Uprooted
Naomi Novik
435 pages
Copy: ARC
Read: 4 April 2015
Spoilers: Some
Recommend to: Fans of Robin McKinley, early Neil Gaiman, and Diana Wynne Jones.
I've been trying to think of how to review this book for a while (see read date) and I can't seem to come up with a really great way to communicate my enthusiasm for this book without spoiling some of the best lines or the best parts of the plot. I'm not even going to try to sum it up: go read this wonderful book, and come back to hear what I think of it.
It was the exploration of the Deep Dark Woods idea and the Beautiful Maid in Tower thing that got me hooked in. Novik handles these over-played tropes very well, adding a unique layer of Polish-type fairy tales to it. Her bumbling heroine--who is more often dirty than not--adds a great deal of realism and charm to what could have been a two-dimensional replaying of fairy tale tropes. The differing types of magic--ones that could clash or combine into something greater--was an inspired concept. The whole arc of the story had environmental overtones, making that "evil" forest about the complexities of good and evil in the context of past atrocities. I also appreciated the female friendship that was central to the plot: Agnieszka will do anything for her best friends Kasia, including going into the Deep Dark Woods and hauling her friend back.
So good plot, interesting subtexts, great stories. One objection: the love story, especially the three sexual encounters, felt forced. They were well written, competently erotic, but dumped into the plot without grace or even a great deal of foreshadowing. Perhaps it is the trope of the story--half "instructor and student" and "beast/magician and abductee"--but I have the suspicion that someone read this, noticed it was an adult Fantasy novel, and demanded Novik add in some sex scenes. "Can't have a good fantasy without sex scenes!" I imagine someone saying. "Women don't watch porn! THIS is their sexual outlet!"
Maybe I'm just being judgmental or jaded from years of being a Fantasy reader; probably the conversation didn't go like this. But the sex scenes do feel forced to me. As the sole complaint for a high fantasy, this is comparatively minor. I will be looking forward to finding and reading more by this author.
20 August 2015
31 July 2015
Feminist books for teens from tumblr
Ombira in Shadow, Patricia A. McKillip: This complicated, layered world story appeals to me not just because it reads like a lucid dream, but because it has women in many roles and with different personalities. Women are at the center of the political machinations of the novel, both as the lowliest and the highest players.
All These Things I’ve Done, Gabrielle Zevin: Okay, sure there's a love story. But there's also a girl coming to terms with her mob family and her own potential power within it; the voice is frank, simple, but non-condescending. I got the impression that Zevin is one of the rare adults that still understands teens.
The Bone Season/Mime Order, Samantha Shannon: I feel like too few people read these amazing novels. Not only does it feature a complex system of necromatic communication and powers fighting against a trio of enemies--a tyrannic anti-magic government, a group of otherworldly beings who ritualistically kidnap and sadistically train emergent powers to fight other otherworldly beings, and each other, in the form of underground gangs. Too complex for a brief review, but be assured: Paige kicks ass and isn't only thinking about love.
The Sacred Lies of Minnow Bly, Stephanie Oakes: There's a lot of "girl-escapes-from-cult" novels out there, but the protagonists don't often start in JV, with their hands removed. Minnow tells her story with brutal clarity; while it is something of a love story, the main relationship of interest is a (platonic) one with her cell mate.
The Ruby in the Smoke (and others, not pictured), Phillip Pullman: Victorian woman can do math! and money! and *spoiler* has a baby out of wedlock! and believably does it within the time period! (I'm a Victorian studies major, that last is a huge compliment)
The Golden Compass (and others, not pictured), Phillip Pullman: Lyra Silvertongue was/is everything I aspire to be as a lady. But also! complex villains and interesting ideas about religion.
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, Susanna Clarke: Not directed at teens, but is one of the most complex pieces of world-building and subversive narrative. Doesn't feel feminist--can feel the opposite (and racist!) until you understand the complexities of her 1000 page narrative. (Pro tip: don't get the mass market copy that I have. Spring for the trade paperback because the mass market is hard to hold and the pages are hard to turn. Pro pro tip: the audiobook, read by Simon Prebble, is fantastic.)
