by SB Sarah • Tuesday, July 10, 2007 at 05:50 PM
Our Grade:
Title: Adiós to my Old Life
Author: Caridad Ferrer
Publication Info: MTV Books/Pocket Books 2006, ISBN: 1416524738
Genre: Young Adult
I’m sure I’m going to get a reputation online as being some YA groupie who will give an A to any YA romance thrown at me. I’m going to lose any credibility I have but seriously, people keep sending me really good YA romance. I might have to review a Sweet Valley High just to snark on some YA. I do have plenty to choose from. Maybe the one with the earthquake that makes the refrigerator fall on this girl and kills her. Let me know which SVH you’d like me to aim the Bitchysnark at, and I’ll review it.
But alas, you shall have to contend with Sarah reading yet another YA romance that was so good she ended up rereading it at least two and a half times. I still reread sections even as I’m writing the review. The book draws me back in every time I pick it up. I thought about loaning it to a neighbor and couldn’t bear not to have it to write the review. It’s that good.
Alegria Montero tries out for a Spanish language reality show called Oye Mi Canto - “Hear my Voice.” By far one of the youngest to audition at age 17, but also one of the most talented, Ali impresses the hell out of the judges and lands one of the coveted spots on the television show. Trouble is, her very protective father has no idea she auditioned - her best friend Sosi forged his signature on the permission form. But to her surprise, she finds herself on television among some very talented - and some very vindictive - young artists, competing for an incredible opportunity to become a star. More importantly, Ali discovers what it is about performing that makes each moment on stage magical and beyond fulfilling, and learns how to grow up fast in a very, very public forum.
There’s no shortage of elements in this book that I enjoyed. Ali’s fluctuations between belief in herself and feelings of being completely overwhelmed by her experiences seem totally normal and not at all contrived, and the behavior of the people who surround her is equally believable. Ferrer has a deft and and noticeable talent in creating vivid characters. The inserted Spanish in the dialogue made sense - though as a disclaimer I do speak Spanish, but to a non-speaker it’s not that difficult to understand - and it was colloquially accurate from my experience talking to Cuban Americans. The bits of Spanish and affectionate slang added to the authenticity of the characters, and demonstrated easily the regard and love they have for each other, and for Ali.
Now, I am a sucker for behind-the-scenes information of any kind. Going into the back end of the zoo to clean poo on tv? I’ll watch that. Reading about how roadies set up a stage in a day or two? I’d totally lose myself in that. So this book fed my behind-the-scenes appetite admirably. First, Ferrer wrote in terms a person familiar with popular music would use, giving the reader inside knowledge and language about popular music - songs are called “charts,” for example, and Ali plays a priceless guitar called a Bernabé . I learned a good bit about music, acoustic instruments, and techniques that musicians use to remix popular songs with very different and innovative cultural flavors.
In addition, there’s a great deal of inside information about the backstage life of a reality tv show much like American Idol, from insight into the loss of the producer’s autonomy if a show becomes popular, to the way contestants can come together to support each other or tear each other down ruthlessly.
But even with the wealth of information about music, performing, and television competition, Adiós to my Old Life is about a strong and admirable heroine realizing her dream and acquiring sudden fame, while learning to appreciate being so blessed with a gift in music that it’s both an ambition and a solace.
The only limits to my enjoyment were an unfortunate habit of infodumping in the beginning, with Ali narrating a huge amount of explanation as to the setup of the story. And I had a hard time believing that much of the time Ali was unaware of the growing fanbase she and the other contestants had acquired, though it totally fits with her character that she’d try to ignore it.
There is a romance, though it’s secondary to the heroine-centered coming of age story that makes the book so attractive. Her romance with Jaime, a production assistant, is a major element, though not the only element that creates Ali’s character, and her relationship with Jaime pops in and out of the story as Ali learns to navigate the requirements of the performance schedule of Oye mi Canto. But the resolution of her romance is definitely a requirement to the happy ending of the novel.
