Wow! I didn't realize it had been so long. I thought I'd mention a few books that I thought were worth mentioning from the last few months. (I've gotten a lot pickier about what I spend my time on lately.)
Heather Tomlinson's fairy tales are worth a look. I liked The Swan Maiden and Aurelie better than Toads and Diamonds.
Elizabeth C. Bunce's StarCrossed. What I like about this book is that what Digger believes about herself (callous, uncaring, selfish) is shown to be untrue by her actions.
Donald Miller's Searching for God Knows What. Read this book! He manages to be honest, funny, insightful and wise, sometimes all at once, as he talks about man's relationship with God (using many stories from his own life as illustrations). I want to say this book changed how I see a lot of things, but it's only been a couple months since I've read it and I really ought to give it another read to see what else it shakes up.
Madeleine L'Engle's Walking on Water. I've only just started reading this but already it's quite good. If you're an artist of any kind I suspect you'll find some wisdom here.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Nancy Farmer's Trolls series
Being The Sea of Trolls, The Land of the Silver Apples, and The Islands of the Blessed.
Oh, Thorgil.
These books actually remind me of Juliet Marillier's in atmosphere, but are somewhat cheerier and quite a bit more action driven. I was actually surprised when I got to the end that Farmer fit so many different episodes into three books, though some of them are just that: episodes that may add a little to the world-building but not so much to the plot or character development. (The chapter "The Sacrificial Stone" comes to mind; creepy, but no further relevance except so far as it reflects the overall theme. It actually stands out because she does such a good job of making other seemingly unimportant details tie in to the plot later.)
I admit, a bit before the ending I thought to myself "This is Norse-inspired, it's not going to end well, is it?" and was (bittersweetly) surprised. (IMPORTANT NOTE, avoid Farmer's blog if you don't like spoilers; she answers a question about what actually happened at the end although I find myself disagreeing with her interpretation.)
So why did I love these books? Honestly, by the end of the first book (which is a pretty good adventure in itself; in fact, all three books could probably stand on their own, but will spoil events from previous books), Thorgil had stolen my heart. The story is nominally about Jack, a young Saxon, who is apprenticed to a Bard who showed up in his village several years before the story begins and started giving orders. As often happens in stories, Things Go Wrong. Jack is kidnapped by Northman berserkers, ends up on a quest, and so on. Along the way he meets Thorgil, a "wannabe berserker" (description straight from the cast of characters) around his age who hates Jack but is also straightforward, loyal and even kind, as long as no one is watching. The wicked sense of humor doesn't hurt, either.
The thing I found most troubling is the statement (and what happens in the plot backs it up) that you get the afterlife you expect. Berserkers end up in Valhalla, druids and heroes to the Islands of the Blessed, Christians in heaven, and so on. There's also a lot of "Christian magic" which, of course, is not much different from any other magic. (The book credits this mostly to Sts. Patrick, Columba and so on who, we're told, were also druids.)
Still, I'd love to see the further adventures of these characters. Whether it will happen is anyone's guess (the third book isn't selling too well, apparently) but even without a continuation these three make up quite a good adventure with deeper themes, history, well-done humor (it relieves tense moments without making them seem frivolous or unimportant) and great characters. There are a few plot holes (the beginning of the second book rather jars with the character development at the end of the first) but it's a lot of fun.
Oh, Thorgil.
These books actually remind me of Juliet Marillier's in atmosphere, but are somewhat cheerier and quite a bit more action driven. I was actually surprised when I got to the end that Farmer fit so many different episodes into three books, though some of them are just that: episodes that may add a little to the world-building but not so much to the plot or character development. (The chapter "The Sacrificial Stone" comes to mind; creepy, but no further relevance except so far as it reflects the overall theme. It actually stands out because she does such a good job of making other seemingly unimportant details tie in to the plot later.)
I admit, a bit before the ending I thought to myself "This is Norse-inspired, it's not going to end well, is it?" and was (bittersweetly) surprised. (IMPORTANT NOTE, avoid Farmer's blog if you don't like spoilers; she answers a question about what actually happened at the end although I find myself disagreeing with her interpretation.)
So why did I love these books? Honestly, by the end of the first book (which is a pretty good adventure in itself; in fact, all three books could probably stand on their own, but will spoil events from previous books), Thorgil had stolen my heart. The story is nominally about Jack, a young Saxon, who is apprenticed to a Bard who showed up in his village several years before the story begins and started giving orders. As often happens in stories, Things Go Wrong. Jack is kidnapped by Northman berserkers, ends up on a quest, and so on. Along the way he meets Thorgil, a "wannabe berserker" (description straight from the cast of characters) around his age who hates Jack but is also straightforward, loyal and even kind, as long as no one is watching. The wicked sense of humor doesn't hurt, either.
The thing I found most troubling is the statement (and what happens in the plot backs it up) that you get the afterlife you expect. Berserkers end up in Valhalla, druids and heroes to the Islands of the Blessed, Christians in heaven, and so on. There's also a lot of "Christian magic" which, of course, is not much different from any other magic. (The book credits this mostly to Sts. Patrick, Columba and so on who, we're told, were also druids.)
Still, I'd love to see the further adventures of these characters. Whether it will happen is anyone's guess (the third book isn't selling too well, apparently) but even without a continuation these three make up quite a good adventure with deeper themes, history, well-done humor (it relieves tense moments without making them seem frivolous or unimportant) and great characters. There are a few plot holes (the beginning of the second book rather jars with the character development at the end of the first) but it's a lot of fun.
Saturday, May 01, 2010
Up and Foreshadowing
I saw Pixar's Up for the first time last night. I think it's a pretty good example of using foreshadowing (and repetition) without destroying tension.
Stop reading now if you want to avoid spoilers; I'm going to go through some of my observations about it.
First, my expectations worked against me at the beginning with the short black and white film. I've seen a number of Pixar's other films in the past (I think the only one I've missed is Cars) and most or all of them are packaged with a short film that precedes the main feature. So, I watched this one without expecting it to be connected to the main story until it transitioned abruptly into color.
I also noticed how many important things are repeated, setting up a rhythm and an expectation of rhythm.
1. At the end of the short film, the narrator states that the hunter promised to return. The hunter then immediately repeats that promise in his own words. You expect him to be back.
2. Carl appears with a balloon in hand, setting up the element of balloons.
I thought Carl and Ellie's story was a great example of economical storytelling. No shot is wasted and there are very few words.
3. The leaf blower and retirement home brochure shows up. By this point you might have started expecting the things that show up to show up again...
4. The scout kid shows up, repeatedly, and is summarily dismissed to look for a legendary bird.
5. The retirement home shows up again...
6. ... and the balloons.
7. Once Carl was in the air, I asked, "But where's the kid?" He shows up, of course, and his entrance is later repeated by another character.
8. The GPS had to go as soon as the kid said "With this, we'll never be lost!" This doesn't show up again, unlike most of the other things in the movie. The kid never uses his trumpet or half of his other scout stuff, either.
9. The kid finds the legendary bird (or it finds him).
10. When dogs show up, you know for sure the hunter is still around, and stubborn and creepy to boot. (Who gives dogs collars that let them talk, especially such a large pack of dogs? The way they serve him later, it's like they take the place of people in his life. Given their slavish obedience to their master, it's no wonder he's grown (more) deranged.)
11. The squirrel gag is important later.
12. The hunter is back. I think one of the dogs in the crowd even said "You're our guests now, temporarily!"
13. The cone of shame. Funny thing about the dogs' collars: they seemed to have GPS on them. Did the hunter occasionally leave to buy more current technology, or did he have those 50-70 years ago? (Considering GPS didn't exist back then, this may be a little plot hole.) On the other hand, he was established as a genius (or thief) already for inventing the talking collars, so he could have invented his own version of the technology.
14. The hall of trophies. The bird has a good reason to dislike the hunter.
15. Another throwaway remark, as far as I could tell: the hunter says those who go into the labyrinth that is the bird's home never return. I wasn't sure if he was talking about people or dogs but I thought this was more a statement on unknown dangers there than foreshadowing of his own character, who shortly proceeds to death threats. It doesn't seem to fit by the end of the movie unless we take it that way, though.
16. I don't remember whether this is before or after the hunter, but Carl's hope that the scout kid won't notice the bird is gone, and said scout IMMEDIATELY waking up and saying "Where's the bird? Oh no, he's lost," etc.
17. They get the house to Paradise Falls, positioned exactly where it was in Ellie's picture.
18. The leaf blower returns!
19. The biplane as they're entering the airship the second time is shown for maybe 5 seconds, but I expected it to play a role.
I don't have many ideas about the fight scene. Maybe it's just a fight scene? It is pretty funny when Carl spits out his dentures on command.
20. The cone of shame returns.
21. Carl's house is ditched the same way his possessions were. (From the end of the movie, it seems it ended up next to Paradise Falls again; I'm not sure how, with the airship traveling fairly quickly.)
