The book: Push (The Game #2)
The author: Eve Silver
The rating: 4.5 stars
This has very little relevance to the following review, but the entire time I was reading this book, I couldn't get "Push" by Matchbox Twenty out of head. M'kay, moving right along...
I know that I've complained about Middle Novel Syndrome a lot in the past, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that Push was just as good as its predecessor - I'd go so far as to argue that it was a bit better. Miki's 'real world' life felt a bit less one-dimensional, there was nary a mention of the love triangle that had plagued the first novel, and the pacing was superb. When reading novels on my eReader, I have a habit of checking every couple of minutes to see what percent of the book I've completed thus far, but I was so utterly engrossed in Push that it came as a complete surprise when I turned the last page to find that there weren't any chapters left. The cliffhanger ending was the perfect level of satisfaction and mystery, leaving me without a doubt in my mind that I will be diving into the next book in the series the moment it hits shelves. Quite frankly, after Rush I had expected the series to be of the 'And then...' variety, but Silver is weaving one coherent story. Despite my once having called Rush 'empty calories,' it is becoming more and more apparent that The Game is a full-bodied and unique series (although again, if Crash pulls an Ender's Game twist, I'm going to have to apply some heavy penalties in the uniqueness department).
Hopefully this doesn't come across as a tad sadistic, but one of my favourite plot elements is when something awful happens to one of the protagonists and we get the chance to see the reactions of the other characters; I feel that it allows us to see inside a character or a relationship so much better. I'm not talking about the ending of Allegiant, but moreso our hero going missing, or getting amnesia, or suffering from a Heroic BSOD. I suppose it's just a specific type of dramatic irony, but done well, it can be a huge helper in selling me on a relationship, and that was the case in Push. Jackson's disappearance from the end of Rush isn't immediately resolved, and Miki's thoughts and actions in relation to his absence allowed me to become much more invested in their relationship than I otherwise might. At times, their touchy-feely courtship did rub me the wrong way, but due to the solid foundation that had been thus established, it wasn't unbearable.
As to the plot itself, given the fact that the story is well-spread across the installments, I think I'll have to read Crash before I'll be able to make a judgement. The story has potential - the groundwork has been laid - but I have the feeling that The Game is one of those series where the conclusion will make or break everything that has come before. A bad ending makes the setup trite, overdetailed, and ham-handed. An amazing ending, on the other hand... well, I guess just time will tell.
Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventure. Show all posts
Sunday, 6 July 2014
Sunday, 25 May 2014
18. Fire and Ice
The book: Frozen (Heart of Dread #1)
The author: Melissa de la Cruz & Michael Johnston
The rating: 4 stars
It's been a while since my last review, and IB exams have been to blame. In any case, I am now a high school graduate, and I've got a lengthy summer reading list to help get me back on track for my 100-book goal. Now, without further ado, Frozen (no relation to the Disney musical):
Frozen and I didn't start off on the best foot. I found it difficult to immerse myself in the authors' prose... sentences were uniform and choppy, and action seemed to begin and end so rapidly that there was no time to build up suspense. This might seem to be an odd criticism to levy against a book, but it truly felt as if I was only reading about events; they weren't actually occurring. A good novel needs immersion, needs to pull its reader out of the real world and into theirs, and for a good while, Frozen failed to deliver. While that aspect did improve over the course of the novel, problems with pacing continued to plague Frozen from cover to cover.
Betrayals, character deaths (and resurrections), various tribulations and crises... none lasted long enough for me to truly become emotionally invested. When an important character dies, for example, my default position is a solid belief that they're not really dead. Give it a couple chapters, though, and I'll begin to doubt... maybe the author did kill off little Susie Soandso for real. For a twist to work, the author needs to instill that doubt, or else the fake-out death will have no impact on the reader; he or she never had the chance to become invested in the implications of the death. That's where Frozen's pacing really acts as a drag: each crisis is resolved, each emotional trauma assuaged before it can truly impact the reader, and a tale will often veer into the realm of bland when it is unable to pull on the reader's heartstrings.
