Jetta Carleton's THE MOONFLOWER VINE

Hailed as a rediscovered classic, The Moonflower Vine shares many parallels with Harper Lee's famed To Kill a Mockingbird. Both are the only novels of their respective authors; both are autobiographical in nature, and focus on socio-political issues of their respective times and places without making those issues the story's focus. For Lee, it was southern rascism; for Carleton, it was women in the Midwest.

The story centers around a farming family in Missouri, the Soames family. Matthew Soames overshadows the whole family with his religious devotion, and stringent nature; Callie Soames is the family rock, and mother of four, Jessica, Leonie, Mathy, and Mary Jo. Carleton's narrative captures their triumphs, doubts, and tragedies over the course of a lifetime.

The strength of this book is undoubtedly its simple but slicing characteristics. Matthew is never convinced that he himself is good enough, a feeling he projects onto his daughters and particularly eldest Jessica; by contrast, he is constantly in conflict with himself, struggling with feelings of inferiority within himself while lording superiority over his wife, children, and the townfolk. Outisde the house he is beloved and respected; within, he barely acknowledges his family. Yet he isn't the evil tyrant we, as readers, want him to be; instead, he is a deeply divided, harsh, lost man, needing Callie probably more than she needs him.
Callie is more of an enigma, and we follow her viewpoint last in the story--the book is divided into six parts, each following the life of a separate family member. She is a much more simplistic character, but she understands Matthew perfectly; their marriage is frought with love and trials of fidelity, and patience.

The sisters, too, feel connected but are distinct enough to make this a genuine family. Jessica is the headstrong, grounded first child who makes a foolish decision, while Leonie is the anxious good-girl with her own folly. Mathy is utterly reckless, and the Mary Jo whom we only truly meet as an adult is introspective and wise beyond her years (and is undoubtedly the author; Moonflower is, after all, her only novel). The events of their lives unfold with the practicality a Midwestern story should possess; this isn't an overblown soap-opera, but rather a tale of dreams tucked quietly away into treasure chests while one house serves as a harbor for all the ships to come home to, year after year in the summers.

Verdict: The story doesn't reach the heights of greatness that Mockingbird does, though it's hard to pinpoint why. However, it's a wonderful family drama and in-depth character study, and as much about one family as it is about an oft-unexplored pocket of America.

-elln

Castle Freeman Jr.'s GO WITH ME

Who names their kid "Castle"? Just had to get that out of the system.

One of the most underappreciated art forms ever, not just in America, is the novella or short novel. For most novels you can cut out a ton of the content and have a cleaner, better story. But, for some reason, people don't take them seriously. Freeman Jr.'s Go With Me should make people think twice.

In a tiny, rugged Vermont town Lillian is being stalked. A local enigma, Blackway, has killed her cat and forced her boyfriend out of the state. She doesn't have proof, so local law enforcement advises her to find other ways to deal with the situation. She seeks out the aging Lester and young Nate to help remedy the situation with Blackway; meanwhile, the town elders sit around contemplating who will win in the impending fight.

This story is cold, stark, and most importantly an analytic dissection of action and consequence in a limited, high-tension environment. This is not a book to give you warm fuzzies. It doesn't even want you to like its characters. Blackway is a frightening, looming presence, Lester is a taciturn old man, Nate barely says a word because he's a simpleton, and Lillian is willful but often a bitch even to the men helping her. And although we can barely empathize with or relate to these characters, the story still draws us in with its calculating precision and magnifying glass structure. This effect is only amplified by the stark and ruthless writing. Another pull is the mystery of Blackway, who appears but briefly in person.

The plot doesn't lumber, it builds and then races to a climax, propelling the story forward. It's a story which has been taunting us by pausing in various places along its path toward the final destination. Arguably the weakest part of the text is the council of town elders; while they do give insight into the provincialism and homespun nature of the town, they often repeat themselves...and as true to real life as that is, that doesn't make the technique interesting.

Verdict: this short but sweet mystery thriller is a dark and treacherous read.

-elln

Audrey Niffenegger's THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE

Okay, I'm off hiatus and back to reviewing.

If you'll recall I went to see the movie when it came out a few months ago, so I decided to read the book that's made such a splash. First, the concept is a clever one. Henry DeTamble is afflicted by a genetic disorder which causes him to time travel spontaneously. This isn't some magical gift, but rather a curse which plagues his life, causing him to end up in dangerous situations and to learn things about the future he would never normally know.
His wife, Clare, has known him since she was six years old because an older version of Henry traveled to the past to see her. Meanwhile, Henry meets Clare for the first time in his own timeline when he is twenty-eight. Thus begins their harrowing love story.

