• STACKED
  • About Us
  • Categories
    • Audiobooks
    • Book Lists
      • Debut YA Novels
      • Get Genrefied
      • On The Radar
    • Cover Designs
      • Cover Doubles
      • Cover Redesigns
      • Cover Trends
    • Feminism
      • Feminism For The Real World Anthology
      • Size Acceptance
    • In The Library
      • Challenges & Censorship
      • Collection Development
      • Discussion and Resource Guides
      • Readers Advisory
    • Professional Development
      • Book Awards
      • Conferences
    • The Publishing World
      • Data & Stats
    • Reading Life and Habits
    • Romance
    • Young Adult
  • Reviews + Features
    • About The Girls Series
    • Author Interviews
    • Contemporary YA Series
      • Contemporary Week 2012
      • Contemporary Week 2013
      • Contemporary Week 2014
    • Guest Posts
    • Link Round-Ups
      • Book Riot
    • Readers Advisory Week
    • Reviews
      • Adult
      • Audiobooks
      • Graphic Novels
      • Non-Fiction
      • Picture Books
      • YA Fiction
    • So You Want to Read YA Series
  • Review Policy

STACKED

books

  • STACKED
  • About Us
  • Categories
    • Audiobooks
    • Book Lists
      • Debut YA Novels
      • Get Genrefied
      • On The Radar
    • Cover Designs
      • Cover Doubles
      • Cover Redesigns
      • Cover Trends
    • Feminism
      • Feminism For The Real World Anthology
      • Size Acceptance
    • In The Library
      • Challenges & Censorship
      • Collection Development
      • Discussion and Resource Guides
      • Readers Advisory
    • Professional Development
      • Book Awards
      • Conferences
    • The Publishing World
      • Data & Stats
    • Reading Life and Habits
    • Romance
    • Young Adult
  • Reviews + Features
    • About The Girls Series
    • Author Interviews
    • Contemporary YA Series
      • Contemporary Week 2012
      • Contemporary Week 2013
      • Contemporary Week 2014
    • Guest Posts
    • Link Round-Ups
      • Book Riot
    • Readers Advisory Week
    • Reviews
      • Adult
      • Audiobooks
      • Graphic Novels
      • Non-Fiction
      • Picture Books
      • YA Fiction
    • So You Want to Read YA Series
  • Review Policy

Palace of Spies by Sarah Zettel

September 2, 2014 |

I love historical mysteries set in palaces, particularly when the sleuth is a girl spy masquerading as a servant or lady in waiting. I feel like there are enough books fitting this particular mold out now that it can almost be considered its own subgenre within YA: historical female spy palace mysteries? Over the weekend, I read Sarah Zettel’s excellent Palace of Spies, which kicks off her series of the same name. I read these sorts of books for the palace intrigue, the historical details of court life, and the intelligence of the amateur sleuth; Zettel’s book did not disappoint in any of these aspects.

One of the hallmarks of these stories is the teenage sleuth thrown into a life of espionage through desperation or blackmail – it doesn’t usually happen by choice. Such is the case with our protagonist, Peggy Fitzroy, an orphan who decided to refuse marriage to the wealthy jerk her rich uncle had picked our for her. Kicked out of said uncle’s home and with nowhere to turn, Peggy decides to accept an offer from the dubiously-named Mr. Tinderflint. He convinces her to pose as Lady Francesca Wallingham, who was very recently a lady in waiting to Princess Catherine (wife of George, the Prince of Wales, who would go on to be George II) – until her unfortunate death of a fever several weeks ago.

As Peggy bears more than a passing resemblance to Francesca, the deception isn’t difficult to pull off. She’s instated at Hampton Court Palace with no one the wiser, instructed to observe and report back. What precisely she is to look for isn’t deemed knowledge she needs to know, though she is told she must pay careful attention to the games of cards that the noble men and women entertain themselves with nightly.

Peggy is a smart girl. It doesn’t take her long to realize that not only is Mr. Tinderflint hiding something from her, but so is nearly everyone else at court. But the truly alarming realization is that Francesca did not die of a fever; she was murdered. It only follows that the murderer may come after Peggy next, thinking to finish the job.

