color me skinned

For Teen Dystopia Week and the YA Dystopian Reading Challenge, I’ve been doing a lot of dystopia in a little time. And here’s the downside: I wouldn’t recommend it as a reading program to anyone. For the generally happy (yes, that means YOU), I say space out these reads – they’re heavy emotional fare, and more than a little mood-altering. If I hadn’t made a commitment to get a certain number done during the week, you can bet your right hand (or whatever body part you like to bet…maybe your left eyelid, for instance?) that I’d be interspersing them with lots of romance and high fantasy.

It’s not that they’re not awesome. Because for the most part they are. It’s just that I find equilibrium in my real life AND my reading life when I go by that old proverb ‘everything in moderation.’ Actually, I’m pretty sure humanity could avoid the apocalypse and a dystopian future if they stuck to that rule. Not to get all philosophical or, you know, serious.

So back to the topic at hand: Robin Wasserman’s novel Skinned. I have to get this off my chest. I’ve been spoiled for life. Spoiled by The Hunger Games, 1984, The Giver, The Knife of Never Letting Go, and even Unwind and Uglies in their own way. All of these are examples of truly magnificent (or at least entertaining and heart-stopping) dystopian literature. Books to make you agonize, and think, and question the rules of the world, and at the end sit back and acknowledge that the author has brought characters to life, made you care about them, made you feel their pain, and made you INVEST in the horrible reality of their worlds.

With Skinned I couldn’t quite take the leap. I was impressed by the premise – when I read the description I could imagine many disturbing, wonderful ways to take the story. What I ended up feeling was incomprehension and disconnection.

Lia Kahn was perfect: rich, beautiful, popular -- until the accident that nearly killed her. Now she has been downloaded into a new body that only looks human. Lia will never feel pain again, she will never age, and she can't ever truly die. But she is also rejected by her friends, betrayed by her boyfriend, and alienated from her old life.

Forced to the fringes of society, Lia joins others like her. But they are looked at as freaks. They are hated...and feared. They are everything but human, and according to most people, this is the ultimate crime -- for which they must pay the ultimate price.

Part of the problem is that the description seems misleading. If I had to try the reading experience over, I’d go in completely blind, without expecting anything – and certainly not a dystopian tale or a society turns against the machines story like the blurb suggests. Because this is a character-driven novel, lived mostly inside one girl’s head. Naturally, it’s rather self-absorbed (ha ha). And partly because I expect what I’m offered in a book jacket description, I had a dissatisfying reading experience.

I could probably write another couple thousand words on why I’m not happy and why I want my time back. But I’m not going to. First of all, those words belong to NaNoWriMo (come find me – I’m ‘celialarsen’). And second of all, I gather that this is the first in the series. You know what? Skinned’s description probably (hopefully) fits the overall story arc to a T. And third of all, different strokes for different folks. I know that somewhere out there, this is someone’s favorite book of all time. It fell flat for me, but it might change someone else’s world. I can respect that.

NOTE: For an in-depth look at the issues in Skinned, with emphasis on series potential, check out The Book Smugglers' review.

If you’ve read Skinned (and especially if you had a strong reaction to it – love or hate), please hit me up in the comments. I’d love to know your thoughts!

unraveling this dystopia thing

There’s something extremely powerful about a well-written dystopian tale. The apocalypse has happened or been averted, but only at the price of society’s freedoms. These tales show us the possible effects of extreme control, horrors perpetrated in the name of peace, and a glimpse into a world where extremists get to answer the ultimate ‘what-if’ scenarios. The result is often absolutely terrifying. And it makes for some gripping, un-put-downable fiction.

Unwind was just such a novel. A frightening future has resulted in state-endorsed “unwinding” for society’s unwanted teens – harvesting of every body part (obviously resulting in their deaths – though the final effects are debated by the novel’s characters). How do those teens facing ‘unwinding’ act? That’s the central premise of Unwind. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s segue into the product description.

In a society where unwanted teens are salvaged for their body parts, three runaways fight the system that would "unwind" them.

Connor's parents want to be rid of him because he's a troublemaker. Risa has no parents and is being unwound to cut orphanage costs. Lev's unwinding has been planned since his birth, as part of his family's strict religion. Brought together by chance, and kept together by desperation, these three unlikely companions make a harrowing cross-country journey, knowing their lives hang in the balance. If they can survive until their eighteenth birthday, they can't be harmed -- but when every piece of them, from their hands to their hearts, are wanted by a world gone mad, eighteen seems far, far away.

In Unwind, Neal Shusterman challenges readers' ideas about life -- not just where life begins, and where it ends, but what it truly means to be alive.

I heard about Unwind through the blogging community. It was praised, it was sort-of reviled, but everyone seemed to be talking about it. Then, when I had it sitting at the bottom of a pile of library books in my bedroom, my sister (who teaches 9th grade English) came out of the bookstore with a stack of books, including Unwind. Our conversation:

Me: “I just got that book out of the library! Wow – why’d you buy it?” Her: “Well, I asked the saleslady for a scary YA novel. We’re doing a unit on scary short stories, and I wanted something to lend to my kids.” Me: “Darn. This means I have to read it now.” Her: “Uh, yeah. Bet I finish it before you!”

And of course she did. Then I read it. And we conferred. Turns out we had very different reactions. She’s listing it now as one of her favorite novels. I’m…not sure what to think. Mr. Shusterman’s story certainly sucked me in and kept me in a constant state of fear and wonder. Does that mean it was good? I don’t know. It certainly means SOMETHING. I was bothered by a few things, though, and they resulted in the following questions.

