Chapter 37: A Book Set in the Future

The Giver, Lois Lowry

Newberry winner, turned into a movie, people name their child after one of the characters- maybe my expectations were high for this one. After that insomnia-destroying violin book, I thought this might be a tense enough story to keep me awake. Mostly it did, but was it worth it?

First, let me state for the record that Child #3 did not get his middle name because of this story. I won't ever pretend at some point in the future that it had any influence on the choice. But when I read the author's introduction in which she claims many fans have sent her letters saying they have named their child for one in the novel, well, I expected something original, thought-provoking, and amazing. What I got was ... meh.

The premise of the story has potential- after generations, a community has achieved sameness. Sameness is probably not even the right word, though. People have different abilities and interests, but almost every person has the same life-trajectory. Born > placed with a family unit until adulthood > productive member of society > retirement to the home for old persons > release. Anything other than that is an anomaly and people avoid discussing it because being polite is really, really important. Sounds like things could get pretty interesting, right? You'd think.

Enter Jonas. At Level 12, he gets skipped over in the ceremony that announces what his future job will be. After his peer group gets their assignments, Jonas is called to the center of the room and told he has been chosen for a high honor. He will be Receiver of Memory. His training begins the next day and we are assured it will be painful. Ok, let's see where this is going.

Oh, nevermind. There's snow and a sled and the Civil War and then boom! it's been a year and Jonas is almost done with his training. One of the special things he can do, that no one else can do because it isn't polite, is ask prying questions. Jonas learns what release really involves (I won't spoil it, but it's no surprise. At all.) and decides to run away with the collective memories from generations past. And he takes a baby with him.

Ah! So the journey is going to be a big part of the plot! We're going to see Jonas and Gabriel bond and experience new things now? Nope. It's going to take a single chapter to get through what is a very long journey (I assume). And that's the end. No revolution. No conflict wherein the Elders try to change Jonas' mind. No word at all of what becomes of the Community members Jonas once cared for- his parents, sister, and friends. Just ... The End.

I just can't believe with this much material, this is all we get. And that people love it so much. It's not terrible. It's written well enough. It just lacks so much- character development, continuity, conflict. I guess I could be generous and call it a Revolution of One, but without more information I can't even do that. This story is like a Slim Fast shake instead of one of those insane buffets in Vegas. Overall, I'm underwhelmed. I won't read it again or expect my kids to (but they can if they want). The Giver gets a disappointing 2.5 Marias.

Chapter 30: A Book You Own But Have Never Read

A Wind In the Door, Madeline L'Engle

This is one of those books that I can't believe I never read before. I mean, I've read Wrinkle so many times that I forget other people have not. But for some reason, I've never finished the trilogy/quartet until now.

A Wind In the Door brings us back to Meg, Charles Wallace, and Calvin together in the backyard trying to solve another major dilemma that no one outside their sphere knows about or understands. Charles Wallace is sick and having trouble adapting to school. This time, Meg's love alone will not save her brother. She'll have to control her temper and ask from help from the one man she believes incapable of caring.

The dragons in the twins' garden are a new fantastical creature that will pair up with Meg and the others to solve, not only the mystery of Charles Wallace's health, but provide proof of the hypothetical farandolae- if only to those who already believe.

L'Engle is a masterful storyteller. Unlike many series, she does not get bogged down in repetition. Each journey is completely new, yet related to earlier adventures. They build on one another in a way that makes theoretical science accessible and entertaining. At the same time, she leaves you believing in a little bit of magic with a dash of generic religion. The three co-exist seamlessly in her skillful hands.

Meg continues to be one of my all-time favorite heroes. She's a real adolescent girl- confused, emotional, unsure. And when she's done saving the planet from doom, she keeps the secret to herself and goes about a normal life with cocoa and tomato sandwiches. I will definitely come back and reads these books again when my own daughter is in this stage.

On its own, Wind would earn a solid four Marias. It's not my favorite in this series, but as part of the series and because it stars Meg, A Wind In the Door earns five Marias.

Chapter 27: A Book Set in High School

An Abundance of Katherines, John Green

Taking a little liberty since the majority of this novel takes place during the summer after high school graduation, I think this one still counts for this category. I know lots of adults who love Green's The Fault In Our Stars, and Katherines looked interesting for a weekend on the road, so I checked it out from the library while I take a break from a more difficult novel.

