Wednesday, February 29, 2012

The Candy Shop War


Recently, I’ve become a big fan of Brandon Mull. This sort of surprised me because I’m really not that into fantasy. But, I read Beyonders around Christmas and loved it, and then I tried Fablehaven and liked it quite a bit. Most recently, I read The Candy Shop War, and I am quite excited to tell you not only why I enjoyed it, but why I have developed a lot of respect for Mull as an author.

This book takes the old adage "don't take candy from strangers" and turns it into a full-blown, high-risk adventure. A group of four friends start working to earn candy at the candy shop that has just opened. For each task they complete, they receive a treat. At first, they are washing windows for fudge, but eventually the tasked they are asked to complete become more sinister, like stealing artifacts and robbing graves. As the tasks become more risky, the treats become more intriguing: candy that makes you float, candy that changes your appearance, and even candy that allows you to travel through time.

Brandon Mull has a real talent for building suspense. I find it very impressive that I can sit down to read a middle grade novel with young characters and be completely engaged in the action and be anxious for the characters. This is the kind of book that had me continually yelling out “What?!” or “No!” because, ohmygoodness, something crazy was just always happening. And it was awesome.

As I've read more of Mull's books, I've come to really admire the way he crafts the language of his novels. Even though he is writing for younger kids, he doesn't shy away from using a slightly more advanced vocabulary. At the teacher book club meeting for Beyonders, a lot of teachers said that had bothered them. When they asked him about it, Mull explained that he works to find the best word to create the image he sees for his readers, but that he doesn’t really try for challenging vocabulary and doesn’t try to avoid it either. Brandon Mull writes pretty exclusively for young readers, and, obviously, he respects those readers and their right to read good books. A lot of young adult and middle grade authors write down to kids, and that’s really not conducive to writing something worth reading.

The Candy Shop War gets 4 stars. While it is meant for younger audiences, it is a fun read that will keep readers of all ages interested right to the end.

Kristen's #5: Daughter of Smoke and Bone



I had several people recommend this book to me within the space of a few weeks. And with very good reason. Daughter of Smoke and Bone was the only YA book to make Amazon's Top 10 of 2011, and it was the #1 YA book of 2011.

I'll preface this by saying I don't read or enjoy most YA lit. I read YA when I was myself a young adult and I liked it well enough then. Daughter of Smoke and Bone is far superior to pretty much any piece of YA lit I've ever read. Good writing is just plain good writing, regardless of the relative age of the intended audience.

Karou, the main protagonist, is a young woman with aquamarine hair that grows that way naturally who attends art school in Prague. The very substance of her being is a mystery. Karou puzzles her friends by going off on unexplained "errands" with practically no notice at all, disappearing sometimes for several days at a time. She has hamsas tattooed into her palms that have been there as long as she can remember.

The writing is luminous. The author, Laini Taylor (who as you can see sports some psychedelic locks herself) clearly has a sense for crafting turns of phrase. Her metaphors are complex and intricate. It's the first young adult novel I've had to actually look up the meaning of words, but yet the big words don't come off as trying too hard as they do in the Vampmeyer books.

The main conflict could come off as cliché (angles vs. demons), but it doesn't. And Karou is everything that Bella of Vampmeyer fame is not. Karou is self-assured, strong, trained in martial arts, witty, talented, independent, and beautiful. Well, I suppose Bella is supposed to be fabulously beautiful given that her name is Beautiful Swan and all but whatevs. (Sorry, I really didn't intend to turn this into a Twilight lampoon. But really. Karou is the anti-Bella. And it's awesome).

Daughter of Smoke and Bone is part fantasy and part mythology. Reality shifts as portals to other realities open. Oh, it's just good.

Be warned that it's the first book of a trilogy, and the followup books are still in the works (tentative release of book two in fall of 2012). I was glad that I knew that before I read the book so I wasn't shaking my fists at the sky with how the book ends. It's fabulous, but it's definitely a cliffhanger ending that leaves a great deal unresolved. I await the next installment with eagerness.

I don't really have much to say except that you absolutely should read it. I unreservedly recommend this even if you don't typically like YA lit or books with fantasy/sci-fi elements. The writing is that good.

I give this five stars without even batting an eye.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

The Girl Who series: Alli's Books 1-3

Well, hello there. It's nearly March and I'm just making my debut. Allow me to explain my late arrival. I wanted to finish this entire series before writing a review, as I imagined a comprehensive review would do more good than individual reviews.

