Company of Liars

Title: Company of Liars

 

Author: Karen Maitland

Publisher: Delacourt Press (2008)

 

Genre(s): Fiction, Historical Fiction

Length: 453 pages

Synopsis:  Plague has come to medieval England.  Some are hopeful that it will burn itself out.  Some cling to rites and rituals, hoping they will keep the disease at bay, and some just hope to outrun it.  This story's narrator is one of the latter, a camelot, or seller of religious relics (of dubious provenance).  His flight is not a solitary one, however.  On his way, he meets Rodrigo and his apprentice Jofre, musicians who've lost their place in a nobleman's house.  They're not the last to join this band of misfits.  Before long they're joined by Zophiel, a traveling magician, Pleasance, an herb woman, Osmund the painter and his pregnant wife Adela, and Cygnus, a storyteller.  The strangest member of their company, however, is a young girl called Narigorm, a girl with hair as white as snow and a complexion like skimmed milk.  She's a fortune teller, reading the future in runes that never lie.  Everyone in this company has a secret, some dangerous, some horrible.  For them, one who can see the truth in the fall of the runes could be even more destructive than the deadly plague.

 

My Rating: 5 Stars

My Opinion:  I took a chance on this book.  Knowing nothing of it, I spotted it on the top shelf at the library.  Eying the seven other books I already carried, I decided I might as well add it to the stack.  It was well worth it.  The book weaves a wonderful tale, walking a fine line between history and fantasy.  The characters are unique and diverse, the hints at their secrets subtle and tantalizing.  There's an air of magic about it, not quite enough to call the book a fantasy, but enough to make it a world apart.  It's like a ghost story or a fairy tale, not quite believable in the telling, but perfectly believable to the characters it contains.  Maitland's created a grim world: a soggy, sour, stinking England rotting from the plague and corruption.  The fear is contagious as well, fear of dangers both known and unknown.  Fate has a role to play in this book as well as magic.  The terrible inexorability of what will befall this strange company is as frightening as the plague rolling across the country.  It's a complex, subtle story that's quite difficult to discuss without giving anything away.  It's unexpected, dark, funny, bitter and poignant.  In short, read it.  You'll be glad you did.

Saga

Title: Saga: A Novel of Medieval Iceland

Author:Jeff Janoda

Publisher: Academy Chicago Publishers (2005)

Genre(s): Fiction, Historical Fiction

Length: 353 pages

Synopsis: Life is hard in medieval Iceland.  The earth is rocky and difficult to farm.  The winters are long and dark and bitter.  The people are hard too, as they must be to survive in such a place; men, and women too, use their influence to their own greatest advantage..  Saga presents the tale of one valley and the chieftains that rise and fall from power there.  Inheritance and murder, legal maneuvering and cold-blooded revenge, ghosts, gods, and the ever-present, whispering elves combine to tell a story that is both immediately accessible, and yet just a bit out of reach, a saga of another time and another place, remembered in the telling.

My Rating: 4 Stars

My Opinion: The word "subtle" is not exactly the first to my mind when someone mentions vikings, and yet this tale has shown a great capacity for it.  At its most crude and basic, we have here a fight over farmland, and yet Janoda was deepened the tale to include so much more.  It's as much a novel of political intrigue, familial ties, and courtroom drama as it is a violent viking vendetta (if I may be superfluously alliterative).  "Never kill more men than you can afford to pay for," a character says at one point, and it's quite true throughout the story.  Relatively little blood is shed, but the conniving machinations of the various chieftains in this story are quite gruesome enough.  There are faint elements of the supernatural: malicious little elves flit at the corners of vision, and several deaths have a rather otherworldly bent, but this is not a fantasy.  Here we don't have horned-helmet wearing, dragon-ship sailing Norse raiders.  These are Icelandic farmers, solid, dependable, and utterly ruthless.  Intriguing though the premise is, the story itself is somewhat slow and methodical, grinding relentlessly forward like an Icelandic glacier.  It's never quite slow enough to be dull, but at the same time, one can't help but feel as if the story hasn't quite gotten started yet, even well into the book.  It's as though we're waiting for that one moment when the tale stops being back-story and becomes the narrative we feel we're expecting, but it's not a moment that ever really comes.  By the time I finished, I realized I never did get the story I was expecting, but the one I got was certainly worth the read.

