(no subject)
Public libraries are easily my favorite use for tax money. Well, aside from the fact that tax money also pays my salary. I tend to forget about that part. Anyway. I've read some extraordinarily good debut novels in the last month or two, and thought I'd share.
Bitter Seeds by Ian Tregillis. Set in an alternate WWII-era Europe where the Nazis have superheroes and the British have sorcerors... but it's not what you're thinking. It's darker, grittier, more horrific, and MUCH more interesting. I want to say the concept's been done before, but the difference here is the way it's given a slight twist widdershins and then logically extrapolated. The characters have their fair share and more of human frailties, and they're not always likeable or even relatable, but they are fascinating and internally consistent. Intelligently written, this book'll get you thinking about when and whether the ends really do justify the means. NB: You may not want to read this book near bedtime if you're prone to nightmares. If it had fanfiction-style headers, there'd be a "trigger warning" for just about every imaginable trigger. I think it's worth it, but just be aware. It's also the first book of a series, and the next isn't yet out.
The Knife of Never Letting Go, by Patrick Ness, is listed as a "YA" book, and the central character is thirteen, but I'd recommend it for mature mid-teens and up. This book is DARK DARK DARK - dark as a black cat in a cave at midnight - and taps into a whole mess of primal fears. If I'd read it in middle school I probably would have had nightmares for weeks. That said, The Knife of Never Letting Go is a work of art and you should read it. I can't tell you too much about the plot without spoiling it, but it takes the framework of a classic science fiction coming of age story and does really fascinating things with it. How fascinating? Well, take the degree to which Lois Lowry's The Giver isn't your average children's book, and TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN. The characters are wonderful (the world is a character in itself, though not quite in the literal sense) and the protagonist is one of the best I've read in ages, YA or not. His voice is so engaging and his emotions are so believable that I don't even mind the first-person stream-of-consciousness narration. Also, there's a talking dog who is EXACTLY what a talking dog would really be like. I have to say the central plot driver doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me, and handwaving it away with "[character] is insane, it doesn't have to make sense" is unsatisfying - but maybe the next book will put it in perspective. Oh, did I mention that this is also the first book of a trilogy, and that it ends on an absolutely devastating cliffhanger? Like an idiot I only checked out the one and thought, "Well, if it's any good I'll request the others." And now I'm on tenterhooks waiting for them to come in. Aargh.
Silver Phoenix by Cindy Pon. This is more of a traditional YA book. It's not anything unique or groundbreaking, very much a classic fantasy adventure (School Library Journal compares Pon to Tamora Pierce or Robin McKinley), but it is a strong first novel and a delight to read. There are scary bits, and funny bits, and sad bits, and fluffy bits, and an ending that's satisfyingly ending-y but leaves things wide open for the sequel. The non-traditional thing about this book: It's set in unspecified-era historical China, and we get a full spectrum of Chinese demons, creatures, and deities instead of generic Western European style ones. Also it made me hungry. Not that that's difficult. The heroine likes good food and eats enthusiastically and without shame (which I LOVE), and we get deliciously vivid descriptions of what she's eating... there was a point where only the fact that it was 10 at night and the Vietnamese grocery was closed stopped me from starting up a batch of steamed buns to dunk in "soy sauce, ginger, vinegar, and chili" just like Ai Ling had.
Finder by Terri-Lynne DeFino. I'm not sure exactly what to think about this one. It's well-plotted, an engaging read with an interesting if not particularly unique setting, and I stayed up way too late finishing the book. Effectively it's two books in one, linked (sometimes a little TOO coincidentally) by the characters but separated by 18 years and a decided change in perspective. I think my favorite thing about Finder, oddly enough, is the stories it DIDN'T tell... who did Ethen meet in the belfry, and who is Myrie really? What does the third key open? What were the "adventures" Eveny mentioned? I hope we find out in later books.