However, Frozen did have some saving graces. For one, it's not your classic YA dystopian cookie-cutter. In fact, it is an incredibly unique fusion of different genres. It bridges science fiction and fantasy in a way that Whispers in Autumn tried and failed, it has the military charm, intrigue, and romance of the Legend trilogy (without that series' over-the-top thematic statements), it's full of the swashbuckling, sea-faring escapades of Pirates of the Caribbean along with a hearty helping of Graceling-style adventure and fantasy. Fans of Graceling (a 2008 novel by Kristin Cashore) will actually find a great number of similarities: individuals who are gifted with magic have strangely-coloured eyes, they're societal pariahs, our heroine has a murderous gift that makes her a monster... while these similarities may serve to undermine my claims of Frozen's uniqueness, these elements are just one small part of a wonderful genre mismatch that creates a surprisingly complementary, well-seasoned dish.
The result of these genres are the setting and the adventure, the two respects in which Frozen truly shines. The tale takes place in a fantastical, futuristic Las Vegas, redefined after a frozen apocalypse and full of magic à la urban fantasy. This fusion of old and new creates a setting that is at once familiar and rife for exploration, something that is extremely significant to story that, at its essence, follows a traditional quest plot structure. New Vegas, Garbage Country, the deadly, trash-filled Pacific... each segment of the journey is vividly imagined and subtly insightful, creating an unspoken commentary on present-day consumer culture with a finesse that would seemingly go over the head of Legend writer Marie Lu. Despite its fantastical elements, Frozen's future is an undeniable reflection of the present day, and the way in which the authors integrate this vision into their story is admirable.
As previously mentioned, the adventure itself is a classic quest, and there's something so readable about this type of storyline. Unlike many of its YA fellows, Frozen's plot does not get bogged down by teenage angst or love triangles. Admittedly, Nat is a fairly angsty protagonist, but her fears of being a monster are fairly substantiated, and the romance between her and Wes is rather tolerable. Significantly, the romance runs congruently with getting our heroes to their destination, not oppositely, and therefore instead of dragging on the plot, their 'will they/won't they' serves to push the action along.
All in all, Frozen is a solid, immensely-readable tale, even if the writing itself sometimes gets in the way of the story. (As a side note, a special mention must be made to the novel's epigraphs, all of which were particularly well-chosen.) I'll definitely be giving the novel's sequel, Stolen, a look once it comes out later this year, but for now I'll keep my expectations for the rest of the series as a blank slate.
The author: Melissa de la Cruz & Michael Johnston
The rating: 4 stars
It's been a while since my last review, and IB exams have been to blame. In any case, I am now a high school graduate, and I've got a lengthy summer reading list to help get me back on track for my 100-book goal. Now, without further ado, Frozen (no relation to the Disney musical):
Frozen and I didn't start off on the best foot. I found it difficult to immerse myself in the authors' prose... sentences were uniform and choppy, and action seemed to begin and end so rapidly that there was no time to build up suspense. This might seem to be an odd criticism to levy against a book, but it truly felt as if I was only reading about events; they weren't actually occurring. A good novel needs immersion, needs to pull its reader out of the real world and into theirs, and for a good while, Frozen failed to deliver. While that aspect did improve over the course of the novel, problems with pacing continued to plague Frozen from cover to cover.
Betrayals, character deaths (and resurrections), various tribulations and crises... none lasted long enough for me to truly become emotionally invested. When an important character dies, for example, my default position is a solid belief that they're not really dead. Give it a couple chapters, though, and I'll begin to doubt... maybe the author did kill off little Susie Soandso for real. For a twist to work, the author needs to instill that doubt, or else the fake-out death will have no impact on the reader; he or she never had the chance to become invested in the implications of the death. That's where Frozen's pacing really acts as a drag: each crisis is resolved, each emotional trauma assuaged before it can truly impact the reader, and a tale will often veer into the realm of bland when it is unable to pull on the reader's heartstrings.
