The Passage, by Justin Cronin: Don't judge a book by its cheap lookin' dress (or try to make vampires; bad idea.)

The Passage

Justin Cronin
New York: Ballatine Books, 2010

ISBN: 9780345516862

Oh hey, girls and boys.  Let’s talk about The Passage, shall we?

I’ll be the first to admit that I wrote it off at first glance.  I was convinced it was some tricksy Hay-Zeus agenda book, masquerading in a mass-market paperback dress.  There’s no shame in being a cover judger!  That’s also not to say I’m 100% certain there isn’t some secret to-be-revealed agenda of a fictional religious sense, because at a short 800+ pages and a cliffhanger, this OBVI needed to be the first in a trilogy.   Persnickity snark aside, there is enough other stuff going on that moved this book from the supermarket checkout line in my mind and into an an esteemed position on my summer reading list (for the win!).

A recommendation from J.Hawesome, who knows what I like (I blame her for Outlander) and reads what I tell her (J - you’re welcome for Twilight), this is not a mere vampire novel.  It is part dystopian exploration of an decimated United States now afraid of the dark, part ethically and morally questionable scifi experiment gone horribly wrong, and yes, part beach book thriller.  My friends, I am no slow reader.  This book, no exaggeration, took me fooooreeever to read.  While I at times resented the fact that I was still reading it, I did find myself wishing I could find the time to hole up and spend some quality time with it.  I’d be lying if I didn’t start to work about infection myself when I caught myself dreaming about it, which is kind of horrifying, if you’ve read it (but I didn’t have THAT dream, phew). 

Because I’m too lazy to take this seriously in the same week I am throwing a pop-up book store (okay, a summer reading book fair), here is how I summarized it on my list:

 There is nothing sparkly about the vampires in this epic novel. After something goes
horribly awry following secret government experiments on human subjects, a plague is
unleashed that alters the DNA of humans to become horrifying blood-thirsty creatures.  Humanity is nearly extinct, but a few souls have survived, and may be closer to a cure than they realize.

In short, I put this on my summer reading list because it holds great appeal to kids of a certain type (generally those pumped to be reading huge thriller type of books; see also: boys), and is highly readable.  It is, quite literally,  heavy lifting (unless you go for a digital copy too), but it ain’t hard, if you catch my drift.   The main maturity requirement is in commitment, so I’d recommend it to really avid middle and high school readers, who can hang with the stiffs (ahem, adults).  It’s a fun summer read!

For those of you who are now obviously convinced from my awesome summer reading list blurb that you want this to be your hawt summer read, you are done (with this review), son.  Go and get thee a copy!

Let’s let the big boys and girls play with some spoilers now, shall we?

The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones, by Cassandra Clare - Come the Eff On, Clary

That is not the jaw of a teenager.
Just sayin'...

The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones
by Cassandra Clare
Margaret K. McElderry Books: New York, 2007
ISBN: 978-1-4169-5507-8

When Clary interrupts what she thinks is a nightclub fight, she finds herself instead in a closet, with one demon and three tattoo-covered, gorgeous teenagers trying to kill it.  Clary has discovered the world of the Shadowhunters, human warriors fighting to rid the earth of demons, and they have discovered that she is not just a regular non-magical mundane human; she can see them and the demon.  In the course of the next day, Clary’s world is turned upside down and she is swept into the company of the cute and flirtatious Shadowhunter, Jace, when her mother is abducted, and she is attacked by a demon.  Clary begins to discover that she, and her mother, are not the ordinary people she thought; Clary has been a part of the Shadowhunter world for longer than she can remember.  Though the writing and plot of this book, the first in the Mortal Instruments series, is often overwrought, it is fast-paced, engaging, and fun to read.  It is recommended for grades 6-9.  Libraries will be advised to keep a copy of this popular title on hand; there is potential for this to be adapted into a movie.

In the interest of not being a huge jerk, I’m including this disclaimer: this book drove me a bit insane.  There are a number of reasons, which I will get into in a minute (the vast majority caused me to work a “come the [EFF] on, Bridget,” face, so I think you too will delight in a Monday eye roll).  However, I will say this about this series.  I totally get why kids (mostly girls, but definitely some boys) of a certain age (middle/lower high school grades) go bananas for these books and why they are on the New York Time Bestseller list, like permanently.  Frankly, it’s probably the reason I go gaga for Diana Gabaldon, or am eagerly awaiting the sequel to A Discovery of Witches.  The story is action packed, the twists are twisty, the OH-SNAPS are snappy, the boys are all hawt, the girls are all gorgeous, crazy supernatural things occur, and it takes place in a high-stakes cool parallel world, one that you kind of want to visit.  It’s a roller-coaster movie ride, and it’s a really fun book (series).  If you are an adult like me, you are excited for this book to be adapted as a movie (rights have been optioned, actors cast), because you see there is a lot of potential for an awesome movie-drinking game.  And honestly, while it is $0.99 on an e-Reader of your choice, why not?  It's a light read for summer. 

For me though…the book wasn’t quite enough.  It’s possible that I judged it more harshly than I would have otherwise, coming off of a book that also has fantasy, romance, excitement, and supernatural weird angels – Daughter of Smoke and Bone.  But where DSB soars, City of Bones is still learning to crawl.   This is not a well written, edited, nor entirely original book.  Again, it is fun, imaginative, and dramatic.  But hot snap, it is ALL over the place.  I probably won’t read the other ones, but I do want to know what happens, other than the likeliness that good is restored to power, Clary discovers that she’s just super and somehow is the key to all this awesome goodness restoration.  (SPOILER) Mostly, I’m just interested in finding out how this whole Luke and Leia grossness between Clary and Jace undoes itself, because, COME THE EFF ON, BRIDGET, obviously it will.  Can someone just tell me?  Seriously. 

Anyways, on with my not-so-kind thoughts about this book.  I’d give a spoiler alert, but I kind of get the feeling if you haven’t already read it, you’re probably too old to want to do this to yourself, or too young to be reading reviews on the Internet; you have been duly warned!

A Discovery of Witches (and Vampires Who Do Yoga, Fondle Books, and Sniff Wine), by Deborah Harkness

A Discovery of Witches
by Deborah Harkness

New York: Viking, 2011
ISBN: 978-0-670-02241-0

Guilty confession/secret shame: occasionally I read books for adults in addition to books for kids.  While there are some respectable titles in the mix (a recent brush with The Road comes to mind), more often than not they happen to have less literarily lofty ambitions.  Yes.  Are you ready for this jelly?  I'm coming out of the I-love-epic-time traveling-paranormal-historical-romance-fiction-novels closet.  It is true.   I love Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series.  But this is not a post about an awesome book about a WW2 era English nurse who trips and falls through a mini Stonehenge and time and into the arms of a be-kilted ginger Scot that you should read.  It is about another saccharine-y fun book for grownups that I read just the other day!  

When I saw a review for A Discovery of Witches in Booklist that compared it to Outlander, I felt I owed it to my freak flag to read it.  Abandon ye all hope of getting any sort of respectable, scholarly review below.  Pull up a couch and pour yourself a mouthwatering glass of red wine.  Appropriately, anytime I use the word mouthwatering, I have an overwhelming urge to say it like this:

Thanks for nothing, Twilight!  But why, why is this urge to talk like a ridiculous vampire in Twilight so appropriate?  Well, let me tell you all about it.

Ladies and ladies (since I doubt the gents picking this up are few and far between), this book is a mouthwatering mashup of Twilight, Outlander, The Historian, and The Da Vinci Code.  Yes.  Seriously.  Though nowhere near as insane as Outlander, it is epic, it is fun.   Our heroine is one sweet young thang, Diana Bishop, a witch hailing from a long line of other witches, including an infamous one in infamously witch-loving Salem, MA.   Since her parents bit it suspiciously on a trip to Africa when she was a kid, Diana has been denying herself and the world of her magical powerz through a combination of pensive pre-dawn rowing sessions and a historical study of alchemy.  Alchemy being the ye olde science equivalent of magic.  Clearly she's doing a great job!  On sabbatical to Oxford to fondle some dusty old books in Bodlean, Diana finds and promptly returns a freaky enchanted book, and immediately stumbles into the arms of a hot Doctor.  Suspect! Double suspect, he is not just a Doctor!  Oh ho! He is a hot VAMPIRE doctor!  Matthew Clairmont is impossibly fast and strong, his skin is pale white and ice cold, and sometimes he speaks like he's from a different time!  His powers include being hot, being a badass predator, being a doctor, being ascetic, being immortal, having lots of secrets, being part of a vampire gang, and having a penchant for fine wines.  If it weren't for the last, I'm pretty sure the Cullen's would have adopted him by now.  But I digress!  

Turns out a ancient pact of Witches, Vampires, and Ghouls want the book real bad - it may or may not have the secret to magical life tucked away inside and it has been MIA since nigh on forever - and now that everyone knows Diana fondled it, they're all after her.  To boot, said secret society also has a rule on intermagical species dating.  As the Germans say, VERKLEMPT! Oh snap.  But they are not the only secret ancient society out there, and lines are drawn (to steal yet another Stephenie Meyerism) irrevocably.  Our heroes are on the run to places near and far, bourgeois and swank, denying their love, proclaiming their love, doing yoga, and sipping wine throughout.  Will Diana ever embrace her magical powers?  Will Matthew ever not be hot?  Will you be able to avoid craving wine while reading this book?

This book is filled with many things you would expect of anything that has been hit with the romance or paranormal genre sticks:  hot vampires, breaking in to watch people sleep (aka studying at the school of Edward Stalker Cullen), longing looks, pensive walks in the woods, near death fights, surviving near death fights, dudes carrying girls, girls sitting on dudes laps all the time, declarations of true love, opulent vampire lifestyles, hot baths, etc.  But it failed majorly on one count.  I was expecting it to be much more smutty.  I love smutty books!  In fact, there is no. sex. at. all.  I'd have given you a spoiler warning, but consider this your sex disappointment warning.  What up with that Deborah E. Harkness?  No excuses!  What is this, Twilight?

At times the story can drag; there was probably way too much scholarly debate in the first half and not nearly enough action.  It also becomes clear with 200 pages to go that this book is going to be the first in a series.  However, there is a lot to redeem it and judging from the fact that I devoured this book, it's relatively captivating.  If you are anything like me, you will probably be amused by the ridiculous wine sniffing activities (turns out Ms. Harkness has a wine blog), Vampire yoga, convenience of Matthew knowing every historical figure mentioned, inclusion of gay primary characters, occasionally clunky dialogue, and (antiquated) semantics of (vampire) marriage. In short, this post is not short and neither is the book.  But if you at all like reading series or epic paranormal-time traveling-historical fiction books, this is a strong recommendation! 

Peeps, by Scott Westerfeld: Candy coated...vampires?

Dear Imaginary Readers,
Tomorrow I get to meet Scott Westerfeld. He is coming to my work. Yes, this is true. I am one lucky librarian! Badass that I am, I will be skipping out on my class early to do so (even grown ups like to play hooky!). Mwahahaha. In gleeful anticipation, please read my review of one of my favorite Westerfelds. And miscellaneous thoughts on the horror that is his 2nd edition paperback cover.
Be jealous.
Love,
S

Peeps. Westerfeld, Scott (2005).
NY: Razorbill. ISBN: 1-59514-031-X

Oh sexy books, how I love thee. Peeps is a medical horror thiller. Subjective? Yes, definitely. But also, Peeps is totally and completely about sex, sex, and more sex. It is on our protagonists mind, as hard as he tries to ignore it, which means it permeates the entire book, sexily seeping out of the pages and into our minds, infecting us parasitically with dirty sex thoughts. However, while Peeps begins by playing into the YA cliché of sex as a honey-pot, bound to doubly screw you, Westerfeld deftly turns this cliché on its ear by the end of the story. Double props go to him for taking another overplayed YA staple, the vampire, and managing to give readers something new to chew on (teeheehee, read on). The story is gripping, a mysterious thriller from start to finish, interspersing the chapters of the story with chapters of true gross-out medical facts about different types of parasites. Kudos to whomever insisted upon including an appendix with a list of the top 10 ways to avoid getting a parasite. The hipness of the city of NY and all its gritty underground glory radiates and helps keep this story modern; it is not a story that would work in any other setting.

Peeps begins with our young studly hero, Cal, in pursuit of an ex-girlfriend he unintentionally infected with a deadly STD. However, this STD isn't deadly for her, it's deadly for everyone around her, as this STD is a parasite that turns its host into a crazed "vampire." Those who are parasite positive are known of as Peeps for short, and have an aversion to sunlight and a crazed desire to consume human flesh. Yum. Cal, it turns out, is a carrier Peep, meaning he's somehow resistant, but carries the parasite, making him quicker, hungrier, and way hornier than your average 18 year old dude. After moving from Texas to NYC for college, Cal managed to get crazy drunk and loose his virginity in a one-night stand to a strange girl he met in a bar (herein lies the cliché). Now that he's a Peep, he can never have sex again, or even kiss a girl, since the slightest swap of body fluid can infect someone with the rascally parasite. Cal has been recruited to join the Night Watch, an underground organization that tracks and contains outbreaks. In Cal's hunt to find the girl who infected him, he unintentionally creates some challenges for his enforced celibacy when he meets Lacy, a true to form very curious and cute journalism student. He reveals his secret identity to her, and the story here morphs into a mystery when crazy stuff starts to happen, including the discovery of Morgan, the girl who infected him. Turns out that bumping uglies and swapping spit aren't the only way for the parasite to be transferred, and that Peeps might not be so out of control after-all.

As a side note, I was super disappointed with the end of the story. It was all excitement, all tension, all gross-out medical stories to weather, all buildup…and then nothing but a sort of happy ending, marred by the lack of any other conclusions to late plot relevations. If I may use a secondary character reference from Judy Blume's Forever, the ending was a bit of a Ralph, if you catch my drift. I felt short changed and pissed. And then I found out there is a sequel, The Last Days. And now I feel much better about Peeps. The end. (Except now, months after I originally wrote this review, I have taken the liberty of reading The Last Days. And it is no Peeps.)

Best for: High school aged YA's. I'd say boys and girls, but the sort of sparkly, sexy, mascara heavy cover art on my copy totally precludes your average teenage boy picking this up on a lark, and is even more targeted in the lipstick heavy paperback version…why must you always market to girls, publishers of America? Woe to you, losing readers on this one.

This brings me to the following point. Someday, I will write a long an lengthy rant about how publishers occasionally ruin a perfectly delightful cover in the hopes of selling more books to teenage girls, who they presume are daft magpies. But I'll save it for another day. Behold the cover directly to your right-o'clock. Now, I have never been nor will I ever have the displeasure of being a teenage boy. But I can pretty safely say that walking around with a book covered in hot pink print, hot chicks, and male models is something no average teen boy will willingly do before pigs have the opportunity to evolve and grow those wings they've always been meaing to do.

PUBLISHER, I believe I make my point when I say this is a book that a lot of teen boys would actually identify with given the opportunity to not look like a tool carrying it around! Cal has rampant hormones and sexy urges! Many teen boys have rampant hormones and sexy urges! There are lots of gross true medical facts! Teen boys love a gross true medical fact...? Cal is always ravenously hungry! Teen boys are often ravenously hungry! Cal has serious relationship problems! Teen boys have serious relationship problems! And did I mention that this entire book is about sex? SEX. Epic fail, target marketer. Way to aim for a specific audience and miss a whole other one. Now that I've wound myself back down, I just stumbled upon a new edition paperback cover. I think it moves leaps and bounds in a less alienating and way grittier direction, so I choose to overlook what I think are the rose petals...yay for acknowledging that this isn't a shiny happy pod people book!


Book talk hook: Turn the idea of vampires on its head, luring eager young readers in. Describe the symptoms of peeps, maybe using some of Cal's own descriptions and play on the whole "Cal can never kiss anyone again. EVER."