The Waiting Tree

by Lindsay Moynihan

ISBN 9781477816349

Disclaimer: I received a free review copy of this book at ALA Midwinter 2013. All quotes are based on an uncorrected text.

“So, you told your brothers you were on a date with me so that you could sneak off and see your boyfriend who doesn’t know that you also slept with me while he was locked away in a religious asylum. Good job, Simon.”

The Peters brothers, Paul, Luke, Simon and Jude grew up in a religious family in Waynesboro. The two youngest brothers, twins Simon and Jude, have always been a little different; Jude is mute, and Simon is gay. Simon never gets a chance to find out if his parents would have accepted him because they were killed in a car crash before he was outed. Then his boyfriend, Stephen, is shipped off to a pray-away-the-gay facility after his father catches them together. Simon has already dropped out of high school and become Jude’s primary caregiver, so losing Stephen is just one more blow in a life that went off the tracks when his parents died. The brothers make sacrifice after sacrifice to try to keep their family together, but no one sees the toll this is taking on Jude, or is prepared for the lengths to which Jude will go to protect his family.

In The Waiting Tree, Lindsay Moynihan has written a dark and affecting story about growing up gay and poor in the Christian south. Thanks to Stephen’s father, everyone knows about Simon, but no one, not even his best friend Tina, can really accept the truth. The novel is character driven, and much more about relationships than actions. None of these characters have it easy, so tensions run high. Nevertheless, the pacing lagged in places, plodding along before being pushed abruptly into action by conversations (which inevitably devolve into shouting matches) or events. There are long periods of tension, in which the reader must simply wait for something, or someone, to give. However, the plot was dark and real; Moynihan is not offering any pat solutions or easy answers, or much in the way of closure. The Waiting Tree is a somewhat bitter slice of life.

The Rithmatist

by Brandon Sanderson

Illustrated by Ben McSweeney

ISBN 978-0-7653-2032-2

Disclaimer: I received a free review copy of this book at ALA Midwinter 2013. All quotes are based on an uncorrected text.

“Caught up in the moment, Joel finished drawing the Line of Vigor in front of him, raising his hand with a flourish. With surprise, he realized that some thirty students had gathered to listen to him, and he could feel them holding breaths, expecting his drawing to come to life. It didn’t. Joel wasn’t a Rithmatist. His drawings were just ordinary chalk. Everyone knew that, Joel most of all...”

Popular fantasy author Brandon Sanderson makes his YA debut with The Rithmatist, a genre-bending fantasy/mystery set in an alternate universe America in the 20^th century. The United Isles of America are held together largely by the mutual need to contain the dangerous wild chalklings on the central isle of Nebrask. Thanks to the discovery of Rithmatics—a magical system based on geometry and artistic ability—the Rithmatists have been able to hold their foe at bay for centuries. But recently, students from Armedius Academy—one of the schools that trains these crucial defenders—have been going missing, leading to speculation that something has escaped from Nebrask.

Although Joel loves nothing more than Rithmatics, he missed his chance to become a Rithmatist, and instead attends the general school at Armedius, where his mother is a maid, and his father was once the school’s chalkmaker. However, Joel’s theoretical interest in Rithmatics proves to be a boon when he is assigned to be a research assistant for Professor Fitch, a brilliant but disgraced Rithmatist who is trying to solve the mystery of the missing students. Together with Fitch’s pupil Melody—a remedial Rithmatics student who would be glad to trade places with Joel—they must solve the case before more students disappear, threatening the country’s defences and delicate alliances.

A new series and a new universe means that Sanderson has a lot of world-building to do in The Rithmatist. After briefly launching us into the conflict in the opening chapter, Sanderson turns to a much needed explanation of the world’s complex magical system. Here, Joel’s passion for Rithmatics carries the reader through what otherwise might be a particularly high buy in. Rithmatists possess the ability to magically animate or empower chalk drawings, creating defensive circles and constructs, and two-dimensional creatures called chalklings that attack opponents. The defensive systems are complex, and each chapter includes drawings that illustrate the different strategies. Spreading this information throughout the book prevents the reader from becoming overloaded, but the beginning is undoubtedly slower-paced than the conclusion. In addition to the helpful diagrams, Ben McSweeney provides drawings of chalklings, and beautiful chapter headers that add atmosphere to the book.

