age: Ya
genre: dystopia, sci-fi
rating: 5/8 tentacles
Todd
Hewitt lives on a planet where everyone's thoughts are psychically
broadcast, even animals. When Todd finds something strange in the
swamp, his stepfathers present him with his dead mother's journal and a
map and urge him to escape town. Todd discovers that much of what he's
been raised to believe is a lie. Interesting premise dealing with
privacy, truth, and innocence.
Ness writes skillfully (although
he overdoes the dialect a little in my opinion). I like the interaction
between Todd and Viola. I liked watching Todd slowly make sense of the
world, and could empathize with the frustration he felt when his
ignorance was proven to him again and again. The way that Patrick Ness
deals with the conflicts that would naturally arise from a world in
which every man can see into every other man's mind, and only women can
keep their thoughts private, adds ambiguous complexity to the story.
I
did not like the way that readers were excluded from secrets revealed
to the main characters. Withholding information creates suspense, but
if withheld for too long, readers will become frustrated. If I'm going
to watch somebody show or explain something to Todd, I want to be in on
it. Especially if the "big reveal" later on isn't all that exciting and
I could've guessed the big secret. Just tell me. What is the point of
writing in first person if I don't get to experience everything Todd
experiences.
I also don't like Todd because of a thing he did
(didn't do) that I can't tell you about. His actions are often portrayed
in a manner that seems to suggest a moral lesson, which annoys me. It
feels forced to praise a character who shuns murder, even in situations
where killing would be a legitimate defense, or would protect a loved
one. To me, this is not admirable. It's cowardly and stupid. It's
also a little implausible considering the conditions that Todd was
raised in, right? Todd goes on and on about how some people grew up in
luxury while in his town, people had to fight to survive. But then he
only fights to survive up to a certain point. I guess personality can
trump environment and up-bringing? I don't know. I feel skeptical about
this.
Anyway, the writing is solid and I love the idea of Noise. On to the sequel!
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Review: All You Never Wanted by Adele Griffin
age: YA
genre: realistic fiction
rating: 8/8 tentacles
Alex Parrott, high school senior and former It girl, struggles through a nervous breakdown as her younger sister Thea fights to claim a place for herself in the high school hierarchy. While Alex wastes away in her room, Thea performs the new self she's cultivated, spreads lies, and flaunts her step father's money.
This book is great. The writing is beautiful and real. It's gut writing. It's poetry. I wish I could be this good.
The novel is split between Alex and Thea's perspectives. Alex's chapters are written in third person and Thea's in first. (Interesting, interesting.) The characters possess a human complexity that makes them engaging and relatable, if not likable.
Love this book. I will definitely be reading more of Adele Griffin.
genre: realistic fiction
rating: 8/8 tentacles
Alex Parrott, high school senior and former It girl, struggles through a nervous breakdown as her younger sister Thea fights to claim a place for herself in the high school hierarchy. While Alex wastes away in her room, Thea performs the new self she's cultivated, spreads lies, and flaunts her step father's money.
This book is great. The writing is beautiful and real. It's gut writing. It's poetry. I wish I could be this good.
The novel is split between Alex and Thea's perspectives. Alex's chapters are written in third person and Thea's in first. (Interesting, interesting.) The characters possess a human complexity that makes them engaging and relatable, if not likable.
Love this book. I will definitely be reading more of Adele Griffin.
Review: Sapphire Blue by Kirsten Gier
age: YA
genre: sci-fi, time travel
rating: 6/8 tentacles
I feel like sometimes there's no point reviewing sequels. I could copy and paste my review of Ruby Red here and I think it would make complete sense and be mostly accurate. Same likable characters, same mystery, same time travelling fun, same incomplete arc. At the end I turned the page expecting the story to continue and then thought wait, that's it? It just ended?
Luckily I got distracted/lazy/something and didn't get around to reading this until a while after publication, so I don't have to wait very long for the next installment, which I am excited for. This is the kind of fun book that leaves you wanting more of the same. Now I just have to wait til October.
P.S. I hate Charlotte and want terrible things to happen to her. I want her to be exposed as the useless, spineless, fraud that she is. Someone needs to slap her.
P.P.S. I hope Gideon turns out to be evil. I'm tired of predictable romances.
genre: sci-fi, time travel
rating: 6/8 tentacles
I feel like sometimes there's no point reviewing sequels. I could copy and paste my review of Ruby Red here and I think it would make complete sense and be mostly accurate. Same likable characters, same mystery, same time travelling fun, same incomplete arc. At the end I turned the page expecting the story to continue and then thought wait, that's it? It just ended?
Luckily I got distracted/lazy/something and didn't get around to reading this until a while after publication, so I don't have to wait very long for the next installment, which I am excited for. This is the kind of fun book that leaves you wanting more of the same. Now I just have to wait til October.
P.S. I hate Charlotte and want terrible things to happen to her. I want her to be exposed as the useless, spineless, fraud that she is. Someone needs to slap her.
P.P.S. I hope Gideon turns out to be evil. I'm tired of predictable romances.
