Cinder - Marianne Meyer

Oh, dystopian re-telling of a fairy tale, how I was prepared to snub my nose in the air at you! How prepared I was to skim your pages, picking out parts of the Cinderella story, identifying characters as this or that archetype, and then pan you in the end as Yet Another Dystopian Re-telling of a Fairytale,

/EYEROLL.

And at first, you didn't (or did?) disappoint. Here was that same weird use of sentence fragments, the hating of which makes me a huge hypocrite because it's okay in my published-only-on-the-internet writing but not in a BOOK. With PAGES (or maybe e-pages - and hopefully a COPY-EDITOR who is trained to spot sentence fragments posing as stream-of-consciousness writing.) In fact, when I came across the Sentence Fragments of Potential DNF, I flipped immediately to the dust jacket to see if... yep, a first novel.

First time authors, STOP DOING THIS. And the rest of you, too, unless it is for emphasis and please only once per chapter at a maximum.

And then the story got rolling and it was fun and I stopped muppet-flailing over grammar (which is how you know I actually liked it). Cyborgs, an evil stepmother (natch), one good stepsister a la Ever After, and a prince-sometimes-in-disguise! People who actually die of the scary disease!

Meyer doesn't just walk the fine line between re-telling and re-packaging; she dances along it like a tightrope walker  from Cirque du Soliel. Not every character is recognizable from the original (or Disney) story, and the world-building is done with plausible elegance. The biggest quibble I had - once the sentences started having a proper structure as sentences should - was that it's set in Future Shanghai, but there was very little actual Chinese culture folded into the story; I would have liked to read more about how Meyer envisions Chinese culture adapting (or NOT adapting) to the future she has created.

As an added bonus, it's book #1. If there's one thing I like, it's seeing "Book 1" on the cover of a book I thoroughly enjoyed.

8.5 of 11 Creepy Moon Queens

The Dark is Rising - Susan Cooper

H'well, here we are with book #22 on the Top 100 Children's Novels list: The Dark is Rising, by Susan Cooper. I mentioned before that this is book 2 of The Dark is Rising Sequence, which seems misleading since the title is the same as the series (sequence) title. I wonder how many people have skipped Over Sea, Under Stone all together simply because they didn't know it exists? Which... I'm really glad I didn't because helloooo, my own particular brand of Reading OCD (wherein I have to start with Volume 1 of any series even if Volume 1 is irrefutably bad - this also extends to TV). This is a not-at-all-rare form of what we in our office call FOMO Syndrome.

SO! The book! Once nice thing about this - the second book in the series asImayormaynothavementioned - is that the plot doesn't give away ANY of what's discussed in the first book. Which... is a round-a-bout way of saying that the two books are only loosely connected.

King Arthur stories are tough because so often authors assume that we already know the story, which we all sort-of do (some of us more than others because of the musical Camelot and Disney's The Sword in the Stone. Some of us also may have infuriated their mothers when they were teenagers by calling her "Mad Madam Mom," and some of us should probably feel guilty that the moniker still makes us giggle uncontrollably at our advanced age).

Ahem. Back to the book. Will Stanton turns 11 and all hell breaks loose as he discovers he is the last of the Old Ones, who must ever fight against the Dark - which is rising, don'tchaknow. And then... he goes on a journey? And then something something the Hunt with Whassisname who lives in a tree until you blow the horn? And then the dark gets chased away, which should be a big win but all I can muster is a big

sigh.

My real problem with this book stems from something Alice pointed out: that the Dark can do things like... startle you at the top of the stairs so you fall down and break your leg, but it can't harm you directly. Which leads to roughly zero drama or tension.

And while zero drama or tension is what I strive for in my life outside the pages of a book (AHHHAHHAHA my family is huge, Spanish, and certifiably crazy, so good luck with that), within the pages of a book I definitely like a little stress. So I can see why this is a classic, but I did not dig it very much.

6.5 out of 11 rising... darks....

The Perks Of Being A Wallflower - Stephen Chbosky

I think I was slightly too old for this book when it came out, so I missed it entirely.

That sentence probably encompasses most of the young adult section of the library, actually, so I should just stop typing it (fat chance).

