Discovery

SPOILER ALERT: All seven Harry Potter novels

I am a nanny. During the day, it is just me and the littlest kiddo, who is 15 months. In the afternoons, I get her brother, T, who, despite his lack of Robin Hood knowledge, is a generally good kid. I've gently coaxed him this year into almost enjoying reading, and had the pleasure of introducing him to the (life-changing? spectacular? mind-blowing?) Harry Potter novels.

It is an amazing thing to watch, in him, the same process I went through when I was first discovering the books. He hasn't seen the movies. He doesn't know about Snape killing Dumbledore, about Voldemort coming back, about Umbridge and her detestable faux-sweetness, about the epic battles that make up the last three books. I sincerely hope no one spoils it for him.

He is most of the way through the third book, and is still where we all were, thinking Sirius Black a murderer, not knowing about the Time-Turner or that Lupin is a werewolf, certainly not realizing Scabber's true identity. Voldemort is still, at this point, a bad guy in the distance, his return not even a possibility on the horizon. T is busy coming up with theories, most of the dead wrong, but who's theories weren't dead wrong at this point?

I am loving his shock at each new revelation, his loyalties toward certain characters, and his predictions of what is to come.

Potter for President, that's what.

BOOK REVIEW: The Road

My first RIP V review! YAY

The Road.

Post-apocalyptic.

Pulitzer Prize.

Viggo Mortenson.

Wait. Strike that last one. He's only in the movie.

This was my first foray into the world of Pulitzer Prize-winners, a genre that always brings to mind stuffy men in monocles, smoking pipes and saying things like "Good show!" and "Right-O Old Chap"

I'm really not sure what that says about me.

The Road is about as far from that image as I think it is possible to be. Except maybe Christopher Moore. But I think we all know he's not winning a Pulitzer anytime soon.

Anyway.

The Road.

I had a hard time, at first, deciding whether or not I was enjoying the book. On the one hand, it is dark and depressing and there is so little humor or happiness in it. It's very gray reading, if that makes any sense.

On the other, the love between the father and son, the struggle to continue living and surviving, the pure effort that each day brings, is so incredibly palpable that this book is almost impossible to put down.

As with any post-apocalyptic novel, there is the occasional step into man's inhumanity to man, but it never becomes the whole story. The cannibalism, theft and murder that some of the world has descended into is only ever a step along the journey, the trouble of one day before moving onto the next. I appreciated this in the book. I also appreciated that nothing was solved. This was not a story about fixing a broken world or rebuilding one society from the ashes of another. It was the story of one man wandering the world with one boy, trying not to make a new life, but to survive the old one for as long as they can.

I wouldn't call this "Pleasure Reading", necessarily. I didn't really enjoy it in the traditional way that one enjoys a book, and to say that I enjoyed a book that contains so much darkness and unhappiness would sound almost like sacrilege anyway.

The best I can say about The Road is that, while not really an "enjoyable" book, it is a good book. Maybe even a great one.

Highly recommended as a one-time read.

RIP V Challenge: The Book List

After many recommendations from the wonderful readers in my life, I have chosen the four books I will be reading for the challenge.

1. The Road by Cormac McCarthy

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Recommended by: My SIL, Sara

I'm 95 pages in, and while it is slow going, It's a very good read so far. It took me a little while to get used to the fact that Mr. McCarthy doesn't use quotations and that the Man and the Boy don't have actual names, but I've gotten over it and everything is alright again.
Also, every time I read the author's name, I misread it as Cormac McLaggen, who is a fictional Hogwarts student, not an author. I have read Harry Potter far to many times.
2. The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova

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Recommended by: Goodreads

It's about Vampires (sort of), and who doesn't love a good vampire story?

3. Interview with a Vampire by Anne Rice
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Recommended by: My Uncle Lance

His actual recommendation was "Anything by Anne Rice", and this seems to be one of those "read before you die" books.

