the day to Paul's night and does his equal best to protect and aid Marguerite. Described as the hipster who Paul hero-worships, he's much more laid back, quick to charm with social grace and physicist-smart, of course. What sets the love triangle apart is the body swapping twist and the burgeoning suspicion that leaves characters in a state of doubt, even though you want to believe in all of them.
The story's quite condensed to the chase, the abstraction of the plot and marguerite's single minded version of events. In different ways, this works in favour of the narrative intrigue as much as it lacks orient and falls to the shadows in others. All of this in mind and I was pulled by a force I like to call YA romance, and Paul Markov. Love leaves the turf of Marguerite's home dimension but is never far from every universe travelled. We're shown what this group of characters would do for each in the name of love, faith and family, the risks they'd take to save each other and the lengths they'd go to ensure it. A multiverse family drama meets a multiverse romance meets a conspiracy that penetrates dimension in A Thousand Pieces of You. All of it blends and tangles in a temporal, universe-hopping, dimension-spanning, culture-shocking embarkment. There's also a seedy magnate who operates like an unethical goon. Even its title holds a certain romance, a poetically loaded meaning. The metaphysical is given intellectual form and scientific truths, principles and curiosities get their turn to play in a piece of hardware called the Firebird. Marguerite's faced with the fantasy and the flaw of this little prototypical contraption on her travels. A spoiler (non-spoiler): nobody dies a tragic death into a thousand pieces of themselves, though we never know what could happen with such a multi-applicable title. It's technically not at all a timelined time travel (time takes the same space and pace) but because of the culture changes it can and does feel like one. This was a pick from the scared, untouched-in-a-very-long-time vessel that we call my corporeal bookshelf. What was been keeping me from reading this? I'd like to claim innocence and say I don't know. If you follow my reading life, you'll know that there's a certain genre that keeps me busy. A multiverse-inspired fantasy trip that gives new meaning to the term 'long distance interrelationships'. And I can't conclude without just one more tribute to such brilliantly interpreted cover art so a special artistic mention for the art team that finalised such a vision!
Content Warning/Listing:
drinking, mentions drug taking. General warnings for violence. Sex scene (brief, non descriptive, very YA but you definitely know what's happening). Very minimal swearing. Death of a parent.