On Libraries, Private and Public

It might surprise readers to learn that my personal library is very small.  I have copies of some classics: Anna Sewell's Black Beauty, Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden, and two copies of Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings.  One copy is a gigantic single volume with the movie covers I bought out of desperation, as the final book had been checked out of the local library for ages; the other is a gorgeous boxed set of the illustrated trilogy with artwork by Alan Lee, one of my favorite fantasy artists.  Speaking of Alan Lee and fantasy art, I also have several books of art by both him and Brian Froud, the creative mind behind the Jim Henson films Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal.  He also did the inspiring artwork for a book by Patricia McKillip, Something Rich and Strange.  McKillip is also the author of the Riddle-Master trilogy, which I have in one volume, wedged between Spindle's End and Sunshine by Robin McKinley and The Ropemaker by her husband Peter Dickinson.  All seven Harry Potter books are lined up in order (hard cover, with the original dust jackets, of course), and an assortment Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern books have their own section as well.  There are dictionaries in English and Spanish and a well-thumbed thesaurus.  As I am also a student, a large part of my limited shelf space is given over to text books on statistics, environmental health, cellular biology, and (tangentially) literature and writing.  I have copies of the literary magazine See Spot Run, for which I was the editor-in-chief.  There are also copies of Cicada magazine, which I subscribed to in high school, back when it was perfect bound (like a little paperback book).  But really, that's it.  If you scan through the books I've reviewed recently, you might notice something.  I don't own a single one of them.

My private library may border on pathetic, but thankfully, that's where the joys of the public library come in.  The last time I went to visit those hallowed halls, I had three books I'd planned to grab... 45 minutes later, I walked out with eight I just couldn't leave behind.  I've used inter-library loan to hunt down historical sources and to borrow $50 pattern books to fuel my dressmaking hobby.  It's often my go-to printing spot when I'm away from home, and a great resource for music and movies.  As an undergrad, Friday nights found me and my roommate perusing the DVDs in preparation for Roomie Movie Nights.  I'm even a fan of library discards; I make altered books and journals in my free time, and old engineering textbooks are one of the few books I don't feel guilty tearing apart and painting.

When I moved on to my graduate studies, I was a bit surprised to discover the zeal with which the university libraries were guarded.  True, they are treasure troves: a ten story tower of stacks at the main library alone, separate law, health, and theological libraries, rare books and manuscripts.  In undergrad, the library was one of the few places where the local community and the college met.  Everyone was welcome.  Now, as a master's student at a large university, I've found that students have to card their way past turnstiles to even glimpse the wealth of pages within.  I understand that the libraries exist for the students and faculty, and survive because of the funds these students bring, but it still seems miserly to hide such a wealth of information and storytelling away for only a select group.  I consider myself lucky to still be in that group; the sheer number of books at my disposal are astonishing.  Even if it does feel a bit like sneaking past a dragon every time I swipe my card and climb into the ten stories of stacks, the riches I find are worth it.  And, of course, so is the pleasure of finding a little gem to share here with you.

Turnskin

Title: Turnskin

Author: Nicole Kimberling

Publisher: Blind Eye Books (2008)

Genre(s): Fiction, Gay/Lesbian Interest

Length: 259 pages

Synopsis:  Tom Fletcher is a Shifter, born with the ability to changed his physical appearance in remarkable ways.  For the most part, though, he downplays his skills; raised in a rural community of non-Shifters (known as Skins), it seemed prudent to keep a low profile, with one notable exception.  Tom is a playwright and an actor, and his Shifting abilities give him opportunities onstage that no Skin could hope to match.  Unfortunately, his hometown isn't exactly a center of culture.  He knows he's destined for the stage, but he'd have to travel to the city of Riverside to have that chance, and as a Shifter, regulations make such travel difficult.  Opportunity goes hand in hand with danger, however, as Tom learns when he meets the mysterious Cloud Coldmoon.  Before Tom realizes it, he's swept up in a whirlwind romance, suspected of murder, and fleeing to Riverside with little more than his scripts and the name of a theatre run by his cousins.  Tom finds that the city has its own problems, and soon realizes that the person he's been all his life might not be the person who can succeed in Riverside.  He's finally been offered his shot at a life on the stage, but what face will he have to wear to get it?

