Review: The Bane Chronicles

I wanted to read all of Cassandra Clare’s Shadowhunter books this year, and at first I was unsure about whether that would include the two volumes of short stories, but clearly I’ve decided not to leave anything out. I just finished reading the first of the short story books, the collaborative The Bane Chronicles by Cassandra Clare, Sarah Rees Brennan, and Maureen Johnson.

About the book: Near the end of City of Heavenly Fire, Magnus Bane gives Alec a little book full of some of the most important adventures of his life. Although The Bane Chronicles is written in the third person, I assume that this is the sort of volume that Alec received. The book contains eleven short stories, all around 50 pages, that take place at various points in Magnus’ long, warlock life.

Here’s a look at the stories –>

“What Really Happened in Peru” : 2 stars. There seems to be little point to this story. It’s a wandering tale that spans centuries, and the explanation at the end of the story does not answer the question that the narration set out to answer in the beginning. Some interesting things happen, and yes, it all takes place in Peru, but otherwise there is no coherence here, and Magnus does not even seem like the familiar Magnus Bane from the novels proper. It’s a weak start for this book.

“The Runaway Queen” : 4 stars. This one does take a more traditional story form, with mounting tension and a clear beginning and end. It starts a little slow, but the rest grabs the reader’s attention in true Cassandra Clare style. Magnus seems like his usual self again and the story feels like one of those crazy Shadowhunter and co. schemes that goes nothing like planned but is entertaining along the way.

” ‘Someday,’ Magnus said, looking at the crumpled royal person at his feet, ‘I must write my memoirs.’ “

“Vampires, Scones, and Edmund Herondale” : 3 stars. I found this one much more interesting than the previous two because it is directly connected to some of the main characters from The Infernal Devices. The backstory in that regard kept me engaged in reading this story, even though again, it was a wandering sort of story more fit to be a chapter in a novel than a complete story within itself. Short stories are supposed to stand alone, even if they connect to other stories, and this one does not.

“Magnus had been alive hundreds of years himself, and yet the simplest things could turn a day into a jewel, and a succession of days into a glittering chain that went on and on. Here was the simplest thing: a pretty girl liked him, and the day shone.”

“One can give up many things for love, but one should not give up oneself.”

“The Midnight Heir” : 3 stars. This one is addictively mysterious, ties even more directly back to The Infernal Devices, and feels just like a chapter from Cassandra Clare’s books. That was the problem with this one, though– it felt like a chapter, not a short story. If you’re not familiar with The Infernal Devices characters and plot, this story will make little sense, and seems to serve more as a glimpse back into that world than as a crucial event in Magnus’ life. Also, I was a little disappointed that the strength of a Tessa/Will/Jem reunion would take attention away from the struggling child in this story– it’s nice to see them again, but… priorities.

“The Rise of the Hotel Dumort” : 3 stars. The strengths of this story are its mystery and impending sense of doom. It’s weakness is that it features two disasters that should probably be linked in some way, but do not seem to be. If there is some connection, readers are left entirely to their own devices in making it. The setting is compelling, and both disasters kept me engaged in the story, but the end was not much of an ending. I believe some information about the vampires’ possible involvement might have tied it all together, but alas, that info was sadly missing.

“Saving Raphael Santiago” : 3 stars. This one starts strong. It opens with a mystery, and with a connection to The Mortal Instruments. It has strong, evocative and emotional prose in places, and the end is satisfying. But the mystery is concluded in the first half of the story, which kills most of the tension. I think this story would’ve benefited from a shorter page count.

“Love did not overcome everything. Love did not always endure. All you had could be taken away, love could be the last thing you had, and then love could be taken too.”

“The Fall of the Hotel Dumort” : 2 stars. Again, we have a mystery of sorts concluded too early, though the drop-off of tension was better managed. Unfortunately, the big details of the story are already clear from The Mortal Instruments– I knew what ailed the vampires because I remembered a comment Magnus made about it in TMI. And one has only to look at the date of this story and of TMI to know what does (or doesn’t) happen to Camille. The worst part though, for me, was the dreary descriptions throughout the story. Much like the underlying sense of gray and rain and confusion in the beginning of Clockwork Angel, the relentless heat and sickness and griminess pervading this story gives an unpleasant atmosphere to the whole story. I wanted to like this one, but all I got from it was a headache.

“What to Buy the Shadowhunter Who Has Everything (And Who You’re Not Officially Dating Anyway)” : 2 stars. I was happy to see some of my Mortal Instruments faves again, but sadly, this story felt more like a forced reunion with them than an actual story. Why couldn’t they have been doing something fun? Seeing Malec from Magnus’ perspective just makes them seem more perfect for each other though, so that’s a plus.

“The best one could hope for from Shadowhunters, if you were a Downworlder, was to be left alone.”

“Even the Shadowhunters Magnus had met and liked had been, every one, a trouble sundae with dark secret cherries on top.”

“The Last Stand of the New York Institute” : 4 stars. This was a step back in time from the last story, but I had been waiting for exactly this story to appear so I didn’t mind the jumble in chronology. The setting is great– the attention to timely matters, particularly– and the characters are portrayed loyally from details provided in The Mortal Instruments and The Infernal Devices. This is the first story in the book that has a strong story arc without relying on dramatic mystery, and there are some great one-liners and avenues for thought about prejudice and equality. The title of the story is a bit misleading, but this is a strong piece of the collection.

“It was one of the few things he had to believe in, the possibility of beauty when faced with the reality of so much ugliness.”

“The Course of True Love (And First Dates)” : 5 stars. Yes. Just yes. A little predictable, especially since the timeline here is in the midst of The Mortal Instruments, but this story is wacky and sweet and as much unexpected fun as City of Bones.

“The Voicemail of Magnus Bane” : 3 stars. Although admittedly humorous, this one does not read like a story at all, which disappointed me. I love when a cool format tells a good story. But there was no plot here, and nothing unexpected after having read The Mortal Instruments. I was hoping to be surprised, but perhaps the only point of redemption for this “story” was the moment Raphael had to call Simon a babelicious rock god.

