The Twisted Thread

Bacon, Charlotte. The Twisted Thread. New York: Voice - Hyperion, 2011. Print.
[Book cover credit: goodreads.com/book/show/9519064-the-twisted-thread]

Booktalk:
When Madeline returns from her moning jog, she can tell something's wrong from across the green. Not only are her students awake at what they consider the unholy hour of 7am, but they're all on the lawn with police surrounding the dorm. Claire Harkness is dead. And that's not all.

"No, no, that's not possible. Sally, did Claire just have a baby?" Madeline said sharply, still holding the girl but lifting her chin so she could stare into the narrow face. "Where's the baby?" Madeline found that she was almost shaking Sally's bony shoulders. ...
     Sally shook her had and could not speak. "I don't know," she finally whispered. "He's gone..."

p.11*

Review:
The Twisted Thread follows English teacher intern Madeline, art teacher Fred, detective Matt, and facilities handyman Jim as they each play their parts trying to unravel how the unthinkable has happened at the prestigious Armitage Academy. They start with Claire's death and the disappearance of her baby and work their way backwards through Claire's actions and motives to figure out what really happened. Following four different narrators was a bit challenging in the beginning, while I was still getting to know all of them. Though the point of view changes, the story never retraces its steps so that we see the same even through different eyes. Usually, I really appreciate that! This time, however, I do have to admit to some flipping back and forth trying to figure out why I was suddenly dumped into the head of someone I'd just met. Fred and Matt both interact with Madeline a lot, so the changing point of view, sometimes in the same scene (but different chapters!), seemed unneccesarily confusing in a few places, especially without the help of backing up the action a little bit so that the reader can get their bearings.

Of all our narrators, Madeline is the star of the show. She struggles with a lot of guilt because she didn't notice anything wrong (or preggers) with Claire, her student and resident in her dorm. She is also struggling to figure out what to do with her life. It is the emotional ringer of riding out the aftermath of Claire's death with the remaining students on campus that finally allows/makes her kind of grow up and make Real Life Decisions. The absence of any teen narrators in this high school boarding school book makes the adult hand-wringing a little more pronounced. It's not something that bothered me at all. It never veered into preachy or overly dramatic; it was all very believable. Still, I think it'll be a turn-off to some teen readers who may construe it as just more "kids these days" criticism. So while there is nothing in this book that would make me hesitate giving it to a high schooler to read, it's definitely not the book for a reader of primarily young adult literature who is looking for a good boarding school mystery.

That said, it is dead high school senior Claire, or at least her presence/memory, that brings depth to the stories in ways that I can't share without spoiling it for you. Just trust me when I say that the mystery goes far beyond how beautiful, intelligent, priviedged, and ultimately more complicated than anyone dared guess Claire Harkness died.


The Twisted Thread will be out and available for purchase June 14th!


Book source: ARC provided by the publisher through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program.


*Quotes and page numbers are from an uncorrected proof and may not match the published copy.



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Monsters of Men

Ness, Patrick. Monsters of Men. Somerville, Mass.: Candlewick Press, 2010. Print. Chaos Walking 3.
[Book cover credit: librarything.com/work/9116020]


As I've said before, Ness doesn't do nice little catch-up spots in the openings of his book, and all his books end on HUGE CLIFFHANGERS (even, to some extent, this one). So, while I have tried to avoid them at all costs, this review has some spoilers for the previous two books. Don't read this if you haven't already read The Knife of Never Letting Go and The Ask and the Answer. But really, if you haven't started reading this trilogy, you should. The entire thing is heart-wrenchingly wonderful (though pretty freaking violent).


Booktalk:

"And what other kind of man would you want leading you into battle?" he [the Mayor] says, reading my Noise. "What kind of man is suitable for war?"
A monster, I think, remembering what Ben told me once. War makes monsters of men.
"Wrong," says the Mayor. "It's war that makes us men in the first place. Until there's war, we are only children."

p.11

Monsters of men, I think. And women.

p.287

Review:
Reading this book is like getting punched in the stomach. In a good way. And if I learned anything from Monsters of Men, it is that there is, in fact, a good way. It's basically when you're keeping someone else from getting decked, or when you're getting pummelled to protect the one you love.

