Storytime with Courtney

Young Samurai: the Way of the Sword

2010-04-19T21:29:00.000-07:00

I know, I know -- I've been reading like crazy and not posting anything! Let's just ignore it and move on, shall we?

The Way of the Sword is the second book in the Young Samurai series, centered around a young English teen named Jack in the 1600s. Jack was shipwrecked on the coast of Japan, where his father was killed by ninjas attempting to steal his father's rutter (map of the oceans and trade routes). Jack was adopted by a samurai and received formal training in a Kyoto samurai school. In this, his second year, Jack faces increasing hostility toward foreigners and the ever-stalking presence of the green-eyed ninja... looking to claim his father's rutter for an unknown employer. Jack must learn the way of sword if he has any hope of surviving!

This was an enjoyable, though not complex, addition to the series. There are few books for teens that explore world trade and Japanese history in the 1600s. Jack's cultural misunderstandings illuminate how far England was behind the East when it came to medicine, hygiene, and literacy. Characterization is sacrificed for action much of the time, unfortunately, but: ninjas! Samurais! Epic battles! I can think of quite a few teens who would love this action-packed series. It's good for the plot-driven readers among us. I wish I knew someone who knew a lot about this culture and time period, because I'd love to know how accurate the book is.

Verdict: Hand this one to teen boys who think that books are stupid and boring. EVIL NINJAS! You can't go wrong with that.

Food Rules

2010-03-20T10:16:00.000-07:00

I adore Michael Pollan, much as I adore Jamie Oliver: here are two men who want to reclaim food as an enjoyable, communal experience that should remain as close to the source as possible. But I'll admit that Pollan's books sometimes ramble (for me, at least). The Western diet is a crazy panoply of economic, misinformed, corporation-driven weirdness. Point made. The question I'm more interested in is, how do we apply that knowledge to return to a more sensible mode of eating?

This is why I enjoyed Pollan's Food Rules the most of any of his titles. It is a synthesis of the practical applications of The Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food. As he points out, these are simply potential policies that surround his mantra, "Eat food. Mostly plants. Not too much." These "rules" are ways of looking at, conceptualizing, and applying the mantra. Many overlap, but intentionally so. By repeating the same general principles in different ways, Pollan attempts to find a way for every person to connect with at least a few ideas. These are not nutritional edicts. These are just ways to help people make wise choices when they shop and cook.

Verdict: Utterly enjoyable and delightfully concise!

The Children's Book

2010-03-19T10:30:00.000-07:00

Despite the name, this is NOT a children's book! In fact, it is very grown-up fiction by the talented A.S. Byatt, author of the Booker Prize-winning novel Possession. I vote that we skip over the sheer oddness of me reading an adult book amongst my regular YA blitz and just move on.

The Children's Book, set in the late Victorian period, explores the intertwined relationships of several families surrounding children's book author and matriarch Olive Wellwood. It spans the two decades preceding World War I, as well as several countries, multiple monarchs, and a turbulent stew of philosophical and social movements. At 675 pages, it ought to be overlong and bloated... but it is not. The many threads are complicated, intricately interwoven, and densely packed into the allotted space. (I do not know many stories that convey so much on every page.) There are so many characters that purportedly even Byatt herself had to create a spreadsheet to track them all! This is not a story to be read lightly or with half-attention.

While I am unlikely to reread this one for the sheer joy of it, I am very glad to have spent (considerable) time reading it. I was drawn in by Byatt's attention to relationship, particularly. Much historical fiction pimps either the characters or the setting to focus on the other aspect; The Children's Book does not. The relationship between character and setting (including time) in inextricably tight. Every person's development, expectation, and struggle is informed by the environment and time in which they live. Conversely, the setting is informed by the characters (fictional and historical alike) which populate it. One without the other would be incomplete and cheap. Byatt's attention to historical detail and breadth also lends a polish and complexity that I very rarely see. Here is an author who understands the value of research and context!

The relationships between people are equally important. Byatt does not shy away from the reality of people for the sake of poetic license -- her characters are deeply flawed, which lends them the ability to make both striking and terrible choices, as the opportunities present themselves. The intertwined stories never end with marriage or love, nor death or betrayal; these are simply points in the greater continuum of the story, where time pushes relentlessly forward... toward war, toward death, toward progress, toward endlessly cyclical human nature. Incest, rape, lust, love, childbirth, passion, ambition, and bitterness are all matter-of-fact aspects of human relationships. At points, it almost feels horrific in how bluntly the overarching story includes these things. (For example, after one woman gives birth, Byatt refers to the "bleeding sack of her body.") Such things are often glossed over, but in the relationships between these characters, they are necessarily raw and they inform the development of the lives they touch.

