Pirates! by Celia Rees

I have had Pirates! on my bookshelf for a long while, having originally read it when I was back in high school. I remember enjoying it at the time, and as I was feeling nostalgic I thought that I'd give it another read and see how it holds up against my older brain.

Pirates! follows Nancy Kington, the daughter of a sugar merchant, who is forced to move to her father's plantation after a storm that simultaneously ruined her father's health and fortunes. Dismayed by the treatment of the slaves that have funded her comfortable lifestyle until now and by how quickly her brothers are willing to marry her off to maintain their fortunes, she decides to run away and try to reunite with her sweetheart, William. Accompanied by one of her late father's favourite slaves, Minerva, she joins a pirate crew to try and outrun those pursuing her, and to pursue her own fortune in kind.
Re-reading Pirates!, I can definitely see why I enjoyed it as a teenager. The main cast of characters are sympathetic and interesting, and there is a lot of swashbuckling adventure to be had. Nancy is a bit of a worrier and a bit prone to melancholy, but a decent enough sort to be stuck with as a first-person narrator. If I'm honest, I always stayed because of Minerva, the fearless slave-turned-Pirate Queen, who rocks a set of breeches like a pro. I'm pretty sure she may have set off my personal love of cross-dressing women just in time to be introduced to Shakespeare's Twelfth Night and I will be forever grateful. There are a few other colourful characters to be found in the crew. There's Broom, the roguishly charming, if a tad bit dense, pirate captain. There's Graham, the morose doctor whose sensibilities are more suited for the damp of the British countryside than they are for a pirate ship roaming the Caribbean. And of course, there is the relentless antagonist, Bartholome the Brazilian, a mysterious figure who seems to have an almost satanic attunement with the sea and its treasures.
The main issue that I have found when re-reading this book as an adult is that it now seems to lack bite, and the romance seems a bit tacked on. While I found that the plot seems to hold up overall, I've since read and seen pirate stories that are more ruthless, more bloodthirsty and just overall more exciting. Reading Pirates! as an adult, I could see just how much the setting had been watered down for its audience. I don't necessarily think that that's a bad thing, considering the audience that the book is aimed at, but it was something that I hadn't taken into consideration with this re-reading. I would definitely still recommend the book, but perhaps not to those whose tastes are more hardcore.

Thoroughly enjoyable and definitely worth a recommendation to any young teens that you may know. It may come across as a bit tame and safe if your tastes run to the more violent or bloodier end of the spectrum, but is still a fun enough romp if you have the time. 4/5

Next review: The Stone Road by G. R. Matthews

Signing off,
Nisa.

Demons of the Ocean by Justin Somper

Before we start, I should admit the main reason I was looking forward to reading the first in the Vampirates series. I saw the combination of vampire and pirates, and proceeded to giggle like a particularly excitable schoolchild. That combination had the potential to be metal album cover levels of dorky cool, so I was quite looking forward to it. And then my husband, who had previously read pretty much the whole series, described it as "an earlier version of Twilight, but moreish". And I was instantly very conflicted.

Demons of the Ocean follows twins Grace and Connor Tempest, the oddly-talented children of an enigmatic lighthouse keeper. After their father's death leaving them homeless and penniless, the twins decide to steal their father's repossessed boat and take their chances out to sea. They are soon caught and separated in a storm, rescued by two separate ships. While Connor finds himself on the ship of an infamous pirate by the name of Molucco Wrathe, Grace wakes up on a ship where none but the captain walk upon the deck during daylight hours. Traumatised by their separation, the twins aim to reunite.
This is such a dumb book. I can see why my husband compares it to Twilight, as it does feel very much like fanfiction. The main issue that I have with the Vampirates series so far is that it seems very confused about what time period that it wants to be. So it's supposed to be set in the 26th century, but there doesn't seem to be any kind of attempt to capitalise on the kind of advanced technology that should be available. Instead, there seems to be a weird mix of mundane current-day technology like diver's watches and an overwhelming amount of things that would fit better in the golden age of pirates, like swords, galleons and ridiculous amounts of booty. All I wanted was for the book to settle on a time period and stick to it. If everything had been set in piracy's golden era, that would have been so much easier and wouldn't have had to change a great deal.
Despite the weird time setting inconsistencies, it was surprisingly entertaining. It's still incredibly dumb, but a fun kind of dumb, like a B-movie. It's full to the brim with stupid concepts that just about made me cry with laughter. Pirate academy, anyone?

Not the smartest of books and could have benefited from just transposing everything into the golden era of piracy to simplify all of the weird time bullshit that it has going on. Despite that, it's entertaining enough and will probably distract kids nicely. 3/5

Next review: Men at Arms by Terry Pratchett

Signing off,
Nisa.

Nightblade by Garrett Robinson

I have my sibling to thank for finding Nightblade, as they informed me about a giveaway that the author was having. It's taken me a little while to get to it, but I was looking forward to taking a look as the author seemed to be really keen on promoting diversity in his works. If there's a genre that should be more diverse but isn't, fantasy is right at the top of that list.

Nightblade follows Loren, a forester's daughter who dreams of escaping her cruel parents and becoming a thief of such calibre that legends are made of. She finds her opportunity when she meets a fugitive mage, Xain. Unfortunately, she finds that travelling with him has garnered a lot of unwanted attention, and she only has her wits and a mysterious dagger taken from her parents to protect herself with.
I had fun with Nightblade. It's not the best fantasy book that I've ever read, but it's a solid, fun read and that was honestly all I was after. The characters are interesting, if a little under-developed at the moment. Loren, the would-be thief, is an interesting mix of cynical and wide-eyed idealist, and there's a lot of righteous anger that I can see being really good to watch out for in future books. There is Annis, a merchant's daughter who is craftier than her sheltered life thus far would suggest. And there's Gem, the pickpocket who desperately wants to be a charming rogue. At the moment, there hasn't really been enough time to really develop them hugely, but I liked what I saw of it.
Similarly, there are a lot of plot points that have brought up a lot of questions, but there are very few answers as of yet. Why Xain is running from the King's Law, and what makes Loren's dagger so special are the primary questions that will hopefully be answered in the future. It's not a huge bother for me, as it's a first installment in a universe that looks to be ever expanding, and I'm more than happy to pick up more of the series, should I find it.

A decent fantasy romp. There's nothing too complicated here, but there's a lot of promise for future books, including a couple of pretty big questions currently unanswered. I'm also looking forward to seeing how the child/teenage characters develop, as it's a little on the threadbare side at the moment. Thoroughly enjoyable though. 3.5/5

Next review: Batman & the Justice League Preview Edition by Shiori Teshirogi

Signing off,
Nisa.

Found by Margaret Peterson Haddix

So Found is probably not a book that I would have picked up, had I found it outside of a book bundle. While I don't have any problem reading books aimed at children, I find that my standards for them are tougher than they are for adult books. Maybe because I grew up with things like Pixar films that can be appreciated by all ages, but dumbed down children's fiction does nothing for me. But in this case, the premise seemed interesting enough that I could take more of a chance.