As with any good palace mystery, there are a lot of threads to the story. The main mystery involves a Jacobite plot to instate the Stuart King James II to the throne of England, removing the Hanover King George I. It’s up to the reader (and Peggy) to puzzle out which subplots are integral to this central mystery and which are distractions (but interesting distractions nonetheless). Mixed up in this is the mystery of Peggy’s own past – her mother may have been a spy herself, and her father left them when Peggy was a young child. And of course, there’s plenty of court gossip to keep the reader entertained as well.

Peggy’s voice makes this an above average mystery. She’s sharply observant and learns quickly, making her ideally suited to her deception. She’s got a bit of a wry sense of humor, too, and sometimes lets her desire to one-up her court rivals get her into hot water. Watching Peggy try to puzzle out Francesca’s life without letting Francesca’s acquaintances catch on brings its own share of amusement, too, particularly when Peggy is greeted by what appears to be Francesca’s secret paramour in her bedchamber.

Zettel’s writing is confident and the story is well-plotted. Mysteries often hinge strongly on the final reveal at the end, and Palace of Spies has a great one, speaking to the way society underestimates the will and intelligence of teenage girls (both in the 1700s and today). Like all good mystery series, it also leaves a few questions about Peggy’s family’s past unanswered, giving Zettel fodder for future installments.

Hand this to readers who have enjoyed similar books in this historical female spy palace mystery subgenre (I’m gonna go with it) like Jennifer McGowan’s Maid of Secrets, Michaela MacColl’s Prisoners in the Palace, or Y. S. Lee’s The Traitor in the Tunnel. It’s also a great choice for readers interested in learning more about this period in England’s history – there aren’t many books that tackle the early 18th century and I know Jacobitism would fascinate many teen historical fiction junkies.

Filed Under: Historical Fiction, Mystery, review, Reviews, Uncategorized, Young Adult

Tomboy by Liz Prince

August 27, 2014 |

In yesterday’s post, I wrote about how I enjoy getting my nonfiction via graphic novel, and I read two spectacular ones over this past weekend. Coincidentally (or maybe not), they were both graphic memoirs about growing up as a girl in America.

Liz Prince’s Tomboy addresses this topic a bit more bluntly than Telgemeier’s Sisters does. Prince characterizes her identity as a tomboy as something she knew from almost the moment of birth, though she didn’t know how to articulate it right away. She hates wearing dresses, enjoys playing sports, doesn’t play with dolls, and looks down upon the “girly girls” who dress up like princesses and seem obsessed with makeup. The book takes Liz from her infancy up through her adolescence and into her later teen years, tackling friendship, bullying, dating, and other rites of passage. While it focuses primarily on Liz’s struggle with her gender identity, the book is also a story about family and art, much like Sisters is.

Liz’s preferred method of gender expression didn’t make things easy for her. While attending Catholic school, she was forced to wear a dress for monthly mass, and it was tortuous. She was teased a lot, called derogatory names, accused of being a boy or a lesbian (and these were definitely accusations from her tormentors), and never felt she fit in. She wanted so desperately to be “one of the boys,” but the boys wouldn’t ever allow it, and of course, she never felt like she fit in with the girls.

Savvy readers will pick up on the fact that Liz herself pigeonholes people, buying into the very system that she rails against. At one point, she reads about a girl in a magazine who describes herself as a tomboy, but this girl wears a pretty dress to go on a date with a boy, and Liz instantly decides this makes the girl not a real tomboy. Liz puts boys on a pedestal, believing their interests and values are more worthy of respect than girls’ interests and values, and this is part of what drives her desire to not be a girl.

Near the end of the book, Liz meets Harley, a woman who forces her to realize that she’s unwittingly become a part of the problem, too. She’s placed boys in one homogenous group and girls in another. Through Harley’s guidance (plus Harley’s encouragement of Liz’s artistic skills), Liz learns to see herself as a girl and embrace that identity, even if she doesn’t express that identity in traditional ways. This realization opens a door for Liz, allowing her to finally accept herself and settle into a personal identity that brings some happiness rather than discontent.

