Audiobook Review: The Mysterious Howling

The Mysterious Howling
The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place, Book 1

Author: Maryrose Wood
Narrator: Katherine Kellgren
Duration: 5 hrs, 28 mins
Publisher: Harper Audio
Read: July 9-11, 2013
Source: Audiobooksync

Description from Goodreads:
Found running wild in the forest of Ashton Place, the Incorrigibles are no ordinary children: Alexander, age ten or thereabouts, keeps his siblings in line with gentle nips; Cassiopeia, perhaps four or five, has a bark that is (usually) worse than her bite; and Beowulf, age somewhere-in-the-middle, is alarmingly adept at chasing squirrels.

Luckily, Miss Penelope Lumley is no ordinary governess. Only fifteen years old and a recent graduate of the Swanburne Academy for Poor Bright Females, Penelope embraces the challenge of her new position. Though she is eager to instruct the children in Latin verbs and the proper use of globes, first she must help them overcome their canine tendencies.

But mysteries abound at Ashton Place: Who are these three wild creatures, and how did they come to live in the vast forests of the estate? Why does Old Timothy, the coachman, lurk around every corner? Will Penelope be able to teach the Incorrigibles table manners and socially useful phrases in time for Lady Constance's holiday ball? And what on earth is a schottische?

Review:

Listening to The Mysterious Howling has further gotten me thinking on the subject of what makes a book marketable for a particular age group. The Mysterious Howling has a pretty sophisticated writing style and the heroine and villain (of sorts) are both teenagers. Yet it's marketed as a middle grade. With this, I give up. Books are books and we should read them if we want to, no matter who they're supposedly for. Who's with me?

Why Did I Read This Book?
Two reasons. First, April of Good Books and Good Wine talks to me about audiobooks pretty often, and Katherine Kellgren is her favorite narrator, so, of course, I wanted to listen to a Kellgren book. However, most of them have been books that I already own in print or that just aren't my thing. Then this one showed up on Audiobooksync and I was like BOOYAH. Plus, I don't have any more review audios, and it was there all ready to go.

What's the Story Here?
Fifteen-year-old Penelope Lumley has graduated from the Swanburne Academy for Poor Bright Females with a wonderful education and is ready to make her way in the world. She obtains her first position, caring for three children, who turn out to have been raised by wolves. Thankfully, Penelope has enough affection for and understanding of the ways of non-human animals, as well as enough whimsy, to be able to handle these strange, howling children. Basically, it's like Mary Poppins if Mary were just barely a teenager and assigned to Mowgli.

How are the Characters?
The characters of The Mysterious Howling are interesting, but they're a bit more like a tableaux of people than a full play. Most of them are pretty one note, particularly Lady Constance, who is a spoiled brat and seems younger than Penelope, though she's not. Little consideration is given to motivations or anything like that, which really fleshes out character's personalities. Still, Penelope was entertaining, especially since she has no clue how odd she really is. The children are perhaps most interesting, but they're really not the focus of this first book and more of a plot point.

Am I Going to Continue with the Series?
Certainly. Though it wasn't a hundred percent love for me, it did keep me entertained, and I do love me some short audiobooks. I'm hoping that the plot of the next one gets a bit more substantial, since not much really happened in here. I'm presuming that the reader will learn more about where the children came from as they get skilled enough in language to explain what they can remember, which could be quite interesting.

How was the Narration?
Kathereine Kellgren does a really good job, as April promised. She has a sort of high class British accent (to my ears anyway, though I admit to not being an expert with British accents, though I would totally take that class), but is also completely willing to do, and perhaps delights in doing, all the voices and sound effects. I mean, the fact that she can deliver the children's lines (most of which involve howling or barking) without laughing (yes, it's edited and all but still) is impressive. She really goes for it. NGL, the howling and stuff was pretty annoying sounding, but it was also just right for the story, so I had a love/hate relationship with that.

Sum It Up with a GIF:

Rating: 3/5

Graphic Novel Review: Saints

Saints
Boxers & Saints, Book 2

Author: Gene Luen Yang
Pages: 176
Publisher: First Second
Publication Date: September 10, 2013
Read: September 4-5, 2013
Source: Finished copy from publisher

Description from Goodreads:
China, 1898. An unwanted fourth daughter, Four-Girl isn't even given a proper name by her family. She finds friendship—and a name, Vibiana—in the most unlikely of places: Christianity. But China is a dangerous place for Christians. The Boxer Rebellion is murdering Westerners and Chinese Christians alike. Torn between her nation and her Christian friends, Vibiana will have to decide where her true loyalties lie . . . and whether she is willing to die for her faith.

Boxers & Saints is a groundbreaking graphic novel in two volumes. This innovative format presents two parallel tales about young people caught up on opposite sides of a violent rift. Saints tells Vibiana's story, and the companion volume, Boxers, tells the story of Little Bao, a young man who joins the Boxer Rebellion. American Born Chinese author Gene Luen Yang brings his trademark magical realism to the complexities of the Boxer Rebellion, and lays bare the universal foundations of extremism, rebellion, and faith.

Previous Book in Series:
1: Boxers

First Sentence: "I am my mother's fourth daughter, born on the fourth day of the fourth month and the only one of her children to survive past a year."

Review:

Saints is a companion graphic novel to Boxers, which takes on the opposite perspective: that of a secondary devil. This terminology may not be familiar to you, so allow me to explain. A secondary devil is a Chinese person who has converted to Christianity, thus aligning themselves with the foreign devils. Saints covers the same time period, but has only one moment with the same scene happening, though it does offer further insight into the events of Boxers just the same. Though they're companions, I do think reading them in this order does work slightly better.

In Boxers & Saints, what Yang really digs into are people's motivations. How does an unassuming Chinese boy grow up to kill his countrymen as a Boxer? Why would a young girl convert to Christianity, rather than sticking to the gods of her country? Yang doesn't set out to teach the reader exactly what happened; there aren't any specific dates or anything like that. Instead, he shows the feelings and the ways of thinking that led to the bloody battles and the hatred. Boxers & Saints are nuanced, subtle and thought-provoking.

The main character of Saints made a brief appearance in Boxers, as the girl young Little Bao wanted to marry when he grew up because her face resembled an opera mask. Four-girl, so called because she was the fourth child to the family and believed to be a devil and to represent death, has no true name and is not beloved of her family. She tries to get them to accept her, but all they see is how she falls short. As a child might, she begins to act out for attention, by making a devil face. Her mother, sick of the comments from others about Four-girl's devil face, takes her to a Doctor, who happens to be a Christian, and he convinces her to stop with the devil face.

When Four-girl learns about the foreign devils, she is thrilled and eager to learn about their religion. Though she doesn't necessarily find the Bible compelling, what she gets from Christianity is the acceptance she's always craved. On top of that, they finally give her a name: Vibiana. Though Vibiana does not entirely understand Christianity or what the stakes are, her new religion is so important to her, because these people, these foreign devils, accepted her where her own family would not. That's why she would put her life on the line rather than renounce her faith.

As I mentioned in my Boxers review, the Boxers would put on the guise of Chinese gods, but, in Saints, you can see that there are actual humans fighting the battles. With this technique, Yang makes it clear that the guises of the gods are metaphorical, the boys so convinced of their victory because they have their gods' approval and support.

Similarly, Vibiana has visitations from Joan of Arc and even Jesus. The one from Jesus is fascinating, as he has the same eye marked on his hands that the old man who gave Bao the method to take on the guise of the gods had. I'm not entirely sure what point Yang is making with this, perhaps that all religion comes from the same source? The reason I bring this up at all when I'm not sure myself is to show how complex Boxers & Saints are and how well they will fuel discussions. I could see them being an excellent classroom resource, a fun, easy read that looks at the Boxer Rebellion, war and religion in an entirely different way than a textbook.

