To Say Nothing of the Dog

After so much time spent reading young adult novels, I felt it was time for me to branch out a bit and try a book that was actually written for normal people who aren't suffering from debilitating cases of teen angst and hormonal crises. I polled some friends, and was told that To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis was a fun book that somehow managed to blend Victorian literature with time travel. I was initially a bit put off by the length of the book (a whopping 493 pages) compared to the fluffy teen fiction I've gotten used to, but once I bit the bullet and dove in I was glad that there was so much book to enjoy.

The novel follow Ed Henry, a time traveling historian from the mid 21st century who has been drafted into an assinine project to rebuild Coventry Cathedral with painstaking accuracy. His particular mission is to track down a historical artifact from the Cathedral known as the Bishop's Bird Stump, a breathtakingly hideous vase that went missing during the German blitz. Too much time travel quickly causes Ned to come down with a bad case of time lag, one of the first symptoms of which is "a tendency towards maudlin sentimentality, like an Irishman in his cups or a Victorian poet cold sober." Due to his time lag he becomes confused and forgetful, and suddenly finds himself being sent back to Victorian England on a mission that he doesn't know a thing about. As might be expected, hilarity and confusion ensue as Ned tries his best to figure out his mission, while at the same time avoiding disrupting the space-time continuum and accidentally destroying the universe.

The book reads like a mashup of P.G. Wodehouse and Douglas Adams. It brilliantly captures the dry and restrained humor of Victorian satire, while weaving in just enough comic sci-fi to keep things fresh and interesting. The book doesn't look too hard at the mechanics of time travel, but it does play a lot with the unforseen consequences of small actions on larger historical events. To an extent this book is a comedy of errors, as Ned bumbles about England trying to accomplish his mission without offending Victorian sensibilities. The true humor and joy of the book, though, is in the characters themselves. Each character is a caricature of various literary stereotypes that are at once familiar and fun. Willis has such a strong mastery of her characterization, as well as of the generic conventions that she is parodying, that when her characters break with their traditional roles it is all the more surprising and delightful.

The writing flows well and is full of dry humor, apt litarary references, and enough wild speculation to keep any reader engaged and laughing throughout the novels considerable length. When I first heard of this book it was described as a novel that is perfect for Whovians (fans of Doctor Who) because it is a blend of Sci-Fi and history, with loads of British humor thrown in. I agree, but feel that this would apply to a much broader audience that the dear old Doctor. This is a book for anyone who loves literature, mystery, romance, or just wants to have a good laugh. Although the novel may not have engaged me much at an emotional level, the book completely delighted me from start to finish. It's probably the deepest book I've ever read that deserves to be called "light reading."

Score: 9/10
Read this book if: You like satire and parodies of either Sci-Fi or classic lit. Fans of P.G. Wodehouse, Douglas Adams, and Oscar Wilde will feel right at home. Also if you enjoy reading classic mystery novels or Victorian lit, and enjoy the occasional joke at the expense of the old literary masters.
Don't read this book if: You want a story that offers intense emotional engagement, will make you cry, or will change the way you look at the world. This is a great book, but it's just for fun.

Why We Broke Up

Why We Broke Up, by Daniel Handler (better known as Lemony Snickett) is a rather unusual but particularly interesting and delightful young adult novel about a relationship that is quite literally doomed from the start.

Basically the story is one big long letter written by the narrator, a girl named Min to her former boyfriend (and total tool) Ed. The letter supposedly accompanies a box wherein are housed a number of objects collected from the time the two were dating. In lieu of these objects the book is supplied with some very lovely illustrations of each, drawn by Maira Kalman. The presentation is unconventional and pleasing, and drew me into the story. Each chapter is accompanied by a relevant illustration, and the pictures essentially function as titles to the chapters.

The writing is quite good. I've read plenty of the Lemony Snickett books, and I can confidently say that this is nothing like them. In fact, I wouldn't have even guessed that the book was written by a British guy. It feels very American, and very young adult. It's clear that Handler has a really strong ability to adjust his writing for a particular audience and style, and I hope he continues publishing excellent stuff in several genres. The narrative style of the book is rather unconventional. It's epistolatory,  but one-sided. There's no actual exchange taking place. The narration is both first person and second person, which occasionally puts the reader in the role of the jerk ex-boyfriend. I rather liked that little trick, and I thought it was an effective way to engage the reader, and also to help the reader think about the issues complexly. I occasionally found myself trying to justify the actions of the ex-boyfriend, even though the guy was a major douche. I generally just love narrative trickery, though, so I enjoyed the style of the book.

I like that this book breaks with the general conventions of YA novels. Most YA books could be titled Why We Got Together, since they invariably involve love and romance at some level, and usually end when the two unlikely characters finally confess their love for each other! While this book has a bit of the same stuff, it only comprises a few chapters. Even these chapters aren't exactly gratifying, because the promise of a breakup looms over the entire book. This, in my opinion, is a very good thing. Too often YA lit seems to suggest that the solution to all of life's problems is a romantic relationship, or at least that once your problems are solved there will be some romance waiting for you. Anyone who is actually a human being realizes that this line of thinking is totally wrong. Life doesn't reward us with love at the end of every trial. In fact, often love itself is the trial. Handler approaches romance from this angle, and makes the inevitable breakup a moment of freedom, relief, and clarity. Why We Broke Up has joined Eleanor and Park as one of the only YA books that looks at romance realistically, making it a crucial addition to the body of YA lit. It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from Margaret Atwood: "Love blurs your vision; but after it recedes, you can see more clearly than ever. It's like the tide going out, revealing whatever's been thrown away and sunk: broken bottles, old gloves, rusting pop cans, nibbled fishbodies, bones. This is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes, not knowing the future."