My overall reaction: 3 out of 5 stars. My average rating was actually 3.1. I want to mention (miscellaneously) that the illustrations at the start of each story were one of my favorite things about this book, but also that I was sad not to see more Mortal Instruments characters make an appearance. It’s fascinating to see a closer perspective from someone outside the main Shadowhunter thoroughfare, and Magnus has proved a great candidate for that– he’s a genuinely kind person, who sees beauty in almost everything, whether it’s a man, a woman, or an elegant piece of clothing. He gives readers a whole new look at Shadowhunters that is multi-faceted and not always flattering. It provides readers a rounder view of the Shadowhunter world by leading them into Downworld, and eventually combining the two very different ways of life. I am glad I gave this one a chance, but I don’t think I’ll ever be rereading it, even if I want to revisit other Shadowhunter books in the future. I will be reading Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy, from the same authors, in the near future.

What’s Next: I’m currently reading Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, which is September’s classic of the month for me, and which I won’t review until my Sept. wrap-up. My next full review should feature Curtis Sittenfeld’s Eligible, a modern retelling of Pride and Prejudice that I’m planning to pick up immediately after finishing with Austen’s classic. But I’m also extremely tempted to pick up one of my Book of the Month choices for September alongside my Pride and Prejudice quest, so don’t be surprised to see an extra review of undetermined title sneak in before Eligible. 😉

Sincerely,

The Literary Elephant

Advertisements

Review: The Blinds

When I came came across Adam Sternbergh’s new release, The Blinds (via BOTM), I was hesitant. It’s described as a speculative Western thriller, which sounded both chaotically fun but also a bit wackier than my normal reading material. The prospect of futuristic cowboys threw me off, but Sheriff Calvin Cooper does not disappoint– considering he’s one of the biggest criminals in town.

About the book: Caesura, Texas– aka The Blinds– is an experiment. 48 convicted criminals have signed on to have their past crimes and traumas wiped from their memories so that they can live in the “safe” environment of Caesura, under new names. 100 miles from civilization, with only a weekly supply truck and a police-use fax machine for contact with the outside world, Caesura has been constructed specifically for this experiment. But eight years after its inception, the experiment may be falling apart. There are deaths. Fires. Vandals. Liaison officers are coming in to investigate, and the outside world is clashing with the closed-off Caesura community. What happens when 48 of the nation’s most notorious criminals who remember their criminality but not their crimes are nudged out of their comfort zone?

“This may not be a prison, and it may not be purgatory, but it’s sure as hell not a paradise, either. This is the Blinds.”

About the format: The book is divided into sections by day, Monday through Friday of one eventful week in western Texas. These sections are further divided into chapters, and the chapters are further divided into smaller sections within. The narration flows smoothly from one character’s perspective to another, sometimes between sections, sometimes between paragraphs with no clear division of where one character’s experience stops and another begins. In this way, the reader is given a sense of the Blinds on a wider scale, which also makes it harder (and more fun) to guess who’s involved in what.

Now let’s talk about the premise. The implications of the memory wipe alone is highly intriguing, but the town… a whole town of convicted criminals fenced in together who may or may not remember key details of their past activities is the perfect literary recipe for disaster. They’re even allowed to leave whenever they want– with the caveat that no one who leaves is allowed to come back. That’s what hooked me. The idea of those 48 criminals, strangers living together by choice, suddenly provoked by the outside world. But Sternbergh is not an author who wins readers with a strong premise and then leaves them dissatisfied with a boring plot– the town is a constant mystery, between the unexplained deaths inside it and the unexpected attention from its outside connections. The characters are a ceaseless surprise with how far they are willing to go, and for what, or for whom. And just when you think you’ve got it down, there’s another level of conspiracy revealed. And none of it would be possible without this unique cast of fogged villains.

“It’s hard enough to live with what you’ve done. It’s immeasurably harder to live with knowing you’ve done something, but not knowing what exactly it is you did.”

The characters are excellent. The writing style, and the present mysterious situation in Caesura, reminds the reader of each character’s humanity, vulnerability, and the promises that have been made to them about their quality of life in Caesura. No matter what crimes they’ve committed in the past, they are all (slightly muddled) citizens of a small town– neighbors, friends, assistants. They work together: the town has a nurse, a librarian, a repairman, a bartender, a commissary man… They’re all just people, looking for a break from the real world, and a fresh start. Some of them will turn out to be surprisingly evil. Some surprisingly good. They are all morally gray (at best), and yet the reader can sympathize with so many of them because at heart, they’re all just fighting to survive.

“The minds of the innocent are simple and so easily explained. The minds of the guilty, however– they are endlessly fascinating, once you really roll up your sleeves.”

I would not call this a thriller, exactly. A mystery, certainly, but the pacing is not as break-neck suspenseful as I usually expect from a thriller. There’s an interesting style used for the reveals in this book though– a little hint that someone knows more than they should about some crime or other, and then the next section of their perspective proceeds as though the reader knows about that crime and that character’s involvement, but then something further happens. The surprise is rarely ever a dramatic whodunnit moment; the surprise comes in the fact that the murder everyone’s concerned about is only the beginning– and that the characters who thinks they’re in charge are just players in someone else’s plot. The surprise comes from the “wait, there’s more?” moments, which happen repeatedly and never disappoint.

It’s not the kind of horror book that will give you nightmares, but be prepared for some criminal details that boggle the mind. There’s not much gore or senseless maliciousness described, but keep in mind that there are at least 48 criminals in this book that even the prisons didn’t want to hold on to.

“Some stories are probably better lost forever, never remembered, never told.”

But The Blinds is not one of them.

My reaction: 4 out of 5 stars. This is a great read. It’s the kind of well-plotted, well-characterized book that anyone who appreciates adult literature should pick up, regardless of genre preference. I wasn’t sure about this one when I looked up its genres, but I’m immensely glad I stepped out of my normal reading zone to give The Blinds a chance. I’ll be keeping an eye on this author in the future, but more immediately I will use this experience to try stepping out of my normal reading zone more often. There are some gems out there in the rarely-reached-for genres. (Who even knew Speculative Western Thriller was a genre?)

