Critique

Unlike many of the books I read and review in the young adult arena, I was not able to skip through this text quickly. I found myself reading a few chapters and then pondering on the implications of the text and the honesty it forced me to face in my own life. Marcelo has this way of relating experiences in their most simplistic form, breaking things down from the complexity that we often try to shroud our interaction and thought process with in order to pursue negative and destructive behavior that we ultimately know is wrong and bad for us and others.

It caused me to question why we interact with each other in certain ways, and what prohibits us from being living in honesty and decency. It reminds me of many of the conversations I have around ‘sharing’ music, a term we use to defend something that it, in reality, is nothing but stealing. We have many methods we use to doublespeak ourselves into believing that this kind of behavior in all aspects of our lives is not only ‘ok’ but should actually be ‘encouraged.’ Through our selfishness, we create our own systems of misery and suffering, and I believe that a character like Marcelo has the capability to help us refocus and put it all back into perspective—cause and effect, action and consequence.

As for the story itself, it’s beautifully written, and I enjoyed every last word. It reads as if Stork truly took the time to create a rich, engaging, and educational experience for his audience. It’s been several days since I’ve finished, and although I’m in the midst of other books, this text has stuck with me as I continue to process through my priorities and the way I live my life in general. Marcelo is a believable character who goes through a painful transition and an arc that is riddled with sadness and joy. I think, in many ways, his journey helps to remind us that the ‘real world’ is more complicated than we’d like it to be, but that we often create that drama for ourselves. I recommend this to all readers 13+.

Critique

Not knowing exactly what to expect in a prequel, I was pleasantly surprised by Fire. Cashore does an excellent job of creating what feels like a very believable world and setting the rules to that world in a tangible way. Ultimately, the best fantasy tells a good story, like any book, and this is a good story. Fire, the main character, is three-dimensional and carries a lot of depth and complexity in her character and conveys a strong arc throughout her journey.

The rest of the elements are also good. There are multiple layers of conflict and subtle plots and themes that weave throughout the larger more obvious ones in a way that makes the story rich. Unlike many of the books in this class, which lack foundation and rely too heavily on fantasy tropes and fast-paced action rather than any level of development, Fire is a tale that speaks to its readers with maturity on topics like self-image and personal responsibility and carries the weight of a story that offers multiple interpretations. I recommend this to all readers 15+.

The other companion novel in this series so far is Graceling (book 1).

Critique

I really do love these books, and I was certainly excited to see another addition to the series. For those who are just entering the scene of The Mysterious Benedict Society here on this review, you may want to check out the other two that I’ve posted previously because this review will simply be a reaction and comparison to the others.

That said, I have to be honest that I was a little disappointed in this one. Although there are a lot of fun fight scenes between Milligan and the Ten Men, there aren’t nearly as many brain teasers for the readers to engage in with the four main characters. Overall, the book is great, and it’s certainly a fun read, but what I feel makes these books so particularly unique and such a great read are the puzzles that Stewart interjects throughout. Certainly, if you’re a fan, you should still read it, but I think it’s the weakest in the series so far.

The other two books in this series are The Mysterious Benedict Society (book 1), and The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey (book 2).

Critique

As always, DiCamillo introduces her readers to a beautiful world full of interesting characters. Not quite the allegorical social commentary of The Tale of Despereaux, The Magician’s Elephant is still an engaging journey through what seems to be a small European town at the turn of the century. The magic is not an end to itself, but rather is the catalyst in bringing about a chain of events that cause various characters to shift from their comfort zones and move onto something greater. In this way, DiCamillo is subtle, but powerful, and it can be both a fun book for younger readers as well as a book with multiple layers for older ones. I recommend this book to all readers 8+.

Critique

Steampunk is on the rise, or shall we say, gathering steam? This recent novel by Westerfeld is a perfect example of the kind of possibilities open to this new fantasy genre, and I, for one, am very excited at the prospects before us. Personally, I’m growing a bit tired of wizards, dragons, fairies/elves and vampires, as it seems that almost all of the recent fantasy novels fall into one of those four categories, the only exception being the novels written by Garth Nix, Kate Constable, Elizabeth Knox, or Kristen Cashore.

