Chronicles of a Book Evangelist

Top 10 Reads of 2012

I know I'm a little behind on this as well, but I really wanted to revisit my favorite reads of 2012 before moving on to the new year.  I already have reviews posted for most of them, but the few I don't are scheduled to appear this month.  So, without further ado, my top ten favorite reads of 2012:

Middle Grade:

Ordinary Magic by Caitlen Rubino-Bradway is the beautifully told story of Abby, a completely "ordinary" girl in a magical world.  I loved Rubino-Bradway's world building almost as much as I loved the relationships between her characters.

Young Adult:

I Hunt Killers by Barry Lyga is one of those books that takes hold of you and doesn't let go.  I devoured it, loved it, and still can't stop thinking about it.  Jaz is such an incredibly creepy, wonderful, complex character, and I can't wait to learn more about him.

 

Seraphina by Rachel Hartman is one of those rare novels that I would almost dare call perfect.  At least perfect for me.  It is an amazing representation of high fantasy with exceptional world building and positive representations of women!!!!  There is math! and logic! and romance! and dragons!

 

 

And All The Stars by Andrea K Höst completely took me by surprise.  Aside from the fact that it is self-published and still knocks the socks off almost everything else I read this year, it is also just an amazingly well done novel.  Höst manages to ask some really big questions while being incredibly entertaining, and I just can't get this book out of my head.

 

Unspoken by Sarah Rees Brennan is another one of those perfect for me books.  It is an exceptional (though cliffhangery) beginning to a gothic series in the style of Mary Stewart, only YA, and modernized.  Again, when I try to talk about this book I turn into a gushy fan-girl.  Just read it.

 

Wanderlove by Kirsten Hubbard is the story of Bria, a young girl who tries to leave herself behind and instead finds herself.  It was full of quotable quotes and insightful bits about travelling and had an adorably believable romance. 

 

Preloved by Shirley Marr is a ghost story.  About a modern girl and a ghost from the 80s.  It's so funny that I choked myself laughing more than once.  It's Australian -- which is the YA equivalent of saying PURE GOLD.  What is not to love?

 

 

Kill Me Softly by Sarah Cross is part fairytale retelling and part fairytale reinvention.  I love that Cross brings in the dark bits of old Grimm fairytales, incorporates things the Disney generations would be familiar with, and still manages to create a wonderfully fresh world.  

 

Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein is simply stunning.  It is historical fiction, but still completely true in everything that really matters.  It is gut-wrenchingly beautiful and horrible all at once.  I defy you to read it and not cry.

 

Adult Fiction:

Chasing Magic by Stacia Kane is actually just the newest in the Downside Ghosts Series, many of which were published in 2012.  Stacia Kane went from being a completely unknown-to-me author to one of my favorite urban fantasy authors with this series.  It is dark and gritty and I can't stop reading it.  

And that is the short-list for 2012.  What were some of your favorite reads last year?

Review: Precious Bones by Mika Ashley-Hollinger

Publilsher: Random House Children's Books

Publication Date: May 8, 2012

Goodreads Description:

Meet ten-year-old Bones, whose playground is the Florida swamps, brimming with mystical witches, black bears, alligators and bobcats. Bones' father, Nolay, a Miccosukee Indian, is smart and mischievous. Her Mama, practical as corn bread, can see straight into Bones' soul.

It's summer, and Bones is busy hunting and fishing with her best friend, Little Man. But then two Yankee real estate agents trespass on her family's land, and Nolay scares them off with his gun. When a storm blows in and Bones and Little Man uncover something horrible at the edge of the Loo-chee swamp, the evidence of foul play points to Nolay. The only person that can help Nolay is Sheriff LeRoy, who's as slow as pond water. Bones is determined to take matters into her own hands. If it takes a miracle, then a miracle is what she will deliver.

Review:

One of my favorite uncles growing up was my Uncle Joe.  He was big, larger than life even.  He could sing like Hank Williams.  He was a gifted storyteller who usually focused more on the quality of the story than the truth.  He had that quintessential southern accent -- smooth and warm, it would roll through you like good whiskey.  He could make a mean boiling pot -- with Uncle Joe, food went beyond nourishment and became an event.  He was an amazing and skilled hunter and fisherman.  And (as odd as it may sound coming from this nearly life-long vegetarian) it was partly his love of nature and animals that helped inspire my own.  He was a drifter by nature, unlike Nolay (see! I didn't forget the book!), because his roots were not a place but people.  Like a boomerang he always circled back to us.  Of all the stopping places he found, the one that lasted the longest in my memory was Alabama.  He fell equally in love with the swamp and the Gulf; and, for a man who seldom did such things, he could wax poetically about both.  Uncle Joe was also a lot like Nolay in that he always seemed to have something to prove -- to himself and everyone else.  He was fiercely protective of us, his family, both as people and ideas.  Somehow, after he died, we became a little less a unit and more a collection of people.  He had a temper, and he didn't always make the best choices.   But, like Bones, I didn't see that when I was a child.  All I saw was this amazingly smart man who could do anything except wrong.

These similarities, of course, made my immersion into Precious Bones both quick and thorough.  Despite my personal parallels that made this book particularly compelling, I think many readers will find it equally compelling without them.  Ashley-Hollinger writes with such evocative, eloquent beauty that it just sucks you in and won't let go.  The mystery is fabulous, but the biggest reveals aren't necessarily related to the mystery.  Precious Bones is also a luscious coming of age story, a story about seeing people as they really are and still accepting them.  

