Hunting a Lost Prince

I’ve been promising a review of Mastiff, the final book in the Beka Cooper Trilogy by Tamora Pierce.  It was a good resolution to the story, an exciting adventure that tied up plenty of ends.

It begins a few years after the previous book, as Beka mourns the death of her never-before-mentioned fiance (more on him later).  It turns out she was on the verge of breaking up with him, and she’s glad of the distraction of a new Hunt–slang for a case to be solved.  In some ways this is the most focused book of the trilogy–Beka and her friends are on the trail of a kidnapped prince, and the entire book centers around this journey.

There are some strong villains in here, and I loved Beka’s friends too.  The lady knight, Sabine, had a bigger role in this book, and we had more of Pounce, Beka’s black cat.  There’s also Farmer, a new character who’s a very interesting mage.  I love it that he’s very powerful, but hides that behind a bumbling, cheerful exterior–although he really is wonderfully cheerful!

Despite a very cheery new character, this is darker than Pierce’s earlier books.  Dark things have always happened–death, slavery, violence, kidnappings.  The Beka Cooper Trilogy has always got more into the grittiness of it, though, and that’s very true here.  There’s more detail and more description of the disturbing elements.  One scene about a dead slavegirl is enough by itself to make this upper Young Adult, while Pierce’s earlier books often bounce between the Juvenile section and YA.

On the more positive side, there’s eventually some romance here, although it takes a while.  Though considering my chief problem with Bloodhound was that the romance was too fast, I won’t complain about this one!

Actually, the romance I wish there had been more of was the one with the dead fiance.  The book begins with the fiance already dead, and we only get hints about Beka’s relationship with him.  I was hoping for some kind of extended flashback, but it never came.  The hints are enough to suggest that it may have bordered on an emotionally abusive relationship, and in a strange way I think that would have been a wonderful story for Pierce to tell.  Her stories about strong women are so inspiring, and it would have been so valuable to portray one of these strong women getting emotionally mixed up and into trouble.  Beka is very capable in some ways, but she has uncertainties about relationships.  I would never believe that she’d stay with a man who hit her, but I could believe that she could be emotionally manipulated, and that would be so good for girls to see–that you can be strong and capable and still get into a bad relationship, and it doesn’t make you pathetic or worthless.

But that’s my idea, and evidently not Pierce’s vision for the book, and I can’t really criticize her for not taking the story the direction I wanted it to go.  One more serious objection I have involved a traitor in Beka’s group.  They realize someone is probably betraying them as they travel, but Beka doesn’t give much attention to that.  When the traitor’s identity finally comes out, it didn’t ring true to me.  It feels more like someone acting out of character than like a shocking reveal.

Those problems aside, it’s a great adventure with strong characters and an engaging world.  And now I can go back to looking forward to Pierce’s next book!

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

Other reviews:
YA in the Second City
Sew Skate Read
Ms. Martin Teaches Media
Yours?

The Dolphin Girl

What makes us human?  The Music of Dolphins by Karen Hesse asks this question, by looking at the world through the eyes of Mila, a human girl raised by dolphins.

Mila is picked up by the Coast Guard one day, after living in the sea for 13 years.  She’s taken to a facility where scientists help her learn language, skills, and how to live among humans.  The story centers on Mila’s growth as she learns about the human world, and on her longing for the dolphin world she knew.

My favorite part of the book is the way it’s written.  Mila tells her story herself, in a journal, and it changes dramatically as she learns.  The earliest pages are very simple, “Dick and Jane” style writing.  The font size shrinks and the words grow longer and more complex as Mila develops greater skills.  It’s a similar device as Flowers for Algernon.  Mila’s journal is punctuated by three separate passages in Mila’s head, describing her life with the dolphins.

I read this as a child and loved the change in the font and in the words.  Rereading it now, I’m more conscious of the growth in Mila’s character, from a very simplistic view of the world to a growing complexity.  She asks more questions involving “why,” has her own opinions and her own desires, and demands to be seen, not as a test subject, but as a person.

I’m sure this is a more realistic portrayal than Tarzan or The Jungle Book (fun though those are).  I don’t know enough about psychology or dolphins to be able to fully judge how accurate this is, but it feels realistic.  The ending requires a suspension of disbelief, although as a child I don’t think I realized that.  And I still find it a satisfying ending, even if I know now how completely unlikely it is.

This is a short and simply written book–Mila never approaches Shakespeare even at her most complex writing–but despite that, it gets at deep questions.  There’s a character in Pratchett’s Discworld who is described as simple but not stupid.  I think that applies here too.  It’s a simple book, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be profound.

December, 1941 in Casablanca

When I realized I had a post coming up on December 7th, I wanted something relating to World War II.  And then I thought–why not one of my favorite movies?  Which leads me to Casablanca.