Dealing with Dragons (and others, not pictured), Patricia C. Wrede: I still want to write female characters like this; it informed many of my stranger decisions (fencing lessons, taking Latin) and some of my more subtle ones (question authority, do not accept roles just because "that's how it's done", but there's no reason to be rude about your rebellions)
Origin, Jessica Khoury: Question the wisdom of immortality, the failures of science, and slight colonial criticism. Good intro to this kind of book.
Howl’s Moving Castle, Diana Wynne Jones: Okay, so the movie is gorgeous and interesting. Believe me: the book is better. Foremost is that you can fall in love with someone and still notice--and criticize--their imperfections.
The Time of the Ghost, Diana Wynne Jones: There's some definite autobiographical moments in this book (I mean, not truly, totally, see: GHOST): the sisters are named after Diana Wynne Jones's, for example. But what made me think of this book was the way she deals with the reality of abusive relationships.
Deerskin, Robin McKinley: AND speaking of abusive relationships. This one isn't for the faint of heart. Based on Donkeyskin, the fairy tale about a king trying to marry his own daughter, McKinley takes this one step further into actual incest and the tale of an abuse survivor. Another story that teaches about the right to grow and learn from the past.
Spindle’s End, Robin Mckinley: I didn't like this one when I first read it, but when I returned to it in my late teens, I realized that it has a lot more going on than it first looked like. Foremost: princesses getting to make choices, and friends helping friends.
Salvage, by Alexandra Duncan: You don't always have to be what you thought you were going to be; you don't always have to be what other people want you to be; the first guy you kiss, and love, doesn't have to be your last; make your own choices: all that PLUS spaceships
Not the most in-depth reviews you're going to get about these books, but the reason I put them on that list.
-Mercutia
Crossposted: tumblr
Salvage, Alexandra Duncan
24 May 2015
YA 10 second reviews: If they have to be love triangles, why can't they at least be new ones?
The Sin Eater's Daughter, Melinda Salisbury: In a medieval, low technology world, an intersection of religious traditions and political machinations surrounds a teenage avatar of a goddess who can kill with a single touch. For those who like politics with their love triangles.
Darkest Minds, Alexandra Bracken: Like Children of Men meets X-men, but less well thought-out: if all the kids in the world develop dangerous psychic powers, why isn't anyone worried about the future generations of the world? Endearingly, contains no love triangle; sadly, characters are unfleshed to the point of being mere stand-ins for people.
Rook, Sharon Cameron: In the far future, the past repeats: a re-working of The Scarlet Pimpernel that features a tough and fallible female freedom fighter in the ruins of Paris. Marvelous and daring adventures; Dickensian coincidences and many layers of disguise and connection; unfortunate tendency towards the typical characters (loyal servants, love-lorn compatriots, weak and ailing father).
13 Little Blue Envelopes, Maureen Johnson: One of the best books for teens about to travel. A teenager sent on an adventure with $1000 from her deceased aunt, learning all the things to and not to do when abroad. A satisfying ending that does not depend on a love triangle.
Dove Arising, Karen Bao: Hunger Games or Divergent, but on the moon. Mostly interesting for the multiculturalism and the fast paced adventure; characters tend to be stereotyped and the love triangle between "intriguing new guy" and "long term male friend" is beyond old.
Out of the Easy, Ruta Septys: Set in the 1950's American South, the daughter of a prostitute lives in a New Orleans brothel, but aspires to more. Despite the questionable historical accuracy (can't say for sure, but seems rather far-fetched), this story is both heart-touching and firmly placed in reality.
I Was Here, Gayle Forman: One of the crowd of teen-suicide novels, Forman's stands out with a story about the aftermath of suicide. The best friend of a victim searches to find meaning in the act and, in the process, discovers more about herself and her friend. Particularly useful to teens and comforting to parents afraid of copy-cat behavior is the author's note, which assures teens that they are not alone, and provides accurate information on places to get help.
Atlantia, Ally Condie: In a departure from her dystopian series, Condie has created an elaborate city-state under the sea. Religion as an opiate for the masses as well as complex sociological themes makes what could have been a dull repeat of teen-with-super-power-dealing-with-family-issues more interesting. Condie chose to consider why such a society would exist, showing great growth from her Matched series.
