Saints
Boxers & Saints, Book 2

Author: Gene Luen Yang
Pages: 176
Publisher: First Second
Publication Date: September 10, 2013
Read: September 4-5, 2013
Source: Finished copy from publisher

Description from Goodreads:
China, 1898. An unwanted fourth daughter, Four-Girl isn't even given a proper name by her family. She finds friendship—and a name, Vibiana—in the most unlikely of places: Christianity. But China is a dangerous place for Christians. The Boxer Rebellion is murdering Westerners and Chinese Christians alike. Torn between her nation and her Christian friends, Vibiana will have to decide where her true loyalties lie . . . and whether she is willing to die for her faith.

Boxers & Saints is a groundbreaking graphic novel in two volumes. This innovative format presents two parallel tales about young people caught up on opposite sides of a violent rift. Saints tells Vibiana's story, and the companion volume, Boxers, tells the story of Little Bao, a young man who joins the Boxer Rebellion. American Born Chinese author Gene Luen Yang brings his trademark magical realism to the complexities of the Boxer Rebellion, and lays bare the universal foundations of extremism, rebellion, and faith.

Previous Book in Series:
1: Boxers

First Sentence: "I am my mother's fourth daughter, born on the fourth day of the fourth month and the only one of her children to survive past a year."

Review:
Saints is a companion graphic novel to Boxers, which takes on the opposite perspective: that of a secondary devil. This terminology may not be familiar to you, so allow me to explain. A secondary devil is a Chinese person who has converted to Christianity, thus aligning themselves with the foreign devils. Saints covers the same time period, but has only one moment with the same scene happening, though it does offer further insight into the events of Boxers just the same. Though they're companions, I do think reading them in this order does work slightly better.

In Boxers & Saints, what Yang really digs into are people's motivations. How does an unassuming Chinese boy grow up to kill his countrymen as a Boxer? Why would a young girl convert to Christianity, rather than sticking to the gods of her country? Yang doesn't set out to teach the reader exactly what happened; there aren't any specific dates or anything like that. Instead, he shows the feelings and the ways of thinking that led to the bloody battles and the hatred. Boxers & Saints are nuanced, subtle and thought-provoking.

The main character of Saints made a brief appearance in Boxers, as the girl young Little Bao wanted to marry when he grew up because her face resembled an opera mask. Four-girl, so called because she was the fourth child to the family and believed to be a devil and to represent death, has no true name and is not beloved of her family. She tries to get them to accept her, but all they see is how she falls short. As a child might, she begins to act out for attention, by making a devil face. Her mother, sick of the comments from others about Four-girl's devil face, takes her to a Doctor, who happens to be a Christian, and he convinces her to stop with the devil face.

When Four-girl learns about the foreign devils, she is thrilled and eager to learn about their religion. Though she doesn't necessarily find the Bible compelling, what she gets from Christianity is the acceptance she's always craved. On top of that, they finally give her a name: Vibiana. Though Vibiana does not entirely understand Christianity or what the stakes are, her new religion is so important to her, because these people, these foreign devils, accepted her where her own family would not. That's why she would put her life on the line rather than renounce her faith.

As I mentioned in my Boxers review, the Boxers would put on the guise of Chinese gods, but, in Saints, you can see that there are actual humans fighting the battles. With this technique, Yang makes it clear that the guises of the gods are metaphorical, the boys so convinced of their victory because they have their gods' approval and support.

Similarly, Vibiana has visitations from Joan of Arc and even Jesus. The one from Jesus is fascinating, as he has the same eye marked on his hands that the old man who gave Bao the method to take on the guise of the gods had. I'm not entirely sure what point Yang is making with this, perhaps that all religion comes from the same source? The reason I bring this up at all when I'm not sure myself is to show how complex Boxers & Saints are and how well they will fuel discussions. I could see them being an excellent classroom resource, a fun, easy read that looks at the Boxer Rebellion, war and religion in an entirely different way than a textbook.

I did personally like Saints slightly less than Boxers. This may be because there's a good deal more text in this one, and it does lean a bit towards YOU ARE LEARNING NOW, as Vibiana is instructed in the ways of Christianity.

Boxers & Saints are best read together back to back, so the reader can fully flesh out the commonalities between the two and look at the many nuances. They're fairly light on text and heavy on character motivations.

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote:

"Joan: 'Shhh! My king receives his crown!'
 Vibiana: 'Ah. So the ugly man gets a fancy new hat.'"

Labels: 3.5 star, Graphic Novel Reviews, historical fiction, magic realism, religion, young adult

Boxers
Boxers & Saints, Book 1

Author: Gene Luen Yang
Pages: 336
Publisher: First Second
Publication Date: September 10, 2013
Read: September 4, 2013
Source: Finished copy from publisher

Description from Goodreads:
China,1898. Bands of foreign missionaries and soldiers roam the countryside, bullying and robbing Chinese peasants.

Little Bao has had enough. Harnessing the powers of ancient Chinese gods, he recruits an army of Boxers - commoners trained in kung fu who fight to free China from "foreign devils."

Against all odds, this grass-roots rebellion is violently successful. But nothing is simple. Little Bao is fighting for the glory of China, but at what cost? So many are dying, including thousands of "secondary devils" - Chinese citizens who have converted to Christianity.

First Sentence: "Spring is my favorite time of year."

Review:
Back in grad school, I had my first experience with Gene Luen Yang's work when we read his most famous graphic novel thus far, American Born Chinese. Though disparate in subject matter, Boxers does have something in common with his prior work, the magical realism that Yang brings to bear even on historical or contemporary subjects. In Boxers, Gene Luen Yang manages to pack quite a punch with his spare prose and straight forward drawings.

Though I learned about the Boxer Rebellion in college, I'll admit that my memories thereof are limited at best. Based on extensive research (okay, I checked Wikipedia), Yang actually fits in the main historical points without being at all tedious or lecturing. Basically, Yang has perfected the ability to teach without seeming like he's teaching, which is ideal for the intended audience. He conveys the difficult times that led to the rebellion, the drought and the negative impact foreigners were having in China, through the lens of the life of one young boy who grows up to head the rebellion.

Little Bao did not start out as a remarkable boy. He lived in the shadow of his older brothers and had his head in the clouds, fancifully imagining himself the character in an opera. With Little Bao's optimism, to some degree never shed throughout his journey, Yang captures the wholehearted believe the Boxers had that they would be victorious. In no way did they imagine that their gods would let them lose or that foreigners could truly take over China.

Remember how I mentioned the fantasy angle? Well, in Boxers, the beliefs in local gods, the beliefs being challenged by the conversion to Christianity coming with the influx of foreigners, are manifested physically. Yang literally pits the old gods versus the imperialist forces. Through a mystical process, Little Bao and his friends are able to transform themselves into gods of China, and fight with a strength much bigger than their own bodies and kung fu training give them. It's a bit strange, but I think Yang makes it work, and this technique adds a lot of color and vibrancy to the otherwise fairly spare Boxers, highlighting the colorful culture that is being suppressed.

However, Boxers does not preach. Yang, unsurprisingly given the dual nature of this release - Boxers being paired with Saints from the other side of the conflict, presents a balanced view. He makes it quite clear that horrible acts are perpetrated by both sides. If anything, Yang shows how horrible war is. Little Bao, once so innocent and fanciful, does brutal things, as so all of the Boxers. Bao must choose between love and war, and each time he chooses war and China. Boxers is surprisingly dark, intense and bloody, but done in a style that I do not think will overwhelm most readers.

Gene Luen Yang's Boxers confronts subject matter not covered enough in western culture with an even, honest hand. He adds in fantasy to the history, making for a more metaphorical and more visually exciting read. The focus on visual over narrative storytelling will make this a great read for both more reluctant readers and those at a higher reading level.

Rating: 4/5

Favorite Quote: "'For China?! What is China but a people and their stories?'"

Labels: 4 star, fantasy, Graphic Novel Reviews, historical fiction, magic realism, religion, young adult

Love in the Time of Global Warming

Author: Francesca Lia Block
Pages: 240
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)
Publication Date: August 27, 2013
Read: August 15-16, 2013
Source: ARC from publisher

Description from Goodreads:
Seventeen-year-old Penelope (Pen) has lost everything—her home, her parents, and her ten-year-old brother. Like a female Odysseus in search of home, she navigates a dark world full of strange creatures, gathers companions and loses them, finds love and loses it, and faces her mortal enemy.

In her signature style, Francesca Lia Block has created a world that is beautiful in its destruction and as frightening as it is lovely. At the helm is Pen, a strong heroine who holds hope and love in her hands and refuses to be defeated.

First Sentence: "The building has gold columns and a massive doorway, a mural depicting Giants, with small bodies sticking out of their mouths like cigarettes."

Review:
Let it not be said that I don't read with an open mind. There's a lot of talk on Goodreads and in the book blogging community about "hate reading" and whether or not one should do it. Deciding to read Love in the Time of Global Warming might have seemed a questionable choice, because I absolutely loathed with every fiber of my being the first and only Francesca Lia Block book that I read: Weetzie Bat. However, if I didn't risk possibly hating this one and feeling stupid for wasting my time or being deemed a "hate reader," I wouldn't have gotten to experience this amazing book. Even going into a book fearing the worst, there's a chance that you will be unexpectedly swept off your feet, and I've seen this happen to pretty much every blogger I know. So, surprisingly enough to me and to Bekka of Pretty Deadly Reviews who convinced me to read Love in the Time of Global Warming, I kind of loved this book.

My issue with Weetzie Bat was that the book read like I'd been unwilling forced into some sort of drug trip, which is not my thing in the slightest. The book is crazy and the writing annoyed me to no end. Love in the Time of Global Warming is definitely incredibly odd and a little bit crazy, but, for some reason, one I can't really put my finger on except to say that it just sort of comes together perfectly, this one worked for me.

The writing, while still more poetic and off the wall then I generally like, is this lyrical prose that fits perfectly with the story. Block makes excellent use of imagery and achieves a style that hearkens back to Homer's Odyssey while still being totally her own, which I really admire, because it's so tough to achieve.

What I really love about Love in the Time of Global Warming is that it's this genre mash up of awesomeness. Block blends together mythology, science fiction, post-apocalyptic, and magical realism into a book that should come out an incomprehensible mess, and may for some readers, but combined to be this brilliant, strange utterly unique little book for me.

There's this real blend of science fiction/post-apocalyptic with the retelling elements. While some aspects are explained with science, like the giants, others are where the magical realism comes into play, like the lotuses. Personally, I love magical realism and the way that it brought everything together and really made this retelling possible in a world no longer populated by gods and goddesses in our cultural imagination.

In no way is Love in the Time of Global Warming a strict retelling, but Block manages to bring in quite a few of the major plot elements, and they're clearly recognizable. Even better, Block doesn't have the tendency to go on and on in endless descriptions like Homer does. Also, Block takes a story that's very patriarchal, with the only women vile seductresses or waiting at home for their men, and makes it an LGBT love story with a heroine, slyly named Penelope in a nod to the one awesome woman in Homer's work, instead of a hero. All of the main characters have LGBT leanings and they're all messed up, but ultimately likable people with more to them than what initially meets the eye. In some ways, the apocalypse is what frees them to be who they are, because the end of the world really puts life into perspective.

My only reservations are these: one personal and one more analytical. On a personal note, I didn't feel any real emotional connection, this not being so much a character-driven story. In fact, I'm amazed I liked it so much given that I'm such a character-based reader, however the writing and story really resonated and struck the perfect tone. Analytically, there was a little plot line about Pen's parents that I didn't really think was entirely necessary. I didn't remember this from The Odyssey, but apparently another account (as in not written by Homer), explains this little addition. While I can see why she did that, it felt rather out of place since not much really happened with regards to this small twist.

If you appreciate genre-bending novels, particularly those with magical realism, I urge you to give Love in the Time of Global Warming a try. It's a strange, unique book and won't be for everyone, but Francesca Lia Block has woven together something magical here.

Rating: 4/5

Favorite Quote:

"I sniff. 'What is it?'
     'Punch!' he laughs. 'I don't know. Something strong. We need something fucking strong, don't you think? The world actually ended. As in the apocalypse? We better have something strong.'"

Labels: 4 star, Book Reviews, books inspired by other books, environment, lgbt, magic realism, post-apocalyptic, science fiction, young adult

The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Author: Neil Gaiman
Narrator: Neil Gaiman
Duration: 5 hrs, 48 mins
Publisher: Harper Audio
Read: June 29-July 1, 2013
Source: Digital copy from publisher for review

Description from Goodreads:
Sussex, England. A middle-aged man returns to his childhood home to attend a funeral. Although the house he lived in is long gone, he is drawn to the farm at the end of the road, where, when he was seven, he encountered a most remarkable girl, Lettie Hempstock, and her mother and grandmother. He hasn't thought of Lettie in decades, and yet as he sits by the pond (a pond that she'd claimed was an ocean) behind the ramshackle old farmhouse, the unremembered past comes flooding back. And it is a past too strange, too frightening, too dangerous to have happened to anyone, let alone a small boy.

Forty years earlier, a man committed suicide in a stolen car at this farm at the end of the road. Like a fuse on a firework, his death lit a touchpaper and resonated in unimaginable ways. The darkness was unleashed, something scary and thoroughly incomprehensible to a little boy. And Lettie—magical, comforting, wise beyond her years—promised to protect him, no matter what.

A groundbreaking work from a master, The Ocean at the End of the Lane is told with a rare understanding of all that makes us human, and shows the power of stories to reveal and shelter us from the darkness inside and out. It is a stirring, terrifying, and elegiac fable as delicate as a butterfly's wing and as menacing as a knife in the dark.

Review:
Oh, Neil Gaiman. I want to love his books in their entirety, but I have yet to do so. Still, they're creepy and beautifully-written, words seemingly selected with precision and artistry. In a lot of ways, The Ocean at the End of the Lane reads like his children's books, rather than an adult novel, but it would probably have scarred my childhood self something fierce.

Why Did I Read This Book?
Neil Gaiman. Hey, I may not have loved all of his books, but I have liked them all thus far, and they're all interesting. Where he tends to fall a bit flat for me is generally characterization, but I've found that his books are all just the slightest bit stronger for me in audio, because it's such a wildly different reading experience, at least for me, allowing me to appreciate the gorgeous flow of his prose and the delightful lilt of his accent.

What's the Story Here?
A middle-aged man returns home for a funeral, and, beset by a sense of something missing, he travels down the lane to the house where, in his seventh year, he befriended the strangest girl. Lettie Hempstock she was called, and she was four years older than him, quite ancient really. When he arrives at the farm, Lettie's not there, but her mother gives him tea and memories arise in him. The older man appears only in the framing chapters, while all the rest consists of the experiences of his seven year old self, as his involvement with the Hempstocks opens him up to a magical and scary world.

How are the Characters?
They seemed fairly well done on the whole, though I still lacked the emotional connection that really makes me care about a fictional character's fate. Gaiman's characters are interesting, but sort of lack that dimension that makes them fully real in my heart. The boy, who I don't think is ever given a name, is a surprisingly weak figure, more a special visitor to the stars, the Hempstocks. He seems a very ordinary boy, not a hero in any way, and I wouldn't say he really becomes one. In all, I'm not really sure what I was to get out of his journey, but it was certainly fascinating.

And the Horror?
The reason this is being marketed to adults rather than teens is perhaps how creepy it is. Books don't scare me, so I won't say I was ever frightened, really, but some of the scenes are haunting. Like Gaiman's Coraline, he delves into the terror of when your family is NOT your family. There's little that would be more completely worldshakingly scary than your dad suddenly not acting like your dad or loving you anymore. There's also an evil nanny and people-eating creatures. It's the macabre sort of story Neil Gaiman is so good at composing.

How was the Narration?
Yet again, I'm glad I went for the audio, since Neil Gaiman's always a delight to listen to, even if that does make me sound like a creep. His voice is soothing and well-suited to the sort of dreamy, dark fairy tales he generally writes. Besides, who knows what emphasis to place on words and sentences better than the author. Also, he sang a couple of times, which was fun.

Sum It Up with a GIF:


Rating: 3.5/5

Labels: 3.5 star, adult, Book Reviews, horror, magic realism

Imaginary Girls

Author: Nova Ren Suma
Pages: 348
Publisher: Dutton Juvenile
Read: May 20-June 2, 2013
Source: Library
Recommended by: Jenni of Alluring Reads

Description from Goodreads:
Chloe's older sister, Ruby, is the girl everyone looks to and longs for, who can't be captured or caged. When a night with Ruby's friends goes horribly wrong and Chloe discovers the dead body of her classmate London Hayes left floating in the reservoir, Chloe is sent away from town and away from Ruby.

But Ruby will do anything to get her sister back, and when Chloe returns to town two years later, deadly surprises await. As Chloe flirts with the truth that Ruby has hidden deeply away, the fragile line between life and death is redrawn by the complex bonds of sisterhood.

With palpable drama and delicious craft, Nova Ren Suma bursts onto the YA scene with the story that everyone will be talking about.

First Sentence: "Ruby said I'd never drown—not in deep ocean, not by shipwreck, not even by falling drunk into someone's bottomless backyard pool."

Review:
Nova Ren Suma has been on my absolutely-must-read list since her debut, but I've only just gotten around to reading one of her books. With any new author so beloved in the blogosphere, there's the fear that the books won't live up to the hype. Well, Nova Ren Suma did. Imaginary Girls wasn't what I expected, but it was so much better than that. Suma's debut is a gloriously dark magical realism mindfuck of a novel that kept me curious through every page.

On the surface, Imaginary Girls is a contemporary mystery, the story of two sisters, relatively calm and placid, like the surface of a reservoir. Underneath those waters, though, is another story, a whole town of issues, buried beneath the waters. Suma plumbs these depths, leaving the reader questioning what is real and what is insanity. Imaginary Girls walks the line between realistic fiction, magical realism and flat-out paranormal in such a way that I'm still not sure precisely how I should categorize it.

Chloe, the narrator, is hardly the heroine of her own story. She lives in the orbit of her older sister, Ruby, like everyone else in their town. Ruby is a sun, and everyone within the pull of her personality moves according to her whims. All the boys want her, all the girls want to be her, and she will never love anyone as much as she loves Chloe. Whatever Ruby wants, Ruby gets; no one can deny her anything, so long as they remain in their little town. Everything else is like our world, but Ruby exerts a pull that is truly out of this world.

When Ruby orders Chloe to swim across the reservoir and back at night, and to dive down at the center to grab a souvenir from Olive, the town underwater, Chloe does it. She believes Ruby's assertions that she can do it; Ruby will protect her from anything, absolutely anything. As she swims, cold water and fear engulf her, the sounds of the partiers watching her attempt this feat quieting behind her. Just when she feels she can't swim anymore, she encounters a boat with a dead girl inside, London, a girl from her class.

After this, her father, different from Ruby's, takes her away with him, away from Ruby's influence and their alcoholic mother, away from the reservoir, away from the tragedy. Ruby comes for her, though, finally, two years later. When Chloe arrives back in town, she learns something surprising: London's there and alive. Everyone says she swam across the reservoir that night and that London had gone away to rehab, not that she died. Needless to say, the mystery deepens.

Of course, Chloe could just be crazy, her mind splintering from the tragic events of that night. As in Ian McEwen's Atonement, this whole story could be some sort of creation of her own mind to explain what happened that night or her delusional dream in the institution where she's living out her life. In no way do I think Chloe's a reliable narrator, which adds layers to the already complicated narrative. Nothing is ever certain, which leaves the reader thinking and desperate to unravel the truth.

Suma's writing style is one that I would not ordinarily love, but it worked perfectly for this tale. There's a poetic element to it, and a sort of watery uncertainty, as through the truth is a moving target, bobbing on the ripples. The entirety of Imaginary Girls is dreamy and thought-provoking. Also, dark. Suma does not shy away from drug use, sex, violence, or other tough topics.

At its core, Imaginary Girls focuses on the relationship between Ruby and Chloe. The love between the two is powerful, but also a burden. It's so rare to find YA that focuses on sisterhood over romance, but Suma barely touches on romance. Boys matter so much less to both Ruby and Chloe than sisterhood does.

On a lot of levels, I'm still not sure what went down in this novel and that's really the beauty of it. If you liked your novels wrapped up in a bow with a moral and clear resolution, Imaginary Girls is not the read for you. However, if you love to open your mind up to new ideas and the puzzle of trying to figure out a mindfuck, go read this ASAP.
Rating: 4/5

Favorite Quote:

"She had two children who, since we had the same father, carried half my blood in their veins, just like Ruby did, the exact same amount, though I didn't feel connected to them in any real way.
     They were like any two people I might pass in the halls at school. One boy, one girl. You see them and wave. Maybe you have on the same color sweater and you're like, 'Hey. look. We're wearing the same color sweater.' But there's nothing else to be said beyond that, so you each keep moving. You know you'd barely give it a thought is you never see them again.
     This is how I know blood is meaningless; family connections are a lot like old gum—you don't have to keep chewing. You can always spit it out and stick it under the table. You can walk away.
     Ruby was my sister, but she was so much more than that."

---

Up Next:
The next Sadie Hawkins Sunday book will be The Summer Garden by Paullina Simons, after which I'll be finished with that series. Woo! Finishing a series doesn't happen every day. :) The series as a whole was suggested by Lisa V. Thanks, Lisa!

Want to tell me what to read? Fill out the following form with a suggestion! For more details, check this post.

Labels: 4 star, Book Reviews, family, ghosts, magic realism, mindfuck, mystery, paranormal, sadie hawkins sunday, young adult

The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow

Author: Rita Leganski
Pages: 400
Publisher: Harper Paperbacks
Source: Publisher via TLC Book Tours

Description from Goodreads:
Bonaventure Arrow didn’t make a peep when he was born, and the doctor nearly took him for dead. But he was only listening, placing sound inside quiet and gaining his bearings. By the time he is five, he can hear flowers grow, a thousand shades of blue, and the miniature tempests that rage inside raindrops. One day, Bonaventure’s world is shaken by anguished voices he’s never heard before–voices that trace back to a note written by his mother, Dancy, and to a peculiar relic owned by his Grand-mère Letice. When Bonaventure removes the note and the relic from where they’ve been hidden, he opens two doors to the past and finds the key to a web of secrets that both hold his family together, and threaten to tear them apart. Set against the background of 1950s New Orleans and the fictional town of Bayou Cymbaline, The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is rich with the character of a culture that overflows with conjured charms and sanctified spirits. It takes readers from a gumbo joint on Atchafaylaya Road to a sinister house in New Orleans to the interior of the Arrow family crypt. A magical debut novel about the lost art of listening and a wondrous little boy who brings healing to the souls of all who love him in this story of forgiveness and redemption.

First Sentence: "Bonaventure Arrow didn't make a peep when he was born, and the doctor nearly took him for dead."

Review:
Okay book, I'm pretty sure it was me and not you. Listen, I saw you and you were beautiful, and I wanted you right away. I couldn't resist your allure, your magical realism. I had to have you in my life. Now, though, I realize that I should have gotten to know you better first, before we committed to one another in any meaningful way. You really are beautiful inside and out, but just not in a way I can fully appreciate.

What I can say is that the writing in The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is beautiful. Simply lovely. Leganski's writing style plays into the feeling of magical realism perfectly, and the way she puts together sentences has a magic all its own. Her debut proves her writing chops, and I would be willing to consider reading whatever her next novel is, solely on the strength of her prose.

The book's opening captured me immediately, reminding me a good deal of Fitzgerald's short story "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" mixed with the southern charm of Sarah Addison Allen. The idea of a child, mute but intended for some big purpose, seems fraught with possibility. Unfortunately, the story then jumps back and spends almost the whole of the novel in the backstory of his mother and grandmothers. I never did find myself especially interested in any character but Bonaventure Arrow himself, and he didn't turn out to be much of a focus in the novel.

Bonaventure, in addition to being silent, has super hearing. He can hear everything, from falling stars to his father's ghost. Supposedly, this will allow him to do something quite special and live up to his saintly name. His counterpart of sorts, in the sense that they both have special abilities, is Trinidad, a much older black woman. She sees visions, Knowings, and practices hoodoo, which allows her to help people with natural herbs. Her hoodoo is remarkably similar to the effects of Vianne's chocolates in Chocolat. These elements are fantastic, but I don't feel like they served any actual purpose to the plot whatsoever. They seem merely to be there to make the setting more vibrant.

Actually, the only real plot seems to involve Bonaventure's father. William dies before Bonaventure's birth, shot by a mysterious, insane man. His mother and wife are trying to allay their guilt, the former by trying to figure out the identity of his killer. Meanwhile, William, in some sort of purgatory, watches over his family, and communicates with his son. The whole book seems mostly to be about him moving on to the next world. Rather than magical realism, this is much more of a ghost story.

What lost me, most heartily though, was all of the Christianity in the novel. No, it's not preachy, but it's incredibly boring. As I said, I couldn't be bothered about the backstory of the grandmothers, and their pasts are all wrapped up in their fervent religious beliefs. Every character isn't Christian, and it doesn't seem like Leganski's trying to say anything about it, but I just had no fucks to give about any of it. Like so much else in the novel, I just don't see why I had to sit through all of that when it doesn't seem to have had a big impact on the plot overall.

The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is a gorgeously-written novel, but suffers from a weak plot that tries to do too many things without tying them together. I might read more Leganski someday, but this one did not work for me.

Rating: 2/5

Favorite Quote: "'It's part of reaching the age of reason. As you get older, you figure out a lot of things with your mind, and you get better and better at it. But one day you realize that some things can't be figured out at all, no matter how old you are or how much you use your mind, and then you just have to listen to your heart.'"

Giveaway:
Though TSoBA didn't work for me, you still might love it (and what better way to try than a free copy). Harper sent me two copies, so I'm passing one along to a reader (and one to a friend). US/CAN only. Fill out the Rafflecopter to enter.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Labels: 2 star, adult, Book Reviews, ghosts, grief, historical fiction, magic realism, murder

Here Where the Sunbeams Are Green

Author: Helen Phillips
Pages: 304
Publisher: Delacorte Books for Young Readers
Source: YA Books Central

Description from Goodreads:
Rebecca Stead, Newbery Medal-winning author of When You Reach Me said this book is "brimming with surprises and grand adventure. Brave, smart, and full of heart, Madeline and Ruby are a gust of fresh air."

Mad's dad is the Bird Guy. He'll go anywhere to study birds. So when he's offered a bird-tracking job in Central America, his bags are packed and he's jungle bound.

But going bird tracking in the jungle and disappearing completely are very different things, and when the Very Strange and Incredibly Creepy Letter arrives, Mad can't shake the terrible feeling that her father is in trouble.

Roo, Mad's younger sister, is convinced that the letter is a coded message. And their mom is worried, because the letter doesn't sound like Dad at all. But Mad is sure it's a sign of something sinister.

The only way to get to the bottom of it is to go to Lava Bird Volcano and find their dad themselves. Though they never could have imagined what they're about to discover.

From new talent Helen Phillips, Here Where the Sunbeams Are Green is the story of what can happen when two sisters make some unusual friends, trust in each other, and bravely face a jungle of trouble all to bring their family back together.

First Sentence: "So here we are in this shaky little airplane high above the jungle, which is kind of (very) scary."

Review:
Oh, middle grade books, you are just so delightful. One of my goals this year is to read more of them, because I've had such good experiences with all of my middle grade selections. Here Where the Sunbeams Are Green is the latest success. Phillips' debut is enchanting, full of adventure, nature, and a little bit of magic.

For those who like to indulge wanderlust with fiction, Here Where the Sunbeams Are Green is a real treat. Set in the jungles of Central America, the descriptions are as lush and verdant as the landscape being described. Phillips captures both the beauty and the danger inherent in such a setting, from the poisonous bright-colored tree frogs to the daily monsoon-like rains. The descriptions bring this Central American jungle to life.

Using this setting, Phillips conveys important messages about modern society's treatment of the environment and extinction of natural species. In Here Where the Sunbeams Are Green, the two young heroines and Kyle, a new (cute) friend, team up to save a species of bird, the Lava-Throated Volcano Trogon, from final extinction. A Lazarus species, the LTVTs were already thought extinct once, but now they are being hunted to death for sinister purposes, and, for some reason, their father, a bird expert and lover, is involved. Phillips manages to get her environmental messages across organically, without any preaching.

My very favorite aspect of the story is the dose of magical realism that Helen Phillips added into the mix. La Lava, the plush resort Madeline and Ruby's father works for, is located next to an active volcano, one not believed to blow for another hundred years. However, this volcano's explosive tendencies correlate with the health of the LTVTs. If they die out, the volcano will explode. There are also these giant flowers that can be used as umbrellas if you push the right spot, and glowing mushrooms. These little magical touches really brought the story to life, adding a cinematic touch that middle graders will love.

Mad makes a rather unique heroine. Middle grade MCs tend to be funny and plucky kids, adventurous and brave. Mad, on the other hand, fears pretty much everything and envies the confidence and talents of her younger sister. Mad's jealousy of Roo does wear a bit thin, but I was so happy when Mad finally realized her own strengths. Roo does seem a little bit too magical and clever, though, so Mad's inferiority complex does make a bit of sense. For example, Roo picks up Spanish in just a couple days.

The plot follows pretty standard middle grade lines. Ruby and Mad's parents, while ordinarily loving and pleasant, have been made to act not like themselves. To restore their parents, Roo and Mad have to complete a quest, using ingenuity and determination. Along the way, Roo has a first crush. It's all very cute and empowering, if not anything out of the ordinary.

Helen Phillips transports you to another place and takes you on a journey through the jungles. Her skill at description and timely message make Here Where the Sunbeams Are Green a wonderful choice for middle grade readers (and older ones too).

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote:

"It used to be that whenever I felt sad or angry or jealous, Dad would explain that just a few little chemicals were creating the feeling. He said: Just a few little chemicals, no big deal, easy to ignore.
     He also said: Did you win the lottery?
     And I said: No.
     And he said: Yes you did! You won trillions of lotteries! First you won the lottery of the Big Bang, and then you won the lottery of evolution, and then you won the lottery of me and your mother being assigned to the same dorm in college, and then you won the lottery of our ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriends being fools, and then you won the lottery of us falling in love and getting married. Not to mention the lottery of the United States of America and a loving middle-class family."

Labels: 3.5 star, animals, Book Reviews, environment, family, magic realism, middle grade fiction, travel

Teeth

Author: Hannah Moskowitz
Pages: 288
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Publication Date: January 1, 2013
Source: Gifted ARC by Jenni of Alluring Reads

Description from Goodreads:
A gritty, romantic modern fairy tale from the author of Break and Gone, Gone, Gone.Be careful what you believe in.

Rudy’s life is flipped upside-down when his family moves to a remote island in a last attempt to save his sick younger brother. With nothing to do but worry, Rudy sinks deeper and deeper into loneliness and lies awake at night listening to the screams of the ocean beneath his family’s rickety house.

Then he meets Diana, who makes him wonder what he even knows about love, and Teeth, who makes him question what he knows about anything. Rudy can’t remember the last time he felt so connected to someone, but being friends with Teeth is more than a little bit complicated. He soon learns that Teeth has terrible secrets. Violent secrets. Secrets that will force Rudy to choose between his own happiness and his brother’s life.

First Sentence: "At night the ocean is so loud and so close that I lie awake, sure it's going to beat against the house's supports until we all crumble onto the rocks and break into pieces."

Review:
Hannah Moskowitz has been on my radar for years, but only since I started blogging has she become a high priority to acquire, particularly once I discovered Cuddlebuggery. Kat Kennedy has a shrine in her corner of the internet devoted to Hannah Moskowitz, perhaps only slightly smaller than the shrine to Melina Marchetta. Seeing such passion inspired in a reader, I can't help but be curious. Teeth is, without a doubt, one of the weirdest, most unique books I've ever read, and I can see what all the fuss is about.

Moskowitz's writing in Teeth is not of a style that generally appeals to me, but the writing style perfectly dovetails with the mood of the story and the character of Rudy. Jenni of Alluring Reads described the writing as 'choppy,' when we were discussing this book on Twitter. That descriptor really fits perfectly. The choppy writing mimics the cracking ocean and continuous discomfiture of the setting. The breaking waves, the storms, and the gray sky all reflect Rudy's emotional arc, and further reinforce the dark tone of the novel.

My favorite aspect by far is Moskowitz' use of magical realism. Teeth reads and feels like a contemporary novel, but with the twist of these magical fish, which, when eaten, can cure diseases and prolong life. Rudy's family moved to the island in a last-ditch attempt to save the life of his younger brother, who developed cystic fibrosis as a toddler. Unable to obtain a lung transplant, the parents heard about this island with magic fish and gave up their normal life to move to this tiny, weird place in the middle of the ocean.

Rudy, a sullen, sarcastic teenager, resents the move. He misses his friends and normal life, and, even with the fish, he's not sure how much hope there is for his brother. His life now consists solely of watching his brother for improvement, running barefoot (something he does now, perhaps as an attempt to connect with the world around him?), and homeschooling. Most of the people living on the island are old, extending their lives by the consumption of these fish.

The island becomes much more interesting for Rudy on the day he discovers that he is not, in fact, the only teenager. He meets Diana, a beautiful teenage girl, who will not leave her house, and begins to think about the prospect of getting action again. He also meets, more strangely, a fishboy, as in half-boy/half-fish. A freaking mermaid, as if magic fish that can help his brother's lungs are not weird enough.

Without a doubt, Teeth is my favorite mermaid book thus far. Moskowitz' take does not romanticize. Teeth, though he becomes dear to Rudy, could never be described as anything but ugly, at least to human eyes. He's slimy, has webbed hands and sharp fish's teeth. Worst for poor Teeth, he cannot breathe underwater. He breathes oxygen, effectively trapping him by the shore with the humans he hates so much, since, despite his fish half, he cannot just disappear into the open ocean or he will drown. His origin story, though creepy and disgusting, is perfection, with a sort of Greek mythology flair.

Before I read this, I'd heard much made of the GLBT themes in this book. Those really are not the biggest or most important theme, though. What Teeth really delves into is what it means to be human and whether animal lives are worth less than human ones. Teeth really gets the reader to consider these classic questions through a different lens, and I loved this philosophical focus.

Though I did like the characters and very much enjoy their story, I would have liked a bit more character development. Rudy and Teeth are the only ones that were adequately fleshed out. The portrayal of Diana and her mother particularly disappointed me, as I would have liked to find out more about their motivations and really delve into their characters, like if Rudy had managed to get his hands on those journals, perhaps. His parents and little brother, Dylan, lacked personality too, having little existence outside of Dylan's illness.

Teeth is a dark, creepy story, completely unlike anything else I've ever read, and I highly recommend  it to anyone who really wants to look at the world in a new light. This will most definitely not be my last Moskowitz novel.

Rating: 4/5

Favorite Quote: "'Look.' I take a deep breath and say the only thing that will make us both sleep tonight. 'I think this is the part where we stop pretending we're not going to see each other again.'"

Labels: 4 star, Book Reviews, ethics, lgbt, magic realism, mermaids, young adult

Ask the Passengers

Author: A.S. King
Pages: 293
Publisher: Little, Brown BFYR
Publication Date: October 23, 2012
Source: Gifted ARC by Bekka

Description from Goodreads:
Astrid Jones copes with her small town's gossip and narrow-mindedness by staring at the sky and imagining that she's sending love to the passengers in the airplanes flying high over her backyard. Maybe they'll know what to do with it. Maybe it'll make them happy. Maybe they'll need it. Her mother doesn't want it, her father's always stoned, her perfect sister's too busy trying to fit in, and the people in her small town would never allow her to love the person she really wants to: another girl named Dee. There's no one Astrid feels she can talk to about this deep secret or the profound questions that she's trying to answer. But little does she know just how much sending her love--and asking the right questions--will affect the passengers' lives, and her own, for the better.

In this unmistakably original portrayal of a girl struggling to break free of society's boxes and definitions, Printz Honor author A.S. King asks readers to question everything--and offers hope to those who will never stop seeking and sharing real love.

First Sentence: "Every airplane, no matter how far it is up there, I send love to it."

Review:
Okay, it's official. I think A.S. King is one of the very best YA writers out there. Ask the Passengers is only my second experience with King, but I loved it just as much as, perhaps even more than, the first one I read, Everybody Sees the Ants. Even better, King falls into that realm of authors who can do something totally new every time. She has some themes in common, but the books themselves are very different. One has a younger male teen lead, one an older female teen, and both voices come through completely authentic. I am always so incredibly impressed by authors who can vary their subject matter, style and characters so much, sort of reinventing themselves with each book.

I just adore King's writing. She is, for me, one of the most quotable authors. Her writing isn't overly complex, but it gets the feelings and the point across so incredibly strongly. There are so many lines that I wanted to read aloud to my friend on vacation with me so that she could appreciate King's brilliance, but I couldn't because I'm so making her read this book next.

Ask the Passengers focuses on the theme of belonging, of identity, of self-discovery, and of peer pressure. Astrid Jones doesn't want to be put into boxes, doesn't want to be forced to be any one thing. She just wants to be Astrid Jones, whoever that is. Why does it have to matter so much whether we're gay or straight, white or brown, religious or agnostic, male or female, wealthy or poor, popular or unpopular? Astrid struggles with everyone's expectations and perceptions, afraid to be who she is but also unwilling to pretend to be something or someone else.

These themes resonated with me, because, really, who the fuck cares about those things? I mean, COME ON, it's the 21st century and we're still so caught up in defining things one way or another and on what's right that gay marriage is legal hardly anywhere. King brings up a lot of powerful issues and looks at the issue of being a girl in love with a girl in a different way than I have yet seen, and really made me consider the issue from a new angle. Plus, I sympathized with her desire to not have anyone know her business, because that's totally how I am. Why does everyone need to know?

Of course, the book also has humor, because the best issues books are imbued with humor, because a spoonful of sugar really does help the medicine go down. The whole opening plot is about how Astrid is weighed down by all of these secrets, those of her friends, her family and herself. Her friends, Justin and Kristina, are a power couple at school, the kind to be nominated for Homecoming King and Queen. Every Friday, they go on double dates with another couple, Donna and Chad. Actually, though, Justin's dating Chad and Kristina's dating Donna. SCANDAL! The only one who knows is Astrid, who's trying to decide whether to confess that she's actually dating a girl too, Dee, who works with her. I thought the whole situation was a hot mess, but I loved how theatrical it was. This would make a fantastic indie film. Just saying.

Another thing that I loved about the book, one which I could definitely see alienating some readers is Astrid's newly developed fascination with philosophy in general and Socrates in particular. I love philosophy myself, but the frequent discussions of it could put off some people. Even more than that, the philosophy takes a weird turn, in that Astrid creates an imaginary friend version of Socrates, who she dubs Frank Socrates; he helps her out along the way, making her question her behavior and what she holds true. I thought this worked, because of how motivated Astrid was by him and just her sheer exuberance about the class in general, but I do think it's interesting that both of her MCs I've read so far have had imaginary friends. Very odd, that.

My very favorite thing, though, was the part that gave the book its title: Astrid's love of planes and their passengers. Astrid does this thing where she will lie on the ground or on picnic tables and stare up at the sky, watching for planes. When she sees planes, she sends the passengers her love, along with her questions and frustrations, in a way of trying to help other people feel more loved and comfortable than she herself does. That was awesome just in and of itself. Better still, though, were the snippets of other people's stories (though a couple were too off the wall for me), showing the effect her little bits of love sent into the universe had on someone or other on the plane. These were all incredibly touching and moving, and I loved this little dose of magical realism.

I do know that everyone probably won't love A.S. King; I suspect her books will just be too weird for a lot of people. I, however, love them and want to strongly urge everyone who liked thought-provoking, quirky, clever books to read them. From what I can tell, A.S. King does not have anywhere near the name recognition and popularity she deserves.

Rating: 4.5/5

Favorite Quote: "'All those people who are chained here thinking that their reputations matter and this little shit matters are so freaking shortsighted. Dude, what matters is that you're happy. What matters is your future. What matters is that we get out of here in one piece. What matters is finding the truth of our own lives, not caring about what other people think is the truth of us.'"

Labels: 4.5 star, Book Reviews, family, friendship, insecurity, lgbt, magic realism, philosophy, romance, secrets, young adult

Glow

Author: Jessica Maria Tuccelli
Pages: 320
Review Copy Acquired from: Viking

Summary from Goodreads:
A breathtaking Georgia-mountain epic about the complex bond of mothers and daughters across a century.
In the autumn of 1941, Amelia J. McGee, a young woman of Cherokee and Scotch-Irish descent, and an outspoken pamphleteer for the NAACP, hastily sends her daughter, Ella, alone on a bus home to Georgia in the middle of the night-a desperate action that is met with dire consequences when the child encounters two drifters and is left for dead on the side of the road.
Ella awakens to find herself in the homestead of Willie Mae Cotton, a wise hoodoo practitioner and former slave, and her partner, Mary-Mary Freeborn, tucked deep in the Takatoka forest. As Ella begins to heal, the legacies of her lineage are revealed.
"Glow" transports us from Washington, D.C., on the brink of World War II to 1836 and into the mountain coves of Hopewell County, Georgia, full of ghosts both real and imagined. Illuminating the tragedy of human frailty, the power of friendship and hope, and the fiercest of all human bonds-mother love-this stunning debut will appeal to readers of both Sue Monk Kidd's "The Secret Life of Bees" and Amy Green's "Bloodroot."
Review:
Ordinarily, I write my own summaries of books, but try as I might, I could not manage to sum Glow up in a paragraph. This novel, though not especially long, is dense and complex. There hardly is a plot, but a whole lot happens. Nothing is stated explicitly; it's left to the reader to suss out the meaning.

Glow did not especially grab me, but, despite that, I can still appreciate the artistry of the book. Jessica Maria Tuccelli displays evident talent both in the unique construction of a narrative and in the writing of disparate characters.

Tuccelli tells the story using multiple points of view, a very effective narrative style, but a very dangerous one as well. Only authors talented enough to write easily distinguishable characters by voice alone can pull it off. Tuccelli does so with ease. Each of the assortment of characters that narrate their perspective have very particular methods of speaking that clearly distinguish them. Most all of them speak in their own particular dialect, all quite distinct even though they all live in the same small town. One character's brief section seems more like poetry than prose, and, though unclear, conveys perfectly the confusion and tragedy of a little girl's death.

In Glow, Tuccelli tackles a number of serious issues, most importantly that of racism. The characters in the story come from an array of backgrounds, but are mostly black and Indian (as in Native American). The story spans all the way from before the Civil War era to 1941, from the era of slavery to the fight for civil rights.

When I first started reading Glow, I tried to read it like I do most books, quickly, devouring. This was, I realized later, a mistake. By reading so fast, I became confused about some of the action and the relationships between moments. When I began reading more slowly, giving myself more time to mull over what was going on and to really savor Tuccelli's talent, my joy of the book most certainly increased.

If you like beautifully-written historical fiction that will really make you think, try Glow.

Rating: 3.5/5

Labels: 3.5 star, adult, Book Reviews, bullying, gender, ghosts, historical fiction, lgbt, magic realism, multiple points of view, racism, slavery

Practical Magic

Author: Alice Hoffman
Pages: 286
Publisher: Berkley Books

Of the three Alice Hoffman books I have read, this one is by far the best. Those familiar with the movie may expect the book to be a romance, and that is an aspect of it, but what the book is really about is family and, even more specifically, sisterhood. Though the book focuses on Sally and Gillian, the reader also learns details from the lives of the aunts and of Sally's two daughters. The connections between these three sets of sisters are vastly different, but all completely necessary and strong, even if it sometime takes a while for them to realize the importance of the connection or value one another entirely.

As with the other Alice Hoffman books I have read thus far, I was not particularly connected to any of the characters. They always seem to have a real distance to them that I cannot bridge. The result is that I never bond with them. Often, this ruins books for me, as characterization is the first thing I look for in a book. Of course, this is not to say that the characters in Practical Magic are not interesting, because they are, but that they did not take up a special residence in my heart as I read.

What drew me into the novel above all was the language and the magic. The diction and syntax in this novel has a simple beauty to it that I very much appreciated. This style worked perfectly in conjunction with the magic woven through the novel, especially since the magic was done in a very magical realism sort of way. Most of the magic done is not in spells, but in just making use of natural laws; much of it isn't intentional, rather it just is. This book reminded me a lot of Sarah Addison Allen's, so, if you liked those, definitely give Practical Magic a read. I even wonder if this book may have been an influence on Allen.

Practical Magic is a lovely story for those who want to believe that magic exists in the world and that true love may just be out there, although it may not be that easy to find or keep.

Labels: adult, Book Reviews, family, magic, magic realism, romance

Stories for the Nighttime and Some for the Day

Author: Ben Loory
Pages: 210
Review Copy Acquired from: Penguin

Ben Loory's collection of short stories is, surprisingly, accurately portrayed by the cover. As much as I depend on them (old adages be damned), they often lie, depicting some scene or person never to occur or exist within the novel. The ocean, the spaceship and the octopus tentacle are all main aspects of at least one story. Let me also say that I love the cover, from the art to the texture of it. I also like the texture of the paper within (which does the old timey thing where some pages stick out more than others) and the flaps built into the trade paperback. This book is an excellent tactile experience.

Even before reading the first story, I was charmed by Loory, whose author's note reads: "Here are some stories. I hope you like them." So simple, but completely perfect, because that's what I, as a reader just starting into the book, precisely hope to do. So, you may wonder, did I like the stories? For the most part, yes. The stories are all very short and the writing is deceptively simple. In very few of the stories did I feel like I had a good grasp on what exactly was going on.

Most of the stories are left very open-ended, almost as though the stories are as much about you as they are about the characters in them. This point is borne out by the fact that the characters generally do not have names, referred to only as boy, girl, man, woman, friend, etc. In fact, if I remember correctly, the only characters who receive names are animals: the octopus family in "The Octopus" (along with their likely human landlord, who may be the only human with a name) and the moose (who receives a moniker) "The Man and the Moose." I am not quite sure what to make of this, but it's definitely intriguing.

The universality of the characters combined with the fantasy/magic elements made the stories feel like modern fairy tales or fables or urban legends. The magic was pervasive, subtle and a part of the regular world, which reminded me, in an odd way, of Sarah Addison Allen's novels. Where hers feature a sweet, happy magic, Loory's magic is generally that of something dark and dangerous, although some of the stories included are cute ones (which I fancy are the ones for the day). As an example of what reading the stories is like, I am going to share the shortest story with you.

"Once there was a man who was afraid of his shadow.
Then he met it.
Now he glows in the dark."

Without a doubt, Stories for the Nighttime and some for the day is an interesting read and exceedingly thought-provoking. Every story really is like the one above, in that the meaning is rather unclear and it's up to you to suss it out. I think this would be an excellent title for a book group, as everyone could share their impressions and analyze the themes running through all of the stories to get at the project's aims as a whole. I hope to see more from Ben Loory, especially what kind of a novel he would write.

Labels: adult, Book Reviews, fantasy, magic realism, science fiction, short stories

The Peach Keeper

Author: Sarah Addison Allen
Pages: 273
Publisher: Bantam

Brief Summary:
Willa Jackson moved back home to Walls of Water when her father died and left her the house. A prankster in school for reasons she never really understood, she felt guilty for having failed her educator father. Paxton Osgood, on the other hand, seems to have everything totally under control, just like she did in high school. She heads up the Women's Society Club, which performs charitable work while also giving the classy local ladies a chance to show off. Then again, Paxton still lives at home and has fallen in love with her best friend, who, she's pretty sure, is gay. Both Willa and Paxton are in for some surprises when the restoration of the old Jackson family home by the Osgood family unearths some family skeletons (literally).

Review:
The Peach Keeper is Allen's fourth novel, but only my second of hers. I read her first book, Garden Spells, last year and positively adored it. This one definitely did not disappoint and has convinced me that all of Allen's books will need to make their way into my personal collection at some point. Even though I do not normally care for southern fiction (ironic that, being a southern girl myself, Allen does it perfectly. The fact that the stories are set in the south both do and do not define the stories (which I realize is super unclear, but I know what I mean). The characters do not drawl everything, but there is a southern-ness that I can't really explain.

What makes Allen's work shine amongst other chick lit books out there is the magical realism. There is always an element of magic, not the Harry Potter kind, but magic all the same. It's a magic that, as the term suggests, is accepted as natural, and really does seem to be. The magic has a subtlety and possibility to it that makes me really want to believe that the real world is Allen's world.

Plus, there's the romance. I do not read too much chick lit anymore. At some point, it just stopped actually striking me as particularly romantic or believable. Allen's romances are quite simple. They don't try to surprise you too much; you know who's going to end up with whom, which frankly you pretty much always do. Again, the delightfulness of the romance stems from the sheer cuteness and the chillness of it. There is no bodice ripping or exuberant sex scenes, and yet you can feel your heart do little happy skips. Or maybe that's just me.

Although I think I preferred Garden Spells a bit overall, I still loved reading The Peach Keeper. I highly recommend Sarah Addison Allen to fans of chick lit and to people who really want to believe that love and magic really exist.

Labels: adult, Book Reviews, chick lit, family, friendship, magic, magic realism, recommended, romance, southern

The Vespertine
The Vespertine, Book 1

Author: Saundra Mitchell
Pages: 293
ARC Acquired From: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt via NetGalley

Brief Summary:
Amelia lived a rather boring, country life in Maine until she was sent to spend a season with cousins in Baltimore. During this time, she was intended to meet a man of good station and get married. What she did instead was discover that she sees visions of the future, become famous/infamous for the former thing around Baltimore, behave rather indecently with a man who would not be a good marriageable prospect and ruin her reputation. Drama, drama, drama.

Review:
The Vespertine is one of those books that I cannot decide whether or not I liked it overall. I really thought the premise was interesting. I have always had a soft spot for high society/season things (I even made it through Godbersen's Luxe series). Plus, there's the magic element, which came off with a hint of magic realism (super cool). Still, there were other aspects that were less well done or just not fully used.

For instance, the opening chapter is pretty astounding. Amelia is shut up in a room for having brought shame upon herself and the family. Locked up by her own family. With that and the period piece element, I was thinking back on Wildthorn, although the books really are quite different. This chapter grabs the reader's attention and takes a powerful hold. You want to know all the gritty and dirty details about what Amelia has done. But that atmosphere never really comes back again.

What bugged me the most was how much like a trashy romance novel the story was at times (okay, only when Amelia is with her boy). Seriously, the dialog and descriptions would not be out of place in the latest Judith McNaught book. Plus, I never really got to liking Nathaniel (that's his name). Or mostly I just couldn't take him seriously, because he's such a stereotypical flirty bad boy leading her down a bad path in his introduction. Then, you get a description of him on a usual day: "His coat was cut in green and gold tartan, and he'd pinned the pocket with a nosegay of tangerine silk" (73). Yikes! That's some color combo.

The Vespertine makes a nice change from some of the more typical teen fare. Some important issues are brought up, along with magic, love, romance and ruination. Not for everyone, but some will enjoy this late nineteenth century romp.

Labels: Book Reviews, historical fiction, magic, magic realism, romance, young adult