Meditation on my 2013 Year in Reading

It's hard to believe that this is the fifth year I've done a post like this. I feel like I've done a good job taking control of my reading, at least in terms of tracking what happens, which has made it easier to compile stats. And who doesn't love stats? Don't answer that.


Read: 121 (including 24 audiobooks and 15 ebooks), about the same number as 2012. Goodreads says this is slightly over 40,000 pages. The longest book by far was Brandon Sanderson's The Way of Kings, which clocked in at 1,007 pages. More than half of the books I read were romances, so I'm going to break that down into more categories this year.

Romance, general: 18
Romance, historical: 17
Romance, lesbian: 17
Romance, erotic: 14
Fantasy: 21
Young Adult: 9 (4 Fantasy, 5 Science Fiction)
Manga/Graphic Novels: 6
Nonfiction: 4
Mystery/Suspense: 4
Middle Grade: 3
Science Fiction: 3
Historical Fiction: 2
General Fiction: 2
Picture books read to Little G: still ∞

My goal for 2013 was to read 125 books, and I didn't quite make it there, despite spending November reading furiously. I would have easily reached my goal if not for the siren call of fanfiction, which reappeared in my life at the end of 2013 after a long absence. In any case, I think 125 is the outer limit of what I can read in one year--not surprising, since it requires reading at a rate of more than two books a week. For the first time in many years, I didn't read any Young Adult books with LGBTQ emphasis. I'm not sure why, but nothing seemed to grab my attention. Some of the YA books I read refused to address LGBTQ issues at all. Last year was very light on nonfiction as well.

Compared to 2012, the number of audiobooks went down slightly, from 29 to 24, and the number of ebooks went up from 10 to 15. This is at least partially due to the fact that I chose the audio format to plow through some long works, such as the aforementioned Way of Kings. It takes a long time to get through 36 CDs, even with a half hour commute. On this front, I'm pleased to announce that I picked up an assignment, mid-year, as an audiobook reviewer for Library Journal. So far it's been very enjoyable!

My Fifty Shades of Grey readalike project (recap forthcoming) was the primary reason that I read so many erotic romances, and my Reading Roulette project (recap also forthcoming) led to reading several entire series--mostly fantasy and romance. This year I decided to look at the breakdown between male and female authors among the books I read, and the outcome was very heavily skewed toward female authors. I read 98 books by women, 22 books by men, and one book, Freedom & Necessity, that was co-written by a man and woman. I am completely on board with this trend and hope it continues in 2014. I'm not rejecting books written by men out of hand, but there tend to be more female characters in books written by women, and I'm past the point of wanting to read so much about dudes.

Looking forward, I am going to continue my Reading Roulette project into the new year. It's really expanded my horizons in terms of making me read things I would never choose on my own, which can only help me when it comes time for Reader's Advisory. I'm also going to try to participate in the Year in Reading, kicking off in January with a book from the year I was born. Some of the likely candidates so far: The Silmarillion (*sigh*), The Thorn Birds, and Agatha Christie: An Autobiography. I took my reading goal down to a more reasonable 100 books, as I am hoping to write some as well as read this year.

What were your favorite reads of 2013? What's your plan for 2014?


My favorite reads of the year:

Beautiful Bastard, Christina Lauren
Deep Deception, Cathy Pegau
Etiquette & Espionage and Curtsies & Conspiracies, Gail Carriger
For Darkness Shows the Stars and Across a Star-Swept Sea, Diana Peterfreund
Hyperbole and a Half, Allie Brosh
The Kat Series (Kat, Incorrigible, Renegade Magic, Stolen Magic), Stephanie Burgis
The Luckiest Lady in London, Sherry Thomas
A Natural History of Dragons: A Memoir by Lady Trent, Marie Brennan
The Republic of Thieves, Scott Lynch
The Rosie Project, Graeme Simsion
A Woman Entangled, Cecilia Grant


Meditation on my 2012 Year in Reading (117 books)
Meditation on my 2011 Year in Reading (62 books)
Meditation on my 2010 Year in Reading (51 books)
Meditation on my 2009 Year in Reading (87 books)

Meditation Index

#NaBoReMo Recap

After the first week of the National Book Reading Month challenge, I revised my reading goal from 1,500 pages to 5,000 pages. I'm sure you're all wondering if I managed to reach that goal! Here's what I read during the month:

Reading Roulette challenge books:
Persuasion, Jane Austen
For Darkness Shows the Stars, Diana Peterfreund
A Fire Upon the Deep, Vernor Vinge
Renegade Magic, Stephanie Burgis
Stolen Magic, Stephanie Burgis
The Scarlet Pimpernel, Baroness Orczy

Read for fun:
Cursties & Conspiracies, Gail Carriger (ARC)
Like Jazz, Heather Blackmore (e-ARC)
Love Overdue, Pamela Morsi
The Way of Kings, Brandon Sanderson (audiobook)
Oath of Honor, Radclyffe (ebook)
Finding Home, Georgia Beers
A Rogue by Any Other Name, Sarah MacLean
The Luckiest Lady in London, Sherry Thomas

Still in progress as of 12/1/13:
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (audiobook)
I am Malala, Malala Yousafzai with Christina Lamb (audiobook)
Across A Star-Swept Sea, Diana Peterfreund

As you can see, many of the books I read were not from my other reading challenge. I decided that in order to read 5,000 pages in thirty days, I was going to allow myself to read whatever I wanted. Unsurprisingly, it turned out that I wanted to read romance novels. This list doesn't include the array of fanfiction I read in November.

The average number of pages for the fourteen books I completed was 346 (thanks, Brandon Sanderson!). In the case of the unfinished audiobooks, I used paper copies to determine what page I had gotten to. After all this, the total number of pages was:

(drum roll)

(still rolling)

(drummer rolling eyes at me)

5,127

Deploy the self-cleaning confetti!

My NaBoReMo Update

This morning I figured out how many pages I've read since the beginning of the month for National Novel/Book Reading Month, and came up with 1,590. Given that my goal was to read 1,500 pages, I felt gratified, yet embarrassed. Apparently, I have no idea how fast I read--I don't think I've shifted my reading habits dramatically just to read more during the month of November. I am conscious of choosing reading here and there over paying full attention to the television, but still.

The books I've completed are:

Curtsies & Conspiracies, Gail Carriger (paper ARC)
Like Jazz, Heather Blackmore (e-ARC)
Persuasion, Jane Austen (as part of my other reading challenge)
Love Overdue, Pamela Morsi

I have been slowly working my way through the 36 audio CDs of Brandon Sanderson's The Way of Kings for the last several weeks, and I'm currently about halfway through Diana Peterfreund's For Darkness Shows the Stars. I haven't made a huge amount of progress, page-wise, with my audiobook since the beginning of the Month--less than two hundred pages. I'm going to need a long trip, or to sit down with the paper copy (which I also have) to finish that behemoth.

So here we are on November 8th, and I've already read past my goal number of pages. I think this calls for a more ambitious goal, so I'm going to revise it to 5,000 pages. Because I can.

Reading Challenge: NaNoReMo (aka NaBoReMo)

Yesterday, LibraryReads suggested that those of us not currently writing like fiends celebrate the month of November by "reading furiously"--or, for those of us who are already doing that in pursuit of weird challenges, reading EVEN MORE FURIOUSLY.

