YA fiction

This week's Booking Through Thursday is:

Do you read books written for children or teens? Or do you stick to books for adults?


While I do mostly ready adult fiction (and I don't mean the 50 Shades of Grey kind), I am partial to a good teen fiction novel now and again - mostly dystopias like The Hunger Games or Divergent, as I feel they still have some really interesting points to make, they're just not as dressed up in philosophy and subtlety as adult ones often are.

I'm not sure the age distinction is particularly valid, it's more about reading level and patience. Sometimes you want something a bit more direct and to the point, and a 'teen' book can be great for that. Of course there is the fact that novels with sex or a with a main romantic interest as the central theme are less suitable for pre-teens because it's not really a part of life that they understand at the time - I was reading many 'adult' standard novels by age 12 or so, and there were parts where I just didn't understand the motivation of the characters because I wasn't emotionally mature enough to do so.

So yes, if it's well written I'm perfectly happy with teen fiction, although tearing through it in a couple of days is a little less satisfying than a book that lasts a week or more.

Bitterblue - Kristin Cashore

I loved the previous two novels in this trilogy, Fire and Graceling, and Bitterblue was very different but just as good. The story picks up 10 years after the end of Graceling, with the young queen Bitterblue beginning to pick up the pieces of her shattered kingdom.

Even the premise, I think, is quite original – while coming-of-age novels involving young rulers are very common, the idea of seeing what happens after the villain is defeated, what happens to all the ordinary people trying to rebuild their lives, is very unusual. This novel is about what happens after the happy ending.

Bitterblue's despotic father, King Leck, used his mind-manipulating powers to confuse and control his subjects, forcing them to forget about the atrocities he did in the deluded name of progress. While those who served under him are desperate to forget those times, the young queen wants to dig up the past in order to provide reparations for those who suffered. Her castle is full of secrets, locked doors, and coded messages, and many people wish for them to remain hidden.

While there is a love interest involved, it's more of a side issue than the main point of the story, which is something Cashore does very well, and like in Fire we get the feeling that Bitterblue's own narrative is far from being all-important. There are tantalising glimpses into the lives of other kingdoms and other people, which add depth and realism to her fantasy universe. Instead of being simply narrative devices, other characters, however briefly mentioned, feel as though they have a full story to tell themselves, if they were only given the chance.

Another wonderful (and unusual) thing about this trilogy is the way the three books fit together. Aside from being written out of chronological order, each is set in a different kingdom, and features different main characters. Places and people from each novel have an impact on each of the other stories, and having read all three I feel as though each one adds significance to both of the others. Definitely worth a read, and I recommend getting your hands on the whole trilogy if you can.

The cover art is, again, very much underselling itself, but there are much nicer editions out there, like this one from Barnes and Noble.
 

Next up: Bel-Ami by Guy de Maupassant

Film adaptation - Divergent

I quite enjoyed reading Veronica Roth's Divergent, so had pretty high hopes for the film. I'm glad to say that these were mostly justified - while the film did cut out some of the brutality of the book (for instance the initiate falling to their death early on), for the most part it stayed true to the plotline and the atmosphere of the novel.

It really brought to life the melancholy beauty of the destroyed landscapes being reclaimed by nature, and while much of the film took place in underground tunnels, we see enough of the outside world not to get bored of the setting. The central character, Tris (played by Shailene Woodley) does, in the usual hollywood fashion, remain pretty even after being horribly beaten up, only the odd painted-on bruise remaining. It was nice, however, to see that she didn't cry attractively - why shouldn't people in films have distorted, crumpled faces and hoarse nasal voices when they cry, as well as real life? That made the sad parts all the more touching, for me, to see a more realistic expression of grief.

The action was well-paced, and the film stuck well to the book - losing some of its depth due to time constraints, but that's always a problem. Well worth a watch, if you enjoyed the book.

Film adaptation - City of Bones

This is one of those unusual times when I felt that the film adaptation was actually much better than the book. I read Cassandra Clare's City of Bones some years ago – I liked the cover art and was going through a bit of an urban fantasy phase at the time. I really didn’t enjoy it, however. I found Clary’s narrative voice bratty and irritating, and most of the plotline rather clichéd.

The film was much better because I didn’t have to listen to Clary Fray’s internal monologue, and of course anything is improved by the addition of Lena Headly and Robert Sheehan. Admittedly some of the special effects were a bit naff, but on the whole it felt much faster-paced and less whiny than the novel, and despite quite a lot of awkward eye contact moments it got pretty gripping by the end. Plus the entire cast’s magnificent cheekbones don't hurt.

