Re:Print

Only I stand apart. And secretly, I fear it shall always be this way, me alone, belonging to no one, no tribe, always standing just outside the party. I try to push the thought away, but it has already spoken truth to my soul.

I’ve been pretty focused this last week on finally finishing up Libba Bray’s Gemma Doyle Trilogy with the final book, The Sweet Far Thing. As the third book in the trilogy has over 800 pages (almost as much as the first and second books in the series—combined), this has been a major time investment in my busy schedule.

The series has been enjoyable, though not one I would probably reread the way I would like to reread all the Harry Potter books back-to-back sometime, or Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight series once the fourth and final book, Breaking Dawn comes out in August 2008.

Bray does a wonderful job of imagining an alternate world, ‘the realms’, that is both magical and frightening. Gemma is a likeable heroine but it is very easy to get caught up in how petty and horrible her school friends usually are. Bad decisions are frequently made and Gemma gets snared more than once in a tangled web of lies and deceit. Luckily she is brutally honest about her feelings to herself, and the reader has access to those thoughts. Always feeling herself to be the outcast, when told by a teacher at her fancy finishing school that young ladies must learn to discipline their own actions and realize the importance of leading orderly lives, Gemma wonders,

Can we really conquer chaos so easily? If that were so, I should be able to prune the pandemonium of my own soul into something neat and tidy rather than this maze of wants and needs and misgivings that has me forever feeling as if I cannot fit into the landscape of things.

She is nothing if not a confused teenager, even with the obligatory corset and skirts. Now that I think about it, it’s probably because Gemma messes up so much and prioritizes so badly throughout much of this book that it is possible to like her. She’s a real person, a fully fleshed out character. In her more serious moods she makes comments like the one above, and then the next minute she’ll be obsessing over her upcoming debut in front of the Queen and whether she’ll trip while curtsying and forever be ‘that girl who fell’.

Historical fiction is especially enthralling when an author goes to the trouble of researching the period properly. Bray’s effort in The Sweet Far Thing is admirable, but unlike the first two books in the series I felt like she was trying to work in every last little historical detail she’d made a note on while researching late 19th century Britain. It’s a little distracting, when the action of the novel is so dramatic on its own.

Any recommendations on historical fiction now that Gemma’s adventures have wrapped up for this reader?

Recently I started making my way through Irish author Eoin “It’s Pronounced ‘Owen’!” Colfer’s popular Artemis Fowl series. I’ll admit, I’m rather behind on the times—the original Artemis Fowl was published in 2001, and the following four books (plus one due out this July) about the boy genius have emerged at roughly the rate of one per year.

I believe it was in early 2004 that a fellow student of fine literature mentioned the Fowl series to me and heartily recommended them—knowing that I had just finished the latest Harry Potter installment, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and would have to wait another year for the next segment of the Hogwarts adventure. The magical elements and witty writing style of Colfer’s work were sure to appeal. I have mentioned before that young adult fiction is not just meant for teenagers—anyone with a short attention span or simply a love of a well-spun tale is sure to enjoy.

My friend failed to mention the enormous difference between J.K. Rowling’s work and Colfer’s. Artemis Fowl is a criminal mastermind. That is, he enjoys cheating other people out of money for profit. And he only seems to do it in order to increase his family’s fortune, which is already extensive. He gets away with it (and keeps the reader’s interest) because he has a high IQ, and some excellent (and entertaining) backup in the form of his martial arts aficionado and gun-wielding ‘man-mountain’ servant known as Butler.

The reason one reads on is because Artemis is so darned clever, first of all, and secondly, there are moments when his humanity shines through (though he tries so hard to be evil) and the reader begins to like him despite his shabby, selfish actions.

Like the Harry Potter series, Artemis Fowl is supported by supplementary short stories and even graphic novels; the first Artemis Fowl movie is rumored to be in the works. The books are quick adventures and easy reading; I made it through The Arctic Incident before the break and neglected to check out the third book in the series, The Eternity Code, but it is on my library shortlist.