My friend Jenna (@auntie_jenn) and I have already taken to Twitter with our pledges to read at least 1500 pages this month, which seems pretty doable after I spent between 1:00 and 3:30 this morning reading a romance novel on my ipod. I'm going to track and share my page totals every day, using the hashtag #nanoremo (National Novel Reading Month)--several people pointed out the "bore" in the middle of #naboremo, and my reading is anything but boring.*

Here is my hastily assembled FAQ:

Only novels? That doesn't seem fair.
I suggest you read whatever the heck you want. I'm not going to count the picture books I read to my son because I am lazy, but if I were reading them to myself I sure would.

I only do audiobooks!
I suppose you could pledge to listen to a certain number of CDs, but you could also check the page count of the print version and use that number. If you're listening to an abridged version, give it your best guess. If you don't get all the way through your audiobook by the end of the month, do the same.

What about ebooks? The pagination is different.
I decided this morning at 3:30 that I would use the pages listed for the print edition. If I fail to get all the way through an ebook in November, I'm going to estimate the percentage and make a rough calculation.

What about magazines?
Whatever floats your boat.

Your record-keeping seems rather lax.
Those NaNoWriMo people are very in to their word counts, aren't they? But we, the supportive readers, should feel free to round up. Reading is reading.


As a former NaNoWriMo participant, I also want all current participants to know that I support them! I am looking forward to reading their efforts during future NaNoReMos. In the meantime, I will continue to work on my novels at a rate of one sentence per fortnight.

*Oh, fine, I'll bow to my friends at LibraryReads and use #NaBoReMo, since it's their baby. :)

Book Review: Matched Trilogy

Ally Condie's Matched Trilogy consists of Matched, Crossed, and Reached. It's a dystopian YA series in the vein of The Hunger Games and Uglies. I listened to the majority of the books in the car and on my ipod, but also forged ahead with the books at times when I was too impatient to wait for another car trip.
This series is a textbook case for the pitfalls and frequently shifting landscape in the relationship between ebooks and libraries. I downloaded Matched from OverDrive in Mac-compatible MP3 format on a whim (it was on my list but had not come up on my Roulette list), then went back for Crossed. It was only available as a WMA file. Reached wasn't available at all, so I had to get those books on CD. Why? The series is published by Penguin, which doesn't play with OverDrive anymore. THANKS, PENGUIN!

All right, on to the review. Spoilers ahoy.

In the world of the Society, everything is predetermined: what you eat, where you go and the activities you do, even who you are supposed to love. The Officials who run the Society do their best to assign a probability to every possible event. As Matched begins, we follow seventeen-year old Cassia to her Match Banquet, at which she will be paired with her Society-selected perfect mate. There is a brief mention of people who decide not to participate in this process, but by and large, people in the Society choose to be matched. At the banquet, Cassia is surprised and pleased to find herself matched with her best friend and neighbor, Xander. It isn't until she's alone later that another picture flashes in Xander's place, that of the aloof Ky...is Ky her real match? How could the Society possibly make a mistake?

The first book focuses not only on Cassia's struggle to choose between the clever, patient Xander and the quiet, mysterious Ky (both of whom seem well-matched to her) but also on the details of the restrictive life of the Society. Although the Society has eliminated most diseases and optimized life for all its members, we learn through Cassia's interaction with her grandfather that all citizens are poisoned on their 80th birthday if they do not die of natural causes before then. Citizens do not know how to write, and all cultural artifacts--songs, paintings, poems, stories--have been reduced to a "top 100" of each category. There is a lively black market trade for items from before the Society was in power, known as artifacts. Before his death, Cassia's grandfather gives her two contraband poems (one by Dylan Thomas and one by Tennyson), putting her in the awkward position of having precious but illegal material. Knowledge of these words becomes one of the things that bind Cassia and Ky together, despite her ties with Xander. While there are some signs of societal strain in Matched, it isn't until Crossed that Cassia, Ky, and Xander become fully aware of and involved in any rebellion.

Condie uses first-person narration in each book, adding characters each volume--Matched is told solely from Cassia's point of view, Crossed incorporates Ky's story, and Reached features Xander as well. This slow expansion of the reader's knowledge about the characters mirrors their growth and understanding of the Society and their roles in its potential downfall. The love triangle aspect is essentially decided by the end of Matched, although it pops up from time to time in the subsequent books. I appreciated the fact that Xander was portrayed as a strong and sympathetic character with his own voice, despite being the odd man out. Through crisis, each of the three finds a role that they are suited to play, and the trilogy comes to a satisfactory conclusion--after an interesting veer into thriller territory, as they race against time to develop a successful vaccine. Condie's worldbuilding is excellent, and I would definitely recommend the trilogy to fans of dystopian YA.

However.

I was consistently bothered by the lack of LGBTQ characters in this series. The premise of the first book rests heavily on matching, and there is little to no explanation of what happens when citizens are not heterosexual. Are they the mysterious "singles" that are so briefly alluded to? Are they among the people that the Society has labeled aberrations and anomalies? Has the Society "fixed" the "problem" of homosexuality? How much stronger would the story have been if Condie had incorporated any queer characters, giving the already creepy prospect of matching yet another dimension? If you're writing a story set in a world that is obviously our own, there is absolutely no good reason for leaving out these kinds of characters, or for not addressing of the questions I posed above. As I recently wrote in a post for Gay YA, the ability of LGBTQ teens to find characters like themselves in fiction is incredibly important, and I know this trilogy is popular. It's been optioned by Disney for movie production. It's very disappointing that Condie chose not to tackle this subject when it only could have enriched her work.

Just as I'm totally over reading contemporary YA fiction without gay characters, I am so totally over reading YA in my favorite genres (SF and Fantasy) that doesn't include them.

Grade: B+

For posts on LGBTQ characters in YA dystopia, see Kirkus (Paolo Bacigalupi) and YALSA. The Outer Alliance purportedly has a list of gay YA dystopias, but their site seems to be down at the moment.

Book Review Index

Book Review: Smooth Talking Stranger [2009]

Smooth Talking Stranger is the third book in a series about the Travis siblings by Lisa Kleypas. While another book in the series, Blue Eyed Devil, was mentioned once as a potential 50 Shades readalike, Smooth Talking Stranger was mentioned about 25% of the time in the sources I consulted. I listened to the audio version of this book, and found it quite addictive. It ended up being one of my favorites of the books I read for this project. Some spoilers below.

Jack Travis is a millionaire playboy who is rarely seen with the same woman twice. When Ella Varner appears in his office with a baby she claims is his, he's taken aback . . . and intrigued. Although he claims he hasn't slept with Ella's sister, Tara, he is willing to go through DNA testing. In the meantime, relationship advice columnist Ella is finding her carefully ordered life turned upside down by the nephew that has been thrust upon her by her brittle, uncaring mother and rehab-bound sister. At the beginning of the story, Ella is in a relationship with a man who doesn't believe in marriage or commitment, and she has come to espouse those ideals as well. When Jack challenges her preconceived notions, she finds it hard to ignore the points he makes, even as she stubbornly tries to maintain her independence.

