List-erature: Summer Teen Reads

My fifteen-year old sister and I barely have anything in common these days. She educates me on the benefits of lip primer and moisturizers with SPFs, she teases me for buying my clothes from Old Navy, and she mentally catalogues every outfit she will wear for the first month of her sophomore year. But one thing I feel that we will share for a long time is our love for reading. When she and the rest of my family visited me for their summer vacation, she brought with her a bunch of books to lend me--and ended up buying even more during her two-month stay.

As with most teen titles that my sister reads, the central theme among this collection is young love, although in varying degrees. From light and flirtatious to serious and even tragic, these books are great to pick up during the summer--or, if you're like me, eager for any excuse to reconnect with your younger self:


1. Seventeenth Summer (Maureen Daly). Published in 1942, Seventeenth Summer is regarded as one of the first (if not the first) YA books around. Of course, we didn't know this at the time we bought it so my sister found it rather old-fashioned, Googled it, and then resumed reading with new eyes. While the story of girl meets boy then goes off to college sounds tame and relatively uneventful by contemporary standards, Seventeenth Summer is quiet and observant and contains an innocence not often found on today's YA shelves. Angie and Jack have their own misunderstandings like any normal teens, prompting Angie to say that 'Just because you kissed a boy doesn't mean you're going steady,' before later asking herself with fragile sensitivity, 'Why do I keep remembering the smell of pipe smoke that you can't even see, pungent in the night air, and that small, warm silence when someone is near you? (p.139)'

2. The Lonely Hearts Club (Elizabeth Eulberg). Penny Lane and her friends have been burned by love, but what starts out to be a friendly pact to swear off guys suddenly becomes an after-school club that shakes up the entire school. I was surprised to enjoy this book as much as I did. It's not just about teen romance, it's also about friendship and being true to yourself, themes that are admittedly overdone in YA but are tackled with a clearly upbeat sense in Ms Eulberg's debut.

3. Two-Way Street (Lauren Barnholdt). I was really looking forward to reading this that I had my sister buy me a copy. But maybe because of my high expectations, I ended up on a lukewarm note. It's about Jordan and Courtney, who have just split up but find themselves taking a road trip together because it's too late for them to change their plans. There's a lot of tension between these two, especially when you find out that there's more to the breakup than meets the eye. I liked the way the plot is presented: jumping from Courtney's to Jordan's perspective, not to mention going back and forth from their first months together to the current road trip. But I guess I didn't really quite warm up to the characters or to the way they dealt with their (predictable) situation. Without giving too much away, I feel that Jordan could have done something other than what he did. Both their reasons for doing things never seem too clear to me. Of course, that would leave us without a story, but I guess this was just one of those times when I couldn't suspend my disbelief enough.

4. One Lonely Degree (CK Kelly Martin). This is one of the heavier books in this list, as it tackles sensitive issues like date rape, separation and betrayal. Finn's traumatic sexual encounter with a popular boy has scarred her emotionally, and the only person she can turn to is her best friend Audrey. So when Audrey starts liking Finn's childhood friend Jersy, she only gives them her blessing. But when Audrey goes away for the summer, Finn realizes that it's not as easy as she thinks. Ms Martin's novel is very controlled with its emotions that it doesn't dissolve into drama and hysterics. One of my favorite moments is when Finn puts on a Liz Phair song as she blocks out her parents' argument and realizes that it 'is the longest song in the world (p.37)'. As far removed as I may be from Finn's world, Ms Martin has a way of making it very believable.

5. The Juliet Club (Suzanne Harper). Serious Kate finds herself in Verona, studying Shakespeare and answering letters to lovelorn teens through The Juliet Club. Of course, Shakespeare references are abound, including a plot that borrows heavily from Romeo and Juliet. Unfortunately, I feel that Ms Harper tries to do much with the story. There are three main love stories involving all six of the Club's teen volunteers (how coincidental), but none of these are as thoroughly explored as I would have liked. There's even a few chapters about Kate's friends who act like a Greek chorus, which I doubt the story needed. On a minor note, all the letter writers sound as if they came from the same American high school (don't even get me started on how high school students would know about The Juliet Club, much less write to a fictional character via snail mail instead of spilling their guts on some online forum). But one of the book's strengths is its lovely descriptions (its Italian setting still makes it a good choice for a summer read) and I think that cutting down on some of the other plots would have helped turn The Juliet Club into a more charming read.

6. She's So Dead to Us (Kieran Scott). This is one of the more enjoyable (contemporary) teen titles that I've read in a long time (I've always been a fantasy/sci-fi/historical kind of girl). Ally returns to the posh upper-crust neighborhood that she was forced to leave two years ago and finds out that life is different at the bottom of the pecking order. This Mean Girls-meets-Gossip Girl title may sound derivative but Ms Scott keeps it fun. Her main cast are not cardboard cut-out stock characters which really makes me want to know more about them and what make them tick. Too bad that this is the start of a series--and it really ended on a cliffhanger. I'm still looking forward to more.

