Hall of Records

Red Country

There isn’t really much to say except: if you liked the First Law trilogy, you NEED to read Red Country. I really could stop at saying just this: THE BLOODY NINE!

Just like this. Completely devoid of context. That should be intriguing enough for anyone familiar with the name to pick this up. I guess that everyone has already, though. I was late to pick up Red Country. For reasons. Then again, it wouldn’t be fair to neglect mentioning some of the fantastic stuff Abercrombie has woven into his latest tale.

I was a bit reluctant to read this. Well, not really, because I could not really conceive of Abercrombie failing to entertain. But I wasn’t thrilled at seeing Red Country marketed as a Western. Back when I was a child and watched everything that on on the four channels we received, I loved me some good (translation: awfully cheesy) “cowboys and Indians” stories, always rooting for the oppressed (in my view always the Indians), always close to tears when on of the horses were hurt. Bit those times are long past and I’ve lost my taste for dry, dusty Westerns.

Still, Red Country drew me right in. I picked it up with the intention to read a few pages and then check out another book in the to-read pile to determine what I might be in the mood for and 200 pages later I got up to get a glass of water, the other books completely forgotten, but my throat parched as I tracked along with the Fellowship through the endless country I search of a new future, unfathomable riches, and great adventures.

I strongly believe that Abercrombie’s magic is encapsulated in the dialogue, besides the general, all-pervading snark. He paints a deft picture, the world building and character development and all the other cornerstones of supposedly good story telling are aptly attended to, but it’s the characters’ conversations (and their internal monologues – and dialogues - in equal measure) that make the characters come to life before my mind’s eyes. Of course, if the characters were bland or one-dimensional that wouldn’t be an easy feat to accomplish, but Abercrombie has those covered as well. He just knows how to make you feel and hope for them despite their inevitable flaws, how to turn your expectations upside down to suddenly root for a character you hadn’t taken much stock in up to then or to wish for the demise of one you had ranked among your favourites until a moment ago.

So, when we first meet Shy South, she doesn’t strike as a particularly lovable heroine. Her treatment of Lamb, their relation being undefined at that time, doesn’t much endear her either. But there might be a history to her attitude, so let’s read on. And yes, I get it, it’s a hard land, it’s a hard life, it hardens the people who try to wrestle a living from it in more than one sense. Maybe we’ll get to see a softer core in time…

When Shy and Lamb discover that while they were trading in town their farm has been burnt down, their farmhand/friend hanged, and Shy’s two much younger siblings kidnapped, the tale gains steam, turns into a veritable whirlwind as they pick up the kidnappers’ trail and decide to follow it with a never-wavering determination to get the kids back. Not a whirlwind n the sense that it’s super action-packed, one battle following another (though there are quite a number of battles, skirmishes, duels etc fought in the incomparable Abercrombie style). But what appears to be a slow track across the Near and Far Country, is filled to the brim with revelations (mostly for the attentive reader/fan), confrontations, betrayals, alliances, encounters with enemies new and old, and the forging of unlikely friendships.

Red Country is always intense. It’s (almost) always funny (if you like the snarky tone as much as I do), even in its gruesome scenes. There are some breathtaking moments when you find yourself clenching your fists and your jaws whishing for the protagonists to find a way to persevere.

In a way, it’s also a book on economical well-being. I’m sure there’s a thing or two to learn from Shy South, if you’re inclined to be ruthless. Kidding, she’s only looking out for herself and hers and manages to do a good dead and help others in the bargain. A veritable heroine after all.

I swiftly read my way through the novel and reached the very satisfying ending thoroughly entertained and with the desire to revisit the First Law trilogy, Best Served Cold, and The Heroes.

Saga 2

My only complaint with this second volume is that it’s simply too short. I want each and every instalment in this series to consist of at least 600 pages! Is that too much to ask?

Obviously, Saga 2 continues where the first Volume left off and it doesn’t lose stride. The characters are brilliant, the story gripping (and still lightly confusing because everything is so FANTASTICAL), the artwork resplendent in its beauty, and the creators’ imagination knows no bounds. Luckily, there’s not as much of the weird robot prince in this one. He creeps me out a fair bit. I found Marko a bit dull and boring in comparison to the other characters, but the flashbacks to his childhood more than make up for what he lacks (for me) in the present. He’s just a bit too sensible in the face of the weirdness surrounding him. Never mind his being bloodsoaked in the cover. :)

I love the languages. Are they speaking actual Esperanto on Wreath? Doesn’t matter. I love that it was so easy to get the meaning even though it was so different from English.

