Mock-ing-jay, yeah!

It's always fun to get caught up in one of those mass movements of reading -- that way you can discuss books with complete strangers and/or friends on Facebook. Mockingjay, the final installment in Suzanne Collins' Hunger Games trilogy, suddenly became one of those books this summer. This seemed to catch a lot of people by surprise ... but not those of us who had read the first two installments, Hunger Games and Catching Fire.

The popularity of YA literature in general and dystopian YA lit in particular was recently examined in an insightful essay in the New York Times. I thought this had just dawned on me since I started working in a public library and suddenly had daily contact with YA books. But now that I think about it, I have been reading more stuff intended for young readers since the Harry Potter phenomenon hit the bigtime -- especially Phillip Pullman's magnificent His Dark Materials trilogy (though I feel like I need to go back and read Paradise Lost to really understand it and, darn it, I just haven't gotten around to that). I've also read The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation, Vol. 1, and enjoyed it.

But The Hunger Games and its sequel, Catching Fire, were on a whole different level. They're set in an unspecified future, after the nation has destroyed itself via nuclear weapons and is divided into impoverished districts that are all governed oppressively by the decadent Capitol. One of the methods and symbols of oppression is an annual spectacle called the Hunger Games in which a pair of kids from each district are sent into an arena to fight to the death. Naturally, our heroine, Katniss Everdeen, is chosen in the first eponymous volume. Actually she volunteers -- she's a skilled hunter and outdoorswoman and it's her timid and beloved little sister's name that is drawn on the horrible day.

The final volume is a showdown between the rebel districts and the Capitol and our heroine has become the symbol of the rebellion, the Mockingjay. I'm not going to reveal any further plot points but I'll say that the book is, like its predecessors, compulsively readable and thought provoking at the same time -- more nuanced and multi-level than a lot of your good-versus-evil fantasy tales. I felt a slight sense of letdown for two reasons, neither of which I can blame on Collins. 1) I had elevated expectations, from my own anticipation and abetted by all the public excitement -- I had a similar issue with the final Harry Potter volume. In the future, I'll have to try to wait until after all volumes in a series get published before jumping on the bandwagon. (Yeah, right.) 2) A related problem -- I was reading too fast. I do that when I'm gulping down a book purely for plot, which I was here. I'd like to go back and re-read -- maybe all three volumes since there's only three and they're reasonably sized, not Harry Potter-like tomes. Overall, though, I'll give this one 4 stars and the series as a whole 4 1/2.

Queening it up

I've had an Eleanor of Acquitaine thing for a long time. It hasn't been as virulent as my Elizabeth I thing, probably because there are a lot fewer novels, movies and TV shows made about the Plantagenets than the Tudors. The 12th century was a long time ago and we have a lot less to go on about how they lived, what they wore, said, ate, etc. Still, there's some good stuff -- the book that got me started was A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver by the great E.L. Konigsburg. She's better known for From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, the story of two kids who run away and spend a week or two at the Metropolitan Museum in New York (how DID that woman get away with those crazy hard-to-remember titles???). But her book on Eleanor is superb, especially for a kid who's into history and appreciates a strong woman character. And what a woman! Eleanor was a significant landholder in her own right -- her holdings dwarfed the smaller lands that then made up the kingdom of France -- and she was queen of France AND England, annulling her marriage to Louis of France in order to run off with the future Henry II of England, 12 years her junior. It was an alliance of power and property, to be sure, but appears to have been a love match, too, at least in the beginning. By the end, Eleanor joined her sons in rebellion against their father and when that rebellion failed, was imprisoned by him. After he died, her son Richard the Lionheart let her out and she kept the country together while he went off on crusade, got himself held captive then was killed. Very dramatic all around.

Eleanor is probably best known fictionally via Katharine Hepburn's portrayal in the movie version of The Lion in Winter and that's good, too, though I've always thought the movie came off as one of those stagey let's-take-a-play-and-perform-it-outside-and-call-it-a-movie movies. I prefer the younger Eleanor, the one who insisted on joining her first husband on Crusade and on dumping him for the more suitable young Henry Plantagenet. Now that would make a great movie. Starring Cate Blanchett.

It looks like Eleanor might be coming in for a Tudor-like popular revival -- there are several new novels out about her and I snapped one of them up as soon as it arrived at the library, especially since it was by Alison Weir, a historian/novelist I knew had written a well-regarded popular (as opposed to academic) biography of Eleanor. But I'm sorry to say Captive Queen was a severe disappointment (2 stars). More on that later -- I'm reviewing it for Solares Hill and don't want to scoop myself here -- but it just wasn't good. I checked A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver out of the library just to check up on my Eleanor and found that it holds up very well and was a good reminder of a good fictional treatment (4 1/2 stars!).

