Review of Over Sea, Under Stone by Susan Cooper

Over Sea, Under Stone is the first of five books in Susan Cooper’s classic children’s series, The Dark is Rising.  She won a Newbery award for the fourth book, The Grey King.  It’s on my Classics Club list and also counts towards the Around the World in 12 Books Challenge.  March’s country is Wales, and even though this book takes place in England, it’s based on Welsh folklore.

I’m not sure how I missed this series as a child, but this book was a fun read, if a little traditional.  It’s based on Arthurian legend – and according to Wikipedia, is a mix of Celtic and Norse mythology as well.  It’s classic English fantasy – a little lighter than C.S. Lewis and darker than E. Nesbit, and Edward Eager.  Three children, Jane, Barney and Simon, come to Cornwall for a holiday.  Their parents, as in all great children’s fantasy, are absent for most of the book.  And then there’s mysterious Uncle Merry.  Of course they’re staying in a mysterious old house, and on the first rainy day, they decide to explore and they discover a very old, very cryptic map.  This sets them on a quest to find King Arthur’s Holy Grail, before the forces of darkness can find it.

Since Book One is clearly a set-up for the rest of the series, it’s difficult to review.  I’ll just say it was a quick and entertaining read, although a little far-fetched a few times, as the children escape their evil pursuers just a little too easily.  On the other hand, their escapes may be part of their enemy’s evil design.  The children know that by searching for the Grail, they run the huge risk of leading the enemy right to it – but they go ahead anyway.  There were a few times I wanted to slap them – but then this is a book written for kids, not for me.  This felt like a “starter” book – written for younger kids but wanting to be a lot darker.

Still, I enjoyed the Arthurian background and who doesn’t like a good treasure hunt?  It’s Narnia without the religion, which I appreciated.  Character development was good for this kind of book and I expect will grow a lot in the future books.  I hope to see Jane’s character developed further as the boys had a lot of the adventures in this book.

If you’ve read the series, I’d love to hear whether I should keep reading.  The other fantasy series I need to read is the one by Lloyd Alexander.  Which would you recommend?

Review of The Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling

I don’t want to say very much about this book (which is hard for me) but I will say it wasn’t what I expected.

Here’s what you already know: The Casual Vacancy is about the sudden death of Barry Fairbrother in a small English town named Pagford.  Barry’s death leaves a lot of holes in this town, from his open seat on the town council (which is what the term “casual vacancy” means) to his role as a mentor and coach to the town’s youth.

Pagford is beautiful to look at and peaceful on its surface, but this is a book that explores the hearts and minds of the people that live there.  It’s about the dark “underbelly” that exists among these seemingly perfect and well-meaning families in this town.

If you find this exploration depressing, I think that’s Rowling’s intent.  In Harry Potter we got good versus evil.  A few people struggled with what side they were on, but most people didn’t.  Pagford is real life: we don’t have a side.  Most of us are kind and mean at the same time, smart but ignorant, biased but open-minded.  We’re giving to the community but selfish at home, or vice versa.  We think our intentions are good but in actuality we care more about what people think.  We compete with our neighbors to feel good about ourselves, and sometimes that means wanting other people to fail.

The main characters are six families: the Mollisons, who are sort of the “First Family” of Pagford; the Walls, who run the local high school (Dad’s the headmaster, Mom’s the guidance counselor); the Jawandas, a Pakistani family who are from Birmingham and struggle with Pagford’s small town narrow-mindedness; the Bawdens, a single social worker and her daughter who just recently moved to town; the Prices (abusive father); and the Weedons, an impoverished, drug-addicted mother that lives in The Fields, which is basically the wrong side of the tracks.

This book reminded me that Rowling may be the richest woman in the world, but she also knows something about poverty.  One thing I hope readers will take away is a better understanding of the cycle of poverty– from the struggle with addiction, the exposure to violence, and the public blame and rejection. Unfortunately it’s much harder than most of us realize to climb out of that cycle.

I was also reminded that Rowling really knows something about teenagers to write them the way she does.  The teenagers in Harry Potter weren’t exactly realistic, but you did get real emotion: insecurity, emotion, first kisses.  Here, you get that and a lot more.  This book reminded me what it was like to be a teenager, in heartbreaking detail.

You care about the adults but you also hate them, especially when they turn a blind eye to their children.  But if you don’t ache for Krystal, Sukhvinder, Andrew, Gaia, and Fats, then you’re missing something.