Found follows Jonah Skidmore, an ordinary teenage boy who has never thought anything about his being adopted as a baby. It is only when he and his new friend Chip, who has only just discovered that he was adopted, start getting mysterious letters of warning that he wonders whether he should be concerned about who his birth parents were. When he digs into his origins though, he finds himself entangled in a mystery that involves the FBI, a vast smuggling operation and people who appear and disappear in seemingly impossible ways.
When Found started on a really intriguing scene, that of an aeroplane appearing out of thin air and containing 36 babies and no flight crew, I was really hopeful. It's nothing if not an arresting image, so you can imagine what I hoped that it would turn into. As it turned out, I would be disappointed. Don't get me wrong, the story itself was decent enough, but it just needed to be tighter, go through a few rewrites. As it was, Found was decent enough, but had a few things just annoying enough to ruin the expectations that I'd had for this.
First of all, the characters mostly ended up being generically teenager instead of especially interesting by themselves. They were all kind of dim, overly concerned with what is and is not "cool" for their age group, and seemed to have really spotty memories about a topic that they've been focusing on for several weeks by the end of the book. For instance, there's a bit where they meet a woman who saw the plane that Jonah and Chip were on as babies, and she posits that there was time travel involved. Chip's reaction to this is to mock her relentlessly for her crackpot theories, completely ignoring the fact that one of the documents he has in his possession at that very moment contains information that they had previously established would be impossible to have without something like, oh I don't know, fucking TIME TRAVEL! Like, if you wanted to have him be that sceptical, don't provide him with reason to believe the theories that he mocks. Additionally, it seems at odds with his willingness to believe another character's assertion that she saw a ghost, just because she says so. I just need consistency, please.
Secondly, there seems to be this weirdly specific body language or voice tone going on throughout the book. I can appreciate communicating additional information or context with either body language or tone of voice, because that's a thing that people do, obviously. But in Found this is made into so specific and exact a form of communication that it becomes really distracting.
Lastly, it just started to drag, with little of actual substance happening between Jonah and his family meeting the FBI to discuss his adoption, and the showdown in the latter third. It's the three main characters investigating, poorly, and getting more and more panicky because of the vague and menacing dangers around them. It did pick up at the end, but by then my experience had been tainted by the slog of the beginning and middle thirds. And if I'm bored then I can't imagine a child or young teenager will do much better.

Found ends on a cliff-hanger, but I don't know if I'd deliberately go out of my way to continue reading the series. The characters are pretty much just generic young teens and haven't got much interesting about each of them individually. The writing can be distracting at times, with the sort of annoying writing tics that draw you out of your immersion. And while it did pick up towards the end, the first two thirds seemed to drag interminably through a pretty shabby investigation. Not terrible, but not particularly great either. 3/5

Next review: Small Gods by Terry Pratchett

Signing off,
Nisa.

Abandon by Meg Cabot

Having been thoroughly disappointed with my last read, I was hoping that my next Young Adult book would be more my style. I had read Meg Cabot books previously, specifically the first couple of volumes of both her Princess Diaries series and her Heather Wells series. The latter series I was quite fond of, and the former was far enough in the past that my recollections of reading it were hazy at best. So I had hopes that Abandon would at least be decent.

Abandon follows Pierce Oliviera, a teenager who had a near-death experience. Following her parents' divorce and a mysterious incident that caused her to be expelled from her previous school, she moves with her mother to Isla Huesos in Florida. Wanting a fresh start, Pierce can't help but be fearful, because when she came back to life, she brought something strange and possibly cursed back with her.
I wanted to like this. I'm something of a Greek myth buff, and while the Persephone myth isn't my favourite, I was interested in seeing how it would be reinterpreted. But Abandon just seemed to defy my efforts at every turn.
First of all, since I've mentioned that it's a re-write of the myth of Persephone's kidnap/marriage to Hades, of course there will be a death-god figure for Pierce to both run from and fall in love with. That relation could be interesting, if you went for the whole "I love the person, but I can't give up my life or family to be with them" angle. But despite the in-depth descriptions of John's good looks and the attempts to do the whole "they bicker, so they must be in love!" trope, there is so little chemistry that it all falls flat. And honestly, you have to be concerned when your main character's attempts to reach out emotionally to him devolves to her consciously using tactics learnt from working with wild animals. If you're treating someone you're attracted to like some kind of humanoid badger, then you have issues. Additionally, they don't seem to have actually spent more than a few hours in each other's company over all their encounters, and yet they're quite happy to talk about loving each other. I can barely get a general impression of someone in a few hours, let alone fall in love, so it smacks of obligation more than anything.
This lack of chemistry stems largely from the second issue that I have with Abandon. Pierce doesn't really seem to have a great deal of personality beyond the fact that she died and now has a magic necklace that warns her of danger. And considering that a huge chunk of the plot doesn't deal with supernatural stuff, but her attempts to settle into a new school following some severe traumas, that's a problem. She just sorts of gets carried along by events there, and all that I could take from those sections is that she's drawn to meddling in other people's problems without permission, and isn't especially suited to it. After a while, her incessant whining that somehow people think you're crazy when you tell them "I can protect you from the evil!" get really annoying, along with her repeated exclamations of "Check yourself before you wreck yourself". I don't care if it's even a little bit sarcastic, it soon starts to grate on your nerves. It wasn't long before I had concluded that I couldn't care less what happened to her, which is the kiss of death for a first-person narrative.
The third issue that I have with Abandon is that it takes far too long to get Pierce's backstory over and done with. So, there are two main issues that have impacted on Pierce's life within the past two years that are deemed to be important: her near-death experience where she met and escaped from the Love Interest, and an incident at her former school involving scandal and one of her teachers. What I would have done is maybe dedicate a couple chapters to each event and intersperse them with present-day events, but focus on the entirety of the event at one time. Cabot instead decides to drip feed both of them over the space of two thirds of the book, with both events frequently interrupted by mundane bullshit like school assemblies and queuing for ice cream. This is aggravating to the extreme, as it's obviously meant to raise tension, but there's a massive flaw that means that whatever tension is achieved falls flat. The events themselves are easy to work out. The scandal at her old school for instance? As soon as I heard that a teacher was involved and that Pierce had gotten herself in hot water by trying to get evidence against him, I knew that it would involve the teacher being pervy with his female students. And wouldn't you know, I was absolutely right. Now, compare Abandon with a property that takes this tired "Hot for Student" scenario and makes it work, namely the game Persona 5. Being a video game, it amps the tension by making it the focus of the consumer's attention and it raises the stakes with elements like a time restriction. It also spends a decent amount of time actually building up the secondary characters, so that when they start being harmed because of the teacher's abuse of power, you actually give a shit. In comparison, Abandon spends so much time stalling that you're praying to get the backstory over and done with, rather than being left on-edge to find out how it all turns out.
The fourth issue that I have is the role of the Furies. The Furies are depicted as enemies of John, and by extension Pierce, because they are damned souls who are angry at their treatment. This bugs me for two reasons. Firstly because according to Greek myths, the Furies were deities of vengeance who would target those who committed crimes like matricide or swearing false oaths. They're vicious, but their targets have traditionally been guilty in some fashion, they're the idea that certain crimes won't go unpunished even if mortal justice proves inadequate. To make them mindlessly evil is disingenuous to their mythic origins. Secondly, it seems weird that these all-powerful beings who exist solely to torment the deity running the Underworld are just the souls of evil people. If it's such a problem that Furies are actively possessing and corrupting living people to carry out their plans, then surely you would try and find out what the fuck it is that Hell is doing to make these things and stop it, not just keep shipping souls in to become new Furies only to wonder why your quality of life has plummeted. There's a line from Shakespeare's The Tempest that states "Hell is empty and all the devils are here", but I somehow doubt that it was meant to be taken literally.
Fifth issue is a bit of a spoiler. So it turns out that Furies have been targeting Pierce, and John is concerned that he can't protect her. His solution is to kidnap her again. But it's okay this time, because it's for her own good, and hey, if she gives it time then maybe she'll come to like being in the Underworld. Seriously, what is it with my reading list at the moment? I can't seem to get away from YA books that try to tone down kidnapping at the moment. I explored my issues with this last review, so just assume that it applies here too. Also, it ends having resolved absolutely fuck all of the issues that had been brought up. What was the point of spending so much time with the nasty popular kids in order to help her cousin work through some undefined issues that he has with them, if the main character is ripped out of the world before anything happens with it?
The last issue is just something that bewildered me to the point of exasperation. It turns out that Furies like tassels, so whenever they turn up in the narrative they signal oncoming danger. Let me state that again for the record. Tassels are a legitimate harbinger of doom. I don't think I need to point out the idiocy of that.