22. Carl gets the blimp. Didn't Ellie make him promise to bring her in one at the beginning?
23. The scout kid ends up on the curb eating ice cream and watching cars with Carl in place of the kid's dad.
When the scout kid initially showed up, I thought the guy who wanted to buy Carl's house had sent him or maybe even was his dad, but there doesn't seem to be any evidence of a connection there.
Thoughts?
Stop reading now if you want to avoid spoilers; I'm going to go through some of my observations about it.
First, my expectations worked against me at the beginning with the short black and white film. I've seen a number of Pixar's other films in the past (I think the only one I've missed is Cars) and most or all of them are packaged with a short film that precedes the main feature. So, I watched this one without expecting it to be connected to the main story until it transitioned abruptly into color.
I also noticed how many important things are repeated, setting up a rhythm and an expectation of rhythm.
1. At the end of the short film, the narrator states that the hunter promised to return. The hunter then immediately repeats that promise in his own words. You expect him to be back.
2. Carl appears with a balloon in hand, setting up the element of balloons.
I thought Carl and Ellie's story was a great example of economical storytelling. No shot is wasted and there are very few words.
3. The leaf blower and retirement home brochure shows up. By this point you might have started expecting the things that show up to show up again...
4. The scout kid shows up, repeatedly, and is summarily dismissed to look for a legendary bird.
5. The retirement home shows up again...
6. ... and the balloons.
7. Once Carl was in the air, I asked, "But where's the kid?" He shows up, of course, and his entrance is later repeated by another character.
8. The GPS had to go as soon as the kid said "With this, we'll never be lost!" This doesn't show up again, unlike most of the other things in the movie. The kid never uses his trumpet or half of his other scout stuff, either.
9. The kid finds the legendary bird (or it finds him).
10. When dogs show up, you know for sure the hunter is still around, and stubborn and creepy to boot. (Who gives dogs collars that let them talk, especially such a large pack of dogs? The way they serve him later, it's like they take the place of people in his life. Given their slavish obedience to their master, it's no wonder he's grown (more) deranged.)
11. The squirrel gag is important later.
12. The hunter is back. I think one of the dogs in the crowd even said "You're our guests now, temporarily!"
13. The cone of shame. Funny thing about the dogs' collars: they seemed to have GPS on them. Did the hunter occasionally leave to buy more current technology, or did he have those 50-70 years ago? (Considering GPS didn't exist back then, this may be a little plot hole.) On the other hand, he was established as a genius (or thief) already for inventing the talking collars, so he could have invented his own version of the technology.
14. The hall of trophies. The bird has a good reason to dislike the hunter.
15. Another throwaway remark, as far as I could tell: the hunter says those who go into the labyrinth that is the bird's home never return. I wasn't sure if he was talking about people or dogs but I thought this was more a statement on unknown dangers there than foreshadowing of his own character, who shortly proceeds to death threats. It doesn't seem to fit by the end of the movie unless we take it that way, though.
16. I don't remember whether this is before or after the hunter, but Carl's hope that the scout kid won't notice the bird is gone, and said scout IMMEDIATELY waking up and saying "Where's the bird? Oh no, he's lost," etc.
17. They get the house to Paradise Falls, positioned exactly where it was in Ellie's picture.
18. The leaf blower returns!
19. The biplane as they're entering the airship the second time is shown for maybe 5 seconds, but I expected it to play a role.
I don't have many ideas about the fight scene. Maybe it's just a fight scene? It is pretty funny when Carl spits out his dentures on command.
20. The cone of shame returns.
21. Carl's house is ditched the same way his possessions were. (From the end of the movie, it seems it ended up next to Paradise Falls again; I'm not sure how, with the airship traveling fairly quickly.)
22. Carl gets the blimp. Didn't Ellie make him promise to bring her in one at the beginning?
23. The scout kid ends up on the curb eating ice cream and watching cars with Carl in place of the kid's dad.
When the scout kid initially showed up, I thought the guy who wanted to buy Carl's house had sent him or maybe even was his dad, but there doesn't seem to be any evidence of a connection there.
Thoughts?
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Sneak preview?
In case I don't muster up a respectable post later, or feel differently...
Right now (~1/3 of the way through with some skipping of awkward bits that I should go back and read) I love this book:
Why?
1. Romance. Chapter 1 is great if you've read the previous book (Spell Hunter aka Knife).
2. Adventure and excitement! Or, if you prefer, you get to read about other people suffering adventure and excitement while you are cozily reading.
3. A certain scene with a gun.
4. Characters with real faith and real doubts.
5. So far the main characters complement each other very well: they each have their own strengths and weaknesses. This is a big relief from certain other popular books where there's been a huge imbalance of power. And it looks from a distance like they might be just friends instead of a romantic pairing. I love reading about good friendships and people who don't need to fill up silence with words, because they're comfortable with each other.
6. I have a reasonable guess about who the bad guy is and can still happily assume I'm wrong, because I was so wrong in the first book. Whether my guess is right or wrong, either way it's a surprise.
7. The cover is a beautiful shade of reddish orange at the right angle. I don't think I quite got it in my photo.
Right now (~1/3 of the way through with some skipping of awkward bits that I should go back and read) I love this book:
Why?
1. Romance. Chapter 1 is great if you've read the previous book (Spell Hunter aka Knife).
2. Adventure and excitement! Or, if you prefer, you get to read about other people suffering adventure and excitement while you are cozily reading.
3. A certain scene with a gun.
4. Characters with real faith and real doubts.
5. So far the main characters complement each other very well: they each have their own strengths and weaknesses. This is a big relief from certain other popular books where there's been a huge imbalance of power. And it looks from a distance like they might be just friends instead of a romantic pairing. I love reading about good friendships and people who don't need to fill up silence with words, because they're comfortable with each other.
6. I have a reasonable guess about who the bad guy is and can still happily assume I'm wrong, because I was so wrong in the first book. Whether my guess is right or wrong, either way it's a surprise.
7. The cover is a beautiful shade of reddish orange at the right angle. I don't think I quite got it in my photo.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Gone away
Books just aren't grabbing me the same way anymore. I end up regretting half the ones I read now. The other half I don't have much to say about. (In the last two months I've read Silksinger, Forest Born, Ice, Liar, Fire, The Maze Runner, Nation, Good Girls, Warbreaker, The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen, Donut Days, Secrets of Truth and Beauty, and Philippa Fisher's Fairy Godsister, and reread Blackbringer (which I still thought was good)). I guess this is a drawn-out way to say not to expect much more here, not that you do.
I spent some time in Bangladesh recently and it's safe to say my perspective has shifted. There's so many real and eternal things to invest in that losing myself in a fantasy doesn't appeal much anymore. I think the right kind of book can shed light on this world (I recognized many of my emotions in the main character of Forest Born, for example) but others, the kind that focus on shock and horror and other evils, have lost their attraction.
I may post here again if I find a book particularly worth mentioning, or I might turn it into a more general blog. Not sure yet.
Here's a quick run-down of the books mentioned:
Silksinger. I loved Whisper's power and the adventure was exciting but it kept getting darker and by the end I felt like I had been drinking poison.
Forest Born. I didn't exactly love it but I want to read it again: it's a quiet kind of book that I think will grow on me some more.
Ice. This is the last one I read. I was extremely impressed by the pacing: Durst drops new revelations at exactly the right times near the beginning, and it only speeds up from there. It also has a pretty good mix of fairy tale atmosphere and modern sensibility (the main character is the daughter of an Arctic researcher).
Liar. The craft this book must have taken is impressive but in the end, it feels like you know less than you did when you started. I knew enough to expect it going in, but maybe I'm cynical.
Fire. Don't know if I'll read another book by her. A third with a main character like the ones in her first two would be too much for me. This one also seems darker than the first.
The Maze Runner. Very like The Hunger Games in terms of excitement but I thought it took too long for the eventual payoff ("End of book one" and very few answers) and was darker than justified. "Dark, edgy and realistic" must be in these days.
Nation. Oooh... I liked this one quite a lot, except for the ending. Pratchett's humor works places other than the Discworld, but in this one it acts as leavening instead of being the main course.
Good Girls. Yuck.
Warbreaker. Some interesting ideas and exciting action sequences, but the characters didn't stand out a lot.
The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen. I don't remember Changeling very well but I think this was a little more of the same: Neef and co. managing geniuses. (She makes friends at the changeling school, including Tiffany (later known as Woolworth).)
Donut Days. I'm not sure I read the whole thing but if I did, I barely remember it. Controversy erupts over a prophecy and the main character's mother preaching. I liked the bikers a bit.
Secrets of Truth and Beauty. I blogged about this already.
Philippa Fisher's Fairy Godsister. Impulse read! I saw this at the bookstore, picked it up at the library, and enjoyed it a bit, but it's a very light read. Take it with a big grain of salt.
Blackbringer. I already blogged this one, too.
