Till We Have Faces

There are some things that are better with age- with experience and maturity. It's why my parents wouldn't let me see some movies until I was older. It's why you don't do algebra until your freshman year of high school. And it's why you don't read some novels until you're older. It's not always a problem of mature content; in some cases, it's that you just don't have the capacity to understand the themes fully, for whatever reason.

I started to read C.S. Lewis's Till We Have Faces when I was in 5th or 6th grade. My dad told me it was his favorite book, so I put forth my very best effort... but I just couldn't get into it. So I abandoned it for more interesting books.

After seeing the Chronicles of Narnia recently, I was stunned at C.S. Lewis's brilliance in spiritual themes, and wanted to read more of his work. So, I picked up Till We Have Faces. And this time, I was hooked.

It's not that Till We Have Faces has a message that's told graphically, or intensely, or with frightening images. It's not that it's inappropriate for a young mind to be thinking of. It's just that when I read it in 5th or 6th grade, I didn't have the mental maturity to process what was going on in the book and apply it to my life. I didn't have the experiences which made this book relevant to me. I didn't have the same search for theological themes that I do now. There are many other books that I read this way: starting them when I was younger and tossing them aside, then loving them when I'm older. It's proof that we are constantly growing in our experiences and the depth of our thought process, and a milestone to look forward to as we grow. I've come to realize that our own personal experiences can help us to understand or can shape our understanding of a book, a song, a speech, a poem. But these experiences are different for everyone, which makes some of our "takeaways" different. That's why we read book reviews: because someone else who read the same book was touched in a different way, or their own experience brought to light a different aspect of the book.

All that to say, that's probably a digression from the book review, but certainly one I found important and interesting as I read this book.

So. Till We Have Faces. It's the re-telling of the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche, which I had never heard before. Two princesses, ugly Orual and beautiful Psyche, live in the kingdom of Glome under a tyrannical father-king. Near Greece, the princesses have a Greek slave for a tutor, called the Fox. Though the Fox scorns the idea of the gods, Glome is a devout kingdom that worships the god Ungit. In order to please Ungit, it is ordered that Psyche, the beautiful one, be sacrificed. This begins Orual's resentment against the gods, which continues to build destructively throughout Orual's life, chronicled in her diary as a testimony against the gods and their cruelty.

Orual is the central character, and everything is told narrowly through her eyes. She loves those around her fiercely and selfishly, she doesn't love herself, but hides her hideous face behind a veil. When she becomes Queen, she brings prosperity to the land, with the Fox and Bardia, a loyal captain of the guard, at her side. She lives a long life, always hating the gods. Everyone around her is fiercely loyal to her and loves her, and she uses this to her advantage, all the while excusing it as their love for her, unable to face the truth. She is convinced she's doing what is right for them.

It never ceases to amaze me how well C.S. Lewis understood humanity. He portrays Orual in a sympathetic light, and her justification of her actions towards others ring so true of humanity. I have absolutely dealt with a friend as Orual does with Psyche, giving them advice "for their own good", but really selfishly having my own reasons for doing it. Orual's character is defined by selfishness and self-pity for her ugliness, which is ultimately a metaphor for her inner self. What's particularly brilliant about C.S. Lewis's writing is how natural Orual's excuses seem, and later, how clear it is how selfish she is. Honestly, when I was younger and the only thing I had read by C.S. Lewis was Narnia, I thought he wasn't the best writer. Sure, he was a good storyteller, but he was very much a minimalist writer. It wasn't until I read Till We Have Facesthat I changed my mind. His writing style in this is beautiful, completely different from Narnia. In Narnia, he is telling a children's story in the simplest terms, but in this, he's constructing a complex psychological story, and he does it very well. Gone are the minimalist phrases, and in their places are beautiful, precise sentences. I know exactly what C.S. Lewis wanted to say with this book.

SPOILERS FOLLOW

I have to discuss the ending of the book because it's what makes the book brilliant. The majority of the book is Orual's tale of her life. But the final section of the book is a changed Orual writing of how her eyes have been opened. She realizes that she destroyed everyone she loved: her love for Psyche is more a hatred and jealousy of possession than a love; Bardia, the man she was in love with, was overworked, tired, only cranky with his wife, and the Fox never returned to his homeland, Greece, though he longed for it, out of deference to Orual's wishes. She is taken through a complex set of visions, and realizes, Who is she to question the gods, when she has so little knowledge of the bigger picture? How can we really speak face to face with the gods till we have faces?

What a beautiful reminder of how small we humans are, and how big we think we are. Orual puts the gods in a box; she criticizes them and whines about them, denounces their schemes as being only for the destruction of her happiness, when she is part of a plan so much bigger than she is. Understanding that our lives are not the center of God's plan, but rather a thread in the tapestry, gives us a peace and forces us to trust that God is using us in ways we may not imagine.

Even after all of this, I still feel like I'll read this in ten years and get even more out of it. But this reading taught me so much that right now I can hardly imagine what I'll discover next time. What a spectacular book. It only proved to me more the sheer genius that C.S.Lewis was.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Note: This is a movie review... but I thought it was relevant and important! You may be seeing a few more movie reviews on my blog later :)

I've been looking forward to The Voyage of the Dawn Treader for months now, so of course, the instant school was out on opening Friday, my family all went to see it together. I went again with a good friend of mine the following weekend. I loved it. Voyage of the Dawn Treader is the book I remember most of the series when my dad read them aloud to me, partly because of Eustace and how funny he was, partly because of how silly the Dufflepuds were, and partly because of how magical the book felt.

I loved the movie and it’s portrayal of my favorite characters; Iloved Eustace. Will Poulter was delightfully obnoxious, and his performance in the ending scene was perfect- in character, but also evidence of how much Eustace has changed. The Eustace-Reepicheep relationship was actually one of my favorite parts of the movie- it was so sweet, well developed, and expanding on a theme introduced in the books. And Reepicheep! He's always been my hands down favorite Narnian. I thought his portrayal was perfect. His voice change wasn’t noticeable, but certainly his new voice fits him perfectly. The animators did an excellent job with his mannerisms, his swordfighting… actually, all the CGI creatures are so well animated that the animation never once took away from the story. I didn't even think about how well done they were, or the fact that they were animated- I just assumed they were real, which is a very rare thing for me to do, and to me is the mark of good animation. It allowed me to actually feel as though my favorite characters existed.

And the Dawn Treader herself! She blew me away. I loved the shots of her sailing- she looked just like I imagined she would. I was so impressed that every shot that was supposed to be on the ship was actually on the ship. Incredible shots of the Dawn Treader sailing on open seas are breathtaking.

Most importantly, I came away so impressed with how well the spiritual themes translated on screen this time. I've read Voyage of the Dawn Treader for years, over and over, but the movie illuminated new spiritual themes that I had never picked up on in the books- perhaps because I read the books with a child's mind, and now have a more mature mind. I loved the introduction of Lucy and her struggle with outward beauty into a central theme of the story. Not only did it give us as an audience a chance to see Susan again, though she isn't actually in the story, but it was such an accurate picture of what girls her age go through. Aslan's words to her, what he shows her when she attempts to change things, sent tears running down my cheeks, imagining that God was saying that to me. It was subtly woven but well incorporated and developed. (Also, I thought it was so cool how much Susan Popplewell and Georgie Henley actually look alike!)

I cried at the beauty of the last scene, where Edmund and Lucy and Eustace know they have to leave Narnia, Edmund and Lucy for the last time. I cried when Reepicheep, brave little Reepicheep, took up his coracle and paddled into Aslan's Country. The entire last scene seemed as though it had leapt from my imagination onto the screen: the Sea of Lilies, the glimpses of Aslan's Country beyond the waves, Reepicheep's leaving. Lucy's tears when Aslan tells her she cannot come back to Narnia are so real. It speaks so powerfully of C.S. Lewis' brilliant writing that this scene is such a beautiful metaphor for what our own meeting in "Aslan's Country" will be like. I am so thankful that you were so adamant about the goodbye scene being exactly as it was in the book, because it played so beautifully on screen and was such a great visual. Actually, tears still come to my eyes when I think about it. The very last scene as they come home from Narnia was absolutely perfect- the silence of the actors, the draining of the waters, the looks exchanged between Eustace, Edmund, and Lucy. It was a moment to think back on what adventures they'd had, and what adventures were yet to come. I have a good Jewish friend who has never read the books, is unfamiliar with the story of Narnia, and didn't see Prince Caspian. She called me the other day to let me know she had seen Voyage of the Dawn Treader and loved it. She said, "I cried in the last scene in Narnia. It was perfect! And so sad. It makes me want to read the books." And really, isn't that part of the purpose of the movies? To make people read C.S. Lewis' brilliant books, or understand more of his writing?

Overall, I enjoyed the movie very much, both as a stand-alone movie and as an interpretation of the book. I was disappointed in the undragoning scene, but the movie was faithful enough to the book that all of my favorite elements were included (the Dufflepuds, for instance) but bent enough to offer something new to the viewer, like the temptations of Lucy, Edmund, and Caspian.

Anna and the French Kiss

Let me start by saying that I do NOT normally read cutesy "chick-lit" books that are written for teenage girls (especially all the new vampire books). I read Sarah Dessen novels, and that's about where I draw the line... I just don't care to read a sexually charged, poorly written book designed only to please the romantic tendencies of a teenage girl. But when my friend handed me this book, Anna and the French Kiss, with the recommendation of John Green and herself, I figured I'd give it a try. After all, John Green had said he couldn't put it down, and he didn't seem like the type to recommend bad fiction. So, before I went to bed, I read the first couple of pages. And then more. And then more. I couldn't put it down!

I stayed up way too late to read this book (11:30, on a school night? Unheard of!), captivated by it's characters and the romance. It's about Anna Oliphant, from Atlanta, who's father decides to send her to Paris for a year (her senior year, no less!) to study and get a taste of other cultures. Though digging in her heels at first, the transition is quickly eased by the presence of a very cute boy, Etienne St. Clair, a French-British-American. So yes, he has a British accent (!)... and a girlfriend. As Anna steps outside of her comfort zone and into a new culture, she also gets to know St. Clair very well.

The core and majority of the story is a romance, but it's also a narrative of friendships: of the thin line between friends and more-than-friends, of loyalty and honesty, of betrayal and forgiveness. And it is this added dimension that gives the novel depth and moves it from typical teenage girl fodder to an entertaining, slightly instructive novel appropriate for all ages.

One of the great strengths of the novel are the characters. Anna Oliphant, the protagonist, is a neat-freak, left handed, who loves movies and runs a blog with movie reviews (sound like me? Except maybe the neat-freak part). Unlike many romance novels, where the girl falling in love is frustratingly annoying (cough cough Bella Swan), I actually ended the novel still liking Anna. She's not a hopeless, lovesick girl, but a logical and realistic one, who thinks, "If I can't date this guy, I'll just be a friend to him... no use moping around after him." Thank goodness for that!

Etienne St. Clair, the male lead, is better than Edward Cullen. Who is supposedly perfect. While St. Clair (as his friends call him) is far from perfect, his character is so loveable and realistic that I couldn't help falling in love with him along with Anna. His jokes and teasing, his kindness to his friends, his devotion to his mother, and of course, his British accent all are loveable attributes. I give huge kudos to Stephanie Perkins for giving him actual flaws and actual problems that are easy to see. He's not the perfect guy who comes along, sweeps a girl off her feet, and they live happily ever after. Both Anna and Etienne have problems, and they build a real friendship supporting each other through those problems. Perkins does an excellent job of developing this relationship without boring us with unnecessary exchanges. Their relationship is real, not forced, because we actually believe that they know each other very well.