It is a very good book. It feeds that English major and amateur historian still lurking somewhere in my soul.

Verdict: Densely packed, tightly woven, and insightful in disturbing, blunt ways. I would hand this to any aspiring author of the Great Novel as an example of a mature, fully realized work that very few will ever to achieve.

I Am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I Want to be Your Class President

2010-03-19T10:17:00.000-07:00

One of the executive producers of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart has written a young adult novel. It is safe to say that you take the show's snarky commentary on world politics, toss in some of the weirder aspects of human nature, and put a deceptively dim-witted middle schooler in as the main character, you've probably imagined this book. Feel free to skip along now and continue about your day.

I wish I had a lot to say about this title, but I really don't. Oliver is an evil genius who secretly runs a global empire while pretending to be a dim-witted 7th grader. He has a secret lair under his house, a polished front man pretending to be in charge, and inevitable Daddy-issues. It's funny, much like The Daily Show is funny. It points to the stupidity of elections, ignorance of the masses, etc. We all love a good evil genius, so that's entertaining too. I particularly like the manipulative vixen Oliver has a crush on; she's a great femme fatal with absolutely no remorse.

But when you get right down to it, this is a book written for adults. The commentary and cynicism will resonate with folks who have already gained distance and perspective as they grow farther from those sweaty puberty years and get further immersed in the vagueries of adulthood. It lacks the immediate insight of Diary of a Wimpy Kid, because it is an adult speaking to a kid, saying, "Look how funny and absurd this is!" (On the other hand, Greg Heffley *is* a middle schooler and speaks directly out of his mundane experience, much the the hilarity of every kid who reads it.)

Verdict: Authors, please realize this: making your character a teenager does not a YA book make. Truly great teen fiction is as well-crafted as adult fiction. This is not it.

Ptolemy's Gate

2010-02-01T20:00:00.000-08:00

I've read this and listened to Ptolemy's Gate before, so I won't go into a fresh review. (I just didn't have another audiobook at hand for my commute.) I'll only say this:

This is a title which is truly strong on its own, yet Simon Jones' narration of the audiobook is even better. I'd recommend the trilogy in any form you wish to consume it!

Going Bovine

2010-01-31T20:00:00.000-08:00

I moped when Marcelo in the Real World did not win the Printz Award this year. (Marcelo is a gorgeous book and I highly recommend it to anyone over the age of 14 -- adults included!) But I knew that I could not nurse that sense of injury for long without reading the actual Printz winner, Going Bovine. If I was going to be self-righteous, I might as well do it without being a hypocrite. A marginal distinction, I grant you, but still one I was willing to make.

Y'all, Going Bovine is weird... but it might deserve the Printz Award. In this strange story, Cameron Smith contracts mad cow disease and ends up on a road trip quest to save the world and find a cure. He is accompanied by Gonzo, a hypochodriac dwarf, and Baldur, a Norse god cursed to appear as a lawn gnome. Cameron is pursued by the fire giants, who wish to kill him, but thankfully has the help of punk angel Dulcie to find his way. It could all be a hallucination of his spongifying brain... or maybe it's real. And maybe it doesn't matter if it is or isn't.

Libba Bray skewers social norms with satire and sheer oddity without harping on them, which works better than you'd ever guess. The book mocks materialism and prosperity gospel and religious cults and sexual obsession, all while admitting that we seek those things to cure a very real emptiness in our lives. Death is a real presence, not a romantic plot device. Cameron is authentic, funny, and strange as hell. It's a smart, funny, and (have you caught on yet?) WEIRD book. Its notable failures come in an excessive amount of set-up (100+ pages) and the need for stronger editing (at a 500+ page finish).

Verdict: A complex, unusual story that exceeds Libba Bray's previous work and deserves the accolades.

Miss Julia Speaks Her Mind

2010-01-22T15:48:00.000-08:00

I picked up the first book in the Miss Julia series on a whim, based on the recommendation of one of my teen patrons at the library. Never heard of it before. Figured it would be either cheesy or a Mitford imitation.

