The Case of the Man Who Died Laughing (Tarquin Hall)

"With respect, sir, this is hardly the time to be thinking about your stomach."

"Don't worry, Inspector," said Puri. "There will be no thinking involved." (p64)

Vish Puri, Most Private Investigator, is back on a new case where the stakes are higher. It's a case that has most of India talking. The victim: rationalist Dr Suresh Jha, who dies when a sword is driven into his chest. The murderer: the goddess Kali, who appears in front of Jha and his colleagues one early morning in Central Delhi. The religious nature of the case has people talking and pretty soon Vish Puri is called to lend his expertise. What he uncovers is a complicated plot that takes him from university halls to sprawling ashrams and mixes faith, science, and greed. 

This was my second Vish Puri mystery and though it started out slowly for me, I thought it ended on a more satisfying note. Mr Hall has great way of bringing India to life, not just through the extensive and vivid descriptions but even through his characters' nuanced speech patterns and thought processes. The circumstances in the book feel much more dangerous than they had been the first time around so it's amazing how Puri and his operatives use everything in their arsenal to ensure that those who are guilty are punished. Readers get a clearer idea of who Facecream, Tubelight, Handbrake, and Flush are as Mr Hall shares with us some of their backstories. The mystery also touches on the dangers of fanaticism and the corrupt practices of those who try to take advantage of those who are vulnerable. What drives people to seek out mystics among mortals and turn them into gods? How far would a man go for his cause? 

In spite of the heavy nature of the mystery, the book never feels bogged down. It remains a light-hearted read, especially when you have someone like the charismatic and enterprising Vish Puri for a protagonist. Also engaging was the accompanying mystery involving Puri's wife Rumpi and his fiery and delightful Mummy. All in all, The Case of the Man Who Died Laughing is one smart, colorful, and highly entertaining read.

The Trident of Merrow (Amber Marshall & Kristopher Lewis)

Readers who enjoy their adventure stirred with some romance will find much to like in The Trident of Merrow. The story moves swiftly, following two separate crews: the Sea Drake, where Tosh is imprisoned by the pirate Jebediah Blud and a powerful Strega witch with an agenda, and the Gallows Jig, captained by Tosh’s childhood friend Germaine . From mutiny and sea monsters to airships and ancient rituals, The Trident of Merrow delivers action at a blistering pace.

The first pages immediately throw the reader into Tosh’s world: not just a swift mapping of the circumstances surrounding her current life but also a taste of the place she inhabits. She and her father live in Kingsport but their lives and trade revolve around the Shardsea. By the end of the chapter (it must be noted that the chapters are relatively short), Tosh’s adventure is already well underway. The action is instinctive. It sweeps the readers from the sea into the air; one can almost hear the John Williams soundtrack.

I liked how the magic elements were handled here. Ships employ a weather mage, with limited but useful abilities to calm huge waves or dispel a fog, but who can also appeal to and negotiate with various elementals to help them with more difficult tasks. I also enjoyed reading about the melding of magic and technology; at one point they even use it to create the Aquan equivalent of a missile.

Another interesting aspect of the story is its mythology. Aquan gods and goddesses are binaries: brothers and sisters are also rivals locked in battle. For instance, the Strega witches worship the Abyssal Lord Merrow as the god of the sea while sailors believe in Tryta, the Harlot Mother of Tides. I thought this framed the other binaries of the narrative quite nicely: magic and technology, the Gallows Jig and the Sea Drake, the Rozinante and the Colossus, Germaine and Massimo.

Unfortunately, Tosh is not as strong a character as she first appears to be. It’s evident that the authors tried to distance her from other literary damsels in distress by making her useful and allowing her attempts to rescue herself from her captors (she’s a steam mechanic, with life skills that come in handy once in a while). But there’s something about her that just falls short of being a compelling and relatable lead. It seemed rather unfortunate that the story’s main conflict revolved around Tosh and Massimo when they could be counted among the weaker characters.

However, that doesn’t diminish the impact of the other characters in the story. The Brinhold twins, Brion and Gage, are colorful members of the team who present interesting perspectives. Their backstory alone paints an intriguing culture and dynamic that I hope can be further explored should the authors choose to expand the book into a series. There is also Ama, the resident Manic Pixie Girl-type, an endearing addition to the story even if she only appears in the latter half of the book. Even Germaine, the knight errant, has moments of conflict and introspection, which surprised me because I had expected him to be a one-dimensional character. They might all fill certain stock roles, but they evade the predictability of their tropes just enough to ensure that the story remains memorable.

Despite the non-stop adventure, readers are constantly reminded that The Trident of Merrow is also a romance. In fact, it ends with a realization on Tosh’s behalf regarding the nature of love: not as a rosy-colored, sugar-coated fantasy [but]... seeing someone at their worst, a filthy keening animal. Wise words, but when concluded by someone whose own romance unfolds like the nautical equivalent of the Stockholm Syndrome, it just doesn’t deliver the desired impact. It’s actually the romances in the story that prevent me from fully enjoying the story; sometimes it can get cloying, other times just plain confusing.

Though The Trident of Merrow winds down to a predictable conclusion (the final confrontation with the Big Bad seems almost anti-climactic), there are a lot of moments in the journey that are exhilarating. Young adult readers will enjoy this alternative to the sword-and-sorcery medieval fantasy, and even older ones won’t regret a brief afternoon spent lost among the waves of the Shardsea.


