Review of The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley

Note: The Book Stop is on vacation!  This post was written in advance.  But please feel free to comment.

If you like well-written fantasy with a strong female character, this is the book for you.  The Hero and the Crown won a Newbery Medal in 1985, which is awarded once a year to the best novel in children’s literature.  This may be a children’s book, but the writing is incredibly adult.  McKinley gives us a fantasy novel that doesn’t rely on the standard tropes and doesn’t take any easy ways out.

Aerin is the daughter of the king of Damar, but she’s never been accepted by the people because her dead mother was rumored to be a witch who enspelled the king into marrying her.  Even worse, royalty in Damar are expected to manifest some magical talents by adolescence and Aerin has failed on that front.  She’s not beautiful, not talented, and mistrusted by her peers.  Her only support comes from her father, her best friend Tor, who is the next in line to be king, and her maid Teka.

Her life becomes more interesting when she rehabilitates Talat, the old and lamed horse who rescued her father in battle but hasn’t been ridden since.  She also creates a new way of riding without stirrups or a bridle.  She and Talat heal each other.  Then, while reading a book about fighting dragons, she discovers an ancient recipe for an ointment that protects skin from dragonfire.

In the world McKinley has created, dragons are small but because of their fire, incredibly dangerous to kill.  They prey on crops and villages, and it usually takes a team of trained warriors to slay one.  And lately, the threat of dragons has been increasing.

This is an incredible fantasy novel, and a surprisingly challenging read.  McKinley writes in a complex, lyrical style, which is at times almost dreamlike.  Most fantasy isn’t “literary” but this one is.

The book mixes the expected (dragon battles) with the unexpected (her visit to Luthe and the Lake of Dreams).  As with most fantasy, Aerin is destined for more than she realizes.  But each battle is hard fought and nothing comes easy to this heroine.

This is the kind of book I would love for my nieces to read, because I know it will make them think, but also because Aerin beats most heroines for bravery and strength.  I think this is a book you could read a few times and get more out of each time.

Review of Storm of Swords by George R. R. Martin

Storm of Swords is the third book in George R. R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series, and it will be airing on HBO beginning March 31.  It’s also the book most people say is their favorite in the series.  And while I found Book Two kind of disappointing, Book Three was worth the read.

If you haven’t read or watched Game of Thrones, and you’re wondering what all the fuss is about, these books are definitely fuss-worthy.  Martin has created a fantasy world on the scale of the Lord of the Rings, complete with detailed languages and history that goes back hundreds of years.  You get all the fun of brutal medieval battles plus dragons and zombies.  It’s fantasy, but what a lot of people love about Martin is that the humans come first in the story, and the fantasy creatures are kind of a backdrop.  For now anyway.

I enjoyed Book Three a lot more than Book Two – Book Two was a lot of battle strategy and also seemed like a transition book.  Plus Book Two seemed to spend a lot of time on the less likeable characters.  In contrast, Book Three felt like it gave you more on the characters you love, plus it really developed some characters that hadn’t been developed before (namely, Jaime Lannister).  Another thing I like about Martin is that there are characters you’re supposed to love, characters you’re supposed to hate, and then a bunch you’re not quite sure of.

I won’t deny that this book drove me crazy.  While I was reading it I thought it would never end.  I would watch the percentage meter on the bottom of my Kindle and it just did not budge.  You think these books are a quick easy read, but they are crammed so full of characters and back-history and cities and islands and kingdoms you need an encyclopedia sometimes to follow what’s going on.  You have to be able to tell the Martells from the Tyrells, for example, and you have to know that Davos is a character but Daavos is a town.  You have to know who is from which royal family, who’s a Brother of the Watch, and who’s a wildling.  Just for starters.  There is a guide in the back of the book if you need it.

Martin doesn’t make these books easy on the reader, but I kind of respect that.  It’s like you’re in his world now, and he’ll do what he wants with you.  Which includes making you wait a hundred pages or more to find out whether your favorite character lives or dies.  And with Martin’s books you know anyone can die at any time.  It’s amazing how much that adds to the suspense of a book.