Grade: A

There's so much to like in this well-rounded book, in which women have conversations with each other that aren't about men, there are some truly unlikable people but no true villains, and a baby is a plot device but isn't just used and then never seen again. Luke requires housing, feeding, and energy from both Ella and Jack, and he ends up feeling like more than a convenient trope. The progression of Jack and Ella's relationship was very well-developed, and included a lot of moments among his and her family members that made it seem much more grounded in reality than many of the books I've been reading recently.

As for its similarity to 50 Shades, Jack is definitely a dominant male, and the setting is, once again, among the  one percent. Unlike the James books, however, Ella is the one with the traumatic past (trigger warning for attempted rape, as is true of many of these books), although like Eva of the Crossfire trilogy she has taken steps to care for herself and move forward. If someone came to the reference desk and asked me for a good contemporary romance, I wouldn't hesitate to hand this one over, 50 Shades or no 50 Shades.

Book Review Index

Book Review: Gabriel's Inferno [2011]

On the list of 50 Shades readalikes I’ve read so far, Sylvain Reynard’s Gabriel’s Inferno has by far the least explicit sex, but it also has some of the most sensual scenes and language. Originally written as Twilight fan fiction, the book and its sequel were both best-sellers for their pseudonymous Canadian author. Some spoilers below.

Julia Mitchell is an American graduate student newly enrolled at the University of Toronto and writing her thesis on Dante. Professor Gabriel Emerson is the instructor for her Dante seminar. Due to several unfortunate coincidences, they do not get off to a good start, and Professor Emerson acts like--as described quite often in the text--an ass. What takes some time to become clear is the details of their shared past; six years before the story opens, Julia and Gabriel shared one perfect (chaste) evening which she has never forgotten. Professor Emerson, however, is a creature of some dark and lustful habits, and believes that their meeting was a product of his drug-addled imagination.

Once this misunderstanding is cleared up, Gabriel is determined not to let Julia stray far from his side again, but there are various complicating factors: she is still enrolled in his class, which makes any relationship between them a violation of university policy; he is burdened by secrets that he is convinced make him unworthy of her love; her abusive ex-boyfriend resurfaces to cause trouble; she’s a virgin who finds it hard to trust his attraction to her . . . the list goes on. But it’s a romance, so you know they will manage to be together in the end (unlike the first 50 Shades book).

Grade: B+

My primary irritation with the book had to do with the “we met six years ago and I remember but you don’t remember me and I’m not going to tell you” plotline that consumes so much of the first part of the narrative. Julia spends so much time waiting for him to figure it out, and I’ve never liked it when romances use that kind of narrative device to create tension. However, once they got over that hump, I was able to get on board and appreciate the slow unfolding of their relationship. And I do mean slow.

The type of reader who prefers their romances to start fast, with sex in the first few chapters, should stay far away from Gabriel’s Inferno. By the time they were preparing to have intercourse for the first time, it was disc 16 (out of 16) in the audio version. This chastity, of course, makes the book very different than the 50 Shades books (although I don’t know yet what happens in the sequel, Gabriel’s Rapture, or in the forthcoming Gabriel’s Redemption). In an interview with USA Today, “Sylvain Reynard”--a male pseudonym that many consider to be hiding a female author--addressed his views on writing explicit sex:

“I think that leaving things to the imagination is what creates seduction. Sometimes one can have too much of a good thing. Part of the thrill of sex is the anticipation, so as a writer I'm conscious of that fact. In my view, sex is a mystery. If one focuses on the mechanics of sex or the awkwardness of two human beings communing physically, it takes away from the mysterious and sometimes transcendent aspects of it.”

After recently reading so many books with incredibly detailed sexual encounters, I appreciated this refreshing approach. I listened to the audio version, and the narrator was above average, especially when describing intimate scenes.

As for similarities to 50 Shades, Gabriel has many of the same controlling tendencies (bordering on asshole, until he tempers them) as Christian, as well as a taste for expensive things. Julia is a virgin, but not an innocent, and she has had a difficult life with two neglectful parents and an abusive ex. Ana’s parents are much more present and involved, but the women do share a core of strength despite their insecurity and inexperience. Other things that recall 50 Shades are the importance of music to the narrative and Julia’s lip-biting habit, as well as the obvious fact that they are both published Twilight fan fiction.

Completely unlike the EL James books is Reynard’s use of the story of Dante and Beatrice, Dante scholarship, Italian quotes, and other scholarly trappings. Themes of devils and angels, transgression and redemption, and sin and forgiveness loom large. As a former scholar myself, these parts were some of my favorites, especially when Gabriel and Julia had a fight in the seminar in which they both tried to relate their injured feelings to Dante scholarship. However, I was a bit skeptical that Gabriel, in his early 30s and with a history of drug abuse and violent behavior, would have been able to get tenure and publish prolifically enough to be one of the foremost scholars in his field. Yes, that is where I had trouble suspending my disbelief.

And one last warning, there is a near-rape scene that might cause some distress.

Book Review Index

Book Review: 50 Shades Trilogy [2012]

It seems almost ridiculous for me to weigh in on this trilogy after everything that has been written about it already, but I want to provide my take here before I move on to reviewing some of the books that have been offered as readalikes.* I read Fifty Shades of Grey and Fifty Shades Darker on paper, and listened to the audio version of Fifty Shades Freed. I got all three through my library without a long wait. Let me tell you, it is very weird to listen to an erotic story being read aloud when the heroine shares your name.

I’m not sure whether I would have picked up the books (and persevered through all of them) if I weren’t a librarian; what motivated me initially was a desire to discover for myself what was compelling so many of my patrons to read the books, which required them to put their names on enormous holds lists. I interacted with several people who, faced with the fact that they would be 450th in line, told me they were just going to buy the book.

I believe that the appeal of the books (in terms of the public’s consumption) wanes by about 30% after the first book, as the sales figures and holds ratios seem to bear out. In my library system, there are still twice as many holds on the first book as the successive volumes (159 holds on 428 total copies vs. 73/300 and 86/284). The first book of the trilogy has sold 168,959 copies in 2013 (as of this week's Publishers Weekly data) vs. 115,447 and 112,251 for the second and third books, respectively. I’m not sure if this is a result of a bottleneck created by people still waiting for their hold on the first book to come in, or how this drop-off after the first book compares to other series.

But enough idle speculation, let me get to my thoughts about the series. The trilogy involves the complicated, often tortured relationship between a young mogul, Christian Grey, and Anastasia Steele, who is a college senior when the first book opens. Christian copes with the traumas of his tortured past by attempting to exert absolute control over his environment, especially his sexual partners. Ana is an innocent who is swept up by his magnetism and power, but she finds it impossible to be the completely submissive partner Christian wants, even though she comes to care for him deeply. They learn to compromise as various challenges threaten their relationship. As you have probably heard, the books were originally conceived as Twilight fan fiction.

I will say up front that I enjoyed parts of the trilogy, but felt that it would have been a much stronger product if someone had taken a firmer editorial hand with the text. Never mind the plot points, James repeated so many phrases (“Oh, my sweet Fifty!”) and descriptive terms that it was very difficult for someone like me, who approaches life with red pen in hand, to remain immersed in the story. As a longtime romance reader, I wasn’t particularly shocked by the content; in fact, it was a bit tamer than I had been led to expect by some pearl-clutching reactions.