If you’re looking for straight-up YA romance, this isn’t necessarily it, but this is a happy, fantastically charming story of a heroine you can both like and admire. I can’t even say how pleased I am that Adiós to my Old Life was nominated for a RITA™ for Best First Book, and for Best Contemporary Single Title Romance. I read romance for a number of reasons, but primarily because at the end, it makes me happy. This book certainly did so, and more.
by SB Sarah • Friday, July 06, 2007 at 09:13 AM
Our Grade:
Title: Rises the Night
Author: Colleen Gleason
Publication Info: Signet Eclipse June 5, 2007, ISBN: 045122146X
Genre: Paranormal
Following the death of her husband, Phillip, Victoria, Lady Rockley and Venator in the Gardella family of vampire slayers, is back on the streets after a long time of mourning, hunting and waiting for her chance to avenge her husband’s death against the uber vampire Lillith.
Total aside: What’s with all the vampire queens named Lillith? Does she know she had a roving fair of chick music named after her, too? I mean, dang. Eve must be pretty pissed that all the evil queens and music fairs are being named after her predecessor - can you imagine that press conference? “Y’aaaaaaaalll! I totally gave Adam that apple and got everyone tossed out of the garden of Eden! *stamps foot, tosses hair* How is that not evil enough for you?! SRSLY!”
So anyway, evil vampire Lillith has run away to hide, and Victoria’s facing a new set of enemies, a vampire named Nedas, son of Lillith, who has acquired an evil obelisk that can summon and harness many levels of evil undead to run amok, wreak havoc, and vanquish humanity. To say the least, this is a bad idea from Victoria’s perspective, so she and her aunt Eustacia, who is the leader of the Venators as Illa Gardella, the matriarch of the Gardella family, pack up and head to Italy. Victoria runs into her duo of men, Max and Sebastian, and both are as ambiguous and uncertain as ever, despite Victoria’s growing and complicated regard for both of them. Add to that the larger understanding of her role as the granddaughter of The Gardella, and the responsibilities that will one day fall on her shoulders, and Victoria has a lot to deal with once again.
Like the first book, the second offers seriously nonstop action. The pace is so quick and so fast that it’s stimulating reading instead of relaxing reading. This isn’t a book you ruminate over each passage. This is high octane move-your-ass reading that draws the reader in immediately.
Most notably, Gleason - and I won’t give away the plot twist no matter what fancy things I can do with font colors - managed to shock the hell out of me AND the heroine at the same time. I didn’t believe what was going to happen would actually happen and my reaction mirrored the heroine’s at each paragraph. I won’t say more because I feel guilty for potentially revealing the Big Secret but, damn, this was not good for my blood pressure.
Oddly, one continuing theme to the story has me baffled. As the series progresses, the tendency to keep Victoria in the dark by most of the senior and experienced characters drives me more and more batty. Victoria goes to Italy with her grandmother, and her grandmother takes care of setting everything up for their households, including Victoria’s identity as she investigates undercover, and all manner of secret details - and involves Victoria in none of it. Later, they go to the center of Venator headquarters, where her grandmother is treated akin to royalty. She is The Gardella, the matriarch of the Venators, with Victoria as her heir. Despite being the heir to such a huge mantle of responsibility, her grandmother and other characters still keep her largely in the dark as to the details and logistics of being a Ventator, to the point where I want to smack them all upside the head. On one hand Victoria is moving from a role as a newbie innocent Venator into one with more experience killing Guardians and Imperials in sets of two and three, but on the other, she’s coddled and cared for even as she’s told by those same people doing the coddling that she needs to grow up and face her difficult future.
However many times Victoria is thrown into the deep end of the bloody Venator pool, she manages to tread water and kickass at the same time, which is reassuring to say the least. Her strength and resilience is impressive, and makes for a compelling heroine. Add to that the men of mystery, Max and Sebastian, neither one of whom she is sure she can completely trust, and the book ends with half the questions answered and even more created.
Among my questions:
1. Why does Sebastian forever take his damn jacket off? Every scene: he’s taking his jacket off, or he left his jacket in the carriage, or he tosses it over a chair. The man lives in shirtsleeves. At some point this is either going to be a clue of some sort, like he’s signaling faraway observers with his white sleeves and manly arms, or it’s a peculiar affectation. But either way, it’s like David Caruso’s sunglasses: On! Off! On! Off! WTF?
