The Fault In Our Stars

By page 18 of this book, my Facebook status reflected my... annoyance. It said something a long the lines of this book being an embarrassment. I don't know if I was embarrassed for the characters, and their puberty, or the author and his small feet (as evidenced by his author pic).

First off, though the author is male, the main character (Hazel) is female, and the novel is written in first person POV. Call me sexist, or something, but - while it is a creative attempt - this shouldn't really happen. No boy-man can accurately portray the thoughts of a 16 year old girl. But it's interesting to watch his attempt, I suppose. Interesting in the sort of way watching a 10 month old child try to shove a square peg into a round hole is interesting.

Second, the book is very clearly a teen book. It's written for 16 year olds. 16 year old English major wanna-be's. (Why do we keep reading about these sort of people??) Maybe 18 year olds can identify. Personally, I find it difficult not only to identify but to tolerate the teenage love issues of the characters. It makes me feel old, but I think I started to forget what it was like to be a teenager the moment I got married. Subsequently, having a child erased all pity for teenagers from me. However, it did make me a bit nostalgic. Ah, to have a crush and get those butterflies when the phone rings and the caller ID shows his name.... But I digress. The characters try too hard, in typical young-author-trying-to-portray-teenagers teenage fashion. The book reeks of wit.

The wit of this book is a double edged sword, because the writing really IS good. I can't complain. It's the story itself that falls flat, partly because of the writing. No one in real life talks as beautifully as these kids do. Especially not men. Gus, Hazels cancer survivor boyfriend, is every girls dream and something that can never happen in reality.  So if you're going to talk like that, then you better back it up with some great STUFF. Dragons and witches and myth and lore. Like in the Vampire Diaries. Not a trip to Amsterdam. Not a space filler. (Speaking of filler: even though the book is over 300 pages long, I read it in a day - which is really amazing when you have an 8 month old. Something is wrong with that. Maybe it's the fact that there are about 12 words per page.)

You see, Gus and Hazel (who also has cancer, and is in a pretty bad state at this point) travel to Amsterdam to visit Hazels favorite author. Really, though, this side plot is merely a way to get Gus and Hazel into a more romantic setting, give them an opportunity to get laid. You could cut out the one million pages with huge margins Mr. Green wasted on this trip and the story really wouldn't be affected at all. Oh, except for us to learn that it isn't Hazel that is going to die, after all, but Gus. Because this makes it so much more tragic. It's of course best for the main character to go on living. That way we can see her post-death reaction. Feel her pain. Ball like a little baby.

Yes, this book made me cry uncontrollably. I'm hormonal. What can I say. I love things that make me cry, because it makes you remember the book/movie etc. You become invested in it, somehow. And in this particular book, the wasting away of Agustus Waters, sexy, muscular hunk, is pretty graphic and heartbreaking. So, for that, the book gets an extra thumbs up.

There is a part that I thought would resonate deeply with Panda, where Hazel explains that there are two types of books: those that you love and want everyone to read and adore, and those that are so special you can't bare the thought of anyone else reading them and knowing them. Panda is this way. Harry Potter is #1 to Panda. Twilight, in our youth, was #2 to Panda. (Funny how, now that we are older and wiser, Twilight really IS #2 to Panda, if you catch my drift.) I don't feel this way about books, or about anything for that matter. The more I love something, the more I want to share it, set it free. Except for my husband, so maybe there are a few exceptions...

I haven't read anything else by John Green. I don't know anyone who has. I hadn't even heard of the fellow before this. I don't keep up with the literary world, because I do what I want, and I read what I want *pouts*. So I wasn't aware that I had to worship Mr. Green and his small feet. I still don't worship him, even if he CAN write, but I would like to read one of his other books. Thanks to this blog and its schedule I probably won't be able to any time soon. So, thanks. I hope someone is at least reading this and making it worth my time.

~Hel

First, OMG I talk about page 18 in my post too, Hel! Second, you are spot on about Twilight being #2 to me. ha ha. 

But now to my review... 

*Rubs forehead temples* *Rolls eyes* *Sighs heavily*

Now, OK, well, um…first off there’ll be SPOILERS in this post, but let’s face it. Hel and I are probably the last two people on the planet who haven’t read this novel. Practically everyone WHO CAN READ has read this book. Because it’s supposed to be like, the book of the year or something.

Since I have experienced nothing else by John Green (except his vlogs and videos), my opinion of his writing talent is based solely off of this book, The Fault in Our Stars.

And what is my opinion? It is this.

John Green is a very good writer. But he is not a good story teller.

Now, before you nerdfighters STONE ME TO DEATH, let me defend my statement. Remember, I’ve never read Looking for Alaska or A Plethora (or is it An Abundance? ) of Katherines so this opinion is based SOLELY from one book. And in said book, John’s story is poor.

Now, I know what this book means to the nerdfighter community. But since it’s made a couple of “Best Books of 2012” lists, let’s consider why it made those lists.

And if it should really be on them. 

Now, John does a fairly decent job using a girl’s POV. I’ll give him that. But his characters are unlikable because they are too likable. These characters are much too smart to be real – which they’re intended TO BE. The dialogue exchanged is so brilliant and clever that it became dull. John, I assume, intended to capture real life. But it didn’t much feel like it. This makes the characters flat – like watching cartoons. But I don’t think he meant them to come across as cartoons (Or did he?!?! – Cancer and death, the most depressing cartoon EVAH).

The first portion of the book was too quick-paced. Maybe John’s editors made him speed things up, but it made the story weaker. No one becomes instant friends like Gus and Hazel did. It was just awkward and made me roll my eyes.