Further recommendations:

1. Margaret Atwood’s The Heart Goes Last is another speculative fiction tale with a unique sort of “prison.” In this book, the failing U.S. economy drives whole communities into experimental towns in which the population spends six months in prison voluntarily (half at a time), which creates enough employment and resource for the other half of the town to live on. And every six months, the citizens switch, until things start to go awry…

What’s next: I’m picking up The Bane Chronicles next, a collection of short stories written by Cassandra Clare, Sarah Rees Brennan, and Maureen Johnson. It’s the next stop on my tour through the Shadowhunter books, now that I’ve finished The Mortal Instruments. It’s all about Magnus Bane and his warlock exploits.

Have you dabbled in any unusual genres lately?

Sincerely,

The Literary Elephant

Review: Because You Love to Hate Me

Because You Love to Hate Me is a set of 13 short stories about villainy– the reasons for it, the blurred line between it and heroism, the benefits of it, and so much more. Each story explores a bit of unexpected villainy, leaving the reader to wonder who is truly evil and whether it’s good to be bad. Ameriie, the editor of the collection, opens the book with an introduction about the appeal of villains, especially in YA literature. From there, the collection shifts between the thirteen short stories from current, popular YA authors, and the thirteen prompts and responses from the Booktubers who collaborated with the collection. The response essays take many different forms, either reacting directly to the story they follow, or addressing a broader topic of villainy. Altogether, it’s a thought-provoking book about human nature, and the gray area in our moral codes. And now for a closer look at the stories:

“The Blood of Imuriv” by Renée Ahdieh. 2 stars. The stories are arranged in alphabetical order by author’s last name, which seems fair, but this is a weak story for the book to open with. There’s backstory, speculation, contemplation… but not much action. There seem to be no stakes whatsoever until the very end, and when I did reach the climactic moment, I still wasn’t sure who I was supposed to sympathize with: the killer or the victim. Neither seemed truly “villainous.” The response essay for this one also disappointed me, although I might have liked it more if it hadn’t been the first one in the book. It doesn’t address its story at all, and tries too hard to be funny/whimsical. Further Reading Status: I am still planning to try Ahdieh’s The Wrath and the Dawn, but this story didn’t encourage me to pick it up immediately.

“Jack” by Ameriie. 3 stars. This one has a good plot twist toward the end, but again, it’s slow and low-stakes through much of the story. The writing style is so informal, and I kept thinking this author would have been better suited to telling a story aloud than writing one down. I didn’t understand Jack’s motives for repeatedly climbing the beanstalk, or the giant’s fear of looking below the clouds, though good use is eventually made of both details. I enjoyed the ending, but not much else. The essay also seemed informally conversational, but this conversation was more my style, and I liked the way it used the story to talk about villainy in literature, but also about villainy in the real world. FRS: I would read more from Ameriie only if it came in another book like this in the future.

“Gwen and Art and Lance” by Soman Chainani. 5 stars. This story is written entirely in digital messages passed between the main characters, which grabs and holds the reader’s attention. Chainani uses this medium to subtly display his characters’ personalities, fitting the format and the plot together perfectly. Additionally, he uses a great blend of the traditional and modern King Arthur details; there’s enough history to feel familiar and enough modernity to feel fun and unpredictable. The essay also uses an unusual format to good effect. FRS: I’ve seen so many great reviews about Chainani’s The School for Good and Evil, but I don’t read middle grade books anymore. Nevertheless, I was impressed enough with this story that I’m adding it to my TBR.

“Shirley and Jim” by Susan Dennard. 4 stars. I wouldn’t say this story is atmospheric, but it’s definitely eerie. The characters come across as so mysterious and creepy, holding the reader’s attention even while nothing much seems to be happening (again). The format is a letter to the main character’s best friend, which gives just enough foreshadowing to the story to keep readers engaged before anything villainous goes down. The essay is formatted as emails exchanged between real and unreal persons, which was cool in concept, but felt a bit forced and also as though it were trying to be a story itself rather than a response essay. FRS: undetermined. I’m intrigued about Dennard’s writing now. I might try the first book in the Truthwitch series from the library and just decide from there.

“The Blessing of Little Wants” by Sarah Enni. 3 stars. This story is wonderfully mysterious, but the big secret is too obvious. Luckily, there’s a little more to the ending than the reveal alone. The last sentence leaves so much ambiguity; I like an ending that’s really a beginning, but I wanted to have a better sense of what this beginning was going to mean for this character and her world. There’s so much left open. But I especially enjoyed the essay for this one: it explores the blurred line between good and evil. It’s intelligently done and engaging. FRS: I don’t know if Enni has written under a pseudonym, but I couldn’t find anything else written in her name.

“The Sea Witch” by Marissa Meyer. 4 stars. This one surprised me by being the best Meyer story I’ve read to date. It’s atmospheric and odd, but also well-characterized with that human connection that makes the whole story feel strangely personal. I really wish stories of powerful women had less to do with sadness over certain men not loving them, but this is a story of strength rather than woe, for which I was grateful. I wish some of the secondary characters had been a bit clearer, though; for instance, what makes Lorindel lovable in the first place? The accompanying essay is one of my favorites in the book, fun and also provocative. FRS: The only Meyer books I haven’t read already are Stars Above and Heartless, neither of which I plan to read, although I might read something new from Meyer someday.

“Beautiful Venom” by Cindy Pon. 2 stars. This story brings modern-day rape and victimization issues to the forefront, which in theory is good, but I disliked almost everything else about this story. The main character has so little agency, and 2 of 3 times won’t speak up for herself. She wants neither of the two life paths presented to her, which leaves the reader feeling adrift and confused: what or who are we supposed to be rooting for, when it feels like there are no viable options? I was left wondering whether I should be hoping for the main character to live or die at the end. The essay leans more on the morals of the story than the way the story is presented, which was a good way to play up “Beautiful Venom”‘s single strength–its subject matter. FRS: I won’t be reading more from this author.