Anna and Etienne's friends are Meredith, who's in love with St. Clair, and Rashmi and Josh, who are dating. Etienne's girlfriend, Ellie, used to be in their group as well, but she graduated the previous year. Each one of these supporting characters, with maybe the exception of Ellie, is developed so well, even though they aren't the focus of the story. They're all incredibly believable and real, not just plot devices to support Anna and Etienne. The five together, Anna, Etienne, Rashmi, Josh, and Meredith, counsel each other, go through betrayals, fight, forgive each other, and encourage each other. I loved every one of them, and their interactions added so much to the story.

One thing I didn't like: by the end of the book, Anna's misunderstanding seemed unbelievable, and her confusion stupid. The very last fight seems a bit stretched... but maybe because I was just really eager to see them get together!

Yet another thing I loved about this book: they're all believably real teenagers, but Perkins doesn't use excessive language or drug use or crazy partying all the time or sleazy hookups to emphasize this point. If or when these things are used, it's necessary to the plot- and not glamorized at all. This is such a rare quality in a teen book! It feels unexaggerated and simple, so refreshing. And the writing! So well written: the chemistry between Anna and Etienne is unbelievable: I was so wrapped up in the urge for them to finally get together! They compliment each other perfectly. Also, the general narrative is subtle but well written; Perkins has a clear control of language. It's so rare to find a book such as this one in the teen world. It's wholly entertaining, engrossing, adorable, squeal-able, just like watching a chick flick- but with added depth. I. LOVED. IT. Go read it if you're looking for a sweet, fun, light read. You won't be disappointed!

The Shadow of the Wind

Empty. A wind blowing at nothing, unseen. That's exactly how Shadow of the Wind is. It takes no stand on anything. it vacillates back and forth between beautifully written and crude. Ever shifting, ever changing. not quite certain of itself. it's a coming of age novel and a mystery and a romance. It's such a waste, and similar to what I wrote about in Girl with a Pearl Earring. How empty Shadow of the Wind felt! Without any purpose to the story, without telling any truth about the human condition.

It begins promisingly enough: set in Spain after World War II, it follows a young boy, Daniel, who finds a book, The Shadow of the Wind, by Julian Carax, reads it, and loves it. But when he tries and fails to find more books by the same author, he learns that a mysterious figure hunts them down and methodically destroys any copies of his books. Almost nothing is known about Carax. Intrigued, he begins to piece together the mysterious life of Julian Carax, a story which parallels Daniel's own coming of age.

The book is sprinkled with a colorful cast of characters, every single one of whom is fully shaded. A dash of romance, a lot of danger, a creepy old house and a twist ending: it's a recipe for a Gothic romance. And Gothic it certainly is. There is no beacon of light, no redemption or even real love in the entire story. The devil figure of the book is utterly hateful, cruel, psychopathic, and given no chance for redemption. Additional characters act selfishly, wholly for their own interests, which makes the entire book a downwards spiral. True, the mystery of Julian Carax's life certainly captured my attention throughout the book, and I read on until his full life had unfolded. Unfortunately, it was nearly all predictable, and the parts which weren't predictable, while certainly original, were nothing better than interesting. They showed no piercing insight into human nature, but simply paralleled that of other books.

It parallels Leif Enger and Thornton Wilder in its beauty of prose: their books (reviewed here in this blog!) are some of my absolute favorites. But unlike Enger or Wilder, the words are empty, beautiful phrases and sentences and turns of phrase shaping nothing but thin air. Truth breathes life into the words of Enger and Wilder to make it truly beautiful. Not so in Shadow of the Wind. It has many ingredients of a good story: beautiful writing, an interesting idea, strong characters. But the author did so little with his materials.

It's something that struck me: as Christians, we can live with eternity in mind, with a goal and a purpose and, as my small group leader says, a dignity to our everyday lives. We live for Christ, our purpose is to worship him, to be "little Christs" in the world, and to demonstrate his love to others. If everything in our life is aligned to that purpose, our life is infinitely more meaningful. Without this purpose, we too would be a shadow of a wind, passing through life with no lasting effect. As a writer, I want my writing to speak of Christ in every word, to "tell the truth about the human condition," to exemplify the best traits of God. As a writer, this book showed me how not to write.

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.

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!

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.