Abandon is a book that I wanted to like, but it manages to brain itself at every hurdle. The main character is a charming mix of annoying and boring. Her relationship with the love interest lacks any chemistry, having spent at most a few hours in each other's company over the entirety of their encounters and at times she treats him more like a wild animal than a person. The backstory is spoon-fed to the reader at such an excruciatingly slow pace that whatever tension the author hoped to create is destroyed. The present-day plot is boring and more or less entirely pointless by the end. The mythology that it reports to take inspiration from is cherry-picked and not especially well. It tries to justify kidnapping by the time it ends, and TASSELS of all things are harbingers of doom. Do not bother. 1.5/5

Next review: Junky by William S. Burroughs

Signing off,
Nisa.

Stolen by Lucy Christopher

If I hadn't gotten Stolen as part of an audiobook bundle, I probably would have passed it by. While I'm not averse to Young Adult novels, I usually end up pairing them with other genres like Fantasy or Science Fiction, rather than Contemporary. If I want to read about real life, my first instinct would be to reach for Non-Fiction. Nonetheless, the premise did intrigue me somewhat, and if I already had a copy there seemed no point avoiding it.

Stolen is narrated by Gemma, a 16-year-old girl who is kidnapped while en route with her parents to Vietnam. When she steps away to get a coffee, an older man buys coffee for her, drugging it to make sure she doesn't try and struggle. He takes her to the Australian outback, to a desolate outpost of his own making that she can only survive in with his aid.
I wanted to like Stolen because the blurb made it sound like a bid for survival against incredible odds. It is most certainly not that. I read this in what was a barely contained simmer of anger and frustration. There were a few reasons for this, and they can be embodied in the two main characters: the victim, Gemma, and the kidnapper, Ty.
So, first of all, Gemma. There were a couple things that bugged me about her. First was the fact that she didn't seem to have a whole lot of personality. I appreciate that when confined to an isolated outpost in the Australian bush, there's only a certain amount that you can do to signpost character building, but even the flashbacks she had about before she was kidnapped were more or less bare of personality. So it transpires that the kidnapper was first drawn to Gemma when she was a child, and her make-believe involved flower fairies, and the fact that she engaged in imaginative play like every other child in existence somehow made her special. When she got into her teenage years, she started resenting her parents for controlling her life! So special! So utterly normal for someone going through massive hormonal changes! The only other thing that comes up is her getting wasted in the park with her friends, which is also, say it with me, entirely mundane and not at all special for someone of her age group. At the end of the book, I knew practically nothing about her as a person beyond the stereotype of a middle class teenager. There are no hobbies that I can list, I know nothing about her friends despite her name-checking them multiple times during the narrative, there are no personality traits that I can name now that it's all over. So there's not much incentive for me to want her to get home. Additionally, and this is probably a personal issue, she doesn't seem to make much of the opportunities that she gets to escape. My husband finds it endlessly amusing that my reaction to most conflict in films can boil down to "Find the person responsible for the problem, and start breaking bones until the problem can be considered solved." Violent and a bit reductionist I accept, but it can be vaguely amusing. Not here. Here, that tendency just made the whole captivity bit endlessly frustrating. For example, there's a part where Ty gets a load of scratches on his hands and he pleads with her to help him clean up the wounds, otherwise his hands will be useless. When she first asked what he would do for her in return, I could have cheered. She asks to be taken back home, and he refuses. Fair enough, more or less what I expected. But then she just kind of drops the matter, and asks him some useless fucking question about how he built the hovel that he expects her to treat like a fucking palace. And my mind went wild, asking questions about why she didn't double down and keep asking to be taken back. Hell, a large part of me was screaming at her to find some lye, and see how long he really wanted to be stuck with her after that. She kept hesitating, like she can somehow reason with Ty.
Which brings me to my second major problem with the book. I could have appreciated Ty as a villain, if the narrative didn't want so much for the reader to want to fix him. He's kidnapped a girl almost a decade younger than him who he's been stalking since she was 10, sure, but look at how pretty and muscular he is. He's a hypocrite who wants freedom for himself but sees no issue with abducting anyone or anything that he could benefit from, but you can't be mad because he had a traumatic childhood. He'll prevent anything that Gemma wants unless it directly coincides with what he wants, but he hasn't raped her so of course it doesn't count as actual abuse. Sure, Stockholm Syndrome is brought up in the final chapter, but that doesn't mean I have to like how the narrative goes. There's a line towards the end where Gemma says "It's hard to hate someone once you understand them", and I hate it with a passion. Just because an abuser does something nice doesn't make up for all the awful things that they do. It reminded me of a scene in An Evil Cradling by Brian Keenan, which is a hell of a harrowing read, but a really valuable experience in my opinion. There's a scene where the kidnappers, after months of horrific mistreatment, throw a birthday party for one of the hostages. It shows a more vulnerable side to the jailers, but all it does is make them repulsive instead. And that is what Ty's "tragic" backstory does for me: instead of making him more sympathetic, he only becomes more disgusting and pathetic. And the fact that anyone is taking anything romantic out of Stolen just makes me sick to my stomach.
About the only thing I did like was the description of the Australian outback. It's vivid and colourful and sensual, and I could only wish that such descriptions were contained in a less objectionable story.

Some pretty descriptions of the outback are about the only good thing that can be taken from Stolen. Otherwise it's an anger-inducing story about a girl utterly lacking in personality, who slowly becomes convinced that as her kidnapper hasn't tried raping or killing her, that means it's twue wuv. Christ, it's utterly nauseating. Newsflash, abuse isn't sexy and Stockholm Syndrome isn't romantic. Don't touch with a barge pole. 1/5

Next review: Abandon by Meg Cabot

Signing off,
Nisa.

The Princess Bride by William Goldman

If anyone out there has seen the film The Princess Bride, then you should know why I picked up the book version. It is one of my absolute favourite films and so damn quotable. So obviously when I saw the book on sale, I couldn't help but pick it up and partake in that bittersweet exercise of comparing the book and the movie. To do otherwise would be inconceivable.

As a small boy, William Goldman learned to love literature after his father read him the story of The Princess Bride by S. Morgenstern, an epic tale of swordplay, revenge and true love. When he tries to pass on this love to his son, however, he finds that his father may have trimmed the novel down to "the good parts", sparing him countless pages of tedious satire. As such, he decides to abridge the novel, presenting the novel to the reader as it was read to him, with copious abridging notes along the way.
There was probably a part of me that knew that this was coming, but The Princess Bride was better as a movie. While I was very much a fan of some of the additional details, like Inigo and Fezzik's back-stories, I found that the majority of these details worked more to bog the narrative down. Take the asides by Goldman as part of the abridging work. The ones that work the best are the ones that he keeps short, sweet and to the point. Because when they don't, the narrative can take a turn for the overly clever or, more often, self-satisfied and mean-spirited. Honestly, that's the most disappointing part. What should be interesting to a reader, expanding what we know about characters that you loved from the film version, is ruined because the things that were mere niggles in the film are now amplified. Buttercup's lack of common sense is now stupidity to the point that the reader is in danger of completely missing what Westley sees in her other than her beauty. Westley's controlling behaviour is likewise made uncomfortable with such lines as "Woman, you are the property of the Dread Pirate Roberts and you do what you're told!" pushing his character neatly over the line into the list of characters most likely to commit mariticide at some point after the story's end. At the end of the day though, the film was an uncannily faithful adaptation, all things considered, so fans of the film should still enjoy themselves.

