Book Review: The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells by Andrew Sean Greer

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells by Andrew Sean Greer

The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells

The impossible happens once to each of us.

From the very first line, author Andrew Sean Greer sets the stage for a magical, impossible, emotional journey as we follow one woman through three different lives in three very different times.

Who among us hasn’t at one time or another sighed, “I was born in the wrong era” or some similar sentiment?

In The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells, we meet a woman who gets a strange and miraculous chance to experience her life not just in her current world of the mid 1980s, but also in 1918 and 1941. After being treated for severe depression with electro-convulsive therapy, Greta slips into alternative versions of her life, where the familiar and the strange collide. It’s not time travel, but rather a shift in reality, a journey to an alternate universe in which Greta and the people in her life are the same people, but facing very different choices and circumstances.

Greta is a twin, and her brother Felix is the center of her universe. It is Felix’s death in 1985 during the “plague years” of the AIDS epidemic that pushes Greta first into depression and then on her impossible journey into two other versions of herself. In 1985, Greta’s long-term lover Nathan has just left her after she pushed him away during Felix’s illness. In 1918, Greta is a young wife to Nathan, an army doctor away in the trenches of WWI, but she faces her own set of disappointments and fears. And in 1941, with America on the brink of war, Greta and Nathan are married with a child, but Greta has suffered the loss of her beloved aunt Ruth and is beset by worries over Felix’s own unhappiness.

As Greta moves between lives, she leaves a footprint. She becomes convinced that her purpose is to perfect the alternate lives she inhabits — but she’s not the only one. 1918 Greta and 1941 Greta are on this journey as well, so that “our” Greta finds her own world changed by the imprints left by the others as they circle through one another’s lives.

Confused yet? It is a lot to track, and at times (many times) I found myself flipping back to double-check just which version of Greta’s life I was in now, and just where we’d left off that time around.

It’s fascinating to visit New York of 1918 and 1941, to see the roles available to women — housewives, mothers, lovers — and how those changed over time. Equally fascinating, and quite touching as well, is the view into life for a gay man in those times. In 1985, Greta is destroyed by Felix’s loss . She finds him alive and well in 1918 and 1941, but living lives defined by hiding, pretending, and sublimating. Part of Greta’s quest is to help Felix be happy in the worlds left to him; in his “real” life, Felix was an exuberantly joyful man, and although he (like so many others) died too soon, he was able to live his brief life to the fullest, surrounded by friends and loved by a good man. As 1985 Greta meets Felix again and again, she pushes him to find a way to live in his world and at the same time to seek love and truth in whatever way he can.

The writing in The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells is lyrical and lovely, full of moments of quiet emotion and heart-breaking truths. In Greta’s first visit to 1918, she is literally stopped in her tracks by seeing a familiar young man on the street — a man who in her own world of 1985 was but one of the many young men struck down by AIDS:

Laughing again, turning, looking around at me: familiar young men appearing in this unfamiliar world. Men who had died months or years before from the plague miraculously revived! There, in an army uniform, was the boy who made jewelry from papier-mâché beads; he died in the spring. And that one soldier, the stark blond Swede jumping from the streetcar, once sold magazines; he’d died two years before, one of the first: the cave’s canary. Who know how many more were off to war? Alive, each one, alive and more than alive — shouting, laughing, running down the street!

Of course, in the joy of seeing these young men alive once more, Greta is overlooking the fact that other perils await. There’s a war on, and although armistice is around the corner, some of these bright young men, “miraculously revived”, will not make it through the war. It was interesting to see the parallels drawn by the author between the great calamities each age: In 1918 and 1941, it was world war that took the lives of so many as such a young age; in 1985, it was the AIDS plague that seemed to wipe out a generation, so that by the time Greta attends the most recent in a string of funerals, there’s almost no one left to be mourners, all of the deceased’s friends having been taken already.

I couldn’t stop reading, once I’d started, and I probably made a mistake in gobbling it up quite so fast. The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells has an engrossing plot, but in my rush to see what happens next, I didn’t take as much time as I should have to savor the rich characters and the extraordinary use of language. This is not a long book, but it felt jam-packed — with the jumps through time, with vivid period details, with sights and smells that take you immediately into the worlds of 1918, 1941, and 1985 — so that by the time I reached the end, I felt like I’d experienced something much more than 289 pages of a fictional tale.

The simplest way for me to sum up? I was swept away by the magical possibilities of living three versions of a life, and was enchanted by Greta’s journey. Filled with fully-realized characters and given life by a unique premise, The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells is a reading experience to enjoy in the moment, and then to ponder for hours afterward.

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The details:

Title: The Impossible Lives of Greta Wells
Author: Andrew Sean Greer
Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication date: 2013
Genre: Adult Fiction
Source: Purchased

9Aug2013

Book Review: Openly Straight by Bill Konigsberg

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: Openly Straight by Bill Konigsberg

The main thing I want to say about Openly Straight is that I loved it. But that’s not a very helpful book review, is it?

Okay, I’ll get more specific. What’s it about and why did I love it?

Openly Straight is the story of Seamus Rafael Goldberg (but call him Rafe, unless you’re his best friend Claire Olivia, in which case “Shay Shay” is acceptable). Rafe is going into his junior year of high school and is frankly quite tired of being the gay kid. Not that he’s ashamed or wishes he was other than he is. It’s just that Rafe has grown up in Boulder, Colorado with parents who are totally loving free spirits — parents who threw him a party when he came out in 8th grade, complete with party hats that said “Yay! Rafe is Gay!” on them (I kid you not). Rafe’s mom is the president of Boulder’s PFLAG chapter, and Rafe regularly speaks at local schools about being gay, answering kids’ questions and in general being the face of “gayness”. To the extent that when the civil rights movement was discussed in history class, Rafe was asked for the “gay perspective”, and random girls at school approach Rafe to get “gay” input on current events.

