Why these stories for children always have to turn out so dreadfully is beyond me. I think if I ever tell it to my grandchildren, I will change the ending...We are allowed to do that, are we not Mabel? To invent our own endings and choose joy over sorrow?
(excerpt from the book)
It's been awhile since I've felt the need to really review a book but then it's so rare to come across a book that is so utterly enchanting and captivates you wholly. That is what I got from reading the achingly beautiful 'The Snow Child', the debut novel by Eowyn Ivey (jealous of the author's name!)
The narrative wraps itself around this fairy tale of an old couple who create a snow child in winter and she comes alive, a creature of the snowy wilderness. The book is split between the POVs of Mabel and Jack, a couple who've escaped to Alaska to start a life of their own after not being able to have children. It's a lonely and extreme existence but as surely as the snow melts, their lives are quietly transformed by the seasons, their neighbours - and a girl of the snow who lives in the mountains behind their homestead, who they alone can see after building a snow girl one night.
I couldn't get over how much the book affected me and overwhelmed me. I knew from the first page that this was going to be a keeper; it was the way the author spun the tale with sharp, simple but ever so vivid prose. After putting it down, I realised it's pretty much near perfectly weighted between the fantastical and practical, a subtle weaving of what it takes to carve a living off this harsh landscape and being taken in by the mystic elements, largely encompassed by the ethereal character of the snow child herself.
It's coming of age, it's all the bittersweet aspects of parenthood and endurance, the fleeting moments of beauty life gives us - everything I adore. Some of it reminded me of 'Princess Mononoke', the film by Hayao Miyazaki about a girl of a primal forest, raised by wolves - that whole untamed beauty of the natural world that is both more substantial and more insubstantial than the working, 'human' world.
I can only urge you to pick it up and read it yourself. You cannot be disappointed by any of it. This book has firmly and surely placed itself at the top of my 'must read' list.
I am absolutely thrilled to be writing about a Kickstarter project that contributed to some months back - which has now culminated in what you can see in the image below:
Camp Myth: Phoenix Watching is the first in a series written by the fabulous Chris Lewis Carter. I can't remember how I stumbled onto the project now but I was instantly taken with the idea (anyone who knows me even a little, will know that the word 'myth' in anything usually gets my attention somehow...!). So I knew I wanted to contribute right away - I mean it involved a story based on mythical creature teens going to camp, what's not to love? Chris kept us informed every step of the way and invited backers to be part of the collaborative process - so many were able to come up with characters, which then got beautifully illustrated in the final piece (every fantasy writer needs a good illustrator, non?). And when our rewards came, they arrived with personal notes of thanks, which always works!
Another reason why this project resonated with me so well was because of the approach - the way that something like Kickstarter can help not only get much needed funds but also create a community around the project, backers who have a vested interest in making it work and succeed. It's a great platform, validated by the fact that I know so many people who are now using it as a process also. Therefore, personally, I've keenly watched how Camp Myth has developed and have been making much needed notes, because once my novel is done, well I needs to gets it out there and get some buzz. So thanks Chris, for providing some much needed inspiration :) (Please note, Chris persisted with a second Kickstarter Project for Camp Myth with a revised approach because the original didn't meet its funding - so, with persistence and some wise re-evaluating, Chris made it work and that's admirable right there). I know this is going to send corny but there is nothing quite like the feeling of holding the shiny, paperback edition and knowing you had a part to play in bringing into fruition.
I'll finish off by saying that Camp Myth is a thoroughly enjoyable read, immediately engaging, the characters have that vivid, jump-out-of-the-page feel and I'm greatly looking forward to the next in the series. So I urge you to check out the site here and give it a go in any e-book format. You won't be disappointed. It's even getting developed into a table top game, so there's plenty more success stories to come from this (always loving a snowball effect, non? I'm keeping my fingers crossed for this getting picked up as an animated show and/or mobile game!)