Monsters of Men was the most satisfying end to a series or trilogy that I've read in a long time. A really long time. Like the previous books, the plot runs at a breakneck pace that left me breathless, and it covers a lot of ground. Coming into the book I couldn't have even imagined things that happened in the middle, let alone how it would end. There are a lot of loose ends that are tied up over the course of the book, but ending is not finite. I don't think Ness will be writing another book in this world or with these characters anytime soon (ever), but the ending is open to possibility and to the imagination of the reader. This book is full of passion, action, and general umph.

I know I'm being really vague, but I think the best way to read these books is to go in blind.

And, word to the wise, it can reduce just about anyone to a sobbing mess. There were a few moments in the beginning that had me looking out the train window and blinking a lot during my commute, but the real stuff is saved for the end. I wouldn't advise that anyone read beyond page 400 or so outside of the comfort of their own home. We're talking hug the book, can't see through the tears crying for the last 100 pages. But oh-so-good!


Book 1: The Knife of Never Letting Go
Book 2: The Ask and the Answer
Book source: Philly Free Library

The Duff

Keplinger, Kody. The Duff (designated ugly fat friend). New York: Poppy - Little, Brown and Company, 2010.
[Book cover credit: librarything.com/work/9731272]

Booktalk:
Bianca is having a rough time of it. Her mom is out of town a lot. Her two best friends insist on dragging her to The Nest, a teen nightclub, every weekend. She still can't form coherent sentences in front of her long-time crush. And then Wesley, a world-class sleaseball sits down next to her at the "bar," and tries to make friends. It'll up his chances of nailing one of Bianca's hot besties, he says, being nice to their Duff, their designated ugly fat friend who they only keep around to make themselves look hotter. So Bianca does what any self-respecting girl would do: she throws her cherry coke in his face. And then she makes out with him?

Review:
I started this book ready to be disappointed. There's been so much hype, and not all of it good, that I didn't think The Duff could possibly live up to it. Then I opened it and found a pessimistic, foul-mouthed main character that I didn't think I'd grow to care about. I brought an extra book with me to read on my commute so that i could put this one down as soon as I'd read the obligatory 50 pages (this is my personal rule for books sent to me for review). Next thing I know, I'd almost missed my train stop because I was so sucked in.


Bianca's relationship with Wesley is clearly complicated, though she tries to play it off as the simplest thing ever: just sex. Wesley seems okay with this arrangement and helps Bianca keep up appearances at school and everywhere else for a while. They hate each other. He's a man-slut, womanizing, cocky little brat, representing everything that Bianca, a smart and confident young woman, despises. And he calls her "Duffy," constantly reminding her that he's way out of her league and that their relationship could never go public. For the most part, they maintain a snarky banter both in and out of the bedroom (it's very 10 Things I Hate About You). Until they don't. Bianca is having some very real problems at home that she's avoiding by spending all of her time with Wesley. She can ignore things when she's with him; her friends will want to help and make her talk about it. Wesley just asks her if she's okay and then listens; he doesn't push. Maybe this is because he doesn't actually care (likely in Bianca's opinion) or maybe, as she comes to figure out, it's because he has real problems that he doesn't want to talk about either.

Other reviewers have said that the relationships between Bianca and her friends is what "saved" this book for them. Their friendship is sweet, fierce and awesome. They build each other up with nary an insult. Bianca ditches her friends for Wesley and doesn't even tell them about him. I think this happens a lot (it certainly did when I was in college), and to see it portrayed here was great. Bianca's friends are both pissed and worried, and both those sentiments are clearly expressed. No one is one-dimensional. When Bianca finally spills all to her friends, they (mostly) forgive her. Casey decides to make the word duff theirs. Instead of having a fat day or a bad hair day or even a zit, they say it's their turn to be the Duff. Though the word catches Bianca off guard throughout the book, it loses it's power to make her feel ugly and fat, exactly what the word is supposed to imply.

Overall, I enjoyed this book. It's all about relationships, between Bianca and her friends, Bianca and her parents, Bianca and Wesley, but it's not weighed down by emotional drama. Sure, there are really emotionally draining parts of this book, especially when it comes to Bianca and her parents, but they are tempered by sarcasm, sex, and Bianca's own personality.