And this is a love story, a good one. Told in present tense, first-person narrative, it tries to get as close to the reader as can be. The sentences are direct, simple, and cutting; the characters are complex. Niffenegger's strength seems to be her unrelenting brutal and harsh portrayal of the realities of life. Even though her premise is fantastical, an ability which we would at first glance believe a blessing, she treats with eagle eye precision as an almost life-threatening illness. Clare and Henry are so in love, yet face so many troubles. Of course the title is revealing; this isn't about a woman coming into her own (a woman who is already fiercely independent), but rather about a steadfast love. By making Clare a possession of Henry in the title, Niffenegger has already relegated her to that "waiting" position she maintains throughout the book.

Despite its realistic and complex look at a single relationship, the book does have its faults. Chief among these is its diminished emotional impact. Sure, at the end I did feel that a some great saga had come to an end, but I wasn't exactly teary-eyed. This is mostly because Clare and Henry are unapologetically selfish characters. They mourn their plight, they both injure other lovers unrepentantly, they decide that they need one another despite the consequences. Perhaps these are realistic human traits-but there isn't much to ingratiate you to either character, both of whom seem to run around in circles throughout the book even as their relationship with one another changes.

The book has plenty of strengths. Its length may have been excessive, but Niffeneger pulls off the intersecting, jumping timeline structure quite well. She uses it for shocking revelations late in the book and a few excellent plot twists. And secondary to the romance of Clare and Henry is an exploration of family. Clare's family, with its dysfunctionality swept neatly under the rug and surfacing during high-tension family affairs with the aid of inebriation, rings painfully true. Developments in the Ingrid and Henry storyline, mirrored by the Gomez and Clare storyline, are a treat for the reader and often provide more insight into the two protagonists than many of their own interactions do. This is a mature and cathartic read, and it succeeds in being epic even if it does fail to rake us across the coals in an emotional sense.

-elln

Jane Yolen's THE PIT DRAGON CHRONICLES

I wish Jane Yolen wrote more books like this. In fact, I wish she wrote books like this for an older audience. If you didn't read the first three in your younger years, it might be hard to appreciate her first installment after three decades, and the final book in the quartet (yes, it's a quartet; it was meant to be a trilogy, but Yolen finally concluded the series this year with a fourth book). Dragon's Blood, Heart's Blood, and A Sending of Dragons were all written in the 1980's, and Dragon's Heart was released in 2009.

For young adult books, the politics of Penal Colony planet Austar IV get progressively sophisticated as the series continues. All the books follow the endeavors of Jakkin Stewart, a bonder working on the dragon farm of Master Sarkkhan. As arid and desert-like as Austar is, one of its major industries is dragon breeding for stews, pets, and pit fighting. In Dragon's Blood, Jakkin is unusually ambitious for a bonder, and wants to throw off the yoke of mastery by raising his own dragon; thus, when a brood is miscounted he steals away a baby dragon and begins to raise it on his own in the desert by night. Aiding him is the beautiful and mysterious Akki, the daughter of Sarkkhan; she disappears at the end of the novel, having gone to the City for unknown reasons.

In Heart's Blood, Jakkin has found success with the up-and-coming Heart's Blood, and takes her to several fights in the Rokk Major stadium; he's even won the support of the genial Master Sarkkhan, who appreciates Jakkin's drive and ambition and has given him his freedom. However, he's plunged into a world of dangerous politics when he's sent on a mission to infiltrate a rebel cell to help Akki. A struggle has begun between the ancestors of convicts (anyone with a double k in his or her name) and the wealthy feders, or off-worlders. The story ends with Heart's Blood having given birth to five hatchlings, and tragedy.

A Sending of Dragons is the strangest novel in the bunch, and chronicles the year that Jakkin, Akki, and Heart's Blood's brood spend hiding in the mountains after the disaster at the end of the last book, with their new gift of "sight," or the ability to communicate directly with dragons. They spend much of it fighting the trogs, an ancient race of people who are mute, brutish, and who inhabit the mountain and engage in dragon sacrifice to aquire their mysterious telepathic power. At the end of the novel, Jakkin and Akki are rescued and must return to civilization, hiding their dangerous new gift from everyone.

And finally, after more than ten years, a conclusion.