Welcome to Camp Myth, the only summer camp built exclusively for young mythological creatures. Forget canoe rides and knot tying lessons – these kids are more likely to fish for a Kraken, or learn the proper way to train a Chimera!
Join Felix, a rebellious Fae forced to attend camp as punishment for his obsession with humans; Argee, the first (and only) nerdy Cyclops; and Moxie, a Kitsune who would rather smart-mouth than shape-shift. Can these three mythic outcasts survive long enough to earn a merit badge for Phoenix Watching, or will they end up as just another campfire story?
"I come home that morning, after I been fired, and stood outside my
house with my new work shoes on. The shoes my mama paid a month's worth a
light bill for. I guess that's when I understood what shame was and the
color of it too. Shame ain't black, like dirt, like I always thought it
was. Shame be the color of a new white uniform your mother ironed all
night to pay for, white without a smudge or a speck a work-dirt on it."
It's very rare that you come across something so charming that the mere thought of it makes you smile. That's the response attributed to the wonderfully written 'The Help' by Kathryn Stockett. I didn't have many expectations before reading this, as I understood the basic premise from seeing the movie trailers. I didn't expect it to be written in the speak of the South and so be full of such wonderful charisma and immediacy. I'm always envious of writers who can pen the sound and nuances of local language and dialect - and this is why books are so magical - they give you a window into a world and culture you would never have otherwise encountered.
All this and more helps to the make 'The Help' a real classic - there's plenty of laughs to be had (and you know they're good ones when you're chortling on the Tube or train), heaps of pathos and poignancy, all without any heavy handed author input - it's presented without overt exposition on the view points that could otherwise get too political and didactic. Instead, there's a subtler, more honest approach and there's enough variety in all the multiple POVs to give us a full flavour and wide berth, whilst stilling remaining intimate. It's always a tricky balance to get right, as there's the bigger arena of race relations in Mississippi and the South to represent (and on lesser scale all of the USA), as well as just these vignettes of the 'real' people in these closed off, behind doors situations.
I don't have anything negative to add - when I finished, I thought the author didn't 'wrap' up the story lines of Skeeter and her mum very well but in a way, as with the rest of the narrative, it was just right because the Civil Rights Movement was still underway and there was (and still is) a long way to go. I kind of respect the fact that things weren't polished off neatly - while there were small victories to be had, most of the revolutions came from within and as a result, the journey never really stops then, does it?
I highly recommend this book as a must read. It's definitely up there with all the best loved American classics.
'This heart we are all talking about...does it have meaning because it has this and that protein? No, it has meaning because of its context. It had meaning because of the so-called stories that surround it. It had meaning because we know - or soon will - that it came from the body of a defenseless child who was imprisoned by revolutionaries, who was denied the very things they sought to obtain for all humanity - namely: liberty, equality and fraternity - and whose immense, unspeakable suffering shame every politician, every strategist, every academic, think-tanker and policy wonk - then and now - who claims that the Revolution's idealistic ends justified its violent means.'
This book is intense and riveting. Two reasons you should take two days to read it - but like any real good book, the absorption really kicks in after you put it down and whatever you've injested is suddenly beating around the blood in your veins, for hours after. It hounds you, like the main character, Andi is (or maybe because I was on a 48 hour mung bean diet and was rather deprived of carbs and other such nutrition).
**POSSIBLE SPOILERS**
You are expertly put in her place. Her emotions are raw and on a seemingly never ending trip of pain. It's a downer, it's horrible in so many instances, built upon by the
account of the French Revolution brought alive by Alexandrine's diary, which Andi stumbles upon. The book bulges with death in all it sickness, isolation - and beauty. The parallel drawn with Dante's Inferno, the book being split into 3 parts - Hell, Purgatory and Heaven - really underlies the fabric of the narrative well. I didn't expect the book to read as it did but I was utterly entwined. The extracts from Alexandrine were wonderful, the way her own revolution comes about in us, the way it makes the reader echo Andi's hope - that the tale of the Lost Prince in the tower must be one of salvation. I wished it as fervently as her, I let my mind contemplate wild theories of who the little prince could have turned out to be.
