The Quintessential Diana Wynne Jones Book

I loved reading Enchanted Glass by Diana Wynne Jones.  It was a delightful book, especially in its Diana Wynne Jones-ness.  I’ve been trying to think how to explain it.  It’s original, and new, and independent of her other books.  But so many elements I expect from her were here.

There was the earnest young boy, presently displaced, possessed of powerful magic.  There was a well-meaning though absent-minded man, also possessed of powerful magic, who holds a position of responsibility in the magical world.  There was a full cast of quirky supporting characters.  Many characters were somehow paired with others (I don’t mean romantically–in a more thematic sense).  There’s a mysterious magical threat, involving another world.  And it’s all set in an English village amidst rolling hills.

It’s like the quintessential Diana Wynne Jones book.  It all comes together to create a charming and, for fans, familiar atmosphere, while being a new book.  It makes it all rather poignant to know it was the last one published during her lifetime.

The story centers around Aidan, the earnest young boy, and Andrew, the well-meaning, absent-minded man.  Aidan is an orphan, fleeing from mysterious, magical Stalkers.  He ends up at Andrew’s big old house in the country, where Andrew is trying to figure out how to take over the magical reins from his recently-deceased grandfather.  They have adventures with magic, the Stalkers, a village fair, and an enemy neighbor with his own magic.  Also, there’s a giant, a werewolf, bizarrely large vegetables, and colored glass windows they’re sure have magic somehow.

The book is lovely–though not totally without flaws.  The point of view jumps haphazardly between Andrew and Aidan, which mixed me up occasionally.  It doesn’t help that their names have similar letters in them, making them run together sometimes so I lost track of who was thinking.

I also had a little trouble with the state of magic in this world.  Most of the characters seem to accept magic as perfectly natural–one character even mentions it when convincing Andrew to hire her as a secretary, and refers to it much the way she might refer to ability with typing.  However, I think most of the characters accept magic because they live in a particular place where magic is strong, as there are some hints that most of the rest of the world doesn’t believe in magic.  The complicated part is that Andrew has managed to forget most of what his grandfather taught him about magic.  When there’s a host of characters who think magic is ordinary, coupled with a main character who accepts magic but can’t remember much about it, I don’t know whether to view magic as ordinary or mysterious.

But both these problems, the magic and the point of view, seem to improve as the book goes on, and neither is serious enough at any point to spoil the book.  Definitely a high recommendation here.

Author’s site: http://www.dianawynnejones.com and http://www.leemac.freeserve.co.uk/

Romance and Religion in the Middle Ages

In my ongoing quest to find fairy tale retellings, I recently found The Healer’s Apprentice by Melanie Dickerson.  I’m actually not sure how, because it’s only very loosely Cinderella, and equally loosely Sleeping Beauty.  But it was a good read regardless.

The healer’s apprentice is Rose, who became an apprentice to dodge the arranged marriage her mother wants for her.  The setting is Germany, somewhere in the Middle Ages.  There’s a little bit of fairy tale in it, but it reminds me much more of Karen Cushman‘s books, which so vividly bring history to life (another review, perhaps).  Rose finds herself torn between the two sons of the local baron, Wilhelm and Rupert.  Meanwhile, she’s also trying to figure out if a healer is really what she wants to be.  In the background, there’s a story about an evil magician stalking Wilhelm’s betrothed.

There’s a little bit of a Mary Sue situation here, where every man seems to be intensely interested in Rose.  But a couple potential interests turn out otherwise, and Rose goes through enough ups and downs in her romances that it’s not too painful a Mary Sue.  Besides, I can deal with it better when the heroine is actually a decent person with some admirable character traits (unlike, say, Twilight).

Rose and especially Wilhelm struggle a lot with trying to do the right thing.  Part of this is centered around their religious faith, which I found very interesting.  You (or at least, I) don’t often see religious characters in fiction, especially not in something that has even a mild fairy tale element to it.  I thought Dickerson handled it very well, in that their religious convictions seem plausible for their time period, without feeling archaic either.  Some of the morality tales and religious beliefs of past centuries don’t sit well with modern concepts, but there was a good balance here.

On the whole I enjoyed the book–better than Sleeping Helena, not as good as Spindle’s End (although a more satisfying romance)–and all in all a good read.

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

Bradbury’s Mars

I’ve been trying to broaden my horizons in science fiction reading, and this week I broadened them all the way to Mars, by reading Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles.  I saw the movie years and years ago, remembering it only faintly, and this was my first trip through the book.

I have great respect for Mr. Bradbury…but, and I may get myself into trouble saying this, I had enormous amounts of trouble with The Martian Chronicles.

