reviews

respost: a life of literary allusions

Welcome to Repost Week: the picture book edition. While my life currently resembles a scene from Alexander, Who’s Not (Do You Hear Me? I Mean It!) Going To Move, I’m treating you to some oldies but goodies. I wrote this when oldest child was about four–he’s seven now–and sharing books with my children has only gotten better!

One of the exciting things about being a parent is introducing books to my little ones. They go from interacting with the physical books–chewing them, pulling them off shelves, stuffing them in various holes, crevices and nooks, turning pages and pointing to pictures–to interacting with the story itself. This is the fun stage my oldest son is at; he enacts the stories (though the enthusiastic chopping down of Truffula trees with an axe made out of Tinkertoys is not, perhaps the take-home message of The Lorax), talks about them and brings them into his real life.

The other day, while we were out on a family walk, the Firstborn started to make grimacing faces. “Look, Mommy! I smile at the good and frown at the bad*!” I cracked up and after that we were off and running, with the literary allusions flying fast and thick between us, calling the full moon a bowl of milk** and me teasing him that I would turn into a pumpkin at eight. (He insisted I would be a hen instead, then got upset when I made clucking noises, and turned me back into Mommy.)

I love how kids get into stories. I love that, after reading One Morning in Maine, the Firstborn took his sister to dig clams in our yard (good luck, kids!). I love that he’s memorized whole books; the other day he sidled up to me and told me that he’d be my best friend and give me five bucks if I let him drive the bus***. Oh, and he bet my mom would let him. I love how kids just dive into the material; playacting, drawing, building, asking questions, reinterpreting, weaving these stories into the fabric of their lives.

And I love how shared reading experiences bring us together as a family. That we can use these books as springboards for games, shared activities, crafts, silly inside jokes, serious conversations.

Here’s to many more years of sharing stories.

* Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans

** Kitten’s First Full Moon by Kevin Henkes

*** Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus by Mo Willems

What are some of your favorite quotable books (picture books or otherwise)? Which quotes have become part of your family’s culture?

review: The Way of Kings

This week I’m doing something a little different. I’ve invited my husband, David, to write a joint review of Brandon Sanderson’s The Way of Kings with me, so you get a bit of a different perspective.

Rabia: I hadn’t intended to read The Way of Kings–at least not yet. For one thing, it’s the first book of a projected 10 (ten!)-book series. Book 2 has not been written and won’t be out until 2013 at the earliest. I’m a late adopter when it comes to series, because a) I am impatient and b) I forget things. Since I don’t want to end up like GRRM’s teeth-gnashing fans, I stay away from series that aren’t complete, or close to complete. Secondly, The Way of Kings is HUGE. It has a prelude, a prologue, several interludes with characters you see only once, and over a thousand pages. Forget the whole series–just reading book one is a big commitment.

So why’d I read it? Because my husband did, loved it, and told me I should read it (which is not something he does lightly). And it’s also written by Brandon Sanderson, author of the wonderful Mistborn trilogy. I know this guy can write a good story. I also know he doesn’t want to leave his readers hanging, so I’m willing to follow along for the decade or so(!) he needs to write this series.

David: I have to start with a confession. I’ve actually never read this book (cue gasps of shock and confusion). On the other hand, I’ve listened to it four or five times now. (Had you going for a moment, didn’t I?) My lovely wife got me the audiobook for Christmas, and I do a lot of driving, which gives me plenty of time to listen. Of course, The Way of Kings is a large book; it takes up 36 CD’s–almost 80% the size of the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy (46, for those playing at home). They used two narrators, and generally used them well. The only problem is that the narrators apparently didn’t consult with each other on how to pronounce High Prince Sadeus’s name; since he’s a fairly important character, this was rather jarring.

One of Sanderson’s greatest strengths as a story teller is the amount of effort he puts into the world building, and this really shows in The Way of Kings. A minor example: most of the world is battered periodically by high storms, and the plants and animals have evolved to deal with this–except for the plants in Shinovar, which is protected geographically. So, for instance, the plants in most of the world retract when someone draws near, so they’re constantly walking on rock; the grass in Shinovar, however, stays in place, and the Shin people feel that it is profane to walk on rock–which puts them at odds with pretty much everyone else. Small details like that abound, bringing the world to life. Of course, since this is the first book in a series, not all of the details are explained–but they’re there (unlike some series where details appear only in later books, making it clear when the author thought of them!).

