The Queen's Bastard - Robin Maxwell

★★★★★★★★★★ (9/10)

Who ever said that unexplained rumors weren't fascinating? This novel delves into the "what if" of Arthur Dudley, the man who claimed to be the son of Elizabeth and Robin Dudley.  His claims were never validated, but the rumor still circulates to this day as to whether he spoke the truth.  The Queen's Bastard uses what little information was known about Arthur Dudley, and the known events of Elizabeth's life to piece together what might have happened.

Like any good story, Maxwell begins at the beginning.  She starts with Arthur explaining the purpose of the memoir he is writing, and why he believes his words to be important.  This also helps to explain who he is in terms of his relationship to the royal family and England. Then the story jumps to the history of Elizabeth's and Robin Dudley's decades-long affair, that everyone at court seemed to know about.  While the private-life events are fictional, they do make Elizabeth a much more interesting monarch.  She is always described as stubborn and determined, but Maxwell wants to show that this applied to how she lived her personal life as well as her public life. 

As the novel continues, Arthur grows up.  Maxwell shows his whole life, from birth to age 25, which is when all record of him disappears, although she does speculate what happened to him after that through his trip to the Americas. He grows up in a completely different world than the one his parents live in.  Arthur is adopted as a younger son to a family that owns a dairy, and later, take care of  a chase park (where hunting parties can hire horses to chase down deer and other animals).  He has a remarkable amount of fortitude, even from a young age.  He bears things that a child would not usually put up with.  Despite his royal birth, he is subject to the pain, poverty, and difficulties of the life of a commoner: nothing in his life is certain, and he must take the best out of every situation. 

Arthur is an amazing character, although a little unbelievable.  His is a life meant to be fantastical because of the secrets surrounding his past, but some of the situations Maxwell puts him in are too much to swallow.  One example is that he is made a spy, and though he has no training, no experience, no way to know what he is doing, Arthur is a genius.  He has been able to acquire information no one else could.  Also, he decides to become a soldier and ends up in the company of William of Orange.  Not only does he meet William, he becomes recognized by him, and even becomes commonly known to William's family.  This is highly unlikely for a young man from a chase, with only knowledge of horses to recommend him, to accomplish.  Yet, it happens in this novel, and I take these plot points as just part of the larger story.  They are important, but I was more interested in how Maxwell would portray his meeting with Elizabeth and Dudley.

In the meantime, between snippets from Arthur's memoirs, Maxwell puts the reader in the court, but with an intimate view of the happenings of Elizabeth's private life.  I got to see the behind the scenes arguments, the passion, the anger, the intrigues, the inner workings of Elizabeth's mind and why she ruled as she did.  Maxwell gives this perspective for almost 30 years of Elizabeth's life, from when she assumed the throne, to after she meets Arthur.  It is a tragic life because of all of the obstacles she needed to overcome, both as Queen, and as a person. She dealt with foreign powers, betrayals from those she trusted, and the deaths of those she loved.

Through it all, Maxwell keeps up a steady stream of interesting scenes that kept me turning the pages as if my life depended on it. I even loved that in Arthur's memoirs, Maxwell added in the occasional misspelling, strange punctuation, or odd word choice that might have happened during the time period.  I had never heard this rumor about Elizabeth having a secret child, who later came back into the picture, but I was enchanted by Maxwell's imaginative story about what might have happened.  Like all good historical mysteries, there will never be a way to prove or disprove this scandal, but it's a little bit more fun to have stories like The Queen's Bastard to imagine "what if."

The Dress Lodger - Sheri Holman

★★★★★★★★★★ (7/10)

Harsh, depressing, morbid, yet oddly uplifting. Simply put, this is a story about a prostitute, a doctor, body-snatching, and cholera in 1831.  It's a stark retelling of the vast differences between the lower and upper classes of England, and the fears that each had about the other.  It's a story about survival, death, hope, and resignation. And it's confusing as hell.

Gustine, our heroine, is a fifteen-year-old prostitute with a baby.  She works in a pottery factory by day, and by night, she wears an elaborate blue gown (rented from her landlord) and roams Sunderland for hopefully higher-class men who will pay her well.  She's a strange person, because she doesn't seem to really care that she sells her body, as long as she has a place to live, and can provide everything her child needs.  Gustine seems to have no idea of love beyond the feelings she has for her child, even when it looks like she might be developing a crush on a young doctor.  It turns out that she simply wants to use him, and Gustine sinks down in my regard for her.

The doctor is a completely different case.  He is trying to escape his past; a past haunted by the knowledge that he and his teacher were unknowingly involved in one of the worst murder cases in Edinburgh.  They purchased the bodies of murdered bodies, killed by two men, Burke and Hare, who killed anyone they wanted because they knew they could sell the bodies of those they murdered.  It was the doctor, Henry Chiver, and his teacher who purchased these bodies, and encouraged the criminals to continue on their spree.  Henry left town, to end up in Sunderland, where he tried to become a teacher as well, but was too terrified to produce a body with which to give his students practical knowledge.  He was deeply afraid that his past would come back and destroy whatever life he had made for himself.  He was only too right.

All through Gustine's and Henry's personal tribulations, the Cholera Morbus is threatening the lives of everyone in Europe.  This is where the struggles between rich and poor take center stage.  The rich (educated, wealthy, arrogant) believe the disease is real and deadly, and are willing to take whatever measures are necessary to prevent its spread.  The poor (uneducated, striving to survive, and underprivileged) believe that the disease is something either made up or created by the rich to kill the poor.  Characters like Whilkey Robinson, Gustine's landlord and pimp, are convinced that Cholera Morbus is nothing to fear, and refuse to submit to any sanitary precautions the Health Board set forth or suggest.  By the time the story is over, most of Robinson's lodgers are dead from the disease, and many from the rest of the town as well.

This feels like a story about the educated vs. the uneducated, science vs. belief, morality vs. immorality. The classic struggles that face cultures around the world are what drive the plot. What makes this difficult to read is the setup.  There are breaks in the novel where the narrative voice changes completely, and it's never quite clear who is speaking.  Time jumps around as well in places, and it would take me a few pages to figure out what had happened.  Still, it was a very engaging novel, and full of little historical tidbits (such as Napoleon's death, and the global spread of this strain of cholera).  It was painful to read about such a debilitating disease, but I learned about the way the study of medicine was perceived, in contrast to how most people see it today.

