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

Title: The Last Will of Moira Leahy

Author: Therese Walsh

Genre: Fiction (Paranormal)

Publisher: Shaye Areheart Books
Publishing Date: October 2009
Hardcover: 304 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand alone

How did I get the book: Review copy from author

Why did I read the book: I don’t usually read “fiction” but I thought the cover was SO striking and the blurb so interesting that I had to say yes when the author offered us a copy.

Summary: A LOST SHADOW
Moira Leahy struggled growing up in her prodigious twin’s shadow; Maeve was always more talented, more daring, more fun. In the autumn of the girls’ sixteenth year, a secret love tempted Moira, allowing her to have her own taste of adventure, but it also damaged the intimate, intuitive relationship she’d always shared with her sister. Though Moira’s adolescent struggles came to a tragic end nearly a decade ago, her brief flirtation with independence will haunt her sister for years to come.

A LONE WOMAN
When Maeve Leahy lost her twin, she left home and buried her fun-loving spirit to become a workaholic professor of languages at a small college in upstate New York. She lives a solitary life now, controlling what she can and ignoring the rest—the recurring nightmares, hallucinations about a child with red hair, the unquiet sounds in her mind, her reflection in the mirror. It doesn’t help that her mother avoids her, her best friend questions her sanity, and her not-quite boyfriend has left the country. But at least her life is ordered. Exactly how she wants it.

A SHARED PAST
Until one night at an auction when Maeve wins a keris, a Javanese dagger that reminds her of her lost youth, and happier days playing pirates with Moira in their father’s boat. Days later, a book on weaponry is nailed to her office door, followed by anonymous notes, including one that invites her to Rome to learn more about the blade and its legendary properties. Opening her heart and mind to possibility, Maeve accepts the invitation, and with it, a window into her past. Ultimately she will revisit the tragic November night that shaped her and Moira’s destinies, and learn that nothing can be taken at face value, as one sister emerges whole and the other’s score is finally settled.

Review:

I am kind of lost on how to start this review. The Last Will of Moira Leahy is undeniably a good, solid debut novel although one that does not come without its flaws. But I guess I am rushing into the conclusion without even writing an introduction.

Maeve Leahy is a 25 year- old language professor who has closed herself off life ever since she lost her twin sister Moira 9 years ago. She has a strained relationship with the parents, specialty her mother whom she barely speaks with; she hasn’t returned home for years, refuses to play music which once was her heart and soul; she also avoids to think about the past or to consider a present and a future with Noel, her best friend who- could- be- something- else. For all intents and purposes Maeve is frozen in time, unable to look back, and remember, grief-stricken.

Then one day, whilst visiting an auction house, she sees a dagger that reminds her one her family had when they were little (and played pirates) and bids on it. The antique is in fact, a Javanese Keris, a sort of dagger said to possess special properties.

Once in her possession, strange things start to happen: someone leaves her weird notes urging her to remember ; a book with more information about the Keris is left at her office and an invitation to go to Rome to see a man who could have answers about the weapon. More insidious that these though, are the memories which start to crack her careful walls…..of music, of laughter, of … Moira.

Maeve then decides to take a chance and goes to Rome where she is met by Noel. There, they investigate the origins of the Keris, are pursued by someone who has “villain” branded on his forehead and eventually end up talking about the feelings they have for each other.

The story alternates between Maeve’s present, first person narrative and flashbacks to the past, from Moira’s point of view detailing the sister’s relationship from childhood to teenage years when tragedy occurs. Just how much tragic it is, we don’t get to see until very late in the story but yes, tragic is quite the perfect word for it. It is in these flashbacks that we learn of the twin’s deep connection and love; how very close they were with even a made-up language but also how very different they were; a difference which is continuously addressed by their mother in an attempt to make them unique individuals but which may well prove to be as much as a problem as if they were seen as the same. Then there is a boy and deceit and things turn really, really sour.

There are quite a few different elements in The Last Will of Moira Leahy, sometimes even too much. Family issues, the twin’s connection, the fact that Maeve is a musical prodigy; the plot itself is a mixture of mystery, and romance and suspense with added elements of supernatural and mysticism. Although most of them were woven seamlessly in the story and even the paranormal aspects, to my surprised worked, I think that perhaps, the author tried to do too much with the story and it just felt excessive to me. For example, on top of everything, there is ALSO the fact that Noel was in search of his mother who was a sufferer of abuse and perhaps only a bit crazy. The villain was way too villainous and that was a thread that interrupted the flow of the story.

But the main point is this: stripped to its bare essentials –a woman, suffering the loss of her beloved twin, having to look back at her past and simply remember so that she is able to open up to her own future – the story is effective, haunting, beautiful even. Maeve and Moira story is the painful, sad story of two flawed people trying to make the best out of their lives. Even the parents, especially their mother, were worthy of compassion. In fact, compassion and forgiveness are two themes central to the story. And Maeve and Noel’s romance totally pleased the romance addict in me. Therese Walsh has undoubtedly a lot of talent – although The Last Will of Moira Leahy was not everything I had hoped it would be, I envision a brilliant writing future for her.

Notable Quotes/ Parts:

“I lost my twin to a harsh November nine years ago. Ever since, I’ve felt the span of that month like no other, as if each of the calendar’s thirty perfect little squares split in two on the page.”

Additional Thoughts:

There is a great scene between Noel and Maeve in Rome when they go to the church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin and visit the famous Bocca de la Verita or the Mouth of Truth. It is said, that if you are a liar and put your hand inside the mouth , it will be chopped off. The moment in the book is a special moment of bonding between them when they first speak of truths to each other. The scene reminded me of two movies that I love, Roman Holiday and Only You. Remember those?

Unfortunately, as much as I love all of these, I suffer of something called Nitpickiness for I think that these scenes are actually impossibilities. Details, you see….they are the devil. Santa Maria in Cosmedin is a church that has odd opening hours, it is almost never open in the evenings and it has a closed gate after it is closed. It is also a church plagued with tourists, with buses parked outside at all hours and a long, looooooong line of tourists waiting to take a picture with their hands in the mouth. More often than not, chances are, you will have just about say, two seconds to take a picture before having to move before the next tourist moves in. There is no way, a long conversation could be held whilst standing there.

I know this, because I have been there more than 5 times. Sometimes I really do wish to just be able to let go and accept poetic licence.

Verdict: The Last Will of Moira Leahy is haunting, sad but with an eventual hopeful ending. Although the story has its excesses that made for an uneven read, the book is still an overall solid, effective debut work.

Rating: I am having a hard time rating the book. On one hand, the essence of the sad story, the characters, the evocative writing were great ,I would give it a 8. But the excesses, some of the details, are kind of too much, and I would give it a 6. On the whole, I think it stands right in the middle:

7 – very good

Reading Next: Deep Kiss of Winter – Anthology

Title: The Road Home

Author: Ellen Emerson White

Genre: Young Adult, Fiction, Historical

Publisher: Scholastic
Publication Date: 1995
Paperback: 469 pages

Stand alone or series: Can be read as stand alone but is the 5th book in a series about the Vietnam War (read the Additional Thoughts for more information)

How did we get this book: Bought

Why did we read this book: A month back, we had the lovely Angie of Angieville over here for a Guest Dare – and wouldn’t you know it, she Dared us right back! The Road Home is one of Angie’s all time favorite novels from one of her favorite authors, so naturally, we were very excited to give The Road Home a read. It took us a shameful amount of time to actually read the book (we’re blushing right now), but better late than never, right?

Summary: (from Amazon.com)
Rebecca, a young nurse stationed in Vietnam during the war, must come to grips with her wartime experiences once she returns home to the United States.

REVIEW:

First Impressions:

Ana: When Angie dared us to read this book, I admit that I trembled inside. The idea behind the “Dares” is to make people read outside their comfort zones – little did she know that this book fit the idea to a “t” . I HATE war stories. Hate reading them with the force of a thousand hurricanes because every time I read a war story, every time I watch a war movie, I am reminded of the worst, the most stupid thing civilization ever created. Bearing that in mind, it is rather shocking that I LOVED The Road Home. It is a dark, gritty, almost unbearably sad book; it is also a beautiful character-driven book, with a wonderful protagonist and a heart-warming love story.

