Howdy! We were supposed to post a review of Spider’s Bite by Jennifer Estep today but unfortunately, we will be unable to do so because the book has yet to reach me in the UK even though Thea has shipped it over three weeks ago. At the moment we suspect that the UPS and the Royal Mail have come together in a Conspiracy to Drive Us Mental. (It is working.) We plan to post the review as soon as we possibly can.

Meanwhile, we decided I should post my review of New Blood instead – as an introduction to our upcoming Steampunk Week.

Title: New Blood

Author: Gail Dayton

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Tor
Publication Date: March 2009
MMP: 512 pages

Stand alone or series: Part of a series but the romance is stand alone

In 1636, the last blood sorceress was burned at the stake. More than two hundred years later, her blood servant Jax has found her successor. Amanusa at first turns down the opportunity to learn what she perceives as an evil art. But she craves justice, and innocent blood cries out for justice.

When Amanusa looses magic on those who’ve harmed her, she must flee for her life across a devastated Europe with Jax, who is inescapably bound to her by blood and magic. Their journey takes them through zones where everything—including magic—has died, zones populated with strange creatures cobbled together of things left behind by the dead.

Needing each other for their very survival, Amanusa and Jax grow ever closer on their journey to discover answers – about magic, blood sorcery, the dead zones, and even love.

How did I get this book: I Bought my copy (but the author sent a copy to Thea when she sent us ARCs of the second book.)

Why did I read this book: I bought this book as soon as it came out. I loved the cover and the reviews have been mostly positive. I kept it aside for a Steampunk week all this time. Yes, I did.

Review:

WARNING! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS!

New Blood is a book I have long desired to read and had great expectations for. I bought it as soon as it came out last year and because I saw it described as Steampunk in a few places (including the author’s blog), I set it aside as a Must Read for an eventual Steampunk Appreciation Week, an event we had been planning for a long time. As we finally set the date for the event ( shameless plug: March 7th – 13th) , New Blood was the first, out of a long list of books, I read for the event. Why then, you must be asking yourself, do I review it before Steampunk Week?

Because this book is many, many things – a Paranormal Romance / Fantasy and a giant mess of frustrating disappointment but not, and I cannot stress this enough, Steampunk.

Because it is not enough to set a book in the 19th century and to have a couple of machines that go clankety clank around and that’s it, let’s call it Steampunk! Woohoo! Not when the book is first and foremost about magic, when the characters know nothing about the aforementioned machines, which means that the technology, if we can even call it that, is not an elementary part of their world – it is something that scares and befuddles the characters because it is something that is anti-magic and unnatural to the point that the book almost reads like an example of anti-Steampunk.

Now that I got this off my chest, what is the book about?

Magic. And truth be told, it starts well enough. It’s Europe, 19th century and there are four types of magic: alchemy, wizardry, conjury, and sorcery and only men are allowed to practice them. The first three are the most commonly used and sorcery, or Blood Magic, has been lost to the world ever since the last known sorceress Yvaine has been murdered. Turns out, Blood Magic has only ever been practiced by women because well, women are used to bleed every month and therefore are less squeamish about it. (Yes, seriously.) A Blood sorceress uses blood magic (by using blood fluids – any of them) to practice magic. They can cure people by riding the blood (it involves making them drink a bit of her blood so is able see inside their bodies for injuries) for example. But Blood magic can also be used to bring justice as the sorceress can ride their blood to see the crimes they committed.

As the book opens, Yvaine’s (the last known sorceress) blood servant Jax – who had been tasked to find her successor – finally finds the woman worthy of the position. And that is our heroine Amanusa. Living all by her lone self, deep in the woods of Romania, Amanusa is a healer who uses the little magic she knows she possesses to cure villagers and is happy to stay where she is. When a man comes out of the woods telling her that she is a Blood Sorceress and he is her servant, her first reaction is to freak out. For starters, women are not allowed to practice magic and the Inquisition might kill her for it. Secondly, everybody knows that blood magic is Teh Eviiiil, blood magicians kill children for their blood; plus, all men are brute rapists, and she can never ever trust Jax, because she fears and loathes men because she has been gang raped and abused for years by the band of anarchists who live in the woods who are also the band of people who killed her entire family.

But soon Amanusa realises that there isn’t much she can do about Jax – he can’t leave. Once he has found her, he is connected to her. If he tries to leave, he ends up always coming back to her door. Then, she decides to hear what he has to say and learns that Blood Magic does not involve killing anyone, much less babies – it is mostly done with her own blood or with blood freely given (and magically stored by Jax, who is like, a familiar) and all of a sudden the prospect of being a Blood Sorceress doesn’t sound that bad especially when she thinks she might get justice after all. Then, the anarchists show up: Amanusa has a deal with them – whereupon they will leave her alone if she concedes to visit their camp when someone is sick. She and Jax have to make a trip and at their camp, she starts to learn about Blood Magic. But first Amanusa needs to ride Jax’s blood so that he can be bound to her as a servant. Please bear in mind, that this has been only a few days after they have met. Amanusa is supposed to be a deeply scarred woman, who fears men and sex, who always thought Blood Magic to be evil, who just met this bloke out of nowhere. So she not only trusts his words but also, she finds that she has to link herself to him by way of blood and the way to do that is to have him drinking a bit of her blood so she can ride it. Now. I can think of a gazillion ways of having someone drinking someone else’s blood and here is a novel thought, it doesn’t even have to involve touching. How about, gasp, a glass? For someone who fears to be touched it looks like Amanusa got over her deep seated scars and trauma very quickly. Behold:

“She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could only watch as he squeezed a bit more blood from her finger and curled his tongue around it, caressing long after the blood was gone. He trailed his tongue down the length of her finger and probed the crease where it joined her hand. She shivered, whether from his touch or his gaze, she didn’t know.
Jax sent his tongue swirling across her palm where blood had never touched and Amanusa let him, lost in the blue of his eye and the shivery sensation of his teasing caress. With one last pulse of his tongue, he pressed a kiss to her palm, curving her hand around his face as if she caressed him in return”.

That was just about the place where things started to get downhill and I still had oh, 400 pages left?

They spend a few weeks in the camp, but they guys want her for a plaything again, she kills most of them (Justice!) and they have to flee. They carry with them a machine that one of the anarchists found (a spider thingy who feels like anti-magic to Amanusa). They are captured by the Inquisition, they escape and end up in Paris where they need to convince the Council to allow Amanusa in – but they don’t want to because all women are horrible, and magic is not something they can do, and Blood Magic is Teh Evil. Meanwhile, the Council is conferring in Paris because evil dead patches that are related to the mechanical insect they have found in Romania and which are spreading to Europe and might well bring the end of the world.

I mentioned that the start of the novel was good enough and it was. The two characters and the setting pulled me right into the book and I thought the two protagonists were very compelling to start with – both being damaged and broken. Their complex relationship of master/servant only serving to extrapolate those problems until they were able to overcome them. But. By God, soon it becomes clear that there is lack of a cohesive character development for both protagonists. Amanusa is too quick to trust Jax, to overcome her sexual trauma and to accept the Blood Magic; and their repetitive internal monologue was almost enough to drive me insane – cut 1/3 of those and 100 pages of the book could have been removed and the book would have been better. There is no reason for the numerous:

Amanusa: “men are evil. I don’t trust them. But I trust Jax. Why? “
Jax: “I am a servant. But she sees me as a man. Did she truly see me as a man?”

And so on and so forth.

My other main problem with the novel was the lack of inherent logic regarding the magic system which in all honesty, made no sense to me. Why only women would do Blood Magic?

The inference that men are squeamish when it comes to blood doesn’t compute – aren’t men the ones to go to war, or to fight in duels and carry out death sentences? Why did it take Jax 200 years to find a successor to Yvaine, more to the point, if Blood Magic was so important to the balance of magic why didn’t she have apprentices? Although the misogynistic view of women with half of the characters in the book running around like lunatics yelling that women are Evil grew tiresome and was ridiculous I do have to wonder if they didn’t have a point when it came to Blood Magic since the last known Sorceress did use to torture Jax and made him be raped to collect Sex Magic (yes, seriously ). So yes, I can sort of see how people would think that Blood Magic was not that good. Since we mention Jax – what is the point of blood servants? If the blood needed is mostly of the sorceress , she is the one with the power, she is the one with the blood, I don’t really see the point of a blood servant, but then again…there would be no book without one.

Then, there was this silly coincidence in which Jax, who did not know his true name for most of the book (he was so old, he suffered of memory loss) suddenly remembers it and realises he has a relative sitting right next to him. Yes, seriously. The ending is a pure melodrama: there is a kidnapping, the villains run around like girls screaming women are evil, only to when faced with one of them, believe her word when she tells them she will do something they ask. Why would they? And then it all ends with the amazing discovery that the bond of luuurve is more powerful than any other bond and then the two protagonists decide to go traipsing to Scotland leaving their friends behind even though she is the only known Blood Sorceress and THE WORLD MIGHT BE ABOUT TO END.

With all this being said, you might be asking yourself why in the world did I keep reading. I have read worse, but much worse in my life and I sustain that the characters are rather likeable so I kept reading in the hope for a good pay off. And it was downright frustrating that their story was not better developed. Alas, you win some, you lose some.

Notable Quotes/ Parts: In spite of the repetitive internal monologuing I quite liked most of Jax and Amanusa’s interactions.

Verdict: A magic system that does not make sense, a romance that had the potential to be awesome but fell flat. Unfortunately, this one misses the mark.

Rating: 4 – Bad but not without some merit

Reading Next: The Warlord of the Air by Michael Moorcock

Title: Untouchable (one of two stories in the Deep Kiss of Winter anthology with Gena Showalter)

Author: Kresley Cole

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Pocket
Publishing Date: October, 2009
Hardcover 436 pages (the novella has about 240 pages)

Stand Alone or series: Part of the Immortals After Dark series but can be read as stand alone

Why did I read the book: This series is my literary crack

How did I get the book: review copy from publisher

Summary: Murdoch Wroth will stop at nothing to claim Daniela the Ice Maiden — the delicate Valkyrie who makes his heart beat for the first time in three hundred years. Yet the exquisite Danii is part ice fey, and her freezing skin can’t be touched by anyone but her own kind without inflicting pain beyond measure. Soon desperate for closeness, in an agony of frustration, Murdoch and Danii will do anything to have each other. Together, can they find the key that will finally allow them to slake the overwhelming desire burning between them?

Review: Kresley Cole’s Untouchable is one of two stories in the anthology Deep Kiss of Winter (the other story is Gena Showalter’s Tempt Me Eternally which I did not read as I am not acquainted with that series) and is set in the Immortals After Dark world. Kresley Cole’s books are my literary crack and I have read all of the novels and novellas in the series. I have enjoyed the first few very much but I am starting to feel a certain boredom and dissatisfaction with the series with the latest instalments. Untouchable has just cemented this feeling.

