Virtual Advent Tour 2011 | Twelve Books for Christmas, Part 1

Someone recently told me that when he doesn’t like giving books as presents, because he feels “books are so personal.” He’d much rather give someone a gift certificate, and let them choose their own books. Now, I’m personally not a big fan of gift certificates (unless it’s a gift card to a coffee shop, which in my case will be very useful!), but I can understand the reluctance to give someone a book they may not necessarily enjoy, or that they may already have.

My sister told me once that she finds it hard to buy me books. For several birthdays and Christmases, she’d stand in the mystery section of a bookstore, trying to find authors I might enjoy but have not read. Result: she’s introduced me to the books of Robert B. Parker, Ian Rankin, Donna Leon and C.J. Sansom, all of whom I now count among my absolute favourite writers.

That is what I love about receiving books as gifts. Books are indeed personal things, and for some, they may well prefer to get a gift certificate and choose the books themselves. But personally, I love being introduced to books I may not necessarily have picked up on my own and yet may end up devouring. I also love the feeling that my sister, or whoever gives me that book as a gift, knows me so well they can guess what writer I’d like to read next.

So, for anyone who may be thinking of surprising someone on their list with a book, I do have a few, humble suggestions.

Scroll down, or click on the images below to go straight to that book’s write-up:


1. Harry Potter Page to Screen, Bob McCabe

Harry Potter Page to Screen is at the top of my wish list this year. I firmly believe the Harry Potter series is the Lord of the Rings of our generation — a sweeping epic about the battle between good and evil, a series that not just captivates a generation, but defines it. The books are pure magic, and I especially love the progression towards darker stories that mimics so well the way our understanding of the world changes as we grow older. These books grow with us, and the movies have captured this magic wonderfully. What better way to relive that magic over and over than with a book that chronicles that journey from books to movies?

Then of course, there’s this book trailer:

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2. The Chronicles of Harris Burdick, Chris Van Allsburg et al

Chronicles of Harris Burdick is one of my favourite books of the year. Click on the cover photo to enlarge it, and check out the amazing list of authors who contributed to this book. Stephen King, Lois Lowry and Cory Doctorow all in one book? I want!

Then add the wonderful imaginative nature inspired by Harris Burdick: here are fourteen illustrations, paired with intriguing captions. What stories do these images tell? This book contains the stories created by professional authors, but I personally would love to know what stories readers can come up with.

This book is written for children, but I’d recommend it for people of all ages. All it takes is imagination. For more details, you can read my full, glowing review here.

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3. The Giver (gift edition), Lois Lowry and Bagram Ibattouline (illustrator)

We all have that one book from childhood that completely changed how we view the world. For me, that book is Lois Lowry’s The Giver. I first read it when I was about 14. The story of a society where choice and emotion have been taken away scared me; like Giver protagonist Jonas, I want to live, with all the passion and wonder the italics imply.

I’m 28 now, and every time I read it, it’s a completely different experience. This book is a classic, and I just love this beautiful, illustrated edition. Whatever your One Childhood Book was, I hope you too get to see it so beautifully reissued. If, like me, it was The Giver, it’s a wonderful story to share with the young people in your life.

For more details about The Giver and this edition, my full review is here.

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4. Perfect People, Peter James

I made the mistake of reading Perfect People in a mall. Every few pages, I’d gasp or shake my head or I’d stop reading and stare into space to absorb what I’d just read. The people walking past probably thought I was nuts. But really, that’s how good this book is.

What if you had the chance to free your unborn child from all genetic imperfections? Would you be able to face yourself if you turned it down? There are no easy answers, especially for John and Naomi Klaesson, who’d already lost a child to a rare genetic disease. Add a fanatic religious cult determined to destroy all “unnatural” children, and you’ve got a gripping, emotional, amazing thriller that just never lets up.

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5. The Invention of Hugo Cabret, Brian Selznick

Confession: I’ve had Invention of Hugo Cabret on my reading list for a while now, but it was the movie Hugo that made me buy the book. The movie was sheer magic. It featured amazing use of 3D (I could almost feel the snow flakes blowing past) and a sweet, innocent story about an orphaned boy, a girl and a mysterious mechanical man. The plot is all about the magic of cinema, which makes it such a wonderful story to turn into a movie.

The book conveys this same magic through beautiful pictures. I love how Selznick integrated art and story — the images don’t just illustrate the story; they actually move the story forward.

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6. Hark! A Vagrant, by Kate Beaton

I was fortunate enough to have seen Kate Beaton speak at the recent International Festival of Authors. She is as funny and entertaining in person as her comics promise. She even drew Jane Eyre in love with a burned, disfigured Rochester on my copy of Hark! A Vagrant! We agreed that it’s great Jane Eyre is a love story between two unattractive people, but also that Rochester is a jerk. “Here,” Kate says, brandishing her pen after we chatted about how horribly Rochester treated Jane (quite a big secret to keep from your fiancee, Rochester!). “Let’s make him look even more disgusting.” Love it!

I especially love her send ups of literary figures like Tiny Hermione, the Bronte sisters and Holmes and Watson. She also pokes fun at history (can you guess the historical figure on the cover?) and Canadian stereotypes. Hark! A Vagrant collects a lot of her cheeky, witty and oh-so-true comics in a single, fun volume I’d recommend for just about anyone with a sense of humour.

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Part 2 here, featuring the following books:

(Note: You may also click on the thumbnail to be taken directly to that book’s write-up.)


Review | Love Alone, Emmanuel Kattan (Sheila Fischman, trans.)