I did personally like Saints slightly less than Boxers. This may be because there's a good deal more text in this one, and it does lean a bit towards YOU ARE LEARNING NOW, as Vibiana is instructed in the ways of Christianity.

Boxers & Saints are best read together back to back, so the reader can fully flesh out the commonalities between the two and look at the many nuances. They're fairly light on text and heavy on character motivations.

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote:

"Joan: 'Shhh! My king receives his crown!'
 Vibiana: 'Ah. So the ugly man gets a fancy new hat.'"

Graphic Novel Review: Boxers

Boxers
Boxers & Saints, Book 1

Author: Gene Luen Yang
Pages: 336
Publisher: First Second
Publication Date: September 10, 2013
Read: September 4, 2013
Source: Finished copy from publisher

Description from Goodreads:
China,1898. Bands of foreign missionaries and soldiers roam the countryside, bullying and robbing Chinese peasants.

Little Bao has had enough. Harnessing the powers of ancient Chinese gods, he recruits an army of Boxers - commoners trained in kung fu who fight to free China from "foreign devils."

Against all odds, this grass-roots rebellion is violently successful. But nothing is simple. Little Bao is fighting for the glory of China, but at what cost? So many are dying, including thousands of "secondary devils" - Chinese citizens who have converted to Christianity.

First Sentence: "Spring is my favorite time of year."

Review:

Back in grad school, I had my first experience with Gene Luen Yang's work when we read his most famous graphic novel thus far, American Born Chinese. Though disparate in subject matter, Boxers does have something in common with his prior work, the magical realism that Yang brings to bear even on historical or contemporary subjects. In Boxers, Gene Luen Yang manages to pack quite a punch with his spare prose and straight forward drawings.

Though I learned about the Boxer Rebellion in college, I'll admit that my memories thereof are limited at best. Based on extensive research (okay, I checked Wikipedia), Yang actually fits in the main historical points without being at all tedious or lecturing. Basically, Yang has perfected the ability to teach without seeming like he's teaching, which is ideal for the intended audience. He conveys the difficult times that led to the rebellion, the drought and the negative impact foreigners were having in China, through the lens of the life of one young boy who grows up to head the rebellion.

Little Bao did not start out as a remarkable boy. He lived in the shadow of his older brothers and had his head in the clouds, fancifully imagining himself the character in an opera. With Little Bao's optimism, to some degree never shed throughout his journey, Yang captures the wholehearted believe the Boxers had that they would be victorious. In no way did they imagine that their gods would let them lose or that foreigners could truly take over China.

Remember how I mentioned the fantasy angle? Well, in Boxers, the beliefs in local gods, the beliefs being challenged by the conversion to Christianity coming with the influx of foreigners, are manifested physically. Yang literally pits the old gods versus the imperialist forces. Through a mystical process, Little Bao and his friends are able to transform themselves into gods of China, and fight with a strength much bigger than their own bodies and kung fu training give them. It's a bit strange, but I think Yang makes it work, and this technique adds a lot of color and vibrancy to the otherwise fairly spare Boxers, highlighting the colorful culture that is being suppressed.

However, Boxers does not preach. Yang, unsurprisingly given the dual nature of this release - Boxers being paired with Saints from the other side of the conflict, presents a balanced view. He makes it quite clear that horrible acts are perpetrated by both sides. If anything, Yang shows how horrible war is. Little Bao, once so innocent and fanciful, does brutal things, as so all of the Boxers. Bao must choose between love and war, and each time he chooses war and China. Boxers is surprisingly dark, intense and bloody, but done in a style that I do not think will overwhelm most readers.

Gene Luen Yang's Boxers confronts subject matter not covered enough in western culture with an even, honest hand. He adds in fantasy to the history, making for a more metaphorical and more visually exciting read. The focus on visual over narrative storytelling will make this a great read for both more reluctant readers and those at a higher reading level.

Rating: 4/5

Favorite Quote: "'For China?! What is China but a people and their stories?'"

Review: Rose Under Fire

Rose Under Fire
Code Name Verity, Book 2

Author: Elizabeth Wein
Pages: 368
Publisher: Disney Hyperion
Read: September 1-2, 2013
Source: ARC from publisher

Description from Goodreads:
While flying an Allied fighter plane from Paris to England, American ATA pilot and amateur poet, Rose Justice, is captured by the Nazis and sent to Ravensbrück, the notorious women's concentration camp. Trapped in horrific circumstances, Rose finds hope in the impossible through the loyalty, bravery and friendship of her fellow prisoners. But will that be enough to endure the fate that’s in store for her?

Elizabeth Wein, author of the critically-acclaimed and best-selling Code Name Verity, delivers another stunning WWII thriller. The unforgettable story of Rose Justice is forged from heart-wrenching courage, resolve, and the slim, bright chance of survival.

Previous Book in Series:
1: Code Name Verity

First Sentence: "I just got back from Celia Forester's funeral."

Review:

Code Name Verity is one of those rare books that awed both critics and actual readers. Initially, I almost DNFed Code Name Verity, but I ended up being seriously impressed with both Wein's writing and her gumption. At the same time, though, Code Name Verity never really got me right in the feels, the way it did so many other people. Thus, though I suspect it may not be a popular opinion, I love Rose Under Fire more than Code Name Verity. Once again, Wein's story is incredibly dark and daring, and with a powerful narrative voice.

As Rose Under Fire began, I really wasn't sure how I felt about Rose Justice. She's very different from Julie and Maddie, the heroines of Code Name Verity. Rose lacks their seriousness and their cleverness; she's not stupid, but she's a good deal more innocent and has seen less of life's dangers. Thus far, she's been sheltered and pampered, and, like many Americans setting off for the front, she sees the war as something romantic and anticipates performing heroic actions. She desperately hopes to be allowed to fly to France, stifling under the few jobs that American female civilian pilots are allowed to perform in the war effort.

Rose's narration fits her perfectly. Her sentences are long and push forward with excitement, as though venturing out in search of something exciting and wonderful. There's a perkiness to her in the beginning, a freshness, as well as a flair for the poetic, coming through in metaphors and unique word choices. As Rose's story darkens, the brightness and naivete seeps out of her narration, leaving her the same Rose, but weighted down by all that she has experienced.

Wein looks at World War II through a female lens, which is part of what makes these two books disparate from the mass of WWII fiction out there. The youth of the characters also distinguishes this series from the rest, particularly given the unflinching treatment Wein gives the dark subject matter. Wein does not shy away from the atrocities committed, and in Rose Under Fire she focuses on the concentration camps, particularly Ravensbrück.

Last year, I read a nonfiction novel about a train full of women sent to Auschwitz called A Train in Winter. As I read Rose's account of her time in Ravensbrück, I could not help compare this fictional experience with what I learned in A Train in Winter. That book puts forward the theory that the women were better able to survive in Auschwitz because of the way they all supported one another throughout the whole experience, putting the survival of the group over that of individuals, and creating a real family with their fellow prisoners. This same sort of spirit appears in Rose Under Fire, as Rose bonds with her bunk mates, the Rabbits. So many women survive Ravensbrück that might not have because of the way they all worked together and helped buoy one another's spirits. Those that did not survive will be remembered, their names memorized for posterity, and justice searched out in their honor.

The most heartrending aspect of Rose Under Fire is the accounting of the Rabbits, the women who make themselves into a protective family for Rose. These "rabbits" were medical test subjects. They were shot with bullets, given gangrene, amputated, and had bones removed from their legs so doctors could test cures for soldiers on the front. What these women went through is unbelievably horrific, but they are still such powerfully strong characters, such fighters, so desperate to live or at least get their story out. While the characters are fictional, real women went through these sorts of experiments and these tears that are slipping out of my eyes as I type (yes, this book did manage to make me cry) are for them. Wein's Afterword, in which she explains why she wrote this book, really drives the whole point of the book home.