Review: The No Hellos Diet by Sam Pink
age: adult
genre: realistic fiction
rating: 6/8 tentacles
Sam Pink is weird and I like it.
Experience humanity in all its idiosyncratic, mundane glory. In second person.
genre: realistic fiction
rating: 6/8 tentacles
Sam Pink is weird and I like it.
Experience humanity in all its idiosyncratic, mundane glory. In second person.
Review: Seraphina by Rachel Hartman
age: YA
genre: fantasy
rating: 5/8 tentacles
In a world where humans and dragons live in tentative peace after years of wars, Seraphina must conceal the fact that she is half-dragon. Because dragons can take the form of humans, this is not as weird as it sounds.
I love the way that Rachel Hartman sets up the differences between humans and dragons. Her dragons are obsessed with knowledge and logic and lack the ability to mimic the social niceties of humans. I wish I could go around behaving like a dragon. Hartman's worldbuilding is economical and informative and the vocabulary she creates around her dragon culture is fun and lends her world authenticity.
The characters lean a little toward cartoony but the ambiguous subject matter--prejudices against a foreign "race"-- adds back some complexity. As does Seraphina's fear of being found out as a fraud. Even people without secret dragon scales may be able to relate to her insecurities.
I hated the mental garden scenes. We watch as Seraphina withdraws into her imagination and describes creatures that we assume she has made up. This stuff does become relevant later, but until the end of the book, we float away from the plot and the tangible world and waste time hearing about seemingly random creatures that have no anchor in the story and no discernible purpose. I was completely bored during these scenes.
Even though Seraphina drags in places, the premise captivated me and I stayed up late to finish it instead of doing things I was supposed to do. Always a sign of a good book.
genre: fantasy
rating: 5/8 tentacles
In a world where humans and dragons live in tentative peace after years of wars, Seraphina must conceal the fact that she is half-dragon. Because dragons can take the form of humans, this is not as weird as it sounds.
I love the way that Rachel Hartman sets up the differences between humans and dragons. Her dragons are obsessed with knowledge and logic and lack the ability to mimic the social niceties of humans. I wish I could go around behaving like a dragon. Hartman's worldbuilding is economical and informative and the vocabulary she creates around her dragon culture is fun and lends her world authenticity.
The characters lean a little toward cartoony but the ambiguous subject matter--prejudices against a foreign "race"-- adds back some complexity. As does Seraphina's fear of being found out as a fraud. Even people without secret dragon scales may be able to relate to her insecurities.
I hated the mental garden scenes. We watch as Seraphina withdraws into her imagination and describes creatures that we assume she has made up. This stuff does become relevant later, but until the end of the book, we float away from the plot and the tangible world and waste time hearing about seemingly random creatures that have no anchor in the story and no discernible purpose. I was completely bored during these scenes.
Even though Seraphina drags in places, the premise captivated me and I stayed up late to finish it instead of doing things I was supposed to do. Always a sign of a good book.
Review: Another Little Piece by Kate Karyus Quinn
age: YA
genre: horror
rating: 7/8 tentacles
when missing girl annaliese is found after a year, she remembers nothing but the few days she spent wandering before her rescue. returning fragments of memory that don't fit anneliese's life begin to convince her that she's not who everyone thinks she is.
authentic characters, authentic relationships. great mystery that steadily unspools and satiates craving for answers bit by bit instead of ending in a cheap twist. creepy, fun, original. solid writing. read in one day.
genre: horror
rating: 7/8 tentacles
when missing girl annaliese is found after a year, she remembers nothing but the few days she spent wandering before her rescue. returning fragments of memory that don't fit anneliese's life begin to convince her that she's not who everyone thinks she is.
authentic characters, authentic relationships. great mystery that steadily unspools and satiates craving for answers bit by bit instead of ending in a cheap twist. creepy, fun, original. solid writing. read in one day.
Review: Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews
age: YA
genre: realistic fiction, cancer
rating: 7/8 tentacles
this is about a boy who finds out a girl he was sort of friends with once has been diagnosed with cancer. his mom thinks he should be there for her, so he is pushed into the awkward task of reconnecting and beginning a friendship that has an expiration date.
honest, human, compex. fun, youthful voice. cuts out annoying sentimentality and preachy it-will-be-okay messages. imperfect, likable characters. funny--i laughed out loud (for real) a bunch of times. screenplay format successfully integrated into prose (like in Monster, which is also great). read in one day.
genre: realistic fiction, cancer
rating: 7/8 tentacles
this is about a boy who finds out a girl he was sort of friends with once has been diagnosed with cancer. his mom thinks he should be there for her, so he is pushed into the awkward task of reconnecting and beginning a friendship that has an expiration date.
honest, human, compex. fun, youthful voice. cuts out annoying sentimentality and preachy it-will-be-okay messages. imperfect, likable characters. funny--i laughed out loud (for real) a bunch of times. screenplay format successfully integrated into prose (like in Monster, which is also great). read in one day.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Review: Prodigy by Marie Lu
age: ya
genre: dystopia
rating: 4/8 tentacles
This novel is the second in a trilogy. Spoilers for Legend below.
