My Bookshelf

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine

2008-06-16T21:11:00.000-07:00

Fairest
by Gail Carson Levine

Another enjoyable fairy-tale adaptation from Levine, this time, Snow White with a twist. The twist is an interesting idea: Aza (the Snow White character) is not a beautiful girl, but a very ugly one by the standards of her people: her pale coloring and dark hair make her seem quite hideous. Yet she has a marvelous singing voice (which is prized by her people). Twist one.

Aza ends up in the king's castle by a string of lucky events, where she meets the woman engaged to the king—Ivi, a beautiful girl not much older than herself. Ivi takes a liking to her, and they become friends. (Twist two: Snow White is friends and a lady-in-waiting to the wicked stepmother.)

There is a prince, of course, and a magic mirror, and plenty of smallish men (though they are gnomes in this story and not dwarves), and even a poisoned apple, but the story is very unique in its ideas and adaptation.

I can't say that I liked it a great deal, though. It was a bit heavy-handed and moralistic to me (the point that beauty doesn't matter as much as we think, and that there is more than one way to be beautiful is hammered in again and again without much subtlety), and the ending a bit...well, disappointing. It's been awhile since I read it now, so I can't even remember it well enough to be able to describe what disappointed me without giving away the story...so I'll just leave it at that, "disappointing."

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

2008-06-15T19:56:00.000-07:00

Pride and Prejudice
by Jane Austen

This is one of those books that, when I am between books and don't have any immediate plans to read anything else, I pick up with delight and read again. I have no idea how many times I've read it; I can't even recall the first time that I picked it up, but I love this book.

(And as a sidenote, my cover didn't look like this <—. I have a complete collection of Austen in one huge book, and the cover isn't especially exciting. I picked this cover because it didn't have Keira Knightley OR Colin Firth on it.) I love this book especially, I think, because I love Elizabeth and her "high spirits." She is a very likeable character. And I love this book because of Austen's wit. There are passages in here that no matter how many times I read them, I am still get a kick out of them. For example, this passage is from a expository scene that has Mr. Bennet teasing his wife and daughters:

"What say you, Mary? for you are a young lady of deep reflection I know, and read great books, and make extracts.''
Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.

There are so many brilliantly witty things all throughout.

And, of course, there is the romance, the satisfaction of a very happy ending, the misfortunes of the foolish, emotion and changes of heart...what else can I say? I love this book.

Hush by Donna Jo Napoli

2008-05-02T10:53:00.000-07:00

Hush
by Donna Jo Napoli

Again, a beautiful story by a wonderful author. This one deals with an Irish princess and her sister who are captured by slave traders and shipped off to the mainland in the west. They keep their identities a secret for safety, and the princess Melkorka learns that there is power and protection in choosing not to speak...

It's a touching and terrible story, heart-breaking, and ultimately of survival and the will to live.

The one difficulty I had with the story is the ending. I am not still in grade school where I expect a story to happily and all loose ends neatly tied up with ribbon, but there are limits to what I can take from an open ending! When the story ends, Melkorka remains a slave, having lost all family, freedom, and innocence, and she has no idea what has happened to her family (when she was abducted, the family were on the edge of a pivotal struggle for survival). It ends very realistically, if not satisfactorily (though, if the story were completely true to life, I suppose it would have followed Melkorka's story all the way to her death—which most likely would have brought no resolutions, but still—).

Beautiful and haunting.

Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man by Fannie Flagg

2008-04-29T22:07:00.000-07:00

Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man
by Fannie Flagg

I love this book.

I first read it—well, I really can't remember. I think it may have been a gift from an aunt, but after I read it, I wondered if she knew what was in it? Who knows? Who cares? The point is, I've read it and re-read it since, and I really can't imagine my life without this book.

It's funny. Very. And not in a silly way, but in a truly witty and fun way. The book is composed entirely of journal entries written by Miss Daisy Fay Harper (stop yawning—yes, journal-entry books can be dull, but this is anything but, I promise), beginning when she is age 11 until she is age 18. Set in the 50s in Mississippi, Daisy Fay is brutally honest about the people around her (and sometimes naive), but always, always funny. Her family is a bit of a mess, and her life is a bit of a mess, but there isn't a dull sentence in this book. Frequently it is touching and sad, but always true.

I can't even give a specific example, because I don't want to spoil anything in this book. I wish I could. I wish I could say something about...I can't. I can't! I won't spoil it! But it always makes me feel much better after I've read it, and the ending is fantastic (which, of course, doesn't mean that all the stuff in the middle isn't, it's just that after everything that has happened to her, the ending is very satisfying).

Animal Dreams by Barbara Kingsolver

2008-04-28T22:07:00.000-07:00

Animal Dreams
by Barbara Kingsolver

I've read several of Kingsolver's books (who hasn't read The Poisonwood Bible?) and enjoyed them very much, but of all her books, this one is my favorite.

If you've ever read Kingsolver you'll know what a great writer she is: poignant, powerful, graceful, with marvelous characters and insight into human nature. She writes with strong overtones of the natural world, of community, and frequently, the effects of modern life on the natural world (in this book, pollution—and I know that sounds horrid, but it really isn't, let me finish).

This story is the story of Codi, a woman who feels as if she fits in nowhere, and her return to the town she grew up in. And it is a story of how she got pregnant as a teenager and lost the baby, and how that loss affected the rest of her life.

I love the story because it is a love story, and it is a story about healing, reconciliation, and learning what belonging really means. (Really. Pollution is a side-plot, really it is.)

I don't know how many times I've read this now, but I love reading it every time. I always forget just how good it is. (So why don't I own this one yet?)

Beast by Donna Jo Napoli

2008-04-23T22:07:00.000-07:00

Beast
by Donna Jo Napoli

A retelling of Beauty and the Beast, from the Beast's point of view: who he was when he was a prince, how he got cursed in the first place, and what happened thereafter.

It is a very interesting idea (the Beast is actually a Persian prince who is changed into a lion by a vindictive spirit, and what happens to him after), but I have to confess I didn't enjoy it as much as some of her other stories. Mostly, I think, because there is so much time the prince spends in solitude, out in the wild, learning that he can't live as a lion, and he can't live as a man, so what is he to do? There is a great deal of narrative simply describing his travels and the learning process as he tries to figure out how to do lion-like things, like hunt. I can tell that Napoli loves nature and wildlife, and her accuracy in capturing the harsh reality of life in the wild is exact—but boring if, like myself, the reader is expecting a fairy tale and narration from the nature channel. (And don't get me wrong; I LOVE that kind of stuff. I drive my husband nuts every time he flips past the Discovery channel and I make him stop.)

Nevertheless, the story is written extremely well, and does get much more interesting (at least, from my point of view) when he runs into Beauty's father and strikes the deal to buy a girl for a rose. After that, I admit, I really enjoyed it.

Bound by Donna Jo Napoli

2008-04-22T22:06:00.000-07:00

Bound
by Donna Jo Napoli

This is about as good as Napoli gets.

Bound is a retelling of the Cinderella story, set in China in the Ming dynasty (the earliest versions of the Cinderella story do come from China, but from a different dynasty, FYI).

The story is gracefully and beautifully written, touching, and grounded in Chinese history and tradition. It has one of my favorite elements: a strong female character who learns that destiny is in her own hands, and she need not be a victim to culture, tradition, or other people. (There isn't exactly a fairy godmother in this telling of the tale.)

Now I just have to go buy a copy of my very own...

Peeps by Scott Westerfeld

2008-04-21T22:06:00.000-07:00

Peeps
by Scott Westerfeld

Westerfeld is awesome.

Again, vampires aren't really my thing, but this book is pretty cool. Westerfeld takes the idea of vampires from an evolutional standpoint: if vampires were truly real, how would evolution have created them? For what purpose? How would they be possible?

He starts with questions like these and comes up with a brilliant and exciting story, and typical Westerfeld edge-or-your-seat kind of story. It reminds me a bit of an X-files episode: there is mystery, conspiracy, and heavy in funky biology and parasitology. (And there's a warning for you: if you don't like learning a bit about parasites, this may not be the book for you. The book is stiff with them because they are essential to the story and background of the story. Me, I love biology and the freaky little bugs that surround us in this world.)