As lovely and comforting as the Mitford novels are, the Miss Julia books spin off into a different world. If the plot were a news blurb, it would be this: Wealthy widow of self-righteous Presbyterian banker takes in dead husband's love child and lover in small-town scandal... and it only gets crazier from there! Miss Julia's search for a voice and independence in the wake of her husband's death is endearing and funny all at once, as she wrestles through the very real ramifications of doing the right thing with a philandering dead husband and a gossiping small town looking over her shoulder. You cannot help but love her. And if you grew up Presbyterian like I did, you will spend quite a bit of time snorting at her endless quests to overcome the session (of elders), the newest building remodel plans, and the Calvinist machinations of the world.

Verdict: It is a truly funny, silly, enjoyable read. I will definitely be treating myself to the rest of the series in-between more serious reading.

Beautiful Creatures

2010-01-18T14:52:00.000-08:00

Confession: about 100 pages into this 500+ page book, I wanted to write an utterly scathing review. "Twilight set in a campy gothic Deep South! Another doomed romance, overlaid with too many episodes of Charmed and excessive melodrama!" I would write.

But I can't.

Don't get me wrong, now. I still think there are many weaknesses to this book, and I am disappointed in it in light of what it could have been. No book ought to take over 200 pages to lay out clear characterization and setting. (I'm looking at you, Tales of the Madman Underground.) Like many young adult books in the past few years, the writing is bloated and it uses cliche hooks -- doomed romance, mysterious girl, disapproving families, a Chosen One, etc. -- to keep readers sticking with it for hundreds of pages until the stage is fully set. If it hadn't been so hot at my library, I may not have stuck with it.

Despite these glaring problems, it offers some wonderful treats. The damage of secrets and half-truths in families and communities; a teen male narrator (so rare lately!); a surprisingly ambiguous ending; a complex supernatural world that was unbelabored and intriguing (despite the over-description of the trite Southern town); confusing loyalties; a naturally unfolding romance (well, as much as can be expected with magic involved); deeply flawed characters... in short, the things that had me reading those last 200 pages compulsively. I can think of more than one reader to whom I'll pass on the title with a wink and a nod this year... if it ever gets off the growing holds list!

Verdict: I expected this to be to Southern gothic fiction what Twilight is to Wuthering Heights, but it is better than that. Garcia and Stohl just need to tighten up that writing (A LOT).

Julie Andrews Collection of Poems, Songs, & Lullabies

2010-01-18T14:37:00.000-08:00

I will confess at the outset that I did not read this in print format; I listened to the audiobook. Can you blame me? Who wouldn't want to hear the poems and lullabies in this book read by Julie Andrews? (Her elocution alone makes me long for the days of finishing schools!) So take this for what it is: a review of the audio version, admittedly absent of consideration for the watercolors that accompany the text.

It is fun. And that's about it. Andrews' collaboration with her daughter, Emma Walton Hamilton, is enjoyable in the shallow way that you enjoy a decent cover of one of your favorite songs. However, it lacks the passion and inspiration that I'd hoped for. The choices of poems and songs for inclusion is truly what Andrews and Hamilton claim them to be: nothing more than their favorites from throughout the years. In that way, my disappointment is a bit unwarranted; after all, they never claimed this collection to be the end all and be all of children's poetry collections. Andrews' reading is delightful, and Hamilton's is adequate. The stories behind their favorites are nice, if what you are interested in is their family life rather than the poems themselves. Nice. It's all just... nice.

Verdict: If I were to purchase a multi-author poetry collection (audio or print!) for my family, I'd still go with John Lithgow's gorgeous romp for all ages, Poets' Corner.

Front & Center

2010-01-10T13:14:00.000-08:00

This book is the follow-up to Dairy Queen and The Off Season, and I ADORE IT. D. J. Schwenk wrestles through what it means to be a part of a team and a family without losing your sense of who you are, with such a lovely and authentic voice. Her fear and confusion is so real, but so is her courage. She's funny, too! I still laugh at the silly little side comments you can miss if you aren't paying attention.

It is a marvelous thing to finish up a trilogy that started strongly and only got better with each book.

Verdict: One of my favorite heroines in teen fiction!

Petronella Saves Nearly Everyone

2010-01-10T13:02:00.000-08:00

Every review I've read says "frothy"... and really, there is no other way to describe it! It felt like being plopped into an Oscar Wilde play, only focused on dresses and cute lords instead of late-Victorian social norms. The inclusion of Uncle Augustus' compulsion towards bug-eating was entertaining.

Verdict: Enjoyable and shallow.