REVIEW: Airborn by Kenneth Oppel

Airborn

by Kenneth Oppel 

“Why do you need to fly so much?” she asked.
“If I don’t, it’ll catch up with me.” The words just came out.
“What will?”
I took my hands from my face, panting. I stared out at the storm.
“Unhappiness.” 

Matt Cruse is the cabin boy aboard the airship Aurora and he loves it. When his father died serving on the Aurora, Matt took his place. He feels more at home in the sky than on the ground, and he has earned the reputation of being lighter than air and a smart, capable crew member. When the Aurora rescues a dying old man in a battered hot air balloon who speaks of strange flying creatures, Matt is ensnared in an adventure. Together with the man's granddaughter, Kate, they must sail the skies, battle pirates, and save the ship, all while searching for the elusive creatures her grandfather saw.


This was a fun book! A rollicking high seas adventure, mixing Robert Louis Stevenson with a bit of Jules Verne. It reminded me a bit of the Leviathan trilogy, but lacked the depth of character and scope and detail that made that series so great. While Leviathan was a dirty, gritty, wartime story, the Aurora is a luxury liner. The story is a frivolous peace-time adventure. That is not to say the stakes are not high. Towards the end of the story, after much sneaking off to explore and outwitting authority figures, the danger becomes very real, and Oppel is not afraid to kill a few people to remind you how real it is.

The worldbuilding did feel a little sloppy to me. We had airships lifted by the new element, hyrium, with its own rules, and some exciting cryptozoology, but we don't learn much about the rest of the world. It appears to be simply a steampunk novel with airships and message tubes, with everything else simply Victorian. However, there are subtle name changes that make you wonder what kind of alternate universe we are in: Pacificus and Atlanticus oceans, Angleterre, instead of England.

The characters were a bit surfacey. Kate is the plucky, headstrong Victorian girl who wants to be a scientist and doesn't care if her recklessness causes problems for other people. Matt has the dark undercurrents of pride and jealously that were so successful with Victor in Oppel's His Dark Endeavor  but the flaws did not pay off as significantly in Airborn. He is simply your Everyman with emotional baggage and something to prove. I will say, though, that the captain of the ship, even though he was rather one dimensional, had an excellent management style!

I can picture how amazing this book would be if Oppel delved just a little more. The issues of jealousy between Matt and another crew member. The evil pirate captain and those he loves. Preservation versus public access in regards to a rare species of animal. Trying to rebel and prove yourself even though it endangers those around you. Loyalty to your home versus saving someone you care about. All of these could be mined for so much more emotional gold.

Yet, however superficial the adventures seems at times, everything, even the smallest detail, comes back in a big way, and will either pay off emotionally or  become a linchpin to the plot. It is fascinating to pick up on the clues as you go, or have the "Oh my God! The thing from before!" moment when one has slipped by you.

All in all, a nice, light, fun, easy adventure read for the summer.

Books Like This
Stardust by Neil Gaiman
Leviathan by Scott Westerfield
This Dark Endeavor by Kenneth Oppel

REVIEW: Goliath by Scott Westerfeld

Goliath

by Scott Westerfeld

"Reality had no gears, and you never knew what surprises would come spinning out its chaos." 

Surprised to see me again so soon? Me too! I read this book in 3 days!

Goliath is the thrilling conclusion of the Leviathan/Bohemoth/Goliath steampunk WWI series. Goliath finds our intrepid team of Prince Alek and Deryn/Dylan still on the Leviathan, off on a secret mission to Russia to rescue an eccentric scientist, Nicola Tesla, who claims to have a weapon that will end the war.

This book basically covers the rest of the world: Book 1: Europe, Book 2: Ottoman Empire: Book 3: Russia, Japan, Mexico and the USA. While each country adds their odd quirks and flavor to the Clanker and Darwinist technology, they didn't have the depth and texture of Book 2's Ottoman culture. Granted, they only leapfrogged to each country, and couldn't stay too long. We get a nice historical figure cameo parade, though; we meet Tesla, William Randolph Hearst, Pancho Villa, and a few minor figures here and there.

This book was a lot less epic in scope than I expected. Spoiler alert: the war does not end. In fact, America is only just joining the war as the curtains come down on the trilogy. But I realized it is not the story of the war, it is the story of Alec and Deryn and their relationship, and that story ended very satisfactorily.

