a novel cure for the flu

I'd been ill for about a week before I was actually able to remember that I wanted to look up "flu" in The Novel Cure, which I received for my birthday (see post) when I was actually in the position to find the book. Even though I'd had the book since the end of September, I hadn't actually gone to it looking for a novel cure to anything before now.

In The Novel Cure, Elderkin and Berthoud suggest Agatha Christie, specifically Poirot, as a cure for the flu. They recommend The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. Unfortunately I didn't have any Christie in the house and the public library didn't have any ebook or e-audio versions available to check out. I refuse to pay for ebooks so I was out of luck. Following Elderkin and Berthoud's logic, I decided that what I needed was an engrossing mystery.

source: my mom
(she picked it up at the take-a-book-leave-a-book shelf at a hotel)

Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch (published as Midnight Riot in the US)
series: Peter Grant (1)

A paranormal police procedural, Rivers of London takes place in a modern day London, in which the Metropolitan Police Service has a special, secret branch responsible for dealing with "the magic" when it poses a threat to the Queen's peace.  Probationary Constable Peter Grant (protagonist and first-person narrator) learns of the secret branch when he's assigned to assist Detective Chief Inspector Thomas Nightingale with a case.  That doesn't happen, though, until after Grant has interviewed an eyewitness to a murder who just happens to be a ghost. 

The primary storyline (serial murder) was a bit overcomplicated¹ for my flu-addled brain, but I enjoyed Rivers of London nonetheless.  The secondary (titular) storyline was quite interesting and easy to follow.  I also appreciated the overarching story of the protagonist as he first discovers the world of magic and then becomes an apprentice wizard.

Aaronovitch does a great job of world-building.  There's the recognizable and well-described London from which he lifts the veil.  He gives readers just enough paranormal activity to indicate the extent to which magic permeates his world, but not enough to overwhelm them and/or the story.  British magic has an interesting backstory (Isaac Newton "codif[ied] its basic principles," 81) as I'm sure does Nightingale, to whom Grant becomes apprenticed.   Home base for the secret branch (The Folly) is also populated by an inexplicable character named Molly, who is indispensable to the functioning of the branch.

Peter Grant is an everyman character (mixed race, distractible, and decidedly average with the exception of an aptitude for magic).  He also has two love interests:  another probationary constable (who I assume will be a recurring character in the series as it goes forward) and a magical person he encounters in the course of his work on the titular storyline.

I read Rivers of London ravenously and I'm quite eager to read more of Peter Grant's adventures. There are three more books (so far) in the series, but it seems like only the second installment (Moon Over Soho)² has been published in the US so far.³

A note on the cover art. I much prefer the art on Rivers of London (and the other British editions) to the art on Midnight Riot (and the other American editions). I felt that way even before scanning other reviews and coming across one that mentioned a concern about white-washing with regard to the American editions.⁴ The art of the British covers focuses on the city, while the art of the American cover focuses on the character (and with that character focus, obscuring the race is problematic). Additionally, the British editions are quirky, with little details (about the story and about London) hidden in the artwork. I love that.

1. It's described thusly (from the perspective of PC Grant) on the Rivers of London page of the author's website: "there’s something festering at the heart of the city I love, a malicious vengeful spirit that takes ordinary Londoners and twists them into grotesque mannequins to act out its drama of violence and despair. The spirit of riot and rebellion has awakened in the city, and it’s falling to me to bring order out of chaos – or die trying" (The Folly/Books/Rivers of London).
2. Thankfully they haven't changed the title of this one for the American audience.
3. Though a quick search of the public library catalog informs me that I can also get #3, Whispers Under Ground, from the library even though my branch doesn't have a copy.
4. Neth Space shows two different versions of both American editions' covers and discusses this issue, see Neth Space: Another White-washed Cover?.  I don't particularly either version of either of the American covers.  The British cover art is much more appealing to me on many different levels.

a few romance novels

Recently Russell commented on the fact that I hadn't read any romance novels lately. While his observation was in fact correct,¹ I was a bit taken aback because I didn't think that Russell payed all that much attention to what I read on a daily basis. Then it occurred to me that it is actually quite obvious (to him) when I have a romance in progress because I can't help but read aloud the most over-the-top descriptions for Russell's amusement if he happens to be somewhere in the general vicinity.

In any case his comment spurred this post (and will likely result in more romance reviews in the nearish future since I requested a few books from NetGalley's romance offerings).

Love Unscripted by Tina Reber
series: Love (1)

female lead: Small-town Rhode Island bar owner
male lead: Hollywood A-lister
filling out the (love) triangle: Bodyguard

I actually read Love Unscripted last year and I can safely say that it is what put me off romance novels in the near past. The novel was simply far too long (officially 592 pages). It could have easily been broken in two, there was even a natural place to do so (and seeing that Love Unscripted is actually the first in a series, which continues the story of this same couple, obviously the author didn't take issue with breaking up the story in principle). The protagonist's secondary love interest never felt like a real option (even early on it was obvious to me as a reader that he wasn't good for her), so her wishy-washiness becomes a bit unbearable in the second half of the book. After a certain point even her passionate, hot-and-cold relationship with the primary love interest ceased to amuse me. I remember thinking "will this book ever end?" I probably should have given up on Love Unscripted, but I am a glutton for punishment.

