Review of The Stars Seem So Far Away by Margret Helgadottir

I am far from the most knowledgeable person on the subject, but in my web wandering and scattered reading it has certainly come to my attention that post-apocalyptic YA fiction is ‘a thing’ (or at least recently was ‘a thing’).  A sub-genre niche publishers and authors have rushed to capitalize on, the number of titles in the sphere has risen sharply.  But as with all such rushes, one must pick and choose carefully; quality requires weeding from quantity.

Margret Helgadottir The Stars Seem So Far Away (2015, Fox Spirit Books) is post-apocalyptic YA fiction.  Part of the third-wave of such texts, it wears its taxonomy on its sleeve.   But the devil is in the details. 

The Stars Seem So Far Away is ostensibly a collection.  But it quickly becomes apparent that the stories function more like point-of-view chapters, creating a cycle that rolls toward an all-inclusive conclusion.  A handful of teens anchoring this overarching story, Aida, Bjorn, Simik, Nora, Zaki, and a couple of others start at different points in a Europe torn apart by catastrophe and plague, but eventually wind up together in the same plight.  Foregoing the sensationalist details that many other post-ap YA novels seem to focus on (looking at you, Bacigalupi), Helgadottir keeps the spotlight on the young people, their interrelationships and emotional stances, and their reactions to the events they experience traversing the scarred landscape, trying to stay alive and find a better life.

Review of Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi

Growing up poor, no matter America or in Africa, is a difficult task.  Human nature being what it is, a variety of perspectives can be taken of the wealth gap.  The affluent side might be something mysterious and forever unattainable, it can be motivation to work hard and one day find yourself amongst the rich and likewise a lifestyle entirely undesirable, it can be something that becomes owed—like feelings of victim hood, it can be the nexus for crime and other means of obtaining fast wealth, it can be the source of depression and frustration, and it can be accepted as normal; life just goes on, best to be happy with what you have instead of don’t have.  An interesting examination of the haves and have nots, Paolo Bacigalupi’s 2011 YA novel Ship Breaker takes a look at the world through the eyes of a poor teenage boy.  Existing at one of the lowest rungs of society, it’s through a whirlwind adventure that the ultimate value of his life is made apparent.

Ship Breaker is set in a post-oil world warmed drastically by the greenhouse effect.  The polar ice caps have melted and raised sea waters hundreds of feet, inundating the continents.  Humanity pushed back but not defeated, the effect is nevertheless significant.  Whole cities drowned, conglomerates of the destitute have emerged wherever food can be found and valuable materials scavenged.  It is on the coastline of what was once Louisiana that young Nailer is found.  Rooting through abandoned tanker ships, he locates steel, copper, and other metals to earn his quota for the day.  Choking dust and mold filling every breath and the danger of being in tiny, enclosed environments haunting every step, his working conditions are abysmal.  But nothing is as bad as his return home.  Richard Lopez, Nailer’s father, is a drunken drug addict who beats his son for the most trivial of transgressions.  But one day, when a major storm breaks over the beach, their lives change forever.

Review of The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman

Borrowing a concept to write a novel is a risky decision.  The outcome potentially derivative beyond face-in-public possibility, or conversely, a highly original spin on an old idea that makes successful waves of its own, everything depends on approach.  Neil Gaiman’s 2009 The Graveyard Book one such offering, time has yet to tell whether his choice of Kipling’s Jungle Books and Halloween have been mixed enough to offer a story entirely of his own. 

 

The Graveyard Book is the story of Bod Owens and his life in a graveyard after his parents are killed.  Escaping his crib while the assassin Jack murders his family, Bod crawls his way into the neighboring graveyard and is adopted by the ghosts, vampires, ghouls, werewolves, and other creatures of the night who call the quiet grounds home.  With The Jungle Books as inspiration, The Graveyard Book is structured such that each chapter is a story on its own, individual threads binding the whole together.  Like windows, these chapters relate various episodes of Bod’s upbringing.  From a trip with the hounds of hell to spending time with the girl Scarlett, mastering The Slide to encountering the mysterious Sleer beneath a grave, the book is full of imagination.  And like Kipling’s showdown with the limp tiger, the final chapters feature Jack still trying to find the child who went missing that night so long ago. 

Review of "The Amber Spyglass" by Phillip Pullman

The Amber Spyglass is the exciting and subversive conclusion to Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials… trilogy.  Lyra and Will having been turned loose in the multiverse described in Northern Lights (The Golden Compass - US) and The Subtle Knife, the time has come to draw their plight to a close—and does the author ever do it in dramatic, fantastical fashion.  But given the wealth of symbolism and subtle digs at contemporary dogma embedded in the underlying narrative of the trilogy, the conclusion is delivered in anything but standard fantasy style.

Of the three books in the series, The Amber Spyglass is the most jam-packed with story.  The action detailed and steady from the first page onward, the wheels of event and character never cease revolving.  The book opens with Will deciding whether to start a rescue action of Lyra, who was kidnapped by Mrs. Coulture and the golden monkey at the end of The Subtle Knife.  But angels visit and try to convince Will to bring the subtle knife to Lord Asriel instead, joining him in his fight with the Authority.  Only at a temporary loss for direction, Will soon enough makes a choice and is on his way, marching toward an inevitable climax.  Where he goes and who he goes with, not to mention Lyra’s fate, are for the reader to find out.  Suffice to say, it’s not always of this world, sees a major revolution unfolding in ways nobody planned, and has moments of happiness and heartbreak to soften the hardest heart.  