Much as I loved this book, I was not a fan of Rose's poetry. Though I did quite enjoy Edna St. Vincent Millay's excerpts and the reference to Emily Dickinson in one of Rose's poems, I did not get Rose's. Most of them felt like prose chopped up into shorter lines to me. However, I will be the first to admit that I do not really get poetry. My heart and mind like prose. As such, I found myself generally skimming through her poems, since even reading them aloud didn't make them work for me, a technique that often helps me find the rhythm in the poetry and comprehend its beauty.

Rarely do books evoke so much of an emotional response from me, so suffice it to say that Rose Under Fire has every bit of the powerful emotional punch of Code Name Verity. I wouldn't really say that one or the other is a better book, but likely one will resonate more with each reader. I highly encourage readers to try these beautiful, emotional, historically resonant novels. Also, please note that while these are fabulous books for teen readers, they have wonderful crossover potential, and are good books to give out to skeptical adults who do not believe teen fiction can be literary.

Rating: 4.5/5

Favorite Quote: "Writing to you like this makes me feel that you are still alive. It's an illusion I've noticed before—words on a page are like oxygen to a petrol engine, firing up ghosts. It only lasts while the words are in your head. After you put down the paper or the pen, the pistons fall lifeless again."

Sadie Hawkins Sunday Review #30: The Grass Dancer

The Grass Dancer

Author: Susan Power
Pages: 300
Publisher: Putnam Adult
Read: August 11-13, 2013
Source: Library
Recommended by: Ann Kristin

Description from Goodreads:
Set on a Sioux reservation in North Dakota, this novel recounts a story about the connections among generations and how the actions of our ancestors affect contemporary life. The author weaves a myriad of folk motifs into the fabric of present-day reality.

First Sentence: "When Harley saw his father, Calvin Wind Soldier, and his brother, Duane, in his dreams, they were wearing crowns of glass."

Review:
Right from the beginning, I knew that Susan Power's The Grass Dancer was a book I never would have picked up on my own. Though I'm generally up for reading about any culture, I've been burned by a couple about Native Americans, so I'm hesitant to read them. Still, that's not something I'm proud of and is certainly no reason to write off all of those books, so, when this showed up in Sadie Hawkins, I figured I'd give it a try. While I didn't precisely dislike The Grass Dancer, I didn't really like it either, and I definitely did not understand it.

The Grass Dancer is a strange novel from a narrative perspective. Power uses multiple perspectives, varying from chapter to long chapter. Some of the perspectives are in third person and others in first. Since I read the book in chunks by chapter (seriously, they're long), I can't say for sure how unique the voices are in the first person chapters, but it pretty much all read like the same narrator to me. As such, I found the shifts in narration confusing.

Shifting from third to first person isn't all that weird though. Plenty of books do that. What not as many books do is jump around in time while switching perspectives. The book opens (with no year ascribed, then goes to 1981. From there, the narrative keeps jumping backwards years at a time, all the way to 1935, at which point it finally hops back to the early 1980s. WHUT.

Each chapter is a somewhat self-contained narrative and, taken individually, some of them were quite interesting and would have made decent books if built out more. Both the 1981 story, involving Pumpkin, one of the only female grass dancers and one of the best regardless of gender, and the 1964 story about Crystal Thunder, which is about her falling in love with a white man. Race and culture and identity and romance are the main themes, and I'm totally all for that. Some of the other narratives, the one of Red Dress most especially, bored me.

Taken as a whole, though, I have no freaking clue what to make of this book. Why did it go backward? Why make it so difficult for me to piece together how everyone's related? To follow this, I would have had to build out a family tree and keep track of names. As it is, I think I got the broad strokes, but missed the more subtle impacts the earlier timelines had on the later. Having finished, I really have no clue what I was meant to get out of this novel. What I consider the main plot, the frame story, seems, to me, unresolved and unsatisfying. Basically, I just don't get it.

So there you go. I don't think this was a book for me, and I don't think I did it justice because I am baffled.

Ann Kristin, if you have insights, I'd be happy to hear them. Either way, thanks for taking part in Sadie Hawkins Sunday!

Rating: 2/5

Favorite Quote:

"'You can't help who you love, Unci,' she had protested.
     'Yes you can. You love yourself, you love your family, and you don't let your feelings run around and jump into someone else's hand.' Mercury made a fist. 'You grab on to your own life and push it around where you want it to go.'"

---

Up Next:

The next Sadie Hawkins Sunday book will be Kinslayer by Jay Kristoff. Make sure to stop by for that if you want to see my heart served up on a platter.

Want to tell me what to read? Fill out the following form with a suggestion! For more details, check this post.

Review: The Chalice

The Chalice
Joanna Stafford, Book 2

Author: Nancy Bilyeau
Pages: 496
Publisher: Touchstone
Read: August 3-4, 2013
Source: Finished copy from publisher for TLC Book Tour

Description from Goodreads:
The Chalice is a historical thriller told from the point of view of a young woman caught in the crosswinds of time: She has pledged to become a Dominican nun in an England ruled by Henry VIII, who has ruthlessly smashed his country's allegiance to Rome. By 1538, the bloody power struggles between crown and cross threaten to tear the country apart. Joanna Stafford has seen what lies inside the king’s torture rooms and risks imprisonment again, when she is caught up in a shadowy international plot targeting the King. As the power plays turn vicious, Joanna understands she may have to assume her role in a prophecy foretold by three different seers, each more omniscient than the last. The life of Henry VIII as well as the future of Christendom are in her hands—hands that must someday hold the chalice that lays at the center of these deadly prophecies. As she struggles to forge a life for herself in a country that rejects her faith, she must also decide if her future should be shared with a man--and if so, which of the two men who love her should be chosen.

Previous Book in Series:
1: The Crown

First Sentence: "When preparing for martyrdom on the night of December 28, 1538, I did not think of those I love."

Review:

Having gone straight from The Crown into The Chalice, I'm remarkably impressed by how largely consistent the two books are in quality, and I had a very similar reaction to this installment, which is to say largely positive but lacking that spark that really makes it a me book. In The Chalice, the stakes for Joanna Stafford are raised as it becomes more about her and less about Catholicism in general. Readers who loved The Crown will likely find that they are similarly thrilled by The Chalice.

Perhaps what I enjoy most about this series is its unique perspective on a heavily documented, in both fiction and nonfiction, historical period. We are obsessed with the Tudors, most specifically with King Henry VIII's reign. The drama, the sex, the beheadings, and the betrayals make that period such ripe fodder for entertainment. As such, it's been done to death, except that clever authors can still manage to put a unique spin on well-trodden ground. Rather than focusing on the usual suspects and court life, Bilyeau looks at this turbulent period in English history from the perspective of a novice nun, and puts the shift to Protestantism into sharp, personal relief.

Though not of a religious persuasion myself, the way that Bilyeau confronts these issues is fascinating. The former nuns, friars and monks are lost in this new world, the priories and monasteries having been dissolved at the end of The Crown. Some of the former religious personages manage to establish fairly ordinary lives, marrying and finding professions. Many, though, live together on their pensions, trying to keep life as much as it was before as is possible. Others, desperate, wander the kingdom in search of God and a sign, beaten and battered by the judgmental and fearful. Their world has changed so rapidly, which is all the more upsetting for those who have been cloistered in places of routine and unchanging order.

I still really like Joanna Stafford, but she wasn't quite as level-headed in this one. She waffles back and forth between her two love interests and the possibility of being single. To distract herself from her indecision, she throws herself into absurdly idiotic schemes in the name of her faith without thinking them through. She gets arrested so many times and saved by her connections, thus embroiled into another huge scheme where she's manipulated by other forces, wresting control for herself at the last minute through her badassery. The way that all came out just felt rather contrived. In addition, I wasn't a huge fan of the mysticism angle, though it was an interesting interpretation of King Henry VIII's difficulties fathering children.

