Review: Requiem by Lauren Oliver

age: YA
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

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.

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.

Review: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs

age: children's, YA
genre: paranormal
rating: 7/8 tentacles


Is this going to be series? I thought it was stand alone before I opened it, but now I could see there being a second book... I kind of hope there is a second book. I enjoyed spending time with these characters and I want to know more!

Jacob Portman, a lonely teenage boy, suffers a mental breakdown when his grandfather dies under what Jacob (and only Jacob) sees as mysterious circumstances. He convinces his father to travel with him to a tiny island off the coast of Wales, the setting of tales that Grandpa Portman shared with Jacob in his childhood. Jacob feels these tales were more than just stories, and is determined, unbeknownst to his parents, to discover the truth behind them and his grandfather's enigmatic past. He hopes this truth will make sense of his grandfather's death.

The premise of the story is weird and original. I mean, time loop? Ymbrynes? How did Riggs come up with this stuff? I love it. The vivid world of the novel lures the reader deeper and deeper into the story, as Jacob's thirst for answers lure him through forests and bogs and abandoned old houses. Jacob, as well as the characters he meets on his adventure, are human, idiosyncratic, and vulnerable. It is easy to become invested in their lives. The photographs included add a haunting, historical vibe, that contributes to the novel's mysterious. I enjoyed this book immensely and look forward to the sequel, which I've just researched and am now sure exists.

Review: The Diviners by Libba Bray

age: YA
genre: paranormal
rating: 4/8 tentacles

Evie "I want to see my name in lights" O'Neill gets shipped off to live with her uncle in Manhattan after her flapper antics cause trouble for her well-to-do parents. In New York, a ritualistic serial killer whose crimes smack with the supernatural is on the loose and the police ask Evie's Uncle Will, owner of a Museum of the Occult, to consult on the case. Unknown to her family, Evie posses a supernatural power of her own, the ability to get psychic readings from objects, and she is convinced that if she uses it, she could play an essential role in the capture of the murderer. But this murderer proves to be darker and more elusive than Evie, Will, & Co. expect.

This book shares some similarities with Libba Bray's previous supernatural trilogy. Both follow the exploits of a young girl in a supernatural version of history. Unlike Gemma's story, The Diviners is written in third person, and instead of focusing primarily on one character, skips between a multitude of them. The book improves when we've had time to get to know the characters a little more. The idea of the American Dream seems to pervade the novel. Most of the characters are motivated by a desire to make something of themselves, to be famous, glamorous, celebrated. To achieve an ideal.

While the book did entertain me, I still felt that something was missing. Instead of the distant, sweeping descriptions of the era, which are scattered throughout the novel (one follows wind, blowing through the city and observing its inhabitants), I would have preferred more time spent on individual characters and more specific, more sensory descriptions of the time period filtered through the points of view of the characters. There was a little too much name dropping to convince me of the setting's authenticity and a little too much stereotype to allow me to connect fully with the characters. The only one I really empathize with is Mabel--I would have like to see more of her. I hope she plays a bigger role in the rest of the trilogy.

The story itself is creepy and mysterious, a good fall read. The plot was resolved at the end (Hooray!), but I'm still left with questions about the characters and their lives. I look forward to the unfolding of these mysteries in the next installment of the trilogy. 

Review: Quiet by Susan Cain

age: adult
genre: nonfiction, psychology
rating: 7/8 tentacles

I think it's a pretty well-established idea that the U.S.A. is an extroverted country with extroverted ideals and extroverted societal expectations.  What role, then, do introverts have in this extroverted world?  Many guides exist that claim they can coach introverts to participate less stressfully in extroverted activities, like networking or extensive socializing.  A lot of these guides are nothing more than advice on how to act more extroverted.  How to fake it.  Susan Cain's Quiet is a refreshing and much needed account of how introverts can find their place in society while remaining true to themselves and without stretching their personality and comfort zone in order to feel normal or be accepted.

Quiet contains many stories of people struggling to fit together the knowledge of who they are and the knowledge of who they grew up believing they were supposed to be.  It also contains stories of people who live in places with introverted ideals (I'm thinking of moving) and how their way of life and self view differs from introverts trapped in extroverted societies.  In these stories, we can see how qualities often looked down on in this society (reservedness, preference for small social gatherings and more abstract conversations, caution) are valued and even sought after.  We might see pieces of ourselves that we've learned to hide celebrated as an ideal.

This book makes me think about how eager everybody is to force their own values and expectations on others, with little empathy or regard for alternate perceptions or ways of life. It's sad, really. Books like Quiet and people like Susan Cain are steps in the direction of understanding and compromise between the different personality types, so I salute her for that.  I recommend this book to introverts looking for some self reflection, self-validation, the strength to live on their terms and to extroverts looking to understand their introverted friends.

