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The Girl of Fire and Thorns

2011-12-26T23:37:00.002-05:00

I knew The Girl of Fire and Thorns was going to be fantastic the second I saw the Tamora Pierce praise on the cover. (Blurbs work, people, they really do.) I grew up reading and re-reading Tamora Pierce novels to the point where I had to put plastic laminate on my copies so the covers wouldn't fall off. Allow that particular tidbit of information to give proper weight to this statement: while I was reading Carson's novel, I felt a spark of that feeling I had so many years ago of reading Woman Who Rides Like a Man for the very first time. It was this quiet delight mixed with anxious desire that the story keep up with its fascinating arc and not take a turn for the predictable or tame -- and I was never once disappointed. There's an awareness that the culture and mythology presented here is new and not simply a recycled version of another novel; while Carson's writing might reveal echoes of something like Pierce's influence, she has her own brand of magic, religious twists, cultural depth, and intricate detail. All of this combines to make Rae Carson a wildly talented new voice in YA fiction that you should read straight away so you can experience her storytelling prowess for yourself.

Lucero-Elisa de Riqueza, Princess of Orovalle, is the chosen one. Every century, a person has been called to the service of God -- and when the princess was seven days old, God's light descended upon her during her dedication day ceremony and left the Godstone lodged in her navel. The Godstone is very real sign that she has been chosen for service, and Elisa has grown up with the burden of this knowledge physically lodged in her body. Unfortunately, Elisa also feels grossly incapable of doing anything noteworthy and struggles with the awareness that many also share this opinion, knowledge she gleans when she catches their silent stares of disbelief and disgust. Overweight and only truly committed to studying religious scriptures, Elena is not the usual candidate for service to God, despite her elevated royal status. The Girl of Fire and Thorns opens on Elisa's wedding day. A very rushed decision was made for Elisa to marry King Alejandro de Vega of Joya d'Arena, a northern ally of Orovalle. Deeply aware that she must have been the counteroffer to the idea of marriage to her beautiful and capable elder sister, Juana-Alodia, Elisa hopes that King Alejandro will be old and ugly so she is not such a disappointment to him. When King Alejandro turns out to be a quite handsome and charming widower, Elisa doesn't know what to think, though she's much relieved when he appears kind and doesn't seem put out at her request that they do not immediately become intimate. Instead, they talk and Elisa is uncertain what her feelings are towards her new husband when they set out for Joya d'Arena, leaving behind everyone and everything Elisa knows except for two trusted servants. The journey is dangerous and one of Elisa's servants dies along the way, fatally wounded while escaping a burning carriage that was set ablaze in an attack on their party. During that same attack, Elisa saves Alejandro's life and begins to understand that her Godstone goes ice cold when she is in serious danger. (Having been sheltered in the palace her whole life, Elisa assumes there will be a certain amount that she'll learn about the world, but she really has no idea just how shielded she has been.)

Upon arrival in Joya d'Arena, Elisa realizes that Alejandro is not ready to tell his people about his marriage, and so it is kept secret and she has to navigate the treacherous waters of court life without her secret husband's assistance. She makes an immediate enemy of a woman on the king's council that Elisa believes must be Alejandro's mistress, a woman who sends her personal maid, Cosmé,to assist Elisa (and, presumably, spy on her). Constantly watched and yet quite lonely, Elisa discovers that the only benefit to her arrival in Joya d'Arena is something she had never even suspected she had been without -- a whole world of information about the Chosen ones that Elisa had never known... and, indeed, information that was purposefully kept from her, not just by her father or sister or trusted servant but by her entire kingdom. The reader and Elisa both have even more questions as we go further down the rabbit hole. The Chosen ones might all have a destiny, but what happens if they die before fulfilling it? And how would they even know if their role was fulfilled? Does a great contribution have to be a large gesture or perhaps it's something small? And why do the enemies of her people command a powerful magic that no one else can seem to channel? How is Elisa ever to help her people triumph over such a fearsome foe? This is only the beginning of Elisa's story and the most dramatic action is to come as Elisa is kidnapped from the palace and marched across a vast desert so she, the Chosen one, might help a struggling people. The complications continue as she comes to understand that her kidnappers might not be the true enemy -- for there is one far more fearsome quickly crossing the desert to destroy all who oppose them. They wield dark magic, magic with a deep connection to Elisa and her godstone, and their victory would mean death to Joya d'Arena, Orovalle, and the world as Elisa knows it.

Things do not come easily to Elisa and for that, she's a heroine to be admired. Much of her life is dictated to her and she finds it hard to motivate herself to take action. That's most obvious when it comes to her weight, but is a common thread in her life as she spends more time reacting to events than taking action. When Elisa finally does take charge, the reader wants to cheer, having seen her grow and become more confident in herself, but it's not an easy journey. Be prepared to wade through the self-pity at the beginning of the novel -- I promise it serves a purpose -- so you can watch Elisa blossom in to a young woman who can wield real power. I despise the way so many books assume you'll take up the side of the main character simply because the author tells you to. In The Girl of Fire and Thorns, the reader comes to believe in Elisa... even before Elisa really believes in herself. Additionally, many novels feature a main character who is an outsider and is forced to quickly learn about a new place, but I appreciated the twist in Elisa's case: she's always been in the thick of things and yet was incredibly sheltered from so much knowledge. She and the reader learn about the history of other Bearers and there's no massive infodump. Learning about the world is another matter, though, as the reader gleans bits and pieces as the story progresses. It's not unpleasant and left me hungering for more, asking questions that were only tinged with curiosity and not impatience for deeper understanding. There is such rich material in this world that one feels as though Carson could spend volumes on the culture, religion, and history of Orovalle, Joya d'Arena, and its surrounding area.

For those wondering, while I think this novel is purposely focused on Elisa and her personal development (and I greatly appreciate this), there are romantic elements to this story. Undoubtedly, there will be a romantic story that comes more to the foreground, but I'm glad The Girl of Fire and Thorns keeps its real focus on Elisa as she develops her own self-reliance and determination. She might be aided by others, be they friends or those with the potential to be more, but Elisa is standing on her own two feet as she works through the problems she faces. I'm not dismissing the romantic developments within this novel -- Carson makes some brave moves and her characters are all the stronger for it, but we're still dealing with a teen novel and a teenage heroine, so it's only right that we have some heart-fluttering moments and questions. That said, you'll also note that I'm giving no hints here about any leading fellows. No characters are quite as fully developed as Elisa, who takes center stage throughout the story and I believe this is a deliberate move. The reader might come to identify a few favorites and we certainly come to appreciate other characters and their particular contributions to the story, but one has the constant feeling that we'll get to know the key players better as we continue through the series arc.

A final note to address, if only because it's a somewhat unique element of this story, is the religious storyline that runs throughout the novel. Elisa, given a destiny by God, finds her greatest solace in reading sacred texts and is almost constantly praying. People who have a huge problem with religion might be displeased with this book but despite the emphasis on "God," I think it's important to recognize that this is not Christian lit. (Not everything with one god qualifies as Christian, guys.) Elisa has faith in a God and this God is important and very very real in her life and the lives of the people of this world. (Aside from the whole godstone thing, there are facts hinted to in The Girl of Fire and Thorns and more fully noted in The Crown of Embers, the sequel, which discusses how Elisa's people were actually brought to this world from a dying planet by God.) The presence of this God ensures that we accept there's a higher plan at work here, even if it doesn't (often) lead to deus ex machina styled scenarios. (This is much more of a clockmaker God than one who takes an active role, despite having relocated a whole people to a new planet which is, admitted, very hands-on.) Religion can be a touchy subject, so it's often skirted in fantasy YA that isn't specifically trying to address it. Personally, I had no problem with the addition of a religion to the mythology of this world -- I even welcomed it as an intriguing aspect to the story. There's the possibility for things to stretch too far in to the "God has a plan" direction but I'm willing to see what Carson has in store for us with this. I have faith it will be somewhere fascinating.

So as you can see, I was a huge fan of The Girl of Fire and Thorns. I devoured the book and was immediately hungry for more. Carson can't write fast enough for my taste and I can't wait to find out what happens to Elisa and those supporting characters who will come to play larger roles in the series. One can already tell that strong personalities don't always lead to constant harmony and Elisa will have to step on even some familiar toes if she's to assume her destined role and continue to make tough devisions. I don't quite know where Carson will take us with this series, but I'm content to be swept away with the story. She's proven herself worthy of my literary trust and I hope she has the same impression on many, many readers.

Full disclosure: I do not work on this book, but it does factor in to my professional life. However, my review here expresses my own personal opinion.

A Christmas Carol

2011-12-25T22:59:00.002-05:00

The story of A Christmas Carol is one that most of us in the Western world know fairly well... in fact, I would wager that most children over the age of 7 in the US or UK could give a pretty good breakdown of the general plotpoints with ease. But did we actually read the Charles Dickens classic to gain this knowledge? Or is your understanding of the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future the result of a film adaptation? I'm not railing against movie adaptations, as I think A Christmas Carol translates brilliantly to film... to the point where we might all know the plot of this particular story as a result of a movie that puts a twist on the original tale. My personal favorite is The Muppet Christmas Carol, though a close second is Scrooged.

My only previous read of the actual text of A Christmas Carol occurred back in sixth grade. It's a short little novella and was a good introduction to Dickens, as his other tomes seemed daunting to an eleven-year-old. One can easily breeze through A Christmas Carol in a single evening, curled up by the fire with Christmas lights twinkling and presents under the tree. That said, A Christmas Carol really isn't something I would opt to re-read year after year. Here's where those film adaptations become very, very useful. You watch the Muppets, Bill Murray, Ebbie, or Scrooge and you've had your yearly dose.

This year, I noticed an Audible performance of A Christmas Carol done by Tim Curry and it simply had to be purchased and immediately loaded on to my ipod. I listened to it over the course of three days, knitting a Christmas present on my commute to work. I was surprised at how few details slip through the cracks in various performances and I was comforted by how familiar the words were to the point where I could have recited many passages along with Curry. (And some of them were even ones I could do without Gonzo's voice.) The story is timeless and it's hard to imagine the holidays without this particular tale in existence, when in fact it was only published in 1843. This might be a bit blasphemous to say, but it's second only to the actual origin story of Christmas in terms of our association with this time of year. Beyond Christmas, think of the cultural contributions of this novel to our general lexicon. Think of such outstanding quotes as "Mankind was my business," "as solitary as an oyster," "there's more of gravy than of grave about you," and even "'Bah,' said Scrooge. 'Humbug!'" Tim Curry gives a fun reading with voices that are never too ridiculous. I'll admit that I hoped for a little bit more, though I'm not quite sure what. Some flash, a bit more panache, something. I've listened to Curry read the first in the Series of Unfortunate Events and that was pure magic. Here, it was certainly amusing enough but I didn't feel the same delight for which I had hoped. I'm not sure I could reconcile the visual of Tim Curry anywhere in the story but as a voice in your ear, it's a fine way to experience A Christmas Carol for the first time in its original form or as a re-telling that isn't brought out with the rest of the Christmas DVDs and tinsel each year.

So on this Christmas Day, I leave you with this, quoted from memory:

"And it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any many alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless us, every one!"

Last-Minute Knitted Gifts

2011-12-18T23:34:00.000-05:00

This just goes to show that you can never be quite sure what I'll be reviewing here.
I don't often review knitting books, but Open Road put this up on NetGalley and one should always try to review what one requests. A pretty little book, Last-Minute Knitted Gifts by Joelle Hoverson delivers exactly what it promises -- a collection of patterns that take less time than you might otherwise think. The gifts that are truly short on time aren't necessarily something that serious knitters will be tempted by (and, let's face it, the "linen tassel" for a bookmark is a bit of a joke and doesn't quite belong here), but for those knitters who are just starting to stretch their legs, this might be a nice book to consult when you're looking to find something that knits up "quickly." Note that "quickly" is a somewhat relative term, as there are patterns for blankets and sweaters in here... they just happen to be somewhat simple ones. The book itself doesn't seem concerned that "last-minute" usually implies that most of these patterns should be for quickly knit items... not perhaps one-skein things, but at least things you could conceivably finish within a few days (where the entirety of that time isn't spent furiously knitting). Some of these are definitely "Oh dear, so-and-so's birthday is a month and a half away, what do I do?" kind of things, so take "last-minute" with a grain of salt. There are some particularly pleasing scarf patterns that provide some nice inspiration and there's a pretty set of hand/wrist warmers. I, for one, will be making ample use of the angora bootie pattern as I struggle to keep up with knitting some tiny-yet-heartfelt presents for pregnant co-workers.

Abandon

2011-12-16T23:03:00.001-05:00

Meg Cabot's latest series is a dip in to the supernatural and mythological. Abandon features a marketing tagline of "She knows what it's like to die. Now Death wants her back." It's... sort of accurate, but rather sounds like a horror movie rather than a supernatural romance, right?

With a new spin on the Persephone myth, Abandon moves the story of a young girl drawn in to a relationship with Death to the setting of modern-day Florida... specifically, to Isla Huesos (aka Island of Bones) where secrets (among other things) don't seem to stay buried. Seventeen-year-old Pierce Oliviera is a bit different from the average teenager. You might point to her family's incredible wealth (her father is CEO of a large, environment-damaging company) or her parents' messy divorce that has her mother dragging Pierce back to the mother's own family and hometown. But really, the main thing that separates Pierce from every other teen (or adult, for that matter) is that she's died and returned to life. She can patiently explain the scientific descriptions of her body's shut-down and revival or what studies say the often-reported bright light might mean... but she can't actually describe what happened to her or she'd be labeled as crazy. Crazy is exactly what most people thought when she came back to life and started talking about much more than a bright light: finding herself in a place where she was pushed into a line, this man on a giant horse who she'd met before as a child, her sudden removal to a very calm room with him before he talked about her staying there forever, and the moment when she threw tea in his face to escape...

But let's back up for a second here.

The story begins with all that death experience in the past and Pierce trying to start again as a normal teenager in this new town. Cabot chooses to reveal information about Pierce's past in flashbacks, often triggered by the sudden appearance of the dark and brooding lord of the underworld, who seems to lurk around town with alarming frequency... particularly when we go in to this bit about how there isn't just one underworld and this guy is actually not Hades or anything, he's just the designated overseer for this particular underworld entry point for this zone. Hm. I'll also note that Pierce's moments where she pauses to remember something aren't clear and obviously delineated from what's going on at the moment. They're really hazy and sketchy flashbacks that make the reader wish she'd be just a little clearer and just get it all out there already. Quite honestly, that's my big criticism of the book, so I might as well get it out there, too. If Cabot is trying to distract you from the fact that this is a story about a boy (whose name is John, btw) who wants a girl back and a girl who doesn't quite want to admit she wants the boy back... well, then at least she succeeded in confusing you for long stretches of time.

When you finally have all the puzzle pieces, the story is mildly intriguing -- Pierce, as a child, met a dark man in a cemetery as she waited for her mother and grandmother to finish dealing with the details of her grandfather's funeral. Years later, Pierce drowned in the swimming pool in a theoretical accident and met him once more. This time, he was very interested in keeping her with him, but she fled (which is somewhat uncharacteristically brave of Pierce) and now she's back in the real world... unable to separate her near-death experience from the rest of her life, no matter how hard she tries (which isn't very hard at all) as stalker-John keeps popping up.

Readers of Twilight might be particularly intrigued with Abandon as it had a similar feel of fated (yet founded on nothing substantial) love that the characters struggled against in a half-hearted way while darker forces lurk about. As a set-up to a series, Abandon doesn't quite feel complete enough on its own, so you should probably be willing to commit if you embark upon this one. It's not unpleasant, but Pierce wasn't exactly a strong heroine. She was, in fact, quite a dim bulb at times (example: trying to catch a lecherous teacher in the act but failing to have a camera or something stashed away? or a plan as to how to escape?). John always has to swoop in and save her and we then proceed with the inevitable descriptions of cosmic attraction.

Abandon is a quick read and will, I imagine, have some adult cross-over fans who appreciate a twist on Greek mythology and some steamy (yet still YA acceptable) romance. Rather than give this two stars, I yielded to the fact that I did fall in to the world quite quickly, though I think a large part of the interest was in untangling the narrative as it looped around on itself. As far as the Persephone stories for this year go, I preferred The Goddess Test, but I'll still be interested on seeing where Cabot takes this series arc, as I can't quite suss out exactly where this is headed while still sticking with the mythological angle.

Shatter Me

2011-12-15T23:45:00.000-05:00

My advice to you is this: if you are a YA fan and have not read (or, indeed, do not know anything about) Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi, then don't read this review beyond the first paragraph. Go find yourself a copy but do not read the summary, do not look for anything online, just start reading. Let this utterly fascinating and completely riveting story engulf your senses and steal away with your afternoon. Bid it farewell with delight, for the hours spent reading at breakneck speed be well spent. Be warned, though -- if you read this on public transportation, you will miss your stop. If you try to read this while something is cooking, your food will burn. Attempting to only read part of this novel will be a very hard task, as it will set upon your attention like a terrier, refusing to relinquish its hold until you've read every last word. So just trust me and go.

I will assume the rest of you who are still reading have already (a) read the book or (b) at least read enough to know the general plotline. I'll confess that I knew nothing whatsoever about Shatter Me before reading it which might be surprising, since everyone around me was raving, but I absented myself from conversations that got too specific. I only knew that those people were being so complimentary and several of them were people whose opinions actually mattered in my estimation. Rather than trying to educate myself, I decided to just start the novel and I cannot begin to describe my delight in this experience as I was swept away in the strong current of Mafi's storytelling. The story is deceptively simple and, frankly, somewhat common in its basest form if one considers the large number of dystopian novels piling up on our shelves these days. Yet I feel as though Shatter Me is a unique and precious tale, made rich by an author who allows us to see with new eyes.

Our narrator, Juliette, has been locked up for 264 days, during which she hasn't spoken to or touched another living soul. The reason the whole "hasn't touched" part is important is because Juliette's touch is what landed her in this cell, a prisoner of the Reestablishment. By touching someone, Juliette can inflict pain and can even kill. It's unintentional; it just happens. She doesn't know how or why but the mere fact has made her a prisoner, someone far too dangerous to allow to remain uncontrolled, particularly when it seems the Reestablishment is having difficulty maintaining power. Much of the beginning of her story is told in crossed out lines -- journal confessions adjusted so that the reader knows the conflicting thoughts and feelings within Juliette, who's struggling with her own comprehension of her situation, not to mention her sanity.

Stuck within the confines of this cell, with only her own thoughts for company, it's no surprise that Juliette herself clings to language like a life preserver and while some might find the prose to be a bit much, I thought it was rather fitting for someone who has all the time in the world to turn thoughts over in her mind. She's a bit strange, but then, so would we all after 264 days without real contact from another living soul. It's no surprise, then, that the introduction of a cellmate throws Juliette's world in to total chaos... particularly when that cellmate is a young man and perhaps not a stranger.

I won't go any further than that, really, where it comes to specifics. Juliette does see the world outside of this prison and we come to understand that the world is in chaos and the Reestablishment is barely holding on to control. While Juliette might see herself as a monster, there is the undeniable fact that she is powerful... and Juliette needs to decide whether she'll become a weapon or a warrior in the fight that could see the Reestablishment firmly in control or completely overthrown. It cannot all happen in the course of one book, but we definitely see a set-up for Juliette that presents her with options for her own life, love, and purpose.

There appear to be two camps where Mafi's writing is concerned and I'm rather firmly in positive camp. There are moments when action or emotions could have been described more succinctly, but personally I was never truly displeased with the more elaborate style of communication that Mafi/Juliette adopts. The love triangle is both strange and a bit predictable. The obvious good choice is so very good and the obvious villain is perhaps even more appealing for sheer interest value. The dystopian society is intriguing enough for a first novel in a series where one knows the second will likely take us further in to the complications and details of conflict. As I mentioned before, it's not the world itself that is the most intriguing, but Juliette's perspective and journey. Great storytelling can come from a tale that everyone has heard as long as the story is told well and I feel that Shatter Me is very illustrative of this concept.

I know that Juliette's power is all very X-Men, so I have trouble pinpointing exactly why it still felt like a unique idea for a dystopian novel setting. I think my favorite parts were all a little twisted, so maybe that's where my X-Men affection comes in. We might think we know exactly who's good and who's bad, but I'm looking forward to learning more about what compels both sides. I have a feeling it's all more complicated than we think. And with so many dystopian novels out there, I'm really relying heavily on my connection with the characters to be what sees me through. The crumbling world isn't what kept me reading late in to the night... it was Juliette and watching her cope. Everyone else might be falling to pieces, but Juliette is just learning to build herself up in to something strong and fearsome because her power cannot be ignored. She is not normal and that isn't something for her to lament any longer. She has to embrace it if she's going to survive. Shatter Me features a female character who has to find her own strength and courage (sure, there's a cute boy around to help her do that, but the romance here can be quite fun, so I accepted it... harder to accept is the standard girl in a pretty dress on the cover but whatever) and I'm looking forward to the next stage in this series. I sure hope it keeps the momentum going because I was delighted with this and it deserves some fantastic follow-up.

Full disclosure: I don't work on this book, but it does factor in to my professional life. My review is my own personal opinion, though, so weight this knowledge as you see fit.

Hark! A Vagrant

2011-10-02T20:02:00.002-04:00

If you have not yet been exposed to harkavagrant.com then I can only surmise that all the time you've spent on the internet to date has been wasted. Go rectify the situation immediately and while you're at it, go buy Kate Beaton's first book Hark! A Vagrant, a compilation of comics from the site with some book-exclusive comics tossed in to the mix.

I first came to know Kate Beaton's work after discovering her "Dude Watchin' with the Brontes" strip, where Emily and Charlotte ogle assholes and when Anne identifies them as such, her sisters respond "No wonder nobody buys your books." This might be her most famous strip and it kicks off the collection, but all of her work is like this -- smart, funny, and rather irreverent. The subject of her comics usually find their origins in literature of history, even if the interactions shown here may not have actually happened. (Case in point, when Tycho Brache responds to Johannes Kepler's suggestion of the earth orbiting the sun with "What if your wife orbits my dick.") Beaton expects her audience to be educated and to pick up on her clues as she's not about to waste time and valuable comic-space explaining subtleties to you. There are the occasional themed strips -- such as her exercise in guessing the plots of novels with covers drawn by Edward Gorey or Nancy Drew novels based solely on the jacket art -- and certain characters will reappear, depending on their popularity with readers. Some of my favorites include Sherlock Holmes and his Watsons, pirate nemeses, and the various French Revolution figures. Because Beaton is a Canadian, folks from the US might do a terrier head-tilt of confusion at a few of the strips, but even those comics will usually result in a chuckled (and a quick trip to Wikipedia to learn something about Canadian history).

For those of you thinking, "I love Kate Beaton's online comics, but is this book full of new ones or couldn't I just read most of it online?" my honest answer is that there isn't a lot of new stuff and most of what's in the book is what you've seen before, but I still think you should buy the book. Tally up the amount of time and the intensity of laughter provoked by her webcomics and I think you'll find that the price of this book is actually quite a steal. I will happily give Kate Beaton money with the knowledge that it's going toward supporting such a fantastic cartoonist. Think of it as compensation for the great amount of amusement we've had as a result of reading comics on her site bundled with a down payment on future work that will be just as delightful. So I hope that if you've enjoyed Beaton's work as I have that you'll go support her and buy her book. Just think -- now Charles Dickens and his simpering heroine fetish will always be on your bookshelves for your reading delight. So hot.

Daughter of Smoke and Bone

2011-09-21T20:44:00.003-04:00

Go to your calendar and circle September 27th, 2011. Right now. Make whatever preparations you must to ensure that you have the day to yourself. I'm serious here. Take the day off from work or plan to be sick from school; buy groceries the night before or have take-out numbers handy. Trust me. This book is worth it and once you start reading, you will not want to set it down.

I was blown away by Laini Taylor's Daughter of Smoke and Bone. From cover to cover, I delighted in it all. The creative storyline, the fantastic characters, the clever writing. At BEA, I went to a YA panel where this book's editor spoke at (somewhat excessive) length about her adoration for this book, though she gave surprisingly few specific details about its general plot beyond what the tagline and backcover would indicate. I decided to take a chance and just read it -- and when I finished reading, I immediately wanted to start it all over again (and I haven't felt like that about a book since Anna and the French Kiss).

I now understand the editor's difficulty in summarizing, as general statements don't do justice to the fresh voice and wit that infuses what is absolutely one of the best YA reads published in 2011. There are hints of Neil Gaiman and Clive Barker (the Abarat series, not the horror adult stuff) and yet there's still the allure of a mystery novel coupled with romance and a strong heroine with whom one can identify. It all starts with these fantastically tantalizing lines:

"One upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love. It did not end well."

The novel opens with Karou, a blue-haired, teenage art student in Prague whose ex-boyfriend, Kazimir, is a jerk. A creative jerk, no less, and as such, Kazimir can find different self-centered ways of trying to make Karou want him again (read: make her life miserable, as she no longer wants him), like getting a gig as a nude model for her life drawing class to display (among other things) a newly acquired tattooed "K" over his heart. (Karou's friend, Zuzana, responds to this with, "Can you believe him? Does he think if he just dangles his boy bits at you like a cat toy you'll go scampering after him?") While many teenage girls might have insufferable ex-boyfriends in their pasts, Karou can do just a little more than others could about it... like make wishes and know they will come true... "Wishes, for example, for things like itches."

You see, the life she leads in Prague is only a small part of the world that Karou knows. Karou has a notebook filled with drawings of otherworldly things and while her friends wonder where she comes up with such fantastic creatures, Karou merely shrugs, because explaining that these chimaera, these devils, are the only family she's ever known... well, that could get awkward. Karou has been raised by Brimstone, the Wishmonger, and a handful of other chimaera. They might look like monsters, creatures cobbled together from pieces of animals and humans, and other things could never identify, but they are Karou's family and even when they've always been behind the door to the human world, they've raised her and loved her as their own. Following Karou's break-up with Kazimir, she was devastated and while every teenager finds a relationship conversation with an adult to be incredibly awkward, I found myself wishing I had such guidance as Brimstone quite bluntly offers:

"The Wishmonger's voice was so deep it seemed almost the shadow of sound: a dark sonance that lurked in the lowest register of hearing. 'I don't know many rules to live by,' he'd said. 'But here's one. It's simple. Don't put anything unnecessary into yourself. No poisons or chemicals, no fumes or smoke or alcohol, no sharp objects, no inessential needles--drugs or tattoo--and... no inessential penises, either.'
'Inessential penises?' Karou had repeated, delighted with the phrase in spite of her grief. 'Is there any such thing as an essential one?'
'When an essential one comes along, you'll know,' he replied. 'Stop squandering yourself, child. Wait for love.'
'Love.' Her delight evaporated. She'd thought that was love.
'It will come, and you will know it,' Brimstone had promised, and she so so wanted to believe him."

There are two doors in Brimstone's office and Karou is only allowed to use one of them (she's never seen the other one opened, in fact) which opens to any city one chooses (or at least any city where there's an accompanying magic door linked to it). Karou runs errands for Brimstone, occasionally (and far less than she'd like) earning wishes bigger than the measly old scuppies that created Kazimir's itch. More often than not, these errands involve fetching teeth, which Brimstone keeps in jars and Karou is not allowed to know what purpose they serve. And, as if this wasn't already odd enough, good teeth are getting harder and harder to find. Here's a selection from an errand scene:

"This errand turned out to be a black-market auction in a warehouse on the outskirts of Paris. Karou had attended several such, and they were always the same. Cash only, of course, and attended by sundry underworld types like exiled dictators and crime lords with pretentions to culture. The auction items were a mixed salad of stolen museum pieces--a Chagall drawing, the dried uvula of some beheaded saint, a matched set of tusks from a mature African bull elephant.
Yes. A matched set of tusks from a mature African bull elephant.
Karou signed whens he saw them. Brimstone hadn't told her what she was after, only that she would know it when she saw it, and she did. Oh, and wouldn't they be a delight to wrangle on public transportation?
Unlike the other bidders, she didn't have a long black car waiting, or a pair of thug bodyguards to do her heavy lifting. She had only a string of scuppies and her charm, neither of which proved sufficient to persuade a cab driver to hang seven-foot-long elephant tusks out the back of his taxi. So, grumbling, Karou had to drag them six blocks to the nearest Metro station, down the stairs, and through the turnstyle. They were wrapped in canvas and duct-taped, and when a street musician lowered his violin to inquire, 'Hey lovely, what you got there?' she said, 'Musicians who asked questions,' and kept on going."

Karou's life changes, though, the day she sees the angel, Akiva. On an errand for Brimstone, Karou is nearly killed by an angel and is just as strangely spared by him, as he hesitates long enough for Karou to be pulled through a doorway to safety... but safety is relative and it turns out that even while Karou knew more about the chimaera and their world, there is so much she does not know about the centuries-old battle they have fought against the angels... and there's even more she doesn't know about her own past.

The fascinating worlds conjured within these pages are dark and dangerous, but crisp in vivid details. Prague is made particularly magical and otherworldly, despite its existence in our own reality. It provides an excellent gateway to the lands of Taylor's imagination. The reader will have the sense again and again that one door is opened only to discover entirely new realities beyond, multiplied ad infinitum. Karou and her sharp sense of humor are immediate favorites with the reader. She has incredible strength and yet there's a guarded vulnerability to her, so keenly noted in her despair after her ill-fated romance with Kazimir and further illustrated within the drama of the novel. Her uniqueness is brought to light in a hundred ways, causing the reader to actually fall in love with her, rather than simply accept that as the heroine, we're on her side. Her own internal struggles and attempts to understand her place in the worlds feel incredibly real, particularly when her emotions are those which any teen might have. A need to be true to one's friends, an allegiance felt towards those who have sheltered one, and the exasperating desire for connection even while wishing for independence.

"Yearning for love made her feel like a cat that was always twining around ankles, meowing Pet me, pet me, look at me, love me.
Better to be the cat gazing coolly down from a high wall, its expression inscrutable. The cat that shunned petting, that needed no one. Why couldn't she be that cat?
Be that cat!!! she wrote, drawing it into the corner of her page, cool and aloof."

Just as Karou is a brilliant character, so are are Brimstone, Issa, Twiga, and Yasri. Taylor takes her storytelling time, easing us in to her creation, before we start to understand where the story is taking us. There's no need to learn everything at once and the reader will only be pulled deeper in to the story as truths dawn and one races to the finish to confirm if one's guesses are correct. I'll admit that I was a trifle concerned with the appearance of Akiva in his stony perfection at first, but he develops to have a beautiful depth as Karou and the reader learn more about the chimaera, the angels, their war, and that which the chimaera have sought to keep secret for centuries.

I'll stop there. Just go read. Laini Taylor has created something extraordinary here and the best news is... there's more. I honestly don't see how she could possibly top Daughter of Smoke and Bone but I'll be waiting on the edge of my seat to see her try with its sequel. Daughter of Smoke and Bone is full of magic, romance, mystery, and a rare creativity that I only hope is replicated and expounded upon in the next installment in what is sure to be a masterful series.

The Iron Knight

2011-09-09T20:16:00.002-04:00

The Iron Fey series is back with the final installment. (No, really, it's the FINAL one... until the next series starts up, that is.) If Julie Kagawa could have had her way, she probably would have opted to end the series on the wistful/slightly tragic note that The Iron Queen brings to the table, but no, she yielded to her begging publisher and fans... and so we have The Iron Knight. Those who haven't tackled any of the other books should definitely not start here, but fans of the series to date will inevitably be quite pleased with this storyline, as it tackles obvious problems and tosses in some fun twists in a truly Julie Kagawa style.

At the end of The Iron Queen, Meghan assumed leadership of the Iron Realm and, heartbreakingly, released Ash from his sworn vow to be her knight and protect her, as the fey cannot survive in her world of iron. Despite this, Ash promised that he would find a way to be with her or die trying, and The Iron Knight is that journey. His unlikely (slash way-obvious) companion on this journey is Puck, Ash's former best friend turned sworn enemy who Ash has pretty much stopped trying to kill since Puck lost out to Ash in the battle for Meghan's affection. (If you forgot, Ash and Puck's relationship went sour many years ago when Ash's girlfriend was killed and Ash blamed her death on Puck's actions. Ash swore that Puck would die at his hand, but the bros came to an unofficial truce.) Together with the cat Grimalkin, the three of them set forth to find the end of the Nevernever. There, Ash hopes to find the Testing Grounds at the End of the World, a place where Ash might be able to gain that which could allow him to survive in Meghan's court -- a mortal soul in exchange for his immortality. Consider what that would mean to Ash and Meghan's long-term relationship and you'll see why it's a big deal and he isn't too keen on voicing his plans aloud to anyone, even if they all understand what he's doing. Just the same, this is his quest and along the way, Ash, Puck, and Grimalkin pick up two surprising companions on their journey... one of whom is very shocking indeed.

I won't say any more in means of summary, because quite honestly, fans of the series will be reading this book without a review's encouragement. Those on Team Ash will swoon and those on Team Puck will see this as something to tide them over until Kagawa focuses her talents on crafting a novel solely for Robin Goodfellow. And even if you're on the fence about the series (as I was for the first two books), then you'll still probably read The Iron Knight simply because you're so close to finishing it all and you might as well just do it. It's certainly worth the read if the series gives you any pleasure, but it could never supplant The Iron Queen as the best book of the series.

Personally, I was rather pleased with Kagawa's twists, but ultimately found that one inparticular (involving the most surprising companion) didn't carry quite enough weight in the end and only fulfilled a minimal purpose to put certain issues to rest without much to keep the complication going. Once we get through the Nevernever to the End of the World, my favorite twist comes in to play, but things resolve with a disappointing predictability. The ending will be a shock to no one and should make fans who need a Happily Ever After (HEA) quite happy indeed, but one feels like Kagawa's heart isn't totally in the ending. Kagawa has confessed online that she's a bigger fan of the Ultimate Noble Sacrifice Ending as opposed to the HEA, and so one can almost hear her reluctant sigh, even if she is pleased with the level of fan devotion that all demanded a tidier end for Meghan and Ash. However, given that the whole book seems like a concession to fans, I have to give Kagawa props for coming up with the diverting ideas that she did. Now, folks, let's let her do a book with an UNS, because even if hearts break, I'll bet that it would be her best book of all.

Wiener Wolf

2011-09-09T19:46:00.004-04:00

If you've ever loved a little dog that didn't believe he was all that little, then this is the book for you. Wiener Wolf by Jeff Crosby is a delightful picture book that explores the wild animal nature of a very domestic dog. Wiener Dog lives with Granny and wears a knit sweater, slowly dying of utter boredom until one day when adventure seizes him and he flees to the wild woods. There, he becomes WIENER WOLF, casting off his sweater to join a wolf pack and delight in his new undomesticated life... until things get a biiiit too scary. Suddenly a can of dog food doesn't look so bad and Wiener Dog high-tails it back to civilization and the loving arms of Granny. The moral of the experience seems to be that every life needs a little excitement to keep from getting in a rut, even if that's just with some new friends at the local dog park. With fantastic illustrations, Wiener Wolf is a must for dog-lovers -- and oh man, if you know families with dachshunds, then buy this book for them immediately before someone else discovers this gem and does it. This is also the perfect book for if you need to explain to a child why Fido really wouldn't want to be a wild wolf... (or, similarly, why Mrs. Whiskerson wouldn't do well as a warrior cat). Just one read will leave you utterly smitten with Wiener Wolf.

