Reading roundup
So, it's been awhile since I've done a reading roundup, apparently...
40. Brenna Yovanoff, The Replacement -- an interesting and unusual take on the "urban fantasy with fairies" genre I really enjoy. This one's even darker than the Tithe and Wicked Lovely universes, although it does get a sort of happy ending after the darkness. Spoilers!
The concept is quite neat: a town, Gentry (ISWYDT) basically has a symbiotic relationship with supernatural powers who are never stated to be Faeries but clearly are. These powers keep the town prosperous, and in return the town tacitly pays "the tithe to hell" every seven years (or more often, if necessary). Children are stolen away to be sacrificed and sickly changelings are left in their place, who shortly die as well. The book is narrated by Mackie, one such changeling (here called Replacement) who, miraculously, survived to be old enough to go to high school. There are strong elements of horror in the Morrigan's court, dead and disfigured girls walking about, and a general atmosphere of creepiness, which are usually not my preferred cup of tea, but they worked for me here.
One of the things I found most interesting about this book were Mackie's relationships with his family and friends. I like that his parents are actually important, and well-meaning and present though flawed. That his father is a minister, and his mother is a child stolen by Faeries and then returned, and still bears the effects of her ordeal's trauma. And, of course, Mackie's sister, whose love allowed him to survive, who wants to study science, but is gentle and unprepared to be caught in the cruel and monstrous world of Faerie. I also liked Roswell, who clearly knows what's going on with Mackie even though they never talk about it, the elephant in the room. And the twins and Tate were pretty good, too, though I found them less interesting.
I also found it interesting how the book treated Mackie's changeling status essentially as a disability, with an added veil of secretiveness -- the effects of iron on him, both chronic and acute, his parents' protectiveness, which is both justified and chafing, the real limitations of what he could do, dependence on "medicine" later on, profound shock when he realized he was not just really sick but actually dying. It's the sort of things that many fantasies tend to ignore or pay lip service to, and it was neat (and wrenching) to see this aspect of Faerie in urban fantasy fully explored for once.
41. Orson Scott Card, A War of Gifts -- look at that, a new Ender-verse book/story I actually enjoyed! I think it may have to do with it being set in Battle School, which really seems to be where OSC's strength (or at least my preference in this universe) lies. Spoilers
It was good to see the old gang again, Ender and various members of his jeesh in passing, and, of course, to get to know Dink, whom I ended up liking quite a lot. Dink ended up being my sort of person, thinking things like: "Having a soldier under me who's better than I am, smarter, more inventive, doesn't threaten me. I learn from evrybody. I help everybody. I'ts about the only way I can be rebellious in this place -- they chose us for our ambition and they prod us to be competitive. So I don't compete. I cooperate." and There's my contribution to the survival of the human race. [...] I'm not what great commanders are made of. But I know a great commander when I see one, and I can help get him ready. That's good enough for me." and "Right, I'm not competitive. I know I'm not the best -- but without even thinking about it, I assume that I'm therefore second best." and his thoughts about Holland as the greatest human artifact. So, yeah, I liked Dink a lot.
I honestly wasn't sure what to think of Zeck. I thought the portrayal of somebody brainwashed from childhood into genuinely and fiercely believing something totally whacked out to be the only acceptable truth was very well done. Excellent portrait of someone strong and capable and good warped by a cult leader. But as I was reading about Zeck and his father's crazy cult, it was difficult for me to not be thinking, in the back of my mind, that some of the essays OSC himself has written as full of similarly whacked out stuff. I normally don't have a problem with what I know of the author intruding on his fictional worlds, but in this case there was a kind of cognitive... dissonance? tension? I don't know, but it was weird. Took me out of the story, I guess, is what I mean.
The other thing I found rather weird was the interaction between Peter and his mother. Now Peter is Not Right, no argument there. He vivisects squirrels, for goodness' sake. But... he doesn't do it in this story. In this story he is being a cold, jealous, socially maladjusted kid -- but his mother is downright mean to him. And I know he was awful to Ender when Ender was living at home (though, again, we don't see that in this story). And as a parent who has one kid who is really sweet and sensitive and one who has a definite cruel streak (not that I think L is a psychopath or like Peter in most respects! But a shade of the sibling dynamic is there), I can understand where the mother is coming from, too, kinda. But the things she and Peter actually say in this book -- I found it a lot easier to see Peter's point of view in this than hers. She was just cold. And I don't know if that's the intended reaction, and if so, why it is intended. So I was just kind of left puzzled and discomfitted by that.
But overall it was a neat little story and I enjoyed it and it reminded me why I like Ender's Game as much as I do, which none of the Shadow books did.
42. George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons -- see here, with spoilers.
43. Ursula Vernon (ursulav), Dragonbreath: Lair of the Bat Monster (Dragonbreath #4) -- both L and I are continuing to find these books delightful, text and pictures. So, Ninjabreath actually didn't work as well for me, but this one's back to being incredibly charming and funny (and educational!). L and I both still like Wendell best, his worry about losing body parts in the jungle and imaginary spiders and everything, and we both liked Danny's bat-researching cousin Steve (who is some kind of Latin American feathered serpent, I guess). And, of course, the bats. I also like Mrs Dragonbreath, Danny's mother, a lot. And the descriptions of the giant bat: "It made a noise somewhere between a growl and a chitter, like a bus trying to purr."
46. Ursula Vernon, Dragonbreath: Curse of the Were-Wiener (Dragonbreath #3) -- this might actually be my favorite yet, because Spoilers! it's such a delightfully silly premise (an alpha wurst from Transylvania! its ancient enemy the potato salad!) and because there are rats in it (drawn adorably by ursulav, of course) and because we find out some more amusing details about Wendell, my favorite character, like the fact that his mother byys periodic table place mats and bandaids ("puts the pain back in learning!"). Quite a few quotes I loved in this:
"No," said Danny, "no, we'll have to enlist the aid of the ancient enemy of the hot dog."
It took Wendell a minute, and then he remenbered. "You mean potato salad?"
"The batch last spring. It's in the storm drains somewhere."
"Why would it help us?"
"We let it go!" said Danny indignantly. "Are you implying that it can't feel gratitude, just because it's potato salad?"
"No, but..." Wendell spread his hands, wondering how he got into these conversations in the first place. "How do we find it? What if it's dead?"
"Don't be ridiculous," said Danny, heading for the door, "you can't kill a potato salad."
re: following a rat
"Do you think it's really leading us to the potato salad?" sked Wendell worriedly.
"Absolutely," said Danny. "This sort of thing happens all the time. It's totally mytholoical. Heroes follow the animal guide and it leads them to awesome adventures!"
"Seriously?"
"It happened to my cousin. He followed a white peacock for three days."
"Where'd he wind up?"
"The mall," Danny admitted. "But he got a great deal on a plasma-screen TV, so it totally worked out."
"Joseph Campbell is spinning in his grave," muttered Wendell.
There was a long awful moment when Danny thought he'd miscalculated the gratitude of a renegade school lunch.
Very fun little book!
44. Wings of Fire, edited by Jonathan Strahan and Marianne S. Jablon -- this was good enough as a collection that I bought a copy for my friend R's birthday, though not as stellar as, say, Zombies vs Unicorns or some other anthologies I have enjoyed.
Individual stories:
"Stable of Dragons", Peter S. Beagle -- this is actually a poem, and it had some neat imagery, and a striking last line. But I think I would have preferred an actual short story from Beagle, since those tend to be very good.