I would still like to read a good one meant for adults and I keep seeing references to Sharon Kay Penman's trilogy on Eleanor and Henry II -- When Christ and His Saints Slept, Time and Chance and Devil's Brood. We have all three of them in the library collection -- but they are big books, especially the first, and I just haven't been in the right place to take them on. So instead I went with Penman's mystery series set in the same era, featuring a bishop's bastard son named Justin de Quincy. The first is The Queen's Man (the queen of the title is Eleanor) and found it was a very capable historical mystery. So if you like that Ellis Peters sort of thing, check out this series. (3 1/2 stars). Another enjoyable medieval mystery featuring Eleanor (this time as a murder suspect after the death of Henry's mistress Rosamund de Clifford) is The Serpent's Tale, second in Ariana Franklin's Mistress of the Art of Death series. Finally, one I haven't read but that is recommended by a library patron with whom I am sympatico in literary taste is Eleanor of Acquitaine and the Four Kings by Amy Kelly.  Unfortunately it's not in our library collection but this patron got it via Interlibrary loan -- and you could, too!

I've also started Weir's own biography of Eleanor and am finding it very informative and enjoyable -- which just makes it all the more heartbreaking that the novel turned out so badly. It shows, too, how difficult historical fiction can be. You can have all the settings and facts right, but if the characters are wooden and implausible, it just doesn't work. I should have realized this was a possibility -- Weir's first foray into fiction was a novel about Elizabeth I, whom she has also written about as a biographer. I started that book with the same sort of high hopes and could not proceed past about 50 pages, which is very unusual for me. But I thought her novel about Lady Jane Grey, Innocent Traitor, was just fine, so I thought she'd figured it out.

One last queen: Tudor popularizer extraordinaire Philippa Grey's new series ventures back into Plantagenet territory, with the Wars of the Roses between the Lancasters and the Yorks, the wars which were finally resolved with the arrival of the Tudors.  The second installment arrived at the library recently and I grabbed that one, too. The first in this series, The White Queen, focused on Elizabeth Woodville, who married Edward IV (York).  The second is called The Red Queen and its narrator/heroine is Margaret Beaufort (Lancaster) who was mother of Henry VII (Tudor). It was OK -- better than Captive Queen -- but something of a slog, because Margaret just isn't a very compelling character. She's pious, cold, and ambitious, all of which I'm sure was perfectly normal and appropriate for her time and station but who wants to spend all that time inside her head? I'll give that one 3stars. And I'm looking forward to a small break from all this queenship and a return to the dystopian YA world of Suzanne Collins, with Mockingjay, the final installment in her excellent Hunger Games trilogy.

Too close for comfort

I have an issue with books that touch on subjects close to me, fiction or nonfiction. Maybe it's two issues:

1) They get it wrong, which is irritating on all kinds of levels -- it's kind of like when some out-of-town journalist comes in and writes about your place and those little details that aren't quite right drive you nuts.

Or, 2) They get it right, which is even more uncomfortable and reminds me of my own weaknesses, or things I should have done, or places and people I miss. For these reasons I haven't been able to bring myself to read The Last Resort, Alison Lurie's novel set in Key West. That one will be resolved soon; the novel is the next choice for the library's One Island, One Book program so I will read it, dammit. I also have not read Home Town by Tracy Kidder, which is about Northampton, Massachusetts. Northampton is not, strictly speaking, my hometown although I was born there, but I grew up close by, knew it my whole life and worked there as a newspaper reporter one summer. I had my feet measured at Ted's Boot Shop. I remember when the main street had a hardware store, not a bunch of ice cream shops and trendy boutiques. I know that if you're really from there and not some Smithie/yuppie transplant you call it Hamp, not Noho. Kidder has lived in the region for many years and is a wonderful reporter and writer; there's no reason to fear he's going to get it wrong. I'm more afraid with this one that it will make me question my choice to live my adult life so far from home. This is not the most rational of approaches.

So a couple weeks ago when I started reading reviews of a novel called One Day by David Nicholls I felt a combination of anticipation and dread. Anticipation because this novel was about two people almost exactly my age (they graduate from college in 1988; I graduated in 1989), following their lives connecting and not connecting for the next 20 years. It had a strong endorsement from Nick Hornby, so I knew it was likely to be a highly readable, probably funny novel. But I also knew that even though it is British it might strike uncomfortably close to home.

I ordered it from the library anyway -- there just haven't been that many novels that are so exactly on point for Generation X -- and on just about all counts, I was right. It is highly readable, it is in many ways quite funny and it strikes way too close to home, especially the female lead, Emma Morley. She's smart, an aspiring writer who wants to do good in the world but is insecure about competing with self-promoting media types. The male lead, Dexter Mayhew, did not remind me of me but he reminded me of a few guys I have known and been fond of, even when they behaved badly. He's goodlooking, confident and comes from money, all of which means while Emma is toiling away in a crappy Mexican restaurant then starts teaching at a comprehensive (public in the American sense) high school, Dexter is traveling in Italy and India, then effortlessly launching into a career as a TV host of silly pop culture shows. It doesn't mean he's any happier than Emma, just more commercially successful. And to a few people -- like Emma -- Dexter reveals his own insecurities and his own capacity for kindness and generosity. Even while he is also behaving very very badly.

