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wilderthanLiar (Justine Larbalestier)
I first heard of Liar when everyone was talking about the controversy surrounding the original cover. I filed it away in the back of my mind, thinking of picking the book up when it came out. I was reminded of it recently when friends started to talk about it again -- through having read it, now -- and put it on my last minute Christmas list. Cue me getting it in the mail yesterday, and being almost unable to resist the lure of the first page, which starts with the hook, "I was born with a light covering of fur."
If you don't enjoy unreliable narrators, step away right now. Micah is as unreliable as you can get, and the whole book peels back -- or layers on -- more of her lies.
For the first part of the book, it could be the story of a normal teenager -- one who has had bad things happen to her, and who is a loner, yes, but one who is essentially like those around her. It doesn't stay like that, though: if you're not a fan of fantastical elements, you probably want to step back now.
The thing with this book is that there are at least two ways of reading it. It's a delicate balance to walk, but Larbalestier does, in my opinion, walk it well. It wasn't wholly unpredictable, but I have been spoiled a little by reading other people's reviews. If you can, and this book sounds interesting to you, then try to go into it knowing as little as possible -- just knowing that Micah is a liar (not a spoiler: it's in the title).
The other thing that pleased me was the fact that the book has non-white characters -- chiefly non-white characters, in fact -- and LGBT content, plus a generally sex-positive attitude. There's totally non-explicit sexual references, there's an understanding of teenagers feeling and dealing with desire, and I didn't get a 'sex is bad, hush, we don't talk about sex' vibe from it.
(It irks me that there are likely people reading this review thinking, 'I'd better not give this to my teenage daughter.' There's nothing in this that would have damaged my fragile fourteen year old psyche. It's just people.)
I realise this doesn't tell you much about how I, personally, felt about this book: I read it within the space of an afternoon, and kept stopping myself after every fifty pages so I could drag it out more and enjoy it for that bit longer. When I put it down, I already had a list of people I want to recommend it to.
The Hundred and Ninety-Nine Steps (Michel Faber)
More of a novella than a novel, I think. I never really found myself engaging with it: most of it was just too perfunctory for me. The relationship between the main characters never really goes anywhere; the digging that is supposed to be absorbing her certainly doesn't absorb me; her emotions regarding her accident barely seem to manifest; the charged emotions between the main characters fail to move me; her obsession with the man's dog just seems a little odd...
There were two things I found well-described. One was her anxiety about her health, her determination through most of the book to stick it out without going to the hospital. I've felt that way, and Michel Faber made me feel it again. And the other -- and less so -- was the description of her painstaking efforts to separate the pages of the manuscript.
Ultimately, though, it took up an hour of my time and didn't give me much back beside an echo of my anxious stomach-aches! That's probably part of the reason I didn't engage with the story. For something I got for £1 in the sale on the Kindle store, I wouldn't say it was a waste, but it didn't exactly glitter for me.
The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ (Philip Pullman)
Philip Pullman's book based on the life of Jesus has garnered quite a lot of angry reviews and controversy. Some people have even decided that they don't need for him to die and be judged by their god to know that he's "going to hell" -- they can judge that for themselves, in their infinite wisdom! The problem seems to be that Pullman, like many people in the modern world, doesn't believe the stories of the Bible are anything more or less than the stories that come to us from Ancient Greece or Rome. The series he's writing for, Canongate's myth series, has touched on those mythologies before, which are often (but not universally) considered to be fictional now: it is a bit of a step from that to doing this.
If anything, I think Pullman sticks too close to the source material. He has an intriguing idea: Jesus had a twin brother, and when he 'rises from the dead', it is that twin brother, still living, who actually speaks to his followers as though he is Jesus. I suspect that was the germ of the story, though a whole commentary about truth and history, and the purpose of rewritten history, is built around it.
Still, despite this idea, he sticks very close to the words of the Bible. His writing has a parable-like quality, here: it's clear and easy to read, but with some beautiful imagery. One of my favourite quotations is copied below, in which Jesus speaks to a God who does not seem to answer, about what he believes a church should be.
"Lord, if I thought you were listening, I'd pray for this above all: that any church set up in your name should remain poor, and powerless, and modest. That it should wield no authority except that of love. That it should never cast anyone out. That it should own no property and make no laws. That it should not condemn, but only forgive. That it should be not like a palace with marble walls and polished floors, and guards standing at the door, but like a tree with its roots deep in the soil, that shelters every kind of bird and beast and gives blossom in the spring and shade in the hot sun and fruit in the season, and in time gives up its good sound wood for the carpenter; but that sheds many thousands of seeds so that new trees can grow in its place. Does the tree say to the sparrow, 'Get out, you don't belong here?' Does the tree say to the hungry man, 'This fruit is not for you?' Does the tree test the loyalty of the beasts before it allows them into the shade?"
Passages like this are the reason I rated this book so highly.
Pullman is critical of the church, mostly the Catholic church, with some very specific digs at it, including the abuse of children by priests. But his words stay close to those of the Bible, often repeating it almost word for word, like it's just a more colloquial translation. There wasn't enough of the new frame story, I think.
I don't think Pullman's views are so insensitive. If your religion can't bear criticism and opposition, then you need to think about why that is. His portrayal of Jesus as a good, human, doubting man ends up being a lovely one, a tender one. He never claims that what he's saying is truth, only that this is one way it could have happened: this is clearly fiction.