"The Rule of Names", Ursula K. LeGuin -- this was actually the first thing by LeGuin I read, back when I was in eighth grade and it was in our reader. I actually can't remember if we read it in class or I just read it on my own, but I remember falling in love with Yevaud the dragon disguised as a shy little man (he immediately became part of my multi-universe fanfic stable). Also, Yevaud is the best dragon name ever. Just try saying it aloud. Anyway, so this story kicked off my my love of Ursula LeGuin and my appreciation of dragons as a grown-up, and 20 years later I still love it just as much and can appreciate it even better. ♥
"The Ice Dragon," George R.R. Martin -- I'd actually never read a non-ASOIAF-verse story by GRRM before. It was OK? There was the grittiness I associate with him, but it felt somewhat more jarring in this more mythically focused story. I liked the worldbuilding, especially the ice lizards who melt at human touch. The concept of a winter's child was neat, though I've seen it done better. The ending was bittersweet. It was a good story, but I guess I was expecting something more interesting, since it was GRRM.
"Sobek", Holly Black -- I kind of felt the same way about this one. I think Holly Black writes really, really good short stories, but this one was merely enjoyable. There was the familiar gritty YA feel, quirky teens dealing with profoundly messed up adults, and I liked both the young narrator (and the rather unusual and briefly mentioned fact that she wants to go to "engineering school") and the boy she meets in the sewers, and rescuing the baby dragon was touching. But it didn't feel like anything special.
"King Dragon," Michael Swanwick -- mechanical dragons, war of humans and Faerie, magical truth-telling, stone mother, all kinds of grisly deaths and injuries -- this one was actually really neat! To the point where I think I may want to check out the novels set in the same universe. (And I was left wondering whether Will's blind and apparently childless aunt was another Hag who had told a lie.)
"The Laily Worm," Nina Kiriki Hoffman -- pretty much what I had expected. I liked the language, and I liked the sibling relationship, and I liked that their father actually wakes up and tries to make things right, though fairly brutally, in the end.
"The Harrowing of the Dragon of Hoarsbreath", Patricia McKillip -- skpped this one since I'd read it before.
"The Bully and the Beast", Orson Scott Card -- I think I've read this one? But I wasn't really sure, and I read it again. It was quite heavy-handed, but I liked Winkle the totally amoral thief-turned-counselor ("he had courage of a kind, a selfish courage that allowed him to dare anything if he thought he would gain by it"), and I liked the dragon who is weakened by the truth, and I liked the unusual opt-out ending. I don't know that there's a whole book in this, as OSC is apparently writing, but it was a fairly entertaining story, ably told.
"Concerto Academico", Barry Malzberg -- huh. I think his style is just not for me. I enjoyed some of the slice-of-life narration of the musicians' background, but there was nothing in this story to make me care, so it just kind of set there.
"The Dragon's Boy," Jane Yolen -- Arthuriana with a twist. It was amusingly told, but I don't care about Arthuriana, so.
"The Miracle Aquilina", Margo Lanagan -- less creepy than I had been expecting based on previous stories of hers I'd read! The point of the story was not of any particular interest to me, but I enjoyed the writing, and this particular take on the dragon, and how it is foreshadowed.
"Orm the Beautiful," Elizabeth Bear -- AWWW. "Adorable" is not the word I think of when it comes to EBear's writing, but this was pretty much adorable. It's a sad story, but lovely, and there's something so endearing about Orm the Beautiful and the other dragons and the curator and all the people converging on the museum at the end. And I like this line: "Dragons are not specifically disallowed in the airspace over Washington, D.C., but it must be said that Orm the Beautiful's presence there was heartily discouraged."
"Weyr Search," Anne MacCaffrey -- I'd never read anything set in Pern before this story, would you believe? And, I must say, I walked away from it with no desire to read anything set in Pern, either. The worldbuilding seems... hokey (especially the little rhymes, OMG! and the names are kind of ridiculous), the writing is stilted and, just... not good. It's basically everything that people who don't like sci-fi/fantasy make fun of sci-fi/fantasy for being. Yeah. (But I was surprised by the fair bit of violence perpetrated by dragons in this story. Kind of a "huh" moment, since it didn't seem at all addressed.)
"Paper Dragons", James Blaylock -- have never read anything by him before. I liked the writing in this story -- it had that crazy-but-cozy magical realism feel, with the progressively bigger hermit crabs and understatedly nutty cast of characters. And part of the story takes place in the Bay Area, which was neat. But, for all that I enjoyed the setting and the writing, it didn't feel particularly satisfying as a story...
"Dragon's Gate," Pat Murphy -- enjoyable enough, but nothing special. I did enjoy the meta in this story, though -- the narrator is a storyteller, and she talks about thinking of herself as a hero of the story to keep herself brave, and, in musing on a prince going to take on a dragon, "But princes are raised on stories in which the dragon always dies. Like me, the prince believed in a happy ending." (Especially interesting to read this story in close proximity in ADWD :P)
"In Autumn, A White Dragon Looks Over the Wide River," Naomi Novik -- Lien's POV story on the beginning of her partnership with Napoleon. Not surprisingly, one of my favorites in the collection. It was really neat to see Lien's POV, which made perfect sense, to see how she perceived the Western dragon-husbandry and military practices as crude but could still respect competence on that side even while being surprised by it. And, of course, I've always loved Napoleon, so it was neat to see him, too, and to watch him build his relationship with Lien on self-confidence and mutual respect ("I bow to you where dragons are concerned, but not men.")
"St Dragon and the George", Gordon R. Dickinson -- eh. Cute in places, but mostly tedious. Also, it was written in 1957 and really shows its age in the band of unlikely heroes step up and battle evil to rescue a helpless female (who is only around to be rescued and nag her boyfriend) thing. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't memorable either. Though I did think this was a very cute line, re: the protagonist having claimed his coat of arms featured a typewriter: "A local beast, rather like a griffin."
"The Silver Dragon", Elizabeth A. Lynn -- I've been wanting to read something of hers for 10-15 years now, and this story was basically written entirely for my id. Feisty women who know their own minds and never quit but have loving happy families! (I liked this line about Joanna and her daughter-in-law: "were as friendly as two strong-willed women could be".) Power couples that remain in love as they grow old! Competent leaders who make hard decisions but care about their people! Humans who turn into dragons and the partners who love them! Yeah, this was my kind of story. I can't even judge if it was a particularly good story or not, because I was so busy lapping up everything about it. XD
"The Dragons of Summer Gulch", Robert Reed -- another new author to me. The story was interesting -- flavored with questions of science more than one normally sees in fantasy -- it was almost a sci-fi dragon story, in that -- but I've often pondered the science of dragons myself, so I enjoyed that. The political aspects were less my kind of thing but also interesting. And I liked Barrow (interesting choice of names there), the ultimate survivor.
"Berlin", Charles de Lint -- another eh story. I actually really like the concept of Bordertown, but I didn't care about Berlin and I didn't care about Stick, and all the samurai sword crap bored me. I wasn't sure i was going to finish reading this one, though eventually I did.
"Draco, Draco", Tanith Lee -- I almost always end up really liking her stories in anthologies, and this was no exception -- this story was one of my favorites here. I liked the narration, the subtle background worldbuilding, the writing, the subversion of the dragonslayer story, and, in fact, of the dragon hunting virgins/people story as well . I guessed the twist of who actually killed the dragon early on, but I liked the way it was foreshadowed and unfolded, and the concluding confrontation with the "dragonslayer", which I hadn't seen coming. Really good story!
