Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Books

The Children of Men by P. D. James: B-

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From the back cover:
The human race faces extinction. It is annihilation brought not by disease or nuclear war, not by crashing meteorites or colliding stars. Men and women have ceased, simply, to procreate. In 1994, sperm counts hit zero; pediatrics wards were rapidly and permanently depleted. Overnight, it seemed, the human race had lost its power to breed.

Now, 25 years later, a pervasive lethargy blankets the world. In Britain, one man has set himself up as “Warden,” and as his power grows, morality and hope deteriorate. The Warden’s cousin, the insular and aloof Theo Faron, is shocked out of his apathy when he is approached by a group of dissidents who call themselves The Five Fishes.

Amused and irritated by these amateurish rebels, Faron is drawn into their fragile circle in spite of himself. What they offer him could be the only future he’s got.

Review:
The Children of Men starts off promisingly. Theo (not at all Clive Owen-y) isn’t a particularly likeable protagonist, but he’s interesting enough in his cold detachment. Book One relates to his contact with the dissidents, his taking notice of what’s been going on around him, and his unsuccessful attempt to compel the Warden to do something about their concerns.

The implications of a world without children are chillingly explored—no schools, no playgrounds, children existing only as images and voices on recorded media. After humanity dies out, the buildings will sit idle until reclaimed by nature, and no one will ever again read the books. All of the world-building was excellent and thought-provoking.

Book Two begins six months later. The group has been discovered and seeks Theo’s help once again. The novel quickly degenerates into a description of their flight to evade capture. An interminable series of cars and concealing copses ensues. By the time the book dragged itself to a disappointing (but possibly ominous) conclusion, my primary feeling was relief.

I’ve also got a non-plot-related complaint. I’m definitely a fan of P. D. James’ writing style, but I didn’t care for the alternating first and third person narration she employed here. My guess is that this was done because Theo eventually stops writing in his journal and the rest of the story needs to be told, but it certainly doesn’t add anything to the experience.

Ultimately, the book is decent reading, if only for the ideas presented. I plan to see the movie at some point, since I suspect they culled the good bits and eschewed the monotonous ones.

What the Dead Know by Laura Lippman: B

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From the back cover:
Thirty years ago two sisters disappeared from a shopping mall. Their bodies were never found and those familiar with the case have always been tortured by these questions: How do you kidnap two girls? Who—or what—could have lured the two sisters away from a busy mall on a Saturday afternoon without leaving behind a single clue or witness?

Now a clearly disoriented woman involved in a rush-hour hit-and-run claims to be the younger of the long-gone Bethany sisters. But her involuntary admission and subsequent attempt to stonewall investigators only deepens the mystery. Where has she been, why has she waited so long to come forward?

In a story that moves back and forth across the decades, there is only one person who dares to be skeptical of a woman who wants to claim the identity of one Bethany sister without revealing the fate of the other. Will he be able to discover the truth?

Review:
On a mystery level, this book succeeds. Initially one believes in the claims of the disoriented woman, but as the story is revealed, and subsequent details come to light, doubt creeps in. The story is well-paced, unpredictable, and makes sense, even with the jumping about in time. I found myself taking slightly longer routes home just so I could hear more of it and was not disappointed in the conclusion.

The characters are more of a mixed bag. The Bethany family itself—daughters Heather and Sunny and parents Dave and Miriam—were by far the most defined. Significant time is spent on showing them before the abduction and also on the relationship of the parents afterwards. In some aspects, I was reminded of The Lovely Bones, as it deals similarly with a family coping after the disappearance of a daughter.

The present day cast—the detectives, the social worker, the lawyer—involved with determining the veracity of the woman’s story are more nebulous, some of them downright flat. I sincerely hated the primary detective, Kevin Infante. He’s incredibly crude, profane, and misogynistic.

What the Dead Know is ultimately worth reading. It was never boring, and though I never mustered any particular care for any of the characters, I enjoyed the suspenseful plot. I don’t see myself reading it again or acquiring my own copy, but I’d probably read more by this author.

