Book 46 - "'We'll give it tea-leaves next time. Carpets like tea-leaves.'"

Title: The Phoenix and the Carpet (1904)

Author: E. Nesbit

Why this book:
Nesbits's book, The Railway Children, was one of the mainstays of my childhood, but I'd never read any of her fantasy works before, so I thought I'd give it a go.

So what's it all about?
It's the school holidays, and one family of children are impatient for Guy Fawkes' night. They decide to light one or two fireworks in the girls' bedroom, accidentally setting the rug on fire when they do so. Their mother buys a new rug, a second-hand one which arrives containing an unusual, glowing egg. The egg hatches into a phoenix, which in turn tells them that the carpet it arrived in is, in fact, a magical carpet that will take them anywhere they want to go.



The children are no strangers to bizarre magical happenings, having previously encountered a wish-granting Psammead in the book *Five Children and It*, and are excited to be able to go off adventuring again. They quickly find, however, that the carpet has limitations, when it strands them in a tower in the middle of nowhere. And the phoenix, although an intelligent creature, has its own problems - it's egotistical, and has a habit of accidentally setting things on fire.

However, these problems are minor compared to the trouble the children face when their baby brother, nicnamed Lamb, crawls onto the carpet and flies away. It's hard enough hiding a phoenix and a rapidly deteriorating magical rug from their parents, without trying to explain why the baby has disappeared...

The Good and the Bad
This was, to me, a book which has badly dated. The actual adventures of the children, and even the children themselves, are fine - they're squabbly, at time bratty, but essentially goodhearted - but certain views of the writer (reflecting, I gues, societal views of the time) definitely overshadowed a lot of the fun of the book. Most notably, the racism inherent in the children's trips - one trip of theirs is to a tropical islnd, where the people are simply described as savages. Not only, in fact, are they savages who are given no traits beyond the (dark) colour of their skin, but when they meet the children's Cook, they immediately bow down and worship her as their queen, which made my teeth itch.

There's also the token bit of sexism, although no more than in most early twentieth century chilren's books. The two sisters, Anthea and Jane, are between them the kindest of the children, the only ones capable of sewing, the most easily frightened, and in need of male protection. They do, however, fully participate in all of the adventures, and since these traits are split between the two of them they aren't nearly as bad as, say, Anne from the Famous Five (who I love, but really, talk about overkill with the "feminine" qualities.)

So should I read it or what?
Once again I'm going to say read something of the author's, but not this book. The Railway Children, as I said, was an important part of my childhood, but as I haven't read it recently I can't really comment on whether the -isms are as bad there as they are here (although I suspect not). Most of Nesbit's works can be found here, at Project Gutenberg, and I do recommend checking them out.

Link of the day:

Book 43 - "One day a prince would come, even if Glenda had to drag him on a chain."

Title: Unseen Academicals (2009)
Author: Terry Pratchett

Why this book?
Because it's the latest in the Discworld series, of which I have read every single book. All 37 of them! I really like Terry Pratchett, OK.

So what's it all about?
Most of the Discworld books satirise or parody "round world" - real world - culture and history. Unseen Academicals is no different, taking on the grand English tradition of "foot-the-ball" - soccer, that is, not American football - and includes references to the historical banning of football, modern footballers with their model girlfriends, glamorous international players, and the bitter club rivals and fights between fans. As well as football, Pratchett plays with other topics which may be familiar to round-world readers - rivalries between universities, the stealing of intellectual property, and a Tolkeinesque orc who may be the last of his kind, and is sure he isn't a blood-thirsty as the legends say - well, mostly sure.

So: Unseen University, the home of the greatest wizards in Ankh-Morpork and therefore (as far as they're concerned) the world, have just discovered something rather horrifying: that unless they put together a football team, their funding is going to dry up. Therefore, they are charged not just with putting together a team, but with turning football into a game that isn't played in underground games by fifty-aside teams.

Below stairs at the University, large and practical Glenda - maker of fine pies - has always known where her place is (to whit: in the kitchen, making pies.) But when her friend, the beautiful and not-too-bright Jools drags her along to a fashion show and is suddenly being hounded by the press, Glenda starts to realise that times are changing, and that if Jools can become a model for a dwarfish fashion house, then maybe Glenda can also go on to bigger and brighter things?

Nobody knows where Mr Nutt came from, or what he is - not even Mr Nutt. But he's a very quick learner and an efficient worker, and when Trev drags him along to a football game he takes to it very quickly, and soon finds himself coaching the University team. Still, Mr Nutt is sure he must be carrying some dark secret; will letting it out hurt himself, and his new friends? Trev already has his own problems - he's fallen in love with Jools, even though they supports rival football teams. And even though Trev promised his Mum he'd never play football, not after the way his Dad died, he may be the only player capable of winning the game for the University without anyone else getting killed...