Rabia: I’m glad David brought up the worldbuilding, because it’s the reason why–for such a big book–not much happens in The Way of Kings. The world is a character in and of itself, and Sanderson reveals it layer by layer. Because it is so alien, he needs to take a lot of time to show it to us. He does it skilfully, weaving it into the action, and by the end I felt both immersed in Roshar and knowing that there are great swathes of it still unrevealed.

Most of the story is told through the eyes of three POV characters: Shallan who embarks on a dangerous deception in order to restore her family fortune; Kaladin, a surgeon-turned-spearman-turned-slave who fights to save the men under his command; and Dalinar, a high-caste warrior and brother to the late king, struggling to unify his people. Of the three, I found Kaladin’s journey to be the most compelling. Sanderson pays a lot of attention to the internal as well as external struggles of his protagonists, which affects the pacing as well.

David: I have to disagree with Rabia’s statement that “not much happens”. The three main characters don’t do much travelling–Shallan spends almost the entire book in the city of Kharbranth, while Kaladin and Dalinar’s stories are mostly on the Shattered Plains–but physical location is pretty much the only thing stable for all three of them. This is a fairly strong contrast to the Lord of the Rings, where there’s a lot of physical movement, but the characters change slowly, if at all (think about it: does Aragorn undergo much of an arc? He’s a great warrior and leader throughout the trilogy; all that really changes is that he gets more people following him). I won’t go into details–for those, you really ought to read it yourself!–but none of the three main characters end the book with the same worldview as they start with.

I would like to note one other detail: as much as I like the story, the actual book is a work of art in its own right. The maps, the artwork throughout, every detail has clearly been carefully crafted to make reading this a truly unique experience. I hope (and assume) that they’ll continue this throughout the series, and I look forward to owning them all. These books are what traditional publishers need to produce if they want to give readers reason to buy the original, rather than (or in addition to) the e-book or audiobook formats.

Rabia: Since I always have to have the last word (sound familiar, David? ;)), I want to point out that the ending of The Way of Kings absolutely delivers–and then some. There are several like-a-punch-in-the-guts revelations, questions answered, and more questions raised. Sanderson manages the difficult task of wrapping up this book satisfactorily while setting the stage–and raising the stakes–for the sequel.

If you like epic fantasy, you should definitely try this book. In hardback, since having the map is really useful for keeping track of everything!

avatar the last airbender: azula and toph

Now that Admiral Zhao is out of the way, we’re introduced to a new villain: Zuko’s younger sister, Azula.

Azula first shows up in Iroh’s recounting of Zuko’s duel with his father in Book One. Azula’s the girl sitting behind Iroh during the flashback. While Iroh averts his gaze from the fire-blast that scars Zuko, Azula watches with avid glee. She is not nice. The next time we hear of her, it’s from Zuko–she’s the prodigy, the gifted firebender, the one to whom everything came easy. Yes, the creators make it easy to dislike her already.

Azula’s scary. At this point, she’s powerful enough that she could take down any of Team Avatar in a one-on-one fight, maybe including Aang himself. She’s also smart and proactive–she certainly kept Aang and co. on the run in “The Chase”. She understands people–and manipulates them to further her own ends. She plays on Zuko’s longing for acceptance and approval from his father like a master violinist.

In the beginning episodes of Book Two, Zuko’s hit rock bottom He’s conflicted and struggling; he’s gone from banished prince to fugitive criminal, and he and Iroh have to hide as simple peasants in the Earth Kingdom. Meanwhile, Azula is strong, confident and on top of her game. She has many admirable traits, but, unfortunately, they’re combined with ruthless ambition, a conviction of her own superiority, and a lack of compassion and empathy.

