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theanitaalvarez's reviews
1766 reviews
The Sorrows of an American by Siri Hustvedt
5.0
My granny lent me this book, because I was raiding her shelves and was intrigued about the title. So, before reading it I did a little search on Google and found out that Siri Hustvedt is married to Paul Auster. I guess that some people say that she’s published only because she is Paul Auster’s wife, as it has happened with other writers before.
This is not the case for Hustvedt. I believe she got published on her own merits.
I enjoyed Sorrows of an American a lot! It’s the kind of book that hooks you and makes you keep reading for hours.
The story is narrated by Erik Davidsen, a psiquatrist who has recently lost his father. When looking into his stuff, he and his sister Inga, find a mysterious note written by a certain Lisa, which hints at some terrible in their parents life.
But that’s only the first secret the novel is about. Besides the mysterious life of his father, Erik deals with the messed-up relations between his neighbor, an attractive woman with a little girl, and her psycho ex-boyfriend; Inga’s discovering her husband’s secret life; and his patient’s in general.
The plot is a beautiful and delicate weave of life, secrets, lies and truths, that reveals moments in the life of the different characters. All of them were quite weird, to say the truth. Besides Erik’s patients, we have Erik’s niece, Sonia, who clearly has issues and writes little snippets of poetry, a pair of women who create elaborated and detailed dolls with horrible stories behind them (and treat them almost as national secrets), the psycho ex-boyfriend who takes pictures in the streets and breaks and enters Erik’s house with no reason at all, Max’s (Inga’s deceased husband) actress lover… and many others. The story develops around these character’s craziness and the decisions they take, however insane they might be.
I like being able to take a look at other’s lives. I feel a little as a spy, but there’s something great about this kind of wriritng. It is almost as if the characters are there and we can see and hear them. It takes a great writer to create such an atmosphere, but Hustvedt manages it. Erik’s voice is compelling, ironic and overall interesting. A story told in first person must have a good narrator.
The ending is kind of anti-climatic. Mr. Davidsen’s secret is not as terrible and dark as his kids had envisioned, Inga resolves her problems with Max’s lover (I’ll admit it laughed a bit in that part, it’s just hilarious) and life goes on. We have gotten to share a little of the characters’ lives and we just have to leave them at some point.
Hustvedt’s writing is elegant and entertaining; it kept me going despite the multiple plot lines (I’ll admit I get distracted when I get a book with too many plot lines, especially when they are so closely related). And I had a great time reading, so I guess that it is the best recommendation I can give about this book.
This is not the case for Hustvedt. I believe she got published on her own merits.
I enjoyed Sorrows of an American a lot! It’s the kind of book that hooks you and makes you keep reading for hours.
The story is narrated by Erik Davidsen, a psiquatrist who has recently lost his father. When looking into his stuff, he and his sister Inga, find a mysterious note written by a certain Lisa, which hints at some terrible in their parents life.
But that’s only the first secret the novel is about. Besides the mysterious life of his father, Erik deals with the messed-up relations between his neighbor, an attractive woman with a little girl, and her psycho ex-boyfriend; Inga’s discovering her husband’s secret life; and his patient’s in general.
The plot is a beautiful and delicate weave of life, secrets, lies and truths, that reveals moments in the life of the different characters. All of them were quite weird, to say the truth. Besides Erik’s patients, we have Erik’s niece, Sonia, who clearly has issues and writes little snippets of poetry, a pair of women who create elaborated and detailed dolls with horrible stories behind them (and treat them almost as national secrets), the psycho ex-boyfriend who takes pictures in the streets and breaks and enters Erik’s house with no reason at all, Max’s (Inga’s deceased husband) actress lover… and many others. The story develops around these character’s craziness and the decisions they take, however insane they might be.
I like being able to take a look at other’s lives. I feel a little as a spy, but there’s something great about this kind of wriritng. It is almost as if the characters are there and we can see and hear them. It takes a great writer to create such an atmosphere, but Hustvedt manages it. Erik’s voice is compelling, ironic and overall interesting. A story told in first person must have a good narrator.
The ending is kind of anti-climatic. Mr. Davidsen’s secret is not as terrible and dark as his kids had envisioned, Inga resolves her problems with Max’s lover (I’ll admit it laughed a bit in that part, it’s just hilarious) and life goes on. We have gotten to share a little of the characters’ lives and we just have to leave them at some point.
Hustvedt’s writing is elegant and entertaining; it kept me going despite the multiple plot lines (I’ll admit I get distracted when I get a book with too many plot lines, especially when they are so closely related). And I had a great time reading, so I guess that it is the best recommendation I can give about this book.
The Suitcase Kid by Jacqueline Wilson
4.0
This was my first experience reading Jacqueline Wilson’s work. My short research on her (meaning I looked her up in Wikipedia), revealed that she is something like a big thing in English-speaking countries. I’ll see if I can find her books here in Spanish or something, because I really liked The Suitcase Kid .
The protagonist of this story is Andy. Her parents have just gotten a divorce, and it doesn’t seem to be an amicable one, either. Each of them has gotten a new partner (and it is heavily implied that her father was cheating on her mother with Carrie, his new partner) and Andy has suddenly lots of step-siblings that she has to deal with. Whenever they are together, they begin fighting. Usually about Andy herself, but she seems to be an excuse to bicker about everything. So, the story begins when they both try to force Andy to choose with whom she’d prefer to live.
