We get a far more in-depth picture of Ophelia. The book spends a somewhat excessive amount of time describing her alabaster skin and lithe figure, but beyond that her thought-processes and intelligence are explored quite completely. She is no longer a pale, watery mystery, writhing blurrily in tragedy and madness. She is calculating, intelligent, and stifled. As she says in a bout of frustration, "The wild doe has become a gentle deer. I fear I have been forcibly tamed."
Ophelia is youthful, ripe, lovely and restlessly clever. The author did a great job of blending the ideal of a young girl as a blooming sexual object with the well-tested narrative of a girl who wants a life bigger than she is allowed. Ophelia won’t stand for becoming a lady. She wants out of the castle, out of her limited life. And she will achieve this in ways that --given Ophelia’s stigma-- may surprise the reader.
The first half of the book is fast-paced and compelling. It chronicles Ophelia’s childhood and whirlwind, frightening and magical love affair with Hamlet. They are intellectual equals, and while they once enjoy a relationship solely based on their love and their fantasies for the future they will have together, it becomes an affair spurred on by a spark of madness. They twist through a black maze of heat and passion and the constant possibility that the person in their arms will suddenly morph into a ghost-possessed demon.
What is madness? How does it spread? How does it infect? Is it always there, festering, waiting, or is it a malady foreign to the natural mind? Ophelia watches as her bright and brilliant Hamlet dances along the path of madness—assuring her he is merely playing, pretending and scheming to achieve his goals. He is above it all, he is in control. But it is a steep and slippery slope, and Ophelia watches as her love and equal becomes a creature unknown to her. And it is exciting and it is beautiful and it is breathtaking. But so, so frightening.
Is madness inborn? Can it be faked? Is there a line between true madness and the trickery of the mind? These questions are explored directly and indirectly throughout.
That was something the book does very well. Unfortunately, after the wonderful first half, the book loses much of its momentum. It meanders and drags, and I found myself having to force myself to read. Yes, there is a great little twist that skews the well-known story and completely changes where the latter part of the book goes—but the novel fails, after the initial idea, to follow through and make it interesting. It devolves into immoderate pockets of unnecessary description and repetitive pages that weren’t really interesting in the first place.
If you can make it through the duller second half, the beginning of the novel is definitely worth a read. It will be significantly more rewarding if you are familiar with Hamlet, however.
2 and a half evil daggers.
Yours in madness and sanity (whatever that is),
Enter Nessus. A member of the “puppeteers,” an alien race famed for its cowardice, Nessus’s fellows condemn him as insane because of his bravery. Yet they find him useful as an explorer, visiting planets and stars no “sane” puppeteer would dare approach. For his current expedition, he requires companions. Louis immediately signs on to Nessus’s mission, with an excitement fueled by xenophilia and a youthful spirit. Along with two other individuals- Teela Brown, a young human woman, and Speaker-to-Animals, a fearsome alien feline- they set off to investigate the Ringworld, a massive alien artifact shrouded in mystery.
I don’t often use the phrase “thrill ride,” but there’s no other way to describe this book. The numerous plot twists and turns left me guessing every step of the way, and at several points I was left simply marveling at the author’s sheer cleverness. The characters and setting were just as richly detailed and complex as the plot, woven together into a compelling novel with a surprise ending no one could have predicted. Fantastical sci-fi concepts enrich the storyline and are made believable by the smart, polished writing. Creepy insights into what humanity’s future could look like are pure genius (and also really unsettling).
Okay, so this book isn’t exactly new, or YA, but the setting is futuristic and the book has as much action, adventure, and suspense as any novel written for teens. In short, it’s made of awesome. If this book has a downside, it’s that made-up words and new concepts are often introduced with no explanation, and the explanation comes later. A slight flaw, compared to the rest of the book. Five high-tech flashlight lasers- er, daggers.
In the fall of 1937, a young Chinese man named Stephen is stricken with tuberculosis. Despite the deteriorating political situation in eastern Asia due to Japan’s budding imperialism, Stephen is sent to a small Japanese village called Tarumi, where his family owns a summer house, to rest and recover from his illness. He is to be cared for by the family’s housekeeper, Matsu, a quiet and reserved man whom Stephen knows only as an acquaintance.