Lady Gone Bad by Sabine Starr

setting: 1880s Texas
male lead: Deputy US Marshall
female lead: [see title]

Lady Gone Bad was the Nook "Free Fridays" offering for February 22nd. I often forget to check the weekly freebie, but conveniently enough the first Friday after Russell's observation this wild west romance was on offer. Lady Gone Bad is a pretty standard historical romance. It's not heavy on historical detail (or accuracy) and some plot points are never properly explained, but both leads are sympathetic (and their relationship is appropriately passionate).  Cringe-worthy cover, though.

Grave Consequences by Lisa Bergren
series: Grand Tour Series (2)

setting: Europe, circa 1913
leading lady: A Cinderella-like heiress not comfortable with her new elevated position in society
bachelor #1: Dashing French nobleman
bachelor #2: Tour guide

Grave Consequences continues the story begun in Glamorous Illusions (which I haven't read) of a young woman on a tour of Europe with her newly discovered half-siblings. It is a combination of romantic suspense (the opens with the group fleeing from a kidnapping attempt) and historical inspirational romance. The novel isn't particularly preachy, but the two main characters have enough examinations of consciousness to keep the reader from forgetting that the novel is Christian fiction. I found the suspense a bit melodramatic and I pinpointed the hidden bad guy early on, but I did appreciate how strove to incorporate the educational aspect of the grand tour into her narrative and the fact that the love triangle was well-balanced.  I imagine that my sister would like this series.  I think I'll recommend it to her.

1. Even though I don't often post about them on the blog (usually they're "nothing to write home about" as they say, I do read romance novels somewhat regularly.

disclosure: Via NetGalley I received a review copies of Grave Consequences and Love Unscripted from David C. Cook and Atria Book respectively.

a couple of new YA books from favorite non-YA authors

Russell and I have good about reining in our tendency toward excessive book acquisition since we moved (very good with the exception of the Borders-liquidation splurging).  In recent months I have purchased two books for myself, intentional purchases from from bricks-and-mortar book stores.  Both of these books were on my to-buy list because I love their authors' other work and knew that I'd want these new releases for my library. After reading both of them, I know that I made the right decision to skip the library and go straight to the bookstore.

I bought The Last Dragon Slayer by Jasper Fforde (released in October) for myself in December and wrapped it up as a Christmas present. I bought Etiquette and Espionage by Gail Carriger (released on February 5th) on Presidents' Day weekend. These two novels have quite a lot in common. Both are written by authors who are famous for zany, alternate history-type fantasy novels. Both are their respective authors' first foray into YA fiction (though I wouldn't hesitate to recommend Carriger and Fforde's other novels to teens). Both are first in a planned series. And, both have really fantastic (in my opinion, at least) cover art.

Etiquette and Espionage by Gail Carriger
series: Finishing School (1)

Etiquette and Espionage is set in the same world as Carriger's Parasol Protectorate series (see post), though at a slightly earlier time (alternate 1851). In it we meet some of the Parasol Protectorate series' secondary characters as children.

The novel opens with 14-year-old Sophronia Temminnick ensconced within a dumbwaiter, from which she hopes to eavesdrop.  When Sophronia's plans go disastrously awry, resulting in a ruined dress (hers) and a ruined hat (Mrs. Barnaclegoose's), Sophronia's mother unceremoniously packs her off to Mademoiselle Geraldine's Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality. That Mademoiselle Geraldine's is no ordinary finishing school becomes apparent before Sophronia arrives as the academy.  If the natterings of her fellow debut weren't enough to make Sophronia suspicious, their coach being beset by flywaymen (airborn highwaymen), demanding they hand over a prototype, sealed the deal.

I enjoyed Etiquette and Espionage immensely (a school that teaches espionage alongside etiquette and has both werewolf and vampire instructors is so very Gail Carriger) and look forward to buying Curtsies and Conspiracies, Finishing School installment the second, for my library in November or December.

The Last Dragon Slayer by Jasper Fforde
series: Chronicles of Kazam (1)

The Last Dragon Slayer is less obviously a series opener. I know that it is the first book in the Chronicles of Kazam series only because the publishers tell me so, but it makes sense since Fforde does love to write in series.

The Last Dragon Slayer takes place is a completely different world than any of Fforde's other series, but that world is appropriately eccentric and fully realized.  If you like Jasper Fforde, you'll like this new series, but it is a bit like Fforde lite. Acutally The Last Dragon Slayer would be a good introduction to Fforde as it is a more approachable than The Eyre Affair, The Big Over Easy, or Shades of Grey (which is probably Fforde's least accessible opener).

15 year-old Jennifer Strange is an orphan indentured to Kazam Mystical Arts Management. She's been running the company, which hires out magicians for miscellaneous odd jobs, since the mysterious disappearance of its director, Mr. Zambini.  Mystical arts management isn't the most promising of career fields given that magic is losing its potency, but Jennifer only has a few years left in her servitude.  However, when her name is connected with the prophesy of the imminent death of the last dragon, it becomes clear that Jennifer's immediate future will involve more than paperwork and contract negotiation.

The second book in the Chronicles of Kazam, The Song of the Quarkbeast, will be released in the US in September (it's been available in the UK since 2011).

Of Love and Shadows by Isabel Allende

Of Love and Shadows by Isabel Allende
translated from the Spanish by Margaret Sayers Peden

This is the story of a woman and a man who loved one another so deeply that they saved themselves from a banal existence. I have carried it in my memory, guarding it carefully so it would not be eroded by time, and it is only now, in the silent nights of this place, that I can finally tell it. I do it for them, and for others who have confided their lives to me saying: Here, write it, or it will be erased by the wind. -author's note

Over the weekend I finished Of Love and Shadows, a novel that (according to the Bookcrossing journal for the copy I have) has been on my bookshelves since April 2006.