7. Geek Magnet (Kieran Scott). My sister and I really liked Kieran Scott's writing that we immediately bought this one. In this book, KJ, certified geek magnet, tries to get with the one she likes by getting rid of the ones she doesn't and realizes that it's not always easy to trade one for the other. It wasn't as fun for me as She's so Dead to Us was, but if you're a fan of teen romances, this one doesn't disappoint. I liked Geek Magnet's male lead a whole lot better than Dead to Us's Jake Graydon.

8. Boy Crazy (Hailey Abbott). It was one of those teen books that does not easily appeal to me, bursting with pop culture and a contemporary take on dating and friendship, so anything more than that might be unfair. It's a popular series, I hear.

9. Twenty Boy Summer (Sarah Ockler). My sister says she's tired of reading books where the protagonist tries to deal with the loss of a significant other. But this, this was just different for us. It moved me beyond all my expectations. Best friends Abby and Frankie spend a summer together, trying to put themselves together after the unexpected loss of Frankie's brother Matt (and Abby's secret boyfriend). But when he dies, Abby not only has to heal herself but she has to heal in private, painfully aware that the world does not allow her to fully grieve for this boy she loved. Ms Ockler's command of language and her acuteness of definition, turned what could easily have been over-the-top melodrama into a story that is poignant, and diamond-sharp, and real. She writes about 'all the old ghosts I tried to leave home float like dandelion seed wishes (p85)' or that 'a banished mermaid reads my letters and weeps endlessly for a love she'll never know(p289).' Just lovely. As someone who's known loss but has never been fully able to write about it, I am always left catching my breath when someone else does.

The Infernal Devices Book One: Clockwork Angel (Cassandra Clare)

I didn't really expect to read Cassandra Clare's His Mortal Instruments Trilogy until I volunteered to 'test' it for my boss' daughter. While I wouldn't count it among my favorites, the series was still fun and I'd recommend it for some light reading. Too bad I thought some of the themes were too mature for my boss' sixth-grade daughter.

When one of my favorite store clerks recommended the news Cassandra Clare series, I was only moderately pleased. But that was before I read the blurb: Victorian England! Fantasy! Romance! Victorian England! (Yes, Bibliarch Glorietta, you have done a good job again.)

As far as first books go, I found Clockwork Angel a more engaging read than City of Bones and not because I am more fascinated with turn-of-the-century London than modern-day America. Angel's Tessa Gray proved to be a more fleshed-out heroine than Mortal Instruments' Clary. In the story, a shadowy figure called The Magister is eager to get his hands on Tessa's unique shapeshifting abilities. Her only recourse is to turn to the Shadowhunters for help, Nephilim who fight to protect the world from demons and to keep order among those known as the Downworlders. For Tessa, who shares society's very traditional views and has an unfailing loyalty to her family, being with the Shadowhunters is a test of her character and strength, especially as she must work with them to find the truth behind The Magister's growing threat. Tessa's ability to change her appearance after touching another's possession and then actually feel her new form's thoughts and emotions is not just unique to Ms Clare's Shadowhunter world, but is also a refreshing touch to the old shapeshifter story.

Fans of The Mortal Instruments will love how this new series explores the original characters' ancestors, but new readers will definitely feel that they need to read TMI to enjoy this. The action in Clockwork Angel unfolds quickly (finished this book in less than a day), though rather predictably. The characters are the real draw, in my opinion. I found Tessa more likable than most YA fantasy leads, and at the same time, I was also fascinated by two new characters: husband-and-wife team Henry and Charlotte. Charlotte is repeatedly called on to prove that she is a worthy leader of the Shadowhunter Institute despite her youth and inexperience, while struggling to find her place beside a husband who seems to prefer the company of his machines and inventions more than his own wife's. And as most YA fantasies go, there is a love story, too, but I'm not too attached to it. Yet.

Truth be told, Ms Clare's new series has now jumped into my Guilty Pleasures List. It definitely has all the right elements I need to distract me from the less-than-exciting things that go on between waking up and falling asleep.

The Girls.

Find yourself a cup of tea; the teapot is behind you. Now tell me about hundreds of things. -Saki

There is much truth to this, or so I found this weekend. To celebrate my friend Kaoko's upcoming wedding in October, we planned a bachelorette party for her in Singapore. We escaped a mummy, danced three million years ago, and ended up drinking tea for three hours straight. Just four thirtysomething friends (five, if you include one very patient husband) rediscovering a world of warmth and possibility that they once knew as girls. There really is something about free-flowing tea that unleashes hundreds of stories, whether you're in the company of good friends or lost in your own imaginings.


I had Weekend in Moscow, a light and fragrant green tea with rose petals and almonds. It was exquisite. I could almost picture myself curled up against a window reading a Regency classic like Georgette Heyer's Cotillion or an adult fairy tale like Ali Shaw's Girl with Glass Feet or Kelly Link's fantastically macabre Pretty Monsters, with a cup of that tea, waiting for the world to go by.

Thomas the Rhymer (Ellen Kushner)

I did some emotional spring cleaning, realized that there were some issues in my life that I needed to fix, and began running away from things instead of facing them. Ran away from home. Ran away from friends. Even ran away from my blogs, as if that were possible. Now I know better--or think I do--so it is only fitting that I let a tale of disappearances herald me back.

