Review: Dark Goddess by Sarwat Chadda

Last January I read Devil's Kiss and really liked it - while it glossed over some things I wanted more explanation on, I really enjoyed it as an excellent work of urban fantasy with a kick ass protagonist who just happened to be bi-racial. In Dark Goddess, Billi is back and tougher than ever - this time tackling Amazon werewolves and Baba Yaga.

It's so cool, guys.

While Billi is still mourning the loss of her best friend Kay, the supernatural creatures refuse to take a break to let her properly grieve. Last time Billi faced the Angel of Death - now she's up against the polenitsy, a pack of werewolves descended from the Amazons. They are searching for the Spring Child, an Oracle like Kay was, that they plan to sacrifice to their goddess, the infamous Baba Yaga. It's a mission that will uproot Billi from her familiar home in London and take her and her fellow Templars to Moscow and the wilds of Russia to team up with the Bogatyrs, the Templars' Russian counterparts, led by Ivan, the handsome descendant of the mysterious Anastasia Romanov. As the full moon approaches, Billi and Ivan will have to overcome their instinctive distrust of others to fight together for the common good.

One thing I really like about the supernatural creatures Chadda creates: they are the bad guys. Sure there are some shades of gray, but the polenitsy are not "kissing werewolves." No one is going to fall in love with these creatures because they are lean, mean, fighting machines, who are more likely to eat you than kiss you, if you were dumb enough to get that close. Additionally, Chadda puts some great twists on traditional folklore - there's the Amazon werewolf connection, which is awesome because Amazons are awesome, and then whole mythos of Baba Yaga. This isn't the scary little witch who runs around in a house on chicken legs; she wields unbelievable power as the physical embodiment of Russia herself. Scary. And awesome, like the werewolves that worship her. With a bunch of women in the roles of both adversary and ally, Dark Goddess has no problem passing the Bechdel Test. Yay!

The action is absolutely nonstop, which some can see as a good thing, but actually ended up undermining a bit of Chadda's worldbuilding for me. It's established early on that werewolves are bad news. As in, two fully-trained Templars could take on one werewolf and probably win - but their chances of survival decrease exponentially if a second werewolf is added to the equation. Yet Billi repeatedly tackles the werewolves, almost always with the odds against her, and she rarely even gets a full night's sleep, let alone a chance to really heal. Since she keeps coming out on top, it takes away the feeling that she's ever really in danger, thus dramatically decreasing the tension.

If you haven't read Devil's Kiss yet, I highly recommend you read that before Dark Goddess. Chadda throws us right into the action in chapter one and spends little to no time rehashing people or events from Devil's Kiss - so even if you have read the first book, you might want to re-read it as a refresher. These are the sort of fantasy books I want to see more of - women who know how to handle themselves and know what they want primarily, and the action is more important than the romance. And in the case of Billi SanGreal, you get all that, plus a bi-racial  heroine!

Review: Another Pan by Daniel & Dina Nayeri

I knew going in that this was a sequel of sorts to Another Faust, which I totally missed out on. However, I was interested enough in the Peter Pan aspect to want to give it a shot. Considering that the jacket makes no mention that this is part of a series, I figured I was in the clear. And in a way, I was: only one character returns here from Another Faust, and she seems to stand up well enough on her own. However, when it came to actually enjoying the book...

Another Pan is set at the exclusive Marlowe school in Manhattan, where largely discredited Egyptologist Professor Darling is a teacher who has just scored a great exhibit of Ancient Egyptian artifacts on loan from the British Museum. The artifacts relate to his life's work: uncovering a Death goddess that was an alternative to Anubis, and discovering the truth behind the legends in the Book of Gates - legends that are supposed to hold the key to immortality.

Roped into helping their father set up the exhibit, 16 year old Wendy and 13 year old John would rather be elsewhere - Wendy with her jock boyfriend and John developing his street cred. But when a charismatic new RA by the name of Peter shows up, who has an obsession of his own with the ancient book, Wendy and John eagerly join his quest. Wendy is drawn to the dangerous Peter, despite her boyfriend and her father's disapproval. John craves acceptance, and longs to be seen by Peter as being worthy of joining his Lost Boys gang. As the underworld begins to take hold of Marlowe, and a conniving assistant from the British Museum also closes in on the truth about the books, the two Darlings and Peter are in a race to complete their quest first - to find the secrets to immortality before death catches up with them, permanently.

