"When you give a girl a library card..."
Beware readers, here be spoilers!
The Moon and More [Dessen]
I've read several other Dessen novels and I generally enjoy her sweet summer romances. I was particularly interested in this book because it's set in the same sea-side town as
Keeping the Moon which is my favorite of hers. There was a disappointing lack of overlap between the two stories which I suppose is understandable but it means the main reasons I love
Keeping the Moon weren't present and without those factors I struggled to care as much for these characters.
The Moon and More is a little unique for Dessen in that the main character doesn't end the book in a relationship which was somewhat refreshing [though mostly because I didn't really like either relationship she ended up in during the story]. All in all,
The Moon and More slips neatly in among Dessen's other books, if somewhat underwhelmingly.
The House at Tyneford [Solomons]
While reading this novel I discovered that I have a predisposition to anticipate infidelity and adultery in historical fiction. I'm not sure why that is, but it is, and it follows for the other historical fiction books in this list, which is a little annoying.
That being said, there isn't any infidelity or adultery in
Tyneford which was a relief because there definitely could have been some funky stuff. Elise comes to Tyneford from Austria to work as a house maid as a means of escaping the atrocities of WWII [being a Jew, though in genetics only]. Predictably [sorry, but it is], she falls for Kit, the heir of the estate but the presence of the war means that not all young love ends happily. Amazon's description is pretty spot on in relating this book to
Downton Abbey and you can expect similar glimpses into the lives and cares of upstairs and downstairs folk as questions of loyalty and family are explored.
Perhaps it's because I struggle to grasp how close England and France are to each other or maybe it's a fault of the book but I couldn't really picture the fly-overs that residents of the valley become accustomed to as the war progresses. Elise treats these events with such casual acceptance that it removes most of the threat I'd expect to feel at seeing enemy aircraft flying so low over your home. I struggled also to really connect with Elise in general. She felt flat and child-like for a girl of 19 and while there is character development over the course of the novel it feels muted and glossed over which leaves the meaningful scenes feeling distant and lacking meaning you think should be there. Overall, a pleasant read but not incredibly memorable.
Sarah's Key [de Rosnay]
This book jumps back and forth between Sarah [a ten year-old Jewish girl in 1942] and Julia [a thiry-something journalist in 2002] and explores events and consequences of the Vel d'Hiv' round-up in France during WWII. It's called
Sarah's Key because when Sarah and her parents are collected by the French police that fateful night she locks her younger brother in a hidden cupboard and promises to come back for him when the police release them. But they aren't released. You can probably guess what that cupboard opened to. Those that witnessed that moment became a crucial key to the puzzle when Julia discovers the mystery and follows the trail of what happened to little Sarah. It's a pretty gruesome premise, though the Vel d'Hiv' - a plan formulated and carried out by the French police without instruction from the Nazi party - was a gruesome point in France's history, but the moment her brother is discovered is not as graphic as I was afraid it would be. Still traumatic, but not disturbing.
Sarah's story is compelling and heartbreaking - atrocities seen through the eyes of a child who loses everything they hold dear and then carries a burden that would break anyone. I was eager to read as Julia uncovers clues and secrets long buried by people and a nation that wants to forget. Julia's own story, her marital issues, was less compelling. She came across primarily as indecisive on how to proceed with anything other than this mystery which ultimately propels the end of her marriage for her. You cheer for her when she decides to keep the baby that her husband can't contemplate for fear of realizing that he's growing old but I found myself more curious about how she continues with life after the novel ends than how it went during the story.
I have always been drawn to the events of the Holocaust and I know next to nothing about any part France played in that event so
Sarah's Key was educational in that respect and I applaud de Rosnay's commitment to explore secrets that a nation may be ashamed of. It's not a popular task, nor a comfortable one, but if we bury our weaker moments without facing them then the atrocity lives on.
Room [Donoghue]
Room is the story of the existence, escape, and life of Jack, a five year old boy born to a mother who has been held prisoner by a man a la Ariel Castro for seven years. It's not exactly a happy premise so it might sound weird to say that I really loved this book but I did.
Room is told through Jack's eyes which softens the abuse present in such a living arrangement because he simply doesn't understand. Born and raised in Room, Jack's mother has shielded him [mentally - by telling him that there is nothing outside of Room, and physically - from her captor by hiding Jack in a closet at night when he comes] for five years but Room is no place for a child, let alone his mother, and so Jack, the baby who saved his mother's sanity when he was born, becomes her savior once again.
Donoghue does an incredible job of interpreting this horrific scenario as well as the aftermath through the eyes of a child. Aside from some advanced vocabulary Jack's voice is convincing and compelling, especially is the conflict between him and his mother about whether Room or Outside is where they belong.
Room also explores more of the recovery portion of such an experience than we typically see in those few news accounts of similar real-life occurrences and the frustrations and struggles both Jack and his mother go through shows a deeper level of humanity that pulls your heart along on strings.
Room is not a book I would give to younger teens but the unique way in which the subject matter is presented makes it accessible to a much younger audience than any other book that touches on this topic.
