Tuesday, September 30, 2014
The 8th Annual Canadian Book Challenge - September Roundup (Sticky Post— Scroll down for most recent post)
1. Click on the icon above
2. Add a link to your review. (Please link to your specific review, not an entire webpage.)
3. Add your name and in parentheses the title of the book, such as John Mutford (Anne of Avonlea)
4. In the comment section below, tell me your grand total so far. (ex. "This brings me up to 1/13")
Thursday, September 18, 2014
I found it difficult and oddly offensive. For one, the perspective kept changing. Third person omniscient perspective never sits well with me, but when it even changes without warning one paragraph to the next, I'm confused. For the other, I found the portrayal of small townsfolk to be like someone trying to suggest that there's "something poignant in their stupid words." The problem, clearly, is that this do-gooder attitude rests on an air of condescension. Characters all talk like they've experienced some brain-damaging trauma and yet also in vague and weirdly angular thoughts, so that a reader might suspect they've actually been profound.
Furthermore, the whole "deep" message of the book, that you hook the darkness when you catch the light, is lost when there's too much focus on the darkness. It's also no more high-fallootin' an idea than a certain sitcom theme song, "you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and then you have, the Facts of Life..."
In the afterword at the end, F. T. Flahiff discusses the trouble Watson had finding a publisher and an early negative review. While the reviewer got some of the facts wrong, I think s/he was nonetheless accurate by calling the book "difficult" (which may have led to him/her getting some details incorrect) and "permeated by an odd atmosphere of unreality."
Monday, September 15, 2014
So why do those of us living in relative comfort obsess over such things? The obvious answer is that we are afraid of losing those comforts, but that doesn't explain the "fun" factor. Given the success of apocalyptic books, movies, and so on, I know I'm not the only one. Clearly we're all naive, but I thing a larger part of the answer lies in the fact that it provides a distraction from the mundane and/or personal stressors of life. Who needs to worry about a 13% increase in their electricity bills when the world is about to end? Global concerns are so much more exciting. We can pretend to be concerned about that stuff because deep down we know the likelihood is still pretty slim.
In Sofi Papamarko's "The Pollinators" a dinner table conversation about such lighthearted fare becomes a bit of a cautionary tale about neglecting the smaller issues, leading to the death of much smaller, but no less significant worlds. The tension that underlies this story is brilliant and the release, while not fun at all, is just as explosive as an Ebola outbreak.
by Shawn Caza
Sunday, September 14, 2014
My hat's off to the publishers who saw the potential in Black's script. About a girl who tries her best to convince a potato (yes, a potato), that she's anything but boring, I could have perhaps foreseen potential to have irreverent humour and strong themes of imagination, but the text is so minimal I think I'd have either rejected it outright or else sent Black back with instructions to flesh out the story more. Both would have been a mistake. The secret, as the publisher knew, was finding the right illustrator to capture it's simplistic, fun spirit and add a little in the process. With Ohi, the book strikes the perfect balance in a picture book and the result is more than the sum of its parts.
Scraggly and basic, Ohi's cartooning is nonetheless stylish, inventive, and expressive. She also adds to the story with muted blue pastels expressing the imagination of the girl with more detail than provided by Black's text. The end result is charming and amusing package.
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Ghosts? Perhaps I should summarize the plot. Friends with Boys is about a teenage girl named Maggie who is going to high school for the first time. It can be a daunting time for anyone, but made even more terrifying by the fact that she doesn't exactly have a lot of public school experience: until recently her mother had home-schooled her. Fortunately her older brothers are there and she quickly makes friends with another brother-sister team, Alistair and Lucy, who are quite nice and seem to go against the grain from the majority of kids at the school. And, as promised there's also a ghost. Though Maggie has seen the ghost of a woman since her childhood, it ramps up its appearances seemingly without provocation and becomes a more full-fledged haunting. Maggie enlists her friends and her brothers to help.
Put that way, it sounds like a Scooby-Doo episode and doesn't really do the book justice. The book, to me, wasn't as much about the ghost as it was relationships, forgiveness, being oneself, and "having each other's back." That's not to say the ghost is irrelevant either, but its role is... complicated. At the end, I think I know what purpose it served to the plot (Maggie's mother walked out on the family and Maggie seems to project her confusion onto the ghost, the ghost helps unite the characters) but that was Hicks' motives; just what the ghost's motives were more illusive.
It's creepy sometimes, more often touching, but it'd be a disservice not to also point out how hilarious Friends with Boys sometimes is as well.
The artwork is also great. Character-wise, I found it similar to Brian O'Malley's Scott Pilgrim with the large, expressive eyes. But the setting and artistic story-telling are quite different. There's one scene for instance, where Maggie is leaving the house and her various positions along the path are shown in a single panel. It's different from the norm, though I have noticed the approach becoming more common in graphic novels. I think it works best in small doses and when it's purposeful; in Friends with Boys it captures Maggie's springy pace, complimenting her attitude in that scene and felt like I was being invited along for the walk. Hicks has also done some amazing things with the lighting. Just check out the very first page:
Note how she not only sets the time of day, but also the mood. That final panel is suddenly so much brighter, like the obscene abruptness of an alarm clock, and even the lettering has changed colour (and position) signifying the forceful passage form night into day.
I look forward to reading more of Hicks' work!
*I also considered the title Home's Ghouled, but it's too punny even for me.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
I have long been a fan of Lemire's work, so I was excited to see what he would do with sci-fi. Trillium is set partially in outer space in the year 3797, when the entire human race has been reduced to about 4000 people, and on Earth in 1921. Nika, a female in the future, is in search of trillium plants, which hopefully hold a much needed cure. She finds them by the score in front of a temple, but they are guarded by a mysterious alien race. William, a male from the past is searching for the Lost Temple of the Incans. The temples house a time/space passage. William and Nika meet and eventually in love. Their love is not without complication, however. Their histories wind up switching, creating alternate universes— neither of which are pleasant.
I love how experimental Lemire was with this book. Besides the sci-fi, which involves time travel, artificial intelligence, outer space, and even a small dose of steam punk, Lemire's done such a good job with the romance genre, that I'd almost go as far as saying I'd classify the book as a romance first.
And the artwork is just crazy; at one point you even have to flip the book over to read a concurrent story.
A small complaint with the first comic (chapter) is with the amount of dialogue. I've always loved Lemire's ability to tell so much without words, but with such a convoluted set-up this time, there's much told through somewhat awkward dialogue or thoughts. Perhaps a Star Wars-esque scroll would have served to let readers know what the deal was. In any event, once that's out of the way the story gets well underway and I was enraptured in the lives of Nika and William.
Tuesday, September 09, 2014
To make matters worse, I enjoyed it! Told from the perspective of one Jacob Jankoski, a 93 year old man now in a retirement home, recounting his days in a traveling circus— memories sparked by the announcement that a circus is being set up next door to the home. Set during the Great Depression, the overarching theme seems to one of luck; when it's bad luck, persevere and be patient for the good luck (should it ever come).
Jacob is flawed, but not so much that he ever becomes unlikeable and most of the other characters are believably complex, even Rosie the Elephant. The settings are fascinating (I was as interested in the retirement home as the circus). And the love story is beautiful. Occasionally, it's predictable (Jacob is forced to be roommates with a little person, who first appears to resent Jacob's presence, but of course they eventually become friends) and while I was content with the ending of the flashback, the wrap-up of the present day frame story felt more implausible and forced. Still, these are minor complaints and honestly, I looked forward to reading it.
(This was the first time I borrowed an eBook from the local public library and the experience was great. I'd definitely do it again. Do you or have you borrowed eBooks before?)