As the novel opens, Stephen has no reason to believe that his stay in Tarumi will be anything but relaxing, and he is looking forward to reading and painting, his two favorite hobbies. Soon after he arrives, though, it becomes clear to Stephen that there is more to Matsu than meets the eye. He becomes acquainted with two of Matsu’s old friends, named Kenzo and Sachi, and slowly begins to discover the secrets of their difficult past. As time passes, as he becomes immersed in Japanese life and culture, forges friendships with the enigmatic Sachi and Matsu, and participates in a romance, Stephen begins to feel more and more at home in Tarumi, a place that is at once turbulent and peaceful.
This book takes place against the backdrop of 1930’s Japan. At the time, Japan was fully industrialized and seeking dominance over its less modernized neighbors, especially China; this aggressive foreign policy was one of the contributing factors to Japan’s later involvement in World War II. The novel makes frequent reference to radio news reports- from both perspectives- of Japan’s victories over the Chinese army; it is interesting to see the contrast between the Chinese and Japanese reports of the same battles, underscoring the effect of bias in the media.
The people, food, dress, and customs of the vibrant Japanese culture were portrayed colorfully throughout the book, while the author’s sparse, clear prose beautifully evoked the clean, elegant style of Asian art and poetry. The plot was well-developed and reasonably interesting, incorporating an intricate storyline within a compact package. I was especially impressed by the complex characterization, which was well-executed and made the characters seem vivid and real.
Ironically, however, despite the fact that the novel is written in first person, the protagonist Stephen is remarkably underdeveloped compared to the other characters; his lack of any distinguishable traits is in sharp contrast to the richly layered personalities of the other main characters. The awkward, boring, and halfhearted romantic element of the story is unnecessary- I feel that the novel would be better off if the romantic subplot were replaced with actual development of Stephen as a character.
Despite its shortcomings, though, this book was a success. It was, a bit surprisingly, thought-provoking; the hardships described by the characters made me reflect on what I would have done in the same situations, and the descriptions of a beautiful culture immersed me. The writing style was unpretentious and refreshingly clean. Overall, it was a complex and detailed novel bound up into a deceptively small package. I award it four daggers.
Skye is passionate and vibrant, but her desperate thirst for dare and danger becomes concerning for Catherine. Skye has a tragic soul and seems to believe that she is indestructible—a belief she tests more and more frantically, engaging in increasingly dangerous adventures. Skye defies convention, takes what she wants, lives hungrily yet can never be satisfied. She is a tightrope walker, an enchanted seductress, an angel. She is a presence in both of the worlds she inhabits—the world of Esther Percy and the world of my mind. It is tough to say where she is more at home.
Gossip of the Starlings was fantastic. The writing was pure poetry: smooth, eloquent, daintily descriptive without ever being too thick. The characters were painted gloriously, the plot and the allusions drawn were constantly keeping me interested. The following is just a snippet from the long, intricate work of art Gramont has created.
“Now, when I see teenage girls laughing. When I see them loosed on a summer evening – their limbs tanned and gossamer, their imagined freedom radiating like nuclear light – I can’t help but fast forward two decades or more. I know the curve of their bones has already made an imperceptible bow to gravity. I see the decay in slow motion, even or especially through those stunning and immortal years.”
Complemented by such gems of observations, small moments make up much of the novel. They are painted to such rich perfection that after months I recall them still. The image of a blood promise in a night-dark dorm room stands in my mind bright and vivid—scarlet blood, moonlit curls, tender smiles and flushed cheeks as the girls teeter on the edge of destruction; the first in many daring adventures that take them inches from death, the only way, they believe, to truly experience life.
I loved Skye’s seduction, the way even the reader was drawn to her. I could picture her lush beauty, her tender flawless skin, the dare and the dreams in her eyes. The way she could dance logical circles around any opponent, dangle her ripe sexuality at a whim, manipulating the world into her dark and dizzy playground.
After finishing Gossip of the Starlings, I began to search for other hazy books about poetry and death and life and living on the cusp of womanhood. The only other one I found was the Virgin Suicides (by Jeffrey Eugenides), which was excellent but lacking the strong plot of Gossip of the Starlings. Any suggestions?
Anyway, as if you couldn’t guess—Gossip of the Starlings earns a glowing five daggers.