 

My Rating: 3 Stars

My Opinion:  This book seemed to have so much potential.  It was, to be extravagant with my metaphors, rather like a souffle: brilliant ideas played off one another, rising to unexpected heights and opening the door for everything from social commentary to art criticism.  But...somewhere in its creation, someone slammed the oven door and this particular souffle fell terribly flat.  Tom's voice is disconcertingly young, in ways that  go beyond the naivete of a country bumpkin moving to the big city.  I had to reread the initial pages several times before I could come to the conclusion that he wasn't a teenage boy.  The conflicts arise and dissolve with no real logic.  Major problems present themselves, often quite suddenly, then are pushed to the side, forgotten and unresolved, or resolved unrealistically.  The characters feel sketchy and one dimensional at times, and the romance that ostensibly drives the book forward never really rings true.  Generally, issues like this would have cost the book an additional star in my rating system, but the concept of this novel really is magnificent.  Kimberling's world offers a chance to consider concepts of identity in its extremes.  What does the idea of gender mean to a group of people who can change their appearance completely?  What about the concept of race?   What about sexuality?  Unfortunately, she all too often couches this conversation in terms of extremism, making it almost a satire of itself.  The heart of the story, however, is not satirical in nature, and considering the entirety of the book in such a light would undo the self discovery that's intended to be the true theme.  The book itself seems to morph from moment to moment, uncertain of where it's headed or even where it's been.  Before it can offer lessons on self-discovery, it would first have to take its own advice.

The Lies of Locke Lamora

Title: The Lies of Locke Lamora

Author: Scott Lynch

Publisher: Bantam Books (2006)

Genre(s): Fiction, Fantasy, Adventure

Length: 499 pages

Synopsis:  Locke Lamora is very clever.  Even as a child, orphaned and taken in by one of Camorr's gang-masters, he was outwitting both his peers and his masters and getting himself into trouble in the process.  When he finds himself under the tutelage of Father Chains, a con man with a group of elite young thieves as his students, he finally finds an outlet for his quick wit and silver tongue.  Before long, he's risen to the rank of garrista, leader of his own little gang of thieves, the Gentlemen Bastards.  But Camorr is a dangerous city, even for the cleverest thieves, especially now that the mysterious Gray King seems to be targeting just such men.  As much as he's learned and as skilled as he's become, Locke Lamora still has a tendency to forget one thing: sometimes, he's just too clever for his own good...

 

My Rating: 5 Stars

My Opinion:  Ladies and gentlemen, put down whatever you're reading and go find this book.  Sometimes I wonder whether a book is really worth the 5 star rating I'm giving it... I tend to give them the benefit of the doubt if I can't pinpoint something wrong with it...after all, I have my personal tastes, and I don't expect every book to cater to them.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with this book.  It has earned every one of its five stars several times over.  The characters are charming, with their own preoccupations, skills, and flaws.  The setting is fascinating; there's a sense that, descriptive as Lynch is, he's barely scratched the surface of the world he's created.  It's a certainly a gritty place; the language might make the most verbose sailor blush, but it feels right for these people and this place.  Lynch pulls no punches.  His writing sweeps the reader along, through comedy and tragedy, tenderness and violence.  Cliched though it may be, I laughed, I cried, and read faster and faster, anxious to find out what would happen.  I will definitely be picking up another tale of the Gentlemen Bastards; the sequel, Red Seas Under Red Skies, was published in 2008, and the next book, The Republic of Thieves, is due out in October of this year.  I highly recommend this book.  It is, by far, one of the best books I've read in quite some time, and for a book reviewer, that's saying something.

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

Title: The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

Author: N. K. Jemisin

Publisher: Orbit (2012)

Genre(s): Young Adult Fiction, Fiction, Fantasy

Length: 427 pages

Synopsis:  Yeine never thought she would see the palace of Sky, where her mother, heir to the throne, was raised.  Her mother abandoned her birthright before Yeine was born; disowned by her family for her choice of husband, Yeine's mother raised her in Darr, a "barbarian" land far north of Sky.  Groomed to rule the small nation, Yeine knows her place and what's expected of her...until her mother is murdered and Yeine finds herself summoned back to Sky by a grandfather she has never met, an invitation with consequences beyond her wildest imaginings.

My Rating: 5 Stars

My Opinion:  As I read the opening lines of this book, my initial reaction was "Oh, no!"  Given the cover taglines ("Gods and mortals.  Power and love.  Death and revenge.  She will inherit them all.") and the melodramatic first few sentences, I thought I was in for a sappy, weepy, weak and woeful heroine, not to mention a cloying writing style.  I have never been so delightfully incorrect, and on both counts!  Nemisin's created a fantasy world quite unlike anything I've read before.  It's a high fantasy epic in terms of scope, but written in extremely personal and relatable prose.  In a land where centuries of privilege have given humans the power of gods, and where gods walk among them chained into mortal bodies, anything is possible.  Yeine is largely a believable and compelling narrator, though her own personality remains somewhat distant.  Fear drives her, and love, and desire, but, as she admits to herself, her goals and aspirations remain nebulous at best.  If the novel were tightly focused onYeine, I don't believe it would be nearly as successful as a story, but she's only one member of a cast of intriguing characters: quietly competent allies, murderous relatives, gods and monsters both human and divine (and sometimes both at once!).  These are the players in a game set in motion at the beginning of time by unfathomable powers, a game in which Yeine is only a pawn.  But, just as in chess, every pawn has the chance to become a queen, and as Yeine comes into her own, I would be interested in seeing her further growth as a charcter.  Thankfully, there's already a sequel, (The Broken Kingdoms, 2011).  I'll look forward to reading it.