Thea: I have to agree with Ana – I was a little nervous going into this read. This isn’t the type of book that I’d normally pick up of my own volition (though I have read and loved war novels before – The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien especially comes to mind). In many ways, The Road Home reminds me of my middle/high school required reading – I’d begin the assignments with low expectations, but once I got into the rhythm, I inevitably ended up really enjoying these novels. Regardless of my fears and prejudices going into The Road Home, I knew Angie loved it – and her taste has rarely steered me wrong before! And, of course, I ended up loving The Road Home. It’s a beautiful insight to the Vietnam War and its aftermath through the eyes of a brilliant, layered protagonist.

On the Plot:

Rebecca Philips is close to the end of her Vietnam tour – as a lieutenant nurse she has witnessed the worst of the war: deaths, injuries, the very waste of life. She has done unspeakable things, seen friends die, suffered wounds and is on the brink of collapsing of exhaustion. Only painkillers, beer and Michael’s – the soldier whom she recently met – letters keep her going. Surely when she goes home, things will get better, won’t they?

Ana: The plot of The Road Home is quite straight forward and very, very simple – it is about this nurse Rebecca who is suffering of PTSD which starts during the war itself. It opens:

On Christmas morning, Rebecca lost her moral virginity, her sense of humour – and her two best friends. But, other than that, it was a hell of a holiday.

Rebecca’s struggle to cope with the horrors of war, with what happened to her and her friends and ultimately with The World is what moves the novel making it an essentially character-driven novel. In other words: nothing really HAPPENS in the way of plot.

Divided in two sections, The War and The World, the book is an insight into the life of this one person who went to Vietnam and lived to tell the tale. The first part concentrates in Rebecca’s day to day life at the hospital and it is absolutely, tremendously sad and gritty. It shows the horrible decisions doctors and nurses have to make in a hurry as injured soldier after injured soldier is brought in. It shows the stress and the tiredness of impossibly long shifts under extreme circumstances; the horrible food they have to eat which they invariably ingest with either cold, strong coffee or beer. The amount of alcohol and drugs ingested in an attempt to stay awake/sleep/deal is unbelievable and on top of everything all of the doctors, nurses, soldiers are dealing with some level or another of alcoholism or substance abuse. It is horrible and it made me extremely depressed to read about it – especially when kids were brought in, dying.

In the second part, when Rebecca is released to the World, when you would expect things would be a bit better? It almost broke my heart to see that actually no, getting back to the world, is nowhere near the end of all problems. The PTSD, the injuries, the nightmares, the dependence on alcohol, all is there and no one can really understand. To make things even worse, it is disheartening to see the anti-war sentiments and protests against the SOLDIERS when they come back.

These people have lost friends, have lost limbs, almost lost their mind and they still have to face this when they come back? It is ugly and it is again, unbearably sad because the soldiers, the nurses, etc do what they are told to – it’s the politics and the politicians behind the war that should be the one target. Having said that, the book is not an anti-war plantlet and it never falls into dreaded preachy territory. The story SHOWS , the reader reacts. And this is really, what it is down me, as a reader, reading, experiencing this book: I can’t remember the last time when I read something I did not pay attention to POV, writing, the mechanics of a book. I only felt.

The whole book is absolutely brutal and yet, still hopeful. I wouldn’t have loved if darkness and sadness was all there was to it. The love story between Rebecca and Michael, the small moments of lightness where we could see the shadow of a light hearted Rebecca who loved to sing and tell jokes, the friendships that were possible in the middle of it, it all contributed to making this a fabulous read to me. It helps that I love character-driven books, of course.

I had a most guttural, emotional reaction to this book. I had to read it really slowly, often stopping so that I could examine my reactions and to think about what I was reading. When the ending came, and it was a happy ending, I cried. I will paraphrase Angie here: Michael and Rebecca deserve every scrap of happiness they can get and I am glad I was able to witness that.

Thea: As Ana says, the plot is pretty straightforward. A girl goes to war as a nurse, and she returns home to deal with the trauma of her experiences. As far as reading goes, I finished this book in a day without any problems. It’s a quick read, though it does tackle some heavy issues – the usual horrors of war; the chaos and senselessness of it all; a touch on drug abuse and a passing glance at sexism and gender relations during war. This is pretty standard fare in the war literature canon, and while Ms. White does a solid job of portraying the cruelties of Vietnam, it’s nothing really new or particularly resonating (at times it did feel like The Short-Timers or Paco’s Story – the Lite version). What impressed me much more was the way Ms. White examines the other side of the anti-war sentiments of the 1960s and ’70s. Upon Rebecca’s return home, she is avoided and sneered at by her old friends and sneered at by random people (the scene on the airplane as she flies home to Massachusetts next to a businessman that treats her as though she has the plague because of her uniform). It’s a timely and important message – regardless of politics, regardless of how someone personally feels about a war, it’s not the fault of the young men and women who are dying in the fields or deserts. The anti-war sentiment bleeding into hate and animosity towards veterans is something that continues to happen today, and Ms. Emerson’s portrayal of this misdirected anger is incredibly thought-provoking and resonated with me far more than the familiar, less-inspired themes of the senselessness of war.

At the end of the day, I was moved by the story, and particularly by Rebecca as a character (but more on that later). There wasn’t much that physically happened in terms of plot which is a little disappointing, but as this is more of an introspective, quieter novel, it simply works. Though I do wish there was a larger scope for the story, for its contained nature, it is pretty damn good.

On the Characters:

Ana: Now, this is where this book really and truly, shines. I had a field day with Rebecca as a protagonist. She is complex and oh boy so freaking effed-up. When in Vietnam Rebecca moves about almost like an automaton performing tasks and trying not to think about the Christmas day when she lost friends, and nearly lost her own life. The happenings of that day are only alluded to until it becomes clear that there is something ELSE that happened there, when she was out in the jungle, alone for more than one day before being rescued. It is also pointed out by another character how much she changed after the incident: she used to be the person that lifted everybody’s spirits but she just lost the will to make jokes and to laugh. The memories, the survivor’s guilt are almost too much for Rebecca, nearly as much as the thought that she is down there out of her own accord, based on a stupid decision she made when her childhood sweetheart was killed in the war and her brother disappeared to Canada to avoid going.

For the duration of the book she just….keeps going and it is hard to say what it is exactly that fuels her: there is all sorts of guilt here and also hope. There is so much that is happening to her. There is her own family situation that needs to be addressed: her father who hates that she wanted to be a doctor, her brother who just ….went away. When she goes back to the real world who can possibly understand her? For the second part of the book, Rebecca does little more than to sleep and drink and it is heartbreaking to see someone so strong, so interesting that lost.

And then there is Michael. Even though the only point of view we get is Rebecca’s, I absolutely LOVED Michael. She keeps getting letters from him and they are amazing, I loved waiting to read them as much as Rebecca did.

“Everyone’s talking guy talk, and someone says, okay, Meat, you got the Lieutenant (yeah, that’s you), the Playmate of the Year, and Raquel Welch, and they’re all standing here, smiling at you – which one do you pick? So, of course, I said you. And you know what, I mean it. Because – I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you – but, you are really built, Rebbeca.

Love(!),
Mike

P.S. Are you laughing, or sitting there all pissed off?”

It is interesting how at first, she just keeps herself in check because he is out there, and the possibility that he will end up killed is huge and she needs to protect her heart. But he is so insistent she really can’t help falling in love with him. And every time someone was brought in , I held my breath along with her, until he did eventually come. When he was sent home, and gave her the picture of his beloved dog as a goodbye gift, it was all I could do stop from sobbing.

Another point is how both characters are extremely young – and
Michael is even younger : she is 21 , he is 19. That they are both so fucked-up is so freaking sad. But again, I just loved how Rebecca went after him to see if what they had was real or not. I have no idea if they will ever really work. He is not only younger and injured but also from a different background which in real life may prove their doom but he is also quite possibly the only one who will be there and UNDERSTAND when she wakes up screaming from her nightmares. And then, there is one scene when he gives her flowers – and it is fuelled with meaning and with the sense of humor they both shared and I think: yeah, they will be alright.

