2008 Nebula Awards Showcase (Edited by Ben Bova)

Been on a Nebula kick for the past few months so when I saw this anthology at a local bookstore, I grabbed it immediately. I'm very grateful that a number of the recent Nebula nominees for short story are accessible online and getting to read an anthology like this really helps me to broaden my range. Two of the 2008 Nebula winners are also favorites of mine, Peter S. Beagle and Elizabeth Hand, so purchasing this was a doubly easy choice.

The anthology opens with Ms Hand's "Echo," a post-9/11 tale addressed to an unknown 'you,' (at least in the story; Ms Hand makes it clear in her brief introduction that this short story was inspired by her own epistolary relationship with a journalist). I've always wished that I wrote as well as Ms Hand does. She has a very fluid rhythm that is tempered with the right amount of emotion. "Echo" is followed by James Patrick Kelly's novella "Burn," which takes place on the planet Walden, where a colony of humans live a very tech-lite existence and have to deal with the aliens still living with them. Okay, I really did a bad job of summarizing that. What I liked about "Burn" is that the characters are very flawed and well-realized and reminds me a bit of how Ray Bradbury approaches the sci-fi elements in his short stories. My favorite of course is Mr Beagle's "Two Hearts," a novelette which continues (or ends?) his famous The Last Unicorn. I've read this before and re-reading it still manages to stir the same emotions I had during the first time. Mr Beagle convincingly uses the young girl Sooz' voice in narrating this story. I think you have to know the characters of The Last Unicorn well to fully appreciate this, though.

Also included in this collection are three science fiction poems (a first for me to read), nominee Eugene Mirabelli's "The Woman in Schrodinger's Wave Equation" (which I also enjoyed), Grand Master James Gunn's "The Listeners" (a sad yet lovely story for any SETI supporter -- yes, I have SETI@home), and an excerpt from Jack McDevitt's Seeker, the Nebula winner for best novel. This is really making me look forward to seeing and reading more Nebula anthologies available locally. I know there are more riches and depths waiting out there.

A Monster Calls (Patrick Ness)

This is not a review.

I first heard of Patrick Ness thanks to an old Amazon recommendation in 2009. Later, he was mentioned in an io9 article, which somehow legitimized my desire to find his books. In 2009, I found both The Knife of Never Letting Go and The Ask and the Answer in Bibliarch Glorietta, and the rest was history. I remember not even managing to climb the stairs of my lonely apartment because I was too engrossed in his books. I read them straight. I don't even remember fixing myself dinner. After the release of Monsters of Men last year, I had been eagerly awaiting his next title.

Then came A Monster Calls. Like I said earlier, this is not a review.

A Monster Calls was really the brainchild of author Siobhan Dowd. I am sorry to admit that I've never read anything she has written before this. But Ms Dowd passed on before she could finish it, and Mr Ness was left with the task. In the story, Conor comes face-to-face with a walking nightmare. And whether Conor likes it or not, the monster is there to tell him three tales -- and expects one in return. And what Conor has chosen to tell literally shook me. I cried. I had been in his shoes before. I knew that life. This is what I mean when I say this is not a review. I am not the right person to ask.

The spark which belonged to Ms Dowd was shaped by Mr Ness' way of writing powerful coming-of-age stories and Jim Kay's brilliantly dark illustrations. A Monster Calls knew, with its honest and simple prose, how to reveal a carefully layered story, one that is brimming with emotion that is neither put-on or pretentious. You have to be there, at 12.07, to know what I mean.

If you've faced sickness and death and loss and regret in your life, read it. This is not a review. This is an exhortation.

--
A very special thank you to Tina of One More Page for my lovely copy.

The Eye of Jade (Diane Wei Liang)

Joining the Whodunit Reading Challenge hosted by Gathering Books has really encouraged me to read more mysteries, even if my challenge is technically over. I tried to widen my reading range when it comes to the genre, and one of the authors I discovered is Diane Wei Liang, whose The Eye of Jade was quite satisfying -- but not exactly for its mystery.

Mei Wang is an independent woman who has resigned from her job at the Ministry of Public Security to be a private detective (or information consultant, since detectives are banned in China). Aside from dealing with the challenges of debt collection, she also struggles with her younger sister Lu, a TV personality who is prettier, richer, and clearly their mother's favorite. When her Uncle Chen, an old friend of her mother's, asks her to find a very important artifact, Mei doesn't hesitate. The search takes her to antique stores and train stations, to hutongs and gambling dens, and even into her family's past.

Ms Liang's book is a sharp look into modern-day China. It paints a grittier Beijing, one that exists beside the grand structures of the Forbidden City or the tourist-perfect scenery of the Summer Palace. But in Ms Liang's case, 'gritty' takes on an almost beautiful quality: detailed in some places (Tofu Flower Soup was now all over the floor, white jelly-like chunks wobbling on top of thick brown broth (p76); poetic in others ('...one moment a caked face with smudged lips, and another, with the street lamps abandoned behind them like used-up chopsticks, just a pair of glowing eyes (p153).'

She takes her time with the first chapters to establish Mei's character and the kind of life she has by giving the reader a clear image of Mei's agency, her family, and even her friends. The mystery is only really introduced in the sixth chapter but because the chapters are relatively short, I didn't feel that the introduction was dragging. But as I kept on reading, I began to realize that the pace is deliberate; the artifact is a McGuffin and the real mystery involves Mei's own family. Readers who are looking for a throwback to the hard-boiled detective mysteries of old might find The Eye of Jade more of a family drama, but I think that Ms Liang and Mei Wang add a delicate and exotic touch to create a series that successfully marries the old with the new.

Where to Buy: The Tintin Shop

Tucked among Pagoda Street's stalls of kitschy souvenirs and Asian memorabilia is this gem of the store that will make any fan exclaim, "Blistering Barnacles!" Yup, it's an official Tintin Store in Singapore.

I've loved Tintin ever since I started reading those big comic books at our grade school library. Lucky for me, two of my younger cousins also got into the series as they were growing up, and I had unlimited access to their library. So imagine my delight when I heard that an official store had opened in Singapore's Chinatown. It sounded like a strange location for a young Belgian reporter and his crew, but I was eager to go anyway.

Anyone coming from the MRT Exit A will find The Tintin Shop on her left. There's an al fresco cafe out front, with the orange and white chairs and tables that you can't miss. Inside, though, is where the magic waits.

A Tintin figure perched on the cashier
Tintin explosion: toys, keychains, magnets, mugs, postcards, journals...

and of course, books!
Some of the rarer Tintin titles were out of stock, but you won't hear me complaining, especially not after seeing all the other goodies in the store. I brought home a Snowy plushie as well as some other presents for my cousins (yup, the ones with the Tintin library).


What made the experience even more enjoyable was that the staff was very friendly and accommodating and they shared with me that the SG branch is only the seventh worldwide. Lucky for all of us fans in southeast Asia! I know that I'll definitely be back for more.

--
The Tintin Shop is located at 56 Pagoda Street, Chinatown, Singapore. Take the Chinatown MRT and exit at Exit A.