The Forgotten Garden [Morton]
This is another historical fiction piece and the fact that the whole thing is set up like a mystery novel that spans five generations only adds to my assumptions about lurking affairs and other infidelity. While nothing really adulterous happens in
The Forgotten Garden, the familial drama that the mystery of Nell's history is founded upon is pretty screwed up. I mean, there were normal families in the 1800s right? Somewhere? Morton writes from three different character perspectives and on two different timelines for each character which gets a little confusing, especially as she jumps character and time period frequently to add to the sense of confusion and suspense.
The mystery is picked up by Nell's granddaughter who digs into the past to discover Nell's origins and the events that led to her being discovered on an Australian pier alone at four years old. You want Cassandra to solve the mystery because Nell had been so close herself before events prevented her from discovering the final clues but I struggled to care much about Cassandra herself. The women of each generation has their own story of heartache and struggle, Cassandra's being the death of her husband and young son some 10 years earlier. She has her own personal story arc, coming to terms and moving on, etc, but I found myself completely uninterested in whether or not she would find happiness again because I was so much more invested in getting closure for Nell.
Morton does plant a thorough maze to be navigated but the darker tones of the family's past scandals unbalanced the plot for me in a way that left me annoyed and dissatisfied even in the end.
Forgotten Garden is dense with symbolism and questionable moral decisions that I'm sure really suit readers who enjoy gothic novels, it just didn't suit me quite as well.
Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet [Ford]
Bitter and Sweet tells the story of first generation Chinese American Henry Lee who witnessed the deportation of Japanese families to internment camps throughout the west during the second world war, his forbidden friendship and love for a young Japanese girl, and his search for her years later. Ford tells this story alternating between 1940s and 1980s Seattle where Henry has spent his entire life minus a short span in China for traditional finishing school. The opening of the Panama Hotel, like a time capsule that has housed the belongings of Japanese families for decades throws Henry's mind back to his childhood and the standout character in it - Keiko. Having lost his wife to cancer, Henry makes the cautious decision to dig into a past he's tried to forget in search of a precious record that ties him to this old sweetheart he'd assumed to be lost forever. His journey encompasses his son and reflects on the inherited nature of parent-child relationships and how we take people we've known all our lives at face value. The voice of this story treads carefully and the weight of years feels almost tangible in the narration.
Bitter and Sweet gives another, and perhaps a more unique look at this period of American history and its impact on those people most affected by it short of being shipped off themselves. How we approach tradition, family, and change are central themes in Henry's quiet life and his reflections have a way of sticking with you.
The Glass Castle [Walls]
Walls' childhood was made for a memoir and reads like fiction. You find yourself constantly questioning whether the events you're reading could actually have happened to someone because the bizarre manner in which her parents approached life doesn't seem real. Doing "the skedaddle" from place to place for the first decade or so of her life, Walls and her siblings didn't encounter stability until their family moved back to her father's hometown in West Virginia and the stability they found there was the kind that erodes all of the daydream, fantasy, and excuses that convinced you your parents were simply "eccentric" and "explorers."
Glass Castle is a gripping read because you want to see how Walls' life turns out - how does a child survive a life like that? And while I spent the majority of the book bursting with anger at her parents for their sorry excuse for parenting and providing, it's interesting to see how Walls herself acknowledges the strong family loyalty and love she felt for them without shying away from their failings. It's an admirably mature look back on a life that is laced with events equally fantastic and horrific.
Half-Broke Horses [Walls]
In
Horses, Walls endeavors to tell the story of her maternal grandmother who's life was so varied in pursuit and experience as to be innately admirable. Told in her grandmother's distinctive voice, we follow her journey from the ranches of west Texas and Arizona to her time as a school teacher throughout the ranges of the west. Several years and a marriage based on deceit in Chicago send her back home with a larger view of the world as well as a deep-rooted distrust of men. Lily takes on the increasingly regulated school system, the tragic death of her sister, breaking and racing horses, learning to drive, and even flying lessons as her driven life rolls forward by her own determination to seize opportunities. Lily is remembered as a strong, stubborn yet fair woman who stood and fought for equality and the empowerment of women long before those movements had touched the desert west where she forged a life.
Horses is, obviously, set before
Glass Castle so it was interesting for me to go back in time and learn about Walls' grandmother. Walls' own mother had always asserted that her mother had been a tyrant, oppressive and overbearing, and that she wanted to be nothing like her. To see where Lily's daughter's account met with and differed from the facts as shown in
Horses recast
Glass Castle in a new light in my memory.
Paper Towns [Green]
I've picked up several of Green's books in passing before but never settled to read any for a myriad of reasons but with the movie coming out I thought I'd give this one a go. [I'm waiting to try
Fault in Our Stars until the hype for
that movie dies out some more] I'm not going to summarize much here because chances are a lot of you have either read this or are familiar enough with the upcoming film to know the gist of the story.