First, the essential plot: the story of humans colonizing Mars, over the recent graves of the previous civilization.  There are a series of failed exploratory missions, whose crews disappeared mysteriously.  When one finally lasts, they realize that the previous visitors infected the Martians with chicken pox and, barring a handful of survivors, the entire civilization died.  Humans get on with colonizing, but just as they’re beginning to flourish, their efforts are disrupted by atomic war back on Earth.

The presentation of the story is interesting, a series of anecdotes with no major characters throughout and only a few recurring ones.  This is almost a series of short stories, and some apparently have been published as independent stories.  I liked Bradbury’s writing, and there was something about the concept I liked.  I did feel I was reading a classic icon of a certain kind of science fiction, when there were canals on Mars and interplanetary travel could be accomplished quickly.

A few of the stories, as independent stories, were very good.  The third (failed) expedition’s experience reads like an excellent episode of The Twilight Zone, and there’s a wonderful funny story about two people who believe they’re the only man and woman on Mars.

But I had two major problems.  First, I didn’t understand the Martians.  And second, I didn’t understand the humans.

The Martians were different every time we saw them.  I couldn’t figure out what the rules were.  They’re an advanced civilization and they’re telepathic, but beyond that…  In one story they’re almost comically absurd, with names like Mr. Zzz and Miss Ggg and Mr. Iii.  In another they’re classical philosophers, with keys to the meaning of life.  In a third they’re shapeshifters, telepathically assaulted by other people’s desires, and with little control over themselves.  There seemed to be a lack of internal consistency, and I didn’t ever feel I could clearly say, this is what Martians are like.

As to the humans, I didn’t feel they behaved in a believable way.  When they emerged as individual characters they did, usually, but the attitude of the masses was baffling to me.  When the fourth (and first successful) mission lands, they realize three things: 1) Mars was home to an intelligent civilization, on an equal or more advanced level than humans; 2) this civilization died two weeks ago, because of Earth-brought disease; 3) a few Martians have survived, to disappear into the hills.

Any one of those facts should change human history.  I mean–come on!  There’s a civilization!  On Mars!  We accidentally killed them!  A few of them are still out there if we want to try to talk to them!

Every scholar, every government official, every architect, philosopher, religious leader, psychologist, scientist, visionary and dreamer should be intensely interested.  Instead, with the exception of a few characters, the overall reaction seems to be: yeah, they had nice towns.  Shame they died.  Sorry about that.  Let’s get on with building our shops and houses and roads.

No one seems to be interested in seeking the remaining Martians out.  That, at least, seems like it would be the most basic of impulses, shared by everyone.  After the mere fact of seeking them, you’d get different reactions.  I’m sure you’d get the Fear of the Other, with people wondering what weapons they have or if they’re hostile (since we did accidentally kill most of them), and some people would want to kill them before they get us.  In a more idealized world, you can’t really apologize adequately for accidental genocide, but you can at least try.  And if the Martians were willing to forgive and make friends…oh, the questions.

What’s your religion?  What are your family structures like?  What was in your history?  What do you understand about science?  What do you eat?  How do you stay out of each other’s heads, if you’re all telepaths?  And for me, I might be most interested to hear–what are your stories?  What’s your mythology?  What are your fairy tales?  Do you have Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty?  Are universal stories really universal?  What stories does every Martian child know?

But no.  The humans are more interested in building shops and installing juke boxes.

I can accept telepathic Martians who live near canals, because that’s the world Bradbury has put us in.  But I have trouble with humans who don’t behave according to what I understand as human nature.

I respect Mr. Bradbury, and I appreciate his place in science fiction.  But in the future, if I want to read about some classic sci fi Martians, I’ll be spending my time with Mr. Burroughs instead.

Author’s site: http://www.raybradbury.com/

A Dragon, an Ogre, and a Mystery

I just finished Gail Carson Levine’s latest book, A Tale of Two Castles.  I feel something of a personal attachment to this one–I read her blog with great dedication, and she’s been talking about this one coming out.  She’s also been talking about her travails right now with writing the sequel.

So I admit I was predisposed to like this one.  And it really is a fun, sweet tale.  It’s the story of Elodie, a poor farmer’s daughter who comes to the big city of Two Castles hoping to apprentice as a mansioner, an actress.  When she can’t pay for her apprenticeship, she ends up instead as assistant to the local dragon, and finds herself enmeshed in a mystery surrounding the local royalty and the local ogre.  Someone is threatening Count Jonty Um the ogre, and he enlists the dragon and Elodie to investigate.

I particularly enjoyed the dragon and the ogre.  Meenore the dragon is a detective, occasionally in the mold of Sherlock Holmes, as well as a rather creative entrepreneur, selling toasted food and heating up the blacksmith’s fire.  Meenore is referred to throughout the book as IT, rather than he or she.  Dragons apparently have gender, but don’t share the details on what he or she is, so the appropriate pronoun is IT.  I think this is a clever device that then got overused a bit, to the point that I nearly forgot Meenore had a name, IT’s referred to so often as IT.  But I like the dragon, and ITs gradually warming relationship with Elodie.

