Eschewed Obfuscation

The Lions of Al-Rassan
by Guy Gavriel Kay
527 pages (paperback)
Genre: Fiction/Fantasy/Historical

My second reread of the year, for Yuletide this time--I was assigned to write a full-length in the fandom, and I ended up tossing out an eleventh-hour drabble as well. It is, I think, one of those books that improves every time you read it. I think I kind of understand the blue wine and Ammar's poem for Badir; at least, I understand it more than I did at the beginning of the year. Also, I am so requesting Ramiro/Ines for Yuletide next year; their introductory scene remains one of my favorites, right up there with the climax combat. I've also new appreciation for irony and character foils, Kay's themes of love and faith--maybe I'll post the critical analysis essay I wrote on it later, after sticky plagiarism paranoia passes.

Finally: poetry makes me happy. I want to buy A Song for Arbonne now, which IIRC involves music, also happy-making.

I'm behind on book reviews, so this is the last of 2008 and coincidentally the 70th book.

The Glass Castle
by Jeannette Walls
288 pages (hardcover)
Genre: Nonfiction/Memoir

I have unusual issues with the book. I did not sympathize with Jeannette--in fact, my sympathy steadily decreased as the story progressed--due to, I believe, certain personal circumstances and beliefs that are very much not mainstream. My reaction is atypical and despite it, I would recommend this book to most people.

Jeannette Walls, one of four children of Rex and Rose Mary Walls, grew up in a household rich in love and neglect, poor in finances and responsibility. If that description sounds contradictory, it is; yet it is also an accurate description of Jeannette's unusual childhood. I could go on about this heart-warming, inspirational tale of horrific poverty and incredible courage--but while I can see how those accolades could be true, they were emphatically false for this reader.

Walls did offer me a new perspective into poverty, specifically homelessness and parental neglect. I've experienced poverty but with hard-working parents who always managed to provide; in that respect, Walls educated me and I'm glad for that education. However. Oh, the however. As most people know by now, I am atheist--openly and outspokenly atheist. This colors my reading of one scene in particular, on pages 256-7, when Jeannette is confronted by a favorite Barnard professor. Jeannette offers a controversial reasoning for homelessness, one justified by her own experience; yet when Professor Fuches demands, "What do you know about the lives of the underprivileged? What do you know about the hardships and obstacles that the underclass faces?", Jeannette falls back and simply replies, "You have a point." She has a point, but she doesn't have the guts to argue it. She is afraid of the social stigma of her impoverished background and homeless parents. Certainly I acknowledge this stigma, but I also condemn her for selfishness and cowardice. I feel very strongly that if you support a cause--as Jeannette demonstrated by going halfway and saying, "Sometimes, I think, it's neither"--then you should advocate it when given the opportunity. If someone makes a racist remark, I believe it is almost a moral obligation for you to speak out if you consider yourself anti-racist. I would apply this philosophy to all areas of life, with the common-sense exception for emotionally traumatizing experiences. And although I can't directly empathize with Jeannette's hardships, I can empathize with the social stigma that she faces. As a female Asian atheist--or even as an ally to those three causes--I have encountered similar situations and I have acted differently. Yes, it's immensely difficult to speak up against cultural assumptions, norms, and expectations. But Jeannette never acknowledges that she has work to do in that respect, that it is weak to give in the way she does. Walls overcomes her fear by writing this memoir, of course, but I do not critique Walls--I critique Jeannette, the character that Walls presents. If I as a high school student can endure equal or greater social stigma (and if you don't think being an outspoken atheist carries a stigma, go read the part of this article that discusses Presidential polling), then it's not unreasonable to expect college-junior Jeannette to do the same, and to judge her when she fails.

Furthermore, in an irrational gut reaction, I felt that Jeannette was, well, spineless. Extraordinarily resilent, but never resistant. For the same reason that most people will connect with Walls' story, I experienced a complete disconnect. I honestly cannot understand why Jeannette never lost faith in her father until the very end. My own faith would have been long since shattered. Hell, even with a loving and relatively normal childhood, I don't have that kind of faith in my parents. I don't think I will ever, nor that I should have that kind of faith in anyone but myself. Perhaps that's an atheistic viewpoint, now that I consider it. I believe that faith must be earned, and if the trust of faith is broken, then you should stop having faith.

And now that I've finished tearing apart Wall's memoir--which is a well-written, poignant tale of "unconditional love" in a seriously messed-up family--I would still recommend it to anyone (i.e. almost everyone) who disagrees with my opinion as stated above. If you understand such unconditional faith, if you aren't absurdly passionate about advocacy, then you won't have my issues with the tale and you'll probably love it.