In Dragon's Heart, Akki makes it her mission to find a way to give everyone dragon sight without dragon slaughter; if the secret is revealed before then, the entire planet's dragon population will be endangered. Meanwhile, both Jakkin and Akki have once again been recruited by Senator Golden, the duplicitous man who had them infiltrate a rebel cell and caused them to unknowingly commit an act of terrorism.

On the whole, these books stand entirely separate from one another. Dragon's Blood is purely adventurous and blood-pumping, while Heart's Blood is the most tragic and confusing. and the end divides childhood and adulthood for both the protagonists. A Sending of Dragons is a surreal survival experience, and seems to take place on a different planet, but it certainly sets things up for the final book in which the reader feels a definite kinship with Jakkin and Akki for all of the strange things they've gone through. Dragon's Heart is the most politically-charged, and wanders into thriller territory at times; in that sense, it's more mature and also slightly disappointing. A return to the brilliant optimisn and straight-forwardness of first love and first fight of book one would have been more welcome. And after the striking realism of all four books, the ending feels empty.

These flaws are minor in the context of four of the best young adult fantasy/sci-fi novels out there. The details of Yolen's world are so simple, but so evocative. The bonder system, a history defined by crime and by names, and political strife all create a vivid world-which is the best part of the series.

-elln

Reviews Suck

Our country’s fascination with the prep subculture is ubiquitous and at times unsettling. Shows like Gossip Girl and NYC Prep document the lives of the entitled and the clueless. This phenomenon carries over into books, the literary (?) equivalent of Gossip Girl and the Clique Series (the poor-man’s Gossip Girl) are quite popular as well.

Now enter Everything Sucks. Written in the vein of Prep, Everything Sucks (subtitled: Losing My Mind and Finding Myself in a High School Quest for Cool) denounces prep school life in memoir form.

Hannah Friedman gives us a highly candid look at her life at a New York private school. The daughter of one-hit wonder, Dean Friedman and a monkey-obsessed, paranoid mother, Hannah spends her childhood and preteen years in the shadow of the family’s beloved pet monkey, Amelia. She suffers humiliation at school in the form of bra stuffing gone awry and some unfortunate fashion missteps, such as wearing a bindi to school. Soon, it becomes all too much for Hannah and she enrolls in a private school on scholarship.

Determined to fit in, Hannah makes friends with the In-Crowd, who are called the Great Eight. The Great Eight are like the Plastics, but with a seven (plus) figure trust fund. They could get together with the Heathers for a good game of croquet and could tangle with the aforementioned Plastics any day of the week. Their leader, Cashmere, disregards price tags and throws a fit at her sweet sixteen when given size 6 jeans.

Little by little Hannah becomes acquainted with the intricacies of Queen Bee-dom. She dresses the part, eats as little as possible, and ridicules the less popular. Hannah feels on top of the world for a good while. She enjoys a relationship with Adam, a rich upperclassman who has a bit of a pot problem and a chip on his shoulder. But, soon things begin to spiral out of control. She develops an “overreliance” on Adderall, cocaine, and purging.

Things come to a head for Hannah when college application season comes. The students become even more cutthroat and she writes a cathartic essay that is published in Newsweek about her experience in the application process.

In general, Hannah’s story is something that will be very familiar to many teenage girls, regardless of income or region. It is about one girl’s strong need to fit in with her peers and how far she was willing to go to achieve it. As a teenage girl I found myself cringing with her at the familiar moments of angst and embarrassment. However, there were moments when I wanted to personally tell her that these people were not worth anything that she put herself through.

Despite her fear of freakdom, Hannah Friedman gives us an honest account of how much prep school can suck.

-Acerbec

Lisa Carey's IN THE COUNTRY OF THE YOUNG

In the Country of the Young tells the story of Oisin MacDara, an artist who has isolated himself in a tiny Maine community due to horrific tragedy in his childhood, after which he lost the ability to see ghosts. Oisin is enigmatic but lacks social skills because of his hermitage and his unwillingness to interact with other people. It will take the arrival of a ghost from a shipwreck more than one hundred years ago to bring him back to life. And though Aisling isn't the ghost Oisin has waited half his life for, the literally dead and the figuratively dead will both get a second chance at life.

This is the book that makes me believe in ghosts, it's that beautifully written. If you love a good drama, a good romance, and a haunting tale of rebirth and recovery from past scars while at the same time characters drown in the past, then this is the book for you. As always, Carey's writing style is poetic and full of metaphorical language. She weaves dreams and reality, life and death, and intersecting stories together so seamlessly it's tear-inducing. Both the chronicles of Aisling and Oisin, and Oisin and Nieve, are stories to move the heart.

