Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Review: The Impossible Knife of Memory by Laurie Halse Anderson

Laurie Halse Anderson's latest book for teens, The Impossible Knife of Memory, is about a young woman named Hayley struggling to adjust with her new "normal" life. For the past several years, she has been on the road with her father, never settling in one place too long. Her veteran father has a myriad of painful memories that follow him wherever he goes, leading him down a path of alcohol, drugs, and severe mood swings. With his PTSD, it is nearly impossible for him to live a normal, functional life. Since her the death of her mother and grandmother, and her stepmother's abandonment, Hayley has switched roles with her father, playing the parts of caregiver and defendant.

The book begins not too long after the start of this "normal" life. Hayley sets herself up as an underachieving rebel, seeming to care about little aside from the declining health of her struggling father. She has a very small group of close-knit friends that seem to level her out and provide her with the uniformity her father wants for her. It is clear from the start that she has above average intelligence, despite the fact that she has not attended structured school in years.

The start of the story is a bit slow to me. The characters are quite John Green-esque, with the snide, reserved girl and the overly witty, nerdy-but-cool boy. However, after several pages, the characters settle into their roles and the pages begin to move more fluidly. Really, Hayley is quite obnoxious, both in her treatment of others and in her filing everyone away into one of two categories: freaks or zombies.

Hayley’s brashness is one of the reasons this book started out a little slow to me, but then I realized that this trait does not make her unlikeable. Rather, it can be attributed to the fact that she feels no loyalty to anyone except her father, that she has been abandoned by all of her caretakers (by death or otherwise), and that she has never had the luxury of friends. It makes sense that she would assume an air of presumption and cynicism.

Trouble finds Hayley at all sides. Her boyfriend’s family is divided thanks to his drug-addicted sister, and her best friend’s parents are in the middle of a tumultuous divorce. Many of her teachers view her as a troublemaker, but she rejects the few that do try to help. Perhaps because Hayley has never known normal, she does not recognize how abnormal her life really is.

It is beyond frustrating to watch the deterioration of Hayley's father and her denial that goes alongside it. Hayley's love for her father runs so deep that she is blind to his descent, despite all the blatant cries for help. He flits from job to job, then regresses to spending days locked away in his room. She watches his alcoholism progress, his drug habits gain momentum, his rejection of all his old friends, and his outright refusal to seek professional help. It goes from a difficult situation to flagrant danger.

Her relationship with her boyfriend Finn is funny and provides the story with a bit of much needed lightness. This courtship is enjoyable enough to read about, but it’s not necessarily realistic. He’s sweet, smart, good-looking, and just the right amount of pushy. I didn’t know they made them like this in high school. Or maybe they just didn’t make them like this in my high school. What I’m trying to say is that I think Finn is a little too good to be a real teenage (human) boy.

My biggest and only real complaint is the ending. Without giving away too much, I will just say that I do not like all ends to be tied up so tightly. If everything is resolved, if everything becomes perfectly neat, it takes away from the heart wrenching experience of everything you read prior. But I’m not saying that I like cliffhangers either. There’s a happy medium after all.

Regardless, this is a very important book, as is everything Laurie Halse Anderson writes. She tackles sensitive issues with grace and poise, allowing you to read something that may make you uncomfortable, but is something necessary all the same. I personally have not read many books that deal with PTSD, but this one is quite eye opening. At times, it is simply frustrating; at other times, it is heartbreaking; yet at others, it is infuriating. However the emotion, you know a book has done a good job when it makes you feel right alongside its main character.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Review: Where She Went by Gayle Foreman (If I Stay #2)

Where She Went resumes the story of Adam and Mia that began in If I Stay. The story is set three years from the ending of the first book, this time told from Adam's perspective. From the looks of things, both he and Mia have turned out to be quite successful musicians, although both have received that recognition quite differently.

Mia has developed into a renowned cellist, setting off an international tour with a concert in Carnegie Hall. Adam has risen to the level of ridiculously famous rock star and is dating a well-known actress/producer that makes regular appearances in the tabloids. Unlike Mia, he has grown weary of the music he is making, the people in his band, and his complete lack of privacy. The recognition and fame both Adam and Mia have received is slightly fantastical for the short amount of time that has passed, but it could happen. It just goes to show that a lot can change in three years.

