For Review: Monsters of Men ~ Patrick Ness

It is finished. That is it. All done. Three books makes a trilogy, I suppose. My first trilogy, and I have to say that I enjoyed the experience immensely. From one book, straight to the next, then the horrible wait for a week for the third to show in the post. My heart wants so much for there to be a fourth, just to know... This might just be me gushing about the Chaos Walking trilogy, but it has to be said how excited and enthralled and deeply involved I was in New World, for those three books.

So Monsters of Men, moving on from The Ask and the Answer, and the whole of New World is at war, from three opposing sides. Todd and Viola find themselves apart in the town, but growing emotionally estranged too as they try to figure our their place in the war, and the alliances that go with it. At the centre of the novel is the war itself - why did it start, does it have to happen, what can be done? All questions relevant of any war. More than that, through Todd, Viola, and those around them, Ness explores the possibilities of what humanity can accomplish through desire and passion. In Monsters of Men, it isn't a pretty sight. At the heart of all these askings, there are the ideas of peace and victory, perhaps more complicated that at first seems.

The tensions from the previous novels really come to a head here, but there's none of that saccharine over-explanation that tends to find itself at the end of young adult novels/series. Of course, some questions are answered, but others only touched upon or hinted at. Ness isn't pressing with the sentiments he wants his readers to feel, and I imagine my thoughts and feelings for certain characters and events differ from the next reader. That's what makes the Chaos Walking trilogy so brilliant - Ness' ability to create such a compelling story, but allowing the reader explore and make their own judgements.

There are layers upon layers to the story and, in this final installment, the inclusion of the voice of one of the Spackle natives. Throughout the trilogy, Todd and Viola both do a great deal of growing up, emotionally, mentally, and physically. Reading Todd's narration in Monsters of Men is such a different experience from that in The Knife of Never Letting Go. It's a change that keeps him distant in places, a change that Viola herself has noticed, but it's still Todd. The recognition of that difference, of what it means to Todd and his mind and his character, is quite heartbreaking in places. The result is a narrative that twists and connects like a plait, that comes together in a denouement that (and Ness has bad habit of doing this to me) moved me beyond tears. I cried, and I laughed, and I cried, and I laughed. The whole everything of the three books, of Todd and Viola's journey together, was just so beautiful and perfect.

While I recognise that this might not really count as a review (because those things are usually more measured), the reader in me feels the need to impress everyone with just how great the Chaos Walking books are. Like I said back in my review for The Knife of Never Letting Go, I haven't been so excitable about a book for a very long time. So for now, I will allow myself that shameless childlike glee and continue, as I have done a few times in the past couple of weeks to say, "Can I please just tell you about these books that I've been reading, the Chaos Walking trilogy, and tell you that they are the most amazing thing?"

Walker Books, 2010;
Paperback;
624 pages.

For Review: The Burgess Boys ~ Elizabeth Strout

Reading about middle aged, middle class Americans always fascinates me - I've met many people from all over the world, but no middle-aged, middle-class Americans. From the literature I've read of such families, I have reason to believe that they are all deeply unsatisfied and a bit weird. Like I say, that's millions of people in the world that are alien to me, because I've only read about them in books. The Burgess Boys is one such novel.

Bob and Jim Burgess are two very different men, the former being soft, thoughtful, and lonely, and the latter charismatic, successful, and well-loved. The story starts when their nephew (son of their sister Susan) runs into some trouble, involving a pig's head and mosque. The sleepy town of Shirley Falls is trying to understand the new Somali population, while lawyer Jim tries to keep his nephew on the right side of the law. That's a start, but there's Jim's relationship with his wife Helen, Bob's relationship with his ex-wife Pam, relationships with siblings, and daughters and sons. Which is all complex, and authentic, and fine. But then there are pages about minor characters, sharing their view on the story for a few paragraphs, but never again returned to. The Burgess Boys is a densely populated novel, with lots of little strands of things going on, some of which didn't seem to need to be there.

