Food for thought: Does the author matter?

Well, of course the author matters! We wouldn’t have books in our hands without authors!

But hold up. That’s not what I’m talking about.

What I’m really pondering is whether or how much the details of an author’s life influence our reactions to a book.

For the most part, I usually take the stance that once the author has released a book, the book should stand on its own and be judged on its own merits. It’s what’s in the book itself that counts. So if an author makes a statement that I think is ridiculous during an  interview, or if I find out that the author has a political stance that I object to, does it matter?

Well, sometimes. I don’t research authors’ personal views before deciding to read their books. In general, who cares? So long as the book appeals to me, touches me, or makes me think, I don’t particularly need to know more.

On the other hand, if I knew that a particular author was out there promoting hate, or had a bias or prejudice that he/she actively promotes, or uses the revenues from his/her books to fund something I find objectionable, then yes, I guess it does matter. Although… (and this just shows my ambivalence on the subject), I suppose a work-around on the funding issue might be to borrow the book from the library, rather than buying my own copy.

I’d like to think that the work of art stands on its own and can be appreciated even if the artist is abhorrent, but in practice, that doesn’t always work for me. I mean, if I find out that an author is a no-question-about-it homophobe or anti-Semite or racist, then I just really can’t.

And also, it’s not like an author’s bio or background is completely irrelevant. If someone writes about a complex medical issue, for example, knowing that the author has a Ph.D. in a relevant field might make me feel more confident that the scientific elements of the storyline are plausible. Knowing that Mary Doria Russell has a doctorate in anthropology helps me appreciate the fabulous work she’s done in The Sparrow, exploring issues related to first contact with unknown cultures, social structures and hierarchies, and the impact of exploration on native populations. (PS – I probably haven’t raved about The Sparrow for a while, so let me just take a moment to say READ THIS BOOK. It’s amazing.)

Anyway…

I’ve now wandered far afield from what started me thinking about this topic, which is my thoughts on reading Eragon by Christopher Paolini. You can check out my review here.

Christopher Paolini was about 15 when he wrote Eragon, so I’m guessing he must be somewhere around 30 by now. To what extent should reviewers take his age into account when writing about Eragon?

As a reader, if I knew nothing about the author, I’d be thinking that the book is pretty derivative, a giant mash-up of every standard fantasy trope, repackaged into an overlong book that lacks narrative flow and uses very awkward language. But — the author wrote this book when he was 15! According to author info found online, he originally wrote Eragon for his own entertainment, trying to create something he’d enjoy, and the book was self-published by his parents prior to being “discovered” and picked up by a major publisher, then achieving bestseller status.

Eragon was published in 2002. That’s a lot of years ago! So in reviewing Eragon today, in 2015, is it still relevant that the book was written by a teen? On the one hand, I say kudos are in order for the young man who wrote such a detailed and complicated story at such a young age. At the same time, if I were strictly considering whether I’d recommend the book, then the age of the author is irrelevant. What counts is the book itself, and whether I think others would enjoy it. Period.

Here’s another weird example: I really loved Before I Go To Sleep by S. J. Watson when I read it a couple of years ago, and just finished reading the author’s second novel, Second Life, this past week. All along, I’ve been under the impression these books were written by a woman, but only found out while preparing my blog tour post that this:

S-J-Watson… is S. J. Watson.

But does the author’s gender matter?

In this case, I’d have to say that it does have an impact on my impression of the books and my reaction to them. In both books, the main character is a woman going through hell. In the first book, she’s someone who loses her memory each day and is at the mercy of the people around her while she tries to figure out who she really is. In the second book, she’s a woman with a troubled past dealing with her sister’s murder and getting in way over her head with a creepy online hook-up.

Somehow, knowing that these books were written by a male author and not by a female, as I previously thought, makes the books feel ickier to me. Looking at them through this new lens, the women’s victimization becomes a lot starker and the overall tone strikes me as more sensationalized. This probably makes no rational sense, but I can’t help how I feel — and my feeling is that in Second Life, knowing that I’m reading a man’s idea of how a woman would feel about the horrible situation she’s in is much different from reading about a woman’s pain from a woman’s perspective. In addition, infidelity plays a big role in each book and leads to disaster for the main character — so in retrospect, now that I’m thinking about a male author, is the subtext in these books that women are somehow deserving of horrible fates because they explored their sexuality outside the bounds of marriage?

