Winding down

My finals are finished, at last! I wrote 33 pages in a week; I find the sheer volume fairly impressive. Also, as you may be able to tell from the preceding sentence, I fell in love with the semi-colon all over again.

My brain is gone, the number of cups of tea and coffee I have drunk are astronomical, my apartment is a mess, and my reading dwindled to almost nothing. But, by golly, I’m done!

Of course, now I have to clean up and pack in time to leave tomorrow morning. I haven’t done any Christmas shopping either. Thank goodness we use Old Calendar!

The Winter Prince: a review

by Elizabeth Wein

I kept hearing this title and author in the book recommendation threads on Sounis and then several other people mentioned it. So I finally checked it out. And, man, were they ever right!

Except for the prologue, the book is told in first person, from the point of view of Medraut, the illegitimate son of Artos, high king of Britain. Medraut is a complicated character. He both loves and hates his mother, Morgause, and while he loves his father, he also craves the power he knows he can never have. Perhaps his most complex relationship is with his younger brother, Artos’s legitimate son and heir, Lleu the Prince of Britain.

I’m not usually one for re-tellings of stories where the villain of the original gets off. I think the reason I liked this one so much is that Medraut is so manifestly not a victim. He is, of course, the victim of the circumstances of his birth, and a lot of his journey has to do with whether he can come to grips with those circumstances. He is bound to Morgause in ways that make him less culpable than he would otherwise be. But in the end, he chooses certain roads and actions.

I gobbled this one down between last night and this morning, but I’m hoping to go back and re-read it more carefully. I’m pretty sure there was some great writing that I accidentally skipped over because I wanted to see how the story would end.

I was reminded of several other books while reading this. The Attolia books are rather obvious, if you’ve read both them and The Winter Prince. There’s also Rosemary Sutcliff, who has the same sense of the Romano-British culture in the last days before it was engulfed by the Saxons, as well as the same lovely and loving descriptions of the British countryside. And then there’s Gerald Morris, whose Arthurian retellings are utterly different than Wein’s, but who I thought of nonetheless. I think it’s because Wein’s Gwalchmei and Morris’s Gawain seemed somehow similar, although Gwalchmei barely makes an appearance.

I will very definitely be looking for the rest of the books in this series.

Book source: Washington State

Fire: a review

by Robin McKinley and Peter Dickinson

Previously reviewed: Water

This is going to get really confusing, because I also have Kristin Cashore’s Fire out at the moment (just haven’t gotten around to reading it). SIGH.

Overall, I thought this was a strong collection, maybe more so than Water. I always knew whose story I was reading, which isn’t a bad thing–obviously both McKinley and Dickinson have distinct voices–especially since the overall focus of the collection is tight enough to give some sense of cohesion.

Thoughts on individual stories:

Phoenix by Peter Dickinson: the premise of this one was fascinating and the characterizations worked very well, I thought. I was a little confused by the setting at first; I couldn’t tell if they were meant to be in England or America, or if Ellie was American visiting England (actually, I’m still not sure about that).

Hellhound by Robin McKinley: Okay, I’m going to admit to being a bit fangirl and reading McKinley’s blog. So, given my background knowledge that McKinley has two dogs she refers to as hellhounds, I enjoyed this story a lot. Not that I’m trying to suggest that Miri is simply an extension of McKinley, although clearly they share some of the same interests. I also enjoyed the way family was shown in this one, and I felt that, although I tend to associate her work with ahistorical settings, this modern day story worked very well.

Fireworm by Dickinson: I didn’t enjoy this one quite as much, but I think it was mostly personal prejudice* against prehistoric settings, rather than anything Dickinson did.

Salamander Man by Dickinson: probably my favorite of Dickinson’s stories. The world was one of those where it’s clearly not ours, but its just enough like ours to make it seem familiar. I liked the way Dickinson drew on the historical significance of salamanders while also expanding it.

First Flight by McKinley: absolutely my favorite story of the whole book. Ern was such a likeable character and I loved the way his relationship with his older brother was shown. Their world was also fascinating, and the conflict seemed both significant and not over-drawn.

*completely irrational

Book source: Inter-library loan

The Faery Reel: a review

ed. by Terri Windling and Ellen Datlow

I finished this one in a hurry last night because it was due back at the library. So my thoughts on the last few stories are sketchier than for some of the earlier ones.