The Hunger Games
by Suzanne Collins
374 pages
Genre: Fiction/YA/SF

What authors seek, more than anything else, is word of mouth advertising. And for Suzanne Collins, the word of mouth campaign has succeeded spectacularly. Long before I read The Hunger Games, I had repeatedly read high-praise reviews of the novel on my flist. I am fond of dystopias--one of my favorite books is Margaret Atwood's Handmaid's Tale—but also suspicious of the young adult genre, particularly young adult science fiction as spearheaded by Scott Westerfeld, whose books I enjoy but do not really appreciate in-depth. So I approached The Hunger Games with a certain amount of trepidation. Katniss sounded like just your typical stubborn, free-spirited protagonist (supposedly a "strong female"), and the plot synopsis was interesting but not astoundingly original.

In the broken remains of North America, the glorious Capitol rules over 12 colonies, called Districts--there was once a 13th colony, but it rebelled and was utterly destroyed for such defiance. In continuing punishment, each year the Capitol stages the Hunger Games--one boy and one girl ("tributes") from each district, to fight to the death in a controlled arena, captured every second by cameras, as the ultimate reality television. Katniss Everdeen from the 12th and poorest district, a resourceful and hardened girl fighting every day to keep her family fed, finds herself one of the 74th Tributes when she volunteers in place of her younger sister Primrose. The rest, of course, is Collins's book.

By the end of the first page, I was smiling at Katniss's dear, frail little sister Prim. By the seventh page, I had fallen in love with Gale. And I couldn't stop reading; the characters' plight, set against the stark dystopic backdrop, had knotted clear fishing wire around my heart and would not stop reeling me in. I made internal excuses, of course--just one more page, one more chapter, oh, maybe two--but I did not, and still do not, possess the willpower to stop reading a truly good book.

And this is a good book. Certainly the best young adult science fiction tale I've read this year, perhaps ever, given the relative scarcity of that subgenre. Westerfeld, for all his popularity and fans, has never managed to evoke such a reaction from this reader. I connected with Katniss from the start, but Collins showed me Peeta's virtues and ultimately managed to balance the love triangle. As a writer myself, I understand the difficulty of such a balance. At first I thought that I could predict the plot easily enough, but Collins surprised me at several points, particularly the end. The love triangle is patently obvious early on, of course. Though I fall into the "young adult" age category, I usually prefer reading more complex adult literature; however, I am naïve enough to empathize fully with Katniss's confusion. I know exactly what it feels like to not be sure whether you like, rather than just like, someone--much less two people at once! I don't envy Katniss's dilemma but I understand it perfectly.

The cliffhanger ending left me wordless. I could only close the book, close my eyes, and exhale, "Oh, my." Katniss's indecision right up until the last page is absolute series setup. It's a gorgeous cliffhanger, enough closure to end a novel but not enough to end readers' emotional attachment. The plot may be superficially concluded, but the characters—the most important emotional threads—are still at the introduction.

Ironically, the cover (an elegant black affair in itself) proclaims Collins as an NYT bestselling author, but I have never heard of her. In this case, word of mouth has far prevailed. I've already enthusiastically endorsed the book to several friends, and consider this review high praise as well.

The Scarlet Letter
by Nathaniel Hawthorne
341 pages (hardcover)
Genre: Fiction/Literary/Historical

A mandatory read, and given its exalted position in the Western literary canon, I don't regret having read this; but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Hawthorne's style is way too ostentatious. I appreciate the literary depth but the actual story could have been much better told in a different (concise) style. Even if one refuses to sacrifice imagery, certain word choices are just ridiculous.

What, you don't know already know the plot of The Scarlet Letter? Hester Prynne, a young Puritan wife sent to the New World whose husband is presumed lost at sea, commits adultery and gives birth to a daughter she names Pearl. The main action takes place when Hester's husband (going under the name Roger Chillingworth) arrives in the colony on the same day she is enduring her decreed punishment--to stand upon the village scaffold for three hours at noon, and to wear a scarlet letter A upon her breast for the rest of her life. The town's favorite young minister, Arthur Dimmesdale, is also involved...

Is this good literature? Sure. Is this a good novel? I would argue no. For one, the plot is suspiciously coincidental and sometimes frustratingly implausible. How does Hester just happen to be walking in the town at midnight when Dimmesdale decides to go stand on the scaffold? Having decided to give in to temptation and leave the colony, why does Dimmesdale still not have the courage to tell Chillingworth to bugger off? As a reader, the plot left me unsatisfied.