The Nightcap.

Always, we keep coming back for more. It's only been months since I last saw three of my closest friends but it really feels longer. So off we went to visit old friends, celebrate a birthday, shop our wallets dry, drink our hearts out. Only our idea of a nightcap is a warm pot of berry-flavored tea.

One more for the road.

UFO in Her Eyes (Xiaolu Guo)

A short visit to Singapore really put my reviews on hold, but after coming home with 17 books, I'm quite confident that I'll be back writing at a more regularly pace. I picked a few of my finds to keep me confident during the plane ride home, and one of them is Xiaolu Guo's UFO in Her Eyes. In the near future, a peasant woman from the tiny Chinese village of Silver Hill reports hearing a big noise and a spinning plate in the sky. She blacks out soon after and upon waking up, she discovers a bleeding foreigner whom she patches up in her cottage.

The story unfolds through reports and interviews made by the National Security and Intelligence Agency, as they go through key individuals and witnesses in Silver Hill. In the course of three years after the incident, the village goes through significant changes that affects the lives of all its inhabitants.

UFO in Her Eyes employed an easy and lighthearted approach to tackle the issues brought about by economic and technological change, especially to a rural agricultural village like Silver Hill. It is almost heartbreaking to see the changes all over the countryside (that include the demolition of the Hundred Arm trees that were once the pride of the village and the loss of trade of its simple and elderly folk), but because of the format that Ms Guo used, the book doesn't come across as pedantic or moralizing. It still effectively holds its prose as a mirror showing the consequences that a lack of insight can bring, not just to a rapidly developing nation like China but to others as well. The characters in UFO in Her Eyes seem real, despite encountering them only through reports. They come alive through their own words and through what others say (or don't say) about them. Kwok Yun, the peasant woman who encounters the mysterious craft, goes through a particularly moving journey through these reports, as Ms Guo employs an exposition that is both subtle and probing. One of my favorite characters is her grandfather, Kwok Zidong, whose sharp language and revelations move me in unexpected ways. For a book that I picked up merely on the strength of its appeal to me (UFO and China? Sold!), this was definitely one of my luckier purchases.

The Noodle Maker (Ma Jian)

What Ma Jian has created with The Noodle Maker is a collection of lifestyles and ideals that grew under China's Cultural Revolution, were affected by the years that followed the adoption of the Open Door Policy while still under the Party's all-seeing gaze, and survived the aftermath of the Tiananmen Square incident. Here, a professional writer and his friend the professional blood donor meet regularly to chat and dine. The professional writer has been charged with creating propaganda about a hero who embodies the Party's ideals when all he wants to do is to write about the people who intrigue him. So it is to the professional blood donor that he confesses and this serves as the framework for this collection of tales.

There was a kind of horror and disbelief that I experienced when I first read Ma Jian's Stick Out Your Tongue. He was not shocking just to be shocking; there was a sorrow that permeated his writing, one that truly drew me in. That shocking feeling was absent for me here in The Noodle Maker but whether it is deliberately gone or I am merely used to his style is still open to debate. The sorrow is still there though, in the lives of people who wish to be more. Here the tales are similarly stark, and even if the characters branch off in different directions (an actress with an unusual idea for a live performance, the young man who runs a private crematorium with an added service) they find their lives weaving in and out of each other.

The collection is filled with truths that can be disconcerting and uncomfortable, moments of sharp insight. One of my favorites is a conversation between the professional writer and the female novelist about young writers. The female novelist is bemoaning the new generation's shallowness, to which the professional writer counters, 'Perhaps a purer form of literature will emerge from their numb minds. They have no prejudices, no interest in politics. Their problems are purely personal(p86-87).' In their exchange, I feel bitterness and resentment, even at the professional writers' words, despite his obvious defense. He is merely stating fact: '[the female novelist's] time is already over(p87).' Here is a generation introduced to the Self after years of dealing with just the State.

There are really so many layers that one can uncover while reading The Noodle Maker. Ma Jian's writing makes even the most jarring images a source of reflection not just of the self, but also of the world that controls us.

The Native Star (MK Hobson)

The Native Star is the third 2010 Nebula-nominated novel that I've read, and with its combination of fantasy and historical romance, it's by far the most satisfying to my reading tastes. I'm not too sure how it will fare in the voting, but I'll definitely be rooting for it. It wasn't hard for me to love this story. Set in an alternate version of America in 1876, MK Hobson has created a world where Witches and Warlocks run academies, serve in the military, and for the most part, can respectably walk through cities and towns. Emily Edwards is a backwaters Witch in a very small lumber town out West, fashioning a love spell that she doesn't know is about to get her into a lot of trouble. Dreadnought Stanton is a know-it-all Institute-trained Warlock from New York assigned to educate Witches and Warlocks in the Sierra Nevadas (which in this case meant Emily and her adoptive Pap, and Emily's not too pleased about it). When one action-packed night finds a strange and powerful mineral embedded in Emily's hand, the unlikely couple must join forces to unlock its mysteries and keep it away from those who would wield its power for evil.

The tone of the story is geared towards romantic fantasy, so I have a feeling it will take an awfully-secure male fantasy fan to read through this and appreciate the sprawling epic adventure that it draws. And epic is the right term: the novel takes Emily and Stanton from California to Chicago to New York to Charleston in grand Americana fashion. They ride horses, trains, and flying machines. They visit gambling dens and whitewashed towns. They even hold seances to talk to an Indian wise woman in an acorn. With all the running around these two do, it seems like such a shame that male readers might be put off by the romance element. And there's plenty to cheer for when it comes to romance; fans will certainly enjoy the banter between Emily and Stanton, who have interesting back stories to lug around. Emily, who gets flashes of her early life with a mysterious mother she barely knew, is charming and enterprising enough as most protagonists go. But she is not entirely faultless; in fact, she has marked prejudices that keep her from being a true Mary-Sue character. Also intriguing for me are the antagonists. I think Ms Hobson has a knack for creating truly menacing and memorable villains in Captain Caul and Grimaldi. They gave me the same kind of chills that I had while reading about the Chaos Walking trilogy's Mayor Prentiss.

There were times when my interest wasn't as sustained as it had been in the beginning, but it's probably because of my ambivalence to the circumstances that have engaged the protagonists rather than a noticeable dip in action. But all things considered, The Native Star was an extremely satisfying and engaging read that struck just the right balance between two of my favorite genres. I couldn't put this one down.

Nocturnes (Kazuo Ishiguro)

There has always been a sharpness in Kazuo Ishiguro's work that makes me feel inadequate and ill-equipped to write a review. His Never Let Me Go is one of my favorite books of all time but I couldn't even begin to find the words to do it proper homage. I'm attempting anew with Nocturnes: Five Stories of Music and Nightfall.

