Melting Stones by Tamora Pierce: C

From the back cover:
Evvy, the fierce young stone mage introduced in Street Magic, has accompanied her guardian, Rosethorn, on a mission to study a mysterious plant die-off. With the help of Luvo, who is the living heart of a mountain, Evvy discovers the real source of the threat, which is far greater than anyone had imagined.

Preventing a natural disaster may cost Evvy her life. Even more frightening, doing so may require her to melt her own heart of stone… and to open herself to human contact.

Written by Tamora Pierce specifically for the voices of Full Cast Audio, Melting Stones is an unprecedented publishing event: the first time a major novel from a best-selling author has made its debut on audio a full year ahead of the print version!

Review:
I’ve enjoyed all of the other books in the Circle of Magic series, but Melting Stones nearly bored me to tears. Here are the main problems I had with it:

1. Evvy herself. She was whiny and cranky, and prone to doing risky things. When Luvo cautioned her against a rash action, she said, “If you’re going to natter and scold, don’t come with me!” As a result, she got into a dangerous situation and all I could think was, “He tried to warn you, dumbass.” Additionally, this attitude meant she had to learn (and I had to endure) a Very Important Lesson.

2. Profound monotony. 90% of the book was Evvy either rhapsodizing about, talking to, or casting her magical self underground to travel within rocks.

3. It was more juvenile than the others in the series. The “real source of the threat” that Evvy discovered turned out to be two volcano spirits, characterized like petulant kids. Evvy’s narrator also contributed to the childish feel. The character’s supposed to be fourteen, but sounded about twelve. Not only that, she sounded like a twelve-year-old putting on her best story-time voice for a group of five-year-olds. If you can successfully imagine someone going on—at length and in detail—about rocks in such a voice, you’ve begun to understand my pain.

I might have enjoyed this somewhat more in a print edition, since I would’ve interpreted Evvy’s thoughts more maturely than the narrator did, but honestly, I don’t think it would’ve made much difference.

The King’s Arrow by Michael Cadnum: C

From the inside flap:
The year is 1100, less than fifty years after the violent Norman conquest of England.

Simon, the eighteen-year-old son of a Norman nobleman and an English aristocrat, is eager to find a place for himself in a divided kingdom. Offered the chance to accompany the king on a royal hunt, Simon jumps at the opportunity, hoping this adventure will be the key to an exciting future.

But the hunt goes fatally wrong, and in the aftermath Simon finds himself fleeing for his life, forced to make choices that will forever alter his own expectations.

Was it accident or murder? In a heart-pounding tale based on true events, acclaimed author Michael Cadnum reconstructs one of history’s most fascinating mysteries.

Review:
I was pretty disappointed in The King’s Arrow, especially since I liked Cadnum’s Robin Hood retelling, In a Dark Wood. The characters were flat and undeveloped, and I certainly didn’t care about any of them.

The book is short—only a smidge over 200 pages—and the big moment happened fully two-thirds in, so most of the book was just set-up. Cadnum did try to portray the importance of status and the social systems of the day at least a little, but mostly this was occupied by the bland protagonist and his concerns.

I especially found Simon annoying at the end when, fleeing from royal guards, he commandered a vessel belonging to friends of his, a brother and sister. This action ultimately led to a completely innocent fellow getting killed, and then Simon had the gall to be “disappointed” in the female friend because she sided with her brother instead of him. Ass.

When it ended, I was left with the overwhelming impression of “Is that all?” At least it was short.

The Tiger in the Well by Philip Pullman: B

From the back cover:
It’s 1881, and life has been good to Sally Lockhart. Unlike most Victorian women, Sally is completely independent, with her own successful business and a comfortable home for her young daughter, Harriet.

But Sally’s whole world is about to collapse. A stranger emerges, claiming to be both her husband and Harriet’s father and threatening all that she has—her business, her child, her very sanity. Sally realizes with growing horror that there is a guiding hand behind this deceit: someone who hates her so passionately that he has devoted years to bringing about her ruin. And there’s only one man that could possibly be…

Review:
No tears this time, but the best ending line ever made me crack up. Pullman has a real knack for unexpected perspectives. In the last book, it was Chaka the dog, and here it was Harriet, Sally’s two-year-old daughter. The (lamentably few) sections from her point of view were among my favorites in the book.

Structurally, The Tiger in the Well was similar to the first book in the series, The Ruby in the Smoke. For quite a while, things didn’t make much sense. There were two different story lines going on and because it wasn’t apparent why I should care about anything not involving Sally, the second story (involving Jews and socialists) was very boring. Pullman did bring everything together eventually, but it took rather too long for my tastes.