“Death Knell” by Victoria Schwab. 5 stars. This is the sort of story I expected from this collection– it’s mysterious, it’s fun, it’s creepy, and it makes you contemplate who the real villain is (in a good way). There’s always something gripping about Death personified, which only adds to the beautiful writing and adept plotting here. I loved every sentence. The essay is formatted as a letter to death, which was one of the most interesting story responses in this book, even if some of the comments in it were less original than others. FRS: I cannot wait to read more Victoria Schwab writing. I’m starting with Vicious (soon, hopefully), and I’m more excited than ever to start.

“Marigold” by Samantha Shannon. 4 stars. I like not knowing who to trust, which becomes a real factor as sanity starts unfolding toward the end of this one. The world-building is great, the backstory is great, the characters are distinct, weird, and surprisingly surprising. I wish I had learned more about Isaac though– who his family is and why his reputation is so important. And why is George so shady? He’s inexplicably knowledgeable in some areas, and his giant ego covers any gaps in his intelligence. But why doesn’t he seem to understand humans? The essay for this one is thought-provoking, and does a great job tying old folklore lessons to this story, and also to modern life. FRS: I am planning to read The Bone Season, and probably further.

“You, You, It’s All About You” by Adam Silvera. 4 stars. Here’s a story that’s creepy and puzzling in the best way, though also unexpectedly violent. The mind manipulation concept is fascinating, and works perfectly with the second-person narration. The last sentence left me rethinking everything, and the essay afterward opens up even more possibilities about what’s really going on. The essay is fun and psychological, and adds extra layers to the story’s potential. FRS: I’ve been vaguely planning to pick up More Happy Than Not at some point, and this story reinforced that desire.

“Julian Breaks Every Rule” by Andrew Smith. 3 stars. This story uses first-person narration, but also directly addresses the reader to bend the line between narrator and audience. This is a story that’s aware of its existence as a story, and gives very NONSUBTLE (and annoying) hints about its foreshadowing. The concept kept me invested, but once I’d reached the end I realized none of the middle action had anything to do with Julian’s decision at the end of the story. All of the information that’s provided to the reader through Julian’s accidental rule-breaking spree is already available to Julian at the beginning, which left me confused about how he reached point B from point A. The essay saved it for me though; it leaves the reader questioning Julian, in a good way. FRS: I’m on the fence. None of Smith’s books really call to me, but I do like some things about his writing style.

“Indigo and Shade” by April Genevieve Tucholke. 4 stars. I found the secret identity of one of the characters in this story much too obvious, but the writing itself and the sense of impending change kept me going. This one is a twist of the Beauty and the Beast tale, which is recognizable from practically the first sentence, but will still surprise readers with its ending. This story feels like magical realism rather than fantasy, but it works. The essay following it is compellingly passionate, and harks back to that intriguing blurred line between hero and villain. FRS: I’ve read Wink Poppy Midnight, and thought I was done with Tucholke, but now I’m thinking I should pick up Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea because apparently sometimes I really like Tucholke’s writing.

“Sera” by Nicola Yoon. 5 stars. While the opening story and essay didn’t feel like the best beginning to me, this one made a great ending. The format switches between present day and one character’s life from birth to present, giving a few different perspectives and calling attention to the problematic nature of villainy along the way. Some villains do not choose evil, but have evil thrust upon them. And maybe they’re better for it. This story is wonderfully creepy but makes realistic points about the moral gray area. The accompanying essay is a sort of (humorous) villainous pep talk that encourages readers to embrace the things that make them different, and it’s another strong ending. FRS: I’ve already read both of Yoon’s published books, but I will definitely keep an eye out for her future releases.

My reaction: 3 out of 5 stars overall. My average rating was actually 3.7. Though I didn’t like all the stories in this collection, and my favorites were almost exactly which ones I expected them to be, I think this book was a great idea, and I had fun sampling the different authors’ stories even when I didn’t think I wanted to read any more of their works. Reading this book was helpful in fine-tuning my TBR, and I would definitely read more like this in the future.

If you’re still reading, thanks for sticking with me! I’m pretty sure this is my longest review to date, but it’s worth the discussion. I had some great quotes marked from this book, but I’ll add them to my monthly wrap-up instead of lengthening this post further.

Coming up next: I’m currently reading Adam Sternbergh’s The Blinds, an adult “speculative Western thriller” that I chose from Book of the Month. A gunshot murder occurs in a closed environment where no one is supposed to possess firearms, which already has me intrigued.

Who’s your favorite villain?

Sincerely,

The Literary Elephant

Review: City of Heavenly Fire

Drum roll, please… because I’ve finished the Mortal Instruments series! I didn’t really expect my Shadowhunter marathon to take me this long when I started rereading City of Bones in January, but I’ve now read nine of Cassandra Clare’s books, and finished both the Infernal Devices trilogy and the Mortal Instruments series, both of which I had started previously and failed to complete. And now the end is here! Sort of. There are a few more Clare books left on my list, but reading City of Heavenly Fire was a big milestone. And it’s a big book, so it’s doubly pleasing to have finished.

About the book: Sebastian/Jonathan wants to rule the world (what’s new?). He couldn’t reach heaven, so he’s raising hell. He’s gathering allies and creating Endarkened forces to battle the Shadowhunters and anyone else who gets in his way. As usual, the Clave is being less than helpful and the real work falls to Clary and co. The problem is that Sebastian wants Clary and Jace beside him, and if it would save the world to hand them over, the Clave might consider making a trade. So when a clue falls into their hands about where Sebastian is hiding, Clary, Jace, Simon, and the Lightwoods set out on their own to end things once and for all– literally, because even if they win, there’s a chance they won’t be returning from this particular trip. With more at stake than ever before, it’s vital that Clary can harness her Rune-creating power, and that Jace can master the Heavenly Fire still raging through his veins; they’re going to need every advantage they can find to prevent total world domination.

