Review: The personal shopper (Carmen Reid)

The personal shopper is the first book in Carmen Reid's series about Annie Valentine, a single mum in London with two kids. Annie's a personal shopper, helping other people shop for a living, and it makes sense that with her fantastic discount she'll snag a couple of bargains for herself....

But unlike the heroine in the Shopaholic books (which I like and own), Annie's shopping isn't what lands her in a mess. It was surprising for me to read a book where the heroine is so mature and responsible, actually. Sure, she probably buys a bit (a lot) too much, and she has plenty of faults, but she works 24/7 to pay for her kids' private school; she's determined to give them the best of everything, and to me that's really admirable. Sure, she screws up, but she tries hard.

Let's be fair here. I don't like the writing style. For starters, I'm not a big fan of triple exclamation marks all over the place!!! I feel the words and quality of the writing should convey the emotion — not the exclamation points. Also, the writing style seemed obvious — it spelled things out that didn't need to be. I like when authors give me credit for a little intelligence.

It was pretty obvious who the hero would be, too, but I did like that he didn't tick all her superficial checkboxes. I liked that Mr Wrong wasn't evil in any way. He was an OK guy; he was just wrong for her. That seemed more realistic to me, instead of hauling in drama for the sake of drama.

I really liked Annie. She was down-to-earth, cheeky, loving and independent. I loved that independent streak — while she dreamed of having a man to provide for her, it's not what she'd actually choose: she'd rather be able to support herself. I didn't like her parenting, but I'm not a parent, so shouldn't judge.

The best thing about Annie was her honesty. She never lied, and she didn't put up with anyone else lying to her. Annie was beautifully honest and lovely with people; her London charm shone through the book and charmed me.

The book wasn't as funny as the Shopaholic series, and I didn't like Annie's fashion sense hugely, and it didn't make me feel like I was shopping, or make me want to go shopping, like the Shopaholic series does.

But The personal shopper was far more realistic. Everything felt completely believable, and I guess that's the subtle part of a writer's skill. If she can do that and make me love her characters — even the annoying ones — then despite annoyances like triple exclamation marks, I'm looking forward to buying and reading the next Annie Valentine book.

(And by Book 2 she might be down to single punctuation marks. I can but hope.)

Review: Play dirty (Sandra Brown)

I really wasn't sure what to expect from this book. While I don't normally read crime/thriller/mystery books, I couldn't put this down.

I wasn't sucked in by the book immediately, but pretty soon I was caught up in its world, mentally begging a character not to make a move that you know he's going to make, and gradually growing to like the "good" guys and really hate the "bad" guys.

I didn't entirely accept all of the story — the romance and the villain's motivations were somewhat unbelievable — but all in all, the book was well told, with details that brought it to life and made the characters seem believable.

And while I don't usually like secrets about the main character being kept from the reader, it worked very well in this instance. This is the first book I've read by Sandra Brown, but it's clear she's a talented author who knows exactly what she's doing, and she revealed the extra clues and final story perfectly, I thought.

And there were a couple of little twists in there that I liked.

Parental warning? Not really needed. Very little description of any violence, and while there are a couple of sex scenes, they are (except for the last one) actually necessary to the story's development. Just trust me on this one.

In fact, read the book. You'll see what I mean.

Review: What my mother doesn't know (Sonya Sones)

So I thought about writing this review in verse, but... I couldn't even get past the first two lines, so wisely decided against it.

What my mother doesn't know by Sonya Sones is a YA book written entirely in verse, so I really wasn't sure what to expect from it. But it's good: light, but nice. I read it in just over an hour, I think.

Since it's written all in poem form, it has lots of cute quotables.

On having a crush on a guy she's chatting to online: If I could marry a font / I'd marry his.

On being in love in high school:

I wish I could drink a magic potion and
shrink way down till I was small
enough to fit right into his
shirt pocket and live
there tucked near to
his heart listening
to it beating in
rhythm with
mine every
minute of
every
day

And sometimes a few words can contain heartbreak in them, as you realise your perfect relationship's dying: Way back in the beginning of September / when I wasn't even sure yet / if he liked me, / I used to imagine what I'd do / if Dylan told me he loved me. / In my fantasy I'd just throw back my head / with a triumphant sexy laugh, / and then / he'd rake his fingers through my hair / and kiss me hard on the mouth. / But tonight / when he finally said the magic words, / I didn't laugh and he didn't kiss me. / He just peered at me with this worried look / and I suddenly felt like crying.