Ellen Kushner opens her lush Thomas the Rhymer from Gavin's perspective, a farmer who lets a bedraggled harper into his home. He and his wife Meg find Thomas charming and spontaneous, an unabashed flirt, but the childless couple soon learn to look upon him fondly as if he were their own wayward son. Thomas doesn't stay for long, though, which Gavin understands: 'Madmen and dreamers, your rhymers don't live in the world like the rest of us do (p. 24).'

But despite his wanderlust, Thomas eventually finds his way back to Gavin and Meg, and it is in the quiet days he spends with them that he meets Elspeth. Something blossoms between them, and it would seem that the harper has found his match until one day, Thomas goes for a walk in the Eildon Hills and never returns.

Ms Kushner shifts her perspective from Gavin to Thomas himself, who recounts seven years of silence in the enchanting and opulent prison called Elfland where Thomas finds himself both pet and pawn in elven court. Enamored by the Elf Queen yet determined to find his way back to Middle-Earth, Thomas uses his wits to win his freedom. When he finally returns, he is a changed man, and finds that the world has also changed without him.

I have nothing but praise for Ms Kushner's craft. She deftly moves from one narrator to the other: Gavin's deliberate speech, Thomas' passion, and later, Meg's motherly observations and Elspeth's recollection. Each emotion is clear-cut and tangible, despite the unfamiliarity of the characters' situations. Ms Kushner inserts ballads and rhymes into the text but far from making it sound disjointed, the narrative becomes richer for it.

When Thomas and Elspeth meet after his seven-year sojourn, the exchange is bitter, unguarded, electric. I find it one of the most moving scenes I've read in recent memory. Elspeth recounts later, 'but then I became glad that he was there for me to ignore, to pass in the hall, to not ask for the salt (p.247).' For all its encounters with the fantastic, Thomas the Rhymer is replete with moments like this: a glimpse into lives that are not unlike our own.

100 Book List Countdown

Possessed by either optimism or hubris last year, I vowed to finish 100 books for 2009. And though I've been quite slow blogging about them, I am happy to report to my three readers that I closed my last book on December 27, four days before the year was out. I picked up three fresh books after that, but have since been taking my own sweet time.

Here is the complete list, excluding titles that I merely re-read this year (so yeah, this list could have been longer had I concentrated on books new to me, but there's so much joy to be found in re-exploring a good book):
1. Stick Out Your Tongue (Ma Jian)
2. Special Topics in Calamity Physics (Marisha Pessl)
3. The Princess Diaries 10 (Meg Cabot)
4. Austenland (Shannon Hale)
5. My Swordhand is Singing (Marcus Sedgewick)
6. No one belongs here more than you. (Miranda July)
7. The Little Book of Forensics (David Owen)
8. Color: A National History of the Palette (Victoria Finlay)
9. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
10. An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England (Brock Clarke)
11. My Mistress' Sparrow is Dead (edited by Jeffrey Eugenides)
12. Night Watch (Sergei Lukyanenko)
13. Royal Assassin (Robin Hobb)
14. Becoming Bindy McKenzie (Jaclyn Moriarty)
15. Feeling Sorry for Celia (Jaclyn Moriarty)
16. The Princess and the Hound (Mette Ivie Harrison)
17. Never Let Me Go (Kazuo Ishiguro)
18. The Seduction of the Crimson Rose (Laura Willig)
19. Malinche (Laura Esquival)
20. Getting to Know You (David Marusek)
21. The Stone Rose (Jacqueline Rayner)
22. Winter Rose (Patricia A. McKillip)
23. The Man of My Dreams (Curtis Sittenfeld)
24. Silent on the Moor (Deanna Raybourn)
25. Eat Pray Love (Elizabeth Gilbert)
26. What I Did For Love (Susan Elizabeth Philips)
27. The Changeling Sea (Patricia McKillip)
28. The Resurrection Casket/Doctor Who series (Justin Richards)
29. Kissed by an Angel (Elizabeth Chandler)
30. The Power of Love (Elizabeth Chandler)
31. Soul Mates (Elizabeth Chandler)
32. Tintin and the Secret of Literature (Tom McCarthy)
33. Proust and the Squid (Maryanne Wolf)
34. The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric and Discredited Diseases (edited by Jeff Vandermeer and Mark Roberts)
35. The Sugar Queen (Sarah Addison Allen)
36. General Winston's Daughter (Sharon Shinn)
37. The Observations (Jane Harris)
38. Lady of the Glen (Jennifer Roberson)
39. Criss Cross (Lynne Rae Perkins)
40. A Curse Dark as Gold (Elizabeth C Bunce)
41. Belle/Once Upon a Time series (Cameron Dokey)
42. Pretty Monsters (Kelly Link)
43. The Time Traveler's Wife (Audrey Niffenegger)
44. My Imaginary Ex (Mina V. Esguerra)
45. The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks (E. Lockheart)
46. Carved in Stone (Linda Newbery)
47. The Mysterious Benedict Society (Trenton Lee Stewart)
48. When It Happens (Susane Colasanti)
49. Every Soul a Star (Wendy Mass)
50-53. Secret Sorceress (+ 3 other books)
54. The Ninth Stone (Kylie Fitzpatrick)
55. Devil's Cub (Georgette Heyer)
56. Ransom My Heart (Mia Thermopolis/Meg Cabot)
57. The Historian (Elizabeth Kostova)
58. Murkmere (Patricia Elliott)
59. Ambergate (Patricia Elliott)
60. The Reluctant Heiress (Eva Ibbotson)
61. The Red Queen's Daughter (Jacqueline Kolosov)
62. Agnes and the Hitman (Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer)
63. The Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Joanne Fluke)
64. Eon Dragon Reborn (Alison Goodman)
65. Thirteen Reasons Why (Jay Asher)
66. The Book of Lost Things (John Conolly)
67. Carpe Diem (Autumn Cornwell)
68. Dracula's Heir: An Interactive Mystery (Sam Stall)
69. A Far Cry from Kensington (Muriel Sparks)
70. The Knife of Never Letting Go (Patrick Ness)
71. The Ask and the Answer (Patrick Ness)
72. The Lighting Thief (Rick Riordan)
73. The Sea of Monsters (Rick Riordan)
74. The Titan's Curse (Rick Riordan)
75. The Battle of the Labyrinth (Rick Riordan)
76. Odd and the Frost Giants (Neil Gaiman)
77. The Tea Rose (Jennifer Donnelly)
78. City of Bones (Cassandra Clare)
79. Impossible (Nancy Werner)
80. Making Money (Terry Pratchett)
81. The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey (Trenton Lee Stewart)
82. I am a Dalek/Doctor Who series (Gareth Roberts)
83. Thud! (Terry Pratchett)
84. Blink (Malcolm Gladwell)
85. Salt A World History (Mark Kurlansky)
86. Stargazer: The Life and Times of the Telescope (Fred Watson)
87. Tigerheart (Peter David)
88. An Abundance of Katherines (John Green)
89. The Sultan and the Mermaid Queen (Paul Spencer Sochaczewski)
90. Fevre Dream (George R.R. Martin)
91. Grail Prince (Nancy McKenzie)
92. Naomi and Ely's No Kiss List (Rachel Cohn and David Levithan)
93. The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie (Alan Bradley)
94. Bewitching Season (Marissa Doyle)
95. Wild Orchid/Once Upon a Time (Cameron Dokey)
96. Hush (Donna Jo Napoli)
97. The Glass Book of the Dream Eaters Volume 1 (Gordon Dahlquist)
98. The Woman in Black (Susan Hill)
99. The Forest of Hands and Teeth (Carrie Ryan)
100. Anathem (Neal Stephenson)


