I had deliberately not re-read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows before seeing the first installment of the film, because I was afraid that doing so would make me one of Those Fans; hyper-critical and whiny about all my favorite parts being left out. As I left the movie theater though, I was plagued by one question: "I did read this book, right?" I remembered a lot of running around in the woods and I remembered being a wreck at a certain point about 30 pages before the end, but I didn't remember most of what happened in the film. I definitely didn't remember the Ministry = Nazis, Muggles=Jews allusion being quite so heavy-handed,
So it seemed a re-read was in order, if only so I can whine and complain when the second part comes out this summer. Maybe I was wearing rose-colored glasses from the film, which I liked a lot, but DH is a better book than I remember it being. The extended travelogue through the woods of England didn't drag so much, the house elves weren't as annoying, and the last fifty pages are as wrenching and satisfying as the conclusion to any epic could hope to be.
As for the complaints/hopes/predictions for Part Two, I have only this to say: Steve Kloves, you better do right by Alan Rickman. You just better.
Can a hard-working English teacher read 100 books from the beginning of one school year to the beginning of the next? The next twelve months will tell.
Bibliocat!
Sunday, January 23, 2011
An Egyptian Binge
Since I ran through Michelle Moran's trilogy in record time, I was jonesing for a fix of fiction based in (or on) ancient Egypt. I guess I can thank Seshat (Egyptian goddess of reading) for putting these two books in my path.
Lily of the Nile by Stephanie Dray is another take on the life of the daughter of Cleopatra and Marc Antony, Cleopatra Selene. Like Moran's Cleopatra's Daughter, the story begins with the death of Selene's parents and ends with her betrothal to Juba II, the deposed Numidian prince who would become King of Mauretania. (I can't begin to tell you how much I've learned about ancient geography from Googling these defunct kingdoms!) Dray's story, though, has a much more mystical bent. Selene receives messages from Isis, her mother's patron goddess, through hieroglyphics that magically (and painfully) appear on her skin. After her initial horror, she begins to use the messages to secure her place in Octavian's kingdom, turning the emperor's fear and revulsion of Cleopatra into dependence on her daughter.
I liked the goddess-y tone of the book and the information about ancient religious practices, but in most other ways Dray's novel fell short of Moran's. Neither Selene nor Juba's character was as interesting this time around (you will recall my wicked Dead Guy crush on Juba after reading Cleopatra's Daughter) and, in fact, most of the characters were rather flat. In fact, the character I found most intriguing and layered was Octavian. And he's supposed to be the bad guy. That being said, I liked the magical realism enough that I will read Dray's future work (she's planning this to be the first in a trilogy) and wish I could be at Smith College in March, when she is giving a lecture on "Bad Girls of the Ancient World." I bet Cleo and Hatshepsut could teach these reality-TV wannabes a thing or two!
How excited was I when I found out that Rick Riordan, late of the Percy Jackson series, was starting another series based on Egyptian gods? Excited enough to brave the subway on the weekend (those of you who live in NYC will know what an ordeal that can be) to get my copy of The Red Pyramid the very same day.
Riordan did not let me down this time. I won't go into too much detail because some of my students read this blog and will also want to read the book, and I don't want to give away too much. In a nutshell: Fourteen-year-old Carter Kane has been traveling the world with his dad, a famed Egyptologist, for the six years since his mother died in a mysterious event at Cleopatra's Needle in London. On the one day of the year that he gets to spend with his estranged little sister Sadie, his dad breaks into the museum, breaks the Rosetta Stone, and releases Set, the god of chaos (among others) into the world. And that's just the first 15 pages!
Effectively orphaned, Carter and Sadie set out on a quest to find and rescue their dad, aided by their mysterious uncle Amos and the human incarnation of the cat goddess Bastet. (Although here, her name is shortened to Bast.) Their opponents? An ancient order called the House of Life who wants to keep the gods in their "proper" place, and of course, that badass Set himself. Along the way, they find out that their family has a Very Special Connection to the top three gods of Egypt (Osiris, Isis, and Horus).