The Good and the Bad
It's kind of hard for me to be objective about anything Pratchett's written, mostly I'm a huge Pratchett fangirl, but also because I'm so familiar with his style, ideas, and characters that I find it difficult to think critically about them. I will say, though, that while I've been disappointed with a few of his more recent books (notably Thud and Making Money, both of which were readable but somewhat weaker than his usual fare) he's finally back on form. The ending was still a little weak, but it was in no way an anti-climax, nor did it ruin the rest of the book for me. I enjoyed both the new characters he introduced and the revisiting of the wizards - some of his oldest and most popular characters. His word-play and lengthy footnotes, for which he is renowned, were brilliant and hilarious - and the book is, overall, thoroughly enjoyable.

So should I read it or what?
Obviously I'm going to say "yes", but I would say that maybe this isn't the best book to start with if you're completely new to Pratchett. If you are new, then I'd suggest starting either with The Witches Abroad, which plays with fairytales and ideas of good and evil, or with Men at Arms which is a good introduction to the city of Ankh-Morpork where many of the Discworld books take place (and it also has most of my favourite characters in it!)

Irrelevant link of the day: Of all the literal music videos youtube has produced, this one for Take on me is still the greatest.

Book 42 - Queen Victoria: Demon Hunter (no seriously that's its name)

It's coming up one year since I started blogging. I've got ten weeks to blog the remaining 11 books. However, being the incredibly over-excited young person I am, I'm already planning a new reading challenge for my second year blogging. It'll involve a quick and dirty site revamp, a banner (I've been meaning to put one up for ages) and a new approach to the books I read. So what's the challenge for year two? I guess you could say that it's a mystery...

Meanwhile, how about a little historical fantasy?


Title: Queen Victoria: Demon Hunter (2009)

Author: A. E. Moorat

Why this book?:
Because it's called Queen Victoria: Demon Hunter. I mean, really.

So what's it all about?
In a somewhat alternate reality, the night that Victoria learns that the King is dead and she will soon be the Queen of England (and, you know, everywhere else) she is attacked by a succubus, her life saved by the mysterious Maggie Smith. Maggie, it seems, has a very particular role: protect the incumbent ruler from demon attack, and make sure that the Devil never gets to put a finger in the ruling pie. Needless to say, this comes as something of a shock to Victoria.

Her thoughts are soon directed elsewhere - to politics, of course, and to her country that may still follow France's example and revolt; but also to her cousin, Albert, with whom she has fallen hopelessly in love. The good news is that Albert loves her, too: the bad news is that he is almost certainly the son of a demon. The really bad news is that Victoria's parents aren't exactly who she thought they were, either, and Victoria and Albert, for all their good intentions, might just be a match made in hell...

The Good and the Bad
One of my friends called this book "a waste of a perfectly good title" and I am forced to reluctantly agree. It starts out very strongly, with prostitute-eating zombies and Victoria fighting for her life, but afterwards, when Victoria is learning how to Queen, as it were, and angsting over Albert, my interest waned, and not even a kidnapping and a werewolf attack could bring it back. I think the problem is that Moorat tries too hard to mingle fact with fiction - a lot of the incidents in the story did actually happen, but few of them are really that relevant to the plot and as a result the story continually builds up tension and then loses it again. Or perhaps it's simply Moorat's style - there were several high-action scenes where I ended up skipping ahead rather than impatiently reading every word to see what happened.

The other problem is that I found the supernatural elements weren't quite concrete enough - there was religion mixed in to them, with the idea of the anti-Christ and the devil, the dead walking the Earth, but I didn't really buy it, not without the other side of the battle for good and evil being mentioned as well - Victoria, as the head of the Chruch of England, surely would have considered where God and Jesus were in this equation. I know, I know, I'm probably demanding too much from a story about Queen Victoria fighting demons but I think it may have helped the story to be less muddled (and more interesting) if the pseudo-religious bits were left out.

Having said that, the book does have the occasional good joke:

"Amazed, Quimby looked at her, then gazed at her internal organs quivering on the boards. She had the body of a weak and feeble woman, he thought, distractedly, but she had the heart and stomach of, well, a seemingly invincible zombie."

So should I read it or what?
Enough one-liners to cause a chuckle, but not enough to save the book's confusing plot or bad pacing. I wouldn't recommend.

Link of the day: One of my favourites show ever ever, Never Mind the Buzzcocks.

Book 27 - The reformed vampire support group, or: "Being stuck indoors with the flu watching daytime television, forever and ever"

Vampires! They are pretty popular at the moment. Everywhere you go (if by "everywhere" you mean "the Young Adult section of bookstores") there they are, hangin' out, all, "Look how cool I am, I could drink your blood if I wanted to but I'm too cool for that! PS: I'm pretty sexy, unlike you. God, when did you last even wash your hair?" I may be projecting slightly.

I have to admit that I've never really got the whole vampire thing. That's not just a reaction to the recent surge in popularity, either; when I was thirteen or so I remember my friends reading a vampire series by Christopher Pike and being equally bemused. There are some exceptions: I loved the over-the-top pseudo-horror mess that was the Underworld movie. I also love Terry Pratchett's satirical take on vampires, who are far more style than substance and prefer to give up drinking blood for other, cleaner ways of gaining power of people. But when I saw this book I was immediately interested, since Catherine Jinks is a pretty talented author.



