May-July 2009 Book List

By the end of July, I had already read 61 books for 2009. More actually, because looking back on my list, I had forgotten to include some titles back in Feb-Mar.

May
1. The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric and Discredited Diseases (edited by Jeff Vandermeer and Mark Roberts)
2. The Sugar Queen (Sarah Addison Allen)
3. General Winston's Daughter (Sharon Shinn)
4. The Observations (Jane Harris)
5. Lady of Sherwood (Jennifer Roberson)

As mentioned in my last post, I also started reading Palimpsest by Cathrynne Valiente and The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson but finished neither, for different reasons.

June
1. Lady of the Glen (Jennifer Roberson)
2. Criss Cross (Lynne Rae Perkins)
3. A Curse Dark as Gold (Elizabeth C. Bunce)
4. Belle (Cameron Dokey)
5. Pretty Monsters (Kelly Link)
6. The Time Traveler's Wife (Audrey Niffenegger)
7. My Imaginary Ex (Mina V. Esguerra)
8. The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks (E. Lockheart)
9. Carved in Stone (Linda Newbery)
10. The Mysterious Benedict Society (Trenton Lee Stewart)
11. When It Happens (Susane Colasanti)
12. The Forgotten Beasts of Eld (Patricia McKillip)

July
1. Every Soul a Star (Wendy Mass)
2-5. Heartquest (Ring of the Ruby Dragon, Talisman of Valdegarde, Secret Sorceress, Isle of Illusion)
6. The Ninth Stone (Kylie Fitzpatrick)
7. Devil's Cub (Georgette Heyer)
8. Ransom My Heart (Mia Thermopolis)
9. The Historian (Elizabeth Kostova)
10-11. Murkmere and Ambergate (Patricia Elliot)
12. The Reluctant Heiress (Eva Ibbotson)

Just realized that I only read two male authors throughout this period, and I didn't even finish the other one. I'm not counting Mr. Vandermeer's work, though. I'm on my third book in August, and I still haven't picked up another title from a male author.


--
And because I can't guarantee that I'll edit this post to tell you what I think of each book, here's a list of my highly-recommended titles.

For those looking for a new perspective:
The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric and Discredited Diseases
Pretty Monsters (brilliant brilliant unpredictable brilliant)
The Forgotten Beasts of Eld (lovely, lyrical fantasy)

For those who want a thrilling page-turner to keep them up at night:
The Historian (I'd be first in line at the theaters if this was ever made into a film)
A Curse Dark as Gold (a fairy tale retelling in the form of gothic YA)

For those who turn to books for their romantic fix:
The Time Traveler's Wife (has universal appeal despite the deliberately messy timeline)
My Imaginary Ex (fun chick lit from a local publisher)

For those who never outgrew their childhood:
Every Soul a Star (now one of my fave YA titles)
The Mysterious Benedict Society (engaging characters tackle nail-biting mysteries)

April 2009 Book List

Why are my posts getting later by the month? Anyway, I don't even have time to share my thoughts on these books, but I know I have to list them so I won't forget:

1. What I Did for Love (Susan Elizabeth Phillips)
2. The Changeling Sea (Patricia McKillip)
3. The Resurrection Casket
*An audio book, but since I did not attempt to multi-task as I listened to this one, I felt it had to count
4-6. Kissed by an Angel/ The Power of Love/ Soul Mates (Elizabeth Chandler)
7. Tintin and the Secret of Literature (Tom McCarthy)
8. Proust and the Squid (Maryanne Wolf)

Reading now: Palimpsest (Catherynne M. Valente), The Gargoyle (Andrew Davidson), Lady of Sherwood (Jennifer Roberson)

March 2009 Book List

By some coincidence, a lot of the books I read last month had the word 'Rose' in the title. Here's a rundown:

1. The Seduction of the Crimson Rose (Laura Willig)
Fourth of the Pink Carnation series. While I am usually drawn to the dark, cruel men of bodice-rippers, I wasn't fully able to enjoy this particular title because of the heroine. We've met Mary Allsworthy previously, and while a closer scrutiny of the earlier books gave yielded no mention that she was a vapid bachelorette, I still cannot see how she suddenly becomes the sharp-witted wonder of this fourth book. What, suddenly she's the only woman worthy of intellectual battle against Lord Vaughn? Oh, I tried to like this book for its own sake but Mary ruined it all. I'm hoping that the next book in the series isn't as character-challenged as this one felt to me.