Like with The Crown, The Chalice was a bit of a slow start for me, though I did get quite absorbed at certain junctures. The slowness was not aided by the one formatting change Bilyeau made, adding a prologue and epilogue to this installment. I did not much care for these, as they, like most, are intended merely to drum up dramatic irony. The prologue hints that Joanna might die, and then jumps back two months to wind the story forward. I'm not a fan of this narrative device at the best of times, but thought it particularly weak here, since the moment therein isn't even the culmination of the main plot arc, but a minor, stupid plan. The epilogue just felt redundant and out of place, but is, likely, paving the way for book three.

All in all, I'm still quite impressed with this series and do plan to read the third book when it comes out. They're definitely good reads for those who appreciate historical fiction with less of a focus on romance and sex scandals.

Rating: 3/5

Favorite Quote:

"'King Henry plays his part in the great game.'
     'Game?' I said.
     'The wars waged by kings for land and glory.'"

Review: The Crown

The Crown
Joanna Stafford, Book 1

Author: Nancy Bilyeau
Pages: 448
Publisher: Touchstone
Read: July 29-August 3, 2013
Source: Paperback from publisher via TLC Book Tours

Description from Goodreads:
JOANNA STAFFORD, a Dominican nun, learns that her favorite cousin has been condemned by Henry VIII to be burned at the stake. Defying the rule of enclosure, Joanna leaves the priory to stand at her cousin’s side. Arrested for interfering with the king’s justice, Joanna, along with her father, is sent to the Tower of London. While Joanna is in the Tower, the ruthless Bishop of Winchester forces her to spy for him: to save her father’s life she must find an ancient relic—a crown so powerful, it may possess the ability to end the Reformation.

With Cromwell’s troops threatening to shutter her priory, bright and bold Joanna must decide who she can trust so that she may save herself, her family, and her sacred way of life. This provocative story melds heart-stopping suspense with historical detail and brings to life the poignant dramas of women and men at a fascinating and critical moment in England’s past.

First Sentence: "When a burning is announced, the taverns off Smithfield order extra barrels of ale, but when the person to be executed is a woman and one of noble birth, the ale comes by the cartload."

Review:

The good luck I've been having with historical fiction continues. I've seen The Crown praised everywhere, and there's a reason for that: it's really good. Though the novel got out to a bit of a slow start, by the end, I was really close to the main characters and captivated by the plot. Bilyeau writes beautifully, and made me interested in the sort of subject matter I wouldn't ordinarily care one whit about, which I take as a sign of her talent.

Though set almost entirely in Dartford Priory and told from the point of view of a nun, I didn't find the religious sentiments overwhelming. With historical fiction, I'm a bit more patient with the trappings of religion, just like I am less bothered by infidelity than usual. The author merely records, as much as possible, the historical facts, and generally isn't trying to preach one way or another. Certainly, there is no preaching in The Crown, even though Joanna believes strongly in her religion.

Sister Joanna may be a nun, but she's totally not the image I carry in my head of what nuns are like, an image which I know to be false but can't seem to shift anyway. Joanna is not elderly, stern, and quiet, nor is she like Maria of Sound of Music, though she does perhaps have more in common with Maria. In fact, Joanna is quite level-headed, stubborn, determined, daring, and has quite the temper. She also has a thirst for knowledge, loving to research and to read. These qualities made her easy for me to like, even if I'm not remotely religious and couldn't relate to her passion for Christ, which does exist, since she voluntarily gave her life to the Priory.

The Crown takes place during Henry VIII's reign, during his marriage to Jane Seymour and the period beyond her death. At this time, Henry VIII has begun closing down Catholic institutions, seizing the money for the crown and turning people to Protestantism. The nuns of Dartford Priory, like all the rest, is worried about the likely inevitable dissolution that faces them. Joanna Stafford, for she was of a noble family before she committed herself to Christ, becomes embroiled in a scheme to save the Catholic church.

At the opening of the novel, Joanna breaks her oath to Dartford so that she can go be with her beloved cousin Margaret as she is burned at the stake. Her father also turns out to be there, and they are both arrested along with an innocent bystander, because her father threw gunpowder into the conflagration to help speed Margaret's passing, thereby making it less painful. Taken to the Tower of London, Margaret is eventually offered freedom (and the ability to stop her father's torture) by Bishop Gardiner. In exchange, she must return to Dartford Priory, which he will force the prioress to accept, and locate for him Athelstan's crown, said to have powers, which he hopes to barter to the King in exchange for sparing the monasteries and priories.

The plot consists of the search for the crown, which involves a lot of research of legends. Though Joanna does not want to help the Bishop, who she mistrusts, she throws herself into the search, largely because she loves to know things. Added to the espionage, there's a murder mystery and some possible future romance for Joanna. Of course, she's a novice nun, but with the impending dissolution of such livings, she will have to choose what to make of herself once again, and she could likely end up either with Geoffrey, arrested with her at Margaret's death, or Brother Edmund, who will also no longer technically be a friar when the Priory is closed.

Immediately upon finishing The Crown, I'm starting The Chalice, and I'm quite excited to do so. I'm really curious to see what becomes of Joanna now that the Priory will have been closed.

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote:

"'She will deceive us,' he insisted. 'I know it in my soul. She is a creature of our enemies. And she already knows enough to betray all. Haven't we all been taught of the wicked frailty of woman? Their own Thomas Aquinas said the female is defective and misbegotten.'
     Brother Edmund moved toward me, protectively. But I stepped in front of him, to confront my accuser.
     'I am a sworn servant of God, equal in dedication to you,' I told Brother Timothy. 'I have seen wickedness and defect and frailty in men who practice all forms of religion, greater than the actions of any woman.'"

Review: The Mirrored World

The Mirrored World

Author: Debra Dean
Pages: 256
Publisher: Harper
Read: July 21
Source: Finished copy from publisher via TLC Books Tours

Description from Goodreads:
The bestselling author of The Madonnas of Leningrad returns with a breathtaking novel of love, madness, and devotion set against the extravagant royal court of eighteenth-century St. Petersburg.

Born to a Russian family of lower nobility, Xenia, an eccentric dreamer who cares little for social conventions, falls in love with Andrei, a charismatic soldier and singer in the Empress's Imperial choir. Though husband and wife adore each other, their happiness is overshadowed by the absurd demands of life at the royal court and by Xenia's growing obsession with having a child—a desperate need that is at last fulfilled with the birth of her daughter. But then a tragic vision comes true, and a shattered Xenia descends into grief, undergoing a profound transformation that alters the course of her life. Turning away from family and friends, she begins giving all her money and possessions to the poor. Then, one day, she mysteriously vanishes.

Years later, dressed in the tatters of her husband's military uniform and answering only to his name, Xenia is discovered tending the paupers of St. Petersburg's slums. Revered as a soothsayer and a blessed healer to the downtrodden, she is feared by the royal court and its new Empress, Catherine, who perceives her deeds as a rebuke to their lavish excesses. In this evocative and elegantly written tale, Dean reimagines the intriguing life of Xenia of St. Petersburg, a patron saint of her city and one of Russia's most mysterious and beloved holy figures. This is an exploration of the blessings of loyal friendship, the limits of reason, and the true costs of loving deeply.

First Sentence: "Yes, this was her house many years ago, when she was still Xenia."

Review:

I suspect this shall be one of those reviews that sounds like I didn't like the book, but I did for the most part, so make note of that. Debra Dean writes beautifully, and I never found my attention waning from The Mirrored World. However, the story really lacked any sort of emotional impact or connection, largely because of the over-brisk pacing and dull main character.

