Carol by Patricia Highsmith VS Odd Girl Out by Ann Bannon

Somehow I have found myself reading two lesbian novels written in the ‘50s one after the other. I had both Ann Bannon’s and Patricia Highsmith’s books under my radar for quite some time, but only the news recently come to my attention that a movie based on Carol was coming out soon prompted me to finally read it (or listen to it, rather). After Carol, I craved more lesbian fiction and I turned to Ann Bannon. Both books being published in the same era, only few years apart – Carol in 1952 and Odd Girl Out in 1957, they ask to be compared to each other.

Now, I don’t know how strict the publishers were at the time when they were asked by the Censorship to avoid any positive final outcome of lesbian and gay relationships, but somehow Carol, or the Price of Salt as it was originally named, managed to overcome those limitations and get away with a relatively happy ending. It’s well known for that, unfortunately. I say unfortunately because I have the feeling I would have appreciated the ending more if I hadn’t known that. As it happens, I did, and I wish it had been happier. But I had little or no knowledge of how the lesbian fiction of the time was, so of course I didn’t have any terms of comparison. Now I have read another one, Odd Girl Out, and compared to it, it seems like a celebration of all things lesbians, of EVERLASTING and TRUE LESBIAN LOVE. It’s even more surprising, knowing that it was published five years earlier than Ann Bannon’s novel. Could it be that its New York setting made it more permissive or more realistically open to different kinds of love than the conservative microcosm of a Midwestern University? Perhaps, but for whatever reason the two books are strikingly different.

Carol is the story of Therese, a 19-year-old stage designer who, at the beginning of the story, is working in a department store for some extra cash at Christmas, and of Carol, a charming woman in her '30s, about to get a divorce. One day Carol comes to Therese's desk to buy a doll for her daughter and Therese quite literally falls in love with her at first sight. She sends her a Christmas card later and Carol replies by inviting her out for coffee. They start an intimate friendship that later on becomes a love affair. There are complications though, as Carol is going through a divorce and the husband is not ready to let go of their daughter’s custody without a fight.

I enjoyed the writing in Carol. It’s quite beautiful and perceptive. The story is as much about Therese’s complete entrancement with Carol as about Therese’s struggle to find her place in life. To find meaning and fulfilment.

I loved the age gap between the two women and I was fascinated by Carol as much as Therese was. Their relationship isn’t one between equals, though. Carol has way too much control over Therese and never seems to reciprocate the younger woman’s feelings in equal measure. For a while it seems Therese is merely a distraction, a way of taking her mind away from her bigger problems in her life. She’s guarded and cold, always keeping Therese on the edge, never fully letting her in and embracing their romance without reservations. This was the only reason that kept me from falling in love with the book completely. I wanted to see more passion from Carol. I know it was there, she just never let herself show it. I understand her pain and fear of losing her daughter were clouding her ability to show love to Therese, but it made me weary of her, and I never fully trusted her. I didn’t trust her even if I knew how it was going to end. 

This said I am really excited that Cate Blanchett is playing Carol. She seems perfect for the role and I couldn’t imagine anyone else playing her.

After Carol, I was craving a true, passionate lesbian romance and I turned to Ann Bannon. Ha! Little did I know.

At first, I thought the budding romance between young and timid Laura and confident and charming Beth was really cute. I loved how protective Beth was of Laura, how despite her teasing, she never means to hurt her. This, however, proves to be her biggest mistake. I never fully warmed to Laura, until the end, when she surprised me, by showing how much she has grown and how much Beth had underestimated her. I found Laura throughout the book to be annoying and spoiled and whiney. I liked Beth at first, I liked how sure of herself and fearless she was. But as soon as she starts falling in love with a guy, I started losing interest. This was supposed to be my steamy, forbidden, lesbian story! What was happening? Alas, heteronormative was happening. Of course, Beth hadn’t met the right guy yet. And of course, Charley was finally that right guy. Who tells her that lesbian relationship can only happen during childhood, that women should like men only, otherwise they are refusing to grow up and to accept reality.

Thankfully Laura is having none of this shit. Even though it takes a while for her to stop acting all confused and clueless about who she is. I liked the ending, which is supposedly a bad one for their romance? Except it’s the best ending that I could have asked for. I couldn’t wait for Laura to get rid of Beth. It took her way too long. That ending gives me hope. And it’s the reason why I will keep reading these books, and hopefully, finally, get my steamy, forbidden, lesbian story.

Compared to Carol, there was a lot more talk about how homosexuality is wrong and illegal and how it can stop a woman from growing up. Surprisingly in Carol, Therese never questions herself about her love for Carol. It just happens and she accepts it completely. She might have posed for a moment to consider how society viewed her sexual inclinations, but she never lets them affect her. The only time the issue is raised is by a man, who is speaking out of hurt and disappointment. It’s never raised after that. It’s not Carol and Therese’s concern to judge or hate themselves for what they’re doing, which is beautiful. Of course, there are consequences to pay, because they are still lesbians in the ‘50s, but I loved how self-hate or denial was never even a thing for them.

In Odd Girl Out, the issue is raised again and again. Mostly by men, but also by Beth, who does really think that lesbianism is a thing to outgrow, and by her friend Emmy, who doesn’t even begin to comprehend how a woman could find another woman attractive. ‘What’s there to want?’ she says. But as much as she doesn’t understand it, she doesn’t judge it either.  The only one who isn’t affected by this is Laura, and that’s her redeeming quality. Like Therese, she never questions her feelings, never doubts them and never betrays them. Which is something to admire in both of them.

I probably will never find the passionate, Tipping-the-Velvet kind of romance I want from these books, but I will keep reading them. I love the vintage setting, I love to read lesbian stories that were genuinely written at that time, and I love to see how much they dared, and how much they could get away with.

And hopefully Carol the movie will be as satisfying as that trailer promises to be.

Attachments - Rainbow Rowell

Oh, Rainbow. I want to hug all of your books, and then I want to hug all of your characters, and then I want hug all of you. I just feel very huggy every time I read your stuff. And now I feel like I have to save up Landline for later times because that’s the only one I haven’t read yet and after that there won’t be any more and if I read it as fast as I read this one  I’ll be done tomorrow and that’s not OK. So I’ll wait a bit longer.  I need to know there is still something Rainbow-y out there that I haven’t read.