In his sparse yet carefully-nuanced narrative style, Mr Ishiguro sketches five stories that revolve around the process of creation and definition through music. Maybe 'sketches' isn't the right word, as it connotes something rough and unfinished, but it does fit: we stumble across each of the narrators at a certain point in their lives, as they tell stories that to me have a lovely way of trailing off. He opens at a piazza in Italy and ends there as well, coming full circle but never telling the same story twice. The first, "Crooner," is about a guitarist hired by a once-famous standards singer to woo his wife. The wife reappears in another story, "Nocturne," while what could be the same piazza is seen again in the final "Cellists." Familiar elements echo through the stories, like the theme in a musical composition.

What I really admired about Nocturnes is how Mr Ishiguro weaves introspective pieces that made me reflect on what defines an artist. In the more humorous "Come Rain or Come Shine," the narrator confesses in a moment of candor, 'It's hard to know where to settle. What to settle to (p85).' In "Nocturne," the realization is a bit more in-your-face: the narrator is undergoing surgery to correct his imperfections and launch his career into the 'right' direction. I had meant to give Nocturnes as a present to a good friend but after reading it I wasn't sure if my friend would want something more aggressive when it comes to how events unfold. I'm still hesitating. But for me, each of these five stories know how to sit with you one quiet afternoon, pat your hand before they leave, and that's the only time you realize something had been happening to you all along.

The Summer.

All I'm missing is a hammock and my own private beach. In a few days, I'll be leaving our little home and heading to Manila and Singapore. Not too keen about spending the rest of the summer in the city's sweltering heat but the prospect of shopping and seeing old friends is enough to excite me. Orchard. Clarke Quay. Holland Village. Bugis. Chinatown. Sentosa. Marina Bay. Here I come.

Invisibility.

So I tried to be invisible. It's surprisingly possible. -Angela Chase, My So-Called Life

Been out sick for the past few days and couldn't even enjoy the luxury of reading. Then house guests descended, and not being a particular fan of them, I've taken to lurking in corners and empty rooms. I hope I'll be back to regular programming soon.

The Little Stranger (Sarah Waters)

I like scaring myself through film and literature. So when my friend lent me a stack of books which included Sarah Waters' Gothic The Little Stranger but reminded me to save it for last, I didn't listen at all. Its eerie mood beckoned to me more than the other books and I went with it willingly.

The Little Stranger is told through the eyes of Dr. Faraday, a country doctor who finds himself called to Hundreds Hall to treat a young servant. Dr. Faraday has been to Hundreds Hall before as a young boy treated to a rare meal at the sprawling estate while his mother helped serve food, and the state of ruin that the ancestral home is in astounds him. There he meets the once-wealthy Ayres -- the aging mother who still clings to the ways of her class and her children, level-headed spinster Caroline and young war-ravaged Roderick. Dr. Faraday is drawn back to Hundreds Hall and the Ayres and soon he realizes that the estate's secrets and mysteries have only begun to stir.

Ms Waters sets the tone for The Little Stranger in such a confident and polished manner that post-World War II Britain becomes the perfect backdrop for the struggles of a slowly declining genteel family. There seems an overall greyness just haunting each scene that seeps through the pages. The Ayres are not an easy family to relate to, but there is something in their fragile state and their complex relationships towards each other that moved me. But let's not forget that this book is a thriller. Ms Waters uses seemingly mundane things (like scratches and stains on the wall) and creates chilling circumstances that can send shivers down the spine of any imaginative reader.

I can go on and on about the strengths of this book but I will have to stop myself in case I reveal too much. At its heart, The Little Stranger is a mystery in the vein of Henry James' The Turn of the Screw and Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White, and it knows how to withhold its secrets until the final pages.

Classics for Pleasure (Michael Dirda)

I was very pleased when I found that my cousin left behind his copy of Michael Dirda's Classics for Pleasure. Mr Dirda is a Pulitzer Prize-winning critic for the Washington Post, and for a while now, I've had my eye on his collection of essays on book recommendations.

I'll be brief: If you're looking for a list that contains Shakespeare or Tolstoy or Dickens, then you should look elsewhere. Instead, Mr Dirda makes such an engaging and eloquent case for slightly-less-canon-but-nonetheless-essential-literary-reads that I am sorely tempted to go out and search for the works that I have not encountered yet (and there are a lot). Personally, I've been inspired to look for the epic Shanameh the Icelandic family sagas mentioned here. Mr Dirda's recommendations are arranged according to genre, from humor to epics to adventure, which makes reading the book quite smooth and seamless. For example: his category "The Way We Live Now" mentions a range that includes Petronius, Anton Chekov, José Maria Eça de Queiros and Zora Neale Hurston while his "Encyclopedic Visions" tackle Ovid, Ezra Pound, and Philip K Dick, among others. One moment you can be reading up on Georgette Heyer's Regency romances and then spend the next exploring HP Lovecraft's legacy to weird fiction. Mr Dirda's concise manner affords the reader a brief summary of what to expect from the featured authors, as well as occasional excerpts and the merits and the contributions of the work to the genre as a whole.

If there is anything that you will certainly take away from this, then it is the exciting compulsion to read every author and work that Mr Dirda recommends. Here is a massive TBR list for any reader. In the end, the pleasure is all ours.

The Sevenwaters Series (Juliet Marillier)

After reading Juliet Marillier's Heir to Sevenwaters last January, I didn't know how obsessed I would be over the rest of the series. Thanks to a friend who shared with me the other four books, I spent the last few days just reading in my room. The series is such a lovely marriage of fantasy and romance that it really refused to let me go. Given that, I thought it would be better to share my thoughts on them in just one post instead of separately.

One great thing about reading Ms Marillier's Sevenwaters books is how each one features a different heroine so if you come across one, you shouldn't hesitate about starting with it. Though I started with Clodagh in Heir, I wasn't spoiled too much when I read Daughter of the Forest, the first of the series. It is a retelling of The Six Swans, set in what would seem to be ancient Ireland. It takes a familiar tale and infuses it with courage, heartbreak, and a host of memorable characters, and fans of romantic fantasy will be swept away by the epic movement of this tale. Sorcha's love for her brothers (and theirs for her) was the fulcrum of this story and as much as I enjoyed the unfolding romance that began towards the middle of the novel, I found myself constantly wondering about her brothers. I've read retellings of this story before, but I don't think I ever really contemplated how changed a man can be after going through that experience. Ms Marillier's treatment of this process really gave me pause, and even reduced me to tears a few times.

Another series favorite is Son of the Shadows, and mostly because I think its protagonist Liadan is arguably the strongest of Ms Marillier's heroines. Liadan led me down unexpected roads -- I wasn't really sure where the story was going at times but don't take that the wrong way. Liadan, a second daughter, finds her place in the world through her steadfastness, her generosity, and her political acumen, and follows a path 'outside of the pattern'. Friend and fellow book blogger Chachic once told me she enjoyed the first two books and I definitely agree. I love how Ms Marillier ensures that her characters are strong, capable women even if they don't vanquish evildoers with flaming swords. Even Fainne from Child of the Prophecy had her strengths, although I must admit that out of all the five books, this was the one I enjoyed least.

