I write a lot of death scenes. Understandable, since my books center around wars in the Middle Ages. If you escaped the swords of the enemy, there...
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When I was little, my favorite part of The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show was always the “Fractured Fairytales” segment. I loved how they took classic fairy tales and gave them a humorous twist. Lately, this same idea has become increasingly popular as TV...more
When I was little, my favorite part of The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show was always the “Fractured Fairytales” segment. I loved how they took classic fairy tales and gave them a humorous twist. Lately, this same idea has become increasingly popular as TV shows like Once upon a Time and movies like Shrek put their own spin on the folk stories of long ago.
The Woodcutter, by Kate Danley is a novel that draws from a wealth of fairy tale lore. A horrifying beast has been prowling the forest, terrifying innocent girls like Cinderella to death, and it is up to the Woodcutter, the guardian of the forest, to put things to rights. But when the Woodcutter begins his quest, he discovers that deeper doings are afoot. The Twelve Kingdoms themselves are under threat from a nefarious Queen and her consort the Gentleman. Stolen pixie dust, moving palaces, Rumpelstiltskin, twelve dancing princesses, and a boy named Jack all find their place in an epic adventure that takes the reader to fairyland and beyond.
Danley weaves together fairy tales in a fascinating web, creating a whole new story with great depth and emotion. In many ways, her book is the opposite of Jasper Fforde’s Nursery Crime series. For Fforde, the nursery rhyme and fairy tale allusions are all there to provide tongue in cheek humor. For Danley, the shards of story are there to craft her own beautiful mosaic. She skillfully paints the character of the Woodcutter, a man whose greatest desire is to go home to his ordinary Wife, but who must instead shoulder his duty to guard the Wood as did his father before him. His pain at being childless and his pity for the helpless create a multi-dimensional protagonist easy to empathize with.
Kate Danley’s book is self-published and may be difficult to get a hold of through the library. It is certainly worth the extra effort to find it, however, and I enthusiastically recommend it to all aficionados of fairy tales, fables, and mythology.(less)
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The Crown
by
Nancy Bilyeau (Goodreads Author)
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I didn’t enter any historical fiction reading challenges this year, and consequently, the amount of historical fiction in my TBR pile has significantly declined from last year. The Crown, by Nancy Bilyeau is the first historical novel I’ve read, and...more
I didn’t enter any historical fiction reading challenges this year, and consequently, the amount of historical fiction in my TBR pile has significantly declined from last year. The Crown, by Nancy Bilyeau is the first historical novel I’ve read, and I’m certainly glad I didn’t pass it up! It’s a historical whodunit that belongs right up there with Ellis Peters’ Brother Cadfael books and Lindsey Davis’ Falco novels–and if you know my penchant for Peters and Davis, that’s high praise indeed.
Set during the reign of Henry VIII of England, The Crown follows the story of Joanna Stafford, a novice at Dartford Priory. In an era when the monasteries are being dissolved to satisfy the king’s cupidity, it is an unfortunate time to be taking holy orders. When Joanna breaks the rule of enclosure to travel to see the execution of her cousin Margaret, she runs afoul of the authorities and is imprisoned, along with her father, in the Tower of London. The Bishop of Winchester agrees to let her return to Dartford on one condition: she must search for and find the ancient crown of Athelstan which is rumored to be hidden there. Her father will stay a prisoner to ensure that she accomplishes her mission.
Bilyeau paints a rich world of religious life in Tudor England and surrounds Joanna with memorable characters–a chivalrous constable, a tormented friar, a hard-nosed prioress, an ambitious prelate. The past life of the protagonist unfolds tantalizingly throughout the course of the novel, always making you want to know more about her. After a murder takes place in the priory, the story intensifies to the point that the book is impossible to set down. I stayed up far too late finishing this book, and the ending did not disappoint! All in all, The Crown is a superb debut novel, and I look forward to reading whatever else Nancy Bilyeau publishes in the future.(less)
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I discovered Susanna Kearsley a little over a year ago when I read, enjoyed, and reviewed The Shadowy Horses. Ever since then I’ve been looking to read more of her books. The historical fiction community on-line has been raving about Kearsley’s novel...more
I discovered Susanna Kearsley a little over a year ago when I read, enjoyed, and reviewed The Shadowy Horses. Ever since then I’ve been looking to read more of her books. The historical fiction community on-line has been raving about Kearsley’s novel The Winter Sea, and I was finally able to get a hold of it at the library.