I spent some time in Bangladesh recently and it's safe to say my perspective has shifted. There's so many real and eternal things to invest in that losing myself in a fantasy doesn't appeal much anymore. I think the right kind of book can shed light on this world (I recognized many of my emotions in the main character of Forest Born, for example) but others, the kind that focus on shock and horror and other evils, have lost their attraction.
I may post here again if I find a book particularly worth mentioning, or I might turn it into a more general blog. Not sure yet.
Here's a quick run-down of the books mentioned:
Silksinger. I loved Whisper's power and the adventure was exciting but it kept getting darker and by the end I felt like I had been drinking poison.
Forest Born. I didn't exactly love it but I want to read it again: it's a quiet kind of book that I think will grow on me some more.
Ice. This is the last one I read. I was extremely impressed by the pacing: Durst drops new revelations at exactly the right times near the beginning, and it only speeds up from there. It also has a pretty good mix of fairy tale atmosphere and modern sensibility (the main character is the daughter of an Arctic researcher).
Liar. The craft this book must have taken is impressive but in the end, it feels like you know less than you did when you started. I knew enough to expect it going in, but maybe I'm cynical.
Fire. Don't know if I'll read another book by her. A third with a main character like the ones in her first two would be too much for me. This one also seems darker than the first.
The Maze Runner. Very like The Hunger Games in terms of excitement but I thought it took too long for the eventual payoff ("End of book one" and very few answers) and was darker than justified. "Dark, edgy and realistic" must be in these days.
Nation. Oooh... I liked this one quite a lot, except for the ending. Pratchett's humor works places other than the Discworld, but in this one it acts as leavening instead of being the main course.
Good Girls. Yuck.
Warbreaker. Some interesting ideas and exciting action sequences, but the characters didn't stand out a lot.
The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen. I don't remember Changeling very well but I think this was a little more of the same: Neef and co. managing geniuses. (She makes friends at the changeling school, including Tiffany (later known as Woolworth).)
Donut Days. I'm not sure I read the whole thing but if I did, I barely remember it. Controversy erupts over a prophecy and the main character's mother preaching. I liked the bikers a bit.
Secrets of Truth and Beauty. I blogged about this already.
Philippa Fisher's Fairy Godsister. Impulse read! I saw this at the bookstore, picked it up at the library, and enjoyed it a bit, but it's a very light read. Take it with a big grain of salt.
Blackbringer. I already blogged this one, too.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Dubious Hills questions
I was rereading The Dubious Hills (again) last night and wondered about some things I hadn't noticed before. I still think it's a really good book with a bittersweet (but open) ending.
These questions of mine are bound to be at least a little spoilery.
1. Why does Mally seem to give Arry particularly useless answers when everyone else seems to know what she says about everyone else? Does Mally think (know) it's better for Arry's character for her to search on her own, even though she never finds the answers, or is she just teasing her? Or are the questions Arry asks truly outside of Mally's province?
2. I noticed, perhaps for the first time, Halver's line about the intelligence being unable to make a choice. Every other time I've read the book I thought that Arry had good reasons for wanting to stay the way she was, but now I wonder how much truth was in what Halver said. Even the choice Arry makes at the end doesn't seem directly related to the choice Halver wanted her to make. On the other hand, it seems Halver made the choice he wants everyone else to make, so what he said can't be entirely true. What do the spells really do?
3. Presumably some explanation will be in the sequel (coming out sometime), but why did Arry's parents leave her? I really noticed this time, despite the way she sees herself (or at least the calm, in-control impression she gives from her narrative voice), she really seems to be only barely managing to take care of her little brother and sister.
4. Why is the doubt worse in the morning?
These questions of mine are bound to be at least a little spoilery.
1. Why does Mally seem to give Arry particularly useless answers when everyone else seems to know what she says about everyone else? Does Mally think (know) it's better for Arry's character for her to search on her own, even though she never finds the answers, or is she just teasing her? Or are the questions Arry asks truly outside of Mally's province?
2. I noticed, perhaps for the first time, Halver's line about the intelligence being unable to make a choice. Every other time I've read the book I thought that Arry had good reasons for wanting to stay the way she was, but now I wonder how much truth was in what Halver said. Even the choice Arry makes at the end doesn't seem directly related to the choice Halver wanted her to make. On the other hand, it seems Halver made the choice he wants everyone else to make, so what he said can't be entirely true. What do the spells really do?
3. Presumably some explanation will be in the sequel (coming out sometime), but why did Arry's parents leave her? I really noticed this time, despite the way she sees herself (or at least the calm, in-control impression she gives from her narrative voice), she really seems to be only barely managing to take care of her little brother and sister.
4. Why is the doubt worse in the morning?
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Quickies
Eyes Like Stars, by Lisa Mantchev. This is just about like R. J. Anderson says; Bertie has to come up with a reason she should be allowed to stay at the theater that's become her home (literally). There is some crude humor but not much that's truly objectionable (the hot tub scene probably crosses the line) and the book is funny despite it. I'll accept a lot if it's funny. Despite the first chapter (which I read online and said "meh" to) the book takes off quickly. One aspect to note is the dreamlike feel: one can accept the oddities of players but the motivations and actions of certain characters (particularly the Theater Manager) make less sense by the end of the book than they did at the beginning. Maybe this will be rectified in acts two and three.
Secrets of Truth and Beauty, by Megan Frazer. This is more a coming of age story than anything. Dara is pulled out of school by her parents over a misinterpreted English project (although who misinterpreted it is in question) and feels pushed to the breaking point. She decides to meet up with the sister she's never met. Goats ensue. (I am not kidding.) Also the usual working through difficult relationship issues with other people stuff. Dara has a lot of things going for her (boldness, persistence, long-ago dance lessons, a great singing voice) but really doesn't know how to deal with her parents or her sister. The book does have an emphasis on homosexuality (in other characters) which, although I liked the characters for other reasons, might be offensive.
Wintergirls, by Laurie Halse Anderson. Super intense, maybe supernatural, maybe not. It's indisputable that Lia has an eating problem. This is a gripping read but not light reading.
The Princess and the Bear, by Mette Ivie Harrison. I liked this better than The Princess and the Hound (I think there was more character stupidity in that one), probably because of the romantic aspect, but the prose still felt clumsy at times. You don't really have to have read the other to enjoy this although a basic idea of what happened might be useful.
Do Hard Things, by Alex and Brett Harris. I just started reading this but so far I agree with it to a remarkable degree. The basic idea is that teens fulfill expectations. Since we don't expect much of them in our culture, most waste incredible potential in their teen years which could be used to set a direction for the rest of their lives. I've thought for a long time that people should grow up (I would say sooner, but I think there are some who never grow up), myself included. The rest of the book is apparently (not having read it yet) a roadmap to doing hard things.
Secrets of Truth and Beauty, by Megan Frazer. This is more a coming of age story than anything. Dara is pulled out of school by her parents over a misinterpreted English project (although who misinterpreted it is in question) and feels pushed to the breaking point. She decides to meet up with the sister she's never met. Goats ensue. (I am not kidding.) Also the usual working through difficult relationship issues with other people stuff. Dara has a lot of things going for her (boldness, persistence, long-ago dance lessons, a great singing voice) but really doesn't know how to deal with her parents or her sister. The book does have an emphasis on homosexuality (in other characters) which, although I liked the characters for other reasons, might be offensive.
Wintergirls, by Laurie Halse Anderson. Super intense, maybe supernatural, maybe not. It's indisputable that Lia has an eating problem. This is a gripping read but not light reading.
The Princess and the Bear, by Mette Ivie Harrison. I liked this better than The Princess and the Hound (I think there was more character stupidity in that one), probably because of the romantic aspect, but the prose still felt clumsy at times. You don't really have to have read the other to enjoy this although a basic idea of what happened might be useful.
Do Hard Things, by Alex and Brett Harris. I just started reading this but so far I agree with it to a remarkable degree. The basic idea is that teens fulfill expectations. Since we don't expect much of them in our culture, most waste incredible potential in their teen years which could be used to set a direction for the rest of their lives. I've thought for a long time that people should grow up (I would say sooner, but I think there are some who never grow up), myself included. The rest of the book is apparently (not having read it yet) a roadmap to doing hard things.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Prospero Lost
By L. Jagi Lamplighter.
So Miranda Prospero, daughter of Prospero, Dread Magician (you know the one), is sitting in her study, minding her own business, when she receives a message from her father saying that her whole family is in great danger and that she should warn her brothers (and sister). Well, actually, she's not really minding her own business since she finds the message in one of her father's journals.
I think this is a very well written book, not only because of the descriptions and characters and pacing, but because of how it works on multiple levels. Superficially, it's a combination adventure-mystery with Miranda working to find her siblings and figure out what's going on. At a deeper level, it would be very hard to miss the theme of slavery and freedom. Not only is her father responsible for keeping an entire race in slavery, Miranda herself is extraordinarily obedient to his wishes, though whether supernaturally so is up for debate. (Barely. Several characters suggest the latter, and she does at least one thing which is extremely hard to accept otherwise.) While most of the characters are not exactly well-rounded, this seems to be more a family flaw than anything else: it is readily apparent to this reader, though perhaps not to Miranda, that her family's troubles have been building for several hundred years.