Should a writer write for his readers?  You would think the answer is clearly yes, and yet… I recently heard an interview with writer Jennifer Egan on the subject of how much a writer should care about the opinions of readers while writing a book.  She received tons of comments on her “Powerpoint chapter” in A Visit from the Goon Squad, which won a 2011 Pulitzer and is supposedly being adapted as an HBO series.  A lot of readers told her they couldn’t get through that chapter and either skipped it or stopped reading at that point.  Egan says that chapter is one of the most pivotal in the book and she couldn’t have written it any other way.

I’m telling you nothing about Storm of Swords because anything plot-related would be a spoiler.  Read these books if you enjoy fantasy, or watch Game of Thrones and see if it suits you.  These books are long, complicated, and VIOLENT.  Just so you know.  But Martin has a way of sucking you into his world that very few writers can match.  So when I got close to the end, I felt relieved – and when it was over, I felt like something was missing in my life.

And now for a steamy romance novel… Highlander Most Wanted by Maya Banks

Every once in a while, I get a craving for a romance novel (this is me trying not to be defensive about what I read).  If I’m going to read a romance novel, what better than a good Scottish Highlander romance?  That seems to be the big thing right now – blame Diana Gabaldon, maybe, or Felicia Day.  But really, who doesn’t want to read about broad-chested, kilted Highlanders as they battle feuding clans and sweep Scottish lasses off their delicate feet?

Maya Banks’ novels look deliciously trashy and she’s very popular on Amazon, so I was happy to receive a copy of her newest book through NetGalley, even though it means coming in mid-series. Highlander Most Wanted is the second novel in the Montgomery and Armstrong series.

This novel wasn’t quite what I expected.  In fact its storyline is decidedly less trashy than most romances.  This novel tells the story of Genevieve McInnis, a woman who was kidnapped from her clan and imprisoned for a year by the McHugh clan.  The laird’s son, Ian McHugh, keeps Genevieve as his slave, forcing her into a life of destitution and humiliation.

What I liked about this book was Banks’ handling of this situation.  This isn’t sexual slavery in a Shades of Grey kind of way, and Genevieve’s situation isn’t minimized or too easily wiped away.  Our hero Bowen Montgomery doesn’t ride into town on his big steed and immediately bring Genevieve back to life.  No, Genevieve still has to suffer with the millions of reminders of her year of torment.  She still has to suffer from the scars, physical and emotional, and the disdain of the McHugh clan.  For a light read, this actually wasn’t a light read.

Genevieve is a great heroine, although I wish Bowen had been a little more layered.  His only flaw seems to be his lifetime of casual sex with hordes of willing females.  He’s sensitive and caring at all the right moments but Banks could have given him more personality by making him a whole lot less perfect.

I like to compare modern day historical romances with the ones I grew up on in the 80s, namely those of Kathleen Woodiwiss (Shanna, The Wolf and the Dove, Ashes in the Wind).  Novels of the 70s and 80s followed a lot of conventions: the heroine never has sex with anyone other than the hero, despite coming perilously close to being raped or married off to someone else.  The heroine and hero, despite their love for each other, encounter numerous misunderstandings that keep them from coming together.  The heroine and hero always end up married and with child – although not always in that order.

In modern day romances, it seems the authors have gotten rid of the “misunderstanding plot.”  When a character wants to know something, they just ask.  Instead of waiting until the end to say they love each other, they just come right out and say  it.  It’s a refreshing change, but it leaves the relationship a little lacking in conflict.   Bowen and Genevieve have tons of reasons to distrust each other.  She has no idea whether he’s using her and doesn’t seem to care.  He should be worried about whether she’s manipulating him, or he should be worried that she has no idea what love is (she’s simply fallen in love with the first man who didn’t beat and rape her).  He does question her feelings a little but that doesn’t stop him from trying to get her into bed.

So the big weakness for me in this book is the lack of conflict in their relationship.  True, there’s plenty of conflict elsewhere in their lives, but even the objections raised by their families are pretty toothless.

Another interesting thing about modern day historical romances is how much more sensitive the men are.  Bowen is ridiculously sensitive; he feels bad about his lifetime of sexual conquests, completely ignores Genevieve’s scarred face and sexual history, and seems only to live to make her feel better.  Kathleen Woodiwiss’ heroes were usually bastards who took first and later came around to understanding what it means to love.  As a modern woman I guess I should prefer the sensitive guy – but really I’m looking for a middle ground.