Plus, they have Otis, the dog.

Thea: Again, I have to agree with Ana – this is a character-heavy book, and it is in Rebecca’s characterizations that this novel really shines. Frankly, if it wasn’t for Rebecca’s heartfealt, painful narration, The Road Home would not have been half as good because of how skimpy it is in terms of plot – but because Rebecca is such a compelling, strong-yet-broken character, the novel just works. Rebecca is tough, physically pushing herself to the edge of sanity and exhaustion as she dedicates herself to her job, triaging as the never-ending stream of injured men following the Tet flood the base’s hospital. In an attempt to keep herself from thinking too much about any one thing, Rebecca dedicates herself to work. One of my favorite passages from this book is from Rebecca, trying to explain why one particular death at her hands affected her so much more than any of the other atrocities she’s seen – she focuses on the one death, because the others are too overwhelming. As Rebecca tries to cope with her own demons, drinking heavily to take the edge off, she also relies on her friendships with her superior officer, Major Doyle, and a romantic friendship with a drafted grunt named Michael.

I too loved Michael’s letters to Rebecca, and his character (though an aside: I fear I will never understand why Ana creates these emotional bonds to such a minor character in the overall scope of the novel! He’s barely in the book, and this is Rebecca’s story, not really Michael’s! But again, that’s a difference in our reading habits. I digress). The strained romance between these two very damaged characters is a touching one, though in the big picture, the appeal for me is not so much the romantic love between the two as it is about both Rebecca and Michael trying to become whole people again, and supporting each other to find whatever strength and happiness they can.

More interesting to me than Michael and the romance, however, was the character of Major Doyle and the odd friendship she and Rebecca form. Unlike the usual butch or hardass army woman stereotype, Major Doyle is a tough, no-nonsense career nurse, but she’s also a physically beautiful woman. She feels a responsibility for Rebecca much in the way an older sister would, and as Major Doyle’s story is gradually revealed, her friendship with Becky is one of the highest points in this novel. When Rebecca returns to “the World” and meets with her old friends, other well-to-do 22 year olds who are married happily with children and working dutifully as secretaries and wives, the contrast between Rebecca’s old friendships and the tough, soul-searching talks she and Major Doyle had are all the more glaring.

Other characters that bode mentioning are Rebecca’s family – Rebecca’s strained relationship with her father, her worried mother, and her draft-dodging brother. Things are tough all around, and Ms. White tackles these different relationships with gritty realism. Rebecca’s relationships are forever changed just as Rebecca is changed by the war, and Ms. White does not try to talk-down or sugar-coat any of it. There is a lot of darkness and grit to this book – but there’s also hope and the promise of future happiness and healing.

Final Thoughts, Observations & Rating:

Ana: This is such a hard book, made so easy to be read; with no easy answers, loads of truly flawed characters, and problems with no simple solution. I LOVED this book. Oh man. I loved this book so much I feel like reading it again. Rebecca and Michael are awesome. Yes, I have resorted to “love” and “awesome” because I am reduced to a puddle of blubbering nonsense. Well done Miss Angie and Thanks.

Thea: The Road Home is a gritty read, full of horror and hope. As a heroine, Rebecca is one of the finest characters I have read in a long time. Though it is a bit light on plot and content in terms of the war itself, the strength of its characters and its dedicated, respectful message to veterans more than compensates for any thematic skimp. Powerful, raw, and emotional, The Road Home is a book that deserves to be read by all.

Notable Quotes/Parts:

The War

“Bodies – some alive, some not – were literally stacked up all over the place, a scene so grisly that even one of her nightmares couldn’t have created it.
By the third day, they were being given amphetamines to stay awake, pausing only long enough to slug them down with cold strong coffee before moving on to the next patient. Rebecca worked on complete medical auto-pilot, starting IVs, stopping bleeding, and cutting off limbs that were only hanging by tendons to save the surgeons time. “

Additional Thoughts: The Road Home is actually a fifth book to complement a series of books about the Vietnam War but the only one with Rebecca as the main character. The first four books were written by the author under the name of Zach Emerson and are known as the Echo Company series. The books follow Michael Jennings – Rebecca’s romantic interest – from the moment he is drafted to go to War until the night before the Tet Offensive. It is in these books that we actually see how they met and how he fell in love with Rebecca.

* Echo Company #1: Welcome to Vietnam (1991)
* Echo Company #2: Hill 568 (1991)
* Echo Company #3: ‘Tis The Season (1991)
* Echo Company #4: Stand Down (1992)

I had a hard time trying to find covers for these and they all seem to be out of print!

Rating:

Ana: 9 – Damn Near Perfection

Thea: 8 – Excellent

Reading Next: The Magicians by Lev Grossman

It’s Alert Nerd Day at The Book Smugglers! Today we take a look at Alert Nerd Press – an independent digital publisher dedicated to making geek-centric fiction and nonfiction for the discriminating nerd, both online and in print.

Title: Unconventional

Author: Matt Springer

Genre: Contemporary, Fiction, Geek-lit

Publisher: Alert Nerd Press
Publication Date: April 2007 (Originally Published Feb 2003)
Paperback: 141 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novella

How did we get this book: Review copy from the author

Why did we read this book: We love the geektastic blog that is Alert Nerd, having been introduced to the folks over there earlier this year for their “That’s My Scott and Jean” bonanza. So, when bloggers/authors Matt Springer and Sarah Kuhn contacted us with an opportunity to read and review their novellas, we eagerly accepted!

Summary: (from AlertNerdPress.com)
A tale of sex, booze and geeks at Chicago’s fictional UnCon, Unconventional follows three friends as they love, laugh, and dare I say learn in a loving-yet-irreverent look at fans and fandom (oh, and one of them gets laid. Twice). From founding Alert Nerd Matt Springer, Unconventional is the first book (of millions!) from AN Press.

REVIEW:

First Impressions:

Thea: When we were offered a chance to review Unconventional, I was pretty frakking excited. With a tagline like “A tale of sex, booze, and geeks” how could I be anything but excited? And, for the most part, Matt Springer delivers. Unconventional is an inside glimpse of a group of friends as they tackle UnConvention (Northern Illinois’ top SF convention). It’s a tale about friendships, about growing up, and, yeah, about geeks getting their rocks off to The Phantom Menace bashing and the awesomeness of Leonard Nimoy’s prosthetic ears from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. Though it’s an uneven ride, Unconventional gets its message across with some touching and revealing interactions between its trio of characters. And, though it’s a bit dated, I did enjoy the honest, at times cringeworthy look at the unwashed, basement-dwelling male geek stereotype, up close and personal. Though it didn’t particularly resonate with me as a reader, it’s certainly entertaining and it has its moments.

Ana: I basically had a similar reaction to Thea when we were offered a review copy. Alert Nerd is one of my favourite sites these days and upon reading the tagline “A tale of sex, booze, and geeks” , I knew I was in for a bromance- like read and braced myself for just that. And you know. Unconventional totally resonated with me as a reader, maybe because I am geekier than I thought but most probably because I like reading about male characters’ and their struggles – it is always like having glimpses of completely alien minds. But here, they are alien not only because they are men but because they take geekdom to a different dimension (aha) , one that is far away from my own. And I loved this insight into the world of Conventions – to the point where I one day hope to be able attend one. Right now, to attend Comic Con is a matter of honour.

On the Plot:

Unconventional is the story of three friends – a “Trilogy” that has been together since bonding over the Return of the Jedi novelization back in the fourth grade. Now in their mid-twenties, Ham, Marty, and Ron are reunited and headed out to UnConvention, the year’s best SF con, where they’ll drink far too much, find and lose lovers, and get into some heated discussions about the nature of geekdom, their futures, and their friendships.

Thea: In terms of structure, Unconventional is a nice package. Alternating between a present timeline of leadup & three days spent at UnCon, and pivotal flashbacks in each character’s past, this novella is a nicely rounded and decently paced read. Initially, the story drags a bit, injecting a lot of popgeekery references and metaphors without really accomplishing anything to advance the story. That said, once the book kicks into gear at the convention and readers get to know the characters more intimately in terms of their thoughts and emotions, everything clicks.