Attachments is another Rowell-y romantic story, except this is a romantic comedy.  And it’s her first book, which I would have never guessed. Set in 1999, when the Internet was still new and there was no Facebook or Youtube or Tumblr and god knows what people were doing online back then. Nevertheless, they still managed to waste time on it. Come to think of it, wasting time is a big theme in this story. There’s Beth and Jennifer, two journalists who email back and forth at work and talk about their life and sometimes even about work, but they never seem to actually, you know, work. And then there’s Lincoln, who is the guy who’s supposed to check all the filtered emails workers send to each other and then report them if they’re using them inappropriately. This was before Gmail, although I’m pretty sure Hotmail already existed then so why weren’t they using that. Anyway, Beth and Jennifer aren’t using Hotmail, they’re using the company email service which can be controlled and flagged. Their emails get flagged constantly, but they’re so funny and smart and likeable in their messages that Lincoln can’t bring himself to report them. Mainly because that would mean stop reading their messages and he doesn’t want to do that. Beth’s and Jennifer’s emails are the only form of entertainment that Lincoln has at work. He works late shifts  and doesn’t have much to do, so he’s always hard pressed to find something to fill his day and not make him feel like he’s wasting his time and his life. Which he still does, inevitably. And then slowly but surely, he starts falling in love with Beth, even before meeting her.

“There’s something really romantic about that. Every woman wants a man who’ll fall in love with her soul as well as her body. But what if you meet her, and you don’t think she’s attractive?”

“I don’t think I care what she looks like,” Lincoln said. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Not that it wasn’t exciting in a weird way, not to now, to imagine.

“Oh, that is romantic,” Christine said.

Now, these premises could be extremely creepy. And I’m sure some people might still think they are. But it’s all down to Lincoln and his adorableness. I wish I was straight so I could have a proper crush on a fictional character and cry because he’s not real. He is perfect. OK, he’s not because he keeps reading those emails even though he should have stopped as soon as he decided he would never give them a warning. And I did cringe every time those messages appeared on paper because it meant he hadn’t stopped reading them LIKE HE SHOULD HAVE. But still. He’s Lincoln and he’s precious. He never really got over his first love which he thought was gonna last forever; he plays Dungeons & Dragons on Saturday nights; he prefers reading books then going out in loud bars with crappy music and smelly people to try and meet girls. But most importantly, he’s nice. Incredibly, genuinely, painfully nice. Not boring nice. Just REALLY nice.And apparently also really cute. Now, remember how wasting time was one of the big themes? Well, that also relates to Lincoln’s approach to life, and, more specifically, to how he keeps putting off meeting Beth, even when he’s completely sure he’s completely in love with her. It might have something to do with the fact that Beth has a boyfriend, but still, boyfriend’s a douche. It was one of them cases of seeing the pages getting dangerously near to the end and realising with increasing anxiety that there was no time for EVERYTHING THAT NEEDED TO HAPPEN. 

But even without all the things that I needed to happen that weren’t happening , I loved everything that leads up to them. Lincoln’s relationship with Doris.Christine and all his D&D friends, but mostly Christine.His mother.HIS MOTHER. I fucking loved his mother, I think I had a tiny bit of a crush on her, actually. She sounds really cool, what with her doing massages at festivals and knowing all about how plastic is bad for you because it leaches into the food and how she’s divorced and then had a child from some guy that we don’t know anything about. It’s all very intriguing. Also, she’s funny and she cooks delicious meals for Lincoln and she really cares for him. OK, she might have some trouble letting him go and live his life, but nobody’s perfect.

And I loved all the song references (which I sometimes played on my phone on youtube as soundtrack when they were mentioned), and all the movie references and now I really want to watch The Goodbye Girl and ruin any other romantic comedy I might watch after that.

And of course I enjoyed reading Beth’s and Jennifer’s  emails, which were witty and smart and funny and sometimes insightful,  but not as much as I loved reading about Lincoln.

The only downside effect of reading Rainbow Rowell is that now I feel like I want a romance like this. Something so intense and everlasting and inevitable. But without the invasion of privacy. 

The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender - Leslye Walton

This is a story about a lot of things and a lot of people. But mainly it’s about a strange family and its women. About Ava and her speckled wings, her mother Viviane with her extraordinary sense of smell and her certainty about who the love of her life is, and about Ava’s grandmother Emilienne with her broken heart, her ghosts and her way of looking at things closer than other people. It’s mostly about Love and all the different ways it takes shape. But it’s about so much more.

Its beauty and charm rely as much on the characters - all with their unique stories and all worthy of your attention – as on its style. It reminded me of Isabelle Allende’s books. I drank them in my teen years, so I guess marketing this for YA isn’t such a strange idea when you think about it (although it really wasn’t originally, the publishing market works in mysterious ways). So, yes, the style is lyrical and poetic and SouthAmericanish, except it’s set first in New York and then in a small town near Seattle throughout the 1900s and '50s (I think. I lost track of time after a certain point) There’s a lot of that magic realism found in Allende’s and Marquez’s novels, but it’s more of a feel than anything else. This book stands on its own feet. Many strange, unexplained things happen and it would be fascinating to analyse their meaning, their symbols and metaphors, especially Ava’s wings, But I for one just enjoyed reading the story as it is, sympathizing with its characters (my favourite is probably Viviane, although I did love all the women in the book. So. Many. Women. And Gabe. I loved Gabe.), reading about their troubles and sorrows and worrying about whether they will ever find happiness.

Leslye Walton has just acquired the “author that makes me want to read everything they have ever written” status for me. Thing is, I will have to wait because this was her first book. Bummer. As soon as I finished it, I wanted to go back and read it again. And this doesn’t happen often. If I had to find a negative criticism would be that it was over too soon. I had only just started getting to know the characters and then it was time to say goodbye already? I needed way more time with this story. A lot more time.

Oh and it could be have been gayer (was I the only one who had high hopes for Emilienne and Whilelmina? Was that true subtext or am I imagining things)

The Paying Guests - Sarah Waters

The Paying Guests gave me an eerie feeling that Sarah Waters had surreptitiously been on my Tumblr and somehow found this short story I had posted a few years ago about the affair between a landlady and her lodger. One of them was even called Lilian! How weird is that. So weird.But also kind of flattering.To think that me and Sarah Waters have had such similar ideas for a story. The main difference is that she set out to write a proper novel about it; I just wrote it for the smut.