The last two books revolve around two of Liadan's nieces, Clodagh in Heir to Sevenwaters and Sibeal in Seer of Sevenwaters. Even from a young age, Sibeal has known that she is being called to be a druid. But during the summer before she has to make her vows, her mentor sends her to the warrior community of Inis Eala where she meets the shipwrecked Felix and a dangerous mission threatens to take her away from her quiet life. I am glad that I ended with Seer instead of Child because I enjoyed Sibeal and her adventures far better than I did Fainne's journey. In its own way, each Sevenwaters story has spurred me to look for more. Unfortunately, I seem to have come to the end. Still, I harbor the faintest of hopes that Ms Marillier will continue to write about Sevenwaters. As a new convert, I feel that there is so much more to explore.

The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag (Alan Bradley)

Flavia de Luce is now one of my favorite detectives: witty, unflappable, a force of nature. We met last year through Alan Bradley's The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie and since then I've been eager to be part of her new adventures. Good thing it wasn't such a long wait until The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag. In this mystery, Flavia (always at the right place at the right time) meets famous puppeteer Rupert Porson, of the BBC's children show The Magic Kingdom, and his lover and assistant Nialla. Stranded temporarily at Bishop's Lacey, Porson and Nialla are entreated by the vicar to put on a show at the parish hall with Flavia as their helper. But tragedy befalls and it takes all of Flavia's abilities -- from her genius at chemistry to her amazing skills at snooping and deduction -- to get to the bottom of this murder.

One of my favorite things about reading Mr Bradley's books is how each one manages to take me to the fifties through the eyes of a small community like Bishop's Lacey by using accessible language. Flavia lives with her rather unique family in an old, sprawling mansion called Buckshaw, and while that would seem like a rather sheltered upbringing, it is Flavia's tendency to poke her nose in other people's business that allows other people's fears, troubles, and insecurities to come to the surface. Mr Bradley does a fine job of capturing this slice of life element and situate it clearly in post-war England. A highlight in The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag is the beginnings of television and how even in its early years it captures an era on the precipice of change.

But no matter how skilled a mystery writer is in capturing the times, he will ineluctably be judged by his ability to write a convincing whodunit. In that aspect, Mr Bradley and Flavia pass with flying colors. The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag employs a lot of skillful misdirection but is able to conclude things in a clean and concise manner. The presence of Rupert Porson at Bishop's Lacey may seem random, but as in many well-written mysteries, there is more here than meets the eye. Flavia once again calls on her chemical expertise to solve this new murder but in the end it is her powers of deduction and observation that save the day. There are lovely character sketches here and there that continue to draw me into Flavia's world (not just the thrilling adventure she has each time a mystery comes in) and again, I'll be anticipating her next escapade.

NOTE: This review is done in response to the Whodunit Reading Challenge hosted by Mary, Myra, and Fats at Gathering Books. This is actually the review that qualifies me to be a Level 3 Mythic Crime Buster with a total of six mysteries read. Challenge technically over, but I think I'll keep on until I've done eight books.

Sleight of Hand (Peter S. Beagle)

'It's in the telling, always. It's in the old, old telling,' so declares the author in "Oakland Dragon Blues," one of the stories in Peter S. Beagle's newest collection, Sleight of Hand. Mr Beagle is a master storyteller as evidenced by this gathering of thirteen tales of the fantastic, showcasing a wide range of settings and characters (from centaurs lost in New York to a cop helping a bitterly lost dragon to a very familiar magician before he meets a very familiar unicorn). The range alone already shows Mr Beagle's mastery of his genre, but the way he lets each tale unfold convinces me that he loses none of his genius no matter what he decides to tackle.

My favorites from this collection are "Dirae," Latin for the Furies, a visceral and heartbreaking look at modern monsters; "The Rabbi's Hobby," where a teenage boy and his rabbi work on an obscure mystery on top of studying Jewish law; and the titular "Sleight of Hand," where a bereaved wife and mother enters a bargain to keep Death at bay. Mr Beagle has always been one of those rare writers who can write contemporary fantasy as well as he tackles secondary worlds but this time he brought me to unexpected places. Take "Dirae." According to Mr Beagle, "In structure, language, and specific content, this may be the strangest story I've ever written(p209)." It is certainly darker than his usual tales, and the way he utilizes the tone and voice serves to mold a very unforgettable character born out of that darkness. One of the other stories I enjoyed was "Sleight of Hand." It is emotion-laden but never overwrought or sappy, in spite of how easy it is to let the story ooze with grief. There is real magic in these tales, in this telling, not mere trickery.

Looking back, I realize that I was drawn to the more contemporary tales in this collection, but that doesn't mean that the ones containing more traditional elements of high fantasy are any less effective. Fans of The Last Unicorn will be delighted to see a Schmendrick tale close the book, ending it on a poignantly familiar note. But there are no unicorns here, and the truth is, I don't mind at all. I have grown up loving Mr Beagle's work and with Sleight of Hand, I realize that I may have matured also in how I've come to appreciate his talent.

My Name is Memory (Anne Brashares)

I'm not quite sure what I expected from Anne Brashares' My Name is Memory. The story's premise is somewhat akin to The Time-Traveller's Wife which moved me, and knowing that this was geared towards more adult readers, I approached it with a determination to like it. Unfortunately, I was a bit disappointed.

Daniel and Sophia are old souls that keep on coming back after every death. Daniel's memory is special: he remembers every lifetime he has ever lived and recognizes those he has come across. It is both a blessing and a curse. In his very first life in Africa, he had watched a woman die as he burned her house down. Unable to forget her, he continues to be drawn to her soul in every lifetime thereafter. Unfortunately for Daniel, Sophia's memory is wiped clean every time. Now, in modern-day America, she is known as Lucy, and in this rare moment that they are within each other's reach, Daniel is determined to make her remember.

I appreciated how the story is very introspective and Daniel, the main character, tends to wax philosophical, giving it a different approach to the many paranormal romances on the shelves these days. But this also means that it took quite long to unfold, and this was one of my first sources of confusion: I wasn't sure if the lovers were going to meet any time to soon to face their conflicts together or if it was going the Sleepless in Seattle route. That isn't to say that Daniel and Sophia didn't meet at all in between their first lives and now; in fact, they meet countless times. They would be strangers, sometimes related by marriage. Sometimes, one of them would be a child. There are moments in their strange lives that paint touching images but I strongly believe that it is only when Daniel meets Constance during the First World War that their love is truly justified. Everything else is mere commentary. The only other time I felt such strong emotion in this text was when Daniel visits one of his graves and finally recognizes how much he had loved his mother then.

One of the conflicts that the lovers face is Daniel's brother Joaquim, another old soul who is driven by vengeance. There was so much foreshadowing about Joaquim's abilities and his mysterious friend that I expected some revelation, some measure of triumph over him, but I was left with no closure. I didn't think the climax was as strong as it could have been and the denouement was even weaker. I would be very happy to know that there will be a sequel because then readers who have already invested their time into this text shouldn't feel as abandoned as I was towards the end. I feel that the choices Daniel makes at the end are contrary to what the book has been exhorting all along: to let go of the past, to realize that there is no shame in regret, and to learn to live for the present. I think that there is a still a healthy part of the teen audience that will gravitate towards a romance like this, but I hope that Ms Brashares will deliver a love story with more robust characters and a more thought-out plot in the future.