If I’d known ahead of time, I might have felt differently about the books while reading them. I just pulled my copy of Before I Go To Sleep off the shelf, and nowhere in the author bio or anywhere on the jacket copy is there a gender-specific pronoun used. Intentionally vague? Deceptive? I’m not saying that anyone necessarily set out to pull the wool over the readers’ eyes… but I do wonder why the books were published with just initials in the first place.

Should things like an author’s age or gender matter? Open to debate. But does it matter? Well, yes, I think it does.

In the case of Eragon, I can praise the efforts of a young author, even though I wouldn’t put it anywhere near the top of my list if I were setting out to recommend fantasy epics. In the case of Second Life and S. J. Watson — well, all I can say is that it clearly does matter to me, rightly or wrongly, and that I’m rethinking my reaction to the author’s books now that I know more about the author himself.

How about you? Has information about an author’s life ever changed the way you’ve felt about a book? I’d love to hear other perspectives!

Book Review: Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf

Our Souls At NightIt’s hard to describe this small, lovely book and explain what makes it just so special — but I’ll try.

In the small Colorado town of Holt, the setting for previous novels by Kent Haruf, Addie Moore lives alone. And around the corner is her neighbor Louis Waters. Both are widowed, and are in their 70s. Both seem to lack real human connection in their lives, although they certainly have friends and acquaintances.

One day, Addie shows up on Louis’s doorstep with a proposal.

I’m listening, Louis said.

I wonder if you would consider coming to my house sometimes to sleep with me.

What? How do you mean?

I mean we’re both alone. We’ve been by ourselves for too long. For years. I’m lonely. I think you might be too. I wonder if you would come and sleep in the night with me. And talk.

She asks him to come sleep with her at night. Not for sex, mind you. It’s the closeness she seeks. She wants someone to fall asleep with, to talk with in the dark, to make the nights a little less lonely. And after some thought, Louis agrees.

On the first night, Louis comes through the alley to Addie’s back door with his pajamas and toothbrush in a paper bag, but Addie tells him to come to the front door from now on, if he intends to continue. There will be no sneaking around.

And that’s really it. Small town folks talk, of course, and people seek to create gossip and scandal, but Addie and Louis will have none of it. They refuse to be ashamed, and they refuse to stop. In the night, they talk over their lives, their marriages, their children, the disappointments, the dreams, the pain and the joy. And from these nights, the two form an unusual intimacy, closer than most marriages, that seems like a true meeting of souls.

Just, wow. What a book.

Kent Haruf uses deceptively simple language to paint a gorgeous picture of the inner lives of common people. Our Souls at Night is a short book, under 200 pages, and much of it consists of dialogue between the two characters. Their speech, like their lives, is plain and unadorned. They’ve been through a lot over the course of the years, and they talk to each other directly and openly, no hiding or subterfuge. It’s as though, after all they’ve experienced and all the ups and downs of their lives up to this point, they’re dispensing with the bullshit and getting right to what matters.

This is a beautiful, elegant, graceful book. The writing is spare, pared down to the essentials. There’s nothing fancy about the characters, their speech patterns, or the story. It’s simply a powerful book about the connection between two people who manage to find happiness and true connection at a point in their lives when everyone expects them to simply behave and then fade away.

I read the author’s novel Plainsong years ago and remember that I ended up loving it for its stripped-down beauty. I’m sorry that I haven’t read more by this author, and I do intend to correct that. Our Souls at Night is Kent Haruf’s final novel, as he passed away in 2014 at the age of 71.

This book really swept me up and moved me, and I’d like to page through it for a while longer before I return it to the library. My immediate reaction, though, right after finishing the final pages, is just this: Our Souls at Night is lovely, and should not be missed.

_________________________________________

The details:

Title: Our Souls at Night
Author: Kent Haruf
Publisher: Knopf
Publication date: May 26, 2015
Length: 179 pages
Genre: Contemporary fiction
Source: Library

Thursday Quotables: A Dirty Job

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Welcome back to Thursday Quotables! This weekly feature is the place to highlight a great quote, line, or passage discovered during your reading each week.  Whether it’s something funny, startling, gut-wrenching, or just really beautifully written, Thursday Quotables is where my favorite lines of the week will be, and you’re invited to join in!

NEW! Thursday Quotables is now using a Linky tool! Be sure to add your link if you have a Thursday Quotables post to share.