The Dress Lodger was an adventure in the past, consisting of body-snatching, a deadly illness, and the ways of life in a seaside city.  The ending had a weird ray of hope tossed in, that came from a thread that was woven since the beginning, and made a depressing plot seem not so terrible.  Given enough time to recover from the terror of an epidemic, which I've never had to experience, I would probably read this again.  It was a great find from the library, and kudos to Sheri Holman for a great read.

A Visit to Highbury - Joan Austen-Leigh

★★★★★★★★★★ (4/10)

First thoughts: "Wow! A alternate telling of Emma.  This should be good."
Thoughts now: "Didn't really have all that much to do with Emma.  Even Mrs. Goddard doesn't sound the same, and she's just repeating events I've already heard before."

This is Jane Austen's great-great-great niece retelling Emma from the point of view of Mrs. Goddard, the mistress of the school that Harriet attends, through a series of letters between Mrs. Goddard and her recently remarried sister in London, Mrs. Pinkney.  I found the story Mrs. Pinkney was telling to be a great deal more interesting than the gossipy version of Emma that Mrs. Goddard gives.

Through Mrs. Goddard, Austen-Leigh gives us the behind-the-scenes reactions of characters that are important, but not as vital as Emma herself.  Mostly, we hear about Harriet and her emotional turmoil, Mrs. and Miss Bates (who talk of almost nothing but Miss Fairfax), and the local gossip about what's going on.  This Mrs. Goddard is just as motherly, but not as elegant, as she is in Emma. I find myself wondering why she's trading idle gossip, other than that her sister asked her to.  Austen-Leigh tells a great deal about the daily goings-on of a school, such as cleaning, problems with the students, teacher issues, and disputes between the cook and the baker, but I didn't really learn any more about Emma. I guess I was hoping to find out something new, and was disappointed because it wasn't there, and maybe wasn't even meant to be there.

Mrs. Pinkney, on the other hand, is very engaging.  She's a widow who recently married her late husband's friend out of convenience.  She was left with little money, and decided that the safety of a new marriage would be her best option.  Little does she know that she's in for a lot of work with her new husband, Mr. Pinkney.  It's fascinating seeing how they work out their misunderstandings and form a bond I never expected when the novel started.  Mrs. Pinkney's "adoption" of young Charlotte is also exceedingly interesting.  She is supposedly an orphan and at the mercy of a great-aunt who cares nothing for her.  Charlotte was sent to a school in London, with the expectation that when she turned 18, she would find a position as a governess.  Mrs. Pinkney makes Charlotte her protege, and Charlotte leads a life full of fun, happiness, and love.  Her other adventures in the novel, I'll let you discover for yourself.

I don't think I'll read this book again.  Which is convenient because I borrowed it from a library.  It just didn't have the same level of involvement as Jane Austen's Emma. I can't really expect this, but if anyone is going to try to write a sequel, retelling, or reinvention of an Austen novel, they need to try a bit harder than Joan.

Mistress of the Revolution - Catherine Delors

★★★★★★★★★★ (9/10)

On the cover of Mistress of the Revolution, the Associated Press is quoted as saying that this novel is "Definitely a contender for one of the best reads of the year." Usually I don't believe the comments from book reviews because they are written by only one person; you only get one opinion, and it's usually not in keeping with my own view of a book.  However, this one was spot on. I was so eager to finish this novel because I wanted to know how it would all end, and I was not disappointed.

Mistress of the Revolution centers around Gabrielle de Montserrat, the daughter of impoverished aristocrats in the French countryside. It starts when she is about eleven years old and ends when she is forty-six.  As the author states in the historical note, Gabrielle is entirely fictional, but I found myself sharing her hopes, dreams, fears, and sorrow. Her story really brings French history to the forefront by giving a "first hand" (not really, because she wasn't real, but still) account of what life would have been like for the aristocracy during such a time of turmoil.  The story of the French Revolution is widely taught, and most students learn of the fates of King Louis and Marie-Antoinette, but little is said about their supporters, their enemies, or those caught in the middle.  Gabrielle is one such person caught in the middle, and as a woman at this time, she was mostly without any way of saving herself from the Revolutionary horrors.

Delors reveals the atrocities that existed within the nobility, those that were to come during the Revolution, and after.  Gabrielle survived it all, but her journey was one that was filled with sadness, dashed hopes, and only fleeting moments of happiness.  The novel begins with Gabrielle being dominated by her mother and brother, to the point where they deny her the only this she wants, and force her into a life of misery and physical pain.  She is passed from one authority figure to the next, and when she can finally be happy with the one person she loves, this too is taken from her, leading to her life in exile (from where she begins this novel of her memoirs). 

I couldn't help but cry at the end at Gabrielle's final revelations, when she admits truths that she concealed, even from her family.  By the last page, I can assume that Delors means Gabrielle to be content with her life, but she is not happy.  If anything, she regrets what happened, but does not give herself the pain of wondering "what might have been."  Gabrielle accepts that nothing can be changed, but she writes that "I have the memory of love, and I have hope." That is enough to keep her moving forward, hoping that her future, or her death, will bring her happiness at last.

I thought that this book was amazing.  I haven't read any historical fiction about French history, so I learned a lot about the events the Revolution (the big things such as the execution of the monarchy, as well as other historical figures and dates were true). Yet, what I got through to me most of all were Gabrielle's relationships.  For the most part she was lucky, but Delors tried to show that by being honest, maybe a little backward, and true to yourself, you can make the best of friends, and keep your head. Gabrielle is a true heroine, despite her fictionality, and I'm glad to have known her in these pages.

Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey

★★★★★★★★★★ (8/10)

As much as I have loved this book in the past, I love it in different ways now, as well as severely dislike parts of it I hadn’t noticed before.  Anne McCaffrey is one of the great world builders of fantasy fiction.  The planet of Pern is so detailed and thought out, that one could imagine it to be a real place, and all the characters based on historical persons. Part of this is undoubtedly because McCaffrey was so prolific with her Pern novels, but it is easy to fall into the beauty and social interactions that she develops even within the first novel.  

After the first read, I was enchanted with the level of sophistication of the society on Pern.  There was a distinct hierarchy, but McCaffrey finds characters who are able to break through barriers and triumph under the most desperate circumstances.  Lessa, for instance, goes from being an orphaned girl working as household labor, to being one of the most powerful people on the planet through a combination of determination, luck, and pride.  Jaxom, a young man being groomed as a Lord Holder (something like a governor, but more directly involved with the people he is responsible for), creates a potentially hopeless situation at a young age, grows up in a loving but oddly affectionless home, and through his ability to carry on regardless of his chances, helped turn the tide of knowledge and opened an unknown part of the world.  Granted, these are extraordinary circumstances, people, and places, even for the series, but somehow, they fit and make Dragonriders that much more enjoyable.

I believe that I first read this book (a collection of three novels really) probably when I was in early high school.  I hadn’t learned much about literary criticism or cared about what made a good novel.  I also hadn’t taken any classes that delved into feminism or gender hierarchy, so I found Dragonriders to be unbelievably fantastic.  It’s only after finishing my degree and gaining a better understanding of the socio-politic nature of humans, and a better understanding of my own beliefs, that I now have problems dealing with certain aspects of the culture McCaffrey created on Pern.

Issue 1: Pern is a horrendously male-dominated planet.  Women are constantly subjugated and forced to do as their fathers, brothers, or leaders bid them.  This idea rankles simply on the basis that it is a situation that used to exist in our own world, but is something that modern society has worked hard to end.  In a different part of the series, Menolly is another example of how rigid and strict the male-female dichotomy can be. It is also apparent that women are married off at their family members discretion, regardless of the girl’s or woman’s own desires.  For instance, Lord Groghe was said to have wanted Jaxom to have married one of his daughters, whether Jaxom or the daughter were interested or not. In Dragonflight, Lessa, who lived at the mercy of cruel estate managers, triumphed over them only to now take orders from dragonriders (almost all men) who may or may not know what kind of instruction and help she might need.   She could not ride her dragon, take up some traditional responsibilities, or go anywhere outside the Weyr.  When reading this section, I got the impression that she was under some sort of house arrest.

On the subject of dragons, women are only allowed to bond to female queen dragons, even though there are four other colors.  Men are the privileged ones who may bond with green (also female dragons, which is odd), blue, brown, and bronze dragons, and only bronze dragon riders can take the leadership of a Weyr (where the dragons live).  Mirrim becomes an exception to the rule, but not after a great deal of argument against it.  

Issue 2: The hierarchy of the planet itself.  My initial impression was that Pern was a lot like feudal Europe, without worldwide rulers, but with dragons.  It was intriguing, until I began to notice the living circumstances differences, as well as how the upper classes treated the lower.  Again, this was something that I picked up after I started to take classes specifically about class distinction and discrimination.  The Lord Holders, Craftmasters, and Weyrleaders basically were at the top of the hierarchical food chain and could do practically anything they wished. Craftmasters tended to be conservative in their actions, but Lord Holders and Weyrleaders (even other dragonriders) had the capacity to be greedy, cruel, and overreaching.  

There are several examples in Dragonquest and The White Dragon, and a good number of them involve “Oldtimer” riders and the older generation of Holders, who would believe that their greed was within their own rights.  Most everyone else on Pern was subject to the orders and whims of these powerful people. Some leaders were kinder and more understanding that others.  Some examples of the better ones would be Fandarel, Robinton, F’lar, D’ram, N’ton, and Asgenar.  Some examples of the worst of the greedy and power-hungry would be Fax, Meron, T’ron, T’kul, Kylara, and Mardra.  The latter list cared nothing for the people around them, the ones they protected, or the ones who cared about them. (How anyone could care about Fax or Meron, I’ll never know.)

Issue 3: (Not a real issue, but one to be wary of when reading an early edition): TYPOS.  There are so many times in the edition of The Dragonriders of Pern that I have where it’s not only typos, but characters are misnamed, or renamed, or mistakes with places, objects, crafts, circumstances are carelessly made.  I could probably point out over 75 such errors in this collection.  That’s about 70 too many for my taste.  One such error that really made my brain cry was the replacement of the name T’ton in Dragonflight with T’ron in the subsequent novels.  This made no sense whatsoever and I could only attribute it to the author changing her mind, or some typist having freakishly odd dyslexic and forgetful typing errors.

In spite of these personal issues of mine (which is exactly what they are, personal), these three novels make up one great adventure and successfully explore human (or Pernese) relationships as well as what happens when a civilization has to start from scratch.  It’s interesting to read about what McCaffrey thinks would happen if a group of humans had to leave Earth to live somewhere else, and how they would adapt to that situation.  Dragonflight, Dragonquest, and The White Dragon encompass a delightfully emotional romp through a fantasy world that, once you get past the obvious gender and social issues, might become a favorite on your bookshelf.

The Scandal of the Season - Sophie Gee

★★★★★★★★★★ (9/10)

I love this book. Period. The Scandal of the Season is one of my absolute favorites because it combines two aspects of literature that are a lot of fun: Restoration-period plays and Alexander Pope. Sophie Gee took one of Alexander Pope most famous poems, “The Rape of the Lock,” that she rightly says is on every undergraduate’s English syllabus, and gave it back to audiences as a historical fiction to explain the story behind the poem.

I remember reading “The Rape of the Lock” and being thrown off by the title. I didn’t expect it to be a satire, because that wasn’t what I had come to expect from Pope. It was nice to be able to laugh my head off while I did my homework. In The Scandal of the Season, the plot goes back and forth between characters Arabella Fermor and Alexander Pope. The novel starts off with introducing Pope as a young man. Gee gives a little of his history and explains why he is different, since it is his differences that put him into the situations throughout the novel. It was quite a different experience to read a piece of fiction that uses a famous poet, who I’ve studied and written about as a character in a novel. I loved seeing what another scholar thought Pope’s young life would be like. I saw Pope’s hopes, fears, loves, hates, dream, and ambitions unfold as the novel goes on.

