Ender's Game Review

Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card

1985

 

Yeah, so I jumped on this bandwagon pretttttty late.

So I'm flipping through Kirkus...or Library Journal...one of those, and there's this advert for Ender's Game "A NEW MOTION PICTURE COMING NOVEMBER 2013" and I'm like "DAMMIT, I still haven't gotten around to reading it." So I promptly grabbed the library's copy because once the movie gets really hyped up (they've already re-released the books with movie-covers, ugh)  library copies are going to be scarcer and scarce.

Holy crap.

Why did I not read this sooner? Specifically, when I was in high school. Not that I didn't love it, because I absolutely did, but because this is JUST the sort of thing I would have DEVOURED as a teenager and if I could go back in time and give fifteen-year-old me one piece of advice it would be to go and read Ender's Game already.

So, for those who are like me and have somehow managed to bop through life ignorant of the 11-book saga that's been around longer than me, Andrew "Ender" Wiggin is a six-year-old genius who is whisked up to a Battle School in the sky where they train other child-geniuses, though none as genius as Ender, in the ways of strategy and tactics and less-than-friendly competition, via a series of increasingly difficult "games". All this is in an effort to train the next crop of brilliant commanders in hopes of finding one brilliant enough to defeat a dangerous alien race referred to only as "buggers", who nearly wiped out the human race and was only very narrowly defeated. Between this and Heinlein's Starship Troopers, you'd think giant bug aliens had a vendetta against us for some reason.

 I'm not sure if Ender's Game was considered a YA novel when it first came out...I know the YA genre wasn't quite the same as it was in the 80s as it is now, though I think that's when when the genre started to pick up...If anyone who has extensively studied the history of YA cares to comment, please do. Regardless, Card manages to achieve that balance of accessibility to young people with mature writing. Not that I'm bashing all teen novels that have come out recently, but you can definitely tell there's a stylistic gap between books written for teens and books written for adults. With Ender's Game, the tone and the language come off as more adult, while not necessarily being written at exclusively an adult level.

Plot-wise, the book is well-formed. And while it initially seems like your typical "us vs them", by the end, Card really elevated the story beyond the black and white, and introduced a vast gray area that adds greater depth to the idea of warfare. I suppose the only thing is that all the kids seem to talk like adults (or at least much older kids), but I suppose we can give a pass for that, seeing as they're supposed to be geniuses.

Admittedly, there are some things that didn't sit quite so well with me, such as this passing comment on women:

"A few girls. They don't often pass the tests to get in. Too many centuries of evolution are working against them." 

What the hell is that supposed mean? I'd say it's more like too many centuries of discrimination and social repression (Though it looks like they might be changing that in the film?).  But at least Petra and Valentine are pretty awesome characters.

Then there's Card's anti-gay thing, which doesn't reflect on the book so much as my opinion of Card  because as much as I want to respect him as a writer, it's really hard for me to respect bigots (and as a contemporary writer, you can't really use the "product of his times" defense). The important thing, I suppose, is that it doesn't really come out in the book (at least not to me, anyone think otherwise?).

 Overall, a really great read. I'll probably pick up the rest of the series at some point, but for now:
4.5/5 Fancies.

Read-a-Likes: Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein

Summer of the Mariposas Review

Summer of the Mariposas - Guadalupe Garcia McCall

2012

 

So I'm taking a Young Adult services class in the fall and figured I might as well start reading some YA books. I know I've previously mentioned my disdain for the genre in general, but I might possibly want to be a YA librarian, which means I'll have to read YA books, so now's the time to decide whether I can stomach it on a regular basis.

Well, mixed things about this book. Odilia is the eldest of the five Garza sisters who live near the Mexican border in Texas. When they discover a corpse in their swimming hole, they decide the logical thing to do is smuggle it into Mexico and return it to the family. Things take a fantastical turn as they encounter a good mix of Mexican folklore in witches, warlocks, el chupacabras, and demon-vampire owls, an Aztec goddess, and La Llorona.