For all intents and purposes , I should have loved the story. This is the romance between the last of the Wroth brothers, Murdoch and the Valkyrie Daniela known as the Ice Maiden for her Icere (Ice Fey) half and at its heart it is a “Reformed Rake” story, my favourite romance trope. Murdoch was quite the ladies men, never attached to any woman until he became a vampire. One of the things he fears the most is to find his Bride (the vampire’s version of a life-mate) as he can’t think of anything worse than to be shackled to someone for eternity. That makes him absolutely unique in the world they inhabit (for all vampires want to find their Brides) but also amongst the heroes we have seen so far. It also provides some entertainment in itself as he asks those questions I am sure we all have asked at some point about the very idea of “mating”: Is he supposed to feel okay about being mated FOREVER with someone he hardly knows?

Even worse for Murdoch is the fact that Danii, as part Icere , is very sensitive to warm temperatures and is literally, untouchable or else she feels pain. She is hiding in New Orleans with her Valkirye coven because she is the rightful queen of the Icere, whose crown has been stolen and she has been a fugitive for about 2000 years. She has been unable to have any relationships and is very lonely – her reaction to being Murdoch’s Bride is one of relief until she realizes that he is not happy, at all.

And here is where I reach a problematic part of the review, with a conundrum.

Kresley Cole’s books are known for the oversexed characters and plot. Her books follow a recognizable pattern (loads of foreplay, and some conflict, then loads of sex) and that becomes part of the comfort in reading them. You always know what you going to get, in a very predictable manner. This book is no different, the sexing is scorching hot as usual, and is pretty good at that.

BUT, I find myself, as I said above, bored. Although each of Kresley Cole’s characters has individual traits that differentiate them from the characters from the previous books, the journey they make towards the happy ending is a very repetitive one. Without a strong world building in which to set the romance, the books are starting to read the same, every single time. Especially when I compare them to other paranormal romance series such as Nalini Singh’s and Meljean Brook’s; both these series have strong world building and stories that go far, far beyond the sexing. I had hoped Kresley Cole’s would go the same route (what with the Ascension and the Lore) but I lost that hope with the latest instalments.

Even though the conflicts, both internal and external, in this story are interesting to begin with, they come to a resolution, far too easy and fast. For all that Murdoch resists the pull of his Bride still he falls in that predictable pattern: endless pages of foreplay, displays of jealousy-possessiveness and his doubts being pushed aside because hey LOOK , her sex is glistening. Similarly Danii’s storyline with the Icere is solved ridiculously fast especially if you think this has been going on for two thousand years. In a matter of seconds, all that comes to a resolution with a Deus Ex Machina in the shape of an Icere guy who has “I am a future protagonist” written all over his hawt, tormented self.

The “conundrum” and “problematic” comes from the fact that there is nothing NEW here. All of the above happened in previous books which brings me to my point. If the books remain the same, it is I who have come to a crossroads – do I keep reading or do I part ways with the series? I read Romance books for more than the sex, and I think that the Immortal After Dark series, after that initial novelty feel, is not really for me. I do intend to read the next one, Pleasure of a Dark Prince because I have been waiting for that story since book one, but I have the strongest suspicion that that will be my last one.

Notable Quotes/ Parts: I thought his passage was funny – like an inside joke about these books’ tropes:

“Obviously, I need to leave,” she said while thinking, tell me I’m your Bride, and that I WILL be staying. Be an arrogant, possessive Neanderthal vampire! She wanted him to simply inform her that he would never let her go and she would just have to accept that, or whatever domineering misguided trip these manly men always said.

Verdict: If you read this series you know exactly what to expect. All left for you to decide is: is it worth paying Hardcover price to read another similar story that does not progress the main plot at all?

Rating: Well. If you are looking for good romance and hot sex, the story is effective – I would give it a 6. Overall plot is quite weak though – and that is a 4.

Reading next: The Red Wolf Conspiracy by Robert V. S. Redick

Title: The Magicians

Author: Lev Grossman

Genre: Fantasy

Publisher:William Heinemann Ltd (UK) / Viking (US)
Publishing Date: May 2009 / August 2009
Paperback/ Hardcover: 416 pages

Stand Alone or series: Stand alone with rumours of a sequel

Why did I read the book: I have wanted to read the book since it first came out and after so many positive reviews. A lot of reviewers mention this as one of the best of the year.

How did I get the book: Bought it.

Summary: Quentin Coldwater is brilliant but miserable. He’s a senior in high school, and a certifiable genius, but he’s still secretly obsessed with a series of fantasy novels he read as a kid, about the adventures of five children in a magical land called Fillory. Compared to that, anything in his real life just seems gray and colorless.

Everything changes when Quentin finds himself unexpectedly admitted to a very secret, very exclusive college of magic in upstate New York, where he receives a thorough and rigorous education in the practice of modern sorcery. He also discovers all the other things people learn in college: friendship, love, sex, booze, and boredom. But something is still missing. Magic doesn’t bring Quentin the happiness and adventure he thought it would.

Then, after graduation, he and his friends make a stunning discovery: Fillory is real.

Review: I have wanted to read this book for months now. We were supposed to write a joint review and I keep sending weekly emails to Thea asking “so, when can we read The Magicians” – but other reading commitments kept us from finally getting to it. With the end of the year upon us, I felt the urgency even more so I just went ahead and read it. I kind of expected The Magicians to knock my socks off and maybe even make my top 10 of 2009.

Boy, was I wrong. Delusional. The experience of reading this book turned out to be one of the strangest experiences of my reading life. From the very first pages, I felt a mix of anger and downright revulsion towards the book and its main character Quentin; I had the weirdest, most negative reaction and the only reason I kept reading till the end was so that I could have all the information necessary to write this review.

The easiest route to summarise The Magicians is perhaps to say what a lot of reviews already said: this is what Harry Potter or Narnia would be like if their characters were on drugs , or drunk or both. But I would go further: The Magicians is like every Fantasy novel if they were stripped of any warmth, sense of wonder, heroism and replacing it all with what can be interpreted as a dose of “reality”.

Basically, the plot follows the main character, a depressed (god only knows why) guy called Quentin who is a smart, handsome, 17 year old, as he learns that there is real magic in world, just like in the books he loves. Instead of going to Princeton as he was supposed to, he is invited to attend a school of magic, ‘Brakebills College for Magical Pedagogy’ and the story follows his days at the school until he graduates, then has to go back to the real world and then to Fillory, an alternate world out of children’s books.

“Real” is very much the key word here and the fundamental theme of the book: what would happen if there was magic but not a “big bad” to fight? What if there was a hidden world of wonders, of people who had these abilities? What would be the point?

Well, obviously, people would get drunk, take drugs and have sex. Duh. Because there is NOTHING else in the entire wide world that you could possibly do. Because you see, magic is HARD.

The clear attempt of taking the Fantasy and making it less fantastic by adding an element of “reality” to it, in order to tell us that hey, “life is in shades of grey people, there is no black and white” is as trite and lacking subtlety as if the author was trying to do just the opposite. In trying, too hard in my opinion, to infuse this Fantasy with bleakness and edginess, the author removes any and all chance of me, ever connecting with his characters or with the plot.

Going even further with that, I am left wondering about certain aspects of the story. For example: in order to enter the school, all these kids, are taken from their world, without a moment’s notice, to take a test, and should they pass, they get to attend this school which is hidden from the regular world. None of them even blinks when that happens. Later down the road, they get to visit Fillory, a world which up to that point they thought was fictional but they take that in stride and are ready to jump into it and live the stories they read as children.

The assumption made is that since they all like to read Fantasy novels, this new reality comes so easily to them because they are used to the idea of Fantasy – and that to me, was so freaking insulting as a Fantasy reader, I can’t even express myself coherently. It is as though, Fantasy readers can’t tell reality from fantasy and are so immersed in their escapism that well, if ever confronted with the imaginary world, turned real, not one would ever think about it for two seconds. I am left with a very sour taste in my mouth, one that comes from feeling like I was being mocked by the author. Maybe that was not his intent. Maybe he tried to criticise the genre and I am totally missing the point. Given the universal praise this book received it might well be. I do know that it didn’t work for me.

That this book has a “message” is clear to me, though. Even more so when every single aspect of the Fantasy world is unoriginal and lifted from other Fantasy novels. The school is Harry Potter’s Hogwarts; Fillory and its mythology is Narnia down to a “t”. It is as though Lev Grossman didn’t even try to come up with a Fantasy world of his own because he was more interested in a message than in storytelling. This message is more important than everything else that some things are completely glossed over: there is a student who dies in the middle of a lesson and nothing ever comes out of it. The students are at one point transformed into geese and foxes but again, very little comes from this experience; they are completely pointless and there for shocking effect, especially their time as foxes .

The bottom line is this: I absolutely HATE to read books that try this hard to tell me something. Especially when they try to tell me that life is hard. I am alive. I KNOW that. Tell me a story in shades of grey but do so in a less blatant way, please.

Regarding the characters: Taking it a step further from the questions asked above, if a young man is unhappy in his life, what would it take to make him happy? Would living his dream do it? Would discovering that the world he thought was fictional was actually real make any difference? The answer according to The Magicians is, no.

And this is essentially IT: Quentin is a depressed guy, a guy who struggles to find a place in the world, a guy who is full of resentment but who has a sense of entitlement; who is granted his heart’s desire and still, he can’t be happy. And so page after page, we read about this guy in school, with his friends, with his girlfriend whining about how miserable he is. Even when he finds out that the world of Fillory, the world from the books he loves to read is REAL and THERE for him, still he manages to make a mess out of it. Does that make him a flawed, real character? Yes, it does. Do I want to read about him? Hell, noes. He is a total tool.

Because frankly, there is nothing I hate more than to read about a privileged kid (rich, handsome, ultra smart and powerful. Hey, Marty Sue!) constantly whining about his life.

And THIS, THIS is what made me so repulsed. Quentin is my worst nightmare coming to haunt me: he is Holden Caulfield all over again. I have no sympathy for Holden as I have no sympathy for Quentin. From the moment I realised that, The Magicians had no chance with me – this review is every bit a reflection about me as a reader and what I like or don’t like. Catcher in the Rye is one of my least favourite books ever. And The Magicians reminds me a lot of it.

I feel so strongly about Quentin that I almost wished that he was actually suffering from medical depression in which case he could be treated with anti-depressants. I almost wished that everything in this book was happening inside his head. Almost, because really, I couldn’t.Care.Less .

As for the secondary characters, I only really liked Alice, Quentin’s love interest; in fact she might be my favourite character in the book. Flawed, strong, driven Alice, she is ironically, the only one to have called Quentin on his bullshit.

The rest was only there to fill pages with required stereotypes. And I have a huge problem with Elliot, one of Quentin’s friends. You see, Elliot is gay. So then, obviously, he likes to dress up really well, loves to cook and has S/M tendencies and I find that insulting as hell. Not to mention, lazy characterisation.