Finally, Rafe decides to change his life and enrolls at the Natick School, an all-boys boarding school in Massachusetts. Tiny detail he neglects to share with his parents: At Natick, he intends to not be gay. That is, he’ll still know he’s gay, but he’s not going to tell anyone. He’s tired of being seen first and foremost as gay, rather than just as Rafe, and he’s determined to start fresh with a new school and see what it’s like to just be one of the guys.

And at first, it’s kind of brilliant. He gets invited to play football! He’s accepted by the jocks! Guys include him in their guy-talk, and he’s seen as that cool new kid from Colorado. But as Rafe forms one particularly close friendship with a truly wonderful boy, the downside of his plan becomes apparent. Can he form a real friendship — and maybe more — when he’s hiding such a key piece of himself from the world? When does not telling — a passive act of omission — turn into actively lying?

It’s quite the dilemma. When Rafe finally tells his parents and Claire Olivia what he’s doing, they’re appalled and question him about going back in the closet. Rafe states that he’s not back in the closet; he knows who he is, but he chooses to keep it private — but is he just fooling himself? On the one hand, it’s easy to see the appeal for Rafe. Finally, he’s able to make friends and go through school without labels. He’s just the new kid, a decent soccer player, pretty fun to hang around, but not especially different than the rest of the gang. Rafe is careful to keep his head down. Despite his interest in writing, he declines to join the literary magazine for fear of drawing the jocks’ attention to his non-jock-like interests. And yet, as the school year progresses, Rafe comes up against more and more situations that make him uncomfortable, and the lies start piling up.

There’s a love story at the heart of Openly Straight, and it’s beautifully told, from the first moments when the eye contact lasts longer than Rafe expects, through the soul-baring late night conversations between two friends. Rafe’s love interest is a straight (until now) boy who has a heart of gold, and eventually it’s clear to both of them that their friendship has moved beyond brotherhood into some new and unknown territory. Except, of course, it’s not really unknown to Rafe, and because he started off school “openly straight”, the other boy believes that they’re exploring something new together while Rafe knows that for him, it’s not just exploration — it’s something he’s sure of. Heartbreak is inevitable, and boy, when it comes, it’s devastating.

Rafe is a smart, wonderful, lovable main character. Through his first-person narration, we can easily understand why he makes the choices that he makes, even as we wonder whether those choices will come back to bite him. (Obviously, they do). What’s wonderful about Openly Straight is that Rafe really struggles to do right. He doesn’t want to deceive, and he refuses to feel shame. But he can’t avoid the question — and neither can we as readers — whether anything he does and any connections he makes are actually real if he’s only sharing a part of who he is.

There aren’t any easy answers for Rafe. The deeper he gets, the more he realizes that he’s trapped himself in a situation that can only go badly. No matter how much he wants to fix things, some hurts and deceptions leave permanent marks. Does Rafe learn from his choices and his mistakes? Absolutely. But there are still consequences, and I suppose part of growing up is learning that good intentions don’t necessarily override damage done.

Openly Straight makes some great points without ever feeling heavy-handed, as when a boy in English class claims that Natick is a “tolerant” place, and the teacher questions the intention of the words “tolerate” and “accept”:

I thought about that. It reminded me of the excerpt from Edmund White’s A Boy’s Own Story that Mr. Scarborough had assigned us. White had talked about the strange sort of tolerance his roommates had had for him back at his boarding school in the 1950s. I remembered underlining the word tolerance. I mean, if you accept something, you take it for what it is. Tolerance is different. Less. So is acceptance at the top of the pyramid? Is that what everyone wants in the best of all possible worlds? Acceptance? I rolled the idea around in my head. It didn’t feel right, somehow.

For Rafe, part of his growth in the story is coming to the realization that acceptance isn’t enough; it’s being welcomed and celebrated for yourself — all parts of who you are and what makes you you — that really is the goal. And while he’s been comfortable being out for years, Rafe has to wonder whether he’s been accepting who he is all along without fully celebrating his own self. By the book’s end, Rafe is taking definite strides toward a new way of being open and being who he is — with less worry about how others see him, and a new commitment to interacting with the world while showing his real self.

Openly Straight is a lovely, funny, sweet book that moves along quickly yet gives its characters room to breathe and live. I felt like I really knew Rafe (and I often wanted to hug him and tell that everything would work out). With relatable characters and a unique premise, this book challenges the reader in very interesting ways. Many books in the YA market today tell a version of the coming-out tale; what makes this book so special is that it deals with life after coming out. Rafe’s journey is relevant to anyone, gay or straight, who’s had to deal with fitting in, wondering how others see them, and figuring out just how they want to be seen.

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The details:

Title: Openly Straight
Author: Bill Konigsberg
Publisher: Arthur A. Levine Books
Publication date: June 2013
Genre: Young Adult
Source: Well, it’s kind of a funny story. I was approved to read a review copy of this book, but was unable to access it. (Thank you anyway to NetGalley and the publisher!). In the end, I borrowed this book from the library. So it goes. And given how much I loved the book, I’m sure I’ll end up buying it one of these days!

6Aug2013

Book Review: When You Were Here by Daisy Whitney

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: When You Were Here by Daisy Whitney

When You Were Here The death of a parent hits hard in this moving young adult novel by Daisy Whitney. Danny Kellerman, high school senior and class valedictorian, watched his mother slip away from him after a five-year battle with cancer. Despite telling Danny that she was holding on for his graduation, she passed away two months before the big event, and Danny has been walking through life in a fog ever since. He’s financially well-provided for, but that’s about the only thing going right for him. Danny’s father died in a sudden accident years earlier, and his older sister Laini walked away from the family soon after that. Even the love of Danny’s life, girl-next-door Holland who promised to love him forever, dumped him abruptly a month after she started college. Danny’s only source of comfort is his loyal dog Sandy Koufax, but it’s not enough. After blowing up on stage at graduation, smashing a car, and watching his friends celebrate life while he views it all from a haze of numbness, Danny knows something has to give. When he receives a letter from the caretaker of his family’s Tokyo apartment, hinting at a secret life his mother lived during trips to Japan for medical treatments, Danny decides that a summer in Tokyo might be just what he needs to get himself back on track and figure out what he has left.

Secrets abound in Tokyo. Why did everyone who encountered his mom remember her as being so happy? What did the mysterious doctor prescribe for her that gave her so much hope? And why, once he arrives in Tokyo, does Danny keep uncovering bits and pieces of his mom’s life there that make no sense to him?

As Danny explains to Kana, the girl who seems to have insight into his mother’s time in Japan:

“And I guess, most of all, I want to understand why nothing’s working for me. Why she was the happy one when she was dying, and I just can’t seem to manage anything when I’m living.”

When You Were Here is less about death and dying than about life and living. I found it very sad to read about Danny’s pain and loneliness — and yet I was also filled with admiration for this boy who held his home together while the most important person in his life was suffering. Danny makes no pretense about his love for his mother, and yes, the circumstances are extraordinary (how many teen-aged boys take their mothers to chemo treatments and clean up when they’re sick?), but it’s still quite touching to read his unembarrassed statements about her role in his life.

Likewise, Danny’s love for Holland is strong and true , despite the pain he experiences over what he sees as her desertion. Again, he is refreshingly honest about his feelings when it comes to Holland, and that’s a nice treat in a book about a boy of that age.

I did feel that the book veered a bit close to preachiness in parts, as Danny comes to certain realizations about his mother. The takeaway message that gets hammered home is that what counts is how you live your life, not how long you live, and that we need to find happiness in our small moments rather than focus on sorrow. That’s valid, but at times it did feel a bit heavy-handed.

That’s a minor quibble, however. Ultimately, by digging into his mother’s secrets, Danny is able to reconnect with feeling — feeling anything, both joy and sadness — rather than walking through life numb and alone. As Danny opens himself back up to emotions, he makes important discoveries about his mother, his sister, Holland, and himself, and finds a path forward past mourning and into a new future for himself.

When You Were Here is not a long book, but it is lovingly written and full of honesty and depth. Danny is a smart, likeable character, and it’s hard not to ache for him as we read about how much he’s already had to go through at such a young age. When You Were Here presents a portrait of a teen in a unique situation, and shows the power of love in all its varieties and shades to heal unfathomable hurts and to forge connections that might seem impossible. Don’t miss it.

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The details:

Title: When You Were Here
Author: Daisy Whitney
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Publication date: June 2013
Genre: Young Adult
Source: Won in a giveaway! (with thanks to The Perpetual Page-Turner)

3Aug2013

Book Review: The Shade of the Moon by Susan Beth Pfeffer

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: The Shade of the Moon by Susan Beth Pfeffer

The Shade of the Moon (The Last Survivors, #4)

The Shade of the Moon is a continuation of Susan Beth Pfeffer’s Last Survivors series, which began with Life As We Knew It, The Dead and the Gone, and This World We Live In.

In the first three books in the series, the Evans family is the primary focus as they live through a horrific global disaster. When an asteroid strikes the moon and knocks it closer to Earth, “life as we knew it” comes to an end, as the changed gravitational forces lead to tsunamis, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions — which in turn lead to an ash layer blocking the sun and causing world-wide winter. Agriculture fails, civilization begins to fall apart, and day-to-day survival is constantly a struggle.

The Shade of the Moon picks up four years after the original asteroid strike, and three years after the end of the original trilogy of books. The first three books revolved around teen daughter Miranda; in The Shade of the Moon, Miranda is a background character as the focus is now on her younger brother Jon. Jon was always the baby of the family, but as the story opens, he is now 17 years old, living in an enclave of the privileged — people deemed so important to the future of mankind that they live in guarded communities with access to food, clean air, nice homes, and health care. The not-so-fortunate live outside the enclave but work as laborers — although the “clavers” refer to the laborer population as “grubs”, which gives you a pretty good idea of the esteem in which they hold them.

Jon is a “claver” because he is a “slip” — through a connection, he was able to get a pass to live in the enclave, even though he doesn’t come from an important family or have the status of true clavers. Because he’s a slip, he has to constantly be on guard not to mess up, not to go against the grain. Protesting the treatment of grubs, especially as a slip, is a sure way to get himself, and probably his loved ones too, thrown out of the enclave and sent to the mines, or worse.

My question as I began reading The Shade of the Moon was: When did my disaster book turn into a dystopian novel?? This was not exactly what I’d expected, and not really what I was looking for. What I found so compelling in the first three books was the story of a family’s struggle for survival. It was quite a human story, with parents sacrificing for their children, children forced to grow up too quickly, people coming together in adversity and wondering whether a future would exist for any of them.

In The Shade of the Moon, life has moved on, but the survivors now live in a caste-based society in which human life has little or no value, at least if the humans in question are grubs. Claver boys are encouraged to go raise hell in the grubber town — and it’s clear that their version of fun involves random beatings, arson, and even rape. Clavers debate whether the grubs should have a clinic in their town — why waste resources on them? The grubs may have had lives of note before (Jon’s housekeeper is a former professor of philosophy), but that doesn’t matter. Clavers have domestics to manage their households, and domestics can be beaten, starved, and mistreated in myriad ways, so long as their productivity isn’t compromised.

In reading the Last Survivors books, I accepted the premise even if I wasn’t sure whether the science of the global disaster was at all realistic. In The Shade of the Moon, it’s not the science, but the sociology, that has me puzzled. I’ve certainly read plenty of books set in dystopian societies; that’s not the problem. The issue for me in The Shade of the Moon is how quickly this new dystopia has become the norm. It’s only been four years since the initial disaster, and less than that since the enclaves were set up and developed. Frankly, that just doesn’t seem like enough time for such a dramatic change in beliefs and attitudes to have become so strongly internalized by the people in this world. The members of the enclave don’t just enforce the caste system as a means of self-preservation — they truly believe that “grubs” are less, are not fully human, and are not worthy of adequate food or even a decent burial. Ultimately, I didn’t buy it, and my inability to suspend my disbelief was a constant distraction from the story itself.

