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Yzabel / January 25, 2015

Review: Zombies – More Recent Dead

Zombies: More Recent Dead by Paula Guran

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

The living dead are more alive than ever! Zombies have become more than an iconic monster for the twenty-first century: they are now a phenomenon constantly revealing as much about ourselves – and our fascination with death, resurrection, and survival – as our love for the supernatural or post-apocalyptic speculation. Our most imaginative literary minds have been devoured by these incredible creatures and produced exciting, insightful, and unflinching new works of zombie fiction. We’ve again dug up the best stories published in the last few years and compiled them into an anthology to feed your insatiable hunger…

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Anthologies are always difficult for me to rate—so many different stories, so many authors, and you know you’re bound to find very good pieces, and some you don’t like at all. As far as collections go, this one about zombies was a fairly good one, all in all, that I would rate a 3.5 to 4 stars.

(Also, the time I spend reading a book is usually a good indicator of my interest in it, but in this case, it doesn’t apply. I was reading a couple of other zombie-themed books in the meantime, and I preferred to go slow, rather than eat too much of the same thing at once. pun totally intended, of course.)

My favourites:
– “Iphigenia in Aulis”: the story that spun “The Girl With All The Gifts”, so no surprise here. Reading this “first draft” was interesting, even though I liked the novel better (since it was more developed).
– “The Naturalist”: nasty and vicious undertones here.
– “What Maisie Knew”: a dark and twisted take on what use zombies can be. Somehow it also made me think of “Lolita”, probably because of the way the narrator views himself?
– “The Day the Music Died”: a manager trying to cover up that his money-making rock-star is actually dead. This one had a twisted, funny side that spoke to me. Don’t ask me why.
– “The Death and Life of Bob”: how zombies are not necessarily what you expect… and how dark and narrow-minded humans can be, too.
– “Jack and Jill”: parallels between the zombies and a child who’s sick with cancer and already a “living dead”, in that he knows he probably won’t stay in remission for long. (The fact that *I* actually enjoyed a story with cancer in it is mind-boggling, and speaks of how it managed to make me forget my own fears in that regard.)
– “The Gravedigger of Konstan Spring”: a remote little town where people don’t seem to stay dead for long. Disturbing, strange, quirky, and full of moments when I wondered to which extent the inhabitants would go to keep their gravedigger.
– “Chew”: disturbing not for its take on zombies, but for what actual human beings can do to other human beings.
– “What We Once Feared”: another story bent on revealing how bleak human nature can be, and how dire situations can reveal the worst in people.
– “Aftermath”: the title says it all. How people manage and how life gets back on track slowly after the cure to the zombie-virus has been found. Disturbing aspects about what killing those “zombies” actually meant.
– “Love, Resurrected”: a dark fantasy tale of sorcery, necromancy, and of a woman who has to keep battling even after the flesh has left her bones.
– “Present”: sad and touching in a terrible way.
– “Bit Rot”: when a zombie story collides with science-fiction of the space-travelling kind. The reason behind the “bit rot” was a nice change for me.

OK stories:
– “The Afflicted”: I liked the idea behind it (the elderly ones only falling ill… alas, everybody’s doom to grow old), but it deflated a bit after a while.
– “Becca at the End of the World”: the last hour of a teenager. However, it was a little too short to be as powerful as it could be IMHO.
– “Delice”: not one I’ll remember for long, but nice to read
– “Trail of Dead”: good concept, but I’m not too sure of the apprentice’s part in that (it seemed unfocused).
– “Stemming the Tide”: a little weird, though also poetic in its own way.
– “Those Beneath the Bog”: the curse on a lake, and how old folk tales shouldn’t be discarded. Perhaps a wee bit too long, though.
– “What Still Abides”: very, very weird, in that it tries to emulate Old English grammar. I can’t make up my mind about it, but overall, it still felt strange in a sort of good way for me.
– “In The Dreamtime of Lady Resurrection”: beautiful and dreamy. Not exactly a zombie story, though.
– “‘Til Death Do Us Part”: not exactly original, still enjoyable. A wife comes back from the grave, and her family tries to keep her with them.
– “The Harrowers”: the narrator’s name kind of tiped me about the ending, however it remained interesting.
– “Resurgam”: a good idea that unfortunately ended up in two storylines not meshing up together well. I still liked the Victorian narrative, though.
– “A Shepherd of the Valley”: a bit predictable.
– “The Hunt: Before and The Aftermath”: I wasn’t sure at first where this one was going, but it had interesting insights into revenge in general.