So, yes, I do like a good historical romance from time to time, even though I usually don’t write about them.  I know this post won’t get many comments as most people don’t read this stuff (or don’t admit to).  If you do, please share!  Favorite romance writer?  Favorite hero or heroine? What makes a good romance novel?

Note: I received an advance copy from NetGalley in exchange for a review.

Review of The Water Witch by Juliet Dark

This book popped up on NetGalley and looked like a good fluffy read.  It’s sort of urban fantasy, minus the urban, with a mix of fae, witches, and other supernatural creatures, with a little romance thrown in.

The plot of The Water Witch is basically that the town of Fairwick is in the midst of a fight between the witches and the fae.  The town’s witches want to close the last door between the human world and Faerie.  The fae want to keep it open so they can continue to go between the two worlds.  Presumably, the human world benefits from their abilities and vice versa, and these two groups have lived semi-peacefully together for many years.

Callie McFay is a part witch, part fae who is also a “doorkeeper”, which means she can keep the door open.  The only problem is her power seems to be restricted in some weird way and she has no magical training.  Oh, and she’s also trying to get over an obsession with Liam, an incubus who tried to drain the life from her (through sex of course).  He’s been banished to the Faerie world and she feels pretty bad about that.

Unfortunately, The Water Witch is actually a sequel, and I hate to read books out of order.  It’s a sequel to a book I’m sure I would never have picked up, called The Demon Lover.  It was immediately clear that I had missed a bunch of the story, but on the other hand, the first book mostly seemed to revolve around Callie’s amazing supernatural sex with Liam, so I don’t think I was lacking any important plot points.

It was pretty well written for urban fantasy.  Juliet Dark is a pseudonym for Carol Goodman, who has written a number of well-regarded books, and for obvious reasons didn’t want her name on this one.

I liked the parts of the story that involved paranormal beings like the undines, which are these part-fairy,  part-fish creatures.  The romance seemed ridiculous to me, but maybe it would have helped if I’d read Book One.  On second thought, no it wouldn’t.  I’m just trying to give this book a break.

The truth is, I put this book down a few times and didn’t really care one way or another – and yet I kept picking it back up.  It was an entertaining read, but very high on the cheese factor.  I’d rather be reading something more “weighty” but the holidays seemed to cry out for this kind of book.

I’m not entirely sure who this book is meant to appeal to – it’s steamy but without much romance, and it doesn’t have the usual leather-pants-wearing ass-kicking heroine to be urban fantasy.  As a heroine, Callie is weak and pretty stupid.  This isn’t a book I’d recommend unless you love this kind of thing.

Note: I received a complimentary copy of this book from NetGalley, in exchange for a review.  This book will be released February 12, 2013.

Tallula Rising: Glen Duncan’s sequel falls short

I loved The Last Werewolf, so I did something I don’t normally do – picked up its sequel right away.  Unfortunately, Tallula Rising disappointed, not just a little but a lot.  I took this book with me on vacation, and while it got me through several stressful days of travel headaches, once I got out of the airport I realized I was NOT enjoying this book.

WARNING: while I don’t think there are spoilers in this review, it is a sequel, so I don’t recommend reading this review if you’re thinking about reading the first book.  If you like horror/supernatural stories at all, STOP HERE and pick up The Last Werewolf.

But if you’ve read Werewolf, here’s my take on the sequel.  I gave some thought to why this book felt so different from the first book.  And here, in a nutshell, is what I came up with:

1)     I loved the character of Jake, but really disliked Tallula.  Jake had intellect and elegance.  He had 200-years perspective on life.  He was also a good friend and cared about the people who helped him along.  Yes, he kills people out of necessity but he tries to plan out who he killed and why.  Tallula, on the other hand, revels in the goriness of her werewolf life.  And while The Last Werewolf was about accepting your inner nature and coming to terms with contradictions, Tallula kind of just lives for food and sex.  She’s not much of a friend to her “handler”, and she does horrible things like chaining a girl in her basement for a month while she waits for the full moon so she can eat her.  Jake would never have kept someone captive and terrified like that.  And this was in the first chapter.  I remember thinking, ugh, I don’t like the way this book is starting out, but The Last Werewolf was so good I gave it a shot.

