The Gracekeepers, by Kirsty Logan, crosses what I like about young adult fiction (story and setting) with the prose and themes of adult fiction, which it is. As my readers know, the adult section of my shelf is very short, but occasionally, I do pick one up. What attracted me to this one was its setting, a world covered by water, almost like in the movie Waterworld, and a circus boat traveling from island to island. Books about circuses are always a bit odd and intriguing, especially if the setting has other large quirks, as well. (For instance, my husband and I thought of writing a book about a circus performing in a post-apocalyptic world before we ever heard of the concept elsewhere. The idea intrigued us: the pursuit of happiness amidst despair. Well, we never wrote more than a couple short stories about it, and now, I've seen at least this book and one other like our idea on the market.) Cross Waterworld with the book The Night Circus, add a bit of mythology and a large dose of melancholy, and you have The Gracekeepers.
North is the bear trainer in the circus. She ignores the past as she dances with her bear for her act and sleeps by his side at night, all the while balancing life and death, and not just her own but that of her secret unborn baby. Callanish is a gracekeeper. She has webbed hands and feet. She has run from her own past and lives by herself on an island, where she helps damplings (those who live at sea) bury and mourn their dead, the period of mourning marked by the days it takes for a bird (called a grace) to die in a cage. Two lonely women from opposing backgrounds, one a dampling and one a landlocker (those who live on the small amount of land there is), cross lives in this tale of tragedy and hope.
I think the title of this book was not well-chosen. Only half the book is about any sort of gracekeeper, and there's only one of any importance to the story until the end. I suppose it fits the emotional resolution of the story, but it seems to also spoil the ending or, at the very least, hint at it.
As for the end of the story, it reminds me of why I veer more toward young adult fiction. Our world is gritty and real and sad enough without novels that are likewise. Granted, some of the young adult fiction I read is more violent and certainly has gritty elements to it (The Hunger Games, Divergent, The Maze Runner), but somehow, those stories, despite a degree of realism, portray the idealism and hopefulness of youth. The Gracekeepers is a little more about how life really goes, if you believe you have to make your own way and God doesn't factor in. It portrays a rather sad and pointless existence. And I suppose, in this existence, the female protagonists actually have a pretty decent ending. Their pasts are finally put behind them, and they find a satisfactory end, all things considered. It's actually almost happy, though I had a hard time seeing it that way at first. I guess I wanted more. More justice. More redemption. More hope. More happiness. I'm used to reading books that don't really end, the beginnings of series. But for a standalone book, I wanted a bigger bow on the end, the strings all tied up neater. Instead, I got somber realism...well, at least as much realism as you can get in a bizarre world such as this one.
There's one more thing about the story that is important to me, as a Christian, to mention. The world of The Gracekeepers has its own versions of religion, one of which has to do with hoarding wealth, leaving pollution in its wake, working hard toward salvation and forgiveness (No grace here! And maybe that's the point.), and condemning all those who don't get in line. It's very cultish. Another form of religion worships the land and the trees for their rarity. None of that is even close to what real faith is, sadly, and if that's what people imagine religion to be, no wonder they don't want it.
All that said, the story is beautifully written. Not too much detail is given, and a lot is understated. But the detail that's there is enough to create strong visuals and lingering impressions. It's a world painstakingly created and not easily forgotten. I think it will impact people differently than it did me, so if you're intrigued, give it a chance. My own rating is three out of five stars. This book is available mid-May.
Showing posts with label adult fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adult fiction. Show all posts
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
The Queen of the Tearling
I was not the first to get my hands on The Queen of the Tearling, a fantasy novel by Erika Johansen. My sister-in-law beat me to it, but both of us were pretty excited to read this advanced reader's copy. And now that we have, both of us love it. It's adult fiction, but this is the kind of story that attracted me to young adult fiction in the first place: a young, gutsy heroine (she's 19) and high-stakes danger. There are obviously elements that separate this story from young adult fiction. It's more detailed and longer than typical YA fare, and there are swear words (though sparse) and a few gruesome scenes (one character's vivid recounting of debauchery and rape, for instance) most YA fiction generally avoids. I hope that those adult elements, however, do not scare you off. They are very tactfully handled and not overused.
Kelsea is supposed to be the next queen of the Tearling when she reaches her nineteenth birthday. That day has come, and she must leave the little cottage that has been her entire world. But in the world she is to rule, there are many who would rather things remain as they are and are willing to pay big money for her head. There's the regent, her uncle, a despicable man with many vices. There's the evil Red Queen, who has the power to destroy the Tearling. And there are others hiding in the dark, waiting for an opportunity to profit in whatever way they may. Kelsea has a big job ahead of her, and it could kill her, if she doesn't die before she gets there. All alone, accompanied by a handful of old guards who are sworn to secrecy but know nothing about her, Kelsea must earn her place every step of the way.
I assumed this story would have more romance (it was advertised on the back cover), but it really doesn't, at least not in this first installment of the series, and the main character is described as plain and mannish. The point is that this girl is different than her mother, the beautiful and shallow queen before her. Kelsea is a girl who's studied her entire life to be a good judge and moral ruler, and when faced with the chaos of her country, she tackles it head-on, despite feeling nothing like a queen. I liked that there wasn't the distraction of romance (though there are very tiny hints of what might come), and actually, Kelsea's plainness lends a certain gravity and strength to the story. We see right off the bat that she's a woman of depth, something the country desperately needs. We know she is the right person for the job, if she can manage to get it. Sometimes romance is all the entertainment value of the story, but this one doesn't need it to be interesting and keep things moving along. The mystery of Kelsea's ancestry and the secrets hidden from her, even though she's supposed to be queen, pull the reader into the story, and throughout, Kelsea and the reader must piece together the larger picture of what happened to this country's people and what she must do about it.
