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juushikaTitle: When You Reach Me
Author: Rebecca Stead
Published: Wendy Lamb Books, 2009
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 200
Total Page Count: 228,390
Text Number: 729
Read Because: mentioned byambyr, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review:
The mundane events in a girl's life are knit together by her favorite book, A Wrinkle in Time. Stead has a fantastic eye for mundanity, the daily details, for building immersion and character growth. The larger plot is surprisingly simplistic, especially in retrospect: it's just one twist, which isn't foreshadowed so much as it is the book's core structure. An interesting combination of elements, but one that didn't gel for me. The function of—and therefore allusions and comparisons to—A Wrinkle in Time highlights my disappointment: this has little of that sense of wonder and whimsy, and where the details of A Wrinkle in Time provide necessary grounding, the speculative concept here is relatively decentralized and thus the details aren't providing balance. It's an unfair comparison, since I have a lot of nostalgia wrapped up in A Wrinkle in Time—but it's one that this book invites, so.... I loved some of the moments in this (particularly the protagonist's female friendships and feelings towards her mother), but never loved the book entire.
Title: The Handmaid's Tale
Author: Margaret Atwood
Published: Anchor Books, 1998 (1985)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 320
Total Page Count: 228,710
Text Number: 729
Read Because: co-read with Teja, from my personal library
Review: Reread August 2017: My earlier impression holds up. I enjoy Atwood's voice, although the wordplay and literary styling, while fluid and beautiful and personal, also become repetitive; more, it distracts from the dystopic/speculative worldbuilding: it's iconic, with the costumes and proper names and near-future dystopic styling, and I can see why it's stuck in the public imagination, but it's not awfully convincing (especially in origin). The commentary re: women's social roles and the complicity of "good" men is much more successful. The climax is rushed, but I like the use of the frame narrative/final chapter for contextualizing the story.
This reminds me of Elgin's Native Tongue, which I also think isn't entirely successful but which I think does more with similar themes, in large part because the women's underground society/cooperation in defiance of male dismissal and socially-enforced competition comes often, and early, and has huge impact on the plot; here, not so much.
(Not cyberpunk! not by or about dudes! This pick was a product of Teja's "read classic genre" inclinations. An interesting experience, for both of us. I went back to it explicitly trying not to be myself 11 years ago—to not get hung up on whether or not it was convincing and/or measured up to "competing" dystopias; to be more engaged in Atwood's style (and I do love her voice, always) and themes. ...And then we spent a lot of time feeling unconvinced by worldbuilding, together!
Is a convincing dystopia necessary, or does it stand alone as a warning, as a concept? Atwood's use of wordplay-as-interior-monologue works better in something like The Edible Woman, where it contributes to the central conceit; here, it frankly grows distracting. Atwood's insistence on not writing genre fiction is pretentious and frequently gets in her own way, but sometimes works for me—I love the balance in Oryx & Crake, where the larger interpersonal dramas overshadowed by the speculative crisis is productive to both halves. I take issue with the "technology = social control = sexist dystopia" chain of reasoning, because I feel that it moves the focus, becomes its own polemic; but I also think that's nitpicking, honestly, and details like Luke's reaction to the financial lockdown put the emphasis back on everyone's complicity in the system. Other chains of reasoning, such as the division of women's labor as an outlet for sexism, I think stand better on their own. They're not awfully productive as solutions to an infertility crisis—but there's never much interior logic in sexism.
But I think my suspension of disbelief would be aided by knowing anything about the Marthas, esp. how they're indoctrinated; by seeing more of the Econowives, and knowing how individuals value and/or begrudge being outside the division of women's labor. It's a narrow, barren narrative, one women locked in her empty room, and intentionally, and to great effect. But the end is rushed, so when the there's a chance to explore the wider world we don't see it. I want less competition as encouraged by the system, more cooperation in defiance of the system—because that, I think, is a productive takeaway for the reader; because it's evidence, not just in flashbacks or the oh-so-gradual character development, that sexism may privilege some women but it harms them all.
I have a better grasp of those nuances now; but I'm surprised to not especially disagree with 20-year-old me re: the way that speculative and dystopia and literary sell Handmaid.)
Title: Before I Fall
Author: Lauren Oliver
Narrator: Sarah Drew
Published: HarperCollins, 2010
Rating: 2 of 5
Page Count: 200 of 415
Total Page Count: 228,910
Text Number: 730
Read Because: this review, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: When a teenage girl dies after a party, she returns to relive the last day of her life. DNF at 50%. This has a speculative plot structure but is entirely contemporary in execution—the story of a high school mean girl coming to terms with the origins and consequences of her actions. It has an atmosphere entirely alien to my high school experience, petty and drunken, and exacerbated by the tone used for character voices in the audio narration—but perfect balanced between the social dramas and facile but resonant moments of profundity which do feel uniquely teenage. The groundhog day format makes for an exhaustively detailed, grindingly mundane exploration of this amped up high school life; I hated it, but suspect fans of contemporary YA would have better luck. This is the wrong book for me, and I'm glad to drop it; spoilers for the ending haven't changed my mind.
Author: Rebecca Stead
Published: Wendy Lamb Books, 2009
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 200
Total Page Count: 228,390
Text Number: 729
Read Because: mentioned by
ambyr, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County LibraryReview:
The mundane events in a girl's life are knit together by her favorite book, A Wrinkle in Time. Stead has a fantastic eye for mundanity, the daily details, for building immersion and character growth. The larger plot is surprisingly simplistic, especially in retrospect: it's just one twist, which isn't foreshadowed so much as it is the book's core structure. An interesting combination of elements, but one that didn't gel for me. The function of—and therefore allusions and comparisons to—A Wrinkle in Time highlights my disappointment: this has little of that sense of wonder and whimsy, and where the details of A Wrinkle in Time provide necessary grounding, the speculative concept here is relatively decentralized and thus the details aren't providing balance. It's an unfair comparison, since I have a lot of nostalgia wrapped up in A Wrinkle in Time—but it's one that this book invites, so.... I loved some of the moments in this (particularly the protagonist's female friendships and feelings towards her mother), but never loved the book entire.
Title: The Handmaid's Tale
Author: Margaret Atwood
Published: Anchor Books, 1998 (1985)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 320
Total Page Count: 228,710
Text Number: 729
Read Because: co-read with Teja, from my personal library
Review: Reread August 2017: My earlier impression holds up. I enjoy Atwood's voice, although the wordplay and literary styling, while fluid and beautiful and personal, also become repetitive; more, it distracts from the dystopic/speculative worldbuilding: it's iconic, with the costumes and proper names and near-future dystopic styling, and I can see why it's stuck in the public imagination, but it's not awfully convincing (especially in origin). The commentary re: women's social roles and the complicity of "good" men is much more successful. The climax is rushed, but I like the use of the frame narrative/final chapter for contextualizing the story.
This reminds me of Elgin's Native Tongue, which I also think isn't entirely successful but which I think does more with similar themes, in large part because the women's underground society/cooperation in defiance of male dismissal and socially-enforced competition comes often, and early, and has huge impact on the plot; here, not so much.
(Not cyberpunk! not by or about dudes! This pick was a product of Teja's "read classic genre" inclinations. An interesting experience, for both of us. I went back to it explicitly trying not to be myself 11 years ago—to not get hung up on whether or not it was convincing and/or measured up to "competing" dystopias; to be more engaged in Atwood's style (and I do love her voice, always) and themes. ...And then we spent a lot of time feeling unconvinced by worldbuilding, together!
Is a convincing dystopia necessary, or does it stand alone as a warning, as a concept? Atwood's use of wordplay-as-interior-monologue works better in something like The Edible Woman, where it contributes to the central conceit; here, it frankly grows distracting. Atwood's insistence on not writing genre fiction is pretentious and frequently gets in her own way, but sometimes works for me—I love the balance in Oryx & Crake, where the larger interpersonal dramas overshadowed by the speculative crisis is productive to both halves. I take issue with the "technology = social control = sexist dystopia" chain of reasoning, because I feel that it moves the focus, becomes its own polemic; but I also think that's nitpicking, honestly, and details like Luke's reaction to the financial lockdown put the emphasis back on everyone's complicity in the system. Other chains of reasoning, such as the division of women's labor as an outlet for sexism, I think stand better on their own. They're not awfully productive as solutions to an infertility crisis—but there's never much interior logic in sexism.
But I think my suspension of disbelief would be aided by knowing anything about the Marthas, esp. how they're indoctrinated; by seeing more of the Econowives, and knowing how individuals value and/or begrudge being outside the division of women's labor. It's a narrow, barren narrative, one women locked in her empty room, and intentionally, and to great effect. But the end is rushed, so when the there's a chance to explore the wider world we don't see it. I want less competition as encouraged by the system, more cooperation in defiance of the system—because that, I think, is a productive takeaway for the reader; because it's evidence, not just in flashbacks or the oh-so-gradual character development, that sexism may privilege some women but it harms them all.
I have a better grasp of those nuances now; but I'm surprised to not especially disagree with 20-year-old me re: the way that speculative and dystopia and literary sell Handmaid.)
Title: Before I Fall
Author: Lauren Oliver
Narrator: Sarah Drew
Published: HarperCollins, 2010
Rating: 2 of 5
Page Count: 200 of 415
Total Page Count: 228,910
Text Number: 730
Read Because: this review, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: When a teenage girl dies after a party, she returns to relive the last day of her life. DNF at 50%. This has a speculative plot structure but is entirely contemporary in execution—the story of a high school mean girl coming to terms with the origins and consequences of her actions. It has an atmosphere entirely alien to my high school experience, petty and drunken, and exacerbated by the tone used for character voices in the audio narration—but perfect balanced between the social dramas and facile but resonant moments of profundity which do feel uniquely teenage. The groundhog day format makes for an exhaustively detailed, grindingly mundane exploration of this amped up high school life; I hated it, but suspect fans of contemporary YA would have better luck. This is the wrong book for me, and I'm glad to drop it; spoilers for the ending haven't changed my mind.