The trilogy is essentially a romance with a more explicit erotic content (some BDSM-related) than you would find in your garden-variety genre book. Ana and Christian (spoiler!) end up living happily-ever-after. The books feature the reformation of an overbearing male character that is not unlike the redemption of a rake in a historical romance. Although I found the primary external threat to their relationship unbelievable, I did appreciate the push-and-pull of negotiation between Christian and Ana over the course of the books, which didn’t stop after their marriage. It was interesting to see how things developed, as well as the material she was drawing from Twilight. One of the most peculiar reactions I had was to feel that James had created a backstory that made the actions of the characters in the Twilight Saga (which I also read and enjoyed portions of) make sense.

Grade: C+

I recommend that librarians on the front lines read (or listen to) at least the first book in the series, so they will be able to make informed collection decisions and be able to do the best reader’s advisory they can. There are various reasons that a patron might be interested in the series; this article on its appeal factors is a good starting point when trying to understand why it has been and continues to be such a phenomenon. I will say that when I tell patrons that I have read the series, they are immediately put more at ease and willing to open up to me when they’re asking for my help at the reference desk.

Book Review Index


*As part of my run-up to an upcoming presentation on erotica and collection development in the library. Since 50 Shades of Grey has kicked off a lot of discussion in the library world, in terms of collection development and reader’s advisory, it makes sense to start here. Future reviews will evaluate potential readalikes for the trilogy.

Book Review: The Black Tower [2008]

In addition to Call of the Mild and The Passage, Louis Bayard's The Black Tower also came up in my first Reading Roulette draw. I was able to get the audiobook through the library, and was pleased to discover that it was narrated by my perennial favorite Simon Vance. The book is one that's been on my list for a long time, but I never would have gotten around to reading it if not for this project. I even learned a bit about French history!

The year is 1818. In Restoration France (only recently delivered back into the hands of the monarchy after Napoleon's rule), medical student Hector Carpentier is startled out of his routine by the appearance of one Vidocq, the criminal-turned-policeman who was responsible for creating the first detective bureau. Vidocq is investigating the death of a man who bore a well-concealed paper with "Dr. Carpentier" and Hector's address on it. Vidocq, brusque, crass, and possessing qualities similar to a terrier, is convinced that Hector must know something, and brings him along as he makes inquiries. As they trace the dead man's contacts, they uncover leads that stretch back to the days of the French Republic, when Hector's father was called to minister to the ailing dauphin, held captive in the Black Tower. Official reports claimed that the boy, Louis-Charles, died in 1795 at the age of ten.

They discover that there are certain people who believe the dauphin, who would have been Louis XVII if not for the overthrow of the monarchy during the French Revolution, is still alive, and there are several dead bodies to prove their earnestness. Vidocq and Hector find themselves with someone who might be the presumed-dead dauphin, but with no way to prove or disprove his identity. Questions abound: Is this Charles the real prince? How did he get out of the tower? If he did, who died in the tower in 1795? How was Hector's father involved? Throw in a buried journal, disguises, the guillotine, a duel, the nobility, Mesmer, and family secrets, and you've got a fun and dramatic mix of elements.

Grade: B

I enjoyed this both as historical fiction and as a good detective story, although this one ends with some questions still unanswered. One of the best parts of the book was Hector's slow maturation from predictable pushover to surprisingly unreliable narrator.

What to Read Next:

Although he and Vidocq are nothing alike (aside from their aptitude for clever disguises), The Black Tower made me want to read some Sherlock Holmes. Hector Carpentier plays a role that's very similar to Watson's at times.

Edgar Allan Poe's short story "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," which actually mentions Vidocq by name.

And again, I will recommend Josephine Tey's The Daughter of Time. Princes in a tower!

In terms of nonfiction, I'd recommend The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher by Kate Summerscale (audiobook also narrated by Simon Vance), which concerns a country house murder and a celebrated London detective in the 1860s.

Book Review Index

Book Review: Wolf Hall [2009]

Thomas Cromwell, widely known as a villain in the court of King Henry VIII, is made sympathetic by Hilary Mantel, who builds Wolf Hall exclusively around his experiences. The narrative is so closely tied to his perspective, in fact, that it is often difficult to determine which "he" is being referred to--I found that it was best to always assume Cromwell. The result is a character study of a self-made man, the son of an abusive blacksmith, who was at the center of some very important changes in law and religion.

Set primarily between 1527 and 1535, Wolf Hall traces Cromwell's path from his position as Cardinal Wolsey's right-hand man to his ascendancy at court as Henry VIII's Master Secretary. Although common-born, Cromwell functioned for many years as the calculating power behind the English throne. While the courtship and marriage of Henry and Anne Boleyn--which led to momentous changes (shepherded by Cromwell) in England's relationship with the Catholic church--is given its due, Mantel spends as much or more time on Cromwell's home life, his wards, and his relationships with businessmen and philosophers at home and abroad, focusing on the intricate workings of his busy existence. She doesn't disguise Cromwell's ambition, his love of wealth, and his belief that he can control everything, yet he still comes off sympathetically.

Conflict in the latter part of the book stems from Thomas More, the philosopher and former Lord Chancellor who refuses to support Henry's divorce of Katherine and marriage to Anne. Although Cromwell repeatedly tries to get More to swear to an oath to uphold the new order, he chooses instead to die for his faith. Mantel uses More, and many other examples, to drive home the seriousness of religious belief; in this world, it's a life and death matter. Over the course of the narrative, the church loses ground steadily, and those who had previously been branded "heretic" gain it. It's interesting to contemplate whether these changes would have taken place so rapidly had Henry not been so desperate.

Highly recommended, especially if you enjoy historical fiction. I listened to the audiobook as well as reading the paper copy, and the audio performance helped somewhat with the "'he,' which he does she mean?" problem.

Grade: A-

What to read after Wolf Hall:

• Bring up the Bodies, the 2012 sequel about the fall of Anne Boleyn, which also won a boatload of prizes.
• The Wives of Henry VIII, Antonia Fraser, a perennial favorite of mine.
• The Game of Kings, Dorothy Dunnett, is a similarly dense, but more swashbuckling character study of a fictional rogue Francis Lymond, set in 1547 Scotland. 
• The Daughter of Time, Josephine Tey--another revisionist history of a classic villain, this time Richard III.
• The Other Boleyn Girl, which featured Anne's sister Mary (also a character in Wolf Hall).
• The Swerve, which is not about the Tudors, but is also a book about the deadly seriousness of religion and great changes in the world.

The New Yorker on Thomas Cromwell and revisionist history.

Book Review Index

Meditation on My Ideal Book Format

It would be an unusual day if I didn't encounter a new article on ebooks, format wars, or a dire warning about the death of libraries, publishing, and print. As I've written here before, I prefer to read books on paper, but I do move around a lot and I want to be able to read everywhere all the time (yes, even the bathroom) so that I can squeeze as many books as possible into my life. I have been envisioning a comprehensive package that would allow me the tactile experience I love about print books, but also enable me to listen to same book in the car or read the ebook version in line at the grocery store, even if I haven't planned ahead to borrow the same book in three formats at the same time.

My first concept would probably be a nightmare to manufacture and would no doubt be immediately obsolete, but it made me giggle:

Drawn when I still had a car with a stick shift.