Dirty Job

A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore
(published 2006 )

I’m listening to the audiobook of A Dirty Job to get read for the sequel, Secondhand Souls, due out in August. I remember loving A Dirty Job the first time around — but listening brings it to an entirely new level of hilarity. Maybe it won’t be quite as funny out of context, but here’s a passage that brings on the giggles:

Charlie’s problem was that the trailing edge of his Beta Male imagination was digging at him like bamboo splinters under the fingernails. While Alpha Males are often gifted with superior physical attributes — size, strength, speed, good looks — selected by evolution over the eons by the strongest surviving and, essentially, getting all the girls, the Beta Male gene has survived not by meeting and overcoming adversity, but by anticipating and avoiding it. That is, when the Alpha Males were out charging after mastodons, the Beta Males could imagine in advance that attacking what was essentially an angry, woolly bulldozer with a pointy stick might be a losing proposition, so they hung back at camp to console the grieving widows.
Another:
Into the breech of the Castro district Charlie Asher charged, an antique sword-cane from the store on the van seat beside him, his jaw set like a bayonet, his visage a study in fearsome intensity. Half a block, half a block, half of a block onward — into the Valley of Overpriced Juice Bars and Outlandish Hair Highlights — rode the righteous Beta Male. And woe be unto the foolish ne’er-do-well who had dared to fuck with this secondhand death dealer…
And finally, rule number one from Charlie’s volume of  The Great Big Book of Death, summing up more or less the main gist of the entire plot of A Dirty Job:
1. Congratulations, you have been chosen to act as Death. It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it. It is your duty to retrieve soul vessels from the dead and dying and see them on to their next body. If you fail, Darkness will cover the world and Chaos will reign.

What lines made you laugh, cry, or gasp this week? Do tell!

If you’d like to participate in Thursday Quotables, it’s really simple:

  • Write a Thursday Quotables post on your blog. Try to pick something from whatever you’re reading now. And please be sure to include a link back to Bookshelf Fantasies in your post (http://www.bookshelffantasies.com), if you’d be so kind!
  • Click on the linky button (look for the cute froggie face) below to add your link.
  • After you link up, I’d love it if you’d leave a comment about my quote for this week.
  • Be sure to visit other linked blogs to view their Thursday Quotables, and have fun!

Wishing & Waiting on Wednesday: Career of Evil

There’s nothing like a Wednesday for thinking about the books we want to read! My Wishing & Waiting on Wednesday post is linking up with two fabulous book memes, Wishlist Wednesday (hosted by Pen to Paper) and Waiting on Wednesday (hosted by Breaking the Spine).

My most wished-for book this week is:

Career of Evil

Career of Evil by Robert Galbraith
(expected US publication date: October 20, 2015)

Synopsis via Goodreads:

When a mysterious package is delivered to Robin Ellacott, she is horrified to discover that it contains a woman’s severed leg.

Her boss, private detective Cormoran Strike, is less surprised but no less alarmed. There are four people from his past who he thinks could be responsible – and Strike knows that any one of them is capable of sustained and unspeakable brutality.

With the police focusing on the one suspect Strike is increasingly sure is not the perpetrator, he and Robin take matters into their own hands, and delve into the dark and twisted worlds of the other three men. But as more horrendous acts occur, time is running out for the two of them…

Career of Evil is the third in the highly acclaimed series featuring private detective Cormoran Strike and his assistant Robin Ellacott. A fiendishly clever mystery with unexpected twists around every corner, it is also a gripping story of a man and a woman at a crossroads in their personal and professional lives.

Cormoran Strike is back, with his assistant Robin Ellacott, in a mystery based around soldiers returning from war.

Ooh, ooh, ooh! A new Cormoran Strike book! Can’t wait!

What are you wishing for this Wednesday?

Looking for some bookish fun on Thursdays and Fridays? Come join me for my regular weekly features, Thursday Quotables and Flashback Friday! You can find out more here — come share the book love!

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Do you host a book blog meme? Do you participate in a meme that you really, really love? I’m building a Book Blog Meme Directory, and need your help! If you know of a great meme to include — or if you host one yourself — please drop me a note on my Contact page and I’ll be sure to add your info!

Top Ten Tuesday: Top Ten Favorite TTT Topics!

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Top Ten Tuesday is a meme hosted by The Broke and the Bookish, featuring a different top 10 theme each week. This week, The Broke and the Bookish is celebrating 5 years of Top Ten Tuesdays!

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Breaking my own “no GIFs” rule to wish The Broke and The Bookish a very happy 5th anniversary of Top Ten Tuesday!

Congratulations to the blogging team that brings us such a fun weekly gathering place! I always look forward to seeing my blogger friends’ lists, even when I don’t participate. I blame other people’s TTT posts for a big chunk of my out-of-control to-read lists!