” ‘Heroes aren’t always the ones who win,’ she said. ‘They’re the ones who lose, sometimes. But they keep fighting, they keep coming back. They don’t give up. That’s what makes them heroes.’ “

This is a long book. It’s massive. It gives all the same perspectives the reader expects after reading the first five books in this series, plus a few new characters. And yet, despite it’s size, City of Heavenly Fire is not slow and bogged down with detail as I feared. There are a few repetitive conversations, but for the most part all the information feels new and vital to the story. Unlike some of Clare’s other long books, I don’t think this one would benefit from any shortening.

“I think sometimes we are reckless with our hearts the way we are with our lives. When we give them away, we give every piece. And if we do not get what we so desperately needed, how do we live?”

The characters feel older in this final volume. So little time has actually passed– six months, I think– but all of these characters feel so much more mature than where this series started out. They’re still teenagers, and a few of the newer characters to the series are even younger, but Clary, Jace, Simon, Isabelle and Alec… they’re familiar at this point, and the reader knows they can fight and strategize and persevere. The going may be tough, but now they have experience. Their friendship is stable and reliable. The reader is expected to know what they’ve been through together, because the narration isn’t dropping those constant, lengthy, annoying recaps that series sometimes use. The characters have come to feel like family, for better or worse.

“There are things we want, down under what we know, under even what we feel. There are things our souls want, and mine wants you.”

One of the best things about Clare’s books are the overlapping details. Between the (last half of the) Mortal Instruments and the (entire) Infernal Devices, there are small clues to a bigger picture, and together the two time frames begin to construct a history, an entire world that extends beyond a single book, or in this case even a single series, and that makes Clare’s entire fictional universe so much bigger. I read Clare’s first nine books in publication order, and I think that’s a great way to go, but it seems like the distribution of detail would be interesting to read in other arrangements as well. If I do another big reread marathon someday, I’ll want to pick up these books in a different order, and I think the detail and the morals will be just as rich.

“Because the world isn’t divided into the special and the ordinary. As long as you have a soul and free will, you can be anything, do anything, choose anything.”

A downside, though, is that I think for these first two Shadowhunter series at least, the reader must read all nine novels to learn the entire story. There are little pieces that just don’t entirely make sense otherwise. For example, Clary meets Tessa in City of Heavenly Fire, and if the reader doesn’t understand who Tessa is, or how her friends connect to Clary’s, Tessa seems entirely inconsequential to the book. Nothing important happens in their meeting beyond the fact that they’re meeting, which is something that readers won’t care about without reading the Infernal Devices trilogy in conjunction with the Mortal Instruments. This is only one example; there are so many little comments and details that tie the two series together, so I highly recommend reading both sets together.

“So much magic, Clary though, and nothing to mend a broken heart.”

A little compare and contrast: I rated the Mortal Instruments books and the Infernal Devices books very similarly, but now that I’ve completed them both, I must say that I enjoyed the Mortal Instruments books a lot more. The plot is more action-packed, each character feels important to the story, the wrap-up is emotional but it’s still focused primarily on the events of the series. I found the Mortal Instruments less overly-dramatic, and also funnier.

“I was going to kill someone today. I just wasn’t sure who when I woke up this morning. I do love mornings. So full of possibilities.”

The biggest disappointment for me– in all of Clare’s books that I’ve read so far– is the Clave. The individual members that the reader sees seem so human and comprehensible, but somehow when all the big decisions get made, the Clave seems to repeatedly (and obviously) choose incorrectly. I kept thinking this series would end with some equality between all the different species we see coming together in these books, or at least with a repairing of a clearly defunct government system that might one day lead to equality. I can understand that Clare wants to end her books with room for future strife, but how long is it really going to take the Shadowhunters to realize that they’ll save a lot of lives and make a lot fewer enemies if they’ll try something different? I’m still hoping that a better balance of power will be reached in later books, although I’m not sure how many more hundreds of pages I’ll be willing to read to find out.

“Have you ever felt that your heart contained so much that it must surely break apart?”

My reaction: 4 out of 5 stars. This has been one of my favorite Cassandra Clare reads to date. Definitely in the top 3, though I don’t have an official listing of the order of my favorites and dislikes. I’m planning to move on to The Bane Chronicles soon, which was Clare’s next publication after the end of the Mortal Instruments series. It’s a short story collection with other contributing authors, so I’m a little wary, but I’m a lot more intrigued about it after City of Heavenly Fire than I ever have been before.

Coming up next: I’m currently reading the collaborative new release Because You Love to Hate Me, a short story collection about villains collected from a dozen or so popular YA authors. Big name bloggers and booktubers also contributed to this one, but I’m primarily reading it as a sampling of authors, to help me decide which writers I might want to see more from, and which ones I’ll want to skip. Also, it’s all about villains, which is fun to experience.

Who’s your favorite YA fantasy author?

Sincerely,

The Literary Elephant

August Reading Wrap-Up

I had a reasonable August TBR for about a week. But I’m never really reasonable about how many books I want to read, so the second week in August I added six more books and doomed myself to fail again at reading everything I wanted to this month.  Nevertheless, I’m happy with my progress (especially with a really long novel included!) and I did stick to my (extended) TBR. It was a great reading month for me. 🙂 Here’s what I read in August:

(As always, you can find more information about these books in my full reviews by following the links through the titles. Classics are only reviewed in these wrap-ups, so the paragraphs for those are longer here, and there is no link to a complete review, but I would be happy to discuss them further in the comments!)