However, Frozen did have some saving graces. For one, it's not your classic YA dystopian cookie-cutter. In fact, it is an incredibly unique fusion of different genres. It bridges science fiction and fantasy in a way that Whispers in Autumn tried and failed, it has the military charm, intrigue, and romance of the Legend trilogy (without that series' over-the-top thematic statements), it's full of the swashbuckling, sea-faring escapades of Pirates of the Caribbean along with a hearty helping of Graceling-style adventure and fantasy. Fans of Graceling (a 2008 novel by Kristin Cashore) will actually find a great number of similarities: individuals who are gifted with magic have strangely-coloured eyes, they're societal pariahs, our heroine has a murderous gift that makes her a monster... while these similarities may serve to undermine my claims of Frozen's uniqueness, these elements are just one small part of a wonderful genre mismatch that creates a surprisingly complementary, well-seasoned dish.
The result of these genres are the setting and the adventure, the two respects in which Frozen truly shines. The tale takes place in a fantastical, futuristic Las Vegas, redefined after a frozen apocalypse and full of magic à la urban fantasy. This fusion of old and new creates a setting that is at once familiar and rife for exploration, something that is extremely significant to story that, at its essence, follows a traditional quest plot structure. New Vegas, Garbage Country, the deadly, trash-filled Pacific... each segment of the journey is vividly imagined and subtly insightful, creating an unspoken commentary on present-day consumer culture with a finesse that would seemingly go over the head of Legend writer Marie Lu. Despite its fantastical elements, Frozen's future is an undeniable reflection of the present day, and the way in which the authors integrate this vision into their story is admirable.
As previously mentioned, the adventure itself is a classic quest, and there's something so readable about this type of storyline. Unlike many of its YA fellows, Frozen's plot does not get bogged down by teenage angst or love triangles. Admittedly, Nat is a fairly angsty protagonist, but her fears of being a monster are fairly substantiated, and the romance between her and Wes is rather tolerable. Significantly, the romance runs congruently with getting our heroes to their destination, not oppositely, and therefore instead of dragging on the plot, their 'will they/won't they' serves to push the action along.
All in all, Frozen is a solid, immensely-readable tale, even if the writing itself sometimes gets in the way of the story. (As a side note, a special mention must be made to the novel's epigraphs, all of which were particularly well-chosen.) I'll definitely be giving the novel's sequel, Stolen, a look once it comes out later this year, but for now I'll keep my expectations for the rest of the series as a blank slate.
Wednesday, 9 April 2014
16. Sugar Rush
The book: Rush (The Game #1)
The author: Eve Silver
The rating: 4 stars
Despite Rush's health-nut protagonist, if I were asked to sum up the novel when I was half-way through, my answer would have been 'empty calories.'
For a long while, Rush felt like nothing but fluff. It was little more than genre stereotype after genre stereotype; just in terms of the fifteen novels I've reviewed so far on this blog, if you mashed Whispers in Autumn with Relativity you'd probably get something close to Rush. You've got Miki, an angsty teen protagonist (she's still mourning the loss of her mother), a stereotypical love triangle between Miki, Luka, and Jackson (the cute, friendly, open childhood friend versus the aloof, sexy, mysterious stranger), a 'normal teen life' complete with drama that would make any real teenager cringe (and, like Relativity, a completely embarrassing texting sequence), underdeveloped throwaway secondary characters, not to mention that our protagonist is SuperSpecial™. Even the whole 'incredibly original' aliens plot seems to be Ender's Game with a slight coat of paint.
Then it all began to change. I'm not the kind of girl who falls for the aloof, sexy, mysterious boy. Never. Not Ky in Matched, or Edward in Twilight, or Gabriel in Dark Visions. I'm the kind of girl who rolls her eyes when the heroine falls in love with the bad boy yet again, just another cliched conclusion to a cliched love triangle.
I fell for Jackson Tate.