"The Dragon on the Bookshelf", Harlan Ellison and Robert Silverberg -- I have no idea why this story needed two authors. The only thing it had to recommend itself to me was that it was taking place in San Francisco (and even that had a mistake, I think, saying "23rd street" at one point when I'm pretty sure it was meant to be "avenue". In all other respects it was boring and/or annoying.
"Gwydion and the Dragon," C.J.Cherryh -- I think I've actually read this one before too, but I couldn't be sure, so I read it again. Still good. I like the narration, which really has the homey feel of those sorts of myths, and I liked the twist, though the ending was a tad abrupt.
"The George Business", Roger Zelazny -- funny little story. Not much depth to it, but definitely amusing, and it worked a lot better for me than the other humorous and semi-humorous stories in this collection.
"Dragon's Fin Soup," S.P.Somtow -- another author I'd never read. Very interesting setting, but it got too literary for me there at the end (except for the last line, heh, though it made me groan like a bad pun rather than laugh). Oh, and I also liked the line, when the father of the modern, educated in the US, Chinese woman living in Thailand springs an arranged marriage on her, she thinks, "it was like being stuck in an Amy Tan novel or something." It's the kind of story where I'm glad I read it even though I can't say that I particularly enjoyed it -- the kind of story that these sorts of anthologies are really good for.
"The Man Who Painted the Dragon Griaule", Lucius Shepard -- another interesting story, though I didn't terribly enjoy the stle. I liked the world-building in the first part, didn't like the second part much at all (though the revelation that it may have been the dragon forcing all the players to do their parts so that Meric would not leave before finishing his work did retroactively make it more interesting), and liked old Meric in part 3 a lot more than I had till then, and the final revelation that it had all started as a lark (it was pretty clear in the first part that it had started as a swindle) and grew into his life's work.
In conclusion:
Stories I really liked -- "Rule of Names" (still and forever! ♥), "Orm the Beautiful", "In Autumn, White Dragon, etc.", "The Silver Dragon," "Draco, Draco".
Stories I liked -- "Sobek" (though I know Holly Black can do better), "King Dragon" (intrigued!), "The Laily Worm", "The Miracle Aquilina", "The George Business". I would have listed "Gwydion and the Dragon" here too, probably, but I'd already read it.
Stories I'm glad I read even though they're not really my thing -- "The Man Who Painted the Dragon Griaule", "Dragon's Fin Soup", "The Dragons of Summer Gulch". And slightly less satisfactory: "Paper Dragons" and the poem "Stable of Dragons".
Stories that I enjoyed reading but can't get too excited about -- "The Bully and the Beast", "The Ice Dragon", "Dragon's Gate", "The Dragon's Boy". And on a level below that, "St Dragon and the George."
Stories I didn't enjoy at all -- "Concerto Academico", "Weyr Search", "Berlin", "The Dragon on the Bookshelf".
45. Jacqueline Carey, Naamah's Curse -- so, I was expecting a lot worse! I realize that's rather damning with faint praise, but, really, I quite enjoyed it, except for the last third, and I think I liked it more than the first Moirin book. Spoilers!
A large part of the reason is that I liked Moirin herself more in this one. Moirin in Terre D'Ange rather annoyed me, because she was involved in such unbelievably ill-advised things and seemed oblivious to it. This is almost certainly a feature, and it makes sense -- Moirin the child of Alban wilds finding herself in a rather decadent court, it seems reasonable that she would make a lot of mistakes. But it didn't make watching her make them any more endearing, as far as I was concerned.
Also, I really disliked Jehane, and so Moirin being all besotted with her just irritated me. The relative lack of Jehane in Curse was another positive, though Moirin was mourning her part of the time and then having dream sex with her ghost apparently. Yeah, IDEK. I find Moirin's insistence that Jehane, whom she describes as mercurial and charming but who came across to me as a petulant, spoiled brat who shouldn't have been allowed anywhere near a throne, would've grown into a luminous gentle and wise queen or whatever laughable, and I hope that's meant to be a reflection of how besotted Moirin is with her and not of Moirin's ability to see the future. Anyway, the less Jehane the better, and there was a lot less Jehane in this book.
I also liked Moirin more because there was one large stretch of the book in which she wasn't constantly consulting her diadh-whatever (I love the idea of calling it "magical heartburn", which I believe I'm stealing from angerfish) for every single decision. Occasionally the conflict between her wishes and destiny was actually poignant, but a lot of the time it feels like she is just incapable of making a decision about anything on her own, and that's just kind of lame. But while she's in Vralia, she has no divine guidance from the spark, and has to actually make decisions on her own, which sometimes work out for her and sometimes don't, and that was so much more interesting, even though it was also the time she was the most constrained in her choices.
I liked Moirin's attachment to mementoes from her past, Jehane's perfume bottle, the blue scarf from the Tatars, her uncle's bow (although I did think it was rather improbably that Erdane would rescue and hold onto her stuff). I was amused by Moirin spreading proto-feminism all over the east, telling Bao's Tatar general father (and thinkin about it with his mother) that the emperor of Ch'in is happy with a female heir, objecting to the "uncleanliness" of a vagina ("You speak of the very font and wellsping of life").
I'd expected to hate Vralia, and surprisingly didn't. I will never be OK with the rather baffling choices Carey made with the Yeshuites, but the modern ones in Vralia are clearly so far removed from even the trappings of Judaism that it's a lot easier for me to just think of them as regular Christians, without the cognitive dissonance (and accompanying growling), except when rabbis and yeshivas are still mentioned. I also didn't hate the Vralians-as-Russians, which I thought I might. The only flatly negative character there is Luba, well, and Moirin's captors, I guess, which was better than I'd expected. Valentina turned out compassionate and brave in a beaten-down way, and Aleksei was funny and sweet and fumbling and rose to the occasion. And Pyotr -- I thought Pyotr was a good antagonist. He was good at what he did, he believed fervently in the "work" he was doing, he was scary, but did seem to genuinely want to "save" Moirin, though she was also a tool for his ambition. I was happy to see that his faith was stronger than his ambition when put before a choice, and I liked the fact that he was very humanly flawed, could be manipulated with that. And I liked the moments when Moirin actually finds pleased to earn his approval, because it felt realistically Stockholm syndrome. Basically, I found him to be a complex and effective villain, dangerous and despicable but in a way that made sense to himself.
(Incidentally, I have to say the Russian names bugged me, because I kept wondering where the hell they had come from. Pyotr, the Russian version of Peter, is a Christian name... but it comes to Russian via Greek, and of course in this universe Greece is still pagan. Similarly, Valentina is the feminine version of the name of a Roman saint, which, Caerdicci is still pagan, too. If the Russians became Christians by way of conversion directly by the Yeshuites, they should've either adopted the Hebrew names as their Christian names and be called things like Mikhail and Venyamin and Yakov, or they should've kept Vralian/Russian names like Vladimir, Svetlana, Ludmilla, or have religiously based but still Slavic names like Svyatoslav and maybe Vera. About the only believable ones are Ilya and Luba, which is a diminutive of Lyubov, which means Love in Russian, and makes sense as a Chrstian Russian name (while also being nicely ironic). But I digress...)
So, yeah, I liked Vralia, the problems Moirin encountered and how she had to deal with them, the fact that she *was* tempted to accept Elua and how she ended up refusing (but still seeing similarities between Elua's first commandment and the Great Bear's). I liked Aleksei's arc, and have to remark that, while I normally don't enjoy the way Carey writes sex scenes, the one between him and Moirin, with him being totally overwhelmed and then blaspheming, was actually both really neat and pretty hot. And I liked that even though her time there was pretty grim, the narrative still had a bit of dark humour in it, in her confessions to Pyotr and conversations with Aleksei.