4. Firestarter by Stephen King

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Recommended by: My mother and sister

I've never read anything by Stephen King, but apparently this particular title is very Koontz-esque, and I do love Dean Koontz.

I have the first one on loan from my SIL, and the other three waiting for me at the library. Should be a good two months.

RIP V Challenge

I'm not sure how I didn't know things like this existed, but they DO!

It's like Christmas in September.

Image Source and Also to figure out what I'm talking about

By "things like this", I mean book challenges. I like nothing better than to be given guidelines. I love them. Put me in a library and say "pick anything you want", and I crumble into an incoherent wreck, rocking in the corner. Say "find something that means guidelines x, y and z", and I'm a kid on a scavenger hunt.

It's totally healthy and well-adjusted of me, I'm sure.

I don't normally read scary books (unless you count Harry Potter as scary, which I do which no self-respecting adult does), but I am at the end of my to-be-read shelf, and I need inspiration. This challenge seems like just the thing. Plus, it forces me to read outside my quite narrow book-comfort zone. I'm not really sure where to begin. It feels like cheating to start with something like Twilight, which, while about vampires, is about sparkly vampires, which negates the whole "scary" thing a bit. I do like Sherlock Holmes quite a bit, and that seems like a relatively calm entrance into the world of spooky/scary/creepy stories. I must let myself in gently.

I'll try very very hard to remember to review the books as I read them. This isn't strictly a "book blog", but who am I kidding? I rarely talk about, you know, my life on here. Mostly I just talk to you about books I read, movies I watch and my feet swelling for no apparent reason.

The point is, I'm enabling my terrible habit of writing about books rather than about me. This is a terrible thing for me to do, as no one could ever have enough me.

I'm still going to do it. Scary books! Scary book reviews! Book Challenge!

Huzzah!

30 Day Blog Challenge is a bust

Well, I've given up.

I was bored, and I couldn't imagine that you, who are not living my life, could be interested in the challenge if I was not.

I'm sorry if you were.

So, here's the update on my life, since that's what blogging is really all about.

Today is the first day of my new part-time second job. I'm still nannying during the day, and now, some days, I'll be driving over to a local public school, picking up J, a sweet little girl who I've known since she was four and keeping her until 10:30 or so. It's by no means steady work, but it is extra cash, and I'm in for anything that will get our debt paid off earlier than expected.

Credit card debt is what's wrong with America. Or at least, it's what's wrong in our house. And it's standing in the way of my new hardwood floors.

Currently reading: The Keys to the Kingdom series by Garth Nix. It's reminding me of Twilight a bit, honestly, in that I recognize that this isn't great literature, and it's not even particularly good writing (odd, since I love Garth Nix), but the story is so engaging that I don't want to stop. Also The Golden Compass by Phillip Pullman, much to the disgust of Jerry Falwell and Christian leaders everywhere.

30 Before 30 update: I'm trying to work more consistently on my manuscript. It's going well in my head, but my brain, lacking thumbs, cannot hold a pen, and when I try to transfer thoughts from brain to hand, it comes out sounding a bit like literary Jell-O.

Husband update: He is still yummy and wonderful.

Camera update: I need one. badly.

30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 4

My Favorite Book

I have seven, actually:

It sounds hokey, but I am not exaggerating when I say that this series changed my life. Kind of. Maybe I'm exaggerating a little.

It's still amazing.

I've written on this blog about these books, which is a feat, let me tell you, considering that they usually just render me speechless. If you go back to about February, you'll find the Harry Potter re-read posts.

On second though, don't even do that. Just go read them. Again.

My preferences, in descending order:

7. Chamber of Secrets
6. Sorcerers Stone
5. Goblet of Fire
4. Order of the Phoenix
3. Prisoner of Azkaban
2. Half-Blood Prince
1. Deathly Hallows

Literary Twin

About six nine twelve a long time ago, somewhere or other, I was asked who my literary twin was. And when I say I, I mean that I was part of a large poll that included the question "Who do you feel is your literary twin?"