Alek finally discovers that Deryn is a girl, and the shock and betrayal and sulking, and eventual awkward reconciliation, tension, and intimacy are incredibly emotionally rewarding. Deryn's struggle with her growing feelings for Alek is much more compelling than other books I have read recently (see my review of Hunger Games if I ever get around to finishing them), because she doesn't spend hours moping and then never resolve anything. She thinks about it, basically says "Well, that sucks" and moves on. Or she does something about it. Or she ignores it and does her job. She's one tough chick. Yet, Westerfeld allows her moments of incredible vulnerability in this book, and it makes her and Alek's relationship that much more special that she allows her veneer to slip a little when they are alone together.

Alek also has to come to terms with his "destiny." He feels he is meant to end the war, since his family started it.  He backs Tesla, even though the inventor is bat-shit crazy, because Tesla claims he can end the war with Goliath. When Alek discovers the purpose of Goliath, however, he is caught between ending the war quickly at the cost of innocent lives, or letting the war drag on, perhaps at the cost of more.

The story weaves together their struggle between their duty to the war/ stations in life, and to each other. While the plot itself is a bit thin, the emotional payoff is fantastic. The two have grown so much since we first met them in Leviathan, and it kinda makes you proud. Well done them.

Oh, and read this book just for the perspicacious lorises, the mystery beasties we were introduced to in the 2nd book. They have some of the best lines in the series. Trust me.

All in all, a solid, clever, quick YA read.

My reviews of the rest of the series:
Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld
Behemoth by Scott Westerfeld

REVIEW: Mechanique: A Tale of the Circus Tresaulti

Mechanique: A Tale of the Circus Tresaulti

by GeneValentine

"Ladies and gentlemen," she calls. Her voice fills the air. It feels as if the tent grows to accommodate the words, the circle of benches pushing out and out, the tinny Panadrome swelling to an orchestra, the light softening and curling around the shadows, until all at once you are perched on a tiny wooden seat above a vast and glorious stage. The woman's arms are still thrown wide, and you realize she has not paused, that her voice alone has changed the air, and when she goes on, "Welcome to the Circus Tresaulti!" you applaud like your life depends on it, without knowing why.

The Circus Tresaulti has been traveling for a long time, watching wars waged, regimes fall, and new corrupt ones rise. Sometimes they come across a town that seems familiar, but it is an old ruin, so it couldn't have been the town they visited before, could it?

The performers have been with the show for an age (or maybe a few). There are some who come and go like mayflies, but others choose to be augmented by the Boss, and they stay forever. The Boss gives them new hollow bones (the aerialists) or massive gears in their back (the strong man), or, only once, a set of singing wings. They are tied together tighter than family, tighter than blood. They know every gesture, every molecule of each other; they hate it, they love it, and they would die for it.

I must admit I started out not liking this book. It felt like faded footage of a circus: you got to observe, but never touch, never delve. The narrator was uninteresting. Then, about halfway through the book,  shit hits the fan, when the government man comes to the circus. Suddenly, secrets that you kind of knew, but didn't really, explode in your face, and there are dark revelatory flashbacks and loyalties are tested to the breaking point.

The book feels very post-modern, switching perspectives from first to third person, or maybe you are still in the head of the first person but he happens to know everything in retrospect? Its confusing for a while, and then you just stop caring and go along for the ride.

Valentine is the master of the subtle essential detail. She will drop a tiny sentence at the end of a scene that changes the game completely, though you may not know it until a few chapters later.

For a while, the performers seem a bit crazy, like bitchy Elena who may or may not have let someone fall from the trapeze on purpose, the beautiful Winged Man who may or may not have committed suicide, Stenos the acrobat who hates his partner to the point of obsessive devotion, Bird, the ex-soldier, who will do anything to have the wings. But as you marinate in their lives, you begin to see why this all emotionally, if not intellectually, makes sense.

The most compelling character is that of the Boss. She (yes, she), is the ringmaster, the creator of the circus, the mother of all. Her word is law, and in many scenes she seems invincible, but the revelations of her vulnerability are the most resonant parts of the book.