Oddly enough, my biggest complaints about Precious Bones are also some of the things I loved most.  I love that Ashley-Hollinger includes regional dialect.  I also love the sweeping descriptions of her surroundings.  There is such a sense of place in Precious Bones.  However, upon closer examination, her descriptions don't make sense in the context of Bone's first person narration.  Bones has neither the education and experience for the similes and metaphors used, nor the vocabulary to have described many things as she did.  As an adult I found the descriptions poignant and apt, but many would have flown right over my son's head without further clarification and definition.  Also, despite the fact that I agree with all of Ashley-Hollinger's "messages" within the book, they were not exactly subtle.  I would hate for that to be what turned kids away from an otherwise beautiful and interesting book.

And, for your listening and viewing pleasure, the song that played through my head for most of my reading -- Hank Williams Jambalaya:

Rating:

3.5 of 5 Stars

This review also appears on Goodreads; a review copy was provided by the publisher.

Review: Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein

Publilsher: Egmont Press

Publication Date: February 6, 2012

Goodreads Description:

I have two weeks. You'll shoot me at the end no matter what I do.

That's what you do to enemy agents. It's what we do to enemy agents. But I look at all the dark and twisted roads ahead and cooperation is the easy way out. Possibly the only way out for a girl caught red-handed doing dirty work like mine — and I will do anything, anything, to avoid SS-Hauptsturmführer von Linden interrogating me again.

He has said that I can have as much paper as I need. All I have to do is cough up everything I can remember about the British War Effort. And I'm going to. But the story of how I came to be here starts with my friend Maddie. She is the pilot who flew me into France — an Allied Invasion of Two.

We are a sensational team.

Review:

 It has been very interesting to see the reviews for Code Name Verity stack up.  Most have been either positively glowing, or the I did not finish/forced myself to finish this abysmally boring book type review; there isn't really much middle ground.  As a long-time fan of Elizabeth Wein I cannot say I am surprised.  I have long loved her books, but then I love historical fiction with an emphasis on the historical and a light touch on the fiction.  I like it Dragnet style -- you know, the names have been changed but the stories are real.  Tim O'Brien style real stories -- any of them could have happened, some of them did, and good luck figuring out which ones are which.  I have long since given up on accurately predicting who else will love Wein's books.  

All of the hallmarks I have come to expect from a Wein book are present in Code Name Verity.  Relentless attention to detail (both historical and otherwise).  Subtly laid clues that you only pick up on in retrospect ("How did I miss that?!").  An unflinching acceptance of the fact that even the most evil of human characteristics are still human, (the result of which have been some of the most interesting and nuanced "bad guys" I have ever read).  And, of course, the amazing heroines.  Women who are cunning and fierce and brave and do unthinkably difficult things because they must be done.  The women in Code Name Verity are, I think, her best yet.  Sometimes her heroines are a little too...much for me -- I admire them but don't always relate to them.  I had no such problem here.  ( In fact, I can't help but think that if I ever met Elizabeth Wein face to face I would be a bit in awe of her.  Is she as formidable and dignified and smart as her characters?)

Here are the reasons I love Code Name Verity.  First, it is epistolary with the action-y current parts told in first person (making it much more pressing) and the more pleasant history told in third person.  I think that was an absolutely brilliant idea on Wein's part for separating the past narration from the present.  It is about real things that real women were doing in the World War II.  (Yes, we did more than grow victory gardens).  Her history is spot on -- I know even Homer nods and all that, but I defy the casual reader to spot an inaccuracy that Wein herself doesn't point out in her notes.  It is a story told from an Allied perspective that still shows the Germans to be capable of the full range of human emotions and behaviours, not just the bad ones.  On a related note, Wein acknowledges all the different aspects of what was going on at the time, but she doesn't really play the sympathy card.  "Just the facts, Ma'am."  (Of course, the different ways that her crafty and unreliable narrator will present those facts can get awfully twisty!)  It is about air planes and flying and female pilots!  (I became obsessed with female pilots after Ezra Idlet gave me a copy of Beryl Markham's West With the Night one evening after a long discussion about great female characters in books.)  Finally, it's also a wonderfully written story of a beautiful friendship; they love each other so much that you can't help but love them for it.  Code Name Verity reminds me of nothing so much as Rick Yancey's Mostrumologist books.  It is not for everyone, and many of the things that make it so exceptional to its fans are what will turn everyone else off.  But, if any of those things sound appealing, this could end up being one of your favorite books ever.

Quotes:

"It's like being in love, discovering your best friend." - pg 68

"And I envied her that she had chosen her work herself and was doing what she wanted to do.  I don't suppose I had any idea what I "wanted" and so I was chosen, not choosing.  There's glory and honor in being chosen.  But not much room for free will."  - p138

Rating:

4.5 of 5 Stars

Other Opinions:

Emily from The Book Geek was not a fan.

Nor was Kelly from Stacked.

Chachic from Chachic's Book Nook really liked it.

So did Maggie Stiefvater

This review also appears on Goodreads; a review copy was provided by the publisher.