That said, The Shade of the Moon is fast-paced, and once I got past the early chapters, it was compelling enough to make me keep going and to want to know how it would all turn out. Author Susan Beth Pfeffer doesn’t pull any punches, and she certainly isn’t kind to the characters we come to care about. The members of the extended Evans family are all wonderful and rich characters, but that doesn’t protect them from the very bad things that come their way in this book. I understand that young adult fiction needs a teen lead character, but Jon is less interesting to me than the rest of his family — and after spending the previous books with Miranda, I missed her throughout The Shade of the Moon, in which she’s older and therefore only relevant to the story as she relates to Jon and his struggles. The Shade of the Moon is also yet another YA book that features an “insta-love” relationship, and I just didn’t buy that either.

If you’ve read the first three books, should you read The Shade of the Moon? Mixed feelings on this question. This new book isn’t so much a continuation of the previous story as a new direction entirely. You’re not necessarily missing out if you don’t continue — but if dystopian settings appeal to you, then you might want to give The Shade of the Moon a try.

In fact, The Shade of the Moon may even work (possibly better) as a stand-alone. Once you understand the backstory, it can be read as a novel of a dystopian world, and while the family connections may not be as clear or powerful, the plot itself works along the lines of all the other “dystopians” in the market — a cruel, divided society with harsh rules, a courageous young person or two willing to risk their own safety in order to make a stand, and hey, even a love story!

It was unclear to me at the end whether there will be more books in the series, although I suspect that there will be. I suppose I’d like to know what happens to the characters and whether their lives improve, but I’m not sure that I’d feel all that compelled to continue. I’d recommend The Shade of the Moon for those who particularly enjoy the dystopian society genre — but if “dystopians” aren’t your thing, I’d say this one is not a must-read.

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The details:

Title: The Shade of the Moon
Author: Susan Beth Pfeffer
Publisher: HMH Books for Young Readers
Publication date: August 13, 2013
Source: Review copy courtesy of Edelweiss, in exchange for my honest review.

2Aug2013

Book Review: Out Of The Easy by Ruta Sepetys

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: Out Of The Easy by Ruta Sepetys

Out of the Easy

In New Orleans in 1950, being the daughter of a prostitute is a guarantee that you’ll never amount to much. But 17-year-old Josie Moraine intends to change her fate. Raised more by the tough-but-loving brothel madam Willie than by her own careless mother, Josie is whip-smart and determined. A hard worker, Josie cleans the brothel each morning, brings Willie all the miscellaneous objects she finds along the way, then works in a bookshop alongside handsome Patrick before retiring to her small bedroom upstairs in the store.

Josie sailed through school, mostly friendless due to constant mocking and disdain about her mother, and is saving up for a college education, even though she realizes that the odds of actually attending college are not in her favor. Meanwhile, Josie knows everyone in the French Quarter and everyone seems to know her.

When two strangers enter Josie’s world, her life suddenly changes as she realizes that people can see the good in her and treat her with respect and kindness. But as Josie sets new goals for herself and starts planning an escape, her old life seems to hold her more and more tightly, and no matter how she struggles, she keeps getting sucked back down into the dirt and squalor of life in the Quarter.

The plot of Out of the Easy follows Josie’s fight to claim a new life for herself, as she deals with a murder investigation, abandonment, threats, and betrayal, extortion, loss, illicit propositions, and the glimmer of a chance at love.

That sounds like a lot, doesn’t it?

This is definitely not your typical young adult novel. Josie does not live in a world of black-and-white morals, and she doesn’t always make the best decisions. She’s dealing with the life she was dealt, and she really does pretty well for herself. How many seventeen-year-olds could live on their own, make their own way, deal with corruption every day without succumbing to it, and still dream of a better life?

The essence of life in the Quarter is sharply painted through the author’s descriptions of the sights, the smells, the sounds. There’s a grittiness and joy amidst the decadence and dirt, and the people in Josie’s world know how to live their lives to the fullest. Along the way, we meet servants, prostitutes, “information men”, and johns, and most are well-developed characters in their own right, making Josie’s world feel very lived in and real. Madam Willie is especially memorable, if a bit stereotypical, as the sharp-tongued, sharp-nailed businesswoman who scolds Josie yet loves her dearly and makes sure her destiny does not lie within the walls of a whorehouse.

Unfortunately, while I enjoyed the plot and the characters, the writing style got in the way quite a bit. For me, it came down to the old writing advice of “show, don’t tell” — and I felt that there was just too much “telling” going on in Out of the Easy. The sentence structure throughout was repetitive, with declarative sentences telling events in line after line:

I took a deep breath and stepped back. I started humming. Charlie stopped bucking. I continued humming and once again picked the towel up off the floor. I walked behind Charlie… I applied pressure to his forehead… I heard the key in the lock…

Those are lines from a page chosen at random, but I can literally open to any page and find the same pattern of noun/verb, noun/verb, noun/verb throughout the entire book. And yet, despite the focus on action sentences, much of the action happens “off-screen” or is resolved within a page or two. We find out through other characters’ conversations about a key development with Josie’s mother; we are introduced to a major threat to Josie — and then see it easily resolved within a chapter. Something about the writing style just left me feeling unsatisfied — it felt more like reading a journal about a set of events rather than being allowed to enter a fictional world and be swept away by it.

And yet, there are some lovely smaller moments. Early on, Josie goes to a rich-people’s party Uptown, and notices a table filled with family photos in sterling frames:

I stared at the pictures. If someone meant something to you, you put their photo in a silver frame and displayed it, like these. I had never seen anything like it. Willie didn’t have any framed photos. Neither did Mother.

Toward the end of the story, it’s significant that Josie does at that point finally have a few cherished photos in frames of their own. It’s a small moment, one presented without much fuss, but it gives a hint at the power of the story and the writer’s ability to create emotions and impact out of a few low-key details.

Overall, I enjoyed Out of the Easy and have no hesitation about recommending it. Still, I felt that there was a certain momentum lacking in the story and in the depth of the characters. I found the setting unusual and interesting, and the characters are a memorable and flavorful bunch, but there was something in the writing that kept me at a distance from the heart of the story throughout the book — so that ultimately, although I was interested, I walked away feeling unsatisfied. I suppose I expected more; what I got was fine, but it just wasn’t as strong or as deep as I’d hoped.