Also recommended for those of you with dachshunds is the best Halloween book EVER written... The Hallo-wiener.

The Forest of Hands and Teeth

2011-09-08T23:04:00.002-04:00

Just when you're convinced that the YA market has been flooded with vampires and fairies, something really interesting comes along... specifically, comes lumbering along looking for brains. The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan is the first in a postapocalyptic series where flesh-eating zombies have overrun the world.

Mary lives in a fenced-in town in what was formerly the Appalachian region of the United States of America, and the residents believe it might be the last hold-out against the zombies (known as the Unconsecrated). The town is overseen by the Sisterhood and the Sisters ensure for the well-being of the people while the Guardians (men only, btw) stand watch over the fences and, God-forbid, alert the town if there is ever a breach in the fortifications and the Unconsecrated enter. The fence is the most important thing in the world -- for it is the only thing that stands between a conscious, God-fearing individual and the damning fate that is an Unconsecrated's "existence." Unconsecrated never cease in their search for human flesh, even as their own flesh decays and rots from their bones, and one who was once a mother, father, brother, or wife... well, as soon as they turn, that former association and distinction no longer matters.

Everyone in the village seems to accept the lives that they have been given, because there's not really much to tempt them to dream of better things, but Mary wants more. She wants to see the ocean, this mythical body of water that Mary's mother would tell her stories about when she was a child. It's not like anyone has ever seen it -- people have been born and have died within the village walls for generations now and this "ocean" is dismissed as a myth, to the point where Mary seems to be the only one to think of it at all. There is only the Forest of Hands and Teeth outside the fence, and the death and damnation that comes with a bite from the Unconsecrated. Meanwhile, the sole thing within the village that Mary *does* seem to want is Travis -- but it appears as though Travis will marry her friend, Cassandra. Mary's only chance for marriage, if she's realistic about things, appears to be Travis's brother, Harry. It's not that there's anything wrong with Harry. He obviously likes her, as he's often watching her, but he's not Travis. Reconciling herself to this is difficult, but on the day that Harry comes to ask if Mary will go with him to the dance that starts the beginning of the official courtship festivities, tragedy strikes. Mary's mother, grieving the loss of her husband to the Unconsecrated some time ago, got too close to the fence and was bitten. Mary's mother is taken to the Sisters and now everyone must wait to see if Mary's mother will turn. When it's obvious she will, the Sisters (and, frankly, everyone else) hopes that Mary's mother will choose death rather than surrender her chance at salvation by turning (an odd twist now on what constitutes a mortal sin, really), but no... mom is released in to the forest and Mary is devastated. Believing that she could continue to live with her brother and his wife, Mary is further stricken to learn that he will not have her in his home and that since Harry has not asked for her (for he did not alert Mary's brother to the whole asking Mary to the dance thing), Mary is sent to join the Sisterhood.

Within the walls of the Sisterhood, Mary embarks upon a life that would be mind-numbing if Mary did as she was told, but instead, Mary continues to quietly rebel and sneak about (but not in a fun way, lest you think this story is in any way light). Indeed, she has to do this quietly, as she's forbidden to speak. The sneaking around thing comes in handy when her beloved Travis is brought in after an incident while he was on guard and he needs to be nursed back to health -- and Mary happens to be on hand. Mary tends to him night and day (or every chance the sisters give her) and, unsurprisingly, their quiet and strange relationship deepens, constantly shadowed by a number of factors that all add up to the painful truth -- Mary cannot hope to truly be with Travis without their destroying Cassandra and Harry. But before you get concerned that this book is just like every YA out there, obsessed with the romantic entanglements, I would like to point out the romance is an important plot point, and yet this isn't anything whatsoever like your standard YA romance (minus the teenage longing in the face of terrible odds). Travis isn't the only person that the Sisters bring in to their sanctuary -- Mary spies a stranger, which is utterly impossible... because this would mean that their village is NOT the only village still standing and there are other settlements, full of other people, fighting against the Unconsecrated. Mary's life grows more and more complicated until the inevitable happens: the Unconsecrated breach the wall. Bloody, action-packed, and horrifying, the village's fall involves death and destruction on an epic scale. Mary manages to escape with a handful of others (and just who these companions are is related to a crucial plot point that I won't give away) through a secret corridor of fenced-in protection from the Unconsecrated that was used by the Guardians, but their little survival party has an incredibly twisted dynamic as they flee the only home they've ever known, uncertain if they should return or forge on with the slim hope of encountering other villages or, just maybe, the mythical "ocean."

As I've already indicated, The Forest of Hands and Teeth is not your average YA novel in many ways. To begin with, zombies aren't sexy. Vampires, werewolves, fairies, mermaids, angels, demons, ghosts, dragons, whatever... you can make each and every one of those sexy and accessible for teens, but try as you might, I just don't think that a classic zombie can be sexy. (I'm sure someone has tried, but I don't think I want to read that story.) So there goes the whole angle of a girl who (a) falls in love with a paranormal creature or (b) is a paranormal creature and falls for someone outside her realm of "acceptable" choices that are part of her particular paranormal sect. Instead, we have the paranormal element being a real honest-to-goodness threat and our storyline is set in the midst of this terror and chaos. I mentioned a love story and teenage longing -- oh boy is there longing -- but be warned now: most of it is implied angst or one-sided. We get a lot of Mary's perspective on everything, so we know that she's in love with Travis and she feels bad about Harry being in love with her when she wants his brother, but this isn't a story where we'll have steamy scenes or deep conversations in popular YA style. This could be disappointing for some readers who need romance in their stories, but it's also somewhat refreshing to get a different angle, something that isn't simply a PG-13 version of a bodice-ripper. You might be driven mad by all that remains unsaid, but it's definitely different.

The overall tone of the story is incredibly bleak, but again, I found this to be a really interesting choice for a YA novel in today's market. I simply haven't come across anything like it. Even things like Hunger Games, which has the same realistic struggle elements to it, at least makes the characters more open and accessible. Here, the reader is isolated with Mary and there is no real relief in the form of a connection that isn't otherwise so complicated that it's impossible to say anything. There's a lot of time where people aren't talking and, indeed, the Most Frustrating Thing Ever in this book is the fact that no one can bring themselves to say what they feel for fear of disturbing the established order. It's almost British in the total lack of honest communication. It's a clear choice on the part of the author to do this, but it can prove to be somewhat taxing as you move along.

That said, I definitely recommend The Forest of Hands and Teeth for anyone who's a bit fed up with the current YA scene and needs something different. Its appeal is hardly limited to YA fans, though, as it doesn't really feel like YA, except for the teenage angst and longing. Carrie Ryan may not have been able to make zombies sexy, but she sure as heck created a fascinating and compelling world that will have you wondering until the end at what lies in store, even if you want to smack most everyone upside the head along the way. This is the first in a series, but it stands on its own quite capably. Even if you tear through this book, it will leave you thinking about it for weeks. You may not like Mary and you may be frustrated with her world, but it's impossible to forget either of them. I haven't yet read the other ones in this series, but I've already bought them and tucked them away for a rainy day when I can sit on the couch, bar the door in case of zombie attack, and settle down with a book that I know will be twisted, emotionally wrenching, and thoroughly riveting.

The Mephisto Covenant

2011-09-07T22:34:00.001-04:00

After a somewhat rocky start, The Mephisto Covenant by Trinity Faegan presents an intriguing world set-up where good and evil battle for the souls of the living in very real and complicated ways... and evidently with a somewhat low success rate as far as the good guys are concerned. I want to warn you up front that the main problem with this novel is that the first few chapters are infected with an acute case of info-dump, thus making it difficult to warm up to the story at first with all the dense explanations, which could potentially cause the reader to set the whole thing aside. If you can manage to wade through the info-dump, though, then you'll see that the story finds its own peculiar rhythm and presents some interesting moments, though there are still some distinct flaws.

Teenage Sasha lives with her mother in San Francisco, but she's not terribly interested in school this fall. This past year, Sasha's "accountant" father was murdered in a hotel room in Russia, an act that was dismissed as a random robbery gone wrong, but this explanation does not satisfy Sasha in the least bit. She's desperate to find out just what happened to her father and will go to any lengths to discover the truth... even if that means striking a deal with a rather shady fellow named Eryx whose name has been whispered about town as heading up a secret society called the Ravens. Those who join the Ravens have been granted a wish and everyone seems to swear that their wishes come true. When given the opportunity to join, Sasha decides to see what Eryx can tell her, but it doesn't quite get to that point as she quickly realizes she's been set up and the leader of this particular sect of the Ravens is a rather evil fellow that used to date Sasha's mother and wants to hand her over to Eryx. (It's a small, evil world in this novel.) Sasha is nearly killed by mom's ex and his minions but a mysterious young man appears, freezes time, rescues her, lets spill some crucial information, and then wipes her memory. (As you can imagine, for the sake of the narrative, a silly little memory wipe won't exactly keep Sasha from feeling like she's missing something once she returns to life after the Raven attack.) The young man who saves Sasha is named Jax and he's not exactly young, seeing as he's a few centuries old. He and his brothers (who follow on his heels to deal with the whole Ravens group) are sons of hell -- and weirdly enough, they're kind of the good guys but with a twist. The sons of hell are the children of Mephistopheles, fated to rid the world of those who have pledged their souls to Eryx, who is working on behalf of Satan. This doesn't mean the sons of hell kill these people, as that would send their souls to Satan and only strengthen him, but rather, Jax and his brothers keep these individuals forever trapped in "hell on earth," an (endless?) cavern where they will never die and never escape. The righteous task of the sons of hell is mitigated by their own dark desires (sex, violence, etc.). They are doomed to eventual damnation, despite their "good" work, though there is just one tiny loophole that could result in their redemption. "The Mephisto Covenant" was made between God and Mephistopheles -- if a son of hell finds and falls in love with an Anabo (a pure soul and essentially an angel on earth), then his soul can be saved. The appearance of an Anabo is an incredibly rare event (indeed, the sons of hell have only ever come across two in their centuries' old existence). When an Anabo appears on earth, she is fated to a particular son of Hell, who catches her "scent" when near her and who then has the opportunity to save his soul if their love is true.

If you haven't already guessed it, Sasha is an Anabo. As "a daughter of Eve," she doesn't feel the same pull towards evil that normal humans do, even in simple jealousies or petty angers, as her soul is totally without sin. (The idea here is that Adam and Eve had a daughter, Aurora, prior to their Fall and Anabos are somehow the legacy of this.) Sasha's being an Anabo is a huge problem for Eryx, because (1) an Anabo's love can redeem a son of hell as previously mentioned and (2) only then can the Anabo and son of hell come together to bear children, who will also fight against Eryx with the rest of the sons of hell. Once the eldest member of the sons of hell, Eryx is now on the side of evil and constantly works to damn his brothers, too. The Ravens are simply a cover for Eryx's attempts to recruit souls for Satan, and once sworn to him, they can never be returned, unless he releases that person from his or her contract... which essentially never happens. A soul lost is lost forever.

But back to Sasha and Jax. Basically, Jax is obsessed with Sasha from the moment he smells her. After he and his brothers take care of the Ravens, it's all he can do to not watch her 24/7. He knows this is his chance at redemption and he's desperate not to screw this up, but there's no precedent for a son of hell keeping his Anabo love safe from Eryx -- only one brother has ever found his Anabo... and she was brutally raped and killed by Eryx before she could be taken to safety. Yikes. The only thing this taught the sons of hell is that once an Anabo is marked (aka has sex), Eryx will know where she is the same way that *they* know where she is and unless it's within the safety of their stronghold, then she is in great danger. Oh, and there's also the fact that the more time an Anabo spends with a son of hell, the more she becomes like him and begins to feel negative emotions like anger. And some intense strength and speed.

Was this enough information for you? To toss at you in the first few chapters? You think? Oh man. Just wait. There's more.

Sasha returns home from her ordeal with the Ravens (fuzzy on the details between when they attacked her and when she woke up, alone, without a scratch on her) to find her home life in uproar. Her mother is going to be deported back to Russia and Sasha is being packed off to Colorado to live with an uncle she never knew about -- her father's sister's husband. Worse than this, it appears that bad blood between her father and his sister means that her new aunt loathes ever fiber of Sasha's being and would kick her out on the street if it wasn't for Sasha's uncle who's always had a thing for Sasha's mom. Sasha has two cousins -- teenage boys that are polar opposites; one of whom is obviously as evil as his mother and the other plays video games all day. I don't think I need to go on about how horrifying this general picture is for Sasha, do I? It sucks. Of course, there is one up side to Sasha's expulsion to Colorado -- she now finds herself in Telluride, which is conveniently the exact same place where the sons of hell make their home. Still, it's not like she's safe because even there, a branch of the Ravens is popping up and you can depend on a rather shocking body count before the book wraps up.

On the whole, there's a lot about this book that's kind of confusing. The incredibly dense explanations and set-up at the beginning of the book is a real turn-off and it takes a while before you feel like Faegan hits her stride. While I doubt that many teens have read JR Ward's "Black Dagger Brotherhood" romance novel series, I was very strongly reminded of it once we got all the set-up details out of the way here. Each JR Ward book features one of the Brothers (vampire warriors) and the woman who will ultimately become his mate. Lots of denial/drama, lots of sex, eventual happy ending. In that world, vampires are born, not made; Brothers mate for life and they all live in a compound where they fight evil, which threatens both their race and humanity in general. This book has a similar premise, where Jax (who is often seen as the leader in a fight) finds his Anabo and there's drama before the eventual coupling. Honestly, I find the whole Anabo concept to be a bit weak, as there's no established explanation for their presence or rarity. It's not like it's something passed on within a family or one Anabo every generation (despite the Aurora link), which might make some kind of sense, but nope. Granted, it's possible that many Anabo have lived and died without being identified by the sons of hell, but still, it's disappointing to not have any real example as to why Sasha has appeared and why others have not really come before her in larger numbers. (Particularly given the fact that I'd bet you the subsequent books follow the JR Ward format of giving each brother his Anabo love.)

Surprisingly, despite the whole idea that Sasha is destined for Jax, there isn't the same assurance that they will naturally fall in love and this is one thing I appreciated. Sasha and Jax were surprisingly realistic about the chances of real love, despite their attraction. It might not be a very teenager thing to do, but Sasha actually questioned whether or not her feelings for Jax were real and her own or if they had to do with the whole Anabo thing. Sasha is very concerned about her free will and ability to decide for herself in all this... and Jax is rather all or nothing -- he doesn't want Sasha to feel like she needs to stay with him if they're not in love. (Those qualms don't keep them from making out every five minutes, of course, whether that be on ski slopes, at school, or in Jax's bedroom, but still, it's nice to see teens thinking with things other than their hormones.) The whole storyline puts a great amount of emphasis on free will on both sides of this equation. Of course, the benefit of free will is somewhat painted in a negative light, given that it's what's keeping Sasha in the world's most unhealthy living environment for much longer than she should (though perhaps the home life is about on par with how utterly horrifying school becomes when disgusting rumors about Sasha are spread around). In this world, people are definitely free to make their own decisions, even if they're the wrong ones and they carry the consequences of losing one's soul on foolish wishes, however well-intentioned. Good people are damned in the course of the book and the author treats this with care -- acknowledging that people can make bad decisions which have catastrophic repercussions.

As a result of the complicated moral questions, the somewhat bleak outlook on humanity, and a WAY steamier sex scene than one usually finds in YA, I would suggest that the younger teen set steer clear of this one. Faegan doesn't shy away from crafting dreadful scenes at school and home for Sasha. Oddly enough, it never really has to do with drugs or alcohol, which generally receive a pass in YA fiction when used as an excuse for teaching kids lessons about those evils... here, everything that people do to each other stems entirely from their own evil desires and thoughts. Sure, negative wishes are magnified in to really evil things when a person pledges their soul to Satan, but it's still terrifying what people are capable of doing entirely of their own volition in this book. I'm not talking axe murderers or rape scenes, but I am talking about terrible gossip, sexual assault, domestic violence, epic peer pressure, betrayal, and layers and layers of lies. (I didn't even go in to the whole twisted scene that is Sasha's family history here.) That said, all of these things are what make this book kind of interesting. The wide expanse of moral gray areas are fascinating and, let's face it, the reader is pulling for Jax and Sasha to get together for their own reasons and not for some pact, even if it does save his soul. There's something very oddly compelling about this book once you've worked through and sorted out all its mythology, but even that isn't totally enough to redeem it. Sadly, I thought the ending was somewhat of a let-down, being too simplistic and somewhat undermining the complications of the world. At least there's a conclusion and it doesn't end on a cliffhanger, as one is very aware that this is the first book of a series (this one is subtitled "The Redemption of Ajax"). It wraps things up too tidily for something that's been reveling in difficult choices and judgments. It was disappointing to not be able to absolutely say that the book turned itself around once the labyrinthine explanations were done with. I so wanted it to end with a bang so one could simply say that beginnings just weren't Faegan's thing, but it turns out the same is true for endings. Ultimately, her strength is in the middle stuff -- having fully gotten in to the world, she can do interesting things and I guess you better enjoy it while it lasts because all too soon you'll be sighing over a rushed and predictable ending. Still, I was entertained enough while reading it to be compelled to finish it all in a day. I haven't mentally committed to the idea of reading the sequel until I get some kind of confirmation if Faegan is, indeed, going the JR Ward route with the new love story in each book, but I'll certainly keep an eye out for it when summaries pop up to see if I'm right.

I'm not exactly sure who to recommend this book to... fans of super-convoluted moral orders? Fans of hidden and twisted societies that hide from our own and live with their own rules and mythologies? (If it's the latter, then I'd suggest you go read Daughter of Smoke and Bone for something truly good.) It's not exactly for fans of the supernatural set or even for those who love YA about angels. I'll be curious to see who rallies around this one, as it's certainly a unique read. I didn't love it, but then... I spent a lot of time trying to explain and unravel it, so clearly Faegan crafted a world that caught my attention.

Note: I received an advanced review e-galley for the purpose of review from NetGalley.

Sweet Venom

2011-09-06T22:48:00.002-04:00

Greek mythology is finally making its way from Percy Jackson to the teen market -- and Sweet Venom is a charming new adaptation of an old myth with new tricks. Popular culture leaves most people with the awareness of Medusa was a woman/creature with snakes for hair and a stony gaze that could turn anyone who looked into her eyes into, well, stone. In Tera Lynn Childs's "Medusa Girls" series, this isn't quite the whole story, as Medusa (and her two sisters) got a bad rap from a jealous god. (Isn't it always the way?) This isn't to say that the reputation was entirely a bad thing in the end, as it shielded her descendants from scrutiny. These descendants follow in her footsteps, turning the "family business" into guardianship (they are called "huntresses"), and making it their life's work to protect the general human populace from beasties that slip through a crack between the worlds, a crack which happens to be located in San Francisco.

Of course, Grace knows nothing about this. She's lived in the middle of nowhere USA with her family and she thinks the big adventure of her life will be their relocation to San Francisco so she can take advantage of a scholarship at a prestigious high school. That's before Grace sees a minotaur (though she appears to be the only person startled by it)... and *then* sees someone who could be her double show up to fight it.

This is how Grace meets her long-lost-twin, Gretchen.

Gretchen is a huntress and a damn good one. (In my mind, I pictured Faith from Buffy before she went totally nutso.) Saved from living on the streets by a mentor who trained her to fight the monsters that it seemed like only Gretchen could see, Gretchen isn't scared of the monsters now... she's mostly just pissed that between monster hunting and homework, she barely gets any sleep. What *does* scare her is the fact that her mentor has gone MIA and Gretchen has no idea what's become of her. Now this whole identical twin thing pops up and Gretchen doesn't do well with the personal/emotional stuff.

Grace and Gretchen have to come to terms with this newfound relationship and it really isn't easy for either of them. Grace has a loving family (and a very protective brother, Thane, who might notice when a girl identical to his adopted sister is walking around school) whereas Gretchen only really trusts her mentor and this soft version of herself could only be deadweight. Grace has to decide if she wants to help Gretchen in her fight against the monsters (if Gretchen even lets her)... and even if they can find a way to come to terms with each other, well... the surprises aren't over for this pair.

If you're looking for a story with dark twists and turns, you'll have to hunt elsewhere, because Sweet Venom is quite sweet and light indeed, striking a charming note in the often quite-dark-indeed paranormal teen genre. I'll admit that I scooped up Sweet Venom with only the awareness that this was a Medusa story and so I didn't read much beyond that... and maybe that it takes place in San Francisco. I was pleasantly surprised by the tone, which seems just as eager to tackle Grace's crush on her brother's friend Milo as the issue of various mythological demons cropping up in the Castro. Narration jumps between Grace and Gretchen in the beginning, allowing you to see both of their perspectives, which gives nice perspective -- and eventually allows Childs to do a fun twist which caught me slightly by surprise (in a good way!) and I'm pretending that it hasn't been spoiled for you with other reviews. Grace is obviously the "straight man" character and so provides the reader with the chance to be oriented in to this world while Gretchen provides attitude and knowledge. Later, you meet another important character who didn't seem to get the same careful depth as Grace and Gretchen, but the series is young, there will hopefully be time for that. The important note is that here, they are all distinct characters and don't immediately mesh together, and their differences will likely fuel many bits of dialogue in the books to come. I only hope Childs continues to let each character to continue to develop in an independent fashion as they grow, rather than falling prey to any easy shortcuts like allowing stereotypes to take the place of character development, which would keep them sounding different but deny them any depth. Given the care that Childs has shown to the characters thus far, though, I don't think she's in any danger of that.

I always appreciate when authors who use mythology are inclined to let the stories stand without wild adjustments -- or if there are adjustments, for them to happen in relation to the more modern setting rather than repeat "no, the history books got it all wrong!" over and over. Not that Childs doesn't make any adjustments... she tweaks enough to accommodate for her additions to the storyline, but there's no feeling of deep, egregious wrong or outrageous liberties being taken with the myths as most folks know them. I frequently found myself thinking that this book reminded me of Percy Jackson... only it wasn't trying so hard to be funny and it was a bit more grown-up (only slightly, as we're aiming for teens instead of tweens, but I imagine this novel would be totally acceptable for tweens, too). There's a definite girl-bent that will make this a hard sell for male readers, though it's refreshing to have a story where the romance is on the lighter side as opposed to being the sole focus with some other storyline details tossed in. Some interesting young men that factor in as romantic interests for the girls and I think we can bet that they're all more than they seem at first glance. (Indeed, they somewhat fade in to the background before the ending of the book, so I hope they come back with beefier storylines or some ability to contribute to the larger goals in the book.) It looks as though real romance or male character development will happen as the series unfolds, for Childs isn't rushing things there and I suppose I prefer it this way. Better to take it slow than create false drama to liven things up. All in all, Sweet Venom is a fun romp and a quick read -- a delightful beginning-of-fall novel as you look to curl up on the couch with something light and entertaining as the back-to-school crush might load one's plate down with heavier tomes. I'm certainly looking forward to the next in this series, as I think these Medusa girls have some very amusing storylines ahead of them.

Full disclosure: I don't work on this book, but it does factor in to my professional life. My review is my own personal opinion, but weight this knowledge as you see fit.

Cinder

2011-08-14T16:56:00.003-04:00

Okay, I'm going to level with you. This is a cyborg Cinderella story. There's just no mincing around the simple fact that the most economical way to describe Marissa Meyer's YA novel Cinder (Lunar Chronicles #1) is to admit that it's "a cyborg Cinderella story." When a friend handed me this galley and described it as such, I winced. I say it even now and I wince. (The cover sure doesn't help here, either. It's dreadful.) But wince away, because Cinder is much better than such a simplistic summary would suggest, delivering a strong heroine, an interesting futuristic world, and a plot that weaves in subtle-but-not-too-contrived nods to the original Cinderella story.

Linh Cinder is a gifted mechanic working a stall at the market in New Beijing, the capitol city of the Commonwealth. She also happens to be a teenage orphan and a cyborg. An accident at the age of eleven killed her parents, wiped out Cinder's memory, and left her as a part human, part robot creation, with both flowing blood and electronic wiring. Following that accident, Cinder was taken on as a ward to the Linh family by Linh Garan, but unfortunately Lihn Garan died right after this act of kindness and as a result, Cinder's been treated like a servant by Garan's wife Linh Adri and her two daughters, Pearl and Peony (well, by Adri and Pearl -- Peony is Cinder's only human friend and actually seems like a decent sort, if a bit silly). Since Cinder is a cyborg, she is a second-class citizen in everyone's eyes and she's actually considered the property of Linh Adri, so all income earned by Cinder in her market stall goes straight in to her wicked stepmother's pockets. Additionally, as a cyborg, Cinder could be drafted in to become a test subject for the government's research to find a cure to Leutmosis, a disease that has been ravaging the country for over a decade. It's luck alone that has kept her name from being called up, though Cinder is aware that the only reason Linh Adri hasn't "volunteered" Cinder for the draft testing is because they need her income from the market stall.

The novel opens with Cinder working in the market (well, sitting in her stall while dealing with her own too-small robotic foot that hasn't been upgraded since she was eleven) when an unlikely client shows up -- Prince Kai, the eighteen-year-old prince that will very soon become Emperor. Cinder recognizes him immediately (beyond her computer identification, her stepsisters are obsessed with the prince, along with practically every other single female in the Commonwealth), but he's dressed to blend in and is seeking the services of the mechanic Linh Cinder, of whom he's heard excellent things. Surprised to find that the teenage girl before him is the famed mechanic, the prince shifts in to pleasant bantering with Cinder as he requests that she fix his tutor android without wiping its memory. Cinder can tell that this isn't simply a sentimental request to restore the tutor droid, but takes on the job and says she will try to have it completed before the upcoming festival in two weeks. Naturally, things happen that delay this critical fix, though this doesn't stop Cinder and the Prince from running in to each other repeatedly. Prince Kai's father dies and he must prepare himself to become Emperor... which primarily means preparing himself to face down with the Lunar Queen, the power-hungry ruler of the strangely evolved race that lives on the moon. Cinder's beloved stepsister Peony contracts leutmosis after going out on an errand with Cinder and, blaming this tragedy on Cinder, Lihn Adri volunteers Cinder for the cyborg draft. Cinder does not die, but instead becomes a very interesting test subject to a rather interesting research doctor at the palace and I'll stop there before I summarize too much, but just accept that (in Cinderella style), there's a coach and a dress and a ball. Of course, this book is only the beginning of Cinder's story. Indeed, this series is slated to feature four books and while I can't quite conceive of what, exactly, will possibly occupy our time for long enough to take four books, I'm very interested to see what the next book has in store.

By far, the best thing to recommend this story is Cinder herself, a resourceful heroine who's been trampled upon for most of her life and will find herself in somewhat impossible situations... yet rises to great challenges to do what she can for those who care. She doesn't have much self-confidence, but is convinced that if she (with Iko in tow) can just get out of the Commonwealth and start somewhere new, like Europe, then she might have a short at a decent life, free from Linh Adri's control. Iko feels a little like an over-the-top Disney sidekick, with her vibrant personality and her own robotic crush on the prince. I wasn't terribly sold on Prince Kai's interest in Cinder, though I appreciate that they have multiple meetings, so it's not just a one-shot deal where he sees this slightly dirty mechanic and becomes smitten just because she's not some palace girl throwing herself in his path. The Lunar Queen is rather evil for evil's sake, so I'm looking forward to future books where we'll inevitably gain more information about the Lunar race. So yes, indeed, it's Cinder carrying the story, and yet I didn't mind that all too much. I'll definitely be reading the next installment to see what happens to Cinder and I'll be keeping my fingers crossed for deeper character development for those in the cast beyond Cinder.

Please note: this review is based off an ARC.

Divergent

2011-08-07T21:03:00.003-04:00

As the hot YA book of the summer, Divergent is a fast-paced and very interesting dystopian fiction from so-young-it-hurts Veronica Roth. Fans of the ever-growing dystopian genre will appreciate that, while many tried-and-true elements are here, Roth manages to keep the story fresh and fascinating. A perfect summer read, I highly recommend this as a great book to include on any weekend beach getaways. Oh, and it's set in a future Chicago, so folks from the Windy City will likely enjoy this even more than others.

Beatrice Prior lives in a Chicago where factions determine the kind of life you lead. Each faction highlights a particular virtue, suggesting that its members value this virtue above all others and it is how those members are defined -- Abnegation (the selfless), Candor (the honest), Amity (the peaceful), Erudite (the intelligent), and Dauntless (the brave). You may be born in to a particular faction, but that doesn't necessarily mean that's where you'll cast your lot when you turn sixteen and make the biggest choice of your life. Beatrice and her twin brother were born in to Abnegation; for Beatrice, the question of leaving her family is too painful to even really consider, but when Beatrice undergoes the dream test that is supposed to confirm the predictions of where each person will end up, Beatrice's test results come up shockingly (and dangerously) inconclusive. With this information suddenly placing the weight of the decision entirely on her own shoulders, Beatrice makes a surprising decision -- and, incidentally, so does her brother, though their decisions leave their family scattered in ways they never saw coming. There's little time to mourn what must be left behind, though, as Beatrice is whisked off towards initiation rites that leave her gasping for breath and horrified that she might not measure up, and so be cast out to become Factionless. As Beatrice struggles with what her inconclusive test status might mean for her, she throws herself in to the initiation rights and renames herself "Tris." She makes friends and enemies, and even takes tentative steps towards something more with one of her instructors, a rather withdrawn young man known as "Four." This is definitely the first step on a long road for Tris, but Roth presents a fast-paced and compelling world, riddled with interesting choices for people who believe they have none.

There are a large number of dystopian novels out there these days, but Divergent definitely one of the better ones. Granted, it is still one where, at this point in the game, you just kind of have to accept the societal structure (seriously, HOW would we progress to a point where these factions would form?), but once you've done that, you can enjoy the fascinating details and repercussions of focusing on one value. Tris is a character that audiences will love and her "divergent" nature presented right up front is an interesting concept. (Most books would let her whine and wonder if she's different before confirming it was late in the book, if ever.) While you know she's eventually going to be fine (or at least still be alive at the end of the book), its quite interesting to watch her friends and try to understand their trajectories towards success or failure within their faction. Roth doesn't shy away from killing characters, folks, so be prepared. The inevitable romance with Four still has a few tricks up its sleeve, I think, and I'm betting we can count on Roth to make sure that there's no such thing as smooth sailing in Tris and Four's future.

Overall, Divergent is a great summer read if you're ready to just enjoy something and not overthink it. Since Veronica Roth is so young, I think we can expect to see a great deal of YA lit from her in the future. Fingers crossed that it's all as good (if not better!) than her debut.

Please note: while I do not work on this book, it does factor in to my professional life, so weight my review as you see fit.

Bumped

2011-07-27T21:59:00.002-04:00

In the midst of all the dystopian novels that are out these days, Megan McCafferty's Bumped separates itself from the pack with an amusing blend of quirky humor and a world that is frightening not only in its differences from our current world, but in its hyper-intensified take on the familiar.

Let's start with the changes: a virus that seems to affect almost the entire world population has resulted in fertility taking such a nose-dive that most adults are sterile by 18 or 20 -- which means the baby-making has to happen early or not at all. In response, religious groups pretty much marry girls off as early as possible, but the rest of the world is starting to warm up to a different, more capitalist approach: pregging for profit. Teens themselves might not be ready to be a parent and raise a baby, but they COULD offer it for adoption... and a cash incentive from potential adoptive parents (or, say, the prospect of a free ride to college and a car) means that more and more girls are looking to get "bumped" early on.

Now let's shift to the eerily familiar -- though technically we started on "eerily familiar" when we introduced the capitalist greed element. Technology has made leaps in communication avenues (there exists an online system of communication called MiNet accessible via contact lenses where blinking cues control the program). Parents push their daughters into the idea of pregging for profit (the same way they already push extracurriculars, except now pregging is in addition to those sports teams and orchestra performances). Oh, and high school is still a cliqueish hell on earth, but that's kind of an "always has been, always will be" thing.

Melody's parents are economics professors, who long foretold of the day when a teenage girl's fertility would be the most valuable thing on earth. So Melody, herself an adopted child, was raised with the knowledge that she, too, would join the ranks of pregnant teens -- but she would do it as a professional (Reproductive Professionals are know as RePros). The first in her school with an agent and a contract to preg for a wealthy couple, Melody made professional pregging a widely accepted option at her school -- to the point where the professionals and the amateurs actually experience some tension. Melody, meanwhile, may have started the debate but can't really enjoy full participation in the argument... as she isn't pregnant. Her wealthy couple is dithering on male gene choices, so Melody is stuck with her own nerves about them wasting her valuable time to get bumped before the virus renders her sterile... and that's on top of the general nerves that accompany bumping at all. Her super pregnant best friend is slightly useless for all this stress, which would normally send Melody to her other best friend, a guy, but things have started to get slightly weird between them and Melody's not sure what to do with that, either.

Now, let's switch to Harmony. You see, Melody and Harmony are identical twins, separated at birth. Harmony was adopted in to a cult/commune religious community and it appears that when she learned about her twin, she simply went forth to try and convert her sister to the path of righteousness... but it's quickly apparent that Harmony is not quite as simple as all that might suggest. In fact, it appears as though she fled her beloved community in order to find her sister and very little proselytizing is going on, though Harmony does spend a lot of time marveling at the society and technological advances. Melody is slightly appalled at Harmony's presence, because it devalues her own stock on the RePro market if there's another person out there offering the exact same genetic material. Plus, to have one's long-lost twin show up on one's doorstep is not exactly normal. Inevitably, the fact that they are identical twins leads to all kinds of mix-ups and confusions, particularly when Melody is offered the chance to bump with the world-famous Jondoe... but Harmony is the one he finds waiting at Melody's house.

This may be a lot of information to take (indeed, the first 20% of the book has a rather steep learning curve as you dive in), but if you can handle a complicated world (and a WHOLE LOT of new vocabulary and slang), then you'll find that Bumped is shockingly deep in its assessment of the issues that arise from this world. McCafferty somehow strikes a fantastic balance between light-hearted humor and intense philosophical thought when it comes to the choices teens make. And that's not just limited to her world, either. The question of when to have sex and with whom and for what reasons. The idea of doing something because society (including one's parent) says it's the right thing to do, even when you're not sure it's the right decision for you. What to do when faced with unspeakable heartbreak and tremendously difficult decisions. Pretty deep for a YA novel that's core premise involves having sex and getting pregnant. Given that premise, parents may not think this a book for very young teens, but it's also not explicit or graphic, so I wouldn't really worry about it too much. Besides, it might even remind girls that sex is a complicated subject and shouldn't be something they rush in to without thinking of the consequences, both physical and emotional.