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This review is cross-posted to Adarna SF. The author provided a free copy for this review.

Loot and Other Stories (Nadine Gordimer)

Nadine Gordimer wasn't required reading when I was a Lit undergraduate but I wish she had been. The 1991 Nobel Prize winner for Literature is always asking questions through her text -- questioning social behaviors, facilitating political discussions especially those concerning her country, South Africa -- and does it with a deft hand. I actually feel inadequate just attempting to describe her writing.

The title story "Loot" is certainly the most lyrical, about an earthquake that "drew back the ocean as a vast breath taken." The ocean floor and its treasures are laid bare ("People rushed to take; take, take(p3)"), consumed by a greed that spurs them to possess things that are not theirs, reclaim someone else's memories. Ms Gordimer describes the frenzied scene with an almost breathless tone to her narrative, before ending with the story of one man in particular who has joined the looting. It is here that the story takes on a political undertone, setting the mood for the entire collection.

My favorites though were "The Generation Gap" where four grown-up children deal with the breakdown of their elderly parents' marriage late in the relationship and "L,U,C,I,E." which is about a trip to Italy shared by a woman and her distant father, visiting the tomb of the grandmother after whom she is named. I've never been a politically-minded reader in the first place so I naturally gravitated towards the strong familial themes of these stories. "The Generation Gap" is effective in its depiction of a family left scrambling after their father leaves their mother for another woman. What follows is an upheaval of the dynamics of their old life; familiar roles and definitions are changed, relationship lines are redrawn. There is an almost-detached reportage quality to the text, an outsider's view of a very personal matter, and the story never declines into melodrama despite its very nature. In contrast, it is the conversational (but no, not friendly) of "L,U,C,I,E." that drew me to it. Here, the narrator is actively inviting the reader into her thoughts: her relationship with her father, the awkwardness of it, the discomforting details of an Italian cemetery. "Karma" takes the prize for being the most ambitious, and though it isn't my favorite, it ends the collection on a strong note as it tackles death, karmic Return, and the nature of life in five different voices.

The themes of avarice and desire and possession are not uncommon in literature, but in Loot and Other Stories, they find new skin. The book is both beautiful and uncomfortable, and either way, quite startling.

Interim Goddess of Love (Mina Esguerra)

In her latest book, Mina Esguerra combines contemporary teen romance with hints of Philippine mythology to offer a satisfyingly-layered and unique read. Here, Hannah already has a job helping out at the Guidance Office but on top of that, the Sun God has also asked her to fill in for the Goddess of Love temporarily. Not exactly the easiest job for a sophomore on scholarship who's still trying to find her place at an expensive college. Interim Goddess of Love is the first book of a planned series, and aside from Hannah's struggles, it also features her first project: Kathy, a girl who claims to be 'invisible' but is getting lots of attention from a secret admirer.

Readers looking for a definitive introduction to Philippine mythology might want to look elsewhere, but for the casually curious, Interim Goddess of Love intersperses enough hints of Filipino gods and goddesses between Hannah's college life. As the IGoL, Hannah is privy to a number of romantic situations (and cute guys!). You get a good glimpse of the inhabitants of Ford River College from her perspective -- the mortals and the deities, the RKs (rich kids) and the SKs (scholarship kids). The author excels in capturing a certain slice of Filipino life that I think is alternately familiar and unique. The writing is smooth and the whole book is broken down into different situations that almost seem episodic to me.

What I admire most about Ms Esguerra's stories is that they create romantic moments without always resorting to Hollywood's Big Gesture but still have enough warm and fuzzy feelings to go around. I really loved how Kathy's love story was developed. The gifts she got from her secret admirer were swoon-worthy, the kind that will make a girl go, "Hey, this guy really gets me!" I also enjoyed reading about the divinities mentioned in the story. The pantheon of Filipino gods is huge and tends to vary from region to region, so a local reader like me had the added bonus of trying to remember which god was which. I also think that the book sets up the rest of the series quite well, and I look forward to seeing how Hannah's powers develop in time and if she'll find her own match in the game of love.

--
Note: Real life recently demanded time away from my online one, especially with the huge Ati-Atihan festival annually held in our town. I hope I can slowly catch up with my long line of reviews to write. Please be patient with me!

The Duff (Kody Keplinger)

Maybe it's not good to start the new year -- and a leap year at that -- by declaring that I can totally relate to the Designated Ugly Fat Friend (DUFF). That's who I am and I don't think there's any harm in admitting that. In Kody Keplinger's The Duff, Bianca Piper starts a hate-love relationship with Wesley when he acquaints her with the term. Not exactly the most promising start to any kind of relationship with each other, as they are about to find out. (Spoilers ahead, because it is hard to review this book without dishing out some of the details.)

There were a lot of elements about The Duff that surprised me. Of course this is not the first YA book to mention sex, but the way Bianca and Wesley dive into their enemies-with-benefits arrangement shows a view of contemporary teenage relationships that is markedly different from the ones I've previously read about. I couldn't understand how Bianca would feel that engaging in an intimate relationship with someone she says she hates is going to make her feel better. Am I supposed to give her a pass because she's a teenager? I'm no angel but to be honest, reading about all the casual sex this book made me feel like the world's biggest prude. I have to give it Bianca though. She knows she's making a mistake but still she is all gung-ho about it, damn the consequences.