This book won’t be for everyone.  It’s a slow, meandering story even though it doesn’t cover a lot of time.  And while it’s filled with sex, drugs and violence, not much happens.  There are lots of characters and you might wish Rowling focused on just a few – or made those few a little more likeable than she did.  It’s dark – like you’re being sucked into a whirlpool and drowning.

But for me, this book really worked.  It sort of reminded me of an older Stephen King novel, like The Stand, where he gives you a ton of characters but really gets in their heads.  And it isn’t so much what’s happening that’s the story – it’s what people are thinking and feeling.

Is The Casual Vacancy literature?  I have no idea, but then that’s always a tricky question.  It’s well-written in a plain-spoken kind of way.  Has small-town bias, racism and class warfare been done better?  I’m sure it has.

If you’re looking for Harry Potter, this book will disappoint.  In every other way, it didn’t.

Review: Pigeon English by Stephen Kelman

Last week we were talking about the Man Booker nominees, and the general consensus was that the list is usually on the dull and uninspiring side.  If that’s the case, then Pigeon English must be an exception.  I absolutely loved this book.

Pigeon English tells the story of an eleven year old boy living in a very rough neighborhood in England.  Harri and his family are from Ghana; his mother emigrated with Harri and his older sister Lydia, while Harri’s father, grandmother, and baby sister remain in Ghana.  Already at a pretty tough age, Harri must deal with living in a totally new environment, negotiating a culture where gangs and violence are everyday occurrences.  He sees himself as the “man of the house” while his father is away; the irony is that the reader can see how much Harri’s mother and sister need to take care of him.

At the beginning of the book, a boy that Harri knew is found murdered.  Harri becomes obsessed by finding the boy’s killer.  His friend Dean, an avid watcher of the television show CSI, provides him with strategies like collecting fingerprints with tape and interviewing witnesses.  Harri seems to know this is a dangerous pursuit, but it’s almost like his life is so infused with violence, this one thing doesn’t seem any more dangerous than going to school each day.

 Me and the dead boy were only half friends, I didn’t see him very much because he was older and didn’t go to my school.  He could ride his bike with no hands and you never even wanted him to fall off… I pretended like if I kept looking hard enough I could make the blood move and go back in the shape of a boy.  I could bring him back alive that way.

Often when authors write from the perspective of a child narrator, it doesn’t come off as being authentic.  This book does.  Now, I can’t tell you what a young boy from Ghana living in England would actually sound like.  But I can say that I never forgot, as I was reading the book, that Harri was a child.  He’s written with exuberance and innocence, while having to deal with things that are definitely not innocent.   What is so brilliant about this book is the way the narrator speaks with his own voice, but as a reader you can see both the child’s perspective and the adult’s at the same time.  And it’s that contrast that really makes the book powerful.

Harri is a boy through and through – he loves to jump in puddles, run in the wind, and scream in tunnels to hear the sound it makes.  He imagines what kind of superhero he’d be.  He talks to pigeons and really cares about how they feel.  He notices the things we adults are too busy or practical to notice.  He jumps from topic to topic, easily distracted and doesn’t dwell too long on anything.

 I don’t have a favourite raindrop, they’re all as good as each other.  They’re all the best.  That’s what I think anyway.  I always look up at the sky when it’s raining.  It feels brutal.  It’s a bit hutious because the rain’s so big and fast and you think it will go in your eye.  But you have to keep your eyes open or you won’t get the feeling.  I try to follow one raindrop all the way down from the cloud to the ground.  Asweh, it’s impossible.  All you can see is the rain.  You can’t follow just one raindrop, it’s too busy and all the other raindrops get in the way.

The best bit is running in the rain.  If you point your face up to the sky at the same time as running, it nearly feels like you’re flying.  You can close your eyes or you can keep them open, it’s up to you.  I like both.  You can open your mouth if you want.  The rain just tastes like water from the tap except it’s quite warm.  Sometimes it tastes like metal.

He has good friends but is surrounded by ugliness.  He comes to accept the threats of the local gang, and the things he must do to please them.  He knows the “safe” parts of the neighborhood and the unsafe parts.  His mother tries to keep him away from the boys that are trouble, but she can do very little to protect him.