While you might grow a bit weary of the slang that the book creates (and you might have to keep reminding yourself exactly which twin is which), you'll also find yourself seriously thinking about the plot of this book (and the shocking cliff-hanger of an ending) for a long time after you set it down. Bumped is funny and thoughtful -- a combination that will keep you devouring page after page, desperate to know what decisions Harmony and Melody will make as their lives get even more tangled up. Now we only need to wait and see what interesting issues will arise in the sequel, Thumped, because even if certain plot points will be obvious, I would bet that McCafferty still has some surprising and fascinating things up her sleeve.

Full disclosure. This book indirectly factors in to my professional life. This is a personal review, but feel free to let that info factor in to what you make of this review.

Bossypants

2011-07-24T18:50:00.000-04:00

Note: if you are someone who enjoys audio books -- heck, even if you aren't -- then I highly recommend that you listen to the audiobook instead of (or in addition to!) reading the physical paper book of Bossypants. It's unabridged and Tina Fey herself reads it... I imagine the text would all be funny in print, too, but she frequently kicks in to actress mode and/or does voices. It's very very worth it.

To be perfectly honest, I had no idea what Bossypants was about when I purchased it. I only knew it was by Tina Fey and everyone seemed to be in a tizzy about it. So with a round trip bus ride to Boston in my immediate future, I went to Audible and bought what I knew would be an entertaining listen. I certainly wasn't disappointed, though I wouldn't use terms like "hysterical" or "riotous" to describe the funny collection of essays of which Bossypants is comprised. I snickered enough to get some looks on the bus, but I never really burst out laughing. If you've ever seen 30 Rock, then I think you know the style of humor that you're in for. Having not seen 30 Rock prior to listening, I still kind of knew. The ridiculous mixed with the so-real-it's-funny-but-also-kind-of-hurts.

Bossypants isn't strictly a humor book -- there's a reason it's in the memoir section. Consider this a collection of vignettes from Fey's life, ranging from her own childhood to motherhood. Snippets from behind the scenes on 30 Rock and Saturday Night Live were amusing. Perhaps my favorite simple observation was that when everyone started commenting on what a good Sarah Palin she would be, she realized no one (of the general public, that is) knew she has a new show and was no longer working on SNL. That said, her comments and observations on McCain and Palin are very interesting, indeed! In addition, Fey's perspective as one of the few high-profile comediennes out there puts her in an interesting position. Her feminist commentary on the state of the industry and the gender roles of comedy are fascinating and definitely became my favorite parts of the book. Here's one particularly fantastic selection featuring Amy Poelher:

Amy Poehler was new to SNL and we were all crowded into the seventeenth-floor writers’ room, waiting for the Wednesday read-through to start. There were always a lot of noisy “comedy bits” going on in that room. Amy was in the middle of some such nonsense with Seth Meyers across the table, and she did something vulgar as a joke. I can’t remember what it was exactly, except it was dirty and loud and “unladylike.”

Jimmy Fallon, who was arguably the star of the show at the time, turned to her and in a faux-squeamish voice said, “Stop that! It’s not cute! I don’t like it.”

Amy dropped what she was doing, went black in the eyes for a second, and wheeled around on him. “I don’t fucking care if you like it.” Jimmy was visibly startled. Amy went right back to enjoying her ridiculous bit. (I should make it clear that Jimmy and Amy are very good friends and there was never any real beef between them. Insert penis joke here.)

With that exchange, a cosmic shift took place. Amy made it clear that she wasn’t there to be cute. She wasn’t there to play wives and girlfriends in the boys’ scenes. She was there to do what she wanted to do and she did not fucking care if you like it.

I was so happy. Weirdly, I remember thinking, “My friend is here! My friend is here!” Even though things had been going great for me at the show, with Amy there, I felt less alone.

I think of this whenever someone says to me, “Jerry Lewis says women aren’t funny, or “Christopher Hitchens says women aren’t funny,” or “Rick Fenderman says women aren’t funny…Do you have anything to say to that?”

Yes. We don’t fucking care if you like it.

I don’t say it out loud of course, because Jerry Lewis is a great philanthropist. Hitchens is very sick, and the third guy I made up.

Unless one of these men is my boss, which none of them is, it’s irrelevant. My hat goes off to them. It is an impressively arrogant move to conclude that just because you don’t like something, it is empirically not good. I don’t like Chinese food, but I don’t write articles trying to prove it doesn’t exist.

If you're a fan of Tina Fey, then you've probably already read Bossypants by now, so I'm not going to spend time convincing you to read it. (Though you should go listen to the audiobook if you missed out.) If you're not already a fan of Fey, then this could very well push you in to the camp of a very funny lady... but more than just being a funny lady, Fey is a very smart person. When those two traits are combined in to one slightly awkward person? Well, then you have quite a force to be reckoned with in comedy and social commentary. Do yourself a favor and read (or listen!!) -- you won't regret it.

The Midnight Zoo

2011-07-20T22:20:00.003-04:00

A strange and heartbreaking tale, The Midnight Zoo is the latest literary gem from author Sonya Hartnett and features lovely illustrations by Andrea Offermann. Two young boys, Andrej and his younger brother Tomas, are walking through a war-ravaged countryside, scrounging up whatever they can to survive while they protect the precious bundle they carry -- their baby sister Wilma. As gypsies (known as Rom), the boys are used to the life of wandering, where every day brings them to a new place, but taking care of themselves is a very new responsibility and obviously has its roots in tragedy. While wandering through a destroyed and empty town, the boys stumble upon a very small zoo, whose animals are still captive in their cages despite the near-total annihilation of the human dwellings. The zoo contains a wolf, an eagle, a monkey, a bear, a lioness, a seal, a chamois, and a llama. Shortly after identifying the animals that surround them, airplanes appear and a sudden air raid threatens all their lives. When Andrej and Tomas wake up, the animals are speaking to them. Nearly everyone has a turn at telling his or her own stories of captivity, including the boys, but when everyone has been displaced and there's no way to return them to the lives they should have been living, what can possibly be done to go on?
Yes, the main human characters are children; yes, it's relatively short; yes, there's a fable-like quality to the story; but does this mean this book could only be classified as exclusively (or even primarily) a book for children? Most certainly not! As I read, I found myself thinking of this as an introduction to magical realism more than a story which depicted the magic of a children's book. Of course, magical realism is certainly not a concept that can exclusively be applied to books for adults, but somehow I feel like this novel merits the acknowledgement of providing a beautiful and quiet illustration of the concept for those (children or otherwise) who might otherwise only have encountered fantasy depictions of magic. It subtly creeps in, begging the question of what is real and asking the reader to suspend his or her disbelief for the sake of coming to a deeper understanding of what it means for any creature to be safe and free. Children and adults would have similar reactions to the emotions brought forth in this novel of war, tragedy, and flickering hope. Technically, the setting for this tale is obviously World War II, but after reading it, one feels as though this could be a theme that applies to any war which ravages countries and lives, putting innocents in danger. It is a novel to be read with a heart that aches for the world and its inhabitants... and at the core of all that is the desire to shape one's own destiny and the longing for freedom from many different kinds of cages.
I imagine that The Midnight Zoo is destined to be taught in classrooms or suggested for book reports. I can even see the prompted questions now, revolving around the meaning of freedom, the logic behind a story told largely by talking animals, the lack of explicit closure and open-endedness of the final chapter, and the possibility that the children and animals actually died in the air raid. It is a novel that easily yields itself up to questions because that is its goal -- to provoke the reader in to asking questions. I would urge adults to treat this as a novella and enjoy the multitude of topics which will undoubtedly now stir in their minds... topics which might not otherwise have large purchase, even for sensitive souls: the animal nature of human beings; the questionable justification for wild animals being tamed; the definition of a cage; the repercussions of even our well-intentioned actions on the lives of those around us, human or otherwise. The Midnight Zoo will stay with you long after you finish reading and reflection upon the story and its themes only makes it feel richer. I'm delighted to have been exposed to this beautiful novel and I look forward to discovering Sonya Hartnett's other work.

Legacy

2011-06-13T23:40:00.002-04:00

I really should have seen it coming. After reading for about 150 pages with the nagging thought of "Jeez, it's like a teenager wrote this"... Surprise! A teenager *did* write it!

Cayla Kluver evidently wrote Legacy when she was 14/15... and it shows. Don't get me wrong, she would have been a wildly talented and creative 14-year-old, but that doesn't mean we need to publish it. The world she creates is inconsistent and patchy, but its scale is large and there are certain plotpoints that aren't bad at all, even if the details and the characters fail.

Alera is the eldest princess of Hytanica, a deeply misogynistic land where the King only has two daughters, so obviously whoever marries Alera will be the next king. The time/setting appears to be kind of pseudo-Rennaissance era, where Christianity is the only religion and the monarchy presides over a relatively small country. Hytanica's other defining feature (besides the belief that women are weak and useless, I mean) is fear of its mysterious neighbor, Cokyri. Hytanica should have been demolished sixteen years prior in a war with Cokyri, but the enemy mysteriously withdrew from their advantage (after kidnapping and then leaving the corpses of nearly fifty Hytanican male babies at the gates the day they left). Only one child's body was never recovered -- so I think we can all guess what's coming with this little tidbit. Everyone seems to know this much about the war, but that's about the extent of Alera's knowledge (beyond wildly "feminine" things like embroidery, dancing, and household management). But that's all politics that Alera has obviously never been interested in before, or else she might know even a single fact about all that. Instead, Alera's biggest problem is that her eighteenth birthday is, traditionally, when the princess is supposed to marry and her only real option (or the only real option her father is gunning for) is Steldor, who resembles Gaston from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. After Alera blunders along for a while, doing things like turning in her best friend/trusted guard for knowing a wee bit too much about Cokyri than he lets on after a Cokyrian prisoner goes missing, we eventually get to the point where another Cokyrian named Narian is captured -- but no! It's actually the missing Hytanican child, son to nobles, who grew up to be Alera's romantic counterpart, though obviously he cannot be trusted and Dad's still pushing for Steldor and what's what you say? A war might begin unless Narian is returned to them because he's the key to a prophesy for bringing about the downfall of Hytanica? Mm-hmm.

Seriously, guys, I think the publishing world has only done Kluver a disservice by publishing this work. Legacy could have been something excellent had she spent a few more years living/revising. As I understand it, Legacy was originally self-published and now Harlequin Teen is picking it up, but apparently, they didn't want to waste money on an editor (or Kluver had enough pull to be able to reject every rational change). It feels like no work was done on this manuscript to help Kluver patch up the inconsistencies or guide her to add some depth to her characters -- even if she couldn't create characters that you don't want to punch in the face. Repeatedly. Alera is boring and rather slow on the uptake -- a painful example of a heroine that we're supposed to like just because we're told to, without any reasons. She's not very smart and she has no hobbies, wit, sparkle, or emotional depth. She makes poor decisions, going along with whatever others propose, and seems to have lived her entire life without an ounce of curiosity -- prior to now (else how can we explain her total lack of knowledge of her own country's history or its conflict with Cokyri?). Steldor comes off as self-absorbed and cruel, but Kluver wants you to think he's more than that, and so she tosses in enough contradictory behavior (which only succeeds in making him look bi-polar). Though I will say that while the ending of the novel moved in obvious directions, for Steldor and Alera, I didn't expect Kluver to let things go so far. Narian's appeal rests in his mystery, which is relatively maintained by his mostly mute state. The only semi-likeable character in the entire book is London, Alera's bodyguard who was once a prisoner of the Cokyrians -- and I think I only liked him because he seemed like a bit of an ass, but a slightly likable ass with honor and a brain (aka the only character in the book that seemed to possess an ounce of intelligence). At first, one wonders if Alera is supposed to fall for him, as he's not *so* very much older and Kluver has difficulty in differentiating the affection one feels for a romantic interest versus a father-figure, but no, we're just supposed to question his motives and then all-too-conveniently bring him back when his expertise is needed. The most annoying figure of all, however, is a young bodyguard whose behavior would easily have earned him a beheading after one or two scenes, and yet he was peristently judged a decent figure to protect the princess. Personally, I would have been delighted if London killed them all in a post-traumatic-stress fit.

I know this might seem harsh, but I'm really disappointed in the general group of adults who didn't do enough to help Kluver develop this manuscript more and instead pushed it out in this state, as there's the potential for semi-decent fantasy/romance YA in all this mess, but it's just not ready. There's a lot of description of clothing that's supposed to pass as interesting detail, so it's not like Kluver didn't try where she could, but this is a highly disappointing novel and I can't even hope that Kluver will get better, as attention like this to work at such a young age could only stunt her growth by suggesting she doesn't need to work harder at her craft. Readers, if all you're looking for is to be impressed by a 14-year-old's writing, then go ahead and check out Legacy (or get a job as a high school English teacher and hunt down the nerds who scribble in their notebooks all day), but if you're looking for good historical YA, treat Legacy like the scene of a terrible accident. Keep moving along, folks, there's nothing to see here.

Please note that I received an advanced egalley of this novel courtesy of NetGalley for the purpose of review.

Dead Reckoning

2011-06-12T21:38:00.003-04:00

If it weren't for the fact that "NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED" is written on the cover of the latest Sookie book... well, you kind of could have fooled me. Dead Reckoning felt like a dead ringer for the last installment, Dead in the Family, with some minor details changed. It's yet another book of prep work for future explosions and laying the foundation for bigger issues, with enough of a battle at the end to keep everything interesting and technically "advance" the plot. We're still mopping up a fairy mess, we're still dealing with Victor, and we're still wondering what the hell Sookie and Eric are doing with their relationship/vampire marriage. Thank goodness it's been a solid year since I've read the last one or I'd be more irritated at the fact that the main positive point of this book seems simply to be that it exists and affords the reader a few hundred more pages of life in Charlaine Harris's vampire-riddled world. As it stands, I'm somewhat resigned to the fact that this series may have run its course, unless Harris really is planning for big things (and there are hints this could be true or at least that she wants us to think it's true), but I'm also aware of something I've stated in previous Sookie books: I'm going to keep reading and I know it, so there's no sense in my denying it or threatening that I'll stop. It's not in my nature and every time I open up a new Sookie book, I still feel like I'm settling in to something comfortable and familiar and I realize that I had, indeed, missed it.

The book opens with a bang... well, to be specific, a fire via Molotov cocktail (it seems Sookie has exchanged her word-a-day calendar of old for crime novels). Tossed through the window of Sam's bar during working hours, the cocktail fire causes minimal destruction and no one is too severely injured (though Sam was burned a bit and of Sookie's hair was singed) and while the police and everyone else might think this is your usual hate crime against the two-natured, Sookie caught a fleeting glimpse of the culprit and thinks their attacker is a shifter, too. Eric quickly arrives on the scene and we're reminded that he and Sookie have that blood bond and that they're married, vampire-style. Sookie's finally going to do something about that in this book (though we continue to remain baffled why Sookie feels this deep need to *do* something about it). Meanwhile, Eric is being unusually cagey, even for Eric, and later on, we'll learn (via Pam) that beyond plots to kill Victor, things are Not Okay in Eric world. Speaking of Victor, he's still trying to kill basically everyone (topping the list are Eric, Pam, and Sookie) and Eric's had enough and is finally ready to take him out. Oh, and also among those trying to kill Sookie? Do you remember Debbie Pelt's even crazier sister? Yeah, her. And Sam's still dating that werewolf. And Bill's still in love with Sookie. And the fairies are still around, despite the fact that their world was almost entirely sealed off, but we'll learn a little more about Sookie's fairy side. All in all, one feels like a whole book is needed just to check in on all the characters in this world, let along advance their individual plotlines by much. Oddly, it makes things feel very realistic -- one has too many friends to keep track of and there's a lot of schedule juggling so one can put in the hours at work, see one's vampire boyfriend, and still throw a baby shower for a "we used to be much closer" friend.

So, fans should enjoy this book if only because it gives us more and that's pleasant enough, but I still feel like we're gearing up for bigger things. At least the end of this book makes me feel like the next will, indeed, deal with quite interesting issues... and, let's face it, at the top of that list for me is Eric, his politics and his twisted relationship with Sookie. It may not be a good idea for them to be together, but I guess one should enjoy him while he lasts. (Speaking of Eric, there's an impressive scene involving a porch swing, the realistic logistics of which it's better to just ignore.) Otherwise, let the countdown for book twelve begin.

Legend

2011-06-12T11:01:00.002-04:00

Told from the alternating perspectives of two narrators, Legend by Marie Lu is a dystopian YA novel set in Los Angeles that focuses on June and Day, two fifteen-year-olds from wildly different backgrounds whose lives are about to collide. June is the only prodigy to have earned a perfect score on her Trial exam (taken by all ten-year-olds in the Republic to help shape their futures). She comes from a wealthy district and family, though her life hasn't necessary been "easy" -- she's been raised by her wildly capable older brother, Metias, since their parents died while she was still very young. At fifteen, June might be a little bit of a trouble-maker at her top university (having skipped several grades), but only because she's challenging herself in her own ways (scaling buildings, etc.) and she can kind of get away with it (a perfect score will make you everyone's darling). She does, however, believe in the Republic and is eager to graduate to begin her military career. Meanwhile, Day is the most wanted criminal in the Republic -- not the most dangerous, mind, but the most wanted because he constantly eludes capture. From a poor family, Day failed his Trial exam and rather than be taken off to the work camps (or meet whatever fate the failures have), he now lives on the streets with only his friend, thirteen-year-old Tess, for company. The Patriots, the enemy in the Republic's never-ending battle outside its borders, have tried to bring Day to their cause, but he's never been interested. He pulls off his own acts of rebellion against a system that has never been on his side or the sides of his loved ones -- stealing plague meds, breaking in to a bank, destroying the engines of airships. Quite a rap sheet, indeed, particularly when no fatalities seem to be associated with any of these antics. More often than not, though, Day and Tess are simply scraping by, with at least a day a week spent watching over Day's family -- his mother and two brothers -- as the military does its weekly sweeps to test for plague that only seem to crop up in the poor areas.

When Day's little brother Eden seems to have developed a mutated strain of the plague, Day breaks in to a hospital to steal plague meds on a night when Metias is part of the military force present at the hospital. Unable to locate treatment meds, Day settles for suppressants and leaps two stories to escape, only to be cornered by Metias. Day wounds Metias in the shoulder and escapes -- but later that night, June is told that her brother was killed, stabbed in the heart by Day. June is offered a chance to become a full-fledged agent and avenge her brother by tracking down Day. First, she attempts to meet with Day by spreading word that a plague cure dealer is looking for him, and then June goes undercover in the slums, hoping to make contact with someone who can lead her to Day. After a few days of nothing, June jumps in to a skiz fight to rescue a young girl (Tess) and receives a minor wound, but is whisked to safety and taken care of by Tess and Day (though she doesn't know it's Day until she's spent some time with them). Inevitably, the truth comes out, decisions are made, and what was once certainty in June's mind becomes muddled as she finds herself questioning whether Day is really her brother's killer and if the system she's believed in for her whole life is not what it appears to be. Before she can figure anything out, though, there will be tragic casualties and massive repercussions to her actions.

My reasons for disliking this book are three-fold.

1. The font style and color changes. I know I'm reading an ARC, but I'm betting this will carry to the hardcover (and someone please let me know if that's not the case). For June, the more educated of the narrators, we have a serif font and black type. For Day, the wanted criminal and kid living on the streets, we have a sans-serif font in a weird goldenrod color. That's right, color ink. Extra money was spent to make the reader wince. It's so very unnecessary. A good novel doesn't need to switch fonts or colors to indicate we have a new narrator. Distracting design doesn't help the text and, honestly, it's just not aesthetically appealing. At most, I could've tolerated the font (style, not color) switching or the annoying "DAY" or "JUNE" logos at the top of each chapter to designate the narrator, but otherwise we're left to assume one of three things for why this weird font decision was made: (A) Some high-up executive thought this would be an interesting hook for the book ("everyone loves goldenrod!") and no one else wanted to be the person to step up and explain it was a terrible idea. (B) The author/publisher does not think highly of the reader's intelligence (or visual comprehension skills, as that logo on each chapter features letters a good inch tall), and so the reader is beaten over the head with these indicators that a different person is talking now. (C) The publisher doesn't think the book can handle things on its own/doesn't think much of the author's ability to properly differentiate tones of voice and so the extra differences were heaped in as a necessary means of tricking the reader in to thinking the voices were really quite distinctive. In reality, the voices are not as different as one might wish, and both can be slightly inconsistent. I got the feeling that a little too much thought had gone in to things like "this is what a teenage boy would sound like" and the defining variation for June was a flimsy air of prejudice towards the poor that quite easily gets set aside as the book goes on.

2. I'll be honest, this isn't necessarily a criticism of the novel, but rather, it's a personal preference discovered with this novel. I just don't enjoy stories that have to do with the military. It automatically turns me off. I don't think I had totally realized this until reading Legend, so that means I felt it hard-core here. Of course, this was only magnified by the fact that the military here is so obviously evil that it's absurd. Revolutionaries and rebels, bring 'em on, but the organized body requiring utter allegiance and devotions, no questions asked when shooting ten year olds? No thanks, I'll take my chaos rather than hand over guns to folks who never question an order from obviously twisted leaders. Naturally, the evil military trope is a standard feature of many dystopian or post-apocalyptic novels, but usually we see it from the outside, so we're not privy to the intricate machinations from within. Legend does at least have this different angle to its credit, but unfortunately it didn't do it all that well -- it made things seem way over simplified and ridiculous. I appreciate the message that this book seems to send about soldiers who are much too young for these responsibilities and blindly follow orders, but I don't think there was enough follow-through if the author really wanted to make a point. (PS. Only slightly related, but I'll stick this complaint here. If your book discusses the military and you insist on labeling things with a time, location, and temperature like it's an official report, then you should be using military time. This seems beyond obvious.)

3. Inconsistencies abound, leading me to surmise that even though the military set-up and dystopian world are the best things Lu has going for her, she constantly undermines her own creation by failing to keep things believable even within the framework of the world.

To me, this final point comes through loud and clear in the romantic plotline. (And from this point on, folks, I'll be revealing information that happens deeper in the novel than the general summary has indicated, so even though I won't spoil the ending, if you really want to avoid hearing more details about Legend, then stop now.) I can accept the general idea that June might fall for Day -- she hunts him down, believing he's her brother's killer, but ultimately realizes that Day didn't kill Metias and Day can provide the answers about how the Republic is really being run that have been kept from her for her whole life. There are several other books that utilize this plot where the family member can ultimately fall for the absolved suspect. What doesn't jive is Day falling for June after June is responsible for his mother being shot point-blank in front of his house to draw Day out of hiding before Day even has a chance to give himself up when his mother's life is threatened. June didn't hold the gun or issue the order, but she is totally and utterly responsible for her death. The characters dance around this, suggesting that June isn't responsible because she didn't know they'd kill his mother -- but I'm sorry, that doesn't fly. Day had been a somewhat credible character (despite his borderline super-human abilities and handsome features that always shine through his streetlife grime) up to this point, but there's no way he'd continue to think well of June after this. It doesn't matter if she's just a girl that's been lied to by the system... she's the girl who was responsible for his mother's death. If there was ever the slim hope that Day might one day forgive her for this, it isn't going to happen in less than a week and it's almost insulting to his character to suggest he could get over it so easily.

Beyond that massive issue, there are all kinds of questionable things in this novel that cause the reader to pause and pull out of the novel in confusion. The Trial exam that every ten year old takes has those who pass and those who fail -- and the failures are theoretically shipped off to work camps, but in actuality are killed or used for medical testing. (That's right, kids, we took Fido to a farm where he can play in the sunshine!) Evidently the kids, post-Trial, sit around wondering which group they're in, but really, if that many kids are being taken off for labor camps/to be killed, there would be WAY more problems, like general populace uprising (and the people can't be *that* beaten down if they're uprising when Day is captured, so you can't fall back on that one). There's also the surprisingly lax treatment of June in school, the perfect prodigy who gets away with all kinds of unacceptable behavior. In military schools, this would be completely unacceptable. While it's supposed to suggest she thinks outside the box, it doesn't explain why she's never questioned anything the military has told her up until now. And don't get me started on the evil military where the hours are surprisingly good (June always seems to be in her apartment, zoning out and petting her dog) and yet demands that its soldiers kill civilians without a second thought. Thomas (who was mentored by Metias and has the hots for fifteen-year-old June) is a poor bad guy and if he had a scrap of decency or wasn't a robot/psychopath, would have been torn up by the role he'd played in everything. The military, meanwhile, maintains a drastic class system that keeps the poor in utter squalor, but allows for its own impressive technology. Speaking of technology -- Metias keeps paper journals to document things... and then a website to alert his sister to his discoveries? If technology is advanced enough that a hand-scan would be required for her to view the site, you can bet the military would already have figured out a way around it -- it seems the military is the only field that gets any massive technological advances, so they'd be watching their people (and totally would have searched the house and figured out his code long before June). Oh, and the whole former United States of America? Yeah, the hints suggest we'll learn more about this in future books, but obviously things have gone down and the Republic controls at least California -- but we needed a little more to go on here, otherwise we're in limbo as far as our awareness of the world. What area of the US are we talking about when we refer to the Patriots or the Republic? How many years in the future are we that technology has been at a veritable stand-still? (Oh, and unless the rest of the world has been destroyed, it's rather egocentric to think America/Republic vs Patriots conflict is the only thing that's relevant. To be honest, though, if this was supposed to be some kind of compelling history, then we really should have been given a reason to care -- as of now, it just seems like Day and June are rebelling against a government that lies to them, but there's no indication that knowledge would lead to better lives for the Republic's citizens in any tangible way.

I wanted to abandon this novel halfway through, but trudged on so I could feel like I was giving a complete and thorough opinion of the work... and so I could feel justified in telling anyone who reads this review that you should skip this one and read something like Divergent, assuming you've already read Hunger Games. I may have tried to make more of an effort if I cared about June, but she lacks any sparkle that might make her a compelling lead. The next installment will likely focus on the Patriots and uncovering more information about the former US, with a contrived plot that will temporarily drive June and Day apart before their eventual reunion and triumph in the third in this series, though "triumph" might not be Hunger Games level and might just be their continued commitment to "fighting the good fight" to provide all people with the truth. (Note: I assume this will be a trilogy, as everything seems to be part of a trilogy these days.) The most I'll do for those future books is read Goodreads reviews with spoilers to confirm my suspicions, but I definitely won't be taking the time to read them myself. I had such hopes for an interesting new perspective in the large field of dystopian novels out there, but even if the setting is slightly new, there's not enough of an appealing and intriguing story to back it up -- and without that, any book would be doomed.

PS? You never win points with the reader by abandoning your dog and shrugging it off.

Bloodlines

2011-06-11T10:35:00.000-04:00

Fans of Richelle Mead's Vampire Academy series will be quite pleased with the first installment of her new series that takes place in the same world of Moroi, dhampirs, and alchemists: Bloodlines. While the basic story points are a bit simple and predictable as we set up for a new run, Mead's consistently fun characters make for an entertaining read and a promising start to a series that will undoubtedly allow us to enjoy our favorite characters from the past and, in general, delight in the guilty pleasure of reading about teen vampires/those in their strange world.

Our heroine here has a familiar face (as do most of the faces we'll find in the book) -- it's none other than Sydney, the alchemist who played a major role in helping Rose Hathaway in her quests from the last series, albeit against her will as she made good on owed favors to Abe Mazur, the mob-boss-like figure known as zmey, or "the snake" and, incidentally, Rose's father. Alchemists are humans who are devoted to keeping other humans in the dark about the existence of vampires -- and this often means cleaning up after vampires and enforcing a lot of rules (which comes with a great deal of paperwork). Observant folk will notice that alchemists all have a golden tattoo of a lilly on their cheeks -- which gives them a certain amount of power and protection, but also keeps them from revealing too much about their world and activities to those not already in the know. Sydney was in hot water with the alchemists for her part in assisting Rose in Last Sacrifice -- not entirely because Rose was presumed guilty of murder but more because alchemists are not supposed to *like* vampires and Sydney seemed to have become entirely too close to the loathed creatures. So when a young female alchemist is needed for a mission, Syndey is passed over for her inexperienced little sister, Zoe. In her attempt to keep young Zoe out of the world of the alchemists, Sydney offends her by insisting Zoe's much too young and incapable, but it works and she gets the job.

Sydney is sent to Palm Springs help guard Jill, Queen Vasilia's recently-discovered half-sister who was attacked... and not by Strigoi (the evil brand of vamp), but by those who oppose her sister's politics. In order to maintain the throne, Lissa needs at least one living family member, which means Jill's safety is very important. Palm Springs, with the heat and sun, is one of the last places one would expect vampires and so a suitable boarding school has been located to serve as a relatively clear area to stash the young royal. Sydney is to pose as Jill's sister and Jill's dhampir bodyguard, Eddie, is to be their brother, but the family doesn't end there. Adrian, recently broken-hearted by Rose, is also around to post as another brother and, worst of all for Sydney, there's Keith, the alchemist in charge of the Palm Springs. Keith and Sydney despise each other as a result of an incident in their pasts (and not in the sexy "they hate each other now, but when passions rise" kind of way) and the most we can glean is that Keith did something terrible (though not necessarily to Sydney) and now he remains a slimy jerk, but a jerk in charge of her progress reports to their employers and who's playing the role of brother/legal guardian. Brilliant. Rounding out the cast are Clarence, an older vamp in the area that's willing to share his feeder/housekeeper with Jill, and Clarence's son, Lee, who is a shady fellow off the bat and yet Jill seems to have a small crush on him. Clarence's niece was killed a few years prior, presumably by Strigoi, though the circumstances are shady and Clarence blames vampire hunters. Intriguing. I wonder if that information will play in to our tale? (Hint: yes.)

Sydney must keep her eye on Jill while they navigate school, though to be honest, the latter isn't all that bad for Sydney, as she enjoys classes and is wildly intelligent. She even gets the opportunity to serve as a research assistant to a history professor, though that seems to be equal parts note-taking and coffee-fetching. Sydney, who was home-schooled and who loves architecture (even though her strict father thought it a useless subject), manages quite well... but Jill? Not so much. The sun and heat take a real toll on the young vamp and her shyness keeps her from making many friends. It also doesn't help that she attracts the eye of a human fellow that a particularly nasty girl in school wishes were *her* boyfriend and so the mean girl faults Jill and makes her life a living hell. There's also the fact that Jill and Adrian seem weirdly close these days, but not romantically, and Syndey is not pleased when she uncovers what has gone down. Meanwhile, the school seems to have some odd goings-on (beyond the whole vampires secretly attending thing) that has to do with some metallic tattoos that give the wearer strange powers (or at least an awesome high). Sydney's inquisitive nature will not let this lie and, unsurprisingly, things seem to be all wrapped up together.

The big mysteries are fairly easy to suss out early on, but if you're anything like me, you enjoy Richelle Mead for the clear, easy reading and the enjoyable characters. Sydney is an excellent heroine in many ways and she provides an interesting perspective (particularly as a shift away from Rose and the very intense Moroi/dhampir politics). Her dislike of magic will make for interesting future issues as she interacts with the vamps (and others). There's an interesting bit where Sydney is appalled that she receives a size two uniform instead of a zero -- the weight-control issues obviously going back to her disapproving father and the body image drama that must develop from working with model-thin vampires. Thankfully, Adrian is on hand to tell Sydney that she's too skinny as it is, so perhaps we'll move away from those ludicrous size discussions. (It's rather hard to feel too sorry for Sydney when the difference is between size zero and size two.) Even though the story doesn't feature much romance yet, it's obvious that Mead has plans for Sydney to help Adrian get over his broken heart and figure out his own life. Adrian, meanwhile, is still a bit wicked, but is much tamer (for several reasons) than readers might wish, but I suppose concessions must be made if we want to make him a viable romantic lead who's trying to get his life in order. Eddie remains strong and sweet while Jill is a bit petulant, but she's been through a lot, so I'm sure she'll mature quickly. Rose makes a cameo at the beginning of the story and she'll probably continue to pop in and out, but it looks like we might get a good deal more Dimitri in the next book. I'm not particularly enthralled with the Palm Springs setting, but that can obviously change up as things move around -- the real focus will be on Syndey and her relationship with the vampire community, primarily through Adrian and Jill.

Without Rose's mental line to Lissa that kept previous books jumping between the two perspectives, Bloodlines felt like a very focused story -- in a good way. Things were simple here (protecting Jill, placing Adrian in a new setting, a solveable issue at the school), but the scope will undoubtedly widen as we go on and Jill plays a bigger role at Court. I'm betting we can count on the Moroi/dhampir issues to continue and since Sydney is our focus, the alchemist system to come in to question. I'm curious to see where Mead will take us, as it's just not possible that she'll allow things to stay simple forever, and I'm more than content to let her go wherever she likes with this world, as long as she continues to entertain... and not veer Adrian too far away from his devilish nature towards the responsible-and-boring side of things.

Two Moon Princess

2011-06-05T19:22:00.001-04:00

Two Moon Princess by Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban is a time/space traveling YA fantasy novel, colored with the influence of Spanish culture and Californian history. Princess Andrea, the fourth and youngest daughter of the King and Queen, dreams of being a knight but fears her father will not allow her to continue her training now that she's getting older. As suspected, even after she wins an archery contest, Andrea is told that it is now time for her to set such masculine things aside and study to be a lady with her mother's guidance. What the king says is law, so really the only thing that will get her out of this is a magic portal to another universe.
Funny how that can happen in fantasy novels, right?
After struggling to be what she is not, Andrea discovers her kingdom's long-hidden secret, a portal that opens once a month and allows travelers to pass between worlds. Of course, she doesn't totally know what it is until she stumbles through to present day California, where the slightly strange uncle (who would occasionally visit court for short sojourns) turns out to be from this (the real/reader's) world and he's not terribly pleased to have his otherworld niece suddenly appear. In addition, Andrea's mom is actually from California and chose to stay in the other universe for love of Andrea's father, but her uncle bops back and forth between the two worlds, writing off his long absences from his University of California archaeology professorship as "time in the field." Her uncle insists that Andrea must go back to her country/universe when the portal opens again, but that means she's got a month to explore life in our world. As Andrea acclimatizes to California (it helps that her people have ridiculously awesome memories that allow her to learn English practically overnight) and its ways, she begins to appreciate the freedom this world can offer that would be denied to her back home, no matter her station. Unfortunately, though, even when she's given permission by her parents to stay in California for a while, a mistake lands Andrea and her California crush, John, back in her former home and the ultimate consequences of this action lead to war within her world. Now it's up to Andrea to find a way to stop the war and along the way, she discovers that not everything in her world is worth leaving behind, but she ultimately will have to choose between the two.