If you loved the film version like I did, this is sort of a disappointment. The fundamentals are there, it's just that it becomes too clunky in places where the extra details only highlight the niggles in the more streamlined adaptation. Much as he berates the fictional S. Morgenstern for bogging the narrative down with too much detail for the sake of cleverness, Goldman finds himself falling into the same trap at times. I'd still happily recommend the book though, as the story is solid enough to endure the odd misstep. Just maybe accept that in this instance, the film is better than the book. 4/5

Next review: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass by Lewis Carroll

Signing off,
Nisa.

Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

After the disappointment that was The Mammoth Book of Body Horror, I was in the mood for something familiar. I hadn't read Treasure Island in years, and remembered really enjoying it when I was younger, so it seemed like the perfect book to revisit.

Treasure Island follows a young boy named Jim Hawkins. Helping his parents run their inn, the Admiral Benbow, he meets a cantankerous old sailor who is rather keen on avoiding other seamen. When he dies after his old crewmates turn up to harass him, Jim gets his hands on the old man's sea-chest, with a treasure map inside. Joined by Doctor Livesey and Squire Trelawney, they embark on a journey to retrieve the treasure, gathered initially by the infamous Captain Flint. But all is not well, as their crew of honest hands has been infiltrated by former members of Flint's crew, most notably the one-legged Long John Silver.
It might just be the innumerable film adaptations overriding my memories of the book, but I do not remember there being quite as much malaria in Treasure Island. I'd also managed to forget a whole chunk of the book in which Jim manages to steal back their ship, the Hispaniola, which is probably more worrying. Regardless, I still enjoyed it about as much as I did when I was a kid. There was a small part of my brain making things weird by thinking of my two favourite adaptations (the Muppet version and Disney's weird but somehow still coherent Victoriana Space Opera version), but it does definitely still stand up by itself.
One thing that I will mention for those of you who haven't read Treasure Island, but have seen a bunch of the adaptations is that Hollywood has a weird obsession with trying to make Long John Silver into a kind of weird father-figure for Jim. There isn't really much of that in the actual book, with Silver being more or less a child-friendly depiction of a psychopath. Sure he switches sides towards the end, but not out of any genuine affection for Jim; considering that the alternative is dying on a malaria-ridden island with three former comrades who really aren't satisfied with the way that his grand voyage has panned out, it's a purely pragmatic decision. That's not a bad thing, it's just something that would stand out if you've only ever seen film versions before.

Treasure Island is a classic for a reason. The characters are great, the action is gripping and who doesn't love pirates? If you've only ever seen the film versions before though, you might want to prepare yourself for a significantly less likeable Long John Silver. 4.5/5

Next review: Summer Knight by Jim Butcher

Signing off,
Nisa.

The Poison Eaters and Other Stories by Holly Black

Unusually, I've gone for two short story collections on the trot. Maybe it's because I'm on holiday, but I've found myself really in the mood for something more bitesize. And considering that I've mostly enjoyed the dark fantasy stuff that Holly Black has written, I was interested to see how she holds up using short forms of fiction. Anything to take my mind off my sunburn has to be some good anyway. 

The Poison Eaters and Other Stories collects a series of short stories by the Curse Worker series author Holly Black. Some of the stories reference some of her longer work, with "Going Ironside" and "The Land of Heart's Desire" being set in her Modern Faery Tale series, while the opening tale "The Coldest Girl in Coldtown" is set in the same universe as her novel of the same name. The subject matter ranges from vampires to unicorns and even as far as living books and girls whose touch can kill. 

Usually I prefer single-author anthologies, as you tend to get a more even tone and quality to the stories contained due to only coming from one author. Usually that's the case anyway. For some reason, Black seems to be a writer that I either love or could give or take, depending on what of hers I'm reading. It was very much in evidence here. On the side of absolutely love, I would have killed to have more stories like the eponymous "The Poison Eaters", "The Coat of Stars" or "The Dog King"; those stories were my certain top three when I was looking over the contents in preparation for this review. And much of the rest of the stories were similarly strong. But for me, there were four stories that just fell flat for me: "The Boy Who Cried Wolf", "Virgin", "In Vodka Veritas" and "Going Ironside". With those stories, there just didn't seem to be much actual content within them to grab a reader's attention. And considering that there's only 12 stories in the collections, I don't feel confident giving it top marks when there was around a third of the content that I was ambivalent at best about. Were there perhaps more stories with the quality of the three that I picked out as my favourites, then I'd perhaps feel a bit more positive about the collection. 

Quite a good collection overall, but The Poison Eaters and Other Stories is somewhat brought down by a few stories that, while not necessarily bad, are much less interesting. I'd still read it for "The Poison Eaters", "The Coat of Stars" and "The Dog King", but you might want to go in aware. 3.5/5 

Next review: Signal to Noise by Neil Gaiman & Dave McKean 

Signing off, 

Nisa. 

The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle

The Last Unicorn is one of those stories that I only really heard of after I started venturing out onto the Internet a bit more, and even then I seemed to find mostly artwork of the eponymous unicorn, with surprisingly little about the actual story. So when I got round to actually reading it, it had become a weird kind of amorphous non-entity: apparently a really beloved classic, but with little actual substance that I could see and figure out why people liked it.

It is a regular eternally spring day for the unicorn, when she hears a message that she can't bring herself to ignore: that she is the last of her kind in the world. Venturing from the safety of her forest, she sets out to find out what happened to others like her. Joining her on her journey are Schmendrick, the world's worst magician, and Molly Grue, an indomitable spinster. But the three of them may not be enough to combat the terrible Red Bull that stalks the land of the miserly King Haggard.
What I'm about to say probably won't make much sense. Because I had a copy of the deluxe edition, my edition of The Last Unicorn came with a lot of additional material, including an introduction and an interview that hammer in one point about the writing process for this book: it was a complete chore and it took years before Beagle could look at it and admit to himself that it was any good. And while I did like what I read, I think that there is a part of that struggle that shows through the writing. The Last Unicorn is a truly beautiful book at several points, but as a whole it kind of left me emotionally cold. I don't know what it was, but despite enjoying it, The Last Unicorn probably won't be high on my list of books to re-read any time soon. It's like watching a dancer who is technically flawless, but who doesn't enjoy performing anymore and hits her cues more out of obligation than anything else. The parts that I liked were the points where the fairy tale stuff was juxtaposed by the moments of crushing reality: the spider crying in the night having discovered that it can't weave the moon in her web, or Molly asking why the unicorn only turns up in her life after her youth and loveliness have already left. The more traditionally fantasy elements, regardless of how self-aware they are, seem to be there more to fit the story structure. It is really well written though, so I would be interested to see some more of Beagle's work, perhaps something that hadn't been such a struggle for him.

Thoroughly beautiful at times, but I can't honestly say that The Last Unicorn did much for me emotionally. There's nothing specifically wrong with the novel, but this just wasn't really for me. Pleasant enough and probably enough to warrant reading other works by this author, but this work seemed a bit too beholden to obligating fairy tale tropes to really stretch out and become something truly wonderful. I am probably in a minority here though. 3.5/5

Next review: Grave Peril by Jim Butcher

Signing off,
Nisa.

Little Brother by Cory Doctorow

As some of you may have noticed, I am currently working my way through the second Humble ebook Bundle. I remember being vaguely interested in Little Brother when I first got the bundle, if only because it was dealing with a subject that I could discuss with my husband. If nothing, it would be nice to be able to actively engage with one of his special interests a bit more.