Although The Rithmatist is set at a magical school, Sanderson manages to deftly dodge the Hogwarts stereotypes, and create his own unique setting in Armedius. The majority of students, like Joel, are not Rithmatists, although most come from wealthy families. In general, beware of comparing this book to Harry Potter, as your assumptions will lead you astray. From setting, to plot, to characters, Sanderson rarely makes the expected choice, making The Rithmatist an extremely successful mystery.

Although The Rithmatist ostensibly features a male-female duo, Melody is left out of a great deal of the action. Set in an alternative 20^th Century, Sanderson explicitly addresses the idea of changing gender roles within his culture. This dynamic often seems to be at play when Fitch and Joel exclude Melody from their investigation. Her outspokenness and girly unicorn chalklings don’t quite fit in to their ideas of a proper Rithmatist, and since both men are fascinated by Rithmatics, her indifference is off-putting.  Fortunately, the ending strongly hints that she will play a stronger role in future books in the series.

While Sanderson has written a good mystery, the stand-out here is the wonderful alternative history setting, and the unique magical system. Despite being a YA novel with a school setting and a teenage protagonist, fantasy readers of all ages who swear by good world-building will not want to miss The Rithmatist. (Those who think world-building is boring are advised to stay home).

The 5th Wave

by Rick Yancey

ISBN 9778-0-399-16241-1

Disclaimer: I received a free review copy of this book at ALA Midwinter 2013. All quotes are based on an uncorrected text.

“The Hum is gone. You remember the Hum. Unless you grew up on top of a mountain or lived in a cave your whole life, the Hum was always around you. That’s what life was. It was the sea we swam in. The constant sound of all the things we built to make life easy and a little less boring. The mechanical song. The electronic symphony. The Hum of all our things and all of us. Gone. This is the sound of the Earth before we conquered it. Sometimes in my tent, late at night, I think I can hear the stars scraping against the sky. That’s how quiet it is. After a while it’s almost more than I can stand.”

When a satellite image of an alien spacecraft was spotted off Mars, humans received confirmation they were not alone in the universe. For ten days humanity waited for the mother ship to arrive, and hoped that the visitors would be friendly. On the tenth day, the Others sent out an electromagnetic pulse that destroyed Earth’s transportation and communication systems. That was the first wave. Since then the human population has been decimated by three more waves of attack. But the fourth wave has perhaps been the worse; the aliens are wearing human faces and no one can be trusted. Survival has become a hopeless paradox; you must be alone to survive, but together to have any hope of fighting back. Since losing her parents and being separated from her brother, Cassie Sullivan’s policy has been that to stay alone is to stay alive. But when she is shot in the leg by one of the Others’ Silencers, she has no choice but to trust Evan Walker. Not only is he her only hope for survival, he may be the only person who can help her rescue her brother

The POV rotates between Cassie, Evan, her brother Sam, and a teenage military recruit known to his squad as Zombie. Cassie is snarky and a little bit funny, while Zombie’s narrative voice hardens as he goes through basic training and becomes soldier. Sam’s narration doesn’t quite manage to capture a five year old, but his experience provides information that is important to the narrative. Although the chapters aren’t labelled as to who is narrating, it’s usually quite easy to figure out (except when Yancey deliberately obscures their identity, which is the case in at least two chapters). Yancey also has an excellent knack for imagery and analogies, although some of these ideas and turns of phrase are used by multiple characters independently, which comes across as incongruous. Chess, cockroaches and especially the idea of bodies as battlefields appear as cross-character motifs.

Although largely dystopian sci-fi, there is a distinct element of mystery to The 5^th Wave that will keep you turning the pages. With communications systems knocked out, and humans unable to trust one another, no one has enough information—there is a lot of confusion, speculation, and guess work. Elements that at first seem like plot holes or continuity errors often turn out to be part of this confusion. Pay attention to the elements that don’t add up, because this is a book that will keep you on your toes the whole way through.

As I was reading, I was struck by a number of similarities between the premise of this book and Stephenie Meyer’s The Host. The aliens are inhabiting human bodies, and experiencing human feelings and emotions. Against their better judgment, some of the aliens have become intrigued by humanity. Cassie, like Melanie, has lost her parents, but is dedicated to her younger brother. However, that is largely where the similarities end. Where The Host was a romance with a window dressing of science fiction, The 5^th Wave is science fiction with the barest hint of romance. In many ways, The 5^th Wave is the book The Host could have been if Meyer had gotten serious about the sci-fi elements.