26Jul2013

Book Review: If If Ever Get Out Of Here by Eric Gansworth

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: If If Ever Get Out Of Here by Eric Gansworth

In If I Ever Get Out Of Here, main character Lewis Blake faces yet another lonely year as the only Native American kid in the all-white smart kids’ class at the local junior high school. As a rez kid in 1975 Buffalo, New York, Lewis knows that 7th grade will probably bring more of the same for him — sitting alone, talking to no one all day until he rides the school bus back to the Tuscarora reservation with the kids he grew up with. Much to his surprise, though, one of the new kids from the town military base doesn’t seem to care that they’re from different worlds, and the two boys soon strike up a friendship over their love of the Beatles and Paul McCartney.

But friendship only extends so far. George and his family welcome Lewis into their home and their lives, but Lewis just can’t quite bring himself to return the favor. Lewis lives with his mother and uncle on the reservation in a house that’s literally falling apart around them, and he’s sure that George would drop him in an instant if he ever got a real sense of just how poverty-stricken Lewis really is.

If I Ever Get Out Of Here is both a coming-of-age story and a portrait of Native American life. In it, the author vividly describes the challenges faced by the children of the reservation, who may attend the white schools but know that they’ll never really leave the rez. In this pre-PC world, outright racism is common in the local community, and when Lewis is targeted by a much-feared bully who’s known for his hatred of “Indians”, none of the adults are willing to intervene. It’s up to Lewis to take a stand, and his bravery leads to both triumph and betrayals as the repercussions are felt throughout the school and the town.

Above everything, If I Ever Get Out Of Here celebrates two universal forces for good: Sincere, unwavering friendship, and the power of rock and roll. George and Lewis are good kids with their heads on (mostly) straight, who understand the importance of family, and who’ve grown up in one form of isolation or another. They bond and connect with a sense of trust that moves beyond the barriers of race and economic class. What truly brings them together, however, is the music, and this book is saturated with the delight of discovering something new and true through the grooves of a vinyl album.

George and his father manage to find tickets to a Paul McCartney and Wings concert in Toronto (although Lewis has to endure the comment from a friend’s dad, “Hope you didn’t get scalped,” complete with hand gestures illustrating just what a scalping would look like). Yet once the concert starts, all the stresses of being the lone Indian among a sea of white people fade away, as Lewis observes the awesome glory of being in a crowd at the perfect rock concert:

The guy next to me grabbed me by the armpit and insisted that I stand on my seat. I was short enough that doing this didn’t make me much taller than anyone else, but I still crouched a little to even the view for the guy directly behind me. A minute or so later, that guy tapped me on the shoulder and yelled that I was fine standing. He was tall enough to see… The strangers around me made me one of them. It was almost like being home on the reservation, and I let myself enjoy the surging excitement.

The Beatles, Wings, Queen, Bowie — these form the soundtrack of the boys’ lives during their junior high school years (and provide the chapter titles in If I Ever Get Out Of Here), and the author thoughtfully provides us with a detailed, lovingly compiled playlist at the back of the book.

This young adult novel strikes me as appropriate perhaps for older middle-grade readers as well, although they may be less familiar with the historical elements that come to life here. In all the different facets of life facing Lewis, the settings ring true. The casual racism and cruelty experienced by Lewis may be shocking to young readers raised in today’s more aware society, but the fear and pain caused by bullying are certainly something that kids of any era would be able to relate to.

Written as a first-person narrative using straight-forward language, If I Ever Get Out Of Here lets us inside Lewis’s head and Lewis’s world, and both are fascinating places to be. As a visit back in time and to a world that most white Americans either can’t or don’t want to see, this book engages the reader’s heart and mind. Lewis is a terrific main character — not a perfect boy by any means, but an overall really good kid who is proud of his people but doesn’t want to be confined by old rules. If I Ever Get Out Of Here vividly captures the dichotomy experienced by the Native American youth who feel a deep sense of belonging within their communities on the reservation — but whose opportunities for better lives lie elsewhere.

I recommend this book for teens and adults alike. The people feel real, the dialogue and events capture the essence of the 1970s, and the music just makes it all come to life. Most of all, it’s a tribute to true friendship — the kind that’s loyal, steadfast, and lifelong — and the difference it can make in a lonely boy’s life.

Review copy courtesy of Scholastic via NetGalley. I received a copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.

24Jul2013

Book Review: The Book of Secrets by Elizabeth Joy Arnold

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: The Book of Secrets by Elizabeth Joy Arnold

Childhood secrets, the ugliness behind a serene family facade, imagination unleashed by the beauty of good books — all are key elements of the exquisite new novel The Book of Secrets written by Elizabeth Joy Arnold.

Chloe’s life changed forever on her eighth birthday when she met the mysterious, wonderful Sinclair children. Scrubbed and wholesome in a hopelessly old-fashioned way, living in a secluded country home in California redwood territory, home-schooled by a kind and creative mother, siblings Grace, Nate, and Cecilia welcomed Chloe into their hearts, and from that moment on, they became the center of Chloe’s life.

As the book opens, Chloe is in her mid-forties, struggling with the tensions of her 25-year marriage to Nate. Chloe and Nate have loved each other since childhood, but a tragedy in their early days together has created a permanent hole that neither knows how to fill. When Chloe finds a note from Nate saying that he’s suddenly gone back to his childhood home to deal with a family matter, she is shocked and dismayed. That home was the site of their nightmare, and she can’t imagine why he’d consent to return. Unsure what to believe, Chloe searches for clues, and finally finds a secret notebook, filled with a coded sort of language written by Nate, tucked inside a hollowed-out copy of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. Chloe struggles to decipher Nate’s writing, sure that it will help her understand his sudden departure — but unsure whether she truly wants to unearth secrets from their awful past.