Anyway, it's an incredibly fun book, wonderfully original, and a great read. And I just found out that there is a sequel to this that came out not too long ago, so now I have to go look for it...

Sunshine by Robin McKinley

2008-04-19T09:45:00.000-07:00

Sunshine
by Robin McKinley

I'm not really big on vampires. I'm really not. Even though plenty of them seem to be cropping up in recent reads—and books that I have really, really liked—I'm really not into the dark blood-and-gore type of novel. Sigh. And this one had blood, and gore, and vampires, and I still liked it, very much. Oh well.

The first time I picked this book up, I only picked it up because it was a new book from Robin McKinley. I had no idea what it was about. I figured it was another fairy tale (I mean, c'mon, that what she does, right?). And then I found out it was a vampire story. Really? From McKinley? Fairy tale queen? WITH CHEESE?!?*

So, this book was a departure from her into new territory. At least, as far as genre is concerned (this book really isn't YA, as most of her stuff usually is: there is more violence, more sex, more swearing, and, er, stuff; and the main character isn't a teenager *gasp of shock.* Also, it has a far different setting than what she usually writes. It isn't the world of fairy tale and princesses and that sort of thing. It's actually a modern-day world in which magic is a reality). But it still has the general McKinley feel of characterization, themes, and magic. Of course.

The basic rundown of the story is what happens when Sunshine, a young baker who works at a family coffee shop, tangles with some vampires and discovers some of her own latent powers that have been lying dormant since her childhood, and the internal conflict the discovery causes her.

One of the themes McKinley revisits in this one is duality: Sunshine is caught between forces within herself of light and dark, and she worries that she is some kind of monster—though the solution to her worries is simply to accept who and what she is. (There is some of this in The Hero and The Crown, and it reminds me a bit of Ged's acceptance of his own shadow at the end of A Wizard of Earthsea by Le Guin.)

There are many things in the story that are left completely unresolved. It screams for a sequel, though I don't know if McKinley will ever bother. That doesn't seem to be her style. And yet—there are so many things left open, and so many plot points seem as if they are being set up for a much larger conflict. But will there be another book?

Anyway. Interesting book, and an enjoyable read.

*If "with cheese" makes no sense, that's okay. It is an expression of shocked disbelief, carrying nearly the same connotation as "WTF," and yet, is G-rated.

Breath by Donna Jo Napoli

2008-04-18T21:44:00.000-07:00

Breath
by Donna Jo Napoli

Beautifully researched as always (I'm always learning something new every time I pick up a book by Napoli; in this case, a lot about cystic fibrosis, medieval customs and beliefs in Germany, the Crusades, and early accidental experimentation with LSD (ergot poisoning)), and wonderfully adapted, as always. (Meaning, of course, that this is yet another adaptation from a fairy tale: this is not the story of the Pied Piper, but the story of the crippled boy who got left behind when he led the children away.)

And the emotional atmosphere she sets: the struggle for life, love, sanity for individual characters—I can't think of a word strong enough to describe the bright emotional pain she captures so well.... This one is painful, though. The ending is open: at the end, the reader only knows that Salz has been left behind, and what he is planning to do next, but not what actually happens to him, and imagination can't help but to take the reader to the next plausible step for him—which may be very bleak if you tend toward realistic endings—or mildly hopeful if you are optimistic. But no matter what, it's a sad story. And a beautiful one. And well worth the read.

Midnighters Series by Scott Westerfeld

2008-03-20T21:44:00.001-07:00

The Secret Hour
Touching Darkness
Blue Noon
by Scott Westerfeld

Because I recently read a book by him, and they reminded me how much I liked him, I re-read this series again. I LOVE this series.

Like all Westerfeld books I've read so far, they have great tension, are fast-paced, and highly original. They are also peppered with random interesting factoids (he researches his stuff very well, and I love random factoids). I guess the best way to describe his books is with the word "cool." What other word fits them so well?

Like a lot of his other stuff, this one is YA (the main characters are all teenagers). One of the reasons I love this series especially is because it's all about things that go bump in the night. Quite literally. Great spooky read! (Three of the teenagers in the book are...um...goth-y outcasts, if that means anything to anyone. And there are all sorts of monsters in it.)

The characterization in this series is wonderful, as well. The characters are well-developed and constantly evolving...but I don't want to say anything about any of them—I don't want to spoil the twists of the plot—but...well, it's just cool. Wow, that was vague. Here's one specific: I don't particularly care for math. It was never my best subject, and I always found it a bit boring. Somehow Westerfeld takes math and makes it, not only interesting, but basically into a superpower, and I loved every minute of it. That takes talent.

One more thing I have to say about this series and Westerfeld's ability to create tension: at the close of the first book, I was left believing the second book would HAVE to be a letdown. After all, where could he go from the tension of the first? How could he create something more exciting and interesting than The Secret Hour? And then I read the second, and was amazed. And then picked up the third book thinking, there's no way he could do that again. No way this one has as much suspense as the last...yet, the third was just as good as the others, if not better.

I hope he does another book for this series sometime. I really want to know what happens next...

Carry On, Jeeves by P.G. Wodehouse

2008-03-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

Carry On, Jeeves
by P.G. Wodehouse

I had heard of Wodehouse before, but never read anything that he wrote, and never had an idea of what he wrote. If I'd known, I would've picked him up much sooner.

This is the first book I've read of the Bertie Wooster series, and I have to say I enjoyed it. The book is basically a series of short stories about the disasters Bertie and some of his gentlemen friends find themselves in, and how Jeeves, Wooster's brilliant valet, manages to extricate them from their messes. Wooster himself if a pleasant fellow, if not a tad stupid and shallow, which may be why I like him so much.

Light-hearted and humorous, and some of the scenes are just funny—and I'm not sure if it's me taking my time getting used to the author's style and slowly picking up his sense of humor—but they seem to get progressively funnier as you progress through the book, and end with a story finally told from Jeeves' point of view, so you know what's going through that wonderful man's head. I'm glad Wooster somehow managed to get himself in such capable hands.

So Yesterday by Scott Westerfeld

2008-03-09T10:29:00.000-07:00

So Yesterday
by Scott Westerfeld

I've really enjoyed plenty of Westerfeld's books, and I like this one, too. Can't say it was my absolute favorite of his, but it's still a decent read. His books are always adventurous, quick-paced, and suspenseful, fun YA books.

This one deals with what is "cool" and how it gets that way, and how the whole thing is a scam to get you to spend money. Interesting idea, and maybe not too far from the truth (except the truth isn't nearly so cool as the story he spins here).

The French Lieutenant's Woman by John Fowles

2008-03-05T09:25:00.000-08:00

The French Lieutenant's Woman
by John Fowles

I've never read anything by Fowles. I have to admit until I saw this book on a friend's page at goodreads, I'm not even sure that I'd heard of it. But I picked it up and read it.

It is unusual: a book set in the Victorian era, but written in our time; a book that proposes to be about that time, and yet is more about our own than anything: it is about religion (or more accurately, agnosticism), madness, evolution, society, self, and sex. (A great deal about sex.) Part historical commentary, a great deal of well-written narrative, and some surprising abandonment on the part of the author of the "suspension of disbelief" (he abandons the traditional narrative voice in several places to tell the reader what he thinks as an author of writing, of the story itself, of what is about to happen to the characters. He even writes himself into the story in two places). Um—it's about a lot of stuff, but mainly a fellow named Charles Smithson. And I really ought to read it again before I attempt any real analysis of it—after all, quite a bit of it, especially the intellectual bits and theories in it went quite over my head (for example, there is a quote from Marx on the first page, as a kind of prelude to what is to follow:

Every emancipation is a restoration of the human world and of human relationships to man himself.

I've turned it over and over in my head, and I still can't decide what I think it means, and what it means in relationship to the book, and as I read it again now, almost all meaning seems to fly away from it, and I am left with nothing but some strange-sounding syllables with no meaning attached. Perfect word disassociation).

The only thing that I can really think about this first reading of this incredible book is what I learned about the anima and animus in college*, and how Charles' infatuation with the namesake of the novel, Sarah Woodruff, or the "French Lieutenant's Woman" is actually a story about Charles (or possibly the narrator) falling for his anima, his true inner self embodied in a woman. By the time I was finished with the story, I was pretty well convinced that Sarah wasn't an actual woman at all, but Charles' (or the author's) anima: how he wanted, above all, to break free of the constraints of society, to be honest, to be true to himself, just as she was, regardless of the consequences.

