Contemporary YA books like this one that usually follow the same baseline premise (girl and a guy, girl falls for guy, guy falls for girl, yadda yadda) are usually a hit or miss. Well, let me tell you, The Anatomical Shape of a Heart is definitely a hit. At least it was for me.
There's really nothing that sets the book apart from other books of its kind if you read the dust jacket description. But what drew me to it was the setting; urban San Francisco. I've read so many books with mundane suburban settings, so it was nice to read about characters taking metro trains and buses and living that city life. That's how Beatrix meets Jack, on a late night bus. I really liked how Beatrix, who has a bit of a shattered family life, clearly liked Jack when she first met him based on her narration, but on the outside, she didn't let him in at first. I found that very realistic. I also liked how Jack's appearance and the fact that he's an earthy Buddhist sets up an image that makes him seem like he could be a homeless youth or something, but that is so not the case, and that just goes to show that everyone is fighting different battles that you don't know the half of. To know someone is to be invited into their life, and lots of time what we don't share outwardly are the biggest parts of our lives. Beatrix's life goal was also unique and interesting; she likes drawing anatomy and wants to illustrate bodies for textbook diagrams and such. It's one of those professions that you don't really think about until you do; someone has to do that, so who does?
Another thing I loved about The Anatomical Shape of a Heart was how the author, Jenn Bennett, included a gay character that was in no way influenced by heteronormativity, Beatrix's older brother Heath. If you can write gay characters that are just people without making them seem like aliens compared to straight people, I immediately love you. I don't think it was ever said that Heath "is gay", he has a boyfriend named Noah and came home from a club with glitter stuck to him (LOL). Bennett's writing just made it seem so normal and commonplace and for that I commend her, because this is how it should be in real life; no heteronormativity, just life. I also find it kind of like an oxymoron; because 95% of contemporary YA books are about cliché teenage straight couples, so for a book with a baseline premise we've seen a thousand other times to include a strong, normal gay character like Heath is bordering on groundbreaking, if you ask me.
I blew through The Anatomical Shape of a Heart quicker than I thought it would, so it's an easy, breezy, enjoyable read. Another good thing about it is that it portrays sex in a really open and honest way; most parents would like to believe that their children don't fantasize about sex or begin to develop sexual desires, but they do, and this book really hits the mark on that. If you're a contemporary YA fan, I definitely recommend. 5/5 stars.
Friday, July 29, 2016
Sunday, July 24, 2016
Book Reviews: 'The Lover's Dictionary' by David Levithan and 'Will Grayson, Will Grayson' by John Green & David Levithan
1. The Lover's Dictionary, by David Levithan:
I really enjoyed this one. It is the story of a couple told entirely through dictionary entries, with different words expressing different experiences, both good and bad. It's also my first official David Levithan book, as I've only read short stories and other little tidbits of things that he's written. I blew through it rather quickly, as some pages only have one or two sentences on it. It's always a risky move when authors choose to tell a story in a different way, like dictionary entries, but The Lover's Dictionary was definitely done right. I would even consider reading it again because there were some lovely passages that warrant being read more than once. 5/5 stars.
2. Will Grayson, Will Grayson, by John Green & David Levithan:
There's only one way for me to describe this book: it has some really great parts, but they really aren't working together. Also, am I the only one who went into Will Grayson, Will Grayson expecting a romance between two guys named Will Grayson? Or is that just me? Because, let me tell you, I spent the first 150 pages waiting for it to happen. I kept coming up with ideas in my head of how the two main characters, both coincidentally named Will Grayson, would end up together. But nope, it never happens, so don't go into this book thinking that's what it's about because, trust me, it's not. The chapters alternate between authors and the Will Graysons' perspectives, with John Green writing the first Will Grayson, and David Levithan writing the second. I kept thinking Green's Will Grayson would suddenly realize he's bisexual or something and it wouldn't be a big deal or some painful coming out story, but nope, he's what I like to call tragically straight (i.e. it's a shame he's straight, because I'd like him to be gay). Green's Will Grayson also seems to want some sort of medal for putting up with having a flamboyantly gay best friend, Tiny Cooper, who is well-loved among readers according to the Internet. Well, I wasn't a big fan. He's not a bad character, but the story starts to revolve around him more than anything after a certain point, and I didn't like him enough to enjoy those parts. Like I said, Will Grayson, Will Grayson has some great parts, but they're just not working together to make one good story as a whole. I think I would have enjoyed it much more if it was just written entirely by David Levithan, because I didn't pick this book up thinking, "Oh, let me read another cliché romance about a straight guy and a straight girl," because that's what John Green's parts ended up becoming. Boring. I didn't hate it, but I didn't exactly love it either. It could have been much better and based on the authors' separate works, it definitely could have been, which makes it all the more disappointing that it's not. 3.5/5 stars.