I did have a few jarring reservations whilst reading Unconventional that do bode mentioning – the first dealing with the dated nature of the material. The novella was originally written in 2001, and as such, many of the references feel a bit tired – the annoyances of Jar Jar Binks, the cash cow milking that was The Phantom Menace, the Gollum references that were cool when The Fellowship of the Ring first came out, a lengthy metaphor about taking the red pill versus the blue pill, just to name a few. When I started Unconventional, I was under the impression that it would be a bit more current, so it was a jarring experience. That said, now knowing the time frame when it was written, I can deal. The difference between 2001 and 2009 is just an unfortunate nether-realm – the references aren’t quite old enough to be “retro” nor are they recent enough to be cool.

The good, more important thing to remember though is that Unconventional is more than a string of empty pop-geek references. Yeah, Unconventional verges on sitcom-y/stereotypical geek movie, but there are some surprisingly touching moments in this slim book, coming together nicely by the last few chapters. Though there’s a lot of the requisite aforementioned Star Wars/Star Trek/SF referencing as well as some good humored, sardonic fun poked at conventions (i.e. dudes who really should not be wearing spandex batsuits doing so onstage), this isn’t so much a book about conventions and fanboy geekdom than it is about friends dealing with their own baggage…friends who happen to be, well, huge fanboy geeks. And that’s cool. I can get on board with that.

Ana: Lord help me for I loved each and every geeky reference and even the dated nature of the novel. Actually scrap that, I wouldn’t even use the word “dated” for this since the issues raised that COULD be seen as dated feel so relevant to me. Every time they mentioned Gollum I giggled; the blue pill versus the red pill speech was totally cool and I completely understand the frustration about the Phantom Menace.

But as Thea says Unconventional is more than that – it is almost a Coming of Age story for each of the character but not quite, because of the ultimate outcome. I liked the format of the novel with each character going on its separate journey during the convention, each at some point or the other meeting another character who became an Obi Wan Kenobi them, giving life advice. It is a book about friendship and about growing up; touching on issues such as: do growing up mean growing away from being a geek? Each of the characters reaches a point where this question is raised and each relates to it in a different manner. It is, about all, a novella about identity. They all depart hoping to have mindless fun at the convention but the journey ends up being completely different from what they expected.

That are many, many Star Wars/Star Trek references and other relevant references to what geeks love and that may be jarring for those readers that do not relate so in that case, this book is certainly not a book for everyone. I also need to mention that I had a couple of problems with the episodic nature of the novel and I am sure I have seen one or two continuity mistakes (there is one scene where one of the guys asks about another character, saying that he hadn’t seen him the “whole morning”. But how could he? It was only 10am and he had just woken up. Yeah, I know. Nitpicking). But since the choppy, episodic feel of the novella is due to the choice of having each character on his own journey, this may be a moot point but still, I could have done with a smoother connection between each sequence.

On the Characters:

Thea: Here’s where Unconventional really shines – because its characters are wonderfully detailed and flawed. Any time a character makes you react strongly, it’s usually a good thing – it means the author is doing his or her job. And certainly, Unconventional had some characters that had me reacting in a strong way. Each of the three protagonists of Marty, Ham and Ron, are dudes with issues. Easily, Marty is my favorite of the lot – earnest, driven, emotional and intelligent, Marty’s an aspiring science fiction author who struggles with the decision to pursue his dream of writing, or stay on the safer career path that will keep him fed. Then there’s Ham (actual name Theo – Ham is short for Hammerhead, a minor character from the Star Wars films) – nervous, dramatic, impassioned Ham, with his convention crushes and his own share of disappointments. And finally, there’s Ron. Asshole, arrogant, selfish Ron, who gives me the urge to blindside tackle him and start eyegouging. The geek of the group who grew into a young Harrison Ford looking guy, suave with the ladies, and who honestly doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.

Each of these characters goes through a lot in Unconventional, coming to grips with their own shortcomings, fears and hopes. And each of them has at least one moment of genuine reflection as the book progresses, taking them beyond a caricaturish rendering and making them real, flesh and blood people. Even asshole Ron has one such moment! Now that’s saying something. The dynamic between these three friends, strained as it may be at times, is what makes the book. Even if I didn’t particularly love certain aspects of these men, I can appreciate how real they are.

Ana: I am with Thea on this one – the characters are wonderful. Marty, Ham and Ron are flawed and interesting geeks, my favourite also being Marty.

These three are total, complete losers.

But given the nature of the novella, it is important to make it clear that they are not losers because they are geeks – they are losers because they are confined by this “geek” label and they do not do anything above and beyond that. As with someone says in the book, keeping life and real relationships at bay is what makes you a loser.

Ham for example is the one who is the most stereotypically geek– living in his parents’ basement, apparently satisfied with the life he leads, with the fact that he gets to spend his money with his geek stuff. This satisfaction however, may prove to be superficial and there is an amazing scene towards the ending and a breakdown that actually made me cry a little bit.

Dramatically different is Ron, he is the geek who is ashamed to be a geek and he found a way out with the fact that he is cool with the ladies – but he is stuck in the same machine over and over again and is unable to let go. He is the MAJOR loser of the book because he is an asshole to women and even to his friends. A total douchebag, it also makes him very human though.

Marty on the other hand, is the one that is able to break the vicious circle by not only embracing the inner geek but also opening up to the real world. Marty is the proof that is possible to have both.

And that is my Pearl of Wisdom for today. You can call me Obi Wan Kenobi now.

Final Thoughts, Observations and Rating:

Thea: Unconventional is a book that has its moments, both high and low. It’s much more of a dude-centric, bromancy kind of story that didn’t particularly resonate with me, a female member of the geek contingent, but I enjoyed reading it, and I do look forward to more from Matt Springer.

Ana: This novella has its heart in the right place. Since I am a major fan of bromance, dude-centric stories, I loved it. If Alert Nerd keeps publishing novels like that, I predict I will read every single one of them.

Notable Quotes/Parts:

For those who have ever been to a science fiction convention, no explanation is necessary. Those who regularly attend cons understand the unique vibe one encounters when several hundred sci-fi fans gather in one place for three days of inane chatters, outrageous spending, and casual sex – or alternately three days of no sunlight, little sleep and full-on submission to total geekdom.

For those who never been, no explanation will suffice. To those who are con virgins – or “mundanes” , as non-fans are often known to con goers – attending a con might seem, in many crucial ways, like stepping into another world. A quick scan around the lobby of Schaumburg’s Hyatt Regency on the UnConvention’s opening day would do nothing to relieve that feeling. The real trick would be trying to figure out just which world you’d wandered into by mistake.

On a bank of couches, a passable Doctor Who (the fourth Doctor, by all appearances) chatted amiably with an oversized woman in a full renaissance maiden costume, her long hair braided and hanging over her ample (and amply exposed) breasts. Four guys in near-matching black t-shirts have staked out a spot near the concierge desk and were engaging in a fierce session of Magic: The Gathering on the lobby floor. In the expansive atrium area, a small crowd had gathered to watch two jedi engage in an impromptu lightsaber battle.

Everyone had their own particular quirk to flaunt, be it a costume, an allegiance to a particular subclass of fans, or even just a tiny button with the catchphrase “My friend went to the Hellmouth and all I got was this lousy pin” emblazoned upon it. In other words, it was your typical con crowd, and there’s no doubt that any mundanes stumbling upon the proceedings might start searching for the first available shuttle back to Planet Normal.

But for the UnCon community, banded together for three days each year then scattered back into the harsh winds of the “real world”, the Hyatt felt like home.

Additional Thoughts: You can purchase Unconventional online, OR you can download the novella for free in its entirety in an online PDF. The power is yours!

Rating:

Thea: 6 – Good, Recommended

Ana: 6 – Good, and leaning towards a 7

Reading Next: One Con Glory by Sarah Kuhn

Title: A Northern Light (UK Title: A Gathering Light)

Author: Jennifer Donnelly

Genre: Historical Fiction, Young Adult

Publisher: Hartcourt Paperback (US) / Bloomsbury (UK)
Publication Date: April 2003 (US) / June 2003 (UK)
Paperback: 408 pages (US)

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novel.