In a society that takes ultimate advantage of helpless teenagers, how fast do you think those teenagers would trust adults? When two of three main characters seem like they were just tacked onto the story, how do you praise characterization of the one who does seem central and interesting? What sort of world would destroy and usurp the rights of kids who’ve reached the so-called ‘age of reason?’

I know that the first and last question fall into the ‘suspend disbelief’ category. And the middle one…that’s partially a matter of personal opinion. I don’t like to give away anything about a story that you can’t read in the description, so my review is necessarily shallow, and I can’t give concrete examples of these problems. But suffice it to say that while this book made me cringe and think and REACT, I’m not sure I liked it. I’m not sure it’s ‘good.’ I just don’t know. And I think you should read it yourself, make up your mind, and tell me. Because it’s worth the time investment, and I can guarantee a fierce (yes, I said fierce!) read. Good luck!

sinister reading

Since finishing the book two nights ago, I’ve been trying to think of a perfect adjective to describe Patrick Ness’ The Knife of Never Letting Go. I eventually settled on sinister. I don’t know if that’s the final word, but it works. But perhaps I should introduce you to the book jacket description first?

Todd Hewitt is the last boy in Prentisstown.

But Prentisstown isn't like other towns. Everyone can hear everyone else's thoughts in a constant, overwhelming, never-ending Noise. There is no privacy. There are no secrets.

Or are there?

Just one month away from the birthday that will make him a man, Todd unexpectedly stumbles upon a spot of complete silence.

Which is impossible.

Prentisstown has been lying to him.

And now he's going to have to run...

This menacing masterpiece has won several awards, and after reading it, I can see why. Ness is a genius at controlling the story and the audience. He’s set up the perfect mystery, and unravels it with painstaking skill and unmatched expertise. The tale he tells is intelligent, brutal, scary, and a glimpse into the shadows of the human soul. It’s also a coming-of-age and journey tale, punctuated by very brief rays of life and hope and redemption, before the reader is plunged again into the dark. And perhaps I should stress that it’s the first in a series? There’s more where that came from. I have no idea where Ness will take the story next, but I am equally afraid and excited to find out. I can only imagine that he’ll stretch the characters even farther than they think they can bear, and wring out us readers along the way.

This reading experience was hard. It was painful. And it was completely worth it. I feel as drained and as impressed now as I did after reading The Hunger Games for the first time. In a very different way, certainly. Ness’ work is probably darker on a whole. But if you’re interested in reading really great fiction, by an absolute master, and want to get a feeling about what this ‘dystopian’ thing is all about, I recommend The Knife of Never Letting Go. Or maybe you’re a fan of clever and realistic horror? This will fit the bill, too.

And if you think I’m being vague and talking in circles, well – I am! I can’t in good conscience say anything more about the plot or the characters. If you want the mystery solved, you’ll have to read it as I did, and take step by perilous step into the fantastic world of The Knife of Never Letting Go. Enjoy!

NOTE: If you're desperate to know a bit more about the story or to check out someone else's whole-hearted recommendation, please see Rhiannon's review or Aimee's loving rant. I trust their book sense, and everything they say, I'd say (if I was half as eloquent). Except I don't like to give away much (read: anything), so you've been warned.

suck me in, chew me up and spit me out

Mandy at edge of seventeen is hosting a Dystopian Teen Week over at her blog, starting today (well, it started this morning, but I’m a little late to the party…), and going until November 4. She’ll feature several Young Adult titles within the ‘dystopian’ genre, host giveaways, and talk to a couple authors, too! It’ll be fun. End-of-the-world, do-or-die kind of fun, in keeping with the thematic content, of course.

This is also happening in conjunction with the YA Dystopian Reading Challenge over at Bart’s Bookshelf. I am hereby accepting the challenge. After all, I can get all four items finished this week! Bart has a great round-up of reads in the genre in this post (make sure you check the comments, too!).

Now that I’ve declared that I’m participating, I should probably explain. According to ReadWriteThink (via eoseventeen), a dystopia is:

A futuristic, imagined universe in which oppressive societal control and the illusion of a perfect society are maintained through corporate, bureaucratic, technological, moral, or totalitarian control. Dystopias, through an exaggerated worst-case scenario, make a criticism about a current trend, societal norm, or political system.

It’s more than the opposite of utopia, which is what I thought when I saw the word for the first time. And it’s more than a post-apocalyptic scenario. It’s organized craziness.

So why the heck am I interested in it? This is the girl who likes silly and funny and happy. I refer you to the title of this post. I may prefer silly, funny, happy…but when I read serious, seemingly hopeless, heart-rending dystopian novels (and I can’t help but do – they’re some of the best out there, and I’ll read ANYthing once), I truly feel. They get me. It’s liquid tragedy, gorgeous misery, and it seems REAL. I can imagine any of these things happening. I believe that there’s darkness in the hearts of men. Mostly, though, they make me cry. I know it’s a good book when I’m crying.

Okay, so I cry. What are these books? Have I been sneaking them in while you weren’t looking? Well… a couple. But not intentionally, I swear. Dystopian novels I may have mentioned on this blog: The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Uglies, and The Forest of Hands and Teeth. Others I’ll read (and review, hopefully) this week: The Knife of Never Letting Go, Unwind, Genesis and Skinned. So get ready. It may be a little grim in parts, but there’ll be reviews and maybe a contest or two to keep you going. Enjoy, but do it seriously. *smile*