Title: The Reformed Vampire Support Group (2009)

Author: Catherine Jinks

Why this book?
Jinks wrote the amazing Pagan Chronicles, which was my sole food intake for like a year. She also wrote the pretty excellent Witch Bank. I was interested to see her take on vampires!

So what's it all about anyway?
Nina writes a popular vampire series, about the beautiful Zadia Bloodstone, crime-fighter extraordinaire. Secretly, Nina wishes she was just like Zadia Bloodstone, but she knows that it really is just a story. Real vampires aren't beautiful and strong: they're fragile, weak-willed, constantly sick and anti-social. Nina knows, because for the past thirty years she's been a vampire. And being stuck as a teenager forever isn't exactly fun.

Nina doesn't drink blood, either (at least, not human blood). She, along with the other members of Father Ramon's Reformed Vampire Support Group, have found other methods of coping with their problems. No attacking humans, that's one of their rules. So is not telling anyone what they are, because humans can be a bit - well - scared of vampires (although vampires are for the most part far more scared of them). But one member of their group isn't quite as dedicated to the cause as the others. That becomes apparent when they find him staked to death in his home.

Nina knows there is a slayer out there. And the group is sure that if they just talk to him (or her), he'll come to understand that vampires pose no real threat. But things are never quite that simple, and Nina and her friends suddenly find themselves in a world of underground werewolf fighting, deranged slayers, and vampires who really do think they can act like Zadia Bloodstone...

The Good and the Bad
This book should have been great - but I just couldn't get into it. The characters weren't quite engaging enough, the plot wasn't quite interesting enough, the pacing wasn't quite right - all in all, just not quite good enough. I actually really liked Nina, but since she was narrating the book it lost a lot of its suspense - you know the whole time nothing terrible is going to happen to her, because she's still alive (well, undead) at the end of the story to tell it, and I just couldn't work up enough enthusiasm about the other characters to care if any of them exploded in the sun or were eaten by werewolves or what have you. A disappointing read, overall.

So, should I read it or what?
It's pretty hard to make a story about people who eat hamsters bland, but somehow Catherine Jinks managed it. Not recommended.

Later this week, probably: Teen detectives, 70's style!

Link of the day: Top Ten 15 Saved By the Bell moments, because the 90's haven't really died yet.

The Friday Babble: Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

I'm going away this weekend - flying down south this very evening! Now, to the majority of my readers, 'down south' means, 'to a warmer climate'. Sadly, when you live in the Southern Hemisphere, the further south you get the greater your chances of freezing to death are. My luggage is almost entirely packed with thermal underwear and woolen clothing, but if you never hear from me again it will mean there is a new, somewhat attractively-shaped icicle somewhere in the heart of Dunedin, New Zealand.

Dunedin is where I went to university, by the way. The student flats there are renowned for their shittiness, and generally it was a good five degrees colder inside your room than it was outside in the fresh air. Generally you got at least one text every day from a friend which simply read, "Fk its cld." It wasn't that we were deeply invested in using abbreviations in our SMSs, it was because it was so fucking cold we couldn't move our fingers.

I remember those years fondly.

Anyway, returning to the place where I (mis)spent my youth - or as one friend endearingly nicknamed it, "that shithole" - has made me think about books where winter, especially winters of ice and snow, play a particular role. Traditionally, winter is seen as a bad time, which is pretty understandable. Winter was for a long time - and still is, for many people - the time of year where you can't simply live, but must try to survive; there was no work and no income, no fresh food, and families had to try and keep themselves and their animals alive until spring. If you wandered outside and a snowstorm hit, you were a gonna. Grim stuff, I know. And people still seem to have a deep distrust of winter, even people who can afford gas-fires and insulation and snowmobiles and a sexy wool hats with a pompom at the top.

So, here are some books where winter is more than mere scenery. If you do reside in the Northern Hemisphere I know this may seem a little unseasonable, but I guess you could always save this post and come back and look again in six months' time.


Title: Hatchet Winter (1996)
aka Brian's Winter and Hatchet: WInter
Author: Gary Paulsen
Gary Paulsen wrote a book called "Hatchet", about a boy named Brian who finds himself alone in the Canadian wilderness after the plane he's on crash-lands. It's a pretty thrilling book, all about how he learns to survive - forage for food, build his own shelter, protect himself from wild animals, etc etc. Since it's a children's book, it ends with the kid getting rescued.

But a lot of people wrote to Paulsen saying, "Surviving in the summer is all very well, but how would Brian have coped with the freezing winter temperatures?" In response, he produced Hatchet Winter, in which the boy was never rescued and is stuck for the winter. Brian's chances of survival suddenly get a lot slimmer. Also, he's attacked by a bear! Awesome.


Title: Child-44 (2008)
Author: Tom Rob Smith
As well as cannibalism there was a hell of a lot of snow. Are there any Russian novels in which there isn't any fucking snow?