There was a twist of sorts - it's something I thought was going to happen and then it didn't, even when the book got past the half way point, so I gave up on that. Only for it to drop me splendidly into it.
The historical painting of Paris in the eighteenth century is done very well. It's rich, it's harrowing and I myself couldn't believe such a time existed - it felt almost super-real. Perhaps because I knew precious little of the Revolution itself, I found it absolutely horrifying. I think that was the point - to make it appear like Hell.
There were moments in the book where I was irritated my the protaganist, Andi. She's betrothed to her despair and pretty devastating to everyone around her. It becomes relentless (typical stupid girl moments of thinking the guy you like has a girlfriend he didn't tell you about while he wooed you blah) but again, I believe that's the point. Even the moment where she spills the beans about her brother's death is drawn out but at least it had me turning the pages. (I have my gripe against 'the new, gorgeous, pefectly-tailored-for-me guy in my life' helping me sort out my issues but I think Alexandrine is the real person who teaches Andi what she needs to know - and feel). The message she finally gets from reading the accounts of a girl dead for 200 years comes to her loud and clear. It gets you hard in the chest as well; all that 'tiny rays of hope shining through so much bleak darkness' and such, beautifully embodied by the fireworks Alexandrine risks setting off and what they represent. I think the extended analogy of it was fascinating, how it all tied in with her brother and all the parallels. It was a like a reincarnation tale, an echo of history, the revolutions of time just keep going and going. All of this and more comes out of the book - along with some great lines of dialogues that are real home truths for humanity. Then there's music (which I know little of) and language going beyond time and society and what it means to be human versus DNA - and political ideals.
VERDICT: 8/10
PS - this is prime material for a film also and I would be excited simply to see who would play the amazing character 'G' - the character I quote above.
Staying true to the nature of this blog, I decided to read through this book as it's about to be released as a movie out in Australia. To be honest, I got interested in watching the trailer for it only because of the The Temper Trap's song, Fader.
Then the trailer caught my interest, so I ordered the book to read it - always important to read the book before the movie, what do you think?
Well, I managed to read it non stop for a whole day, so hats off to a riveting read. Also, it was refreshing to read something 'teenager' esque and being set in he 90s, it wasn't filled with the teens that whine and moan about issues etc - this was real, survival, we-have-to-get-through-this told from the point of view of Ellie - nice to see it through her eyes as well. Everyone begins to come into their own in this tale of 'coming home to find your country has been surprise invaded by unknown people and not knowing why'. It reminded me of a lot of dreams I have had.
I also wanted to read this purely to explore the relationships and tension or camaraderie that is inspired when a group of young people are in crisis (yes, call it research - all reading is research for writing in some form). My only irk (and I risk hypocrisy here) is that Ellie was rather male like in her tendencies at times, while Lee (the guy she has a thing for) appears to be more 'deep' and 'sensitive'. Oh yes, I sound thoroughly stupid now - scratch that, I like that there is a role reversal and the gals are really shown to be made of tough stuff. Points for that.
I do want to read the next one, if only to find out more about the wider story here - i.e. who are the invaders and why is this all happening anyway?
Check out the trailer to the upcoming film here. Dare I say that it looks like the Aussies are staying true they are keeping faithfully to the book's narrative (and not casting Caucasians where there should be Asians *cough* M Night Shymalan in The Last Airbender *cough*)
There is something to be said about a series that spans over ten years and the gap between each book being over a year or so. Momentum can be lost. Expectations of what can happen to plot and characters brew and ferment over time.
