I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak

Genre: Young adult fiction
Publisher, Year: Knopf Books, 2005
Other Works: The Book Thief
Flags: Adult themes, tenuous references
Rating: A, or Great Read
Challenge: 100 Books, Library
Premise: A young man finds himself on a journey to complete certain tasks: protect the diamonds, survive the clubs, dig deep through the spades, and feel the hearts.

I really enjoyed The Book Thief, so when a friend mentioned that she liked this book, I figured I should give it a go. Took me awhile to get around to it, slowly but surely. This one wasn't an automatic for me, but in the end, I think I liked it. I'm still not totally certain. Of one thing I am certain however, and that's that Zusak is a very talented, very brave writer. And even though I didn't love, love, love this book, I still have strong feelings for him as an author. (In the most Platonic way, of course--hehe.)

Ed Kennedy is going nowhere. He's a nineteen-year-old cabbie, making ends meet and playing cards--that's about the extent of his life. Until one day, he and his friends stumble into a bank robbery, where Ed finds himself in the unlikely role of hero. That's when he receives his first card, and his life changes forever. He faces each challenge completely empty-handed, looking and searching for ways to help the people he has to help. This time, failure is not an option. And as he meets his challenges, each one more difficult than the last, Ed finds something in himself that he never knew was there.

I loved Ed--there's something about him that is truly endearing. He's hopeless, and he doesn't care about that. He lives in the most honest way he can muster and looks for a bit a joy where he can find it. But he learns through his challenges, that that is not enough. It's not enough to live small. I think what Zusak touches on here is borrowed from John Donne. The idea that each of us is lacking something that someone else can fill, thereby making an entagled web of connections between all of our human hearts.

And when that happens, when that intricate web is woven, you find love there--great love. A love that can only develop through great sacrifice. This was the part I felt I needed a few days to marinate with, after turning the last page. Because at times this story is violent, overly so. And that part confused me. For Ed, this journey was painful in every sense--emotionally and physically. And after all was said and done, the pain tied him to each person he met in such a deep way, as that pain slowly transformed into love. But why did it have to be so painful? Why were the consequences so great? And then I realized that it wasn't the pain that formed that unbreakable human bond--it was the act of sacrifice. And sacrifice is always painful. Without pain, there is no sacrifice. But without sacrifice, there is no love. And if you take away love, then you are left empty.

Zusak illuminates these sentiments with perfect clarity, without becoming sentimental. Every page is shot through with the most beautiful poetry and lasting images. But I have to say that I was disappointed in the ending, which I felt took away from the meaning of the story and made it feel arbitrary. However, I think this has very little to do with the quality of the writer, or even the book, but rather is a symptom of the process that is a writing career. Zusak is ever improving--he can't be thought at fault because of his success. These rungs on the ladder have to come from somewhere. And in that, I can pardon this terrible disappointment, and I didn't let it ruin the experience for me. And that's exactly the word I would use to describle this book--an experience. One that won't fade for some time, I'm sure. So yes, I think I liked I Am the Messenger--I'm pretty sure I did. =)

The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes

Genre: Fiction
Publisher, Year: Knopf, 2011
Other Works: England, England and Arthur & George
Flags: Moderate language, Explicit references
Rating: A+, or Must Read Now!
Challenge: 100 Books
Premise: Prompted by a curious package, an older man reflects back on his life and some events of his youth that may turn out to be very different than he remembers.

I got this book for Christmas last year, with a nice little gift certificate tucked in the front cover. I always get nervous when I buy a book that I haven’t read before (even though this one was technically purchased for me). Yes, it’s true—I will go and buy a book after I’ve read it from the library. That way, I spend wisely! Anyway, this one turned out to be not worth the nerves at all. It was a beautiful masterpiece, in my opinion, and completely deserving of the Booker prize. That being said, and as much as youth is discussed in this book, I would not recommend this one for younger readers.

The book opens with a group of boys, Tony being our narrator, in high school, debating ideas and philosophy. One boy, Adrian, is clearly the intellectual superior, which makes him the most popular of the group. His comments are always surprising, and yet somehow, spot on. As the boys grow up and go off the college, they grow apart, but each one tries to maintain a friendship with Adrian, Tony included. Tony experiences new things in school, the most important of which is that he gets his first girlfriend. When these two worlds collide, it will set in motion a series of events that will end in tragedy, which will come back to haunt him in his later years, revealing new information that will grip Tony with the realization that things have not always been what they seemed, that perhaps even he is not the person he thought he was.