Apart from the feeling I get from reading about Pope and seeing the story behind his poem come to life, I am emotionally drawn to dynamics between Arabella Fermor and Lord Petre. This is where the Restoration plays come into the fold. There is an element of humor in their relationship, but there’s also an element of tragedy that is common in plays after the Restoration. I want the handsome, cavalier, nonchalant Lord Petre to win over the chaste, haughty, confident Arabella Fermor, who is determined to marry well, like other girls in her position. Luckily for me, I get to read the thoughts and perspectives of both parties. There’s a darker plot behind Lord Petre, but it doesn’t interfere too much with the romance between himself and Arabella. However, I really think that Arabella’s downfall is the fact that she doesn’t take her own family circumstances into accounts. She believes that her beauty and charm will get her everything that she wants, but society in 1712 did not work that way.

The novel does have a tendency to be a little too much like a romance novel at times, but the plot, character depth, and my interest in the subject overcome any problems I have with the romance scenes. Then again, it’s nice to read about people doing what they’re not supposed to, for once. Unlike period novels, both written during the period and more recently, where it’s important to maintain society manners and reputations, this novel takes the part of what some men and women would do for love. There’s emotion here that is lacking in other novels that take place in 18th century England – everything that takes place in England for the most part.

I don’t want to give too much away, because a good part of the fun of this novel is discovering the surprises that come along. Still, I think Sophie Gee found the perfect blend of love, history, literature, and life in The Scandal of the Season.

A Lion Among Men - Gregory Maguire

★★★★★★★★★★ (4/10)

Wicked. A glorious piece of prose-turned-Broadway musical. A twist on the traditional (albeit Frank L. Baum’s version) belief that the creepy green woman avenging her sister is evil incarnate looking for trouble. Wicked was one of the most interesting books I have ever read, and when I have enough money, I want to try to purchase a first edition. As to Maguire’s other books… I think the word, or guttural comment, that best suits my thoughts so far is “eh.”

I can’t remember if I’ve read Son of a Witch, which probably means that I haven’t, so I can’t pass judgment on it just yet. I did read a non-Wicked novel, Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, and I was thoroughly repulsed. It was the first book I borrowed from the San Diego County Library, and I think that event deterred me from going back to that particular branch for months afterward. If I find a copy of that, I’ll really say what I thought about it.

A Lion Among Men. I started this book with hope. I loved Wicked, so I thought that, since it was the same story world, this book must have some merit. I wanted to like it. Perhaps I was swayed by remembering that the Lion was not my favorite character. He always seemed to blend into the background of Oz for me, but I wanted to find out what Maguire thought of him. The Lion is one of those characters who doesn’t get much detail. For instance, you wonder: why is he cowardly? Why the ribbons? How does he really fit into the story?

I have no questions about what happened, which is something in Maguire’s favor, yet I feel that something was missing. Every event is well-detailed, vivid, imaginative, but I closed the book wanting more. I’m not sure what I wanted, but I was not particularly satisfied. Part of my grievance has to do with the structure of the book. The majority of it is told in a flashback-ridden interview. Flashbacks are all well and good here and there, but there are not meant to hold up an entire novel. The way that Maguire penned this novel made everything easy to follow and complete, but I was frustrated that the plot was going nowhere fast. The story was moving, but it seemed to take forever for a point to be made, or an episode to conclude.

Overall, I didn’t like the Lion, named Brrr. He was rather annoying, and that’s something I’d never thought about him before. There was a little too much Lion-dwelling-on-the-past. Brrr spends so much time feeling sorry for himself, that it gets a little boring after a while. He has every reason to feel sorry for himself, since Maguire paints him as being doomed to being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong people around to see it. I would only ask that some of his self-pity be removed to make way for the important parts of his life. I almost felt that his regret overshadowed the events that led to his continual reputation as cowardly.

I have to admit, though, that I absolutely loved Yackle. She was a character that I was immediately in tune with for some odd reason. She was pitiable, but she would not let you pity her under any circumstance. Yackle is a character who could be some off-target role model in some ways: she brooks no lies, says what she feels is true, and knows what she wants (even if all she wants throughout the novel is to die and be done with it). I never really knew what to expect from her. She was the surprise and excitement that kept me reading until the very last page. The only event that really shocked me about her was how she became blind; Maguire seems content to let me assume that it was old age, so that he can drop a bomb like this one. Her story is just as fascinating, if not more, than the Brrr’s. I would have to say more at this point.

I can’t say that I was entirely disappointed with A Lion Among Men, only that I feel that it could have been better, and it could have been worse. The glass cat was a surprise, but I won’t be in any hurry to read it again, which I will eventually. My last thought is to wonder whether or not there will be another novel to add to the Wicked series, since Maguire seems to have left either obvious and hopeful hints of things to come, or a Lion’s share of promises that won’t be kept.

The Great Game - Michael Kurland

★★★★★★★★★★ (6/10)

I’m not really sure what to make of The Great Game. It has more plots than I like to keep track of, but at least it makes sense without too much deep thinking. After reading the summary on the back of the novel, along with the subtitle of “A Professor Moriarty Novel,” I thought it would be almost exclusively from the viewpoint of Moriarty. Instead, I got very little from the professor until the last half of the novel, and, even then, there are so many characters involved, that Moriarty is just one of an assembled group instead of the star.

Even the title of the novel really has nothing to do with Moriarty. The “Game” involves a young man who eventually needs Moriarty’s help, but unlike the title of Sherlock Holmes stories (“The Case of …”, or something of the like), The Great Game starts off by immediately misleading me into thinking that Moriarty was a player in whatever the game would turn out to be. I mostly understand that the entire purpose of Kurland’s Moriarty novels is to give a wholly new perspective on who the “Napoleon of Crime” may or may not have been meant to be. I expected a criminal mystery, and that is what I received, but I was hoping that Kurland would keep more to the mystery part, and maybe not make it so easy to know how it all would end.