Day and June, after preventing Day's execution, travel to Vegas seeking the Patriots' help. However, the Patriots don't give away anything for free. If Day and June want their assistance, they'll have to play a role in the assassination of the new Elector. When June meets the new leader, she discovers that he may not be the tyrant his father was, and she begins to doubt the necessity of the rebels' plot. As Day and June move forward with the assassination, both become less and less sure of who they can trust, even beginning to doubt each other.
This trust dilemma creates a deliciously ambiguous conflict. With Razor, Patriot leader, on one side, and the new Elector, Anden, on the other, Day and June are divided between destroying the government in a full revolution, or giving the new Elector a chance to steer the existing government in a more positive direction. Which way is the best way? From a reader's perspective, both of these options make sense, and it's easy to empathize with the confusion that Day and June feel, as well as their fear of being manipulated. This representation of the rebels and the ruling authority is refreshingly human, although some of the grey sharpens into black and white as new information is revealed later on.
Although the premise of the plot is intriguing and creates the potential for complexity, its execution leaves much to be desired. In my review of Legend I mentioned the author's tendency to tell rather than show. This continues in Prodigy. The narrative consists of superficial inner monologues that repeat themselves and are overrun with rhetorical questions. Here is the first example I found, flipping through the book:
There are many more instances of this, and it isn't enjoyable to read. We're told what questions we should be asking instead of being lead to consider these possibilities on our own. There are better ways of creating tension in fiction, like through sensory detail or dialogue or descriptions of the behaviors of the characters. Spelling it out like this is boring for me (and other readers, I imagine) and lazy on the part of the writer.
My other problem with Prodigy (and Legend) is June. Everyone finds her beautiful, she wins every battle she fights, she has flawless logic (she conveniently figures everything out before everyone else), her brain is basically a clock (she can tell you exactly how many minutes and seconds have passed between events), she is THE BEST student ever to attend her military college. She's not a person, she's a fantasy, and I find her incredibly flat and boring. What's the point of making her so robotic-ly perfect? If I wasn't so fond of Day, I don't think I could've made it through these two books and if June was the sole protagonist, I'd have given up long ago.
These problems existed in Legend but seem to be amplified here, like the author is giving in to her weaknesses instead of improving on them. I do love the story. I'm interested in the conflict between the Republic and the Colonies. I love Day's relationship with the people of the Republic and the dramatic irony that comes out of his execution (we know he's alive, the people don't). As I said before, I like the way that Lu deals with trust. And I will read Champion as soon as it's released, but I'm crossing my fingers hoping that Lu will learn and grow as a writer because I'm not satisfied with the level of skill exhibited here.
genre: dystopia
rating: 4/8 tentacles
This novel is the second in a trilogy. Spoilers for Legend below.
Day and June, after preventing Day's execution, travel to Vegas seeking the Patriots' help. However, the Patriots don't give away anything for free. If Day and June want their assistance, they'll have to play a role in the assassination of the new Elector. When June meets the new leader, she discovers that he may not be the tyrant his father was, and she begins to doubt the necessity of the rebels' plot. As Day and June move forward with the assassination, both become less and less sure of who they can trust, even beginning to doubt each other.
This trust dilemma creates a deliciously ambiguous conflict. With Razor, Patriot leader, on one side, and the new Elector, Anden, on the other, Day and June are divided between destroying the government in a full revolution, or giving the new Elector a chance to steer the existing government in a more positive direction. Which way is the best way? From a reader's perspective, both of these options make sense, and it's easy to empathize with the confusion that Day and June feel, as well as their fear of being manipulated. This representation of the rebels and the ruling authority is refreshingly human, although some of the grey sharpens into black and white as new information is revealed later on.
Although the premise of the plot is intriguing and creates the potential for complexity, its execution leaves much to be desired. In my review of Legend I mentioned the author's tendency to tell rather than show. This continues in Prodigy. The narrative consists of superficial inner monologues that repeat themselves and are overrun with rhetorical questions. Here is the first example I found, flipping through the book:
If Razor thinks June is safest under Thomas's watch, then so be it. But what are they going to do with June once they've got her? What if something goes wrong, and Congress or the courts do something that Razor didn't plan for? How can he be so sure that everything will go smoothly?
There are many more instances of this, and it isn't enjoyable to read. We're told what questions we should be asking instead of being lead to consider these possibilities on our own. There are better ways of creating tension in fiction, like through sensory detail or dialogue or descriptions of the behaviors of the characters. Spelling it out like this is boring for me (and other readers, I imagine) and lazy on the part of the writer.
My other problem with Prodigy (and Legend) is June. Everyone finds her beautiful, she wins every battle she fights, she has flawless logic (she conveniently figures everything out before everyone else), her brain is basically a clock (she can tell you exactly how many minutes and seconds have passed between events), she is THE BEST student ever to attend her military college. She's not a person, she's a fantasy, and I find her incredibly flat and boring. What's the point of making her so robotic-ly perfect? If I wasn't so fond of Day, I don't think I could've made it through these two books and if June was the sole protagonist, I'd have given up long ago.