[Disclaimer: I’m not going to talk about the actual plot points of this book because I feel you have to read them as Barnes intended. There’s an itching temptation to give away too much. And I hope that will be enough to entice you read it yourself!]

I think this book starts out sort of ordinarily pretentious. Those opening pages resemble what some have related to Dead Poets Society, and I have to admit that they did conjure up those images: standing on desks, clapping in a circle, ripping out pages, opening young minds. But it soon takes a turn, and by the end, I could see how every paragraph, every sentence was meticulously chosen—every moment a meaning. Not a word was wasted. And meaning poured forth, like a river of truth.

I love Barnes’s thoughts on the young and the old. The audacity of youth: the innocence, the dreams, the freedom. And that is juxtaposed against the reality of old age: the ordinariness of life, when dreams fall away and the everyday takes shape. He calls it comfortable, peaceable. Tony chose the peaceable way, but in the end, did he choose comfort over fulfilling his potential? Or did he really never have a lot of potential in the first place?

When we are young, we want to believe we are special; we want to believe we are good. When we think back on our memories, we see ourselves in the critical light of the time. We don’t analyze our actions and decisions with the wisdom that age brings, nor are we in any way unbiased. And Tony gets to experience the unpleasantness of questioning himself, after all those years. Here he says of youth: “What you fail to do is look ahead, and then imagine yourself looking back from that future point. Learning the new emotions that time brings. Discovering, for example, that as the witnesses to your life diminish, there is less corroboration, and therefore less certainty, as to what you are or have been.”

And yet, time marches on. It continues forward no matter what our regrets or fears. Whatever we have done with our lives, ordinary or extraordinary or rash, it is done. One event follows another, and each domino falls. And all those events are gathered in to produce a person’s character. The problem is, that the discrepancy between what I think my character entails and what others do, can be vastly different. And as time goes on, as we’ve established it inevitably will, those memories get hazy and misshapen. How can we really be sure of anything? Even something as personal as ourselves? Our own lives? Who we are.

I am going to go so far as to say that this book is genius. It’s a short read but so packed with meaning, I am still reeling from it. I know it will merit rereads in the future and continue to become only that more valuable to me. Oh, and the other thing: I loved it. I absolutely loved it.

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See

Genre: Historical fiction
Publisher, Year: Random House, 2005
Other Works: Shanghai Girls, Dreams of Joy
Flags: Adult themes, tenuous references
Rating: A+, or Must Read Now!
Challenge: 100 Books, Historical Fiction
Premise: Two girls grow into women and confront the difficulties of life together in nineteenth century China.

I first heard of Lisa See when Shanghai Girls came out. The cover was beautiful, and I'd always planned on reading one of her books at some point but had yet to get around to it. My awesome book club struck again in that one of our members made me finally make good on my intentions with Snow Flower and the Secret Fan.

Lily and Snow Flower were born in the same month, have the same number of siblings, and had their feet bound on the same day. All of their characters match, and so they become laotong, or old sames. Together they learn many things that women need to know: how to sew and cook and clean, how to be a proper wife, and the importance of bearing sons to carry on the next generation. They pass messages back and forth and record important details about their lives on a fan in their secret women's language, nu shu. And eventually, as women, they will support one another through the most difficult of hardships. In other words, they are as close as two people can be. Until one day, a fatal mistake leaves them both heartsick and alone, cut off from each other.

I simply loved this book. I think the success of Lisa See's writing is equal parts history and narrative. That she is an expert researcher cannot be denied. It comes through on every page as the details and hardships of nineteenth century China unfold. She paints a picture in your mind, so vivid I was completely enveloped by it. In the morning, as I ate breakfast, I thought of congee. As I went through my day, I thought of the stifling confines of the women's chamber. When I did my laundry, I thought about making and intricately embroidering an entire wardrobe. And never far from my mind were the many freedoms that were withheld from women of that period.

But beyond that, See created faces to go with those truths--that way of life that so many knew. The foot binding scene was incredibly haunting, almost too horrible to read, not because of the torturous nature of the practice, although that comes through, but because it was happening to Lily--a girl who loved to run and be outside. A little girl, trying to please her mother and accept her future but still a child. When Snow Flower and Lily meet and begin sharing everything with each other, I allowed myself a sigh of relief because now they would each have love in their lives, a way to be lifted. But a terrible foreboding was always present, a black cloud over the small happinesses afforded Lily and Snowflower. For Lily tells us in the opening paragraphs of the novel that she did not value the greatest love in her life, that she pays the consequences of regret in her old age.