Because it's all in verse, it's all read very quickly; but you skip over the meaningless stuff, you cut to the real parts of life as a teen, the arguments at home, having fun with your best friends, your crushes, your fantasies, that dress your mum made you wear....

It's like reading snapshots of a person's life, and they can be silly and trivial and funny or deep and sad or anything in between.

I won this from Natalie at This Purple Crayon in her "Unsung YA" giveaway, and to be honest I had some doubts about whether it would be any good.

But it was.

Yes, it's quick to read; it gives the feeling of being a "light" read, because you get through it all so quickly. But it's still deep, and still emotional. It's a very different book — in a good way.

Girls like funny boys (Dave Franklin)

I didn't even want to finish this book. Johnny starts the book as an immature, sex-obsessed guy - but he is a teenager, so his character didn't worry me too much. The descriptions of his sexual fantasies, exploits and so on, seemed utterly unnecessary to me - reading it felt awkward, like I was reading an adult author's fantasies on paper rather than scenes in an imaginary character's life.

The book moves on past Johnny's awkward youth, and the rest of the book is honestly a lot better.

Johnny becomes an even more dislikeable person, though. While he was young, his self-centredness and awkwardness seemed plausible; once he was a man verging on his forties, I found Johnny's cowardice contemptible - any sympathy I had for the teenage Johnny's issues immediately disappeared, especially when the nearly-forty-year-old man starts fantasising, again, about 17-year-olds. But it's a lot less cool when the character isn't 17 himself any more.

As a woman in her mid-twenties, I'm probably the wrong demographic for this book. It disgusted me instead of intriguing me, and I got bored where I was probably meant to feel suspense. I'm not sure what the right demographic would be - possibly a single man who has wasted his life to date and wants to read about a peer.

I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone, though. The main character is utterly unlikeable, and the book was wholly depressing.

*Disclaimer: I received this copy for review via Good Reads, so if I seem too overtly positive about this book, that'll be why.

Review: Wildwood dancing (Juliet Marillier)

Whoa, found this mini-review I wrote back on 10th October... not sure why I never published it, but here it is now, anyway!

Loved this book. I think this is Juliet Marillier's first Young Adult book, so I wasn't sure I'd like it, at first. I was even less sure when I found out the characters live in Transylvania, in a place called Piscul Dracului. (I'm so sick of vampires.)

But I loved this book. Juliet Marillier is already my favourite author, but I noticed some differences between this YA book and her adult books: it's much shorter, for one. I wanted the book to last longer, just because I was enjoying the characters so much. The romance is very sweet, as well, even if it's not exactly difficult to guess who the heroine ends up with, and even if the hero was a tad passive for my taste.

It isn't my favourite Juliet Marillier book; but I really enjoyed both the plot and the characters, and as I say — my main problem was that it ended too soon.

I'd recommend this book to any YA readers, as well as any women just looking for a good read.

...And then move on to everything else Juliet Marillier has written.

Review: The ice child (Elizabeth McGregor)

Jo Harper, a successful young journalist, has only her adored two-year-old son, Sam, to remind her of her late partner. When Sam falls ill, there is only one silm hope — that his half-brother may hold the key to his survival. But his half-brother has disappeared...[having] set out alone against impossible odds...to uncover the last traces of the Franklin expedition, which vanished in the Arctic in 1847 while searching for the North-west Passage.

Thus reads the blurb of The ice child, plus a little bit that I haven't printed here as I think it spoils the plot too much. Honestly, even the above blurb spoils the plot, because for the first half of the book Jo doesn't have a late partner, let alone a two-year-old son.

I found the narrative style of this book unusual, as it follows three main plot arcs. There's a mother polar bear with her cub; a based-on-the-true-story Franklin expedition (which I found incredibly sad because you're told, before you even get introduced to the characters, that they all die); and Jo Harper, main character and mother-to-be of dying child.

I didn't like the book initially, which becomes, at times, bogged down in details to the point of boring me; I skim-read a fair few sections at the beginning.