That’s in the first pages. And I’ll say that I was very annoyed by her parents. Okay, I get that they are getting a divorce. There’s no shame on that, of course. The thing that should shame they is the fact that they are completely ignoring Andy, except for when they are trying to “buy” her love. I mean, they are perfectly nice to her when they’re alone. But they still cannot help mentioning how much better they are than the other. Seriously, people: stop fighting and trying to be better than the other AND TAKE CARE OF YOUR KID.
For most of the book, Andy is feeling pretty much miserable. Her parents fight at every chance they got and she feels as if it was her fault. And she is trying to move on from the fact that she wants them to be together and live as a family again. She knows it to be impossible, but her parents are not making her moving on any easier. The sad thing is that nobody seemed to really care much about her and her feelings. Everyone kept saying things along the lines of “suck it up”.
Instead of talking about this stuff with her, they just avoid the topic and keep on acting as ever. Which felt pretty unfair for poor Andy. All those changes are indeed too much for any kid to take on, and nobody seemed to realize it. Everyone was more focused on their own problems.
Still, the book ended up pretty sweetly. The ending is not closed, but it’s clear that Andy has began to have a more positive outlook on life. If things cannot be changed (because she has come to terms with her parents never getting back together), the best thing that you can do is to make the best of it. If you have to deal with annoying step-siblings, try to make things better. In the end, Andy also realizes that she has the power to change things. She tries to be nicer to Katie, her mother’s boyfriend’s daughter, and she gets results.
Even if this is a kids’ book, I think that a lot of adults could benefit from it. It’s so easy to overlook children’s feelings and their complexity. This book is a good reminder that children can be hurt and see things in their own way. And they, of course, need their time to process the changes in their lives at their own pace.
The protagonist of this story is Andy. Her parents have just gotten a divorce, and it doesn’t seem to be an amicable one, either. Each of them has gotten a new partner (and it is heavily implied that her father was cheating on her mother with Carrie, his new partner) and Andy has suddenly lots of step-siblings that she has to deal with. Whenever they are together, they begin fighting. Usually about Andy herself, but she seems to be an excuse to bicker about everything. So, the story begins when they both try to force Andy to choose with whom she’d prefer to live.
That’s in the first pages. And I’ll say that I was very annoyed by her parents. Okay, I get that they are getting a divorce. There’s no shame on that, of course. The thing that should shame they is the fact that they are completely ignoring Andy, except for when they are trying to “buy” her love. I mean, they are perfectly nice to her when they’re alone. But they still cannot help mentioning how much better they are than the other. Seriously, people: stop fighting and trying to be better than the other AND TAKE CARE OF YOUR KID.
For most of the book, Andy is feeling pretty much miserable. Her parents fight at every chance they got and she feels as if it was her fault. And she is trying to move on from the fact that she wants them to be together and live as a family again. She knows it to be impossible, but her parents are not making her moving on any easier. The sad thing is that nobody seemed to really care much about her and her feelings. Everyone kept saying things along the lines of “suck it up”.
Instead of talking about this stuff with her, they just avoid the topic and keep on acting as ever. Which felt pretty unfair for poor Andy. All those changes are indeed too much for any kid to take on, and nobody seemed to realize it. Everyone was more focused on their own problems.
Still, the book ended up pretty sweetly. The ending is not closed, but it’s clear that Andy has began to have a more positive outlook on life. If things cannot be changed (because she has come to terms with her parents never getting back together), the best thing that you can do is to make the best of it. If you have to deal with annoying step-siblings, try to make things better. In the end, Andy also realizes that she has the power to change things. She tries to be nicer to Katie, her mother’s boyfriend’s daughter, and she gets results.
Even if this is a kids’ book, I think that a lot of adults could benefit from it. It’s so easy to overlook children’s feelings and their complexity. This book is a good reminder that children can be hurt and see things in their own way. And they, of course, need their time to process the changes in their lives at their own pace.
Villette by Charlotte Brontë
5.0
It’s not a secret that I adore XIXth century Literature written by ladies. Jane Austen, the Brontë sisters, Elizabeth Gaskell and George Eliot. I simply adore them. So I got into this book knowing that I was going to love it.
I wasn’t wrong. At all. I adored it!
At first, I couldn’t help but compare it to my beloved Jane Eyre. They have similarities, of course. Both protagonists, Jane and Lucy Snowe, are orphans who are completely alone in the world. They both teach to earn their living, and both fall in love with a brooding gentleman. But, even with all those similarities, Lucy seemed very different to dear old Jane.
Lucy was more playful than Jane, I guess. She kept playing games with the reader and hiding information. For example, in the first part of the book, there is a young man called Graham John Bretton, the son of Lucy’s godmother. Then, when she moves to the French school, there is a Doctor John. And yes, they are the same person! And it’s not like she didn’t know that, she only preferred not to tell. You naughty girl, Miss Snowe!
Jane was more serious, more committed to the truth. And somewhat more contained, despite some paragraphs in which she let her passion sweep through.
I’m too weird if I say I actually liked Ginevra? Not in a way “I’d like to meet someone like her” (because that would be a vile lie), but in more in the sense of “what a funny character”. Her relation to Lucy was so hilarious, especially when hearing it from Lucy’s words. She said that she didn’t like Ginevra much, but at the same time she was kind of waiting for her to appear and talk about her vain stuff. She also reminded me of some friends. I could picture myself reading (instead of getting ready to whatever party we were going) and they asking me about their clothes and makeup and all that didn’t interest me much.