The Wrath and the Dawn, Renee Ahdieh: A fairy tale retelling not set in Western Europe at last! However, the excitement dies down when faced with wooden characterizations and unlikely motivations. Shahrzad deserves better than another staid love triangle.
Salvage, Andrea Duncan: A fantastic imagining of the future, featuring a teen who barely escapes from persecution by her space dwelling, misogynistic family. She lands first in a community existing on the trash island in the Pacific and, with the help of very different female mentors, learns to be strong and self-sufficient, finally able to chose her own path. An inspiring and thoughtful novel.
Darkest Minds, Alexandra Bracken: Like Children of Men meets X-men, but less well thought-out: if all the kids in the world develop dangerous psychic powers, why isn't anyone worried about the future generations of the world? Endearingly, contains no love triangle; sadly, characters are unfleshed to the point of being mere stand-ins for people.
Rook, Sharon Cameron: In the far future, the past repeats: a re-working of The Scarlet Pimpernel that features a tough and fallible female freedom fighter in the ruins of Paris. Marvelous and daring adventures; Dickensian coincidences and many layers of disguise and connection; unfortunate tendency towards the typical characters (loyal servants, love-lorn compatriots, weak and ailing father).
13 Little Blue Envelopes, Maureen Johnson: One of the best books for teens about to travel. A teenager sent on an adventure with $1000 from her deceased aunt, learning all the things to and not to do when abroad. A satisfying ending that does not depend on a love triangle.
Dove Arising, Karen Bao: Hunger Games or Divergent, but on the moon. Mostly interesting for the multiculturalism and the fast paced adventure; characters tend to be stereotyped and the love triangle between "intriguing new guy" and "long term male friend" is beyond old.
Out of the Easy, Ruta Septys: Set in the 1950's American South, the daughter of a prostitute lives in a New Orleans brothel, but aspires to more. Despite the questionable historical accuracy (can't say for sure, but seems rather far-fetched), this story is both heart-touching and firmly placed in reality.
I Was Here, Gayle Forman: One of the crowd of teen-suicide novels, Forman's stands out with a story about the aftermath of suicide. The best friend of a victim searches to find meaning in the act and, in the process, discovers more about herself and her friend. Particularly useful to teens and comforting to parents afraid of copy-cat behavior is the author's note, which assures teens that they are not alone, and provides accurate information on places to get help.
Atlantia, Ally Condie: In a departure from her dystopian series, Condie has created an elaborate city-state under the sea. Religion as an opiate for the masses as well as complex sociological themes makes what could have been a dull repeat of teen-with-super-power-dealing-with-family-issues more interesting. Condie chose to consider why such a society would exist, showing great growth from her Matched series.
The Wrath and the Dawn, Renee Ahdieh: A fairy tale retelling not set in Western Europe at last! However, the excitement dies down when faced with wooden characterizations and unlikely motivations. Shahrzad deserves better than another staid love triangle.
Salvage, Andrea Duncan: A fantastic imagining of the future, featuring a teen who barely escapes from persecution by her space dwelling, misogynistic family. She lands first in a community existing on the trash island in the Pacific and, with the help of very different female mentors, learns to be strong and self-sufficient, finally able to chose her own path. An inspiring and thoughtful novel.
15 May 2015
Feminist Film Series, Part 1: Jane Eyre (2011)
Film: Jane Eyre
Director: Cary Fukunaga
Running Time: 120 minutes
Copy: Netflix
Watched: May 14
Spoilers: Minimal--I mostly discuss the construction of the story, not the plot itself
Two admissions before I embark on this review: I haven't read Jane Eyre since high school (somehow I doubt The Eyre Affair counts as a proper reread), and I have never found Rochester particularly attractive. The latter is particularly important because my reluctance to swoon over Rochester means I am incredibly skeptical of this love story.