Author Elizabeth McGregor's casual narrative approach to timelines completely confused me at times. On one page, we're told that Jo enjoys her garden; then we're taken back to when her son was born; then we're shown her cutting grass at eight months pregnant; and in the next sentence the author describes a scene where Jo sits with her son in her arms. Seriously, what? There was no transition at all between any of the timeline-hopping; I had to re-read that page twice.

But after the first half of the novel, I became a lot more drawn in. I found the part showing the Franklin expedition both fascinating and thoroughly depressing. I wasn't enthralled with all of the characters, and found some (modern-day) characters' behaviours to be utterly unlikely; but the Franklin expedition was much more moving, much sadder, much more heroic and human and ultimately futile.

That isn't to say that the modern-day story wasn't touching; it was, and I couldn't put the book down towards the end for wanting to know whether the little boy survived (it's not the kind of book that guarantees any happy endings); but since the Franklin storyline showed real characters and what happened to them (to some degree), I found it so much more moving.

I can't say I enjoyed this book, in the end. Not because it was bad; because I just found it all so depressing. I think the depression was intensified by having three (or, at the end, four) interwoven storylines, none of which showed any sign of having a happy ending.

All in all, while it was difficult to get into, I'm glad I read this book. The author's note at the end added some more interesting details about the Franklin expedition, and highlighted some of the true and some of the fictional elements of her plot; and while I found the modern-day story less realistic, both storylines were still absorbing. But don't read this book if you're having a bad day; I don't think it'll help.

Review: Ice (Sarah Beth Durst)

I was really looking forward to this book, but it was a big disappointment.

I wondered afterwards if I would have liked the book more if I hadn't had such high expectations: but regardless of my expectations, I think I'd have been disappointed.

The plot promised on the back of the book, which sounded so interesting to me, isn't quite accurate.

When Cassie was little, her grandmother told her stories about the Arctic... about frost and snow, and a beautiful castle made of ice, and about her mother, who made a deal with the Polar Bear King. But Cassie is older now and has no time for fairytales and talking animals, or lies about her dead mother.

But when Cassie comes face to face with a mysterious polar bear, one that defies all scientific fact or knowledge, she begins to realise that the fairytales could actually be true. Discovering that her mother might still be alive, Cassie makes her own deal with the Polar Bear King, embarking on a dangerous journey to save her. But the deal comes with consequences she never bargained for, and before her journey's end, Cassie will discover the true meaning of family, and of loss and love.

Fact: Cassie doesn't embark on a journey, dangerous or otherwise, to save her mother. She makes a deal with the Polar Bear King to save her mother, but does nothing other than that. She embarks on a journey, sure, but it has nothing to do with her mother.

I felt no affection for the hero of this piece: he seemed stupid, irresponsible and presumptive, and the romance part of the story was actually very boring. I felt a little more affection for Cassie, but I didn't understand how she could be so content and passive, in the first part of the book. Also boring.

Durst can write. I follow and enjoy her blog, and I definitely enjoy her retold fairytales on her blog. But I really think here that part of the problem was her plot; as per below, it was too problematic to work properly as a romance.

I think the most irritating thing for me, though, was that the solution to the characters' core problem was so obvious. Not to the reader — to the characters. I don't know how the only character to figure it out was Cassie.

I feel sad writing this about the book. I really wanted to enjoy it; I liked the fairytale it was based on. Durst seems like a really nice person, and I've heard of many positive reviews of the book. And I certainly didn't hate it; it wasn't terrible. Maybe I'm too old for the teen audience it's aimed at, because to me it was just... OK.

SPOILER SECTION

While still trying not to spoil too much of the book, if you know the polar bear king fairytale before you read this book (which I did), then this won't be much of a spoiler anyway. But I think Durst's main problem here was with her plot, which meant Cassie had to be in love with the Polar Bear King before she could go off to rescue him. This meant that her falling in love with him had to be done quite quickly, page-wise; which meant that I, the reader, never fell in love with him. I think it's important, in a romance, for your reader fall in love with your hero (not for themselves, but on the heroine's behalf); otherwise the reader won't feel any empathy for their situation, won't root for the heroine to fight through and win.

Well, I found the hero irritating and didn't understand the heroine's love for him; and I didn't feel any empathy for their quandary at all.