1. The Annotated Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson and Simon Barker-Benfield. 4 out of 5 stars. This book was my classic of the month for July, but I finished it in early August. I had a lot of fun with this one, but I think I would’ve had a very different reaction to it if I had read a copy without the extensive annotations and illustrations. In my experience, there are two types of annotations: the notes that explain words and phrases to help the reader comprehend the events of the story, and the notes that go into depth about details behind the story. These latter notes are nonessential to the story, but they provide context that’s interesting if not exactly helpful. This copy of Treasure Island used both sets, and made no effort to distinguish between them, which meant both that I was spared having to look up or gloss over technical sea terms I was unfamiliar with, but also that I was bogged down with more facts about naval life in the 1700s than I wanted to be while in the middle of a story. The introduction to this book was especially rife with background details, and I couldn’t get through it at all before starting the book proper, but after finishing the novel I went back to the introduction and was much more interested in picking out sections that pertained to my favorite parts of the story. So I was glad to have the choice of the additional information, but I wish it had been categorized a little differently so that I could read the story and the notes that were necessary to understanding it, and then peruse the extra information later, after the novel had piqued my interest. I think I would’ve read this book faster and not gotten so tired while reading it if I hadn’t tried reading all the annotations. But the story itself was a great journey. I find pirates so intriguing, and yet I know so little of them beyond modern stereotypes, so it was fascinating to see them in action. The plot twists were wonderful and truly tense at times, the characters colorful and often unpredictable, and the writing easy to follow. I love the beautiful edition that I read, although it was maybe not the best choice for an introduction to Robert Louis Stevenson. Nevertheless, I will be reading more of his works in the future.
2. The Lying Game by Ruth Ware. 3 out of 5 stars. I was really surprised that I didn’t love this one, because I loved Ware’s previous two books so much more than I expected. This one was very different than the first two, which isn’t bad in itself, but I didn’t think it was as well done as Ware’s other books. And yet, even though I was a bit disappointed with it, I still love her writing and will absolutely be reading Ware’s next book. It wasn’t what I was looking for, but I still enjoyed reading it.
3. Final Girls by Riley Sager. 5 out of 5 stars. And this book surprised me with how much I ended up loving it. At first it seemed a little predictable and cheesy, like one of those old slasher films that are only scary when someone jumps out of a corner with a knife, but the killer really surprised me and the writing was addictive. It was so easy and quick to read, I finished this book in one day, and once it found its footing the twists were great. This is more like what I expected from Ruth Ware, so I was glad I read these back to back and still got my thriller fix.
4. Stardust by Neil Gaiman. 3 out of 5 stars. I did like this one, and was especially appreciative of the way it ended, but the episodic nature of the story made it drag a bit for me and I couldn’t rate it higher after having been so happy to have reached the end. Nevertheless, I did like many of the characters and their wacky details, and I still intend to read more of Gaiman’s books in the future. I’m glad I read this one, but I don’t think it will ever be counted among my favorites of Gaiman’s books. I do think it will appeal more to readers of adventure stories than it did to me this month, though.
5. Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie. 4 out of 5 stars. This has been my favorite Christie novel to date, and I can’t wait for the November release of the new movie adaptation. This was a Christie novel that made me want to read more Christie novels, and the ending was superb– frightening and funny at the same time. I’m not entirely sure, but I think this was my first Hercule Poirot read– I believe I’ve only read Christie’s stand-alone mysteries before this one, and I think I’ll have to change that habit after having enjoyed this one so thoroughly. Luckily, I don’t think the Poirot series needs to be read in any particular order. I must have more!
6. A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin. 4 out of 5 stars. I love Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire world. In many ways, this sequel seemed exactly the same as the first book– compelling, character-driven, slightly magical, detail-oriented, etc. But it dragged a little more than the first book did for me. There are still great twists and the pacing does speed up at times, but I enjoyed reading book one more than book two. (Although I did like season two of the TV show better than season one.) I just didn’t care as much about the semantics of the politics in King’s Landing when so much else was going on elsewhere. Nevertheless, I’m eagerly anticipating picking up book three soon and continuing through the story.
7. Midnight at the Electric by Jodi Lynn Anderson. 3 out of 5 stars. Here’s an author I loved back when I was reading almost exclusively YA– back when I was actually in the typical Young Adult age range. Picking up a new book from an old favorite author is a nod I like to make every now and then to my younger self, and that’s what this book was for me. It didn’t impress me as much as I’d hoped (YA rarely does these days), but this was an enjoyable read that piqued my interest in certain animals and areas of history that appear in the novel, which is generally a marker of a successful book, in my opinion.
8. Exit West by Mohsin Hamid. 4 out of 5 stars. I’ve had this one on my radar for months, but was newly inspired to pick it up when I saw it on the Man Booker Prize longlist. There are more books I want to read from that list, but this one stood out to me– a magical realism story of love between a couple fleeing their war-torn country. It was everything I expected, and opened up whole avenues of thought that I haven’t touched on in too long. After reading this, I’m pretty excited about picking up more longlisters that I’d been putting off this year.
9. Fierce Kingdom by Gin Phillips. 4 out of 5 stars. A Book of the Month selection from August (yay! I read it within the month!) about a gunman loose at a zoo. The most intriguing aspect of this book was the fact that it takes place in just over 3 hours on a single evening. Once I started reading, I added to that intrigue the fact that very little happens, and yet it is a consistently engaging book. This is a psychological thriller for a certain sort of reader, and I am that sort. I was hooked from page one, and finished the book in just over 24 hours, without really trying.
10. The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien. 4 out of 5 stars. I was supposed to read Dumas’ The Count of Monte Cristo this month as my classic, but I swapped it for The Hobbit instead, and I’m glad I did. Some of the description dragged a bit for me, but I enjoyed the plot and the way all the characters and details wove together in the end. I’m really glad I decided to read this in the midst of Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series, because there are definitely some interesting points of comparison between the two, though nothing plot-wise that makes them feel like the same story retold. This is the sort of story I was hoping for when I picked up Gaiman’s Stardust, and there are similarities there as well, but I think I appreciated The Hobbit more this month for having read it with those other fantasy books in fresh in mind. I found Gandalf especially intriguing, and loved the narration style. This is not a book I would recommend racing through quickly, but I would definitely recommend picking it up if you’re at all interested in the fantasy genre.