That Strout is such a well-credited author makes sense; there were some poignant moments of insight in this story, and well put. Much of the description focuses on place, but it's important to do so in a Maine versus New York tale. The Burgess Boys was a smooth read, even at the most complex of places. Complex, in terms of plot, theme, and character. While I could tell you which characters I preferred over others, Strout offers a cast that are capable of being disgusting one moment, sympathetic the next, likeable on the next page, and just weird on the next, meaning that at the end there are no favourites.

The Burgess Boys was interesting but, with so much going on, I never felt that I had enough time with one character to be really invested in their particular storyline. The plots and the characters are all very normal and relatively straight forward, but Strout manages them in a way that is worthy of reading.

Thanks to Simon & Schuster for a review copy of this book, 2013;
Hardback;
320 pages.

For Review: The Ask and the Answer ~ Patrick Ness

Less than a week from the last review, and I've read my way through Chaos Walking book number two. I'm finding time for it among the exhausting business that is my final placement of my PGDE. Really, these books are that good.

So, from last time, Todd and Viola are still in New Prentisstown, but find themselves separated. Todd is being kept by the Mayor (now President), why Viola finds herself part of a mysterious house of healing with Mistress Coyle. Neither of them have the opportunity to see each other following strict regimes in the town - curfews, rations, rules about when women are allow to leave the home.

Without unpacking the story more, this novel deals with the idea of free will - both Todd and Viola feel that they are pressured into the various roles that they take, but are they really? And when they think they're making choice about what they're doing, how much of their 'choice' is designed by a tyrant leader? They're both thrown into scenarios where they have to very quickly choose to trust, or not trust, and getting it wrong can have horrible consequences (including the death of one individual, or a whole group).

New Prentisstown fast becomes a politically complicated dystopia, while Todd and Viola are also moving quickly through their own coming of age. Because of their parallel storylines, Todd and Viola give both their points of view, and it was interesting to read things from both sides, especially towards the end.

The end, and I don't have Monsters of Men yet. I ordered it online, thinking it would arrive once I had finished The Ask and the Answer but...it hasn't so I have to wait, and this is proving painful. Ness is very good at this writing, storytelling thing. He's also very capable of making me cry.

It's not that you should never love something so much it can control you.

          It's that you need to love something that much so you can never be controlled. 

Walker Books; 2009;
Paperback;
517 pages

For Review: The Knife of Never Letting Go ~ Patrick Ness

I'm not a trilogy person - don't think I've read all of anything that is part of a three. Definitely not a series person (Harry Potter and Narnia are my exceptions). Apparently, this has changed. Today I finished reading The Knife of Never Letting Go and I was so beyond myself when it was over, that five minutes later I was heading to the nearest bookshop to buy the next book. I nearly didn't, because I'm on a Book Buying Ban this year, but my boyfriend gave me permission to break it this time because, as he says, "I haven't seen you so excitable about a book in ages."

This all happened earlier today, and I'm already 1/5 of my way through The Ask and the Answer. The excitement comes from a story about Todd, who is nearly a man. He's not sure what happens on this thirteenth birthday to make him a man, but that's the way it goes. However, he's the last boy in Prentisstown. There are no women, and therefore no more children. The women were wiped out years ago, leaving the men and their Noise. The Noise is that horrific thing that no one ever wants to have to live with ever - that every single thing you think in your head is entirely audible to everyone else and, in turn, you can hear everyone else's Noise too. One day, Todd stumbles across a hole in the Noise, a silence that he doesn't understand. The discovery leads to the Mayor of Prentisstown dragging an army across the whole of New World to find him.