These problems existed in Legend but seem to be amplified here, like the author is giving in to her weaknesses instead of improving on them. I do love the story. I'm interested in the conflict between the Republic and the Colonies. I love Day's relationship with the people of the Republic and the dramatic irony that comes out of his execution (we know he's alive, the people don't). As I said before, I like the way that Lu deals with trust. And I will read Champion as soon as it's released, but I'm crossing my fingers hoping that Lu will learn and grow as a writer because I'm not satisfied with the level of skill exhibited here.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Review: Legend by Marie Lu
age: YA
genre: dystopia
rating: 5/8 tentacles
Legend is set in what appears to be the future America, divided and at war. When June, a wealthy orphan and child genius, loses her brother, she is hastily graduated from military school and put on the trail of his killer. Robin Hood type rebel Day, wanted by the Republic for a series of criminal offenses, struggles to procure expensive medication for his family when a never before seen strain of plague infects his brother. Through chapters alternating between these two characters' POVs, readers watch as Day's and June's lives become more and more entangled, drawing them closer to uncovering a horrible secret they never imagined their country was keeping.
June and Day are both authentic, likable characters. Day is a refreshing switch from the smoldering man-whore love interest. He is compassionate and vulnerable and comes across like a mostly regular person. His super powers are agility and cleverness. June's stubborn patriotism clashes nicely with Day's disillusioned deviance, although her child geniusness comes off a little false. She's cool, but she's no Ender.
The plot moves consistently forward and Lu provides us with enough details about the setting to craft a new and intriguing world identity without bogging down the story. However, there's a lot of telling where there could be showing, which--if remedied--would create much more complexity. Maybe I'll find you an example when I have the book in front of me. There are also several passages (and this is a pet peeve of mine) that describe June's outfits and makeup in detail. Nothing wrong with this except that these descriptions are--in general--inserted where tonally inappropriate, where they interrupt the pace, or where they cause inconsistencies with voice. Also I don't care. For example, this is not something that Day would pause to describe to us (he does). Maybe to notice June's dress or her fancy military uniform, but would he describe her makeup? It felt weird.
Legend is not the most innovative novel--it is another story of two teens struggling against the secretive and oppressive government of a futuristic class-based society--and the writing is functional if not extraordinary. However, my interest in the characters and the mystery of the plot were enough to keep me reading late into the night, and I plan to start the sequel immediately.
genre: dystopia
rating: 5/8 tentacles
Legend is set in what appears to be the future America, divided and at war. When June, a wealthy orphan and child genius, loses her brother, she is hastily graduated from military school and put on the trail of his killer. Robin Hood type rebel Day, wanted by the Republic for a series of criminal offenses, struggles to procure expensive medication for his family when a never before seen strain of plague infects his brother. Through chapters alternating between these two characters' POVs, readers watch as Day's and June's lives become more and more entangled, drawing them closer to uncovering a horrible secret they never imagined their country was keeping.
June and Day are both authentic, likable characters. Day is a refreshing switch from the smoldering man-whore love interest. He is compassionate and vulnerable and comes across like a mostly regular person. His super powers are agility and cleverness. June's stubborn patriotism clashes nicely with Day's disillusioned deviance, although her child geniusness comes off a little false. She's cool, but she's no Ender.
The plot moves consistently forward and Lu provides us with enough details about the setting to craft a new and intriguing world identity without bogging down the story. However, there's a lot of telling where there could be showing, which--if remedied--would create much more complexity. Maybe I'll find you an example when I have the book in front of me. There are also several passages (and this is a pet peeve of mine) that describe June's outfits and makeup in detail. Nothing wrong with this except that these descriptions are--in general--inserted where tonally inappropriate, where they interrupt the pace, or where they cause inconsistencies with voice. Also I don't care. For example, this is not something that Day would pause to describe to us (he does). Maybe to notice June's dress or her fancy military uniform, but would he describe her makeup? It felt weird.
Legend is not the most innovative novel--it is another story of two teens struggling against the secretive and oppressive government of a futuristic class-based society--and the writing is functional if not extraordinary. However, my interest in the characters and the mystery of the plot were enough to keep me reading late into the night, and I plan to start the sequel immediately.
Review: Sever by Lauren DeStefano
age: YA
genre: post-apocalypse, kind of dystopia?
rating: 3/8 tentacles
Sever is better than Fever, but still doesn't fulfill the potential of the series premise. The pace remains much too slow. Characters spend a lot of time waiting for no real reason. Motivations get forgotten and left behind. The world is only partially described, and much too late.
Spoilers for Wither and Fever below.