Let me start, however, with what kept The Mirrored World a positive read for me. For one thing, I am hugely into anything about Russia or the Soviet Union, thus my interest in Dean's novel. There's something about Russia I find so captivating, and I suspect that has to do with the wide divide between the serfs and the upper classes. The pomposity of the events and the exhibitionism of the tsars and tsarinas is astounding. Dean delves into the excesses of the reins of Elizabeth, Peter III, and Catherine the Great. Throughout are such historical goodies as a party where Elizabeth ordered everyone to crossdress or the way she married off people for her own entertainment. I was definitely in it for the historical pageantry, and that was enough to get me through.

Unfortunately, the pace moves so quickly through time that much of history is glossed over, like watching decades of Russian history pass by from a bullet train. The Mirrored World clocks in at just over 200 pages, and it could have been much longer. In those pages, Dean takes Dasha from a child to an old woman, which gives you a sense of how quickly the pace goes. Brevity may be the soul of wit, but this novel is not a humorous one and meaning was obscured in the rush to the finish.

Dasha, however, is the biggest obstacle. She has almost no personality, and is more an observer of the people around her than anything. Of course, the people around her are interesting, but I kept expecting their to be a purpose to her, for her to learn something or do something in the course of the narrative, but she only ever reflected the values of those around her, particularly Xenia, though for a while she reflects her eunuch husband, who was definitely my favorite character.

More than anything, The Mirrored World is a tale of Dasha mirroring Xenia's life. She follows the lively Xenia everywhere, going to live with Xenia and her husband after the marriage. When Xenia tells Dasha to wed Gaspari, Dasha does. As Xenia becomes a holy fool, Dasha turns more and more to charity, even with the prospect of bankrupting herself in the process, as Xenia did before her. Their dynamic baffled me, and is perhaps a bit alien to our culture.

While a prettily-written novel, The Mirrored World failed to captivate me, skimming on the surface of history, rather than really diving in to where the feelings and the meaning reside. I liked it, but couldn't help comparing it to another book I enjoyed more set in the exact same time period, The Winter Palace by Eva Stachniak. By no means will this experience with Debra Dean be my last, but I do hope for a bit more from The Madonnas of Leningrad.

Rating: 2.5/5

Favorite Quote: "Whatever we know as children, this is the world, eaten whole and without question."

Review: The Boy on the Bridge

The Boy on the Bridge

Author: Natalie Standiford
Pages: 256
Publisher: Scholastic Press
Publication Date: July 30, 2013
Read: July 22-23, 2013
Source: Won from Lindsay Ribar - thanks Lindsay!!!

Description from Goodreads:
A new breathtaking novel from Natalie Standiford about love and trust during the Cold War.

Laura Reid goes to Leningrad for a semester abroad as Cold War paranoia is peaking in 1982. She meets a young Russian artist named Alexei and soon, with Alexei as her guide, Laura immerses herself in the real Russia--a crazy world of wild parties, black-market books and music, and smuggled letters to dissidents. She must keep the relationship secret; associating with Americans is dangerous for Alexei, and if caught, Laura could be sent home and Alexei put under surveillance or worse. At the same time, she's been warned that Soviets often latch onto Americans in hopes of marrying them and thus escaping to the United States. But she knows Alexei loves her. Right?

As June approaches--when Laura must return to the United States--Alexei asks Laura to marry him. She's only nineteen and doesn't think she's ready to settle down. But what if Alexei is the love of her life? How can she leave him behind? If she has a chance to change his life, to rescue him from misery, shouldn't she take it?

First Sentence: "Laura and her roommate Karen tramped along the frozen mud road that led through the university, past a wall with OGNEOPASNO! printed on it in huge red letters."

Review:

The Boy in the Bridge is one of those instances where the cover does not prepare you for the story within its pages. Sure, The Boy on the Bridge centers around a romance, but it's not the fluffy, cute read the cover suggests. Actually, The Boy on the Bridge is a story of a college student studying abroad in the Soviet Union, and discovering the hardships of life their, both physical and interpersonal.

The setting of The Boy on the Bridge made this a win for me, above and beyond the storytelling or the characters. Russian and Soviet history are among my fascinations, and The Boy on the Bridge takes place in an era with which I am less familiar. It's 1981, and the Soviet Union will continue to limp along for another ten years, and there's an air of desolation to Leningrad, which Standiford captures perfectly. Mistrust hangs in the air. Stalin may be long dead, but fear of being turned into the KGB for anti-Party activities is still rampant. The disparity between the quality of life for the American exchange students and regular citizens is shocking and sad; Laura and her fellow foreign students can obtain products Russians cannot. Basically, everything about the setting was well done, and such a nice break from all the books set in the US.

In one of my favorite novels and film adaptations, A Room with a View by E.M. Forster, there's a line about how Lucy was "transfigured by Italy," where she traveled with her cousin Charlotte on the sort of extended holiday wealthy Brits indulged in during the early twentieth century. In such a way was Laura transfigured by Russia. Like Lucy, falling in love with someone she wasn't meant to was a big part of the transformation, but so too was seeing a different way of life and learning about the tenuousness of life.

The Boy on the Bridge deals with a slightly older heroine, nineteen and a college student, but she's no less naive in romance. Her boyfriend of sorts back in the US is a cheater and a creep, based on the evidence of the letter he sent her, so it's initially exciting to see her move on with the Russian boy who drives overeager gypsies away. However, Laura becomes too enraptured with Alyosha, skipping glass and risking getting kicked out of the program to spend time with him. Normally, such a romance might bother me, but Standiford keeps the overall message one of caution and self-awareness.

Though the romance feels doomed, whether or not it actually is, there's a sense too that she needed this experience, more than she needed the classes at the university. From an intellectual standpoint, interacting with Alyosha and his friends dramatically improves her Russian. From an experiential standpoint, because she takes that risk, she actually gets to experience the Soviet Union. If she followed the rules, she might hardly have met any Russians or have seen anything aside from the scheduled school visits. Whatever may come of her time studying abroad, she'll never forget it and she'll never be the same.

The writing itself left me wanting a bit. Standiford uses close third person, which usually I don't mind, but for some reason I kept wanting The Boy on the Bridge to be in first person. Aside from that, the writing is decent but didn't stand out for me. I also wouldn't have said no to more banter.

Natalie Standiford's The Boy on the Bridge is a very quick read, and a must read if you're as intrigued by Russia as I am. Standiford depicts a realistic relationship built during the timeframe of a study abroad program, against the backdrop of the early 1980s in the Soviet Union.

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote:

"'Laura, this isn't love. Love lets you go on a trip without following you. Love can live without you for a week, knowing you'll come back.'
     'No, it can't.' The afternoon shadows grew long and cold. In spite of the chill, a heat rose up inside her and flooded her face. 'That's how you know it's true love. When he can't live without you.'
     Karen shook her head. 'That's how you know it's obsession. Or something else.'"

Sadie Hawkins Sunday Review #23: All the Truth That's in Me

All the Truth That's in Me

Author: Julie Berry
Pages: 288
Publisher: Viking Juvenile
Read: July 11
Source: ARC from publisher for review
Recommended by: Scott Pilgrim of Scott Reads It

Description from Goodreads:
Four years ago, Judith and her best friend disappeared from their small town of Roswell Station. Two years ago, only Judith returned, permanently mutilated, reviled and ignored by those who were once her friends and family. Unable to speak, Judith lives like a ghost in her own home, silently pouring out her thoughts to the boy who’s owned her heart as long as she can remember—even if he doesn’t know it—her childhood friend, Lucas. But when Roswell Station is attacked, long-buried secrets come to light, and Judith is forced to choose: continue to live in silence, or recover her voice, even if it means changing her world, and the lives around her, forever. This startlingly original novel will shock and disturb you; it will fill you with Judith’s passion and longing; and its mysteries will keep you feverishly turning the pages until the very last.

First Sentence: "We came here by ship, you and I."