I believe that overall there are eight major characters that make up four distinct, yet connected plots. They are all related to the “game,” but I was annoyed that Kurland needed so many detailed plots to carry out a mystery novel. I felt as though the set up took a great deal longer than it ought to, and by the time the set up was over, I already knew who the villain was and what the general ending would be. I have always thought that the key to a good mystery was to keep readers guessing until the very last page. There should be hints everywhere, but the correct connections of those hints should be known only to the author. And, The Great Game is a mystery novel, just as Doyle’s stories were all good mysteries. This is probably why I was not terribly impressed with Kurland’s novel.

On the other hand, I very much appreciated Kurland’s inclusion of the languages of Europe. Since the novel took place in multiple locations (England, Italy, Austria, and maybe some others), I was glad to see that the languages of these various places were fittingly included in the dialogues between characters who spoke different languages. There’s a charming little scene where Barnett is trying to pay an Italian working on a barge to bring some cushions, and Barnett spoke no Italian, and the Italian man spoke no English. It highlighted the necessity for world travelers to have at least a little knowledge of the language of the country they intend to visit. I enjoyed the descriptions of the end-of-the-century Europe and the hints of crime-fighting technology to come, too. It’s interesting to read about why fingerprints are useful, and to see that in the late 1800s, no one really know that fingerprints are as unique as the people who have them.

I also think that Kurland was spot on with the characters of Holmes, Watson, and Moriarty, perhaps even improved upon them. Moriarty is as brilliant as usual, but I actually got to see the workings of his mind from his own point of view. Holmes, while a little paranoid about Moriarty that can only be expected, is a (mostly) rational, methodical, logical being with a penchant for wanting to always be right. Watson is just the same as I remember: a little bit dense for a man of the medical field, but as stolid a friend as could be hoped for.

I have convinced myself that, at some point, I should read another of Kurland’s Moriarty novels, because maybe The Great Game just didn’t agree with me. In general, I think you cannot discredit an author on the basis of having read one book. There are exceptions, but I will try to keep an open mind, since an open mind can mean a lot more joyful and pleasurable reading in the future. Good luck to Mr. Kurland at our next meeting!

The King in the Window - Adam Gopnik

★★★★★★★★★★ (6/10)

This book puts me in mind of A Wrinkle in Time. It involved complicated science and a weird sort of time travel, but this time, it’s partially in French. The King in the Window follows the story of a twelve year old boy who gets tangled in a centuries-old war between mirrors and windows. It’s a well thought out story, but I would recommend it for readers between ages 8 and 12.

I got this book at a clearance sale, and I assumed that it was just a book out of the fiction section. After reading the first chapter, I realized that I was wrong. While I do think that Mr. Gopnik is a good writer, this novel is perfect for someone who’s just starting to really love chapter books. It’s difficult to write about this novel because I would like to complain about the fact that Gopnik explains more than is necessary, but then I remember that this was meant for children, who might need those explanations. As the book takes place in Paris, there are a few words in French, so it makes sense that their English equivalents are put in, and because it’s written in English, Gopnik explains some turns of phrase that young readers may not understand, such as the way the word “save” can mean “except.”

Other than this, The King in the Window is a rather charming novel. It explores a child’s relationship with his parents, how a child deals with his first crush, how to build confidence, and how to let your imagination take over and help you accomplish the most difficult tasks. It gives a brief lesson in French history, while making me laugh at how that lesson is learned. I also liked how there are hints from the very beginning that tie into the solutions at the end. Gopnik was very clever about the structure of his story. After getting over the feeling that I was too old for this book, it was very enjoyable.

I can't think of anything else to say about, either good or bad.  It's a fine novel and, if you have young readers, this would be a good way to keep them interested in books.

The Hero and the Crown - Robin McKinley

★★★★★★★★★★ (Somewhere between 6/10 and 7/10)

This book is one of those strange reminders that books do change.  The words are always the same, the number of pages stays the same, and the events are the same, but each time I read a book I’ve read before, I find something different, or it makes me think something new about it.  I last read The Hero and the Crown maybe four or five years ago.  Until I read it this time, I had considered it a very good novel and always meant to go back and read it again.  This time, my mind is a little torn about what to say about this book.  The story is the same, but this book reminds me that I’ve changed.

The plot in this book is simply fantastic; I’ve always thought so and still do this time around.  Aerin is a brilliant character, and would be an admirable, if unrealistic, role model.  She had such strength without being strong, intelligence without being brainy, courage without pride.  Aerin just keeps surprising me with every turn of the page.  Yet, she’s not alone.  Her trusty sidekick is an old broken-down horse with a bad leg, Talat.  I’m a sucker for novels where animals are important to the story, and this one just hit home. (Later Aerin gets an army of wild dogs and cats. Yay!) Talat is almost as incredible as Aerin herself.  He went from being a horse that everyone had given up on, to the prideful stallion he was in his younger days, despite his weak leg.  He found strength where there ought to have been none, and courage where no other horse would be brave.  Just two bold characters waiting for an adventure!

Where I get a little iffy about The Hero and the Crown is in the pace.  When I read is this time, I felt like the story kept jumping around from place to place, and time to time.  There’s a flashback that takes multiple chapters to finish; there are episodes that are so short, I wondered why they were there at all; and the end just seems to drag on a bit.  Just when I thought it was done, I turned the page and there’s another two chapters.  Normally, this would be awesome, since I usually hate for books to end, but here, I felt it was done, and was a little surprised when I found that I was wrong. 

The two events that bothered me the most were Aerin’s two big battles.  The first with Maur started off with promise: she was practically running headlong into a battle even she believed she would not survive, and she had no one to help her but her horse.  Maybe I expected too much, but I thought there would be a longer battle scene with more triumph on Aerin’s side.  In reality, it was very brief, and Aerin won by sheer luck and willpower.  Even Aerin’s attitude became depressing at one point.  She basically gives up and still keeps fighting; Talat has more hope than she does and he’s running towards a huge dragon!  This battle does serve a purpose, as it is necessary later in the story, but I wish it had been as I remembered it.

I had a similar problem with Aerin’s battle with Agsded.  This one seemed to be over before it even began, and, again, she won by sheer luck.  She had no idea how to defeat him, and a last ditch effort with no thought behind it saved the day.  I would have liked some more detail about the time issues involved, and a little more banter between the fighters, but I just assume that to McKinley, this battle was not as important as the results of it.

