The Dragon’s Son

I picked this one up to round out Becky’s King Arthur Challenge, mostly because I felt bad that I didn’t finish the John Steinbeck book. I found it through a random search of the library’s catalog; I knew I wanted a young adult or middle grade book, but that was all. After a bit of looking, this one popped out at me. Sarah Thomson takes a new and interesting approach to the legend: not only does she go back to the earliest Welsh stories of Arthur, she tells the story from the point of view of the lesser-represented characters (Nimue, Morgan, Luned and Medraud/Mordred) rather than from the usual perspectives.

Essentially a collection of four short stories (everyone gets a few chapters to tell their tale), I was impressed not only with the stories themselves, but with the way they were used to propel the entire myth forward. Thomson manages to tell the entire Arthur story — from conception to death — in 181 pages, and while it wasn’t as in-depth as it could have been, I don’t feel like I missed anything.

The book begins with Nimue, and tells her story from her meeting Myrddin through their relationship to his death. It covers a huge amount of time, but her primary role is to tell about the conception and birth of Arthur. Morgan comes next, but her fundamental character has been changed: she’s not a witch or even a Lady of Avalon. Instead, she’s a bitter, slighted sister of Arthur. She saw her father’s murder by Uther, and she was never able to forgive Myrddin for that. So, when she married Arthur (interesting twist, I thought) and he took her to the castle, she left him because he wasn’t willing to get rid of Myrddin. The story then switches to Luned, who is the handmaid to Elen, Morgan’s sister. This one I found the most fascinating. It involves Lancelot, called Owain here, and how he came to marry Elen/Elaine. Thomson made Elen terrified of men, mostly because she was married off at 12 to a brute of a man. Luned is Elen’s voice, her strength, her solace. It’s only after Luned brokers a marriage to Owain for Elen’s saftey (after her former husband’s death), that Elen learns to love. Unfortunately, Owain’s heart belongs to another, and Elen pines away in a monestary. It moves the story forward, though, because Elen is given Gwydre, who is Arthur’s heir (another interesting twist; Morgan had twins) to raise. The last story is Medraud/Mordred. His is the most tragic, the most bitter. Growing up as the son of Morgan, he is not only influcenced by her mother’s wanton ridding of sons (she gives up Gwydre to Arthur without any complaints), but by Arthur’s neglect. He resolves to kill Arthur, not just because his mother is bitter and wants revenge, but also because Arthur is unwilling to recognize Medraud as his rightful heir. He wages a war of words, rumors against his own brother, and eventually after a confrontation with Arthur, leaves and comes back with an army. And we all know how that turns out.

I liked the changes to the traditional story that Thomson made– the basics were the same, but details were different. I found that interesting and, yes, refreshing. It was nice not to read the same story hashed out. Seeing the story from the minor characters point of view also made it more intersting. A lot of the other elements we usually associate with Arthur were done away with, too: magic, aside from Myrddin’s few prophecies, was essentially non-existant. As were most elements of Druid worship (there were some references to “old ways” but that was it).

I always feel good when I manage to find a book on my own that I like. So, I’m feeling pretty good today, because I liked this one. A lot.

2008 Challenge #6 and #7: Herding Cats, RIP III

Killed two birds wtih one Frankenstein, finishing up Renay’s Herding Cats challenge, as well as Carl’s RIP III . I like it when I can do that.

For Herding Cats, I read:
1. American Born Chinese, from Dewey’s list
2. The Thief, from Mem’s list
3. Frankenstein, from Becky’s list

I think I liked The Thief best out of those three, but all three were worth reading and quite enjoyable.

For RIP III, I read:

1. Dracula, Braham Stoker
2. Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
3. Coraline, Neil Gaiman

Hands down, I liked Dracula best. I’m so glad I had an incentive to read it.

Thanks Carl and Renay for awesome challenges!

Frankenstein

I think the thing that struck me most about Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein was how un-horror-inducing it was. I didn’t find it to be a horror novel; sure Victor Frankenstein did a horrific thing (more on that later), but the novel itself wasn’t much of a horror book. In the edition I read, Walter James Miller pointed out that it’s actually more a work of science fiction than gothic or horror, and I’d have to agree. It’s a treatise on many things, the primary one being what happens when a scientist tries to become God.

Other observations:

Frankenstein, the scientist, is not a very sympathetic character. He creates this monster, mostly because he can, figuring the creation will bless his name. Instead, when the creature is made alive, Frankenstein freaks out, and bolts, leaving the creature to fend for himself. From this moment, I realized that the narrative was tainted; how could I respect or like or believe Frankenstein when he so casually creates life and then abandons it. Perhaps that’s the mother in me talking.

Along the same lines, I actually liked the monster better, or perhaps I should say that I felt more pity for the monster than for Frankenstein. I’m not sure whom Shelley wanted us to sympathize with, but I was entirely on the monster’s side. Frankenstein behaved abominably, and all the monster wanted was a companion. How could Frankenstein, having gone so far, deny the monster that thing?

There is an interesting discussion of nature versus nurture in the novel. The monster, by his own account, is actually a sensible, feeling, kind being. It’s the fact that he’s universally abhorred that makes him turn to violence and revenge against Frankenstein. It’s all in the nurture of the monster, or lack thereof, that calamity is brought upon Frankenstein and his friends. I’m not sure I agree, entirely, with that reasoning, but it made sense in the framework of the story.

The story itself was long-winded and plodding. I have to admit I skimmed sections, reading only enough to get the gist of the story. In the intro (which I liked, can you tell?), Miller blames Percy Shelley for that — he “edited” Mary’s language to make it more “literary”. I probably would have preferred something more straightforward.

This book has made me think, though. I’d love the opportunity to hash it out in a classroom or good book group setting; there are a lot of topics and thoughts for discussion in the 198 pages that Shelley wrote out. And for that, it’s well worth reading.

Coraline

I think I did this one wrong. I could see, as I was reading it, what captivated many people. I could see, how if I had read it the right way, I could have been, if not scared, then delightfully weirded out.

However, I read the graphic novel first.

My bad.

(Ooh. I can’t believe I just wrote that.)

See, I knew the plot — I knew what Coraline was going to experience on the other side of the door and how she was going to get out of it. I knew all the weirdness and the suspense, and so I think on some level I missed out on the experience that should have been Coraline the novel.

I have to admit that the graphic novel did an excellent job of adapting Gaiman’s work. It caught the spirit of the book, and surprisingly, didn’t leave any detail out. I knew what was going to happen — there were really no surprises — because I had seen it all before. On the other hand, the novel was wonderfuly descriptive (hence the really good graphic novel adaptation), and had an interesting feeling of foreboding and adventure all rolled up into one.

Still. I think I might have expected too much from the book; I know if I had read this one first, I would have enjoyed it that much more.

Lesson learned. If there’s a graphic novel adaptation of a novel, read the book first.

Sense and Sensiblity

I read this once, about 6 years ago. It was the very last of an Austen kick, where I read all of her works back-to-back over the course of a month. Needless to say, by the time I got to Sense and Sensibility, all the books were sounding alike, and the 561 pages of this book were just daunting. I decided I liked Emma Thompson’s adaptation better, and haven’t bothered re-reading this one since.

That said, I thoroughly enjoyed reading it this time around. While the story of Elinor and Marianne and their suitors lacks the chemistry of Darcy and Lizzy and the humor of Emma, it more than makes up for in drama. I think this just might be the most intense of her stories… between the libertine and cad Willoughby and the tension and heartache that Elinor goes through with Edward, I’m not sure if there’s a more soap-opera-ish Austen. I also think that this one explores class and money in a more explicit way than in the other novels. Sure, it plays a part in Mansfield Park and P&P, but it’s more in the background. Fanny and Lizzy shouldn’t be getting the men they do because they’re out of their class. But, if it wasn’t for money, Marianne’s heart wouldn’t have been broken, Edward wouldn’t have been cast out. There are a lot of money-conscious characters in this one (right from the start with John and his wife!) and it factors heavily in the plot. I think Austen could rightly be pegged as showing what money *can* (but doesn’t necessarily) do to people, and how Elinor and Marianne deal with it.

I think I still like the movie version of this more than the book, though. There’s a lot of excess — characters, descriptions, plot points (what? Willoughby came back? I didn’t remember that!) — that Thompson streamlined while still maintaining the heart of the story. It’s one of my favorite adaptations, and I think I’m going to indulge myself tonight.

Glad I read the book first, though.

There’s Fall (Or Estella) in the Air!

The October Estella’s Revenge is up!

It’s another good issue (if I do say so myself; I got asked to pinch-hit since Andi’s swamped, and I played Book Review Editor for this issue…). I’ve got several book reviews: What if…?; Two Parties, One Tux (and a very long subtitle); and a couple of Twilight Zone graphic novels. In addition though, there’s a lot of really good reviews, an interesting piece on choosing to read a chunkster, and a piece on banned books (happy banned books week!). And it wouldn’t be October without an interview with the popular paranormal romance writer (and Ann Arborite!!) Colleen Gleason.

Enjoy!

Cybils Nomations Open Today!

Shamelessly stolen borrowed from Jen Robinson’s Book Page:

CybilslogosmallNominations for the third annual Children’s and Young Adult Bloggers’ Literary Awards (the Cybils) will be open Wednesday, October 1st through Wednesday, October 15th. The goal of the Cybils team (some 100 bloggers) is to highlight books that are high in both literary quality and kid appeal. The Cybils were founded by Anne Boles Levy and Kelly Herold.

This year, awards will be given in nine categories (Easy Readers, Fantasy & Science Fiction, Fiction Picture Books, Graphic Novels, Middle Grade Novels, Non-Fiction Middle Grade/Young Adult Books, Non-Fiction Picture Books, Poetry, Young Adult Novels). Anyone can nominate books in these categories (one nomination per person per category). Nominated titles must be published between January 1st and October 15th of this year, and the books must be in English (or bilingual, where one of the languages is English). To nominate titles, visit the Cybils blog between October 1st and 15th. A separate post will be available for each category – simply nominate by commenting on those individual posts. If you are not sure which category to choose for a particular book, a questions thread will also be available.

Between October 16th and January 1st, Cybils panelists (children’s and young adult bloggers) will winnow the nominations down to a 5-7 book short list for each category. A second set of panelists will then select the winning titles for the different categories. The winners will be announced on February 14th, 2009.

The Cybils lists, from long lists to short lists to the lists of winners, offer a wonderful resource to anyone looking for high-quality, kid-friendly books. The Cybils team has worked hard to balance democracy (anyone can nominate titles) with quality control (two rounds of panel judging by people who focus on children’s books every day). We do this work because we consider it vital to get great books into the hands of children and young adults.

How Can You Participate?

We think that the Cybils nominations will be of interest to parents, teachers, librarians, writers, and teens. If you have a blog or an email list or belong to a newsgroup that serves one of these populations, and you feel that your readers would be interested, please consider distributing this announcement (you are welcome to copy it). The Cybils team would very much appreciate your help in spreading the word. And if you, or the children that you know, have any titles to suggest, we would love to see your nominations at the Cybils blog, starting on Wednesday.

September Jacket Flap-a-Thon

Ah.it’s been a bit of a challenge to get to the computer today. Mostly because I have everyone home — M’s sick, C has a matinee — and everyone’s monopolizing my computer time!! The joys of motherhood. 🙂

The Five Best:
5. Audrey, Wait! (razorbill): “Everybody’s singing ‘Audrey, Wait!’ Audrey Cuttler’s life hasn’t been teh same since that song, ‘Audrey, Wait!’ hit the airwaves. All she wants to do is go to concerts, hang out with her friends, and maybe score a date with the cute boy who works with her at the Scooper Dooper. But now, her ex-boyfriend’s song about their breakup is at the top of the charts and she’s suddenly famous! The paparazzi won’t leave her alone, the tabloids are trying to make her into some kind of rock goddess, and the Internet it documenting her every move! Will Audrey ever be able to have a normal life again? Get ready to find out, because it’s time for Audrey to tell her side of the story.”

This blurb was one of the reasons I started the book. It’s clever and catchy, like the cover. It’s not their fault I didn’t like it. 🙂

4. Grail Prince (Ballantine Books): “The wheel is turning and the world will change. . . . And a son of Lancelot, with a bloody sword and a righteous heart, shall renew the Light in Britain before the descent of savage dark. . . . So spoke the Lady of the Lake. Now her grim prophecy is coming true. King Arthur lies dead, struck down along with Mordred, his son and heir, and the greatest knights of Camelot. Of that peerless company, only Lancelot survives, a broken man who has turned his back on Britain and his forbidden love of Guinevere. Yet one knight, scarcely more than a boy, fights amid the ruins to keep Arthur’s dream alive: Galahad, the son of Lancelot. Before his death, Arthur swore the young knight to undertake a quest: a search for the scattered treasures of an ancient king. On the recovery of these powerful relics–a grail, a spear, and a sword–hinges the future of Britain. But it is the past that torments Galahad. He cannot forget or forgive his father’s betrayal of his king. Nor can he banish thoughts of the intoxicating Dandrane, sister of his friend Percival, from his mind. Yet only a man pure in heart can fulfill the prophecy of the Lady of the Lake. Not since The Mists of Avalon has an author so brilliantly reimagined and brought to life the enduring Arthurian legends. Weaving back and forth through time, from Arthur’s mighty reign and commanding influence to Galahad’s ultimate quest to preserve the destiny of a nation, The Grail Prince is an unforgettable epic of adventure and romance, of clashing swords and hearts set in a magical world as deadly as it is beautiful.”

One of those instances where the blurb is so good that it sets up unreasonable expectations for the book, which isn’t nearly as good. Still. Makes you curious, doesn’t it?

3. Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress (Alfred A. Knopf):
“An enchanting literary debut — already an international best-seller. A the height of Mao’s infamous Cultural Revolution, two boys are among hundreds of thousands exiled to the countryside for “re-education.” The narrator and his best friend, Luo, guilty of being the sons of doctors, find themselves in a remote village where, among the peasants of Phoenix mountain, they are made to cart buckets of excrement up and down precipitous winding paths. Their meager distractions include a violin — as well as, before long, the beautiful daughter of the local tailor. But it is when the two discover a hidden stash of Western classics in Chinese translation that their re-education takes its most surprising turn. While ingeniously concealing their forbidden treasure, the boys find transit to worlds they had thought lost forever. And after listening to their dangerously seductive retellings of Balzac, even the Little Seamstress will be forever transformed. From within the hopelessness and terror of one of the darkest passages in human history, Dai Sijie has fashioned a beguiling and unexpected story about the resilience of the human spirit, the wonder of romantic awakening and the magical power of storytelling.”

Good. Not brilliant, but short, and accurate. Which counts for a lot when it’s an adult book.

2. Crown Duel (The Crown and Court Duet) (Firebird): “Battle on and off the field, with sword and fan, with might and manners… It begins in a cold and shabby tower room, where young Countess Meliara swears to her dying father that she and her brother will defend their people from the growing greed of the king. That promise leads them into a war for which they are ill-prepared, a war that threatens the homes and lives of the very people they are trying to protect. But war is simple compared to what follows, when the bloody fighting is done and a fragile peace is at hand. Although she wants to turn her back on politics and the crown, Meliara is summoned to the royal palace. There, she soon discovers, friends and enemies look alike, and intrigue fills the dance halls and the drawing rooms. If she is to survive, Meliara must learn a whole new way of fighting — with wit and words and secret alliances. In war, at least, she knew whom she could trust. Now she can trust no one….”

Clever way to intrigue, and write about two different books that have been combined into one.

1. Dracula (HarperCollins Publishers): “The punctured throat, the coffin lid slowly opening, the unholy shriek as the stake pierces the heart — these are just a few of the chilling images Bram Stoker unleashed upon the world with his 1897 masterpiece, Dracula. Inspired by the folk legend of Nosferatu, the undead, Stoker created a timeless tale of gothic horror and romance that has enthralled and terrified readers ever since. This illustrated edition does full justice to the dark splendor of Stoker’s novel of the count who feeds off the blood of the living. Stark and powerful relief engraving from renowned illustrator Barry Moser brings to life the story’s most unforgettable moments and characters: the ship of death that brings Dracula to English shores as it pitches upon the sea; the final terrible siege at his Transylvanian lair; and the faces of clever, loving Mina Harker, mad, ravenous Renfield, wise Professor Van Helsing, and of course, Count Dracula himself. Told in letters, diary entries, and news clippings, Dracula maintains an uncanny power over the reader, not only in the chilling charisma of its of-imitated character, but in the pace and fury of its storytelling. Stoker’s novel has inspired countless movies and like its hero, has the power to live forever.”

As good as the book…. makes me want to read it again!

The One Worst:
Just So Stories (Magnum): “‘In the days when everybody started fair, Best Beloved, the Leopard lived in a place called the High Veldt. ‘Member it wasn’t the Low Veldt, or the Bush Veldt, or the Sour Veldt, but the ‘sclusively bare, hot, shiny High Veldt, where there was sand and…’ More? Find in this book ‘How the Leopard Got His Spots,’ and you will be carried along (but always toward the astonishing answer) on a soaring wave of sounds and pictures meant by Rudyard Kipling to be read aloud — and ‘sclusively for children of all ages. And then frolic through other pages to see How the Whale Got His Throat, How The Rhinoceros Got His Skin and even (but don’t really believe it) How the Alphabet Was Made… Kipling wrote the delightfully imaginative Just So Stories in 1902, for his own Best Beloved, his daughter Josephine. But millon have since felt no less loved through his gift to them of his playful wit and the sheer music of his language. The Just So Stories are set, literally, in India, the scene of many Kipling’s books, but they come, in a sense, from a country of magic.”

Ack. Really. It’s bad. But then, the copy was written in 1968. We’ve gotten much, much better since then.

The Other One Worst:
The Acts of King Arthur and his Noble Knights (Farrar, Straus and Giroux):

I’m not even going to bother writing it out. They just took the introduction and used it as flap copy. Lazy, lazy, lazy. Bad copy writers.

The Acts of King Arthur and his Noble Knights

I really liked the idea of this book. I was searching for a copy of Malory’s Morte d’Arthur and came across this one, “written” by John Steinbeck. I thought it was interesting: who knew that Steinbeck had done anything with King Arthur? I got it from the library, and perused the introduction. It turns out that Steinbeck hated reading until an aunt gave him a copy of Mallory, and it was because of that book that Steinbeck became who he did. He wanted so much to “translate” it into common vernacular, so he took it upon himself to go to England, study the manuscripts and create a version of the work of his own.

However, he never finished it. This was published after his death, in 1976, with a series of letters from Steinbeck to his agent and editor about the process. I found both the introduction and the letters fascinating.

But. (You knew there would be one, didn’t you?)

When it came to the actual reading of the tales, I was bored out of my skull. I won’t say that it was Steinbeck’s — or even Mallory’s — fault, because there was a part of me that was intrested to see the origins of all the novels I’ve enjoyed. I just realized about 100 pages in that I like the novelizations. I like to have my mythical characters have motivations, and conversations, and to be more fleshed out than they were in this telling. (For the same reason, I don’t really like Greek myths, although Hubby and M tell me I’m missing out.) And since my time is better spent reading something I really like, I abandoned it.

If you’re interested in Arthurian legends on an intellectual level (or you handle myths in pure form better than I do), this really is an interesting way to read it, especially if you can’t get your hands on a good version of Le Morte d’Arthur. It’s just not for me.

Just So Stories

The Just So Stories, by Rudyard Kipling, are, I think, some of the most retold stories in English language. I know I’ve heard most of them (though not all) in some form or other before I ever picked up this collection of the original tales to read. Not all the stories are equal: the most famous ones — about how the elephant got his nose, or how the camel got his hump — are justifiably so, being timeless, funny, and enjoyable to read. Some of the others are clever, but kind of silly (like how the alphabet was made… Cute, but… kind of dumb). Some — like the first story about the whale — were just weird. Even so, it was an enjoyable experience.

Although I enjoyed reading the stories, and I could tell the affection Kipling had for his daughter (whom the stories were written for), I really think these stories are better enjoyed told, or with a lot of illustrations, then read straight through. Kipling has an almost Seussian grasp of the language, inventing words to suit his needs. I often resorted to reading out loud just so I could hear what Kipling was trying to do with a certain passage.

It was definitely worth the time, though.