Book Review: The Gemma Doyle trilogy

Title: A Great and Terrible Beauty, Rebel Angels and The Sweet Far Thing

Author: Libba Bray
Year Published: 2003-2007

Genre: Young adult, supernatural, gothic, historical fiction

The Gemma Doyle trilogy is a supernatural Victorian boarding school story for young adults. That alone should tell you whether you want to read this series (for me the answer was, of course: hells yeah). There’s an indulgent, ‘comfort read’ quality about it despite its dark themes. While this normally would be fine for me, some of these themes weren’t your typical dramatic fantasy problems but rather actual real life issues. And that’s why I ultimately found the series problematic.

There are a number of seeming contradictions in the nature of the series itself, as if it is trying to be too many things at once. On the one hand, it's easy to luxuriate in the girly girl passages about the girls’ shopping expeditions and the social niceties of Victorian London – reminiscent of your Jane Austen type of stories, which the author references a number of times. On the other hand, there are plenty of gruesome ghostly things mentioned in the supernatural part. Then again, there are your ‘serious’ scenes describing family dysfunction, abject poverty and child sexual abuse – the latter of which I really wasn’t expecting in such a squishy sort of read.

There was so much going on that I felt that a number of these heavier themes shouldn’t have been included at all. Other than creating mood whiplash, I felt they weren’t given their proper dues. I kept thinking of the phrase ‘out of sight, out of mind’, as each ‘problem’ rarely transcends the scene in which it’s mentioned. For example, Gemma spouts a lot of pretty and ~profound~ insights about her dysfunctional family, but only ever seems to think about them when she’s in their actual physical presence.

While Gemma describes problems – particularly the ‘ordinary’ real-world ones – and how horrific they are, we can’t disagree; at the same time though, they’re given so little attention that there’s almost a passive tolerance of them. In this regard, it was Gemma’s musings on child sexual abuse that really made me irrationally angry – she talks as if she knows all about it, but then she doesn’t seem too bothered about it in the next scene, nor does she ever do anything about it – to be fair, I don’t know what she could do in those cases, but nevertheless I felt it made her concerns seem ungenuine.

Despite it being 1895, the behaviours and voices of the heroines are very, very modern. When the girls have ‘radical’ thoughts, it doesn’t feel very radical at all as they haven’t actually moved very far from who they already are. As for Gemma, well, her decision at the very end came as a surprise to me – her thoughts were so varied and unfocused throughout the series that it was surprising she even had that goal in mind: she never once mentioned it during the entire series.

Now, despite all my groaning, there’s still a lot you can enjoy in this series. I don’t doubt that a lot of people would be attracted to the gothic setting of the series, and there’s an indulgent pillowy quality you can get lost in – indeed, despite my misgivings I read all three books pretty quickly. This is the sort of series you let wash over you, without trying to keep track or think too much about, lest you spot the problems. There isn’t a lot of plot to be honest – it gets worse in the second and third books, where there’s more and more telling instead of showing, and the tale expands in breadth rather than depth. It seemed to unravel as things went on, and became a bit of a chore to read in the end. Be warned also that the ending isn’t exactly a happy one.

I did like that the main love interest was Indian, but I’m in two minds as to whether this series provides a positive example of non-white characters. There was surprisingly more sensuality than I would’ve anticipated, particularly given how simple the language is, so I’d probably say it’s suitable for those aged 13+. I was a little disappointed in the character development too – some of Gemma and Kartik’s relationship is retconned in the third book, and I was surprised to hear Felicity, Pippa and Ann described as Gemma’s “best friends” in Rebel Angels after their uneasy and bullying-tinged interactions in A Great and Terrible Beauty, as well as the fact that none of them seemed to actually like each other, except for Felicity and Pippa. I’m not sure what it says about me, or the book, but I found Felicity and Ann to be a lot more likeable and interesting than our heroine Gemma.

So in conclusion, I had a number of issues with this series – namely plot, character development and the handling of themes. It’s also very faux Victorian, if that’s something that will bother you. What’s left to recommend it then? Well, there’s an addictive quality in the writing, and an attractiveness in the mood and setting. There are also moments of great tenderness and poignancy, though these instances were too few and far in between. I don’t regret reading this series, but I doubt I’ll read it again.

Alex’s Rating: 2.5/5

Book Review: Chalice

Title: Chalice

Author: Robin McKinley
Year Published: 2008

Genre: Young adult, fantasy

Mirasol is a beekeeper and the newly appointed Chalice of the demesne. Inexperienced and untrained, she attempts to perform her duty while finding her place in the Circle, for as Chalice she holds the most important office of the twelve members. The story begins with the arrival of the new Master – a Priest of Fire who is drawn back home only because of the death of his brother. The demesne is suffering, and Mirasol tries her best to assist the Master, bind the Circle, and soothe the land.

The world that McKinley has created is a strange but compelling one. The magic and the governing structure of the Circle aren’t your typical fantasy clichés, and what is revealed of them throughout the book only leaves you yearning for more. Each tidbit about the world was revealed naturally and gradually, as morsels to be rolled around the mouth and savoured. However, this can be frustrating at the same time – you never find out, for example, what all the members of the Circle do. I’m not really sure how I feel about this: on the one hand, it’s annoying, but on the other, it’s kind of nice to be left wanting – the wonder and the mystery is preserved.

