The Last Olympian

The final Percy Jackson book! Well, maybe. Sort of. I mean, come on... we all saw it coming. The Last Olympian may be the final book in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, but that doesn't mean that Rick Riordan will not continue to produce books that feature Percy, the gods, and Camp Half-Blood. After all, who can argue with this kind of success? And even without picking up the books, one knows that Percy Jackson is aimed towards a younger audience than Harry Potter, so there's less of a question about his survival, despite a fairly scary sounding prophesy. I think that the average reader can reasonably assume that while there's going to be some bloodshed in this book (there's a war going on, after all), ultimately we'll finish up with a fairly intact cast.

It's been a rough year for everyone as things get closer and closer to a war between gods and Titans... and Percy's sixteenth birthday, which could be just as bad. After all, there's that prophesy looming that suggests a child of the Big Three (either Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades) will have a decision to make on which the future of Olympus hangs. At last count, there were only four possible candidates (Percy's half-brother Tyson, a Cyclops, doesn't seem to be eligible) and don't worry, a new child of the Big Three will not suddenly pop up in this book to sacrifice him/herself. Since Thalia joined the Hunters of Artemis (freezing herself forever as an immortal fifteen-year-old), Bianca died, and Nico is still too young, all eyes are on Percy and we open with a week to go before the big day. There will be Titans, monsters, a spy, a kiss or two, a lot of battles, and we finally get to hear the last part of the prophesy that has been kept from Percy. Let's just say that there was actually a good reason for that and things don't look too hopeful for the kid who's got this destiny if they're interpreting it correctly. Ah, but there is the key to it all, right?

If you don't know your Greek mythology by the time you've reached the fifth book in this series, seriously, what's wrong with you? You're making Edith Hamilton cry. For those of you who do know your mythology, then you'll note that history tends to repeat itself and this war is stacking up to look like the original war between gods and Titans. A few key players are switching sides or abstaining, but since we've already read four books about the half-blooded children of the gods, then we all know that the true balance will rest with the demi-gods. Much of this book (and the outcome of the war) reflects on the relationships between half-bloods and their parents, which drives them to side with them or against them. It's not surprising that Riordan (who created the whole Percy Jackson story for his son) is deeply concerned about the relationship between parents and their children, but he's really rested the crux of this war on the way the gods have conducted themselves with their offspring.

Percy is wrapping up the summer with a short trip to the beach, accompanied by his mom, Paul (now his stepdad), and his friend Rachel (the redheaded mortal who can see through the Mist to immortal events). She extends Percy an invitation to come with her family on vacation and asks if she's ever going to get a kiss from Percy -- when he's called away to help destroy the Princess Andromeda, a cruise ship full of monsters and the headquarters of Kronos, the Titan leading the fight against the gods. Kronos looks like Luke these days, haven taken over the body of the half-blood son of Hermes. (Remember that Luke used to be a friend to Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia, but they fear they have lost him entirely to the "dark side" when he ran off to raise Kronos, and now they might be too late to save him.) While Percy and Charlie Beckendorf (a son of Hephaestus) succeed in destroying the cruise ship, Kronos lives and Charlie does not make it out alive. After a brief recuperation time in his father's palace at the bottom of the ocean, where Percy witnesses the underwater war that his father is waging against Oceanus, Percy returns to camp with sad tidings. Charlie's girlfriend Silena (a daughter of Aphrodite) is devastated and Clarisse (a daughter of Ares) tries to keep her friend from losing it, though the children of Ares and the children of Apollo have been feuding over some spoils from a battle. Grover's been MIA for a while, as he's been trying to spread the word that while Pan is dead, it's now up to everyone else to try and protect the Wild. And Annabeth... well, Annabeth is clearly under a lot of stress what with Percy's mortal not-quite-girlfriend and her own feelings for Luke, who was like a (really hot) brother to her. (On the bright side, she's been reading through Daedalus's laptop -- he left it to her when he sacrificed his own life at the end of the last book so the Labyrinth might die with him -- which has all manner of inventions within, and while she's barely cracked the surface, she's learned enough for some new tricks in this book to appear.) Top it all off, there seems to be a spy in the camp who's relaying information to Kronos.

Things are looking pretty desperate and the gods really aren't helping matters. They're off fighting the Titan Typhon, who is slowly making his way to New York, and Zeus refuses to consider that Kronos might be using that as a distraction so Olympus will be unprotected. Poseidon hasn't been helping in the fight against Typhon because he's been dealing with his own battle. Thus, it's up to Percy and his friends to hold down Manhattan and protect Olympus when Kronos shows up early with an army of immortals at his command. In the bid to get the upper hand, Percy decides to take Nico up on a risky plan -- namely, dipping Percy in the River Styx to give him the Achilles heel treatment, rendering him nearly invincible save for one weak spot. Percy realizes that this is what Luke must have done to support Kronos taking over his body. (Throughout the course of the book, we learn more about Luke's family and what drove him to make the choices he did.) While Nico argues with his father, Hades, that they should join the battle on earth, Percy helps rally the half-blood forces, supported by other lesser immortals like dryads, satyrs, and the Hunters of Artemis, led by Thalia. The children of Ares refuse to participate when they claim that they are not given due credit for their battle contributions. They remain at Camp Half-Blood while the others head to the Empire State Building, where Olympus can be accessed from the 600th floor. They must protect Olympus at all costs, or Kronos will be able to destroy the seat of the gods and all of western civilization will crumble with it. The epic battle is brought to Manhattan, fought in the very streets of the city, while the mortals are put under a sleeping spell by Morpheus, who has sided with Kronos. Annabeth learned from Daedalus's laptop that many of the statues in New York are automatons, able to serve as warriors when activated... which makes for some intriguing situations of famous New York statues springing to life to assist in the fray (my favorite was when the lions in front of the New York Library are activated to help destroy a flying pig). Percy and his friends fight on bridges, in Central Park, and in the streets, trying to defeat the enemy and save as few prone mortals as possible.

Riordan strings out the war with a series of battles, resulting in bursts of action and then short periods of conference where everyone tries to figure out what to do next. All of the events take place over the period of about a week, so this might be the most fast-paced of all the Percy Jackson books. While this is to its credit for younger readers, speeding through to the conclusion, older readers might be a bit disappointed with the lack of forethought that is somewhat characteristic of this series. We might have a prophesy that held everything together, but each book comes up with its own events that you can't foresee and even the endings tend to rest on ideas that pop out of nowhere, without much foreshadowing. Ultimately, though, the book is quite enjoyable and young readers in particular should be pleased with the outcome of this book and the series.

From this point on, there will be spoilers. If you don't want to know what happens to Percy and his crew, then stop reading now. This means you, kids. Trust me, you'll enjoy it. As for the adults, I'm sure you can see what's coming.

Unsurprisingly, it all ends happily, though I admit I was hoping that Riordan would make some tough choices and kill off more characters than he did. Rachel has a large role to play, despite only showing up in the third book. She's been having strange visions and even though she goes off with her family on vacation, she convinces her father that she has to return to Manhattan. There, Percy brings Rachel up to the safety of Olympus, where she joins Hestia (the titular last Olympian, left to guard the hearth up in Olympus) and ultimately assumes her destined role as the Oracle of Delphi (which had been cursed by Hades and drove Luke's mom mad when she attempted to assume the position of Oracle). Now that Percy has been dipped in the Styx, he's a fearsome fighter, but it's not always enough. Prometheus, who has sided with Kronos, gives Percy a "gift" -- the jar of Pandora, with Hope trapped inside. He tells Percy that if he decides to release Hope, then Kronos will let Percy and his friends live. Percy tries to keep the jar far away, but is repeatedly tempted by it until he gives it as an offering to Hestia, goddess of the hearth, because Hope thrives best at home.

Lots of demi-gods die but the larger whole is saved repeatedly by last-minute reinforcements. First, it's Chiron leading the Party Ponies -- chapters all across the country have streamed in to assist. Then it's the children of Ares, led by... Silena, daughter of Aphrodite? Silena, feeling useless in battle and desperate to do something to help the cause, returned to Camp Half-Blood; when she was unable to convince Clarisse to lead her cabin into battle, Silena took a cue from Patroclus (think Trojan War, cousin of Achilles). She stole Clarisse's armor, rallied the cabin, and led them into battle. Clarisse then follows them, but like Patroclus, Silena ends up dying. She reveals at the last minute that she was the spy, feeding information to Luke, because he claimed it would save lives. Enraged with the death of her friend, Clarisse single-handedly brings down a terrifying drakon and causes Kronos's army to fall back before the ultimate battle. The final group of reinforcements to help save the day is an army of the dead, led by Nico and Hades (along with his wife, Persephone, and mother-in-law, Demeter). Hades has finally been persuaded by his son that his realm will also be in jeopardy if the Titans win, or perhaps it was simply the irritation of being trapped with his mother-in-law, rambling on about cereal, that drove him above ground.

Rachel foresaw that a child of Ares would have to kill the monster, giving her some credibility, which is why Percy freaks out a bit when she tells him that he is not the hero of the prophesy. Of course, he's very much part of the prophesy -- he is the child of the Big Three who has to make a decision, but he's not the hero that ends up dead. Percy contacts his father, persuading him to abandon the fight against Oceanus to join the other gods in stopping Typhon before he strikes New York. Tyson helps lead the Cyclopes into battle and the Greek gods finally succeed in bringing down the Titan. Grover and the satyrs score a major victory when their nature magic (which, let's face it, we all figure is semi-lame) is able to entrap the Titan Hyperion in a maple tree in Central Park. With all the battles and all the losses, in the end,it's Grover, Annabeth, and Percy who will stand against Kronos. Annabeth tries to appeal to Luke, believing that he's still somewhere inside the body that Kronos has inhabited, and ultimately, she's right. Luke is the hero of the prophesy who will end up dying, fighting against Kronos's occupation of his body. With Percy's choice to give him his blade, Luke kills himself so that Kronos will be destroyed, too.

The gods arrive to find that Kronos has been defeated, but since he is a Titan, he will ultimately regenerate at some point, though that might take ages. They resume their thrones on Olympus (and even the gods who don't have thrones, like Hades, stick around for a bit) and favors are distributed. Tyson is recognized for his service and promoted to be a General in the Olympian army (and he'll also have "a big stick" as his weapon of choice). Grover is awarded a spot on the Council of Cloven Elders and is now the new Lord of the Wild. Annabeth is charged with rebuilding Olympus, fulfilling her dream to create monuments that will survive for eons. And Percy is offered the chance to become an immortal god... which he turns down when he realizes that being frozen at seventeen might not be all it's cracked up to be if it means leaving behind his half-blood friends (and Annabeth in particular). Instead, he uses this chance to make the gods promise that they will always claim their children before they reach thirteen. The war was largely made possible due to the neglect of the gods, whose unclaimed children felt betrayed and ignored. Percy also insists that cabins should be made for all children of the gods, not just the Olympian twelve. The book ends with Annabeth and Percy finally getting a kiss that isn't immediately followed by a battle. Percy starts his sophomore year and Annabeth starts to attend a boarding school in New York so she can better monitor the progress of building in Olympus... and be close to Percy. As Rachel assumes the role of the Oracle, she gives a prophesy... which Apollo declares must be the next Great Prophesy. And while the last one took years to come about... we're left with the feeling that this one might come about a bit sooner.