Now, I must talk a bit about the setting. It's highly unusual. At first glance, it appears somewhat medieval, like most fantasy worlds. Horses, no modern conveniences, castles, peasants, and magic--pretty straightforward fantasy, nothing unusual there. But actually, there are hints throughout the story about a world that existed before, a world that sounds a lot like our modern world. America is mentioned. Books exist from our time, like The Hobbit and The Bible. The details are extremely murky and pieced together, but from what I can tell, people left our world in an event called The Crossing. Whatever they brought with them was all they had to start over, completely new. There were some doctors, so some medical knowledge was saved. A few books came over, but not a way to print more. What I can't figure out is where this new world is. Is it a new part of Earth, or is it a parallel dimension? Did they cross the stars (though it seems they speak of crossing an ocean)? And what happened to the rest of Earth? And how did magic enter the equation? These questions don't need answered for the story to work, but they were always part of the backstory, just enough information given to make me curious about the rest. Essentially, the setting is medieval fantasy, taking place in a world that comes after our modern one.
One more thing bears remarking on. I'm not sure how I feel about how the book presents religion. Kelsea studies The Bible as part of her training to rule, just as one might study one book of many but also because the Arvath (a religious group with roots in Catholicism) is a corrupt power to be reckoned with. It's not presented as a true book, and though Kelsea reads it cover to cover, she doesn't believe in it. So, I thought the author had a negative inclination toward religion, but then she has a character who's devout, a priest who's not corrupt but truly believes in his faith. He's a sympathetic character, despite his beliefs. Granted, he's a great lover of books, like Kelsea is, so I think the emphasis is on the value of knowledge rather than faith. But I was pleased to see that religion wasn't thrown out as entirely evil. I don't have any hopes that it will progress beyond what it is, though.
Overall, I just loved this book for being a story about a girl going up against high odds with nothing in her favor but her strong mind and kind heart. I loved the mystery, and I grew to love numerous other multi-faceted characters along the way. That the main character is a queen and the setting is medieval doesn't hurt one bit either.
The Queen of the Tearling will be released in July of this year. Four stars.
Kelsea is supposed to be the next queen of the Tearling when she reaches her nineteenth birthday. That day has come, and she must leave the little cottage that has been her entire world. But in the world she is to rule, there are many who would rather things remain as they are and are willing to pay big money for her head. There's the regent, her uncle, a despicable man with many vices. There's the evil Red Queen, who has the power to destroy the Tearling. And there are others hiding in the dark, waiting for an opportunity to profit in whatever way they may. Kelsea has a big job ahead of her, and it could kill her, if she doesn't die before she gets there. All alone, accompanied by a handful of old guards who are sworn to secrecy but know nothing about her, Kelsea must earn her place every step of the way.
I assumed this story would have more romance (it was advertised on the back cover), but it really doesn't, at least not in this first installment of the series, and the main character is described as plain and mannish. The point is that this girl is different than her mother, the beautiful and shallow queen before her. Kelsea is a girl who's studied her entire life to be a good judge and moral ruler, and when faced with the chaos of her country, she tackles it head-on, despite feeling nothing like a queen. I liked that there wasn't the distraction of romance (though there are very tiny hints of what might come), and actually, Kelsea's plainness lends a certain gravity and strength to the story. We see right off the bat that she's a woman of depth, something the country desperately needs. We know she is the right person for the job, if she can manage to get it. Sometimes romance is all the entertainment value of the story, but this one doesn't need it to be interesting and keep things moving along. The mystery of Kelsea's ancestry and the secrets hidden from her, even though she's supposed to be queen, pull the reader into the story, and throughout, Kelsea and the reader must piece together the larger picture of what happened to this country's people and what she must do about it.
Now, I must talk a bit about the setting. It's highly unusual. At first glance, it appears somewhat medieval, like most fantasy worlds. Horses, no modern conveniences, castles, peasants, and magic--pretty straightforward fantasy, nothing unusual there. But actually, there are hints throughout the story about a world that existed before, a world that sounds a lot like our modern world. America is mentioned. Books exist from our time, like The Hobbit and The Bible. The details are extremely murky and pieced together, but from what I can tell, people left our world in an event called The Crossing. Whatever they brought with them was all they had to start over, completely new. There were some doctors, so some medical knowledge was saved. A few books came over, but not a way to print more. What I can't figure out is where this new world is. Is it a new part of Earth, or is it a parallel dimension? Did they cross the stars (though it seems they speak of crossing an ocean)? And what happened to the rest of Earth? And how did magic enter the equation? These questions don't need answered for the story to work, but they were always part of the backstory, just enough information given to make me curious about the rest. Essentially, the setting is medieval fantasy, taking place in a world that comes after our modern one.
One more thing bears remarking on. I'm not sure how I feel about how the book presents religion. Kelsea studies The Bible as part of her training to rule, just as one might study one book of many but also because the Arvath (a religious group with roots in Catholicism) is a corrupt power to be reckoned with. It's not presented as a true book, and though Kelsea reads it cover to cover, she doesn't believe in it. So, I thought the author had a negative inclination toward religion, but then she has a character who's devout, a priest who's not corrupt but truly believes in his faith. He's a sympathetic character, despite his beliefs. Granted, he's a great lover of books, like Kelsea is, so I think the emphasis is on the value of knowledge rather than faith. But I was pleased to see that religion wasn't thrown out as entirely evil. I don't have any hopes that it will progress beyond what it is, though.
Overall, I just loved this book for being a story about a girl going up against high odds with nothing in her favor but her strong mind and kind heart. I loved the mystery, and I grew to love numerous other multi-faceted characters along the way. That the main character is a queen and the setting is medieval doesn't hurt one bit either.
The Queen of the Tearling will be released in July of this year. Four stars.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
The Forgotten Garden
It's rare that I step away from my fast-paced, short-but-sweet young adult novels to read a lengthy piece of regular fiction, particularly one that spans several generations and jumps between character stories. But occasionally, I find myself wanting a delightfully long read that's not over in two days, and since my sister-in-law had recommended The Forgotten Garden to me several times (shocked each time she asked me if I'd read it that I had not), I picked this one, knowing absolutely nothing about it.
