|
|
 Celia’s parents are superheroes, but she has never been anything more than normal. Eking out a standard existence on a single salary, renting her own apartment, taking the bus to work; this is Celia West’s life. Her parents Captain Olympus and Spark keep the city safe, while operating a huge and successful business, but never seemed to have enough time for their daughter. When it was discovered who they were, Celia’s life was guaranteed to be abnormal, but she does her best. Unfortunately, when danger erupts in the city, it’s Celia who has the power to understand what’s going on and, ultimately, prove that regular humans can accomplish just as much as those granted special powers.
This is another Read-a-thon choice and in that context it was a fun, easy choice of read. Superheroes are everywhere these days, and the concept of a normal person getting mixed up in the fray isn’t really strange either, so it’s pretty easy to determine whether or not this book is a choice that will appeal to you. It tries at times to deal with more complex issues, but given that Celia is behind her teenage-rebel days, I think it actually mostly fails at this – she comes off as whiny rather than strong, even when she’s actually the one going behind the scenes to make things happen. I didn’t actually dislike her in the present day, but I definitely would have if this were a YA novel and she was carrying out some of the behavior she did in her younger years.
The other bizarre part of the book for me was the romance, which I felt came out of left field. I had a certain character pegged as an older mentor, only to find out he’s actually a romantic interest, which just didn’t work. I can see how it would work sometimes, but here I just wasn’t feel any sort of spark between them. Overall, disappointing for someone who actually likes romance on the side.
Still, the superhero world was interesting, and I certainly found After the Golden Age captivating enough to read it over a couple of hours straight during the Read-a-thon. I’d recommend it for a bit of fun and for a fast read, but not for a memorable one.
All book links to external sites are affiliate links. I received this book for free for review from Amazon Vine.
 A Touch of Dead is a collection of Sookie Stackhouse stories from in between various novels of the series. This means they (and this review) contain spoilers for those who haven’t read the books. Since it’s an incredibly short book at less than 200 pages long, this is definitely going to fall in mini review territory, but I thought it would be appropriate for Halloween!
These are all really short stories. So short that I probably would have felt cheated if I’d bought this in hardcover – there just isn’t very much there, unlike most collections of novellas. The margins and font were both huge, so each story sped by in just a few minutes. It was a great choice for the Read-a-thon, though, because I felt I’d accomplished a lot and the stories were very easy reads.
The introduction fortunately gives us a timeline for the stories, explaining where each fits into the overall canon. I’m almost up to date on the series, so none of them spoiled anything for me, though they may for others who are not quite as far in the series. We get to discover how Sookie discovered her cousin Hadley was dead, for example, which I remember confusing me when I first read that particular book in the series. We also get to see Eric ridiculously excited over the possibility of Dracula coming to Fangtasia, which was a light-hearted change. We even get to witness Sookie’s grandfather’s idea of a Christmas gift.
These stories are a nice way to dip into the Sookie universe without getting involved in a complete book, but I’d probably only recommend them for those who are already fans. Otherwise, you’ll get spoiled for the series, and I find it unlikely that you would enjoy them as much as someone who is already versed in the world would.
 On Christmas Eve, 1800, three men conspire to assassinate Napoleon as he rides by on his way to the theatre. The plot is foiled and Napoleon lives to rule another day – but it’s up to Chief Inspector Roch Miquel to find the culprits. Under pressure from his boss, the famous Minister of Police Fouche, Roch has to weed fact from fiction on a heart-stopping deadline even as the lives of the ones he loves the most are at stake.
This was my first Read-a-thon choice, which generally means I sped through it and actually won’t have much long-term memory of the book. Still: a few impressions that will hopefully guide the curious into deciding whether or not they would choose to read it themselves.
First of all, this is actually a perfect historical fiction read for the Read-a-thon. It’s nicely short, so it can be finished in a speedy amount of time, and the story has enough tension and mystery to help keep those pages turning even later at night, I suspect. Roch is under a lot of pressure as the story progresses, and I really do mean a lot, with his loved ones carted off to jail and his professional expertise called into question even when he doesn’t deserve it.