Riordan's trademark sardonic narration, in-jokes, and top notch research just add to a ripping good story. Lesser authors might've fallen into the trap of using the same conceit as the Percy series (half-mortal children of gods as protagonists) but he manages to put a fresh spin on the relationship-to-the-ancients theme. I finished The Red Pyramid in two days, and can't wait till the next one comes out in May.
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| Seshat |
Lily of the Nile by Stephanie Dray is another take on the life of the daughter of Cleopatra and Marc Antony, Cleopatra Selene. Like Moran's Cleopatra's Daughter, the story begins with the death of Selene's parents and ends with her betrothal to Juba II, the deposed Numidian prince who would become King of Mauretania. (I can't begin to tell you how much I've learned about ancient geography from Googling these defunct kingdoms!) Dray's story, though, has a much more mystical bent. Selene receives messages from Isis, her mother's patron goddess, through hieroglyphics that magically (and painfully) appear on her skin. After her initial horror, she begins to use the messages to secure her place in Octavian's kingdom, turning the emperor's fear and revulsion of Cleopatra into dependence on her daughter.
I liked the goddess-y tone of the book and the information about ancient religious practices, but in most other ways Dray's novel fell short of Moran's. Neither Selene nor Juba's character was as interesting this time around (you will recall my wicked Dead Guy crush on Juba after reading Cleopatra's Daughter) and, in fact, most of the characters were rather flat. In fact, the character I found most intriguing and layered was Octavian. And he's supposed to be the bad guy. That being said, I liked the magical realism enough that I will read Dray's future work (she's planning this to be the first in a trilogy) and wish I could be at Smith College in March, when she is giving a lecture on "Bad Girls of the Ancient World." I bet Cleo and Hatshepsut could teach these reality-TV wannabes a thing or two!
Riordan did not let me down this time. I won't go into too much detail because some of my students read this blog and will also want to read the book, and I don't want to give away too much. In a nutshell: Fourteen-year-old Carter Kane has been traveling the world with his dad, a famed Egyptologist, for the six years since his mother died in a mysterious event at Cleopatra's Needle in London. On the one day of the year that he gets to spend with his estranged little sister Sadie, his dad breaks into the museum, breaks the Rosetta Stone, and releases Set, the god of chaos (among others) into the world. And that's just the first 15 pages!
Effectively orphaned, Carter and Sadie set out on a quest to find and rescue their dad, aided by their mysterious uncle Amos and the human incarnation of the cat goddess Bastet. (Although here, her name is shortened to Bast.) Their opponents? An ancient order called the House of Life who wants to keep the gods in their "proper" place, and of course, that badass Set himself. Along the way, they find out that their family has a Very Special Connection to the top three gods of Egypt (Osiris, Isis, and Horus).
Riordan's trademark sardonic narration, in-jokes, and top notch research just add to a ripping good story. Lesser authors might've fallen into the trap of using the same conceit as the Percy series (half-mortal children of gods as protagonists) but he manages to put a fresh spin on the relationship-to-the-ancients theme. I finished The Red Pyramid in two days, and can't wait till the next one comes out in May.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
The Master Still Has It
I've been reading Stephen King since...well, since I was probably too young to be reading Stephen King! I read The Shining in 7th grade, and at least part of Carrie well before that. Dude has probably been publishing since before I was born, and he hasn't lost a bit of his magic....in fact, I think that the writing he's done since his brief "retirement" is the best he's ever done. I also think that King is most effective in concentrated form- short stories and novellas - a belief that Full Dark, No Stars supports in grand style.
In the author's notes to this collection of four pieces (one could call them long short stories or short-short novels) he says that he likes to write about "ordinary people dealing with extraordinary circumstances." That is one thing that he does extremely well. Another thing he consistently blows me away by doing is by taking a common, tried-and-true motif and making it fresh and surprising. Full Dark, No Stars includes King's spin on the ghost story, the vigilante justice story, the Faustian deal-with-the-devil story, and the spouse discovering that his/her partner has been leading a secret life story. In all but one, he creates unexpected but utterly plausible twists to make the "oldest story in the world" unpredictable.