But the young woman who discovers on her 21st birthday that she is not the person she always thought she was, whose life is turned upside down in an instant, and whose granddaughter inherits her unsolved mystery captured my full attention. The story spans a century, from the early 1900s to 2005, and two continents, taking place in Australia and England. The characters include Nell, the woman left on a ship by herself when she was only three or four years old; Cassandra, Nell's granddaughter with her own life trauma and baggage; Eliza, the mysterious and captivating Authoress; and a wealthy, selfish, merciless English family.
Normally, descriptive passages slow me down, but author Kate Morton knows just how to hook her readers along, leaving bread crumbs here and there, enticing them to read just a little further to solve just a little more of the mystery. There's a bit of a haunting, magical feel to the story, heightened no doubt by Eliza's fairytales, a few of which are included in their entirety. If anything slowed my reading of this book more than normal, it was probably the character jumping. One chapter might be about Cassandra in 2005. Then we're back to Eliza in 2000. Then we're with Nell in 1975. Some of those points provided too easy of a break at which to put the book down for awhile. However, I was never tempted to leave the story too long. Quite the opposite. I found myself stealing moments during the day to open those 500-plus pages, even when my son was competing for my attention! The last 200, or so, pages were especially difficult to put down. By then, I was starting to piece things together and making guesses about the ending (some of which were right and some of which weren't quite). I put a key piece of the puzzle together approximately 150 pages before the end, but even then, there were discoveries to make and moments to question what I thought I knew.
The Forgotten Garden is a book to delve into at the expense of all else. Kate Morton is a storyteller with a spellbinding gift. This is certainly some of the best adult fiction out there. Five stars.
But the young woman who discovers on her 21st birthday that she is not the person she always thought she was, whose life is turned upside down in an instant, and whose granddaughter inherits her unsolved mystery captured my full attention. The story spans a century, from the early 1900s to 2005, and two continents, taking place in Australia and England. The characters include Nell, the woman left on a ship by herself when she was only three or four years old; Cassandra, Nell's granddaughter with her own life trauma and baggage; Eliza, the mysterious and captivating Authoress; and a wealthy, selfish, merciless English family.
Normally, descriptive passages slow me down, but author Kate Morton knows just how to hook her readers along, leaving bread crumbs here and there, enticing them to read just a little further to solve just a little more of the mystery. There's a bit of a haunting, magical feel to the story, heightened no doubt by Eliza's fairytales, a few of which are included in their entirety. If anything slowed my reading of this book more than normal, it was probably the character jumping. One chapter might be about Cassandra in 2005. Then we're back to Eliza in 2000. Then we're with Nell in 1975. Some of those points provided too easy of a break at which to put the book down for awhile. However, I was never tempted to leave the story too long. Quite the opposite. I found myself stealing moments during the day to open those 500-plus pages, even when my son was competing for my attention! The last 200, or so, pages were especially difficult to put down. By then, I was starting to piece things together and making guesses about the ending (some of which were right and some of which weren't quite). I put a key piece of the puzzle together approximately 150 pages before the end, but even then, there were discoveries to make and moments to question what I thought I knew.
The Forgotten Garden is a book to delve into at the expense of all else. Kate Morton is a storyteller with a spellbinding gift. This is certainly some of the best adult fiction out there. Five stars.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Eventide (Tales of the Dragon's Bard, Book 1)
Eventide (Tales of the Dragon's Bard, Book 1), by renowned fantasy writer Tracy Hickman and his wife Laura, is one of those rare books I read that are not young adult fiction, books that appeal to me because they contain well-told stories about subjects more fascinating than everyday life. Ironically, Eventide is about a ho-hum cast of characters from a little fantasy village. Nothing much more exciting than winning pie contests happens to them. Yet, there's more to the village than meets the eye. And the one who will bring out those stories is none other than the ridiculous, ostentatious Dragon's Bard.
When Edvard, the Dragon's Bard, arrives with his scribe Abel at the village of Eventide, he is on a quest to collect stories to entertain the dragon who let him go. He meets Jarod, a shy accountant who secretly loves one of the wish-women of the town's broken wishing well, an old centaur farmer, a talented but underestimated dwarf blacksmith, a leather tanner who can't smell his own stinky work, and a gossiping river fairy, just to name a few. When Edvard tries to liven up their lives for his tales, the sleepy little town is in for not a few misunderstandings and a bit of troublesome adventure!
Read my review of my husband's soon-to-be-published novel The Unremarkable Squire because it's a very similar piece of fiction. My husband loves to use misfit characters and has enjoyed Hickman's books in the past because of theirs. Tracy and Laura Hickman's Eventide is all about misfits, though perhaps they are not as misfit as they at first seem. Many of the characters have quite a bit of depth once the story delves into their lives a bit, and maybe that's the point. Tales can be found anywhere. Romance can be epic, even in a tiny village. Everyone has a secret at one point or another.
This novel is relatively short for fantasy. It's clean and funny and doesn't bog you down too much in fantasy detail (but is slower-paced than young adult, still). I think I'll keep this one on my shelf at home. Three stars all around.
When Edvard, the Dragon's Bard, arrives with his scribe Abel at the village of Eventide, he is on a quest to collect stories to entertain the dragon who let him go. He meets Jarod, a shy accountant who secretly loves one of the wish-women of the town's broken wishing well, an old centaur farmer, a talented but underestimated dwarf blacksmith, a leather tanner who can't smell his own stinky work, and a gossiping river fairy, just to name a few. When Edvard tries to liven up their lives for his tales, the sleepy little town is in for not a few misunderstandings and a bit of troublesome adventure!
Eventide is fantasy, but it's not about the princess or the knight or even the dragon. It's about people like you and me, but it's interesting because it takes place in a world where all the above exists, too.
The main character is actually not the Dragon's Bard but the accountant Jarod, though other characters get bits of their stories told as well. It might be hard to enjoy a novel about only silly people, so it's nice that Jarod and his father are among the more polished and intelligent occupants of the town, thus allowing the reader to identify with and root for Jarod.
Read my review of my husband's soon-to-be-published novel The Unremarkable Squire because it's a very similar piece of fiction. My husband loves to use misfit characters and has enjoyed Hickman's books in the past because of theirs. Tracy and Laura Hickman's Eventide is all about misfits, though perhaps they are not as misfit as they at first seem. Many of the characters have quite a bit of depth once the story delves into their lives a bit, and maybe that's the point. Tales can be found anywhere. Romance can be epic, even in a tiny village. Everyone has a secret at one point or another.