Like If I Stay, there is a dual time perspective. Though the storyline follows Adam's current life, much of his time is spent reminiscing over the past three years or even from the time before the accident. At times, it feels like attention is retracted from important things, such as Mia's time at Juilliard. Perhaps this is because I am a mediocre musician, but this school and the students that come out of it have always fascinated me. Not only does the story gloss over the three years following Mia's accident, it skips over what I imagine to be a course of very intense and rigorous study. However, it is interesting that both stories follow this format, this division between the present and the past. It strikes me that both books take place after their main event has already occurred. In If I Stay, the accident has already happened. In Where She Went, the revolving factor is Adam and Mia's breakup.

This book is incredibly well written. In fact, I think it is much more fluid than the first one. There are many similarities between the two, but there is a very clear distinction between Mia's voice and Adam's. Adam is quite eloquent about his feelings, both in his narrative and the lyrics he writes for the album Collateral Damage.

I did say in my review of the first book that I do not care for Adam very much. Honestly, despite the enjoyment of reading this, that opinion did not change. Rather than being sympathetic for him, as I know I should have been, I really just wanted to tell him to get over himself and to move on with his life. Really, he spends so much of his time pining over Mia that there is room for little else other than a rapid spiral of self-destruction.

I also dislike the notion of the "one and only.” It just contributes to the idea that it is impossible to get past breakups. The fact that fate brings Mia and Adam back together justifies the three years he has spend holding onto her, justifies his waiting as a rational thing to do. Splitting up with someone you love is always hard, but it is not undoable. Mia and Adam's breakup lacks closure, but sometimes you don't get closure. Sometimes things simply end and you have to move on with your life.

To be fair, Adam tells us that he and Mia never have an official breakup. One day she just stops talking to him. I was a little disappointed in Mia when I read this, as it makes her a much less sympathetic character. Sure, it explains why he is so hung up on it and why he is so desperate to know the “why” of things, but it does not rationalize the aching that goes on for years and years.

Enough of that. The "one and only" spiel is probably just a personal issue I have with this book, one that I need to work past.

 Once again, music plays a very crucial part in this story. Although Adam has come to resent the music along with the other aspects of his life, it is exciting to read about the rekindling of his passion. It is good to see the blame shift from music in general to the music he is currently making. There is a sort of hope unveiled as, towards the end, he realizes that his musical journey is not over; only this chapter is.

It's also great to see a different form of music in this book. It's no longer just Mia's cello playing and Adam's guitar. At the beginning of every chapter, there is an excerpt of one of Adam's songs from his album Collateral Damage. Perhaps even more so than the rest of the story, these lyrics convey the depths of his despair, longing, and betrayal.

To be honest, my first notion about this book was that it is unnecessary. I liked the ending of If I Stay and would have been just fine with things being left that way. However, as the pages progressed, I actually began to enjoy this book. Its resolution wraps up just a little too tidily for my taste, but, despite my earlier complaints, this book is a quick and enjoyable read.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Review: If I Stay by Gayle Forman (If I Stay #1)

If I Stay follows Mia's story, a girl reminiscing on her old life and watching over her wounded body in present time. In the opening chapter, her family has a terrible car crash that rips them torn apart. Both parents die immediately, leaving Mia and her much younger brother in critical health.

Though the story is centered around the time of the accident, half the time Mia is recalling events that happened in her past. Very little of her memories are in chronological order, as she remembers everything from her young childhood to situations that happened mere days ago. Many of her memories are centered on her boyfriend, Adam, who has been steadily drifting apart from her. Other memories pertain to her family, her family friends, her longtime best friend, and her passion of playing the cello.   

One of the things I like about this book is that Mia does not come out and tell the reader that she is devastated. In fact, I was initially a bit surprised by her lack of reaction. This absence of reaction could be attributed to shock, but she speaks very articulately and lucidly about both her past and her present. It is only as you continue reading that you begin to experience the overwhelming love she feels for her family and friends and the astounding despair she experiences at their loss. Mia tells the story in a detached voice. It is her stories themselves that make you see the incredible depths that she loves her family.

