Lindsay

There has been a lot of criticism of this book, and the fact that it is penned by a Western male author. Whether Golden's interpretation of geisha life in early 1900s Japan is accurate, I cannot say; but, he certainly had me convinced that these were real memories recalled in the voice of Chiyo/Sayuri.

The first few chapters were very sad, in a heavy, despairing sort of way; towards the end of the book, the sadness evolved into a bitter, regretful sorrow. The overall feel of this tale was romantic and remorseful, highlighted by many beautiful metaphors.

I have no doubt that much of Golden's writing is, as he says, the result of many hours of research, however, I am still interested to read an “insider's” view of the geisha lifestyle. Mineko Iwasaki, who it has been alleged, is the basis of Golden's novel, has written her autobiography which disputes many “facts” that Golden included; her book is published as “Geisha, a Life” (US title) or “Geisha of Gion” (UK title).

To explain my one-star rating, allow me to quote from the book:

“She had spent far too much time researching and racking her brains to find some logical reason for a totally illogical experience. She could chalk those dreams of Cira up to one of life's mysteries and move on with reality. Yes, that was sensible.” (Johansen, 366).

Dialogue: unnatural
Characters: flat
Plot: far-fetched
Verdict: boring

Whereas in other Tana French books, I felt like I was experiencing the story as it unfolded, in her fourth book, I felt like I was being read the police report by the main character, and being subject to his musings, interjections and personal commentary along the way. Despite the insights, it was rather dry. As others have pointed out, it also requires a suspension of disbelief.

Unlike some of the other books on this topic that I have attempted to get into, this book was written in a very accessible way. The meal plan is laid out for you, and quite straightforward, and the recipes provided also seemed quite reasonable – it didn't feel like I needed to get a lot of specialty items to try any of them.

I is love this book.

Roald Dahl's clever tale is written in a winning combination of “langwitches”: common English and giant-speak. The frequency of nonsensical words only elevates the level of amusement, and the entertainingly expressive nature of the BFG makes this a choice book to read aloud. “The BFG” is better than “The Twits” and a wonderful introduction to Dahl's artful storytelling.

I was disappointed by this book, and didn't find the revamped fairy tales very enjoyable. The tales that followed closely their better known counterparts were acceptable, but brought nothing new to the table.

Spoiler
Worth Reading:
“Instructions” by Neil Gaiman - Props to Gaiman for this creative poem. It was a light-hearted read.
“The Seven Stage a Comeback” by Gregory Maguire - Perhaps the most ambitious of them all. Another poetic endeavour that is worth a look.
“Cinder Elephant” by Jane Yolen - “Moral: If you love a waist, you waste a love”
“The Kingdom of Melting Glances” by Katherine Vaz - This came from a story I hadn't heard before; I enjoyed it.
“Hansel's Eyes” by Garth Nix - Nix doesn't disappoint.

These Were Okay...
“Falada: The Goose Girl's Horse” by Nancy Farmer
“A Wolf at the Door” by Tanith Lee - A lion in wolf's clothing. The story was alright, but not terribly memorable.

There's Nothing New Here...
“The Months of Manhattan” by Delia Sherman
“Swans” by Kelly Link - A retread.
“The Twelve Dancing Princesses” by Patricia A. McKillip

Don't Bother
“Mrs Big: ‘Jack and the Beanstalk' Retold” by Michael Cadnum
“Ali Baba and the Forty Aliens” by Janeen Webb
“Becoming Charise” by Kathe Koja - This “Ugly Duckling” tale felt incomplete. Good moral, but I completely missed the fairy tale aspect.

Rebecca Lickiss' Never After has such potential, but is bogged down by tedious characters and poor writing. The premise is promising: a hodge-podge of fairytales come together to create a fanciful, new story. Unfortunately, it never comes to fruition. The characters are unlikable and flat; the plot feels forced, and the entire tale is quite predictable, with no reward for the reader who sticks it out from “Once upon a time” to “happily ever after”.

The front cover proclaims: “Lickiss has a breezy, inventive style.” This is true if “breezy” is a synonym for “awkward”, and “inventive” is a euphemism for the atrocious sentence fragments that are cobbled together to make this book.

I can appreciate what Lickiss is trying to do, but the end result leaves a lot to be desired. There is little adventure, and no laughter. In a word: boring.

Despite the fact that Taran was irritating at times, with his “woe is me” attitude, I suppose it wouldn't have been a very good “coming of age” story without a little youthful stupidity.