And it has a slam bang, guns blazing, last-stand, everyone you loved is here for you but may die for you kind of ending. Makes me cry every time.

Its not set in any time period, or in all time periods, so I wouldn't call it steampunk, though for moments it has that feel. At other times, it seems like an ageless, more sympathetic Mother Courage and her Children.

I was lucky! This was a book I picked off the shelf for its cover as the library was closing.

Read this if you liked:
Dream of Perpetual Motion

REVIEW: All Men of Genius by Lev AC Rosen

All Men of Genius
by Lev AC Rosen

"Furthermore, I don't recommend emulating the behavior of any of the characters contained within.

They're all quite mad.

The truth is, I have no idea what I'm talking about.

Except about love. We all know a little about that.

Or nothing at all."

- Author's Note

This book is a basically a steampunk mashup of Twelfth Night and The Importance of Being Earnest. Need I say more? Well, I will anyway.

Violet Adams is not your typical Victorian girl. She spends her spare time up to her elbows in grease and gears in her family's basement inventing wonderful things. She is serious and bullheaded, and frustrated that because she is a girl, she will never be recognized for her genius by her scientific peers. Her twin brother, Ashton, is the opposite: an easy-going poet and all around foppish cleverboots. 

She hatches a plan to dress as a boy so she can enter Illyria College, the best scientific school in the city. Along the way she makes friends and enemies (an excellently bitter and entitled Malcom Volio), falls in love, fights against an evil plot, is awesome and smart, and fights an incredible battle to win her place in the scientific community. 

I. LOVED. THIS. BOOK. It is crammed with characters and references to both Twelfth Night and Importance of Being Earnest, but it is not slavishly devoted to either story. You get themes, characters, delightful flavors, and sometimes direct quotes, but Rosen makes them his own. For example, Mariah from Twelfth Night is Miriam Issacs, a "Jewess" born in Persia, married and widowed in Paris, and then employed as governess to Cecily (Cecily/Olivia). Miriam's relationship with student Toby Belch warms my heart. Cecily is as naive and youthful as Cecily Cardew, and falls for Violet-dressed-as-a-boy a la Olivia. Violet herself (after a long struggle) falls for Earnest, Duke of Illyria. Another example: One of the Professors is named Bunburry, and he rather accident prone. 

Like Neverland, it is nicely crammed, and there is hardly any space between one reference, and another, but if you don't know either play, you can appreciate the book for its own merits. And if you do know both plays, you will not be ruined on the story. 

It sounds complicated, but it doesn't feel that way while you are reading it. Reading the book feels like surfing, where you ride the rhythms of each section, and switch to the next wave of text as it comes. It is easy and exciting, and flows really well. And then, like a video game, you collect the little gold coins of allusion as you ride. 

The 3rd person point of view slides just as easily. Each character, including all the minor ones, gets their moment (or more) of perspective. You get to look through the eyes of of the all main characters, of course, but then you have moments when you are in the brain of Lothario Prism, the aging professor, to get his unique perspective on the science faire set up at the Crystal Palace, or Fiona, the burlesque actress Violet hires to be her maid, and who ends up seducing Drew Pale (a still pitiful, but happier Andrew Aguecheek). 

I also loved Violet's character development. At the beginning she was brash and fearless because she was naive and young. As she matures, she hones those features into a genuine bravery and strength of character. She learns that femininity is not weakness, and she that she can be both a girl, and fully herself. 

The book is also chock full of imaginative, steampunky science, which for the most part I loved. However, biology class made me cringe a bit. The biology class's sole purpose is to experiment on animals. Rosen does have Jack Feste upset when he kills an animal in his experiment, but the idea of "improving" animals (giving ferrets bat wings, or switching animal's voice boxes), while it lead to comical outcomes, made me uncomfortable.

Other than that, this book was probably the best book I have read on a long time. It is not a heavy, weighty tome of genius, but it was clever, funny, engaging, exciting, and had wonderfully detailed characterization.

Books like this:
Leviathan, Behemoth and Goliath by Scott Westerfield

Unfinished Book: The Affinity Bridge

The Affinity Bridge

by George Mann

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am sorry to say this so early on in my blog, but I could not finish this book. I vowed to give it 100 pages before I gave up, and I did. However, I did learn a lot from reading it, especially about my own taste and style, so I thought I'd devote some time to it on the blog. 