To put it plainly, they are deeply twisted. Mephisto is mad (maybe), Theo is sad and the rest are like selfish children. Despite Miranda's age, neither she nor the rest seem to have grown up much. She herself doesn't recognize empathy when it hits her (several times: "How strange! I had never before made the error of mistaking another person for myself" -- or words to that effect). Not that she's wicked, but naive and devoted to her family, and callous towards people she doesn't know, at least initially.
I wish I could say I loved it but since this is only the first part of three, I'm afraid of how the trilogy will end. This book certainly didn't end how I hoped it would, although the ending it does have seems strangely inevitable in retrospect. In addition, Miranda's world (or at least her own beliefs) seem to be Gnostic in nature, which I found quite disturbing when touted as truth -- at least the truth of her world.
I really did enjoy this story but it does end on a suspended note and has some disturbing elements. That said, I still think it has quite a bit of merit and I recommend it pending the release of the second and third volumes. And Mab is a great character.
So Miranda Prospero, daughter of Prospero, Dread Magician (you know the one), is sitting in her study, minding her own business, when she receives a message from her father saying that her whole family is in great danger and that she should warn her brothers (and sister). Well, actually, she's not really minding her own business since she finds the message in one of her father's journals.
I think this is a very well written book, not only because of the descriptions and characters and pacing, but because of how it works on multiple levels. Superficially, it's a combination adventure-mystery with Miranda working to find her siblings and figure out what's going on. At a deeper level, it would be very hard to miss the theme of slavery and freedom. Not only is her father responsible for keeping an entire race in slavery, Miranda herself is extraordinarily obedient to his wishes, though whether supernaturally so is up for debate. (Barely. Several characters suggest the latter, and she does at least one thing which is extremely hard to accept otherwise.) While most of the characters are not exactly well-rounded, this seems to be more a family flaw than anything else: it is readily apparent to this reader, though perhaps not to Miranda, that her family's troubles have been building for several hundred years.
To put it plainly, they are deeply twisted. Mephisto is mad (maybe), Theo is sad and the rest are like selfish children. Despite Miranda's age, neither she nor the rest seem to have grown up much. She herself doesn't recognize empathy when it hits her (several times: "How strange! I had never before made the error of mistaking another person for myself" -- or words to that effect). Not that she's wicked, but naive and devoted to her family, and callous towards people she doesn't know, at least initially.
I wish I could say I loved it but since this is only the first part of three, I'm afraid of how the trilogy will end. This book certainly didn't end how I hoped it would, although the ending it does have seems strangely inevitable in retrospect. In addition, Miranda's world (or at least her own beliefs) seem to be Gnostic in nature, which I found quite disturbing when touted as truth -- at least the truth of her world.
I really did enjoy this story but it does end on a suspended note and has some disturbing elements. That said, I still think it has quite a bit of merit and I recommend it pending the release of the second and third volumes. And Mab is a great character.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Doomsday Book
By Connie Willis.
I should probably say up front that I liked Eifelheim better. More about that in a bit.
This book is about a determined young student who manages to convince... someone... that she should be allowed to travel to the 14th century. Of course, you know from the beginning that it can only go downhill from there...
What I liked: As a disaster story, it's not much good if you don't care about the characters. The problem is that I didn't care much about the modern characters, only the medieval ones (and Kivrin and maybe Mr. Dunworthy). Despite all the things I didn't like, it's quite readable. You get history as part of the deal.
What I didn't like: It's a disaster story, and it's depressing. The end isn't any kind of triumph, just survival. Too many characters are introduced too quickly which makes it a little hard to keep track of who's who and who's important. The Middle English dialogue is just short of impenetrable but fortunately you get to read it in translation after a little while. The theology is heretical or worse (Dunworthy thinks that God wouldn't have sent his son if he had known what would happen, and that he didn't stop it because he couldn't). On the trivial side, the phones seem very dated next to a future that has time travel and (kind of) advanced medicine.
It's inevitable that Eifelheim is compared to this book. They both involve parallel stories between the present (or future) and the Middle Ages. There is also a priest in both who turns out to be a good guy (the one in Doomsday Book isn't nearly as intellectual but he has a servant's heart). Eifelheim, though, seems to go somewhere with the story, while the characters in Doomsday Book end up almost where they started, perhaps slightly wiser, but really just alive. (Except for the ones who die.)
I should probably say up front that I liked Eifelheim better. More about that in a bit.
This book is about a determined young student who manages to convince... someone... that she should be allowed to travel to the 14th century. Of course, you know from the beginning that it can only go downhill from there...
What I liked: As a disaster story, it's not much good if you don't care about the characters. The problem is that I didn't care much about the modern characters, only the medieval ones (and Kivrin and maybe Mr. Dunworthy). Despite all the things I didn't like, it's quite readable. You get history as part of the deal.
What I didn't like: It's a disaster story, and it's depressing. The end isn't any kind of triumph, just survival. Too many characters are introduced too quickly which makes it a little hard to keep track of who's who and who's important. The Middle English dialogue is just short of impenetrable but fortunately you get to read it in translation after a little while. The theology is heretical or worse (Dunworthy thinks that God wouldn't have sent his son if he had known what would happen, and that he didn't stop it because he couldn't). On the trivial side, the phones seem very dated next to a future that has time travel and (kind of) advanced medicine.
It's inevitable that Eifelheim is compared to this book. They both involve parallel stories between the present (or future) and the Middle Ages. There is also a priest in both who turns out to be a good guy (the one in Doomsday Book isn't nearly as intellectual but he has a servant's heart). Eifelheim, though, seems to go somewhere with the story, while the characters in Doomsday Book end up almost where they started, perhaps slightly wiser, but really just alive. (Except for the ones who die.)
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Wings
By Aprilynne Pike.
The first time I picked this book up, I put it down again because of the uninspiring description, which ended: "... everything you thought you knew about faeries will be changed forever." I figured if the book was really special, they would have been able to highlight something more intriguing than that vague promise.
The second time, I decided to give it a chance and started reading. I enjoyed seeing the little mysteries surrounding Laurel and was particularly amused by her brand of denial. I also liked how she develops friendships, with her friends helping to draw her out of seclusion.
You should be able to guess what I didn't like. (Ask if you want to know.) It also seemed to force the plot slightly, answering some questions in an entirely unsatisfactory manner. I also didn't like the name dropping scene near the middle: it wasn't nearly as convincing as the process of discovery Laurel goes through before and after that point.
Overall? I ended up enjoying this quite a bit more than I expected when I first saw it, but will still be hesitant about picking up the sequels. (Four books are planned for the series.)
And now a plug for the 2009 Debutantes: As you may have noticed, quite a few of the books I've read this year have been gleaned from this LiveJournal community for debut young adult and middle grade authors. Not only is it a great way to find new authors (there's also a 2010 community), these books often lack many of the elements I find unpalatable in "adult" books. The downside is that, being debuts, you generally have to wait a year to read another book by any of them. Take a look at their books.
The first time I picked this book up, I put it down again because of the uninspiring description, which ended: "... everything you thought you knew about faeries will be changed forever." I figured if the book was really special, they would have been able to highlight something more intriguing than that vague promise.
The second time, I decided to give it a chance and started reading. I enjoyed seeing the little mysteries surrounding Laurel and was particularly amused by her brand of denial. I also liked how she develops friendships, with her friends helping to draw her out of seclusion.
You should be able to guess what I didn't like. (Ask if you want to know.) It also seemed to force the plot slightly, answering some questions in an entirely unsatisfactory manner. I also didn't like the name dropping scene near the middle: it wasn't nearly as convincing as the process of discovery Laurel goes through before and after that point.
Overall? I ended up enjoying this quite a bit more than I expected when I first saw it, but will still be hesitant about picking up the sequels. (Four books are planned for the series.)
And now a plug for the 2009 Debutantes: As you may have noticed, quite a few of the books I've read this year have been gleaned from this LiveJournal community for debut young adult and middle grade authors. Not only is it a great way to find new authors (there's also a 2010 community), these books often lack many of the elements I find unpalatable in "adult" books. The downside is that, being debuts, you generally have to wait a year to read another book by any of them. Take a look at their books.
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Dull Boy
By Sarah Cross.
Avery is a super-powered teen struggling to fit in and avoid the dissection table.
What I liked: The plot is not really the strong point here. The strong points are the characters and humor. This book is hilarious. The interaction between Avery, Darla and Catherine is golden and the other characters are pretty good too.
What I didn't like: I was laughing too hard to care much at the time, but all the parents in this book look stupid or abusive or both. There's definitely a sense of isolation forced on the characters: parents are not sympathetic; Avery has non-super "friends" but they never even make an appearance; almost everyone either has no siblings or is distant from them. It helps to force the characters together as a group but, as with the parents, it doesn't really seem likely that no one "outside" would ever catch on. (There are, admittedly, suggestions that the story could go this way if there's ever a sequel.)