I wanted their beautiful chemistry to die of cancer, if anything. 

And then, even though their relationship was rushed, it took me until page 98 to actually enjoy the plot. In fact, I would have stopped reading at about page, oh, let’s say 18 if I didn’t have to report back to this blog.  

See, John Green has a pretty famous name. It’s plastered everywhere in THE KINGDOM OF NERD-DOM. That’s what drove me to check out this book in the first place. But a story shouldn’t rest on your name alone (unless you’re J.K. Rowling and then the word “poop” on a page is the most brilliant piece ever written. No seriously. I’d pay to read that sh*t).

And can I just interject, right here, that I paid too much for this book? Even used! Honestly, people, John Green’s sold a sh*t ton of these things. You’re asking too much for them on Am@z0n. And even the new copies are still too expensive. The book may be 300 something pages, but have you SEEN the margins for this thing? This book could be read in a couple of hours. The word count alone barely makes it a novel, probably.

I know John didn’t really control things like the packaging, but I feel exploited as a reader (no wonder Barnes and Noble is tanking when they have to sell books like this. Maybe if they packaged books properly people could afford them and not be so bitter about their purchases, right? Right).

But on a positive note the points made about going to Disn3y W0rld (slash wasting your WISH on going there) made me very – and I do mean VERY – happy. Disney World (excuse me Dis3y W0rld – it’s a bad word in my book) is HELL. If there’s any message I want kids to get out of this novel, it’s this. DON’T WASTE YOUR WISH ON HELL.  

And let me just say (again) that no boy is like Augustus Waters. No boy. But now cancer boys are going to have a lot to live up to, I’m afraid, because every girl will now want a cancer boy. Every cancer boy, on first glance, will be Augustus Waters. This is not fair to them (the boys), unfortunately. Granted, it’s better than wanting a pale boy to be a vampire, I guess. (…God, I can’t believe I’m actually typing this. I’m a terrible person). But seriously. This is a romance novel for sheltered teens. Where Twilight is abstinence porn, this is cancer porn.

Now, back to page 98 (where I finally saw where the story was going). The love triangle set up has the third point represented by a dead girl. Which was interesting. Probably the most interesting part of this book. *Taps chin thoughtfully*

It was also around page 98 that I realized Hazel wasn’t going to die (that would be too obvious). But Gus would. And, yes, I was right. When they go to Amsterdam and Gus winces every time he’s touched, my guess was confirmed. And then I was disappointed in this story, because even this ‘twist’ was obvious. It had no surprise.  

And let’s talk about the Peter Van Houten character and scenes. At first, he’s just a (supposed) letter-writer and novelist to the main couple. He’s a deus ex machina (or however you spell it) and serves nothing else but to direct the plot. In fact, he’s the most unnecessary part to this WHOLE ENTIRE NOVEL. Not only are the scenes he’s in purposeless and poorly done, but his “face time” could have been cut all together.

Picture this: Hazel shares this great book she read with Gus. She tells Gus about a scene in the book set in Amsterdam that she’d love to visit – in order to feel like she’s living the book or to experience the book on another level. Whatever. The writer of said book doesn’t even need to exist. Maybe she can still want that sequel and Gus can still try to get it for her – WHATEVER. The point is, Van Houten as a character seemed forced and meaningless and any role he served could have been side-served by other characters and/or events.  

The only fathomable reason why he MIGHT have been “necessary” was so John could educate young readers that Authors of their novels are not GODS. Maybe John has felt pressured before by his audience like Hazel and Gus pressured Van Houten. Maybe he was hoping to break some kind of spell. But still, the anti-author-as-god message John *does* set up could have been tackled in a simpler way. Van Houten didn’t need to exist in the story AT ALL. In fact, it would have been more effective if he had told them to f—k off in his first letters to them. No need to have them (and therefore us) experience his awfulness face-to-face. He wasn’t really that awful. He was too poorly written to be awful. He was nothing.  

And picture this: After Gus dies, Peter could have later admitted to Hazel that his daughter had died (and therefore that’s why he’s got some sort of two-dimensional character development) through post or email. Or, his assistant could have admitted it for him just as well (again through post or email).

In my opinion, anything would have been better than what John Green did with the Van Houten sub-plot. The simple relationship between Hazel and Gus was enough. Why make it so freaking complicated by throwing Amsterdam and Van Houten in there? Even when they went to visit Anne Frank’s hideout I was so mentally fatigued as a reader. Yes, going to Amsterdam let Hazel gain a new piece of enlightenment about life and death – but COME ON. Yes, Anne Frank’s story is sad. But I only think John Green used it because it was something iconic young readers would recognize. There has GOT to be a simpler place for them to go and be enlightened and to HAVE SEX.

…And now I know why I’m angry that John got a grant from the Dutch Literature Foundation to spend time there and write (see the Acknowledgement section). No wonder Anne Frank made it into the book.  He felt obligated to force-feed us the same old World War II stuff as if it applies to everything (It might, but I can’t help but feel like he exploited his own story just because he won this grant). I mean WHY bring it all back to World War II? Not every evil is tied to Nazis. Nazis are not necessarily equal to cancer (maybe metaphorically, but I don't want to go down that road). 

And my Anne Frank/WWII tangent only backs up my beef with the Van Houten sub-plot. The Anne Frank museum was more meaningful to the story than Van Houten. Why did Hazel have to have an obsession with his book – why not just…Anne Frank? Anne Frank would have been a perfect – and SIMPLE – reason to bring them to Amsterdam. Even though it didn’t HAVE TO BE Amsterdam.