What else, really, is there to say about perfection?

-elln

Charles Frazier's COLD MOUNTAIN

Cold Mountain is a lyrical masterpiece, detailing two odysseys with gorgeous metaphors and simple, unembellished language. The story is of Inman and Ada in the Civil War South. Ada is in the Scarlett-esque situation of having fallen from great wealth into poverty with lots of resources. She is owner of a large farm but has no idea how to run it until vagrant Ruby appears, demanding respect in exchange for working on the farm. Inman, her pre-war sweetheart, has deserted the army after a seemingly mortal wound to the neck and a dream convinces him to visit Cold Mountain and return home.

Though Inman's story retains dream-like, almost hallucinogenic qualities narrated by a down-to-earth, disillusioned tone, it is Ada's struggle with the earth which drew me in more. Ada is actually the less likable of the two, but she grows a lot throughout the book and her expectations of life become a lot more realistic.

Perhaps because I knew the ending it didn't pack so much of a punch. The book's main letdown is that it focuses too much on the characters individually, and not on Inman and Ada's pre-war relationship. Maybe the point Frazier is making is that Inman left in the middle of a budding relationship-at the dropping off point between cursory moments and true intimacy. Their parting's awkwardness lends their relationship an insubstantiality, especially when they reunite.

The book's main strength is in Frazier's heart-felt, simple delivery, poignant metaphors, and gorgeous description. I'd read it just for the beauty of the style.

-elln

Jeffrey Eugenides' THE VIRGIN SUICIDES

Before I say anything, I'd urge people interested in purchasing the book (or film) to check out all the awesome covers available. The photography and graphics of just about every version of the work are stunning.

Composed of run-on sentences and pieced together in a reporterly manner, The Virgin Suicides is a technical masterpiece. The book tells the story of the Lisbon family living in suburbia, and the suicides of their five daughters Cecelia, Mary, Bonnie, Therese, and Lux. The entire book details the suicides from the viewpoint of the neighborhood boys who are obsessed with the Lisbon sisters as they try unsuccessfully to determine the reasons why the girls took their own lives.

The book makes effective use of rambling description and an investigative manner, piecing together accounts from neighbors, psychologists, and basically any person who came into contact with the Lisbon girls prior to their deaths. The style is what makes the book captivating, however if Jeffrey Eugenides’ goal is to make us fall in love with the Lisbon girls as much as the neighborhood boys are, he fails by a slight margin. The girls are too impersonal, too cold and isolated, and there is no way to sympathize with them; it’s often hard to understand the boys’ obsession with girls who, when they open their mouths, rarely say anything intelligent.

The true satisfaction in reading the book comes in trying to piece together a mystery, but we are told at the end of the book that there is no answer. Surely it’s a true-to-life answer, but a rather disappointing revelation.

The reason the book is captivating to the degree it is is the writing style. Words are juxtaposed in profound manners, paradoxical statements make regular appearances, and the text has a sense of continuous almost stream-of-consciousness feel to it. The novel, while probably meticulously planned, feels fresh and spontaneous. That is its best quality.

-elln

Harry Mulisch's THE ASSAULT

The Assault is a haunting, fascinating look at the effects of one traumatic event on a single life. The novel traces the events of a small neighborhood in Holland at the tail end of WWII. Anton Steenwijk is a twelve-year-old boy living with his mother, father, and brother Peter; his neighbors include the reclusive Aartses, the Kortewegs, and the kind elderly couple the Beumers. However one night before the end of the war a highly unpopular local S.S. officer, Fake Ploeg, known to be the perpetrator of many heinous crimes, is shot in front of a neighbor's house by the Underground (the resistance). Anton's neighbors, the Kortewegs, move the body in front of Anton's house (ironically named Carefree), and thus Anton's house is burned to the ground and his entire family is executed by the S.S. in retaliation.

The book follows Anton's life after the incident-his attempt to lead an inconspicous life, his conscious burial of the past, and his repression of his memories. There is a distinct struggle between fate and existentialism as over the course of Anton's life he comes into contact by chance with the people involved in that night-first the Beumers, who witnessed the execution; Fake Ploeg's son, blinded by love for his father; the man who shot Ploeg knowing the potential consequences for a family in Anton's neighborhood; and finally a member of the Korteweg family who helped move the body.