First off, I really wanted to like this book. I was looking forward to the incorporation of old Spanish culture and California history. As a former California Catholic school student, the missions were a big part of grade school curriculum (my small-scale foam-board mission, btw, rocked the socks off everyone else's in the school) and I still have a soft spot for this morally questionable part of my culture. At least with the mission component in this book, I wasn't too disappointed -- these bits and the flavor they provided were interesting and I wanted more. Unfortunately, it was everything else that got annoying. Time was all wonky -- in Andrea's world (which has two moons, btw, hence the title) the calendar is longer and so she starts the book as "nearly fourteen," but in our world, this mean she's seventeen. (Let me tell you that it's a BIG difference for a reader when she blithely reads along, picturing a fourteen-year-old and then suddenly she's enrolled in college classes and thinking about kissing boys in a this-isn't-too-soon-at-all kind of way.) It was also frustrating to know the whole "the portal only opens every month" bit meant that lots of time gets skimmed over in the course of the story and it seems just a little too convenient that no one (like her uncle's real-world daughter, perhaps?) gets all that concerned when someone is unreachable for a whole frickin' month. In general, I found that this story tended to drag on in places (for the first half, I came amazingly close to setting the book aside because things were going so slowly and I pretty much never give up on a book). Eventually, it picked up when the direction that we were headed in became a bit clearer, but that took quite a long while. I will give the novel credit for not giving away the details about who will be playing what part (aka the "villians," the love interest, etc.) but sometimes that came at the cost of twisting people from their original presentations to ascribe actions to them that don't seem all that believable or sympathetic.

On the whole, I didn't really like any of the characters. All the men (save one, later on) seem to be real jerks -- especially Andrea's uncle who, given that he's a professor from modern-day California, you might expect to be less of a dick towards women -- and the women are easily dismissed as being one-note or lacking in definition. Ultimately, though, the real fault I had with this novel was Andrea -- it's entirely possible to still enjoy a novel where you dislike the main character (it can even be an interesting experience, really), but it's much harder when you find them annoying and, quite frankly, a bit slow on the uptake. When I thought she was fourteen, her intelligence level might have been forgiven, but at seventeen, she came across as rather dim indeed. It wasn't that she was klutzy or forgetful or endearingly clueless... she was actually a little dumb. She never thought things through and never seemed to understand that actions have repercussions and, as a princess, you'd think she'd be a bit more aware here. She grows a pair towards the end of the novel, but it happens a bit too quickly for any brave actions to be really believable as character development and, instead, it's like a new Andrea is suddenly on the scene. The thing that kept me reading was the plot -- I honestly wasn't sure where things were going for a while and I dislike giving up on things, so I stuck it out. The romance angle (once you it came to fruition) was interesting, even though I liked the hero far more than Andrea, but once it became a possibility, the ultimate end result was clear and there were no further twists.

Alas, while I honestly appreciate the introduction on diversity and different cultures into literature (particularly YA), I just wasn't won over by Two Moon Princess. Given a different heroine, perhaps I could have warmed to it, but Andrea just wasn't up to the task of shouldering this novel. It's quite a shame, really, as this novel had potential and some very interesting details to its credit, but it just wasn't my cup of tea in the end.

Spellbound

2011-05-17T20:11:00.002-04:00

When a book has a title like Spellbound, there's a deep temptation for reviewers to pretend they're being clever by putting some kind of spin on it. Positive reviews might say something like "The title delivers -- this certainly kept me Spellbound!" and less-than-positive reviews might try a little harder for the negative equivalent. If I cared enough, I'd fall in to the less-than-positive camp because even though this is an incredibly quick read, only the most desperate-to-relive-Twilight readers will be particularly entranced by Cara Lynn Shultz's debut novel. FYI, I won't give away the ending with this review, but this is one of those books that draws out the obvious for a long time, and I won't tip-toe around that one.

Emma is a seventeen-year-old whose life has been plagued by tragedies, roughly in this order: her father left, her twin brother died, her mother died, and then her drunken step-father nearly killed them both in a car accident. Following this final brush with death, Emma has finally decided to take up her mom's sister, Aunt Christine, on her offer for Emma to come live with her in New York City. Aunt Christine is well-off (evidenced by the fact that she has a spare bedroom in her apartment ready for Emma to move in to and the fact that paying tuition at a posh private school doesn't appear to be a big deal) but doesn't have much idea about what it takes to raise a teenager, so she trusts Emma to make good decisions and set herself a curfew in line with everyone else's. There's another aunt in the background, whose daughter Ashley is eager to show Emma the ropes -- even though she's only a freshman at Vincent Academy herself. Ashley is sweet and bouncy and obviously destined for a bad turn from the get-go. Despite her desire to lay low, Emma sticks out like a sore thumb. She immediately winds up on the bad side of the catty queen bee and the most popular self-obsessed jock in school. She makes one friend, a gothy witch named Angelique, sort of befriends another girl who has a drinking problem, and manages to hit it off with the semi-closeted gay guy (seriously, can we get any more stereotypical in our cast of high school characters?)... but unsurprisingly, everyone pales in comparison to the extremely handsome, smart, and wealthy Brendan Salinger... who alternately acts nicely to Emma and then blows her off entirely. This might be your average high school scenario, but as per current trends, we need to toss in something paranormal about everything, and for Spellbound, this involves a curse, a doomed love, and a necklace pendant. Emma wears a particular necklace, a gift from her brother, and it catches the eye of both Edward--I mean, Brendan--and Angelique, though for different reasons. Angelique is fairly sure that it has some kind of magic connotation and Brendan just seemed fixated. And then Emma starts having dreams where her dead twin brother is warning her away from Brendan. Will it spoil anything if I indicate that somehow, the necklace pendant is at the heart of everything? And it means something to Brendan that he's not too eager to share with Emma lest she get freaked out? Or that they're reincarnated doomed lovers and they need to break a curse if they're ever supposed to be together? If so, oops, but you really should have seen that coming.

It’s no new thing for a story to feature a strong male hero that needs to “save” the heroine from some threat. Heck, this is one of the oldest stories out there. It's not even new for said hero to be billed as dangerous and for this to be part of his appeal. Twilight only tapped in to a much older story and reinvigorated our own abhorrence for the fact that, despite our knowing that this isn't feminist, there is still a twisted appeal and we have no idea how to both empower young women to make their preferences heard and yet tell them that this particular preference really isn't a good idea. Still, when one normally encounters this particular bad boy device (and, let's face it, there's a lot of them out there in the wake of Stephenie's success), I generally find that there's still something compelling and I just wasn't getting that here. It really did feel that someone just wanted to re-create Twilight with a twist and I found Emma and Brendan almost unrecognizable from Bella and Edward (minus the fangs). (Though at least Brendan doesn't put the kibosh on making out the way that Edward did, which yielded a steamy scene that should satisfy those who read YA for the romance.) Maybe it was because I didn't particularly feel that anyone had any personality or that I found the atmosphere of the NYC private school to be completely unrealistic. It's one thing when you write a novel about teenagers and manage to skip around scenes that obviously would feature profanity... it's another when you barrel head-first into fight scenes between teenage guys and expect the reader not to laugh when the harshest thing that's said is akin to "you're acting like a baby." It was an interesting contrast with the scenes of New York teenagers out drinking or doing drugs and yet the words they spoke just didn't fit. That said, Shultz might shy away from naughty language, but the violence (even violence against women) was intense for a YA that isn't Hunger Games or specifically dealing with violent paranormal animals or something. I did appreciate Emma sticking up for her cousin when hurtful rumors swirl around the school, but a death wish isn't the same as backbone and I wanted Emma to be much smarter in how she dealt with the pure evil bully. I suppose, though, that I was thankful that she didn't simply simper on the sidelines.

Ultimately, I don't really mind the general idea of a doomed love, fated to play itself out again and again throughout time, but I wish the author had moved away from other inspirational material and made the characters her own just a bit more. I didn't particularly like the flashbacks to the original doomed lovers and the reincarnations that followed, but at least those were elements that were more original and different. There's some intriguing bonus material in the ebook -- a selection from Angelique's thoughts and a twisted little story of magic gone wrong as well as a playlist highlighting some of the music that Emma and Brendan listen to during the book. Unless Shultz brings more to the table in her next book, though, I think I'll pass on any future attempts at spellbinding stories.

Please note that I received an advanced egalley of this novel courtesy of NetGalley for the purpose of review.

Let the Great World Spin

2011-05-03T23:06:00.002-04:00

On an August morning in 1974, if the New Yorkers rushing past the Twin Towers on their usual morning commute paused to look up, they would have seen a tightrope walker on a line suspended between the towers. This moment of guerrilla performance art is what ties together Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann, which otherwise explores four separate stories, all of which eventually touch upon each other in strange ways. A group of mothers who lost sons in Vietnam. An Irish brother (and his own actual brother) who is kind to a group of prostitutes in the Bronx. One of those prostitutes, a grandmother and not yet forty, tries to make her life and the lives of her family better. Young artists find themselves fleeing the scene of a car accident and yet they cannot shake the horror of what they have done. This moment in time, suspended, becomes the focus of a novel that offers a fascinating view of a New York that existed not all that long ago, but has been irrevocably lost to us.

It's not that it took me a very long time to get through this novel, it's just that when I set a book aside for a time (for any number of reasons), it's very hard for me to return to it. And it might not have any bearing on the novel itself. For Let the Great World Spin, I just couldn't handle how terribly sad and depressed I felt about halfway through and I needed a bit of distance, but I picked it up again several months later when my book club selected it and I am very pleased that they did. Even in 1974, the Twin Towers were emblems of New York, symbolizing its progress and promise; to view them within the novel is to experience the heavy heart of hindsight.

This is not an easy read, nor should it be. Even if you simply focus on the characters themselves, their lives are full of the heartbreak that is inevitably a part of living. Once setting down the book, however, it is impossible to keep your thoughts from drifting to Ground Zero (particularly if you live in New York, as I do). McCann's characters are vividly real. Even though the actual tight-rope walker plays a small role in the novel, his artistic expression illuminates the tight-rope acts that everyone in this novel is doing -- balancing themselves between conflicting ideas, emotions, or actions. It's a testament to 9/11 that it is so deeply rooted in our national consciousness that McCann evoked every tragic image and moment without any specific allusion to them, until the end when he spoke of his father-in-law's dust-covered shoes. The entire book is haunted by future events, which only makes each new, unrelated pain all the sharper.

My NYC-based book club read this and we had similar reactions, with the general opinion being quite positive of McCann's writing and the book as a whole. Obviously, we shared our "where I was when I heard about the planes" stories. There was the unanimous stereotypical observation that an Irish author can write despair, tragedy, and hardship like no other kind of author in the world. In addition, we collectively appreciated that, despite all the quiet suffering, there was also the undercurrent of resilience, which seems odd for a book not specifically dealing with a tragic event, and yet by reaching in to the past, there was some element that shone through. It's not a British "keep calm and carry on" kind of attitude, but there is the knowledge that whether the tragedy be small and personal or unimaginably large as 9/11, there is the innate human need to continue on and reclaim one's life from the constant thrall of a specific and devastating catastrophe. The motivations for this might vary, but there it is, just the same.

While I wouldn't necessarily recommend that you pick up this title when you're feeling blue, save it until a sunnier day. And any New Yorker should definitely read this for a different perspective on the World Trade Center and its place in our city's history and consciousness.

Light Boxes

2011-04-28T22:59:00.003-04:00

The inhabitants of a town wage war against February itself in an attempt to regain lost seasons, children, and dreams. This was all I knew about Light Boxes when I purchased it. I believe I'd seen it listed in some trusted source somewhere, perhaps noting Shane Jones as an interesting new voice in fiction. That, combined with the lovely cover, was enough to intrigue me so that it made its way in to my shopping cart if not in to my purse for an immediate perusal. I bought it and it sat in a stack of other books, so placed to remind me that I wanted to read each and every one of them "next" but I didn't pick it up until April -- perhaps I should have read it during February itself for a better sense of scene, but Jones conjures up the grueling month quite clearly (even for those of us who enjoy winter, it becomes bleak in its unending state). Do I call it poetry? Free verse? Surreal fairy tale that bleeds in to a horror story? A melding of fiction and poetic conjuration of imagery? An attempt to explain via metafiction the experience of Seasonal Affective Disorder? Well whatever it is, and it may be all those things combined, it's not your usual narrative, even when the story concerns a month made both flesh and eternal. Light Boxes is sad and thoughtful and, despite the ongoing nature of February, surprisingly brief in its tale.

Those who have grown up in oppressive winters will indubitably find a kindred spirit in Shane Jones, who envisions the horror of all horrors to be an endless February of ice, snow, and bitter wind. In this town, flight has been outlawed and so, earth-bound, the inhabitants cannot do anything but kindle within their breasts a revolution against February and hope that the sparks are not blown out before something takes hold. Layered worlds provide a scene that feels like an MC Escher drawing, opening holes in the floor that turn out to be gaping wounds in the sky, and children stolen from their beds tunnel underground to provide scraps of messages that convey hopes and war plans. I know of no clear way to describe this novel beyond these swirling images that dance like snowflakes. Yes, there is a story involving a father who must soldier to lead the war against February on after his daughter disappears and his wife dies in her grief. Perhaps it's best to approach this novel as a long free-verse poem, or, like Alan Lightman's Einstein's Dreams, short observations that are tied together by theme and a strange, twisting narrative. In the end, it's not really that "main" narrative that stuck with me so much as the amazing details or vivid descriptions. Did I mention flight was banned? Think on this one idea for a moment... the concept of individuals burning and destroying anything that might rise above, like balloons or even birds... the concealment of treasured items... the painting of kites on a child's arms with the knowledge she will always have to wear sleeves to be safe, but at least she will never forget. The imagery is haunting and while the "story" might not be something that provides a sense of satisfaction, it does not fail in provoking wonder.

The narrative hinges on the experience of February as lingering and oppressively endless. Perhaps it's because I do not experience Seasonal Affective Disorder and actually take great delight in winter but the brevity of the book that I mentioned earlier extends beyond page count. Despite the knowledge that it must be so, the eternal February never sunk in for me, like ice melting through one's clothes. Though I also mean that it took me a little more than an hour to read this in its entirety. When I finished, I wasn't quite sure what to think. I still don't quite know what to think, but I am most definitely thinking of it and on it. So much was unexpected and left open. I had not expected the emphasis on layout and design to convey the poetic message. It could arguably be too kitschy to have such reliance but I never even considered that until after the fact. The design helps the scenes in many ways, though at times it was distracting. I also hadn't quite realized there would be such emphasis on vignettes stitched together to provide structure. The through narrative is exceedingly loose in retrospect, even if the reader does feel compelled on while reading, like a traveler lost in a blizzard who spies a light ahead. Perhaps that's the thing, though, I hadn't realized much of anything before I wandered in to Shane Jones's strange world and that might be just the way to go.

I will, however, likely have to sit on this book some time before I can start suggesting it to people in earnest. New York has just come in to bloom after a winter that had many begging for relief (not unlike the town inhabitants of this novel, though New Yorkers failed to come up with active plans to combat the lingering weather) and so to suggest that they read a novel about eternal winter amidst blossoming daffodils and tulips... well, perhaps not. It is most definitely a novel that benefits from a "right place, right time" attitude and to impose it upon a reader in any other situation would not be to anyone's benefit. Still, should you feel yourself in need of surreal experimentational literature at any point (particularly during a snow storm or chilly night), then I would recommend this slim volume. And I would ask that you report back to tell me if you can look at owls in the same way as you did before reading this book.

PS Goodreads fans should get a kick out of the fact that February himself ( http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/2224484-february ) thinks this is "a terrible book of lies."

St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised By Wolves

2011-04-13T22:55:00.001-04:00

Karen Russell's debut collection of short stories, St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised By Wolves, is a fascinating trip into tales where, believe it or not, the twisted realities seem to surpass even the creations of wild, young imaginations.

There is something captivating (slash haunting?) about childhood -- a belief, real or imagined, that things were simpler... or at least that we were all less aware of the complications lurking around us. This is, of course, a construct of adulthood as we give our younger selves less credit, because children are startlingly observant. The children in Russell's stories are very clearly not unaware -- they see everything and know things are wrong even if they cannot put names or motives to the adult betrayals and issues. Their stories may all possess elements of magical realism, but it's the very true, wounded emotions that infuse the page which make them live and breathe.

The stories themselves are not connected to each other, but they share a general sense of magical realism that imbues the Floridian swamplands. The title story, "St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves," is perhaps the most unforgettable of the group -- children raised by their werewolf parents are willingly handed off to the nuns so they might have a chance at shaking off their lupine upbringing, as they themselves will never experience the magical change. In "Ava Wrestles the Alligator," a girl watches her potentially possessed sister experience a sexual awakening, fending for herself and a little too unaware of the danger that comes from outside a person, rather than within, even when it's not in alligator skin. Other stories feature theme parks made up of giant conch shells, an assisted living center where the elderly inhabitants occupy boats instead of apartments, and a disillusioned young star-gazer struggles to hold on to a sense of wonder in the world while slipping in to the grasp of peer pressure. While the settings and actual events may be strange and incredible, it's really the description of emotional states and changes that indelibly remain in the reader's mind. (Well, okay, the odd details stick around, too.)

Fans of Kelly Link will find a kindred spirit here, though Karen Russell narrows her focus on the Everglades and its environs. Her tone is quite perfect for the short story format, as she offers a concise and single glimpse at each settling that feels whole in its existence, even if one itches to know more. This is a collection that should not be missed if you enjoy short stories, twisted backwoodsy settings, or alligators in most any format.

Wicked Lovely

2011-04-12T20:38:00.003-04:00

Among the darker paranormal YA books out there, Melissa Marr's Wicked Lovely is the first in her series that deals with fairies... but most definitely not of the Tinkerbell variety. Twisted and somewhat lurid, these are fairies who do nothing in halves -- whether that's stormy anguish, vicious carnage, or orgiastic celebration.

Aislinn (called "Ash" by her friends) and her grandmother have always been able to see fairies -- and unlike everyone else who does not have the Sight, they've lived their lives in fear of what they can see the fairies do to each other and the mortals who cannot see them. This danger, however, is nothing in comparison to the danger Ash knows she'd be in if the fairies KNEW she could see them... and so she guards her secret and mentally chants the rules her grandmother has established: "Don't stare at invisible faeries. Don't speak to invisible faeries. Don't ever attract their attention." Ash keeps her head down and tries to spend as much time in her best friend Seth's "house" -- a steel train car, where the metal keeps the fey out.

The rules, however, change forever when Donia and Keenan appear. The Winter Girl and the Summer King start to follow Ash and she scrambles to figure out what they want from her... but simply by singling her out, they've taken away any chance for Ash to have a normal life. Now, as Keenan's newest choice to attempt the test to discover if she is the long-lost Summer Queen, Ash must come to terms with the fact that she is now fey, like it or not... but will being fey define the rest of her, too?

The set-up for this series is fantastic for fans of the paranormal genre -- a girl falling in love with her best friend is altered forever when she is forced to play a role in the fairy world. The pull of her personal desires pitted against her new fairy impulses is a tug-of-war within her own heart and only her strength can see her through. Very few characters are straight-forward and simple in terms of their own allegiances and wants, and the complications make for a storyline that is filled with twists and turns, even in this first book and most certainly in the ones that follow.

I'm probably not going to review each one of the subsequent installments, but I did manage to read all of them. (SPOILERS ahead for Wicked Lovely, but not really much else.) Ink Exchange isn't really a sequel to WL so much as it was a companion novel -- like a JR Ward kind of spin-off where the actions taking place dealt with other characters that didn't play a strong role before, but it all helps set up events for future books. Fragile Eternity can claim "sequel" status to WL, I suppose, as it returns to the complications surrounding the tangled lives of Ash, Keenan, Donia, and Seth. More and more, Ash is realizing what it means to be the Summer Queen -- and that her responsibilities to her court are undermining everything she once held dear. In Radiant Shadows, I started to loose interest, as it broadens the character scope to examine more people in the world in addition to the main ones, obviously pushing the storyline in to an even more epic scale. I forged ahead with Darkest Mercy, knowing it was the last, and I am glad that I made it through to see everything wrap up. Lots of bloodshed and sacrifice, as befitting the scale of actions, and somehow I felt like not quite enough sacrifice had been made. Still, a very interesting series and Wicked Lovely is the best of them all.

Even though Wicked Lovely was only published in 2007, it certainly feels like Melissa Marr beat the other dark paranormal YA writers to the scene -- perhaps because even with so many others flooding the market, Marr's series holds its own as creating one of the more twisted and intriguing worlds out there. If you enjoy paranormal YA and have made it this far without yet experiencing Melissa Marr, you should most definitely give at least Wicked Lovely a whirl to see what you think, as she's become something of a standard. It may not be my favorite series out there, but it is quite memorable.

The Girl in the Steel Corset

2011-04-12T19:57:00.001-04:00

Within the acknowledgments at the end of her book, Kady Cross describes her original desire was to write The Girl in the Steel Corset as "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen meets teen X-Men." There's really no better way to describe this novel than that -- for Kady Cross did obviously want to write that novel. Her talent seems to rest in creating an interesting world and atmosphere where those kinds of elements can come together. The problem, though, is that a great number of other things seemed to fall by the wayside in order to craft such a world, including a clear narrative, character investment, and a large amount of tension within the story arc.

Steampunk and packed with adventure, The Girl in the Steel Corset opens upon a young serving maid named Finley Jayne who believes she's struggling with a darker side within, a side that unleashes when she's frightened or angry. Incidentally, we're treated to a display of this when the master's son decides he'd like to take advantage of the new serving girl, and he winds up beaten unconscious. As Finley is aware that she'll be lucky if she only winds up dismissed from her position and not arrested, the voice in her head offers some solid advice -- flee before either can happen. Dashing into the street as she escapes, Finley is nearly run down -- conveniently, by the only young man in all of London who can truly help her. Within his circle of friends, she finds even more frightening prospects than dealing with her own internal struggles -- the possibility of understanding, a useful place, and true friends.

The Girl in the Steel Corset gets major points based on cover and book design alone -- I loved the dips and curls of the script combined with the cogs on chapter pages and the lush cover is quite vibrant. My experience with steampunk literature is rather limited (aka Gordon Dahlquist and Gail Carriger), so perhaps staunch supporters of the genre would be able to really enjoy the detail that Cross goes in to. The world that Cross paints has the benefit of luxury (as one of the main characters and leader of the group, Griffin King, is a wealthy young Duke) being contrasted with the gritty world outside. There are still all kinds of crazy mechanical contraptions (including a whole lot of robots) and fashions that work in a good deal of body piercings. Introducing a unique element (or at least making it something *I* haven't yet seen before), Cross features a new form of ore that seems to function as a blended mechanical/organic composite -- and keeping this substance away from those who would use its powers for evil will obviously occupy a lot of time in the series... well, that and trying to figure out just how it works and how it has affected those who come in contact with it. Oh, and there's also this thing called the aether, which seems to encompass all living livings -- and dead ones, as it seems spirits exist in the aether. Are you smirking yet? I'll admit, I smirked quite often, and yet I think steampunk enthusiasts are willing to accept a lot of crazy things for the sake of fun, even if this seemed more sci-fi at times.

I would try to explain the plotline in greater detail, but truth be told, I still haven't managed to shake the feeling that I was tossed into a series midway through, and so I find it hard to summarize in anything vaguely resembling a linear trajectory. Even when you know the book says "Steampunk Chronicles #1," I still felt the compulsive need to do some internet research and see if there weren't, perhaps, other series somehow linked to this one... and even when I came up with nothing under this same author name, I still remain somewhat unconvinced that there isn't a manuscript floating around out there with earlier story installments for these characters. Without proof of that, though, my only explanation is that Cross seeks to put the reader on par with Finley, who is entering a group of friends rather late in the game, as they have a whole history of collaboration to their credit. There are, however, much better ways to suggest this than leaving your reader with the near-constant distracting feeling that she's missing something. It's downright frustrating to have lots of complications right at the start and a large cast of characters that obviously have convoluted emotions towards each other. The romantic tangles seemed to be more fitting for a second or third series installment, as triangles seemed already in place, and the characters themselves were never developed enough to the point where I felt like I sincerely cared for them. The story seemed to expect I would care about the good guys simply because I was told to (though some effort is put in to painting a "bad guy" as still being interesting and alluring). Finley herself is rather lacking in personality -- which almost seems hard to imagine, given that she's supposed to have two distinctly different sides, so you'd think at least one would jump out at you. Two strong male characters are drawn to her and yet I see no reason for them to feel this pull. And the villain? Well, I kept picturing "The Machinist" as Dr. Claw from Inspector Gadget and that's just not a good sign. His motivations (once we get to know them) seem flimsy and evil-villainy where one might otherwise hope for some nuance or at least solid reasoning.

In the end, I was rather disappointed in The Girl in the Steel Corset as a trailblazer for YA steampunk. (The only thing that seemed to make it YA appeared to be the ages of the main characters and the PG romance. There are romantic storylines in play, but nothing that ever takes us beyond an impassioned kiss.) Even the title ultimately proved misleading, as the steel corset really isn't an integral element to the story, beyond it's not-so-subtle fusion of the time period's costume with industrial steel-work. Hopefully Cross will be able to hit her stride with later books and develop her writing abilities, but I'm rather doubtful that I'll pick up future installments in this series.

Please note that I received an advanced review copy of this novel courtesy of NetGalley for the purpose of review.

The Goddess Test

2011-04-03T14:54:00.002-04:00

For everyone out there who thinks that all paranormal young adult fiction is flighty and completely monopolized by simple romances, I submit The Goddess Test as evidence to the contrary. At the heart of this novel is a girl struggling to cope with her mother's terminal illness -- including the practical ramifications of caring for her, the emotional challenges of saying goodbye, and the daunting confrontation of a future where the daughter is now totally alone. Classic young adult literature has a tradition of focusing on young people growing up and coming in to their own -- so in many ways, Aimee Carter's The Goddess Test seems to be melding the old with the new: the paranormal romance craze coming together with deeper, realistic conflict (which does not rest entirely with a romantic relationship). The combination doesn't always run smoothly, but I still believe The Goddess Test is definitely one of the more emotionally complicated and interesting supernatural YA reads of this year so far.

An upfront word of warning: Greek mythology purists will probably sputter and spew a bit at the liberties taken by Aimee Carter. It isn't as though she totally disregards classic mythology or anything so dreadful, but she does take creative license a bit beyond, say, the Percy Jackson series (which left the actual, older mythology relatively intact). Some of the reasoning behind these alterations are obvious given her plot requirements and most it gets explained with firm ties in to the general storyline. In her defense, Carter can easily call upon the innate malleability of mythology to make some small (and large) adjustments, but even I frowned once or twice before shrugging and moving on. It is, after all, her fiction. Purists of any sort have a tough time surviving the YA genre, so perhaps they'll have developed enough tolerance to accept that some things might never sit well, but that's no reason to disregard a novel and ignore its other, numerous benefits.

Kate's been living in the shadow of death for a long time now. Four years ago, Kate's mother was given six months to live... and has held on for all this additional time. It's only ever been the two of them together, without any additional family support, so coping with all of this is left entirely to Kate. Now, it appears the end is finally near and all her mother wants to do is die in the town where she grew up. So eighteen-year-old Kate drives them from Manhattan to Eden, Michigan and enrolls in the senior high school class at the local public high school, though with her attention always drifting back to her mother, school is not exactly topping Kate's priority list. Kate considers herself lucky to even make one friend (named James), though she doesn't quite endear herself to the school's queen bee, Ava, when Ava's boyfriend stares a little too lingeringly at the new girl. Given her general distraction, perhaps it's not surprising that Kate doesn't notice how odd things are around town... that is until a prank goes wrong and Kate tells a stranger that she'd do anything to bring back the dead Ava that five minutes earlier had been cruelly stranding her... even exchanging Kate's own freedom for half the year.

If you haven't figured it out yet, The Goddess Test is a story that builds upon the Persephone myth. The mysterious stranger offers a deal to Kate: in exchange for bringing Ava back to life, Kate must commit herself to living six months in the home of this tall, dark, and brooding individual. Ava regains consciousness, the bloodied head wound now gone, and Kate is severely spooked. At first, she refuses to believe any of it -- though Ava clearly reveres Kate for this action and now shadows her like James was already doing. When the stranger (who calls himself Henry) appears on her doorstep on the appointed date and Kate refuses -- Ava dies again, but this time with a much larger audience. This sends her running back to Henry to undo the action -- which cannot be undone, but he offers her an alternative... the opportunity to have more time with her mother until Kate is ready to say goodbye.

Kate spends her dreaming hours with her mother but her waking ones are far more complicated as she stays confined to the mansion that is Henry's home and the gate to the Underworld. The stakes of this little six month experiment turn out to be far higher for Henry than they are for Kate -- Henry, whose somewhat indifferent wife, Persephone, left him ages ago for a chance at real love, and who now rules the Underworld alone. Henry, whose godly brothers and sisters insist must find a wife who measures up to their expectations so as to deserve the prize of immortality, or else he will fade away and another take his place. If Kate fails the tests the gods and goddesses set forth, then she will walk away with her memory wiped, but Henry... and Kate finds that she cares more and more about what will happen to Henry, particularly as he himself does not seem very optimistic.

The Goddess Test features incredibly deep emotions -- and manages to convey this to the reader without too much over-kill. Eighteen-year-old Kate is managing to deal far better than expected with circumstances out of her control, but this novel still begins with a young person shouldering a burden far too large for her limited resources. Young adult literature found its roots in conveying messages of strength and courage, and so this story's roots are firmly planted in this tradition. Even if the reader were to miss the dedication to Carter's own mother, who has passed on, it's obvious that Carter is using the supernatural storyline to highlight what every grieving child might want -- more time with their loved one and more time to come to terms with what will inevitably be. The fact that the novel really rests upon the mother-daughter relationship is a welcome and fresh focus; and so it was somewhat disappointingly predictable that the romantic storyline tended to monopolize the second half of the novel. The mother-daughter relationship was not abandoned by any means, and the benefit of the shift of focus comes with knowing Kate is preparing herself for a life where her mother is no longer the focal point of her existence, but I was still frustrated with the shift (and equally so with any "resolution" to the experience of losing a parent, even if it's easy to foresee the ultimate ending here). As far as the Kate-Henry romance (for in =today's YA, a romantic relationship is practically required), readers will find the very complicated romantic storyline between them to be compelling. Personally, I also found it a little co-dependently twisted, but that didn't make it any less interesting. Henry, still somewhat broken over rejection from Persephone (who, he's quick to point out, he did not kidnap in this story's framework) is not very communicative even if he is outwardly pleasant and accommodating. There's a delicate balance to his representation that indicates he only takes pains to be polite and hospitable towards Kate and yet he can still come off as quietly tortured. Dark and brooding, he lurks about with far less power and might than one might expect from the lord of the Underworld -- there's only one moment in the story where the air seems to crackle with a hint of his power and it would have made for a sexier Bronte-esque hero if Henry were a bit more dangerous instead of being quite so sad and tender. (One can be all these things if one is a god, I think, for it would make for a nice volatile mix that would have fit well with the scene.) Kate herself obviously has hidden reserves of strength, but there's a strong reliance on others that doesn't seem quite right for a girl who seems to have absolutely no connections to anyone other than her mother when the story opens. That said, her own strong desire to fight for others once they do become important to her is very realistic and touching, particularly when she starts being convinced that her own interest in Henry has exceeded his own in her. James as sidekick and not-quite-really-a-rival-love-interest complicates things a little, but I was pleased Carter resisted the urge to make him a more prominent conflict than he already was. Ava's self-centered actions that were in no way malicious but only signaled a lack of thought for others were a rather refreshing addition to spice up the story when things were too moody. There's a whole host of additional characters, most of which serve a purpose and are somewhat transparent in their intentions, but the immediate supporting cast (particularly Ava and James) are nice, strong secondary characters.

Aimee Carter's debut work shows extreme promise for this fascinating new voice in the YA genre and even if I wasn't always pleased with her decisions, I was glued this book from beginning to end -- I devoured it in a single day and spent a good week with the story prominently swirling in my mind. There are some issues with predestination here that I'm still not reconciled to, but hey, we're dealing with the gods and goddesses so it's hardly uncommon for such a sentiment to be threaded through a story. The novel's impressive emotional depths owe a great deal to their status as tribute to Carter's feelings of loss for her own mother, but I hope that future Carter works are able to be just as fascinating without such personal ties fueling the story. Evidently this book is poised as the first in a series -- and I'm not quite sure how I feel about that, even if I was delighted with this, for I'm not sure where the story can possibly go that would be so compelling a place as this. The book stands on its own, I feel, and while there might be elements of discord, I appreciate the lack of a tidy bow. That said, I'll certainly be reading the next one and I urge you all to check out and mull over this auspicious new talent in the supernatural YA scene.

Please note that I received an advanced review copy of this novel courtesy of NetGalley for the purpose of review.

Anna and the French Kiss

2011-03-23T23:17:00.002-04:00

I know that we're only a few months into 2011, but I find it hard to believe that I'll read another novel as perfect as Anna and the French Kiss, the debut novel of Stephanie Perkins. I'm not even limiting that statement to the young adult market. I can't call it the best book of the year, because it was published in December of 2010, but I highly doubt I'll read anything this fabulous for a very long time (or if I do, I'll be very lucky, because this is really that good). If only I had read it when it was published! I would have had the perfect Christmas present for all my reading friends -- now I simply have to hope they don't talk to each other as the year ticks by and I slowly parcel out surprisingly familiar-looking birthday presents. It would be weird to just say to them, "Surprise! I bought you your birthday present in March!" for each and every one of them, right? ... No seriously, right? Because I could still do it...

In any case, Anna and the French Kiss is a deceptively simple teenage love story where the emphasis is on storytelling and character development. Stephanie Perkins doesn't go for the bells and whistles of ridiculous situations; instead she crafts a narrator that any young female reader doesn't simply want to read about, she wants to BE. Perkins, unlike so many other well-meaning YA writers, also seems to understand the difference between *telling* the reader that the main character is smart and funny... and actually *demonstrating* that she's smart and funny by virtue of her words and actions. That said, Anna's not a genius or some perfect creation, she's a realistic teenager who makes the occasional poor decision, but readers are always on her side because we've come to love her.