My favorite element of the book was the friendship between Min and her best friend Al. Although it is a boy/girl relationship, there's no romance there. It's so refreshing to read about a healthy male/female friendship that doesn't end in a makeout session. In fact, I think this book has possibly the most accurate and moving depiction of true friendship of any book I've yet read. It reminded me of some of my closest friendships, and therefore really resonated with me. It was a fairly small part of the story, but was vitally important to the overall themes of the book.

A few other quick notes. The novel is chock full of film references, and will therefore likely appeal to film fans (Min dreams of being a director, and often looks at her life as if it were a film). However, the one catch is that all the films being referenced are completely fake. This isn't a problem, though. Once I quit opening my IMDB app every time a film was referenced, I just began enjoying the descriptions of all these "classic" films. I think it was a genius move using fake films, because Handler could describe anything, make it as relevant to the novel as necessary, and he never had to tick off any diehard fans of old cinema in the process by misrepresenting well-loved films. Although the films referenced are fictional, the descriptions are true to the feel of old movies, and any film buff should enjoy the read regardless of the erroneous nature of the cinematic allusions.

Overall I enjoyed this book. It's longer than most YA lit, feels a bit more grownup, is a bit less sappy, and contains a healthy blend of the real and the whimsical. It's definitely worth reading if you're into YA lit.

Score: 8/10
Read this book if: You like YA lit but are a bit sick of the standard fare.
Don't read this book if: You are looking for some really deep literature, or something really light and fluffy. This book is neither, which is part of what makes it so unique and lovely.

P.S. While uploading the cover illustration I noticed that little silver seal signifying a Printz Honor Book. That puts the novel in the esteemed company of novels such as Looking for Alaska, The Book Thief, and The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks. I certainly feel the award was well-deserved!

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist

I honestly don't think I've ever read a book that David Levithan has had a hand in and genuinely loved. it. I generally find them reasonably entertaining, perhaps a bit too moody, and altogether forgettable. You would think I'd have learned my lesson by now, and yet I persist in reading his stuff. Here we have another fine example from the team that gave us Dash and Lily's Book of Dares. This time Rachel Cohn wrote Norah, and David Levithan wrote Nick. As I should have expected the book was nothing special. It kept me engaged while I was reading it, and has now been relegated to a box in the corner of my mind where I tend to store memories associated with visits to the DMV.

Nick and Norah is about two super-moody teenagers who have both been through rough breakups recently and find themselves partaking in a contrived five-minute relationship of total convenience, which of course stretches way past five minutes. The point of view switches from Nick to Norah and back again with each successive chapter, and while it's initially interesting seeing both perspectives the effect ultimately led to a sense of seasickness. I constantly felt that I needed to find my bearings within the minds of the narrators, and as a result I had a tough time finding any lasting engagement with them.

The plot itself is fairly straightforward, though I won't say much for the sake of avoiding spoilers. It was all very conventional young adult romance stuff, though, and nothing revolutionary. There were a few moments of real depth, particularly associated with Norah's past and her efforts to overcome it. The supporting characters ultimately provided the most depth and sincerity within the story, and I rejoiced any time Nick's gay friends showed up. Nothing makes for a good time in a work of young adult lit quite like gay friends! Unfortunately the supporting characters are just that: supporting. Their presence isn't consistent enough to pull the book out of the moody haze in which it primarily exists.

The novel's level of writing is fine for the genre. It's nothing extraordinary, but it also isn't distracting. The words are simply there to allow the story to exist. The words do their job without any fuss, and don't draw attention to themselves. My biggest complain with the book, however, is in fact a matter of language. The narrators are extremely foul-mouthed, and it seemed inappropriate and out of place. In a book for adults, wherein adults are having actual adult problems, I'm fine with some coarse language. But when it's a book about a couple of teenagers who are just worried about high school drama and romance, I don't think such crudeness is justified. It's as if the authors wanted to lend a sense of gravitas, but weren't able to create a story to justify it. Therefore they just threw in a bunch of profanity whenever they felt that the book needed to seem more mature. It didn't work for me, and I found it to be in bad taste.

Nick and Norah is a decently pleasant novel to read, but isn't one that will change my life. It was fun while it lasted, but now that it's over I'm kind of glad to be done with it. I suppose in that sense it's the perfect book for young adults, because that's exactly how I felt about adolescence as well. I'll tell you one thing, I sure wouldn't want to experience it again!

Score: 6/10
Read this book if: You have nothing better to do, and just want to kill a few hours with a book that won't leave much of an impression once you're done with it.
Don't read this book if: You have access to anything better.

P.S. For those who have seen the film, the two works are totally different. I'm guessing that the person who wrote the screenplay read the back of the cover, thought it was a fun idea, and ran with it. I thought the film, like the book, was fun in a sort of vacant way, but the two have almost nothing in common in terms of either plot of characterization.