Growing up with Percy Jackson

I have been intending on writing this post for quite a while now, but it’s never quite felt like the right time. 

It’s now the last time I will get the opportunity. Tomorrow (I am writing this portion on Monday the 5th of October) I will hopefully receive my copy of ‘The Trials of Apollo: The Tower of Nero’ through my letterbox and will begin my descent down from the heavens that is the Percy Jackson Saga. I am not expecting much from Percy himself, this isn’t his story but, nevertheless, I am hoping for some sort of a goodbye from him. 

I have been reading Rick Riordan’s mythic tales since I was about twelve or thirteen, loving them from the first piece of Viria’s artwork I saw, stolen, posted onto Facebook fandom pages. I came to the series from a rather unique point-of-view; I was aware of the biggest, literal, cliff-hanger from the get-go (also, if it wasn’t already obvious, spoiler alert for just about everything). I read the Percy Jackson and the Olympian’s series quickly, opting to simply download them onto my iPad rather than buy physical copies (an act, although I understand, I deeply regret) and sped through them. I adored the rapid, chatty style of Percy’s first-person point-of-view. ‘Battle of the Labyrinth’ easily became my favourite, as this was the first time the series was dealing with a piece of Greek mythology I was familiar with. Plus, I was just as enraptured as Percy was when Annabeth kissed him on the cheek. 

By the time I reached the Heroes of Olympus series, I was neck deep into BookTube and understood the importance of owning physical copies. It was Jason’s point-of-view in 'The Lost Hero' that I first got to hold in my hand. ‘Son of Neptune’ was painful and wonderful to read. The reunion of 'Percabeth' in ‘Mark of Athena’ sent my heart soaring. It was with Leo Valdez that I first truly found solace – I knew his fear of being the ‘seventh wheel’ all too well at the age of thirteen. All in all, I was quickly up-to-speed with the rest of the fandom, and eagerly awaited the fourth book in the series, ‘House of Hades’. It was in this waiting period that I tried my hand at writing fanfiction for the first time – an endeavour I would not return to for years – and most of my ‘reblogs’ on tumblr.com were of various fanarts of my beloved characters, and hopes and fears of what they might come to face in the final two books. 

I will never be able to give you an objective analysis of ‘House of Hades’, it will never be separated from the feelings I had whilst waiting for it. I was too young to have grown up with Harry Potter, the books were practically dusty by the time I finally picked them up, and I had never been properly invested in the release of anything before, book or film alike. I remember when the American cover-art was released: Percy and Annabeth, dirty and tired, lumbering through Tartarus. Percy’s head was turned towards the reader and rumours began to fly that perhaps 'House of Hades' would mimic the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, and that whoever he was looking back at was doomed. 

But then a piece of information leaked that made every other theory irrelevant. The image of the google search that confirmed it is burned into my brain. 

Nico di Angelo had a crush on Percy. 

Looking back, I can see all the ways that the scene between Nico, Jason, and Eros, can be seen as problematic. Sure, it would have been wonderful for Nico to reveal that piece of deeply personal information about himself at a time of his own choosing. But, at thirteen years old and suddenly coming to terms with my own sexuality, Nico’s coming out was a bolt of lightning. I’ll admit, I hadn’t really cared for him in the previous books. Like the rest of the seven, I regarded him as the creepy son-of-Hades who was best not bothered, for who knows how he might react. From that point on though, Nico became my favourite character, and I understood everything he felt with a clarity I had never known before. His feelings echoed my own, and I savoured every mention he got. I was beyond ecstatic when I heard that we’d be hearing from his perspective in the final book, ‘Blood of Olympus’. 

I will also never be able to give you an objective analysis of this book, either, because it will never be separated from the weight of disappointment I felt when it dawned on me, eyes blurred as I flicked through the pages, just reading the chapter titles, that we wouldn’t hear from Percy again. Because no matter how happy I was to hear from Nico and Reyna, Percy was who I needed to say goodbye to. 

I don’t want this review to become weighed down with all my negative feelings about the final book in the Heroes of Olympus series, but I do think it is important to note. In a time in which it seems creators can only be good or bad, I find it imperative to stress that sometimes things fall in the middle. Not every single book is world changing, not every single decision Riordan makes in his writing is perfect. For me, the good of this series far outweighs the bad. But the bad is there, and there are valid critiques I don't wish to invalidate. 