Title: Moominland Midwinter (1957)
Author: Tove Jansson
Finally, a story where snow is actually seen as being kinda cool! No pun intended. Moomins always hibernate over winter, but this year Moomintroll just can't get to sleep. Instead he discovers everything there is to know about this mysterious time of the year - he learns to ski, he learns to ice fish and he meets the Dweller Under the Sink; but he also discovers there is a dark side to winter, and that death befalls anyone who meets the Lady of the Cold...


Title: The Snow Queen (1845)
Author: Hans Christian Andersen
I loved this story as a kid, partly because it is a fairytale in which a girl rescues a boy and not the other way around, but also because it is one of the few of Andersen's stories which actually has a happy ending. Seriously, the first time I read the original ending to The Little Mermaid I nearly had a heart-attack. It was also the start of my long-term vendetta against Disney, but that's another story.

Anyway, it's a beautiful story, and as a child I completely missed the religious overtones (for instance, Gerda says the Lord's Prayer to enter the Snow Queen's palace - I don't think I even knew what the Lord's Prayer was when I first read that.) It did give me the lasting impression that Europe is a terrifyingly cold place, though.


Title: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (1950)
Author: C. S. Lewis
First of all, you know that atrocious movie version of this book that came out a few years ago? We're not going to talk about it. We're especially not going to talk about how badly they raped Prince Caspian which I'm pretty sure they did just to piss me off.

Anyway, I love the Narnia series and I love this book. Even the overt symbolism of Aslan (aka as my homeboy, Jesus) bringing spring to the wintery land of Narnia which has been overtaken by the evil White Witch does nothing to diminish my love for it. I reread the whole series about once a year (except for The Last Battle, sorry) and it still continues to amaze me.

Although my seven-year-old self was really confused by the concept of "Always winter, but never Christmas!" Christmas happens in the middle of summer and anyone who says otherwise is wrong.


Um.

In conclusion, I think what we have all learned today is that winter is a terrible time, brought about by evil women who enjoy making small children suffer. Winter may very well kill you, unless you are a small Finnish troll or happen to have an ax handy.

An important lesson for us all.

The Afterdark Princess, or: The BSC wishes they were this awesome

OK, so I realise I was kind of ranty last post! Not that I don't stand by my rants, but I realise it probably isn't the easiest thing in the world to actually read. No worries, though, to divert my attention from the research proposal I'm supposed to be working on, here is a short and sweet book rec.

Incidentally, I don't like this cover nearly as much as the one I had as a kid. A dude on a staircase isn't nearly as cool as a picture of a bunch of people in a forest being mysterious and badass.


Title: The Afterdark Princess (1990)

Author: Annie Dalton

You've read this before, haven't you? Only probably a hundred times! My primary (elementary) school had a copy which I read over and over again. Needless to say I was pretty stoked when I recently rediscovered it at a used book stall.

What's it all about, anyway?
Joe Quail isn't a very happy kid. His mum worries about him too much, he has nightmares every night, he's useless at everything and he's getting bullied at school. He hates everything and everyone - especially his neighbours, Kit and Maisy. When his mother leaves him with Kit and Maisy under the charge of the world's most perfect baby-sitter, Alice Fazackerly, he knows he's going to hate her too.

But Alice isn't just a baby-sitter. She's also the last princess of the Kingdom of Afterdark, and her kingdom is currently under attack from Cosmo, the Emperor of Nightfall. Joe doesn't want anything to do with sorcery and danger, but when Alice and Kit are kidnapped he reluctantly realises that he's the only one who can do anything about it.

Joe battles trolls and dragons, defeats a monster in a dungeon, and finally climbs up the long, high Shining Stair to face Cosmo, and he comes to realise that in Afterdark nothing is as it seems - not Alice, not Joe, and not even the Emperor of Nightfall...

So what's so great about it then, huh?
It's a kids' fantasy story about a magical world where you can become the person you've always wanted to be. And it also throws in a few important lessons, about how it's important to get to know people before you decide whether you like them or not. What's not to like?

More about this series: Actually, I didn't even know it was a series until I bought this newer edition - the one held at my primary school didn't mention the fact, and I never thought to look before! I haven't read any of the sequels yet, but they are The Dream Snatcher (1998), The Midnight Museum (2001) and The Rules of Magic (2004). Needless to say I'm going to take them out from my local library as soon as my holidays start!

Book 13 - Bloodhound

Not-even-slightly-related link of the day: Questionable Content. A webcomic about music, love, and tiny, cute, sociopathic robots. About as addictive as a soap opera and occasionally as dramatic as one, but usually pretty funny and always entertaining.

And now, to business. I only have one assignment left to write, and miraculously I actually had time over the weekend to read something that wasn't an article on online bibliographical exhibitions (don't ask). Ergo, today I can actually write up a post! Huzzah! PS: I know, I totally abuse the word "actually". Just think of it a charming personality quirk.