However. Since the big deal that was "RaceFail '09" I've been trying to pay more attention to how authors write characters who are Other to them. Since Finder deals directly with race issues and slavery (the female protagonist, one of a dark-skinned ethnic group that's been almost totally enslaved, escapes from her "master," who hires the male protagonist to find and retrieve her), it's a Big Thing here. First, props to the author for not taking the easy way out and writing a world where the "good guys" are all color-blind and the "bad guys" are overtly racist. Ethen's unconsciousness of his own privilege is particularly well-executed - his interaction with Gitmin at the beginning of the novel made me wince and chuckle at the same time. Actually, Ethen spends most of the book being well-intentioned but patronizing and completely oblivious to less-privileged people's actual lived experience. Probably like a lot of white Americans who want to believe we live in a post-racial society. (Did I use the right vocabulary? I try, but it's convoluted.) When another character, in the course of an attempt at friendly conversation, straight-up said "Well, you all look the same to me!" I mostly just winced. And Juddah Luash (the slaveowner) isn't a one-note villain - though a few others are. Anyway, DeFino is good at writing privilege. And she's brave, to tackle the questions of whether a life of luxury as a valued possession might be more bearable than freedom and living as a fugitive in constant fear and poverty, and how someone who's spent her life as a slave can manage to be "free" in a society where all people of her race are considered chattel. What I'm not convinced of is that she's good at writing NOT-privilege. Zihariel was pretty believable as a desperate and desperately optimistic sixteen-year-old on the run, giving up her broken illusions and life of relative comfort. As an abused, humiliated, and heartbroken thirty-something, everything she does feels out-of-character because I can't figure out what in-character is for her, or figure out the emotional transformation of young-Zihariel to older-Zihariel even though we got a brief recap of events. She flips from furious to defiant to resigned to bitter to amused to wary to preternaturally understanding to disconcertingly subservient seemingly at random, and on one hand I understand that she's going through a tremendous emotional upheaval at that point in the story... on the other, it's weird to have no idea why someone acts as she does even when she's the viewpoint character. Obviously, never having been a slave or a target of racial discrimination, I can't say for certain HEY THIS IS UNREALISTIC, but the writing feels discordant to me, like the author was having just as much trouble getting into the character's head as I am.
Bitter Seeds by Ian Tregillis. Set in an alternate WWII-era Europe where the Nazis have superheroes and the British have sorcerors... but it's not what you're thinking. It's darker, grittier, more horrific, and MUCH more interesting. I want to say the concept's been done before, but the difference here is the way it's given a slight twist widdershins and then logically extrapolated. The characters have their fair share and more of human frailties, and they're not always likeable or even relatable, but they are fascinating and internally consistent. Intelligently written, this book'll get you thinking about when and whether the ends really do justify the means. NB: You may not want to read this book near bedtime if you're prone to nightmares. If it had fanfiction-style headers, there'd be a "trigger warning" for just about every imaginable trigger. I think it's worth it, but just be aware. It's also the first book of a series, and the next isn't yet out.
The Knife of Never Letting Go, by Patrick Ness, is listed as a "YA" book, and the central character is thirteen, but I'd recommend it for mature mid-teens and up. This book is DARK DARK DARK - dark as a black cat in a cave at midnight - and taps into a whole mess of primal fears. If I'd read it in middle school I probably would have had nightmares for weeks. That said, The Knife of Never Letting Go is a work of art and you should read it. I can't tell you too much about the plot without spoiling it, but it takes the framework of a classic science fiction coming of age story and does really fascinating things with it. How fascinating? Well, take the degree to which Lois Lowry's The Giver isn't your average children's book, and TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN. The characters are wonderful (the world is a character in itself, though not quite in the literal sense) and the protagonist is one of the best I've read in ages, YA or not. His voice is so engaging and his emotions are so believable that I don't even mind the first-person stream-of-consciousness narration. Also, there's a talking dog who is EXACTLY what a talking dog would really be like. I have to say the central plot driver doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me, and handwaving it away with "[character] is insane, it doesn't have to make sense" is unsatisfying - but maybe the next book will put it in perspective. Oh, did I mention that this is also the first book of a trilogy, and that it ends on an absolutely devastating cliffhanger? Like an idiot I only checked out the one and thought, "Well, if it's any good I'll request the others." And now I'm on tenterhooks waiting for them to come in. Aargh.
