The Riordan Voice
The Riordan Voice
Rick
Riordan is an American writer, best known for creating the bestselling series, Percy
Jackson and the Olympians. Riordan was a middle school teacher before
turning to writing, and his works span various mythologies, making them
accessible and interesting to young readers.
Rick
Riordan writes through narrators with very different personalities,
backgrounds, and voices, yet his books still have something that makes them
unmistakably Riordan. This voice is obvious because of the recurring patterns
of humour, conversational narration, and contemporary language. These features
keep showing up even when Riordan changes his narrator, his setting, and even
the mythology behind the story.
First,
let’s look at the different series and narrators he uses, before diving into
the similarities between the series. The first one we will look at is Percy
Jackson and the Olympians, narrated in first person by the protagonist,
Percy. The Heroes of Olympus is narrated in multiple third person
limited perspectives, from the point of view of the main characters. The Trials
of Apollo is narrated in first person by Apollo. The Kane Chronicles
is narrated in first person jointly by the protagonists, Sadie and Carter Kane.
Finally, Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard are narrated in first
person by Magnus.
One thing
that immediately stands out is how often Riordan uses first-person narration.
This lets readers get closer to the protagonist and experience the story as the
main character does. It helps them empathize with and understand the character
better than if it were told in third person.
Let’s
first look at humour patterns across the series. Humour is probably one of the
first things readers notice about Riordan’s writing, especially in the way his
narrators react to serious situations. The mythological world never seems far
away because Riordan filters it through contemporary references, sarcasm,
irony, and the everyday reactions of his teenage protagonists. This creates a
contrast between the circumstances and the familiar language with which they
are described.
In Percy
Jackson and the Olympians: The Titan’s Curse, Percy says “Hercules? Man,
that guy was like the Starbucks of ancient Greece.” This is a classic example
of Percy’s witty humour. Comparing Hercules to Starbucks immediately brings an
ancient mythological figure into a world that feels much more familiar to a
modern reader. Even when he is faced with a monster that might kill him, he
still has time for a witty reply. His humour becomes a part of the way he – and
the reader – experience the dangers of the mythical world.
There is
another example where he has to rely on a poodle for directions. His friend,
Annabeth, tells him to say hi to the poodle. Percy refuses. The poodle growls,
and Percy says hi to the poodle. The joke works because Percy’s world is full
of monsters and gods, yet he is suddenly worried about something as ordinary as
saying hello to a poodle. Percy is accustomed to monsters, gods, and
supernatural threats, yet his exaggerated reluctance to greet a poodle is
treated with the seriousness of an ordinary social interaction. Riordan does
this repeatedly: he takes something extraordinary and lets his characters react
to it in a completely ordinary, contemporary way.
“Percy,
meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Percy."
I
stared at Annabeth, figuring she'd crack up at this practical joke they were
playing on me, but she looked deadly serious.
"I'm
not saying hello to a pink poodle," I said. "Forget it."
"Percy,"
Annabeth said. "I said hello to the poodle. You say hello to the
poodle." The poodle growled.
"I
said hello to the poodle.”
This
pattern continues into Heroes of Olympus, where Percy and Leo have an
exchange about zodiac signs. The following exchange shows that the same humour
has been carried into Heroes of Olympus as part of Leo’s character.
“Like
your zodiac sign?” Percy asked. “I’m a Leo.”
“No,
stupid,” Leo said. “I’m a Leo. You’re a Percy.”
The joke
is simple wordplay, but it also shows how naturally Riordan builds humour into
ordinary conversations between his characters. The joke fits Leo’s personality,
but the quick wordplay and casual exchange are also typical of Riordan’s humour
more generally.
In The Trials
of Apollo, the protagonist is a god who is now trapped in human form.
Apollo is characterised by self-deprecating humour. He often mentions that he
whimpers and wants to flee, though he externally portrays himself as an all-powerful,
brave former god. The fun comes from watching Apollo think of himself as an
all-powerful god while behaving like a very frightened human being. It is the
same kind of contrast that appears throughout Riordan’s earlier books. The
humour again arises from the contrast between the extraordinary and the
ordinary.
The
Kane Chronicles
also uses the same kind of humour. One of the main characters says “No, no, no.
Somebody get a can opener. I’ve got a god stuck in my head.” The statement
treats the supernatural presence of a god as though it were an everyday
occurrence. Again, Riordan takes something as grand as a god and describes it
using the language of an everyday problem.