Having said that: the book is completely readable; I did enjoy his writing and there were turns of phrase that I did really like. And I am happy that I stuck to it and finished the book because toward the end, there is a revelation that makes the story, at least, bearable. Just. But ultimately, and rather unfortunately, The Magicians did not live up to my expectations, and that is to put it very mildly.

Notable Quotes/ Parts:

He had done it. Magic was real, and he could do it.

And now that he could, my God, there was so much of it to do. The glass marble would be Quentin’s constant companion for the rest of the semester. It was the cold, pitiless glass heart of Professor March’s approach to magical pedagoy. Every lecture, every exercise, every demonstrantion was concerned with how to manipulate and transform it using magic. For the next four months Quentin was required to carry his marble everywhere. He fingered his marble under the table at dinner. It nestled in the inside pockets of his Brakebills jacket. When he showered, he tucked it in the soap dish. He took it to bed with him, and on those rare occasions when he slept he dreamed about it.

Verdict: The good writing is not enough to make me like a book that comes with such a blatant, bleak message. The Fantasy world is unoriginal and the main character is unappealing.

Rating: 4 – Bad but not without some merit

Reading next: Going Bovine by Libba Bray

Directed by Chris Weitz
Written by Melissa Rosenberg, based on the novel by Stephenie Meyer
Starring Kristen Stewart, Robert Pattinson, Taylor Lautner, Anna Kendrick
Running time: 130 minutes
Rated: PG-13 (violence and action)

Well, folks, it’s finally here. The movie that ravenous Twilight fans, Robert Pattinson-aholics, teenage girls and apparently suburban moms alike have been awaiting with bated breath.

It’s time for New Moon.

The Twilight Saga has become a full-fledged, international phenomenon. Kind of like the Backstreet Boys or the Macarena. Twilight is massively popular and raked in the most money in terms of dvd sales this year, but it’s also one of those phenomena that lack the universal appeal of, say, Harry Potter. Despite the limited demographic and even though substantial mockage has been made of the Twilight Phenom (check out the awesome SNL Parody starring a brunette Taylor Swift in “Firelight“), it’s an international blockbuster – and the legions of fans busting down doors at midnight tonight and all day tomorrow care not what the cynical critics say! It’s New Moon! Shirtless underage boys on steroids! Chalky emo vampires with bad contact lenses, sparklies, and pixie hair! Cheesetastic lines about endearing, all consuming love!

Now while I’m obviously not a huge fan (Breaking Dawn was amazingly terrible), I’ll grant that Twilight has its own appeal. It’s one of those guilty pleasure, silly, I-probably-shouldn’t-be-watching-this-but-I-can’t-look-away films. So far as adolescent vampire love story films go, Twilight is an entertaining as they come. When I was lucky enough to get invited to watch an early screening of New Moon, I experienced a strange mixture of emotions. My hopes weren’t high by any stretch of the imagination – but I was expecting to be entertained, even if it was on a guilty pleasure level.

Sadly, New Moon just isn’t a very good movie. On any level.

At just over a draggy two hours, New Moon has some moments of intentional humor and genuine sweetness, but these are far and few between – not to mention, they are overshadowed by poor pacing, shoddy direction, and an abundance of unintentionally hilarity.

After a comically bugeyed Jasper (audiences burst into laughter at his “serious face” – no joke):

attacks Bella when she cuts herself opening a birthday present at the Cullens’, Edward decides that woah woah woah, this relationship is waaaaay too dangerous, so he tells Bella that this will be the last time she ever sees him. He lies and says that he’s bored with her and that he’s moving on without her (psh). Bella goes catatonic after the love of her life (at all of eighteen years old!) leaves her, and she has weird bouts of screaming in her sleep, gasping, sighing, morosely staring out her french windows as Chris Weitz decides to use awkwardly dizzying 360 camera techniques to illustrate the passage of time.

Doormat Bella never really gets over Edward leaving – though she does come to rely on best friend Jacob (a ridiculously ripped Taylor Lautner). After he helps Bella to feel human again, promising that he’ll never hurt her the way Edward did, OMG he turns into a werewolf (the curse of his clan, charged with protecting the innocent humans of Forks from the vampires that prey upon them). Jacob’s refusal to talk to Bella leads her to relapse into her funk – and she soon discovers that by taking idiotic, suicidal risks, she’s “gifted” with misty apparitions of her beloved Edward (giving her the very helpful advice “BE SAFE,” and other insipid cautionary remarks before dissolving into inky swirls of poorly CGI’d smoke). Bella eventually takes it too far, jumping off a cliff (for the ultimate rush, ya know), and via Alice’s visions, Edward thinks Bella has died, and decides to go off on a half cocked plan to reveal himself to humans in Italy, provoking the Volturi (a big bad association of vampire granddaddies) to kill him too. Only, Bella didn’t die when she jumped off the cliff, so she and Alice rush to Italy to stop Edward before it is TOO LATE.

Where do I begin with the problems New Moon had? Should I start with the hollow performances, even from the lovely Kristen Stewart (who is a fine actress, but feels sadly drab in this film)? The laugh-inducing choices for certain special effects (did you know that when Misty!Edward appears, his sweet Volvo does too)? The sloppy transitions and hilarious slomo scenes of characters running through the forest (yes, this really happens. Multiple times.)? There’s not a lot that’s very good with this film.

So far as writing goes, the script for New Moon is intensely loyal to the book, and in all fairness does a good job, weaving Bella’s depression with her growing friendship/romance with Jacob, ending in a dramatic encounter at Volturi headquarters. Though, one can’t help but think that one of the film’s greatest weaknesses – especially so far as the Edward fandom is concerned – is how absent Edward is from the film. A welcome surprise, however, is Taylor Lautner’s undeniably brawny Jacob Black, lending a warmth and humanity, an endearing, dogged (hardy har!) love interest for a decidedly wooden Bella.

The interactions between Jacob and Bella are alternately funny and touching, and comprise the best of the films few high notes – a scene where Jacob, Bella and Mike watch a movie on an awkward triple date, a ride home in Bella’s truck with Jacob driving, an almost kiss in the Swan kitchen. Too, the members of the Quileute tribe (or rather, pride) are decently entertaining in their shirtless uniform.

In contrast to the warmth of the werewolves of the Pacific Northwest, the vampires feel trite and, frankly, lame. Something happens with redhead vampire Victoria (who has it out for Bella because…Edward killed her mate and so she must kill Edward’s mate to MAKE HIM PAY!) and dreadhead Laurent because he’s helping Victoria…but that fizzles out into so much boring background noise. Though, I will say Rachelle Lefevre’s red hair looks pretty as it whips around in the forest. Robert Pattinson’s mopey Edward with his stupid hair and scrawny, (sporadically hairy) pale torso emerges late in the movie, giving the impression that he’s hollowly disinterested in the role.

The Volturi (for all five minutes they are in the film – all of which have basically been revealed already in the previews), with their blood red contacts and ornate hair and styling, feel ridiculously silly. In the age old vampires versus werewolves showdown, reimagined in New Moon, werewolves clearly win.

Perhaps the most annoying thing about New Moon and the Twilight Saga in general is how insipid a message it projects – especially to teenage girls. It is not cool for you to go catatonic, severing all ties to your friends and family when a boy decides to break up with you. It is not cool to try to kill yourself repeatedly just so you can experience hallucinations of said boy, warning you to “be safe.” I understand that first love is intense, scary, and passionate. And experiencing those highs and lows are all part of growing up. But it is kind of ridiculous that the prevalent female role model right now is a doormat – a bland, no-personality girl whose idea of a good time is to jump into life-threatening situations in order to feel closer to the boyfriend that left her behind.

Leaving New Moon, I felt as though a literal lunar month had passed since the start of the film. If you’re a Twilight fan, you’re probably going to watch this anyway, regardless of what some reviewer has to say. If you’re on the fence, I’d recommend waiting for this one on rental.

Rating: 4 – Pretty Bad (Although I’m pretty damn sure the box office sales and Twilight fandom will disagree with this assessment)

Title: The Dust of 100 Dogs

Author: A. S. King

Genre: YA (and a mish-mash of Romance! Pirates! History! Reincarnation!)

Publisher: Flux
Publishing Date: January 2009
Paperback: 336 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand Alone

Why did I read the book: The premise sounded awesome and different; the cover and title are amazing; and it generated some positive reviews.

How did I get the book: I bought it.

Summary: In the late 17th century, famed pirate Emer Morrisey was on the cusp of escaping pirate life with her one true love and unfathomable riches when she was slain and cursed with the dust of 100 dogs, dooming her to one hundred lives as a dog before returning to a human body—with her memories intact. Now she’s a contemporary American teenager, and all she needs is a shovel and a ride to Jamaica.

Review: Warning: this review contains spoilers as I don’t think I can address the issues I had with the book without them.

For a brief period time that went from the amazing prologue and lasted for about 100 pages, I thought I was reading a truly spectacular book:

It opens in the 17th century, with a pirate, Emer Morrisey, who is about to kill (and remove the right eyeball of) the Frenchman who has just murdered Seanie, the man Emer loved – just when they were about to end their life of piracy. There is a treasure buried nearby but Emer only cares about the end of her dreams. She did not know that she was about to be killed and cursed by the Frenchman’s lover to live one hundred lives as a dog, before she is able to inhabit a human body again.

Cue more than 300 years later and Emer is reborn as Saffron Adams, a member of a poor family with a mother who has a sad past of poverty and misery in Ireland; a deadbeat father; brother and sister long gone and a younger brother who is a drug addict. Saffron, who carries the last 300 years of memories intact, was incapable to keep her memories and knowledge a secret when she was little which end up making her the girl genius of the family and the one to carry their hopes for a better life. But Saffron, cares NOTHING about it, about this family’s wishes and all she wants is to turn 18 so that she can go away to Tortuga and get her treasure back.

The story alternates between present (Saffron’s narration in first person) and past (Emer’s life, in third person), between Saffron’s struggle to get by and her impatience at her family’s heavy expectations about her and Emer’s horrible, tragic life. Needless to say, the more interesting one is Emer: from her childhood in a small village in Ireland at the time of Cromwell’s invasion when her parents and brother were killed in front of her eyes to being rescued by an uncle who was a bully and who hated her. From meeting her childhood sweetheart – Seanie – and losing him when her uncle sold her to an old French man in marriage to escaping this fate, from living in the streets of Paris to boarding a ship to Tortuga where she is greeted by the Frenchman of the prologue and raped; to eventually turning to a life of infamous piracy complete with a signature move and everything (that would be the eyeball removing alluded to in the prologue). And this is only the beginning.