Harri longs for Ghana and the rest of his family.  He remembers his childhood in Ghana in a way that’s so idealized, it may not be quite true.  He remembers times that he and his friends were called upon to help others, where in England he is expected to fight and steal and commit dangerous pranks like throwing stones at the school bus.  He tries to stay “good” but also knows that he needs to fit in.  And as a boy, he often lacks an adult sense of the consequences of his actions.  He only knows he has to prove himself.

I loved the way this book was written; it could be crude and ugly and at the same time absolutely beautiful.  I’m willing to bet there aren’t a lot of books on the Man Booker list that mention farting as much as this one does.  But Kelman also describes Harri’s love for his family and his excitement about the world around him.  Harri is funny and sentimental but his world is brutal.  Kelman writes this book based on his own experience growing up in a “housing estate” in England.  His description of this life is heart-breaking at times, even though Harri doesn’t always understand that.  Like when he talks about the kids daring each other to lick a crack spoon in the playground, or when an illegal immigrant in their neighborhood is deported, or when their playground burns down:

 All the metal was gone black and the rope from the net was burned off and dying.  The fire was very hot.  When I got close it made me go proper itchy.  It felt lovely and sleepy.  It was the biggest fire I’ve ever seen.

The title of the story, a play on the term “pidgin English”, comes from Harri’s love of pigeons, and his friendship (mostly in his own imagination) with a particular pigeon. I loved Harri’s conversations with the pigeons, like this one:

 There was a pigeon with only one leg.  He was nearly as lovely as mine.  He could still walk quite good.  He was just hopping along the edge of the green looking for worms.

Me: ‘Did you lose your leg in a pigeon war or did a cat get it?  Were you born like that?  Don’t worry, you’re safe, I’ll tell you if I see any bad kids.  I won’t let them bash you.’

Pigeon: ‘ ’

This is an example of what I mean when I say this book really feels like it’s written from the voice of a child (but with the knowledge of an adult).  Some of the story is even told from the pigeon’s perspective.  It’s strange and

If we could visit the places in our favorite books…

This week’s Literary Blog Hop, hosted by The Blue Bookcase, asks the question “what literary setting (time or place) would you most like to visit”?

There are many places I’d love to visit, like Australia or South Africa or India, but those places aren’t tied to books I’ve read and loved.

Two very different answers to the question come to mind. If you read this blog regularly my first answer won’t surprise. If I had the opportunity, I would love to visit a fantasy world. I’d like to know that somewhere in the world there is magic and wizardry, even with all the scariness that comes with those things.

Oz is absolutely my first choice because it’s a joyful, wondrous place even when it’s dark and threatening.  It’s a place that couldn’t be explored in fourteen books, or twenty, or fifty, so I’d never run out of new things to see.  It’s a place full of strange and fantastic creatures, people that shouldn’t be able to think or move but do, of hundreds of different beings and civilizations that all think differently.  You can be unique in Oz and still be part of the community.

I’d also love to see the world of Hogwarts and Harry Potter.  It would be nicer of course to visit a post-Voldemort Harry Potter world (or say, a post-Sauron Middle-Earth) but what a cop-out.  No, if you’re going to visit, you visit the time and place of the books, with all the danger that goes with them.

In the real world, when I think of the literary settings that have most captivated me, I think of remote, countryside areas of Great Britain.  As a child if you’d asked me this question (and if Oz was not an option) my answer would have been the moors of The Secret Garden.  Hands down.  This is not only one of my favorite books but the setting of this book IS the main character in a lot of ways.  Annie Lennox is a surly, forgotten child who becomes captivated by the moors, her gothic old house and a garden grown wild.  The people in the book are important but all are a part of the setting they inhabit.  Even the sound of the moors are almost a character in this book.  I love the connection between the wildness of the land, and the wildness of the characters – they are tough, independent, and individualistic.  The land is something they connect to, not just a place they live.

As an adult, a similar place comes to mind, which is the heath of Thomas Hardy’s The Return of the Native, and for similar reasons.  Egdon Heath is a living breathing character in this book, and it influences the lives of everyone who lives there.  It’s not a pretty, happy place, but a dark, wild, mystical place.  Sure, a tropical island would be a nicer place to be – but if there’s a place from a book I’d like to experience, it’s this one.

I’m a city girl, through and through.  Never lived in a small town, much less a cottage in the wilderness.  Maybe that’s why it appeals.

Now here’s a twist on the question – have you actually visited a place from a novel you loved?  Did you go for that reason?  What did you think?