Katherines is about a former child prodigy, Colin Singleton, after he has been dumped for the 19th time by a girl named Katherine. Heartbroken and searching for The Meaning of His Life, he chooses the all-American option and hits the road with his best friend, Hassan, a Judge Judy loving fat kid who isn't concerned with such philosophical quandaries. Meanwhile Colin is also trying to perfect an mathematical formula to express and predict the arc of every romantic relationship, using his string of Katherines as his data pool. This equation will propel him to genius status and make him matter.

Interstate 65 leads the duo to Gutshot, TN and the grave of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Thus begins the coming-of-age story, complete with adventure, romance, and a moral.

While I didn't love this book, I am surprised by the number of people who flat out hate it. While Colin is a bit of a whiner, he's also a nerdy teenager with a broken heart. So I expect him to be self-absorbed and pathetic. His sidekick, Hassan, is hilarious. He loves Judge Judy and institutes a policy of saying "dingleberries" when Colin brings up another annoying reminder that he hasn't enrolled in college. Dingleberries. Dude, that's funny. He also alerts Colin when he goes off on an uninteresting tangent. We all could use a friend like Hassan, who can love us even when we're are boring, self-absorbed weirdos.

The arc of Katherines is a predictable teenage story of finding oneself and getting the girl, but it was still a good story. The citizens of Gutshot, the tangential footnotes, and the love of Hardee's Monster Thickburgers made this one enjoyable. Unlike many YA novels, there's (almost) no sex, no drug abuse, and very little drinking. It was refreshing and still realistic, and the only apocalypse is that of being dumped. Again.

Overall, I think Katherines does a good job of capturing the Dumpee experience and tells a good story of what matters. I probably won't read it again and will return it to the library. But I would not hesitate to recommend it for some light reading to people who don't easily tire of quirks like anagramming (a skill I do not have and find fascinating). An Abundance of Katherines earns 3 Marias.

Chapter 16: A Book That Made You Cry

11/22/63, Stephen King

So much to say about this book. First, I don't think I've ever read anything by Mr. King. I remember a classmate in high school who read him almost constantly. He would carry one enormous volume after another on top of his textbooks and read them in stolen moments between classes. The sheer number of pages made me seriously question how he did anything else. Maybe that's why he was so thin. Anyway, John S. never convinced me to pick up a King novel, but my best friend and voracious reader, Elizabeth, did. She's never let me down in the entertainment category, so I checked this one out expected to cross A Book Your Best Friend Recommends off my list. As is becoming a theme here, it wasn't what I expected, and I had to shift from my original plan.

To be totally honest, I didn't actually shed a tear. But a few pricked up in my eyes, and that's about as close as it is going to get for me. I expected I would have to find a truly hilarious book that would make me laugh 'til I cried to accomplish this one. Instead, the man who brought me Carrie (one of my favorite movies of all time), nearly brought me to tears. He deserves credit for that.

Now, in order to get to the tears, we have to go back to what I thought the book was about. Even after reading the cover, I thought it was going to be about saving JFK from assassination. I thought it was going to be about an obsessed time-traveler. I thought it was going to be like one of many conversations I had in middle school with my friend, Stacey, who was so fascinated by the entire modern Camelot legend that she did an incredible re-enactment of Jackie's reaction in the convertible. I can't think of Jack and Jackie without also thinking of her. I was expecting Dealey Plaza to be the center of focus and action. I couldn't imagine why it would take eight hundred forty-some pages to tell the tale. And in walks the legendary Mr. Stephen King.

Having never read his works, I was unaware of his ability to drift on about mundane, daily life and still have it be meaningful. The impetus for Jake-turned-George's travel through the bubble of time may have been to save Kennedy, but his specific method requires him to always start on a fall day in 1958, in Maine. He has years to plot and tweak before he must end Lee Harvey Oswald. Most of the novel is about the man George becomes during this time. He's an English teacher, not a history buff, so he doesn't act as a pre-vigilante, saving the world from numerous disasters. No, after a couple of local "corrections," he lives a quiet life in a small town and falls in love with Sadie.

Sadie is the new librarian. George is a new teacher. They have troubles like any couple. They dance. They help students in life-changing ways, as teachers are apt to do (is someone chopping onions?). They share their biggest secrets and suffer tragedy (must be dusty in here). They love fully and boundlessly, and that is what made me almost weepy. Who knew the Master of Horror could pen a compelling, utterly romantic story?

There are a couple of graphic and gory scenes, but nothing like what I expected. This book took me by surprise in so many ways. I don't have a copy now, but I might keep an eye out for it at used book stores. I imagine I would enjoy it again and maybe pick up on strings I missed the first time. Even though it set me farther back on my schedule, it was worth every word. 11/22/63 earns 4 1/2 Marias.