I have been idly contemplating this for a while, but what brought me back to it was a news item that Angry Robot will be giving away ebook versions of their items--at select stores--when customers purchase the print version. Why is this option not automatically made available for all newly published books? With both audio and electronic versions accessible (when they've been created) at the click of a button, having some kind of tiered pricing/package system for consumers like me should not be impossible.[1]

My pipe dream:

For a new hardback title, I would be happy to pay from $15-20 for the "base" book, which would be whatever edition I purchase first, whether print or electronic or audio. Let's say I bought a print version of Lois McMaster Bujold's upcoming book Captain Vorpatril's Alliance (hardback list price: $25.00), preordering it as I usually do through my local independent bookseller. On the eve of publication, I become so overwhelmed by desire to read the book that I pay an additional $5-$7 on top of the list price for the ebook version to be delivered immediately. I have to sleep sometime, though, and I don't finish the book before it's time to drive to work in the morning. I don't want to stop reading or call in sick, so I purchase the audio version for an additional $5-$7 on top of what I've already invested. I'm happy that I'll be picking up the print version, because I know this is a book I want to keep and re-read, but I'm willing to pay $10+ for a short-lived (format-wise) electronic and audio experience. I think it's pretty clear that my child will not be inheriting my ebooks.

Unlike a library, I don't have the money to spend on the print book and the ebook and the audiobook if they are all packaged and priced separately (around $75.00 minimum). Nor do I think that I should have to; they are the same intellectual property and the shelf-life of anything electronic is questionable at best. However, I do understand that artists should be compensated for their work, and I know that ebooks and audiobooks come with their own associated production costs. I am willing to contribute money to offset those costs and indicate that they are valuable to me.

In my vision, any of the three versions could serve as the "base" version . . . if I buy the audiobook at $15-20 and subsequently decide that I really want the print version as well, I should be able to "add it on" through my local bookstore or the publisher for a fractional cost.

I realize that I may a bit of an oddball, because I will not be buying anything from Amazon or a large retailer at a deep discount; I pretty much always pay list price unless I find something used. But I am very willing to pay that price to support both my favorite authors and local businesses, especially if I could have the format flexibility that would fit my peripatetic lifestyle. In the meantime, I'm happy patronizing the library and buying books that I've already read.

Am I completely insane? Obviously, the numbers would have to be adjusted for mass market books. I would love to have a discussion about this.

Meditation Index


[1] Entitled, internet-having, and willing to spend a chunk of cash on books.

Book Review: The Swerve: How the World Became Modern [2011]

In a remote European monastery in 1417, an Italian book-hunter named Poggio Bracciolini unearthed a rare manuscript from Roman times. It was a ninth-century copy of a much older work, De Rerum Natura ("On The Nature of Things") by the poet Lucretius (c. 99-50 BCE). Stephen Greenblatt uses this rediscovery as a springboard to explore the history of human inquiry over two thousand years. This is not a modest undertaking, but Greenblatt moves with ease from the personal details of Bracciolini's experience as an Italian humanist and apostolic secretary to larger set pieces such as the destruction of Alexandria's written treasures and the excavation of Herculaneum, entombed by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.

De Rerum Natura contains many deeply polarizing ideas, some of which are still contentious today--for example, the notion that the soul dies with the body and there is no afterlife, or the assertion that the pursuit of pleasure should be humankind's guiding principle. Greenblatt demonstrates that these ideas (along with more scientific but no less inflammatory concepts such as the existence of atoms and the idea that the universe was not centered on humanity) were not unprecedented, but grew out of the teachings of Epicurus, of whom Lucretius was a disciple. These concepts might be unsettling to our culture--still largely guided by precepts of self-denial, even if we do not adhere to them--but they were nothing short of incendiary upon their reintroduction into a Renaissance society dominated by the Catholic church. Many who embraced them after Bracciolini's discovery were persecuted as heretics.

Greenblatt leads a fascinating journey of discovery, tracing a set of ideas from antiquity to Thomas Jefferson.

Grade: A

I came to the conclusion that I was an atheist on my own, without consulting learned texts or reading up on the subject. I had some conversations with friends about faith, and was raised in a very faith-conscious place (Utah) even though my parents were not actively religious in any way. My mother had a very personal relationship with spirituality, which I never shared, and died as a Buddhist. But while listening to this book, the concepts being discussed spoke to some deep part of me, saying "You are not alone. Other people have come to these conclusions before you." It's not as if being an atheist is exactly embraced here and now in American culture. I can only imagine living in a time where thinking these thoughts, let alone voicing them, might lead to death. What a lifeline Lucretius's work must have represented to those who were almost completely isolated in their beliefs.

Random Thoughts:

I listened to the book's audio version, and (to my untrained ear) the narrator Edoardo Ballerini did a fantastic job of all those tongue-twisting Italian names.

This book was an excellent way to warm up to my 2012: Year of Nonfiction challenge, in which I am going to try to read as much nonfiction as fiction. I will talk more about it when I post about the statistics of my 2011 year in reading.

ETA: My paper copy finally came in, and it was worth it (as usual) to take a look at it even though I listened to the audio version. It has glossy photographs! And many pages of notes and bibliography at the back! And it has an index (*swoon*).

Dead Mother: No
Book Review Index

Book Review: Wake [2008]

On my way out of town for vacation with no audiobooks in the car, I cruised though the Young Adult department at my library and picked up the audio version of Wake, by Lisa McMann.

Janie Hannagan can't avoid being sucked into other people's dreams. It's especially problematic in study hall after lunch, where she is witness to an endless cycle of "naked in front of class" nightmares and sexual fantasies. Janie lives with her alcoholic mother and works as much as possible at a local nursing home, hoping to make enough money to go to college and escape. Cabel Strumheller is a seemingly slacker student who lives near Janie and generally keeps to himself, although Janie has established a tentative friendship with him. When an overnight class trip exposes Janie's secret to Cabe, their burgeoning romantic relationship takes a serious hit. Rumors swirl that Cabe has become a drug dealer even as Janie starts to gain control over her abilities, leading her into a situation she never could have predicted.

Grade: B-

Wake was an interesting "what-if" exercise for one kind of paranormal power, but I'm not sure I'll keep reading the series. The explanation for Cabe's strange behavior [SPOILER] is that he's working for the police to bust a local dealer, which was fairly unbelievable. I know, I was perfectly content to believe that someone might see other people's dreams, but I apparently draw the line at the idea of high school students going undercover. I can't tell from this story, for example, whether they used actual high school students to help with the bust. There's also this fascinating story from twenty years ago--and maybe that's the problem, as a plot device it feels a little weak and dated. Apparently there are academic articles about this stuff. ANYWAY TANGENT OVER.

In addition, I'm not sure what my problem is, but I don't like having to deal with "experimental" tenses when I read. Wake is written in a diary-like format with a third-person present tense that conveys an immediacy ("Janie shakes her head to clear it.") that consistently throws me out of the story. The only time I've ever liked a book that attempted something similar, it was the audio version of The Knife of Never Letting Go. The narrator was competent, if stilted, coming across as very young. All that aside, I would categorize this as a good young adult suspense, and give it to a patron who was looking for something scary but not gory.