Not much happens, I’m afraid. What does happen happens very slowly, with a lot of ‘action’ taking place in the past and a lot of passages focusing on the bees and honey that form part of Miraol’s identity. Mirasol’s relationship with the Master is one of the key parts of the book, but at the same time, it feels underdeveloped. Strangely, you wonder how that can be. What they have is gentle, sweet and slow, and you can easily interpret their relationship as a platonic one. The ending is where everything happens, and it’s almost too sudden – despite the whole book leading up to it, I felt that there was not enough build up.

While not particularly exciting, Chalice is still a pleasant story, good for when you want to relax and wallow in something quiet and girlish. It’s the sort of book I’d classify as a comfort read – fantasy with a domestic feel and a gentle sort of atmosphere that lulls you. It’s not my favourite Robin McKinley, but it is very McKinley-esque.

Alex’s Rating: 3/5

Book Review: The Liveship Traders

Title: Ship of Magic, The Mad Ship and Ship of Destiny

Author: Robin Hobb
Year Published: 1998-2000

Genre: Fantasy

The Liveship Traders is the second trilogy set within the world of Robin Hobb’s ‘Realms of the Elderlings’, for which there are currently fifteen books. While you don’t need to know anything about the first trilogy – The Farseer Trilogy (a.k.a. the Assassin books) – in order to understand this one, The Liveship Traders contains major spoilers for its predecessor so you may want to read The Farseer Trilogy first. In fact, if you’re a fantasy fan and you haven’t read the Assassin books, don’t bother with this review and just go read them now. The first book is Assassin’s Apprentice. Go on. You can thank me later.

Anyway, back to The Liveship Traders. Though it’s comprised of three books (Ship of Magic, The Mad Ship and Ship of Destiny), The Liveship Traders is better characterised as one somewhat very large novel. To put it another way, what you have here are three books, each being some 900 pages long, none of which work as standalones – so be ye warned.

The name of the trilogy essentially describes its premise. In the Cursed Shores, there is substance known as wizardwood – a sentient wood that can only be sourced from the Rain Wilds. A ship built from wizardwood will “quicken” and come to life only after three family members from successive generations have died upon its deck. At the start of the trilogy, the liveship Vivacia is about to quicken – an event to set in motion everything else in the series. The plot is almost impossible to describe without spoilers, so pro-tip: don’t read the blurbs. The Liveship Traders involves multiple plots and characters and is a slow burn sort of deal in the bestest sort of way. If you like seafaring adventure stories, fantasy, and being patient, this is the series for you.

Hobb has built a fully realised fantasy world both traditional and unique; its features are rich but not obnoxiously so; everything in the world, from its seal hunters, its religions, its cultures and its magic, simply belongs. Hobb brings a spark to traditional fantasy elements like mythical serpents, to innovations like wizardwood and even to the small domestic rituals shared between Bingtown folk and the Rain Wilders. The Rain Wilds in particular inspire a sense of wonder – something all too often lacking in fantasy fiction.

In addition to a multitude of settings, we are witness to a multitude of points of view. As a sample of this variety, we have Wintrow, the boy in training to be a priest; Althea, the tomboyish daughter of the Vestrit family; Kennit, the ambitious pirate; Paragon, the mad ship; Ronica, the pragmatic Vestrit matriarch; Brashen, the disgraced Bingtown son; and Malta, the girl you want to smack in the face. Personal, political and fantastical plot lines are woven together masterfully for all these characters, and if you ever get weary of one story-line, you know that a fresh point of view is not far away. Similarly, there is a mixture of light (ooh~ island exploration~) and dark (sexual violence) material. The Liveship Traders is one of those rare series where the tone, plot, setting and characters are balanced, so that you rarely feel overwhelmed or underwhelmed by any one aspect.

My only issue was that the ending seemed way too unrealistic (and yes, I do realise this is a series about talking ships).

Being a human myself, I found it very hard to believe the way everyone just capitulated to Tintaglia’s demands – I mean, I understand why, but these people seemed happy to cause and ensure the eternal subjugation of their entire species forever. I may be exaggerating a bit, but well, as far as I can tell, this does not seem like people at all.

Well, most people anyway.

While this plot-point is a minor proportion of the story as a whole, it altered my esteem for the entire series – a series that, up to this point, had been pretty consistently awesome. Otherwise, The Liveship Traders wrapped up in a relatively satisfying, albeit open-ended way.

<Spoiler alert, obviously>

While this may be a tired comparison, I’d say that if you enjoy Game of Thrones, you’d probably like this series too. It’s similar in that it covers a broad scope of characters, settings and dilemmas and it’s different in that it’s actually finished. In any case, your priority here should be to read The Farseer Trilogy – not only will it enhance your reading of The Liveship Traders, but it’s also excellent. I mean, it’s less “balanced” than The Liveship Traders, but if I’m to be completely honest, its wildness is precisely why I like it better of the two.