The Winter Sea is a timeslip novel with half of it set in present day Scotland and half of it set in the early eighteenth century at the same location. The protagonist, Carrie McClelland, is a historical novelist working on a novel about one of the Jacobites’ attempted invasions. She comes to Scotland to research her story and get inspired by the scenery and the ruins of the castle at Slains. Carrie rents a cottage from Jimmy Keith, one of the old locals who still speaks the Doric dialect, and makes the acquaintance of his two handsome sons: Stuart, the playboy who thinks Carrie is sure to fall for him, and Graham, the history lecturer at the university in Aberdeen.
Living near the ruins of Slains, Carrie experiences writing inspiration of a magnitude she’s never felt before. Every night she writes like a woman in a dream and comes out of her trance to discover that she’s typed 5,000 words or more. Her fictional heroine, Sophia Paterson, is named after one of her ancestors from the Jacobite period. But as Carrie writes more and more about Sophia, describing her sojourn at Slains, her relationship with John Moray, and the treacherous plots swirling around her, a startling thing happens. What Carrie thought was fiction, an invention of her own brain, turns out time and time again to be the stuff of history. Everything that Carrie has written about Sophia is confirmed by her research in the primary source documents. Aghast at her own seemingly psychic abilities, Carrie searches for a rational explanation to explain away the coincidences. But with fiction and history inseparably intertwined, Carrie is faced with another problem: how can Sophia have a happily ever after when all of the actual events say otherwise?
The Winter Sea didn’t fully capture my interest until I was about halfway into the book. Usually, in a timeslip novel, I find myself more interested in the events of yesteryear than in the modern story. But with this book, it was the opposite. I found Carrie McClelland far more engaging than her heroine Sophia. Perhaps it was because the historical setting was during an era that doesn’t really capture my fancy–give me anything that takes place after the Tudors and my interest wanes considerably. Eventually, however, I was pulled in to the story and became involved with the characters. Although The Shadowy Horses still remains my favorite Kearsley novel, The Winter Sea was a worthy second. And if I can ever find time to make it down to the library, I have another Kearsley there waiting for me….(less)
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Midnight in Austenland, by Shannon Hale is a sequel of sorts to her bestseller Austenland which I read and reviewed last month. While the first book had overtones of Pride and Prejudice as Jane Hayes tried to figure out the haughty Mr. Nobley, this b...more
Midnight in Austenland, by Shannon Hale is a sequel of sorts to her bestseller Austenland which I read and reviewed last month. While the first book had overtones of Pride and Prejudice as Jane Hayes tried to figure out the haughty Mr. Nobley, this book plays up aspects of Mansfield Park with a doormat heroine and a staged theatrical and Northanger Abbey with a gothic mystery and a suspected murder. Charlotte Kinder is a sweet and intelligent thirty-something-year-old whose husband has just left her for another woman. Depressed and alone, Charlotte discovers and devours Jane Austen's books. Thanks to her on-line landscaping business, Charlotte is possessed of limitless wealth. She decides to take a trip to England and visit Pembrook Park, a sort of theme park for wealthy women interested in role-playing characters from the Regency period.