Princess on the Brink by Meg Cabot: B+

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From the back cover:
At last, Mia is a junior. An upperclassperson. Free of her responsibilities as student body president. So why is it that everything is going so terribly wrong? What is she doing in Intro to Creative Writing? When she has made it through Algebra and Geometry, why must she be faced with Precalculus? And for the love of all that is Genovian, why has Lilly nominated her for school prez again? All this is nothing compared to the news Michael springs on her, however. On top of all the mathematical strife, her beloved boyfriend is leaving for Japan for a year. Precalc has nothing on preparing for the worst separation ever!

Turns out there is one way she might convince Michael to stay. But will she? Or won’t she? No matter what, Mia seems headed for disaster.

Review:
Mia and Michael had to deal with a very interesting issue that I haven’t previously seen addressed in YA fiction: What happens when you find out that someone you’ve assumed shares the same beliefs as you actually doesn’t? Can you be understanding or will you be judgmental?

Neither Michael nor Mia manages to handle this well. Mia freaks when she learns Michael has given the “precious gift” of his virginity to a girl he didn’t love, and Michael fails to understand why this bothers her so much. This results in Mia breaking up with him, even though she doesn’t want to.

Although often stupid or misguided, Mia’s actions and reactions are believable from a sixteen-year-old girl, and I was at least capable of empathizing with her a lot of the time. Michael is finally revealed to have some “typical boy” characteristics, which makes him a lot more realistic. Sex is discussed responsibly and with a variety of viewpoints.

Instead of wrapping up tidily as I expected, things with Michael are unresolved by the novel’s end. I wish Cabot would’ve passed on Mia’s “accidental” smooch of J. P., however, as it just adds unnecessary angst and complication to what is already an important moment in Mia and Michael’s relationship. The resulting fallout with Lilly and Mia’s incredible stupidity in taking J.P. up on what is clearly a date makes for a very irritating ending.

Valentine Princess by Meg Cabot: B

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From the inside flap:
Valentine’s Day means flowers, chocolates, and all-out romance.

That is, it usually means those things. But when you’re Princess Mia, nothing happens the way it’s supposed to. For one thing, Grandmere seems determined to prove that boy (or Michael, as he is commonly known) isn’t the right one for the crown princess of Genovia. And Mia isn’t having much luck proving otherwise, since Michael has a history of being decidedly against any kind of exploitative commercialization (Valentine’s Day, as it is commonly known).

Boris can declare his love openly to Lilly, and even Kenny comes through with a paltry Whitman’s Sampler. So why can’t Michael give in to Cupid and tell Mia he loves her—preferably with something wrapped in red or pink and accompanied by roses—in time to prove he’s Mia’s true prince?

Review:
Well, with a book this short and frivolous, one doesn’t have very high expectations. Suffice it to say that I wasn’t disappointed by this little book but neither was I blown away.

Good stuff: It made me giggle a few times and marks the first time I have ever seen the word ‘snerk’ appear in print.

Not so good stuff: This takes place in the past (Mia found an old journal), so it’s supposed to be amusing when Grandmere’s astrology buddy predicts unlikely celebrity couples that Mia scoffs at (Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes), but it isn’t.

Random stuff: I had to look up a slang term that I was unfamiliar with (“blow-out,” a type of hairdo). It made me feel kinda old. There’s also confusion about the numbering of this book in the series. Cabot’s site calls it 7.75, but the series listing in the front of the book calls it 4.25. Based on the material within, and all the stuff that’s supposed to foreshadow what ultimately happens, I think reading it after book 7 would make the most sense.

Reunion by Meg Cabot: B+

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From the back cover:
Suze Simon, a teenaged mediator who guides ghosts to the afterlife, is having a great time with her best friend Gina from New York. That is until four ghosts, the “RLS Angels,” show up looking for revenge. The angry spirits died in a car accident and they blame Michael Meducci, a nerdy boy with a crush on Suze.

Suze starts spending time with Michael to protect him. After all, she’s one of the few people who can see the ghosts. And Michael isn’t too bad—under those glasses he is even somewhat of a hottie. But there’s something strange about the accident that took the Angels’ lives. Is it possible they are rightfully seeking revenge on Michael? Could he be their killer?