Riordan really has created a great series that's full of action and adventure... yet hopefully, it will inspire a love of history in a generation of kids. His inventive use of Greek mythology meant that there really was no need to worry about Harry Potter comparisons once things got rolling. I've also got to hand it to Riordan for not shying away from the less savory bits of Greek mythology... his audience is a bit younger, so one wouldn't be too surprised if he sugar-coated a bit of the affairs -- particularly when you're dealing with lots of male gods who couldn't keep it in their togas and that's the of these these half-blood heroes. In this book, we get flashbacks where Hades and Hermes are both seen with the mortal mother of their children, and both gods are shockingly tender and loving to these women. Riordan might have made things a bit easy there for younger readers to show that these didn't appear to be one-night stands. Of course, at the end of the fourth book, when Poseidon showed up for Percy's fifteenth birthday party, things were a bit awkward (after all, Percy's mother's boyfriend was there, too), but overall, there don't seem to be a whole lot of bad feelings towards the mortals who have children with the gods. They sometimes have tragic fates (aka Luke's mom who was driven insane), but usually things seem okay. Well, except for Thalia's mom, who apparently drank a lot and died in a car accident, but aside from that one.

Continuing on the topic of parent-child relationships, I think that might be the most fascinating bit about the series. Riordan conceived of Percy Jackson after he ran out of Greek myths to tell his son, so he came up with modern versions. For a father writing stories that had their beginnings with his son, it's not surprising that the parent-child bond/struggle is prominent. It shows up in practically every bit of motivation. Heroes trying to prove themselves to their parents; half-bloods getting bitter about not being claimed; Percy trying to stay safe for his mortal mother and being such a good son; gods unable to interfere in the fates of their children; the question of what makes a good parent and how one's love can be mistaken; Nico feeling like he and his father have no place amongst the Olympians; Ethan, son of Nemesis, trying to understand what his role is as a child of the goddess of vengeance and balance; Chiron standing up to his father, Kronos; Thalia rejecting her status as a daughter of Zeus to take up a role in Artemis's Hunters; Annabeth struggling with her understanding of "family" after running away from her father and then coming to find Thalia and Luke; Hades finally coming to realize that if nothing else, he agrees with his siblings that Kronos was a terrible father... I could keep going and going. I didn't ever feel like Riordan was trying to lecture me on proper parenting. If anything, Percy lectures the gods a bit on just this topic, but only so far as it extended to recognizing their children and recognizing every half-blood as important, no matter their parentage.

I'll confess that I was a bit disappointed with Percy's refusal of immortality, not for the fact of it, but because it was so obviously done for Annabeth that I felt like I was watching the Disney cartoon of Hercules and we'd get a reprise of "Where I Belong" as Hercules chooses Meg over an immortal life. It's the obvious ending, but somehow, I thought it could be made to be a bit more original. Ah well. It's still charming, if predictable, and one only wonders how Percy will deal with hormones and sex now that he's sixteen and in a stable relationship. He's such a clueless gentleman that it was a bit unrealistic; he might have been a bit confused when it came to Rachel vs. Annabeth at first, but we all knew who would triumph in the end, provided she didn't die. I suppose the kid did have other things to worry about, but really, Riordan might have allowed the gods to sleep around, but there was no touching upon that idea when it came to their half-blooded children. Also on the list of somewhat disappointing things: Pandora's jar. I rather like the Pandora myth and while the jar plays a crucial role, I thought it was underused. Also underused were characters like Achilles and certain Titans. I suppose that Riordan has to keep a few things tucked away if he's going to write another series, though, so perhaps they'll reappear.

Originally, I started reading these books with the excuse that I was reading to screen them for my godson. He's a little young for these books right now, I think, but I'll still pass them along and send him some cash so he can take his mom out to see the first Percy Jackson movie when it comes out soon. Hopefully he'll appreciate the Greek mythology and with the help of his parents, we can get him hooked on history. If nothing else, that's the real value in these books -- Riordan's enthusiasm for the myths is infectious and I hope it inspires a generation of readers to enjoy the stories. If you're looking for a series of books that's enthralling and captivating, but your young reader is just a little too young to appreciate Harry Potter, then I think you've found the right thing to help get them there. While operating at a slighter lower reading level, there's still great depth for the reader who wants it (though that mostly points to the real myths). The characters aren't terribly complicated and these books don't function on the premise that you've got all the clues to figure out the riddle by the end of the book. Usually, the kids are flailing along and stumble upon a solution. Just the same, they're fun and fast-paced. I enjoyed them and if Riordan comes out with another series that features Percy, Annabeth, and their friends... well, if my godson doesn't beat me to them at that point, then I think he can bet that I'll hand them along to him once I'm finished.

The Battle of the Labyrinth

It's nonstop action in The Battle of the Labyrinth, the fourth book in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series. Percy's nearly fifteen, even more of a teenager than before, and still waiting to figure out if he's the one mentioned in the prophesy that might lead to his death when he turns sixteen.

In the first chapter, Percy destroys yet another high school, this time without even enrolling. He might be able to shrug this one off if it wasn't for the fact that it's the school where Mr. Blofis teachers, his mother's boyfriend who pulled some strings to get Percy an invitation. After defeating monster empousai cheerleaders with the help of redheaded mortal Rachel Elizabeth Dare (who Percy met in the last book at Hoover Dam), Percy and a very jealous Annabeth return to Camp Half-Blood just in time to witness Grover's hearing at the Council of Cloven Elders, where he's on trial for spreading rumors that Pan has called to him. He's given a week to prove himself and find Pan (a task that no satyr has been able to do) or his searcher's license will be revoked, but there are many other quests and trials to be taken on, too.

A new swordmaster named Quintus is at Camp Half-Blood, along with his pet hellhound Mrs. O'Leary. Despite his pleasant exterior, though, Percy is warned to keep an eye on this newcomer who might not be what he appears. Nico, son of Hades, is still missing, but Percy keeps getting visions of the young demigod summoning ghosts (with sacrifices of sodas and Happy Meals) in the hopes of communicating with his dead sister, Bianca. The ghost that is helping young Nico, however, may not have the boy's interests at heart -- which is confirmed when they discover that the ghost is Minos. We also learn that the labyrinth, originally created by Daedalus, has expanded to stretch across the United States, and Luke may have found a way through that would enable his army of monsters to explode upon Camp Half-Blood. Annabeth is given the quest to find Daedalus's workshop, acquire Ariadne's string, and convince the inventor (if he's still alive) that he must help them stop Luke from navigating the labyrinth. Annabeth takes Percy, Grover, and Tyson along on her quest, but everyone's quests ultimately come together as the young heroes navigate the twists and turns of the labyrinth... and they find that sometimes, even demigods need the help of a mortal.

There's a bit of tension between Percy and Annabeth as their teenage selves try to figure out just how they feel about the other -- and this gets further complicated when they each have the pain of other loves to deal with, despite their young ages. Annabeth has not yet given up on Luke, who appears to everyone else as completely lost to Kronos. Percy nearly dies and finds himself nursed back to health by Calypso, who offers him the tantalizing prospect of staying with her on her island forever, escaping his prophesy. Grover, too, has acquired a girlfriend -- a dryad named Juniper -- and he manages to complete his quest for Pan, even if the outcome is not what he desired. Even Clarisse, the bullying daughter of Ares, seems to have a love story as she struggles to save one of the half-bloods who turned to side with Luke and Kronos. While in the labyrinth, we meet a variety of new mythological characters. We meet Hera and Hephaestus, along with Briareus (a hundred-handed one), Kampe (a demon/she-dragon), others. I had forgotten that Thalia agreed to become one of Artemis's Hunters, and so I was a bit confused as to why she wasn't in this book at all, but remembered once I finished reading.

Riordan still manages to keep up his momentum and make this fourth book fun (I particularly enjoyed the twist where the Sphinx is no longer posing just one riddle to questers, but rather, insists on a standardized test of meaningless trivia), but this isn't his most delightful book to date. There isn't quite the same amount of playfulness and joking that the other books had, but I'm not sure this is a bad thing. The characters are getting older and things are more dangerous for everyone as we move steadily towards the fifth and final book. This installment ends with a large battle between the forces of Kronos and the demigods at Camp Half-Blood. There's bloodshed and sorrow, but the reader will finish this book with a desperate need to start the fifth. Do yourself a favor and have it ready and waiting.

The Titan's Curse

The Titan's Curse is the third installment in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series, written by Rick Riordan for mythology enthusiasts wishing to tempt children into sharing their passion. If you're interested in book three, that means that it's more than likely that you've read the first two... and let's face it. You're probably like me. If you don't absolutely despise a series, you're going to keep reading, if only to figure out where everything winds up. Do not fear: Percy Jackson and the Olympians continues to be a delight and certainly doesn't feel like a chore as you continue through the books. If you (or your kids... because I guess this is supposed to be for young adults, right?) are even slightly interested in mythology, then Riordan will be right up your alley.

Even more than The Sea of Monsters, this book dives right in to the story without much summary... to the point where it actually felt rather abrupt and I wasn't sure if I had missed something, as there was no familiar re-entry that usually kicks off a series installment. Annabeth (daughter of Athena), Thalia (the daughter of Zeus that was brought back to life at the end of the second book), and Percy have set out to meet Grover the satyr at a military school, where he's found two powerful demigods and needs the help of his friends to bring them back to Camp Half-Blood. Bianca and Nico are a brother-sister pair in a military school and getting them out won't be easy, as the vice principal is a manticore in disguise. In the rescue attempt, things go wrong and Annabeth is lost with the enemy. She's not dead, as originally feared, but she disappears and you just know that whatever else is going on, it will be Percy's mission to retrieve his lost friend who he might be more than a little sweet on.