Book source: ARC provided by the publisher.


Now, about the SEX:
Feel free to skip this part. I wrote my thesis on Forever... by Judy Blume and its effect on the uses and appearances of sex in literature for girls, and I saw in an interview (that I can no longer find - if it was on your blog, let me know so I can link to it!) that Keplinger was inspired by the frank discussions of sex in Forever... when writing The Duff. I can't let that just go without comment and comparison.

Now, in Forever..., there is a whole chapter about going to Planned Parenthood for birth control. There is an author's note in every edition published since AIDS became known and prevalent about how birth control is no longer enough, protecting oneself against STIs is just as important as preventing pregnancy. This information, both in the PP chapter and the author's note, are pretty separate from the story. Yes, going to PP is a turning point for Katherine, showing that she's ready to have sex, but the wealth of information about exactly what happens in a birth control appointment has nothing to do with the story. It's there so that readers aren't afraid to make that appointment themselves; it's showing them how to do it in real life.* It's very didactic. It's very 80s. For a book published in the 70s, it was very ahead of its time.

We don't get that in The Duff. This book has boatloads of sex, but it's not the this-is-how-it's-done sex that appears in Blume. The sex in The Duff is not graphic. It doesn't happen "off-screen," but the reader is not treated to a play-by-play all that often. What is present, however, is the word condom every time Bianca and Wesley do it. It's much more subtle than Blume's way of telling readers to use precaution, but because of that, it's less likely to be skimmed. It's right there in the story. It's natural, almost taken for granted, that Wesley and Bianca will use a condom every time. Later on, Bianca mentions that she's been on birth control for years. It's no big deal. She went on birth control (with her mother's knowledge) when she started having sex. It's just what you do.

Unfortunately, I don't think either approach is all that realistic. It is for some teens, thank goodness, but not for all. Both books also show a teen pregnancy or pregnancy scare. Blume is, again, way more obvious about it. If you don't do as I've shown you, you'll have a baby instead of going to Smith! But Keplinger, too, aims to show consequences. When Bianca is talking to Vikki, the school slut, about her pregnancy scare she thinks, "Had all of this made her realize the consequences of her choices? Our choices" (256).** Even though Bianca is on birth control and is sleeping with a guy who buys condoms in bulk, she recognizes that she and Vikki could easily be in the same boat. It's a huge a-ha moment for her. Calling Vikki a slut doesn't make Bianca anymore of a virgin or less likely to get knocked up. Calling someone else a duff doesn't make her more beautiful. The lesson is different, but it's told in the same way.

Something that I did think is way too realistic in The Duff was the treatment of oral sex, something that isn't even broached in Forever.... The thing that bothered me is that when Wesley, who always always has a condom in his pocket, goes down on Bianca, he doesn't use any kind of protection. The idea that oral sex isn't real sex is prevalent among teens. It's dangerous. I was a little disappointed that Keplinger had been SO GREAT throughout the book with the condoms and the birth control (and all without breaking up the story!), but didn't even mention a dental dam here. But turning a condom into a dental dam would have created a "let's go to PP" chapter in an otherwise clever and not remotely heavy-handed book about safe sex. It's still a little upsetting though.

I don't know if Keplinger meant for The Duff to be about safe sex so much as it was about how running away from your problems doesn't solve them (with a lot of sex). Regardless, I applaud her efforts to portray responsible choices even in the midst of an "enemies-with-benefits" relationship where sex is had for all the wrong reasons.



*For a more extreme example of this tactic of providing information about something some might think is squicky or controversial for young readers, see the "I'm bleeding to death from between my legs" chapter in the Alanna: The First Adventure. Getting her period has nothing to do with the story, but everything to do with being a preteen girl, as Alanna is.
**Quotes and page numbers were taken from an uncorrected proof and my not match the published copy.

Beautiful Malice

James, Rebecca. Beautiful Malice: A Novel. New York: Bantam Books - Random House, 2010. Print.
[Book cover credit: librarything.com/work/9367605]

Booktalk:
After the violent death of her little sister Rachel, popular Katie Boydell reinvents herself as quiet, keeps-to-herself Katherine Patterson. Moving in with her aunt and changing high school for her senior year complete the transformation.

Until Alice.

Alice is one of those girls who acts as her own center of gravity, always in the center of everything and dragging you in. Katherine can't resist her, and Alice pulls Katherine into Life again. It looks like everything could be alright in a post-Rachel world. But then Alice starts to devolve. And she's determined to take Katherine down with her.

Review:
I don't know that it's meant to be read this way, but Beautiful Malice was a great mystery. The entire story is told in flashbacks. Katherine, an adult with a young daughter, is looking back on her senior year of high school when she met and knew Alice. Eventually her teenage self is remembering and telling Alice about the events leading up to Rachel's death. In both scenarios, the reader should, on some level, know how the story ends: Katherine grows up and has a child; Rachel dies. And yet, I never felt impatient waiting for that end to come. In fact, there were plenty of points in the senior year storyline when I was sure that things could not possibly end the way adult Katherine seemed to imply that they would. Moreover, when the endings finally did come they were plenty twisted, making them surprising even if they really do amount to Katherine growing up and having a child and Rachel dying.

The bulk of the story is set during Katherine's senior year of high school, specifically when she is befriended by Alice. Katherine is Katherine, rather than Katie, because she is trying to move on in her life past Rachel's death, but it is still a big part of her. It takes a really long time for Katherine to open up to anyone, including the reader, about what happened to Rachel, and yet I wasn't annoyed by not knowing. From almost the beginning, I knew Katherine was dealing with some serious survivor guilt, but as her recollections of Rachel slowly unfolded, it became clear that her guilt went beyond just the guilt of still being alive. Katherine feels truly responsible for Rachel's death, and because her story of what really happened the night Rachel died is so drawn out, it looks like she just might be. She's dealing with all of this while she slowly gets sucked into Alice's world.

Alice, by the way, is the mayor of crazytown. She's fun-crazy in the beginning, always managing to have alcohol and a party to go to (and an awesome dress to wear to it, and one for you to borrow besides). She lives in an apartment of her own, paid for by her birth mother who feels guilty that Alice was adopted by hicks. She seems so grown-up and exotic to Katherine, who used to be a more suburban version of her. Alice drags Katherine back into the social scene she should have always inhabited, introduces her to new people and experiences, gains her complete trust and (for a while) adoration, and then goes crazy-crazy. When Katherine stops worshiping the ground Alice walks on and gets her own friends, Alice becomes possessive and stalker-y. It's pretty scary, and the lengths she goes to (and why) left me speechless.

I think Beautiful Malice will be devoured by readers looking for more thriller in their mysteries, but be warned that though Alice and Katherine are teenagers for most of the story, they have very few "typical" teen experiences. They're never in school, they hang out in bars, and they date grown men. I'm not saying that this book is inappropriate, because really, there's nothing graphic or too "adult" going on, but it's certainly not set in high school, even if the main characters are technically high schoolers.


Beautiful Malice will be available for purchase next month!


Book source: Review copy from the publisher through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program.

Tender Morsels

Lanagan, Margo. Tender Morsels. New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 2008. Print.
[Book cover credit: librarything.com/work/5439594]

Awards:
Amazon.com Best Books (Science Fiction & Fantasy, 2008)
BCCB Blue Ribbon Book (2008)
A Horn Book Fanfare Best Book (2008)
Locus Recommended Reading (Young Adult, 2008)
Publisher's Weekly Best Book (Children's Fiction, 2008)
School Library Journal Best Book of the Year (2008)
ALA Best Books for Young Adults (2009)
Printz Honor (2009)
World Fantasy Award (Novel, 2009)
And many more...

Booktalk:
Liga's life is a brutal one. She lost her mother long ago and is now confined to life with her father. He won't let her go into town, where jeers of "the poacher's daughter" follow her. Instead he confines Liga to their home, where she is made to take up her late mother's role as wife, fulfilling wifely duties in the upkeep of their household and her father's marriage bed. When this life becomes too much to bear, Liga decides to end it. When she tries to throw herself and her daughter by her father over a cliff, she is rescued and taken to her personal heaven. Everyone is kind, and life is safe. Lisa raises her, now two, daughters in this place, but her heaven was not made for them. It begins to crack, letting elements of the real world in, until, finally, it becomes clear that they all must get out.