The ones I didn’t like:
– “Dead Song”: I didn’t care for the actor-narrating-story approach. Another one might have worked better, because there was a good idea behind it.
– “Pollution”: I like Japanese culture, but the tropes were too heavy-handed here.
– “Kitty’s Zombie New Year”: forgettable, I didn’t really see the point to this story.
– “Selected Sources for the Babylonian Plague of the Dead”: the narrative style didn’t do it for me at all here. Which is really too bad, because the different setting made for quite interesting grounds.
– “Rocket Man”: I don’t know if it was meant to be comical or not. It didn’t leave much of an impression (but then, I’m not too interested in base-ball for starters, which doesn’t help).
– “I Waltzed with a Zombie”: I couldn’t push myself to get interested in it, I don’t know why. I neither adore nor terribly dislike Hollywood B-movie settings in general, so maybe it was the narrative that didn’t grab me.

Note: A couple of stories are actually in poetic form, which makes them harder to rate (yes, including Neil Gaiman’s one).

Yzabel / January 20, 2015

Review: The Silence of Six

The Silence of Six by E.C. Myers

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

“What is the silence of six, and what are you going to do about it?”

These are the last words uttered by 17-year-old Max Stein’s best friend, Evan: Just moments after hacking into the live-streaming Presidential debate at their high school, he kills himself.

Haunted by the image of Evan’s death, Max’s entire world turns upside down as he suddenly finds himself the target of a corporate-government witch-hunt. Fearing for his life and fighting to prove his own innocence, Max goes on the run with no one to trust and too many unanswered questions.

Max must dust off his own hacking skills and maneuver the dangerous labyrinth of underground hacktivist networks, ever-shifting alliances, and virtual identities — all while hoping to find the truth behind the “Silence of Six” before it’s too late.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 stars, because the book wasn’t without faults. In fact, I’d probably give it 4 stars in other circumstances—that is, if I didn’t know a lot to the online world, computers in general, and hackers. Some parts I found to be too “didactic”, which would be good for a reader with a less technological background, yet tended to become annoying after a while (I really don’t need to be taught what a DDoS attack is). However, this is a “it’s not you, it’s me” kind of fault, and I don’t doubt it’s precisely what would help another person enjoy the story more.

The events in the last third of the book also seemed to move just a tad bit too fast, making things somewhat confusing. I guess I would have liked to see more hide and seek there? Or a different approach? It’s actually hard to tell. I just know that I went “huh?” in a couple of places.

I liked the main characters, the ways they went through to meeting, and how they generally thought of clever little tricks to avoid being noticed (how to trick facial recognition software, etc.). Perhaps their relationship was a little forced, but it didn’t matter that much within the flow of the story.

The reflections the book leads to when it comes to social media and their impact on our lives, were interesting as well. So many people use their real names on such media, handing out very specific information, without realising that it could be exploited. Reminding this to younger readers (middle-schoolers, the “YA crowd”…) is certainly not a bad idea at all. Anyway, the use of social media, through the giant “Panjea”, was both a reminder and a wink, and I appreciate that kind of things.

Overall, it was a light, fast-paced read that could be quite enjoyable for a lot of readers. Had I been “younger” (less experienced, with less computer/online knowledge than I have now), I’d probably have given it 4 stars.

Yzabel / January 10, 2015

Review: The Girl on the Train

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Rachel catches the same commuter train every morning. She knows it will wait at the same signal each time, overlooking a row of back gardens. She’s even started to feel like she knows the people who live in one of the houses. ‘Jess and Jason’, she calls them. Their life – as she sees it – is perfect. If only Rachel could be that happy.

And then she sees something shocking. It’s only a minute until the train moves on, but it’s enough.

Now everything’s changed. Now Rachel has a chance to become a part of the lives she’s only watched from afar.