Lurking at the periphery of most of the story is the new, decrepit school nurse, who was apparently the governess in Another Faust. It's clear that part of her story has been told elsewhere, but the lack of detail didn't seem to impede the story.

What did impede the story? The pacing and the characters. This was a slow, slow book. I wanted to give up several times, but forced myself to keep going, mostly because I have a huge weakness for Ancient Egypt (even though it seems the stories of the Book of Gates are totally new with no relation to myths that are currently known) and also because many of the nods back to Peter Pan were quite clever. The pacing felt off, and the overall writing felt stilted. The third person point of view wasn't used naturally, and there were weird line breaks within the chapters; instead of using a break to indicate a change in place or time, sometimes they would be used to denote a switch in POV character - but other times would be used traditionally. It pulled me out of the story every time.

Most of the characters were extremely flat. Simon Grin was practically a cartoon villain - I kept waiting for him to start muttering how he would have gotten away with it if it weren't for those meddling kids. Wendy and John were easily manipulated, though a lot more time was invested in John and his motivations so he was slightly more sympathetic. Really the most intriguing character for me was Peter, and that was probably me trying to fit this slick and handsome young adult into the story of the perpetual child I know.

In any re-telling, I love finding the ties back to the original story, and here many of them were quite clever. There's the obvious Barrie Auditorium (which still gets cleverness points, because Peter Pan was originally a play), but then little things like Peter always hanging out by windows, or checking out his shadow. His Lost Boys gang is also constantly plying Peter with happy thoughts (often things relating to youth or staying young) whenever he starts to get grumpy, though the rationale behind it is never explained.

But ultimately, this was a frustrating read. There was just enough intrigue with the myths and the quest that kept me turning the page, but I was always thinking ahead, hoping the book would finally end so I could move on to something else. While part of me is curious about what connections this had to the previous book, I don't want to have to wade through a similarly tedious book to get there, so I think this is my first and only encounter with the "Another" series.

Review: The Jumbee by Pamela Keyes

Found via: Forever Young Adult

Phantom of the Opera is far from my favorite musical - even among Andrew Lloyd Webber shows it doesn't rank very high (my favorite is totally Cats and I feel no shame for this. Well, not much). Even so, I think as a theatre geek I'm contractually obligated to at least pay attention to a book that re-tells the story of the classic musical (and, of course, novel). The Jumbee takes the basic premise of Phantom, but instead of 19th century Paris opera, it's contemporary Caribbean high school theater. Keyes deftly weaves the themes of the original into the new story, with just enough twists to keep even those of us who know Phantom guessing.

Following the tragic death of her father, famed Shakespearean actor Alan Legard, Esti and her mother relocate from Oregon to her father's enclave on the island of Cariba. Both women are hoping that a change of scenery will help them move on; Esti in particular is hoping to rekindle her passion for acting by getting the lead in the prestigious high school's production of Romeo & Juliet.

Cariba is an island steeped deeply in tradition and superstition. When a student dies within days of Esti moving to the island, tongues start to wag. When Esti begins rehearsing in the dark theater, alone, rumors begin that she's communicating with a jumbee - a ghost who is often malevolent. When Esti begins hearing a voice in the dark with her, she's not sure what to think, either. The voice - Alan - claims he was a student of her father's. But why did her father never mention this brilliantly talented student with the sexy voice? And if he's truly there, why does he always insist that the lights must remain on? Esti isn't particularly superstitious, but if there's anywhere ghost stories could be true, it would be on the island of Cariba.

Just as Esti is sure she's falling in love with the mysterious Alan, her childhood friend and resident playboy, Rafe, returns to the island from LA. Rafe and Esti immediately resume their friendship, with the possibility of something more always bubbling beneath the surface, but Esti is torn between the two boys. One with whom she has a lifetime of history, the other who has reawakened her passion for the stage. With her other relationships and responsibilities faltering, Esti must discover who Alan truly is, and make a fateful choice.

There are plenty of obvious parallels here between The Jumbee and Phantom of the Opera: the love triangle, a mysterious teacher, a diva who gets every coveted role even when a more talented ingenue appears. However, that doesn't necessarily make the novel predictable. For example, even though I know Erik turns out to be a real man rather than a ghost, Alan's corporealness (or lack thereof) goes a long time without being explicitly confirmed or denied.

Because it's not clear who - or what - Alan is, there are some parts of his and Esti's relationship that made me uncomfortable, but could plausibly be explained by jumbee magic - or just an extremely accomplished manipulator. They don't have a healthy relationship at times, but it's not quite Bella/Edward levels of creepiness.

Speaking of creepy, Keyes does a fabulous job of creating the atmosphere of the fictional Cariba. The school has a sordid past as a plantation with a particularly sadistic slave owner, giving rise to the stories of the jumbees and their various hauntings. The island is in equal parts a lush tropical paradise and the setting of a horror film.

Keyes also integrates the Shakespeare into the text well. Enough happens off stage that the scenes that show the rehearsals or performances for Romeo & Juliet don't feel boring or overdone.

The story is thoroughly enjoyable with some great scenes and set pieces, but the actual writing felt awkward and clunky at times, which holds me back from recommending this whole heartedly. Fans of Phantom should enjoy it, and the unique setting and diverse cast are also major bonus points, but the actual writing style kept me at a bit of a distance.

In other news: Yesterday was the official start of the 2011 Comment Challenge hosted by MotherReader. The challenge lasts for 3 weeks and the goal is to leave 100 comments on other book blogs in order to encourage the habit of commenting. I did this last year and had a blast "meeting" new people and finding new blogs. Welcome new readers who found me through the challenge, and I encourage everyone else to join in the fun!

Review: The Wager by Donna Jo Napoli

Donna Jo Napoli's fairy/folk tale re-tellings have been favorites of mine since middle school. It's been ages since I actually read one, but even though I didn't know this particular folk tale, based on Napoli's past work, I decided to give it a chance.

Don Giovanni is rich and handsome, with a reputation for throwing lavish parties and being an excellent lover. All that changes the night that a tidal waves sweeps through, washing away everything Don Giovanni owned.

Now a penniless beggar, Don Giovanni is still determined to hold on to some of his dignity. He bathes and washes his clothes in the river. He uses proper table manners whenever he can get a bowl of food.

And then one day a man appears with a hell of an offer. He will give Don Giovanni a purse that will give him endless wealth - in return, all Don Giovanni must do is refrain from bathing or changing his clothes for three years, three months and three days. If Don Giovanni succeeds, he gets to keep the purse. If he fails, the Devil gets his soul.

Despite his misgivings of literally making a deal with the Devil, Don Giovanni agrees. After all, he's already a beggar and suffered the indignities of that lifestyle, surely having all the money he could want will make up for any faults in his appearance? And so Don Giovanni begins his task, determined to best the Devil, no matter the cost.

I actually read this at the beginning of July, but it has taken me awhile to figure out how to articulate my feelings about the book. I knew I liked it - not loved it, but certainly liked it - but the devil (haha, pun unintended) was in figuring out why. But I think I've finally got it.

This book takes its time. We follow Don Giovanni for over three years, first seeing something of his lavish lifestyle, then seeing it fall apart as he is forced to be a beggar and try to work for the first time, then the ordeal with the Devil. Because of the long time period covered, we get to see Don Giovanni's character change ever so slowly, making for an extremely interesting character arc that really doesn't become obvious until near the end when Don Giovanni is acting wildly different from the beginning. Because we get to watch him nearly every step of the way, some of the changes aren't obvious at first, so it's a real treat to watch the changes and then think back over what has led to such a dramatic evolution. Excellent, deft writing here!

Napoli's descriptions of Don Giovanni's descent into filth are absolutely disgusting - and I meant that in the most complimentary way possible! US society is obsessed with cleanliness, so in some ways it's hard to imagine what it means to truly be filthy, but Napoli brings the horrors to light. Don't read this while eating, unless you enjoy vivid descriptions of pustules and sores and the accompanying flies. Blech. I think I'm grossing myself out again.

This is far from an action packed story, but as the end of the wager approached, I found myself getting more and more tense. Don Giovanni has come so far - will he make it? If he makes it, will he still be sane at the end of it all? Will he truly change for the better, or is this a temporary improvement brought out by horrific circumstances? For such a quiet story, I was surprised by how invested I was getting in the outcome - and how even the end of a morality play could be surprising and satisfying.

Review: Thief Eyes by Janni Lee Simner

Found via: Publisher's Weekly 4/5




I read Simner's Bones of Faerie last December and found it to be a really interesting take on both the fantasy and post-apocalyptic genres. Simner's back again already, dealing once again with fantasy elements, this time tackling Icelandic sagas with a thoroughly modern heroine.

One year after her mother disappeared, Haley has joined her geologist father in Iceland, hoping to retrace her mother's steps and bring her home. What she never expected were those steps to draw her into the magical entanglements of her ancestors and the complicated rules of Icelandic myths!