Two of my favorite places in the world are the Highlands of Scotland, and Bath, England.  Bath, you may know, is the home of Jane Austen and the setting of  Northanger Abbey which I’m currently reading.  I was in Bath about 11 years ago – my husband proposed there.  It’s a beautiful city, made even more interesting by the juxtaposition of the Jane Austen-like setting above ground, and the ancient Roman baths below ground.  It’s like visiting two different time periods (three counting ours) all at one time.  Bath loves its Jane Austen history so there is plenty to see, although we didn’t do much of that on our visit.  But just wandering among the streets and buildings brings you a sense of Jane Austen’s books.

Now I could come up with some work of Scottish literature to represent my trip to the Highlands, but I fully admit that it was the Outlander books of Diana Gabaldon that inspired my trip to Scotland.  It didn’t disappoint in any way.  Every part of Scotland I saw was beautiful but I particularly remember my visits to Culloden and a hike to see a circle of standing stones.  While there I also enjoyed my less-literary visits to distilleries and pubs,  the Edinburgh castle, the museums of Glasgow, and Loch Ness.  The Isle of Skye in particular felt like an almost magical place.

A third “literary” place I’ve visited is Greece.  Seeing the ruins of ancient Greece — the Acropolis, the Temple of Zeus, and others — was an absolutely amazing experience.  I grew up loving Greek mythology for all the reasons I love fantasy.  But to go somewhere and put your hands on an actual temple, built thousands of years ago to honor these gods, makes you realize these aren’t just stories, they were a whole life and culture.

So, is there a place you want to go?  A book where the setting sucked you in so much you felt you were there, or wished you were?  A place you’ve been to that was inspired by a favorite book?  Let me know what you think…

In the Middle of Middlemarch (Reading the Classics Part 1)

Reading about bloggers’ favorite books recently inspired me to pick up some classics I missed in college.  A lot of people mentioned Middlemarch as a favorite. I always meant to read something by George Eliot so this was long overdue, and I’m really enjoying it so far.

A couple of months ago I wrote a post about reading books because we feel we ought to, and how long do you slog through a book before you go to something you like better (usually something “fluffier”).  This is a long, meandering novel with a lot of different plotlines, and Eliot’s prose is not always easy to follow – especially the detailed discussions about religion and politics.  That said, this is NOT a book I’ve wanted to put down.  It’s the way I feel about Austen and Hardy most of the time – sure, it’s literature but it’s also kind of fun to read.  But at the same time it gives you a lot to think about.

I won’t review the book here, but wanted to mention that another blog, Things Mean A Lot, is hosting a blog read-along of Middlemarch next week if you want to join in.

George Eliot is an interesting writer because she’s one of the few women writers in the British literary canon – but she also published under a pseudonym so people thought she was male.  Even though some female writers were published at the time, she said that she wanted her books to be taken seriously, rather than treated as romance novels.  She was quite successful during her life time, and although her identity was revealed fairly early in her career as a novelist; and though she met with societal disapproval, her books remained popular.  She also spent twenty years in a common-law relationship with George Lewes, a married man, and did not have any children.   Throughout her life she seems to have reinvented herself numerous times and broken with tradition and family expectations of her. Middlemarch was published in 1871 in serial form and a few years later in one volume.

The book broadly describes provincial life and the major political issues of the day (early 1800s) but the main character is Dorothea, who is very intense but not terribly practical. She wants to devote her life to intellectual study and doing good works, and has no interest in the things that interest most other people like marriage, children, home, money, or possessions.  Her sister Celia is smarter, but not in an intellectual way.  Instead she has a greater understanding of life and people, and you can tell she’ll probably be happier for it.

One thing I’m loving about this book is how different all the characters are, and how all of them are strong and weak in different ways.  At this point in the story no character is an absolute hero or villain.  I also like that this book really takes you inside the different marriages and shows you how each couple changes over time, and how small rifts in communication can grow and cause problems.  No one in this book seems to be perfect for each other, but maybe some of them can make it work. I guess I’ll see.

So that’s it for now.  It’s taking me a long time to read so I wanted to post an “interim report.” Also wanted to share what an unexpectedly cool book this is.

And on that note, are there classics you love?  Ones you read, or reread, just for fun (or wish you had time to reread)?  Are there classics you’ve never read but have always wanted to?  Some of my favorites are The Return of the Native, Emma, Tom Jones, and David Copperfield, to start with. And on my “mean-to-read” list: Anna Karenina, The Woman in White, Bleak House, and I really ought to read something by Henry James or Theodore Dreiser or William Faulkner (I’m open to suggestions).