This is one of those series that I wouldn't recommend reading out of order, nor did I find either the second or third books to be worth reading without reading the first. Don't misunderstand me, the second and third books were worth reading, but not without the background of the first book (if for whatever reason you were inclined to read them out of order).

*A cautionary note to the feint of heart. Or to the sensitive. These books are filled to capacity with the F word. Not an occasional PG-13 F-word. I'm talking multiple times a page, nearly every page. If you're like me, you can drown it out because for some reason you find it less abrasive than having to hear it that much. But others may not be able to do so, and if that is the case, these books are not for you.

*These books also contain numerous explicit, non-explicit, heterosexual, homosexual, and/or violent sexual references. A few of span several pages. If you do choose to read them but want to skip the three particularly bad scenes, let me know and I can provide page references. The worst of them are in the first book.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
As is the norm with series, the first book was definitely my favorite. Set in Sweden, it's about Michael Blomkvist, a journalist for Millennium magazine unjustly sentenced to serve a prison sentence for libel, who is hired by a wealthy businessman to investigate the 30-year-old murder/disappearance case of his niece. Along the way, Michael enlists a strange computer genius, Lisbeth Salander (the girl with dragon tattoo) to help solve the mystery, and to help him clear his name.

Larsson knows how to write a serious page-turner. He tells bits and pieces of stories 2-3 pages at a time, leaving each storyline unfinished so you have to keep reading to find out what happens. It's frustrating and invigorating. His characters are complex and imperfect. He begs the reader to question the judicial system, the government, and humanity in general.

The translator is a genius. It is one thing to be a good writer in your native tongue. It is another thing entirely to translate a well-written book into another language and maintain the voice and style.

Does this book deserve all the hype? Probably. That's not to say I don't have any qualms with the book. Larsson is, at times, obsessively detailed. I could have whittled out several pages here and there. It's also unnecessarily sexual and crude. I could've done with a few hundred less f-words and all the sexual references. There's also a lot of financial talk in the first few chapters that nearly put me to sleep multiple times. Additionally, reading this book, I realized how little Swedish I know. I had a hard time keeping track of a lot of people, as Larsson uses a lot of last names--and a lot of similar last names at that--in reference to characters.

All in all, though, a satisfying read. I'd give it four stars.

The Girl who Played with Fire & The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest
My least favorite of the series. However, Larsson hooked me from the prologue. This book was a continued storyline of our friends Michael and Lisbeth, but this book delves into Lisbeth's story--which was starkly absent from the first book. She takes the lead role, and we get to know more about what makes her tick. Lisbeth begins the book abroad, enjoying spoils earned in the last book, and returns to Sweden to find her face plastered across every newspaper and television accused of three gruesome murders. There is conspiracy running in the deepest parts of government that no one even knows exist, centered on a very dark person from Lisbeth's past.

Be warned that the second book contains several lesbian references.

If you read the second book, you pretty much have to read the third one. Larsson ends the previous installment with a character on the brink of death, so to not read the third book would be impossible. I don't really know how to describe it without giving away some important parts of the second book. There were parts of this book that made my heart race with anticipation. It was a culmination of the first two books: mystery-thriller plus the inner workings of the two main characters, complete with scandal, suspense, and lots of f-words.

I'd give the third book 4 stars and the second book 3 stars.

Man, it was a let-down to finish this intense series. It left me feeling like my life was so boring. A good reason to start another fantastic book.

Monday, February 27, 2012

#9: The Lady's Slipper

I'm going to keep this short. This was book was a disappointment. I put it on my list after a lady in my church book club suggested it as one of three options for the next month's read. We ended up choosing a different book as a group, but her description of this one piqued my interest.

Basically, this book is set in England in the 1600s. The cast of characters includes, but is not limited to, Alice, a young wife and plant enthusiast who recently lost her little sister, whom she cared for more as her daughter; Richard, a former soldier turned Quaker on whose land a rare orchid, the Lady's Slipper, is found; Sir Geoffrey Fisk, a truly awful man; and Ella Appleby, Alice's servant and, as it turns out, a skanky homewrecker.