There is also a lot of lying on the part of the protagonists and some strong language.
I'd definitely recommend this for the humor but take the morals with a grain of salt.
Avery is a super-powered teen struggling to fit in and avoid the dissection table.
What I liked: The plot is not really the strong point here. The strong points are the characters and humor. This book is hilarious. The interaction between Avery, Darla and Catherine is golden and the other characters are pretty good too.
What I didn't like: I was laughing too hard to care much at the time, but all the parents in this book look stupid or abusive or both. There's definitely a sense of isolation forced on the characters: parents are not sympathetic; Avery has non-super "friends" but they never even make an appearance; almost everyone either has no siblings or is distant from them. It helps to force the characters together as a group but, as with the parents, it doesn't really seem likely that no one "outside" would ever catch on. (There are, admittedly, suggestions that the story could go this way if there's ever a sequel.)
There is also a lot of lying on the part of the protagonists and some strong language.
I'd definitely recommend this for the humor but take the morals with a grain of salt.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Reading between the lines
Ambiguity. Some books have it, others don't. There are places where something is omitted but you can easily fill in what happened, and there are others where you can't be as sure. Some examples (these may contain mild spoilers):
"The Lady or the Tiger?" If you haven't read this, go do it now. It ends with a classic cliffhanger. This is the type where you have to decide what happened yourself.
Alphabet of Thorn (Patricia McKillip). Nepenthe*'s real name is important to the plot, but the book never spells out what her name actually is. For that reason this is the first and last McKillip book my sister read; she couldn't stand not having every detail revealed. Almost every book has some loose threads, but not usually something that says so clearly, "I will never tell you."
Laurie King's Mary Russell books**. Aside from plot points, there's a stylistic technique here where one character has a long paragraph of dialogue and you have to fill in other characters' responses from what the single character says. This is usually fine and cuts down on tedium when you know what the responses are, but sometimes it leaves you wondering.
So: what are your favorite examples? When does the art of omission drive you crazy, and when does it make a book (nearly) perfect?
* Nepenthe is related somehow to opium, I believe.
** These are strangely addictive: I'm in the middle of my fifth one and I couldn't tell you why I keep reading them, except that for some reason I really want to find out what happens.
"The Lady or the Tiger?" If you haven't read this, go do it now. It ends with a classic cliffhanger. This is the type where you have to decide what happened yourself.
Alphabet of Thorn (Patricia McKillip). Nepenthe*'s real name is important to the plot, but the book never spells out what her name actually is. For that reason this is the first and last McKillip book my sister read; she couldn't stand not having every detail revealed. Almost every book has some loose threads, but not usually something that says so clearly, "I will never tell you."
Laurie King's Mary Russell books**. Aside from plot points, there's a stylistic technique here where one character has a long paragraph of dialogue and you have to fill in other characters' responses from what the single character says. This is usually fine and cuts down on tedium when you know what the responses are, but sometimes it leaves you wondering.
So: what are your favorite examples? When does the art of omission drive you crazy, and when does it make a book (nearly) perfect?
* Nepenthe is related somehow to opium, I believe.
** These are strangely addictive: I'm in the middle of my fifth one and I couldn't tell you why I keep reading them, except that for some reason I really want to find out what happens.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Childbook Reading, part 3
If you happen to know or suspect what any of the unnamed books in this post are or who they're by, I would love to know.
The Hardy Boys. I read far too many of these, along with some Nancy Drew and Tom Swift, before realizing a deadly secret: they're all the same.
Pineapple Place. I remember little about this other than the name. When I checked recently, only the sequel was still in the library system.
Those Morgana books. I don't remember the title or author, but some children stumble upon a house full of mirrors. When a spell involving moonlight is worked, the mirrors became portals to another world, with the nice touch that on the other side you would appear however your reflection did here. Magic, originally contained in gemstones (if I recall), had been divided up into staffs of different ranks. There was a nasty game of questions in a dark basement. Someone is killed by shattering a mirror as he was passing through it. And one of the girls becomes Morgana's apprentice.
These books were really quite dark. I suspect I stopped reading them more or less intentionally, which is probably why I can't find them again now. Do I really want to? (This was probably somewhere between 3rd and 5th grade.)
Goosebumps. I also consider this wasted time now, although I suppose I know I don't like horror. I had a friend in second grade who had practically all of them and lent them to me.
Asimov, Norby and sequels. Who can forget this cute barrel shaped robot, hyperspace, ancient aliens named after Renaissance painters, and alternate universes? Probably my first sci fi.
Another unnamed book about a girl who was turned to stone either at the beginning or end. I think she was accepting of it which made it merely melancholy instead of terrible. There may have been a smog monster involved but I suspect I got it confused with another book.
Another unnamed book about some kids who fight aliens who have no creativity. There's a magic remote and Baba Yaga, too! I think the title was an acronym but I'm not sure exactly what it was. Something about geeks or nerds saving earth? The aliens may have been shaped like trash cans but that doesn't seem quite right.
The Falcon and the Serpent, by Cheryl A. Smith. Someone is stealing the souls of a kingdom's children: they go to sleep and never wake up. I particularly remember the trap set for the protagonist: he must choose to die for what he believes or, avoiding death, spurn his beliefs. From what I recall, this book had enough threads in the background that there could easily have been more set in this world, but Google finds nothing.
The Hardy Boys. I read far too many of these, along with some Nancy Drew and Tom Swift, before realizing a deadly secret: they're all the same.
Pineapple Place. I remember little about this other than the name. When I checked recently, only the sequel was still in the library system.
Those Morgana books. I don't remember the title or author, but some children stumble upon a house full of mirrors. When a spell involving moonlight is worked, the mirrors became portals to another world, with the nice touch that on the other side you would appear however your reflection did here. Magic, originally contained in gemstones (if I recall), had been divided up into staffs of different ranks. There was a nasty game of questions in a dark basement. Someone is killed by shattering a mirror as he was passing through it. And one of the girls becomes Morgana's apprentice.
These books were really quite dark. I suspect I stopped reading them more or less intentionally, which is probably why I can't find them again now. Do I really want to? (This was probably somewhere between 3rd and 5th grade.)
Goosebumps. I also consider this wasted time now, although I suppose I know I don't like horror. I had a friend in second grade who had practically all of them and lent them to me.
Asimov, Norby and sequels. Who can forget this cute barrel shaped robot, hyperspace, ancient aliens named after Renaissance painters, and alternate universes? Probably my first sci fi.
Another unnamed book about a girl who was turned to stone either at the beginning or end. I think she was accepting of it which made it merely melancholy instead of terrible. There may have been a smog monster involved but I suspect I got it confused with another book.
Another unnamed book about some kids who fight aliens who have no creativity. There's a magic remote and Baba Yaga, too! I think the title was an acronym but I'm not sure exactly what it was. Something about geeks or nerds saving earth? The aliens may have been shaped like trash cans but that doesn't seem quite right.
The Falcon and the Serpent, by Cheryl A. Smith. Someone is stealing the souls of a kingdom's children: they go to sleep and never wake up. I particularly remember the trap set for the protagonist: he must choose to die for what he believes or, avoiding death, spurn his beliefs. From what I recall, this book had enough threads in the background that there could easily have been more set in this world, but Google finds nothing.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
The Hunger Games
By Suzanne Collins.
Probably anyone reading this has already heard of this book, but just in case: Katniss is a girl (17) struggling to feed her family in a world dominated by televised atrocities. This is reality TV turned into a weapon: Every year, 12 of the 13 Districts outlying the Capitol of Panem (the remains of North America, we are told) are forced to send two of its children to compete in a fight to the death. As you may have guessed, Katniss is one of those sent.
The outstanding characteristic of this book is tension. Good or bad, this is an intense story, at least until suspension of disbelief fails. (In particular, I'm dubious about the speed with which a certain poison acts.)
What I liked: I must admit, tension made the book an incredible pageturner, even after I skipped to the end and started reading backwards. I also liked the suggestion of hidden mysteries, Cinna and the anonymous redhead in particular. It took me a while to realize what went along with the numerous Roman names in the story. (I wonder how significant the names are: there are several characters I would have placed on the "bad" side who don't have Roman names, and one who has a plant name. What might the redhead's name reveal?)
What I didn't like: The ending seemed contrived. Also, I didn't like Katniss very much: she thinks she understands the Games since she's seen them all her life, but she is naive about people. The real problem might be that her tough act seems too real. The Games themselves are a little too evil. Is there really no one who would refuse to participate, even if it means dying? (A comparison to the Roman colosseum is inevitable. Actually, reading that article shows even more parallels than I thought.)
In the end? Often horrifying, but certainly not dull.
Probably anyone reading this has already heard of this book, but just in case: Katniss is a girl (17) struggling to feed her family in a world dominated by televised atrocities. This is reality TV turned into a weapon: Every year, 12 of the 13 Districts outlying the Capitol of Panem (the remains of North America, we are told) are forced to send two of its children to compete in a fight to the death. As you may have guessed, Katniss is one of those sent.
The outstanding characteristic of this book is tension. Good or bad, this is an intense story, at least until suspension of disbelief fails. (In particular, I'm dubious about the speed with which a certain poison acts.)
What I liked: I must admit, tension made the book an incredible pageturner, even after I skipped to the end and started reading backwards. I also liked the suggestion of hidden mysteries, Cinna and the anonymous redhead in particular. It took me a while to realize what went along with the numerous Roman names in the story. (I wonder how significant the names are: there are several characters I would have placed on the "bad" side who don't have Roman names, and one who has a plant name. What might the redhead's name reveal?)
What I didn't like: The ending seemed contrived. Also, I didn't like Katniss very much: she thinks she understands the Games since she's seen them all her life, but she is naive about people. The real problem might be that her tough act seems too real. The Games themselves are a little too evil. Is there really no one who would refuse to participate, even if it means dying? (A comparison to the Roman colosseum is inevitable. Actually, reading that article shows even more parallels than I thought.)
In the end? Often horrifying, but certainly not dull.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Half Magic
By Edward Eager.
I'd better write something about this right now, or I'll never get to it.
First off: I wish I hadn't read the back cover before starting this. You find out what's going on so quickly anyway that I think it would have been more fun to guess it.
This is quite a fun story overall: four siblings find something magic, and growth results. I laughed at quite a few things that I'm sure I would have missed when I was younger. (I don't remember reading this at all before so I probably didn't. But then again, I remember reading Nesbit even though I can no longer recall anything that happened.) The prose isn't flowery but it gets the job done quite well enough.
The one really jarring note was when the children felt it would be somehow wrong to do magic on Sunday, and proceeded to play the rest of the day. No mention was made of church, or the Lord's day, or even a day of rest. Did they intuit some moral subconsciously? I'm having a hard time thinking of other reasons it could have been wrong.
Overall, this was quite a clever, if light, read.
I'd better write something about this right now, or I'll never get to it.
First off: I wish I hadn't read the back cover before starting this. You find out what's going on so quickly anyway that I think it would have been more fun to guess it.
This is quite a fun story overall: four siblings find something magic, and growth results. I laughed at quite a few things that I'm sure I would have missed when I was younger. (I don't remember reading this at all before so I probably didn't. But then again, I remember reading Nesbit even though I can no longer recall anything that happened.) The prose isn't flowery but it gets the job done quite well enough.
The one really jarring note was when the children felt it would be somehow wrong to do magic on Sunday, and proceeded to play the rest of the day. No mention was made of church, or the Lord's day, or even a day of rest. Did they intuit some moral subconsciously? I'm having a hard time thinking of other reasons it could have been wrong.
Overall, this was quite a clever, if light, read.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Childhood Reading, part 2
Stephen Lawhead, The Warlords of Nin. This book was a big influence on me: it put me off mass-market paperbacks forever. Here's why:
That's right, the cover came off, probably the second time I read it. (Note that it may have been read before I had it; it may have come from a garage sale.) Other than that? Bad guys with magic (or fate on their side?), good guys without it (except for the magic sword), necromancy, and a hidden monotheism. (Hidden in that most people in the book are unaware of it, although it is a big part of Quentin's story.) Also the smith they ask to make the sword (in the second or third book, I think) doesn't want to touch the ore they use because it has the power to heal. Comfortable with his deformity? At least he has a hunchback instead of a lame leg... I think.
Taylor Caldwell, Dear and Glorious Physician. I must have found this in my grandmother's basement and read it in ninth grade, because I remember giving a book report about it where the teacher had to tell me that no, actually, Taylor Caldwell is a woman. I'm pretty sure I loved it at the time (it gave me the word "pusillanimous", after all) but I'm more skeptical now. It had mysticism and hypnotism (I'm starting to see a pattern here) and the master and his maidservant waiting until their respective spouses had died (of old age or fever or something) to marry? Seriously? Not that I think it was wrong to wait; I agree 100% with that. What I think might be wrong is that they had each other lined up already. It also had martial arts and a smart, skeptical main character: Luke the physician, if you didn't know. As a boy and a young man. Also a romance that doesn't go anywhere (I'm not sure how to describe it without saying what happened) although I don't think I cared much at the age when I read it.
The Bible. I'm a little hesitant to include this here, but why not? In tenth grade or so, I went to an Acquire the Fire conference where we were encouraged to complete a year-long Bible reading plan. I did read it (at least, I checked off all the boxes... in pencil in case I wanted to do it again) but I didn't remember much of it afterwards. I don't think it was worthwhile. Forcing yourself to get up at 6:00 to spend 10 minutes reading a couple chapters you won't remember by the end of the day is not a good way to study the Bible. I think now you really need to have a hunger to glean meaning from it, but at the time I'm pretty sure I was just doing it because I was told I should. Reading it now in a much more ad hoc fashion, I find all sorts of things that I don't remember one bit from that read-through.
That's right, the cover came off, probably the second time I read it. (Note that it may have been read before I had it; it may have come from a garage sale.) Other than that? Bad guys with magic (or fate on their side?), good guys without it (except for the magic sword), necromancy, and a hidden monotheism. (Hidden in that most people in the book are unaware of it, although it is a big part of Quentin's story.) Also the smith they ask to make the sword (in the second or third book, I think) doesn't want to touch the ore they use because it has the power to heal. Comfortable with his deformity? At least he has a hunchback instead of a lame leg... I think.
Taylor Caldwell, Dear and Glorious Physician. I must have found this in my grandmother's basement and read it in ninth grade, because I remember giving a book report about it where the teacher had to tell me that no, actually, Taylor Caldwell is a woman. I'm pretty sure I loved it at the time (it gave me the word "pusillanimous", after all) but I'm more skeptical now. It had mysticism and hypnotism (I'm starting to see a pattern here) and the master and his maidservant waiting until their respective spouses had died (of old age or fever or something) to marry? Seriously? Not that I think it was wrong to wait; I agree 100% with that. What I think might be wrong is that they had each other lined up already. It also had martial arts and a smart, skeptical main character: Luke the physician, if you didn't know. As a boy and a young man. Also a romance that doesn't go anywhere (I'm not sure how to describe it without saying what happened) although I don't think I cared much at the age when I read it.
The Bible. I'm a little hesitant to include this here, but why not? In tenth grade or so, I went to an Acquire the Fire conference where we were encouraged to complete a year-long Bible reading plan. I did read it (at least, I checked off all the boxes... in pencil in case I wanted to do it again) but I didn't remember much of it afterwards. I don't think it was worthwhile. Forcing yourself to get up at 6:00 to spend 10 minutes reading a couple chapters you won't remember by the end of the day is not a good way to study the Bible. I think now you really need to have a hunger to glean meaning from it, but at the time I'm pretty sure I was just doing it because I was told I should. Reading it now in a much more ad hoc fashion, I find all sorts of things that I don't remember one bit from that read-through.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Childhood Reading part 1
Most of these are books that I read as a child and haven't read again since. With some of them I am in the odd position of knowing more about them from what other people have said than from what I remember of reading them. (Exceptions to the rereading: I recently reread Laurence Yep's Dragon series and I've reread a few of Dianna Wynne Jones' books more recently.) These will generally be in no particular order, just as I think of them, and until I get bored.
C. S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia. I actually read these several times but don't remember a lot of the things that people talk about. Instead, I remember: the stars, Turkish delight, Tashlan, the lion attack, those who disappear into Aslan's shadow, the blind dwarves, the ruined world the Witch comes from, green and gold rings, Puddleglum and giants; were there monopods, too? A pool that gives death (more about this in the next one). Eustace the dragon.
John White, The Archives of Anthropos. These owe an awful lot to Narnia and the Bible, although I only read the first five. I remember picking them out starting with The Sword Bearer at the Christian bookstore. Is it sad that I only just realized John the Sword Bearer might be intended to parallel John the Baptist? He starts in Canada (with pea soup fog) but escapes through the basement of a bookstore to find himself in another land. I read a review in the last several years that said the writing was bland but I have a lot of great memories: Wisdom's house, flat on the outside and huge on the inside; the wine of free pardon; Gaal trees; a valley of dry bones that come to life (also with a pool that gives death! Why did I only just realize this parallel with Narnia?); an unlikely dragon named Pontificator (Ponty for short); the Lord of snow and ice ("Tell them that I am"); and the bad guys: Lord Lunacy; a nasty sorcerer whose name I can't recall though he's trapped in his own portrait for thousands of years; an evil witch; and Nicholas Slapfoot, who chases John from Canada to Anthropos, and keeps on chasing him. Also fun? One of the books is basically the journey of the three wise men, at least one or two of whom are somewhat skeptical. Has anyone else heard of these?