In honor of the 5th anniversary, we’re celebrating our favorite Top Ten Tuesday topics. Wheeeeee! Below are some of my favorite top 10 lists, with links included in case you want to check out the original posts that go with. It was hard to stop at just 10 — but here goes:

1) Top ten books when I need something light and fun

2) Top ten books dealing with tough subjects

3) Top ten books I thought I’d like more or less than I did

4) Top ten childhood favorites

5) Top ten books to get in the Halloween mood

6) Top ten things that make my reading & blogging life easier

7) Top ten super long, super funny, or just plain super awesome book titles

8) Top ten TV shows for book lovers (“You watch that? Then read this!”)

9) Top ten characters with essential survival skills

10) Top ten most unique books I’ve read… in five words or less

This little trip down memory lane was fun… and I discovered that I have oodles of TTT posts from my almost three years as a blogger that are a blast to revisit (well, for me, anyway!).

Congrats again to the fine bloggers of TB&TB… wishing you many more!

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Raising a glass to five years of TTT!

 

For all my other blogger buddies — what have been your favorite TTT topics so far?

Share your links, and I’ll come check out your top 10!

If you enjoyed this post, please consider following Bookshelf Fantasies! And don’t forget to check out my regular weekly feature, Thursday Quotables. Happy reading!

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Do you host a book blog meme? Do you participate in a meme that you really, really love? I’m building a Book Blog Meme Directory, and need your help! If you know of a great meme to include — or if you host one yourself — please drop me a note on my Contact page and I’ll be sure to add your info!

 

The Monday Check-In ~ 6/22/2015

cooltext1850356879 My Monday tradition, including a look back and a look ahead — what I read last week, what new books came my way, and what books are keeping me busy right now. Plus a smattering of other stuff too.

What did I read last week?

6442769blue starsWeightless

Paper Towns by John Green: Read the week before, but I finally managed to post a brief review this past week. Interestingly, while I wasn’t crazy about the book, two of my book group’s members who work with teens felt the book was absolutely spot-on and really meaningful, so we’ve been having some great discussions.

Blue Stars by Emily Gray Tedrowe: Powerful and moving. My review is here.

Weightless by Sarah Bannon: A YA must-read. My review is here.

Eragon

Hasn’t it seemed like I’ve been reading Eragon forever? Yeah, to me too. I finally finished, and wrote a slightly weird review, here.

Off-line:

I went to see Eddie Izzard perform as part of his Force Majeure tour on Friday, and he was brilliant!

Eddie Izzard

Fresh Catch:

Woo hoo! All sorts of books came my way this week, some used, some new. Look at all the pretty:

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What will I be reading during the coming week?

Currently in my hands:
Second Life

I’ve just started Second Life by S. J. Watson, and will be reviewing it for a blog tour post next week. I have high hopes, since I really enjoyed the author’s first book, Before I Go To Sleep.

Now playing via audiobook:

dead heatDirty Job

I finished listening to Dead Heat… and now I’m super-sad that I’ve run out of Patricia Briggs audiobooks!

Over the weekend, I started the audiobook of A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore. I absolutely need a refresher before the sequel, Secondhand Souls, comes out in August.

Ongoing reads:

EldestABOSAAN&S

Now that we’ve finished Eragon, the kiddo and I are continuing onward with Eldest, the next in the series.

Plus, in ongoing reads, the Outlander Book Club’s group reads of A Breath of Snow and Ashes and North and South are moving forward! If anyone is interested in joining the fun, just let me know and I’ll send you the info.

So many book, so little time…

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Book Review: Weightless by Sarah Bannan

Weightless

 

Synopsis:

(via Goodreads)

When 15-year-old Carolyn moves from New Jersey to Alabama with her mother, she rattles the status quo of the junior class at Adams High School. A good student and natural athlete, she’s immediately welcomed by the school’s cliques. She’s even nominated to the homecoming court and begins dating a senior, Shane, whose on again/off again girlfriend Brooke becomes Carolyn’s bitter romantic rival. When a video of Carolyn and Shane making out is sent to everyone, Carolyn goes from golden girl to slut, as Brooke and her best friend Gemma try to restore their popularity. Gossip and bullying hound Carolyn, who becomes increasingly private and isolated. When Shane and Brooke—now back together—confront Carolyn in the student parking lot, injuring her, it’s the last attack she can take.

Sarah Bannan’s deft use of the first person plural gives Weightless an emotional intensity and remarkable power that will send you flying through the pages and leave you reeling.