Now they’ll see; she’s much more than just the girl on the train…

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 to 4 stars. Perhaps not the most original thriller ever for someone who’s read a lot of such books already, but for me—since I seldom read that genre—it was an interesting story. Guessing who the culprit is turned out to be relatively easy, but this book is of the kind where the whodunnit doesn’t really matter: it’s how it happened, how and why the person got there, that is the most important part. The fact that the narrators are all more or less unreliable, especially Rachel, also add to the confusion, in a good way.

The story is told in first person, from three women’s points of view, and each of those give a different insight and different sorts of tidbits, allowing to piece things together gradually. They’re all flawed protagonists in their own ways, and this can be seen as either annoying or fascinating, depending on where you stand on the matter. Sometimes, they seemed pretty weak and clingy (as in, being unhappy about their lives but not exactly doing much to change things); on the other hand, I guess we all know that big changes in general aren’t so easy to enact as it sounds, and so those protagonists are both relatable and slightly grating, because they might force us to face some problems of our own. (Had I read this book during another period in my life, I might have been uneasy, feeling like I was confronted with things I should be doing, but wasn’t.)

Whether one ends up liking or disliking the protagonists doesn’t really matter, because it’s clear they aren’t meant to be a hundred percent likeable, and that their roles are never all black or all white. Rachel’s alcohol problem and disturbing voyeuristic side (watching people from the train, imagining what their lives may be, then wanting to make her own place in those lives…). Anna who acts all righteous but who still was the proverbial bull in a chine-shop. “Jess” whose boredom is understandable, but who also twists truths in her own narrative. “Jason” who may not be such the perfect husband. And so on.

I would probably not call this book “the next Gone Girl“, though… but then, I don’t like comparing novels in general in such a way. This one stands on its own.

Yzabel / December 31, 2014

Review: The Sunken

The Sunken by S.C. Green

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

In the heart of London lies the Engine Ward, a district forged in coal and steam, where the great Engineering Sects vie for ultimate control of the country. For many, the Ward is a forbidding, desolate place, but for Nicholas Thorne, the Ward is a refuge. He has returned to London under a cloud of shadow to work for his childhood friend, the engineer Isambard Kingdom Brunel. Deep in the Ward’s bowels, Nicholas can finally escape his strange affliction – the thoughts of animals that crowd his head. But seeing Brunel interact with his mechanical creations, Nicholas is increasingly concerned that his friend may be succumbing to the allure of his growing power. That power isn’t easily cast aside, and the people of London need Brunel to protect the streets from the prehistoric monsters that roam the city. King George III has approved Brunel’s ambitious plan to erect a Wall that would shut out the swamp dragons and protect the city. But in secret, the King cultivates an army of Sunken: men twisted into flesh-eating monsters by a thirst for blood and lead. Only Nicholas and Brunel suspect that something is wrong, that the Wall might play into a more sinister purpose–to keep the people of London trapped inside.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Interesting ideas, blending 19th-century industrial Britain with religious sects based on trades. It gave the world a slightly dystopian flavour, casting skewed shadows on its inhabitants’ motives and on the way things were run. Historical events were loosely respected and used (such as the king’s madness, or Brunel’s engines and railroads), but in a way that seemed believable enough to me. Same with historical personae: sure, some of them died before 1830 (the year the story’s set in), but I didn’t exactly care. I found it nice to see them play roles both similar and slightly different.

I remain torn regarding Holman’s narrative, though: good, because it played on other senses than sight; strange, because it was the only first person point of view, and while it somehow fits with what was left by the real Holman in our world, it was also surprising. (I most often tend to feel like that when such switches occur in novels: why the need to insert such a POV in the story, what is it meant to achieve, etc.) Not uninteresting, just… questionable in places.

The story as a whole didn’t grip me as much as I thought it would. The right ingredients are here, only not always used in a way that would keep my attention span steady (for instance, some things are repeated throughout the novel, whereas others are left as mere details that demanded to be fleshed out). The society described in this book is intriguing, however at times the reader has to piece bits together just a little too much for comfort. Nothing terrible, just sometimes tiring after a while. (On the other hand, I doubt I would have appreciated page after page of explanations, so I’m not going to whine too much about this.)