Of Love and Shadows is one of Allende's early novels (initial publication in 1984). The copy I have has the cover depicted in this post (1988 Bantam mass market paperback). When I was viciously weeding the book collection post-move, I almost put this book in the Bookcrossing wild-release pile despite the fact that I like Allende's novels. Why? Because of the cover. Not because of the cover art, which is undeniably dated, but because of the blurbs selected for the back-cover text. The review blurbs, while positive, felt backhanded as they all seemed to say "it's good... for a political novel." Overtly political and/or religious novels can be a real turn-off for me, especially when they are preachy, so I would have been perfectly justified in weeding Of Love and Shadows. I didn't, though, and Of Love and Shadows does have a decided political stance, depicting as it does a fictionalized Chile under Pinochet.  But, the novel is about a romance as much as it is about the fate of the desaparecidos and those left to mourn them (see Allende's epigraphic author's note above) and I think that Of Love and Shadows balances the two stories much better than other novels I've read that have attempted to do the same.

Astray by Emma Donoghue

Astray by Emma Donoghue

[F]or the past decade and a hlaf, I've been writing stories about travels to, within, and occasionally from the United States and Canada. Most of these travelers are real people who left traces in the historical record; a few are characters I invented to put a face on real incidents of border crossing. Many of them stray in several sense, when in the course of their journeys across geographical and political boundaries they find themselves stepping over other ones: law, sex, or race. Emigrants, immigrants, adventurers, and runaways--they fascinate me because they loiter on the margins, stripped of the markers of family and nation; they're out of place, out of their depth. (Afterword, 263)

I loved everything about this book (including the cover art). As Donoghue explains so eloquently in her Afterword, Astray is a collection of short stories that together are a study on what it means to stray (in every sense of the word). The stories are thematically organized into three groups: departures, in transit, and arrivals and aftermaths. They are set at various points in time between 1639 and 1967 and focus on a diverse group of individuals.

My favorite thing about Astray is that the stories are inspired by something that actually happened (or supposedly happened). Each story is followed by a note, usually a couple of paragraphs long, that explains its inspiration. What I like most is that the genesis of some of the stories is the smallest mention of something in a historical document. One of the joys of working as an archivist is coming across the types of tidbits that piqued Donoghue's interest. Our most visceral reaction to such a discovery is either a great desire to find out more information (research imperative) or a need to speculate about what really happened, using our imagination to fill in the gaps (daydreaming), or both. I suspect most of us don't often act on the former (because we have work to do), but instead keep mental lists (or photocopies) of the potential-laden morsels (I know I do). I love that Donoghue has followed these paths to their logical conclusion and given life to the historical snippets that haunted her.

I want a copy for my library. Astray is going on my wish list.

Safekeeping by Karen Hesse

Safekeeping by Karen Hesse

Teenage Radley Parker-Hughes is volunteering at an orphanage in Haiti when the President of the United States is assassinated. Despite the reports that have managed to filter to her remote location, Radley decides that she must return home to be with her parents during this time of unrest. When she arrives in Manchester, New Hampshire, she finds the country under martial law. Her parents' phone has been disconnected. She can't take a bus to Battleboro because she lacks the appropriate travel documents for crossing state lines. Radley's only choice is to walk home along country roads, trying to avoid being caught out after the newly imposed curfews.

With no money (her emergency credit card is now a useless piece of plastic) or food, Radley is reduced to foraging in dumpsters along the way. That she manages to arrive home safe and sound seems like a victory. Her parents, though, are not at home. It seems that they have disappeared, leaving all of their belongings behind. Radley locks herself inside the house, hiding whenever the police make their increasingly frequent visits, and eating all of the food in the pantry. Eventually she resigns herself to the pointlessness of remaining in Battleboro and decides to go to Canada...

I discovered Safekeeping among the featured recently-acquired titles in the teen room of the public library. I was sold on the cover art and flap text, especially this bit:

Illustrated by 90 of her own haunting and beautiful photographs, this is a vision of a future America that only Karen Hesse could write: real, gripping, and deeply personal.

But I have to admit disappointment with the novel. While I do appreciate that Safekeeping is a stand-alone novel,¹ I am dissatisfied with how easily Hesse ties everything up. That, combined with the fact that readers are never given a full backstory for the political and societal unrest, leaves the dystopian premise feeling insubstantial.

The story is very much character-driven and Radley's coming-of-age is the true center of the novel. Hesse does a wonderful job bringing Radley up and using the privations of the situation to facilitate that up-bringing. My disappointment is in how easy everything seems to be for Radley (all the truly awful things happen to other people) and how distant the threat seems to be. In short, Safekeeping seems like Dystopia light.

L: A Novel History² (which I read earlier this year) is constructed around a similar blip-in-the-history-of-the-nation kind of Dystopia. However, L's Dystopia was as horrifying (or more so) as any other I've encountered in fiction (to the point where I could only read the novel in small doses). What I wanted for Safekeeping was for more of the feeling that hell had broken loose (that phrase is used on the flap as well as within the novel) even if only for a time. Then again, limiting the reach of the threat may have been a goal. It does make the novel more palatable for younger readers.

The photographs are indeed both haunting and beautiful. I also love the idea that Hesse took them while tracing the same route she has Radley walk (as described in "about the author," 293-294) and that the "feet-on-the-ground research contributed to the authenticity of Radley's narrative." However, the placement of the photographs within the novel is inconsistent. Sometimes a photo matches the prose almost too perfectly, while at others the image seems at odds with the text.