Review: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Publisher: Random House Children's Books

Publication Date: March 14, 2006

Literary Awards:

2006: The Quill Award Nominee for Young Adult/Teen, Association Of Jewish Libraries New And Notable Book for Teen Book Award

2007: National Jewish Book Award, Book Sense Book of the Year Award for Children's Literature, Printz Honor, Exclusive Books Boeke Prize,  ALA's Top Ten Best Books for Young Adults

2008: Zilveren Zoen

2009: Prijs van de Kinder- en Jeugdjury Vlaanderen,  Deutscher Jugendliteraturpreis  

2010: Teen Read Award Nominee for Best All-Time-Fave,  Abraham Lincoln Award Nominee

Goodreads Description:

It’s just a small story really, about among other things: a girl, some words, an accordionist, some fanatical Germans, a Jewish fist-fighter, and quite a lot of thievery. . . .

Set during World War II in Germany, Markus Zusak’s groundbreaking new novel is the story of Liesel Meminger, a foster girl living outside of Munich. Liesel scratches out a meager existence for herself by stealing when she encounters something she can’t resist–books. With the help of her accordion-playing foster father, she learns to read and shares her stolen books with her neighbors during bombing raids as well as with the Jewish man hidden in her basement before he is marched to Dachau.

This is an unforgettable story about the ability of books to feed the soul.

Review:

To be completely truthful, I would probably never have reviewed Zusak's The Book Thief if I had not considered giving it away for World Book Night.  It is the kind of book that can affect you deeply if you let it, but the reaction is just as deeply personal.  And, at this point, its awards and accolades allow it to speak for itself.  It is clearly a beautifully written, well constructed book.  There are two things, though, that Zusak does so incredibly well that I feel I have to mention them: his use of language and foreshadowing. 

As Death began his narration, the very first thing that struck me was the words.  In a book that is all about the power and importance of words, that shouldn't come as a surprise, but it did.  Zusak talks about things--familiar things--in a completely different way than I am accustomed, and it changed the way I saw them.  I have heard of people 'carrying' a memory of someone.  However, when Death described Liesel's mother carrying the memory of her brother like a Werner-shaped bag slung over her shoulder, and that she occasionally had to drop him limbs flinging to the platform of the Bahnhof before slinging him back over the other shoulder, Zusak made the cliche so much more visceral--he made it something new.  We can feel the weight of that memory, how unwieldy a burden it must be, the sheer exhaustion her mother must feel while carrying it, but she cannot put it down or leave it behind.  One has baggage for a reason.  Just like when Liesel's crying for her brother is described as "a gang of tears;" or a draft is described as the breeze of the Third Reich gaining strength, or Europe breathing; or perhaps when two grey-eyed men, father and son, disagreeing across a dinner table are described as "metallic eyes" clashing "like tin cans in the kitchen;" each of these instances pack so much more into the words than what is on the surface.  The words are like tightly folded little notes that you must open before you get the full message.  We can see the violence and the multitude of Liesel's tears in the word "gang."  We feel the coolness of the air, the fear in the room, the smallness and helplessness that the people feel as the draft whips by.  And we feel the sharpness, the uncomfortably loud emotional clanging of two like things meeting in discord.  In someone else's hands this 552 page book could have been so much longer, and still not have said everything Zusak was able to communicate.  His words burn, even in their multitude.

I was also greatly struck by something Death says about half way through the book:

I have given you two events in advance, because I don't have much interest in building mystery.  Mystery bores me.  It chores me.  I know what happens and so do you.  It's the machinations that wheel us there that aggravate, perplex, interest, and astound me. (p 243)

Here Death is being very disingenuous, because he is actually quite good at creating a mystery.  Sure, we are given a few very big pieces of the story; we know how some things are going to end.  History tells us how many things are going to end!  But, as Death says himself at the end of that quote, the ending isn't really what is important.  It reminded me a lot of Margaret Atwood's "Happy Endings":

The only authentic ending is the one provided here:
John and Mary die. John and Mary die. John and Mary die.

So much for endings. Beginnings are always more fun. True connoisseurs, however, are known to favor the stretch in between, since it's the hardest to do anything with.

That's about all that can be said for plots, which anyway are just one thing after another, a what and a what and a what.

Now try How and Why.

The mystery, the beauty, of The Book Thief lies in the how and why.  Even knowing some of the really big pieces, and picking up on the increasingly obvious foreshadowing, I was still left completely emotionally unprepared for how and why certain things occurred.  Zusak is a true connoisseur.

The thing I think I most love about The Book Thief, though, comes back to language.  Only this time it is Deutsch.  It is almost impossible to get more than a couple of pages without a new German word or phrase being used or defined.  Zusak never lets the reader forget that the characters about whom they are reading, for whom they now care, are Germans in Nazi Germany.  He gives Germans back their voice, and, in doing so, fights a propaganda machine that has been chugging away continuously for over 100 years now with the same message: All Germans are bad. All Germans are bad. All Germans are bad.  That is not to say that we don't occasionally get movies or books about the everyday Germans who were doing good things, being heroes in both little and big ways, but they are often Anglicized.  Aside from character or place names, all Deutsch is removed from the text.  And, unless they are Nazis or Evil Geniuses (or in the case of Indiana Jones movies, both) their accents are crisply British or smoothly American.  (Hence the reason that an atrocity such as Tom Cruise playing Claus von Stauffenberg can occur!!!  Breath, just breath.)  We sometimes get so caught up in what the Nazis did, thought, were, etc., that we forget that to be German and to be a Nazi were vastly different things.  Not all Nazis wore uniforms; and not everyone who wore a uniform was a Nazi--compulsory military service will do that.  (And we get to see that with some of the characters.)  I also love that Zusak says this of Max:

[H]e had walked out of that building a new man.  In fact, he walked out German.  Hang on a second, he was German.  Or more to the point, he had been. (p 159)

Taking his lead from famous Jews who would have been contemporaries of Max such as Gertrud Kolmar, Martin Buber, Albert Einstein or Katja Behrens, he shows that, at least for them, it was never a choice: They were German and Jewish.  