I have no idea how many times I’ve watched Casablanca.  Once for a Spanish class, I watched it in Spanish, without subtitles, and followed it perfectly (and I’m not advanced in Spanish!)  If you’ve never seen it, put it at the top of your list–preferably in your native language.  🙂

Casablanca is set in the early days of World War II.  Refugees from Europe have fled to Casablanca, as part of the route to America…and now they wait–and wait–and wait, for the chance to move on.  The story centers on Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart), who runs Rick’s Cafe Americain.  Everybody comes to Rick’s–and one day Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman) walks in the door.  In a flashback, the audience learns that Rick and Ilsa had a love affair in Paris, and that Ilsa ran out on him when they fled the German invasion, which turned him into the hard-boiled cynic he is now.  Complicating matters even further, Ilsa is in Casablanca with Victor Laszlo, a resistance leader who is on the run from the Nazis–and Ilsa’s husband.  By rather questionable means, Rick is the secret possessor of two letters of transit, which could get two people safely out of Casablanca–but what will he do with them?

A mere plot description, besides being remarkably complicated (I’ve left out half of it), doesn’t do the movie justice.  It’s the characters–and the emotions of the scenes–and the incredibly brilliant dialogue that makes this movie so wonderful.

There’s a beautiful scene when the Nazi soldiers in Rick’s cafe start singing a German anthem, and Laszlo directs the band to play “La Marsiellaise,” symbol of French resistance.  The Nazis are ultimately drowned out by the singing of the crowd.  And that’s just one moment–there are probably a dozen moments that are inspiring, heart-wrenching, and moving.  I’ve never seen a movie that made me feel so strongly that every character, from Rick on down to the waiters and the gamblers, has a story behind them.

And I haven’t even mentioned my favorite character yet: Captain Louis Renault, played by Claude Rains, who in his own words is “only a poor corrupt government official,” who “blows with the wind, and right now the prevailing wind is from Vichy.”  In other words, he kowtows to the Germans.  When someone aims a gun at his heart, he responds by saying, “That is my least vulnerable spot.”  But don’t believe it!  Louis gets an enormous number of witty, clever, funny lines, and by the end of the movie we see that he has much more depth than he professes to.

A discussion on Louis leads me right into the dialogue.  I don’t think any movie is more quotable than Casablanca.  “We’ll always have Paris.”  “Here’s looking at you, kid.”  “I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”  And that’s just Bogart.  There’s also “Round up the usual suspects” (Louis), which gets quoted by people who have no idea what they’re quoting (I’ve seen it happen).  Then there’s “Play it, Sam”–Ilsa never actually says “Play it again, Sam,” despite that line’s fame.  Those are just the particularly famous ones (see several here) but there are so many others.

“I like to think you killed a man; it’s the romantic in me.” – Louis

Rick: I came to Casablanca for the waters.
Louis: The waters?  What waters?  We’re in the desert.
Rick: I was misinformed.

Ugarte: You despise me, don’t you?
Rick: If I gave you any thought, I probably would.

The line that dates this to the first seven days of December, 1941: “If it’s December 1941 in Casablanca, what time is it in New York?  I bet they’re asleep in New York.  I bet they’re asleep all over America.” – Rick

“What if you killed all of us? From every corner of Europe, hundreds, thousands would rise up to take our places. Even Nazis can’t kill that fast.” – Laszlo

I could go on for a very long time here.  I was in a class once discussing the best quotes in Casablanca, and the teacher had to ask me to stop naming ones.  🙂

The movie came out in 1942, long before World War II was decided.  Many of the actors were European, and a number of them were refugees.  It’s not hard to imagine where the intense feeling of the movie comes from.  And they bring it to life for us, seventy years after its setting.  It’s a love story, a patriotic story, a heartbreaking story and a funny one.  Watch it.  And you may find yourself deciding to play it again.

Magicians, Neo-Druids, and an Orphan Waif

What if a magician in the sideshow had real magic?  It’s a great premise…and just the smallest part of Mairelon the Magician by Patricia C. Wrede.  It’s an excellent book, but it will do you no good to read the plot summary (at least on the copy I had), as it only addresses the first twenty pages.  Sometimes I wonder who writes these things…

So, as to the actual plot: Kim is an orphan on the streets of London, a girl who disguises herself as a boy to avoid the wrong kind of attention.  A stranger hires her to spy on Mairelon the Magician, who puts on the aforementioned sideshow.  Kim quickly realizes, however, that Mairelon is not merely an illusionist, but a real magician.  That’s as far as the book jacket will take you.  That’s barely the beginning, though.  Most importantly, Kim doesn’t find it at all shocking that he can actually do magic.  You see, Kim lives in a London where magic is real–it’s an academic, rich man’s profession, but it’s real.