2)     Along the lines of not liking Tallula, I hated the kid storyline.  Tallula obsesses about being a mother but it’s not meaningful, it’s self-centered.  Sort of “poor me, what a bad parent I am” over and over again.  So of course, the reader is supposed to think “but no, you’re worrying so much that you’re really a good parent”.  Bleh.

3)     Violence.  Violence.  Violence.  I said in my review of The Last Werewolf that I really appreciated how Duncan told a gory story but really skirted the lines of acceptable and necessary violence – for me, at least.  This book crossed my violence threshold early and often.  I wish I’d put it down halfway through — before some incidents in the book got stuck in my head (once there they don’t come out).  There’s violence as in “I can’t help eating this helpless person” and then there’s violence as in prolonged torture and degradation.  I’ll spare you the details since I wish I’d been spared.  I’ll just say again, bleh.

Here’s a link to a Tor.com review that’s a little more balanced.  Reviewer Alex Brown says “reading Talulla Rising was an experience riddled with ambivalency.”  I like what this review has to say about a rape scene in the book.  This part of the book was a perfect example of violence that adds something to a story, that isn’t just there for shock value.  Unfortunately I didn’t find much of that in this book.

The first book was thoughtful, explored new ideas and had an unexpected story and point of view – but this sequel just felt like a poor rehash of those ideas.  It’s just the same characters with more action and horror.  I think that’s an easy trap for a sequel to fall into. But I expected more from Glen Duncan.

Review of Alanna by Tamora Pierce

Note: The Book Stop is officially on vacation.  So I pulled an older review I never got around to posting.  Enjoy!

I’ve been wanting to read something by Tamora Pierce for a long time, since I enjoy young adult fantasy and this book is considered one of the best.  However, I think as with most series, the first book is a little more set-up and I expect the books get better as you go.

This book was also a little “younger” than I anticipated.  I was hoping for something with the complexity of Sabriel, but this was a lot more basic.  I wouldn’t call Alanna a young adult book, I’d say it’s perfect for the fourth-fifth grade range.

The book is set in a standard medieval fantasy world.  Alanna and her twin brother Thom are thirteen and being shipped off to school.  Thom is off to the knights academy, and Alanna is off to the convent.  However, Thom wants to study sorcery and Alanna wants to fight, so they switch places.  Alanna disguises herself as Alan and somehow fools everyone around her into thinking she’s a boy.

What’s good about the book – Alanna is good at a lot of things but she also has to work really hard to succeed in knights’ training.  This isn’t one of those stories where everything comes easily to the magical hero or heroine.  Alanna has to spend her nights training in swordsmanship and during the day has to fight the school bully.  She does, however, have a gift for healing and is clearly destined to become some higher power.

Alanna lives in a time where there used to be female warriors, and a female knight is unexpected but not as ridiculous as it might seem.  The interesting thing about the book is that Alanna has to come to terms with her own identity.  She’s sure if her friends discover she’s a girl they will hate her.  She cringes every time people look at her closely and it’s clear she can’t keep up the deception for long, if only for her own sanity.  It’s this extra layer of complexity that makes the book better than most.

I think this book might be one I needed to have read as a girl, sort of like Anne of Green Gables.  There are a lot of young adult books that are just as good when read by adults, but this wasn’t one of them.  If I was a girl I’m sure I would have loved Alanna; in fact I remember very few great heroines when I was young and reading fantasy.   If you’re looking for good fiction for a daughter or niece, this is a good pick, and I’m guessing the series gets even better as it goes.

I know Tamora Pierce has a lot of fans out there, so I’ll ask, is this the right place to start?  Should I keep reading or go to one of her series for older readers?  Similarly, the next author I need to read is Diana Wynne Jones — any recommendations for her?

Review of The Last Werewolf by Glen Duncan

Earlier this week I wrote about gushy bloggers and whether we’re not critical enough.  For myself, I’m trying not to just “love” all over a book but really explain what did that for me.

But — I’m just going to say I loved this book.  There.  That’s it.

You’re thinking, one more werewolf book.  Haven’t we seen enough?  Isn’t this a genre that’s way over done, thanks to Twilight?  And what’s the fascination with werewolves anyway?

