STACKED

books

Darkwood, by M.E. Breen

|

A few posts back, Kelly mentioned that she wondered whether book bloggers just love all books that they read, because she rarely comes across a negative review. Normally, I choose to spotlight the books I think are particularly well-done and would recommend to others, but I think it’s also important to discuss books that others have liked, but that I didn’t find especially engaging. M.E. Breen’s Darkwood is one of those books.

Annie lives in Howland with her aunt and uncle, who aren’t particularly nice people. Both her parents are dead, as well as her older sister. When she overhears her aunt and uncle planning something very unpleasant for her, she decides to flee into the forest, despite the fact that she is sure to come across dark creatures called Kinderstalk who are notorious for gobbling up children.

I was initially excited about Darkwood. It garnered a starred review from Kirkus and a favorable review from Booklist. I also love the cover – the illustration of the protagonist, Annie, reminds me a little bit of the covers of Garth Nix’s Abhorsen trilogy, which I love. The book also seemed to have the dark fairy-tale feeling that permeated Nix’s excellent books. When I read the first chapter of Darkwood, my excitement grew. Annie’s horrid aunt and uncle were immediately fleshed out, and I loved the creepy sense of foreboding I got from the setting, a world where night falls immediately on the heels of day with no evening in between. Breen also set up some nice mysteries that I looked forward to solving.

Unfortunately, my excitement didn’t last. Annie’s travels into the forest are derailed by a trip to the Drop, where children are kept as slaves to mine precious ringstone, and then a trek to see the King of the land where various events occur without any apparent connection to other side plots. Even after I had finished the book, I had a hard time understanding how all the pieces fit together, or if they were meant to at all. Moreover, I felt no real connection to the characters, and Breen’s writing didn’t strike me as particularly beautiful or deep. (A good counter-example, in my opinion, is Shannon Hale, who could write about paint drying and still impress you with the beauty and depth of her words.)

Middle grade and young adult literature can and should be deep. Just because the book is written for young people does not mean it can sacrifice good characterization and eloquent writing for a fast-paced plot. In Darkwood, there’s too much going on and not enough development to make it engaging. It feels like Breen tried to force a half dozen different ideas into one novel without sufficient development of any of these ideas. Because of this, the novel feels jumpy and disjointed. Additionally, it seems that Annie was meant to be a strong, smarter-than-she-appears female protagonist, but she seems to mostly react to events that happen to her instead of choose to be proactive. When she does make a decision, it’s inexplicable. For example, Annie chooses to leave her traveling companion who has taken her on a much-needed visit to the King – why? Annie’s reasons are inscrutable, and my cynical answer is “plot development.” Annie’s leave-taking places her once again in danger, and danger seems to be Breen’s currency. The hallmark of a good adventure tale is that the adventure happens for a reason.

That being said, I can see middle-graders enjoying Darkwood due to its exciting plot. It is filled with action: chases and wolf attacks and daring escapes. It’s got a fair number of twists and some parts certainly are exhilarating. At some points Breen is able to bring back that ominous mood I felt at the beginning. Then again, I can also see readers being confused about the jumpy nature of the story and the inability to really identify with Annie, who seems to not have much personality. I think Breen’s ideas are more intriguing than a lot of what I’ve read in middle grade fantasy lately, which is why I felt so disappointed that the book fell short of its potential.

Where the Wild Things Are – Adaptation Discussions Continued

|


I was reading through my favorite blogs this past week, and I noticed a particularly interesting entry on Pitchfork about the upcoming movie version of Where the Wild Things Are. Of course, seeing the Pitchfork is music-centric, the entry was talking about the music in a “Behind the Scenes” montage. Being a book nerd, though, I was even more interested in the actual content of the video, especially because it features Maurice Sendak, the author of the book.

Sendak reveals his criteria for adapting his book. Evidently he was involved with Spike Jonze’s production from the very beginning, but the movie was definitely the director’s very different vision.