Alex’s Rating: 4/5

Book Review: The Apprentice Journals

Title: The Apprentice Journals
Author: J Michael Shell
Year Published: 2013

Genre: Science fiction, Fantasy, Romance, Erotica

In the future envisioned by The Apprentice Journals, civilisation as we know it has been destroyed. Why? Because we humans were so caught up in our dead environments that we lost touch with the Elementals – spirit-like embodiments of the classical elements that make up our world. This is turn led to the Elementals forgetting all about our existence, meaning that when they had their giant, world-wide, non-human-friendly, natural-disaster-causing orgies, they sort of decimated mankind. In the new world order that emerges, some humans are born as Apprentices, people who have the power to communicate with Elementals and manipulate the elements. Apprentices to what, you ask? Well, the book never tells us. Those that “finish” their training are just called Finished Apprentices, so I’m guessing they’re Apprentices to Apprentices? Or Elementals? I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on. And that, incidentally, pretty much summarises my experience of The Apprentice Journals.

That said, my favourite thing about the book was in fact its magic system. Superhuman powers in science fiction tend to be mental in nature and a result of some sort of mutation. Here, however, we have a post-apocalyptic world with elemental environment-based magic. It’s pretty unique and also intense. From the first page you’re plunged right into it, which can be intimidating given how technical it gets, but after the initial weirdness and learning curve you get to appreciate how intricate it is. The magic stuff plays a major part in the book, so if you hate magic then this is not the post-apocalyptic book for you.

So the main character is a white dude named Spaul. He’s an Apprentice journeying north in what remains of the good ol’ US of A, for no obvious reason, but that’s cool, maybe he’s just like drifting or whatever. Along the way he meets a girl named Pearl, who’s black, hot and mute. That’s pretty much it. Well, a lot of things happen, but it’s hard to explain what the plot is, since all the ‘events’ seem like side quests to the main plotline of this northward yet directionless journey. A lot of time is spent travelling between settlements or chilling at the beach, but there are also occasions where stuff gets really odd – so odd it feels like you’re reading a different book entirely. There are abrupt forays into what feels like different genres or different times, and while this didn’t make for a cohesive world or story, it certainly kept things interesting.

Now, there are a number of issues I had with this book.

Let’s start with race.

So apparently, even in the post-apocalyptic world of the future, we have some old world race issues. Two things in particular almost made me choke when I read them. The first is town of Tara. Taking us right back to Civil War race relations, the town is essentially a black slave ranch run by white dudes, the leader of whom has a (hot) black woman on the side. The second is the portrayal of black people. If the “negra” being slaves weren’t enough, you also have Pearl’s father and the butler guy speaking like blatant stereotypes (“Hear that you l’il sheet-eater, Mistah Kurtz Missuh ‘Prentice gonna fix yo’ feets!” p25), though to be fair, the Irish guy is also stereotyped (“Aye, and yer a fishin’ machine, Spaul! Aye’ve never seen any so fast as ye!” p 54). I mean, you can also tell that the author has an interest in language, but what he does with it is not enough. The overall approach lacks rigour and the quirky bits feel half-baked. This makes the written-in accents – only present in black people and that one Irish guy – stand out even more, which is especially egregious given this story was published just last year. There is a huge focus on race in this book and it’s a problem because the topic is handled with very little sensitivity.

Here’s where I get to the sex.

I’ll be honest: from the blurb and the cover, I’d assumed this would be a young adult novel. How wrong I was! In the very first chapter, Spaul talks about “loving” some Fierae Elementals. Throughout the course of the book, he takes part in Elemental orgies, is offered sex/daughters, causes orgies, and last but not least, has lots and lots of sex with Pearl (or to be more precise, Pearl’s body – a whole other can of worms I won’t even get into). Strangely, it’s never super explicit. There are just orgasms: orgasms everywhere. The entire book was like one big masturbatory fantasy. This wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, but hey, if you’re after some white dude/black girl magic sex in natural settings, then take note.

What makes this situation worse is the fact that Pearl is so objectified – she’s the kind of character whom everyone thinks is gorgeous and whose items of clothing are meticulously described. I may be totally off base here, but my overall impression, from the sex, the idolisation of Pearl and the handling of race issues, was that the guy has a fetish. The Spaul character brings to mind those (white) guys who think they’re progressive for being able to appreciate the ‘exotic’ beauty of ‘foreign’ (non-white) women. I don’t know if I’m just being crazy here and reading too much into things, but that was my honest impression. I often felt uncomfortable reading the book and not in a good way.

To sum, reading this novel is like stumbling upon the weird part of the Internet: it’s unlike anything else you’ve seen before, it deals with something weirdly specific (and somehow sex-related), and it’s somewhat but definitely frightening for reasons you can’t quite explain. The Apprentice Journals is undoubtedly unique. While I really liked the “atmosphere” and magic system, the (human) world-building felt lacking and I’m not sure what to make of the strange “plot”, which, by the way, ends with sequel bait. I’m also massively leery of how the author handles race issues: it’s suspect at best and racist at worst. That said, this book is certainly an interesting read if only for its strangeness.

Alex’s Rating: 2/5
(Disclaimer: I received this book for free through Goodreads’ First Reads.)

Book Review: Love in the Time of Cholera

Title: Love in the Time of Cholera
Author: Gabriel García Márquez; English translation by Edith Grossman
Year Published: 1985, translation 1988
Genre: Romance, General and literary fiction, Erotica, Drama, Historical fiction

Florentino Ariza falls in love with the beautiful Fermina Daza, but just as the two are about to marry, Fermina breaks it off. Worse, she marries the prestigious Doctor Juvenal Urbino instead. Florentino lives a dissolute lifestyle as he pines for his true love, while the seemingly perfect Urbinos struggle with their marriage. Some fifty years later, the old paramours reunite, giving Florentino a second chance to declare his feelings.

