Book Review: Armada by Ernest Cline
Posted on July 14, 2015 22 Comments
A review copy was provided to me by the publisher in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
Genre: Science Fiction
Series: Stand Alone
Publisher: Crown (July 14, 2015)
Author Information: Website | Twitter
Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
For fans of Ernest Cline’s Ready Player One, I don’t think there’s any other book coming out this year as highly anticipated as his second novel Armada. The new book is again a novel with pop culture references galore, but whereas Ready Player One was like a love letter to the 80s set in not-too-distant future, Armada takes place in present day with a shift in focus to all things sci-fi and gaming.
Needless to say, as an avid gamer with particular penchant towards massively multiplayer online (MMO) games, I must shamelessly confess to having a natural inclination to stories of this type; more than once, reading Armada made me wish that Eve Online and Dust 514 played like the games described in the book, or that Star Citizen was released already. And I think if you enjoyed Ready Player One, you might enjoy this one too. In many ways the two books are different, but in many ways they are similar as well — both are stories about average young men in the position to save the world, thanks to their super awesome Powers of the Geek!
We begin the story with an introduction to our protagonist Zack Lightman, worrying that he might be losing his mind. Staring outside the window during one his boring senior math classes, Zack spies a flying saucer in the sky, and not just any kind of flying saucer. The spaceship looks exactly like an enemy Glaive fighter in Armada, his favorite first-person space combat flight sim MMO. In the game, players from all over take the role of drone pilots, controlling Earth Defense Alliance ships to do battle with alien invaders. Zack’s been playing the game so much, he’s starting to think he’s hallucinating it in his real life as well.
Turns out, the good news is that Zack’s not crazy. The enemy fighter he glimpsed was as real as it could be. The bad news is, so is the Earth Defense Alliance and the war against the aliens. Governments around the world have known about this imminent attack for decades, and all the science fiction films and video games since the 70s have been preparing humanity for this very moment. Since their inception, online games like Armada and its companion ground-based first-person shooter Terra Firma have been training and honing the skills of potential recruits for the coming battle, right under everyone’s noses. As one of the highest ranked players in Armada, Zack is enlisted with other skilled gamers into the EDA’s forces.
It should have been a dream come true. In fact, the entire book reads like a wish fulfillment fantasy for any gamer who has ever wanted their favorite video game to be real, and to be the big damn hero of their own epic adventure. But still, Zack can’t shake the feeling that there’s something wrong. For example, if this real, why then are the aliens acting exactly like the way they would in his games and in all the science-fiction movies he grew up with? Zach realizes that life is imitating art when it really shouldn’t be – and it’s this concept that erodes the idea that Armada is just another version of The Last Starfighter but Ernest Cline style. Yes, the author has adapted that theme for his book, but at the same time he’s also subverted it, so that certain sections almost read like a tongue-in-cheek, satirical look at what audiences today expect to see out of an alien invasion story.
The story of Armada is thus actually quite clever, despite it being undeniably cheesy. We reach a saturation point with many of its ideas – some of which border on the totally ridiculous – that frequently call for a good deal of suspension of disbelief on the reader’s part (and not least because entrusting the fate of the entire human race to a bunch of regular civilian gamers is a dubious idea; if you even spend three minutes exposed to the general chat of any popular MMO, you can kind of infer why). And yet, the book is also undeniably fun. Simply put, the cheese works. It worked the same way it worked for a film like Galaxy Quest which parodied a lot of well-known Star Trek and sci-fi tropes, but somehow in the end still managed to function incredibly well as its own action-adventure stand alone. The result is that it’s still possible for someone not familiar with gamer culture or references to sci-fi movies like Star Wars (of which there are many) to enjoy Armada. However, writing as an addict to online gaming and all things Star Wars, I think that in many ways Armada can also be seen as lovely tribute to fans.
It does seem, though, that Ernest Cline has chosen his target audience and defined his niche, pressing the same hot buttons that brought him success with Ready Player One. He employs similar gimmicks in Armada, appealing to the reader’s sense of nostalgia while loading the book with lots of movie quotes and injecting a similar style of humor. A lot would depend on the individual reader, of course, but whether audiences will embrace this shtick again or demand something different, I think only time will tell. We’re also focusing less on general 80s this time around, so I think the appeal will also be much narrower, and it’s possible that those who really liked Ready Player One might not find the same enjoyment in Armada.