Review:
Brutal does not even begin to cover it. Liga's life with her father is a nightmare. It is clear that she is repeatedly raped by her father. It is not graphically described in the text, but is in the forefront of Liga's thoughts often and so often "discussed." The miscarriages he forces her to have through the use of teas and herbs, on the other hand, are described in graphic detail. The fact that Liga has no idea what is happening to her when she miscarries is, I think, part of why they are described in such detail. Even though she thinks about it often, her mind shies away from the acts her father performs on her. Her shame and self-preservation together keep the detail out of these account. As she slowly comes to realize that the rapes, teas, miscarriages, her monthly blood, and babies are all related, each of these acts in her past are revisited. And things don't even get better after Liga's father dies! Left alone in their cottage with only her infant daughter for company, Liga is gang-raped (again, not graphically described, but not exactly glossed over either) by a group of town boys. This is what finally makes her want to end her own, and her baby's, life.

That's the opening of the book. It's hard to read.

The first time I checked this book out of the library, I couldn't read the whole thing. Long before the gang-rape and attempted suicide, I returned the book. I didn't decide to check it out again until the Common Sense debacle with Barnes and Noble came out (see the comments for where Tender Morsels is mentioned). Still, I didn't get around to actually checking it out until a few weeks ago. I was determined to get through the horrible parts so that I could see Liga in her heaven, and after reading all of that, I needed to see Liga in her heaven. So many other readers had said that the wretched beginning is worth it once you get to the rest of the story , not to mention that I figured the whole book couldn't be ruined by the opening, given its many awards.

It is worth it.

The rest of the story is a fairytale. It is actually based on Snow White and Rose Red. Once Liga's daughters are old enough to have personalities, Tender Morsels becomes their story. It is about Branza and Urdda learning who they are as people and learning how to make their own way in what is, literally, their mother's world. Their story is beautiful, and I think the ugliness that preceeds it helps to make it so. Urdda grows up to be the awesomely headstrong and smart young woman that I always look for in book. I want a whole other book full of her, especially once she leaves her mother's heaven. Branza's nice too, but I clearly have my favorite.

But here is my dilemma: By the end, I really liked this book and I would love to recommend it, but to whom? I don't agree with the Common Sense rating at Barnes and Noble, that Tender Morsels is not appropriate for anyone under 18, but I do think that I may hesitate to recommend it to young adults that I do not know extremely well. What do you think? For those of you who have read this, to whom do you recommend it? Those of you who haven't, knowing all of the horrible things that happen, do you think you ever will?


Book source: Philly Free Library

Kids say the awsomest things

For a little background, the classrooms in the college library that I work in are being used all summer by a summer camp for smarties. These kids are supposed to be gifted young things who run from the art room to the science room to the computer room all day until someone has the sense to take them outside to run on the grass. For a while we had a camper incident of the day, the most exciting one was The Great Goldfish Explosion (crackers, not real fish). Recently, happily, we've moved on to camper cute quotes of the day.

Yesterday's quote came after the teenagers who chaperone the kids around campus lost a 5yr old. His best friend found him hiding behind a plant here in the library. Here is their conversation on the way out.
Friend: Why did you hide?
Hiding Kid: Because I just wanted to stay here.
Friend: Why?
Hiding Kid: It's so nice in here.
These kids are five.

Today's quote came early this morning. On their way out of the building a group of maybe 7-8yr olds were talking about their schedule for next week. We overheard:
"And on Monday we get computer class first! It's like a dweam come twue!"
Of course, the kid who can't say his r's yelled it out, making it that much cuter to all of us folks who only get to deal with stressed out grad students all summer.

What happens between when these kids stop going to camp (they have kids as old as 12 and the helpers start around 13 or 14) and when they enroll in college? Why can't we even entice them to come into the library with free food? The idea that kids magically stop needing programming when they hit 18 or when they become college students is clearly hurting us here. Have more ideas on the subject? Bring them to the new YALSA interest group for Serving New Adults. I know that I will be.