Tomes On Tuesday: A Veritable Slew of Books to Review

Some of you have noted that I seem to be in a reading slump and I've mentioned before that I keep trying to find the next series, the next book, the next STORY that will hold my attention and not make me want to give up and run sobbing across the room, tearing at my clothes and hair.

What?

Oh, sorry.  I was just having a flashback to the one book I've read recently that made me do that.  Let's go ahead and get that one over with:

Swamplandia by Karen Russell ~ I read this one based on the blurb read to me by my beloved Miz Mary, who rarely steers me wrong in terms of the Arts.  The blurb she read made this book sound like a modern hero's quest, featuring a plucky young protagonist, a weirdo family, and theme parks based around alligators and Hell.  I mean, come ON.  The front cover was nice, too, so I picked it up.   I sort of wish I hadn't.  As I started reading it, I thought, "And it's even magical realism.  Huzzah!" because that's what I thought it was.  A few pages in, I was starting to have my doubts.  I was also starting to be exhausted by the florid language.  I know, right?  Me?  Exhausted by florid language??  Yes, children.  Every other word seemed to be an adjective or metaphor, and that would be okay IF the magical realism thing had held up.  But a few chapters in, I knew that the magical realism thing was most certainly not going to hold up.  I kept waiting for the magic to kick in--there NEEDED to be myth in this story.  But it never showed up completely and the climax of the book--which I had called depressingly several pages beforehand--pretty much just burned every bit of myth out of that sucker.  The headlong sprint toward the resolution further stomped all over the mythological elements so that by the end of the book, in which everything got tied up in a boring brown bow, I tossed the book across the room and called Miz Mary.  "It's like Karen Russell wrote this huge, Southern, magical hero's quest and some editor got ahold of it and made her rip all of the mythy bits out," I complained.  Miz Mary agreed and added the rejoinder that it seemed to go even farther and underline the fact that believing in magic or something that might not be a tangible or normal part of this world will get you killed or ruin your life.  In the end, I came as close to hating a book as I have in a long time, and while I guess there's something to be said for a book that makes you feel such strong emotion, there's also something to be said for not shredding the hero quest archetype to ribbons, thankyouverymuch.

So, yeah, that one didn't do it for me.  BUT then I managed to get my paws on a veritable treasure chest of lovely stories that made me sigh happily and not want to leave the library.  Not all of these are new books  (and one is pretty old), but every single one of them has found a place amongst my book friends. I mean this in a metaphorical sense, because I don't have any more room on my shelves.  Sigh.

Forever by Maggie Stiefvater ~  Y'all know how I feel about this series, right?  If it was technically possible to tongue-kiss a series, I would totally bend this one over backwards and plant a big one right on its face. This has a lot to do with how well Mags writes her some teenage boys.  Teenage boys, as I'm sure you'll remember from high school, can be complete and utter asshats.  The good ones, therefore, are golden and Stiefvater has gotten herself a couple in this book who are simply perfect.  Not perfect as in, "So good you kind of want to barf on them" but perfect as in "prickly and sarcastic and flawed and morose and sweet and precious and...wait...do I have a crush on a werewolf in a teen novel?  Greeaaat." way.  Ahem.  This finale was told in Stiefvater's switch-up-the-narrator style, which she does well.  I sometimes find this voice disconcerting, but here, because the story is rocketing along AND stopping and starting, it works.  I adore Sam, the "main" boy, but Cole, the "bad" boy, gets a lot of play here, too--in fact, the dudes kind of take center stage.  The female protagonist, Grace, who spends the first part of the book as a wolf, seems almost a ghost of herself here, but again, it works, because there is the very real sense that Grace is disappearing, losing all of her that is girl and capable of being with Sam.  The final few chapters laid WASTE to me, in a good, cathartic, tear-snorting way--but also in a DAMN, life isn't fair way.  In the end, there isn't really an end, and while this usually bugs the crap out of me, I liked the open-endedness of it, and the fact that, in spite everything, maybe true love does win.  Maybe.  At least there's hope for it.  Um.  How many of y'all cry when you write a book review?  (Read this book and series and then eat a cookie.  It worked for me.)

Green Angel  and Green Witch  by Alice Hoffman ~ Let me break this down for you, okay?  Teen literature, magical realism, gardening, AND post-Armaggedonish.  WHAT?  Oh, oh...and these two books were written by Alice Hoffman, famous for Practical Magic  and first beloved by me for Here on Earth, which retold Wuthering Heights in such a way that, really, there's no way to pretend that Heathcliff wasn't a gigantic, awful person.  Anyway, I read these two slim novels as one normal-sized novel, and encourage you to do the same, with maybe a break in between to bathe or something.  Here's the deal:  Green is a quiet, normal kind of girl who knows the secrets of gardening.  She is left behind when her family goes to town, and is utterly destroyed when her family dies in a cataclysm.  I know, it sounds like I just spoiled the book for you, but that cataclysm is really only a tiny, itsy part in Green's story.  Well, I mean, it's CENTRAL to her story, but what is important about her story is not how she is destroyed, but how she rebuilds.  THIS is a hero's quest dripping and stinging and burning with magic.  There is so much pain and dirt and sadness that it seems sometimes as if you are being dragged behind Green as she sifts through the ashes, but there is never the sense that the dragging will go on forever.  The imagery in this story is beautiful, as it always is with Hoffman, and the magic is perfectly mixed with the reality of strong emotions.  I will caution you that Green Witch veers fairly sharply into straight-up fantasy, which was okay with me, of course, but might be a little jarring for some readers.  If you've ever read Lois Lowery's The Giver series, you'll understand when I say that Hoffman makes the transition from genre to genre much more smoothly than Lowry did.  (However, if you didn't read The Giver series, I have to ask you "Why?" and "Have you lost your head?" and "Why aren't you running out to get this series right now?")  This is a beautifully told, hopeful, and sweet story that will stay with me for a long time.