When Sever begins, Rhine has recently evaded the clutches of Vaughn and tried to explain to Linden (finally!) the extent of his father's misdeeds. Linden doesn't believer her, perfectly natural--why shouldn't he trust his father, but agrees to help her avoid Vaughn and find her brother. Then, for most of the book, Rhine stays within Vaughn's reach and does very little to track down Rowan. The efforts she does make to find her brother lack urgency, which is strange considering that he's going around blowing up buildings and she thinks that she can stop him. But no worries, she just hangs around and eats nothing but apples.
A big deal is made out of how cars and cell phones are now a rarity, which doesn't make sense to me. If this world contains high tech labs and advanced medical technology, why don't cell phones work? There are still adults around unaffected by the "virus" who know how this stuff functions and could keep the world running. Yes, there could be an explanation for the collapse of the internet and cell phone service, and a half-hearted attempt is made at one just before the book ends, but this leaves me wondering for the entire series why characters don't just do things the easy way. And I can't become invested in their conflicts if the characters seem to be making things unnecessarily difficult for themselves. Forget cell phones, what about landlines? Why can't Rhine call the house where she left Gabriel to see how he's doing? Why doesn't she try to get in touch with Rowan instead of wasting time cleaning for Linden's uncle and then driving across half the country? I know they have phones because Vaughn calls people.
The characters don't come across as vividly as they did in Wither. Cecily is certainly the strongest and stands out in this last installment. Rhine becomes a vague, actionless shell. Linden fades into the background and becomes little more than a flimsy tie linking Rhine to the superficial luxury of her old prison. Her nostalgia for the place that she was so desperate to escape in Wither adds some welcome complexity. However, her conversations with Linden about their relationship disturbed me. He apologizes to her for expecting her affections, or something like that, and Rhine says it's okay, we were married.
What!?
Being kidnapped, imprisoned, and forced into a bond with a stranger is not a real marriage. He is not entitled to expect anything from the slave wives that he picked out of a truck-full of kidnapped girls. And Rhine is suddenly okay with all of this? Because Linden is actually kind of nice? This makes me angry. Rhine was angry too--what happened?
Sever loses sight of issues originally posed by the series. There's no more talk of the House Governor system, no more freedom and poverty vs. luxury and enslavement, no more determination to survive. I no longer understand Rhine, her relationships with any human beings, or her decision making processes. Rowan needs a slap in the face and a wakeup call. And I still don't understand how this virus/not virus works, how extensive it is, and what the deal is with the outside world. Ultimately, I am confused and dissatisfied.
genre: post-apocalypse, kind of dystopia?
rating: 3/8 tentacles
Sever is better than Fever, but still doesn't fulfill the potential of the series premise. The pace remains much too slow. Characters spend a lot of time waiting for no real reason. Motivations get forgotten and left behind. The world is only partially described, and much too late.
Spoilers for Wither and Fever below.
When Sever begins, Rhine has recently evaded the clutches of Vaughn and tried to explain to Linden (finally!) the extent of his father's misdeeds. Linden doesn't believer her, perfectly natural--why shouldn't he trust his father, but agrees to help her avoid Vaughn and find her brother. Then, for most of the book, Rhine stays within Vaughn's reach and does very little to track down Rowan. The efforts she does make to find her brother lack urgency, which is strange considering that he's going around blowing up buildings and she thinks that she can stop him. But no worries, she just hangs around and eats nothing but apples.
A big deal is made out of how cars and cell phones are now a rarity, which doesn't make sense to me. If this world contains high tech labs and advanced medical technology, why don't cell phones work? There are still adults around unaffected by the "virus" who know how this stuff functions and could keep the world running. Yes, there could be an explanation for the collapse of the internet and cell phone service, and a half-hearted attempt is made at one just before the book ends, but this leaves me wondering for the entire series why characters don't just do things the easy way. And I can't become invested in their conflicts if the characters seem to be making things unnecessarily difficult for themselves. Forget cell phones, what about landlines? Why can't Rhine call the house where she left Gabriel to see how he's doing? Why doesn't she try to get in touch with Rowan instead of wasting time cleaning for Linden's uncle and then driving across half the country? I know they have phones because Vaughn calls people.
The characters don't come across as vividly as they did in Wither. Cecily is certainly the strongest and stands out in this last installment. Rhine becomes a vague, actionless shell. Linden fades into the background and becomes little more than a flimsy tie linking Rhine to the superficial luxury of her old prison. Her nostalgia for the place that she was so desperate to escape in Wither adds some welcome complexity. However, her conversations with Linden about their relationship disturbed me. He apologizes to her for expecting her affections, or something like that, and Rhine says it's okay, we were married.
What!?
Being kidnapped, imprisoned, and forced into a bond with a stranger is not a real marriage. He is not entitled to expect anything from the slave wives that he picked out of a truck-full of kidnapped girls. And Rhine is suddenly okay with all of this? Because Linden is actually kind of nice? This makes me angry. Rhine was angry too--what happened?
Sever loses sight of issues originally posed by the series. There's no more talk of the House Governor system, no more freedom and poverty vs. luxury and enslavement, no more determination to survive. I no longer understand Rhine, her relationships with any human beings, or her decision making processes. Rowan needs a slap in the face and a wakeup call. And I still don't understand how this virus/not virus works, how extensive it is, and what the deal is with the outside world. Ultimately, I am confused and dissatisfied.