Thomas Locke, the Spectrum Chronicles. I only read the first four and I can barely remember the first one, which I lost shortly after reading it, although I do recall that it was about a different character and set (mostly) in a different world than the others. Books 2 through 4 are about Consuela, the scared girl under the table in the first book (which is almost the entirety of what I remember from that book) and Wander. Thinking back, these are a combination of true love and adventure in space. Consuela is somehow translated from Earth to a foreign world, where she meets Wander and turns out to have a great Talent like his: a psychic ability needed to safely guide starships between the stars. It is so rare, however, that the nameless diplomat (they give up their names when they take office) who takes him away for the Hegemony's use dismisses her as worthless. Unlikely? Sure. But nostalgia is a powerful thing.
Sigmund Brouwer, Magnus. For some reason I read the first part of this as a separate book which had some sections that were in the complete book cut out. I was very surprised to find different details when I read the whole thing. This is the story of (whistles, goes to look up the name) Thomas, a young man who inherits a magnificent treasure: a chest of books (in the twelfth century?). He goes on to take over an impregnable fortress, and that's only the beginning. I will say that he gets yanked around a lot and there is a subplot reminiscent of Poison Study. There's also hypnotism (which I hate) and some guy who's killed by dumping honey in his ear, followed by maggot eggs. Was this detail included just for the yuck effect? (It is part of a story related to the main character by someone else.) I do have some nostalgia but I freely admit that parts of this book are disturbing. And I looked carefully at my bed for a while after reading about assassination by snake under the covers.
Kathy Tyers, Firebird and the rest of the trilogy. Pre-Messianic space opera? Firebird is a talented musician and composer, but as a spare child grows up knowing she is destined to die young, preferably in service to her planet. She really, truly tries very hard to do so: first by ramming her fighter into a planet, then by taking poison, then by provoking her captors to kill her... fortunately for the reader, she is prevented by a top-notch intelligence officer serving the other side. Also fortunately, he is extremely moral. Unfortunately, he is also extremely psychic. I also have a soft spot in my heart for these books, despite the number of gruesome ways there are to die: poison, of course; disintegration rifles (they handcuff the hands behind a steel pole to retain proof of decease); sonic weapons that implode the brain cavity; poison gas; being psychicly commanded to kill yourself (of course the good guys never do this); being smashed into a crater by telekinesis; photo weapons (possibly nuclear or hydrogen bombs, I was never quite sure); at the end of that list, rifle slugs with timed explosives sound almost tame. Would I read it again? I want to...
C. S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia. I actually read these several times but don't remember a lot of the things that people talk about. Instead, I remember: the stars, Turkish delight, Tashlan, the lion attack, those who disappear into Aslan's shadow, the blind dwarves, the ruined world the Witch comes from, green and gold rings, Puddleglum and giants; were there monopods, too? A pool that gives death (more about this in the next one). Eustace the dragon.
John White, The Archives of Anthropos. These owe an awful lot to Narnia and the Bible, although I only read the first five. I remember picking them out starting with The Sword Bearer at the Christian bookstore. Is it sad that I only just realized John the Sword Bearer might be intended to parallel John the Baptist? He starts in Canada (with pea soup fog) but escapes through the basement of a bookstore to find himself in another land. I read a review in the last several years that said the writing was bland but I have a lot of great memories: Wisdom's house, flat on the outside and huge on the inside; the wine of free pardon; Gaal trees; a valley of dry bones that come to life (also with a pool that gives death! Why did I only just realize this parallel with Narnia?); an unlikely dragon named Pontificator (Ponty for short); the Lord of snow and ice ("Tell them that I am"); and the bad guys: Lord Lunacy; a nasty sorcerer whose name I can't recall though he's trapped in his own portrait for thousands of years; an evil witch; and Nicholas Slapfoot, who chases John from Canada to Anthropos, and keeps on chasing him. Also fun? One of the books is basically the journey of the three wise men, at least one or two of whom are somewhat skeptical. Has anyone else heard of these?
Thomas Locke, the Spectrum Chronicles. I only read the first four and I can barely remember the first one, which I lost shortly after reading it, although I do recall that it was about a different character and set (mostly) in a different world than the others. Books 2 through 4 are about Consuela, the scared girl under the table in the first book (which is almost the entirety of what I remember from that book) and Wander. Thinking back, these are a combination of true love and adventure in space. Consuela is somehow translated from Earth to a foreign world, where she meets Wander and turns out to have a great Talent like his: a psychic ability needed to safely guide starships between the stars. It is so rare, however, that the nameless diplomat (they give up their names when they take office) who takes him away for the Hegemony's use dismisses her as worthless. Unlikely? Sure. But nostalgia is a powerful thing.
Sigmund Brouwer, Magnus. For some reason I read the first part of this as a separate book which had some sections that were in the complete book cut out. I was very surprised to find different details when I read the whole thing. This is the story of (whistles, goes to look up the name) Thomas, a young man who inherits a magnificent treasure: a chest of books (in the twelfth century?). He goes on to take over an impregnable fortress, and that's only the beginning. I will say that he gets yanked around a lot and there is a subplot reminiscent of Poison Study. There's also hypnotism (which I hate) and some guy who's killed by dumping honey in his ear, followed by maggot eggs. Was this detail included just for the yuck effect? (It is part of a story related to the main character by someone else.) I do have some nostalgia but I freely admit that parts of this book are disturbing. And I looked carefully at my bed for a while after reading about assassination by snake under the covers.
Kathy Tyers, Firebird and the rest of the trilogy. Pre-Messianic space opera? Firebird is a talented musician and composer, but as a spare child grows up knowing she is destined to die young, preferably in service to her planet. She really, truly tries very hard to do so: first by ramming her fighter into a planet, then by taking poison, then by provoking her captors to kill her... fortunately for the reader, she is prevented by a top-notch intelligence officer serving the other side. Also fortunately, he is extremely moral. Unfortunately, he is also extremely psychic. I also have a soft spot in my heart for these books, despite the number of gruesome ways there are to die: poison, of course; disintegration rifles (they handcuff the hands behind a steel pole to retain proof of decease); sonic weapons that implode the brain cavity; poison gas; being psychicly commanded to kill yourself (of course the good guys never do this); being smashed into a crater by telekinesis; photo weapons (possibly nuclear or hydrogen bombs, I was never quite sure); at the end of that list, rifle slugs with timed explosives sound almost tame. Would I read it again? I want to...
Monday, May 11, 2009
The Great Divorce: A Dream
By C. S. Lewis.
I should change my blog name to "Reads Too Fast"; (little) brother's recent comment on Spell Hunter was "Is she in love with him or something?" "Why do you think that?" "Every time they talk about humans it stings her a little." I need to learn some patience in reading and in a way, that's why I started this blog. I would probably enjoy good books more if I did that. It's hard, though, because for a lot of books I'm not sure if they're good until I finish them. Once in a while, though, there's a book that you know is going to be good after the first page, so you can settle in and enjoy the ride.
Despite that digression, I'm not about to say that about The Great Divorce. In the spirit of omitting needless words, I'm tempted to say that it's unorthodox and leave it at that. This book is a sort of essay presented as a dream of a journey to Hell and to Heaven; the real focus for me was what makes people lost, the things they hold onto that drag them down, which fits in with Lewis's introduction and thesis: the things of Heaven are completely incompatible with those of Hell. You can't hold onto just a little sin, or a tiny selfishness, or even a natural love, and know divine love: they must be surrendered and put to death absolutely.
As a story, this (quite short) book perhaps lacks something; but as a stimulus to thought I'd say it succeeds quite well.
I should change my blog name to "Reads Too Fast"; (little) brother's recent comment on Spell Hunter was "Is she in love with him or something?" "Why do you think that?" "Every time they talk about humans it stings her a little." I need to learn some patience in reading and in a way, that's why I started this blog. I would probably enjoy good books more if I did that. It's hard, though, because for a lot of books I'm not sure if they're good until I finish them. Once in a while, though, there's a book that you know is going to be good after the first page, so you can settle in and enjoy the ride.
Despite that digression, I'm not about to say that about The Great Divorce. In the spirit of omitting needless words, I'm tempted to say that it's unorthodox and leave it at that. This book is a sort of essay presented as a dream of a journey to Hell and to Heaven; the real focus for me was what makes people lost, the things they hold onto that drag them down, which fits in with Lewis's introduction and thesis: the things of Heaven are completely incompatible with those of Hell. You can't hold onto just a little sin, or a tiny selfishness, or even a natural love, and know divine love: they must be surrendered and put to death absolutely.
As a story, this (quite short) book perhaps lacks something; but as a stimulus to thought I'd say it succeeds quite well.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
The White Darkness
By Geraldine McCaughrean.
For some reason this book reminds me of Flannery O'Connor: there's a crooked Bible salesman who takes advantage of naivety, a girl doing home study for her doctorate in micropettiness, and some crutches. Oh yes, and a surprise vacation to Antarctica. Can't imagine how I forgot that little detail.