Still I could see Bianca struggle with her need to find an anchor in her life, even if that anchor was sex. Some people would turn to friends, others to alcohol or school activities. Yet Bianca chose this complicated relationship with Wesley to escape her problems with her alcoholic father. The story really has more to do with that and little to do with her struggles about being labeled fat or ugly, so if you're looking for those triumphant Cinderella rom-coms, look elsewhere. You won't find it here. Thankfully, it takes her loyal and caring group of friends and their own insecurities to make Bianca see that every girl can feel down about herself once in a while and this doesn't mean the end of the world.

Bianca is sharp and cynical, and in parts, she is also rather selfish and facetious. Given everything, she does feel realistically drawn. But the subject matter and approach used in The Duff can be very polarizing and despite my high hopes for it, I realize it isn't completely for me. I'm just too old for this.

Bookworm Gallery: Going Places with Books

One of my resolutions for the new year is to put varied content on my blog. Other than reviews, I've decided to start featuring different kinds of readers, highlighting one every month. For January, I asked award-winning travel blogger Nina Fuentes of Just Wandering (which recently bagged Nuffnang's 2011 Asia-Pacific Blog Awards for Best Travel Blog) to answer a few questions about her reading habits. She's been blogging since 1998, but only started blogging about travel in 2006. She's been all over the Philippines, Asia, and Australia. Recently, she went on an 18-day adventure in Morocco. Nina reads everyday, but it's a mix of books and smutty fanfiction. When she's not obsessing over Drarry (that's Draco x Harry to those not acquainted with slash), she would read about her next destination.

1. Name three books that you feel would explain the kind of reader you are.
Vroom with a View by Peter Moore, Chō yo Hana yo by Yoshihara Yuki, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by JK Rowling

2. Do you often bring a book with you when you leave? What was the last book you read on a trip?
I always bring a book when I travel, though there's no guarantee that I would read them. The last book I read while on a trip was Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, which I read for the book club.

Nina on the sand dunes of Morocco. Photo by Cla.
3. Who are your favorite authors? Is there anyone on your auto-buy list?
Peter Moore. I have all his published books, and have even read the abridged versions he submitted for a compilation of travel essays. I love reading his books because it's like listening to a friend sharing his stories on the road. His books are very conversational and I love his sense of humor. I actually even met him while traveling back in 2007!

I was in Melbourne when Peter Moore released his latest novel, Vroom by the Sea. He had a launch, which I was unable to attend, but luckily he called out for an informal get together at a bar by the beach. There were only two of us who came and the other girl didn't arrive until two hours after I did so I was able to bombard him with questions. I can't remember everything we talked about, but the thing that made the most impact on me was that he's been to more places in the Philippines than I had. I was feeling rather sheepish, so I made an effort to travel more locally. And I did.

4. What was the best book you read last year? What are you looking forward to reading in 2012?
Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux because I feel it gave me a better look at Africa. For 2012, I'm looking forward to reading Lonely Planet's Europe on a Shoestring.

5. How do you feel about e-books and e-readers?
E-books and e-readers will never replace the real thing. On the other hand, I cannot deny how convenient they are, specially if you're traveling. No longer do I have to lug around a bulky guidebook that takes up a lot of space and eats up my baggage allowance; I just download a copy to my iPod, along with my music, games and videos.

For Nina, "Reading is just like traveling: it take you places and even brings you beyond the things you can imagine. It opens your eyes to a world outside what you know." We may not all literally go places like her, but through reading, we can still do so figuratively (or should I say literarily?) A big shout-out to our favorite travel blogger for sharing her thoughts on this space!

12 Days of Literary Christmas

I got this meme from Meann a.k.a. The Girl Who Read. It looked too much fun to pass up! Plus, it's a great way for me to wrap up the year. The literary characters and authors mentioned here are only some of my 2011 favorites.

On the first day of Christmas,
I'll give Turnip Fitzhugh from The Mischief of the Mistletoe
one large Christmas pudding.

On the second day of Christmas,
I'll give Charlotte and Henry from The Infernal Devices
two Shadowhunters.

On the third day of Christmas,
I'll give Celia Rae Foote from The Help
three bouncing babies.

On the fourth day of Christmas,
I'll give Fr Gus Saenz and Fr Jerome Lucero from Smaller and Smaller Circles
four new mysteries.

On the fifth day of Christmas,
I'll give Peter S. Beagle
five unicorns (here's hoping they inspire him to write more amazing collections).

On the sixth day of Christmas,
I'll give Sorcha from the Sevenwaters series
six lifetimes with her brothers, one for each one.

On the seventh day of Christmas,
I'll give Vish Puri
seven samosas. Or seven bowls of butter chicken. Or seven of anything fried and spicy.

On the eighth day of Christmas,
I'll give Flavia de Luce
eight potent poisons. Not that I'd wish for her to use it on her sisters, but it would be great to see her progressing with her chemistry.

On the ninth day of Christmas,
I'll give NK Jemisin
nine shiny goddesses.