And now, I’m going back to my reading…

Review: The Devil’s Company by David Liss

The Devil’s Company continues the story of Benjamin Weaver, a Jew in early 1700’s England who used to be a pugilist and now makes his living as a “thief-taker” – in other words, he tracks people down.  In this story, Weaver is blackmailed into taking a case that requires him to infiltrate the East India Company and investigate a possible murder.  Once inside, he learns that the Company is fighting to retain the legal right to sell textiles imported from India, while the local silk weavers are fighting for legislation that allows only the selling of domestic cloth.  Beyond these basic facts, very little in the story is obvious and no one is who they say they are.

Liss’ historical fiction is excellent – his strengths are his vivid description, colorful language and well-developed characters.  As a character Ben Weaver is not your typical English detective – he’s rough, doesn’t shy away from violence, and relies more on intimidation than intellect to solve the crime.  In this book he is easily fooled, again and again.  In the very beginning he is hired on to carry out a gambling scam – when it goes wrong and he is implicated, I was surprised he didn’t see the trick for what it was.  As a character, he is not an intellectual, but he is endearing because of his strength, dedication to his friends, and his unwavering sense of justice.  As a Jew in this time he is not quite accepted by English society, and this is an interesting (and I think important) dynamic to read about.

What I really enjoy about Liss’ books is the focus on economics.  Where other writers focus on royal intrigue or military conflicts, his books really get into detail about the economics of the day.  I learned a lot in this book about the East India Company and how trade with India affected people at many different socioeconomic levels.

One of Weaver’s weaknesses as a character, which keeps him three-dimensional, is that he doesn’t know how to relate to women.  He pines for a woman who will not marry him and desires a woman he knows is a spy.  At several points in the book, women challenge his stereotypical ideas about women.  His aunt finds him shocked that she could run his uncle’s company.  And Celia Glade challenges his idea that a woman must be innocent, when the reality of this time in England is that many women lose their “innocence” early in order to survive.  He is infatuated with her but still disapproves of her – he won’t seduce her himself but he’s jealous of the other men she flirts with.  What’s nice about the way Weaver is written is that he himself seems aware of these contradictions but also seems helpless to resolve them.  At least while there are murders, blackmail, and conspiracy to deal with.

This was an entertaining read, with interesting characters and rich in historical detail.  Its one weakness may be a plot that twists and turns a bit more than necessary, particularly towards the end.  That aside, I highly recommend it.

Review: Changeless by Gail Carriger

I greatly enjoyed the first book in this series, Soulless, primarily because of its unique voice and story. The world of fantasy these days seems to take itself much too seriously and this series was refreshing in its different view of the supernatural , its setting in the Victorian era, and its humorous voice. It makes fun of the social conventions of the time, becoming a sort of parody of Jane Austen while at the same time blending vampires and werewolves with the science and politics of the times. One detraction of the writing of Soulless was the author’s repetition of key points and phrases in a way that became extremely tiresome… I understood that heroine Miss Tarabotti was Italian, dark-skinned, full-figured, had a large nose, and was therefore less attractive than her peers, and as a reader I appreciated having a heroine who was not perfectly beautiful. But I also didn’t need to read the same phrases and points over and over again.

So my thoughts were mixed upon completing Soulless – and as I started Changeless I almost put it down because I felt that the writing was too over the top to the point of being annoying. I’m glad I persisted past the first chapter, because the story and characters quickly become engaging, and again, much more original than many of the books I see today in this genre. Miss Tarabotti must investigate what force is causing the supernatural beings – werewolves, vampires, and ghosts – to lose their powers and become mortal. Her investigation takes her to Scotland on a zeppelin and results in her learning a great deal more about her husband’s history. Happily, from the second chapter to the finish this story was a pleasure – with perhaps only a slight complaint for the cheesy Cinderella-like (or Bennett-like?) family that Miss Tarabotti comes from.

I really enjoy the relationship between Tarabotti and husband, and the sexuality of Miss Tarabotti’s character. Victorian era or no, Tarabotti expresses no guilt about her sexual appetite, but also the author doesn’t provide too much romance-novel detail in the way sex is portrayed It’s rather a nice change to hear more about the male attributes of characters than the female ones.

I noticed many complaints from Amazon readers about the cliffhanger ending – but I didn’t mind and look forward to reading the next book in the series.