Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Middlemarch


For about a week before my Israel trip this summer, I looked through all my books and tried to sort out the ones I wanted to read. I had a stack of lighter reading and a stack of classics my dad gave me for Christmas. I had tried to read Vanity Fair with little success, read Portrait of a Lady (reviewed in this blog) and wasn't particularly keen on starting a new classic, which would take me months to read. But Middlemarch, by George Eliot, didn't look so bad, and I knew I wanted to expand my classics vocabulary. So I put Middlemarch in my "to read" pile, and resolved to bring it to the beach with me.
While in Israel, Middlemarch came up in casual conversation on the trip. I told myself, again, that I had to read it at the beach. In Jerusalem one night, we had dinner with a lovely family, and one of the guests, in hearing that Jane Austen was my favorite author, remarked that I should read Middlemarch, by George Eliot. "It's on my list!" I said, surprised that this same book would come up again. I returned from Israel with a new zeal to read it. It took me two months, but I finally finished it recently, and was surprised at how much I loved it!
Those who know me well know that I love Jane Austen. I've read all of her books, and love her wit and humor, along with her hysterical characters and compelling love stories. I've also seen the movies: Pride and Prejudice (both the BBC and Kiera Knightley versions), Sense and Sensibility, Mansfield Park, Emma. I love them all. I've read biographies of her, and one of my favorite movies (though it's inaccurate) is Becoming Jane. Middlemarch was recommended to me because it was similar to Jane Austen's books.
Middlemarch is written around the same time as Jane Austen's novels, but it delves into the characters lives much more extensively than Austen novels. The novel is about a town, Middlemarch, and it's inhabitants. The book opens with Dorothea Brooke, a pious, Mother Theresa-like figure, very quickly becoming engaged to Mr. Casaubon, an elderly gentleman and renowned scholar. The gap in their ages is almost comical, and several people, Dorothea's family included, object to her choice. But Dorothea has dreams of helping Mr. Casaubon in his research, and so marries him quickly. She soon realizes what a mistake she has made as Mr. Casaubon is distant and careless with her, and finds a friend in Will, Mr. Casaubon's cousin.
Rosamond Vincy is the town darling, beautiful, serene, and sensible. Her brother, Fred Vincy, is almost the opposite: he's a dandy, can't settle on a profession, and is hopelessly in love with Mary Garth, his childhood best friend. When Tertius Lydgate, an idealistic doctor with dreams of scholarly discovery and honor, comes to town, Rosamond falls in love with him. The brother and sister pair each go through their own trials of love.
All of these complicated plots are woven against the background of a busy town and many, many minor characters, all fully imagined. What was fascinating to me about Middlemarch was its span: some couples don't become engaged until the end of the book (some 800 pages) due to various plot twists, while others marry quickly. Middlemarch deals not only with courting, but with what happens after marriage, as well. Lydgate encounters debt problems, and the struggle which he and Rosamond go through is how many couples today would act. It's such a cool continuity, that debt strained a marriage in the 1800s just as it can strain a marriage today. It makes the entire novel more realistic and relatable, and fully fleshes out Rosamond and Lydgate. Their flaws are showcased under financial pressure in a very honest way. Their conflict is what takes the novel beyond a simple romance. In fact, it could be the sequel to any romantic comedy movie.
That's not to say all the romances in this novel fail. Will and Dorothea's sweet, blossoming relationship is what spurred me to read to the end. Their journey is filled with great twists and turns of plot, and brings the whole book to a satisfying, believable conclusion. Their talent for great romances are where George Eliot and Jane Austen are similar.
As is true of so many of the 19th century novels, the elegant prose and wise musings of the author beautifully complemented the story. In the hands of another author, the same story could have been vulgar or boring, but the plot and prose worked together so well under George Eliot's intricate sentences. It's one of the reasons I love the classics: nowadays, novels (especially those for teens) have fast-paced plots with bare minimum sentences. It's as though authors have a toolbox full of state-of-the-art tools in front of them, but only use a simple hand screwdriver to tell the story. Eliot, and many other writers in her time, chose their words with great purpose, and wrote their message clearly. It's something that I, as an aspiring writer, try to learn from as I read Middlemarch.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

