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Tuesday, September 30, 2014

September Wrap-Up/October TBR

No reviews to link this time because I am going to review the first and last books together soon.
Here is how my reading went this month!

1. Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor: They didn't lie, her writing is absolutely fabulous and it is effortlessly imaginative, even if the actual story underneath the world isn't too original. I just fell into the beautiful world; truly remarkabale fantasy, but many elements of the real world are retained to make it releatible, even if it's just everyday life in Prague. Of course, it did really feel like a set-up to a larger story and it is structured a bit strangely (I liked the first half better than the second, personally). The romance wasn't overbearing and there are explanations for it. I'm not sure it's my favorite because it didn't have that rare personal connection for me, but it is head and shoulders above most YA fantasy and a great way to spend my time. 4.5/5 stars.

2. The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury: Fahrenheit 451 is one of my favorite novels of all time, and I recently realized I hadn't read anything else from Bradbury's impressive bibliography and made an agreement with myself to read as much as I can eventually. Like much of Bradbury, this is a collection of loosely collected short stories. I didn't fall into it as easily as Fahrenheit, but it was compelling and became more so as it went on. It's somber, bizarre, amusing...it's all about the human experience (more social than scientific, for example), and I should've seen the Cold War twist coming. 4.5/5 stars. (I really hate ratings.)

3. War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells: I've been trying to read this on my Kindle for a while and I finally got going and finished it (the public domain Kindle format is very frustrating). It's definitely influencial and it does have a foundation in real science (something you don't see with SF nowadays), but I think it's my least favorite Wells novel. It doesn't have many other quandaries in it to think about (in contrast to the future split of humanity in The Time Machine and the lack of adhering to morals when invisible in The Invisible Man), and I just felt distanced from it. Of course it is pretty creepy, but isn't an all-out action blockbuster (which I don't mind). I just feel like it doesn't offer much beyond its concept, and since its concept has been so common in more recent storytelling, the bare bones is kind of underwhelming. Also, those aliens were really focused on the small part of the globe that is Great Britain. 3/5

4. Days of Blood and Starlight by Laini Taylor: I was kind of on a Bradbury hangover during the first half of this book and I was also splitting my time between reading the War of the Worlds ebook, so it didn't grab me as much as the first book and I wasn't paying attention as much as I should have. However, I really enjoyed it after that, and I just love how different and immersive and beautiful this is. I figured I would like the war book more than the romance one, and I think it has a better structure as well. They're both very different, but they're both gems. More thoughts later. 4.5/5 stars.
It felt like I didn't read as much as I wanted this month, but I read some great books and it worked out in the end. Here's what I'll probably be reading next:
  • I am currently reading Brave New World by Aldous Huxley for school and it's fabulous.
  • On my Kindle (where I got it once for free) I'm about 25% of the way through Obsidian by Jennifer L. Armentrout. This isn't really the book I like to read and the writing feels a little bland to me, but I'm mostly intrigued by (and going to review it for this purpose) the fact that it's pretty much an intentional parody/attempt-to-be-better-than Twilight. It's actually pretty successful so far...every time I think it's gone to far, the main character talks about how he's a jerk and she wants to be better than him.
  • The Illustrated Man and The Golden Apples of the Sun by Ray Bradbury: of course
  • I still have The Da Vinci Code.
  • And on my Kindle (because they were cheap) I have Cinder, Throne of Glass, The Warrior Heir, and The Darkest Minds.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Musings: Endings and To Kill a Mockingbird

 (Obviously there will be spoilers for To Kill a Mockingbird.)
I've always been that strange person who will love almost every ending. I think I just like the idea of an irrevocable closure. Debating over whether something fictional should have ended up that was simply does not interest me. I'd rather look at what's given instead of speculating.

As such, I haven't been more frustrated by the ending of a book in recent memory as I have been with To Kill a Mockingbird. This thoroughly surprised me. Not only is it a classic, but seemingly one that is easily beloved by a younger audience. And don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed parts of it, especially the courtroom scenes. Atticus is great. There are important points made about racism. But I was waiting for the punch-in-the-gut feeling that this was really good, that it was life-changing, and I never really got it. I thought I might when Tom was killed, when it seemed like Atticus was going to be hunted down...but then the ending just killed it.

Mostly what bugs me is this. Jem possibly killed someone. Sure, probably in self-defense, but he killed someone. Maybe. We never know. Does it matter? The book seems to imply that it doesn't. Atticus goes along with the Sheriff's story about Ewell falling on his own knife, even though it's unlikely. Jem may have gotten taller and moodier, but he's still a child and is protected by that, not even aloud to come to terms with what happened himself. He and Scout can forever be children, wise enough to understand the world around them already.