Why did she end up like this? I’m going to do some armchair psychology here, based off of the flashbacks in the episode “Zuko Alone”. Turns out the young Azula was a manipulative, eavesdropping, taunting brat. My guess is that Azula’s firebending gift threw her into her father’s orbit really early. Ozai’s certainly proud of Azula–and how her skills reflect on him–but he’s much more concerned with his own ambitions, and isn’t around actively parenting either of his children. Zuko, meanwhile, is in his mother’s sphere of influence; he probably learned to have a heart from Ursa. Azula’s left to her own devices pretty much and seems to have very little adult oversight. She’s picked up Ozai’s values–she prizes strength, firebending ability, ambition.

Azula's a win-at-all-costs type of gal

She’s so self-assured and unfazed, it was rather satisfying to see the look on her face when Iroh tosses her into the water early on in Book Two. Which might be why she went for him with her lightning strike in the Wild West town episode.

In Book 2, Team Avatar is joined by a new member: Aang’s earthbending teacher, Toph.

Toph ROCKS. (I know, I know, *terrible* pun, but Sokka’s humor must be rubbing off on me.)

After King Bumi (I always think it should be spelled Boomi–because he’s an earthbender, right? And rocks earthbended to hurl through the air go BOOM when they land, right? get it? BOOM, BOOMI? Oh never mind), gets put into an iron coffin by the Fire Nation, he tells Aang to find an earthbending teacher who waits and listens. In “The Blind Bandit”, Aang finds just who he’s looking for.

Toph was born blind, and is treated as helpless and fragile by her parents. Unbeknownst to them, she’s a great earthbender who loves to fight, and is the reigning champion of EarthRumble (the earthbending equivalent of a WWF tournament). However, her parents cannot see her as anything other than delicate, so she runs away from home to join Aang–something which leads to compications later on.

Now, Katara’s got the whole maternal, peacemaking, cooperative thing down pat. Toph’s more of an independent, don’t-sweat-the-small-stuff type. She’s not used to being a member of a team–she never even had friends before–and that leads to some friction early on. Toph and Katara are very different, especially when it comes to their handling of Aang’s training (love that the Avatar has two girls teaching him :)). Toph’s got a drill-sergeant tough-love teaching style.

Toph’s a great earthbender and has such a strong personality that her blindness isn’t much more of a problem than say, Sokka’s lack of bending. In fact, it gives her an edge in earthbending since she’s had to learn to “see” with her feet. She’s steady and reliable, and after that one time she left in a huff, we know we can count on her in a fight. She also has her vulnerabilities, which make her more relatable.

We’re almost to the walls of Ba Sing Se in our watch-through. Sokka’s found out about the Day of Black Sun and Appa’s been kidnapped on Toph’s watch (okay, she was a little busy trying to keep a gigantic library from sinking into the desert, taking her friends with it). Oh, the rest of this season’s going to be on-the-edge-of-your-seat fun! My son, though, is very distressed that Appa’s gone missing.

what I’m watching: avatar the last airbender

Aang and company have finally made it to the North Pole. The Northern Water Tribe live in a city made of ice, with canals instead of streets–brr! Can I just say that the waterbenders got a raw deal on where they ended up in the world? I mean they could’ve waterbended (waterbent?) just as well on some tropical Hawaii-like archipelago…

Anyway, they might be safe from the Fire Nation for all of one episode, but personal crises are in store for Sokka and Katara. Sokka falls hard for the moon-haired Princess Yue–and she likes him back, except for one teeny thing. She’s engaged to another guy in a politically advantageous match (they never say how it’s a good match, but the fiance is a complete doofus, so it can’t be for his brains). Yue is sweet and shy and dutiful and gorgeous, but there’s a very ethereal, out-of-reach quality about her that forebodes… well, you’ll see.

Aang finds himself a waterbending teacher, but snooty Master Pakku refuses to teach Katara as well. In the Northern Water Tribe, you see, women waterbenders are dismissed to the healing huts. In a really short-sighted move, Pakku declares he’ll no longer train Aang after he discovers Aang has been passing his knowledge along to Katara. (I mean, really, this is the Avatar! What if the Avatar were a woman, huh? You’d refuse to teach Kyoshi, eh? I’d like to see that happening).