Before we got to Vralia, I also enjoyed Moirin's time with the Tatars, Batu's family, especially the Imperial Princess grandmother from Ch'in, Erdene (Bao's Tatar princess wife), the archer who rescues her in Vralia. I liked the Tatars' insistence that Moirin must have some Tatar ancestors to be able to shoot so well, and in general how domestic and vivid their lives were -- cooking and childbirth and drinking and shooting competitions -- they felt fun and well-rounded, the first time I thought we'd encountered a well-rounded culture in the Moirin books.
And then there was the !Tibet, which was not too bad. I liked Dorje's girls, and I liked the fact that Moirin considers resorting to prostitution to fund her journey but doesn't relish the prospect -- I think it's a good distinction between someone of Naamah's lineage, who is especially free to love and share that love physically, and a Night Court courtesan like Phedre, who is perfectly happy to sleep her way to anything she needs. And, on a similar note, I thought it was interesting to have Moirin shaken by a sexual assault on her journey through the mountains, even while she was able to avoid actual rape.
And then we got to Bhaktipur and oh my god, ugh. Amrita and Ravindra were the most bland, bloodless, character-devoid pair of characters ever. OK, she's gentle and luminous and he is narrow, apparently, and clever, but, just, there is nothing there, no depth, no humanity. So boring! That section is guilty of one of my pet peeves, where something a character says is supposed to be funny, but it's just not. And the Moirin/Amrita, what. I was actually reflecting that, boring as I found Amrita to be, it was rather refreshing to have somebody that Moirin was "a little bit in love" with who had no interest in her. And then of course they go ahead and have sex anyway, because god forbid there be a platonic relationship in these books. (Moirin herself actually kind of remarks on this, when she talks about how it was nice to play with Tatar children. Well, OK, that's not entirely fair, the relationships with Batu's family and Dorje were platonic, but they were platonic/paternal on both sides, and it would've been nice to see Moirin crush on someone and not have it come to anything.)
But anyway, as I was saying, the characters were bland, and the worldbuilding here particularly shabby -- everybody was making mudras/warding gestures and going to temples, and occasionally there was medicine and food, but everything had the depth of a stage prop -- not at all the sense of actual life that we got among the Tatars. And then of course there was the whole caste thing. I do appreciate the fact that Moirin didn't revamp the caste system singlehandedly -- it was her message in conjunction with Jagrati's and Laysa's that Amrita eventually heeded, but, even so, that was rather, um, sweeping. And the rats (whose description I enjoyed) were so totally random -- this was like the only detail in the book that didn't have any sort of significance/didn't end up playing a role in the plot.
I do like Bao, so the reunion with him, complete with opium withdrawal, was quite nice, and the full-fledged reunion after everything is done ("Are you sufficiently reeducated? [...] Because I feel very, very thoroughly relearned" was a very cute Moirin line). I do like the fact that he accepts Moirin as she is and realizes she'll not be a typical wife and is OK with that. And that he's good with kids. And I liked his various relatives, too, his sister and mother, and both his mother's husband and his Tatar general father. Well, not liked, necessarily, but thought they were interesting characters. Oh, and I really liked the fact that Bao doesn't think much of D'Angelines in general and that their beauty isn't OMGirresistible to everytone: "I did not find them all so beautiful, either."
I was very cheered to discover that the lost tribe of Dan did not decide Yeshua was the messiah, because at least there are some actual Jews still in this world.
And I did like this bit of description about the effect of Kamadeva's diamond: "For once [Naamah's gift] didn't feel like a flock of doves taking flight. Ravens, maybe -- ravens with sharp-edged wings and cruel beaks, ready to pick me apart."
47. Caissie St Onge, Jane Jones: Worst. Vampire. Ever -- I picked this up because of the hot pink cover with black and yellow letters on it, and it turned out to be surprisingly fun. It's one of the anti-Twilight vampire YA books that have been turning up lately, and I enjoyed it more than the last one I attempted.
Spoilers The author is a TV comedy writer, and the gags are basically king, but the plot ended up being surprisingly gripping (I stayed up late reading). I guessed that the teacher must be a vampire pretty early on, and then figured out who she must be a bit ahead of Jane, but the final couple of twists -- that Jane had been turned by her parents and that the "cure" was actually poison, did end up surprising me. Jane's blood-intolerant vampire plight was interesting enough (I especially liked her version of the epi pen being something like chemo), and the vampire worldbuilding in general, like the enormous electricity bills they rack up by keeping heat lamps turned on all night so they would sleep then and wake during the day, and Jane's principal being worried that she has an eating disorder. Eli's teenage boy dialogue was endearingly awkward without being unreadable, and I liked the fact that Jane mentally mocked Timothy the Edward parody even while finding him attractive ("I unfolded the second sheet, expecting more of Timothy's calligraphy saying something along the lines of, Dearest Jane, I am still awaiting your answer. Please remit forthwith. Ceaselessly, Timothy.") Cute quote: "I'd become a one-woman crime wave! Okay, maybe just a one-girl minor-infraction machine."
48. Scott Westerfeld, Peeps -- Scott Westerfeld has crossed the line into "will try anything he writes" type of author for me apparently, or maybe I was just in the mood for vampire books, oddly. I have to say, this is probably my favorite vampire book I've read (more than Sunshine), or at least the first half of it is. Spoilers!
I loved the scientific approach to vampirism as a parasite, and I enjoyed the chapters on the real parasites just as much as the actual plot, because it's one of those things that I find freaky but fascinating and can't resist telling B about (some of these things I knew about, some were new to me). I liked the concept of anathema extending beyond holy symbols (and mirrors) -- also, warding off vampires with Elvis action figures and country songs is pretty hilarious. I liked the explanation for how anathema was supposed to work, driving peeps into hiding to avoid getting slaughtered. And vampirism and public health: "Well, the Night Watch up in Boston once tried what you're talking about - a program of education to keep the citizens on the lookout for possible symptoms. They wound up with nonstop accusations of witchcraft, a handful of seventeen-year-olds claiming they'd had sex with the devil, and a lot of innocent bystanders getting barbecued. It took about a hundred years for things to settle down again." Just, the whole thing was really neat.
The second half of the book, with the revelations about Morgan preparing an army of peeps, the old strain, the worms (which, I'd really like to see why the worms are so bad, beyond the smell and feeling of dread, 'cos right now it totally seems like the cure is worse than the disease), was less interesting to me, but I admit the twist tying the old strain going underground to the persecution of cats before the Plague was quite neat. As was this: There's only one logical reason you'd have a secret government organization hunt vampires -- if you wanted the vampires to survive."
I liked Cal, both as narrator and character. I like that he is a bio major, his argument with Sarah at the beginning of their relationship about free will ("Guess I won that one"), wandering into a gay bar by mistake. Unfortunately I found Lace annoying because of her predilection for saying "Dude" all the time. But I did think she had some cute interaction with Cal, like when he used her strainer to trap a rat:
"You owe me a plate and a strainer, dude."
"You owe me an earth-shattering secret history."
"I'd rather have a spaghetti strainer."
And there were some very amusing quotes, like:
"Hell hath no fury like New Yorkers in someone else's cheap apartment."
"Maybe the natural world wasn't so jaw-droppingly horrible -- appalling, nasty, vile. Sometimes nature could be quite sweet, really, as delicate as a confused and horny butterfly." (re: butterflies pollinating jasmine because jasmine smells like butterflies)
So, yeah, really enjoyed the book. Planning to check out the sequel (Last Days), even though the narrators there are less my cup of tea.