I have to sit back, though, and wonder if the author thinks the same, or if he really thinks of her as a real character? It must be subconscious...

Anyway, I really need to re-read this one again and see what I can get from it the next time through.

*I am not about to go into all that I learned about the anima and animus and what really is going on when we fall in love—not here. But I find the theory that Jung suggests about the anima to coincide with my own views about romantic love—that when we fall in love with a person without really knowing them at all, it is really in response to love for self and seeing ourselves reflected in them; and that true love is about loving another, not being infatuated with oneself. Yeah. Not going to go into it here. But there are more things to read if you're interested in that idea, such as We: Understanding the Psychology of Romantic Love by Robert A. Johnson, or Human Intimacy by Victor Brown or what was that article on Romance Addiction? Sheesh. I've looked for it, but I can't find it or the woman who wrote it...oh well. Another post, maybe.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine

2008-02-27T20:48:00.000-08:00

The Two Princesses of Bamarre
by Gail Carson Levine

I picked up this one mostly because I enjoyed Ella Enchanted and I wondered what Levine's other stuff was like. This one was more of the same (which isn't a bad thing).

It's a fantasy, and YA, and it has everything you would expect a YA fantasy novel with a female lead to have: a bit of magic, of romance, adventure, monsters (even a dragon), enchanted objects, and none of this hero-rescuing-maiden nonsense—heavens, no. She manages just fine by herself, thank you.

I have to say that I preferred Ella, but this one is nice, too. I can't say that it is an extraordinarily deep, life-changing experience to read or anything, but it's nice.

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer

2008-02-23T22:41:00.000-08:00

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
by Jonathan Safran Foer

Wow.

When I first picked it up and read the description on the dust jacket, I wasn't so sure. Post-9/11 story? Do I really want to read this? Is it a bit soon, even seven years later?

But I picked it up, and am glad I did. The main character is a 9-year-old boy who is precocious, obnoxious, inventive, and vulnerable. Of course I loved him. But it turns out it's not just his story—it's the story of his family and what he finds as he searches for the father that he lost. And like any story about family, this one begins to span more than just one tragic incident, and the relationships of just one boy with his father.

Now that I wrote that, it may seem stupid, but I promise, it's a beautiful book.

It's a little on the experimental side, but not in any way that detracts from the story, and definitely not in a way that's obnoxious (I HATE Pynchon. There, I said it). This book is perfectly natural.

The only thing that irks me about the story at all is that it is so brilliant, and it's written by a kid who's younger than me. (I may be a little jealous.) This is one I think I might be buying sometime soon (and for me, that means I really, really liked it).

The Only Alien on the Planet by Kristine D. Randle

2008-02-18T00:55:00.001-08:00

The Only Alien on the Planet
by Kristine D. Randle

I really, really liked this book. At first it didn't seem like anything all that special—just another well-written young adult book about life and times in high school. And then you meet Smitty, who, at first, I assumed was going to be a Boo Radley or something similar.

Nah.

So cool. I won't talk any more about plot, or what happens, but I can say that by the ending, I really, really liked this one. I love books that give characters a chance for redemption, for hope, for healing past impossible things. They make me feel like I can fly.

The Tales of Alvin Maker by Orson Scott Card

2008-02-10T22:04:00.000-08:00

Seventh Son
Red Prophet
Prentice Alvin
Alvin Journeyman
by Orson Scott Card

(additional books in the series that I haven't read yet or are still forthcoming:)
Heartfire
The Crystal City
Master Alvin

What I like best about Card is his ability to create suspense. He's very good at it. He writes a story that, once I start, it is nearly impossible to put the book down because I need to know what happens to the characters.

This particular series is an alternate reality-type thing—in this case, what would colonial America have been like if folk magic actually worked, and altered some important events in history? (Normally, I get pretty annoyed with alternate reality books, books where a story is set in the world we know, but not... how do I explain this? A novel that is based in fact and history, and yet changes history and the world we live in...I can't put my finger on it, exactly, and I don't want to try because it will detract me from the review I'm trying to do. All I can say is that sometimes an alternate-reality fiction can irritate me to death, e.g., anything by Piers Anthony. I can also try and describe it like this: One person I know says she hated The Last Unicorn for precisely the reason I'm trying to describe: that Beagle warped the rules—not of the real world, but those of the fantastic, canonical world of fantasy—by whimsically mentioning tacos, and it irked her to no end. Anyway. These books didn't bother me like that. Enough digression.)

This series has Card's usual amount of tension, so I couldn't put the books down. And he does so well writing about people—about their motivations, their fears, the hidden things that make them a menace or a blessing to those around them. He's very good at that.

In this series particularly, Card's Mormonism leaks out. (How can it not? He's writing a story about a young boy in a young America who has a strange and wonderful gift...how can he resist putting in all sorts of parallels and tributes to Joseph Smith?) Sometimes that sort of thing bothers me. Sometimes when an author does something like that, they end up getting sidetracked from their story and can lose momentum and all of a sudden they're no longer telling a story, they're preaching. Yick. Card, fortunately, doesn't do this. Good for him.

The books each explore vital themes that are historically appropriate: the second book has a great deal to do with the fate of the Native American in the hands of the white man. The third book has an awful lot to do with the evils of slavery. And none of this is done in (at least, what I consider to be) a heavy-handed manner. Card handles ideas with grace and truth. They were a pleasure to read.

At least they were, right up to the last bit of the third book. There was a scene that just smacked me in the face with the overt symbolism. Of COURSE there were going to be parallels, allegories, symbolism, whatever with the Gospel and Joseph Smith—but I wasn't looking for them. I was reading for the story (and he does do suspense well) but when I got to a particular scene—the climax of the third book—what happened was so obviously a BAPTISM, that I...I don't know. (One main character was trying to save another character from having to return to slavery, and in order to save him, he had to change him just the tiniest bit so that the...well, trackers (for the sake of abbreviated descriptions) wouldn't be able to find him. And as he changes him, he immerses himself and the other in the water of the river and his hands are described as being just so... I mean, C'MON! Was that really necessary? I felt like I had been smacked in the face with a dead fish. I felt so disappointed.

And after that, I've sort of lost interest in Alvin Smith (for heaven's sake! SMITH!) and his annoyingly good-humored character. And then, other things that were slightly annoying—but that I was willing to overlook as long as I cared so deeply for what happened next—suddenly were too obnoxious to ignore: his entirely STUPID romance with Peggy, other symbolic parallels, the golden plow (sigh)...

I guess what happened is that the story lost its credibility for me, just in that one scene. I no longer trusted what the storyteller had to say. And suddenly—poof!—the magic was gone, and I had lost interest. Too bad. I almost would've liked to see what happened next. I only read the fourth book because I had checked it out with the third, but I don't think I'll be continuing with the rest of the series.

I still really like Card, and I still think he's a great storyteller, but...oof. That stupid scene just killed me!

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

2008-02-10T17:35:00.000-08:00

The Picture of Dorian Gray
by Oscar Wilde

I think that I am...er, moved too much by things. I get too much inside a book, and so, when I read one like this, the ick in it clings to me and transforms the way I see the world...eh. Oh well.

It was an interesting read, and the ideas in it are very different. (Meaning, very different from the ones I hold, and therefore, pretty interesting to read.)

The story of the moral degradation of a man; the hypocrisy of people and society; the stress and importance that is put on appearance, and the way we are led to trust people only by appearance; the havoc a little bit of selfishness can do; how the
ideal of the age (the Victorian age, anyway: the ideal of a true gentleman) was embodied by a hypocritical, devious, evil, debauched angel of light who was all about deception, and completely, utterly soulless...

A main theme of Wilde's was beauty, and beauty worship. Is beauty a blessing? A curse? How does it affect people and what does it lead them to do? To feel? (And I think he's got that part absolutely right: people are led with their eyes, and fooled by appearances.)

Anyhoo, the more I read of Wilde, the more I am intrigued by his brain. (But when it comes time to re-read his works, I think I'll choose The Importance of Being Earnest over this one!)