So, for most of the book, I enjoyed reading about “my” idea written beautifully and with more complex ideas than just having the two characters shagging each other. I loved the tension between them, the courting, the romance, everything. I loved Frances more than Lilian, but then I liked Lilian because she liked Frances. It was always in the back of my mind the idea that Frances could have done better than Lilian, but until around THE THING happens, I could have lived with it. I could have lived with many things. I didn’t expect this story to go well. We’re talking adultery here. There must be some sort of drama at some point. I was expecting scandal, regret, hurt, jealousy, disillusionment, even the end of the romance. What I wasn’t prepared for was for the novel to turn into a legal case. To have a good third of the book deal with a trial was not what I was looking forward to. I find court cases in movies, TV shows and books extremely boring.  But as it turned out, Sarah Waters loves all that shit and she was actually INSPIRED by murder cases in the ‘20s so much so that she wrote a novel about it.

If only I had read the author’s notes beforehand. But, of course, who does that.  

So, as you might have noticed,I didn’t warn you about spoilers because I think people should be aware of what they’re getting into. There will be a trial for murder, and it will go on until the rest of the book. There, now you know. If you are into that, you’ll love it - because  it’s still Sarah Waters writing, it’s not like she handed it over to John Grisham. If you don’t, well, tough shit. You had more than half of the book to enjoy without dealing with courts and witnesses and body of evidences and verdicts that take ages to arrive. And even if you didn’t get into the romance completely (it did wear thin after a while, to be honest. Because Lilian), you still have the writing. The writing is gorgeous, as usual.

So yay for lesbians. Not so yay for murder case trials. 

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay - Michael Chabon

You know that feeling when you’re in the middle of a book and you’re enjoying it so much and you’re so into it that even when you’re not reading it you’re filled with a sense of purpose and excitement and comfort because you have that to go back to? This is what I felt reading Kavalier and Clay. I’ve finished it now and although I am quite sad to leave the characters I have loved for the last few days (weeks? It’s a long book), I am still lingering on that happy mood.

It’s not that it’s an amazingly cheerful book. It wasn’t the themes of the book that filled me with happiness. It did have its share of grief and regret and loss and abandonment, after all. It was more that I knew I had found a story I cared about, with people I wanted to know and worry for, and love even when they were being idiots. And that made me happy.

It’s about two cousins in New York, who are in their late teens when the story starts, at the beginning of World War II.  Joe Kavalier is a Jew who has left Prague, his hometown, in an extremely dangerous and adventurous fashion to escape Hitler’s persecution, and Sammy Clay (Klayman) is his cousin whom Joe meets when he arrives in Brooklyn. Now, Sammy is a wannabe writer with a head brimful of ideas and Joe is a talented artist who needs to raise a lot of money as soon as possible to save his family. Naturally, in the heyday of comic books and Superman, they team up to create a new kind of hero, The Escapist, who offers the hope of freedom “to all those who toil in the bonds of slavery and the shackles of oppression”. Basically, he fights Nazis.

The core of the story lies, for me, in the bond between the two cousins, the ease in which they both fall into each other’s charms and work to create something iconic and meaningful. Their magic was at its peak when they were together, feeding off each other’s ideas and enthusiasm. Separated, they drifted away. Together, they shone. 

But of course, they all have their demons. For Joe it’s the sense of hopelessness and failure for not being able to do anything for his family, except saving all the money he makes. For Sam it’s the sense of inadequacy that always cripples him; it’s his lack of confidence and appreciation for what he’s brilliant at. And the understandable reluctance at admitting his sexuality even to himself.

I liked both cousins individually and as a pair, but I absolutely ADORE Sammy. Joe is handsome and skilful and broody and confident, but Sammy completely won me over with his awkwardness, his unease in social situations, his big heart and his big emotions, his inherent fragility that made me want to protect him from the evils of the worlds and deliver him to a safe haven of loving care with Tracy Bacon wrapped in a bow for him to enjoy without guilt or shame.

When the THING happens (as there’s always a THING at some point), everything goes to shit. They all make crappy decisions, more shitty things happen and then some more, until I was like will these people be ever happy again and will I ever stop being angry at their nonsensical behaviour. OK, I was mostly angry at Joe, but Sammy also kinda screwed up at some point, even though I tend to be more lenient with his decision.

To my surprise, I did forgive Joe eventually and I did recover some hope for these two and for Rosa. Because yes, there’s also a Rosa, the only main female character worth mentioning (forget about the Bechdel test, just don’t even think about it), whom I did quite like eventually, when she managed to become her own character, and not just a love interest. But she had so much more potential. So Much More. Sigh.

So, yeah, despite the piteous female representation and the fact that I had to look up an average of three words per page because “rich language” doesn’t even begin to cover it, it was totally worth the time and the emotions.

The earth hums in B flat - Mari Strachan

This one deceived me from the start. I was led to believe that it was going to be about this little girl flying at night. I thought that would be the main theme, but I was so so wrong. Nevertheless, I kept reading. I’m not sure what it was that kept me reading so fast, but I finished it in less than three days, and I’m not a fast reader, usually. Partly, it was because I wanted to know what happened, but also, I kinda wanted to finished it quickly, so I could move on to another book, which is not the best thing that can happen when reading. I’d normally leave a book unfinished if that is the case, but with this one, I just couldn’t, so it’s saying something. I didn’t love it, for reasons I’ll explain later, but it made me want to read it till the end, so I mustn’t have hated it either. So it’s about Gwenni, a welsh girl living with her family in a small village in Wales, in the 1950s (but I only know this because it says so on the back of the book, it could have been the 60s or even the 70s, it’s never really specified). Gwenni is what her mother calls peculiar, or odd. She doesn’t do things like everyone else does. For starters, she claims she can fly, but only at night in her sleep. Then she sees things, like the Toby jugs blushing or sighing. She also loves reading, especially detective stories. When someone goes missing in the village, the husband of Mrs Evans, her teacher and the mother of two girls who Gwenni sometimes babysits, Gwenni decides to investigate his case. But when the body is found and the case is declared to be murder, things get complicated, and Gwenni is left to figure out secrets that no one else could ever know. This is not just a murder mystery. It’s not even simply a murder mystery. The murderer is easily figured out, even though Gwenni takes longer as she’s missing some bits of crucial information. She’s a little older than Flavia de Luce, but Flavia could have thought Gwenni a thing or two about solving mysteries, I’m sure. The settings are indeed very similar to the The sweetness at the bottom of the pie, but the themes couldn’t be more different. Also, Gwenni’s voice is a lot younger than Flavia’s, even a bit too young for her age. So it’s not just about the murder. It’s about secrets, things that families keep hidden for fear of being shunned or talked about behind their backs. Or about secrets that everyone knows but no one talks about because they’re too painful or embarrassing or because people would rather forget about them. But Gwenni wants to find out about all of them, to understand what is going on in her family, why is her mother always crossed with her, and why she would never talk about her grandmother… Slowly Gwenni finds out. She asks around, she listens, and sometimes she’s told, even when she doesn’t want to know. But all the time, she never gets angry or frustrated. She just keeps going. My heart ached for her when her mother blamed her for every little thing that happens in her life. To her, Gwenni can’t do anything right. She’s one of the reasons I couldn’t love this book. As you read on, you realise that her mother is slipping slowly into madness. But even before she does, you can’t help but hoping that Gwenni would say something back, rebel, get angry, ask why it’s always her fault. But she doesn’t. She seems to either accept the blame, or forgive her mother and love her no matter what. And this kind of behaviour made me love Gwenni even more but sometimes made me frustrated, as I can remember what being 12 and angry at your mother means. You don’t just swallow up and get on with it. You kick and scream and cry. At least that’s what I did. But not Gwenni. She has her Tada by her side. He seems to be the kindest, sweetest father a girl would want, and a caring, loving husband. But even though he sounds like a saint, he’s not without blame either, even though it’s only hinted at, and never fully explored. I think I would have loved this book a lot of more, if we had spent more time with Mrs Evans. There’s always a character in a book that I crush on and this time it was Mrs Evans. She’s kind and beautiful, she’s understanding and intelligent, she’s a teacher and has hundreds of books which she offers to lend to Gwenni. Her only fault is to put up with an abusive husband. What happens to her is almost inevitable but too sad to even think about it. The flying aspect is almost marginal, even though Gwenni talks about it all the time. We’re left to decide whether it’s her way to escape the reality of the situation, or if she can truly fly at night. It’s not too relevant, though. Which is one of the reasons why I was a bit disappointed.