So, when’s the next one coming out? And can it please be longer? At least three times the length of this Volume?

I spent a thoroughly enjoyable time with Saga 2 and I want MOAR, pretty please.

Damn Him to Hell

This was still quirky, action-packed fun, but I fervently wished a copy editor had paid closer attention to weeding out the endless repetitions, inconsistencies and downright mistakes. If I have to read one more time how Tina is going on about her hair being all lustrous thanks to Saturn awarding her for damning her boyfriend to hell, I’m going to pop a vessel. I’m not senile. I’ve got it the first dozen times she mentioned it and I fail to see the hidden meaning however often she chooses to bring the topic up again. I might be a bit touchy on that because I know far too many people who tend to tell the same stories over and over again (regardless of how inconsequential and boring they were the first time you were forced to politely listen to them) despite their audience’s assurances that they’ve heard them before, just because they are either enamoured with the sound of their own voice or feel a pressing need to prostrate their own specialness with no regard to whether anyone is at all interested in hearing them – or both. I really don’t need to be subjected to this kind of self-importance from fictional characters. Their false humility is making these obvious contradictions even more annoying. And unlike nattering colleagues and assorted acquaintances and family members I can shut up the fictional nuisances by flipping the book covers shut. So. There. Main rant over.

There also were some glaring mistakes that made me question my ability to read and follow a story line. At one point, Andre, Tina’s former boss and contender for sexy times, says that Gloria Vanderventeris his grandmother. If this were true it would create a whole new set of complicated relationships. But it is not. Gloria is the grandmother of Max and Dane, Tina’s ex-boyfriend and his cousin. And it was made quite clear earlier on that while Andre’s family were personally acquainted with Gloria and her family, they were not related. I have no explanation how or why that line even got in there. To sum up, having to re-read this passage several times to clarify whether the mistake was mine and what could be the underlying implications of such a development and coming up with nothing, really through the pacing for me.

Luckily, the story pulls you right back in. Not everything makes complete sense. In fact, very few things do. But that doesn’t really matter that much, since the loony Baltimore Zone and its colourful inhabitants provide an entertaining break from the usual. The characters are quite distinct, even though not nearly as much space is devoted to physical descriptions of anyone but Tina. When she doesn’t get carried away eulogising about her own assets, she swoons and drools over the three likely candidates to have a sexual relation with. However, all minor characters are easily recognisable and they all maintain their mystery. Whether they are part of the tight-knit Zone population or one of the villains. Well, there are some nameless goons that are completely interchangeable. But that’s hired goons for you, cheaper by the dozen. I’m not saying that the characters are well-rounded, though. There’s still a lot of room for development and improvement and if played right, this could turn into a long lasting series, the groundwork is decently laid and an interest in the characters established.

The plot twists and intrigues are following one another at a brisk pace and they fit all right, if one is not too discerning a reader. :o) There’s plenty of possibility for future adventures. Even though Tina looked a bit more into the Saturn’s Daughters business in Damn Him to Hell, if time permitted and she wasn’t completely busy rescuing Zone inhabitants and unveiling sinister plots or lusting after one man or another (she’s quite capable of doing all three things at once, this multi-tasking heroine), she didn’t come up with much new and I didn’t mind at all because I mostly had fun following her escapades without the lectures on mythology and mysticism. If she’d only shut up about her great hair, great LEGS, GREAT BOOBS, GREAT …!

Oh, and I love that the evil, chemicals spilling, people abducting, illicit experiments conducting corporation is called Acme. I got the Looney Tunes’ song stuck in my head a few times.

Interworld

Three months ago I saw that a new book by Neil Gaiman titled The Silver Dream was out and being the fangirl that I am, I ordered it without a second glance. When I held my copy in my hands a few days later, a closer look at the cover revealed that it was “A sequel to …”. A sequel? A sequel to what?!? Interworld? Hang on, that sounded familiar. And I realised that I’ve been given this for a birthday or Christmas a couple of years ago and it had been sitting on my shelves unread since, because I hadn’t been in the mood and hadn’t immediately liked it when I got it. Now that I had bought the sequel, it was time to set this right and give Interworld another try. So I started reading it hoping that the book and I would have a better chance to connect this time around.