Aside from the lack of closure as to what happened, I just find this extremely ill-conceived. Jem probably is confused and guilty and scared, whatever the outcome may have been, but we are spared ever seeing any of this. Who said this was a coming-of-age story? Jem and Scout don't grow except physically. They aren't awakened to the harsh realities of the adult world. Sure, they witness some horrible things, but seem perfectly capable of handling it immediately or after a brief talk with their equally wise father. Never do they contemplate their role in society as white children or change their worldview; they seem to know who is good and bad immediately in a world that lacks complexities. Never are their eyes opened to the harsh realities of rape and abuse; they just simply take it in without further comment, only function as the eyes through which the meat of the story (the courtroom scenes) are told. They are forever shielded and rather detached as narrators.

So yes, I don't agree with what this says about growing up and childhood. But I've got another gaping problem with the ending. We are never shown any investigation, any angry family members looking for revenge, any attempt by Atticus to defend his son legally. But maybe he doesn't have to. Jem isn't just a child, but a white child. We've just spent most of the book seeing the injustice blacks had to endure, and are we really going to end with a white boy escaping any sort of guilt? Or perhaps it was a full-grown white man, as it could have been Boo as well. But no, the Sheriff thinks it's best that no trouble is taken, and unanimous good guy Atticus Finch agrees.

Maybe, just maybe, if Jem had privately confessed his guilt and horror to Scout and how he feels even worse that he (or Boo) is not subject to the same law that punishes innocent men, and the two realize how awful the world really is, we would have some sort of reasonable ending. Instead, we never know, there are inconsistencies, and Scout and Jem are forever idyllic children.

(Of course another option would be that the plan to assassinate Atticus succeeded, something I actually thought was going to happen, and I know I'm cruel for suggesting it, but it really would have made more thematic sense and awakened our characters and driven the point home. Though it doesn't do much for the black and white morality, though.)

I know many people aren't going to agree with this and I'm sure I'm not articulating this correctly, but I've hesitated much too long in saying something definite about it. Whether or not there are some uncomfortable racial issues underneath the whole thing (I personally am not sure I fleshed that out fully), I at least felt a vast hole in place of growth and complexities to Jem's character--or Scout, for that matter--that prevented the book for really peeling back the idyllic childhood glaze and driving its point home.

(Also I just firmly believe growing up is about realizing how horrible the world is.)

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Everybody Sees the Ants by A.S. King: A Letter

Dear Everybody Sees the Ants,

I don't know how to begin this. Perhaps that is the reason I have stalled writing this review. It's just so hard to write reviews of things I really love. I mean, I'm not sure if you'll make my favorite books' list, but you are a diamond in the YA rough. You deserve to be more popular.

This is going to be one of my more personal writings. I love writing and reading about personal connections to media, but I always feel a tad egotistical for inviting others to read about myself. But oh well, you're just a book after all.

I can't say I've had a Nader McMillan in my life, but I have been bullied. I was picked on in choir class for God knows what, but it damaged my confidence and I'm just getting over hearing the sound of my own singing voice. And then I met my boyfriend, who was picked on for God knows what too, but it damaged his confidence, in this case about his physical appearance. I've been there. Many of us have.

I've never been suicidal, but Lucky isn't painted as suicidal either. He expresses a wry, sheltered point of view, something that isn't annoying and is compelling. He doesn't sound depressed, but he is. I love the nuanced portrayal of Lucky.  Because I've had troubles myself, during the summer, and during the time reading this, and during the time writing this. I'm a perfectionist and I get way too hard on myself. I also get too obsessive over making sure I appear strong enough and I feel guilty for dragging others down when I'm not. But I never contemplate suicide, for my own reasons.

I love my parents. I really do. They're not close to the friction between Lucky's parents, and I am grateful for that. But there are still disagreements and arguments and yelling between everyone in the household and sometimes I just want to get away. The adults in you are portrayed heartbreakingly flawed, and oh, I loved it.

You have some cruel plot twists, though. I say plot twists because they changed how readers saw the story, but they were probably more like character-twists because they were centered around the characters. The first one was just cruel but thematically resonant. The second one was just heartbreaking. And my jaw dropped on both.

I love how you aren't quite a love story. Lucky is fortunately self-aware about the nature of love and lust, and the relationships are complex. He knows that what he feels might just be movie-star love. He knows he's like a sibling to her, and it's that note he ends on. There's attraction and there's true caring, but nothing overpowers. Nothing is put into a box of "girlfriend" or "friend" or "sister."

I don't think I've ever read a book with magical realism before, but I enjoyed this. It isn't too strange, and it's just taking metaphors to a whole new level. I've always been interested in dreams and how they relate to our inner thoughts, and the ants! The ants were just plain amusing at times, whether they were forming a halo and singing, or throwing grenades, or spelling profanities. But that's not what they were about. They were about being the hardships that everyone must go through.

Everybody sees the ants.

To many happy rereadings,
Olivia

P.S. (from December 14, 2014): I realize I never actually wrote about specifically why I found this book so interesting and personal, and I still don't think I'm ready to share that. But to give you a general idea: this book put in me in the mind of someone who felt very real and very close to someone I know well, and so it was like learning a little bit more about him.