Last week I wrote optimistically about my spring break reading—thinking I’d use a little LEPrecon fairy magic to stop time and get through a stack of magazines. Unsurprisingly, not much progress was made. Did you get through your vacation reading?

Spring break means no school library hours for me this week. (Sadly, no actual spring break trip in sight, merely additional hours at my other part time job.) Naturally, many faculty and staff members were raiding the magazine rack and new fiction shelf on Friday before scattering for the week-long hiatus. I gave them the benefit of a head start (I have constant access, after all), and then snatched a number of magazines I had my eye on: the two most recent Newsweek issues (the second most recent because I haven’t had the chance to see it yet, and it has an environmental focus), the most recent Time (for its cover story on Senator Obama’s mother) and a ‘Special Issue’ National Geographic (the irresistible sanguine cover reminiscent of a Hannibal Lecter novel with its headline: ‘China: Inside the Dragon’). Since the two most recent Vogue issues were long gone, I settled for the March copy which I hadn’t properly looked at yet, with Drew Barrymore gracing the cover.

I don’t ordinarily muse about magazines on Re:Print but the truth is they represent a considerable amount of my weekly reading fare. I fondly remember reserving Friday afternoons as an undergraduate student for reading Newsweek cover to cover in a campus cafe. It was my end of the week treat, catching up on the news and issues I’d missed. These days I spend less time with more varied publications, which is probably a good thing. Naturally there are certain subscriptions I am more drawn to than others, but just the other day I found myself skimming a humorous ‘Last Word’ style editorial commentary in Outdoor Life, as it had just arrived and I was checking it in. Not one of my usual reads, but I do try to explore the materials on offer.

Back to books, however: I’ve delved at last into Eoin Colfer’s Artemis Fowl series, and a fresh copy of Libba Bray’s The Sweet Far Thing in also my hands for breezing through over the holiday. Clocking in at over 800 pages, it follows the common pattern in a series of being heftier than the volumes that came before, but I think I can manage. I’ve been looking forward to catching up with the adventures of Miss Gemma Doyle. More on both these series, after the break. So to speak.

With spring recently arrived in New England and the current intermission from my usual book-filled surroundings, the opportunity to get through large chunks of Bray’s work of historical fiction and also enjoy the sun has presented itself, even if there is no tropical getaway in my near future.

And you? Is your vacation reading different from your usual fare? When the sun comes out do you get in more reading than usual while you work on your vitamin D levels?

As part of my audio book musings I’d like to note that one series which caught my eye at my local library is Alexander McCall Smith’s The No. l Ladies’ Detective Agency a few weeks back. Four neat installments were smartly packaged in different colors and all neatly lined up in the CD section, drawing my attention. Not yet familiar with the series (turns out it’s quite a popular one) I picked one up and just then a patron came in so I returned to the circulation desk. She coincidentally returned one of the paperback versions of the series so naturally I inquired about it. At her recommendation I found the first in the series and checked it out—the audio versions being of later segments and the first installment being necessary for setting up the background of the series.

These books are sheer fun—set in present-day Bostwana and centering around the practical and clever Precious Ramotswe, a private detective (the only such lady in the whole country, she is proud to say) who is determined to “help people with the problems in their lives.” Of course there are little mysteries that Mma Ramotswe must use her sharp wits to solve, but even better are the frequent comments about particular aspects of Africa in general and Bostwana in particular that she often gives. “She loved her country, Botswana, which is a place of peace, and she loved Africa, for all its trials.” There are constant cups of strong Bush tea to be had while Mma Ramotswe calmly sits and ponders the wonders of the landscape that surrounds her, or the latest scandal involving someone-or-other’s daughter or husband and their misplaced affections or occasionally missing person. So far none of these investigations have taken more than a few days to wrap up, leaving Mma Ramotswe more time to help the reader come to admire Botswana and its people as well.