In the end, everything that I expected to happen happened, because I remembered that it did, and I was satisfied overall.  It’s just these little details that I had forgotten that irked me more than I liked.  I still like The Hero and the Crown, so Robin McKinley wins another round.

O, Juliet - Robin Maxwell

★★★★★★★★★★ (8/10)

If Shakespeare needed an update, it was found in O, Juliet by Robin Maxwell. She took Romeo and Juliet and brought it to a new generation. Not only does it follow the play’s outline, O, Juliet fills in the gaps of what happened behind the scenes, as well as adds some humanity to Shakespeare’s characters. His Juliet was beautiful and loving, but Maxwell gives us a clue as to how she really felt about her life and some insights into the culture of the time.

It didn’t hit me until about halfway through the novel that the setting was wrong. The original play takes place in Verona, but Maxwell decides to place her novel in Florence. Her decision makes a lot of sense after I thought about it. She introduces the Medici, who would have no place in Verona, and they are essential to her plot. Juliet’s best friend is about to become a Medici, and the Medici family are key to the peace between the warring families. Florence is also appropriate because it was the center of the Italian Renaissance, which explains Juliet’s education and views on life. I especially love the details that Maxwell includes about daily life, the status of women, and the secret nightlife of the city. She is very even about it: she tells about the wealthy as well as the poor. Well, somewhat. I’m sure that the depiction of Viola and Massimo is exaggerated to make their lives seem happy and easy.
Maxwell also does an excellent job of giving you both sides of the story. She tells more of Juliet’s side, but Romeo gets his say. Shakespeare’s is very much told from the position of an outsider who heard everything and wrote a play about it. In O, Juliet, Romeo and Juliet tell their feelings as they happen. I could feel Juliet’s heart beating faster as Romeo came to her balcony. I could sense Romeo’s joy at being with his family again. I sympathized with the despair both felt at Juliet’s proposed marriage to her father’s business partner.

I knew a bit about what was expected of women from wealthy families, but Maxwell really brought to light the horrors that some women faced to help their families. One woman was practically forced to marry a man who treated her badly, and since she had to live with his family, she was ill-treated by her mother-in-law, and there was nothing she could do about her situation. Once a woman married, her family could not really help her. She was expected to have children and endure her treatment, and hope that things would get better with time. Juliet faced the same fate if she could not be with Romeo, and it would have been a much more heart-breaking tale if she had been subjected to a man like Jacopo Strozzi.

This novel was entirely enjoyable, but it was painful to read only because I knew the ending already. Romeo and Juliet had to die. That’s just the way it ends. It’s history. However, that did not keep me from holding out hope that somehow Maxwell would find a way to keep them alive and send them to live out their happily-ever-after in some faraway place. Every page turned brought me closer to the tragic ending that I knew was coming, but when it did come, it was strangely joyful and perfect. It wasn’t nearly as depressing as Shakespeare’s original, and that made me wonder if I was reading the novel wrong. Maybe I was putting in words that weren’t there, so I read the last few chapters again, and it came out to the same ending. And still, I didn’t cry like I do for Romeo and Juliet; I wasn’t upset; I didn’t toss the book away wishing it had ended differently. I liked it. I liked that they died because it was poetic, just as their romance had been.

O, Juliet will now have a special place on my bookshelf, and now I might want to reread Shakespeare’s play to see if I can find any shadow of the passion, emotion, and love that appeared in Maxwell’s novel. Again, I’m going to have to find more from this author.

Except the Queen - Jane Yolen and Midori Snyder

★★★★★★★★★★ (2/10)

This book was disappointing at best. I like the Jane Yolen books I’ve read in the past, so maybe my expectations were a little too high, but Except the Queen just bored me to tears. There were no characters that really caught my attention, no detail, and the plot was so bare-bones that it took me longer than it should have to read. I kept stopping because it was so difficult to get into the story, and there were so many things that were just vague images that never cleared up. There are also chapters where you have no idea whose perspective you are seeing, and it seems to add nothing to the plot.

I was expecting something with the emotional intensity of The Pit Dragon Trilogy or the wonderful storytelling of Sword of the Rightful King, but I got none of these. I almost wonder if the collaboration between Yolen and Snyder is what made the novel so uninteresting. Other collaborative works that I’ve read have turned out pretty well, and followed a similar format, where the main characters write letters to each other in addition to writing directly to the reader about what’s happening to them.

The characters were not fleshed out at all. There are two fairies who are cast out of the Greenwood, and they seem to dwell on that fact. Eventually, they begin to see that there was a good reason for it, but it seems like the authors are so preoccupied in showing how the fairy sisters react to human world objects, like magic brownies, than the emotions that go along with those discoveries. It’s obvious how someone would react to completely foreign objects and customs, so more attention should have been given to who these women are and why they act as they do. There are snippets of information about their pasts, but nothing to add to the superficial image that comes across throughout the novel.

There are also a young girl and boy, each found by one of the fairy sisters. The two young ones both have problems that involve both the human and fairy world, but their problems are so vague. The girl, Sparrow, first appears to be a smoking, drinking mess who drowns her problems instead of facing them. I found out later that her problems went deeper than that, but her story did not make me involved. I didn’t really care about her, as I should have if Yolen and Snyder had taken more time and care in her character. The boy, Robin, was even more frustrating because for the longest time, there was no description of him! I wasn’t sure if he was a dog, a human, some weird combination of the two, or invisible. He only existed in my mind as a personality, not a substantial being.

Everything felt very haphazard, like the authors just took an idea and ran with it without refining it and thinking about the motivations of all of the characters. I believe that the authors did take time to write this as well as they could, but their collaboration probably held them back and allowed them to produce a simply mediocre novel. For example, there is a quote for which I’m not sure if I should blame the authors or their editors: “They each wore a voluminous black ankle-length dress that reached to their ankles…” If they were ankle-length dresses, should I expect them to reach to the ground, or their knees, or be miniskirts? That’s unfortunately the most memorable part of the book because someone overlooked such a simple error.