40. Brenna Yovanoff, The Replacement -- an interesting and unusual take on the "urban fantasy with fairies" genre I really enjoy. This one's even darker than the Tithe and Wicked Lovely universes, although it does get a sort of happy ending after the darkness. Spoilers!
The concept is quite neat: a town, Gentry (ISWYDT) basically has a symbiotic relationship with supernatural powers who are never stated to be Faeries but clearly are. These powers keep the town prosperous, and in return the town tacitly pays "the tithe to hell" every seven years (or more often, if necessary). Children are stolen away to be sacrificed and sickly changelings are left in their place, who shortly die as well. The book is narrated by Mackie, one such changeling (here called Replacement) who, miraculously, survived to be old enough to go to high school. There are strong elements of horror in the Morrigan's court, dead and disfigured girls walking about, and a general atmosphere of creepiness, which are usually not my preferred cup of tea, but they worked for me here.
One of the things I found most interesting about this book were Mackie's relationships with his family and friends. I like that his parents are actually important, and well-meaning and present though flawed. That his father is a minister, and his mother is a child stolen by Faeries and then returned, and still bears the effects of her ordeal's trauma. And, of course, Mackie's sister, whose love allowed him to survive, who wants to study science, but is gentle and unprepared to be caught in the cruel and monstrous world of Faerie. I also liked Roswell, who clearly knows what's going on with Mackie even though they never talk about it, the elephant in the room. And the twins and Tate were pretty good, too, though I found them less interesting.
I also found it interesting how the book treated Mackie's changeling status essentially as a disability, with an added veil of secretiveness -- the effects of iron on him, both chronic and acute, his parents' protectiveness, which is both justified and chafing, the real limitations of what he could do, dependence on "medicine" later on, profound shock when he realized he was not just really sick but actually dying. It's the sort of things that many fantasies tend to ignore or pay lip service to, and it was neat (and wrenching) to see this aspect of Faerie in urban fantasy fully explored for once.
41. Orson Scott Card, A War of Gifts -- look at that, a new Ender-verse book/story I actually enjoyed! I think it may have to do with it being set in Battle School, which really seems to be where OSC's strength (or at least my preference in this universe) lies. Spoilers
It was good to see the old gang again, Ender and various members of his jeesh in passing, and, of course, to get to know Dink, whom I ended up liking quite a lot. Dink ended up being my sort of person, thinking things like: "Having a soldier under me who's better than I am, smarter, more inventive, doesn't threaten me. I learn from evrybody. I help everybody. I'ts about the only way I can be rebellious in this place -- they chose us for our ambition and they prod us to be competitive. So I don't compete. I cooperate." and There's my contribution to the survival of the human race. [...] I'm not what great commanders are made of. But I know a great commander when I see one, and I can help get him ready. That's good enough for me." and "Right, I'm not competitive. I know I'm not the best -- but without even thinking about it, I assume that I'm therefore second best." and his thoughts about Holland as the greatest human artifact. So, yeah, I liked Dink a lot.
I honestly wasn't sure what to think of Zeck. I thought the portrayal of somebody brainwashed from childhood into genuinely and fiercely believing something totally whacked out to be the only acceptable truth was very well done. Excellent portrait of someone strong and capable and good warped by a cult leader. But as I was reading about Zeck and his father's crazy cult, it was difficult for me to not be thinking, in the back of my mind, that some of the essays OSC himself has written as full of similarly whacked out stuff. I normally don't have a problem with what I know of the author intruding on his fictional worlds, but in this case there was a kind of cognitive... dissonance? tension? I don't know, but it was weird. Took me out of the story, I guess, is what I mean.
The other thing I found rather weird was the interaction between Peter and his mother. Now Peter is Not Right, no argument there. He vivisects squirrels, for goodness' sake. But... he doesn't do it in this story. In this story he is being a cold, jealous, socially maladjusted kid -- but his mother is downright mean to him. And I know he was awful to Ender when Ender was living at home (though, again, we don't see that in this story). And as a parent who has one kid who is really sweet and sensitive and one who has a definite cruel streak (not that I think L is a psychopath or like Peter in most respects! But a shade of the sibling dynamic is there), I can understand where the mother is coming from, too, kinda. But the things she and Peter actually say in this book -- I found it a lot easier to see Peter's point of view in this than hers. She was just cold. And I don't know if that's the intended reaction, and if so, why it is intended. So I was just kind of left puzzled and discomfitted by that.
But overall it was a neat little story and I enjoyed it and it reminded me why I like Ender's Game as much as I do, which none of the Shadow books did.
42. George R.R. Martin, A Dance with Dragons -- see here, with spoilers.
43. Ursula Vernon (ursulav), Dragonbreath: Lair of the Bat Monster (Dragonbreath #4) -- both L and I are continuing to find these books delightful, text and pictures. So, Ninjabreath actually didn't work as well for me, but this one's back to being incredibly charming and funny (and educational!). L and I both still like Wendell best, his worry about losing body parts in the jungle and imaginary spiders and everything, and we both liked Danny's bat-researching cousin Steve (who is some kind of Latin American feathered serpent, I guess). And, of course, the bats. I also like Mrs Dragonbreath, Danny's mother, a lot. And the descriptions of the giant bat: "It made a noise somewhere between a growl and a chitter, like a bus trying to purr."
46. Ursula Vernon, Dragonbreath: Curse of the Were-Wiener (Dragonbreath #3) -- this might actually be my favorite yet, because Spoilers! it's such a delightfully silly premise (an alpha wurst from Transylvania! its ancient enemy the potato salad!) and because there are rats in it (drawn adorably by ursulav, of course) and because we find out some more amusing details about Wendell, my favorite character, like the fact that his mother byys periodic table place mats and bandaids ("puts the pain back in learning!"). Quite a few quotes I loved in this:
"No," said Danny, "no, we'll have to enlist the aid of the ancient enemy of the hot dog."
It took Wendell a minute, and then he remenbered. "You mean potato salad?"
"The batch last spring. It's in the storm drains somewhere."
"Why would it help us?"
"We let it go!" said Danny indignantly. "Are you implying that it can't feel gratitude, just because it's potato salad?"
"No, but..." Wendell spread his hands, wondering how he got into these conversations in the first place. "How do we find it? What if it's dead?"
"Don't be ridiculous," said Danny, heading for the door, "you can't kill a potato salad."
re: following a rat
"Do you think it's really leading us to the potato salad?" sked Wendell worriedly.
"Absolutely," said Danny. "This sort of thing happens all the time. It's totally mytholoical. Heroes follow the animal guide and it leads them to awesome adventures!"
"Seriously?"
"It happened to my cousin. He followed a white peacock for three days."
"Where'd he wind up?"
"The mall," Danny admitted. "But he got a great deal on a plasma-screen TV, so it totally worked out."
"Joseph Campbell is spinning in his grave," muttered Wendell.
There was a long awful moment when Danny thought he'd miscalculated the gratitude of a renegade school lunch.
Very fun little book!
44. Wings of Fire, edited by Jonathan Strahan and Marianne S. Jablon -- this was good enough as a collection that I bought a copy for my friend R's birthday, though not as stellar as, say, Zombies vs Unicorns or some other anthologies I have enjoyed.
Individual stories:
"Stable of Dragons", Peter S. Beagle -- this is actually a poem, and it had some neat imagery, and a striking last line. But I think I would have preferred an actual short story from Beagle, since those tend to be very good.