The ocean at the end of the lane - Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman is not just one of my favourite authors. I look up to him. I agree with almost every he says about life and about reading, about art, about writing. I haven’t always enjoyed everything he’s written, but I’ve always taken a sort of comforting pleasure knowing that he exists and he’s still writing, still being a wonderful human being. And yet, I always approach his new works (as I do any other work by a beloved author) with a certain degree of caution. I suppose it’s the fear of being disappointed, of having to admit that, even though you love the man, you didn’t love the book. Or that you did like it, but weren’t blown away by it like you wanted to. In Neil Gaiman's case, anything short of that, would be a slight disappointment  I’m so glad to say that this wasn’t the case.[ warning: slight spoilers ahead]
 It started out quite slow for me. Well, slow for the first 3 or 4 pages. But remember, expectations! Then it got interesting and gripping, but still not completely AMAZING, and so it stayed until almost half way through it. I was prepared to give it 4 stars on my Librarything, which is the rating I give to books I enjoyed quite a lot, but had just a tiny bit of awesome missing. Then I kept reading and Lettie Hempstock saves our young narrator’s ass one more time, but this time it’s a lot more impressive and I’m like OK this is definitely a 4.5 stars at least! And then all of a sudden the awesome button was switched on, and I was swept away by it. I’m not sure when it happened. It could have been when our little one is plunged into the ocean pond and is filled with the knowledge of the universe and of all things. Or when the Hempstocks work the snip and cut magic on the narrator’s father. Or basically everything that happens until the epic finale. OLD MRS HEMPSTOCK, people. Oh my crackers, I didn’t expect to love her that much. But she totally had a serious case of Kicking Ass, what with all the glowing and the silver hair and the commanding voice and the baddies going all scaredy cats in front of her and going fuck this shit we’re out of here. It reminded me of my favourite moment of an anime I used to watch when I was little, about this group of travellers who went around medieval Japan and encountering all sorts of shenanigans, and at first the baddies always went ha ha you can’t stop us, you’re only a bunch of misfits losers, but then at the end the old man in the group always took out his Shogun symbol, a talisman or something, the theme music played and all the baddies went “oh shit, it’s the Shogun” and bowed in front of him. Except Old Mrs Hempstock is even better then the Shogun as the power is within her. We don’t know exactly who she is or how she came to be. Just like we don’t know how old or exactly who is Lettie or Ginnie. Old Mrs Hempstock claims to have been there when the moon was being made, and I tend to believe it’s true. But I like that we’re not told exactly who this wonderful family is. They could be called goddesses, a triad of powerful beings, that are essentially one single being represented in three forms, the maiden, the mother and the crone. But even to think of defining their identities feels like diminishing their power as characters. Their farm is as bit like Rivendell, the last homely house in the Lord of the Rings. Nothing bad can happen in it. Everything and everyone feels welcoming and safe and comforting. Food is always ready and is the most delicious food you can think of, there is always a full moon shining on your bedroom, and you don’t need to worry about anything. Outside, they still exude power, but they’re not invincible. At least, Lettie isn’t, even though the seven-year-old narrator would have trusted her to bring him safely out of hell. Which she does essentially, but at what cost…
 I loved the epilogue. I did wish we could have had another encounter with Lettie. I want to know if she’s really OK. I wanted to see her. But it’s probably more perfect this way. Melancholic like the beginning, but a little bit more hopeful. I agree with Ana that it felt like home, like knowing to be in safe, known territory. This is what I love and I can’t get enough of it. It also felt a lot like reading another author I love and whom I should read more, Charles de Lint. He’s also fond of powerful women with strange powers, or scary beings and wonderful otherworldly atmospheres.
Now that it’s over, I wish this isn’t the end for the Hempstock family. I need more of them. I want to read a whole series about them. And read their adventures on comic books and any other form. And why isn’t there more fanart out there?
 To conclude, I’d like to point you out to this post about the female representation in the book. It’s really quite good.

The Observations - Jane Harris

Oh Bessy, I love you and I miss you and why did this book had to be so short? OK, I admit that five hundred pages do not constitute a short book, and yet, I could have read another five hundred EASILY, because Bessy. 

I loved her instantly and quite unexpectedly as I had no idea she was going to be so flipping funny and adorable and smart and sweet… I was only looking for another Historian kind of book, something that had the same atmospheres, the same power to grab you. Little did I know.The Observations couldn’t be more different than The Historian. There are elements of gothic in it, but Bessy’s voice changes everything and it’s what makes this book so special and so addictive. It’s true that I have a weakness for Victorians maids stories. It probably started with Jane Eyre, even though I’ve always liked stories told from a working-class point of view. With their accents and all. So beware, if accents and bad grammar are not your thing, you might be bothered by Bessy’s narrative. Although I find hard to believe ANYONE would dislike Bessy.