The video addresses all sorts of interesting issues – how do you make a full length feature from a small children’s book? What kind of inspiration can people draw from a work of art? What makes a book a classic in the first place? And I love how Maurice Sendak gives a shout-out to the librarians who became “pushers” of his critically maligned work.

Finally, I just had to quote Maurice Sendak’s final statement about the movie. This is a perfect way to adapt another work – allowing it to take on a different identity without losing the soul of the original work.

There will be controversy about this. But the film has an entire emotional, spiritual, visual life which is as valid as the book. He [Spike Jonze]’s done it like me whether he’s known it or not, in a more brilliant, modern, fantastical way, which takes nothing from my book, but enhances, enriches my book.

I thought Stacked readers might find this video relevant, especially after our last post inspired some discussion about the nature of adaptations. We’ll see if this movie lives up to the high praise of Sendak – I look forward to it.

The Eternal Smile, by Gene Luen Yang and Derek Kirk Kim

|

Yang and Kim team up for The Eternal Smile, a graphic novel that uses three different stories to explore fantasy versus reality, and the ways in which the two overlap. It’s a fascinating theme that carries with it layers of potential meaning. While I believe both Yang and Kim collaborated on the storylines, the words in the book are by Yang and the illustrations are by Kim.

The first story features Duncan, a stereotypical hero in a sword-and-sorcery land who must save the kingdom (and the princess) from a terrible villain. It’s a great story to start off this trio of stories where things are never what they appear, since it seems at first that Duncan’s tale is simply one of those by-the-numbers fantasy tales we see so often. In fact, it’s not one of those at all, and the ending turns this little tale into a powerful story with a powerful meaning.

The second story is about an avaricious frog named Gran’pa Greenbax and his obsession with money. One day, Gran’pa Greenbax finds a smile up in the sky (from which the title of the book is derived), and his life is changed forever. Again, thing are not what they appear.

These first two stories are clever and thoughtful, but it is the final story, about a cubicle worker named Janet Oh, that really makes the book a worthwhile read. Janet works in an unrewarding job with a boss who degrades her. One day, she gets an email from Henry, a Nigerian prince, who desperately needs her help. All she has to do is give him her banking information, and he will give her a large cut of his family’s wealth and carry her away to Nigeria. What you think you know about Janet’s motivations is wrong. This last story is my runaway favorite – it’s so deceptively deep, and sweet too.

Unlike Yang’s Printz-winning novel American-Born Chinese, the three stories in The Eternal Smile do not all coalesce at the end. They are related only by their emphasis on a common theme. Their exploration of this theme is so well-done that I went back and re-read them the same night I picked up the book. This book especially lends itself to re-reading because of its emphasis on how we use fantasy in our lives – to escape from reality, to enhance our lives, to empower ourselves. Each story is more than just a fun romp – there is meaning there. This is what makes the book a good read, and one I’d recommend. While I feel I can safely recommend books that are fun but pretty devoid of meaning, I do try to attach a disclaimer to them (“Well, I enjoyed it, BUT…”). No disclaimer necessary for this one.

I admit that I’m a late adopter of graphic novels. I wrote them off as glorified comic books when they first started to make their mark in libraries, and when I had to read one for a school assignment, I dreaded the fact that I’d actually have to pay attention to the pictures in order to understand the story. I quickly got over this bias. I read Linda Medley’s lovely and clever Castle Waiting, and then I read Watchmen, and my prejudice against graphic novels was erased. In these two novels I read before The Eternal Smile, the illustrations were wonderful and creative and expressive and interesting. The same goes for the illustrations by Kim in The Eternal Smile. His illustrations for each story are so different in flavor that I initially thought they must each have been drawn by a different person. The drawings for the third story are particularly lovely, with each frame washed in a light blueish-gray hue – until, that is, Janet visits Nigeria, and the frames come alive with color (reminiscent of The Wizard of Oz film in more ways than one).

I still don’t see much of a difference between graphic novels and comic books, except graphic novels have the requisite beginning, middle, and end, whereas comic books are serial in nature (this is not a hard and fast rule, but it seems to be the main distinguishing factor). I’ve just come to realize that graphic novels can vary as much in quality as novels without pictures do.