Friday, July 15, 2016
Book Review: 'The Lake House' by Kate Morton
Sigh.
I admit defeat. I could not get through this book. Believe me, I tried. But I could not. And I'll let you in on why.
There was a time where Kate Morton was one if not my only favorite author. The way she weaved through time periods, with family secrets spilling over onto future generations, it was just super entertaining and the kind of books I enjoyed getting lost in. Her first three novels, The House at Riverton, The Forgotten Garden and The Distant Hours, are my favorites. If I had to pick one novel as my absolute favorite, it would definitely be The Forgotten Garden. One of my all-time favorite books,
But around her fourth book, I started having a hard time getting through it. It could be entirely on me; maybe I just don't have the attention span or the patience or the diligence to read a story that's 400+ pages and shifts through different time periods. It sounds exhausting to read when I put it that way, but I never once felt like that when reading, say, The Forgotten Garden. Sure, it wasn't a book that I blew threw in a week, it took time to get through and fully appreciate and there's nothing wrong with that. But Morton's fourth book, The Secret Keeper, was very hard for me to get through. Took me months. But I guess I could say it was worth it, because I absolutely loved the ending (among Morton's best, I think) and I think it makes up for all the slow-moving parts in the middle. So, when I started to encounter some of those parts in The Lake House, I told myself to keep powering through, it has to get better. It's Kate Morton, after all. But I just couldn't.
The Lake House's premise is quite different from Morton's previous novels. Sure, it has the same formula; a mysterious family from the 1900s, an idyllic house, and something that went hidden for decades. But the key difference between The Lake House and Morton's other books is that the person trying to figure out the mystery, a police detective named Sadie Sparrow, has no relation to the family whatsoever. She's just a cop, in turmoil from a recent case, who decides she has to find out what happened. Okay, but that wasn't the dealbreaker. What made me dislike The Lake House more and more was the plotting. The mystery goes that the baby of the Edevane family, Theo, went missing at the family's Midsummer party at their estate, Loeanneth; the case went cold and the house went abandoned. All we have is this incessant foreshadowing that one of Theo's sisters, Alice, might have had something to do with it. In a typical Morton novel, the chapters range from one time period to the next. All we seem to have in The Lake House is chapters that go back to the parents' meeting, or to the night or days leading up to Theo's disappearance. It just got so boring. There was no multi-faceted cast of characters, just the family whose baby brother went missing and some cop who becomes invested in the story. The Lake House did not remind me of the Kate Morton I fell in love with.
To compare, let's take my favorite, The Forgotten Garden. In that story, it follows a granddaughter trying to find out where her grandmother, Nell, came from after her death. Meanwhile, several chapters are written from Nell's perspective as she tries to discover where she came from decades prior when she was alive. We see two generations uncovering a mystery at different stages in life, meanwhile, a very interesting mystery developing itself through other characters in a different time period. The Lake House has none of that and seems like an unoriginal mystery in comparison. I also noticed a lot of similarities in character details from other previous Morton novels, which to me just seems recycled and tragically uncreative.
So, I didn't get through The Lake House. Maybe I'll return to it some day to find out what happened to that baby, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just stare at the cover, which is very aesthetically pleasing, and pretend its pages hold a different mystery that is much better than the one that actually lies within. 2/5 stars.
I admit defeat. I could not get through this book. Believe me, I tried. But I could not. And I'll let you in on why.