The story takes place in steampunk Victorian London, where Sir Maurice Newberry (a paranormal investigator) and his new assistant Ms. Veronica Hobbes try to solve the mystery of the crashed airship and the glowing murderous bobby, while trying to avoid the zombie plague. This is a recipe for awesomeness, yes?

Alas, it does not fulfill its potential. First, the characters are incredibly flat. Sir Maurice is a good-natured, reserved middle-aged English gentlemen. He accepts a woman as his assistant and treats her as a (delicate and feminine) partner. He is extremely attentive to her. He has a problem with laudanum, which is probably his most interesting attribute. But there is absolutely no color or texture in his character, no unique voice.

Ms. Hobbes was even more disappointing. When I see boy/girl detective partners, I expect playful snarky banter. Maybe I've been spoiled on too many episodes of Castle, Warehouse 13...or really any other boy/ girl detective paring. I wanted it to be Emma Peel and John Steed. I got bland, restrained, grey, blah. For example, I have no idea why she was hired. Sir Maurice has complete confidence in her abilities, though all we saw her do in the first 100 pages was clean well, make tea, state the obvious (at which everyone gasps and sputters to hear such wisdom from a girl), and vomit at the sight of bodies. I would have loved to see some glimpse at the extraordinary, a reason why a woman would get that position, a reason why Sir. Maurice treats her like trusted friend only after a few days. They are quite touchy-feely too, and makes you think there are romantic flutterings, when that does not seem to be what the author intends. 

The style bothered me the most. It may be because I recognized a lot of my own flaws in his writing, but it got to the point where I got so annoyed by the frequent blunders, couldn't read any more. It was like being beaten to death with a swarm of cotton balls. 

1) Repetition: First, he repeats metaphors mere pages apart. For example, he describes a crashed airship as a beached, dead, half-rotted whale, and then a page away describes it as a dead ancient primordial beast (with the skin rotted in places, and the ribs exposed, etc). Second, he repeats information. For example, he mentions in a telegram to Newberry and Hobbes that 50 people were killed in the airship crash. When they are told the same information at the crash site, Ms. Hobbes gasps in surprise and horror. Third, he has a bad habit of describing the same action from two different POVs without adding anything new to it: He describes Ms. Hobbes pulling her cloak to her because she is thinking of the dead bodies from the airship, and a few lines later, he has Sir Maurice observe her pulling her cloak to her because he presumes she is thinking about the dead bodies from the airship. We know.

2) Word choice: "pucker up that resolve." Really? Not pluck? Pucker just sounds dirty. He also loves the phrase "reminiscent of..." when presenting a metaphor. And his metaphors often are not well-chosen either. He describes "an army" of men, which he clarifies a sentence later as "at least ten." Most of the time he sounds like a man with a limited vocabulary using a thesaurus. 

3) Violent Emotional Reactions: I believe this is not a character trait, but a style snaffoo. When Sir Maurice is introduced to a character, we get a description of that character, and a sudden declaration from Sir Maurice that he admires or loaths the character, without making it clear what was to admire or loathe.   He also has violent reactions to any opposition. When police or a clerk won't give him information -- they don't know who he is -- he gets very shocked and huffy, and waves his Crown credentials around, and then the peons go scurrying. It does not match with his fatherly academic demeanor, and makes the reader think he is a dick. 

4) Don't Tell Me, Show Me: My favorite writers are able to give you character by describing how a character picks up a pen. Alas, this book is Tell City. For example, there is a passage where the author illustrates Sir Maurice in his study. Mann tells about about the character's relationship with the room using cliches, his "haven" and "the one place he could relax, and feel free to become himself" (though I saw no difference between himself inside or outside the study). I would rather have seen his relationship with the study through the way Sir. Maurice interacted with it (entered it, threw things, flopped, argued with his housekeeper about keeping out, etc). Telling runs rampant throughout the book. 

