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 This review contains spoilers. Read the books first!
Todd and Fiona have arrived in Haven only to discover that it’s not a haven at all. It’s New Prentisstown and Mayor Prentiss has now declared himself the president of the entire planet. Fiona is seriously wounded and whisked from Todd’s view to heal, used as a threat to get Todd to cooperate. Todd himself is locked up with the old mayor of Haven, forced to spend time with Mayor Prentiss’s son Davy and commit ever more horrible acts against the Spackle during the day. When rebellion begins, Todd and Fiona begin to wonder who the Answer are and what is going to happen to New Prentisstown.
This is going to be a short review because I read this and Monsters of Men right after each other. I have quite a lot to say about the third book, but this one has somewhat blended in with it, so my observations are less clearcut. Still, I thought they each deserved their own post.
While I wasn’t so crazy about The Knife of Never Letting Go, I thought it was worth reading the rest of the series to see what happened with Todd and Fiona. This book was the perfect follow up for me because it took a step back, slowed everything down, and really fleshed out the world and the story. I’m not a huge fan of breakneck, breathless books, and so this was a breath of fresh air as Todd and Fiona stay in one place for the most part. They learn more about what happened in the past and they start to take strides towards changing the future. Their bond still remains very strong even though they’re apart for most of the book.
I can easily say the high point of this book for me was Todd’s relationship with Mayor and Davy Prentiss. I loved how the relationships gradually changed and were fleshed out as well as how genuinely true to life they were. Davy strives for his father’s approval but has never had Mayor Prentiss’s extreme, if cruel, strength of character, so he’s always going to be a failure. Todd does have that strength, and as a result Davy is almost naturally drawn towards him even if they’re enemies at first. It’s a fascinating dynamic and all of their emotions rang beautifully true for me.
By the time I finished The Ask and the Answer, I’d become a loyal fan of the series and could not wait to start Monsters of Men. I’m surprised by how much the book turned my feelings around, but I’m very glad, because Patrick Ness is a masterful writer and plotter.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 This review will contain spoilers for the entire series. If you haven’t read these books yet, skip this post and read them!
I am not even going to attempt to summarize this, but I thought instead I’d just post a collection of thoughts now that I’ve finally managed to finish the book myself, before I go out and read all the other reviews that might influence my own opinion.
First of all, I had a harder time connecting with this book than with either of the first two. I found it difficult to recognize these characters after the horrors they’d endured, and Collins just kept piling on the pain. The entire world has become unrecognizable due to the rebellion, so I found that there were few points for me to hang onto as references; all I had was Katniss and even she is often drugged, suffering, and considered mentally unstable by everyone else. Every time something happens to her, on come the drugs and the seclusion and I got very tired of it. All of the other characters either die or become distant versions of themselves, so affected by the turmoil of war that they are fundamentally changed.
And I think that’s what I didn’t like about the book in the end, that it was basically war. The Hunger Games certainly weren’t easy to take in either of the first two books, but there was a definitive goal, things I knew had to happen to get to the end. I knew which characters were in danger. This is just the horrors of war, over and over, and even though the Capitol is designed like a Hunger Games arena, I just found it that much more difficult to deal with. I think it may have made it worse, reading all three in a row, because there’s just so much violence and pain and suffering. By this point, I couldn’t take it. She doesn’t soften anything at all.
I also really didn’t like how the deaths were almost glanced over. Here I’ve gone and become attached to all of these characters and they just die over and over and there was no break in the book to mourn them. I had this problem with another dystopia, The Knife of Never Letting Go, and it bothered me just as much here.
That’s not to say I didn’t like the book, although it’s harder to say I like such a very dark book. I thought most of what happened in it had to happen for the ending to come out the way it did. We all could easily see the rebellion coming, that Katniss was the focal point of it, and that people were going to die to make it all come out okay for the rest of them. The plot had a few surprises in store. It was still just as absorbing a book as the rest of them, but I am not sure it lived up to my expectations. About the only thing that completely satisfied me was the ending, which was just how I wanted it to be, and Katniss even shared my reasoning for her eventual choice. I was worried that she wasn’t going to choose at all, based on some blog titles I’d seen around and the way the book seemed to be going. I do kind of think the epilogue was unnecessary, but not entirely unwelcome.
