And I want Romola Garai's hair. Have I said this before?
Sin turned her back on the market and leaned her cheek against Lydie's hair, looking out at the spread of London at night, thousands of lights like the glittering points of knives.
-- from The Demon's Surrender by Sarah Rees Brennan
1. An article I liked. I Hate Your Characters, So Your Book Stinks: After another Australian author expressed concern regarding the trend of readers judging books based on whether they would like to be friends with its characters, Michelle Cooper discusses a similar trend in bloggers judging YA based on the relatability of the characters.Until recently, I wasn’t even aware that ‘relatable’ was a word, and I’m still not entirely sure what it means in this context. Does it mean: ‘I want to be friends with this character’? Or does it mean: ‘I recognise something of myself in this character, even though the familiar characteristics may be flaws’?
Objectively, I can see that a book's worth should not be limited to (or even necessarily dictated by) how much readers want to be friends with the characters ... but I personally find it hard to read books where I don't like the characters.
To care about the story even to keep reading, I need to care about the characters, and to care about the characters, I want to be able to empathise and understand and like them. (Which is why I have never finished anything by Flaubert.) I need to be able to relate, somehow. And meeting fictional characters with whom I'd like to be friends is always an added bonus.
So I can understand how other readers might use "Do I want to be friends with these characters?" as their measuring stick. It's a valid thing to go looking for in books, just as valid as anything else. However, the conclusion of "I hate your characters, so your book stinks" is less valid. (I don't think Flaubert stinks, I think he wasn't writing the sort of novels I like to read. There's a difference.)
But so, perhaps, is the concept that it is possibly to objectively determine a book's quality...
2. Another article I liked. Funnell and Miller suggest that instead of mocking teen Twihards, try talking to them:While the criticisms of the film may be legitimate, the subsequent worrying over teen girls, and criticism of those who enjoy Twilight, is not productive. When we roll our eyes at the cultural goods that appeal to teen girls and when we dismiss texts that manage to speak to them, we miss out on an opportunity to better understand and engage with girls.
I appreciated that this made a distinction between critiquing a text and critiquing those who like said text, because so often those two seem to be conflated. Furthermore, the authors also observed that teenage girls are capable of critiquing Twilight, and its messages and issues, themselves.
3. The five Doctor Who mini-episodes (Bad Night, Good Night, First Night, Last Night, and Up All Night) went along way to addressing the issues I had with series 6 as a whole. It was like an acknowledgement that there was more going on for the characters than the series showed, and that just because those things weren't shown doesn't mean they weren't issues or talked about. I needed that acknowledgement. Until then, I was beginning to feel like Amy and Rory's lives didn't go beyond the borders of the story...
The mini-episodes also confirmed that I am a bigger fan of Moffat's individual stories than I am of the overarching narrative threads holding those individual stories together. I love Moffat stories on a small scale, and when that small scale is sacrificed for a tell a bigger story, I'm less convinced.
4. I was rewatching "Blink" a few days ago, because - well, it's "Blink". Very rewatchable.
It occurred to me that Larry is very much like Rory. Because Larry appears in one episode, while Rory is in many. it is impossible to say if Larry shares this or that quality with Rory .. but there's something about him which suggests he does. They're both a similar sort of character.
5. I have a few questions about the UK edition of Erin Bow's Plain Kate (which was the edition I read). Who thought that the title "Wood Angel" or the cover - which matches that title - were a good representation of this novel? And why did they think that? The cover makes me think of fairies, fairies for grown-ups maybe, but fairies nonetheless. It's misleading!
Plain Kate is like a folk tale (and not a fairytale retelling) - poetic, dark and heartbreaking. It's about the suffering caused by ignorance and superstition, and finding strength and friendship in the face of grief. I found it a very uncomfortable book - well-written, interestingly different, but uncomfortable.
The one lightness in all of this is Taggle, Kate's talking cat. I loved that giving Taggle a voice didn't give him a human perspective, just a way to voice his cat-ish perspective.Taggle climbed into her lap. "Hello," he said, then rolled over and peered up at her appealingly. "I am fond of you and present my throat for scratching."
6. Frequently, possibly weekly, I check my library catalogue for books I'm hoping will turn up on their radar. Books often seem to appear on the system as soon as a library orders them, so I start looking for some things even before they are released (in the hopes that I can place a hold on the item before anyone else does). I was checking the catalogue, hoping for The Demon's Surrender, for months.
I didn't consider Sin a logical choice for a central protagonist. The trilogy had really been about the Ryves and the Crawfords, and while Sin was a part of their world - and a part of the trilogy - to shift to her perspective seemed to be to drastic shift the focus of the story.
But it isn't - and I enjoyed the different perspective Sin has of familiar people and things. (It possibly also helped that it's over a year since I read The Demon's Covenant.) I also discovered I really liked Sin.