Title: Bloodhound (2009)

Author: Tamora Pierce

Why this book?
So when I was about thirteen all my friends started reading Tamora Pierce's Song of the Lioness quartet. It didn't sound that great to me - a girl disguising herself as a boy to be trained as a knight sounded kind of clichéd, and I just wasn't interested. But then I discovered First Test, about the first girl to train as a knight as a girl, which sounded much better. I read it, and was instantly hooked, to the point that I immediately read all the rest of her books set in the realm of Tortall - and then everything else she'd written that I could get my hands on, including the recent White Tiger miniseries she co-authored for Marvel (which is excellent, by the way, and I highly recommend it to you even if comics aren't your thing). In 2006 she published Terrier, the first in a series set 500 years before Song of the Lioness. Bloodhound is the second in the series.

What's it all about anyway?
In Terrier, Beka Cooper was a trainee member of the Provost's Guard (kind of like the police) With her ability to hear the dead speaking and an unquenchable thirst for justice, she helped to bring down the child-murdering 'Shadow Snake'. Now she's a proper Guardswoman - one who is unable to hold down a partner. She's not the only member of the Watch to have that problem, though; Achoo, a scent hound (think sniffer dog) is having the same problem - worse, in fact, since Achoo is being abused by her handler. Beka takes over, and together her and Achoo make a formidable pair.

Meanwhile, there's a big problem facing Tortall; someone is circulating fake silver coins, and in very large numbers. Coupled with a bad harvest, this sends food prices rocketing, and a riot breaks out when the price of bread doubles. The money forging is traced to the city of Port Caynn, and that's where Beka is sent to investigate - along with Achoo, of course, and Guardswoman Goodwin, one of Beka's mentors. Beka enjoys herself immensely in Port Caynn, especially when handsome young gambler Dale starts to flirt with her.

Beka's investigations are putting her in some serious danger - not just from Port Caynn's criminals, but from its Provost's Guards as well. Beka knows she's in trouble when she's being hunted by both the menacing Pearl Skinner and her own fellow Guardsmen - but she's not going to let a little thing like that stand in her way of discovering the truth...

The Good and the Bad
As usual, Pierce has written a fantastic adventure story - and as usual I couldn't put it down. One of the things I love about this series in particular is that because it's set in Tortall's 'past', Pierce is able to slip in hints of how society changes between Beka's time and the events of the Song of the Lioness. In Terrier, it's mentioned that the slave trade is losing popularity. This time, we see the beginnings of the religious movement which is the start of the end of Lady Knights.

In Pierce's previous Tortall series, each of the female heroes were pitted against various evils, but each book built up to the final showdown against a powerful male villain - Alanna had Duke Roger, Daine had Emperor Ozanne, and Kel had... that sorceror whose name I've forgotten. Each of these villains has power from their magical abilities and from their societal status. In Bloodhound, as in Terrier, we're given different types of villains - women, who have no social status, who've gained what power they've had entirely from their own actions. They make the perfect antagonists to Beka, who like them has no social status, and who also has got where she is almost entirely by her own actions.

Like Terrier, Bloodhound is written in 'diary' format - and I just don't think that Pierce manages it entirely convincingly. For instance, writing in her usual third-person limited narrative, it would be fine to have the narrative explain the the Black God's priests wore veils to cover their faces, but it feels unnatural for a character to be explaining something like that in their own diary. It's a well-known fact as far as Beka is concerned - why would she feel the need to explain it in a diary which presumably only she is ever going to see?

I also felt that the writing around Okha, a trans* character, was weak. Shortly after meeting Beka, Okha tells her her whole life story, and it felt very much like Pierce was telling Okha's life story - would someone who has been hurt as much as Okha have really be so quick to trust a stranger? It did feel more than a little shoehorned. At the same time, it meant that Okha was explicitly trans* - and a protagonist, too. That doesn't exactly happen very often in popular YA fantasy.

So should I read it or what?
I have pretty high expectations of Tamora Pierce and I wish she would return to her old narrative style - it suits her writing so much better! But I still enjoyed Bloodhound and I'm still going to go ahead and recommend it. I'm already looking forward to the next Beka Cooper book, Elkhound.

And for extra credit: Tamora Pierce's webpage

Book 9 - Rapunzel's Revenge, or: Punzie, your Mum's a total bi- witch.

Not particularly related link of the day: The Agatha Christie Reading Challenge Carnival. Read, enjoy, join in!

And now, to business: I know I said I was trying to keep this place manga- and comics-free, but this book is a graphic novel, which is technically different. Possibly. Anyway, I don't really care, because it was too awesome to not blog about.



Title: Rapunzel's Revenge (2008)

Authors: Shannon and Dean Hale

Illustrator: Nathan Hale

Why this book? I was looking for Wonder Women comics in my local bookstore and found this instead.

What's it all about anyway? Rapunzel lives in a grand villa with her mother, and her mother's servants. Surrounding her mother's villa is a wall so high it's impossible for Rapunzel to climb - which is just as well, as she has an adventurous spirit her mother clearly doesn't approve of. Rapunzel knows there's some kind of mystery surrounding her, and is sure that if she could just see over the wall she'd know what it was. But when she finally manages make her way to the other side of the wall, she realises her whole world is based on a lie - and her so-called mother's punishment is severe. Rapunzel gets hidden away in the middle of a magical forest, unable to escape from the high-up, empty tree trunk she is trapped in.