2. Malinche (Laura Esquivel)
La Malinche played a pivotal role in Mexican history as the interpreter and mistress of Cortes. I only read up about her when I was finished with Ms. Esquivel's novel, never suspecting during the first pages that I was reading something based on historical facts. Because of her role in the conquest, her name has become synonymous to disloyalty. What Ms. Esquivel does is present La Malinche's story from her own point of view, and by reminding the reader how religion permeated every aspect of this earlier culture, she manages to build a case for La Malinche. Still with me? Good. While I applaud the effort and the method to bring that about, I have a lot of difficulty with the actual writing. I found the pace awkward at best. There is a slight imbalance for me as I end up reading a mere paragraph about a particularly horrible, historic raid while an entire chapter is devoted to Malinche and Cortes in a bathhouse. I like my historical fiction with a good dose of history (which felt sorely missing in this book as it tended to gloss over certain things -- sometimes I even thought these events happened all in her head, the way they were so quickly introduced and dropped!) or with a particularly compelling story (which, by virtue of its weird pacing, I didn't get either). I am glad that the novel prompted me to read more on the Spanish conquest, and just hope that the next novel of Ms. Esquivel that I read will be a better one.

3. Getting to Know You (David Marusek)
I think I would have liked David Marusek's collection of short stories more if I didn't get the impression that he was a little self-indulgent. It's like getting introduced to someone new at work; over the course of one day, you begin to see that there's nothing wrong with this guy, but somehow you can't shake the negative first impression you have of him. So that's what it's like for me and Mr. Marusek. Or most authors who write their own introductions to their story collections. Hahaha. Anyway, that aside, I have to give credit where it's due and Mr. Marusek certainly knows how to turn his sci-fi stories into stories I can care about. His first story, 'The Wedding Album', is filled with a unique sense of sorrow. His 'We Were Out of Our Minds with Joy' is just beautiful. His 'Yurek Rutz, Yurek Rutz, Yurek Rutz' is my favorite, I think -- an amusing contrast in a collection that takes very human emotions and places them in a very technological (post-human?) future.

4. The Stone Rose (Jacqueline Rayner)
An audio book version, really, but I sat down and spent an afternoon listening to it, so it should count! This is originally a Doctor Who paperback that David Tennant reads with admirable skill, convincing me that I was being treated to a full-cast performance instead of just a one man show. While I had some characterization issues with it, it still proved to be a relatively fun adventure with enough twists and turns to keep me glued to my coffee shop chair.

5. Winter Rose (Patricia A. McKillip)
Patricia McKillip commands such lyrical prose that makes the Winter Rose seem like something from a fever dream. The story is simple enough -- the only heir of village's rich but eccentric family returns and suddenly the lives of Rois and her soon-to-be-married sister are thrown into a turmoil. There is a richness to the story that extends beyond the thin plot, one that is anchored firmly in the way Ms. McKillip explores her characters and their motivations. It really does feel like a fever dream: a mishmash of elements that somehow make sense under her pen.

6. The Man of My Dreams (Curtis Sittenfeld)
I'm too much of a romantic, and I suppose it shows in my choice of books. I'd rarely pick up a 'realistic' portrayal of love, opting instead for more of the escapist fare. But Curtis Stittenfeld made this read definitely worthwhile, as she chronicles Hannah's understanding of love from childhood to adulthood, picking stereotypes and turning them into somewhat believable versions of their selves: the One Who Loves You Too Much, the One Who Doesn't Love You At All, the One Who Got Away. Ms. Sittenfeld creates room for self-discovery and self-awareness through Hannah's journey, making me appreciate this novel's solid, little triumphs.

7. Silent on the Moor (Deanna Raybourn)
I'm not sure if Deanna Raybourn will have more Lady Julia Grey novels after this, but I thought that this was a great end to her mystery-romance series. I usually bemoan how stories like this have a tendency to try to be both and end up being neither, but in this case, I was willing to forgive the fact that the main mystery was too predictable if only for the way every Nicholas Brisbane loose end was neatly resolved.

8. Eat Pray Love (Elizabeth Gilbert)
Finally! I borrowed this from one of the bosses at work but only finished it while I was convalescing. The book took me from Italy to India to Indonesia, a journey worth savoring not only because of the Ms. Gilbert's intimate observations of these places but also for her realizations on discovery, acceptance, forgiveness and love. I usually just read a bit of it at a time; I don't think it's the kind of book you rush to finish. I'm glad I read it when I needed to read it.