Because, gradually, so many of the cliches that Rush presents are subverted. The love triangle fades away like a breath of fresh reality. When Jackson's aloof, sexy, mysterious facade begins to chip, it's not a cardboard cutout the reader finds beneath, but an intriguing, unique character. For the first time in quite a long while, I've read a love story that I can buy into. So many times while reading YA novels I bemoan the artificial taste of the romance, that the characters lack chemistry, that the couple fell too quickly for their love to feel real. But not Rush. The pacing, the chemistry, everything was perfect, a wonderful complement to the novel's primary plot.
By the novel's end, Rush had broken almost completely from its chrysalis of cliches, coming tentatively into its own. Miki's growth as a character is clear, and her shifting personality and view of her world allows for some intriguing contrast. As for the end... well, I'm glad June is only a couple months away, because I don't think I could wait longer to get my hands on the sequel, Push (although if Silver pulls an Ender's Game-style twist on me, I'll just have to take back all those compliments about shedding cliche).
The author: Eve Silver
The rating: 4 stars
Despite Rush's health-nut protagonist, if I were asked to sum up the novel when I was half-way through, my answer would have been 'empty calories.'
For a long while, Rush felt like nothing but fluff. It was little more than genre stereotype after genre stereotype; just in terms of the fifteen novels I've reviewed so far on this blog, if you mashed Whispers in Autumn with Relativity you'd probably get something close to Rush. You've got Miki, an angsty teen protagonist (she's still mourning the loss of her mother), a stereotypical love triangle between Miki, Luka, and Jackson (the cute, friendly, open childhood friend versus the aloof, sexy, mysterious stranger), a 'normal teen life' complete with drama that would make any real teenager cringe (and, like Relativity, a completely embarrassing texting sequence), underdeveloped throwaway secondary characters, not to mention that our protagonist is SuperSpecial™. Even the whole 'incredibly original' aliens plot seems to be Ender's Game with a slight coat of paint.
Then it all began to change. I'm not the kind of girl who falls for the aloof, sexy, mysterious boy. Never. Not Ky in Matched, or Edward in Twilight, or Gabriel in Dark Visions. I'm the kind of girl who rolls her eyes when the heroine falls in love with the bad boy yet again, just another cliched conclusion to a cliched love triangle.
I fell for Jackson Tate.
Because, gradually, so many of the cliches that Rush presents are subverted. The love triangle fades away like a breath of fresh reality. When Jackson's aloof, sexy, mysterious facade begins to chip, it's not a cardboard cutout the reader finds beneath, but an intriguing, unique character. For the first time in quite a long while, I've read a love story that I can buy into. So many times while reading YA novels I bemoan the artificial taste of the romance, that the characters lack chemistry, that the couple fell too quickly for their love to feel real. But not Rush. The pacing, the chemistry, everything was perfect, a wonderful complement to the novel's primary plot.
By the novel's end, Rush had broken almost completely from its chrysalis of cliches, coming tentatively into its own. Miki's growth as a character is clear, and her shifting personality and view of her world allows for some intriguing contrast. As for the end... well, I'm glad June is only a couple months away, because I don't think I could wait longer to get my hands on the sequel, Push (although if Silver pulls an Ender's Game-style twist on me, I'll just have to take back all those compliments about shedding cliche).
Monday, 10 March 2014
11. Science and Faith
The book: Relativity
The author: Cristin Bishara
The rating: 4 stars
I should have felt a strong connection with Relativity's science-geek protagonist, Ruby Wright. I'm the girl who got weird looks in tenth grade writing class for spending silent reading pouring over Brian Greene's The Hidden Reality; I'm the girl whose best friend refused to go anywhere with her for weeks after she dragged her to a university lecture on the Casimir effect in grade eleven. I'd be a tremendous hypocrite to say that teenagers can't know the things that Ruby knows or like the things that Ruby likes. But despite our parallels, I didn't feel that connection. Throughout Relativity, the thought that Ruby was just a caricature of a teenager niggled at the back of my mind, and it was an idea that proved impossible to shake. I felt an immense sense of secondhand embarrassment during all text-messaging scenes, the kind you get when your grandmother tells you she got an account on The Facebook, but even discounting those, so much of Ruby seems to be lifted from an extremely unimaginative stereotype of what a teenager is. Angsty, lusty, rebellious, precocious, self-centered... our intelligent protagonist hates pink and all things girly, while her evil stepsister is well-dressed and vain. Also, for someone who's so into math and science, you'd think that Ruby would be more cognisant of the distinction between a theory and a hypothesis, that she would know that the 'law of averages' does not exist, and that she'd be the slightest bit familiar with a Caesar cipher.