Why did I read this book: I’ve had my eye on A Northern Light for a while now and meant to read it over the course of our Young Adult Appreciation Month. Due to time constraints, I couldn’t make it – but hey, better late than never, right?

Summary: (from amazon.com)
Mattie Gokey has a word for everything. She collects words, stores them up as a way of fending off the hard truths of her life, the truths that she can’t write down in stories.
The fresh pain of her mother’s death. The burden of raising her sisters while her father struggles over his brokeback farm. The mad welter of feelings Mattie has for handsome but dull Royal Loomis, who says he wants to marry her. And the secret dreams that keep her going–visions of finishing high school, going to college in New York City, becoming a writer.

Set in 1906 against the backdrop of the murder that inspired Theodore Dreiser’s An American Tragedy, this coming-of-age novel effortlessly weaves romance, history, and a murder mystery into something moving, and real, and wholly original.

Review:

A Northern Light is actually two parallel stories, following sixteen year old Mattie Gokey as she struggles to follow her dreams, beyond her harsh, bleak reality. In 1906, Mattie works as a maid at the Glenmore, an upscale hotel on the banks of Big Moose Lake outside New York City. One of the guests, a young woman named Grace Brown (who is not much older than Mattie herself) is found drowned in the lake and is bought to the Glenmore while her family is notified. The man she was with at the hotel and on the lake, however, is nowhere to be found. Mattie knows that something is not right with Grace’s death, as shortly before she disappeared, the tearful young woman asked Mattie to perform a favor for her – to burn a pile of letters. Letters, which may hold a hint to the woman’s tragic fate; letters that Mattie has not yet destroyed.

Simultaneously, A Northern Light also tells the story of Mattie a year prior to her employment at the hotel, a retrospective storyline that catches up to the discovery of Grace’s body. This earlier thread follows Mattie as she works at home on her farm in the North Woods. After her mother’s death and her brother runs away following an argument with their father, Mattie has had to work even harder to keep her family fed and chores completed. Without her older brother to do work around the farm, Mattie’s father demands that she stay home and give up her useless pursuit of schooling and writing, much less her dreams of heading to New York City for university the following year. And every day Mattie’s dreams for the future, to become a writer free from the responsibilities of the farm and demands of her family, shrink – especially when the handsome neighboring farmer Royal takes an interest in her.

As these two storylines collide, Mattie confronts the truth of the dead guest at the hotel and searches her soul for the strength to follow her dreams, or to accept the reality of her life as it is.

A Northern Light is one of those rare works of fiction that works on every level – as a historical fiction novel and as a young adult novel, even though it is set in the early 1900s, Mattie is a heroine that modern young readers can appreciate and identify with. It is written impeccably, alternating storylines seamlessly with the interesting use of Mattie’s “word of the day” broken down by syllable as a header for the past storyline, which is inevitably worked into the chapter somehow (a very cool writing technique on Ms. Donnelly’s part). The history is detailed and feels completely genuine – it’s clear that Ms. Donnelly did a lot of research to understand how a farm worked in the early 1900s, the types of chores a household faced, the realities of school being a luxury that many could not afford (not because of cost, but because of the time required to take classes), and the limited options that faced a young woman in the time period. In some ways, Mattie’s story reminded me of Anne Shirley’s in Anne of Green Gables – like Anne, Mattie (and her best friend, the highly intelligent and driven Weaver) dreams of taking the Regent’s exams and earning a scholarship to a school for her creative writing, fueled onward by a bold female teacher that sees her potential to be more than a farmer’s wife. But while Mattie’s dreams and ambitions may be similar to L.M. Montgomery’s firey Anne, the two characters are decidedly different.

Mattie, as a heroine, comes across as heartbreakingly real in her doubts, her fears, and her limited choices. Much more pragmatic than Anne ever could be, Mattie weighs her options carefully and is at times afraid to take a stand on her own – but that’s again all testament to Ms. Donnelly’s skill as a writer, creating a strong young female character that is a product of her time period. Yes, there are times in A Northern Light that I felt like smacking some sense into Mattie, but these feelings of frustration are a product of a more modern feminist minded, 21st century woman reading about someone who grew up in completely different, alien circumstances. And for all that, I couldn’t help but love Mattie and root for her as a character, hoping that she would take chances and open her eyes – especially as the story of poor Grace Brown unfolds as Mattie reads her letters. Grace Brown’s tragic tale may sound familiar, because it is the true story told in Theodore Drieser’s An American Tragedy, which later became the film A Place in the Sun. The skill with which Ms. Donnelly parallels Grace and Mattie’s stories is exquisite – though the two women are of different circumstances, the traps they find themselves in resonate tragically.

Beyond Mattie and the beautifully detailed historical background, A Northern Light also has standout secondary characters, particularly in the form of Mattie’s best friend Weaver. The first free born of his family, Weaver and his mother moved to the North Woods years earlier, and he and Mattie become quick friends. Determined and ambitious, Weaver is an intelligent and driven foil to Mattie’s indecision – unlike Mattie, Weaver knows what he wants and pursues it relentlessly. And, for all that, he’s also brash and quick to fight, especially when those traveling through the town hit him with racial slurs or disrespect him or his mother. But for all that, Weaver came across as undeniably real, passionate character in Mattie’s narrative – someone she longed to emulate, and someone she admires dearly. And finally, I would be remiss if I did not mention Mattie’s teacher, Miss Wilcox. Miss Wilcox is a mentor to Mattie and Weaver, a Modern Woman who has her own money, an automobile, and lives by herself in the small town. She also fosters Mattie’s passion for reading and writing and urges her to follow her dreams, no matter how difficult and distant they may seem. In contrast to Mattie and the ill-fated Grace, Miss Wilcox seems worldly and wise, someone who has been able to rise beyond the expectations of class and gender – but later it is revealed that even Miss Wilcox is constrained, if in a slightly larger and more luxurious cage. These three womens’ stories (Mattie’s, Grace’s, and Miss Wilcox’s), as well as Mattie’s friendship with Weaver are beautifully written, sweet high notes in a novel full of both harshness and wonder.

A Northern Light won the Carnegie Medal, as well as the Los Angeles Times Book Prize and the Michael L. Printz Award Honor – and all these accolades are well deserved. I loved A Northern Light, and wholeheartedly recommend it to readers of all ages and of all genres. This is a beautifully told story about a young woman’s journey of self discovery amidst racism, sexism, and poverty, and a book not to be missed.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From Chapter 1:

When summer comes to the North Woods, time slows down. And some days it stops altogether. The sky, gray and lowering for much of the year, becomes an ocean of blue, so vast and brilliant you can’t help but stop what you’re doing-pinning wet sheets to the line maybe, or shucking a bushel of corn on the back steps-to stare up at it. Locusts whir in the birches, coaxing you out of the sun and under the boughs, and the heat stills the air, heavy and sweet with the scent of balsam.

As I stand here on the porch of the Glenmore, the finest hotel on all of Big Moose Lake, I tell myself that today-Thursday, July 12, 1906-is such a day. Time has stopped, and the beauty and calm of this perfect afternoon will never end. The guests up from New York, all in their summer whites, will play croquet on the lawn forever. Old Mrs. Ellis will stay on the porch until the end of time, rapping her cane on the railing for more lemonade. The children of doctors and lawyers from Utica, Rome, and Syracuse will always run through the woods, laughing and shrieking, giddy from too much ice cream.

I believe these things. With all my heart. For I am good at telling myself lies.

Until Ada Bouchard comes out of the doorway and slips her hand into mine. And Mrs. Morrison, the manager’s wife, walks right by us, pausing at the top of the steps. At any other time, she’d scorch our ears for standing idle; now she doesn’t seem to even know we’re here. Her arms cross over her chest. Her eyes, gray and troubled, fasten on the dock. And the steamer tied alongside it.

“That’s the Zilpha, ain’t it, Mattie?” Ada whispers. “They’ve been dragging the lake, ain’t they?”

I squeeze her hand. “I don’t think so. I think they were just looking along the shoreline. Cook says they probably got lost, that couple. Couldn’t find their way back in the dark and spent the night under some pines, that’s all.”