Not my love-love book of the year, however I may still decide to check the next book once it’s out.

Yzabel / December 25, 2014

Review: Science… For Her!

Science…For Her! by Megan Amram

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

Megan Amram, one of Forbes’ “30 Under 30 in Hollywood & Entertainment,” Rolling Stone’s “25 Funniest People on Twitter,” and a writer for NBC’s hit show Parks and Recreation, delivers a politically, scientifically, and anatomically incorrect “textbook” that will have women screaming with laughter, and men dying to know what the noise is about.

In the vein of faux expert books by John Hodgman and Amy Sedaris, Science…for Her! is ostensibly a book of science written by a denizen of women’s magazines. Comedy writer and Twitter sensation Megan Amram showcases her fiendish wit with a pitch-perfect attack on everything from those insanely perky tips for self-improvement to our bizarre shopaholic dating culture to the socially mandated pursuit of mind-blowing sex to the cringe-worthy secret codes of food and body issues.

Part hilarious farce, part biting gender commentary, Amram blends Cosmo and science to highlight absurdities with a machine-gun of laugh-inducing lines that leave nothing and no one unscathed. Subjects include: this Spring’s ten most glamorous ways to die; tips for hosting your own big bang; what religion is right for your body type; and the most pressing issue facing women today: kale!!!

Be prepared to laugh about anything in this outrageous satirical gem.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I was hoping this one would be funny, with pokes to some “girly” magazines and their “silly” articles, yet also real scientific data in it—like a textbook with serious information, only in the shape of articles, lists of tips, etc.

It wasn’t the case. It only looked the part… until I started reading it.

Science here was reduced to a bare minimum. Nothing any high-schooler wouldn’t know, nothing really interesting, nothing to learn here. So the Earth is orbiting around the sun: big news. Reproduction: I learnt more about it in the anatomy book I got when I was 7. Either you really don’t know much about science and this is going to be useless, or you already know a bit, and it won’t be of any use to you. If there’s a middle-ground in that muddle, it’s a very thin and invisible one.

The rest didn’t save the book: it was just too heavy-handed to my taste. Like using plaster coating instead of foundation. Too full of fat jokes, rape jokes, wife-beating jokes, mean jokes, tasteless jokes in general, that went on for far too long, again and again and again. After the Nth iteration of “I can’t get over my boyfriend” and “here’s a dick” and “fat ugly bitch” and so on, I was glad I had had a few drinks in me to keep on reading. (Note: I’m only a social drinker, and a moderate one at that. When I need booze to get me through a book, it’s bad, bad news.)

There’s humour, satire and political incorrectness… and then there’s just too heavy and thick to bear. Hey, wait. Thickium: the one element you won’t find on the periodic table, because it’s atomic number is so high it actually fell off said table. See? I can do science, too.

It takes real skill to properly satirise any subject. I don’t think that skill was anywhere to be found here. In the end, I just wasted my time. (And probably would have wasted it much less if I had read an actual issue of Marie Claire, Elle, or whatever, instead. Unless the US versions of those magazines are really so much worse than the French ones, in which case I won’t ever touch them with a ten-foot pole.)

Yzabel / December 7, 2014

Review: The Accidental Alchemist

The Accidental Alchemist by Gigi Pandian

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

When Zoe Faust–herbalist, alchemist, and recent transplant to Portland, Oregon–begins unpacking her bags, she can’t help but notice she’s picked up a stow away: a living, breathing, three-and-half-foot gargoyle. Dorian Robert-Houdin is no simple automaton, nor is he a homunculus; in fact, he needs Zoe’s help to decipher a centuries-old text that explains exactly what he is. Zoe, who’s trying to put her alchemical life behind her, isn’t so sure she can help. But after a murder victim is discovered on her front porch, Zoe realized she’s tangled up in ancient intrigue that can’t be ignored.

Includes recipes!

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

1.5 stars. An interesting premise, but one I had trouble stayed focused on, and I just could never push myself to read more than a chapter or two before switching to something else.