One final comment -
The library copy of the novel was marked with a science-fiction spine sticker. That categorization is so off that I can only imagine that dystopian fiction is now considered (at least by some) a subgenre of SciFi. In any case, there is nothing in Safekeeping that I associate with science fiction. The novel is set in the future, but that imagined future is so near that it could happen tomorrow.

1. I do like series, but is seems like so much that is being published nowadays (especially in YA fiction) is a trilogy or quartet or longer series.
2. I received a review copy via NetGalley.

Insurgent by Veronica Roth

Insurgent by Veronica Roth
series: Divergent Trilogy, 2

Considering how much I liked Divergent (see post), it's no surprise that I enjoyed its sequel, Insurgent.

Insurgent continues the overarching storyline begun in Divergent. During the course of the novel readers learn more about the other factions (and the factionless) and how the groups relate to each other. We also get a better idea of how five-faction society functions as a whole and how and why it came into being.

Beatrice and her love interest from Divergent maintain their relationship¹ and it continues to be complex and somewhat complicated.

On a side note, I love Insurgent's cover art. It's beautiful and compelling with great movement. It also echoes Divergent's cover in a nice way while still standing on its own legs.

1. Good. I dislike nothing more than series that follow the new-installment-new-love-interest modus operandi.

more quick thoughts on more recent reads

The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree
by Susan Wittig Albert

Crime-solving highjinks set against the backdrop of Depression-era south.

The first in a series of cozy mysteries set in the early 1930s. The sleuths are members of Darling, Alabama's garden club. The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree features murder, bank fraud, a prison break, a haunting, twelve garden club ladies, and two cucumber trees. That's quite a bit to pack into one novel, but Albert juggles everything admirably. I enjoyed The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree and would be interested in continuing on with the series.

A Hope Undaunted by Julie Lessman

Never judge a book by its cover.

If I had realized that A Hope Undaunted was an inspirational romance (i.e. Christian romantic fiction) I would not have checked it out. I did read it the entire novel because I needed to find out whether the feisty young women's rights advocate would be convinced of the importance of unquestioningly obeying her father and (future) husband. I found it overbearing.

The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry

Self-published novel turned NY Times bestseller.

Set primarily in Salem, Massachusetts, and its environs, The Lace Reader examines Salem's legacy in an interesting way at a time when witchcraft good PR not a crime. Its unreliable narrator is a professed liar, but it is unclear just how much of her story is fiction for the majority of the novel. Compelling reading.

The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh

A contemporary fictional meditation on the Victorian language of flowers.

I've been intrigued with the language of flowers since I first learned about it years ago. The problem with floriography is that the meanings of the flowers vary from source to source and the sentiments attributed to a particular bloom can be contradictory. One of the things that I liked most about Diffenbaugh's novel, The Language of Flowers, was the author's inclusion as an addendum of the floriography dictionary developed by her protagonist (and another character) during the course of the novel. The novel itself wasn't quite what I expected it (oh how the protagonist drove me to distraction at times with her inability to trust), but I appreciated it nonetheless.

Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein

Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein

Code Name Verity will be released a bit later this month. I've just finished reading a review copy and I adored it. I'm putting a hard copy on my wishlist and I'll be buying copies to give as gifts. Such a good book.

I don't want to spoil the plot so I won't say much about it. Code Name Verity is a work of historical fiction. The action occurs primarily in Nazi-occupied France. One protagonist is a pilot. The other begins the novel imprisoned in a hotel that had been converted into a Gestapo headquarters.

Don't be put off by the novel's slow start. While Code Name Verity is by no means a quick read, the pace quickens and the story becomes increasingly engaging until the reader is so invested in the characters that she simply must find out what happens to them. Code Name Verity is not always easy to read, but that's because horrible things happen during wartime.

With two teenage protagonists, Code Name Verity is being marketed as a young-adult novel, but there is much to recommend it to a wider audience. Strong female characters, an effective split narrative, action and adventure, double-agents and double entendres, and moments of shock and awe, topped off by a realistic setting and storyline complete with bibliography.

Note: The image I've included in this post is the cover of the UK edition (published in February), which I like much better than one designed for the US edition.

disclosure: I received a review copy of Code Name Verity from Disney Hyperion via NetGalley.

You or Someone Like You by Chandler Burr

You or Someone Like You by Chandler Burr

I don't find this novel's title or cover art particularly appealing.¹ My familiarity with the author² was the only reason I checked You or Someone Like You out to read on my Nook.

At the outset of Burr's roots as an author of nonfiction are clear. He begins with a three-page author's note,³ in which he explains exactly to what extent his fiction is fictional. I did read the author's note (I don't always) and it seemed like overkill to me. A result the author's discomfort with the medium? a mark of our litigious society? However, now that I've finished the novel, I see why he included the note. The entire novel revolves around something that happens to one of the characters. Because of the virulence this incident and its consequences provokes (in the characters and, possibly, in the novel's readers), it was important for the author to ground the event in reality, to affirm that it wasn't something he dreamed up simply to torture his characters.

I have decidedly mixed feelings about You or Someone Like You. I loved how literary it was. The novel is filled with books and references to authors and their various works and it made me want to reread some titles and tackle other authors for the first time. Burr makes some wonderfully astute observations about both literature and the human condition. He also incorporates a bevy of real-life characters (mostly film industry people) in walk-on roles. Some readers will love this aspect of You or Someone Like You, but it didn't do much for me considering that I didn't always recognize the individuals featured.