Other reviews: Ink and Paper review, the epic rat, Angieville

Review: The curious case of Benjamin Button

This review's short, because the book is.

I was disappointed in The curious case of Benjamin Button. It's extremely short - about 40 pages - and while the premise is interesting, the book's so vague that I couldn't really get into it or care about the characters at all. There are very few actual scenes in the book (conversations, etc); most of it is just the narrator describing a period of Benjamin's life, and all of the characters — Benjamin's father, his son, and Benjamin himself — come off looking pretty callous.

It's still a sad story, though, since it's almost impossible to have any normal relationship with your body (and mind) growing younger and sillier.

But I am disappointed, because the premise (person is born as old man and gets younger with time), I think, really is interesting.

But the book? Not so.

Sorry: due to repeated spam comments, I've disabled commenting on this post.

The Amber Spyglass (Philip Pullman)

Things heat up as angels, witches, armoured bears and cliff-ghasts come together for a final fight — or, in the cliff-ghasts' case, to feast on whatever bodies are left over from the final fight. Will and Lyra star again.

To start with my one disappointment: there were a few parts which seemed really slow to me: council meetings which didn't illustrate much; political comments from minor figures. I wanted to get to the action!

Both this book and The subtle knife move between characters quite a lot; you see Lyra, and then just when it gets really exciting it changes to see what Will is doing, and then it skips to Dr Mary "Tempter" Malone in a world of diamond-framed animals on seedpod wheels.

OK, I thought the seedpod-wheeled animals were awesome. I want to see them in the movie. But still. Very effective technique on the part of Mr Pullman; but damn, I could not read that book fast enough.

Couple of quibbles again: I found that Dr Malone acted younger than she was: some of her dialogue didn't quite "mesh" for me. But it is a young adult book, so the language probably worked better for the target audience.

Also, a couple of loose ends weren't really explained for me. We're introduced to the soul-eating Spectres in Book Two; but for some reason, two characters in Book Three wander around happily without ever being affected by the Spectres. Why? We're never told.

This trilogy really reminded me of what some people said when I told them my theory about the Christian God. Our theories are virtually identical, which irritates me. I'd started to write a story incorporating my theory (similar to how Pullman did it, only from Lucifer's point of view instead of from humans' point of view) and now it'll all seem like plagiarism. So there goes that brilliant idea!

Maybe it just goes to show that great minds think alike.

The subtle knife (Philip Pullman)

Will, a young boy living in our own world, has just murdered a man, and now he's on the run... into another world, where he meets Lyra, and finds out about his own impossible-sounding destiny.

This is where the story really starts turning the heat up. We're introduced to Will, who hails from our world. But one warning: This is not a standalone book, like Book One is. Don't even start reading Book Two if you don't have Book Three by your side, waiting for you to pick up breathlessly the minute you finish The subtle knife.

Unlike a lot of trilogies, I don't feel the second book here really lets down the first one. The stakes are still high (although not quite as personal, overall); it's still fast-paced and packed with action; and while Will is a great new character, it's good that Lyra's still the other main character.

Again, this is a very good book, and I'd recommend it — after reading Book One. Pullman seems to assume everyone will have already read the previous book; so if you don't read Book One first, you might be pretty lost as there are constant references to it.

OK, I know this isn't exactly a long review, but honestly: this is more Part One of Book Three than a standalone book. Next week: My (much longer) review of Book Three!

Northern Lights (Philip Pullman)

A young girl, Lyra, sets out on a dangerous quest in a world parallel to our own, to rescue her friend from terrors unknown.

Northern Lights took me a few pages to really get into. I wasn't immediately gripped by the action; Lyra, the heroine, seemed childish and silly; and the opening scene seemed melodramatic and unrealistic.

But after the first few pages, I was hooked. Lyra is cocky, smart and likeable; and I loved the action between her and her "daemon" (an external soul in animal shape).

Although that's one thing that annoys me a little bit. What's wrong with good old-fashioned "demon" spelling? A daemon isn't the same as a demon, you say? True enough. Then later in the series you find out about "vampyres". What's wrong with spelling it the normal way? Geez.

Another thing that annoys me? The British version (which I made sure I got) is called Northern lights; the American version is called the (apparently) much more exciting The golden compass.