Review: The Absolutely True Diary of Part Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

age: children, YA
genre: realistic fiction
rating: 8/8 tentacles

This is the diary of a young boy searching for his place in the world as he grows up on a Spokane Indian Reservation.  Sherman Alexie tells Arnold "Junior" Spirit's story with poetry and wry honesty. We follow Junior as he struggles to preserve hope in the face of adversity and, at times, tragedy. His vulnerability and earnestness make it almost impossible not to root for him. It's a fast read and includes Junior's doodles and cartoons.  Definitely worth taking the time--I recommend it to everyone. I'm looking forward to reading more of Alexie's work

Review: Spyctacher by Peter Wright

age: adult
genre: nonfiction, autobiography
rating: 7/8 tentacles

Very interesting account of a life's work in MI5. Some of the technical details went over my head but Wright's descriptions of meetings with his co-workers, allies, and informants, were fascinating. He has a knack for dissecting a person on the page and his perceptiveness allows him to comment with intelligent hindsight on the accomplishments and failures of British Security during his career.  This includes the hunt for the alleged mole in MI5, whom Wright believed was eventual Director General Roger Hollis. The intrigue! They never got a confession or any indisputable proof, but I'm convinced.

I am now curious to read the other side of the story... maybe an autobiography of a KGB agent?

Review: Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose

age: adult
genre: nonfiction, craft
rating: 5/8 tentacles

Reading Like a Writer is a guide for close reading. Francine Prose dedicates each chapter to a different writing element: sentences, paragraphs, dialogue, character, detail, and more. She provides several excerpts per chapter to illustrate these aspects of writing and discusses the mechanics of each excerpt, noting what makes them work or fail to work. And ruins the end of Anna Karenina. Thanks.
 
The thing about writing, is that everybody disagrees about what makes it good--a point that Prose emphasizes as she presents example after example.  The excerpts alone (good and bad) got the wheels in my mind turning. If nothing else, Prose is an excellent curator. I liked seeing opposing writing styles smashed in side by side because they reminded me that there is no "right" way to do something. I have choices. I can learn the rules and then break them. My to-read list is longer now. Some of the excerpts made me want to read more, which made me wonder what it was about them that drew me in. Mostly conflict, I think. The promise of a good conflict. Or cleverly constructed prose. Or... something. Clarity.

Review: The Cult TV Book by Stacey Abbott

age: adult genre: nonfiction rating: 6/8 tentacles  The Cult TV Book is a compilation of essays written by people who have studied television and/or worked in the industry. Essays cover topics from what makes a show "cult" (audience investment and loyalty mostly) to fandom behaviors, levels of celebrity, and case studies on specific cult favorites like Buffy, The Prisoner, and Doctor Who. My most beloved shows have all generally been "cult" and I liked seeing old friends that no one seems to know (like Wonderfalls) name-dropped among these glorious televisory pages. A fun and informative read for anyone who has loved a television show

Review: Ghost Knight by Cornelia Funke

genre: fantasy
age: children's
rating: 4/8 tentacles

Ghost Knight is a fun story filled with murderous ghosts, medieval history, and school children sneaking around ancient cathedrals and dark crumbling cemeteries in the dead of night (no pun intended). After behaving badly towards his mother's new boyfriend, Jon Whitcroft is sent off to boarding school, where four ominous ghostly figures call him by his mother's maiden name and threaten his life. His endeavors to escape them lead to a friendship with beautiful Ella, daughter of a local ghost tour guide, and together they work to solve the mystery of the ghosts' determination to hunt Jon.

Some of Cornelia Funke's other works (the Inkheart series, The Thief Lord, and Reckless) have become favorites of mine, but Ghost Knight just didn't measure up. I'm not sure if Funke was targeting a younger age group, but it lacked the complexity of her other works and failed to conjure up a vivid illusion. The story seemed a little hazy, which made it difficult for me to feel as if I was experiencing its unfolding events along with the characters. For example, Jon attends an old cathedral boarding school, but we hardly see any of this part of his life. We watch him sneaking out of his bedroom window at night and we witness brief, ultimately meaningless conversations between Jon and his roommates, but get nothing of life at a boarding school. I think the story needed this scenic backdrop, this context, to anchor it.  I suppose there is much more telling than showing.

Funke seems to leap from event to ghostly event with little build up between. Many opportunities to create suspense weren't taken advantage of. We're just told, "Here's this guy and this is what happened to him." There's very little mystery, nothing to keep us wondering. No drama, no build-up, no suspense. We are simply pelted with ghosts.