Another difference about this book from the others was that Sally largely had to face the peril alone. The threat of losing custody of Harriet drove her out of her comfortable existence and into hiding in parts of London she’d never had cause to visit, caused her to encounter poverty, misery, and exploitation that she’d not previously been exposed to. She also had to care for Harriet on her own and realized how much she was missing by choosing work over Harriet and leaving her in a nurse’s care.

That said, I really missed her friends, especially Jim. Without them, too, Sally wasn’t always as fearless, and sometimes let herself be swept along, as with a patronizing solicitor, longer than usual before finally snapping back to her determined self. These lapses were hard to endure, and sometimes even felt a little out of character.

My last complaint is that the identity of the villain was completely obvious throughout the entire book. Pullman was forced to include a mention of something near the beginning so that readers who started with this book would later understand the significance of the big reveal. To me, that just gave it all away. Also, the reader received several clues that Sally did not, so when she finally put it together, it was not as climactic as it could’ve been.

Even with all of these things to grumble about, I ultimately did still enjoy the story. It got a lot better in the last third or so, once Sally had some allies to help her out and had regained her spirits. The ending hints at her future happiness, as well. Though there is one more book in the series, it does not actually focus on Sally, so it’s nice to have an inkling about how she’ll spend the rest of her life.

Brave Story by Miyuki Miyabe: B

Book description:
Young Wataru Mitani’s life is a mess. His father has abandoned him, and his mother has been hospitalized after a suicide attempt. Desperately he searches for some way to change his life—a way to alter his fate.

To achieve his goal, he must navigate the magical world of Vision, a land filled with creatures both fierce and friendly. And to complicate matters, he must outwit a merciless rival from the real world.

Wataru’s ultimate destination is the Tower of Destiny where a goddess of fate awaits. Only when he has finished his journey and collected five elusive gemstones will he possess the Demon’s Bane—the key that will unlock the future.

Charity, bravery, faith, grace, and the power of darkness and light: these are the provinces of each gemstone. Brought together, they have the immeasurable power to bring Wataru’s family back together again.

Review:
It took me ages to finish Brave Story. Sure, it’s quite long, but the real issue is the occasionally aimless nature of the story. Ostensibly, this is the tale of a boy who ventures into a fantastic land to change his destiny. This venturing doesn’t occur until page 226. Before that we get the rambling tale of Wataru’s family and how his dad wants a divorce because he’s fallen in love with another woman. It’s not irrelevant stuff, but it’s told in a rather disorganized fashion. Editing would’ve helped a great deal.

Once Wataru enters Vision, the story picks up a bit, but it never fully escapes its meandering ways. The fantasy elements are interesting, and I’m always fond of political struggles in fantasy novels, but the characters are pretty flat. They can all be summed up in one or two words. There’s Kee Keema, a big lizardy guy, who’s friendly and devout. Meena, the cat-girl, who’s friendly and agile. Kutz, the Highlander (kind of a cop), who’s tough and buxom. They really never develop beyond these roles.

There are also some loose ends. At the beginning of the story, Wataru and his mom keep receiving phone calls where nobody speaks. I’m guessing the “other woman” is the culprit, but the mystery is never resolved. Another time, Wataru is given a task by someone, goes off to perform it, does something bad instead, and doesn’t return to the town. Wouldn’t that person wonder where he’d gone, go to check on him, find out what he’d done, and issue some kind of search?

Lastly, the book has some kind of strange soporific power, as I dozed off while reading it on at least five separate occasions.

For all these faults, though, it really isn’t bad. It’s kind of like a shounen anime, where some of the episodes are rather pointless filler, but it eventually pays off with something cool. I’m just not sure I’d recommend for someone else to slog through 816 pages for that sort of experience.

The Shadow in the North by Philip Pullman: A-

From the back cover:
The year is 1878, and the spirited Sally Lockhart, once again defying Victorian sensibilities, has gone into business for herself. When one of her clients loses a large sum of money in the unexpected collapse of a British shipping firm, Sally sets out to investigate. But as she delves deeper into the identity of the wealthy and elusive industrialist who owns the doomed company, she uncovers a plot so diabolical that it could eventually subvert the entire civilized world—and if Sally’s enemies have their way, she won’t live long enough to see it happen.

Philip Pullman continues the nerve-shattering story of his canny and courageous heroine in this second Sally Lockhart mystery.

Review:
Pullman made me cry like a great big sap again! And more than once, this time.

The Shadow in the North took place 6 years after the first book in the series, and the main characters underwent some changes in that time. Sally, awesomely, attended Cambridge and set up her own financial consulting business. Fred, the photographer, was personally much the same but had been trying unsuccessfully for years to get Sally to marry him, which led to several wonderful half-loving, half-antagonistic scenes between them. Jim, the erstwhile office boy, grew up into a young man with a taste for action and a way with the ladies.

By far, the characters were the best part about the book. I loved each of the three main characters, but found many of the random people encountered as part of the investigation to be interesting, as well. I was also quite fond of Sally’s dog, Chaka. Probably because Pullman took care to show how much the fiercely loyal and protective dog loved her. Okay, yes, this was one thing that made me cry.

I didn’t think the mystery was all that interesting, though. The question was more “how do these things fit together?” and largely dealt with industrial misdeeds. Perhaps that was the point, though. This case, which might seem rather mundane on the surface, ended up impacting the characters most profoundly. And since that is what’s most important to me, I still enjoyed the book very much.

A note on the audio edition: Anton Lesser was again amazing as narrator, but I think the book might actually have been censored. While referencing my paper copy, I noticed that one paragraph, prelude to an act of physical intimacy, was excised and that some lines of post-coital dialogue were altered. The omitted bits were kind of clumsily unsubtle, so it’s possible that Pullman himself did a rewrite at some point, but it does make one suspicious.

Shade’s Children by Garth Nix: B+

From the back cover:
In a brutal city of the future, human life is in the hands of the evil Overlords who have decreed that no child live a day past his fourteenth birthday. On that Sad Birthday, the child is the object of an obscene harvest—his brains and muscles are used to construct machine-like creatures whose sole purpose is to kill.

The mysterious Shade—once a man, but now more like the machines he fights—recruits the few children lucky enough to escape. He gives them food, shelter, and the training they need to fight the Overlords. But Shade’s sent many children out on missions—and fewer of them are coming back.

By luck, cunning, and skill, four of Shade’s children—Ella, Drum, Ninde, and Gold-Eye—have come closer than any to discovering the source of the Overlords’ power—and the key to their downfall. But the closer the children get, the more ruthless Shade seems to become…

Review:
My friend at work loaned this to me many months ago, and I’ve finally managed to read it. Happily, it was good, so polite dissembling on that point won’t be required.

I definitely enjoyed the book. The Overlords were really creepy and neat, and there were some good surprises along the way. I particularly liked Ella; she kind of reminded me of Buffy at times. She even pondered using a rocket launcher against her foes!

But… I wanted more. I wanted to see more of society both before and after this Change occurred. I wanted to see more of the rest of Shade’s Children (both past and present), to see more missions, to delve more deeply into the characters. Gold-Eye is kind of the protagonist, for it was through his newbie eyes that Shade’s organization was revealed to the reader, but he had the least personality of the four kids. He liked girls. That was about it.

Ultimately, although Shade’s Children afforded more of a glimpse of a world rather than its exploration, it was still completely worth reading and made me want to seek out more by Nix. Thanks, work buddy!

The Ruby in the Smoke by Philip Pullman: B+

From the back cover:
“Beware the seven blessings…”

When she first utters these words, sixteen-year-old Sally Lockhart doesn’t know their meaning. But when an employee of her late father hears them, he dies of fear. Thus begins Sally’s terrifying journey into the seamy underworld of Victorian London, in search of clues that will solve the puzzle of her father’s death. Pursued by villains and cutthroats at every turn, she at last uncovers two dark mysteries. One involves the opium trade; the other, a stolen ruby of enormous value. Sally soon learns that she is the key to both—and that it’s worth her very life to find out why.

Review:
This made me cry, dangit. I swear, I am such a sucker for kind fathers. It’s ridiculous.

Anyway, it took me a little while to get into this book, because there were a few mysteries going on simultaneously and nothing really made sense for a couple of chapters. Sally’s coolness as a character really only emerged once she’d left the care of a distant relation and come to live with a photographer and his sister. Their business was in financial straits, and she delighted in devising ways to get it back on track. I loved that she was a competent girl who excelled at bookkeeping and numbers. The supporting cast were also lively and fun, and I snickered more than once.

Anton Lesser narrated the audiobook and he was fabulous. He had distinct voices for each character, and I’ve never heard a man achieve such a realistic voice for a woman as he did for Mrs. Holland. It really added a lot to the experience.

The actual mystery was a little too Holmesian for my taste, what with secret societies, sparkly jewels, and ties to the Mysterious East. I also didn’t like the use of opium as a means to impart revelations upon the heroine. Still, I enjoyed it well enough to continue on with the series. The library has two more narrated by Lesser, so I will definitely be seeking those out.

The Drowning of Stephan Jones by Bette Greene: D

From the back cover:
Hate. It’s the farthest feeling from sixteen-year-old Carla Wayland’s mind. She can’t believe people would persecute others just because they are different. But she isn’t about to worry about the injustice surrounding her because she’s in love with handsome and popular Andy Harris. Although raised to act on her ethical beliefs, Carla finds that her enchantment with Andy makes her a silent partner in his hate campaign and harrassment of gay couple Stephan Jones and Frank Montgomery.

At first Carla manages to overlook and explain away Andy’s atrocious behavior toward the men. but Stephan drowns as a direct result of what Andy and his friends do, and Carla can no longer deny the truth. Carla must decide before the trial which side she’s on and what she stands for. Will justice prevail?

Review:
Okay, I give this book some credit for condemning persecution of gays. The story is memorable, and I do like Frank. But wow, the writing is bad! The general tone is childish, there are many instances of dialogue not sounding natural, and the use of exclamation points is excessive. In one 11-page chapter, I count 36 of them. Later, on a single page containing a hateful letter Andy has written, there are 27.

There are plenty of examples to choose from, but here’s an excerpt that’s fairly illustrative of several flaws simultaneously. To set the scene: Andy has just finished ranting about how gays should be given a mandatory death sentence. Note how this does not deter the protagonist from fawning over him.

“Know what [Dad] tells me? He says, ‘Peabrain’ — I love that little joke of his, calling me ‘Peabrain.’ He says, ‘Peabrain, marry yourself a good woman and forget all this religious stuff, ’cause she’ll do praying enough for you both!'”

“He calls you ‘Peabrain’?” Carla protested. “That’s so cruel, and not one bit fair because anyone can tell that you’re… I mean… you’re really intelligent. I hope you don’t let him get away with that!”

I’m not exactly sure if it eventually got better when the subject matter got more serious or whether I just became accustomed to it. Either way, the problems became less glaring toward the end, but never wholly went away.

Goodbye, Mr. Chips by James Hilton: B+

From the back cover:
Full of enthusiasm, young English schoolmaster Mr. Chipping came to teach at Brookfield in 1870. It was a time when dignity and a generosity of spirit still existed, and the dedicated new schoolmaster expressed these beliefs to his rowdy students. Nicknamed Mr. Chips, this gentle and caring man helped shape the lives of generation after generation of boys. He became a legend at Brookfield, as enduring as the institution itself. And sad but grateful faces told the story when the time came for the students at Brookfield to bid their final goodbye to Mr. Chips.

Review:
This was a charming little novella that trod a little close to sentimentality sometimes but was nevertheless a pleasant thing to spend a morning reading. Hilton well conveyed the peaceful atmosphere of a British boarding school at the turn of the century, and also made some bittersweet points about everything that once seemed so important eventually fading out of collective memory.

I also liked the discussion of teaching itself, particularly as Mr. Chips at one point felt that he was capable of giving service but not inspiration—the very reason I myself recently stopped teaching. Having comparable experience, I can also affirm that this statement is completely true: “In my mind you never grow up at all.”

Many live action adaptations have been made of this book; it’s definitely the kind of story that one could expound upon without violating the intent of the original material. I think I shall be investigating some of them.

Specials by Scott Westerfeld: A-

From the front flap:
“Special Circumstances.” The words have sent chills down Tally’s spine since her days as a repellent, rebellious ugly. Back then Specials were a sinister rumor—frighteningly beautiful, dangerously strong, breathtakingly fast. Ordinary pretties might live their whole lives without meeting a Special. But Tally’s never been ordinary.

And now she’s been turned into one of them: a superamped fighting machine, engineered to keep the uglies down and the pretties stupid.

The strength, the speed, and the clarity and focus of her thinking feel better than anything Tally can remember. Most of the time. One tiny corner of her heart still remembers something more.

Still, it’s easy to tune that out—until Tally’s offered a chance to stamp out the rebels of the New Smoke permanently. It all comes down to one last choice: listen to that tiny, faint heartbeat, or carry out the mission she’s programmed to complete. Either way, Tally’s world will never be the same.

Review:
Specials is big on story and premise, small on emotional impact. The chief fault of this series (characterization) hasn’t changed. Tally’s in a constant state of flux: she’s this, she’s that, she thinks this, she thinks that, she feels this, she feels that. One can’t really identify with a protagonist whose true nature is so hard to pin down.

The plot and the setting, however, made this an enjoyable read. I was surprised by the direction of the story on a couple of occasions, and though Tally’s ultimate fate is a little odd, it also kind of brings things full circle, so I’m okay with it.

Ultimately, I’d recommend the series, but as a library selection. At this time, I don’t intend to purchase my own copies to have on hand, which I usually do with true keepers.