The Valley of Amazement by Amy Tan

You know, when I stumbled past Amy Tan being interviewed at last year's Book Expo America, I had to stop and listen, even though that's not what was on my itinerary. She's just an interesting lady! I put The Valley of Amazement (HarperCollins - Ecco) on my to-read list, and received a copy for Christmas, and since it's (for me) catching up on things not YA/fantasy/SF season, I grabbed the book out of the vast pile that I'm trying to pare down. (Books are going in boxes for a variety of reasons, and I won't see them again for a while.) I noted that I haven't read anything of Tan's in a while, but I think I thought I had because The Joy Luck Club is so often excerpted for tests and reading curricula.

Anyway.

This is a commitment of a book. It's quite long, and it's quite harrowing. Lulu Minturn runs a brothel in Shanghai in 1905, one where locals and foreigners can meet to mingle and do business as well as do business. Her daughter, Violet, is absolutely American until she realizes she isn't, and that her father is Chinese. The Qing dynasty comes to an end, and the plan to go to the United States, but one of Lulu's paramours tricks Lulu into leaving Violet for dead, and the paramour sells Violet to another brothel. There, she must be perfectly Chinese to survive.

There are a lot of themes I like in this book. One is long-term friendships between women; another is the love (and sometimes difficulty) of navigating relationships among several generations of women in the same family who have grown up under very different sets of rules. Another is recognizing, appreciating, and enjoying love--and understanding what love is not. Yet another is forgiveness. And another resilience. Another navigating being part of two very separate backgrounds.

I enjoyed the historical setting, largely because there's a focus on the everyday--what people ate, thought, wore. (I am not familiar enough to speak to its accuracy; I assume that some details are brutally honest, some changed to support the story.) I liked that the women here are complex--sometimes sympathetic, sometimes unlikeable, sometimes making choices or holding attitudes I think they shouldn't. I liked that the brothels aren't allowed to be too nice, even when we're nice; just when you think Violet is safe, we're reminded that even though this is fiction, it's based on a harsh reality. (It's too easy to be enchanted by the surface details of beauty and art and forget that the end result is sex for money with girls, and when they fall from grace, the rest of their lives can be short and violent. Details are not held back.) I thought that Violet's pull to be parts of two worlds and two races was interestingly mutable as she incorporated outside influences with her own feelings (and her observations and decisions are much more thoughtful than those of others, who want to simplify her at every turn).

It seemed to me that some spots in the book, particularly lengthy character monologues, replaced even lengthier sections that had had to be cut. I understand that Tan spent a lot of time with family and guides researching The Valley of Amazement, so she probably had more material than could be incorporated, and I sometimes wished for more polishing of those bits. However, everything else flew by, and I really was engaged by Violet and the other women who get a bit of narrator time. I'd recommend this for fans of Memoirs of a Geisha and Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, as well as for readers who like imperfect family relationships, sweeping historical stories, and friendships.

The Bitter Kingdom by Rae Carson

This is one of my absolute favorite series from the past few years--yes, I have collected the set of ARCs and the set of hardbacks. Don't think there aren't paperbacks coming. And I've put off reading the novellas (something I usually skip when reading series) because I wanted to have one last bit left....

The tags feature should show you a few past reviews; I am loath to give away anything if you haven't started from the beginning. Start at the beginning! Suffice to say that The Bitter Kingdom by Rae Carson (HarperCollins - Greenwillow Books) wraps up the series in spectacular fashion.

What makes this book tick:

• More exploration of the idea that with great power comes great responsibility
• More complication of the relations between Elisa's kingdom and her neighbors
• Political intrigue!
• Kissing
• Sacrifice
• Acceptance of leadership
• Family relationships, and related self-esteem
• Negotiation
• Big, epic adventure

For Darkness Shows the Stars by Diana Peterfreund

Please don't fret about the sparkly, pale girl on the cover. I know you've seen a lot of them lately. I don't think this looks much like the book's heroine as described.

And if I tell you this is a post-apocalyptic tale, please don't fret about that either. This apocalypse happened a long, long time ago.

In that long, long time ago in For Darkness Shows the Stars by Diana Peterfreund (HarperCollins - Balzer+Bray), genetic engineering got out of hand. People were modified. And somehow, things mutated and changed, as they do, and people were Reduced. A few, the Luddites, rejected the technology and hid themselves away, and later took it upon themselves to protect the Reduced, the people who could then only speak a few words, pantomime a few rudimentary signs, hardly take care of themselves. In the past few generations, there is something new: the children of the Reduced are as aware of the world and intelligent as the Luddites. And now, they want a new life.