Interlude: Come Again Another Day

It is raining where I am. It's been raining for the better part of two weeks. To write this is a feeble attempt to cling to sun-melted mornings and an afternoon falling in love with a hammock. Get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down, the Indigo Girls sing, and while I love the rain, today it makes me wish that I can take their advice.

I'm imagining myself understanding the poetry of yellow casitas. The undone tumble of pink flowers. Doors that slide the world shut. Wood that knows how to dance and sleep. Grass that remembers the explorations of transients. Lemon tea. Giant jackstones. Card games and candles on a summer night.




I try not to be too envious of the me two weeks ago. I have my books and a cup of warm milk tea within reach. My bed is warm. I'll be fine.

Thank you, Casa San Pablo, for the advice.

The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms (NK Jemisin)

It's no secret that I am big fan of fantasy. When I was much younger, I would really be engaged in the popular fantasy series of that time (Dragonlance, McCaffrey, Brooks, Eddings, Jordan). Despite all those different worlds that I have frequented, I would always end up picturing my heroes to be Anglo. Over time I would encounter fantasies with a markedly Arabic or Asian tone, thus rearranging my perspective for the course of the reading, but for the most part, my fantasy worlds would remain predominantly white. It took an encounter with NK Jemisin's The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms to remind me that they don't always have to be.

At first glance, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms appears to be a manifestation of Joseph Campbell's monomyth. Yeine is half-Darr (a matriarchal warrior tribe in the north) and half-Arameri (the powerful ruling family from the central kingdom called Sky). She is content to be the young ruler of their tribe but destiny has other plans when she is also named heir to the king of Sky, her Arameri grandfather. Yeine travels to Sky and gets caught in a political web and a battle between the gods. Because in Sky, the Arameris not only rule over the Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, they are also the masters of the once powerful gods who have now been enslaved as punishment for defying the Itempas the Skyfather.

But there is much to be admired in this book beyond the surface. The narration, written from Yeine's unique perspective, is sharp and frank and quite powerful. You could almost say that it is fragmented, the way Yeine moves to a different train of thought while describing something else, but it's written in a way that flows and -- as you will discover should you read it -- is justified. There were times when I thought that the language dipped, especially where the dialogue is concerned, but I think my admiration for that fragmented narration overcomes my dismay over its uneven qualities.

I thought Ms Jemisin did an excellent job of layering her story. Her construction of her imagined world's mythology is also masterful, awarding it a quality that's believable given the creation myths and legends found across the different cultures in our own world. The climax and denouement here still pays homage to those myths of long ago, but delivered in a way that I think makes it worthy of its Nebula nomination.

While racial and political struggles are not new themes to fantasy, somehow I was more aware of them here compared to other books. They constantly reminded me of Yeine's tenuous position in her new world. When I say politics though, I must point out that you shouldn't expect power games and schemes as strong as those in George RR Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire but the agendas here would suffice. The characters, though, are mostly cookie-cutter. The good ones are good, the bad ones remain bad until the end, and I think I just wrote these very same phrases three reviews ago. Anyway. To be honest, I initially didn't think that Yeine had the right qualities to take on the Arameri ruling structure, and even now, still don't. She only had about seven days to act and things only came to a head because she allowed things to happen and not because she really did anything to trigger events. While Yeine may have somewhat disappointed me, I thought that one of the characters in this novel, the god Sieh, really came to life for me and was a constant joy to read.

My friend O and I usually have the same taste in books but this was one of the rare occasions that we disagreed. She had lukewarm feelings for it (lukewarm enough to make her give me her copy of the book) but I still found it genuinely fascinating (fascinated enough to be thankful that she did). I guess it is the kind of novel that you either love or hate. Obviously, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms stayed with me long after I turned the last page, and I anticipate the next book from Ms Jemisin.

The Firewalkers (Erwin E. Castillo)

Situated after the Philippine-American War, Erwin Castillo's The Firewalkers reads part-saga, part-Philippine history lesson. It hovers on the edges of magical realism and fantasy but underneath the lyricism is a severely political thread. This particular edition is actually composed of two stories: the titular work and a shorter tale called The Watch of La Diane. What intrigues me about both is how they were rooted in two different milieux but were able to evoke the same probing questions on Filipino identity.

There was a sharp awareness of setting (a small town called Lakambaga in Cavite) in The Firewalkers, where police sergeant Gabriel Diego -- always referred to in the story by his full name -- finds himself in the middle of American troops and Philippine revolutionaries. There are numerous colorful characters that dance in and out of the story -- a cowboy named Apache Kid and his tiger; a traveling actor and his held ransom by guerillas, even a man who can make smoke from his fingers -- yet in this typically festive Pinoy fanfare, it is not hard to keep track of Gabriel Diego. He remains on the outside of both parties: treated like a lackey by his colonial superiors while the revolutionaries, led by his own relatives, seem to want little to do with him. Yet as police sergeant, he is essential to them, especially when a dark and mystical Beast is on the loose.

I really loved the rich and descriptive language used in The Firewalkers. Its ending was one of the most powerful that I've read in recent times, so fierce and poetic, a mantra I wanted to keep for myself. Mr Castillo's craft is even more evident in his second story. I think it is The Watch of La Diane's relatively contemporary setting that makes the poetry stand out in relief, juxtaposing image against image, scene against scene, one aspect of the Filipino migrant against another. The first person POV here is chaotic: 'The boy Rizal will have seen a couple of Sasquatch playing on the slope of the Makiling one rainy morning (p104).' Beautiful: 'And sadness, undecipherable, meaningless, breaks the winter down (p97).' (Also, for a completely shallow reason: I rejoiced when it mentioned my hometown briefly.) Still, that shouldn't take away from how strong and effective the language really is in the earlier story.

I don't think any review that I write can do The Firewalkers justice so forgive me if this one feels rather inadequate. My only hope is that you'll get yourself a copy; I found mine at Powerbooks for only P130.00. It's a small price to pay for a piece of quietly transforming Philippine literature.

The Escape.

Let's ride a trade wind like paper airplanes.
Let's watch the sky wheel & wheel 
from under straw hats.
- from Mike Dockins' Poem of Low Latitudes

It was the last hurrah of a three-week vacation in Manila, even though the Manila trip wasn't really a vacation or that this last hurrah wasn't even in Manila. I probably confuse you. But there was nothing confusing about that weekend in San Pablo where the sun stayed inside our cozy room, lingered in the loft; where the hammocks swung into the sunset; where I felt it was actually possible to escape in a world that looked and smelled and tasted like home.


I went everywhere with NK Jemisin's The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms that weekend. I could have easily been just as happy with Michael Ende's Never Ending Story or Madeleine L'Engle's And Both Were Young. If only I held on to it a little bit longer or smiled a little more often or remembered how much of a good thing I really had.