I do think, though, that Burr was a bit too focused on the moral of his story. Towards the end of You or Someone Like You Burr effectively mutes one of the key characters, allowing the righteous indignation of another to completely swamp the narrative. In doing this Burr is likely to alienate his readers as effectively as his protagonist alienates her acquaintances. There's also the moral itself, which some readers will appreciate and others will find impossible to tolerate.

You or Someone Like You would definitely make for an interesting book club discussion.

1. Actually, I really don't like the cover. I find both the people pictured on it a bit unnerving
2. I'd read and enjoyed The Perfect Scent (see post).
3. He also includes source notes after the concluding chapter

Agatha H. and the Airship City by Phil and Kaja Foglio

Agatha H. and the Airship City by Phil and Kaja Foglio

Agatha H. and the Airship City is a novelization of the first few installments of Phil and Kaja Foglio's Girl Genius comic. I honestly had no intention of reading it (the comic is quite wonderful and I saw Agatha H. and the Airship City as nothing but an unnecessary adaptation), but my resolve faltered when in the face of a library copy sitting in my bedroom (Russell checked it out intending to read it himself).

First things first - I have to say that I hate the cover art for Agatha H. and the Airship City in particular the portrayal of the novel's protagonist (cover-Agatha seems both emaciated and insipid to me). It boggles my mind that the publisher would commission art from an artist (it had to be commissioned because it clearly depicts characters from the novel) when the novel's authors include an artist, who has previously (and extensively) drawn the characters.

As expected I began Agatha H. and the Airship City with a healthy dose of skepticism. But I am happy to report that the more I read of the novel, the more I liked it, but still not as much as I like the comics. The storyline has been filled out and embellished (fuller backstories, for example), but so much of what is portrayed only through the art in the original is lost in the novelization and the tone, especially at the outset, is much bleaker.

Personal Days by Ed Park

Personal Days by Ed Park

I checked Personal Days out on a whim. I happened across it while browsing the library's available ebooks. It sounded Office Space-like, it had good reviews blurbs, and I liked the cover.

Let me start off my admitting that I did not finish Personal Days. I gave up around page 145 when I realized that all of Part III (pages 141-182) took the form of one email, one one-paragraph email, one one-paragraph drunken email. The idea of having to read those last 40 unformatted stream-of-consciousness pages on my Nook was simply too much for me and I threw in the towel.  I hadn't connected with any of the characters--in a sense they were as much strangers with me as they were to each other--so I felt no compunction about giving up on Personal Days.

That being said, Personal Days is indeed hilarious as advertised (it had its moments). The narrative style changes throughout the course of the novel though  it is quite choppy in general.  I'm sure the choppiness is  intentional and meant to play up the anxiety the characters feel in the workplace.

Anyone who has ever worked in an office environment can likely relate to what the characters in Personal Days think, feel, and experience (more so those who have worked in an unhealthy workplace). I would not recommend Personal Days to anyone working at an organization where layoffs are feared if not imminent as it will likely hit a little too close to home.

reading H.P. Lovecraft

Even though I'm not supposed to be buying books for myself, I did pick up one during this latest blog-neglecting period. When I was book shopping for my nieces and nephews (a post on that topic coming soon) I happened across this deeply discounted title: Tales of H.P. Lovecraft, introduced and selected by Joyce Carol Oates. Now that we (finally) have a copy of Arkham Horror, a board game built around H.P. Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos, I felt it was high time that both Russell and I read Lovecraft's work (and I love the cover art). I also figure that I might as well share my thoughts on the individual stories on the blog. So far I've read the first three.

The stories included in Tales of H.P. Lovecraft are supposedly his major works. I'm not sure if the stories are arranged chronologically or with any rhyme or reason and I don't remember reading anything about that the arrangement in the volume's introduction.

Joyce Carol Oates' Introduction (9.5 pages)
I appreciated getting a bit more biographical information about Lovecraft. What a horrible, horrible mother he had. JCO references many writers while placing Lovecraft in the context, explains the Cthulhu Mythos and its origins, identifies the overlap of Lovecraft's imaginary geography with areas in the Northeast United States, and outlines reader response. However some of the most interesting bits of the essay aren't specific to Lovecraft and his work.

JCO on the difference between genre and literary fiction:

Readers of genre-fiction, unlike readers of what we presume to call "literary fiction," assume a tacit contract between themselves and the writer: they understand that they will be manipulated, but the question is how? and when? and with what skill? and to what purpose? However plot-ridden, fantastical or absurd, populated by whatever pseudo-characters, genre-fiction is always resolved, while literary fiction makes no such promises; there is no contract between reader and write for, in theory at least, each work of literary fiction is original, and, in essence, "about" its language; anything can happen, or, upon occasion, nothing. Genre fiction is addictive, literary fiction, unfortunately is not. (xiii)

Nostalgia: "To love the past, to extol the past, to year in some way to inhabit the past is surely to misread the past, purposefully or otherwise; above all, it's to select from the past only those aspects that accommodate a self-protective and self-nourishing fantasy" (xi).

"The Outsider" (5+ pages)
Even though I'm pretty sure that I had not previously read any Lovecraft, I was struck with profound sense of déjà vu when reading "The Outsider." A disappointing start to the collection, short with its surprise ending so obviously that even twist seems inappropriate.