Honestly, I'm being far too critical. I'm thrilled that a YA author chose to make a science-loving protagonist, and my standards are probably just too high since it hits so close to home. So lets stop dwelling on the negatives and let me get to the parts of Relativity that I loved.
First off: the premise. Science fiction is not written enough for the young adult market (aside from dystopians, but I can't complain about those), and so Bishara definitely brings something fresh to the table with Relativity. While its definitely a difficult plot to pitch -- I consistently was treated to raised eyebrows when I responded to "what's that book about?" with "a girl who is traveling through parallel universes" -- I loved the incorporation of science into the setting. Sure, the end result of allowing Ruby to explore the 'what-ifs' of her existence could have been done just as easily by some magic MacGuffin or faery sidekick, but the use of sci-fi instead of fantasy is a welcome change.
The settings themselves are also superb, the slight (or drastic) shifts between the universes, impeccable. Bishara works in some wonderful juxtaposition between the homes in which the other Rubies and her other families live; between the high schools; between Ennis and O Direain as wholes. While the plotline itself isn't exactly novel (as I wrote before I started reading, "If this book ends with the 'twist' that her original life was best all along, I will have just wasted 288 pages of my life"), the setting and premise make the familiar trek well worth the journey. For those familiar with Christopher Booker's idea of the seven plots of fiction, Relativity fits the "Voyage and Return" plot to a T. To quote for those unfamiliar:
The author: Cristin Bishara
The rating: 4 stars
I should have felt a strong connection with Relativity's science-geek protagonist, Ruby Wright. I'm the girl who got weird looks in tenth grade writing class for spending silent reading pouring over Brian Greene's The Hidden Reality; I'm the girl whose best friend refused to go anywhere with her for weeks after she dragged her to a university lecture on the Casimir effect in grade eleven. I'd be a tremendous hypocrite to say that teenagers can't know the things that Ruby knows or like the things that Ruby likes. But despite our parallels, I didn't feel that connection. Throughout Relativity, the thought that Ruby was just a caricature of a teenager niggled at the back of my mind, and it was an idea that proved impossible to shake. I felt an immense sense of secondhand embarrassment during all text-messaging scenes, the kind you get when your grandmother tells you she got an account on The Facebook, but even discounting those, so much of Ruby seems to be lifted from an extremely unimaginative stereotype of what a teenager is. Angsty, lusty, rebellious, precocious, self-centered... our intelligent protagonist hates pink and all things girly, while her evil stepsister is well-dressed and vain. Also, for someone who's so into math and science, you'd think that Ruby would be more cognisant of the distinction between a theory and a hypothesis, that she would know that the 'law of averages' does not exist, and that she'd be the slightest bit familiar with a Caesar cipher.
Honestly, I'm being far too critical. I'm thrilled that a YA author chose to make a science-loving protagonist, and my standards are probably just too high since it hits so close to home. So lets stop dwelling on the negatives and let me get to the parts of Relativity that I loved.
First off: the premise. Science fiction is not written enough for the young adult market (aside from dystopians, but I can't complain about those), and so Bishara definitely brings something fresh to the table with Relativity. While its definitely a difficult plot to pitch -- I consistently was treated to raised eyebrows when I responded to "what's that book about?" with "a girl who is traveling through parallel universes" -- I loved the incorporation of science into the setting. Sure, the end result of allowing Ruby to explore the 'what-ifs' of her existence could have been done just as easily by some magic MacGuffin or faery sidekick, but the use of sci-fi instead of fantasy is a welcome change.