When Alice learns of the Lady's Slipper growing on Richard's land, she tries to get him to let her take it and use it to grow more. Richard believes it should be left where God intended, so Alice steals it. In doing so, she inadvertently sets off a chain of events that kind of ruins her life. I doubt any of you are going to read this, so I'll just go ahead and say that Alice ends up in jail, framed for a murder that Geoffrey Fisk actually committed, and in the end she and Richard escape to the New England colonies. Along the way she learns a lot about Richard's Quaker beliefs. Oh, and Ella seduces Alice's husband away and plays a large role in the framing of Alice for murder. Wah wah wah.

Why didn't I like it when it has such an incredibly awesome story? Ha. Well, first, I was not expecting there to be any romantic element to the plot, and I have to say I didn't like the love story. It was weird and unconvincing. I also could have done well without the gratuitous sex scenes involving Thomas and Ella, which did nothing to further the story except make me hate both of them. I found none of the other characters very sympathetic, except for maybe Richard, but that's neither here nor there. In short, I didn't "like" any of them, and completely despised several. I expected the story involving the orchid to be compelling, but it, too, fell flat for me. I hate to say it, but I wish I hadn't wasted my time on this one.

I'm giving this book one star, mainly because I did keep reading it, and because there are an awful lot of good ratings for it on Goodreads, so I know there are people out there who would like it.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

The Color of Water

The Color of Water by James McBride calls itself a black man's tribute to his white mother. And I guess it is. Ruth McBride was a Jewish woman who fled an abusive father and terrible home life and ended up in Harlem. But Ruth is never really culturally white or Jewish or black. She's just Ruth. And I guess that's part of the charm.

Her son, James writes this tribute to her in an alternating biographical/autobiographical style. I won't say much more about it other than it was interesting and frequently moving.

3 stars--not my normal cuppa tea, but I'm glad I read it.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Guilty Secret

I was once told a joke which featured a new hire in an English Department at a university. This young teacher was getting to know the other faculty members when they introduced him to a game that they liked to play amongst themselves. The object of this game was for each participant to reveal a work of literature that he or she had never read-- the winner being the one whose unread work produced the most shock. They went around the circle, each person contributing some title, when the new hire's turn was reached. He thought for a moment and then revealed that he had never read Hamlet. The others were indeed shocked, and pronounced him the winner of the game-- but not without telling him his services would no longer be needed.

I thought it was a funny joke-- although I myself have never read Hamlet either. In all my courses that included Shakespeare, apparently each teacher thought that Hamlet surely would be covered in another course. Strange, really. I should probably get on that.

I started with this joke/story to prepare the way for me to announce my eighth read, Animal Farm, by George Orwell. Believe it or not, this was not a re-read. While most of the people I know were required to read this book at some point during high school, I guess this one fell into the same pile as Hamlet.

Additionally, since it is such a well known and oft-reviewed book, I don't think it's necessary for me to write a full review of it, at least plot- and summary-wise. As far as my opinion of it goes, I actually quite enjoyed it, and I think that's probably primarily because I didn't read it until now. Had I been forced to slog through it as a sophomore and write some inane five paragraph essay on it, I probably would have hated it. As it is, I give it three stars.

I also have to mention that the version I read of it was a larger print, illustrated version. Ralph Steadman provided some fantastic drawings to go along with the story, and I really enjoyed reading this non-traditional way. If you are like me and have managed to make it to your mid-late twenties without reading this one, you should definitely give it a shot-- and if you do, see if you can't find this version.



Sunday, February 12, 2012

The Professor and the Madman

Note: I finally finished reading Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day! Yes, the book I was supposed to have read for my January book club meeting. :) However late I am to that party, that was my sixth read and it was truly delightful. I endorse Elizabeth's review of that novel, found here.

My 7th book of 2012 is The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary, by Simon Winchester. I give it four stars. 

I don't think it's any secret that I am a big fan of the OED. It is one of my life's goals to someday own it. (I think I will wait until I have a majestic and impressive library in which to display the unabridged set of volumes.) So naturally, I was very interested in reading this book. Simon Winchester did a fantastic job of creating a book worth reading, going into the back stories of some very interesting characters, particularly James Murray and WC Minor. 

The compilation of the OED began in 1857. Clearly one of the most ambitious projects ever undertaken, it was headed by an overseeing committee led by Professor James Murray. As the committee went about collecting definitions for use in the dictionary, Murray discovered that one man, WC Minor, had submitted more than 10,000. Interestingly enough, Minor, an American Civil War veteran, also happened to be an inmate at an asylum for the criminally insane. Curioser and curioser, indeed.