All told, my own stance is simple: if you’re just looking for a fun read, you’ll get it in spades. While the plot and characters in Armada aren’t particularly deep, the book certainly isn’t aiming to be a literary masterpiece. Instead, it goes for broke, not caring how far it goes in its quest to provide the maximum entertainment value for your time. As a result, Armada ends up being pure, unadulterated escapism. I loved the book, devouring it as soon as I got my hands on it and I sure don’t regret doing so at all. I can think of no other science fiction novel coming out this summer that would make a better beach read.
Book Review: Nightborn by Lou Anders
Posted on July 13, 2015 1 Comment
Genre: Fantasy, Children’s Lit
Series: Throne & Bones #2
Publisher: Random House for Young Children (July 14, 2015)
Author’s Info: thronesandbones.com
Wendy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars
With thanks to Random House Children’s Books for the opportunity to read an advanced copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
“The outside world was the best kind of terrifying.”
With a tasty opening line like that, I know I’m in for some fun.
Nightborn is the second book in Anders’ Thrones & Bones series. It returns us to the vast continent of Katarnia, which expands beyond the frozen north we discovered in the first book, Frostborn. It also begins by introducing us to a new race of people and the character of Desstra, a dark elf intent on fulfilling her dream of becoming a member of the deadly Underhand. Desstra is a rogue skilled in the fine arts of traps and poisons, but she lacks that killer instinct that defines the dark elves in general, and the Underhand in particular.
Soon enough, the story pops back over to Karn, the main protagonist of the series, and it quickly jumps into the adventure when Karn is summoned by the great dragon, Orm. Orm has a quest for Karn: find the Horn of Osius–because, as it turns out, the dragon-controlling instrument Orm destroyed in the first book was not the only one in existence. The other catch? Orm has already sent Thianna on this quest, but the half-giantess has disappeared.
Karn’s friendship with Thianna is what spurs his decision and remains the key motivator of the story for both Karn and Desstra, who inevitably comes in contact with the boy, since the dark elves are also hunting for the horn for their own dastardly reasons. The adventure takes us into the southern lands where we get to meet more elves, gnomes, dwarfs, and the various other creatures typical of fantasy realms, though Anders adds his own little quirks to make them all fresh and interesting. Thianna is missing for a good chunk of the book, which is disappointing, but the giantess definitely makes up for it when she finally arrives on the scene.
The sense of adventure never slows down, teetering from challenging riddles and games (this book introduces the game called Charioteers) to battles and sieges and even a manticore driven chariot race that would impress and amuse Ben-Hur.
One of my favourite things about Anders’ series is the way he interjects little bits of trivia into the story, ensuring that there’s lots of learning as well as fun for all ages. I also like that he’s not afraid to let things get a little dark, even in a kids book. Parents can determine whether or not their children are ready to handle man-eating monsters and assassins, but I’d rather have the dark mixed in with the light, than have it omitted all together. Still, Anders’ sense of humour lends just the right touch to keep things from getting too scary.
Audiobook Review: First Light by Linda Nagata
Posted on July 12, 2015 22 Comments
A review copy was provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
Genre: Science Fiction, Military
Series: Book 1 of The Red
Publisher: Audible Studios (June 30, 2015)
Author Information: Website | Twitter
Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 4 of 5 stars
Narrator: Kevin T. Collins | Length: 13 hrs 35 min
If ever you hear someone say women can’t write military science fiction, please do me a favor and smack them over the head with this book. First Light is the excellent, smart, and action-packed introduction to The Red series, originally indie-published but re-released again recently by a major publisher along with an audiobook – because it is JUST. THAT. GOOD.
