osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

I finished Ann Patchett’s This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, which I liked more than I expected per last week’s review. Of course it helped that there are a couple essays near the middle of the book about Truth & Beauty and the controversy that erupted when the book was assigned as summer reading for incoming freshman at Clemson University. (Some of the parents thought the book was way too gay - it talks about two women being best friends and stuff! Clearly a front for homosexuality! - and also referenced drug usage and extramarital sex and OMG, how could this be required reading???)

I also read Cece Bell’s El Deafo, which is a comic book memoir about growing up deaf. El Deafo was the name Bell gave her superheroine alter ego, who got superpowers from her amazing Phonic Ear and later from a glasses. It’s cute and sweet and not very memorable, although I did particularly like it’s portrayal of Cece’s first best friend, a girl who always insisted on doing what she wanted to do, exactly how she wanted to do it.

I had a friend like this is sixth grade. It was exactly as exasperating as Bell describes it: she came up with good ideas just often enough that it’s hard to extricate yourself, but it’s still extremely grating to have the games fall apart every time you assert your own opinions on things. (“How about the imaginary game we’re creating together doesn’t revolve around your princess character, hmm?”)

And finally, this year’s Newbery Winner, Kwame Alexander’s The Crossover, which like Brown Girl Dreaming is a book in verse. Another verse from the book:

Basketball Rule #10

A loss is inevitable,
like snow in winter.
True champions
learn
to dance
through
the storm.

ExpandSpoilers )

What I’m Reading Now

Nicholas Carr’s The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains, which is an expansion of his article “Is Google making us stupid?” and, like many books that are expanded forms of magazine articles, doesn’t seem to have quite enough to say to make writing a whole book worthwhile. Carr argues that internet usage atrophies our attention spans: that, as we get used to digesting text and images in small chunks and jumping from one thing to another, we lose the ability to concentrate deeply that is central to reading books. I think he has a point, but I am somewhat doubtful that he needs 224 pages to make it.

I’ve also started Rosemary Kirstein’s The Steerswoman, which has not grabbed me so far, but I’m only a little ways in.

What I Plan to Read Next

I’ve finally gotten Rainbow Rowell’s Eleanor & Park from the library, which I’ve been meaning to do since I read Fangirl.

I’m also waiting for Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I've Just Finished Reading

Michael Ende's Momo, which I think I would have appreciated more if I had read it when I was a child. As it was, the villains fell rather flat - they're evil gray time-stealing creatures who exist for no other reason than to steal time from human beings - which drained the book of much of its forward motion for me, I think.

I also read Courtney Milan's The Countess Conspiracy, which I enjoyed, although it didn't leave as strong an impression as The Duchess War or The Heiress Effect. But it did have this one exquisite quote, which I will share with you: Victory wasn't sweet; it was devastating and incomprehensible. It reduced her to rubble when she could have withstood harsh words.

I feel like I've read something else (it's been three weeks since I posted this meme! Surely I read something else in that time?) but it's not coming to mind now, so clearly it didn't make much of an impression on me.

What I'm Reading Now

Ann Patchett's essay collection This is the Story of a Happy Marriage, which I hoped to find as compelling as Truth and Beauty, her memoir about her friendship with Lucy Greeley. (I highly recommend Truth and Beauty to everyone and should probably write a review of it someday so I can extoll its many virtues.)

This is the Story of a Happy Marriage is a perfectly reasonable essay collection, but so far it does not live up to Truth and Beauty, although who knows, perhaps one of the later essays in the collection will offer that shining moment of transcendence.

What I Plan to Read Next

I have the latest Newbery Medal winner, Kwame Alexander's The Crossover. If the cover is any guide, it features basketball heavily, which has rather put me off, but I really should crack it open and give it a try.

But I borrowed the first Hercule Poirot novel from Caitlin, and I ought to read it so I can return it to her when I visit next week, so I may end up reading that first.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I've Just Finished Reading

Jacqueline Woodson's Brown Girl Dreaming. Here, have an excerpt from another poem:

When I hear the word
revolution
I think of the carousel with
all those beautiful horses
going around as though they'll never stop and me
choosing the purple one each time, climbing up onto it
and reaching for the golden ring, as soft music plays.

The revolution is always going to be happening.

I want to write this down, that the revolution is like
a merry-go-round, history always being made
somewhere. And maybe for a short time,
we're a part of that history. And then the ride stops
and our turn is over.

We walk slow toward the park where I can already see
the big swings, empty and waiting for me.

And after I write it down, maybe I'll end it this way:

My name is Jacqueline Woodson
and I am ready for the ride.

I also finished reading Rosemary Sutcliff's Lady in Waiting, which I enjoyed. It has a sad ending (which it telegraphs on like page 5, so I don't feel like I'm spoiling anything by saying this), but it's not a sad book, not the way for instance The Lantern Bearers is: the main characters have great vitality and life.

And although Queen Elizabeth only appears briefly in the book, I though Sutcliff did an excellent job with her. Often writers seem to be either loyal partisans or bitter opponents (I have the impression that Philippa Gregory loathes Elizabeth Tudor), but Sutcliff's portrayal is more nuanced: Elizabeth is lively and charming, impetuous and sometimes cruel in a cat-like manner, ad while she ultimately puts her realm first, it's sometimes only after she has exhausted all other options.

What I'm Reading Now

I just remembered that I have Zilpha Keatley Snyder's The Velvet Room, so I started that. So far, Robin has climbed over a stone fence with a wrought iron gate into a tangled apple orchard. This seems promisingly Gothic.