Put this way, the plot sounds very straightforward, and I suppose it is. And yet, the book is absolutely captivating. Márquez brings his characters to life in a way that is simply masterful. The protagonists are only ever almost likeable (for me, at least), but there is no doubting that they are human in all their flaws and virtues. As you read their stories, you become intimately acquainted with who they are, how they feel and how they think, though at the same time, there is something about each person that is left a mystery. An exquisite depth and breadth of human experience is captured within these pages, from the mundane to the alarming. The book covers events as varied as Fermina’s and Urbino’s greatest argument (there was soap!) to Florentino’s defecation in a carriage and the brutal murder of a woman following infidelity.

Cholera is set in an unnamed city, presumably in Colombia, during the turn of the 20th century. It’s a context with various social, political and yes, medical concerns which all go to shaping the identity of the characters. Though the flavour of the setting suffuses the entire book, it never overwhelms; rather, it forms a natural part of the story, the characters and the writing. On that note, there is something sensual, visceral and almost sweaty about the way this book is written. I admire the English translator for having achieved (or preserved) this atmosphere, but at the same time, I can only at speculate as to how much has been lost in translation.

I will mention now that while romantic love is the focus of the book, sex and sex-related topics feature prominently. It is at this point that I turn to our hero Florentino Ariza. While some may see him as the ultimate romantic, to me, he is, more than anything, one seriously creepy dude. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that he’s the most polarising character of the book. Be ye warned for the spoilery discussion below (though you might want to know about these things if you intend to read the book as a romance) – highlight to read.

<major spoilers>

So, how is Florentino creepy? Well, he “falls in love” with the thirteen year old Fermina at the moment he first he lays eyes on her, transforming into what we nowadays would call a stalker. While we get a great sense of his passion and obsession, there is no real sense of why he “loves” her so fiercely; he just does, or thinks he does. When he is rejected, he swears to stay faithful to her: after all, her husband has to die at some point. Later, after Florentino is sort of raped on a boat, he becomes a sex maniac. He dedicates himself to seeking out women who’ll have sex with him and he documents his encounters in writing. His various affairs (622 apparently) comprise a large portion of his life and of the book. But of course, our hero must stay true to his One True Love, meaning he basically treats these women as (thankfully consensual) sex objects.

As overblown and ridiculous as Florentino’s feelings might seem at times, it’s easy to believe that he believes them. Despite his shifty behaviour, it’s also possible to root for him and wish for his happiness… for most of the book.  For this reader, our hero crosses the moral event horizon when he goes all Humbert Humbert on us near the end, which, as a friend deftly put it, is “totally not cool”. At this point, I found him so morally repugnant that I was all the more amazed at my ability to still kind of sympathise for him. It’s a testament to the author’s skill that he can write a character so vile and so human, whose actions can be seen as both romantic and sociopathic at the same time. I found the ending, with all its romantic airs, to be highly unsettling. The book’s brilliant like that. 

</spoilers>

Love in the Time of Cholera is an exploration of love and lust; it demands its reader to think about love and what it is. You may conclude that this is a story of the deepest love, or alternatively, that none of the characters know love at all. It makes you wonder what you know of love. Additionally, the book touches on themes of time and mortality. The foibles of the human body and the vicissitudes of aging are thrown into the limelight, adding another dimension to our thoughts on love – how it lasts and how it changes. There are no easy answers. These notions are integrated organically within the story, and to read and think about them is thus never a chore (…and that is all I will say about the book’s ~themes, for I am neither doing homework nor writing a set of CliffsNotes).

Beautifully written and startlingly human, I highly recommend Love in the Time of Cholera. While it’s an immersive read, you should know that it’s not a necessarily a comfortable one. It’s primarily a meditation on love, but it also deals with sex, perversion and degenerating bodies, which might not be what everyone is after. For what it’s worth, I personally found it tender, sad and disturbing – and much too ominous to be romantic (seriously, look at Florentino, man). It’s not so much a love story as a story about love. The book can be wonderfully romantic, frighteningly sinister, or something else entirely, depending on your interpretation, and that’s what makes Love in the Time of Cholera such a masterpiece.

Alex’s Rating: 4.5/5

Movie Review: Tired of Kissing Frogs (Cansada de Besar Sapos)

Title: Tired of Kissing Frogs (Cansada de Besar Sapos)

Director: Jorge Colón

Year Released: 2006

Running Time: 100 minutes

Classification: R

Genre: Romantic comedy

Generally speaking, you don’t watch romantic comedies for their ability to broaden your worldview. What you want is a fun and wish-fulfilling love story that can make you happy (until you go home alone and realise that you have absolutely no one – no one at all – and that you are so, so lonely and the only thing that can numb your pain for now is a tub of ice-cream, eaten in front of the TV, cat optional). With this in mind, I sat down to Tired of Kissing Frogs with low expectations, curious as to how a Mexican romcom would differ from the usual (English-language) ones. To my surprise, the film 1) adhered to the typical (Western) romcom tropes – including the stupid ones – and 2) was shockingly, painfully dull.