Another great thing about this book is its focus on music. Regardless of whether Mia is the midst of a memory or she is watching the horror of her present life, music saturates every page. From her rock-and-roll parents to her punk boyfriend to her personal lifelong obsession with classical composers, music is a crucial part of this story, incorporated both thoroughly and well.

But Mia is not portrayed as a prodigy. She is painted as someone who has worked very hard to get where she is. In her younger years, her parents complain about the noises her cello makes when she practices, but she practices for hours and hours regardless. She feels anxious and self-conscious when performing. And, despite her astounding ability, Mia is neither an arrogant nor conceited. She is instead a very quiet, shy person. She is mature, but not unrealistically so. This book very truly could have been told from the voice of a teenager.

The fact that this book has a sequel with the same characters gives away the harsh decision portrayed in the title: whether to hold onto her life or to go forward into whatever death holds for her. However, that does not take away from the journey or its struggles. It's astounding that she has any decision at all in it. From the medical scenes in this book, it is very evident that Mia is entirely control of her own fate. When she is feeling warm toward those who remain, her health improves. When she feels the despondency from all she has lost, her health suffers. Though this is most likely not realistic, it is nothing short of fascinating.

I have praised this book a good deal, although I think I like the subject matter more than I liked the book itself. Mia felt very real to me, but perhaps that sense of realness comes in part from mundane descriptions of her life before the accident. The whole story is not entertaining; in fact, parts of it are even boring. But that just adds meat to the skeleton of Mia's character and to many of the other characters that decorate her life.

One exception to this is Adam. Her parents, their friends, her brother, her best friend... they are all great. In fact, with the exception of Mia's cello prowess, those characters are perhaps more interesting and entertaining than Mia herself. But Mia's love interest falls a tad short in my mind. I'm not sure what it is about Adam that I don't connect with. I think it may have been the feeling that I was supposed to like him and be impressed by him that ignited the dislike.

Regardless, the reality of this book is undeniable and heartbreaking. The dual time periods of the past and the present mixed with the lack of chronology leave you with a sense of vertigo. At first, the mix gives you a little confusion about the specifics, but the overall big picture comes together wonderfully.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Review: We Were Liars by E. Lockhart

Disclaimer: I'm feeling a bit ambivalent about this one.

We Were Liars is a tale told by unreliable narrator Cadence Sinclair Eastman (emphasis on the Sinclair). Cadence has grown up spending every summer on her grandfather's private and personal island, equipped with boats, tennis courts, and personalized mansions for each of his three daughters. Cadence has two cousins the same age as her. In addition to these three, there is Gat, friend of Cadence's cousin Johnny and step-nephew to his mother. Their clique is called the "Liars," apparently because they have a tendency to get into mischief and stretch the truth. They refer to each summer as the summer of their age-summer fourteen, summer fifteen, etc.

The story begins at the start of summer seventeen, although a great deal of the narrative is spent in Cadence's past. There is the sense that the plot follows its present line of thought, but there are long passages where Cadence has a specific memory or thought and will elaborate in great detail. Her voice is fractured and detached, giving the story a both chilling factor and a sense of anticipation that something awful is going to happen.

To be honest, I was quite frightened by this book for the first half of it. It isn't so much what is said, but what is left unsaid. From the start, you know there is a great deal left beneath the surface. Whether of not Cadence is privy to this information is unknown. However, I loved this book the first half. I thought it was elegant and beautifully written, even poetic in a way.

Most people who read this book refuse to talk about the ending with someone who has not read it, but this rule sort of baffles me. Is the ending supposed to be a surprise? Not that it's not a GOOD ending, but is it really surprising? To me, this is another one of those cases where you see hints of the ending very early on and begin praying in earnest that you are wrong. You don't want to be right because you figured it out so early. And you so dearly want to be surprised.

There are just way too many hints for this to be a surprise. I mean, really. I won't go into the details in case someone hasn't read the book or does not agree with me, but the overwhelming predictability caused me to knock my numerical rating of this book from a 5 star to a 3. I thought it was solid gold for the first half.

But the predictability did not ruin the entire experience for me, as predictability usually does. Instead, I found myself rather taken by Cadence and her crew and, shockingly, her materialistic, rich family. I enjoyed reading this not so much for the story but for the voice in which it is told. The characters are likable, but despicable, and I'm sure they are meant to be that way. It's most likely that not many readers can really relate to that kind of wealth and privilege, but plenty can relate to the frustratingly thick ties of family, friendship so strong you would do anything to salvage them, and to the growing pains of finding your own identity outside of your family's.

As for the romance, it is astounding. It's very much a coming-of-age drama, not dissimilar to Romeo and Juliet's insurmountable struggle. It's unlikely that this kind of lifelong, young romance would ever happen in reality, but it is compelling. And it does feel real. Really, there's not a whole lot of time for you to actually think about it. It just is.


This book is heartbreaking and beautiful. It's also unique in the sense that you don't frequently see the good sides and weaknesses of such upper class people represented in fiction. Yes, I knew how the book would end quite early on, but I'm still glad I read it. The pages just fly by. Yes, I saw the ending coming a mile off, but it still hit me out of nowhere.

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Review: Rumble by Ellen Hopkins

Rumble by Ellen Hopkins relates the story of an eighteen-year-old boy named Matt reeling in the wake of his younger brother's suicide. Blatantly atheist, Matt blames the religious folk in his school for bullying his newly outed gay brother into killing himself. Much of the book takes place in Matt's mind, revealing his inner rants towards those he hates. And, quite frankly, it seems like he hates nearly everyone.

The spark of light in his life is his girlfriend Hayden, although it is fairly easy for the reader to dislike her from the very beginning. As she grows in her faith, she puts distance between herself and Matt, becoming the epitome of the person that he so dislikes. Matt tells us that the two of them have been together for quite a while, that she greatly aided him in his recovery and emotional healing, that things used to be quite different between them. Good times are hinted at, but never actually shown. I personally felt nothing but disdain and resentment for Hayden. There was absolutely no ambivalence at all.

Then there is Alexa, Hayden's ex best friend and an object of lust for Matt. Once again, it's quite clear to the reader that this is who Matt should really be pursuing. Although not a perfect person, she is quite perfect for him. A little too perfect, if you ask me. Her character is written to easily make us like and accept her, to make it especially easy for us to justify Matt cheating on Hayden.

His parents are so bad it's almost unbelievable. His mother is detached and selfish; his father is punishing and volatile. Neither outwardly exhibits any remorse for their son's suicide or for their living son's struggle. The father is more concerned about reconnecting with his college girlfriend and his mother is more immersed in opening a boutique with her sister.

All in all, Matt does not have good friends, nor does he have good family. It's incredibly understandable how he has grown to be so cynical, hateful, and just angry. Although I hated reading it, even his ongoing relationship with Hayden is understandable. Of course he doesn't want to let go of the one good thing in his life, or at least in his eyes is the one good thing.

As all of Ellen Hopkins's other books, this is very well-written. However, I struggle to like it as I did all of the other ones. It's not that I find it boring or dragging or any other thing like that. It's more that the book's description led me to believe it was going to be about his struggle to overcome his family and peers, his struggle to discover his own faith, and his struggle to surmount the tragedy that has befallen him.

Those struggles do happen, but the overcoming and the discovering and the surmounting do not. At least not until the very end. His moral questions and change of heart do not show up until the climax, which is roughly 30 pages from the end in a 560 page book. Intended to be a grey world, it is instead very black and white. There are Matt's versions of good and evil, and never once does he waver from these beliefs until a new tragedy forces him to.

When he finally does have his questions, it is the result of a horrible accident. There is no question in my mind that his faltering would not have come about had it not been for an accident. Furthermore, people tend to be grateful for life after such an event and they do change, but sometimes just for a short while.


By the time his questions and inner changes come about, they are so close to the end that they are unbelievable. They are especially not welcome changes as he has spent over 500 pages making us hate and resent the other people in his life and making us believe in the absoluteness of his views. The transition is much too sudden, rendering it fantastical. This element of falsehood is especially disappointing, as all of Ellen Hopkins's other books have left me breathless with the stark reality they portray.