The Dust of 100 Dogs is a gritty and tragic tale of one girl who is an honest-to-God pirate who kills and maims and steals. The author doesn’t pull any punches and provides much food for thought about the theme of reincarnation. The line between Saffron and Emer is a very thin one, sometimes if actually felt nonexistent, and the issue of “memory” and how much would that influence one’s attempt of a new life is one that kept me thinking for hours after reading the novel.

Thus, the premise is undeniably original and also, extremely ambitious. There is an epic feel to the story but unfortunately that amount of “Epic” cannot possibly fit within the 300 pages of this book. My feeling is that the author tried to embrace the world with very short arms and the execution proved to be also epic as in an epic mess of titanic proportions.

Because, on top of Saffron and Emer’s point of views, we also get others as the author jumped heads: there was a dog, and also sometimes Seanie, and then David (Emer’s First mate) and several chapters from the point of view of a very crazy character, one Fred Livingstone. Plus, interludes with Dogs Facts that present lessons that Emer (or Saffron?) learnt living as a dog, and although most of these lessons are in theory quite interesting and could be applied to humans (which I think was the point of the dog facts) I hardly ever saw Saffron/Emer actually applying those to her life.

And that brings me to another HUGE problem I had with the book; let’s call it the two “M”’s: characters’ Motivations and the exact Mechanics of certain events. For example, the evil uncle. He hated Emer. Why? He was obviously a coward and a bully who mistreated his children and his wife but he had a certain something else for Emer. Again, why? Why did he have to sell her in marriage (M # 1 = Motivation) but most importantly why did it have to be to a French guy? Why did a rich French had to buy a bride from the interior of a war-stricken Ireland? Surely he could find a (willing or unwilling) bride in France? Furthermore, how exactly did an illiterate, poor Irish man find a connection to a rich, French from across the channel? (M # 2= Mechanics). Why couldn’t he marry Emer off to someone close, in Ireland itself? Plot contrivance to separate Emer and Seanie?

Similarly Frenchman number 2, the one in Tortuga, fell in love/obsession with Emer at first sight and spent his life searching for her after she escapes. He then finds her when she is arrested for piracy because he wants to marry her but he needs to teach her a lesson first and leaves her to rot – literally rot (she loses two toes to gangrene) – in prison for ONE YEAR. WHY? Then when he comes for her (what kept him away for so long? I don’t know) he is surprised that she does not look good. Really? What is the point of the entire sting in prison? Another unnecessary plot contrivance to add another layer of “tragic” to Emer’s life?

Finally, there are Saffron’s motivations. I never really got the feeling that Saffron was someone new. She was always “Emer” to me. Quite possibly because every single interaction with her parents were punctuated with her imagining she was hitting, maiming, torturing these people whom she thought were pathetic losers she needed to get away from. There is not a shred of sympathy for her parents even though her mother has had a very similar life to her own in Ireland. Which is ok, if you think that this is pirate EMER. Then close to the ending, when she finds out that her brother sold all of her stuff, and she feels bad and she muses about yearbooks, pictures, books, jewellery with sadness. Then she says she is surprised she didn’t care more – but when did she ever??? I was told that but I was never ever showed that. Never once did I feel that Saffron cared about her life as Saffron…which in turn ended up making me not to care about either.

Plus, I feel the book needed some heavy editing. The beginning, where we read about Emer’s childhood is very richly detailed and quite interesting and it lasts and it lasts, page after page, after page. The ending, the eventual confluence of all the storylines, past and present coming together, the explanation of who Fred Livingstone is, Emer and Saffron uniting, the return of Seanie? Two/three pages, not nearly enough as resolution. I am not even going to mention problems I had with certain parts of dialogue or the preachy nature of Saffron’s thoughts about her brother’s drug addition, as I think it is enough already.

I ended up, unfortunately, very disappointed with The Dust of 100 Dogs. There were quite a few things I really did enjoy about the story but sometimes it is not enough to have a damn good idea, you also have to know what to do with it.

Notable Quotes/ Parts: The Amazing Prologue:

Prologue – The Dust of One Hundred Dogs

With one last, almighty roar, the Frenchman fell to his knees and died. When the smoke cleared, Emer kicked him to make sure he was dead. Bent on one knee in the moonlight, holding his head with her left hand, she took a marlinspike and removed his right eyeball with relative ease. She rolled it in the sand next to his head and shoved the spike deep into his empty socket.

Placing her pistol gently into her waistband, she looked toward the sea.

“I curse you!” she screamed at the dark water. “I curse you for all you gave me and for all you pilfered! I curse you for the journeys you begin and the journeys you end! I curse you until I can’t hate you anymore! And I scarcely think I will ever hate you more than on this wretched day!” Her fair hair stuck to her face, wet with sorrow and surf, and her hand-embroidered cotton blouse clung to her, stained with her lover’s blood.

Turning again to the two dead bodies, she retrieved the shovel from underneath Seanie—Seanie, her first and only love. She limped back to the clearing. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, she sat down on the edge of the hole and talked to herself.

“There was only one reason to stop all of this poxy business.” She turned and looked at the distant dead. “What worth is a precious jewel now? Damn it! In all these years, over all this water! And I end up a fool with a lap full of precious nothing.”

She dragged the two crates into the hole and began to cover them quickly, concerned that the Frenchman’s reinforcements would arrive at any minute. She buried the shovel last, on top, and used her hands to fill the remaining depression, covering the sand with sticks and dead leaves.

Returning to the scene of the dead men, she lay down beside Seanie, placed her head on his chest and sobbed.

“It’s like two different lives in the same bloody day.”

Through her sobs, Emer heard footsteps. A voice boomed from the darkness, making her jump. She scrambled to her feet and reloaded her pistol.

“Foul bitch!” he began, in island-accented English. “You have meddled in my life for too many years! I’m sure you didn’t know every whore in these islands heard him scream your name a thousand times! And me, too! Now look at him! Dead!”

Emer saw the man emerging from the tree line, his hands hidden. She had seen him before, on Tortuga, and on board the Chester. It was the Frenchman’s first mate.

“You will see!” he yelled, jumping from the brush. “You will see how true love lasts! You will see how real love spans time and distance we know nothing of!”

He rushed forward, then, shaking a small purse toward her. From it came a fine powder that covered Emer’s hair and face. She reached up and wiped her eyes clear, confused.

“What are you at?” she asked, spitting dust from her lips.

He stood with his arms and face raised to the night sky. “I curse you with the power of every spirit who ever knew love!” he screamed. “I curse you to one hundred lives as the bitch you are, and hope wild dogs tear your heart into the state you’ve left mine!” He began chanting in a frightful foreign language.

Still brushing the dust from her hair, Emer took aim with her gun and fired.

As she watched the man fall, she felt a burning prod in her back and stumbled sideways—long enough to see that the Frenchman had miraculously not been all dead, and long enough to see that he was covered in stray pieces of the strange dust his first mate had thrown at her.

She tried to fall as near to Seanie as possible, and managed to get close enough to reach out and grab his cold hand. She took her dying breath lying halfway between her lover and her killer, covered in the dust of one hundred dogs, knowing she was the only person on the planet who knew what was buried beneath the chilly sand ten yards away.

Additional Thoughts: I REALLY like the book trailler for this one:

Verdict: The premise is amazing but the execution left a lot to be desired which I think could be explained by the author’s inexperience with novels (she has published short stories before that). There are very, very good ideas here and I would love to see what she writes next.This one though, is quite the mess.

Rating: 4 – Bad but not without some merit

Reading Next: The Hero of Ages by Brandon Sanderson

Title: Never Slow Dance With A Zombie

Author: E. Van Lowe

Genre: YA (Horror)

Publisher: Tor Teen
Publishing Date: August 2009
Paperback: 256 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand Alone

Why did I read the Book: It is a YA Zombie book. Given my love for YA books, and my new-found appreciation for the Zombie , I thought “why not”

How did I get the book: It was a gift from Graeme

Summary: Principal Taft’s 3 Simple Rules for Surviving a Zombie Uprising:

Then Margot and Sybil arrive at school one day to find that most of the student body has been turned into flesh-eating zombies. When kooky Principal Taft asks the girls to coexist with the zombies until the end of the semester, they realize that this is the perfect opportunity to live out their high school dreams. All they have to do is stay alive….

Review: Margot Jean Johnson is a nobody. She does not belong in any of her high school’s cliques. She is neither a cheerleader, a Goth nor a geek. She goes through life, with her best friend Sybil wishing for things she does not have, dreaming about having a boyfriend and becoming as popular as her nemesis, Amanda Culpepper as per the manifesto she wrote before starting high school. None of it has come to fruition so far and Margot feels like a failure.

Then, at the night of the school’s Carnival something happens. All the students that were in attendance – that would be everybody except for Margot and Sybil, which just goes to show how much of a nobody they both are – became zombies. Slow moving, dim-witted, flesh-eating zombies who… still attend school and go about their daily lives as before, mimicking what once was. Margot and Sybil are at first completely terrified and want to do something, to report the case to the authorities but then Principal Taff makes them an offer they can’t refuse: to hang on at least till the end of the semester (when he is set to become district supervisor) and by doing that, they basically have free reign of the school as long as they pretend they are zombies too.

All of a sudden, all of Margot’s dreams become a reality: she becomes Chairman of the Homecoming Committee, Chairman of the Prom Committee, of the Yearbook Committee, Head Cheerleader , etc, etc. All is fine, for the first time in Margot Jean Johnson’s life and by god, she will enjoy it. She embraces the new school order and so what that other kids have become zombies and don’t really know that she is miss popular now? So what if her best friend hasn’t got as many titles as she did. Hey, she can EVEN have a boyfriend and a date for the prom, if she manages to train zombie Dirk Conrad not to eat her when they are slow dancing.

But then they find out that a couple of geeks have not turned into zombies either – and that includes Baron, the guy who has a crush on Margot – and are looking for an antidote. Will Margot help or hinder their efforts?

There are two ways to look at this book and I am not sure in which camp I fall. Never Slow Dance with a Zombie is either a crap fiesta or a work of genius. It is so completely over the top that I found myself alternating between being thoroughly amused or totally detached.

The premise is quite quirky and if you accept it, I think there is fun to be had. Margot’s arc is interesting in which she goes to a very dark place throughout the story, somewhere between Denial and Crazy. It sort of reminded me of Heathers, with its brand of black comedy.

I do think that in order to fully appreciate the book, and really get into it, the reader has to accept far too much. We have to accept that not a single parent has realised that their kids has turned into a zombie. That none of the teacher’s wives or husbands have either. I understand that this can be seen as social commentary and criticism but I think it takes the idea that zombies replicate what they did when alive and extrapolates way too much. I am supposed to accept for example that Dirk’s mother has not noticed that her husband has turned into a zombie only because he is sitting in front of the TV as he always did. I GET the criticism but come on: he is green. He eats only raw meat. He does not speak. At some points, I felt like the author expected too much of me and I found out that I didn’t have it in me to give it back. Like for example, how the two geeks assumed the whole thing was a virus and tried to use DNA to create an antidote. Hummmm okay. How. Exactly?