2. Why does Victoria dismiss as coincidence the repeated surprise arrivals of people she knows in locations she shouldn’t likely see them? Surely this would make her suspicious, as it did me.
3. What happens next?
Like any series worth keeping track of, the Gardella Vampire Chronicles leaves as much unanswered as it does solved in the first two volumes, and the larger story arcs, from which man Victoria will choose to how she’ll face the final showdown with the Big Bad that lurks in the background, are intriguing. My patience with series books is thin, as I’ve said often on this site, but in Gleason’s hands, the mix of action, emotional punch and intrigue serve to keep me interested in books three through five. For example, I can go back and forth about which man she’s likely to choose, and why each is better, and that kind of well-wrought triangle is hard to find. I almost dread the final answer since the balance between them is so well maintained.
by SB Sarah • Sunday, June 10, 2007 at 07:29 AM
Our Grade:
Title: Savage Moon
Author: Cassie Edwards
Publication Info: Dorchester 2002, ISBN: 0843949635
Genre: Historical: Other
Browser compatibility issues? GROWL!
Below is the text from the review of Cassie Edwards’ Savage Moon, with the comments in italics and not Javascript-enabled. So if you can’t read the entry with the Java comments, please enjoy below.
“Misshi, you are in such deep thought. What were you thinking about, little sister, that made you smile so sweetly?”
No way dude. Do not ask what her thoughts were. I cannot handle an incest subplot. It’s only page 6.
“You, big brother, you.”
She reached over and placed a hand on his knee.
“Maybe I’d best not ask what your thoughts were, but you were smiling, weren’t you?”
For the record: I was not smiling
“It tears at my heart to know that such a man has my sister.” He would hunt down Chief Bear and kill the savage himself. If… she...was still alive!
Note: ellipses are for em...pha...sis....
...
“Son, your tepee awaits you. Foods that you kill will cook over the flames of the fires. I have taught you not only how to be a strong leader with the right morals, but I have also taken the time to teach you the art of cooking, since you and your braves will not have mothers, or daughters, or even cousins to cook for you.”
Heaven forbid he not have the right morals, or that the reader not be informed of them through wooden dialogue! And clearly his mother’s other Indian name: JuliaFuckingChild.
When she saw the lifeless body...she knew the one lying there was her husband. Signing with relief, for she did love the man no matter the havoc he wreaked everywhere he went, she fell to her knees.
Of course she loves him. He kills people in fits of rage and she has had to send her only child away for his own safety. How can you not love a man like that?
He was devoted to his small group.... And with a woman by his side, giving him the nourishment of her love, could he not be twice the leader he was said to be today?
Sounds like Soaring Hawk is really just tired of cooking for himself.
My heart is heavy. I cannot put everyone in danger only because the boy in me wants to go to my mother.
What a weenus
...
Misshi signed happily. She had adapted well to life with these kind Shoshone. She had even dyed her hair black with the stalks of a root called we-sha-sha so that she could look like an Indian. She was so very fond of her life as an Indian maiden that she was averse to the idea of going back to live in the white world.
Looking for the backstory of how she adapted to this new life? This is all you get
“It seems that fate today has arranged that you and my adopted daughter should finally meet. Perhaps it is the will of the spirits. I am not one to argue with fate.”
Fate, huh? Chief Stepfather clearly studied his Greek and Roman mythology in Indian chief school.
...
“My son is too astute to take such bait.... He is a man who prays and whose prayers are answered. In his prayers he sees his mother well and strong.”
Part of those morals she taught, huh? Christian rhetoric towards prayer? In my prayers I see myself with no recollection that this book exists.
...
He had to see to Chief Bear’s demise. Of late he had discovered he had a talent for singing. He couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to perform before an audience in St. Louis’s beautiful opera house.
See? I was not kidding. Opera + Lisp = Subtle reference to gayness and therefore teh evil.
...
He was sure she had feelings for him, and that knowledge made his loins ache with need of her. He wanted her with him always!