My reading went all right, but I had to be strict with myself and tell me to finish the book and not abandon it for the sake of any of the books beckoning from the to-read pile. So, I read it quickly and was mildly entertained and dissatisfied in equal parts. Something appeared to be missing. It’s hard to put the finger on what annoyed me exactly, but there was the nagging feeling that Interworld and I didn’t click, or rather, that the hero, Joey Harker, and me were not on the best of terms. Mostly, Joey’s “specialness”.

I certainly missed the self-deprecating humour I’ve come to love in Gaiman’s characters and despite all of Joey’s proclamations to feeling guilty and his dogged acceptance of being an outsider, his steady climb to the top and establishing himself as a leader was rather counterproductive to any endearing underdog image he was trying to maintain. And it grated on my nerves. He goes on about the superiority of the knowledge he acquires at this special InterWorld academy and how much more sophisticated the education he receives is as compared to the one provided in his homeworld’s  schools, where he had trouble to keep up – because he’s so special and his brain works in special ways far above the average teenager’s. Yeah, I know, I’m reading things into it that were neither said nor intended, but he came across as rather self-important and trying to hide it to keep the readers' sympathies. He also seems to be THE CHOSEN ONE, responsible for protecting and saving the multiverse from all kinds of threats and evils. He certainly isn’t alone in this enterprise, but the fact that his companions are one and all different incarnations of himself and that he’s the most-coveted Super Walker, for reasons that seem rather forced and phony, doesn’t really help in making him less self-important. Also: He continually sets himself above those other Joseph Harker versions.

The concept of parallel universes, where magic fights with science to gain the upper hand in controlling worlds was quite intriguing but the execution, sadly, rather bland. The world building was okay, but not compelling or convincing. The villains were a bit clichéd, to say it euphemistically. The ease with which Joey shed all his ties to his former life and his family made him seem shallow, superficial, and even a bit cold-hearted.

I think I light the mudluff, Hue, best of all. Joey treats it like a pet even though it saved his life on more than one occasion. Given the secrecy of the organisation/ Walker school, their laxity in determining Hues’ purpose is disappointing. I understand that there are “more pressing issues” to attend to, but the authorities’ proclivity to eliminate the things they don’t understand and perceive as a potential threat seems at odds with their acquiescence of Hue’s presence.

At times it felt like the authors were trying to cater to the geeks by generously including references to all kinds of geeky popular culture. I have to admit that this usually works for me, but it wasn’t enough to win me over this time.

I will give The Silver Dream a fair chance, hoping that questions will be answered, characters will be given a little bit more distinction than the simple description of their physique and particular skill set, and that Joey will become less of a special snowflake and more of a valuable , well-rounded, member of a team. But it will have to wait. First, I’ll read The Ocean at the End of the Lane, because I’m convinced that in this, Gaiman will confirm once again why I love his writing.

The Collector (Dante Walker) by Victoria Scott

The tone of this novel is certainly different: that is, the first person’s narrative deviates from the usual first person female heroine perspective presented in most of the novels targeted at young adult audiences. And as welcome as such a change is in the light of how much so many of these heroines annoy me, I cannot say that I cared much for Dante Walker’s narrative either. He was intended to polarise, for sure, and readers were probably expected to grow to like him more as the story progressed and his character “developed”. I actually didn’t feel the dynamic between Charlie, the “assignment”, and Dante. I liked his interactions with Charlie’s friends, Blue and Annabelle, best. I also understand that Dante had to come to terms with his changing perceptions, convictions, and feelings himself. It left me strangely cold is all. Well, not that strangely, really, because it was all a bit too repetitive for my tastes.