"The Music of Erich Zann" (7 pages)
A bit creepier, but the framed narrative gives the reader a bit too much distance.

"The Rats in the Walls" (16 pages)
Finally a really good ending. "The Rats in the Walls" gave me hope for both Lovecraft and this volume.

Ten Thousand Lovers by Edeet Ravel

Ten Thousand Lovers by Edeet Ravel

Ten Thousand Lovers is one of those books that has been sitting on my shelves for quite some time (more than five years according to its Bookcrossing journal). It survived the great library purge of 2011 despite the fact that I've had no compelling urge to read it in all that time. Why? Well, the cover art is quite beautiful, it has a medallion indicating that it was a finalist for Canada's Governor General's Award, and its back-cover text is quite enticing, particularly this bit:

In today's world, where danger, terrorism and the possibility of war are part of all our lives, no novel could be more brilliantly, terrifyingly contemporary. Yet Ten Thousand Lovers is set in Israel in the Seventies: a dazzling backdrop to a universal story of passion, suffering and the transcending power of love.

Ten Thousand Lovers was in an easy-to-reach section of my bookshelves and after grabbing it from there recently, I decided to go ahead and read it for the reasons mentioned above.

Lily is now an academic in England. Her daughter is of an age and embarking on her first serious relationship. Ten Thousand Lovers is Lily's reflection on that time in her own life. Though Lily spent her earliest years on a kibbutz, she is more Canadian than Israeli when she returns to Israel for college and meets a man whose job working for the Israeli army as an interrogator fills her with distaste.

Lily's recounting of her relationship with Ami is full of semantic digressions. A linguist, she can't help but explain the origins and meanings of the words that comprise their story. Rather than being distracting, these digressions inform the story and serve to better explicate the situation in Israel both at the time the story takes place and now.

Ten Thousand Lovers is a beautifully written novel. It is moving and sad and filled with truisms ("you can't quantify unhappiness," p. 296). It is a story that begs to be read and one that will stick with its readers long after they close the novel's covers.

The Iron Duke by Meljean Brook

The Iron Duke by Meljean Brook

As I mentioned before, I ordered The Iron Duke (with Amazon giftcard balance) after reading this post on Bookshelves of Lesser Doom.

I started and finished it yesterday while Russell has happily learning how to play Wilderness War, one of the board games I got him for his birthday (yes, we have a board game collection).

The Iron Duke is the first in Brooks' Iron Seas series (Heart of Steel is scheduled for a November 2011 release).

I haven't read Brooks before, but The Iron Duke was more or less what I expected. Brooks does a wonderful job of world building (she continues to reveal aspects of the society to the reader throughout the novel subtly) and the setting she's imagined is complex and intriguing. The hero and heroine were both interesting characters with involved backstories. The romance, however, was boilerplate: beautiful, underprivileged girl must give herself to brutish, rich man to save family, he turns out not to be so much of a brute and she falls in love. There's a scene that may be upsetting to some readers. It didn't bother me, but I'd been warned of a possible rape scene so I was expecting something much worse than what I actually read.

I know that authors rarely if ever have control over the coverart for their novels, but after reading The Iron Duke I am bothered by how wildly inappropriate the cover's depiction of Rhys is. It's not just that the depiction is inaccurate, but I can't elaborate further without including backstory spoilers.

Mothers and Daughters

Mothers and Daughters by Rae Meadows

Examining the choices made by a line of women, Mothers and Daughters charts the secret history of one family. The story is told from three different perspectives, focused on the present day and the turn of the century.

Sam is a ceramic artist and new mother who is struggling with the idea of going back to work and worry about how motherhood will affect her creative output. Her mother, Iris, has come to terms with the fact that she's dying of cancer, but has yet to pass that acquiescence on to her children. 100+ years earlier, eleven-year-old Violet is running wild on the streets of New York City, her mother unable to care for her.

Mothers and Daughters deals with two meaty subjects: motherhood (and the sacrifices inherent therein) and the orphan train movement. But, while the novel was well-structured, it was too short to do justice to each of its three protagonists. On reaching the novel's final page, I was unsatisfied in spite of the fitting final chapter. Mothers and Daughters lacked the depth I expected from a novel exploring these themes.

Iris in particular was given short shrift. For me, Iris was no more substantial than Lilibeth (Violet's mother) despite being one of the novel's protagonists. On reflection, I think it might have been better for the novel as a whole to let Iris remain a secondary character and have her story revealed by her mother and daughter.

Violet and Sam are much more fully-drawn that Iris (though in my opinion Iris is a more interesting character than Sam). Violet is definitely the star of the novel. Her story is the most compelling.

While readers learn about the lives of Violet and Iris, Sam really doesn't. The box of mementos she receives from Iris via her brother is enough to show Sam that there is much that she doesn't know about her mother and grandmother, but we don't know how much she'll ever be able to learn about them.

Mothers and Daughters is not a bad novel, or a poorly written one. It just could have been so much better.

I'm not all that keen on the cover art for Mothers and Daughters. It's not bad, but it doesn't match the novel. Its technicolor pop seems out of character with the story and the butterfly wings on the child are whimsical (I suppose they are supposed to represent the innocence and imagination of childhood) where the novel is not. The advanced reader copy I received from the publisher had the cover pictured above, but was encased as pictured to the left. The wooden-box design is a direct reference to the box that Sam receives filled with Iris' mementos. I can't help but think that someone at the publisher must have realized too late that the cover art was a bit off.

disclosure: As should be obvious from the above, I received an advanced reader copy of Mothers and Daughters from Henry Holt.