My first review of this film was a text to my best friend. I will quote it, only because it will save time:
Michael Fassbender as Rochester is a little less believable. I never for a moment fear that this particular Rochester would lose control; his temper was never quite convincing and he seems far too smart to have been trapped in a loveless marriage. (The depiction of Bertha was equally dissatisfying, for a variety of reasons. She is hardly in the film, except as a phantom noise, and the one scene that does include her is fairly overwrought and cliche. I think, perhaps, I am influenced here by Wide Sargasso Sea, which drastically changed how I conceive of Bertha.) Fassbender is, naturally, utterly British throughout the film, but he doesn't have an edge. The role requires darkness, which Fassbender doesn't quite have. (Even his android in Prometheus lacked a certain element of threat. David seemed petulant and whiny, not sinister.) I think an actor like Idris Elba or Benedict Cumberbatch (or even Daniel Craig, if we wanted to go a little older) would have worked better. That low-level, seething rage would do more to capture Rochester than any shouted speech.
Finally, I thought Judi Dench was woefully under-utilized. Her Mrs. Fairfax was stuck on the sidelines; she was never given enough time on-screen (no doubt because people thought she might steal the show--which would not have been a problem, in my mind). Honestly, seeing her in this film made me want to watch Pride & Prejudice (2005) (perhaps because the actress who plays Georgianna was in this film as well...); there she was allowed to possess as much of the film as she could, with fantastic results. (I also think that Wasikowska is a strong enough actress to hold her own against Dench--my impression is that the filmmaker was concerned that Dench might steal the whole movie from the younger actress.)
Well, so much for the casting. I'm going to shelve the costuming--honestly it was beyond glorious and in some ways I'd recommend people watch the film just to get a crash course in exquisite 19th century clothing (especially hats!). This leaves the elephant in the room: How is this as an adaptation of a classic novel?
First off, let me acknowledge that I am in no way a snob when it comes to book adaptations. I loved The Count of Monte Cristo (2002); to say that adaptation took liberties with its source material is to indulge in almost sarcastic understatement. Persuasion (1995) remains my favorite Austen adaptation, despite its deviations. I find Romeo + Juliet (1996) deeply amusing and astonishingly true to its roots. And so on. All in all, I do not mind a retelling. I say this because I do not want you to think that I found this film a dissatisfying retelling simply because I don't like change. I have a deep respect for change, and the difference between film and page.
I can't applaud this film as an adaptation of Jane Eyre simply because it does not capture any of the themes that made the book a classic. Gone is the examination of education; gone is the complicated and unusual feminism; gone is the uncomfortableness of the ending. The film concentrates on the love story (sort of? I still didn't find Rochester's affection believable--but that might just be me), and jettisons everything else. Of course, a film can only focus on so much, but I am unhappy that the actual progressive aspects had to be the parts to go. (Hence my double rating--the film only barely captures the novel, but as a love story isn't so bad.)
Overall, I'd recommend this film to anyone who likes period pieces, especially those who liked Vanity Fair (2004). The film is beautiful and the costumes are impeccable. The love story is affecting and well-executed. (Honestly, see it for the costumes, if for no other reason.) Do not watch this expecting a thorough adaptation of the book; watch it as a separate beast entirely.
Director: Cary Fukunaga
Running Time: 120 minutes
Copy: Netflix
Watched: May 14
Spoilers: Minimal--I mostly discuss the construction of the story, not the plot itself
Two admissions before I embark on this review: I haven't read Jane Eyre since high school (somehow I doubt The Eyre Affair counts as a proper reread), and I have never found Rochester particularly attractive. The latter is particularly important because my reluctance to swoon over Rochester means I am incredibly skeptical of this love story.
My first review of this film was a text to my best friend. I will quote it, only because it will save time:
It's odd, but utterly watchable. They tell the story out of order, which is jarring, but fairly effective. They cut a dramatic amount of the story, but that's to be expected. Excellent costuming, good casting, and beautiful scenery. As a book adaptation, no more than 5/10. As a standalone film, more like 7.5/10Mia Wasikowska as Jane is perhaps the finest casting I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. Her ability to simply stare at Rochester is phenomenal. She is the only actress that I've ever seen who can actually convey something with a blank stare. The make-up artists also make her exceptionally plain-looking, which I respected and enjoyed. Too often film adaptations of books refuse to follow descriptions of the characters, but this one actually refused to go the "stunning beautiful" route, and in so doing, made an exceptional Jane. I deeply appreciate the Jane of this film, even if I don't necessarily appreciate the entire film.