None of the details above are actually true but there is a resemblance.
Symone Wates is obsessed with Titus Oates and his doomed 1911 Antarctic expedition. Now that he's dead, he doesn't have any pressing commitments in his schedule, so he's free to follow her around -- or so she imagines, anyway. She has a very active imagination. So when her uncle (really a family ... acquaintance) takes her on a weekend holiday to Paris and then announces a spontaneous trip to Antarctica, she imagines nothing is wrong. The trip that follows contains increasingly disturbing revelations.
What I liked: The first thing that really struck me was the early scene in the diner where Sym discloses a certain fact about herself. The book also covers a lot of information about the Antarctic without infodumping (much). Sym's voice is very well done and highly readable. The tension is pretty high throughout the book without becoming unbearable. (Since she's the narrator, we can assume she survives unless the author pulls a Lovely Bones-style* trick, right?)
What I didn't like: Sym's naivety is incredible. When people in the Antarctic base camp get sick and she doesn't, she dismisses it as adjustment problems. When the plane that would have brought them home explodes, she dismisses it as a fuel leak or insulation problem. This is a survival novel but although she has to survive the Antarctic, the real challenge is surviving her uncle. The problem is that she doesn't realize that for a long time. Also, she is the only character who is really likable (Titus Oates is too, but mostly he's her).
This has a great narrator in Sym, incredibly creepy family dynamics, and a high-tension trek through the Antarctic (to say wasteland is a redundancy, although it is beautiful, like many deadly things) with a madman. I doubt I would read it again but I might read another book about Sym if any were published.
* Disclaimer: I haven't actually read Lovely Bones but am pretty sure it has a dead narrator.
For some reason this book reminds me of Flannery O'Connor: there's a crooked Bible salesman who takes advantage of naivety, a girl doing home study for her doctorate in micropettiness, and some crutches. Oh yes, and a surprise vacation to Antarctica. Can't imagine how I forgot that little detail.
None of the details above are actually true but there is a resemblance.
Symone Wates is obsessed with Titus Oates and his doomed 1911 Antarctic expedition. Now that he's dead, he doesn't have any pressing commitments in his schedule, so he's free to follow her around -- or so she imagines, anyway. She has a very active imagination. So when her uncle (really a family ... acquaintance) takes her on a weekend holiday to Paris and then announces a spontaneous trip to Antarctica, she imagines nothing is wrong. The trip that follows contains increasingly disturbing revelations.
What I liked: The first thing that really struck me was the early scene in the diner where Sym discloses a certain fact about herself. The book also covers a lot of information about the Antarctic without infodumping (much). Sym's voice is very well done and highly readable. The tension is pretty high throughout the book without becoming unbearable. (Since she's the narrator, we can assume she survives unless the author pulls a Lovely Bones-style* trick, right?)
What I didn't like: Sym's naivety is incredible. When people in the Antarctic base camp get sick and she doesn't, she dismisses it as adjustment problems. When the plane that would have brought them home explodes, she dismisses it as a fuel leak or insulation problem. This is a survival novel but although she has to survive the Antarctic, the real challenge is surviving her uncle. The problem is that she doesn't realize that for a long time. Also, she is the only character who is really likable (Titus Oates is too, but mostly he's her).
This has a great narrator in Sym, incredibly creepy family dynamics, and a high-tension trek through the Antarctic (to say wasteland is a redundancy, although it is beautiful, like many deadly things) with a madman. I doubt I would read it again but I might read another book about Sym if any were published.
* Disclaimer: I haven't actually read Lovely Bones but am pretty sure it has a dead narrator.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
Faery Rebels: Spell Hunter
Also known as Knife in the U.K., which I prefer. By R. J. Anderson.
Disclaimer: I've been following the author's blog since around the end of 2006 and eagerly awaiting this book since at least last year; I was actually hesitant to read it, lest I be disappointed. I am also hesitant to write this post, lest the author be disappointed. (Hi there.)
Well.
My actual reaction is more complicated. This book is actually haunting me (where haunting is a sophisticated literary term that means I woke up thinking about it). When I finished it yesterday I was somewhat nonplussed, thinking "Okay, that's nice enough, but I don't love it", but the romance grew on me over the next several hours.
Today I realized what really creeps me out about it. It's a zombie book! (to put it facetiously*)
The story: Knife is a precocious young faery whose colony has been Sundered from its magic and the outside world since long before her birth. Only the (secretive, Machiavellian) Queen retains the ability to control magic, although all faeries had it once. As the Queen's Hunter, Knife decides to take matters into her own hands, find out why the magic has been lost, and try to fix it...
What I liked: The characters are almost all very well done. (Paul's father doesn't seem to get much attention, though.) The little touches that come from this being a faery story: Knife hides in a basket filled with crumpled paper, but doesn't know what it is. The chuckle I got from her pride in being a whole fly's length taller than everyone else. The deft reminders of, for example, the importance of names: they are only briefly mentioned, but in such a way as to make the reader remember. The tight prose. The descriptions are striking: this is a well-detailed world. The sweet, innocent romance. The references to a gardener (possibly this one?).
What I didn't like: This is very much Knife's story, which is fine, but her world doesn't seem very large; it's almost as if it ends beyond the house and grounds where she lives (with one exception). No one outside that radius seems to play an important part. Even inside, the unnamed faeries in the colony (there seem to be 50 or more) seem to be a sort of shadowy, amorphous cloud, playing as extras in crowd scenes. There are no chance encounters with someone unnamed that turn out to be important later, as far as I recall. (My recollection may be poor; I'll admit to misreading Bryony's name as Byrony until I tried to look it up and couldn't find it.) What really bothers me, however, is the way magic is used to change minds and wills, just as in Melissa Marr's Wicked Lovely. It seems to me that a general rule of fairy tales is that the characters should have to make choices that lead to their downfalls; stories where free will is taken away by magic tend to bother me a lot. Physical coercion is one thing, but being able to change someone else's essence is another.
In the end? There's much to like about this book; the ending is quite good, open without being unresolved. There are some hints of Christian themes but not as much as I had hoped. I do hope to read more from the author. But I remain disturbed by the magic, as explained above. (I could also just be in a bad mood since the mirror scene with Magpie in Blackbringer was similarly awful but didn't have such a lasting effect on my impression of the book.)
* I am thinking of these zombies. Maybe it doesn't really fit?
Disclaimer: I've been following the author's blog since around the end of 2006 and eagerly awaiting this book since at least last year; I was actually hesitant to read it, lest I be disappointed. I am also hesitant to write this post, lest the author be disappointed. (Hi there.)
Well.
My actual reaction is more complicated. This book is actually haunting me (where haunting is a sophisticated literary term that means I woke up thinking about it). When I finished it yesterday I was somewhat nonplussed, thinking "Okay, that's nice enough, but I don't love it", but the romance grew on me over the next several hours.
Today I realized what really creeps me out about it. It's a zombie book! (to put it facetiously*)
The story: Knife is a precocious young faery whose colony has been Sundered from its magic and the outside world since long before her birth. Only the (secretive, Machiavellian) Queen retains the ability to control magic, although all faeries had it once. As the Queen's Hunter, Knife decides to take matters into her own hands, find out why the magic has been lost, and try to fix it...
What I liked: The characters are almost all very well done. (Paul's father doesn't seem to get much attention, though.) The little touches that come from this being a faery story: Knife hides in a basket filled with crumpled paper, but doesn't know what it is. The chuckle I got from her pride in being a whole fly's length taller than everyone else. The deft reminders of, for example, the importance of names: they are only briefly mentioned, but in such a way as to make the reader remember. The tight prose. The descriptions are striking: this is a well-detailed world. The sweet, innocent romance. The references to a gardener (possibly this one?).
What I didn't like: This is very much Knife's story, which is fine, but her world doesn't seem very large; it's almost as if it ends beyond the house and grounds where she lives (with one exception). No one outside that radius seems to play an important part. Even inside, the unnamed faeries in the colony (there seem to be 50 or more) seem to be a sort of shadowy, amorphous cloud, playing as extras in crowd scenes. There are no chance encounters with someone unnamed that turn out to be important later, as far as I recall. (My recollection may be poor; I'll admit to misreading Bryony's name as Byrony until I tried to look it up and couldn't find it.) What really bothers me, however, is the way magic is used to change minds and wills, just as in Melissa Marr's Wicked Lovely. It seems to me that a general rule of fairy tales is that the characters should have to make choices that lead to their downfalls; stories where free will is taken away by magic tend to bother me a lot. Physical coercion is one thing, but being able to change someone else's essence is another.
In the end? There's much to like about this book; the ending is quite good, open without being unresolved. There are some hints of Christian themes but not as much as I had hoped. I do hope to read more from the author. But I remain disturbed by the magic, as explained above. (I could also just be in a bad mood since the mirror scene with Magpie in Blackbringer was similarly awful but didn't have such a lasting effect on my impression of the book.)
* I am thinking of these zombies. Maybe it doesn't really fit?
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