The main villain in this book (aside from the manticore) is "the General" who has a great deal invested in bringing Kronos back to power. It takes a good part of the book to reveal exactly who "the General" might be, but those who are up on their Greek mythology should be able to guess. At the manticore & the General's command are zombie skeleton warriors, so be prepared for lots of action in this book. We also meet a few new gods, including a very attractive Apollo and the goddess of the hunt, Artemis, who disconcertingly appears as a young girl. Along with Artemis, there are her Hunters -- young women (who need not be half-bloods to join) who swear off men and stay young forever, immortal until they fall in battle or break their oath. Zoe Nightshade is Artemis's lieutenant, clearly a mythological figure of some kind, but that revelation takes a while. Much to her younger brother's displeasure, Bianca accepts Artemis's offer to join her Hunters, feeling as though she needs to take a path that is just her own. When Artemis decides she needs to go solo to track a new and powerful monster (that will play a key role upcoming events), everyone else heads back to camp. Once there, the Oracle has a prophesy so compelling that it leaves its attic to deliver it: five must go on a quest to save Artemis before the Winter Solstice, but one will be lost and another will die by a father's hand. Even though Percy isn't on the initial list of questers, there's no way that our hero pass up this opportunity, particularly when he knows that Annabeth will be somewhere close by. The quest takes the heroes to San Francisco, with several stops in between, and lots of questions are still unanswered by the end of the book. Riordan relies a bit on a deus ex machina in this one, but we'll let it slide. This is the darkest book yet, though, with truly frightening villains and actual bloodshed/death.

For me, The Titan's Curse didn't seem to have the parts of Riordan's storytelling that I enjoy most -- namely, the complicated nature of the gods and the implications of being involved in an immortal world for mortal heroes. We do have some intense situations here where individuals must make some very tough choices. At one point towards the end, in a battle, Riordan depicts one hero's resolve to kill another person. Lots of issues with parents still abound (these are teenagers, after all) and so the part of the prophesy that talks about a hero dying by a father's hand is quite interesting. Unfortunately, Percy doesn't seem to really spend a lot of time thinking on this one (well, we know it probably isn't Percy, seeing as there are several books left), but it still would have been an interesting bit of confusion for Percy if he were to have considered circumstances where his own demise would be brought about by Poseidon. Otherwise, Riordan's humor is quite liberally used in this book (Apollo spouts terrible haikus, Percy's pegasus Blackjack is rather casual in his conversation, and so on), as even Riordan knows that this is quite a transition book as we prepare for bigger things. It was disappointing to not have Annabeth along for most of the ride, but allowing the heroes to experience real pain and the force of immortal struggles bearing down on their shoulders... well, it shows that Riordan isn't simply trying to create another hero series, but rather, he's fully committed to his world and the implications of Greek mythology in it.

The Sea of Monsters (Percy Jackson & the Olympians Book #2)

The Sea of Monsters is the second book in the "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" series, written by Rick Riordan for children grades 5-9. The series focuses on Perseus (Percy) Jackson, the son of Poseidon who is destined to be a hero... though what exactly that destiny entails isn't quite clear. After introducing us to a world where the Olympian gods are real and their half-blooded children band together to fight monsters and general evil, The Sea of Monsters feels surprisingly thin (though the positive side of this is that the plot moves quite quickly) as Percy and his friends focus on a new quest. Sure, there's still a lot to learn for Percy (and the reader) about the intricacies of this existence where they can influence both mortal and immortal affairs, but Riordan assumes we've read the first book and there's not too much time spent bringing people up to speed.

Percy is now thirteen and just about to make it out of the first school in a long time where he hasn't been expelled. It's the last day of class and all Percy needs to do is get through the day before he can take off for Camp Half-Blood and rejoin his other demi-god friends. The only real friend Percy has made at this school is Tyson, a homeless boy that the school has taken on as a community service project. Even though he's incredibly tall, Tyson is quite a softie and Percy has to protect him from being picked on by bullies at school. After an incident at the school, though, Percy learns that Tyson is actually a Cyclops... and his half-brother.

Back at Camp Half-Blood, things are not going well. Thalia's Tree, which sits on the border of the camp, was created when Thalia, a daughter of Zeus, forfeited her life to save her friends. Zeus turned her into a tree that protects the magical border around the camp... but now the tree has been poisoned by Luke (a son of Hermes who turned evil at the end of the first book) and the camp is in danger of being overrun by monsters. Chiron (the centaur) was blamed for letting the tree be poisoned and has been fired from his post as activities director at camp; he's been replaced by Tantalus, an immortal who tried to feed his son to the gods and wound up in eternal torment -- temptation without satisfaction. In the book, this is primarily depicted with a humorous twist as Tantalus tries to grab at cheeseburgers that zip out of his reach. Tantalus doesn't even try to mask his dislike for Percy, at a height when Percy gets blamed for an attack on campers during a chariot race.

The only thing that can save Thalia's Tree (and hence, the camp) is the Golden Fleece... which is coincidental, as Percy's been having dreams about his friend Grover (a satyr) who went searching for Pan and is now being held captive by a Cyclops that possesses the Fleece. Tantalus decides that Clarisse, a daughter of Ares, is the perfect person to lead the quest to retrieve the Fleece, which means Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson have to go renegade to help save Grover (who seems to have tricked the nearly-blind Cyclops into thinking he's a lady Cyclops and is pulling a Penelope by weaving and unraveling part of his wedding trousseau as he bides time and waits for Percy to rescue him). Hermes makes an appearance to assist Percy, hoping that Percy might be able to save his son, Luke, from the dark side. Percy learns a bit more about some powers that he's inherited from his father as we travel to the Sea of Monsters, which is the sea that every hero has had to pass through. Like Olympus, its location changes with the flame of western civilization and is now known to mortals as the Bermuda Triangle.

By far, the most interesting part of this book is not the plotline, though I'm sure that's what the kids will focus on. The relationship between Tyson and Percy and Percy's need to deal with what Tyson's presence in his life means both for himself and his relationship with his father... well, it's pretty complicated and awesome. Riordan clearly enjoys the ridiculous mess that is the Olympian family tree and doesn't feel a need to untangle things (though he tries to step things out for the kids). Tyson's existence means that if Percy thought he was super special by having a mother that Poseidon just couldn't resist and so the only affair he's had since the Big Three swore that oath to stop fathering heroes... well... now Percy has this half-brother who isn't an hero, but definitely complicates his family tree. Tyson, as a young Cyclops, is not bright and his biggest asset is his strength. Percy is ashamed of him in the beginning, despite his fondness for Tyson. And when one thinks of what Tyson had to endure as a young, homeless Cyclops... let's just say it's easy to be angry at the gods for abandoning their children to such hard roads. Sensitive children will certainly cry "unfair!" at certain things, but such is the world of mythology and such is the world that Riordan has created here. Ultimately, Percy has to come to accept that he needs Tyson just as much as Tyson needs Percy. Accepting his father, on the other hand... it seems like this is a lifelong issue for demi-gods and immortals alike.

While it's not quite as fun as the first, you can expect The Sea of Monsters to be an amusing and fast-paced sequel to The Lightning Thief. Riordan still manages to include allusions to many different myths, but not nearly as much seems to happen in this book as it did in the first. We're just on book two of five, though, so I suppose we can forgive him for pacing himself. Fans of the series will be pleased and the ending presents a nice new twist that promises to make the next few books quite interesting indeed.

The Woman in White

The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins, is a fantastic and wonderfully suspenseful novel, originally published as a whole manuscript in 1860, though it was serialized for publication from 1859-1860. It is considered to be one of the first mystery novels and a leader in the detective novel genre. There are Gothic themes running throughout to make things spooky and eerie, but ultimately we're dealing with a novel where all the characters are flesh and blood and there are sound explanations for everything. In his introduction, Collins posits that this might be one of the first novels of its kind, written using multiple narrators. Wikipedia calls this an epistolary novel, though I'm not entirely sure I'd use such categorization. The novel is constructed using accounts of events from various people, which alludes more to Collins's legal background. Collins writes in the introduction that "the story here presented will be told by more than one pen, as the story of an offence against the laws is told in Court by more than one witness."

The basic plot (though I honestly think you should just dive in without much knowledge) focuses on strange appearances, forbidden love, inheritances, marrying for money, murder plots, spies, asylums, forgeries, secrets, and revenge. Seriously, how much more do you need to know? Just start reading! My friend described this book as being full of "the best parts of Dickens" and that's somewhat apt. Somehow, one is constantly propelled through this novel without Collins dropping the ball. Every now and then, when I came up for air after burying myself in this book for hours, I would wonder how Collins could possibly keep such momentum. I'm still not sure how he managed, but I never felt as though things were dragging along even for a moment.

Walter Hartright has taken a position as a drawing teacher to two young ladies at the country home Limmeridge House in Cumberland, owned by a Mr. Farlie. Before leaving London for Limmeridge House, Walter encounters a strange young woman in white at a very late hour, alone and practically materializing from thin air. Walter offers to escort her to a taxi or fly, which she accepts, and he has the feeling that she thinks she is being pursued by someone. This might all be strange enough, except that when he makes conversation and mentions his upcoming trip to Cumberland, the woman in white says that she was once happy there -- at Limmeridge! She particularly mentions the late Mrs. Fairlie, but Walter can get little else out of her. After seeing her safely into a fly, Walter overhears two men ask a police officer if he has seen a woman who matched the description of the woman in white -- and when the policeman asks why they are seeking her, the men respond that she has just escaped from their asylum! After such a strange evening, Walter leaves London and makes his way to his new position. He first meets Marian Halcombe, who at appears to be a stunning figure of a woman initially... yet turns around and reveals that she is quite ugly, though Walter does ultimately find her to be charming, clever, and devoted to the well-being of her half-sister, Laura. Laura Fairlie is the heiress of Limmeridge House, and the niece of Mr. Fairlie. She is fair and beautiful, quiet and demure (everything that might have seemed perfect in a woman then... and makes the modern female reader wish to bash her over the head).

While Laura might be the beautiful one (and everyone can see that Walter is besotted with her from first glance), Walter truly seems to befriend Marian. He tells her about his encounter with the woman in white and Marian looks through her late mother's letters to see if they can identify the woman... which they manage to do by a detail that Walter did not identify until Marian reads it aloud from the letter -- that the woman in white (Anne Catherick) and Laura Fairlie look almost exactly alike! Such coincidences! Of course, this seems to fall a bit to the side when Walter's overpowering love for Laura becomes an issue. He's perfectly aware that the difference in their stations renders it an impossible match and this is confirmed when Marian, who has observed their growing affection for each other, counsels Walter to leave Limmeridge House for his own sake as well as Laura's. Laura has been engaged for the past two years to a Sir Percival Glyde, a match sanctioned by Laura's father before he died and for that reason only, Laura would never call it off. Never fear, dear reader... our main plotline is not "let's get Walter and Laura together." We watch Laura marry Sir Percival despite deep misgivings, we come back to the woman in white, we learn more about why we just don't like that Sir Percival cat, and we get introduced to some pretty awesome foreign characters. I could keep talking about the plot, but I won't. This is all just the beginning. It gets good. Go read it.

Not to bask in my own awesomeness, but I selected this book for my book club and I'm quite pleased with myself. I devoured it in a handful of days and believe that I'll spend a great deal of time thinking about this one -- long after my book club has gone over it with a fine-toothed comb. Marian Halcombe is a brilliant character and Count Fosco is ridiculous and amazing. There was a moment in the book where I knew what was coming, and then Collins followed this up with something so brilliant that I gasped out loud. I'm sure that I could be more eloquent about my praise for this book, but perhaps I'll update this review once I have my book club meeting, so I can incorporate some of that insight here, too.