Michael Fassbender as Rochester is a little less believable. I never for a moment fear that this particular Rochester would lose control; his temper was never quite convincing and he seems far too smart to have been trapped in a loveless marriage. (The depiction of Bertha was equally dissatisfying, for a variety of reasons. She is hardly in the film, except as a phantom noise, and the one scene that does include her is fairly overwrought and cliche. I think, perhaps, I am influenced here by Wide Sargasso Sea, which drastically changed how I conceive of Bertha.) Fassbender is, naturally, utterly British throughout the film, but he doesn't have an edge. The role requires darkness, which Fassbender doesn't quite have. (Even his android in Prometheus lacked a certain element of threat. David seemed petulant and whiny, not sinister.) I think an actor like Idris Elba or Benedict Cumberbatch (or even Daniel Craig, if we wanted to go a little older) would have worked better. That low-level, seething rage would do more to capture Rochester than any shouted speech.
Finally, I thought Judi Dench was woefully under-utilized. Her Mrs. Fairfax was stuck on the sidelines; she was never given enough time on-screen (no doubt because people thought she might steal the show--which would not have been a problem, in my mind). Honestly, seeing her in this film made me want to watch Pride & Prejudice (2005) (perhaps because the actress who plays Georgianna was in this film as well...); there she was allowed to possess as much of the film as she could, with fantastic results. (I also think that Wasikowska is a strong enough actress to hold her own against Dench--my impression is that the filmmaker was concerned that Dench might steal the whole movie from the younger actress.)
Well, so much for the casting. I'm going to shelve the costuming--honestly it was beyond glorious and in some ways I'd recommend people watch the film just to get a crash course in exquisite 19th century clothing (especially hats!). This leaves the elephant in the room: How is this as an adaptation of a classic novel?
First off, let me acknowledge that I am in no way a snob when it comes to book adaptations. I loved The Count of Monte Cristo (2002); to say that adaptation took liberties with its source material is to indulge in almost sarcastic understatement. Persuasion (1995) remains my favorite Austen adaptation, despite its deviations. I find Romeo + Juliet (1996) deeply amusing and astonishingly true to its roots. And so on. All in all, I do not mind a retelling. I say this because I do not want you to think that I found this film a dissatisfying retelling simply because I don't like change. I have a deep respect for change, and the difference between film and page.
I can't applaud this film as an adaptation of Jane Eyre simply because it does not capture any of the themes that made the book a classic. Gone is the examination of education; gone is the complicated and unusual feminism; gone is the uncomfortableness of the ending. The film concentrates on the love story (sort of? I still didn't find Rochester's affection believable--but that might just be me), and jettisons everything else. Of course, a film can only focus on so much, but I am unhappy that the actual progressive aspects had to be the parts to go. (Hence my double rating--the film only barely captures the novel, but as a love story isn't so bad.)
Overall, I'd recommend this film to anyone who likes period pieces, especially those who liked Vanity Fair (2004). The film is beautiful and the costumes are impeccable. The love story is affecting and well-executed. (Honestly, see it for the costumes, if for no other reason.) Do not watch this expecting a thorough adaptation of the book; watch it as a separate beast entirely.
13 May 2015
The New Metal Man
The Mechanical
Ian Tregillis
440pgs
Copy: ARC
Read: 27 April 2015
Spoilers: as few as I could
Recommend to: People who like to think and like sci-fi; fans of Asimov; fans of Susanna Clarke; maybe fans of George R.R. Martin; if you liked "The Dark Tower" series
So Susanna Clarke readers and Asimov readers actually tend to be pretty different. So are "Song of Fire and Ice" and "The Dark Tower". You've got alternate history vs. robotic future and two epic fantasy series (complete with loads of sex) written in completely different styles and settings. What makes The Mechanical so interesting is that it pays homage to all of these disparate themes and styles while still remaining completely individual and distinctive.
Tregillis has created a world that differs from ours in that the Dutch became the great world power, not on the power of trade or sail, but due to their mystic creation of mechanical slaves. Created by the inclusive and terrifying Alchemist Guild, these Clakkers are controlled by the Guild and the royal family and rented out to wealthy families or for production needs. These Clakkers, despite independent thought and an underground language, are unable to rebel against the orders of their owners--indeed, any order creates an imperative pain until that order is carried out. They live hundreds of years, trapped within their own bodies.