I’m not giving up on Jane Yolen, and I even might try to find something written by Midori Snyder, but this novel makes me wary of any books I may find in the future that is a collaboration of two writers. I would not recommend this book and I’m glad that I got it on clearance.

The Queen's Mistake - Diane Haeger

★★★★★★★★★★ (7/10)

The Queen’s Mistake is a fictional account of Catharine Howard’s life with King Henry VIII, but what I like best about it is that the author did a lot of research to keep it as historically accurate as possible. All of the dates and historical events are correct, and it’s nice to read an interesting novel where so much care was taken to be correct. It’s almost like a pleasant hidden history lesson.

I have to admit that prior to reading The Queen’s Mistake, I knew very little about Catharine Howard other than that she was Henry VIII’s fifth wife and that she was beheaded. I knew nothing about the circumstances regarding her relationship with the king, her private life, nor the events leading up to her execution. Nevertheless, I have usually found the stories about one of England’s most memorable king remarkably fascinating. When I was younger, I would read about the things Henry VIII accomplished, and then be shocked by the horrible things that happened in his life and during his reign. It’s simply a wonder that a queen like Elizabeth I could have a father as bizarre as Henry VIII, but it makes sense when he’s remembered by the cruelty he was capable of, while she is remembered for the great things she did for religion, the arts, and education.

As to the novel as a work of literature, it was immensely satisfying. I was immediately drawn in by the portrayal of Catherine’s unhappy home life. She lost both parents and was supported by a grandmother who seemed more likely to kill Catherine than show the any kindly emotion toward her. In a situation like this, it’s no wonder that a strong girl like Catherine would choose to rebel and do whatever it was that her grandmother would forbid. What was sad about her life is that she was always a pawn no matter who took care of her. As a woman with the Howard name in the 1500s, she was expected to marry well regardless of her own personal feelings on the matter. She probably thought that being tossed into her grandmother’s care, she had been forgotten about and was free to live her life as she chose. Unfortunately, she became, like her cousin Anne Boleyn, a tool to her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, to improve his own position.

Catherine, however, was just a girl like any other and prone to the emotions and feelings any girl of her age would be. She was interested in love and happiness, and if money happened to be included, it was all the better. She liked having power, which would be one reason for her death, but it didn’t consume her as it did her family. Still, the novel was very emotional: one chapter could leave me feeling elated and hopeful for her happiness, even though in the back of my mind, I already knew what had to happen to her. In another chapter, the reality of her situation sunk in and it was thoroughly depressing that she would have to give up what she wanted. The worst of it was the novel made it seem that she did have a choice, but ultimately chose power over love. The passions and emotional turmoil that characterize this novel are what make Catherine Howard’s tragic story one that I just couldn’t put down.

The Queen’s Mistake is a fantastic historical novel. The history is perfect, the emotional pull is strong, and the characters are deep, complicated, and engrossing. Diane Haeger is now firmly on my list of authors I want to read more from.

Rose Daughter - Robin McKinley

★★★★★★★★★★ (5/10)

Robin McKinley, Day 2!

I thought Rose Daughter would be a good follow up to Beauty since it's McKinley's second shot at "Beauty and the Beast."  According to the book description, this one was written 20 years after Beauty. McKinley had 20 years to think about how to revamp the fairy tale and her own novel, and it shows.

Still, I have issues with Rose Daughter.  It is more cleverly written, which is highly enjoyable.  It feels more like it's written for adults who love fairy tales, rather than teenagers who are still children.  The roses also still play a very important role, and the family undergoes the same financial ruin.  I love that the sister's are much stronger characters.  They are modern women doing things for themselves instead of being taken care of by the men in their lives, as they were in Beauty.  These girls build and create and get dirty! Their father is much weaker, giving the sisters an opportunity to be strong and independent, but they all still depend on each other.  Their relationships strengthen and evolve a great deal after they move to the country.  

There are also parts of the novel where it just becomes difficult to follow.  It's harder than normal to imagine what the palace of the Beast looks like; it's almost as if the physical appearance of the castle changes, not just the inside of it.  Either that or McKinley can't decide what it really looks like in her own mind.  The only thing that is consistent about the palace is the glass house.  Obviously, this is because it's supposed to be this way.  Beauty even comments on the fact that it's the only thing she sees that never looks any different.  However, it's more than the fact that the castle's interior changes.  I have issues with the way McKinley describes what Beauty sees when she looks outside.  Beauty seems to think what she views from her windows stays the same, but I don't get that feeling from reading the descriptions. 

There are simply some things though that feel like she just had writer's block and tossed in some easy backups.  One of these is the introduction of the unicorns.  They just pop in with no warning and serve no purpose.  The old woman that Beauty meets calls the unicorns her "moon- and starlight friends," but nothing ever explains their reason for being there.  They are brought in so abruptly that I had to stop reading for a few minutes to get over the slight shock of finding imaginary creatures in such a novel about mere magic.  At one point, the unicorns save Beauty's life, but anything from within the spell could have easily done the same thing.  The unicorns aren't part of the Beast's imprisonment, so it did not make any sense to put them in the novel.  If McKinley had a good reason for them, I still haven't figured out what it is.  Unicorns are more useful in stories meant for small children,  unless they are the focus of the book, such as in Bruce Coville's Unicorn Chronicles series.

On a brighter note, the characters are enough to make this novel a credit to McKinley's writing skills, but, as I said before, this is just a part of the virtues and disappointments that go along with loving Robin McKinley as an author.

Beauty: A retelling of Beauty and the Beast - Robin McKinley

★★★★★★★★★★ (8/10)

I'm going to start a long rant (at least 5 books' worth) about the virtues and disappointments of Robin McKinley.  To me, this woman is the queen of fairy tales retold.  It's always a treat to read her novels and relive the twists she adds to classic stories of my childhood.