What I Plan to Read Next

Perhaps Courtney Milan's The Countess Conspiracy? I haven't quite decided yet.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I've Just Finished Reading

Courtney Milan's The Heiress Effect. Jane Fairfield, desperate to drive away suitors because she needs to stay at home to protect her sister Emily from the well-meant but disastrous series of medical quacks their uncle sends to try to cure Emily's seizures, has made herself into a social monstrosity. Her gowns are too bright, her voice is too loud, and the things she says! - she sounds so kindly, so sympathetic, as she commiserates with so-and-so about how difficult it must be knowing that people only listen to him because he's a baronet.

This is the sort of premise that could easily become deeply embarrassing for the reader, who cringes as Jane lumbers from one disaster to another. But she walks into her disasters so clear-eyed and unembarrassed that it's impossible to be embarrassed for her, and it becomes rather a pleasure, instead, to watch her say the things that no one else dares to say.

The one problem I had with this book is that I felt Oliver figures out her game rather too quickly. No one else has noticed that she's being dreadful on purpose, so why should he do it in just a few meetings? It doesn't feel organic to his character (and part of the problem, I think, is that his character seems rather ill-sketched next to Jane's); it feels like it happens because it needs to happen for the narrative to move forward.

I might have liked it better if he began to fall in love with her, dreadfulness and all, and only then realized that the dreadfulness was a mask.

I also read Kelsey Osgood's How to Disappear Completely: On Modern Anorexia, which is half memoir about Osgood's struggle with anorexia and half indictment of the way that modern culture commodifies narratives of struggle with anorexia, a tension that Osgood is aware of and somewhat uncomfortable with and does not deal with entirely successfully. I'm not sure what a successful engagement with that conundrum would look like, but I sort of suspect it would look like not writing the book, which perhaps contributes to the fact that the book never quite comes together.

The book also suffers because Osgood is obsessed with Marya Hornbacher's Wasted, to the extent that How to Disappear Completely sometimes seems patterned on Hornbacher's memoir. At one point Osgood does a side-by-side comparison between a passage of her writing and a passage from Hornbacher's, a comparison which really drives home Osgood's comparative lack of both power and precision. (She's using it to show how she patterned her own experiences on the anorexia memoirs she devoured, so there's a good reason for it, but it still seems quite misguided.)

This is not to say that Osgood's criticisms of Wasted are wrong, of course. Osgood notes that many girls she met on eating disorders units read and reread Wasted for inspiration - not inspiration to get healthier, mind, but inspiration to redouble their commitment to being anorexic. But being right is not enough to make Osgood's book coalesce from a bunch of evocative parts into a coherent and compelling whole.

What I'm Reading Now

Rosemary Sutcliff's Lady In Waiting, about Bess Throckmorton's marriage to Walter Raleigh. The title is a pun: Bess was one on Queen Elizabeth's ladies-in-waiting, but she also (at least in Sutcliff's telling) spent much of her life waiting for Walter Raleigh to come back from his various schemes and remember her. He is, to an almost hilarious degree, the pinnacle of the Sutcliff hero who is incapable of remembering his lady-love when she's out of his sight. The queen punishes them for marrying by imprisoning them in the Tower (in separate parts of the Tower, of course), and when they're released, he doesn't even pause to say goodbye before he goes haring off to the coast.

All this is to say that it's an intensely Sutcliffian book, and if you like that sort of thing (which of course I do) you will probably enjoy it very much.

I've also started Michael Ende's Momo, but I haven't gotten very far so I'm reserving judgment currently.

What I Plan to Read Next

Still waiting for the library to come through for me with this year's Newbery books.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Courtney Milan’s A Kiss for Midwinter, which I didn’t like quite as much as the other Brothers Sinister books that I’ve read. Lydia continues to be a doll, but her paramour - I’ve forgotten his name - seems just a little bit too full of himself. He has a few affecting scenes where he struggles to care for his aging and increasingly demented father, but otherwise I mostly wanted Lydia to smack him.

To be fair, Lydia also spent a large percentage of the book yearning to smack him. It’s just that the narrative necessitated that she had a change of heart, and my heart did not change with hers.

Sam Eastland’s The Beast in the Red Forest, the most recent Inspector Pekkala book, which ends - I kid you not - Pekkala, his junior partner Kirov, and Kirov’s fiancee Elisaveta having Friday night dinner together, while Stalin enviously listens in using the bugs he’s put in Pekkala office. He waits until they’re juuuuust sitting down to dinner, and then he has his secretary put through a call to Pekkala, so he can sort of interject himself into this cozy scene.

Book six is probably not going to involve Stalin dispersing them to separate gulags and then wondering why he has no friends (maybe because you send them all to gulags, Stalin?), but I feel like that would be the logical aftermath.

I also - at last! - finished Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere, wherein Richard Mayhew defeats not one, but two forces of darkness that have destroyed countless greater foes by sheer force of his own protagonist-hood. Like, seriously, that’s it. In one instant he spears a beast that has dozens of spears sticking out of its hide from other hunters, but Richard’s spear kills it because - I don’t know, it would be way inconvenient for him to die at that point in the story.

I think what bothers me about Gaiman’s writing is that he wants to have the fun parts of darkness without any of the price: the dead don’t actually die, the betrayals don’t really hurt, the danger never feels quite real, and evil is a cartoonish force rather than something that real people can actually become. It’s like he’s mistaken a noir aesthetic for actual darkness.