As Chloe cracks the code through the use of favorite childhood books, the narrative shifts back and forth between Chloe’s present-day struggle to understand the secrets that have undermined her marriage and the past, full of hidden family drama and dysfunction, as well as the delights of first love and devoted friendship.

The Book of Secrets explores themes of family, faith, and imagination, and peers into the heart of a marriage — what holds it together, what makes it fall apart. The secrets revealed in The Book of Secrets are huge and devastating, and it amazes me that Chloe and Nate survived as a couple at all.

The writing in this book is quite lovely, full of descriptions that vividly convey the wonders of childhood, full of play (digging a hole to London to try to go visit C. S. Lewis), journeys to the fantasy worlds of books, puzzles, and hidden codes, and the pure certainty of love that flows between Chloe and the three Sinclair children. The book is also a charming tribute to the power of good books, amply illustrating how books can inspire and transform, provide escape and solutions.

Ultimately, there is a mystery at the heart of The Book of Secrets — what happened 25 years ago, and what has Nate been hiding from Chloe all these years? (I’m being deliberately vague, I know. This is yet another book that I think is best read with as little knowledge beforehand as possible.) The tension builds and builds, and as Chloe finds herself reexamining long-held beliefs based on new information that she uncovers, we as readers have to readjust our understanding of events as well.

The ending is tension-filled, dramatic, and just as it should be. I did more or less figure out the general shape that the ending would take well ahead of time, but that didn’t matter in the slightest. Even though I was right on the money about the “what”, the “how” and “why” were surprising, shocking, and yet made total sense in the context of the story.

This is a perfect book for book lovers. Not only is the story of Nate and Chloe and their family secrets compelling and well-written, but the obvious adoration that the author feels for reading and its magic shines through on every page.

Review copy courtesy of Bantam Books via NetGalley.

21Jul2013

Book Review: Mist by Susan Krinard

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: Mist by Susan Krinard

Mist (Mist, #1)

Mist is a mix of urban fantasy and Norse mythology. For me, the combination — at least as presented here — just doesn’t work.

After a promising prologue set in a snowy wasteland along a Norwegian border during World War II, the action jumps to modern day San Francisco — and the story falls apart from there.

Main character Mist is a Valkyrie, who after the final great battle of the gods is left to wander Earth protecting one of Odin’s treasures. She’s beautiful (of course!), can kick butt, and is burdened with a tremendous sense of both guilt and responsibility. After keeping a low profile for decades, Mist starts noticing odd signs and portents, as well as bizarrely cold weather, and soon discovers that Midgard (Earth) is under assault by frost giants, the Jotunar. Perhaps the old world isn’t quite as dead as Mist believed, but there’s no time to sit and ponder. Attacks on Mist and her associates begin to multiply, and before long Mist realizes that Midgard may well become little more than the next battleground for a mighty confrontation of the Aesir, the Norse pantheon of gods and goddesses.

Mist lives in San Francisco, training with swords and working on her fighting skills, until all hell breaks loose when the frost giant Hrimgrimir and an unexpected elf show up in her world. From this point forward, Mist spends most of her time racing around the city, getting into fights, assembling a team of allies, and figuring out who she can count on — and which people are not as trustworthy as they seem. There’s tons of action, confrontations, emotional scenes of betrayal and alliances… but I don’t know, it was incredibly difficult to follow.

So why didn’t I enjoy this book? Several obvious problems, for starters.

Problem 1: The first several chapters read like one gigantic info-dump. The exposition is jam-packed with names and details, and if you’re not already familiar with Odin, Freya, Valkyries, Einherjar, Aesir, Ragnarok — and on and on — you may find your eyes glazing over, as mine did. Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop my thoughts from straying to these guys:

Note: Thor does not make an appearance in Mist, although he does get name-dropped. Still, talk to me about Norse mythology and Odin, and this is where my brain goes. And Loki? Yes, he’s quite important in Mist — and despite the author’s descriptions that seem to indicate otherwise, every time I read about Loki, I picture Tom Hiddleston.

Problem 2: So what exactly are Mist’s powers? What are the rules? She can guard the Treasures, but not use them? She can be hurt, but she can heal, so is she immortal? She’s strong, but can be defeated in battle — can she be killed? She can use runes, and apparently has access to all sorts of magic, but she’s less powerful than some and more powerful than others. And what about the rest of the Norse mythological characters who show up? Same questions apply, and not all answers are clear. In order for me to get behind Mist as the hero of the story and really care about her struggles and her fate, I have to feel that I understand her… and I don’t. Magical worlds are great, but it’s important to get a sense of the rules of the magic involved if the world is to be convincing. It was practically impossible to tell what each character’s limits and powers are, so that their stories seemed a bit arbitrary to me, changing or discovering new magical talents as the need arose in the story.

Problem 3: One thing that drove (ha! you’ll see) me batty was that the author seemed to be trying to prove that she really knows San Francisco by constantly providing a turn-by-turn set of directions every time Mist had to get from place A to place B:

Without really thinking about her destination, Mist turned north on Third Street and left on Sixteenth Street toward Golden Gate Park on the other side of the city… She parked along Lincoln Way, got out of the car, and entered the park from Nineteenth Avenue.

And a few chapters later:

She pressed the Volvo to its limits, reaching eighty as the car crossed over Highway 101. She flew along the Embarcadero Freeway and raced down the Twentieth Street exit ramp. She screeched right on Twentieth, crossed Third on a yellow light, and made a hard right on Illinois.

Thanks, but I have a GPS for that.

Mist is supposedly the first book in a series, and so it doesn’t end with a definitive conclusion. Instead, the final section of the book mostly deals with team-building, as Mist assembles allies to join her in the coming fight against Loki and whatever array of baddies will join him in the fight to take over Midgard.

Overall, the book felt like all plot with no strong underpinnings of character or context. I generally enjoy urban fantasy, but didn’t feel that I had enough to go on with Mist. The characters seemed too vaguely defined, and therefore unknowable. Interestingly, Loki was the only character I felt I could get a handle on; he’s a trickster, he’s scheming and manipulative, and that’s something that remains consistent throughout the book. Without the ability to really understand Mist herself or her allies, it was hard to invest in the story.