I've got to start somewhere, so I begin with one of my favorites - Beauty.  "Beauty and the Beast" is one of the fairy tales I've most enjoyed over the years, and never tire of hearing it told in new and different ways.  When I found this version, I was thrilled and finished it so quickly that I was a little upset that it was over so soon.  After the first read through, I was reminded of an old Jean Cocteau film, "La Belle et La Bête" that had a lot in common with McKinley's story, and this immediately caught my attention, making me want to finish the book that much more quickly.
McKinley weaves a tale that, while short in comparison to what could have been included, is so enrapturing,  that I can't image any fairy tale lover being able to not be in love with it.  It is simple in the way it's written, but it is full of emotion, danger, love, and, as with any good tale, a happy ending.  Beauty (for once!) is not actually beautiful.  This was the first thing that drew me into the novel because it changed a good portion of the setup.  Like most, I was used to being introduced to the Beauty character as if she were one of the most beautiful young women ever dreamed: a simple, kind girl with gorgeous looks that attracted people from miles around.  It was highly refreshing to encounter a girl where "Beauty" was actually a childhood nickname that stuck around.  Beauty's family was also a little different: she had two sister's who weren't absolute terrors.  Usually, the theme of wicked stepsisters comes in when the heroine has female siblings, but McKinley makes them helpful and kind from start to finish.

I was also interested in the way McKinley described the enchantment.  Unlike Disney's version, there's more to the Beast's imprisonment that meets the eye.  Instead of being explained at the beginning, McKinley pieces together the particulars of the spell, bit by bit.  It's is a spell of revenge, but the Beast is not necessarily the one who caused the original offense. It's also interesting that McKinley's Beast has been under the enchantment for over 200 years!   This was wholly unexpected, but it made more sense as the story wore on.
The roses were another interesting facet to this retelling.  Roses are important in every version of "Beauty and the Beast," but they are brought in very sweetly here.  They are lovingly described and it's easy to see the array of colors, smell the richness, and be awed by the simple wonders of them.  They are necessary to the story because they link the Beast to the outside world, but they also symbolize his humanity in a way that is completely heartbreaking.
Overall, Beauty is a good choice for a quick weekend read, and a must for fairy tale lovers!

Books of Pellinor - Alison Croggon

★★★★★★★★★★  9/10

Wow! Let's just start with that.

The Books of Pellinor - The Naming, The Riddle, The Crow, and The Singing, written by Australian author Alison Croggon, are a series of four novels all revolving around a young woman named Maerad. While the story follows the traditional fantasy format (where one person is destined to save her world from the evil clutches of a terrible villain), the characters that Croggon creates are so unbelievably detailed, that it's almost possible to put together each character's entire life story from birth up to the end of the series. This is probably the major highlight of each book.

Maerad herself is one of the most complicated and involving characters I've encountered in a very long time. She is both alluring and terrifying, but her struggle to simply be herself is what I found to be the most captivating part of the series. In The Naming, Croggon introduces Maerad as a slave girl destined for greatness, but Maerad is also a bundle of contradictions. She is only about sixteen, but she is experienced beyond her years due to the horrific life she has led under slavery. She is mentally strong, but lacks the friendship and love that is necessary to lead a sane life. It's slightly difficult to believe that such a girl could exist in such conditions without having gone mad or having given in to the horrors surrounding her daily life.

As the series goes on, she becomes more conflicted and develops a deepness of character that seems to mark Croggon's work in this series. Maerad is special even among those with whom she travels. She is destined to save her world, but with that destiny brings both damaging consequences and joyous triumphs. The conflict that dominates her fears and is one that follows her constantly is whether she is of the Light or of the Dark. This is common to most fiction: the fight between good and evil, but here, it's more difficult for Maerad and her companions to figure out. She wants the simple pleasures that she never had as a slave, such as good food, a nice place to live, kind and loving people around her, but part of her yearns for something else, something more like power. She battles within herself to be true to what she believes is right: to be a keeper of the Light, the Knowing, and to be good the people she loves.

Yet, she is so twisted in her upbringing that she does not understand almost anything that

comes easily to others, such as kindness, love, sharing, and charity.

The third book, The Crow, threw me the most.  Instead of Maerad being the absolute focus, as she had been for the last two books, this one is told in respect to Maerad's brother, Hem.  Croggon just leaves off with Maerad's portion of the story and delves into Hem's tale once the two of them part ways.  I did not understand why Croggon did this until more than halfway through The Crow.  She sends in a twist to the story that changes the every dynamic put forth through the first two books.  She changes the original prophecies, increases Hem's importance to Maerad's quest, and even makes me doubt Maerad as a heroine.  Originally, Maerad finding Hem seemed to be a way to boost Maerad's confidence in herself by giving her back something she had lost; Hem was a way to solidify her resolve in bringing an end to the troubles facing her world.  However, the third book changes that and adds more flavor to the whole tale. This book made me very sad, though, because it is always a little painful to think of children facing such horrors and demands as Hem does.  His entire world is torn apart for what seems to be the fourth time in his short life, and his woeful life does not seem like it will improve until Maerad cures the world of the evil that threatens them all.

The only drawbacks that I feel detract from these wonderful books are the similarities to other fantasy novels, both recent and classic. One of these similarities is the presence of "The Nameless One." On first reading about this character, I was struck with the thought of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter books. They are both evil people, men to be exact, who want nothing less than the total domination of the world at the expense of everyone and anyone but themselves. While they each have a real name in the books, the characters generally refuse to use that name, opting instead for a ridiculous pseudonym. There are definite differences between why the villains are named the way they are: Voldemort is "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" because characters are afraid that his name is cursed and will put them in danger; "The Nameless One" actually does refer to the fact that this person has given up one of his names in exchange for power, which is a dangerous thing to do in the Pellinor series. By the end of the books, this was an easy thing to overlook, but I believe that Croggon could have been a little more creative with her villain.

Another similarity is simply that Croggon followed the safe, easy, unwavering fantasy adventure format that has been around since Tolkien. One character is chosen, fated, or destined to be the salvation of life as they know it, and they have friends who help them along the way, but in the end, after much suffering, pain, and learning, they have to triumph alone. There were no new twists to the format, although the events in the book were highly unpredictable (Croggon never failed to keep you on your toes!), and I was just a little disappointed that yet another author could not let go of the safe way of writing.

All in all, this series is a complete winner in my mind. I will definitely treasure this series as one of the most provoking tales and one of the most captivating I have read. I look forward to reading more from Alison Croggon, should she decide to write other novels in the future.