The first chapters, with Dorian popping into Zoe’s life, his predicament, the book that needed deciphering, hinted at a good modern fantasy story. Unfortunately, the mystery that followed was too flat, and took too long to properly unveil. It could have been more of an adventure, yet it wasn’t. There wasn’t even that many alchemical concepts and knowledge to munch on.

I’d chalk a large part of this to the main character going around in circles about some things, always recalling her ability with plants, how she was not a night person, needed her healthy foods, etc. There was more cooking and vegan recipes than actual alchemy here. I know they say alchemy kind of started in the kitchen and all that, but the metaphor didn’t bring much to the story for me. I mean, it’s the Accidental Alchemist, not the Accidental Cook, so…

In turn, the sense of urgency got lost somewhere along the road. After a murder and another murder attempt, with Zoe having the potential to be seen either as the culprit or as the next victim, I would have expected more tension. When clues finally started appearing, and Zoe at last started taking them into account, I was past caring, and just wanted to finish the novel to see if Dorian could be saved.

The ending, by the way, was too rushed to my liking. I don’t have anything against McGuffins and McGuffin-plots used to introduce deeper, larger stakes; but I tend to feel frustrated when a story begins with such a plot, goes on reminding us regularly that it’s important, then brings a quick resolution after having focused on something completely different. It just makes me stop caring. (I’ll be honest, though, and mention that while I was reading this book, I was also reading another one that suffered from the exact same problem of “rushed ending”; I suppose they slightly “tainted” each other for me in that regard.)

(A minor quibble as well regarding Dorian’s speech patterns: speaking as a French expat living in the UK, seeing bits of French thrown in the middle of sentences is definitely weird. Whole sentences or exclamations, all right—it’s only natural to start speaking in your own language, before remembering you should switch to another one. But in my own experience, when this happens, we usually tend to stop and start again in English. For instance, I haven’t heard any other French expat finishing an English sentence with “n’est-ce pas”, so when the character did it, it kind of felt like “Hey, here’s a reminder I’m French”. Not needed in my opinion.)

On the bright side, I still think the basic idea was great, and I liked Dorian’s character in general, as well as the questions his existence raised: how he came to be, sure, but also how other people perceived him. When he recounted having to pass for a disfigured man who only worked for blind cooks and refused to let anyone else in the room, so that he could do what he loved without people freaking out, that was awfully sad—and a bit reminiscent of relationships such as the ones between Frankenstein’s monster and De Lacey. I always like when similar themes arise in a story (even though it was underexploited here).

Yzabel / November 25, 2014

Review: The Glass Magician

The Glass Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

Three months after returning Magician Emery Thane’s heart to his body, Ceony Twill is well on her way to becoming a Folder. Unfortunately, not all of Ceony’s thoughts have been focused on paper magic. Though she was promised romance by a fortuity box, Ceony still hasn’t broken the teacher-student barrier with Emery, despite their growing closeness.

When a magician with a penchant for revenge believes that Ceony possesses a secret, he vows to discover it…even if it tears apart the very fabric of their magical world. After a series of attacks target Ceony and catch those she holds most dear in the crossfire, Ceony knows she must find the true limits of her powers…and keep her knowledge from falling into wayward hands.

Review:

(I got a copy courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Again, an easy and fast read, much like the previous installment, but had not I already gotten a copy through NG, as mentioned above, I doubt I would’ve read it.

Some parts of the book were still pleasant. I still liked the idea behind the magic, and the more prominent use this time of Gaffers and their powers—seriously, working with mirrors, travelling through them, using them to spy on or find people? That’s awesome! It would have remained awesome if the rules of magic in that world hadn’t been broken in a snap of fingers at the end, and in a way that just any apprentice would probably think of at some point in his/her career. And who got to stumble upon it? Ceony.

Ceony this time just plunged deep into Too Stupid To Live territory, taking actions that a character as smart as she’s supposed to be would have immediately thought twice about. So, sure, she came prepared… but clearly not enough. And she definitely did not think through all her moves and what they may imply for other people. Not wanting to endanger more people is a very fine motive, only not when it ends up achieving exactly that.