Seriously, it doesn’t get more edge-of-your-seat than this near-future thriller, which seamlessly blends advanced technology and military action with political drama. In First Light, readers get to meet protagonist Lieutenant James Shelley in an explosive introduction. Stationed in a remote military outpost deep in the Sahel, Shelley and his team work round-the-clock to enforce the peace and gather intelligence in the area, aided by a cyber-framework that keeps them all wirelessly linked. But that was all before the devastating airstrike.
Shelley barely makes it out alive, saved by the mysterious power of precognition that he possesses, a phenomenon not even the top military scientists can explain. The attack, however, had cost him both his legs, forcing Shelley to agree to an experimental cybernetics program involving synthetic legs and a permanent monitoring “skullcap” implanted in his head. Very Robocop-ish stuff. While recovering, Shelley is hit with another whammy: all throughout his assignment in Sub-Saharan Africa, he and his team had been recorded for a reality TV show. The lines begin to blur for Shelley as tough questions come to the surface. What is real and what is artificial? Who or what is this voice in his head, and is it as benign as it wants him to think? Hidden forces are steering humanity towards an unknown agenda, and for whatever reason, Shelley is at the center of this storm.
There’s so much happening in this first volume, sometimes it gets hard to tease apart the threads. The story’s first act transports readers to its not-too-distant future, describing the soldiers and their state-of-the-art military tech which includes everything from combat armor to surveillance drones. Shelley and his team are hooked into the central intelligence network at all times, physiologically and mentally monitored and even altered by their gear. A process even kicks in for soldiers on the same squad which makes them regard each other as close as siblings, encouraging familial bonds of loyalty while at the same time removing distractions which might be caused by any sexual desire.
But the technology is also far from perfect. It is not uncommon for soldiers like Shelley to become “emo-junkies”, becoming overly dependent on the processes of the skullcaps they wear. You can never be sure whether or not the emotions you feel are really yours, or if they are being controlled or altered by the skullnet. This question of “what’s real vs. what’s not” is a recurring theme that pops up throughout the novel, in many different contexts. War is also introduced as something prevalent and inevitable, a powerful driving force behind the economy. Soldiers are treated like property in this world where reality TV shows can be made of their lives without them even knowing about it, while rich CEOs of big defense contractors play games of political chance using the world as their game board.
This is actually a major premise in the second half of the novel, broadening the scope of the story to tackle conflicts with more significant and far-reaching consequences. The sequence of events that make up the climax and the ending of this book had to be one of the most intense experiences I’ve ever had with an audiobook. My heart was pounding the whole time as I listened, and you probably couldn’t have convinced me to take off my headphones even if the house was on fire.
I only have a minor gripe specific to the audiobook, and it is related to the narrator. Kevin T. Collins’ performance was good, and I love his enthusiasm. But this also means he sometimes overacts, his voice bordering on frantic. Good for when we’re in those tense scenes, but very distracting when we’re not.
Nevertheless, this book has my full recommendation, especially for fans of military science fiction. It’s certainly the best of this genre that I’ve read in a good long while. First Light is engaging, intelligent, and full of thrills. It’s been getting all kinds of attention lately, and now I understand why.
Sunday Musings: Y I H8 YA
Posted on July 12, 2015 10 Comments
For me, the best kind of young adult novel is the young adult novel that doesn’t feel like a young adult novel. That is, it doesn’t have all the tropes of whiny, obnoxious teenagers whining obnoxiously about how their life sucks or pining obnoxiously over one or more romance options. Not that I’m totally against the use of tropes. They exist for a reason and, if used well, can advance a story and character development. But by “used well,” I mean writers need to not just toss in stereotypes and typical actions without any forethought or consequence, or consideration for alternative options.
When it comes to YA, I expect writers who write YA to respect what a young adult is capable of. As in, they are young adults. Not obnoxious, whining, self-centred idiots. And when the shit hits the fan, they are fully capable of taking responsibility for others and for their own actions (even if there are a few moments of selfishness here and there, because they are human, after all.) I know this because I work with secondary students and young adults and, in fact, I also used to be one. There are always bad examples within any group, but I have seen more than enough examples of great young adults. I don’t simply mean the exceptional ones. The ones you know are going to be the valedictorian or march off to a third world country to build schools. I’m talking about your plain old average young adult who is struggling to figure out their place in the world, and is full of hopes and ideas and questions that they want to share, if only people would give them the chance, instead of assuming they are just dumb teenagers, focused solely on fashion and insubordination, making heart eyes at passing hotties.