The settings themselves are also superb, the slight (or drastic) shifts between the universes, impeccable. Bishara works in some wonderful juxtaposition between the homes in which the other Rubies and her other families live; between the high schools; between Ennis and O Direain as wholes. While the plotline itself isn't exactly novel (as I wrote before I started reading, "If this book ends with the 'twist' that her original life was best all along, I will have just wasted 288 pages of my life"), the setting and premise make the familiar trek well worth the journey. For those familiar with Christopher Booker's idea of the seven plots of fiction, Relativity fits the "Voyage and Return" plot to a T. To quote for those unfamiliar:
...hero or heroine... travel out of their familiar, everyday 'normal' surroundings into another world completely cut off from the first, where everything seems disconcertingly abnormal. At first the strangeness of this new world, with its freaks and marvels, may seem diverting, even exhilarating, if also highly perplexing. But gradually a shadow intrudes. The hero or heroine feels increasingly threatened, even trapped: until eventually (usually by way of a 'thrilling escape') they are released from the abnormal world, and can return to the safety of the familiar world where they began.So yes, just by the little blurb on the dust jacket you may know how Relativity will turn out, but the interesting premise and engaging adventure make the journey much more important than the destination. I'll definitely be checking out Bishara's future efforts, in this universe and in all others.
Monday, 10 February 2014
7. Fighting 'Til the End
The book: Champion (Legend #3)
The author: Marie Lu
The rating: 3.5 stars
"Billions of people will come and go in this world," he says softly, "but there will never be another like you."
So, here we are. The end of an era, the conclusion of a trilogy, the final page in the story of Day and June. I chose that epigraph with a touch of irony; as has been the problem for the entire series, my biggest issue with Champion is that there will always be plenty more like it. It's not that I'm expecting the Earth and the stars, but in every novel, I hope to find something fresh. A unique idea. A unique voice. A twist. A spark. Champion and the Legend series as a whole are everything you expect from the dystopian genre; they follow all the steps, but they're missing the breath of life to take them from cookie-cutter story to true adventure.
More so than either of its predecessors, Champion feels like it is just going through the motions. I was constantly struck by how little had happened in such a large number of pages; the premise may be the invasion of the Republic, but aside from that frame, there is little-to-no plot. We get to visit another country in Lu's futuristic world, Antarctic, itself replete with a ridiculous government system heavy-handedly engineered to give readers their daily dose of Diet Theme. We see the continuation of Day's soap-opera storyline, and... I'm at a loss to list much else that happened until we reach the 3/4 mark. June goes to a senate meeting. We spend copious amounts of time in a hospital setting. There's a sex scene. I'm actually kind of impressed by how much space Lu manages to fill with so little. The plot coasts off the events of the previous two books; there's no wild adventures, no intriguing ideas, no exciting premises. Lu's just killing time until we get to the conclusion.
The conclusion. Based upon what I've written thus far, it seems a bit weird for me to be giving the novel a higher rating than Prodigy. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about the conclusion, but it's Champion's saving grace. It's fresh. It's well-written. More happens in the epilogue than in the novel's entirety. For once, Lu brings something fresh to the table, something beyond the cliched happy ever after or textbook bittersweet ending. Upon inspection, the ending did have some considerable flaws: I'm not a neuroscientist, but I don't think people work that way; that relocation seems to go against our daily theme injection; does the future-Internet magically disappear or something? These sort of flaws don't bother me much, though. This may seem hard to believe, especially considering the ratings I've been doling out, but I'm not really a harsh critic. If a book's enjoyable, so what if there are a few plot holes along the way? It's a story, an adventure; if you're too caught up in the hard science of it, you're not going to enjoy the ride.