The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury ~ I'm pretty sure that it's some sort of sin for me as a former literature teacher and a lover of all things fantasy  not to have read this book of short stories until now.    I adored Fahrenheit 451 and when I taught "There Will Come Soft Rains" (which is in the book) one year, I had to go back to my desk so I could put my head down and cry for a few moments.  (My students were ALWAYS entertained.)  But, somehow, I never got around to reading the entire thing.  I could kick myself at the deliciousness I've been missing.  Let me tell you something about "literature":  it sucks, sometimes.  I'm thinking specifically of Thomas Hardy as I write this.  I know there are some people who ADORE Thomas Hardy's novels (my husband comes to mind), but for me, reading them is like wading through cold bogs of groats, suffering from a sore throat and a propensity for making bad choices.  Blech.  I like Hardy's poems, which are generally no more cheery than his novels, but at least the misery is condensed into a few lines which can be read in one sitting followed by a few Vitamin D tablets and maybe a shot of spiced rum.  God, where was I going with this?  Oh, right, the short story as a delivery system for literature:  it rocks.  You get all of the literary conventions in one tidy package, entire stories laid out and rolled up for you in one sitting.  I'm trying to figure out how to combine packages and apparently rugs and how awesome these stories are into a metaphor that doesn't involve you all feasting on packages, but I can't seem to do it, so let me just say, read this collection.  I shivered and cringed and laughed and sighed and sniffled and despaired and did some fist pumps the entire time I read.  I honestly don't think I can say that there were any stories here that didn't engender a visceral reaction in me.  Bradbury's dialogue occasionally reads a little bit like a 1940's movie script, but that's okay with me.  (It drives Will crazy, but he likes Faulkner's novels, so I don't even listen to him when he goes there.)  It suits the stories just fine.  What's particularly remarkable about this collection is that it traces a timeline:  the founding of an Earth colony on Mars all the way up to the defining moment of Earth history that makes Mars permanently home.  Every story is a step toward the end.  I don't know if I'd call the last story "happy," but it is hopeful, and that really seems to be the theme of my reading this summer.  Love this book.  Love.

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman ~ I've seen this novel in the bookstore and been told that I simply must read it and thought about reading it and never actually gotten around to reading it until this summer, and GAH what a mistake I made in buying that first book and not this one.  Oh, Neil Gaiman.  What a story this is.  I mean...really.  Nutshell:  baby's family is murdered, baby escapes to graveyard, baby is raised by ghosts.  What?  Yes, ghosts.  They name him Nobody and raise him up as best as a bunch of long-dead people can.  He turns out great, by the way.  If that was the whole story, honestly, it would be enough for me.  But it's NOT the whole story.  Underlying Nobody's life is an interconnected web of stories and characters and archetypes, all of whom are invested in this boy's survival--or his death.  I love when character archetypes are turned on their ear (which Gaiman does with vampires, werewolves, and witches here), but I also love when they are reinforced, and Gaiman reinforces the hell out of ghosts and mothers here.  This book won about seventy bajillion awards, including the Newbery Medal, which it deserved in a way I'm not sure a lot of Medal winners have recently.  I loved this book.  Loved it.  I loved this book so much that when I heard the movie version had stalled, I breathed a little sigh of relief.  (I still haven't gotten over them casting Lenny Kravitz in The Hunger Games.  I'm not sure I ever will.)  My goodness, it's so good.

Percy Jackson and The Lightning Thief  by Rick Riordan ~  I know, I know.  It's taken me a while to get to this series, probably because so many people called it the next Harry Potter and I was all, "Oh, no, they DI-INT."  There will be no next Harry Potter, y'all.  Okay?  Just saying.  Anyway, I stayed away, which is weird for me, because young hero on a quest with Greek gods thrown in?  Yeah.  Right up my alley.  But it was only until I saw the movie that I decided to read the book.  (About the movie.  Okay, I'm not sure it was, like, a stunner or anything, but it featured Sean Bean, who I like, as Zeus.  It also featured Kevin McKidd as Poseidon, and I'm sure he was great in the role, but I was too busy drooling into my popcorn over his godly self to really notice his performance.  Helllloooo, Mr. Poseidon.  Rawr.)  I'm glad I read it.  I mean, I'm not going to say it changed my life or anything, but it's well-written and clever, and a great way to introduce kids to Greek mythology, I think.  The deal is:  the gods and goddesses fathered (or mothered) children with humans and these demigod kidlets are hunted down by various monsters and baddies.  A refuge of sorts has been set up for these demigodlets (I slay myself) so they can learn about their powers and stay safe in the meantime.  One really neat-o thing, I thought, was that Percy Jackson had ADHD and behavior problems--which turned out to be manifestations of his god-blood.  Talk about a great way to snag kids with these particular challenges.  The story is fast-paced, as Percy and his pals set out to find the titular lightning of Zeus, which has been stolen.  The catch is that it must be found right quick or there'll be a war between the gods.  The Percy of the story is younger than the Percy of the movie, but the story is more intricate than the movie, so in some weird way that is probably entirely in my head, it all works out.  Great read-aloud book for the nine- and ten-year-old set, particularly the boys, I think.

What have you been reading?