The Demon's Surrender is amusing, compelling - I couldn't put it down - and surprising.
I would have liked to see more of some other characters, perhaps, but I thought the story worked being Sin's. Even the eavesdropping on other's conversations. And I like the way Brennan puts words together and I love that this is a trilogy about the bonds between siblings. There's not enough fantasy about siblings out there.
I'm feeling a need to reread the first two books, but I suspect this was my favourite - not the most unpredictable, nor the most heart-wrenching, but the one I liked the most.
"You being brave and beautiful and smart is nice," Alan said thoughtfully. "But it's not important. Not compared to the future we have together in a life of crime."
"You make a good point."
7. The last episodes of The Hour! I don't have much coherent to say about them, but oh, the last two hours of The Hour! Particularly the last.
I liked the 1950s setting, all the details I didn't know about - the conflict in Egypt, the rules dictating how and when television news could comment on contemporary politics - and the way the mystery ultimately unfolded. I liked subtlety of the storytelling, the complexity of the characters. I loved Freddie's tenacity and his friendship with Bel, which isn't always comfortable or equal... but at the heart of it is just two people who know each other really, really well.
And I want Romola Garai's hair. Have I said this before? I think I might have.
8. They're doing a second series of The Hour. And there's a part of me which responds to this news like Alleyn in Arts in Crime involuntarily protesting against Troy adding any more to her painting, "Because its perfect - you'll hurt it."
On the other hand. They're doing a second series of The Hour!
9. Kate Elliott's Jaran was a LibraryThing recommendation for books similar to Shards of Honour... I think.
Tess plans to escape heartbreak (and avoid being her brother's heir) by spending some time in the city of Jeds. But when she unexpectedly ends up on another part of the planet, she falls in with a nomadic horse-riding tribe who know little of life in the city, let alone life in the rest of the universe.
I enjoyed watching Tess cope with an unfamiliar tribal culture and her interactions with her adoptive tribal family. But otherwise, the book reminded me of The Kira Chronicles, because I found it simultaneously interesting, predictable and annoying. And maybe because the romantic interest was a bit too arrogant for his own good.
Some of the predictability was of a good sort, and some of it was frustrating. But I kept reading until the end.
Which is probably why I want to whinge about its annoying aspects (like Tess embarking on a relationship with a charming young man when it's clear to every man and his dog horse that she's really attracted to someone else and, while charming young man likes her, he's only really interested because she's the only woman for miles around... ). If it had annoyed me more, I wouldn't consider it worth whinging about.
~ Herenya
reading: Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader by Anne Fadiman
-- from The Demon's Surrender by Sarah Rees Brennan
1. An article I liked. I Hate Your Characters, So Your Book Stinks: After another Australian author expressed concern regarding the trend of readers judging books based on whether they would like to be friends with its characters, Michelle Cooper discusses a similar trend in bloggers judging YA based on the relatability of the characters.Until recently, I wasn’t even aware that ‘relatable’ was a word, and I’m still not entirely sure what it means in this context. Does it mean: ‘I want to be friends with this character’? Or does it mean: ‘I recognise something of myself in this character, even though the familiar characteristics may be flaws’?
Objectively, I can see that a book's worth should not be limited to (or even necessarily dictated by) how much readers want to be friends with the characters ... but I personally find it hard to read books where I don't like the characters.
To care about the story even to keep reading, I need to care about the characters, and to care about the characters, I want to be able to empathise and understand and like them. (Which is why I have never finished anything by Flaubert.) I need to be able to relate, somehow. And meeting fictional characters with whom I'd like to be friends is always an added bonus.
So I can understand how other readers might use "Do I want to be friends with these characters?" as their measuring stick. It's a valid thing to go looking for in books, just as valid as anything else. However, the conclusion of "I hate your characters, so your book stinks" is less valid. (I don't think Flaubert stinks, I think he wasn't writing the sort of novels I like to read. There's a difference.)
But so, perhaps, is the concept that it is possibly to objectively determine a book's quality...
2. Another article I liked. Funnell and Miller suggest that instead of mocking teen Twihards, try talking to them:While the criticisms of the film may be legitimate, the subsequent worrying over teen girls, and criticism of those who enjoy Twilight, is not productive. When we roll our eyes at the cultural goods that appeal to teen girls and when we dismiss texts that manage to speak to them, we miss out on an opportunity to better understand and engage with girls.
I appreciated that this made a distinction between critiquing a text and critiquing those who like said text, because so often those two seem to be conflated. Furthermore, the authors also observed that teenage girls are capable of critiquing Twilight, and its messages and issues, themselves.
3. The five Doctor Who mini-episodes (Bad Night, Good Night, First Night, Last Night, and Up All Night) went along way to addressing the issues I had with series 6 as a whole. It was like an acknowledgement that there was more going on for the characters than the series showed, and that just because those things weren't shown doesn't mean they weren't issues or talked about. I needed that acknowledgement. Until then, I was beginning to feel like Amy and Rory's lives didn't go beyond the borders of the story...