There was a time where Kate Morton was one if not my only favorite author. The way she weaved through time periods, with family secrets spilling over onto future generations, it was just super entertaining and the kind of books I enjoyed getting lost in. Her first three novels, The House at Riverton, The Forgotten Garden and The Distant Hours, are my favorites. If I had to pick one novel as my absolute favorite, it would definitely be The Forgotten Garden. One of my all-time favorite books,
But around her fourth book, I started having a hard time getting through it. It could be entirely on me; maybe I just don't have the attention span or the patience or the diligence to read a story that's 400+ pages and shifts through different time periods. It sounds exhausting to read when I put it that way, but I never once felt like that when reading, say, The Forgotten Garden. Sure, it wasn't a book that I blew threw in a week, it took time to get through and fully appreciate and there's nothing wrong with that. But Morton's fourth book, The Secret Keeper, was very hard for me to get through. Took me months. But I guess I could say it was worth it, because I absolutely loved the ending (among Morton's best, I think) and I think it makes up for all the slow-moving parts in the middle. So, when I started to encounter some of those parts in The Lake House, I told myself to keep powering through, it has to get better. It's Kate Morton, after all. But I just couldn't.
The Lake House's premise is quite different from Morton's previous novels. Sure, it has the same formula; a mysterious family from the 1900s, an idyllic house, and something that went hidden for decades. But the key difference between The Lake House and Morton's other books is that the person trying to figure out the mystery, a police detective named Sadie Sparrow, has no relation to the family whatsoever. She's just a cop, in turmoil from a recent case, who decides she has to find out what happened. Okay, but that wasn't the dealbreaker. What made me dislike The Lake House more and more was the plotting. The mystery goes that the baby of the Edevane family, Theo, went missing at the family's Midsummer party at their estate, Loeanneth; the case went cold and the house went abandoned. All we have is this incessant foreshadowing that one of Theo's sisters, Alice, might have had something to do with it. In a typical Morton novel, the chapters range from one time period to the next. All we seem to have in The Lake House is chapters that go back to the parents' meeting, or to the night or days leading up to Theo's disappearance. It just got so boring. There was no multi-faceted cast of characters, just the family whose baby brother went missing and some cop who becomes invested in the story. The Lake House did not remind me of the Kate Morton I fell in love with.
To compare, let's take my favorite, The Forgotten Garden. In that story, it follows a granddaughter trying to find out where her grandmother, Nell, came from after her death. Meanwhile, several chapters are written from Nell's perspective as she tries to discover where she came from decades prior when she was alive. We see two generations uncovering a mystery at different stages in life, meanwhile, a very interesting mystery developing itself through other characters in a different time period. The Lake House has none of that and seems like an unoriginal mystery in comparison. I also noticed a lot of similarities in character details from other previous Morton novels, which to me just seems recycled and tragically uncreative.
So, I didn't get through The Lake House. Maybe I'll return to it some day to find out what happened to that baby, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll just stare at the cover, which is very aesthetically pleasing, and pretend its pages hold a different mystery that is much better than the one that actually lies within. 2/5 stars.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
Book Reviews: 'It's Kind of a Funny Story' by Ned Vizzini and 'The BFG' by Roald Dahl
I can say that I enjoyed this book. It brings some great insight to adolescent mental health issues as well as shedding light on the pressure a lot of kids put on themselves to succeed in life, despite the fact that they're still trying to figure out what it means to succeed. I enjoyed the chapters where the main protagonist, Craig Gilner, spends time in a psychiatric ward and his interactions with the wacky yet lovable characters there, especially his relationship with Noelle, a girl his age. Yet, even though It's Kind of a Funny Story has several positive attributes to consider, there was just something about it that I didn't like that I still can't exactly put my finger on. Mental health issues are still a very sensitive subject, so bringing awareness to it can happen in many different ways, but Craig's narration bothered me a little. Maybe it was because I could see what he was doing to himself in the beginning and I wanted to yell at him to stop, or the fact that he thought smoking weed was a solution to his problems. I can definitely say Craig's "friends" were the absolute worst, especially Nia, who I'm still angry he gave the time of day to. I didn't like how these friends suddenly were realizing their own issues just because one of their own went to a hospital for help, but I suppose you could call that realistic. In any event, I think the main problem I have with It's Kind of a Funny Story, despite the fact that I enjoyed the majority of it, was the plotting. It's basically just told from beginning to end through Craig's retelling of it, which is also realistic, but it seems sloppy and tedious to read even though I know for sure it was not intended that way. I think if it was told in a more condensed, well-plotted way, it would be half as long (444 pages) and be more sophisticated in tone, if you will. But don't get me wrong, I really did enjoy the book. 4/5 stars. (It's also worth mentioning that I watched the film adaption, and it was plotted out much better, which I found much more enjoyable. But, at the end of the day, I do kind of appreciate how the story is told in the book.)