On the shelf: Lankhmar, Tintin and the Secret of Literature, Proust and the Squid, and Kissed by an Angel (my attempt at another Twilight fix). And the Robin Hobb books which are long overdue! I hate it how hating a character can ruin a good reading stride.

February 2009 Book List

Overall, February was a lean month, and I was mostly preoccupied with rereading Lloyd Alexander's Chronicles of Prydain whenever I got the chance.

1. My Mistress' Sparrow is Dead (edited by Jeffrey Eugenides)
Touted as 'a collection of great love stories from Chekov to Munro'. As an aside, my personal favorite happens to be Kurt Vonnegut's Long Walk to Forever, which isn't in this collection. So what is? An assortment of relationships told in different genres, wrapped in different cultures. If you're looking for heady, giddy chick lit, you're better off looking elsewhere though; after reading this, I reminded myself of its stark title. I was forewarned, and I didn't pay attention. Still, I enjoyed most of the stories here, especially Mary Robison's Yours, Stuart Dybek's We Didn't, and Lorrie Moore's How to be an Other Woman.

2. Night Watch (Sergei Lukyanenko)
I was obsessed with this one. The tale is set in modern-day Russia, where vampires and wizards and other such creatures walk among us. The Light Ones work the Night Watch, the Dark Ones make up the Day Watch, and both parties try to preserve the balance between good and evil. This book is actually made up of three exhilirating stories in one, fast-paced and philosophical. I can't wait to read the other books.

3. Royal Assassin (Robin Hobb)
Second books in a trilogy tend to end with cliffhangers. This was no exception. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, making me think I'd have an easy time finishing the last of the series. Turns out I was wrong, but I'll save that complaint for another day.

4. Becoming Bindy McKenzie (Jaclyn Moriarty)
5. Feeling Sorry for Celia (Jaclyn Moriarty)
Two YA books from an Australian author. I was a big fan of her Finding Cassie Crazy, a story told in journal entries and letters, which certainly told me what to expect from these two books. I felt that Bindy was a stronger read compared to Celia (her first in this series, if I remember correctly). I felt that Bindy's strength lies in how craftily it captures its characters. What's even better is that it has a mystery lurking in the background, one that makes you go "Aaaah, that makes sense..." Inventive. Marisha Pessl, take note.

6. The Princess and the Hound (Mette Ivie Harrison)
The attempt to create another realized world reminded me of Shannon Hale's and Sharon Shinn's YA books, but somehow Mette Harrison's didn't do much for me. While I was certainly rooting for her protagonist, there was something here that made me disconnect from it. Okay, maybe disconnection is too strong a word. But in any case, I was always aware that I was READING instead of living the story and in the end, I felt neither here nor there. Is that strange?

7. Never Let Me Go (Kazuo Ishiguro)
This book took me by surprise. Highly recommended. No spoilers, no reviews, just one enthusiastic recommendation!

January 2009 Book List

Where did all my time go? I guess I have to settle for re-posting this book list that I've been making since the start of the year. It's my way of keeping track of all the books that I've read so far, and while my thoughts here as not as extensive as I would have liked, I feel that they suffice.

1. Stick Out Your Tongue (Ma Jian)
Rich, visceral stories told in a sparse and straightforward narrative. An easy read, if by 'easy' you mean short. But the situations depicted in the book have stayed with me long after I closed the book; it's quite heavy and unsettling in that way.

2. Special Topics in Calamity Physics (Marisha Pessl)
Oh, where do I begin? It had a good premise but I found its narrator too self-indulgent. I found it painful to finish the story (for the most part, I wondered where the story was) when I had such dislike for the narrator. The author threw the reader a curveball eventually but while it was unexpected, I found it far-fetched. I mean, here was a first-person narrator who did nothing else in the rest of the book but catalog and judge events based on her literary knowledge, a narrator who loved dramatizing everything and she does not foreshadow this at all? Parang inutot lang nya yung twist. The best part of the whole thing, I think, was when the narrator gives a speech where she does not reference a single person (well, one, I think) and speaks for herself. I would still like to see the author's other works, though; I think there is merit to her. Just please keep me away from Blue Van Meer.