The Betrayal of the Blood Lily

Huzzah! I'm pleased to say that I think The Betrayal of the Blood Lily is Lauren Willig's finest yet! Perhaps my enthusiasm overtakes me, as The Secret History of the Pink Carnation might still claim the number one spot as the origin of all, but I was so delighted with Willig's latest novel that I devoured it in a single sitting, knowing with every turn of the page that Willig was in top form.

This is the sixth in the Pink Carnation series and to describe it, I steal a description from the modern narrator, Louise: "It's got dash. It's got swash. It's got buckle." For those unfamiliar, the books always have two storylines going. The first is modern, dealing with grad student Eloise and her research into aristocratic and independent spies post-French Revolution. The second takes place during the time Eloise studies, following those wrapped up in the plots and intrigues of those spies and focusing on a single couple who will inevitably have a happy ending. In Blood Lily, things remain fairly tame in the modern day, where Eloise is still dating Colin, a descendant of the spies in her dissertation. Eloise harbors some faint suspicions that the "spy novel" Colin is working on is just a cover for his real job as an actual spy, but she frequently dismisses this as fancy. The more pressing issue this time around is Colin's sister, Serena, who's very sweet but has always been a bit of a mess (a beautiful mess, yet, but a mess just the same). With Colin taking such good care of Serena, it means that Eloise rarely gets him all to herself, and so Eloise has been determined to set Serena up with someone. Anyone. She and Colin clash over whether Eloise is pushing too hard and Eloise learns a bit more about Colin's complicated family, but otherwise, things are fine in modern day England.

As for the past? Well, our heroine this time is Miss Penelope Deveraux, a fiery redhead with a hatred for being told what to do and a fancy for dark alcoves. She had been repeatedly warned that her somewhat risque behavior would get her in trouble... and indeed, it did in The Temptation of the Night Jasmine. She committed a bit of an indiscretion with Lord Frederick Staines, a second son who was quite a cad anyway... and now they've both been bullied into making a match of it to save Pen's reputation. Even this isn't enough to get the scandal to totally die down, really, so they've been sent off to India, where Freddy will be a special envoy to the Nizam of Hyderabad (aka glorified messengerboy that people currently in India will see as more of a hindrance than a help). Freddy and Pen (who are definitely not "in love" but certainly might be called "in lust" at the beginning of this novel) are somewhat unprepared for the truth of the situation in Hyderabad, which is a great deal more unsettled than expected. English Empire is not as secure as everyone might believe; a number of insurrections and problems with the locals and the French have led to some complications in the region which make everyone suspicious of everyone... with good reason. Merry old England is rife with flowery spies and it turns out that India is no different -- here, we'll find the Marigold has been at work in the region, potentially connected to a missing weapons delivery. Unsurprisingly, Penelope is far more adept at picking up on this information than her husband, who is more interested in women and card games. They make the acquaintance of Captain Alex Reid, a dashing young man with close ties to India that has been sent to escort them from Calcutta to Hyderabad. While Alex has little time to play chaperone to these newcomers, he's also fairly interested in making sure that Freddy does not make a muck of current plans to smooth things over in the region. Freddy is exactly what Alex expected but Penelope... well, Penelope turns out to be quite different from the usual pampered lady. She swims, shoots, and rides better than most everyone, and that's just the beginning of her many talents. In turn, Pen finds that Alex is full of mysteries, too, as questions arise concerning his family and complicated Indian politics.

What delighted me about this book is that I find Willig has returned to her two great strengths. Number one: by setting this book in India, the reader is reminded of Willig's fantastic ability to describe location and time period with exquisite depth and detail. After five books in England, Willig had somewhat exhausted her resources in describing the ton, court politics, and country homes. It wasn't her fault, she was still doing a great job, it's just that one forgot to notice. Here, it's like a breath of fresh air to find ourselves in India, where she has all kinds of new material to draw upon. She clearly revels in historical detail and the reader catches this enthusiasm. In addition, the political situation in India has the potential to be overwhelming, but Willig holds firmly to our hand to lead us through. Number two: this is a truly playful romp, complete with romance and sex. You might not think this is a big deal, but it's been a while that we've gotten more than just some steamy kisses and smoldering looks in a Willig novel. I've been worried that she was getting more conservative with her sex scenes... which aren't the sole reason for reading these books, clearly, but one of the first things I appreciated about Willig was her ability to let go and have fun, no matter how ridiculous things might be. For goodness sake, in Pink Carnation, a gentleman's fingers do some fancy work on a lady in a boat on the Thames! After that, she seemed to back away from the crazy scenes and it really did feel like she was reigning herself in. When I was reading Night Jasmine with the incredibly virtuous main couple, I somehow knew that the scandalous, redheaded Penelope would be our next heroine and she would not disappoint!

I can't say that any details of the story much surprised me, but I don't need to be surprised when the story is being told well and I enjoy the characters. Pen and Alex have their predictable misunderstandings and miscommunications. Penelope is quite easily jaded considering her limited experience, even if she was quite familiar with dark alcoves. Alex is a bit too perfect, but Willig men tend to have this "flaw." It's fiction, after all, and when we're 95% sure of a happy ending at the end of each book, we all must make some sacrifices. There was one particular phrase that Willig used which I didn't like the first time around and liked even less when it was used again, but otherwise I thought that Willig is certainly benefiting from being a full-time writer. She clearly had the time to do her research and develop strong characters.

If you've visited laurenwillig.com, you might notice that she touches upon the issue that despite the title, there is no Blood Lily in this book. A Marigold, a Moonflower, and some frangipani, but no Blood Lily. She attributes this to the fact that originally, the title was supposed to be The Something Something of the Something Marigold, but since Marigolds aren't quite sexy, she made a last minute plea to readers on her site to help her brainstorm... and the Blood Lily was settled upon as being somewhat indicative of redheaded Penelope.

Now, I must sit and wait another year for the next installment in this fresh series. Thank goodness Willig is fairly reliable in turning out a book every year! I haven't heard who might be the focus of the next novel... perhaps one of Alex's sisters? No matter what, I'll impatiently wait, trusting that Willig will turn out another delightful novel full of dash, swash, and buckle.

Check out laurenwillig.com for more information on the series and visit http://www.laurenwillig.com/books/bloodlily.html for the whole first chapter of The Betrayal of the Blood Lily.

Stranger Things Happen

If you suspect that you might be an ordinary person, one without creativity or imagination... well, then Stranger Things Happen might not appeal to you to begin with, but it certainly won't make you feel any better about your imaginative state. Even if you think you are a fairly creative person, it's hard to believe that you could come close the level of the fantastic and fascinating that Kelly Link achieves in these eleven short stories. A strange combination of fantasy and very modern reality, Link's collection features stories that don't necessarily always work perfectly, but are certainly memorable.

As far as the collection goes, these stories are all linked by undercurrents of fairy tales and mythology, an ethereal tone where the reader understands that not all is as it seems, and the fact that in each of these stories, very real characters (in perhaps not so realistic settings) deal with personal pain and try to somehow make a connection to someone else. On the back cover of my paperback, Andrew O'Hehir is quoted from his NY Times Book Review article as saying that Link's stories "aren't linked to one another, at least not in the sense that they share settings or characters, but they all draw water from the same clear, cold, deep well." I find that to be a profoundly excellent way of explaining the feeling that one is left with at the end of the collection. Not quite ghost stories in a sense of horror, but certainly some blend of Gothic fantasy that yield goosebumps and an eerie atmosphere.

Link is a good example of the post-modern storyteller struggling to find a narrative structure that works for each tale, and as a result, few of these pieces are straightforward narratives. I tended to find that the more straightforward stories (well, as straightforward as Link gets) are the ones that I liked a bit more -- I was able to spend more time thinking about the characters and events and less in decoding her narrative intentions/figuring what she was trying to do by mixing things up so completely. (I'm mostly thinking about "The Girl Detective" as I say that, the last in the collection and, for me, the least satisfying.) There is, however, always a way to connect emotionally with these characters, for no matter how strange the circumstances of the story, it's the deeper emotions that make up the truly compelling foundation of each one.

It's hard to pick a favorite -- and harder to single one out as being the most memorable -- but if I had to, I think I would go with "Travels with the Snow Queen" as the one I enjoyed most in the collection. Of course, I also feel that might be my shortfalls as a reader, because I found it very easy to relate to that narrator. As a young woman coming to terms with a failed relationship, she walks a path shown in the scars of her shoeless feet and whether she must stick to this path becomes an overpowering question. The reader is led to question the sacrifices of heroines in fairy tales and wonder if the traditional happily ever after with a "hero" is quite worth it or if the heroine might be just as happy pursing some other path. A close second is "Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose," where a probably dead man exists in a somewhat limbo-like seaside resort, writing letters to his wife, whose name he cannot remember. The uncertainty of his situation and his clinging to what he believes he knows about his wife and their life paints a very poignant picture. As the first story in the book, it drew me in and assured that I would keep reading. "Flying Lessons" draws heavily on the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice (and even a bit of Icarus), but with some swapped gender roles, one feels a greater strength in the heroine so that ultimate happiness might just be possible. (Of course, there's also the looming idea of what happens then, but one must first get to the point where one can seriously ask that question). "Survivor's Ball, or, the Donner Party" features two Americans, strangers, that have decided to travel through New Zealand together for a bit. The narrator is a young man, obviously smitten with his traveling companion, and the girl is named Serena -- which led to me explicitly picturing Blake Lively in the role (as her character in Gossip Girl is also a selfish girl named Serena who easily attracts men and always gets her somewhat self-destructive way). They're driving towards a particular hotel and the news is filled with talk over a missing party of hikers in a snowstorm. Clearly, we understand some implications that are drawn with the title, though the lack of specificity in the story allows the reader to imagine all kinds of interesting results. In "Vanishing Act," a young girl is the only one paying close enough attention to watch her cousin slowly disappear (and aid her in that process) so she can rejoin her parents in faraway countries. One feels pain for this forgotten child, but even more painful is the situation of her cousin, watching a girl who seems to have some power to escape, whereas the cousin is stuck where she is, undeniably corporeal. "Water off a Black Dog's Back" features a strange relationship between a young man whose relationship with a girl and her family seems to involve some bodily sacrifice and an acceptance of whatever nonhuman nature they might possess. "Shoes and Marriage" features for vignettes that focus on variations of Cinderella, a beauty pageant and Dorothy/her companions, Imelda Marcos (a dictator's wife hoards the shoes of the people her husband has killed), and a fortune-teller's predictions. With a common theme of shoes (and, well, marriage), I enjoyed all of the vignettes, but I'm not sure how well the piece worked as a whole. I didn't much enjoy "Most of My Friends Are Two-Thirds Water," where the narrator is hopelessly in love with a friend that doesn't think much of her at all, beyond her usefulness as a person who will listen to him. He's too preoccupied with the question of whether the women in the world are turning into aliens. "Louise's Ghost" deals with two best friends named Louise, which made things challenging, but interesting, as Link was able to really play with the question of where they blended into the other and where they were decidedly distinct. "The Girl Detective" touches upon the fairy tale of the twelve dancing princesses and the idea of lost mothers. Unwittingly, I seem to have found an order of my favorites in this collection by describing them, but I'm also struck with the fact that, even though I had to look for some exact titles, I was able to remember every single story in the series without forgetting a one.