2. The BFG, by Roald Dahl:
This was a reread, but given the fact that it was the first time I've read it since elementary school, I'd take the opportunity to express my thoughts! The BFG was just as odd, zany and fun as I remembered. It features a series of insightful, unique, mystical characters who all bring something to the story. It's definitely something I'd recommend as a bedtime story to imaginative children, just as I was. I reread it so the story would be fresh in my mind as I went to see the film adaption, which came out a few weeks ago, and oh how I enjoyed it. It was such a great feeling to see a childhood favorite brought to life with such magic and effects, not to mention Disney magic. Steven Spielberg does an amazing job, as he is known to do. Love, love, love. A childhood without Roald Dahl seems empty to me, so please read it to your children or, better yet, buy his books for them and wait for them to discover the books themselves. 4/5 stars.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Why 'Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt' Should Be Considered Dark Comedy
Last month, I started watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, a sitcom created by Tina Fey that streams on Netflix (which I don't have, so thanks to the random website where I found the first season).
So given the fact that I don't have Netflix, this is my first Netflix series. I've listened to literally everyone on my social media timelines and my friends in real life gush about Orange is the New Black and how everyone should watch it and blah blah blah. Honestly, the premise of that show does not intrigue me at all, so I'll probably never watch it. But, I had been hearing some nice things about Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, which stars Ellie Kemper from Bridesmaids, The Office and Identity Thief and was created by Tina Fey, so I figured I'd give it a try.
The series is...different, to say the least. The premise is quite different, and a lot of the dialogue is very risque, both socially and culturally. Kemper plays the titular role, Kimmy Schmidt, who is rescued from a "doomsday cult" in Indiana, where she had been held captive in a bunker by a priest for the past 15 years. In other words, she was kidnapped 15 years ago and has been rescued, having been convinced that the world had ended and she and her bunker mates were the only survivors. If we throw away the doomsday cult weirdness for a second, what does this bring to mind? Off the top of my head, the Jaycee Lee Dugard story, or better yet, the Ariel Castro kidnappings in Cleveland. Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is essentially making light of something like being kidnapped and held captive for an extensive period of time. If you ask me, something like that should definitely not be funny. And yet, somehow, it is.
The series is quirky. It follows Kimmy as she chooses to move to New York City and start a new life, having only a seventh grade education and no experiences with the real world. She responds to a roommate ad from Titus Andromedon (Tituss Burgess), a flamboyantly gay black man who is an aspiring actor and singer. Their landlord is Lillian (Carol Kane), who is odd and zany as only Kane could play. Kimmy miraculously finds a job as a nanny for a rich white socialite, Jacqueline (Jane Krakowski), who is equally as funny and enjoyable. At first, she tells Jacqueline her name is Kimmy Smith, as the whole point of Kimmy moving to New York was for her to be seen no longer as a victim, but a person with a positive attitude. And that's what makes Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt work, in my opinion. But there are still some factors that need to be considered.
The series should definitely be in the dark comedy genre, but from what I can find, it's not. Like I said, making light and comedic zingers out of topics like kidnappings and rescues decades later, which we have seen happen in real life too many times along with the victims' painful memoirs, should not be funny, but it is. So that right there should make the series dark comedy. Among the scenes that stick out in my brain from the first season was when Kimmy was talking to a rich handsome man at a party of Jacqueline's and she said she needed to excuse herself to go use the "filth bucket... err, bathroom." That creates quite an image that shouldn't be funny, and yet again, it somehow is.