As an adult, I want to read books where young adults are written with the respect they deserve. As the young adult I once was, I appreciated books that recognized my capabilities, or at least made me feel like I could do more than I thought I could and, through the characters, encouraged me to strive for more. That’s not to say I never want to read the about the flaws inherent in teen and young adult life—tropes exist for a reason after all, and they are grounded in truth. But these flaws and more obnoxious character traits need not be the priority in storytelling.
When it comes to the bad YA by which I cast my judgment, my mind always goes back to The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan. The main character, Mary, spends much of the story lamenting her oh so horrible lot in life in the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse where the undead roam outside the fence that protects her small village. As if Mary is the only one who struggles with this when, as far as the villagers know, they are the last vestiges of not-undead humanity. But hey, Mary needs to have her way, especially when love is involved, and as a result, pretty much ends up letting the zombies in and later getting her friends deaded because this is the Mary show and she doesn’t give a shit about anything but herself and her selfish needs.
Fortunately, I have found a number of YA books that are at the opposite end of the scale to The Forest of Hands and Teeth. In fact, it’s because of these books that this post now exists. I often start the reviews for such reads with “I hate YA, but this book….” So, when my review of The Falconer by Elizabeth May ended up with three paragraphs of why I hate YA but love this book, I decided to just write this post so that I can call back to it in the future when I review YA that I love or hate. I’m so practical like that.
Sometimes YA can feel like an adult book by the nature of the characters themselves. Perhaps they have been forced to grow up too fast due to harsh circumstances in their lives. This was the case with The Falconer, where I continuously forgot the main character’s age until she mentioned it in passing. It’s not that Ailaena was written inappropriately for her age, but rather, the story didn’t get overly caught up in that being a factor in her character development. How often do you read books with adult protagonists that feel the need to constantly remind you that your hero is 32 years old?
Ailaena has to deal with the frustrations of etiquette and reputation as her father seeks a husband for her, but those issues are far more about the societal constraints she lives within, than her age. Behind the façade she presents to the aristocracy, Ailaena is actually a fae killing falconer, forged into a warrior by her thirst for vengeance in the death of her mother.
Penryn is another fire-forged character, but in the Penryn and the End of Days trilogy by Susan Ee, we learn that Penryn’s will to survive and to protect her family was burned into her long before the angels’ civil war tore the world apart. Her survival instincts come from living with a violently schizophrenic parent whom she loves dearly. Not only do I love this series for how it allows people with disabilities to shine in unique ways, but for Penryn’s fierce love for and loyalty to those people. Her moments of attraction to the perfection that is the archangel Raphael? That’s just a bonus, but it is not what drives Penryn.
Let me talk about romance for a moment. It seems like there is a stipulation that all YA must have romance.
Worse, since Twilight, it must have at least two romance options so that appropriate #TeamX memes can circulate Tumblr when the book inevitably becomes the next hot film trilogy. I am a hopeless romantic when it comes to my fantasy worlds, but that doesn’t mean I want romance shoved in my face all the time.
The kind of YA that I do not want to be a part of is the YA where the romance dominates the story. I’m looking at you, Throne of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas, which started out wonderfully, but in the second book, turned into a constant shmoochy-face fest between the main protagonist and the second man she’d fallen for in two books (because we need a threesome remember—though Maas ups the ante by offering a potential third lover for Caelana. By the third book, Heir of Fire Caelana is too busy lamenting her second love and her life in general to allow herself another.)
As my co-blogger Tiara puts it, sometimes it seems like writers actually just wanted to write a romance book, but decided to stick some other stuff in there to fill out the pages. Alternatively, it feels like writers have a great story to tell, but are pressured to shove a romance in there because that’s just what you have to do.
A good romance needs to be organic. Whatever the circumstances that bring the characters together, it needs to feel natural. And, unless you are writing a romance novel, it should never be the driving force in the story. But to take some pointers from romance novels, don’t be afraid to tease the reader. Make us want it. Make us beg for these characters to get together–even if you never let that romance happen. But don’t just shove them into kissy face mode because you can. Build the tension and give the reader some electricity crackling beneath the main plot.
