Allison's Book Bag

Posts Tagged ‘books for young adults

Wow! Everything I liked about Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor but missed in Seeing Red is back in Arch Enemy. No, Alyss hasn’t reverted to being a six-year-old prankster and heir to the throne. She is a queen on the run. As such, she has finally lost her annoying calm from the second book. Nor has Dodge succumbed to the nervousness of a low-ranked lover, but that’s fine because now he’s actually an equal partner with Alyss in the war for Wonderland. Yes, there are still battles. But in Arch Enemy, they are less about military gadgets or even who will rule Wonderland and more about the survival of imagination. Without this gift, even Earth is doomed. And to my delight, Beddor even vamped up his descriptions. They are now deftly entwined with his characters and actually feel integral to the book as color to a rainbow.

In the wake of the destruction of imagination, rebel forces are gathering to ensure imagination never returns. The Lady of Clubs rallies protestors in a salvage lot by arguing that a Wonderland devoid of imagination would be cause for celebration. No longer would she or anyone else need to feel like lesser citizens. Some listeners agree. Others obviously do not, for imagination is a part of who they are. What would the world be like for them without this gift? Indeed, what would the world be like if only our mathematicians or scientists ruled? Then again what if Mutty Dumphy, inventor from Wonderland, is correct: How would even the world’s mathematicians and scientists function without imagination? Or how about architects and lawyers? Or builders and managers? For don’t all skills require imagination to a greater or lesser extent?

Obviously, the Lady of Clubs disagrees for she is instrumental in having imaginationists herded up and crammed into prisons. Arch, King of Boarderland, apparently also agrees with her. He will stop at nothing to gain the throne of Wonderland–even if it means destroying the Heart Crystal: the source of imagination. In contrast, Alyss and her hateful aunt believe so strongly in the sanctity of imagination that they are willing to join forces to preserve it because both of them rely on it for their power.

The fight for imagination lays at the heart of the first and third book in the Looking Glass trilogy. When Beddor strayed from that theme in Seeing Redd, he betrayed his strength. Now he is back, writing again about the trilogy’s most beloved and hated characters: our heroine Alyss, her suitor Dodge, her tutor Bibwit, and her bodyguards Hatter and Molly. Bibwit has returned to being his pretentious self, declaring “I can be sure of nothing as much as my own wisdom”. He talks too much, but cares a bundle and is intensely loyal to Alyss–and so I like him. Hatter is back, but no longer simply a master of gadgets, but also a man of divided loyalties: Whom should he protect foremost–his queen or his daughter? His internal conflict represents another theme of the book, that we’re all halfers. We have loyalties to our teachers but also to our friends, to our lovers but also to our parents, and no one is exempt from this divide. Realizing this truth helps Molly recover from the blow to her self-esteem when earlier (in Seeing Redd) she inadvertently endangered Queen Alyss. And of course Arch, Cat, and Redd are back in all their scheming and fury. Will Cat lose his last life? Will Alyss regret her truce with Redd?

While I am relieved and pleased for the revival of deeper themes and developed characters, along the reappearance of whimsy, I am above all surprised by Beddor’s descriptions. In Seeing Redd, I felt as if reading a postcard from a tourist. In Arch Enemy, I feel as if Beddor is writing from his home: “vines as thick as spirit-dane’s shin bones” and “rubbery fronds the size of tea platters”. The vocabulary he uses to describe objects in Wonderland also feels natural: wondercrumpets, lunar phase, frugelberry, hookah smoke, nonsense mirrors, gryphon wing. I don’t know that I care for the the blend of modern and futuristic technology: factories, crystal continuum (subway), entertaining center, message retrieval system, hovercycles, holographs, and self-cleaning rooms. But this is a minor flaw.

Looking Glass Wars meandered at the start, but hooked me with the appearance of the six-year-old prankster Alyss. Seeing Redd was a chore to read, like a school assignment, and I couldn’t wait to be done with it. In contrast, Arch Enemy hooked me with its first sentence and never stopped reeling me in. Which goes to show one should never underestimate sequels. Everything about this third book, including the riveting and exhilarating end, is excellent.

My rating? Bag it: Carry it with you. Make it a top priority to read.

How would you rate this book?

Once upon a time, I read a book called Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor and fell under the spell of its intriguing theme, whimsical style, and odd cast of characters. Then I read Seeing Redd and fell out of love. In this second book of the Looking Glass trilogy, Alyss has taken her proper place on the throne, Redd is in hiding on Earth but biding her time for when she can return to Wonderland and defeat Alyss, and Arch (King of Boarderland) has risen as a new enemy to the throne. With a city needing repair in the wake of its destruction by Redd and enemies for Alyss to defeat, you’d think Seeeing Redd would hold my attention. Yet by the time I reached the last chapter, I felt as if I had run a marathon. The style and characters have grown stale. I also understood why the critics had condemned Beddor for tampering with our beloved Alice in Wonderland. There was far too much politics and battles in a tale that should be witty and weird.