Despite these geases, some Clakkers speak to one another of Free Will and others mysteriously develop it. The Alchemists destroy them as soon as they are discovered, throwing them into the great Forge.
Against this background, the Dutch are increasing their territory in the New World, fighting against the last stronghold of the French court. In New France, the female spymaster (the Tallyrand) Bernice, Vimcomtess is desperate to maintain their foothold in the world and to fight back against the insatiable power of the Clakker backed Dutch, while also fighting against her own court politics. On the other side, the female head of the Clakker police force and head torturer (cleverly called Tuinier--chief gardener), Anastasia Bell begins to wield a terrifying new technology that questions the very existence of any kind of Free Will at all. Jax, a lowly servitor mechanical, is thrown into this complex tangle with about the same effect as throwing in a grenade.
While the basic premise of the novel is impressive in and of itself, Tregillis handles questions of religion and freedom with ease and grace. He is thought provoking without being distracting from the excitement of the story. Tregillis also creates powerful, yet dissimilar female characters: Bernice and Anastasia are both powerful women without having their femininity stripped away. Bernice, with her mind in the gutter and mouth like sailor, understands and uses sex as a means to an end; she also makes believable mistakes that aren't "punishments" for her sexual behavior. Although Anastasia Bell is harder to read, since we are never granted a 3rd person limited view into her thoughts, she clearly uses her delicate femininity as a kind of intimidating opposition to her job. She looks like a lady: she authorizes acts that devils would find a bit much. Tregillis has joined a unique club among sci-fi/fantasy writers: authors (male and female) that are able to create believable and human characters of both genders. Lets cross our fingers he can keep it up for the sequels.
Crossposted: Life Piled on Life, Librarything
Ian Tregillis
440pgs
Copy: ARC
Read: 27 April 2015
Spoilers: as few as I could
Recommend to: People who like to think and like sci-fi; fans of Asimov; fans of Susanna Clarke; maybe fans of George R.R. Martin; if you liked "The Dark Tower" series
So Susanna Clarke readers and Asimov readers actually tend to be pretty different. So are "Song of Fire and Ice" and "The Dark Tower". You've got alternate history vs. robotic future and two epic fantasy series (complete with loads of sex) written in completely different styles and settings. What makes The Mechanical so interesting is that it pays homage to all of these disparate themes and styles while still remaining completely individual and distinctive.
Tregillis has created a world that differs from ours in that the Dutch became the great world power, not on the power of trade or sail, but due to their mystic creation of mechanical slaves. Created by the inclusive and terrifying Alchemist Guild, these Clakkers are controlled by the Guild and the royal family and rented out to wealthy families or for production needs. These Clakkers, despite independent thought and an underground language, are unable to rebel against the orders of their owners--indeed, any order creates an imperative pain until that order is carried out. They live hundreds of years, trapped within their own bodies.
Despite these geases, some Clakkers speak to one another of Free Will and others mysteriously develop it. The Alchemists destroy them as soon as they are discovered, throwing them into the great Forge.
Against this background, the Dutch are increasing their territory in the New World, fighting against the last stronghold of the French court. In New France, the female spymaster (the Tallyrand) Bernice, Vimcomtess is desperate to maintain their foothold in the world and to fight back against the insatiable power of the Clakker backed Dutch, while also fighting against her own court politics. On the other side, the female head of the Clakker police force and head torturer (cleverly called Tuinier--chief gardener), Anastasia Bell begins to wield a terrifying new technology that questions the very existence of any kind of Free Will at all. Jax, a lowly servitor mechanical, is thrown into this complex tangle with about the same effect as throwing in a grenade.
While the basic premise of the novel is impressive in and of itself, Tregillis handles questions of religion and freedom with ease and grace. He is thought provoking without being distracting from the excitement of the story. Tregillis also creates powerful, yet dissimilar female characters: Bernice and Anastasia are both powerful women without having their femininity stripped away. Bernice, with her mind in the gutter and mouth like sailor, understands and uses sex as a means to an end; she also makes believable mistakes that aren't "punishments" for her sexual behavior. Although Anastasia Bell is harder to read, since we are never granted a 3rd person limited view into her thoughts, she clearly uses her delicate femininity as a kind of intimidating opposition to her job. She looks like a lady: she authorizes acts that devils would find a bit much. Tregillis has joined a unique club among sci-fi/fantasy writers: authors (male and female) that are able to create believable and human characters of both genders. Lets cross our fingers he can keep it up for the sequels.