That's the thing I didn't like about this book. It's a light and entertaining read, but it led me to believe I was getting a ghost story, and I didn't. Ghost Knight was rushed. It was shallow. I never felt like I got to know anyone besides Jon and Funke failed to cultivate that eerie mood where fear creeps around you like a mist and it always seems that someone (or something) is just out of sight, watching and waiting. My favorite thing about ghost stories is the mystery, and Ghost Knight provided very little of this.

Review: Higher Institute of Villainous Education by Mark Walden

genre: adventure, spy, sci-fi
age: children's
rating: 1/8 tentacles

I have read one hundred and ninety pages of H.I.V.E. by Mark Walden, and am now setting this book aside, forever.  The concept of H.I.V.E.--or, the Higher Institute of Villainous Education--promises a shift in common perspective and is what interested me in the novel. It's not often we get to see the story from the "villain's" point of view. I imagined a school full of Slytherins, where they weren't the grimly regarded slime of the student body, but the celebrated norm. I had hoped for a rollicking adventure with a silly, humorous twist.  I wanted a Percy Jackson experience, but instead found a poorly structured story populated by flat characters, whose plot dawdled and then wandered off to who knows where.

Even the class schedule at H.I.V.E. sounds fun: Villainy Studies, Tactical Education, Practical Technology, and Stealth and Evasion. I wanted to see a bunch of children learn to be hackers, spies, thieves, and strategists. I'm not sure about the class "Villainy Studies," which serves as an example of one of the reasons I didn't like the book. Walden doesn't effectively embody the mindset of a "villain," who is only dubbed as such by the "good guys." I'm sure the best "villains" don't see themselves as evil. They think they're right, that they're superior, that those people trying to thwart their plans are like little buzzing mosquitoes getting in the way. They don't think "I am a villain and that guy over there is a hero." Walden's representation of "villains" is a caricature someone on the outside of this world might conjure up. I wanted to be inside the world, looking at it from an insider's perspective.

The evil genius of our young protagonist, Otto Malpense, is witnessed by H.I.V.E., resulting in his abduction and transportation to the school. Upon his arrival, we are immediately informed of Otto's superiority to all of the other students. While they gawp stupidly at the strange new sites the institution has to offer, Otto remains unimpressed, blankly memorizing his surroundings for no apparent reason. Dr. Nero, head of the institution, notices this and marks Otto as a student to watch. Otto goes on, along with his new friend Fanchu Wing, to continuously demonstrate his perfection. I find it difficult to relate to a character who has so little vulnerability. Otto is so implausibly capable that I don't even care what happens to him because there's no risk, nothing at stake. He always comes out on top. Boooring.

Otto very quickly decides that he must escape H.I.V.E. From the moment he arrives, he observes and calculates, saving up all of the information he gathers in case it will be useful in plotting his getaway. There is a lot of obvious noticing, like the author is trying to shine a spotlight on Otto's superior intelligence. Why Otto feels he must escape H.I.V.E. is a mystery to me. The school's existence and location are highly secret and so students are allowed no contact with the outer world during their studies. Perhaps the principle of being "imprisoned" is enough to make someone want to leave, but Otto is given a room, he quickly makes friends, his laundry is done for him, he is fed, and he is going to be taught a number of skills that no doubt he will quickly master but that will likely be useful to him. Why he feels a pressing need to get out immediately is beyond me, and why a number of students quickly express the same desire is even more perplexing.

Much of the novel seems derivative. Otto is a pale, cartoonish, emotionless copy of Ender Wiggin. Franz--the fat German boy who thinks only of food isn't a copy. He IS Augustus Gloop. His father even owns a chocolate factory.

In one scene, students file into a classroom and wait for their teacher. They notice a cat seated on the teachers desk, and vaguely question its presence. Then a teacher's voice comes from the front of the room, addressing the class, and they look around bemusedly for its owner. With some incredulity, they find the voice belongs to the cat on the desk. Hmm, why does this seem so familiar?

Two hundred pages into the story, nothing has happened. Otto arrived at the school, went on a tour, got a roommate, and we saw a flashback of his life before H.I.V.E. and how he came to be at the school. I assume the plot will detail Otto & Co.'s unnecessary escape effort but because I don't understand why they're bothering to break out (they're in no danger at the school and won't suffer by staying) I don't care if their plan is successful and even sort of hope that they fail. I'm not interested in the answer to the question the plot poses and so it is time to take my leave of this story. Goodbye little book. I had hoped we might be friends but it is not to be--back to the library you go.

Review: Beauty by Robin McKinley

genre: fantasy, fairy tale
age: YA
rating: 6/8 tentacles

Robin McKinley writes refreshingly elegant prose. I was especially taken with the descriptions of the enchanted castle; its somber, grandiose decor; and all of the opulent little details of the wardrobe magically procured for Beauty. I like the idea of the blue dress with silver embroidered birds, the hall of portraits, and the haunting carved arch over the castle's entrance.