BIG SPOILER ALERT HERE -- I'M ABOUT TO START TALKING ABOUT KEY PLOT POINTS SO IF YOU WANT TO READ THIS BOOK AND DON'T WANT TO KNOW, STOP READING RIGHT NOW!!!!

Still here? So ... when I finished this novel, I felt upset. Really upset. I was curious about whether Dexter and Emma would ever get together -- they do, of course -- but I suspected Nicholls was going to pull the rug out from under me in some fashion. I was not expecting him to go and kill off one of the protagonists. Naturally, it was Emma, the one I really identified with. So I was upset that Emma died, I was upset that poor Dexter, after finally getting his act together and recognizing the good woman in front of him, was griefstricken ... and I was upset with myself for being so upset about people who are, after all, fictional characters.

What is up with that? I tell myself these people don't really exist, never existed -- but its gets to me far more than it should. Which is I suppose why we read fiction -- to enter another world, find out about other people, get a view into other people's lives and get into their heads the way you never could with a real person. When bad things happen to fictional characters, provided they are fictional characters I have emotionally invested in, it's far more upsetting than when I'm reading nonfiction where plenty of bad things happen to people. This doesn't really make sense -- after all, in nonfiction you're talking about real people who presumably really went through the terrible experience you're reading about. But with fiction you have collaborated in bringing the characters to life for the period of time you're reading about them. That's my excuse anyway. A book with a similar emotional residue was Maggie O'Farrell's "After You'd Gone" -- although that one was less of a shock because of, you know, the title. It's all enough to make me want to go running back to books where I know damned well the ending will be happy -- or possibly nonfiction, where I'm unlikely to get quite as caught up in the interior lives of others.

I'm giving One Day 4 stars -- it's very well done and I didn't mind the premise, in which Nicholls checks in on the characters on a single day each year. Some people have called it gimmicky, but it seemed like a fine structure and worked for a novel covering a 20-year timespan. The day is July 15, St. Swithin's Day, which has no significance for me but apparently the Billy Bragg song was a big inspiration. Give it a read, especially if you're a Gen Xer who's been hankering for some fiction that reflects the lives of our generation.

Oh yeah -- dragons again

I've already gushed several times about my fondness for Naomi Novik's Temeraire series -- it's the Napoleonic Wars ... with dragons! Which sounds a bit silly but as someone who's not a frequent reader of fantasy, I found the series enthralling. I was tipped to it, by the way, from an unlikely source -- the romance site Smart Bitches Trashy Books, where I was scanning through their highly graded reviews (of which there are not that many -- unlike most romance sites, these women are tough graders). I came across the review for His Majesty's Dragon, the first book in the series, and was intrigued, even though I don't think I'd read anything with dragons since an Anne McCaffrey book or two when I was a kid and they didn't really stick. Harry Potter doesn't count. Anyway I rushed through the first five ... and then had to stop and wait for Novik to publish her next one. Which finally happened this month, and I wanted it so badly that I downloaded it onto my Kindle and read it.

(Small diversion here: I find I don't read all that much on the Kindle, since I have such preposterous access to books on the job, but I think it is extremely useful for two things: 1) Classics, which you'd like to read someday but aren't necessarily sitting on your public library shelf. They are way out of copyright and thus cheap as hell on the Kindle -- I have loaded mine up with pretty much all of Dickens, Anthony Trollope and Elizabeth Gaskell and dammit someday I really am going to read them and 2) when a new hardcover comes out that you must have THIS VERY INSTANT and you're not willing to sit around and wait for the library copy to show up -- in that case, the Kindle is cheaper than buying the physical version and has the added attraction of being instant. That was the case, for me, with Tongues of Serpents.)

OK back to the book.

It's been long enough that I actually wish I had gone back and re-read the previous books in the series -- I knew the general outlines of why the characters were where they were (Australia, or as it was called at the time New South Wales) but some of the minor characters escaped me. It would be cool if series novels had little reviews like "previously on" segments of TV shows on DVD. Then again, I could easily have just looked up the earlier books myself on Amazon or LibraryThing or Novik's own website, I suppose.