Big Driver (the vigilante justice story) is the most satisying of the stories. It has a likeable protagonist, heart-pounding action, and seems terrifyingly possible. The ghost story, 1922, is the least, and also the longest. In Danse Macabre, King said that "Terror is the finest emotion. If I can't terrify, I will aim to horrify. If I can't horrify, I'll go for the gross-out." 1922 goes for the gross-out, and that detracts from what could have been a superb ghost story. It is also the most predictable of the collection.
The other three, however, are a dark delight...not least because the author's joy in storytelling is evident in every word. There may indeed be no new stories in the world, but Stephen King seems to always find new ways to tell them.
In the author's notes to this collection of four pieces (one could call them long short stories or short-short novels) he says that he likes to write about "ordinary people dealing with extraordinary circumstances." That is one thing that he does extremely well. Another thing he consistently blows me away by doing is by taking a common, tried-and-true motif and making it fresh and surprising. Full Dark, No Stars includes King's spin on the ghost story, the vigilante justice story, the Faustian deal-with-the-devil story, and the spouse discovering that his/her partner has been leading a secret life story. In all but one, he creates unexpected but utterly plausible twists to make the "oldest story in the world" unpredictable.
Big Driver (the vigilante justice story) is the most satisying of the stories. It has a likeable protagonist, heart-pounding action, and seems terrifyingly possible. The ghost story, 1922, is the least, and also the longest. In Danse Macabre, King said that "Terror is the finest emotion. If I can't terrify, I will aim to horrify. If I can't horrify, I'll go for the gross-out." 1922 goes for the gross-out, and that detracts from what could have been a superb ghost story. It is also the most predictable of the collection.
The other three, however, are a dark delight...not least because the author's joy in storytelling is evident in every word. There may indeed be no new stories in the world, but Stephen King seems to always find new ways to tell them.
Friday, December 31, 2010
and how do we judge a man?
The Collected Poetry of Nikki Giovanni by Nikki Giovanni
Almost exactly 20 years ago, I sat in my college mentor's office whining about how much I hated my 20th Century American Literature class. Everything is so depressing, I said. So hopeless, so nihilistic, and I hate the way these authors write. Dr. C. took a small, slim volume off one of her shelves, put it in my hands, and said "I think this is what you need."
The book was Those Who Ride the Night Winds, and it started a love for Giovanni's poetry that has lasted for two decades. She is not only my favorite poet; I daresay that if she didn't exist, I wouldn't even have a favorite poet.
There are two things I love about her poetry. The first is the universality and deep emotion of her poems. Although a lot of her writing is clearly from the perspective of an African American woman who came of age in the early 60s, and I will admit that some of her earlier, more militant poetry makes me uncomfortable, it is a good kind of uncomfortable. It's the kind of uncomfortable that any human being should feel when reading about injustice. And at its heart, all of her poetry is about relationships. Relationships between men and women, between friends and rivals, Blacks and Whites, a person and herself, a person and the people she admires.
The other thing I love is her skill at taking emotions and experiences we've all had and distilling them to their purest essence. One of my favorite lines from Hemingway (from one of his worst books) is, "You have to know how complicated it is, and then write it simply." Of this, Giovanni is a master.
Nothing I write can possibly do her justice, so I encourage everyone to check her out. I'll leave you with a few of my favorite lines from one of my favorite poems, "The December of my Springs."
perhaps there will be no
difference between the foolishness of age
and the foolishness of youth
some say we are responsible
for those we love
others know we are responsible
for those who love us
Almost exactly 20 years ago, I sat in my college mentor's office whining about how much I hated my 20th Century American Literature class. Everything is so depressing, I said. So hopeless, so nihilistic, and I hate the way these authors write. Dr. C. took a small, slim volume off one of her shelves, put it in my hands, and said "I think this is what you need."
The book was Those Who Ride the Night Winds, and it started a love for Giovanni's poetry that has lasted for two decades. She is not only my favorite poet; I daresay that if she didn't exist, I wouldn't even have a favorite poet.
There are two things I love about her poetry. The first is the universality and deep emotion of her poems. Although a lot of her writing is clearly from the perspective of an African American woman who came of age in the early 60s, and I will admit that some of her earlier, more militant poetry makes me uncomfortable, it is a good kind of uncomfortable. It's the kind of uncomfortable that any human being should feel when reading about injustice. And at its heart, all of her poetry is about relationships. Relationships between men and women, between friends and rivals, Blacks and Whites, a person and herself, a person and the people she admires.