I have to say, after reading such a detailed account of all that went into the making of the OED, I am honestly surprised that it was finished. I am surprised that people agreed to participate in the first place and that it actually came about. What an undertaking! I loved reading about how they went about gathering volunteer readers to compile words and usage quotations from all sorts of books. I would have loved to be involved in that.

I also loved that this is a book one would do well to read with a dictionary by one's side. Here's just a smattering of some of the words you will come across: hugger-mugger, plaudit, encomium, decussated, redoubtable, amanuenses, genuflective, diktats, manque, desultory. Beautiful. I found myself wondering why so many of English's fantastic words are so rarely used these days. People just go for the easiest ones, I guess.

All in all, I really enjoyed this book. I have to say, though, if I weren't so interested in the OED and words in general, I may not have finished. Fortunately for us all, I am and I did. If you wouldn't put yourself in either category, you may want to pass. 

Oh, I should also note that this is not a read for the easily offended or squeamish. I won't go into specifics, but WC Minor was a very troubled soul. His life was not a very happy one, and certain events at the end of it were quite disturbing. I think it is no exaggeration to say that his work contributing to the OED brought him some of the only happy times in his life-- and I am just one of the many individuals who have benefited from that work.  



Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Kristen's 4th Book: Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell




It's a rare pleasure to read a book as imaginative and well-written as Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell.

I knew nearly nothing about the book going in, as I received it as a Christmas present. My husband chose it from a list of reads recommended by one of his favorite sports bloggers, Keith Law. Incidentally, Mr. Law is a thoughtful and interesting writer who reads a ton. His list of the top 100 novels he has read is worthy of a perusal. There's quite a range. Additionally, his review of this particular novel is great.

Anyway. The book is a hefty tome, or rather would have been had I received a physical copy. In paperback, it's more than 1,000 pages. It took me the better part of three weeks to finish. Published in 2004, it was written by British author Susanna Clarke and is her debut novel.

I hesitate to give too much background, as part of the pleasure of the read is in the discovery of the world Clarke has created. As many of my favorite books are *cough Jasper Fforde cough*, Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell is set in England in a parallel reality. In Clarke's English, magic exists and English magicians practice magic. No dragons and alchemy, but a rich history of faeries and faery kings and practice of magic that shapes the history of England.

The events of the novel take place in the early part of the 19th century, and the tone/style of the novel is decidedly Victorian, with some gothic/Austenian overtones. In some respects, it reads just like a Dickensian chronicle of the history of English magic. Indeed, this book is written at least partially in the manner of a history book, complete with footnotes. While footnotes as a general prospect can be tiresome, I urge you to take the time to read them in this book. They are some of the cleverest, most inventive, and sometimes hilarious parts of the book. It was easy on my Kindle edition of the book because I could just pop to and fro.

As I said before, it's a long book. Parts of it felt a bit ponderous to me, though unlike a Dickens novel (as an aside, happy birthday, Mr. Dickens!) there's a relatively tight cast of characters for its 1,000 pages. It took me awhile to get through the first third of the book, which is still fun and creative but not nearly as fast-paced as the later parts of the novel. Some of that is perhaps a reflection of its focus on the distinguished Mr. Norrell. (Dear self, don't give too much away). And as it turns out, it takes a fair amount of exposition to establish a parallel universe wherein magic has been celebrated and practiced since the beginning of time (and before then, if one happens to be a faerie).

A dark humor interweaves the pages that very much appealed to me. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell is never outright frightening, but I did experience a bit of the unease that the characters experienced when encountering faeries, who as it turns out are no Disney Tinkerbells. Nor are they Cornish pixies, but that's another review.

In my opinion, it's a book that's worth the investment, particularly for those with any interest in Victorian Britain (though there's also some time spent in war-torn Spain!) and Victorian literature. This certainly includes most of the bloggers here. The writing is fabulous, and it builds up to a singularly satisfying finish.

I vacillated on whether to give Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell four or five stars until I had read the last 50 or so pages. I liked how all the little end bits were resolved so well that the ending bumped it into the five star threshold.

And now that the time investment is over, I'm left feeling a little forlorn and just a tad lonely. Books like this one usually leave me feeling that way.