While Champion was not all that it could have been, the ending was. It was distinct, mature... it had that sense of both realism and magic that had enchanted me in Legend but had been missing from the series since. Plus, Day gets a haircut; it's everything I'd wanted all along. I'm not sure if I'll be willing to pick up any of Lu's future efforts, but all in all I'm glad to have taken the chance on the Legend series.
The author: Marie Lu
The rating: 3.5 stars
"Billions of people will come and go in this world," he says softly, "but there will never be another like you."
So, here we are. The end of an era, the conclusion of a trilogy, the final page in the story of Day and June. I chose that epigraph with a touch of irony; as has been the problem for the entire series, my biggest issue with Champion is that there will always be plenty more like it. It's not that I'm expecting the Earth and the stars, but in every novel, I hope to find something fresh. A unique idea. A unique voice. A twist. A spark. Champion and the Legend series as a whole are everything you expect from the dystopian genre; they follow all the steps, but they're missing the breath of life to take them from cookie-cutter story to true adventure.
More so than either of its predecessors, Champion feels like it is just going through the motions. I was constantly struck by how little had happened in such a large number of pages; the premise may be the invasion of the Republic, but aside from that frame, there is little-to-no plot. We get to visit another country in Lu's futuristic world, Antarctic, itself replete with a ridiculous government system heavy-handedly engineered to give readers their daily dose of Diet Theme. We see the continuation of Day's soap-opera storyline, and... I'm at a loss to list much else that happened until we reach the 3/4 mark. June goes to a senate meeting. We spend copious amounts of time in a hospital setting. There's a sex scene. I'm actually kind of impressed by how much space Lu manages to fill with so little. The plot coasts off the events of the previous two books; there's no wild adventures, no intriguing ideas, no exciting premises. Lu's just killing time until we get to the conclusion.
The conclusion. Based upon what I've written thus far, it seems a bit weird for me to be giving the novel a higher rating than Prodigy. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about the conclusion, but it's Champion's saving grace. It's fresh. It's well-written. More happens in the epilogue than in the novel's entirety. For once, Lu brings something fresh to the table, something beyond the cliched happy ever after or textbook bittersweet ending. Upon inspection, the ending did have some considerable flaws: I'm not a neuroscientist, but I don't think people work that way; that relocation seems to go against our daily theme injection; does the future-Internet magically disappear or something? These sort of flaws don't bother me much, though. This may seem hard to believe, especially considering the ratings I've been doling out, but I'm not really a harsh critic. If a book's enjoyable, so what if there are a few plot holes along the way? It's a story, an adventure; if you're too caught up in the hard science of it, you're not going to enjoy the ride.
While Champion was not all that it could have been, the ending was. It was distinct, mature... it had that sense of both realism and magic that had enchanted me in Legend but had been missing from the series since. Plus, Day gets a haircut; it's everything I'd wanted all along. I'm not sure if I'll be willing to pick up any of Lu's future efforts, but all in all I'm glad to have taken the chance on the Legend series.
Thursday, 30 January 2014
5. The Legend Continues
The book: Prodigy (Legend #2)
The author: Marie Lu
The rating: 3 stars
Well, it's New England that gets flooded, not Canada, so I guess I'll give Lu points for originality.
Prodigy was a bit of a disappointment for me. As I mentioned oh-so-long-ago in my review of Legend, I had high hopes for the world-building, but those hopes fell flat. Social commentaries are great, or any kind of commentary - too frequently YA writers neglect to have these deeper messages in their works, as if teens can't handle interpreting profound themes - but I didn't find that Lu integrated hers well into the novel. Prodigy definitely seems as if it has something to say about classism and class culture, but instead of really doing anything meaningful with those ideas, it ends up culminating in a second-rate Romeo & Juliet star-crossed lovers shtick. Similarly, the Colonies appear as if they were intended to be an emphatically exaggerated version of today's American consumer culture, but this allegory came across clunky and without finesse. It's almost as if Prodigy is Diet Theme (TM) -- tastes pretty much like actual Theme, but with zero calories of brainpower required.
