As a Disney junkie and retellings fanatic, the “Twisted Tale” series has been on my radar for a while, but the terrible premises, poor reviews, and previous bad experience with Disney YA cautioned me to stay the hell away. I’ve already been burned by Serena Valentino’s villain stories, and had no desire to read more Disney publications that at worst slaughtered the source material and at best fell short of it.
But Part of Your World finally made me cave. Not because I thought it would be good. Oh, no, I had no expectations for this book to do anything other than make me utterly, utterly angry. I mean, all you have to do is look at the premise:
The story rests on the concept that Ariel didn’t stop Eric’s forced marriage to Vanessa. As a result, Ursula married Eric and then took Ariel prisoner only for Triton to exchange himself for his daughter’s freedom. Ariel, a free but voiceless mermaid, ends up in charge of Atlantica, while Ursula remains disguised as Vanessa, married to Eric on land.
So.
Ms. Braswell, or whomever laid out the plans for this book—you do realize that when Ursula became Vanessa and tried to marry Eric, it wasn’t because she wanted to become a queen, right? She was only doing it so Ariel would lose the bargain and become her prisoner, forcing Triton to give Ursula control of the underwater kingdom in order to save his daughter. Like, ruling the sea was her whole plan. The movie lays it out pretty clearly from her first scene—Ariel is meant to be the “key to Triton’s undoing”—and right before her wedding to Eric, Vanessa sings: “Things are working out according to my ultimate design… Soon I’ll have that little mermaid and the ocean will be mine!” The ocean, Ms. Braswell/Disney publishing. Not the land.
I know this, and I’m not even that fond of the 1989 Disney film; I’ve seen it only a few times, and it’s not even in my top ten Disney movies. But knowing your source material and acknowledging its basic plot beats and character motivations are probably something one should consider before writing an alternate universe story that hinges on the film’s original premise. Just a thought.
Clearly, I’m a masochist, because even after reading the frustrating synopsis, I still picked Part of Your World up (for free, on the eBook library—no way would I ever spend money on these things). Some part of me, deep down, thought it might be a passably entertaining hate read. And its status as an alternate universe story at least meant it wouldn’t stain the original’s plot and backstory. Instead, it’s just a weak, watery reimagining that clearly has no concept of the characters it’s dealing with or the logic of the universe it’s set in. Unfortunately, Part of Your World is actually not so bad that it’s good. It’s also not so bad that I want to set it on fire. It’s just passably bad. The premise is totally wrong, but that doesn’t mean Braswell couldn’t have gone somewhere interesting with it—but, really, it’s just dull throughout.
Mainly, this story just doesn’t work because it gets so much of the source material wrong. “But it’s an alternate universe,” you might say. But it’s still an alternate universe with these characters, the characters who have experienced practically all of the events we saw in the movie, and are now just set on a different path. They should still behave somewhat like the figures we saw in the 1989 movie. The film’s facts should still be respected. I can already see book defenders saying that Braswell never gets anything precisely wrong, which is true—it’s not like she says Ariel has five sisters instead of six or calls Triton’s kingdom “Mermaidia”—but everything is off in terms of how the characters act and situations play out. It’s not true to the movie’s characters or spirit.
I suppose I should stop making vague statements and instead just list some of the reasons why Part of Your World bugged me.
Stuff that went against everything in the movie's implications and tone, as well as basic logic:
Since Ariel is responsible for Triton’s imprisonment and (supposed) murder, she is told by her sisters that, “It’s only right that you take on his burdens”—therefore, ruling the underwater kingdom. Why on earth would anybody want the person who brought about the (supposed) death of their previous ruler to have control over the kingdom? I understand that they want her to atone for her sins, but I’m pretty sure there’s a way to do that that doesn’t put her in the most powerful position in the kingdom. Ariel just gave up her voice for legs and endangered her entire family: her track record for rational, informed decision-making is not strong at this point.
And because Ariel is in charge of the kingdom, she holds the trident—yes, the trident, the big powerful object that Ursula wanted so badly in the movie because it would give her control over everything. NO WAY would Ursula go off and live the human life while letting the mermaid she bested have the most powerful magic object in the sea.
I cannot stress this enough: Ariel has the most powerful magical object in the sea. Why did she never challenge Ursula? Why didn’t she try to free Eric? She says she can’t reach him because there are a few dozen human guards on the beach—so what? She could crush them with a tsunami. She could turn them into slugs! If her excuse is that she’s trying not to use her magic for harm, that doesn’t mean she had to hide away in Atlantica for five years. She could use her trident to make water splash the guards or cause a distraction that makes them look the other way so she can run past them. I can’t accept that this story gives Ariel this super-powerful object and then never, even during the final battle, has her become eighty feet tall (like Ursula, badass that she is, did in the original film) and stomp on her enemy like an ant.
Also, having Ariel totally abandon the human world implies that she doesn’t really care that much about Eric. I know people have spent the last thirty years bashing on how she sacrificed everything for a guy she barely knew but, regardless of whether or not one approves of that decision, I think we can conclude that she was pretty passionate in her desire to be with him. But leaving the man as a brainwashed zombie married to Ursula...that’s pretty cold. The novel makes some weak excuses about how she’s prevented from reaching him (but again—see my point above about having the most powerful object in the sea), yet at no point does she really express remorse or pain at what happened to him. I suppose having the pain of her father’s presumed death would overshadow any romantic sentiments, but still—she treats losing him like a minor inconvenience. And just abandoning him to live the rest of his life as Ursula’s puppet doesn’t speak volumes for how much she values his well-being: it’s like she only cares about Eric in relation to herself, and not as a person in his own right who deserves to have his own agency.