First off, in the Land of Teenage Angst and Heterosexual Love-Triangles, it's nice and refreshing to find a book about five sisters and their interdependence on each other.The focus is very much on female relationships, between the sisters, between them and their grandmother, and between them and their mother. They are also guided by La Llorona and the Aztec goddess Tonantzin, both of which are shown (at least in the book) as maternal figures. So points for that.

Unfortunately, I wasn't terribly impressed. The idea felt a little forced, in that it's hard to believe that 5 teen and preteen girls find a corpse and their immediate thought is "Let's not only touch it, but carry it all the way into Mexico!" I'm pretty sure most people, particularly young people, see a corpse in the pool they've been swimming in, and their first thought is "I need to go take a 5-hour shower." Admittedly, Odilia, the oldest at 15-is, who's point of view it's told from, has her reservations and only agrees to the quest after La Llorona appears to her and explains that this is one of those divine test type things and she'd damn well better go (perhaps not in those words exactly). So, it's billed as a modern Mexican re-telling of the Odyssey, which is a bit of false advertising because it really isn't. At all. There's two fairly blatant references to the Odyssey (a possessive witch named Cecilia, and an androgynous, blind prophet named Teresita), and that's about it. I mean sure, it's a quest, but it's hardly a re-telling.

There was also a  lack of subtlety. They meet this prophet and she's all "These things will happen. Here is what to do about it." And then those exact things happen. And when a whole bunch of other mystical hoo-ha happens, we're given the explicit meaning behind everything. And sisters have this tendency to continually forget that they were told EXACTLY what was going to happen, and then act all surprised when it happened. Odilia appears to have some modicum of logic as she sort of figures things out first, but then her sister completely disregard any warnings she has. And maybe if that happened once, okay, they're all under 14, we can give them a break. But it continually happens. I mean, yeah, they're kids, but I really think that maybe after they've been violently attacked twice by some mythological creature, they might start to err on the side of caution--particularly if they were told about it in the first place.

Plot issues side, McCall does have some excellent, poetic passages. However, it occurs sporadically here while the brunt of the novel is unremarkable description and awkward teenage dialogue like

"'Oh boy, it's getting deep out there!' Velia said. 'What makes you think Mama knows anything about Tonantzin coming to save us? Because, I'll be honest, I didn't know what the heck was going on when the goddess showed up.'
'Whatever,' Juanita retorted..."

It's sort of hard for me to judge YA books because I'm not great at trying to frame it through my teenage-self (actually, I stopped reading YA while I was still a teenager, so I guess, pre-teen self?). I'm sure there are some teens who'll be welcome to the books expository nature. Plus, it's a quick enough read and it's a great introduction to Mexican/Aztec folklore for those who familiar with it. There is a glossary in the back of the Spanish words used throughout. And as I mentioned before, it's certainly a better alternative than the majority of the cookie-cutter paranormal/dystopian romances out there. 

3/5 Fancies.

 

Laika Review

Laika - Nick Abadzis

2007

 

You ever get that feeling sometimes, where you really just need to cry, but for some reason you can't quite squeeze those tears out? Like, it's just been a real crappy week and you just need something to trigger that cathartic release? WELL, have I got the book for YOU!

So, history lesson! In 1957 the Soviet Union shoots a dog into orbit, thus becoming the first country to launch a living creature into orbit, right after being the first country to launch a non-living thing (Sputnik I) into orbit. Which is just one of the examples of the massive posturing fest that was the Cold War. Anyway, the dog, Laika as she's known in the US, and Kudryavka (Little Curly), as she's known in Russia, died about six-hours in to the launch, though that information wasn't released until around 2002. Sorry if that's a spoiler, but c'mon guys, this is history. I mean, even if you didn't already know the story,  the fact that it's a book about a dog should sort of be a tip off. Because if the dog's name is in the title of a book, it most likely won't be around at the end of the book.