Another thing I had loved about Legend was the strong supporting characters, but Prodigy completely disregards this strength. Aside from Day and June, the cast is all either killed off, sent away from the plot, or they are simply boring cardboard cut-outs, without the depth that I had loved about Legend's characters. Throw in some artificial-tasting love triangles (yes, plural, although I guess that might just make it a love square?) and a completely cliche 'twist' ending that seems more at home on a daytime soap than in an adventure-dystopia novel, and you've got a recipe for a disappointing sequel.
With these reservations aside, the overall plot was enjoyable enough; I'd go as far as to say Prodigy was stronger than the original in the plot department. Instead of relying on old dystopian cliches, Prodigy had its own flavour and twists. Some worked and some did not, but they did succeed in making an entertaining enough story. Despite this more original plot, I wasn't as enthralled with Prodigy as I was with Legend, but that's mostly attributed to characters and pacing. We spend a lot of time watching characters sit around, worry, and do nothing; reading about your protagonists wringing their hands and whining for pages on end does neither them nor the pacing any favours.
I'm a strong proponent of the 'Middle Novel Weakness' theory, in which the second novel in a trilogy is typically the poorest; the first has the benefit of originality, the third has the thrilling conclusion, but the second is that awkward middle child that has to bridge the gap, not able to pique interest or present resolution. Therefore, my hopes for the third book in this trilogy remain unshaken: Prodigy may have had its rough spots, but perhaps Champion will finally allow the saga to reach its lofty potential.
The author: Marie Lu
The rating: 3 stars
Well, it's New England that gets flooded, not Canada, so I guess I'll give Lu points for originality.
Prodigy was a bit of a disappointment for me. As I mentioned oh-so-long-ago in my review of Legend, I had high hopes for the world-building, but those hopes fell flat. Social commentaries are great, or any kind of commentary - too frequently YA writers neglect to have these deeper messages in their works, as if teens can't handle interpreting profound themes - but I didn't find that Lu integrated hers well into the novel. Prodigy definitely seems as if it has something to say about classism and class culture, but instead of really doing anything meaningful with those ideas, it ends up culminating in a second-rate Romeo & Juliet star-crossed lovers shtick. Similarly, the Colonies appear as if they were intended to be an emphatically exaggerated version of today's American consumer culture, but this allegory came across clunky and without finesse. It's almost as if Prodigy is Diet Theme (TM) -- tastes pretty much like actual Theme, but with zero calories of brainpower required.
Another thing I had loved about Legend was the strong supporting characters, but Prodigy completely disregards this strength. Aside from Day and June, the cast is all either killed off, sent away from the plot, or they are simply boring cardboard cut-outs, without the depth that I had loved about Legend's characters. Throw in some artificial-tasting love triangles (yes, plural, although I guess that might just make it a love square?) and a completely cliche 'twist' ending that seems more at home on a daytime soap than in an adventure-dystopia novel, and you've got a recipe for a disappointing sequel.
With these reservations aside, the overall plot was enjoyable enough; I'd go as far as to say Prodigy was stronger than the original in the plot department. Instead of relying on old dystopian cliches, Prodigy had its own flavour and twists. Some worked and some did not, but they did succeed in making an entertaining enough story. Despite this more original plot, I wasn't as enthralled with Prodigy as I was with Legend, but that's mostly attributed to characters and pacing. We spend a lot of time watching characters sit around, worry, and do nothing; reading about your protagonists wringing their hands and whining for pages on end does neither them nor the pacing any favours.
I'm a strong proponent of the 'Middle Novel Weakness' theory, in which the second novel in a trilogy is typically the poorest; the first has the benefit of originality, the third has the thrilling conclusion, but the second is that awkward middle child that has to bridge the gap, not able to pique interest or present resolution. Therefore, my hopes for the third book in this trilogy remain unshaken: Prodigy may have had its rough spots, but perhaps Champion will finally allow the saga to reach its lofty potential.
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