On the surface, I've learned that:
1) 100 books in a year is an average of 3.65 per book, but I can actually consume about 2-3 books in a day, provided they're really light reads. Much thanks go to YA and romances, which prove to be the quickest reads for me.

2) Of all the books I've read this year, only about 20 of them come highly recommended. Okay, the actual number might be a little off; I'll have to go over my list. Not that the others are bad. I have more than enough good words to say about most of them, but only a precious few have reached my personal favorites category. The ratio seems extremely disappointing to me at this point.

3) Anathem was the hardest book I've had to read in a long time. It's about math and philosophy and aliens and contains words like polycosmic metatheorics. But thank you, Mr Stephenson. It's an experience I won't soon forget.

4) This year, I read what could be the crappiest romance series I've ever encountered. It had angels. And cheese. Plenty of cheese. Urgh. Why didn't I stop?

5) I was disappointed with myself for not picking up more Filipino books. I actually read part of Sarge Lacuesta's Flames and Other Stories and Ricky Lee's Para Kay B but never got to finish them. I vow to read more next year.

I don't think I'm crazy enough to go for another hundred next year after this, not especially after feeling pressured by mid-December. I'm glad I tried this, though. 100 is a nice number, especially when my instinct tells me my annual average would fall between a comfortable 60-80 books/year range. Looking back, I realize my list has leaned towards the lighter side of the reading scale so perhaps for 2010, I'll try to challenge myself with wider, more diverse reading material. Now there's a resolution. Happy new year, friends!

The Pursuit.

An exact copy of my life is being lived a million light years away
- Eric Gamalinda, from Poem Not Written in Catalan

I am always chasing after the memory of a man long gone. Twenty years ago, he had climbed a Wall, had brought home an autumn leaf, and had told me how he wanted to step inside a forbidden city. I am always chasing. I found the city he loved, crowded and mysterious and smelling of summer. It is not yet autumn, and I am still chasing. My breath comes in short puffs as I hold on to ancient stones that snake through mountains, hills. I cannot remember the sound of his voice. I am forever chasing after him. I have not arrived.

August 2009 Book List

While I have been religiously documenting my reading material, I haven't been as vigilant when it comes to writing down my thoughts about each one. My August list--relatively short because of my preparations for a little vacation in Beijing--now sounds like a good place to start.