Dead Mother: No
Book Review Index

Book Review: Acacia [2007]

I believe I picked up Acacia (first in a trilogy) because it was discussed on the SF Signal podcast, but don't hold me to that. Another thing it had going for it--unlike a lot of fantasy epics that have come out recently--was that it was available on audio CD through my library. Written by David Anthony Durham, Acacia is an incredibly dense foray into epic fantasy worthy of comparison to George R. R. Martin.

Acacia is the name of an island that functions the seat of a longstanding empire. What is largely unknown is that Acacian hegemony relies heavily on slavery and opiates to control and maintain the empire's vast ancestral holdings. Emperor Leodan Akaran, while portrayed as a basically good man, has inherited a deeply flawed system, as well as four children to raise upon the untimely death of his wife. When Leodan is struck down by an assassin from an enemy race of northmen known as the Mein, he sets in motion a plan to send his children into safety. Crown Prince Aliver and his younger siblings Mena and Dariel grow to adulthood in different corners of the Known World, while eldest sister Corinn is kept alive in captivity by the Mein as a future tool for ritual sacrifice to their undead ancestors. When the time comes to wrest control of the empire back from the Mein, things do not quite go as Aliver forsees in his zeal to bring freedom and justice to his inherited kingdom.

Grade: B+

I enjoyed the sometimes unexpected directions that Acacia took. The book had a lot more breadth of action and covered a longer time span than I had expected when I first decided to read it. Like Martin, Durham populates his book with many viewpoints from people other than the royal children, including many of the antagonists, a grizzled war veteran, the emperor's trusted adviser, and so on. There aren't as many women as I would like, unfortunately. However, one of Acacia's best features is a great deal of ethnic diversity among the cast. The action centers around an equatorial island, Acacia, and the royal children--each a major point of view character--are (gasp) not white. I can't even begin to tell you how refreshing this was.

Durham does an excellent job of capturing the coils of a political struggle as well as each individual's struggle for power. When the empire changes hands, its new Meinish ruler finds himself presented with the same obstacles and making similar compromises as his predecessor--much like an optimistic president who finds himself compromising his platform away when faced with the choice of getting nothing done or making difficult decisions. I am looking forward to seeing where Durham goes next after the book's fairly self-contained ending. Judging by book one, I'm guessing it's going to end badly for several characters.

Dead Mother: Yes
Book Review Index

Book Review: The Snowman [2010]

At some point this summer, The Snowman, a mystery/thriller originally published by Norwegian author Jo Nesbø in 2007, became a hot item. It was even featured on Good Morning America. The seventh book in an ongoing series featuring detective Harry Hole, The Snowman's popularity is understandable in a post-Girl With the Dragon Tattoo world intrigued by Scandinavian noir. I found it curious that the book being pushed is not the first in the series (and mentions events that presumably happened in earlier books), but it does have a suspenseful, self-contained story that doesn't require much background to appreciate. There is also something refreshing about spending time in the sweltering heat of July reading about snow and ice in Norway.

Norway has always been known as a land of peace and prosperity, and it's never been home to a serial killer . . . until now. Known as the Snowman, this person abducts and kills married women with children and leaves behind only a sinister sculpture in the snow. Until recently, the killings were spaced far enough apart that no one noticed a pattern, but two consecutive disappearances draw the attention of the Oslo police and hard-bitten detective Harry Hole. Harry is a recovering alcoholic who is constantly in trouble with his bosses; the love of his life left him because he couldn't separate his life from the job; and he's the only policeman in the country who's ever been involved in catching a serial killer. As the trail of clues leads Harry closer and closer to the killer, it becomes clear that this is a very personal game that the Snowman intends to play out between them.

Grade: B

If you're up for a thriller with some interesting twists and turns, this would be a good book to choose. If you're a fan of "damaged" protagonists who can't seem to get their lives together but somehow prevail, Harry Hole is definitely your man. Unfortunately, I wasn't really in the mood to read about a detective as deeply dysfunctional as Harry. There are times I favor gritty realism in my mysteries, and there are times I prefer to escape with a Lord Peter, and in this case there were too many scenes in which "seed" was running somewhere for me to really like The Snowman. The mystery wasn't extremely opaque--I had figured out most of the key points by halfway through--but its resolution was suspenseful enough that I was gripping my steering wheel and involuntarily slowed down to 55 miles an hour on the Mass Pike as the last disc played.

Random Thoughts:

I once visited Norway, but of course Nesbø's descriptions of Oslo's seedy underbelly didn't jive well with my memories. Still, it was interesting to read about Oslo, and Bergen, and even Voss (very briefly mentioned, but important to my family history as site of the Rokne family reunion!) and know that I had actually been to those places.

The audiobook was read by Robin Sachs, known to Buffy fans as Ethan Rayne, and he did a good job at pronunciation. If they don't cast Daniel Craig in the theoretical future movie of the book, they're crazy. Yes, I know he's already in the Girl movies, but Harry Hole is a much more likely character for his craggy face.

The book is threaded through with music, much of it American and recognizable to me. I guess this makes sense, since Nesbø is also a rock musician and songwriter. He also wrote about recent tragic events in Norway for the New York Times. 

Book Review Index
Dead mother: Multiple

Book Review: In the Woods [2007]

I've been intrigued by Irish author Tana French's The Likeness ever since I spotted it in reviews several years ago, but never had a good opportunity to pick it up. Then, a few weeks ago, Nancy Pearl said on Twitter: "Wish I could read Tana French's In the Woods again for the first time." In the Woods precedes The Likeness in French's fictional world, and Nancy Pearl's recommendation is more than enough for me, so I immediately requested it from my library on CD and checked out the book as well. This turned out to be a good thing, because I spent the next week listening to the CD in the car and then picking up where I had left off in the book, and vice versa--behavior that I reserve only for books that completely absorb my attention.

In the Woods is a first-person narrative from the perspective of Rob Ryan, a detective in Dublin's murder squad. Rob and his partner, Cassie Maddox, are young and confident, and their relationship has a special closeness rarely seen between platonic friends. Cassie is one of the few people who knows that Rob is actually Adam Ryan, one of three children who mysteriously disappeared in the Dublin subdivision of Knocknaree in the 1980s. Adam was the only child to reappear, his memory of events blank and shoes filled with blood that wasn't his own. When the book begins, another murder at Knocknaree brings Rob full circle on a case that involves a dead girl about the same age as he was when he disappeared. The results are devastating for Rob, his relationship with Cassie, and the family of the dead girl.

In the Woods is much more than a police procedural, it is a book steeped in nostalgia, both for Rob and Cassie's intense relationship, and for the more distant past--the friends that Rob has lost, and the experiences that he can never share with them. French evokes an elegant yearning with her prose; her lines are by turns wittily sarcastic (Rob's "voice") and deeply evocative, especially when she speaks of places:

It was like stumbling into the wreck of some great ancient city. The trees swooped higher than cathedral pillars; they wrestled for space, propped up great fallen trunks, leaned with the slope of the hill: oak, beech, ash, others I couldn't name. Long spears of light filtered, dim and sacred, through the arches of green. Swathes of ivy blurred the massive trunks, trailed in waterfalls from the branches, turned stumps into standing stones (272).

While his official presence on the case is a textbook example of conflict of interest, Rob's need to pursue the demons of his past is understandable, if misguided. He has spent the bulk of the time between the incident in the woods and the present distancing himself from the little boy he once was, and the emotional and psychological consequences of that action are unknown, even to him.

