Sometimes, You're the Monster

Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson (Agate Bolden)

Iolana is a diver, and she's just made her first dive to steal precious gems from the sea. She gets two: one a lovely blue, and the other a forbidding red that marks her for--she doesn't know what, but it likely means that she will never leave her tiny island home. She hides the red stone, and things begin to happen. The spirit world, the environment, the political climate, her relationships with family and friends--they all come into play, and when her island is flooded, her family must leave, and be separated. It turns out that Lana's mom would do many bad things to keep her safe, and Lana, in turn, would do anything to keep her mother alive. Handily, plenty of people with terrible intent are happy to lend a hand, even Death her(?)self, and in turn, Lana may unknowingly destroy all.

One important theme is power, and the abuse of it; this is played out in Lana's apprenticeship to a witch, and the witch's use of her for her own ends. Even when Lana realizes this, it's very hard for her to recognize what's happened. This story also has a very strong feeling of being about women. There are men, yes, and they have storylines and lives of their own, but the central struggles with motherhood and family and love felt like they were coming from a different place than in a lot of stories where Girl Has an Adventure. Lana isn't taking on The Adventure Boys Have. It's difficult to explain, but I'm simply left with the impression that epic heroine's journey here, even if it plays to the same endings others have, is being approached somewhat differently than usual.

This is a complicated universe, and the many threads drag a little around the 2/3 mark, partly because you don't know what matters and what doesn't, and the part where you see where some threads are going is delayed by the episodic nature of this part of the story. As the first part of a trilogy, the story starts in a small space and many paths fan out as the plot moves along, though this first book, in my opinion, is not in the pattern of many "part one" books lately that serve only to set up a world. Lana develops quite a bit between the opening pages and the closing, as do other characters and themes, and while things certainly aren't resolved neatly at the end of the book, there is a sense that a new part of the story will begin in the next volume.

Racing the Dark is set in a world inspired by Polynesia and (I perceive) Japan; people of various backgrounds and beliefs wander lands that don't map to Earth geography. I think inspired by is the key phrasing here, because this goes further than filing the numbers of off existing places/people and renaming them for convenience. There are things obviously drawn from reality; Lana's home island has houses on stilts to get up and away from floodwaters during the rainy season. It felt like the ways that people lived were drawn from their geography first, and from the in-world religions and cultures, and lastly from the real world, and then rarely and when it seems like it would be very hard to explain a concept quickly (ex. "pagoda" is used once to explain the shape of a building). Another example might be that on Lana's home island, she doesn't have to wear a blouse--it's warm enough, it's not needed culturally, etc. When she goes to other islands, she has to wear one, and there's a struggle with not wanting to change vs. fitting in (and staying warm in a different climate). That's just one example of something that seemed to me to draw on reality, but something fitted into the world for a purpose. For my taste, I appreciate that such details aren't magically hand-waved, but addressed in terms of their physical and emotional impact; I also appreciate that they're woven into the complexity of the world.

This book ends on a really dark note--surprising for the first part of a trilogy, in a way. The follow up is due out June 2010.

Tiger, Tiger--

In the Forests of the Night by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes (Random House - Laurel Leaf)

One of the last books I read in 2004 was this one, written when Atwater-Rhodes was a teenager. It's the start of a series with shapeshifting, vampires, and romance, and it was popular well before the Twilight craze, so if you'd like to see what the paranormal romance landscape looked like a decade ago, I'd recommend adding this one to your reading list. This book is pretty spectacular for a 13-year-old author--it's very consistent in point of view and shows that she thought about structure in the way she portioned out her chapters. I love this example of how telling stories isn't just for grownups (though one does need to be a legal adult to sign a publishing contract)--and as an example of how rare it is for someone to be ready to be an expert storyteller at such a young age. If you're a teen author and want to practice, I recommend lots of reading, lots of writing, and lots of sites where you can chat with other people in the same boat; one specifically for YA writers is Inkpop.



The last book I read in 2004 was The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett (HarperCollins). It has pictsies in it! Tiffany Aching's little brother has been spirited away by faeries, and she's got to get him back. Her budding powers as a witch aren't quite a match for the scary faeries, so she'll need help from the Nac Mac Feegles, or the Wee Free Men. As with Pratchett's other stuff for kids, it's relatively light-handed with the puns and parody, which are the parts I always like best, but I still found this to be an enjoyable read.

Truckers - read in 2004

Truckers by Terry Pratchett (Random House-Corgi)
This book was heralded as Terry Pratchett's first YA novel, but I'm going to label it here as MG--middle grade--because our concept of YA has changed a lot since I read it. Truckers is about tiny space aliens who live under the floorboard of a department store, sort of like a twist on The Borrowers and similar stories. I no longer have this book, it seems, but I can tell you that this wasn't the first Pratchett book I read, and that in comparison to his adult works, this one felt very vibrant and clear, and I enjoyed it a lot. I don't hear many people mention this one, so it might be a great gift for someone who enjoys Pratchett, or someone who likes humor.

The Life of Pi (2004 read)

Life of Pi by Yann Martel (Mariner Books)
Life of Pi is one of those books that's really, really difficult to describe without spoiling the whole thing. It's also one of those books that can be read across several genres and age groups. For me, it doesn't fit any single category.

Piscine Molitor Patel is castaway and has an otherworldy, fantastic experience. Or maybe he doesn't. The author gives us two stories, one that is almost, almost believable, and one that is far too believable. In the end, we're forced to attend to questions of how far our faith in a story will extend, on multiple levels. I had a hard time getting into the story, but once I did, I was plugging for the hero to make it. And admittedly, I was unsettled the whole way through. The story has a lot of deliberate ambiguous pairings. Which of two versions is correct? I'm not sure we are to know; instead, I think we're to question. In questioning, this book has stayed with me for a long time.

