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3.12 AVERAGE
3.12 AVERAGE
Powered through this very fast. I am going to let it simmer for a while, but I know for sure that I didn't like it anywhere near as well as I liked _Impossible_.
ETA:
I slept on it, and I'm afraid I like it even less this morning. There were several aspects of the plot that just didn't work for me. The Jewishness thread seemed to me awkwardly woven into the rest of the plot, sort of shoehorned in in a way that didn't fit. I didn't buy Phoebe's outrage about the story told by Mallory. I didn't like the constant gratuitous cruelty- though yeah, I get that the plot depended on it. I really didn't like the payoff, the culmination of what the cruelty was aimed at getting- it was a total "HUH?" moment, wherein I was torn between laughing and banging my head into the desk.
All that being said, I think Werlin is a really good writer, but this particular tale didn't do it for me. I'll still read her next book.
ETA:
I slept on it, and I'm afraid I like it even less this morning. There were several aspects of the plot that just didn't work for me. The Jewishness thread seemed to me awkwardly woven into the rest of the plot, sort of shoehorned in in a way that didn't fit. I didn't buy Phoebe's outrage about the story told by Mallory. I didn't like the constant gratuitous cruelty- though yeah, I get that the plot depended on it. I really didn't like the payoff, the culmination of what the cruelty was aimed at getting- it was a total "HUH?" moment, wherein I was torn between laughing and banging my head into the desk.
All that being said, I think Werlin is a really good writer, but this particular tale didn't do it for me. I'll still read her next book.
Phoebe Rothschild befriends the strange Mallory in middle school, and for the next four years, the girls are as close as sisters. When Mallory's strange and yet kind of alluring older brother Ryland shows up, Phoebe finds herself drawn to him, and the two enter into some sort of strange relationship. Ryland makes her question her life and her self-worth, and Mallory doesn't seem to be helping the situation. Both Ryland and Mallory have a secret, though, and it's pretty sinister: they are fae, and have come into Phoebe's life to tear her down in order to save their faerie land as part of a deal made by Phoebe's ancestor hundreds of years ago. Will Phoebe be the one to save the fae, or will she be strong enough to resist?
As a cautious fan of Werlin's other works, I approached this one with more reservations than normal. In the interest of full disclosure, fantasy is not my preferred genre, and I don't have a lot of experience reading it. Werlin's fantasy is accessible simply because it is not overcomplicated. In fact, one might make the argument that her fantastical world is so simple that it is a detraction from the story. In nearly four hundred pages, I never got an understanding for the magical world that Ryland and Mallory came from. I didn't understand their motivations, nor did I understand their blind devotion to the fairy queen. The book's revelation about why the fae are the way they are comes way too late, and by the time I realized what was happening I didn't care.
There's no doubt that Werlin is a strong writer, and while some reviewers liked the almost dream-like undertone of the novel, I found it wearying. In order to really enjoy a book, a reader must feel at least one connection to a character. There isn't a character in the book that I feel like I got a sense for. Even Phoebe, who is our heroine, seems flat. Her attraction to Ryland isn't explained until the end (again, too little too late), and her friendship with Mallory is something that we are supposed to take for granted, because there is little interaction between the girls that allows us to see why they are friends.
While I understood what Werlin was doing in building the strange relationship between Phoebe and Ryland, I felt that it was rushed and much of it occurred off the pages. Being told that she feels a connection is not the same as seeing the connection. However, the uneasiness that the reader is supposed to feel around Ryland is conveyed nicely. Every time he refers to Phoebe as "Phoebe-bird," my skin crawled.
At the end of the day, this book will find fans in some readers. Being a lover of fantasy as a genre probably helps, but it shouldn't be a requirement. For me, though, this book left me cold and I was glad to be done with it.
As a cautious fan of Werlin's other works, I approached this one with more reservations than normal. In the interest of full disclosure, fantasy is not my preferred genre, and I don't have a lot of experience reading it. Werlin's fantasy is accessible simply because it is not overcomplicated. In fact, one might make the argument that her fantastical world is so simple that it is a detraction from the story. In nearly four hundred pages, I never got an understanding for the magical world that Ryland and Mallory came from. I didn't understand their motivations, nor did I understand their blind devotion to the fairy queen. The book's revelation about why the fae are the way they are comes way too late, and by the time I realized what was happening I didn't care.
There's no doubt that Werlin is a strong writer, and while some reviewers liked the almost dream-like undertone of the novel, I found it wearying. In order to really enjoy a book, a reader must feel at least one connection to a character. There isn't a character in the book that I feel like I got a sense for. Even Phoebe, who is our heroine, seems flat. Her attraction to Ryland isn't explained until the end (again, too little too late), and her friendship with Mallory is something that we are supposed to take for granted, because there is little interaction between the girls that allows us to see why they are friends.
While I understood what Werlin was doing in building the strange relationship between Phoebe and Ryland, I felt that it was rushed and much of it occurred off the pages. Being told that she feels a connection is not the same as seeing the connection. However, the uneasiness that the reader is supposed to feel around Ryland is conveyed nicely. Every time he refers to Phoebe as "Phoebe-bird," my skin crawled.
At the end of the day, this book will find fans in some readers. Being a lover of fantasy as a genre probably helps, but it shouldn't be a requirement. For me, though, this book left me cold and I was glad to be done with it.
I remember feeling enthralled by Werlin's Impossible, and I'd hoped this book would give me the same feeling.
Nope. Not even close.
I found Extraordinary to be very poorly written. There was no tension, no suspense. We knew every detail from the beginning, thanks to the "conversations with the faerie queen" that were not only unnecessary, but frustratingly rendered. The dialogue was choppy, flat, and irritating. It's not a spoiler to say, "Oh, Mallory is manipulating Phoebe!" because we're told so, blatantly, on the first page. Any bit of information was wrung out in those sections. It was condescending. It made me feel stupid. It was like somebody took my hand and said, "Okay, now, this story is going to somewhat involve a faerie realm! You only know this world, the world of reality, so I'd better lead you through everything just in case you don't understand or get confused or have the slightest bit of trouble."
Werlin's depiction of seventh graders is laughable. For example, no seventh grader says, "Because, frankly?" Try "honestly" or "seriously." Phoebe's seventh-grade thoughts are incredibly self-aware. Her reasoning is that of an adult or at the very least a high schooler, not a child. However, Werlin's portrayal of adults in the novel is equally poor. Phoebe is supposed to have a huge revelation over her mother's love for her. Yet, she spends the entire novel calling her mother by her first name, Catherine, for no apparent reason. That is, when adults are even present in the story, which only happens when it's convenient for Phoebe.
Whoever wrote the summary clearly tried to give this book a Twilight-esque appeal, with a dangerous, forbidden, supernatural love. In actuality, Ryland's manipulation is boring, not thrilling. I mean, it's not supposed to be thrilling. It's supposed to be wrong and awful, but when we know he's manipulating her, that wrongness is flattened, made meaningless. We don't feel outrage or even pity--feelings that give us a righteous thrill, that make us and keep us invested. We just don't care. I didn't really care about Phoebe--I couldn't reconcile the inconsistencies in her character enough to make her thought process seem reasonable. But again, as is all too common these days, we can blame that on the *SUPERNATURAL.* All poor character development is forgiven because there was magic involved. Of course.
And in the end, when I learned Werlin took her inspiration from Maguire's Wicked and, more importantly, from the song "For Good"? I was astonished, and then angry--coming from those two sources of inspiration, this story could have been really good. But because Werlin had made it REALLY CLEAR from the get-go that Mallory wasn't being a genuine friend, all of that possibility was lost. It was as though Werlin thought she didn't actually have to build a relationship between Mallory and Phoebe. She didn't leave any room for true conflict or forgiveness or friendship. Saying (paraphrased), "Mallory was the sister Phoebe never had" doesn't make it their friendship automatically close or even real. It just makes it empty, something Phoebe wanted but ultimately never really earned. At least, not within the pages of this book.
There's a nice sentiment in saying, "Everyone has the capability to be extraordinary." It's true. But it's a pity we had to sort through a mess of a novel to get there.
Nope. Not even close.
I found Extraordinary to be very poorly written. There was no tension, no suspense. We knew every detail from the beginning, thanks to the "conversations with the faerie queen" that were not only unnecessary, but frustratingly rendered. The dialogue was choppy, flat, and irritating. It's not a spoiler to say, "Oh, Mallory is manipulating Phoebe!" because we're told so, blatantly, on the first page. Any bit of information was wrung out in those sections. It was condescending. It made me feel stupid. It was like somebody took my hand and said, "Okay, now, this story is going to somewhat involve a faerie realm! You only know this world, the world of reality, so I'd better lead you through everything just in case you don't understand or get confused or have the slightest bit of trouble."
Werlin's depiction of seventh graders is laughable. For example, no seventh grader says, "Because, frankly?" Try "honestly" or "seriously." Phoebe's seventh-grade thoughts are incredibly self-aware. Her reasoning is that of an adult or at the very least a high schooler, not a child. However, Werlin's portrayal of adults in the novel is equally poor. Phoebe is supposed to have a huge revelation over her mother's love for her. Yet, she spends the entire novel calling her mother by her first name, Catherine, for no apparent reason. That is, when adults are even present in the story, which only happens when it's convenient for Phoebe.
Whoever wrote the summary clearly tried to give this book a Twilight-esque appeal, with a dangerous, forbidden, supernatural love. In actuality, Ryland's manipulation is boring, not thrilling. I mean, it's not supposed to be thrilling. It's supposed to be wrong and awful, but when we know he's manipulating her, that wrongness is flattened, made meaningless. We don't feel outrage or even pity--feelings that give us a righteous thrill, that make us and keep us invested. We just don't care. I didn't really care about Phoebe--I couldn't reconcile the inconsistencies in her character enough to make her thought process seem reasonable. But again, as is all too common these days, we can blame that on the *SUPERNATURAL.* All poor character development is forgiven because there was magic involved. Of course.
And in the end, when I learned Werlin took her inspiration from Maguire's Wicked and, more importantly, from the song "For Good"? I was astonished, and then angry--coming from those two sources of inspiration, this story could have been really good. But because Werlin had made it REALLY CLEAR from the get-go that Mallory wasn't being a genuine friend, all of that possibility was lost. It was as though Werlin thought she didn't actually have to build a relationship between Mallory and Phoebe. She didn't leave any room for true conflict or forgiveness or friendship. Saying (paraphrased), "Mallory was the sister Phoebe never had" doesn't make it their friendship automatically close or even real. It just makes it empty, something Phoebe wanted but ultimately never really earned. At least, not within the pages of this book.
There's a nice sentiment in saying, "Everyone has the capability to be extraordinary." It's true. But it's a pity we had to sort through a mess of a novel to get there.
Yes, this is another faerie book. But instead of a human protagonist being plagues by faeries or sucked into their world, most of this book is story about two girls who are the best kind of best friends. They share everything, build each other up, and act like sisters from a fairytale rather than like siblings in real life. Phoebe is loaded and Mallory has almost nothing, but that never seems to come in the way of their friendship, even though Phoebe's mom is paying for Mallory's mom to have around the clock care. There is never that you-owe-me sentiment that can sometimes creep into those kinds of relationships. Everything is perfect. Except...
This story is broken up by numbered conversations with the Faerie Queen. It seems Phoebe is very important. She is needed desperately by an ailing Faerie Court and it is Mallory's job to prepare Phoebe for whatever it is that she must do. Though we see most of the story (everything but these Faerie Queen convos) from Phoebe's point of view, it is Mallory's conflicting loyalties that are the real meat of this story. She loves Phoebe in that intense way that teenage girls have, where your best friend is your whole world, but she knows that if she doesn't do what she's been sent into the human world to do, the Faerie Queen and her Court will fade away, along with Mallory and all of her people. Mallory struggles with this for years, putting off her choice between her family and her best friend. In the mean time, she hides her assignment and helps Phoebe come into her own, not as a Rothschild, but as Phoebe. But that's not what Mallory was sent to do. Seeing Mallory's struggle, the Faerie Queen sends in the one person who can break up Mallory and Phoebe's all encompassing girl world: a smokin' hot guy who just happens to be Mallory's older brother.
With the addition of Ryland, Phoebe has her own conflicting loyalties to contend with. She's drawn to him inexplicably, but she knows it would hurt Mallory SO MUCH to find out that she's in love with him. Let me take a moment to say that this never strayed into the paranormal romance trope of intense, surprising (only to the character), and irrational tru lurv at first sight. Ryland is an ass. He really is a horrible guy. But he's a faerie, and a pretty powerful one at that. He glamours Phoebe. So even though smart, funny, confident Phoebe knows that she shouldn't date a guy who treats her like a child, constantly tells her she could stand to lose a few pounds, and whose whims make him either enchanting or incredibly hurtful, she can't seem to stop seeking him out. When he's not there, she knows he's bad for her; when she sees him, no matter what comes out of his mouth and how much it wounds her, she's convinced that she can't survive without him. You can almost see the magic that Ryland is throwing at Phoebe drown out her rational self, a self that used to be supported by Mallory. Except that Mallory can't seem to forgive Phoebe for dating her brother. And no matter how cruel Ryland is to her, it is Mallory's abandonment that breaks Phoebe's heart.
In the end, this is a story about an amazing friendship that is so convincing and alive. Werlin's portrayal of both girls and their relationship is what makes this story great; the faeries are simply a fascinating and (amazingly) original plot device to show how far each girl is willing to go for the other. Phoebe and Mallory have the kind of friendship where you say I love you and mean it; the kind that you would sacrifice anything for. And in the end, one of them has to.
Book source: ARC provided by publisher through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program
This story is broken up by numbered conversations with the Faerie Queen. It seems Phoebe is very important. She is needed desperately by an ailing Faerie Court and it is Mallory's job to prepare Phoebe for whatever it is that she must do. Though we see most of the story (everything but these Faerie Queen convos) from Phoebe's point of view, it is Mallory's conflicting loyalties that are the real meat of this story. She loves Phoebe in that intense way that teenage girls have, where your best friend is your whole world, but she knows that if she doesn't do what she's been sent into the human world to do, the Faerie Queen and her Court will fade away, along with Mallory and all of her people. Mallory struggles with this for years, putting off her choice between her family and her best friend. In the mean time, she hides her assignment and helps Phoebe come into her own, not as a Rothschild, but as Phoebe. But that's not what Mallory was sent to do. Seeing Mallory's struggle, the Faerie Queen sends in the one person who can break up Mallory and Phoebe's all encompassing girl world: a smokin' hot guy who just happens to be Mallory's older brother.
With the addition of Ryland, Phoebe has her own conflicting loyalties to contend with. She's drawn to him inexplicably, but she knows it would hurt Mallory SO MUCH to find out that she's in love with him. Let me take a moment to say that this never strayed into the paranormal romance trope of intense, surprising (only to the character), and irrational tru lurv at first sight. Ryland is an ass. He really is a horrible guy. But he's a faerie, and a pretty powerful one at that. He glamours Phoebe. So even though smart, funny, confident Phoebe knows that she shouldn't date a guy who treats her like a child, constantly tells her she could stand to lose a few pounds, and whose whims make him either enchanting or incredibly hurtful, she can't seem to stop seeking him out. When he's not there, she knows he's bad for her; when she sees him, no matter what comes out of his mouth and how much it wounds her, she's convinced that she can't survive without him. You can almost see the magic that Ryland is throwing at Phoebe drown out her rational self, a self that used to be supported by Mallory. Except that Mallory can't seem to forgive Phoebe for dating her brother. And no matter how cruel Ryland is to her, it is Mallory's abandonment that breaks Phoebe's heart.
In the end, this is a story about an amazing friendship that is so convincing and alive. Werlin's portrayal of both girls and their relationship is what makes this story great; the faeries are simply a fascinating and (amazingly) original plot device to show how far each girl is willing to go for the other. Phoebe and Mallory have the kind of friendship where you say I love you and mean it; the kind that you would sacrifice anything for. And in the end, one of them has to.
Book source: ARC provided by publisher through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program