Anyway, Laika is part history, part speculation on the kind of life Laika may have had leading up to her final odyssey. She's caught between the kindness and the cruelty of humans, and despite the abuse and neglect she receives, she never seems to lose her faith and her trust in us, which makes for a truly heart-rending ending.The story is meant to question the ethical quandary of the mission. On the one hand, at that stage in experimentation they really couldn't use people because people tend to rank higher than animals in our collective sense of morality (though, that depends on who you ask). On the other hand, one of the scientists responsible for the project did say,

"We did not learn enough from the mission to justify the death of the dog." 

Have I mentioned this is a graphic novel? Because makes it about 10x sadder. It is a good choice of medium, as Abadzis is able to put a human, and canine, face on the subject matter, and Laika's death scene is handled with artistic care and sensitivity. Also, according to the Author's Note, the moon phases on specific dates are accurate to the day. Which is some pretty detail-oriented work there.

According to Amazon, this book is intended for ages 10 and up. I would say based on language and subject matter, it's probably more suited towards the older end of the middle-grade group. It's definitely a denser graphic novel, with a lot of text. As I mentioned, it does get pretty depressing, but then again, little kids are all sociopaths anyway. I don't know how else I could've watched The Land Before Time over and over without batting an eye back when I was a wee-one. 

Basically, it's very well done, but also sad, sad, sad, and sad. So, if you're not one for weeping uncontrollably, or if you're a vehement dog lover, you might want to stay away, though I suggest you steel yourself and pick it up anyway, because it's definitely a good read.

4/5 Fancies

The Best of Youth Review

The Best of Youth - Michael Dahlie

2013

 

The fancy goats alone should sell you on this book.

Henry Lang has the best worst (worst best?) luck in the world. His parents die, which is bad, but they leave him with $15 million, which is good. Actually, the $15 million is the most good that happens, but then it sort of covers all the other bad luck of his (massive goat-icide, antique gun-trafficking, to name a couple). Anyway, Henry is a twenty-something-year-old wanna-be writer living in Brooklyn, but thanks to his not-so-small fortune, he doesn't have to have a day job like the rest of us. So, he dabbles in expensive goat-care, invests in an upstart literary magazine, and writes short stories about old people, while trying to get over his crush on his fourth cousin (because really, does that even count as related?). When a literary agent catches a whiff of him, he offers him an opportunity to ghostwrite a young adult book for a celebrity. As seems to be the theme with Henry's life: things do not go well, but nothing is unresolvable.

The overall tone of this book was very low-key and uncomplicated (although things do get rather complicated) and although it does touch on some heavier subjects, was overall a delight. It was humorous, not like HAW HAW HAW *kneeslap* funny, but more like *chortle snort* funny. I would say it's a good pick for readers and aspiring writings (particularly those in their twenties) looking for something quick and light and also very well written, though I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to non-readers as it is dense in that there's a lot more description than dialogue. Some parts do tend to drag a little, though it's a fairly short book and those parts don't drag on too long.

Though as a side note, I highly doubt a library would get a couple of ex-cons on community service to catalog a collection of old, rare books, when there are oh so many trained library science students desperate for unpaid internships...(guess who gets to spend this summer cataloging DVDs...)

A good, quick, funny read. 

3.5/5 Fancies. 

City of Dark Magic Review

City of Dark Magic -- Magnus Flyte

2012

Okay, so I am about 7ish books behind right now which is less than ideal because I've already had to return a few of the books I haven't reviewed yet, so forgive me if I'm a little more vague. My classes finally ended this past weekend, and as I'm sure many of you can relate, the last month of classes is always a massive, panicked scramble. Anywho, let's get caught up, shall we?

I wasn't really sure for a while if I wanted to read this book or not because on the one hand, the whole bit about Prague, and Beethoven, and seeeeecrets and mysteriessssss was seemed up my alley, but the other bits about a sexy prince and a sassy dwarf and a devious U.S. Senator felt a bit hokey. But Meg Howrey was one of the co-authors and since I did rather enjoy one of her other books, I figure I ought to give it a shot.

