Sympathy for the Devil

I found Troll’s Eye View in a very writerly fashion–I was doing research to see if anyone had come up with the same angle as I have for retelling “The Twelve Dancing Princesses.”  Subtitled “A Book of Villainous Tales,” it’s a collection of short stories, retelling fairy tales from the villain’s point of view.  That includes “The Twelve Dancing Princesses,” although calling the oldest princess the villain seems like a stretch (granted, she didn’t mind people being beheaded, in the original version).

The book is edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling, and has some impressive writers included, like Garth Nix, Jane Yolen and Neil Gaiman.

There were some excellent stories in here, although I was dissatisfied with a number of them too.  I don’t know if you can tell from the picture, but it’s a slim book, and they fit fifteen stories into it.  I ended up feeling that several were nice ideas that didn’t get much development.  I think I’m the wrong age for those too.  I love children’s books, and very often find ones that are completely enjoyable to me as an adult.  Many of these stories, I think, really are better for just kids, who wouldn’t mind a simpler narrative.

And there were the excellent ones.  “Castle Othello” by Nancy Farmer is really clever meld of Bluebeard and Shakespeare, with a good twist to the ending.  Neil Gaiman contributed a dark poem based on “Sleeping Beauty.”  Nix and Yolen both had some good humor, although I think the shortness of the stories limited their scope.  Ellen Kushner’s “Twelve Dancing Princesses” retelling (actually, “The Shoes that Were Danced to Pieces” was how she titled it) was a clever idea, although another one with limited development–and not the same as my idea, fortunately.

My favorite, by far and away, was “A Delicate Architecture” by Catherynne M. Valente.  This would not have been the case when I was a kid, and in fact I think it probably would have given me nightmares!  But as an adult I can appreciate the creepiness of some of the images, and the beauty of the writing.  It starts out almost as a more poetic Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with a little girl describing the wonderful creations of her father the candy-maker.  There’s beautiful, vivid imagery…until the story takes a darker turn, and then the images are just as vivid, but turn into nightmares.  (Spoiler warning, because I can’t resist telling you about it!)  The little girl becomes a young woman, until finally she learns that her father’s fanciful tale of creating her from sugar is all too true.  After that she’s treated not as a person, but as a cooking implement, and hung up on the wall of the kitchen at the royal palace, to be used for the desserts…and that’s the image that would have given me nightmares as a child!  Finally she becomes a gnarled old woman, who escapes into the woods to build a house out of candy…  It’s an excellent story, and makes me want to read more by Valente!

The book on the whole was more mixed.  But it was also a quick read, and worth it for the good ones!

An Urban Adventure from Tamora Pierce

I recently reread Terrier by Tamora Pierce, in anticipation of the third book in her Beka Cooper series coming out (Terrier is the first).  As I generally expect from Tamora Pierce’s books 🙂 it’s an excellent story with a strong female lead and solid characters of both genders.

For those familiar with Pierce’s Tortall books, Terrier is set a few hundred years earlier than her usual time period.  George Cooper is a major character in Song of the Lioness and the Trickster books, and this series is about one of his ancestors.  George is the King of Thieves, but his ancestor was a…well, I suppose policewoman is the right word, though it sounds too modern.  She’s a member of the City Guard, who are a little rough around the edges but work to keep the peace in Corus, Tortall’s capital city.

Terrier is about Beka’s first six weeks or so as a City Guard, or a Dog as they’re known in the slang.  She starts out as a Puppy, assigned to two more experienced Dogs who mentor her.  Beka is from the poor Lower City, and that’s where she chooses to work too, among the people who are often forgotten.  She quickly latches on to two crimes to investigate–one involving a string of child-kidnappings and murders, another involving mysterious, magical rocks and mass-murderings of the men hired to mine them.

I love the plot of this.  Many of Pierce’s books cover a longer scope of time, and pick up more threads.  I love that too, but I also enjoy the focus of this one.  It’s essentially a weaving of two mysteries, while Beka learns the ropes of being a Dog, and grows in the process.  Some of the character growth, especially at the beginning, seemed a bit swift, but in some ways I did enjoy the compressed timeline that made things move faster.

There’s a good cast of supporting characters, from Beka’s mentor Dogs, Goodwin and Tunstall, to her friends, among the Dogs and among thieves at the Rogue’s court–the Rogue is a bit like a mob boss, who has a tacit understanding with the Dogs because he keeps order among the criminals (that’s also George’s job, a couple centuries later).  Even the villains are well-drawn characters.  And I must say, I loved Lady Sabine, another female knight.  This was long before Alanna, when girls were allowed to hold the job.