I can hardly believe that I finished reading 10 books this month, especially with A Clash of Kings in the mix, at 969 pages. There were also some shorter books this month, so maybe that helped balance the numbers. In any case, I’m happy with where I stand right now, even though there are two books on my TBR for the month that I didn’t get around to. One of them was City of Heavenly Fire, which I’m reading now, and the other was The Invasion of the Tearling, which I still hope to read soon, after I’ve had a little break from fantasy. But a good reading month like this puts me in a great reading mood going forward, so hopefully I’ll have more good months coming up.

What did you read in August? Have you read any of these books (even if not in August)? What did you think?

Sincerely,

The Literary Elephant

Review: The Hobbit

I cannot even count the number of people who have recommended this book to me over the years, or even the exact number of years I’ve been putting it off. But here is The Hobbit, my 77th book of 2017 (my goal was 73, so that was a happy realization), and my first foray into Tolkien’s oeuvre.

About the book: Bilbo Baggins is a hobbit. He lives a happy hobbit life in his hobbit-hole home under a pleasant hill. Hobbits are not usually adventurous, but when Bilbo finds himself hosting thirteen dwarfs and a wizard for tea one day, he learns of an adventure just beginning and finds himself swept along in it. The adventure is a quest– the dwarfs want to travel back to their old homeland, overthrow the dragon that has taken residence there, and thus reclaim their palace and treasure. They are each to be rewarded for their trouble with gold and silver and precious gemstones when the treasure is recovered. That is, if they can survive the harsh landscape and dangerous magical creatures they encounter along the way.

“…and they all felt that the adventure was far more dangerous than they had thought, while all the time, even if they passed all the perils of the road, the dragon was waiting at the end.”

Here we have an adventure story, arguably the quintessential adventure story, although Treasure Island could also make a good case for that title. As with many adventure tales, this book is largely episodic in nature, meaning a lot of small plots are strung together consecutively in one long linked chain. Knowing the gist of the quest from the beginning of the story helps combat the chaos of the journey, as does the narrator’s foreshadowing in places where the story seems prone to wandering (episodic tales are generally full of chaos and wanderings, and lack the typical rise and fall of tension that begins with a single problem, is faced with obstacles, finds its climax in some sort of confrontation and then resolves, whether for better or worse. In episodic tales, the tension rises and falls repeatedly through multiple climactic moments and resolutions). The Hobbit uses a mix of both main plot types by laying the episodic adventure over a traditional plot arc with gradually mounting tension.

“Now is the time for our esteemed Mr. Baggins, who has proved himself a good companion on our long road, and a hobbit full of courage and resource far exceeding his size, and if I may say so possessed of good luck far exceeding the usual allowance– now is the time for him to perform the service for which he was included in our Company; now it the time for him to earn his Reward.”

The best aspect of The Hobbit, as I saw it, was the narration itself. The tale is told from some third-person perspective that knows future and past, can see various characters’ thoughts and motivations, addresses the reader directly, and acts as a general all-knowing guide to Middle-earth. There is a time in the book when Bilbo Baggins is said to be writing a memoir, and I find myself attracted to the idea that Baggins himself is the narrator of this tale, relying on accumulated knowledge of magical creatures and the parts of the story that must have been told to him in order to present himself as a nearly omniscient narrator.

“I may be a burglar– or so they say: personally I never really felt like one– but I am an honest one, I hope, more or less.”

I was also fascinated by Gandolf. He seems to be a fallible creature, and yet he’s always in the right place at the right time, or in the wrong place at the right time so that things work out in a certain favorable way that they wouldn’t have been able to if he were present. He speaks of prophecy to Baggins, and though not much is discussed about it, I like to believe that he was so sure of Biblo’s skill and luck and general agreeableness due to some unmentioned prophecy. There is no other explanation given for his insistence on Bilbo Baggins accompanying the dwarfs on their journey, and for his surety that the hobbit is just the “burglar” they need. I would’ve loved to learn more about him, and I hope he makes a reapparance in the Lord of the Rings trilogy (I really don’t know anything about it, please don’t spoil me).

“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”

The songs woven throughout the story are also highly entertaining, especially when the reader tries to put a tune to them while reading. 🙂

My reaction: 4 out of 5 stars. I really haven’t been in the mood for episodic stories lately, but there was just enough of a traditional plot arc to get me through this one. The quest is mapped out early, so I had no difficulty reading through all the small mishaps along the way to the Lonely Mountain, knowing that there would a battle for the treasure at the end of the tale that would give the journey purpose. I highly enjoyed Tolkien’s narrative style, and am definitely planning to continue with The Fellowship of the Ring, though I think I’ll wait until I’ve finished the Song of Ice and Fire series first to keep my fantasy details straight. I found a lot of little details in The Hobbit that reminded me of details from Martin’s series, and I wasn’t surprised– I would be more surprised if you could point me to a fantasy writer who wasn’t in some way inspired by Tolkien’s Middle-earth.

Further recommendations:

1. The Chronicles of Narnia is a phenomenal adventure saga for readers young and old alike who area after fantastic journeys and magical creatures. The Magician King, by C. S. Lewis, is the first Narnia book (in chronological order, which I recommend), and it’s both easily readable and utterly engrossing.
2. Neil Gaiman’s Stardust would be a great choice of fantasy for adult readers who are looking for something short and sweet and very reminiscent of The Hobbit. This one follows a boy who travels beyond the village of Wall to retrieve a fallen star for the girl he thinks he loves, and finds a whole world of adventure.
3. I you’re not afraid of a long book, pick up George R. R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones. I know the size of the novels in his Song of Ice and Fire series are intimidating, but they are worth the time. There are some similar elements of world-building between Martin and Tolkien, although A Game of Thrones is much more political and character-driven.
4. For more adventure stories without all the fantasy elements, try Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island, the story of a teenage boy setting off with pirates in search of hidden gold. There’s no magic in this one, but if you like the constant misadventures of The Hobbit and don’t mind learning some nautical terms, you’ll enjoy this one just as much.