I DON’T UNDERSTAND HIS LOGIC. Oh wait, I do. Money.

It kinda makes Green seem like a sellout – even though I don’t know how much of the book depended on his grant or not. But I still think it’s ridiculous. This book isn’t about Dutch literature. It’s about cancer. It’s about life and death. Yes, I can see how poor Anne Frank ties into it all but… The knots that he tied are pretty sloppy.

A positive aspect of this book is that it’s a good introduction to “Otherness.” The otherness is non-racial and non-gendered (Hazel and Gus are not and cannot be the stereotypical teens), so I can see it breaking the ice to bigger “Otherness” issues. I also respected how this book might help me handle illness later on in my life experiences. I’ve never (thank God) had to half-live in a hospital with family members, so I had no idea.

I still cried at the end of this book. But only because I know life isn’t fair in a lot of ways – not because the story itself was moving. I definitely want most teens to read this, rather than some of the other crap that’s out there. But I don’t think I can respect anyone who blindly accepts this as some great novel or whatnot. The plot is too poor.

Usually when a book can make me cry, I say “it wins” (I’m a very heartless person, you see. It takes a writer of great skill to move me). But I don’t think the book made me cry. The book sparked memories and ideas. Those things are what made me cry.

You lose, TFIOS. You lose.

-PANDA

And P.S. My opinion of this article (mentioned by John Green himself) is this: How dare it defend TFIOS while also knocking other genres? Sure, “not all young adults crave a literary diet of wizards and vampires” but is there something wrong if they do? And do note, sometimes they crave BOTH books like Harry Potter and TFIOS. Seriously, that shouldn’t be your article's selling point. It puts me in defensive mode. I understand what this article was trying to do but let’s not forget WHY we love John Green (and will therefore read his books). He’s pretty big in the HP community too. DFTBA. 

P.P.S. Next up is "All the Pretty horses"!

The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides Book Review

I want this to be a candid response. I finished this book on 12/13/12 and started this post’s draft immediately after:

I liked this book. I disliked this book. It’s a love-hate thing. 

Because I don’t feel like Eugenides earned the right for his book to be properly analyzed, I’m not going to invest MORE TIME in summarizing it. I want to move on with my life…And my refusal to break it down should tell you something about this book.

Before I started reading, I looked up what this book was about. I found this NYT article that reviewed it, so I would know what I was getting into. And, I have to say, the article is pretty spot-on. After reading it, it sums up my feelings nicely.

But, let’s put my personal opinions about the story in here, shall we?

The first part is (pretty much) all about their graduation from Brown. I have no real graduation experience of my own (I refused to walk), so I found the scenes and character interactions about graduation foreign – not only because I find such rituals ridiculous, but because it was about a graduation from an elitist school.

The fact that they were students going to Brown made me automatically hate them. I judged them from the start. See, if you’re going to write a story about privileged kids you have to make them relatable to even the ‘lower’ classes. The three main characters were already at a disadvantage (to my good side). None of them deserved what they had. None of them.

But I know that's the wrong way to approach people/characters, so I adjusted my opinion accordingly. 

However, that still didn't help things. 

I didn’t care – didn’t give a damn – about these characters. When bad things happened to them, I. Did. Not. Care.

I had no attachment to them. Maybe that’s what Eugenides wanted. Maybe not. The fact I can’t tell what he wanted makes their existence as characters seem pointless. If I can’t formulate opinions about them based on how the author presents them, then I don’t even care. Even if they were supposed to be little a-holes that I could officially hate, then fine. At least let me be able to officially feel something about them.

The three main characters can be summed up as this:

Mitchell, the religious studies major, has a God complex (he wants to control Madeleine).

Leonard, the double major, is too smart for his own good (and his genius never amounts to anything).

Madeleine is… Even though most of the story is from her POV she’s virtually an empty character. Which may or may not have been the point.

The shifts in POV really pissed me off. I felt like J.E. shifted between them because one character’s POV (or even an omnipresent narrator for that matter) couldn’t have carried the story along. The story uses shifts (of POV, etc.) to make you forget there is no plot – to distract you.

I complained about the lack of plot to Hel early on in my reading. She said that it’s because it’s a coming of age story. Which is true. But I think Literary Fiction gets a bad rap because of books like this. I mean, take Perks of Being a Wallflower for example (right off the top of my head). That’s a coming of age story regarded as literary (in some circles. Okay, mine). And it has a plot (why is Charlie so f--ked up? SPOILERS: because his beloved aunt molested him). A good plot has twists. This book, The Marriage Plot, has no twists. It did not awe me. It did not entertain me.

Instead, it tried to cram theological, philosophical, and literary discussions down my throat. Granted, it attempted to cleverly disguise these preachings (that always read as some Socratic method poorly inserted into the story) as plot.

These ‘inserted’ didactic moments wouldn’t be so bad if Eugenides had earned the right to teach me. If he had dooped me with a plot twist or with blowing my mind then yes. Yes, I’d be willing to be instructed. His awing me would have meant I’m the stupid one – that I still had something to learn. But that didn't happen. 

...If I’m going to take the time to listen to you, Eugenides, you need to make sure you’re worth hearing. Did you think that you could ride on your own coattails because of the Virgin Suicides? Middlesex? Well guess what, I’ve not even seen so much as your film adaptation, so it’s not working for you.

*End rant*

TMP is not an important book, though it is a good book. To a point, I needed this book. I recently graduated with my BA and this book brought back a lot of old experiences. It also helped validate the ones I’m going through now. But, the thing is, there are probably better books out there to help you/me during this time in your/my life. There has to be. Granted, I can’t think of any. But this shouldn’t have been THAT book.