The Falconer does this well, as does Maggie Stiefvater’s The Raven Cycle series. The latter opens with Blue learning through a vision that sharing a kiss with her first love will result in his death. No pressure! This ominous prophecy lurks in the shadows of the greater mystery that Blue and the Raven Boys are trying to solve. Relationships are very important in this series, but not merely the romantic one. Friendship and loyalty to that friendship is a big priority for Blue and the Raven Boys. Stiefvater’s ability to build deeper interactions elevates the story in so many ways.
It’s also important to note that the boys get just as much air time as Blue in The Raven Cycle. They are beautifully complex–something you don’t often find in the rare YA books that feature male leads. But it should also be noted that, in YA that does feature male leads, writers don’t seem to spend quite as much time having the males whine over their romance options. Or having them whine at all. Complaining about a hard life is understandable, but reading pages upon pages of it is not entertaining. The complexity of male characters often goes far deeper than who they are in love with, and even if romance is involved, that does not become the central focus of the plot. In M.L. Brennan’s Generation V, Fortitude has many issues that colour his personality and his relationships, and his romantic connections certainly are part of his struggles, but they are not his main motivation and we don’t have to spend pages upon pages reading about them.
Another YA novel that scores high on my list is Unwind by Neal Shusterman. It also features a male lead and, while Connor is not quite as complex as the Raven Boys, he is still quite believable and relatable. Unwind loses a few marks for a romance that seems a bit forced, but thankfully, it isn’t dwelt on. The major themes of abortion and survival within a very possible future are far more prevalent, and, while the teenagers in question do reveal their immaturity through occasionally impetuous and highly emotional decisions, Shusterman also allows them to show wisdom, leadership, and respect.
Okay okay, so “hate” is a strong word to use when it comes to my reading preference. I will never turn down a book just because it is YA, but I will judge it harshly if it fails to meet my stringent criteria. The ones that make it past my guard and prove themselves worthy? They have earned themselves a special place on my bookshelf.
YA Weekend: Rebel Mechanics by Shanna Swendson
Posted on July 11, 2015 10 Comments
A review copy was provided by the publisher in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
Rebel Mechanics by Shanna Swendson
Genre: Young Adult, Steampunk
Series: Book 1 of Rebel Mechanics
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (July 14, 2015)
Author Information: Website | Twitter
Mogsy’s Rating: 2.5 of 5 stars
“Magic vs. Machines” seems to be a recurring theme in my YA lately, and Shanna Swendson’s alternate history steampunk fantasy novel Rebel Mechanics is my latest venture. In it, we go back to 1888 New York City in the American colonies still under British rule. The revolutionary war never happened because the Britain have magic on their side, but the desire for independence cannot be extinguished. Instead, a new faction of rebels calling themselves the Rebel Mechanics have emerged, determined to invent machines to prove that science and technology can not only match the might of magic, they can also replace it. If the colonies are no longer dependent on the British and their Magisters, America can win her freedom.
Sixteen-year-old Verity Newton arrives in the city in the early days of the rebellion, seeking a position as a governess. Overwhelmed by the new sights and sounds, she is unexpectedly befriended by a group of young men and women from the Rebel Mechanics who notices her plight and helps her out. Verity ends up being hired by the brilliant but absent-minded Magister Lord Henry who tasks her to look after his nieces and nephew. Recognizing an opportunity to aid her Rebel Mechanics friends, Verity agrees to become a spy, gathering intelligence from Lord Henry’s household as well as the various Magister events she would be invited to. However, that was before she discovers that her employer might actually be more sympathetic to the rebels than anyone thought.
The beginning of this novel showed real promise. I loved the writing style, the time period, as well as the idea that a showdown between Magisters and Mechanics is being set up as the catalyst for this alternate world’s version of the American Revolution. But as the story progressed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing for me, something vital. Eventually, I realized what it was: I could not connect at all with any of the characters in this book.