Little Brother follows Marcus Yallow, a more or less regular teen with a particular interest in technology and the ways that it can help him bunk off school. One particular day, he and some friends skip class, only to find themselves in the vicinity of a major terrorist attack on San Francisco. During the chaos, he and his friends are arrested by the Department of Home Security and interrogated for nearly a week. When he is let out, he realises that his best friend Darryl wasn't released with them. Combined with the fact that the DHS has made San Francisco into a police state, and Marcus has more than enough reason to take them down.
Right, so there's something that I want to get out of the way right away. While I did enjoy Little Brother overall, there is a lot of stuff that Doctorow explains, especially at the beginning. While I do acknowledge that there's a fair bit that does need to be expanded on, especially if computers and security systems aren't subjects that you've looked into before, there is still a fine line with how much is necessary for proper engagement. I don't know whether this is because my husband has tried to explain at least some basic concepts to me, but I personally found that the stuff at the beginning kind of went overboard with the detail. Contrasting that, a concept that comes up later in the novel was so strangely explained that I had to get my husband to re-explain it for me when I got home from work. That last point aside though, there isn't really anything complicated enough to derail the plot and I can understand that you would want to err on the side of too much information when you're targeting a slightly younger audience. So this might be more of an annoyance if you're more familiar with coding when you go into this, but for complete beginners I can see the overabundance of detail being more useful than annoying.
Having gotten that negativity out of the way, I will say that I really enjoyed Little Brother. It is a really insightful look into what could happen if a country decides that the needs of "security" overrides the rights of its citizens' to privacy and free speech. The fact that I finished this on the day that Erdogan banned Wikipedia in Turkey, in order to block out content by writers accused of "supporting terror", is not something that has escaped me. Following the initial terror attack at the beginning, terrorists aren't even considered a credible threat by the narrative, regardless of how much the DHS try to insist that they're the only threat. And I think that that is very telling actually. While terrorism is something that has mentally and emotionally shaped Western society since the turn of the century and I wouldn't want to underplay the damage that these individuals have caused to the families of their victims, I don't think that terrorists are what we are really scared of. At least for me, there is the awareness that terror groups just don't have the resources or numbers in order to actually change things or even react to the increased measures against them. In contrast, working as a public servant I am keenly aware of just how much information that a government has about its citizens, and the prospect of what could happen if my government decided that it could exploit that in the name of safety feels a lot more real and legitimately terrifies me at times. But then I talk to my parents about this, and they're of a generation that doesn't necessarily understand technology as much and would perhaps prefer to err on the side of security over internet freedom. Little Brother gets into this younger mindset really well, and is probably a good place to try and introduce these kinds of concepts to those who aren't as familiar with them.

Definitely one to recommend for someone looking for a semi-realistic modern dystopia. It's a bit over-the-top when it comes to explaining concepts at times, but for the most part it appears to be pretty accurate when it comes to all things coding. 4/5

Next review: Shards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold

Signing off,
Nisa.

Boneshaker by Cherie Priest

Boneshaker has been on my reading list for a fair while now, picked up as part of a geeky bundle. I was definitely looking forward to this one though, as it combines one of my favourite sub-genres, steampunk, with something looking horror elements. I was keen to see how it would pan out.

In an alternate history where the Civil War has been raging for two decades, an attempt to mine through the frozen Klondike for gold leads to disaster when the massive drill known as the Boneshaker destroys huge parts of downtown Seattle and releases a previously subterranean gas that turns those unfortunate to breathe it into the living dead. Sixteen years later, the worst affected parts of the city have been sealed off by walls, and the widow and son of the Boneshaker's inventor, Leviticus Blue, are trying to make a living whilst dealing with the ignominy of their relative's devastating actions. When Ezekiel makes his way into the sealed off city determined to find proof of his father's lack of malicious intent, Briar must find a way through the living dead and heavily armed criminals still living in the ravaged city in order to bring her son back.
Boneshaker was something of a slow burner for me. While I absolutely loved Briar and her sections trying to reach her son whilst regretting all the things that she never felt ready to tell him about his father, I was less keen on Zeke's sections. While there's nothing outright wrong about the way that he's written, I just find his kind of character irritating. An ounce of prevention being worth a pound of cure and all, it's more interesting watching Briar's more considered approach as opposed to Zeke's "I have maps and a mask, I have no more need for preparation" plan of attack, which inevitably leads to a lot of blind panic. He does get better by the end though, so it's worth it to plough through his sections of blundering in the middle of the book. And Boneshaker is definitely worth finishing. Keeping in mind that it's alternate history and thus there are some massive creative liberties that have been taken with regards to historical accuracy, you can really tell that Priest is enthusiastic about the period and tries to keep as much historical flavour as possible within her re-imagined chronology. It makes the world feel a lot more grounded and realistic than a lot of other fantasy/science-fiction books, even compared to series where comparatively little is different to the real world. I can't really think of many people that I couldn't recommend this to.

A steampunk story that feels a lot more grounded than other examples in the genre even considering the additional undead, Boneshaker is definitely a book that I would recommend picking up for fans of the genre or those looking to for an introduction to steampunk. I personally found Zeke's sections in the middle to be a bit tiresome at times, but they are more than made up for by Briar's sections and he does gradually get some decent character development. The characters are solid, and there is some decent intrigue. 4.5/5

Next review: Just a Geek by Wil Wheaton

Signing off,
Nisa.

Wild Magic by Tamora Pierce

Now this was one hell of a nostalgic book to re-read. Wild Magic was a book that I first bought while I was in high school, and it has been revisited enough that the front cover is almost more crease than card at this point. After the intense and not wholly pleasant experience that was reading Stalkers, I needed something familiar.

Following the deaths of her mother and grandfather at the hands of bandits, Daine Sarrasri decides to make a fresh start in the country of Tortall. Signing up with Onua, horse trainer for the elite soldiers known as the Riders, she soon finds that what she always assumed was a knack for dealing with animals may in fact be a magical talent known as Wild Magic. With supernatural creatures returning to Tortall and the threat of war from overseas, Daine must master her newly discovered abilities and confront the possibility of madness if she wants to protect her new friends.
I've had Wild Magic in my collection for around 10 years now and I've re-read it multiple times within that decade, so I'm hardly going to write a negative review of this. Daine is a wonderful main protagonist, both headstrong and willing to speak her mind, whilst still retaining the kind of uncertainty and lack of confidence that a lot of girls her age exhibit. It's nice that she just kind of falls into the whole role of hero, as opposed to actively seeking it like a lot of protagonists do. All she's trying to do is get by on her own and so her acquisition of power feels more like the kind of self-improvement that you naturally go through as you grow and mature.
Since animals are a big part of this particular series, I think it would make sense to briefly mention how they are depicted. There's very much an emphasis on people and creatures acting according to their inherent nature, and that comes out very well with the animals that turn up. There's a battle scene towards the end of the novel, where Daine is given a warning about encroaching enemies by a collection of bats, but when the other characters ask her to get some more precise reconnaissance she opts for consulting with owls, who are less naturally skittish. There's enough detail to make the animals seem intelligent in their own ways, but not to the point where they could be mistaken for human or supernatural characters. The exception to this is Cloud, Daine's mare, but then the two of them have been together long enough that Daine's magic has made a significant impact on the horse's mind. And Cloud is delightfully sarcastic and stubborn, so I'm not especially bothered by her unusually human-like intelligence.

Wild Magic is one of those books that I will always go back to when I want to read something comforting and entertaining. The characters are charming and likeable, the animals are portrayed really well, and it makes a great set-up for further adventures with Daine. 4.5/5

Next review: Storm Front by Jim Butcher

Signing off,
Nisa.