One of the things that made me laugh as I read the book was Lucy’s attitude towards the French people and culture. She clearly didn’t like them much, I guess. And it was funny to see her being all moralistic (because, you know, French people could be forgiven by their priests, so they were more relaxed in that field), and commenting how lax were everyone’s morals. My favorite part there was when she was watching the Cleopatra painting and all her comments were about how scantily clad the figure was! Brilliant! (Especially if you know your Art History and can picture paintings of that period).
And the characters! Oh, the characters! In true Brontë fashion, Charlotte managed to describe the whole world of characters in Villette just perfectly. Lucy, of course, it’s brilliantly portrayed. Her efforts at containing her feelings, her fears, her anxiety… basically she was awkward the whole novel and, as a fellow awkward person, I adored her. Jane wasn’t so awkward and clumsy, I think. And it’s easy to relate to Lucy’s feelings about her physical aspect. She said so many times she was plain and weird, poor thing.
Madame Beck was so… perfect. I mean, at first she seemed like a perfectly nice person, and she was kind of trying to help poor Lucy out. Until she fell for her cousin, and jeopardized her inheritance or something. Then, Madame lost her shit. And if you get to see the early parts, it was totally foreshadowed that she wasn’t a nice person. It was there and we couldn’t see it (thanks to a masterfully well written first person —and therefore, limited— narrator).
And Polly, oh my. At first she was somewhat pretty and I was conflicted about her. Because her story with Graham was sweet and that, I was inclined to like her. And I totally could see that she was going to be a total brat when she grew up. So, when she showed up (and actually was pretty much a spoilt brat), I was surprised that she was actually an endearing character. In her own spoilt way, she was very sweet and caring. I loved the way in which she conducted her affair with Graham (I TOTALLY SAW THAT COMING), and how she could make any man around her do anything she wanted them to do. Respect for that, sister.
One thing that was here and completely missing in Jane Eyre is the tension between the love interests (let’s face it: St John didn’t stand a chance over Mr. Rochester. None at all). Lucy was actually conflicted about them in a way that simply Jane couldn't be.
Doctor John/Graham had me confused. Mainly because I sort of shipped him with Polly at the beginning (yes, I know that she was six at that point, but I could see them growing up and all that. CUTE). And then I started shipping him with Lucy because she deserved something cute. But again, I almost forgot what the Brontë sisters were all about: BROODING. Graham was many cool things, I’ll admit, but brooding, NOT. So, when Lucy’s feelings for M. Emmanuel began to show, that ship sailed itself.
By the way, what a man was that Monsieur. Most of the time he was criticizing poor Lucy, but at the same time he was so proud of her. One of my favorite parts was precisely when he was almost showing her up to his snobby friends, who didn’t believe his students were any good. And how he kept constantly helping her improve was just perfect. Yeah, that’s my dream man. One who teaches me stuff (and whom I can teach, as well).
And he got Romantic Hero points for his love story with Marie Justine. Come on, it was a pretty sweet piece of story. Though I’d question his so-called-friends. Seriously? Let the poor fellow move on! I know that it’s so cool and Romantic to be constantly mourning a lost love and shit, but… you just can go like that forever. It’s just not healthy. That they tried to divide Lucy and M. Emanuel I wanted to throw my kindle away.
My favorite part was totally when he gave Lucy a school before leaving. It was a pretty good gift. With it, he was not only telling her how much he trusted her, but also that he valued her independence and how high he regarded her intelligence. Man, that was one smooth gift. Of course I fell for him as much as Lucy had! He was basically telling her that he felt she was as able and capable of doing anything on her own, without his help. He was a feminist!
I’ll admit that the ending kind of shocked me. I wanted a sort of bittersweet ending, such as the one in my beloved Jane Eyre. They get to be together, but he is maimed in some way. And they live happily ever after despite everything. When I got to the ending of Villette I was like:WHAT THE H… HAS HAPPENED HERE? HE’S DEAD?
Not fair, Charlotte. I trusted you and you broke my heart! (I guess I know now where John Green learnt from).
It was somewhat ambiguous, butLucy said that the years in which she expected him were the happiest in her life, and that she was going to leave the reader picture a better ending (OMG, Charlote Brontë also influenced Lemony Snicket).
By the way, for a moment I thought that Miss Brontë had anticipated Henry James’ “The Jolly Corner” and the nun was a projection of her inner conflicts. But no, it was a guy disguised as a nun to visit Ginevra. It was a weird explanation, though. Pretty weird.
I’ll always love Jane Eyre, because of reasons. But Villette has won a special place in my heart. Where all great books go!
I wasn’t wrong. At all. I adored it!
At first, I couldn’t help but compare it to my beloved Jane Eyre. They have similarities, of course. Both protagonists, Jane and Lucy Snowe, are orphans who are completely alone in the world. They both teach to earn their living, and both fall in love with a brooding gentleman. But, even with all those similarities, Lucy seemed very different to dear old Jane.
Lucy was more playful than Jane, I guess. She kept playing games with the reader and hiding information. For example, in the first part of the book, there is a young man called Graham John Bretton, the son of Lucy’s godmother. Then, when she moves to the French school, there is a Doctor John. And yes, they are the same person! And it’s not like she didn’t know that, she only preferred not to tell. You naughty girl, Miss Snowe!
Jane was more serious, more committed to the truth. And somewhat more contained, despite some paragraphs in which she let her passion sweep through.