The book is translated, but the style comes through as stark and crisp. Metaphors are spare but effective when used, however symbolism is rampant (e.g. key, stone, boats).

Anton's unintended exploration of the past is just as riveting as the ultimate conclusion he reaches about the events of that night, and we can only sit, captivated, watching his unwanted journey. Anton's own ambivalence and unwillingness to judge others creates an environment where we can only take things as they come and be just as perplexed as Anton. The book blurs the lines of morality completely, throws right and wrong into chaos by presenting entangling situations, and challenges the concept of who we blame for events which happen in life.

-elln

Nicole Galland's THE FOOL'S TALE

Apparently Nicole Galland is "an award-winning screenwriter" so I'm assuming she writes her screenplays under a pseudonym because I've looked for her everywhere.

Anyway, The Fool's Tale is her first novel; I picked it up on Martha's Vineyard, where she's a native, a couple years ago when I was feeling bored. I didn't expect to be impressed with it.

...and then I stayed up until three in the morning to finish the damn thing. It's a hefty size, too, an intimidating 500+ page book with small font. The writing manages to be descriptive and a bit lengthy, but still exciting. Galland stresses in an afterward that while some characters and events are based in history, she has taken many liberties with people and places and that this is not a historically accurate novel.

The story revolves around a small Welsh kingdom in the 1100's and the deadly politics involved in keeping it afloat. Maelgwyn ap Cadwallon, nicknamed Noble, is the king of the small but relatively secure Maelienydd. His best friend is an orphan named Gwirion, who was raised beside him and has a quick wit and endless nose for trouble. Gwirion is the court's fool and harpist, and gets away with murder because the king will never punish him; Gwirion's pranks and tomfoolery make him the court's darling, and the king confides his darkest secrets in Gwirion, who saved the king's life when they were children.

Then, in an attempt to secure one of his borders, Noble marries Isabel Mortimer. Isabel proves to be intelligent, cold, and uninterested in a Welsh lifestyle, a lifestyle she considers to be distatseful and primitive. Thus ensues the tortorous relationship Isabel shares with her new husband; sometimes they are able to get along, and she enjoys his sexual attentions; however he does not love her, she does not love him, and they often argue about her status or his various affairs. Isabel and Gwirion also abhor each other, and compete for the king's attention. Isabel doesn't feel any more at home after the king makes it quite clear that Isabel will never be as important as Gwirion, the fool, is.

Slowly, a change comes about as Isabel and Gwirion make a truce after months of discord. Isabel begins to embrace the Welsh lifestyle, and grudgingly earns the admiration and love of her people. However, she is unable to produce a child, and after a poisoning causes her to miscarry her first child, she is afraid she is barren. As her uncle continually betrays Noble, Noble begins to find that his marriage to Isabel was useless. As Isabel is becoming accustomed to her life as Queen, Noble faces increasing problems with his kingdom; the English on one border continually pose a threat, and another Welsh lord by the name of Llewelyn is a rising star in Wales. We are treated to some devious political thinking and machinations. While Isabel is coming out of her shell, Noble is sinking deeper and deeper into a twisted immorality which he justifies with his charge of preservation of his kingdom.

Thus it is that, when Noble is away fighting a war, Llewelyn's men come to claim the castle, and Gwirion and Isabel are locked up together. They realize that after months of fighting, they are no longer enemies--they have a deep bond in that both are dependent on the king's whim, and are utterly powerless. For Isabel, the law and society bind her to Noble; Gwirion knows that if he tried to leave Noble, he would be hunted to the ends of the earth. When Gwirion finally sees Isabel without her wimple, or head covering, he's shocked at how beautiful she is. Their illicit affair, one of not just lust but of true intimacy, something neither has known, begins.

Galland weaves these three characters so tightly together, and creates the most awkward and horrifying experiences and close calls for two lovers trying to hide their affair, that the circumstances are literally squirm-worthy. Despite the dense text, each page is suspense-ridden as we race towards an unknown conclusion. The affair itself comes with a wealth of complications; while Gwirion and Isabel love each other truly and deeply, their obligations to Noble, who is sinking further and further into depression as he watches his kingdom fall, leave them guilt-ridden. Gwirion being loved for himself, truly himself, brings about his maturation as he gropes for the one thing Noble's never given him- dignity. Noble has never allowed Gwirion to fall in love, because Noble will not allow a woman to come between them. Noble himself is half-insane by the end of the novel, revealing that he only allowed the affair to continue because he wanted to observe two of the most honest people he knows trying to be dishonest.