But anyway. The book has finally (?) turned into a movie, and since I like Emma Watson I decided that I will probably watch it - but obviously not before I read the book, because that's just how you do in Book Blog Land.

You know.

The problem with being too old for a book isn't that I'm actually too old. I like YA fiction a lot. It's that I have a hard time getting into the headspace of a teenager without also being in the headspace of being a former high school English teacher; they're kind of inextricably linked at this point. [As a side note, I thoroughly enjoyed teaching English. It was hard and frustrating, but it was also surprising and hilarious every day, and I was really, really good at it. I wish teachers were paid appropriately so I could have actually supported myself in that job without needing a secondary income (i.e., a spouse). But that's a whole 'nother issue.]

Anyway, all that to say that I kind of want to sit the characters down and say, "this is not all there is. I know it's important and scary and very, very big right now. But it's not all there is." Except that they are teenagers which means they will look at me with that perfectly blank teenaged stare and think to themselves, "you don't know what it's like to be me. MY LIFE IS DIFFERENT!"

Oh yes, I remember being 16, and it. was. awful.

But this book was not! Especially if you happen to be 16 and need to feel all the feels.

7 out of 11 clandestine underage beers.

Over Sea, Under Stone by Susan Cooper

Apparently this is a Very Popular Children's Series? I don't know, I missed it somehow. Although I do have a vague memory of someone giving me a copy of The Dark is Rising when I was young and thinking it had a scary title and cover so I never read it. Possibly also because it says "Book 2" on the cover and we all know how I feel about jumping into things in the middle.

The Dark is Rising sequence falls into the category of YA extremely popular in the early-middle 20th century in which a group of children - usually brothers and sisters - goes on a Quest for Whatever Reason. Which can be done very well (I'm looking at you, Pevinsie and Alden children!), but it's tricky. The kids can't be too smart, the parents/guardians can't be too involved [orphans are useful here (looks at Alden children again)], and there should be one or more of the following:

- An Uncle, either big and brash and mysterious or scholarly. Possibly a Great-Uncle; unrelated is acceptable.
- A map or mystery of some sort
- A beautiful girl/woman who turns out to be evil
- An undiscovered country/part of town/etc.

So far, Cooper is 4/4. Also, you know how we (meaning I, of course) about "where are the parents/guardians? Who's watching these kids?!?" Well, props to Cooper again, because someone actually DOES care where the children are and tells them not to do the stupid, reckless things that children in YA novels usually do.

"Today my job is relevant!"

So good on ya, Susan Copoer. Way to keep the adults in the game, but not let them overpower the story. And extra points for the Arthurian business - I dig it.

And now, on to book 2 for The Estella Society's Top 100 Children's Book RAL, which I am joining impossibly late due to my gold-medal performance in the Procrastination Olympics.

7.5 of 11 Mysterious Uncles

Code Name: Verity - Elizabeth Wein

One of the reasons I don't tend to read mysteries is that I like to talk about plot, and it's difficult to do so when one-third of a book is about "Lo, a mystery!" and the other two-thirds are about "Let's solve this (preferably with witty banter and possible sexytimes, a la Castle and Bones)!" And then one has to dance around the plot, not Giving It All Away, much like a great aunt warning you against sexytimes of your own while "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow" plays sadly in the background.

And while this book is not a mystery, it presents many of the same discussion difficulties that a mystery might.


This book is...

I want to talk about...

And then there's this other thing...


Well, there is ONE thing I want to talk about. This book is set in the 1940s in England (mostly), and it's written in the first-person, which means that the characters should speak as if they were in that time period. And if I am not very much mistaken - which I am not - the convention of speaking forcefully being expressed in ALL CAPS, shouty-internet style, is fairly recent.

I know that complaining about all-caps usage by an author makes me a huge hypocrite. Trust me, I'm aware.

But it bugged me.

Especially because I tend to read sentences in all caps in a very specific type of shouty style - probably due to the book blogging friends I hang out with - which looks very much like this:

"...SO EMBARRASSING..." (p.1)

BUT aside from that, this is a Very Good Book and you should all read it and if I go on much longer I will Give It All Away, which as we've all learned will lead only to singing sad doo-wop tunes in the shower.