The Lost Hero


Rick Riordan's new promise- two books a year!- had me skeptical about the quality of The Lost Hero. I mean, how much attention can you devote to a novel when you're writing 576 pages in so short a time, juggling two series', no less? In particular, after the plunge in quality of The Red Pyramid, Riordan's first book in the new series The Kane Chronicles, I thought he'd peaked with the conclusion of the Percy Jackson series. Not to mention that The Lost Hero is the first of a spinoff series of Percy Jackson, and really, how good could a spinoff be? Percy Jackson ended well, all were happy, the conflicts were all resolved- what more could Riordan write about?
Well, actually, a lot. And, surprisingly, he could write it very well. The Lost Hero brings back all the fun and cleverness of Percy Jackson, with fun new characters and whole realms of information about the Greek gods and goddesses to dive into. Three new demigods are introduced: Jason, Piper, and Leo, all older teens, enrolled in a school for delinquent kids. But there's one catch: as the story opens, Jason awakens on the bus to the Grand Canyon, holding hands with Piper, listening to Leo: with no idea who they are, where they are, or even who he is. As the book goes on, and they find out the obvious- they're demigods!- yet another conundrum is introduced, one which hooks readers of the Percy Jackson series immediately: Percy Jackson is missing.
The plot follows the typical arc of Percy Jackson: the heroes go to Camp Half-Blood, receive a quest, and set out on it to appease the gods for some reason or another. This time, the reason is to fulfill the mysterious Great Prophecy that has been made about them, to stop the stirrings of a new and dangerous enemy, and discover the reason why the gods of Olympus have gone silent. Along the way, they encounter minor gods and characters from Greek mythology in adventurous escapades.
The opening is brilliant, hooking readers from the very beginning, intrigued by Jason's memory loss. And if that didn't hook the readers, the appearance of Annabeth her announcement of Percy's disappearance certainly does. The three new demigods make a good team; they're funny and complement each other well. And as an older reader, it makes me feel less geeky and childish to read these books if the characters are around my age, as they are (finally) in this book. The backwards romance between Jason and Piper (due to his memory loss) is cute, just present enough to satisfy girl readers without totally isolating the pre-teen boy audience. Though sometimes juggling three main characters is tough, Riordan seems to have no problem with it, alternating chapters from each's perspective, and creating very real characters. Not only are they ethnically diverse (Piper's half Native American, Leo's Latino), but Riordan also excels at making strong female characters: first Annabeth, now Piper. They're very different, but each can stand up for herself.
Familiar characters also abound in this one at Camp Half-Blood, though some are sadly lacking, such as Clarisse, the harsh and crazy daughter of Ares, and Grover, Percy's best friend the satyr. But old characters are brought back to play a more prominent position in the story, giving the world of Percy Jackson a fleshed-out feel.
Riordan said he decided to focus on minor gods and goddesses more in this series, and that's evident in the characters the three demigods meet on their quest. Even I, who know a lot about Greek gods and goddesses, hadn't heard of most of the gods he met. They were well-sketched, interesting, funny. Riordan manages to pack so much information about them just by their surroundings and personality that I feel I could almost base a school report off the book. I hardly feel like I'm being taught anything due to his clever presentation of the information.
Riordan took it even farther in this book by beginning to deal with the Roman gods as well, and the simultaneous existence of the two. I loved this part of the book, since the idea of Roman gods always bothered me while reading the original Percy Jackson series. My only complaint was that after a while, the constant pit-stops to meet a new minor god got old. I just wanted to find out the answers to all my questions: Where's Percy? Why can't Jason remember anything? Who are they fighting against? Why are the gods silent?
Most of these questions aren't answered until the very end. In this way, Lost Hero is dissimilar to Percy Jackson, reading more like a mystery than an adventure. Riordan drops several clues along the way, so that I had my suspicions about the mystery of Jason and the identity of the new enemy due to a history project I did two years ago... but I didn't fully get it, or guess where Percy was, until the very last sentence of the book. And what a brilliant ending it was! The whole plot worked so well, tied together so flawlessly, in such an intriguing way... I could say so much more about it, but obviously it would spoil the entire book. Suffice it to say that I'm very excited for the rest of the series!
My friend and I figured it out- we'll be in college by the time this series will end, at the rate of one book per year. We have no doubt we'll still be reading them then, too, even if the other kids make fun of us. Actually, I have no doubt that I'll still be reading many children's books and young adult books far into my college years. Immature as Riordan's humor can be, it's clean and truly funny. Though without flowery words, he creates vivid images. And young as his characters are, they're relatable and funny. All in all, one of Riordan's best, highly recommended, an excellent piece of good, clean fun!