On the tenth day of Christmas,
I'll give Sonmi~451 from Cloud Atlas
ten full libraries. ¡Viva la Revolución!

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
I'll give Cameron Quick from Sweethearts
eleven hugs from Jenna. Heaven knows the boy deserves it.

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
I'll give Terry Pratchett
twelve amazing years. I always wish you the best, Sir Pratchett!


Thanks again to Meann for this meme -- Happy New Year, everyone!

The Girl Who Chased the Moon (Sarah Addison Allen)

The Girl Who Chased the Moon was part of my best friend's birthday present for me. Not only does she know that I like Sarah Addison Allen, she also assumed that it had something to do with astronomy, an expectation that I had earlier shared as well. Halfway through the book, I realized that we were a bit off, but that didn't keep me from enjoying the book.

The story moves quickly, and in Ms Allen's style, is filled with elements that make it into a quirky and comfortable read. When teenage Emily Benedict's mother passes away, she is sent to live with her grandfather in Mullaby, NC. But Emily is surprised that her activist mother had another life when she was in Mullaby, and her departure from the town is shrouded by a secret that no one seems to be quite eager to tell Emily. People here look at her differently because of her mother's past. Still, Emily is not without allies. She befriends her next door neighbor Julia Winterson, who bakes with longing, and the mysterious Win Coffey.

If you are a first-time reader of the author's work, this isn't a bad place to start, although I would recommend The Sugar Queen instead. I thought that there were some parts here that felt clunky to me, like the not-quite-explained attraction between Julia and Sawyer (though the Lost fan in me irrationally rejoiced upon seeing their names together), the secret behind the Mullaby Lights, and Dulcie's part in the whole thing. I thought that there wasn't enough evidence to support these three things. But Ms Allen's are not often about rationality as they are about magic, faith, and hope. There are a lot of those magical elements in this book -- bigger, in my opinion, than the ones in Garden Spells or The Sugar Queen. And what I liked about the book were certainly more than enough to overpower those that I didn't. One of the best things about this is Emily's character and the way she approaches her unusual situation. She conducts herself with a commendable amount of dignity and bravery, and there were really moments here when she defends her mother that I think is handled with much sensitivity and insight.

Time will tell if The Girl Who Chased the Moon will become my favorite of Ms Allen's work. Despite its flaws, something in this book really resonates with me. It speaks of loss and belonging, of misplaced grievances and faith restored, and of course, family. For me, it is always a joy to read something that unabashedly appeals to that part of us that remains childlike and hopeful, especially during the holidays.

--
It's Christmas Eve as I write this. Merry Christmas to you and yours!

The Longing.

I used to think, if we kissed

in every time zone, it would always be the blue hour
in which I loved you. It still is. The literal

lightning bolt lodged in your family tree. The erased
surname. The alibi bone placed inside you.

A secret takes on a shape beyond language, becomes
tangible, something potentially broken

in half, for the world to see and give words to.
- from Jeffrey McDaniel's Meeropol

Sometimes it just hits me, how I miss certain things and certain people. How different my life would have been if we had moved to Singapore like we had planned or if I had stayed in Hanoi on that strange whim that still haunts me from time to time. Would I still find myself sipping coffee at the What If Cafe of my thoughts, waiting for someone to arrive to tell me about his day? Oh, the stories we would share.

The Concubine's Tattoo (Laura Joh Rowland)

Ever have those books that you want to read but never seem to have the time to buy? For Christmas, one of my best friends Kaoko gave me Laura Joh Rowland's The Concubine's Tattoo. It's been on my TBR list since forever since I've always been partial to books set in Asia or have Asian elements in them. With the additional mystery element, I was really eager to read this. But since I kept seeing it around everywhere, it was one of those books that I always assumed I would buy eventually, no rush. Thankfully, Kaoko came to the rescue.

The Concubine's Tattoo isn't the first of the Sano Ichiro mysteries set in 17th-century Edo, Japan, but it's the first one to feature Sano as a married man. The opening scenes is of the samurai investigator marrying Ueda Reiko, the magistrate's daughter. Unfortunately, their marriage celebration is interrupted by the death of Lady Harume, who appears to have been poisoned after she makes a tattoo on a place only a lover is bound to see. Not exactly the most auspicious of starts to a marriage. This particular murder investigation takes Sano and his retainer Hirata into the inner chambers of the emperor's palace, and makes them deal with spurned lovers, jealous rivals, and a whole slew of political maneuverings.

One of the major draws for me is how the mystery takes place around a Japanese court. (Aside: I enjoy reading mysteries that take place in exotic locales. This year, I've read mysteries that occurred in India, China, and Russia, to name a few.) I thought Ms Rowland was able to transport me there and make me feel as if I am privy to what goes on there. Secondary characters and even suspects are fleshed out in brief yet bold sketches. Not everything is told from Sano's point-of-view, and I thought the additional perspectives made this a richer and more detailed reading experience.

Because sosakan Sano belongs to the samurai class, he has certain values and beliefs that hinder the smooth flow of his investigations. For example, handling corpses is a job for outcasts so you can't have post-mortem examinations left and right. Then there is of course the bushido code that Sano tries to live by, which prevent him from questioning his more prominent suspects outright. I like how Ms Rowland cleverly utilizes these in her book, making Sano Ichiro quite different from other detectives that I have read.