The best accolade for this book I can give is this: I think Connie Willis, High Dame of Alternative WWII History, would like it.


9 of 11 Muppet Flails, Aviatrixes!

The Moonstone Part 4 - Cry Because It's Over!

HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS.

I dunno how Alice decided to break up the readings for this thing, but way to go on that one, lady.

H'okay, so. When last we met - which for me was not very long ago so I won't blame you if you missed my Part 3 post - Franklin had walked out of a fight with Rachel and said he "saw her and heard her no more," and we were all, OMG NOOOOOO!!! Because Godfrey turned out to be a money-grubbing douchenozzle and Rachel deserves someone nice even if she's not Marian.

So Ezra Jennings* comes back into the story with his piebald hair (?!?) and Mysterious Past and turns out to be quite a decent fellow, thankyouverymuch. Admit it - you suspected he somehow was behind all this for a hot second. Those piebald gipsy people are not to be trusted! But mostly because they try to save people from fevers by dosing them with brandy, quinine, and ammonia. How did we ever survive as a species before modern medicine, I ask you? And he has anecdotal evidence that Franklin's actions on Rachel's birthday night are due to opium because, you see, HE takes opium (it's totally medicinal!) so he would know. And he's writing a thingy on how the brain works, which must have sounded like  Fuck yea, SCIENCE!!! to the Victorians but at which I must admit I sniggered quite a lot.

But because this is fiction, they are able to recreate the moment and Franklin does indeed steal a bauble from the dresser and Rachel watches because she'll do anything - anything! - to clear his name, but after re-creating the scene up to the taking of the diamond, Franklin falls asleep on the couch.

So much for THAT theory. It is worth pointing out here that Betteredge has decided he dislikes Ezra Jennings - who has refused to accept the sovereignty of Robinson Crusoe - and so pesters him hilariously throughout. Oh, Betteredge.; I suspect that you and Miss Clack would have had great fun trading quotations from your respective holy books at one another, had you ever met.

But wait! All is not lost! The diamond is still in the bank - and once again the Victorians get the drop on us because we don't really understand pawning things to banks in this day-and-age or how that works, and Wilkie is of very little help explaining this so it must have been one of those Things that Everyone Understands kind of like parliamentary procedure or Bubble Tape gum. Sgt. Cuff has come back from his roses and written the name of the guy he now thinks did the deed on an envelope and given it to Franklin, who isn't supposed to open it until Franklin figures it out himself. Way to be a dick, Cuff.

So they go to the bank and watch the handoff of the diamond but everyone sees something different and they end up in the room of an inn where there is a dark-complected sailor dead in the bed and when his true identity was revealed this is what I said:

And then he turned out to be even MORE of a dickbag than we previously thought - what with the trying to marry people for their money and whatnot - because he was keeping a woman out in the country and giving her jewels and a house all in her name with the money from some kid's trust fund.

So, it was Godfrey all along, and he'd have gotten away with it if it hadn't been for those damn kids Indians! Which in retrospect, I could have picked up on had I not been so excited by the myriad possibilities that Wilkie put before me; it became clearer that Godfrey needed money once he and Rachel broke up. BUT that is the mark of a great writer! Hiding things in plain sight! Distraction and obfuscation! Lady Verinder and Betteredge foreverrrrrr!


Damn, that was a good book. Wilkie Collins, I bow to you.

This book gets 11 of 11 Moonstones**



*NOT the ugliest name in all history. Oh Wilkie, have you forgotten SIR PERCIVAL GLYDE?!?
**Not actual moonstones. And no, that joke doesn't get old.

The Moonstone, Part 3 - Paging Mr. Mesmer?

Well THAT was a surprise!

Let me back up a bit. First, Miss Clack grew decidedly more distasteful after last week's delightful Clack Tracts and the tossing-into-hansom-cabs thereof. She didn't attend Lady Verinder's funeral because she disapproved of the rector giving the service, then scorns Rachel for reaching out to her as a cousin and as a friend because Rachel should have been turning to God in her time of trouble.