Of course, on a literary level there is much to contemplate. I am in turns appreciative of and disturbed at Hawthorne's underlying message, whatever it may be. He obviously championed truth and justice, as idealized/idolized/symbolized in Pearl; but did he truly condemn Hester and Dimmesdale's relationship, to the point that they would never meet in Heaven? The couple is buried apart in the end, their ashes unmixed, but in a Puritan cemetery--and Hawthorne shows little support for the Puritan definition of morality. And if both Hester and Dimmesdale go to Heaven, where each will be eternally happy, then shouldn't they have to be together, in order to fulfill said requirement of eternal happiness? A part of me wishes that Hawthorne were secretly a progressive who wanted to show that adultery in certain circumstances isn't always EVIL and SINFUL; but the conventional lit mind points out all of Pearl's "punishments" aimed at Hester and Dimmesdale.

In the end, I remain ambivalent save for one point: Hawthorne needed to study the perils of purple prose. Enough said.

Ever
by Gail Carson Levine
244 pages (hardcover)
Genre: Fiction/YA/Fantasy

From the cover blurb, I had great hope for Levine's newest release. Despite their younger core audience, I loved Ella Enchanted and The Two Princesses of Bamarre. And the premise of Ever excited me so much: Kezi is a talented weaver and dancer raised in Hyte, a country following a monogamous religion worshipping Admat. Olus is the youngest Akkan god yearning for mortal companionship. They fall in love and must overcome the ultimate sacrifice--death--to be together. Plus I had heard hints of faith being a major theme, with Kezi becoming agnostic at the end. I'm not so sure about that last part, alas. Ever is frustratingly simplistic in both construction and content.

To be fair, Levine doesn't hide the book's intent or style. On the first page, Kezi's style is set forth--simple, plain, concise. This can work, and maybe it works for other readers, for me it became irritating because I wanted more depth and less choppy skimming over the surface. I enjoyed the religious themes, as expected, but not as much as I expected. I enjoyed the fairytale/divine myth format, but I was unsatisfied by the resolution; Kezi didn't give up or lose anything permanent and she lacks a sense of true agency throughout the book. It's a quick and competent read--however, I expected much more from Levine, especially with this amazing premise. Essentially, I wish this had been an older YA or adult novel instead of younger YA skewing to middle-grade. That's not Levine's fault but she definitely could have done better even within genre and age restraints.

ETA: And as meganbmoore mentions, it's narrated in first-person present tense, if that's an issue. I tend to slip into the narrative easily and don't notice the POV unless it's really jarring, so I forgot to note it.

The Orphan's Tales: In the Night Garden
by Cathrynne M. Valente
483 pages (trade paperback)
Genre: Fiction/Fantasy

This book took me SO LONG to finish. I had heard continual buzz throughout the F/SF community and therefore had high expectations; when my friend finally lent it to me, I tried to read it but found the plot confusing and Valente's style distracting. She is quite fond of similes.

Because of its reputation, however, I felt that In the Night Garden deserved at least a complete reading. The beginning was too detached between stories, but as I persevered, I could appreciate the reoccuring characters and unexpected connections. Even the prose became less annoying, although I still prefer a different style of lyricality--Valente's is a tad too poetic without enough narrative grounding (I didn't much like her poetry either, at least in Apocrypha).

So what happens in the novel? ...I have no freaking idea. I loved the religious, sexual, and racial diversity. I loved the cover design. I loved the meta-structure, how stories are irregularly interleaved rather than perfectly nested (my favorite was Al-a-Nur); yay for convolution! But it's not a book easily summarized, only described. Having finished it, finally, I can understand why there has been so much excitement over the work. I'm not exactly the right audience and certainly not Valente's biggest fan, but I will definitely be picking up In the Cities of Coin and Spice (and not only because of the cliffhanger ending). The frame story captured my interest through sheer persistence; I sympathize more with Dinarzad than the boy. Essentially, an elfish girl lives in the Sultan's garden and tells stories to one of the Sultan's many sons--yet this simple description cannot possibly capture the essence of the tale as a whole. The narrative has an ethereal fairy-tale quality, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't for me. Nonetheless, The Orphan's Tales is the best fairy tale novel I have read, in this regard trumping even Ellen Kushner's Thomas the Rhymer (though overall I liked Kushner's better than Valente's).

Final verdict: so confusing but equally so fascinating. Do give Valente at least half the book to prove herself--the scales tipped at around 1/3 for me.

