STACKED

books

Why Aimee Bender can never disappoint

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One of the first things we did when we began this blog almost a year ago was introduce ourselves by our favorite books. Mine was, of course, the delectable Girl in the Flammable Skirt by Aimee Bender. This is a collection of strange but memorably depicted stories with lush images and semi-fantastical settings. No matter how many times I reread some of the stories — in particular, “The Ring” — it still as fresh as the first time I read it.

When I saw Bender had a new book coming out soon, I knew I had to get my hands on it. Luckily for me, the folks at Random House had galleys of this title at PLA and my entire trip was made by that alone.

But I digress.

Just as I’ve come to expect from Bender, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake is a very strange story. Rose is 9 years old when she begins to realize she’s different; it’s a different she figures out upon biting into her mother’s lemon-chocolate cake. Rose can literally taste the emotions her mother had when making the cake. This won’t be the only time, either. Every time she tries to eat something, she can taste the emotion within the food, down to the feelings of the factory workers who packaged the food.

Rose can’t tell anyone about this, either, for fear of being the weird child. Her brother had been the golden child of the family, and while she and her brother had a good relationship, it’s her brother’s best friend George with whom she becomes close and spills her secret. George, the ever-Scientist, tests the theory of tasting emotions and it is through this that he and Rose develop a relationship — one that Rose can’t seem to develop with her own family.

If it sounds a bit Like Water for Chocolate to you, I promise it is an entirely different story. I’ve read LWfC but never once made the connection until a friend pointed it out to me.

Bender’s story is emotionally draining, despite the fact you are never once inside Rose’s perspective. Her story explores the deep secrets of families. We’re led to believe that Rose’s father is a normal person, but it is a secret that spills near the end of the novel that we find out Rose’s condition may actually be quite, well, ordinary in the context of the family. And we come to learn that Rose’s ability to taste emotion doesn’t work when she eats food she herself has made. Instead, she feels empty.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake is a literary work, ripe with rich language and metaphor. Rose’s emotional emptiness is a great exploration of the Edelstein family structure. The food in the novel itself is palpable. There is attention to every choice of word and language use, right down to the point that Bender chooses not to use quotations for dialog. This is conscious and makes complete sense in context of the characters and the story as a whole.

I am so excited that Random House chose to share galleys of this title. I think Bender is an under appreciated writer, and I think this particular story will have great appeal. I can see good book discussions about this title; despite being quite literary, it is a very easy read and quite quick, as well. According to the back of the galley, the final product will include a book discussion guide and will have significant outreach to book clubs.

While the book doesn’t release until June 15, 2010, I have a feeling there will be a lot of buzz about this title and every bit is well-deserved. These are strongly developed characters with a big of magical realism that is so characteristic of Bender’s style. The poetic language begs to be read over and over, too.

For those of you who haven’t read Bender or need something to tide you over, check out this selection of her short stories. I had been passed the link, but I didn’t realize that “Bull” is actually a sequel to “The Ring.” She’s well worth the investment of time and energy, though you will find yourself absolutely transported to strangely familiar worlds. Perhaps The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake will bring the attention deserved to such a different style of writing and writer. I won’t say it’s better than GitFS, but this is a great door opener to that collection and its follow up, Willful Creatures.

Field Notes: The Karma Club by Jessica Brody

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What happens when a girl goes to a spiritual retreat after being dumped by her cheating boyfriend?

The Karma Club: a way to make sure those who do bad also get the bad back at them.

Debut author Jessica Brody’s The Karma Club is a story of girls getting revenge on the boys (and girls!) who’ve done them wrong.

The Karma Club is a readalike to Suzanne Young’s The Naughty List, though it is not an intentionally humorous and at times borders on didactic. The ending wraps up a little too tidily, though that will certainly appeal to a number of readers. The story itself is cleaner, with very minimal language issues.

This is a contemporary book, with references to Facebook and text messaging. Themes include karma and revenge, as well as relationships and how social status can impact those relationships.

Though far from perfect, Brody’s book is an easy read — one I read in an hour on an airplane. It is not a fully fleshed but that will be the big draw for many readers. Reluctant readers may find this a good choice, as well. As mentioned, fans of Young’s book and fans of Elizabeth Eulberg’s The Lonely Hearts Club will find this an excellent reading choice.

The Karma Club publishes in May by Farrar, Straus, & Giroux, a Macmillan imprint.

(Is it me or does it seem this is a cover that’s a double? Anyone know its twin?)

Every Little Thing in the World by Nina de Gramont

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A couple years ago, I was enchanted by the cover and description of a book called Gossip of the Starlings by Nina de Gramont and purchased it. This was, of course, a big deal since I am not a book buyer.