Elliot is the youngest daughter living on the North estate, and her childhood friends were a Reduced girl, Ro, and Kai, who is definitely not Reduced, but one of the Children of the Reduced, who call themselves Post-Reductionist. Each orbits a different class sphere, but the three are fast friends until the day when Kai leaves to join an enclave of free people, and Elliot...doesn't. She couldn't; no one else in her family cares enough about the people of the estate, or the running of the land, to ensure that there is enough for everyone. And Elliot, the one who stayed behind and broke her own heart, must struggle with what she knows as a Luddite--science and innovation tore the world apart--and what she knows as a person, that her own inventions could help everyone.

I had forgotten that this is a retelling of Persuasion, but I recognized the bones of so many favorite romances--girl's family is messing up the finances, girl is in odd position of trying to save the farm despite everything, girl has to negotiate class boundaries. But even if you haven't read Persuasion, and I'm not entirely certain I have (Austen mostly blurs together in my head), there's really fantastic worldbuilding, including some truly frightening implications about a world where very few have autonomy over themselves due to intellect. The last bit makes for rough reading at times, but despite some uncomfortable moments, I couldn't put the book down.

This book is nominated in the YA SF/F category for the 2012 Cybils. I had my own copy to read and review.

The Crown of Embers by Rae Carson

You might want some spoiler space.







Usually, I don't read reviews of books that aren't out yet, which, I suppose, undermines all of those nice publicity people. I recognize titles, sometimes glance at opinions, and that's it until after I've done my own reading.

I'm going to try very, very hard not to spoil you too much while still telling you what I think about this book.

As I mentioned earlier, I enjoyed rereading The Girl of Fire and Thorns, and I was really glad that I took the time to reread it right before reading The Crown of Embers by Rae Carson (HarperCollins - Greenwillow). The stories are complex, and there are themes that take more than one book to roll out and, I presume, to resolve. I like this a lot, actually; I know it can be tough to have a theme that needs several books to explore.

If you don't want to know anything about this book, back button now...



Elisa is now known to be Queen of Joya d'Arena; she was the queen, but now everyone knows of her and her adventures in The Girl of Fire and Thorns, knows of her courage and bravery.

Almost immediately, her grasp of the position is shattered by a series of attacks on her and on her city, and amplified by disconcerting power struggles both that remove her from making decisions and cause her to question her own abilities. She's struggling with impostor syndrome, sometimes, and doubts about her gut instincts. Every piece of her existence is open to scrutiny, and in the capital, she has to rule many instead of a few; she has to, or thinks she has to, choose strategies that harm some to spare others. Sometimes, those strategies mean putting herself last. Sometimes, they mean growing up too fast. Sometimes, they mean choosing between what she wants and what the people she loves want. Sometimes, they mean being monstrous.

I like that this second book complicates the characters; even the good guys have their flaws and some short-sighted views--sometimes views they hold of own volition, sometimes views more reflective of their society's standards. And in this volume, layers are peeled back on the villains, slowly, part of an overall theme of awareness: I cannot hold the same views all my life if I'm provided with new information.

I like Elisa as strategist. I love Elisa as strategist. I like the formerly secondary characters coming into sharp relief and altering the landscape we thought we knew. I like how the enemies start to become human, and how Elisa has to confront her own unkindnesses. And I like that, for all that Elisa is close to many people, there are some things she must do alone.

And if I told you more, I'd actually have to present spoilery things. I kind of hate when people give me spoilery things. I am very protective of the times when I can be lost in a book. But I think that if you liked The Girl of Fire and Thorns, you'll be head over heels for The Crown of Embers.

I read an ARC provided by HarperCollins - Greenwillow via the author. I didn't receive any compensation, suggestion, or marketing asks for this or any other review; it accurately reflects my opinion. This blog does not make money from advertising or any other sources.

This book is nominated in the YA SF/F category for the 2012 Cybils.

The Girl of Fire and Thorns, Media

Monday, I blogged about my re-read of The Girl of Fire and Thorns, which was a finalist for the Morris award, the Cybils, and the Andre Norton Awards, and was named to ALA's Top Ten Best Fiction for Young Adults list. Today, I wanted to highlight some media related to the series, set to be three books (last I checked, but I think that's pretty solid).

First, in print: it's available in hardcover and paperback from your favorite indie or world-eating bookstore. Second, it's available as an e-book. Same rules apply. Third, it's available in audiobook.

The Crown of Embers comes out next week, on the 18th. I'll review that tomorrow. But to fill the gap, there's a prequel short story available as an e-book, called The Shadow Cats. HarperCollins's website describes it thus:

Once a century, one person is chosen for greatness. And it was not Alodia.

Alodia is the crown princess of the realm. The sister who knows how to rule, the one who is constantly reminded that she has not been marked for a grand destiny. But Alodia has plans, and she will be the greatest queen her people have ever known. So she travels—with her hopeless, naive, chosen sister—to a distant part of their land, to begin to secure her supporters. This region needs its princesses, for it is plagued with a curse; the crops don't grow, spring doesn't arrive, and a fierce jaguar stalks in the shadows, leaving behind only empty homes splashed with blood. If Alodia can save them, no one will be able to deny her strength and her sovereignty.

But what she discovers could change the fate of her kingdom, if not the entire world. And it will most certainly change her opinion of her younger sister.

(I'm hoarding this one; I can't decide if I'll read it when it's halfway to the last book in the series, or if I'll save it for the very end.)

Rae Carson's website: http://www.raecarson.com/

Rae Carson talking about The Girl of Fire and Thorns:


Tomorrow, I'll review The Crown of Embers.

The Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson (...Again)

A little over a year ago, I was very happily reviewing The Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson (HarperCollins - Greenwillow) right here. Sometimes, once every 200, 300 books, you hit one that makes you enormously happy because--you think--it has been written especially for you.

Of course, I didn't think that when I first heard of the book, as I noted in that review.

I recently reread The Girl of Fire and Thorns, and a lot of my first impressions held true, but I think I appreciated certain themes more this time around.

For example, at the beginning of the book, Lucero-Elisa is being fitted for a wedding gown, and ripping it. She's sixteen, and she's not a "fit"--for princesses, for her clothes, for her upcoming role as queen of a larger and wealthier country. She bears a Godstone in her belly, religiously significant, but she feels like she's second-best behind her conventionally beautiful older sister, Juana Alodia. When she's sad, emotional, she eats. Delicious things. But not to taste them, always; most often to fill up the empty places inside. She fervently hopes that her husband will be old, fat, ugly, diseased, anything so she can excuse why they might not have to touch--but also, I think, so that she can have a reason to not fit the role(s) that she didn't choose for herself.

Lucero-Elisa's self-esteem issues are deep and vast, but she seems to recognize at least a couple of skills: a hand for embroidery, trilingualism, and an interest in her studies, particularly those about strategy and war. Her new husband arrives--older, but handsome and kind. They achieve a rapport; it turns out that Alejandro needs a thoughtful, loyal friend, and they become the odd couple.

When Elisa and Alejandro leave for Joya d'Arena, where they'll make their home, Elisa discovers that her father and sister might hold more affection for her than she realized, and this resonated with me as the start of a journey where she not only questions the people she loves and who love her, but other sorts of expectations and structures of her world. But it's when the caravan is attacked that Elisa's story really starts to build, I think--when she does unthinkable things, heroic things, to save her servants and king, things she would never have expected. And her Godstone, suddenly, is alive, and even dangerous. It's also where the groundwork is laid in the story for the body as a vessel, its size and shape far less important than the person inside--and additionally, where Elisa begins to question her faith in her god and her Godstone.

And I think that's where my reading diverges from that of some other reviewers (not unexpectedly, perhaps, or unreasonably, because we place so much emphasis on bodies). Elisa is starting to realize that her shape and size don't separate her from others so much as the complicated religious beliefs surrounding the Godstone do. Then, she has to withstand an enormous physical trial in a body that hasn't been in training--which makes her stronger, not insta-skinny. She doesn't stop liking and eating food. She doesn't understand, immediately, though some around her do, that her relative body isn't--and hasn't ever been--a measure of her worth as a person.

I won't spoil the middle--its complicated political plot--but interwoven with adventure is coming of age, a little romance, and rising to the possibility of self. I will sneak in, just at the end, that rereading gave me a different, more open view on the setting and its nuance that I didn't pick up the first time around, and that I got a better sense of some of where problems are laid out for characters to solve in later books, but that's me reading with an editor hat on, not with just my reader eyes.