The premise of the movie is your typical silly romcom premise: our heroine Martha (Ana Serradilla or Mexican Natalie Portman) catches her boyfriend cheating on her and dumps his ass. Having been thusly burned, she joins an online dating service called “Cansada de besar sapos” and decides to “act like a man” – that is, become a ~playa. Of course, Martha goes on dates but doesn’t actually sleep around – we can’t have a slut as a heroine after all – and on the side she strikes up a friendship with cute waiter/aspiring actor Xavier (José María de Tavira). And, well, guess what happens. Go on, guess.

In addition to this set-up there are the usual romcom staples: Andi (Ana Leyevska) is Martha’s sassy best friend and colleagues Joaquin (gay and wry) and Daniela (kinky and ditzy) serve as comic relief. Add in a “crazy” scene where Martha and Andi have to dress up as strippers and you have all the ingredients for a romcom. Yet somehow, the recipe doesn’t quite work.

Mainly, I think it’s the pacing and the script and the entire logic of it all. Things happen so slowly that you can see all the events – the breakup, the dating montages, the misunderstanding – lined up before you long before they come to pass. It’s no fun when you get to the scenes either; they’re already tired by the time they arrive, having come at you with the speed and subtlety of an approaching street cleaner. Another consequence of this is that you find it really easy to spot all the irrational, nonsensical situations in the story (such as the whole playa thing) without losing track of or being distracted by what’s going on on screen.

I’m pretty tolerant of dumb premises, but in this case, everything is so workman-like and clichéd that it all comes across as bland bland bland. The story and the dialogue are so stock standard that it feels like a checklist for a romcom rather than a romcom itself. During the parts where they needed character or relationship development or whatever, there’d often be some sort of montage with a song. You get the feeling that the writers put in a montage and a song whenever they didn’t know what to write. Not surprisingly, there are a lot of montages and a lot of songs.

Worse, quite a bit of it is poorly edited. I normally don’t notice these sorts of things but by golly I noticed it here. Not only are the montages poorly put together (the music changes can be abrupt) but you also become actively conscious of the different cuts. It’s clumsily done and there are times you notice things like the colours or lighting or “look” being different between shots. The bright side of this I guess is that I have a newfound appreciation the work done by editors and continuity checkers.

Not even the novelty (to me) of its Mexican origins helped alleviate the dullness. Like the cast, the city setting is stylish, pretty and strangely vanilla, with nary a cultural quirk to be found. Had the dialogue been in English I could have easily believed that we were somewhere in the US or Britain.

I mean, I guess they tried. The performances aren’t bad and the actors do what they can with what they’re given. Ana Serradilla brings a liveliness and likeability to Martha and there are some genuinely funny moments throughout. There’s also a realism to the story and romance, particularly towards the end, and this lends a sense of freshness to the movie. As a result, the relationships seem real and relatable.

The flip side of this of course, is that realism is boring. If I wanted to know what ~real life~ is like, I’d just go outside. Sometimes, I wondered if it was the realism that made the movie feel way longer than it was, but then I’d remember the “crazy” shenanigans near the beginning and remember that that was boring too. Just because the characters are doing wild things doesn’t mean the movie itself is wild. The most intriguing thing I found about this film was its lesson in how much technology had changed between 2006 and today. Needless to say, that’s not a good sign.

Alex’s Rating: 1.5/5

Book Review: Pull of the Yew Tree

Title: Pull of the Yew Tree (The Chronicles of Crom Abu #1)

Author: Pauline Toohey

Year Published: 2013

Genre: Historical fiction, Drama, Romance

Set in 15^th century Ireland, Pull of the Yew Tree tells the story of three rival clans: the Fitzgeralds, the O’Byrnes and the O’Tooles. Brought together in an uneasy alliance, they must deal with local Irish rebels, the English conflict between the Houses of York and Lancaster, each other and themselves. Amidst this political minefield, there’s also a love story: Jarlath Fitzgerald and Ainnir O’Byrne fall swiftly and deeply in love, but events conspire to keep the two apart.

There’s so much happening during period of history that it’d be easy to lose track of what’s going on and who everyone is, especially if you (like me) know next to nothing about the War of the Roses. However, the author narrows the focus down to a couple of conflicts – some political, some personal – so by and large it’s easy to follow. One thing I liked was how the author included a character list at the beginning to indicate which characters were fictional. The blurb sort of makes Pull of the Yew Tree sound like a dramatic retelling of historical fact, but it’s more historical fiction than anything else. At any rate, the book is mostly about Jarlath and Ainnir (both fictional), so if you’re after a young, passionate and aching sort of romance in a historical setting, this could be the book for you.

The characters and their relationships with one another are easily the best part of the novel. They all have distinct, vibrant personalities and it’s hard to not sympathise with them. The Jarlath/Ainnir romance felt really fresh to me; I normally dislike “love at first sight” kind of set-ups, but in this case, it felt natural. Both characters can be somewhat stereotyped – Jarlath as the loveable rogue turned brooding hero, Ainnir as the feisty young princess – but they make a very lively pair and it’s hard not to like them. I will mention that I think their main problem could have easily been resolved with a few conversations, but I’ll give it a pass for now. You want them to find their happy ending and I found myself reading the book for the romance rather than the political intrigue.