I don't know what I answered, but whatever it was, I was wrong.

I know I was wrong because I know I didn't answer "Anne Shirley", and there is no question that she and I are the same person, barring hair color. And a BA.

I have just reread four of the eight Anne novels by LM Montgomery, and I giggled as I read, just because I was seeing myself in the pages. Idealistic, dramatic, prone to stopping in the middle of a task because my imaginings had gotten in the way. It's as if someone bottled my childhood character and wrote a book about her.

It isn't even just my childhood character, though. I still imagine things, constantly. Ridiculous things, too, the same as Anne. I am only slightly less vocal about it than she is, and I don't believe I ever kissed a flower.

I even married Gilbert Blythe, although he says his name is Paul.

The funny thing is that, as I have grown up, I see more of Marilla Cuthbert in myself, especially in the way I deal with the children I care for. No-nonsense, firm, not given to flights of fancy EVER. I was a bit appalled at fist, but I'm not altogether sure that it's a bad thing. I just have to be careful to temper the Marilla with the Anne.

I do love reading the Anne books. I feel that, if I could only step through the pages into her world, she and I would be "kindred spirits" together.

30 BEFORE 30: The Lord of the Rings

I finished The Fellowship of the Ring not five minutes ago. I won't waste time with a review. Suffice to say that Everyone should, at some point, read The Lord of the Rings. Read The Hobbit first, though, or you'll be completely lost.

I watched the film adaptations of LOTR before I read the novels. I don't usually do this, but, when the movies came out, I was 14 and had already attempt to read the books, only to find that, even with my advanced reading abilities, they were beyond me. Even now, at 23, it took me a good two and a half weeks to get through.

Reading this after watching the movies has given me new appreciation for Peter Jackson. With the exception of Tom Bombadil, the film is incredibly true to the book.

But we aren't talking about the film.

Let me just talk about Mr. Bombadil for a moment. What a fantastic character. He is silly and ridiculous, while somehow managing to also be wise and powerful. My favorite part of his character, however, is his love for his wife, Goldberry. It isn't the main point, or even a secondary point in the passage, but every time Tom speaks, he ends his thoughts with some variation on "I have to get home, Goldberry is waiting!" It just struck me as so tender and sweet.

I very much enjoyed this reading, now that now that I've given it the attention it deserves.

Onward, now, to The Two Towers. See you in two weeks.

BOOK REVIEW: Graceling

I finished Graceling, by Kristin Cashore this week. I'm really enjoying what's happening in the Young Adult Genre recently. Stories in that area are becoming more imaginative and adventurous. It's refreshing.

So. Graceling. My husband bought it for me for my birthday this year, and I powered through it in about a day and a half (If one thing can be said for the young adult sector, its that the books are easy to get through).

In 10 words or less, the world in the book is populated by normal people (the ungraced), and a handful of "Graced", or people who are distinguished by a special gift. Katsa, our main character, is a Graced fighter, with speed, skill and stamina to spare. She and Po, the male lead, travel together to discover the mystery behind the kidnap of Po's grandfather. On the journey, they discover a terrible secret about a neighboring king and set out to rescue his young daughter from his treachery.

The story has many great points. It's a story of bravery, friendship, love, and discovering the fact that, even when you feel trapped by circumstance, you have choices. The characters were crafted beautifully, with all the shortcomings that make a good character seem real and human. It had all the ingredients of a great story.

Then I met Katsa. Don't get me wrong. Our female protagonist is strong and brave and wants, more than anything, to fight for what is right in the world.

However...

Katsa drove me to distraction, she did. I have little patience for protagonists who will insist that they need NO ONE's help, that they are not DESERVING, they are not WORTH it. Obnoxious is what it is. Also that she has decided that she will never marry, so she and her love interest decide that the obvious solution is to simply be each others lover. That way, there is no commitment, but they can be....intimate. I'm sorry, but really? Maybe I'm a prude or old-fashioned, or whatever, but that seems like a shady message to be putting in a book aimed at teenagers. A sequel is coming out, though, so maybe she'll change her mind.