For the most part, though, as I, a 20-year-old English Literature student, anxiously await the final book in a series written for 12-year-olds, I am hoping for a happy conclusion. This saga is one of my longest-lasting loves, and I am glad I got to see this journey through to the end. 

Review: 

Spoiler alert. 

I think, what I love most about these books, is the fact that they’re written for children. It would be very easy for me to sit here and write about how I rolled my eyes constantly as I journeyed with Apollo, about how the writing made my skin crawl with cringe. But I won’t, because this book is not really for me. These books, naturally, have been helplessly compared the Harry Potter series, and in some ways that comparison is valid. I can very easily understand the criticism that JK Rowling’s writing is supposed to be something to grow up with, and that Rick Riordan’s writing isn’t.

But I don’t care. These books are so readable, but also so determined to get young teenagers to think about the world they live in and to embrace it with an open heart, that I can get past everything I don’t like about the writing style. The Tower of Nero insists upon its reader to think of others, and act, not just by doing what’s best for you, but what’s best for the world. It is a book where so many of the main characters are part of the LGBTQ+ community, and not only are they are a part of it, but they show that, like Nico, you can overcome any hurt you may feel about yourself, or, like Piper (yes, Piper!), you don’t have to be what everyone expects you to be. Also, these books are so undeniably clear about every single issue it confronts, and Riordan does not shy away from labels. 

This book is shorter than I expected, but I’m glad the plot didn’t run away from itself. It was thoughtful where it needed to be, funny (for twelve-year olds) where it could be, and fun throughout. Apollo's addresses to the reader are not only extremely interactive but also inquisitive, constantly asking you to challenge any assumptions or first impressions you may have. 

In my mind, it has redeemed itself from 'Blood of Olympus'. I used to worry about recommending the world of Percy Jackson, because I knew the ending wasn’t that great. This time, the finale isn’t trying to be particularly spectacular – it hasn’t tried to pull an Avengers: Endgame. It is classic Percy Jackson, and I couldn’t ask for anything more. I will no longer hesitate to recommend this series, and I no longer have to look back and wish for a different ending. It’s actually remarkable to realise that the sadness I usually feel when writing about Percy Jackson has lifted. I say this with utmost positivity, so please don’t take this in any way as insulting, but I probably won’t re-read the books again. In the best way, I can go forward with my life knowing that these books exist almost exactly as I want them to. 

Some favourite moments, in no particular order: 

• The return of the Blue Plastic Hairbrush! 
• Will glowing! Nico and Will, together and happy, in general. 
• Apollo’s flagrant bisexuality
• All the goodbyes. 
• The fact that Sally is definitely writing Percy’s story. 

No, I need to say more about the goodbyes. 

It was at this point that I truly saw the line blurring between Narrator Apollo and Author Rick. I couldn’t help but feel that these last moments were self-indulgent; a chance to write all his characters one last time. There’s even a throwback to Percy’s first adventure; a road-trip with Annabeth and Grover. I could also tell how Rick realised how desperately we all needed those last moments to say goodbye to everyone, and the idea that they all have equal importance was beautiful. 

I thought the moment at the campfire with Nico, Will and Rachel was particularly lovely. Although I was sad not to hear the prophecy, it makes total sense. It’s nice to know that everyone’s still having adventures, even if I won’t be there to read them. Even if that adventure does concern one of the saddest endings of the entire saga (I still well up when I think about "Bob says 'hello'"). 

To me, that ending felt like Rick was passing on the story to us now.  It is such a humongous world, with so much possibility for young readers to tell their own story. Whether that’s Percy and Annabeth’s domestic bliss at New Rome; Reyna and Thalia’s huntress adventures, Leo and Calypso’s turbulent time apart; Frank and Hazel’s praetorship; Piper's trial of normal life; or Will and Nico’s prophecy. I love when authors embrace their fandoms. The world of Percy Jackson has always strived to be inclusive, and now it’s up to the rest of us to carry on that legacy. 

Whatever I chose, whatever the readers of Percy Jackson choose, I know the decisions will be wiser because Percy, the Seven (plus Nico and Reyna), and Apollo, were there to guide us on our way. 

(I can only begin to hope that the new cartoon will capture even a fraction of the magic and importance of these books.)