Silver Phoenix by Cindy Pon. This is more of a traditional YA book. It's not anything unique or groundbreaking, very much a classic fantasy adventure (School Library Journal compares Pon to Tamora Pierce or Robin McKinley), but it is a strong first novel and a delight to read. There are scary bits, and funny bits, and sad bits, and fluffy bits, and an ending that's satisfyingly ending-y but leaves things wide open for the sequel. The non-traditional thing about this book: It's set in unspecified-era historical China, and we get a full spectrum of Chinese demons, creatures, and deities instead of generic Western European style ones. Also it made me hungry. Not that that's difficult. The heroine likes good food and eats enthusiastically and without shame (which I LOVE), and we get deliciously vivid descriptions of what she's eating... there was a point where only the fact that it was 10 at night and the Vietnamese grocery was closed stopped me from starting up a batch of steamed buns to dunk in "soy sauce, ginger, vinegar, and chili" just like Ai Ling had.
Finder by Terri-Lynne DeFino. I'm not sure exactly what to think about this one. It's well-plotted, an engaging read with an interesting if not particularly unique setting, and I stayed up way too late finishing the book. Effectively it's two books in one, linked (sometimes a little TOO coincidentally) by the characters but separated by 18 years and a decided change in perspective. I think my favorite thing about Finder, oddly enough, is the stories it DIDN'T tell... who did Ethen meet in the belfry, and who is Myrie really? What does the third key open? What were the "adventures" Eveny mentioned? I hope we find out in later books.
However. Since the big deal that was "RaceFail '09" I've been trying to pay more attention to how authors write characters who are Other to them. Since Finder deals directly with race issues and slavery (the female protagonist, one of a dark-skinned ethnic group that's been almost totally enslaved, escapes from her "master," who hires the male protagonist to find and retrieve her), it's a Big Thing here. First, props to the author for not taking the easy way out and writing a world where the "good guys" are all color-blind and the "bad guys" are overtly racist. Ethen's unconsciousness of his own privilege is particularly well-executed - his interaction with Gitmin at the beginning of the novel made me wince and chuckle at the same time. Actually, Ethen spends most of the book being well-intentioned but patronizing and completely oblivious to less-privileged people's actual lived experience. Probably like a lot of white Americans who want to believe we live in a post-racial society. (Did I use the right vocabulary? I try, but it's convoluted.) When another character, in the course of an attempt at friendly conversation, straight-up said "Well, you all look the same to me!" I mostly just winced. And Juddah Luash (the slaveowner) isn't a one-note villain - though a few others are. Anyway, DeFino is good at writing privilege. And she's brave, to tackle the questions of whether a life of luxury as a valued possession might be more bearable than freedom and living as a fugitive in constant fear and poverty, and how someone who's spent her life as a slave can manage to be "free" in a society where all people of her race are considered chattel. What I'm not convinced of is that she's good at writing NOT-privilege. Zihariel was pretty believable as a desperate and desperately optimistic sixteen-year-old on the run, giving up her broken illusions and life of relative comfort. As an abused, humiliated, and heartbroken thirty-something, everything she does feels out-of-character because I can't figure out what in-character is for her, or figure out the emotional transformation of young-Zihariel to older-Zihariel even though we got a brief recap of events. She flips from furious to defiant to resigned to bitter to amused to wary to preternaturally understanding to disconcertingly subservient seemingly at random, and on one hand I understand that she's going through a tremendous emotional upheaval at that point in the story... on the other, it's weird to have no idea why someone acts as she does even when she's the viewpoint character. Obviously, never having been a slave or a target of racial discrimination, I can't say for certain HEY THIS IS UNREALISTIC, but the writing feels discordant to me, like the author was having just as much trouble getting into the character's head as I am.