CLOSE your eyes and think of the two biggest publishing phenomena of the recent past. The odds are high you’ll come up with Harry Potter and The Da Vinci Code. So it’s a no-brainer that sooner or later, someone would combine their USPs and come up with… Chasing Vermeer.
With two 11-year-olds as protagonists, a medieval mystery at the centre and lots of red herrings littered along the way, debut novelist Blue Balliett and illustrator Brett Helquist create a cross between a crime novel and an interactive board game. Aimed at tweens — ‘‘not a girl, not yet a woman’’ — this is a book that is supposed to make young readers think about art, intuition, education and answers to the small and big puzzles of life. All very, umm, well-intentioned but, ultimately, not very satisfying.
At the core of the story are the brainy oddballs, sixth graders-turned-sleuths Petra and Calder. Classmates and neighbours, they are not friends till a series of accidents and coincidences embroil them in the biggest art mystery of recent times: the disappearance of a Vermeer painting called ‘The Lady Writing’. Their characters, and their burgeoning friendship, are the most ‘felt’ parts of book.
For the rest, Balliett seems to concentrate more on involving and intriguing the reader than exploiting the plethora of opportunities for characterisation, plot development and an appropriate denouement. Ms Hussey, the sixth-grade teacher, for instance, could have been a character at par with Dumbledore, and the University School could have captured the imagination the way Hogwarts did, but for the author’s apparent rush to get somewhere.
University School could have captured the imagination the way Harry Potter’s Hogwarts did, but for the author’s rush to get somewhere. Where, it isn’t exactly clear |
Where, it isn’t exactly clear. At three points in the book, the reader has to crack the coded letters written by Calder’s best friend Tommy. The exercise is exciting the first time around but it takes away from the main narrative and, as the effort results in yet another red herring, seems to subtract more than it adds.
The same holds true of the actual solving of the crime: Call me old-fashioned if you will, but I prefer my cases solved through deduction and logic, rather than unexplained feelings, intuitive ideas and paranormal guidance.
Even the finale is a casualty of this slightly breathless style. The art thief is ultimately unmasked but, because he is such a peripheral character through the book, the reader’s state is similar to the Bollywood addict who watches the hero walk away with the item girl.
Having said that, Chasing Vermeer is not without interest. Balliett is good at atmosphere, managing to create a spooky St Mary Mead out of a busy Chicago neighbourhood, thanks largely to the detailed illustrations (which, by the way, hold the answer to a separate puzzle by themselves). She writes intelligently and throws up thought-provoking questions: ‘‘Why was yellow cheerful, and why was it always a surprise?’’ ‘‘Why were some words… more graceful, more elegant than others? Why were some words peanut butter and jelly sounds, and others caviar?’’
One wishes these were the only unanswered questions in the book.