Now, I could delve into the irony of ‘the marriage plot’ within The Marriage Plot, but I won’t. I can’t. It’s self-explanatory. It explains itself over and over and over when in reality you can just read this paragraph and get the picture. The irony-slash-brilliance speaks for itself. J.E. thinks he’s clever. Maybe he is. But not clever enough this time.

…What else is there to say? Hm. 

Madeleine is an English major. She likes Victorian Lit but then starts to doubt its modern "goodness" when she experiments with other literature/philosophies. Which is fine. It’s good to doubt what you like. It forces you to make sure you like what you like for the right reasons. And of course Madeleine later realizes how she can still like Victorian lit – it wasn’t so ‘silly’ and ‘overdone’ after all – maybe she shouldn’t have let herself be spoon-fed at Brown (duh).

Madeleine’s character is reduced to a concept – “Victorianism” or whatever. Her entirety relies on what she’s studying at the time. She’s a blank slate compared to the boy characters.

The boy characters suffer from being manifestations of what they’re “studying” too, but I couldn’t help but get the impression that Eugenides made them said “manifestations” without being aware of it. I make this assumption only because… If he had realized it, he would have made the book much shorter – maybe a novella. His moral-of-the-story would have been much sharper and poignant if he had cut to the chase. He drags it out as if the book is going somewhere but he completely misses his own point. He tries to hit the target, but he never really shot an arrow. 

J.E. ties his story up with a bow. He put a lot of thought into the present as well. But it's one of those presents you feel obligated/pressured to accept and pretend to like. 

…All complaints aside, this book was certainly the most thought-provoking and intellectual of what we’ve read so far. lol

-Panda


Thanks, Panda, for saying everything that could possibly be said about the novel. haha. Kidding, of course. I think we really had very similar views on the novel, aside from a few key issues, and since Panda did such a great job flushing out meat and bones of the novel, I will mainly spend my time addressing the points where we disagree.

For starters, the marriage plot itself. Panda didn't get into what it means for the characters, but telling would be a big plot spoiler, so I approve. The important thing to know is that we disagree. We disagree about how the marriage plot applies to characters. I think this is a  really big deal. You would think the finale would be straight forward. The book wasn't a mystery, or some weird abstract movie that you can't really follow where at the end you are left asking, "What just happened?". The fact that we disagree makes the plot even harder to pin point. I would say two people being able to take away two completely things from a novel is good. It makes it versatile  But I am not sure that is what's happening in this case.

Another thing that I have to disagree with is the POV shift. I love when stories are told from different angles. Maybe because I always want to know what is motivating someone else, what really happened from their point of view. I think Leonard would not be a likeable character without seeing the story from his point of view. He would just be the crazy guy that treats his girlfriend like crap. But that's not really all there is to him.

I do whole heartedly agree that Med's character is a waste of paper. There is nothing to her. I don't think the same is true for the boys, but that doesn't mean I like them. Leonard is not defined by what he is studying. He is a science major, so he works in the field, yes, but there are things that loom larger than that - his issues with his parents, his disease, his obsession with Mad. Mitchell, on the other hand..... the more I think about him, the more I hate him. Perhaps because I had such high expectations of him. He's a religious studies major, but he's not really a religious person. It's more like God, or whatever might be out there, has this fascination for him. He does undergo a transformation throughout the book, but it is not well executed. I expected the highlight of the novel to be the trip Mitchel takes to Europe/India post graduation. But nothing that really related to the rest of the novel and it's "plot" REALLY happens there. Yes, Mitchell evolves as a character, but it doesn't matter because it doesn't effect Mad or the marriage plot in any significant way. His segment was a waste of space and a disappointment. But, if it has been left out, the book really WOULD be a novella.

In agreement with Panda, I have to say - I hated all the English major talk. It made it very difficult for me to get through, because it wasn't presented in a way that non-English majors could follow. It made the book seem elitist to me (and boring). In contrast, I did like the science portions. Eugenides actually seemed to know what he was talking about, without the Hollywood spin on it that generally makes science portions of books and TV/Movies unbelievable.

In general, I admire Eugenides's writing style. It works well for his genre, whatever that may be. But, I would not call it "A great romance in the Austen tradition" as the USA Today did. Bah!

Hel

Deerskin

Okay, I know this “November” post is technically in December, but we *did* finish the book in November, so I don’t feel too bad about it being one day late (really, it’s my fault it was so late. Hel made a draft a long time ago but I’m just now getting around to finishing mine – so sorry!). But to the reviews! – Panda  

My brain is mush lately, so I am writing this in a sort of dazed, out of body state. Be warned.

I really liked this book, in general. I would really like to know the original fairy tale it was based on (called Donkeyskin), to see what the differences were. I kept wondering how much of the story has changed. I think that hindered my enjoyment of the book somewhat.

Though there were many things I liked, a few major things really bugged me. For one, at times the writing was really dense. A big glob of run on’s. This was mostly the case whenever the author wanted to create a dream-like scenario, described Lissar’s (aka Deerskin’s) depression, or other emotive situations. You could definitely tell that it was an adaptation from a fairy tale, because it had the aura of one. It made the whole thing somewhat annoying.

Another big issue I had with it was the length of the story, mainly because of the fact that it was written like a fairy tale. It’s not a long book, but it felt endless. The story seemed to go on and on, even though not all that much happened. It’s difficult to explain without giving too much away, but let me just say that there were large leaps and changes, filled in with the endless run on’s. It kind of felt like a Lord of the Rings marathon.