I’m sure that there are readers who will have a very different opinion of Mist than I did. People already conversant with the names and terminology pertaining to Norse mythology may not mind the unwieldy exposition and info-dumping — and may not need to refer back to Wikipedia and D’Aulaires’ Book of Norse Myths as often as I did. Plus, fans of urban fantasy may enjoy the many fight scenes and chase scenes that compose much of the plot.

For me, the truth is that I had to struggle to finish reading Mist, and if not for the fact that I’d received this as a review copy, I might have walked away after the first few chapters. I stuck with it to see if it would get any better — sadly, I never felt that the story really built into anything I could connect with or invest in, and by the end I was just reading it for the sake of finishing.

Disclaimer: Review copy courtesy of Macmillan-Tor/Forge via NetGalley. I received this review copy in exchange for an honest review.

20Jul2013

Book Review: Gorgeous by Paul Rudnick

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: Gorgeous by Paul Rudnick

I’ll be honest: When I first heard about Gorgeous, I was quite skeptical about the chances that I’d actually like it. I mean — magical dresses? The fashion world? Um, no.

Fortunately, I decided to check it out anyway, and to see for myself what all the buzz was about. And I’m happy that I did. Gorgeous is definitely about inner beauty, the traps that fame can bring, and finding out who you are and what you want. It’s sweet and funny all at the same time, and never drags for a second.

So what’s it all about? In a nutshell:

Becky Randle, age 18, grew up in a trailer park in Missouri. As Gorgeous opens, Becky’s reclusive, morbidly obese mother has just died, and Becky is left on her own. Becky has never had what you’d call confidence — she’s self-conscious about her looks and her economic status, and mostly moves through life with her head down, trying not to be noticed. Becky considers herself plain and mousy, and nobody really disagrees with her on that. Her one true friend, Rocher (yes, named for the chocolates!) is her biggest supporter, but Becky is absolutely adrift after her mother’s death…

…until she finds a mysterious phone number hidden away amongst her mother’s belongings, calls it, and is invited to New York, all expenses paid, where some sort of secret — or perhaps an opportunity — will be revealed. Before her death, Becky’s mother made her make a promise:

“[S]omething is going to happen to you. And it’s going to be magical.”

She was gripping my hand very tightly and looking right into my eyes. “And it might be scary and you might not know what it means, not at first. But it’s going to change your life, forever. And Becky, I want you to swear to me, because I love you so much, and because you deserve everything, you deserve the whole world, so Becky, when the magic shows up — I want you to say yes.”

So Becky says yes, and finds herself in New York in the secret compound of mysterious superstar designer Tom Kelly, who offers Becky a deal: He’ll make her three dresses, which she’ll wear when and where he dictates, and in return, he’ll make her the most beautiful woman in the world. Becky decides to take a chance — it’s that or go back to Missouri and spend her time as a supermarket cashier — and thanks to a magnificent red dress and some killer shoes, is in fact tranformed into Rebecca Randle. Rebecca really is the most beautiful woman in the world, and becomes an instant superstar. One catch? She’s still Becky on the inside. So long as other people are with her, Becky sees Rebecca when she looks in the mirror — but alone, she sees plain old Becky, who still has lank, uncooperative hair and gains weight when Rebecca overindulges on sweets.

But wait! There’s a final condition to be met. Becky’s glamorous life as Rebecca will end after one year unless she manages to fall in love and get married before the year is up. Becky is, of course, a little angry about this requirement — really, marry at age 18? But life as Rebecca is a non-stop whirlwind full of celebrities, special treatment, and all the attention she could ever want. Everything is possible, and after a chance encounter, Becky decides to aim high: She decides that she’ll marry Prince Gregory, heir to the British throne — and a nice, funny, adorable guy to boot.

Needless to say, complications upon complications ensue. Can Rebecca really be accepted by the royal family and the British people? Can she pull this off before the year is up? And wait — it’s not enough to just get married. Can Rebecca really have fallen in love with Prince Gregory, or is this just the next natural step on her meteoric rise to fame and fortune?

Enough with the plot details! I won’t give anything else away. Gorgeous is a delight to read, in so many ways. Author Paul Rudnick is a deft writer, putting words in Becky’s mouth that actually feel right for an 18-year-old girl. Becky has a terrific sense of humor, and even as beautiful Rebecca, it’s when she lets her inner Becky out — full of snark and wit — that she’s most likeable and captivating.

I won’t say how the royal pursuit turns out… but much of it hinges on Becky’s dilemma. If Prince Gregory does in fact fall for her, how can she ever know if it’s really the true Becky he loves? Would he love her if she didn’t look like Rebecca? And if she can get everything she dreams of, will it really make her happy if it’s all based on a false face and body?

Becky is a fabulous character. She’s a daughter who loves and cherishes her mother, and it’s her commitment to her mother’s memory — as well as the promise of answers to the mystery of her mother’s life — that drives Becky forward and motivates her to stick with the crazy life offered by Tom Kelly. Becky is smart and wickedly funny, and sees Rebecca’s instant power and influence as a means to an end, hoping to model herself after her mother’s idol, the late Princess Alicia (this novel’s stand-in for Princess Diana) and use her worldwide celebrity to advance the causes of those who need help.

I loved Becky’s friendship with Rocher, who is crass, brash, and a constant supporter of Becky — despite her tendency to gush over celebrities and cause minor and major uproars at the nicest of events. Prince Gregory is a prince of a guy, and I could understand how Becky would fall — not just for his royalty and status but for his self-deprecating humor, compassion and caring.

Gorgeous is a lovely modern-day fairy tale. Yes, it does require quite a suspension of disbelief. (Magical dresses!!!) I’m not sure that the revelation of the hows and whys makes a whole lot of sense — but from an emotional point of view, it’s actually very sweet and moving. Ultimately, Becky has to decide for herself what kind of person she wants to be, and whether having outer beauty is worth the sacrifice of being herself. There’s a strong message in Gorgeous about the downside of celebrity and the rewards of honesty, without every being trite or hokey. And as a parent myself, I appreciated how central the role of family is in this story. Ultimately, it’s Becky’s mother’s love for her that drives the action of this story, and Becky finds her own answers and acceptance by understanding who her mother was and what she really wanted for her.