The Goddess Test

The Goddess Test by Aimée Carter

Aimée Carter's debut novel, The Goddess Test, is a "modern-day sequel" to the myth of Persephone.¹

Highschooler Kate Winters² moves from New York City to Eden, Michigan so that her mother, who is dying of cancer, can spend her last few months in her hometown. When disaster befalls one of her new schoolmates, help materializes in the form of Henry (aka Hades). Henry who will bring the girl back from the dead provided Kate promises him one thing. Kate will have to reread the myth of Persephone to find out just what she's agreed to do.

I loved the concept behind The Goddess Test and was eager to read it. Both the title and the book description led me to think that the plot of the novel would be much more focused on the test than it actually was. I also assumed that the readers would know about the individual tests as they were happening even if Kate didn't. The fact that they were kept secret until the end wasn't exactly a disappointment, but it was surprising.

Kate is a sympathetic character, Henry is enigmatic (attractive in that tortured-genius way), but the other characters are mostly one-dimensional. I liked the fact that the novel included a key to the characters at the end. While some of the alter egos were obvious, but the identification of others required a solid grounding in Greek mythology and for one to have paid very close attention to details throughout the course of the novel. Even then you might not make the connections, I know I didn't. Then again Carter's versions of the Olympians are significantly nicer and more subdued than those depicted in Greek mythology (maybe she's saying that they've mellowed over time?),²³ which is something that impedes identification and may irritate some readers.

Overall, while I enjoyed The Goddess Test, I was disappointed in Carter's inexplicable Christianization of the Olympians (Rick Riordan does a much better job of modernizing the gods in his Percy Jackson books).

Apparently The Goddess Test is the first in a trilogy. The second title, Goddess Interrupted, is already in the works.

As for the cover art, I quite like the fake Greek font for the title, but I'm not keen on it's placement or all the text on the top (yes, I know they want that Clare quote to draw in Mortal Instruments readers, but if they were going to place it where the did, they might have dropped the "New York Times bestselling [...]" bit for the sake of the overall look of the cover since her readers obviously know who she is). The images work well together, but I would have preferred a bit less of a come-hither look on the model's face.

1. Carter's Frequently-asked-questions page.
2. Did you catch that reference?
3. Actually, better might be the right adjective; better as in more virtuous.

ETA disclosure: I received a review copy of The Goddess Test (which I requested after reading a review of the book on WORD for Teens) from Harlequin Teen via NetGalley.

The White Woman on the Green Bicycle

The White Woman on the Green Bicycle by Monique Roffey

"That's who we were: the last colonials to arrive in Trinidad, before things changed for good" (202).

I took my time reading this book and it seems that I've taken my time writing up this review. As for the writing, I'll admit it, I've been procrastinating. Every time I sit down to write about The White Woman on the Green Bicycle, the prospect seems daunting and I'm not quite sure why.

The White Woman on the Green Bicycle isn't necessarily an enjoyable book (the opening scene: four corrupt policemen bring a teenager out to the wilderness and beat him nearly to death because he reported one of them for stealing his cellular phone), but it is compelling. Roffey's atmospheric writing evokes Trinidad in all its lush, steamy, corrupt and gritty glory.

Covering a fifty year period, The White Woman on the Green Bicycle follows the history of a marriage and growing pains of a young nation. Its story begins in January 1956 when Sabine and George Harwood arrive in Trinidad as newlyweds and Eric Williams launches his People's National Movement. The narrative, however, begins in 2006, tarrying there for 190 pages before returning to 1956. Roffey doesn't explain the frequently used word steupse¹ until page 220 giving the reader a small taste of the disorientation Sabine must have felt when she arrived in Trinidad.

One of the things I liked most about the novel is that Trinidad herself is a character. She is as real to Sabine as Eric Williams is (e.g. "every morning Sabine recognized her competition. This island flexed its charms, laughed in her face as she withered," pp.121-122).

I have to admit that I knew next to nothing about Trinidad's history before I read The White Woman on the Green Bicycle so the novel was a bit of an education to me. I particularly appreciated the fact that Roffey is able to come across as objective. She doesn't simplifying things by laying the blame for Trinidad's mismanagement or the Harwood's martial problems on any one person. And, even though both Sabine and George horribly flawed and unlikable, Roffey lets us see them at moments when one can't help by sympathize with them.

What I didn't particularly like was the novel's ending. I understand why Roffey ended The White Woman on the Green Bicycle when and how she did, but there was at least one thing left unresolved that plagues me.² (I did quite like how the 2006 part of the novel ended, unexpected and powerful)

There is so much more that I could say about this novel, but I think I will simply share a passage that I bookmarked:

I loved to ride past the big mansions there, the former estate houses of the cocoa barons. Most stood empty, one was a school [...] The house on the corner looked like a Rhineland castle, another like an eccentric gunboat, all spires and cupolas and oval windows. One was like a wedding cake made of coral. Another looked like a French chateau. All mimicked bygone European architecture; all seemed ludicrous rather than stately. A castle on the savannah? A chateau surrounded by coconut trees? [...] These houses gave me a sense of comfort; like me, they were hopelessly at odds with their environment. (219)

The White Woman on the Green Bicycle was shortlisted for the 2010 Orange Prize (the winner was Barbara Kingsolver's sixth novel, The Lacuna).

On a side note: there is something quite compelling about the novel's cover.

1. To suck on ones teeth in disapproval or annoyance
2. Talbot, what happens with him?

ETA disclosure: I received a review copy of The White Woman on the Green Bicycle from Penguin via NetGalley.