I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about this book when I'd finished it. Green somehow manages to write a story that has both profound commentary on how we view people, and fail to view them, and that feeling of "fluff" that I generally associate with the younger end of the YA spectrum. I love that he addressed the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope [and destroyed it so thoroughly] and Q's growth through that experience is satisfying although his narration feels older than that of a high school senior. I enjoyed his characterization of Q's group and more minor characters. Such detailed attention isn't often paid to the supporting cast of a novel like this but while I enjoyed picking up those tidbits they also felt somewhat superfluous to the story at large in a way that made me wonder if this was intentional on Green's part.
Paper Towns is a quick read and it poses many thought-provoking questions as well as taking you on a suspenseful ride with an ending that will come as a surprise to most. I'm curious to see how the movie interprets it.
Steelheart [Sanderson]
Guys.
GUYS. I got this book from the library for my husband to read and when he finished it he insisted that I read it. He's long been adding Sanderson books to my future reading list but this is the first of his that I've read aside from his wrap up of
The Wheel of Time. Guys, I finished
Steelheart two weeks ago and it's still blowing my mind!
Ten years prior to the setting of the story an event occurred that gifted everyday men and women with extraordinary powers but the world David lives isn't full of superheroes. Sanderson has created what would [unfortunately] probably be a more realistic outcome of such a fantastic event. Epics, as people call them, fight each other for dominion over those without special abilities. The world has devolved into fractioned territories and states, each ruled by it's own individual or group of Epics and no one fights back, except the Reckoners. This underground resistance is dedicated to discovering the weaknesses of Epics and assassinating them one by one. David's father was killed by Steelheart when he conquered what was once Chicago and David is determined to join the Reckoners. He needs them to enact his revenge but they need him too. Steelheart is, for the sake of brevity, a super evil Superman. With similar powers and invincibility Steelheart has reigned without serious challenge for ten years. His invulnerability is taken as cannon by most but David knows differently. The day Steelheart killed his father, David saw Steelheart bleed and he's determined to see it again.
Steelheart is a much darker interpretation of the superhero genre that Sanderson crafts with incredible skill. A blend of fantasy and scifi, this book builds you up with comfortable character elements and tropes before pulling the floor out from under you in a way that will leave you reeling for days. By the time the twists and revelations started coming I wasn't aware of chapter breaks anymore in my desperate need to inhale the last third of the book.
Steelheart calls up for debate the way we define heroism, evil, and human nature. I've probably done a fairly awful job of describing it but it has been ages since I've read something this honestly surprising, satisfying, and engaging and I strongly recommend it to anyone who has any interest in the fantasy, scifi, and superhero genres.
Steelheart is set as the first in a trilogy and I can't wait to get my hands on
Firefight but for those who are tired of the trilogy trend,
Steelheart can largely stand on its own. There are some loose strings to help lead into the next book but there aren't any obnoxious cliff-hangers that hold the main story arc hostage until you've read the whole set.
The Tenant of Wildfell Hall [Bronte]
Okay, I checked this book out with my original stack of 9 because it's what we decided to read for our book group [which meets tonight] so I should have read it first probably but I just finished it today. And man, it was a bit of a roller coaster! I've read
Jane Eyre before and I've seen
Wuthering Heights so I was curious to see whether Alice would fall closer to Charlotte or Emily and, thankfully for me,
Wildfell Hall is much closer in tone and morals to
Jane Eyre than
Wuthering Heights [which I regard with the same distaste as
Gone With the Wind. What can I say, I have to be able to sympathize with the main character] The best summary I've heard for
Wildfell Hall is that it's like
Jane Eyre meets
Pride and Prejudice which, having finished it, I can now say is pretty accurate.
It took me a little while to get into the story. As I've said before, gothic romance-era literature isn't my favorite. I struggle with the language used as well as the ridiculously long sentences that tend to crop up. The book is written from the PoV of Gilbert Markham, writing this history in letters to a friend. The first third of the book, where Markham becomes acquainted with Helen Graham, the mentioned tenant, felt a little long and overwrought but once he began transcribing the contents of the lady's diary [and thus detailing her history and how she came so mysteriously to reside at Wildfell] I became much more invested. Helen's life has been plagued with a husband who doesn't deserve the title and the vast majority of the story is about her relationship and escape from him. It's a tale of neglect and abuse that isn't exactly new but Bronte has constructed such a believable heroine who skillfully toes that line between being admirable and being overly good that you at once pity her circumstances and wish you could bear life's trials as she does. Suspense over the long-term happiness of Gilbert and Helen as well as several other characters is constantly thrown into question with suspense that is believable but happily vindicated. I'm still a total sucker for stories that end happily, as this one does, and I feel Bronte did a wonderful job of balancing the turmoil and trials of less happy books with positive turns that don't feel contrived or forced.
Wildfell Hall is chock full of religious references and imagery that didn't bother me, though those who are less religiously inclined themselves might roll their eyes at it. But I think it's this connection that, for me, makes the happy endings satisfactory. I don't believe that life is all easy and smooth. But while obstacles, tribulations, and misunderstandings can make a right mess of things, I do believe that those who strive to live as best they can with a perspective on the eternities, will be brought to points where their misfortunes and abuses will be recompensed. I'm excited to discuss this one tonight.
Now I am determined to
finally finish
A Memory of Light [Jordan/Sanderson] so I can put
The Wheel of Time series to rest!