 

My Thoughts:

Weightless is a disturbing book, all the more so because it feels so real. There’s an air of distance created by the author’s use of a first-person plural narration. “We” observe everything that happens that junior year, and narrate the excitement generated by the arrival of a new girl into a town in which everyone has known each other literally all their lives. By using the “we” voice, the reader gets no closer to Carolyn and the other main players than the trio of girls whose viewpoint we share. The three telling the story are strictly B-list, always on the outside looking in, at once attracted by the inner circle and desperate for their attention, and at the same time wary of the way getting noticed can come with nasty results.

When you’re new, and when you’re a girl, it’s not so good to be good at something. Better to be average, to be barely visible, to make yourself scarce.

We don’t get to know Carolyn, and perhaps that’s the point. No one in this homogeneous town knows more than what they can see of her. It’s apparent that she has a history. There are the mysterious marks on her arms and torso, indicating that she’s a cutter. But she’s beautiful and smart, perfectly dressed and with an outsider’s flair, and everyone wants to be her friend — until being her friend becomes a liability.

The pressures of high school life are apparent. A thin girl is described as “rexy”, and that’s supposed to be a good thing. Hearing another girl throw up in a bathroom stall is barely worth noticing, it’s so commonplace. “We” are hyper-critical, but no more so than anyone else. There’s a constant emphasis on the right make-up and clothes, the gain or loss of a few pounds:

She looked skinnier than before and maybe we were jealous that she could keep on losing weight, and we wondered what it would be like to be so sick or so sad or mad or whatever it was she was, to be sick enough not to want to eat. It would be nice to be free of that, we thought.

The group narrating the story, and by extension, the entire student population, sees Carolyn’s transformation from new girl to most popular to object of hatred, and no one does a thing about it.

If we had realized what was happening, we might have stood up, shouted or at least cleared our throats.

“Cleared our throats”? The futility, the fear of interfering, the awe and admiration for the popular crowd — all lead to an absolute inability for anyone to break from the herd.

Weightless is a hard, sad, and powerful book. It drove home for me how insanely difficult it must be to navigate the teen years in an age when every private moment is fair game for public distribution via social media. The use of the first-person plural narration is a brilliant tactic that perfectly encapsulates some of the crazier aspects of the quest to fit in and be one of the crowd. If we’re not noticed, then we won’t be targeted — and Carolyn’s sad story is emblematic of what can happen when “we” dare to go our own way.

A final passage, narrating a hot air balloon ride, captures the outsider world view of the entire book:

We were at a distance from it and could see only what we needed to see. From here, we thought, if a car crashed, you wouldn’t hear it, and even if you did, it would look like a toy.

The outsider status of the narrative trio becomes at some point an excuse. We can’t do anything, because we’re not really involved. Or we do something we consider small, like spreading something via social media, fooling ourselves into believing that what we do doesn’t really matter very much, since we’re not truly included. Most especially, we can’t help. We’re too intimidated by Carolyn to offer true friendship, and we’re too scared of becoming pariahs to dare offending the popular girls. Sadly, the distance “we” maintain keeps the group from seeing Carolyn’s struggle as something real, something within reach; her crashing life is something observed from afar, like seeing a toy person falling to pieces rather than an actual, vulnerable human being.

As a final sad note, the author’s acknowledgements include a reference to a real case that at least partially inspired Weightless. For more information, check out this story about the Phoebe Prince case from 2010. (Note: If you’re thinking of reading Weightless, I’d suggest hold off on reading the article, as the events are similar enough to give a good idea of what happens in the book).

Wrapping it all up: I highly recommend Weightless. I’ve seen Weightless described as a book about bullying, but I think it’s much more than that. It’s a very well-written, disturbing, and unusual look at the cost of needing to fit in, and how an entire community can be culpable for making an individual suffer for stepping outside the lines of what’s considered acceptable.

_________________________________________

The details:

Title: Weightless
Author: Sarah Bannan
Publisher: St. Martin’s Griffin
Publication date: June 30, 2015
Length: 336 pages
Genre: Contemporary YA fiction
Source: Review copy courtesy of the publisher via NetGalley

 

Eragon: A book with the kiddo, & a book review with a twist

EragonThis started out as a straight-forward book review, but I think it’s now turning into more of a “Choose Your Own Adventure” deal. I wrote a review. Then I thought about a completely different angle. And thought I’d include both! So, choose which version you want to read, or read both! Either way, you’ll hear my mouthy opinion, for better or for worse.

