Time To Flesh Out The 'City Of Bones'

I thought my days of reviewing books with shirtless men on the cover was over but hey, c'est la vie, as the song goes. The Mortal Instruments series seems to have become a synonym for fantasy, and, after all, it had a movie so it must be pretty well liked and therefore relatively excellent (then again so did Twilight, but let's not get off on the wrong foot here). I was lucky enough it get a copy of City Of Bones by Cassandra Clare to read, thanks to Walker Books, and I've had a pretty mixed reaction to it.

To begin with, I should say, I had biased opinions left, right and centre about this book before even reading it, so I entered it with dazed preconceptions and an odd sense of foreboding, but I was pleasantly surprised. The world created, whilst not altogether original, had its own personal quirks and twists, including vampires on motorcycles, magic tattoos and the witch that lives downstairs. Most importantly, it never took itself too seriously in these quirks. This worked through Simon as a non-magic relief from the constant glowering shadow of the Shadowhunter world. Oddly, I found Simon a hell load more endearing than the ShadowHunter teens (Jace particularly, but Alec at points), and there were moments where he broke from his comic persona to have quite moving character development. The plot itself was a rollacoaster and surprisingly sustaining for a book of this size, with more twists and turns than I even bothered counting after a while, although this did fall down towards the end of the story where every plot twist became less and less unexpected. This was not because the plot was easily guessed, but because you can only gasp for so long before you run out of air, but, as I said, the plot held its own in a novel where it could easily have overstayed its welcome.

However, I noticed that, whilst being more-ish as chocolate digestives in terms of wanting to know what happens in the next volume of this saga, there are an awful lot of problems with it that nearly stop me from doing so. Firstly, why is it seemingly impossible to have a fantasy heroine who everyone is not in love with? Not only does everyone seem to overwhelming adore Clary (paternally or romantically), but she brushes up against Mary Sue territory about it. I find this particularly frustrating as a) the love triangle plot has been done until death and burial, and it is beginning to decompose at this juncture, but also b) because the book would have worked out better had there only been one romance subplot running around. I even believe I can say this without spoiler, because men's feelings for Clary in the novel are immediately and painfully obvious from the moment they're introduced, and are then cemented my Clary's constant doubt in her own appearance and talent. I do tend to rant a little about this, but it's wearing, particularly when the novel itself is actually pretty gripping, with very few feelings of sluggishness in terms of pace.

So I have a lot of mixed feelings about this novel, mainly in a feeling of "it's good, but is it enough to justify Clary" kind of way. The best way I can think of to sum up City Of Bones is that it's a little like if Apple had brought out a tablet for the first time, and whilst bring brilliantly fast and well designed, it was also painted with bright tiger stripes on either side. It's playing to a niche market, but being honest, if it works and plays Netflix, you'll probably buy it anyway. 

The Shocking Truth Is That 'We Were Liars'

I have heard a lot about E. Lockhart's 'We Were Liars' without really hearing anything at all, and, from reading it, I now understand why. It is a book that is almost impossible to review without spoiling, a book so impossible to navigate through with a linear description because of its mystery. But I've got nothing else for you guys this week, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.

In most books, there is a core theme that holds all the bits together whether it be romance, adventure quest, what have you. In 'We Were Liars', I am torn as to whether this device is fear or suspense. I certainly became afraid whilst reading the novel, and I was holding my breath, tapping my tablet with rocket speed to get to the next page at points, as the suspense was so strong, but I remain on the fence as to which of these two dominates the other. Before anyone says it, though similar, these two do not have the same effect, and, whilst reading it before Great British Bake Off did kill my cookie-induced calm, I am a great appreciator of the uses of both fear and suspense in this novel. Despite the fact that a private island has become a hell of a lot less attractive now, Lockhart really sells the creepy sense of fear in the novel, married perfectly to its underlying terrifying tone.

I did have a few small practical concerns with this book, I’ll admit, and I’ll insert a quick disclaimer here, whilst I normally attempt to be a spoiler free as possible, there will be hints of plot (only hints, but still) in this section of the review. Right, now that’s said, I will begin by noting that it seemed incredibly odd to me that they were seemingly able to stop children, who could not even restrain themselves from calling their cousin a drug addict in one section of the novel (I warned about spoilers!), from spilling the whole truth about everything that happens to Cady. The secrecy that surrounds her life is maintained by every character, even small children, who also, oddly again, seem undamaged by the slow but extremely noticeable deterioration to their family structure. This was another minor practical issue I had. The ‘littles’ as they are referred to, seem untouched by all the tragedy that’s around them to a larger extent, whilst everyone else is falling apart. And, again I’m trying not to spoil totally, it is not as if the tragedy would not affect them directly: it most certainly would. However, there could be two good explanations for this in that firstly, Cady is definitely an unreliable narrator for multiple reasons, and secondly, the littles are not a focus, so even if they were falling apart, it’s not that noticeable to Cady who only notices the liars, so I may have to let my quibbles slide.