Gorgeous is aimed at the young adult market, but I’d have no hesitation in recommending this smart, funny book to teens and adults. Check it out! It’ll definitely make you laugh… and you might even find yourself a little teary-eyed along the way.

12Jul2013

Book Review: Joyland by Stephen King

Posted in Book Reviews by Lisa @ Bookshelf Fantasies

Book Review: Joyland by Stephen King

Joyland

Don’t let the pulp fiction sensationalism of the cover fool you: Joyland is, at heart, quite a lovely and nostalgic book.

Devin Jones is one heartbroken 21-year-old in the summer of 1973. No sooner does he take a job at a North Carolina beachside amusement park than his long-term girlfriend — his first love — dumps him for another guy. By letter. Left to lick his wounds, Devin immerses himself in the carny world. He learns the Talk, gets a crash-course on how to be a ride-jockey, and spends sweltering days “wearing the fur” — that is, dressed up as Howie the Happy Hound, mascot of Joyland, dancing the hokey-pokey with delighted crowds of kiddies.

Joyland is a sweet non-Disney-fied world of fun — non-corporate, old-timey, with an ancient owner who really just wants everyone to be happy. There’s a shadow beneath Joyland’s wholesome facade. Rumor has it that a ghost haunts the Horror House, ever since the murder of Linda Gray four years earlier. The crime was never solved, and so Linda waits… for justice, for vengeance, for recognition, for release. Or so the story goes.

Meanwhile, Devin finds friends and a place to forget his sorrows for a while, and come fall, when he should be returning to college, he makes the decision to join the year-round staff of Joyland and stick around for a while. Despite his deep-down loneliness, Dev finally begins to come out of his shell, thanks mostly to the unexpected connection he finds with a beautiful but isolated woman and her wheelchair-bound son. But he can’t quite shake his interest in the fate of Linda Gray, and the more he digs, the more he realizes that the murderer might still be around — perhaps even at Joyland.

So what did I think?

I guess it goes without saying that Stephen King can write. I mean, he could probably write a computer technical manual and you’d either be in tears or screaming in terror by the end. In Joyland, King’s writing is full of his trademark sense of longing for a time gone by. The story is told by Devin from the vantage point of a man in his sixties, looking back at a pivotal moment in his younger days, the summer in which he left behind his childhood innocence for good. We are immersed in the experience of a young man in love, and can feel his longing and his pain with each step, with each memory, with each sad song playing on Dev’s record player in his boarding house room. The writing is down-to-earth and yet lovely at the same time:

I’m not sure anybody ever gets completely over their first love, and that still rankles. Part of me still wants to know what was wrong with me. What I was lacking. I’m in my sixties now, my hair is gray and I’m a prostate cancer survivor, but I still want to know why I wasn’t good enough for Wendy Keegan.

The murder mystery itself is only a small part of the book. Devin’s compulsion to solve the murder is a thread that connects his experiences, but in actuality I’d say only about 25% or so of the plot really focuses on the crime and the ghost. Much more important is Dev’s involvement at Joyland, the friends he makes, and the bond he forms with Annie and Mike Ross. There’s a Summer of ’42 vibe in parts of the story (if you’ve seen the movie, you’ll know what I mean — I hope). Granted, Joyland takes place 30+ years later than the movie, but there are similar themes: innocent boy, one perfect summer, mysterious (beautiful) older woman… well, I won’t elaborate, but that’s what I kept thinking of as certain events developed in Joyland.

As for the murder, the climax is exciting — but feels a bit well-worn as well. The location, the circumstances, even the weather all feel a bit familiar, like something out of a drive-in flick from a few decades ago. Maybe that’s what Stephen King was shooting for? After all, the story is truly heavy on the nostalgia, with a wistful sensibility for the time and place it portrays. So perhaps the ending was designed to feel old-timey as well, in keeping with the overall mood and setting of the book? Something to ponder, anyway. The identity of the murderer wasn’t terribly shocking, if you go with the assumption (as I did) that he would have to be either a character we’d already met or someone closely connected to Joyland. I won’t give anything away here, but I will say that by the time the murderer is revealed, there really was only one other person it could possibly have been. Still, it unfolded in a believably scary and threatening way, and I enjoyed every bit of the big reveal and its aftermath.

Overall, Joyland is a terrific read. Devin makes a sympathetic, insightful narrator, and through his eyes, Joyland — which I suspect would appear a bit corny and shabby if we saw it on our own — appears to be a place of wonder and delight. The sensation of first love and first heartbreak are rendered with painful vividness, as is the simple pleasure to be found spending time in the company of good friends, walking on a deserted beach, or making a child smile.

My only quibble with this book is about the cover. Published by the Hard Case Crime division of Titan Books, the cover — with the tagline of “Who dares enter the FUNHOUSE OF FEAR?” — seems to promise a very different book than what Joyland actually delivers. The cover art is terrific — oh, that red-head in the little green dress! What horrors has she witnessed? Who is chasing her through the park? What did she photograph that’s so shocking? The problem is, none of these questions are relevant in the slightest, and the picture only has the vaguest of connections to the actual events in the book.

I’m no designer or artist (so be nice!), but I started playing around with old-timey amusement park photos, and I think either of these might do more justice to the actual story of Joyland:

Sure, neither screams “Stephen King” at you — which the real cover surely does, in its own way. Still, I think I’d have liked this book a smidge better if my expectations were more in line with the reality of the book from the start. Joyland is not pulp fiction, and it’s not even that much of a crime story. It’s nostalgic fiction about the end of innocence and the farewell to first love; it’s about growing up and confronting life; and it’s about people and connections.

Cover quibbles aside, Joyland is a perfect summer read. It’s quick, it’s absorbing, and really, what says summer more than a beachside amusement park?