The magic began with Hallgerd, a woman forced into an unhappy marriage who casts a spell that affects all of her female descendants - including Haley and her mother. In her quest to escape the magical realm and return to the real world, Haley encounters Muninn and Freki - a talking raven and fox, respectively, who offer their help, though always at a price. Also accompanying her is Ari, a handsome Icelandic boy, the son of her father's colleague in Iceland. As the magic sinks deeper into both Haley and Ari, the question is no longer whether they can find Haley's mother, but if they can save themselves from also suffering her fate.

Although this is only the second Simner novel I've read, I'm already detecting a theme in her novels. For one thing, she's got mother abandonment issues, as both this and Bones of Faerie focus on a girl trying to find her mother after a magical intervention (though this time Haley didn't know magic was going to be involved at the beginning).

The novel could be a little frustrating as sometimes Haley's reactions would be very cyclical. Isn't the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Haley would often make virtually the same mistake multiple times.

I enjoyed the exploration of the Icelandic myths - there are a lot of similarities with Norse mythology which I have a passing familiarity with, but several key differences as well. Simner explains in an author's note that she drew much of the story from Njáls saga, but since the events took place 1000 years ago and weren't written until the 13th century, it's impossible to know what's historical and what's fictional while also leaving plenty of room for Simner to add her own interpretations. She also explains why Freki, traditionally depicted as a wolf, appears as a fox in this story.

Review: Voices of Dragons by Carrie Vaughn

Found via: Publisher's Weekly 2/22

As a kid, I loved, loved, loved the movie Pete's Dragon. And yet I don't read a lot of dragon stories. Probably because none will ever be as cool as Eliot. This continues to hold true in Voices of Dragons, but I won't hold that against the book (Eliot leaves quite large footprints to fill).

Movies tell us that after the nukes went off in WWII, Godzilla rose from the depths to go on his roaring rampage of revenge on Tokyo. In Voices of Dragons, replace "Godzilla" with dragons and "Tokyo" with everywhere, and you have the basic origin story of why there are dragons flying over 21st century Montana. When the dragons realized the humanity had progressed far beyond the medieval weaponry of the last time they'd lived together, and that now any battles would be a war of attrition between dragons and airplanes, the dragons made a truce with the humans, agreeing to remain within their designated territories, and never to bother humans again.

Fast forward roughly 60 years to the 21st century and the Montana town that is closest to the border with Dragon. Kay Wyatt is used to spending time on her own, since her father is the town sheriff and her mother works with Border Enforcement, monitoring the border to ensure no dragons (or humans) violate the treaty. On one of Kay's many hiking trips she takes alone, one misstep sends her plummeting into the river that marks the border. When she's rescued, she finds herself on the wrong side of the border, facing a giant dragon - her rescuer. Artegal is essentially just a teenager himself and has a fascination with humans - not as food, but wanting to learn English. Kay is terrified, after a lifetime of stories about the viciousness of dragons, but she and Artegal begin a tentative friendship, she teaching him English while he shares his knowledge of how humans and dragons used to live in harmony.

When the border is breeched again - this time by US military aircraft - tensions begin to mount again. Dragon drills at school increase, as does surveillance on both sides of the border. Both Kay and Artegal are convinced that their friendship and knowledge of ancient dragon lore is all that can stop all-out war from breaking out again.

Usually I don't pay too much attention to what point of view a story is written in - lots of YA books are being written from first person these days, but how much of a difference would it really make if some of those stories switched to third? Voices of Dragons is a third person novel, which makes it stick out a bit in the first place, but for the first time I totally felt it was the wrong perspective for the story. When Kay actually has the chance to fly by riding on Artegal's back, it should be an absolutely thrilling scene and we should be able to almost feel her fear and exhilaration. While all the right descriptions are there, telling this story in third person added a distance that definitely didn't need to be there.

But POV aside, this was a fun adventure story. I loved watching Artegal's and Kay's relationship build from wariness to affection. The ending clearly sets the stage for a sequel, though unlike other genre series we've seen lately, there's no release date set and the book hasn't even been started, so who knows how long we'll have to wait to see where Kay's and Artegal's adventures take them next.

Review: Guardian of the Dead by Karen Healey

This book pretty much has everything I love in it: a culturally diverse cast, myths and legends (with major bonus points because they are Māori myths, which I knew nothing about prior to reading this), casual talk of feminism, passes the Bechdel test, and no creepy co-dependent/stalker-y romance. Karen Healey may be my new hero.