I took my time in reading Stranger Things Happen, keeping it for subway rides so I could swallow it in small bites and frequently pause to consider the ideas at play. At moments, I would have no idea where Link was taking us or why -- and at others, I felt profoundly moved. I'm fairly sure that some alchemy is at play in her words where it's possible for two people to read the exact same Link story and yet come out with completely different experiences and understandings of what happened. Link trusts the reader to draw his or her own conclusions, and often, that's what yields a spookier result. She's not afraid of open-ended ideas that have no precise answer. Several stories end without a single resolution, and so the reader is left to imagine all kinds of results. While the stories themselves might be open for interpretation, I find that one thing is certain: Kelly Link is a master of the short story.

The Temptation of the Night Jasmine

The Temptation of the Night Jasmine is the fifth installment in Lauren Willig's "Pink Carnation" series of historical fiction novels. The series follows American graduate student Eloise and her search for information on the English & French spies of the late 1700s/early 1800s that all seem to be named after flowers. Turning a bit of fiction into reality for her world, Willig's books exist in a reality where the Scarlet Pimpernel was a real spy for England during the French Revolution, though the existence of other flowery colleagues is somewhat dismissed -- incorrectly, it turns out. Eloise has focused her dissertation on proving the identity of the Pink Carnation, a spy that picked up where the Pimpernel left off. In a stroke of luck, she gained access to archives at Selwick Hall that hold a wealth of secret correspondence to support her theories -- and she got herself a British boyfriend, too. Colin, the descendant of certain flowery spies, was originally suspicious of Eloise's intentions, but appears to have warmed to her, as this book opens with Colin and Eloise marking a month of their relationship.

Fans of the series will know that it's the meeting and courtship of Colin and Eloise that frames the series, but each individual book follows a different couple, though they all have some connections to each other (younger sisters, brothers, best friends, etc.). The historic romance in this book centers on Lady Charlotte Landsdowne and Robert, Duke of Dovedale. When Charlotte was nine, she met her (very distant) cousin Robert, who was fifteen, at a time of family turmoil. Her father, the Duke, was dying and as a result of male heirs and all that, Robert would become the next Duke. Instead, he ran away to India, becoming an officer and leaving Charlotte and her somewhat tyrannical grandmother to retain control of the estate in practice if not in name. For all those years, she had a rather dreamy image of Robert and now that he has returned to England, you can just bet where she's set her cap. Of course, that would be somewhat easier to do if he didn't seem a bit distracted. He returned home to take up residence at his estate and be a Duke, right? Well, actually, Robert returned to England to exact revenge on a traitor who killed his mentor. Until he's done this, he had no idea what the future holds for him, but his pretty young cousin seems to be making a mess of his concentration. The traitor in question has a foppish way of wearing a spring of jasmine on his clothes; since Robert hasn't been in the country for a while, he's completely unaware of the whole thing with spies named for flowers and he doesn't quite realize that he might be stumbling into something that's on a grander scale than he originally believed. By returning to England, he seeks to track down this murderer and to do that, it appears that he has to insinuate himself into the ton, or at least a particularly loathsome segment of it that consists of rather seedy gentlemen. So despite his concern for his cousin's well-being, his feelings for her catch him a bit off-guard and he resolves that the only way to protect such a delicate and innocent girl like Charlotte (from evil fellows like his latest chums and from himself, a man bent on revenge) is to stay away from her. Well, unsurprisingly, Charlotte is not the delicate angel that Robert believes her to be. She might be sweet, innocent, and dreamy, with her head full of the romances in books, but she is not delicate. We readers suspect as much, but she's given a chance to prove this when, as one of the Queen's ladies in waiting, she stumbles upon a potential plot to overthrow the mad king. Ultimately, the Charlotte and Robert must recognize each other for who they really are if there's any hope of a lasting romance.

Fans of the series will sympathize with me when I say that I tend to get a mixed up about all the couples and characters that populate this series. It's always a charming young couple that almost assuredly gets together in the end, but I suppose that's part of the appeal, too. The only trouble, then, is trying to remember who is who when you meet old heroes/heroines in new books where the focus has shifted. Charlotte's best friend is Henrietta Dorrington (formerly Selwick) and while I knew she had been a previous heroine, I had to go look up that her book was The Masque of the Black Tulip and remind myself of those plotpoints. Like I said, things might blend together a bit, but the formula is part of the fun. Willig knows her audience quite well and knows what we want, but she always tosses in some exciting details. This particular book hangs heavily on the idea of the reader appreciating the formula. I was not as delighted with this novel as I was with others, but that being said, I still stayed up until 2.30am on a weeknight to finish reading this book in one sitting. Clearly, Willig is doing something right, even if I still prefer some other couples.

Readers might be keen to know that this the first book that Willig wrote as a full-time author. She originally wrote The Secret History of the Pink Carnation as a student and continued writing, even as she got her graduate degrees and started practicing law, but she's tossed it all in for a full time writing career. I suppose the idea of a fifth book in a series convinced her that the whole writing thing was not a dream. Yes, there is a wide audience clamoring for her easy to read but easy to enjoy romances. Yes, she can make a living off of these delicious romps. Of course, she's gotten a bit more conservative with the romances as she's gone through the series. In the Pink Carnation there was fellatio in a boat on the Thames for goodness sake! Here, we get some making out on a roof in the cold. (Granted, someone else ends up in a scandal, but we don't get that one described for us. And here, we're trying to let two characters get to know the deeper truths about their chosen partner, so perhaps it's best that they aren't tumbling around in boats.) Willig has stepped back from the more sensational things, which is a bit of a shame, as I enjoyed her ability to write whatever she liked as long as it was fun. She still captures the romantic ideas, and she even tempers some of them to focus on what love is as opposed to just infatuation and lust. But I think we could have gotten a bit more lust. Thank goodness the next bit features a redhead who was involved in this book's scandal.

If you enjoy the series, I'm sure you'll enjoy Night Jasmine. (If you haven't read the others, then I highly recommend that you start at the beginning. Thankfully, Willig doesn't waste too much time in summarizing, particularly when every book doesn't necessarily have any bearing on the others.) I continue to be excited for whatever Willig might put on the market and I hope that she continues to produce such delightful novels for a long, long time.

Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief

Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief is a fantasy/adventure novel for kids/young adults which is heavily steeped in Greek mythology. If you're picking this out for a young reader, I would advise that you teach them some of the basics before they start the series. Sure, they might balk a bit at having to study something before they can read Percy Jackson, but try to emphasize all the sex and violence in the myths. That should get them interested. Percy might be an less explicit introduction to mythology, but as with many things for kids these days, it's probably better if they learn the real stuff before they embark on the series that twists it up. That said, Rick Riordan actually does a pretty good job of keeping the old mythology intact. But without knowing the real mythology beforehand, lots of things will fly over a reader's head.

Percy (short for Perseus) Jackson is in sixth grade, on the verge of getting kicked out of yet another private boarding school. He's got a bit of a temper and he's been diagnosed with ADHD and Dyslexia, which means that if he hasn't failed out of a class because of his poor work, he's been thrown out of it for his behavior. Trouble just seems to follow him, but despite this, he seems like quite a good kid at heart. He adores his mother, Sally, and it's the thought of her disappointment that drives his efforts to make each school work. He has only a vague memory of a smiling father, but Sally insists that Percy's father disappeared (lost at sea) before Percy was born. Despite this, Sally speaks very fondly of her short affair with Percy's father and Percy fervently wishes he could have known him. Since then, Sally married a boorish and dreadful man (Smelly Gabe, as Percy calls him) and despite her dreams of going to college and writing a novel, Sally works hard simply to pay for Percy's tuition. While off at his boarding school, the only class that seems to interest Percy is Latin, and that's only because their charismatic teacher, Mr. Brunner, expects more from Percy than any other teacher has expected of him before.

Of course, this is all background information for Percy, who is quickly hurtled into a new world when his math teacher transforms into a monster and tries to kill him. Some time later, Percy overhears his best friend, Grover, having a late night conversation with Mr. Brunner that suggests they're concerned for his safety. When the kids head home for summer, Grover starts to get a bit clingy, insisting that he accompany Percy home, but Percy shakes him off the first moment he can to run home for some time with his mom. (Side note: believe me, the Oedipal issues here are tempting, but even Riordan doesn't go there.)

As the reader with a basic idea of the book, we're prepared for what Percy will learn, even if he is not. Percy and his mom immediately take off for a weekend vacation to a cabin they frequently rent in Montauk (Percy is fairly certain that this place is special to his mother because he thinks this is where she met his father) Grover shows up with a monster on his tail (oh, and it turns out that Grover's a satyr, so pun intended). Percy's mother seems to know of a place where Percy will be safe (meanwhile Percy is thoroughly confused), though just before they reach it, Grover is hurt and Percy's mother is attacked/possibly killed by what appears to be the Minotaur. Percy then manages to kill the beast and drags Grover to safety, the image of his mother disappearing in thin air haunting his dreams. He wakes up at Camp Half-Blood where everything comes out. Percy is a demigod. The gods are real, even if people no longer believe in them. And all those tricks they got up to in the myths where they're sleeping around with humans? Yeah, they still do that. As a result, there are lots of half-human children about, though fewer make it to adolescence, given that they tend to attract the attention of evil forces and monsters. If they aren't killed, they wind up at Camp Half-Blood (often watched over and assisted by satyrs). The diagnosis of ADHD is a result of their heightened senses and the Dyslexia is because their brains are hardwired for Ancient Greek. That Latin teacher, Dr. Brunner? That would be Chiron, trainer of heroes, who's had his eye on Percy. His wheelchair was a magic concealment for the fact that he's a centaur. And the math teacher that Percy killed is one of the Furies. Got all that?

At Camp Half-Blood, demigods train to be the heroes their heritage destines them to be. But just because they know that some kid's a demigod (s/he found the camp and then didn't die when they fed him/her ambrosia), one exists in a bit of a limbo until one is "claimed" by the god in question, be it one of the Olympians or a lesser god. Given the camp's population, most gods seem to get around quite a bit, and as a result, there's a cabin for each of the Olympian gods. Only four cabins remain empty: the one for Artemis (she swore to remain a virgin), one for Hera (goddess of marriage and therefore no fooling around), one for Zeus and one for Poseidon. Now here you might be wondering, wait -- I know my mythology. Wasn't Zeus the biggest philanderer of all? Well, it turns out that "the Big Three" (Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades) made a pact after World War II (which turns out to have been Hades' kids against Zeus and Poseidon's) that they would no longer father any more illegitimate children, as their children tended to be even more powerful than the usual demigod. So Percy causes a bit of a stir when, after shortly remaining in limbo to learn the ropes of Camp Half-Blood, an incident with a beast makes it clear that he is the result of Poseidon breaking the pact. All hail Percy Jackson, son of the Sea God.