Having already read the first novel, I found that the novelty of Austenland lost a little bit of its luster for me. Charlotte goes through the same experience of finding romance as Jane Hayes did in the first book, being torn between two different actors in the cast, one of whom loves her truly, and one of whom is only pretending. Hale mixes up the plot a little by putting Mrs. Wattlesbrook, the proprietress, in financial distress. Pembrook Park is in danger of shutting down, and someone there, it seems, is ready to kill to stop that from happening. As mysteries go, the clues to the murder were poorly contrived. In one dramatic scene, Charlotte catches the murderer hiding the keys to the victim's BMW inside a vase. I found it extremely strange that he would still have the keys after submerging the car and the body in the estate's pond.
Overall, Midnight in Austenland was a bit of a disappointment to me. If I hadn't been running short on library books, I might not have taken the time to finish it.(less)
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“Because she was a princess she had a pegasus.” As I mentioned in my recent review of Chalice, I greatly enjoy the opening lines to Robin McKinley’s novels. Pegasus, her latest book, is another YA fantasy, and once again, McKinley does a fabulous job...more
“Because she was a princess she had a pegasus.” As I mentioned in my recent review of Chalice, I greatly enjoy the opening lines to Robin McKinley’s novels. Pegasus, her latest book, is another YA fantasy, and once again, McKinley does a fabulous job of world building. For nearly a thousand years, the humans and the pegasi have been joined together in an alliance against the evil dragon-like creatures known as norindours, wyverns, and rocs. But although they are allied, the societies of the two peoples are very different and they can barely communicate with each other except through the human magicians and the pegasi shamans.
Princess Sylvi, almost twelve years old when the story begins, is about to be “bound” to her own pegasus. It is a ritual that all members of the royal families undergo in order to further the friendship between the two races. When the diminutive girl meets the giant black pegasus for the first time, she discovers something remarkable–she can hear Ebon talking inside her head and they can understand each other! This unique connection between the princess and her pegasus does not please everyone, the magicians least of all. Fthoom, the most powerful magician in the land, goes into a towering rage and works to separate the two. But Sylvi refuses to give up her new best friend Ebon.
The majority of the book is a description of how Sylvi and Ebon’s friendship grows and also of Sylvi’s growing understanding of the pegasi and their culture. McKinley beautifully contrasts the humans, able to make war with their strong hands, and the pegasi, able to make works of art beyond all human imagination. She slowly but steadily builds up the drama of the book until the very end…when the unsuspecting reader finds out that nothing has been concluded and she is planning to write a sequel. While writing the book, McKinley said this on her blog:
"About a month ago I decided I couldn’t do it in one book: so perforce I’m going to be writing a real sequel for the first time in my life . . . well, sort of. It’s going to be a sequel like THE RETURN OF THE KING is a sequel to THE TWO TOWERS. Remember the last line of TWO TOWERS? ‘Frodo was alive but taken by the Enemy’? Yes. You’re going to hate me for the ending of PEGASUS. Well, I hope you’ll hate me: you’ll hate me if you like the book."
It’s official: I hate Robin McKinley. When will Pegasus II be published? Not till 2014 if her blog banner speaks true.(less)
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The Dragon’s Tooth, by N. D. Wilson was released about six months ago with much fanfare and excitement. I had enjoyed a couple of Wilson’s other children’s books, Leepike Ridge and The 100 Cupboards, but my disappointment with books 2 and 3 in the 10...more
The Dragon’s Tooth, by N. D. Wilson was released about six months ago with much fanfare and excitement. I had enjoyed a couple of Wilson’s other children’s books, Leepike Ridge and The 100 Cupboards, but my disappointment with books 2 and 3 in the 100 Cupboards series made me reluctant to attempt The Dragon’s Tooth. When the fanfare subsided, I pretty much forgot that the book existed. Earlier this month, however, my six-year-old nephew proudly showed it off to me as the longest book he’s ever read. I decided to place it on hold at the library and give it a whirl.
Twelve-year-old Cyrus Smith lives in a dilapidated old motel with his older sister Antigone and older brother Dan. With their father dead for several years and their mother in a coma, the Smith children are forced to fend for themselves. For Cyrus, life consists of mundane things like skipping school, collecting old tires, and eating waffles. But when a strange guest named William Skelton checks in at the motel and demands to receive Room 111, life for the Smith children takes a radical change.