Review:
As I endeavor never to lie to you kind folks who stop by and read my thoughts, I have to say I was really having second thoughts about reading All the Truth That's in Me when it was put into Sadie Hawkins. I'd heard rumors of dialect, and, though I've enjoyed a couple of books written in dialect, it's still not really my thing. The style of it generally scared me off. However, All the Truth That's in Me ended up being a really rewarding and unique literary experience.

I really do feel like All the Truth That's in Me is an excellent novel, well-written and perfectly atmospheric. The dialect really isn't strong at all, kept to a minimum and conveyed more with phrasing and the occasional word, like "hisself" for example. The language is kept pretty simple, which generally annoys me, but works well here. Judith isn't well-educated, and she was reticent even before her tongue was cut out.

Oh, right. Yeah, her tongue was cut out, so she's mute. Did I forget to mention that? Judith is, I think, unique among YA heroines in that her tongue has been cut out. How intense is that? She was kidnapped and mutilated. This aspect is what I liked best about All the Truth That's in Me. It's dark, hard, and not sugar coated in the least, yet there's still a sense of hope.

See, Judith had pretty much given up on herself, and was beginning to believe what others said: that she's dumb. With the outbreak of battle, though, Judith throws herself into action to rescue the boy she's loved since childhood. To do so, she has to confront her captor, and sets in motion events that will force her to learn to speak up for herself or else. Like Speak and The Girl in the Park, All the Truth That's in Me centers on the importance of finding your voice.

The mystery of who kidnapped Judith and what happened to her there, as well as who murdered Lottie, who disappeared just before Judith did, is really well done. The first fifty pages or so of the novel are really confusing, told in snippets of past and present all jumbled up, but it really does come together, and, once I got used to it, the jumps didn't feel unnatural at all. The way Berry wove everything together really did impress me.

There is some romance, but it does not overwhelm the larger arc. At first, I really didn't like it, because Judith is quite the little stalker. By the end, though, Berry had me sold on it. For one thing, I'm a real sucker for heroines who aren't gorgeous or who have disabilities finding love just like the model beautiful ones do. What Judith went through was not her doing and does not make her unlovable, though perhaps her own sense of being unlovable might if she gives into it. Lucas, her crush and love interest, is a really sweet guy, and hurrah for more of these sorts of guys cropping up in young adult fiction these days.

Still, though I liked the writing for the most part, second person narratives really don't work for me. The whole of All the Truth That's in Me is written this way. The you in question is Lucas. Unless a story is written in a diary format, epistolary, or breaking the fourth wall, I just do not comprehend the point of second person. For me, I'm thrown out of the text every single time I come across the word you in the narration, because I know it's not me. Plus, it has the disconcerting effect of putting me in two roles at once: looking through Judith's eyes, but also cast as Lucas, which was a bit dizzying. Presumably there was a reason for this, but, whatever it was, this is not a style that is effective for the sort of reader I happen to be.

The other aspect that left me a bit disappointed were the historical elements. Not much was really made of the history, and it all felt overly vague to me. I kept trying to place the novel in time and location, but never really got close.

All told, All the Truth That's in Me is a powerful, highly original novel and I recommend it highly, particularly to readers with more patience for second person narration.

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote: "I don't believe in miracles, but if the need is great, a girl might make her own miracle."

---

Up Next:

The next Sadie Hawkins Sunday book will be Dune by Frank Herbert, suggested by Robbie! I'm about halfway through right now and don't think I'll love it, but it's something I've always wanted to read but haven't because it's such a chunkster. Thanks for the motivation, Robbie!

Want to tell me what to read? Fill out the following form with a suggestion! For more details, check this post.

Review: Born of Illusion

Born of Illusion
Born of Illusion, Book 1

Author: Teri Brown
Pages: 384
Publisher: Balzer & Bray
Read: June 9, 2013
Source: YA Books Central for review

Description from Goodreads:
Anna Van Housen is thirteen the first time she breaks her mother out of jail. By sixteen she’s street smart and savvy, assisting her mother, the renowned medium Marguerite Van Housen, in her stage show and séances, and easily navigating the underground world of magicians, mediums and mentalists in 1920’s New York City. Handcuffs and sleight of hand illusions have never been much of a challenge for Anna. The real trick is keeping her true gifts secret from her opportunistic mother, who will stop at nothing to gain her ambition of becoming the most famous medium who ever lived. But when a strange, serious young man moves into the flat downstairs, introducing her to a secret society that studies people with gifts like hers, he threatens to reveal the secrets Anna has fought so hard to keep, forcing her to face the truth about her past. Could the stories her mother has told her really be true? Could she really be the illegitimate daughter of the greatest magician of all?

First Sentence: "The hair on the back of my neck prickles even before I spot him rounding the corner ahead."

Review:

One of the recent trends seems to be historical fiction set in the 1920s. Born of Illusion is the third one I've read in the last year with a focus on the occult during the prohibition era. The fact that Born of Illusion follows on the heels of The Diviners and In the Shadow of Blackbirds does not really diminish it for me, and, likely, it was already in the editing process before the first of those was released. It's a funny coincidence, though. Well, three books in and I am definitely a fan of this possible new trend, though I wouldn't mind seeing something set in the 1920s a bit more about prohibition or gangsters or crossdressing musicians, rather than seances and spiritualism.

Anna Van Housen joins the ranks of YA heroines with mother issues and missing fathers, also known as roughly a third of YA heroines. Her mother is a well-known medium, though Anna knows that's all just illusion. Anna's the one who creates much of the illusion in fact, and is a talented musician herself. Her mother claims that Anna's father is the illustrious Harry Houdini, but Anna's not sure, and really does not like having her talent explained away by inheritance, because she has worked hard. I love the way Anna refuses to fall into gender norms or allow anyone to diminish her based on her gender.

On top of her magician skills, Anna has a host of other abilities about which her mother knows nothing, because Anna doesn't trust her mother enough to tell her. When she touches people, Anna can sense their emotions. She also experiences visions of the future, usually of catastrophic events like the sinking of the Titanic, but now of her mom afraid and herself drowning. Her powers have been getting stronger and she doesn't know why. Both the spiritualism and magic tricks were well-handled and described.

Anna's relationship with her mother plays a crucial role, as do her relationships with others. Since Anna and her mom have moved a lot, she's rarely had any friends, and Anna generally avoids contact so as not to read people's feelings. Now that they've moved to New York City, they're trying to build a home for themselves for once. At first, Anna's mother seems irredeemable, but I love that her character rounds out as the book progresses.

So, too, do the rest of the supporting cast members. Everyone initially is quite one note, but they become more robust as Anna opens herself up to the idea of being close to people. Her sketchy manager turns out to be surprisingly dependable. The crotchety old man downstairs becomes someone who always cares and helps out. The vapid blonde with an interest in seances and the much older, bored husband ends up a dear friend. Watching Anna overcome her first impressions of people is delightful, and such a great message; in my own life, I've often found that people are not what they seem at first glance.

Then, of course, there is romance. Anna has two options on her romantic horizons: party boy and wannabe Magician Owen or controlled, polite British Cole. What's great about this love triangle of sorts is that it's very low key. Anna basically has two very different sorts of crushes on two very different boys, and is trying to figure out which one she actually likes. She doesn't make lifelong plans or commitments, and thinks in terms of the present moment, which is great.

The weak point of the novel was definitely the mystery element. Anna's trying to figure out who means her harm, and the culprit is obvious. Or, at least, was to me. The evil dude is also rather generically evil, too, lacking in motivation, though perhaps this will be developed in later books. On top of that, the ending felt quite rushed, with the climactic scene cut off in the middle, the rest of the happenings explained to Anna after the fact. While this did make sense in context, it was still confusing and anticlimactic for the reader.

