The Remedy of Books

I bought The Iron Trial last month at the Young Adult Literature Convention where, to my delight, I was able to get it signed by the lovely Cassandra Clare. I was person number 252 of what I think was about 450 people waiting for signings--it turns out she's incredibly popular, and for good reason. Though her published work began with the Mortal Instruments series Clare actually had a fan base built up long before that with her fanfiction writing. Most notably The Very Secret Diaries of the Fellowship of the Rings and the Draco Trilogy (book-length Harry Potter fanfic which she has asked no longer be shared online...though some people might still have copies saved somewhere offline...maybe).
Holly Black also has been writing prolifically and I've loved her writing since reading her first book, Tithe: A Modern Faerie Tale. Finding out these two ladies were going to collaborate on a series made me very happy. (Also, Black is from New Jersey, the best state, so yay.)

The Iron Trial is the first in what is to be a series of five books. The story follows Callum--a young boy with a limp and an affinity for magic--who is called to be tested in the Iron Trial. The Trial is a test for potential mages and whoever passes will enter the Magisterium (a magic school) for formal mage training. There's just one problem. Callum's father was a mage and is dead set against magic after losing Callum's mother in a mage war years earlier. Callum has been brought up to believe that magic is dangerous and mages are heartless, using the students at the Magisterium for their own selfish purposes. Despite trying his best to fail the trial, as his father advised, Callum finds himself apprenticed to a mage and whisked off to the Magisterium against his will. Once there Call finds himself torn between his father's teaching and his own experience with magic while also discovering that his father might be keeping a dark secret about Callum.

Yay for meeting Cassandra Clare!

This book was very fun to read. Both Clare and Black have great senses of humor and that really shone through in the writing. The characters were interesting and accessible, and continue to develop throughout the book. Call is a protagonist you can really root for--pretty normal, but still with some issues. Bullied about his limp, he's not terribly popular at school and causes trouble--mostly by accident. Unlike many fantasy protagonists, he actually has a good relationship with his dad at the beginning of the book. The plot moves quickly and was engaging enough to keep me turning the pages. This was one of those books I ended up finishing at around 1am because I didn't want to stop to go to bed.

Black and Clare have said that one of their goals in writing this series was to turn common fantasy tropes on their head, and The Iron Trial certainly did make me consider whether or not one should try to avoid tropes or jump in and change them.
A few chapters in, I couldn't help but notice how very Harry Potterish the plot was turning out to be. As a baby Call is the lone survivor of a magical massacre, is left permanently marked by the enemy (his injured leg), finds himself at a school of magic where everything is new and exciting, makes friends with a guy and a girl his age, and gradually finds out more about his own past as the story progresses.

These parallels weren't an accident. Black and Clare couldn't possibly have written this and *not* noticed they were more or less following the plot of Harry Potter. Writers often try to reclaim tropes that have come to be associated with one specific book--after all, J.K. Rowling wasn't the first to come up with the idea of an orphan discovering he was "the chosen one," so it's not fair to give negative marks to any future authors who use that trope. However, it is certainly true that if future authors are going to use it, they must find a way to make it different enough that it doesn't seem like they're copying. In The Iron Trial Clare and Black weren't trying to reclaim the Harry Potter plot so much as start out with a plot readers might expect, and then turn it around into something unexpected. They were reforming readers' expectations of the "chosen one" fantasy trope.

In my opinion, they have been only somewhat successful here. Since the plot followed Harry Potter for much of the book, the first two-thirds or so were fairly predictable. Although there were a couple twists at the end, the prologue had made one of them quite easy to foresee. I appreciate what Clare and Black are doing here, but even with the twists, there wasn't enough of a departure from Harry Potter for the plot to feel original. I realize this is the first of a five book series, so there is plenty of time to take this in a vastly different direction, but in this single first book the plot leans more toward a homage than a reclamation.

Luckily for Black and Clare, they really are fantastic writers, so even with a predictable plot there was plenty else that was unique and I didn't want to put the book down. In the end, tropes or no, The Iron Trial is great fun to read and I do look forward to the next Magisterium book.