There wasn't a whole lot of action in this one, in which the dragon Temeraire and his human "handler," more like partner, Laurence are sent across Australia looking first for a potential traveling route and later for a stolen dragon egg. What makes this series so great, though, and this book worth the while if you're already into the series, is the characterization and specifically the relationships between dragons and people. The dragons are intelligent, highly so -- there are ways Temeraire outstrips Laurence, such as mathematics and languages. But the dragons have far less sense of duty to King and country and overwhelming loyalty to one person -- his or her handler -- so persuading the dragon to do what you want can be an interesting negotiation. This is especially true for Temeraire, who was Chinese-bred and has seen China, where dragons are treated far better than in Europe. In the middle of that, the people have to navigate their own worlds where military and diplomatic protocol matter ... but so do morals and ethics. So Laurence, for example, has to deal with the attempts by William Bligh (of Bounty fame) who has been overthrown as the colony's governor and wants Temeraire to help re-install him -- even though it's clear that pretty much everyone on the continent hates his guts and he's a terrible administrator.

But it's not all complicated emotion -- it's all done with a nice light touch and a lot of it is quite funny, especially with the firebreathing dragon Izkierka, whose handler is Laurence's (and Temeraire's) former first lieutenant and who gets some interesting ideas of her own.

Does this all sound crazy? Maybe it is -- but it makes for an interesting setup and all kinds permutations that you could never have in straight-up historical novels of, say, Patrick O'Brian or Bernard Cornwell. I'm giving this one 3.5 stars just because I have high standards for Novik but I still recommend reading it -- though not if it's your first one. This is a series you want to read in order, from the beginning. We have the first four in the series in the collection of the Monroe County Library.

Recent reading roundup

I'm currently immersed in one of this summer's Hot Books -- The Passage by Justin Cronin -- which I'm attempting to read with Salon's Reading Club (look for a future post contrasting that with the One Book One Twitter experience reading American Gods -- the short version is that I like the Salon experience better, at least so far). And there are a couple other titles I've read in the last month between everything else -- though now we've got the cable with the World Cup on and the Tour de France right around the corner so my reading rate could slow right down. (There are three copies of The Passage in the Monroe County Library system, by the way, with two requests pending so if you want this one you should get on the list.) But here's a report on a couple of recent reads before they get too far into the rearview mirror. My Name is Mary Sutter by Robin Oliviera -- historical fiction set during the Civil War about a midwife who longs to become a surgeon, with lots of family drama going on. For some reason, this one just didn't grab me though I did finish it. It struck me as one of those "look how much research I did into the time period" historical novels. That stuff needs to come through not quite so obviously. We do have it in the Monroe County Library collection, just not at the Key West Library. I'll give it 3 stars.

The Big Skinny by Carol Lay -- a graphic memoir (my favorite genre in the graphic format, I'm finding) about a woman's decision, at around the age of 50, to finally lose weight and keep it off. How does she do it? Why, she counts calories and exercises more! Amazing! The book has a great opening where Lay is at a party and some woman is marveling at her weight loss, asks her how she did it -- and is deeply unhappy with Lay's answer. People would prefer there were some magic bullet, of course, rather than the old "eat less and exercise more" answer. The rest of the book is both Lay's story of why she was chronically overweight and the strategies she uses to stay thin. I liked it a lot. Not in the Monroe County Public Library collection, unfortunately -- I got it through Interlibrary Loan (thanks, Palm Beach County!). 4 stars.

American Gods -- Neil Gaiman's novel about a war between the Old Gods (Norse, Egyptian, you name it) and the New Gods (technology, media, etc.) on American terrain was chosen for the inaugural One Book One Twitter read and I jumped on it for two reasons: I'd been meaning to read that book and I was feeling mildly guilty for being Twitterphobic. It was an interesting way to get to know Twitter and I'm glad I finally read some Gaiman. But it wasn't the best way to read a book, especially this book. I wound up finally jumping ahead of the two-to-three-chapters-a-week reading schedule and finishing it in one big rush. And I liked the novel a lot but I'd like to re-read it, not according to some Twitterific schedule. This one, by the way, is in the Key West Library collection. 4 stars.

Speaking of graphic memoirs, or memoirs in graphic novel format, or whatever the hell you want to call them, I'd been meaning to read Stitches by David Small since it came out -- it got fantastic reviews. And we even have it at the library. But I hadn't gotten around to it -- until I was looking at the program for the upcoming ALA conference and saw that Small will be appearing there, along with Time Traveler's Wife author Audrey Niffenegger (whom I had no idea was an artist, too). Anyway it was enough to send me over to our small-but-growing graphic novel collection to check it out on Saturday. I opened it after work and I think I finished it before the sun was down. It's great -- harrowing, for sure -- like all memoirs, in the graphic format unhappy childhoods make terrific narratives. And Small's art is great, too. My favorite in this level is still Alison Bechdel's Fun Home -- but this one is a close second. In fact, the only graphic memoir I think I didn't like was one where the "author" was not the artist. I'm not sure why -- it just didn't feel authentic in some way. But this one did. A great book. 4 1/2 stars.