Despite its Literary bent or all of the Big Things, Important Topics, or Issues addressed within, at the end of the day The Book Thief is really just a beautifully written story.  A story about a young girl who learns the power of words in a difficult time; that "books and words...mean not just something, but everything."  And it can make you believe that, too, if you let it.

 This review also appears at Goodreads; I purchased my copy from Nightbird Books.

 

 

Review: Two Crafty Criminals! and How They Were Captured by the Daring Detectives of the New Cut Gang by Philip Pullman

Expected Publication Date: May 08, 2012

Publisher: Random House Children's Books

Goodreads Description:

Benny Kaminsky and Thunderbolt Dobney lead a rag-tag gang of neighborhood rowdies. Their territory is the New Cut on London's South Bank—a place bristling with swindlers, bookies, pickpockets, and the occasional policeman. And their aim is to solve crimes.

When counterfeit coins start showing up in their neighborhood, Thunderbolt fears his own father may be behind the crime. But his friends devise a way to trap the real culprit. Then the gang takes on the case of some stolen silver. They have just two clues—a blob of wax, and an unusually long match. But even this slippery thief is unmasked by the determined kids of the New Cut. 

Filled with silly sleuthing, improbable disguises, crazy ruses, and merry mayhem, these stories are action-packed romps from one of the best storytellers ever—Philip Pullman.

Review:

 Two Crafty Criminals! and How They Were Captured by the Daring Detectives of the New Cut Gang is actually a really long, unwieldy new title for two previously released UK novellas: Thunderbolt's Waxwork and The Gas-Fitters' Ball.  These two hilarious stories tell the adventures of a 'gang' of  enchanting, lively, quirky, kids in Victorian England.

Once again, Pullman has crafted characters that dwell in the reader's mind rather than the page.  These kids are real kids: by turns smart, clueless, brave, cowardly, resourceful, compassionate, condescending, or just plain weird.  Pullman takes turns following the different children, boy and girl alike, with each holding their own.  I think that Two Crafty Criminals would be an exuberantly lively and amusing read to boys and girls alike--no matter which character takes the lead.

Pullman also does and excellent job of establishing time and place.  He drops little hints here and there that make the story feel authentically Victorian, while never allowing the setting to overrun the story.  And the slang is just fun; it was an absolute delight to read this aloud to my son!  

The mysteries, and the antics the kids get up to while solving them, are often over-the-top--making them feel like the stories kids tell each other about their weekends or school vacations while bragging at recess.  They are easily solved, but in a way that leaves young readers feeling triumphant at having figured things out.  Plus, there are whimsically amusing pictures scattered throughout.

I think that Two Crafty Criminals joins the ranks of other Pullman works that are a pleasure to read aloud at bedtime.  It would also do well to encourage a newly independent chapter book reader.  My only caveat: the stories lend themselves best to younger middle grade readers, but the ability needed to understand the slang from context clues, and the occasionally difficult vocabulary words, make them better for older middle grade readers. 

This review also appears at Goodreads; a review copy was provided by the publisher.

Review: The Last Song by Eva Wiseman

Publisher: Tundra Books

Expected Publication Date: April 10, 2012

Goodreads Description:

Spain had been one of the world’s most tolerant societies for eight hundred years, but that way of life was wiped out by the Inquisition. Isabel’s family feels safe from the terrors, torture, and burnings. After all, her father is a respected physician in the court of Ferdinand and Isabella. Isabel was raised as a Catholic and doesn’t know that her family’s Jewish roots may be a death sentence. When her father is arrested by Torquemada, the Grand Inquisitor, she makes a desperate plan to save his life – and her own.
 
Once again, master storyteller Eva Wiseman brings history to life in this riveting and tragic novel.

Review:

It has taken me  a while to review The Last Song because I have struggled with how to approach it.  You see, I am precisely the type of person who would be inherently interested in it, but not at all Wiseman's intended audience.  I am well read in both the middle ages and Jewish history and culture.  In short, I know too much.  That is not to say that Wiseman is in any way ignorant, or that she is wrong; merely that I wanted more detail, more nuance, and more depth from this story than she provided.  The fault, therefore, lies in my expectations and not The Last Song.

First and foremost I want to applaud Wiseman for even tackling the Alhambra Decree and the Spanish Inquisition.  I cannot even begin to count the number of times I have tried - in vain - to put the Holocaust into its proper prospective.  When people ask, 'How could that have happened?' the answer for any student of Jewish history would be, 'Easily!'  European countries have a long and sordid history of treating Jewish people abysmally - everything from laws which classified them as second or third class citizens to expulsions.  It is nice to see something about Jewish history for young readers which is not about the Holocaust.  It saddens me sometimes to see how popular perception had ossified Jewish history and the Holocaust into one and the same thing. 

So few people know that the Spanish Inquisition started primarily because conversos (or Jewish people who had recently, ahem - as in within the past few generations, converted to Christianity were enjoying very high levels of financial, political, occupational, and intellectual success.  Never mind that this was a period of fierce intellectualism within the Jewish community - in stark contrast to the rather ostrich-like approach Christians were taking to the world at the time.  Wiseman does a very good job of highlighting most of these issues within The Last Song without ever getting too dark.  So many things about this time period were made softer, toned down, simplified.  Nobody important dies.  Spaniards who are really close to Isobel never really betray her. Her family makes it out of Spain safely, as do her friends, and she has her happily ever after with the boy she loves.  