Now at the risk of sounding like a prude, I will have to admit: the sexual activity in this book took me by surprise. I know. The mystery involves the emperor's concubines, plus it had a newly-wedded couple in it, so I had to expect it, right? Uh, not quite. It was a little more than I had expected to read, especially given that this as my initiation into the series. Whether the rest of the books are as sexually provocative or not remains to be seen. Still, my curiosity has already been piqued by The Concubine's Tattoo . As a detective, Sano Ichiro faces intriguing dilemmas that I haven't encountered in other mysteries, and I'm eager to see what other adventures he and his crew will have at court.

After the Rain (Norma Fox Mazer)

Upon having dinner with Cel and Chachic last week, I was reminded of how little YA I've been reading these past few weeks. Not because there is an extreme lack of it in my library; my friend Oz has kept me well-supplied. But since I kept shuttling back and forth Manila since September, most of the books that I have bought and borrowed have remained in the city even when I had already returned to the province. Well, now that I'm in Manila I have no excuse, so I took on Norma Fox Mazer's After the Rain.

I had read Ms Mazer's Babyface a long time ago and I had A My Name is Ami /B My Name is Bunny when I was in grade school, but I really can't remember how those books made me feel. After the Rain has a fairly straightforward storyline about a teenage girl and her dying grandfather, without a lot of plot hooks and twists. It starts out rather slowly mainly because Rachel isn't particularly memorable for me. She felt very gloomy (although I suppose if I had been younger, I would have liked the fact that she wanted to be a writer).

Although it took me a while to warm up to the story, I eventually started getting interested in the relationship between Rachel and her ornery grandfather Izzy. The characters in the book always call Izzy 'mean', but it really feels that we have different definitions of the word. I thought Rachel's character only emerged through her grandfather's influence, and by the end of the book, I felt truly invested in the things that she cared about, as opposed to my indifference to her in the beginning. I like how the book scrutinized the other relationships within their family, the cracks in their facades.

One of the strengths of novel lies in how Rachel and Izzy grew, both as individuals and in terms of their relationship as granddaughter/ -father. It's a solid YA read, if you can soldier through the heavy mood of the themes tackled here and Rachel's own serious outlook as a protagonist. The payoff is touching, poignant, and leaves enough room for reflection.

The Infernal Devices Book Two: Clockwork Prince (Cassandra Clare)

Ever since I read Cassandra Clare's Clockwork Angel, I've been eagerly awaiting its sequel. Clockwork Prince still has a lot of the elements that I enjoyed from the first book, especially the melding of Victorian romance and fantasy -- a true guilty pleasure read for me. But I have to admit that I was a bit disappointed by the absence of a pronounced challenge posed by the Magister's automatons, despite a grand battle with one of them at the book's climax. However, it just felt that it was missing the fear of the unknown that had sparked the incidents of the first book: the Clave didn't know who or what they were up against, and I thought that effectively highlighted each character's way of reacting to and coping with conflict. Since in this sequel they already know who they're dealing with, it didn't feel as exciting to me as the first book had been.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Clockwork Prince is meant to be a transition book: the Institute, led by (my favorite characters in the series) the young Charlotte Branwell and her absent-minded husband Henry, is on the trail of the Magister. Their investigations reveal that he is driven by revenge, not greed, and despite his absence he has left others to do his work. Readers also find out more about Will and Jem, the Institute's teenage Shadowhunters, and Tessa finally makes a choice between them.

I'm not too sold on the conflict/resolution introduced here about Will's behavior towards people. He was already a bit Jace 2.0 (from her Mortal Instruments trilogy) but it was something I overlooked in the beginning because I had faith that he would have a different story. But with the latest development, I think he just grew more into his Jace skin. Jem also does something here that I question given his condition, and I'm not inclined to dismiss this easily knowing that he had refused to be Will's parabatai before. It makes me feel that I'm re-learning their characters all over again. It still makes for an interesting read when you realize that there is more to the characters that you didn't consider before, but it runs the risk of them coming out as uneven and inconsistent. Despite not being as enjoyable as Clockwork Angel had been, I still look forward to reading more of the London Institute. There is enough action and promise here to anticipate a highly-charged conclusion.

The Help (Kathryn Stockett)

My youngest sister and I are attempting to 'buddy-read', and we decided on Kathryn Stockett's The Help, about the life of domestics and their employers in Jackson, Mississippi during the sixties. The story unfolds through the eyes of three people: Aibileen and Minny, two black women working for different families, and Skeeter, a fresh graduate who is best friends with both of their employers (or in Minny's case, former). Skeeter, determined to write something significant, manages to convince Aibileen to start sharing her story as a colored maid, and this enables other women to give voice to their own struggles and loves.

My copy of the book came with a short essay by Ms Stockett, part of which I would like to quote here because I thought it was very telling:

'I am afraid I have told too little. Not that life was so much worse for many black women working in the homes in Mississippi, but also that there was so much more love between white families and black domestics than I had the ink or the time to portray.