Chapter 15: A Book That Came Out The Year You Were Born

I Am The Cheese, Robert Cormier

As you can probably tell by the publishing date of this entry, this book is a very quick read. All I can think now is how did I not read this in high school maybe even middle school? I have no answer to that question, but it seems I cheated my young self.

Cormier is known for his dark YA novels, even before they were called that. Cheese is no exception. On the surface, it's the story of a boy riding his bike to visit his father. Enter Brint. Brint seems to be some sort of psychologist who is intent on helping Adam fill in some blanks in his memory. Flashing between the epic bicycle journey and these guided sessions, we learn that Adam has bigger concerns than dogs and bullies. Below the surface, we enter the disturbed mind of a child protecting himself from a horrible truth. He so actively represses the memories that they are related in third person, giving us a distinction between past and present action. Normally I detest this type of jumping around (see Chapter 3c). I like a clear narrative. But Cormier makes it work to give an extra layer of tension to the psychological drama.

The ending seems to be the biggest or most common complaint about the novel, but I can't even dislike it. In fact, I think it's perfect. Any other ending would weaken the story (and I'd probably give it fewer Marias). So, while this won't become part of my permanent library, I probably will read it again. That alone is proof that it's better than Shutter Island, to which it is often compared. I Am the Cheese earns 4 Marias.

Chapter 3c: A Trilogy

Allegiant, Veronica Roth

I did it! I finished this series! After forcing myself to get through the second installment, I was kind of dreading this one. Turns out, the finale was better.

Anyone who has read the series this far would be brain-dead to not suspect nefarious plots outside the fence. Fortunately, we aren't subjected to repeated shock-takes from our ragtag group of characters. They basically get the news, make their decisions, and act. No wishy-washy sparkly vampires here. And I gotta say, I really appreciate that Roth does not waste a lot of time rehashing what has already happened. A reader invested in a series does not need to spend chapter after chapter catching up on what they already know. But I have an admittedly spotty memory, so it took me a few passages to remember who a few of the newer operators were. No biggie. I can catch up.

So after suffering through the I-want-to-dies of Insurgent, we now have I-want-to-survive-and-kickass Tris. She's realizing that good and bad are not as black-and-white as the factions led her to believe. She's also realizing that she has her own moral compass and she plans to act on it. This is the hero that I enjoyed in the first book

The plot of the final story is fairly formulaic for this genre. Outsiders are doing evil things to unsuspecting victims. Experiments take place. Institutional racism prejudice, class warfare, government overreach, blah, blah, blah. Not new themes, but ones that clearly still are worthy of discussion. I'm not going to write off this series just because it doesn't bring anything new to the conversation. In fact, I value that it continues bringing these subjects up. Silence as consent and all that jazz.

Overall I liked reading Allegiant. It was fast, easy, and kept me focused. Tris is faced with a major decision and her choice is foreseeable, but also reasonable. Roth could have ended it in a variety of ways that may have left a more warm, fuzzy feeling, but this is the right ending for the story.

Now the nitpicking- As much as I hated being in Tris' mind for all of Insurgent, hopping between her and Tobias every chapter was annoying. I'm sure this was a difficult editorial decision given the actual plot, but I'm not sure it was the right one. I feel like a third person narrator could have done as well without the jarring transition from character to character. The addition of Tobias' voice is already incongruent with the previous books and it doesn't really add anything we couldn't get through other means. This is by far my biggest gripe with the book. Not bad for a wildly popular YA trilogy finale.

I've been coming around to the fact that a book doesn't have to be literary or highbrow or even wonderfully written to be valuable. If I can justify watching trashy television for the sake of entertainment, then I can apply the same to books. I'm going to make a pointed effort to be open to books I normally would ignore. If I get lost in a story for a few hours, it's worth it.

Happy reading, friends.

Chapter 3b: A Trilogy

Insurgent, Veronica Roth
I should call this discussion No Surprises. So here's a list of the Things That Did Not Surprise Me about this book:

• The second book of the trilogy is not as interesting as the first.
• The language has become repetitive. Every single time Tris gets injured, her vision goes black around the edges.
• Some of the Bad Guys are kind of Good Guys.
• Some of the Good Guys are kind of Bad Guys.
• The twists. I find it hard to believe anyone with a functioning brain stem did not see these coming. There's a fence around Chicago and you don't think there are people living outside that fence? Come on.

What did surprise me? The first person narrative of Divergent that pushed that story forward, drags this one down. 384 pages of Tris not wanting to live, wanting to die, wanting to sacrifice herself. 384 pages! And then when she has the chance to do just that, she changes her mind. One of the qualities that makes her the hero is that she stubbornly does things, even when she doesn't want to, even if it means hurting someone she cares about, if it means saving the world. As a Divergent, she has flexibility of character, but this sudden and major change is more like Sybil.