The Last Song is a gentle introduction to Jewish history, but it is still a true one.  There are no easy lies, perhaps only careful omissions.  So, while I may have expected the quintessential (and completely un-PC) medieval insult slinging; the dirt and poverty and despair in the Juderia; the families and friends ripped apart by betrayals and arrests - they weren't necessary.  The Last Song was safe enough that it was fun to read, and real enough to make kids think.  And that, to me, makes this a very good book indeed.  

With all that seriousness we need a little break, yeah?  

And Now For Something Completely Different!

 

 

Many thanks to Tundra Books for the ARC

Review also on Goodreads

 

Review: The Académie by Susanne Dunlap

Publisher: Bloomsbury Children's Books

Publication Date: February 28, 2012

Description: 

Eliza Monroe—daughter of the future president of the United States—is devastated when her mother decides to send her to boarding school outside of Paris. But the young American teen is quickly reconciled to the idea when—ooh, la-la!—she discovers who her fellow pupils will be: Hortense de Beauharnais, daughter of Josephine Bonaparte; and Caroline Bonaparte, youngest sister of the famous French general. It doesn't take long for Eliza to figure out that the two French girls are mortal enemies—and that she's about to get caught in the middle of their schemes. 

Loosely drawn from history, Eliza Monroe's imagined coming of age provides a scintillating glimpse into the lives, loves, and hopes of three young women during one of the most volatile periods in French history.

Review:

I suppose I should start off with the fact that this is fiction based VERY loosely on historical figures and events; the story is made up, but the names are real.  Considering how frequently I air my (occasionally annoying) thoughts pertaining to accuracy in details as they apply to persons, places, and events that were real, it will probably come as a surprise that - though Dunlap played fast and loose with her fiction and fact - it didn't really bother me.  (Are you shocked?  I was.)  Maybe it is because her primary characters were people that I knew of but little about.  She keeps the external historical details fairly accurate while making the events most intimate to the characters primarily fiction.  That seemed to make it somehow okay.  I was able to read the entire novel without feeling the need to flip to the back of the book or pull up google to fact-check, which is a testament to just how engrossing I found The Académie.

Dunlap's characters captured me and wouldn't let me go.  The four young women central to the plot were all very honest, believable portrayals of young ladies of their time and in their positions. They were exceptionally well developed - vibrant and vital - and capable of creating strong emotions.  Sadly, my primary emotions were dislike, disdain, and less frequently sympathy.  I think it another testament to Dunlap's talent that the latter was even possible.  Every time I would start to like a character, or think perhaps I had been too hard on them, they would do something so self-serving or cruel that I was right back at square one.  

The Académie is written in a very intimate first person style that feels almost like diary entries, and alternates perspective between three of the four main characters.  While reading their alternating views of events, I was constantly reminded of something a teacher once said, 'rarely does someone think they are the villain in their own story.'  We switch between seeing the excuses for and the effects of each girl's actions, and it is enlightening in a horrifying sort of way.  To see how cruelly something can be felt by someone, followed by what the other actually intended to happen was fascinating.  Which is why, even though I really didn't like these girls, I thoroughly enjoyed reading about them.  This pulling closer to and pushing away from each of the characters with the change of narration also gave the girls' characters added depth that I didn't at first suspect. I don't think they would feel so terrible if they were not so real.  Each time I was with a character, I sympathized with them, and could understand their actions if not condone them. (And to be truthful, Madeleine and Hortense weren't actually that bad until later in the book. I am also thankful that Dunlap never gave Caroline control of the narration - that is one head I do not want to be in.)

Overall I actually really liked The Académie, and thought it was very well done.  I will definitely read other books by Dunlap, and think she is a skilled author.  However, I do have one problem with The Académie - and it is a rather large one.  Dunlap (per her Author's Note) purposely attempted to explore 18th century racism and the issue of slavery.  She attempted to display it in all its ugliness, and then show how circumstances could change people's opinions, allowing 'shaded feelings' on the issues.  She particularly tried to show this in the character of Eliza.  While I greatly appreciate the attempt, I think she was unfortunately so successful in the first part of her aim that she utterly failed in the second.  I did not get 'shaded feelings' from Eliza.  Her behavior to the French servants early in the book was so cruel (and her thoughts about both the servants in France and the slaves at home so dismissive) that her turnabout toward African-American slaves at the end felt contrived and inauthentic to her character.  Eliza's behavior with Madeleine felt believable insofar as she had already invested in Madeleine's humanity, and could not take it back.  It has been repeatedly documented throughout history that exceptionally racist people can be adept at compartmentalizing those feelings - suspending them when confronted with a single individual they come to know while still maintaining them against a race as a whole.  Nothing ever makes me think this is not the case with Eliza and Madeleine.  (Nor does the actual life story of Eliza Monroe - as seen in a few hours of googling - ever betray hints of these conflicted feelings.)  