As the motel goes up in flames around them, Cyrus and Antigone find themselves initiates in a secret society known as the Order of Brendan with a bloodthirsty villain named Maximillien Robespierre on their trail. The children flee to Ashtown, a secret city housing the Order of Brendan, bringing with them a set of magical keys, an invisible snake named Patricia, and a shiny black shard said to be a piece of a dragon’s tooth. The adventure only gets wilder from there with venomous whip spiders, dragonfly surveillance cameras, friendly bull sharks, and immortal enemies. The book is a thrilling page-turner full of allusions to history and literature, a sort of Treasure Island of Dr. Moreau. (And no, I’m not going to explain that. You’ll have to read it see what I mean.) The only disappointment I had after finishing it is that the next book of the series hasn’t yet been published. I can wait. But not very patiently.(less)
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I adore Cold Comfort Farm, both the book written by Stella Gibbons and the movie starring Kate Beckinsale. So when I discovered Nightingale Wood, another novel written by Gibbons, I couldn’t pass it up.
Viola Wither, a young shopgirl who married above...more
I adore Cold Comfort Farm, both the book written by Stella Gibbons and the movie starring Kate Beckinsale. So when I discovered Nightingale Wood, another novel written by Gibbons, I couldn’t pass it up.
Viola Wither, a young shopgirl who married above herself, is forced to go live with her in-laws when her husband dies. Her marriage, lasting approximately one year, was not exactly a bed of roses, but her new life at The Eagles is even more dull and unbearable. Her father-in-law, the old Mr. Wither, is only concerned with “organizing” his money and the lives of the womenfolk under his care. Her mother-in-law, Mrs. Wither, is only concerned with keeping her husband from fretting when his investments do poorly. Madge and Tina, the spinster daughters of the house, feel the oppressive gloom as much as Viola does, longing for something–anything–to happen to relieve the tedium of it all.
A chance meeting acquaints Viola with Victor Spring, the rich and handsome neighbor over whom all the village girls swoon. Victor is practically (though not technically) engaged to Phyllis Barlow. Phyllis is just the kind of wife a man in Victor’s station needs: glamorous, well-dressed, able to throw parties and manage a big house–although it does get on Victor’s nerves how she is always trying to order him around, and the fact that she doesn’t want to have any children…that’s something he’ll have to change her mind about later. The sweet and innocent Viola Wither makes little impression on Victor at first, but when she goes to the Infirmary Ball with a fabulous new haircut and a dress to die for, the neighborhood Prince Charming finds himself quite taken with her. The only trouble is–he still plans to marry Phyllis, and his intentions toward Viola are not exactly honorable.
The secondary romance in the book involves Tina, the younger of the Wither spinsters, and Saxon, the family’s chauffeur. Desperate for love and besotted by the handsome chauffeur twelve years her junior, Tina arranges daily driving lessons so that she will get to spend time with him. Saxon notices her partiality for him, and at first, plans to use it to his advantage to help himself rise in the world. But he soon discovers that Tina, despite her age, is “a pretty little thing” and a secret romance blossoms between these two unlikely lovers.
The author’s narration and descriptions sparkle, reminding me a little of P.G. Wodehouse’s wit. When Viola comes into some money and fritters it away on clothes, Gibbons writes: “Mr and Mrs Wither seemed to think that her clothes were brought by the ravens, like Elijah’s dinner, for they never asked her where she got the money to buy them.” A chapter later in the book opens with this marvelous description of life at the Wither home:
"The family at The Eagles was assembled in the drawing-room at that dreary hour when tea is long over and dinner not yet in sight. It was a tranquil scene; it would have annoyed a Communist. Five non-productive members of the bourgeoisie sat in a room as large as a small hall, each breathing more air, warmed by more fire and getting more delight and comfort from the pictures and furniture than was strictly necessary. In the kitchen underneath them three members of the working class swinked ignobly at getting their dinner, bought with money from invested capital. But perhaps this is not a very interesting way of regarding poor Mr Wither and the rest…."
