Children's Fantasy: "Lily the Silent" by Tod Davies

Holy social commentary, Batman! Literature has a long history of being used to teach morals and social values, ancient Greek plays and Aesop's Fables coming most notably to mind. Add to that list Tod Davies's new book "The History of Arcadia: Lily the Silent," especially if you're looking to brainwash your children into an extreme left-wing way of thinking long before they're registering to vote.

In this children's book, the beautiful Lily (who will one day be queen) is taken from her peaceful homeland of Arcadia when soldiers from the wasteful and proud Megalopolis invade her country. Taken with her faithful dog Rex to a children's mine, she is eventually noticed by a handsome but spineless socialite and brought into the upper crust of Megalopolitan society. But Lily turns out to be there for another reason: the most prominent socialites know that their used-up land is close to destruction, thanks to a mystical book they found on the moon and an angel that they captured and tortured. Lily, they discovered, is the key to stopping a great cataclysm. They send her into the sea to retrieve a mystical key from mermaids, but when she returns to land, she tricks the socialites and leaves Megalopolis, leading a vast number of women and children into the mountains ahead of a tidal wave that wipes out the rest of the jeering, mocking city. From there Lily leads everyone through a harsh winter in the mountains, has a baby, and brings them all into Arcadia, where she becomes queen.

...WTF?

This was a really random-ass book. Aside from that, something that stood out for me was that it didn't really "show" the reader at all; rather, it "told" everything in more of a "first this happened. And then this happened. But really it was like this," instead of being able to create an image of events through the writing. But as awkward as that sounds, it has the feel of a folktale to it, which fits neatly with the written-by-a-bard thing. The simplistic writing style also makes this a good children's book, without too many complicated writing techniques.

But content? Holy crap. I'm not at all afraid or ashamed to say that I am a very politically liberal person. But Davies overloads this story with an incredible number of black-and-white social critiques of our modern age. There are the general themes of resource management, environmental protection and sustainability, yes. But it doesn't stop there. Davies goes on to condemn video games, blonde people, social media and large-breasted women, equating them purely with Megalopolis and expressing wonder on Lily's behalf at how different things are in Arcadia (which, we can assume, is full of only small-chested brunettes who worship the frequently-referenced Goddess). So much for the image of an idyllic, inclusive society accepting of all people.

Honestly, unless you're raising your kid to be the next extreme leftist nut job who is mostly laughed at but occasionally gets hours on a liberal radio station in the wee hours of the morning, I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone. Nope, no one. And I'm pretty sure that's a first for me. Just in case you want to see what I mean when I say this is a terrible book though, Tod Davies's book "The History of Arcadia: Lily the Silent" came out in October. I suggest you check it out from your local library, and avoid wasting your money on purchasing a copy. 

Steampunk Fiction: "The Dark Unwinding" by Sharon Cameron

Love clockwork and steam punk stories of Victorian England? This, dear reader, is a book for you. Sharon Cameron's first novel is a great adventure full of quirky characters, first love, a detestable villain and a young woman coming into her own.

A 17-year-old orphan entirely dependent upon her entitled aunt's charity, Katherine Tulman is sent from London to her uncle's rural Stranwyne Keep one summer. The occasion, however, is no holiday. Katherine has been charged by her aunt with testifying to her uncle's insanity so that Katherine's useless lump of a cousin can inherit the estate, after a lengthy stewardship by her aunt, of course. But when Katherine arrives at Stranwyne, instead of the Bedlam she expects, she finds a thriving community that wouldn't exist without her uncle's harmless, if unorthodox, way of life. Katherine must make the decision to risk her own position in her aunt's household or betray Stranwyne Keep's inhabitants in a setup that feels familiar but not old.

The writing style is easy to read and Katherine's plight creates a real connection to the reader, especially when you get the feeling that some characters know more about the truth than either Katherine or the reader does. This ties closely into the time period (namely in regards to strained relations between England and post-Napoleon France) and gives rise to the emergence of a good old mystery in the midst of the other plot lines, blended and intertwined to perfection. I'll be the first to admit that I thought the culprit was someone different than I expected, and I've read a number of clockwork mysteries in my time.

The only gripe I have about the story's outcome is that Davy's implication isn't entirely clear to me regarding motivation. Passing details, though, that could have poked holes in the plot were tied up quite neatly, leaving a large sense of unfinished business to imply an intended sequel, which I for one hope will be forthcoming sooner rather than later.

Ask your independently-owned local bookseller for a copy of Sharon Cameron's "The Dark Unwinding" now. 

Historical Fiction: "The Imposter Bride" by Nancy Richler

What happened after the "after"? It's a question I think we've all probably asked ourselves after reading some book that left you wondering or maybe even at a loss. In her new book "The Imposter Bride," Nancy Richler foregoes the bulk of the "before" in favor of the "after" of a Jewish family living in Montreal. A young woman by the name of Lily Azerov arrives there in Canada after fleeing Europe in the wake of WWII, where she has arranged to marry into the Kramer family. But like many, Lily is not who she was before the war, although this expression is more literal than metaphorical in her case. Years later, Lily's daughter Ruth tries to suss out the mystery of her mother and her mysterious disappearance when Ruth was a baby. Her efforts drag her through the muck of her family's rebuilding after WWII, their histories, fears, sins, and most desperate memories, but above all the love and commitment to each other that held them together despite adversity.

This was an interesting novel for me, in part because I found some of it quite frustrating. Richler paints vivid portraits of the characters involved, from old Yiddish women to dissatisfied young men in the up-and-coming world of business. But she moves from voice to voice, perspective to perspective, without any indication to the reader. It was unsettling, having to re-read every few paragraphs to put the perspective to the person. This became easier after a few chapters, after the challenge of not only reconciling multiple third-person perspectives with their appropriate characters but also identifying the first-person speaker as Ruth. While difficult at times, this did not unduly impede the unfolding of the story line.

That story line produced its own frustrations in me as well, though. I can't honestly tell you what kept it going, only that for some reason I kept reading. Perhaps I as a reader was just carried on the flow of events and the demystification of how the family members all fit together, before and after WWII, because I can't think of anything else that could be said to hold this novel together. Although the book is entitled "The Imposter Bride," and Lily Azerov's past and identity are what set this story in motion, its trail is really quite thready through the book, only briefly and tentatively following up on itself. While it's the initial hook to the story, don't expect much as far as closure goes. But despite this, the novel itself reads quite smoothly.

 I'd recommend this novel to someone who's looking for something to sit back and ponder, perhaps as a sort of "down time" book for a long week of being snowbound or something to read between harrowing crime novels. It's a good contemplation-type of story.

To find out the "afters" of both the Azerov and Kramer families, and see how this book clings to consolidation with the same tenacity as those two families, look for "The Imposter Bride" at your neighborhood bookstore in February 2013.  

YA Fiction: "Personal Effects" by E. M. Kokie

It's not easy, being a teenage guy. E. M. Kokie reminds us of this in her debut novel, "Personal Effects," which centers on the life of Matt Foster in what is probably one of the most difficult times of his life. On top of the normal problems of senior year in high school (like being totally in love with your best friend, learning to balance your mental and physical urges, and passing the last of your classes to graduate) add the trauma of having just lost your older brother on his last tour in Iraq.

TJ was Matt's hero, and with his mother dead and his father as emotionally unavailable as they come, he's left at a loss when it comes to coping. Until he goes through TJ's personal effects in secret, knowing that his father refuses to acknowledge that TJ is gone. There he discovers that TJ had a whole other life separate from both the Army  and his family, a life with someone special. In a last-ditch attempt to make sense of TJ's absence, Matt decides to disobey his father, his principal, and even his own reason to deliver TJ's last, unsent letter to the love of his life.

I didn't really understand what was going on to Matt, didn't really start to feel what it was to be him, until maybe midway through the story. But then again, I'm from a fairly liberal family without close relatives in the military. While I didn't understand on a personal level some of the things that Matt describes, like his father's mood swings and the physical abuse that he just tries to see as affection, I'm sure that it will resonate with someone whose situation better parallels the one in the book. It's a very visceral book, in an impressively convincing voice, considering that the author is a middle-aged woman and her protagonist a 17-year-old boy. Kokie isn't shy about dropping vulgarity or describing the *ahem* physical effects of feminine wiles. She does it all with a hint of humor and a grain of salt, and I found myself really caring about Matt and how things would or would not come together for him in the end.

I especially liked the play on words in the title of this work. "Personal Effects" can refer to TJ's belongings, which were sent home after his death and which started Matt's search for real closure. However, it also refers to the personal effects of TJ's death on different people, specifically Matt, their father, and TJ's lover. The two interpretations collide in the form of the unsent letter, and the personal effects that this personal effect causes.

Young adults today are living in a world that contains problems that weren't there just a few years ago. New technology, new wars, a whole new world gives rise to the need for new books to address these things in a way that can communicate to us what it feels like, and communicate to young readers that they are not alone. "Personal Effects" steps up to the challenge with all its gut-wrenching discovery of self and others. I'd recommend this to teenage guys, since it's "real" and not touchy-feely, but still deep and kinda tough to handle at times. It was also effective in showing me, someone without experience in a conservative military family, what the other side of the spectrum sees when it comes to war, politics and family.

E. M. Kokie's "Personal Effects" was released in September. Look for it at your favorite independently owned book store now. 

Historical Fiction: "The Art Forger" by B. A. Shapiro

Continuing the recent trend in art-themed novels is B. A. Shapiro's "The Art Forger," published by Algonquin Books. Shapiro's seventh book, this story centers around starving artist Claire Roth. Black-balled from the Boston art community because of a scandal three years ago, Claire makes  (very) modest living copying great works of art for an online reproduction company. When an old acquaintance from her pre-scandal days approaches her about copying a painting with questionable origins, Claire has to make a choice between her career and her personal integrity.

But wait, don't roll your eyes and walk away from this tired Right versus Wrong setup quite yet. Claire obviously chooses the "wrong" thing to do, otherwise there wouldn't be a story. But the Faustian (and, frankly, underwhelming) premise leads the reader on a merry chase through art history, forgers past and present, the finer legal points of art, and the established authority of "art experts." What looks like it might be a boring "learn your lesson" novel at the beginning is actually a lot more complicated, and rewarding, than it first appears.

In order to make all of these details and story lines fit together, though, there was some format finesse involved. Shapiro effectively intertwines three (connected) stories from three different time periods: the present, three years ago (the scandal), and in the late 1800's when Degas was still alive and painting. Not only are these distinct times clearly labeled at the beginning of chapters, they're done in different fonts and formats too, which is a nice touch.

The research that went into historical art forgers, painting techniques, nomenclature and practices featured in the novel is impressive. I learned a lot about different types of painting, different approaches to it and the mechanics of it as well, just by reading the details that were added to the text and story line. However, I'm sorry to say that this attention to detail seemed to backfire on occasion: when you spend so much time writing details into your text, your readers pay them more attention, so when you make a minor mistake (say, for example, he requirement of being fingerprinted to volunteer at a juvenile detention center) it jumps out.

Additionally, while the story's play was interesting, I'm sorry to say that the main character, in fact, was not. Aside from the tired cliche of the starving artist character, which is drenched in pained, labor-of-love desperation to not sell out, Claire Roth was one of those women who you just want to shake until their teeth rattle, then wash your hands of them because no matter how many mistakes they've made in the past, they just don't seem to have learned anything. You kind of start to think that maybe they actually deserve what they get when, somehow, their misguided decisions in love and life just keep turning out to be - well, bad.

I'd recommend this book to "mystery lite" lovers, as it's high on the suspense and discovery scales but lacks the grit of a lot of modern crime novels. It's also good for a book club or reading group, which is where I picked it up, because it seems like everyone can find something they enjoyed and something that irritated them about the story, and it's a different combination thereof for almost every individual. Look for "The Art Forger" now in the local bookstore of your choice.

Historical Fiction: "The Painted Girls" by Cathy Marie Buchanan

Historical fiction, in my experience, falls along a sliding scale of exactly how much of its content is fact, and how much has been created through artistic license on the part of the author. "The Painted Girls," Buchanan's second novel, is the result of much research into the life of a Parisian ballet girls painted by Edgar Degas.

Marie and Antoinette (the humor of the names in conjunction was not lost on me, although its purpose, if any, remained unclear) are sisters struggling to make ends meet with a deceased father, a drunken washerwoman for a mother, a ten-year-old sister, and debt ceaselessly threatening to drown them all. They see their salvation in the Paris Opera, where Antoinette has already lost her chance to become a ballerina, but Marie and little Charlotte may yet find their way onto the stage. This dramatic novel dips into the seedier side of the Opera, namely the realities of the girls who dance like gilded angels on the stage, and exactly what they have to do to get - and remain - there.

As I mentioned, Buchanan has obviously done a lot of research for this book. The Van Gothem girls really did exist, and Marie's character was the inspiration and model for "Little Dancer Aged Fourteen," a famous wax figurine by Degas. Additional characters, places, and incidents are gleaned from Parisian history, all of the same time period, and sources cited by the author in the book. It is all very involved and, frankly, quite impressive.

Also impressive is the manner in which Buchanan changes voice between the perspectives of Antoinette and Marie. The chapters alternate between these two characters, from their points of view, and it is instantly obvious to the reader when one character is changed for another. Through this language manipulation, not only words but perspectives, reactions, and opinions the sisters have of each other are cunningly used to convey the conflicts and struggles faced not only externally by the sisters, but internally as well. Love, loss, betrayal, self-doubt, passion and struggle: it's all here, from two different angles at once.

Although the book's conclusion was a little too tidy for me, one sister's turnaround a little too complete for me personally, its execution was wonderful and tied into the focal story line without obsessing about the time that had elapsed between the final chapters. And it's a happy ending, rewarding after following the characters through the immense number of challenges with which they struggle alone and together.

Look for "The Painted Girls" at your local bookstore starting January 10th, 2013.

Memoir/Environmental: "Into Great Silence" by Eva Saulitis

It is not often that a book published as a memoir focuses so little on the life of the author. Instead, "Into Great Silence" brings into sharp focus the life of the author in specific context of her research on the AT orca pod after the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill. It is a beautiful, heartbreaking story that galvanizes the reader to do something to help the damaged Alaska wilderness and, specifically, the orcas living there - only to then reveal that there is nothing left to be done.

Alaska's Prince William Sound is lovingly described with both the detail of a scientist and the emotion of someone who has been deeply touched on a spiritual level by that place. Her scientific findings about the AT pod that she studies are flawlessly balanced by tender emotion and very personal reactions to that which she observes, both in the destruction of the Sound and its healing.

This was an all-around beautiful book, and by the end of it I was bawling. Anyone who loves the precious fragility of life and the world in which we live will find something of value in this unique story. Saulitis has a gift for connecting the world of scientific exploration with humanity, so that we may all understand the significance of what we as a race are discovering.

"Into Great Silence" is slated for publication on January 15, 2013. If you are interested in a copy, which I think everyone should be, here is a link to the publisher's website: http://www.beacon.org/productdetails.cfm?PC=2284