Though I initially thought Born of Illusion was a standalone, I'm okay with there being more books about Anna and will be eagerly awaiting Born of Deception. With a vibrant heroine, a cute romance, daring escapes and ghostly visitations, Born of Illusion is a fun and exciting read.

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote:

"'Are you ready for a good time, doll?'
     I smile. 'Only if you stop calling me doll. I am not, nor have I ever been, a doll.'"

Review: The Virgin Cure

The Virgin Cure

Author: Ami McKay [Website|Facebook|Twitter|Pinterest]
Pages: 336
Publisher: Harper
Read: July 4-5, 2013
Source: Publisher for review via TLC Book Tours

Description from Goodreads:
From the author of the number one Canadian bestseller The Birth House comes the story of a young girl abandoned to the streets of post-Civil War New York City.

"I am Moth, a girl from the lowest part of Chrystie Street, born to a slum-house mystic and the man who broke her heart."

Set on the streets of Lower Manhattan in 1871, The Virgin Cure is the story of Moth, a girl abandoned by her father and raised by a mother telling fortunes to the city's desperate women. One summer night, twelve-year-old Moth is pulled from her bed and sold as a servant to a finely dressed woman. It is this betrayal suffered at the hands of her own mother that changes her life forever.

Knowing that her mother is so close while she is locked away in servitude, Moth bides her time until she can escape, only to find her old home deserted and her mother gone without a trace. Moth must struggle to survive alone in the murky world of the Bowery, a wild and lawless enclave filled with thieves, beggars, sideshow freaks, and prostitutes. She eventually meets Miss Everett, the proprietress of an "Infant School," a brothel that caters to gentlemen who pay dearly for "willing and clean" companions—desirable young virgins like Moth.

Moth also finds friendship with Dr. Sadie, a female physician struggling against the powerful forces of injustice, who teaches Moth to question and observe the world around her. The doctor hopes to protect Moth from falling prey to a terrible myth known as the "virgin cure"—the tragic belief that deflowering a "fresh maid" can cleanse the blood and heal men afflicted with syphilis—that has destroyed the lives of other Bowery girls.

Ignored by society, unprotected by the law, Moth dreams of independence. But there's a high price to pay for freedom, and no one knows that better than a girl from Chrystie Street.

First Sentence: "I am Moth, a girl from the lowest part of Chrystie Street, born to a slum-house mystic and the man who broke her heart."

Review:

Ami McKay's fiction came highly recommended, and I can certainly see why. The Virgin Cure was my first venture into her fiction but certainly shan't be the last. Slow-moving, contemplative and lush, The Virgin Cure is what I've come to expect from quality historical fiction.

Moth comes from the slums of New York City, Chrystie Street. Her mother works as a fortune teller, but they barely scrape buy, selling their possessions in the lean times. When need be, Moth's mother even trades favors to the landlord so he'll let her pay the rent late. In no way has Moth led a charmed life, so it's no surprise she dreams of escape, in the form of a beautiful house surrounded by gates. Perhaps sensing Moth's desire to fly for the light, her mother finds a placement for her in the house of a lady. Hard as life was with her mother, the lavishness of the upper classes hides damaged interiors, people just as screwed up as those without money. Where her mother withheld affection, Moth's new employer demands it, with pain as punishment for not meeting her every whim. Only twelve years old for most of the book, Moth faces the worst of what 19th century New York has to offer.

What's captivating about Moth is how incredibly young and old she feels all at once. At times, it's hard to believe she's only twelve, because she's so knowledgeable and strong. Other times her innocence and naivete, and the situations such a young girl is thrown into, about make you want to cry. Despite her tender years, she seems much more empowered and in charge of her own destiny than the average heroine. Even so, she's drawn like a moth to the light, but like Icarus it's warmth could be the death of her if she's not careful.

McKay's prose has a timeless quality, both capturing the historical era and not feeling heavy the way much historical fiction does. The Virgin Cure has an interesting format, interspersing little encyclopedia entries, letters, and newspaper articles throughout. Though I'm not entirely sure how I felt about their inclusion, it was esthetically pleasing at the very least, and it was nice having terms defined on the page, rather than having to flip to notes in the back or something like that.

Though I did quite enjoy The Virgin Cure, upon its conclusion I must admit I find myself a bit unsure what the point of it was. It may be that I simply wasn't paying enough attention at some crucial juncture to be able to pull the strings together, but I didn't get anything from it other than the joy of pretty writing and a compelling story, and I feel like there either was or should have been more. The ending came on in a rush, and the fates of the characters were so suddenly determined it has left me reeling.

All told, I deem my first McKay experience a success, and look forward to further of her works. I suspect readers who delighted in Memoirs of Geisha might appreciate The Virgin Cure, as it's a tale of a girl in similarly dire circumstances, only one with more gumption.

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote: "We came from rear tenements and cellar floors, from poverty and pride. All sneak and steal, hush and flight, those of us who lived past thirteen, fourteen, fifteen years old, those of us who managed to make any luck for ourselves at all—we became New York."

Sadie Hawkins Sunday Review #16: The Summer Garden

The Summer Garden
Tatiana and Alexander, Book 3

Author: Paullina Simons
Pages: 752
Publisher: William Morrow
Read: June 3-11, 2013
Source: Gifted
Recommended by: Lisa V.

Description from Goodreads:
The Magnificent Conclusion to the Timeless Epic Saga

Through years of war and devastation, Tatiana and Alexander suffered the worst the twentieth century had to offer. Miraculously reunited in America, they now have a beautiful son, Anthony, the gift of a love strong enough to survive the most terrible upheavals. Though they are still young, the ordeals they endured have changed them--and after living apart in a world laid waste, they must now find a way to live together in postwar America.

With the Cold War rising, dark forces at work in their adopted country threaten their lives, their family, and their hard-won peace. To regain the happiness they once knew, to wash away the lingering pain of the past, two lovers grown distant must somehow forge a new life . . .or watch the ghosts of their yesterdays destroy their firstborn son.

The Summer Garden . . . their odyssey is just beginning.

Previous Books in Series:
1: The Bronze Horseman
2: Tatiana and Alexander

First Sentence: "Once upon a time, in Stonington, Maine, before sunset, at the end of a hot war and the beginning of a cold one, a young woman dressed in white, outwardly calm but with trembling hands, sat on a bench by the harbor, eating ice cream."

Review:
FINALLY. I am done with this series. I can put it to bed and never think on it again. There are times where the series was quite good, but more times where it was frustrating, puzzling, and rage-inducing. Unfortunately, the latter sort of moments almost entirely comprise the final volume of the trilogy, making this a painful read. And, fuck yes, there will be spoilers and profanity all up in this review.

The Almost Good
Simons obviously knows how to write well. She's got a great command of language, and can put together nice complex sentences. Of course, being able to write masterfully is worthless if you don't write awesome things with your pretty sentences. However, I think even the writing has gotten worse in this third book. There were also several typos that hadn't been edited out, perhaps because even the editor couldn't stand this shit and started skimming. In one scene, the quotation marks completely disappear for about a page for no reason. Another obnoxious trend in the writing, one obviously intended to be clever, is the narrator's tendency to get really excited and end sentences with exclamation points for emphasis! Exclamation points are for dialog or first person narration, not freaking third person.

The Bad
By this point in the series, there is literally no plot, just the unfolding of the rest of Alexander and Tatiana's sex-filled lives, until the last two hundred pages where it becomes another book entirely. In no way do I think of myself as a prude about sex in novels. In fact, I sometimes quite enjoy it, though some sex scenes are giggle and snort-inducing, because of the absurd descriptions. Simons' are okay in that they mostly do not result in hilarity. However, they're also not sexy. A little goes a long way with sex in novels, I think. There's so much more power and tension in novels that have just one good kiss than in this series where Tatiana and Alexander have sex countless times. If you played a drinking game by the number of orgasms had in this book, you would die of alcohol poisoning before you finished. While I cannot say quite for certain, I'm convinced that those two characters don't have sex a single time that the reader doesn't know about it.