Review:
This was definitely an improvement over Ninth Key. And, interestingly, Suze seems to’ve remembered that boy who asked her out in Shadowland. Maybe somebody else busted Cabot over that error.

The plot in Reunion is pretty similar to the first book, though it wasn’t bad. The most irksome thing was the unrealistic portrayal of popular kids. I just really have a hard time believing that they would really say some of the stuff said here.

In the positive category, Suze’s character also seems back on track, as she is less focused on boys and more on being snarky and protecting a classmate from vengeful ghosts. There were a few moments when she put herself in the path of danger and was a bit reckless/ruthless, and while these actions were pretty dumb, they also played up her resemblance to Veronica Mars, which was pretty much missing in the last book.

Ninth Key by Meg Cabot: B

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From the back cover:
Mediator Susannah Simon is a go-between for ghosts and the living. No hand-holder, this teenager is tough on the spirits who need her help. When the ghost of a murdered woman wakes Suze up one night to insist that she deliver a strange message, the 16-year-old just wants to get rid of her. But the ghost won’t give up.

Soon Suze is looking for a wealthy man called Red, who has an aversion to sunlight. When she finally meets him, he keeps staring at her neck, and Suze sees big trouble. Although he’s the father of the hottest boy in her class, he just might be a vampire.

Review:
I didn’t like this as much as Shadowland. Suze wasn’t as amusing and snarky. Instead, she suddenly became obsessed with her lack of a boyfriend and we got a lot more info on the topic of boys and the state of their abs.

As an additional bonus, there was an extremely irritating and stupid continuity error! Suze mentioned a couple times that no boy has ever asked her out. Except one just did in the last book, which took place a mere week before! I think Meg Cabot cranks out too many books to actually remember the specifics of what happened in each one.

The plot was more ambitious this time, and included a couple of twists I didn’t expect. These would’ve been more successful if the outcomes of the twists hadn’t been immediately obvious to me. I also couldn’t help from wanting to superimpose Buffy arcs upon this story, like Suze letting her friends in on the secret, or becoming more serious about her job.

All of these things aside, it was still pretty good and was a quick read. At least I still liked all of the Suze/Jesse interaction. Perhaps this is just a sophomore slump and the others in the series will be better.

Shadowland by Meg Cabot: A

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From the back cover:
Sixteen-year-old Susannah Simon is a mediator who can see and speak with ghosts. As a bridge between the living and the dead, she gets called on to help troubled ghosts take care of unfinished business. Soon after she and her mother move from New York City to sunny California, Suze meets the sexiest boy she’s ever seen. But there are two problems: he’s a ghost, and he’s haunting her room.

Review:
This was YA supernatural fluff and I totally adored it! There isn’t actually much of a plot aside from one particularly hateful ghost wanting revenge on an ex, but it’s fun anyway. Cabot borrows heavily from the premise for Buffy and I suppose I should be annoyed by that, but it reads more like an homage than a rip-off.

The similarities:
* Susannah (a little Buffyish in character, but with the super snark of Veronica Mars—I obviously like her quite a bit!) has a supernatural ability/job that she did not ask for and cannot relinquish.
* This ability has gotten her into some trouble in her old town, and her mom is hopeful that moving to a new place, in the middle of her sophomore year, will be a fresh start.
* There’s an adult staffer at her new high school who knows what she is and can give some advice.
* The popular kids make overtures towards her, but she seems more inclined to hang with the “losers”—specifically one guy and one girl. The guy (quippy, but not as funny as Xander) has a crush on Susannah and is clearly oblivious to the feelings that the other girl (nothing like Willow, alas) has for him.
* Susannah meets a foxy dead guy who has been around for over a century and who helps her out when fighting the aforementioned hateful ghost.

Shadowland reads kind of like a pilot episode. It sets the theme, the mythology, and the characters without delving too deeply into any of those categories. At this point, I sort of expect the series to compare to Buffy’s first season without approaching the impact of the latter half of season two. I would be highly (pleasantly) surprised if Cabot managed to pull off something like that.

The Beatrice Letters by Lemony Snicket: C

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From the back cover:
To: My Kind Editor

Top secret—only for readers deeply interested in the Baudelaire case. How I pity those readers.

With all due respect,
Lemony Snicket

Review:
Cons? Rather pointless and reminds me of the Griffin & Sabine series with its obscure epistolary nature. Pros? Short!

No answers are forthcoming in this series of letters, but we do get some tiny hints as to what occurred after the events of The End. This book could very easily be skipped, and definitely shouldn’t be approached with any expectation of clarity.

The End by Lemony Snicket: B-

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From the back cover:
Dear Reader,

You are presumably looking at the back of this book, or the end of THE END. The end of THE END is the best place to begin THE END, because if you read THE END from the beginning of the beginning of THE END to the end of the end of THE END, you will arrive at the end of the end of your rope.

This book is the last in A Series of Unfortunate Events, and even if you braved the previous twelve volumes, you probably can’t stand such unpleasantries as a fearsome storm, a suspicious beverage, a herd of wild sheep, an enormous bird cage, and a truly haunting secret about the Baudelaire parents.

It has been my solemn occupation to complete the history of the Baudelaire orphans, and at last I am finished. You likely have some other occupation, so if I were you I would drop this book at once, so THE END does not finish you.

With all due respect,
Lemony Snicket

Review:
Unfortunately, I found the final volume of A Series of Unfortunate Events to be somewhat of a disappointment. The first half is dull, and one feels that time that could’ve been used to settle some mysteries has been squandered. A couple of things are finally formally clarified, but a lot is left up in the air or, as the book puts it, in the Great Unknown.

At the same time, though, the point is made in the book that we seldom do get answers to all of our questions, which is certainly true. The orphans conveniently discovering all of the answers in the final volume would be satisfying, but it would also be too simple for a series that has spent the last few volumes dwelling on life’s ambiguities. I’m still annoyed, but perhaps not as much as I would be under other circumstances.

A Dark-Adapted Eye by Barbara Vine: A-

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From the back cover:
Like most families, they had their secrets—and hid them under a genteelly respectable veneer. No onlooker would guess that Vera Hillyard and her beautiful sister, Eden, were locked in a dark and bitter combat over one of those secrets. England in the fifties was not kind to women who erred. They had to fight it out behind closed curtains using every weapon they had. And in this case, it was murder.

Review:
Barbara Vine is a pen name for Ruth Rendell, whose writing I generally like a great deal. A Dark-Adapted Eye is no exception.

The book can’t be called a mystery, really. The culprit is clear from the beginning, as is the method. What is missing is the why. Told from the point of view of the niece of Vera and Eden Hillyard, we are presented with “warts and all” portraits of the women involved, ultimately leading to the circumstances inspiring the drastic act. It’s very well-done and interesting throughout.

One frustrating thing is that the narrator refers to a variety of people by their given names at the beginning of the book without referencing their relationships, so it takes a bit of time to work out who these people are. I ended up drawing a little family tree to help myself.

I also guessed what “the secret” would turn out to be halfway through the book. There was at least one awesome surprise, though. Definitely recommended.

The Nursing Home Murder by Ngaio Marsh: B+

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From the back cover:
Sir John Phillips, the Harley Street surgeon, and his beautiful nurse, Jane Harden, are almost too nervous to operate. The emergency case on the table before them is the Home Secretary—and they both have very good, personal reasons to wish him dead. Within hours he does die, although the operation was a complete success…

Review:
Wow, a Ngaio Marsh book I actually enjoyed! I think the difference is that we’re not seeing events (and Inspector Alleyn) through the eyes of another character this time. Alleyn seems almost like a different character now. He’s still breezy and flip, but seems to be more consistent in mood and personality. Characterization is not the focus of this novel, but this is still a definite improvement.

The structure of the book was very tidy. The first third is devoted to setting up the victim in life, and those with possible motivations against him. The next third consists of Alleyn’s interviews with all the surgeons and nurses present during the procedure. James Saxon, the audiobook’s narrator, does a fabulous job giving each of these people their own voice, both literally and figuratively. I especially love how he handles a blustery doctor prone to going “ha ha ha” at his own comments.

The rest of the book continues and completes the investigation. The only things I didn’t particularly like were the first appearance by a couple of Alleyn’s civilian buddies (they got on my nerves and disrupted the flow of things) and the pantomime reconstruction of the surgical procedure in question (lo, how it dragged).

A final note: apparently a nursing home is something else in the UK. This is not about a place where elderly folks dwell, but rather a small hospital where surgeries are performed. It took a while for me to get the image of the victim as an old dude out of my head.

The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart: C+

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From the back cover:
Are you a gifted child looking for special opportunities?

When this peculiar ad appears in the newspaper, dozens of children enroll to take a series of mysterious, mind-bending tests. (And you, dear reader, can test your wits right alongside them.) But in the end just four very special children will succeed. Their challenge: to go on a secret mission that only the most intelligent and resourceful children could complete. To accomplish it they will have to go undercover at the Learning Institute for the Very Enlightened, where the only rule is that there are no rules.

As our heroes face physical and mental trials beyond their wildest imaginations, they have no choice but to turn to each other for support. But with their newfound friendship at stake, will they be able to pass the most important test of all?

Review:
I’m sure this book will be compared to Harry Potter. It’s not a total rip-off or anything, but there were enough common elements to be distracting.

For example: the main character, Reynie, is eleven. And an orphan. But what could be better than one 11-year-old orphan? Four of them! Well, the kids are not all technically orphans, but their parents are not in the picture, at least. They each have different strengths and traits, which evokes the House system at Hogwarts. Reynie’s a Hufflepuff, Kate’s a Gryffindor, Sticky’s a Ravenclaw… They have a member on their team they don’t entirely trust, and the old, doddering leader dude assures them she’ll be helpful, but doesn’t disclose his reasons for including her, reminding one of Dumbledore and Snape to some degree.

Some children’s fiction authors seem to feel obligated to impart messages unto their readers. Featured in The Mysterious Benedict Society are: friends can become your family, don’t let fear cripple you, there’s no shame in accepting help… and TV and radio are evil (those with an “uncommon love of truth” have no interest in either).

The real problem, however, is that the book is boring. Drudgery would be an apt description for the effort required to finish it. The concept, somewhat reminiscent of one of my favorite Doctor Who episodes (creepy headmaster needs children for a nefarious plan), is a good one but the execution could put one to sleep.

Innocent Traitor by Alison Weir: A-

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From the back cover:
New York Times best-selling author Alison Weir has earned her reputation as the preeminent historian of British royalty. Now with Innocent Traitor, Weir utilizes her vast knowledge and captivating narrative style to craft her first historical novel, choosing Lady Jane Grey—the most sympathetic heroine of Tudor England—as her enthralling subject.

The child of a scheming father and ruthless mother, Jane is born during a time when ambition dictates action. Cousin to Edward VI, Mary I, and Elizabeth I, she is merely a pawn in a political and religious game where one false step means certain demise. But Lady Jane has remarkable qualities that help her withstand the constant pressures of the royal machinery far better than any person could be expected to do.

Weir’s striking novel sweeps readers back through the centuries to witness first-hand one of the most poignant tales from a time of constant scheming and power brokering.

Review:
I’ve known of Alison Weir for some time, and always intended to read her nonfiction works. I’ve also long been interested in Lady Jane. As a result, I’ve been looking forward to reading Innocent Traitor ever since I first heard about it.

I’ve only read two other historical fiction novels concerning British monarchy, but this is better than both of them. It isn’t dry, dense, or esoteric, thanks to many events being seen through young Jane’s inexperienced eyes, and therefore prompting some explanation from those around her. The story is told in a series of alternating first-person narratives, in which everyone candidly reveals their ambitions and motives, and sometimes their appearances, too. This is a little weird, as who refers to themself as “a bull of a man”?

I liked everything about the Tudor court, its intrigue, and the risks involved in holding “heretical” protestant views. Catherine Parr was cooler than I ever expected. Elizabeth I was a “clever minx” (much better than the petulant and fickle characterization she got in Philippa Gregory’s The Virgin’s Lover). Thomas Seymour was fun with his foolish scheming, and John Dudley with his slightly more skilled attempts. Queen Mary was sympathetically rendered, and spoiled Guilford Dudley managed to avoid being romanticized as he was in the film version. I feel as though I have learned as well as been entertained.