Although that book ended up being less than I hoped, I was excited to see that de Gramont would be releasing a teen book this year — GotS featured a prep school girl, and I had the hopes that when aiming to reach the teen audience, rather than the adult audience, the story would come together a little better.

Every Little Thing in the World delivered.

Sydney Biggs has been getting in more and more trouble lately — and when she and her best friend Natalia steal a car, that’s the end of the rope for Sydney’s mother who decides she needs to spend time with her father while they figure out a punishment.

While away, her mother and father decide the best means of punishing her for her poor behavior is to send her to a summer camp in the wilds of Ontario, Canada. The lessons in self sufficiency and survival should help her learn to be more responsible and think through her actions. As Sydney calls Natalia to break this news to her, Natalia lets Sydney know that she, too, will be joining her.

Oh, and Sydney is pregnant but she hasn’t told anyone except Natalia.

Every Little Thing in the World follows Sydney as she not only spends an extended period in the wild but as her relationship with Natalia changes. Once best friends, their time on punishment has really changed how they relate to one another and to other people their age. Then there is the issue of the pregnancy, which tears the two of them apart and pulls them back together at the very end of the story.

While the story itself is not the most unique or necessarily the most well developed — a number of jumps in time and in plot, particularly near the end of the story, were not cohesive with the pacing — the writing is excellent. de Gramont has a talent for strong writing and attention to detail and syntax which makes the bumps in pacing almost forgivable. In addition to the pacing, I found that the mother and father figure in the story weren’t fully fleshed and the ending made her mother especially flat.

Perhaps the biggest strength in the story is the development of Sydney as a character. When the book opened, I didn’t feel that connected to her, nor did I find myself caring too much about the predicaments in which she’d found herself. As the story progressed and as tensions rose between her and Natalia, I found myself really caring about Sydney and about what she was going to do about the pregnancy. As readers we’re led to believe a couple of different things about this issue, and the way it ends both is and isn’t expected.

Every Little Thing in the World will appeal to those who enjoy realistic fiction and coming-of-age fiction. Fans of Amy Efaw’s After will eat this one up for sure. There’s quite a bit of language and situations that will be a turn off to those who prefer cleaner reads, but I think the writing itself makes this a worthwhile read.

Although I found Gossip of the Starlings a let down, I think de Gramont has found her voice in young adult fiction. She writes a strong, realistic 17-year-old in this story and I think that Sydney’s voice will be relatable to teens who find themselves in tight spots. I read an interesting interview de Gramont gave on one of the blogs where she discussed the epilogue in the story. Having read the interview before the book, I read it a little more critically, and I have to agree with de Gramont completely: it could go either way. It both works and could work without being there.

So, though this title contains a lot of what we see in teen lit — especially the pregnancy, trouble-making teen — read this one for the writing and for the character of Sydney. I think this is an easy cross-over title for adults, as well, who may already be familiar with the author.

Audiosynced: When the narrator doesn’t work

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In the effort to keep abreast of the hot titles circulating and in hopes of making it to my local library’s book club (which didn’t happen), I finally got hold of Katherine Stockett’s The Help on audio. Notice the “finally” in that statement, and you will understand why I didn’t make it to the book club.

I’m still not quite done with listening to it, as it is 15 discs long. It is, as Janssen put it, a quick read but because I’m listening, it is taking longer than I’d hoped. But, I’ve heard enough to discuss a little about what’s working and what isn’t.

The Help, for those of you in the dark, is a story told through multiple voices about being “the help” in 1960s Jackson, Mississippi. Skeeter, a white woman, is interviewing the local help to write her first book, and presumably, the help — African American women who do the housework for wealthy and/or helpless white women — are giving her insight into their lives. Stockett’s story uncovers a myriad of worlds within worlds, and the story itself is fascinating as it is at once the story and a story about a story. The voices and the setting are engrossing and engaging. And, obviously, since it’s southern fiction, I’m pretty much in love. It’s quite a painful story, but it is done so tactfully that it never feels like it panders or lessens the real issues at stake.

On audio, there are multiple narrators: Cassandra Campbell, Octavia Spencer, Bahni Turpin, and Jenna Lamia. Does the last one sound familiar? It should.

Let me say, I think this is absolutely one of those books that is better read to you than read silently. The narrators really set the scene and with their deep southern accents and their dialects, it is unmistakably 1962 Jackson, Mississippi. I’m finding myself falling into the story deeply and really caring about each of the characters. I feel along with Aibilene and Minny, as well as Skeeter. In the scene with Minny in the bathroom after discovering why her employer has been so sullen, the audio heightens the tension and the fear and shame in a way that would no way compare in print. This was a moment I literally needed to stop the car and stare off in shock because of the utter emotion the audio imbued in the scene.