I liked “Catnyp” by Delia Sherman quite a bit. It had a fun twist on even the Beauty and the Beast, heroine saving the hero, theme. And I (naturally) loved the library setting.

“Your Garnet Eyes” by Katherine Vaz was gorgeous: beautifully written, with lovely characterization, and an unusual and interesting setting.

I found “The Faery Handbag” by Kelly Link to be unexpected and haunting. It was also a little bittersweet in the way some fairy tales are. It had a sense of hope, without tying things up too neatly.

I really, really liked “Immersed in Matter” by Nina Kiriki Hoffman. I felt that it successfully managed to avoid the “I’m doing a fairy tale variation now” feeling. There was also a lovely use of first person, and I really enjoyed the world building, which felt unusually complete for a short story.

The major disappointment of the book was “Undine” by Patricia McKillip. The conflict felt out of place and forced, as well as very Message-y (I don’t care what the message is, if I feel like the author is writing a story to make a point, I’m not going to like it).

I also liked A. M. Dellamonica’s “Dream-eaters,” which restored my faith in urban fantasy (I am not keen on that genre, for the most part. I may have read all the wrong books though).

Overall, I thought it was a strong anthology, certainly much stronger than the other Windling/Datlow anthologies I’ve read.

Book source: Western Oregon

Currently reading

Natalie is doing a fun thing where you take pictures of your currently reading and want to be reading piles and post them. Here are mine, with a brief explanation of each book.

Books I am reading, from left to right, Magic and Malice, by Patricia C. Wrede, which is one of those combination Regency and magic books. I’ve since finished it–didn’t enjoy it quite as much as the Kate and Cecy books, but it was still fun. Second, The Faery Reel, which is an anthology of fantasy stories and poems. I’ve been reading it forever. Some of the stories I’ve really liked, but for whatever reason it has not been a quick read! Third, Deep Secret by Diana Wynne Jones. This one is a total comfort read. The book you see in this picture is my recently acquired personal copy! YAY! Fourth, New Valaam at Monks’ Lagoon, about the monastery and history at Monks’ Lagoon on Spruce Island, where St. Herman of Alaska lived.

Books I want to be reading. First Flora’s Dare–I started it last night only to discover that it’s the second in a series! I thought there was something odd about that recap at the beginning, but I thought it was some sort of clever narrative device where the author (Ysabeau Wilce) was telling us what was going to happen in the story before it did. Haven’t decided if I should go ahead and read this one or wait until I’ve read the first. Second, A Civil Contract by Georgette Heyer. I stayed up until 2 last night reading this one. I’m still not sure what I think of it. I really like both of the main characters and the way it portrays their marriage, but I do wish the resolution and been a bit stronger! Third, Planet of Exile, the second in a series by Ursula LeGuin. Haven’t started it yet. Fire, by Kristin Cashore. Prequel-ish to the lovely Graceling. I’m looking forward to this one, but I haven’t picked it up yet. Frontier Wolf–for my Rosemary Sutcliff read-through. I failed to get through Sword at Sunset before it was due back, but I’m hoping that Frontier Wolf is a quicker read. Sixth, Soul Music by Terry Pratchett. Haven’t started that one yet either. Not pictured, because it was under something and I forgot about it, They Loved to Laugh by Kathryn Forbes, and St. Nicodemos the Hagiorite.

Bonus picture: my pile of books for my final essay in one of my classes:

Riddle of Stars: a review

by Patricia McKillip

I linked to a full-sized cover for this one out of habit, but believe me, you don’t want to click on it. It is terrible. TERRIBLE.

Which is a pity, because I really like this trilogy. It’s McKillip’s, for lack of a better term, ‘questy’ set. Lord of the Rings, Crown of Dalemark–hero sets out on adventure unwittingly, etc, etc. But McKillip works well with the conventions of her genre and ultimately I think that Riddle of Stars stands up as a representative of ‘questy’ fantasy done well. (The other two I mentioned are also in that category.) And although trilogies as a concept are a bit over-used themselves, I felt like this was an instance where it made sense. This story needed to be told in three parts.

The story begins with Morgon, Prince of Hed, waiting for the trading ships to arrive. When they do, they bring with them Deth, the High One’s Harpist. And with that, Morgon’s life changes forever (cue dramatic music).

Technically, the beginning of the story happens before this, when Morgon wins a riddle-game*. Deth is such a central character to the story, though, that I can see how beginning it with his arrival is the right thing to do. The first book, Riddle-master of Hed, is Morgon’s; the second, Heir of Sea and Fire, is Raederle’s; the third, Harpist in the Wind, is largely Deth’s. I remembered the twist part-way through this read-through, but I still felt the force of it when it came (actually I think it just made it all the more poignant).