"The Rule of Names", Ursula K. LeGuin -- this was actually the first thing by LeGuin I read, back when I was in eighth grade and it was in our reader. I actually can't remember if we read it in class or I just read it on my own, but I remember falling in love with Yevaud the dragon disguised as a shy little man (he immediately became part of my multi-universe fanfic stable). Also, Yevaud is the best dragon name ever. Just try saying it aloud. Anyway, so this story kicked off my my love of Ursula LeGuin and my appreciation of dragons as a grown-up, and 20 years later I still love it just as much and can appreciate it even better. ♥
"The Ice Dragon," George R.R. Martin -- I'd actually never read a non-ASOIAF-verse story by GRRM before. It was OK? There was the grittiness I associate with him, but it felt somewhat more jarring in this more mythically focused story. I liked the worldbuilding, especially the ice lizards who melt at human touch. The concept of a winter's child was neat, though I've seen it done better. The ending was bittersweet. It was a good story, but I guess I was expecting something more interesting, since it was GRRM.
"Sobek", Holly Black -- I kind of felt the same way about this one. I think Holly Black writes really, really good short stories, but this one was merely enjoyable. There was the familiar gritty YA feel, quirky teens dealing with profoundly messed up adults, and I liked both the young narrator (and the rather unusual and briefly mentioned fact that she wants to go to "engineering school") and the boy she meets in the sewers, and rescuing the baby dragon was touching. But it didn't feel like anything special.
"King Dragon," Michael Swanwick -- mechanical dragons, war of humans and Faerie, magical truth-telling, stone mother, all kinds of grisly deaths and injuries -- this one was actually really neat! To the point where I think I may want to check out the novels set in the same universe. (And I was left wondering whether Will's blind and apparently childless aunt was another Hag who had told a lie.)
"The Laily Worm," Nina Kiriki Hoffman -- pretty much what I had expected. I liked the language, and I liked the sibling relationship, and I liked that their father actually wakes up and tries to make things right, though fairly brutally, in the end.
"The Harrowing of the Dragon of Hoarsbreath", Patricia McKillip -- skpped this one since I'd read it before.
"The Bully and the Beast", Orson Scott Card -- I think I've read this one? But I wasn't really sure, and I read it again. It was quite heavy-handed, but I liked Winkle the totally amoral thief-turned-counselor ("he had courage of a kind, a selfish courage that allowed him to dare anything if he thought he would gain by it"), and I liked the dragon who is weakened by the truth, and I liked the unusual opt-out ending. I don't know that there's a whole book in this, as OSC is apparently writing, but it was a fairly entertaining story, ably told.
"Concerto Academico", Barry Malzberg -- huh. I think his style is just not for me. I enjoyed some of the slice-of-life narration of the musicians' background, but there was nothing in this story to make me care, so it just kind of set there.
"The Dragon's Boy," Jane Yolen -- Arthuriana with a twist. It was amusingly told, but I don't care about Arthuriana, so.
"The Miracle Aquilina", Margo Lanagan -- less creepy than I had been expecting based on previous stories of hers I'd read! The point of the story was not of any particular interest to me, but I enjoyed the writing, and this particular take on the dragon, and how it is foreshadowed.
"Orm the Beautiful," Elizabeth Bear -- AWWW. "Adorable" is not the word I think of when it comes to EBear's writing, but this was pretty much adorable. It's a sad story, but lovely, and there's something so endearing about Orm the Beautiful and the other dragons and the curator and all the people converging on the museum at the end. And I like this line: "Dragons are not specifically disallowed in the airspace over Washington, D.C., but it must be said that Orm the Beautiful's presence there was heartily discouraged."
"Weyr Search," Anne MacCaffrey -- I'd never read anything set in Pern before this story, would you believe? And, I must say, I walked away from it with no desire to read anything set in Pern, either. The worldbuilding seems... hokey (especially the little rhymes, OMG! and the names are kind of ridiculous), the writing is stilted and, just... not good. It's basically everything that people who don't like sci-fi/fantasy make fun of sci-fi/fantasy for being. Yeah. (But I was surprised by the fair bit of violence perpetrated by dragons in this story. Kind of a "huh" moment, since it didn't seem at all addressed.)
"Paper Dragons", James Blaylock -- have never read anything by him before. I liked the writing in this story -- it had that crazy-but-cozy magical realism feel, with the progressively bigger hermit crabs and understatedly nutty cast of characters. And part of the story takes place in the Bay Area, which was neat. But, for all that I enjoyed the setting and the writing, it didn't feel particularly satisfying as a story...
"Dragon's Gate," Pat Murphy -- enjoyable enough, but nothing special. I did enjoy the meta in this story, though -- the narrator is a storyteller, and she talks about thinking of herself as a hero of the story to keep herself brave, and, in musing on a prince going to take on a dragon, "But princes are raised on stories in which the dragon always dies. Like me, the prince believed in a happy ending." (Especially interesting to read this story in close proximity in ADWD :P)
"In Autumn, A White Dragon Looks Over the Wide River," Naomi Novik -- Lien's POV story on the beginning of her partnership with Napoleon. Not surprisingly, one of my favorites in the collection. It was really neat to see Lien's POV, which made perfect sense, to see how she perceived the Western dragon-husbandry and military practices as crude but could still respect competence on that side even while being surprised by it. And, of course, I've always loved Napoleon, so it was neat to see him, too, and to watch him build his relationship with Lien on self-confidence and mutual respect ("I bow to you where dragons are concerned, but not men.")
"St Dragon and the George", Gordon R. Dickinson -- eh. Cute in places, but mostly tedious. Also, it was written in 1957 and really shows its age in the band of unlikely heroes step up and battle evil to rescue a helpless female (who is only around to be rescued and nag her boyfriend) thing. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't memorable either. Though I did think this was a very cute line, re: the protagonist having claimed his coat of arms featured a typewriter: "A local beast, rather like a griffin."
"The Silver Dragon", Elizabeth A. Lynn -- I've been wanting to read something of hers for 10-15 years now, and this story was basically written entirely for my id. Feisty women who know their own minds and never quit but have loving happy families! (I liked this line about Joanna and her daughter-in-law: "were as friendly as two strong-willed women could be".) Power couples that remain in love as they grow old! Competent leaders who make hard decisions but care about their people! Humans who turn into dragons and the partners who love them! Yeah, this was my kind of story. I can't even judge if it was a particularly good story or not, because I was so busy lapping up everything about it. XD
"The Dragons of Summer Gulch", Robert Reed -- another new author to me. The story was interesting -- flavored with questions of science more than one normally sees in fantasy -- it was almost a sci-fi dragon story, in that -- but I've often pondered the science of dragons myself, so I enjoyed that. The political aspects were less my kind of thing but also interesting. And I liked Barrow (interesting choice of names there), the ultimate survivor.
"Berlin", Charles de Lint -- another eh story. I actually really like the concept of Bordertown, but I didn't care about Berlin and I didn't care about Stick, and all the samurai sword crap bored me. I wasn't sure i was going to finish reading this one, though eventually I did.
"Draco, Draco", Tanith Lee -- I almost always end up really liking her stories in anthologies, and this was no exception -- this story was one of my favorites here. I liked the narration, the subtle background worldbuilding, the writing, the subversion of the dragonslayer story, and, in fact, of the dragon hunting virgins/people story as well . I guessed the twist of who actually killed the dragon early on, but I liked the way it was foreshadowed and unfolded, and the concluding confrontation with the "dragonslayer", which I hadn't seen coming. Really good story!