The next book in the series, The Crown of Embers, comes out on September 18 from Greenwillow.

Kissing the Witch: Old Tales in New Skins by Emma Donoghue

I was surprised, just now: I looked up the publisher for Kissing the Witch: Old Tales in New Skins by Emma Donoghue  and it turned out to be HarperTeen (HarperCollins). I believed this to be an adult book--and while I think there's nothing in here objectionable for teens (though their gatekeepers still may, as always) the style simply struck me as "written for adults." (I'd have liked to have read this as a teenager, but I think I appreciated it more now.)

Kissing the Witch is Donoghue's reimagining of a collection of tales that you might recognize if you read the Lang fairy books. It begins with Cinderella, who does get to go to the ball--without any interference from stepsisters or stepmothers. It's lovely, and she's the belle, but something's not right. She dances and twirls and loses her slipper, but it's no matter. She'd prefer her godmother over the prince.

At the end of the tale, Cinderella asks of her godmother: and what's your story? The rest of the book braids together a variety of tales, each leading into the next, each revealing the life of some woman who has been playing a vital role. There are friendships, loves, children, and pain, sorrow, and wonder. The focus is on the women, and even when they're in situations that are terrible--the everyday violence of women's worlds, the frustration of breaking out of gender roles--even when they fail, the women are so centered in the stories that it still feels right, unflinching, and true. Of course, the language is lovely, with unexpected phrases throughout.

I've expressed frustration with fairy tale retellings before, but been unable, sometimes, to express what I am looking for; I'm looking for something like this, where the original tale is still there, but what is retold (plot, themes) is varied and original in shape. Bring me something fresh and brave, and that's worth the pages.

Airborn by Kenneth Oppel - A 2005 Read

In my lovely pile of book reviews that are hidden in an old cache, I just ran across this one for Airborn by Kenneth Oppel (HarperCollins-Eos) that I wrote in 2005. I've edited it a bit to take out the personal conversation that was embedded in it at the time. And, my apologies, but there may be an odd break around the picture when this posts. The disintegration with Amazon Associates has caused problems, and now, even when I'm just typing text, Blogger is showing inability-to-save errors. I'm bummed because Blogger is a) free, b) doesn't require me to have a hosting service, c) doesn't require me to keep up with WordPress, d) is very WYSIWYG, meaning that I can spend more time writing and less time coding, creating more time for reading, and e) it has nice basic stats, themes, and ways to connect with other blog(ger)s. Buuuut...I suppose I'll have to make time, eventually, to move again.

Anyway, Airborn was one of the best books I'd read in a while. I hadn't been inspired by the cover; the title looked clunky (as compared to, say, Airborne...but there's a reason why that wasn't the right word), the colors were the dark blues and reds I associated with Robin Cook or John Grisham or a medical/police/political thriller (I believe that there are more cover designs available now, and of course, it doesn't look odd at all to me today), and the airship on the cover resembled nothing so much as a shark. Once in, though, there was this wonderful sense of being in a turn-of-the centuryish Treasure Island/Swiss Family Robinson/Indiana Jones adventure.

The book tiptoes in the direction of magical realism but doesn't go there, exactly. In this parallel, giant airships and balloons rule the skies, sliding over the occasional ocean liner (such as the Titania) below. There's been no apparent need to invent or use airplanes, except for gliders as a sort of hobby. Of course, there's also a sense that this is taking place about 100 years ago in terms of fashion and convention.

Matt, a cabin boy sailing out of Sydney, receives the determined and impetuous Kate Simpkins for a passenger. She's accompanied by only a noisy, nosy chaperone, and wants to know what really happened to her grandfather and what were the mysterious creatures he saw in the sky. He also has to contend with Bruce, the aviation-school brat who came on board because of nepotism and usurped Matt's promotion. Oh yeah, and there are pirates, a storm and shipwreck, narrow escapes, a daring rescue, acrobatics in the air, and a hint of romance of the type that I always think of as the kind even boys who still think in cootie terms won't mind.

I loved this book as a standalone, and was unexcited about the sequels (huh, and I've been complaining about that a lot again recently). I liked the just-open-enough ending, and as it turns out, I haven't read all of the sequel(s?), though I own more books by this author, and they've survived more than one round of book-purging. I remember Airborn as a nifty historical speculative adventure, and would still recommend it.