The Gospel of Loki by Joanne M. Harris is a retelling of Norse mythology from the perspective of the trickster god, Loki. Now, I have to admit, my knowledge of Norse mythology is not very deep and is mostly limited to what I learned in American Gods and from the Thor movies. Because of that, many of the stories in this book, and some of the characters, were completely new to me. The book begins with an account of the creation of the worlds and the rise of gods and giants, as told by Loki, and then goes on to detail Loki's various exploits and his rollercoaster fame/infamy among the gods. Ending, of course, with the inevitability of Ragnarok.

I found myself a bit torn about liking or not liking this book. The book's "gospel" format allows it to do away with certain things necessary to most good books--most notably character development and a constant story thread. The lack of these were a bit of a downside because I found the book didn't quite capture my attention consistently. Since each tale was being told after the fact, the feeling of being involved in the action and wondering how each tale might end was missing. While I was reading it, I was interested, but the moment I put the book down I had no real pull to pick it back up again and continue reading. Harris tried to mitigate this by having Loki frequently hint at more to come or to mention that things weren't as good as they seemed, but I didn't find this motivating.

There was little development of any character besides Loki, and while that was likely intentional (he is the star of the book after all) it left me not caring much about any of the characters. Harris did do a good job of fleshing out Loki's character and really giving him a recognizable voice. I usually am drawn to mischievous characters anyway, so Loki's irreverent way of speaking and casual plotting were fun to read. At the same time, Loki's constant references to "yours truly" and "your humble narrator" as well as his pet phrase "so shoot me" really did begin to get on my nerves. I wonder if this wasn't Harris's intention all along as Loki isn't really meant to be completely likable. However, while his casual way of speaking added an irreverent humor to the book, the occasional anachronistic references ("as welcome as a turd in a hot tub") were distracting.

Most interesting to me was that the book contained a half formed idea that Loki initially was not so much a troublemaker but rather just clever and full of energy.. He initially used his wits to the gods' advantage, but slowly the gods refusal to accept him as one of their own drove him towards tricking the gods themselves and eventually becoming one of the driving forces of Ragnarok. I would really have liked to see a more developed plot there rather than sticking to occasional hints in that direction among the tales.

Even without knowing the tales, I got the feeling that this book didn't add a lot to them other than Loki's voice. However, for those unfamiliar with Norse mythology, The Gospel of Loki could be a fun way to learn some of the classic tales without needing to delve into the Prose Edda.

Penguin Platform booth

I love pirate books. So when I got this book from my husband for Valentine's Day I was quite excited to read it. I knew it wasn't *exactly* a pirate book, but was hoping it would have a bit of pirate-like adventure and a lot of Daniel Handler's fantastic sense of humor. Unfortunately, it really didn't have either.

I realize that books written as Daniel Handler are not meant to be for the same audience as when he writes as Lemony Snicket, however, even taking that into consideration I really disliked this book and every character in it.

We Are Pirates is really two parallel stories. One is about Gwen, a teenager who wants to be in control of her own life; the other is about her father, a radio producer whose career has stagnated. Although the stories overlap, they don't really show any cohesive intertwining. One could easily cut out either story without the other changing at all. I think this disconnectedness doesn't help the book.

The plot of Gwen's story is that she decides, along with Errol, an old man who has Alzheimer's and a love of pirate stories, to run away from home, commandeer a ship and sail out into San Francisco Bay. To prove her dedication to her new pirate cause, she plans to attack other ships and take their supplies. She pulls a few other people into her plot and carries it out in a surprisingly bloody fashion, starting with the violent murder of two people.

Phil's story is basically circling around how much his career has stagnated, how he continues to screw up everything, and his very cringe-worthy relationship with his secretary--who he might want to sleep with.

There is a very strongly developed theme of powerlessness throughout the book. All the main characters (in fact, the secondary characters as well) are powerless in different ways--Gwen because she is a teenager and has no independence from her parents, Errol because he has lost his memory and cannot take care of himself, Phil because he doesn't understand why his career has gone downhill, and thus cannot fix it. Each character tries to take control of his or her situation in different  ways, but ultimately they screw things up even more. Of all the aspects of this book, this is the one I appreciate; it was well fleshed out and each person's struggle felt very real.

However, there was still no redemption or hope. I think if Handler had taken a different direction and actually had given the characters some success, or at least a moment of realization that there might be a different way to take control, it would have had some redeeming value. Stories do not have to have happy endings, but they should at least have some redeeming value to them. We Are Pirates was depressing throughout and ended on an even lower note. Gwen and her accomplices get away with murder, theft, and destruction (for which the most vulnerable of their group is blamed) and then life goes back to its mediocre hopelessness.

Beyond plot, I also have complaints about the writing itself. The narrator throughout the book is extremely unclear. There is some severe head hopping that is very disorienting to the reader. Sometimes this can be used as a technique to jar the reader into paying closer attention or to involve the reader in the chaos of a scene, but in this case it was merely annoying and made the story more difficult to follow. Another tactic that felt very gimmicky was that many times throughout the book the narrator refers to the story as if it were in the distant past, using phrases such as,"during this era of American history," and "at the time this story takes place." Yet, at the beginning of the book it seems the story is being told only a few weeks after the events happened.

While We Are Pirates wouldn't put me off reading Handler books in the future, I absolutely wouldn't recommend spending time reading this one unless you like selfish characters whose lives are on a downward spiral.

Yesterday, one of the world's greatest authors left this realm. His wit was only matched by his ability to delve deeply into the human soul and examine, laud, or poke fun at what he found there.
Rest in peace you wonderful man.

What better time, then, to bring out a few of my absolute favorite quotes?


Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.
 - A Hat Full of Sky

Mister Teatime had a truly brilliant mind, but it was brilliant like a fractured mirror, all marvelous facets and rainbows but, ultimately, also something that was broken.
- Hogfather

In Ghat they believe in vampire watermelons, although folklore is silent about what they believe about vampire watermelons. Possibly they suck back.

Near Enemy is the second book in the Spademan series by Adam Sternbergh and was published earlier this year. I reviewed his first book, Shovel Ready, last year and enjoyed it despite it not being my usual genre. So, when I saw the second one available on Blogging for Books, I was happy to request it.

This plot follows close on the heels of the first book. A year has passed, but not much has happened and little explanation is needed to catch the reader up to the present. Spademan once again is the storyteller, relaying the plot in his minimalist narrative style.
The setting is still post-dirty-bomb New York City which is falling into ever deeper corruption and chaos. Wealthy residents lie shuttered away in high-rises and spend their days plugged in to an artificial reality called the Limnosphere while other try to earn enough to buy a few hours here and there to escape the harsh reality.

During a job where Spademan is hired to kill a lowlife "bed-hopper" named Lesser (who also happens to be a genius programmer), Spademan learns that Lesser might have discovered a valuable, and deadly, secret about the Limn. He decides not to kill him until he learns more, but soon Lesser disappears. Spademan is coerced into tracking him down by a member of the police who seems to have his own agenda and doesn't balk at using threats and force to get his way.
The story follows Spademan's search for Lesser and the gradual revelations that follow about the limn, the city's leadership, and even the group behind the bombing of the city.

Sternbergh has done a fabulous job crafting Spademan's character--his dry humor and pseudo-poetic observations of the crumbling world around him lend a definite depth to his anti-hero character.

The world, though again, not perfectly fleshed out (does anyone really believe the NYC would be given up for dead by the rest of the world?), was still very vivid and easy to visualize. I imagine the world looking very much like the one in the Fallout PC games (which I wish someone would make into a movie)--drab, run down, with occasional patches of normality the further you get from the cities.

Near Enemy was more expertly written than Shovel Ready in subtle but noticeable ways. The pacing of the plot was very well done--particularly the transitions between action scenes. The symbolism, though not subtle (to match the book's unsubtle narrator), was still clever.

I do wish there was a more satisfying ending to this book. While some parts of the plot are resolved in the end, much more is hinted at. Of course, it's part of a series, but in my opinion Sternbergh did a better job in Shovel Ready of bringing the book's main plot to an end while still leaving it clear that there is more to come.

All in all I really enjoyed reading this book and look forward to the next.

For more info and to buy the book, visit the Random House website.

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review.

Blackbeard (Edward Teach) Let's face it, this isn't his scariest pose.