On that note, if you’re after some juicy political intrigue, you might be somewhat disappointed. Since the focus is on the Fitzgeralds and the O’Byrnes, there’s not much on the other Irish clans, and the Yorkist/Lancastrian conflict remains largely distanced and strangely separated from the smaller scale conflicts at hand. Personally, I would have liked more intrigue. As it is, there’s only enough to show that conflicts exist, but not enough to give them meat. The politics feel superficial even when they come to the fore – for example, (spoiler) when Jarlath goes to England, I didn’t really get what he was actually doing there and why, other than some vague sense of fighting for York (/spoiler). Similarly, some of the characters’ reasons for doing things don’t quite feel fleshed out. We have some characters change their minds or make decisions all in the space of a few paragraphs, where the change seems to have come about because the plot required it, rather than because of any deeper sort of motivation.

The broad-strokes approach to historical fact allows you to fill in the gaps as you please, which may or may not be a good thing for lovers of historical fiction. I’m no history buff myself, so I can’t say how accurate the book is. The only thing that caught my eye was the presence of “Romance of the Three Kingdoms” in Earl Thomas’ library – “Romance of the Three Kingdoms”, I’m assuming, being a translated version of the 14^th century classical Chinese text of the same name. I mean, I guess it’s not physically impossible for such a thing to exist in the library of a 15^th century Irish Earl, but it is highly implausible, so, if you’re a history pedant, you might want to take note.

Most of the narration is written in neutral prose, with the occasional foray into lyricism. The best examples of this come in the rich descriptions of the setting, with its rolling hills and green forests, and the various literary and mythical references to figures like Tristan and Isolde. While I appreciated a pretty turn of phrase here and there, I wasn’t sure if they were always used to best effect. Sometimes they added to the atmosphere, other times they felt like dead weight cluttering up the story. Overall, however, I thought the descriptions were done nicely, and that the author evoked a sense of place very well.

For me, the main problem with the writing occurs in some of the dialogue, which sometimes gives the impression of Ye Olde Englishe – and not in the Shakespearean way, but the way where it feels like someone is trying to give an impression of Ye Olde Englishe. At other times, the dialogue was a bit more modern or neutral, which I preferred, and which was more consistent in tone with the rest of the book. At other times still, there was a bit of “show your research” going on, and gratuitous facts were added, sometimes in an almost textbook tone. The narration, in third person, also jumps from character to character, sometimes between paragraphs, and this confused me more than once. There were a few times where we get inside a character’s head and the next paragraph begins with “Eyes looked to the sky” or something similar, where it turns out that said eyes belong to the narrating character. I’m not sure if I just got used to it or whether it evened out, but I noticed these things less as I got towards the end.

I’d be lying if I said I never judge a book by its cover, and I totally judged this book for its use of Papyrus (though I’ll hasten to add that my dislike of Papyrus has no bearing on my rating). A word of warning: the cover image may give you the impression that the book is Young Adult, but I wouldn’t quite say it falls into that category, given the loose references to sex. The book also has a nice velvety feel and is without a doubt the nicest feeling book I own. My other cover-related complaint concerns the publisher’s logo on the back, which looks suspiciously like it was created using Microsoft WordArt, the likes of which you may remember from PowerPoint presentations circa 1998. Now, I understand that it’s an independent publisher, that there may be budget constraints, and that it’s not related to the actual content of the book itself, but this sort of thing projects a lazy and unprofessional sort of image, which is not a good look for either the publisher or its authors.

Pull of the Yew Tree is Pauline Toohey’s debut novel, and I get the sense she’ll only improve over time. Parts of the book fell a bit flat for me – namely, the “nakedness” of the plot and the occasional changes of heart or events that didn’t quite convince. Another problem for me was the patchy writing, though as this is a debut novel, it seems like the sort of thing that will even out in future. For these reasons, there were times I didn’t want to pick the book up again after having put it down. The strength in this book lies in its characters, as well as the atmosphere the author is able to evoke; hopefully the next book in the series will demonstrate stronger writing and delve further into the politics underlying the setting.

Alex’s Rating: 2.5/5

(Disclaimer: I received this book for free through Goodreads’ First Reads.)

Book Review: The Fallen Series

Title: The Fallen Series

• Book 1: Fallen
• Book 2: Torment
• Book 3: Passion
• Book 3.5: Fallen in Love
• Book 4: Rapture

Author: Lauren Kate

Year Published: 2009 - 2012

Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Fallen, the first book in the Fallen Series: A young girl named Lucinda “Luce” Price, is sent to Swords & Cross Reform School after being accused of murder. There she falls into a love triangle between the sweet-talker Cam and the cold, mysterious yet handsome Daniel.

It is like any YA romance. Luce is torn between two boys and spends most of her time worrying about them and the rest avoiding floating dark shadows only she can see – it is a fantasy novel after all. Of course the real storyline is why Luce is drawn to Daniel (cold mysterious boy) even though he actively distances himself away from her and what is he hiding.

To be fair, a friend told me the entire story before I read this series. I found the storyline typical in the way of the 'early' romance, but refreshing when it came to YA fantasy. If it wasn’t for knowing what was to come I don’t think I would have continued to book 2. Fallen lacked depth in all the characters and I didn’t care much for them even though the book ended with the intention of the reader wanting to know why and how.    

