Adult Fiction

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

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by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith
ages: adult(ish)
First sentence: “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains.”

I avoided this book when it was all the rage a few years back for one reason: zombies. I really don’t do zombies. That, and I really like Jane Austen and I suspected that I probably wouldn’t be amenable to a mash-up of one of my favorite books.

I was right, on both counts.

For my mother-daughter book group (they’re in 6th and 7th grade), one of the girls picked the prequel to this one, Dawn of the Dreadfuls, as her book choice for this past month. (By the way, the discussion was quite good, even though no one finished it, or even liked it.) I decided here was my chance to see what everyone was talking about, and chose to read this one.

I didn’t finish it, and I didn’t like it. Partly because of the zombies, true. It’s not exactly for the squeamish. The basic plot is that of Pride and Prejudice, except the countryside is swarming in zombies, and the Bennet sisters are skilled zombie killers. They have to be in order to survive.

Which brings me to my second issue: they just smashed zombies into P&P, without a thought to characterization, plot, or even if it would work in Austen’s work. Which it doesn’t. (For me.) Adding zombies changed the characters, and instead of having charming, witty, loveable Lizzy, we’re left with this weird, strange, honor-bound, vengeance-seeking woman. Who beats Darcy up when he proposes to her. (Which is completely out of character. Even if he deserves it.)

So, while I can see the humor in it and the appeal of it, no, it didn’t work for me. Now I know.

A Discovery of Witches

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by Deborah Harkness
ages: adult
First sentence: “The leather-bound volume was nothing remarkable.”
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Although I liked this one quite a bit — more than I was expecting, actually — by the end of it, I was quite torn. So, let’s just say, up front, that my enjoyment of this one was tempered by some hangups.

The good:
I loved the world that Harkness created. It’s basically our world, except it’s inhabited by vampires, witches, and daemons. They’re generally brilliant, generally long-lived, and generally go unnoticed by humans. Our main character, Diana, is a witch who, ever since her parents’ deaths when she was 7, has shunned her magic. She’s a historian of 17th-century science, which means she dabbles in Alchemy. She’s pretty content with her life. Until she meets Matthew. Who is a vampire.

Which brings me to good point number 2: Harkness has a debt to owe to Stephenie Meyer, but she one-ups her. Matthew is 1500 years old, which makes him incredibly fascinating. (And I suppose it’s kind of creepy that a 1500 year old would fall in love with a 37 year old?) There’s a lot of history in this book, and no accident that Diana, as a historian, is fascinated by Matthew.

The bad:
It’s still True Love, and while it’s not as stifling as Edward and Bella’s love, it’s still pretty sappy. (What is it with vampires and a reluctance to have sex?) There’s also that element of over-protectiveness that drove me batty in the Twilight series. The only difference is that Diana can — and does — hold her own as a witch, though it takes her most of the book to do so. She also struggles against Matthew’s edicts, which helps with the whole damsel-in-distress thing. That, and the fact that she’s in REAL danger as opposed to supposed danger helps temper Matthew’s irritating behavior.

The good:
The plot is intriguing and complex: there’s a lost manuscript that all the “creatures” (as they call themselves) are longing to get their hands on. But, more importantly, there’s the forbidden love (really?) between Diana and Matthew: it seems the creatures aren’t suppose to cross-mate because of an age old (like centuries) covenant that the creatures made with each other. This leads to a lot of things, the most important being an impending “war” between the creatures who are okay with Diana and Matthew’s love and those who are not.

The bad:
On some levels, the idea of anyone being able to love anyone they want is a good story. But my main complaint with this book is that it’s 576 pages, and they don’t get to the point until the last 1/4. The plot pacing is bad as well: it’ll be interesting, then Harkness will divert into pages and pages of wine, food and romancing (M contended that if she cut out all the bits about wine, she would have lost about 75 pages…), none of which had anything to do with the plot. More than once, I nearly lost patience with the book.

That said, I’m invested now, and I’m interested in where Harkness is going to go with the sequel. Hopefully, it won’t be nearly as long. (Then again, she’s a historian, so I’m not really expecting a more tightly written book. Just hoping.)

Audiobook: The Spellman Files

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by Lisa Lutz
Read by Ari Graynor
ages: adult
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

I first heard about the Spellmans through Jen Robinson who blogged about them a few years ago. She mentioned that they’re for people who love quirky characters, and since I’m all for that, I stuck it on my TBR list and let it sit.

One of the things I’m doing through my audiobook listening is going back through my age-old lists and finding ones that have been sitting there forever to listen to. This one definitely qualifies.

Twenty-eight year old Isabel Spellman grew up working in her parent’s PI buisness. Which means that she’s excellent at stakeouts, can pick a lock with the best of them, and has absolutely no respect for the privacy of others (yes, she really did run a credit check on ex-boyfriend #6). However, when she meets Daniel (ex-boyfriend #9), things get a little, well, sticky. After he breaks up with her, she decides she’s had Enough. But, before she’s allowed to quit the family buisness, her parents give her a 12-year-old cold case to “solve”. And, before that’s solved, a case closer to home pops up, one that may be the most important of Isabel’s life.

Okay, that makes it sound all dark and dangerous, and honestly: it’s not. This book is mostly an introduction to the Spellmans and all their quirkiness (why, yes, Mom does hire out someone to stake out Isabel, not to mention bugging her apartment). Mom and Dad don’t really play much of a role (except as ominous yet loveable background players); the more important figures in Isabel’s life are her lawyer brother David, her Uncle Ray, and her teenage sister Rae. Between the four of them — and the back-and-forthing they do — they drive what plot there is.

And there really isn’t much of one. It didn’t seem to matter, though: I was captivated by Isabel’s voice (and Graynor’s reading of her), her observations of her ex-boyfriends, the cases, and her family. It was a lot of fun to listen to.

That said, there is one glitch: I didn’t realize until the very end (when the credits said “adapted by”) that this was an abridged novel. Nooooo! Now I’m going to have to get the book and read it: I want to know what I missed!

In spite of that, it was quite an entertaining way to spend my time.

Midnight in Austenland

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by Shannon Hale
ages: adult
First sentence: “No one who knew Charlotte Constance Kinder since her youth would suppose her born to be a heroine.”
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 Since her husband cheated on her then left her and married his mistress, Charlotte Kinder has been completely numb. Sure, she still runs her very successful web business and takes care of her two kids, but in her personal life, she has no hope. No matter how many dates her friends set her up on, she figures she will never love again.

Then, she discovers an old bucket list of hers, which has “read Jane Austen” on it. She does, falls in love (just with the idea of falling in love, of course), and as a present to herself, goes on vacation to Pembrook Park. For a good, old-fashioned Regency Romance.

The best way I can think of to describe it is thus: if Austenland (which you don’t need to read before reading this one, but why wouldn’t you?) is Pride and Prejudice, Midnight in Austenland is Northanger Abbey. There are a couple of mysteries — both real and made-up — to solve; there’s a lot of running around at night; but most of all, there’s a Gothic feel. That, and the book just isn’t as light as Austenland is. It’s not only Charlotte’s hurt from her husband’s infidelity and betrayal, and the mysteries, there’s just a lot more brooding going on. The romantic interest, Mr. Mallery, is Heathcliff — okay, I know: not Austen, but it’s the best description — reincarnated. He attempts to do the Regency thing, but mostly he just skulks in the corner. Thank goodness there’s Charlotte’s “brother” (for the two weeks, not in real life) Eddie Grey, who lightens and mixes things up. Some of the minor players from Austeland are back: the formidable hostess, Mrs. Wattlesbrook (who is not quite as formidable), and the goofy-yet-vulnerable Miss Charming. There are new characters as well, including a starlet that’s using Pembrook Park as a place to escape not just from the press, but from real life.

The only complaint I have is that it’s not as funny as Austenland was (or that I’d hoped it would be). That’s not to say it isn’t good. Admittedly, I adore Shannon Hale, but I do think this one is worth reading (if only for this sentence: “But in life, rarely do we encounter an onslaught of beauty, enter a hive of handsomeness, find ourselves awash in an ocean of attractiveness, drowning ina miasma of hotness.”). It’s sweet and it’s tender; it’s light enough to be fluffy, but has enough weight so that it’s not a waste of time. (I need to say it: there was a moment when I needed to shout “GO CHARLOTTE!” Hooray for heroines who can save themselves!)

In other words: it’s another delight from a delightful writer.

Ready Player One

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by Ernest Cline
ages: adult
First sentence: “Everyone my age remembers where they were and what they were doing when they first heard about the contest.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

It’s 2044, and as a result of the energy crisis, the world has basically gone to pot. That’s okay, though, because most people spend their lives in OASIS, a virtual utopia where you can be whomever and whatever you want. Five years ago, the creator of OASIS died, and as his dying act, set up a contest: be the first one to find the Halliday “Easter Egg” and you will inherit Halliday’s fortune of billions of dollars. Wade is one of those obsessed with the contest, and with Halliday, which means he’s into all of Halliday’s interests: everything 80s. As Wade delves deeper into the contest, he finds friends and allies and makes enemies who will go so far as to kill him in real life in order to get to the prize.

This was a last-minute impromptu buddy read with Kelly from A Written World. We traded questions for our review; click through to her blog to see her answers to my questions.

1. This book has had a lot of hype surrounding it around the blogosphere. Did it live up to the expectations you were expecting as a result?
Actually, I missed the hype surrounding this one (one of the side benefits of working, I guess) — I did pick it up as a result of a review on a friend’s blog, though — and so I went in with a fairly clean slate.  I suppose, if I had read a lot of hype, if it had been one of those books I’d been seeing everywhere, I would have had a worse attitude. I think going in with no expectations was the best way to go here.
2. What did you think of Wade, the main character? Was he he someone you could enjoy enough to read the book from his perspective, or did he bother you?
Oh, I liked Wade. He wasn’t perfect, but I’m enough of a geek (and I had two geeky brothers as well) to relate to the social awkwardness, the obsessive side of his personality, and the way his mind worked. He was a fine narrator for me. (Though I think I’d like to see the world from Aech’s point of view.)

3. What were some of your favourite (geeky) references?
Ah, I ate up the 80s stuff.  Seriously. War Games! (Loved the movie.) Ladyhawk! (Ditto) All the little ones (Back to the Future, Hitchhiker’s Guide, Knight Rider, John Hughes movies, Pac Man) that were sprinkled throughout just gave me little bursts of glee. The only things I didn’t get were the gaming references — I wasn’t, and am not now, a gamer — but Cline explained things enough that it didn’t bother me that I didn’t get the in-jokes.

4. What did you think of the secondary characters? Did any stick out for you?

I loved Ath3na. Seriously, she rocked. She’s smart, she’s determined, and she was awesome enough to get to the top on her own accord. (I kept wanting to say, “In your face, gamer boys.” But maybe that’s a bit harsh.)


5. What did you think of the whole idea of the book? Did the game and the Dystopian aspect work for you?

I’m not sure the dystopian aspect worked. As I was talking to my husband about the book, and he kept asking questions about the world: how do they survive? Where do they get food?  Money? Everyone in the world can’t all always live inside the virtual one? But, I’m not sure I really cared. Because I got sucked inside the virtual world as well, wrapped up in the game. The parts when Wade wasn’t playing — like after Art3mis dumped him — were the sluggish ones for me. But, when Wade was fully immersed in OASIS and the game, the book was hard to put down.

Ivanhoe

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by Sir Walter Scott
ages: adult
First sentence: “In that pleasant district of merry England which is watered by the river Don, there extended in ancient times a large forest, covering the greater part of the beautiful hills and vallies which lie between Sheffield and that pleasant tow of Doncaster.”

Oh, Ivanhoe. How I wanted to like you. I like historical fiction, generally speaking, and I wanted, so very much, to enjoy the book that basically defined it as a genre. I love Robin Hood and the legend surrounding him, and I don’t mind the whole Prince John/Prince Richard, early England thing. In fact, I adore Renaissance festivals. So, it’s not the subject matter.

No, it was the language. The best word I can think of was “stuffy”. And I don’t know why that was: I don’t mind, usually, books written in the early 1800s. I can wade through long, complex sentences. But with you, Ivanhoe, I felt like I was looking at the words, reading them, and then they would just slide right out of my brain. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t even tell you half of the main characters, let alone the plot. At one point, I was thinking that maybe I had a bad translation, and if I just found a different one, everything would be okay… then I remembered that Scott was English.

I’m sure you’re a fun adventure story, full of jousts, knights, antisemitism, and silly jesters, but honestly? I’m not sure I care enough to wade through the book again to find out.

I know it’s me, though, and not you.

Audiobook: Water for Elephants

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by Sarah Gruen
Read by David LeDoux and John Randolph Jones
ages: adult
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

It’s no secret that I don’t do well with books on the bestseller list. And so it was with much trepidation that I picked this one up. (I say “much trepidation” but really it was curiosity and a sense that maybe the hype had died down…)

For the three of you who haven’t read it: it’s the Depression and Jacob Jankowski is a veterinary student at Cornell, just about to sit for his last final exams when his parents were killed in a tragic accident. This throws Jacob completely off course, and one fateful night, he jumps a train. It turns out to be the train for the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth. And in one fell swoop  — and for three and half tumultuous months — Jacob’s life is changed.

First and foremost, this is a circus book. And it’s not a pretty picture. There’s Uncle Al, the ring master, who is vain and malicious. August, the animal trainer who is alternately charming and violent. And because these two are in charge, the whole environment of the circus is not healthy, to say the least. Jacob falls in with a dwarf named Walter; the relationship is rocky at first, but eventually they form a close friendship. And he falls in love with the lovely Marlena, the star of the Liberty Horse act, and August’s wife.

But where do the elephants come in? I have to admit that I was a tad disappointed there; the jacketflap (do audiobooks have jacketflaps?) implied that there was a bond between Jacob, Marlena and Rosie, the elephant the Benzini Brothers show picks up soon after Jacob joins on. But, I never really felt it. Sure, the elephant was the catalyst for much of what happened in the book, but really? I wish Jacob had done more, interacted more with the elephant. It seemed to me he spent much of his time running around, baffled as to what the heck was going on. And I did feel quite cheated by the climax. It was an honest twist, but I think Gruen misled us on purpose, which always gets my hackles up.

What really made the book for me was the present day segments, when Jacob was “ninety or ninety-three.” I have a friend who is currently studying gerontology, and keeps me up to date on her studies. Because of that, I had more sympathy for Jacob’s situation, being in a nursing home, and his concerns about getting old. He was alternately a sweetheart and a firecracker, and I adored him.

That said, I think that audio was the best way for me to experience this one. Both the narrators were excellent (LeDoux read the young Jacob; Jones the older one), and because of that I was able to really “see” the book in a way I don’t think I would have, had I read it.

I’m not sure if my good experience with this one will change my opinion on bestsellers. But I can say that this one was worth my time.

The Snow Child

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by Eowyn Ivey
ages: adult
First sentence: “Mabel had known there would be silence.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!
Review copy provided by publisher through my place of employment.
Release date: February 1, 2012

I have sat down several times since I finished this quiet and lovely book last week, trying to figure out what to say about it, coming up short every time. I’m not sure I have the words in me to write this, but I’m going to try.

It’s the Alaskan frontier in 1920, and Mabel and Jack — an older, childless couple, from “Back East” in Pennsylvania — are giving the whole frontier experience a try. They’ve been at it for a couple of years, and it’s not going well: Jack can’t seem to make the land work for him, and Mabel is becoming desperately helpless in the face of the cold, the dark, and the silence. Then, in the first snowfall of the year, a bit of whimsey overtakes them, and they build a snow child. It doesn’t seem like much, but the next morning, the snow child is gone, and in its place is a little girl, half-wild and almost unwilling to be tamed.

Mabel and Jack take to the girl — who may or may not be a fairy child; in many ways that question is irrelevant to purpose the book. For whatever the jacket copy may say, this is not a fantasy —  whose name is Faina, and slowly adopt her into their family, even though she never lives with them. Even though she disappears each spring, returning with each snowfall. By knowing Faina — and for us, by following hers, and Mabel’s and Jack’s stories — Mabel and Jack come to know and appreciate and love the wildness of Alaska, with all its joys and pains.

