Review: Every You, Every Me

My coworker handed me a copy of Every You, Every Me by David Levithan last week, and just flipping through it pulled me in. I put aside the book I was reading and jumped right in. The book is unusual and captivating from the very first page.

Something has happened to Evan's best friend Ariel - we the readers aren't let in on what exactly has happened to her or where she might be now - and every day seems to be a struggle for Evan to put her behind him. Now that she's gone, he's left with a lot of acquaintances. The only real friend he has is Ariel's boyfriend, Jack, and the two are left clinging to their memories of the one girl they both loved. Out of the blue, Evan starts receiving photos of himself and Ariel and these other kids he has never seen. Is Ariel leaving them for him? Jack tells him it's impossible (Ariel is dead gone and not coming back), but the mystery of the photos drives the story forward.

The book contains full color prints of these photographs, but the most compelling part of the novel is the typesetting. The book reads like a long letter that Evan is writing to Ariel, with words or whole sentences struck out (but still legible) like he can't wrap his mind around the correct words to write. (You can get an idea of what I'm talking about in the preview here.) It reminded me of one of my favorite novels, House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski (or really anything by Danielewski), which plays with formatting as much as it plays with story. When this technique is done right (as it is here and in House of Leaves), the story is much stronger for it, and it provides the reader with a mechanism to compel the story forward. I'm not saying I want to see every author try this, because it takes a deft hand to do it right, but when I find someone who does it justice, I'm happy no matter where the story goes.

That being said, I did have some issues with this book. **HERE BE SPOILERS** For the entire length of the book, we're left wondering if Ariel is dead or alive. Did she commit suicide or just attempt it? Is she in a coma or in a locked hospital ward or did she just run away? Evan and Jack had a part in whatever happened - the book kind of becomes an I Know What You Did Last Summer thing - but it's hard to reconcile what their part might have been if we don't know what happened. And you know what? That was all fine to me. The mystery drove the story forward. And then. The big deus ex machina comes in the form of a girl who informs them that she was really Ariel's best friend all along, and that she blames them for her now being institutionalized. Really? Secret best friends? Especially a secret best friend who is angry that her friend is still alive because the girl's public best friends saved her? Sorry, not buying it. And I'm not quite so sure why Evan feels so guilty about saving Ariel's life or why he thinks her parents hate him so much. I mean, I know how teens can get all in-their-heads about stuff, but I had a hard time reconciling Evan's feelings with the conclusion. **THERE BE SPOILERS**

Comments about the ending aside, I really loved this book. From the title (taken from a Placebo song) to the  formatting to the photos to the mystery to the general teen angst, I was completely there and in it. This book is definitely worth a look, if for nothing else than to experience the journey of it.

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3/5 stars (the ending knocked it down a bit for me)

Review: The Night Circus

It's rare that a book's atmosphere overshadows its plot, but in Erin Morgenstern's debut novel, The Night Circus, I found myself caring less about what was happening and more about where it was happening. Specifically, the night circus of the title, Le Cirque des Rêves.

Le Cirque des Rêves rolls into town unannounced, sets up without fanfare, and opens its gates at dusk. It is exquisitely detailed, every inch of it black or white, and is filled with tents that boggle the mind or tear at our sense of possibility. Explore all you want - there's always more to see.

The plot itself is interesting, too, although it is overshadowed by what feels like the main character, the circus. The story begins with two master magicians and a bet. Each magician chooses a student - Celia and Marco, in this instance, although the bet has been played out by these two magicians before - and teaches them all they need to know in order to win the game they're playing. The game, though, is never explained to the students, and they are left filling in the details for themselves as they go.

Add to that a plot about a boy, Bailey, who first encounters the circus as a child, then comes across it again as a man deciding whether to take on the family business or strike out on his own. At first, the story jumps back and forth between these two plot lines, but of course, they begin to converge.

Like I said, though, the atmosphere of the book mattered so much more to me than the actual plot. Sure, I was interested in the story behind the circus and how the game between Celia and Marco was to be played out, but when I finally got to the ending, I didn't care much anymore. I was just upset to see my journey with the circus end.

Truth be told, I was not entirely happy with the climax of the book as I was reading it. It felt a bit rushed and out of place. When I read it, I thought it might have ruined an otherwise beautiful book. It's been a little while since I finished the book, though, and I'm coming to terms with the ending. In hindsight, it seems right and just - and the only way to keep the circus alive, which is just how I want it.

Besides my out-right love for the atmosphere of the book, I also have to commend Morgenstern on her use of tenses and perspectives. The main narrative is told in the present tense - something that many writers try and fail terribly at. Instead, its use makes the story feel urgent, a big feat for a story that spans over 30 years. Interspersed throughout the narrative are short chapters written in the second person (still present tense), offering glimpses of the circus as a visitor would see it (Example: "You cannot bear to watch. You cannot look away."). I loved how each of these, usually only a page long, pulled me deeper into the world of the circus. Perhaps this is why I felt the atmosphere was the strongest character.