While both Sisters and Tomboy are about growing up as girls, they’re also about growing up as girls who like comics. These kinds of books are especially important for artistic girls who have a passion for these kinds of things that are often relegated to the field of “boys’ interests.” I can just imagine a pre-teen or teenager becoming inspired by Raina or Liz, seeing them struggle and emerge victorious. After all, the books are proof of the victory!

This should resonate with teens who struggle with gender non-conformity,
even in relatively minor ways, and get them to think more deeply
about the damage caused when we label people as one thing or another. Fitting in is the perennial topic for teens’ books, and for many, it’s a struggle that dominates their lives for years. Finding your place, your people, your passion is hard, especially when it seems everyone is out to stop you from doing it. Even those teens who express their gender in traditional ways usually have trouble fitting in elsewhere, and consequently, they should have no trouble relating in some way to Liz’s story.

Liz’s age through most of the book, the themes addressed, plus some minor swearing and drug use make this a memoir best suited for teens. When Liz finally finds her people near the end and is able to develop her passion for comics, it’s a gratifying moment. I think it’s a moment that happens to a lot of teens right around the time it happened to Liz. It gives the book a nice coming-of-age arc and provides satisfying closure. This is a stellar example of what the graphic format can do – it’s accessible, insightful, and fun to read. Highly recommended.

Finished copy provided by the publisher. Tomboy is available September 2.

Filed Under: Graphic Novels, review, Reviews, Uncategorized, Young Adult

Sisters by Raina Telgemeier

August 26, 2014 |

I’ve found that I prefer my nonfiction in unconventional mediums – via audio, in short snippets on the web, or in graphic novel format. This past weekend, I dug into two stellar graphic memoirs, both of which tackled growing up as a girl in America: Sisters by Raina Telgemeier and Tomboy by Liz Prince. I planned to review both in this post, but because I love you, dear readers, I’ve split them into two posts (I got a little wordy, as often happens). Come back tomorrow for a discussion of Tomboy.

Sisters is a companion book to Smile and tells the story of a summer road trip taken by Raina, her little sister Amara, her little brother Will, and her mother. They drove from California to Colorado to visit aunts, uncles, and cousins when Raina was around 14. Interspersed among the events of the road trip are musings on Raina’s initial desire to have a little sister – and the reasons Raina felt this was a terrible mistake once it actually happened.

The book focuses mainly on Raina’s relationship with Amara, covering the road trip in a linear way and flashing back to various other moments in time: Amara’s birth, Amara as a toddler, Will’s birth, and so on. Every girl’s relationship with her sister is different, but they almost all share that lovely combination of love and intense dislike. Sometimes your sister will be your best friend; sometimes she’ll be your arch enemy. If you’re lucky, by the time you’re both adults, you’re solidly on the friend track most of the time. When you’re both kids, though, it’s an uneven, rocky trail.

Telgemeier rounds out the story with a few other elements: Raina’s relationship with her cousins (not great), her parents’ relationship with each other, her father being laid off, her interest in comics, and so on. There’s a great scene between Raina and her older male cousins where Raina expresses her interest in drawing comics, naming some of her favorite strips (For Better or for Worse, Foxtrot), and her cousins laugh it off as “not real comics” (like Batman or Hulk, according to them). This is such a simple and realistic way to address sexism in comics and how difficult finding and advocating for your passion can be when you’re a kid. I’ve no doubt that a conversation much like this actually happened.

As a child who went on numerous summer road trips with a brother and a little sister to visit cousins who weren’t always so nice to me, this was instantly relatable. It’s also funny. I laughed out loud at the story Telgemeier tells of her little sister’s pet snake getting loose in the van and living for days without dying or being caught (Raina is, of course, terrified of snakes, and Amara uses this against her). I have stories like this from my own family’s road trips, too. One of my parents’ favorite stories of sibling bickering on road trips involves one kid telling a parent about another kid: “Mom, she’s looking out my window!” (Apparently, we felt that we not only had our own seats in the minivan, we also had our own specific windows.) It’s funny now, but I know we were dead serious then.