As in the first volume, some historical elements were too out of place: she’s supposed to be of a struggling, working class-like background, but her father would take her to fire a gun when she was younger? This doesn’t scream “poor family background” to me, not in London at the end of 19th century. Other jarring elements included Ceony’s take on skirts and other views of women as creatures made to cook and take care of men:

“Langston didn’t seem to notice—he thought the tomatoes alone were a treat, and Ceony determined the man needed to get married right away. She wondered if Delilah could be coerced into dating him.”

This might have worked for another character. Not for a young woman who’s shown to act in daring ways, affirms her right to stay with her current master even though some may disapprove, wants to decide her own fate, and so on. Which is one of the problems I had with the romance in the first book: centered around the man, who was everything.

Speaking of the romance: still not convinced, all the more because of that weird chapter from Thane’s point of view, thrown among all the others narrated in Ceony’s, in which he thinks about his feelings for her. Less cooking this time; more fussing over things that seemed to spring out of nowhere (the allergy, for instance). Also, more blushing.

As for the villains, I found them paper-thin (pun totally intended). Grath and his fellow magicians would have been impressive in other circumstances, and their powers and cunning should have been put to better use. Instead, I never got to really understand their motives. Freeing Lira? All right, but what about a bigger plan, why have they been such targets for years (except for Excision, of course)? And Saraj. Why should the resident psychopath be Indian, and depicted in such a blatant display of “Danger: here comes the tall, dark stranger, so of course he must look suspicious, and of course those suspicions were well-founded”?

Decidedly, this isn’t working for me. (Nor is the cover, which is nice, but doesn’t look like anything that was in the book.)

Yzabel / November 18, 2014

Review: Hacker, Hoaxer, Whistleblower, Spy

Hacker, Hoaxer, Whistleblower, Spy: The Many Faces of Anonymous by Gabriella Coleman

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Here is the definitive book on the worldwide movement of hackers, pranksters, and activists that operates under the name Anonymous, by the woman the Chronicle of Higher Education calls “the leading interpreter of digital insurgency” and the Huffington Post says “knows all of Anonymous’ deepest, darkest secrets.” Half a dozen years ago, anthropologist Gabriella Coleman set out to study the rise of this global collective just as some of its adherents were turning to political protest and disruption (before Anonymous shot to fame as a key player in the Arab Spring and Occupy Wall Street). She ended up becoming so closely connected to Anonymous that some Anons claimed her as “their scholar.” Hacker, Hoaxer, Whistleblower, Spy brims with detail from inside a mysterious subculture, including chats with imprisoned hacker Jeremy Hammond and the hacker who helped put him away, Hector “Sabu” Monsegur. It’s a beautifully written book, with fascinating insights into the meaning of digital activism and little understood facets of culture in the Internet age, such as the histories of “trolling” and “the lulz.”

Review:

(I got a copy courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for a honest review.)

An interesting read, but one that I found rather hard to read all at once—probably because it felt pretty dense and dry, with a lot of information that seemed to meander at times. I guess this was kind of unavoidable, because there is just so much to learn, to research, to take into account when studying such a broad subject, involving so many people, whose approaches and means of actions are as different as each individual in the lot. Nevertheless, I only managed to read it little bits by little bits.

The book allows for a better understanding of some of the best known cases in which Anonymous (as various groups) was involved, like Chanology and WikiLeaks, among others. This is a double-edged sword, though, in that it is useful if you know at least little… but if you know nothing at all, it’s going to be very confusing.

On the other hand, the author appeared as genuinely fascinated by her research. She made a point of trying to get in (well, as “in” as possible—clearly she couldn’t “get” everything, especially not what predated the 2006-2007 years) to get a better understanding of her topic, and to cast a more critical eye on a lot of tricky aspects surrounding Anonymous as a whole: people who got access to sensitive data and exposed it, people who dabbled on the fringes, people who supported the actions labelled as “Anonymous”, etc. I was expecting more bias, but she also took care of mentioning some of the (official, governmental) moves made against certain participants in the movement, without necessarily endorsing them as “the thing to do against the Bad Hackers (because that’s what I’m supposed to say to be on the right side of the law)”. Granted, she didn’t avoid all the pitfalls; however, her research in general could have been much more biased, and fortunately wasn’t.

