Halloween Musings and Recommendations

It’s strange, I associate Halloween with “do I really have to get a different costume every year for one party or dance?” instead of a particular feel and desire to watch or read something spooky. It isn’t like Christmas in the sense of an overall atmosphere. But I am going to come up with a spur of the moment recommendations list because I feel a sort of obligation. So here are some things that do remind me of Halloween.


TV: (sorry, don’t really have a good movies list)

• “Hush” from Buffy the Vampire Slayer - THE MUSIC. THE DESIGN. SO CREEPY. (And I mean it’s also funny and weaves together characterization points about how they communicate…and it’s not even my favorite Buffy.)
• "How the Ghosts Stole Christmas" from The X-Files - I know it sounds contradictory, but it’s a haunted house story and I first saw it around Halloween.
• Alternatively “Home” from The X-Files if you want to be really disturbed.
• And, well, probably “Blink” from Doctor Who if that wasn’t a given. Or maybe The Talons of Weng-Chiang if you can stomach the racism. Or The Seeds of Doom if you can stomach the frank violence. Really, anything from the Gothic era or some of the black and white era could work well.

Books; or, where I realize just how little scary stories I have read:

• Probably anything by Neil Gaiman, though I would have to say The Ocean at the End of the Lane (my favorite), Coraline, or The Graveyard Book
• The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, because I’m currently reading it and maybe it’s because of the time of year, but there is a creepy vibe to it.
• Frankenstein is also probably awesome but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. And Ray Bradbury wrote Halloween-sounding stories like Something Wicked This Way Comes, The Halloween Tree, and The October Country…none of which I have read quite yet but I’m sure they’re fabulous.
• And there’s always Stephen King. My parents like him…and I haven’t read any of his yet because I just don’t know where to start!

What stories remind you of Halloween?

P.S.: I'm really behind on blogging but my workload shout shorten up a bit soon...hopefully. My next post is kind of a big one.

In Which I Attempt Coherent Thoughts on Laini Taylor's Daughter of Smoke and Bone and Days of Blood and Starlight

During my Reading Renaissance at the beginning of sixth grade, aka what really got me into discussing and just loving books in a way I hadn't before, I read a lot of fantasy series (more or less). Some were middle grade and some were YA, although the YA was obscure, different from popular series nowadays, and I don't remember much about them. Some have stayed on my favorites list, some haven't.

Regardless, I am kind of nostalgic for fantasy series I can get lost in. But unfortunately, since my Second Reading Renaissance (aka This Year), most of the popular fantasy series in these age groups haven't interested me, which didn't help to fuel the nostalgic reason for rediscovering reading. There wasn't really any new middle grade, and after checking out the YA options I was constantly disappointed with how many were described as "fantasy-lite" with a heavy dose of romance. I mean, I don't need hardcore fantasy, but I'm personally interested in childlike wonder and fun characters and how they respond to the world. (Also, as I've said many times, I've never been into romance.)

What I was most interested in out of the options, though, was Laini Taylor's Daughter of Smoke and Bone series. It seemed really complex and unique, though I admit I was a bit disappointed when I did learn the first book was mostly about romance, but...I had hope. And while it may not be my favorite (though I highly doubt something like this will make my favorites list nowadays), it was worth it.

The first thing typically said about Laini Taylor is that her writing is gorgeous. This is absolutely true. It's magical and enchanting and so easy to get lost in, and then there would be some references to present-day events or colloquial talk that reminded me these books do take place in the present day most of the time. Reading it is like falling into a haze, and that's probably why I've been stalling so much writing this. It's really hard to compare to anything else. It's one of those things that sort of feels real, but also feels like it's a sweeping fairy tale.

This series doesn't just take place in modern-day, though, but modern-day Prague and Morocco, as well as some otherworldly realms. And Karou, our heroine, isn't your plain and ordinary heroine who needs a guy to make her feel special. She has blue hair and "tattoos" of eyes on her palms; she goes to an art school in Prague; she dated and lost her virginity to a guy she spends much of the beginning of the first book turning down; she has a family of half-human, half-animal chimerae who she can't tell anyone about; she goes on errands all over the world for teeth; she collects languages for presents.