So what happens in this book aside from Bessy being awesome? All sorts of things. It starts with Bessy, only 15 or thereabouts, being taken in as a housemaid by the beautiful Arabella Reid as soon as she finds out that Bessy can write and read, although she’s useless at actual housework stuff. She asks her, in return for her job offer, to write down her thoughts in a journal every night, but she doesn’t tell her why. Soon, Bessy finds out that her “missus” requires her to do a lot of other peculiar things, which have no apparent reason. Although Bessy is dumbfounded by her new mistress’ behaviour, she’s also almost instantly fascinated by her, and soon enough she develops this GINORMOUS and hopeless crush on Arabella. Seriously, Bessy has it really bad for her missus, so much that I had high hopes the book would soon veered toward Leztown, although I had never heard that was the case so I wasn’t realistically hoping it would, just quietly daydreaming about it. But then something happens and BAM, the book takes a completely (or so it seems) different turn. I still stayed on Bessy’s side all the way, all the time, especially then, when all I wanted was to give her a hug and tell her she didn’t deserve all that shit. I cheered for her and supported her even though I knew something awful was bound to happen, but still, she had her reasons. And then, little by little, her past is revealed and THE POOR CHILD OH MY GOD. It was almost a little too much, a little too tragic. It would have been completely over the top if, once again, Bessy’s voice didn’t level it all up. Or maybe, by that time I was so enamoured by her, just as much as she was by her missus, that I could have accepted anything she threw at me. What happens after is an almost inevitable avalanche, except I can’t say that what happens next (especially to Arabella) was so obvious. That I didn’t predict. But a lot of other big revelations could have been easily guessed. But does this make the book less addictive, less fun, less engrossing? No, it doesn’t.

So, yeah, I devoured this chunkster in less than 4 days and now I am at a loss because I can’t bring myself to be as invested in a book, and it’s all Bessy’s fault. 

The Historian - Elizabeth Kostova

I’m quite surprised at myself for being able to finish this whopper of a book (704 pages in tiny, tiny – and sometimes even tinier – print). Only until a couple of months ago I could hardly finish ANY book, let alone a mighty chunkster of these proportions. But then I got myself out of the slump by reading John Green (The Fault In Our Stars) and it all went smoothly thereon. The fact that I can’t look at a computer screen anymore without hurting my eyes for hours on end has helped my reading craving too (as well as  my ukulele-playing skills). And the fact that sometimes I can’t even read because my eyes hurt too much, makes me want to read even more. So yeah, even though it’s going to hurt, I really REALLY want to talk about this book. It’s such a perfect time for a book like this now. I look outside the window and it’s the mistiest weather I have even seen. It’s drizzly and eerie and mysterious and atmospheric exactly like how The Historian feels. On such a day, I’ve gone and read its last page. So, what is this book about? It’s about many things, but mostly it’s about Dracula. I didn’t even realise it was, when I started it. If I did, I might have put it aside, to be honest. The only way I like my vampires is when they’re slain by Buffy (or when she occasionally shags them). I wouldn’t want to read 700+ pages on them. I have never even read Dracula! So I started reading unaware of anything(I did have a vague notion that it was a horror/gothic story but nothing more than that) except that the beginning sounded promising. The first couple of pages were enough to draw me in. Then on chapter 2, the narrator’s father finds a Mysterious Book that doesn’t have anything written on except for the word DRAKULYA and the picture of a dragon in the middle and it’s old and smelly but he puts it away because he has more important things to do but the book doesn’t want to stay away and keeps reappearing MYSTERIOUSLY on his desk until he can’t ignore it no more. That’s what did it. I simply had to keep reading to find out what this book was and where it came from and why it wanted to be with our guy so bad. From then on it’s a roller-coaster of page-turning. But not in a fast-paced-thrilling-race-after-the-bad-guys kinda way. The book manages to take its time to build up tension and atmospheres but also – especially - characters and places. Its tone is quite gloomy and foreboding throughout, but there are many beautiful moments of tenderness and warmth and even happiness scattered around. I especially loved Paul and Helen’s developing relationship. I shipped them from the start, even though I didn’t need to work too hard on my shipping as it was quite obvious they were endgame. Still, I can’t resist my shipper heart, especially with two characters like them. Paul is gentle and kind caring and a great scholar to-be, but he’s also quite awkward around Helen, who is admittedly intimidating at first. But maybe that’s one of the reasons why I loved Helen the most, out of all the characters. She’s harsh and stern, but also extremely clever and resourceful, with a sharp sense of humour. In short, she’s irresistible. To me and to Paul, as well. Except, I had the persistent feeling that he was more in love with her father, Prof. Rossi, than with her. Or at least, equally as in love.Beside Helen, my other favourite characters are all secondary ones. I LOVED Mr and Mrs Bora. More as a couple than individually, still, they are both the absolute adorbz in their own right. Also, Mrs Bora made me salivate over all those magnificent dishes she kept serving. Now that I think of it, I salivated quite a lot over all the delicious things these people got to taste around the world. They might have been in danger of being turned into vampires any minute, but they sure kept themselves well fed. Another character who stole my heart and made it ache like nobody’s business is Helen’s mother. The tragedy of her story is almost unbearable. That she remained so kind and loving even after all that is a miracle and it makes me love her even more. Then there was Baba Yanka, with her mighty, ancestral singing voice. Such a striking character. I really enjoyed learning about those traditions and folklore but most of all, I loved meeting her and wished we had had more time with her. Except there was Dracula’s tomb to find, so there wasn’t much time to waste.

Of course, being called The Historian and all that, there was quite a lot of history talk. I learned a great deal about the Byzantines and the Ottoman Empire and its sultans, not to mention Wallachia, which I didn’t even know it was a place that existed, before. It certainly made me want to visit all those places, not to retrace their history as I’m no historian, but to experience even a little of all that beauty described in the story. Budapest, Bulgaria, Istanbul, the Romanian woods… they weren’t places I necessarily wanted to visit before, but now they have acquired a certain mythological resonance. I don’t believe I’ll be able to experience them the same as they are described in the book, but I’d be interested in going anyway, even if only to taste all that amazing food!