Coming up Next: I’ve just picked up Cassandra Clare’s City of Heavenly Fire, the final book in the Mortal Instruments series. It’s immensely long and I won’t be finishing it by the end of the month (which is only a few hours away), but I’m eager to see how it all ends for Clace and Simon and the Lightwoods et al, so I’m predicting that it won’t take me long to finish this one.

Sincerely,

The Literary Elephant

Review: Fierce Kingdom

As excited as I am about each of the books I choose from Book of the Month Club, I’m acquiring a little backlog of them. So I’m proud of myself for reading at least one of my (two) new August selections within the month! It wasn’t only satisfying to cross a title off a list, though– Gin Phillips’ Fierce Kingdom is an incredible read.

About the book: Joan and her four year-old son, Lincoln, frequently spend their afternoons in the zoo after Lincoln’s school session. On this day, though, they’re far back in the children’s play area, completely alone, and cutting it close to make it back to the gates before closing time. Joan hears a noise she can’t place, until she sees bodies littering the ground on the path to the zoo’s exit. She spends the next three hours running and hiding from gunshots and “bad men,” trying to keep her son quietly obedient without frightening him. Animals are loose, the few straggling visitors who were trying to leave just before closing are running amok, and unexplained gunshots cut through the air near and far as night falls and the police fail to take the situation under control.

“The glass makes all the difference. A dog or cat– a domesticated thing– is totally different. A wild animal in front of you, not a pet but a real animal, is every impulse all at once. You believe it is sweet and affectionate, and this can be true, but it will also make you bleed without remorse. […] You cannot know a wild thing.”

There are a lot of great technical aspects to this book– the level of suspense worked into those three hours of panic, the focus on the psychology of the characters, the setting of the zoo, the age of the boy, the careful but not-boring descriptions of each feature of the zoo. But there are also a few details that felt weak. For instance, there are chapters mixed in with Joan’s that highlight the other characters’ perspectives. Is the purpose of these chapters to humanize the characters and make the reader more sympathetic to each of their cases? If that’s true, I think they’ve failed. Joan has such a level of observation that we learn more about these other characters, and perhaps feel sorrier for them, when we see them through her eyes. With the exception of the chapters of the gunman’s perspective, which add suspense to Joan’s terror (although they don’t give the reader much explanation of his motives, which feels like another failure), the book would’ve been stronger if it eliminated those extra chapters and stuck to Joan.

“The outside world is irrelevant. It is, somehow, clarifying to feel her shirt snagging against the bricks behind her and to feel the pain in her left shoulder where Lincoln’s weight pulls and to know that it is only the two of them, and it has been from the beginning.”

I also thought some of the plot details went a bit wonky. For one thing, there’s a time when Joan finds a supposedly soundproof room. She’s suspicious of how safe and soundproof it really is, and yet even as the girl who opens the room is talking about hearing the vibration of the vending machines through the walls, and the sound of a door opening, and the shots from the gunman, Joan never seems to pick up on these details as proof that sound passes through the room.

I was also skeptical of Joan’s inuries. She’s only in the zoo for three hours, large chunks of which are spent in stationary hiding. She’s resourceful. So it surprised me that she would be so careless about wounds– that she wouldn’t seem to mind at all when injury happened accidentally, that occasionally she would cause or exacerbate her own injuries, and that when she noticed she was injured she did nothing to care for the wounds. She seems like the sort of person who would be conscious of the dangers of blood loss or an inability to move certain parts of her body. She’s worried from the beginning about her sandal breaking, but she never takes a moment to check it and see if anything can be done to prevent that. Carelessness about her personal well-being is, to an extent, understandable while she’s so concerned with her son’s safety, but she can’t keep him safe if she’s dead. It doesn’t make sense for her to be so observant about everything around her and yet remain so blind to her own condition.

“She wonders, again, if God is punishing her for thinking her child is more important that the other woman’s child. She would do it again in a heartbeat, cannot really regret it even with the guilt weighing on her like wet wool, and she wonders, sometimes, about her ideas of God.”

Fierce Kingdom‘s strength lies in the shocking psychological layer to the thrilling tale. There is not a lot of fast-paced action, although there is some, but the real thrill originates in the shock value of what this mother will do or not do to keep her own son quiet, hidden, and safe. Would she separate from her son? Would she face a gunman? Would she face a loosed animal? How will she act toward the other people fleeing and fighting for their lives? How far will desperation drive her to go?

“This would be different if she were alone. If she had been strolling through the zoo by herself when the gunfire started. She would have run, surely. She would have hidden. But then what? She is reasonably strong and reasonably fast, and she is smart, and if she were alone, she would by now have decided that she should not be waiting around for anyone to save her.”

My reaction: 4 out of 5 stars. I’ve seen mixed reviews for this one, so I started out a little wary; I was pleasantly surprised. You know that tone of writing in thrillers that keeps the reader feeling like something’s off even before the action starts? This book gave me that feeling from the first page to the last one, and constantly kept me guessing even though it’s more of a race against the clock than a mystery. This isn’t a tale of a quest for answers, it’s an exploration of humanity, and it felt alarmingly plausible. Another BOTM win. 🙂

Further recommendations:

1. If you like new psychological thrillers with an eerie atmosphere and a close look at character, check out Ruth Ware’s new release, The Lying Game. Although the plot of this one is very different (a murder mystery involving four girls who did something stupid in their days of new teenage friendship), there is also a small child in this one, with a protective mother who must stay one step ahead of the danger.
2. Another new psychological thriller choice with high stakes and introspective focus is Paula Hawkins’ Into the Water, a well-crafted mystery of women who’ve turned up dead in the Drowning Pool. Practically everyone in town looks suspicious in one way or another, but someone knows the truth.

What’s next: I’m currently reading J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, which is a classic fantasy/adventure that I know some small details of (Gandolf, a ring, a quest, a dragon, etc.) but not much else yet. I tend to start my classic of the month too late, but I think I will finish this one before the end of the month, and (/because) I think I’ll enjoy it.

Do you prefer classics with solid reviews behind them, or new releases you can help the book community “discover” by taking a chance before it’s proven to be great?

Sincerely,

The Literary Elephant