This is a werewolf story written for grown-ups.  And by that I’m not just talking about sex and violence.  Duncan gives us – in a gripping, non-stop story – a book that will really make you think about why monster fiction appeals to us so much.

Jake Marlowe is the Last Werewolf.  He finds out in the first chapter that the hunter who has made it his mission to eradicate all werewolves has killed the second to last one.  Jake is now alone, and hunted.  He’s to be the ultimate trophy.  Only the hunt has to wait a month, so Jake has one month’s time to think and plan – whether to run or to just give in.  He’s 200 years old and tired of the battle.

Why are we fascinated by monsters?  Is it the idea that we all have multiple sides to our personalities, and some of those sides aren’t so nice?  Is it the idea that we all do horrible things sometimes and sometimes, secretly and shamefully, enjoy them?  This book reminded me a lot of Jekyll and Hyde – it’s not just that we have a civilized side and a dark, uninhibited side.  That nice part of us is inside watching and it really enjoys that bad self.

The other great thing about “monster” stories, is that the good ones usually turn the idea of a monster on its head.  Who’s the monster here, the beast who eats people (well yes) or the hunters to extinguish his whole species?

If none of that rings any bells for you, you’re probably not a horror reader.  I can’t explain exactly why horror appeals to me, especially when I have pretty low tolerance for the sight of blood or any description of torture.  But I’ve been reading Stephen King and fantasy and horror since I was a child – and it draws me.  I think horror explains the human condition, in a way that actually doesn’t keep you up at night because it’s not real, compared to true stories about monsters we really have to live with.  A movie I saw recently comes to mind, The Whistleblower, about sex trafficking.  Let me tell you, I have yet to get that movie out of my head.  Vampires, werewolves, and wizards?  They’re a metaphor.  At least we think they are…

In this book you have a main character who eats live people – no eating rabbits or going vegetarian in Duncan’s world — and yet Jake is one of the most likeable, relatable characters I’ve read in a while.  Maybe it’s his depression and angst.  Maybe it’s his fight to accept who he is, to be good to his friends, and to carve out some enjoyment once in a while in a life that’s so filled with blood and guilt.  Maybe the idea of living and fighting versus giving in appeals to me.

This book won’t be for everyone.  Jake’s narration can be long-winded, although I personally enjoyed it.  You never forget this guy has been around for 200 years.  Is it because people thought in a different way in his time, or just because he’s had an awfully long time to analyze himself and his fellow man?  If his voice was that of a modern narrator it wouldn’t resonate for me.

I sipped, swallowed, glimpsed the peat bog plashing white legs of the kilted clan Macallan as the whisky kindled in my chest.  It’s official.  You’re the last.  I’m sorry.  I’d known what he was going to tell me.  Now that he had, what?  Vague ontological vertigo.  Kubrik’s astronaut with the severed umbilicus spinning away all alone into infinity…  At a certain point one’s imagination refused.  The phrase was: It doesn’t bear thinking about.  Manifestly it didn’t.

For some readers there may be too much gore, or too much sexuality in this book.  I found the book to be so well written, it’s all a vital part of the story.

This is one of the very few books where I almost picked up the sequel the minute I read the last page.  Almost.  But I like to give a good book time to settle in my brain, and this one’s worth it.

Review of Poison Study by Maria Snyder

I’m leaving town for a few days and won’t have much time to write reviews or post anything.  The latest entry in my Fluffy-Summer-Travel-Reading series is Poison Study by Maria V. Snyder (I also didn’t think I could do The Moonstone justice in a short review).

I found a surprising number of different covers for this book, so I’ve copied them at the end of the post.  The one to the right is my favorite, which one’s yours?

Here’s the description from Goodreads (you can see I’m taking shortcuts here):

About to be executed for murder, Yelena is offered an extraordinary reprieve. She’ll eat the best meals, have rooms in the palace—and risk assassination by anyone trying to kill the Commander of Ixia.

And so Yelena chooses to become a food taster. But the chief of security, leaving nothing to chance, deliberately feeds her Butterfly’s Dust—and only by appearing for her daily antidote will she delay an agonizing death from the poison.

