I tried to read this one. I really did. It had a great first line: “‘Take my camel, dear,’ said my aunt Dot, as she climbed down from this animal on her return from High Mass.” It was supposed to be “fantasy, farce, high comedy, lively travel material, delicious japes at many aspects of the frenzied world, and a succession of illuminating thoughts about love, sex, life, organized churches, and religion”.

It put me to sleep.

Not just once, mind you. Once would mean I just had a bad night, and need a few more hours sleep. But several times. Every time I picked up the book, I found myself nodding off. Even sentances like this: “Death is awful, and one hates to think about it, but I suppose after all those years of it the dead take it for granted” couldn’t keep me awake.

If someone with a higher ability to stay awake while reading profound books written in the 1950s cares to read this book, let me know how it goes.

I found this book through Four Obsessions, who found it through A Fuse #8 production, who declared it (back in February) to be the best children’s book of 2006. I’m not nearly as well-versed in children’s books as Fuse is (being a children’s librarian and all), but I do have to join in her enthusiasm for this book by Frances Hardinge. If all first books could be like this — shoot, if all books could be like this — the world would be a happy place.

A blurb about the story doesn’t do the book justice, but I’ll attempt it just the same. Mosca Mye, a 12-year-old girl, lives in the Fractured Realm with her aunt and uncle after her father’s death. She (accidentally) sets their mill on fire and heads out of town with Eponymous Clent, a poet, a cad, a shady but nice enough man. They head for Mandeloin, where they get involved in Nefarious Plots and have all sorts of Adventures. I know it doesn’t sound all that great. But, really it is.

Why? The words, for one. I loved the description of the relationship between Mosca and Saracen, Mosca’s pet goose whom no one else can get near:

However, Mosca and Saracen shared, if not a friendship, at least the
solidarity of the generally despised. Mosca assumed that Saracen had his
reasons for his persecution of terriers and his possessive love of the
malthouse roof. In turn, when Mosca had interrupted Saracen’s self-important
nightly patrol and scooped him up, Saracen had assumed that she, too, had
her reasons.

There are many wonderful little nuggets like that; it would take me too long to write them all. I loved that you didn’t quite know where everyone stood; even Mosca has questionable allegiances at times. There’s no clear-cut black and white. I loved the world which Hardinge created, with the Beloved and Birdcatchers and Sationers and Locksmiths all playing roles in this drama.

My only real complaint is the book cover Harper Collins chose for it. Across the front, there’s a banner: “Imagine a world in which all books have been BANNED!” Well, while not exactly untrue, it’s a bit misleading. In the Fractured Realm, the books aren’t banned, but rather heavily censored. In fact, that’s a major theme running through: what would happen in a world where the free exchange of ideas lead to violence? And then, when the people responsible for stopping the violence (in a violent manner), took it upon themselves to approve or disapprove of everything published? What kind of world would it become? There’s one quote from the head Staioner in Mandelion, talking to Mosca about her father:

“Your father had a brilliant mind — I have never known a keener. The hardest thing I ever had to do was to give the order for his books to be burned. ” He barked his laugh. “And the second hardest was persuading the Guild that they should not burn him as well as his books.”

It’s a good adventure and, in the end, a profound little book. Highly recommended.

This book by Jeffrey Steingarten, oddly enough, reminded me of people as I read it. It reminded me of my father (not exactly someone who pops into mind when reading a book about food), because of the very excellent chapter on ketchup (and I think my dad should read this book, if only for the chapter on ketchup). It also reminded me of hubby’s friends Nick and Scott, because Steingarten is, for better or for worse, as thoroughly obsessive about food as those two. And, I would probably be very self-conscious about cooking for them (though I think I’ve actually cooked for Scott, once, and if I remember right, he put Worcestershire sauce on the hamburger).

Anyway, this book is a collection of Steingarten’s food reviews/essays that he wrote for Vogue back in the early 90s. Some of them are excellent, like the aforementioned ketchup one. I’ve learned more than I need to know about mashing potatoes, vegetables (and how they’re out to kill us), fruit, bread, fruitcake (from his relatives in Salt Lake City, yes they’re Mormon), cooking from the back of the box, diets, wagyu beef…

I admit, I didn’t read the book cover to cover; after getting about halfway through, I got fed up and skipped around the rest of the book reading the chapters that interested me. But, I think this book is meant to be read like that. Or, at the very least, I didn’t lose anything by reading it that way. At any rate, it’s a bit of obsessive food fun. And I do like that.

I thought the idea of this meme was fun so I thought I’d give it a whirl. I also thought, since youth fiction is what I enjoy most, that I’d limit myself to that.

1. One book that changed your life: Beauty, by Robin McKinley. It was the first youth fiction book I read as an adult, being recommended to me by a close friend. A close second is the Dark is Rising series by Susan Cooper. Both convinced me (granted this was more than 10 years ago) that the best writing out there is for youth, not adults.

2. One book you have read more than once: Oh, lots. Though I try not to read books more than once — too many to get through to spend too much time re-reading. The newest book I’ve read that stands up well to re-reads is The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale.

3. One book you would want on a desert island: Anything by Lois Lowry. And The Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit, though they’re techinically not youth fiction.

4. One book that made you laugh: Ah, I’m at a loss for a youth fiction book that was hands-down funny. Any suggestions? (The funniest book I’ve found is I’m a Stranger Here Myself, by Bill Bryson. I laugh no matter how many times I read it.)

5. One book that made you cry: Trite but true: The Bridge to Terabithia. I cry every time. I also bawled at the end of Half-Blood Prince, but only the first time.

6. One book you wish you had written: I think if I were to write a book it would either be like The Penderwicks, by Jeanne Birdsall or Stargirl, by Jerry Spinelli. If I were to write a book.

7. One book you wish had never been written: Princess Diaries, by Meg Cabot. The movie is better, and that’s saying a lot.

8. One book you are currently reading: The Man Who ate Everything, but that’s not youth fiction. Next up, Fly by Night, by Frances Hardinge. I’m excited about that one.

Ah, normalcy. It allows me to actually get back to what I really enjoy. 🙂 I gave our library’s “hold” system (what they call inter-library loan) a whirl; for 25 cents a book I could have whatever I want from any library. And so, for one whole dollar, I came home with four books which are mine for a month. Not bad. Especially when you factor in that I spent NO time wandering the stacks with a two-and-a-half year old and an almost-five month baby. Sounds like money well spent to me.

So, Enna Burning, by Shannon Hale. While I like Hale’s writing, this one just didn’t quite gel for me. The basic plot picks up where Goose Girl left off, and develops on some of the ideas Hale played with in the first book. Enna — Princess Isi’s friend — returns home to the forest. After her mother dies, her brother — Liefer — comes home with a piece of vellum and some new-found abilities with fire. Soon, Bayern is at war, Liefer dies, Enna discovers how to work fire, and the rest of the book is spent with her dealing with it. Some of the ideas are interesting: if one could speak a “language” of nature, what would happen? Would it totally overwhelm you? What would it demand from you? What would it take to control it? Especially something like fire.

In the end, though, Enna just didn’t captivate me like Goose Girl did. I can’t really put my finger on it; Hale is an excellent storyteller, and it’s not a bad story. Maybe it just wasn’t all I was hoping it could be.