Despite his very recent introduction to all this, Percy immediately has to go on a quest as a result of some trouble on Olympus (currently located on the 600th floor of the Empire State Building). Apparently, Zeus' lightning bolt has been stolen and since gods cannot directly steal from other gods, Zeus thinks that Poseidon got his half-blood hero son Percy to snatch it for him. Meanwhile Poseidon is under the impression that he's been framed by their other brother, Hades, who would presumably stand to gain by a rift between Zeus and Poseidon. Zeus demands that there will be war if the bolt is not returned by the summer solstice and Poseidon declares the same if Zeus doesn't apologize for slandering him as a thief. This apparently means the gods need a sixth grader to sort all of this out, as they're all behaving like children. So Percy goes off on a quest with the idea of heading to the Underworld to retrieve the bolt (and quite possibly his mother) from Hades, along with Grover and a girl named Annabeth, a daughter of Athena who's been stuck at the camp since she was seven. As they trek across the country (because the entrance to the Underworld is naturally located in Los Angeles and since Zeus has it out for Percy, they can't exactly fly), they encounter various gods and monsters before the ultimate end battles. As this is the first of five Percy Jackson books, you can at least bet that Percy comes out alive from all this, even if things don't go according to plan.

As a lover of Greek mythology, I remember balking when Disney came out with the cartoon Hercules that would end up presenting an incorrect version of Greek mythology to kids. I eventually moved on (I was a sucker for Meg's song about not falling in love), but you can bet that the very first book I ever bought for my godson was Edith Hamilton's Mythology. (Though at the age of one, he didn't really skim through the book himself so much as he let us read to him from it for a few years.) Sure, the kids watching watered-down myths all probably get a bit confused when they eventually read the real ones (I try not to think of the kids who don't study mythology later on and end up thinking that Hercules really is the son of Zeus and Hera) but I suppose it's similar to kids getting the cleaned-up version of most history where the more complicated bits are breezed over so mommy and daddy don't need to explain what an illegitimate child is or why sailors really wanted to visit tantalizing islands of women. So imagine my surprise at Riordan's world where these kids are totally the products of illicit affairs, openly admitted, though perhaps not in those terms. The myths remain completely intact, Riordan's simply added on a bit of history to bring us up to date (like the World War II thing and a complicated bit of understanding that equates the residence of the gods with the height of Western civilization, thus leading to its present location in America).

Riordan is clearly a lover of Greek mythology first and a children's author second, because he didn't sugarcoat much of anything. He keeps a tone consistent with the myths themselves and not always found in books aimed towards a younger audience... namely, that life isn't fair, no gift comes without some strings attached, and the gods really don't care that much about humans. The idea of heroes in training is one thing, but all of these kids are dealing with the fact that they have at least one very absent parent who will toss a smile their way if they're lucky. Late in the book, a god insists that such distance is a result of the need to not show favoritism, but it was a pretty sad moment when Percy looks at a cabin full of kids to see that many of them were unclaimed by gods who couldn't be bothered to remember if they had produced a child. And then there's the human who's been seduced by a god, ditched, and is now a single parent to an abnormal child. Percy's mom, despite being a wonderful woman, is still a girl who got knocked up and abandoned by a man who she continues views as an ideal. Given the fact that Posideon isn't running around as much as he used to, Percy and his mother can still believe that she was special, but think of all the other gods' children who have a host of half-siblings to deal with. Percy got off lucky. His mother is a wonderful person, but when you're looking at how poor they are, with Sally married to Smelly Gabe (who is clearly abusive even if it takes Percy a while to realize this)... it was enough to be furious at Poseidon for not doing a thing to help her out. As we learn more about the other demigods, every family seems to have some complications and every child needs to find a way to deal with their existence. Whether it's the search to be recognized by their parent or bitterness at being ignored, Camp Half-Blood is overflowing with the potential drama of ignored children. (Btw, I'm gonna doubt that we get into this during the course of the Percy Jackson books, but I'd be curious about the role of birth control. I mean, is it useless in the face of potential demigod spawning activities or is there just a lot of unsafe sex being practiced here? What kind of message does this send to kids who read this?)

When it comes to updating the myths, I was alternately pleased and disappointed. Mostly, though, I thought Riordan was clever in updating things. Percy had studied mythology, so usually caught on just in time to avoid being captured, eaten, or turned to stone. Given his namesake, I actually expected Medusa to play a much larger role than she did, but perhaps we'll see "Aunty Em" return. I particularly liked his encounter with "Crusty" (aka Procrustes) towards the end of Percy's journey, much as Procrustes was the last adventure that Theseus had as he made his way to Athens. I'm still a little confused with Percy's vision of the Fates knitting these giant socks, because they snipped the yarn, which means someone is supposed to die, but no one did, so either Grover freaked out for nothing/the Fates got it wrong or someone else died that wasn't in the direct storyline, which is kind of annoying. The good thing out of all this is the knowledge that there's plenty of Greek myths to go around, so even though this seemed like it referenced a heck of a lot of stories, Percy will surely encounter many more. For kids reading this, it offers many small sections of action and adventure, rather than simply building up to just one scene, so I imagine that it would be satisfying for children to read in many sessions.

The big criticism I have for this book is true for every post-Harry Potter series where you have kids grouped together because of a specific secret they all share. I kept getting flashes of the Harry Potter equivalent to things in Percy's world. The twelve cabins at Camp Half-Blood were like the four houses of Hogwarts (and they wouldn't have needed to wait for some sign of the god claiming a child if they had a Sorting Hat). Chiron was like Dumbledore, a kindly educator who has been around for quite some time and sees something special in Percy. Charon pulls a Hermione by explicitly teaching the reader how to say his name. Annabeth/Hermione is the very intelligent girl and Grover/Ron is the well-meaning, but slightly bumbling guy friend. Heck, even the name "Percy" isn't that far off from "Harry." That said, there's always going to be ample points for comparison in every coming of age story for young people and I think that with the firm grounding in Greek mythology, Riordan has at least staked out his own territory.

Riordan packs a lot into this book and you can tell that he's laid the groundwork for the whole series here. Grover wants to be a Seeker and find Pan; Percy makes an enemy of a god; a darker force threatens the structure of everything; a villain escapes; Percy becomes distinctly aware of his potential role as a pawn in the games of the gods. I read The Lightning Thief in a few hours and I can already tell that I'll keep reading to find out what other things are in store for Perseus Jackson. And since my godson already knows the real myths, I'll have no problem endorsing these books as a fun, modern follow-up.

Oh, and here's a link to the trailer for the upcoming movie. (As a result of having seen the trailer before reading the books, I totally pictured Pierce Brosnan as Chiron throughout the book and I'm not sure if that was a good thing.)

The Crown of Columbus

The Crown of Columbus was written by Louise Erdrich and Michael Dorris, a husband and wife team of authors with Native American roots... sort of... well, more on that later. Both Erdrich and Dorris are individually noted for their own accomplishments (Erdrich mostly for her novels, Dorris for his poetry as well as his nonfiction activism), but they frequently collaborated. They wrote together under the pseudonym Milou North, though The Crown of Columbus is the only novel where they publish using their individual names. It's impossible to not speculate on how they wrote this book, as it is told from a variety of perspectives, particularly weighted towards that of the two main characters: Vivian Twostar and Roger Williams. As a result of this, I immediately pictured Erdrich and Dorris as writing about themselves in slightly adjusted terms... two intelligent and passionate academics at Dartmouth who think quite highly of themselves and each other.

Louise Erdrich-- I mean Vivian Twostar is an untenured professor at Dartmouth College, heading up the Native American Studies department and clashing regularly with the administration, who might be less hesitant in their dismissal of her as an unconventional professor if it weren't for the fact that it would look bad to let go of the only Native American on staff. As a bit of a peace offering (no pun intended... well... not much of one) and to add to her meager list of published work (which might help her bid for tenure and secure some stability to her existence), she has agreed to write and publish an article on Columbus for the approaching quincentennial celebrations. Naturally, the college administration would hope for a Native American perspective, to which Vivian responds, "I told them to advertise on reservations for a series of 'Discover Spain' tours. Twenty-eight days, flamenco included. I said the government should erect a huge neon sign near Samana Cay that flashed morning, noon and night: 'Wrong Way to Calcutta.'" Clearly, Vivian marches to her own drummer, refusing to submit to stereotypes from any of the number of people who lay claim to her. She has a teenage son named Nash, whose father has long since left to start his "real family" out in California, and they share their home with Vivian's Grandmother, who raised young Vivian after her own mother left. Being left seems to be a theme in Vivian's life, so when she finds herself pregnant with the baby of fellow professor Roger Williams, she preemptively ends things with him, explaining that she knows he'll be frustrated, be disappointed, and abandon them soon enough, so they might as well end things now.

More about Michael Dorri-- ahem. Roger Williams. In most reviews of this book that I've read, they cite Roger as being everything Vivian is not. Well, this is true, except they're both intelligent professors working on pieces that have to do with Columbus while living in Hanover, New Hampshire, so let's keep it in perspective. They approach life from different perspectives. A very white poet and English professor with a stereotypically wealthy WASP family, Roger lives the life of a bachelor with means. A creature of habit, he has a very specific routine and keeps a clean home, without clutter and without much complication. For some time now, he has been working on an epic poem about Columbus entitled "Diary of a Lost Man." Vivian completely disrupts his life, from even the first moment of their meeting. They quickly become lovers, enjoying their secret liaison until Vivian announces her pregnancy and, therefore, the end of their affair. It is Vivian who puts an end to things, but Roger does not follow her or demand to be part of her life. She has read him right in the sense that her family and their baby would entirely upend his existence but the question then becomes whether he wants to adjust and find value in this new life (or really, if he's even capable of doing so).