I nearly put the book down several times but I kept going because I wanted to see the how and the why. The book picks up towards the end when the villainous villain explain The Plan and Margot has to flee the zombies around the school as song from the 80’s play in the speakers and do you see what I mean? Over the top and camp and yet, somewhat amusing. I can’t help but to digress about ideas and how they would work if they had been exercised in a different medium: I rather think that if Never Slow Dance With a Zombie were a movie with say, Amanda Bynes, or an episode of Buffy, it would actually be pretty damn cool.

Having said that, the book is framed by two letters, one that opens the book and another that closes it that may or may not point towards an unreliable narrator. I guess it rather depends on the reader, which is actually what I want to say in this review: your level of enjoyment reading this book is completely up to you and what you are willing to put up with. How is that for helpful?

Notable Quotes/ Parts:

“I sat alone in my room contemplating the future. The darkness lounging in my soul was happy my classmates were all zombies. It told me there was nothing anyone could do about it. We have to get on with our lives. It promised me a new life where I was no longer the girl on the sidelines passing the time, observing the good life from the outside instead of living it. I was about to become the queen bee of Salesian High.
It told me to enjoy it.”

Verdict: Totally Silly and camp but with some social commentary as any good Zombie tale ought to be. I don’t think this is a book for everybody though, as a lot of suspencion of disbelief is required. Even though I was ok with the premise (otherwise I wouldn’t have picked it up) ,there was a lot more to it that I did not like.

Rating: 4 – bad but not without some merit (I guess I do know which camp I fall into.)

Reading Next: Taste of Tenderloin by Gene O’Neil.

Title: Soulless

Author: Gail Carriger

Genre: Romance, Horror/Fantasy

Publisher: Orbit
Publishing Date: September 29, 2009
Paperback: 384 pages

Stand Alone or series: Book one in a planned series, titled The Parasol Protectorate.

Summary: (from amazon.com)
Alexia Tarabotti is laboring under a great many social tribulations. First, she has no soul. Second, she’s a spinster whose father is both Italian and dead. Third, she was rudely attacked by a vampire, breaking all standards of social etiquette.

Where to go from there? From bad to worse apparently, for Alexia accidentally kills the vampire — and then the appalling Lord Maccon (loud, messy, gorgeous, and werewolf) is sent by Queen Victoria to investigate.

With unexpected vampires appearing and expected vampires disappearing, everyone seems to believe Alexia responsible. Can she figure out what is actually happening to London’s high society? Will her soulless ability to negate supernatural powers prove useful or just plain embarrassing? Finally, who is the real enemy, and do they have treacle tart?

SOULLESS is a comedy of manners set in Victorian London: full of werewolves, vampires, dirigibles, and tea-drinking.

REVIEW:

We are doing something different with this here review: instead of our usual joint template, we are going with a more laid-back layout, due to our mixed feelings concerning Soulless. Warning: There may be some very MINOR spoilers ahead!

Ana’s Take:

Soulless was one of my most anticipated reads of 2009 ever since I heard about it towards the end of the last year. The setting is Victorian times with steampunk elements, with werewolves and vampires, a quirky spinster soulless heroine who can cancel the aforementioned creatures’ supernaturality (yay, new made-up word) and whose “power” would lead her to be a major player in the supernatural world. For all intents and purposes, I was supposed to absolutely adore this book. Even the very manner in which I came by to own an arc of it was, to me, an indication that this book and I were meant to be: I was on Twitter one day, back when folks were at the BEA and Sarah from the Smart Bitches, Trashy Books tweeted that she was in line to talk to the author, I tweeted saying “OMG I SO want her book” and Sarah, whom I have never met, nor exchanged emails with or anything, offered to get me a signed copy and mail it to me. (seriously, how awesome is that?) . I got the book and kept it until last week when it was the time to read it.

I opened the book and started to read. It begins with our intrepid heroine, Miss Alexia Tarabotti who is a half-Italian, dark haired, somewhat ugly, spinster (I could feel something stirring at the back of my mind) sitting alone in a room trying to eat treacle tarts when she is attacked by a vampire. Her first reaction is to think how inappropriate it was to be attacked so and how the tarts were going to be wasted like that (a warning signal started to sound in my ears), then a fight ensues and she kills him with her trusted parasol. Before I could recover from the shock of that revelation, a man walks into the room, one Lord Maccon who was described as a huge, gruff man who could not abide Alexia’s logic and their dialogue is replete with half bickering half attraction.

At that very moment, I felt like I was struck by lightning.

Because, if you remove the “vampire” from the equation and replace the character names with “Amelia” and “Emerson,” you have Elizabeth Peter’s Amelia Peabody set up right there! From the characters’ physical description, to Alexia’s quirkiness, to the H/H dynamics, DOWN TO THE TRUSTED PARASOL.

I had a moment of utter befuddlement then. I sent Thea a flurry of emails in which I went through a Grief Cycle. First it was Denial: “This can’t be happening.” Then, it was Anger: “I can’t believe this. Down to the trusted parasol??????” Then it was Depression: “I so wanted to love this book, Thea,” and finally, Acceptance: in which I decided to resume reading. Because of the premise of the soulless character, because of my expectations, I decided to carry on. I hoped that the characters would grow on their own, that the story itself would be sufficient to nullify this first impression.

I read another 200 pages of it. I really tried to get involved in the story but two things prevented me from doing so. One, every time Alexia thought or spoke I had Amelia Peabody’s voice at the back of my mind. I am aware of being completely unfair here – she is not EXACTLY like Amelia, but her quirkiness is close enough, familiar enough for me not to be comfortable with it. Plus at some parts it felt SO forced. The success of this book relies heavily in the reader’s ability to fall in love with Alexia’s originality – but she is not an Original to me. I don’t know. Maybe other people who read Amelia Peabody would like Soulless because it reminds them of Peabody.

The other point that made me step back and not enjoy this as much: there is a lot of romance here. Like, a LOT. I have no problem with romance, heck it is my favourite genre and even in other genres, whenever there is romance , I am happy. But the spine of the book says: Horror/Fantasy. And there is no HORROR in this book at all. Yes, there are Fantasy elements but in my not so modest opinion, Soulless was completely mislabeled. This should be Paranormal Romance. The mislabeling makes me angry: what is wrong with labeling a book for what it is? If you are publishing something that is clearly Paranormal Romance, OWN IT. The worst thing is this: I can see that people who like Paranormal Romance and would completely enjoy Soulless will give this a pass and not pick it up because of the Horror/Fantasy label!

Having said that, if I like romance why did it prevent me from liking this? Because there was one scene where Alexia and Maccon have been captured, are locked in a cell, were given one hour to live and they decide that it was the best time for making out. COME ON.

That was when I realised that I was predisposed NOT to like this book from the get go and decided to put it away. It made me sad, but I was aware that perhaps I was not being fair. I needed a second opinion, preferably from someone who also loves Amelia Peabody. I needed Thea. And so I sent the book to her.

Thea’s Take:

As Ana’s said before me, Soulless was a book we were BOTH very excited about (in fact, I’m the one that alerted Ana’s attention to said book). I was more than a little jealous when she told me she received an ARC, but I waited patiently for my turn with the book. And then, when Ana finally started to read it, the emails started to pour in. Ana was completely dejected and let down – and she desperately needed a second opinion. And, thus, she immediately sent the book to me after she could not finish it. At this point, I was very nervous, and had brought my reader expectations down a whole bunch. But, I was willing to give Soulless a fair shot.

And…the result? I’m left with mixed feelings.

On the dominant side of these mixed emotions is a firm agreement with Ana. Alexia Tarabotti is indeed very much Amelia Peabody, right down to the physical descriptions: long, unruly dark locks, a lack of self-esteem in the appearance department, darker tanned skin, the generous curves so out of vogue with the current fashions, and of course, the Parasol. If you’ve read Elizabeth Peters’ Amelia Peabody books, you will recognize this immediately. Heck, even the names are similar, phonetically: Alexia Tarabotti vs. Amelia Peabody. Perhaps Ms. Carriger is a huge fan of Amelia’s – I know that both Ana and I certainly are! – and this was an homage of sorts. But there’s a difference between homage and that uncomfortable too-close sensation, and unfortunately, Alexia inspired the latter in me. Keep in mind, there’s also Lord Maccon who is every bit Emerson Radcliffe to Alexia’s Amelia. He’s growly and loud and brawny and attractive, and of course, completely taken with Alexia’s pigheaded, logical nature.

In itself, this isn’t too bad – I found that I could keep reading despite some disappointment in the originality department. But then…other things started to pop up. Other Amelia-isms, for example:

‘Alexia!’ Lord Maccon groaned his frustration. Miss Tarabotti realized that the earl’s use of her given name indicated a certain degree of irritation on his part.
~ from Soulless

versus

‘Forget Ramses,’ Emerson said. ‘I insist, Amelia, that you tell me what is worrying you.’ Despite his smile he was not in good temper with me; his use of my proper name indicated as much. ‘Peabody,’ my maiden name, is the one he uses in moments of marital or professional approbation. With a sigh, I yielded.
~ from Lion in the Valley

It’s more than a little bit distracting, and I could immediately understand Ana’s frustration with the book. I have to concur with Ana’s claim that the lynchpin of Soulless is in the quirkiness and originality of its heroine, Alexia, and the awkward affections of Lord Maccon. And I’m cool with trying to emulate Amelia Peabody’s quirky narrative. BUT, unfortunately, the sparkle of the dynamic between Alexia and Maccon is not nearly so vibrant when you’ve seen it before – and done much better, even – with Amelia and her dear Emerson.

There were also a number of stylistic and plotting things that bothered me. Alexia’s heritage as a half-italian with tanned skin and a prominent nose and ample bosoms were on a constant loop throughout the book; the hideousness of Miss Ivy’s hats were also emphasized at every appearance of the character; the vampire Lord Akaldama’s flamboyance was flared at every possible occasion. In fact, this is what bothered me the most – more so than the Amelia similarities, Soulless suffered from EXCESS. The repetitiveness of the same descriptions, the excessive discussion of the clothes so and so was wearing, or anytime Lord Akaldama opened his mouth to speak (every other word was italicized, and punctuated with some silly endearment like “sugarplumb!“).

Too much.

Also, thematically, Soulless suffers from this excess. As Ana mentioned above, the fantasy/horror label is something of a misnomer – this is much more of a paranormal romance, with fantasy elements (not so much any horror, at least, not in my opinion). And it is a damn shame because doubtless, the eager fantasy and horror fans who have been waiting for this book or who decide to give it a shot will be scratching their heads, and the romance readers who are more likely to love this book will bypass it entirely!

Also, there are the steampunk fans to take into consideration. You may have seen that Soulless is also marketed as a Steampunk novel, and this is, in my opinion, one of the most egregious flaws.