I did chortle that Clack left Rachel - or will leave Rachel - one of those ridiculous books in her will.

And let's talk about Rachel, SHALL WE? Because somewhere between saying "yes" to Godforsaken Godfrey and coming back into the picture, girl grew a spine. It's a good look on her!

But again, I skip ahead. So the lawyer (Mr. Bruff? I'm on a train and my book is in my bag waaaay over therrrrrre and I am lazy!) has a narrative that basically says he took care of Rachel and Clack was annoying. Then Franklin comes back in - this time as a narrator - and he goes to Rachel's house and sees Betteredge who takes him to Limping Lucy, who despises Franklin because who should have had Rosanna Spearman's love? I think we all know!But Rosanna's letter leads Franklin to the box in the Shifting Sands - which, lest we forget, never gives up its secrets *except this one so maybe JUST ONE MORE because true love can never die LucyandRosanna4Ever* and the nightgown is there and it's FRANKLIN'S.

Here is where modern audiences are - for once - more shocked than Victorian ones, I think. Because what man wears a nightgown? Even drag queens probably wear shorts-and-shirts or at least a sweet Vicky's Secret sleeper to bed nowadays.

I hate that he looks better in this than I ever will. 

So hum. Franklin's nightgown, and Rosanna's secret is out and she is therefore absolved of any lingering guilt.

And then Rachel spills HER beans and reveals that it was Franklin the WHOLE TIME.

And ok, here's where we delve a little into the first time I read Wilkie, which was for a senior-level Brit Lit seminar in college. Our be-foreheaded patron author was, apparently, *way* into mesmerism. It shows up briefly in The Woman in White in the relationship between the fabulous FOSCO and his wife, although the word itself is never used. And here again in The Moonstone (no actual moonstones) we have a character acting completely out of character and to a higher degree even than Madame FOSCO ever did.

I'm not 100% sure about this, ladies, but I'm pretty sure that our dear Franklin wasn't acting under his own steam.

The Moonstone, Part 2 - In Which Someone Steals... The Show

When last we met, I was preeeeetty sure that it was Lady Verinder who threw the Moonstone into the Shifting Sands and thus was the Cause of All This Hubub.

There be spoilers in these waters, me hearties.

For a few pages of part deux, I really thought there would be so much plot and plotting that I wouldn't regret having left all my little tabs and mechanical pencil at home while I gallivanted off to Canada to meet the wonderful Rebekah Joy Plett and Bree Ogden and spend the weekend chortling mightily over the naughty bits in ARC romance novels. Who would have known that the reverse cowgirl was so funny? (Anyone who's tried it, is who. If I wanted to feel like I was going to the gym, I would just go to the damn gym. Moving on!)

So I ended up pulling all my tabs from part 1 and re-using them in part 2, but then I didn't have enough tabs, so I'mma miss some stuff in here.

Let's talk briefly about Rosanna Spearman. Remember how in the beginning she was all, "I feel I shall meet my doom here, and yet it draws me," like some emo kid with a guitar he tries to get people to call by the emo name he's given it? And you want to be all,

Steampunk is ahead of you!

It never works. She offed herself in the Shifting Sand as expected, which resulted in a triumphant "I KNEW IT!" on Twitter. Foreshadowing has to play out or it's not foreshadowing.

Speaking of foreshadowing, what the HELL, Wilkie? Betteredge and Lady Verinder have this super-touching moment where he kisses her hand and then she leaves and I'm all,

But Wilkie doesn't listen to me, so the narrative leaves Betteredge and moves to London, but not before Betteredge says,"don't believe Miss Clack if she talks shit about me," whereupon we know two things for sure: 1) Miss Clack will be a narrator, and 2) she will probably be HILARIOUS.

And she IS. She scatters religious tracts titled things like, "Satan under the Tea Table"and "A Word with you on your Cap-Ribbons," like they're Smarties (cap-ribbons being notoriously sexy in Victorian times, I don't know if you knew).

Loose cap ribbons are the equivalent of loose morals! Mrowr.

And she brings religious books to her sick aunt and hides them about the house, and she thinks Rachel is the snootiest snoot ever, which makes me love her even though I have a moralizing relative like Miss Clack and he is INSUFFERABLE IRL.

The proposal scene between Rachel and Godfrey is completely stolen by Miss Clack, who is hiding behind the curtains and has decided to "meet her martyrdom like a primitive Christian" by arranging the curtains so she can both see and hear what's going on in the room. And then when Rachel accepts him - which I begin to believe is no more than Godfrey deserves, the prig - they start making out (as is only proper, just being affianced), and Miss Clack is SO SHOCKED that she doesn't know whether to stop her ears or close her eyes first, so she freezes and conveniently does neither.

"I attribute my still being able to hold the curtain in the right position for looking and listening, entirely to suppressed hysterics. In suppressed hysterics, it is admitted, even by the doctors, that one must hold something." (p. 237)

I sniggered into my novel on the plane and the lady next to me probably thought I was mental.

As amusing as Miss Clack is, this is where I'm pretty sure Wilkie's views on religion - or at least the smugly religious - come out. We had a bit of it in The Woman in White with the Very Religious Housekeeper who was completely duped by Fosco, in part because of her religion. And now we have Miss Clack, whose religious zeal is absurd and through which she allows herself to behave hypocritically.

And then, Lady Verinder dies of heart disease before Rachel can tell her she (Rachel) is engaged, but more importantly before she can confess her undying love for Betteredge and get him to FLY to her side and speak the words they've both been longing to hear.

You know what, Wilkie?

But not really because I need to know what happens.

The Moonstone, Part I - Are You Hooked Yet?

This book is LOLARIOUS, you guys. Of course, since Reading the Bricks is my brand new baby blog, everyone here is likely already aware of this fact; I just have to reiterate because hello, Gabriel Betteredge, my new second favorite cantankerous old man narrator. (Don't fret, Frederick Fairlie; you will always be first in my heart. What have you do to with bosoms?)

But before we get into that, I'm going to discuss Collins's own introductions, which it has come to my attention may not be in some of your editions. 

The intro to the first edition is fine author-y stuff; "I hope you like this book, I worked hard, blahblah." But the Introduction to Later Editions is simply the stuff of hilarious legend: 

When this work was still in course of periodical publication in England and in the United States, and when not more than 1/3 of it was completed, the bitterest affliction of my life and the severest illness from which I have ever suffered fell on me together.
[...]
Of the physical sacrifice which the effort cost me I shall say nothing.
[...]
I doubt if I should have lived to write another book, if the responsibility of the weekly publication of this story had not forced me to rally my sinking energies of body and mind - to dry my useless tears, and to conquer my merciless pains.

In other words,

I'll be here taking opiates and writing my book.

So, mes amis, let us to the prologue!

Given Alice's disappointment (and mine too, the first time through) that The Woman in White contained no actual ghosts, I find it highly hilarious that The Moonstone contains no actual moonstones. It's a diamond.

You win again, Collins.

And then we get to the story, which Betteredge has to start over not once, not twice, but three times because he can't stop talking about himself and Robinson Crusoe (tedious book...) and apologizing for how boring it is to read about old men sitting in beehive chairs, when really I'd like to know what on earth is a beehive chair? It sounds terrifying.

I was planning to do a synopsis-type post, but as I'm checking what I've underlined in my book it's not so much plot as it is Wilkie just being a genius writer and creator of characters. Observe:

Here follows the substance of what I said, written out entirely for your benefit. [...] Lord! haven't I seen you with the greatest authors in your hands, and don't I know how ready your attention is to wander when it's a book that asks for it, instead of a person? (33)

Way to be modest, Wilkie.

Let's talk about characters!

There's Franklin Blake, aka Suitor #1, who Betteredge complains "had promised to be tall, and had not kept that promise," - way to disappoint, Blake. Plus he was brought up on the continent and so had a wild French/Italian/German side to his character as well as a steady English side, and who knows when any will be uppermost? This is mysterious!

There's Godfrey, Suitor #2, who occupies his spare time with the rights of women [furthering the Internet's suspicion that Collins was a closet feminist (at least on paper)], but then leaves town after the diamond Moonstone is lost.

And then there's Rachel. Oooohhhhh, Rachel. You couldn't pay me any dollars at all to be 18 again. First she gets a jewel worth roughly 1.4 million dollars, then she leaves it in a cabinet and LO! It is gone! And then she flounces and shuts herself in her bedroom and refuses to let anyone talk to her including the people investigating the loss of her diamond, which is not at all suspicious behavior.

Her mother is Lady Verinder, who some have suspected of being a little - maybe a lottle - in love with Betteredge, who is clearly requiting as much as his old, sexual harrass-y heart is able. (It's not immoral, it's habit!!) Awwwww.

There's Superintendent Seegrave, who is obviously the character Collins allowed his good buddy Boz to name. He's bumbling and puts all the servants' backs up and offends the wimminz - especially Betteredge's daughter Penelope, which is awesome because Betteredge gets all offended on her behalf and talks smack about him from then on. Penelope, by the way, is the person whose diary we are consulting as to dates for this trip down Gabriel's memory lane. We like her.

And then there's Cuff, the proto-Sherlock. He sees clues in paint smudges, loves roses because they are the opposite of detectiving, and is generally one bad mofo.

The great Cuff, on his side, looked at Superintendent Seegrave in that quietly expecting way which I have already noticed. I can't affirm that he was on the watch for his brother-officer's speedy appearance in the character of an Ass - I can only say that I strongly suspected it. (101)

I laughed out loud at that one while I was reading on my phone at work. Well done, Collins.

So far, everyone except Seegrave is a suspect, except what if it's him? That would be the reddest of red herrings, TEAM SEEGRAVE 4 EVAH!

The obvious choice here is Rosanna the Former Thief-turned-Housemaid, who has a hunched shoulder, which is iiiiiinteresting because of the outer-deformity-reflects-inner-deformity thing that 19th c. writers used so often (see: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, among others). I get the sense that Collins will be turning that little trope on its ear, otherwise whyfore the next 250 pages? Cuff would have pinned it on her in two shakes. But there IS something weird going on between her and Blake.

So many clues! Here is what I think: Lady Verinder pitched the moonstone into the quicksand to protect Rachel. But then why not just send it to Amsterdam and get it cut into smaller gems and thus (as we learn from the uncle's will) render the mystical value of the thing moot?

I spent most of these chapters feeling like one of those women who talks to the screen during horror movies:
Oh girl, don't hang out alone by the quicksand!
Oh, Lady, don't let her have that CURSED JEWEL that people will try to KILL HER FOR!
OH GURL, don't leave your GIANT KILLER DIAMOND in the house!

and also wanting to slap Rachel, who is only like Marian MAAARIAAAAANNNNNN! in that they are both female.

(Speaking of which, today I am shipping Marian and Cuff.)

And yes, Alice, I am in for a little Sarah Waters after this. maybe we can get her to comment on whether she's ever read any Wilkie, and whether she is Team Mariaaaaaannnnn or Team Limp-Wrist Laura. I am not biased either way, obvs.

Fire it Up: The Moonstone Read-a-long

Once there was an author with a forehead of truly prodigious proportions.

Wilkie Collins 1824-1889

In true Victorian style, his forehead - that phrenological seat of all that is intellectual - foretold (HEH) his fate and he became not only a writer, but BFFs with that paragon of 19th century British literature, Charles Dickens. I've mentioned before elsewhere that Boz and Wilkie were best buds (I approve of alliteration), so I won't go into that here.

So. The Moonstone. I know next-to-nothing about this book except that it was written after The Woman in White, which I enjoyed immensely, that it's widely considered the first detective novel and some people consider it the best detective novel, to which I say, does The Moonstone have THIS?

I thought not.

However, as Alice was kind enough to mention, it does have a reference to the Siege of Seringapatam, which is a thing no one in these modern times of ours has ever heard of, but they should because it involved the hilariously-named Kingdom of Mysore. The potential puns are plentiful!

If you'd like to join this read-a-long, you can find information and a linkie here! Hop to it, lieblings! Collins and his forehead await to show the Kids These Days how shit is WROTE.