Aside from clever stories and beautiful illustrations, the book itself is also a work of art. I read one reviewer describe the physical feel of the book as “solid,” and I agree with that description. It’s a surprisingly heavy book for its size, with thick paper that just feels wonderful in your hands. And it has that smell – you know, the “new book” smell that accompanies books with heavy, glossy pages and bright ink. It really belies my initial assumption of graphic novels as “comic books with a fancier name.” This book does not at all resemble the flimsy, thin-paged Archie comics I sometimes read as a kid. I’ve read some authors describe the difference between a graphic novel and a comic book as “the binding,” and that’s not totally wrong. But the binding makes a difference. This book is well-made, and I think that will go a long way in making kids want to pick it up. While younger kids may have a harder time understanding the levels of meaning in the book (the satirical nature of the second story in particular may go unnoticed), older kids and teens will likely get more out of it. Fans of fantasy stories may also come to see their favorite genre in a new light.

Genesis by Bernard Beckett

|

Genesis by Bernard Beckett was STACKED’s first round-robin review choice. Each of us read the book and offer our takes on this new title. We took something different, so enjoy and if you’ve read it, PLEASE share your takes!

Kimberly:

I’ve mentioned before that I love dystopias. “Love” may not even be a strong enough word for the way I feel about them. It began with The Giver in middle school and was solidified when I read Biting the Sun as a teenager. (These two books, plus Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake, form the pinnacle of great dystopias, in my oh so humble opinion.) Since then, I’ve followed a steady diet of dystopian fiction, reading mostly everything I could get my hands on. There have been some duds, some gems, and some in-between.

So is Genesis a dud or a gem? Easy answer – definitely a gem.

Genesis is still a weird book, even by dystopia standards. The story is set sometime in the nebulous future on what used to be New Zealand. The world has been devastated by a plague, and the island is the only place left inhabited. Anax, our protagonist, wants to enter the prestigious Academy, and in order to do so, she must pass a grueling four-hour oral test. This book is the record of that test, and through the test, the reader learns about the world in which Anax lives.

Genesis is a short novel – a novella, really – and its length is one of its strengths. The format of the book is mostly a sustained conversation between Anax and her examiners. Due to this format, most of what happens is told rather than shown, which is usually considered a major taboo when writing fiction. Beckett makes it work. Coming in at just over a hundred pages, the conversation could become tedious or frustrating if it went on for much longer. As it is, the book is just long enough to keep the reader in suspense, and just short enough to prevent the reader from being so frustrated as to give up.

Dystopias are always better when you don’t know much about the plot, so I’m not going to go into it any further here. Most dystopias have a grand twist – or several twists – at the end that try their best to rip your heart out and shake up your world, making you question everything you just read. I like to believe that predicting these twists has become old hat for me, but often I am still surprised. Genesis surprised me. After I had finished the book, I had to open it back up to re-read several sections. I’m still thinking about it many days later. The twist makes the book, but that’s not the only thing that recommends it as a good read. Beckett presents some enduring questions about the nature of humanity (that have admittedly been asked before), and his writing is excellent.

I think Genesis will appeal to fans of the subgenre who are eager for something new and fresh. While Beckett certainly uses tropes that have been used before (the four levels of society are particularly reminiscent of Brave New World), the story is told in a unique way, and the ending is surprising and deceptive in its simplicity. It was hugely fun to go back through the book and pick up the seemingly innocuous clues that would have given away the secret, if only I had paid closer attention. Despite its brevity, Beckett’s book is deep. For those readers who may not be quite as familiar with the dystopia canon, this book may seem really “out there.” I don’t think it’s something they can’t handle, though, and because of their ignorance of the subgenre, the book may be all the more exciting and make that much more of an impact.

Bonuses: When you’re done reading, take another glance at the cover. Something there will have a different meaning than when you first looked. Also, the book’s Amazon page has a simple, but cool, trailer.