But from my research, the kidnapping and rescue premise didn't seem to catch critics' attention as much as Jacqueline's backstory. Early in the first season, it is revealed that Jacqueline is in fact not white by descent, she was raised on a Lakota Native American reserve in North Dakota, her real name is Jackie Lynn and she left her home and her parents to move to New York (where she would dye her hair blonde and pass for white) so she could have a chance at a better life. This, of course, can definitely be seen as racially insensitive as this has happened in the past; First Nations women dying their hair and changing their identity, so this tidbit in the storyline could definitely make them feel uncomfortable. Not to mention the fact that Jacqueline's backstory seemed to only be introduced for comedic effect, which also extends the insensitivity issue. Another racial issue the series brought about was a Vietnamese character named Dong, who Kimmy meets in her adult ed class. His character focuses heavily on racial stereotypes and brings to mind other racially insensitive characters in history, like Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany's or Long Duck Don in Sixteen Candles. It seems as though the world has risen above characters like these, yet Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt has now made one of their own again. Dong as well as Jacqueline's backstory have led several critics to declare that the series has a race problem, and after considering it, I think they might be onto something there.
But don't get me wrong, I like Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. I thoroughly enjoy the comedic one-liners and how the premise of a woman being rescued from a bunker in Indiana shouldn't work comedically and yet it does. I like how the series promotes being your own person, being endlessly positive when there are a thousand reasons not to be and how you shouldn't let life's crap hold you down. I also love the theme song. But my real issue with Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is not the dark comedy, nor the race issues. It's how this Netflix series, which is definitely not for everyone, has been garnering Primetime Emmy Award nominations. You heard me say it, I like the show, but I do not think it deserves Emmy consideration. Yes, the writing is on point and the cast really functions with it, but there are several other comedy series that deserve consideration before this one (Canadian sitcom Schitt's Creek if I may, but yeah I know I'm dreaming there). I continue to really not understand the barrier between streaming services and broadcast television: why is it that basically every series produced by a streaming service gets Emmy consideration? Why is it that more and more broadcast television series are being overlooked? Sure, you could argue that the streaming service series are just better, but I've seen bits and pieces of a few series produced by streaming services. They are out there. That is not to say that's a bad thing, but can we not just hand out Emmy nominations to every new show made by Netflix or Amazon? It's also worth mentioning that Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt was initially supposed to air on NBC but they dropped it last minute. Hmm, I wonder why; because they knew making light of kidnapping and other factors brought about would not fly on network TV. CBS pulled Jane Lynch's new sitcom Angel from Hell earlier this year after it received harsh criticism from Christian groups, could you imagine what other groups would do to this series? So yes, maybe streaming services give people more creative freedom beyond the restrictions of broadcast TV, but that is not to say that one is necessarily better than the other.
Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt has two seasons currently streaming on Netflix (or, if you're like me and don't have that luxury, you can browse the Internet for it).
So given the fact that I don't have Netflix, this is my first Netflix series. I've listened to literally everyone on my social media timelines and my friends in real life gush about Orange is the New Black and how everyone should watch it and blah blah blah. Honestly, the premise of that show does not intrigue me at all, so I'll probably never watch it. But, I had been hearing some nice things about Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, which stars Ellie Kemper from Bridesmaids, The Office and Identity Thief and was created by Tina Fey, so I figured I'd give it a try.
The series is...different, to say the least. The premise is quite different, and a lot of the dialogue is very risque, both socially and culturally. Kemper plays the titular role, Kimmy Schmidt, who is rescued from a "doomsday cult" in Indiana, where she had been held captive in a bunker by a priest for the past 15 years. In other words, she was kidnapped 15 years ago and has been rescued, having been convinced that the world had ended and she and her bunker mates were the only survivors. If we throw away the doomsday cult weirdness for a second, what does this bring to mind? Off the top of my head, the Jaycee Lee Dugard story, or better yet, the Ariel Castro kidnappings in Cleveland. Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is essentially making light of something like being kidnapped and held captive for an extensive period of time. If you ask me, something like that should definitely not be funny. And yet, somehow, it is.
