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Genesis by Bernard Beckett

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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.

Marcelo in the Real World by Francis X Stork

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I know when I read book blogs sometimes, I wonder if people ever find a book that they just struggle through because they don’t like it, can’t get into it, or it just wasn’t meant for them. Every review they write seems laudatory, and perhaps they really do just like *everything*. I’m not one of those readers.

Marcelo in the Real World was the most difficult read I’ve had so far this year. It’s not a challenging text, but I found myself not engaging with the characters, not enjoying the storyline, and being frustrated with a theme that has been done a lot recently. Moreover, I found myself questioning the intended audience for the book and unable to really nail it down well.

Marcelo in the Real World is a story about Marcelo’s summer living and working “in the real world” of his father’s law firm. He had in the past been employed as a helper on a camp that caters to those with autism and aspergers. His father told him he had to take this job to become accustomed to working around every day people, as it was his goal to have Marcelo sent to a traditional high school, rather than the specialized school he attends. The deal between the two was that when Marcelo finished the summer successfully, he could choose where he would go to school the next fall. The book follows Marcelo’s adventures in the law firm, as well as some of the important relationships he forges with normally functioning people.

Throughout the blogosphere, there is a lot of praise for this book as a wonderful coverage of a young person handling his aspbergers. However, I found the treatment quite weak; this book seemed like it was another version of one of the many others on the topic or similar topics, and I think it was a much weaker coverage. Marcelo is a character who you don’t learn enough about to gain trust of or sympathy for, and I found the auxiliary characters even less enjoyable. The premise of the story seemed interesting enough, but the execution left a lot to be desired for me. Marcelo doesn’t seem to allow readers his struggles with aspergers which makes the premise a little tough to really connect to.

Audience-wise, I had a hard time placing this one. I’m not quite sure the intended age group, as I think that the theme is fitting for a younger teen audience — those who may relate to Marcelo’s cognitive age/state — but the writing itself and Marcelo himself are geared toward older teens who I don’t necessarily think would find the story all that engaging. I say this not because the book is poorly written but instead because there are many similar books that are written much stronger, with more developed characters and thicker plot lines.

Although I am a proponent of every book having a reader, I think that this would not be a go-to for me. I would rather offer, for example, Marc Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Siobhan Dowd’s The London Eye Mystery, or Nora Raleigh Baskin’s Anything But Typical. Each of those titles have better drawn characters and more engaging story lines than Stock’s book, but without a doubt, Marcelo falls into this ever-expanding genre of books about the poorly understood autism/aspbergers issues. Certainly, Stork’s book has found a good following of readers, as seen from the great reviews and the high ratings in both Amazon and Good Reads. But me? I struggled.

Forest Born, by Shannon Hale

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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.

Once Upon a Time in the North, by Philip Pullman

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I’ve mentioned before how much I love Philip Pullman and his trilogy His Dark Materials, so it comes as no surprise that I went into reading Once Upon a Time in the North knowing that I would love it. A few years ago, Pullman published a little red volume called Lyra’s Oxford, a companion to the trilogy that told a short story about Lyra set a few years after the events of the last book took place. Once Upon a Time in the North is a similar companion book, a little blue volume that tells a sort of prequel to the famous trilogy, focusing upon Lee Scoresby (the aeronaut from the country of Texas – Mr. Pullman knows how to flatter us Texans!) and how he came to befriend the great armored bear, Iorek Byrnison. The story is essentially an adventure tale about a corrupt politician, a greedy oilman, a seedy bar, a few hired killers, two pretty but very different ladies, and the cowboy who gets embroiled in it all. It has a distinctive Old West flavor (despite being set in the far, frigid North) and is written with the considerable level of skill I’ve come to expect from Pullman. This book is a treat for fans of His Dark Materials, who finally get to see how two of the most pivotal characters met each other. It’s also heartwrenching at one point, when Pullman makes reference to an event that will happen much, much later.

The story is only about a hundred pages, so naturally it left me wanting more. Still, it was a good way to tide me over until The Book of Dust is published (hopefully sometime before I die), and I’ve read there will be a third little green volume that tells Will’s story.