1. The Red Queen's Daughter (Jacqueline Kolosov)
A friend of mine had glowing recommendations over this book. Another began foaming at the mouth at its mere mention. A bit wary over anything that would produce the second reaction, I lowered my expectations for Red Queen's Daughter. Perhaps because of that, Ms. Kolosov's fantasy take on Tudor history didn't quite win me over. Upon later reflection, however, I realized that it was also due to a rather disappointing execution of what could have been an exciting premise. The protagonist was a Mary Sue-ish character, who seemed to me sorely lacking in personality and strength. The romance was intended to be a pivotal part of the plot but I felt it was sorely underdeveloped. Suddenly, the characters were earth-shatteringly in love after pages of filtered lust/attraction. At this point, the plot careened into a mad finish. I suppose it was only the idea that the author did not choose the easier ending that saved this book for me. I have no love for Mary Seymour as a character, but I am still, in all honesty, fairly interested in what Ms. Kolosov will come up with next.

2. Agnes and the Hitman (Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer)
Sometime during the middle of August, I visited an old friend of mine. Celine is now taking care of her one-year old son Raymond and is buying and selling used books on the side. Her house is filled with boxes of pre-loved titles -- 'Tis so much joy!, claims Emily Dickinson -- which prompted me to give in to my guilty pleasures and search for titles that wouldn't be first on my must-buy list. One of them is this collaboration by romance author Ms. Crusie and action-adventure writer Bob Mayer. It's not hard to guess which author wrote which part, but they do an admirable job of bridging the gap between the genres. The result is a romantic yet action-filled romp that revolves around weddings, flamingos, and the mob.

3. The Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Joanne Fluke)
I've always seen these Hannah Swensen mysteries but never really took an interest in them until I saw the first book of the series in Celine's treasure trove. Celine sold it to me for a dollar, and I found a new mystery series that I could really sink my teeth into. Part of what I find charming in Chocolate Chip is how it incorporates Hannah's baking recipes in between the narrative. The dishes sound yummy, and they add a little characterization to the story as they include Hannah's thoughts about certain people. Now, in no means is this a literary trailblazer; it just means I find it a nice touch to a light and fairly straightforward murder mystery. In this book, local baker Hannah helps out her brother-in-law with a murder case, especially when the victim is holding one of her cookies. It introduces a lot of other characters around their town Lake Eden, which I strongly believe sets us up for future mysteries. One thing I wasn't too keen about was how Hannah fared better than her brother-in-law Bill, a police officer, when it came to sniffing out clues. It was still enjoyable, though, and I will definitely be looking forward to reading more mysteries -- and recipes -- from Ms. Fluke.

4. Eon: Dragoneye Reborn (Alison Goodman)
Echoes of Oriental legend resound in Ms. Goodman's novel, also known as The Two Pearls of Wisdom (the lovelier title, true, but after finishing the book, the first title made more sense to me). My friend told me that reading it before our Beijing trip would have gotten me in the mood to explore the city, but I'm still glad that I read it after Beijing because the trip painted a clearer visual image for the scenes in the book. Ms. Goodman pens the exciting account of Eon, a crippled twelve-year old training for the rare chance to be chosen as a Dragoneye. But Eon is really sixteen-year old Eona, and in a country where females take lesser roles (and a female apprentice is completely taboo), she has to hide her identity to survive. Eon is destined for greater things, else there will be no book, and it is through this new role at the Imperial Court do we appreciate Ms. Goodman's ability to weave a believable and triumphant tale of courage. While the novel predictably follows Joseph Campbell's monomyth, it engages us with two main struggles: first, as Eon survives the magic and politics at court and second, as Eona comes to terms with her own identity. Eon/Eona has admirable qualities but her main weakness chafes at me. For a rather smart girl, her insecurities have made her irritatingly illogical.

5. Thirteen Reasons Why (Jay Asher)
My thirteen-year old sister and I are fond of trading YA titles. One book that we discovered together is Jay Asher's debut novel. Thirteen Reasons Why follows how well-liked Clay receives seven tapes from Hannah Baker, a classmate who has recently committed suicide. Hannah has sent these tapes to the thirteen people who have contributed to her death, and Clay, who has been in love with Hannah, agonizes why he is included in this list. As he listens to the tapes, he begins to piece together the hardships and heartbreaks that Hannah faced throughout high school, enough to make her choose the way she did. Both Clay and Hannah's voices are genuine and their story will stay with readers even after they have closed their books. Suicide is always a hard topic to deal with (I had a cousin who killed himself when we were 19 and personally, there was a lot of anger mixed with the grief) but Mr. Asher handles it deftly and sensitively.

6. The Book of Lost Things (John Connolly)
This started out slow for me. But it has been on my to-read list for such a long time that I was determined to see it through. As a huge fan of fantasy novels and children's/YA books, I've adopted a 'seen-that, read-that' attitude when it comes to worldbuilding. I was a bit disappointed when Mr. Connolly's The Book of Lost Things seemed to wander into familiar territory and didn't look like it was going to make any huge departures. But despite that, it carried with it a sadness as it delved into family issues -- of growing up, of acceptance, of selflessness -- which I truly admired. David is barely coping with the death of his mother when his father falls in love with another woman. Not long after, David is part of a new family, one he resents. When David crosses over to another world after a WWII bomber crashes into their garden, he encounters one fantastical archetype after another, and it is after he goes further into the kingdom that the story picks up for me. Side stories of twisted fairy tales season David's journey, which of course, is a reflection of the fears and struggles of his real life. Perhaps the strongest element I encountered here is the Book of Lost Things itself, owned by the old King and which David believes holds the key to finding his way home. Anyone who's read L. Frank Baum can tell you that it's not the destination but the journey that counts, but I found something heartbreaking in the story of the old King and his precious book that made the whole read worthwhile in the end.