This novel is relatively short for fantasy. It's clean and funny and doesn't bog you down too much in fantasy detail (but is slower-paced than young adult, still). I think I'll keep this one on my shelf at home. Three stars all around.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Before I Go To Sleep
This book has been out for a little while already. It's regular fiction, not a young adult novel, but the premise intrigued me as usually only young adult fiction does. In Before I Go To Sleep, by S. J. Watson, Christine forgets the last 20 years or more of her life every time she falls asleep. She remembers being young and wakes up to find herself in a differently proportioned body lying next to a stranger. As her day progresses, she discovers pieces of her world: the husband she married, the doctor she's seeing secretly (who has to call her and convince her he's who he says he is), the accident that caused her amnesia.
Her husband, Ben, says he loves her, but Christine doesn't know how to love him in return. She has no memories of him. When Dr. Nash asks her to keep a journal (and calls her daily to tell her of its existence and where to find it), she slowly begins to rebuild her world. And as she writes more and more, she begins to remember a little here and there. But details are off. Informed that she used to be paranoid in the early stages of her condition, she isn't sure what's real and what's fabricated. When her memories don't match up with what she's being told, she discovers that, indeed, her husband has been keeping the whole truth from her. It makes sense that he wouldn't daily reveal details that are greatly upsetting, but Christine wishes he would just be honest with her. As she grows to understand and love her husband more through her own written words, Christine knows that she will eventually have to trust him with her journal. But sometimes things don't feel right, and Christine can't figure out how much of that is cause for concern and how much is just the imaginings of a damaged mind. Everyone seems to be lying to her. And can she trust her own journal?
One day, she wakes up in bed with a stranger as always, gets a call from a Dr. Nash she's supposed to know but doesn't, and receives a journal already full of her words, including an addition at the front, which says, "Don't trust Ben." And she begins to read about the person she's become.
For the reader (and for Christine, really), the story starts there. As you can imagine, it gets a little repetitive. Every morning, Christine discovers that she's married, that she sees a doctor secretly, and that she has a secret journal. But considering the difficulty of presenting her story realistically without boring the reader, I think the author does a pretty decent job. The idea reminded me of the movie 50 First Dates, except that this story is not comedy or romance. It's more of a psychological thriller. As we read Christine's journal and crawl into her mind, we find ourselves at as much of a loss as she is. We wonder, along with her, if she's crazy. We wonder why things don't feel right but have no proof that anything's wrong. As more details come together, things start to make sense from a certain point of view. You want her to tell Ben about the journal. And when she doesn't, you wonder if Christine will sabotage herself with her doubts or if there is real reason for her to be careful. You'll be guessing until the end.
Because this is adult fiction, there is adult content, nothing terribly graphic, more factual than anything. The author could have left it more to the imagination, but I can see why she wanted to explore it. It is an interesting moral dilemma: if you're married, sex is totally okay, more than okay, but what if only one of two partners remembers the past 20 years? What if the other knows only today? For one, sex is almost mundane, part of being married to a person so long. For the other, sex is the furthest thing from the mind, coming right after catching up on 20 years of life. The idea wasn't a bad one to address, I suppose, and it makes sense in the context of the story. But it's a little crude at times. Just a warning. Enough said.
I don't want to influence what you think happens in this book in case you want to read it yourself, but I think I was influenced just by reading the book cover. It influences you even just to hear that it's a thriller. Honestly, most of the book doesn't feel like a thriller. There's some mystery, but just that of a woman trying to piece together her life, nothing remarkable: does she have kids, friends, accomplishments? The fact that it was said to be a thriller clued me in that there was more beneath the surface of this story. But whether it's paranoia or something else, I'll leave for you to discover.
I was mostly satisfied but not as surprised as I wanted to be by the end. I think the book was too built up by its own cover. It spoiled itself. Weird to say, but true, for me.
Three stars. Hard to put down sometimes, but might leave you asking, "Was it worth the time?"
Her husband, Ben, says he loves her, but Christine doesn't know how to love him in return. She has no memories of him. When Dr. Nash asks her to keep a journal (and calls her daily to tell her of its existence and where to find it), she slowly begins to rebuild her world. And as she writes more and more, she begins to remember a little here and there. But details are off. Informed that she used to be paranoid in the early stages of her condition, she isn't sure what's real and what's fabricated. When her memories don't match up with what she's being told, she discovers that, indeed, her husband has been keeping the whole truth from her. It makes sense that he wouldn't daily reveal details that are greatly upsetting, but Christine wishes he would just be honest with her. As she grows to understand and love her husband more through her own written words, Christine knows that she will eventually have to trust him with her journal. But sometimes things don't feel right, and Christine can't figure out how much of that is cause for concern and how much is just the imaginings of a damaged mind. Everyone seems to be lying to her. And can she trust her own journal?
One day, she wakes up in bed with a stranger as always, gets a call from a Dr. Nash she's supposed to know but doesn't, and receives a journal already full of her words, including an addition at the front, which says, "Don't trust Ben." And she begins to read about the person she's become.
For the reader (and for Christine, really), the story starts there. As you can imagine, it gets a little repetitive. Every morning, Christine discovers that she's married, that she sees a doctor secretly, and that she has a secret journal. But considering the difficulty of presenting her story realistically without boring the reader, I think the author does a pretty decent job. The idea reminded me of the movie 50 First Dates, except that this story is not comedy or romance. It's more of a psychological thriller. As we read Christine's journal and crawl into her mind, we find ourselves at as much of a loss as she is. We wonder, along with her, if she's crazy. We wonder why things don't feel right but have no proof that anything's wrong. As more details come together, things start to make sense from a certain point of view. You want her to tell Ben about the journal. And when she doesn't, you wonder if Christine will sabotage herself with her doubts or if there is real reason for her to be careful. You'll be guessing until the end.