Editorially, I think this story could have been whittled down a lot. It seems that what could have been a handful of scenes has been stretched out into a whole novel. The war is beginning. Book One was enough of a buildup to the big battle. Here, we have more buildup, but without the emotional pressure and anticipation, and then the fight itself is glossed over and anti-climactic.

Part of me wants to grab Allegiant and be done with this series. Part of me needs a break from Roth. Here's hoping the final installment is better than this one.

Chapter 5: A Book Based on or Turned Into a TV Show

Pretty Little Liars, Sara Shepard

Confession time: PLL is one of my Netflix guilty pleasures. I won't even pretend to feel bad about it. It's a great show for many terrible reasons. But what about the books?

It's hard not to compare the page and screen versions. There's always discussion of time constraints and budgets and casting. So let's not bother. The show is popcorn worthy. If you want to know about the books, here's what I think.

I'd rather watch the show. The first book in the series is not a whole book. It's the beginning of a book. Unlike any other series I've ever read, there is no resolution at all. None. It's all a setup for the next book(s). I feel as ripped off by it as I did that extra season of Arrested Development. I invested my entertainment hours to a really long trailer for something else.

The writing? Not bad. The characters are pretty one-dimensional, which makes them great for a soap opera. There's nothing challenging or thought-provoking happening on the pages. Just chapter after chapter of teenage drama, mystery, and intrigue. It's easy to read, but if I didn't already watch the show, this first segment would not make me want to check out the next title. Still, I will probably read the rest of the series so I can do the aforementioned comparison.

Here's one thing, though. In this fictional elite suburb, the kids seem to be very worldly. Maybe I'm just not in touch with middle school these days (who am I kidding, I'm clearly not), but these kids are doing some pretty adult things. Not just the designer everything, but drinking, seducing older men. They seem to be exploring things at a much younger age than I remember. Maybe that's what makes them popular among the YA crowd- the escape from reality. Or maybe they are an indication of how times have changed. Either way, it doesn't always sit well with my prudish ideas. Most of the unsettling aspects have to do with men. So maybe it's my inner feminist cringing at all the exploitation of minors. I dunno. It won't stop me from reading or watching, but it does give me pause.

Anyway, that's about it. Not much material to think about, so not much to write about.

Chapter 4: A Book With More Than 500 Pages

The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt

Before I even begin discussing this book, let me tell you how this happened.  See, one of the trickeries of this challenge is that some books fall into multiple categories.* And some of them may not even exist. So, I originally selected this title to check off Pulitzer Prize-winner. The problem with checking out ebooks from the library is that you might not pay attention to the length and end up with a 700+ page novel. Enter, The Goldfinch.

Remember the Seinfeld episode where Elaine talks about how The New Yorker comics are actually not funny, but no one will admit it because they don't want to sound dumb? That's how I felt reading this book. Among other things, Tartt relies heavily on place names around New York City, which mean nothing to someone who has never been. There is also much talk about art history and appreciation that go beyond an average reader's grasp. More importantly, the details are not important to the story and could easily be edited down. Too many pages are wasted saying, "Look how learned I am!"

Ok, that's annoying enough. But what about the story? Well, it's okay. Pretty much everyone dies. The main character, Theo, should be sympathetic since his beloved mother dies early on and he survives the terrorist bomb that kills her. But he's not. He's surrounded by deeply flawed people who put way too much effort into helping him and he does not appreciate it. Still, the arc of the story is interesting and has several twists, but it could be whittled down by a few hundred pages.

For as many pages as Tartt splatters with depictions of drug-induced teenage antics (how many ways can you describe lights?) and benign, insignificant details of daily life, she then skips over 8 years completely. Theo runs away from Las Vegas as a minor and then, blink! is an adult in New York again. Running a business with a longtime friend and seemingly living a normal life minus some PTSD-related dysfunction. Eight years. Gone. Almost no indication of what happens during that time. Since a large portion of the conflict is psychological, this gap is disturbing. It's not an epilogue where we get a glimpse into the future. Oh no. There are still hundreds of pages to read.

Besides being long, I did not find this to be artful writing. It's repetitive. It's incoherent at times. Completely wrong words are used (cramps instead of clamps, for instance). And the foreshadowing is in no way nuanced. One chapter literally ends with "It would be a long time before I saw Boris again." Seriously? Well, sure, at least 8 years because we are blacked-out from that time in Theo's life. But perhaps the reunion would be sweeter if we didn't know it was coming. Same with the gun images in the hotel in Amsterdam. So much attention is drawn to it that the reader can't help but know that people are going to be shot. Soon. It's clumsy and clichéd. Writing a series of connected events is not the same as storytelling. I much prefer a good storyteller.