What I’m Reading Now

Jerome K. Jerome’s Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, which I think is meant to be funny but isn’t, not even in the mild and ponderous way that I found Three Men on a Boat funny. So far it mostly seems to be regurgitated high-flown high Victorian moral rhetoric, with a mild spin that might, I suppose, make it amusing if you lived with the real thing all the time.

Also Nancy Jo Sales’ The Bling Ring: How a Gang of Fame-Obsessed Teens Ripped Off Hollywood and Shocked the World, which I’ve only just started. So far it seems to be steering clear of What’s Wrong with Kids These Days territory; let’s hope this trend continues.

What I Plan to Read Next

My dad and I tromped over to the university library, and I came back with a small haul: George MacDonald’s At the Back of the North Wind, Zilpha Keatley Snyder’s The Velvet Room, and The Novel: An Alternative History: Beginnings to 1600. Because who doesn’t want to read about ancient Greek novels, am I right?
osprey_archer: (books)
What I've Just Finished Reading

Courtney Milan's The Duchess War, which I unexpectedly loved. Well, not completely unexpectedly: the whole Brothers Sinister series has a prequel novella, The Governess Affair, which I did enjoy a lot.

But I didn't expect to love this book quite this much, but I do, I totally do, because both Minnie and her paramour Robert the duke of Clermont have so many issues. Like, seriously, so many issues.

Minnie has a phobia of crowds so bad that she faints when too many people look at her, because of a bad experience with a mob in her childhood that left her with a scar on her cheek. (The exact details come out as the book progresses, and I won't spoil them here, but it leads to one of my favorite quotes in the book. "This?" she said, touching her cheek. "Oh, no. I intended to get that. I consider it a beauty scar.")

Meanwhile, Robert is convinced that no one will ever love him because neither of his parents did. His mother left his father because he was an abusive wastrel, but she returned once a year to visit Robert, and his father was always after Robert to be terribly adorable so she would cave in and decide to stay. It never worked, which exasperated his father: Any other boy, and things would be so much better. Even your mother doesn't want you enough to stay.

And of course having to harden her heart against her son again and again so she could leave her horrible husband at the end of each visit ended up more or less destroying the mother-son relationship, too. I think Robert's mother is my favorite character in this, actually, because she would have been so easy to make a caricature: as she says herself, when she visits the heroine's house to talk her out of marrying Robert, "I have read Pride and Prejudice. I know precisely what role you're casting me in - the officious Lady Catherine, foolish meddler, who believes that Darcy must marry her miserable daughter."

It's this great meta moment, because I totally had. She's not a nice person; her life experiences have hardened her too much for that. She's become exceptionally clear-eyed and pragmatic, and when Robert and Minnie go ahead and marry, she accepts the accomplished fact and calmly changes tack to help make the marriage a success.

And, issues and all, Robert and Minnie are perfect for each other. Perfect for each other! As Minnie says: "There is nothing stupid about your telling me that you love me. Ever."

What I'm Reading Now

Still Neverwhere, which is not catching fire for me. I promised a friend that I'd read it so I will finish it, but...yeah.

Also Gwen Raverat's Period Piece, which I think could have used a firm editor: someone willing to tell her that, no really, you cannot quote quite this extensively from your mother's (really rather boring and prosaic) letters.

What I Plan to Read Next

Courtney Milan's A Kiss for Midwinter, the companion to The Duchess War, which is about Minnie's best friend Lydia and, presumably, the way that she too finds true love.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Lisa See’s China Dolls, which I didn’t much like, sadly. Many of See’s books (possibly all of See’s books? It might not be a major theme in Peony in Love) feature loving but difficult relationships between women: May and Pearl in Shanghai Girls, Lily and Snow Flower in Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. She’s clearly going for this dynamic again in China Dolls, but unfortunately the balance is tipped so far in the direction of “difficult” that it’s hard to see why they bother with each other.

Also, the book relied far too heavily on the fact that one of the narrators wasn’t telling the readers the truth, which is a device I find irritating unless there’s a really good excuse for it. The narrator is telling the story to her interrogators and therefore not telling it straight? Fine. The narrator is suffering from partial amnesia but telling us the truth as she knows it? Fine. The narrator is leaving out huge gaps of information because it’s convenient for the author? UGH.

It also means that the big reveal near the end falls completely flat, because there’s been this big betrayal and the character who made it trots out all these reasons for it. But we haven’t heard any of these reasons in her sections of narration, so it feels like she’s making it up to manipulate the others. We’re not supposed to think she’s lying to her friends and is actually a psychopath who gets her rocks off by pitting people against each other, but that’s the reading that makes the most sense.

What I’m Reading Now

Paula Byrne’s Mad World: Evelyn Waugh and the Secrets of Brideshead, which might be summarized “Maybe interwar Britain really was as gay as Jo Walton portrayed it in Farthing? I thought that making literally every single male character except the heroine’s father either gay or bisexual (and probably the father was just hiding his true proclivities from his daughter) had to be overstating things. AND YET.”

I’m much more interested in interwar Britain than Evelyn Waugh himself, but the book is good on both counts - although so far Byrne hasn’t convinced me of her thesis that Waugh wasn’t a snob; so far her main defense seems to be that he was, like, a hipster snob, being snobbish ironically. Okay then.

I’m also reading A. S. Byatt’s Possession, which is a mystery about literary and historical research. Why is this not an entire genre? I for once would read the hell out of it.

What I Plan to Read Next

I’ve been thinking about doing a Harry Potter reread. I read the first three books about five billion times when they first came out, but I haven’t reread any of it for years, because I found the later books progressively more disappointing. But now I feel a hankering to give it another go.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Edwidge Danticat’s Claire of the Sea Light, which is not quite what I expected (in particular, I expected more Claire), but liked quite a bit nonetheless. It’s as much a series of interconnected short stories as a novel: each chapter focuses on the story of a different character (Claire’s father & Claire, the cloth-seller who Claire’s father wants to adapt Claire, a young man who worked at the radio when the cloth-seller’s husband was shot, etc. etc…), all working together to create a mosaic of life in Ville Rose, Haiti.

It’s a rather odd book. Most of the things that happen are sad, even grim, and many of the characters have done awful things - which is made harder, perhaps, because none of them are awful people usually. The two I’m thinking of are basically decent people who each did an awful, unforgivable thing in emotional extremis, and they don’t even seem to realize how awful their actions truly were.

But the overall effect of the book isn’t grim, and I’m not sure why that is. The language and the images are very precise, and there is something lovely in that precision. But I think it is more that Danticat loves all her characters. The book is full of mercy, or perhaps grace in a religious sense: Danticat offers understanding to all the characters, even the ones who don’t deserve it - even if they haven’t even begun to realize how much they need to repent. The understanding is there, if they ever grow strong enough to feel it.

I’ve also finally finished Rider on a White Horse! Which I have been nattering about reading on this meme for...an embarrassingly long time, I don’t even want to look. Anyway, it’s one of those Sutcliff books that takes a very long time to get started: I was about halfway through the book (and we’d already had two battles) before it really caught my interest, when Anne got captured by the Royalists. But that was very exciting! I always enjoy it when the characters are thrust into a situation like this, surrounded by enemies (even though, in this case, the enemies treat her quite well) and scraping by on wits and chutzpah.

What I’m Reading Now

Maureen Johnson’s The Name of the Star. So far, it’s mostly the story of Louisiana teenager Rory Deveaux acclimating to life at a London boarding school for her senior year of high school, and I’m enjoying that so much that I’m almost sorry that it’s soon going to switch gears for a murder mystery. Possibly a murder mystery with ghosts or time travel or maybe vampires? I’ll find out!

What I Plan to Read Next

Sarah Rees Brennan’s Unmade came out recently, but the library doesn’t have it yet. Come on, library! You can do it!

In the meantime, I have Marie Brennan’s A Natural History of Dragons, which looks like tons of fun. Emma recommended it to me, so hopefully I will like it.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Lisa See’s On Gold Mountain: The One-Hundred-Year Odyssey of a Chinese-American Family, which is part family history, part history of Chinese immigration to America, and part (a rather smaller part) a history of modern China. I’ve been meaning to read this for years, and I’m glad I finally got around to it, because it’s fascinating. I can also see shadows of See’s later book Shanghai Girls, which draws on a lot of this research, and as I enjoyed Shanghai Girls, this adds an extra layer of pleasure to On Gold Mountain for me.

(As much as I enjoyed Shanghai Girls, I can’t recommend it because ending is completely inconclusive, and the sequel, Dreams of Joy, is not nearly as good. It feels much thinner, less lived-in, Pearl and May spend most of the book apart - and their relationship is really the driving force in Shanghai Girls - and Joy is not nearly as interesting as her mother and aunt. Of course, it’s probably unfair to expect a single person to be as interesting as two people put together...but still.)

I also finished Hilary McKay's Caddy's World, and am moping slightly at having no more Casson books to read. I love the Casson family, which is so odd and disorganized and yet very, very functional: the children are encouraged to do what they loved, and they know that they are loved, not only by their parents (particularly their mother) but by their siblings.

What I’m Reading Now

Maria Thompson Daviess’s Rose of Old Harpeth, to which I give props for having a romantic heroine who is already thirty... although I also take some away because Rose Mary often acts so head-in-the-clouds as to make Anne of Green Gables look like a grounded and level-headed person.

Thinking about this a bit more - I think the difference lies not so much in the quality of their musings, but in the fact that Anne has a fully functional set of emotions, including anger and misery, while Rose Mary seems to have excised anger and sadness from her emotional repertoire. It makes her feel insubstantial.

I’m beginning to think that Phyllis, the first Daviess book I read, was probably her best - or perhaps I should say, was most suited to my personal tastes - because neither this one nor The Golden Bird really grabbed me.

I'm also reading Jaleigh Johnson's The Mark of the Dragonfly, because I was charmed by the title and the giant dragonfly on the cover. This is a somewhat dangerous method of book selection, but so far (I'm only about twenty pages or so in) I'm enjoying it. Our heroine, Piper, lives in a town of scrappers, people who make their living by collecting the debris from other worlds that falls from the sky on the nights of the full moon...and something is clearly about to happen which will turn her life upside down, but I haven't gotten that far yet.

What I Plan to Read Next

William Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury. I am girding my loins for this one.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

I began with The Red Cross Girls in Belgium, which opens with a capsule summary of Eugenia’s courtship with Captain Castaigne, and you guys, its all missed opportunities all the time. Eugenia aids French soldiers in escaping from the Germans and ends up in jail and nearly dies of some kind of disease...and all the time Captain Castaigne is a million miles away and not involved at all! He doesn’t show up at all till it’s all over! WHAT. What a waste of possible hurt/comfort! But for books about nursing these books are notably low on that.

I was also disappointed by Angela Brazil’s Bosom Friends: A Seaside Story, because the title seemed to promise an epic Anne of Green Gablesian friendship, but in fact it’s about a chance friendship that eventually breaks because one of the friends is actually shallow and silly and abandons her supposed bosom buddy as soon as a more fashionable friend shows up at their seaside resort. For what it is, it’s actually rather charming - the description of the beach hut that the group of children build is delightful - but the title is totally false advertising!