Let’s start with Verity – an independent, ambitious and determined young woman. So far so good. Throw a dreamy green-eyed boy in her path, however, and that whole persona promptly shatters. She goes from being an interesting character to an exasperating one in the span of two seconds it takes for her to fall head over heels in lust with a Rebel Mechanic named Alec. After this, it’s “I wonder if Alec feels the same way about me?” or “Oh I do hope Alec will be at this party!” Alec this and Alec that. Verity becomes blinded to everything around her, even though as the reader, all kinds of alarm bells were ringing in my head warning me that our poor besotted protagonist might be walking into various traps. Verity is oblivious of course, because her brain stopped working as soon as Alec stepped into the picture.
It was also hard to sympathize with the Rebel Mechanics, which didn’t help. Regardless of their cause, I lost whatever respect I had for them the moment they put the lives of children at risk to forward their agenda. The scene was somewhat glossed over, but it didn’t lessen my disbelief or revulsion at the selfishness of these characters. Even Lord Henry, who was by far my favorite character in this novel, goes gallivanting off on his clandestine nightly adventures without much thought to the future of his young niece and nephew, though admittedly his situation is a lot different. But with all the deceit and trickery and dishonesty flying around, I was feeling just done with everyone in this book. Perhaps all the subterfuge was supposed to make the book more suspenseful, but it completely backfired on me.
Still, despite the issues I had with this book, it had its moments. Rebel Mechanics had a great premise and the writing was great, creating a rich atmosphere. I felt the spirit of independence in this story, and interestingly, I read most of it over the 4th of July weekend so it added to the vibe. If I hadn’t felt so aggravated by the vast majority of characters in this novel, I might be writing a completely different review, but there was still the awkward romance which ruined much of the enjoyment. For now I have doubts that I will continue with the series.
Book Review: Ink and Bone by Rachel Caine
Posted on July 10, 2015 27 Comments
Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy
Series: Book 1 of The Great Library
Publisher: NAL (July 7, 2015)
Author Information: Website | Twitter
Mogsy’s Rating: 5 of 5 stars
I spent most of the last week bouncing up and down telling everyone I know about Ink and Bone. In case I haven’t already gotten the chance to corner you with my mad ravings about this book, let me just tell you right now: this is an outstanding novel. Needless to say, it is going straight on my Favorites shelf and on my list of best books of 2015. There’s still almost half a year to go but I already know it’ll be hard one to beat. Books of this caliber don’t come along often.
Ink and Bone tells a tale of alternate history. As we all know, the invention of the printing press had an enormous impact on humanity, revolutionizing the way information is acquired, processed, and spread. But what if that never happened? Imagine a world where Johannes Gutenberg’s creation never came to light, a world where great minds like him were systematically silenced every time a new proposal for a method of printing came close to being realized. Imagine no ink plates, no moveable type, no presses – all innovations that were deemed too dangerous by an all-powerful ruling class that seeks to gather and control all knowledge, deciding who should have access to it, how and when.
Jess Brightwell lives in such a world, where the only books that exist are original works or copies painstakingly written out by hand. By law they are all property of the Great Library of Alexandria, that powerful bastion of knowledge that never succumbed to destruction in this reality. The scholars of the Library strictly govern the distribution of books to the public, using a complex alchemical process to deliver content instantly to an individual’s personal Codex or blanks. As a result, traditionally bound books have become very popular on the black market, as has the illegal trade of smuggling them into the hands of private collectors and other rare book hunters. It’s risky, but the Brightwells have prospered in this business, and Jess’ father has decided to take it to the next level by sending his son into the Library’s service, hoping that having an inside man will benefit the family in the long run.
But being a Library servant is a position of prestige, and as such, the trials used to seek out the best of the best are rigorous, brutal, and not always fair. I’ve always been fond of stories about magic schools, but Rachel Caine took the basis of that idea and made it all her own. Together with about two dozen other hopeful postulants, Jess Brightwell travels to the bright, magnificent city of Alexandria, home of the Great Library. Because knowledge is deemed paramount, training doesn’t just involve learning how to run one of the many daughter libraries present in every major city of the world; postulants are also taught to guard and protect it, keeping original works out of the public’s hands even if it means dying for the cause.