So, after the story has reached a final resolution, and you're feeling like things turned out pretty well, you are subjected to a couple of chapters of philosophy from the viewpoint of a drug addict. This guy, who has done tons of bad things and still lived a fairly charmed life, concludes that life just basically sucks, but he's okay with that. People have picked up after this guy for decades, and he acts like he's some victim of cosmic injustice. I just don't like him. Here, too, we discover that Theo has kept journals for years that are essentially letters to his mom. That format, to me, would have moved the story along better and really gotten at the anguish that Theo never confronts. That would have been compelling and sympathetic.

Now, the nit-picking. There are things in the story that are just completely unbelievable. Theo, at 13, is worldly enough to break into people's homes and smoke pot, but he doesn't try to pick up a newspaper on the streets of New York City. He walks away from a bombed museum, covered in blood, speaks with a policeman, but is never taken to a doctor and walks home by himself without being noticed. Even with being completely sheltered from the mysterious articles about the bombing and about him specifically, Theo never Googles himself or the attack. He never shows any interest in finding out what happened the day he lost his mom.

After plowing through over 700 pages of rarely-interesting script, I feel disappointed. The Goldfinch is The Telltale Heart with a stroke of Macbeth and The Basketball Diaries thrown in for good measure. I care much more about the supporting characters than the main one. They all seem to be people fighting their own demons, while doing what they can to help the poor, orphan boy. What's interesting is that they do it in such different ways. Boris, the criminal best friend, is loyal to a fault. He pays his debts with interest and really loves Theo. Hobie, the steady father-figure, provides sanctuary, even as Theo self-destructs. And Pippa, the other-Theo, loves him enough to keep her own poison from his well.

Maybe the book is too academic. Or maybe I am too simple a reader. But this one falls short for me. If I needed a novel to take up large amounts of time, this would suffice. Since I have a lot of other things I need to attend too, The Goldfinch is a bit of a waste. Rather than making me feel dull, though, it just makes me glad I'm not among the literary elite who sing its praises.

* The challenge graphic never actually states that you must read 52 different books. At this point, I'm not ready to use the loophole to check multiple boxes for a single title. But I reserve the right to do so later.

Chapter 3a: A Trilogy

Divergent, Veronica Roth

Post-apocalyptic Chicago is now home to four factions: Abnegation, Candor, Dauntless, and Erudite. The fifth faction, Amity, lives on a farm outside the fence, raising food for all citizens. Children are raised within their parents' faction until age 16, when they undergo a screening process and then choose which faction to join. If they survive initiation, they officially join their faction. If they fail, they are doomed to roam factionless, homeless, and jobless.

Beatrice never feels fully comfortable in Abnegation. Her test results are inconclusive, so she shocks everyone and joins Dauntless. From here, we follow "Triss" through initiation and her discovery of a plan of violent revolt by one of the factions.

Aside from the Harry Potter series, I'm not usually a big fan of YA novels. Divergent is decent, and I am interested to see where the story leads. Even though it follows the basic coming-of-age saga formula, it's written well enough to keep me turning the pages. It's not challenging or particularly original, but I still recommend it for some good, mindless reading. It's dark, so probably not a beach read, but suitable for a snowed-in weekend. I can definitely see why it is so popular, and I do like that the hero is a girl (sorry, heroine just sounds too druggy).

So far in the trilogy, the writing is still fresh. Despite the regular reminders that Dauntless wear black and have tattoos and piercings, I didn't find myself rolling my eyes at overused phrases. At least she uses new ways to convey the same information. And while the novel itself is not challenging, it could lead to some deeper thought and discussion of virtue.

Since each faction is based on a single virtue, Roth plants at least one member in each who uses that characteristic for evil instead of good. Here one could argue that the bad guys don't truly belong to their faction. Or perhaps any virtue can be used for malicious purposes. Throw the Divergent- those who have more than one virtue- into the mix and you add many shades of gray to a black-and-white world.

My major annoyance with the novel is quite petty. I don't like the names of the factions. Why? Because they are not synchronous. I know it sounds silly, but I would like them all to be nouns or all to be adjectives. The mix of both rubs some part of my brain the wrong way.

The next post will not be Chapter 3b. I'm going to have to split the trilogy up and weave some other reading in between. So stick with me and check back to see what else I'm poring over.