Grade: A

I definitely agree with Nancy Pearl: I would really like to read this book again for the first time. It was such a great balance of humor and suspense and nostalgia. I wish all books were as moving and intriguing.

Book Review Index
Dead Mother: No

Book Review: The Knife of Never Letting Go [2008]

I can't pinpoint it exactly, but I'm pretty sure I picked up The Knife of Never Letting Go (on audio) because Jen told me to. I am very suggestible these days, so blog posts that praise things I'm already interested in reading have a tendency to spur me into action. It's a very difficult book to write a quick summary of, and I guess there may be spoilers below, depending on your definition of the term.

Todd Hewitt is the only boy in Prentisstown, which, as far as he knows, is the last outpost of a planetary colony in which all the women and most of the men died from a mysterious disease caused by the world's original residents, the Spackle. The remaining men are afflicted with what's called "Noise," essentially broadcasting their thoughts and feelings for all to see. As Todd approaches manhood under the care of his foster parents Ben and Cillian, he copes as best he can with the rage and despair he sees in the Noise around him. When Todd discovers the unthinkable--a girl--at the outskirts of Prentisstown, his life changes immediately and irrevocably. Ben and Cillian send him off toward another settlement with his talking dog, a map and a long-prepared pack, and a book filled with his mother's words. The town's fearsome preacher, Aaron, launches a maniacal pursuit and nearly kills both Todd and the mysterious girl, Viola, who turns out to be the survivor of a crashed scout ship from another wave of colonizers. Viola and Todd have only each other to rely on as they try to make their way--through wilderness and unexpected settlements, through their vast differences and Todd's ignorance and countless close calls just ahead of Aaron's madness--toward some kind of safe haven.

This is the kind of book where so many bad things happen to the characters that the positive developments seem transparent or coincidental by comparison to the driving, merciless chase. It reminds me of The Hunger Games in the brutal, unapologetic way that good people kill and good people are killed. I say "as far as he knows" about Todd above because almost all of the truths that he takes for granted when the book begins are systematically stripped away as he and Viola flee from Aaron and the rest of the Prentisstown men. Todd  grows enormously as a character during the course of the book, and the growing pains are sometimes quite difficult to experience with him.

Grade: A-

I would recommend this book to fans of dystopian fiction, as well as fans of horror movies (I am looking at you, Amanda!) because of the way that Aaron keeps coming after Todd and Viola like a homicidal maniac, even after sustaining incredible damage. It's also a great study of the relationship between two young people, and how it changes under pressure and over time. I do not recommend it for people who don't like violence, especially against innocents; I was crying in the car on several occasions.

Random Thoughts:

In addition to being horrifically fascinating and an intriguing exercise in worldbuilding, I read the book as a sharp commentary on fundamentalism. The colonist group that included Todd's parents and foster parents were religious settlers, leaving in the face of persecution to find a new home where they could make a different way of life. There are settlements where this translates to a surprisingly female-ascendant system of government, and then there's Prentisstown. Todd's home is a place where learning has gradually been eradicated to the point where he doesn't even know how to read, probably because it makes it easier for Mayor Prentiss to perpetuate his version of history. The prevailing view of women, judging by later events, sees them as objects for raping and killing, and Aaron, the book's scariest character, is the Prentisstown man of God.

The book was written in a grinding first-person present tense that really lends itself both to the audio format and the fast pace of the action. Having picked up the print version, I see that I missed out on a few font tricks having to do with Noise, but it was nothing that wasn't capably translated in the audio, which I highly recommend.

I'm currently taking a break before tackling the second book. I actually have it in the car, ready to go, but the first one was so exhausting to read that I've been listening to other things instead. I'd like to continue the series, because it's highly recommended, but it may take me a while to work up to The Ask and The Answer. I need to take a break from books that I want to use the word "brutal" to describe.

Book Review Index
Dead Mother: Yes, many

Book Reviews: Pretties [2005] and Specials [2006]

While I was finishing up my Leviathan review I remembered once again that I've actually read the rest of Scott Westerfeld's Uglies series, but never gotten around to reviewing it. I hate leaving things like that unfinished, but bear in mind that it has been a few months and some of the insightful commentary I had planned probably ended up as a throwaway joke on Twitter instead.

When Pretties begins, Tally Youngblood has made the voluntary transformation from rebellious ugly to carefree pretty, theoretically so she could be a test case for the cure to the brain-altering lesions. However, Tally's prettification means that she doesn't really remember much about her love interest David or the Smoke; she's more concerned about going to all the bubbliest parties with her BFF Shay and their new, pretty friends, including the aloof Zane. However, when a face from the past leads Tally and Zane to the cure (which they divide and each take half of, in a completely ill-advised move), it's all they can do to stay bubbly and try to get themselves and the rest of the Crims out of the city and the sinister grip of Special Circumstances. When they get separated, Tally learns that the world beyond her city is even bigger than she had previously imagined.

There's a lot to say about Pretties, mostly because it's jam-packed with action. Westerfeld explores some hefty themes using Tally, Zane, and Shay, including environmentalism, self-injury, resistance to authority, and of course beauty standards and body modification. A few of the things I thought didn't work as well in Pretties were the dream sequences featuring the princess in the tower and the introduction of the "primitive" humans. Although the discovery of this Special Circumstances control group was illuminating, in that the belief that humans are violent as part of their "true nature" provides an important motivating factor that gives some plausibility to Special Circumstances' heretofore seemingly pointless evil, it seemed like a throwaway obstacle between Tally and the New Smoke. Coming as it does almost three-quarters of the way into the book, I feel like I really would have benefited from the opportunity to sit with the ideas a little bit longer. This feeling strengthened for me when I read Specials, where Andrew and the rest of his people are only marginally involved in the action. For example, they are very useful as a group that provides contrast; the fact that the primitives are much more gender-biased than Tally's society makes the reader realize again that there may be advantages to the way the city is organized and run. Tally's home isn't just a black and white place of oppression, despite the way that its citizens are stripped of their free will by the operation. Anyway, it was obviously a thought-provoking read for me.

Grade: B-

Specials picks up after Tally has been caught yet again by Special Circumstances and been surgically transformed into one of the Cutters, a self-injuring clique created by Shay in Pretties to ameliorate the effects of the operation that was later co-opted and special-ized by Dr. Cable. Led by Shay, the Cutters are a wilder band of specials who work to hunt down members of the New Smoke; however, when they come up against a newly militant David and his crew and one of their own is captured, things start to spin of control. Tally enjoys the fantastic powers that come along with her newly special body, but realizes that something isn't quite right as she arranges to get a sick Zane back out of the city in order to convince Dr. Cable that he should be made special as well. However, her plans are swept up in a much larger intrigue as the interplay between Shay, Zane, the New Smoke, Dr. Cable, and the "cured" city of Diego inevitably leads to one of the most frightening Rusty pastimes: war.

Grade: B

Westerfeld did a great job in Specials of expanding the universe he'd created in the first two books. I'm not sure what I expected going in, but it definitely wasn't the introduction of a new city and an inter-city war. It is similar to Uglies and Pretties in that, once again, Tally ends up outside the city, pursuing someone else's agenda, but this time she finally discovers her own agency. Tally has always seemed like a passive character to whom things are done, which makes her rather unlikeable and "why me?" at times, but that changed somewhat by the end of the series. The idea of Tally as a kind of maverick ranger, reminding the newly cured cities not to devour the wilderness as thoughtlessly as the Rusties did, is appealing.