Thankfully, for I really wanted to read what happened next in Wonderland, there were a few nifty scenes. For example, there is also a quick interaction between cards that I liked. Yes, I said cards. This is a book based on Alice in Wonderland and therefore has preposterous characters. Sadly, they seemed more real in the first book. Yet these two cards moved me. They are comparing their attitude towards war. Two Card was feeling bored and wishing for war. Four Card was happy enough for calm, having seen too many battles. Yet at the first sign of battle, he vows to survive–and I wished this for him, even as the Glass Eyes fighters surrounded him.

In this example, Beddor shows a vulnerable or human side to his characters. If only more of his characters had been similarly portrayed. Then I might not have yawned through Beddor’s first lengthy portrayal of Alyss’ bodyguard. Molly is engaged in a virtual simulation of battle. She arms herself with this gadget and that gadget, leaps from one enemy to another, and yet I never cared whether she lived. Fastforward several chapters later, when she is a prisoner of enemy Arch but has also been revealed to be daughter of one of the lovable characters from Looking Glass Wars and moreover is showing fear. Now suddenly I care.

It really wouldn’t take much to move me, but most of the time Alyss and everyone else are acting so controlled that they bore me. Surely, this doesn’t have to happen when our book characters grow up. And in reality it doesn’t even in Seeing Redd. For there are two characters which are very interesting indeed: Redd and The Cat. How dismal that a trilogy whose first book captured my imagination for months after reading it should with its second book engage me most when its enemies parade its pages. The critics are right to be outraged.

Wait, there’s more that’s wrong. Think about a trait that you tolerate in a friend. Then think about how much more you despise that trait when at odds with your friend. That’s how I feel about Beddor’s descriptions. In Looking Glass Wars, his whimsical style and astounding characters far outweighed his unimaginative portrayal of Wonderland. In Seeing Redd, every new page instead fills me with this growing sense that Beddor’s writing might be helped by some classes in descriptive writing.

It took me a few chapters to pinpoint the reason for my distaste. After all, Seeing Redd is not completely devoid of descriptions. Here is one of the Capitol: “The crystal-shimmering spires and agate-mosaic artworks, floors inlaid with jasper and pearl, walls of quartz and stone and glittering mortar.” Not until I read the description of Arch’s kingdom, and thought that it sounded like a tourism brochure, did I understand the biggest problem. It’s sort of the difference between the advertisements that try to sell consumers on all the nifty features of a product compared to the ones that focus on an individual’s experience with the product. Beddor’s descriptions lack heart.

As do his characters. The playful Alyss who sold me on Looking Glass Wars has been diminished to an adult who shows controlled calm even when her kingdom is under seige. There is also such limited whimsy. Everyone is reserved; everything that happens is serious. There simply is no passion. Even the long-awaited kiss between Dodge and Alyss reads like a token scene, rather than a magical heart-throbbing moment. Frankly, a personalized travel guide would probably prove a more dramatic read that Seeing Redd.

My rating? Leave it: Don’t even take it off the shelves. Not recommended.

How would you rate this book?

I really wanted to love Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins. After all, I had raced through the first two books in The Hunger Games trilogy both times that I read them. When news of the third book hit the web, I didn’t even wait for its arrival at my local library. Instead I bought the boxed trilogy at a local bookstore. I couldn’t wait to find out what would happen in the newly-discovered District 13, with the love triangle between Katniss, Peeta, and Gale, and to the Capitol now that its districts were staging rebellions. Yet despite winning me over by the end, this book is the weakest link.

To start, there are large logic holes: For example, can anyone tell me how exactly did Gale pull off the rescue of District 12? If the electricity was disabled solely due to the district being bombed, how did its hundreds of citizens flee in time to the lake? And how did Gale know about the lake? Last I heard Katniss hadn’t shared its location with anyone because of its held memories of her dad. Perhaps she shared its whereabouts at some point in her discreet talks with Gale, was of course overheard by all the knowing Capitol, and I have simply forgotten this moment. Even given this, why didn’t the Capitol didn’t simply pursue everyone to the lake in their hovercrafts?

I do admire the careful attention Collins bestows to new readers. In both Catching Fire and Mockingjay, she spends the first few chapters deftly alluding to earlier events. In a new twist, in Mockingjay, she even portrays Katniss as mentally instable, being visited by doctors, and using their recommended technique of remembering the simplest things she knows to be true: “My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capital hates me. Peeta was taking prisoner. He is thought to be dead….” Personally, I thought this chant–repeated more than once in the first few chapters–to be overkill, but perhaps this is merely the arrogant reaction of a fan.

Collins also never really convinced me that former tribute and victor Finnick would have also succumbed to mental instability to the point that he rarely left his hospital bed. Yes, In Catching Fire, he did race after an imitation of his love’s voice. Yet afterwards he was the one who kept Katniss from chasing an imitation of her best friend’s voice. He also conspired with the allies to blow up the Hunger Games arena. Collins seemed to want to include him, without having any valid reason, and ultimately I dislike the role she gave him in the final section.