Perhaps it is only a product of my own privilege (that of having education and experiences which allow me to not be racist) but I find the book's implications to be both insulting and patronizing.  I strongly resent the idea that it takes being thrown into close proximity to or intimacy with an individual of another race (or sexual orientation, or sex, or gender, or (dis)ability, or religion, etc.) to recognize their humanity.  (Or, conversely, that racism, sexism, etc. arise from a lack of experience with people who are different.)  I call BS.  Over and over again we see people who were 'products' of the very same times, situations and circumstances as racist individuals who, unlike their less open-minded peers, were instead quite aware of the inherent humanity of people different from themselves.  (In counterpoint to Eliza - white, southern, and/or wealthy people who were abolitionists and members of the Underground Railroad.)  There are people out there who can recognize the basic common humanity of us all - no matter in which society, time, or income class they lived.  I think it sells humanity as a whole short to say that we must all be taught or forced to recognize this.  Yes, a person who is merely self-absorbed may be made to see that they have been unintentionally or unknowingly cruel or racist, and will then change. (Oskar Schindler as he was portrayed in Schindler's List comes to mind.)  However, people who are truly racist (sexist, homophobic, etc.) are rarely going to shed those beliefs that simply.  I willingly admit I could be wrong, and would welcome thoughts on the topic.

Review Copy Provided by Bloomsbury Children's Books

Review also appears on Goodreads

Review for 2012 Debut Author Challenge: Candlewax by C Bailey Sims

Publisher: Terabyte Press

Publication Date: April 03, 2012

Book Description: 

An Ancient Prophecy. A Powerful Relic. An Insatiable Evil. When all three converge, the fate of every living thing will be in peril. 

All her life Catherine had hoped to see a fairrier cat. No book, no scroll provided to her by her tutors had ever mentioned this legend, much to her frustration, and now-at the worse possible time-she was getting her wish. Only, in her wish the cat wasn't about to kill her. 

A 732-year-old fairrier cat the size of a horse has killed his fair share of hunters. Driven to the brink of extinction for the supernatural powers of his coat, is he indeed the last of his kind? 

Sheltered, 16-year-old Catherine is about to find out. Unwitting heir to the Ancient Onyxes, she flees an arranged marriage only to stumble upon the cat's secrets, the force of the ancient relic she wears, and the dangerous mission they must undertake. 

Hidden under a desert that was once a fertile land, millions of predators are waiting to feast again. Catherine must discover the secret of the Ancient Onyxes and stop the creatures known as trodliks before they consume everything in their path. A whispered prophecy becomes her only guide and a rejected suitor just might be the one warrior she desperately needs. 

Review:

What a refreshingly wonderful book!  When I finished reading Candlewax I was happy.  There weren't any niggling complaints about the book teasing at the happiness, nor unsatisfied expectations from an abrupt cliffhanger.  Candlewax is quite simply a tight, well-written, interesting, fun fantasy novel for young adults.  

Sims' world building is just fabulous; at once I was transported into her world, and there were no frayed edges to trip me up.  Even the most fantastic elements had been incorporated in such a way that they fit seamlessly with the others.  I completely believed in Lackanay, Cinna, and Candlewax.  Yes, there was quite a bit of exposition in the dialog at times, but it rarely felt like info-dumping.  Sims' dialog was both plausable and interesting, and the history and adventure unfolded together in a beautifully harmonious sort of way.

The characters were also just so well done!  In Catherine we have a believably flawed, beautiful, strong protagonist.  Her alternating strength and vulnerability never feel forced, and the fact that she is a girl never factors in either; they are the strengths and weaknesses of any person, not a specific sex.  (I think a young male reader could get wrapped up in her adventure just as easily as a female reader.)  Pokos is delightful in the way only a talking cat can be, and Cyril is a strong, smart, and nice hero.  He is a partner for Catherine, not just a love interest.  As I read I truly felt a part of the adventure; the relationships between the characters developed in such as way that it felt like we were all getting to know each other at the same time.  I learned to trust and like the characters just as they learned to trust and like each other. 

And what an adventure it is!  Girl running from an arranged marriage.  Girl masquerading as boy.  Servant masquerading as Princess.  Enchanted jewelry and daggers.  Enigmatic cat.  Prophesies.  Kingdoms to be saved.  Destinies to be met.  Magical beasts.  Secret rooms and hidden passages.  Traitors.  Archery contests.  Evil Kings.  Thieves.  Campfire cooking.  Everything one could possibly love about fantasy is in Candlewax  (except maybe dragons.  But you won't miss them, promise!)

The novel has a nicely plotted story arc and, even with the cliffhanger set up for the next books in the series, Candlewax has that now-rare satisfying feeling of conclusion when it ends.  I won't lie: I really wish it had a more inspiring cover, some of the made up words and names made me giggle - even when they were supposed to be menacing - and the Trodliks never became more than this in my head, but none of that really detracted from my enjoyment of the novel in any way.  Hardcore fans of fantasy may find Candlewax to be simple (but not, I think, derivative).  There is danger, sadness, loss, fear - but things never get too dark.  Therefore, I think it is an excellent introduction to the genre for younger readers while still being a good read for older teens.  Sims didn't do anything earth shattering here, but it is a good, strong, fun, readable fantasy that I would easily recommend it to any young reader who shows the slightest interest in the genre.

Thanks to Terabyte Press and NetGalley for the ARC.

Review also at Goodreads

Review: The Technologists by Matthew Pearl

Publisher: Random House

Publication Date: February 21, 2012

Book Description:

Boston, 1868. The Civil War may be over but a new war has begun, one between the past and the present, tradition and technology. On a former marshy wasteland, the daring Massachusetts Institute of Technology is rising, its mission to harness science for the benefit of all and to open the doors of opportunity to everyone of merit. But in Boston Harbor a fiery cataclysm throws commerce into chaos, as ships' instruments spin inexplicably out of control. Soon after, another mysterious catastrophe devastates the heart of the city. Is it sabotage by scientific means or Nature revolting against man's attempt to control it?
 