Dark Road to Darjeeling (Deanna Raybourn)

One of my favorite fictional Victorian pairs is that of the mystery-solving duo of Lady Julia Grey and Nicholas Brisbane. I have loyally followed them from Silent in the Grave to their most recent adventure in a lush yet remote region in India via Dark Road to Darjeeling. While I thoroughly enjoyed the first two books of Ms Raybourn's Julia Grey novels, I was a bit disappointed with the third one and a taste of another (non-series) book wasn't too my liking. I suppose these had led me to approach Dark Road to Darjeeling with some trepidation.

Ms Raybourn soon put all my fears to rest. I think that she was back in top form while writing this mystery. Julia and Nicholas, accompanied by her siblings Portia and Plum, travel to Sikkim to help Portia's former lover Jane find the truth behind her husband Freddie Cavendish's untimely death. The isolated region in the eastern Himalayas where Jane now lives (called the Valley of Eden) straddles Sikkim and Nepal, and Julia soon finds out that it takes a certain sort of madness to live in such a place, especially when she digs deeper into the secrets of the individuals and families there. I felt that this particularly rich setting added to the mood, because the assembly of likely culprits wouldn't have seemed so mysterious had the story been situated in an English countryside.

This rather unique setting also encourages Julia to be a little bolder in her investigations. I've always liked how Julia Grey is (outwardly) a proper Victorian woman but because of her rather unorthodox upbringing is also quite adventurous and forward-thinking. In Dark Road to Darjeeling, Julia and Nicholas are entering a new phase of their relationship and their dynamic is somewhat different. But circumstances finally push Julia to reassess her role in the relationship, and I applaud how it was approached here.

Another thing that I've always enjoyed about Ms Raybourn's work is how she adeptly weaves some family drama or personal conflict into every mystery. What's worth nothing here is that as Ms Raybourn gives us a glimpse into the sickness and depravity of the human mind, she also manages to tug at our heartstrings by adding elements to help us understand the different family relationships of those involved. There are recurring characters here that may throw off new readers, but their background is adequately explained. The impact of their involvement in this story may be somewhat diminished for new readers but I hope that this does not dampen anyone's reading experience.

NOTE: This review is done in response to the Whodunit Reading Challenge hosted by Mary, Myra, and Fats at Gathering Books.

--
Reading this has made me quite interested in Sikkim (it's been a dream of mine for quite some time now to visit the country of Bhutan, and finding out how close it is to this Indian state has further intrigued me). It became a state of India in 1975 and to this day is recognized as one of the country's least populous states. Despite this, it is still home to a variety of races, cultures, and languages. To know more about Sikkim, visit their state's Information and PR Department.

Desperate Duchesses series (Eloisa James)

Stuck in Manila for a week more and with most of my friends at work, I turned to Eloisa James' Desperate Duchesses series loaned to me by my best friend. I finished this six-book series in three days (the first three on the first day) so I guess you could call me a 'desperate reader' at that time!

Set in the Georgian period, the series revolves around a group of young duchesses and their many romantic/marital woes. On the surface, there is not much here to distinguish it from the rest of the bodice-rippers in the market. The women are often adventurous beauties, the men are often cold rakehells, the consummation is always the stuff of legend. Although Ms James' books are stand-alones, they are still better enjoyed when read in the proper order. But tying them together, in a device I've rarely seen employed in a historical romance series, is a long drawn out chess match between the Duchess and Duke of Beaumont and the Duke of Villiers. Some of the characters' stories (especially that of the Beaumonts) are shared with us in bits and pieces before an entire book is dedicated to them (This Duchess of Mine).

It might be a stretch to imagine four, young, and extremely beautiful duchesses who happen to be friends and are unhappy with their current romantic lot (Ms James takes her cue from Desperate Housewives), but there is still much to enjoy in this series. It's a great guilty pleasure read, with its crop of intriguing characters, the genuine friendship between the duchesses, and the marital chess match. What I also admire about Ms James' heroines is that they actually do have other interests aside from fashion, gossip, and men: Jemma, Duchess of Beaumont, loves chess; Poppy, Duchess of Fletcher, is a budding naturalist; Henrietta, Duchess of Berrow, sits as a de facto judge at their local court. I find that these add a rather nice dimension to what would normally be a paper-thin character. These make me see these women as believably intelligent, instead of having to merely read them described as such. I certainly didn't feel that those afternoons curled up in bed and reading these wildly romantic romps were quite a waste.

The Desperate Duchesses series, in order:
Desperate Duchesses
An Affair Before Christmas
Duchess by Night
When the Duke Returns
This Duchess of Mine
A Duke of My Own

Knowledge.

It does no harm to the romance of the sunset to know a little bit about it. -Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot

Came home from my first meeting as an official member of the Astronomical League of the Philippines. I'm humbled each time I realize just how little I know. Still, here I am, star stuff and luminous.

The Replacement (Brenna Yovanoff)

I am generally distrustful of novels that put excerpts at the back of the book instead of actual summaries. It makes me think: a) someone's not doing his job; and b) really? you're going with that?

Not the case with Brenna Yovanoff's The Replacement. It was the excerpt that lured me in, guaranteed that I would think about it until I actually bought a copy and read until the last page. In case you're curious, it reads:

'In the story, Emma's four years old. She gets out of bed and pads across the floor in her footie pajamas. When she reaches her hand between the bars, the thing in the crib moves closer. It tries to bite her and she takes her hand out again but doesn't back away. They spend all night looking at each other in the dark. In the morning, the thing is still crouched on the lamb-and-duckling mattress pad, staring at her. It isn't her brother.
It's me.'
As you've probably gleaned from that, the protagonist Mackie Doyle isn't one of us. He lives in the town of Gentry, a self-sustained little town that somehow still clings to Old World folklore and traditions. Every seven years, a child is taken from the town and a changeling is left in his place. These replacements often doesn't live too long; Mackie is lucky that he's found a family who has loved and nurtured him all these years. Unfortunately, they can't protect him enough: his uncommon appearance and his susceptibility to blood, steel, iron, and holy ground continually mark him as an outsider and living in our world is slowly killing him. When his classmate Tate's younger sister is taken, events come to a head and he begins to confront the world beneath Gentry and his true heritage.

Reading The Replacement felt like reading Kelly Link-lite in a Guillermo del Toro/Tim Burton-esque world. Worth noting is that the mysteries surrounding Mackie and Gentry are presented and dealt with little fanfare. There is no breathless wonder accompanying each revelation. As most of the locals do, the reader is almost expected to accept the circumstances quickly and move on. I say this because a reader expecting otherwise might find The Replacement cold and detached in that sense.