Kelly:
This book flew! When I began and throughout the first three hours of the interview, I kept thinking about books that delve into philosophical arguments like Ishmael and Sophie’s World. Though Genesis is based on a dystopian society and the history and philosophies underpinning the story are entirely fictitious, it was saddled in such a way to be almost realistic in a future world.

I’m being purposely vague in my review because that is how a reader should approach this title. You’ll read it and be both thoroughly confused and understand exactly what is going on — Anax’s exam is about sharing her beliefs in what happened during the history of her society, so there is a lot of history and postulation that the reader is in on and which leaves the reader out. This is okay.

Though there were times I wanted to reread and try to understand the history as intimately as possible, I did not and recommend not doing so. Getting the idea of what is happening and focusing on Anax, rather than what she’s saying, will pay off heavily in the end. This is the sort of book that kept me wanting to read. I kept thinking about it when I put it down, and I kept thinking to myself that I knew what was going to happen.
But the ending? What a twist! I was convinced I knew what was going to happen, but then I was thrown off kilter and felt like Beckett did a real service to me for that. Genesis was not the book I was expecting, and for that reason, I really felt like this was one of the best I’ve read this year.

Genesis will appeal to those who love dystopias, philosophically-driven books, or something “just different,” if you will.

Although we’re round robin reviewing this one, I have to say that keeping the story vague is important; to really get the pleasure of reading this one, you have to go in knowing very little and build your own expectations and conclusions. Likewise, this very fast read is one I wanted to open again as soon as I finished it. I’m pretty excited with how much exposure this one is getting. I received it as an advanced reading copy but just as I got it in the mail, I noticed it all over the airport, too. I think this is one of those titles that can appeal to so many readers, but it will require the reader put aside their biases — those who have been turned off to “harder” reading (think of those I mentioned before, as well as other titles like Candide) might not be willing to invest in this one. I think it could help shift those biases, though.

Jennifer:

I’m going to be the lone dissenter in this love-fest for Genesis. I agree, this is a well-written, interesting book containing an unusual dystopia within its pages. But after reading, I can’t say that I liked this novella.

I found that Genesis has more in common with a screenplay than a novel. I kept imagining how it would be filmed. The recited dialogues would be flashbacks filmed with soft lighting. The holograms would really just cut away to tense battles of wills reminiscent of 12 Angry Men. Some sort of tricky device would be used to reveal the final twists; I can see an aspiring director filming everything from a first person point of view in order to emphasize the final reveal. With a little reformatting, Beckett’s work could easily be turned into a script – just change the spacing, add a couple of sluglines to establish place, and the transformation is complete! The structure lends itself to a future movie deal. Intentional? It’s hard to tell.

Maybe I’m a cynical product of my surroundings. I live in Los Angeles, a place where the majority of media consumption is film-related. A frightening number of my friends call themselves aspiring screenwriters; dystopia is a popular topic. I’m reminded of the inordinately large number of student films deal with similar philosophical issues… replete with unexpected turn at the end.

I read through this book thinking, “I’ve seen this before.” I know much is intentional, especially in regards to Beckett’s inclusion of classical philosophy and Judeo-Christian theology. Those examples declare themselves loudly, pointing to their sources with little subtlety. Glimpses of modern popular culture rare their heads within this novel as well. Joseph and the young Adam reek of “Maverick” and “Goose” from Top Gun. I could imagine stormtroopers from Star Wars as soldiers in the New Republic. And the first encounter between Pericles and Anax contains much of the simmering sexual chemistry of Sarah and Charles from John Fowles’ The French Lieteunant’s Woman. It feels like Beckett draws upon familar myths to lull the reader into a sense of understanding of this world and our protagonist.

This is a smart book, going beyond a simple amalgamation of all the ideas presented in Philosophy 101. Beckett seems like he genuinely cares about the nature of humanity. But in the end, something rings false for me. I never full engaged with the history lesson or our historian. Unlike Kelly and Kimberly, I had real problems getting the willpower to struggle through the countless arguments and conversations. I felt manipulated and unwilling to draw my own conclusions from the novel. It just wasn’t for me.