It's a decent read, but I recommend checking it out from the library rather than purchasing.

Memoirs

I do love a good memoir. Unfortunately for any memoir, I measure them against the writings of Frank McCourt, which makes for a rather unfair standard. Frank McCourt is amazing. Really amazing. For a memoir, being compared to Frank McCourt is like being told to paint a picture with the knowledge that you will be compared against Renoir. It's really just not fair. But have you read his books? He mixes tragedy and comedy so perfectly. I have found myself laughing and crying AT THE SAME TIME while reading his books. If you haven't read them, I highly recommend each one. They truly are phenomenal.

Anyway, the point is that I am currently splitting my time between two memoirs (and The Book Thief. It's an obnoxious little bugger, always begging for attention, but I don't want to hurt its feelings), one by Kristin Chenowith and the other by Ellen Degeneres. I'm enjoying them both (sort of), but am having varying amounts of success getting through them. Ms. Chenowith's is cute and breezy, like her, but I'm finding a hard time really caring. It just isn't as engaging as I might like. I read it because she is a goddess on Broadway and because I someday plan to steal her vocal cords for my own. Ellen Degeneres's book is side-splittingly funny, but is written as a string of essays, rather than as a narrative, which I always find a bit unnerving. I get emotionally involved in a story, and suddenly it changes, and we never get any resolution. What on earth is a girl to do?

Oh dear, I seem to have never come to the point. I'm not entirely sure I had one in the first place.

Whiny-Pants

I knew this was going to happen.

The year started off great. I was reading a book every few days, actually internalizing almost everything, getting emotionally involved in everything I read (Except Multiple Blessings. I'm almost positive that Kate Gosselin is an automaton)

And yet, here we are. I have been slowing down in my reading since April, and I haven't been able to read anything since "It Sucked, and the I Cried". Incidentally, this isn't like when I read Harry Potter and then take a reading fast for two weeks. That has everything to do with being mentally exhausted and grief-stricken. This has to do with being in a rut. I shouldn't be in a rut, you know. School is over, summer is here, Glee and The Big Bang Theory are both wrapping up seasons, leaving my weeknights wide open. I do have Lost on my XBOX, but, really, how addicting can it possibly be? The point is, I want to read. I love to read. I just can't find anything that is hooking me in.

I tried "Running with Scissors". Not happening for me. At all. I hated the first 10 pages, pushed through to 50, and decided life is too short to read books I clearly hate.

Then David Sedaris's "Me Talk Pretty Someday". It came highly recommended, but reads like someone telling a story you don't really want to hear. What's worse is that everyone but you thinks the story is fantastic, and you're left wondering if its you or the world who has the problem.

The the first book of the Pendragon Cycle, "Merchant of Death". Promising, but as much as I love Young Adult fantasy, even I need a break now and again.

So, here we are. Me and "The Book Thief". Young Adult. Fiction. World War II.

Sounds like a possible winner. But it's sitting in the other room, and I'm talking to you people. I'm avoiding it. Like that kid in high school who was a tiny bit creepy and wanted to take you to homecoming. You know he's there, you would just rather he didn't look at you and breath all heavy.

Sherlock

All I wanted was a copy of A Study in Scarlet by Sir Aurthur Conan Doyle. It's not a huge request. But, apparently, libraries only stock like, four copies of classics in a library system of six buildings.

My library does not stock A Study in Scarlet...by itself.

No, I went in for a Sherlock Holmes book and found myself exiting with a textbook-sized behemoth labeled "The Annotated Sherlock Holmes, VOLUME 1!!!" It's 688 pages of maps, introductions, and annotated narrative, rather than just, you know, a book. Every time I open it, I feel like I should be taking notes for an analysis of Mr. Holmes's cocaine addiction (which he totally has, by the way. Homeboy uses cocaine, opium, constantly smokes. Why do we even like him? Oh, yes, because he's played by Robert Downy Jr. Yum).

Reading this version is really like watching a movie you've never seen before while being forced to listen to the audio commentary. You can probably pick up the general idea of what's going on, but you don't catch the better part of it, because you're too distracted by the director going on about how wonderful he is. Only in this case, it's lots of academics who just luuurve Sir A.C.D and would like to gush about him in the footnotes. Except they aren't footnotes, it is precisely half the page, divided vertically, so that I find myself accidentally skipping from narrative to notes midsentence. Furthermore, the notes assume that you have not only read, but are familiar with the entire adventures of Sherlock Holmes, and make little asides to things with nary so much as a spoiler alert. Thanks a ton, William S. Baring-Gould.

Also, I have a habit of accidentally filling my head with little anecdotes and then popping them off in everyday conversation, invariably lading to that head-bob everyone does when someone has effectively ended a conversation, causing the dreaded "awkward silence" It's terrible, and I, knowing myself, know that I will somehow have managed to make this happen with my new found Holmesian knowledge before the month is out.

In spite of all this, I love Sherlock Holmes. I do. He is such a fantastically ridiculous character, and I love him. I truly do.

I also checked out Crime and Punishment, written by a Russian man whose name I can't quite pronounce. Apparently I have gone on a Classics reading kick that I forgot to inform myself about.

BOOK REVIEW: The Hunger Games

Awhile back, I spent time cheating on the NE Florida Nest board and wandered over to the Nest Book Club board. (FYI: it turns out I'm a one-board kind of girl.) While there, I heard a ton about a series called The Hunger Games. I didn't give it much thought until I was in Barnes and Noble with my mother and saw it sitting, quite unassuming, on the Young Adult shelf. To pass the time, I pulled it off the shelf and skimmed the back cover.



I like to think that I was hooked from there.

Here's what the goodreads description says:

"In a future North America, where the rulers of Panem maintain control through an annual televised survival competition pitting young people from each of the twelve districts against one another, sixteen-year-old Katniss's skills are put to the test when she voluntarily takes her younger sister's place."

I don't know what has happened to the young adult genre since I was a young adult, but whatever it is, I LIKE IT. Susanna Collins pulls no punches. This book is ruthless and bloody and real while at the same time managing to pull every heartstring you possess, but in a non-sappy way. I haven't been so incredibly engrossed in a book since the last time I read Harry Potter. I can't say that last part too loud though. It sounds like sacrilege. As the book ended, I was suddenly grateful to one of my sweet librarians who, upon checking this book out to me said "I'm going to go ahead and just reserve you the second book. You're going to want it." How very right she was.

Hunger Games kept my attention for all of four hours, which was the amount of time it took me to read from start to finish. I'm not bragging about my reading ability. I am, admittedly, a quick reader, but Hunger Games flew by for me because it was so quick to pull me in and engage me in a highly imaginative storyline. The villain is a society that one can truly bring itself to hate, while still finding sympathy for those who have been fooled and twisted by its lies.

Lovely.

PS: I just finished the fourth Odd Thomas Book. If Dean Koontz doesn't put out the fifth one soon, I'm going to march myself out to California and stage a sit-in.

Koontz-ophilia

I've never much liked suspense or mystery novels. They make me feel a bit dumb, to be honest. I have no eye for detail, which means that I miss all the clues that would lead me to the inevitable conclusion. They also tend to make me paranoid. I read Shutter Island, and for several days, was nearly convinced that everything I was seeing was an elaborate setup concocted by my caregivers. Paul thought I had gone a bit off my rocker, but c'est la vie.

Dean Koontz is well on his way to changing all that. While I still have no desire (at ALL) to read any other suspense or mystery novelists work, I am devouring every Koontz novel I come across.

It started with Odd Thomas, which I listened to in my car. David Aaron Baker is far to old to ever play Oddy in a movie, but his voice is perfection in the role. The story sucked me in from the beginning, I had my mind completely blown at the climax, and I cried like a baby at the end. I powered through Forever Odd and Brother Odd, as well as picking up False Memories, Prodigal Son and City of Night.

What I love about his books is that, for the most part, you find out what is going on right away, because (with the exception of the Odd Thomas books), the story is told from the side of the protagonist and the antagonist. Even while the protagonist is muddling away tyring to piece everything together, the reader is, for the most, in the loop. Which, by the way, makes the occasional surprises even that more shocking when they are revealed. those surprises, though, are wonderfully satisfying, because they tend to come out of nowhere. You don't spend half the book worrying over them before they come to pass. They just jump into the story out of the ether to make sure your mind has been sufficiently blown.

Another element that I have fallen in love with is that of multiple narrators. Usually I find it a bit frustrating, with all the jumping about from point-of-view to point-of-view, but Koontz does it just enough that it moves the story along without feeling sluggish or complicated, even in the Frankenstein series, which, at my last count, has gone through something like eleven narrators, though at the moment, he is only using six.

I have found myself suggesting Dean Koontz to anyone and everyone who has the misfortune of asking me for a book recommendation. He has been added to my list of go-to authors, a rather short list, if truth be told. Francine Rivers is on it, as well as CS Lewis and Christopher Moore, when I am feeling generous. The Odd Thomas books have been added to my list of "read-agains", joining the ranks of Alice in Wonderland, The Hobbit, Life of Pi, Redeeming Love, and, at the very top, almost out of reach of any others, the Harry Potter series.

PS: He's also good if you are studying for the SAT's. Macabre? Paladin? Not everyday words, if you ask me.

Halfway...

As of March 29, I am halfway to my goal of 100 books in 2010.



HUZZAH



Originally, I was going to post a whole collage of the book covers of the 50 books I have read. Then I remembered that I don't have time for that kind of nonsense. SO, we are giving out prizes instead for books that stood out to me. We'll call them the Raizers



In the category of Cried-Like-A-Baby

Nominees:

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Redeeming Love

Odd Thomas

Echo in the Darkness



Winner: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Without giving away the ending, I cried for, triumphs as well as tragedies, for joy and for sadness, and was left with a sense of loss as well as fulfillment when I put the book down. Odd Thomas gets an honorable mention for making me bawl my eyes out in the front seat of my car, in my driveway, making my neighbors think I am mentally unhinged,



For Made-Me-Paranoid-as-an-Agoraphobic-Chihuahua

World War Z

Shutter Island

I, Robot



Winner: Shutter Island. While World War Z did make me a bit wary of the woods and cause me to check my back seat for the undead, Shutter Island had me seriously contemplating my own sanity and wondering if everything happening was only a part of my own psyche. I have never been so suspicious of my husband in my life.



For I-Had-A-Hard-Time-Not-Lighting-the-Book-on-Fire

Never Let Me Go

InkHeart

Multiple Blessings



Winner: Just all of them. Never Let me Go was horrific, and Multiple Blessing was an eyeroll beginning to end. InkHeart was redeemable only because it was an interesting plot made horrible by sub par writing.



Top Five Books of THE FIRST HALF:



5. Water for Elephants - Beautifully engaging, richly charactered, sentimental without being sappy, and an elephant as a heroine. How can you go wrong?



4. Life of Pi - I believe this book is on the 1001 books to read before you die list, and for good reason. So imaginative, and thoughtful enough to make you wonder if you are living your life purposefully and with love and faith. Beautiful.