OK, I agree that the so-called compass is more prominent in the book than the northern lights, even if the northern lights are really what the book is all about. But. It is not a compass. It looks like a compass. It is not one. It is an alethiometer. And, OK, that may look like a hard word before you try to say it, but seriously — just repeat after me. Ah-lee-thee-oh-meh-ter. It's barely more complex than "thermometer".

Not that I'm suggesting they should have called it "The golden alethiometer" because, well, that'd be silly. But if you're going to change a perfectly good British title, at least change it to something that accurately reflects an aspect of the book. Even "The armoured bear" would have been better than The golden compass.

Moving on. Apart from minor quibbles*, I really enjoyed this book, and looked forward immensely to the second in the trilogy.

*Such as the heroine becoming attached really fast to the armoured bear and the aeronaut, and vice versa — they only hung out for a few days! I've done the same thing myself, in my writing; you spend so much time writing the story that it feels to me, the writer, as if my characters are much closer than they actually are. But to the reader, they've only had a couple of fighting scenes together so why does Mr Aeronaut suddenly feel she's the daughter he never had?

Next week: My review of Book Two in the trilogy.

Review: Silver Phoenix (Cindy Pon)

What's this, you say? Didn't Ruth do a post on this same book a few weeks ago? Why yes, yes she did. But writing a sub-par book review annoys her about as much as talking about herself in the third person.

So that's quite enough of both, and I'd like to comment more properly on Silver Phoenix.

In a lot of ways I found this book a very interesting read, as I could identify my own writing to some extent with the book's writing, and as I read it I mentally started making minor adjustments to the writing style. I think that's what makes it so difficult for me to review this book — because I keep thinking of it as a writer rather than a reader.

I enjoyed this book. I didn't get right into the first chapter or two, but once I was in I was in! Sometimes it can be difficult to identify or even like the heroine or hero, especially if it's written by someone with little writing experience. No such problem here: I fell right in with the heroine, even if I have to admit to preferring the hero's sidekick to the actual hero.

Silver Phoenix follows Ai Ling, a girl living in traditional ancient China, who goes on a quest to rescue her captive father. Along the way she has to fight demons upon demons, learn to control minds, and meet goddesses, a race of three-eyed men, and the odd poison-spitting fish or two.

The background of China was well set up, and nothing about it jarred — other than Ai Ling's willingness to buck tradition after only a cursory attempt to conform. I think a girl raised in those traditions would have been much more docile — but that girl wouldn't have been nearly as interesting a character as Ai Ling.

Toward the middle of the novel, although I wasn't tempted to put the book down, it seemed to slow a little to me; things were happening that didn't seem relevant or necessary to the plot. But that was quickly passed over, and we headed into the final action scenes, complete with a good build-up of tension.

I found the climax somewhat... anti-climactic.

But I really want to find out what happens to the main characters next. For a lot of books — for example, John Grisham books — once I've finished them and found out how the plot ends, I don't care about the characters any more. My favourite authors — such as Juliet Marillier — make me care about the characters enough that I want to keep reading on for the characters' sakes. Not because the plot is unresolved, but because I just want to keep reading about the character.

Although author Cindy Pon does leave some plot points unresolved, the cunning witch! That is, the plot is neatly tied up; but the characters still have journeys to take, issues to try and straighten out for themselves; and I loved the fact that the ending wasn't textbook.

The ending, in fact, perfectly paved the way for the combined sequel/prequel she's writing (a difficult feat!): a book I can't wait to order.

Silver Phoenix (Cindy Pon)

A friend asked me yesterday for my opinion of debut author Cindy Pon's The Silver Phoenix, which she got me for my birthday this year.

"Is it very... debutey?" she asked with a laugh.

Honestly? It was a bit. It had a good story, with good knowledge of the period (so far as my layman's knowledge goes) and thoughtful plotting. But it was... debutey.

I read the first four scenes one day, very much with a critical writer's eye; I didn't like two of the scenes and thought they could have been summed up later on in the story. The first few scenes seemed disjointed to me; I put the book aside for a few days.

I picked it up again one Sunday, read a bit more... and kept reading till I finished it, that same day.