Equally at home in the governor’s mansion or a witch-doctor’s impoverished hut, Mma Romatswe is a very likeable character, sensible in her morality and practical in her methods. McCall Smith has an easy style of writing and comes across as very authentic in his knowledge of this part of the world. Indeed, on his website he writes that he tries to visit Botswana every year because he likes it so much:

I suppose that the main reason [I write about Botswana] is that I find Botswana a very interesting and admirable country. I respect the people who live there—they have built up their country very carefully and successfully. I admire their patience and their decency.

McCall Smith was born in Zimbabwe, taught law at the University of Botswana, and more recently Medical Law at the University of Edinburgh, the city where he continues to reside though his writing has been so successful that he is able to dedicate himself to the venture full time and no longer teaches. He is currently on a book tour in the US following the March 2008 of the latest installment in The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency series, and the Easter release on BBC television of The No.1 film.

I, for one, having just discovered this entertaining living author, will continue to look for his work at my local library. I checked out two of the audio books in the series just this weekend and got started immediately with The Full Cupboard of Life.

Recently I finished Lilli Thal’s Mimus and was reminded throughout the book of Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart series, and not just because both authors are translated from their native German and appeal specifically to teenagers with a burgeoning interest in fantasy.

Each author possesses an astonishing ability to outline a fantasy realm, people it with fantastic characters, and quickly provide a believable set of rules and boundaries that the action must follow. All this while not adhering to established tenets of fantasy: elves are fair, graceful and strong, dwarves are miners and love nothing more than precious metals, etc. Thal and Funke each give a fresh feel to the genre.

These authors provide a perfect starting point for young adults who grew up liking a good fable or story, but who are intimidated by thick novels or fantasy and science fiction authors with dozens of titles under their belts, each transpiring in a specific paradigm with little space given to background for new readers. Both Thal and Funke certainly know how to tell a story, and one that appeals to most ages above grammar school.

Although Mimus is Thal’s first work to be released in English, Funke’s novels are widely available. In fact, I was introduced to her fiction about two years ago while browsing in a Tokyo bookstore’s massive English language section with a friend of mine, a Japanese teacher of English who loves recommending YA fiction to me. Her testimonial was so emphatic, I bought my own copy of Inkheart, rather than borrow hers.

Coincidentally, I looked up Funke while writing this post and see that in breaking news, the cover for the third installment of Inkheart, has just been released today. Inkdeath has a release date of October 2008, so if you’re already a Funke fan, you can look forward to that.

As for Thal, with three previous award winning young adult novels released in Germany, I expect we’ll be seeing more of her work in translation as well.

Last week I mentioned getting into audio books for the first time. I must admit, I am still working my way through the 20 disc set of Christopher Paolini’s Eldest (12 CDs down, eight to go!) but this weekend something exciting was brought to my attention at my local public library.

I volunteer there on alternate Saturdays, and this week a patron asked me how to access free downloadable audio books at Listen Up! Vermont, through the Green Mountain Library Consortium. Though I had been the one to ask, “Can I help you?” I had no idea what he was referring to and couldn’t provide help without some outside assistance.

As it turns out, my local library has just this week started subscribing to a service that allows patrons to use their library card number to download audio books, which can then be burned to a CD when allowed by the publisher or transferred to an mp3 device, as well as listened to on a personal computer. Two downloads are allowed at a time, and the files expire after a week, at which point the audio book is ‘returned’ to the shelf and another patron can ‘check it out.’ With many of the newest titles, just like a popular recent release at the physical library, there is a waiting list. Older titles are often available all the time, so multiple members can download them the same week rather than waiting their turn. The selection is currently a bit limited: new releases and older classics without much in between, but new material is being added all the time.

Last week a reader recommended I check out Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy on audio book and I was happy to find it in the collection at Listen Up! Vermont, though there is a waiting list, so I got on that right away. I also had mentioned that I wanted to track down a copy of Barack Obama’s The Audacity of Hope, which is luckily available through the site as well. A mere five or six week delay while patrons in line in front of me download and listen to the files, and hopefully I’ll at least be listening to that work in time for the August Democratic National Convention here in the US, no matter who the candidates are at that point.