The ending of the novel is shocking, but I won't reveal more than that. Noble is truly a beastly creation, yet he deserves some sympathy for his inability to love romantically, and for his ability to love his one true friend only in a demented way. No one is blameless at the novel's close, and yet each character is profoundly understandable, sympathetic, and full of surprises. That is the true triumph of Galland's novel; how intewoven the fates' of these three fully-fleshed characters are, and the powerful things she chooses to do with them.

-elln

Kenneth Oppel's STARCLIMBER

You have a guilty pleasure. Admit it. Maybe you take an hour out of each week to curl up and watch Dancing with the Stars, with only your bowl of popcorn as a witness. Maybe, hidden in the depths of your iPod full of Cannibal Corpse and Killswitch Engage, you have the complete discography of Britney Spears. Or maybe you love Twilight.

Personally, I die a little bit inside every time someone professes their undying love for Edward Cullen. But I will admit to understanding the fangirl mentality. Because I walked into the bookstore the other day and almost started crying. There, on a shelf in the back of the store, was a book that I didn't even know existed. There was only one copy, and, as it turns out, the book actually came out last fall. It was a novel by Kenneth Oppel called Starclimber, and was the sequel (well, second sequel) to a book I'd first read five years ago- Airborn. Airborn is, I suppose, my Twilight.

The books- Airborn, Skybreaker, Starclimber- are Steampunk-style novels set in an Edwardian alternate history where airships rule the skies and fantastic scientific discoveries await those with a sense of adventure and a little luck. They follow airship cabin boy Matt Cruse through a series of fantastic high-altitude adventures. It's swashbuckling romance in the style of Treasure Island. And yes, it's probably considered a children's book... but it's a well written one- something I can't say of Stephanie Meyer's novels- and between heavier novels, it's sometimes nice to read something fun and exciting. The characters are convincing and easy to relate to, and the dialogue is witty, in sharp contrast to the tepid and inane drivel that passes for conversation in other novels I've read recently.

These books are an appealing mix of the intrepid spirit of exploration and the effervescence of clinking champagne glasses, with just enough commentary on social classes and gender discrimination not to be obnoxious and just enough romance to not be sentimental. Personally, as somewhat of a fine literature snob, I found Airborn and its sequels to be thoroughly enjoyable reads.

Chris Bohjalian's SKELETONS AT THE FEAST

I was drawn to the book by its striking cover, the fuzzy photograph of a woman in a '40's dress standing in a nostalgia-ridden corn or wheat field-the blurriness makes it hard to tell which. Her scarf is blowing in the wind, and she runs a hand through her hair in a carefree gesture. She is the personification of a fondly remembered youth, and this romanticism is a departure from the normally stark Bohjalian.

The style of the book is where Bohjalian's stark writing comes into play; it's Hemingway-esque in its simplicity. This directness masks a deeper psychological profundity as the characters in Skeletons wrestle with all kinds of moral ambiguity as they cross the country in a desperate attempt at survival.

The novel is based on a real war-time diary. The setting is 1945, and it is clear that the Germans are losing WWII. The aristocratic Emmerich family, torn in their loyalties, will now make a dash for Allied lines. There is Rolf, who has only ever half-supported Hitler, and his wife, known affectionately as Mutti, who has worshipped Hitler since his election without his atrocities during the war having been made public. Anna, one of the story's main protagonists, is a conflicted and intelligent young woman torn between pride in her country and a growing horror at what is slowly coming to light about her country's actions in the war-especially toward Jews. Her twin brother, Helmut, is taken along with her father into the depleting Nazi ranks, where her elder brother Werner is already fighting, close to the beginning of the story. The other characters in their travelling band include Anna's younger brother Theo, and her lover Scottish POW Callum. Soon Nazi officer Manfred joins their party, but his real name is Uri Singer and he is hiding amongst the ranks of the very army which is singularly annihilating his people,the Jews, whilst killing any S.S. officer he can along the way.

Running parallel to all of this is the story of Cecile, a concentration camp Jew surviving by her own mettle and indomitable spirit.