So, first off, Magnus Flyte is actually Meg Howrey and Christina Lynch. And I get the feeling this isn't a great big secret because I found out about this book on Howrey's website. But anyway, it seems like they're trying to amp up the mysteri-ocity with the whole, "Magnus Flyte can be quite elusive and shuns the public eye" thing, except that only really works if you're Lemony Snicket and your main demographic is twelve-year-olds (my childhood ended the day I found out Lemony Snicket isn't real).

But enough about that. Sarah Weston is a musicologist with an oddly acute sense of smell. She is summoned to Prague to replace her professor/mentor after he "falls" out of a window helping the royal family organize their collection of rare sheet music manuscripts, some by Beethoven himself, as they turn the Royal Palace into a museum for the masses.So, she goes to Prague and mysterious things abound...such as bloody corpses appearing over wells and missing crucifixes and other some such that seem to revolve around a drug that causes you to hallucinate history (essentially) and the question of how this, Beethoven, Weston's professor, and some ex-CIA-turned-senator are all related.

So, as I mentioned above, this book had somethings working for it, but also many things working against it. It definitely moved quick, though almost too quick in some parts (see: the end). While it was enjoyable during the reading, it felt more like an action movie that's entertaining to watch, but not terribly cohesive and ultimately unmemorable. Of course, that could have been inferred  by the fact that the front-cover blurb is from Conan O'Brien. I mean, nothing against Conan, he's written some of my favorite Simpsons episodes, but when you're using him to sell a book, I feel like you're not targeting the literary market. My other issue, which isn't a huge deal, but it's billed as a dark and fantastical story, but really it's more reminiscent of a Cold War thriller with alchemical elements and a good dose of Beethoven references. And then the main plot sort of resolved itself and things kept...happening...and I wasn't quite sure why until some new, seemingly random plot point cropped up with not enough time to resolve it which makes me think this is going to be the first in a series. And while the ending wasn't tacked on, and made sense within the frame of the novel (kinda), it felt very rushed.

But, like I said, there were things I liked. As a massive Beethoven fan, it was nice reading a book full of Beethoven references. Sarah herself never seemed all that fleshed out, I mean her sense of smell was a character trait, but liked that she was a sexually independent female character and was a little annoyed by the slut-shaming I saw in a few other reviews. Being a dedicated academic and enjoying casual sex are NOT mutually exclusive, as some people seem to think. So it had that going for it.

Ultimately, it was one of those gripping books that draws you in for the duration, but leaves you wanting something more substantial afterwards.

2.5/5 Fancies

A Tale for the Time Being Review

A Tale for the Time Being - Ruth Ozeki

2013

I wish I could just say GO READ THIS BOOK RIGHT NOW, but that's not terribly substantive and I suppose I owe you more than that.

 On the cost of a small island somewhere in Western Canada a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, inside a Hello Kitty lunch box washes up.It turns out to be the diary of a Japanese teenager named Nao. Nao has a lot to be depressed about--she's viciously bullied by her classmates, she lives in a small two-room apartment in the seedy part of Tokyo, and her father keeps trying to kill himself. But she finds some solace in her great-grandmother, Jiko, who is a 104(ish) year-old anarchist, feminist, Zen Buddhist nun. The story is told in alternating chapters following Nao and Ruth, the woman who finds the washed-up diary as she tries to find out more about Nao, whether she is real, and where she is now.

As you might've suspected, the Ruth of the book is actually Ruth, the author. Ozeki basically wrote herself and her husband (and perhaps some acquaintances?) into the book. Which I would usually find kind of lazy and self-indulgent like, "Really? You couldn't think of any other character?" BUT, I read an interview with Ozeki and where she mentions that she "auditioned" a number of characters, writing complete drafts with them, before realizing that the character that worked best was herself. So...I guess I'll give her a pass. Especially because the character-Ruth is well done and she doesn't try to hide it by giving her and her husband different names.

Anyway, I was initially way more interested in the Nao parts than the Ruth parts and so at first I was just rushing through Ruth to get back to Nao and I kept wondering why we even needed the Ruth bits in the first place. But as the story progressed, the Ruth parts became more interesting and more integral to Nao's story.