Though I’m mostly enamored with the audio, there is one thing bothering me: Jenna Lamia’s performance. She was amazing on Saving CeeCee Honeycutt as an 11-year-old girl. But in The Help, she plays Skeeter, a 23-year-old college graduate and she sounds identical. Her voice is much too young and immature for the role; even though Skeeter IS immature, the voice is not quite deep enough for me, and I find that this is impacting the experience of the book itself. Readers for Aibilene and for Minnie are so strong and spot-on with age, location, and race, but Skeeter stands out in a less-than-spectacular manner.

Despite Lamia having a large part of the book, I am going to continue listening for the sheer pleasure that listening to the book has brought into the story itself. I’m afraid that Lamia’s earlier performance has tinged my listening to her, but I do think even without thinking about her as an 11-year-old, I’d still believe the voice is much too young for this story. Though she’s a hot name and does a fantastic southern voice, I think that the reading could have been better done by someone else.

I often wonder if I had made the book discussion, whether or not anyone else listened to the book rather than read it. I think that the book groups who can talk about the listening experience would have a great additional element to discuss when it comes to the story itself. Who reads and how they read it really does make a huge difference, and for me, I’m going to remember this book for being 2/3 well read and 1/3 a bit too juvenile. I do have to say, though, I am very glad that the producers didn’t rush this one out as soon as it became a hit. It’s clear as a listener this was a well-planned audio book production, as there are no quality issues with sound or rendering. It flows smoothly and it is quite easy to follow whose perspective we are in.

Have you listened to this one? What do you think? Do you think your experience with the book would have been different with a reading versus a listening?

Split by Swati Avasthi

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Confession: I’ve been pretty disappointed in a lot of the highly-hyped young adult novels that have been published so far in 2010. I did fall in love with Some Girls Are, but other “heavy hitters” like Before I Fall just flopped for me.

Fortunately, Swati Avasthi’s Split delivered.

Split is an issue novel, and it delves into family violence and abuse. Jace is a high school student who lives under a very abusive father, who happens to be a big named judge in Chicago. Jace’s mother and he struggle with living with his father, but neither feels they can quite escape from the situation. That was the case until Jace’s mother let slip the address of his long-since-gone brother Christian. Christian left the family years ago to escape the violence, unafraid of what the consequences might be.

Jace decides he has to get away, too. But it’s not quite what you think: Jace’s reason for needing to get away in that moment isn’t necessarily the abuse his father doles out. Instead, it is something much deeper and something that will ultimately change the course of his newly emerging relationship with brother Christian and Christian’s girlfriend Mirriam.

This book worked because the issues were dealt with in a manner that was quite realistic. I think that the voice worked for the older teenage boy very well, and I think there was just enough fantasy in his actions — fantasy in the means of solving issues or letting them solve themselves — was spot on.

Moreover, the issue of abuse is tackled tactfully and without making it either overwrought or light hearted. The issue is two-pronged, as well, and I think that Avasthi does a great job of getting to the deeper psychological issues of abuse. Let me step back for a second and say that this book shouldn’t be considered simply an issue book; it’s incredibly well-written that moves fluidly and smoothly in the way that Laurie Halse Anderson’s does in Wintergirls. I would not, however, compare this book to LHA’s, as it is not as unflinching and quite rightfully handles the abuse issue on a different level. That is, there is an entirely different story line here, though the audience for both may be quite similar.

What didn’t work for me in Switched were some of the subplots. I thought that introduction of running as a theme didn’t quite work as smoothly as it could have. It’s introduced a little too late into the book to make it effective. Again, let me go back to LHA and say it didn’t do quite what running did in Catalyst.

I found the last quarter of the book a little hard to follow. There was a lot going on, and I thought some of it was unnecessary or a bit under developed. Avasthi keeps her book to about 250 pages, but I think in the interest of furthering some of the relationships and events that happen in the last quarter of the book — including Christian and Jace’s reconciliation, their relationship with their mother, and Jace’s confessions to the new girl in his life — would have allowed easily for 50-75 more pages. I wish this were stronger, as this was the most critical part of the book but felt like a bit of a let down.

If you like strong writing and an interesting premise that unravels page after page, Switched is one you want to pick up. Avasthi is a fresh voice in young adult writing, and I am excited to see what she does next. She writes believable characters and has developed character relationships that aren’t flat or uninteresting (and in fact, they’re often a bit surprising how they do come to solidify and change). This was easily one of the best books published for this audience so far in 2010, and it is one I daresay should get some attention come awards season. A refreshing one to read after quite a few less-than-exciting reads.