Keep in mind that they have a young child, and, for much of his toddler years, they have just one bedroom. So they have sex with their sleeping child several feet away myriad times. What fun. I get that their circumstances are difficult, but have someone take care of your kid for a couple hours or something. There will not be enough therapy in the world to take on this kid's emotional problems.

Describing sex is obviously Simons' favorite thing, but she does also enjoy describing Tatiana and Alexander, perfect specimens that they are. Here's a sample out of the hundreds of descriptions offered:

"She's got a tiny waist out of which her hips extend like to halves of a golden delicious apple. Her flat stomach glistens, her breasts are heaving. He is looking up at her. She is golden delicious." (390)

If you're going to read this trilogy, I hope you're very interested in Tatiana's breasts, because you get to hear about them A LOT. Also about her tiny waist. Alexander's described too, so tall and manly and strong, but Simons sure seems to enjoy describing Tania's nigh impossible figure more. And, in case you didn't know they were hot, both of them get hit on constantly by everyone. Alexander's boss' girlfriend greets him with kisses on the cheeks, but always tries to get him on the lips. A coworker of Alexander's breaks into their house in the middle of the night to rape Tatiana while keeping Alexander at bay with a gun, but Alexander saves the day, of course. These are just two examples of many.

The Fucking Ugly
Now, in theory, I do support the idea of showing the difficulties in Tatiana and Alexander's relationship after she rescued him from a concentration camp, now run by the Soviets, in Berlin. Alexander underwent a lot of torture, and would no doubt be fucked up as a result. He's scarred, inside and out. However, that does not make it okay for him to do whatever he wants, and I do not appreciate the way he treats Tatiana, even if she's okay with it. While a husband treating a wife this way might have been deemed normal or acceptable at the time, that does not make Alexander any less of an abusive monster.

One of the main fights Alexander and Tatiana have is about the fact that she insists on working at the hospital, even after he's earning enough money to support the family. All the other women stop working even when they just have boyfriends, so why won't she stay home, which is, after all, a woman's place. He bitches at her about her job constantly, accusing her of letting him and their son Anthony down by being away from home so much, even though Tatiana does fucking everything. She cooks all the food, and she's a great cook, from scratch, she keeps the house spotless, and she has sex with Alexander a million times a day, all while working 40-60 hours a week. Rather than thanking his lucky stars that he married a damn goddess, Alexander accuses her of not caring enough and of having an affair with a coworker.

After they have fights, about her job or about the fact that she has yet to become pregnant with a second child, even though fifteen or so years have passed from the birth of their first, Alexander seduces her into doing whatever he wants. Then there's this fight. An asshole friend of Alexander's is finally getting married, and they're having a bachelor party with strippers. Tatiana tells him she does not want him to go see the strippers, and after a heated discussion, he promises to leave before the strippers and be home by 1 AM. He stumbles in drunk and smelling like cheap perfume at 5 AM. Tatiana goes out to the hen party at some club the next night, as she threatened to do if he went to see the strippers. She comes home early, and reveals she was actually at the hospital, because, unlike her husband, she doesn't actually want to do things that will make him uncomfortable. She tells him not to touch her right now, and he does. He has sex with her, even though she didn't want him to. Sure, she got into it because that's what happens with them, but, in my mind, this is spousal rape. He forced her. After lots of sex, the fight's over. Just like that.

Then, later, things get worse. Alexander, convinced his wife is having an affair with a doctor at the hospital, because he saw the doctor make her laugh (no joke), and because she works Friday nights, he starts going out with a different asshole friend. A married woman with huge breasts hits on him, and he ends up playing with her breasts and getting a subpar blowjob in her car, then making plans to meet up for the real deal later that week. He tells Tatiana he's working and goes, but ultimately chickens out of actually sleeping with the woman, who calls his house and asks Tatiana where he is when Alexander doesn't show up to meet her. Penetration or not, this is adultery, and Alexander is a rat bastard who deserves to die alone.

For freaking the first time ever, Tatiana is finally so pissed she's considering leaving him, taking Anthony and going. When she says this, he hits her, several times in the face, leaving her bruised and bleeding. Just wait, though, it gets worse. Here's what Tatiana has to say: "'Except for this--anything you do is fine with me . . . So if you raise your voice or hand to me, I bow my head and take it'" (510). The this in that sentence is adultery. So, it's totally okay with her if he abuses her as long as he doesn't fuck anyone else. No, Tatiana. No, it's not okay.

What's even more not okay is that she DOES forgive him, of course. She lets him stay, and you know what his punishment is for cheating on his wife and then abusing her when she has the audacity to be mad at him about it? He finally gets more children (she was actually going to tell him she was pregnant again the night he went to fuck that other woman) and she quits her job at the hospital to raise them. You know what, Paullina Simons? It is in no way acceptable to romanticize an abusive, cheating husband, or to convey that men can do no wrong and should in fact be REWARDED for such horrific behavior.

The Shit Icing on This Crap Cake
Then, after 500+ pages of their unhealthy relationship, the book suddenly turns into a novel about the Vietnam war for a hundred pages. Simons did similar awkward changes of pace in The Bronze Horseman, but this one was even more out of place. Tatiana and Alexander's oldest son, Anthony, enlists to go Vietnam, and they freak out. In his fourth or fifth tour of duty, he goes missing. Setting up an incredibly lame parallel with the second book, Alexander goes to Vietnam to find and rescue him.

In Vietnam, Alexander discovers that his son has been entrapped by a one-eyed, eight-fingered North Vietnamese whore, who he married believing her pregnant with his child (she may or may not have been). Alexander convinces a family friend, and Anthony's commander in Vietnam, to stage a rescue to get his son in enemy territory, where he may not even be, even though this is completely against the commander's orders. In the process of rescuing Anthony (because of course they do), the Vietnamese girl (who is evil, obviously) is killed, as are a lot of the men who helped Alexander rescue his son. Alexander is grievously injured (but doesn't die because I hate everything). For their actions, both Anthony and Alexander are given medals of honor, even though Alexander wasn't supposed to fucking be there and Anthony got himself captured by falling in a love with a whore who was working as a spy. More men died in this operation than were rescued. But who fucking cares about that? All that matters is Alexander and Anthony!

Finally, I'm at the end of this damn book, the Coda, a prissy way name for the epilogue. In this epilogue, we learn that 1999, Alexander, age 80, and Tatiana, age 75, are still in love and have the perfect lives. All of their kids are married and successful. Every single child in the family is exceedingly attractive, and all the men are tall. Most important of all, you should note, each one of their four kids had at least one son, because, you know, men are more important than women, in case you missed that from all of the other misogyny in this disgusting book, which gives a happily ever after to a man who abused his wife.

Fuck This Shit, I'm Out
Now can anyone tell me why the FUCK this book has a 4.16 average rating on Goodreads? Only 81 people out of 6273 thought this was a one star book, as of the time of this writing. You know what? I give up. Everyone's entitled to their opinion, of course, but I really do not get how this book fit the epic love story that is purportedly going on in this series. Spousal rape, infidelity, and abuse are not romance, yet this is subtitled "A Love Story." Unlike Lady Gaga, I do not want any part of this Bad Romance.

Rating: .5/5

Favorite Quote:

"'I think it's something at first sight, but not necessarily love.'"

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Up Next:

The next Sadie Hawkins Sunday book will be Cold Fire by Kate Elliott, recommended by Nafiza of Bibliophilic Monologues! I read the first book in the series last year, and have both, so it's time to finish this sucker out (so I can get those review copies squared away)!

Want to tell me what to read? Fill out the following form with a suggestion! For more details, check this post.