Anna Oliphant (called "Banana Elephant" by her best friend Brigette) has been sent to the School of America in Paris (fondly called SOAP by its students) by her nouveau riche father for her senior year of high school. Her parents are divorced and after the break seven years ago, dad dropped all dreams of being a great writer and sold out to become a best-seller, cranking out novels that the female market seems to gobble up, where the plot always seems to include an Illness and Doomed Love. Dad's stated reasoning for shipping his eldest off to Paris involves showing her the world and giving her a great experience, but Anna is convinced he's doing this so *he* can appear worldly and cultured by having a daughter at an international boarding school. Pulled away from her family and friends, Anna's now in a country where she doesn't speak the language and doesn't know a soul. Thankfully, while high school will always suck on some level, there are some decent people to be found. Anna's next-door-neighbor in the dorm, Meredith, takes Anna under her wing and draws her into a group of friends where Anna tries to find a place despite being the very new addition to a group with some history. One of the members of this group is Étienne St. Clair (called St. Clair by his friends), an "American" by birth raised in London (so he has a British accent). Unfortunately, he also has a girlfriend and is therefore off limits. (That *always* stops us from falling for these kinds of boys, right ladies?) Needless to say, Anna's lost from the start and this novel is the story of her senior year where she discovers Paris, herself, and the perils of navigating relationships on two continents.

In a time where every other YA novel seems to feature a vampire or werewolf, Anna and the French Kiss features a refreshingly mortal cast written in to the world as the reader knows it to be. No one's destined to be the Summer Queen and the only thing that seems immortal or endless is French class. The plot is refreshingly real and familiar -- a girl likes a boy but there's an obstacle. Novels about a teen in a new place have defined the YA genre (long before Bella moved to Forks), and yet there's fresh life breathed into this tale by Stephanie Perkins. Paris is practically the main character and the location is essential to the story, as opposed to just being a pretty backdrop. The really remarkable part of the novel rests in reviving this easily identifiable plot and using it to convey a fresh voice. Perkins creates a narrator that's full of charm and deep emotions. Anna is witty and sharp, quick to notice some details and totally blind to others. She's real, her friends are real, and their problems seem even more so. Perhaps the two most shocking things of all in the novel are that (1) Anna has actual interests of her own and (2) there's never a moment where phrases like "we talked all night" are substituted for the dialogue that proves real connection as opposed to just summoning it at whim and expecting this to be enough for the reader. Even if these high school seniors are rather mature (they act more like college study abroad students than seniors in high school), it's easy to accept and move past it. If you weren't already smitten, then the humor would do you in -- seriously, Anna/Perkins is one of the funniest narrators I've encountered in a long time -- and it never lets up, even as we move into the all-too-easy-to-identify-with torment of wondering whether Anna's imagining the details that mean so much when it comes to making a connection with a boy. I'm someone who tires quickly of novels where girls pine after boys ad nauseum, and while the reader may want to shake sense into Anna on occasion, it's in a good way... a "why do we all seem to make this exact same mistake when we know better" way.

It helps, of course, that Anna's love interest is a delight. You had me at British accent, Stephanie. Étienne St. Clair's complicated background and family life seethe beneath the surface of a charismatic teenage boy, one who isn't some unreachable ideal (he's short, he's moody, he has realistic relationship issues) and yet he's also adorable in all the right ways (he's short, he's moody, and he wears "The Hat," a visually offensive hat that his mother knit for him but since he loves his mother, he wears the hat... OMGCUTE). The connection between Anna and St. Clair has actual roots (that go beyond proximity and author whim) and St. Clair takes an interest in Anna's love of cinema, helping her explore Paris via movie theaters. When St. Clair's home life takes a dramatic and terrible turn, Anna is there for him -- and like a real boy, he allows himself to lean on the friend he needs and the complications that ensue make sure everything seems tangled and no issues are clear cut. The reader might be screaming for St. Clair to leave his girlfriend and date Anna, but it's impossible to not understand his hesitations in light of his character, which provide a very real problem for him (and, consequently, Anna).

Added to the mix are a supporting cast of friends with their own issues -- who are almost perfectly measured so they can remind us that Anna and St. Clair are not the only people in the world and yet the supporting characters never overpower the main plotline or do anything to draw real focus away and confuse. The end result? You've got a superb group for being young and in Paris... which, let's face it, we all wish we could be, even if it came at the cost of reliving the follies of our late teenage years. Maybe *that's* the true miracle of this book -- Perkins makes the tortured angst of unrequited teenage love seem appealing. Sure, it's awful for Anna as she over-analyzes every single word and gesture, but we readers all remember what it was to be in her shoes and so this is the perfect way to experience those emotions without actually enduring twin extra long beds. (Incidentally, this book also features one of the sweetest and most awkward scenes that defines an unspoken attraction in all of young adult literature. A scene that had me shifting in my seat and making a noise that resembled a smothered squeal.) Stephanie Perkins never hits a wrong note and the ending will have the reader internally wrestling with the best dilemma a book can offer: do you gobble it all down and race to the end or do you try to pace yourself and savor every word? (Solution: gobble, then take your time with a second helping/reading.)

Do yourself a favor and go read this book right now. It will be the best thing you'll do all week, if not all month or even year (unless you're giving birth or getting married or something... then I can kind of understand how that might win out). I specifically bought the hardcover version because even before reading it, I knew this would be one I'd want to pass around. I've been delighted to loan this book to several girlfriends, all of whom now share my giant, goofy grin whenever Anna is mentioned. I keep loaning it out because if I have Anna back in my possession for more than a day, I abandon all other reading selections to re-read it. What more can I say? Hurry up and join the Anna and the French Kiss party -- teenage romance has never been so charming. C'est magnifique to say the very least.

The Slap

2011-03-17T00:03:00.003-04:00

We've all been there: we're at some a casual party and the guest list makes for an interesting combination of family, friends, even colleagues... and, of course, there's just one kid who could very well be the spawn of Satan. His parents adore him and he's spoiled rotten (in indulgent behavior if not in material items), so everyone knows there's no hope of getting his actions in line; we all simply have to endure the experience and hope he just doesn't start screaming or hurt someone. In Christos Tsiolkas's novel, The Slap, just such a situation takes a controversial turn -- the brat makes a movement that could potentially be seen as threatening to another child and that child's father intervenes to slap the offending brat. The rest of the novel resounds with this slap as it reverberates in the lives of every attendee. As the next few months play out, eight different perspectives are used to further the story along and explore the massive amount of tensions within the lives of those involved.

There's no easy way to summarize the novel -- like life, everything is tangled up and has become too complicated for simple summaries. The Slap is set in Australia and tensions abound. There's racial tension, cultural tension, religious tension, generational tension, classist tension, sexual tension... it's a society where everyone is allowed to have a valid opinion, no one's existence should be negatively impacted by another's, and yet there are very few relationships (friendships or otherwise) that are not strained as a result.

Since the book is all about the relationships between people (and a bit about what those relationships say with regards to society at large), the best way to explain things is to give a cast list. The book opens with the perspective of Hector, the son of Greek immigrants, who seems to compensate for never having found a career passion by being a bit of a philanderer, despite having a beautiful Indian wife, Aisha. They have two kids and are the hosts of the fateful barbecue alluded to above. Hector is sleeping with a teenager named Connie who works in his wife's veterinary clinic (she's eighteen, it's legal). Connie's best friend is Richie, another teenager just coming out of the closet, and they're both trying to figure out their lives as they potentially move on to university. Hector's cousin, Harry, is the guy whose child is threatened and who does the slapping. Harry has a temper and a fierce prejudice against people who simply do not pull it together to do right by their families (like the family of the slapped child, he believes). An excellent father, Harry has a successful car repair/garage business (he's even lenient in dealing with an employee who is stealing from him), a beautiful home, and an excellent relationship with his wife... and the mistress whom he supports (and who has kids that are probably not Harry's).

Meanwhile, the child who was slapped is named Hugo and he really is quite dreadful. Hugo's father is Gary, a struggling (read: failed) artist who drinks a great deal and gets blamed for a large number of his small family's issues (and the legal drama that ensues), but is not necessarily always at fault despite appearances. Hugo's mother is Rosie, one of Aisha's oldest friends and after being a somewhat wild child/wild young adult/wild adult, she has settled down and made Hugo her world. She's still breastfeeding him at age four. Let this single observation tell you all kinds of things about her. Rosie and Aisha are also dear friends with Anouk, who doesn't have children and so doesn't quite understand Rosie and Aisha at times, though she also chooses not to tell them when she realizes she's pregnant (by her much-younger-than-she-is television star boyfriend) and decides to have an abortion. Aisha is torn in her allegiances on the slapping issue as a result of the fact that it's her best friend versus her husband's family. Hector's parents (Harry's aunt and uncle) are Manolis and Koula, who think the kid deserved the slap and are not thrilled about Aisha's inability to totally stand with the family (though really, Koula refuses to even say Aisha's name). Also within the circle are two married, converted Muslims who, if the Muslim-conversion-thing wasn't enough controversy as it is, are an interracial couple -- he's Aboriginal and she's white.

I think that includes all the major players. An ecclectic bunch to be sure, and Tsiolkas is covering a great deal of ground by including such complicated people in his novel. It means that the topics touched upon range far and wide -- though perhaps the one thing Tsiolkas isn't writing a novel about is child abuse. Instead, everyone seems to acknowledge that hitting a child is a wrong thing, but the issue of a person snapping is a much more accessible moment... and can be illustrated in the daily lives of us all when we reach a moment that pushes us into a decision we might not otherwise make. Personal allegiances and beliefs muddy the waters here as characters are forced to choose sides or awkwardly defend their neutral status. A moment like this, where a child is struck by an adult, is supposed to be a clear-cut situation -- physical violence in polite society is supposed to be completely unacceptable. Instead, a single instance of breaking this carefully maintained control on one's physical impulses calls in to question the numerous other sins hidden under the guise of a "civilized" state as impotent desires seethe and burn under our skins.

Tsiolkas may be making a statement about Australian society (and indeed, many of the racial slurs and classist issues within the story were surprising elements of Australia that had previously been unknown to me), but his larger themes include more than that single continent, enveloping a number of modern cultures that must deal with differences that are not allowed to be treated as differences. Certain voices rang truer than others and there were certain similarities in tone, but on the whole, I found Tsolkas to present interesting narrators who might not be likable but could never really be pushed entirely into the truly detestable camp. Even the "good guys" make wrong choices or do less than ideal things.

We read this for my book club and we had a rousing discussion -- I always enjoy books that provoke different reactions from people, as it allows us to delve in to the reasons we felt as we did and what caused the splits of opinion. The Slap was really an ideal read, given its multiple perspectives and strong societal themes at the heart of its narrative. Some people might be horrified by the graphic sex, drugs, and various behaviors. Maybe I'm just a dissolute and profligate New Yorker, but I thought even some of these things had incredibly positive and redemptive elements to them -- perhaps it really is all about perspective.

The Vespertine

2011-03-14T00:02:00.002-04:00

I appreciate Saundra Mitchell's The Vespertine for trying to find uncharted paranormal waters in the YA market, but despite a lush depiction of 1889 Baltimore society, I was somewhat turned off by an overly-dramatic narration that seemed to take itself just a little too seriously for a book where personification of the elements was snuck in as a key relationship issue.

The book opens on a rather confusing note, but if you manage to make it through, you realize that our story deals with Amelia, a girl shut up in her brother's house and believed to be mad -- but we quickly jump back in time to see the path that brought her to that point. Fresh from Maine, Amelia is sent to board with the Stewart family who has a daughter Amelia's age so Amelia can have a Season in Baltimore and find an eligible match. Her family doesn't have much money, so this will likely be the only Season she can get, and of course, her very first dinner party has her falling for the wrong man. Nathaniel Witherspoon is a "Fourteenth," a young man paid to attend a party where otherwise there would be thirteen guests and superstition demands an addition. An artist without independent means, he is the very last person Amelia should be encouraging... but try as she might, she cannot quite help herself. Meanwhile, Amelia stumbles upon a gift that she also cannot seem to help -- when gazing in to the fading sunset light, she catches a flash of a vision that heralds the future. At first, it's an image of her new friend Zora, dancing with a young man she fancies in a gown with lilies on it. When the vision comes true, Zora begins to tell others of Amelia's gift and suddenly the girls are becoming popular with more and more people as word leaks out. They aren't always visions of consequence -- sometimes it's something as simple as a lost glove or a voyage, and with just a flash, the whole story can hardly be seen. But Amelia's visions come at a time when society is clambering for all kinds of this clairvoyant behavior -- seeing in to the future, communing with dead spirits, reading minds at parties. Others might be shams, but Amelia knows her visions are real... but some have very real consequences. What eventually drives Amelia back to Maine compromised and in shame is a twisted sequence of events that even Amelia could not have foreseen.

The two things in Mitchell's favor are her grasp of the time period coupled with the subtlety of her paranormal twist. The description of American society in 1889 pulls the reader in with her attention to detail and unique setting. I've never come across a novel set in Baltimore at this time, so it has the benefit of a city's polish with the rougher America surrounding it -- which is certainly evident in Amelia's home town of "Broken Tooth." Hardly an address a girl would care to own up to, and so the need for a girl to rise into higher society is obvious, giving the society parties and gowns a grander scale as seen through her eyes. In addition, unlike other novels where a heroine falls into an entirely new paranormal world, Amelia's world seems rather true to reality, save for her strange ability to see glimpses of the future. She cannot direct her visions, save focusing on a specific person, and there appears to be no one else with any abnormal gifts (until we start learning more about a certain someone who has a rather strong appeal for Amelia). As a result, Mitchell has formed the basic plot of a story with great potential and demonstrates her ability to write historical fiction well... so what goes wrong? Let me say that I wanted so badly to like this book. I love the published cover but I actually prefer the cover that was attached to the galley I received (pictured here). It's really quite beautiful -- but then, the published one is also pretty. I also like the idea of a slight paranormal tinge to an otherwise historical romance, as stated before. The descriptions of the time period are woven with rich detail, yet it isn't as though that attention is quite to blame for most of the characters being sketched just a little too lightly. Still, there is still plenty to interest anyone who would choose to enjoy themselves while reading it.

Unfortunately, Mitchell's writing is a bit over-wrought with flourishes and complications, particularly at moments when she's deliberately trying to be evasive with fantastic experiences that hint at the paranormal. The prologue is almost incomprehensible, which might be forgiven if Amelia actually were in any way crazy, but it still makes for a hard couple of pages to muddle through before the actual story begins. While Mitchell eventually settles into a better rhythm, the scenes which ought to be savored are the ones that suffer the most from a desire to make them that much more beautiful by offering both too much and too little for the reader to be satisfied. I worry that Mitchell spent far too long working and re-working these particular passages, for the reader should be sighing with pleasure instead of confusion. Amelia's illicit relationship with Nathaniel Witherspoon is a bit odd... they are drawn to each other without much reason, though to be fair at least Amelia seems to recognize how absurd it is to feel like she's on fire for this young artist. The ultimate explanation is acceptable, one supposes, but as a result they seem too fated for each other, which goes against all of the wonderful emotions that Mitchell had manages to describe, like a girl's anxious wait for a boy at a dance, particularly when the boy in question is totally unacceptable as a proper match. His appeal seems to rest solely in his beauty and his forbidden status -- this isn't a novel where the love interests spend time in much discussion and you feel as though they're realistically falling in love so much as they're simply attracted to each other on a number of levels. It's a pity, too, because when one learns Nathaniel's secret, he becomes much more interesting and yet we don't have much time to explore that side of him. Amelia herself is a bit one-note, but pleasantly so as a girl who doesn't realize the trouble she's falling in to. Zora, her friend, is a delight in the beginning and eventually fades into something less vibrant once she falls in love and yields up her independent character and presence to a storyline that simply needs her to play a part.

There are parts of The Vespertine where I saw great potential, but ultimately I finished the novel feeling rather disappointed. The opening of the novel is so dramatic as far as it concerns Amelia's sanity and stained reputation, but when all is played out, I was disappointed that Amelia didn't kick it up a notch and actually do something to merit it all. The ultimate ending for Amelia is predictable and somewhat anti-climactic. Such a shame, really, as the idea of a girl with flashes of clairvoyance in an otherwise realistic setting was quite intriguing -- and the actual historic detail is excellent and interesting. When all is said and done, though, Mitchell's novel only has its own sparks of good moments and is trying much too hard to shine. Perhaps her next book will find some benefit in the fact that, presumably, she'll have less time to fuss and obscure the clarity of what she's really trying to say with such affected flourishes.

ARC courtesy of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt via NetGalley for reviewing purposes.

Matched

2011-03-12T12:22:00.003-05:00

Meh. My general rating of Matched would be about 2.5 stars, based solely on the idea that I'm giving Ally Condie the benefit of the doubt and that she still more interesting things in store... perhaps even things that aren't the YA romance version of The Giver.

This is the summary given on the book's website:

In the Society, Officials decide. Who you love. Where you work. When you die.
Cassia has always trusted their choices. It’s hardly any price to pay for a long life, the perfect job, the ideal mate. So when her best friend appears on the Matching screen, Cassia knows with complete certainty that he is the one… until she sees another face flash for an instant before the screen fades to black. Now Cassia is faced with impossible choices: between Xander and Ky, between the only life she’s known and a path no one else has ever dared follow — between perfection and passion.

Cassia is believable as a character who sees nothing wrong with the system that's in place to keep her happy and healthy, but when a large number of things come together to unsettle her, she's no longer quite so sure that everything is as perfect as she once thought it to be. At her Matching banquet, she and her best friend Xander are matched -- and it's an incredibly rare event when two people are matched from within the same community. She's delighted and clearly he is, too. When she receives the computer card with information on her match, she's a bit amused, as she already knows everything about him... and then the card shows her the face of another boy in her community and everything changes. The mere suggestion of an alternate future is the tip of the iceberg. Cassia's grandfather is scheduled to die (people die at age 80 in this world) and suggests life is not all it should be. He shows her a hidden trick to the watch she had inherited -- which conceals a poem that wasn't destroyed when their society decided that too many things made it impossible to really appreciate them, so 100 of every poem, book, and song were kept while all others were destroyed. Raids on homes stir some unrest. The fact that Ky, the boy she's strangely drawn to, is explained away as someone who will never be matched... well, Cassia now has a number of questions and can only be satisfied with answers that will be difficult to come by.

The utopian/dystopian society is a pretty common trope in today's young adult literature, but it's impossible not to cite The Giver as the inspiration for this one. Cassia's world is completely regulated -- food is distributed and specifically tailored to each person, matches are set for marriage, jobs are given out according to capabilities, housing is assigned. Everyone carries two colored pills with them at all times (one of which helps with anxiety and the other is only to be taken when asked to do so by an official). When Cassia starts to question things, suddenly she starts to see a large number of things that she'd never seen before -- indications that the world isn't perfect and that there is a resistance to it all. Her naive understanding that the greater powers wouldn't see what she's up to is in keeping with the "realistic" depiction of someone waking up to all this, but it's still somewhat frustrating that Cassia is so slow to pick up on things. There's also nothing particularly interesting to Cassia that would endear her to a reader, beyond the simple fact that she experienced the glitch that showed her an alternate future with an alternate match. On the whole, I found the characters to not be as well-developed as I wanted them to be, and yet Condie was able to pepper the story with interesting details. (The swatch of dress fabric that each girl gets to keep from her Matching dress, the use of food as a means of control, the limited choices given to people as recreational activities.) The world itself was well-drawn, but the characters that inhabited it all seemed to be filling sketched-in roles to further the plot. Kyle is quiet and strong, a little too perfect and yet that's all necessary to move the plot along. Xander is annoyingly understanding of Cassia's confusion. Cassia's parents are more complicated than Cassia realizes at first and the story might have benefited from their greater involvement.

On the whole, I just don't understand this novel's appeal, unless teens today just never read The Giver, as there's an abundance of dystopian novels out there right now that. There's enough here to suggest that Condie has bigger ideas for the rest of the installments in this series, but obviously it was hard for me to really lose myself in the story as I didn't find many things to feel particularly original. A re-telling or update is one thing, but this seems to be passing off so many themes as its own that I found it somewhat distasteful. Coupled with characters that I didn't feel any deep emotion for and, well, I just don't understand why this has held on to a bestseller spot for weeks now. Hopefully the rest of the series will allow Condie to show some real creativity beyond small details.

Cloaked

2011-03-08T23:13:00.003-05:00

Once upon a time in Miami, there lived a boy who dreamed of making shoes...

Aside from the whole Miami bit, it sounds like it could be straight out of Hans Christian Andersen or the Brothers Grimm, right? Well, Alex Flinn is leading the charge (or at least she's up there in the front lines, holding a really big heraldic banner or something) in transforming fairy tales for the modern age, mashing them up to create fun new stories. With their origins in older fairy tales, books written by Alex Flinn always feel like you've read them before, back when you fell into her targeted demographic (or maybe it's just that she makes anyone with an appreciation for whimsy believe that they are, once again, in her targeted demographic), and that makes them feel cozy. Cloaked is her latest and it's quite charming.

Johnny and his mother run the shoe repair shop in a posh South Beach hotel, across from his best friend Meg and her family's coffee counter. Dad disappeared years ago and with financial difficulties aplenty, Johnny and his mom work night and day to keep themselves afloat. His dream is to become a famous shoe designer and he spends his free time (or what little there is of it between repair jobs) sketching masterpieces on heels. He's no flighty kid, though; Johnny knows that there's no such thing as magic and it's hard work that will get him someplace... hard work and maybe a lucky break. Enter the much-photographed partying Princess Victoriana. If she got photographed wearing his shoes, he could launch his career and she's scheduled to check in to his hotel, but how to get her the shoes? As the hotel prepares to cater to the princess's every whim, nothing could prepare Johnny for the Princess singling him out to ask for his help. She invites him up to her room and tells him a secret: her brother, the crown prince, has been turned into a frog by a witch. If the princess agrees to marry the evil son of a rival monarchy, the witch will change the prince back -- otherwise, the prince is doomed to be a frog until he's kissed by a girl with love in her heart. The princess insists that she can't even trust her personal bodyguards, as she fears that one of them is spying on her, and so she needs the help of one who is hard-working and loyal. Johnny is about ready to declare her totally insane when he accidentally makes use of a magic cloak given to him by the princess which transports him to any location he wishes. Suddenly, the world is full of magic and used-to-be-humans turned animals -- and Johnny will need a great deal of help from six swans, a rat, a fox, and his best friend Meg if he hopes to save the prince and achieve happily ever after... but is "happily ever after" even close to what he might expect?

For Cloaked, Flinn draws upon a number of classic fairy tales, many of which have fallen out of popular knowledge: "The Elves and the Shoemaker," "The Frog Prince," "The Six Swans," "The Golden Bird," "The Salad," and "The Fisherman and His Wife." It's unfortunate that the Disney movie The Princess and the Frog came out before this book, but so it goes. Little girls already knew the whole princess-kissing-a-frog outline and this simply returns to the roots of the tale. The other stories are threaded in for a delightful mix of flight and fancy, with the ultimate moral being that it really is hard-work and a good heart that will triumph over all. Meg is a wonderfully competent girl while Victoriana proves to have a great deal more substance than the paparazzi would have folks believe. Johnny is a winning hero, even if he isn't the stereotypical male lead that one tends to find in YA novels. (He isn't a brooding paranormal creature, for one.) Johnny is a young man who means well and works hard... just the kind of guy that those of us older than the intended teen readers would encourage our younger selves to sigh over, as he's sweet and caring even if he (like most boys) can be a little clueless. He's the stereotypical male best friend who too often doesn't get the girl... cute and sweet with a heart of gold and his only real stumbling comes from (a) trying to do the right thing or (b) having issues expressing his real feelings. Ah if only they were all so easy in real life... and all liked shoes to this degree.

Overall, the best description for Cloaked really is "charming," and I hope young adult/older-than-young-adult readers agree. This book is perfectly fine for even the younger teens, as there isn't really any objectionable content. Flinn's got a knack for updating classics (just check out Beastly, her previous book which is being made into a movie that hit theaters this past weekend) and I'm already looking forward to her next creation.

Please note that this isn't an entirely impartial review, as this book factors in to my professional world, but this is still a truthful review written in my personal space, so weight my opinion as you will.

City of Bones

2011-03-07T21:41:00.002-05:00

Seriously, guys, why did none of you tell me that this book featured a redhead from Park Slope? Had you clued me in, I'm sure I would have read this much sooner... but as it is,I picked up City of Bones because I suddenly felt out of the YA loop having never read a Cassandra Clare book. Overall, I would say that this book (and series in general) gets points for the storyline and certain details, with an added bonus for doing something I haven't yet encountered in a YA novel. The writing itself isn't particularly noteworthy (and at times can be a little lacking), but Clare can certainly craft an epic storyline and carry the reader along with her... so by the time you realize there are some massive plot issues, you've finished the book and have already bought the sequel.

Clary (short for Clarissa) Fray lives a fairly normal life for a fifteen-going-on-sixteen-year-old in Brooklyn -- she goes to school, she hangs out with her best friend, Simon, and she argues with her mother. At the under-age club Pandemonium, however, she witnesses what appears to be a murder -- until she realizes she's the only one who can see both the victim and the assailants, all of whom appear to be quite young and covered in strange tattoo-like markings (including one boy that Clary finds distractingly handsome). She rightly guesses that seeing things no one else can see isn' a very good sign... and in fact, it's the first indication that she's seeing the world clearly for the first time in her life, though this makes life infinitely more complicated.

The paranormal catch to this series is angels -- well, specifically, the Nephilim, which are supposedly the descendents of men and angels and are entrusted with the sacred duty of protecting the world from demons. This involves some complicated politics when there are also vampires, werewolves, fairies, and warlocks/witches wandering about the earth, too, all of which the Nephilim tend to group together as "Downworlders" and treat like second-class citizens (even lower on the totem pole than regular ol' people that are called "mundanes"). Clary discovers that she can now see everything because even though she was raised as a mundane, well, there are things that mom wasn't telling her... and can't, because it appears she's been abducted from their home. Clary is "taken in" by Jace, Alex, and Isabelle, who may be teenagers but they've been fighting evil for years. Jace, the handsome boy who caught her eye, continued to be frustratingly fascinating and Clary's attraction to him causes major issues with best friend Simon. In order to save Clary's mom and discover just what (or who) is behind the recent rise in demon activity in Brooklyn, they must all band together... but along the way, they might just uncover far more unpleasant things about themselves.

All in all, City of Ashes is a fascinating ride into Cassandra Clare's fantasy world, provided you don't look too closely at it. Think of it as a theme park ride -- not quite as quick as a roller coaster but definitely something where you're not encouraged to take a backwards glance. (Seriously, one photograph or detailed discussion with anyone older than eighteen would totally have ruined the course of events in this entire series. The blanket "mechanical things don't work well in the angel city" doesn't quite cut it, I'm sorry.) The sexual issues are rather intense for a YA novel and I'd probably refrain from handing this series off to the younger teen set. The characters themselves seem to be a little young for what they're all dealing with, really. As with all first novels in a series, there's a lot of information being thrown to reader/Clary at a fast pace, but Clary is usually a bit slower than the reader to pick up on things. (PS The author's surname Clare and the main character's name of Clary? That's just a bit too close for me to be comfortable with this author's level of character association.) Clary is sadly a bit too much of a cookie-cutter YA heroine (beautiful redhead but unaware of her attractiveness, far more comfortable in jeans and a hoodie, has an impressive artistic talent, endearingly clumsy, etc.) and she's not terribly bright. Clearly a good amount of work went into this first novel, though, as I feel like the detail given to Clary's life in particular was very well presented (references to Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain series did not go unappreciated), even if other details were sadly lacking. Isabelle and Alex might be secondary characters but some thought went in to their backstories -- or at least Alex's as he struggles with his sexuality. Unfortunately, the villain Valentine is very Voldemort-wannabe -- or perhaps Tom Riddle, as we haven't gotten to full-on snake-face just yet -- and I was rather disappointed with him. One doesn't quite get the level of fear that he inspires in the older set (and while I thought this might be a book one thing, it's actually true through the whole series). Jace is slightly too perfect, but at least here one can trust in Clare to add in a good amount of complications to his character, as this is clearly just the beginning for him. I appreciate his snarky and too-quick humor as a way to move the book along, and hinting and his capabilities for self-destructive behavior that will undoubtedly come out in greater force in future books. Clary's attraction to him is incredibly sudden and predictable. Simon's love for Clary is obvious and also predictable -- but even if Simon is the token guy-best-friend-in-love-with-the-girl, he's at least an endearing depiction of one. The twist that comes with this odd threesome is interesting... something the reader will guess quick enough (aka LONG before Clary), but I still found it fascinating, if only because I haven't encountered in YA lit before. It becomes the dark question that will drive readers on to the next book, as the general storyline might not be quite as compelling as that twisty question, even if the rest of the storyline is grand in its scale. Very Star Wars, folks... and Clare even directly references Star Wars earlier in the book, so the savvy reader (who has somehow avoided spoilers for this book) will pick up on that early on.

Fans of paranormal YA have probably all discovered Clare before me, so this is all old hat to you. On the off chance that you're like me and haven't, but enjoy the genre, then I would recommend giving City of Ashes a read. Don't expect too much from it or over-analyze it and I think you'll find that it's quite entertaining and engaging, as Clare has created quite an intriguing world, even if it does require some suspension of disbelief... beyond the usual, I mean, because we're talking about half-angel ass-kicking demon-fighters.

The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag

2011-02-23T18:43:00.001-05:00

Having been utterly charmed by Flavia de Luce in The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, I was somewhat surprised when I came across others who hadn't been as delighted as I. This questioning led me to delay my purchase of The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag... or perhaps it was that I felt offended when the publisher made the poor decision to change the binding for the hardcover publication. (I had adored that small hardcover without a jacket of the first book and was quite put out when the switch to a more traditional hardcover with jacket was made to the second. Amusingly enough, they seem to have realized the error and the third book, A Red Herring Without Mustard was published in the original style.) That said, when I noticed the paperback was available, I decided I had gone too long without a dose of Flavia... and The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag brings back all the delight of Flavia and her fantastic intelligence as she assists on another murder in her small hamlet of Bishop's Lacey.

While Flavia does not immediately stumble upon a body in the garden this time, there is certainly murder in the air... though this time, it comes on the heels of a puppet show. The van of a famous puppeteer has broken down and there's certainly a tangled story within these displays. The puppeteer ends up dead and Flavia is the first to figure out that he's not such a stranger to this community after all. The story touches upon the perspective of a German-in-England prisoner of war, the presence of cannabis in post-war England, the art of puppetry and stagecraft, and the usual mix of strange and unusual concoctions in Flavia's laboratory -- including the many ways one can not-quite-lethally poison a terrible older sister.

I still think this is a fabulous series that can be read by teen girls (or boys, for that matter) who are scientifically/chemically inclined. Perhaps it's best if they don't have siblings, though, as Daffy and Feely reach new lows as they torment Flavia... and we all know that Flavia is never one to drop the subject without retaliation. Flavia's at her best when dealing with her sisters -- her tone as she deduces critical plot points can certainly get a bit too mature at times, but I accept this as a more than adequate trade for the delight of her other moments as she tries to unravel the secrets in her own home and lovingly sets to work amidst her flasks and beakers. In this book, a dreaded aunt appears to provide some interesting perspective on their family, though Flavia might simply wind up with more questions than ever on that front.

So to heck with everyone who disliked the first Flavia. I'm still as much a fan of the second mystery as I was the first -- and I thought settling back in to Flavia's world was a delight. There's a very recognizable narratorial voice here and from page one, I had a smile on my face as I was immediately brought back to the world of Bishop's Lacy and its environs. So if you liked The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, I think you'll find The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag to be jolly good fun -- and for those who have yet to experience Flavia, I think you're in for a real treat. And not like the kind Flavia has doctored up for Feely.

The Iron Queen

2011-02-22T23:44:00.004-05:00

Huzzah! Finally, I feel like The Iron Queen is the fabulousness that I had been told to expect from Julie Kagawa. I'll admit, I had serious doubts about this series after the lovesick teenage focus of The Iron Daughter and I'm not entirely sure if Meghan got better or I simply broke through the wall to get zen about it and really ignore all that had bothered me... it might be a combination of the two. Whatever it was, it worked, and I thought The Iron Queen was a book worthy of the promise that Kagawa had shown in the simple creation of this interesting meld of faery lore and new twists.

The Iron Daughter ended with Meghan and Ash together -- granted, they were nearly killed in their ordeal to stop the war between Summer and Winter, and as recompense for their troubles, they were exiled from the Nevernever -- but still, they're together. Perhaps this helped get us pass the "squee! Ash and Meghan!" response that Iron Daughter seemed to want from me but I just couldn't muster. Not only was Ash always so silent, but Meghan was so very girly, I just didn't care. By the end, though, they made a sacrifice for each other and I felt like we could finally get them to have a real conversation or something so we could base their relationship on more than his cold hotness. They grew up. Or at least Meghan did and Ash learned to string more than a few words together. They hadn't necessarily achieved that by the end of the second installment, but by the beginning of this one, you could tell they were on their way.

So it's Meghan and Ash trying to find a way to bring down the fake Iron King... and, thank goodness once again, Puck is along for the ride -- not delighted with Meghan's decision but he's taking it rather well. Kagawa really owns this storyline and does some fabulous twists along the way. Even if you can see the ending coming, one doesn't necessarily mind it. It's the exact right ending for the book, as the series will continue on. Fans of the series will be delighted with everything. Those like me who needed a little more convincing will finally plant their flag in the pro-Iron Fey camp. But let's keep our fingers crossed that things continue on this excellent path as the Nevernever is taken in directions it has never ever gone before.

The Iron Daughter

2011-02-20T17:22:00.002-05:00

Well, The Iron Daughter reminded me of something I can lose sight of when reading young adult literature -- it's written for young adults and features young adults. This means hormones are raging and very little logic is to be found, particularly when the object of one's affection no longer appears to love the heroine, even when there's a darn good reason for him acting that way. That said, OH COME ON. There's accurately depicting a teenager and then there's alienating your reader. It's an interesting experience to continue reading a book in spite of the protagonist. If I could have throttled Meghan, I would have. At several moments in the story. Gee honey, let's stop wailing for about three minutes to remember that Ash indicated the Winter court was dangerous and if either of you showed weakness, you'd both be in trouble. Maybe this has something to do with him appearing to avoid you? Or acting cold and callous when others are around to witness it?

Ahem. Let me start over. The Iron Daughter is the second book in the Iron Fey series written by Julie Kagawa. There's a short little novella that leads in to this one, available only online, called Winter's Passage which gives the reader a bit more info on the trip that Ash and Meghan make from her home to the Winter court as they fulfill Meghan's end of the bargain made in exchange for Ash helping her save her brother in the last book. Basically, there's some kissing and some sighing over their tragic situation, as Winter and Summer fey aren't supposed to fall in love and it's far worse when he's a Winter prince and she's the half-breed daughter of Oberon, the Summer king. (That said, the little story isn't necessary and most of it is repeated at the beginning of The Iron Daughter.)

Ash warns Meghan that the Winter court is ruthless and cruel... and that she should trust no one, including him. He also emphasizes that if anyone knew that they cared for each other, they'd use it against them. This flits out of Meghan's head upon arrival, as she's shocked when Ash once again assumes his cold exterior and treats her like a near-stranger. Meanwhile, she might as well tattoo his name on her forehead, as everyone knows she appears to love him from day one. Oh, and Queen Mab has cut off Meghan's faery powers, leaving her feel even more helpless. Meghan endures the rather wretched people of the Winter court, including Ash's brothers who are not exactly well-behaved, and when she's not trying simply to survive, she's moping. She winds up the sole survivor in a sneak attack on the Winter Court by the NEW Iron King (didn't think we were done with that just because Meghan killed to steal some scepter that signals the passing of seasons... and surprise surprise, Ash has to come in and save her.

