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Aimee wrote: "oooh...sounds good! " |
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The Lady and the Unicorn is the second book I've borrowed for a test drive from author Tracy Chevalier, after seeing her give a fantastic, comfortable yet commanding talk on the inspiration behind her novels at the Brisbane Writer's Festival earlier this year (the first book I delved into was Remarkable Creatures - you can find my review HERE).
The Lady and the Unicorn, despite my initial reservations cultivated by some earlier disappointed reviewers, did not disappoint me.
I found it to be an elegant read, similar to how I felt about Remarkable Creatures, yet this is where the comparison of the two novels ends for me - The Lady and the Unicorn is decidedly Parisian (more sensual!) and takes place in the late 15th Century, where a series of six tapestries presses within its folds the desires and loves and frustrations of those involved in the tapestries' creation.
The Lady and the Unicorn begins at the commissioning of the artwork - Nicholas Des Innocent (ironically named, considering his Don Juan characteristics) is a French artist employed by a French noble, who has requested the erection of a battle scene tapestry for his living room/ banquet area. After Nicholas the artist meets the French noble's serene wife and her five comely daughters, the idea of a battle scene is persuasively altered to a work of more peaceful beauty - a set of six separate tapestries, each with a beautiful maiden representing the five senses of the physical human body (sight, sound, smell, taste and touch) through individual interactions with a lone white unicorn, complete a rather sizeable and sharp horn on its brow. The sixth maiden is separate from the rest and does not represent any of the senses - it heralds a sense of stability and freedom that the reader may find missing in the other five tapestry creations as they shift and alter through to the final display.
The symbolism of the tapestries and the way in which the artist has rebelled against the class norm to declare his lusty passions for the nobleman's daughter through the artwork, is not unlike Chevalier's rebellion against a usual novel structure with its one protagonist. Before this novel is over we will meet other characters influenced by the recklessness of the charismatic artist, and witness the blood, sweat and tears wrung from the unpredictability of life, and change.
The tapestries themselves aren't fiction - they've collectively become known in modern times as The Lady and the Unicorn, and according to Wikipedia is considered to be the greatest masterpiece of the medieval age. I didn't know much about this incredibly detailed tapestry to begin with - but I feel now that I'd be happy to research further: Chevalier has given the artwork a story of vibrancy that I wonder whether a museum viewing of the tapestries would have been able to adequately convey.
The author has deftly spun a storyline arc that plaits perspectives and lives in and over one another throughout the novel, and the book appears to be a social study of class and duty, of lust and love and responsibilities. Yet Chevalier's true triumph is her ability to write historical books that are driven by the details of life's inner workings, rather than a catastrophic event that a character can have no control over. The Lady and the Unicorn picks at relationships and exposes how they can be threaded together, or broken with the snip of scissors, or even covered or painted over to make way for something entirely different -the tapestries' supposed innocence and peaceful sweetness barely covers the heady desires and insensible impulses of the novel's passionate characters.
It wouldn't be entirely true to call this story a work of historical fiction. And Chevalier is not an historian either. More, she is a photographer and a painter, a psychologist with imagination, as she creates and moulds a sense of the lives and the relationships lived by a handful of not-so-simple people in a snapshot of time. And I enjoyed the book mostly for its complex characters and complex life changes, and somewhat simple solutions. But I also appreciated its subtle undercurrents - as if you can never take what the book is saying at face value.
Strangely sensual, sometimes rude and sometimes sweetly poignant, this story lifts and falls naturally much like the heaving bosom Nicholas Des Innocents constantly fantasises about. Its steady rhythm and pace keeps one involved in the story itself rather than looking for a climax, or a conclusion, though by the end of the book everyone's loose ends are tied satisfactorily, or not so satisfactorily, depending on how you wanted each character to end up. But isn't that always the way?
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. Chevalier is perfectly subtle and wonderfully natural in her writing, and I cannot wait to try her next book if the past two have been anything to go by.