As I said though, I loved this book. Despite any initial complaints, the book really drew me in. Ozeki creates this great contrast between the cruelty and beauty of the world. Nao's story is at the same time charming and heartbreaking. There were times in this book where I was close to tears, which is a big deal because I'm not a cryer The settings are vivid and real--from Tokyo's Akihabara Electric Town to Jiko's mountain, Buddhist retreat, to Ruth's isolated, island home. It explores the meaning of the present by intersecting the past, present, and future, and pulls everything together in an elegant way with a definite, but also slightly ambiguous, ending.

I'd say more but a) It's been a while since I finished the book (school has this nasty habit of getting in the way) and b) I don't want to say too much because it really is a book you should discover on your own. Which brings me to my next point: READ IT. 

I was really on the fence on whether I should give this book a full 5/5, because on the one hand I absolutely loved it, but on the other hand there were a few elements that didn't quite fit as well as the rest...but I figured that since this was the first book I even considered giving a 5 to, I should trust my gut and there we have it, the first 5/5 Fancies.

Read a-likes: After the Quake by Haruki Murakami

The Middlesteins Review

The Middlesteins - Jami Attenberg

2012

 

So, you know how you never actually trust those blubs on the back (and front, and side flap, and first five pages) of a book? Because they're all probably very expensive lies? I mean, does anyone actually, seriously consider them when you pick up a book ? Right, so I always kinda sorta scan over them just because they're there and when you know how to read, it's hard to not-read something that's there (I highly recommend GRRM's blurb on The Magicians, though, because you can tell how obviously bitter he is about that Hugo award in 2001 (jk, ilu George, plz don't ever hate me)). But I have to say, if you believe just one book-blurb in your entire life, believe Jonathan Franzen's blurb on The Middlesteins. It's right there, smack-dab on the cover and basically sums up exactly how I feel about this book.

So. Edie Middlestein is morbidly obese. Very literally. She is obese to a morbid extent. She has diabetes, has already had two surgeries in her legs, her doctor is hinting she may need a bypass, and she's still hitting up MickyD's, Burger King, and a Chinese restaurant all in one afternoon. At sixty-soemthing-ish, she quite frankly, doesn't seem to care. But when her husband of over thirty years leaver her, her children (and children-in-law) rush in to fill the vacuum of caring for her. Or at least, the motions of care. Despite their awkwardness and emotional distance, they all try to come together to help their mother. But the question remains whether you can change someone who doesn't want to change.

This is another one of those books that takes your from point-of-view to point-of-view so that you form a more rounded opinion of each character and are not shaped by the other characters' biases. For instance, when Edie's husband, Richard, first leaves her, naturally I assume he's some kind of terrible person. But then we get Richard's POV and we see that she was constantly criticizing and hounding him and that there hasn't been any love-loss between them for years.

The one thing I didn't like was that sometimes Attenberg jumps around too much without really settling you into it. There are chapters titled like "Edie, 241 pounds (or some other weight)" and that's our only frame of reference for the chapter at least until a page or two in, which made it hard to orient oneself in how old the characters were supposed to be at that time. She also had the tendency to trail off into extended flash-forwards, which sometimes worked, and sometimes didn't. On the one hand, it provided insight in to the characters' futures and how the events of the present (past) affected them in the long run. On the other hand, it sometimes meandered too far from the story going on at the moment and made it hard to jump back into the present and keep track of what was the present and what was the future.

I'm going to quote Franzen's blurb here because he basically said it exactly how I would have: "The Middlesteins had me from its very first pages, but it wasn't until its final pages that I fully appreciated the range of Attenberg's sympathy and the artistry of her storytelling."

This book really did grab me from the very first pages--initially, I wasn't sure if I was interested in checking it out,  but then I skimmed the first couple lines and I absolutely had to read more. And while the whole book was good throughout, it was really elevated by the ending.

4/5 big, fat Fancies.