a monster calls

A couple of years ago, I went on a dystopian reading bender (snaps to Rhiannon for that craze), and I was most impressed by Patrick Ness’ The Knife of Never Letting Go. It was raw and amazing, and I resolved to keep an eye out for Ness’ books. Last summer I started hearing trickles of praise for his latest release, A Monster Calls. Then Kiersten White wrote about how much she loved and cried over it. I placed it on hold at my local library and that was that.

An unflinching, darkly funny, and deeply moving story of a boy, his seriously ill mother, and an unexpected monstrous visitor.

At seven minutes past midnight, thirteen-year-old Conor wakes to find a monster outside his bedroom window. But it isn't the monster Conor's been expecting – he's been expecting the one from his nightmare, the nightmare he's had nearly every night since his mother started her treatments. The monster in his backyard is different. It's ancient. And wild. And it wants something from Conor. Something terrible and dangerous. It wants the truth. From the final idea of award-winning author Siobhan Dowd – whose premature death from cancer prevented her from writing it herself – Patrick Ness has spun a haunting and darkly funny novel of mischief, loss, and monsters both real and imagined.

Patrick Ness has a talent for pulling emotion out of the most reluctant reader. He writes stories that reach the hidden thoughts we all carry with us. It’s unsettling, it’s beautiful, and you end up wrecked and happy and feeling as though you SURVIVED. In A Monster Calls, Ness stays true to form (and delivers a masterpiece).

I’ve discovered that I enjoy Ness’ books when I go into them blind. You don’t need to know in advance what the main conflict is in order to enjoy it. So my usual summary is brief: Conor meets a monster, and it shows him true things. True, terrible, unthinkable things – about himself, and stories, and the sometimes unbearable road of life.

Of course, the beauty of the hardcover volume (delightful presentation might be my weakness) does not hurt. A Monster Calls is filled with fantastic illustrations by Jim Kay, all done in black and white and focused on texture and shadow. Add in the jacket and endpapers, along with the content, and it may be THE perfect gift book. I’d even put out on a coffee table for people to admire.

To recap, A Monster Calls is bitter, sweet, and lovely on the inside and out. It may (probably will) touch your soul.

Recommended for: anyone with a heartbeat. It is beyond excellent.

rot & ruin

Zombie novels. You’ve heard about them (many on this very blog!). They’re taking a bite out of the competition. SORRY! I had to do it – the jokes are just there, waiting to be told. But seriously, what has brought them out of the relative obscurity of horror (again, no offense meant), and plopped them into mainstream young adult literature, one of the fastest growing markets in publishing?

I think that part of the answer is that a good zombie story asks big questions, questions that everyone ponders when they realize that life isn’t simple, sweet or easy. What is humanity? What is the difference between a monster and a hero? What defines right, and what is evil? And what, if anything, can one person do to make the world a better place?

In the zombie-infested, post-apocalyptic America where Benny Imura lives, every teenager must find a job by the time they turn fifteen or get their rations cut in half. Benny doesn't want to apprentice as a zombie hunter with his boring older brother Tom, but he has no choice. He expects a tedious job whacking zoms for cash, but what he gets is a vocation that will teach him what it means to be human.

Benny Imura is an angry, unhappy, and fairly typical teen living behind a fence – a fence that fends off the zombie apocalypse. If it sounds crazy, it is a bit, but Jonathan Maberry brings the world of Rot & Ruin into immediate and vivid focus, and the reader is sucked into a tragic reality that makes a scary amount of sense. But in this story, nothing is as it seems, especially Benny’s brother Tom.

I think of this novel in terms of emotion. When we meet Benny, he is consumed by hatred. As his story progresses, he feels horror, disgust, despair, remorse, hope, and love – not necessarily in that order. It is a journey into adulthood, a loss of innocence, and a revelation of both the best and worse of humanity – and an ultimate adventure and survival story. It is gripping and important reading.

I want to tell you a little something about my reaction to this book, in case you’re not sure you want to delve into something bleak and zombified. It took me a year to start reading Rot & Ruin. It got fantastic reviews from people I trusted, but I still wasn’t sure I wanted to go deep into an apocalyptic setting. But I started it, and I was struck by the anger, genuine anger in Benny’s psyche that bleeds through the writing. And THEN my dad stole my paperback while he and my mom were visiting. He was so engrossed that I knew it wasn’t just me – this was a special book. And after that, it was just a matter of finding time to finish the story.

Recommended for: fans of coming-of-age sagas and Patrick Ness’ The Knife of Never Letting Go, readers of all generations, guys and girls, zombie and apocalypse enthusiasts, and anyone who has wondered if they have the capacity for the extraordinary inside themselves.

delirium

If you are looking for the best thing since sliced bread, try making yourself a grilled cheese sandwich. Or if you don’t do dairy, perhaps a hummus pita bread hybrid. But, you know, don’t count on Delirium. That’s not to say it’s drivel or that it won’t be passionately loved by someone out there. It will. Probably several someones, actually. But it’s just not, you know, whipped cream in a can. Which is pretty much one of the best inventions ever, for obvious reasons.

Before scientists found the cure, people thought love was a good thing. They didn’t understand that one love -the deliria- blooms in your blood, there is no escaping its hold. Things are different now. Scientists are able to eradicate love, and the government demands that all citizens receive the cure upon turning eighteen. Lena Holway has always looked forward to the day when she’ll be cured. A life without love is a life without pain: safe, measured, predictable, and happy.

But with ninety-five days left until her treatment, Lena does the unthinkable: She falls in love.