I’m glad that, in the end, the book left me satisfied, but since I did a reread of the first two before launching into this one, I genuinely don’t think it’s as good. I didn’t like it as much, it didn’t absorb me to the same extent. I may change my mind if I do a reread of the whole series in a year or two, when my internal hype has died down, and I’ll see if the conclusion sticks as well as the first two did.
What did you think of Mockingjay?
 Jack and Sadie Rosenblum move to England just before the start of World War II, their little girl in tow and big dreams in their heads. In Jack’s head, at least, as he longs to be a proper Englishman. On arrival in England, Jack receives a checklist of ways to become English. Jack fails to recognize the nuances of the said list and instead decides to conform to everything as though it were a requirement, marking him out as a foreigner just when he wants to fit in. Meanwhile, his wife Sadie wants to cherish her roots, and daughter Rose becomes a genuine native. When Jack reaches the final item on his list – joining a golf course – he struggles to find membership as a German Jew, and embarks on a quest to build his own golf course in a small rural town.
This book was completely charming in just about every way. Natasha Solomons writes in a wonderful, easy to read prose style but conveys the very true difficulties of adapting into a new society. Perhaps it’s unlikely that a man would conform to a list in order to fit in, but Jack uses the pamphlet as guidelines and doesn’t ever get close enough to English people in order to learn otherwise. They shut him out and treat him as a bit of a dummy, but again, he can’t pick up on those nuances – and when he does, they hurt so much that he simply ignores them. It’s enough to break your heart.
I loved the relationships in this novel, particularly when Jack and Sadie move out of London and try to fit in a country town. They’re still outsiders, true, but it’s a little bit different when you’re the only outsiders and don’t have your own community to rely on. The reactions of the townspeople to them are vastly interesting, as are those with their London friends who occasionally come for a visit. This part of the book seemed remarkably true to life for me; obviously, no one discriminates against me quite so much, but I have seen nationalities band together and form friendships based on nothing but their similar backgrounds; if you’re the only foreigner, attitudes and behaviors change.
Finally, I loved the culinary threads woven throughout the novel. It’s so true that food is a clear link to heritage; smells and flavors remind us of certain times in our lives as nothing else does. I wanted to try everything that Sadie made for myself; it’s so evocatively described that I could almost but not quite taste it. The food also made clear how Sadie felt in ways that the prose by itself couldn’t quite express, adding another layer on to the cultural isolation of the family and her character in particular.
Truly, Mr. Rosenblum’s List was a delightful book. It warred with my emotions and is surprisingly sad in parts, but it’s a remarkable depiction of the immigrant experience and manages to be a fantastic story besides.
This book is known as Mr. Rosenblum Dreams in English in the US. I’m an Amazon Associate and I purchased this book.
 On one November night in 1940, the city of Coventry was to be changed forever by the bombs of the German Luftwaffe. The destruction was immense; what wasn’t destroyed by bombs was consumed by the fires that they set, including the city’s immense medieval cathedral. The bombs will also drastically change the lives of three people trapped in the destruction; Harriet, a widow since the first World War, Jeremy, a young firewatcher, and Maeve, Jeremy’s mother.
This was such a stunning book; it’s hard to describe just how much. It’s one of those that highlights the sudden and unexpected connections between people, the reactions of different people to catastrophic events, and somehow comes out recognizing the significance of such horror yet also showing how healing, with space and time, is possible. For some, the world goes back to the way it was, changed but still the same old world, while others’ lives end in a blaze of wanton destruction.
My husband lived in Coventry for a few years, and as a result I too have been there. I’ve seen plenty of documentaries about it, heard the stories of survivors, and even visited the old cathedral. It’s still a bombed out shell; there are still two charred beams that form a cross where the altar once was. I have even spent time thinking about what wonderful medieval architecture was lost due to the bombing; the city as it is now is mostly concrete and ugly and its original character, with which these characters would have been so familiar, is utterly lost. But in this book, none of that is important; it’s all about survival.
I think it was the character of Harriet who touched me the most, probably because her reactions are similar to what mine probably would be in a crisis. She really just wants to get out. She helps people when she sees them, but there’s always a tinge of reluctance to it, because she knows full well that she might die. Death was brought home to her when she lost her husband of just a few weeks in the first World War, so she’s all too aware of what her fate might be. She’s completely unlike Jeremy, who seems virtually unaware that he could die at any moment; he’s too young to realize how fragile life is. And Maeve, of course, is consumed with worry for her son; she’ll happily go back into the flames for him, while Harriet only does so because she knows it’s right.
The entire book really got across the feeling of what it must have been like to live through that night, as horrific as it was, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the page. It was compelling, breathtaking, and heartbreaking in turns. It’s an evocative depiction of the senselessness of war, while simultaneously demonstrating the strength that individual people have even when they don’t expect it. Coventry is highly recommended.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 When she was young, Harper Connolly was struck with a bolt of lightning, and ever since then has had something of a connection with dead people. She can sense bodies, causes of death, and sometimes even flashes back into that person’s life to witness their death from their perspective. It’s more than a little stressful, but Harper uses her unusual talent to help people figure out the causes of their loved ones’ deaths, for a fee. When she and her stepbrother travel to a small town in the Ozarks to try and find the body of a local teenager, they realise that there’s a whole lot more than a suicide going on – and no one wants Harper to figure out the truth.
While this was absolutely nothing like the Sookie Stackhouse series, I still enjoyed it a surprising amount for a mystery. I don’t normally like mysteries, and I wouldn’t really call this one of my favorite books, but it held its own as a short, enjoyable read for an afternoon or two. The book is quite dark overall, which makes sense; the very nature of the book means that Harper is pretty much always thinking about death, how people died, and whether or not she’s about to be killed herself.
When I first started reading, I wasn’t really sure I was going to enjoy the book. Harper is a strange character; she’s very edgy and often wishes she could just be a normal person. She has a strange relationship with her stepbrother as well; they’re not actually related by blood and seem to do everything together, which feels a little strange. The whole book also has a dark feel that really suits its status as a mystery. Harris is never going to win an award for the greatest writing; she still focuses a little too much on mundane details like clothes and when characters wash up, the same as she does in the Sookie series, but her writing does go down easily and the book really sped by. This is especially so as the mystery began to unravel and I became more curious about each character and where the whole situation was going.
Because the book is so short, I don’t really have too much else to say about it, but for me Grave Sight had all the trademarks of an entertaining read. I do plan to continue the series; I’m so far not quite as drawn to it as I am to Sookie, but I won’t mind staying in this world a little longer either.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 Four women at crucial times in their lives find themselves joining together to form a catering business. Ellie is a Junior League wife and mother, confused about where her marriage is heading; Daisy is a vivacious, young single mother who has struggled along trying to provide for her clever, nerdy daughter; Cat, the only childless member of the group, has just been dumped by the boyfriend who previously defined her life; and Josephine, a woman looking to do her best at founding a business. Together, these women form the Jelly Jar sisterhood and aim for success and happiness above all else.
I’ll be honest; this book was a bit of a perfect storm of things I didn’t like. With that in mind though, it’s worth noting that I have recently liked books with large women’s fiction components (although I’d say this is a very light version of that), Christian characters, and set in the present. So I can get on all with all the elements of this book, but set up like this it just didn’t work for me.
I can start by expressing disappointment with the characters. The narration switches around between them and I can tell you that they are so indistinct that I didn’t notice until I realized one didn’t have kids and the others did. They all sound exactly the same. I didn’t pay attention to the chapter headings, but I never do, so I guess you could call it my fault, but that doesn’t fix the fact that only Daisy is at all different from the other three women in tone. In fact she was the only woman who had anything close to an interesting life or personality.
I also didn’t really feel like the story went anywhere. Jelly Jar stayed at about the same level; nothing was really gained by the end of the book except a friendship that was a little too, well, sweet. It felt unrealistic. Each woman had her own problems, but not much really changed by the end of the book. Even the couple that was in serious relationship trouble merely goes to counseling, and we don’t even read about their decision to do so, we’re just told about it.
Then there was the Christianity, which was too heavy for my tastes. I won’t go into detail, but I will say that I remember the last Christian fiction book I read, The Red Siren, with a lot more fondness than I’ll remember this one. I’d happily read more in that series; I would prefer not to read any more in this one.
I hesitated to post this review because it is so negative. Others have enjoyed this book a lot more than I have. In the end I decided it was worth getting my voice out there. If you do enjoy Christian fiction about women’s friendships, you may enjoy How Dolly Parton Saved My Life.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 Ivy Lockwell is one of three sisters, living in a fading house with her mother and ailing father. Without her around, it’s likely that her family would fall apart, but it’s also essential that the three girls marry; that’s because when their mother dies, their house will go to an odious cousin. Ivy’s father has been ill for some time now, and everyone but Ivy believes it’s due to his excessive magick use. Ivy is convinced that if she can find the spell to reverse the damage, she can cure her father; the little notes that he left her around the house encourage her in her quest. When she takes a job with the mysterious Mr Quent, Ivy begins to realize that the problem with magick isn’t just confined to her family, and that she might have deadlier enemies than she’d ever supposed.
This was such a charming book in so many ways. Ivy and her family are absolutely wonderful characters. Each of them has his or her own distinctive personality and the viewpoint switches around frequently enough that I could get to know several of them. The entire book is pervaded with a nice feel of fantasy, mystery, and at times romance. The plot is nicely twisty and turny for the most part, and even though I wasn’t entirely kept guessing throughout the book, it completely held my attention. I loved the fantasy world, with its variations on daylight and peculiar version of magick; I was really eager to figure out how it all fit together.
What I really loved about it, though, was the fact that this felt to me like a love letter to two of my favorite authors, Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. Sections of both authors’ books are recalled in a variety of ways, and even the prose style feels like it could very well belong in the nineteenth century in particular. I loved reading the echoes of Jane Eyre in the middle section of the novel in particular. It was like reading a few of my favorite novels with magic included, and to be honest, for me you can’t get much better than that. I have read several reviews which complain that it isn’t original enough, but I’d disagree with that. The rest of the book was enchanting in its own right, and such an homage to the classics simply made it better.
Honestly, this was just another of those books that perfectly suited me. A bookish protagonist, echoes of my favorite authors, a lovely subtle romance, and a wonderful fantasy world to back it all up left me a very happy girl. The Magicians and Mrs. Quent may not be for everyone, but it was definitely for me. I am eagerly awaiting the sequel, which is releasing next month, and I only hope that it’s as delightful a read as this was.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 Jean-Dominique Bauby was an active, robust family man and editor of French Elle when at the age of forty-three he was brought low by a rare stroke of the brain stem. After his stroke, he remained in a coma for months, and when he woke he suffered from locked in syndrome. This is a condition when a person’s thought processes are still intact and fully functioning, but his or her body is unable to communicate those thoughts. In Bauby’s case, he could still blink an eyelid to share his thoughts, but to be honest, that’s close enough. Before his death, Bauby dictated this, his memoir, letter by letter with blinks.
This is a heartbreaking book and I don’t know how to review it. It can’t really be a review, because how can you review such a thing? It’s impossible not to feel for this man who had his life stolen from him so dramatically and so quickly. He describes how, just before his accident, he was caring for his elderly father, who could no longer leave his flat, comparing how he was being shaved to the way he shaved his father. They both expected the elder man to die first – neither realised then just how fragile life could be.
Bauby distills his life into a series of minutiae that none of us ever think of; how happy he’d be if he could just swallow his saliva or be able to tell whether his limbs are hot or cold. The huge effect that an indifferent nurse can have – whether they’ll ignore his frantic eyeblinks or try to work out what he wants, whether it’s just the television on or a more serious problem. The last day of his normal life has taken on a surreal significance, of course; he takes us through it step by step.
What I think amazed me most about the book was that he maintained his good humor, his compassion, and all the best of his human spirit. He’s understandably a little bitter, but he never turns the memoir into an outlet for complaints; all of his observations are tinged with humor. Most of all what struck me was his determined efforts to get better. It seems that brain stems do occasionally heal, but do so at a snail’s pace. He was working on making noises with his mouth again. Devastatingly, the poor man died two days after this book was published, and all his goals herein left me with a sense of both sadness and wonder, that a man so betrayed by his own body could continue to hope that it would serve him well again one day.
If nothing else, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly will leave you with a lasting appreciation for your own life, for your ability to speak and walk and laugh. I can’t imagine how heartless you’d have to be to walk out on a frantically blinking patient after reading this book – I’m not a nurse and wouldn’t like to be, but even so it made me think about how I treat others and how I’d like to be treated. This is such a worthy, if sad, book, which should be read by all.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 Miss Kate Daltry’s life hasn’t been great since her father died. Since her stepmother Mariana cares nothing for their estate, nor for her, she’s had to take everything into her own hands – and when staff are fired, she ends up taking on their jobs. There are few bright spots in her life; she’s never had a London season and can’t imagine where she’d find a husband, nor is she certain that she’d be able to abandon the tenants to Mariana’s whims. When her stepsister is bitten by her pet dog, though, Kate is forced to impersonate her, complete with fiance and bratty dogs, at a ball in a prince’s castle. Little does she expect that she’ll find it so hard to keep up the pretense with Prince Gabriel.
Eloisa James is completely a must-buy author for me. You might recall that I just adored her Desperate Duchesses series, which only got better with each successive volume. While I’m not sure A Kiss at Midnight has the long-term resonance of that six book series with me, it’s still an absolutely delightful story that I thoroughly enjoyed.
Since A Kiss at Midnight is a Cinderella retelling, James chose not to set it in any specific time period so she could stay truer to the fairy tale. Some historical details as a result seem off, but the genuine fairy tale romance feel of the entire book is so worth it. The pages might as well be laced with a bit of pixie dust. I loved recognizing all the little details that are so familiar from a lifetime of variations on Cinderella, and in addition acknowledging a few of the changes the author made to mix it up. For example, the glass slippers aren’t really glass, but rather very thin fabric that is stiff and transparent. For rather obvious reasons, they could only have been worn once.
I loved the romance, too. These characters work so well together – so many of their interactions left me with a smile on my face. They learn to get past their initial misconceptions and truly love one another. I thought it was sweet and genuine. I also really enjoyed Kate’s interactions with her step sister Victoria, who is spoiled but has an extremely kind heart. Kate herself was the star of the show, though, always witty and vulnerable at just the right times. I don’t think she’d fit in at any time period that this book could have been set in, but that’s okay, because she doesn’t have to. As usual, I loved the literary references that the author threw in. She’s a professor of literature and I think it’s these touches that both add romance and make her books really stand out to me.
While this book may not have the emotional impact of, in particular, A Duke of Her Own, it was still an outstanding romance novel. I cherished the time I spent reading it, and if you enjoy sweet, fairy tale romances with a little bit of heat, this book is certainly for you.
It also has a gorgeous cover, doesn’t it?
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
 Eilis Lacey is quite content with her life in Ireland, living with her mother and sister. She doesn’t yet have a steady job, but she’s studying bookkeeping and hopes to get one when there are jobs available. She could go to England to get a job, like her three brothers, but she wants to stay at home. Unfortunately for that goal, her sister Rose meets with an Irish priest and decides that Eilis should try her luck in America. Eilis is secured a job as a shopgirl in Brooklyn, purchased sea passage and lodgings, and promised courses to continue bookkeeping. She finds that her life in Brooklyn is completely different from her life in Ireland, and she must grow and change to adapt in the city. When she’s called home suddenly, she then faces a choice; which life is the one she’ll stick with?
I loved this book. Loved it. I read it in a day and really hated all the times when I had to put it down. Others might call it slow, or quiet, but I just adored the development of Eilis’s character, the many discoveries she made, and how effectively I could put myself in her shoes. I loved the contemplative way in which the book was written; there’s hardly any action and all observations are third person but still from inside Eilis’s head. It made it so easy to really feel for her and wonder where her life was going and what she was going to do next.
I may also be a bit biased about this but I just adored the setting. I could easily imagine my own grandparents living a life similar to Eilis’s (although they were Italian, there are some Italians here), which brought a true personal touch to the entire book for me. I loved the descriptions of the subway, the streets, the houses, the churches, and especially Coney Island. Most of it probably looks the same now but it’s the attitude that matters here. Even Eilis’s job in the department store was absolutely fascinating for me, especially when the store decides it’s time to desegregate and starts to stock pantyhose suitable for all colors of women. Eilis, of course, is judged the only girl kind enough to serve the colored ladies, which gives us an up close and personal idea of what a real girl in her situation may have felt when she discovers that black women are the same as white women.
Finally, I absolutely adored the emotional conflicts that Eilis suffered and I felt that they were perfectly, beautifully true to life. I was amazed that Tóibín could get so inside a young girl’s head. I especially related perfectly to her feelings once she’d gone away from Brooklyn to visit Ireland – it does feel like a dream when you change countries like that, it’s almost too easy for it to become a distant memory in comparison to real life. I just couldn’t get enough of how real she felt to me, how her life is actually quite ordinary but somehow feels universal and significant. The world is changing, Eilis is changing, and the book depicts it all in such an understated way. I adore books that do that.
I loved Brooklyn and I really think it’s catapulted itself right to the top of my 2010 reads. I can’t recommend it highly enough and I will definitely be reading more by this author.
I am an Amazon Associate. I purchased this book.
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