“I’m scared, Mattie. Ain’t you?”

I don’t answer her. I’m not scared, not exactly, but I can’t explain how I feel. Words fail me sometimes. I have read most every one in the Webster’s International Dictionary of the English Language, but I still have trouble making them come when I want them to.

Right now I want a word that describes the feeling you get-a cold, sick feeling deep down inside-when you know something is happening that will change you, and you don’t want it to, but you can’t stop it. And you know, for the first time, for the very first time, that there will now be a before and an after, a was and a will be. And that you will never again be quite the same person you were.

I imagine it’s the feeling Eve had as she bit into the apple. Or Hamlet when he saw his father’s ghost. Or Jesus as a boy, right after someone sat him down and told him his pa wasn’t a carpenter after all.

What is the word for that feeling? For knowledge and fear and loss all mixed together? Frisdom? Dreadnaciousness? Malbominance?

Standing on that porch, under that flawless sky, with bees buzzing lazily in the roses and a cardinal calling from the pines so sweet and clear, I tell myself that Ada is a nervous little hen, always worrying when there’s no cause. Nothing bad can happen at the Glenmore, not on such a day as this.

And then I see Cook running up from the dock, ashen and breathless, her skirts in her hands, and I know that I am wrong.

You can read the full excerpt online HERE.

Additional Thoughts: As I mentioned briefly above, Ms. Donnelly wrote some of her story and was in part inspired by the real life case of Grace Brown’s mysterious death, and her missing fiancee Chester Gillette – Gillette was later convicted by Grace’s letters, discovered after her death. This story was originally told in the classic novel An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser. The novel (published in 1925) was later adapted into a play and then film starring Elizabeth Taylor, Montgomery Clift, and Shelley Winters.

For A Northern Light, Jennifer Donnelly says that she was inspired by the classic novel and couldn’t shake the haunting words of Grace Brown’s letters:

Gillette was apprehended and convicted for the murder, and instrumental to that conviction were letters Grace Brown herself had written to him. In them, Grace pleads with Chester to come and take her away before her condition becomes apparent. The letters are full of fear and desperation, but they also show this young woman’s intelligence, humor, and wit.

Grace’s words were the tingle. I couldn’t stop hearing her voice, couldn’t stop grieving for such a young, lovely life so callously snuffed out. Mattie Gokey, the heroine of A Northern Light, was born, in part, because I wanted to change the past. I wanted to know that someone had been kind to Grace on her last day. That someone had smiled at her, and exchanged a few pleasant words.

Falling in love – with a person, or a place, or a story – changes your life. And Mattie and Grace have changed mine. I finished the book last summer, and I felt sad when they let me go. And lonely and pointless. It was like a good friend moving far away.

But just the other day, I was cleaning out some files to make room for all the xeroxes and old postcards and photos I’ve accumulated while researching A Northern Light, and I came across an old, yellowed newspaper clipping that I stuffed in there while ago. It was just a small article from the depths of Section A of The New York Times, a few lines on people and events of a long time ago. But I felt something funny as I read it. Something that made my ears prick up and my hands tremble and my heart beat a little faster.

I think it was a tingle.

You can read more about Ms. Donnelly and A Northern Light online HERE.

Verdict: I loved A Northern Light – it is powerful, raw, and emotional, about a young woman finding her way in a world that seems against set against her. Absolutely recommended, and another notable read of 2009. I’ll be on the lookout for more from Ms. Donnelly – with her adult historical fiction on the book radar!

Rating: 9 – Damn Near Perfection

Reading Next: Ariel by Steven Boyett

Title: Perfume (Das Parfum)

Author: Patrick Suskind, Translated by John E. Woods

Genre: Fiction, Historical, Thriller

Publisher: Diogenes-Verlag (Germany) / Alfred A. Knopf (US)
Publication Date: 1985 (Germany) / February 2001 (US)
Paperback: 272 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novel.

Why did I read this book: Ana and I decided that we had gone too long without a Dare, so we cracked down. Ana picked Perfume: The Story of a Murderer for me, a literary fiction novel about a man born with a superhuman sense of smell. I read the blurb, and though I was a little scared (“realistic” literary fiction can do that to me!), I was also very excited to give Mr. Suskind’s international bestseller a try…

Summary: (from amazon.com)
An acclaimed bestseller and international sensation, Patrick Suskind’s classic novel provokes a terrifying examination of what happens when one man’s indulgence in his greatest passion—his sense of smell—leads to murder.

In the slums of eighteenth-century France, the infant Jean-Baptiste Grenouille is born with one sublime gift-an absolute sense of smell. As a boy, he lives to decipher the odors of Paris, and apprentices himself to a prominent perfumer who teaches him the ancient art of mixing precious oils and herbs. But Grenouille’s genius is such that he is not satisfied to stop there, and he becomes obsessed with capturing the smells of objects such as brass doorknobs and frest-cut wood. Then one day he catches a hint of a scent that will drive him on an ever-more-terrifying quest to create the “ultimate perfume”—the scent of a beautiful young virgin. Told with dazzling narrative brillance, Perfume is a hauntingly powerful tale of murder and sensual depravity.

Review:

July 17, 1738. Paris.

It is the dawning of the Age of Enlightenment in France, of coffeehouses and of reason struggling triumphant over religion. It also is a time when the streets ran rank with the odors of sewage, unwashed people, spoiling food and decaying corpses. In the most odiferous of Paris’s slums, in the heat and stench of the poorest fish market, a woman gives birth and tries to leave her child for dead beneath her spoiling wares. But, determined to live even as a babe, the newborn emits a shriek that alerts others to his existence. His mother is killed for her attempted infanticide, and the young boy is passed from wet nurse to priest to orphanage, and he discovers his true purpose and calling – scent.

Perfume is the story of Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, a proclaimed monster, a savant of the olfactory, and a murderer. It is not so much a story about his murders (as the full title, Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, suggests), but about Grenouille’s life. From Grenouille’s hasty birth to his ultimate demise, this is the story of a growing monster, who knows the unparalleled power of scent. From orphan to tanning apprentice to perfumer, Grenouille realizes that scent can influence and change perceptions, and that every odor has its purpose. And, when he realizes that he himself has absolutely no smell at all, he begins his careful work to craft the ultimate scent – the scent of love.

I didn’t know what really to expect with Perfume – though I suppose I thought I was in store for more of a grisly murder tale. In actuality, Perfume is a character’s journey, and a scathing commentary on human nature. Yes, Grenouille’s murderous acts are portrayed in the book, but they are not gratuitous or gory – rather, this is an atmospheric, macabre tale. Far more terrifying than the corpses Grenouille leaves behind are his perceptions, his desires and ambitions. As a character, we know from the first sentence that Grenouille is a monster:

In eighteenth-century France there lived a man who was one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era that knew no lack of gifted and abominable personages. His name was Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, and if his name — in contrast to the names of other gifted abominations, de Sade’s, for instance, or Saint-Just’s, Fouche’s, Bonaparte’s, etc — has been forgotten today, it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance, misanthropy, immorality, or, more succinctly, to wickedness…

Just as from his birth, as a child without any scent at all, Grenouille never really had a chance for redemption with readers either. He’s a magician, an outcast, a recluse. But even more terrifying than Grenouille, in my opinion, were the malleable, ignorant humans around him, reacting to the scents he ultimately concocts. Mr. Suskind’s debut novel carefully constructs self-absorbed characters, all flawed monsters in their own way. And perhaps that’s the most terrifying thing of all – for as driven as Grenouille is to concoct his masterpiece, each other character he interacts with from the Orphange mam Madame Gaillard to the bereaved father Monsieur Richis are revealed for the selfish creatures they truly are.

Beyond the characters and insight to the selfish cruelty of the human disposition, however, Perfume simply is a beautiful book. The detailed background of French history that Mr. Suskind paints his novel against is incredible. The plotting, though slow at times and ultimately not a grand or sweeping epic, is strong in its own right. And the prose…ah, the prose! It is simple, sparing, and luscious. Mr. Woods, the translator, did a phenomenal job of interpreting the German to English, as this is one of the finest translations I can remember reading (comparable to Lucia Graves’ The Shadow of the Wind). I would never have picked up this novel had I not been dared by Ana – but I absolutely loved it. Perfume is an unforgettable bouquet indeed.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From the second chapter:

“Ah, I understand,” said Terrier, almost relieved. “I catch your drift. Once again, it’s a matter of money.”