Twilight/New Moon/Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer

2008-01-31T17:15:00.000-08:00

Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse
by Stephenie Meyer

As I've said on a post on my main blog, once I read Eclipse, I had to go back through and read the others again, and then re-read Eclipse again, too. And this last re-reading of the whole series brought new perspective for me—on the whole series.

There is a lot to be said about these books, and right now, all over the Internet, people are saying it. I have read complaints about inaccuracy (Forks isn't really like that, in New Moon Alice gave a guard a thousand dollar bill, and those don't exist, etc.), that the books aren't written very well, people debating about the characters: who they like, who they dislike, and why (and of course, "like" and "dislike" are completely mild—love passionately and loathe fit the bill a little better), some who claim that Stephenie is "dangerous" because the books depict an abusive relationship—there have been some really strange things coming out of the woodwork from these books.

To me, though, it's all the discussion about the books that is intriguing: why is a silly romantic YA fantasy getting so much attention? Stirring so much feeling? When you look at the plain fact that it's a teenage romance in which there is NO SEX—really, what's the big deal? A YA romance novel—eliciting controversy!

I have a theory about this kind of thing, but was having trouble articulating it. Then I happened to read the preface of the next book on my list, and found Oscar Wilde already described it perfectly:

"All art is at once surface and symbol.
Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.
Those who read the symbol do so at their peril.
It is the spectator, and not like, that are really mirrors.
Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital.
When critics disagree the artist is in accord with himself.
We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless."
—from the Preface of A Picture of Dorian Gray

When people read a book, the thing that reaches them, moves them, makes them think is the thing in the book that reflects themselves: their fears, their hopes, their ideologies... I think that, generally, people see the world as a reflection of themselves. And so, the reviews of these books have been revealing much more about the reviewers than they do the art or the artist. (Thank you, Oscar Wilde.)

Yet, the question remains—are these, then, "good" books?

What makes a good book? How do you define it?

Is it flawless writing? The communication of new ideas? Or of old ideas in a new way? Something that stands the test of time (whatever that means)—a work with enough universal truth in it that it captures public attention for decades, centuries? Or is it a work that touches, moves, and causes you to feel? Or is it one that merely stimulates your intellect? A work that is moral, or educational, or that exists simply for its own sake? How is it defined?

I've struggled with this question forever, and have pestered countless literature teachers and professors to share their views on the subject, and then debated it with them. because, as far as I could see, there is no easy way to define a "good" work or a "great" work. For all of the above criteria, I can think of several books that defy part (if not all) of them, and yet are still considered "classics." What is good? What is great?

If I take one of Wilde's statements again, and apply it to these books:

"Diversity of opinion about a work of art shows that the work is new, complex, and vital."

...well, by this measurement, Meyer has been extremely successful.

Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer

2008-01-06T21:59:00.000-08:00

Eclipse
by Stephenie Meyer

I already reviewed Twilight, the first book in the series, and I mentioned in that review that I had a problem with a character, and a problem with a theme. If you're interested in more of the problems I had with the first book (along with all the things I liked), click here to read the Twilight review. Matter of fact, if any of the following review is going to make sense, you'd better read it, since this review is a continuation of the first. (I never did review New Moon, because I wasn't keeping this blog the first time I read it. Maybe when I re-read it sometime?)

Again, this book was completely suspenseful, completely romantic, and once I picked the dumb thing up, I couldn't put it down again until I was done (and even then, I had to pick it back up and read a few passages again).

I am very pleased that one of the problems I had with Edward in Twilight was starting to resolve itself in this book (hooray!), namely, that he was so overprotective of Bella he wouldn't let her do a thing for herself. It made me want to scream. But he finally backed off a bit when he found that if he really loved her, he was going to have to let her make her own choices. That was really, really nice—that's a characteristic of a more mature love.

(And thank heaven! That really was driving me crazy...)

***SLIGHT SPOILER WARNING***
The other bone I had to pick—about the confusion of love and infatuation—that was addressed, if not resolved. At least, in my head it was. The author had Bella in love with two people by the end of the book—one a love that was more human and healthy, more ordinary (as close as Bella could get, anyway: he was still a werewolf), but not less passionate; and the other, her love for Edward, which really is a bit obsessive (Jacob even tells Bella "he's like a drug for you"), unusual, and otherwordly: the very essence of what pop culture considers love and romance to be...

My most practical and issue-prone part of me was disappointed that she chose the impossible love over the possible; but that's not what fiction is for, is it? Of course she was going to choose Edward in the end. And if she had chosen Jacob, I suppose the more fantastic and unrealistic part of me would be outraged...no way to win, I guess.

I can't help wondering what will happen in the future, though. There were plenty of things left open, questions unanswered (my most pressing was what will it be like for Bella as a vampire? And what will her special ability be, if she has any?). And what will become of Jacob and the rest of the pack? (I rather think that Meyer is going to be writing a novel from Jacob's perspective next, just a hunch.) And I wonder, too, how my perspective and views about this book will change when I read it again?

Dragonhaven by Robin McKinley

2008-01-06T21:01:00.000-08:00

Dragonhaven
by Robin McKinley

I've mentioned it before, but I'm a huge fan of McKinley. She always tells a story with—what? honesty? Is that it? Yeah, a bare-to-the-bone honesty, and I think any writer who is a GREAT writer has to do that—and, boy, did I mention I like her stuff? (I really ought to do a compound review of her stuff when I feel like a re-reading spurt—I really want to tackle things like Sunshine and Deerskin again—whereas The Hero and the Crown is one of my all-time favorite books and I've re-read that one countless times.)

This one, Dragonhaven, came out not too long ago (September?) and it took me this long to get my hands on a copy.

If you like dragons (and I grew up reading Dickinson's A Flight of Dragons, which is a flippin' reference book on dragons with great illustrations and the like—and when I was wee, I remember watching the cheesy cartoon movie of the same title on television, and I sooooo loved it—I wanted to live in that movie because I was five and didn't notice it was cheesy at the time), this is a great read. It's a great read anyway, but if you always wished dragons were real, it won't hurt.

McKinley is as honest with her portrayal of her characters as always, and the lead in this book, Jake, is brutally honest, a compulsive worrier, and—since it is written in first person—sometimes pretty annoying! But I loved the guy anyway, enjoyed the story greatly, etc., etc.

Since McKinley is married to Dickinson nowadays, and since I had Dickinson's book memorized, it was fun to see the influence he'd had on her, and the different turns she took with it, and some of the stuff she came up with that was different from some of the stuff he came up with...but I doubt anyone else would care about that, the theme of How One of My Favorite Authors Influenced Another of My Favorite Authors by Marrying One Another and Doubtlessly Talking of Book Ideas to Each Other. Yeah, only I'm freak enough for that.

The best thing about this particular book (for me, I mean) was the way it accurately captured the feeling of being a mom—especially the claustrophobia, worry, and exhaustion that goes along with it—helped me feel a little more human. (McKinley always does. Thanks, Robin.) I have to get a quote...let's see...*rummaging for several minutes through said book, occasionally getting distracted by re-reading some good passages, until finally, 40 minutes later*...Ah! Here:

"giving up your life to keep someone else alive is kind of hard"

Well, okay, it doesn't seem like much, but the first time I read it the truth of it resonated in me like I was a bell that had just been struck. Kind of a big "duh" moment for wynne. I love it when authors can do that for me. The thing is, the narrator of the story, Jake, had a baby dragon imprint on him, and he became its mother, without having an idea of how to take care of it. And he was like any mom with a newborn: constant feedings, constant care, and like he said, he had to give up his life as he knew it, and he was just a 14-year-old kid.

Here are two more examples of the kind of stuff that she was writing that resonated with me:

"Proud Mom. Obsessed Mom. Silly with relief for even a few feet and a few minutes of semi-freedom Mom."

"But those first few months, the stronger the panicky sense of being trapped by this little live thing that was utterly dependent on me and only me got, the stronger the dreams got..."

(dreams that comforted him, thankfully)

I don't think I made my point very well, but, really, that was the best part of the book for me. But that's only because I have weird personal problems and really bad postpartum depression with my first, only (and very likely, last) child, right? Does everyone feel that way? Jake did, and that helped me. Yeah, I'm so not getting the point across. Oh well—on to the next book!

Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson

2008-01-04T23:00:00.001-08:00

Hattie Big Sky
by Kirby Larson

I've read a few books about homesteading in America—My Antonia, Our Only May Amelia, Little House in the Big Woods—and most have been pretty good.