Crossposted: Life Piled on Life, Librarything
11 May 2015
Plants!
The Triumph of Seeds
Thor Hanson
215 pages
Copy: ARC
Read: late April (finished April 30)
Spoilers: there are seeds...and they sprout and they occasionally get eaten by animals
I read this book over the course of approximately two weeks, as I wrapped up my Masters' Thesis. I would snatch a few minutes of reading here and there (mostly at breakfast), but rarely got the chance to read large chunks all at once. I think it is a testament to the author's skill that I never became confused, never lost track of where I was, and never even contemplated putting the book down permanently. (I always find it much easier to abandon non-fiction during times of great stress than fiction. I also think this tendency contributes to my exaggerated enjoyment of essays. It's so much easier to take non-fiction in digestible pieces, rather than entire books, when the world weighs a little heavy.)
At any rate, I very much enjoyed this book. It is in the same school of science-writing as Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything (which I have read several times with great enthusiasm). However, I know this type of science-writing is not for everyone--Hanson is chatty, and relies on personal anecdotes, but his science is not always top-notch. That being said, he has done an excellent job of making botany approachable. Botany is a fascinating, albeit alien, world; it is a smart and rare author who can translate that foreignness into something tangible and understandable.
The book is divided into fourteen chapters; each one pays special attention to a different seed, or set of related seeds. Hanson chooses his seeds wisely and makes good use of each seed's unique characteristics. The downside of this organization is the sheer amount left out. I would love to have heard more about flowers; I don't think he spent nearly enough time on trees; I wish there had been some practical advice. However, for a short book, Hanson does an admirable job of summarizing the basics. Had he tried to include more information, I am sure the book would have become long, tedious, and utterly unmarketable.
Now, I will declare myself a gardener (a very, very, very amateurish one, however), which means I no doubt have a biased opinion of this book. I don't quite know what non-gardeners would think of it. I have the feeling that farmers, in particular, will find it rather light reading--if not utterly anathema to their way of life. Hanson is a dilettante (and I say that knowing full well that he received his PhD after conducting research on seeds). However, it is clear that writing is his primary concentration; science comes second; gardening (both productive and non-productive) comes a distant third. I don't say this to disparage Hanson. I say this as a way to caution you; handing this book to your botanist friend will not garner you brownie points. Handing it to your farmer friend will probably result in a fight.
So who would I recommend handing this to? Home gardeners--men and women who have little vegetable patches, and flowering window boxes, and back patios covered in well-tended green things. I don't think this book is going to convert anyone, necessarily; Hanson is preaching to a fairly well-established choir. The Triumph of Seeds would make an excellent Mothers' Day or Fathers' Day present; it'd make a good birthday present. Come wintertime, it will make an exceptional palliative for those gardeners slowly being driven insane by nasty weather. (Hand it to them along with several seed catalogs, and perhaps a new trowel, and I promise you will make a new friend.) Don't hand it to someone who hates the outdoors and refuses to garden; it will only gather dust.
Thor Hanson
215 pages
Copy: ARC
Read: late April (finished April 30)
Spoilers: there are seeds...and they sprout and they occasionally get eaten by animals
I read this book over the course of approximately two weeks, as I wrapped up my Masters' Thesis. I would snatch a few minutes of reading here and there (mostly at breakfast), but rarely got the chance to read large chunks all at once. I think it is a testament to the author's skill that I never became confused, never lost track of where I was, and never even contemplated putting the book down permanently. (I always find it much easier to abandon non-fiction during times of great stress than fiction. I also think this tendency contributes to my exaggerated enjoyment of essays. It's so much easier to take non-fiction in digestible pieces, rather than entire books, when the world weighs a little heavy.)