Review: Fearless by Cornelia Funke
age: YA
genre: fantasy, fairy tale
rating: 8/8 tentacles
Wonderful, dark, fun. Love the characters, love the plot, love the world. I was sad to reach the end of the book and hope the next in the series doesn't take another three years to come out. Because I want it right now. There's so much imagination in this series. And, FYI, this book is one example of a romance I can appreciate.
Spoilers for Reckless beyond this point. You have been warned.
Fearless picks up in the middle of Jacob's search to discover a cure for the fatal curse placed on him by the Red Fairy, the price he paid to save his brother. He has exhausted every magical item he can think of, except one: the Witch Slayer's Crossbow, which would bring its owner unlimited power. This item is Jacob's last hope, but his search is made more difficult by a competitor, a Goyl nicknamed "The Bastard." Jacob and Fox must race against time and surpass the efforts of the Goyl treasure hunter if they want to find the crossbow before the curse is fulfilled.
As in Reckless, the dark, fairy tale world creates a rich, endlessly intriguing backdrop. Jacob and Fox are fantastic, well-rounded, sympathetic characters and I'm rooting for them to end up together.
The reason I'm a fan of the romance in this book is because it's born out of genuine caring for the other person. It's not all about the burning gazes of sultry, golden eyes or swooning or rippling muscles. It's about trust and attachment and affection. And attraction too, but not ONLY attraction. Funke focuses on what I feel are the more important, more fulfilling parts of romance.
It's actually been a little while now since I've finished this book and thinking about it again is reminding me how excited I am about this series. Now I'm itching to read Reckless and Fearless again.
This book's got everything going for it: great, imaginative setting; authentic characters; and a plot that moves at a consistent pace, keeps readers guessing, and leads to an even more exciting mystery that opens into what I'm sure will be the plot of the next book. Oh and the writing is gorgeous. Cornelia Funke is the best.
genre: fantasy, fairy tale
rating: 8/8 tentacles
Wonderful, dark, fun. Love the characters, love the plot, love the world. I was sad to reach the end of the book and hope the next in the series doesn't take another three years to come out. Because I want it right now. There's so much imagination in this series. And, FYI, this book is one example of a romance I can appreciate.
Spoilers for Reckless beyond this point. You have been warned.
Fearless picks up in the middle of Jacob's search to discover a cure for the fatal curse placed on him by the Red Fairy, the price he paid to save his brother. He has exhausted every magical item he can think of, except one: the Witch Slayer's Crossbow, which would bring its owner unlimited power. This item is Jacob's last hope, but his search is made more difficult by a competitor, a Goyl nicknamed "The Bastard." Jacob and Fox must race against time and surpass the efforts of the Goyl treasure hunter if they want to find the crossbow before the curse is fulfilled.
As in Reckless, the dark, fairy tale world creates a rich, endlessly intriguing backdrop. Jacob and Fox are fantastic, well-rounded, sympathetic characters and I'm rooting for them to end up together.
The reason I'm a fan of the romance in this book is because it's born out of genuine caring for the other person. It's not all about the burning gazes of sultry, golden eyes or swooning or rippling muscles. It's about trust and attachment and affection. And attraction too, but not ONLY attraction. Funke focuses on what I feel are the more important, more fulfilling parts of romance.
It's actually been a little while now since I've finished this book and thinking about it again is reminding me how excited I am about this series. Now I'm itching to read Reckless and Fearless again.
This book's got everything going for it: great, imaginative setting; authentic characters; and a plot that moves at a consistent pace, keeps readers guessing, and leads to an even more exciting mystery that opens into what I'm sure will be the plot of the next book. Oh and the writing is gorgeous. Cornelia Funke is the best.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Review: Requiem by Lauren Oliver
age: YA
genre: futuristic, wannabe dystopia
rating: 2/8 tentacles
I really did not like this book. I thought the trilogy was on an upward trajectory, the second book being an improvement on the first, but this fell flat. Most of the characters fail to stand out. They're like ghosts. Cardboard cutouts of people. Nothing happens until about 120 pages into the story. There's a lot of unimpressive description of nature that seems to exist only as filler. There's no real resolution at the end, which sometimes isn't necessary, but there's nothing else to make up for the lack of resolution either--just a little preachy message.
Here is a problem I have with the trilogy as a whole: the premise is never explained. Again, the explanation of love as a disease--who decided this, what are the accepted symptoms, how does the cure actually work, what emotions does it actually block out, what emotions that stem from love are tangentially blocked out--all this doesn't need to be clarified in scientific terms, but I need to feel that the author knows all these things, that she knows where she's going with the story. I need to trust in her authority. And the way the author can gain my trust is by relaying this explanation through the characters, through the ways they think and feel and interact.