So Ash and Meghan are on the lamb again and their romantic issues are far from over as they try to find a way to stop the new Iron King before the Winter and Summer courts go to war against each other (as, naturally, they believe the other responsible for the drama over the scepter). Puck shows up (thank goodness), unlikely allies are made, and the storyline marches forward to take some fun and interesting twists and turns. Ultimately, my three star rating exists because of the larger storyline at work around Meghan. Once you ignore her and her wailing over Ash (seriously, girl, we get it), the other elements that Kagawa has crafted are really quite excellent. The standard war between Winter and Summer with the insidious threat of the Iron kingdom... hats off. For me, though, there were way too many moments in The Iron Daughter that I was enduring instead of enjoying. I will say, however, that while I was annoyed with this installment in the series, Kagawa made up for it in spades with The Iron Queen. So read this one quickly (or at least skim over the teenage Meghan bits) and get ready for number three.

Winter's Passage

2011-02-13T19:22:00.001-05:00

Winter's Passage by Julie Kagawa is book 1.5 in the Iron Fey series -- a quick little story/novella that fills in some space between books 1 and 2. Available only as an ebook, it could very well be an interesting look at the series for those contemplating whether or not they want to commit, but I rather saw it as something only fans would appreciate.

At the very end of The Iron King, Ash came to take Meghan to the Winter court and his queen, which was part of the bargain he made with her to secure his assistance in defeating Machina, the Iron King. Of course, that was before they fell for each other, but a faery never goes back on a promise, and he had sworn to bring her to Queen Mab. So now they must navigate the Wyldwood (and the dangerous fey within) in order to read the Unseelie/Winter court, Tir Na Nog.

This little 52-page story a very quick bite, nothing so serious that it would actually feel satisfying without being accompanied by the other books. Ash and Meghan make the trip and there's all kinds of angst, of course, with regards to the Summer fey/Winter fey romance being totally forbidden. Meghan has one small detour request before they go straight to Tir Na Nog... she wants to visit Puck, her friend who took a bullet towards the end of The Iron King and is now in a kind of limbo, suspended in a tree in New Orleans (this makes more sense in the book than it does in summary). There's no telling when/if he'll wake up, and so really this just gives Meghan time to reflect/more time with Ash.

Still, I don't feel like they have a valid relationship. These just seem to be more pages spent wallowing in the "oh what do we do?" of their forbidden romance. And even if there was a bit where they get a little more comfortable with each other prior to arrival, there's a quick dissolve into the prince's steely exterior once they reach the Winter court. Meghan, meanwhile, proves that she's not very smart when she doesn't understand why Ash isn't all lovey-dovey. Sigh. Much of the content (though not all of it) is repeated in The Iron Daughter, so I wouldn't necessarily pay for this offering unless you're enjoying the series -- and if that's the case, then you definitely should get it, as otherwise the whole immediate arrival at the Winter court seems a bit odd as we kick off The Iron Daughter.

The Iron King

2011-02-12T10:55:00.001-05:00

Julie Kagawa's Iron Fey series cropped up all of a sudden on my radar, with a few different sources noting that this was a great new author/world/series. So I yielded to temptation and started the first book, The Iron King -- and while it's definitely intriguing and a quick read, it wasn't quite as fabulous as the praise had led me to believe. That said, I do think this series could move in *very* interesting directions, so I will totally keep on reading with the hope that Kagawa takes Meghan Chase in fascinating new plotlines that twist throughout Nevernever.

Almost-sixteen-year-old Meghan Chase lives in the middle of nowhere and believes that she is not very interesting in the slightest. Her version of "dressing up" involves clean cargo pants (mostly because that's all her wardrobe could hope to yield), her mother is always busy, and her step-father always seems a little surprised when she's around, as if he's forgotten she's there. Meghan's real father disappeared when she was younger -- didn't leave, didn't die, just disappeared one day after giving his daughter money for the ice cream truck at the park. The one person who seems to really focus on Meghan is her younger half brother named Ethan; in fact he (well, his stuffed rabbit Flopsy, according to Ethan) appears to be the only one who even remembers it's her birthday. What makes it the worst birthday ever, though, is that she suffers total and complete humiliation at the hands of the hottest guy in school after she was about to tutor him in computer science and instead some insults about him suddenly appeared on the screen, making hot jock furious at Meghan. The thing is, she did nothing to create those comments -- they just appeared, mocking him, and weirdly she thought she had seen some kind of... creature in the computer lab. Readers will see the clues of impending paranormal awareness -- particularly when Ethan, previously sweet if a little scared of things like monsters under the bed or in his closet, suddenly turns vicious and attacks her.

So what's the cause of the trouble? Faeries. And not the Tinkerbell kind, thank goodness. Robbie turns up and saves Meghan from her little brother... only to hint that perhaps she'd be better off forgetting things rather than understanding the truth. Stubbornly, she insists on knowing what's really going on. To start, Robbie isn't exactly Robbie... well, he is, but he also goes by the name Robin Goodfellow... which anyone who's ever been to high school should recognize as an alternate name for Puck, servant of Oberon, the faery king in A Midsummer Night's Dream and, apparently, in the alternate Faeryland realm known as Nevernever. Little brother Ethan? It appears as though he's been kidnapped by faeries and swapped out for a changeling. So Meghan resolves to get her little brother back and, with Puck as her semi-reluctant but always mischievous guide, they set forth.

What follows is an interesting introduction to Nevernever, from the untamed Wyldwood where the rogue fey are basically out to kill you to the Seelie/Summer court, headed up by Titania and Oberon... where more cultured and therefore slyer fey are out to kill you, or at least manipulate you. Once they reach the Summer court, let's just say that no one should be all that surprised when Meghan's better-than-the-average-mortal grasp on dealing with the fey has a rather paternal explanation. Meghan spends a good amount of time wrestling with her disbelief after Oberon declares she's his daughter, and therefore a "half-breed" with fey blood in her, but one glance in a faery mirror reveals her true fey nature. For those unfamiliar with all fey stories, the whole Seelie/Unseelie divide might seem arbitrary, but it is grounded in more traditional lore. It should also be unsurprising that beyond Puck (who the reader can tell is in love with Meghan even if she remains oblivious), there's another dark and brooding young man ready to provide a poor example to teenagers about what actual love and relationships should be.

Before I elaborate on that particular thorny issue, let me say that I did, indeed, enjoy The Iron King, though I didn't think it realized its own potential. The writing seemed somewhat rough in places (mostly when dealing with the passage of time and situations where multiple characters were involved in action), but the ideas behind everything were great. Kagawa could be up to some really fun things with this series and I'm eager to see where things go.

That said, we come to my major issue with the book: the romantic lead, Ash. The youngest son of Queen Mab, ruler of the Unseelie/Winter court, the young Winter prince appears in Twilight fashion as yet another male love interest who does nothing but look disinterested and push Meghan away... which, of course, only means that he's totally in to her and really just wants to love her, despite his insistence that he'll kill her if asked to. Seriously? We can't have one teenage relationship that doesn't have some creepy abusive relationship undertones and isn't totally founded on misunderstanding? On the insistence that the girl in question is somehow not enough to handle him or not acceptable? On catching a glimpse of a soft look that is immediately replaced by a steely resolve? On ice-cold, pale skin and the obsessive need to rake back his dark hair with his fingers? Sigh. I guess what irritates me is that I had hoped for better from this storyline, as Meghan will clearly become powerful in her own right and deserves something that feels a bit more equal. Puck is so bouncy and funny that it's hard to see him as a serious love interest, and so as soon as Ash catches Meghan's eye, we know she's doomed. Ash is clearly the enemy in the beginning, but it doesn't take long before Meghan's made a deal with him and so he's then on her side for just long enough that something could happen. There's also no real reason for them to like each other, beyond the fact that Meghan finds him utterly beautiful. They don't have real conversations, so one is forced to believe that their romance springs from angst and the simple fact that it is a bad idea -- relationships between Summer and Winter fey always end badly and this is only exacerbated by the fact that Ash is the son of the Winter Queen and Meghan is the daughter of the Summer king. The whole "forbidden" thing is the reason their "love" seems to exist, which isn't exactly teaching teenage girls about a good relationship's foundation, nor is it particularly investing the reader in cheering on this baseless passion. I'm not even going to go into the fact that suggesting this is "love" is ridiculous. So will Summer and Winter ever come together or is this love doomed from the start? (I think you know the answer to this one.)

Meghan's immediate love for and obsession with Ash isn't my only issue with the novel, but it's the biggest. I really do appreciate that this novel jumps into faerie lore, as I know there are a few novels about the fey out there, but not as many as other paranormal creatures. Kagawa also weaves in modern ideas here (hence the whole Iron King bit), suggesting that new technological imaginings are spawning different kinds of fey which are deadly to Winter and Summer. Ultimately, though, it's the larger ideas that make me appreciate this novel rather than the bits of execution. I like the overall story and themes (the potential that technological dreams are poisoning the magic of the Nevernever and encroaching on the boundaries of the other kingdoms), but I'm not particularly fond of the characters themselves. Meghan herself can be a little shrill -- I'm not convinced of her intelligence or ability to handle herself. (Sure, the point is always that the girl is supposedly normal and then turns out to save the day, but Meghan just seems lucky... and stubborn.) Puck is odd, but he's supposed to be that. The big reveal of his true nature is pretty awkward and he has a tendency to spout things that feel out of sync with the rest of the book. Granted, they're often quite funny, but it makes him come off as leaps and bounds ahead of all these other jokers that populate the novel. Time moves in odd ways during this book, so you can never really be sure how much time has passed -- granted, this is stated as a trait of Nevernever, but it makes for a rather annoying book when you don't really know exactly how much time Ash and Meghan have been denying their secret longing for the other. All I know is it can't possibly be enough time to justify the term "love" in any sense.

This all might be a bit harsh, but I'm only really harsh on the books that I expect great things from. I went in expecting a really good YA novel and I found several excellent elements, but I also found several disappointing flaws. My hope is that Kagawa grows as a writer and storyteller while she's getting through these novels (and that Meghan doesn't totally devolve into annoying teenage girl with her Ash obsession and this annoying Summer/Winter fey doomed relationship), and as Kagawa ratchets up the complexity, we get better interactions between the characters. I'll definitely keep reading with the secret hope that this series gets better and reaches my initial hopes, but I'll also try to scale back my expectations.

Before I Fall

2011-02-09T21:56:00.003-05:00

Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver is a rather fitting read around Groundhog Day or even February 12th, as that's the date the book focuses on. Before I briefly summarize the premise (in very short detail), I want to note I knew only vague things about Before I Fall prior to reading it; I'd simply been encouraged by multiple people to get going already and jump on the bandwagon. Quite honestly, I think that's the way to go. If you enjoy thoughtful YA lit with a well-developed female narrator where you're destined for a study of relationships with family, friends, and boys and the only "paranormal" element is an odd twist in time, then you will enjoy Lauren Oliver's debut novel. Don't spoil it, just start reading.

For those who need more, here we go. Samantha Kingston dies on February 12th after a fairly average day that includes school, hanging out with her popular friends, and attending a party given at the house of an odd boy that Sam knows has had a crush on her for years. On the way home from the party, she and her friends are in a car accident... but then, she wakes up in her own bed to find that it is once again February 12th. As she repeats the day again and again, each time a bit differently from the time before, she learns more about people around her, takes the time to reach different conclusions, and discovers that even a day is time enough to make important decisions.

Obviously, the reader can couch this in terms like "the YA lit version of the film, Groundhog Day," and the book doesn't deny it -- Sam herself even references the movie early on. As a result, while reading this, I worried for the sustainability of the idea... just what would make this day worth repeating? How would we avoid the potential boredom? Sam and her friends are initially presented as simple, self-involved popular girls (perhaps the "self-involved" bit rather goes without saying in high school)... and the end of the book, they're still self-involved popular girls, but they're far from simple. The book does an excellent job of showing that everyone has their issues and insecurities without totally absolving their poor behavior when it comes to how they treat other students (and even how they treat one another). These girls become fascinating, not necessarily for the justifications given for their actions, but for the fact that even without the small personal traumas that have shaped them, they are genuinely appealing -- the reader understands their pull and how others would want to be part of such a select group. They populate a charmed role in the high school hierarchy and even if you might not really want to be friends with them in real life, one comes to understand that they have friendships just like everyone else.

The book is geared towards an older teen audience, for very limited judgment is given out to things like sex, underage drinking, smoking, suicide, and driving under the influence. Having been rather sheltered and apparently very naive, I'm always a bit surprised at some of the things that I was totally oblivious to during high school (and I went to a Catholic all-girls school, so you know that stuff happened all around). It is, however, given the feel of something that could be a very real high school experience and as such, you credit Oliver with creating (or re-counting, perhaps) such a believable scene. Crazy, yes, but not out of the realm of possibility. Sam learns her lessons awfully quickly (with far greater speed than Bill Murray), but the reader accepts there is a lot of good in her, buried in allegiances to friends rather than a simple clawing desire to be popular. The blossoming love between Sam and a boy is charming and tragic as days start anew and progress is dashed. It's easy to cheer her on and feel deeply conflicted about the ultimate decisions that must be made, not in the sense that one doubts Oliver's direction, but because one quickly realizes that not everything can end well for every single person in the story. The ending is a brave one -- and perhaps made me like Oliver even more than I already did, for going ahead and sticking with something that isn't all that common in popular young adult literature, but I think readers will be pleased in a bittersweet way. One thing is for sure -- Lauren Oliver is a heck of a new writer to watch and I'm sure we'll be getting many fascinating and well-written tales from her for a long time.

Wither

2011-02-06T23:30:00.003-05:00

I knew that Wither was going to be good before I started reading it because publishing friends of mine passed around a single ARC, each reader turning it over to the next in line within a day or two. While certain flaws were discussed, the general consensus was positive and that it was a very different dystopian world from what we'd all been reading... and we read a lot of them. So when my turn came up, I quickly finished what I was already reading and eagerly anticipated the moment of my morning commute when I could start. You should know that I've never really been one to draw things out and savor them; I read Wither in one day. I read through my commute, I read through my lunch break, and I was pleased when the express trains weren't running as it meant I would have more time to sit and read on the trip home... and then I simply kept reading once I arrived. There are a few minor faults that I can find with this novel, but by far the biggest I have with the whole experience is that since this copy of Wither is an ARC, it just means I have to wait that much longer until the sequel comes out and I'm already itching for more.

Many people accurately mention The Handmaid's Tale in their description of this dystopian YA novel. Wither is the first book in the "Chemical Garden Trilogy" by Lauren DeStefano, which is a terrible title for the series, so let's hope it just goes by the Wither Trilogy. It's set in a world around one hundred years in the future from our world now, after the third world war supposedly destroyed all continents save North America. The first generation of genetically "enhanced" people and their descendants have come to understand their terrible and irreversible fate: after the "first generation" (disease-free and healthy with nice long life-spans), every subsequent generation results in girls that die at twenty and boys that die at twenty-five from "the virus." Even at the time of the book, as the first generation is significantly aged, multiple generations have gone by and yet the world has managed to pack a great amount of danger and suffering into a very short timeline.

Sixteen-year-old Rhine lives with her twin brother Rowan in a dilapidated but still bustling New York, where they work whatever jobs they can to survive and barricade themselves into the basement of their home each night to protect themselves against thieves, scrounging orphaned children, and Gatherers. The gray-coated Gatherers snatch girls off the streets to fuel a lucrative kind of "slave" trade -- it feeds girls into brothels, sells them off as wives/breeders for the wealthy, or leaves them dead in ditches if they are unwanted by either market. Rhine and Rowan's parents were first generation scientists, working on finding a vaccine cure for the virus; they were killed when a bomb destroyed their lab and since then, the twins have had only each other.

The novel opens abruptly, dropping the reader right into the thick of the story and filling in the background details as we go. Rhine has been kidnapped by the Gatherers and is selected by a wealthy man as one of three brides -- the rest of the truck of girls brought for his inspection are shot as she's ushered into a limosine... where gas through the vents knock her unconscious. When she comes to, she finds herself in a mansion and the three girls are about to marry a man (Linden) whose current wife/love of his life bears a striking resemblance to Rhine and is slowly dying of the virus. Essentially the whole of the novel takes place within the walls of this mansion, describing the relationships between Rhine, Linden, her sister wives Jenna and Cecily, and the dark, looming figure of Linden's father, Housemaster Vaughn. As a first-generation, Housemaster Vaughn is a scientist, supposedly working night and day on a cure for the virus before it claims his beloved son, but immediately Rhine suspects Vaughn is doing something much darker than what his son believes. Vaughn runs the house and servants scurry around, in fear of him. Rhine has a single attendant (a young girl who seems to work magic in painting on Rhine's make-up), but starts to become friends with a servant named Gabriel. Rhine's sister-wives are each very different, but the three form a kind of family, as they have little choice but to band together. Jenna is eighteen, with a few tragedies in her past, and was captured into this life, but seems to think there are worse places to die, as she knows she will soon. Cecily is only thirteen and is eager to be a bride and please Linden -- and Cecily becomes pregnant almost immediately. The creep factor of Linden knocking up a thirteen-year-old is intense and the sexual politics here are kind of fascinating, as Jenna more-or-less appears to float through everything but Cecily seems jealous whenever Rhine receives attention from their husband. And it's not surprising that, given Rhine's resemblance to Linden's dying (and eventually dead) love, their relationship is complicated and twisted, too. When Linden comes to Rhine's bed, it's usually to sob over his lost first wife; when she quietly sidesteps sexual relations, he accepts it fairly readily and instead just sleeps beside her often. Rhine has difficulties in keeping her emotions about this young man straight -- she despises being trapped, but isn't sure how much Linden knows about the terrible circumstances that brought her there. It also doesn't help that her feelings are developing past friendship for Gabriel -- and keeping the door closed on their conversations could lead to talk among other servants and even Rhine's sister-wives. As she dreams of escape, she confides in Gabriel, who is reluctant to believe that such a plan could succeed. For Rhine, though, who has known freedom, Rhine constantly plans for the day when she can escape the grasp of housemaster Vaughn and return home to her brother. Almost a year passes in the confines of the estate during the course of this novel, a year where Rhine tests the limits and desperately plans to flee this gilded cage, preferably with Gabriel, but more and more the subtler themes make the reader aware that the ties she develops within the mansion to the people there mean she will likely not be happy with simple escape... Rhine will somehow play a role in overthrowing the larger system, or at least find someone who is truly working on a cure for the virus.

There are a whole lot of dystopian novels out there these days, but Wither manages to differentiate itself quite easily from the rest of the bunch. It deals with much darker and complicated topics: polygamy, teenage pregnancy, female sexual slavery, death, scientific experimentation on babies... Yeah, it's intense for young adult literature, and certainly shouldn't be given to too-young-teens. That said, those were the things that made it really fascinating -- maybe that's twisted, but every other dystopian novel out there seems to feature an all-powerful government that makes decisions for its people. In this world, there seems to be little centralized power that affects people, and instead it's a bit of a free-for-all where the wealthy (particularly the still-living first generations) can do whatever they'd like and everyone else has a very hard-scrabble life that is painfully short. Rhine is a strong and interesting character whose relationships are (mostly) never simplified. Everything is allowed to be complicated here, which gives great depth and layers to every interaction.

My only real complaint has to do with Rhine's relationship with Gabriel -- the author falls victim to the impulse to cut through their conversations by indicating they had deep talks that lasted for hours... but the reader doesn't get to see much of those conversations. As a result, we have to accept on faith this growing relationship between them, as opposed to seeing it progress. It also limits our sympathy towards Gabriel -- who we know must be a good guy, but we aren't given much to go on. On the other hand, we get *lots* of complicated conversations with Linden, and as a result, I felt more attached to her twisted-situation husband than I did to Gabriel. The complexities of that relationship clearly drew the attention of the author more than the somewhat boring idea of her growing attached to the nice servant boy. Since the relationship with Gabriel is supposed to be a big deal, I felt frustrated that such a fumble had occurred with him, but otherwise, that was my only real issue with things.

I wasn't thrilled with where the ending put us -- very Hunger Games in the sense that it's not a cliffhanger, but there's still a lot to do for the characters, so future books are clearly indicated by the forward-reaching vision. At least there's that, as I'm definitely excited about the next books in this series and can hardly wait to see what the next installment brings for Rhine, Gabriel, Linden, and the rest. Lauren DeStefano has certainly created an interesting world here, quite different from all the other dystopian worlds on the shelves right now, and if you enjoy YA lit, you should definitely make sure to read Wither.

Kick

2011-02-01T21:53:00.002-05:00

The backstory of this novel is something out of a young bookworm's dream. Thirteen-year-old Ross Workman sent a fan email to his favorite author, Walter Dean Myers, and then Myers wrote back suggesting they collaborate on a book. Kick is the result of that collaboration and it's worth reading if only for the knowledge of how it came to be.

The basic story centers on teenage Kevin Johnson who tried to do something to help a friend and wound up in deep trouble. The son of a cop killed in the line of duty, Kevin is one of the star players on his high school soccer team, but any chance at glory is jeopardized one night when he's found at the wheel of a crashed car, a crying female classmate in the passenger seat, and no story that he's willing to share that can explain any of it. The car belongs to the girl's father and while he decides whether or not to press charges, Sergeant Jerry Brown takes an interest in the case based on the fact that Kevin has no record and his dad used to be on the force. As the real story unfolds, Kevin and Sergeant Brown learn to trust each other and just maybe this means Kevin can salvage his bright future while not betraying the trust of his friend.

Clearly geared towards boys who might not otherwise read unless there's sports or a whiff of trouble, Kick is told from two perspectives passed back and forth -- Kevin's (written by Workman) and Seargeant Brown's (written by Myers). Knowing the background of the novel, it's really quite an interesting experience to see the back-and-forth perspectives, knowing how the two authors collaborated. With years of writing for teens, it was a pretty wonderful move on the part of Myers to reach out to a teen for a fresh voice to spark the young man's career, or at least give him material for a pretty fabulous college application essay. Kick is a good choice from the 12+ boy who might require some sports in his books to make them appealing. The ending is tidy, but it's better to give hope to kids who make a mistake. Another fabulous book from Walter Dean Myers.

Note: I can't claim total subjectivity on this one, so take what you will from this review.

The Orchid Affair

2011-01-30T23:34:00.002-05:00

Here's the thing. If you're at the point where you're reading the SEVENTH of a series in HARDCOVER, you don't really need my review. You're like me; you're going to read it regardless of what the main storyline might be. We've come this far and we've been amused enough with the ride, so we'll continue on.

The Orchid Affair is, indeed, the seventh book in the Pink Carnation series (a count which doesn't include the Christmas intrigue published a few months ago or that little online novella) published by Lauren Willig -- historical romance novelist who found her way to full time writing only after going to Harvard Law (something tells me that when they talk about the many things you can do with your law degree, this might not have been what they had in mind). Willig has certainly published a great deal since The Secret History of the Pink Carnation appeared in 2005, so thank goodness she seems to know exactly what her readers want. The series is loosely gathered around the doings of the Pink Carnation, an English spy, but the Pink Carnation herself is a somewhat elusive character -- only peeking in occasionally while each book focuses on the love lives of two other individuals. Most of the pairs of lovers in question are English, regardless of the country that provides our setting, but The Orchid Affair is unique; rather than featuring Englishfolk running about France while sporting flowery spy names, this installment features a Frenchwoman returning home after spending years in England as a governess... so she can sport a flowery spy name and be planted in the home of a French official. Much less Englishness. And running. At least in the first half. In the end, what she (and her super secret spy boss The Pink Carnation) doesn't quite count on is that the French official in question might not be totally on board with the current government's practices either, which would make them surprising allies in the need to smuggle a French claimant to the throne out of France.

Willig readers know the basic idea of what they'll be getting here. Some ridiculous fun and an eventual happy ending, preferably with a sexy scene or two tossed in... or at least some nice romantic angst. And when the obvious set up is between a secret spy governess and the employer she's spying on, well, there you have it. Laura Grey is, indeed, a governess, so posing as a governess isn't a terribly difficult role for her. Her parents were artists (her mother a poet of some note and her father a well-known sculptor) and while they had many friends in life, when they died in a boating accident, Laura made her own way in life. Now, the thrill of serving as a spy (and having gone through the Selwick Spy School) is a bit muted by the daily duties of teaching children, so thankfully the story does eventually veer off into something much more amusing -- a traveling troupe of actors. Andre Jaouen is her employer, the right-hand man (and cousin by marriage) to the Chief of Police. It's not surprising, therefore, that the Pink Carnation might want someone in his employ to glean any useful bits of information... what Laura eventually discovers, however, is that Andre is assisting the Royalist cause, having grown jaded with what the Revolution has led to. As a result, we get a fresher look at all the post-Revolution politics in France, which provides a welcome perspective in a series where naturally one must worry about the whole "those Frenchies seek him everywhere" storyline could get tired.

On the modern end of things (as each novel does tie together with the modern graduate student Eloise and her blossoming romance with the many-time-great-grandson of one of these flowery spies), we actually are seeing some drama stir up that goes beyond Eloise and Colin. I was a tad disappointed that we get no new information about exactly what Colin might be up to (is he really writing a spy novel or is he, perhaps, taking up the family business of spying?), but we do get a bit of drama as it concerns his family's estate and his mother's husband (who was her husband's nephew... ew) making a bit of a power play in his desire to be head of the family and trump Colin. The trouble here is that we get so little time with this cast that I always find myself wishing for more and not in the good sense, strictly speaking. Certainly it's interesting, but it does feel like we're rather eking along there.

I enjoy Willig's novels because she clearly has fun with the story -- which means that the reader is more likely to have fun reading it. She creates likable characters (often of the bumbling variety) and they get up to ridiculous antics -- and The Orchid Affair one was about par for the course (though it takes a little while to get to the ridiculous antics, as Paris is far too grim and serious for such things, evidently). Sadly, we're getting to the point where Willig has paired off so many people, it seems almost absurd when you come across them... a whole group of perfectly matched couples in charge of espionage operations across the Channel. But I chuckled and read the book in a weekend, so clearly it was all still amusing enough. It wasn't my favorite of her novels by any means -- the best one in the recent past was The Betrayal of the Blood Lily. It was good to get back to the actual center of the series (aka the French Revolution), though, and the French perspective was a nice angle. The Mischief of the Mistletoe introduced a whole crop of younger sisters, so clearly Willig has ample future heroines tucked away, so I'll keep on reading. Reading a Lauren Willig novel is an exceedingly pleasant way to pass a winter's afternoon/evening. Just keep the tea warm and the scones at the ready.

The Winter Storm

2011-01-27T23:31:00.002-05:00

With The Winter Ghosts, Kate Mosse has crafted an eerie tale of wrongs from the past coming to light in an unearthly way... a concept at which she rather excels. Fans of Mosse and her books will be delighted to learn about her latest novel -- but they might feel a touch disappointed when they find that The Winter Ghosts is a much less substantial epic than Labyrinth and Sepulchre. Sure, it certainly counts as a novel in general terms, but in Mosse terms it feels almost like a novella. It has a quick pace, a small cast, and a straightforward story where two lives damaged by wars come together to bring the past into the light of day so each can find a release... and while all of those things could be seen as positive items in one light, they just aren't the things that I want when I look to Kate Mosse and her rich and elaborate historic novels.

Our narrator is Freddie Watson, a young Englishman whose revered older brother died in World War I, leaving Freddie's life empty and his parents' lives even emptier, as they contend with the loss of their heir and their near-constant disappointment in the spare. After scraping by for years, Freddie endured a full on breakdown in his early twenties and now, he's still not quite set to rights, but at least he's not still institutionalized. His parents have died and rather than feel any remorse at their passing, he only feels relief. Now he simply makes by on his grief and simple means -- and The Winter Ghosts opens upon Freddie motoring through France, without an exact course so much as a general idea of touring the region and its castles. A sudden blizzard nearly sends his car careening off a precipice, but he manages to traipse through the wilderness and find a small town that seems quite untouched by the weather that nearly cost him his life. After checking in to a small bed and breakfast, he's invited to the celebrations for a local festival -- to which he eventually decides to go. He doesn't quite read the map correctly, so he trusts his instincts to help him find the way -- and sure enough, he stumbles upon a welcoming-looking building with a festival cheerily buzzing inside. What he finds there in the rough hewn clothing of the locals and the company of a beautiful girl... well, it's more than Freddie could ever imagine finding.

The Winter Ghosts is a decent enough tale, bringing an interesting bit of history to attention, but the fact remains that the reader is always waiting for Freddie to catch up and figure out what's going on. Sure, he doesn't have the book title to clue him in, but it's a very long wait for such a small novel. Freddie is a somewhat sympathetic character, but I quickly grew a bit irritated with his failure to understand what was happening. (I also grew a bit irritated about how belabored a point his grief becomes even early on... such stress on the point was totally unnecessary and only served to irritate me a bit as I wished that we'd move on from the set up and reveal more while other things happened, as opposed to front-loading all our Freddie knowledge. Yes, we get it, George was awesome and Freddie has totally ceded the spotlight of his life to his dead brother. Uh-huh. Can we keep going?) Perhaps we needed a slightly unhinged young fellow because he would assume he was losing his mind as opposed to figuring out that life in a Kate Mosse novel frequently yields centuries-old corpses.

The story rather loses the creepy factor by keeping the reader waiting for the grand revelation -- we got to the party so long ago that now we don't much care any more and when there's nothing else that's going to surprise us in the end. When the main descriptive features of the novel include the word ghosts, tragedy, war, romance... well, I suppose it isn't hard to screw that up, but it's hard to make it dull. The history bits were the most engrossing! (Perhaps not a shocker for history fans, but for those who preferred those other four buzzwords, it might be.) I do always appreciate the fascinating historical details that Kate Mosse digs up and presents to her readers -- perhaps more than anything, it's this sense she has for really interesting history that keeps me coming back to her novels. Alas, The Winter Ghosts probably won't win her any additional fans, but if you treat this as a taste of something to tide you over until her next work, well, then I hope we don't have long to wait.

A Novel Bookstore

2011-01-26T23:35:00.003-05:00

Fans of quality literature and--perhaps more particularly--quality bookstores will undoubtedly be enchanted by Laurence Cossé's A Novel Bookstore. Within its pages, Cossé has created her (and many others') ideal bookstore, entwining its creation with a strange mystery, made more mysterious by the intricate workings of life, love, and what goes in to selecting great novels.

The story opens upon confusing and strange circumstances, where individuals connected in some as-yet-unknown-to-the-reader way have suffered minor attacks upon their persons. The aim appears to have been not to take their lives, but to shatter a piece of what defines them. Eventually, we find our way to the more linear understanding of the novel: a rather unique bookstore sells only good novels and a secret committee of selectors (so secret that even they do not know the other members on the committee) is responsible for submitting titles that comprise the stock. With extensive advertising efforts, the bookstore appears to be quite a success -- until a series of vicious attacks in print, online, and finally on the supposedly-secret committee members shows that clearly not everyone is thrilled with a bookstore that seems to define "good" novels.

Ivan "Van" Georg is a man who does not appear to have made all that much of his life, but he does know good literature... and those who value literature are drawn to him, appreciating his recommendations and the ability to speak with a kindred spirit. After striking up some conversations with a wealthy customer, Francesca Aldo-Valbelli, Van is suddenly enlisted to assist her on an endeavor to open "The Good Novel," a Parisian bookstore where only good novels will be sold. Together, Francesca and Van go about laying plans for the dream bookstore -- lush, elegant and selective, while still fostering a strong sense of community at the store and online. Francesca and Van select eight modern writers as secret committee members and each person is charged with writing down a list of 600 novels. Each year, they will be asked to submit additional titles so that new books might also have a shot at entering the store's stock. These will be the only titles stocked at The Good Novel; though in return, the secret committee members are sworn to silence regarding their involvement.

Francesca goes above and beyond in advertising for the bookstore and immediately it seems to be a hit. Then the grumblings come, which lead to greater issues. Opinion pieces in newspapers asking what right anyone has to exclude certain works from a store. Customers ordering books that the Good Novel does not stock, then failing to pick up the order so the bookstore has to eat the cost. Counter-ads from other bookstores that insist they have books for everyone, not just the elite. Questions buzzing about just who is funding this endeavor. It's hard enough to run a bookstore in the current climate without such bad press (though this buzz doesn't necessarily hurt the sales at the bookstore at first), but then the attacks upon the secret committee members happen. Van and Francesca decide that it's time to come clean with the committee list, go to the police, and recount the whole story. Mixed in to the history of the bookstore (and, indeed, perhaps creating the more emotional, meatier heart of the novel) are the secret histories of Francesca and Van... Francesca cherishing deep grief and hopeless love; Van stumbling in life and passionate about a girl he barely knows.

Readers intrigued thus far should hold firm to that interest, for the beginning is a bit dense. I felt a bit daunted by the sudden onslaught of events, French names, and multitude of characters. I even started writing down a character list -- after all, when the authors go by code names to submit their selections and Cossé feels free to refer to them by either name (and they're all vaguely Frenchy), it can get confusing. About fifty pages in, I finally felt like I had my sea legs and never experienced much confusion after that. If anything, the whole mystery is laid out in a rather clear fashion, so it's quite a pleasant ride... until it somewhat peters out. There are many excellent parts to this novel and the entire middle section is a delight... both on the page and off, for it rather stirs within the reader a number of questions about selectivity and the books we feast upon. As a result, it's almost a shame when the ending doesn't have some large finish, but rather a quiet finale... letting us know that being a mystery was perhaps not its main goal. One hopes that Cossé simply wanted readers to think about their book selections and to wonder the same things she wondered... as the reader certainly isn't treated to a grand reveal or any kind of "justice."

When it concerns a bookshop, of course, I suppose the best we can all hope for in today's day and age is simply that it stays in business. It's a charming read, quite a credit to Europa Press, which is developing quite an impressive collection of titles. In my local bookstore, this publisher has a spot of honor... and, indeed, any publisher that puts forth an ode to bookstore like this certainly would seem to merit it. I highly encourage all and sundry to read A Novel Bookstore, but be prepared to simply appreciate the random complications for their own sake and not expect too much of the mystery itself. Van and Francesca are, after all, quite sufficient at holding one's interest as we learn more about their lives and driving forces. It's a bittersweet tale at the end, but real book lovers know that bittersweet is by no means a bad thing.

Mimi's Dada Catifesto

2011-01-16T21:22:00.001-05:00

Oh dear goodness, this book makes me wish that I knew a bunch of kids who were (a) not too old for picture books and (b) old enough to understand Dadaism. I'm not sure if those are mutually exclusive qualities, but Mimi's Dada Catifesto is an absolutely stunning tribute to this particular art form.

