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Writer's pictureFrankie DeGiorgio

The Failure of Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World

I like to believe that all stories can have a compelling sequel, but Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World, Benjamin Alire Sáenz's follow-up to his incredibly popular and beloved Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the World, is not one such compelling sequel. I will admit, I was hesitant about this sequel since its announcement. Secrets of the World was not a book that I thought needed a follow up, but I went into Waters of the World with an open mind, hoping that Sáenz's prose and characterization would prove me wrong. I was sorely disappointed.


Waters cracks under the pressure of its extremely high expectations. There are echoes of what made Secrets so special, but these echoes are nowhere near enough to sustain the book. The characters are flat versions of their former selves, the writing style feels like that of a ghostwriter only slightly familiar with Sáenz's previous work, and the pacing is an egregious crime. But worst of all, the novel fails to understand what made its previous installment so successful: Ari and Dante themselves.


Aristotle and Dante are easily the strongest parts of the original novel; their unique personalities and their love story are at the center of Secrets. The first half of Waters is the strongest part of the sequel because it returns to their interactions and relationship, building on where the last book left off. Although the development of Ari felt a little fast, the first half is still carried by the couple’s navigation of new questions about their relationship and place in the world. If the entire book were this, I would not be so disappointed. But after the first half, the novel quickly overwhelms itself with new characters and new situations, leaving Dante in the dust and refusing to fall back on the emotional core of the previous novel. The novel flirts with developing the relationship between the two characters by introducing conflicts, but this conflict is always shallow and irrelevant (with one notable exception at the end that we will get to), never giving the characters any genuine opportunity to grow in themselves and their relationship.


The unsuccessful new characters and the storyline are symptoms of the novel’s bigger problem with pacing. Everything happens much too quickly and suddenly, with no single thread to hold all of the vignettes together. Secrets was written in a somewhat vignette style as well, but in that instance the backbone that held the vignettes together was Ari and Dante falling in love. There are two events in Waters that had the potential to be its backbone, but because of the pacing, the characters never get the chance to develop through these events. (A final warning about major spoilers, we're about to get into them.) First, in the last quarter of the book, Ari's dad passes away very suddenly and very tragically. The timing of this death felt incredibly off; it was so close to the end that we do not get to see Ari or his mom reflect and move on from the death, feeling more like a cheap twist than an emotional growth moment. I think if this death was the inciting incident of the book, giving Ari the rest of the novel to grow and change as a result of it, it would be much more effective.


The same could be said for Ari and Dante's "breakup"— the second event. As mentioned before, throughout the novel there are various small incidents between the two boys, mostly insignificant and ineffective attempts at conflict that are resolved quickly. This "breakup" happens––even more egregious than the death of Ari's father––in the last 50 pages of the book. It came out of nowhere and was such a shock that I had to resist the urge to genuinely scoff out loud. Again, there is no growth from this moment, there can't be, with only 50 pages left. It is resolved almost immediately because Sáenz clearly didn't want to end the series with Ari and Dante separated, leaving the reader to wonder why the breakup happened in the first place. As with so many other moments in this book, I had to think to myself: What was the point?


I've digressed from the new characters and storyline that I mentioned above, but for good reason. In fact, it is because of the unnecessary introduction of these characters and storyline that these two huge moments were confined to the last few parts of the novel and not given room to breathe. That room was instead allocated to the overwhelmingly large additions to the cast: three new notable classmates and friends to Ari, at least four significant new teachers, and an even larger cast of minor classmate characters that almost all end up being irrelevant; all of which are enveloped in Ari's "senior year of high school" storyline that takes up the second half of the book. This is where the split from Dante is so apparent, as he is replaced with numerous side characters who aren't given enough care and attention to form their own personalities. Ari's new friends all become echoes of each other, with the same voices and same roles. I am not against introducing new characters in sequels, I think many sequels necessitate it, but frankly all of these new characters could have been condensed into one–– preferably Cassandra because she was the most complicated and nuanced of them all. Nearly half of the scenes at school could have been cut and the same message could have been delivered.. It seems like the main reason for these school scenes was to separate Ari from Dante but nothing comes of this, either. Other than lamenting occasionally about how much they miss each other, they never grow from being apart. It doesn't change anything about them or their relationship. Ari does have some character development during the time that we see at school, but again this could have been communicated as effectively, if not more so, with half of the existing school scenes. And this character development, by the way, does not end up meaning anything for Ari and Dante's relationship. There is nothing wrong with focusing on one character in a relationship––the book is in Ari's perspective, after all, so by definition it will center on him––but not developing Dante at all in a book supposedly about Ari and Dante makes him feel more like a prop than his own character.


I would be remiss if I didn't bring up the writing style at the end here. Ari and Dante's relationship might have been what enticed readers to Secrets, but Sáenz's writing style was what kept them hooked. And I am no exception. I had faith that Waters, even if the storyline wasn't that good, would carry itself with this same writing style. But, like with every other aspect of the book, I was again disappointed. The writing of this novel truly feels like that of a ghostwriter, and one only mildly familiar with Sáenz's work, at that. Where there were elegant and mature metaphors in Secrets, there were cheesy and bizarre comparisons in Waters. The dialogue and Ari's inner monologue was so childish if felt like the characters were in middle school, making it weirdly uncomfortable when they started talking about sex. It felt like an infantilization not just of the characters, but of the reader, like Sáenz didn't believe we could handle the mature tone and themes of the previous book. It frustrated me to no end, and I truly think if I wasn't planning to write this review, the writing style would have made me put the book down within the first 100 pages.


Reading the goodreads reviews, it appears that there are a lot of people who connected with this novel, and I'm glad they were able to. Hopefully that means you might pick it up as well and find something you connect with, despite everything I've said. But for me, coming off of the life-changing experience of reading Secrets, this sequel is an utter and complete disappointment that disregards everything that made the first book special.


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