"The Dragon on the Bookshelf", Harlan Ellison and Robert Silverberg -- I have no idea why this story needed two authors. The only thing it had to recommend itself to me was that it was taking place in San Francisco (and even that had a mistake, I think, saying "23rd street" at one point when I'm pretty sure it was meant to be "avenue". In all other respects it was boring and/or annoying.
"Gwydion and the Dragon," C.J.Cherryh -- I think I've actually read this one before too, but I couldn't be sure, so I read it again. Still good. I like the narration, which really has the homey feel of those sorts of myths, and I liked the twist, though the ending was a tad abrupt.
"The George Business", Roger Zelazny -- funny little story. Not much depth to it, but definitely amusing, and it worked a lot better for me than the other humorous and semi-humorous stories in this collection.
"Dragon's Fin Soup," S.P.Somtow -- another author I'd never read. Very interesting setting, but it got too literary for me there at the end (except for the last line, heh, though it made me groan like a bad pun rather than laugh). Oh, and I also liked the line, when the father of the modern, educated in the US, Chinese woman living in Thailand springs an arranged marriage on her, she thinks, "it was like being stuck in an Amy Tan novel or something." It's the kind of story where I'm glad I read it even though I can't say that I particularly enjoyed it -- the kind of story that these sorts of anthologies are really good for.
"The Man Who Painted the Dragon Griaule", Lucius Shepard -- another interesting story, though I didn't terribly enjoy the stle. I liked the world-building in the first part, didn't like the second part much at all (though the revelation that it may have been the dragon forcing all the players to do their parts so that Meric would not leave before finishing his work did retroactively make it more interesting), and liked old Meric in part 3 a lot more than I had till then, and the final revelation that it had all started as a lark (it was pretty clear in the first part that it had started as a swindle) and grew into his life's work.
In conclusion:
Stories I really liked -- "Rule of Names" (still and forever! ♥), "Orm the Beautiful", "In Autumn, White Dragon, etc.", "The Silver Dragon," "Draco, Draco".
Stories I liked -- "Sobek" (though I know Holly Black can do better), "King Dragon" (intrigued!), "The Laily Worm", "The Miracle Aquilina", "The George Business". I would have listed "Gwydion and the Dragon" here too, probably, but I'd already read it.
Stories I'm glad I read even though they're not really my thing -- "The Man Who Painted the Dragon Griaule", "Dragon's Fin Soup", "The Dragons of Summer Gulch". And slightly less satisfactory: "Paper Dragons" and the poem "Stable of Dragons".
Stories that I enjoyed reading but can't get too excited about -- "The Bully and the Beast", "The Ice Dragon", "Dragon's Gate", "The Dragon's Boy". And on a level below that, "St Dragon and the George."
Stories I didn't enjoy at all -- "Concerto Academico", "Weyr Search", "Berlin", "The Dragon on the Bookshelf".
45. Jacqueline Carey, Naamah's Curse -- so, I was expecting a lot worse! I realize that's rather damning with faint praise, but, really, I quite enjoyed it, except for the last third, and I think I liked it more than the first Moirin book. Spoilers!
A large part of the reason is that I liked Moirin herself more in this one. Moirin in Terre D'Ange rather annoyed me, because she was involved in such unbelievably ill-advised things and seemed oblivious to it. This is almost certainly a feature, and it makes sense -- Moirin the child of Alban wilds finding herself in a rather decadent court, it seems reasonable that she would make a lot of mistakes. But it didn't make watching her make them any more endearing, as far as I was concerned.
Also, I really disliked Jehane, and so Moirin being all besotted with her just irritated me. The relative lack of Jehane in Curse was another positive, though Moirin was mourning her part of the time and then having dream sex with her ghost apparently. Yeah, IDEK. I find Moirin's insistence that Jehane, whom she describes as mercurial and charming but who came across to me as a petulant, spoiled brat who shouldn't have been allowed anywhere near a throne, would've grown into a luminous gentle and wise queen or whatever laughable, and I hope that's meant to be a reflection of how besotted Moirin is with her and not of Moirin's ability to see the future. Anyway, the less Jehane the better, and there was a lot less Jehane in this book.
I also liked Moirin more because there was one large stretch of the book in which she wasn't constantly consulting her diadh-whatever (I love the idea of calling it "magical heartburn", which I believe I'm stealing from angerfish) for every single decision. Occasionally the conflict between her wishes and destiny was actually poignant, but a lot of the time it feels like she is just incapable of making a decision about anything on her own, and that's just kind of lame. But while she's in Vralia, she has no divine guidance from the spark, and has to actually make decisions on her own, which sometimes work out for her and sometimes don't, and that was so much more interesting, even though it was also the time she was the most constrained in her choices.
I liked Moirin's attachment to mementoes from her past, Jehane's perfume bottle, the blue scarf from the Tatars, her uncle's bow (although I did think it was rather improbably that Erdane would rescue and hold onto her stuff). I was amused by Moirin spreading proto-feminism all over the east, telling Bao's Tatar general father (and thinkin about it with his mother) that the emperor of Ch'in is happy with a female heir, objecting to the "uncleanliness" of a vagina ("You speak of the very font and wellsping of life").
I'd expected to hate Vralia, and surprisingly didn't. I will never be OK with the rather baffling choices Carey made with the Yeshuites, but the modern ones in Vralia are clearly so far removed from even the trappings of Judaism that it's a lot easier for me to just think of them as regular Christians, without the cognitive dissonance (and accompanying growling), except when rabbis and yeshivas are still mentioned. I also didn't hate the Vralians-as-Russians, which I thought I might. The only flatly negative character there is Luba, well, and Moirin's captors, I guess, which was better than I'd expected. Valentina turned out compassionate and brave in a beaten-down way, and Aleksei was funny and sweet and fumbling and rose to the occasion. And Pyotr -- I thought Pyotr was a good antagonist. He was good at what he did, he believed fervently in the "work" he was doing, he was scary, but did seem to genuinely want to "save" Moirin, though she was also a tool for his ambition. I was happy to see that his faith was stronger than his ambition when put before a choice, and I liked the fact that he was very humanly flawed, could be manipulated with that. And I liked the moments when Moirin actually finds pleased to earn his approval, because it felt realistically Stockholm syndrome. Basically, I found him to be a complex and effective villain, dangerous and despicable but in a way that made sense to himself.
(Incidentally, I have to say the Russian names bugged me, because I kept wondering where the hell they had come from. Pyotr, the Russian version of Peter, is a Christian name... but it comes to Russian via Greek, and of course in this universe Greece is still pagan. Similarly, Valentina is the feminine version of the name of a Roman saint, which, Caerdicci is still pagan, too. If the Russians became Christians by way of conversion directly by the Yeshuites, they should've either adopted the Hebrew names as their Christian names and be called things like Mikhail and Venyamin and Yakov, or they should've kept Vralian/Russian names like Vladimir, Svetlana, Ludmilla, or have religiously based but still Slavic names like Svyatoslav and maybe Vera. About the only believable ones are Ilya and Luba, which is a diminutive of Lyubov, which means Love in Russian, and makes sense as a Chrstian Russian name (while also being nicely ironic). But I digress...)
So, yeah, I liked Vralia, the problems Moirin encountered and how she had to deal with them, the fact that she *was* tempted to accept Elua and how she ended up refusing (but still seeing similarities between Elua's first commandment and the Great Bear's). I liked Aleksei's arc, and have to remark that, while I normally don't enjoy the way Carey writes sex scenes, the one between him and Moirin, with him being totally overwhelmed and then blaspheming, was actually both really neat and pretty hot. And I liked that even though her time there was pretty grim, the narrative still had a bit of dark humour in it, in her confessions to Pyotr and conversations with Aleksei.