Vivian falls asleep in the library one day, to awake around midnight and find that she's been locked in. Heavily pregnant, experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions, and worried about her somewhat troublesome teenage son, Vivian deals with her situation by continuing to research Columbus (um, because aren't we all this rational?). She stumbles across letters from the Cobb family, a Dartmouth dynasty that, according to these letters, seem to emphasize a family trait of feeling that the college has stolen something from them by misplacing a gift from one of their ancestors. During the course of that same night of Vivian's library imprisonment, Roger had a somewhat different encounter with an angry relative. He enters his home with the distinct feeling that a person who lives alone can have when they feel that someone else has been there. His fear is confirmed when he finds his personal diary missing (a diary with extensive discussion of his relationship with Vivian and his feelings about impending fatherhood). He's unable to focus on this theft when Vivian's Grandmother calls Roger, looking for Vivian. Alerted to her disappearance, Roger starts combing the campus and finds a different Twostar -- Vivian's son, Nash, who is ripping pages from Roger's diary and taping them to the doors of student dorms. Roger has to go through four different buildings to collect them all, but at the end, he is more than aware of Nash's negative feelings about Roger impregnating his mother. Vivian reemerges from the library somewhat anticlimactically and some time later, after giving birth (a girl named Violet), she makes steps towards reuniting with Roger. At the same time and with incredible ease, Vivian finds the missing Cobb donation (in a box so confusingly mislabeled that it's shocking anyone could ever understand that "Cabb" really meant "Cobb"...), which turn out to be possible pages from the diary of Columbus. Roger, already riled by Vivian's encroaching on his academic territory, finds their authenticity hard to imagine, but Vivian goes ahead and contacts the latest in a long line of angry Cobbs about this discovery. Henry, a businessman with a somewhat unsavory reputation, immediately wires Vivian a thousand dollars so she can come to see him in in the Bahamas (his ability to step foot on American soil without being seized by authorities is in some question). So naturally, Vivian, Roger, Nash, and Violet all head down to the Bahamas to discover the secrets of Columbus.

The Crown of Columbus jumped to the top of my queue as a result of book club. It might be the first time that I've showed up to book club without finishing the book (or at least to the point where I couldn't finish the handful of pages while I sat and waited for people to arrive). As a result, I asked my fellow members to summarize the ending for me so I could participate fully in the discussion and my response to their summary was "Um... WTF?" When you read the summary that I've provided above, using only this information, can you guess where this all ends up? You might think you can, but I promise you that you can't. Yes, you might be able to predict the fights that Vivian and Roger get into and yet love conquers all. Yes, you might be able to predict that somehow, Violet ends up washed ashore from the sea, given the opening chapter that foreshadows this. Yes, you might be able to predict that Henry is up to no good and he believes there's some treasure in all of this. Yes, you might be able to predict that these academics suddenly go all Indiana Jones on us just because they can! But you, too, will still wind up going "WTF?" I would tell you the ending so you could understand this immediately, but I wouldn't want to rob you of what I consider the strongest reaction this book elicited in me.

So, I can't absolutely say that I enjoyed this book and I would heartily recommend it, though there were several mildly amusing and interesting parts. (The scene where Nash rips up Roger's diary and pastes the pages to various dorm room doors sticks out in my mind.) I've read a number of high praise reviews online, so perhaps I'm in the minority (and maybe I can avert the fate of the college administration by offering criticism to Native American authors because I, too, am a teensy bit Native American?), because I only found this book to be so-so. Three and a half stars out of five feels generous, and if kept to whole numbers, I'd downgrade to three. The reason for it is this: no reader will every be as interested in these characters as I'm sure Dorris & Erdrich were. It's absolutely impossible. Vivian = Louise and Roger = Michael, fictionalized and with a few little twists (like Roger being white, except Michael was likely all white, too... more on that later). Clearly, these characters were drawn from their experiences and the amusing idea of "hey, we could do an Indiana Jones thing!" And much like Indiana Jones, we get all Biblical at the end, even when we thought we were just chasing something that belonged in a museum. I wasn't ever necessarily bored, but it was very easy to set this book aside for something else until the action scenes, and even then you kept reading because the end was in sight. The majority of the book is spent in Hanover, going through some semi-realistic relationship issues and some of the most detailed descriptions of pregnancy that I've ever encountered in literature (granted, I don't seek these out). We set ourselves up for complication. Personally, I feel that Vivian's dismissal of Roger is much too abrupt to be believable, but I made some allowances for this when she ends up returning to try things again. The whole Columbus plotline? It almost intrudes on the bigger issues surrounding Vivian and Roger's relationship and Nash's teenage rebellion. The only thing that made the Columbus plotline acceptable was the fact that Erdrich and Norris went to a great deal of trouble to look at the issue from a number of perspectives and even the characters themselves are open to new ideas. Vivian is looking for vindication of native people; Roger is looking for a man with ambition and poetry; Henry is seeking a clever entrepreneur. Eventually, we fly down to the Bahamas, find ourselves in an adventure novel (with quite limited adventure, though), and, by the end of the book, just when things look grim, everything turns out okay! And on top of that, silent and grunting Nash (Vivian advises Roger to think of her son as "Gnash" at one point) is ridiculously eloquent and observant in the one chapter that is narrated from his perspective (so Louise and Michael--I mean Vivian and Roger--are good parents, too!). Oh, and Henry Cobb is a terribly one-note villain. And Roger's poem sucks. Dorris is a much better poet than Roger Williams.

Frankly, I found that the story behind the novel about Erdrich and Dorris was far more interesting than the book, though incredibly tragic. Michael Dorris was the first single man to be approved for adoption in the United States, adopting a Lakota boy who turned out to suffer from Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. Dorris brought the issue of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome to a wider audience, particularly as an issue important to the Native American community, and wrote a memoir on his experience. He ended up adopting other children who likely suffered from the same issue. Dorris met Erdrich while teaching at Dartmouth (he was a teacher and she was a student). They married and eventually had three daughters together, living what appeared to be quite a lovely life, before the story takes a dreadful turn. Dorris's son who inspired his memoir was killed the same year that this novel was published. A few years later, the second son that Dorris adopted accused both parents of child abuse; Dorris and Erdrich were unsuccessful in pursuing an extortion case against him in court. Shortly after, Dorris and Erdrich separated and began divorce proceedings before Dorris committed suicide. The literary world was shocked, though later, it came to light that more abuse allegations were stirring, this time from one of their daughters. Since then, Erdrich has continued to receive acclaim for her work and only last year was nominated for a Pulitzer. Oh, and one last thing -- as for the Native American roots, clearly Erdrich is an enrolled member of the Anishinaabe tribe, but while Dorris claimed Modoc roots, this remains somewhat questionable. Evidently, since he is not enrolled in any tribe and there is no documented proof of ancestry, some people find his claim tenuous at best. What cannot be denied, though, is his devotion to Native American culture, and frankly I think this counts for a lot. Then again, I'm a very white redheaded girl with Acoma and Hispanic roots, so I know a few things about one's questionable origins.

As far as The Crown of Columbus is concerned, ultimately, the varied perspectives on Columbus and what he means for different groups of people were interesting, but the book wasn't as delightful as it could have been. Certainly it was pleasant, but there's a wealth of other fiction out there that have similar themes of solving historical puzzles... and you don't need to go to Dan Brown for it. If this is a genre you enjoy, then it's likely that you'll also enjoy this one. I'm just not sure I'd put a hugely enthusiastic recommendation behind it.

The Death of Bunny Munro

The Death of Bunny Munro was written by Nick Cave, the singer/songwriter/musician who most people know via his band Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. I suppose that we shouldn't be surprised when certain songwriters turn out to be excellent novel writers -- after all, being a songwriter essentially means one is a type of poet. The type of writing that's being done in a novel, however, is quite different, and I found that my favorite moments of The Death of Bunny Munro weren't necessarily plot-driven, but rather, they were simple observations crafted in beautiful language that reminded me of Nick Cave's poetic talent. Of course, I was given the audiobook of Bunny Munro as a gift and I highly recommend that if you are going to read this book, you should purchase the audiobook version. Not only will you have the supreme delight of hearing Nick Cave read his own work, but he's also added some small sound effects and music that do a great deal in creating tensions and highlighting the particularly surreal parts.

Bunny Munro is a British salesman who peddles high quality beauty products and lotions door-to-door by appointment. He is also a middle-aged seducer of anything vaguely female. Bunny has a wife and a nine-year-old son named Bunny Jr. waiting at home, which is in Brighton, but he is frequently on the road. As the book opens, Bunny is on the phone with his wife, explaining that he'll be home tomorrow morning, which is as soon as he can possibly be there. This is a lie. He is in Brighton motel with a prostitute, across town from his family, and it is this choice to not go home that is the catalyst for all events that follow. Of course, even if he had gone home this time, one gets the feeling that things would have turned out this way sooner or later.

When Bunny does get home in the morning, he finds that his wife has committed suicide, an event she clearly planned for, as she had already purchased suits for her husband and son to wear to her funeral. The novel deals with the aftermath of her suicide as Bunny and Bunny Jr. try to carry on... which mostly consists of Bunny Munro losing his grip on life/his sanity in a steady downward spiral (after all, the book is called The Death of Bunny Munro) and poor Bunny Jr. trying to hold on. Once they've gotten through the funeral (and the funeral "after party" with Bunny's sleazy friends), Bunny brings his son along as he sells products, thinking nothing of keeping Bunny Jr. out of school and abandoning their home. In addition to this, there's a "side" storyline that plays heavily into Bunny's mindset: a rapist/killer is on the loose in Britain, dressing as a devil (bare chested with red face paint, wearing horns), who is repeatedly caught on mall security footage and seems to be making his way down through the country, towards Brighton.

I stick by my initial response to someone when I was asked if I enjoyed this book; that response was "Yyyeessss...?" It's not exactly a book that one enjoys, as the main character is officially a terrible human being and one's heart breaks every other page for poor Bunny Jr., but there's some beautiful language and overall, I found the book to be thought-provoking and interesting. There were even a few moments where I enjoyed the depiction of such a sleazy Lothario, but he really is a horrifying excuse for a man. It isn't even his penchant for screwing every willing (and occasionally unwilling) woman he comes across; it's more that his mindset is so twisted that he sees absolutely nothing wrong with his behavior. At his best, he drives along, honking at lesbians and leering at every woman. He even ogles a baby girl at one point, noting that he isn't someone who wants to have sex with kids, but in a couple of years, that girl would be quite a knock-out... Ugh. About 90% of his conscious thoughts seem to be directed towards sex and getting women to sleep with him (though shockingly, he does not seem to have much trouble in getting them to do just that in the early part of the novel) or simply fantasizing about a woman's vagina (he doesn't really imagine sexual scenarios with women so much as he just pictures a vagina... he even refers to himself as "a vagina man"). Side note: if I was Avril Lavigne, this book would make me insanely uncomfortable. Bunny Munro imagines Avril Lavigne's vagina quite a lot and seems to hold it up as a kind of ideal. Note that I say "it" and not really "her," as he seems rather unconcerned with any of the women themselves in this book, other than figuring out what they want him to say so he can get in their pants.

Poor Bunny Jr. is a smart and good-hearted little boy who has been dealt a crummy hand. He's polite and well-behaved, with an impressive memory. He spends a great deal of time reading his encyclopedia, which his mother gave to him. In addition, he has a small eye disorder that requires him to take drops to soothe his eyes, a fact that Bunny never remembers, and rather than press the issue and remind his father, Bunny Jr. seems content to risk going blind. He clearly adores his father, unaware that Bunny is hardly concerned with his son at all. He parrots out things that his father says, like swear words and "my dad could sell a bicycle to a barracuda." Bunny Jr.'s mother loved him, yes, but she was not strong enough to leave her husband or live with his behavior. Now Bunny Jr. is left alone with an unfit father. After his wife's funeral, Bunny tries to get his her parents to take the boy, but they will not accept him, for they only see Bunny in the child, the man who drove their daughter to suicide.