When her mom's cancer goes into remission, Ellie's parents go on an around-the-world vacation, leaving Ellie in a strict private boarding school. Ellie is slow to make friends, but quickly bonds with Kevin - who she develops a crush on despite his asexual identity. After Kevin convinces her to put her tae kwon do skills to work choreographing epic fights for the local college's Māori-tinged production of Midsummer Night's Dream (there I go, reading another book with Midsummer in it), she quickly starts making friends inside and out of the play: Iris the underclassman director (no senior wanted to take on a play close to exams) and Mark, a quiet day student at her boarding school who is dreamy and handsome - and seems to be able to literally hypnotize her. Kevin also makes new friends - namely the mysterious Reka, playing the fairy queen Titania, who freaks Ellie out. Probably because her pupils have a habit of disappearing.

But Ellie has a few tricks up her sleeve as well, even if she doesn't know it at first. As Mark repeatedly tries to use his mystical powers to keep Ellie safe, she finds ways to break, or at least weaken, his spells - proving that she has some latent magical ability herself. And once this latent ability is revealed, she suddenly becomes a much more inviting target for the Eyeslasher Killer - a serial killer targeting those who have connections to magic and mysticism and takes their eyes as trophies.

Ellie is skeptical of her newfound abilities, but can't deny the evidence right in front of her. And after she and Mark learn of a plot to magically inspire an epic disaster, Ellie knows she has to at least try to stop it - or die trying.

Okay, there's so much to love here that I'm going to resort to bullet points, because otherwise this post will never be finished:

• Diverse cast: Ellie is pretty much the only white, European-descendant character in the whole book. Kevin and Mark have Māori ancestry (though descriptions of them do read as more "white" than anything else), Ellie's favorite teacher is Eritrean (and has lived all around the world), Iris is Asian, and even descriptions of random people in crowd scenes are written to ensure we know that Ellie's world is incredibly diverse. No token ethnic folks here.
  
• Māori myths: I knew nothing of Māori mythology before picking up this book. An authors note at the end explains what is based on true mythology and what Healey made up or adapted for dramatic purposes, which just piques my interest more!
  
• Casual feminism: Feminism pops up all over the place here. Myths are called out as sexist for lack of female participants or blatant female subjugation. And here is something that just shocked me: a relationship is described as rape because one party wasn't fully aware of the identity of the other party. Magical person seduces human person without revealing the magical identity and Iris flat out calls that rape, since the human didn't consent to having sex with a magical person. This is the sort of conversation I never see outside of hardcore feminist arenas, so I was shocked that it just appeared in the middle of my urban fantasy YA book. Thus officially making Karen Healey my hero.
  
• Passes the Bechdel Test: Ellie does spend most of her time hanging out with dudes, but there are two important female supporting characters: Iris and Professor Garibaldi, the Eritrean teacher. Ellie has numerous conversations with them that are not about boys (and it should be noted that neither character is white!)
  
• Non-creepy romance: Well, okay, there is creepy romance in this book, but Ellie isn't part of it. When Mark starts using his magical skills on her, Ellie instantly forgets whatever conversation they had had, but because of her latent abilities she has a lingering sensation that despite how handsome and nice he seems, there's something weird about Mark, and rather than continuing to moon over him, she gets pissed until she gets some answers. The creepy relationship is between Reka and Kevin, where for once it's the woman who is the creepy stalker type and the boy who is going along with it (not that I'm condoning creepy relationships of any kind). However, everyone aside from Kevin recognizes there's something wrong and work to get to the bottom of it.
  
• One more that I forgot at the top of this post: not just heterosexuals here! As mentioned above, before Reka shows up, Kevin identifies as asexual. Which is kind of awesome, because when was the last time you saw an asexual character in any book? It's one of the ways Ellie and Iris are sure that something weird is going on with Reka, because even though they both have a crush on Kevin they recognize that he is serious about his asexual identity - they don't think it's a phase or a lie so that he could get close to hot girls. Ellie's sister off in Australia is gay, which is part of the reason she's at boarding school while her parents are away - the implication is they were worried about Ellie catching "the gay" if she stayed with her sister for a year.
  

There's only one downside here: despite the feminism, Ellie has some major body image issues going on. Did we really need to be constantly reminded that she hates her body? Any time she has to change clothes she starts going off on how much she hates the rolls of fat around her belly. Considering how physically active she is in other parts of the book, it seems unlikely that she's actually significantly overweight. It was really disappointing to see that brought up multiple times for absolutely no purpose.