As an avid reader, I of course find it difficult to argue with the importance of knowledge. But to place its value above human lives? This should clue you in to the kind of place our protagonist has landed himself, and even with his book smuggling background, Jess is unprepared to learn about the corruption at the heart of Alexandria, or just how deep it lies.
Despite its secrets (or perhaps because of them), the dark underside of the Great Library was a wonder to explore. Imagine a world where the personal ownership of books is forbidden – what a horrifying thought. But the story also appealed to a part of me that understood all too well why some people would resist the rule of the Library, or risk their lives to own a genuine paper book for the chance to hold a hefty volume in their hands, take in the heady scent of age and ink, as well as feel the hard leather of the binding or the crispness of the pages. Ink and Bone had that addictive and intoxicating effect on the delighted bookaholic in me, and I just couldn’t get enough.
The novel is also so much more than that. I’ve never understood what a book hangover felt like until now, wishing I’m still in Jess Brightwell’s world. What Rachel Caine has created here is a rich and vibrant tableau, filled with beauty and amazing wonders but also no shortage of pain and darkness. Scenes of clean and shining Alexandria are juxtaposed by the ugliness of war in England as well as the destructive Greek Fire of the rebel Burners. The same alchemical processes that bring knowledge to the masses are also used to oppress them, keeping a watchful eye out for sedition or powering the nightmarish automatons that guard the Library from its enemies. All told, the world building is phenomenal but so is character development. Jess and his fellow postulants are part of an unforgettable cast, every one of them endearing themselves to me with their unique and individual personalities. Rare is it also to find an adult character in a YA novel as complex as Scholar Christopher Wolfe, who was not at all what I expected, and he quickly became a favorite.
Once I started reading this book, I just couldn’t stop. It has raised the bar for the YA I’ll read for the rest of the year. But it doesn’t matter whether you’re a teen or an adult. Ink and Bone is for everyone, and a must-read for all who treasure the gift of the written word. A perfect mix of breathtaking fantasy and edge-of-your-seat dystopian fiction, this is a masterfully written novel guaranteed to hook you in.
Audiobook Review: Letters to Zell by Camille Griep
Posted on July 9, 2015 7 Comments
Genre: Fantasy, Fairy Tales, Imaginative Retellings, Humor
Publisher: 47North (July 1, 2015)
Author Information: Twitter | Website
Tiara’s Rating: 3.5 of 5 stars
Goodreads | Amazon | Barnes & Noble
Narrator: Amy McFadden | Length: 9 hrs and 52 mins | Audiobook Publisher: Brilliance Audio (July 1, 2015) | Whispersync Ready: Yes
Full Disclosure: A review copy of this book and audiobook was provided to me by the publishers. I would like to thank the author and the publishers for providing me this opportunity. All opinions expressed from here forward are my own.
This story starts when Zell (Rapunzel) unexpectedly leaves her friends to move to the “boonies” (Oz) to run a unicorn farm with her husband Jason and her twins. Zell’s circle of friends consist of the prim and proper Rory (Briar Rose/Sleeping Beauty), the foul-mouthed and cynical Bianca (Snow White) and the levelheaded CeCi (Cinderella). The inhabitants of fairy tale land know that they’re supposed to live out their pages to their happily ever after. On top of that, they are aware of the “outside” world, which is where normal humans live, humans who supposedly give power to their pages through their belief, which supposedly makes it even more important that they act a certain way. Zell, Rory, and CeCi have all achieved their happily ever after, even though it seems they still long for something more. Bianca is still getting to her happily ever after and is slated to be married to a kindly prince she doesn’t love. With Zell’s sudden departure, her friends find themselves in a sudden flux as they begin to rebel against their stories and start to find themselves. This book is told through a series of letters from each woman to Zell as they go from the pain of dealing with her departure to creating a happily ever after on their own terms.