The mini-episodes also confirmed that I am a bigger fan of Moffat's individual stories than I am of the overarching narrative threads holding those individual stories together. I love Moffat stories on a small scale, and when that small scale is sacrificed for a tell a bigger story, I'm less convinced.
4. I was rewatching "Blink" a few days ago, because - well, it's "Blink". Very rewatchable.
It occurred to me that Larry is very much like Rory. Because Larry appears in one episode, while Rory is in many. it is impossible to say if Larry shares this or that quality with Rory .. but there's something about him which suggests he does. They're both a similar sort of character.
5. I have a few questions about the UK edition of Erin Bow's Plain Kate (which was the edition I read). Who thought that the title "Wood Angel" or the cover - which matches that title - were a good representation of this novel? And why did they think that? The cover makes me think of fairies, fairies for grown-ups maybe, but fairies nonetheless. It's misleading!
Plain Kate is like a folk tale (and not a fairytale retelling) - poetic, dark and heartbreaking. It's about the suffering caused by ignorance and superstition, and finding strength and friendship in the face of grief. I found it a very uncomfortable book - well-written, interestingly different, but uncomfortable.
The one lightness in all of this is Taggle, Kate's talking cat. I loved that giving Taggle a voice didn't give him a human perspective, just a way to voice his cat-ish perspective.Taggle climbed into her lap. "Hello," he said, then rolled over and peered up at her appealingly. "I am fond of you and present my throat for scratching."
6. Frequently, possibly weekly, I check my library catalogue for books I'm hoping will turn up on their radar. Books often seem to appear on the system as soon as a library orders them, so I start looking for some things even before they are released (in the hopes that I can place a hold on the item before anyone else does). I was checking the catalogue, hoping for The Demon's Surrender, for months.
I didn't consider Sin a logical choice for a central protagonist. The trilogy had really been about the Ryves and the Crawfords, and while Sin was a part of their world - and a part of the trilogy - to shift to her perspective seemed to be to drastic shift the focus of the story.
But it isn't - and I enjoyed the different perspective Sin has of familiar people and things. (It possibly also helped that it's over a year since I read The Demon's Covenant.) I also discovered I really liked Sin.
The Demon's Surrender is amusing, compelling - I couldn't put it down - and surprising.
I would have liked to see more of some other characters, perhaps, but I thought the story worked being Sin's. Even the eavesdropping on other's conversations. And I like the way Brennan puts words together and I love that this is a trilogy about the bonds between siblings. There's not enough fantasy about siblings out there.
I'm feeling a need to reread the first two books, but I suspect this was my favourite - not the most unpredictable, nor the most heart-wrenching, but the one I liked the most.
"You being brave and beautiful and smart is nice," Alan said thoughtfully. "But it's not important. Not compared to the future we have together in a life of crime."
"You make a good point."
7. The last episodes of The Hour! I don't have much coherent to say about them, but oh, the last two hours of The Hour! Particularly the last.
I liked the 1950s setting, all the details I didn't know about - the conflict in Egypt, the rules dictating how and when television news could comment on contemporary politics - and the way the mystery ultimately unfolded. I liked subtlety of the storytelling, the complexity of the characters. I loved Freddie's tenacity and his friendship with Bel, which isn't always comfortable or equal... but at the heart of it is just two people who know each other really, really well.
And I want Romola Garai's hair. Have I said this before? I think I might have.
8. They're doing a second series of The Hour. And there's a part of me which responds to this news like Alleyn in Arts in Crime involuntarily protesting against Troy adding any more to her painting, "Because its perfect - you'll hurt it."
On the other hand. They're doing a second series of The Hour!
9. Kate Elliott's Jaran was a LibraryThing recommendation for books similar to Shards of Honour... I think.
Tess plans to escape heartbreak (and avoid being her brother's heir) by spending some time in the city of Jeds. But when she unexpectedly ends up on another part of the planet, she falls in with a nomadic horse-riding tribe who know little of life in the city, let alone life in the rest of the universe.
I enjoyed watching Tess cope with an unfamiliar tribal culture and her interactions with her adoptive tribal family. But otherwise, the book reminded me of The Kira Chronicles, because I found it simultaneously interesting, predictable and annoying. And maybe because the romantic interest was a bit too arrogant for his own good.
Some of the predictability was of a good sort, and some of it was frustrating. But I kept reading until the end.
Which is probably why I want to whinge about its annoying aspects (like Tess embarking on a relationship with a charming young man when it's clear to every man and his dog horse that she's really attracted to someone else and, while charming young man likes her, he's only really interested because she's the only woman for miles around... ). If it had annoyed me more, I wouldn't consider it worth whinging about.
~ Herenya
reading: Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader by Anne Fadiman