SpoilerI have two quibbles with this book: One, I find it rather convenient that Morda's spells dissipate with his death. For all Taran knew, when Morda was slain, the spells might have remained in place forever. Two, I also take issue with the fact that the ladies of the Marshes of Morva never collect on their bargain with Taran - in this book or the next. (Sidebar: is there some significance of the similarity in names, “Morva” and “Morda”? I thought it odd.)

The redeeming factor of this book was the Craddoc storyline. SpoilerIt was truly Taran's comeuppance, and his turning point, I thought.

Ultimately, though, this was just a stepping stone to the final battle in the fifth and last book.

The same things that either thrilled or annoyed you in Under One Roof and Stuck With You will come up again in Below Zero because it feels like they are all the same book, with the same underdeveloped stock characters.

Awkward, petite blonde/brunette/redhead American student or recent grad in the science and technology field? Check. Large blond/brunette Viking-like man of few words but who knows just how to make his love interest weak at the knees? Check. Lightning fast feelings of undying love, and then self-made obstacles that keep the characters apart until a revelation at the end (NON-SPOILER: It was all just a misunderstanding). Check, check, check.

As others have said, it seems that so far, Hazelwood only knows how to write one type of book... instead of three complementary novellas, it felt like I read the same story three times, just dressed up a little differently.

For me, I liked each book a fraction of a star more than the one preceding it; all were at least 1.5 stars below what I rated Hazelwood's full book, The Love Hypothesis.

Meltzer's writing reminds me of a Hallmark movie (ironic?). If you can get past some of the cheesiness, it can give you nice feelings.

This one was a bit of a stretch for me. The motivations of the characters seemed trivial and contrived (summer camp rivalries from more than a decade ago, desperately needing a Matzah Ball ticket for inspiration, etc). 

Also, I don't know when the phrase became “crashing symbols” (Chapter 10) but for some reason I doubt that would be as loud as “crashing cymbals”!

Zusak, 2005, 174-5:“A SMALL BUT NOTEWORTHY NOTEI've seen so many young menover the years who think they'rerunning at other young men.They are not.They're running at me.”

-Death


Zusak, 2005, 376:“The Germans in basements were pitiable, surely, but at least they had a chance. That basement was not a washroom. They were not sent there for a shower. For those people, life was still achievable.”


One remarkable thing that Zusak achieves, is the consistency of voice and character: Liesel, Rudy, Hans, Rosa, Max, Death.

Death was especially well done - an observer who remains removed from humanity and life, yet perhaps understands it better than most.

I am the Messenger is the epitome of metafiction – a story that recognizes itself as a story – and yet it fails spectacularly to make the kind of impact that good metafiction is apt to make. Zusak takes the premise of metafiction to a literal level. Instead of striving to immerse his readers in the world he has created, his big reveal is Spoilerto tell his audience in no uncertain terms that they are reading a book he has written – one that has been premeditated, planned, plotted, and carried out as he (the author) deemed fit.

Everything that occurs happens because Zusak wants or needs it to happen for the story to unfold in a particular way. For example, Marv's behaviour in the bank at the beginning of the novel makes little sense once we know Marv's secret: Spoilerwould he really risk his life by irritating a robber (albeit, a hapless one), when his son or daughter is the whole reason for his existence? I realize that the car becomes a major plot point for Marv, but it is irksome that Zusak uses the bank robbery as a means to introduce the vehicle and then uses the vehicle as a plot device.

In all fairness, it's Zusak's prerogative to make the characters and the plot do as he wishes – it just bothers me to see events unfold that don't necessarily make sense to the overall arc of the story, and then have Zusak give himself an “out” because he is the author, as he so kindly reminds us. I actually did like some of the messages and some of the secondary characters; but the implied inevitability of each of the events that took place made the meanings of these messages less significant. The entire book seems contrived, which may or may not be the point, but it also just makes this reader wonder what the purpose of reading the book is. If Zusak means to inspire his readers by reminding them that they are not characters, but real live people with free will, he only makes them regret their reading choices.

Points to Zusak for his creativity; demerits for falling short. Go read The Book Thief instead; there, Zusak's narrative and creative risks pay off in a big way.

A well-written first-person account of what it was like for a young girl to survive the Holocaust, detailing experiences that a textbook just glosses over.

Bitton-Jackson's I Have Lived a Thousand Years should be in every classroom, right alongside The Diary of Anne Frank. An important book that is accessible to audiences of all ages.