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Poison Study


From time to time, I will pop into my freshman English teacher's room during break or after school to say hi, discuss the school year, my current English class and what I think of it. Usually, the talk turns to the book we're currently reading and why we love it, which leads to book recommendations and exclamations of excitement. We both devoured The Hunger Games Trilogy: she would find me to scream and exalt over the latest twist she'd come to in the plot. On the first day of school, fresh from finishing Mockingjay, I made a beeline for her room to thoroughly discuss our reactions to the book (to read those, look down one post!). In our chat, she mentioned another book I would enjoy: Poison Study, by Maria Snyder.
I bought it a few weeks later, and started it with excitement. I wasn't disappointed. From the first page, I couldn't put the book down. I brought it to school with me and read it under my desk, sneaking pages after quizzes or when I finished something early. The premise captivated me before opening the book, and after diving in, the characters kept me fascinated, along with a fast paced plot. The premise is this: Yelena is a twenty year old girl living in a military-ruled land called Ixia. Yelena killed Reyad son of the General of her district, and is facing death when the former food taster to the Commander dies. Law states Yelena must be offered the job as an alternative to dying. She takes it, but finds herself caught up in court intrigue as well as political problems beyond what she imagined.
One of my favorite things in fantasy books that I feel can "make or break it" is a strong female character (for instance, Megan Whalen Turner's The Thief series, or The Hunger Games). Yelena is one such character. It's always refreshing to see a female who isn't helpless and in distress, and Yelena certainly takes things into her own hands throughout the book, right from the beginning. The reader is always aware that she killed Reyad, the son of the General who commanded her district, for reasons which become clear throughout the book. The guilt and other scars from his death haunt her throughout the book as we see her dealing with her self-hatred and emotional upheaval. It adds a rich layer and depth to her character that makes the story thrilling on a psychological and physical level. Yelena's clever and likeable; she thinks on her feet, is brave, and not afraid to try something new . Her subtle romance with another character is also excellently written, sneaking up on the reader as a pleasant surprise. Unlike so many young adult fiction books, the romance isn't the center of the book, nor is it hitting the reader over the head with clues leading up to their ultimate relationship; what a relief!
Though the writing isn't ornamental, or simply worth reading because of the crafted words, it doesn't hinder the story. I can think of one series of books in particular that I have read in which the plot was fascinating, but I couldn't even finish them because the writing was so terrible. Poison Study isn't remarkable in either direction.
Something that intrigued me, though not really explored in the book, is the idea of why Yelena murders Reyad. Yelena has been submitted to oppression and other darker and more awful consequences at the hands of Reyad, and so she murders him. In the book, Yelena justifies killing Reyad, because of what he's done to her. It's not discussed any further after that, though I wish it had been. True, Yelena is scarred forever by Reyad's actions, and he was awful to her. Yelena feels killing him was her only escape. It's an interesting dilemma to imagine yourself in.
Similar to The Hunger Games, Poison Study has some indefinable quality that makes it "unputdownable." The characters remain in your head, alive and interacting with each other, after you close the book. At school, putting the book down to quickly listen to a teacher was like being jerked out of one world into another, and I lingered in the world of Poison Study through out the school day, not quite focused in my own world. Unfortunately, unlike The Hunger Games, the sequel to Poison Study, Magic Study, is just okay. Gone is that extraordinary quality; the plot is too long and complicated, the romance becomes unrealistic, and somehow, interest is just lost. At the conclusion of Magic Study, I wasn't even interested in the next book. That being said, Poison Study is still so worth reading as a stand alone novel.