“No!” said the wet nurse.

“Of course it is! It’s always a matter of money. When there’s a knock at this gate, it’s a matter of money. Just once I’d like to open it and find someone standing there for whom it was a matter of something else. Someone, for instance, with some little show of thoughtfulness. Fruit, perhaps, or a few nuts. After all, in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. Flowers maybe. Or if only someone would simply come and say a friendly word. ‘God bless you, Father Terrier, I wish you a good day!’ But I’ll probably never live to see it happen. If it isn’t a beggar, it’s a merchant, and if it isn’t a merchant, it’s a tradesman, and if it isn’t alms he wants, then he presents me with a bill. I can’t even go out into the street anymore. When I go out on the street, I can’t take three steps before I’m hedged in by folks wanting money!”

“Not me,” said the wet nurse.

“But I’ll tell you this: you aren’t the only wet nurse in the parish. There are hundreds of excellent foster mothers who would scramble for the chance of putting this charming babe to their breast for three francs a week, or to supply him with pap or juices or whatever nourishment . . .”

“Then give him to one of them!”

“. . . On the other hand, it’s not good to pass a child around like that. Who knows if he would flourish as well on someone else’s milk as on yours. He’s used to the smell of your breast, as you surely know, and to the beat of your heart.”

And once again he inhaled deeply of the warm vapors streaming from the wet nurse.

But then, noticing that his words had made no impression on her, he said, “Now take the child home with you! I’ll speak to the prior about all this. I shall suggest to him that in the future you be given four francs a week.”

“No,” said the wet nurse.

“All right-five!”

“No.”

“How much more do you want, then?” Terrier shouted at her. “Five francs is a pile of money for the menial task of feeding a baby.”

I don’t want any money, period,” said the wet nurse. “I want this bastard out of my house.”

“But why, my good woman?” said Terrier, poking his finger in the basket again. “He really is an adorable child. He’s rosy pink, he doesn’t cry, and he’s been baptized.”

“He’s possessed by the devil.”

You can read the full excerpt of the first two chapters HERE.

Additional Thoughts: This book, which went on to become an international bestseller, was recently made into a motion picture:

Starring Ben Whishaw as Grenouille, Dustin Hoffman as Baldini, Rachel Hurd-Wood as Laure (changed to “Laura” for the film), and Alan Rickman as her father Richis. I haven’t yet seen the film, though I will certainly be renting it very soon! I am kind of wary though – the book’s strengths are in the internal descriptions and interpretations of Grenouille and his scents, and I’m not sure how well that will translate to the big screen…

Also in random, very creative and somewhat disturbing news, in conjunction with the film, perfumer Thierry Mugler has interpreted the scents from the book and movie Perfume. The collection, which costs $700 total, contains scents such as Jasmine and Sea, but also contains “Virgin No. 1,” “Baby,” and “Human Existence” among others with explanations. For example:

Paris 1738

INSPIRATION
“It was a mixture of human and animal smells, of water and stone and ashes and leather, of soap and fresh-baked bread (…). Thousands upon thousands of odors formed as invisible gruel that filled the street ravines, only seldom evaporating above the rooftops and never from the ground below. ”
~ From Part I, Chapter 7

INTERPRETATION
“So real!  As if you were there! With ‘Human Existence’, it corresponds to the horror movie of perfumery.  It requires as many skills and special effects. Controversial ingredients were specifically used to come up with this one-of-a-kind olfactory conglomerate. The ambivalence of the cassis note, cleverly used, for example, makes a definite impression. Blackcurrants in fruity compositions have a slight odor of urine, however, when they are added to a dark scent, their fruity accord clearly dominates. The challenge was to hide the fruity aspect and to place the emphasis on the sordid effect.”

I’m simultaneously curious and repulsed.

Verdict: Almost against my will, I loved Perfume. This is a delectable novel, beautifully written and devastatingly dark. Absolutely recommended to anyone that loves a well-written novel.

Rating: 8 Excellent

Reading Next: Ark by Stephen Baxter

Title: Newes From the Dead

Author: Mary Hooper

Genre: Historical Fiction, Young Adult

Publisher: Bodley Head Children’s (Random House UK) / Roaring Book Press (Macmillan US)
Publication Date: April 2008 (UK & US)
Hardcover: 320 pages

Stand alone or series: Stand alone novel.

Why did I read this book: Recently, looking back at all the titles both Ana and I have reviewed over the course of our Young Adult Appreciation Month, I was shocked to see that neither of us had read or reviewed a YA historical fiction (save for A Countess Below Stairs, reviewed earlier today). And, when I remembered that I had a review copy of Newes from the Dead on my TBR pile, I decided that it was time to give it a read. As YA Historical Fiction was one of my favorite genres as a kid (to this day, Mara: Daughter of the Nile remains one of my favorite books of all time – not to mention other classics like Ann Rinaldi’s The Last Silk Dress or Avi’s The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle).

Summary: (from amazon.com)
It is 1650 and a baby lies raw and cold, dead before it even drew breath. A young servant girl, terrified and alone, is accused of its murder and sent to the gallows. Protesting her innocence in the chill air of a December morning, Anne Green is hanged. Moments later her lifeless body is lifted down from the scaffold and carried to the College of Physicians for brutal dissection.

But as Anne’s corpse lies on the table and the doctors assemble, a strange rattle is heard in her throat. Against all the odds, could she still be alive?

Review:

On a cold winter’s night in 1650, Anne Green awakens from a dark slumber, and she realizes that she cannot move. Slowly she remembers her last breath before her long sleep, with a hangman’s noose around her neck. Anne fears that she has died, and now lies in some horrible state of purgatory, buried beneath ground in a coffin, doomed to darkness and for all eternity. With nothing else to do, Anne begins to recount her sad story from the beginning; her first days housemaid in the home of a powerful family, the attentions and empty promises of the young lord of the house, and her ultimate demise as she’s found guilty of fornication and murder. Parallel to Anne’s recollections is another storyline, where a young noble with a pronounced stammer gathers around Anne’s body with his fellow students and doctors in Oxford, ready to dissect her still fresh body for the purposes of scientific inquiry. But then, the men see Anne’s eyelids twitch. Eager to make their reputations, the physicians of Oxford try to revive Miss Anne Green from her half-dead state – for against all logic, the girl has faced the gallows protesting her innocence and has survived.

Newes from the Dead takes its title and its subject matter from a pamphlet published in 1650 – the shockingly true tale of a young woman who was found guilty of infanticide, hanged, and pronounced dead only to show signs of life hours later on the dissection table and become revived by her would-be autopsists. Anne Green’s morbid but fascinating tale, as heard by Mary Hooper on the radio one day inspired her to weave a compelling novel around the historical account.

And compelling Ms. Hooper’s historical fiction is. In effect, the plot is already spelled out from the synopsis – there are no surprises or twists in Newes from the Dead, as we know from the beginning that this is a story about a young girl who miraculously survives her execution and a close brush with dissection. It is testament to Ms. Hooper’s writing that even though the overall plot is known well ahead of time, Newes from the Dead is a haunting, even thrilling read.

There are two parallel stories being told in Newes from the Dead – there’s Anne’s recounting in her immobile body, and there’s the tale of Sir Robert Matthews observing the looming dissection with feelings of apprehension. These storylines converge as Robert sees Anne’s eyelids twitch and stays by her side until she is fully revived. Anne’s memories of her time as a housemaid in the home of Sir Thomas is a tragic and completely believable tale. As a pretty young maid, Anne attracts the attention of Sir Geoffrey, grandson of Sir Thomas of the house – and Geoffrey is relentless in his pursuit of Anne, showering her with sweet words and empty promises of wealth, stature and a safe future as his wife. And Anne, young and naive girl that she is, gives in to his advances, though later she tries to flee his attention. Anne’s shame at believing Geoffrey, even though it was momentary, is painful to read and heartbreaking because it seems so plausible. When Anne finds herself pregnant and then shunned by Geoffrey completely, the pain intensifies. I couldn’t help but feel for the poor girl, caught in an impossible position. The engineering of her quick death sentence, at the hands of the influential Sir Thomas of course, only enhances the aura of dread and helplessness that young Anne feels – indeed, what any number of women or unprivileged persons must have felt in the early days of Cromwell. Anne’s tale is the heart of Newes from the Dead, as Ms. Hooper writes a heartbreakingly story about the events leading up to, and immediately following, her execution.