While I love audiobooks, listening to these books on CD would be unconscionable. Once Upon a Time in the North is a beautifully-made book, and it’s chock full of “extras” that require hands-on reading. Aside from the short story, the reader is also treated to two letters from Lyra concerning her doctoral dissertation, snippets from a manual on aeronautics, beautiful woodcuts by John Lawrence, and an honest-to-goodness board game in a pocket at the back, which I am going to coerce someone to play with me very soon. It has thick, high-quality paper and is all wrapped up in a beautiful cloth cover. It’s a perfect complement to Lyra’s Oxford, which contains similar extras, including woodcuts by Lawrence and a postcard from Mary Malone. Instead of a board game, the story about Lyra features a beautiful fold-out map of the alternate universe Oxford in which Lyra lives (pictured to the right). I have always loved the tactile feel of a book, but these volumes take my love to another level.

I’m interested to see how libraries deal with books such as these. At the library where I work, the copy of Lyra’s Oxford includes the fold-out map, but the copy of Once Upon a Time in the North does not include the board game. My local library, on the other hand, retains the board game as well as the map for patrons. I haven’t been able to get my hands on the library copy, so I don’t know if all the pieces in the game are still there or if the map has been torn.

I’ve always loved the extras that books sometimes have. When I was very into epic fantasy as a teenager, I’d pick the book with the map on the endpages over the book without the map every time. I especially loved it when the author’s world was so intricate and detailed, it merited a glossary at the back. Is there a particular book you’ve read where the extras really enhanced your enjoyment? How does your library handle books with easily torn components or parts that are easily stolen/lost?

11 Birthdays, Wendy Mass

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While Bill Murray may have been the star in the hit film Groundhog’s Day, it is Amanda Ellerby and Leo Fitzpatrick who play the lead role in Wendy Mass’s 11 Birthdays, which follows the two as they replay their 11th birthday over and over.

Amanda and Leo were born on the same day, just hours apart in a hospital in Willow Falls. Angelina D’Angelo, a woman who had lived in Willows Falls since the beginning of time, admired the two lovely babies as their parents first saw them in the infant room at the hospital. Angelina commented that she hoped those two would forever celebrate their birthdays together. And through a mix-up at a party location on year later, the tradition of Amanda and Leo celebrating their birthdays together began.

This happened regularly until their 10th birthday, when Leo made a comment that caused Amanda great anger. For a year, the two did not speak to one another. However, as their 11th birthdays begin, it will be a day that they relive over and over again — and it is only the two of them who realize this is happening.

11 Birthdays is a story that is tied deeply in family history and local history. Although the story sounds fairly simple, there are great layers buried within the events. Each of the small pieces of the first instance of Amanda and Leo’s birthdays ties in somehow to how they solve their mutual problems and come to each celebrate one of the best birthdays of their lives. It was enjoyable to see how each of them figured out what was going on when they kept waking up on their birthday, even after having celebrated it the day before; more enjoyable was the fact no one else around them seemed to have a clue what was going on.

11 Birthdays was much different than I initially expected, and it was much better than I anticipated. This is the second book by Wendy Mass I’ve read (the first being A Mango Shaped Space) and I found both of her books to be the same way — the jacket description and initial impressions were far surpassed when the story concluded. In fact, when I began this book, I was frustrated with how unlike an 11-year-old Amanda felt, but as the story progressed, I couldn’t help but think about how very much like an 11-year-old she really was. I thought the story as a whole was well-paced and did not kill the concept as it repeated itself. Each instance of reliving the day was unique and fresh, and I thought that the descriptions and scenarios were cute and silly enough without being over the top.

Without hesitation, I would give this book to girls 9-13 or so. It’s a definite tween title, and I think that it will appeal to those who enjoy Mass’s style. While reading it, I couldn’t help but think that Amanda and this story reminded me of Lina from Diana Lopez’s Confetti Girl — another title that definitely falls into this realm of squeaky clean, humorous, but touching titles that meld realistic fiction with an element of imaginary play.