There’s also Pounce.  Pounce is Beka’s enigmatic black cat, who has purple eyes and sometimes talks.  You may remember how much I love Faithful, Alanna’s purple-eyed, talking black cat.  Definitely not a coincidence, and we get just a little more insight into Faithful/Pounce’s origins here.  Much as I love Faithful, though, I’m not sure Pounce gets developed to the same extent.  I enjoy him immensely, but I don’t think he has the same bond with Beka that he had with Alanna.

Beka, however, is another good heroine.  She has big dreams and goes after them, and she’s a strong female role model, as Pierce is so good at writing.  She’s grittier than some of Pierce’s heroines, with her Lower City background.  This is the most urban Tortall book I’ve read–I’m not sure there’s a plant in the whole novel.  Usually other books set in Corus are at the Royal Palace, and somehow I think there’s more open park around there.  Beka has magic, but a new kind–and a grittier one!  She can hear ghosts.  People left with unfinished business–often those murdered–will end up as ghosts, inhabiting pigeons.  Beka has learned to seek out these ghosts to get clues to crimes.  She also can hear voices captured by dust devils, which apparently hang out on certain corners.

I did have one problem with Beka’s character.  She’s supposed to be shy.  I’ve read this book twice now, and I just don’t quite believe the shyness.  I find it hard to accept that a girl who grew up in the rough Lower City, who wants to be a City Guard, and who can leap into a tavern brawl, baton swinging…can’t look a new acquaintance in the eye and answer a direct question.  Fear of public speaking, sure.  Fear of approaching strangers, inability to come up with quick replies to saucy comments, sure.  But Pierce takes it one too far, I think, and it just doesn’t ring true to me with the rest of her character.

But that’s one flaw in an otherwise very good book.

There’s far less shining lights and dramatic magic and epic swordfights in this book than in many of Pierce’s others.  This is more a pound-the-pavement, get into fist-fights kind of book.  In some ways it’s darker, although there have been monsters and murders in earlier series too.  And next to something like The Hunger Games, this is a cheerful book.  I like the realism of fighting to make a positive impact in a tough world, and the hopefulness that it really is possible to do that–and to make good friends, chase your dreams, and have some laughs along the way.

Author’s Site: http://tamorapierce.com/

Exploring the Origins of Dracula

What could be a better review for Halloween than the ancestor to so much horror fiction–Bram Stoker’s Dracula.  I’d been meaning to read Dracula for ages–it was one of those classics I thought I ought to know about.

I kept not getting to it for a couple of reasons.  Mostly, I thought it might be disturbing.  It is horror, after all, and being old doesn’t prove anything–Poe can be pretty disturbing.  Or, I thought it could be very literary and difficult to read.  Fortunately, both fears proved unfounded.

To address the second one first, Dracula isn’t a difficult read, though it is slow at times.  Some books transition into the current day just fine; with others, it’s immediately obvious that they were written in the 1800s.  It’s a stylistic thing, but it’s not difficult, just dry sometimes.

As to being disturbing, it really wasn’t.  But, to give you fair warning, I do most of my reading during the day.  I’m convinced that we have some kind of deep-seated primordial instinct that makes everything seem much creepier when it’s dark out.  I have two friends who read this at night–one said it was fine, the other said it was terrifying (and she’s usually good with horror) so take from that what you will.  For me, it certainly had some dark moments and images, but it didn’t particularly give me chills and thrills.  Honestly, nothing had the tickle-your-spine creepiness of Bela Lugosi descending the stairs and purring, “I am…Drrrracula.”

Speaking of Mr. Lugosi, he’s always been my image of Count Dracula.  So I was taken aback to find Dracula described as a white-haired old man with a drooping mustache and hairy palms.   I was actually fascinated by how consistently Dracula is described as ugly and repulsive.  And this is the origin of the culture’s vampire obsession?  (But then, I find the Phantom of the Opera a plausible romantic lead, and that’s equally strange if you only read Gaston Leroux.)

The leap from Bram Stoker to Stephenie Meyer is mind-boggling.  Dracula to Twilight is a long trip.  I couldn’t imagine how we got from Stoker’s ugly, foul-smelling demon spawn, all the way to Meyer’s breathtakingly gorgeous (and sparkly!) Edward Cullen.  I talked to a friend who’s more interested in vampire literature than I am, and she tells me that the bridge is Anne Rice.  Apparently she’s the one who made the vampires seductive.  Stoker’s Dracula is not in the least seductive–the female vampires are a bit, and the Count has a certain mesmerizing quality, but it’s much more hypnotic than attractive.  110 years has clearly made a big difference in the perception of vampires.

Speaking of the gulf between portrayals, there are few characters less like Hugh Jackman than Stoker’s Van Helsing.  The Hugh Jackman movie is a fun romp about a man fighting monsters, but the original character is a sweet old man.  He wields a stake when he needs to, but he’s much more an intellectual than a fighter.

To circle back to Stoker vs. Meyer, another interesting question is whether the vampires are damned.  In Stoker, there’s no doubt about it.  He doesn’t allude or hint.  He just flat-out says that God has forsaken any and all vampires–even if you didn’t want to become one.  You get bitten a few times, drink some vampire blood (even force-fed), and you’re condemned.  It bothers me from a narrative and especially a spiritual perspective  that people could lose their souls unwillingly.  I actually have to give a nod to Meyer here for making it more complicated–the after-life of vampires is no more certain than for anyone else, and the mere fact of being a vampire doesn’t mean someone is evil.

On the other hand, when it comes to strong female characters, I’m giving that one to Stoker.  He has a couple of major female characters.  Lucy is endlessly described as sweet and good and beautiful, and not much else.  Mina, however, has got it all over Bella.  She’s right in there with the men devising their plans for fighting Dracula, and I think she has as much nerve and brains as any of them.  She ends up constrained by her gender a few times, but the men clearly hold her in immense respect, and when they do occasionally try to push her out of something (for her own protection, of course) I get the sense that she thinks she’s equally capable–and that she’s right!  Not bad, for 1897.

“Not bad” is probably a fair estimate of the entire book.  I didn’t love it, but it was definitely interesting for its place in literary history.  Taken simply as itself, it had some good characters, a good premise, it was kind of slow and I’m not crazy about the writing style.  All in all though, it was pretty good–or not bad!

An Exploration on Being Dead

Halloween is coming up, and I’ve been thinking about appropriate books to review.  Halloween is one of my favorite holidays (Costumes!  And candy!), but not the easiest for me to get into thematically with book reviews, since I don’t like horror (movies are even worse than books).  But…occasionally I like something that drifts towards the spookier side, so I’ll try to give you a few reviews of books that are Halloweenish but won’t make you (by which I mean me) afraid of the dark.

Starting us off, Being Dead by Vivian Vande Velde.  What could be more Halloween-appropriate than a collection of short stories about ghosts?  In typical ghost fashion, most have unfinished business of some sort, but what and how they go about it varies widely.

The first story, “Drop by Drop,” is probably the creepiest, though it also felt a bit unfocused.  The conclusion in some way makes a lot of the rest feel irrelevant, although I don’t want to explain beyond that as it’ll give a lot away.

“Dancing with Marjorie’s Ghost” is a wonderfully traditional-feeling ghost story, the kind someone would tell around a campfire, while “Shadow Brother” takes a very different angle–the narrator’s brother died in Vietnam, and may or may not be haunting their father.

I found “October Chill” the saddest, about a teenage girl with a terminal illness who meets a ghost from the distant past.  The title story, “Being Dead” is the funniest–while having some pathos too.  It’s about a news boy who dies suddenly, and tries his hand at haunting to set a few things right before he goes on.  I think it was my second favorite.

My favorite story (and I don’t want to give you the title because there’s no way to talk about it without spoilers, if you knew which one I was talking about) started out feeling rather flat, but then had a final twist ending that was so clever I had to go back and reread the whole thing so I could see how brilliantly it was actually put together.

I enjoyed the variety of stories and the variety of takes on ghosts.  Many had a good undercurrent of creepiness or a clever twist of some kind.  None have been haunting me, and that’s a good thing!  It’s just a good collection of interesting and engaging ghost stories.

Author’s Site: http://www.vivianvandevelde.com/

Picturing the Twelve Dancing Princesses

Have you ever stumbled on something and wondered why you didn’t know about it twenty years ago?  That’s how I feel about Kinuko Craft.  She did the cover for Wildwood Dancing, and since seeing that, a friend and I have both become a little obsessed with her art.  And apparently she’s been doing covers and illustrations for years!  How did I not discover this sooner?

Most recently, I tracked down a beautiful picture book, The Twelve Dancing Princesses by Marianna Meyer and illustrated by Kinuko Craft.  I’ve talked about the dancing princesses a lot in various other retellings, and this one doesn’t offer a lot that’s new in the story itself.  A slight twist on a few elements, but mostly a straight-forward retelling.  But the pictures are lovely.  Apparently this is just my week for talking about illustrations!

Almost every alternate page is a full-page illustration, with illustrated sidebars on the text pages.  The detail and intricacy of the art is wonderful.  Some pictures are relatively simple, such as a man working in a field (although even that has an entire sweeping landscape behind him).  Others are a swirl of faces and dresses, showing all twelve princesses.  One dark picture shows the mysterious castle on the far side of the magic lake; another is riot of color in a flower garden.

The hero is drawn a little cherubic for my taste, but the princesses and their dresses are beautiful.  I think my two favorite pictures are when the hero is approaching the castle, showing the stretch of mountains and water before him, and a picture showing dozens of couples dancing in a vast hall lit by chandeliers.

But why take my word on what they look like?  Better to just put up a few pictures!

    

Illustrator’s Site: http://www.kycraft.com/