But if there's one particular lesson I take from reading this book, it's this: keep your daughters within eyeshot and your legs primly crossed, for you never know who might be frolicking about under the banquet table, hoping to catch a glimpse of innocence undone. You might not think to lift your skirts for any such creature, but the draw of the magical unicorn's horn can be too powerful for some human maidens to resist.
Rating: 4 faintly-pulsing stars for The Lady and the Unicorn. ]]>
In coming to the decision to purchase this book, Mistress of the Art of Death, I did my background research first. I visited a fair few blogs that had reviewed the book, and found that the reviews were so entirely positive that I couldn't wait to get my grubby paws on the book myself. The bloggers were not wrong (thank the gods). This novel is a gloriously delicious read.
Set in the Middle Ages as a medieval mystery, our protagonist has been asked to travel to Cambridge (United Kingdom) from the Middle East, to research the mystery behind a group of local children who have been tortured to death and mutilated in a similar manner to one another. Short in stature, Dr. Vesuvia Adelia Rachel Ortese Aguilar of Salerno is a strange and unlikely heroine, and a Doctor of the Dead, meaning she is a medically-qualified examiner of dead bodies. Fiesty and scientifically-minded, Dr. Aguilar has little other choice than to work undercover, considering this is medieval England where female doctors are few and far between because of society's view of women. Add to this the fact that she can apparently derive messages from the bodies of the dead and Dr Aguilar's the perfect candidate to be accused of witchcraft and set to burning. And so, under the wing of her valiant protector and old friend Simon of Naples, Dr. Aguilar acts as the servant assistant to her own Arab slave, Mansur, who plays the role of 'Doctor' to all external prying eyes.
As a particularly valuable doctor's assistant, our headstrong protagonist struggles with the case of the mutilated kidlets on both a personal and professional level, and her search for the killer becomes more and more desperate, as further children are picked off by an unknown murderous beast. But could the animal be closer than she thinks?
I read this book in one sitting. That in itself should alert you to how much I enjoyed this read, considering I have the attention span of a gnat when the book waives from awesomeness for longer than a few pages. And the book is 507 pages long. So, I think you'll agree - no mean feat.
The reason it's such a robust dish of perverse playfulness, I believe, boils down to the expert writing. It's a perfect balance of detail and sparseness, and makes you forget that this medieval period could have been a bit boring for the casual reader of history. That's if anyone less expert had written this book. In fact, the style reminds me a bit of another little masterpiece, Ken Follett's The Pillars of the Earth (little?! Hah!), although Mistress of the Art of Death is less focused on lifetimes and more focused on moments. It's what makes a fast-paced story, I guess! If you like the sound of Geoffrey Chaucer's Canterbury Tales with a splash of The Da Vinci Code then this book is for you.
Besides being a cracker of a crime thriller, Mistress of the Art of Death is an intensely satisfying historical read too. There are so many paths this book could explore further - the persistence of a little disease called 'cholera', Jewish/Islamic/Christian fireworks, gallant knights returning from crusade, scientific enlightenment intruding on religious fervour, corrupt and ignorant priors and prioresses...the list is extensive. YES, I will admit - there are some historical follies rather than facts, but I promise you the story's entertainment will have the most uptight historian turning a blind eye to its mistakes. And as it's set in the period when mighty Plantaganet Henry II was occupying the throne, the author puts a fascinatingly rare and positive spin on the reign of a king who has only been known to history for commanding the murder of Thomas Becket, the then Archbishop of Canterbury.
If you really want though, you can go barging past all this historical 'nonsense', and there's still a bloody good read to be found under the rubble.
As for characterisation, Dr Aguilar herself is amazing - I don't quite understand, being a hopeless romantic myself, why I am drawn to this woman who has 'no time for love' and little time to be emotionally swayed by the horror of the children's tortured bodies. She is so far beyond the submissive sterotype of a Middle Eastern woman it seems to make perfect sense to put her into a doctor's role in the middle of the 12th century. She is fighting against prejudices that not even modern time can necessarily remedy, but of course as it is with the most admirable women of sense, strength and integrity guard inner empathy and vulnerable hope. And yes, for all the romanciphiles out there - there're a few heated moments for your imagination to enjoy.