There are a few minor criticisms that don’t take away from my enjoyment of it, but do need to be mentioned briefly. One is the suspension of belief I had to force on me anytime I read Paul’s narrative, which supposedly was written as a letter to his daughter. Those letters were way too detailed and way too personal to feel authentic. Especially as they were recounting facts happened so many years before, and that he mentioned at the beginning how he was in an awful hurry. I am grateful that they were told this way, as I experienced them as a narrative and not real letters, but because of that I had to forget that they were supposed to be letters. Another small thing is how Helen refers to herself as “Helen” as opposed to “Elena” which is how she’d been called all her life, prior to going to America. Especially later, when she’s talking to her father, or to anyone else for that matter. One does not change name so easily just to suit an American audience. And lastly, and a little sadly, I never managed to grow fond of the first narrator, Paul’s daughter. It started out promisingly, I was ready to invest on her, but then as the story drifts away from her and focuses on past events, I found myself resenting the bits about her, as the past was a lot of more intriguing and I was impatient to go back to it. I was glad we got to spend more time with her parents, but at the same time, we lost the opportunity to care for another character, who initially promised to be worthy of being cared for.

Even though I mentioned earlier that it's a book mostly about Dracula, i've hardly mentioned him. That's because, even though the vampire story is the drive that brings the story forward and it was fascinating and morbid just enough to keep you interested, what made me love the book were the other "many things" the book is about. The love for knowledge, and the curiosity that fuels this love. The strong bond between the characters, may it be romantic feelings or deep, pure friendship or simple motherly love. They are so enduring and absolute, possibly to counteract all the hatred and cynicism and cruelty emanating from Dracula.  

So what I'm saying is, don't worry if you're not into vampires. And don't worry if you are into vampires. There's something for everyone. Now go read it.

The Privilege of the Sword - Ellen Kushner

Few books make me want to start reading them again as soon as I've finished them. This one did. Of course I finish a lot of books which I've enjoyed immensely but I don't feel the need to turn to page one again, once they're over. With this one, I simply wanted to go over it again, to write down everything I wanted to say about it, all the quotes I wanted to single out, all the exclamation marks I wanted to add.
But if you had asked me ten or even twenty pages in, I would have laughed. The writing style is certainly not the first thing I would praise about this book. Maybe I don't read enough popular fiction to be accustomed to this kind of unpolished writing, but at first I was shocked, and also slightly amused, at the bluntly lack of elegance in the prose. The best side of it is that it's not even remotely trying to be a well-written book. It wants to be a hugely fun and entertaining read, and it certainly succeeds at that. The writing style is the only negative comment you're going to read about it here. There rest is all going to be like "asdfasdfghgfdssasdsa OMG ALL THE FEELS YOU HAVE TO READ THIS sdfgdsasdfds omg". So now you're warned, we can keep going.

The reason why I decided to read it in the first place is Memory's glowing review. At that time I was still working in the bookshop and this book was on sale, so I bought it. This is how long it takes me to read books, yes... So anyway, I read it this summer and (here we go) asdfdsdfgsaddsaasdsasdfghjk I loved it so much. Where do I even start?
The characters. So lovable and funny and well rounded, I really didn't want to leave them. Especially Katherine. What a character development she's had. I never thought I would love her so much at first. But she slowly turns into one of my favourite literary heroes ever. She's just like who I wanted to be when I was little, when I pretended I was Wonder Woman, saving the unfortunate and defeating the villains. She's definitely earned a place in the my Olympus of female heroes. She cracked me up with her delightful mix of defiant attitude, romantic ideals and natural disposition to despise (and fight) every injustice. I can't tell you enough how much I loved her.

Then there's Marcus and his friendship with Katherine. I never really saw them as a proper couple. For me they're always going to be BFF, constantly up to mischief and adventures. I wish there was an extended version of this book with extra bits dedicated to their wondering in the city and getting into all sorts of trouble.

The Duke, I still haven't mentioned the Duke. He's not a villain per se, but he's not really the nicest guy around either. You learn to love him for all his faults and his attitude, and without him the book wouldn't be what it is. He's called the Mad Duke for a reason, and I believe there's a lot I don't know about him, in a previous book in the same series. But I think I can sum it up nicely with one single quote:

"I do not make the rules" he said creamily. "This annoys me, and so I comfort myself by breaking them."

He's the quintessential decadent nobleman, who loves to hold orgies and lavish parties, but who has a secret wounded heart which he conceals behind a facade of sarcasm and wit.

The Black Rose. Another character I would read a whole book about, happily. A mysterious, beautiful actress who plays the main part in the theatre adaptation of Katherine and her friend Artemisia's favourite book. They both unashamedly fangirl about her and her acting, and I found myself grinning when I recognised the signs:

I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep me from squeaking out loud. As it was, I began moving my lips along with the lines. I knew them all, from the opening chapter of my favourite book.

and also

The Black Rose swept back onstage, glowing with tragic dignity. Her magnificent bosom swelled as she took a deep breath and bowed low to the crowd. The girl behind me started gasping, "I'll die, I'll die... Oh just hold me! Isn't she fine? I've written her a dozen letters, but she never answers."

[Those who follow me on Tumblr would know who I think the Black Rose looks like in my head...]

The Black Rose and the effects she has on Katherine - a proper, sudden, sexual awakening - made me have high expectations for Katherine. There is a lot of teasing on that front, but, alas, it wasn't developed as much as I would have wanted. Although her jealousy for the Black Rose towards the Duke made me smile more than once. Why do you tease us so, Ms Kushner?

More things I loved about this book: The relationship between Katherine and Artemisia. How they both reenact their favourite book, choosing to be its characters in the secret letters they write to each other (Katherine being the male hero and Artemisia his lover), and how real and full of meaning all of it is for them. They're not playing, they're both very serious in their intentions, but they're still teenagers and the way they write, their embellished and overly dramatic language is endearing to the point that I wanted to screech and squish both of them.

And then there's the important theme of violence against women. I haven't mentioned it's set in a romanticised past, similar maybe to 18th century Europe, with swordsmen, aristocracy and a serious lack of women's rights. It's in this context that the violence and the subsequent victim-blaming takes place. Unfortunately it's all very relevant today, but I loved how it was dealt. How Katherine is unequivocally the champion of wronged women and won't accept any other truth. How, even in her naivety of how her world works, she knows instinctively which sides she's on.

Is this enough to make you want to read it? I haven't said much about what the story is about, partly because I'm lazy and just wanted to gush about how much I loved this book, and partly because I didn't want to spoil it too much. Also, if you really want to know, there's Amazon and its clones to do that job.