3. Outlander - I have never fallen in love with a hero quicker than I fell in love with Jamie Fraser. Even when he's beating Clare senseless, I couldn't help but love him. The story is intricate, sometime maddeningly so, but the beauty of the storytelling and the romance of the love story makes it completely worth it

2. Redeeming Love - Francine Rivers is one of my favorite authors, and this is only one of three of her books that I read this half. The love between the two main characters (or, more accurately, the love the male lead has for the female lead) is so pure, so beautiful, so selfless. The idea of taking someone back, no, actively seeking someone who has betrayed you, with the intention of taking them back and loving them, is so foreign, but at the same time so perfectly right. I cried buckets at the end, by the way.

1. Odd Thomas - I cannot say enough about this book. I don't even know what to say other than READ IT.

My Literary Loves

I have a habit that my husband just hates. Don't get me wrong. I understand why he does it, and if he did it, I would hate it too.

I fall in love with other men. Often.

Happily, there is no way for Paul to feel threatened by this, because none of the men are real. They are all characters in literature. Paul hates it, mostly because he feels compared to them, and feels like I get angry if he isn't perfect, but it isn't that. I like to think that I see my sweet husband in some of these men, and that is why I love them so.

It could also be that Jamie Fraser's accent is oh-so-yummy.

I love many men, all for different reasons.

I love Jamie Fraser for his passion, his ability to vocalize what he is feeling, his intense protectiveness, his love of God and his accent

I love Odd Thomas for his unfailing sense of humor, his humility, his conviction of what is right, and his unending singlemindedness in love

I love Edward Cullen for his intensity and his old-fashioned ideas about what love should be.

I love the Weasley Twins for their unfailing sense of humor in the face of death, their enterprising spirit, their bravery and, in the end, their sacrifice

I love Marcus Valerian for his hard-headedness, his willingness, in the end, to buck tradition and marry a slave, his love that carried him to Judea in search of a faceless God, and his zeal for Christ at the end.

and finally

I love Mr. Darcy, because really, who doesn't?




As a end note, I love my Paul because he is Paul, and he is mine.

BOOK REVIEW: The Host

Just finished The Host by Stephanie Meyer and let my just say, Hallelujah, she does have some writing ability. After reading the cluster f*** that was Breaking Dawn, I was quite worried.

I won't go so far as to call it "great", but the moral dilemma brought up was interesting. I grew up reading Animorphs, which is essentially the same concept. Alien invaders = tiny wormy creatures that need a host to survive. Only these creatures, which call themselves "Souls" aren't malevolent, the way the Animorphs Yearks are. They come to various planets in hopes of exploration, colonization and learning, rather than conquest. None of their previous planets have had the force of will, the feeling of individual or the concept of freedom needed to put up a struggle or form a resistance, so it felt more (I assume) like cohabitation than hostile takeover. Enter the Human Race. Apparently the Human race has a higher emotional platform than other species (speci?), which means that the takeover on Earth requires more work, and that there are humans who fight back. The Main character, named Wanderer, is placed in a host, Melanie, who does just that. But instead of feeling hatred toward Wanderer, who is, undeniably, a parasite, we feel conflicted. We know Melanie deserves her freedom, but is it really Wanderer's fault that she can't survive without a host? She doesn't want to cause pain. She honestly thinks she is doing the right thing, and when the knowledge that the human race is not a good candidate for takeover makes itself apparent, she attempts to put things right. It's an interesting look at what happens when two sides conflict, but neither is inherently wrong. We are so accustomed to every story having a clear bad side and a clear good side, but I think Meyer's point is that sometimes there is no clear winner in the moral battle. Sometimes (read: almost always), both sides have heroes, both sides have monsters, and neither side has a monopoly on "right". This story is one of the few I know of that truly gives both sides of the coin.

Also, it turns out that Mrs. Meyer has bought herself a dictionary and looked up the word chagrin, because not only did she only use the word once, but she used it in the correct context.
For those of you who haven't read Twilight, Bella is constantly "chagrined". Even when she's not.

Literary Constipation

I'm blogging a lot today. Possibly because I'm not reading, which is quite the anomaly for me.