But it's a big, violent world out there, as Todd, his gorgeous doggy Manchee, and Viola (a girl that he finds at somepoint - I can't really write the review without mentioning here, but I won't say when she appears) soon learn. The Knife of Never Letting Go is told by Todd's narration, and he has to contend with his thoughts and feelings, how to censor them from others while in hiding, and the harsh realities of being on the run, all at once. Sounds like a lot, but it's carefully layered through Todd's narration. He is a young man that I love through and through, one of those instantly likeable characters. Todd is an illiterate farmer boy who knows how to take care of himself, but is still figuring out his place in a really messed up world. Reading his Noise, along with his narration, along with his interactions with others (especially Viola!) is very interesting to read. If there are three books with Todd, I am more than happy with that.

Okay, I'm writing a lot of just stuff here, and it's more gushing than anything else, but I loved this book. It was fast-paced, action packed, thought provoking, tear jerking, funny and sweet. All of these things, and Ness does them all so well. It's little wonder that he's so highly praised - the man's god skill. The Knife of Never Letting Go is a proper read, and is already my new thing to recommend.

Now, back to book number two.

Walker Books, 2008;
Paperback;
479 pages

For Review: The Reader ~ Bernard Schlink

The Reader is proof that a book doesn't have to be several inches thick to be enjoyable and emotionally arresting. After some of the heavy tomes that I've read lately, this was quite a welcome relief.

Following the events of WWII, Germany is trying to reconcile its recent past with its present. Michael Berg is fifteen at the start of the novel when he meets older woman Hanna. They speak little of their personal lives, but find themselves deeply, intimately involved. Michael continues his studies at school, while Hanna works as a tram conductor. In the afternoons Michael reads to Hanna, and they enjoy their sexy times together (and I blushed to think that the people sitting on the bus behind me could read over my shoulder). Soon, however, the two are separated, until Michael's seminars involving the Nazi trials bring them together again, in a way.

All of this happens in the space of little over two hundred pages, but Michael pulls the reader into his narrative quickly. The novel is told retrospectively, and it's interesting to watch nostalgic teenage years give way gradually into cynicism. The narrative itself is intriguing, and the translation reads well. There's a lot of indulgence given to wondering about whys and what-ifs, so there were points towards the end of each chapter that read like philosophic meanderings. But, I suppose that is to be expected of the lawyer son of a philosopher.

The Reader is thought-provoking and bittersweet, more heavily leaning on the bitter side. Historical, philosophical, romantic, erotic, - good things do come in small packages!

Phoenix, 1997;

Paperback;

216 pages.

For Review: The Little Stranger ~ Sarah Waters

Who knows how long this book has been sitting on my shelf for? It had genuinely been gathering dust. How embarrassing - especially given the number of times I've heard people exclaim how good Waters' writing is.

They're not wrong. The Little Stranger weighs in at 500 pages, but it zipped by on a train to and from London. It's the 1940s and the Ayres family are living in their estate at Hundred Halls. With the head of the house deceased, son Roderick is now lord of the manor, as it were. However, he suffered badly from a crash during the war, and struggles with a limp among other things. Mrs Ayres is charming and polite, very much gentry-bred, while her daughter Catherine is in her early twenties and already considered for spinister status. Dr Faraday is called to the house one day to attend to their parlour maid, who complains about the eerieness of the house. He's quickly a part of the furniture at Hundred Halls, beginning experiments with Roderick's poorly leg, and involving himself with the affairs of the house. Soon, however, Roderick is fearful of the house too, and a series of haunting events unfolds, from mysterious marks in the woodwork, to strange sounds, and a house fire.

What makes The Little Stranger so much more interesting than just an 'ooh some spooky things are happening' kind of read, is the parallels between what is happening in the house and the mental state of the Ayres family. Does the state of Hundred Halls affect those living there, or vice versa? The story is told from Dr Faraday's point of view, meaning that initially there is a distance between himself and the ghostly goings on. As the novel progresses, however, Faraday becomes closer to the family, particularly to Caroline, and he becomes more entangled in the strange goings on. There were places where it was unfortunate that the story was told from his point of view, because it meant that some of the really exciting twists in the tale had to be relayed to the reader second hand. Still, though the novel unfolded slowly at first, there was so much to interest and to speculate on that it all happened at an enjoyably quick pace.