I don't presume to think that I know what it really felt like to be a black woman in Mississippi, especially in the 1960s. I don't think it is something that any white woman on the other end of a black woman's paycheck could ever truly understand...(p461)'

I picked these lines because as an Asian reader born in the late 70s, there seems little to tie me to this story, at least on the surface. I cannot review it and say that I know exactly the perspective from which Ms Stockett is telling her story. But what I think she elegantly captures is how lives simultaneously go on, twine and intertwine, despite imaginary lines that we draw and labels that we put on different people -- and it is to this that I hold on. We've always had help in our family, most of them staying for years. There are helpers I've gone to watch movies with. There is one who's made me godmother to her son. There is another who has racked up a (nearly) P30,000 phone bill, which she is still paying for up until today. We've had our ups and our downs. So to a certain extent, despite my being worlds away from the life that Ms Stockett paints in her novel, there were many instances that resonated with me as I read The Help.

I applaud how there are so many different and well-fleshed out female characters in this book. Aibileen is such a sympathetic old soul, in many ways the anchor of this story. It is Skeeter's story arc that we follow however, as the novel traces her starting out with an ambitious project that she doesn't know will impact her life greatly. One of my favorites in the book was Celia, a poor white woman who employs the unemployable Minny, whose own struggles as an outcast is touching. But as there are admirable female characters, there are also those who are vilified by their own actions. Still, I think Ms Stockett manages to portray them with much fairness, giving them nuances so that they avoid being mere stock characters.

The women's book project is the first of its kind and they risk so many things to get it out. But what I truly like is that how they never really set out to change the world or even their community. They just wanted to tell a story. In The Help, Ms Stockett produces a worthy debut novel that deftly captures that very simple goal.

Scribbled: Special Delivery

Got my copies in the mail today!

Scriber (Ben S Dobson)

Despite being firmly of the medieval European vein, Scriber is an epic fantasy that manages to deliver freshness, deftness, and a fair dose of gender sensitivity to the genre's tropes. It moves from mystery/scavenger hunt to epic battle to morality tale but does it in an effective and seamless way. In this book, the Kingsland is being threatened by a group of rebels who seem determined to burn the kingdom down. Thrust into the middle of the action is Dennon Lark, a Scriber who is hiding away in the small village of Waymark but now the unfortunate target of the mysterious Burners. Lucky for the villagers, Bryndine Errynson and her company of female soldiers ride in to save most of them, but what Dennon and Bryndine don't know is that this is only the beginning of a quest that forces them together to save the Kingsland from a threat that none of them had imagined.

What first drew me to it was the choice of Dennon Lark, a historian, as the narrator. A fitting choice given his profession, though he is far from the kind of protagonist that most epic fantasies require. Dennon spends far too much time being afraid of his own shadow. His cowardice is often mentioned in the book -– from his desire to hide from the world after a personal endeavor turns tragic to his fear of Sylla, the self-appointed bodyguard of Bryndine Errynson.

A counterpoint to him is Bryndine, niece to the King and generally shunned to Hester Prynne-like proportions as a blasphemer for taking up arms and leading a company of female soldiers. She is the story's heroic trope, given bulk and battle ferocity to make her appear physically unattractive, but with a steadiness of character and purpose that made me cheer for her at every turn. Her actions are tolerated only because she is of noble blood and even among people she saves, she is neither admired nor thanked. Turn Bryndine male and the character loses much of its vulnerability and pathos.

I like how Mr Dobson gives us protagonists we can get behind and uses both Dennon and Bryndine to show different kinds of bravery, different kinds of battles, different kinds of heroes.

Even the warrior women are given nuanced roles. There are about twenty of them but the author knew how to write for them, how to introduce them to the reader so that you are never overwhelmed. Mr Dobson made sure that you paid attention to the right ones at the right times. One that particularly stood out was Wynne, with her hopefulness and desire for learning, and at the end of the book I really did feel as if I were part of this company.

I felt completely immersed in this world. Here, scribers like Dennon are tasked with recovering the kingdom's forgotten history, lost during a Forgetting instigated by a King who had razed all books and knowledge to the ground. It's a monumental task but one that Dennon approaches with passion and devotion, and snippets of all that he has discovered, as we ll as his thoughts, are revealed in brief passages before each chapter. But in spite of this, the world-building in Scriber is never unwieldy. In fact, I would go out on a limb and say that every detail mentioned had something to contribute to the plot and wasn't just included for flavor or scene-setting. (Let me know if I'm wrong.) Every little thing seemed to matter; nothing felt wasted.

I'm always up for a good series, but I'm a reader who is more impressed when a story wraps itself up satisfyingly in just one take. My only real concern with Scriber was how quickly the characters seemed to jump to conclusions while putting clues together. But that is little compared to how the story works itself to a glorious and emotionally-charged climax. Scriber ticks all the right boxes and reminds me that with indie releases like this, epic fantasy refuses to be just another tired and battle-worn genre.

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This review is cross-posted to Adarna SF. The author provided a free copy for this review but damn, I have resolved to buy copies for Christmas presents.

Witches' Forest (Mishio Fukazawa)

It was one of those days again -- I needed a quick fix but my visit to Book Sale didn't yield much success in the YA department. I found a number of choice titles, though: Thomas Pynchon, Julian Barnes, Paul Theroux. At the last minute, I decided to add the Tokyopop translation of Mishio Fukazawa's Witches' Forest. It promises to be an RPG fantasy, which I didn't mind at all because I usually love that sort of thing.