I’m too weird if I say I actually liked Ginevra? Not in a way “I’d like to meet someone like her” (because that would be a vile lie), but in more in the sense of “what a funny character”. Her relation to Lucy was so hilarious, especially when hearing it from Lucy’s words. She said that she didn’t like Ginevra much, but at the same time she was kind of waiting for her to appear and talk about her vain stuff. She also reminded me of some friends. I could picture myself reading (instead of getting ready to whatever party we were going) and they asking me about their clothes and makeup and all that didn’t interest me much.
One of the things that made me laugh as I read the book was Lucy’s attitude towards the French people and culture. She clearly didn’t like them much, I guess. And it was funny to see her being all moralistic (because, you know, French people could be forgiven by their priests, so they were more relaxed in that field), and commenting how lax were everyone’s morals. My favorite part there was when she was watching the Cleopatra painting and all her comments were about how scantily clad the figure was! Brilliant! (Especially if you know your Art History and can picture paintings of that period).
And the characters! Oh, the characters! In true Brontë fashion, Charlotte managed to describe the whole world of characters in Villette just perfectly. Lucy, of course, it’s brilliantly portrayed. Her efforts at containing her feelings, her fears, her anxiety… basically she was awkward the whole novel and, as a fellow awkward person, I adored her. Jane wasn’t so awkward and clumsy, I think. And it’s easy to relate to Lucy’s feelings about her physical aspect. She said so many times she was plain and weird, poor thing.
Madame Beck was so… perfect. I mean, at first she seemed like a perfectly nice person, and she was kind of trying to help poor Lucy out. Until she fell for her cousin, and jeopardized her inheritance or something. Then, Madame lost her shit. And if you get to see the early parts, it was totally foreshadowed that she wasn’t a nice person. It was there and we couldn’t see it (thanks to a masterfully well written first person —and therefore, limited— narrator).
And Polly, oh my. At first she was somewhat pretty and I was conflicted about her. Because her story with Graham was sweet and that, I was inclined to like her. And I totally could see that she was going to be a total brat when she grew up. So, when she showed up (and actually was pretty much a spoilt brat), I was surprised that she was actually an endearing character. In her own spoilt way, she was very sweet and caring. I loved the way in which she conducted her affair with Graham (I TOTALLY SAW THAT COMING), and how she could make any man around her do anything she wanted them to do. Respect for that, sister.
One thing that was here and completely missing in Jane Eyre is the tension between the love interests (let’s face it: St John didn’t stand a chance over Mr. Rochester. None at all). Lucy was actually conflicted about them in a way that simply Jane couldn't be.
Doctor John/Graham had me confused. Mainly because I sort of shipped him with Polly at the beginning (yes, I know that she was six at that point, but I could see them growing up and all that. CUTE). And then I started shipping him with Lucy because she deserved something cute. But again, I almost forgot what the Brontë sisters were all about: BROODING. Graham was many cool things, I’ll admit, but brooding, NOT. So, when Lucy’s feelings for M. Emmanuel began to show, that ship sailed itself.
By the way, what a man was that Monsieur. Most of the time he was criticizing poor Lucy, but at the same time he was so proud of her. One of my favorite parts was precisely when he was almost showing her up to his snobby friends, who didn’t believe his students were any good. And how he kept constantly helping her improve was just perfect. Yeah, that’s my dream man. One who teaches me stuff (and whom I can teach, as well).
And he got Romantic Hero points for his love story with Marie Justine. Come on, it was a pretty sweet piece of story. Though I’d question his so-called-friends. Seriously? Let the poor fellow move on! I know that it’s so cool and Romantic to be constantly mourning a lost love and shit, but… you just can go like that forever. It’s just not healthy. That they tried to divide Lucy and M. Emanuel I wanted to throw my kindle away.
My favorite part was totally when he gave Lucy a school before leaving. It was a pretty good gift. With it, he was not only telling her how much he trusted her, but also that he valued her independence and how high he regarded her intelligence. Man, that was one smooth gift. Of course I fell for him as much as Lucy had! He was basically telling her that he felt she was as able and capable of doing anything on her own, without his help. He was a feminist!
I’ll admit that the ending kind of shocked me. I wanted a sort of bittersweet ending, such as the one in my beloved Jane Eyre. They get to be together, but he is maimed in some way. And they live happily ever after despite everything. When I got to the ending of Villette I was like:
Not fair, Charlotte. I trusted you and you broke my heart! (I guess I know now where John Green learnt from).
It was somewhat ambiguous, but
By the way, for a moment I thought that Miss Brontë had anticipated Henry James’ “The Jolly Corner” and the nun was a projection of her inner conflicts. But no, it was a guy disguised as a nun to visit Ginevra. It was a weird explanation, though. Pretty weird.
I’ll always love Jane Eyre, because of reasons. But Villette has won a special place in my heart. Where all great books go!
Powers by Ursula K. Le Guin
5.0
This is the last book of the Annals of the Western Shore trilogy. And I’ll say a few things about the trilogy as a whole before getting into Powers in particular. I’m amazed by Le Guin’s ability to create a whole world. She created a lot of different worlds and cultures, and they all well developed and interesting. I’d love to visit the Western Shore. It’s a shame that other YA series get so much love, despite being everything but original, and this series doesn’t get much love. It shows young adults being empowered by knowledge and also that you don’t need a romantic relationship as part of the main plot to have a great story.