The book's blunt-edged prose grounds this sweeping romance in realism as Bohjalian brings us to the heart of a bloody and brutal conflict in which death happens at the snap of two fingers, and not one character can do a single thing about it. The author isn't afraid to rip out our hearts, just as he isn't afraid to deliver us to happiness, and the ending to this epic struggle is bittersweet. The book excels on more than a stylistic and story-telling level; the characters are complex and have many of their own problems to deal with. In light of Uri's plight and the supposed murder of his entire family, he in turn murders Nazi soldiers remorselessly, some of whom are unaware of exactly what's been going on in these "camps." The reader wants to sympathize with the strong, persistent Mutti who continually puts her family first, but it becomes difficult to do so when her denial of Hitler's atrocities grows larger and larger in scope. Anna is the most conflicted character-she is a young person just emerged from her cocoon, and is beginning to form opinions about the world. When she sees what the leader of her country has done to concentration camp victims, she feels guilty and torn to call herself a German-yet she doesn't know what she can do to atone for living in ignorance.

With unrelenting precision, Bohjalian has sledge-hammered our emotions with the perfect combination of adventure, romance, and realism.

-elln

Steven Hall's THE RAW SHARK TEXTS

With its creative employ of mixed media and a feverish plot which can be read two ways, The Raw Shark Texts (and yes, it is a pun on the famous Rorschach inkblot tests) is indeed a masterpiece which spans time and genres.

It's also being made into a movie with the screenplay adapted by Simon Beaufoy, who wrote the screenplay for Slumdog Millionaire.

Steven Hall's use of media throughout the book, and his way of playing with format, is clever and unforgettable; the image of a shark created from text fragments (see right) crops up throughout the novel, notably in a forty-page+ break which slowly depicts the shark swimming closer and closer to the reader.

The shark is called a Ludovician, and it's after Eric Sanderson- the Second Eric Sanderson, that is, and he's receiving help from the First Eric Sanderson who has sent him letters from the past. While Eric's psychologist tells him he has amnesia and that he has forgotten his previous identity, the letters from Eric himself slowly reveal that this may not be the case at all- in fact, a conceptual thought fish has eaten his memory, and this particular fish is a rare predator which locks onto its prey until it completely devours the individual's thoughts, ideas, and memories. If this happens, Eric can live what is called a "twilight life" or a fake existence with no previous memories, until his time for death rapidly approaches. Eager to escape the Ludovician and to understand why it is chasing him, Eric sets out to find the source of the letters with his cat, Ian, and a mysterious woman, Scout.

Slowly, Eric begins to learn about his previous self. Suffering immensely after the death of his girlfriend Clio, the First Eric Sanderson does some very foolish things which lead to the Second Eric Sanderson's current situation. But even if Eric understands all of the clues, will he be able to save himself?

The story itself moves gradually away from reality as Scout and Eric search for the elusive Dr. Trey Fidorous, who presumably has all the answers (Ian's just along for the ride). The immensely satisfying facet of the story is that it can be read two ways- Eric Sanderson is on the frontier of science, but is merely trying to understand himself and to recapture his beloved; or, Eric Sanderson suffers from fugue, a condition which induces amnesia multiple times, and much of the story takes place entirely in his head as he progresses toward insanity and eventual death.

Hall's style is very introspective, and also very lyrical. His words are full to the brim with images, as well as references and memories and tiny details of how Eric views life. While intensely poetic, Hall's technique also manages to be snappy, face-paced, and funny; he captures the quirky every day moments in life and the private dialogue between friends and lovers realistically, something that so many authors try (and fail) to do.

The book itself has a little something for everyone- the basis of Eric Sanderson's conceptual thought fish predator is in science-fiction; riveting chases with the Ludovician are there for those who like action; for mystery-lovers, the whole book is more or less a logic puzzle, and a search for the enigmatic Dr. Fidorous; there is a compelling story of modern love; and, as an added bonus, there is an ambiguous ending.

How much better can it get?

-elln

Lisa Carey's THE MERMAIDS SINGING

I find it amazing that Lisa Carey remains as obscure as she does. She is a brilliant, beautiful, lyrical writer who crafts complex and intersecting masterpieces about everyday life and tragedy.

Her first novel remains my favorite work of hers- in fact, it's my favorite book of all time, though my introduction to it was quite unorthodox. When I checked it out from my local library it was misfiled in the YA section. You can imagine how my poor little 12-year-old eyes bugged out of my head when I realized that I was reading graphic sex scenes. I did finish the book, however, and realized how absolutely stunning it is. I've read it probably more than ten times since then, and each time I discover something new.

The book starts with a poem by W.B. Yeats, which is always a win. It's my favorite poem, entitled "When You Are Old."