...Until the magic of the forest causes her hair to grow alarmingly long. Rapunzel begins to braid it, to use it to keep herself entertained - it can be a jump-rope, a swing, a lasso - and eventually, it's long enough for her to use it to escape. She makes her way to the nearest village, and instantly finds herself in a spot of trouble when she helps a cross-dressing barmaid out during a fight. The barmaid turns out to be a boy named Jack, who's hiding a secret or two as well as his real gender - like why, exactly he's travelling across the land with a goose named Goldy, and why he has - of all things! - a lucky bean.

With Jack as her guide, Rapunzel starts to make her way back towards her false mother's villa, and discovers that her name - Mother Gothel - is known and hated far and wide. Mother Gothel has become the number one cause of deforestation, tearing up the land in order to increase the size of her own empire. Rapunzel becomes intent on revenge, not just for her own sake, but for the sake of every other family that Mother Gothel has destroyed.

The Good and the Bad
This isn't just a retelling of a fairytale; this is the retelling of a fairytale as a Western! So there's tavern brawls, sheriffs, posses, quick-drawing, desert hermits, travelling thespians and unironic use of the "tarnation". I mean, I'm not exactly a huge Western fan, but what isn't there to love about turning possibly the most passive fairytale heroine of all time into a wandering, cowgirl adventurer? (Now, if only the same could be done to Cinderella, preferably without Drew Barrymore's involvement).

Rapunzel herself is wonderful: naive, but quick-witted and clever. Jack is a perfect sidekick; loyal, charming, knowledgeable where Rapunzel is not, not quite as good at scheming as she is - in fact, he's better described as a partner than a sidekick, because although Rapunzel is undoubtedly the leader of the two they have a lovely, equitable relationship. Jack is no all-conquering Prince Charming, but the Hales didn't go the other way and turn him into a damsel in distress, either. And yes, in case you need it spelled out for you, he is the Jack of beanstalk fame, out looking for gold to rebuild his house after he ran into some, er, trouble with a few giants.

The art is lovely. It's not overly stylised and it's not too cartoonish. There's still the right amount of the fantastical in it to remind you that yes, this is still a fairytale, without it becoming whimsical. I hate it when artists essentially just draw the same character over and over, with slightly different hairstyles and clothes so you can tell them apart; but Hale doesn't do that - each individual character actually has their very own facial features, which is, you know, how people actually look.

On the downside? Once or twice you're hit by an authorial message so blatantly that you might as well have had a brick thrown at your head. Particularly obvious is Rapunzel saying, after she's averted a would-be murderer:

"I was noticing how without guns in their hands most people around here turned pale."

It doesn't seem so bad out of context, but in context this line sticks out like a sore thumb - particularly since this is a Western. People are going to have guns. Yes, I'm pleased that neither Rapunzel nor Jack carry one, but I can tell when someone is not-very-subtly trying to tell me that Guns Are Bad and it really irritates the hell out of me.

So should I read it or what?
I loved it, and it's readable enough that even if you're not usually into graphic novels you'd probably enjoy it. Here's hoping the Hales team up to make another one!

Incidentally, Shannon Hale is a fairly-well established writer of young adult fantasy - check out her site here.

Conrad's Fate, or: The foolish man builds his house upon a crack in reality

You may notice I've done a little redecorating! The black background was giving me flashbacks to my late teens when I thought dying my hair black and getting umpteen piercings was daring and subversive. OK, so I still have the piercings, but I have come to accept my completely average brown hair actually rather suits me. Where was I? Oh, right! Slightly new colour scheme, which will hopefully make this blog a little easier to read. Expect me to fiddle with it several more time before I'm finally happy with it. I'm trying not to give in to my inner 6-year-old Disney Princess and change the whole thing to varying shades of pink, but I'm not making any promises.

There are many unanswered questions in this world. Why is it still unacceptable for science fiction to be someone's genre of choice? How is it that the Twilight movie was actually superior to the book? Where was that stooped and mealy-colored old man I used to call Poppa when the merry-go-round broke down? And how does Diana Wynne Jones, one of the best writers of children's fantasy - of any fantasy - alive today, continue to fly under most people's radars when she's been writing her amazing books for four decades?

This rec is dedicated to Jen, who apparently prefers wizards to cannibals.

Title: Conrad's Fate (2005)

Author: Diana Wynne Jones

You've read this before, haven't you? Guilty as charged! This was the first book I read in Jones' Chrestomanci series, and remains my favourite, although The Pinhoe Egg has to be a close second. I still remember how disappointed I was when I discovered that Conrad didn't really feature in any other books, although I live in hope that he'll make a reappearance someday!

What's it all about, anyway? Conrad lives with his mother, a distant parent and unsuccessful feminist writer, and his uncle, an amateur magician, above the family's bookshop. Conrad's elder sister used to single-handedly hold the family together, but after she left for university her responsibilities all fell to the much younger Conrad. Conrad means to follow his sister's footsteps and get out of Dodge, but his uncle has quite different ideas.