Reading Witches' Forest definitely reminds me of the role-playing games that I play and the shounen anime that I watch --- so much that a part of me wished I had a manga in my hands. However, despite being a really easy read there is nothing much here to recommend. This is the story of Duan Surk, a Level 2 card-carrying member of the Adventurers Club, lost in the Witches' Forest after a pathetic stint with the army and accompanied by his grinia (lizard) Check. He teams up with the older and much more experienced fighter Olba October and then later, the fire-mage Agnis Link. It's pretty straight-forward, filled with familiar tropes and two-dimensional characters that make the plot trite and predictable.

But one reason that kept me going until the end was that the story acknowledged all those tropes and cliches -- embraced them, in fact. The characters had boss battles at the end of nearly every other chapter. They Leveled Up whenever they defeated a monster. They spoke of earning Experience Points. The book even has character profiles and adventurers' tools that poke fun at themselves (ropes that never break, lanterns that never run out of light). Given all of that, the entire story is actually very meta. Now if only it was half as interesting.

Witches' Forest is actually packed with a lot of action that if I were to turn it into an anime, I'd have a healthy monster-of-the-week shounen series in my hands. But then again, there is so much more to shounen anime that this story doesn't quite capture. So don't expect too much from Witches' Forest unless you're ten and very new to RPG. Otherwise, its charm might not work well on you.

Scribbled: The Breath and the Verse

Apparently, you can view a bottle containing Thomas Edison's last breath in the Henry Ford Museum, but there are also reports that there are 41 other bottles around. How do you know which one contains his final moment then? Oh, you had to be there.

My poem "The Forty-Two Last Breaths" appears in TAYO Literary Magazine's 3rd Issue (Print Edition). Do check it out, and if you're feeling generous, support the cause. TAYO Literary Magazine 'is dedicated to the creation, cultivation, and promotion of Filipino and Filipino-American arts and culture.'

She Lover of Death (Boris Akunin)

I've had this on my Amazon wishlist for a few years now but just bought it last September, not realizing that 1) Boris Akunin also wrote the Sister Pelagia series that I often see in local stores; 2) She Lover of Death is part of a different series; and 3) I wasn't starting where I should.

Despite my ignorance, there were plenty of things that I liked about She Lover of Death. In turn of the century Russia, suicides seem like all the rage. They seem to stem from a suicide club called the 'Lovers of Death,' which attracts the young and innocent Masha Mironova, who renames herself Columbine when she moves to the capitol from her provincial hometown, in pursuit of a boy. But it is not love that awaits her in Moscow but death. Her infatuation pushes her to join the suicide club but it is her desire for change and transformation that urges her to stay. The club operates with a limited membership, with new members only inducted after one has left their circle. The leader of the Lovers is the enigmatic Prospero, a much older man who makes the impressionable Columbine forget about her former infatuation. She is quickly initiated into the ways of the club: the Lovers read poems about Lady Death and hold seances, where their medium Ophelia announces whom Death has chosen next to be her bridegroom (or bride, as in the case of the female members). As a rule, that member must encounter three signs before the hour of his suicide, and so far all of them have seemed to go readily to their early graves leaving behind their macabre poetry. But Lavr Zhemailo, a reporter for the Moscow Courier, manages to sniff out this practice, but he's not the only one interested in finding out more about the club. Erast Fandorin, master of disguise and infiltration, is convinced there is more to this than mere suicide.

I like how there are different perspectives at work in the narrative: Columbine's diary, Zhemailo's newspaper articles and commentaries, ZZ's agents' reports, and even the Lovers' poems. They added layers to what I thought would have been an otherwise dry and straightforward mystery. I wish I had known more about Erast Fandorin (or as he was known in this novel, Prince Genji or Erast Petrovich Neimless). I can only blame myself for not doing my research. Because this title comes in the middle of the series, the author already supposes that the reader knows a lot about Erast Fandorin, and Mr Akunin focuses on the character Columbine instead. Here, I can only see glimpses of the charm and the methods that have made Fandorin into a popular detective but I'd readily chalk this up to my failure as a reader rather than to any inadequacies in the writing. There are references made here to Fandorin's incredible luck, which piqued my interest enough to read the earlier titles.

But Columbine's story is far from disappointing. Her character intrigued me, and her motivations, no matter how strange they felt to me, mix naivete with passion. In her, the reader sees a character seduced by Death as an ideal, an end to suffering, an end to a life of being ordinary. I always welcome reading books that give me unexpected insight into something very contrary to what I think, and despite my desire for a richer mystery, I found She Lover of Death still worth my while.

Battlehawk (MP Ericson)

I’d say that Battlehawk may be the one to try if you like a quieter sort of fantasy, but somehow that statement doesn’t seem to give justice to the action in this book. Though the novel doesn’t have any dungeon-crawling or dragon-slaying, it still boasts of its fair share of sword fights and battles, calling to mind the weight and grimness of early European history.

Battlehawk is the story of brothers Galchai and Hauel, raised to be swordsmen who will fight to take back their southern kingdom. While they differ in skill and perspective, the task of raising their people back to their former glory and freedom rests on their shoulders.