Ariel’s sisters are treated horribly. They’re barely in the film so we never get a clear reading on whether or not they’re total bimbos, but they are here. Which is fine—a bit cheap, but fine—but you can’t convince me that they’re so shallow that they won’t react or do anything when it’s revealed that their father is alive and held in captivity. Surely these girls loved their father. Surely they have something invested in this. But when Ariel brings it up, they’re just like, “Huh, okay, go bring him back, then, good luck.” SERIOUSLY? No offers of help? No expressions of concern or longing?
Speaking of family, in this novel Eric has living parents. No way. Maybe it’s never explicitly said in the movie, but it’s pretty clear that his parents are dead—otherwise, why aren’t they around, or even, like, mentioned in passing? (The musical—rightly—specifies that they have both passed away.) And since his parents don’t even make an appearance in this book, what was the point of including them? Maybe Braswell was trying to counteract the dead Disney parents trope, but it just goes against the emotional truth of everything we see in the film.
And, in another repulsive example of how this book treats Eric even worse than the original movie: he says to Max, “Come on, let’s head back before the missus decides we’ve been out on our walkies too long.” EW. That is just—so gross. This is a sentence I never needed to hear Eric say. Max is a dog who doesn’t deserve to be spoken to in baby talk, and Eric doesn’t have the kind of relationship with Max where he’d speak to him with baby talk. It’s always, “Come on, boy!” with him. See, even I know how the characters speak.
Actual, honest-to-Disney factual errors/plot mistakes:
At one point in the novel, Ariel says, “It’s been over one hundred years since Mother died.” Um...how? In the film, Ariel is sixteen. This story takes place five years later, so she’s twenty-one. We know mermaid years are measured at the same rate as human years because Ariel explicitly says that half a decade—five years—have passed since Ursula took over. Do mermaid eggs hang out for seventy-nine years before the child hatches? How could Ariel’s mother be dead for over one hundred years when Ariel’s barely an adult? How can you WRITE that sentence and not realize how messed up that timeline is? Like, just THINK for a moment.
Ariel also states that when she saved Eric “I think most of the crew died.” This is true in most versions of the story—but the Disney film (naturally, being Disney) makes it pretty clear that everyone makes it off of the ship before it explodes. It shows everybody in the lifeboat and when Eric realizes Max is still on the ship, it’s clear from the look on his face that they thought everybody had gotten to safety.
Stuff that's just the mark of lazy and disappointing writing:
The Ariel and Eric reunion conversation is some terrible, terrible stuff. No passion, no talking like any adult humans ever would… Granted, with all they’ve been through in the past five years, it makes sense that they wouldn’t have their youthful connection in the film, but there is just no chemistry whatsoever. Maybe the movie did us a favor by having them exchange so little dialogue: they have nothing of value to say to one another. They are a boring and awkward couple here.
Eric realizes he’s been brainwashed for five years and doesn’t freak out. I call BS.
He also tattoos his girlfriend's name on his arm. Which, in addition to being a tacky, tacky cliche, is also horribly inappropriate given how their relationship has consisted of five meetings, none of which really gave them time to properly know each other.
A character says, “Oh my cod.” Oh my COD. Just, no.
The real poor unfortunate soul:
If there’s anything this novel really does a disservice to, it’s Ursula. Wonderful, wonderful Ursula deserved so much better than this downright crappy character treatment. Braswell took the film’s iconic sassy, confident schemer and turned her into a shrill, shallow harpy. Half of the story’s plot points exist because Vanessa/Ursula makes a bunch of idiotic decisions that Ursula never would have stood for or is manipulated in a way that Ursula would have seen right through. Mostly, though, it just fails because its very premise ignores the core facts about Ursula: she cares about power, yet here she relinquishes all of the power she ever had. It’s not like she took her original magic with her to human life: the story directly explains that sea magic doesn’t work on land and visa versa. So, again, why would she ever want to stay on land? No matter how (poorly) Braswell tries to sell it, I will never believe that the boring non-magical abuse of power she exercises as Vanessa would draw her away from all of the havoc she could wreak as the sea witch. Ursula did more damage in her two minutes as ruler of the sea in the movie than she did in this book’s entire page count. Also, her death is so disappointing and half-assed.
In conclusion:
Part of Your World is bad. No matter how I look at it, it’s a poor, underdeveloped, unimpressive take on a source material that (admittedly) has plenty of room for improvement, but improve it it did not. Still, I have to begrudgingly admit that it was slightly better than I expected. It is not as gloriously sloppy as the Kingdom Keepers nor as downright vile as Serena Valentino’s post-Fairest of All works. There are enough borderline decent ideas sprinkled in among the gross mistreatment of the source material that it kept me from loathing every moment of it. For instance, I was okay with the idea of Ariel stepping into a position of responsibility and being a more burdened adult: considering how my biggest beef with the 1989 film is that she doesn’t learn anything or own up to her choices, this hack AU novel provides us with a more satisfying character than the movie. So this book could have gone somewhere good—as it is, it’s just bland and disappointing. At any rate, I’m just relieved this series is published fan-fiction rather than other Disney YA that is supposedly canon (shudder).
So congratulations, Part of Your World: I did not spend this entire novel wanting to throw up or toss you in a bonfire. You were not incompetent enough to leave me with a bad taste in my mouth or disturbing enough that I won’t be able to forget you for years to come. It might not sound like much, book, but by just being messy and unbelievable rather than downright awful, you surpassed my wildest expectations.
1.5 stars.