The shocking disasters cast a pall over M.I.T. and provoke assaults from all sides-rival Harvard, labor unions, and a sensationalistic press. With their first graduation and the very survival of their groundbreaking college now in doubt, a band of the Institute's best and brightest students secretly come together to save innocent lives and track down the truth, armed with ingenuity and their unique scientific training. 
 
Led by "charity scholar" Marcus Mansfield, a quiet Civil War veteran and one-time machinist struggling to find his footing in rarefied Boston society, the group is rounded out by irrepressible Robert Richards, the bluest of Beacon Hill bluebloods; Edwin Hoyt, class genius; and brilliant freshman Ellen Swallow, the Institute's lone, ostracized female student. Working against their small secret society, from within and without, are the arrayed forces of a stratified culture determined to resist change at all costs and a dark mastermind bent on the utter destruction of the city. 
 
Studded with suspense and soaked in the rich historical atmosphere for which its author is renowned, The Technologists is a dazzling journey into a dangerous world not so very far from our own, as the America we know today begins to shimmer into being.

Review:

The only way for me to really talk about The Technologists is to pull it apart into its different layers.  At its most basic, Pearl's The Technologists is a mystery, a thriller.  It is also a novel with a profound sense of place - not only of the where but also when.  Pearl takes his setting very seriously, and in it is entirely convincing - in fact, it is primarily in the steampunkish technology that we wander outside of historical fiction into alternative history.  Finally, The Technologists reads almost as an Ode to Science and Technology, as well as an exploration of their place and purpose in the world.  It explores the morals and ethics of innovation, the value of technology and scientific discovery, and even attempts to distill to its simplest form what science and technology really are.

It is only in that first, most basic layer of the book - they mystery/thriller - that I feel Pearl has failed.  His writing style, while beautiful and absolutely perfect for his other aims, hampers the sense of urgency he is attempting to create.  I recently read a very interesting blog post from Query Shark in which she talked about word count in sentences, and sentence count in paragraphs, as part of what increases tension in mystery/thrillers.  Pearl's writing can at best be called languid.  It is the type of prose you wallow in, not speed through.  Additionally, I get that it is a convention of the genre to introduce the reader, at a rapid rate in the first of the books, to numerous people who will be among primary characters, secondary characters, as well as mere victims of whatever disaster is imminent.  This lack of characterization is okay because it is rapid.  Unfortunately, according to my Goodreads status updates, I had read a fifth of the book before I really started getting to know the main characters of The Technologists.  I knew that the mystery would eventually unfold; I knew that the Tech boys (and girl) would eventually be my focus; I didn't particularly care.  But, here's the thing: I did care  enough to keep reading because of all the other layers that Pearl did really, really well.

As a reader, I have to attach myself to someone to continue to invest in a book.  Pearl's constant introduction of new characters left me with little other option but to attach to Boston, the city, as its own character.  (In fact, I would be quite surprised to find that it was not at least partially Pearl's intent to make Boston so present in the novel that it appeared a character.)  Likewise, Pearl's writing is at times so evocative of the mid to late 1800s, that I was surprised when I get to something 'alternative'.  Everything from sentence structure to word phrasing to chosen vocabulary firmly places the book in the 19th century, while simultaneously being approachable by the modern reader.  Pearl does this with such balance and grace that it is truly beautiful to behold.  I was shown 19th century Boston in all its full-bodied glory.  

However, where The Technologists really shines is in its handling of science and technology.  It is the story of the pioneers of science education.  This book is firmly about the time in history when MIT had to fight for its very existence in a world that  mistrusted it.  Yet, it would require an almost ostrich-like approach to current events to not realize that this is a battle still playing out today.  The thing I think I most appreciated about Pearl was his ambiguity.  His characters were not always fully formed because they were often embodiments of the different views people take in this fight.  Marcus WAS MIT, and MIT was Marcus.  Agassiz is Intelligent Design, and Intelligent Design is Agassiz.  And, in allowing each of these approaches to be embodied by a person, Pearl allows more nuance and ambiguity into the discussion.  It is easy to ask MIT to have a protectionist stance, as an institution, within the city of Boston for its own self preservation.  However, to think of Marcus sitting idly by feels morally wrong.  This duality in the characters allows the reader to see the hypocrisy in thinking something is a safe decision from an institution, but morally repugnant from an individual.   They are the same.  So often in this fight between science educators and moral objectionists, all the decisions seem to come from cold, faceless institutions; but really they are made by people with fear, hubris, conviction, excitement, etc. - people who are anything but cold or faceless.  Pearl is also perpetually defining and redefining science and technology, and the definitions rarely feel wrong.  I found myself nodding along with Agassiz at first, until his rants slowly slipped into something that, at first I only could not follow, until finally they reached something I abhor.  

The Technologist asks of us, where is the line between protecting ourselves with innovation and from innovation?  When have we gone too far? Where does religion fit into a new, more scientific world?  Where does science fit into a religious worldview?  What about ethics and morality?  Where is the moral line between theory and practice?  (For example, was it morally acceptable for these scientists to theorize about the construction of this new virus, but wrong to actually create it?  Or was it wrong to even theorize?  Or should they have been allowed to create it and publish it anyway, for the sake of learning?)  Does technology improve society or destroy it?  Are we naturally innovators, or do we defy nature by our innovation?  Were we already set apart as better than the world around us, or do we set ourselves apart by our attempts to better ourselves?  Do great minds arise because of education, or in spite of it?  There is not always a set right or wrong in these questions, but dynamic shades of grey that change as often as the faces of science and technology themselves change.  Other times there are clear rights and wrongs, and they require action - and Pearl shows that as well.  I love how deftly and beautifully Pearl deals with these issues, how he often forces the questions without providing the answers, and so I don't really care that I felt no urgency for his mystery - that wasn't really the most important question he asked anyway. 