The haidresser of Harare - Tendai Huebu

This is the story of Vimbai - the best hairdresser at her salon - and her unlikely friendship with Dumisani, a young and charming man, who has more than a secret to keep.
At the beginning of the story, told in first person by Vimbai, she is the queen bee of her salon. Its business depends on her and she knows it. She's an independent, young woman who is rearing a daughter on her own, while her family has turned her back on her and the father of her child doesn't have any intentions to take on his responsibilities. Then one day her life is turned upside down by the arrival at the salon of Dumisani. He claims to be a hairdresser and ask for a job, but it would have been just as surprising if he had said he was from Mars. A male hairdresser is not something these women have ever heard of. But he proves himself in practice, revealing a rare talent and a irresistible charisma with the customers. In fact, he is so gifted that he steals Vimbai's spotlight.
She initially hates him for that, but he is a very hard person to hate and quickly he wins her over, too.

It's not hard for the reader to guess what Dumisani's secret is, but our narrator Vimbai is completely oblivious. We follow her as she goes through life in Harare, dreaming of opening her own salon, praying at her Pentecostal church, and trying to make sense of this new strange and confusing friendship with Dumisani. It's easy to get sucked into her story, but as it progresses you can't help but brace yourself for the inevitable crash that the truth will cause.

I enjoyed this little book. I loved learning about life in Zimbabwe because before reading this I knew next to nothing about it. Now I feel like a caught a vivid glimpse of what it is like living there. It seems similar to Europe during and after the wars. It's chaotic. Its rulers struggle to keep order, shops are empty and food must be bought at the black market, the inflation is over the roof so money is exchanged by weight, battle squads beat up anyone who voices a dissent. Not an easy place to be in, definitely. So I have to admire Vimbai for surviving quite well, being her own woman, not letting anyone dictate her life or her decisions.
But I did find her voice to be over-dramatic sometimes.
I liked Dumisani a lot for the most part. But he is flawed too, and I cannot sympathize with how he used and ultimately misled Vimbai. I know why he did it, but I lost a bit of admiration for him. Of course, if I really knew what it means to have a secret like his in Harare, then maybe I'd be more understanding. I don't despise Dumisani, though, for the same reasons I don't despise Vimbai for acting like she did in the end.
It makes the story more realistic, if I can say so, and more human. This is not a fairy tale, or at least not a Disney one. But it's a story that is easy to get into, and has the bonus of being different from what I normally read, set in a real world so far from my own in many ways. So I appreciated it all the more for it.

The Whisper Jar - Carole Lanham

Spooky Halloween everyone!

Tonight is not just the time for witches and monsters to come out of their hiding holes and haunt us. It’s also the day The Whisper Jar is released. It’s no coincidence, as the whisper jar is the keeper of horrible, unmentionable secrets that should never be told. And yet, here they are, for everyone to read, all wrapped up in one deliciously creepy collection, beautifully crafted by author Carole Lanham. Read if you dare.

And you should dare, because they’re all great.

If you’re looking to extend the Halloween feel to the cold and windy nights of November, you should look no further and give this book a try. It’s the perfect choice. Here you’ll read tales of vampires, zombies, torture chambers, werewolves and mad creatures in the attic. They are tales of bitter jealousies and unhealthy desires, of sexual awakenings and dangerous games. Some of them deal with the supernatural, some others are simply human, but not less freaky because of that.

You’ll learn about the wonderful power of the jilly jally butter mints, and the terrible fate that has fallen upon those who dared to mess with them unsupervised. You’ll get acquainted with a flower fairy and how she came to be the bearer of a secret too painful for her to handle. There are all sorts, but ultimately they all share something: the power to make you want to read more, even if you know it’s not going to be pretty.

My personal favourite is the one called "The Blue Word". It’s a different setting than most of the other stories’ in the collection, which seem to have an early 1900s feel. "The Blue Word" is one of the exceptions. It’s set in a post-apocalyptic/dystopian world, during an unspecified future, where a virus has transformed half the population in flesh-eating zombies. The story is confined within the walls of the Salvation House, a school run by nuns, who are keeping their students from the dangers of the outside world. But of course nothing is what it seems in Carole Lanham’s world, and when the secret is revealed, it’s both chilling and heartbreaking. It would have been a fantastic idea for a novel, but I also see the appeal of keeping it short, it certainly heightens the final revelation’s effect.

I honestly can’t think of a better book to read this Halloween. OK, I haven’t read any other horror fiction books this time, but it doesn’t matter, ‘cause this was more than enough. It’s eerie, surprising, beautifully written, with dark humour and a strange, playful, inventive language. It was also very sensual, which is unusual seeing that it involves children and teenagers. So, yeah, it is about children, but it isn’t for children. I wouldn’t give it to them anyway, but I can imagine curious kids stealing it from their parents’ nightstand and reading it sneakily under their beds…and then scare the crap out of them for days to come.

One more thing. It seems like most of the stories have an underlining Christian theme. Nuns and priests are abounding, but definitely not in a comforting way. This brings me back to a line from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which is useful for the Whisper Jar too. “Note to self. Religion: creepy”.

This review is part of a blog tour.

To read what everyone else is saying about The Whisper Jar follow these links:

Kinder Trauma - Oct 28

http://www.kindertrauma.com/?p=25069

The Deepening World of Books - Oct 29

http://www.thedeepening.com/world-of-books/2011/10/29/the-whisper-jar-by-carole-lanham/

Author Cate Gardner - Oct 30

http://www.categardner.net/

Words words Words - Nov 2

http://ericanaone.com/

Storytellers Unplugged Nov 2

http://storytellersunplugged.com/

Littlebird Blue -Twitter Interview with Author Camille Alexa - Nov 3

http://littlebird-blue.blogspot.com/

To know more about the author visit her websites at the horror maker and carolelanham

A Star called Henry by Roddy Doyle

I've been a slow reader lately, but I'm very proud of myself because I've been sticking to the TBR list quite closely and reading books that have been on my shelf for way too long.

One of these veterans is A star called Henry by Roddy Doyle. Henry has been waiting since early 2008 to make his acquaintance with me. It was worth it, although I did struggle through it a bit and towards to end I almost felt like giving it up. But then my curiosity to know how it all ended made me continue and I'm glad I did, because it did pick itself up again.

A star called Henry follows the life of Henry Smart, a boy growing up in the early 1900s in Dublin. He is a street urchin who looks much older than he is and who learns quickly how to survive in the dark Dublin alleys. He's smart by name and by nature, always working out the best way to bring food into his and his little brother's mouth.
I was really absorbed by Henry's accounts of his adventures on the streets. One of the most memorable scenes for me happens at this time, when at only 8 or 9 years old, he decides he's going to get himself and his brother an education. So he shows up at a school's door, demanding just that. Here he meets Miss O'Shea, the teacher, another strong, amazing character who you will look forward to meeting again. The time that the two kids spend at the school is short, but very meaningful. It shows Henry the plain injustice of the system and it sets the scene for what comes later: the 1916 Rising and all the hopes of change that will come with it.

The second part of the book jumps straight from Henry being a child to him being a soldier fighting for Ireland at only 14. I was taken aback by this abrupt change of scene, I would have preferred to have followed Henry up to that point. But I got over it quickly as the accounts of the Rising and especially of the battle at the GPO ( the general post office) is so vivid that it takes you all the way back then, as if it was happening now. For someone who lives in Dublin, it was even more exciting. Reading the names of familiar streets being under fire or siege, realising that O'Connell street was actually still called Sackville Street, and that Eason's (a bookshop) was already there (!), were some of the reasons why I was captivated by this section. I also loved that Henry had such a close relationship to famous names like Michael Collins and James Connolly. If it wasn't for the strong language and the explicit sex scenes it would have been a great way to learn history at school.

The story after the rising remains as engaging . It's only when Henry starts being involved with the IRA again and training soldiers for Collins, that I started to doze off. I'm not one for war stories at all. Keep it short and sweet and I'll be yours. Drag it too long and you might loose me.
Also, I didn't like what the war did to Henry. It stripped him of his humanity, like any war would do. For all his cockiness, Henry had been a lovable character. His love for his brother, his charm, his energy, were palpable. But it was sometimes hard to find that Henry beneath the ugliness of what he was doing.

All in all, I'm glad I read it, even though it felt really long. I've learned a lot from it and I've seen a different side to Roddy Doyle's style. A richer, more ambitious way of writing, which worked well in this historical setting. To be honest though, I'll probably won't read the next two in the trilogy. They sound even murkier than this one, and I'm a bit of a softie. So I'll pass.

other reviews:
An adventure in reading
50 books project

Some speedy reviews

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
(<---by the way this cover here is not OK. What's up with Adam's face? Ugh).

With two writers as Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, there was really little chance I wouldn't like this. And yet, at first, I struggled a bit. There are so many story-lines and characters that it's hard to love it at first sight. I liked almost every one of them, but there wasn't time to get acquainted with one that you had to leave it and start with another. It gets better when you begin to know the characters. It's easier to leave them and follow others. But even then, I was always looking forward to spending more time with Adam and the Them. He's the kid who's supposed to bring forth the Armageddon, and the Them are his gang. But Adam, even with his powers, and being the Antichrist and all, is really hard to fear. I loved him to bits, him and his friends. Second close comes Anathema Device, because she's a witch and she reminds me a bit of Tiffany Aching. Then there's the angel Aziraphale and the demon Crowley, who are supposed to be mortal enemies, but get along better than they would ever admit. They also should facilitate the Armageddon, but none of them is keen on the idea of the world ending.

But most of all I loved to know I was in safe hands. There's nothing more comforting than that. Whatever happens, you're going to enjoy it, because it's Terry Pratchett and because it's Neil Gaiman and that's that. So I did. I laughed and I giggled and I was sorry when it ended, just like with every good book, although the ending was absolutely perfect, and probably my favourite part of the story.
Now I'm looking ever more forward to what that photo promises. How long do we have to wait?


About a boy by Nick Hornby
Again with the comforting here. It's Nick Hornby, I won't be disappointed. At least, it hasn't happened yet, so don't start listing all his worst books now, OK?
Anywho, this was brilliant and I wanted to hug it and the characters lots. Especially Marcus, the boy of the title. For those who never heard of this book, it's about a boy, (!), who is too grown up for his age and sticks out a lot. It's also about this other guy, Will, who hasn't grown up at all and still feels like a teenager. In a way they complement each other but they take a while to realise that. The funny bit is that I identify with both, at different times. It's easy to identify with Marcus, the outsider, generous, bullied kid. With Will was different. He's shallow at first, with no real purpose in life except to just get on with it. But I could sympathise with him when people criticised his seemingly aimless life. Since he doesn't have a job and doesn't have a family, people fail to see what use his life is. Sometimes, being unemployed I feel in a similar situation. I know I'll have to get a job, but even though I tell people I don't do anything, I do lots of things. Things I enjoy, but that I'm not paid for :P I'm great at filling my life with these little things, and if I could keep doing them for the rest of my life, I'd be happy. But for some people, it still looks like I don't do anything.
But anyway, the similarities with Will end here. He's a bit of a wanker to be honest, and even Marcus doesn't understand why he keeps going back to him. But he does, and their relationship gets stronger and stronger, until even Will starts seeing that Marcus is good for him. And how couldn't he? He's ADORABLE. And wise, and kindhearted and everything that's good in the world.
I can see this book making the top list of best books I have read at the end of the year :)

Gifts by Ursula Le Guin

This one was a slow burner. For a while I wasn't sure I was going to enjoy it, because the introductory part seems to go on forever. Nothing much happens for a long time as we're introduced to the world and powers of the Domains. But sure enough, almost without realising it, I found myself caring deeply for its main characters and enjoying the time I spent with them. It definitely isn't an action-packed story, but aside from the start I can't say it's slow either. It's definitely unusual. Intimate. And ultimately very powerful. I couldn't expect anything else from Ursula Le Guin.

The story take places in the imaginary rural Uplands where its communities are plagued by perpetual feuds and where each lineage has a particular power called gift. The story is told by Orrec, a teenage boy whose lineage possesses the power to undo, to destroy. But Orrec's gift only manifests itself wildly, and since it can't be controlled his father is forced to blindfold him, so not to harm anyone accidentally. Orrec's dear friend is Gry, a girl who has the gift to call animals. Traditionally this gift is used to call animals to the hunt, but Gry refuses to do so, putting her in a similar situation as Orrec's. They both struggle to be accepted and to find a suitable role in their rural society. Their relationship is beautifully portraited. You can feel their strong bond any time they're together, in very gesture and word. I really liked the two of them together. I also liked Orrec's mother, Melle. She's an outsider, a lowlander, and all her life she struggles to understand the ways of her husband's people, never fully grasping the meaning of the gifts and their importance. She's the only one in the Uplands to know the beauty of the written word which she teaches to both her son and Gry. Her love for storytelling is her gift to Orrec, and one that he treasures more than anything, his only moments of light in his blind dark years.
It was a wonderful book, one that shows its beauty little by little and will stay with you for a long while.