Really, I think this story is about the complexity of love. Love can be a great motivator for good, but can also cause the greatest of sorrows. In a culture where relationships were unduly strained, where feelings were suppressed, Snow Flower and Lily found a way to love each other as women, as equals. And yet, as that relationship endured and situations changed, that love was tested and did not always hold true. Jealousy and pride are as ugly as love is beautiful, and when they creep in, they can, in a short time, eat away at a lifetime of trust.

No matter what women of the period were subjected to, foot binding, a low marriage, an abusive husband, etc., it would definitely be a mistake to assume that those things meant that they had no power. Just because their power wasn't explicit doesn't mean it didn't exist. As much as men were considered to be superior, women's influence was felt everywhere, and they found ways to express it--through their secret writings, in the rearing of their children, in their acceptance of their fates.

I finished this book with the feeling of quiet resignation that becomes Lily as an old woman, sitting quietly, waiting to enter the next world. Hers is a life of abundance, yet some missteps haunt her year after year. We all make those mistakes in life, if we are lucky we can correct them. But often, we are unlucky, and instead we cringe and wring our hands at those memories, wishing we could go back for just a moment and act with greater thoughtfulness. In the end, this story sits in my mind like a Chinese proverb, a cautionary tale. A reminder to cherish, to be grateful, to live without regret.

Here Be Dragons by Sharon Kay Penman

Genre: Historical fiction
Publisher, Year: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1985
Other Works: The Sunne in Splendor
Flags: Moderate language, Adult themes, Explicit references
Rating: A, or Great Read
Challenge: 100 Books
Premise: A King's daughter is married to a neighboring country's Prince as a token of peace. However, new family ties prove difficult when conflicts arise.

First off, it took me six months to finish Here Be Dragons. You read me right. It feels decievingly light, small enough to fit in a handbag. Although it couldn't be construed as a "light" read—all you have to do is flip through to realize that it's quite substantial—this book reads heavy.

Penman chronicles the lives of Llewelyn the Great of Wales and King John of England. These two leaders connect themselves through the marriage of John's illegitamite daughter, Joanna, to the much older Welsh Prince. She lives with Lewelyn and learns the customs and ways of the Welsh. Family ties are strained however, as Lewelyn's existing children try to accept his new wife and when English interests conflict with Welsh ones, leaving Joanna caught in the middle.

Penman's extensive research of her chosen topic could not be better demonstrated. She could never be accused of not being thorough. This skill has pros and cons, however, because it makes some sections read more like a history text than a novel. But, after awhile—because you'll have the time—Penman's storytelling style becomes more comfortable. The first onslaught of names and titles causes disorientation, but then it becomes more of a parade of people, gently making their way in the background, and only the most important and memorable characters stand out. They make themselves known; there's no need to "keep track."

What I love about Here Be Dragons is similar to why I love Tracy Chevalier—an author who takes a piece of artwork, together with a few loose facts, and lets the imagination run riot. Penman does the same thing with a list of names and dates. She takes what history provides and adds motivations, political ambitions, loyalties, love. And the result is a plethora of amazing characters and carefully entangled relationships. She leads us through the spectrum of emotions: the contended bliss of a happy marriage to the endless despair of betrayal to the urgent violence of war to the heartbreaking frustration of disappointment. And I have to say that I don't know that I've ever felt so enveloped in a new world as I did in this book. I've been sucked into books before, but never have a felt so at home there, so informed. As if it were natural for me to be there, watching the events unfold.

This is not a story of a couple incidents, tied together by a few main characters. This story is a saga. And really, when you try to boil it down (if that's even possible), Here Be Dragons is about the tested and tried love between Llewelyn and Joanna. A love that thrives in the cracks of the concrete, flourishing under impossible circumstances, nurished only because neither will accept failure. Fraught with hardship, they find a way, and in their determination, a hope for the future is born. Although, in the end, I suppose the same could be said of Llewelyn and his fierce loyalty to the land, Gywnedd, to his people—in a way, he was wed to her, too.

This book is one of those that you could never sit down and read hour upon hour, although I wouldn't call it one that was easy to put down. More because of its sheer density. It's one that had to be digested in sections. It requires time to ponder. Just “one more chapter” before bed will find you reading in the wee small hours. For me, it was absolutely worth the commitment, and I am looking forward to tackling the other two books in the trilogy—sometime soon.

100+ Books in a Year Challenge

Join the challenge here.
Ends: December 31, 2012

1. Here Be Dragons by Sharon Kay Penman
2. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See
3. The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes
4. I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak