Today, Maiden Voyage sets sail—a swashbuckling tale of adventure and romance featuring a fisherman’s daughter and a courageous female sea captain.
The story, written by Jaimee Poipoi, Adam Reynolds, and Chaz Harris, with illustrations by Christine Luiten and Bo Moore, follows Reynolds and Harris’ Promised Land, about a prince and a farm boy who fall in love, giving us a glimpse into another part of the same world.
Fisherman’s daughter Ru lives with her father and helps him with his work. When he grows ill, he tells her that her mother is a princess, and so is she. He warns her to keep it a secret, though, as there are some who might wish to do her harm. He gives her a dagger with a royal crest and explains that he believes her mother to be alive, despite rumors to the contrary. Ru sets off to find her, guided by a map she discovers. She encounters Captain Freya, who offers her a place in her crew and agrees to help her on her journey. An evil queen and a band of pirates are determined to thwart them, but Ru and Freya are just as determined that they won’t. A budding romance between Ru and Freya is nicely handled—the authors show the two of them actually spending time getting to know each other, unlike so many love-at-first-sight fairy tales.
I have a few quibbles: At times, the story jumps rather abruptly between locations. We also never learn how Ru’s mother and father came to know each other—their earlier lives were such that it’s unclear how they would have met. That’s not the heart of the tale, but feels like a loose end. On a stylistic level, there are places where dialog might have served better than expository sentences. A few other sentences could simply use reworking. (“Cradling her father’s sea belt in her lap, the symbol of a crow caught her eye” is a classic example of a dangling modifier.) And one doesn’t “duel” a band of pirates—dueling by definition is between only two people. (Trust me on this one—I was a competitive fencer for many years.)
The authors manage, however, to create a tale with action aplenty and two likable protagonists with both strength and heart. Although there is romance, it is not the focus of the story as in so many other LGBTQ-inclusive fairy tales. That’s probably a good thing, as I’ve opined before—most young kids I know think anyone kissing anyone is icky, well into middle school. I think it’s admirable to show same-sex couples as a way of normalizing them, but it’s also good to have something other than the romance be the core of the plot. We are each more than just our relationship to another. (The same holds for different-sex romance in children’s books, too, as I see it.) Maiden Voyage manages to find that balance. The cast of characters is also decidedly multiracial, and there’s one prominent character with a physical disability who is in the thick of the action.
Maiden Voyage is also a great example of a book that is clearly queer-inclusive but not at all issue driven. The authors have, however, woven in the names of notable queer people, places, and allies: Freya’s cat is named Bowie; locations on the map include Castro Island, the Isle of Silvera, Mt. McKellan, and the Bechdel Sea. There’s nothing stopping a knowledgeable adult from using those names in the book as an excuse to explain something about queer culture and history to children—but that’s entirely optional. If they don’t, the story makes just as much sense.
The multiple plot threads and level of vocabulary aim this at the older end of the picture-book crowd. That’s good, too—there are fewer LGBTQ-inclusive books in the older picture book/early chapter book range than there are for very little kids, middle grades, and young adults. Despite a few flaws, then, Maiden Voyage should find many fans as a fun read full of adventure that also importantly centers queer lives.