Libraries all over are doing their best to provide new services to patrons. Have you been to your local library lately to see what’s on offer? 

Can I get a show of hands – how many of you listen to audio books? Come on, now, don’t be shy, I know you’re out there. I’ve just started figuring out why they go out like hotcakes at the local public library where I spend some of my Saturday mornings helping out. At the moment my commute is mercifully short so I’m not drawn to audio books to make me feel like I’m wasting less time in the car. Rather, I like to do two things at once (minimum) and listening to an audio book allows me to get through some reading I’ve had sitting on the back burner while working on a project around my apartment.

Currently I’m whizzing through Eldest, Christopher Paolini’s bestselling sequel to his bestselling first novel, Eragon. Since there was all that hubbub when Eragon first came out (genius 15 year old author et cetera) it has been on my to-read list, along with about a thousand other things. Letting British-accented award-winning narrator Gerard Doyle read me the unabridged Eldest is a treat.

When I first decided to give an audio book a try a couple of months ago, it was because a patron had just returned one of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels, Thud. Something to keep me laughing, I thought, that would be good, and I always enjoy Pratchett parallel giant-turtle-centric universe. I started listening to Thud only to quickly realize I was familiar with not just the recurring characters in the series, but with the plot of this novel as well; turns out I had actually sat down and read Thud at some point in the past, holding the paperback in my own two hands, the old-fashioned way.

Disappointment quickly turned to renewed interest – I continued listening, but without the need to pay direct attention to the story at all times. It was more background noise while I puttered over the weekend. An ideal intro to the world of audio books.

With Paolini’s books however, it’s all new to me—I haven’t seen Eragon the movie yet, either—and I do need to pay attention as the action moves along swiftly and the characters are a bit complicated. I’m pleasantly surprised to find that even though I could read faster than the narrator can speak, it’s nice to move steadily through a work of fiction. (And also to not have to guess at pronunciation in the Ancient language.)

Brisingr, the third book in the Inheritance trilogy, is due out in September 2008, so we have that to look forward to. What’s your take on audio books? I know I would like to get my hands on presidential hopeful Barack Obama’s Grammy award-winning The Audacity of Hope. Any other particularly good ones I should know about?

Recently I finished Australian author Markus Zusak’s fantastic novel, The Book Thief (2006). Coming off of a disappointing read (see my post on Labyrinth), this book reaffirmed my faith in the beauty of prose—and the amazement that comes with reading something entirely new. Besides being an incredible story, this book is creative with words in a way I haven’t seen for too long. Words have an active presence, a forcefulness, almost a will of their own. Liesel, the central character in a narrative told by a surprisingly sensitive Death, is handed over to a foster mother who uses words as weapons:

She seemed to collect the words in her hand, pat them together, and hurl them across the table (35).

Elizabeth Chang writes for The Washington Post:

Death, like Liesel, has a way with words. And he recognizes them not only for the good they can do, but for the evil as well. What would Hitler have been, after all, without words? As this book reminds us, what would any of us be?

Liesel’s claim to fame, her own way of validating her existence in the bizarre microcosm of Nazi Germany, is to steal books, even before she learns how to read at the late-blooming age of 10. Once she starts the thievery, she can’t stop, and it becomes her small act of rebellion in the restrictive confines of 1940s German society.

I thought of Liesel recently when I was asked at my library job to take a pile of denuded (read: coverless), unwanted books to the recycling dumpster behind the high school cafeteria. Tossing in armful after armful of dusty, unread, out of date library books, I thought of Liesel digging a precious overheated tome out of a Nazi literary funeral pyre and hiding it under her jacket, burning herself to save the words (122). She would go to any length to save a book, no matter the effort it cost her, and no matter what the book was. And here I was, tossing them into a dumpster. I took a moment to ponder the literary relativity and the value of words. Death narrates:

Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, Liesel would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like the rain (80).

I’m looking forward to getting my hands on Zusak’s award-winning 2005 novel I am the Messenger, which was already checked out of the library when I finished The Book Thief. What was your last read that made you appreciate language in a new way?