The series is quirky. It follows Kimmy as she chooses to move to New York City and start a new life, having only a seventh grade education and no experiences with the real world. She responds to a roommate ad from Titus Andromedon (Tituss Burgess), a flamboyantly gay black man who is an aspiring actor and singer. Their landlord is Lillian (Carol Kane), who is odd and zany as only Kane could play. Kimmy miraculously finds a job as a nanny for a rich white socialite, Jacqueline (Jane Krakowski), who is equally as funny and enjoyable. At first, she tells Jacqueline her name is Kimmy Smith, as the whole point of Kimmy moving to New York was for her to be seen no longer as a victim, but a person with a positive attitude. And that's what makes Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt work, in my opinion. But there are still some factors that need to be considered.
The series should definitely be in the dark comedy genre, but from what I can find, it's not. Like I said, making light and comedic zingers out of topics like kidnappings and rescues decades later, which we have seen happen in real life too many times along with the victims' painful memoirs, should not be funny, but it is. So that right there should make the series dark comedy. Among the scenes that stick out in my brain from the first season was when Kimmy was talking to a rich handsome man at a party of Jacqueline's and she said she needed to excuse herself to go use the "filth bucket... err, bathroom." That creates quite an image that shouldn't be funny, and yet again, it somehow is.
But from my research, the kidnapping and rescue premise didn't seem to catch critics' attention as much as Jacqueline's backstory. Early in the first season, it is revealed that Jacqueline is in fact not white by descent, she was raised on a Lakota Native American reserve in North Dakota, her real name is Jackie Lynn and she left her home and her parents to move to New York (where she would dye her hair blonde and pass for white) so she could have a chance at a better life. This, of course, can definitely be seen as racially insensitive as this has happened in the past; First Nations women dying their hair and changing their identity, so this tidbit in the storyline could definitely make them feel uncomfortable. Not to mention the fact that Jacqueline's backstory seemed to only be introduced for comedic effect, which also extends the insensitivity issue. Another racial issue the series brought about was a Vietnamese character named Dong, who Kimmy meets in her adult ed class. His character focuses heavily on racial stereotypes and brings to mind other racially insensitive characters in history, like Mr. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany's or Long Duck Don in Sixteen Candles. It seems as though the world has risen above characters like these, yet Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt has now made one of their own again. Dong as well as Jacqueline's backstory have led several critics to declare that the series has a race problem, and after considering it, I think they might be onto something there.
But don't get me wrong, I like Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. I thoroughly enjoy the comedic one-liners and how the premise of a woman being rescued from a bunker in Indiana shouldn't work comedically and yet it does. I like how the series promotes being your own person, being endlessly positive when there are a thousand reasons not to be and how you shouldn't let life's crap hold you down. I also love the theme song. But my real issue with Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is not the dark comedy, nor the race issues. It's how this Netflix series, which is definitely not for everyone, has been garnering Primetime Emmy Award nominations. You heard me say it, I like the show, but I do not think it deserves Emmy consideration. Yes, the writing is on point and the cast really functions with it, but there are several other comedy series that deserve consideration before this one (Canadian sitcom Schitt's Creek if I may, but yeah I know I'm dreaming there). I continue to really not understand the barrier between streaming services and broadcast television: why is it that basically every series produced by a streaming service gets Emmy consideration? Why is it that more and more broadcast television series are being overlooked? Sure, you could argue that the streaming service series are just better, but I've seen bits and pieces of a few series produced by streaming services. They are out there. That is not to say that's a bad thing, but can we not just hand out Emmy nominations to every new show made by Netflix or Amazon? It's also worth mentioning that Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt was initially supposed to air on NBC but they dropped it last minute. Hmm, I wonder why; because they knew making light of kidnapping and other factors brought about would not fly on network TV. CBS pulled Jane Lynch's new sitcom Angel from Hell earlier this year after it received harsh criticism from Christian groups, could you imagine what other groups would do to this series? So yes, maybe streaming services give people more creative freedom beyond the restrictions of broadcast TV, but that is not to say that one is necessarily better than the other.
Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt has two seasons currently streaming on Netflix (or, if you're like me and don't have that luxury, you can browse the Internet for it).
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