On the other hand, I also read Courtney Milan’s The Governess Affair, on [livejournal.com profile] egelantier’s suggestion, and it is exactly as charming and well done as she said. Unfortunately the library doesn’t seem to have the rest of them (so frustrating!), so I probably won’t continue the series.

Finally, I read Jerome K. Jerome’s Three Men and a Boat, which I also enjoyed in the end, although it took me a bit to get into the swing of things. Victorian comic writing works quite differently than modern comic writing. It’s not so much a matter of one-liners, but rather the cumulative effect of everything building up together. Like this:

Harris proposed that we should have scrambled eggs for breakfast. He said he would cook them. It seemed, from his account, that he was very good at doing scrambled eggs. He often did them at picnics and when out on yachts. He was quite famous for them. People who had once tasted his scrambled eggs, so we gathered from his conversation, never cared for any other food afterwards, but pined away and died when they could not get them.

What I’m Reading Now

E. L. Voynich’s The Gadfly, again on [livejournal.com profile] egelantier’s recommendation, because how can you go wrong with a book about a young man whose one true love is REVOLUTION? He’s just been arrested. On Good Friday. This book, it is not so much with the subtlety, I love it.

Also, if I ever become an evil dictator, I am going to outlaw arrests on Good Friday and possibly the entirety of Passion Week. Why hand the revolutionaries symbols like that? I mean really. This is Evil Dictatorship 101 here.

What I Plan to Read Next

So many books! So many books to choose from! I have one last Angela Brazil, The Princess of the School; I am growing rather tired of her fondness for saddling her school stories with unnecessary mysteries about mysterious foundlings, lost inheritances, etc. I just want school hijinks, damn it!

Alternatively, perhaps Leave It to Psmith. There are entire walls of Wodehouse in bookstores all across England (seriously. WALLS), so I figured I should give him another go.

And I got a whole stack of books at Persephone Books, which specializes in reprinting beautiful editions of unjustly forgotten British women writers of the twentieth (and occasionally nineteenth) centuries. So basically it’s my dream bookstore and I feel rather wistful that I didn’t think of this brilliant idea first. Then again, no one seems to have done this for American writers yet...
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Persepolis, which I think I expected too much from: I’ve heard raves about it, but it didn’t seem all that special to me. I’m wondering if the people who found it totally stunning have just never read graphic novels or histories of revolutions.

I also finished Eva Ibbotson’s A Song for Summer. I should probably just give Ibbotson her own tag, I’ve been reading so many of her books… A Song for Summer reminded me a lot of her book The Dragonfly Pool. Both take place at delightfully bohemian boarding schools in the lead-up to World War II, but The Dragonfly Pool offers a childs-eye-view of that situation, while A Song for Summer focuses more on the teachers.

I should add that this is just a tendency, because A Dragonfly Pool has important teacher characters, and A Song for Summer has important students. One thing I like about Ibbotson’s books is that the adult books have important child characters who are treated like people with thoughts and feelings (which is not true in adult books as often as it should be - not that adult books always need child characters, but if a book has them, they should be treated like people rather than adorable sock monkeys), and the children’s books have adult characters ditto ditto.

A Song for Summer is a bit less warm and fuzzy than some of Ibbotson’s other books. There is at last a happy ending, but by God she makes you work for it this time around. It’s not just that the political situation is bad, but the interpersonal relationships are more complicated than often.

In some of Ibbotson’s books the wrong suitors are almost caricaturish in their awfulness - I’m thinking particularly of Muriel the eugenicist in A Countess Below Stairs - but not so in A Song for Summer. Ellen’s suitor Kendrick is such a sad sack that it’s almost painful to read about him: I didn’t for a minute want Ellen with him, because being around him sounds awful (he thinks spouting off a litany of memorized facts counts as good conversation), but he’s such a sad puppy that I didn’t want to see him suffer anymore, either. “Too pathetic to be lovable” is a hard character trait to read about.

What I’m Reading Now

Tove Jannson’s The Summer Book. I’ve been reading it before bed, which it is perfect for: it’s a very soothing book.

I’m also reading Jo Walton’s My Real Children. I’m still in Patricia’s youth, before the timeline forks. I suspect it will get more interesting once the fork happens?

What I Plan to Read Next

I intend to finish the Benjamin January series, which will clear the decks so I can start Elizabeth Peter’s Amelia Peabody series.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Sherman Alexie’s The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, which I fully expected to include an actual fistfight between the Long Ranger and Tonto. I pictured it kind of like the knock-down drag-out let’s-destroy-your-mansion fight between Kato and Britt in The Green Hornet, except the filmmakers totally cheated Kato out of his victory, whereas obviously Tonto would knock the Lone Ranger’s teeth out.

Suffice it to say that this story does not exist outside of my brain. I feel unreasonably disappointed about this fact.

Also Mary Stewart’s Nine Coaches Waiting, which did not disappoint! My poor powers of description cannot do it the justice of Sarah Rees Brennan’s hilarious review, although I will say that Brennan’s review makes the book sound over the top in a way that it really isn’t. In context, the story seems psychologically plausible in a way that thrillers often don’t, and I think this groundedness is what made me like the book so much. The peril felt real.

I loved the heroine, Linda, with her love of books and her mind stuffed full of poetry - snatches of it drift through her head as she interacts with the world - who is yet sensible, calm, and protective of her nine-year-old charge Philippe. Linda’s affection for Philippe is one of the most charming things about a very charming book, and I love the way Philippe is written, too, because he feels just as real and individual as the adult characters.

Brennan comments that many of Stewart’s other novels have exasperating gothic heroes of the “I will keep huge secrets from you BECAUSE” variety, which is really too bad. I thought Nine Coaches Waiting did a good job hitting all the fun gothic tropes (giant scary mysterious house! luxurious living! mortal peril!) without including the similarly tropetastic asshole romantic lead who will drive me up the wall.

The comments on Brennan’s entry mention Stewart’s Thornyhold, The Ivy Tree, and Madam, Will You Talk as being good, though, so perhaps I will keep my eye out for them. And I’ve been meaning to read The Moon-Spinners, because I want to see the movie with Pola Negri… Any Stewart fans in the house?

What I’m Reading Now

John Steinbeck’s The Pearl. So far, it’s way less scarring than The Dead Ponies The Red Pony! But I wouldn’t recommend it; if you want good Steinbeck, I think The Moon is Down is more interesting and Travels with Charley is more fun. (My friend Micky swears by The Short Reign of Pippin IV, but it has a bit too much of Steinbeck On Gender Roles for my taste.)

I’m also reading Eva Ibbotson’s A Company of Swans, which is like cotton candy in the best way possible. Our heroine escapes her oppressive father by joining a ballet company, which goes to the Amazon, where she meets the lost heir to an estate that she just happened to visit right before she left England!

And of course the heroine and hero are both superlatively excellent people in the way that Ibbotson’s romantic leads always are, which would probably get tiresome as a steady diet but is wonderfully refreshing on occasion. Sometimes I just want to read about marvelously compassionate people (who incidentally dance beautifully) being wonderful to each other.

What I Plan to Read Next

Barbara Michaels’ Houses of Stone. I liked Nine Coaches Waiting so much, I’ve decided to check out some of the other books Sarah Rees Brennan reviewed in her Gothic Tuesday posts. I most wanted to read Trelawny, which sounded the most awesomely ridiculous (mistaken identity twins!), but sadly the library did not have it.

But Houses of Stone has lost literary manuscripts from a forgotten yet brilliant Victorian woman poet, so that should be fun!
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Nothing really. I haven’t read very much this week. :(

What I’m Reading Now

I’m still listening to Sandra Cisneros’ Caramelo. [livejournal.com profile] asakiyume, I think you might like this, particularly if you run into the audiobook: it’s this rich melange of detail, the physical details of the setting, stories about the history of Mexico and family history, and little character details that bring the people to life.

Katherine Addison’s The Goblin Emperor, which I’m not very far in. I need to apply myself to it more assiduously.

Also Rosemary Sutcliff’s The High Deeds of Finn mac Cool, which seems to be the retelling of a loose corpus of stories all wound together in one. I sometimes wonder if this sort of thing is what would happen if someone a thousand years from now tried to bind together shreds of Sherlock, Elementary, Guy Ritchie’s films, and The Great Mouse Detective all in one story. Because it’s all the same story, right? Of course Holmes sometimes becomes a mouse and Watson sometimes becomes a woman and the setting oscillates unnervingly over centuries! From the perspective of a thousand years, one century is much like the other.

What I Plan to Read Next

Rosemary Sutcliff’s Rider on a White Horse.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

A couple more books by Rumer Godden, both of which I enjoyed: The Story of Holly and Ivy, a Christmas book about an orphan girl who finds a doll, and incidentally a home, but mostly a doll - and Great-Grandfather’s House, which is about a Japanese girl who visits her great-grandfather’s house and...I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s not exactly big on plot. She visits her great-grandparents and becomes slightly less spoilt and more thoughtful.

Also An Na’s A Step from Heaven, about a young Korean girl who emigrates from Korea to the United States. I figured that the title was ironic, but I didn’t expect something as relentlessly downbeat as this exploration of the miseries of living under the thumb of an abusive father. There’s a little light at the end of the book, but getting there is exhausting.

Also Jo’s Boys. I think Louisa May Alcott got heartily sick of the whole March family, because at the end of the book she playfully threatens to finish by having a giant earthquake bury Plumfield and all it's inhabitants so no one can ask her to write more about them ever again. Harsh!

What I’m Reading Now

Charles Finch’s The Last Enchantments, which I need to get a move on before it comes due at the library. So far it’s reminding me why I don’t read contemporary realistic adult fiction, because it seems to gravitate toward portraying a petty and unattractive side of humanity.

Oh, and Ivanhoe! I was kind of dreading Ivanhoe because most of the opinions I’ve heard have suggested that Scott hasn’t aged well, but actually it’s going pretty well. I half think the nameless palmer is Ivanhoe himself, but surely if he was, the Lady Rowena would have recognized him - if not Sir Cedric, Ivanhoe’s own father? But maybe going to the holy land left him terribly changed.

I’ve arrived at the tournament! I hope that it’s terribly exciting.

What I Plan to Read Next

The Fall of the House of Walworth: A Tale of Madness and Murder in Gilded Age America. I’m kind of a sucker for historical true crime.
osprey_archer: (cheers)
In one of my Newbery posts I mentioned that Out of the Dust instilled in me a firm prejudice against all books in verse, on the grounds that they too are doubtless repositories of unspeakable misery.

Inside Out and Back Again!” said [livejournal.com profile] asakiyume. “In verse and *not* awesomely depressing!” (She has an excellent review here, which includes a picture of the stunning cover and also quotes from the book - a description of a photo of the heroine’s father, for instance:

How peaceful he looks,
smiling,
peacock tails
at the corners
of his eyes
)

And lo! I have read it, and it is more than merely not depressing: though it’s quite sad at times, it has all the humor and hope that Out of the Dust lacks. (Hope may make the distinction between sad and depressing in books. Must think about this more.)

This is all the more impressive because Inside Out and Back Again has at least as much raw material for misery as Out of the Dust. Our heroine is Ha, a young Vietnamese girl living in Saigon in early 1975. When Saigon falls, her family flees on an overcrowded boat, lands in a series of refugee camps, and ends up in Alabama, where many of her classmates make fun of her while Ha, unable to speak English, fumes in silence and shame.

The neighbor lady offers to give her language lessons, and

makes me learn the rules
I’ve never noticed
like
a, an, and the,
which act like little megaphones to tell the world
whose English
is still secondhand.


Ha points out, pouting, that Vietnamese gets along just fine without any articles, so what does English need them for? Her neighbor gently explains,

every language has annoyances and illogical rules,
as well as sensible beauty.


And, on top of all its other joys, it’s a very quick read. I recommend it.
osprey_archer: (books)
I actually wrote these reviews before I headed off into the wilderness, and it’s interesting looking back on them. I tend to write my book reviews soon after I’ve finished reading, which has obvious advantages, but also means that I don’t usually know how the book is going to sit with me: there are books that grow on me over time, like Rebecca Stead’s When You Reach Me, and books that I enjoyed immensely but remember poorly, like Ally Carter’s Gallagher Girls series.

I liked all these books when I first read them, but the only one that stayed in my mind rather than drifting away is Sherri L. Smith’s Flygirl. And the one book that I read before the trip that really stuck with me, Rumer Godden’s An Episode of Sparrows, I didn’t even write a review for - because I didn’t realize it would. I suppose I ought to rectify that...

ExpandRobin McKinley’s Beauty )

ExpandFrances Temple’s The Ramsay Scallop )

ExpandSherri L. Smith’s Flygirl )
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

The Grey King. It took four books, but finally I understand why people feel such great devotion to The Dark is Rising sequence, because this book was pretty awesome. My friend Dorothea said things would get good when Bran arrived, and lo! she was right.

Also Expandspoilers )

What I’m Reading Now

Have you been yearning for fantasy set in an African-inspired world about a shy girl with vines in her hair who finds out she can fly? If any part of that sounds appealing to you, then I’ve been reading a book that I think you will like: Nnedi Okorafor-Mbachu’s Zahrah the Windseeker.

Dear Reader,

My name is Zahrah Tsami. This is my story. As many of you may know (and some of you may not, for who knows how far this book has come), I decided to write this book because of the stupid photos published in the
Ooni Inquirer....Yes, it was Dari and me in those photos. Yes, I can fly. No, I am not a witch, a jini, or a ghost posing as my living self. I am a Windseeker. And no matter where you’re from, I want you to understand it well.

Sincerely,
Zahrah Tsami


That’s the introduction. Don’t you just want to run out and read it now?

What I’m Reading Next

Probably Sherri L. Smith’s Flygirl, about a light-skinned black woman during World War II who pretends to be white so she can join the WASPs. World War II! Airplanes! Women pilots! ALL THE THINGS.

I have been meaning to read this book forever - this is the summer of reading books I have been meaning to read forever - I should probably get around to Robin McKinley’s Rose Daughter, too. I liked Sunshine very much, although I couldn’t get into the Damar books.
osprey_archer: (books)
Subtitle for this post: Books That Will Probably Be of Particular Interest to [livejournal.com profile] asakiyume.

First, Grace Lin’s Starry River of the Sky, which did not blow me away quite like Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, purely because I had already read Where the Mountain Meets the Moon and therefore had a pretty good idea what to expect: charming retellings and remixes of Chinese fairy tales, which at first seem unrelated but eventually interlace with the overarching plot.

It reminds me a bit of Megan Whalen Turner’s Queen’s Thief book in that way, if the Queen’s Thief books had illustrations. Which, I think we can all agree, would be amazing. Perhaps they could be stylized like ancient Greek pottery...

Anyway, it’s very much “second verse, same as the first.” As I liked the first very much I enjoyed the book, but I hope for a little more branching out in the future.

And second, another book by Ethel Cook Eliot, who wrote The Wind Boy: The Little House in the Fairy Wood, which is even more like unto The House without Windows than The Wind Boy, and not just because both books reference houses in their titles. Like The House without Windows, The Little House in the Fairy Wood features a child - a downtrodden orphan boy who works in a cannery, in this case - who runs away from home to live in a magical wood, where he meets the magical fairy creatures who live in the woods.

And as in The House without Windows, there’s a restless yearning after freedom: there is, for instance, a Beautiful Wicked Witch who expresses her wickedness by keeping creatures in cages. Both books also feature climatic journeys to the seaside, as a sort of ultimate symbol of freedom.

I particularly liked the half-fairy child Ivra, who is the only one brave enough to dance with the snow witches, and hates to go into town because so many people see her - because of her human side - but, because of her fairy half, don’t believe in her, which is in a way worse than not being seen at all.
osprey_archer: (books)
The Addy books are the best written of the American Girl books, I think. The six books tell a complete, tightly woven story. You never get the feeling, as you sometimes do in the other series, that this or that book (charming though it is) could be left out without harming the overall thrust of the series.