The setting is actually very similar to Wrede’s Sorcery and Cecilia books, a magical version of Regency England, although her blog says they are not proven to be the same world.  I’d kind of like to think that they are.  🙂

Back to the plot, beyond what the book jacket says: Mairelon apparently sees something of value in Kim, and takes her on to be trained as his assistant for his magic show.  Kim quickly finds herself enmeshed in Mairelon’s quest to find the Saltash group, several silver objects that together can do powerful magic.  The quest takes them out of London and into the countryside where everyone you trip over is also chasing the same objects, though for various reasons.

It’s an often very funny story, a good mystery, and I enjoyed the characters.  Kim is a smart girl who knows how to watch out for herself, while watching for a chance to improve her lot.  She has a soft side too, and gets fond of Mairelon, even if she’s not likely to admit it.  Mairelon is one of those flamboyant characters who can be serious underneath it, who means well and is also enormously stubborn.  So is everyone, actually, including Kim and Hunch, Mairelon’s combination guard, wagon-driver, assistant and friend.

It’s the interplay between the three of them that I like best.  Mairelon’s tends to rush blithely ahead, carefully oblivious to Hunch and Kim’s attempts to restrain him for his own good.  The result is a lot of glowering, cursing and deliberate misdirections of the conversation.  I imagine you can surmise who’s doing what.  Hunch and Kim start out disliking each either, but develop a mutual respect–but one not likely to be admitted.

The other best part is the Sons of the New Dawn, a neo-druid group who have no idea what they’re doing, but whose leader is wildly adamant about finding his Sacred Dish, which is unfortunately the same as the Saltash Platter Mairelon wants.  They’re very funny all around.

The book winds up with a final scene featuring at least a dozen people and probably the best example of written hubbub I’ve ever seen.  I confess I have trouble balancing dialogue with three or more characters–Wrede somehow writes twelve people arguing with each other.

The end is somewhat marred in that she winds up the hubbub and then spends pages explaining everything that happened.  It’s the same device as a detective story, where the detective unmasks the killer and then neatly lays out all the steps of the crime and the investigation.  It goes on a bit, though, and feels somewhat forced.  On the other hand, she gets points for not leaving the reader wondering what on earth was going on–I’ve seen books that could desperately use a few pages of someone explaining it all.

There’s a sequel to the book, which I haven’t read yet–but if anything, the plot (if I can trust the summaries!) looks even better, so I’ll be tracking that down soon.  🙂

Author’s Site: http://pcwrede.com/index.html

Following Beka to Port Caynn

In anticipation of Tamora Pierce’s newest book, Mastiff (out last month–I’m behind in my reviews!), I recently reread the first two books in her Beka Cooper trilogy.  You can see my review of Terrier for more background.  Today, my subject is Book Two, Bloodhound.

The second book is set about a year and a half after the first.  Beka has finished her training year and is a full-fledged (though junior) City Guard, or Dog as the slang has it.  Beka is taken out of the world she’s familiar with when she and her mentor, Goodwin, are sent to Port Caynn, another city in Tortall, to track a ring of counterfeiters.

It’s a solid and exciting plot; Pierce mentions somewhere in the acknowledgments that she was afraid counterfeiting wasn’t exciting enough, but I think she does very well with it.  The dangers of inflation seem abstract in the extreme, but she manages to make it very concrete.  There’s a riot when bread prices go up, and frequent concern about food shortages and starvation.  In other words, the threat feels real.

Going to a new city means a number of new characters, many of them excellent.  The villains are particularly fascinating, and I wish some of them had been given more screen time, so to speak.  There was also a transgender character, possibly the first I’ve seen in YA fantasy.  I like it that Pierce takes a contemporary social issue and puts it into a very different setting–but any message she’s making with the character is still very clear.  It’s a perfect example of fantasy’s ability to comment on the real world–and sometimes it actually has more impact when it’s in the different setting.

My favorite new character (who was technically introduced in the last book, but just barely) is Achoo, a scenthound Beka adds to her menagerie.  Achoo is a brilliant tracker–and she’s also just lovable and adorable.  One of my favorite moments in the book is when a completely ruthless villain does a total about-face and starts fawning over Achoo.

There are probably those who would say that their favorite new character is Dale, although I disagree.  Beka has a romantic fling with Dale, and while I suppose it’s well enough, I never could get into it as a romance.  Beka doesn’t know him very well, and she doesn’t trust him, which is a problem right there.  He’s a nice enough fellow, good-looking, and he likes to gamble, but we don’t know much else about him as a character.  The relationship moves fast, and I didn’t feel like Beka or I knew Dale well enough to be going where it went.  It’s not terrible–it’s just not a great romance either.

On the plus side, Beka does seem to be shedding most of the shyness that didn’t quite work for me in the first book.  By this one, she seems to be mostly just nervous about public speaking, and it felt like a much more plausible character trait.

All in all, despite a so-so romance, it’s a very good book.  There’s plenty of excitement and tension, and many characters who were adequately developed.  I’m looking forward to diving into the conclusion of the story!  Stay tuned for a review very soon.  🙂

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