When a man you have never met before realizes his loins ache with need of you...now THAT is Impulse. Or VD.
“Soaring Hawk, is it not time for your blankets to be warmed by a woman’s body? Does not Misshi stir your loins?”
That would be her stepfather talking. At this scene I crossed my legs and felt ill.
She gasped, embarrassed by Washakie’s openness in speaking about Soaring Hawk’s loins!
I did not want to know about his loins, either, but no one asked me.
But nearby, glittering evil green eyes watched them from high above, soon to make a beautiful moon become suddenly...savage.
Did you miss that? The moon is...savage? Like the title of the book? Yeah? You got that? Ok then.
Because life was harsh here in Wyoming land.
It is pretty fucking awful here in Jersey land because I am still reading this goddam piece of shite book.
...
“Do you truly think I can learn how to ride a horse again?”
“You will ride, you will feel the freedom of riding, and you will feel the joy it brings to your heart.”
Yeah. Subtle, there, Mr. Hawk. Also, would the concept of a heart properly belong in Shoshone vernacular?
“When I wish to be alone with my prayers, I come to this secret place. One day, though, it will be discovered by whites.”
‘You mean like the one next to you? You want to offend the girl who stirs your loins?
“It is so beautiful,” Misshi sighed.
Never mind. She is too stupid to be offended.
A blaze of urgency filled her as his tongue continued to pleasure her in a way she would have thought forbidden. But the wild exuberant passion it created within her made her uncaring of society’s rules.
What society? Does Native American society forbid oral sex? Or was she thinking of Regency society?
“Nei-com-man-pe-ein, I love you, woman,” Soaring Hawk said huskily, then crushed her lips with a heated kiss and ground his body into hers until they both moaned.
Probably because it hurt. Ow.
...
“Those responsible for this kill might be close enough to grab you.”
“Then go and I will go with you; I shall keep my eyes closed.”
Can I keep my eyes closed, too? For the rest of the book?
...
He knew that this night would not pass without their coming together as lovers!
Chiefs who speak in exclamation points are probably lousy in bed, though.
In Shoshone and Bannock the North Star is called Wa-se-a-ure-chah-pe, and then there is Ursa Major which his also called the Seven Stars and The Wagon. It makes its revolution around the polar star, pointing toward it. This is the secret of how my people travel by night when there is no moon.”
Time to show off a small amount of research!’
“I love the Milky Way.” I love how it is called moch-pa-achon-ka-hoo, the backbone of the sky.”
This is one hell of a Wiki article she read.
“We also believe the Aurora Borealis is a cloud of fire.”
At least, we believe it because the internet says we do.
Nothing had stopped Chief Bear’s hate until that bullet entered the base of his skull and rendered him almost a vegetable.
Yes. Native Americans totally used that phrase to describe catatonic people.
Misshi turned toward White Snow Feather. She tried to ignore the resentment in the depths of the woman’s eyes.
“White Snow Feather, I can never forget what Chief Bear did to my family, and I’m not sure I can ever forgive him, but if Soaring Hawk can bargain for his release, I will not interfere.”
Just that quickly, the antagonism White Snow Feather had felt for Misshi was gone.
You mean your conflict with your mother in law is not solved this easily?’
His father wasn’t even aware when Soaring Hawk could no longer hold back his tears and took Chief Bear into his arms. “Oh, Father, is it I. It is Soaring Hawk who has come to take you home to Mother.”
What a weenus.
...
“This is our special night. My woman, I have not even played my flute of love for you.”
NO NO NO. DO NOT PLAY YOUR FLUTE OF LOVE.
He was proud of her knowledge of the Shoshone way of healing. She knew so much, no Shaman was required to ensure Soaring Hawk’s health.
She is a regular powerhouse of healing, yet she is dumb as tree bark.
“See the dried material on the very tips of the sharpened stone arrowhead?” Soaring Hawk said, pointing toward it. “The points of these arrowheads have been dipped into a mixture of pulverized ants and the spleen of an animal that has been allowed to decay in the direct rays of the sun,” Soaring Hawk said grimly. “This rotten mixture combined with rattlesnake venom is the deadliest of weapons.”
Hey! It is CSI: Shoshone!
Misshi fell to her knees. “Finding these scalps and these arrows proves that my brother has been killing whites and making it look like the work of Indians.”
Or merely that he likes to kill people and keep souvenirs under his floorboards. Nice aroma. Hides the crazy person smell.
...
“During council, I had a premonition you weren’t safe.”
Nah. Really they were about to form a task force and he ran out of there before they appointed him to it.
“Big brother, who was the true savage! You were, Dale, you were.”
Yeah. You were. In case you missed all the scalping earlier, gentle reader. In ironic twist: white brother = savage.
“These flowers will help erase the ugliness I just went through.”
Where are my fucking flowers that can erase the ugliness I went through!? SOMEONE GET THOSE HEALING MEMORY ERASING FLOWERS ON THE PORCH - STAT!
by SB Sarah • Saturday, June 09, 2007 at 07:00 PM
Our Grade:
Title: Savage Moon
Author: Cassie Edwards
Publication Info: Dorchester 2002, ISBN: 0843949635
Genre: Historical: Other
It’s awful. it’s just awful.
Does that sum it up enough? No? You want me to relive the story details for you, to put my brain through the egg beater one more time? I’m already mour stupidur for having read this stinker of a book. But fine.
About two or three weeks ago, anonymous packages started showing up on my porch every few days. Inside each one was a Cassie Edwards novel. Due to this absurdly generous person, I am now the proud owner of Savage Moon, Savage Hope and a few other savage titles that I’m not even going to get up out of this chair to go verify. There are five Savages currently living in my bookshelf. I have them isolated. No telling what contagion they might pass on to the other books.
I mentioned the arrival of these packages of poop in book form to Candy, who, if it were possible to do so over IM, snickered and professed innocence to any idea that Cassie Edwards might need to find a home on my poor bookshelf. Despite the fact that each book bears a sales tag from Powell’s, which last I checked was in OREGON, the same state as presently houses CANDY (and also LILITH so do not THINK you are off the hook, ma’am), I have no concrete proof as to who set me up the bomb.
Then Candy, evil wench that she is, publicly challenged me to a duel of sorts: read a horrid book, write a review. I, of course, was conveniently gifted with a shit buffet of Edwards oeuvre, so why shouldn’t I put myself through the agony of reading one of these savage monstrosities?
Trouble was, I had to pick one. So I picked Savage Moon since the title was funny enough that perhaps laughing at it could give me a small soothing balm of comfort while I poisoned my brain. Alas, the Moon did little to help me. Thus book sucked donkey balls. There isn’t an F low enough to throw at it. I might have to modify our grading schedule and give it a Z except that the poor letter Z did nothing to deserve being permanently stuck on a Cassie Edwards novel.
Let me give you a brief plot summary: Misshi Bradley, who is really named Mitzi but her older brother has a monster of a lisp and can’t say her name so Misshi she is, thereby damning me to think of Misha Baryshnikov, is on a wagon at age 10 heading west. Her parents are dead, her siblings are dead, and the only family member left is her older brother, Dale. As expected, their wagon train is attacked by a renegade band of Shoshone Indians, lead by Chief Bear, who grabs Misshi with her wild red hair, throws her over his saddle, and rides away. Dale manages to get off one shot, which lodges in Chief Bear’s head, completely scrambling his brains, though he does manage to hold onto a squirming 10 year old tossed across his saddle.
Misshi is brought to Chief Bear’s camp but makes her escape in the fuss the others make over Chief Bear’s incapacitated state. Moments before Chief Bear and his comatose self are brought into the camp, however, Chief Bear’s wife helps their only son, Soaring Hawk, escape to form a camp of his own, because he does not approve of his fathers renegade ways. Trust me, he doesn’t approve. He says it about six time in one page.
Ten years later, when Misshi is conveniently 18 years of age, the book reveals that she’s been miraculously adopted by a neighboring Shoshone tribe and made the adopted daughter of the chief. How this was accomplished, no one knows, least of all me because the book didn’t tell me, but Misshi is a happy, dimwitted dipshit of a heroine in the Edwards mold, and has dyed her hair black with some random but powerful weed so she can blend in better with the other Shoshone.
Her adopted father turns out to be something of a mentor to Soaring Hawk, who is now a chief in his own right, and his little band of not-so-renegade-but-yet-renegade dudes has grown and remained safe and happy in their secret location. Soaring Hawk meets Misshi, their respective nether parts burst in to flame, and the obstacles they have to overcome to find their happy ending revolve around the fact that she’s white with red hair. Misshi realizes her appearance as a Shoshone is only skin deep, and she must struggle to find emotional and cultural balance between her old life, her yearning to be reunited with her brother, and her new potential life as a chief’s white wife, even IF the other members of his group accept her.
HA! I’m kidding. Honest appraisal of cultural difference? You are barking up the wrong shit tree. Not here, my friend. The obstacles facing Misshi and Soarking Hawk’s happiness stem from her brother Dale’s having gone batshit crazy while serving in the military. Vowing revenge for the kidnapping of his sister, he dresses as an Indian and attacks Indian camps and wagon trains, scalping and killing everyone in site, and saving the scalps as tribute to his lost sister. As soon as he finds Chief Bear, whom he doesn’t know has had his chiefly brains turned into a cerebral scramble, he plans on quitting his life of bloody crime and going off to St. Louis to be an opera singer.
No really. I’m not making that up.
Since I had to go through the experience of not only reading this tripe but reading it PUBLIC where people on the bus could SEE that I was reading this tripe, I figured, what better way to share my journey through the Cassie circle of hell than to excerpt my very favorite parts of the book and footnote them with my reaction. Hold your mouse over the hypertext and a small window should appear. Let me know if it doesn’t work in your browser.
Journey with me now. But take some Pepto first.
"Misshi, you are in such deep thought. What were you thinking about, little sister, that made you smile so sweetly?"
"You, big brother, you."
She reached over and placed a hand on his knee.
"Maybe I'd best not ask
what your thoughts were, but you were smiling, weren't
you?"
"It tears at my heart to know that such a man has my sister." He would hunt down Chief Bear and kill the savage himself. If... she...was still alive!
...
"Son, your tepee awaits you. Foods that you kill will cook over the flames of the fires. I have taught you not only how to be a strong leader with the right morals, but I have also taken the time to teach you the art of cooking, since you and your braves will not have mothers, or daughters, or even cousins to cook for you."
When she saw the lifeless body...she knew the one lying there was her husband. Signing with relief, for she did love the man no matter the havoc he wreaked everywhere he went, she fell to her knees.
He was devoted to his small group.... And with a woman by his side, giving him the nourishment of her love, could he not be twice the leader he was said to be today?
My heart is heavy. I cannot put everyone in danger only because the boy in me wants to go to my mother.
...
Misshi signed happily. She had adapted well to life with these kind Shoshone. She had even dyed her hair black with the stalks of a root called we-sha-sha so that she could look like an Indian. She was so very fond of her life as an Indian maiden that she was averse to the idea of going back to live in the white world.
"It seems that fate today has arranged that you and my adopted daughter should finally meet. Perhaps it is the will of the spirits. I am not one to argue with fate."
...
"My son is too astute to take such bait.... He is a man who prays and whose prayers are answered. In his prayers he sees his mother well and strong."
...
He had to see to Chief Bear's demise. Of late he had discovered he had a talent for singing. He couldn't help wondering how it would feel to perform before an audience in St. Louis's beautiful opera house.
...
He was sure she had feelings for him, and that knowledge made his loins ache with need of her. He wanted her with him always!
"Soaring Hawk, is it not time for your blankets to be warmed by a woman's body? Does not Misshi stir your loins?"
She gasped, embarrassed by Washakie's openness in speaking about Soaring Hawk's loins!
But nearby, glittering evil green eyes watched them from high above, soon to make a beautiful moon become suddenly...savage.
Because life was harsh here in Wyoming land.
...
"Do you truly think I can learn how to ride a horse again?"
"You will ride, you will feel the freedom of riding, and you will feel the joy it brings to your heart."
"When I wish to be alone with my prayers, I come to this secret place. One day, though, it will be discovered by whites."
"It is so beautiful," Misshi sighed.
A blaze of urgency filled her as his tongue continued to pleasure her in a way she would have thought forbidden. But the wild exuberant passion it created within her made her uncaring of society's rules.
"Nei-com-man-pe-ein, I love you, woman," Soaring Hawk said huskily, then crushed her lips with a heated kiss and ground his body into hers until they both moaned.
...
"Those responsible for this kill might be close enough to grab you."
"Then go and I will go with you; I shall keep my eyes closed."
...
He knew that this night would not pass without their coming together as lovers!
In Shoshone and Bannock the North Star is called Wa-se-a-ure-chah-pe, and then there is Ursa Major which his also called the Seven Stars and The Wagon. It makes its revolution around the polar star, pointing toward it. This is the secret of how my people travel by night when there is no moon."
"I love the Milky Way." I love how it is called moch-pa-achon-ka-hoo, the backbone of the sky."
"We also believe the Aurora Borealis is a cloud of fire."
Nothing had stopped Chief Bear's hate until that bullet entered the base of his skull and rendered him almost a vegetable.
Misshi turned toward White Snow Feather. She tried to ignore the resentment in the depths of the woman's eyes.
"White Snow Feather, I can never forget what Chief Bear did to my family, and I'm not sure I can ever forgive him, but if Soaring Hawk can bargain for his release, I will not interfere."
Just that quickly, the antagonism White Snow Feather had felt for Misshi was gone.
His father wasn't even aware when Soaring Hawk could no longer hold back his tears and took Chief Bear into his arms. "Oh, Father, is it I. It is Soaring Hawk who has come to take you home to Mother."
...
"This is our special night. My woman, I have not even played my flute of love for you."
He was proud of her knowledge of the Shoshone way of healing. She knew so much, no Shaman was required to ensure Soaring Hawk's health.
"See the dried material on the very tips of the sharpened stone arrowhead?" Soaring Hawk said, pointing toward it. "The points of these arrowheads have been dipped into a mixture of pulverized ants and the spleen of an animal that has been allowed to decay in the direct rays of the sun," Soaring Hawk said grimly. "This rotten mixture combined with rattlesnake venom is the deadliest of weapons."
Misshi fell to her knees. "Finding these scalps and these arrows proves that my brother has been killing whites and making it look like the work of Indians."
...
"During council, I had a premonition you weren't safe."
"Big brother, who was the true savage! You were, Dale, you were."
"These flowers will help erase the ugliness I just went through."
So there you have it: brain poison, Cassie Edwards style. I have to seriously question WHY this shit is continually published? I know the short answer is that many someones, somewhere out there, is buying this shit. But holy crap in a cover, why? How is it that this superficial, tawdry, poorly-written drivel passes as some sort of tribute to Native American culture? You know the crying Indian commercial from the 70's? He's not crying because he paddled through chemical waste and litter. He's crying because he just finished a Cassie Edwards novel that bastardized his culture into trite homilies and meaningless drivel.
Seriously, the presence of books like this on the market pisses me off. I take it personally that people are writing, marketing, and selling this crap because it is so utterly and completely terrible, it's culturally offensive, it's poorly written, and it's so very much the reason why romance novels have such a bad reputation. It's insulting to Native Americans, and it's insulting to me. F this book, literally.
by Candy • Friday, June 01, 2007 at 04:37 AM
Our Grade:
Title: Stardust
Author: Neil Gaiman
Publication Info: Harper Perennial 2006, ISBN: 0061142026
Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy
The setting: The town of Wall, which lies hard by the boundary of Faerie, and every nine years, the site of a Faerie Market.
Also, assorted locations in Faerie.
Our Intrepid Hero: Tristran Thorn, a sweet but awkward and somewhat gormless young man of mysterious lineage.
Our Intrepid Heroine: Yvaine, a rather no-nonsense fallen star.
Summarize the plot in one unwieldy run-on sentence that abuses commas and semi-colons with merry abandon: Clueless young man deep in the throes of an infatuation makes a rash promise to retrieve a fallen star for his light o’ love and leaves the known world for the uncharted, unpredictable wildness of Faerie, where he encounters (among other things) a hairy little man(ish sort of creature), two witches, a talking tree, several ghosts (whom he never sees), a prince, a fallen star, assorted inhabitants of Faerie and a partridge in a pear tree (OK, I might be lying about the last); uncovers a hidden talent or two; finds what he thinks he’s looking for; discovers he’s braver and capable of much more than he ever thought possible; loses a great deal of his awkwardness and gains +10 Gormfulness; and ultimately discovers that his heart’s desire isn’t quite what he thought it was.
Also, he learns the truth about his heritage.
CRAP! That was more than one sentence. I lose.
So, what did you think? Oh my Jesus. I love this book like...words fail me. Like bike nuts loves fixies. Like a pirate loves booty. Like hipsters love vinyl and irony. Like emo kids love the taste of bitter, bitter tears.
Dude, aren’t you a little late on the Gaiman-love bandwagon? Well, kind of, but kind of not. See, I bought this book when it first came out. I was introduced to Gaiman via Good Omens, and The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish cemented my desire to glom his backlist, so I went ahead and bought all his published novels. Which were, at the time, Stardust and Neverwhere.
Uh huh. And it took you HOW long to get around to reading this? Shut up.
...OK, about nine years. It’s been so long, the edition I have is completely out of print and I have to link to the froofy trade paperback edition on Amazon because that’s what’s available right now. What’s wrong with me? Seriously. *cries*
Your self-flagellation tires me. Y’know, for a construct I ripped off from mightygodking’s Livejournal movie reviews, you’re kind of a…
Yeah yeah yeah. Whatevs. What did you like best? The Faerie universe Gaiman creates. The dude really, really knows how to build a world that’s not only convincing, but that makes me actively wish that the world actually exists. This hasn’t happened to me in a very, very long time, and it has to do with Gaiman’s uncanny ability to tap into the bits of my brain that read with the wide-eyed wonder and credulity of a child. In the past several years, I’ve read books that were better-written than Stardust--ones that touched me more, that made me think harder, that moved me to take action in ways that Stardust never can--but none have made me ache with the wish that the world between their pages was real; none of them made me wonder that if I closed my eyes and walked across the field full of frogs behind my apartment on a night with a full moon, I might open my eyes to find a girl with cat’s-ears and purple eyes, a fine silver chain snaking from her ankle and across the grass.
In fact, just about the only complaint I have about the story is that I want more of it. Gaiman wantonly strews seeds of potential short stories--entire novels, actually--throughout the book. Where did the Lilim come from? How are they ended? And all those lovely, exciting adventures that Tristran and Yvaine go on while making their way back to Wall and the market, and before they return to You-Know-Where at the end so they could become You-Know-What--I want to read about those, too, dammit, instead of having them summarized in short paragraphs. They’re perfectly lovely paragraphs, and they did their job in the usual fairy tale-ish way, but gah I want more more more dagnabbit when’s he going to write another book set in this world and eeeeeeeeeeeeee.
You’re alarmingly squeaky when you gush. Well, shit yeah. I also get squeaky when I’m indignant. I’m short. I’m high-pitched. Squeaky is kind of the default tone you get with me.
And what did you think of the ending? It was perfect. I loved its slight bittersweetness, and I liked that Gaiman didn’t cop out and wrap everything up with too neat a bow.
This is a stupid question, but I’m going to ask it anyway: So, I guess you highly recommend this book? As my friend Katie would say: Hell ass tits goddamn motherfucking YES. In fact, if you’re an even bigger loser than I am and haven’t read this book yet, and if you’re in any way a fan of fairy tales--not those watered-down namby-pamby ripoffs of the Brothers Grimm you see nowadays, but a fairy tale with teeth, sharp sharp teeth--then I highly recommend that you buy, borrow or steal a copy of this book and read it. Read it now.