3. The Princess Diaries 10: Forever Princess (Meg Cabot)
End of the Princess Diaries series. Pretty light read, but it was evident to me that Meg Cabot's and Princess Mia's voices have matured a lot since the first book. It was satisfying enough if you're a fan of the series, but if you're just starting out, I have to warn you that not much really happens in the middle of this series. You might be in for a long 10 books.

4. Austenland (Shannon Hale)
Was only interested in reading this book because I like Shannon Hale's books a lot. This was pure indulgence. I think the author felt strongly about the topic that she was compelled to write a chick fic inspired by Pride and Prejudice (I swear, this in itself deserves a sub-genre of its own). But it's still a pretty decent romantic novel.

5. My Swordhand is Singing (Marcus Sedgwick)
After hating his Book of Dead Days and loving his The Dark Horse, I wasn't sure how I would feel about Swordhand. Very interesting take. I felt as if I was really there. Sedgwick's prose has a way of doing that to you. In the end, I wished there was more of the story so that I would feel more of the terror. I found Horse much, much better, but Swordhand's still recommended for YA fans.

6. No one belongs here more than you. (Miranda July)
Thin collection of short stories. Serviceable, with Sapphic undertones. She writes with a good voice, but none of her stories particular stood out to me.

7. The Little Book of Forensics (David Owen)
Nonfiction. Just a collection of crimes to illustrate the different evidence-gathering and crime-solving methods that forensics have employed over the years. Reading the cases is almost like watching a True Crime, only shorter.

8. Color: A National History of the Palette (Victoria Finlay)
Nonfiction. Highly recommended! I just wish that the entire book came in color so there would be more illuminating photos to accompany the already illuminating black text.

9. An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England (Brock Clarke)
Still reading this one. Teenager burns down Emily Dickinson's house. Serves time. Goes back out to society. Unfortunately, someone else has started burning down houses again. Reviews said that it was a funny read; I guess I haven't really gotten to the funny part yet. :P

History.

Every journey into the past is complicated by delusions, false memories, and false namings of real events. - Adrienne Rich

Book of a Thousand Days (Shannon Hale)

I wasn't acquainted with the Brothers Grimm's Maid Maleen until I encountered Shannon Hale's Book of a Thousand Days, which uses the said tale as jump-off point for her latest YA novel. Someone told me it was her best one yet, but while this was well-written, I think I'll still award the superlative to her The Goose Girl.

The fairy tale is set in a world that has a Central Asian feel. Dashti is a mucker, more at home with yaks and goats than with nobility. By a twist of fate, she becomes handmaid to Lady Saren, whose refusal to marry a powerful lord has resulted in her being locked in a tower for seven years. Dashti included. It's enough to make a girl cry, but not our heroine. Instead, she keeps her wits about and tries to make life easier for her and her mistress. Lady Saren's spurned suitor makes threatening visits to their little tower, but so does her betrothed, the gallant Khan Tegus. But the tower walls have broken Lady Saren's spirit, and she insists that Dashti answer for her when confronted by both lover and enemy. It is not long before Dashti falls in love with the Khan herself and figures out a way out of the tower. But Saren's home is no more, and Dashti leads her to -- surprise, surprise -- Khan Tegus' kingdom.

Ms. Hale takes liberties with the original tale, of course, and I enjoy where she takes the story. Perhaps what keeps me from heaping praise on this novel is the fact that I found the first part of Thousand Days, when Dashti and Saren are still imprisoned in their tower, quite tedious. And to think this was the part that was most faithful to the Grimm's story, minus the visiting suitors. I certainly had fears that I would be reading a thousand days that detail the decreasing inventory of grain and cheese in the girls' larder.

Thankfully, the story picks up when they escape and progresses with an almost Cinderella-like (read: rags to riches) development. Dashti is a quintessential Hale heroine, admirably determined and resourceful, but after some time I suppose I would like to read one of her stories where the heroine isn't. Still, Ms. Hale loses none of her lyrical prose with Thousand Days. It carries with it the flavor I love best about her works: quietly told, observant and deliberate.

The Dark Horse (Marcus Sedgwick)

After being sorely disappointed with Marcus Sedgwick's The Book of Dead Days, I wasn't too keen about reading his other works. But somehow, I couldn't resist the appeal of The Dark Horse, and I'm glad for it.