Because you know what this trilogy does that other YA authors have been afraid to do? Tell a story about some people that doesn't fell the need to make the main character a "relatable everygirl" so the reader can fulfill the fantasies they apparently have through her. Not to mention that these characters don't feel like teenagers, but people who just happen to be 17 or 18. That's how you write a YA novel. Certainly that trope has its uses--most notably in the portal fantasies like Harry Potter and Narnia--but there also exist many books just about the stories of others. This is one of them. (It's also written in third person omniscient past tense.)

Another fantastic thing about these books is that Karou's relationship to her best friend is more prominent than the romance. Zuzana is absolutely delightful, and though there is an initial bump in their relationship when Karou begins to be involved in strange events, their love oozes through the pages. Best friend female relationships are something not seen too often in YA, especially when the main plot contains a romance, so this was refreshing. Zuzana and her boyfriend, Mik, provide a more human element to the story and general adorableness.

As for the romance, I really didn't feel like it took to much prominence in the storyline. Book 1 is, perhaps, primarily a romance, but there is a twist, and even before that I did not feel like it fell into the usual problematic tropes. Book 2, however, deals with the consequences of the characters's situations and has very little romance. It's a very different book as a consequence, although both do not have much melodrama or angst, and I'm really glad the "drama added to relationship because they need a storyline for the rest of the trilogy" (like Divergent, for example) was not a part of this.

Still, I liked both of them. With Daughter of Smoke and Bone I fell under the spell easily, but the second half of the book consists mostly of  a backstory and was not as engaging for me, even though I found the exploration of the demon and angel worlds interesting. With Days of Blood and Starlight, however, I had trouble getting into it (partially due to a Ray Bradbury hangover) but ultimately I was more engaged in the second half. There is one plot point I'm not completely sure was handled right, but I feel like that might be a case of me missing something.

I doubt this trilogy will become my favorite, but it's the best take on YA fantasy I've seen so far. And it's made of magic. No, it's not the easiest thing to get through, but if you're expecting all YA to be easy and quick, that isn't helping the genre.

Also, bonus points to Days of Blood and Starlight for Zuzana's boyfriend body positivity:

"It was true that being surrounded by bronze-hard pectorals and biceps bigger than her head cast Mik's physique in a new light, but really, who needed biceps bigger than her head?"

The Maze Runner: Girls, Boys, and YA

The debate of gender and YA lit isn't anything new. Here is an essay I read about it recently, for example,and I don't even think that one mentions John Green. However, it's really hard for me to take a firm stance on either side of this debate, because it is true that, for the most part, I don't get much out of YA, aside from the fun of reviewing it. I've personally never been into reading romance and "girly" things, and I do love bittersweet endings, even though I certainly don't think that all YA is happy endings and rainbows. But yeah, read what you want. You've got lots of bloggers and vloggers to discuss/fangirl with, just don't discredit those of us who prefer other things as snobs.

Disclaimer aside. Now, The Maze Runner.

I believe I first started seeing The Maze Runner on advertisements on Facebook around 2010 (aka at the height of Hunger Games fervor), saying you should read it if you liked The Hunger Games. Naturally, I avoided it for a while until I sort of ran out of things and picked it up, in the fall of 2011. This was the time where I was just reading to read, so I didn't get much out of it. I remembering finding the writing bland and, in some places, I really wanted to rearrange the sentences. I enjoyed the second one more when I read it in a few months, but I think I was more in the mood for it then. All of which is to stay, I'm not the one to critique it because I barely remember the plot. I also haven't seen the movie. If you want an actual feminist reading, try this or this.

What sparked this post is a line from the movie review in Entertainment Weekly: "Don't let that YA tag put you off, though. There isn't a dying heroine or hunky vampire to be found anywhere in this better-than-average adaptation of the James Dashner bestseller."