Okay, I'm putting an end to my list-making here. I think I've covered all of the main awesome points. To summarize: this is an awesome fantasy book with excellent progressive elements and I highly recommend it!

Review: The Unnameables by Ellen Booraem

Found via: BBYA 2010 nominations

Stories about conformity are always intriguing to me - probably because I'm such a non-conformist myself! The idea of places where conformity is strictly enforced is simultaneously terrifying and fascinating, so The Unnameables is one of those books that appears to be right up my alley.

Medford Runyuin is an outsider in the community of Island. The citizens of Island live by the creed of the Book, and one of the most important rules is "If it hath a Use, give it a Name. Let the Name match the Use. If it hath no Use, it needeth no Name and wilt do thee no Harm." As such, people's names match their uses - Carvers carve Useful tools, Weavers weave Useful clothes. Even plants and animals are renamed to their uses - milk comes from Greater Horned Milk Creatures and beets have been renamed Crimson Boiling Roots. Medford Runyuin is an outsider, an orphan who washed up on the shores of Island tied to a plank, and stubborn town elders and young bullies alike won't let Medford forget that his name proclaims no Use.

At fourteen, children pass through Transition, when they officially take on their Useful name and begin plying a trade as adults in the community. The Town Council, still distrustful of Medford's outside status, denies him the name Carver (he can try again next year), but he will still take on the work of a Carver, while his best friend Prudy, raised by Carpenter parents and had always wanted to be one herself, is instead forced into the scholarly ranks as a Learned.

Medford applies himself as well as he can to his charge as a Carver, but he has a terrible secret - he carves Unnameables. From the wood he is supposed to use to create something Useful, he will instead see a squirrel, a bird, or even a person, and be compelled to bring it out of the wood. Medford knows if anyone discovers his carvings, he will be banished, for "The Unnameable is another thing entire. Take care, or thou shalt be gone."

Four months after Transition, however, Medford has more troubles than simply hiding his fanciful carvings. For someone that simply shouldn't exist has washed up in his front yard - a Goatman. He has the legs of a goat (lesser horned milk creature), the torso of a man, and great horns tipped with golden balls. And a somewhat unrefined ability to summon the wind. Medford knows that if the Town Council can't accept a boy with the name Runyuin, the Goatman is surely doomed. Yet Medford is moved by the Goatman's story, and tries to hide him from prying eyes - but how do you hide a half-goat/half-man in such an insular community?

Yet even as Medford's secrets are spilling out before his adoptive community, long-buried secrets of Island's past are emerging. If Medford has any hope of keeping himself and his new friend safe, he's going to have to use all of his skills, and those of his friends, to uncover parts of the past that some on Island would rather remained buried forever.

The description of Island was giving me major flashbacks to The Giver. Island is much less dystopian (there's no Releasing, no apparent restrictions on family size, etc), but the assignment of jobs (sometimes against the child's will) and banishment, sometimes at the will of only one person, definitely felt familiar from The Giver. Was it just me?

I will say the Goatman plot kind of threw me - for quite awhile I wasn't sure what the point of his character was, and even after finishing I'm not entirely satisfied with how he worked out. He comes across as a bit of a Deus ex Machina a few times, though he is often quite entertaining. His introduction threw off the pacing of the book for awhile - within a few pages suddenly two days had passed and all I could figure Medford and the Goatman had done was drink tea (really, they drink a lot of tea in this book).

Ultimately this was a nice, satisfying book - I can't find too much to critique but at the same time, but I can't find a lot of great things to say about it either. A nice book to while away some time, but not something to go out of your way to find.

Review: Lavinia by Ursula K. LeGuin

I have a weakness for re-tellings of famous stories from the points of view of different characters. Wicked remains one of my perpetual favorite books in part for that reason. While I'm not familiar (at all) with The Aeneid, I hoped that this re-telling, from the point of view of a woman who is mentioned in the epic, but never speaks, would capture my imagination.

Short version of this review: it didn't.

Longer version: Lavinia has grown up as the daughter of a peaceful king. She takes pleasure in the simple tasks of her home, including helping her father with religious rituals and visiting the sacred oracle at Albunea. But as Lavinia grows into a woman, her beauty, and the power a man would gain by marrying the daughter of a great king, begin to attract attention from a wide variety of suitors. While her mother pushes her to marry Turnus, Lavinia - ever pious - insists she follow the words of a prophecy she and her father learned at Albunea: Lavinia must marry a foreigner.