Steamed

Steamed by Katie Macalister

Jack Fletcher is a computer engineer and steampunk enthusiast. When his sister¹ accidentally causes an explosion in Jack's lab, both are knocked unconscious. They wake in the hold of an airship in an alternative world that is the stuff of Jack's fantasies. He quickly becomes smitten with the ship's captain, the red-headed Octavia, who believes that the stowaways are spies.

Russell happened across Steamed while browsing the library catalog (or Amazon or something) and pointed it out to me. I figured it couldn't hurt to give it a try (I do like romance novels and we are getting more into steampunk). I read Steamed during the move-stress-induced blog-dry-spell. It was the kind of book that I was wanting to read during that time period (light) so it was convenient that my name finally made it to the top of the library waiting list for the ebook.

I was less disappointed in Steamed than I was irritated with it. When I read a romance novel, I'm not expecting it to be good literature. I want to be able to relate to either the heroine or hero, I want the two of them to have chemistry and for their relationship to develop in a somewhat-realistic way. I can usually put up with all kinds of odd settings and unrealistic situations, provided that they don't distract overmuch from the main thrust of the story, the romance.

This book fell flat for me precisely because the two main characters and their relationship were not compelling. Even if they were, I'm not sure they would have been able to combat the myriad distractions I encounter.

There were the secondary characters. Jack's sister is little more than a means for furthering the plot at certain points (and the fact that Jack and Octavia were able to carry on as they did after the sister was abducted highlighted the fact that she wasn't a substantive person). Mr. Francisco and his horrible flowery speech were completely unnecessary (its not like there wasn't at least one other potential rival for Jack). Mr. Llama's ability to mysteriously disappear was mentioned so many times even though it had no bearing on the story.

There was the fact that Jack was a Quaker. While it is nice to have your characters , it seemed like a strange choice to make him a pacifist and then send him into this dangerous environment. The oddest thing was that Jack being a Quaker came up over and over again to the point when it seemed like the author might have been using the book to "educate" her readers about the Society of Friends and their beliefs. It is also a bit hard to reconcile Jack's moralism (re. non-violence) with his extremely lustful nature.²

What struck me the most was the lack of steampunk in the "steampunk romance." Jack uses the term "steampunk" quite often, but Steamed really isn't a steampunk novel. It's like Macalister decided to add some elements she thought of as steampunk so that she could get in on the steampunk craze (if there really is a steampunk craze). Actually, though, it really seemed to me that Macalister was making fun of people who do steampunk cosplay rather than using Steamed as a way to draw in a new group of readers. Jack is obsessed with goggles and the fact that no one wears them (he also wants to know why Octavia doesn't wear her corset on the outside of her clothes; Octavia is confused by this query as she views corsets as underwear not outerwear). This wasn't mentioned the once, but rather revisited over and over again, which is what gave me the mocking vibe because corsets and goggles both feature prominently in many steampunk outfits. Notice, though, that both goggles and an external corset are featured in the novel's cover art.

1. I can't remember her name and she's not important enough as a character to be named in the publisher's synopsis.
2. I had to the strongest desire to type "horndog."

a juicy find

This week as I was browsing the State University of New York Press catalogs, I came across a particularly juicy title from their Excelsior Editions¹ and I just had to share.

Arsenic and Clam Chowder by James D. Livingston

Arsenic and Clam Chowder recounts the sensational 1896 murder trial of Mary Alice Livingston, a member of one of the most prestigious families in New York, who was accused of murdering her own mother, Evelina Bliss. The bizarre instrument of death, an arsenic-laced pail of clam chowder, had been delivered to the victim by her ten-year-old granddaughter, and Livingston was arrested in her mourning clothes immediately after attending her mother’s funeral. In addition to being the mother of four out-of-wedlock children, the last born in prison while she was awaiting trial, Livingston faced the possibility of being the first woman to be executed in New York’s new-fangled electric chair, and all these lurid details made her arrest and trial the central focus of an all-out circulation war then underway between Joseph Pulitzer’s World and Randolph Hearst’s Journal.
The story is set against the electric backdrop of Gilded Age Manhattan. The arrival of skyscrapers, automobiles, motion pictures, and other modern marvels in the 1890s was transforming urban life with breathtaking speed, just as the battles of reformers against vice, police corruption, and Tammany Hall were transforming the city’s political life. The aspiring politician Teddy Roosevelt, the prolific inventor Thomas Edison, bon vivant Diamond Jim Brady, and his companion Lillian Russell were among Gotham’s larger-than-life personalities, and they all played cameo roles in the dramatic story of Mary Alice Livingston and her arsenic-laced clam chowder. In addition to telling a ripping good story, the book addresses a number of social and legal issues, among them capital punishment, equal rights for women, societal sexual standards, inheritance laws in regard to murder, gender bias of juries, and the meaning of “beyond a reasonable doubt.”

Arsenic and Clam Chowder doesn't seem like typical university-press fare, but it is written by a member of the academy (albeit a physist and engineer who happens to be an amateur historian). And it fits into the Excelsior imprint since the Livingstons are a prominent New York family.

I'm not particularly keen on the cover art (though I'll allow that it may look better in person that it does online), but the story is quite compelling, is it not?

1. Excelsior Editions is an imprint devoted to the history, culture, society, and environment of New York and its surrounding states.
   On a side note: excelsior is the motto of New York state (featured on the state seal and all); it means "ever higher."