The other storyline, told with insight to young, stammering Robert’s perspective in the auditorium, is a different type of tale but equally compelling. Robert, prisoner in his own body as much as Anne is by his inability to speak around his colleagues, is an endearing hero counterpart to Anne’s sad story. While Anne lies in a fugue state, Robert remembers his own sad past and finds himself drawn to Anne’s story, and desperately hopes for her to live through her ordeal. If the events in Anne’s memory are a beautifully told story of heartache and abuse, Robert’s observations in Oxford with the physicians, a Puritan and the hateful Sir Thomas are the events that make Newes from the Dead a historical thriller of sorts. Even knowing that the dissection does not happen, I found myself holding my breath at the exclamations and angry arguments from Sir Thomas and the religious Puritan, and I eagerly hoped along with Robert that the physicians – with self-promoting motives of their own, remember – would be able to save young Anne Green’s life. For, even when they knew that Anne was not quite dead, urging her back to resuscitated life – especially with Sir Thomas so eager to make sure she stayed silent and dead – was no small feat.

If this were an Edgar Allen Poe story (which it does share the same sort of ominous foreboding), doubtless Anne Green would survive the gallows only to suffer some other morbid fate – dissected alive, or buried alive. But Ms. Hooper’s Newes from the Dead takes the heavy subject matter with all its gruesome possibilities and instead ends on a happy and completely fulfilling note. This is one well-written, strong novel, and I cannot wait to read more of Ms. Hooper’s historical fiction.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From the opening chapter:

It is very dark when I wake. This isn’t frightening in itself, because most of the year I rise in darkness, Sir Thomas insisting that as much of the house as possible be put in order before any of the family is about. It is the quality of the darkness that is strange; blacker than black, soft and close about me.

I go to turn my head toward the window, to see if any streaks of light can be seen in the sky, but my head doesn’t move! I try again, and again. I lift my hand—or try to—but it doesn’t want to obey me either.

It must be that I am deeply asleep, in some sort of trancelike state, and aware that I’m dreaming. I think I will just waitfor it to pass so I may rise, dress, and go about my household duties.

The waiting continues, and I feel nothing: neither cold nor warm, hungry nor replete. I just sense the blackness and soaring emptiness, but this is not too unpleasant. Some time later, though I cannot tell how long, I perceive movement across the backs of my eyes: four blurry white streaks, moving and gliding in the blackness. The streaks are feathery soft and remind me of doves, or of the soft, enveloping wings of angels. The blurry shapes dance across my eyelids, but when I try to stop them, to endeavor to focus on one and see if I can spy a shining halo or a gold harp, I find it impossible.

I would like it to be angels that I dream of, for I know that would be very lucky. The Reverend Coxeter told us that. He said that no matter whether you are a scullery wench or a lord in his castle, you are truly blessed if you dream of angels. I have tried to dream of them ever since I heard that, but have never succeeded.

Suddenly I remember something and want to scream with terror, and the blackness loses its velvety softness and takes on an aspect of such vast and unknown fears that the angels disappear. What I have remembered is this: the last time I saw the Reverend Coxeter ’twas not in church, but in a bleak yard in the icy rain, and he was entreating the Lord to have mercy on me, preserve my soul, and convey me quickly to paradise. Behind him had stood a great crowd of people, a man wearing a black hood, and a mighty wooden scaffold from which hung a heavy, knotted rope. And it was for me that all these were waiting, for I was . . . was about to be hanged.

A terrifying thought comes to me: If this happened, am I now dead? No, I cannot be, for surely I can hear my heart thumping within me and echoing through my ears. Then is this the state that they tell us about in the Bible? Is this purgatory?

I struggle to think, and recall that purgatory is said to be a painful state, with tortuous fires that cleanse the soul and bring it to righteousness. But how long does it last, this purgatory? A very long time, I think—thousands of years.

My state is not painful now, though, so perhaps it might not be too terrible to be in purgatory. If it just means lying here quietly in the dark, it might be quite bearable. There would be no rising at two in the morning on washing day to soak the linen, no more scrubbing of the kitchen range until my hands bleed, no more going without food for breaking a plate and being unable to sleep for hunger. No more of that, either—that which Geoffrey Reade sought. As I think on this, I feel a shadow pass over my soul and know, without being sure of the circumstances, that he is inexplicably connected to my fate.

I leave this thought atremble in the air and move on. Yes, I could, perhaps, bear purgatory. What I cannot bear . . . what I won’t contemplate is . . . no, no! I won’t let that thought in. But it comes anyway: What I could not bear, dare not consider, is the possibility that I’m not dead, but merely occupying a coffin, having been buried alive.

I’m of a sudden desperate to come out of the trance I must be in, for surely—oh, surely—I am still in the little bedroom I share with Susan, and only deeply asleep. I urge myself on. In my mind’s eye I picture myself pushing back my coarse blanket, swinging my legs out of the bed, and rising up, but though the urge is there, though I think I can perceive my muscles trembling with the effort to work, nothing happens and no part of me moves.

I concentrate harder. Maybe sitting up is asking too much of my body. It will be enough if I can move my hand, feel what’s around me: the straw mattress beneath me and the blanket on top. Once I know that I’m safe in my bed, I’ll be content to lie here longer.

I realize then that instead of being in my usual sleeping position, curled up like a wood louse, I’m lying straight and still with my hands crossed over my breasts. But this is not the usual manner in which I go to sleep . . .

My limbs are not working, but my mind is going ahead, whirling on a dance, showing me images of the effigy in St. Mary’s: a stone woman lying with her arms crossed over her cold stone body. Indeed! That’s how they lay out the dead! I’m so disturbed by this image that for a moment I forget to breathe.

I open my eyes; close them again. It makes no difference to the quality of the darkness. In fact I don’t know if I’m opening my eyes or just dreaming I am. Am I asleep or awake? Alive or dead? Am I already a cadaver?

My heart contracts with terror; there is a pain behind my eyes where I long to cry and a choking in my throat, but it seems that even crying is denied me. I begin to count to calm myself down. It is what I learned to do when Master Geoffrey was—but no, I cannot think on that yet.

I wonder if this state, this condition of mine, is punishment for what I have done, for they are very hard with all who commit sin now, and I have heard of women who have fornicated being tied on a ducking stool and dropped into a pond, and those who have stolen being whipped around the village behind a cart. I have never heard of anyone being buried alive, though.

I am very, very frightened. If I find out that I am buried, I’ll claw at the wood that surrounds me, scratch the walls of my coffin, and break out. But what will I do then? If I’m a buried corpse, then I’m under six feet of earth and will never get free. Best to die quickly perhaps, to clamp my lips together, stop myself from drawing breath, and perish.

In the blackness behind my eyes I try to see the blurry shapes again and turn them into comforting angels, but I cannot. Instead, chunks of my life come crowding in, clamoring to be heard, asking that they be considered in order to make sense of what’s happened to me.

Additional Thoughts: Anne Green was revived in 1650, and lived out a full life – in fact, becoming something of an icon, inspiring narrations in prose, poetry and even a woodcut, as pictured below.

But how did Anne Green survive her hanging (for thirty minutes, no less)? In the author’s afterward and after doing a cursory search online, the common theories involve a misplaced noose that failed to break Anne’s neck or even fully throttle her. Combined with the very cold weather which may have saved her from death by lack of oxygen, Anne managed to survive.

Verdict: Newes from the Dead is a strong novel in terms of characters and skillful plotting. I certainly recommend it for anyone looking for a grittier young adult historical novel, and look forward to reading more of Ms. Hooper’s work!

Rating: 6 – Good, recommended

Reading next: Libyrinth by Pearl North