Yzabel / November 12, 2014

Review: The Body Electric

The Body Electric by Beth Revis

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

The future world is at peace.

Ella Shepherd has dedicated her life to using her unique gift–the ability to enter people’s dreams and memories using technology developed by her mother–to help others relive their happy memories.

But not all is at it seems.

Ella starts seeing impossible things–images of her dead father, warnings of who she cannot trust. Her government recruits her to spy on a rebel group, using her ability to experience–and influence–the memories of traitors. But the leader of the rebels claims they used to be in love–even though Ella’s never met him before in her life. Which can only mean one thing…

Someone’s altered her memory.

Ella’s gift is enough to overthrow a corrupt government or crush a growing rebel group. She is the key to stopping a war she didn’t even know was happening. But if someone else has been inside Ella’s head, she cannot trust her own memories, thoughts, or feelings.

So who can she trust?

Review:

(I got a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I had planned on reading Across the Universe ages ago, yet never got to it. Instead, I got to this one—which, from what I understand, very loosely alludes to the former. I can confirm, in any case, that not having read Beth Revis’s trilogy won’t be a problem here: the present novel is a standalone, and previous knowledge isn’t mandatory to follow its plot. Although I guess that, like me, you’ll miss a few Easter Eggs.

The story follows Ella, a girl from Malta, who struggles daily to come to terms with how sick her mother is, struck with a degenerative disease for which there is no cure. The only “cure” so far has been developed by Ella’s father; unfortunately, his death put a stop to any improvement in that regard. As a way of relieving some of her pain, Ella’s mother (a scientist as well) has created the Reverie, a system that allows people to relive their best, happiest memories in a dream-like state. But what’s been used so far as a recreational machine only has the potential to be so much more, especially after Ella realises she can link to a “dreamer”, and enter his/her Reverie to spy on and/or manipulate it.

We’re given to see the world through Ella’s prism, which is at times a narrow one, focused, as mentioned above, on what’s left of her family, and also her best friend Akilah (when they manage to communicate with each other, because the other girl is currently serving in the army). Information and world-building are thus done little by little; it’s a method I tend to prefer to large info-dumps, so depending on a reader’s preferences here, it may be a very good thing, or a problem. What I can say: I didn’t feel it difficult to get the bigger idea, even though there were moments I would have want to learn just a little more about the rest of the world, most specificically the “secessionist”, possibly “terrorism-infested” countries. This aspect made the novel feel like your average YA dystopia, but somewhat seemed both exploited and left on the side of the road at the same time.

I found Ella’s quest in general interesting, raising many questions regarding who you can trust, how can you be sure you can trust them, who is who, whether conscience resides in the brain or in the body or is yet something even more impossible to grasp. There were a few nice twists in the book about that. I just regretted the scientific aspect behind those, behind the technologies developed, wasn’t given more of an explanation—I’m not particularly a hardcore fan of hard-science SF, but I like having a little more meat on the bones, so to speak.

Another good thing about Ella: she wasn’t the average girl-falls-for-boy YA heroine. When an unknown, handsome but somehow dangerous-looking guy grasps her wrist to “warn” her about something, she doesn’t fall for his looks, she doesn’t immediately trust him: no, she punches him, which is a reaction far healthier than a lot of crap I’ve read in novels with similar characters. She looks for him for answers, but she does so knowing she may have to betray him afterwards; she’s ready to use him, not because she’s deeply manipulative, but because she’s wary, and aware that if she doesn’t do it, she might fall into a trap. After all, she doesn’t know him, while he keeps claiming the contrary: isn’t that fishy? Those reactions don’t necessarily make for a very likeable character at first, but they seemed to me definitely more believable than girl-falls-in-love-in-five-minutes. (Also there are tinges of insta-love, but they make sense… only explaining why would mean revealing too much.)

About the writing: the author delivers compelling chapters, and avoids the typical pit traps of weird metaphors (I’ve seen my share of those in YA lately…) and purple prose. This works pretty well in a no-nonsense way, and fits with the science fiction aspect.