Random Thoughts:

I don't know, am I the only one whose favorite character ended up being Dr. Cable? She was really mean and, I guess, probably evil, but also pretty funny ("Didn't I tell you to lie still? Or must you always destroy everything?") Maybe it was just that, by the end, I wasn't really that invested in Tally or David or Shay. Yeah, I could have done with a whole lot more Dr. Cable. I'm about five steps away from writing "an embittered and friendless Dr. Cable works to unseat the city's new government using only her brilliant, evil mind" fanfic.

Westerfeld has a talent for building slang vocabulary, such as "pretty-making" or "bubbly," and making it stick. I can still hear Carine Montbertrand's voice drawling in my head without too much work, particularly Shay's voice saying "Tally-wa," and I think this was definitely a case where I wouldn't have finished the series if it hadn't been available on audio, or if the narrator had been switched in midstream (which is why I haven't gone any farther than Airborn in Oppel's series, for example). So, kudos to Montbertrand for doing such a great job and making Westerfeld's world come alive for the listener. 


Book Review Index
Dead Mother: No

Book Review: Leviathan [2009]

The Library of Congress subject headings for Scott Westerfeld's alternate history novel Leviathan (first in a trilogy) are: 1. Science fiction. 2. Imaginary creatures--Fiction. 3. Princes--Fiction. 4. War--Fiction. 5. Genetic engineering--Fiction.These descriptors indicate, more than the general heading of "steampunk" that I think the book is labeled with, how focused the worldmaking actually is on genetically engineered living creatures. For example, the hydrogen-filled airship Leviathan itself is a genetically modified whale populated with symbiotic creatures, all coexisting in a delicate balance. The purpose of this geeky librarian subject heading exercise is to illustrate that Leviathan really wasn't what I expected (an airship adventure along the lines of Airborn, I guess), it was OMG ALAN CUMMING!

Ahem. What was I saying?

Leviathan is set in an alternate 1914, where world powers--the western Darwinists, who have discovered how to create living amalgams, including war machines, and the eastern Clankers, who prize strictly machine-based technology--are on the brink of war. As in our time, the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand is the crucial event that sparks international conflict, only in this case his death also has enormous repercussions for the Austro-Hungarian succession, in the form of his (secretly legitimized by the Pope) son Alek. There are a lot of people who apparently want to see Alek dead as a result, and his father's trusted retainers abscond with him in the night in a Stormwalker fighting machine. After dodging various forms of death, Alek and his crew intersect unexpectedly with a British airship, the Leviathan, on its way to Constantinople on a secret mission. The Leviathan is home to Deryn Sharp, a Scottish girl whose intense desire to join the British Air Service led her to adopt "Dylan," a brash male persona. When Alek rescues Deryn in the aftermath of a German attack, their fates become inextricably linked with the Leviathan and its mysterious cargo as they travel toward the Ottoman Empire.

Although it's not that clear from my synopsis, Alek and Deryn have alternating viewpoints throughout the book. Both are interesting, flawed characters who experience some growth throughout the course of the novel, although they have many miles to go. It almost doesn't matter, because everything is brilliantly, perfectly narrated by Alan Cumming, who should be a professional actor or something! He is THAT GOOD. It also helps to have the Scottish accents read by someone who is actually Scottish, for once.

Grade: A- (for the audio version with ALAN CUMMING, probably a B otherwise)

Random Thoughts:

I would definitely recommend this book to Airborn fans, as well as to Naomi Novik fans for the alternate history of Europe/warfare angle. I really appreciated that Westerfeld included a section in the back about what was really true in the book, because otherwise I would have headed straight to the internet/Encyclopedia to try to figure it out.

Despite losing the ALAN CUMMING factor, if you are forced to read the book on paper, it does have a ton of lovely illustrations. As usual, I recommend experiencing it both ways, if not at the exact same time.

The back of the book says that "Deryn is a girl disguised as a guy in the British Air Service. She must fight for her cause--and protect her secret--at all costs." Really, jacket copy writers, that's the best you could come up with?

When I was searching for Deryn's last name, I ran across Leviathan fanfic. Quite a bit, actually. At least it was only rated K through Teen.

Book Review Index
Dead Mother: Yes

Book Review: Before I Fall [2010]

The "repeating day" theme has been done in various ways over the years. Groundhog Day is probably the most well-known time loop story, but I've also seen a Buffy episode ("Life Serial"), an X-Files episode ("Monday"), a Xena episode ("Been There, Done That"), and a TV movie called 12:01, which I recorded and re-watched with strange regularity in my teens. These are just a drop in the bucket of popular culture's fascination with the theme, so Lauren Oliver has a lot of expectations to live up to when she tackles the time loop phenomenon in Before I Fall.

Samantha Kingston is a Mean Girl--an ultrapopular high school senior who accepts her privileges without appreciating them ("It's just what happens") and looks down on everyone else. Sitting in the senior section of the cafeteria is "better than getting a straight view of the short-bus brigade dribbling their applesauce. No offense." Sam ignores her little sister, scorns her parents, shudders at the thought that she and loser Kent McFuller used to be friends, and has carefully excised remnants of her past life that might be disdained by her best friend, Lindsay. Along with Lindsay, Elody, and Ally, Sam coasts through a life of parties and BFF bonding: "When we get out of high school, we'll look back and know we did everything right, that we kissed the cutest boys and went to the best parties, got in just enough trouble, listened to our music too loud, smoked too many cigarettes, and drank too much and laughed too much and listened too little, or not at all."

Into this teen girl utopia is thrown a serious wrench in the form of a car accident that claims Sam's life after a day that culminates in a party at Kent's house and a dangerous winter storm. When she wakes up the next (same) day after a dream about falling, Sam slowly begins to realize that the fact that she died isn't just a dream, and that it's up to her to figure out the purpose of her repeating day and take some action. But will Sam find redemption for herself? Will she be able to help, rather than hurt, the girl she's taken pleasure in bullying?

Grade: A

I found Before I Fall to be refreshingly thought-provoking. It's not just the day that has consequences for the accident; it's Sam's entire life. Oliver does a good job of making Sam slowly aware of the details of other people's perception, taking the time (more than 400 pages) to make the payoff really worthwhile. Sometimes there are corrections Sam can make because of her new awareness, and sometimes it's just not possible. Her treatment of Juliet and Kent, her distance from her family, and her scorn for the "freaks" at her school are all more than a one-day phenomenon. In addition, the well fleshed-out secondary characters and physical setting lend the atmosphere a surprising weight. I enjoyed the fact that Sam's transformation from Mean Girl to sympathetic character wasn't complete; she's still a teenage girl with faults and weaknesses.

Random Thoughts:

The audiobook narrator really sold the teen girl voices for me, from the acerbic Lindsay to the more airheaded Elody. Sarah Drew, I salute you!


I don't think that I cared as much about the romantic angle--will Sam lose her virginity to her asshole jock boyfriend?--as I was supposed to. I'm not sure I bought her complete switch from Rob to Kent, even with the whole death thing making social suicide less meaningful.

I do love a good time loop story.

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