To succeed with me, a dystopian (or any genre, really) novel must have a couple of key elements: a character or two that I absolutely fall in love with, a certain level of trust in/for the world they live in, and a tense or mysterious unveiling of events. I can give or take one element if you hand me beautiful writing on a platter. But you must want an example! Here, I have one all ready: The Knife of Never Letting Go.

Todd (main character in aforementioned novel) is young, but he’s already been through a lot. For most of the book he is confused, but he’s 100% about doing the right thing. Or what he thinks is the right thing. And when he gets it wrong, his guilt is palpable. You literally HAVE to feel for him. I didn’t understand his whole society/world at first, but the gradual reveal was both sinister and awesome. I never once ‘popped out’ of the story and told myself it was unrealistic. And as for the plot: nonstop action, danger, tension. No space for doubt or disbelief. Now, go read that book!

Delirium disappointed me on all three counts. 1) I never invested in any one character. Although all of them have some redeeming qualities, I didn’t see enough change, growth, or any really deep human emotions to cause me to root for someone. I saw some ugliness, I saw awful memories, and I saw bad friendship. I did not find a connection with anyone because of those. The most interesting characters (to me) were the ones not present: Lena’s mother and sister. The ones with the most face time didn’t exactly change my world.

2) This dystopian-thing. I may just be a born skeptic, but I didn’t buy it. There were a couple of creepy people dedicated to the cause and keeping order. Not so much actual violence. But the main problem: even though love is a powerful emotion, it is not the ONLY emotion. And the world that Oliver painted was definitely grayscale without love. I am not convinced that society would have worked the way it was described given the parameters the author laid out. I found myself putting the book down to ponder what would have made it more believable, and to analyze which elements rang false.

And finally, 3) the plot. It’s a slow starter, but that in and of itself isn’t always a bad thing. I will admit to reading Delirium compulsively up until page 120, about which time I realized that nothing spectacular was going to jump out and grab me. It’s not that nothing happens. It’s just that I knew what was going to happen. I felt let down.

Now, lest you get all up in my face and say that this is/was/will be your favorite book ever, and I’m a horrible person for hating it, let’s review. I may be a horrible person. But I did not say that I hated the book. Just that it disappointed me. And every reason I used to substantiate that claim was an opinion and personal experience thing. This book can work for you, you can love it, and we can still be friends. I’m just not joining the fan club.

My question coming out of this: can you be spoiled for dystopian novels? Because this one read like Uglies to me. Uglies for girls who wouldn’t usually touch dystopian lit. I begin to wonder if I’ve read so much end-of-the-world goodness that I won’t find anything new under the sun. If that’s the case, I’m very sad.

Also sad? This snippet of text:

“He left me a note. He left me a note. For me. The idea – the fact of it, the fact that he even noticed and thought about me for more than one second – is huge and overwhelming, makes my legs go tingly and my hands feel numb.” -page 142 (ARC, subject to change)

Let’s hope it gets cut from the final version. That’s all. Really.

Are you still looking forward to Delirium?

Delirium releases February 1, 2011 from HarperTeen. I received a review copy through Traveling ARC Tours. Delirium also counts for the 2010 Dystopia Reading Challenge.

finished: young adult dystopian reading challenge

This last year I took part in the YA Dystopian Reading Challenge put on by Bart’s Bookshelf. It went from October to December, and the object was to read four books that answered the description in the challenge title (young adult + dystopian. also, reading.). As it’s now January, I thought I’d do a ‘wrap-up’ post and tie all those ends up neatly. True confession: I actually only read three books. *gasp* You can click on the links below to go to my reviews.

The Knife of Never Letting Go

Unwind

Skinned

Never fear! There will be plenty of continuing YA & dystopian content here in the coming months. Sometimes even in the same stories! The dystopian/post-apocalyptic titles I plan to get to in 2010 include: Restoring Harmony, The Road, Genesis, How I Live Now, Life As We Knew It, The Ask and the Answer, Monsters of Men, The Dead-Tossed Waves, The Island at the End of the World, the last Hunger Games novel, Inside Out and Tomorrow, When the War Began. I’ll probably add one or two more, and save a couple for another time. But 2010 should be dystopia-wonderful!

letting go of the knife

It’s time to announce the winner of The Knife of Never Letting Go. Patrick Ness’ novel is a dystopian tale that takes readers to the edge with gripping suspense and mystery, and forces devotion to its characters through heart-breaking revelations and decisions. Without further ado, the winner is:

Dominique

from Coffee Stained Pages

Who answered the question, “What’s one dystopian novel you’ve read (or would like to read)?” with:

“I think my favourite dystopian novel is The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. I've also read The Giver by Lois Lowry, Nineteen Eighty Four by George Orwell, Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro.

I want to read The Knife of Never Letting Go after reading your review, it sounds great!” Congrats, Dominique!

Other dystopian (or post-apocalyptic, or whatever-you-want-to-label-them-but-damn-they’re-scary!) novels mentioned: Swan Song by Robert McCammon, The Hunger Games and Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins, In A Perfect World by Laura Kasischke, The Road by Cormac McCarthy, Unwind by Neal Shusterman, Alas Babylon by Pat Frank, The Running Man by Stephen King, Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, Perdido Street Station by China Mieville, The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan, Uglies by Scott Westerfeld, How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff, Oryx and Crake and The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood, The Maze Runner by James Dashner, and The Lord of the Flies and Animal Farm by Orwell.

Happy reading, everyone!

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.