Imaginative retellings are one of my favorite types of story because I love seeing how authors reimagine old characters and old stories, and this book was on one of my recent Top Ten Tuesdays of books that I was looking forward to listening to/reading this year. This story was like a fairy tale version of Real Housewives. Zell apparently met her prince while he was roaming the woods blind and she was pregnant with twins. She restored his eyesight and they married. You don’t learn too much about Zell other than little tidbits of her story, which was disappointing. Rory is married to a prince who doesn’t care for her much. She tries to be perfect and tell herself that loves comes eventually, even though she loved someone else before marrying her prince. She’s one of those women who tries to act like everything is beautiful while inwardly falling apart. CeCi has a great relationship with her prince. They truly love one another, but she’s starting to feel they’re beginning to drift in two different directions. The things she loves to do (cooking) she has to hide from him because he said that part of her fairy tale is over and she’s no longer a servant. However, she wants to do this because she loves it, and she wants to share this love with him. And then there’s Bianca… Oh, Bianca…
Bianca was probably favorite Princess because instead of sweet Snow White sobbing in the forest with her animals friends and the dwarves…
… we get Bianca who doesn’t take anyone’s shit, who’s cynical about love and the role women play in these stories, who admits that she’s sexually attracted to women and men and gratuitously uses the word “fuck.”
Yeah, this Snow White is who we get, but with less tattoos. (But I think she’d totally get the tattoos if she thought she could get away with it.) Bianca argues: “It’s irresponsible storytelling. Love can certainly include the occasional experimental romp in handkerchiefs or a playful smack on the behind with a riding crop, but it doesn’t involve isolation and belittlement. Star is already worthy of Sabian. What does she have to reinvent herself for?” Despite Snow White’s general curmudgeonly attitude, she does have a gentle heart. While she despises what her stepmother put her through, she has no desire to exact revenge and isn’t looking forward to having to possibly execute her in her happily ever after. She doesn’t blame her father, who loves to travel, for not being around to protect her. She petitions the powers to allow Huntsman to return from exile because she believes that he did the only thing he could considering the circumstances. She has no desire to marry the prince she’s fated, too, even though she lauds his great qualities and believes him to be a great man and a good friend to her. She doesn’t want what the pages tell her is her happily ever after. She wants to create her own. They all want to create their own. They want to be the narrators of their own stories.
A few complaints I do have is that the letter writing format can be a little jarring and disjointed. Sometimes, it’s too much like being a “chaptered” story where one letters is just really a continuation of the last letter’s story. Some of the moments that were so important to the characters were glossed over in their letters. Also, certain letters can get a little tiresome, even repetitive, especially Rory’s whose letters have to continuously be a “Everything is fine” mantra, even though I understand why they’d be like that. Sometimes, this book felt like it was going into young adult territory with some of the dialogue and scenarios. I’ll also concede that sometimes it’s hard to get to the meat of their issues with the way they complain. Like wanting to write Bianca off as just a catty witch instead of seeing the woman who wants to just be and leave this vengeance thing behind. These type of things can take readers out of the story.
However, don’t think this is a serious read. While there are certainly serious themes here, this book is infused with humor. While some of it made me smile, I won’t say it was laugh out loud funny. Some of the jokes were a little corny, but the narrator, Amy McFadden, caught the varying tones of the princesses well. Rory’s voice was whimsical and dream like. CeCi’s voice was conversational and levelheaded. Bianca’s voice was tough and unladylike. She didn’t do a great job with male voices, but readers should take care to remember she’s reading these letters in the tone of the princesses, so it makes sense the male voices wouldn’t be that great. She’s creating a semblance of a male voice as the princess would. These princesses are catty, cordial, selfish, selfless–in other words they’re very flawed as any person. They complain, they whine. But if you look through their words you can see more shaping up. If stories that turn your favorite princess into less that some self-sacrificing damsel upsets you, turn away from this book. This was one of the more fun retellings I’ve read, but this absolutely won’t be for everyone. I’d rate this between 3 and 3.5 stars, but I am feeling generous because I liked some of the themes. With that being said, I’ll leave you with this quote from Snow White:
“We’re all at risk of becoming imprisoned within our own mirrors. By our expectations of ourselves. We are vain or unkempt, bitches or sycophants, mothers or monsters, queens or servants.”
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