Version #1:

Eragon (book #1 of the four-part Inheritance Cycle) is a good old-fashioned epic fantasy quest, filled with dragons, monsters, good guys and bad guys, swords with names, wise old mentors, and one very special young man who spends the book discovering that he may in fact be the Chosen One.

I’ve always enjoyed reading with my son, and now that he’s 12, our reading time has changed. We still hang out and read together, but we’re often looking for books that we can read in parallel, then chat about for a while. Eragon is LONG book, well over 500 pages in our paperback copy, and I’d say it took us close to five months to get through the whole thing. Because I wanted this to be a shared experience, I did not read ahead — and when we had days or even weeks when my kiddo was distracted or just not into it, we both went without.

Consequently, I think, my enjoyment of the story was already a bit lower than it might have been if I’d just read straight through. More on this later.

In terms of plot, Eragon more or less follows along well-trodden paths. We start with 15-year-old Eragon as an ordinary boy, being raised by his uncle on a simple farm. When Eragon finds a dragon egg, it sets in motion a series of life-changing events, some tragic, some full of promise.

When the egg finally hatches, out comes a cute baby dragon with whom Eragon immediately bonds. The two share a psychic link, and Eragon discovers that her name is Saphira, and that they can have full conversations in their heads. But there are dangerous foes who want the dragon too, and when Eragon’s uncle is brutally murdered, Eragon and Saphira flee for their lives, along with the town storyteller, an old man named Brom who has plenty of secrets and wisdom to share with Eragon.

There’s a road trip of sorts, as Ergaon, Saphira and Brom chase the bad guys who killed the uncle. More than that, though, Brom starts to teach Eragon about his true heritage and calling: Eragon is a Dragon Rider, one of an ancient line with magical powers, thought to be more or less extinct. The evil king Galbatorix would surely kill him if he could, and they spend much of the book moving from place to place, pursued by nasty creatures, always in danger, and busy making sure that Eragon is transformed from simple farm boy to magic-wielding powerhouse.

So. What did I think? Well, for starters, this is a tough book to read in small chunks. Eragon is highly detailed, and the telling of the backstory and mythology is uneven and occasionally awkward. Brom tells Eragon about the Riders and how the king became so evil in a single story, about three pages long, early on in the book — and yet this informs almost everything that comes later. Should a reader really be expected to keep all the details straight hundreds of pages later? It seems a bit daunting, especially considering that this is supposedly a kids’ book.

Reading it as I did, no more than a chapter at a time, sometimes with days in between, it was hard to maintain the flow of the story. But even so, I do think I might have felt similarly if I’d read it straight through. The chapters are long, and the entire plot is one episode of danger after another, often with very little natural flow between scenes or locations.

Much has been made of the fact that the author, Christopher Paolini, was only 15 when he wrote this book, which is utterly remarkable in terms of a teen literary phenomenon. It’s pretty mind-boggling to me that someone his age could create such a large, densely packed book. But should a book be judged by the age of its author, or on the merit of its content, plot, characters, and overall effect?

If I ignore what I know about the author, I’m less impressed. Much of the story feels derivative. Young apprentice, old mentor? Check. Newly discovered magical powers? Check. Coming of age due to the death of the hero’s family/support system? Check. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Brom could be any one of a dozen or more wise, old, mysterious magical gurus from fantasy — Gandalf, Dumbledore, Obi-Wan Kenobi. There’s a magical elf girl, because of course there’s a magical elf-girl. Cities full of suspicious or untrustworthy residents. Dwarves, elves, mad kings… it’s like every fantasy epic, put into a blender and poured out into a new glass.

And then there’s the writing. Remember being in high school English classes, writing essays, and trying to use as many SAT-level words as possible in the attempt to impress your teacher with the power of your vocabulary, even if you had nothing much to say? Yeah. It’s like that. I stopped noticing quite so much after a while, but particularly early on, it’s irritating and distracting to be subjected to such overblown language constantly. The author’s approach seems to be: why use a one-syllable word when there’s a longer one that will do?

So did I enjoy Eragon? Yes and no. I enjoyed the experience of sharing it with my son, being able to talk about it with him, and seeing his less-jaded response to the plot and characters. He really liked it, which made me like it too. Left to my own devices, I’d probably say that it was at least a third longer than it needed to be, in dire need of editing, and overall a not terribly original remash of standard fantasy themes and plot elements.