For true lovers of crime fiction, some of the twists aren't all that surprising, but it'll still keep you entertained for long enough to see if you figured out the clues correctly. If you're not into crime fiction this doubles as a fantastic historical fiction novel as well - just don't take it too seriously. If you're a fan of neither genre, I still challenge you not to enjoy this book.
Yep, I gobbled this book up, and then licked each of my fingers afterwards. It's that good.
Rating: 5 perfectly scrumptious stars for Mistress of the Art of Death.
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I'm really pleased with my choice of stories lately. There haven't been any duds (well, not in the past week), and this one is another to add to the "gems of awesomeness" pile! Happy days.
It's been a while since I've been able to gorge myself on some good-quality YA dystopian fiction. I love dystopian fiction, I just tend to pass it by in favour of prettier-looking genres. But what I forget is how romantic dystopian fiction can be - how scary and thrilling it can be to have a totally dictated and uniform society, and then want to lay it to ruin.
But only when it exists in storybooks. In real life it inspires wars; class and racial and gender hatred. But in books, the battle is exciting.
In The Other Side of the Island, the world has been devastated by a major-scale disaster referred to as The Flood. Countries- no, continents, have been aggressively drowned and now can only exist as sea cities, Atlantis-style...if they exist at all.
We meet Honor at the tender age of 10, when she has moved with her parents to what I can only think of as a North American glass dome, Island 365, from another wilder geographical location suddenly deemed uninhabitable by the sole governmental power - the Corporation. Having been exposed to another part of the world outside the dome, Honor suffers for her and her parents' small inconformities on Island 365, and longs instead to be part of the conformist pack.
Years pass, as Honor strives to belong and is eventually accepted by Island 365. She forgets about her former life, and its dangerous reality of the world outside. It is only when her parents are 'taken', meaning they have been removed for their rebellion against the Earth Mother code, that Honor begins to remember her former life again, and to understand that ignorance is not necessarily bliss. And so, she sets out to uncover the mystery of her parents, at the risk of her life.
This is the author's first venture into Young Adult fiction, and I have to say I'm surprised at its confident mastery of the topic and its straightforward manner. This is the type of YA book I dream about being published. It's smart and sassy. It forces thoughtfulness in areas where there have been none, about the littler things we take for granted in this current world (I know there's a lot of bad stuff going on, but there's also a lot of positive, REAL stuff to be thankful for too).
Island 365 is a place where the citizens are complacent, pregnancy is regulated and maps of the world have been altered into a completely unreliable, fantasy structure. Literature is amended as propaganda and students are taught an alternate world history and future to save the 'natural' environment from further destruction. The book's general mood screams Brave New World rather than Nineteen Eighty-Four, though an invisible Big Brother-type structure does exist in the mysterious Earth Mother, the unseen head of the Corporation governing Island 365. References to the Earth Mother are common among the teachers of Island 365, and a portrait of the Earth Mother is present above the head of most family dinner tables in the area. I was impressed that the female author chose an outwardly matriarchal society rather than the usual Big Brother or Mustapha Mond patriarch head. In truth, the book's dictatorship is genderless - its leader ultimately a mechanism of the Corporation to control and to quash fear of external dangers.
The book is written with an edge - the society is not only believable - I, at times, found the society to be preferable. It's an impressive accomplishment for the author's ability to understand the internal struggle of Honor. Most dystopian fictions quickly alert the reader to the negative side of a strictly-controlled and operated society - but Honor's need for conformity echoes our own. I couldn't help but feel at times that maybe it WAS for the best that Honor forget about the "real world" which may still exist outside the dome. I became irritated with her parents for continually and deliberately putting post-it reminders in Honor's mind of the distant past. I even felt soothed by the evil teacher characters like Miss Blessing and her twisted conformist logic.
Despite its sinisterly persuasive and manipulative nature, The Other Side of the Island's message is, ultimately, one of hope. This book plays out a rebellion of the natural geography as Honor scales the island walls in search of an answer to her parents' disappearance. Parallel to this is Honor's scaling of the walls of her own mind, in the search for Truth.