At any rate, I very much enjoyed this book. It is in the same school of science-writing as Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything (which I have read several times with great enthusiasm). However, I know this type of science-writing is not for everyone--Hanson is chatty, and relies on personal anecdotes, but his science is not always top-notch. That being said, he has done an excellent job of making botany approachable. Botany is a fascinating, albeit alien, world; it is a smart and rare author who can translate that foreignness into something tangible and understandable.
The book is divided into fourteen chapters; each one pays special attention to a different seed, or set of related seeds. Hanson chooses his seeds wisely and makes good use of each seed's unique characteristics. The downside of this organization is the sheer amount left out. I would love to have heard more about flowers; I don't think he spent nearly enough time on trees; I wish there had been some practical advice. However, for a short book, Hanson does an admirable job of summarizing the basics. Had he tried to include more information, I am sure the book would have become long, tedious, and utterly unmarketable.
Now, I will declare myself a gardener (a very, very, very amateurish one, however), which means I no doubt have a biased opinion of this book. I don't quite know what non-gardeners would think of it. I have the feeling that farmers, in particular, will find it rather light reading--if not utterly anathema to their way of life. Hanson is a dilettante (and I say that knowing full well that he received his PhD after conducting research on seeds). However, it is clear that writing is his primary concentration; science comes second; gardening (both productive and non-productive) comes a distant third. I don't say this to disparage Hanson. I say this as a way to caution you; handing this book to your botanist friend will not garner you brownie points. Handing it to your farmer friend will probably result in a fight.
So who would I recommend handing this to? Home gardeners--men and women who have little vegetable patches, and flowering window boxes, and back patios covered in well-tended green things. I don't think this book is going to convert anyone, necessarily; Hanson is preaching to a fairly well-established choir. The Triumph of Seeds would make an excellent Mothers' Day or Fathers' Day present; it'd make a good birthday present. Come wintertime, it will make an exceptional palliative for those gardeners slowly being driven insane by nasty weather. (Hand it to them along with several seed catalogs, and perhaps a new trowel, and I promise you will make a new friend.) Don't hand it to someone who hates the outdoors and refuses to garden; it will only gather dust.
10 May 2015
Boys apparently suffer under cults too? No way
Eden West
Pete Hautman
310 pages
Copy: Publisher review copy
Read: April 2015?
Spoilers: not many
Recommend to: Conundrum, really. I think teen boys would like it, but not sure I could convince them to buy it. Adults who like novels about cults, perhaps?
There's a surprising number of books about teenagers dealing with cults. The first I read was The Rapture of Cannan, the intended audience being somewhat of a mystery to me (I read it when I was fifteen and it worked out; reading it as an adult, it feels simply written, and about a teenager, so perhaps it was YA before YA was a thing?). Then there's tell-all memoirs about escaping cults; new semi-dystopias like Vivian Apple at the End of the World and the upcoming The Sacred Lies of Minnow Bly (reviews to come). But the shared glaring similarity: they're always told from the point of view of an oppressed female narrator, the cult standing in for a less subtle and more brutal version of the patriarchy at large. Men, especially the younger ones, tend to be weaker than the women.
Eden West breaks this mold with panache and grace. Set in the depths of Montana, a large and self-sufficient cult controls an equally large tract of land. Reaching their rumored end-times, the cult has begun to follow their religion with greater stringency, while being approached on all sides by potential threats to their mode of life. Hautman balances the warring halves of a young man's soul: the firm believer who wishes to follow his family and his community into never-ending paradise and an intelligent and curious mind provoked into deeper questioning by changes in his community and in his surroundings. While the nagging trope of a manic pixie dream girl variant is one of the catalysts that pushes him forward, Jacob, the narrator, is still a well-rounded character. He makes mistakes, makes poor choices, makes good ones, and suffers under the pull of hormones. Interlaced within the story are moments of true poetic and mystic prose: the encounters with a large wolf are particularly well written.
It is a novel worth reading, which is why it is a shame that it is not one that can be easily recommended. I believe the adults who might like it would be turned off by the YA label, while the young men who might also enjoy it would be taken-aback by the subject matter. Hautman has written an interesting and mold-breaking novel; it's a pity that it may fail to gain the attention it deserves.
-Mercutia
-Mercutia
Crossposted: Life Piled on Life, Librarything
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