It's certainly interesting; it makes you keep wanting to read on, to find out what happens next. The ending surprised me, in a good way; it wasn't the predictable happily-ever-after.

Reading it with my critical writer's eye, I did notice some technical issues that I would have wanted to change. One example: As the heroine goes on her quest, she passes through various lands of weird and wonderful creatures. Interesting? Sure. Important to the plot? Not that I could see.

Yet when I put down the book, I realised I wanted to read on. I wanted to know what happened to the characters next; I wanted to follow them in their next adventures. I was fond enough of the three main characters that when something awful happens to one of them, I was upset.

To me, that's the sign of a good book. I've studied "well-written" books at university that are chock-full of symbolism and themes and so on; and I enjoy those books. But for leisure I prefer light escapist reading, with characters I can care about and a story I want to read on about.

I also think the author is really sweet, both from her blog and from the fact that she was nice enough to send me a signed bookplate and bookmark with her art on it. It may be an inexpensive gesture, but it's a really nice one.

And regardless of bookplates and bookmarks, I'll certainly be buying the sequel to Silver Phoenix as soon as it's been released.

Nineteen Eighty-Four (George Orwell)

I hated Nineteen Eighty-Four.

It was fascinating; it was dense. I skipped entire pages of text that rambled on about the new philosophy behind the state; I read and re-read the appendix where Orwell expounds (at great length) on the post-English language spoken in his world.

Nineteen Eighty-Four shows a new, totalitarian world taken over by a regime. Everything is monitored. There is a new religion. The thought-police are watching you everywhere. You don't know who you can trust; everyone could be a spy. And the penalty isn't death.

The book explores this world, explores families and relationships and work in a world where everyone is under suspicion and, ultimately, your enemy.

This book explores physical and psychological torture, and it's horrific.

This book explores how you can really betray the only person you love.

This book explores the worst fate you can suffer. Not death, and not torture, but the loss of self. The loss of who you are, of what you believe.

A rebel's death is meaningless, but a rebel's conversion is everything.

I found this book horrible to read. I couldn't put it down. I waited for the happy ending; I couldn't understand how it could have a happy ending.

It made me think about a lot of things. It gave me new story ideas; it gave me a concept behind the government in my current WIP.

Have I spoiled the story? I'm not sure. It's too complex to wholly spoil. Would I recommend it? I'm not sure. It's a classic, and for a good reason.

But I hated that book.

The memory-keeper's daughter (Kim Edwards)

I liked that this book never made me cry, never made me want to cry, especially since the last book I read was The time traveler's wife.

One thing I enjoyed about this book was the entire absence of gratuitous sex scenes. Sex scenes just get old, and they're often not really relevant; in The time traveler's wife there were so many sex scenes, all over the place, I got entirely sick of the whole thing.

But The memory-keeper's daughter was a good book, which kept me reading and wanting to find out what happened next. It was too long — I got pretty annoyed because, as in so many sitcoms, the only real tension was miscommunication, which could have been solved so easily by one quick sentence: "By the way, our daughter never died — she had Down syndrome and I gave her to our nurse who's raising her as her own daughter." Okay, maybe not an easy sentence to say; but a book where the main tension revolves around one easily-resolved lie gets pretty frustrating.

The storyline of the nurse and Phoebe (the girl with Down syndrome) was much more interesting, and I wished the author had gone into it a bit more. Phoebe was born in the late 1960s in the States, a time when Down syndrome children were called "mongoloid"; were excluded from public schools and thought better off dead. The nurse had to fight to get Phoebe a place in the schools; it's a fight I wish the author had delved more into, since it was a historical fight, something that really happened.

I have very limited experience of Down syndrome children myself, but I hadn't realised how capable they can be. I guess there's still a lot of prejudice against them, and of course ignorance breeds prejudice.

According to wikipedia, about 92% of pregnancies in the States, where Down syndrome is discovered, are terminated. That's an awful statistic.

An interesting read, and one that interested me more in the development and discussion of Down syndrome, the potential capabilities and the historical attitude against Down's children, than in the plot itself. But I did enjoy the plot, even if the characters were all a little angsty for my taste; not precisely a light-hearted read, but a thought-provoking one, and thankfully not a tear-jerker.