But… I had trouble liking Jane. She’s far too perfect, and characters of that sort never endear themselves to me. Weir’s scholarship is respected, so probably it’s factually accurate that Jane possessed the skills mentioned. (She can read and write at a young age, is “musically gifted,” is adept at learning languages, and corresponds with a bunch of old dudes about religious matters, to name a few.) However, Weir also fabricates some scenes wherein Jane saves the day: it is she who manages to find something that helps Parr fend off charges of heresy, she who manages to get overlooked in a room so she may overhear pivotal scheming, etc. She gets better as she gets older, though her self-righteousness rankles. A quote on the back of the book claims that Weir is trying to rehabilitate Jane’s “merely pathetic” reputation, which I get, but I think she went overboard.

Even though Jane is ostensibly the protagonist, the scope is wide enough that, even if one isn’t particularly fond of her, there’s much else to enjoy. If you’ve never tried historical fiction, this is a good place to start. It’s not overly stuffy, and neither does it seem plagued with dubious scholarship. I will definitely be reading any further fiction that Weir produces.

Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay: B

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From the back cover:
Dexter Morgan appears to be the perfect gentleman. He is handsome and polite, and has been in a relationship for nearly a year and a half. Yet appearances can be deceiving, for Dexter is a serial killer who has slain many people. But in this tale, he’s the good guy, for there is one little twist—Dexter only snuffs out other murderers. When another serial killer, with an eerily similar style, starts grabbing headlines, Dexter has a fairly morbid thought. Am I being challenged?

Review:
It should be obvious from the blurb that this book is pretty darned creepy. Not just the fact that there’s a killer on the loose, but that the protagonist is one himself. I was disturbed by my own reaction to the character. On one hand, it was neat that he had insights into the killer’s next moves, and his narrow escape from one of his own escapades made for exciting reading. And then… one is suddenly reminded, by a specific detail about what Dexter has done to someone, or that stray pets were his victims in adolescence, that this guy truly is the monster he proudly claims to be.

The mystery of the book starts out well, but after a certain piece of evidence is discovered, I knew who the culprit would be. The epilogue was predictable, too. A few times the writing tried too hard to be artsy (“And the Need was very strong now, very careful cold coiled creeping crackly cocked and ready, very strong, very much ready now”) but this thankfully wasn’t prevalent.

Another thing that bothered me was that characters use each other’s given names too often in conversations. This trait wasn’t limited to Dexter, who fakes social interaction in an attempt to seem like your typical charming human. I once counted twelve uses of first names (or derivatives thereof) in a single conversation. It’s incredibly distracting. No one I know does this.

I’m not sure yet whether I’m going to read the next book in the series.

The Penultimate Peril by Lemony Snicket: A-

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From the back cover:
Dear Reader,

If this is the first book you found while searching for a book to read next, then the first thing you should know is that this next-to-last book is what you should put down first. Sadly, this book presents the next-to-last chronicle of the lives of the Baudelaire orphans, and it is next-to-first in its supply of misery, despair, and unpleasantness.

Probably the next-to-last things you would like to read about are a harpoon gun, a rooftop sunbathing salon, two mysterious initials, three unidentified triplets, a notorious villain, and an unsavory curry.

Next-to-last things are the first thing to be avoided, and so allow me to recommend that you put this next-to-last book down first, and find something else to read next at last, such as the next-to-last book in another chronicle, or a chronicle containing other next-to-last things, so that this next-to-last book does not become the last book you will read.

With all due respect,
Lemony Snicket

Review:
I found the first half of this book not to be very interesting. About midway through, however, a character appears and spurs a new direction. The last half was great, expounding on the themes of moral ambiguity and less-than-perfect loved ones that were introduced in The Grim Grotto. The Baudelaires are again compelled to act in a manner less noble than they would wish. One thing in particular, though it had been alluded to in an early chapter, completely stunned me.

This book is the darkest yet in the series. Although it doesn’t answer any new questions, there is nonetheless the feeling of wrapping up some things, leaving the way clear for the final resolution in the concluding volume. My enthusiasm had kind of waned for this series (I read the previous volume two months ago), but this installment successfully rejuvenated it.