Ignoring the minor nit-picks I had with the practicality issues, I believe I have navigated myself to a spoiler-free conclusion about 'We Were Liars' and that is, for a novel as brief as it is, it truly has a hard-hitting and powerful presence. With its slow-growing sense of dread and it's frank and frightening honesty, this novel really brings a beautifully broken life into view.

Excitement Is But 'Seconds' Away

I may have gone a little overboard on the whole graphic novel adoration in recompense for my neglect, but this was not an opportunity to not review (if that makes sense). Thanks to the lovely folks as Abrams & Chronicle, I was able to get my desperate hands on a copy of ‘Seconds’ by Bryan Lee O’Malley. Even now, as I stare at its glowing, red cover on my desk, remembering what it was like to read it makes me, to put it eloquently, squiggly inside with happiness.
                The first thing I must say about this book is simply this: it’s beautiful. Not pretty, not quirky, beautiful. I would say it once again if it were not a word of diminishing returns (also my need to maintain the counter-culture, looks-aren’t-as-important-as-personality demeanour I’m developing on this blog). The colour, the setting, the style, all of it is just wonderful to read. I am a blank canvas (pun intended) in terms of art and illustration, but I can tell when it builds beautifully with a narrative and this is done so wonderfully in  ‘Seconds’. All aspects of this book’s aesthetic marry perfectly its comedy with its tragic side, which, though it may be a balancing act, works so well in this rather frank novel.
                One of the best aspects of this book as a whole is using Katie as the protagonist. She is certainly no Mary Sue, and this only the beginning of what makes her endearing. Similar to O’Malley’s other notorious hero Scott Pilgrim, Katie is unashamed by taking the easy way out, she can be cowardly at times and she is often pretty damn selfish. She has, what I have come to call, ‘Holden Caulfield Syndrome’, but oddly enough she wears it better than most, and comes across in a way that is more flawed human than obnoxious pain. She’s surrounded by other characters who call her out on her mistakes rather than happily ignoring them, which seriously helps, particularly because, personally, I think ‘Seconds’ wouldn’t work if they did. Without spoilers, screw-ups are a major plot point in the novel, and if everyone just went “Oh well, because you are the protagonist, we’ll pretend this didn’t happen and adore you unconditionally and unconvincingly anyway”, it would be more than a little confusing.
                It’s hard to critique this one without sounding like I’m being picky, but I do have to say it was a smidge confusing at points. Maybe I’m a simpleton, but I struggle with Stephen-Moffat-style timelines, and in a graphic novel, whilst being easier in this sense than straight text , it doesn’t erase the confusion entirely. The ending was also a little neat for me, but that’s more a matter of personal preference than it is an actual criticism. I think I’ve said before, despite being a lover of happy endings, I always struggle with believing come characters deserve them. Katie however, did actually develop, a feat accomplished by O’Malley that should not be sniffed at, considering that some authors can’t manage that in a whole series, and so at least there is a strong undertone that she’d worked hard to achieve her neat ending.
                ‘Seconds’ has been long-awaited by fans of Bryan Lee O’Malley’s work (including myself!), and I’m happy to say they won’t be disappointed. Packed with the typical fourth-wall-breaking comedy and unsettlingly poignant tragedy that can be expected, O’Malley delivers this hilarious and yet moving novel with style. 

Beware And Prepare For The Great 'El Deafo'!

I have been a little slack in terms of reviewing graphic novels on this blog. True, I did manage one, however I really don’t think that is giving a nearly good enough image of my longstanding love for them. Although I am a superhero comic reader, my personal favourite style of graphic novel are human stories (doesn’t matter if their contemporary, historical, political, etc) and ‘El Deafo’ by Cece Bell certainly fitted that category for me.

               Based on a true story, this adorable novel centres on Cece and her life as a child growing up with hearing impairment, and how it affects her – in every respect. Oddly enough for me, what I liked best about this portrayal was the appearance conscious nature of Cece, as it made her seem so wonderfully human and relatable. She wasn’t desperately worthy or dysfunctional or pitiful, she was a child facing a lot of difficulties, and struggling the ubiquitous struggle: acceptance from others around her. Another strong element of this book is its comedy, often visual (yes pun intended), and how it makes light of things that, without the illustrations, would likely make readers uncomfortable, as they’d be viewing it from an adult lens, or at the least an objective one. However, because all we see is through Cece, and through her funny view of the world, the reader feels happy to laugh with her at others, rather than feel trapped in a bubble unable to help her.