           

        That being said, the positives outweighed the negatives for me. The writing was beautiful, even if I did have to skip some parts. The excitement and wanting to know what was going to happen next even kept me away from Facebook and awake late into the night, reading. This doesn’t often happen to me anymore, because sleep is so rare and valuable with a baby. The book/story line was very versatile, offering violence, romance, and everything in between. The two main characters were big dog lovers, and I really liked that. It made me want a nice, sane, clean, soft, loyal dog for my son that he could grow up with and have such a strong bond with (I have issues with our dog, if you couldn’t tell).

McKinley did a great job of developing the characters, in my opinion. When we first meet Princess Lissar, she is shy, meek and naïve. At the end of the book, she is self-reliant, strong, and independent almost to a fault. Though they are first introduced as – seemingly – heroes, and their country loves them, the King and Queen are both surprisingly awful people, at least in relation to their daughter. .  

I’m still unsure about one point: the ending. I can’t tell if I liked it or not. It did leave me wanting for me, because it wasn’t a happy or a sad ending. Perhaps that is fitting for Lissar. Since the book is about her evolution from timid Princess, to shattered person, to strong, independent, goddess-like woman it would make sense that she cannot hand her fate over to a man. However, I did expect more from a fairy tale. Perhaps Disney has ruined things for us.

Overall, I give this book an 8.5 out of 10 and would definitely recommend it.

~Hel

I would recommend this book to practically everyone.  

BUT, because I would recommend it, that’s part of my problem with it. (Not trying to sound like a hipster here, but) Deerskin didn’t hit me very personally, and so that’s why I’d be willing to share it with others.

If I had to give this book a grade, it would be a B+. I want to give it an A-, but I think that maybe if it weren’t based off of a fairy tale (someone else’s story) I would be more inclined to give it a higher grade.

Now, to break it down: The Author’s Note tells you what you need to know before reading. I looked up Donkeyskin (which I had never heard of before until this book) on Wikipedia before starting. I still don’t feel like I know enough about Donkeyskin to properly compare it to Deerskin, but I’m excited to find out more (I’ll be keeping my eyes open for this story from now on. Or, if you know more about it, feel free to comment on this post and educate me, son!).

In a time where fairy tales are taking over our mainstream (think of the new Beauty and the Beast and Once Upon a Time TV shows), it’s nice to see a book written that doesn’t focus on an over-done fairy tale.

Now, the book is split into three parts, so I’ll go over each one:

Part one: Now, this book was copyrighted in 1993, so I let a lot of today’s clichés slide. From the onset, you know this is an “adult” book. It’s not your child’s fairy tale. Lissar is the main character. She’s a princess. Lissar’s parents’ relationship made me want to throw up, because they (the king and queen) were so obsessed with each other. They are pure manifestations of vanity, as far as I can tell. As the Queen lay dying, she has a portrait painted of her for the king to always remember her by. The part about the painter goes on and on and on. But every time you get frustrated, Robin McKinley draws you back in with a new concept of her world to read about. Every side character is treated fairly. Even the painter has a personality that adds to the imagery. This whole story is imagery. There is hardly any dialogue (which usually would upset me). Sometimes you even forget about Lissar because of the fanciful world before you – just as her parents and her kingdom did. The kingdom described is so beautiful – a representation of sins, perhaps. The kingdom is so fragile that when the queen dies, it never recovers – because beauty is shallow.

Much of the writing style reminded me of Ursula K. LeGuin’s – but more delicate and feminine. I certainly liked this story more than most of Ursula’s stories (no offense, gurl, you a ground-breaker).

As I said before, Lissar (though our protagonist) is overlooked through most of part one – until she is given a dog from a prince in another land. The puppy’s name is Ash and Lissar starts to have feelings and take on purpose. Even her ‘friends’ have to use the dog to interact with Lissar.

Now, at this point, the “fairy tale” struck me as odd because in most fairy tales the father is the good guy and the mother (or step-mother) is normally evil. But it is clear that while Lissar’s mother most represented vanity, her father represented lust. When he announces he will marry his own daughter, the kingdom blames Lissar – not the mad king for this horrific statement. This is much like in our own culture when a girl is raped and someone says “what was she wearing?” People pin the blame on the female who could have “avoided” such a terrible situation.

When Ash threatens the king in order to protect Lissar, the king declares Ash will have to die. This was when I started to find things melodramatic. When the king finally rapes Lissar (as this was obviously going to happen – the buildup was obvious), I almost lost interest in the book. This part felt like it was out of character for the king – especially since Lissar is hurt so badly afterwards. Yes, I know Ash attacks him at one point and this makes him angrier but… I’m not even sure he would bother to rape her. Yes, he was obsessed with her, but the rape scene seemed weak and only served the purpose of creating a reason for Lissar to run away. He could have merely tried to rape her but Lissar could have gotten away. The fact the king wanted to marry her would have been reason enough to run away. However, maybe this has something to do with the Donkeyskin fairy tale that I just don’t know about.

Part two: When the king hurt Ash to get to Lissar, I thought Ash was dead. For sure. But she’s not. (Robin does this a lot with the animals in this story – you think something bad is going to happen to them, but it never really does).

However, where part one was weak, it gets better. Way better. Of course, you have to suffer the after effects of the rape (it is very drawn out). Lissar finds a vacant cabin and lives there for a time. They hunt, but not with bows and arrows. Ash attacks vermin and Lissar kills things with stones. I really liked this point about the hunting. Arrows are so cliché (thanks to The Hunger Games and Legolas) – and her hunting technique made Lissar seem so much more animalistic herself.