I also like the shapeshifting ogre, usually referred to as His Lordship.  I have a soft spot for characters who are feared and misunderstood by the people around them just because they’re different.  It’s that Phantom of the Opera thing.  His Lordship is kind and shy, but the people of Two Castles can’t seem to get past the fact of his ogreness.

Elodie herself is a pretty good character.  She’s only twelve, and sometimes it feels like it.  She goes off on flights of guessing about the possible solution to the mystery.  These often feel far-fetched, and I can’t quite tell if we’re meant to take them seriously, or if we’re meant to interpret them as Elodie having a wild imagination.  But aside from that she’s a pleasant girl trying to make her way in the world and do the right thing, who grows in her role as dragon’s assistant.

My library copy of this is labeled “Mystery,” and I suppose it is one, but it doesn’t really feel like it to me.  I wouldn’t recommend thinking too hard about the mystery.  If you focus instead on the book as Elodie’s adventures, which involve some mysterious happenings to solve, I think you’ll get on better.

If you’ve never read Gail Carson Levine, I have to say, go read Ella Enchanted because that one just has to be read.  If you’ve already read Ella, then by all means give A Tale of Two Castles a read!

Author’s site: http://gailcarsonlevine.com/

No Goddesses–Have a Child Genius Instead

Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer was one of those books I’d heard of, but knew nothing about.  I knew it was a popular series and…that was about it.  If I had had to guess, I would have assumed it had some relation to Greek mythology, maybe something about warriors and hunting.  I mean, toss together the Greek goddess of the hunt and a bird, what are you likely to get?

Not Appearing in This Book

An evil child genius, as it turns out.  I never did find a connection to Greek mythology (or figure out why the main character, especially a male one, is named after a Greek goddess), and no birds.  Artemis Fowl is a very wealthy twelve-year-old bent on conquering the world–or at least making even more money off of it–and isn’t scrupulous about how he does it.  His new scheme is to exploit fairies–a whole new market!

I really enjoy the concept of the fairies.  There’s a whole community, mostly living underground, hiding their existence from humans.  They have plenty of the magical and mystical powers that fairies traditionally have, but in other ways they’re treated as simply another intelligent species that sprang up on the Earth the same as humans.  I suppose that makes sense–why should fairies consider themselves myserious and otherworldly, after all?  I think you can consider this a fantasy, but in some ways it feels more like science fiction.

So I liked the idea of the fairies…but somehow I couldn’t build up much interest in the fairies as individuals.  I don’t know why, and this may be totally my thing and not relevant to someone else.  Artemis’ scheme is to kidnap a fairy, and he does–Holly Short, a member of the fairy police force.  I feel as though I should like her more than I do–she’s a tough female character trying to prove her worth in a male profession.  Put that way, she has plenty in common with Tamora Pierce’s Alanna, who has to be in my top ten favorite characters ever.  But maybe Holly felt too much like a stereotype–fine for her type, but too much a type and not an individual.

Holly’s boss (whose name I can’t remember or find!) feels even more like a stereotype: the crusty old chief with a gruff exterior and a secret heart of gold.  He’s like Perry White, minus the “Great Caesar’s ghost!”  I did enjoy Mulch, a rather creative criminal, and Foaly, a technical genius centaur with a paranoia that humans are spying on him.  But even they seemed like they should be more interesting than they were.

I liked the human characters better, although they were probably types too.  Artemis is pretty interesting.  Evil child geniuses are fun, and Colfer played a bit with the bizarre combination of a brilliant intellect in someone who really is still twelve.  There was also some nice ambiguity about how evil Artemis actually is.  Ruthless, definitely, but it wasn’t always clear whether his motivation truly was profit, or something more noble.  I like the grayness.

I also liked Butler, Artemis’ faithful sidekick and the muscle of the team.  The Butler family has been serving the Fowl family for centuries, and may be the origin of the term “butler.”  That’s fun.  Butler is enormously proficient at fighting, fiercely loyal to Artemis…but once in a while we get a glimpse that he can think for himself too.  Again, I like the grayness.

So I was up and down about the characters.  The plot was pretty good, although since it hinged on Holly’s kidnapping, it probably would have worked better if I had cared about her more.  But it was an enjoyable book, and I can see how someone else who connected better with the characters would really like it.  For myself, I’m glad that now I know what it’s about (no Greek goddesses–check) and I might pick up the next book eventually, though I haven’t rushed to get it.  But maybe some time, especially to see if the characters develop more as the series goes on.

Anyone else care to share an opinion?  🙂  I’d love to hear it!

Author’s site: http://www.artemisfowl.com/