There is really nothing steampunk about it. Yes, there is an appearance of ONE dirigible, but it’s in the periphery, as two characters are walking in Hyde Park. There’s an automaton, and some dramatic steam powered machines and theories at the end of the novel, but it none of it seems necessary or integral to the plot in the slightest. There’s no reason why this could not have simply been a Victorian Era novel. Not to mention, Soulless tries to blend Vampires, Werewolves, a Victorian B.P.R.D., AND Steampunk all in a single book! It’s a little too much (again, the excess), and though not impossible to pull off (see Mike Mignola’s Hellboy), it’s a tall order and just doesn’t work here.

Instead, the sparse and shakily integrated steampunk elements come across as trying to take advantage of a burgeoning new market, as opposed to having artistic integrity to the novel. And it’s a shame, because the paranormal element was actually quite intriguing. Which brings me to my final point…

Now, it appears like Ana and I have been ragging on this book for an entire review. Well, we have. BUT while it is important to note these weaknesses, I have to say that Soulless is not without its strengths. Even though I found myself less than impressed with the writing, the mislabeled genre, and the eerily familiar characters, I cannot deny that there was something in this novel that kept me reading. I think that the paranormal aspect of the book was fascinating – I loved the idea of a “soulless” protagonist who has the ability to nullify supernatural powers with a single touch, and the history behind the vampires and werewolves and their full integration into English society (even if Ms. Carriger didn’t quite pull this off believably). I wish that Ms. Carriger focused less on trying to integrate the unnecessary steampunk elements into the book, less on the repetition of descriptions and character quirks that felt forced, and instead focused on this brilliant premise. I loved the idea of an octopus being the moniker of a zealous anti-supernatural faction. While I thought that certain passages were awkward and clunky, and that neither Alexia nor Maccon come off as entirely genuine (Alexia’s use of certain anachronisms, such as:

“Huh, she thought. I do not buy it. I definitely do not feel protected.“

…were jarringly out of place with the time period, and Lord Maccon’s “Scottish” heritage never really felt genuine either), I still felt drawn to these characters against all odds. I love the Amelia Peabody and Emerson-type dynamic, so even this paler imitation was admittedly fun.

And, most importantly, I finished the book.

Now keep in mind, I also felt a compulsion to finish the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer, and those certainly were not good books. But the point is, there’s something there. Ms. Carriger, like Ms. Meyer, has the ability to keep a reader wanting to read the book. And, given the good ideas that were buried underneath the disappointments and less-than-impressive writing, I think there’s something worthwhile here, and Ms. Carriger can only improve as an author. So, I will be picking up the next novel – I can’t help myself.

Rating:

Ana: DNF

Thea: 4 – Bad, but not without merit / 6 – Good, with reservations It’s a schizophrenic rating for me because on the whole, the novel had serious problems. BUT there’s promise in there, and I’ll be reading the next book just to see where it goes.

Reading Next: Well of Ascension by Brandon Sanderson

Title: Tender Morsels

Author: Margo Lanagan

Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult

Publisher: Knopf Young Adult (US) / David Fickling Books (UK)
Publication Date: October 1998 (US) / July 2009 (UK)
Hardcover: 448 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novel

Why did I read this book: Tender Morsels has achieved a lot of buzz online – not only has it been nominated for a number of SFF awards, it also seems to stir up some controversy concerning its Young Adult label. So, when offered a copy of Margo Lanagan’s novel, of course I accepted! I had to see for myself what exactly this fairy tale retelling was all about…

Summary: (from amazon.com)
Tender Morsels is a dark and vivid story, set in two worlds and worrying at the border between them. Liga lives modestly in her own personal heaven, a world given to her in exchange for her earthly life. Her two daughters grow up in this soft place, protected from the violence that once harmed their mother. But the real world cannot be denied forever—magicked men and wild bears break down the borders of Liga’s refuge. Now, having known Heaven, how will these three women survive in a world where beauty and brutality lie side by side?

Review:

Tender Morsels has me stumped. On the one hand, it is a lushly written novel about horrible things, and I can only marvel at Ms. Lanagan’s storytelling skills and her ability to craft such a beautifully cruel fable. On the other, I have to admit that while this book was powerful and well done, I didn’t like it. It’s with these contradictory emotions that I set out and attempt to write this review, so please, bear with me (bad pun, apologies).

This provocative young adult novel is a retelling of the brothers Grimm collected fable of Snow White and Rose Red – which is not to be confused with the other Grimm Snow White (of the wicked sorceress queen, seven dwarves and poison apples). In Snow White and Rose Red, two sisters are raised by an impoverished widow in a wooded cottage. One winter’s night, a bear knocks on their cottage door and the family invites him in, beating the snow from his thick fur and accepting him as a dear friend for every night that winter. There’s also a dwarf in this tale, who gets himself stuck in strange situations by his glorious, long white beard. The two girls help free the dwarf time and time again, but he is ever ungrateful for their meddling. The last time the girls see the dwarf, the bear is with them – and the dwarf, enraged and terrified tries to flee the hulking, angry beast. The bear eats the dwarf and thus breaks the evil enchantment that has been placed on him, for the bear is actually an ensorcelled prince, transformed into the guise of a bear after the dwarf stole his gold. Snow White marries the Prince, and Rose Red marries his brother – and they all live happily ever after.

Margo Lanagan’s take on the fable is decidedly less happy. In the outskirts of a small town, Liga Longbourne lives alone with her father, who rapes and abuses her. Liga, completely estranged from the outside world under her father’s strict rule, endures this isolated, terrible life until her thirteenth year when she realizes the painful thing she’s expelling from her body is a stillborn baby. After two forced abortions from her father’s remedies (courtesy of the local mudwitch), Liga decides to hide her latest pregnancy, desperate for a companion of her own. When her father suddenly dies in an accident, she finds herself completely alone for the first time in her life, and gives birth to a beautiful, healthy and fair complexioned baby girl. Unfortunately for Liga, five town boys have seen her – without a man, with child, and therefore fair game – and they brutally rape her in her cottage. Unable to take any more cruel reality, Liga tries to kill her innocent child as an act of mercy, and then kill herself – but she’s stopped by an act of magic. To spare Liga the cold, unfair world she has lived in, the magic grants her an alternate reality where she can raise her daughters – for the gang rape has left her pregnant once more – in safety and peace. Everyone in Liga’s new world is kind and understanding, from the townspeople to the animals, and for many years she and her two daughters, the elder Branza (for her fair complexion and mild manners) and younger Urdda (for her dark coloring and wildness) live a happy, sheltered life.

Of course, things can never stay so picturesque forever. A greedy dwarf with the help of the same mudwitch of Liga’s past creates holes into Liga’s paradise world, gathering and stealing treasures to make him rich in the ‘real world’. Through the tears he has made between worlds, a man dressed as a Bear for the town’s ceremonial night stumbles through to Liga’s cottage, only he has transformed into a true Bear. “Bear” becomes a cherished friend to Liga and her two toddler daughters, and in turn, Bear falls in love with the kind and gentle mother. But one summer day, Bear disappears, stumbling back into the real world on the same night that he had disappeared, as though his time in Liga’s world has been a dream. Urdda, headstrong and eager for her own adventure, later follows the path that Bear took and years later is able to find a more powerful witch to bring Liga and Branza to her in the real world – and once again, Liga must confront the cold reality of the world she has left behind, and the consequences of raising her daughters in a dream land.

As you can see, Tender Morsels is a far cry from a bedtime story of beautiful princesses, fairy rainbows and kindred animals. Within the first 100 pages, incest, rape, and child abuse are brutally inflicted on young Liga, heroine of this novel. Some readers may take issue with the heavy subject matter, but I did not, especially since Ms. Lanagan handles this well without sensationalizing or going into graphic detail. The harsh truth is that incest, abuse and rape are realities that many young adults and teens experience, and Ms. Lanagan tackles these realities in a bold, effective way. Similarly, the quality of writing in Tender Morsels is undeniably strong. Each of the characters speaks in a unique dialect, and Ms. Lanagan’s prose is lush and evocative, conveying both beauty and pain in equal measure. More than that, Ms. Lanagan writes characters with an acute understanding of their emotions and dreams, crafting a cast that thrums with life.

When a girl of fourteen wants a thing – when she has wanted it all her conscious life; when she senses it near and bends all her hope, and all her will, and all her power to it – sometimes, sometimes her self and her desires will be of such material that worlds will move for her. Or parts of worlds, their skins particularly, will soften to her pressure, and break in a thousand small and undramatic ways, so that she may reach through, so that what seemed a wall reveals itself to be only thought of a wall, or a wall constructed of bricks of smoke, mortared with mist. There is a smell to such workings, and Urdda smelled it here and now at the rim of the bear-scent, as if someone had held a flaming brand near that bear-fur so that it began to singe and smoke and reek.

No, I certainly cannot fault Tender Morsels for any deficiency in writing – for it is a beautifully crafted story.

But, at the end of the day, for all the beauty of Ms. Lanagan’s writing and for the rich and believable characters she creates with the weary Liga, the innocent Branza and the headstrong Urdda, I simply could not like the story I was reading.

I’m of the firm belief that no subject matter is “inappropriate” for teens, or for any literature, for that matter. The weighty issues that begin Tender Morsels are not the reason why I could not connect with this book. Rather, my emotional limbo is mostly a product of two main factors – the question of stereotyping, and the question of cruelty.

First, there’s the question of stereotyping. Of the two daughters, Branza is the Snow White character – she’s pale and fair, beautiful, gentle and completely meek. Branza loves her mother’s dream world, she never causes any trouble, she’s friend to all animals, and she’s completely mild and agreeable. Then, there’s Urdda, the Rose Red character. In contrast to her fair, perfect sister, Urdda is dark complexioned (it is mentioned earlier in the book that one of the boys who gang raped Liga is a foreigner whose face looks “sooted”), and temperamental, and altogether wildness personified. She’s also the selfish sister, the one who demands to know answers and who brings her family out from their quiet, protected dream world. This dichotomy of the fair skinned diligent good girl, against the dark skinned, willful wild girl bothers me. It’s a stereotype as old as the fairy tale Tender Morsels is retelling, but translates poorly at least to me, as a reader. Branza, the white, the untainted and the dutifully unquestioning is rewarded, while Urdda with her dusky complexion and demanding, inquisitive nature is the one who suffers because of her wildness. And this too blends into my next reason for discomfort with the novel:

There’s also the question of cruelty. Not the rape and other acts inflicted upon Liga – but rather the cruelty that the author inflicts on her in the last third of the book. I could argue that the entire last third or so of the book is completely unnecessary, as this is where the book fell apart (for me). Liga is the protagonist of the story. It is with Liga’s struggles that we begin Tender Morsels, and it is by her strength in raising two girls born of horrible, unspeakable circumstances that the novel takes root and blossoms. But in the ending of the book, I cannot help but feel that a cruelty of the greatest, most unforgivable kind is enforced on Liga as a character, for purposes of literary shock value. I do not wish to explicitly spoil, but simply will say that by the end of the novel, I felt betrayed and emotionally exploited. I’m all for bittersweet stories or those with unhappy endings, but this ending was unnecessary and reenforced my discomfort with character stereotypes. Liga, for all that she has been through and endured for her daughters is still tainted, broken Liga. Her untouched daughters – especially the dutiful and pure as snow Branza – are the ones who receive the happy ending.