Review Copy provide by Random House.

Review also appears on Goodreads

Other Opinions:

Thought it was an Excellent Mystery

Wasn't a Fan of the Science

Review: 13 Hangmen by Art Corriveau

Publisher: Amulet Books

Expected Publication Date: April 1, 2012

Book Description:

“Some people won’t believe any of this story. You might be one of them. But every single word is true. Tony DiMarco does catch a murderer, solve a mystery, and find a treasure—all in the first few days after he moves, unexpectedly, to 13 Hangmen’s Court in Boston. The fact that he also turns thirteen at the same time is not a coincidence.”

So begins the story of Tony and his friends—five 13-year-old boys, all of whom are living in the same house in the same attic bedroom but at different times in history! None are ghosts, all are flesh and blood, and somehow all have come together in the attic room, visible only to one another. And all are somehow linked to a murder, a mystery, and a treasure.

 Review:

Had I been forced to review 13 Hangmen after the first third of the book, it would have been terrible.  Corriveau tells the reader EVERYTHING.  Nothing is shown, nothing is left up to the reader, the characters, setting, and plot all feel stilted, and it was just boring.  The most exciting thing going on was the continuous (and often unbelievable) fight between Tony and his mom about his weight loss.  However, when it picks up it really picks up.  

Corriveau has a fascinating idea of history, and I love what he has done with it.  Through a chain of thirteen year old boys who know each other - each meeting the one before him when he is thirteen and the one after him when he is an older man - Corriveau manages to tell the ethnically and culturally rich history of the United States.  He does so in snapshots of great events while still showing that, though we mostly remember special dates, history is continuous.  We are not isolated from history but a part of it.  I won't lie, I had some serious problems with the way he mixed fact and fiction (and science and pseudoscience, for that matter) so seamlessly that they were at times indistinguishable.  But, wow, he made history exciting!  Once we got rolling on the mystery, I really couldn't wait to find out who the next boy would be or what he would contribute to the, well, history lesson, for lack of a better word.  And, much to my peace of mind, Corriveau cleans up the fact/fiction melding at the end.  (Not that I wouldn't trust middle grade readers to immediately fact check.  Ahem.)  Also, I just really wish he wouldn't have perpetuated some persistent myths.  Corriveau adds his voice to that of Longfellow in muddying Revere's place in history.  Obviously, the exciting exaggerations are a lot easier to remember - we have adults, who really ought to know better, still thinking Revere rode up and down the street ringing a bell!

There were some moments in 13 Hangmen that were really trite such as a villainous tell-all monologue a la Murder She Wrote.  By the time we got there I was really hoping for better.  Also, Sarah has violet eyes, really?  (Can we just clear this one up now?  Unless your character is albino, it is biologically impossible for her to have violet eyes.  Elizabeth Taylor didn't even have violet eyes - she had deep blue eyes that she played up with cosmetics, lighting, and wardrobe.  Okay, now we've all got this, stop with the violet eyes already!) I also felt that Angey's assistance to and subsequent friendship with Tony later in the book felt very contrived; it just didn't fit with his character, and I was shown no character growth to account for this change.  Plus, a conveniently left behind Ouija board?  Again, a plot device that kept the story moving but required suspension of disbelief on my part.  Also, the mystery itself was a little predictable - but I'm a twenty-eight year old woman who enjoys reading mysteries.  I imagine a middle grade reader new to the genre might not find these things quite as implausible, transparent, or predictable as I do.

Overall, 13 Hangmen was fun, interesting, and made me think about some things I know in a new way.  (As a student of Geography, I have learned about the rotation of ethnic groups within a neighborhood throughout generations, but I have never really thought about the neighborhood itself as a sort of time capsule as Corriveau does.)   I also love the way the boys are linked by objects that they pass on to each other.  (I do feel most connected to my grandmother-the-young-mother when wearing her apron, canning or cooking for my children.  It is a time travel of sorts that connects us - doing the same thing at the same 'time' of live with the same object.)  Corriveau was absolutely at his best when recounting history, or placing the boys within historical settings and events.  His handling of Jack as a boy and "Honey Fitz" Fitzgerald were some of the most convincing bits of writing in the book.  He manages to write about American history in a compellingly patriotic voice without finding the need to white-wash it - in any sense of the word.  He holds no punches when describing the realities that a young African American, Jewish, Italian, Irish, Hispanic, etc., etc., etc. 13 year old boy would face at different points in history; and he acknowledges the very great contributions that each of these communities made to America.  Plus, he pulls all that off without appearing nationalistic or nostalgic - a pretty impressive feat.  (Truthfully, I would really like to see Corriveau turn his hand to some non-fiction histories or biographies for middle graders.)

13 Hangmen didn't wow me, but I enjoyed it - and I think that nine or ten year old me (she who hid under her blanket with a flashlight and Nancy Drew or Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators) would have enjoyed it even more - if she made it past the first third of the book, that is.     

 ARC provided thanks to Amulet Books.

Review also appears on Goodreads