Weekend by Christopher Pike

When I was a teenager, I used to stay around my grandparents' house a lot over the school holidays, and they would always allow me to use their library card. Whilst exploring the library there, I first discovered Christopher Pike, whose books I would have a love-hate relationship with from that day. I have previously read Weekend, but it has been a while and I wanted to see how it held up.

In Weekend we follow a group of friends who are spending their last days before graduation on holiday in Mexico. But what should be a dream holiday is made tense by memories of an unexplained accident that left one of their party severely ill. These tensions are ramped up as things go wrong one by one, starting with the phone lines going dead.
I'd forgotten just how 80s this novel feels at times. These days you'd have to write in why no-one is using a mobile phone for one thing. But mainly, the characters feel very reminiscent of the kind of teenagers that you got in films from that generation, both in teen dramas and slasher films. None of them are really all that likeable, but they're entertaining enough that you want them to stay alive. While that can be really cheesy here, it does feel kind of comfortable. Like nothing new has been made here, but the stuff that does come up is handled at least competently. After the irritation that was The Benson Murder Case, I think I needed a bit of comfort reading.
Admittedly, I'm not sure why Weekend is labelled as horror, considering that it only barely flirts with the genre in the most minimal way possible. And of Christopher Pike's work, it is also one of the least scary. If you start reading it expecting scares, then you'd be disappointed. If you're looking for a pretty decent thriller and mystery, then you're probably on safer territory.

Overall, pretty cheesy and very 80s in feel, but quite good if you're looking for something comforting and easy on the brain. One of Pike's less tense books, but still one of the most tonally consistent of his works. 3.5/5

Next review: Batman: The Dark Knight: Golden Dawn by David Finch & Jason Fabok

Signing off,
Nisa.

The Midnight Palace by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

There are some of you out there, very few I would imagine, who can remember when this blog reviewed books on a chapter-by-chapter basis. Those of you who do remember my experimental phase will remember that the second book that I looked at was The Prince of Mist by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. Turns out there's a series of children's/young adult's novels that he's written, of which my current subject of review, The Midnight Palace, is the second installment of. I had certain issues with the previous installment, so I wanted to see if they carried over to this newer story.

The Midnight Palace starts in 1916 Calcutta, as a man desperately runs through the city streets, attempting to find safety for a set of newborn twins whilst being pursued by assassins intent on the children's deaths. The story then jumps forward 16 years, to the summer in which Ben and his friends grow out of the orphanage system that has been their home for all or most of their young lives. Coming together for a final meeting of their secret society, they stumble upon a mystery that is closely tied to Ben's unknown family past when Ben meets the sister that he never knew about. Much as he would like to get to know his sister better, Ben finds their reunion cut short as they are hounded by the same shadowy figure that tried to kill them as newborns.
I'm kind of disappointed to say it, but Carlos Ruiz Zafon doesn't really seem to write young adult novels terribly well. Right, so I suppose that I should start with what I liked about The Midnight Palace, give me at least something positive to say here. So, I really liked the atmosphere of menace and uncertainty that the book manages to keep up for the majority of the plot. There's something palpably unnerving about a group of teenagers attempting to combat an entity that is so far beyond the scope of what they can even begin to deal with, and it's a source of tension that Zafon is very good at implementing and has implemented just as masterfully in his adult novels. It does get you rooting for the heroes quite effectively, a desire to see the underdog win as it were.
Onto the first thing that I wasn't fond of. Apart from the villain Jawahal and the twins, the characters are practically two-dimensional. Possibly this is where The Prince of Mist benefitted, as that had a comparatively small cast. Here, there are eight teens to try and flesh out, and there just isn't enough room to give them anything more than a couple of superficial character traits. For example, there was one character whose sole characteristic shown in the narrative is that he's a fast runner. According to some of the narration, he can also pick locks like a champ, but it never comes up as a skill that he actually used. Not that it matters, since running and lock-picking are not personality traits. Sure, one can imply certain things from someone who is good at these skills, but really those are traits that should be shown directly. There's another character whose sole trait is that she's the female member of the group. Practically nothing else. It's frustrating as I started reading Zafon's work via his adult works, The Shadow of the Wind specifically, where there is a large cast that still manages to be vivid and interesting and utterly heartbreaking. So to see the cardboard cut-out excuses of characters in The Midnight Palace gives me no end of frustration, because I have seen him do so much better when he gives himself room to breathe.
The second thing that bothers me is the ending. Up until the ending, I was having a reasonably good time. Sure, the characters were flatter than pancakes, but the mystery was engaging and I wanted to see how the villain could be overcome. My disappointment with the ending is twofold and kind of spoilery, so if you still want to read the book, I'd advise maybe skipping to the summary at the end of the review. Okay, so firstly, it's disappointing because Zafon wrote almost the exact same ending in The Prince of Mist: the villain is exorcised, but only at the cost of the life of one of the protagonists, hanging over the lives of the rest of the cast from then onwards. I don't mind there being thematic or symbolic similarities between the two books if they're meant to be part of a series, but when your ending follows the same pattern, then I start wondering what the point of reading any of the other installments is. Secondly, it just smacked of adult bitterness and in terms of tone, it just felt wrong. Up until the final confrontation between Ben and Jawahal, it had been a young adult book, leaning more towards the younger end of the genre's age range. The ending itself would have been more fitting in an adult novel about childhood and growing up, because it just felt too bitter to appeal to an audience of around the same age as the characters. I guess that I'm disappointed because up until then, there had been an emphasis on the family that a person chooses for themselves through their friendships, and the cast's desire to hold onto it even as they moved into the uncertainty of adult life. It's a theme that I can really get behind, but it was all dashed by an epilogue that could be more or less summed up as "everyone has died or will die alone and isolated from humanity." I tell you, it's saying something when the young adult's book has a bleaker ending than the violent and mercenary world of Joe Abercrombie's books, and it's nothing good. Sure, make the ending bittersweet if it makes sense, but there comes a point where you may as well have not bothered with the narrative at all if the finale makes everything a pyrrhic victory that the author hasn't signposted well enough.

I want to like The Midnight Palace more than I do. While I was frustrated by the stunted character development, I was still enjoying myself with a pretty decent mystery compounded by a supernatural threat. Then the ending ruined it all by being almost identical to The Prince of Mist in formula, and by being bleak for bleakness' sake. The tone just went all wrong. 2.5/5

Next review: The Silver Chair by C. S. Lewis

Signing off,
Nisa.

Priestess of the White by Trudi Canavan

Amongst the fantasy fans out of my group of friends, there are certain author names that seem to crop up a lot, regardless of the sub-genre or tone that these readers tend to plump for. Trudi Canavan is one of those, especially in connection to her Black Magician trilogy. So when I found that my younger sibling owned the first of her Age of the Five trilogy, Priestess of the White, I decided to see what all the fuss was about.