Magical elements like dragons are gently tossed into the story to remind you this is a fairy tale. Some scenes in part 2 I really felt like skimming, but the plot was starting to develop so I kept at it.  

Lissar meets Lilac – a girl who talks a lot and works with horses (even though she’s the daughter of someone rich-ish and doesn’t need to work or something like that).

Lissar, in this part, finally calls herself Deerskin. At this point we’re supposed to figure out that she’s suppressed her memory of her former self, but that point is not as obvious as I would have liked – maybe because it was based on the foundation of the rape scene (which I thought was weak).

She makes her way to the yellow city – the kingdom of the prince who gave her Ash (though she does not remember this). And now she has white hair and has gone through a (long story short) physical and spiritual transformation. The prince, Ossin, gives her a job taking care of puppies whose mother died the night before.

Now, Ossin (obviously) becomes the love interest. It is a love story done gently and I felt it made up for other parts that lacked strength in the beginning (like the rape scene). The villagers start to call her Moonwoman – after a folk legend they have.

The fairy tale/story becomes very meta when it talks about other fairy tales and such – which I liked.

When the prince takes Lissar in the portrait room and shows her the portrait of herself (that he had been sent), he is still too stupid (and so is she) to put things together. Ash is in the portrait also, and he even remembers what he named Ash. Granted, I can forgive it because Lissar looks so different (she didn’t always have white hair) and I also think that Ash’s coat grew curly at one point, which none of his other dogs had done.

When Ossin asks her to (eventually) marry him, she refuses. This part seemed silly to me and drew the story out for too long. She runs away with her dogs back to the cabin. At one point Ash gets hurt when the dogs try to take down a…I’m not even sure what it was, but it had horns. You think that Ash is going to die this time, but she never does. In fact (spoilers) no one ever dies. This is part of my beef with the story. It was too happy-ever-after.

Part three: Robin McKinley tries to give the story a twist when Lissar makes her way back to civilization and finds out there is a wedding going on. She thinks it is Ossin’s wedding (but even I knew it wasn’t – it just didn’t feel right). It’s her father about to marry Ossin’s sister. This seems out of character for himself also. He was so obsessed with Lissar that he was willing to marry her, but now he’s willing to betray his old wife’s wishes entirely (that he not marry anyone else unless she’s as beautiful as she was). Granted, yes, he does need an heir now, because everyone thinks Lissar is dead. But I feel like this point could have been drawn out more and the rape after-math scenes could have been cut from the story. The ending was wrapped up too quickly – Lissar exposes her father and she agrees to stay with Ossin (for as long as she feels like it). End of story.

Some final thoughts/points:

I really liked how this fairy tale broke binaries. Lissar didn’t need Ossin. They simply wanted each other. He did not complete her. The climax describes Lissar as both black and white – she needed no Yin to her Yang (or whatever).* It’s a very feminist piece of literature.

I did not like how – sometimes – the prince and Lissar thought/talked about breeding puppies. Yes, their dogs are good dogs with good personalities, but a lot of it is training too. I think this could give dumber readers the idea that breeding is best. Mutts for the win!!! (However, I really loved Ash. I love big dogs. And the way Robin describes Ash makes her the main character, really, in my opinion. Robin captures dogs so splendidly – it made me miss my own childhood dog so much that I found myself crying).

*This is a Taoist twist, in my opinion. This point made Robin’s themes seem much like LeGuins’s – as well as the oral tradition concepts woven into the story (such as when Lissar names the puppies and the names are, to her, a charm to help them live – live long enough to claim their names). These points and more reminded me extremely of Ursula K. LeGuin – but I liked how Robin was not as didactic as Ursula can be on these ideas. Though, Ursula was the first to incorporate them into sf.

The next book we're reading (for Decemeber) is The Marriage Plot by Jeffery Eugenides.   Read along with us!   

-Amanda Panda

Punishment Post - The White Tiger and Where We Belong

As you all have probably noticed, Hel and I have FAILED in our one-book-a-month goal. While we couldn’t finish up on October, we will still try and stick to the plan for the rest of the year – but maybe with fewer posts (Deja Dead’s posts took a lot out of us).

Also, to make up for the fact we’ve failed, we’ve decided to review a book we’ve previously read (and that wasn’t on our lists). These punishment-posts will prove we’re serious about book-talk and such…

Now – over a week into November – I’ve finally chosen the book I want to review to make up for October.

I’ll try and do my best at remembering all of this book – but I read it about six months ago. However, I don’t want to spend a lot of time trying to recall everything – and no, I’m not being lazy. I just want to prove how important this book was to me through a raw account. What sticks to memory is usually the important stuff anyway… The rest you can just look up on Wikipedia (that’s what it’s for!).  

So.

In light of the Life of Pi film adaptation coming out, I wanted to highlight a book that talks about Indian religion, culture, etc. as well. Also, it involves a tiger too.

In fact it’s called The White Tiger. It’s by Aravind Adiga. It was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize. And, more importantly, it’s good.

However! Even though I paralleled it to Life of Pi, don’t go into expecting something ‘fresh-faced’ and ‘enlightening.’ This isn’t fluff. It paints a very dark picture of India. It’s kinda like the Pulp Fiction of Indian literature (but don’t worry, it’s written in English…Did you know most Indian novels are? True story).