Ship Breaker

Title: Ship Breaker

Author: Paolo Bacigalupi

Publisher: Little Brown and Company (2010)

Genre(s): Young Adult Fiction, Dystopian Fiction, Post Apocalyptic Fiction

Length: 323 pages

Synopsis:  In a not-too-distant future, life is grim for the poor.  Nailer is one of them.  He's a member of the "light crew" of ship breakers at Bright Sands Beach, scraping a meager living from tearing apart the oil tankers.  His mother died of sickness, and his father slipped into a haze of violence and drug abuse.  Soon, Nailer himself will be out of a job, too big to scramble into the narrowest crevices of the wrecked ships  for light scavenge, and too small to be of much use on the heavy crews that tear apart the ships' structure.  He's got nothing to look forward to except the occasional sight of clipper ships out on the sea.  They're beautiful craft, white and elegant as a seabird in flight, but Nailer knows he'll never have the chance to see one up close.  Or so he thinks, until a storm brings a him to a very different kind of shipwreck, one that offers him a chance to leave behind the life of a salvager forever. 

My Rating: 4 Stars

My Opinion:  
The popularity of dystopian and post-apocalyptic fiction in the young adult market makes it very difficult for books in this niche to make a statement.  Ship Breaker is a good book; the characters are flawed in ways that are entirely believable.  The best laid plans don't always work out.  Moreover, the environmental disaster that reduced Bacigalpi's world to its current state is completely realistic, as are the long term consequences.  But despite its strengths, the book doesn't quite come alive in ways the reader might hope.  It's certainly a worthwhile read, and very enjoyable, but it didn't resonate in ways that would keep me coming back for rereads, or dashing out to purchase the next book in the series (The Drowned Cities, 2012).  It is refreshing to see dystopian books, however, in which the characters do not immediately set out to overthrow the unjust ruling system.  Perhaps that's where the series will ultimately end up, but Bacigalupi respects his characters enough to let them work on resolving their own problems before they set out to fix the world's. 

Madapple

Title: Madapple

Author: Christina Meldrum

Publisher: Alfred A. Knopf (2008)

Genre(s): Young Adult Fiction, Religion, Mystery, Crime

Length: 404 pages

Synopsis:  Aslaug is her mother’s daughter.  In fact, she knows almost no one else.  Though they live only minutes from a modern town in rural Maine, Maren Hellig has kept her daughter in almost complete isolation.  Their house has curtains tacked over the windows and no electricity or running water.  Aslaug’s understanding of the outside world comes from her mother’s lessons in science and languages, including everything from ancient Greek to the meaning of runes.  But when Maren dies unexpectedly, Aslaug learns that despite all her lessons, her mother had kept  many secrets.  Sent to live with relatives she never knew she had, Aslaug is thrown into a world she doesn’t understand with terrible consequences.

My Rating: 5 Stars

My Opinion:  

This book was quite unexpectedly intriguing.  Its twisted plots unravel mysteries in almost every sense of the word.  Religion winds in amongst science, divinity with evil, dreams with hallucinations, old with new, truth with perception.  The story alternates between Aslaug’s expressive voice and the rigid but misleading half-truths that are laid out in the court records of a murder trial.  As the story unfurls, readers can’t help but wonder themselves what is true and what isn’t.  Nothing seems implausible in Aslaug’s world of science and religion, but questions are more common than answers, whatever the source.  Who, for example, is Aslaug’s father?  Who poisoned her aunt and cousin?  Why did Maren abandon her family to raise her daughter alone?  Every question only poses more, adding momentum to the driving force of the plot.  Madapple isn’t for the faint of heart, however.  It deals with dark realities and poses probing questions about the nature of our world and our relationship to it.  Moreover, the Aslaug’s first-person chapters have a tendency toward stream-of-consciousness, which some readers may find distracting, though I think it perfectly captures her isolation, confusion, and sense of herself.  Though the novel’s geared toward the ever popular and apparently voracious young adult market, it’s one that any mature reader could enjoy, provided he or she is all right with a brief trip down the rabbit-hole into a world that’s anything but wonderful.