Mimi is a cat living in a top hat (with two cockroaches that live in the brim). She has a pigeon for a friend, and one night, she sees a Dadaist artist and knows she's finally found her human. She tries to show him that she is a kindred spirit in his dadaist movement but he doesn't always realize hairballs left on his doorstep are works of art. The little details are what make this book a true gem. Seriously. The newspaper whiskers might be the best thing ever.

The Hunger Games

2011-01-12T23:32:00.001-05:00

Alright, I get it. I waited for a long time before diving in to this series phenomenon, but I totally get it. It's fast-paced, compelling, exciting, and still has heart. If I had jumped on the bandwagon sooner, I totally would have been one of those people to have my copy of Mockingjay reserved for a midnight pick-up and while I may not have actually worn a mockingjay temporary tattoo, I totally would have asked for one. (I actually found a similar one from HP7 tucked in my copy when I re-read it before the movie release.) I must say, however, that I'm incredibly pleased that for once, I'm not entering a series in the middle and devouring a stack of books, only to impatiently wait for more new releases. At least I had a complete set to tear through in a matter of days -- and even when I started reading, I could tell this would be a book-a-day spree for me.

Sixteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen lives in District 12, where she all but supports her mother and younger sister (Prim, short for Primrose) by illegally hunting in the forest outside the district's fence. Her father died years ago in a coal mining explosion and her mother briefly checked out in her grief before mentally returning to care for her daughters, though Katniss has yet to really forgive her mother for the lapse. This is a post-apocalyptic world and District 12 is located in what was formerly Appalachia, within the country of Panem (formerly North America). The government is concentrated in a central city called the Capitol, which dictates all law to the twelve existing districts. In the history of Panem, an uprising against the government more than seventy years ago resulted in the complete annihilation of District 13 and to prove that the Capitol still has total sway over the lives of every person in every district, the Hunger Games were established.

The Hunger Games are a yearly televised event where twenty-four tributes (a boy and girl from each district, selected by "random" lottery) must fight to the death over the course of a few days or even weeks while simultaneously trying to keep themselves fed and safe from whatever other tricks the arena might have to keep them on their toes. (Each person in the district has their name entered into the lottery when they turn twelve -- and they can choose to take on more chances in exchange for a ration of food to help feed their families.) The sole survivor of each year's Hunger Games will be set for life -- a home, money, fame, and a "job" as coach for the future tributes from their district -- but the games are brutal and while those in the Capitol might cheer and applaud and watch with rapt attention as teenagers fight and die, everyone in the Districts watches because the viewing is compulsory.

This year, when they call the name of the first tribute from District 12, it's Prim. Her first time in the lottery with only one chance of being called... Prim. Almost immediately, Katniss insists on taking Prim's place (which is an option), refusing to let her little sister even be considered. The selected male tribute is named Peeta, the baker's youngest son, and Katniss has had next to no contact with him in the past -- save for one very memorable occasion where she was on the verge of starving and he purposely burned two loaves of bread so he could toss them to her. Now, Katniss knows that she might have to kill the boy with the bread if she hopes to make it home, so she tries her best to put some distance between herself and Peeta, though he remains friendly enough towards her. She wonders if this is his strategy, as others have employed before him -- to come off as harmless until the end when true killing colors are displayed. Katniss and Peeta are taken off to the Capitol where they're given a team of stylists, fed, and play to the cameras. They are paraded around and interviewed -- and even when fighting for their lives within the arena, they still need to concern themselves about "sponsors" that might pay to supply a tribute with a gift within the arena (food, water, medicine, or some such item). Katniss has no idea how she might survive -- until suddenly, an angle for their joint participation is foisted upon her. Katniss has to decide if she can keep up the charade and keep herself alive at the same time.

From page one, this is an incredibly compelling story and there was hardly a moment to breathe as you are swept along with Katniss through her district and to the Capitol, where you're tossed into the games... at which point I somehow managed to read even faster. Katniss is no wilting or pandering heroine and even when being coached for the cameras before the games, her mentor has no idea what angle to work with a girl who clearly despises everyone around her. But she is strong, tough, and unpredictable... with a deep capacity for love (as demonstrated by her immediate selfless act to replace her sister) that she keeps closely guarded. The Hunger Games are no place to become attached to fellow contestants and the reader believes that if anyone is capable of surviving the games through a mixture of skill and cunning, it could very well be this girl from District 12. Peeta, meanwhile, is seen through Katniss's eyes as a threat. Not only might he be playing some kind of angle in his sweet-fellow attitude, but Katniss fears caring about the boy if she'll ultimately end up having to kill him. When only one tribute can remain standing as the victor, Katniss must focus her attention on using her skills to her best advantage and returning home alive.

If you haven't read them yet, you're in for quite a treat. The Hunger Games and its accompanying two books should not be missed.

The Three Weissmanns of Westport

2011-01-11T23:04:00.002-05:00

If you have not read Sense and Sensibility, you would still be able to read The Three Weissmanns of Westport and receive some enjoyment, but I can't quite imagine that it's equaled to those who know its inspiration. Cathleen Schine's adaptation is much more than a modernization (and believe me, I've read a few), to the point where it actually does merit the word "homage" as opposed to an author simply fiddling with the calendar and fashion. The spirit of the novel comes through crystal clear, even when the plotlines deviate from the original, making Schine an author who actually understands Austen's observational wit and develops her own humorous attention to detail in the modern sense.

In Schine's novel, instead of a new widow with an entailment on the estate forcing her and her daughters from their home, Mrs. Betty Weissmann is shocked and surprised when her husband asks for a divorce after nearly fifty years of marriage. Unaware of another (younger) woman in the wings (who works under him at the office), Betty Weissmann and her two grown daughters (named Anne and Miranda, who are not Joseph Weissmann's daughters biologically, but were raised by the man and he looks upon them as his own) immediately insist he get a brain scan, believing a medical issue to be at the root of his request. When the reality sets in, Anne and Miranda realize that it doesn't matter the age at which one becomes a child of divorce, it's heart-wrenching no matter what. Betty copes by speaking of Joseph as though he's already dead, inserting "may he rest in peace" after his name and calling herself a widow. Anne is in her fifties and raised two boys as a single mother (her husband took off early and never had anything to do with his sons after that); she is a librarian, though is quietly noted for running a well-respected series of literary events through her Upper West Side library. Miranda is a famous literary agent whose star is about to explode in scandal as several of her "Awful Authors," are now being unmasked as never having experienced the terrible things their memoirs recount. The ultimate shame (a disapproving look from Oprah on her own show) is cast upon Miranda and she is dealing with the fallout from her career and failing agency while her mother deals with the divorce. As a result, Miranda and Betty think it's a brilliant idea for both sisters to move in with their mother and to take up their cousin's offer of a small seaside bungalow on Long Island. Anne is not quite so convinced, but as the two women together would never be able to budget for themselves (as both Miranda and Betty's assets have frozen due to divorce/bankruptcy), Anne sublets her apartment and the three decamp to Westport.

It turns out their cousin is a bit of a collector of humanity, insisting every stray soul is "like family," so there is no shortage of odd characters to entertain at the cousin's lavish dinners and parties. (This includes his wife's dottering father whose outbursts are enough to surprise any reader into laughter.) While Anne commutes in to work on the train, Miranda decides to take up kayaking as a hobby... resulting in her near drowning and then rescue by Kit, a young actor with a two-year-old-son named Henry staying with an aunt who doesn't particularly like them. As Miranda falls in love with Kit (or is it Henry?), she remains oblivious to the attentions of a somewhat reserved and semi-retired attorney. Anne, meanwhile, has fallen in love with Frederick Barrow, a successful author introduced to her by his sister, the Vice President in Joseph's company (and, incidentally, the woman for whom Joseph has left Betty). Given their sporadic meetings and his children's somewhat jealous demands on his time, Anne and Frederick are hardly together long enough for anything to blossom and Anne remains filled with silent longing.

Those looking for an exact modernization of Sense and Sensibility will be disappointed, as will those who believe any such nonsense that Schine has totally captured the feel of Austen. She does, however, have a clear sympathy and understanding for Austen's work, and by placing her story in present time, is an excellent example of our modern desire for Austen's stories in our lives. Schine, however, does not feel tied to the exact storylines and so changes are made to better fit the lives of her own characters... and perhaps to express a secret question in the hearts of many Austen-lovers as to what if the story had taken a slight turn. (Note that I say "question" and not "desire," as I could never hope that things ended a different way in actual Sense and Sensibility.)

I usually do not really develop intensely clear visual images of characters in books, but for some reason, I had The Three Weissmanns of Westport quite clearly cast -- and almost everyone was the result of having appeared in a prior Jane Austen film adaptation. The impeccable Gemma Jones was very clearly Mrs. Betty Weissmann (part Mrs. Dashwood and part Bridget Jones's mum) and Emma Thompson was a very obvious Anne (though she is a bit young for the Anne/Elinor depicted here). Alan Rickman reprised his Colonel Brandon role as the reserved attorney and Ciaran Hinds came in to play the updated Edward (whose name was Frederick in this novel and so clearly he came over from Persuasion). The spirit of Juliet Stevenson was everywhere and I'm not sure I ever pinned her down entirely (save, perhaps as a narratorial voice, as she deftly handles biting wit so very well). Miranda was the sole character I couldn't quite cast... my mind cast about for a version of Naomi Watts who was a little older, a little less immediately identifiable as every man's dream, and a little more capable of being laughed at.

Ultimately, I can understand purists who seethe at this novel for deviating so much from Sense and Sensibility, but I persist in seeing this as a better-than-average example of a Jane Austen modernization, which shows that Austen's themes are still quite pertinent to today's world. One might argue that in today's world, women were much more dependent and much less capable of making their own way in the world, so the troubles of the Weissmann women hardly compare to the very real dangers facing a widow and her penniless daughters, but there's also a flip side to this when actions within this storyline have harsher consequences than the similar storyline in S&S. Schine hits the mark more than once in exploring her parallel plot and I have to say that I really appreciated Schine's ending as it fit her own characters. (Well, I like the Anne bit at least; the Miranda character was always a bit annoying and her storyline started straying into some somewhat silly territory in my opinion.)

If you enjoyed Sense and Sensibility and think that you can relinquish hold on the exact plot details, then you'll likely appreciate The Three Weissmanns of Westport. Certainly if you're looking to find a decent Austenuation, this is quite a few cuts above the average chick lit modernizations -- it's not simply focused on romance and fluff. There are a few slow bits and one or two rather absurd moments, but Schine's humor carries the story in this exploration of loss, heartbreak, and moving on.

Grave Secret

2011-01-10T23:17:00.002-05:00

Grave Secret is the fourth and final installment in the Harper Connelly Mysteries, written by Charlaine Harris. On the whole, this series has provided interesting, quick reads that I didn't love but I certainly wouldn't dissuade anyone from picking up and reading. Grave Secret focuses on a case that hits home for Harper and Tolliver in unexpected ways. A wealthy Texas ranch woman likes weird and interesting things, and so invites Harper to do a reading at the family cemetery... only to meet with knowledge of events that happened eight years prior that complicates the lives of her and her family. Her father didn't die peacefully, but instead had a snake thrown at him, causing his heart attack... and his caretaker appears to have died from complications following childbirth (though no one seems to have known she was pregnant). Given that she invited a woman who could describe causes of death, I think it's fair to say that this woman had it coming. As did anyone else in the family if they had anything to do with these past events.

Surely this isn't Harper and Tolliver's problem, right? Well, let's just say it plays a greater role in their lives when Tolliver gets shot and Harper finds herself getting death threats, and they have a sneaking suspicion that this case is at the center of their issues. Top it off, they're having their own family complications as Tolliver's dad, Matthew, has gotten out of jail and wants to reconnect with his sons. This filial love doesn't quite extend to Harper, his step-daughter, and there's only a mild interest in his real daughters, adopted by his sister-in-law and her husband. Originally, Harper and Tolliver had been glad to see their half-sisters, but now they're beginning to fear for everyone as a strange tip on a Cameron sighting has Harper confused... and concerned that somehow, they're coming to the end of their search for what happened to her abducted sister (as strangely enough, she was abducted shortly after the events in question for the Texas ranch family).

This is, clearly, the final installment in this series and fans who worry about loose ends shouldn't have too much to fear. All questions are answered by the end of the novel, though not necessarily to intense satisfaction. I can't express surprise, as I realized halfway through the book where the chips would fall, but I am still somewhat disappointed. It is, at least, a somewhat action-packed book, with the shooting at the beginning getting the tension bar set high from the get-go. The ending had a bit of fizzle as we solve one case then move on to deal with another. Very British murder mystery with the long descriptions and accusations. Still, I suppose this particular plotline wasn't going to take Charlaine Harris through multiple sequels and I'm impressed she got to four books instead of three, so that's something. At least the events in this book didn't cause the same discomfort as the events from An Ice Cold Grave, though I think it's safe to say that Tolliver and Harper have the *worst family ever.* I read the whole series in about a week, so if you're looking for something quick to breeze through and you've enjoyed other Charlaine Harris books, this should fit the bill.

An Ice Cold Grave

2011-01-10T23:03:00.002-05:00

For those who were creeped out by anything in Grave Sight or (more likely) Grave Secret, An Ice Cold Grave is not for you. The cover might tip you off, as you realize that there's not just the regular creepy skull, but red flags that suggest multiple points of interest (aka multiple bodies or pieces of bodies). Pretend Charlaine Harris only made it to two books in the series and the third one doesn't exist (and this probably goes for the fourth one, too). For those with a stronger constitution, An Ice Cold Grave will still creep you out, but probably only for the twisted abduction/murder story at the heart of everything as opposed to the Tolliver-Harper stuff.

Harper has been booked in a small North Carolina town to assist the local law enforcement -- over the past few years, several young men have gone missing. The previous sheriff wrote them off as runaways but the current sheriff believes that they might have a serial killer on their hands and with nowhere else to turn, she has reluctantly turned to Harper Connelly and her strange ability to find bodies. And Harper finds them alright... she locates the burial site where more boys than just the ones missing from this town were buried after being raped, tortured, and killed. The sickening facts surrounding the fates of those boys puts the whole town in mourning, but now the sheriff has to find the person responsible... and realize that this might not be the work of one man.

The crime itself is just horrifying. I'm not a squeamish person, but even I read a little quickly through any discussion of the case. This isn't a true crime novel but it's really terrifying to realize this is a possibility in the world. Truly sick individuals are capable of such violence and depravity. I'm also getting a bit sick of the fact that all three books have dealt with dead teens/kids... and sure, adults get tossed in there, too, but they're often not the main focus of the crime and end up dead as a result of learning something dangerous. These are cases where kids are murdered and it's pretty rough, particularly here.

The mystery surrounding the culprit is actually more interesting than the past two books, though not necessarily any more mysterious. For those who are Harris fans from the Sookie Stackhouse books, the romantic storyline will be more what you're used to... in the sense that there are some pretty descriptive sex scenes (the first ones of the series, really). At the end of Grave Secret, Harper realized that she was in love with her step-brother, Tolliver. Note the emphasis on "step" and therefore not related by blood, as this is fairly crucial to understanding that it's not incesty... though the fact that they were partially raised together and have treated each other like siblings for years makes Harper's love all a bit complicated/weird. Lots of people reading these books (along with lots of characters in the stories) would find the very idea of this too weird, but oddly I'm okay with it. I mean, come on, it makes sense... they've been through a lot together (and continue to go through a lot together), so it seems a natural progression that given the option, they would band together in all ways. Harper doesn't want to be co-dependent upon Tolliver (and while Harris goes to lengths to prove that this isn't a weird co-dependent relationship, the reader never quite buys it), but he's always there for her and accepts her for what she is. Of course, Harper is too frightened of losing Tolliver and so resolves to never mention anything... but that never really works, does it? So An Ice Cold Grave deals a lot with Harper's feelings with regard to her brother and quite frankly, it's a welcome distraction from the case.

Despite my discomfort with the case, I thought Harris was more spot-on with her characters in this book than she was with the last, and so I enjoyed this more than Grave Surprise. I'm not sure if it's the subject matter surrounding the characters or what, but this book definitely indicates that this will be a very limited series and even if I didn't know that only four books are out, I would say that all signs here point to a series conclusion happening very soon.

Grave Surprise

2011-01-09T15:20:00.002-05:00

Harper Connelly is back in Grave Surprise, the second in a series written by Charlaine Harris about the lightning-strike-survivor who finds corpses through a strange sixth sense. This time, Harper and her step-brother Tolliver are traveling to Memphis for what's supposedly just a college class demonstration -- though they assume (correctly) that the professor is out to prove they're frauds. They all get a bit more than they bargained for when Harper not only correctly explains the cause of death for every person buried in the small college cemetery (take that, professor), but finds that one additional body has been buried there. The body is that of a little girl who went missing two years prior from Nashville... and the twist comes with the fact that Harper had been hired to find the girl, but met with no success at the time (without a hint as to the body's location, she could never find the girl in the places they searched). Now, nearly two years later, she meets success... in the town where the bereaved family has relocated to try and make a fresh start. While the family can finally have peace, no one thinks these facts add up to a coincidence.

Harper and Tolliver are drawn in to the case, though obviously her peculiar talents are somewhat limited in terms of finding out the who's of things... which makes it helpful when bodies keep showing up as a means of providing clues. The tie here is almost more emotional and it's unsurprising that little things keep popping up to keep Harper in town... not the least of which is yet another fresh body, this time that of the professor originally calling her to Memphis.

I wasn't as thrilled with Grave Surprise as I was with Grave Sight, mostly because I feel it was a transition novel, getting us to a point with character development so that the next book could get interesting (aka the relationship between Tolliver and Harper being weird). You probably should read Grave Sight first before this one, even though I feel like we were treated to a lot of repetition as far as their backgrounds were concerned. The mystery itself was intriguing, but also somewhat predictable in the end, which was a disappointment. Still, it was an amusing enough quick read and if you liked the first, you'll likely still enjoy the second to some degree.

Grave Sight

2011-01-06T23:55:00.003-05:00

Well, I'll say this for Charlaine Harris... she certainly has a very readable style. As one who has kept on reading all the Sookie Stackhouse novels, no matter what weird fairy things happen, I know that Harris has a style that flows very easily and she can usually come up with characters in complicated situations... who aren't all that complicated themselves (or at least not overly so). Here with Grave Sight and the launch of the Harper Connelly Mysteries series, we have another southern female narrator with a weird gift and without much education (though she's got plenty of street-smarts and likes to read) who manages to stir up trouble wherever she goes.

Harper Connelly can find dead people. After surviving a lightning strike as a teenager, Harper found herself able to "feel" dead bodies, the sense manifesting as a kind of buzzing in her mind. Every corpse gives off a tingle, even if it's centuries old, though the feeling grows more intense if the person died more recently. Her way of explaining this is that everyone, particularly those who did not die of natural causes, wants to be found. She can also tell exactly how the person died, often catching a glimpse of their final moments (though this almost never reveals who a killer could be, just the cause of death). She now makes a living off of this ability -- contacted mostly by the families of missing persons who have come to grips with the likely conclusion that their loved one is dead and the remains simply need to be found. Given a bead on where the body could be, Harper can locate it and explain the cause of death. She can't find missing persons (particularly if they're still alive), she can only find death... but she hopes this gives the families of the deceased some closure.

She works with her step-brother Tolliver Lang, who's a few years older than Harper and runs the business end of things -- the schedule, the payments, all of that. While not actually siblings, the two rely pretty heavily on each other (though sometimes Harper wonders what keeps Tolliver around, as she needs him a bit more). They didn't have a terribly easy childhood. Harper at least remembers a time when her family was well-off and whole, when she and her older sister Cameron were like any other middle-class kids without issues. Before their parents divorced. Before her mother married Tolliver's dad (when Tolliver and Harper were teens). Before their parents dissolved their lives in drugs and alcohol, plunging the kids into a life of hiding their home situation from authorities and raising two new half-sisters almost entirely on their own. Tolliver and his brother Mark didn't fall as far as the girls did in terms of social standing, but no one came out well. Mark, as the oldest, escaped the trailer and brought food when he could. Mark and Harper raised the little girls. And then Cameron was taken -- snatched off the road, leaving only her backpack behind and never found. The authorities swooped in and the little girls were given to a strict aunt for adoption. Mark assumed guardianship of Tolliver; Harper was put in foster care. Harper knows that one day, she'll find her sister's body and then they'll finally know at least a part of what happened, but for now, she and Tolliver drive across the country, working as "consultants" and finding the dead loved ones of others.

The particular case that Grave Sight focuses on involves a pair of teenagers -- a boy named Dell who was shot and whose body was located, and his girlfriend named Teenie, who disappeared. Harper has been brought in to find Teenie and perhaps qwell rumors that he killed her before committing suicide (or that she killed him and ran), but even when Harper manages this with relative speed, the case is far from over as she and her brother find themselves stuck in a town that does not want them there... in danger from a killer that has a secret s/he wants no one else to know.

In the end, the killer is obvious, but the road to get there is a perfectly acceptable crime/mystery novel, and the supernatural element of Harper's powers keeps the reader pretty aware of just who's telling the story. Harper seems like a slightly harder version of Sookie. People are frightened of her because of a weird gift; she's been knocked about a bit and so she's more likely to be blunt; and she has her very own indulgent activity (Sookie was suntans, Harper is manicures). AND Harper has dark hair. Clearly it's night and day here, folks. Despite these obviously overwhelming differences, it does take a while to shake the initial image of Miss Stackhouse for a reader who's used to Bon Temps, but eventually one sees enough of a difference in the storylines to pull away from Fangtasia. Tolliver is not as well-drawn as his sister, but he didn't immediately call to mind a counterpart from the other series (he's certainly no Bill or Eric). Their dynamic will clearly be the oddity at the heart of the series -- a brother-and-sister pair that aren't really brother-and-sister and so things could get weird. They both seem to think the other might be better off without this lifestyle so that they could settle down to do the marriage-and-kids thing, but neither is making that move (though Harper does dream of them buying a house together eventually). Perhaps one thing that was missing from this that I thought rather typified a fun Harris novel was a sex scene with odd descriptions or moments. Not that the sex is odd, it's just that sometimes there's a weird moment that makes one pause or even laugh out loud. I still recall Sookie's breasts quivering like puppies wanting to be petted. There is some sex here, but it's not described in any detail. It seemed oddly modest for the woman who once wrote about breasts as small animals.

With Grave Sight, Charlaine Harris has created another interesting character, but I'm not entirely sure if she's up to the task of the usual crime/mystery novelist where plotlines can get repetitive and the characters don't always progress much in their own lives. I think Harris is too interested in her characters to hold to the standard format for long, but I suppose we'll see. She does maintain her very Charlaine Harris sense of humor, which is part of what makes her style so identifiable. A particularly favorite moment of mine occurred during a fight where narrator-Harper said something like "the gun fell from his hand--yay!" before the struggle continued. It lets you know that even if she's creating a crime novel, Harris knows the reader is there for enjoyment and she's enjoying the ride, too.

It's a very fast read and for those Harris fans looking to tide themselves over to the next Sookie book, this first Harper mystery is perfectly satisfying for what it is. If I sound overly critical, let me emphasize again that I thought it was fun and I'll definitely be reading the next one... I'm just not sure if this series will have the same staying power as the Sookie books. If anyone could make a go of it as far as paranormal mystery is concerned, though, it's going to be Ms. Charlaine Harris.

Shades of Milk and Honey

2011-01-01T10:39:00.004-05:00

Well my goodness, what a strange and charming little volume! Shades of Milk and Honey by Mary Robinette Kowal is described as "Pride and Prejudice meets Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell" -- though I would have suggested Sense and Sensibility as the Austen novel in question (if only for the sisters relationship, though other elements clearly owe their foundations to P&P) and the magical element is not nearly as strong in this as in Jonathan Strange. Still, that vague quote will at least clue in a reader to the fact that this is not your ordinary Jane Austen wannabe romantic story. Kowal evidently is quite a Janeite, having thanked the online Jane Austen community in her acknowledgements, and this book could certainly be called an Austenuation, given its tone, character similarities, and occasional spellings. The magical/fantasy element consists of the insertion of "glamour," which I'm sure I will not describe properly, as I'm not sure I even understood it properly. Glamour appears to be a magic pulled from the air that one can manipulate into visual displays -- whether this be the addition of small amounts that would add something extra to an existing item (allow trees in a painting to sway in the wind or give the illusion of light playing against books) or something a bit larger (create an entire theatrical tableau vivant around people, a "glamural" large-scale work, or curtaining off people using folds of glamour so they disappear from view). The thing is, in this world, it doesn't appear as though manipulating glamour is exactly a highly prized skill... at least for men. It seems to be something in the feminine arena, used mostly for improvements in the home, as it doesn't appear to create anything substantial, simply an enhanced visual. There are a few well-regarded artists who work with the medium but, as artists, they are still working at a kind of trade and therefore are a notch above some, but not quite on the level with the usual gentlemen and ladies who do not require a pesky occupation to keep them financially solvent.

Jane Ellsworth is twenty-eight and has almost resigned herself to the life of a spinster... almost. There is still a desperate hope in her heart that despite her age and lack of beauty, she might still make a match and not end her days serving as a tutor to her beautiful younger sister's sure-to-come children. Jane has two things in her favor -- her father has set aside a bit of a dowry for each of his daughters (as he's smart enough to know that they will need this, given that his estate is entailed away) and Jane herself is a somewhat accomplished glamourist. Not that she would own the description as an official title, but even she knows that she can manipulate glamour relatively well and as this talent is appreciated in women to make a home comfortable, to entertain, etc., there is a hope that it enhances her marriageable value. Her younger sister Melody is quite a beauty and beloved by Jane (though the reader rather has to take Jane at her word on Melody's good points, as Melody comes off as a selfish, flighty, and rather vapid creature). Their parents are quite the image of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, though at least Mr. Ellsworth has a bit more sense when it comes to providing for his daughters and keeping them out of trouble as far as that dreaded city of Bath is concerned.

The neighborhood is small, but still has a number of interesting personages within. First, there is Mr. Dunkirk, of whom Jane thinks rather highly, though she also knows her sister feels the same and is immediately inclined to allow her sister the conquest. When his sister Beth comes to visit, Jane develops a fondness for the much younger girl and assists Beth in her basic study of glamour; this quietly delights Mr. Dunkirk, who has a real appreciation for Jane's talents and more than hints that such talents are what truly make a comfortable home. The local elite family is the FitzCameron family, presided over by Lady FitzCameron, a widow with an unmarried daughter... which is why her nephew, Captain Livingston, is in town... a rather dashing and rakish young man in the service of His Majesty's royal navy. Also a guest in the FitzCameron household, we have the standoffish and gruff Mr. Vincent, a noted glamourist who is being employed by Lady FitzCameron to create a large-scale and grand glamural in her home.

While the novel lacked a real Austen-like focus on social commentary and deeper and yet witty observations, Kowal was able to create a heroine who felt quite like a woman who could have existed in an Austen novel, and one who would have merited the high opinion of those sensible souls around her. Jane is quiet and demure, keeping her shrewder thoughts to herself and able to keep confidences (while yet struggling with the question of whether or not to share them with others if only in the best interest of those concerned who might come to harm). She values her sister so highly that she is constantly trying to repair any breaches that occur, though none of them are Jane's fault. Melody is an incredibly annoying chit of a girl, whereas Beth is only a trifle better, if only because she manages to act decently well on a day-to-day basis. Perhaps the more surprising thing (when it concerns comparing Shades of Milk and Honey to any Austen or other Regency novel) is the fact that for all of Jane's concerns about ending a spinster, she actually plays the field a whole lot more than she realizes. The reader will understand pretty quickly who her ideal match would be, but Jane seems to hold two men in high regard for quite some time -- and indeed, even when the real love-match becomes clear, the relationship with the other fellow is not quite closed off (which is, perhaps, a bit more realistic). There's also a rather ridiculous scene filled with galloping horses and duels that feels a bit over-the-top in this particular novel, but perhaps one can forgive it for the sake of fun. It is a pity, though, that there was not more depth to this story beyond the romantic storylines, as I believed Kowal to be quite capable of greater societal observation than was evinced in this volume. The limited mention of how glamour can be used to mask falling fortunes was not quite enough (or at least it didn't ever come to much) and should have merited a greater exploration.

All in all, I would say that Kowal's novel is rather charming, though Regency purists will not be particularly pleased with all this glamour stuff. As I have noted, I do wish that the magical element actually played a bit more of a role in society as something necessary, as opposed to the surface delight that glamour epitomizes. It just doesn't seem to be necessary in the way I would think such an addition would have to be -- but perhaps in future novels of this world (as one always assumes there must be more, nowadays), we'll get more on that subject. Modern readers who can pick up both Georgette Heyer and light fantasy will be able to enjoy Shades of Milk and Honey as a pleasant diversion and I'll be happy to read the next item that comes from Kowal's pen.

Rebecca

2010-12-29T18:19:00.002-05:00

There is a reason why, when you mention Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier to certain people, their eyes light up and their lips purse into an "oooh" before they tell you just how wonderful a book it is... but refuse to go in to anything vaguely plot-specific if you have not yet read it. These people will only say limited things when pressed, opting for phrases like "I don't want to say too much" or the always infuriating "you'll see." At most, they might quote its famous opening line: "Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again." This is usually accompanied by self-satisfied smiles, as one might observe on the cat who got the cream, and then they will sit back to purr over the memory of reading the book now that the discussion is clearly over, for nothing more will be said when it comes to specifics.

Forgive me, then, for my purring, but Rebecca is a reading pleasure that simply must be experienced to be understood. I first read Rebecca in high school after having my first encounter as described above. Because the person in question was a girl I always held in high regard, I allowed her appreciation to push me into picking up the book... and I don't believe I set it down until I had finished. I found it left me breathless as it surged forward with twists that other "suspense" or "mystery" novels look upon with deep, covetous envy. I loved it and joined the legion of "oooh"ers who simply would not say too much.

The downside to sitting in silent appreciation and not discussing the plot of a novel means that it's entirely possible to forget certain details. The horrifying realization that I had actually forgotten the exact ending of Rebecca came upon me a little less than a month ago. Now I realize that perhaps this is to do with the fact that Rebecca's true genius lies in crafting a scene and pervading atmosphere, but I knew the only thing to do was to re-read the book. This is exactly the thing many readers wish for... the chance to read a favorite book again "for the first time," though my reading was always accompanied by a familiarity of tone and scene. Eventually, the facts came back to me and the ending was once again remembered, but having started, there was no way to stop. Only the intervening holidays allowed me to set the book down at all... allowing me the supreme joy of reading the last half while snowed in to my parents' home, a blizzard raging outside that demanded I do nothing except drink tea and turn pages. Who was I to defy the elements?

The very basic storyline concerns an unnamed narrator recounting events that occurred as she was still a very young woman, though just how much time has passed between those events and the telling can't be all that long. Without family or any other means of support, she had taken as job as a companion to a rather boorish American woman and together they were in a hotel on the French Riveria when they met Maxim de Winter, a wealthy English widower who is not terribly interested in grand socializing, particularly with the older American woman, but who takes a quiet though immediate interest in our narrator (even though the reason for this is rather a mystery to her). After two weeks of car rides and luncheons (during which the American woman has been ill), the narrator's employer decides they should leave for New York straight away; with the thought of never seeing Mr. de Winter again in her mind, the narrator impetuously rushes to his room to say goodbye -- and instead, he suggests they marry. After a quick and quiet wedding and an Italian honeymoon, he takes her back to his family's estate, Manderley, and the story really begins as the young narrator struggles with her inadequacies in filling the role of lady of the estate, particularly under the ghost of the first Mrs. de Winter, Rebecca. Maxim almost never speaks of her and the narrator is too scared to raise the issue, though the rather spectral housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, is only too willing to speak of her beloved Rebecca, a charming and beautiful woman who did everything well and was apparently beloved by all. Rebecca was drowned a year earlier in the bay during a squall, but the narrator is always aware of Rebecca's presence in the house and her own inability to live up to such a perfect predecessor.

It's pure, undistilled tension as you really connect with the fears and insecurities of the narrator. It's also filled with twisted, tortured relationships and long, beautiful descriptions of gardens. It's those detailed passages that really capture the emotions coursing through the book -- the loneliness, isolation, fear, and longing. This reading will likely kick off a Daphne du Maurier reading kick on my end... as winter is the perfect time to curl up with something dark and suspenseful.

Seriously, though, it's brilliant.

I don't want to say too much... but you'll see.

Hector and the Search for Happiness

2010-12-23T16:59:00.005-05:00

When dealing with a topic like happiness and a quest to discover how to "achieve" it or to compile a list of lessons that might help others be happy, a sense of whimsy is more than a little appreciated. Thank goodness that Hector and the Search for Happiness has this in spades. Told with a narrative tone befitting a fable for adults, Francois Lelord's novel was originally written in French and is a European best-seller. Now we Americans (who pride ourselves on the whole pursuit of happiness thing, at least in theory) have the ability to learn from Hector and his many lessons as he travels the world to learn what makes us happy.

This is how Gallic Books summarizes this novel:

Hector is a successful young psychiatrist. He’s very good at treating patients in real need of his help. But many people he sees have no health problems: they’re just deeply dissatisfied with their lives. Hector can’t do much for them, and it’s beginning to depress him.

So when a patient tells him he looks in need of a holiday, Hector decides to set off round the world to find out what makes people everywhere happy (and sad), and whether there is such a thing as the secret of true happiness… Narrated with deceptive simplicity, its perceptive observations on happiness offer us the chance to reflect on the contentment we all look for in our own lives.

This is a pretty accurate description of the basic plot, even if it neglects to mention just how amusing things are. I could almost hear Stephen Fry narrating the general story as we went along, that's the kind of tone it struck. Despite Hector's obvious intelligence, he was a little naive as he went along, taking an approach as a child might to studying adults and figuring out what made them tick. I particularly enjoyed an early moment in the book where Hector asks his girlfriend whether she's happy and she starts to cry and asks if he's leaving her. Desperately backpedaling (without any clue as to what he's said wrong), he insists he's simply trying to determine what makes people happy and so he starts keeping a list of truths, most of which actually do apply to just about everyone. The particular amusement that comes with Hector, a successful and intelligent therapist, is the fact that simple facts of life become great truths, and everyone could do well to remember little things when faced with over-complicated situations. He travels from "his own country" to various places, including the country of More (gee, one guess as to what country *this* might be) and notes that people in More aren't any happier because they have more... in fact, they tend to be even less happy than people in other countries where they have less, but might reprioritize their values. It's not that Lelord ever tries to beat us over the head with anything (I imagine that depending upon what each individual reader values, one would notice ample evidence supporting certain things or a lack of focus on others), but instead he seems to phrase these truths about happiness in as abstract a way as possible without being totally inaccessible.