Now, I am not a fan of dying heroines and hunky vampires, and this pissed me off. [Though after some squinting, I realized that the dying heroine is just a reference to The Fault in Our Stars, which isn't even a trend. Wimpy heroines, on the other hand...]

"But I can't see!"

Yes, The Maze Runner was published in 2009, which in publishing terms means that it had nothing to do with The Hunger Games (2008, different publisher) and the ensuing dystopian craze (and despite my misgivings, I don't think it was rushed out without a copyedit...it was just a poor one). It was just there at the right time, rather than an actual response to it. However, it was marketed as a response to it, despite not having much in common. Namely, one that is more boy-friendly.

So, the YA with "serious" themes and no love story and excessive sentimentality (not that there aren't sad parts) is worthy of consideration, while the rest are just for teen girl fantasies. [I want to be clear that I'm not personally attacking the reviewer, but this is just something we see far, far too often when YA is discussed. I'm probably also to blame here.]

Because whatever you think of the quality of YA, it at least often tells the stories of young women (and often written by women). They might be wimpy and terrible role models and lack spark of life, but they're girls. And, as is well documented, girls will read books featuring any protagonist but boys will stay away from books about girls. But it's not just about that...The Maze Runner features just one girl (which admittedly is a main part of the plot) who, if I remember correctly, spends most of the book unconscious and, like Thomas, is gifted with abilities to magically help solve the story. There is an additional (manipulative) female character in the second book, and apparently a third in the last, which I never read. All three are potential love interests. Meanwhile, the boys insult each other with made-up curse words. Yeah, it's also not my kind of book.

[And I say this as someone who rarely engages in a feminist critique as the primary critique of a work, disagree with several of them, and have I mentioned recently how much I love Lord of the Rings?]

This of course would be more of a problem if The Maze Runner was more popular than it actually is. I'm really not specifically targeting Maze, but rather the culture it exists in, as sparked by that movie review. I want to believe that there is good YA, and I think there is, but they're also the ones not explicitly written to be YA as we currently know the term. They're just books which feature adolescents. But when you have media specifically creating the image of "YA for boys," I have a problem. Because I just want to read (and write) books that don't have to conform to expectations of a particular genre/age group, and they're getting harder and harder to find which discourages me, and a lot of that is down to stigma and bad marketing decisions.

Does this make sense? I don't know. I still believe James Dashner needs a better copyediter, though.

EDIT: This is all sorts of offensive, because it literally says that the movie has more mass appeal because it's about boys. (Naturally, that's probably true, but it doesn't have to be. A lot of my problem has to do with the way things are marketed, rather than what they actually contain or even our culture.)

Ramblings: The hypocricy of embracing literature for young people

This is something that has been bothering me lately, related to a larger issue of the age gaps and marketing in children's publishing. I should really make a big post about it, or perhaps a series. Regardless, I'm sure this won't be the last time I talk about it.

Here's what I don't understand. You have many adults (rightly, I expect) arguing that they deserve to read YA and it's relevant and important to them, but they get a book written for a slightly younger audience and all of a sudden it's too young and can't be considered just as good. Or when there's a middle grade book they like, they'll go around calling it YA because that sounds more sophisticated. (See: The Giver, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson.)

Yes it's not written for you, it's not going to have small print and fancy words and really complex sentences, but that doesn't make it any less valuable. It doesn't mean it can't mean something to you once you get past these trivial details.

You can defend your YA, but I'll always defend the books that got me reading and that continue to captivate,me unlike anything else, and I don't want that to be forgotten in the debate. And I don't care if you call something like Harry Potter YA, I'm going to stick to what the book was marketed for because we should just embrace them for what they are. Yes, the landscape of children's publishing has changed, but it may have lost something along the way.

(On the plus side though, our generation will not be looked down upon when we are adults rereading Harry Potter, because everyone else will share the same nostalgia in some way.)

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.

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.)

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.