I liked Mackie as a protagonist and was quickly drawn into his world. A lot of Old World beliefs are present in the text: scissors hung over cribs to prevent a child being stolen, the faerie aversion to iron, milk left out for the Good Neighbors. I liked how these elements were casually slipped into the text. Mackie's friends and family (particularly his sister Emma -- their relationship was one of the best things in this book) are an amazing support system, a positive force for a teenager who in all appearances looked and acted (with good reason) pretty emo. But there was something about the characters that made it difficult for me to truly empathize with them. Perhaps I just found his actions to be a little uneven: sometimes Mackie decided things quickly, other times he dithered. I understand that not everyone has to be brash and impulsive all the time, but I found that this reflected the pace of the entire novel. There were times when I thought that there was a lapse in action and plot movement while towards the end, I kind of wished that the climax had taken its time to sweep me along with it. To be fair, I liked the resolution and found it effectively dealt with the issues presented. I guess I had expected it to be a little grander, given the outcome.

YA readers who like their fantasies a little on the dark and macabre side might want to pick up a copy of The Replacement. It's a stand-alone novel with an intriguing premise that courageously wraps its story in a ccontained way. It might not be for everyone but Ms Yovanoff has found a new fan in me (plus she mentions Leonard Cohen, which is always a good thing). Do with it as you will.

The Scent of Rain and Lightning (Nancy Pickard)

Jody Linder's family is the wealthiest and most respected family in Rose, Kansas. So when three-year old Jody's young father is brutally murdered and her beautiful mother goes missing, the whole town reverberates with shock and anger. The Linders, led by the powerful Hugh Senior, make sure that the guilty is punished -- in this case, town drunk and wife-beater Bill Crosby. But twenty-three years later, Jody's world is rocked once again despite her efforts to carve out a new life under the watchful eye of her grandparents and doting uncles. Crosby is now back in Rose, and his son Collin, now a lawyer, is determined to prove his father's innocence. Jody must deal once again with the horrible crime that destroyed her family.

I found this mistakenly placed in the YA section (perhaps because of its cover) and was pleasantly surprised as page after page revealed something that I never expected. As a mystery, it is engaging as its details are drawn sharply and compellingly. As a family drama, it doesn't quite have the intensity of Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones but it is still effective in painting the different relationships in the Linder and Crosby families. There are lovely contrasts emphasized between the lives of Jody and Collin before and after the event, and while their growing relationship isn't as essential to the plot as other elements are, I still found myself hoping that Ms Pickard chose to explore this a bit more.

It took me a while to get used to the pace. It starts in present-day Rose, when Jody's uncles tell her that Crosby has returned. The next half of the book recounts the events that lead up to Hugh-Jay Linder's death before jumping back to the present. Doing so heightened the tension and the mystery, and by the truth was revealed, I had learned to appreciate why Ms Pickard told the story that way. I certainly didn't call this one at all.

The Scent of Rain and Lightning is a glimpse into small-town life and politics, into a family and a town dealing with fear, mistrust, and outrage. There were a lot of elements here that are present and plausible in the Philippines' own rural areas. Despite being different from my usual reading fare, The Scent of Rain and Lightning was a quick read whose grit and spirit did not disappoint me in the end.

NOTE: This review is done in response to the Whodunit Reading Challenge hosted by Mary, Myra, and Fats at Gathering Books.

The Laughter of Dead Kings (Elizabeth Peters)

With all the negative connotations that come with being stereotypically tall, buxom, blue-eyed and blonde, it's a wonder that Elizabeth Peters can still turn her Dr. Vicky Bliss into a charming character. I guess it's the reason why I've been patiently following her Vicky Bliss series for years now. Vicky is smart and self-deprecating (her biggest gripe is that no one takes her seriously, looking like she does), practical yet given to fits of emotion, and generally the kind of person I'd want with me on an adventure. She's an American working for the National Museum in Munich and her specialization in medieval art often finds her poking her nose into some art forgery investigation or a smuggling ring. The series began in the seventies, with Borrower of the Night and the most recent title, The Laughter of Dead Kings, was published more than twenty years after.

Dead Kings rounds up familiar faces: Vicky's lover, the now-reformed art thief John Smythe/Tregarth, and her boss Anton Schmidt. This time, the mummy of King Tut has been stolen and being held for ransom, and John is everyone's prime suspect. When the couple's friend Faisal asks for help in finding the missing mummy, Vicky and John can't resist, especially since they get to clear John's name while doing it. For the first time since reading the series, I became very aware of the time period. Most of the Vicky Bliss books have been set (at least in my mind) during some generic, almost indistinguishable, time frame. This really helped me to view the work as timeless instead of dated. In Vicky's latest adventure though, modern technology has come into play. It's not exactly unwelcome especially since it would have been difficult for the characters to communicate in a contemporary setting without a mobile phone, but it did make me realize that Vicky Bliss is changing with the times.

The mystery in The Laughter of Dead Kings was a bit predictable, but I don't know if it was because I've been so accustomed to Ms Peters' writing that it was easy for me to put two and two together. There was a dearth of suspects for me so there were no surprises for me at the end. But despite that, I still greatly enjoyed reading about Vicky and her friends. They're part of my literary family, characters I've grown so used to and have loved and admired all these years. The Laughter of Dead Kings may not be for readers who are unfamiliar with Vicky Bliss, but longtime fans will find that there is still a lot to be enjoyed in this installment.

Grace Under Pressure (Julie Hyzy)

Part of me wanted to start on Julie Hyzy's White House Chef mystery series, especially since one of the titles, State of the Onion, won the Anthony Award for mysteries in 2009. But somehow the charming description of Grace Under Pressure won out, maybe because I felt I was getting enough of my spy-and-state-secrets stuff with TV shows Chuck and Covert Affairs. So goodbye, White House; hello, Manor of Murder.

Was it everything I expected? Well, yes and no. It wasn't the quaint and charming small-town whodunit I had in mind but one thing I enjoyed about it immensely was its pacing. It might be strange to describe a mystery as leisurely, but that's what I felt from reading this book. Things happen, don't get me wrong, but it is Grace's patient sleuthing that wins the day. As the (former) assistant curator of the Marshfield Manor, Grace is tasked with keeping the museum/inn property running after head curator Abe is murdered in a case of mistaken identity. When she realizes that the local PD isn't quite up to the task of solving such a case, Grace's best recourse is to do as much as she can to help put things back on track. Clues don't just drop into her lap; she has to go through files and folders and work on her day job in between! I thought that this was a welcome break from the action-packed mystery route. I also enjoyed how there was more to discover aside from the main whodunit, and I have to admit that I was more hooked on Grace's family mystery. While this particular plot line isn't exactly rocket science, it still paves the way for future conflicts that might arise in the succeeding titles.

Ms Hyzy doesn't give up all of Grace's stories in just one book. She certainly knows how to whet a reader's appetite: introduced is a hint of a romance (blink-and-you'll-miss-it) between Grace and landscape architect Jack, as well as some unresolved issues between Grace and her sister Liza. I just wish Ms Hyzy had remembered to include Terrence (the manor's head of security) during the last bits; for someone who was very important in the beginning, he all but disappeared towards the end. I do hope to read more about him, as well as the other characters in Grace's life. Yes, even the infuriating ones.