Priestess of the White follows quite a few groups of people, but primary amongst them is Auraya. She is a young priestess, talented both in her magical gifts and her ability to mediate, who finds herself chosen as the last of the White, a group of priests and priestesses hand-picked by the gods as their most powerful servants. While she is thrilled by the trust that her deities have placed in her, she finds that being one of the White brings up a lot more difficulties that she had ever expected. Firstly, she must prepare herself and the allies of the White for war when word reaches them of a great army being raised against them in the South of the continent, led by a cult who proclaim that the White worship dead gods. Secondly, she must try and reconcile her present role with her relationship to the only friend she has left from her days before entering the priesthood, Leiard; while she is naturally inclined to empathise and like him, he is a Dreamweaver, one of a cult that her gods have deemed blasphemous.
There are a lot of things to like about Priestess of the White. Firstly, the characters are all really well-constructed with a lot of conflicting and paradoxical viewpoints. For example, there's Auraya. Her natural instinct is to encourage tolerance and acceptance amongst all the people that she can influence through peaceful means. But in her role as a priestess, she has to come to terms with the fact that she wants people to join her faith specifically, and the consequence that means that she will eventually cause her friend Leiard's way of life to die out completely, even as she preaches tolerance for his faith. With Leiard, there is his faith that Auraya will never knowingly hurt him or his kind conflicting with the equally strong belief that he will still come out second best if Auraya had to choose between him and the gods. And my personal favourite, Tryss, a member of a fragile flying sub-species of humanity, whose determination to give his people a means to defend themselves ultimately leads to him having to face the prospect of his family and friends going to war, despite their already low numbers. And each main character that the narrative focuses on has these kinds of interesting conflicts within themselves, where they have to figure out if what they want is really all they had hoped that it would be.
Secondly, the setting is really detailed and interesting, with some unexpectedly grey morals and politics. For example, on the one hand, Auraya is obviously a good person and she does seem to genuinely want to help humanity in her position as one of the White. But on the other hand, you get hints and implications that the gods that she worships have ordered quite a bit of dirty work in the past, the impact of which still resonates in the form of the prejudice towards the Dreamweavers, despite their roles as healers. It does bring doubt into what she does for her gods, whether she or the other White truly understand the implications of what they are. Plus there's a lot of mundane politics that is really interesting, where the White have to change up their tactics in order to appeal to different nations and groups of people.
I will say that while the plot is solid more or less throughout, there is a section around the halfway/two-thirds mark where it does seem to slow down as you then have to get through a lot of army management stuff. Not entirely tedious, but a bit of a drag at times I found. Still worth working through though.

Definitely a solid recommendation for fantasy fans. The characters and setting are really fleshed out and detailed, with some fascinating character conflict going on. The plot does slow down a bit during the second half of the novel, but it's not as big a flaw as it could have been. I'd definitely be interested in taking a look at the next installment in the series. 4/5

Next review: Plugged by Eoin Colfer

Signing off,
Nisa.

Beauty by Robin McKinley

If someone were to ask me what my favourite fairy tale was, I would answer "Beauty and the Beast" every single time. As such, whenever I saw Beauty on the shelves at whatever bookshop I happened upon, I found myself seriously tempted. It was quite some time before I finally caved and bought the damn thing, which is surprising considering how weak my willpower can be. After a couple of novels that were less than great, I was really hoping that I could rely on a retelling of my favourite fairy tale to get me back into a positive state of mind.

Beauty grows up finding her nickname more of a burden than anything else. Adopted as a result of a precocious outburst after her father tried to explain the meaning of her birth name, Honour, when she was a small child, it is something of a cruel irony that she instead grows up to be plain at best, especially when compared to her stunning older sisters. She dreams of becoming a scholar while her sisters look to good marriages, but they find that their world is soon to change. A storm ruins their merchant father's fortunes, forcing them to leave for the country and a humble life in a farming village. While in the country, Beauty's father becomes lost in a storm and takes shelter within a mysterious castle with seemingly invisible servants. But after he unwittingly abuses the hospitality offered to him, he must make a deal with the castle's bestial owner: in one month he must return to the castle, where either he or one of his daughters must stay as prisoner.
So, first thing's first, the story. If you've ever seen an adaptation of Beauty and the Beast, whether it be the Disney adaptation or one of the many modern retellings that seem to exist, then you have a pretty good idea of where the plot will be headed at any one time. There's not much in the way of surprises when it comes to Beauty, but honestly, were you really expecting any? If you aren't a fan of the original fairy tale, then Beauty probably won't change your mind. With that out of the way, on to the specifics.
Beauty is narrated by the title character and while I admittedly had a seriously positive expectations of her before I started the novel, I found that they were more than met here. While I have always identified with her book-worm nature, ever since I was a little girl, I was rather intrigued by the way that her bookishness is conveyed here. Normally you'll get bookish characters turning to classic works of fiction purely for the pleasure of reading, and while I don't mind that at all, I was quite pleased to see Beauty view her reading in terms of academic study as much as she does it for the fun of it. It gives her a much more practical and sober tone of narration, which was a far cry from the more whimsical tone I had expected. Additionally, I like that she isn't a beautiful girl like she is in other adaptations. While she tries not to let it bother her, it is a real sore spot for her and it made her feel all the more relatable; I think most women go through at least one point where they look around and don't feel pretty enough, and that feeling is captured almost painfully well through her fights with the servants trying to dress her in pretty clothes.
Oddly enough, I found that I liked the Beast less than I had initially thought I would. To put it simply, he didn't really seem all that bestial, which seems to be missing the point somewhat. When Beast was consistently polite and good-natured towards Beauty, I couldn't help but be disappointed. Because while the romance between him and Beauty does still develop at a nice gradual pace as she learns to look beyond his outer ugliness, it doesn't feel like there's as much character development for the Beast himself, it's all on Beauty's shoulders. Admittedly, it might be because he's quite a bit older than Beauty here, but I've always thought that Beast's sullen and bad-tempered nature is kind of necessary for the stakes to feel real. I've always seen his temper and mood swings as a kind of emotional defence: if she doesn't reciprocate because of his looks, then he can convince himself that he didn't care about her opinion in the first place, and if she's chased away by his personality he can attribute it to physical appearance. It's an issue for him to work through as a character arc. When Beast is always kind, it feels more like a waiting game, something that would happen at some point regardless. It by no means ruins Beauty, but I can't lie and say that I wasn't a little disappointed.
Finally, I feel that I should return to the story, and mention the ending in particular. It's no secret that a lot of fans are disappointed by Beast turning back into a human. After developing so much affection for him as a Beast, the reaction to the spell being broken tends to be, to quote Greta Garbo, "Give me back my Beast!" Beauty is no exception, but I don't think anyone was expecting anything different here. I will mention that the ending seemed a bit brief for my tastes, but it still isn't a bad ending considering the constraints set by the original fairy tale.

A solid, well-written retelling of Beauty and the Beast. For people who love the original tale, I can't see this being poorly received in the slightest. Beauty is a wonderful narrator, with a scholarly and vulnerable character that is really endearing. The Beast was perhaps too tame for my liking, but I feel that this will be a matter of personal preference, so make of that what you will. The ending disappoints with the Beast's curse being lifted, but then everyone was expecting that anyway, so it doesn't really feel like a wholly valid criticism. 4/5

Next review: The Murder at the Vicarage by Agatha Christie

Signing off,
Nisa.

The Twisted Root of Jaarfindor by Sean Wright

I have had this book for quite some time now, having received it as a Christmas present one year from my parents. I remember this part reasonably clearly, since they were rather pleased at having found a signed copy for me. Now, I do remember reading this closer to the time that I got it, but over the years my impression of what actually happened in the plot boiled down to "weirdness", which is unusual considering some of my other interests. So, spurred on by adult curiosity, I returned to The Twisted Root of Jaarfindor to see how it holds up.