As Yelena tries to escape her new dilemma, disasters keep mounting. Rebels plot to seize Ixia and Yelena develops magical powers she can’t control. Her life is threatened again and choices must be made. But this time the outcomes aren’t so clear…

I enjoyed the book and found a lot of it very original, which is rare in a lot of fantasy books.  Yelena is a strong character who has to wrestle with a lot of demons and fight to find her place in the world.  I liked how she develops throughout the book, from someone who is just grateful to be alive and well-treated, even though basically a slave, to someone who has growing power and dignity.  Snyder gives Yelena a well-developed history that makes her a sympathetic and unique character.

I also really enjoyed the political issues raised in the book.  Yelena works for the Commander, who is at first seen as a tyrant who overthrew the last king and killed all his relatives and advisors.  But we gradually come to see the Commander as a more nuanced ruler.  Politics, trade and commerce are important in the country of Ixia, which made it a much more real place.

The side characters in the book – Rand, Valek, and Ari among others – are also well-developed, although I wanted more from  Valek’s character.  Valek is Yelena’s trainer and basically her captor.  She lives in his room (mostly for her protection from thugs who hate her) and he doles out an antidote to poison each day that keeps her alive but enslaved.  Their relationship, based on distrust and power and captivity, is an interesting one.

On the other hand, we hear from the other characters about all the fearful, horrible things Valek has done as chief to the Commander.  We’re not sure what’s true anymore than Yelena does.  But I did think Valek’s character disappointed by the end of the book.  I wanted more moral ambiguity, more of him being caught between his political responsibilities and sympathy for Yelena.  Instead he ends up feeling watered-down.  But saying any more would tell you too much of the plot.

One of the biggest flaws in the book (and it’s still a good read) is that Snyder sets up this really compelling story about what it’s like to be a food-taster.  Yelena has to learn to nibble, swirl, inhale, etc (like drinking a good glass of wine) and use every sense to detect the slightest wrong taste in the Commander’s food.  If she succeeds, she saves the Commander’s life but could die herself.  Her job is to tell the world with her last gasping breath what poison she tasted.  As the title suggests, Yelena has to really study to get this right.

But Snyder leads us pretty far from the Poison Taster story.  Yes, there’s magic and intrigue, betrayal, love, and even acrobatics.  But the story kind of loses focus for me.  Understandably, Yelena’s “job” doesn’t take up much of her day, so she has to do other things.

And the love story is on the weak side.  Okay the very weak side.  I just didn’t get there.

This book had many of the fantasy genre tropes I talked about with Magic Lost, Trouble Found, but it still has a much more original story.

As promised, alternate covers of the book:

If Felicia likes it, it has to be good… Magic Lost, Trouble Found by Lisa Shearin

I picked up this book, despite its super-cheesy cover, because Felicia Day loves this author.  And as a total Felicia Day wanna-be I figured it was worth the few bucks it cost me.

Which is not to say I have entirely the same reading taste as Felicia Day — she reads a whole lot more urban fantasy than I do — but her opinion kinda means something.  You can find her book reviews here.  And see here for her hilarious take on Scottish romance novels (thankfully she liked Outlander or I might have to call it quits).

The other reason I picked it up is that the reviews for this series go way up after the first book, so it’s fair to see this as a starter.  Shearin clearly gets better as she goes.  The problem with that is I really don’t want another long series to read; I’m not finishing most of the ones I’ve already started.

(I’m thinking we need a “Finish the Series Challenge” so I can knock a few series out before I start any more new ones.  Anyone?)

So, hmmm.  This is a pretty cheesy-sounding book with a laugh-out-loud cover, and really the urban fantasy genre seems really tired to me.  I actually tried starting this book three times and it didn’t take until I got stuck on a plane last week for four hours with nothing better to do (this was my “read when they make me turn off the Kindle” book).

The story?  It’s about an elf named Raine Benares who comes from a no-good family in the city of Mermeia.  Raine is a seeker, someone who finds people or things that generally should be left unfound. She’s got fairly middle-of-the-road powers until she helps a friend out and ends up with a magical amulet around her neck which gives her superpowers but can’t be taken off without killing her.  And unfortunately, there are a number of factions, including the goblin king, his evil torture-master, and his disgruntled brother, who want to do exactly that.