One of the most delightful things about Gibbons story is her ability to describe the characters as if they were real people: a young man embarrassed by his mother’s immodest behavior, a pleasant and party-loving lady distressed that she cannot like her son’s intended, an aging spinster fixing all her affection on a dog since she has no man. She shows you the flaws of her characters–shallowness, self-interest, stupidity–and yet still makes you care, and care deeply, for them. Her first description of Viola is not one you would expect of the romantic heroine in a novel: “She did not look quite a lady, which was natural, as she was not one.” And yet the character of Viola, with all its vapidness and gaucheness and silliness, grows on you over the course of the book until you are positively rooting for her to get Victor Spring in the end.
This description of Mr. Spurrey was one of my favorite paragraphs. I do not think you can read it without it reminding you of some acquaintance of your own.
"Mr Spurrey was, in fact, lonely as only a crashing bore can be. People were nice to him, as has been explained earlier in the story, but somehow whenever he met someone (unless, of course, he had them pinned in a corner over a meal) that someone had to hurry off somewhere else. This had been happening to Mr Spurrey ever since he could talk; that is, for some seventy-three years. He naturally felt that he had missed something. He did not know what. He only knew that all his life, without realizing it, he had wanted to find someone who would listen while he talked; just listen, without smiling and hurrying away; listen for hours while he frightened them with horrific prophecies, and commented upon the amazing state of the world."
Nightingale Wood was an entertaining read, not quite as superb as Cold Comfort Farm, but still witty and wonderful throughout. I recommend it for anyone interested in reading an intelligent and satirical romance.(less)
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Mockingjay, the final book in Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games trilogy, concludes the story of Katniss Everdeen, but whether it is a satisfactory conclusion is a question open for debate. As the book begins, Katniss has been whisked away from the Hunger...more
Mockingjay, the final book in Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games trilogy, concludes the story of Katniss Everdeen, but whether it is a satisfactory conclusion is a question open for debate. As the book begins, Katniss has been whisked away from the Hunger Games arena by the shadowy rebels from District 13. These insurgents have spent many hours planning her escape and spent many lives bringing it about–which begs the question: what makes Katniss Everdeen so important? Hers is a face that the whole country knows and admires–hers is the voice that could inspire the overthrow of the Capitol.
Furious that the rebels rescued her while leaving Peeta to his fate, Katniss initially refuses to become the symbolic Mockingjay that will inspire a revolution. But when she sees the utter devastation that the Capitol has wreaked on her home District, she agrees to take up the role they require and lends her celebrity status to propaganda films denouncing the Capitol’s cruelty.
Gale, Katniss’ mother, and her sister Prim are some of the refugees who escaped the obliteration of District 12. Together with Katniss they take shelter in the underground bunkers of District 13. The rebels’ regimented life of austerity, enforced by their leader Alma Coin, chafes a little with the refugees. Have they escaped the dictatorial oppression of the Capitol only to have exchanged it for a new kind of oppression?
The difficult dilemma that faced Katniss in the previous book (does she love Gale or Peeta?) alters dramatically as both of her friends undergo radical changes. In Gale, a harsh bitterness against the Capitol springs up and an insatiable thirst for vengeance. In Peeta, the unconditional love he has always shown for Katniss disappears under startling circumstances. Katniss no longer has either of the two rocks on which she used to rely.
Collins makes the allusions to ancient Rome explicit in this book as one of the characters explains that the country’s name, Panem, comes from the Latin phrase “panem et circenses.” Offering bread and circuses was the way that the Roman empire kept its citizens occupied and kept their minds off revolting. In Katniss’ world, the circuses are the Hunger Games. For three quarters of a century, the Capitol has been able to distract the Districts with the televised horrors of children killing each other for survival.