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.

The Etched City (KJ Bishop)

When I was in fifth or sixth grade, I wanted my own Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper. They were bright pink and pretty and nearly every girl had them, but they were really too expensive for my humble allowance. But because I still wished to be part of the herd, I meh-ed until my parents gave in--only to realize that no amount of trapping or keeping was going to save my school stuff from my supreme disorganization. And that I hated bright pink. I suppose that should have made me learn my lesson that not everything I wanted was actually right for me. Sadly, I'm slow on the uptake.

When I put down my copy of The Etched City, all I could think about was that Trapper Keeper. You see, for years now, I thought I wanted to go to Ashamoil and I ended up wishing I had taken the wrong train.

KJ Bishop's The Etched City chronicles the lives of two ex-revolutionaries looking for a second chance: Gwynn the merciless, and Raule, the doctor who rues the conscience she has lost long ago. After a brief and tenuous alliance as they journey through the Copper County, they reach Ashamoil and part ways.

Let's get one thing clear before I proceed. I admire Ms. Bishop's ability to create the grandiose yet crumbling city of Ashamoil, where the decadent and the grotesque carve out their lives. But the metaphysical talk was sorely lost on me. See, I want to be fair to Ms. Bishop by reminding you that I am likely not her audience, so anything you read here should not be taken as gospel truth. But I also want to be fair to readers who might want more fantasy than philosophy by warning you about this bit beforehand.

Proceeding. When the characters find themselves in Ashamoil, it doesn't take me long to fall out of like with the book. (I must be crazy. The book's well-received. It was nominated for the 2004 World Fantasy Awards.) Still, I found Gwynn one-dimensional and sadly, Raule doesn't get half the attention that Gwynn does. Gwynn is enamored by the engraver, Beth Constanzin, who inducts him into the surreal within Ashamoil. Beth may be wise and temptingly enigmatic, but I'm still not hooked by the story. It is Beth, though, who utters one of my favorite lines from the book: 'With inspiration and passion, and perhaps a little tragedy. Or perhaps cynically, in back rooms, behind closed doors (p. 157),' she says when asked of her art. I suppose I can never really dislike artists.

Set-up, set-up, set-up, and nearly twenty chapters later, rising action. I meandered along with the languid narration only to reach a climax and resolution that I thought was too deus ex machina. I got off the train. While I rejoice that writers such as Ms. Bishop give us more than the Tolkien fare, it saddens me that we automatically assume that fantasy novels that still have their share of knights and wizards are bad. At the end of the day, all I really want from a fantasy novel--or anything, for that matter, even Trapper Keepers--is one that will leave me with the magic of satisfaction.

The Secret History of the Pink Carnation (Lauren Willig)

Procrastination, thy name is Chris. I had finished Lauren Willig's The History of the Pink Carnation and The Masque of the Black Tulip in less than a day since I borrowed them from Oz a few weeks back, but I was too preoccupied with other matters (like the naming of dogs and the purchasing of blue hair dye) to write. I suppose some books can wait to be reviewed. But here, my first historical romance review. Reviews, I mean.

I started out with Ms. Willig's Pink Carnation only because it's logical to begin with the first book in any trilogy, even if it was the plot of the second book that I liked better. Still, first things first. Meg Cabot calls the book a "genre-bending read" since it has two love stories in one. Not quite genre-bending in my book (nor highly original: think Possession, The Conjurer's Bird or, if you want to stick to the historical romance genre, Remembrance), but still very much worth the read if you like this sort of thing. And I do. So, yay.

Pink Carnation introduces us to Eloise Kelly, who is England to finish her dissertation on aristocratic espionage. Research, research, meets descendant of one of her topics, earns access to private journals, meets dashing but snooty grandson, sparks. Anyway, she learns about the identity of the Pink Carnation via the letters of Amy Balcourt, who wants to join the league of aristocratic spies (not because it was fashionable at that time). Amy meets the dashing Purple Gentian, meets his alter-ego Lord Richard Selwick, sparks. Also, they foil Napoleon's plans to invade England. See, I have no qualms of spoiling it all this way because we all know how these things end anyway. But more importantly, the book also introduces us to Richard's sister Henrietta, and his best friend Miles Dorrington.

Which brings us to Ms. Willig's Black Tulip. I liked Pink Carnation fair enough, but it wasn't outstandingly memorable. I must confess that I read the genre for the romance, not for its historical accuracy, so I do look for something unique about the main pair. In Pink Carnation's case, I was unforgivingly comparing it to Jude Deveraux's The Raider, whose characters, I thought, had more charm and appeal.