The Valery/Max storyline was sweet but all too predictable. Again, it was probably intended for the readers to catch up on this long before the narrator realised the connection, wrapped up as he (Dante) is in his own conflicting feelings and desires. He is quite self-absorbed and over-confident and he carries these traits like a shield – for reasons, of course. He feels the need to cover up his feelings of guilt [over his father’s death, as we learn late in the novel] and his vulnerability. So he prances about basting his invincibility and disdain for human beings. Because he’s a collector, working for the devil himself, bring him souls he did his part in leading astray and over to the “dark side.” Actually, one of the issues I had with this novel was what was considered to cause a smudge on the purity of one’s soul. Yes, being mean and callous and cruel and derogatory would earn you a demerit. That’s fine. But what would ultimately help Dante completing his assignment, namely harvesting Charlie’s (the purest of the purest) soul, would be her having sex. So, sex is bad and will lead you to an eternity in hell? Underage sex? Out-of-wedlock sex? What is the message here? Even if Charlie feels she’s in love with the one she’s having sex with, she’s doing something bad, is being defiled (or letting herself be defiled – because there must be some sort of agency for punishment to be dealt out, right?), is losing her purity and turning evil? I get that Dante is an Agent for evil and will not likely react to meanness with kindness (as illustrated by the retail guy’s hurtful comments about Charlie that Dante punishes with a dark stain on his soul). However, there must be some set of agreed-upon rules that would allow for someone having sex being tantamount to losing a big amount of karma points.

And this hypocrisy and bigotry weren’t the only things that made my brow furrow. There were a number of things that didn’t make sense to me and that kept niggling at me the whole time. The whole time line is one thing. The arch of events takes place over a time of ten days. So much is supposed to happen within these TEN days, relationships develop and deepen, road trips are made, secrets uncovered, and so on and so forth – and it’s a school week, too! There should be such an immediacy but it all feels kind of languid. I also didn’t understand why Dante would be one of only a handful of the devil’s collectors, the master collector who trained the remaining four, no less. Dante himself hasn’t been dead for that long and the devil’s been around for quite some time, last I heard. I would have expected the devil to have some buddies and sidekicks around from way back. Maybe that’s not his style. Maybe collectors have particularly short half-life period or something. Maybe the all turn out like Dante?! There’s a thought. Makes me almost pity the devil. To be honest, though, I’m afraid that this just wasn’t thought through.

Maybe the reasons behind Dante’s meteoric rise among the devil’s ranks will be explained in a later book, but I’m not likely to find out.

I got rather bored reading this. And it was a bit too lovey-dovey for me. I couldn’t even get excited about the big fight scenes. I don’t see myself picking up a second book in this series.

Freshmen

I always have incredibly high expectations when it comes to any product put fourth by someone from the Whedonverse, and when one of the co-creators of a comic series is named as Seth Green, they set off like a sky rocket.

While I liked the premise and the very colourful artwork, I just didn’t connect with any of the protagonists, didn’t get sucked into the story, almost wrinkled my nose at the immaturity of some of the story’s aspects (ME?! Dismissing something as immature?! IMPOSSIBLE!) – but ultimately failed to fully appreciate the story because of Annalee Rogers and her big, enervating superiority complex. I got to severely disliking her condescending psychoanalysing of fellow freshmen early on and she didn’t redeem herself in my eyes by being some kind of here. I like myself a flawed hero, someone who is far from perfect, who has doubts, who makes mistakes, whose character is morally questionable, but Annalee was just too much to stomach, probably because I had sinking feeling that she was the hero readers were supposed to identify with. Well, no. scratch that, that was obviously Norrin, the only “hero” without superpowers. Still, Annalee’s ever appearance enraged me too much to enjoy the comic and to probably give it proper credit.

Seriously, the story is incredibly violent, the protagonists are pretty flawed, one and all, some aspects are whimsical and quite humorous – all attributes I usually adore in my reading. However, the most amusing parts were the endorsements by Sarah Michelle Gellar:

“If I ever were to read a comic it might be this one.” And one for the second volume “Freshman II? Why isn’t it called sophomores?”

And by Joss Whedon: “Super powered teens, angst, action and comedy…I don’t get it.”

This somehow doesn’t seem enough. If I treated “Freshmen” as an introductory Volume whose main purpose is in establishing the different characters, heroes and villains alike, I might feel inclined to pick up the second volume just to see where this is heading. I’m not so sure I will, though. Not if there are so many other series to catch up on. It’s a shame really, because the garishly colourful artwork is right up my alley. The colours almost hurt my eyes. :-)

Revival

I’m not really into zombies but that’s quite irrelevant since there are no zombies in Revival. Only a couple of people in Wausau, Wisconsin who used to be dead and then came alive again one day – much to the surprise of those who were prepared to bury or cremate them. The local citizens call them “revivers” and are trying to figure out how to deal with their newly revived relatives and the unwanted media attention they their suddenly animated state has brought to he little town of Wausau.

There are numerous questions. Why are they here? What is the meaning and their purpose? Are they good? Are they evil? Why did only these people get revived but no one else, no one who died at a later time, not even those who were (accidentally?) killed by the revivers? Most importantly, how does being alive again affect their psyche? And: ARE THEY EVIL?!? ARE THEY JUST BIDING THEIR TIME BEFORE THEY KILL EVERYONE???! What’s up with the super-fast healing, even of wounds that should be fatal? What’s up with the re-growing teeth? TEETH! There’s powerful symbolism there, I’m sure. And what’s the role of the creepy exorcist/demonologist guy? And when’s the next book coming out?

I can hardly wait to read more about what is going on in Wausau, Wisconsin. February 2012 turns out to be a splendid month considering the graphic novels I chose to pick up.dering the graphic novels I chose to pick up.

Fables 18 - Cubs in Toyland

Yes, this is what I signed up for when I became addicted to the Fables series. I was literally biting my nails reading this, thinking “no, they wouldn’t do that, there will be a different outcome to the story” and then “I can’t believe they actually went through with this! When did I forget that these are not stories for children?!” It totally took me by surprise. I’m so delighted that the authors managed to confound my expectations.

It’s impressive how Willingham always finds a new myth to introduce and seamlessly weave into his story. Even though I gave a high rating to the previous books out of sheer love for the series on the whole, I admit to having started to have doubts and to worry. For me, it’s back on track now and I’m as eagerly anticipating the next instalment as I used to.

Saga, Volume 1  

Wow. Absolutely freaking wow! That was simply fantastic! The artwork, the storytelling, the characters, the world building, the history and character’s background stories were executed excellently. I gobbled this up. I fell in love with every single aspect of this graphic novel. I have so many questions and am ever so looking forward to the next instalment. July, is it? Pre-order, check!

The Woman Who Died a Lot

And yet another one of Fforde’s creations that I thoroughly enjoyed. Having lost her ability to read herself into the Book World after the accident that almost killed her, Thursday Next is read to join the work force again. Not as head of the newly reinstated SO-27, as she had originally hoped, but as Chief Librarian of the Wessex All You Can Eat at Fatso’s Drink Not Included Library Services. My initial disappointment at the apparent lack of Book World related adventures, I was quickly mollified by the sheer awesomeness of the library world.

There is so much going on this book that my brain was never given a chance to relax for a second. A major plot line evolves around the mind worm given to Thursday by Aornis Hades, introduced in the previous instalment in the series. Since I’m usually excessively annoyed by editing mistakes and habitually starting to complain the moment I believe to have discovered one such glitch without bothering to read on, I read this passage several times before moving on and realizing how wickedly clever a device Fforde uses in this seemingly erroneous dialogues:

’I wouldn’t have Joffy’s job for anything,’ said Landen as we watched them go. […] We had a business manager and a team of lawyers, but Landen liked to read through most things so he knew what was going on. ‘Hispano-Fiat are interested in bringing Tuesday’s Micro Kinetic Battery system to the market in under six years.’ ‘I’m not surprised. Has she agreed to it?’ ‘With the usual non-military rider. Do you want some chocolate? I’ve got a bar hidden at the back of the fridge.’ ‘Go on, then.’ I got up and went through to the kitchen, where the fridge door had been left open, something that Friday tended to do these days. (page 90)

(view spoiler)[It takes several more paragraphs before it becomes quite clear to the reader that the mind worm has changed hosts, from Thursday to Landen, and later on to Tuesday. Of course, the reader is then aware of this at all times, whereas the protagonists have no idea that anything has changed at all. We also get to suspect much sooner than the family that Aornis is much closer than they expect.]

The mind worm and Aornis and the search for her whereabouts are only one aspect of this novel that is brimful with brilliant ideas and observatins.