Steampunk, and its sister Madcap (which is more like Victorian fantasy/sci-fi in the same way that Steampunk is Industrial and Scientific Revolution fantasy/sci fi) are widespread enough at this point, as a fantasy genre that there are several people picking up their brushes, instruments, tools, and pens to create Steampunk art in their own artistic field.

For the young adult literature discipline, Leviathan is likely to be an early industry standard for others to follow much like Lord of the Rings is for elf/dwarf fantasy, Interview with the Vampire is for vampire mythology (not including of course Dracula), and Pern is for dragons—yes, it’s that good.

What makes Westerfeld such a talented writer in the fantasy genre is that he’s not solely reliant on the fast-paced action and fantasy tropes that so many in this genre have a tendency to fall into. He integrates all of the elements that make up a good story—social commentary regarding politics, nationalism, gender equality, and the general social unrest caused by scientific advancement, specifically as it pertains to biogenetics and cloning, as well as three-dimensional characters and an overall depth to the story because of the many layers of internal and external conflict encountered by the characters. Even as an alternate version of the history, many of the same elements that caused World War I are explored throughout the text.

My only criticism is that I wish it were a self-contained one off rather than a series, but I suppose I may change my tune when I see the second book. I recommend this to all readers 12+.

Critique

Attention – this review contains spoilers. Typically, I don’t give away the surprises throughout the story, but I have to for this review. If you want things to be a surprise, which I recommend, don’t read this review and read the book based off of my recommendation.

The Maze Runner was exactly what I was hoping it would be. The world that Dashner has created is the perfect type of dystopian society that science fiction books are typically known for. However, what makes it particularly unique, is that this dystopian world is a world within a world.

The world that Thomas wakes up in with his memory lost is a Lord of the Flies type of scenario. The maze world is populated only by teenage boys, and each has particular tasks that they’re in charge of performing in order to make sure that their little world can continue working. The other world is the outside world, that some of them seem to have some faint memories of, and when they go through the Changing, they remember that their world is not a world worth going back to. However, they still hold out hope that there must be something better than what they have now, and so they attempt to solve the maze

What Dashner has cleverly done to avoid the boys fighting amongst each other is given them something to hope for, something to work toward. They channel all of their respective energies into solving the maze and finding freedom rather than fighting against each other. In that way, it’s unique from Lord of the Flies or many of the other dystopian science fiction novels.

There is a good balance between the death of the boys, and the difficult situation they’ve found themselves in, and the hope they retain for discovering freedom, coupled with their intelligent pursuit of that goal. They crack codes, which is an interesting discovery process as well for the reader.

Lastly, the ending is perfect for the way the setting and plot slowly reveals itself to the reader throughout the novel. You don’t know any more than the characters do themselves, and that’s part of the adventure. In addition, the fake murder of the scientists, and the false hope they’ve placed these characters within yet again makes for a tantalizing next novel. Often with follow up books, they are rarely as good as the first because everything has already been revealed, and there is no mystery. I recommend this book to all readers 13+.

Critique

Even though I was certain Montmaray was not a real place, I continually second guessed myself throughout reading the text. Cooper does such a fantastic job of creating a believable history, topography, and culture for this imaginary island that it makes it difficult to believe it’s not an actual place.

Also, typically I don’t like the whimsical girl 1st person narrative, but I believe it worked for this story very well. However, there were sometimes where the journal concept Cooper uses to tell the story breaks down a bit. By that I mean specifically that the events and the way Sophie is relaying those events seem less like a girl writing in her journal and more like a standard 3rd person omniscient narrator.

The most accomplished element of the book is certainly the intertextual weaving of historical fiction with historical fact over the course of the history of Montmaray with the rest of Europe, as well as the discussions that arise between the characters about their roles in the world as European royalty given the tumultuous nature of Europe at the time. The war feels real told through the eyes of Sophie as does everything else about her little island kingdom. I recommend this novel to readers 13-17.