Mouse is a foundling. When Sigurd's tribe saves her from wolves and adopts her into their own, they grow to be brother and sister, content with their peaceful way of life. But this all changes when they come across a mysterious box and the strange man who comes with it. Mr. Sedgwick's novel may read like an archetype but in the end, it gave me one of the most unexpected developments I've encountered, right up there to finding out who four of the five last Cylons are. Maybe even more.

I'm often at a loss for words when I encounter a book that I truly enjoy, and this is one of those times. I found that Dark Horse didn't have that self-aware air that I disliked so much about Dead Days. It moved at such a brisk pace, with each plot point equally important to the unravelling of the mystery. The language is as sparse and stark as the setting, and it serves to underscore the story's themes.

Mr. Sedgwick proves that there's still something unexpected and original present in young adult fiction. This made me even want to give Dead Days another chance, if only I didn't give my copy away as a Christmas present. Come to think of it, if all his books were this good, then I'll be filling my shelf with his works pretty soon.

Advice.

If you feel the need to write music, or play it, then do so, but believe me, your creativity is of no interest to anyone. Write something--then it's there. If it's what you wanted to write, if it exists, then leave it. If it doesn't, throw it away. Your beautiful state of mind is totally irrelevant. - Marcus von Altenburg, A Song for Summer

The Minister's Daughter (Julie Hearn)

I had a passing fascination for Wicca back in my university days. I never went all The Craft on anyone (much to my very Catholic mother's relief), but I did come to respect this often-misunderstood religion. But Wiccan fascinations aside, I confess that I was drawn to Julie Hearn's The Minister's Daughter, also known as The Merrybegot, more by the half-mischievous, half-sinister expression on this edition's cover.

It's no surprise that a tale such as this ends in Salem. But the real story--Nell's story--happens somewhere in west England. Nell is granddaughter to the village's cunning woman, already the subject of the Puritan minister's disapproval. Nell not only has to worry about her grandmother's fate and failing health; she also has to contend with the minister's daughter, Grace, the village's golden girl. Nell and Grace share a secret, but it is not long before one accuses the other of witchcraft.

Readers of young adult fiction might enjoy the historical facts embedded into this well-written family drama. The core of this tale really lies in the relationships of the characters--their weaknesses and their heartbreaks, their loves and their desires. I expected The Crucible and got something else entirely. Another thing I didn't expect was the mix of piskies and faeries in these pages. The introduction of the supernatural as truth lent the story a slightly different guise from the plain historical fiction narrative. Did I like it? Not so much, since I thought it detracted from the severity of the topic, but the story wouldn't have moved in the direction that Ms. Hearn intended without its presence.

One interesting element is the inclusion of spells and herbal remedies in the story. Throughout the story, Nell recounts the various charms she has learned from her grandmother. Here is one such spell, though its effectiveness was never shown:

A Spell to Make a Lad Swoon with Desire
On a spring or summer's morning--
and best it be a Friday, on a waxing moon--
follow the one your heart is fixed upon
until he maketh a clear footprint in the earth.
Dig out the earth and bury it beneath a willow tree
with a lock of thine own hair and a sprinkle of petals
from a pink geranium. Tilt thy face toward the sky,
and declare, in utter certainty:
"As many earths on earth there art,
so shall I win my true love's heart."
So mote it be. (p. 94)

Sadly, there are no willow trees where I live. Maybe Nell would have taught me more than I thought.

The Lies of Locke Lamora (Scott Lynch)

Thank goodness for context clues. Because of them, I'm not apologizing for thoroughly enjoying Scott Lynch's The Lies of Locke Lamora, a fantasy read that adeptly utilizes the worldbuilding practice that a lot of literary voices seem to condemn. Context clues helped me get through the twelve Capital Letters in the first sentence alone.

But more than his context clues, I really should give Mr. Lynch credit for the exciting and cinematic approach that Lies takes. Set in the Venice-inspired city of Camorr, it follows the exploits of Locke Lamora and his small gang of con artists, the Gentlemen Bastards. Unfortunately for Locke, he gets caught in another game where he becomes pawn of The Grey King, a mysterious figure out to get Camorr's mafia overlord. There was a breathless quality to the narrative that I found engaging. The pacing just right for my speed, the characters deliciously archetypal but still fascinating to read. While there are no surprises in characterization here, I applaud Mr. Lynch for his characters' well-developed quirks, from smarmy Locke to the often-mentioned-but-conspicuously-absent Sabetha. At times, though, I found myself questioning the logic behind Locke's decisions, but the story swept me from one plot point to the other, giving me time to wonder only after I finished the book. Find fault with Lies, but I highly doubt it will be on the con and action area.

They said that there was a lot of undeserved hype over this book. But (surprise, surprise) I liked it. So is there any other point that I should make in this review (other than the fact I probably shouldn't be reviewing books that critics have deemed unworthy)?

Apparently, there is; it's my blog anyway. If you like your fantasy with fast-paced swashbuckling (damn, I swore I wasn't going to use that word in this review) action, then The Lies of Locke Lamora comes well-recommended.

Standards.

The writer of originality, unless dead, is always shocking, scandalous; novelty disturbs and repels. - Simone de Beauvoir

The Fountain (Darren Aronofsky/ Kent Williams)

It all started when Nick called for help in choosing his next purchase among the graphic novels before him. I asked him what his options were. At the mention of Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain, I totally tuned out the rest. In the end, Nick bought me a copy of my own, and it was the first birthday present I received this year.

Thing is, I've been meaning to watch the film when I first heard the story. How Mr. Aronofsky first cast Brad Pitt to star in this surreal, multi-dimensional quest to save a life, and how he had to subsequently pack up when the star walked away from the project. I missed the screening when it was released in Manila, and up until now, I still haven't gotten around to seeing it.

Thank goodness for the graphic novel, though. I found Kent Williams' art a fitting complement to Mr. Aronofsky's tale(s?). Isabella, Queen of Spain, sends her captain Tomas to the mystic land of Chetumal for the Tree of Life, in defiance of the Church. Their story, fact or fiction, is the subject of present-day Izzi Creo's novel. Izzi is dying of cancer while her research scientist husband Tommy slices open monkeys to find a cure. Does she die? Ask Tommy who, in the far future, is floating through space with the Tree of Life. In a bubble. Towards a star about to go supernova. All throughout this interweaving of lives, Mr. Williams' art does an admirable job of keeping up. It turns striking and bloody as the conquistadores duke it out with the Church and the Mayans, sparse and monochromatic during Izzi's battle with cancer, soft and lush when Tommy turns Zen in space.

But The Fountain survives more on the mood it envokes rather than the clarity of its narrative, which is hardly the point anyway. Visually and emotionally, it is multi-layered and ambitious, yet it communicates on a very personal level. Tommy's struggle with Izzi's sickness, in particular, impresses upon the reader a moment of pure heartbreak: a missing ring. At the heart of The Fountain is the survival of love: the strength to face death and embrace life in spite of it. 'Welcome the pain,' it exhorts, but without any cynicism or bitterness or emo-artiste-pathos.

Personally, there is much to celebrate today, and the graphic novel only serves to drive the point further home. So laugh. Cry. Live. Die. Rejoice. It leaves behind a message of hope which is perhaps, in the end, the nicest present of all. Have a nice life, you.

A Countess Below Stairs (Eva Ibbotson)

Why did it take me years to find Eva Ibbotson? After spending an afternoon with her A Countess Below Stairs (also known as The Secret Countess), I was determined to find more of her books. Powerbooks carries her children's books, but of her adult titles, I could only find A Song for Summer, and I'm not really in the mood for a World War II novel.

What was it with A Countess Below Stairs that drew me to the story? The premise is a fairy-tale. Young Anna Grazinsky escapes the revolution that destroys her pampered life in Russia and finds herself in the employ of the soon-to-be-married Earl of Westerholme. Please. We know how this will end, right? But Ms. Ibbotson draws a very charming heroine in Anna, all grace and smiles and never-say-die attitude. While one may complain about the flatness of her characters (the good guys are unerringly good, the bad guys are comically bad, and there are really no surprises here), they somehow seem fresh under Ms. Ibbotson's pen. Muriel Hardwicke, the ambitious woman to whom young Rupert is engaged, is obsessed with eugenics and makes for a fine caricature of one both deplorable and hilarious. Ollie Byrne, the Westerholme's crippled neighbor, is simply adorable whether she's bursting with laughter or sulking in her room. Proom, the kind yet rigid butler, is as enterprising as he is observant, the hidden knight with shining cutlery. And Ms. Ibbotson even throws in a dog.

Countess is a feel-good romance, a historical fairy-tale, plain and simple. A romance fan won't be able to keep from smiling throughout the read. It's no Gosford Park, but readers will get a feel of the class system at work at the Westerholmes' as well as its surrounding households. It's no Pride and Prejudice, but it creates a satisfying romance amid the social commentary. The novel is infused with Anna's innocence and good nature, that somehow it's enough to leave you thinking that all is right with the world.

Engineering.

Love. Precocious evolutionary move, fashioning Cylons to be capable of experiencing it. I don't know if it was engineered as a tactical imperative, but...it's not for the faint-hearted, is it? Perhaps Cylon love is not the same as human love. Perhaps it's designed to hurt a little less. - Romo Lampkin, Battlestar Galactica

Let's be Cylons together.

Un Lun Dun (China Mieville)

Less than twelve hours in Singapore and already I needed a distraction from what could have been (or could not) the most important interview of my life, unless I count Judgement Day. Armed with a map, an umbrella, and a phone I couldn't use, I braved the rains to look for my favorite bookstores.

It seemed I wasn't the only one negotiating through unknown territory that day. At Borders, I picked up China Mieville's Un Lun Dun, where friends Zanna and Deeba find themselves in a strange version of their own home. While UnLondon immediately brings images of Neil Gaiman's London Below to mind, the new-world-as-seen-by-a-young-protagonist reminds me more of Clive Barker's Abarat. But let's set aside the comparisons. In fact, that's what Un Lun Dun is all about: the breaking of preconceptions and stereotypes.

The city's Chosen One isn't the Chosen One. The prophecies are useless. The amazing quest that one would expect young heroes from other dimensions would undergo doesn't happen the way you'd picture it. In this regard, Un Lun Dun does a remarkable job to break one's notion of how a quest myth should turn out. At one point, I wanted to reason with the protagonist, "But that's not how it works!" before realizing how brainwashed I've been by the fundamental structure of quests. Still, Joseph Campbell's monomyth holds true: hero enters a new world and is called to a quest, hero faces trials, hero reaches resolution, hero returns. (Or at least, that's the theory in a nutshell.) And that, of course, is what happens here. In a nutshell.

It took me a while before I could get used to the chapter breaks. Forgive me, Mr. Mieville, but the term I will use now is 'sputtering' because reading the first few chapters reminded me of my first time behind the wheel. The car moved a meter or so, and then stopped. Another meter, and then stopped. While I have never gotten the hang of driving, I was thankfully able to adjust to Un Lun Dun's flow.

The commonality of myths is often addressed in fiction, but it's refreshing to see it in a work primarily addressed to children. Un Lun Dun isn't just for fans of Mr. Mieville, who will appreciate his change of pace (and perhaps, like me, try to find my own UnGun); it's also for anyone who's looking for a fun (and maybe read-aloud) adventure with umbrellas and milk cartons, but one that still leaves the reader with something to think about as he closes the book.

The Thirteenth Tale (Diane Setterfield)

That's not quite the book I own. You see, mine has the word 'bestseller' bannered across the top, a word that made me stay away from this intriguing read for so long. I know it sounds elitist, but I guess I just don't like being part of the hype. Until Tuesday came, and I was looking at five hours doing nothing at the airport save for breathing (I forgot to grab some reading material from my own shelves). So Diane Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale became mine, and I didn't regret the impulse buy at all -- 'bestseller' claim notwithstanding.

Margaret Lea is a bookkeeper and an amateur biographer who is asked to write the elusive life story of Vida Winter, an acclaimed novelist. Ms. Winter has had several biographies published, none of them real. Now faced with illness and a haunting desire ('Tell me the truth,' a young man once implores her, a request she doesn't grant), Ms. Winters hopes to finally exorcise the ghosts of her past via a written reckoning. Ms. Setterfield's protagonist, Margaret, is not without her own ghosts, and

What I like most about The Thirteenth Tale is how nothing is wasted in the flashbacks that slowly reveal Ms. Winters' story. They do more than shed light on the characters; they are all important plot points. (Wow. That sounds overly simplistic. Hooray, bluntness.) Where other authors dwell on subplots to enrich the mood and heighten the emotion (a practice I certainly don't frown upon), Ms. Setterfield commands each scene to concentrate on the main story, which really works in this case. I also liked how the time frame was deliberately vague; there are clues, of course, but it added to the mysterious air the way I couldn't quite put my finger on the era.

The story plays up the strangeness of twins, and this certainly made me take a step back from the characters in Ms. Winters' past. I doubt the readers were truly meant to empathize with them in the first place, drawn the way they were as players in a gothic tale. But Ms. Winters' narration, as well as Margaret's involvement with the matter and her personal struggles, gives the events a human touch, and you begin to feel the bereavement with which these women have not come to terms.

I had spent more than five hours at the airport plus another three on the plane, and still I kept reading. I was excited to start my personal adventure in a different country, and still I kept reading. For a gothic mystery, The Thirteenth Tale is heavy and engaging. I couldn't resist the pull of the pages, and I couldn't guess how it was going to end. For a drama, it has just fallen short of moving me to tears, but it still manages to depict the bonds of sisterhood -- and its pains and losses and obsessions.

The Last Unicorn (Peter S. Beagle)

Nothing about my recent run of good fortune could have prepared me for the attending joy that followed my sighting of Peter Beagle's The Last Unicorn. Say what you will about heroic and traditional fantasy, but The Last Unicorn remains, for me, one of the must-read books of the genre.

Where one expects a happily-ever-after in a familiar medieval world, Mr. Beagle instead fashions a not-so-traditional tale. Schmendrick the magician frees the last unicorn from Mommy Fortuna's Midnight Carnival and the two set off to find what has happened to the other unicorns. Their search leads them to King Haggard, and to help the unicorn from sharing the same fate as the others of her kind, Schmendrick transforms her into a woman. It is as a woman that she discovers other magic that exists in the world--magic like love, and courage, and sacrifice.

Schmendrick's act eventually leads the unicorn, now known as the Lady Amalthea, to declare that 'I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do (p. 207).' But no one can claim that it was pure folly, for the change advents an inordinate amount of good as well. It is with this dynamic of regret and consequence that Mr. Beagle injects bittersweet realism into his fantasy, resulting in a tale over which young girls may swoon tragically and about which adults may nod sagely: "I've been there, I know that, I am no hero but I do." (Is realism always to be bittersweet? We have heroes and magicians and ex-unicorns who would probably attest to that.)

I grew up reciting lines from The Last Unicorn as my mantra. 'Take me with you,' Schmendrick implores the unicorn, 'for laughs, for luck, for the unknown (p. 44),' and she does. I came on that journey so many years ago, and as I close my new copy, I'm glad that I've never really left the path. Mr. Beagle's prose is as familiar as the dreams we inhabit, and never a stranger.

The Truth-Teller's Tale (Sharon Shinn)

Twin sisters Adele and Eleda of the palindromic names are far from having identical personalities. But faster than you can say "Sweet Valley," The Truth-Teller's Tale takes you to the medieval countryside where Edela is a Truth-Teller, who is compelled to tell the truth when asked. Her sister Adele, on the other hand, is a Secret-Keeper, never betrays anything she hears in confidence. Not exactly Sweet Valley fare.

Young readers may find the plot likeable enough, despite the way it moves to a predictable denoument. Even with the additional complications brought by forbidden romances, arranged marriages, and mistaken identities, Truth-Teller offers no major surprises. But I find that its appeal lies in this simplicity. At the heart of it, Truth-Teller is a tale of two sisters growing up into their own women, making decisions on their own, and celebrating their differences. Another plus is that the rural setting of Merendon and their customs are well-realized, so reading this is a truly relaxing experience. All you'll need is a wide meadow and a river that runs through it. I only wish that the novel had dealt more with the twins' struggling with their roles, especially at the beginning, when they were only starting to come into their own. True, the moral dilemma emerged towards the climax, but I'm of an opinion that readers would relate to the twins more if they showed us their vulnerability early on.

Fans of Shannon Hale's The Goose Girl and Cynthia Voigt's Jackaroo may want to give Truth-Teller a try. It's not as action-packed as the other books, but all three emanate with the same spirit of discovery and coming-of-age in a medieval world.

Interlude: Sentimentality.

For a span of nearly two weeks, I have inhabited the pockets of a dream called Proposal Daisakusen, an 11-episode Japanese drama. My tears come easily, despite all my best intentions, but this time, they burst right on cue with every single episode. That effing dorama had my number. Called every night, and then some.

Here's to coffee milk, second chances, and the lives we leave unlived.