I will, however, agree that the cover is exceptionally well-done. I love the additional layers of meaning that develop after reading the novella.

Forest Born, by Shannon Hale

|

I was lucky enough to score a pre-published copy of Shannon Hale’s newest Bayern book at the Texas Library Association annual conference this year. I really loved The Goose Girl and enjoyed the sequel, Enna Burning, but I hadn’t gotten around to reading River Secrets yet (which is too bad, because Razo is one of my favorite characters). I knew Forest Born would be fun, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Forest Born focuses upon Rinna, Razo’s younger sister. For many years, Rin has felt like something is wrong with her. She senses some power within her that simultaneously thrills her and repulses her. When she lets her defenses down and uses this power, she is ashamed of herself and vows to never let it happen again. In order to keep this promise, Rin refuses to show her own self to the world and instead mimicks those around her that she finds more admirable than herself. She does it so well that no one in her large and loving family really knows who Rin is on the inside; they call her Ma’s shadow. Unsurprisingly, Rin feels trapped at home, and when her brother Razo returns for a visit, she leaves with him to go to the city. She meets up with the “Fire Sisters,” – Isi, Enna, and Dasha – and adventure ensues. The main thrust of the book concerns Rin learning who she is and how to be comfortable in her own skin. It’s a worthwhile lesson that many adults never learn, and it will resonate with young readers.

The story, which involves Rin setting out with her new companions to prevent a war and face an evil foe, was fun but predictable, which is not necessarily a bad thing. It is Hale’s writing that really elevates the book and makes it something special. As I read the first chapter, I was conscious of her skill as a writer. Take this excerpt:

“She listened harder, trembling with a desire to hear. A space inside her opened. Not a sound, not a smell, not even a feeling. If it had been a color, it might have been green. If it had touched her ears, it might have sounded rhythmic, like the creak of a rocking chair or the drone of a bee. If it had a scent, it might have been sweet and drowsy, like fresh pine on the fire. The place in her chest that had ached with panic now felt warbley and sweet, drowsy and green.”

The first chapter of Forest Born is one of the best first chapters I’ve read in any book, and it sets a good pace and tone for the rest of the adventure. I was immediately pulled into Rin’s mind and view of the world. After I had set the book down, I found myself unable to recall if Hale had written it in first or third person. I had to check to make sure – third person. A good measure of the depth of the main character, I think, is whether the author can fool you into believing a third person narrative is actually written in first person. So, while I was able to predict most of the events, it didn’t erode my enjoyment. The villain – a people speaker – was chillingly evil and reminded me a great deal of the villain in Kristin Cashore’s Graceling (a good thing).

In contrast to the previous Books of Bayern that I have read, a large focus of the book is not a love story. In fact, the idea of a beau for Rin doesn’t crop up until the very end of the book, and Rin rejects it when it’s mentioned. It makes sense – she can’t consider entering in to such a union until she has become her own person, comfortable with her power and able to embrace it rather than simply mimicking everyone else. I was pleased by Hale’s slight departure from her normal routine in this manner. It brought some freshness to the story, and it lets young girls who live in our world know that it’s okay to decide not to date someone. Figuring out who you are needs to come first.

I saw Hale speak at the Texas Book Festival last year, and the many readers in attendance (children and adults!) were so enthusiastic about the Books of Bayern, it was hard not to get caught up in their excitement. (Okay, so I was one of the very excited adults.) I wasn’t let down by Forest Born, and I don’t think young adults will be either. For fans of Bayern, this book is a treat. Many characters from past books make an appearance, and the world in which Bayern exists is further fleshed out. At the same time, I don’t think I was at any disadvantage for not reading River Secrets, so readers new to Bayern shouldn’t have a problem. This wasn’t my favorite book by Hale, or even my second favorite, but she’s just such a good writer that even if it were my least favorite, it would be worth a read.

Forest Born is due out on September 15.