I first heard of Liar when everyone was talking about the controversy surrounding the original cover. I filed it away in the back of my mind, thinking of picking the book up when it came out. I was reminded of it recently when friends started to talk about it again -- through having read it, now -- and put it on my last minute Christmas list. Cue me getting it in the mail yesterday, and being almost unable to resist the lure of the first page, which starts with the hook, "I was born with a light covering of fur."
If you don't enjoy unreliable narrators, step away right now. Micah is as unreliable as you can get, and the whole book peels back -- or layers on -- more of her lies.
For the first part of the book, it could be the story of a normal teenager -- one who has had bad things happen to her, and who is a loner, yes, but one who is essentially like those around her. It doesn't stay like that, though: if you're not a fan of fantastical elements, you probably want to step back now.
The thing with this book is that there are at least two ways of reading it. It's a delicate balance to walk, but Larbalestier does, in my opinion, walk it well. It wasn't wholly unpredictable, but I have been spoiled a little by reading other people's reviews. If you can, and this book sounds interesting to you, then try to go into it knowing as little as possible -- just knowing that Micah is a liar (not a spoiler: it's in the title).
The other thing that pleased me was the fact that the book has non-white characters -- chiefly non-white characters, in fact -- and LGBT content, plus a generally sex-positive attitude. There's totally non-explicit sexual references, there's an understanding of teenagers feeling and dealing with desire, and I didn't get a 'sex is bad, hush, we don't talk about sex' vibe from it.
(It irks me that there are likely people reading this review thinking, 'I'd better not give this to my teenage daughter.' There's nothing in this that would have damaged my fragile fourteen year old psyche. It's just people.)
I realise this doesn't tell you much about how I, personally, felt about this book: I read it within the space of an afternoon, and kept stopping myself after every fifty pages so I could drag it out more and enjoy it for that bit longer. When I put it down, I already had a list of people I want to recommend it to.
The Hundred and Ninety-Nine Steps (Michel Faber)
More of a novella than a novel, I think. I never really found myself engaging with it: most of it was just too perfunctory for me. The relationship between the main characters never really goes anywhere; the digging that is supposed to be absorbing her certainly doesn't absorb me; her emotions regarding her accident barely seem to manifest; the charged emotions between the main characters fail to move me; her obsession with the man's dog just seems a little odd...
There were two things I found well-described. One was her anxiety about her health, her determination through most of the book to stick it out without going to the hospital. I've felt that way, and Michel Faber made me feel it again. And the other -- and less so -- was the description of her painstaking efforts to separate the pages of the manuscript.
Ultimately, though, it took up an hour of my time and didn't give me much back beside an echo of my anxious stomach-aches! That's probably part of the reason I didn't engage with the story. For something I got for £1 in the sale on the Kindle store, I wouldn't say it was a waste, but it didn't exactly glitter for me.
The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ (Philip Pullman)
Philip Pullman's book based on the life of Jesus has garnered quite a lot of angry reviews and controversy. Some people have even decided that they don't need for him to die and be judged by their god to know that he's "going to hell" -- they can judge that for themselves, in their infinite wisdom! The problem seems to be that Pullman, like many people in the modern world, doesn't believe the stories of the Bible are anything more or less than the stories that come to us from Ancient Greece or Rome. The series he's writing for, Canongate's myth series, has touched on those mythologies before, which are often (but not universally) considered to be fictional now: it is a bit of a step from that to doing this.
If anything, I think Pullman sticks too close to the source material. He has an intriguing idea: Jesus had a twin brother, and when he 'rises from the dead', it is that twin brother, still living, who actually speaks to his followers as though he is Jesus. I suspect that was the germ of the story, though a whole commentary about truth and history, and the purpose of rewritten history, is built around it.
Still, despite this idea, he sticks very close to the words of the Bible. His writing has a parable-like quality, here: it's clear and easy to read, but with some beautiful imagery. One of my favourite quotations is copied below, in which Jesus speaks to a God who does not seem to answer, about what he believes a church should be.
"Lord, if I thought you were listening, I'd pray for this above all: that any church set up in your name should remain poor, and powerless, and modest. That it should wield no authority except that of love. That it should never cast anyone out. That it should own no property and make no laws. That it should not condemn, but only forgive. That it should be not like a palace with marble walls and polished floors, and guards standing at the door, but like a tree with its roots deep in the soil, that shelters every kind of bird and beast and gives blossom in the spring and shade in the hot sun and fruit in the season, and in time gives up its good sound wood for the carpenter; but that sheds many thousands of seeds so that new trees can grow in its place. Does the tree say to the sparrow, 'Get out, you don't belong here?' Does the tree say to the hungry man, 'This fruit is not for you?' Does the tree test the loyalty of the beasts before it allows them into the shade?"
Passages like this are the reason I rated this book so highly.
Pullman is critical of the church, mostly the Catholic church, with some very specific digs at it, including the abuse of children by priests. But his words stay close to those of the Bible, often repeating it almost word for word, like it's just a more colloquial translation. There wasn't enough of the new frame story, I think.
I don't think Pullman's views are so insensitive. If your religion can't bear criticism and opposition, then you need to think about why that is. His portrayal of Jesus as a good, human, doubting man ends up being a lovely one, a tender one. He never claims that what he's saying is truth, only that this is one way it could have happened: this is clearly fiction.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-07 10:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-07 11:37 am (UTC)