The Grim Grotto - Read in 2004

The Grim Grotto (A Series of Unfortunate Events #11) by Lemony Snicket (HarperCollins)

I suppose a little bit of background is necessary. Ages and ages ago, I picked up the first three of the A Series of Unfortunate Events books in a paperback set at a Scholastic book fair, and I think I got the fourth there in hardcover. I'd have to say this is a great way to jumpstart reading a series--I tend to get lost if I have to remember to go back for more unless it's really, really amazing. And if it's going to be amazing later, well, it's too late.

In 2004, I was up to number 11, though I was re-reading number four to my dad during car rides. Strangely enough, book four disappeared from my life, though a friend bought me a replacement copy (thanks, Amy!) despite her being forever annoyed at the legal misinformation in the first book.

What kept me coming back to these series: wordplay and allusion. There was always something to snicker at, some reference to look up. And, though strange to say, I found the very dangerousness of the books to be attractive; as a reader, I'm forced to overlay some hope.

I was surprised when I picked The Grim Grotto up and was a bit lost. I'd forgotten some of #10, and parts of #10 I sort of disliked, though I find the series fairly even on the whole. (It may just have been that I hate circuses.) I also read most of the series out of order. But at this point in the series, I was thinking about a couple of different themes.

First, the incompetence of adults. It's a fairy-tale construct, true, but there is no adult with true reason--even, at times, the villain, who cannot quite capture the children for good but threatens with real harm and, as far as we know, killed the kids' parents. This is coupled, however, with an uncommon problem for kids in wish fulfillment-y fairy tales: their movements are often limited in a very realistic way. As we start to realize that perhaps there is more going on in this story than we thought, that non-sequiturs from early on may be a bit of thread that's going to tie the whole thing up completely, the kids finally make a major pattern break at the end of this book and move themselves for a change. They're no longer helpless.

There's also a theme that's been running half hidden: grief and the stages of grief, though not in a way that makes a stomachache in your head or headache in your stomach or whatever kids tired of too many angsty YA novels are saying these days, and this book is all the better for it.

And the characters! I adore Sunny's mixed-up words. She's growing up so well, and Carmelita takes the cakesniffers in this one. Oh dear, does she. Tap-dancing fairy princess doctor ballerina or whatever. And one can't forget how the author beats upon all sort of historical and vocabulary things. I need a henchpersonal assistant.

But maybe I'm just amused that Sunny's Hobson's choice was bath or pink dress. That's my Hobson's choice a lot of the time too.

Moonlight and Vines - read in 2004

Moonlight and Vines by Charles de Lint (Macmillan - Orb)

Moonlight and Vines isn't so much a YA book as one that a young adult might read, knowing Charles de Lint's work aimed at younger readers. This collection of short stories set in Newford--an imagined town where magic hides behind the scenes, and sometimes, in front of them--is what made me a fan of Charles de Lint's writing in the first place. This rather dark collection is also very emotional; the themes are not aimed at a young adult reader, but as I said, a young adult reader might find this book. It's been a very long time since I read this, and so I can't really take a closer look from this temporal distance, but I still might pass the book along to a teen reader looking for good examples of short stories and use of emotion, and I'd recommend it for adult readers who would like to take a look back at the various roots of today's urban fantasy.

Another Handful: Middle Grade Books I Read, 2004

Should I note that middle grade and I aren't the perfect fit? It's a harder age for me to connect with; it's a less compelling collection of stories and life themes. I gravitate toward books written for people a bit older or younger, and sometimes, my lack of interest in middle grade books is just a struggle with a time I didn't particularly like being me. So, keep that in mind as you read these reviews, of course!

Midnight for Charlie Bone by Jenny Nimmo (Scholastic - Orchard)
I wanted to love this book, but it was really not for me. I got lost in the surreal story and the sense that it was just too close to Harry Potter for comfort, while being a less compelling read. If you're looking for books in the same vein, particularly for a fantasy read for a young reader who wants more like Harry, this might be a good choice.

The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke (Scholastic - The Chicken House)
I wanted to love this book too, but perhaps it is enough to say that I liked a lot of it, and it's one I've recommended, though it's not quite my favorite flavor. Something about the font in combination with the orphans-run-away story reminds me of The Boxcar Children, though this story is set in Venice. The story meanders a bit, but for a reader enamored with adventure and the idea of living on one's own (see also: Hatchet and From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler), that might not be a problem. There's a bit of magic at the end, but not so much it would spoil the story for a reader who isn't a fan of the fantastic. I've found that boys ages 9-11 particularly like this story, and it's a go-to gift idea for friends that age; there seems to be a divide where this book is a favorite of middle-grade readers (the target audience) and others by Cornelia Funke are favored by adults. And that is the power of books, for me--that there are stories enough to go around.

Trouble Don't Last by Shelley Pearsall (Random House - Yearling)
I picked this book up to have on hand in my classroom for a unit on spirituals, wanting to have some fiction to excerpt for our discussions of the music and its history, particularly the connection to hidden messages. Samuel finds himself accompanying a father figure in their flight from slavery, and while he believes trouble follows him, he's got to find a way to make it to freedom. I think this is a good choice, particularly for kids who haven't studied the time period, which often doesn't come up until late middle school or high school. The first-person narration, the harrowing escape, the muted (but still present) attitudes and language of the time all draw in readers, and could prompt further reading or thoughtful discussion.