Telgemeier has a magical way of making the mundane seem extraordinary. Nothing that happens is fantastical or unusual, but it’s riveting anyway. It should speak quite strongly to big sisters who look on their little sisters with equal parts fondness and aggravation (and vice versa!), bringing to light that contradictory fact that you can love someone and hate her at the same time. There are insights about love and kindness, sure, but it’s not saccharine and she never hits the reader over the head with a Message.

Telgemeier traffics in nostalgia for adults my age – there are references to battery-run Walkmans and a conspicuous absence of the internet or cell phones – but doesn’t allow the book to wallow in it. This is still a book for kids who are kids right now – kids who are forced into close proximity with their siblings who they may not have a lot in common with for a long period of time, whether that’s on a road trip or sharing a bedroom or enforced “family game nights.” It’s about how you get along (or don’t) with the people life has thrown at you through no fault of your own. It’s a lovely middle grade memoir about family with Telgemeier’s trademark expressive, cartoon-style art, and it should find a wide audience.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Sisters is available today.

Filed Under: Graphic Novels, middle grade, review, Reviews, Uncategorized

Nonfiction on Audio

August 19, 2014 |

It might not seem like it, but I do read adult books occasionally – even adult nonfiction! It’s rare, but when I do read adult nonfiction, I find that I enjoy it a lot on audio. Nonfiction is easy to listen to in pieces without losing the thread of the narrative, making it great for commutes or workouts or cleaning frenzies. Below are a few nonfiction books I’ve listened to in recent years that I’ve enjoyed. Do you find that you enjoy a certain type of book more on audio?

A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson
The basic concept of the book is this: Bill Bryson describes how the universe, and everything in it, came to be. This is a pretty tall order, but it’s precisely because he covers so much in so little space that he manages to keep the lay reader (or listener) interested. He covers the big bang, evolution, plate tectonics, ice ages, and volcanoes, among a dozen other subjects. He also talks a lot about the people behind the major discoveries and includes a few funny stories that show just how odd (or just plain human, really) scientists can be. The book is never dry or boring, but it also doesn’t give the reader a full picture on any one subject. It’s a fascinating look at science for non-scientists and would be especially great paired with the the recent tv series Cosmos. Bryson’s narration is fantastic, bringing out the humor in book. The experience is also tailored to the listener, not the reader. By this I mean that whenever the text read “If you’re reading this,” it was changed to “If you’re listening to this.” It’s a nice touch that iced the experience for me.

On Writing by Stephen King
King’s well-known writing memoir is part autobiography, part meditation on the craft. By marrying these two concepts within the book, King makes the act of writing both personal to himself and accessible to his readers. King’s life is interesting but also ordinary in many ways – much like his fiction writing, which usually addresses how ordinary people react to extraordinary events. He narrates the book himself and does a wonderful job. I’ve read a few other books on writing (Bird By Bird, Crafting a Life) and this is by far the best.

When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris
Sedaris’ books are (almost) always winners. I first listened to his books while in library school and have been hooked ever since. Sedaris’ essays are funny, often raunchy slice-of-life stories that frequently put me in stitches. Sedaris himself is perfectly suited as the narrator. He relates his stories with a dry, almost deadpan tone, which enhances their humor. I know the veracity of his stories has been called into question, but they’re funny and thematically true even if the events themselves didn’t strictly happen in the way described. This volume is his sixth and may be my favorite.

Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg
I can’t say I thought this was the feminist manifesto of our times, but I’m glad I read it. It’s definitely part of our cultural conversation, which means I can now converse intelligently about it with others. I agree with a lot of the common criticisms. It focuses almost entirely on the white, privileged, middle to upper class experience, and its central premise – that women can and should alter their behavior in order to get ahead or level the playing field – smacks of sexism itself. I particularly disliked the part where she counseled women to refer to us ourselves as “we” rather than “I” so we don’t come across as self-centered when in meetings or negotiations. Um, what? I’ll avoid that suggestion, thanks. She also calls for solidarity among women near the end of the book, seemingly at the expense of honest discussion and criticism. The problem isn’t women disagreeing with each other, the problem is institutional sexism – which also includes institutional racism, heterosexism, and so on. It’s all connected, and by avoiding discussing these connections, Sandberg’s book is only truly helpful to a few.

All that said, I did find parts of this useful or insightful. The one thing that really stuck out to me was how Sandberg encourages girls (and I mean those under 18) to be ambitious. I felt this very personally. I grew up without much ambition, I think. It’s pretty common in my field for the women to say they don’t want to be managers and the men to say that’s their ultimate goal, even while still in library school. This starts from a young age – boys are encouraged to reach for higher and higher goals, while girls are encouraged to hang back, told that ambition makes them unattractive or unlikeable. As a result, I do think it’s helpful for girls and women to be given “permission” in a way to be ambitious, to want more, to be confident they can achieve more, and to go for it completely. After reading this, I’ve found myself being much more open about my own goals (which are ambitious!) and encouraging other women to reach for more as well.

The narration, done by Elisa Donovan, isn’t great. Donovan speaks clearly and carefully, but she overemphasizes a lot of the points, making them come across as great revelations rather than just perfunctory statements. For example, Sandberg writes that women are more successful when their romantic partners are supportive. Well, obviously. This is not new. The way Donovan tells it, though, you’d think she were announcing a miracle.

Filed Under: audio review, audiobooks, Non-Fiction, review, Reviews, Uncategorized

Some Boys by Patty Blount

August 11, 2014 |

Grace was raped by the town golden boy, Zac. He’s a big shot lacrosse player and no one believes he’d ever do anything wrong. Everything Grace says is just an attempt to bring him down and the video that was posted on Facebook seems to show that Grace consented to what happened that night. Why would Zac be a rapist if it looks like she said yes?

Ian, Zac’s best friend and teammate, has always had a thing for Grace. At least he did. He knows now that Zac’s been with her, she’s off limits.

But now, Grace and Ian are both being forced to clean the lockers at the school. Grace because she continues to lash out at those who berate her for what she’s saying about Zac and Ian as a means of making amends for some of his own behavior that came out as a result of health issues he’s been having (there’s a plot line here about athletics and concussions). When the two of them are thrown together in this project, things change for both Grace and Ian. Both of them are tense guarded as a result of their relationships to one another and to Zac, but slowly, that begins to chip away as they talk to one another. And for the first time, perhaps Grace has an ally. Perhaps someone believes what happened to her.

Some Boys by Patty Blount is an exploration of rape culture. This book has a solid basis in reality, with shades of Steubenville echoing throughout. But what makes Blount’s approach a bit different is that her story is told from dual points of view. It’s an uneasy read, but it does a fair job of looking into the experience through the eyes of a girl who can’t be heard and a boy who experiences the effects of rape culture in an entirely different manner — as a boy and as a boy who happens to be extremely close to the guy who raped. Blount examines how a town can turn against a single girl who dares to say something happened to her and her body, especially when those allegations are against someone who happens to be held in high esteem. This is the other side of the “but those poor boys will have their futures ruined” story that the news loves to feed us, the one where we understand the implications of what it means to have your body violated and to have your story ignored completely because those poor boys and their futures.

There are very few books that look at rape culture in YA, and while this is a solid entry and one absolutely worth reading and discussing (and it should be read and discussed), it never quite cut as deeply as it could have. Sometimes when you read a book and you know it’s important, you accept elements of plot or character that are imperfect because you know what the story is doing or saying is enough on its own. But even knowing that the issue of rape culture here was well-done and that it’s a book that is more than worthwhile reading, I couldn’t help but see these things and feel like they could have been tightened, reconsidered, or not included at all in order to make a much tighter, more well-written book as a whole.

Grace’s mother really wants her to leave town and go abroad, to get away from the nightmare she keeps putting herself through by showing up at school and being ridiculed. While Grace chooses not to leave, which garners her mother’s support, it felt like it was always an option. It didn’t make her situation any easier, obviously, but it made me think about how privilege can be wrapped up in situations like this. That Grace chooses to stay in town and resisted leaving is huge and important — and it empowers her because she knows she’s right and she knows that she needs to continue having her life here — I wish that the element of possibility had never existed. It seemed unnecessary to even offer that out because it said to me that there was an out. I never got the sense of claustrophobia here because that was always in the back of my mind. It’s not blaming her for not leaving; it’s instead a question of why that was even offered up as an option. Had it not been there at all, I’d never have put it in my mind. But it was, so I couldn’t shake it.

My bigger issue with the book, though, was the fact this was set up as a romance. One of my biggest pet peeves in a big story like this is that a boy comes in and becomes the hero. It seems like an all-too-common response in stories about trauma, but it wasn’t until Ian came forth and said he believed Grace that anyone else so much as wanted to listen to her and believe she never gave Zac consent. While I thought Ian’s growth was great and while I thought he handled going against his best friend was believable, I so wish it hadn’t been a boy — one who had a crush on Grace, particularly — who had to be the one to stand up for her. To be the reason her story and her voice was validated. It spoke too easily to how the male voice is the one that’s believed and respected, not just in the story, but in our society on a larger level. Why is it girls can’t have such powerful allies in other girls? Why does that validation need to come through a boy?

More, I did not care whether Ian and Grace would end up together. The romance felt like a distraction and a way to talk around the bigger issue without addressing it head on. It was uninteresting. I cared so much more about Grace making it through than I did about Ian getting his prize at the end. Because that’s what it was: Grace had no romantic inclinations toward him for the bulk of the story. He, however, had plenty toward her. What’s maybe most bothersome about the romance in this story, though, is less how it’s written and more that it’s the selling point of the book. The tagline even tells us that one boy may be able to mend what others have broken.

To me this says a lot about our comfort in listening to a girl’s story for the sake of her story. Romance sells, even if it’s not the point of the book. Even if it’s the weakest and most unnecessary part of the book. I can’t help but think that it goes back to what validates a girl’s story. Here? It’s a boy who can mend the broken girl. Weirder that it’s a boy who went too far and broke her heart.

There’s more than her heart at stake.

This paragraph is spoiler, so skip down if you don’t want it. For me, the ending wasn’t believable. The apologies came too quickly in the end. Even when the truth came to pass, the pacing was off. The community’s decision to apologize and seek Grace’s forgiveness never felt authentic nor real. It could have been stronger had the story ended when the truth emerged, rather than allow Grace’s peers to even have the chance to redeem themselves. It would have been a bit more damning and a bit more realistic to how rape culture — at least how we see it in media — plays out. The ending here fell into the same trap that the ending in Tease by Amanda Maciel did: too easy, too much a neat bow on a package that deserved better.

Grace as a character worked for me. She’s tough, but she’s also not entirely silent. She’s not willing to be degraded and she refuses to take anything from anyone. At this point, she realizes she has nothing left to lose because no one cares about her anyway. That hardened exterior makes sense, and much of it seems to delve into her interior, too. She was more compelling and engaging for me than Ian, though Ian’s development was not lacking or problematic itself.

Although I have a fair share of criticisms for Some Boys, this is an important book for teens and for the adults who work with them. Addressing rape culture head-on is something we don’t see enough of, and we certainly don’t get the perspective of the girl who has been a victim enough. These voices and stories are important because they’re precisely what the media and our broader culture chooses to ignore in light of the poor boys who have their futures ruined because of their crime. We don’t hear about the girl who has been violated and who has to live every waking moment knowing that what she says isn’t as important as the futures of those boys.

Pass this book along to readers who like realistic fiction and anyone who has read the likes of Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson or similar stories about rape and sexual assault. Although it’s not out yet and won’t be until next spring, this book will be in excellent conversation with Courtney Summers’s All the Rage, which also homes in on rape culture and the way our society protects boys but spits in the faces of girls who are made victims of sexual violence.

Some Boys is available now. Review copy received from the publisher. Patty will be stopping by on Wednesday to talk a bit more about the story’s inspirations and how she did her research. 

Filed Under: review, Reviews, Uncategorized, Young Adult

  • « Previous Page
  • 1
  • …
  • 13
  • 14
  • 15
  • 16
  • 17
  • …
  • 20
  • Next Page »
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • Twitter

Search

Archives

We dig the CYBILS

STACKED has participated in the annual CYBILS awards since 2009. Click the image to learn more.

© Copyright 2015 STACKED · All Rights Reserved · Site Designed by Designer Blogs