               On the other hand, this doesn’t kill the poignancy of the book in any way, and Cece’s struggle seem just as honest and daunting to us as if we were living it ourselves. Cece's life could seen as not dramatic enough for some of even a little too easy in places (the boy she happens to fancy lives in her road and seems to be the only one that isn't bothered by the wires), but I think that's the media-installed stereotype expectations of polarised tragedy or success talking. Cece's life is real and appears so to us, in a way that only an unreliable narrator can convey. This reminds to make special mention to the author, Cece Bel,l that she has managed something that so many autobiographies fail to. Whilst all self depictions doubtlessly include the words "I know I wasn't perfect but", there is something about the illustrated format that demonstrates and explains this better than words can. The reader doesn't feel like they should be siding against the Cece in these moments; it is in fact the opposite. You feel a greater sense of empathy with Cece than you would if she was entirely flawed or entirely perfect. It is this very relatable nature that makes the book so addictive.

           I could go on for years regarding the art style for this novel. I could talk a long while about its important accepting attitude. However, I will settle for simply saying this - it did not make me cry and this is it's greatest strength. It is surprisingly easy to evoke tears in a reader, but for something a little deeper and more realistic and yet equally as resonant? That's something to be celebrated.

Guess Who's Becoming A Pinch 'Unhinged'

I will admit, the ending of 'Splintered'  (A.G. Howard and last weeks review) did not have me dying of desperation for a sequel, as it didn't really end on the classic cliffhanger you expect of a book with a sequel. However, I was intrigued to see the life Alyssa built for herself without Wonderland, and particularly with her family and I thought this book would most likely be quite like the first, with different adventures thrown in for variety. I was wrong. It's so, so much better than that. 

Sequels have a tendency in films to try and remake their original, and create a slightly paler version. Luckily, 'Unhinged' does not make the same mistakes. Standing as a slowly unravelling mystery, wrapped in a thriller, it does an excellent job of not attempting to remake the constant pace and action of the first. This story creeps inside your skin in a way that the first didn't quite manage for me (which, to be fair, is near damn impossible in firsts in series), and it shone for this. The tone and style have really moved with the story, and all the cracks of betrayal were so well placed I can honestly say I didn't see all of them coming. Alyssa grew a lot in this novel as well, and she's stopped having irritating moments, which became known collectively in my head as "You can't tell me what to do, you're not my Dad" moments. Wonderland was as well created as I mentioned in my previous review (I won't start again on that fangirling, I promise), and I love the growth of newer characters from 2D to humans, like her mum, the Ivory Queen, Chessie etc. But, more than anything, I liked the way the plot swerved in this book, and being a fan of the story may sound old fashioned, but it's what really sold 'Unhinged' to me.

I had two problems with this Wonderland novel, the first of which was that it lacked Wonderland for me. I know that it was intended to represent the differences between it and the real world, and the infiltration of the real world by netherling magic, but as the creation of Wonderland was so strong in 'Splintered', I missed it a little here (although the train and the iron bridge were very clever). I raise my hands in prayer that the final book will be set entirely in the other realm. My other issue actually began on Twitter with the hashtags #MothMinions and #JebJunkies. My largest problem with both the gentlemen is that firstly, despite both of them knowing Alyssa's potential and power, they still feel the need to patronise and protect her (Morpheus, I'll admit, less so, but it is still very much there). My other issue is that neither of them are all that nice, or even understanding, to her during the story, and seem to have a strange desire to possess her rather than love her. Maybe it's because I don't fall for Jeb's diamond-in-the-rough style or Morpheus' seductive charms, but I'm tagging #AlyssaAgency.

Having said this, I did really appreciate the way Alyssa's love life was treated in this novel, more than the first, where her journey and her work towards defeating the forces of evil worked alongside the romance, rather than it simply jumping front of the plot occasionally. 'Unhinged' builds on 'Splintered' in the best way, and Howard has really done an excellent job with this development. It's a gripping read, that really works on the mystery behind the story, and, more than anything, leaves me dying for Book Three. 2015 can't come quicker.

I Apologise If My Mind Is A Little 'Splintered'