Did anyone else notice that there is absolutely no difference between the thoughts and behaviors of the cured and the invalids? Sure, the only cured whose POV we get is Hana's and she has doubts regarding the success of her cure. But if the difference between the cured and the invalids is the basis for the main conflict of the trilogy, shouldn't we be able to see the difference? Maybe it just went over my head. Hana tells us her thoughts are clearer now. That's it. That's all the distinction we get.
I'm not even sure what "love" means in the context of this trilogy. Does the word refer only to romantic love? Lust? If I recall correctly, the love between a mother and her children is also meant to be extinguished by the cure, according to Delirium. What about self-love? Wouldn't a lust for power come out of self-love? Unless the person had this robotic, Darwinian urge to be Numero Uno. And jealousy? And pride? Do those come out of a corrupted love? Or does the cure simply kill the ability to form bonds with other people, with little effect on emotions of passion? It's all so muddied. After three books, I'm still not sure.
genre: futuristic, wannabe dystopia
rating: 2/8 tentacles
This is a sequel, there will be Delirium & Pandemonium spoilers. Don't read the review if you haven't read the first two books.
I really did not like this book. I thought the trilogy was on an upward trajectory, the second book being an improvement on the first, but this fell flat. Most of the characters fail to stand out. They're like ghosts. Cardboard cutouts of people. Nothing happens until about 120 pages into the story. There's a lot of unimpressive description of nature that seems to exist only as filler. There's no real resolution at the end, which sometimes isn't necessary, but there's nothing else to make up for the lack of resolution either--just a little preachy message.
Here is a problem I have with the trilogy as a whole: the premise is never explained. Again, the explanation of love as a disease--who decided this, what are the accepted symptoms, how does the cure actually work, what emotions does it actually block out, what emotions that stem from love are tangentially blocked out--all this doesn't need to be clarified in scientific terms, but I need to feel that the author knows all these things, that she knows where she's going with the story. I need to trust in her authority. And the way the author can gain my trust is by relaying this explanation through the characters, through the ways they think and feel and interact.
Did anyone else notice that there is absolutely no difference between the thoughts and behaviors of the cured and the invalids? Sure, the only cured whose POV we get is Hana's and she has doubts regarding the success of her cure. But if the difference between the cured and the invalids is the basis for the main conflict of the trilogy, shouldn't we be able to see the difference? Maybe it just went over my head. Hana tells us her thoughts are clearer now. That's it. That's all the distinction we get.
I'm not even sure what "love" means in the context of this trilogy. Does the word refer only to romantic love? Lust? If I recall correctly, the love between a mother and her children is also meant to be extinguished by the cure, according to Delirium. What about self-love? Wouldn't a lust for power come out of self-love? Unless the person had this robotic, Darwinian urge to be Numero Uno. And jealousy? And pride? Do those come out of a corrupted love? Or does the cure simply kill the ability to form bonds with other people, with little effect on emotions of passion? It's all so muddied. After three books, I'm still not sure.
Review: Diary by Chuck Palahniuk
age: adult
genre: transgressive
rating: 8/8 tentacles
This is about art and ambition and immortality. It's about inspiration and irony. It's about the torment of geniuses.
There's this animal, amost-hysteria in Chuck Palahniuk's writing that appeals to me. His main characters (I've only ready two of his books so far) are falling apart, inside and out and then sometimes rebuilding themselves, as they strive for the extraordinary, or suppress their potential to achieve the extraordinary, like Misty Marie. The other book I've read is Fight Club.
Diary is honest and desperate and crazy and surreal and sad and tragic. I love the idea of the "lunatic's" ranting on the walls, the missing rooms. The conspiracy. I enjoy reading about the acoutrements of art--makes me want to go paint something
genre: transgressive
rating: 8/8 tentacles
This is about art and ambition and immortality. It's about inspiration and irony. It's about the torment of geniuses.
There's this animal, amost-hysteria in Chuck Palahniuk's writing that appeals to me. His main characters (I've only ready two of his books so far) are falling apart, inside and out and then sometimes rebuilding themselves, as they strive for the extraordinary, or suppress their potential to achieve the extraordinary, like Misty Marie. The other book I've read is Fight Club.
Diary is honest and desperate and crazy and surreal and sad and tragic. I love the idea of the "lunatic's" ranting on the walls, the missing rooms. The conspiracy. I enjoy reading about the acoutrements of art--makes me want to go paint something
Review: Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor
age: YA
genre: paranormal, fantasy
rating: 3/8 tentacles
Daughter of Smoke & Bone tells the story of Karou, a blue-haired art student living in Prague. Karou was raised by creatures called Chimaera in a wish shop that connects to portals all over the world. Her guardian, demon-like Brimstone, collector of teeth and purveyor of wishes, sends Karou on shadowy errands that prevent her from living a "normal" life. Karou resents these errands until the portals close, and she's left stranded from her Chimaera family. When Karou embarks on a quest to find them, her adventures dredge up the mystery of her past and she struggles to discover who she is and where she came from. Also she falls in love with a warrior Angel who gazes at her with burning eyes.