NOTE: This review is done in response to the Whodunit Reading Challenge hosted by Mary, Myra, and Fats at Gathering Books.

The Satellite.

My first astrophoto. Not exactly the best shot since it's too bright but I can't help but feel so pleased that I had the opportunity to learn from a talented, patient, and generous group of astronomers.



Dance me to the end of love, Leonard Cohen sings for me tonight. We're still finding out how.

World Without End (Ken Follet)

To say that I found Ken Follet's World Without End rather disappointing would be an understatement. As someone who was really hooked on his Pillars of the Earth, chronicling the lives and the legacy of medieval lovers Jack and Aliena, I was really looking forward to reading World Without End because it was about their descendants and set in a similar tone, a familiar world.

Too similar and too familiar, I soon found out.

World starts as four young children witness a knight with a secret kill the men who are running after him. The children are from different worlds, unaware how the events of that day would have far-reaching effects that would shape who they would become. On paper, it sounds different from Pillars but somehow, this still echoes the previous work in characterization and plot so much that it feels like a mere rehash, and even then, falls short of its predecessor.

The characters seemed shopworn to me. They have no moral ambiguity that would have helped create tension or generate more sympathy: good characters are 'good,' bad characters are inexplicable driven by narrow-minded malice and evil. Merthin is the talented descendant of Jack Builder, so anything he touches turns to gold. He even survives the Black Plague in Italy, where he has established his fortune after years of struggling as an unrecognized builder in Kingsbridge. Stepping into Aliena's shoes is Caris, the intelligent daughter of a wealthy merchant and the love of Merthin's life. Like Merthin, Caris is written as if she has a halo around her head. Of course you know she is going to triumph against all adversity. There is no thrill here that suggests otherwise. Against these two would parade all sorts of envious, greedy characters, all cut from the same cloth, none coming remotely close to any sense or reason.

The only characters whom I thought might still surprise me were Gwenda, a thief's daughter and Caris' friend, and Thomas, the mysterious knight, but instead they are given such paper-thin existences. Gwenda, shrewd and capable but still of largely uninformed peasant stock, does an inexplicable job of sounding like a lawyer in one of the confrontations in this book. Sir Thomas is all but forgotten towards the end. There were so many times that I wanted to put this book down but I felt the need to finish it because I felt as if I owed it to the Mr Follet who wrote Pillars of the Earth.

I could go on and on about the things that I did not appreciate in this voluminous story (I haven't even started on the logical lapses in the plot) but I know I have to stop at some point. I still think Mr Follet is talented enough in bringing out the rich, even minute, details of medieval life and anyone interested in that might be persuaded to give this a try. I urge you to check out reviews from other readers, because I think this averages four stars on Amazon and GoodReads. But in the end, World Without End is not for everyone, and it was certainly not for me.

The Case of the Missing Servant (Tarquin Hall)

Murder and humor meet in this exotic gem of a mystery. Tarquin Hall's The Case of the Missing Servant takes place in the heart of India and serves up a sharp and entertaining whodunit through its array of colorful, memorable characters.

Vish Puri is a middle-aged private eye with a quick mind and an enterprising team (one that includes eyes and ears with nicknames like Facecream and Tubelight, plus a woman who answers nine undercover phone lines with a variety of voices). He prides himself on being a disciple of statesman Chanakaya and continues the ancient tradition of espionage and investigation that his guru has established. His bread and butter lies in investigating marriages, from doing background checks for couples who opt to marry for love instead of doing it the old-fashioned, arranged way to shadowing spouses accused of adultery. Since he trumpets that 'confidentiality is our watchword,' he also finds himself in some high-profile cases.

Such is his latest one: a female servant has disappeared from the employ of controversial lawyer Ajay Kasliwal under mysterious circumstances. The lawyer pleads his innocence and instructs Puri to help him. But with the servant's first name being his only lead, Puri must use all his resources to uncover the truth. It sounds almost impossible to solve at first but I admire how Mr Hall created a character who is smart enough to recognize opportunities and make India's red tape and complex systems work for the benefit of truth -- all in a light and very believable manner.

According to his biography, Mr Hall has worked and lived in India for quite some time and his familiarity with its way of life, language, and quirks definitely show in this novel. He has a very descriptive eye that he uses to establish the setting: 'Beneath faded, dusty awnings, cobblers crouched, sewing sequins and gold thread onto leather slippers with curled-up toes. Spice merchants sat surrounded by heaps of lal mirch, haldi and ground jeera, their colors as clean and sharp as new watercolor paints (p54-55).' As someone who is not at all that familiar with the Indian culture, I enjoy how passages like this create what Anne Shirley would call 'scope for the imagination.' Even though there is a part of me that wonders if Western authors writing about Eastern subjects tend to romanticize things, in the end, I think whatever traces of Orientalism there may be in the text still made the story come alive. I thought it made the setting such a delicious addition to the whole reading experience.

I enjoyed that there are three different plots going on at once. Aside from the main mystery, Vish Puri also has to a) dodge bullets from a mysterious party who wants him dead; and b) investigate the prospective groom of the granddaughter of a respected and decorated war veteran. What I liked most is how these sub-plots could hold their own against the main story without taking the focus away from it. I thought Mystery A was handled with panache (thanks to the presence of Puri's fascinating Mum) and was resolved so that it could still be revisited in latter adventures. On the other hand, there was Mystery B which involved a nice heartwarming twist that I admired. To some degree, I had guessed the outcome of the main mystery but there was still an element there that I didn't anticipate, which made the whole puzzle satisfying for me.

Mr Hall has created memorable characters that feel very authentic and I am intrigued to follow each one of them. The Case of the Missing Servant is a very enjoyable start to a promising series. It certainly made me want to read more of Vish Puri's India!

NOTE: This review is done in response to the Whodunit Reading Challenge hosted by Mary, Myra, and Fats at Gathering Books.

Want Books? (The Duff)

Want Books? is a weekly meme hosted at Chachic’s Book Nook and features released books that you want but you can’t have for some reason. It can be because it’s not available in your country, in your library or you don’t have the money for it right now.

Reading the premise of Kody Keplinger's The Duff was enough to make it skyrocket to my Want Books? List. Duff stands for Designated Ugly Fat Friend, a persona I've definitely come to identify with over the years. I'm actually pretty okay with who I am and how I look, so I can honestly accept that I am not the most attractive-looking one among my friends. In this YA novel, Bianca is witty and outspoken, and she also happens to be the least attractive one in her group of best friends. What's nice is that their circle of friends appears to be loyal and genuinely caring towards each other. But not everyone has a good opinion of Bianca, especially Wesley, who insults her but with whom she starts to develop an intriguing love/hate relationship. I'm not doing a good job of summarizing this, I know. I could just be pretty excited to read it.

In other news, I truly enjoy doing Want Books? posts. I don't add to the list regularly, but I've already acquired the two books that I've previously listed (although one of them will still be shipped at a later date). I guess having a list like this is a good motivator for me to pick up titles that I'm interested in, instead of abandoning them by the wayside once a different title catches my eye.