Critique

Kelly’s debut novel is a wonderful exposé on Southern society life at the turn of the 20th century, rife with subtexts and references to post-slavery issues and mindsets, the rise of modern machinery like the car and telephone, and the clear and unbalanced gender lines that existed and the struggle of one girl to overcome those.

In particular, this is an important novel for those looking into pursuing sciences, especially because of the constant references and education around naturalism, its rise into society, the opposition it received from schools and a predominantly Christian culture, and the important role it played in the emergence of a new humanity in over the 20th century.

Calpurnia is a delight to follow as she begins to notice the world around her. In her own evolution, she begins in the larval stage and moves through pupae, cocoon, and eventually becomes a bright and beautiful butterfly (or moth as is a symbolic reference in the book). Kelly is witty and clever in her treatment of Calpurnia’s growth as a person, a scientist, and a courageous and curious mind. She exhibits a vast range of human emotion, showing empathy, sadness, self-sacrifice and exuberant joy, clearly a believable and lovable character.

Kelly also has deftly woven passages from Darwin’s Origin of Species, cunningly breaking the 4th wall for the reader in an effort to compare the evolution of Calpurnia and her world to that of Darwin’s scientific expositions.

For those looking for an excellent read that contains layers of depth that can be turned to several times before fully comprehending everything, then this is the perfect novel. I recommend it to all readers 10+.

Critique

Lawrence has composed a beautifully written book that aptly creates two different worlds. The first, the ‘real’ world is a heart-wrenching account of children who are suffering from Polio, but are able to be brightened because one girl decides to be brave enough to show up every Saturday and narrate an ongoing story. The second world is the frame story, the fantasy tale that Laurie creates for the kids in the Polio ward, which feels equally as tangible as the first.

It soon becomes clear that the two worlds are merging, and each child represents a character in the story. Laurie doesn’t always necessarily intend for it to play out that way, but through the merging of the worlds, it becomes clear to the kids that the story must be finished. Lawrence has created a treasure where both stories keep the reader interested and informed at the same time, rooting for the heroes to overcome the giant, and for the kids to overcome Polio. I wouldn’t be surprised if this novel is in the clear running for the Newbery. I recommend it to all readers 8+.

Critique

Honestly, I’m not sure how to approach this review. I’m sad because, to my knowledge, this is Siobhan Dowd’s last book. Both Bog Child and Solace of the Road have been published posthumously, and I feel that although I still have a few books of hers to read that were published prior to these two, I am already internally mourning over the loss of such a great writer.

Dowd seems always able to find the perfect balance between telling the character’s story in an engaging way and bringing the reader into an understanding of why the story is important, that it is more than simply a story about a person, but that there are larger elements at work, things that people should generally know about and empathize with, broaden their worldviews to understand and incorporate the messages that Dowd is so deftly communicating through her stories.

Solace of the Road is no exception. At first I found myself irritated with the first person narrative of a young girl who is stricken with a difficult past and struggling with who she is and was as she begins her journey maturing into a woman. So often I wanted to reach into the story and say, “Please stop thinking this way and making these kinds of decisions. You’re only going to end up hurting yourself.” However, even that sentiment brought me the realization that Dowd is so masterful in her storytelling. Dowd wants us to feel that way in order to show us the story, partner with us in our reading rather than just telling us something and giving us the easy answers. She forces us to grapple with many of the same difficult aspects of life that Holly/Solace is going through.

I often felt exactly the same way when reading Bog Child. Having grown up in America with two parents who loved me, I have no idea what a person in Holly’s shoes is going through. Even now, I can’t say that I truly know any more than I did before, but I will say that I have a stronger sense of empathy for people in Holly’s position, or even Holly’s mother, who often make decisions reacting to their circumstances rather than thinking things through and landing on the best possible choice. They make the best of what they have, and although they hurt others in the process, it doesn’t happen without a sense of self-awareness and self-loathing they must work through. Holly is a complex character who feels very tangible. I wouldn’t be too surprised if I actually met a ‘Holly’ one day, and she turned out to be exactly the way that Dowd has described her. I recommend this book to all readers 12+.