Although there isn’t a great deal of romance in The 5^th Wave, the romance that is present fell terribly short of my expectations. I tweeted this a couple days ago, but let’s say it once more for good measure: authors, having your heroine say NO and your love interest ignore her IS NEVER ROMANTIC. Rape makes me want to rage quit your book (and knocks at least one star of whatever I might have rated it otherwise). The 5^th Wave is a gritty, thrilling and largely enjoyable page-turner, but framing the romance this way makes it difficult to engage with what will undoubtedly be a key element of the plot as the series goes on.

___

Looking for a little more romance and a little less sci-fi? I recommend The Rules by Stacey Kade.

Salt Sugar Fat

by Michael Moss

ISBN 978-1-4000-6980-4

“Take more than a little salt, or sugar, or fat out of processed food, these experiments showed, and there is nothing left. Or, even worse, what is left are the inexorable consequences of food processing, repulsive tastes that are bitter, metallic and astringent. The industry has boxed itself in.”

Journalist Michael Moss has a long history of reporting on food issues, including E. coli contamination in peanut butter, and coining the phrase “pink slime” to describe the ammonia-treated beef being served in American school cafeterias in 2009, for which he won a Pulitzer. In Salt Sugar Fat, Moss turns his investigative reporting skills onto the key ingredients processed food companies use to make their food products edible, not to mention desirable and even craveable, with carefully calculated “bliss points.” Moss demonstrates how the three main tenets of the food industry—taste, convenience and cost—have left companies critically dependent upon these ingredients, and consumers at their mercy.

Moss draws on vast amounts of research that have gone into understanding flavour and taste. Even when these studies are funded, in whole or part, by industry giants, they gain credibility by the fact that these companies have every reason to want to understand exactly how they can make their products as desirable as possible. While the industry may tend to reveal the information selectively, trying to spin it in their favour, in Moss’s hands these reports are revealing and often damning, despite his even-handed reporting style. Moss relates the research without bogging down the reader, and frequently ties it back to concrete examples of products that fit the bill. He also interviews a variety of industry insiders about the impact of their products, though those who remain loyal to the industry were, understandably, reluctant to speak with him.

Although the book is divided into three sections, one for each key ingredient, Moss never loses sight of the relationship between them. He clearly demonstrates that consumers need to keep their eyes on all three balls at once. If fat is the villain of the hour, food companies may lower the fat content to appease the public, and make up for the loss in flavour by increasing the salt or sugar load. Marketing plays a key role in this subterfuge, which is also explored, if not as deeply as it could be. Companies can create an aura of health around a product by emphasizing whole grains or real fruit, despite jacked up levels of salt, sugar, or fat.

However, just removing salt, sugar, or fat doesn’t prove to be the answer. Though he clearly weighs in on the side of healthier eating, Moss offers a (limited) voice to both sides of the debate, visiting Kellogg laboratories to taste what the products would be like if the company would just remove the salt. Moss describes the results as “a culinary horror show” with dire implications for companies trying to improve the nutritional profile of their products. The emphasis for the industry has been on self-regulation, but this poses an incredible challenge that goes beyond figuring out how to remove salt, sugar, and fat from products. A company that reduces these flavour enhancers voluntarily is at the mercy of competitors who refuse to do the same, or who don’t reduce as much. As a result, they are under constant pressure from Wall Street to stay the course.

One of the most telling revelations is the role cheese and meat—heavily subsidized by the American government—play in sabotaging the American diet. Cheese and meat account for nearly thirty percent of the saturated fat consumed by the average American. By contrast, cookies, cakes and pastries account for a paltry six percent. Yet the surplus of dairy products created by the subsidy ensures that cheese finds its way into ever more products as an ingredient, so that the average American now consumes over thirty pounds of cheese per year. What’s worse, consumers don’t even seem to be able to detect the extra fat. The government comes off looking very bad indeed, with initiatives to improve eating habits and educate consumers receiving a fraction of the funding of the beef and dairy subsidies. Although the food companies bear the brunt of the scrutiny, Moss certainly doesn’t let the government off the hook.

Of course, not all the experience gleaned by the processed food industry is bad. The knowledge food executives have gained about marketing and appeal can also be applied to healthier foods. Jeff Dunn, formerly of Coca-Cola, moved onto selling baby carrots as a snack food, with the “Snack on That” campaign, which, at first description, sounds like a marketing strategy for potato chips or pretzels. Leveraging this knowledge is potentially powerful for shifting our eating habits back towards healthier choices. Also in the realm of good news, Moss discusses research demonstrating that our tastes for some flavours are adjustable, and can be recalibrated; reducing your sodium intake for twelve weeks can reset your taste buds so that you only need a fifth of the salt you could tolerate before.

Though it runs to four hundred pages, Salt Sugar Fat is an investigation, not a solution. Nevertheless it provides valuable insight into the practices of processed food companies that consumers should be more aware of.

May Saturday Swap

The Saturday Swap is a monthly meme hosted by Ruby’s Reads to help bloggers exchange books. You can find my limited wishlists on my Goodreads Want to Read Shelf and my To Be Read Pinterest board. Feel free to make me an offer of a title not listed there; I am mainly interested in speculative fiction, young adult, literary fiction and historical fiction. Here are the ARCs I have available to trade:

• The Different Girl by Gordon Dahlquist
• Heart Like Mine by Amy Hatvany 
• Sinners and the Sea by Rebecca Kanner
• Notes from a Coma by Mike McCormack 
• Amity and Sorrow by Peggy Riley 
• Sketchy (The Bea Catcher Chronicles #1) by Olivia Samms
• You Know What You Have to Do by Bonnie Shimko
• Poison by Bridget Zinn

A Constellation of Vital Phenomena

by Anthony Marra

ISBN 978-0-7704-3640-7

Disclaimer: I received a free review copy of this book at ALA Midwinter 2013. All quotes are based on an uncorrected text.

“What parts had she discarded for the sake of her sanity? What had she cut from herself? Had he stared into her pupils he would have emerged, bewildered and blinking, on the far side of the earth. Was he awed by her? Absolutely. Did he respect her? Unequivocally. Want to be anything like her? No, never, not at all.”

After the fall of the Soviet Union, Sonja Andreyevna Rabina escaped from war-torn Chechnya on a scholarship to study medicine in London. But she is pulled back home by the disappearance of her beautiful but troubled sister, Natasha, just in time to be trapped by the outbreak of the first Chechen war of independence. Against all odds, Sonja thrives, taking charge of a decrepit hospital and becoming a surgeon renowned by rebels and Feds alike. Miraculously, Natasha is returned to her, a shattered wreck rescued from a prostitution ring in Italy. They slowly begin to rebuild their lives, only to have them smashed again by a second war, and Natasha’s second disappearance. With her sister gone, and the hospital in more dire straits than ever, Sonja sacrifices herself bit by bit to continue saving lives. Meanwhile, from the woods behind her home, eight-year-old Havaa watches as her father, Dokka, is “disappeared” by Russian soldiers. Desperate to save Havaa from the same fate, Ahkmed, the incompetent village doctor who dreams of being an artist, delivers her to the hospital, and into Sonja’s reluctant care. Dokka’s abduction is the culmination of a series of events which will reveal the strange relationships and connections between disparate people struggling for survival in the midst of a brutal war in which everyone loses.

A Constellation of Vital Phenomena centres around the five days in 2004 after Dokka’s abduction, while also spanning the previous decade, and occasionally stretching up to a hundred years into the future. We gain brief glimpses of the past and future outside the timeline of the story proper as Marra skilfully uses third person narration to deliver stunning detail and depth we wouldn’t get from a first person narrative. The omniscient narrator sees connections and events of which the characters remain, for better or worse, totally unaware. Although there is a great deal of flashing backward and forward in time, the timeline at the head of each chapter helps keep events in order, and enforces the currency of the events; far from being set in the distant past, this story takes place between 1996 and 2004, well within the lifetime of most readers.

The story is an exercise in contrasts, filled with exquisite, lyrical prose counterpointed by brutal, senseless violence. In the depths of a government facility known as the Landfill, a prisoner is tortured for information, but asked no questions by his interrogators. Indeed, only the power and the beauty of Marra’s writing can carry the reader through the ceaseless stream of horrible, tragic events, allowing us at once to experience them, and contemplate them at philosophic remove, such as Ahkmed’s description of helping build Dokka’s house, which the Feds burnt to the ground:

Carrying the lumber the forty meters from the forest had left his knuckles blistered, his underarms sopping, but now a few hours of flames had lifted what had taken him months to design, weeks to carry, days to build, all but the nails and rivets, all but the hinges and bolts, all into the sky. And too were carried the small treasures that had made Dokka’s house his own.

The grim picture is painted with beautiful words for a reason; the characters find the silver linings where they can, searching for life and hope and forgiveness in the ruins. Though many of the characters despair of saving themselves, they hope that by saving Havaa, they will have done something worthwhile.

Although the conflict and the setting are obscure—indeed largely unknown to Westerners before three weeks ago—Marra has created a cast of characters that will be relatable for everyone, and he weaves just enough history into his narrative to orient us, cleverly using Khassan’s unpublishable 3000 page history of Chechnya to educate and inform. Readers needn’t be familiar with the Chechen struggle for independence before reading this novel, though the events may leave readers interested in knowing more than can possibly be explained in a novel. For those readers, Marra provides a brief bibliography at the end of the book.

Dark and depressing on one hand, and buoyed by hope on the other, A Constellation of Vital Phenomena delivers the highs and lows life under difficult circumstances. Full of beautiful, striking details, this moving and resonant novel captures the heartache of war, and the depths of human resourcefulness in a narrative that will remain with you long after the final page.

___

Already read and enjoyed A Constellation of Vital Phenomena? I recommend The Gods of Heavenly Punishment by Jennifer Cody Epstein.

The Fall of Rome and the End of Civilization

by Bryan Ward-Perkins

ISBN 978-0-19-280728-1

“Deep within the European psyche lies an anxiety that, if ancient Rome could fall, so too can the proudest of modern civilizations.”

There are many opinions and much scholarship about the fall of the Roman Empire, but one of the more popular arguments is that, far from being a violent step back, the “fall” of Rome was in fact a peaceful transition that incorporated the Germanic peoples into the Roman way of life. In The Fall of Roman and the End of Civilization, Bryan Ward-Perkins marshals a variety of evidence to show that the Germanic invasions caused commerce and the general standard of living to fall to well below pre-Roman conditions, and subsequently took centuries to recover. Although the Germanic conquerors did make use of much of the Roman infrastructure, there were still significant consequences and changes for the Romans now living under their rule.

Although basically opposed to the theory that the Germanic peoples were peacefully assimilated, Ward-Perkins concurs that there is ample evidence to suggest that many of them wanted to benefit from the fruits of Roman civilization rather than conquer it. For example, they often served in the Roman army as mercenaries, and were willing to accept settlements of land and money in exchange for peace. These were no ideologues trying to overthrow the Roman Empire on moral principles. However, the suggestion of a peaceful transformation elides the obvious evidence of suffering and difficulty caused by the arrival of the Germanic tribes. By examining the available archaeological evidence, particularly pottery and coinage, Ward-Perkins is able to make a very convincing argument that the Roman economy and standard of living declined drastically in the aftermath of the Germanic invasions. Although there is limited physical evidence from which to draw conclusions about events that happened more than a millennia ago, Ward-Perkins makes very good use of what is available, and is careful to qualify speculation as such.

Ward-Perkins is also careful to qualify his use of the somewhat controversial term “civilization,” using it to denote only the complexity and reach of the Roman economy, as opposed to a cultural judgement. This hardly seems inappropriate when he is able to demonstrate that a peasant in northern Italy was purchasing high quality tableware imported from Naples, and using amphorae that originated in North Africa. And indeed, as Ward-Perkins notes, there are significant drawbacks to these kinds of economic complexity which may in fact have contributed to the drastic fall in the standard of living after the Germanic invasions; people living in complex specialized economies often lose the skills necessary for survival when a crisis interrupts or destroys that system.

Although Ward-Perkins has written a largely economic history of the fall of the empire, he nevertheless has a number of interesting cultural observations to offer. For example, he points out that scholarship on the Germanic invasions has closely mirrored contemporary attitudes towards Germany. In the aftermath of World War II, when views of Germany were rather dim, scholars tended to focus on the more violent aspects of the invasion. As Germany reshaped its image and became a critical player in the European Union, scholars shifted towards more positive views of accommodation and integration.

At 239 pages, Ward-Perkins is offering a very brief look at a complex and much debated period of history. As the author points out, in 1984 a scholar was able to put together a list of no less than 210 potential causes for the fall of Rome. Nevertheless, this is an exceptionally intelligent short introduction to the factors leading to the fall of Rome. Ward-Perkins reviews many of the eminent scholars on their topic, such as Peter Heather, Edward Gibbon, and Peter Brown, whether to draw evidence for his own arguments, or to show errors in their logic. As a result, in addition to understanding Ward-Perkins’s position, the reader comes away with a decent (but by no means comprehensive) basic overview of Roman scholarship. If you want to know more about the fall of the Roman Empire, but lament of ever tackling a lengthier treatise, this is the book for you.

___

Already read and enjoyed The Fall of Rome and the End of Civilization? I recommend The Black Count by Tom Reiss

Sketchy (The Bea Catcher Chronicles #1)

Olivia Samms

ISBN 9781477816509

Disclaimer: I received a free review copy of this book at ALA Midwinter 2013. All quotes are based on an uncorrected text.

“I can draw the truth out of people…literally.”

Seventeen year old Bea Washington has just been released from a tough three month stint in drug and alcohol rehab. As if coping with the real world again wasn’t enough, Bea is also struggling with an unusual talent that manifested when she got sober. Always an artist, Bea now finds that she can draw the truth out of people, looking into their minds and drawing what they see, as if her hand has a mind of its own. She hoped that the power was merely a bizarre symptom of withdrawal, but it quickly becomes clear that the power isn’t going away. Recently beaten and left for dead, Bea’s classmate Willa Pressman is the latest victim of a local serial killer who is bound to strike again. Willa claims she can’t remember anything about her attacker, but when Bea draws the truth, she realizes the situation is even more complicated. With her parents keeping her on a short leash, Bea must try to solve the mystery of the serial killer, with or without Willa’s cooperation.

Bea has a spirited narrative voice and a dark sense of humour about the problems in her life that mostly made her pleasant company. Although she seems judgmental and sarcastic when we encounter her at her first AA meeting, it quickly becomes clear that she is hiding her own vulnerabilities and judging her own failures. Once the mystery begins, the novel is harrowing and fast paced. The only drawback to the quick pacing is that characters seem to have weirdly candid conversations with one another on relatively short acquaintance, usually in service of moving the plot forward. Unlike many mystery protagonists, who seem to have a natural talent for sleuthing, Bea is a blunderingly bad detective, struggling to use her power for a beneficial purpose. Overall, she was a wonderfully flawed and intriguing protagonist.

In additional to the regular textual narration, Sketchy also includes drawings, handwriting, and text messages. Although appropriate to the premise of the book, they added very little to the novel practically speaking. The drawings also occasionally mark a scene transition, which led to a few instances of confusion on my part about what was going on. What really did work, however, was the handwritten chapter titles, which demarcate the number of months, days, and hours that Bea has been sober, a constant reminder that she is struggling not to use despite the stress of coping with her new ability.

In a short novel dealing with a barrage of serious issues, some topics inevitably receive short shrift. However, there were a few instances where things went downright wrong. I was initially happy to see a young adult novel with a mixed race protagonist and a gay secondary character, but Samms’ treatment of the characters quickly demolished any enjoyment. She repeatedly refers to Bea’s “nappy” African American hair, and casually uses the term “tranny” not once, but twice. In the first instance, Bea describes her gay friend as a “tranny” for wanting to check out her closet, which almost caused me to set down the novel then and there. Also disturbing was Samms’ choice of a love interest for Bea. In a novel about sexual violence and exploitation, setting up your seventeen year old protagonist (who is a vulnerable recovering addict) with an adult (and a police officer no less) is more than a little discomfiting. Although the romance was mostly only hinted at, likely as set up for future books in the series, it nevertheless seemed inappropriate. Although Samms clearly dismisses any form of rape apology based on fashion choices or intoxication, this potential relationship cast a shadow of statutory rape over the story. While the novel has an interesting premise and a quirky main character, the above issues left me with serious reservations.