***SPOILER ALERT***
I am a huge fan of J.V. Jones, purely based on my reading of the first book in the series, ‘A Cavern of Black Ice’. I tend to have an affinity with ‘firsts’ of any story narrative, i.e The Fellowship of the Ring, Season 1 of Smallville, original adaptions like ‘Infernal Affairs’ etc – the list goes on. There is something immediate and the potential is always brimming. If I am ‘there’ with the characters right at the beginning, they invade my mind space and imagination for quite awhile. When they start to drag out, then I feel that sense of loss when you know your old best friend just ain’t your friend no more, you grew apart. *shrug* It happens.
With the fourth book of the series, I have mixed feelings. Heck, I’ve had mixed feelings since ‘A Fortress of Grey Ice’ came out. I have a lot to say so I will do the brief version first:
LIKED: 1. Chapters with Raina and the character of Chella Gloyal. J. V. at her best – it gave me chills, it reminded me of the awesomeness that is the clans. 2. Angus Lok and the bad-ass Phage, especially his tracking in Morning Star 3. Bram Cormac – he’s adorable. 4. Learning more about the Sull – not those mad ones that torture Raif. 5. Chapters with Vaylo Bludd – hell yes! 6. Characters actually acknowledged their connections with other characters!
DISLIKED: 1. The absence of Mace Blackhail, though this in part was made up somewhat by Yelma Scarpe. I miss his sheer villainy, it seemed odd he was just floating off somewhere in Bannen Field- 2. Raif’s plummet and the sheer violence that surrounds him and how he’s treated. Could the man still be standing after all that? 3. Ash’s storyline moving at snail’s pace – again, for the third time – is she actually going to progress at all? 4. Effie and Chedd and Clan Gray dragging out. 5. General pacing issues. 6. Repetition of many, many things and accounts that felt overcooked. 7. Loss of gravitas in character exchanges.
Ok, so the above list of dislikes sounds harsh. I admit, I am a fussy reader. I admit I have high expectations but that’s only in part due to the first book being the most amazing read ever. That’s a tough act to follow, I get it, but follow it must. In her online journal Jones says ‘The Watcher’ can stand on its own, that one needn’t read the others to appreciate it. I would like to advise against that, if I may. If you don’t read ‘A Cavern’ you are just missing out on the reason behind everything, the genesis to the bible as it were. ‘A Cavern’ is a book in its own right, I fear I cannot say the same for the others. Plus you miss out on reading about Drey Sevrance – some of the best chapters ever, you’d miss out on Raina’s amazing speech to the clansmen after the Oldwood incident, Sarga Veys (what happened to him?), you miss out on the awesomeness of major drama and superb dialogue. The other three books miss this same gripping drama. Sure there are moments that punch you in the gut, like Blackhail attacking Scarpe, Angus tracking Magdalena Crouch etc but everything happens as if moving through water. It’s too slow. There’s not the same propelling action. Even though the book is 3/5s the length of the others, it still plods desperately.
Another note, the dialogue is lacking. There is a little too much ‘telling’ in speaking exchanges, with Jones dropping in lines like ‘she understood what wasn’t being said’ (I paraphrase so it resembles little of what Jones does describe) or describing what the looks mean– I’m sure such an allusion has occurred more than a dozen times and I felt it leached the gravitas. Sorry, I adore Jones as a skilled and superior writer but there’s too much ‘mindspeak’ with the characters. I read ‘A Cavern’ when I was 14 (omg) but I’m feeling there’s too much of the same. Thoughts that characters have are repeated three times in the same paragraph and then repeated again in the next chapter where their POV is used. There’s always fascinating information to be had about each city, each place, each nook and cranny of this world and it does make the mind boggle a little. This world does breathe and have a heart beat.
One element that is always sure to be worth it is anything involving clan – Raina Blackhail, Vaylo Bludd etc. It’s brilliant, it’s legend. You know what you are going to get with Vaylo and Raina. The clans stand on their own in a way and though they have a part to play in the upcoming Endlord madness, they still operate independently. I wonder how Jones will bring all the elements together in the last book? That being said, all characters who were connected in book 1 or 2, seem to be far away from each other like a galaxy stretching out. Spatially they are far but also story wise – that there was acknowledgement of connections, i.e Ash being asked about Raif, Angus and Cant, the hint of hostages that Eye has (Drey? Yay!! Drey, hi Drey!), Mallin and Angus etc – it made something lift out of my chest because everyone has been operating in their own space and for there to be overlap, it was like the series was acknowledging its own elements for once! It went beyond characters just ‘remembering’, it gave meaning to events that folded out in book 1 and 2 – I was beginning to think some characters had forgotten those important occurrences! Also, maybe it's the environment but even those characters who are traveling with others, with other companions, there is a lack of 'closeness', with everyone holding back from one another, save Effie and Chedd of course. But everyone is frustratingly separate.
As I mentioned, Raina and Vaylo are solid. Also Angus Lok. (Jones always has kick ass names). Yet the characters I was gripped with – Raif and Ash are not the same. I don’t mean for them to ‘stay as they were’ in book 1 but I feel like they’re on the other pole now – Ash is a little bland and Raif is just so infested with bad luck and horror, it’s heart breaking. My vested interest in them has waned. It was going good for Raif’s first part, i.e. battling with acknowledging himself as wielder of Loss and Watcher, but then when he’s captured, it meant there was no choice, he was going to be broken in to it. Ok, fine that was the plot choice. The inevitability of how he would turn out was awful to read, like watching a dear one descend from you and you know you wouldn’t be able to pull them out. God, don’t I sound like I think these characters are real? I guess the series is so grave, there’s no room for you to hide from the horror and the cold and brutality. I know this is the point. Thank god for Bram Cormac, he reminds me of Raif in book 1 – potential! (see, there it is – beginning and potential, I loves that stuff :D)
Note to self –must re-read series books before reading the new one so I am up to speed with the ‘space’ the story surrounds you in. This may be the reason the review is rather harsh.
I finished reading this book a couple of weeks back and have yet to write a review of my thoughts. So here it will be.
I picked up the book courtesy of the raving compliments the panel from the TV Book Club lavished it with, otherwise it would never have been a book I would have read. The only pulling theme was the idea of sisterhood.
Needless to say, I was entranced from the first few chapters. Sarah Dunant brilliantly weaves a tapestry of the details of convent life without feeling you have necessarily slipped back in time. You appear to be immediately there, within the confined space of this place and whether this in part due to the fact that it is written in the present tense, it achieves the engaging hook.
What's more, I love a book that promises more than it lets on. As Dunant commented herself, the skeletal premise is based around whether or not the new novice to the convent, Serafina, will escape or succumb to accepting being a nun for life. Dunant never allows us to stray far from the turmoil and shocking injustice that Serafina feels at being tricked into the life of the nun; it's not thrown in our faces and the details emerge slowly with only implied hints, yet it underlines the days that roll on by as the novice comes out of her rage; it seeps through the seemingly impenetrable wall of the convent.
The highlight of the book is encompassed in the character of Sister Zuana, the dispensary mistress who unconsciously forms a bond with Serafina, whom she is charged to look after initially. The details of the various healing concoctions and methods of the time, (being 1500s Italy) are meticulously outlined with the same vigour the sister herself employs in her work. Her characters also highlights the dilemma between religion and science and consequently, the humanity that is needed to heal, versus the reserve the life of a nun requires.
The rest of the nuns are as brilliantly painted and there's a sense of madness in the more senior ones, all individual in their own bizarre natures. Despite the camaraderie shown at times, you get a sense that the place is still not inducive to the stability of mind or spirit. Essentially it's a power play that rules the comings and goings.
Lastly, the book's last hundred or so pages are simply riveting. There is a brilliant twist, (though I do not like to use this word)- rather a character defies our expectations, so much so that I was cheering at the book at various intervals. Thank god I was reading it alone otherwise I would have received rather strange looks. The ending is just as brilliant and supremely clever in a Shakespearean stroke of genius (quite literally!)
All this without missing the presence of a male character.
.