Someone up at Stallery Mansion is pulling the possibilities - making small changes which result in quite unexpected happenings. Sometimes the postboxes change colour; sometimes Conrad's favourite series of books has a completely new set of stories. Conrad's uncle explains that Conrad has terribly bad kharma because of something he did - or perhaps didn't do - in a past life. But he can avoid his own bad fate if he finds and kills whoever is pulling the possibilities.

Conrad isn't exactly enamoured with the idea of having to murder someone, but despite his best efforts he finds himself chosen as a new boot boy at Stallery Mansion, along with the superior and mysterious Christopher Smith. Conrad quickly realises he's not the only one with a hidden agenda, as Christopher reveals he's really there to find his friend Millie, who is lost somewhere inside the mansion.

Conrad and Christopher realise that Millie's disappearance is somehow related to the possibility pulling, and become allies in their search for answers and in their efforts to avoid Mr Amos, their boss. They discover that from within the mansion it's possible to make your way to a number of other worlds, each full of the ruins of other buildings. As Conrad gets closer to discovering just who is behind all this chaos, he reunites with his sister, Anthea; comes face-to-face with several ill-intentioned witches and a lively troop of actors; and discovers the truth behind the Stallery's noble family - and his own.

So what's so great about it then, huh? What I like about this book is essentially what I love about all of Jones' books - the way she crafts her stories, seemingly effortlessly, so that even apparently minor details are revealed to have significance in the book's conclusion, and so that every thread of the story is neatly tied into place before it is finished. She often gives us what I think of as a Grand Finale, with all the major and minor characters gathered in one place so that all their various secrets can finally come out, and the reader can finally make sense of all the hints they've been given. Jones is also Queen of Happy Endings - in her stories, everything always turns out OK, but without it feeling forced or false. Her books are simple enough that children can read them and enjoy them, but not so simple that adults can't love them too.

More about this series: The Chrestomanci series follows Christopher Chant, a nine-lifed enchanter, and his apprentice, Cat. The books in this series take place in various times in Christopher's life (and in a number of different worlds!) so that the chronological order of the books isn't necessarily the best order to read them in. The best place to start is with Charmed Life, in which the apparently talentless orphan Cat and his older sister Gwendolen are taken in by the people of Chrestomanci Castle, where (of course!) nothing is as it seems. Having said that, I read the books in neither chronological nor reading order and I thoroughly enjoyed them all anyway!

And if Chrestomanci doesn't sound like your thing, you might try the Castle series (the first of which is the much-loved Howl's Moving Castle) which puts a new spin on well-known situations from fairytales; or the Dalemark Quartet, which follows the journey of four different children as they overcome great odds to defeat the evil forces at work in the land of Dalemark.

Book 4 - The Graveyard Book

I've got a bit of a love-hate relationship going on with Neil Gaiman. I mean, not on a personal level. I don't know the guy, although I've heard he's followed around by screaming hordes of young, lithe women who want to have his slightly geeky literary babies. (This might be a slight exaggeration.)

No, my problem with Gaiman is that he seems to have women issues - sometimes. My two favourite books of his are both children's books, Coraline and MirrorMask, and both have the kind of capable female protaganists that I hope to offer to my future godchildren as the people they should grow up to be like. But both stories also feature mother-figure antagonists - dark parodies of the girls' real mothers - intent on keeping the girls as their own daughter-possessions. Does Mr Gaiman have mother issues? I've had some professional training in this area (at least, I once sat in on my friend's Psych 101 class) and I'm going to go ahead and say yes.

Then there's the women in his books for adults. The three most memorable women in American Gods are a goddess who works as a prostitute, Shadow's wife, who dies will giving his best friend a BJ, and Bast, who spends most of her time as a cat, only turning into a woman at night... in order to sleep with Shadow. And let's not even talk about Gaiman's short story reimagining of Narnia (I shall never think of Aslan the same way again).

For those of you playing at home, that's a tick for "sex issues" and a tick for "mother issues". Freud would be having a field day.

Despite all that, I do enjoy Gaiman's work, and considering that The Graveyard Book was about a child-orphan-protagonist I was interested to see how he'd break from his usual Oedipal mould. I'm glad that I did.

Title: The Graveyard Book (2008)

Author: Neil Gaiman

Why this book?
I got if for Christmas!

What's it about, anyway?
A baby boy's entire family is slaughtered one night but the baby boy escapes by crawling to a nearby graveyard. The people of the graveyard - its ghosts, and other members of the, uh, non-living community - adopt the baby, naming him Nobody, or Bod, for short.

Bod has a surprisingly idyllic childhood, watched over by his adoptive ghost parents and his guardians, Silas and Miss Lupescu. He makes friends with the ghost-children, and with Scarlett Perkins, one of the first live people he has contact with. As he grows, however, he struggles with the fact that as someone who is not yet dead he can not really be part of the graveyard's world; but as a human boy growing up among ghosts he can never be quite normal to those who are still alive.