The imminent smiting of Swindon by God who revealed himself (yes, HIMself!) as a consequence of Thursday’s brother’s successful attempt to unify religions is another prominent strand of he plot, deeply intertwined with her daughter’s endeavours in creating an Anti-Smiting Shield.

The other big plus of Global Religious Unification was collective bargaining power. Before, dialogue with the Almighty was unclear and centred around unworthiness and mumbling inside large buildings, but following unification the GSD was in a strong position to ask clear and unambiguous questions of the Almighty, such as ‘What, precisely, is the point of all this?’ Unfortunately, this angered His Mightiness as theological unity was emphatically not part of His plan, and a series of cleansings had taken place around the globe…(page 80)

The library world kicks ass and Thursday soon is in the middle of crime and stupidity once again. Phoebe Smalls who got to head SpecOps in her stead and who was introduced as a possible new nemesis or, at least, as a thorn in Thursday’s side, soon learns to rely on Thursday’s experience and expertise and also turns out to be a great asset in Thursday’s endeavours. The two of them make a great team and I hope to see more of them teaming up on the bad guys in future books.

There’s a lot on time travel again, since the disbandment of the ChronoGuard which Thursday’s son Friday would have headed in a different future plays another great role in this book. The philosophy on time travel, cause and effect theories, dimensions, the universe (why, everything!) is purely stunning and mind-bending at times. For me, that is. At one moment, it all makes perfect sense to me and at the next I’m completely baffled and don’t understand a thing. Then again, all my time-travel knowledge/philosophy is based on Back to the Future and Terminator, the theories on cause and effect of the former being perfectly logical to me, those of the latter leaving my brain in knots if I think about them too much.

I would love to add a dozen more of my favourite quotes, but I realize that they wouldn’t make much sense if taken out of context and I could never even try to explain what Fforde has done here. It’s a great novel, a more than worthy follow-up to the previous books.

Oh, and did you suspect that Karl Marx might have been Neanderthal? “He was exceptionally hairy.”

Shadows on the Moon - Zoe Marriott

It’s no secret that I do not always share the views of the people I follow here on goodreads, but nevertheless feel compelled to read a book that has received widespread acclaim. More often than not I enjoy the enthusiastic reviews of my fellow goodreaders more than the novels themselves. And that’s quite all right. I like one-star reviews of books I loved and gushing reviews of books I found mediocre at best, because they all serve to broaden my mind. And I’ve learnt to keep my expectations in check.

However, if an author is stating her intention and goals at the very first page of her novel, and makes me giddy with joyful anticipation, she better follow through on her promises. When I read that Zoë Marriott never liked Cinderella, because “she seemed like the worst kind of wimp to me, and I hated the fact that she needed someone else to come along and rescue her,” I am expecting to read about a kick-ass heroine instead. Editors and publishers wouldn’t let her put a statement like that in her preface if they didn’t believe in the power of the novel and its heroine, would they? There are enough people out there, and I’ve met a few of them, who claim to be great cooks or singers or whatever and once you’ve experienced their alleged genius and thought “overconfident much?” you don’t know how to break the news to them that not everybody shares their high opinion of themselves. And you know that telling them would only upset them so you keep your mouth shut, look at your wrist, and tell them that you have to go. Cowardly? Yes. Self-preserving? Probably. But it’s the job of editors and publishers to be honest with authors for their own best. Right?!?

While, Shadows on the Moon was a entertaining and pleasant, at times even thought-provoking, read, it didn’t come close to satisfying my needs provoked by the author’s initial claim.

Hallowed

A rather generous 3-star rating. 2-2.5 would be more to the truth...

For a book I really didn’t like all that much, Hallowed surely had me thinking an inexplicable lot over the past couple of weeks. I guess I’m trying to figure out why Clara annoys me so much and whether or not it’s fair to give a book a lower rating just because I can’t empathise with the supposed hero of a story. I usually don’t mind unlikeable protagonists all that much, I even have a thing for well-written anti-heroes. It’s entertaining to read about their mishaps and waiting for them to get what is their due. There is even a certain appeal in seeing them get away with all the nasty things they do and say so you can indulge in hating them with a passion and fervently wishing for them to finally get their comeuppance. And there are novels written from a first-person point-of-view that were done quite well and convincingly. Clara is not that kind of anti-hero, she isn’t designed to work that way. However, she continues to annoy me to no end, because she seems to see herself in a far more favourable light (must be her glory!) than I could ever delude myself to do. And in my opinion, her alleged demureness and feelings of guilt are just smarmy attempts to endear herself to the readers. She really seems to believe that she is being selfless and considerate about other people’s well-being when it’s really all about her feelings and desires and future and everyone else has to cater to her needs. Pathetic! She is terribly self-centred and selfish but casts herself in a heroic role.