This one was excellent.

I didn't start reading it expecting much, not even a few chapters in, but the farther in I got...well. The first thing I began to think was how spoiled I was pressed up against a baseboard heater reading it while it is a mere 39 degrees outside, while Hattie was living through a frozen Montana winter with little else between her and the harsh world was a shack, a cat, and a wood stove. (I so would've died. I'd make a lousy pioneer.)

Also, it seems that most books these days leave religion entirely out of the equation, or dance around it, or if it is put in, it seems so...forced, sappy, and sentimental (not to mention self-conscious). But Hattie, who is a religious person of sorts—her conversations with God were so natural and beautiful, as was her faith. It was refreshing to read that. (And because she was so honest, it was assuming or forceful—just there and peaceful.)

Also, the ending wasn't neat and tidy, wrapped with a bow, as happens in some stories (and of course, there's nothing wrong with that, unless it is a story where the author is really trying for authenticity and reality). There was heartache, and mess, and the story sometimes came to a place I wasn't expecting. More like life, if you know what I mean.

And that's all I'll say about it, because I don't want to spoil it for anyone else. (It's only lousy books that I'll blow parts of the plot out into the open, like that incredibly stupid book I read before this one.)

Pemberly by Emma Tennant

2008-01-04T22:58:00.000-08:00

Pemberly
by Emma Tennant

What a load of horse manure. Really. I didn't start reading this book with much in the way of expectations (at least, I didn't think so). Since this is a sequel to a classic novel, I was by no means expecting it to live up to Austen's work, and I was prepared for some stupidity and dishonesty to Austen's characters and themes—after all, that's what happens when someone tries to write a sequel to a work they didn't write. (Hello, Scarlett, anyone?)

And yet, I still picked it up hopefully, since I had had some good experiences with similar Austen-esque material of late (such as this and this). And I was willing to forgive the book's shortcomings. I really WAS! But I must admit, I was unprepared for how bad this novel was. Really and truly, utterly baaaaaad.

So there was no witty dialogue—not too surprising. Who can imitate Austen's dialogue? And there were bits and pieces of lines stolen from the original book, also to be expected (it's like the author thinks this is cute or something to put in a bit of the original book's language—why? To prove that they have indeed read the novel they are attempting a sequel to?) The plot twists and the things that Tennant did with Austen's characters was at first entertaining and amusing—she killed off Mr. Bennett with a flick of the pen; gave Jane a child and another on the way; made it so Elizabeth and Darcy could not conceive a child of their own; and gave Lydia four under the age of four. All reasonable and interesting (except for the last—the math doesn't add up in Lydia's case, unless she had two sets of twins, which she hadn't). And then there was the idea of all the Bennett sisters and their families, widowed mother, Bingley and his sisters, Darcy and his sister, AND his aunt Lady Catherine all under the roof of Pemberly for Christmas. Intriguing...

However, it soon fell apart and proved to be far beyond the author's grasp and skill. For example, more and more logical errors cropped up throughout the text that just didn't make sense (Lydia's too-many children being one of these): a character knowing something they couldn't possibly have known; people carelessly misplaced and showing up where they couldn't possibly have been, etc. Just bad editing.

And yet, more: It is not possible for me to believe that the estate of Pemberly would be entailed should Darcy be unable to produce an heir. Unbelievable AND shows a sad lack of imagination on the part of the author (by borrowing yet another idea from the original novel and applying it nonsensically).

And then she begins to slaughter my favorite characters: some dialougue that is meant to pass off as Elizabeth's wit is actually just rude and crass insults; Elizabeth's independence and spirit is reduced to mere pigheadedness and selfishness; she allows Darcy's reserve and delicacy to lead him, after getting into an argument with his wife, to simply walk out on her without a word, and leave her alone for an entire season; after this episode, Elizabeth does not attempt to communicate with her estranged husband but begins to pursue a life as a governess. Apparently she does not understand the characters she is writing AT ALL.

And the crowning glory of stupidity, the most horrid thing of all, was to solve all the problems in the Darcys' marriage by a crass deux ex machina: it wasn't Darcy who had had a mistress and fathered an illegitimate child off her, oh no! It was Bingley—honest, open, kind, moral BINGLEY—and Jane, fresh from the sickbed from delivering a son for him, was perfectly fine with it—!

It was gross and ridiculous, awkward and preposterous, full of errors as I stated before, and ... and ... heavens, I don't believe in burning books, but if I ever needed to start a fire and was short on kindling, this book would be the first to go in. And I would probably enjoy ripping the pages from the spine and tossing them in. Blech.

The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper

2008-01-04T22:30:00.000-08:00

The Last of the Mohicans
by James Fenimore Cooper

I've always wondered how some books become "classics." It is truly quality and originality that transcend time? Or is it, sometimes, luck that makes a book popular (it's more of a fad then a "classic"), but the luck holds and even manages to grant the book longevity?

For example, I've read several books that I can't believe are classics—has anyone read any of the Tarzan books by Edgar Rice Burroughs, for example? Or even things like Uncle Tom's Cabin—completely racist (while trying to be propaganda for anti-slavery), political, and flat, that had a definite purpose at the time, but why are we still reading it now? And I've always thought Wuthering Heights a bit of...well, a gothic flop, if you must know. And yet, they are still classics.

I think this may very well be one of these books. It's an exciting* adventure story with plenty of violence and action. The characters are static and exaggerated (Cora is set up as the epitome of all lovely womanliness and virtue; Uncas as a paragon of masculine and Native American virtue and strength; Magua a representation of the Native American cruelty, cunning, and selfishness; Hawk-Eye the symbol of American resilience, cunning, strength, and the attempt to blend the Old World and the New). So, all characters are larger-than-life, not particularly believable, and occasionally annoying (especially Hawk-Eye and his long-winded ramblings about his world view—which never changes, just gets repeated over and over and over...blech).

And all these cardboard cut-outs go and have a big, hairy adventure that has a tragic ending. Fine for a stock fiction novel, I suppose, but for a classic? I must say, if it was just adventure and action I wanted, I much prefer the movie (especially after the interesting things they did to the original plot—a much more riveting story, I think).

Though I shouldn't be so hard on the book. There are some things about it that are of worth, such as taking a look at frontier life through the eyes of Cooper. Some historians give him a great deal of credit for accuracy, especially to the extent that he understood the Native American cultures.

Also, the thematic undercurrents of race were interesting: each race seemed to consider itself superior to the others, and everyone considered themselves as superior to the blacks (even though there was only one character who had a trace of black ancestry in her, which was carefully hidden). It was a time in history steeped in prejudice. Of course it was.

The great thing is that Cooper himself was not racist in the sense that he thought one race was better to another (which idea I got through Hawk-Eye and his incessant monologues), but he did feel that the different races were fundamentally different—had different world views, talents, and abilities more as a result of differing cultures. After all, Cora, who I've mentioned before set up as the epitome of womanliness, was the person whose mother was partially black. (But before I can argue that Cooper wasn't racist, it was, after all, Cora whom he sacrificed at the end, and her white sister he let live on.)

But, hey, even after an interesting dip into a the literary theory of "race," I'm not likely to read this book again.

*Exciting for the time it was written, I mean. I found the action a little dull, used to things like, oh, television and movies, you know.

Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron

2008-01-04T20:50:00.000-08:00

The Higher Power of Lucky
by Susan Patron

Enjoyable, quirky, funny, even touching—is there a better way to do Young Adult Literature? What I like best about it, though, is the sense of place that Patron develops—the overly-small town, the oddities of the characters that would live in such a place—even her focusing on desert wildlife (such as it is—mostly insects and arachnids)—through all that, the LIFE of a tiny desert town really rang true.

Other things that I liked: when she wrote about Lucky and used imagery like "brain crevices" and "meanness glands;" the way she had Lucky eavesdropping on an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting to try to figure out more about a "higher power;" the way she wrote Lucky period; the sense of pathos of small lives affected by things bigger than themselves and how they deal with it (on all sorts of levels, from the desert critters, to the children in the town, to the entire town itself).

One trouble I had with the book was a personal one: the setting was so strong it left the aftertaste of the desert in my mouth, which I found unpleasant. (The story is set in the Mojave Desert, where I just happened to grow up—though in a different part than Lucky did—however, it hit a little too close to home in some areas for me.)