The Truth is certainly out there - question is, do we want to know it?
Rating: 4 non-conformist stars for The Other Side of the Island.
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Aimee
said "yes" to attending the event: Interview & Contest with Paul Magrs.
date: November 12, 2009 07:00AM
location: Book Chick City, The United Kingdom
description: Today I have the pleasure in welcoming Paul Magrs, the author of the Brenda & Effie paranormal mystery series. I read and reviewed Conjugal Rites for my All Hallow's Eve event and absolutely loved it. My review of Hell's Belle's will be posted tomorrow.
I also have TWO copies (with SIGNED bookplate) of Hell's Belle's to giveaway courtesy of Headline Review!
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Before I dive headfirst into the book review, I would like to say a big thank you to Sarah Beth Durst, who sent a copy of Ice to me herself, when she heard about my interest in the novel. Thanks again, Sarah Beth!
Ice is a fairytale set in the real world Arctic snow. Cassie, an eighteen year old having grown up in an Arctic station with her scientist father, has long wanted to join him in the study of the movement of the majestic polar bear across the icy territory. When Cassie, however, meets the Polar Bear King, everything she knows about her world is shattered, as the fairytale she was told as a young girl to explain her mother's death becomes a reality. So that she can see her mother again, Cassie pledges herself as a wife to the powerful beast, much to her disgust and hatred of the position the white bear king has put her in. But his world is unlike anything she has ever experienced, and what she learns as a prisoner in his castle will change her forever.
How to best explain Ice? It's like a well-crafted and sturdily-built snowman. Each piece of the story is something recognisable in itself, but when put with other pieces transforms into something entirely different. On a snowman, a smoothed snowball becomes a head, twigs resemble arms, a carrot is transformed into a perfectly sinister nose. When you break Ice apart, piece by piece, you find its body derives from the classic fairytale East of the Sun, West of the Moon; its true love message is entirely reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast; and the cold beauty of the described environment can be recognised only in a European Winter fairytale like The Snow Queen.
When all these elements are cast back together, however, Ice becomes an original, beautiful tale of a young woman's sacrifice and the risks she takes for love.
Durst has been an entirely clever seamstress in writing this novel. Known modern science and the mysteries of a timeless magic are patterned beside one another as if they have always existed as a pair. In order for a reader to suspend disbelief, the author is usually required to shift the characters into an alternate universe for the magic to occur. But by choosing the widely unexperienced but very real arctic territory as the story's environment, Durst maintains the mysterious beauty of an ice-covered fantasy world as well as injecting science into the storyline to ground the tale in reality.
The book is also fiercely romantic, strangely real and not without moral purpose, read in the context of a frightening modern world facing the extinction of polar bears. The environmental element of this novel leaves its pawprint embedded in every chapter, but never seeks to overshadow the novel's first and foremost purpose, as a traditional-style fairytale.
This is a wonderful book for an impressionable girl to read- the writing is clear, not fanciful, and Cassie is an incredibly strong and passionate heroine. She bases her tough decisions on love and isn't afraid to voice her opinion even where it puts her in danger. Her resourcefulness, sense of adventure and fierce independence sets her apart from the everyday YA protagonist swooning over the first bite of love. Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, I am reminded of another strong-minded and resourceful protagonist when reading - Lyra Belacqua from Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials. The scene in book 1, Northern Lights where Lyra is on the back of the princely polar bear, the wind pulling at her hair and the northern lights ribboning through the sky - that intense freedom can be felt again upon reading Ice.
I was hoping to enjoy this fairytale, but I was emotionally moved by it as well. Polar bears are part of an icy royal court that may not be long for this world - it is incredibly sad to think that in all likelihood, the white bears will become a fairytale themselves before long. Prepare for the characters to gently slough about in your thoughts after you've turned the last page.
Being a frosty romance, I would recommend saving this book for a lonely rainy day where you can swamp yourself in cozy blankets and snuggle in with a cup of creamy and entirely satisfying hot chocolate.
And don't forget the marshmallows.
Rating: 4 frosty stars. ]]>