Clara’s mother keeps a lot of valid information from her children, probably to protect them and with their best interest at heart but effectually endangering them instead out of a misplaced sense of shame. So, there is this dying woman that I cannot help but feel angry at. I was wondering the whole time whether she took the slightest interest in what was happening to her son. With all this obsession about her daughter’s destiny and all the discussions and planning centring around Clara fulfilling her destiny, did mom stop once to talk with Jeffrey? It’s quite clear that Clara is her favourite, but what is Jeffrey? A demon spawn best left ignored?

It’s also funny how Angela is painted as the shallow, elitist one (by her best/only friend Clara, no less), when it’s actually an apt description of Clara herself. I’m willing to forgive Angela for all the shortcomings Clara pins on her. I was continually suspecting Angela to somehow betray Clara and the other angel-bloods, but that might never happen and Angela’s whole function might be to serve as someone Clara can compete with and feel superior to. The whole “I’m more angel than you are” schtick did not sit well with me, especially not when there is such a sudden surge in ¾ ones.

I will read on only to find out more about Samjeeza’s story and to see what will become of Jeffrey, if they authors chooses to expand on these characters at all. I really don’t give a fiddler’s fart about Clara hooking up with either Christian or Tucker. Who cares? Well, a lot of readers seem quite invested in the question, but I really don’t give a fig. Neither would be my recommendation, but maybe get a life, a sense of responsibility, a personality and some compassion instead.

The Friday Society

This is a fun read of the fluff variety. If you were looking for deep thoughts and philosophy, you wouldn’t pick up The Friday Society, but if you are looking for an adorable trio of independent (even though all three of them are in some kind of servant position to a male adult, nothing kinky, mind), adaptable, strong-willed and fast-thinking vigilantes trying to solve crime (that the police are uninterested in or incapable of solving) in a turn-of-the-century steam-punk London, this might keep you entertained for a while. There are some passages that drag on and more critical readers will be able to list numerous flaws, I’m sure, the characters of Michiko, Nellie, and Cora are nicely fleshed out. While light on actual steam-punk elements (as well as turn-of-the-century ambience), the use of the newly discovered cavorite, a mineral that can be used to defy gravity, was a great means to introduce all kinds of improbably inventions and will enable Kress to create a very special world of her own. The protagonists work in their own right and will form a great team, each equally and significantly contributing to the teams success.

The Friday Society works best as an introductory volume to a series. The actual amount of narrative allotted to he girls working together is rather small compared to the time Kress’ takes to introduce and characterise each one individually. There is room for this to mature into an interesting and entertaining series, but this is a good beginning.

Everbound

So instead of sitting around and moping preparing waiting for the inevitable, Nikki Beckett gets up off her arse and takes some action. I liked that and thought that Everbound was off to a good start. And it didn’t disappoint …much. I certainly liked this better than Everneath but most of my quibbles with the first book in the series continued to bug me in this instalment.

I understand that Nikki is really focussed on keeping Jack alive through their shared dreams and finding a way to rescue him from the Everneath for good. However, I’m tired of her going on about her remorse about not yet having attempted to fix the relationship with her father and brother. I find it strange that she talks about the twinges of conscience at the strained relations at length, but doesn’t even seem to try. It almost felt as if Ashton didn’t know how to integrate this part of the story into her narrative, but feels compelled to mention how important a point this is. Maybe it’s there to create additional tension (or maybe it’s just a compulsory feature of YA literature). Whatever it is, it’s not quite working for me, because it feels so disconnected. Nikki’s dad trying to get her to go to therapy sessions might not feel as unnecessary if she didn’t get to do what she intends to do after all, if the obstacles were greater, if she were really risking a rupture in her relations.