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

2008-01-04T11:00:00.000-08:00

The Turn of the Screw
by Henry James

I've read Henry James before, and greatly enjoyed his...er, psychology, I guess you could say. And I had heard this particular work mentioned many times—I know it was adapted for the stage as well—but somehow, in all that, I somehow missed this was a ghost story. (If I'd known, I probably would have read it in October.)

The most terrible thing (meaning the scariest element of the work, not how terrible the work is, of course) about the story is the way the characters of the two children use passive-aggressiveness. Or, rather, the way they play head games with the narrator, their governess. That, and the way he uses euphemisms to frighten ("horrible" things that the children have done and that were done to them were hinted at constantly, but the only thing he lets us know for sure is that a Mr. Quint (now deceased and haunting the house) had an affair with Miss Jessel (also currently deceased and haunting the house) and that the two ghosts spent a great deal of time in the company of the children while living, were "bad" people, and are now haunting the children, who enjoy the haunting). Every bit of evil and past sin is only hinted at, which allows the reader's imagination to fill in the gaps with just as much horror as they can imagine. I suppose that James, like Hitchcock, understood that the truly scary stuff is the stuff you can't see/know.

I did enjoy it, but I admit that living in a time where everything is tell-all, and people are given the facts of every gory detail, the story was...well, not very scary, and a little frustrating with all the information it did withhold. But there you have it. Maybe James intended to frustrate me personally. (Yeah, not likely.)

Borgel by Daniel Pinkwater

2008-01-04T10:00:00.000-08:00

Borgel
by Daniel Pinkwater

Pinkwater puzzles me. By all accounts, I should love this guy's writing: he's silly, and random, and odd. Normally I really like silly, I love random (isn't that the charm behind things like Monty Python and Douglas Adam's novels?), and I AM odd.

Buuut...somehow, I really haven't gotten IN to Pinkwater. This isn't the first one of his books that I've tried, but this is the first that I liked. And I'm still baffled that I'm not in love with him. Oh well. Maybe in some other decade?

I guess if you want a synopsis, the book is about a kid who has an Uncle Borgel show up one day to live with his family. They have no idea who he is, but they take him in. Turns out that he is actually from another planet and he lets the kid and the family dog go with him on his interstellar travels in an old car. And they get to see, among many different things, a magical, cosmic Popsicle.

See? I should love this! But I don't. I'm puzzled. I mean, why not?

Moon-Flash by Patricia A McKillip

2007-10-31T22:13:00.001-07:00

Moon-Flash
by Patricia A. McKillip

I've enjoyed a lot of McKillip's stuff. She writes a beautiful fairy tale (or fantasy novel, if you prefer to call them that). And her style is eloquent and beautiful without overwhelming the story...I've really enjoyed lots of her books!

But this one? A cross-over into science fiction? Hmm....

At first I was pretty skeptical, and for good reason: the beginning is set in a primitive, simple place—which wouldn't be bad at all, normally, but since it's a sci-fi novel you know where it's going to lead: simple, happy people meet technology for the first time, and what do they think of it? etc. Been done many, many times.

But, as usual, she drew me in and took me places I wasn't expecting, and drew both truth and depth out of the story. By the end of the book, I had to admit I thoroughly enjoyed it. Hooray for McKillip!

Sorcery & Cecilia by Patricia C. Wrede AND Caroline Stevermer

2007-10-31T10:17:00.002-07:00

Sorcery & Cecelia or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot
by Patricia C. Wrede and Caroline Stevermer

I LOVED this book. It was thoroughly fun from start to finish.

Jane Austen and sorcery? Yeah, it has been done before to some extent (like Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell), but I liked this one better. It is entirely composed of correspondence between two ladies in Austen's England: one in London, and one in the country. And they have a very interesting time...

Really. If you like Jane Austen, and you don't mind a little bit of magic mixed in, this book is really too much fun to miss.

Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn

2007-10-31T10:17:00.001-07:00

Ella Minnow Pea
by Mark Dunn

This book is clever. Maybe too clever. Really so clever it verges on annoying. But that is because it's a story not so much about characters (which is what I generally prefer: strong characters), or even driven by plot. It's a story about an idea. So of course it's clever. And if you like plot and character and that sort of thing, you might just find it annoying.

Not to say that there isn't characterization or a plot—there is--but it takes a back seat to the idea. It reminded me a bit of stories about utopian societies gone awry—Animal Farm, 1984, Orwell stuff in general—but the main point of the story is what would happen if we were no longer able to use certain letters of the alphabet, and we kept losing them, one by one?

And it's actually an appealing idea to me. So I did enjoy the story. And Dunn must've had a great time writing this, especially when he was writing toward the end of the book and only had a handful of letters left that he could use. I almost think that it was more fun for him to write it than it was to read? Who knows. Guess it depends on the person reading it!

The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy

2007-10-31T10:17:00.000-07:00

The Scarlet Pimpernel
by Baroness Orczy

I don't know entirely what I was expecting when I picked this up. Something similar to Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities, perhaps? Or a little Les Miserables? What did I know about the Reign of Terror except what I've read in novels, anyhow?

What I was not expecting was a swash-buckling romance. (I've never seen any of the numerous "Scarlet Pimpernel" movies, of course. If I had, I probably would have known what was coming.)

It is a story about a larger-than-life hero. Reminded me a great deal of James Bond, in fact, with one huge difference: Bond is the generic male's fantasy of what the coolest guy on earth would be like; the Scarlet Pimpernel is the generic woman's fantasy of the world's most desirable man. (Honestly, the richest man in Europe, devastatingly handsome, cares about what he wears, impeccably polite, and completely hides it all from the world so he can be secretly the bravest and most daring man in the world? Come on! Complete and total fantasy!)

There are other parallels, too: the Pimp's alter-ego is a complete buffoon (Hmm...Clark Kent took a page from his book); the Pimp has a secret room in his home where he conducts all his pimpy business that is accessible only to his valet (Bruce Wayne was paying attention to this, no doubt, and also to the fact that oodles of money can be very handy when you are in the business of rescuing people). And so I have seen the birthplace of many modern heroes in this book. (Unless, of course, there is a hero who leads a double life before Orczy's novel? Probably...)

It was a fun read: Orczy knows how to build the suspense and build an entertaining story. If the romance was a trifle...well, unrealistic, and if the main protagonist, Margurite (she is the protagonist more than the Pimpernel, of course: we see everything through her eyes) who is described repeatedly as the "cleverest woman in Europe" often behaves like an idiot with wool for brains, well, it's still very entertaining and fun to read.

Napoli Overdose

2007-10-15T21:02:00.000-07:00

So it's not really an overdose. But it should be. I mean, how much can you read by one author at one time? Should you read all of their works in a week's time? Probably not. But I did read a lot of Donna Jo Napoli over the last two weeks, and I'm not sick of her at all. Quite the opposite. I started with...

Ugly

...a retelling of the Ugly Duckling. Set in Australia. Well, why not?

Her stuff is imaginative, researched, and thoughtful. What indeed would it take for a lone chick to survive in the wild? What would that bird think after being rejected by the only family he knew? How in the world would he discover who he really was?

Light reading, but so nice. The mother duck really was quite wonderful, and the little swan brave. And Napoli doesn't play down the harsh reality of life and survival in the wild, and the Australian critters were so interesting to read about.

Writing about it makes it seem kinda lame, but it really wasn't at all. Really. I especially loved the friends that he manages to make along the way. (Okay, now that really makes it seem lame, but it ISN'T, I promise!)

Since I'm just slaughtering this, let's move on to the next:

The Prince of the Pond series:

1. The Prince of the Pond
2. Jimmy, the Pickpocket of the Palace
3. Gracie, the Pixie of the Puddle

All three stories are short and sweet, but they have such life in them! What indeed happened to the frog prince while he was a frog? How difficult would it be for him to figure out how to be a frog? And would he do what all froggies do—swim, eat bugs, have a family? And would he try to do it like a frog, or like a man?

And then, after he becomes a prince again by the princess kissing him—then what? Would he miss his life in the pond? Or would the life in the pond miss him?

It was a good series, and surprisingly touching. The ending of the first two books were very bittersweet—and the ending of the third quite a bit happier, though a little bittersweet still.