But Black Tulip is one of the very few romance novels I've ever read that featured a pair who were actually friends--and that in itself is memorable. It convincingly chronicles how Henrietta and Miles grow from childhood friends to lovers amidst the spying and the double-dealing going on. They argue, they get jealous, they kiss, they get confused. Wonderful pair, rerally. True, Pink Carnation had more of the spy stuff, but inevitably, it was towards Miles and Hen's tandem that I gravitated. My only (tiny) complaint about Black Tulip was that it had more of Eloise and Colin (the said dashing yet snooty grandson, who by this time isn't at all snooty, but of course we knew that). I guess I just wanted more Miles and Hen.

Despite my complaints, Ms. Willig writes fine historical romances. She shies away from the simpering female stereotype so common in this genre and manages to create situations where you don't question why her heroines don't always follow what society expects of them. And when it comes to historical accuracy, I don't think I'll be second-guessing Ms. Willig, who is a candidate for a PhD in history at Harvard. I could, you know, read up on this interesting period, but like i said: procrastination.

Saffron and Brimstone (Elizabeth Hand)

Skinny came bearing gifts. In one afternoon, I found myself the unexpected owner of KJ Bishop's The Etched City, Justina Robson's Living Next-Door to the God of Love, and Elizabeth Hand's Saffron and Brimstone.

I first saw Ms. Hand's short story collection at a local bookstore and was admittedly drawn by the reviews. Contemporary fantasy with a markedly feminine tone? Sold! But I was strapped for cash at that time and never found the book again. Thankfully, Skinny stepped in to buy me a copy in Singapore, and I tore into as soon as we parted.

Ms. Hand's gentle voice and disciplined eye made me breeze through "Cleopatra Brimstone," which I found intriguingly horrifying, though the outcome was not completely unexpected. Her "Pavane for a Prince of Air" struck a more personal chord with me as it dealt with the pain of loss, speaking of 'the impossible bargains I made at three o' clock in the morning with the pagan deities flitting about the room: what I would give up to save him, which digits, which hand, which leg; eyesight, the power of speech, an ear; two; my tongue (p 73-74).' I was beginning to like Ms. Hand more and more, even if I wasn't taking to "The Least Trumps" and "Wonderwall" well.

But it was The Lost Domain: Four Story Variations that kept me tethered to her engaging prose. Here, she speaks of eternal nymphs and muses, of what has been lost, of what has been forgotten. "Kronia" is my favorite of the quartet, with its simple flavor yet somehow wonderfully disjointed narrative. It has a certain cadence that makes reading it out loud a lovely exercise.

Fans of gritty spec fic may find Ms. Hand's kind of fantasy almost vulnerable, but there is a strength in the way she weaves her words that makes you believe that there is true magic here.

The Crimson Labyrinth (Yusuke Kishi)

Mr. Kishi actually tells you how his The Crimson Labyrinth will end. I had time to listen to him while I waited to board my flight from Kalibo, and kept on reading 26,000 feet in the air. Given the circumstances, I can't pinpoint why I couldn't put the book down: either it was really good or I just didn't want to spend two good hours doing nothing.

Or better yet, it was fairly decent and reading it was far from a waste of my time. Yeah. That must be it.

The Crimson Labyrinth, translated by Masami Isetani and Camellia Nieh, benefits from Mr. Kishi's almost instructional and extremely expository manner, which clearly depicts the unforgiving setting of this Battle Royale-meets-Lord of the Flies thriller. It's a psychological study peppered with an idiot's guide to the Australian outback. Very informative--even fun.

I didn't care much for the protagonist, though. Fujiki Yoshihiko is a forty-year old ex-broker down on his luck, but I feel that his is the type of personality that can be easily replaced by a thirty-year old schoolteacher or a mid-twenties recovering heroin addict and the story would still move. The story, after all, does not invest in him as much as it does on the whole plot, which is exciting enough if you try not to guess what comes next. Granted, that last twist was something I didn't completely predict, and I give Mr. Kishi major points for that.

The story is tight and well-paced, awarding the reader a glimpse of the fear and paranoia that would beset any unexpected contestant in a grisly reality show. Mr. Kishi has certainly gone to great lengths laying out how this weird game will play out, from the Pocket Game Kids to the checkpoints and the strange tandem of Platy and Lucifer. I suppose if I were in Fujiki's shoes, I really wouldn't last more than five hours in a game like this, so it was an education, in a way.

So Labyrinth was a bit predictable, yes, but in the end, it was still satisfying. Kept me turning the page. Convinced me that I was seeing all this unfold before my eyes. RPG was never this nightmarishly fun.

Interlude: Weirdness.

My lovely -- and newly-wed -- friend, Frances, just tagged me to play this Six Weird Things About You game. But since my little blog here is all about reading, I'm going to improvise a bit and limit my quirks to those that deal with books. Heaven knows I have enough weirdness about me.

Rules: Just cut and paste if you decide to participate in the tagging game. Each player of this game starts off by giving six weird things about themselves. People who get tagged need to write in a blog of their own six weird things as well as state the rules clearly. In the end, you need to choose six people to be tagged and list their names. After you do that, leave them each a comment letting them know you tagged them and to read your blog.