Because this is adult fiction, there is adult content, nothing terribly graphic, more factual than anything. The author could have left it more to the imagination, but I can see why she wanted to explore it. It is an interesting moral dilemma: if you're married, sex is totally okay, more than okay, but what if only one of two partners remembers the past 20 years? What if the other knows only today? For one, sex is almost mundane, part of being married to a person so long. For the other, sex is the furthest thing from the mind, coming right after catching up on 20 years of life. The idea wasn't a bad one to address, I suppose, and it makes sense in the context of the story. But it's a little crude at times. Just a warning. Enough said.
I don't want to influence what you think happens in this book in case you want to read it yourself, but I think I was influenced just by reading the book cover. It influences you even just to hear that it's a thriller. Honestly, most of the book doesn't feel like a thriller. There's some mystery, but just that of a woman trying to piece together her life, nothing remarkable: does she have kids, friends, accomplishments? The fact that it was said to be a thriller clued me in that there was more beneath the surface of this story. But whether it's paranoia or something else, I'll leave for you to discover.
I was mostly satisfied but not as surprised as I wanted to be by the end. I think the book was too built up by its own cover. It spoiled itself. Weird to say, but true, for me.
Three stars. Hard to put down sometimes, but might leave you asking, "Was it worth the time?"
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
The Map of Time
Felix J. Palma's novel, The Map of Time, is a deceptive little thing, and by "little," I mean gargantuan three-parter. It's an unusual (but not unheard of) read for me for two reasons: 1) it's written by a man, and 2) it's not young adult fiction. The Map of Time is not a lot of things. For instance, most of it is not about real time travel (and by "real," I mean that which is considered real in a fictional world); two of the three parts have to do with people pretending they have time machines. Additionally, the novel is not about one person. Each part focuses on a different main character or two, and though they are all woven together into the story as a whole, it's somewhat upsetting and wearying to swap main characters like that and, for the most part, be done with their stories while two-thirds or a third of the book remains.
So, what is this strange, not-so-little novel about? Set in Victorian England, The Map of Time is about the sensational stir the idea of time travel causes after the publication of H.G. Wells' The Time Machine. Mr. Wells, in fact, makes appearances in all three parts of the book and stars in the third. In Part One, a man loses his lover to Jack the Ripper and wishes to go back in time to kill the man before the murder takes place. In Part Two, a woman falls in love with a Captain from the future but does not realize he is merely an actor, and he, unwilling to crush her spirit, concocts an elaborate hoax to keep her from finding out the truth. In Part Three, H.G. Wells attempts to help solve a murder case in which the assault weapon appears to be futuristic and the words of a novel he's barely finished and not yet shown to anyone are scrawled on the wall above the victim.
The plot may sound intriguing here, but it annoyed me to no end while reading it. The first of the three stories is about a man who falls in love with a prostitute. Okay, who am I to judge? I love the book Redeeming Love, by Francine Rivers, which is all about a man falling in love with a prostitute. But is it love if the relationship is based wholly on sex and the man pays for every encounter? Call me crazy...but I think not. The second story is about a man who takes advantage of a woman falling in love with the person he is pretending to be and tricking her into getting into bed with him though they don't know each other. And might I reiterate, all this takes place in Victorian England. Though I'm well aware that there were prostitutes at that time, too, I'm not convinced that every wife was a cold, dead fish in bed and that every man was a hormonal sex machine like the book so ridiculously implies. Not one of the men in the book stays true to one woman all his life. Jane Austen is turning over in her grave.
It was kind of ironic to me that after the author seemed to have no scruples about writing about sex, he suddenly veered away from a bedroom scene he had been meticulously and detailedly leading up to. But the "Aha" moment came later when the scene was described in detail through a letter. The only defense I can offer up for such writing is that it is presented more or less factually and not too graphically. It's a little crude at parts, but it doesn't dwell or sensationalize. Still, I was rather stupefied as to why two-thirds of a novel that was supposedly about time was spent talking about fake time machines and relationships based entirely upon sex. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that modern "literature" takes on the face of modern people, even if it is set in other eras. But I'd rather be surprised by a novel that exudes talent and goodness. Do those exist anymore? I used to think young adult fiction (which, I remind you, this is not) was beginning to have more sex in it than adult fiction, but I think it's all the same. Both genres have it, and the only difference is how the author approaches the subject. I've been happy lately, however, to find slightly less of it in the young adult novels I've been reading. Maybe I'm just learning to pick my titles better.
The minor redeeming value of The Map of Time is the way it is written. It has a lyrical quality and reads beautifully, which is all the more remarkable since the book is translated from Spanish. The narration is quirky, too, as the narrator addresses the reader directly, frequently reminds the reader that he is omniscient in the story, and ends the book by having H.G. Wells suggest that in a parallel world somewhere someone might be writing about him, wink, wink.
You might wonder why I, self-proclaimed morality gateway to book and movie entertainment, would continue reading this book after the first part's dismaying plot line. I think the gist of it was curiosity (I was searching for that blasted real time machine!) and the compelling readability of the book. I kept thinking, this will get better just around the corner, and though it eventually did, it may have been too little too late. If you want to wade through the odd, morally ambiguous plot to get to the glimmers some people are calling "brilliant," it's your call. But if you trust me, take my word for it and read something a little less gutter-stuck and a bit more satisfactorily happy. I'll let you know if I find such a thing in reviews to come.
So, what is this strange, not-so-little novel about? Set in Victorian England, The Map of Time is about the sensational stir the idea of time travel causes after the publication of H.G. Wells' The Time Machine. Mr. Wells, in fact, makes appearances in all three parts of the book and stars in the third. In Part One, a man loses his lover to Jack the Ripper and wishes to go back in time to kill the man before the murder takes place. In Part Two, a woman falls in love with a Captain from the future but does not realize he is merely an actor, and he, unwilling to crush her spirit, concocts an elaborate hoax to keep her from finding out the truth. In Part Three, H.G. Wells attempts to help solve a murder case in which the assault weapon appears to be futuristic and the words of a novel he's barely finished and not yet shown to anyone are scrawled on the wall above the victim.