There's been a lot of hype around this book, most of it just, but the comparisons as "the next Harry Potter" or to Twilight are all wrong. In fact, I got in an argument with a coworker over whether to shelve this in our bookstore's Young Adult section or not (the correct answer is no, but I let the coworker keep a couple in her display anyway). Also, apparently the Wall Street Journal thinks three stories written over 20-something years makes a trend? Just forget anything you've read about The Night Circus (other than that it is GOOD) and form your own opinions on it.

Buy The Night Circus on Amazon
Buy The Night Circus from an indie bookshop near you through Indie Bound

5/5 stars

Welcome to The Reading Mouse

Welcome to The Reading Mouse!

I started blogging about books in 2008 at Consider the Daffodil, but between work and school and life in general, the blog fell by the wayside. I restarted the blog again this year after I started working at a Boston-area independent bookstore. I quickly became aware that I was the only bookseller who read Young Adult books, and I've become the go-to bookseller for YA recommendations. I'm also a librarian by training, and I really love finding the right book for the right kid.

So when I restarted Consider the Daffodil, I didn't feel at home. The title, taken from an old Deep Thought (Consider the daffodil. And while you're doing that, I'll be over here, going through your stuff.), was amusing to me when I started the blog, but it didn't say anything to me or about me anymore. After much brainstorming, The Reading Mouse was born for two reasons.

First, my father's pet name for me is the Armenian word for mouse. He still calls me by it sometimes, even though I am far from a little mouse anymore. And my parents have always encouraged me to read.

Second, I bought this cute lamp a few years ago with a tiny mouse reading a book. At the time, I just thought it was cute, but it quickly became a key piece of decoration in the little reading nook in my bedroom. I couldn't imagine not having him in my home now.

Anyway, this is my new home for writing about books. I've added the reviews I've already written this year just to keep them in one place. I also write about food at Cave Cibum and crafts at Making Islands. Please feel free to play along - I'd love to hear what you think about the books I review here.

Review: The Magician King

I could not have been more excited to hear that Lev Grossman was following up his amazing book The Magicians only two years later with The Magician King. I remember devouring The Magicians, which at the time I likened to an adult version of Harry Potter, at breakneck speeds. So getting my hands on a copy (well, virtually, and that's a whole 'nother story) of The Magician King was a priority.

First, I should say that I regret not re-reading The Magicians. Grossman jumps right into the story with no real refresher to speak of. I felt myself struggling to remember exactly what had happened to characters in the first book when the events were alluded to here.

Overall, I loved the Magician King and the way it continued this imaginative story arc. Is much of this book (hell, the series) cribbed from classic children's literature? Absolutely. This book reeks of the Chronicles of Narnia, mostly The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, just like the first book was obviously influenced by Harry Potter. And while I found this a bit grating at times (I get it! Two kings and two queens, just like Narnia! Wise talking animals! A ship sailing into uncharted waters!), for the most part, this book works precisely because we all know the stories they're alluding to. However, I ended up enjoying the parts that felt familiar but weren't the most. (Here I mean the fable of the quest for the seven keys of Fillory, which the main plot revolves around.)

The story follows two paths: Quentin, king of Fillory, ventures out on a quest (ostensibly to collect taxes from a far-off province) and learns what it means to be a hero, and a flashback to Julia, a magic school reject, becoming a hedge witch and then so, so much more. At first, I found the two narratives jarring - why should I care about Julia's past when Quentin is obviously the one we care about? But as Quentin's quest progresses, the parallels with Julia's quest to become skilled in magic become obvious. The idea of humility versus hubris in a hero comes up repeatedly, but not in a way that is obtrusive or annoying.

Obviously, it's a bit silly to review a sequel here without having reviewed the original book. Like I said, it's been a while since I read it, but I can't recommend it enough (even having forgotten most of everything). Trust me, read The Magicians - you won't want to wait to dive right into The Magician King.

4/5 stars

Review: Geek Wisdom

When I first heard about Geek Wisdom, edited by Stephen Segal, I was more than a little skeptic. As a self-proclaimed Nerd and Geek (by my definitions, nerd = passionate about academic subjects and geek = passionate about pop cultural subjects), I've seen how geekery has become widely accepted over the past few years. Often, that means it is co-opted by brands and companies that have no idea what being geeky actually means. So I figured this quirky little sampler of quotes wouldn't necessarily mean all that much to real geeks.

Man, was I wrong. There is so much truth in this book. Each page features a quote or two from famous geek texts (ranging from Shakespeare to internet memes, with plenty of television, movies, and novels in among the mix) along with a brief discussion of why this is important to the hordes of geeks out there or what it has to say about how we geeks see our world.

That's not to say that every single brief essay in this book works. With some quotes, the author's barely touch upon the quote itself and deal with another matter entirely. The best of the essays, though, (and I'll say the majority of the essays are among the best) really touch the heart of the quote in question, distilling the ideas that geeks feel in their hearts, even if the mind can't explain it so succinctly.

For example, the first quote in the book is "With great power comes great responsibility," written by the great Stan Lee. This has become one of the tenants of geekdom (closely followed, I would think, by Wil Wheaton's "Don't be a dick"). And really, it's something we all understand without too much thought. But the authors of the book point out how this affected not just Spiderman, but also George Washington, King David, Albert Einstein, and Franklin Roosevelt (and that Paris Hilton has somehow not come to understand it at all).

Even if you don't care about the discussion, this is a great collection of geeky quotes. I kept saying to myself that a particular quote was my favorite quote, but then I'd turn the page and find one I liked even more. I just have so much love for this book! It really is the perfect gift for any geeks in your life (in fact, I'm thinking I should just buy a box to have on hand as ready-made gifts).

5/5 stars

YA Book Club: Going Bovine

Welcome to the inaugural Consider the Daffodil YA Book Club, featuring the funny and thought-provoking Going Bovine by Libba Bray. I know that some of the people who are reading this are a bit behind, but I wanted to post this anyway for those of you I don't know in real life who may have already finished the book.

Anyway...

Going Bovine is definitely not everyone's cup of tea. It's a weird fantasy adventure, a mash-up of Percy Jackson and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, that talks about physics, obscure diseases, Don Quixote, drag queens, jazz music, religious cults, reality TV, and Norse mythology. It's got a male protagonist who is such an apathetic loser, he can be hard to relate to. And most importantly, it looks death right in the face. This book shouldn't work.

And yet it does (at least for some people, and I count myself among them). Going Bovine allows teens (and everyone else, of course) to get right up into the heart of impending doom (be it our main character Cameron's life or the End of the Universe as we know it) from the safety of a bunch of words on pages.

To be frank, while I was reading the book, I loved little bits but felt overall that it dragged. There were just a few too many set pieces (CESSNAB, PUTOpia, the YA beach house among them). They all felt a little bit like the Las Vegas hotel of the Lotus Eaters in the first Percy Jackson book - yes, I see what you're doing there, but let's move things alone now, please, there's story I want to get to. That having been said, the key elements of the story - much of the discussion below - has really stuck with me, and I think Bray does a good job at confronting mortality within the context of humor and adventure. (She also manages to give an interview in a cow suit quite well.)

I'm not going to summarize the book, although you should feel free to summarize any bits you see fit. I'll post the questions first, then chime in later with my own comments. I really want to hear what you have to say! Feel free to add any of your own questions as well. Spoilers from here on out.

1)For such a funny book, Going Bovine hits on some really big questions (Questions, even). Do you think this balance worked?

2) Why is Cameron's childhood trip to Disney World and his subsequent near-drowning the happiest day of his life?

3)What's up with the snow globes and the United Snow Globe Wholesalers?

4)Did Cameron actually go on this wild adventure? Or was he in his hospital bed the whole time?

5)The "one true thing" Cam learned on his travels, as he tells Dr. X, is that "to live is to love, to love is to live." What do you make of that? How did he come to realize the truth in this Great Tremelo song that he had previously listened to only ironically?

6)The obligatory casting question: Who would you cast in Going Bovine: The Movie? (Cameron and Dulcie probably being the easiest to cast).

Review: Texas Gothic

I have to admit, I didn't have high hopes for Texas Gothic by Rosemary Clement-Moore. The description on the back included witches, cowboys, and ghosts. I started flipping through it, though, and immediately recognized it for what it was. It was like home, something comforting from my childhood.

YA wasn't a big thing when I was a teen, and probably most of the YA I read was cheesy teen horror stories by Diane Hoh, Richie Tankersley Cusick, and Christopher Pike (Pike being the high end of the bunch). If you're my age, you know exactly the books I'm talking about, especially the embossed covers with more than their share of neon colors. (Cusick's Vampire was a particular favorite of mine.) These books were easy to read and almost felt like an episode of Scooby Doo (more bad guys being unmasked at the end, less talking dogs and stoners... well, sometimes there were stoners). There was always danger, but never too much to worry about, and the main girl (it was always a girl) used a little Nancy Drew sleuthing to figure out what was going on.

And that's exactly what I found in Texas Gothic. In fact, Nancy Drew is referenced a number of times, so Clement-Moore is obviously a fan of the genre herself. And for this particular sub-genre, the book is well-written, fast-paced, and highly enjoyable. I've seen enough of Texas to understand the environment perfectly, and the Hot Cowboy Neighbor (that might as well be his name) was the right mix of annoying and attractive. I loved the addition of real magic - the main character's family are all real witches, as much as she tries to stay out of that life - gave the story a little more body than others like it.

Is this fine literature? No. But that wasn't exactly what I was looking for on a quiet beach weekend. The high entertainment value of Texas Gothic makes it fun for any horror- or mystery-loving teen (or nostalgic adult). Bonus points for this being a self-contained story as well.

4/5 stars