Bruchko (Bruce Olson)

They say not to judge a book by its cover, and maybe it's a mistake to judge it by its genre, either. I was so little enthused about reading Bruchko that I almost put it on TradeMe instead; but decided to give it a go first.

Bruchko is the autobiography of Bruce Olson, a missionary who went to South America to convert the Molitone Indians. I generally steer clear of Christian literature, which tends to be full of far too many nauseauting descriptions of the love and peace of our Lord God Almighty amen.

Bruchko had a few of those scenes; but they're easily skipped over, and the book was still really interesting. He also initially went to Venezuela, which was an extra facet of interest to me with the story I'm writing.

The good thing about Olson was that he didn't try to "Westernise" the Molitones; he didn't even object to the witch doctor, which I know many missionaries tend to strongly dislike, as witch doctors often pray to demons. Instead, Olson (or "Bruchko") works with the witch doctor to help her, far more effective than running against the current culture.

This isn't a sentimental account: Olson is open about the bad as well as the good in Molitone culture; and there's tragedy here too, as he shows life as it is. He starts his story by showing how his conversion alienated his family; he ends by showing how the Molitones' conversion caused death.

The account of his family life seemed pretty one-sided, casting his family in an unloveable light — I'm sure their side of the story would have been completely different, probably with Olson as a self-righteous little brat.

But all in all, this book was interesting throughout, and held my interest. It's a pretty short book, and took me maybe a couple of hours to read. But I'm glad I didn't flick it off on TradeMe after all.

Tess of the d'Urbervilles (Thomas Hardy)

Well, I've just finished another terrible, well-written book. Tess of the D'Urbervilles is not as disturbing as Atonement (nor quite as well-written, in my opinion), but it's still got a dark, perverted plot. Sorry, Jo, I know you love it. But seriously. Plot summary:

Chick is taken advantage of (not quite raped, but not in a state where she could necessarily consent) by Loserguy, back in the days when premarital sex was a major no-no. Chick has baby, which dies. Loserguy has abandoned chick and doesn't know of baby's existence.

Chick meets Mr Right, they get married; and on the wedding night she confesses that she slept with Loserguy. Mr Right is so upset he takes off, and chick meets Loserguy again. Loserguy decides she's hot again (and feels stink for ruining her life), so convinces her that Mr Right is never coming back.

Chick moves in with Loserguy, at which point Mr Right returns but, finding out that she lives with Loserguy, leaves again. Chick is gutted, kills Loserguy so that Mr Right will come back, has a happy week with Mr Right and then is arrested and executed for murder of Loserguy. Mr Right then marries chick's little sister.

Seriously. Does that sound like a nice book to you? I'm not saying books have to be happy-happy lovey-dovey, but I don't know why so many of these classics can't be less perverted, less dark, less morbidly unhappy throughout. Wuthering Heights wasn't really perverted, but happy is not an adjective that anyone could apply to it. Next on the reading list: Heart of Darkness by Conrad....

Atonement (Ian McEwan)

I've been reading Atonement by Ian McEwan. It's well-written, it's evocative and provocative, it explores unseen depths — but the plot sickens me. If I wanted to read a book about a child being molested and some innocent guy falsely accused of it, I would... no, I would never want to read a book like that.

It sickens me. I'm about halfway through the book now, and I had to put it down and go away. The worst thing is that I'm reading it for Massey — if I'd started this book for leisure, I would probably "have" to finish it just to find out what happened, but I don't think I'd have read more than the first chapter of it if I wasn't required to.

If I'd read this book coming straight out of high school, I would have been shocked and much more sickened than I am now, even if I hadn't understand all the nuances. Even now, halfway through, it hasn't explicitly been said that this guy was raping this child, or who this guy was; but it's completely clear. It's a well-written book.

It's called Atonement because the child who reports the rape and accuses Mr Innocent has to spend the rest of her life atoning for her mistake, or some such thing. I've probably ruined the plot for anyone who hasn't read the book; but I'd recommend you not to read it anyway, so I'm unrepentant for plot-spoiling.

I think it's false, sort of, that the child should be the one atoning for her mistake made in all innocence and ignorance; it should be the guy who actually does commit the rape, that atones for it. I'm not sure what happens there yet, since as I say, I'm only halfway through it — the rape's only just been committed, and reported.