So, I’m at a loss to truly assign a grade or rate to Tender Morsels. The book is unquestionably powerful and well-written, but certain facets of the story left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. While I did not particularly like this book and will not in all likelihood read it again, I feel like I accomplished something by reading it. And I encourage others to give it a try, to form your own opinions.

Notable Quotes/Parts: Here’s the official excerpt, from the first chapter:

Liga’s father fiddled with the fire, fiddled and fiddled. Then he stood up, very suddenly.

“I will fetch more wood.”

What’s he angry about? Liga wondered. Or worried, or something. He is being very odd.

Snow-light rushed in, chilling the house. Then he clamped the door closed and it was cozy again, cozy and empty of him. Liga took a deep private breath then blew it out, slowly. Just these few moments would be her own.

But her next breath caught rough in her throat. She opened her eyes. Gray smoke was cauliflowering out of the fireplace, fogging the air. The smell! What unnamable rubbish had fallen in the fire?

She coughed so hard she must put aside the rush mat she was binding the edge of and give her whole body over to the coughing. Then pain caught her, low, and folded her just like a rush-stalk, it felt, in a line across her belly, crushing her innards. She could hardly get breath to cough. Sparks that were not from the fire jiggled and swam in her eyes—she could not see the fire for the smoke. She could not believe what she was feeling.

The pain eased just as abruptly. It let her get up. It gave her a moment to stagger to the door and open it, her insides dangerous, liquid, hot with surprise and readying to spasm again.

Her father was halfway back from the woodpile, his arms full. He bared his teeth at her, no less. “What you doing out?” White puffs came with the words. “Get back inside. Who said you could come out?”

“I cannot breathe in there.” The cold air dived down her throat and she coughed again.

“Then go in and don’t breathe! Shut the door—you’re letting the smoke out. You’re letting the heat.” He dropped the wood in the snow.

“Has the chimney fallen in? Or what is it?” She wanted to step farther out and look.

But he sprang over the logs and ran at her. She was too surprised to fight him, and her insides were too delicate. The icicled edge of the thatch swept down across the heavy sky, and she was on the floor, the door slammed closed above her. It was dark after the snow-glare, the air thick with the billowing smoke. Outside, he shouted—she could not hear the words—and hurled his logs one by one at the door.

She pressed her nose and mouth into the crook of her elbow, but she had already gulped smoke. It sank through to her deepest insides, and there it clasped its thin black hands, all knuckles and nerves, and wrung them, and wrung them.

Time stretched and shrank. She seemed to stretch and shrink. The pain pressed her flat, the crashing of the wood. Da muttered out there, muttered forever; his muttering had begun before her thirteen years had, and she would never hear the end of it; she must simply be here while it rose from blackness and sank again like a great fish into a lake, like a great water snake. Then Liga’s belly tightened again, and all was gone except the red fireworks inside her. The smoke boiled against her eyes and fought in her throat.

The pains resolved themselves into a movement, of innards wanting to force out. When she next could, she crawled to the door and threw her fists, her shoulder, against it. Was he out there anymore? Had he run off and left her imprisoned? “Let me out or I will shit on the floor of your house!”

There was some activity out there, scraping of logs, thuds of them farther from the door. White light sliced into the smoke. Out Liga blazed, in a dirty smoke-cloud, clambering over the tumbled wood, pushing past him, pushing past his eager face.

But it was too late for the cold, clean air to save her; her insides had already come loose. She could not run or she would shake them out. Already they were drooling down her legs. She must clamp her thighs together to hold them in, and yet walk, and yet hurry, to the part of the forest edge they used for their excrements.

She did not achieve it. She fell to her knees in the snow. Inside her skirt, so much of her boiling self fell away that she felt quite undone below the waist, quite shapeless. No, look: sturdy hips. Look: a leg on either side. A blue-gray foot there, the other there. Gingerly, Liga sat back in a crouch to lift her numbing knees off the snow. The black trees towered in front of her, and the snow dazzled all around. She heaved and brought up nothing but spittle, but more of her was pushed out below by the heaving.

She crouched, panting. From her own noises she knew she had become some kind of animal; she had fallen as low as she could from the life she had had before Mam died. Everything had slid from there, out of prosperity, out of town, out of safety, when Mam went, and this was where of course it ended, with Liga an animal in the snow, tearing herself to pieces with the wrongness of everything.

With one last heave, her remaining insides dropped out of her. She knelt over their warmth, folded herself down, and waited to die.

But she did not die there. The snow pained against her forehead and her knees, and the fallen mass of her innards began to lose its heat in the tent of her skirt.

She tried to lift herself off it. At first her knees would not unbend, so she tipped herself forward onto her front . . . paws, they felt like, her front claws. And hoisted her bottom up from there.

“Oh, my Gracious Lady.” Her voice sounded drunken and flat. Between pink footprints, her innards lay glossy and dark red. Her feet were purple, blotched yellow, weak and wet with melting pink snow.

She should go back to the house—that was all she knew. And so she labored towards it, top-heavy, slick-thighed, numb-footed, and hollow, glancing behind as if afraid the thing would follow her, along its own pink trail.

Da snatched the door open as soon as she touched it. He stood there, hands on hips. “What’s a-matter with you?” The air around him was clear and warm; in the crook of his arm, the fire flowed brightly up around the new logs. Would he even let her in?

Additional Thoughts: Though less known than its Disney-popular character of the same name, the tale of Snow White and Rose Red is making some appearances in the literary world. First, there’s the more easygoing retelling from young adult author Patricia C. Wrede (whose Enchanted Forrest novels were some of my favorites as young reader), titled Snow White and Rose Red:

Snow White and Rose Red live on the edge of the forest that conceals the elusive border of Faerie. They know enough about Faerie lands and mortal magic to be concerned when they find two human sorcerers setting spells near the border. And when the kindly, intelligent black bear wanders into their cottage some months later, they realize the connection between his plight and the sorcery they saw in the forest. This romantic version of the classic fairy tale features an updated introduction by its editor, Terri Windling.

And, of course, there’s the brilliant re-imagining of the two sisters in Bill Willingham’s ongoing comic book, Fables.

You can check out our Joint Review of Fables Volume 1: Legends In Exile HERE. (And though I haven’t reviewed all the current graphic novels and issues, rest assured, they are wonderful)

Verdict: On an intellectual level, on an aesthetic level, Tender Morsels is a beautiful gem of a novel. It’s written well with compelling characters, and with an original take on an old fable. For that alone, I would give the novel an 8. But as for a deeper, emotional experience? I could not bring myself to like this novel, and certain simplistic stereotypes as well as the unnecessary cruelty of the ending left me feeling hollow and exploited as a reader. Going with my gut, I’d give the book an emotional rating of a 4. So where does that leave me and the novel?

I’m cheating and including both ratings – and I strongly encourage all readers to give Tender Morsels a read and to form your own opinions. I’d be delighted to read your thoughts on this provocative novel.

Rating: 8 – Excellent for the writing; 4 – Horrible for the emotional exploitation.

Reading Next: The Devouring and Soulstice by Simon Holt

Title: Apocalypse 2012

Author: Gary Jennings, Robert Gleason & Julius Podrug

Genre: Speculative Fiction, Thriller, Historical-Fantasy

Publisher: Tor/Forge
Publication Date: June 2009
Hardcover: 384 pages

Stand alone or series: Book 3 in the Aztec series, but can theoretically be read as a stand alone novel.

Why did I read this book: I have been fascinated by the Maya ever since I met these early astronomers in the seventh grade. They had the concept of zero. They accurately recorded the length of the lunar cycle to within 0.00027 of our current measurements. They played sweet ballgames and built majestic cities, and, oh yeah, practiced all kinds of crazy human sacrifice. They also predicted the end of the world in 2012 (matching the predictions of numerous other cultures and ancient civilizations)…how could I resist this book?

Summary: (from amazon.com)
In ancient Mexico, the “End-Time Codex”–prophesizing the world’s end in 2012–is entombed. A young Aztec-Mayan slave tells us its story.

A thousand years later scientists discover the End-Time Codex. While struggling to decipher it, they realize their own age mirrors Tula’s. Can they crack the 2012 code and save their world from Tula’s deadly fate?

Review:

Apocalypse 2012 follows two parallel timelines. In 1000AD, the young Coyotl is one of the captured “Dog People,” taken hostage by the Toltecs. Because of a star constellation tattoo on Coyotl’s stomach, he is recognized by his captors as a stargazer, and his abilities are unparalleled. Soon Coyotl rises from lowly slave to King’s adviser, but finds himself enlisted in a struggle to prevent the power and blood hungry priests from seizing control of Tula. The King believes in the truth of the stargazers, and Coyotl rushes to complete the most comprehensive codex ever recorded without the priests’ knowledge. For more than just the future of Tula is at stake – Coyotl’s sightings not only predict the end of his civilization, but of the world in a far distant future.

Running parallel to Coyotl’s story is one of catastrophic proportions in 2012. A string of environmental catastrophes are occurring, and Earth is on the precipice of certain annihilation. NASA scientist and former professor of the US President Raab, Dr. Monica Cardiff presents these terrifying findings to the President’s Advisory Board with even more grim news – something is headed on a collision course for Earth, guaranteeing an extinction event for the planet. The same events nearly gripped Earth in Coyotl’s time, and Dr. Cardiff believes that only with the lost codex can humanity even hope for a way to save itself. Two of her finest students along with a mercenary team are in the Yucatan, evading the Mexican cartels that will certainly kill them if found, looking desperately for the last part of the codex that could save the planet…

From the synopsis, and upon reflection after having read this book, Apocalypse 2012 sounds like a blast. Engaging ideas, a pretty decent historical landscape, and apocalyptic flare – what more could a girl ask for? Unfortunately, Apocalypse 2012 fails on almost every conceivable level. The ideas behind the story are fantastic, and Coyotl’s storyline is engaging enough. However. The writing is atrocious. The characters, especially those in the modern timeline, are so flat you could scrape them off a griddle with a spatula. But Apocalypse 2012’s most grievous offense is the fact that THE APOCALYPSE NEVER HAPPENS! (Note: I refuse to spoiler tag, because this is essential knowledge for anyone that decides to pick up this book expecting an apocalyptic thriller)

I repeat: the apocalypse – the thing that the book is titled for – NEVER HAPPENS.

The book abruptly ends before any of the cataclysmic events Cardiff and the Presidential stiffs discuss at length ever happen. If that’s not false advertising, I don’t know what is.

Without the promised apocalypse in this so-called apocalyptic novel, Apocalypse 2012 is a sort of bumbling thriller novel. Coyotl’s world is sufficiently detailed, bringing to life the Toltec-Mayan landscape with images of thriving urban centers and blood drenched step pyramids. Though the writing is cringe-worthy and frankly bizarre for most of the book (for example, in one oddly placed sex scene Coyotl’s enormous manhood unleashes a tsunami of multiple ejaculations, drenching the poor girl he’s with – but this is only after they have both spanked each other to feel like they are no longer slaves), the Toltec storyline is far more interesting than the modern timeline. While Coyotl’s sexual prowess and stargazing skills are at least entertaining, the modern counterparts are yawn inducing, especially the story following the two lesbian grad students hunting for the codex in the wilds of the Yucatan. Apocalypse 2012 suffers from an identity crisis – it leads up to an apocalypse by the end of the book but doesn’t show it, and though the historical fiction is entertaining (if poorly written), it doesn’t really serve any purpose to the apocalyptic theme of the novel. We follow the struggles of a young slave made astronomer as he tries to survive the vindictive cruelty of the Toltec priests…and what significance that has for the modern timeline is pathetically contrived. Why are these codecies so important? If an asteroid or comet is going to hurtle into the planet, how will finding a codex stop this from happening?

It simply does not compute.

I finished the book, but was really struggling most of the way. And with that said, I cannot recommend this novel.

Notable Quotes/Parts: Here’s an excerpt from the first chapter, for those who are interested.

One-World, 1001 A. D.

Of our entire band, only two others survived: Tenoch, who lay on the ground unconscious—thanks to a towering, muscular warrior who had clubbed him into bloody oblivion—and Desert Flower.

Emerging from the forest, a ninth man walked through the camp—an elderly dignitary who had not participated in the fray.

His clothing confirmed his importance among his people. His loincloth was richly embroidered in vivid shades of red and green and yellow, with sparkling gems delicately weaved into the cloth. Hanging from knots were tiny bells of gold.

His mantle was long, falling from his shoulders almost to the ground. As colorful as his loincloth and as costly, it was lavishly decorated and fringed with gold.

He was at an age in life when most men no longer marched with an army unless their role was planning as opposed to leading warriors into battle.

As he stood over me and stared down, I knew what he was looking at: the star patterns tattooed on my lower belly and painted with black dye on my white loincloth.

“Who put these drawings on you?” he asked.

He spoke Nahuatl, the same language as the Aztecs, though his diction and accent were different from ours.

“I painted the ones on my loincloth.”

“Why?”

The question stumped me. I had never thought of why I had drawn them. I gave him the answer that came to my mind. “It’s what I see in the sky at night.”

Kneeling next to me, he examined the scars on my abdomen, fingering the pattern of scars.

“Where did you get these designs?” he asked.

The words were spoken almost in a whisper.

“I don’t know,” I told him, truthfully. “They were on me when they found me.”

“Who found you?”

“The Clansmen—”

“Dog People found you? Where? When?”

“I was found when I was a babe. In a basket, next to a river.”

The nobleman stood up. “Do not hurt this one,” he announced to the warriors.

Suddenly I felt a chill, and a shadow fell over me. A startlingly tall, shockingly muscled warrior had come up beside me silent as the grave. Possessing a hawk’s nose, wide flaring cheekbones and blood-streaked shoulder-length hair, black as a raven’s underwing, he was an imposing specimen.

He wore the close-fitting loincloth and white padded-cotton shirt of a warrior, but his shield and helmet told me he was far more important than a mere commander of what appeared to be a small force—only eight soldiers plus the elderly nobleman. The warrior’s shield bore the image of a jaguar, and his headdress included the actual head of a jaguar as well as the brilliant green and red plumes of rare birds.

Jaguar Knight.

I had never seen an actual knight, but I knew from cooking-fire talk that the Toltec had three orders of knighthood: Jaguar, Eagle, and Coyote. The Coyote Knights were in charge of the Toltec forces that guarded its northern border, the one it shared with us Dog People. The Jaguar Knights guarded the king.

What was a Jaguar Knight doing so far from his king?

Who was this man?

Glancing up at him, I was surprised to find his eyes were . . . kind.

He was the man who had subdued my tormenter, Tenoch.

“What is happening, Citali?” he asked.

Additional Thoughts: After finishing the novel in a haze of confusion and anger (I wanted the apocalypse to happen, dammit!), I did a little research online. As it turns out, Gary Jennings (the credited creator of the novel) passed away in 1999. He was the author of the Aztec series (Aztec, Aztec Blood, Aztec Autumn, etc) which were very popular for the well-researched nature of the stories, and for the brilliant, unflinching nature of his writing. After his passing, Robert Gleason (Jennings’s former editor) and Junius Podrug (writer of fiction and nonfiction) decided to carry on the Aztec series. Apocalypse 2012 is their third book together.

I think this explains a whole lot.

Verdict: Poorly conceived, badly written, and without an apocalypse in sight, Apocalypse 2012 simply was not my cup of tea. Perhaps historical thriller fans, or those who have enjoyed Gleason & Podrug’s earlier efforts will enjoy this novel, but I cannot recommend it.

Rating: 4 Bad, but not without some merit – and this is a pretty generous rating.

Reading Next: The Awakening by Kelley Armstrong

Welcome to yet another Guest Dare – the July edition. For those new to the feature, our Guest Dare is a monthly endeavor in which we invite an unsuspecting victim to read a book totally outside of their comfort zone.

This month’s guest is Liz (A.K.A The Liz) from the wonderful UK-based blog My Favourite Books which she runs with hubby Mark. Liz revealed that her most dreaded genre was Sci-fi and we promptly suggested that she should read Hyperion by Dan Simmons, one of Thea’s all time favorites. Liz agreed at first, but could not carry on (I will let her tell you all about it) and offered to read Principles of Angels by Jaine Fenn instead and since Thea recently reviewed Consorts of Heavens (a book in the same series), we said yes.

So, ladies and gentlemen , The Liz and her review of Principle of Heavens (and a giveaway).

Title: Principles of Angels

Author: Jaine Fenn

Genre: Sci-fi

Publisher: Gollancz
Publishing date: 12 Feb 2009
Paperback: 320 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand alone

Summary:Khesh City floats above the surface of the uninhabitable planet of Vellern. Topside, it’s extravagant, opulent, luxurious; the Undertow is dark, twisted and dangerous. Khesh City is a place where nothing is forbidden – but it’s also a democracy, of sorts, a democracy by assassination, policed by the Angels, the élite, state-sponsored killers who answer only to the Minister, their enigmatic master.

Taro lived with Malia, his Angel aunt, one of the privileged few, until a strange man bought his body for the night, then followed him home and murdered Malia in cold blood. Taro wants to find the killer who ruined his future, but he’s struggling just to survive in the brutal world of the Undertow. Then an encounter with the Minister sets him on a new course, spying for the City; his target is a reclusive Angel called Nual.

Elarn Reen is a famous musician, sent to Khesh City as the unwilling agent of mankind’s oldest enemy, the Sidhe. To save her own life, she must find and kill her ex-lover, a renegade Sidhe.

Though they come from different worlds, Taro and Elarn’s fates are linked, their lives apparently forfeit to other people’s schemes. As their paths converge, it becomes clear that the lives of everyone in Khesh City, from the majestic, deadly Angels to the barely-human denizens of the Undertow, are at risk. And Taro and Elarn, a common prostitute and an uncommon singer, are Khesh City’s only chance . . .

Review:

Hi Ana and Thea – thanks very much for having me! Here’s my review of Principles of Angels, after I chickened out of reading Hyperion by Dan Simmons. My poor non-sci-fi-loving brain could not take it!

I picked up Principles of Angels as it’s been sitting on my bookshelf for ages now. Receiving the DARE from Ana and Thea clinched it. Not only did I have to read it for my own blog’s Summer Reads List, I get to come and play outside of my own sandpit for a change!

I will be the first to admit that I am not a fan of science fiction writing, hence the dare, but I have been told to amend my ways because I am losing out on some very good books out there.

I acquiesced to this and fell into Principles of Angels with great abandon. I can highly commend Ms. Fenn’s writing style. You couldn’t fault her creating two very engaging characters, Elarn and Taro. I was probably more interested in Elarn than Taro as I felt her character had been better developed and held more intrigue than Taro, the boy-whore.

The contrast between the two characters works well – Elarn is a renowned singer; she is graceful, competent, a lady, people like being around her. Taro on the other hand is rough, coming from the Undertow, whilst his speech patterns reflect this, as does his approach to life, where he is prepared to do anything to survive, even joining a gang and becoming addicted to drugs. Something else that I couldn’t quite wrap my head around was the language used when spoken, especially some slang bits. Instead of giving me a feel of the city, it’s social standing and the more dodgy characters and places in the novel, I felt alienated and I couldn’t bother figuring out what they meant as I had no frame of reference to work form.

I found myself hugely confused about Khesh, the City – it is almost a third mysterious character in the novel. Just enough information is given about why it is suspended above the arid world of Vellern. The City reminded me of every single stereotype you ever heard of when it comes to boomtown America or thirties Bangkok – anything could be had, several times over, even perversely, for a price. Tourists leave their staid homes to revel in Kesh’s apparently lawlessness where assassinations are the rule and Angels are highly respected for their skill and status within society. I found that the Topside was less well described compared to the Undertow but then realised after the fact that this is evident in Elarn and Taro’s characterisation.

The plot felt a bit slow at times and I found myself skipping certain sections as I was in danger of putting the book to the side as it just wasn’t holding my attention. I thought it was maybe because there was too much exposition when it came to the two characters, you get really up close and personal with especially Taro’s life and although it’s not a problem in most cases, he just doesn’t do that many exciting things! I came away thinking that the novel could entirely have been written from Elarn’s perspective and it would have been a completely different piece of work.

I am very much aware that I am very torn about Principles of Angels. I did enjoy reading it, but I didn’t love it enough to want to immediately pick up the second novel, Consorts of Heaven which, by all counts, is not a follow-up of Principles, but a complete standalone novel.

I would therefore like to offer the following: a copy of both Principles of Angels and Consorts of Heaven to the first person in the UK to email me at: myfavouritebooksatblogspot@googlemail.com . These books are not for me, I will freely admit that and they need a new home. This offer is open for one day only. If there are no takers, I’ll give the books away to a charity shop.

I’d give Principles of Angels 4.5 out of 10 stars.

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Thank you Liz for being brave and trying a book outside your comfort zone – and we are sorry that it didn’t work for you!

Next month in the Guest Dare: We dared Angie from Angieville to read Mr Impossible by Loretta Chase.