Lelord's small novel will indubitably charm any reader with a sense of humor, as will Hector himself. Genuine and full of a honest openness, Hector and the Search for Happiness will not have you reassessing the things that make you happy, but will probably make you appreciative of the fact that you didn't have to travel all around the world and survive Hector's ordeals to learn his lessons... indeed, you probably know them already, though you may not have distilled them into such simple truths. I might avoid giving this one as a gift to anyone who is trying to figure out just what makes them happy (as Hector comes off as a bit dim and clueless at times, and one would hate to inadvertently imply something to the person on the receiving end, though Hector is always lovable if not always conventionally "moral"), but most literate people will find Hector a charming fellow and well worth the quick read.

The Towers of Trebizond

2010-12-19T14:25:00.000-05:00

"'Take my camel, dear,' said my aunt Dot, as she climbed down from this animal on her return from High Mass."

So begins Rose Macaulay's The Towers of Trebizond, a quietly compelling and incredibly amusing story of various English expats traveling in Turkey. Having completed the novel, I find that it's actually surprising how many elements of the story can be captured in this single opening sentence. The dominant present of aunt Dot, the bestowing of a crazy camel, the question of being beholden to others, the Anglican mission. It might seem like a somewhat strange book for a modern reader, but I must say that I found myself oddly captivated by it.

Laurie is our narrator, a young woman without much direction of her own... and not much money, either. She's traveling with her aunt Dot (who, naturally, foots the bill) and their current focus is Turkey. Aunt Dot is seeking to write a book about Turkey (and indeed, everyone they know these days seems to be writing a book about Turkey) with a focus on the plight of women. Laurie will draw the accompanying illustrations while Dot discusses how miserable these Muslim women must be in their current state. The book, however, is a secondary concern, as Dot's true goal in this expedition is to be an Anglican missionary, converting Muslims to the Church of England (again, with particular focus on women). Father Hugh Chantry-Pigg is also accompanying them on their journey, as Dot feels a priest would be a necessary addition to a missionary group, and while Dot and Father Hugh don't quite see eye-to-eye on everything, they all go forth, arguing about who has to ride the camel (which belongs to Aunt Dot and which might be going slowly insane). Laurie recounts their various travels from city to city, encountering acquaintences and exploring on her own. There's certainly a melancholy air to Laurie, more about which one gradually uncovers as the novel goes on, and there's also a rather interesting view of religion expressed by one who has always had it apart of her life and yet who isn't totally convinced of its necessity or even her place within a church should she wish to believe.

As a bit of an Anglophile, this unconventional and casual (yet quite knowledgeable) discussion of the Church of England is certainly interesting... particularly given how ludicrous the overall missionary role is when clearly is ragtag band will get nowhere with any locals. The really captivating part, though, is how much the narrator is struggling with her own religion. I wouldn't necessarily call this book religious in any way (as it's not trying to persuade the reader to any understanding), but it certainly is an articulate account from one who wants to believe and yet has sincere questions. Even more poignant is Laurie's other major struggle (and it isn't giving anything away to simply note that it is, indeed, romantic in nature). The Towers of Trebizond draws you in and catches you unawares -- suddenly, one is completely wrapped up in this odd little volume, a novel that clearly belongs to another time but still possesses timeless concerns and emotions.

There are incredibly funny bits to it all -- I expected Aunt Dot to be a kind of Auntie Mame and while she is not that, she is still a ridiculously amusing aunt without any intention of being so. The total distrust of foreigners is ratcheted up in these particular places where everyone is suspected of being a spy for everyone else. The camel is a riot -- alternately suffering from insanity and amorous moods -- to the point where one almost laments the fact that transportation these days is not quite so independently minded. Almost. The sudden emergence of random people in strange places is delightful -- indicative of the world becoming smaller and the way particular places become trendy. And any reader can understand the idea of certain types of literature rising up to be all the rage, so the fact that everyone seems to be writing a Turkey book, often at the deliberate expense of others, becomes a fascinating background.

I don't quite know what mood you should be in to pick up this novel for prime enjoyment, but I do hope you select it with an open mind and the desire to simply be absorbed in a story that is (most likely) far beyond your immediate life. Drizzly afternoons with tea (aka something that feels just as English as Laurie) strike me as an excellent setting. As a character, Laurie might not do anything wild and adventurous, but I can assure you that her quiet and deep observations will always stay with me. Indeed, the whole of The Towers of Trebizond will stay with you long after you have finished reading it as you think on its contents and what it is that you would consider your own coveted lands, even if they only live on in memory.

Major Pettigrew's Last Stand

2010-12-18T11:12:00.003-05:00

Major Pettigrew's Last Stand is, without a doubt, the most charming book that I've read all year. Thought-provoking without being pushy, softly complex without being overwhelming. Helen Simonson's delightful novel focuses on a quiet English country village and the complications that result when both small and large changes start to creep in. Edgecombe St. Mary is comprised of named cottages, a Lordly estate, a members-only club, and a reluctance to change how life has been lived for years... so it's a particularly interesting turn of events when one of the members of the community who would be least likely to endorse change winds up involved with a number of minor signs of progress that feel like enormous issues for everyone else.

Major Ernest Pettigrew (retired) is a widower and leads a fairly quiet life where the big event of his week might be a round of golf. While he was born in India (his father, also an army man, was stationed there), Major Pettigrew has lived in Edgecombe St. Mary for most of his life and his family is well-respected in the village. He puts a great deal of stock in both personal and family honor, though that being said, his only family now consists of his son (a London high-flier that his father can hardly relate to) and a small handful of extended relations (his younger brother's family). At the opening of the novel, Major Pettigrew has just received a call alerting him that his younger brother has died of a heart attack, so the Major isn't quite thinking straight when he answers the doorbell, dressed only in his dead wife's tattered housecoat. At the door is Mrs. Ali, the Pakistani woman who runs the village shop where locals can purchase small odds and ends between visits to larger shops in the nearby town. Having only intended to fetch the newspaper money on behalf of the ill paper boy, Mrs. Ali becomes the Major's unlikely caretaker that morning when she assumes charge of the light-headed fellow.

Once given this opportunity to sit and converse, they discover that they share a large number of things in common, including a love of reading, and the Major finds that staging casual run-ins with Mrs. Ali in the weeks that follow is topping his priority list. Well, at least it vies for the top spot with retrieving a family heirloom from his brother's widow (an old and valuable hunting rifle, one of a pair that the two brothers were given by their father on his deathbed, with the intention to reunite them one day). At the funeral for his brother, the Major's son turns up, engaged to an amazon-like American, and giving more than a hint that if they were to sell the two valuable guns now (aka cash in on the son's presumed inheritance early), they'd make a killing. Disappointed in his son's lack of reverence for the guns (that have meant perhaps too much to the Major himself), he stubbornly attempts to forge through with his own hope of simply reuniting them, not fully processing what the other gun must have symbolized to his younger brother (whose family is under the impression was always a bit slighted in favor of the elder). The major struggles to hold on to the things he has cared for in the past, yet they seem to slip away as he spies a very new love growing in his heart and the question of how much the past matters in favor of the future is a question never absolutely stated but certainly implied. So how much can he keep with the old traditions while embracing new opportunities at living his life? Even if the Major is rather old-fashioned by modern standards and is often bemoaning the manners of the young, Major Pettigrew and Mrs. Ali find themselves becoming town gossip... and not in any kind of charitable way. Aside from the obvious mixed-race-couple issues, there's also the fact that she's a shopkeeper (working class, you know) and her dead husband's Pakistani family expect that she'll give up her shop to the newly-arrived nephew. As a result, she'd be absorbed by the husband's family, "taken care of" in a way that essentially requires her to give up her independence. And then there's this issue of the rather surly nephew's somewhat mottled recent-past and his newly appeared love-child. On top of all this, the town itself might be seeing a drastic change as the presence of surveyors suggest the local lord might be selling land to offset the costs of owning a manor house, turning their sleepy town into a snooty estate community and poorer members of the community might be squeezed out. With fascinating religious and racial issues coming to surface, this once-sleepy town is sure to be shaken up... and the Major is quite surprised to find himself on the opposite side from where he's been all his life.

Major Pettigrew jokingly refers to himself as "an old git" when speaking with the younger set, though the reader will surely love him off the bat. His humor is sharp and biting (which one can see might have been a problem as it pertains to raising a somewhat insecure son), though his moments of being flustered at confrontations are quite genuine. He's very real and complicated, struggling to deal with his budding mixed-race relationship, his apparently selfish son, and his finally receiving recognition from the lord of the manor just as the village depends upon him to take up the case against the new construction. He grasps and clings at ideas, flustered as they slip off and he has to reconsider his position on a number of fronts. Simonson creates incredibly real scenes of cringe-worthy awkwardness that anyone can recognize from family politics. A large number of characters in this novel (aside from the Major and Mrs. Ali) are people that the reader would love to smack upside the head, but Simonson is such an excellent writer that even they can sometimes have their redeeming features. Background characters rarely feel one-note, populating this small town with very real prejudices and concerns. So many protagonists pretend to evaluate themselves and change within a novel, but Major Pettigrew's assessment of his own desires and the struggle to reach new understandings are very believable, making him even more lovable as a slightly flawed but clearly well-intentioned man. Mrs. Ali, too, has her own internal struggles that are quite poignant, but the real stand-out character is the Major in this love story for those who thought they were past the age where one could experience such grand emotions.

I know I've given a lot of detail here, so it might be odd for me to note that one of the things I appreciated about Simonson's novel was the fact that every detail seemed just enough and the reader was never overwhelmed with excess. Scenes were painted perfectly and while there is a lot going on in this supposedly-sleepy town, I never felt as though Simonson had lost the thread of a storyline in favor of another. My heart swelled and fell along with the Major and Mrs. Ali... and now that it's available in paperback, I'll be urging many friends to pick it up. I certainly hope you enjoy Major Pettigrew's Last Stand as much as I did -- it's truly a gem for those of us who cling to our romantic notions in a changing and sometimes heartless world.

Ivy and Intrigue

2010-12-15T22:08:00.000-05:00

Are you a Lauren Willig fan? Need a Pink Carnation fix for the holidays beyond The Mischief of the Mistletoe? Check out Ivy and Intrigue: A Very Selwick Christmas, a short and sweet little novella (or perhaps really just a longish short story?) posted on Willig's website that offers a Christmas glimpse at the ones who started it all -- Amy and Richard (along with the modern-day Eloise and Colin). Originally serialized for posting, the story features events that would fall after The Masque of the Black Tulip, but not before The Deception of the Emerald Ring in the whole Pink Carnation chronology. It's only a handful of chapters, following the original couple through a bit of marital miscommunication. While happy on the whole, each one has become increasingly concerned as a result of some small grumblings from the other that running a spy school doesn't have the same thrill as being an actual spy -- and each of them yearn a bit for the old days. Amy is worried that Richard resents her for playing a role in his unmasking as the Purple Gentian and Richard is worried that Amy feels her time in the field was far too short, cut off as a result of marrying him. It's something every nearly-newlywed couple goes through, I suppose... the questioning as to whether or not you've held back your spouse in their spy career.

Needless to say, things will be solved to Pink Carnation satisfaction and along the way, we get to interact with a number of favorite characters. If you missed Amy's not-quite-stealthy-but-still-quite-effective ability to bash people over the head, you'll be quite pleased, indeed. It's short and sweet and a nice little dose of holiday cheer -- though if you're reading The Mischief of the Mistletoe this season, you might hold off and save Ivy and Intrigue for next year's holidays. Just the same, it's always fun to revisit characters (and I feel like I actually remembered who everyone was as a result of Mischief), so fans of the series will certainly be amused.

http://www.laurenwillig.com/diversions/novella/averyselwickchristmasprologue.html

The Imperfectionists

2010-12-10T23:28:00.005-05:00

So... I'm telling you now that my sudden and vehement dislike of Tom Rachman's The Imperfectionists is totally irrational and cannot be defended with any argument that paints me as a level-headed reviewer. Up until approximately five pages from the end of the novel, I would have given this a three-and-a-half-out-of-five star review... not necessarily because I enjoyed every single moment of the novel, but because I thought it was an interesting look at the fascinating and rather endangered industry of newspaper publication.

Then a dog was killed and I'm sorry, but I immediately experienced a flash-back to my six-year-old self, uncontrollably sobbing because a story I was reading started with the drowning of a kitten. It's a horrific, staggering moment and I started to worry that I might actually cry into my scarf, standing on the subway in rush hour, attracting covert glances from other winter-clad commuters, while some child in a stroller would stage whisper, "Mommy, why is that lady crying?" Thankfully, I held it together, but my ability to enjoy any part of the novel had vanished.

My significant other laughed at me when I said this, then realized I was serious, but I yield to you the same points I yielded to him. Yes, I understand that the author didn't actually kill a real-life dog. Yes, I understand that the killing of the dog is supposed to be a horrific and heart-breaking moment (even if it's totally unnecessary). No, the act of killing the dog was not itself described, but rather, simply the fact/means of it stated. But because it was in there at all, my opinion of the book plummeted and I just cannot recommend this to anyone in good conscience. You see what I mean? It doesn't matter for me that up until then, I was thinking mildly positive things about the work. I know this is ludicrous and I know that I can read about people dying without batting an eyelash. Kids can die and I wince (like any normal person), but there's just a line a writer can't cross for each one of us and mine happens to be furry. I'm a terrible, unacceptably biased reviewer and I'm sorry.

The Imperfectionists, aside from being a novel where a dog is murdered, focuses on the employees of an English-language newspaper based out of Rome. The newspaper in the present day is clearly failing, but the employees trudge on, putting out the paper every day under increasing amounts of stress. Told in a series of snapshot stories that each focus on a different person, the stories weave through their lives to show private agonies and professional failures. There's very little happiness here (though perhaps a few small victories are recounted) as we read about the editors, publishers, and reporters that have had their lives changed by the paper. It covers the entire lifespan of the paper -- from its founding after World War II to its modern-day closure -- and while most of the characters live in the present time, there are short glimpses back at the lives of its previous employees.

While reading The Imperfectionists, I found myself recalling Joshua Ferris's And Then We Come to the End, another novel that follows several employees of a company that's going under. Even before the dog incident, I would say I far preferred And Then We Come to the End, and I'm betting that Rachman had read that one. Ferris is a far better writer than Rachman, who I felt relied rather heavily on the emotions stirred simply by the facts of the situation -- the decline of newspapers (which most, if not all, literate people are somewhat saddened by) and job loss. The writing itself seemed on the more positive side of mediocre (inoffensive? passable?), but still made me feel that this novel was overwhelmingly over-rated in the praise I've seen bandied about.

What The Imperfectionists *does* have is the benefit of being set in Rome. Having been in Rome a few months ago, I was pleased by the frequent mentions of specific places and neighborhoods, which allowed me to remember the twisting streets and odious traffic. I was surprised no mention was made of vespas. Given that this is a novel where it's clear things will Not End Well, it's to be expected that the tone will be relatively serious -- though there are several funny moments, even if they are often of the black humor or cringe-worthy variety. These are not happy people, by and large, and the turmoil in their lives both inside and outside of the office reflects this. A large number of tragic things happen in the course of the novel (tragic things are, after all, much more newsworthy than happy things), though they usually consist of what would be private gossip and never something printable (save for a few individual deaths). Children die, relationships are shattered, betrayals are engineered, and tempers are lost... the last item happening practically on every page. There's a pervading sense of loss... lost leads, stories, and profits... lost loves, friends, and children... lost innocence, lost opportunities, and lost dreams... and, of course, lost jobs.

Unless you're the wallowing type, I wouldn't recommend this for anyone who's recently lost a job. Nor would I really recommend this as a great "set in Italy" novel, though I did enjoy the conjuration of the city. And, it might go without saying, I wouldn't recommend this to those who are overly-sensitive to violence against animals. (It really just comes in out of the blue, folks. I'm not this crazy all the time.) If you have none of these problems and you can overlook the so-so writing, then I hope that you enjoy the novel, as it shows a certain amount of promise on the part of Tom Rachman. (Though perhaps I'm thinking that because the novel's already been optioned by Brad Pitt and that certainly can't hurt one's career.) The Imperfectionists inspires thought (even if I can't quite call it "thoughtful") and has glints of wry humor that keep the reader afloat in this portrait of a declining industry... I just wish the loyal, harmless dog would have made it to a really nice farm where he could chase rabbits.

Dracula

2010-12-08T22:17:00.001-05:00

Bram Stoker's Dracula is one of those classics where everyone is familiar with the story, but many people assume they can survive without reading the actual book and simply scrape by with movie adaptations. This is simply not so, my friends. Dracula is a fantastic literary creation and to only be "vaguely" aware of the basic story is to cheat yourself out of a magnificent tale. If you're sick of sparkly vampires, then return to the granddaddy of them all... and he'll show you that real vampires are not covered in glitter, sensitive, or interested in redefining "vegetarian." They're devoid of souls and they are rather intent on killing/stealing your girlfriend.

This is my second reading of Dracula and it was even better than I remember. If you haven't yet had the pleasure, I'll do a very quick summary. The novel is told from several perspectives through a variety of means -- mostly diaries/journals with the occasional letter or telegram tossed in to ratchet up the suspense value. Vampires, beautiful women, blood, death, insanity! It's awesome.

Unlikely as it may sound, it all starts with a business trip. Jonathan Harker is an attorney who has traveled to Transylvania to assist some Count with an international real estate transaction. Sounds fairly boring, right? (Well, aside from the fact that in the late 1800s, any kind of big travel experience is major.) Of course, it's somewhat disconcerting how all these villagers keep crossing themselves when he explains where he's going or they try desperately to dissuade him. Huh. Weird. (http://beatonna.livejournal.com/#entry_140802">See the first Hark, A Vagrant comic here.) Upon arrival at Castle Dracula, Harker is totally unaware that his host is undead; Dracula just seems to keep crazy hours... and there don't seem to be any servants... and they only seem to talk at night... and soon Harker realizes he's a prisoner. Hmmm. Something fishy's going on here. Finally, when Harker sees his host crawling up the side of the castle, his growing suspicions explode into full on freak-out. His journal entry cuts off after he makes an attempt to escape (and after an encounter with three beautiful woman who clearly want to drain him of his blood and perhaps more), so we're left to wonder for a while as to what became of our somewhat dim-witted fellow.

We then switch the focus of our story over to Mina Murray and Lucy Westenra (aside from this small diversion about a ship that arrives with only a dead captain strapped to the helm and a ship's log that suggests something was killing them off one by one... but surely that can't have any play in our main story, can it?). Lucy and Mina write back and forth about their lives and loves. Mina is engaged to Jonathan Harker (and is starting to get concerned when his letters drop off) and Lucy's juggling suitors before receiving three marriages proposals in one day from three friends -- though she accepts the last, Arthur Holmwood. The men remain friends, though Dr. John Seward (who heads up a lunatic asylum) and Mr. Quincey Morris (a brave American) are still in love with Lucy and hover about while Lucy seems to be falling more and more ill. Even a visit from Mina only does Lucy a little good before Mina receives word that Jonathan is in some foreign hospital and she runs to his bedside. Mina, reunited with Jonathan, marries him while abroad (otherwise it wouldn't be seemly, don't you know); meanwhile, the big guns are brought in to figure out Lucy's mystery illness -- Dr. Van Helsing arrives with a crazy theory that he refuses to tell anyone about until it's too late.

Vampires.

Or rather, Dracula. The man (still a man?) himself was on that cursed boat where the crew was picked off one-by-one and now he's on English shores. It's up to Van Helsing, Lucy's grief-stricken suitors, Mina and Jonathan to put a stop to the blood-sucking monster (and Lucy, btw)... but will they be able to succeed without sacrificing yet another of their own?

That's all fairly simplistic, but one of the best parts of this book is watching everyone run around, wondering what could possibly be wrong with Lucy, while the modern reader fights the impulse to shake them all... but of course, how could the characters possibly know? It took this novel to essentially define an entire category of supernatural being so that we would all know the signs. Obviously, Bram Stoker didn't invent vampires, and even Count Dracula himself is based on the

Dracula is one of those books that proves a novel's merit does not always rest in some big reveal. You can know the ending and still have a wonderful experience with just the telling of the story. Every modern reader knows what's going on, and yet the book is still fabulous. It's full of thrills and chills and adventure. The multiple formats allow for perspective shifts that actually add something to the story rather than take away (to the point where it's almost disappointing when everyone is collaborating towards the end so everyone knows what's going on). The female characters are a bit wimpy (except for the lady vampires who nearly ravish Harker) and I find it hard to believe that Mina's excellence is so exemplary that the man fawn over her as they do, but so it goes. It also seemed a bit too easy to dispatch of Dracula the way they did, but I guess any ending would be somewhat unsatisfactory when it ends with the mega-vampire biting the dust. Still, the majority of the novel is a delightful and ridiculous ride. If you haven't read it, you're in for a treat and if you're like me and have read it... well, there's nothing wrong with going back for another bite.

The Mischief of the Mistletoe

2010-12-02T22:23:00.002-05:00

Mischief of the Mistletoe is the latest adventure in the Secret History of the Pink Carnation series and this time, it's a Christmas romance! For those looking for the usual Lauren Willig fare, you'll find that this installment comes up a bit short, though it's still an amusing holiday read. Normally, Willig bounces between the historical love story that occupies a single book and the modern storyline that ties all the books together, but this time we simply have the love story without cuts to modern counterparts. Perhaps to make up for that, we have an intense reliance upon characters featured from previous books (and if you're like me, you might need a cheat sheet to remember who is who) coupled with a return to events from previous books to get another perspective on events that have already unfolded and match up some secondary characters.

Arabella Dempsey is used to being a wallflower... she's used to being passed over and ignored, though it still hurts when the young man who had previously been flirting with her shows his true colors and marries her much-older, wealthy aunt. As Arabella had served as her aunt's companion for years, it was always assumed that the aunt might eventually adopt Arabella and so leave the girl her money -- and while Arabella isn't exactly a London debutante, it would certainly help, given her father's poor health and three younger sisters to care for. With financial and romantic dreams crushed, Arabella makes a hard decision -- she is going to teach. She gets herself a position at Miss Climpson's institution for young ladies and accepts that her social position is getting even lower for it, but whatever helps feed the family, right? Of course, what she doesn't count on is running into Reginald (aka "Turnip") Fitzhugh, a young man whose sister attends Miss Climpson's and who literally knocks into her and drops a Christmas pudding on her foot. He doesn't remember that he's already met (and danced with) Miss Dempsey, and probably wouldn't remember this encounter either, except that she chases after him with the forgotten Christmas pudding... and then she nearly has it stolen from her by some ruffian. Turnip helps Arabella to her feet yet again and when they discover that the muslin wrapping has a secret rendezvous time written in French, well... let's just say that Turnip won't be forgetting Arabella's name now as they make plans to figure out what plan is afoot. While Arabella assumes it's a young lady making plans to meet a lover, Turnip thinks there might be secret spy goings-on (after all, he may not be allowed to spy for the Pink Carnation, but he certainly tries to deflect attention with his outrageous wardrobe). They may not think they're getting any closer to solving the mystery, though they themselves seem to develop a certain closeness... but can social circles be overcome by the magic of Christmas puddings?

It's a cute little romance, but quite honestly, the main storyline doesn't touch on the weird part. The thing is, Arabella's best friend is... Jane Austen. Um... yeah. I understand that Mischief of the Mistletoe is influenced by Austen's unfinished manuscript, The Watsons, but it's a little distracting to have Jane Austen as an actual character. I know, I know, fiction can do all kinds of things, but there's something about using Austen that just isn't cricket. It's one thing to attempt to finish an manuscript, it's another to involve the lady herself. Willig is quite delicate in her treatment of Austen, though, and doesn't really do anything out of character. Most of her meatier dialogue is modeled from her letters, and otherwise she's simply being a good friend to Arabella, engaged more in observation than any direct intervention.

Fans of Willig will be amused at this small diversion and I will give Willig immense credit for the fact that her next real novel will be published in January 2011. So if this felt thin, we don't need to wait long for another new read. Quite impressive, really, considering that while this is certainly shorter than the usual book, it's much more than just a silly side story! So Happy Christmas and enjoy the pudding (or don't, as descriptions of it here hardly make it seem like a truly appealing treat).

Tears of Pearl

2010-11-30T21:26:00.002-05:00

Let me say that the main reason I keep reading Tasha Alexander's books is that I feel she takes particular care with her main character's ability to have complicated emotions. What keeps me coming back for more, quite frankly, is not the mystery part of her plot (which is often a bit coincidental and is always quite complicated -- though that's not always a bad thing). It's only sometimes the historical setting (oddly, I preferred her ability to convey a sense of time and place in her earlier works, whereas here I kept having The Aviary Gate flashbacks with this one). The best part of her novels, as far as I'm concerned, is Lady Emily's ability to struggle with feelings that make her a unique heroine for this particular mystery/romance/historical fiction genre. (Okay, and sure, there's a bit of her hunky love interest, Colin, tossed in there, too.)

The first book in the series, And Only to Deceive, opened on a young widow, Lady Emily Ashton, who barely knew her husband and came to fall in love with him only after his death and her investigation into the circumstances surrounding it. Not only did we have the fact that she was coming to care for him when they could no longer have a real romance, but she became aware of just how much he loved her and yet had never really expressed it. Alexander doesn't shy away from exploring the tangled (and often bittersweet) side of things in Emily's personal life. Thankfully, even though Emily has finally married Colin Hargreaves, things don't simply fade into happily ever after, though Colin himself does fade a bit into the background in this book, which is a bit of a disappointment. Sure, they're completely smitten with each other as they take off for their honeymoon and they repeatedly tumble in to bed, but there's also the fact that in a time without contraception, Emily's independence is somewhat in jeopardy should she become pregnant. Books don't often explore the potentially negative sides of this "blessed" event when it's in a stable and good relationship, but Alexander is aware that things are a bit more complicated than that in real life.

Tears of Pearl is set in lush Constantinople, at the beginning of Emily and Colin's nice, long honeymoon... but the reader shouldn't be all that surprised when they're embroiled in a mystery right off the bat. The storyline is dumped into their laps on the train (a surprisingly abrupt and graceless introduction, which is rather uncharacteristic of Alexander, I thought) and involves a British diplomat with a tragic past and an even more tragic immediate future. He traveled the world with his family in tow until one horrific night when his Turkish wife was murdered and his young daughter kidnapped. He managed to protect his son, Benjamin, but then spent the rest of his life seeking leads in hopes that his daughter, Ceyden, might still be alive (as she was likely sold into slavery). This story comes out in a rush when Colin and Emily sit next to this man, Sir Richard, on the train to Constantinople... only to then have him collapse from an apparent overdose of medication. Unsurprisingly, Colin and Emily (especially Emily) take interest in his situation. He repays their kind attention by getting them invited to an opera performed at the sultan's palace and even though the ending of the opera itself is altered to create a happy ending, the event ends with the murder of a young woman from the harem. Have you guessed who she is? Yep. It's Ceyden, the long-lost daughter, and with harem politics the way they are, it's anybody's guess who did this.

Emily, meanwhile, has actually gotten semi-official approval to work with Colin in situations when a feminine hand is required for his missions... like, say, when someone needs to do some interviews of harem-members. Emily gets wrapped up with several interesting characters (including the mother of the sultan, the sort-of-step-mother of the sultan, a young converted Christian desperate to escape the life of sin in the harem, and a very shifty eunuch) while Colin is off investigating other things that seem more official (read: boring), and so Emily wanders a lot of Constantinople on her own (though she's often accompanied by her honeymoon-crashing friend). During all this wandering, Emily notices that she's particularly prone to nausea while taking boats across the Bosporus. Hmm. Whatever could cause nausea in a woman who's been married a few months?

Emily's lengthy and difficult musings on the possibility of having a child were fascinating, because she was willing to admit that she might not be ready for this. She already enjoys a remarkable amount of freedom for any woman of the time -- but with a baby on the way, surely life would change. It would start with being coddled as a pregnant lady by her friends, family and even her loving husband -- and then she'd most likely have to stay close to home to be with a child. So much for rambling all over the world and assisting Colin on investigations. It's not like Colin is putting this pressure on her (though she sees his suspicious and hopeful glances), but Emily starts panicking about what a baby would change. In short, even if she might eventually want a baby, she doesn't feel ready yet and while this depth might not be uncommon in other genres, it's a unique and humanizing detail here, for a heroine whose life has not been full of easy emotions. In the usual historical mystery series, women always seem so ready for that inevitable child and somehow he/she is integrated into her life and the life of her adventuring husband with ease... or a series ends. Hm.

So even if every bit of the novel wasn't a delight for me, I am at least delighted that Tasha Alexander is one of the few writers these days who is staying true to her characters and allowing them the luxury of exploring complicated emotions. It means that I'll keep marking the paperback release of each of her books and I'll eagerly read to see how Emily grows as a character and tackles interesting issues (and mysteries, too).

Keturah and Lord Death

2010-11-25T17:55:00.001-05:00

My stumbled-upon discovery of Keturah and Lord Death is a prime example of why I appreciate online sites like Goodreads and LibraryThing. Without the suggestion that somehow worked its way into my line of sight, I might never have heard of this gem... and given its title, I certainly wouldn't have picked it up. The first thing you need to do is get over the title, which is dreadful, but once you get to the story itself, you'll be enchanted. Keturah and Lord Death is, essentially, a fairy tale. Written by Martine Leavitt, it opens with a narrator being begged to tell a fireside story that meets all manner of requirements... and so she tells them this, the truest story she's ever told.

Keturah is sixteen years old when she wanders into the woods near her town, following the white hart that the lord of the manor has hunted for many years. It was only curiosity the drove her on, until she realized she was hopelessly lost. After three days without food, water, or sleep, Keturah waits for Lord Death to come to her. He offers her the chance to trade another's life for her own, but she refuses, even when he insists it will hardly matter, as plague will soon decimate her town. Knowing she must somehow save her people, Keturah tells Lord Death a story... a story of a love so pure that it conquers even death. She refuses to tell him the ending unless he lets her live for another day. He agrees and goes one step further -- if during the course of the following day she can discover her true love, a love like that in the story, then he will not claim her life.

The story feels as though it was conjured directly from Grimm's Fairy Tales, where everything has a slightly spooky and yet fascinating air. The added romance element tugs at your heart-strings, yet Leavitt still manages to make this a story about true love where there is still an element of choice. There's also the acknowledgment that one person's happy ending might leave some very broken hearts in its wake. Keturah is a strong heroine, struggling to learn her own desires and help decipher the wishes of those around her while she still has time to help them with their own futures and dreams. Her focus might be on saving the town from the potential plague, but she occasionally trips up in her desire to save herself... terribly human qualities that show she is not some infallible creature, but only one who means well and perhaps has a greater perception of what it means to have life.

The thing that keeps me from giving this book five stars is the fact that I wish Keturah had been able to do a little more on her own when it came to dealing with Lord Death, whether that was manifested in wit beyond her one trick of delaying a story's end, or determining a way to trick Death out of giving up one more thing through a bet or chance. Keturah relied heavily on asking Death for things to add in to their bargains and it would have been nice for there to be a bit more agency on her behalf. She managed to speak up and revitalize the town, but in the end, everything had to bow to Death. The story was suffused with a light eerie quality (so those who dislike spooky stories need not fear this one) and I appreciated the ending, which doesn't tie things with a neat ribbon and yet still leaves one quite satisfied. Keturah and Lord Death is an incredibly fast read, and yet I am immensely grateful that this lovely tale crossed my path.

Firelight

2010-11-21T15:28:00.003-05:00

In this fresh and sensual take on being who you are and following your heart, Firelight is the first YA novel from romance novelist Sophie Jordan. Jacinda is a draki -- descended from dragons and capable of manifesting into human form, but her draki within longs for more flight and freedom than her pride allows. Those Hunters who track dragons do not know about their true nature and ability to shift into human form, which is their race's greatest secret and protection, and yet their way of life is constantly threatened. (Jacinda's own father was likely killed by Hunters, having disappeared years before.) Jacinda is under close watch because she is the first fire-breather in generations and her life has practically been mapped out for her. Slated to mate with the pride leader's son and hopefully breed more fire-breathers, Jacinda is already chafing from the restrictions of pride life when her ability to have any say is threatened after a close-call with hunters nearly has her captured. And she would have been captured, too, if the young hunter who ultimately caught up with her would have given her away, but for some reason he lied and let her go free. The pride will not be so forgiving, though, that she broke the rules and put herself in jeopardy... and Jacinda's mother decides that they should flee rather than let the pride dictate Jacinda's life.

The thing is, it's easier for Jacinda's mother and twin sister to give up life in the pride, even if Jacinda is the one whose life and liberty is most threatened. Her sister, Tamra, never manifested and her mother let her own draki die so Tamra wouldn't feel alone. (Evidently by refusing to manifest or by being in a dry location, one's draki can die and one becomes totally human.) When their mom decides they should settle in a desert, she does so with the knowledge that the climate will help Jacinda's own draki die, but Jacinda is unwilling to let go of what she believes defines her true self. Integrating with human society comes easily to Tamra (and when Jacinda can stop moping, she does notice how she hasn't seen her sister this happy in years), but Jacinda is having trouble enough with the draining climate when she sees him -- Will Rutledge, the boy all the girls in school want who happens to be the young Hunter who let her go free. Immediately her draki stirs and she practically manifests right next to her locker. I don't think it takes deep thought here to realize just how attracted to Will Jacinda is, and Will appears to feel the same, as he is drawn to her like a moth to a flame (no fire-breathing dragon jokes intended).

Naturally, as in all situations where the hunter and the hunted fall for each other, there are complications, but things certainly sizzle between Jacinda and Will. Jacinda is complex (though a bit whiny) and Will is a fairly standard example of the blank-canvas leading man. Thankfully, he gains a little complexity as we go along and the ending of the novel will likely improve upon this, too, as the storyline takes a twist. Jacinda does not wish to betray the secret of her race to Will, even if she's convinced he's different from his family of Hunters, though she isn't the only one with secrets to hold onto. Meanwhile, his cousin suspects Jacinda isn't all she claims... and we can hardly forget the pride who would obviously want the only fire-breathing draki back in their protection. Many folks have noted that there are obvious points that this world set-up shares with werewolf stories (shape-shifting, pack dynamics, etc.) and yet I still enjoyed Jordan's telling.

What I mean is that this may not be the most original storyline (doomed lovers from rival groups, etc.), but a romance novelist would be the first to tell you that as long as you have compelling characters, your readers will be carried along with you. It's certainly the chemistry between Jacinda and Will that keeps you going in Firelight, but the ending leaves readers with a real curiosity to find out if the lovers will be able to overcome the many obstacles to be together. It isn't great literature, but it's great fun. I devoured Firelight in a single day and I imagine any other reader would feel the same compulsion to gobble this down. Jordan's romance instincts will serve her well in the YA genre and this is definitely one of the most sensual (without being explicit) YA novels that I've read in a while.