I still can’t make head or tail of Nikki’s relation with her (former) best friend Jules. What’s up with Jules. I cannot shake the feeling that there is something sinister about her. Is there more to her watchful distance than her concern for Nikki and Jack or the (romantic) feelings she might be having for Jack, or for either of them for that matter?

Nikki really takes a lot of things for granted without second-guessing people’s motives or intentions. She’s focussed and driven, but also terribly oblivious to what is actually being said and done. She only seems to question their behaviour for a moment and dismissing any qualms she might have in order to single-mindedly pursue her goals. She’s a postponer, filing away anything that seems strange or noteworthy in the back of her mind for later reference and investigation at a later time – when it might be most likely be too late. She wonders about jack’s changed physique but doesn’t stop to get to the bottom of this. I bet there’s more to it than is hinted at in Everbound and I wonder why Nikki does not seem worried by the change. It’s probably just the relief at having Jack back though.

The ending is probably supposed to prepare the reader for the big showdown in the third book, but it was rather anticlimactic for me. I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t even particularly interested. If there were further development in the minor characters of the Queen, Jules, and Max, I might be convinced to read on.

Nikki, please do get an army to take on the Everneath next time!

All in all, I did enjoy Everbound a great deal more than I did Everneath. Then again, I wasn’t in such a morose mood this time around, but I doubt that my personal self-pitying moping had that great an effect on my reading pleasure the last time.

Pirate Cinema

Actual rating 3-3.5 stars, +0.5 Doctorow fangirl bonus added

Having re-read Little Brother a few months before starting Pirate Cinema and finding it just as enticing and engrossing as the first time around, this book had its competition cut out for it. Poor book!

It took me quite a while to get into this. Up until around page 150 I was undecided whether to read on at all, which was mostly due to the fact that I kept comparing >Pirate Cinema with Little Brother. All the similarities between the two novels notwithstanding, Pirate Cinema’s main protagonist, Trent McCauley (alias Cecil B. DeVil), is no Marcus Yallow. Marcus is a real, if reluctant, hero, someone who already knows a shitload of stuff and is able to forma coherent plan to act against those who are trying to oppress him and his peers. Much the same as Marcus, Trent is forced into an adventure by means of a faulty legislature, if not to say a corrupt government, that supports the rich and powerful with no regard for the effects the laws they’re passing will have on the majority of the people. Unlike Marcus, Trent is not a strong character at first. He runs away to avoid the consequences of his actions, which were simply thoughtless but considered criminal larceny by the law, even though he tries to justify his leaving as an attempt to protect his family from further recriminations.

Anyway, once the story’s pace increased, I enjoyed it immensely. I still had my qualms about Trent as the unlikely hero when every single one of the supporting characters seemed to be better prepared for the role, but as a coming-of-age story Pirate Cinema works quite well. The story is set in a very near, frighteningly real future London. The technical lingo is easy to follow even for someone like me who doesn’t know the first thing about video editing. I was never quite sure about the slang Doctorow uses here. It didn’t seem to come naturally, but I cannot possibly be a judge of that. It felt a bit forced, but the stiltedness was part of the alter egos Trent and his fellow squatters assumed, so what? It’s quite possible that I was supremely prejudiced and tried to find fault with Trent. Since he’s pretending to be someone else, this might have been intentional after all. I liked how he tried to become politically involved and empathised with his frustration as politics’ inner machinations revealed themselves.  

I was again confronted with my distrustful nature. All the time I expected someone from the gang to betray the others for fear or profit or whatever, (view spoiler)[but that never happens].

The question of what is art and whether or not legal boundaries apply to the creation of it is repeated almost ad nauseam. I do, of course, agree that there is no way to create someone truly original, because everything has already been done in one way or another, but that creatively recycling and rearranging ideas and concepts is just as worthwhile and can be considered art in its own right. Just look at all the memes that float around the internet. They mostly have no connection to the original films or videos they were taken from, or even reveal their meaning in juxtaposition to the original oeuvre and they are bloody brilliant. Is it art? Is it copyright infringement?

So, while not as mind-blowing and heart-stopping as Little Brother, I still believe that Pirate Cinema is worth a recommendation to those who like their own paranoia increased by being shown what Doctorow imagines the future will have in store for us. :)