I heard a lot of hype about this book before I picked it up, which might explain away some of my disappointment. It has a cool title. It's main character is an art student with sketchbooks full of monsters. The wishes and teeth collecting create a dark fairy tale vibe. All of these elements drew me to the story, but they weren't enough to make me like it.
After reading the first couple of pages of any book, you can get a good idea of the mood and focus of the rest of the story. When DSB begins with Karou's annoyance at an arrogant ex-boyfriend and her vengeful pranks, I was already thinking oh boy, this book is not what I thought it was going to be. I like all the stuff with Brimstone, and the necklaces of teeth and the mystery of their purpose. I like the art school stuff, and the way Karou's friends think the portraits she does of her monster family are this really creative story she's invented. I like angels sweeping silently through cities all over the world, their wings visible only in their shadows. I like the black hand prints burned into the portal doors. I like Karou's hidden past and the war that's waging another world. I preferred the sections set in the other world. The flashback stories.
I don't like the cutesy joking dialogue, the rhetorical questions (thank you I understand what I'm supposed to be wondering about), the abandonment of the plot for the omg we just met and now I love you story. Although this last part can be explained, the explanation doesn't diminish my annoyance at having had to read those scenes in the first place. They feel contrived because they're so romanticized and bear so much resemblance to similar scenes in other YA novels. In these sections, the illusion of reality thins and I feel the author manipulating the characters.
I had repeated urges to cross out lines and paragraphs. For me, the book wasn't dark enough, wasn't suspenseful enough, wasn't real enough. I want to inject some Guillermo del Toro into this. As is, the story feels a little like a cartoon. Maybe you like that. In my opinion, it's not a good thing. I want my novels to feel alive.
genre: paranormal, fantasy
rating: 3/8 tentacles
Daughter of Smoke & Bone tells the story of Karou, a blue-haired art student living in Prague. Karou was raised by creatures called Chimaera in a wish shop that connects to portals all over the world. Her guardian, demon-like Brimstone, collector of teeth and purveyor of wishes, sends Karou on shadowy errands that prevent her from living a "normal" life. Karou resents these errands until the portals close, and she's left stranded from her Chimaera family. When Karou embarks on a quest to find them, her adventures dredge up the mystery of her past and she struggles to discover who she is and where she came from. Also she falls in love with a warrior Angel who gazes at her with burning eyes.
I heard a lot of hype about this book before I picked it up, which might explain away some of my disappointment. It has a cool title. It's main character is an art student with sketchbooks full of monsters. The wishes and teeth collecting create a dark fairy tale vibe. All of these elements drew me to the story, but they weren't enough to make me like it.
After reading the first couple of pages of any book, you can get a good idea of the mood and focus of the rest of the story. When DSB begins with Karou's annoyance at an arrogant ex-boyfriend and her vengeful pranks, I was already thinking oh boy, this book is not what I thought it was going to be. I like all the stuff with Brimstone, and the necklaces of teeth and the mystery of their purpose. I like the art school stuff, and the way Karou's friends think the portraits she does of her monster family are this really creative story she's invented. I like angels sweeping silently through cities all over the world, their wings visible only in their shadows. I like the black hand prints burned into the portal doors. I like Karou's hidden past and the war that's waging another world. I preferred the sections set in the other world. The flashback stories.
I don't like the cutesy joking dialogue, the rhetorical questions (thank you I understand what I'm supposed to be wondering about), the abandonment of the plot for the omg we just met and now I love you story. Although this last part can be explained, the explanation doesn't diminish my annoyance at having had to read those scenes in the first place. They feel contrived because they're so romanticized and bear so much resemblance to similar scenes in other YA novels. In these sections, the illusion of reality thins and I feel the author manipulating the characters.
I had repeated urges to cross out lines and paragraphs. For me, the book wasn't dark enough, wasn't suspenseful enough, wasn't real enough. I want to inject some Guillermo del Toro into this. As is, the story feels a little like a cartoon. Maybe you like that. In my opinion, it's not a good thing. I want my novels to feel alive.
Review: Mr. Fox by Helen Oyeyemi
age: adult
genre: fairy tale, dream
rating: 8/8 tentacles
Author St. John Fox--who always kills off his heroines--and his muse, Mary Foxe, circle each other in story after beautiful, beguiling story. This novel requires some suspension of disbelief, so just go with it. There are ghosts, and foxes who turn into men, and girls who appear out of thin air. It is a novel about loneliness and love, a playful modernization of Bluebeard's tale. The writing is gorgeous and human and honest. I enjoyed reading Mr. Fox in the same way I enjoy dreaming.
genre: fairy tale, dream
rating: 8/8 tentacles
Author St. John Fox--who always kills off his heroines--and his muse, Mary Foxe, circle each other in story after beautiful, beguiling story. This novel requires some suspension of disbelief, so just go with it. There are ghosts, and foxes who turn into men, and girls who appear out of thin air. It is a novel about loneliness and love, a playful modernization of Bluebeard's tale. The writing is gorgeous and human and honest. I enjoyed reading Mr. Fox in the same way I enjoy dreaming.
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