The other thing I love is her skill at taking emotions and experiences we've all had and distilling them to their purest essence. One of my favorite lines from Hemingway (from one of his worst books) is, "You have to know how complicated it is, and then write it simply." Of this, Giovanni is a master.
Nothing I write can possibly do her justice, so I encourage everyone to check her out. I'll leave you with a few of my favorite lines from one of my favorite poems, "The December of my Springs."
perhaps there will be no
difference between the foolishness of age
and the foolishness of youth
some say we are responsible
for those we love
others know we are responsible
for those who love us
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Status update...
At the four-month mark, I am at 22 books reviewed and 2 read but not yet reviewed - grand total of 24!
Seems a bit behind track, but I read like a fiend during school breaks and the summer (I literally read four books in the last week.) I was able to read and (mostly) savor 90 books during the calendar year of 2010, so I just need to step it up half a notch to make my academic year goal!
Seems a bit behind track, but I read like a fiend during school breaks and the summer (I literally read four books in the last week.) I was able to read and (mostly) savor 90 books during the calendar year of 2010, so I just need to step it up half a notch to make my academic year goal!
Merry Christmas to Me!
Thanks to wonderful friends, I have three new books with which to begin the new year:
What the Night Knows by Dean Koontz (thank you, Cindy!)
Full Dark, No Stars by Stephen King and The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot (thank you for the Nook gift card, Christine!)
I also purchased Cleopatra by Stacy Schiff...I was going to get it for the Nook, but I wanted that one as an analog book.
So I'll be getting my thriller on in early 2011!
What the Night Knows by Dean Koontz (thank you, Cindy!)
Full Dark, No Stars by Stephen King and The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot (thank you for the Nook gift card, Christine!)
I also purchased Cleopatra by Stacy Schiff...I was going to get it for the Nook, but I wanted that one as an analog book.
So I'll be getting my thriller on in early 2011!
The Ultimate Be-Yotch...
Never, ever have I worked through an author's backlist so quickly. I picked up Cleopatra's Daughter in late August, and bing-bam-boom - now I have to wait till February for my next hit of Michelle Moran's exquisitely written historical fiction.
I have to say, though, that Nefertiti is the weak link out of the three, in part because the titular character is, forgive my French, a bitch on wheels. She is every girl you ever hated in high school, on steroids. Combine Gordon Gecko, the mom from The Manchurian Candidate, and Regina George in Mean Girls and you come kind of close to Nefertiti. This charming young lady is chosen to marry the wing-nut, I mean Pharoah, Amunhotep, who she is supposed to rein in and make more stable.
Ummmm, no. She uses Amunhotep (who soon re-names himself Akenaten and begins Egypt's, if not the world's, first experiment with monotheism) to try and fulfill her own desire to be remembered forever. Fortunately, the book is narrated by N's sister Mudjodmnet (which means "Sweet Child of the Goddess Mut - no, I'm not a dork, not at all) who is very likeable, although not as strong a narrator as those in Moran's other two Egypt novels. But the tale of palace intrigue, of balancing personal desires with family obligations, is definitely worth the read.
Full disclosure: I am a complete and utter history geek, and next to the Jazz Age, I would pick ancient Egypt as the time period I'd want to live in. (When, unlike other eras I could mention, they actually BATHED.) Moran's novels make me feel as if I'm living in that period. She is utterly frank in her author's notes as to what is fact, what is fiction, and what is a blend of both. I also love the fact that she is also a history geek, and encourage all like-minded followers to visit her blog at http://michellemoran.blogspot.com/, where she posts the most amazing links to recent historical discoveries. (Like, they might have found Amelia Earhart's bones!)
Alas, I do have to wait until Feb. 2011 for Moran's next novel, in which she regrettably departs from Egypt and spins a tale of Madame Tussaud during the French Revolution, a period in which I'm not nearly as interested (and in which they bathed much less frequently.) But I'm still in. If anyone can make 18th century France smell good, it's Moran.
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