Before we got to Vralia, I also enjoyed Moirin's time with the Tatars, Batu's family, especially the Imperial Princess grandmother from Ch'in, Erdene (Bao's Tatar princess wife), the archer who rescues her in Vralia. I liked the Tatars' insistence that Moirin must have some Tatar ancestors to be able to shoot so well, and in general how domestic and vivid their lives were -- cooking and childbirth and drinking and shooting competitions -- they felt fun and well-rounded, the first time I thought we'd encountered a well-rounded culture in the Moirin books.
And then there was the !Tibet, which was not too bad. I liked Dorje's girls, and I liked the fact that Moirin considers resorting to prostitution to fund her journey but doesn't relish the prospect -- I think it's a good distinction between someone of Naamah's lineage, who is especially free to love and share that love physically, and a Night Court courtesan like Phedre, who is perfectly happy to sleep her way to anything she needs. And, on a similar note, I thought it was interesting to have Moirin shaken by a sexual assault on her journey through the mountains, even while she was able to avoid actual rape.
And then we got to Bhaktipur and oh my god, ugh. Amrita and Ravindra were the most bland, bloodless, character-devoid pair of characters ever. OK, she's gentle and luminous and he is narrow, apparently, and clever, but, just, there is nothing there, no depth, no humanity. So boring! That section is guilty of one of my pet peeves, where something a character says is supposed to be funny, but it's just not. And the Moirin/Amrita, what. I was actually reflecting that, boring as I found Amrita to be, it was rather refreshing to have somebody that Moirin was "a little bit in love" with who had no interest in her. And then of course they go ahead and have sex anyway, because god forbid there be a platonic relationship in these books. (Moirin herself actually kind of remarks on this, when she talks about how it was nice to play with Tatar children. Well, OK, that's not entirely fair, the relationships with Batu's family and Dorje were platonic, but they were platonic/paternal on both sides, and it would've been nice to see Moirin crush on someone and not have it come to anything.)
But anyway, as I was saying, the characters were bland, and the worldbuilding here particularly shabby -- everybody was making mudras/warding gestures and going to temples, and occasionally there was medicine and food, but everything had the depth of a stage prop -- not at all the sense of actual life that we got among the Tatars. And then of course there was the whole caste thing. I do appreciate the fact that Moirin didn't revamp the caste system singlehandedly -- it was her message in conjunction with Jagrati's and Laysa's that Amrita eventually heeded, but, even so, that was rather, um, sweeping. And the rats (whose description I enjoyed) were so totally random -- this was like the only detail in the book that didn't have any sort of significance/didn't end up playing a role in the plot.
I do like Bao, so the reunion with him, complete with opium withdrawal, was quite nice, and the full-fledged reunion after everything is done ("Are you sufficiently reeducated? [...] Because I feel very, very thoroughly relearned" was a very cute Moirin line). I do like the fact that he accepts Moirin as she is and realizes she'll not be a typical wife and is OK with that. And that he's good with kids. And I liked his various relatives, too, his sister and mother, and both his mother's husband and his Tatar general father. Well, not liked, necessarily, but thought they were interesting characters. Oh, and I really liked the fact that Bao doesn't think much of D'Angelines in general and that their beauty isn't OMGirresistible to everytone: "I did not find them all so beautiful, either."
I was very cheered to discover that the lost tribe of Dan did not decide Yeshua was the messiah, because at least there are some actual Jews still in this world.
And I did like this bit of description about the effect of Kamadeva's diamond: "For once [Naamah's gift] didn't feel like a flock of doves taking flight. Ravens, maybe -- ravens with sharp-edged wings and cruel beaks, ready to pick me apart."
47. Caissie St Onge, Jane Jones: Worst. Vampire. Ever -- I picked this up because of the hot pink cover with black and yellow letters on it, and it turned out to be surprisingly fun. It's one of the anti-Twilight vampire YA books that have been turning up lately, and I enjoyed it more than the last one I attempted.
Spoilers The author is a TV comedy writer, and the gags are basically king, but the plot ended up being surprisingly gripping (I stayed up late reading). I guessed that the teacher must be a vampire pretty early on, and then figured out who she must be a bit ahead of Jane, but the final couple of twists -- that Jane had been turned by her parents and that the "cure" was actually poison, did end up surprising me. Jane's blood-intolerant vampire plight was interesting enough (I especially liked her version of the epi pen being something like chemo), and the vampire worldbuilding in general, like the enormous electricity bills they rack up by keeping heat lamps turned on all night so they would sleep then and wake during the day, and Jane's principal being worried that she has an eating disorder. Eli's teenage boy dialogue was endearingly awkward without being unreadable, and I liked the fact that Jane mentally mocked Timothy the Edward parody even while finding him attractive ("I unfolded the second sheet, expecting more of Timothy's calligraphy saying something along the lines of, Dearest Jane, I am still awaiting your answer. Please remit forthwith. Ceaselessly, Timothy.") Cute quote: "I'd become a one-woman crime wave! Okay, maybe just a one-girl minor-infraction machine."
48. Scott Westerfeld, Peeps -- Scott Westerfeld has crossed the line into "will try anything he writes" type of author for me apparently, or maybe I was just in the mood for vampire books, oddly. I have to say, this is probably my favorite vampire book I've read (more than Sunshine), or at least the first half of it is. Spoilers!
I loved the scientific approach to vampirism as a parasite, and I enjoyed the chapters on the real parasites just as much as the actual plot, because it's one of those things that I find freaky but fascinating and can't resist telling B about (some of these things I knew about, some were new to me). I liked the concept of anathema extending beyond holy symbols (and mirrors) -- also, warding off vampires with Elvis action figures and country songs is pretty hilarious. I liked the explanation for how anathema was supposed to work, driving peeps into hiding to avoid getting slaughtered. And vampirism and public health: "Well, the Night Watch up in Boston once tried what you're talking about - a program of education to keep the citizens on the lookout for possible symptoms. They wound up with nonstop accusations of witchcraft, a handful of seventeen-year-olds claiming they'd had sex with the devil, and a lot of innocent bystanders getting barbecued. It took about a hundred years for things to settle down again." Just, the whole thing was really neat.
The second half of the book, with the revelations about Morgan preparing an army of peeps, the old strain, the worms (which, I'd really like to see why the worms are so bad, beyond the smell and feeling of dread, 'cos right now it totally seems like the cure is worse than the disease), was less interesting to me, but I admit the twist tying the old strain going underground to the persecution of cats before the Plague was quite neat. As was this: There's only one logical reason you'd have a secret government organization hunt vampires -- if you wanted the vampires to survive."
I liked Cal, both as narrator and character. I like that he is a bio major, his argument with Sarah at the beginning of their relationship about free will ("Guess I won that one"), wandering into a gay bar by mistake. Unfortunately I found Lace annoying because of her predilection for saying "Dude" all the time. But I did think she had some cute interaction with Cal, like when he used her strainer to trap a rat:
"You owe me a plate and a strainer, dude."
"You owe me an earth-shattering secret history."
"I'd rather have a spaghetti strainer."
And there were some very amusing quotes, like:
"Hell hath no fury like New Yorkers in someone else's cheap apartment."
"Maybe the natural world wasn't so jaw-droppingly horrible -- appalling, nasty, vile. Sometimes nature could be quite sweet, really, as delicate as a confused and horny butterfly." (re: butterflies pollinating jasmine because jasmine smells like butterflies)
So, yeah, really enjoyed the book. Planning to check out the sequel (Last Days), even though the narrators there are less my cup of tea.