Version #2:

I mentioned Obi-Wan Kenobi before, right? On further thought, a cup of tea and a shower later, I’ve started to think that the entire book of Eragon (and who knows, perhaps the rest of the Inheritance series as well) can be boiled down to “Star Wars with Dragons”.

We’ve got the story of a young man raised on a farm by his uncle. Parentage unknown. He unwittingly comes into possession of something sought after by the Empire. Agents of the Empire slaughter his uncle and destroy the farm. He has to flee. He receives a vision of a beautiful young woman who desperately needs his help. He is guided by an old man with mysterious knowledge and powers, who tells him that he himself has abilities he was unaware of, and that he belongs to a group with special abilities and — can we call magic “the force”? He begins to learn to use his powers and becomes a skilled flyer and fighter. His mentor ultimately dies, after setting the hero on his path. The hero allies himself with a rogue with a heart of gold, whose skills help him avoid capture…

Okay, it gets a bit murkier after that, since there’s no Death Star. But there is an epic battle at the end, and our hero emerges triumphantly, but with the knowledge that he needs further training in order to prepare for the challenges still to come. Which nicely sets us up for the next installment in the series.

So does this mean that Eragon’s father is really the evil king Galbatorix? It would fit. After all, Galbatorix was originally a Rider, before going mad from grief and pursuing total domination and dark powers.

Wow. Mind blown.

But do me a favor! If you’ve read the rest of the Inheritance series, don’t tell me if my Galbatorix theories are correct! I need to leave some mysteries to look forward to.

Wrapping it all up:

I tried to get my kiddo to contribute to this review, but apart from saying “it was good”, he wasn’t willing to play along. He does like my Star Wars theories! The kiddo, for all his middle-school cool, was actually pretty enthusiastic about the story, except for when it bogged down in chapters full of traveling from point A to point B to point C. He enjoyed it enough that he insisted that we start the second book, Eldest, right away… and so we have.

Sigh. We’re one chapter into Eldest so far, and I can tell we’re in for a long haul. 600+ pages! I don’t love this series so far, as you can probably tell, but it also hasn’t turned me off completely, and at this point, thanks to the kiddo, I’m involved enough to keep going. I’ve just got to see how it all works out!

And hey, who knows? Maybe there’ll be some Ewoks along the way.

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The details:

Title: Eragon (The Inheritance Cycle, book #1)
Author: Christopher Paolini
Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers
Publication date: 2002
Length: 528 pages
Genre: Fantasy (kids/teens)
Source: Purchased

 

Thursday Quotables: Paper Towns

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Welcome back to Thursday Quotables! This weekly feature is the place to highlight a great quote, line, or passage discovered during your reading each week.  Whether it’s something funny, startling, gut-wrenching, or just really beautifully written, Thursday Quotables is where my favorite lines of the week will be, and you’re invited to join in!

NEW! Thursday Quotables is now using a Linky tool! Be sure to add your link if you have a Thursday Quotables post to share.

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Paper Towns by John Green
(published 2008 )

While I didn’t necessarily love everything about the plot of this young adult novel, I did really enjoy the voice of the main character — especially his inner voice, as he comes to realize that by idealizing the perfect girl next door, he’s failed to understand her basic human essence:

I was sitting back. I was listening. And I was hearing something about her and about windows and mirrors. Chuck Parson was a person. Like me. Margo Roth Spiegelman was a person, too. And I had never quite thought of her that way, not really; it was a failure of all my previous imaginings. All along — not only since she left, but for a decade before — I had been imagining her without listening, without knowing that she made as poor a window as I did. And so I could not imagine her as a person who could feel fear, who could feel isolated in a roomful of people, who could be shy about her record collection because it was too personal to share. Someone who might read travel books to escape having to live in the town that so many people escape to.  Someone who — because no one thought she was a person — had no one to really talk to.
And following up:
Yes. The fundamental mistake I had always made — and that she had, in fairness, always led me to make — was this: Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventure. She was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.

What lines made you laugh, cry, or gasp this week? Do tell!

If you’d like to participate in Thursday Quotables, it’s really simple:

  • Write a Thursday Quotables post on your blog. Try to pick something from whatever you’re reading now. And please be sure to include a link back to Bookshelf Fantasies in your post (http://www.bookshelffantasies.com), if you’d be so kind!
  • Click on the linky button (look for the cute froggie face) below to add your link.
  • After you link up, I’d love it if you’d leave a comment about my quote for this week.
  • Be sure to visit other linked blogs to view their Thursday Quotables, and have fun!