Anyway, six weird things:
1. I used to eat my books.
It was a high-fiber diet. I'd unconsciously tear out dog-eared portions and eat them. The older books tasted better. I know, I know -- my poor books! You should see my copy of The Witch of Blackbird Pond. I stopped some time around high school. Maybe I learned something from Etiquette class.

2. I keep books in my bathroom.
I have a narrow glass shelf where I place my toiletries and a steady rotation of books to keep me company. It's fun to reread stuff while you're immobile. Last ones that were there before the shelf collapsed where China Mieville's Perdido Street Station and Jude Deveraux's The Raider (oooh, wicked). Maybe a lot of you won't find this too weird since you prolly do it, too.

3. My bookshelves are genre-coordinated.
To my bed's right are my fantasy and sci-fi books (my biggest collection at four to five rows), with two rows dedicated to mystery novels. Perry Mason has to sleep beside me. To the left are the young adult and children's fiction. On the shelves beside that are my romance novels. The shelves right next to the door hold the classics and general fiction, where Asian writers have a row to themselves. I used to have a small space for my manga, but they've threatened war if they weren't allowed to expand their territory.

4. I buy multiple copies of the same books just for the covers.
I wouldn't call myself a collector, though, because I'm not anal about getting every edition in existence. But I do like having my series in the same edition. I have four editions of the Dragonlance Chronicles trilogy: 1)TSR's 1994 ed; 2) WotC's 2000 ed; 3) WotC's paperback annotated chronicles, and 4) the Special Collector's Edition (because an embossed leather cover and gilt-edged pages deserve title caps). And yes, I won't be ashamed to admit that I got the Wizards of the Coast edition because I thought Tasslehoff Burrfoot looked mighty fine on that cover.

5. I read while walking. Or should that be 'I walk while reading'?
I did that a lot back in high school and even when our agency was located along Ayala Ave. It's easy to do when you have a long stretch of sidewalk before you. Now that we moved offices to Gamboa St., I have a harder time navigating the walk. I try to do Sudoku puzzles instead.

6. I like smelling books.
Okay, maybe not that weird, but I was at a loss at what else to put. No other book-/reading-related quirk comes to mind. :P


There! Tagging Claire and Arvin, Tina, Didi, Kamelle, and Eman, if you're up to it.

The Giant's House (Elizabeth McCracken)

I like the idea of librarians; unfortunately, I have never known a librarian that I really liked. Sure, they were pleasant enough, and helpful enough, and sympathetic enough to a first grader who wanted to find out who Nancy Drew was because she was being bullied by second graders for not knowing. I always thought that the books that surrounded them would lend them some of their magic -- together and by association. But the librarians I knew have been far from magical.

Peggy Cort from Elizabeth McCracken’s The Giant's House has no delusions of being magical, either. She knows she is just a small-town librarian, reserved, withdrawn. At twenty-six, though, she meets a remarkably tall eleven-year old, and under these ordinary circumstances emerges Ms. McCracken's National Book Award Finalist.

Ms. McCracken pens a woman's loneliness with much familiarity. 'I loved him because I discovered that day, after years of practice, I had a talent for it (p. 89),' she lets Peggy narrate, as her odd friendship with the brilliant and sensitive giant, James Carlson Sweatt slowly develops into something more. The story takes place over a span of some nine, ten years so no, it's not as offensive as it sounds. The boy grows legal and reaches eight foot seven. There is no pedophilia. There is a lot of crying in the end, mostly from me.

Anyway, back to loneliness. Peggy Cort is a study in quiet desperation, although I wouldn’t really say that it is desperation that leads her to love a boy fifteen years younger than she is. She can admit to anyone that her life 'is a small, hesitant thing (p. 281).' But the advent of James opens it to more joy and more sorrow that she ever anticipated, and the wake of James leaves her to an amazement 'the way a child is amazed to discover, holding his thumb to his eye, that he can blot out a mountain (p. 282).' Thirty-five now, and still an innocent, our Ms. Cort.

Forgive me if I find the other characters a little less striking. Even adorably awkward James, memorable mostly for his height and very little else. He is very sweet though, and sensitive for a boy who has come to terms with his own freakishness and mortality at a young age; still, these traits alone do not win him places in the literary hall of unforgettable characters. I loved how Ms. McCracken imagined him up, though, placed him in the middle of a library so a spinster librarian would catalogue him into her life.

But maybe this is where the force of Ms. McCracken's writing comes from. She writes of ordinary people (yes, even in James the Giant's case), with everyday fears and hungers and manages to find the poetry of the mundane. True, readers who want epic romances or magical realism may not find that encouraging. But while The Giant's House might not be for everyone, I'd still highly recommend it. It is a carefully-paced and well-conceived look into an unconventional romance that isn't really as strange as it seems.

Procrastination.

That indolent but agreeable condition of doing nothing - Pliny the Younger


Certain invetabilities carry with them an air of fatalism, especially on days like this. Anyway, I haven't been entirely unproductive with my reading list. On the nightstand: The Conjurer's Bird by Martin Davies, The Crimson Labyrinth by Yusuke Kishi, Mr. Thundermug by Cornelius Medvei, among others.