The Twisted Root of Jaarfindor follows Lia-Va, an eighteen year old queen who has newly come into power after slaying her own father in combat. The reader starts the novel as she secretly abdicates from the throne that she never truly wanted, disappearing into the night in order to fuel her true passion: her addiction to roots and the parchment that they may help her translate. As her journey looks to be treacherous, she employs a mysterious, mute stranger as her bodyguard, but she soon finds that he has a bigger stake in her journey than she ever imagined he would.
Oh boy, where to begin with this mess. I suppose I should spend some time on perhaps the single good thing about The Twisted Root of Jaarfindor: the concept of roots. Roots are four-inch shards regurgitated by living creatures at the moment of their deaths, each containing the memories of the dead people that they came from. If a person were to stab themselves with these roots, they would experience the memories contained within as vivid hallucinations. As a fantasy drug, it's really quite creative and well explored. Additionally, there is a nice balance between the fantastical hallucinations themselves and the withdrawal symptoms. It's just a pity that the rest of the novel is so atrocious in comparison.
Now, onto the many, many really bad parts of the novel. First, there's the world-building. I imagine that there was a fair bit of detail that went into the planning stages of The Twisted Root of Jaarfindor, but at 150 pages, there isn't room for any of it to be explored. What could have been a fascinating world is made utterly frustrating because the reader is constantly bombarded by the kind of stupidly complex and ugly-sounding fantasy names that most good fantasy books mock relentlessly, accompanied by maybe a sentence or two at most to explain them. For example, the various different races that turn up in the course of the novel became indistinguishable to me, considering that the only descriptions that came up were either evil albino mutants or insect people. There were other race names mentioned, but no other descriptions. There were political undertones that were pretty much mentioned to introduce conflict, but never elaborated on in enough detail for the animosity to feel genuine. There was both fantasy and a kind of post-apocalyptic space technology that could have meshed in new and interesting ways, if the author had only spent more time talking about it beyond "oooh, look, spaceships!" Really, it feels like listening to a little kid tell a story: they cram in whatever they think sounds cool, without much thought to whether it's all well-explored or coherent.
Second are the characters. They probably could have worked with a bit of retooling, but as they were, it was just grasping at straws. Lia-Va was more or less tolerable as a protagonist, as she decides pretty early on that she's going to do her own thing, and screw anyone who tries to make life difficult for her. She's a bitch with some serious emotional issues involving her parents and her native culture, which could be great. As it was, it tends to lead to some kind of childish behaviour as she acts up whenever someone doesn't give her what she wants. She's not as bad as Islan though, who is frustrating in multiple ways. First of all, he's just one of those characters who comes across as unintentionally smug and self-satisfied, because he's just so much more spiritually and morally elevated than you, and I'm only doing these things for the greater good. The fact that he is technically right only makes the second point more frustrating. He knows that the parchment that Lia-Va has is evil, but he decides to be mysterious about why he wants her to break her root addiction, despite her repeated questioning. He only mentions that he thinks that her magic parchment is evil right when they're near the thing that she needs to translate said parchment, a.k.a. the WORST possible moment for breaking that news. Suffice to say, he doesn't have a happy ending and quite honestly the stupid sod had it coming.
Third is the writing itself. It is worryingly incompetent. When you have a 150 page book, you really can't afford to recycle what few descriptions you have, because boy do they stick out like a sore thumb. And when I say recycle, I mean word for word. Not for anything symbolically important either, which is the most puzzling thing of all. The things that come immediately to mind are descriptions of the sky, a flag and a particularly ugly mobster, none of which are actually consequential to the plot in any way, shape or form. If you're echoing a description, usually it's to make some kind of thematic or symbolic resonance within the work as a whole, but this is just laziness pure and simple. Additionally, I have to worry for this publishing house's level of editing when a clanger like "the diverse political shift in political power" manages to get through whole and intact; when that happens, you might want to cut your losses.

Avoid like the plague. The one good aspect of this is the concept of the roots, but that may well be the novelty factor considering that most fantasy novels don't deal with drugs a huge amount. The rest of the novel is an utter mess. There isn't anywhere near enough room for the author to properly explore the world that he's created, so the experience is less coherence and more sheltering from the word-vomit of fantasy terms flung the reader's way. The characters are a bit too simplistic and one in particular is mysterious for absolutely no reason and jeopardises the entire journey in the process. And finally, when the author is too lazy to think up more than one description for the sky, then you know that you're onto a loser. Not worth the paper it's printed on quite honestly. 1/5

Next review: Beauty by Robin McKinley

Signing off,
Nisa.

Bright Young Things by Anna Godbersen

So, here I am, going back to the roaring twenties again. I know, you're probably all sick of it by now, but there's something about the time period that I am inexorably drawn to.

Bright Young Things follows three young women trying to find their way in New York in 1929. There's Letty Larkspur, fresh off the train from Ohio and desperate to leave her old life behind by chasing her dream of being a famous singer. Cordelia Grey, who travelled down from Ohio with Letty, is looking for her long-lost bootlegger father and finds herself falling for the one boy he wants her to stay away from. And finally, there's Astrid Donal, a young flapper trying to navigate high society and her complicated feelings for her boyfriend, Charlie Grey.
After Das Boot, I needed something lighter and this may have been just about the perfect choice. Bright Young Things encapsulates just about everything that I want when I pick up a novel about 1920s America. There's a nice balance between the hard graft and sleaziness of your average working girl, and the backstabbing glamour of the upper classes. The emphasis on the bootlegging is a nice touch, as the presence of alcohol despite Prohibition is generally glossed over in novels that I've picked up previously. I also like that not all of the main girls want to be famous in some capacity. It's frustrating, I want to be more specific, but I like the book too much for my thoughts to coalesce right. I'm just really glad that I picked up Bright Young Things and I would be more than happy to pick up the next installment of the series.

Pretty much a perfect 1920s novel, with a nice blend of rich and poor, criminal and legitimate elements. Definitely one to pick up if you're interested in this period of history. 5/5

Next review: Aberystwyth Mon Amour by Malcolm Pryce

Signing off,
Nisa.

Nation by Terry Pratchett

Nation was another book that had been languishing on my shelves for more years than is good for a book. I know the exact length of time I've had it to, since there's a nice little inscription on the bookplate wishing me a happy 17th birthday. I'm 24. I really could've gotten to this one quicker. Also managed to really confuse my fiance, who was stunned that my next read from Terry Pratchett wouldn't be a Discworld novel.

Nation follows two children who must overcome tremendous challenges in the wake of a tsunami that hits a small group of islands in the South Pelagic Ocean. There is Mau, an aboriginal boy who was in the middle of his rite of adulthood when the tsunami washed away his village, leaving him with a lot of unanswered, or unanswerable, questions and possibly without a soul. He soon discovers Ermintrude, a British girl who is determined that Standards will be upheld, even if that means serving scones that taste like rotting lobster. Together they must try and rebuild what is left of a proud nation.
I wasn't sure what this was going to be like since my fiance, an ardent Terry Pratchett fan, had confessed that he was never particularly fond of this one. Might not have even finished it, now that I think about it. Having finished it though, I would say that this is definitely worth your time. Admittedly, it does have a bit of a slow start largely brought about by the two main leads' language and cultural differences, but if you stick with it, I think it has a lot to offer. While it may not have as much of the sharp satirical edge or outright ridiculous comedy that Pratchett's work is known for, it does have some really interesting themes that it delves into. There's the constant questioning of humanity's place in the universe (especially in a religious context), with questions like "Why did unintelligent creatures like birds know how to escape the wave, but not us?" used as a starting point. Linked to this is an examination of traditions and how the strict adherence to them can be more harmful than helpful; it's a trait seen both in the aboriginal and colonial British characters to begin with, as both societies are so rigidly drawn, especially in terms of gender roles, that the individual parts played are soon revealed as useless without the rest of society to work around them. It's a surprisingly thoughtful novel, once you get past the necessary awkwardness that culture clash brings about. There's a large part of me that would actually argue that Nation is one of those books that should be part of a child's basic literary education, because it perfectly encapsulates an exploration of acceptance and constant questioning ourselves and our world. And really, that's one of the most important things that you could instill in someone.

A bit of a slow start, but more than worth the effort for the thoughtful themes that it examines. A must-read book for children of all ages. 4/5

Next review: Catch Me When I Fall by Nicci French

Signing off,
Nisa.