Bod's adoptive family try to shield him from the harsh realities of the world, but his own curiosity drives him to try to discover who killed his parents, and why. The words "thrilling conclusion" could definitely be used here, and entirely without irony.

The good and the bad:
For the most part, this book was what I've come to expect (and love!) from Gaiman - the story is both quirky and chilling, at times light-hearted and at times pretty dark. Bod's encounter with the Sleer, an ancient underground monster, had me on the edge of my seat, as did his imprisonment by a living store-owner. All the characters were well-drawn, from Bod himself to the schoolyard bully, to Scarlett and her mother, to the Man Jack, Bod's family's murderer. Liza Hempstock, the ghost of a witch who was not buried in consecrated ground, is a particular treat.

I raced through most of the book in an ohgodwhathappensnext manner, but its conclusion stuck out rather uncomfortably for me. Scarlett, horrified at the way Bod has dealt with his family's killer, has her memories taken from her so that she will not only not remember the events that have transpired, but will forget Bod himself. This is more about Bod than it is about Scarlett - he behaves in a way that the people of the graveyard would completely condone, but which the living find positively inhuman. But the idea of taking away someone's memories is, to me, too much like assault - they're pretty much stealing part of Scarlett's self by doing so.

Then again, it could just be that I still haven't recovered from that episode of Doctor Who where the Doctor does exactly the same thing. Just thinking about it still makes me mad. >:(

So should I read it or what?
While Coraline remains my favourite Gaiman book (and probably one of my all time favourite books, period) The Graveyard Book is a fantastic read, and I didn't notice Gaiman's Oedipal complex at all. This one is definitely with a read - but don't just take my word for it! The ALA awarded it the 2009 Newbury Award, past winners of which include Louis Sachar's Holes and the excellent Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine.

Books 1, 2 and 3 - the Earthsea Trilogy

To start off this blog with a bang I give you not one, not two, but three books! OK, they're all part of the same series, but they still totally count.

image from: http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/images/c0/c563.jpg

Title: A Wizard of Earthsea (1968)
The Tombs of Atuan (1971)
The Farthest Shore (1972)

Author: Ursula K. Le Guin

Why this book?
Le Guin's trilogy (OK, it's not a trilogy any more, but it began as one!) is one of the foundation stones of modern fantasy. As an avid fantasy-reader, I thought it was about time to find out what exactly it was that makes her books so good.

What's it about, anyway?
A Wizard of Earthsea kicks of the series with the story of Duny, a young boy who accidentally discovers he has a strong gift for magic. When his talents exceed those of his aunt, the local witch, he becomes apprentice to Ogion, a wizard, and gets a new name - Sparrowhawk. Sparrowhawk proves to be very ambitious, and leaves his master for a school for wizards, where he only becomes more arrogant. Eventually, his arrogance lets loose a spirit on the world, and kills the school's Archmage. Sparrowhawk loses his confidence entirely, but gradually comes to realise that he will have to face the spirit if he is ever to be made whole again.

The second book, The Tombs of Atuan, focuses on a girl, Tenar, who is named at a young age to be the reincarnation of a high priestess. Her position is a lonely one, and as she is often trying to avoid or ignore the cruel plots and cold political manoerves of the other priestesses, she has little understanding of human kindness. When she meets Ged - Sparrowhawk - at first she plans to kill him, until her own interactions with him lead her to instead contemplate leaving her lonely existence.

Finally, The Farthest Shore sees Sparrowhawk as Archmage, now a wise and mature man, who must deal with a crisis facing the whole of Earthsea - that magic is beginning to fade. Assisted by a young prince, Arren, Sparrowhawk sets out on a journey to find the source of magic's destruction. Ged's journey from boy to young man is paralleled here by Arren's, while Sparrowhawk's role is more of a mentor - like that of Ogion's. Eventually, Sparrowhawk and Arren journey right into the land of the dead to defeat their foe.

The good and the bad:
Le Guin is nothing if not a compelling story teller. All three books are beautifully written, and her world-building is superb. Her three protagonists - Ged, Tenar and Arren - are well-drawn, and their character development throughout each book is gradual and believable.

However, while I enjoyed all three books they are not without their faults. My biggest problem is with Le Guin's treatment of women. Female characters are frequently conniving, devious, power-hungry; women magic-users are seen as inferior to men. While Ged and Arren both have their 'mentors', Tenar has no similar female role model, and it is not without Ged's help that she is able to escape her fate. Having said that, this gender power imbalance is something that Le Guin herself recognises. In Tehanu: The Last Book of Earthsea, which I have yet to read, she does her best to address the inequalities that exist in her world.

So should I read it or what?
If you're not into fantasy, then these books are definitely not for you. If you are, then I highly recommend both A Wizard of Earthsea and The Tombs of Atuan. The Farthest Shore was less compelling - too similar in overall feeling to A Wizard of Earthsea for me to really enjoy it. But hey, if you read and love the first two, it's probably worth giving it a go!