Review of "Northern Lights/The Golden Compass" by Phillip Pullman

Begun in 1995 and finished five years later, Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials… is a trilogy of uniquely imaginative fantasy books written for both teenagers and adults.  A product of post-modern times if ever the phenomenon existed, Pullman’s objective in the trilogy is to invert/subvert a variety of literary conceptions, particularly Milton’s Paradise Lost and C.S. Lewis’ the Chronicles of Narnia.  Naturally drawing the ire of a variety of religious organizations and institutions in the process, the trilogy also attracted critical acclaim, two of the books winning major awards.  The dearth of imagination, daring storytelling, and overall sense of wonder are undoubtedly the reason.  Perhaps most interesting, however, is its originality.

The first book of His Dark Materials... is called Northern Lights (The Golden Compass in the US), which tells the story of Lyra Belacqua and her quest to discover what Dust is.  Lyra existing in a world not our own, a strong steampunk feel permeates the setting of Jordan College where she lives with her uncle, Lord Asriel.  Privy to a conversation she was never supposed to overhear, Lyra, and her daemon, Pantalaimon, soon find themselves on the adventure of a lifetime.  Following in the footsteps of her uncle, all manner of witches, armored polar bears, gypsies, hot air balloons, and mystical northern lights aid and chase her into the arctic north.  With the magical and mysterious alethiometer in hand, Lyra needs every bit of her rebellious wit and cleverness if she is to remain one step ahead of Mrs. Coulture and her golden monkey, and draw one step closer to the answers of what exactly her uncle is doing with Dust.

Review of "The Hobbit" by J.R.R. Tolkien

J.R.R. Tolkien’s 1937 The Hobbit is simply as much fun as any fantasy adventure can be and, along with its ‘sequel’ The Lord of the Rings, is one of the genre’s modern cornerstones. Filled with warm, light-hearted imagination and tropes that have since become standard—trolls, wizards, elves, dwarves, and the like, the book is a delight for the young and the old, all brought to life with the author’s classic storytelling voice.

The Hobbit is the story of Bilbo Baggins and his quest to recover the treasure of Lonely Mountain.  Though smaller (and fuzzier) in stature than the thirteen dwarves he goes adventuring with, Mr. Baggins proves himself useful time and again escaping goblins, thwarting giant spiders, riling up dragons, and brokering peace among the various humans, elves, trolls, and otherwise the band meet along the way.  It doesn't hurt that he finds a most peculiar ring along the way.  This is all most peculiar because, such adventures are the last thing on Bilbo’s to-do list at the beginning of the book.

Review of "Ender's Game" by Orson Scott Card

There are very few “best of” sci-fi/fantasy lists that do not feature Orson Scott Card’s 1985 Ender’s Game near the top.  The story of a young boy’s rise through a space academy tantalizing and highly inventive throughout, the reasons are obvious.  Card hit upon an idea, mined it for every penny of entertainment, and cashed in—a wholly absorbing novel with humanist elements tacked to the end the reader’s reward.  

Ender’s Game is the story of Ender Wiggins and his often exciting, always visceral fight for place in a space academy.  Though he had a bit of trouble fitting in on Earth with his classmates, Ender proves himself more than capable of surviving in a system intended to separate the Darwinian wheat from the chaff.  But it’s at the price of his relationships.  The war games the children and teens play anything but light, laser-tag is only the appearance.  The challenges Ender faces in the game rooms—social, authoritarian, and strategic—break and mold him into a young man.  But what kind of young man does he become? 

Card’s imaginative span great entertainment, the scene is brilliantly set for one challenge after another at the Battle School.  Readers are constantly kept guessing how he—Card and Ender—will top himself, each new setup the next mission impossible.  Yet, it consistently happens, and in the process Ender must use every molecule of brain power to overcome the American Gladiator-like obstacles placed in he and his team’s path by the academy’s authoritarian overseers.  Card portraying the war games in video game fashion, the levels only get more difficult, creating a mountain of suspense in the process.  The war games, in fact, provide the main draw of the novel and are undoubtedly the reason it is regarded so highly by readership.

Aside from neither brilliant nor dull prose, the only other potential fault of the novel is its moods.  The story of a boy at a space academy innately juvenile, a young adult feel prevails throughout.  Card attempts to make the story more “adult” by splashing strong language here or there, adding some graphic details to the challenges at the Battle School, and moralizing at various points, but the overall effect is not very subtle.  There is the sudden prominence of a theme fully adult at the novel’s conclusion, but it doesn’t help.  The story retains a tone that could be either YA or standard.  

Love it or hate it, the most subversive aspect of Ender’s Game is its conclusion.  Events taking a major turn, readers can not expect things to transpire as they do.  Holding a mirror to the story, Card uses a suddenly new perspective to bring Ender to the next stage of his development.  The manner in which Card pulls the literary rug out from under readers’ feet to accomplish this, however, will either have people nodding their heads in better understanding of the novel’s true message, or shaking their heads, preferring such an adventure come to a more conventional ending, the plummet from action to anthropological sci-fi perhaps too quick to handle.  In a genre featuring all too much derivative, Card should be lauded for this, however.  

In the end, Ender’s Game is some of the most exciting entertainment readers of any genre can have.   The sharp left turn of an ending, while poignant to Card’s larger aspirations, may leave some readers disoriented, but will certainly interest those looking for sci-fi with more depth than the standard fare.  Enjoyable at many levels, character to setting, plot to theme, it’s difficult for this book to disappoint save the overall lack of maturity in tone.  Having some thematic points in common with Joe Haldeman’s The Forever War and Forever Peace or Heinlein’s Starship Troopers, readers who enjoyed those two novels but have (somehow) never read Ender’s Game will want to check it out.  The same is true vice versa.