5) "These do indeed 'seem' for they are actions that a man might play": Mann has a tricky POV. Sometimes he is in Sir Maurice's head, and other times he is in Veronica's head (not that it really makes any difference). However, sometimes he is in 3rd person omniscient, and still his characters "seem" or "look like" they are doing things. Why the hell can't they just do them? Whose eyes are we looking through that we are guessing? I do this all the time in my own writing, so I don't have to fully commit. COMMIT! It makes the writing stronger. Don't say "seem" unless there is some doubt about the action.  

I think George Mann desperately needed a good editor. 

Please take my review with a grain of salt, as I have not finished the book (and I feel it an extreme defect in  a mystery novel if I don't care what happens). Please, if anyone has finished the book, and feel that I have misrepresented something, let me know!

REVIEW: Behemoth by Scott Westerfield

Behemoth 

by Scott Westerfield

Ah, the exciting world of altered history, where Darwinists (the Allied powers who manipulate DNA to create animal-based machines) and the Clankers (the Central powers who are all iron, steam and electricity) vie for the world in a surprisingly accurate, but steampunk-colored WWI.

We return to this fantastic series to find our plucky heroes on their way to Constantinople (or Istanbul, depending on who you ask). Alex, the son of the murdered archduke (see WWI, causes) and his mustached German entourage are, as Andrew from Buffy the Vampire Slayer would put it, "guestages" (not quite hostages, but not really allowed to leave either) on the British airship, Leviathan. Deryn/Dylan is still disguised as a boy to serve in the Royal Air Service. They are accompanying Dr. Barlow (a very important and bossy female scientist) to the east to deliver a Top Secret beastie to the Sultan. The Sultan, however, is mad at England for "borrowing" a state of the art war beast (the titular Behemoth), and Germany is cozying up to the Turks with shiny battleships and Tesla cannons. It is time for Alex to seize his destiny and try to end the war his family started, while Deryn must be awesome and badass and do really cool things.

This second book of the series turns it up a notch. Westerfield has established his world and characters in the first book and now he just winds up his Clanker and Darwinist toys and sends them wirring all over turn-of-the-century Europe. The world of Constantinople is richer and more complex than the airfields of Britain or the Swiss Alps in Leviathan. It is textured and cosmopolitan, melding myth and science with Turkey's more spiritual slant on machinery. The Turkish government models their machines off of animals (elephant walkers, etc). Each culture within the great city of Istanbul has its own special name for their machine walkers: the Jews have metal Golems, the Greeks have Minotaur, the native Turks name them after goddesses. The Sultan has a Oz-like machine of himself in the throne room which mimics his movements, emphasizing his divine power. The reader's imagination just sparks with the layered and laberynthine city in which the characters play.

Our old friends from Leviathan have grown up a bit. Alex, the Austro-Hungarian princeling, has taken the backbone he earned in book one and used it as a jumping off point for his rather reckless plotting, spying and adventuring in this book. 

Deryn is still as badass as ever, using her brain and her guts to save her airshipmates in spectacular ways. Again, her "oh deary me, I am a girl wearing boys clothing" situation is nicely underplayed. It still follows the cross-dressing formula: Act I: girl meets boy and there is some attraction (though in book one, this was fulfilled in one understated sentence), Act II: enter second girl to vie for boys heart, and cross-dressed girl can't say anything (accomplished in two hushed intimate scenes). I assume, in Act III. she will reveal her cross-dress-edness and they will have lots of final-scene-of-Twelfth-Night-ity. However, unlike most cross-dressed heroines, she does not moon over the boy. She kicks ass, and only entertains the possibility of hormones when nothing else really crucial (saving a fellow airman from a burning jellyfish hot air balloon or singlehandedly rescuing a elephant walker from saboteurs) is going on. 

Dr. Barlow, the bossypants scientist woman is still an old ironsides, but has sparkling moments of humor and vulnerability. And the introduction of a new friend, a rather perspicacious beastie, is absolutely delightful! I can't wait to see how he grows.

An excellent step up from book one. I am excited for the series' climactic third book!

If you liked this book, you may like:

Leviathan by Scott Westerfireld

Terrier by Tamora Pierce

The Artemis Fowl Series by Eoin Colfer

All Men of Genius by Lev AC Rosen

ARCHIVED REVIEW: Leviathan (6/13/11)

Leviathan

by Scott Westerfeld

"Maybe this was how you stayed sane in wartime: a handful of noble deeds amid the chaos. "

I had fallen off the YA bandwagon for a while, and felt the genre was too simple for my taste. Leviathan has changed all of that!

