The title for Libba Bray’s newest book, The Sweet Far Thing, comes from a verse in William Butler Yeats’ 1893 poem, "The Rose of Battle." I mention this to underscore that, unlike a lot of the Young Adult schlock that’s on the market, Bray’s work has a solid foundation in the literary canon, which her inspired writing is sure to advance today.

"The Sweet Far Thing" is the third novel of the Gemma Doyle trilogy, which also includes "A Great and Terrible Beauty" and "Rebel Angels". Set in Victorian England, the first two books of this teen-fiction series have sold over 600,000 copies. Released in December 2007, "The Sweet Far Thing" will appeal to young readers every bit as much as its predecessors. For one thing, none of Queen Victoria’s compulsory corsets can bind back these Spence Academy girls as they do nocturnal battle with enemy spirits and phantoms in a netherworld beyond the caves outside their dorms. For another, Bray plies the repressive Victorian climate as a foil to the very issues of drug addiction, incest, suicide, labor abuse, and homosexuality that the epoch sought to disguise or otherwise suppress.

At the beginning of the series, just before 16-year-old Gemma Doyle leaves Bombay to attend Spence Academy in London, her mother-a British aristocrat like her father-commits suicide. Her father is a laudanum addict whom she has had to drag out of opium dens. Spence’s headmistress, Mrs. Nightwing, and her mignons among the pantalooned student body mercilessly exclude ungainly Gemma. But, like outcasts in so many stories, Gemma comes to discover through a series of visions that she has secret powers that link her to the Order, an ancient group that negotiates between the mortal world and spirit realms. Although Kartik, a member of a cult called the Rakshana, warns her to cease her association with the Order, Gemma presses on and includes three schoolmates-Felicity, Pippa, and Ann-in her descent into the realms. The trilogy explores the girls’ paranormal odysseys as they seek to not only survive the trials of adolescence at Spence, but the onslaughts of phantoms and creatures hungry for the power that Gemma possesses.

"The Sweet Far Thing" marks the conclusion of these sagas as Gemma prepares to leave behind Spence, the realms and her bosom chums as she ventures into an independent womanhood, almost unprecedented in her times. Samuel Johnson said of Milton’s "Paradise Lost", "None ever wished it longer than it was." At 819 pages, one could say the same about "The Sweet Far Thing", but considering how many plot lines Bray has had to tie up from the other two novels, where danger not only lurked but struck at every corner, we can only expect the book’s heft. Since one of my New Year’s resolutions has been to stop handing out so many plot-spoilers, I will refrain from detailing the fates of Gemma, Ann, Felicity, Kartik and Pippa in Bray’s gothic universe. Suffice it to say, not everyone gets out alive and the love stories are far from predictable. Gemma may have sentenced Circe, the sorceress of the Order, to eternal imprisonment in the realms but henchmen abound to carry out her schemes. The Gorgon still hisses riddles that could just as easily lead Gemma to her demise as to her salvation. The three Centaurs continue to spell doom and Pippa, who chose to die in the mortal world in order to remain in the realms, has assembled her own afterlife gang of "Girls who Died in the Factory Fire." Those charred and scarred girls help Gemma along her journey and serve as a constant reminder of the labor abuses of the Victorian era (and today).

Yet again, with The Sweet Far Thing, young readers will find that Libba Bray challenges their intellects and imaginations while giving unshrinking voice to contemporary and historical controversies.One reviewer from "The Kirkus" accuses the book of not being "queer-friendly" based on the fact that Felicity takes a reactionary stance on the trial of Oscar Wilde. Did the reviewer miss that Felicity’s affair with Pippa is about to be blown open? Did she miss that, when Felicity decries Wilde, the gay conman Dr. Van Ripple presciently whispers in her ear, "Judge not, lest ye be judged, my dear"? The reviewer also takes issue with how, when evidence of Felicity’s affair with Pippa comes to light, Gemma stands in shock:

"Something I cannot name passes between them, and then Pip’s lips are on Fee’s in a deep kiss, as if they feed on one another, their fingers entwined in each other’s hair. And suddenly, I understand what I must have always known about them-the private talks, the close embraces, the tenderness of their friendship. A blush spreads up my neck at the thought."

Did the reviewer miss that we’re talking about Victorian England here? And is it unusual for someone to react with shock when a friend whom they never suspected of being gay comes out? Did she miss that, when fate tears Pippa and Felicity apart, Gemma rests her palm on Felicity’s back and says, "You will love again"? Did she miss that the author’s own father was gay? Did she miss that Libba Bray has gone on record in her support for gay teens? I just want to clear this matter up for anybody who might have read "Kirkus"’ review.

One more credit: When Felicity and the Gang find the Tree of All Souls in the Winterlands, Felicity gives a spectacular narration on the visions she receives when she lays her hands on its bark. This chapter carries on a magnificent tradition of trance sequences that can be found in Lennie’s last hallucination in "Of Mice and Men", Rupert Birkin’s naked moment in the grass in D.H. Lawrence’s "Women in Love", and Milkman’s visit to Circe in Toni Morrison’s "Song of Solomon". Yet again, with "The Sweet Far Thing", young readers will find that Libba Bray challenges their intellects and imaginations while giving unshrinking voice to contemporary and historical controversies.