Firstly, I begin this blog with a huge apology, as I failed to upload last week. I had a CRAZY busy week, with London Film and Comic-Con and Young Adult Literature Con, and I just didn’t get everything finished in time. However, in order to make up for this, I have a real treat for you all this week, as I got to jump down the rabbit hole, and, thanks to Abrams and Chronicle, was lucky enough to read ‘Splintered’ by A.G. Howard.
                To begin with, and I know this is little to do with the book itself, but the cover is beautiful, so much so that pretty much every one of my housemates have picked it up and began the first couple of pages (most of whom have now finished the whole book whilst I slept). It’s also very appropriate for a book that lures you in as ‘Splintered’ does. Set in modern day, Alyssa suffer from the fear of going mad as all the women in her family do, with fantastical notions of Wonderland, which, of course, all turn out to be all too real, as she discovers when she jumps down the rabbit hole. I am not a strong purist, and twists on classics are something I really enjoy, but even if you don’t, this book and Lewis Carroll’s are by no means mutually exclusive. The self-referential nature of this book means it cleverly builds on the original, rather than erases or alters it. I particularly enjoyed the physical re-imaginings of the Wonderland creatures, which, whilst being adorable as an eccentric hatter and white bunny, were fascinating as a man with no face and a skeletal creature with huge antlers respectively. Howard’s visual description is a true credit to her writing ability, and she brings Wonderland to life in a way that is capturing and still horrifying (Burton, take note!).
                But the romance plot in this novel waivered a little for me in places. Alyssa’s suitor Jeb occasionally went from very wooden to sudden fiery, and although Morpheus seemed unreal, he at least had an excuse. Saying that (spoiler alert!), Morpheus being forgiven by Alyssa at the end of the novel made absolutely no sense to me after all he’d done, regardless of his unreal nature. I also worried that Howard allowed the romance to over-run the story a little too much in places. The action was plentiful in the book, and, as I said, the creation of Wonderland so brilliant, that its time as a highlight in the plot dragged a little in places. I know that it was necessary, and it did act as a good cohesive for the chaos plot twist, however, I really think Alyssa’s character didn’t need the amount of support that the men seemed to keep trying to give her. Then again, as her independence and agency is what she’s trying to establish all along, something she even manages to achieve romantically in the end, I think I can forgive Howard’s break from action for Alyssa’s love life.
                I could go on forever about my love for the recreation of Wonderland in the novel, and the re-imagining of its inhabitants would take another eternity to follow that, however I think if I shorten it down a little, I would simply say that Howard has really achieved a detailed, intricate and charming fantasy world in this novel, which is by far something to be praised. Even better was getting a chance to say “Curiouser and curiouser” in real life, following the twisting plot of this delectable story.

Tune in next week, for a review of the sequel 'Unhinged'!

Am I A True 'Fangirl'?

                                         

Thanks to Ninja Book Swap, I got the chance to read Rainbow Rowell’s interesting new book ‘Fangirl’. I won’t lie, as a member of multiple fandoms, I was really excited by the prospect of it being treated in a near mainstream light in this book, jargon intact and all, but I have to be honest, Rainbow Rowell surprised me quite a bit with this one.
                There were a lot of elements to like about this book. The fandom that the main character Cath is a part of is clearly a copy, in a lot of ways, of Harry Potter, something I adore and have done for as long as I can really remember now, and the main ship that Cath chooses to sail with is that of Simon and Baz (aka Harry and Draco). This wrongfooted me a little, because when people preach this pairing, I can’t get my head around it, but that is my personal choice and a niggle critique I will admit. The comedy that arose from a lot of the “them and us” mentality (by which I mean Cath versus everyone who knew nothing about internet fandoms) was really well executed, and, however much I’d like to believe people are more open-minded, I felt for Cath at the points when she tried to explain how Baz and Simon could be in relationship, only to hear the response, “Pfft, Simon isn’t gay!” This book felt really well researched in its knowledge of fan-fiction and fan communities, and the sorority you feel for Cath and Wren when they hold the eighth Simon Snow in their hands is touching in a way that I didn’t expect. The romance, between Levi and Cath, felt equally well constructed, and with its stumbles and fix-ups feeling a lot less ridiculous-sweeping-romantic-gesture (for once in YA!), and it veering far nearer to a realistic-honest-and-even-occasionally-painful kind of affection.
                I had, however, a lot of problems with this book in certainly equal measure. Cath’s character was one where I couldn’t understand why any reader would like her unless they were exactly like her. She came across as dismissive and very judgemental, and, most of all, she was never punished for any bad decisions she made. For example, skipping class and missing an exam and not really even bothering to inform anyone was resolved by her easily retaking the exam and getting another two chances for her final assignment. This was particularly poignant as Wren seemed to be punished even more than average, as she seemed to only drink socially, something Cath was very judgemental and even, at points, cruel about, and she got alcohol poisoning and was grounded (in a sense) by their father. This imbalance seemed to support Cath’s “never anything new at all ever” viewpoint a little too much for me, making it seem as though Cath’s decision to be closeminded was the correct one and that Wren, who dared to try and establish an independent life from her sister, including seeing their mother for the first time, was wrong in every sense. I understand juxtaposition, but I really think that Cath’s character development (which was really only that she stopped writing fan-fiction for school projects and would talk to a person that wasn’t Wren or her boyfriend) was really tainted by the fact that she just never learnt anything and that the world simply changed around her, rather than the reverse.

                Overall, I have mixed feelings on this book. Whilst I love its link to fandoms, and I think it is a really clever way to show someone coming out of their shell, I am disappointed that there was little growth in a character who really needed to grow up, if only a little. Maybe I will have to begin some fan-fiction of my own to add a few tweaks (in my head) to what was otherwise a very funny and heart-warming book.