Nick Cave has a delightfully wicked sense of humor, which makes the story bearable. Even at the darkest moments, we have that. If we didn't, then I have no idea how I could have made it through this depiction of child negligence and family pain. Clearly, Bunny feels some amount of guilt for his wife's death, or he wouldn't be as haunted as he is, and his own deterioration shows how this plays upon him. Bunny Jr., too, has visions of his mother. But beyond this, we have even more surreal elements at play -- I'm sure reading this has a similar effect, but the haunting chords that accompanied Nick Cave's reading in the audiobook felt like they provided great assistance in transporting the reader to an otherworldly place. Of course, it was these surreal moments (particularly a very obvious scene where Bunny "makes peace" with people in his life) that I didn't quite enjoy. They seemed almost too much or not enough... just not right, I suppose. We are building to this ultimate moment of denial and self-absolution with Bunny, but by this point, I was ready for Bunny to receive his comeuppance. As much as I enjoyed the novel, I was pleased that it ended when it did, as I'm not sure how much more heartbreak I could have taken on behalf of poor Bunny Jr.

So if you do decide to read this one, please get the audiobook -- it's well worth it, if only to hear the words from the writer/poet himself.

The Book of Three

Whenever I'm at my parents' home, surrounded by the books of my childhood, I will inevitably pick one up and read. (Especially when I'm supposed to be doing things like reading serious book club books or writing business school application essays.) This time, I selected the first of Lloyd Alexander's Prydain Chronicles: The Book of Three. If you haven't read Lloyd Alexander at all, then I feel terribly sorry for your sad and empty childhood.

The basic plot should seem quite familiar: a peaceful land threatened by evil and the people who must band together to save it. It's the telling of the story that really makes it unique, though.The Prydain Chronicles consist of five books with an epic fantasy storyline, heavily modeled upon Welsh lore. The first book in the series is The Book of Three, where we are introduced to our key players and get our first taste of the threat to Prydain. The dark lord Arawn is mustering forces in his kingdom of Annuvin, led by his champion the Horned King. For years the Sons of Don, who rule Prydain, have kept Arawn in check, but nevertheless, Arawn appears to be making movements to start a war.

Taran is a young man, hungry for adventure and excitement, though he spends his days working on the farm of Caer Dallben. Of course, it isn't quite a normal farm -- among the animals is Hen Wen (an oracular pig of great fame and importance, though Taran has seen no evidence of her powers) and the owner of the farm is Dallben (a scholar and wizard who is over three hundred years old). Still, Taran wishes to learn swordplay and fight like his hero, Prince Gwydion. When he longs for a title and destiny, Coll (a middle aged farmer that is clearly more than he appears to be) names Taran "Assistant Pig Keeper." So when a disturbance causes the animals to flee and Hen Wen to escape, Taran feels responsible and so he runs after her. Almost immediately, Taran discovers that the animals fled because the Horned King is near and Taran becomes injured. He wakes up to find his hero, Prince Gwydion, caring for his injury. Gwydion had been traveling to learn something from Hen Wen, and so he joins Taran in his search for the pig.

As they search, we meet several important characters along the way. Gurgi, a half-animal/half-human creature, tells them that he saw Hen Wen being pursued by the Horned King. After being captured by some of Arawn's fearsome Cauldron-Born (soulless warriors created from the dead), they meet the evil enchantress Queen Achren, who offers Gwydion the chance to join her and with her help, rule Prydain and overthrow Arawn. When he refuses, she throws him and Taran into separate dungeon cells. Taran then meets Princess Eilonwy, a young enchantress of the House of Llyr who is supposed to be learning from her Aunt Achren (though Eilonwy is not convinced that they're related). Eilonwy helps Taran escape and also manages to free "his companion in the other cell," though once they escape and the castle has somehow collapsed, killing everyone still inside (which we later learn is due to Eilonwy's removing a particular sword of power from the castle as they fled), it's discovered that the man Eilonwy rescued from the other cell is not Gwydion. He is Fflewddur Fflam, a king who has given up his kingdom to be an unofficial bard, though he owes his talent to his magic harp, whose strings snap when Fflewddeur bends the truth -- which is quite often. Believing that Gwydion must be dead, Taran takes it upon himself to travel to Caer Dathyl to warn the House of Don, but he is not alone, as Gurgi, Eilonwy and Fflewddur (not to mention Gwydion's very wise horse Melyngar) insist on accompanying him. After a chance meeting with Medwyn, a healer who protects animals, and an encounter with the Fair Folk adds a dwarf named Doli (who cannot turn invisible, unlike the rest of his family, to his intense irritation) to their party, they ultimately must fight and stand against the Horned King.

Not to worry -- we're just at the beginning of the story, so all ends well (Hen Wen is found! Gwydion isn't dead! The Horned King is defeated!), but it's clear that there is real danger afoot that will enter into future books. I challenge you to try and not fall in love with Taran, a very real young man with a good heart who gets the adventure he wants, yet still comes to understand the importance of home and peace. He learns and matures through lots of errors, but is also capable of making the right decision in the face of pressure. He ultimately prevails in this first challenge with the help of his traveling companions. As with all Lloyd Alexander novels, the best part is the sense of comedy and whimsy. Eilonwy talks a great deal and is quick to take Taran down a few notches whenever he's too uptight. As a princess with red-gold hair, it's not hard to understand why this redhead always loved her, but she is a charming and outspoken girl, an excellent role model for young ladies, as she never shies away from a fight and always speaks her mind. Fflewddeur is charming as he repeatedly exaggerates, causing harp strings to snap. And Gurgi, well... Gurgi is a bit annoying, but he means well, so the reader, like Taran, ultimately decides that Gurgi isn't so bad.

As a kid, I loved these books. They're notable in my past as being responsible for my first (and only) request for an extension on a paper. In sixth grade, I asked for a single day extension on a book report, which was granted, as I was writing about the whole series and not just one book. I rather wish I still had that paper, as I'd be curious to read my initial impressions. I'm sure it touched on my elementary understanding of Welsh mythology, but I seem to remember a lot of summarizing of the books... kind of similar to this. Hm.

So if you know a young reader aged 10-12 and they're not quite ready for Tolkien or other, similar fantasy novels, you might point them in Alexander's direction. A bit of a warning for the kiddies, though: there's frequent violence and people do get hurt. Also a word of warning to parents: if you buy the first book, you might as well just buy the whole series for your kid, as s/he will certainly want to keep reading about Taran, Eilonwy, and their friends. When they've finished those, you can then start buying the rest of Alexander's oeuvre. He wrote many gems (my favorite series being, of course, the Vesper Holly books) and frequently played with mythology. He's a funny and charming writer and whether the reader is young or old, I think everyone can find something compelling and delightful about this series.

The Elegance of the Hedgehog

Whenever books receive a certain amount of acclaim, I always worry that they will not live up to my expectations. It's sad, in a way, that when there's a great amount of buzz about a book, my first impulse is to doubt, but I've had my hopes crushed one too many times. So as much as I looked forward to reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog, I was a bit hesitant to actually pick it up. In the end, there was no reason to fear. This novel is utterly lovely and quite deserves all the praise it has received.

Muriel Barbery sets her novel in Paris at 7 rue de Grenelle, an upper-class residence of apartments, and the story is told from two perspectives. The first is that of Madame Renée Michel, who has been the concierge at 7 rue de Grenelle for twenty-seven years. Renée is 54, somewhat dumpy and nondescript. She exerts a great amount of effort in keeping up the appearance of the average concierge: gruff and ignorant, with a constantly-blaring television and a very fat cat. But despite this projection, Renée is an incredibly intelligent woman, an avid reader of fine literature and philosophy who is unwilling to be found out and recognized for her proclivities. She distrusts the wealthy and isolates herself into a very predictable existence, with a steady routine and one friend. She believes this is enough. Our other narrator is Paloma Josse, a precociously philosophical twelve-year-old resident of the building. Paloma is an introvert who has a tendency to hide from her family so she can be left alone with her thoughts, which she is recording in a journal, along with observations on the world and assessments of those around her. Since she has been disappointed in life and the people in it, she has come to the conclusion that it's better to die young rather than grow up into the kind of adult she sees around her, and so she is planning to commit suicide on her 13th birthday by setting the apartment on fire and taking a number of sleeping pills.

Both of these narrators are incredibly eloquent; Renée is a more touch formal and Paloma has a tendency to present tidy pieces of wit. The first half of the novel is taken up with their observations of various people in the building and musings on their own lives and reading, without any interaction between the two. About midway through the novel, though, both lives are changed when a new resident moves into the building: Kakuro Ozu is a wealthy and successful Japanese gentleman, which would normally slide him into the dismissible category for both of these narrators. But Kakuro is also an observant and thoughtful man, quickly aware of such unique characters as the intelligent concierge (who lets a Tolstoy reference slip in their first short conversation) and the quiet twelve-year-old (who reads manga and is taking Japanese at school). As Renée and Paloma form their separate friendships with Kakuro, they find a kindred spirit in each other, too. If anything, I wish that this coming together of our two narrators had happened a bit earlier, as I felt we didn't have enough interaction between them.

I must give great credit to the translator, Alison Anderson. Muriel Barbery writes in French, so Ms. Anderson plays a crucial role in this novel's appeal to an English-speaking market. I would recommend this book on the basis of its language alone. Yes, it's lofty and often philosophical, but I find that to be delightful. The ideas are refreshing and never dry (indeed, Renée at one time talks about the value of films such as The Hunt for Red October amidst her musings on Japanese films and philosophers). I frequently re-read passages to savor their charm, and certainly believe this is some of the most exquisite language that I've encountered this year. It's truly remarkable to be able to surrender to a well-formed character's voice taking you along on her thought process. Incredibly simple things become fascinating and you wonder if you could ever express things quite so beautifully as Renée and Paloma. These two ladies are utterly charming and while at times, they were somewhat unbelievable as real people, I found that reservation easy enough to cast off before I was delighting in both Renée and Paloma. Of course, I think that Renée was the one to truly steal my heart. Paloma is sweet, yes, but Renée really steals the show.

Ultimately, the book is wonderfully bittersweet, owed entirely to one's feelings about the characters, and I admit that it's been quite some time since I've cried at the end of a novel -- not just misty eyes, but actual tears. The language and the characters continue to drift into my thoughts. I've gone back to look at a few particularly memorable passages with a smile. So don't let the great reviews throw you -- they're all quite true. It's an elegant novel that quite deserves your attention. C'est magnifique.