The main character in this book is Gav, a young slave in the city of Etra (which resembles Ancient Rome/Greece in many senses, as the family organization and the role of the slaves within a family). He’s pretty happy as a slave when the novel begins, as he belongs to a wealthy family which takes decent care of their slaves. Gavir has food, education (he’s also being trained to become a tutor to the future children of the family) and friends. Despite being a slave, he thinks he has a happy childhood, running around with the children of the house (both owners and slaves), and having his sister, Sallo, around.
As in the other books of this trilogy, in Powers one of the main themes is how knowledge can empower people. Gavir is at the very bottom of his society’s pyramid, but his learning allows him to realise all the things that go wrong in his city. It’s especially poignant after Sallo’s rape and death, when he’s finally able to see that he’s in a terrible position. So he runs away, trying to find a place in which he can be happy and safe.
While in the previous book, Orrec Caspro (from Gifts) appears directly to help Mem in her own fight, in this book his presence is somewhat more subtle. Gavir constantly refers to him as one of the greatest modern poets, and Orrec’s poem “Liberty” has a great impact upon young Gav.In the end, after hiding and running away for years, Gavir finds his freedom and the place where he belongs in Orrec’s own house. I loved that, because it brings him to a full circle. Caspro’s words were the first that showed him he could be free, and living at his house, Gav will learn even more, besides being actually free.
Le Guin creates powerful and compassionate characters, that actually evolve as the plot goes on. Especially Gavir. He’s not part of a prophecy of some sort, nor is he born to become a hero. He’s just a regular boy who realises the deep flaws in the system he’s born into, and tries to figure out the best way to escape them. I like to think that when he grows older, he’ll be a fighter for the cause of freedom, and a pacifist. I really loved him as a character and think he’ll do great things. The fact that they go unspoken (he ends his narrative shortly after he arrives to Orrec’s house, but in the beginning he mentions a wife) show how Le Guin’s gives importance to his development, more than to his future achievements. In a way, I think it’s showing that how we get to be great is as important (or more) than the great things we do. The same as with Mem and Orrec, who’ll be great, but that’s not the focus of their books.
An amazing book, that gives an incredible series a great closure.
The main character in this book is Gav, a young slave in the city of Etra (which resembles Ancient Rome/Greece in many senses, as the family organization and the role of the slaves within a family). He’s pretty happy as a slave when the novel begins, as he belongs to a wealthy family which takes decent care of their slaves. Gavir has food, education (he’s also being trained to become a tutor to the future children of the family) and friends. Despite being a slave, he thinks he has a happy childhood, running around with the children of the house (both owners and slaves), and having his sister, Sallo, around.
As in the other books of this trilogy, in Powers one of the main themes is how knowledge can empower people. Gavir is at the very bottom of his society’s pyramid, but his learning allows him to realise all the things that go wrong in his city. It’s especially poignant after Sallo’s rape and death, when he’s finally able to see that he’s in a terrible position. So he runs away, trying to find a place in which he can be happy and safe.
While in the previous book, Orrec Caspro (from Gifts) appears directly to help Mem in her own fight, in this book his presence is somewhat more subtle. Gavir constantly refers to him as one of the greatest modern poets, and Orrec’s poem “Liberty” has a great impact upon young Gav.
Le Guin creates powerful and compassionate characters, that actually evolve as the plot goes on. Especially Gavir. He’s not part of a prophecy of some sort, nor is he born to become a hero. He’s just a regular boy who realises the deep flaws in the system he’s born into, and tries to figure out the best way to escape them. I like to think that when he grows older, he’ll be a fighter for the cause of freedom, and a pacifist. I really loved him as a character and think he’ll do great things. The fact that they go unspoken (he ends his narrative shortly after he arrives to Orrec’s house, but in the beginning he mentions a wife) show how Le Guin’s gives importance to his development, more than to his future achievements. In a way, I think it’s showing that how we get to be great is as important (or more) than the great things we do. The same as with Mem and Orrec, who’ll be great, but that’s not the focus of their books.
An amazing book, that gives an incredible series a great closure.
Voices by Ursula K. Le Guin
5.0
Memer is a siege brat, a child born out of rape and devastation of her beloved city, Ansul. In her life, she has only known their regime; one in which women aren’t able to go out of their houses without fearing being raped, and books are completely forbidden.
But in her house, Memer can get books, which are in a hidden room. The Master of the house, the Waylord of Ansul (a democratic title, mind you) teaches her to read in that place. So Memer grows up between her books and her incursions to the city to do the shopping for the house (dressed as a boy, of course).
The Alds look at the people of Ansul with distrust. They don’t understand their gods, and think that books and writing are the work of demons, which is why they destroyed all of them. Considering that Ansul was a university city, you can imagine there were lots of them. The Alds’ destruction of the books also helped to their bigger purpose: controlling the city. Keep the people ignorant, keep them afraid.
But Memer’s life changes when Orrec and Gry (from the previous book, Gifts) arrive at Ansul. They provide a channel of communication between the Waylord (who offers them his hospitality) and the Alds, especially their leader, who appears to be more open than his men. But there’s still repression and fear for the people of Ansul and a revolution is coming.
This book deals with several of the topics found in Gifts. For example, we have knowledge as a freeing agent. Memer’s learning and studying of the books n her house set her apart from the scared people of the city, who had been forbidden the same knowledge. While at first the knowledge is confined to the little room, when it is finally released, the city can be free of their invader.
Memer’s development throughout the book is also cool. When it begins, she both hates and fears the Alds, because they have actively enslaved and captured her fellow citizens. But as the novel progresses, she’s able to see that not all of them are that bad, and that understanding another culture is important for relations. And she doesn’t fear them anymore, as well.
At the beginning of the book, Memer’s status as a girl only allows her to go outside in disguise. She has to hide in order to be able to elude being attacked or raped by the Ald soldiers. By the end of the novel, not only is she able to go out in her own skin, but she’s also well-known as helping the Waylord. Her physical liberty implies a mental one, as well. And seeing her being empowered was brilliant. She clearly has the power to influence her people greatly.
I also liked learning about Gry’s and Orrec’s fates. I loved them together in Gifts, and here as well. Though it broke my heart a little when they saidthat their daughter died a baby . They both appear to complete each other, they work together as a team and are amazing altogether.
I’m loving this series, so I’m already reading the final one (lovin’ it so far).
But in her house, Memer can get books, which are in a hidden room. The Master of the house, the Waylord of Ansul (a democratic title, mind you) teaches her to read in that place. So Memer grows up between her books and her incursions to the city to do the shopping for the house (dressed as a boy, of course).
The Alds look at the people of Ansul with distrust. They don’t understand their gods, and think that books and writing are the work of demons, which is why they destroyed all of them. Considering that Ansul was a university city, you can imagine there were lots of them. The Alds’ destruction of the books also helped to their bigger purpose: controlling the city. Keep the people ignorant, keep them afraid.
But Memer’s life changes when Orrec and Gry (from the previous book, Gifts) arrive at Ansul. They provide a channel of communication between the Waylord (who offers them his hospitality) and the Alds, especially their leader, who appears to be more open than his men. But there’s still repression and fear for the people of Ansul and a revolution is coming.
This book deals with several of the topics found in Gifts. For example, we have knowledge as a freeing agent. Memer’s learning and studying of the books n her house set her apart from the scared people of the city, who had been forbidden the same knowledge. While at first the knowledge is confined to the little room, when it is finally released, the city can be free of their invader.
Memer’s development throughout the book is also cool. When it begins, she both hates and fears the Alds, because they have actively enslaved and captured her fellow citizens. But as the novel progresses, she’s able to see that not all of them are that bad, and that understanding another culture is important for relations. And she doesn’t fear them anymore, as well.
At the beginning of the book, Memer’s status as a girl only allows her to go outside in disguise. She has to hide in order to be able to elude being attacked or raped by the Ald soldiers. By the end of the novel, not only is she able to go out in her own skin, but she’s also well-known as helping the Waylord. Her physical liberty implies a mental one, as well. And seeing her being empowered was brilliant. She clearly has the power to influence her people greatly.
I also liked learning about Gry’s and Orrec’s fates. I loved them together in Gifts, and here as well. Though it broke my heart a little when they said
I’m loving this series, so I’m already reading the final one (lovin’ it so far).
Gifts by Ursula K. Le Guin
4.0
My professor at the Children’s Lit course I took last semester said that Ursula K. Le Guin was one of the best fantasy authors around. And she recommended this trilogy (the second book Voices in particular, but I like reading sagas in order) because she loved it. So, here am I, a nerd through and through and reading this in my holidays.
I enjoyed the story a lot. Though, more than the story per se, I enjoyed firs the world building behind this novel. It is set in a world divided between the Lowlands and the Uplands. People in the Uplands are kind of a mixture between Highlanders and Vikings (they raid) and they are sometimes born with certain powers, the Gifts, which are different for each clan. In the case of Orrec, the protagonist/narrator of this novel, it is “unmaking”, which is a fancy way of saying “to kill”.
Orrec’s family is known because they can kill or destroy things with their sight. When Orrec finally shows his power, they discover that not only he has it, but it is also a wild gift. He can’t control it, despite all the training his father has given him through the years. So, his parents decide to make him wear a blindfold, less the gift gets out of control.
Orrec’s best friend is a girl his age, Gry. Her gift is to call the animals, but she refuses to use it for hunting, as her parents expect her to do.
This is a coming-of-age novel, and it deals with many topics. Orrec looks for independence beside his family’s expectations (which could be represented by his power), and his knowledge as an alternate source of power. His mother is from the Lowlands (called Callucs as a derogatory term), and she is the only one in the uplands who actually know how to read, and she teaches Gry and Orrec too.
His change is related to something we all get at some point in our lives: we realize we’re not our parents and we need to discover who we are and what we want to do with our lives. Even if our families don’t have death glare powers, we still have to deal with those issues.
There’s also something about storytelling. I think there’s an essay by Le Guin which talks about the different stories told by women and men in the stone age, and I think these ideas play a role in this novel. Just take a look at the stories that Canoc and Melle tell Orrec and Gry, they are completely different. Hers are about heroes who do the right thing, while his are about great displays of power.
My only problem with the book was that a certain point I felt I was a so immersed in the world (and the stories they told) that the actual plot was kind of lost for me. And then I got a lot of events quickly succeeding each other and the story ended. I was left wanting more. A lot more.
I enjoyed this novel a lot and I can’t wait to read the next one (which my professor said was her favorite).
I enjoyed the story a lot. Though, more than the story per se, I enjoyed firs the world building behind this novel. It is set in a world divided between the Lowlands and the Uplands. People in the Uplands are kind of a mixture between Highlanders and Vikings (they raid) and they are sometimes born with certain powers, the Gifts, which are different for each clan. In the case of Orrec, the protagonist/narrator of this novel, it is “unmaking”, which is a fancy way of saying “to kill”.
Orrec’s family is known because they can kill or destroy things with their sight. When Orrec finally shows his power, they discover that not only he has it, but it is also a wild gift. He can’t control it, despite all the training his father has given him through the years. So, his parents decide to make him wear a blindfold, less the gift gets out of control.
Orrec’s best friend is a girl his age, Gry. Her gift is to call the animals, but she refuses to use it for hunting, as her parents expect her to do.
This is a coming-of-age novel, and it deals with many topics. Orrec looks for independence beside his family’s expectations (which could be represented by his power), and his knowledge as an alternate source of power. His mother is from the Lowlands (called Callucs as a derogatory term), and she is the only one in the uplands who actually know how to read, and she teaches Gry and Orrec too.
His change is related to something we all get at some point in our lives: we realize we’re not our parents and we need to discover who we are and what we want to do with our lives. Even if our families don’t have death glare powers, we still have to deal with those issues.
There’s also something about storytelling. I think there’s an essay by Le Guin which talks about the different stories told by women and men in the stone age, and I think these ideas play a role in this novel. Just take a look at the stories that Canoc and Melle tell Orrec and Gry, they are completely different. Hers are about heroes who do the right thing, while his are about great displays of power.
My only problem with the book was that a certain point I felt I was a so immersed in the world (and the stories they told) that the actual plot was kind of lost for me. And then I got a lot of events quickly succeeding each other and the story ended. I was left wanting more. A lot more.
I enjoyed this novel a lot and I can’t wait to read the next one (which my professor said was her favorite).
Wit: A Play by Margaret Edson
5.0
This is one powerful play. I'd really love to watch it on stae and to see how everything is interpreted. Of course I pictured everything in my head, but seeing a play on stage is never the same as imagining it (and it's usually easier to picture it as a movie of some sorts, forgetting about the stage). So, I'd be totally on board for a performance of Wit
The play is about Vivian Bearing a 50-year-old English Literature professor (especialized in John Donne's poetry), who is diagnosed with terminal ovarian cancer (stage IV). The play is narrated by her, telling us about her life as a professor, her diagnosis and treatment and her meditations on life an death.
That's the most powerful thing about the play, questioning about the important things in life. At the beginning, Vivian is kind of emotionally detached. She is single, has no family or emergency contacts, and is clearly dedicated to intellectual work, rather than humanity. There is a point on the play where she recalls listening two of her students joking about something she said in class. She says that the exchange was funny, yes, but she valued wit in poetry, not in conversation (or something along that line). I think that showed her character pretty well.
When she discovers her illness, she becomes something like the poetry she's been studying her whole life. She's an object of study, of multiple tests and cold examination by people that don't really care about her. One of her doctors is a young man who took her course in college. He clearly admires her, but he's not able to see her as a person as he treats her. He also comments that the course she taught was incredibly detached, for a course that dealt with poetry, and that he had courses on chemestry that felt more humane (again, I can't remember the exact words, but they were something similar). At the beginning, Vivian was somewhat detached from herself, and looked at herself as an object of study. But, as the play progresses, she realizes that she misses the human touch. She decides that she prefes kindness over intellectualism.
The thing that finally sold the play to me was the ending. It was gorgeous. As Vivian reached the final stage with lots of pain and suffering, a nurse, Susie, told her that she could chose the option of DNR (do not resucitate) if her heart stopped. Vivian decided to accept it, as she clearly wants to stop being an object. She wants the pain to end. I loved Susie for treating her as a person, for allowing her that choice, in a way neither of her doctors did.
The play ends when Vivian's heart stops. Jason (the young doctor who took her course) tries to resucitate her, saying that she is research, while Susie tries to stop him, explaining that it was Vivian's choice. Jason doesn't stop his attempts until he hears the voice of Doctor Kelekian, the head doctor, and he lets Vivian go. The stage directions mention that while the Code team talk about what happened and Jason is shocked by his mess-up, Vivan gets up and begins disrobing as she walks towards a line. That's the end of the play, a beautiful image and acceptance of death as an inevitable fact of life.
As mentioned, that sold the play for me. Just imagining that image blew my mind and made me all teary-eyed. I love when death is not treated as the worse that could happen, just as a normal fact of life. Very beautiful and says a lot with very little words. That's talent!
The play is about Vivian Bearing a 50-year-old English Literature professor (especialized in John Donne's poetry), who is diagnosed with terminal ovarian cancer (stage IV). The play is narrated by her, telling us about her life as a professor, her diagnosis and treatment and her meditations on life an death.
That's the most powerful thing about the play, questioning about the important things in life. At the beginning, Vivian is kind of emotionally detached. She is single, has no family or emergency contacts, and is clearly dedicated to intellectual work, rather than humanity. There is a point on the play where she recalls listening two of her students joking about something she said in class. She says that the exchange was funny, yes, but she valued wit in poetry, not in conversation (or something along that line). I think that showed her character pretty well.
When she discovers her illness, she becomes something like the poetry she's been studying her whole life. She's an object of study, of multiple tests and cold examination by people that don't really care about her. One of her doctors is a young man who took her course in college. He clearly admires her, but he's not able to see her as a person as he treats her. He also comments that the course she taught was incredibly detached, for a course that dealt with poetry, and that he had courses on chemestry that felt more humane (again, I can't remember the exact words, but they were something similar). At the beginning, Vivian was somewhat detached from herself, and looked at herself as an object of study. But, as the play progresses, she realizes that she misses the human touch. She decides that she prefes kindness over intellectualism.
The thing that finally sold the play to me was the ending. It was gorgeous. As Vivian reached the final stage with lots of pain and suffering, a nurse, Susie, told her that she could chose the option of DNR (do not resucitate) if her heart stopped. Vivian decided to accept it, as she clearly wants to stop being an object. She wants the pain to end. I loved Susie for treating her as a person, for allowing her that choice, in a way neither of her doctors did.
The play ends when Vivian's heart stops. Jason (the young doctor who took her course) tries to resucitate her, saying that she is research, while Susie tries to stop him, explaining that it was Vivian's choice. Jason doesn't stop his attempts until he hears the voice of Doctor Kelekian, the head doctor, and he lets Vivian go. The stage directions mention that while the Code team talk about what happened and Jason is shocked by his mess-up, Vivan gets up and begins disrobing as she walks towards a line. That's the end of the play, a beautiful image and acceptance of death as an inevitable fact of life.
As mentioned, that sold the play for me. Just imagining that image blew my mind and made me all teary-eyed. I love when death is not treated as the worse that could happen, just as a normal fact of life. Very beautiful and says a lot with very little words. That's talent!
A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula K. Le Guin
4.0
I’ve wanted to read A Wizard of Earthsea (and the rest of the books in the saga, but that’ll have to wait) for some time. So having this as a required reading for a class, made me very happy. So, here’s my review.
The first volume of the saga narrates the story of Ged, a young man that has incredible abilities. He learns magic at first from his aunt, who is some sort of local witch. Even if she cannot teach him everything that his abilities could ask, she gives him the first glimpses into the world of magic. After saving his hometown of an invasion, Ged gets the visit of a wizard that offers to train him. And then he goes to a school of magic (that is not really like Hogwarts, mind you) and fights dragons.
So, yes, Ged is pretty cool.
But he’s also stubborn, proud and sometime a little selfish. Of course, this leads to a lot of trouble for him, as he constantly feels like he has to prove himself to other. This, of course, leads to several dangerous moments, the worst being the one in which he invokes a shadow. This ends up killing one of his masters in the school, as he tries to protect Ged from what he’s done. Of course, the boy is pretty much traumatized by the experience and decides to run away from it forever.
One of the themes that appear constantly throughout the novel is the idea of identity. Ged himself is known by several names in his life; and it is explicitly stated that your “real name” is not something you’d tell anyone. “Identity” here is made synonymous with “essence”. Your real name in Ged’s world is the only way people can have power over you. Names are important in terms for understanding the world and being able to control it. Besides, the whole journey Ged undergoes is precisely aimed at that, at him finding his identity and reconciling himself to that other, darker, side of him. I liked that part, because the book makes it very clear that there’s not black and white, but rather a lot of grayish tones in between. Darkness is a part of us, and the only way to control it is to accept it.
The book also makes a lot of references to the idea of the circle of life. There’s a scene in which Ged wants so save his friend’s son, but remember that one of his masters told him once that some people have to let go. I think that is a point of inflection in the novel, as it marks the beginning of Ged’s journey to destroy the shadow that keeps haunting him through all his life. He’s upset the balance and he has to restore it.
So, I’d recommend this book to any fantasy lover. It might not have the complex mythology that you get from Tolkien, but it is a very good story, with interesting characters and so on. I really want to get to read the rest of the novels in the saga… soon.
The first volume of the saga narrates the story of Ged, a young man that has incredible abilities. He learns magic at first from his aunt, who is some sort of local witch. Even if she cannot teach him everything that his abilities could ask, she gives him the first glimpses into the world of magic. After saving his hometown of an invasion, Ged gets the visit of a wizard that offers to train him. And then he goes to a school of magic (that is not really like Hogwarts, mind you) and fights dragons.
So, yes, Ged is pretty cool.
But he’s also stubborn, proud and sometime a little selfish. Of course, this leads to a lot of trouble for him, as he constantly feels like he has to prove himself to other. This, of course, leads to several dangerous moments, the worst being the one in which he invokes a shadow. This ends up killing one of his masters in the school, as he tries to protect Ged from what he’s done. Of course, the boy is pretty much traumatized by the experience and decides to run away from it forever.
One of the themes that appear constantly throughout the novel is the idea of identity. Ged himself is known by several names in his life; and it is explicitly stated that your “real name” is not something you’d tell anyone. “Identity” here is made synonymous with “essence”. Your real name in Ged’s world is the only way people can have power over you. Names are important in terms for understanding the world and being able to control it. Besides, the whole journey Ged undergoes is precisely aimed at that, at him finding his identity and reconciling himself to that other, darker, side of him. I liked that part, because the book makes it very clear that there’s not black and white, but rather a lot of grayish tones in between. Darkness is a part of us, and the only way to control it is to accept it.
The book also makes a lot of references to the idea of the circle of life. There’s a scene in which Ged wants so save his friend’s son, but remember that one of his masters told him once that some people have to let go. I think that is a point of inflection in the novel, as it marks the beginning of Ged’s journey to destroy the shadow that keeps haunting him through all his life. He’s upset the balance and he has to restore it.
So, I’d recommend this book to any fantasy lover. It might not have the complex mythology that you get from Tolkien, but it is a very good story, with interesting characters and so on. I really want to get to read the rest of the novels in the saga… soon.