The world is quivering on the brink of WWI. However, it is WWI with a Steampunk twist. The "Clanker" nations (read "Axis powers") have developed not tanks but walking war machines. They rely on metal and steam for their incredibly complex technology. The "Darwinist" countries, the allies (mostly England), have gone the opposite route. Darwin not only discovered natural selection, but DNA and how to manipulate it. British technology is entirely biological, using genetically modified animals, and built-in ecosystems to make their nation run. For example, their zeppelin-like Leviathan is actually a large sky whale with a hollow interior that produces its own hydrogen with the help of the bees and birds who give it its needed fuel every day. Hydrogen sniffers (dog/ spiders) run along its skin to make sure no leaks have sprung.

Enter our protagonists: Alex, a prince of Austria, who dreams of battle, and finds himself dragged out of bed one night, his parents murdered, and forced to run for a safe haven in the Swiss Alps. Deryn, a girl pretending to be a boy to join the British Air Service, finds herself on an important mission to escort a female scientist and her secret cargo to an unknown location. Of course, their story lines crash together and they must work together to survive.

This book was incredibly well-written. The world building alone is admirable and wonderfully creative. The world of the Clankers is easy to imagine, but the world of the Darwinists takes a bit of a stretch. Some might balk at the idea of genetic modification, but Alex and Deryn constantly argue which lifestyle is better, and you get to see both sides. The book also contains intricate illustrations, as even the best descriptions in the book do not fully capture the complexity of creatures like Huxleys (hot air balloon jellyfish creations).

The two main characters are also highly developed and have a clear journey throughout the book. Alex starts as a spoiled brat, but is forced into situations that make him mature with surprising strength and fiber. I was immensely impressed with how Westerfeld treated the character of Deryn. She has small moments where her disguise is mentioned and she has to struggle to hide her girlhood. However, most of the time he treats her as a human being, not a fish out of water. She is gutsy, brash, wry and impertinent. She is a skillful flyer from the get-go, and only improves. As to the inevitable romance looming in every YA book, it isn't mentioned until the end of the book, and even as a mere blip on the radar.

The one...flaw? I found was that it read as the first half of a book. It is the first of two books, but it felt cliffhanger-y, like the first part of a Doctor Who two-part episode. It has a small resolution, but I would have rather had one big book than two small ones. It was certainly not a large enough to put me off the book!

If you liked this book, you may like:

Dream of Perpetual Motion by Dexter Palmer

ARCHIVED REVIEW: The Dream of Perpetual Motion (8/9/10)

The Dream of Perpetual Motion

by Dexter Palmer

This was a very well-written book. It was very hard for me to get into at first because I had just gotten off the brutal, visceral and surgically precise style of Joe Abercrombie, so I had little patience for Palmer's dreamlike writing.

In this book, you often do not know who the narrator is. You think it's the main character, who says at the beginning that he is writing his journal, but then it switches to third person. It often goes back and forth in time, and uses the writings of other characters to augment the main character's point of view. Its one of those books where you know how it will end, and you read to figure out how it gets that way.

The story takes place at the turn of a century, at the beginning of an industrial revolution. It seems like a steampunk book, but you are never really sure what world you are in. All you know is that it is a world changing from an age of miracles to an age of machines, a metaphor for the transformation from childhood to adulthood, from wonder to apathy, that carries throughout the book.

The main character is Harold Winslow, whose made a choice early in life to have his destiny irrevocably tied to the famous and elusive inventor Prospero, and his secluded adopted daughter Miranda. At first, you think it is a retelling of the Tempest, but it turns out that Prospero chose his name and that of his daughter to mirror the characters in the play. He has tried to shape his life to emulate them.

At times the book is a bit disturbing, b/c the main character is very detached from life. Horrific things start happening, and they are made all the more horrific because we see them through the lens of someone who has no emotional response to them.

Recommended for those who like steampunk, Shakespeare, and books like The Book Thief (though I don't believe it is as good).

If you liked this book, you may like:

Fool by Christopher Moore

Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World by Haruki Murakami

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams