BookieMonster

Mar 102011
 

Married With Zombies

Married With Zombies by Jesse Petersen, Penguin, RRP $28, ISBN 9781849832977, Available now.

“The couple who slays together, stays together.” This should be an amusing book, right? Jibs and jabs and jibes. Maybe I’ve been ruined by Zombieland being hilarious and really I should have known that “trend books” (yeah, that’s right, I said it) rarely live up to their potential.

Married With Zombies is the story of Sarah and David – who confront a dystopian future nightmare involving zombies, on their way to a routine visit to their marriage counsellor.

See, that seems funny. And there are a few giggles, mostly premised by Sarah and David being so utterly wrapped up in themselves they fail to notice the zombie warnings, then using their knowledge of zombies from the movies to become expert zombie killers.

But it’s all just so meh. The tone shifts wildly from mad action giggles to, quite frankly, mad depressing. Maybe that’s what living in a zombie world is like but I want my light and frothy zombie stories to be just that. Light and frothy with brains. Otherwise you veer into Justin Cronin/Cormac McCarthy territory and you sir, Zombie Book, are no Cormac McCarthy.

Bah, and zombie humbug.

Feb 262011
 

Wulf

Wulf by Hamish Clayton, Penguin NZ, RRP $30, ISBN 9780143206491, Available now.

Maybe I’m biased but New Zealand is a pretty special country. We’re rather far from other places, out there alone, and for thousands of years our flora and fauna had very little contact with the rest of the world.

Travelling further in the world and talking to other New Zealanders, you realise how deeply involved we are with our landscape, how totally linked we are with our country, even when we live in the middle of an urban jungle (which, let’s face it, we don’t really have).

What this is all leading up to is an introduction to one of the best New Zealand books I’ve read in a long time – Wulf by Hamish Clayton. Wulf is essentially an historical novel but it’s so much more than that. It’s history and mythology and fiction.

Set in 19th century New Zealand, Wulf weaves elements of the story of Te Rauparaha, his rise to dominance and his reputation that led to the nickname “Napoleon of the South Pacific”, with the mythology of the Old English poem of Wulf and Eadwacer, a poem which still resists any easy interpretation.

More than just the story, Wulf is a fun and fantastic exploration of language, a riotous amalgamation of story and truth, with faint whiffs of T. Coraghessan Boyle and even Thomas Pynchon (I said faint – don’t get too cocky Clayton :) ). And, above all, in its words and its story Wulf captures the essence of our country, our history and how we have become who we are now.

Te Rauparaha

Te Rauparaha

Yes, I’m raving. Wulf was just so fantastic to read, it is fun and clever and smart and it reminded me of that feeling you get when you’re far away from home and you see a photo or a picture of that home and you just instantly know. You instantly feel it. New Zealand.

Wulf is lyrical invention but it’s not the easiest of reads. You will be carried along by the language but I suspect there will be plenty of readers who will be tempted by the PR blurb from Lloyd Jones that refers to “derring-do”, only to find themselves at the end of a book and wondering where the derring-do was (sorry Rachel, no sea battles). It’s not in the narrative. It’s the book itself.

Hamish Clayton has done something quite spectacular on debut. Capturing a country is no mean feat, but capturing how people feel about a country, an island? Capturing exactly who we are? Amazing.

I never saw in all my wide-wanderings a country so fresh, so harsh, so beauteous-green.

Charles Blomfield, Castle Rock

Charles Blomfield, Castle Rock, Coromandel, sunrise, from the Mercury Bay track

Feb 242011
 

The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating by Elisabeth Tova Bailey, Text Publishing, RRP $30, 9781921758126, Available now.

A book about snails and sickness would not automatically leap to mind as a book one would rave about, but thank goodness for The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating which proves all you doubters wrong. I didn’t doubt, not for a second.

At age 34 Tova Bailey was struck down with a sudden, unexplained and serious illness – so serious that she literally couldn’t sit up without putting serious strain on her body.

By chance a friend brought her a snail and, with the creation of an environment for the snail to live in, she becomes fascinated with the minutiae of the little snail’s life.

It’s a credit to the talent of Tova Bailey that she can make long term debilitating illness and minute examination of the daily life of a snail so entertaining, yet at the same time retain the inherent fear that happens when your body suddenly stops working on you. Illness isn’t “angel in the house”. It’s terrifying and boring and depressing – and The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating captures all of that, whilst also being hopeful and uplifting.

All this is combined with fascinating facts, stories and history of snails – it’s popular natural history meets memoir. The life of Tova Bailey’s gastropod becomes all-entrancing and her descriptions of its routines and quirks are delightful.

I challenge anyone to not want a snail terrarium after reading this. And I challenge you to read this. The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating will provide you with a small, quiet and infinitely beautiful moment to yourself.

So good it might just start a new snail trend. Unicorns are so yesterday, gastropods are the NOW. :)

Feb 152011
 

The Lover's DictionaryThe Lover’s Dictionary by David Levithan, Text Publishing, RRP $30, ISBN 9781921656910, Available now.

The Lover’s Dictionary is being touted as a bit of a Valentine’s tie-in (alright, Valentine’s was yesterday, so sue me) and I think that’s quite spot on really – much like Valentine’s it’s charming, sweet but ultimately a little insubstantial.

That’s not to say I wouldn’t recommend it however – it’s David Levithan, author of possibly the BEST book of last year (hereby pronounceth BookieMonster) Will Grayson, Will Grayson – so despite feeling a bit light on substance it’s still a joy to read. Levithan is a clever wee clogs and his writing is wonderful.

The Lover’s Dictionary takes the form of a dictionary, taking us from A – Z, with chosen words then blooming into small stories from the narrative of a relationship, and it’s this form which gives it its lightness. With each entry being no longer than 2 pages and some as short 2 lines the reader feels like they are simply dipping into this story.

On second thoughts though, perhaps I’m taking too negative a view? Levithan’s skill is that even while feeling like you’re wafting through these people’s lives, you still get the impression that there’s a big story going on here, a heartlifting and heartbreaking drama of love. It’s as if he just wants you to see the surface, just get the glimpse – other people’s lives are heartbreaking but often we just don’t know because we aren’t allowed in.

Oh, sneaky bugger.

Blow it, I’m just going to say this – buy it and read it. If only for gorgeous passages like this, the kind of writing that makes you so happy that you can’t help crying:

posterity, n.

I try not to think of us growing old together, mostly because I try not to think about growing old at all. Both things – the years passing, the years together – are too enormous to contemplate. But one morning, I gave in. You were asleep and I imagined you older and older. Your hair graying, your skin folded and creased, your breath catching. And I found myself thinking: If this continues, if this goes on, then when I die, your memories of me will be my greatest accomplishment. Your memories will be my most lasting impression.

BookieMonster. Your source for definitive answers.

Feb 032011
 

Across the UniverseAcross the Universe by Beth Revis, Penguin, RRP $26, ISBN 9780141333663, Available Now.

Across the Universe has been a bit of a shooting star across the sci-fi/teen/YA fiction universe, but not without its controversy. I don’t think I’ll touch on that here – it’s pretty much been covered from both sides.

This is a “pick it up and don’t put it down until you’ve finished” book.  Across the Universe is, have no doubt, a fantastic read. It starts off incredibly strong with a first chapter that not only sets up a major part of the plot but also manages to be gripping, thrilling and slightly icky. Always a good combination.

It doesn’t quite manage to sustain this pace throughout the story but Revis takes a damn good crack at it. There is a freshness and feeling of originality about this book (apart from very vague shades of Wall-E) – humans are blasting off into space from earth in an effort to find liveable planets to colonise. They think they’ve found one – so Amy and her family (and hundreds of others) are frozen in time to make the 200 year journey to the new planet.

Except Amy gets woken up early. About 50 years too early. And soon other frozen people are being woken up only they aren’t surviving the reanimation process.

Meantime, while they’ve been travelling, a whole society has been created in the ship that is a weird simulcrum of human culture on earth. This society is led by Eldest – and his next in line is Elder – a boy Amy’s age who, whilst being romantically attracted to Amy, is also grappling with his impending responsibilities.

How could this not be a fantastic story? People are frozen! Cows are being farmed! Inside a space ship! Only, apparently they don’t look like actual cows, which of course we only find out once Amy has seen them through earth eyes.

Through Elder’s voice and story it becomes clear that this is a story about ambivalences, underneath its sci-fi/thriller exterior. About how we only know history through the history we’ve been taught – and that may not be as objective as we naturally think it is. About how doing the “right thing” isn’t always obvious. The personal isn’t the political. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Etc.

Some parts of the story do have a slightly odd tone. A strong sexual aspect to the new society is introduced about two-thirds of the way in that to be honest felt quite misplaced to me. The new society is very strictly generational – and the young generation (slightly older than Amy and Elder) are about to enter the Season. If you have even a passing familiarity with animal husbandry it probably won’t take you long to figure out what that means. The Season causes them to become uninhibitedly sexual and to engage in (presumably, though it’s not exactly graphically described) sexual acts in public.

In and of itself this plot line is actually quite important and it has serious implications for Elder. But it’s Amy’s strong negative reaction to this that just plain felt weird, and to then eventually make her *spoiler alert*

Show Spoiler »

the subject of an attempted sexual assault/attack by some of the ships inhabitants felt a lot more like a setup piece than an obvious part of the plotline. It seemed far more like the author’s attempt to TELL US SOMETHING in capital letters.

To be honest this aspect of the story is just odd. There’s a strangely strong puritanical ethic going on here. I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to takeaway from this plot point as a reader (and moreover if I was the target teenage reader) – sex is gross and dangerous?

Fortunately though, this isn’t a book about Amy (though the publicity would have us think differently), this is a book about Elder. And it’s a far better book for that.

What I liked most about Across the Universe is that while its plot was basically quite simple (the whodunnit aspect and the *gasp* revelation aspect started to get fairly obvious well before the big reveals), the underpinning ideas weren’t.

This is the first of a trilogy (apparently) and I will be reading the other two. With such an intriguing start, how could I not?