Graceling - Kristin Cashore

Graceling came with the rather dubious recommendation, “[This] exquisitely drawn romance … will slake the thirst of Twilight fans”, on the front cover. However, I really enjoyed Fire, so I went ahead and read it anyway.

While it doesn’t quite have the accomplished sense of depth of Fire, this is Cashore’s debut novel, and as such that’s simply a sign that her novels have developed since the beginning. She does a good job of introducing us to the fantasy world the story takes place in, without being artificially explanatory or giving us too many made-up terms to try and remember.

The heroine, Katsa, is a graceling, marked out by her mismatched eyes and an uncanny natural ability – in her case, the ability to inflict violence. Ever since her gift was discovered, her uncle the King has been using her as a tool of intimidation against those who displeased him. A chance to investigate the mysterious kidnapping of a neighbouring King's father offers her an opportunity to escape and to prove to herself and others that she’s more than just a mindless thug.

One of the things that really stood out about this novel was the unusual angles we see events from. Katsa is an unconventional young woman, but this is only to be expected as the heroine of a young adult fantasy novel. However, the feel of the narrative is also different – while the novel appears to be of the standard ‘vanquish the villain’ type, you get the feeling that defeating the bad guy wasn’t really what it was all about.

The Twilight-style epic romance promised on the cover was, thankfully, more human and believable than that, albeit made more complex by the respective graceling abilities of the pair involved. This novel is populated by strong characters throughout, and we also meet Princess Bitterblue, the protagonist of the third and final novel in the trilogy. Despite being a child, she's forthright and intriguing, and I’m really looking forward to reading more about her.

Next up: The Unquiet Bones by Mel Starr

Fire - Kirsten Cashore

The first thing I have to say is that this book deserves a better cover. The Gollancz version (the one I read) is your typical teen-fantasty ‘girl-with-weapon-standing-on-rock-with-mystic-looking-background’ image. And the part that grates with me most is the fact that, if the image is actually trying to reference any part of the book, the dress should be purple, not red. 

The Dial YA version of the cover is better, featuring a bow and arrows rather than lady-in-dress, and I really like the understated originality of the Clarsen YA German edition.

 

Inside, Fire is anything but your average YA fantasy novel. The usual elements are there – insular non-time-specific low-tech kingdoms, magical powers, and so on – but Cashore takes it so much further. The protagonist, Fire, has a complexity to her sexual past which is refreshing compared to the coyness YA novels often have about sex. It helps the reader to see her as a rounded human being, rather than a copy-and-pasted heroine. The intricacy of the relationships between all of the characters in this novel is really well done, and leads to some truly surprising and touching moments.

Naturally, Fire does have special powers – what self-respecting fantasy heroine doesn’t? She was born a ‘monster’, a genetic aberration possible in any species, which gives the individual very bright colouring and unnatural beauty, and the power to influence the minds of those around them. Making your heroine inhumanly beautiful is a tricky thing to pull off without making it all feel like a giant piece of wish-fulfillment, but Cashore manages it. Fire sees her appearance as a disadvantage in most situations, and never truly comes to accept it as an integral part of who she is, not even by the end. Cashore also considers the logistics of Fire’s condition; ‘monsters’ are cannibalistic and lust after each other’s blood, which means that she is constantly attracting ‘monster’ insects and that she can’t leave the house when on her period without being mobbed by raptors.

Another aspect I really liked about this novels is that Fire isn’t the be-all-and-end-all of everything. Of course, as the protagonist, she does lie at the centre of the story, but she is only involved in a very small part of the events taking place. The fact that she recognises her insignificance amid grand political schemes and the war sweeping the kingdom adds a sense of perspective not often found in fantasy novels.

Overall, I really enjoyed this one, and am looking forward to reading the other two in the trilogy, Graceling and Bitterblue.

Next up: Cousin Kate, by Georgette Heyer

The Host - Stephenie Meyer

I don’t normally like to post mean reviews, but at this point I think Stephenie Meyer is rather too rich to

care, and is probably quite used to receiving hate mail as well as the locks of hair and used underpants belonging to overexcited and slightly confused young women who think she keeps Edward Cullen somewhere on her person.