That foreigner is Aeneus, a Trojan hero who has a prophecy of his own to fulfill. The jealousies of men to lead to war, as they so often do. While Aeneus is successful in fulfilling his end in the prophecy, Lavinia watches in fear as he inches ever closer to fulfilling the tragic end of her own prophecy - and after it is complete, learns how to continue living in contentious times.

Overall, I was just bored with this book. Perhaps that had something to do with the last book I read (Graceling) being such an awesome adventure. Maybe if I knew The Aeneid I would have been entertained by catching references to the original work. But while I'm always interested in women's stories and women's histories, I was just bored throughout this one as Lavinia was so often a passive presence in her own life. Her entire life was ruled by men or prophecy - honestly, she only began to feel engaging in the last twenty or so pages (I just checked and I can't believe it was only that long - not only was I bored, but this book dragged). Since it's totally possible to have a story starring a character who never does anything for her- or himself (Hamlet springs to mind, though that may be just because my fiance has spent the last two days memorizing the 'To be or not to be' soliloquy and Hamlet is kind of taking over the apartment), I guess I'm sort of at a loss as to why LeGuin felt this book had to be written. Since so much of Lavinia's life is spent not doing anything on her own, what does this really add to The Aeneid? If this is what Lavinia's life was like, perhaps there's a reason she had nothing to say in the original poem...

Review: Feathered by Laura Kasischke

Wow, was this book ever a struggle to get through.

Terri, Anne and Michelle are off to Cancun to soak up the sun during spring break. The three are determined to make this week - the last spring break of high school - totally different from the rest of their lives in cold, snowy Illinois. Sun, drinks, and cute boys are the order of the week!

Terri dives headfirst into the fun, drinking and laughing it up with her fellow spring breakers. Anne and Michelle are slightly more hesitant, perhaps spurred on by the numerous speeches about safety their mothers have delivered, and have an additional item on their agenda: explore the ancient Mayan ruins that aren't too far from their hotel.

On the first night at the resort, Anne and Michelle meet Ander, a fatherly-type figure, old enough to be the father of most of the spring breakers, and with a foreign (not Mexican) accent. He's planning on visiting the ruins the next day as well and invites Anne and Michelle to come with him. Both hesitate - accepting a ride from a male stranger is exactly what their mothers warned them not to do - but ultimately agree.

At the ruins, Michelle is drawn into the myths and bloody history of the Mayan culture as Ander weaves stories about the sacrifices of virgins at the top of the pyramid. For the first time in her life, Michelle feels like she's actually having an adventure, actually doing something she could never do back in Illinois. Anne, meanwhile, is getting extremely creeped out by Ander. She refuses to accompany him and Michelle to the top of the pyramid and instead meets of trio of high school guys, also from Illinois, who are willing to drive Michelle and Anne back to the hotel, so long as they don't mind making a detour to a party at the Club Med first. (Insert ominous music - you know what's going to happen next)

Kasischke does do a good job of giving the story a sense of danger and depression throughout. Michelle is constantly reminiscing about some of the more depressing aspects of her childhood and growing up. What stuck out most to me, perhaps, was her constant fixation on things she couldn't do because she was a girl. She couldn't become a doctor or an astronaut because no woman she knew in her hometown had gone on to do those things - that's what men did. She doesn't make eye contact with men because she's terrified that they all think she's going to be coming on to them. I think these feelings will ring true to a lot of young women, and while I appreciate these issues being brought up in fiction, at times they felt heavy handed here. But these ruminations are the sole reason I'm pulling out the feminist label for this book, because they are issues that feminism is trying to tackle, even if they aren't handled in a particularly feminist way in this book.

Also interesting here was the use of alternating first person and third person narrative styles, like Another Kind of Cowboy used. I thought it was interesting that I stumbled across that particular stylistic device two books in a row. Additionally, Anne and Michelle tell their stories in two different tenses - Anne's parts of the book are first person, present tense while Michelle's are third person, past tense. Unlike Another Kind of Cowboy, however, it eventually becomes obvious why the two girls are narrating in totally different styles.

My biggest problems with the novel have to do with the ending - which is clearly a spoiler. If you've read the book and want to know my reaction to the end, or don't care about knowing the end ahead of time, click on "Read More"


Once the story starts following Anne, Michelle and the boys the story becomes rather predictable, at least if you've read the jacket and know that Michelle is supposed to disappear at some point in this story. But that predictability isn't necessarily a bad thing - what got bad about this novel is how nicely everything ended.

I think when I put this book on my to-read list, I was hoping for some sort of examination of Missing White Woman Syndrome in the light of instances like Natalee Holloway's disappearance. Definitely didn't happen. In fact, this read a lot like the after-school special version of a case like Natalee Holloway's - terrible things happen to these girls (but we never know how actually terrible), but everyone ends up back in Illinois by the end. Yes, Michelle is traumatized, until a feather brings her totally back to reality. I Am Not A Doctor, and my knowledge on amnesia is limited to what I just read on Wikipedia, but generally amnesia doesn't seem to work that way. It was an incredibly frustrating ending to what was already turning out to be a disappointing/frustrating book.

Review: Exodus by Julie Bertagna

I think it says something about me that I am continually drawn to books about dystopian future societies. Sure, I hope that our future is all sunshine and roses - after all, I don't want to be a Handmaiden like in The Handmaid's Tale or have brain lesions implanted during radical plastic surgery like in Uglies - but when it comes to books, I'll take the end of the world/government is evil scenario over almost any other.

Exodus takes place in the year 2100, after global warming has melted the polar ice caps and apparently drowned all of the land on Earth. As far as Mara Bell is concerned, all that is left of the world is her tiny island, Wing, which is rapidly being swallowed up by the still-rising waters. In order to escape the monotony of being trapped inside her small house during the storm season (a season which seems to get longer every year), Mara uses a piece of antique technology - a cyberwizz - to explore the ruins of a virtual-reality-type internet called the weave. It's while exploring these ruins one day that she makes a startling discovery: the citizens of Wing aren't the only people left alive on earth. After years of exploring weave in solitude, Mara stumbles across another entity, a person who has taken the cyber-form of a fox. He tells Mara he lives in the New World, a city called New Mungo that has been built on stilts high enough to rise above the waters and sturdy enough to support a civilization through the thrashing storms brought on by global warming.

When Mara tells her family and the rest of the community about her discovery, they are hesitant at first, but quickly realize they have no other choice but to try to reach New Mungo. The alternative is drowning with their tiny island.

A traumatic journey across the ocean leads to more trauma: a refugee camp made of boats, an uncountable number of people who are desperate for shelter within the safety of New Mungo, but aren't allowed in - not unless you are chosen during the Picking, a fate which no one is sure is a good or a bad thing.

Mara, wracked by guilt for having led her community into the horror of the refugee camp, makes a desperate attempt to gain entry into the city. She falls short of her goal, but is rescued by a "sea urchin," an orphaned boy who lives a wild life among the support pillars of New Mungo and on small islands that haven't succumbed to the rising ocean. Also living on the islands is a small civilization of Treenesters, people who live in what are possibly the last trees on earth, and believe they will be rescued from the islands when the Face in the Stone appears and can fulfill a prophecy. The Face in the Stone, it turns out, bears an uncanny resemblance to Mara.

Mara's adventure continues as she tries to devise a way to save not only the people of Wing from the boat refugee camp, but the treenesters as well. And when he treenester friend Gorbals, as well as the sea urchin who saved her, are taken by the New Mungo police in a Picking, Mara's quest leads her into the heart of danger: New Mungo itself.

Overall I found this to be a fun book, though there were some small problems with it. There wasn't always a lot of plot development leading up to a major event, so sometimes it felt like catastrophe upon catastrophe was befalling Mara with little reason. Also the beliefs of the treenesters seemed a little forced: the oldest of their clan is a woman who was a scientist before New Mungo was built; why would she suddenly start believing in some prophecy that was apparently made up of whole cloth? Legends and religions generally don't just spring up over night, but that's apparently what happened with the prophecy of the Face in the Stone.

At the end of it all, Exodus covers a lot of ground, but still leaves lots of questions unanswered. I just checked Wikipedia, source of all knowledge, and it says a sequel was published in 2007. Considering Exodus was originally published in 2002 and it just made it to America this year, who knows when we'll get the rest of the story.

The high point of the novel for me had to be when Mara was exploring an abandoned university that hadn't quite been submerged yet. The greatest legends, artists, thinkers and inventors throughout history were written about and depicted on the walls of the university - and there were hardly any women among them. When a woman appeared she was often a legendary figure, like the warrior queen Boudica. Hopefully in whatever future Mara builds for herself in Zenith, she will be remembered as a great and brave person.