In many ways this is two books in one: yes, it’s a story about a childless couple coming to terms with both the hardship of a new life (which they chose), but also the hardship of the loss of their only child as an infant. But, perhaps more importantly, it’s a love story to the wilderness; from the breathtaking descriptions of the snow-covered landscape, to the brutal way in which the animals are hunted for food, Ivey captures life in the Alaskan outback with meticulous detail. I almost wanted to go see it for myself.

It was a soft and poetic book, something substantial enough to curl up with and enjoy on a cold winter’s night and yet magical enough to provide an escape from everyday life.

The Heroines

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by Eileen Favorite
ages: adult
First sentence: “I was so angry with Mother!”
Review copy sent by the author’s publicist. 

The pitch: a literary fantasy in which heroines of beloved novels (most of them tragic) escape to a bed and breakfast in rural Indiana in 1974.

The heroine: thirteen-year-old Penny who is at odds with her mother, Anne-Marie. Mostly because her mother won’t let her interfere with the heroines, but also because she’s 13 and that’s what 13-year-olds do.

The plot: I don’t know. I never got there. Seventy pages in, and I was still struggling to figure out what the heck was going on. I got that there was tension between the mother and daughter, and there was something about not running through the woods, but that’s really all.

The reason I abandoned this one: It was boring. Painfully so. I think it was meant to be cute and pretentious, but honestly? It put me to sleep. Multiple times. I don’t even have anything clever to say about this one because I didn’t even actively dislike it.

I hate to say this, because I did like the idea of the premise, but this one just didn’t work for me.

Audiobook: The Eyre Affair

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by Jasper Fforde
read by Susan Duerden
ages: adult
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

When I finished Jane Eyre a few years (well, five) back, someone told me that now I needed to read The Eyre Affair. I said okay, and stuck it on the TBR list, and then promptly forgot about it.

As I finished up my last audio book, I was looking through my old lists for a good audio book to read, and this one stood out. Why not give Jasper Fforde and Thursday Next a try?

I can safely say I’m torn about this novel. On the one hand, it was weirdly brilliant: why not create an alternative world, where in 1985 there’s time travel and interesting inventions; where planes aren’t used for commercial travel, and there’s a questionably moral corporation — Goliath — basically running England, and where the ending to Jane Eyre is that she goes off with her cousin to India. In this world, there are people called Litera Techs, SpecOps-27, who deal with crimes on literature. It’s a pretty mundane job, for the most part, especially for Crimean War veteran (the Russians and the English have been fighting this war for more than a century) Thursday Next. Then evil mastermind Archeron Hades steals the manuscript for Charles Dickens’ Martin Chuzzlewit and all hell breaks loose, and it’s up to Thursday to put it right.

The other really brilliant thing in this book was the names: from Archeron (and his brother Styx) Hades, to Thursday’s partners Victor Analogy and Bowden Cable and her ex-boyfriend Landon Parke-Lane (not to mention the Goliath head honcho Jack Schitt. Yes, that is exactly how you say it.) they are all brilliant. No, I didn’t get all the British references, but I got enough to find it amusing.

But, in the end, that’s all the book had: a great premise and some funny literary illusions. It took much too long in set up, getting around to the point of the novel; why was it called the Eyre Affair, when it was such a small part of the whole novel? I enjoyed the Shakespeare debates, but felt they didn’t really serve much purpose in the overall arc of the story. In fact, I could say that for a lot of the novel: it took too much time building the world, which was only sometimes fascinating, and then it took too much time wrapping up (and setting up the next one) in the end. It was just… too long.

A note about the reading: it was quite good. I probably had more patience for this book in audio form because Duerden was such a capable reader, creating a world for me with her voice that wouldn’t have otherwise existed. (Plus it helped that she tackled both the Welsh and the French with aplomb, something which I couldn’t have done on my own.)

So, cut 150 or so (just guessing here; a few discs would have been nice), and perhaps it’d be a really great novel.