Also, where books like Life of Pi and Eat, Pray, Love tend to romanticize the Indian ‘way,’ this book doesn’t. It’s also tackling India from an Indian perspective, which gives it an added level of legitimacy (compared to the other titles mentioned). The book deals with Indian religion, politics, and culture in ways that keep you turning pages. It’s a very quick read. (So even though I say it paints a dark picture of India, don’t think it’s like a Bible-sized Rushdie novel or something).

The main character, Balram (or the White Tiger, whatever), is born into poverty. He attempts to become financially independent (which is nigh impossible for him) and in the process, helps his bosses cover up crimes, neglects his destitute family, and realizes he must kill in order to escape “the Darkness” that has him – and all of India – caged.

If you read this book you won’t get that tra-la-la all-religions-are-one bull crap that Life of Pi (god bless it) ultimately gives you. You will leave this book disliking the main character, yet completely sympathizing with him (this, in turn, will make you dislike yourself because you’re really no better than him). And lastly, you will see just how much influence the West has had on India and get a taste for how that actually can affect your life/beliefs.

Why should you read this work? Because it will teach you about India – the real India – in a way that is entertaining and meaningful.

Why might you dislike this work? Well, you might have a hard time digesting the gritty plot and the fact that a guy gets his throat cut in the very beginning (which I thought was AWESOME…I love excellent deaths).

Why do I like this work? [Answer will only make sense once you’ve read the book] Because I know what it’s like to touch people’s feet (and the fact I get so angry about it and actually haven’t experienced anything like Balram experienced makes me feel worse – I have no right to complain) [I don’t have a problem with feet, really].

Since Panda kindly left out any blame, I will admit to the fact that it was my fault we are behind. My excuse? My son got sick, I got sick, my husband is never home, his car broke down so he took mine, and I couldn't get to the book store to read, and I started a small at-home business. Good enough excuses for ye?

I had to admit to myself that I couldn't keep up with everything and, in the great scheme of things, this blog is the least important thing in my life right now, so I couldn't let it stress me out as much as it did.

But because I still want to read and all that, the blog goes on; as Amanda said, we will simply be making fewer posts.

Moving on.

Amanda's review makes The White Tiger sound amazing. An excellent review, darling,  and one that makes me ashamed of the book I am about to review. Keep in mind that I had just had a baby, was suffering from post partum depression, was extremely tired, and just wanted an easy read that would make me feel good inside.

So I read Where We Belong, the newest book by Emily Giffin - the author of Something Borrowed, which was made into a cute film a few years ago.

Let me just say, I am a fan of chick lit. Though it is often awful, it makes me feel happy, and that's what it's supposed to do. Which is why I continue to re-read Twilight every year. I have read all of Emily Giffin's books, and liked them well enough. This one, not so much. Her novels are generally centered by a love story, with other smaller stories surrounding it - friendship, family, mid life crises, yadda yadda.

Where We Belong was different because the central story was of an adopted daughter setting out to find her birth mother and connecting with her "real" family. In the process, the author also develops romantic interests for the daughter, Kirby, and the mother, Marian; we see the female leads interact with their friends - for Kirby, this means petty high schoolers; for Marian, petty up scale New Yorkers; and their respective relationships with their parents: Kirby feels like she doesn't belong with her family, and Marian has kept here pregnancy and the adoption of her daughter a secret from her father for the past 17 years.

Another difference was the fact that the perspective switched back and forth between the daughter and the mother, and I never felt like I really got a sense of who either of them are. Also, Emily's attempt to inhabit the mind of a 17 year old social outcast really fell short. Kirby was annoying. Emily tried to make her seem like a musical genius, and through in drum and classical rock references whenever she could, in very contrived ways. Marian was more interesting, perhaps so by default because she is a TV producer living in New York.

I was also left wanting when the two meet for the first time: Kirby shows up on her mothers doorstep after getting access to Marian's name and address for the first time on her 18th birthday. The scene is mostly written from Kirby's perspective, and though we do have access to some of Marian's thoughts and thus know that her emotions are out of control, her actions are far too nonchalant for the situation. Marian invites Kirby in, they go clothing shopping together, eat breakfast, and ignore all deeper issues for the most part.

One thing I liked about the book, and do about all of Giffins novels, is the fact that there are recurring characters. Some of Marian's friends were the central characters in other novels. Other than that, I can't really recommend the book.

X Marks the Spot - Review of Eleven and Twelve of Deja Dead

The big giant panda here! 

Can I just say that the St. Jean Baptiste Day seems like a lot of fun? Reminded me of New Orleans or something. Not that I would really want to participate, but it would be fun to watch the parade from afar...

The fact that the perp, when running away from them, was wearing an orange hat (allowing Tempe to follow him clearly through that crowd) was... Dude, take the hat off. Orange is the brightest f*king color in the book, man. 

And though Claudel doesn't save Tempe's ass because of some pimp or hooker incident, he still has to save her ass when she gets trampled in the crowd. Tempe is not only the first battered main character (I'm right, right?), but she also fits the battered woman stereotype nicely. In fact, it's her very feminism which gets her into trouble (that silly female, she thinks she can chase down and take on the bad guy alone! She's so cute. Just look where that idea got her! Now, sit there and look pretty, honey). 

*The Panda is not amused* Females should not stereotype themselves, Reichs. 

But all meanness aside...

I was tickled by the Salman Rushdie reference Claudel makes. He compares the "bad guy" to him because of his little hide out. But then I was like... Rushdie shouldn't be compared to a bad guy. Even if I don't particularly enjoy his novels. lol.  But the fact Claudel knows who Rushdie is shows some sort of sensitive side, I'm sure. 