The novel flows easily, at least at first. I like how in the first eight pages, the author throws you in the middle of the story and expects you to pick it up quickly without burdening you with massive info-dumping. I think it was this kind of restraint that encouraged me to pick this novel up in the first place. It does well to open with Hauel and Galchai as children. Not only does it show the family dynamics, but it also allows the reader more insight into the protagonists’ personalities than the rest of the novel does. I also applaud its treatment of a kingdom in exile, beggared by the years.

Unfortunately, the transitions were a real problem for me. As the brothers grew older and the various tribes and rulers moved closer to the brink of war, I was kept guessing on how much time had really elapsed between events. I had a smoother time reading the first third of the book, leading me to eventually give up on constructing a more concise timeline.

I was also anticipating a pay-off that never really materialized. Based on the story summary, I thought I’d see a definitive showdown between Galchai and Hauel. I had to remind myself that not every difference of opinion must lead to outright conflict or confrontation.

There were other minor details that bothered me. The first page speaks of 'a door hooked open,' and to my mind, a door can either be hooked/latched or open, but never both at the same time. A few pages down, a duel between Hauel and his cousin Robar concludes with 'After that, it was all over. Within moments, Hauel lay on the ground, panting and writhing (page 5)'. But it is Hauel who wins that fight and not Robar. Maybe these can still be corrected in future versions of Battlehawk.

My biggest regret, however, is the minor role given to women in the book although the ending foreshadows a change of direction. Unfortunately, this feels like too little, too late. If one of the lessons of the novel is that society must not exclude feminine wisdom and perspective, then why did it seem like every decision made by women in this novel — at least decisions that the protagonists listened to — led everyone to harm? I wish that there wasn’t such a wide disconnect between intent and application so that the conclusions made at the end of the book are properly justified.

I still think that Battlehawk delivers a fairly enjoyable reading experience. The battle scene towards the end of the book is something I commend. Ms Ericson gives it proper treatment. She doesn’t just turn it into a cut-away scene or dismiss it in a summary. Instead, she allows the action and the drama time to steep and then utilizes these into a fitting climax for her story. In the end, I think Battlehawk would have rated higher if I had found the rest of the novel consistent with its promising beginning and moving conclusion.

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This review is cross-posted to Adarna SF. The author provided a free copy for this review.

Battle Royale (Koushun Takami)

While I thoroughly enjoy Japanese anime/manga/cinema/literature, I've always felt a little uncomfortable around the film Battle Royale. I like it enough, don't get me wrong. It's become iconic in its depiction of violence and fear, as it depicts the story of 42 students from Section 3-B of Shiroiwa Junior High who have been chosen to participate in the Program. The novel opens in 1997, and in this alternate timeline, Japan is part of the Republic of Greater East Asia. Its totalitarian government is behind the Program, 'a battle simulation [...] instituted for security reasons (p25)' where a junior high class is selected and its students forced to face each other and fight to the death until only one survives. It's the kind of movie I really don't want to watch again.

Given that, I don't really know why I agreed to read the source novel when my friend Oz foisted her copy on me. I was certain I was going to get more of the same violence I remember from the film, perhaps even more. What I didn't expect was a clearer look at the lives of each of the students. Even if they only appeared for a few pages, the students were given motivations and back stories by Mr Takami's skillful pen. This way, I really begun to see more than just typical cannon fodder, something that was not clearly evident in the film adaptation, though of course I can see why a different media would choose to treat the material differently. For the first time since I watched the movie, I understood what made Shuya Nanahara the most ideal protagonist in this situation. Shuya, a former star shortstop, is athletic, well-liked, calm under pressure -- and what's more is that he exercises estraint and aggression in equal measures. There is enough warmth and charm in him to enable him to get close to his other classmates at certain points during the game, thus affording us readers a better glimpse of their interactions and their beliefs. Through his eyes we see pacifists and sociopaths. We encounter cowards and idealists.

Shuya teams up with two of his classmates, Noriko Nakagawa and Shogo Kawada. Shuya feels a certain sense of responsibility over Noriko, his best friend's crush, and vows to protect her until the end of the Program. Shogo is a different story: an older, mysterious classmate whose survival skills greatly increase the group's chances for survival. Shuya and Noriko don't immediately trust Shogo, but eventually the two defer to Shogo's knowledge. This makes for some interesting dynamics. Shogo never wrestles the unofficial leadership position from Shuya despite the difference in their skills, acknowledging that he needs the protection Shuya offers as well. There's strength in numbers, especially when one of them is as athletic as Shuya. Shuya's trust also keeps Shogo from being targeted -- though not mistrusted -- by the others in their class. In the film, I actually questioned Noriko's role: superfluous and stereotypical. From start to finish she was a damsel to be rescued, pure and innocent, more disadvantages than strengths in a game like this. But it was the novel that enabled me to see her more as a symbol -- the hope buried underneath Pandora's box -- making her as essential to the purpose and message of the story, if not to the action.

When I finished the novel, I found myself reacting differently to it than I had to the film. Maybe it's because I'm a little older now and my perspectives have changed. Maybe the fundamental differences between both media naturally push my biases towards the written form. Whatever the reason, I am glad that I gave the Battle Royale novel a chance. Not only has it made me want to look for my old film CD and consider picking up the manga version as well (co-written by Mr Takami and Masayuki Taguchi), it's also given me much food for thought about fear and desperation in a collapsing society.