Mockingjay brings into high relief the theme of violence which Collins introduced in the previous books. Does the end justify the means? If the rebels wage war with the same atrocities committed by the Capitol, are they really any better than President Snow? Is it even possible to wage war without becoming a monster? After Katniss admits to Gale that she would have killed to have kept herself out of the arena, she thinks: "But I don’t know what to tell him about the aftermath of killing a person. About how they never leave you."
For Katniss, violence, even violence in self-defense, will never fail to leave its scars. Book three is a post mortem of her own post traumatic stress disorder, of the imprint that the Hunger Games have left on her. In the first two books, the tension of the story was relieved periodically with happier moments and pleasant interaction between the characters. But the entire atmosphere of Mockingjay is dark, brooding, and as oppressive as the Capitol itself.
In the end, Katniss must make her own choice about whether to become as machiavellian as President Snow or to salvage whatever shreds of decency are still left to her. But either way, there is no hope to redeem the events of the story. There is no Gospel–”good news”–to redeem what has happened to Katniss and what Katniss has caused to happen. Katniss Everdeen may have survived the Hunger Games, but the Hunger Games have eaten up her life, and like Joseph Conrad’s character Kurtz, the only thing we are left with is: “The horror! The horror!”(less)
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"Because she was Chalice she stood at the front door with the Grand Seneschal, the Overlord’s agent and the Prelate, all of whom were carefully ignoring her. But she was Chalice, and it was from her hand the Master would take the welcome cup…."
From t...more
"Because she was Chalice she stood at the front door with the Grand Seneschal, the Overlord’s agent and the Prelate, all of whom were carefully ignoring her. But she was Chalice, and it was from her hand the Master would take the welcome cup…."
From the very first paragraph, Robin McKinley draws you into the world of Chalice. The title character, whose given name is Marisol, is a young woman called to a position in which she feels woefully inadequate. When the previous Master and his Chalice were killed in a fire, Marisol was chosen to be the new Chalice, the second highest ranking member of the council that governs the demesne. Formerly a lowly woodskeeper and beekeeper, Marisol knows nothing of the ceremonies and duties required of her. Normally, a prospective Chalice would spend years in apprenticeship to the previous Chalice. But these are not normal times, and Marisol must turn to books of history and lore to learn how to bind together the people and land in her charge.
Seven years ago the Master’s brother had been sent away to join the fire priests. When the Master died, his brother had just been initiated into the third level of the fire priests and was on his way to becoming an elemental spirit. He was no longer human, and it was doubtful whether he could survive in a human world. But when the call came for him to come back to his home and become the new Master, the brother did not hesitate. He gave up his place among the fire priests and returned–greatly weakened–to rule the demesne he loved.
But on his return, not all in the demesne loved him. Many of the council members balked at his strangeness and feared he would be unable to control his own fiery powers. Marisol, it seems, is the only one willing to stand by him while he relearns how to live in the human world and how to govern the land. Despite his frightening exterior, she finds him a kind soul in whom she can confide her own doubts and fears. When a coup to depose the new Master is threatened, it is Marisol the Chalice who must find a way to save him, or–failing that–to heal the land so that it will still thrive if an outblood Master gains power. For as much as she longs to save the Master, it is her duty to the land that comes foremost.
McKinley’s writing style is a delight to read. I was torn between wanting to read faster so I could learn more of the story and wanting to read slower so I could revel in the words. Her descriptions of Marisol’s beekeeping activities are portrayed in prose as sweet and flowing as the honey that Marisol mixes into all her ceremonial cups.
I wanted so badly to give this book five stars, but it had one flaw that seems to be a recurring one in McKinley’s books: the ending was weak. I remember this being a significant problem in The Blue Sword as well. You are at the very climax of the story, and suddenly it resolves with a piece of magic that you don’t understand because it wasn’t foreshadowed properly in the preceding chapters. So, four stars for this book, but a very well-earned four stars. This is a beautiful book that will stay in my thoughts for a long time.(less)
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2009
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