I'm sure there are more, but I only noted one Linguistic reference in my annotations. I'm too lazy (being a panda) to double check. Tempe seems more interested in Linguistics than science,   I'm tellin' yah. 

I have nothing to say about chapter 12 really. I have a few hunches about what will happen, but  I'm not really sure how to put them into words. I'll just read 13 and 14 for now! 



Of course, Panda knows who Rushdie is. Hel doesn't. Sigh.

The interesting thing here is that Tempe gets pushed down and trampled on in the crowd - and gets rescued by Claudel. Although in a way Panda was right about a man saving the day, it wasn't in a "a man is needed for this" sort of way. So I disregard this. Conveniently. It seemed for a moment that Claudel was going to be a nice guy now, but no.

St-Jacques escapes and Claudel goes back to being an ass.

While Tempe was getting pushed around and knocked down in the crowd, I really expected her to bust out some martial arts moves like she does in the TV show. I certainly did not expect her to be such a whimp. Then again, what are you supposed to do when someone yanks your head back by your pony tail to the point that you can hear your neck snap.

But, I love that they now have a subject to investigate. Things are getting exciting :)

The team goes back to explore the crime scene and find some interesting stuff in the basement, including newspaper clippings of crimes (some of which were the ones Tempe is working on, and some random ones), a map with x's marking the spots where the dismembered bodies were found, and a list of names (including the dismembered women) with details listed that only stalkers would assemble.

Despite all this, Claudel is not convinced that St-Jacques is the killer. Really? How much more obvious does it need to be? Then again, maybe it's a little too obvious. A little too easy.

They also find a picture of Brennan with an X made through her. Creeepy.

~Hel

Allons-y! Let's roll! - Nine and Ten of Deja Dead

Howdy, ya'll!

We've gotten a wee bit behind here because my family is sick and I haven't able to get any reading done. But hopefully we will get back on track now.

In these chapters, Tempe, Claudel and his partner go after who they believe might be the perp (perpetrator). The man they are after used the last victims credit card at an atm, and a surveillance camera managed to capture a (sort of) picture of him. The owner of the little convenience store where the atm is housed claims he doesn't recognize the man from the crappy picture.

Howver, the trio lucks (sort of) out when they question two old men camped outside of the store. Technically, Tempe questions them. Apparently it doesn't occur to the detectives to question two men who seem to live on lawn chairs next to the atm.

Right.

One of the men believes the man in the pictures lives in a seedy apartment building down the road, so Tempe and the boys go to investigate. Sure enough, the perp lives there and his name is supposedly St-Jacques. The detectives enter his apartment without a warrant but with a key. Their breach of protocol will come back to bit them in the ass - though the apartment appears to be empty, St-Jacques is hiding behind the door to the basement, which they somehow overlooked, and manages to run out.

Erm, really? There's three people in the small apartment and no one manages to stop him? A parade is going on outside, and the perp manages to disappear in the crowd. Typico.

~Hel

Panda here. 

I'm really enjoying the French swear words the characters keep using. I'm learning so much!

In chapter nine I only noted one Linguistic reference Tempe makes. (Yes, I'm keeping track now. It's the main thing that keeps me entertained). She makes a lot of them. 

In chapter ten, the No Warrant Entry really pissed me off. I don't know why. No, I *do* know why. It's because cops breaking rules (even in sly and clever ways that speed up the plot) undermines their authority. People in the entertainment industry need to realize that the way fake law enforcements behave affects real law enforcements. Remember when the TV show 24 was under critique because the torturers of Guantanamo got ideas from the show? When 'good guys' break rules terrible real life sh*t happens. See here and here (they open in new windows). 

But I'm done ranting. 

The CUM Police - Review of Chapter Seven and Eight of Deja Dead

Chapter seven was, well... Well, I was kinda right about Gabby needing to be rescued by Tempe - and I'm pretty sure that it's still going to happen later on (in a bigger way). And this next time, well, Tempe won't be able to 'do' it on her own. She's going to need a man. Because that's just how life works, right? Right. 

Now about chapter eight... The CUM police need to change their name. Like, seriously. 

Also, I'm getting tired of Tempe talking/thinking about her menstrual cycle and "yeast infection[s]." I mean, I'm all for accepting the female anatomy (I kinda have to anyway, because that's what I've got), but this is the equivalent of guys talking about sports. I feel like authors put it in there to remind us, "This is a girl/boy character, see? She/he is talking about the monthly curse/sports. I know how to properly depict gender in my novel. I am brilliant." 

We get it. She's a girl. She can, you know, think about other things. 


Oh, Panda! You've stolen the words out of my mouth. I am pretty sure I spat my coffee out in shock while reading at Barnes and Noble when I read "I needed him [Claudel] here like I needed a yeast infection". (And I wasn't even drinking coffee!)

What the crap! I didn't see it as reminding us of the sex of the character, it seemed more like she was trying to show off with how well she could use similes. I HATE it when crime novels do this, because they take it to the excess and it always seems cheesy.

I also thought the name of the CUM police needs to be changed. I mean, come on!

Tempe as a person seems really boring. All she does is eat health food, drink coffee, do Tai Chi and follow the news. Snoooze.

Gabby is as annoying, if not more. Her character is a giant mess right now. Which I suppose is a necessity because Reichs needs to convey her fear but not give away too much of the plot.

However, I disagree about a man showing up to save the day. At least if the book follows the show. The T.V. Tempe is very independent, very knowledgeable in the martial arts, and quick to shoot people. Is that a flaw? Not sure. Her lack of need for a man is what makes her so appealing. We'll see what happens.

~Hel