This book was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize in 2009, and I'm only surprised that it didn't go the whole way to winning. There's so much stuff going on here in terms of themes and ideas - madness, class, familial relationships, love, the repercussions of war - but nothing about it seems forced. Plenty to think about but at not point did it feel like I was being pushed to think about any one particular idea or line of argument. Waters keeps the reader guessing beyond the ending, and I imagine if I discuss the book with someone else we might have different ideas to discuss. The Little Stranger is big, but contained. Where there might have been limitations with the point of view, it can be equally frustrating and intriguing - the reader only knows what Faraday knows, and what he is often belatedly told. Still, the narration is fluid with authentic feeling and dialogue, and colours of description in the right places.

This was my first time reading anything by Sarah Waters, and I'll be quicker about reading more. Tipping the Velvet is already on my wishlist, but I think I've found another author to be really excited about that I haven't read the entire catalogue of. Here's to the next one! For those who might have read more by Waters - which is your favourite, and what could you recommend?

P.S (added after review was written)
I've noticed a few reviews claiming that they couldn't care less because the family were upper class. Well...I've got as much time for the upper classes as many others do, but I didn't feel that I was supposed to feel actual genuine pity for them losing their money. That's how the family felt, but I never had the impression that Waters wanted to go out of her way to make the reader to feel horrified at the Ayres' family's dwindling money problems. That was just a thing that was happening that had to be thought about, and also a potential reason for the family going doolally. Many of the things that happened, and the quirks, about this book couldn't have been there if the house was beautiful and lovely and always brightly lit and the whole family were happy the whole time. That's all I'll say about that for now.

Reviewish: Chavs - The Demonisation of the Working Class ~ Owen Jones

Primarily, this blog is for reviewing fiction and talking about writing. There's nothing wrong with non-fiction, just it's not something that I review. Same goes with this. As much as I'd like to review this book in more detail, it's impossible to do without becoming ridiculously involved with politics, and this isn't the place for me to that. All the same, reading this has provided some interesting background material for an essay I'm writing about the young working class and education.

What I can say, is that I have never enjoyed reading a book concerning politics so much. For a start, it's actually a topic that interests me, but Jones writes in way that uses both journalistic research along with anecdote, which makes for a much easier read. Essentially, the book charts the way that the working class have been portrayed by the media, from politics, to various newspapers, to television programmes, and cinema. The working class are often portrayed in a certain light or, in fact, like being working class is synonymous with being a 'chav'. (NB - I'm Scottish, never use the word 'chav', and for American readers, I suppose the closest thing is white trash? Or something?) Obviously, this is not the case, but portrayal in the media might suggest otherwise. That, or the middle classes think otherwise. Jones argues through various cases, which include everything from the London riots to Shameless.

Most compelling for me were the sections about young working class and education. There were too many places were I nodded, grinned, and said 'exactly' at the sentence I was reading. My own experience of high school and, more especially, my experience of being at Edinburgh University, where places where the 'differences' between classes were made the most obvious. For me, that's just always been the way it is, but Jones offers insight as to why that might be, both in terms of politics and media. Still, I went to the same university and graduated with the degree as many others who had gone through private education, but I wouldn't say my situation is quite so unusual as Chavs would have me believe - there were places where I felt the working class were seen as too much of one lump big group, without disparity.

Overall, Chavs covers a huge area of politics and society but (and again I'm wary of getting into politics here too much) the lack of Scotland was keenly felt. Jones' research, statistics, and discussion didn't mention Scotland, so I spent much of time wondering how such a such scenario was dealt in Scotland, or what the statistics of such and such a thing are in Scotland - is the situation better, or worse? I don't actually know, because no such information was offered. But then again, the book is called Chavs and not Neds (though if someone wrote this I would definitely read it).

I surprised myself with just how much I could enjoy reading political non-fiction so, if reading about the working class, or 'chavs' is in your interest, then this book is worth a
read.