I've picked up several books since my HP re-read, and haven't been able to hook into any of them. It's a bit discouraging, really. And obnoxious. There is nothing worse than wanting to read, sitting down with a book, and finding yourself unable to care about anything that is going on. Perhaps I am still distraught over poor Fred.

Books I have tried (and failed) to read over the last week and a half:

- Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carrol
- The Host by Stephanie Meyer
- Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne
- City of Ashes by Cassandra Clare
- My Life in France by Julia Child

My brain is feeling a bit slushy in it's disuse. Soon it will be sloshing about in my skull and running out my ears.

Enjoy that visual this lunch hour.

Au revoir.

Harry Potter re-read: A finale

I shouldn't even say this, but, as always, possible, probable spoilers





There's little to say about Deathly Hallows. Actually, there's too much to say about Deathly Hallows, but it amounts to the same thing. The range of subject matter and emotion could, with a lesser author, make a book terribly convoluted, where this one, while complex, never leaves you with a sense of "wait...what?". Except in the good way that JK Rowling is so good at.

The romance is beautiful, the death truly heartbreaking, and the triumph exhilarating. I close Deathly Hallows almost mournfully, saying goodbye to these amazing characters.

Whenever I finish the final Harry Potter book, I sit weepily for a few hours, lamenting over the fact that it isn't real. ho-hum.

PS: A lot of people hated the epilogue. I quite liked it. It gave closure.

Harry Potter re-read; an update

Spoilers. yup.




Half Blood Prince makes me weep. Big, fatty, mournful tears.
I'm not even sure what to say about this book, except that JK Rowling, beginning with the fifth book, took the series to a whole new level of epic. Suddenly it's not just a little boy with not so little issues. Now we're tackling the price of war, the fact that sometimes everything does NOT end up ok, and sometimes, it's not fair who lives and who dies.

Before discussing the big moments, though, how wonderful is the normalcy of school life? Harry still has to deal with difficulties on the Qudditch pitch, piles of homework and the madness of the inner workings of the female mind. Life does not stop moving simply because evryone is in mortal peril. It's so beautifully, perfectly, adolescently normal. Now, onto business.

Dumbledore's death makes me dissolve into tears every time I read it, because it just isn't fair. This book is our first look into Dumbledore as a real, fallible human being, rather than a mentor and benevolent patriarch. He has pain and suffering, he has a past, he makes mistakes, and this is our first chance to see that, and suddenly, he's gone. The sense of hopelessness at his death is awful. Through the entire series, we've gotten the feeling that Dumbledore is all that stood between Voldemort and the Wizarding world. With him gone, that protection ceases to exist. Plus, Rowling's descriptions of the grief each character feels is beautiful and painful at the same time...Hagrid, especially. This huge man, sobbing as though his heart has broken, is somehow more heartbreaking to me than any of the rest of it.

What I love about Rowling is how sympathetic she makes her villains. Voldemort is one of the most hateful, horrific villains ever created, and yet, in the reading of HBP, one finds themselves almost feeling sorry for him. What a terrible childhood, a terrible life. Malfoy, too. We never feel an ounce of sympathy for Malfoy until this book, when we find that, though he has chosen a master who knows nothing of love, Draco does not lack the ability to feel it and act on it himself, as he seeks to do exactly the wrong thing for precisely the right reasons. Murder is never acceptable, but what choice can he feel that he has when the threat of his parents death looms over him? Suddenly, this irrefutably obnoxious bully of a boy is the object of our anger, but also of our pity, and hopefully, of our empathy. What would we do in the same situation? I think Rowling's point is that very few people are truly evil. Mean, yes. Bullies, yes. Foul and terrible, yes, even that. But for the most, even beyond the prejudices and the cruelty, there lies a humanity and an ability for love and compassion, even if it is limited to one's own family.

Sigh. I always have to take a little while after this book before I read anything else...Deathly Hallows IS out in my car, though, and there's really no point wasting time...