The plot may sound intriguing here, but it annoyed me to no end while reading it. The first of the three stories is about a man who falls in love with a prostitute. Okay, who am I to judge? I love the book Redeeming Love, by Francine Rivers, which is all about a man falling in love with a prostitute. But is it love if the relationship is based wholly on sex and the man pays for every encounter? Call me crazy...but I think not. The second story is about a man who takes advantage of a woman falling in love with the person he is pretending to be and tricking her into getting into bed with him though they don't know each other. And might I reiterate, all this takes place in Victorian England. Though I'm well aware that there were prostitutes at that time, too, I'm not convinced that every wife was a cold, dead fish in bed and that every man was a hormonal sex machine like the book so ridiculously implies. Not one of the men in the book stays true to one woman all his life. Jane Austen is turning over in her grave.
It was kind of ironic to me that after the author seemed to have no scruples about writing about sex, he suddenly veered away from a bedroom scene he had been meticulously and detailedly leading up to. But the "Aha" moment came later when the scene was described in detail through a letter. The only defense I can offer up for such writing is that it is presented more or less factually and not too graphically. It's a little crude at parts, but it doesn't dwell or sensationalize. Still, I was rather stupefied as to why two-thirds of a novel that was supposedly about time was spent talking about fake time machines and relationships based entirely upon sex. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that modern "literature" takes on the face of modern people, even if it is set in other eras. But I'd rather be surprised by a novel that exudes talent and goodness. Do those exist anymore? I used to think young adult fiction (which, I remind you, this is not) was beginning to have more sex in it than adult fiction, but I think it's all the same. Both genres have it, and the only difference is how the author approaches the subject. I've been happy lately, however, to find slightly less of it in the young adult novels I've been reading. Maybe I'm just learning to pick my titles better.
The minor redeeming value of The Map of Time is the way it is written. It has a lyrical quality and reads beautifully, which is all the more remarkable since the book is translated from Spanish. The narration is quirky, too, as the narrator addresses the reader directly, frequently reminds the reader that he is omniscient in the story, and ends the book by having H.G. Wells suggest that in a parallel world somewhere someone might be writing about him, wink, wink.
You might wonder why I, self-proclaimed morality gateway to book and movie entertainment, would continue reading this book after the first part's dismaying plot line. I think the gist of it was curiosity (I was searching for that blasted real time machine!) and the compelling readability of the book. I kept thinking, this will get better just around the corner, and though it eventually did, it may have been too little too late. If you want to wade through the odd, morally ambiguous plot to get to the glimmers some people are calling "brilliant," it's your call. But if you trust me, take my word for it and read something a little less gutter-stuck and a bit more satisfactorily happy. I'll let you know if I find such a thing in reviews to come.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
The Night Circus
A circus is supposed to be magical and is often a little bit scary (clowns, hello!). The Night Circus is unlike any other circus in the world, but magical it is, and if its performers knew the true nature of their stage, they would be scared, and with good reason. But as you read The Night Circus, a novel by Erin Morgenstern (adult fiction, for once!), it is nothing but pure magic, in both the literal and figurative senses. Sometimes you enter the circus as an outsider, enjoying the scents and miracles within, but most often, you get front row seats to the inner happenings, a backstage pass.
In The Night Circus, two old magicians with real magic each select a student to compete against the other in a challenge. It's not immediately clear what the rules are or how the winner will be determined. Hector chooses his daughter Celia, and Alexander chooses a random orphan named Marco. They train them in very different ways from childhood through their teens and then place them on their "stage," a unique circus especially designed for the challenge and with higher stakes than any challenge before as this one is public and involves a great number of outsiders.
The circus is a huge success from the beginning. Everything about it is designed to be intimate and spectacular. Only performers with unique shows and talents can participate, and the circus is open to audiences only from sundown to dawn, appearing out of nowhere, leaving without a trace. But the circus is truly magical because of the influences of Celia and Marco, each leaving their mark, creating more and more illusions as the years progress, neither quite understanding how to compete against the other, each beginning to love the other's work...and eventually each other. Gentle souls that they are, they keep the circus in balance, protecting it and the other performers.
But they are bound by magic, and in the end, there can be only one winner.
Magical, magical, magical to the very last page! How could you not love this book? It fascinates you with the best parts of the circus and draws you in with its mystery. In certain ways, it is very like a mystery as you discover more and more of the secrets of the circus and learn, together with the competing magicians, just what their challenge involves. The circus is also a complete mystery to its audience, which the reader is sometimes made to feel a part of even though we often have the inside scoop, and we can identify with audience characters, especially those who become attached to the circus in a deeper way than the average paying customer. It's a cleverly written book, making the reader feel as though opening its pages is entering through the gates of the circus itself. A normal circus is intriguing enough but often somewhat in-your-face and scary. Thankfully, there are no clowns in this book, and even the circus tents are set up intimately so that no performer is haggling anyone or persuading anyone to visit his tent. Visitors get to visit the tents they want at their own pace. The circus is inviting, enticing, and as a reader, you completely feel its pull and warmth.
The only other book I can think of to compare The Night Circus to is The Prestige
(also a movie
), though I couldn't say for sure, only ever having seen the movie and not having read the book. In The Prestige, however, the explanations are all scientific (though in the realm of science fiction). In The Night Circus, everything is real magic. For all of you who are more into movies than books, there is another similarity between the two. Summit Entertainment has purchased the film rights to this book, and I wouldn't be surprised to find the movie out within a couple years.
My short word of caution on this book involves, unsurprisingly, magic itself. In a book like this, no form of magic bothers me. Tarot card reading is mixed in with the ability to disappear or heal oneself. Obviously, in the real world, people can't disappear, but they do read tarot cards, and I would normally discourage a person from being involved with something like that. In this book, it's all on the same level, impossible magic next to real-world "magic," lending the real-world magic an air of fantasy, putting it all in the realm of fiction. In such a case, I don't have a problem with tarot cards, because they aren't meant to be believed any more than any other magic in the story. But if a conscience-abiding reader cannot, or does not want to, separate real-world magic from fiction like that, I would advise against reading this story. That's my only disclaimer.