*Warning spoiler*

Book 2, Torment, felt like filler. There was no need for it and nothing happens. This book was only written to enhance the danger Luce has on her life (which isn’t much) and was like a tip toe in cold water before jumping into book 3.

At the end of book 1, we find out Daniel, Cam and most of the Swords & Cross students are fallen angels. They were banished from heaven centuries ago because Daniel had broken the rule and fell in love with Lucinda. In every 'Lucinda life time', Daniel, being an angel can not die, will meet Lucinda and fall in love with her again and again. When Lucinda realises the truth she bursts into flames, most of the time in Daniel’s arms, and is then reborn again with no memories of their past life…. yep, I dig the whole reincarnation thing, just not sure about the spontaneous combustion...    

Essentially in Torment, Daniel leaves Luce at a school for Nephilim (angel half breeds) and then goes off to form more secrets and make more mysteries.



Passion is by far the most interesting book of the series. Luce travels back through the centuries to her past lives in order to escape the present, and to learn from her past. It is mentioned quite often, every life Luce arrives at, there is a lesson to be learned. Besides from Daniels devotion to her, I don’t see the lesson. I don’t understand why Lauren Kate, the author, continues to write it when there is no obvious lesson.

Many of Luce’s past life stories are bittersweet and romantic. It is these stories that are most memorable. Luce also has the ability to take over the body of 'past life’. I hate it. Every time she does it, it feels like she's depriving ‘her past self’ (technically not her) from Daniel…. very selfish.

Overall, Passion deals with mostly the travelling and Daniel trying to find her. The main storyline may be simple, but I enjoyed the minor stories in between the travelling…

What can I say, I am a romantic-ish person.

 

Fallen in Love sets during a particular time in book 3. It focuses on the one place and time with most of the characters. It’s not great and there is no need to read it. I suggest skipping over and heading straight for Rapture.

Everything merges in Rapture, with the biggest question answered and a double twist. The answer to the question is predictable, the double twist was unexpected. I like part of the twist but had trouble believing the second as it damaged the reputation of a well known angel. Rapture contains more action and expands on the bigger picture. There is a small quest, some deaths and some 'baddies' thrown in there to keep it interesting. Then there is the end where everything sort of falls into place with one or two unexplained things (which maybe left for a spin-off)? 

The end is predictable but is the best and appropriate for angels who fall in love.

The one smart detail Lauren Kate had in the books was to name God 'The Throne'. The Throne, in the novel, is selfish, vain and unfair. But by using the name The Throne, it is less likely to be compared with.......God. And she had The Throne as a woman. (Thumbs up from me, not that it really matters.)

This series could and should have been shortened to keep it more interesting but then again I personally like fast-paced novels. There was a good base storyline which could have been written better. Did I enjoy the series? Some parts. Will I recommend it to readers? Only to people who love YA romance. So if you like YA romance, I say go for it especially if you think reincarnation is romantic.   

Terri's Rating: 2.5/5

Book Review: The Study Series

Title: Poison Study, Magic Study and Fire Study

Author: Maria V Snyder
Year Published: 2005-2008
Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult

Yelena is a convicted murderer. On the day of her execution, she is given a choice: take the noose or become food taster for the Commander of Ixia. Naturally, she chooses the latter. At the palace, she is trained to taste for poisons by Valek, the Commander’s loyal and mysterious Chief of Security. To prevent Yelena’s escape, Valek poisons her with Butterfly’s Dust – from then on, she must return to him for a daily dose of the antidote or else face a painful death as the Butterfly’s Dust takes effect.

So begins Poison Study, the first book in Maria V Snyder’s Study Series (also known as the Yelena Zaltana Novels). It’s an interesting premise, rife with potential. As Yelena adjusts to her new life, she meets General Brazell, father of the man she killed, and a magician from the neighbouring country of Sitia, who senses Yelena’s magic – magic being outlawed in Ixia. How can she stay safe? Who can she trust? There’s a lot of tension in this novel, which gives it an enjoyable, exciting sort of mood.

Still, the lack of poisons in a book called Poison Study is disappointing. There is only a brief period of poison taster training before the narrative drifts into Yelena learning to fight, Yelena being suspicious of General Brazell and Yelena taking baths. There isn’t much “plot”; the action, as it is, is mostly character-driven. That brings me to Yelena herself. She’s an Action Girl, and I’ll admit I didn’t like her at first – I felt she had a modern, misplaced sense of entitlement, which was bold considering she’s easily replaceable. However, over time, I came to appreciate her good qualities – she’s strong, frank, hard-working and wants to help people.

One of the best parts of the book is the romance. It’s not a surprise that Valek becomes a love interest, and the captor/captive dynamic makes it a bit more interesting. Thankfully, there’s no insta-love, so it was good to see their relationship actually develop. Valek himself is painted as a devoted and manly badass, and despite his curly shoulder-length hair (wat), he was probably my favourite character and I’m sure many of you will swoon for him (even though he's a pretty shady guy when you think about it).

While Poison Study works as a standalone, its sequels, Magic Study and Fire Study do not. The plot from Magic Study doesn’t even finish, meaning you’ll have to read Fire Study for closure. Spoiler alert: at the end of Poison Study, Yelena lives. She decides to go to Sitia to learn to control her magic. Like its predecessor, both Magic Study and Fire Study lack actual study of magic or fire. Instead, the books are mostly about how Yelena hunts down an evil magician who rapes, tortures and murders girls to steal their magic.