Book Review: Blue Stars by Emily Gray Tedrowe

blue starsThe Blue Star service flag: A simple flag, displayed in a window to indicate a family with a member serving in the US military during wartime. In Blue Stars, author Emily Gray Tedrowe introduces us to two women whose lives are turned upside down and inside out by their experiences dealing with their loved ones’ service and the aftermath of devastating, life-changing injuries.

The two main characters are Ellen and Lacey, and on the surface, they couldn’t be more different. Ellen is a midwestern college professor specializing in the works of Edith Wharton. Widowed many years earlier, Ellen has two children — a daughter in her late teens who is full of rebellion and sarcasm, and a son in graduate school. Ellen also has a ward, having become legal guardian to Mike, a young man befriended by Ellen’s son as a teen, whom Ellen took in, took under her wing, and made part of the family.

Lacey is a working-class mom in New York, married to army reserves officer Eddie, but not particularly happy in her marriage. Lacey married Eddie after a long string of go-nowhere relationships, needing stability and meaning in her life and a father for her son Otis. Lacey thrives in the tight-knit circle of army wives and their non-stop projects and activities, but she also drinks too much and hides her secret dissatisfaction with a husband whom she married in haste.

As the book opens, it’s 2005, and Mike and Eddie are both preparing for a 15-month deployment to Iraq. Mike has just enlisted in the Marines, much to Ellen’s dismay, and Eddie is being sent overseas as well. All too soon, though, Ellen and Lacey each receive the news they dread: Their loved ones have been injured, and will be brought to Walter Reed Medical Center in Washington DC for treatment.

Mike has lost a foot due to a grenade. Eddie has lost an eye, most of the vision in his other eye, and has suffered severe head trauma. Ellen and Lacey uproot their lives and, for months and months, become permanent fixtures at Walter Reed, overseeing their soldiers’ care, dealing with bureaucracy, substandard housing, and the patients’ distressing physical conditions. The horrors of war are driven home by seeing the extent of the damage to these formerly healthy men, as well as by seeing the other patients and their families. And to add one horror upon another, the women and families there are pretty much on their own, fighting for benefits, living on pennies, scrambling to make ends meet, and desperate for any shred of hope.

The relationship between Ellen and Lacey is at the heart of this touching novel. In a “normal” world, these two would never meet, much less become friends. Yet through their shared experiences, each finds in the other something she desperately needs. Ellen represents calm and order to Lacey, instilling the belief in Lacey that she’s worth more than she thinks. And in Lacey, Ellen finds a woman who isn’t afraid to speak out, to confront hard truths, and to bring people together.

I found both women very inspirational, in their own ways. Lacey is a mess in so many ways, and it’s hard to approve of much of her behavior early on, yet she displays a courage and loyalty that are quite remarkable. Ellen, too, has to deal with her own feelings of inadequacy, yet her devotion to Mike never wavers for a moment, despite the often brutal emotional toll taken by dealing with a man traumatized by PTSD and haunted by his war experience.

We all know that war is hell, and there are countless war novels that focus on the front lines. Here, in Blue Stars, it’s the home front that’s the focus, and the book does an outstanding job of showing that the misery and trauma don’t stop just because a soldier’s battle days are over… and that the trauma and pain are felt in myriad ways by the families back home as well. The military families described in Blue Stars aren’t idealized or seen through a rosy filter. They have faults, and we see them, but we also see the dedication, courage, and sheer determination that help them stand by their wounded soldiers.

My only frustration with Blue Stars is that I wished to know more about Mike himself and his experiences, but of course that would have been a different book. We get to know Mike through Ellen’s eyes, and it’s Ellen’s experience of Mike’s war — and by extension, Ellen and her family’s war as well — that’s the essence of this book. Blue Stars is about the ravages of war, on individuals and families, and about what it takes to rebuild a life — the life of the wounded soldier, and the life of the damaged family.

Reading about the badly wounded soldiers, so young and so full of promise, is moving and tragic. I was filled with anger over their pointless suffering, and filled with admiration for the tough parents, spouses, children, girlfriends and boyfriends, who give 110% for the sake of their loved ones’ recovery. Blue Stars is a moving and powerful novel — not always pleasant, but an important and emotionally rich look at the lives of military families, the power of friendship, and the many ways that love and commitment make a difference.

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The details:

Title: Blue Stars
Author: Emily Gray Tedrowe
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
Publication date: February 17, 2015
Length: 352 pages
Genre: Contemporary fiction
Source: Review copy courtesy of the publisher via NetGalley