Admissions Confidential: An Insider's Account of the Elite College Selection Process
by Rachel Toor
256 pages (hardcover)
Genre: Nonfiction/Education/College

At this point, I find the narrative nonfiction college guides much, much more interesting than the comprehensive guidebook types. Admissions Confidential is a strong work of narrative nonfiction, although it was unnecessary to begin every single chapter with a personal non-college-related anecdote. I, unlike Toor, am not a runner, will never be a runner, and do not comprehend the runner mindset.

Being relatively well-read and knowledgeable in the book's particular topic, I didn't actually learn substantial information from this; but what I did find new, though outdated, was valuable. However, I prefer Steinberg's writing style in The Gatekeepers--Toor's writing is weirdly stilted at times.

Wyvernhail
by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes
174 pages (hardcover)
Genre: Fiction/Fantasy/YA

Atwater-Rhodes's career has pretty much fizzled out, which is regrettable. The Keisha'ra series is strong despite its immature prose and poorly retained character development across books. The first two, Hawksong and Snakecharm, tell Danica and Zane's compelling romance. Falcondance focuses on Nicias, son of two previous minor characters; from then on, Wolfcry and now Wyvernhail centered around the Wyvern's Court. Atwater-Rhodes does a good job of developing minor characters into interesting protagonists, but in the process she loses depth from previous protagonists. Zane and Danica are aged, it's true, but I was sad to see them so useless in this final volume.

Also (spoilers ensuing), I didn't agree with Hai's final choice at the end. Ahnmik is portrayed almost too well; I urged Hai to take Nicias and live out the rest of their lives with the falcons, because I wasn't convinced of her bond to the serpiente.

A good series and breezy YA; I want to read some falcon fanfiction, but this was a good place to end the canon.

The Early Admissions Game: Joining the Elite
by Christopher Avery, Andrew Fairbanks, and Richard Zeckhauser
377 pages (hardcover)
Genre: Nonfiction/Education/College

Statistics galore--a little overwhelming, but good to have hard numbers. I really like the gold star/independent clearinghouse idea for indicating preference. In fact, I don't know why it hasn't already been implemented. Hmm, not much else to say--outdated but still relevant? Certainly a "seminal text" in the college admissions genre.


College Unranked: Ending the College Admissions Frenzy
by Lloyd Thacker (ed.)
205 pages (trade paperback)
Genre: Nonfiction/Education/College

A compilation of philosophical essays lamenting the commercialization and consumerization of college; however, they mostly repeat the same point. Quite disappointing because the only new knowledge I gained was other books to follow up on. I think it would be more insightful and revealing to a college newbie, though.

Breaking Dawn
by Stephenie Meyer
756 pages (hardcover)
Genre: Fiction/Fantasy/YA

What you've heard thus far about Breaking Dawn? All true. I won't bother to repeat the criticisms. Meyer's prose is clunky but bearably so; in this book particularly, she invents way too many minor characters; and she doesn't understand the fundamentals of plot theory. The ending is a huge deus ex machina, a perfectly happy ending with no price paid--but if you've been keeping up with the news, you know all that already. As did I. So why do I continue to read Meyer?

Well, I'm a masochist, and a completist. I thought Twilight wasn't half-bad, especially for a first novel; but the series becomes steadily worse and builds to a climactic let-down in Breaking Dawn. I'm also disturbed by the conservative undertones--abstinence until marriage, Bella's vehemence against abortion, the whole destiny vs. free will debate regarding werewolf imprints, and most of all, the central idea that motherhood will change your entire life, meaning, and personality. That happens for many people, I'm sure, (hopefully including kate_nepveu!) but Meyer presents it as a fact of life. (Of course, these are my personal political views intruding as reader bias.)

Just a few days ago, I was reading David Wolverton's daily email column on writing, and his topic was religion in genre fiction (no link or quote, alas--but you should subscribe! Say "Kick me" in the email), particularly fantasy. He talked about Christian roots and good vs. evil, all of which is true for epic fantasy (which I generally dislike for these same qualities, but that's a different issue). His point was that commercially successful fantasy writers avoid sex and obscenity in their fantasy, because otherwise the conservative religious readers will get offended. Magic-fearing evangelists notwithstanding, Twilight is a very conservative work. And it has been hugely successful. Exceptions come to mind--George R.R. Martin and Jacqueline Carey, plus many others who are popular with experienced/jaded fantasy readership--but I do think that Dave's rule is true, albeit "selling out." I would never have thought of it because I skipped from Diana Wynne Jones and Tamora Pierce straight to Guy Gavriel Kay, et. al., but my reading tastes are unusual for my age group. Things to ponder.