Like many others, I felt that the series weakened with each book. The key issue is the matter of the plot. While the first book deals with Yelena’s struggle to survive, the next two have her playing detective, justice-meter and all-round hero, since no one at all competent exists in her world other than Valek. Yelena’s rape and torture in Book #1 are harrowing, formative events. In Books #2 and #3, rape and torture are used almost gratuitously as drama-adding plot devices. The events of Book #3 are also especially repetitive, with a lot of people travelling around, getting captured and stabbing or being stabbed with the paralysing substance Curare. What makes it worse is how – perhaps due to a lack of personal stakes for Yelena – the antagonist feels like a Monster of the Week, rather than a Big Bad, even though their storyline stretches across two books. Also, while some characters are likeable (eg. Ari and Janco), others are annoyingly one-dimensional (Roze) and one character is outright spin-off bait (Opal Cowan, now featured in The Glass Series).

I had hoped that the world would be built up a bit more, since there are so many interesting concepts at play. It’s not often you read a fantasy set in a socialist military dictatorship like Ixia, but other than a bunch of colour-coded uniforms, you don’t get much exploration of the way it works. The capitalist democracy(?) Sitia, on the other hand, gets a bit more depth in terms of the plains nomads Sandseed clan and jungle tree-dwelling Zaltana clan – but that’s only in terms of their lifestyle, so to speak. You don’t really see how the Sitian government works; we only know there is a Council and that it takes them a long time to make decisions. The only virtue of this, according to Yelena, is how it means that no one person shoulders the blame for mistakes. Also, beggars apparently do not exist in Ixia. Mmm… okay then. It’s a bit too simplistic for my liking, but what can you do?

I think another reason why the sequels aren't as loved is because there is less Valek. Valek and Yelena's romance is one of the highlights of Poison Study and there’s less of that in the sequels. Their relationship also doesn’t seem to develop beyond the stage of becoming a couple. I would have liked to see Snyder explore how their previous captor/captive relationship colours their current one, or maybe something about how Yelena feels conflicted about Valek being an assassin of magicians (ie. people like her). But no. Instead we have one (1) token fight where she calls him out on his murderous ways and she’s portrayed as being in the wrong. Otherwise, every time they meet, they just banter for a bit before their clothes fall off. FYI, after disrobing, the sex scenes comprise, at most, of a vague paragraph about how Yelena feels Valek inside her and how their souls bond. In other words, these scenes adhere to the Twilight school of sexytimes writing, to give you an indication of what they’re like.

Yelena also falls victim to Mary Sue-itis. Big time. She goes from showing magic potential in Book #1 to gaining more and more super special snowflake abilities with each book. Worse is how she seems to disbelieve all the things people say about her. Beautiful? Me? Powerful? Me? Soulfinder? Me? I rolled my eyes so hard and so frequently they almost got stuck at the back of my head. Yelena also makes decisions that don’t seem to make sense, but of course it works out in the end because of course it does. She flip-flops on matters of trust and she only wants to help people if it’s done her way. However, she’s the only character with actual thoughts, so of course she solves all the problems, no matter how nonsensical she may be. The prime example of dumb that’s stuck with me is how she chooses her horse. So she’s just discovered she can talk to a horse (they think in English, apparently, only without auxiliary verbs and without the word “I”). So... how does she think she should choose a horsey companion? Why, by colour of course! It’s like she’s not even trying. And of course she gets the most special horse there is.

The writing in this series is simple. The style is easy-to-read and conversational and the chapters are short, with a tendency to cliff-hang at the end. It’s also the only reason I see for classifying this book as “Young Adult”, since Yelena is already nineteen years old (and Valek’s in his early thirties) and there’s a lot of dark material here (namely, the brutal rapes, tortures and murders). While it’s the sort of prose that’s easy to gobble up, it also felt lazy in parts. Some things I could forgive for being part of Yelena’s thought processes (such as a garment being called “skirt/pants” and Valek wearing a “sneak suit”), but other words and phrases jarred. The language is modern, with “Mr.” and “occupational hazard” being terms I did not expect to see in this world of swords and horses. The most striking instance of this is when Moon Man exclaims “wah-lah!”, which I can only assume is a bastardised form of the French “voila!”. I literally could not believe it and had to read the sentence a few times before it sank in. One last pet peeve is how Valek takes to calling Yelena “love”, using the word at the end of almost every sentence. Rather than sounding romantic, this just reminds me of kindly old British groundskeepers, because I’ve learned from TV that that’s how they speak, innit, love?

The Study Series starts off well. Poison Study is an easy, addictive read with a tantalising romance and tense mood. However, the sequels are less captivating. Yelena becomes a Sue, the romance stalls and the world isn’t as complex as it needs to be. The main conflict is not uninteresting, but the repetitiveness and dumb are really frustrating and sap the life out of things. To sum, the books aren’t unpleasant, but they’re not particularly great either. Still, the glass magic mentioned toward the end sounds interesting, so I may yet get sucked into reading the author’s next series about Opal.

(Note: newer editions of these books include a map at the start. There is also a sequel series for Yelena in the works.)

Alex’s Rating: 3/5