This book has all the tropes of the urban fantasy genre: the brave and sassy heroine; the heretofore unknown parent with serious magical power; the sexy non-human love interest (in this book there’s a goblin and an elf); the magical artifact that has to be contained before it’s used for evil and destroys the whole world; and the fight scenes where the heroine faces overwhelmingly bad odds but somehow magically knows what to do.

I’d say if you like the genre, this is a good book to pick up.  It took some getting into, but once I did the story was fun, it moves at a good pace and the characters are likeable although not terribly deep. It never takes itself seriously and never gets too violent, which I appreciated.

On the other hand, I didn’t see much that was original here. Shearin has built a fairly complex world, but once you get past the weird vocabulary (what’s a primaru?) it reads pretty much like the other books of the genre, only perhaps a little more irreverent.

Still, Book One is clearly set-up for the rest of the series, so I may have to pick up Book Two.  The cool thing is, by the time you get to Book 4, the heroine starts looking a lot tougher — and a lot more like Felicia Day.

 

Review of The Drowned Cities by Paulo Bacigalupi

I’ve become a big fan of Paulo Bacigalupi after reading his short stories and his first YA novel, Ship Breakers.  Bacigalupi is not only a great writer and world-builder, but like all good science fiction or dystopian fiction, he makes really compelling statements about the world we live in.

The Drowned Cities is no exception.  This is a book about two children, Mouse and Mahlia, who live on the edge of the war-torn Drowned Cities.  Mahlia is the daughter of a Chinese peacekeeper.  In this world, peacekeepers had been sent to control the Drowned Cities, but at some point they abandon the city, and when they leave the retribution is brutal.  Mahlia’s mother is violently murdered and Mahlia has her hand chopped off.   Her friend Mouse saved her life, and together they are fortunate to have been taken in by a kind doctor.  But in this savage and violent world, their life isn’t going to stay calm for very long.

While violent, Bacigalupi has created an incredible world, full of warring political factions, children trained as soldiers, and genetically enhanced creatures who are enslaved to the government as fighting machines.

Mahlia and Mouse, struggling to survive, run into Tool, a dog-man introduced in Bacigalupi’s earlier book, Ship Breakers.  Tool is an intelligent being bred and trained as a weapon of war.  He’s half man, half beast, with the sensory perception of a dog and incredible strength.  The dog-men are bred to be devoted to their masters, yet Tool somehow breaks away from a life of slavery and seeks his own path.

The setting of the Drowned Cities is based on Washington, DC, although I admit I didn’t pick up on that for most of the book.  Once you do, the parallels are really fascinating and make me want to read the book over again.

Bacigalupi’s writing is incredible, from the first sentences of the book.

Chains clanked in the darkness of the holding cells.

The reek of urine from the latrines and the miasma of sweat and fear twined with the sweet stench of rotting straw.  Water dripped, trickling down ancient marble work, blackening what was once fine with mosses and algae.

Humidity and heat.  The whiff of the sea, far off, a cruel, tormenting scent that told the prisoners they would never taste freedom again.  Sometimes a prisoner, a Deepwater Christian or a Rust Saint devotee, would call out, praying, but mostly the prisoners waited in silence, saving their energy.

The best thing about this book is that Bacigalupi really develops the characters and the friendship between them.  There is a devastating hopelessness to the lives of these two children, yet they continue to fight for each other.  Mahlia has learned at a very young age that the only way to survive is to put herself first – but she also has to learn that sometimes putting the people you love first is the only way you can live with yourself.

I’ve read a lot of young adult fiction recently that I found to be incredibly adult.  And not because of sexuality – I mean a combination of complexity, traumatic subject matter and violence that makes me wonder why we call these books YA.  What makes a book “young adult” fiction?  Is it when the main characters are young?  Does it have to do with length or complexity of the book?  I think I’ve decided it’s a marketing tool more than anything else.  And I’m not sure it matters.  But I have a very hard time calling this book YA.

I loved this book even though it was incredibly violent, and in a brutal, graphic way that really got to me.  Bacigalupi doesn’t write about death, he writes about torture and fear.  He makes you think about how innocent people can be turned into killers and how people lose their humanity.  But at the same time, he really takes you into the minds and hearts of his characters, and creates a vivid and terrifying future.

I highly recommend this book — although not so much for younger readers.