The last chapters play a little too much on convenient happenings, which spoilt a little my enjoyment of the book. But overall, while not exceptional, I liked it. I’d deem it a 3.5*.

Yzabel / November 3, 2014

Review: The Book of Strange New Things

The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

It begins with Peter, a devoted man of faith, as he is called to the mission of a lifetime, one that takes him galaxies away from his wife, Bea. Peter becomes immersed in the mysteries of an astonishing new environment, overseen by an enigmatic corporation known only as USIC. His work introduces him to a seemingly friendly native population struggling with a dangerous illness and hungry for Peter’s teachings—his Bible is their “book of strange new things.” But Peter is rattled when Bea’s letters from home become increasingly desperate: typhoons and earthquakes are devastating whole countries, and governments are crumbling. Bea’s faith, once the guiding light of their lives, begins to falter.

Suddenly, a separation measured by an otherworldly distance, and defined both by one newly discovered world and another in a state of collapse, is threatened by an ever-widening gulf that is much less quantifiable. While Peter is reconciling the needs of his congregation with the desires of his strange employer, Bea is struggling for survival. Their trials lay bare a profound meditation on faith, love tested beyond endurance, and our responsibility to those closest to us.

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

At first I thought I’d rate this book higher: its beginning as well as premise were quite catchy, and I was fairly intrigued at what Peter, the main character, found on planet Oasis, as well as to what would happen with Beatrice, how they’d keep in contact, whether their relationship would hold, and so on.

There are very strong moments in it, especially when contrasting Peter’s privileged experience to Bea’s day-to-day life. (The fact that she lived in Great Britain, that the problems she mentioned happening there were connected to places and brands I do actually know, allowed me to connect more personally with her experience.)

However, two things turned to be a definite let-down for me. The first was insidious enough that I didn’t noticed it in the beginning, but it kept creeping back: regular allusions to other people in terms of skin colour and of characteristics that smacked of a certain… narrow-mindedness, to say the least. I don’t meab skin colour as simply descriptive, but as judgmental. For instance, a nurse from Guatemala is several times compared to an ape, and not in a shiny manner:

Nurse Flores spoke up again, her simian face unexpectedly illuminated with sharp intelligence.

(Other occurrences include her “monkey face” and “simian fingers”.)

I also found that gem, which I don’t even deem deserving any comment at this point:

She was heterosexual despite her butch appearance.

For a while, I wondered if this was part of a process regarding Peter’s character, as hints of his changing, but I’m not so sure, because it clearly didn’t fit with his acceptance of the Oasans, who were so much more different. Although at times he does come off as pretty judgmental—especially when women are concerned—and didn’t help to make me like him:

Her face betrayed no emotion, although her lips twitched once or twice. Maybe she wasn’t a strong reader, and was tempted to mouth the words?

Clearly no one would ever mouth a word while reading for any other reason than struggling with the text. And, once again, it’s about a woman.

Peter didn’t strike me as particularly likeable anyway

It didn’t matter, for the moment, that she misjudged him. She was overwhelmed, she was in distress, she needed help. Rightness or wrongness was not the point.

Yes, poor little misunderstood preacher, in his paradise light-years from Earth, with his mission of evangelising people who’ve been welcoming him with open arms, while his distressed wife struggles with worse problems and calls him on his bullshit—sorry, “misjudges” him. Not that Bea’s so much better, considering one thing she did in his back. And she has her prissy moments of I’m-so-much-better-than-you when she describes how her hospital “gets the dregs”, i.e. people who don’t have the means to get private health insurance.

So while I expected a story that’d show me the struggles of a couple trying to stay united despite the distance, and would focus as much on both parties, I got a bleak reminder about how human beings, even (especially?) the ones who preach love, can sometimes be the worst. Which, in itself, is actually brilliant writing. Just… not what I would’ve wanted to read, not now. And not with the constant lingering doubt: were those the characters‘ views, or the author‘s?

I was also not impressed with the ending: too open for such a story. Too many threads left loose. As if the author had become bored with his story, and decided to let it hang there.

Clearly there were beautiful moments in this novel, that can make you feel like you’re really “with the characters”, but the other problems kept distracting me so much that this read ended up being more tedious than pleasant.