The same
technique can be seen in Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard, when
Magnus says “That awkward moment when you jump out a window because your friend
jumped out a window, then you remember that your other friend can fly.” The
phrase “that awkward moment” is recognisably contemporary and conversational,
and its application to a potentially life-threatening situation creates the
humour. Like Percy, Magnus interprets an extraordinary event through the
language of an ordinary, contemporary experience.
So, the
similarity between these narrators isn't really in their personalities. Percy,
Leo, Apollo, the Kane siblings, and Magnus are distinct characters, but Riordan
consistently allows his narrators to respond to extraordinary situations
through contemporary and conversational humour. It is this recurring approach
to humour that starts to make the “Riordan voice” noticeable.
The second
feature that keeps appearing is Riordan’s conversational way of telling a
story. His narrators don't simply tell us what happened. They make us feel as
though we are part of the conversation. They address us directly, interrupt
themselves, imagine what we might be thinking, and make informal comments along
the way. It often feels less like someone is writing a story for us and more
like someone is telling us one.
With Percy
Jackson, the beginning of his series directly addresses the reader and
establishes the relationship between narrator and reader. The narrator says “Am
I a troubled kid, yeah you could say that… If you’re reading this because you
think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now.” What makes
this interesting is that Percy isn't simply telling us what happened. He knows
we are listening. For a moment, it feels as though Percy is a real person
sitting on the other side of the book, telling us his story.
In the Trials
of Apollo a similar technique appears where Apollo pauses the story and
addresses the reader. He stops the story to make a statement to the audience.
He doesn’t just think it, like Percy, but says it. It is as though Riordan’s
characters are conscious that the reader is listening and anticipate the
reader’s responses, so the character is going to respond to them. Apollo says “I’d
need a miracle. And as a god, I can tell you that those are never distributed
lightly.” It is almost as though Riordan’s characters know that someone is
listening. They imagine what the reader might think and then respond to it.
In the Kane
Chronicles, there are two narrators who talk to each other outside of the
narrative. These are presented in parentheses and it creates the impression
that the narrators being real people, not just characters in a story. The
interruptions make it feel as though the readers are listening to the siblings
tell the story together. One example from Sadie Kane is “Carter says I should
tell you why it's called that. It's a cave full of all sorts of birds. Again – duh.
[Carter, why are you banging your head against the table?]” What makes this
interesting is that the siblings are doing two things at once: they are telling
the story to an audience while also talking to each other. This makes the
storytelling feel less like a formal account and more like an ongoing
conversation.
In Magnus
Chase, Riordan takes this technique further by allowing Magnus to
anticipate the reader’s response and answer it himself. This is evident when he
says, “Gee, Magnus, you might be thinking, that’s really harsh of you. He’s
your uncle. Just because your mom hated him, he ignored you most of your life,
and then he got you killed, you don’t trust him? Yeah, I know. I was being
unreasonable.” Magnus imagines what the reader might say to him and answers
before we even get the chance to ask. For a moment, the reader becomes part of
the conversation.
Here, we
are excluding the Heroes of Olympus because it is written in the
third-person limited point of view as opposed to the first person perspective
of the other series. This lets us focus on Riordan’s use of conversational
narration through first-person narrators.
Although
these techniques differ across the series, they produce a similar effect. Percy
directly addresses the reader, Apollo speaks to an imagined audience, Carter
and Sadie interrupt one another and talk to the audience, and Magnus
anticipates the reader’s response. In each case, the narrator seems aware that
someone is on the other side of the story, listening. This recurring
relationship between narrator and reader is another part of what makes the
“Riordan voice” recognisable across his different series.
Before we
conclude, it is important to understand why Riordan writes the way he does. His
first inspiration was his son. The original Percy Jackson concept was a
bedtime story he told his son. Percy has ADHD and dyslexia, just like Riordan’s
son. Riordan spend 15 years as a middle school English and history teacher.
This gave him an inside perspective into how real kids talk, think, and process
humour. This is what helps him craft the humour his characters are known for.
In
conclusion, this comparison across Riordan’s series suggests that a
recognisable “Riordan voice” does persist despite the differences between his
narrators and mythological worlds. Percy, Apollo, Magnus, Carter and Sadie have
distinct personalities and voices, but Riordan repeatedly uses contemporary
humour and conversational narration to shape how they experience and
communicate their worlds. The “Riordan voice,” therefore, does not come from
making his characters sound identical. Rather, it emerges through recurring authorial
choices that remain recognisable even when the narrator, perspective, and
mythology change.
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