Admittedly, The Host is better than Twilight. Significantly better, in fact. The plot actually sounds promising: an alien invasion by parasitic creatures that attach to the spines of their hosts and continue to live their lives as normal until virtually the whole planet is taken over, leaving only tiny pockets of still-human resistance. The narrative is told by one of the alien consciousnesses themselves, which is also an interesting concept.

However, it’s at this point that promising sci-fi originality goes out of the window and Meyer’s compulsion to turn everything into a vapid teen romance steps in. Instead of choosing one of the many interesting potential avenues, Meyer focuses on our alien protagonist Wanda and her human host Mel’s inner girlish arguments, and on the fact that Wanda appears to have inherited Mel’s love interest in her boyfriend Jared.

Wanda decides to search for Jared and her brother Jamie, who are sheltering in a cave in the desert. She’s taken prisoner by the community Jared and Jamie have joined, and, now that Mel’s been taken over by the enemy, Jared is full of hatred for her and immediately proclaims that she should be killed. Although Wanda and Mel manage to gradually win over the trust of most of the community, Jared is staunch in his opinion, and even hits her several times, giving her noticeable injuries and facial scarring. She continues to try and gain his trust by putting herself last in everything and generally acting like a doormat, refusing to stand up for herself even to save her own life. Just as women should do in the face of domestic violence, apparently. Thanks for that, Meyer.

Despite the advances of attractive nice guy Ian, who has come to like Wanda for who she is now rather than Mel as she was previously and acts as protector and comforter to her, both Wanda and Mel cling to their desperate love for the man who quite literally wants to murder them for the majority of the novel. I was worried, given the fact that virtually the same situation happens in Twilight (ie. Edward literally wanting to kill Bella most of the time, and I’m-your-totally-platonic-friend Jacob doing everything for her and being off-handedly rejected for not being her true love), that the Wanda-Mel composite would end up somehow living happily ever after with the violent unpleasant Jared.

However, after telling her that, “You are the noblest, purest creature I've ever met. The universe will be a darker place without you,” (a compliment she was clearly fishing for from the very beginning of the novel), her friends collude to transplant her consciousness into a vacant body (another young, attractive female, obviously), conveniently saving her the trouble of going through with her difficult decision to leave Mel her own body back at Wanda’s expense. Wanda and Ian can live happily ever after, and Mel is lucky enough to have her boyfriend back – the one who weeks ago beat her repeatedly and wanted to kill her. Lucky, lucky Mel. But apparently he’s hot, so that’s what matters.

So, um, yes. Always submit meekly to your one true love, even if he beats you and threatens to kill you, and everything will be ok, until you… get transplanted into someone else and can have the nice guy? I’m still quite confused about the message I’m getting from this one.

Next up: Heartstone, by C J Sansom

Divergent - Veronica Roth

Surprise review!

I know I said the next review would be of The Complete Father Brown Stories, but frankly, at over 800 densely packed pages, it’s very long. I thought I’d intersperse some light relief in the form of Divergent, the first novel in Veronica Roth’s teen trilogy.

I hadn’t heard of this novel until I saw a trailer for its film adaptation in the cinema, and had been looking out for it since. I thought the trailer looked interesting, but a little like it was jumping on the Hunger Games bandwagon.

Divergent did remind me of The Hunger Games, but mostly in a positive sense, in that it’s a teen dystopia with a strong female protagonist. The setting is a society divided into five distinct, sequestered factions, based on primary personality traits – Abegnation for the selfless, Dauntless for the brave, Candor for the honest, Erudite for the intelligent, and Amity for the peace-loving. On reaching 16 each child undergoes a test to determine their most suited faction. While most get a distinct recommendation, Beatrice’s results are inconclusive, making her a Divergent, someone who doesn’t fit neatly into any one of the factions. She chooses to leave her family and join the Dauntless faction, and the novel follows her struggles to adapt in her new life, in a world about to fall apart.

I thought the obligatory teenage romance aspect was rather more simplistic than that in The Hunger Games, but then again I really liked the more complicated and gender-stereotype-reversing romantic situation between Peeta and Katniss, so Divergent had a lot to live up to there. In terms of grittiness, this novel got its collateral damage in almost from the beginning, and the sense that  there are real consequences to the characters’ actions is with you throughout.

I felt as though I could see the larger of the plot twists coming, but was pleasantly surprised to be surprised by some of the reveals that took place. I can confidently say that, if you enjoyed The Hunger Games, you’ll like this, and I look forward to reading the other two novels in the trilogy and to seeing what they make of the film adaptation.

Next up: The Complete Father Brown Stories, by G K Chesterton