Anyhow, Katara is totally non-apologetic about flouting the Northern Tribe’s customs, and challenges Pakku to a duel. He won’t deign to fight her, but she forces the issue. She puts up a good fight, but is defeated. However, Pakku agrees to teach her because ~~she’s determined, driven and talented~~ she’s the granddaughter of his lost love, who ran away from an arranged marriage with him because she didn’t love him.

O-kay. I suspect the writers made that up then and there. Because there is nothing before this episode to indicate that Gran-Gran was ever in the North Pole. Remember the Fire Navy ship in the first episode? Remember Katara saying how it had been there since her grandmother was a little girl?

And really, if Gran-Gran had come from the North Pole, it would have been common knowledge in the tribe. Why would she have bothered to hide her origins? And when she knew Katara was off to learn waterbending at the North Pole, wouldn’t Gran-Gran have warned her that they have dumb customs up there? Why send Katara off with no clue about what to expect?

And, really, who runs away from an arranged marriage with the betrothal necklace carved by the jilted fiance and then hands it down to her daughter and granddaughter as an heirloom? “Oh, yes, this necklace has a lot of sentimental value. I ran away rather than marry the man who made it for me.”

Riiiiight.

Okay, rant over. Back on track now.

Meanwhile, Admiral Zhao has collected a massive armada and comes calling on the Norther Water Tribe. Aang’s been goofing off in his waterbending classes, but Katara’s finally impressed Sourface Pakku with her drive and talent. (I really enjoy seeing Katara grow in her powers this series, btw. The things she does at the end–well, they’re a far cry from the girl who could just make a wobbly water bubble and then soak her brother with it).

Fire Nation and Water Tribe engage in some skirmishes. Yue’s dad puts together a special mission led by his boneheaded future-son-in-law, that fails miserably. Luckily, Sokka gets kicked off the mission, and assigned to protect Yue instead. One wonders if Yue’s father deliberately wanted to clear the way for Sokka–but no, that’s just my nasty Machiavellian mind talking.

Aang realizes he can’t take out the Fire Navy all by himself (just you wait, my child, just you wait) and needs help from the Ocean and Moon Spirits—hopefully a powerful Spirit attack, but wisdom would be good, too. So off he goes into the Spirit World. While he’s in there, Zuko shows up to snatch his body and he and Katara fight it out. Katara freezes him to wall in the moonlit night, but in two seconds the sun’s back up and he jumps out, knocks her out, and runs off with Aang. Our Heroes go off in search for Aang, find him and Zuko out in the blizzard and bring him back. Aang comes out of the Spirit World–turns out the Ocean and Moon Spirits aren’t there after all! Oh noes!

But Admiral Zhao knows where they are–in the sacred pond where Aang crossed over in the first place, disguised as fish (er, the Spirits are disguised as fish. Aang is not. Yet.). He takes out the Moon Spirit, which causes the moon to vanish from the night sky and the waterbenders to lose their powers. That angers the Ocean Spirit (hey, it’s stuck being a fish all by itself now? I’d be mad too!), and Aang combines with it to become this giant glowing fish thing which goes on a rampage and sinks all of the Fire Navy ships. By slashing at them with its giant glowy fin-arms. Powerful, but not as cool as bending.

Aang merges with the Ocean Spirit to become a glowing fish thing and unleashes an awesome spirit attack! Wisdom is overrated.

Angry Ocean Spirit also takes out Admiral Zhao personally, which is just as well. His preening and posturing didn’t make him a very scary villain, so his disappearance paves the way for a much more formidable opponent–for next season.

Of course, destroying the Fire Navy fleet doesn’t bring the moon back, but Yue has some of the Spirit in her from when the Moon Spirit saved her as a baby. So she dissolves into mist and becomes the new Moon Spirit (but not a fish) and balance is restored to the world, if not to Sokka’s heart.

Overall, I found the finale of book 1 satisfying, save for some minor plotting and timing issues. We’re into book 2 now, and the kids are enjoying Toph and (*sigh*) Azula.