I love how she researched everything in and out (lots of strange factoids about frogs in here) and literally had to think like a frog to be able to write about so many frogs. Thoughtful and honest. Yeah, I like Napoli.

Halloween Reads

2007-10-13T20:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, no reason to re-invent the wheel. I already did this post over at my main blog, but I figured, why not put a link here, too? I mean, it's not like anyone ever sees this blog, so who cares, right?

I did finish Tamsin again, and, oh, I do love that book. What could be spookier than reading about The Wild Hunt when it's windy outside? Go, Peter S. Beagle!

The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett

2007-08-19T23:22:00.000-07:00

The Light Fantastic
by Terry Pratchett

I love Pratchett. I have read many of his books by now (all in the Discworld series, I think), and I never cease to be amazed by his ability to write something completely and utterly silly, and, at the same time, that can carry so much satire and commentary on today's world. Seriously.

This is one of the earliest books in the Discworld series—the second book, perhaps?—with the marvelous characters of the inept wizard Rincewind and the irrepressible tourist Twoflower (who teaches Death to play bridge), and of course, Cohen the Aged Barbarian.

I will be reading Pratchett forever. I love this guy.

Stardust by Neil Gaiman

2007-08-19T23:20:00.000-07:00

Stardust
by Neil Gaiman

This is not the first book I've read by this author. I tried Coraline a few years ago and really didn't care for it. (My main complaint was although the story was very imaginative, the characterization was...I can't quite remember if I could call it "weak," all I remember is that I could've cared less what happened to the characters. A huge flaw for a reader like me, who primarily reads for the characterization.) I've also read Good Omens (written by Gaiman and Terry Pratchett), and I liked that book a great deal, but I attributed that to Pratchett.

But I'll take it back. I really liked this book. It may have something to do with my penchant for fairy tales and how I'm always searching for authors to write new fairy tales for me. And the fact that this was a brilliant fairy tale, very imaginative and beautiful. I loved the three old witches in the wood; the brothers killing each other off for the crown; the woman enchanted to be a bird; the fallen star. And even the bits of humor and wisdom that got thrown in...very nice read.

The ending, however, was a little anti-climatic. When the witch finally meets the star, I was expecting some kind of a showdown, not just a conversation. It works with the story, of course, and it is a nice ending, but it didn't end with a bang. Not that all books have to, of course, but it left me feeling like I had just watched another Hayao Miyazaki film where so much could have been built up to some incredible climax, but he always sidesteps the big boom, and everyone ends up friends at the end, warm fuzzies all around...

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J. K. Rowling

2007-08-19T23:19:00.000-07:00

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
by J. K. Rowling

This was a re-read, of course, as I was warming up for Book 7. This has been one of my favorites of the series (so far; and I have to say I enjoyed Book 3 just as well). As I finished it this time, I was mostly left with questions and anticipations about Book the Last. Snape is definitely playing a double game—but for which side, and what is he aiming for? How will it end? Who will die? Will Draco experience a change of heart and help Harry by the end? How will the book go with no Hogwarts as a backdrop? Then there are the general romantic questions—like who will Luna end up with? Gwarp?

And is it really going to end? What if I don't want it to?

*SPOILER*
One thing about this book that I was very glad to see: Dumbledore is dead. Now, don't get me wrong; it's not that I don't love Dumbledore, and I am the type to cry over a book, so I definitely did at the end; it's just that I was getting tired of him rescuing Harry. He made exceptions, broke rules, explained away problems...and I like Harry, too, but for heaven's sake, I want to see him stand on his own! (Another reason to look forward to Book 7 to see what Rowling does...)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

2007-08-19T23:18:00.000-07:00

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
by J. K. Rowling

I can't believe it's over.

But there it is: it's over. Now what? Oh yeah, time to go read Eclipse with the rest of the Edward/Jacob junkies.

The nice thing about this book was that Harry really comes into his own. By the end, he's really...well, matured. He's come a ways from the nasty bitter snot that I hated in book 5 who attempted Unforgiveable Curses...

And sure, there are holes in the plot and in the overall structure of the seven books, but really, who cares? Rowling put 17 years of sweat and tears into this, and I'm grateful to her for it. I thought it was a great ending. It worked for me.

And I don't want to put any spoilers in, so I'll just say that the last bit of the book was a pretty suspenseful read. Hard to put the book down to eat or sleep or take care of my poor kid. (Lucky for him, I finished the book in...two days? Or was it three?)

A Slew of Things

2007-07-20T23:18:00.000-07:00

Just because I have been busy lately doesn't mean I haven't been reading. Actually, it is hard to imagine a life in which I wouldn't be reading. I suppose it would be a life in which my eyes were gouged out, my eardrums burst and consequently, my hearing was lost (so I could not listen to books on tape), and my fingertips have fallen off (because in the case of the first two events, I would have learned Braille). And my toes and tongue, for that matter. In other words, it would never happen.

So. I have been reading. And here they are:

Zel by Donna Jo Napoli

2007-07-20T23:16:00.000-07:00

Zel
by Donna Jo Napoli

I just finished this one a mere twenty minutes ago. I love this author!
This was a retelling of the story of Rapunzel. There were no real twists or clever takes on anything, just brilliant storytelling. (When I first read Napoli, I found her style rather...sparse, simple. Ha! She is graceful with her words, and chooses them carefully. That is all.)

Zel and her Mother, the witch, are so wonderfully characterized and crafted, and as always, Napoli blesses them both after their pain and madness with a touch of redemption...wonderful, wonderful!

Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman

2007-07-20T23:15:00.000-07:00

Catherine, Called Birdy
by Karen Cushman

This has been a favorite for a long time, since I first discovered it in college. I have to reread it every few years or so because it is a very funny book, and insightful. I love Catherine's character, I love how the story is told, and I love, love, love how she gets rid of her would-be suitors. Hooray for spunky women in books!

The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown

2007-07-20T23:14:00.000-07:00

The Da Vinci Code
by Dan Brown

I did enjoy reading this book; I enjoyed all the history, the religion, the "reveals." The action was okay, but I wouldn't have read this book for just the action. (Brown is really kind of a hack when it comes to that sort of thing--his characters offer nothing in particular, the action is pretty run-of-the-mill--it's the information that gets me.)

Not that most of the information was new to me. For pity's sake, I took a senior course in college entitled "Arthurian Legends" so of course the Grail was covered, and the professor told us about most of the stuff that was in here: how the quest for the Grail was really a quest for Christ's bloodline; what the Knights Templar were really up to; how the Catholic church perpetuated sexism and why; symbolism up the yin yang. (Especially symbolism. I wrote a twenty-page paper just on archetypal numbers in Arthurian legend, so of course the pentagram came up.)

And of course, it leaves me wondering just how much of this book is based upon solid research, and how much is Brown's fancy, but it still opens up all kinds of possibilities to me. It was cool for me to get his perspective on the Nicean council, for example. But how much of it is true? I almost wonder enough to actually go research it. Almost.

And the thing that bothers me the most: Brown can take the plunge to consider that Christ was married, that he had at least one child, that he was a feminist. But how can being married and having a child prove that you are not divine? Brown was very clear in proving everything else, so how could he leave that one fallacy unexplored and untested, making some assumption on some belief of the old Catholic church somewhere: sex is evil, and having children makes you mortal? Ridiculous, considering the rest of the book. Oh well.

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine

2007-07-20T23:12:00.000-07:00

Ella Enchanted
by Gail Carson Levine

If you have not read the book, but you have seen the movie, I am so, so sorry. That movie was an absolute travesty. Really, really dumb.

But the book is wonderful. Yet another retelling of a fairy tale (yes, I know, I read a lot of those), this one of Cinderella. Like Catherine, Called Birdy it is witty and enjoyable, and Ella has some real spunk. Like the Goose Girl, it's all about girl-power, and in the end, it's Ella who saves her prince. And she breaks her own curse, of course. And it is a little silly, too, but if it weren't, would it be so much fun?

Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor by Stephanie Barron

2007-07-20T23:11:00.000-07:00

Jane and the Unpleasantness at Scargrave Manor
Stephanie Barron

A friend sent me this one. (Thanks, Marie!) And it is a very entertaining read. Jane Austen as Columbo. Can you imagine the possibilities? Of course, I love Jane Austen, and a good mystery is always entertaining.