We are introduced to Grace, who rises "quietly, so as not to disturb her lover." Grace, we learn, has cancer. She also has a teenage daughter, named Grainne (Graw-nya). Quickly, we learn that life is not a fairy-tale for these women, who seem unable to communicate with one another since Grace contracted cancer. Instead, they leave notes for one another on the fridge, or in the night.

The story unfolds along so many paths that it is hard to explain them-it ducks in and out of the past, and weaves between Grainne's present and the past, when Grace was alive. Grace dies quite early in the book, however that is not the end of story. As we follow Grainne into her own confused future-her move to Ireland from the U.S. to stay with her grandmother, and her exploration of herself as a young woman- we move into Grace's past and explore the decisions that this young, fierce, free spirit made which led to her having a child and never speaking with her mother again.

Grace's mother, Cliona, takes Grainne in. Eventually, part of Cliona's past is revealed. What is truly a feat of Carey's is how she is able to create a mother and daughter who fight so fiercely, and who absolutely cannot get along, yet who both garner our sympathies. Even proud Cliona, who admits her wrongs years later when looking at Grainne and realizing that Grace "got it right" gathers our sympathies effortlessly.

The exploration of tragedy is certainly present as Grainne tries to cope with the loss of her simultaneously best friend and mother, and Cliona tries to come to terms with the death of a daughter she neither knew nor understood. But the search for meaning and heritage is overwhelmingly present as well, as Grainne strives to meet the father she never knew. And romantic love isn't lacking either. Grainne slowly and rewardingly falls for childhood friend Liam after destructively lusting after her mother's 28-year-old boyfriend Stephen for several months. Cliona explains the conception of Grace and the confused illusions of love which accompanied it; she also justifies why she settled for a man whom she loves domestically. But the most compelling stories of love come from the brazen, beautiful life of Grace; she is destroyed by her first love, Michael, and is brought back to life by the enigmatic, idealistic Seamus.

The craft of the book itself is incredibly lyrical. It is poetic writing personified. Phrases themselves are delicious reading apart from their contextual meaning. I cannot begin to describe the poignant melancholy and simultaneous pleasure and pain I get from reading this book. The final element which completes the design of such a wondrous piece is the element of myth; the mermaids are continually referred to in the moaning wind, and Grainne almost falls into the water after claiming to have been drawn there by something in the water; Grace assumes it is a shark. We know that it is (possibly) a mermaid; we want to believe that it is a mermaid. The real world and a world of legends and myths have collided and created a penetrating, epic story of love and loss.

-elln

Isn't It Good, Norwegian Wood

Coming of age stories have been a staple in the literary world for centuries. Many know the trials of Huck Finn and his quest on the raft with Jim or Holden Caulfield and his distaste for phonies. Then there is Norwegian Wood, written by Haruki Murakami. Norwegian Wood's protagonist is Toru Watanabe and tells the story of his struggle to find his place in a world that seems to only feature suicide and the injustice of unattainable love.

Haruki Murakami is one of the most prominent figures of contemporary Japanese literature. He is known for his avant-garde works; such titles as Hard-Boiled Wonderland and The End of the World spring to mind. But then he emerged with Norwegian Wood.

Norwegian Wood transformed Murakami into a star in Japan, much to his dismay, and the Japanese youth cleaved onto the novel. However, many of Murakami's contemporaries saw Norwegian Wood as a mere love story- something that Murakami should never have deigned to write.

Despite its mainstream formula, Norwegian Wood is one of the most poignant and moving "love stories" that I have yet to come across, and the beauty is in its simplicity.

Toru Watanabe is a college student in 1969 and is majoring in drama, but has no aspirations or goals. His single devotion is to Naoko. Naoko is the beautiful and fragile girl who is the only remaining link to his happier past. Naoko was Toru's best friend's, Kizuki's, girlfriend. However Kizuki inexplicably commits suicide.

This sends Toru and, even more so Naoko, into a downward spiral. Soon Naoko and Toru become involved with each other, culminating when Naoko and Toru sleep together on Naoko's twentieth birthday. Consumed by guilt, as she never slept with Kizuki, Naoko flees to a remote sanatorium to convalesce.

Toru continues his life at college where he soon finds himself drawn to a vivacious and sensual student, Midori Kobayashi. As his friendship with Midori grows, his contact with Naoko wanes; the more extroverted Toru becomes, the less sane Naoko becomes.

Norwegian Wood, though at times too neatly wrapped up in its own tragedy, heartbreakingly tells the story of one person's simple love story and his journey to adulthood.

-Acerbec