In Emmanuel Kattan’s Love Alone,  Judith and Antoine were lovers for a brief time. Nine years later, they reunite and revive their former passion. However, they cannot forget the events of the past, and after a violent incident, their relationship spirals down into a nightmarish tale about the effects of sexual jealousy.

The story starts off a bit slow, but becomes much more interesting about halfway through, after the violent incident I mentioned. From the blurb, I was expecting a quirky, darkly comedic book along the lines of War of the Roses. Love Alone does get a bit dark and violent, but was neither horrific enough nor wildly gleeful enough to keep me riveted. It’s a sad, earnest story, yet it didn’t pull me in.

Part of the problem for me is the language, and it’s very possible that this is simply a translation issue. The writing felt stilted to me, stiff and formal at points and overly flowery at others. Take for example:

When I first came here nine years ago, New York was merely a refuge, a cold and unattractive place. I felt lost and I was relieved  not to find anything here that could help me to find myself.

Or, in a news article about a woman whose corpse had been discovered,

According to her sister she had received several anonymous letters, but was determined not to give in to intimidation. The reaction of her colleagues was dismay. “We’re shocked. […] She was irreplaceable,” declared editor-in-chief Ronald Auger.

The language just didn’t flow for me, especially the overly formal construction of “The reaction of her colleagues was dismay.”

There are lines with ideas I find beautiful, taken alone:

Who knows to what degree his eyes have been shaped by temptations he doesn’t even remember, who knows what his caresses to my  body owe to the pleasure that he learned to give to others?

But combined with more awkward phrasing later on, these lines just get lost. I sense this is a translation issue more than anything; it’s possible that, in the original French, the language flowed more naturally.

Kattan also uses to use alternating perspectives, the first person journal entries of Judith interspersed with third person view of Antoine’s experiences. Again, because the language, to my ear, lacked fluidity, these episodes of varying perspectives felt disjointed. The small jumps in time and the number of other women in Antoine’s life also added to my confusion.

Overall, an interesting concept, with some interesting scenes and beautifully written lines, and Kattan certainly doesn’t shy away from showing the brutal nature of sexual jealousy. However, I found the writing a too stiff to be effective in drawing me in to the nuances of Judith and Antoine’s relationship.

 

 

Review | Mangaman, Barry Lyga (writer) and Colleen Doran (illustrator)

What a fantastic concept! A boy from the world of manga (Japanese comics) lands int he real world and falls in love with the prettiest girl at his high school. Only thing is, in true manga fashion, his eyes literally turn into hearts when he sees her. His classmates find this rather… odd. There’s that added sly wink at the reader because, to us, Marissa and her classmates are as much characters in a comic book as Ryoko is to them, and writer Barry Lyga and illustration Colleen Doran certainly make the most of this metafictive aspect. I love Mangaman for its hilarious and surprisingly touching love story, and I especially love its fantastic mash-up of two completely different comic book styles — American realism working with Japanese fantasy. Ranma in Riverdale. Love it. Check out the book’s site for a preview: http://mangamanlives.com/.

I expected to be delighted by Mangaman; I did not expect to be moved by it. Ryoko’s manga-style special effects are involuntary and therefore hilarious, but there’s also an element of tragedy to them, because all he really wants is to fit in, and he never can. I love Ryoko and Marissa’s first encounter: It’s a party and Ryoko is introducing himself to his classmates and asking them not to be afraid of him when he catches sight of Marissa. Immediately, flowers and excitement lines burst from him, and his entire body transforms into a drooling, flappy-armed beanie doll with bulging heart eyes and fiery hair. “I’m sorry,” he says, squishing his cheeks back to ordinary proportions, and poking a heart back into an eye socket. “I’m not going to hurt anyone.” Marissa stares in shock, flowers still fluttering down around her. Hilarious image, yes, yet Ryoko’s humiliation is palpable, and the image of him so desperately, so physically, trying to mould his features back to normal touched me. I just wanted to hug him and tell him there’s nothing wrong with literally exploding out of your skin when you see the one you love.

Cultural misunderstandings arise as well. When Marissa’s ex-boyfriend tells Ryoko to stay away from her, Ryoko exclaims “I know this part!” He strikes a fight pose and says “Big-time high school challenge! Awesome karate fight!” Special effect-filled battles may be fairly common in manga, where characters never really stay hurt, but they have real consequences in Marissa’s world, and Ryoko’s certainty that he’s finally found a familiar custom dissolves into the realization that he’s just set himself apart as more alien than ever.

I was cheering on the love story all the way. While Marissa’s classmates are turned off by Ryoko’s strangeness, she is drawn to him. He offers her something different from a life she finds bland and restrictive. Her choice of a Japanese outfit for the party at the beginning of the book is a bit kitschy, but her desire to reinvent herself without a clear idea of what she wants to become is something many will relate to. In their own ways, neither Ryoko nor Marissa fits in, and their romance works because their relationship allows them to view their standing out as something to celebrate.

Mangaman can be as much of a lark or as deep and textured of a tome as you choose. Ryoko is the ultimate visual metaphor of children and teens who feel they don’t fit in, and can never help but stand out, for whatever reason. The story encourages new perspectives — you need to look beyond the frame (literally for comic book characters) to discover the more exciting world beyond your own experiences. I also enjoyed the metafictive aspects — a comic book character in the “real world” of another comic book within our real world and what are the boundaries of reality, etc. I like the cross-cultural angle — West meets East, comic book style. At its heart, however, Mangaman to me is ultimately a funny, sweet story, told in beautiful, genre blending illustrations, and I hope it will touch and delight you as it did me.