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The Knife of Never Letting Go, by Patrick Ness

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Todd Hewitt, a boy on the cusp of manhood, lives in Prentisstown on New World, where his people settled in order to live a simpler life closer to God. Only problem is, the natives of New World weren’t the friendliest, and during the war that ensued, they released a germ that killed off all of the women (including Todd’s mother), half of the men (including Todd’s father), and caused all men’s thoughts to be broadcast. (Incidentally, all the animals can speak too. Who doesn’t love a talking dog?) This Noise is not something that can be turned off or ignored – it is always there, and it is the concept from which Patrick Ness draws the title for his trilogy, Chaos Walking. As Todd tells us, “Noise is a man unfiltered, and without a filter, a man is just Chaos Walking.”

In The Knife of Never Letting Go, the first in the trilogy, Todd is mentally preparing himself for becoming a man in a few short days when he stumbles upon a strange silence in the Noise, something he knows cannot exist. But there it is – silence, in a way even louder than the Noise itself. Todd’s discovery changes his life completely, setting him off on a mad chase as he is pursued by several men who may or may not be crazy, are probably lying about everything, and most certainly want to kill him. This is an oversimplified synopsis, but much of the joy of reading a great dystopia is its newness. The less you know, the more enjoyable it is. You’ll have to take my word for it that this is a great one.

The idea of being able to read minds (willingly or unwillingly) is not new, but Ness writes about it in such a way that it feels fresh. He makes several stylistic choices that contribute to the unique feel of the book. The most obvious is the way he (or his editor) chose to represent Noise – in a radically different, messy, large font. At a couple of points in the book, Noise covers a whole spread of pages, and the effect is powerful. Reading those pages feels both fascinating and claustrophobic. While I love audiobooks, I can’t imagine listening to this one. It really should be read with the eyes.

Several of Ness’ other stylistic choices also paid off. The story is told in first person present tense, and the feeling is that Todd is telling it to you as it happens. This technique works great for an action-centered book such as this, whereas I find it a bit wearing in other books. Todd is illiterate and grew up in a pretty primitive settlement, so he tells his story in dialect. Far from being annoying, it makes Todd an endearing, frustrating, and real person. I could hear Todd speaking to me; it felt as if I were reading his own Noise. At points when Todd is stressed or proud or angry, he’ll give the reader a parenthetical aside – (shut up!) – bringing us even further into his mind. Ness also makes liberal use of run-on sentences when Todd’s thoughts are moving too swiftly for proper punctuation. Some of the action sequences are written with short, fragmentary, one-sentence paragraphs, a technique I found less successful but didn’t detract too much. The end result of these style choices is that the reader is left with a book that really feels like a creative work. Ness isn’t just telling us a story – he has created something, and it is different and artful and challenging.

A lot of well-plotted young adult fiction suffers from a lack of depth or meaning. I can immediately think of a dozen young adult books that start with a great premise but just aren’t very good books. The Knife of Never Letting Go is not one of these. Like The Hunger Games, which I was reminded a lot of while reading Ness’ book, The Knife of Never Letting Go is essentially one long action sequence, but I feel that Todd’s world and its characters were better fleshed out. It is for this reason that I anticipate reading The Ask and the Answer, the second book in the trilogy, even more than I anticipate reading Catching Fire, the sequel to The Hunger Games (and I did really like The Hunger Games).

Truly great literature always includes three essential things: an interesting plot, eloquent writing, and layers of meaning. This one’s got them all, particularly that last one (it won the Tiptree award, but the way the book explores what it means to be a man is not its only takeaway). Sure, it’s not a perfect book. The short lines irritated me, and at points I had a hard time suspending my disbelief. But the book’s strengths overwhelmingly outweigh its weaknesses. How do you think your own community would react if everyone’s thoughts were suddenly broadcast to you, without any way to stop it from happening? Would your community’s reaction make you proud or afraid?

The Ask and the Answer will be released in the US one week from today. That is plenty of time for you all to go out and read The Knife of Never Letting Go. And then you can send me a message and we can commiserate over how much we hate Patrick Ness for [this phrase has been removed due to spoilage]. And how even though we truly do hate him, we’re still going to read his next book.

While you wait for the second or third book, check out this short story prequel that Ness has written. Even though it’s a prequel, it’s heavy on spoilers, so don’t read it unless you’ve read Knife.

Twitter-style book reviews, part 2

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I’m moving soon, so I’ve been frantically trying to read all of the books I have checked out from various libraries, books I’ve picked up at conferences, and books I’ve borrowed from friends and acquaintances. What this means is that I have started many books but not finished any of them. At present count I’m reading twelve books. Because I haven’t actually finished any, I can’t post a full-fledged review, but I decided it would be worthwhile to highlight some of the more interesting and noteworthy titles. So, without further ado, what I’m reading now in 140 characters or less.

Liar, by Justine Larbalestier

After her boyfriend is killed, pathological liar Micah says from now on, she’ll tell only the truth. Interesting psychological YA with a twist.

Escape, by Carolyn Jessop

Carolyn Jessop’s story about her life in the FLDS, her subsequent escape, and what happened afterward. Simplistic writing, compelling story.