Off embracing my fleeting youth but always, unalterably yours,
Take a moment and consider the concept of this book: eastern philosophy explained using a children's storybook character. Cute? Yes. Borderline absurd? Perhaps. Yet, Hoff brilliantly executes the seemingly silly concept. Pooh is Taoism personified. The Winnie-the-Pooh stories Hoff references simplify Taoism's principles and teachings while his references to Chinese writers, Chinese terms, Chinese paintings, western philosophers, musicians, etc. add a delicate flavor to the novel. The Tao of Pooh merges simplicity and profundity into one delightful work of art.
My only complaint is the complaining. At times, Hoff's tone becomes whiny. The tone reminds me of a teenager vehemently defending his/her peculiar lifestyle choices to a large group of overly judgmental peers. However, he tends to have a good point. Knowledge for the sake of flaunting one's imagined superiority is rude and distasteful: definitely not a good way of living one's life. However, when Hoff bashed science, I felt he went too far. Granted, it was only a single sentence, but it struck a chord deep within my gut. He accused "Nearsighted Science" of asking questions it will never know the answer to and coming up with more questions instead. True, science raises more questions than it answers, but I would not go so far as to call it a waste of time. I see science as pushing the boundaries of human knowledge: a useful pursuit (I rather like running water, electricity, computers, indoor plumbing, fiber optics, vaccines, antibiotics, etc.).
Clearly, I am biased towards science. I simply felt some of Hoff's refutations of other pursuits of knowledge/wisdom were too harsh and confrontational. Negative criticism aside, the book does possess redeeming qualities. The stories of Pooh and his friends wonderfully illustrate the tenets of Taoism, which are elegant in their own right.
Unexpectedly, Cliff notices improvement in three of his lab mice. The injected RSV-7 virus has shrunk their tumors! Glass and Mendelssohn allow Cliff to continue his work, and the results are incredible. In over half of the mice injected with RSV-7, the tumors have shrunk and disappeared. The virus targeted cancerous cells, but left normal cells unharmed. Practically overnight, Cliff becomes the star of the lab. Everyone is put to work on replicating his experiment. Glass and Mendelssohn work towards publishing an article in Nature and using Cliff's discovery to elicit more funding.
All goes well until Robin, Cliff's girlfriend, gets jealous. She worked at Philpott longer and thinks his fortune is unfair. Since everyone must work on Cliff's project, she is forced to give up her bone marrow project. This begins a chain reaction, eventually bringing the validity of Cliff's results into question. Robin trusts her intuition that Cliff's results are too good to be true, and she goes to great lengths in search of the truth.
Although this is the longest plot summary I've ever given, the wealth of this novel is not in its plot, but in its characters. Not to imply the plot is boring, its not. The book is riveting, fascinating, and hard to put down. However, the character development is simply phenomenal! The book shifts from one character's mind to another, giving deep insights into the thoughts of each character. It often presents different perspectives on a character's actions. This blurs the line between good and evil. Each character's thoughts alters the reader's opinion of the other characters. It makes for a very thrilling read. Dramatic twists and eureka moments occur often.
Along similar lines, the driving force of the plot is the conflicts between characters, rather than the traditional sequence of events. Obviously, the characters feelings lead to actions, which in turn lead to reactions and the process repeats. However, the conflict seems to warp constantly, making the book more exciting. Ever heard a story where a hero must fight a villain throughout the story, ultimately triumphing? This story is the polar opposite. It is not a fight between two people, but a dynamic, ever-changing conflict, involving multiple characters. Elegantly written, the reading experience is simply wonderful. The only downside, if it can even qualify as a downside, there are lots of fancy words. Keep a dictionary handy.
I give Intuition by Allegra Goodman the coveted 5 out of 5 daggers.
When I first received this book, I thought this novel sounded interesting but feared it would be one of those cliché outcast saves the day kind of book however as soon as I started reading I realized I had picked up a truly unique novel and was quickly drawn into the story. The author did a wonderful job in creating Xing as a believe depiction of a disillusioned immigrant.Through Xing's thoughts, I received valuable insight on the plight of immigrants, as they must learn an entirely new language and customs as well as face alienation by the local populace. Being no stranger to isolation myself, I was quick to empathize with Xing and therefore found the outcome of the novel quite unsatisfactory. Overall, I found the book very enlightening and the storyline was superb except for that darned ending!