Tag Archives: 50BookPledge2011

The Knife of Never Letting Go (Chaos Walking Book One), Patrick Ness #50BookPledge

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Imagine a world where you can hear what everyone else is thinking, and they can hear everything you are thinking. You can’t shut it off, it’s an endless barrage of Noise, and most of what you hear are thoughts of pain and grief. That’s how it is in Prentisstown, where all the female settlers are dead and the Noise virus has left the males with the ability to hear each other’s thoughts and the thoughts of animals.

The only remaining boy in a town of men, Todd Hewitt is a month away from his thirteenth birthday and officially becoming an adult when he and his dog Manchee encounter an odd pocket of Quiet near a river. When Todd’s adoptive fathers Ben and Cillian find out about it, they pack Todd some food and his mother’s journal and order him to take Manchee and get as far from Prentisstown as possible. Turns out that a lot of what Todd believes is actually a lie, and Prentisstown has a terrible secret in its past, and the Mayor is pulling out all the stops to bring Todd back.

Knife is a powerful book, especially because we’re thrust right into Todd’s perspective. I especially love the scenes where the book describes the Noise – the overlapping lines of text in varying fonts are a veritable cacophony. I’m usually a big fan of e-reading, but the image of Noise contained within the mechanical boundaries of the e-reader screen just does not compare to the splash of words words words practically spilling over the edge of the page. Patrick Ness uses this sparingly – most of the time, he focuses on a particular character’s Noise, signified by a different font – and when he does, we are just sucked into the chaos that Todd must endure every day. Faced with the visual representation of this chaos, we can feel the desperation in Todd’s constant repetition of the mantra “I am Todd Hewitt.”

Todd speaks in a rough dialect, and Ness expresses this through his spelling. I normally don’t mind deliberate misspellings as long as the purpose is clear and consistent, and I was fine with a lot of it in Knife (e.g. “yer” instead of “your”). For some reason, “-tion” spelled “-shun” (e.g. “stayshun” instead of “station”) really bugged me, and I think it’s because I’d imagined this narrative to be primarily oral (Todd is literally telling his story) and I don’t hear enough of a difference to justify that particular misspell. That being said, about a third of the way through, I hardly even noticed it anymore, which I guess means the book really did suck me in completely. Interestingly, Todd later meets a character whose pronunciation is more conventional, and when that character tries to correct Todd’s grammar, Todd gets very defensive. I liked that; Todd’s dialect then became not just a writing gimmick, but more of a cultural stance. A friend told me he saw the unconventional spelling and grammar in Knife to mean that the old rules, what we thought of as rules in our world, just no longer applied.

Minor comment, I love how Manchee’s speech is limited mostly to “Poo” and “Squirrel.” So many books with talking animals treat them mostly as humans in animal form. I have no problem with animals able to speak intelligently (I love Snoopy, for example), but limiting Manchee’s language makes him just a creature of such boundless joy and friendship, a welcome Noise of innocence and happiness in such a confusing, dangerous world.

Ultimately, Knife works because it dares to ask the questions: how far are you willing to go to survive, and how far can you go without losing yourself? Faced with the opportunity to kill a man who wants to kill him, Todd says “But a knife ain’t just a thing, is it? It’s a choice, it’s something you do. A knife says yes or no, cut or not, die or don’t. A knife takes a decision out of your hand and puts it in the world and it never goes back again.” The decision of whether or not to kill has even more significance than Todd can begin to imagine, and he faces this decision over and over as he struggles for survival. Having a knife becomes a moral dilemma, one that haunts Todd and forces him to reflect on what makes a boy into a man.

It’s a fantastic book, first in the Chaos Walking trilogy. It felt a bit long at some points, but just when my attention drifted, something major happened that snapped me right back in. Knife ends on a cliff-hanger, with a very interesting, unexpected development that promises an exciting beginning to Book Two.

Wonder, Robert J. Sawyer #50BookPledge

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Wonder by Robert J. Sawyer makes you think without offering any easy answers. Sawyer talks about everything from artificial intelligence to abortion, and while the book usually takes a clear stand on these issues, Sawyer sets his arguments up as long, intelligent dialogues between characters, which challenges the reader to come up with his/her own views rather than simply accept the character’s. Holden Caulfield says a mark of a good writer is that readers want to hang out with him, and I’d certainly want to hang out with Sawyer, if only to pick his brain about all sorts of topics he talks about in his books.