And the characters are so much fun! Again, there’s an older single woman - this time much older: M’Dear, the widowed mother of the keeper of the boardinghouse where Addy stays. “I was there the day God made dirt,” M’Dear tells Addy; and the two of them, along with M’Dear’s singing bird Sunny, become friends. (Intergenerational friendships! Hooray!)

The Addy books quite handily thread the needle that we discussed back in the Kirsten books, of presenting an ugly piece of history to children without either whitewashing it or traumatizing them. In that earlier discussion, [livejournal.com profile] anomilygrace suggested that children need hope in their books, perhaps more than adults do, and judging by the Addy books, I think she’s onto something. Back when my mom read the Addy books to me, I was shocked by some of the things that happen to Addy: her father and brother get sold south, the overseer feeds her tobacco worms when her grief distracts her from her work.

But I didn’t feel brutalized by it like I did by, say, Bridge to Terabithia - or for that matter Jacob Have I Loved. Nobody even dies in that book, but it’s nonetheless replete with hopelessness.

The Addy books, on the other hand, skillfully weave hope into their difficult situation. Though Addy’s family is broken up in the first book, they’re reunited by the last, a situation that Porter cleverly makes plausible by having Addy's family discuss running away before Addy's father and brother were sold. They had picked a destination - Philadelphia - so although the family is shattered, they all know where to meet up.

In a lot of the American Girl series, I find on rereading that I’ve forgotten most of the siblings: but I remembered Addy’s. Her good-naturedly teasing big brother Sam reminded me of my brother, and his reunion with Addy stuck with me all these years. It’s a touching, lovely scene, sweet and fun and a little sad, too, because he lost an arm fighting in the war. It’s not untinctured by tragedy. But that touch of bitterness makes the hopeful reunion more sweet.

The Addy series is not only the best written, but also the gutsiest - a fact that is all the more obvious reading them back to back with the Marie-Grace & Cecile books, which mostly sweep prejudice under the rug. The Addy books, in the other hand, face the issue head-on. Prejudice is a sort of background radiation, infecting employment opportunities, parades, ice cream parlors and streetcars. Addy reacts accordingly: "I hate white people," she comments, more than once.

Addy's parents gently try to steer her away from this. It's ultimately self-destructive to focus too much energy on hate, they say; focus on loving your family and our friends. There's a sense threaded throughout the books that everything is not going to be all right, that some things are broken - Addy's brother loses his arm; Addy's friend Sarah has to leave school to help her family earn money - and they're going to remain so.

But despite that, there's a delicate joy in the books as well: Addy's friendship with Sarah, with M'Dear, the scene where she learns to jump rope double dutch. It's an exquisite balancing act.
osprey_archer: (books)
My original review of the Cecile & Marie-Grace series involved five hundred words of flailing about the terrible, terrible illustrations in these books. While this was very cathartic for me, I daresay it would be quite tedious to you, so I cut it. Just know: the pictures in these books are an abomination before the gods of illustration.

The quality of the book as a whole is rather uneven. The final four books feel like the story that they really wanted to tell, while the first two are filler: they tell the same (rather ridiculous) story from the point of view of the two heroines, first Marie-Grace, then Cecile.

See, the two girls are going to different Mardi Gras parties - one for one for white people, one for gens de couleur libres (free people of color) - but, because they were wearing matching fairy costumes, halfway through they switch places with each other and attend the others’ party. Here are Cecile and Marie-Grace standing side-by-side. I feel that someone would notice their switcharoo.

Now, it is perfectly possible that Marie-Grace could be white and Cecile black, and the two of them similar-looking enough that this could work. Walter White, a leader of the NAACP, was considered black despite being blond and blue eyed; and the famous white surveyor Clarence King pretended to be a light-skinned Pullman porter so he could marry a black woman.

So Marie-Grace could be dark - maybe with some Spanish or Italian blood; or Cecile could be quite pale indeed. But of course then American Girl would have been left with the problem of selling two dolls who look very similar, so I can see why they didn’t go with that.

And, less cynically, I can see why American Girl wouldn’t want to make a black character who looks like white. But having made that decision, they should not have hung an important story point - an important story point which they hammer home in two separate books! - on the idea that the two main characters might be mistaken for each other when that clearly makes no sense.

Maybe the fairy costumes had a glamour on them...?

***

[livejournal.com profile] asakiyume asked me, back when I first mentioned the Cecile & Marie-Grace series, how plausible it was that a white girl and a black girl could become friends in the 1850s (real friends, not “you will be my slave confidant!” kind of friends), even in New Orleans, which had unusual race relations.

The answer is that it’s more plausible in New Orleans than pretty much anywhere else in the US at the time. New Orleans had a much larger (and wealthier) population of free African-Americans than anywhere else, and they lived in the same neighborhoods as white people rather than being shunted off to their own quarter. (There was still racism in New Orleans. Cecile runs into it in her first book.) And it’s more plausible in 1850 than it would be later, because the nineteenth century is a tale of a long, slow descent into more and more virulent racism.

This does not perhaps make it massively plausible, but if it was going to happen, American Girl picked the right time and place. (And it’s definitely more possible than Felicity’s horse-thieving antics!)

American Girl has two goals which sometimes conflict: they want to teach girls about history, but they also want to shape a certain view of an ethnically inclusive American identity. I am absolutely in favor of this. But because, historically, American identity has been far from inclusive - there was a time it didn’t even stretch to the Irish - sometimes the two goals clash.

***

Next week: the Addy books! I read them already (I’ll be busy this coming week: I’m going to DC!) and they’re so much fun, I can’t wait to post about them!

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