The Secret Life of Prince Charming, by Deb Caletti

Quinn discovers her womanizing father steals more from the women in his life than their hearts. Sometimes slow YA, but has real insight.

A Kiss in Time, by Alex Flinn

Teenage boy wakes up Sleeping Beauty in modern times. Hilarity and confusion ensue. There are better retellings, but this is fluffy and fun.

The Knife of Never Letting Go, by Patrick Ness

A germ kills off all females and causes men’s thoughts to be broadcast. One day, Todd discovers a quiet in the Noise. Fascinating YA dystopia.

The Play’s the Thing…

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The three books above all have something in common, aside from being some of the strongest books published in the last year. All three have seen an adaptation or will be seeing an adaptation in the near future.

If you have been living under a rock, you likely already know that The Hunger Games will be made into a movie. Although the book garnered huge success, there’s been quite a bit of buzz abut whether a movie could ever stack up. From comparisons to other dystopian films like Japan’s Battle Royale to discussions of how it forever impacts how readers envision this very descriptive setting and story.

Perhaps the most interesting and compelling discussion I’ve run across about the adaptation has come from here. If you don’t click, it boils down to this: how could a film ever capture Katniss’s internal struggles, which lie at the very heart of why this is such a strong book and strong character.

While thinking about that book, I ran across news that Gayle Foreman’s fantastic book If I Stay may also be made into a movie. Although many are excited, I’m very worried about it for the same reasons I’m a bit worried about the film adaption of The Hunger Games. So much of the story is cerebral and almost all of it takes place within Mia’s mind. Sure, much of the action happens outside it, but that’s because it’s happening inside of her via flashback. I’m just unsure how this can be captured well on film and, to be entirely frank, I don’t want it to be done that way. I had a powerful reaction to the book, and a film of the same storyline I doubt would have the same impact. The punch, for me, cannot be done the same way.

But let me propose another solution: the stage adaptation.

As you may or may not have heard, The Griffin Theater group in Chicago put on Cory Doctorow’s techno-thriller Little Brother for a short run. Like If I Stay and The Hunger Games, Little Brother is told through first person and much of the action takes place in the minds of the characters. While it is not to the extent of the other titles, Doctorow’s book has a lot of description and explanation that is hard to translate outside the written word.

I had the opportunity to go see it this weekend, and I was blown away. The minimal staging and the strong actors were able to translate a book that I’d never imagine in another medium to the stage. The live action of it allowed Marcus — the main character for those of you who haven’t read it yet — to narrate his thoughts and to take time to perform asides that built the back stories or explanations perfectly. The true test, though, was that I brought along 3 friends who had not read the book beforehand nor had any idea of the plot or story: they enjoyed it and understood it, AND they were compelled to pick up the book afterward.

Although I haven’t yet seen If I Stay or The Hunger Games, I wonder how much better they could translate in another medium. Both are strong stories, but because so much “happens” internally, it’ll be a challenge to capture the sentiments on the big screen. Were either adapted to stage, I wonder how much stronger it could be. Can you imagine a full-out battle on the big stage and the asides of Katniss? Epic. If I Stay, though, might face the same challenge on the big stage just because of the story itself. But you know what could be good? Reader’s theatre.

That also goes the other way. I just can’t foresee Little Brother packing quite the punch on the big screen. It’s a powerful story but how can it be if flattened or if over dependent on inter-character dialog, versus internal thoughts of Marcus?

Part of me thinks about this from a pessimistic viewpoint, of course — do these best sellers become movies because the film industry simply bets they’ll have a large audience? Obviously. Do best sellers become that way because they’re good stories? More often than not. It makes sense, then, but I also think there’s a quick leap to one medium over another, when with a little more time and audience input, the punches could be wider and deeper. Sure, we can always have a later remake, but we can never have the opportunity to have a first chance again. I think in Doctorow’s case, Little Brother was able to have a fantastic, memorable, enjoyable, and unique debut outside its print form.

What do you think of book adaptions? Do you have a favorite? Do you have one you dislike most? What expressions do you find make better fits? I’m a proponent of the fact that everyone takes their literacy in different ways, and I’m always thinking about or asking about how one can best delivery the message, the story, or the entertainment. We aren’t all born readers, but we can all be born learners in one form or another.

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

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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.

BBC America Audiobook club

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Here at STACKED, we like audiobooks. We also like book clubs. So why not put the two together? That’s just what the lovely folks over at BBC Audiobooks America have done. Their June selection is Peter Benchley’s Jaws, and they’ll be having a discussion at their facebook page from June 24-28. Just become a fan of the group and then dazzle everyone with your insights. As long as you’re located in the United States or Canada, you can participate.

It just so happens that June is audiobook month, so this is a good opportunity for those of you who might not have thought about picking one up to get in on the movement. I have yet to enter a library that doesn’t have audiobooks for checkout, and Jaws is such a classic, it would surprise me greatly if your own local library didn’t have it. Then you can tell us if it’s true that the book is always better than the movie. (In my oh so humble opinion, this is not a true adage, but that is a topic for another day…)