The existence of magic in Beauty's world is casually introduced, long before we see any evidence of it, in a way that suggests it might only be the stuff of stories. Beauty's family, who were born and bred in the city, view the countryside and the forests as the dark homes of goblins, fairies, and dragons. The curiosity and uncertainty in Beauty's delivery of this information smacks of superstition and I could imagine the stories as follies of the ignorant, people's beliefs about the Unknown they fear. Like those mapmakers who wrote "Here Be Dragons" across uncharted territories spotted with snakey coils stitched across painted seas. This representation of magic gave the world an anchor in reality. The novel begins in a world like our own, or like ours once might have been, and we discover magic along with Beauty. McKinley's is a whimsical, enchanting magic. Two whirling breezes try to dress Beauty in clothes she feels are too extravagant for her and the tea things and dinner plates move on their own, constantly shoving each other out of the way in an effort to present their dish to the visiting lady.

The character of Beauty didn't make much of an impression on me. Her love of books lacked wonder and curiosity. Her sacrifice wasn't much of one--she didn't seem to mind giving up her life or her family although she did miss them once she was gone. She waxed on about the Greeks and learning languages and struck me as a generally stuffy and uninteresting person. My favorite characters were her father, who had such kind intentions, and the poor Beast. Oh and Greatheart, who became a capital "C" Character in my mind even though he was Beauty's horse.

McKinley's writing style and descriptions posses a lovely, sophisticated maturity. I called her prose refreshing earlier because I'm always glad to find writing without that overly sensationalized hyper-introspection that you may have seen me complaining about recently. That type of writing toes the edge of a cliff, over which is a steep descent into self-indulgent blather. But there is none of that here! I find more and more that I generally prefer YA and children's lit published between the sixties and the early nineties. (This one's pub. date is 1978.)

There is a bit more summary here than I would like. A balance between summary and action scenes (scenes that relay info vs. scenes during which action unfolds before us) allows the reader to experience the story with the characters at a steady pace. Too much summary creates too much distance between reader and character and too much action might overstimulate or deaden the pace. It depends. I think Beauty could have done with a few more action scenes.

This particular retelling was more similar to the french film released in the forties than to the probably better known Disney film (which I began re-watching after I finished this book). I don't think I've ever actually read any version of Beauty and the Beast before so I can't compare it to the original fairy tale (although I can say that the characters and background were supplied with a depth absent from fairy tales), but I enjoyed this book very much. I read it all in one day.

Review: Pandemonium by Lauren Oliver

genre: dystopia
age: YA
rating: 7/8 tentacles

This is a sequel, there will be Delirium spoilers.  Don't read the review if you haven't read the first book.

Now that Lena has successfully fled her oppressive society, she must come to terms with losing Alex and face the new hardships that accompany life in the small, self-sustained community of runaways located in the middle of a forest.   

Pandemonium's narrative splits into segments titled "Then" and "Now" that flip-flop between this period, set immediately after Lena's escape, and the present, during which Lena seems to have adapted and thrived, joining fellow runaways Raven and Tack in their rebellion against an organization called the DFA (Deliria Free America).

I found myself looking forward to the "Now" segments.  I enjoyed watching the clockwork of Raven and Tack's plan tick out, observing the smooth efficiency of the DFA meetings that Lena attended, and was intrigued by the character of Julian.  His wounded air and sense of entitlement reminded me a little of Colin Craven, who I like.  Lena watches Julian struggle with his inherited beliefs, delusions from which her own experiences had only recently distanced her--making for an interesting relationship.  In Delirium, Alex drops into Lena's world out of the blue and radically changes everything for her, teaches her to expand her perceptions, to live.  Now it's Lena's turn to do the same for some one else.

I did enjoy the survival segments as well, but because I preferred the other chapters, I found myself disappointed whenever I saw the word "Then" heading a chapter.   The two threads of time are two separate stories, one informing the other, but I wish they had been presented chronologically.  I saw no reason to alternate sections like Oliver did--I don't think this decision increases the drama of the plot, and I wouldn't have kept getting jerked out of the story I wanted to be reading.

Delirium didn't resonate with me and I picked up the sequel mainly out of curiosity.  I approached Pandemonium with a kind of oh-all-right-I-read-the-first-one-so-why-not mentality, without expecting to be impressed, but Pandemonium surprised me.  The plot was much more interesting than its predecessor's, I liked more of the characters (didn't like Hana or Alex, do like Raven and Julian), and Oliver's descriptions were just as beautiful as her writing in Delirium.