While the trilogy doesn’t have the dream-like quality that I tend to associate with McKillip’s best work, it does have the same kind of haunting and almost elegaic feel to it. If you like fantasy, especially LotR, I’d definitely suggest this one.

Book source: Washington State University

* I know. It’s very Hobbit. But…it works.

Tender Morsels: a review

by Margo Lanagan

I read the first part of this book in a kind of horrified fascination. I couldn’t believe that things could possibly get any worse for Liga, and then they did. So, this book is not for the faint of heart. Really, truly. It’s like Deerskin, both content-wise and in the “I’m sure it’s good for me to read this but it’ll be once and then never again” reaction.

If you can make it through the content, which is not explicitly described but which may be all the more awful because of that, it’s a beautifully written book which really delves into some deep questions. How do we respond to pain? How do we deal with the people we came from? How can we go on living when we find out things that are really, really, really awful? The weakest part for me was the character of Collaby Dought. His character wasn’t terribly well delineated and he seemed to be there because the original story called for him and because he provided a plot function. In particular, the switch between his narrating voice and his interactions with Branza and Urdda just didn’t ring true for me.

Tender Morsels is based on “Snow White and Rose Red,” but it is quite a bit darker than the original (although I will say, on behalf of all dark-haired people how annoyed I always was that Snow White got to marry the prince and Rose Red just got the prince’s brother). Again, if you’re at all ticklish about content, this may not be the story for you. But if you think you can manage it, I think you’ll find this an ultimately rewarding and oddly hopeful story.

Obligatory cover discussion: I can’t decide which one I like better. The top one works so well on so many levels, but I do like the muted colors in the second one. Thoughts?

Book source: Portland State University

Arabella: a review

by Georgette Heyer

I have a few favorite Heyer books: Devil’s Cub, The Grand Sophy, Frederica, and Sylvester. Arabella is the latest addition to this storied company (I’m sorry. I don’t know. The words just come out somehow). Anyway, why do I like it so much? I think it’s because both Arabella and Our Hero seem genuinely nice. It’s not that they don’t make mistakes, because they do. But, in a genre where heroines tend to either be full of pluck and backbone, or full of fluffy hair and long eyelashes that make the hero think of kittens, and where the heroes tend to either be arrogant dandies or arrogant sportsmen, these two stand out. Arabella sort of fits in the kitten-ish category, but she also has a strongly developed sense of morals and compassion. She honestly cares about people and she doesn’t care who might tell her that it’s not fashionable to help those who need it. The hero sort of fits in the arrogant dandy category, but he has a genuinely nice side to him that reduces the arrogance and makes him a more real character.

In short, I enjoyed it. Also, as usual, Heyer gives us a great supporting cast, from Arabella’s brother Bertram and his friend Mr. Scunthorpe, to Lord Charles Fleetwood.

Book source: University of Oregon
Other Heyer reviews: {These Old Shades; Sprig Muslin; Sylvester; The Corinthian; The Convenient Marriage} {Cotillion} {The Talisman Ring; The Nonesuch}

Blog? What is this thing you call a blog?

So, updating. I have several very good excuses. First: it’s nearing finals, that dreaded time. Second: I have spent every spare moment in the last two days either making Christmas cookies or reading Sheldon. And when I say ‘reading Sheldon,’ I mean all eight years of it. But I’m hoping to get a few book reviews up tonight and hopefully return to a normal schedule soon.

Of sunshine and anniversaries

We apparently have another sunny day. I’m not sure what’s going on; Oregon in December is usually the epitome of greyness.

The guy next door to us is either listening to Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto or is watching something where it features. YAY! Concertos are my favorite form of music–long enough to have depth but short enough that you can hook wary listeners with them. And Tchaikovsky’s is one of my early loves.

I’m planning to make some Christmas cookies to give people. I had hoped to make springerle, but I don’t have a mold, so I think I’ll have to skip them for this year.

Yesterday one of the girls in the London program commented on a FB picture I was tagged in so I went to see which one it was. Covent Garden, the first week of the program, when I didn’t know anyone. I started going through the album and before I knew it, I was on the verge of tears. And today is the six-month anniversary of the day I left. I’m beginning to think I’ll never stop missing it.