Wonder is also thrilling science fiction. It’s the final book in the WWW trilogy, and Webmind, the artificial intelligence born from the Internet, is in danger of being shut down by the Chinese government and the American military, who are afraid of Webmind’s Big Brother-type abilities. The reason the book is so exciting, and Sawyer’s best argument in favour of artificial intelligence, is the character of Webmind himself. Friendly, witty and compassionate (he still feels guilt over witnessing a suicide via webcam), Webmind is just plain likable. Caitlin says about Webmind’s online interactions, “Webmind did know everyone who was online. He wasn’t a celebrity; he was more like the whole planet’s Facebook friend.” That’s certainly the impression I got, and I did feel like shutting him down would be like murdering a person rather than just shutting off my laptop.

So am I 100% on Team Webmind? Not quite; I felt some sympathy for the view of chief bad guy military officer Peyton Hume, who wants to destroy Webmind before he becomes too powerful. Not that I agree with his fear that Webmind will want to take over the world or destroy humanity; Webmind has made some logical arguments why he has a personal stake in humanity’s continued existence. But Webmind doesn’t follow a Star Trek-type Prime Directive; he meddles. Using his sense of morality (which is admittedly comprehensive, being the result of studying all the philosophies and moral debates on the Internet), he acts as an Internet-based superhero, bringing down “bad guys” and furthering the cause of justice and tolerance. On one hand, this can be a good thing; he foils terrorist plots and corrupt politicians. On the other hand, this is someone who knows everything about you – so much information is readily available on the Internet, and Webmind has access even to the information you try to keep secure with passwords – do you really want any individual with that much power impose his beliefs on the world? I acknowledge Webmind’s benevolent intentions, but I grew up in a country with far too much experience with colonizers who have benevolent intentions, and I’m definitely wary. As I’ve said, Wonder offers no easy answers, and I like that about it.

That being said, I think Wonder, and the WWW trilogy in general, could have been much tighter. Some of the speeches and debates on social issues were unnecessary to further the plot, and seemed tacked on just because Sawyer wanted to state his views on it. They added to the overall theme of tolerance – just because Webmind is different, doesn’t mean he should be feared or discriminated against – but it sometimes felt like Sawyer wanted to include a mention of as many similar social issues as he could. Key words: a mention. They were in the story just for the sake of being mentioned. I would have preferred that Sawyer wove them into the plot more subtly; that would’ve made more emotional impact, I think.

Minor spoiler alert, skip to the next paragraph if you want: I also didn’t like the evil Webmind subplot. It turned out to have some significance in the eventual resolution of the novel, but since that side of Webmind was given a very flimsy set-up, I felt like that subplot came out of nowhere, and was tacked on just as an exciting little plot twist.

Overall, I really enjoyed Wonder. It raises interesting questions on artificial intelligence, and it’s a fun read. I especially loved all the geeky pop culture references – Big Bang Theory, William Gibson (a character says he needs “a hacker—a genuine Gibsonian cyberpunk”), and Roomba (I had to Google it; now I want one). And something I just found very cool – at one point in the novel, Webmind tweets a bit.ly link. I got the Kindle e-book version, and I was thrilled to find that the link actually worked! It’s the little things. (By the way, I heard the Kobo version has special features. If any of you have it, I’d love to know what other bells and whistles it had.) Then of course, I felt disappointed whenever I saw an underlined “link” that didn’t go anywhere. I get spoiled fairly easily.

Note to publishers: I like even the little bells and whistles on e-books, and I hope to see more of it in the future.

Crunch Time, Diane Mott Davidson #50BookPledge

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I’m a huge Goldy Schulz fan, so when I saw Diane Mott Davidson finally had a new book out, I pre-ordered the e-book immediately. Unfortunately, I did not like Crunch Time. I suppose I should have been warned by “A Novel of Suspense” on the cover. Goldy Schulz novels have never been about the thrills – they’re about the warmth, the humour, and yes, the food. Crunch Time tries so hard to be about the “suspense” that it ends up with a whole lot of half-developed plot points, frenetic plot twists and new characters who just don’t make me care.

Ernest, a private investigator, is killed, and his live-in cook Yolanda and her great-aunt Ferdinanda are friends of Goldy, so they come to live with her while looking for a new place. Ernest was working on several cases (a fishy dog breeding mill, a divorce case involving possible adultery, a generations-old stolen diamonds case, and Yolanda’s abusive, stalker ex-husband), so he had quite a list of people who’d wanted him dead. Yolanda is a suspect and Goldy, being Goldy, decides to help her out by finding the real killer. Classic Goldy Schulz plot.

Here are the problems. Yolanda and Ferdinanda are just plain annoying. Ferdinanda is the classic feisty elderly lady. She talks non-stop, she takes over Goldy’s kitchen, and she confidently wields a baton against men. She does have her likable moments, but for the most part, I felt more sympathy for the man she was yelling at or whacking with the baton. Yolanda claims her ex-husband abused her (again a classic theme in Goldy Schulz novels), and so is understandably jumpy. Unfortunately, Davidson handled this type of character much better with Goldy (whose fear made her sympathetic) and Marla (whose spunk made her admirable), mostly because we saw just how bad their ex-husband, the Jerk, could be. Yolanda’s ex is barely developed and even Goldy sometimes questions whether Yolanda has even been abused in the first place, so Yolanda just comes off as hysterical. Characters in fiction need not be likable, but if the lovable protagonist risks herself and her equally lovable family for them, they should at least be likable enough to be worth that risk.

Other minor characters irked me as well. One suspect for example is a man who literally faints at the sight of blood. He had at least three scenes of blood-related fainting incidents, which I personally thought was at least two too many. The first time was surprising, and somewhat amusing. After a while, it turned into slapstick that tried too hard either to be funny or to establish that this character is a wimp.

Also, I don’t know if Goldy’s nosiness has always been this annoying, or if I just don’t think this case is worth her meddling. I’ve always found Goldy charming – I like how she mostly just wants a quiet life as a caterer, and yet ends up embroiled in mysteries because she or a good friend (like Julian Teller) or family member (like the Jerk) is accused of a crime. Because the stakes are usually so high and she tries to find an answer quickly so she can get back to her usual life, I cheer her on when she bends the rules, ignores police warnings and gets into dangerous situations. In Crunch Time, Goldy seems to have developed a taste for detecting, and has morphed from an ordinary mother/caterer into a wannabe cop/busybody. At one point, she enlists someone’s help to drug a suspect so she can collect evidence, then later fabricates evidence to collect even more evidence. This type of mystery always requires a suspension of disbelief when it comes to chains of evidence, but even I couldn’t swallow all that. Nor could I help thinking, Goldy’s police officer husband Tom seems more than capable, why not tell him what she knows and let him handle things?

The plot twists and red herrings in this book just pile up, and it wasn’t so much confusing at it was unnecessary. Davidson emphasizes the most random things, which make me think they are significant, but end up being just bits of colour to add to characters. At least two people for example ask Yolanda why she calls Ferdinanda Aunt instead of Great Aunt. In real life, I just don’t see people caring about that, so I thought the inconsistency would mean something later on. Spoiler: either it didn’t, or I missed it completely. Later on, Ferdinanda hangs a Santeria mask on Goldy’s door, which makes Tom protest. Santeria masks do play a role later on, but the fact that Ferdinanda insisted on hanging the mask up despite Tom’s (the house owner’s!) objections meant nothing at all, from what I could tell.

It was good seeing old favourites again, and I love seeing Goldy’s son Arch, whom I first met as a shy, awkward eleven year old, now a popular, confident athletic sixteen year old. So he’s a fencer, which isn’t exactly the height of cool, from what I can remember of high school, but still, it’s nice to see him all grown up. The always entertaining Marla was, like Goldy, more annoyingly gossipy here, but even worse, she was barely involved at all in the case. Even an annoying Marla is much better as Goldy’s sidekick than Yolanda and Ferdinanda. Tom and Goldy’s relationship has progressed somewhat, and it’s nice seeing them having sex more often than in previous books. They’re a cute couple, and I like seeing them happy.

Finally, and I admit this should a minor, ridiculous gripe, I miss Goldy’s constant cooking. In previous books, she cooks every time she gets stressed out (which is often), and Davidson describes the most mouth watering recipes in these scenes. Goldy still does cook, and Davidson does include a list of recipes, but at least half the time in this book, when Goldy goes to the kitchen, she finds that Ferdinanda has already cooked something sumptuous. We still get the description of how heavenly Ferdinanda’s meals are, but it isn’t quite the same as seeing the meal created.

Minor question to Goldy Schulz fans – how religious was she in previous books, beyond teaching Sunday school and catering church functions? She just seemed very preachy here (commenting about sins and commandments), and the scene where she is stressed out and goes to light candles in church rather than cook surprised me. Not a big deal, and certainly, a character can change. Just struck me as odd.