I can't imagine the movie capturing even half the book, but I do look forward to visiting the circus again in that way one day. Probably by then, I will have forgotten enough of the book to be captured all over again by the magic. I can only hope!
Look for The Night Circus in hardcover in September of this year.
In The Night Circus, two old magicians with real magic each select a student to compete against the other in a challenge. It's not immediately clear what the rules are or how the winner will be determined. Hector chooses his daughter Celia, and Alexander chooses a random orphan named Marco. They train them in very different ways from childhood through their teens and then place them on their "stage," a unique circus especially designed for the challenge and with higher stakes than any challenge before as this one is public and involves a great number of outsiders.
The circus is a huge success from the beginning. Everything about it is designed to be intimate and spectacular. Only performers with unique shows and talents can participate, and the circus is open to audiences only from sundown to dawn, appearing out of nowhere, leaving without a trace. But the circus is truly magical because of the influences of Celia and Marco, each leaving their mark, creating more and more illusions as the years progress, neither quite understanding how to compete against the other, each beginning to love the other's work...and eventually each other. Gentle souls that they are, they keep the circus in balance, protecting it and the other performers.
But they are bound by magic, and in the end, there can be only one winner.
Magical, magical, magical to the very last page! How could you not love this book? It fascinates you with the best parts of the circus and draws you in with its mystery. In certain ways, it is very like a mystery as you discover more and more of the secrets of the circus and learn, together with the competing magicians, just what their challenge involves. The circus is also a complete mystery to its audience, which the reader is sometimes made to feel a part of even though we often have the inside scoop, and we can identify with audience characters, especially those who become attached to the circus in a deeper way than the average paying customer. It's a cleverly written book, making the reader feel as though opening its pages is entering through the gates of the circus itself. A normal circus is intriguing enough but often somewhat in-your-face and scary. Thankfully, there are no clowns in this book, and even the circus tents are set up intimately so that no performer is haggling anyone or persuading anyone to visit his tent. Visitors get to visit the tents they want at their own pace. The circus is inviting, enticing, and as a reader, you completely feel its pull and warmth.
The only other book I can think of to compare The Night Circus to is The Prestige
(also a movie), though I couldn't say for sure, only ever having seen the movie and not having read the book. In The Prestige, however, the explanations are all scientific (though in the realm of science fiction). In The Night Circus, everything is real magic. For all of you who are more into movies than books, there is another similarity between the two. Summit Entertainment has purchased the film rights to this book, and I wouldn't be surprised to find the movie out within a couple years.My short word of caution on this book involves, unsurprisingly, magic itself. In a book like this, no form of magic bothers me. Tarot card reading is mixed in with the ability to disappear or heal oneself. Obviously, in the real world, people can't disappear, but they do read tarot cards, and I would normally discourage a person from being involved with something like that. In this book, it's all on the same level, impossible magic next to real-world "magic," lending the real-world magic an air of fantasy, putting it all in the realm of fiction. In such a case, I don't have a problem with tarot cards, because they aren't meant to be believed any more than any other magic in the story. But if a conscience-abiding reader cannot, or does not want to, separate real-world magic from fiction like that, I would advise against reading this story. That's my only disclaimer.
I can't imagine the movie capturing even half the book, but I do look forward to visiting the circus again in that way one day. Probably by then, I will have forgotten enough of the book to be captured all over again by the magic. I can only hope!
Look for The Night Circus in hardcover in September of this year.
Friday, March 4, 2011
The Twisted Thread
I realize it has been a long time since I reviewed a book on this blog. For awhile, I had a new book review up every week, and then I started reading a book thats a bit outside my typical arena of interests. I still haven't finished that book (though I plan to and don't think it's a bad read), but I did read and review another in the interim. Now I have read one more since starting that book, and I suspect For the Win will have to wait a little longer while I squeeze some fast, light reading in over the next few weeks (hopefully!).
The book I just finished was not fast, light reading. Actually it is similar in one way to For the Win, that being that the point of view switches each chapter to another person, and there is nothing that slows down reading for me like that. Switching point of view offers a natural break, and you are more inclined to slip your bookmark in and leave it for another time or day. You lose the sense of urgency that keeping to one point of view gives you. Now, it can be done well, this switching, if each character is fascinating and adds valuable pieces to the puzzle.
But The Twisted Thread
(out in June of 2011, no cover yet) wasn't an example of that. Charlotte Bacon's novel is adult mystery. (For once, I didn't read a young adult book, and as you'll see, it only confirmed for me why I prefer young adult.) Why adult fiction thinks it has to be so literary and verbose I don't know. By "literary," in this case, I mean the attempt to create depth and evoke color out of the most mundane aspects of life, usually by giving far too many completely boring details. Young adult fiction, on the other hand, knows it has to work hard to keep its audience, so it's more snappy, more to the point. Occasionally, the slower pace of adult fiction is pleasant, but in that case, there has to be a real spark in the author's writing to keep you hooked.
The Twisted Thread lacked spark, but what it mostly lacked was pay-off. I found the concept interesting enough to read and keep reading, despite the many breaks due to changes in point of view. The book begins with the discovery of a teenage girl's murder on an elite boarding school campus. An intern named Madeline, one of the book's points of view, sees the body and realizes the girl has just given birth, but no one knew she was pregnant and the baby is nowhere to be found. The school is used to solving its problems in-house, and everyone clams up when the police get involved. Everyone seems suspicious, and as Madeline discovers a secret girl club called the Reign of Terror, she realizes there are many things wrong with Armitage Academy, on many levels.
If that sounds as interesting to you as it did to me, let me save you a lot of wasted time. I'll even tell you the end, I'm that confident you don't want to read this book. So, obviously, SPOILERS. The Reign of Terror ends up having almost nothing to do with the end. The murdered girl was their leader, and they had disagreements. But they didn't kill her. It turns out the girl, Claire, was just a spoiled rich kid who found out the head of her academy once loved her mother. Angry at the life she felt she'd missed out on (despite being rich already), she slept with the head's son as a kind of payback. But then she got pregnant and realized she could use that to ruin Armitage and the head's family. So, she carried the baby secretly, and when it was born, she got her boyfriend (not the boy she'd slept with) to hide the baby. The baby's father, the head's son and a senior at Armitage, accidentally kills Claire in a fit of rage.