Which brings up another flaw. I tend to prefer character books. Collins’ masterful depiction of both major and minor characters is partially what drew me into her suspense books. In Mockingjay, I feel instead inundated with a dizzying array of bland characters from the newly-discovered District 13. Even when familar characters step into the scene such as Beeter, who was introduced in Catching Fire and instrumental to the escape of the allies from the death arena, very little new is revealed about them. And far too many favorite characters such as Effie and  Cinna and Madge are absent, dead, or conveniently resurrected when Collins needs them.

Then there’s the setting. I don’t need the places in my novels to be visceral. After all, they’re rather lacking in plenty of other books on my wish list. Yet Collins’ adept delination of detail is partially what drew me into her suspense trilogy. There is a glimmer of her style in a line in the chapter about the lockdown drills, where Katniss stays behind a pipe in the laundry room and watches a spider construct a web. But it is only a glimmer, in contrast to the plentitude I found in her first two books: “ugly urn filled with fake flowers” “watch a beetle crawl up the side of a honeysuckle bush” “green and silver moth on his wrist” “fine wool coat that always seems too tight in the shoulders” “scent of oranges that still lingered on his chin” “feeble flame that burns on one end of a charred log”. No doubt, her craft suffered here due to District 13 being uniform in buildings, rooms, schedules, food, and pretty much everything else you could imagine. Then again, Collins created this bland other district. Why, I am not sure.

There were other moments besides that of the spider that I liked. There is the chapter where Haymitch challenges everyone to identify the moments when Katniss shone as a hero. There are the moments with Boggs, one of the District 13 military leaders, that endear him to Katniss and therefore to me. And there are the surprise twists such as what happened to those allies who were captured by the Capitol, what happens in District 2 when the rebels attempt to take it over, and other events that I can’t mention. Actually, with those twists, the suspense and the emotional angst builds. So, with this last book, the page-turning thrills (with its fighting and killing) are sadly are mostly what engaged me. What a disappointing finale to an otherwise brillant trilogy.

My rating? Leave it: Don’t even take it off the shelves. Not recommended.

How would you rate this book?

What is it about Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins that enthralls me so much? My husband teases that it’s all the fighting and the killing. He is right that the book is driven by violence. It is also driven by suspense. Which means in either case, it’s not my typical book. I prefer character books; where there is more than action to the story. Hunger Games however is that special hybrid that offers mind-bending and heart-wracking thrills, while also offering up characters to love, settings to absorb, and enough emotional angst and moral probing to leave one slightly unsettled when the book covers are shut.

A picture drawn of Katniss Everdeen, a charact...

Image via Wikipedia

Collins reveals much of the depth of her main character Katniss through the memories she relives of family, friends, and neighbors while competing for her life against eleven other selected tributes in the Capitol’s arena of death. Even before being plunged into this nightmare, however, we first see Katniss seek the warm comfort of her sister, anticipate the comfortable presence of best friend Gale, swing by the Hob (a black market) which remains busy even on Reaping Day, and struggling to accept help from her mother. In other words, in just one chapter, Collins successfully presents Katniss as a vulnerable and flawed but likeable character. Then in the very next, her sister’s name is called as a tribute, Katniss volunteers to take her place, and the countdown to the Hunger Games begins. Yet Collins continues to delve deeply into her characters, like a miner burrowing deeper and deeper into the earth, even as the action switches from District 12 to the Capitol and to the Hunger Games arena.

While I also do not particularly gravitate to books about other worlds, setting can enhance a book for me in the same way that large screens and high definition video can enhance the movie-viewing experience. Collins has delineated details so well that her hauntingly medieval but also starkly futuristic setting feels alarmingly real. Each district in her country of Panem lives by a trade, in District 12 children grow up to be coal miners, and suffers from the effects of war. All districts are separated from one another, surrounded by electric fences, and often guarded by Peacekeepers who punish law-breakers with whippings, gallows, or gunfire. Even worse, the Capitol annually requires each district to enter names of children into a drawing, from which one youth per district is picked to compete in the Hunger Games, from which there is allowed to only a single survivor. In ancient times maidens were sacrificed to appease monsters or gods; in Panem, children are thrown into an arena where environmental features such as manufactured wild birds and beasts are dreamt up by the Gamekeepers of the Capitol.

I could rave further about all the positives of Hunger Games. There is Collins’ style: “As I stride to the elevator, I fling my bow to one side and quiver to the other … brush past the Avoxes who guard the elevators and hit the number twelve….” Teachers would definitely praise Collins for her use of WOW words! There is also the thematic undertone: Consider Peeta’s declaration that in the arena: “I want to die as myself.” His stirring words causes a quarrel between him and Katniss that reminds of the varied reactions of contestants on reality shows. Truly Hunger Games holds so many qualities so perfectly blended together that it needs to be your next read.

My rating? Bag it: Carry it with you. Make it a top priority to read.

How would you rate this book?


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Looking Ahead

The end of my thematic review months is coming to a close. Starting mid-May, I'll review an assortment of books.

  • May 22: Regine's Book by Regine Stokke
  • May 25: Zoo Station, true story by Christiane F.
  • May 29: Boy 21 by Matthew Quick
  • June 1: Sort of Like a Rock Star by Matthew Quick

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Thirty days. Average of 2000 words per day. A total of 58,600 words. I am a NaNoWrimo Winner in 2012.

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