The story is split between several different viewpoints, although they vary when they appear and generally Roch’s search drives the plot. The beginning of the book is brilliant – I felt immediately drawn into Napoleonic Paris’s dirty streets, fully aware of the hustle and bustle around the Emperor’s path as people jostled to see him. Then, the aftermath of the explosion, which didn’t kill him but did affect many others, was an excellent way to draw readers into the story and keep them wondering about these strange men who so clearly want to kill Napoleon. Not that many people didn’t want to kill Napoleon – but it becomes immediately personal.
Surprisingly, the book even manages to squeeze in a little bit of romance amongst all of this investigating, and some treachery too. It’s very well-rounded with quite a lot going on. I’d definitely recommend For the King as a fast yet absorbing and atmospheric historical read.
All book links to external sites are affiliate links. I bought this book.
 The Bauers are a prosperous, middle class family living in Czechoslovakia. They are patriotic, they celebrate Christmas, and while they’ve suffered their fair share of joys and sorrows, they don’t consider themselves too different from their neighbors. Unfortunately, they are Jews, and even if they haven’t practiced their religion seriously for years, that makes their lives impossibly difficult once the Nazis occupy the Sudetenland. Marta, their son Pepik’s nanny, has no idea what her background is, but her fate is inextricably tied with the Bauers’. It is little Pepik who has far to go, as the family weighs carefully their plan to put him in the Kindertransport system and send him to Great Britain, where they hope he will be free of the Nazi grasp forever.
This novel is presented in three different intertwining parts. The first is the past, the story of the Bauers told through Marta’s voice. The second is in the present, told by an unknown woman seeking a sibling. And the last is a series of letters which are related to the story’s characters and slowly reveal to us their fates as we go along. (The book is about Jews in the area we all know Hitler expanded into in World War II – we know what will happen to at least some of the characters). This was an excellent method for me of telling the story. It added a degree of uncertainty to the past segments, which feels frighteningly straightforward as far as these books go, and had me very curious about the outcome. I did find it a little bit disconcerting to switch around so quickly at the beginning of the book, but I got used to the alternate viewpoints quickly.
One of the most fascinating facets of the book for me was its thoughts on memory. How different was our childhood actually from the way we recall it? How much have we modified history within our own heads? This is so interesting because, as I grow older, I’m often wondering if everything happened as I thought it did. And, in the novel, this of course brings up the question of identity – who are we if we’ve misremembered our past? Without a past, how can we have a future? The book handles this in terms of individuals, but the question works on a much wider scale, especially given the period that this book is about and the essential remembrances we all must take from the Holocaust.
Anyway, I was really surprised by how much I got wrapped up in this book and how much it made me think. Within just a few pages – it’s a short book, roughly 300 pages in my version but with huge font and margins – I grew incredibly attached to some of the characters and interested in their well-being, particularly Marta and Pepik.
In those short chapters, the book conveys so very much – about motherhood, about prejudice, about human nature – that I’d find it impossible not to recommend. Combined with a compelling story, Far to Go is a fantastic choice for anyone interested in the Holocaust. You may start out thinking it’s just another World War II book, but I recommend you let it prove you wrong.
All book links to external sites are affiliate links. I received this book for free for review from Amazon Vine.
 Diminutive Mercy Lavinia Bump, just 32 inches tall, has never been content with her life as a girl in the country. Even when she’s appointed a teacher despite her size, she longs for more. So when her “cousin” arrives offering to put her on display for her singing talents – in reality to exhibit her in a circus – she actually jumps at the chance to escape and see the world. Little does she expect the fame and devastation that will come of her choices when she meets P.T. Barnum and becomes one of the most famous “little people” in the world.
I read a book designed for younger readers about Tom Thumb earlier this year and ever since then I’ve been fascinated by these people, who were clearly exploited but who also seem to have had a role in their own exploitation. After hearing boatloads of praise for Melanie Benjamin after Alice I Have Been, a book I still unfortunately haven’t read, I knew that this was one I really needed to get to. I’m very glad that it lived up to my high hopes and provided the story of a woman who simultaneously takes advantage of her size to get what she wants even as she hates that she is reduced to it; a fascinating practical person who sees the world through very clear eyes, most of the time.
After all, Vinnie, as she’s known to her friends, seems to have very distinctly made her own choices in real life, as she does in this book, and they were at least partly inspired by her desire to see more of the world. She may not have expected to be as exploited as she was, but here she is given a clear opportunity to go home and live out her life, probably as a childless spinster. Is it any surprise that she does take the chance, even if it means exploitation? It’s a fascinating thought process.
I have to admit that I didn’t like Vinnie throughout the entire book. At times, I think she actually makes the same mistake looking at others as she does when others look at her. She looks at her husband and doesn’t see that he’s a person, too; instead she measures his faults and pushes him aside. When she looks at her sister, she can’t see anything but her baby sister, smaller even than she is, even though Minnie is probably one of the strongest characters in the book. Vinnie is a stubborn woman and even as she frustrated me, I appreciated the roundedness of her character, and the fact that she really doesn’t let her size stop her from achieving her dreams.
The Autobiography of Mrs. Tom Thumb is the perfect choice for those who enjoy historical fiction, particularly about the complicated world of circus-style shows in the nineteenth century, and is certainly recommended by me. I look forward to reading Benjamin’s first book and any others she has planned.
All book links to external sites are affiliate links. I received this book for free for review from Amazon Vine.
 I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that Consuelo Vanderbilt Balsan was my hypothetical first historical fiction subject, and before I went anywhere I thought I’d best read what she herself wrote about her life. After all, there are only gaps to fill if the actual woman herself didn’t write about every last detail, and the best source for someone’s life is themselves. Luckily, I found lots of gaps to fill, but I also was pleased to discover that Consuelo is as fascinating as I’d hoped.
Married off at just eighteen to the duke of Marlborough, Consuelo left everything she knew behind to join the British aristocracy – her American money funding the upkeep of Blenheim Palace and the lifestyle of the wealthy. In exchange, however, Consuelo was desperately unhappy, as her mother had forced her to leave behind the man she loved in order to make her daughter a duchess. A fascinating account of turn-of-the-century life, Consuelo’s struggle to find the happiness she deserved is inspiring and well-worth reading.
While there are certainly emotional gaps here – the author shares very very little about either of her marriages, surely topics she didn’t really want to share, nor does she discuss her children – this is a full picture of a life. Consuelo makes reference to the many famous people she met and hosted, some which are recognizable and others which are not, and gives us a really full account of life that people of her social class lived at the time. The first part of the book, when she is forced to leave New York even though she has an agreement with a certain Mr. X, is by far the most moving and interesting – afterwards she gets swept up in a social swirl and there is much less drama mentioned. I suspect she didn’t want to dwell on an unhappy marriage, so instead moves smoothly past to a world in which she has more control, even if it’s a bit less interesting.
One of my favorite aspects of this book, as with many others set around this time, is the fact that it’s set in an essentially dying world. After World War I, English aristocracy starts to crumble apart, and World War II changed Europe forever. Consuelo lived through both of these and it’s just fascinating to read about the divide in time. Cultures are eternally in flux, but those moments which we can later pick out as defining – a before and an after – are always those which make for the best reading. That is certainly the case here; the book ends just at the start of World War II, so we’re witnessing many changes.
As I expected, Consuelo Vanderbilt Balsan was a fascinating woman, and her story – so aptly titled The Glitter and the Gold – is one which should certainly be read more widely. Highly recommended.
All book links to external sites are affiliate links. I bought this book.
 Jacquetta of Luxembourg is a woman who, according to Philippa Gregory, history has neglected, mainly for lack of information; married first to the Duke of Bedford and then rather scandalously to Richard Woodville, a commoner, Jacquetta was an observer of many of the most important events during the Wars of the Roses, indeed outliving most of the primary players. Her daughter Elizabeth married the English king Edward IV, catapulting her family even more into the spotlight than ever before.
We start off with Jacquetta as a young girl, where she meets Joan of Arc and learns first-hand what can happen to a woman in English hands who is accused of being a witch. Joan, obviously, had a lot more behind her death sentence than supposed witchcraft, but if that’s what they used to have her killed, it’s a threat to a girl who was supposedly descended from Melusina as well. At this stage, however, Jacquetta and the Duke of Bedford get married, and as it turns out, Bedford is only interested in her because she is a virgin and is supposed to have magical powers. Meanwhile, while trying desperately to see the future, Jacquetta is also busy falling in love with her husband’s squire.
While I actually liked both Jacquetta and Richard, and I enjoyed the alternate perspective on the Woodvilles, portraying them as not grasping social climbers but people, there were still too many flaws with this book for me to enjoy it thoroughly. Jacquetta’s constant foreboding and feelings about the future hindered the book and made her a much flatter character; she knew what was coming too often to have an authentic reaction when these things actually happened.
This also contributed to the massive slowdown in the middle of the book. Jacquetta alternates between court and having babies, and while I know having children should be a joyful experience, I really got bored here. Nothing else actually happens to Jacquetta, and the entire war happens outside of her purview. Her husband gets sent off, and then her son, and she frets about their safety, what feels like over and over again. Since I knew what happened to Richard Woodville, as will many people who’ve read anything else about the Wars of the Roses, this got old fast.
Honestly, part of the reason for this is that Jacquetta just isn’t a compelling enough character on her own, for me, to have a fantastic novel written about her. She would have worked much better as an alternate narrator paired with someone on the sidelines than having a book all to herself. There is too much telling and not enough first-hand witnessing. The beginning was interesting, especially the witchcraft element with Joan of Arc and Eleanor Cobham, but the book loses speed after that and peters out to an ultimately disappointing, though predictable, ending.
Philippa Gregory fans will probably want to add The Lady of the Rivers to their collection, but personally I much preferred both earlier books in this series and would recommend in particular The White Queen.
All book links to external sites are affiliate links. I received this book for free from the publisher.
 Sir Mark Turner is the nineteenth century’s version of a rock star; he’s written a book about chastity that has spawned not only his own fan club but also has inspired legions of women to decide to take his virginity. It doesn’t hurt that he’s stunning, of course. Jessica Fairleigh is a courtesan who wants nothing more than to retire, and she sees seducing Mark as her way out. Securing his virginity will earn her the money she needs to get away from London and live quietly in the country for the rest of her life, even if she has to set aside her remaining morals to do it.
What a fabulous book this was. I read the entire book on a train to London, and I can tell you it was more than a little embarrassing when tears came to my eyes as I was standing in a crowded coach with a bunch of businessmen. I’m still hoping they didn’t notice, but that should give you an indication of how wonderful this book really was. My heart broke again and again for Jessica, who truly has been unfairly treated by life and the people in her life.
And Mark’s stance on chastity may have been slightly anachronistic, but I adored it. Mainly this is because he turns the question of chastity back on the men, just as we still need to today. Mark is well aware of the sexual double standard and, rather than deciding that women should be treated the same as men, he decides that men should be treated the same as women. In other words, chaste until marriage, which I think actually makes more sense for this time period. Lust itself isn’t wrong; it’s what you do with it that counts, and often that means restraining it. This is what Mark tries to espouse, and what his followers misunderstand completely. The story of how Mark came to believe this is also a good one.
Though Mark is that rare example of a romance novel virgin (although not the first I’ve come across), he’s not willing to let his virginity define himself. He just wants to make sure he’s doing it with the right woman, a woman he respects and loves and who feels the same way towards him. He knows he isn’t a saint, in short. Watching Jessica slowly recover her sense of romance and ownership of her sexual identity – sex is about her too, not just about the man – while Mark discovers everything for the first time is a surprisingly incredible experience, and for once uses the more promiscuous scenes to develop the characters amazingly well.
The only flaw in the novel was towards the end, where some irritating obstacles get in the way of the characters’ getting together. There is one particular instance which truly feels unnecessary. I also felt like Mark’s family was a wee bit too happy with a courtesan for a sister-in-law, especially given Jessica’s previous experience. A little too much fairy tale.
In short, though, Unclaimed is a stunning book that, for the most part, really blew me away. Courtney Milan is a romance author to watch, and definitely an addition to my auto-buy list.
All book links to external sites are affiliate links. I downloaded this book for free from Netgalley.
 Sugar is ubiquitous in Western cooking these days, but this wasn’t always the case. Abbott explores the history of sugar with us, from its earliest discoveries and uses to the exploitation of slaves in its cultivation down to the current explosion of sweetened drinks and fast foods. Enlivened with a number of pictures and copious sources, Abbott takes us through a journey that definitely is bittersweet, and which continues to be exploitative in countries around the world today.
I’m always fascinated by these histories that take one subject and use them to explore bits of everything else. In Sugar: A Bittersweet History, the main focus was definitely on one thing; slavery. Most of the middle of the book was taken up by the horrors of sugar slavery in many different parts of the world. Like the American slavery I’m more familiar with, even after slavery was abolished, people were still treated virtually as badly with rights in theory only for years afterwards, and unfortunately this sad trend actually continues. I’m glad the sugar I’m buying is fair trade, but it does make you think about the origin of the sugar in other products.
I read this book over a period of two or so months, because I read it on my phone whenever I didn’t have any other reading material available. It was surprisingly readable in this format, mainly because it’s broken up well into different sections. The time periods are organized well, and even the very long section about slavery is compartmentalized into different places in the world. This was actually also very interesting, because Abbott goes around the world exploring the fate of these people and also the determination of those who eventually freed them. The British campaign to end sugar slavery played a particularly large part in the book.
The book ends with an exploration of our current sweetener culture and the origins of fast food around the World’s Fair. I found this history of various sweets around the world to be absolutely fascinating, and the most readable part of the book, if not perhaps the most important. Now, of course, with an obesity problem in the US and the UK in particular, the blame has come down on sugar and various other sweeteners, which may change sugar’s future significantly.
One part that stood out to me in this latter section was the association of women and sugar – how sweet things were often marketed at women who were the “weaker” sex and not particularly able to avoid temptation, even though both sexes (obviously) enjoy sugar. This is actually a salient point that still stands, as I feel like quite a bit of sweet marketing is still targeted at women. I’m not sure I like that now that it’s been pointed out to me, and it’s something I’ll be paying attention to in future, in addition to ensuring I only buy and use fair trade sugar.
Recommended for anyone interested in sugar slavery or the history of sugar.
All book links to external sites are affiliate links. I purchased this book.
 Joan of Arc – Jehanne the Maid – is the legendary virgin who heard the voices of the angels and led the French Dauphin to victory, finally, over the English. This book portrays her journey, from the first time she heard the voices of the angels and struggled with what to do up until her capture by the English and untimely execution. All of twelve when she first hears the voices, Jehanne struggles with her mission, her destiny, and with the people around her as she vows to do God’s will and save the French from the English.
I was really looking forward to this book. For me, like for many people obsessed with the Middle Ages, Joan of Arc is a fascinating person. This is more so because if she appeared in the present day, I’m pretty sure she would be sent to a psychiatrist and / or mental hospital, as most people who have visions and hear voices are. In this book, Jehanne (as it is spelled in the French) is also doubted and mistrusted. She must persuade people to believe her and let her lead an army, even though she is only a teenager. It’s a hard struggle, and the book portrays it as such.
But unfortunately, there were just some aspects of it I didn’t like. Jehanne is incredibly introspective for a teenager; even though she recounts the story from the moments before her death, she is almost unbelievably knowledgeable about the people around her. She knows the priests won’t believe her, for example, even though their lives are about religion and surely they would rejoice in her visions, as most of France does eventually.
She’s also puffed up with self-importance, which makes her hard to like as a character. She is The Maid, and people must bow to her as she is in the right. In part, though, I felt that could easily be true to life, because if you had the Archangel Michael whispering in your ear that you would lead the French to victory, I’m pretty sure you’d be self-important too, especially as a teen. It makes Jehanne more human, one aspect that I thought Cutter did extremely well. She is definitely a teenager, even if that concept was foreign to medieval people. None of the other characters really stood out, but they didn’t need to really because the star of the show is genuinely the star.
What I suppose didn’t work very well for me was the atmosphere. I never quite felt like I was in the middle of the Hundred Years’ War. Part of this is down to a lack of detail; not much is actually explained about the history of the conflict or what is actually going on. There is one scene where the tale of Agincourt is told around the campfire, but other than that I didn’t think the scene had been set particularly well. For people who actually don’t know the history of the war, I’m not sure whether they would learn much or feel confused. But then I am a glutton for historical detail, so perhaps this one is just me. I know the author did her research and her author’s note is very thorough, so I didn’t have any problems there; the book just never clicked with me and I didn’t fall in love with it like I wanted to.
I’m not sure what I wanted from this book, but it isn’t quite what I got. What it did give, though, was a very realistic, human portrayal of Joan of Arc, so if you’re looking for that, The Maid is for you.
All book links to external sites are affiliate links. I received this book as a gift from Kathy.
|
|
Recent Comments