What I couldn't understand when I finally read this disappointing revelation was why everyone who knew anything kept it secret. It just didn't seem...well, big enough. I mean, it was tragic, and I can understand why the head would be reluctant to turn in his son. In fact, he tries to tell the police he did it instead of his son by the end, but the whole book basically convinces you that the head's a decent guy. At the end, you still feel like he's a good man, and so you're just left wondering why he tried to cover things up. And you wonder why the people taking care of the baby or the boyfriend who hid the baby don't come forward. They all have their reasons, but none of them seem good enough. It might have been logical, and it might have been how something like that would really go down. But it didn't make for a good story pay-off. Am I saying I wanted more scandal at the end? For this book, yes. The book seemed to be leading up to it, and then it wasn't nearly as bad as you'd been led to believe. Strangely enough, morality conscious that I am, I wanted something a little more edgy at the end. But rather than edgy, I got a different kind of immorality.
Morally, the book wasn't too bad until the end. The F-word was used a few times, but in adult fiction, I'm not too bothered by it. What really disgusted me was that at the end, Madeline, who has been attracted to two men the entire book, sleeps with one and has a summer relationship with him and then decides his life is going in another direction and begins a relationship with the other one. Okay. So, that, sadly, happens in real life. It's more messy in real life, but it's there. The thing is...this is a book! This is a story that should be bigger than life! I don't want my heroine to sleep with one guy and then agree to have dinner with another one at the end. What's romantic or happy about that? What's satisfying about that? Yuck.
So, I didn't like this book at all. The only reason I even give it as much as two stars is that it grabbed me enough to want to know the outcome. I shouldn't have expected the outcome to be any more interesting than the rest of the book.
I'm looking forward to reading some good young adult fiction again next.
The book I just finished was not fast, light reading. Actually it is similar in one way to For the Win, that being that the point of view switches each chapter to another person, and there is nothing that slows down reading for me like that. Switching point of view offers a natural break, and you are more inclined to slip your bookmark in and leave it for another time or day. You lose the sense of urgency that keeping to one point of view gives you. Now, it can be done well, this switching, if each character is fascinating and adds valuable pieces to the puzzle.
But The Twisted Thread
(out in June of 2011, no cover yet) wasn't an example of that. Charlotte Bacon's novel is adult mystery. (For once, I didn't read a young adult book, and as you'll see, it only confirmed for me why I prefer young adult.) Why adult fiction thinks it has to be so literary and verbose I don't know. By "literary," in this case, I mean the attempt to create depth and evoke color out of the most mundane aspects of life, usually by giving far too many completely boring details. Young adult fiction, on the other hand, knows it has to work hard to keep its audience, so it's more snappy, more to the point. Occasionally, the slower pace of adult fiction is pleasant, but in that case, there has to be a real spark in the author's writing to keep you hooked.The Twisted Thread lacked spark, but what it mostly lacked was pay-off. I found the concept interesting enough to read and keep reading, despite the many breaks due to changes in point of view. The book begins with the discovery of a teenage girl's murder on an elite boarding school campus. An intern named Madeline, one of the book's points of view, sees the body and realizes the girl has just given birth, but no one knew she was pregnant and the baby is nowhere to be found. The school is used to solving its problems in-house, and everyone clams up when the police get involved. Everyone seems suspicious, and as Madeline discovers a secret girl club called the Reign of Terror, she realizes there are many things wrong with Armitage Academy, on many levels.
If that sounds as interesting to you as it did to me, let me save you a lot of wasted time. I'll even tell you the end, I'm that confident you don't want to read this book. So, obviously, SPOILERS. The Reign of Terror ends up having almost nothing to do with the end. The murdered girl was their leader, and they had disagreements. But they didn't kill her. It turns out the girl, Claire, was just a spoiled rich kid who found out the head of her academy once loved her mother. Angry at the life she felt she'd missed out on (despite being rich already), she slept with the head's son as a kind of payback. But then she got pregnant and realized she could use that to ruin Armitage and the head's family. So, she carried the baby secretly, and when it was born, she got her boyfriend (not the boy she'd slept with) to hide the baby. The baby's father, the head's son and a senior at Armitage, accidentally kills Claire in a fit of rage.
What I couldn't understand when I finally read this disappointing revelation was why everyone who knew anything kept it secret. It just didn't seem...well, big enough. I mean, it was tragic, and I can understand why the head would be reluctant to turn in his son. In fact, he tries to tell the police he did it instead of his son by the end, but the whole book basically convinces you that the head's a decent guy. At the end, you still feel like he's a good man, and so you're just left wondering why he tried to cover things up. And you wonder why the people taking care of the baby or the boyfriend who hid the baby don't come forward. They all have their reasons, but none of them seem good enough. It might have been logical, and it might have been how something like that would really go down. But it didn't make for a good story pay-off. Am I saying I wanted more scandal at the end? For this book, yes. The book seemed to be leading up to it, and then it wasn't nearly as bad as you'd been led to believe. Strangely enough, morality conscious that I am, I wanted something a little more edgy at the end. But rather than edgy, I got a different kind of immorality.
Morally, the book wasn't too bad until the end. The F-word was used a few times, but in adult fiction, I'm not too bothered by it. What really disgusted me was that at the end, Madeline, who has been attracted to two men the entire book, sleeps with one and has a summer relationship with him and then decides his life is going in another direction and begins a relationship with the other one. Okay. So, that, sadly, happens in real life. It's more messy in real life, but it's there. The thing is...this is a book! This is a story that should be bigger than life! I don't want my heroine to sleep with one guy and then agree to have dinner with another one at the end. What's romantic or happy about that? What's satisfying about that? Yuck.
So, I didn't like this book at all. The only reason I even give it as much as two stars is that it grabbed me enough to want to know the outcome. I shouldn't have expected the outcome to be any more interesting than the rest of the book.
I'm looking forward to reading some good young adult fiction again next.
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