And that's it for now. Next up: Terry Pratchett. Can't wait!

Rereads

2007-04-30T22:07:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been in a rereading phase. Apparently my brain can't handle the stimulus of something new, so I've been revisiting some books I've enjoyed in the past. And here they come:

The Goose Girl, by Shannon Hale

2007-04-30T15:34:00.001-07:00

I just finished this again, and enjoyed it just as much the second time.

I'm always on the quest for a good fairy tale. I don't know why, but I've always found them appealing. I have...I don't know how many collections of fairy tales sitting around the house, and I like them. Princes, princesses, mistaken identities, magical items, quests, impossible tasks—it seems so juvenile to say it all aloud, but I still like it. I like the truth hiding in them, the symbolism that I don't have to look for or even think about—it's just there, and let my subconscious root through it if it really wants to—I'm just looking for story. And better yet, there are always missing bits of story in fairy tales. You are told that the prince must knock three times on the gold door with the glass key, but not why. That sleeping beauty won't die, merely sleep for a hundred years, but is one hundred an arbitrary number, or is there a reason behind it? Why seven dwarves, and not eight? I like to imagine my own whys...

Back to this particular book—the Goose Girl. It is a retelling of the Brothers' Grimm fairy tale of the same name. (If you want the plot rundown of the original fairy tale, this is one place you could look.)

My favorite thing about this particular retelling is that she isn't being rescued by anyone, which is modified from the Grimm version. (Hooray for a strong female character!) She starts off pretty helpless, sure, and there's a prince who does want to help her and protect her, but in the end, she ends up saving him. I love it that she grows up, gains a world of confidence, and ends up rescuing herself from a hopeless situation, and all in under 400 pages.

My slight disappointment about this book: It doesn't seem to go quite...deep...enough; the characters don't quite ring true to me; for such a tense situation the characterization is just a wee bit on the light 'n' fluffy side (and actually, this might be a plus to a lot of people—I don't know). After all the tension is over, the heroine is enjoying a moment to herself after a bath—a real bath, after all that she's been through!—and she is finally, after months and months, safe and at peace. At that point, I was expecting her to break down since she was finally in a position safe enough to do so. Y'know, like any real person would have done who had been through all the trauma she had...instead, she's hangin' out with a friend, making jokes, sipping grape juice. Whatever. It felt too emotionally easy to me, but then, I'm a freak. And it's such a small flaw.

But now my appetite for fairy tales is whetted.... More, more, more! There are an absolute ton of retellings out there these days, and here are a few that I have found and liked:

The Magic Circle by Donna Jo Napoli (retelling of "Hansel and Gretel" from the witch's point of view)
Deerskin by Robin McKinley (retelling of "Donkeyskin"—Warning: this one is emotionally difficult, which is why it's sooo good)
Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine (retelling of "Cinderella")
Mira, Mirror by Mette Ivie Harrison (retelling of "Cinderella" from the mirror's point of view)
Enchantment by Orson Scott Card (retelling of "Sleeping Beauty" with a modern twist, sort of)
I, Coriander by Sally Gardner (retelling of "Cinderella" yet again)

Plenty of the above authors, especially the first two, have a ton more fairy tale retellings. I just mentioned my favorite (that I have read so far) from each author.

Also, if you're not interested in a retelling, but would like to read some fairy tales that are a bit more fresh:

Nearly anything by the fantasy author Patricia A. McKillip. She's caught the essence of fairy tale in nearly every book she's written, but my favorite is The Forests of Serre
George MacDonald has got quite a few, my favorite being The Light Princess

If you know of some more, please let me know! I need something fresh...

Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer

2007-04-30T14:45:00.001-07:00

Note: This was originally posted over at the book club blog, so just in case you want to see it in it's original context, here you go.

I just finished my re-reading of this book, and I now have a new perspective on it.

I have a bone to pick.

It isn’t with the book—it was actually executed perfectly and achieved exactly what it intended to for the audience it was written for—but rather with our culture that perpetuates this sort of…well…

Let me start by saying the first time I read it, I couldn’t put it down and finished it quickly. The tension was grand and I had to know what happened next. As soon as I was done with it, I picked it up again and re-read some favorite bits. I was obsessed. I read it so quickly I didn’t have the time to be annoyed with anything. And it was so gratifying—so satisfying—to see a person so infatuated with another and have the infatuation equally returned. Exciting read.

And Marie, I completely agree with you about the sex thing—how refreshing was that to have some characters try restraint for a change? Nice touch.

But now that I have read it again, and the bloom of that first rush is over…well, there was one thing that really bothered me, and then there is that bone I mentioned.

The first thing: Edward. Of course he is ridiculous as a real person, but it’s all okay because, after all, he’s not a real person, he is a vampire. I’m fine with the fact that he sparkles, that he smells wonderful, that he can read minds. I can even accept that when he sneaks into her bedroom at night to watch her sleep, this is considered sweet instead of downright creepy. What I can’t handle is how much he “took care” of Bella. I’m not talking about him saving her life—that’s all hunky-dory—and it’s great that he makes her feel so safe, even when he’s tempted to eat her. I like that. But it’s when she says something like “put me down” or “I can walk” or even “please, Eddie, I can feed myself, that’s why I have hands”, and he ignores it, and forces her to do what he thinks is best for her own good/to keep her safe/whatever. That I don’t like. No one needs to be rescued all the time, and if someone insists on rescuing you from little things that you don’t need rescuing from at all—well, it’s demeaning. It promotes helplessness. Why didn’t Bella feel like a useless twit by the end of the novel? Drove me crazy. Enough about that, though.

The big bone, the bone that really has more to do with our culture than with this book, is this: What is the difference between infatuation and love? I think that pop culture confuses the two. Of course it does. But—how do I begin?

I don’t believe in “love at first sight.” Infatuation at first sight? Oh, yeah: that instant rush of attraction, the high of meeting someone new and finding much of yourself, your interests, your values being reflected out of them and back into yourself, and the anticipation of getting to know them better and experiencing more of the same. Yes. And infatuation often leads a couple into the more mature relationship of love. (This is how I see it, anyway.)

What I am opposed to is how pop culture confuses the two, and how the addicting rush that goes with infatuation is labeled “romance.” The problem is infatuation ALWAYS dies, without exception, and if you’ve gotten lucky, love takes its place: a feeling much less heady, but more hardy. Infatuation brings two together, but love is what keeps them, seals them, brings the two into one. Love is caring about another more than yourself, whereas infatuation is powered by self-love: being able to see reflections of yourself in another.

Okay. I did my best to explain my views—have no idea if it makes sense, but oh well—time to move onward. This book is saturated with infatuation and the rush that goes with it. (Ooo…it’s so romantic!) Positively dripping. I was looking at some of the responses to the book, and noticed that more than one person (myself included) used words like “obsessed” “addicting” “fascinating” and “rush” when describing this book. We're all obsessed because it's about obsession. And that's fine, as far as it goes.

It bothers me, not because I think that Bella and Edward aren’t going to arrive at love (because of course they will—with such a strong foundation of sacrifice and restraint, they’ll be just fine), but because I’m afraid the author won't let them. What if she believes, deep in her romantic heart, that infatuation should always last? What if she has bought into pop culture's stupidity about "romance?" And because she is the author, and she can do what she likes, she makes it so that they are always stuck in infatuation? (Two teenagers, together forever, absorbed in each other to an unhealthy degree for eternity. Ugh. If a vampire truly is damned for eternity as Edward believes, is there a better way to damn him then to be eternally infatuated with your food?)

I’m bothered because when it comes to love, I don’t want a fantasy. I want the real thing. I want a relationship with real intimacy (meaning really knowing each other, all the good and the bad, getting absolutely sick of each other and still loving each other—reality, you know?) and there is no evidence in this book that these two are at that point, or that the author will ever let them get to that point until she puts down her pen (or stops typing, as the case may be). And
I feel cheated.

And...this is too long and too much about the baggage inside my head rather than the book. My apologies.

And this doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop reading the series. Heavens, no. It’s a guilty pleasure, like eating an entire bag of Hershey’s miniatures in one sitting (when Jeff isn’t looking, of course) because even though I know it’s not good for me, I just can’t STOP.