In Which We Discuss Love Lessons

Jacqueline Wilson is famous for her children's books, and although Love Lessons is aimed at slightly older readers, it's still best suited to young adolescents, probably girls between twelve and sixteen.

Fourteen-year-old Prudence and eleven-year-old Grace have had a somewhat unique upbringing. From a young age, they've been home schooled by their controlling father. At first it was for religious reasons, although after a while, even the vicar disagreed with their father's extreme methods.

Both girls work in their father's failing bookstore in their spare time, and, to his mind, it's what they'll do all their lives. Insistent that his younger daughter has "no more brains than a donkey" he constantly heaps criticism on her, while his idea of praising Prue is to tell her that one day she can design the dust cover for his "Magnum Opus", a work oddly reminiscent of the one Kate's husband is writing at the beginning of Nick Hornby's How to be Good. In other words, it's an arrogant self-centred man's ideas of what exactly is wrong with the world.

Prue's father is clearly the villain of the piece. He's not necessarily a bad man, just one insistent that he is right, always and forever, no matter what the rest of the world thinks. To the misfortune of the rest of the world in general and his daughters in particular he's managed to find a wife who agrees with his opinion of himself and who, partly due to his constant criticism of her, fails to stand up to him.

As you can see, the book follows Wilson's normal theme of children's issues with their parents and growing up. The storyline is oddly reminiscent of Lola Rose, mostly in the dynamics of Prue's parents relationship.

Like most of Wilson's characters, Prue is creative, and, like Ellie from Girls in Love, enjoys artwork. Her one dream is to go to art college, although, as her father's opinion is that "they don't paint at art school now, they just faff around with blocks of concrete and dead animals and pretend all that crap is creative," she doesn't seem to have much chance of achieving this. Until, that is, a heart attack takes their father out of the equation, and Prue is suddenly plunged into the terrifying world of teenagers.

With her home-made clothes and lack of social skills, Prue immediately attracts all the wrong kinds of attention. Her natural skill with writing and art alienates her from her classmates, while her lack of experience in an official environment and the gaps in her knowledge cause some of her teachers to dislike or resent her. All except for her art teacher, Rax, who quickly becomes the only person she feels she can depend on.

The entire book is told in first person, from Prue's point of view, and this enables the reader to empathize with and understand more fully her growing feelings for Rax. From this point on, the book could easily be very predictable, but, somehow, Jacqueline Wilson manages to avoid that trap, and what's left is a sweet and unique look at a forbidden relationship.

Prue isn't the most likeable of Wilson's heroines, and this book probably isn't Wilson's most absorbing. Personally, I preferred Dustbin Baby, The Lottie Project, or even The Illustrated Mum, although those were aimed at younger readers. As for older readers, the Girls series is probably preferable. Still, the truly original way in which the relationship is handled makes it worth reading, particularly for people who are already fans of Jacqueline Wilson's work.

Anyone who enjoyed this book might like to look at Jodi Picoult's Salem Falls, which also deals with inappropriate student-teacher relationships, although the book is aimed at adults, and handles the subject in a very different manner.

In Which We Discuss Loop

Although this review will avoid spoilers for Loop, I cannot promise that it will not contain spoilers for the prequels, Ring (Ringu) and Spiral (Rasen), or for any films based on the series.

I won't deny that I've been awaiting my copy of Loop for a long time, and the person who bought it for me has my eternal gratitude. Originally released in 1990, and translated from Japanese to English in the late nineties, Loop is the third book of the Ring series and continues the events of the previous books, Ring and Spiral. Many people will recognise Ring as the basis of the 1998 Japanese film and the 2002 American film, both of the same name.

Those who have seen the Ring films may be surprised by how much they differ from the books. Although Ring suffered minor changes compared to Spiral, it seems impossible, to me, that any sequel to those films based on this third instalment will be anything like the original. The films have spiralled (pun intended) on to such a different tangent, that the shocking events and conclusion of this novel, a conclusion which was subtly introduced in the previous books, cannot survive as a sequel to the films.

For the first few hundred pages of Loop, the reader will probably be wondering exactly how this book corresponds to the previous two. Spiral ended with a horrifying view of a hopeless future, something there seems to be no sign of in Loop. Loop, like Ring and Spiral, takes place in Japan, and considering how Spiral ended, it's highly unlikely that Kaoru, the main character, can live in the same country and yet be unaware of the events set in motion.

So, is the book set in the past, or far in the future, or do the events occur at the same time as in the previous books? How can Kaoru, be unaware of the worldwide events which began in Ring and Spiral? What, exactly, is going on here?

It takes a while for these questions to be answered, but with Suzuki, the ride is always enjoyable. The story begins with a young Kaoru, and introduces the character who we will spend the next almost-five-hundred pages with. As with the previous novels, the main character is interested in scientific discovery and genetics, and this is a major part of the story. The titular Loop is a computer program which mimics the evolution of live on earth, as one can learn from reading the back cover of the book. Scientific jargon abounds, and if this is something that put you off in the previous books, particularly Spiral, then perhaps another series is more your style.

Speaking of the back of the book, don't read it. In my honest opinion, it gives away far more than would be ideal of the novel. Fortunately, I didn't read it until after I finished the book, and I found the entire experience a lot more enjoyable for that. As with all books, the blurb appears to have been written by someone who heard only a Chinese whispers version of the book, and didn't think much of it. Don't read it if you can help it.

Loop has a rather different feel from its predecessors. While Ring and Spiral were chilling horror stories, Loop is more of a mystery novel, and, unlike after reading the previous two books, it's a lot easier to sleep at night after finishing Loop. It's true that Suzuki is a masterful horror writer, as anyone who has read Ring, Spiral or Dark Water – or even seen the films - will know, but I feel he handled the mystery of Loop equally well.

Loop does reference and describe parts of its predecessors – it's actually possible to read the book as a stand alone, as you could do with the other books. What's interesting about this is the way that scenes take on an entirely different air, simply because of the viewpoint they are told from. Loop is, once again, told in third person, but heavily leans on the impressions of a single character, as Ring did with Asakawa and Spiral did with Ando.

In summary, Loop is an excellent, imaginative, unique and original continuation of the Ring series, with Suzuki's consummate skill taking the books in a direction no one could have foreseen.

In Which We Discuss Plain Truth

Philadelphia lawyer, Ellie Hathaway is somewhat dissatisfied with her life and career. There's no reason why she should be – she's won almost every case she's come up against. She's kept murderers, rapists, and various other criminals out of jail. She's successfully suppressed evidence and won all her cases. She's just won yet another high profile case, although it does not improve her feelings. As Ellie describes it;

"My nightmares were full of children. Specifically, six little girls – two dark-haired, four fair, their knees sticking out beneath the plaid uniform jumper of St Ambrose's School, their hands twisting in their laps. I watched them grow up in an instant, you see; at the very moment a jury foreman acquitted my client, the elementary school principle who had molested them."

Her personal life isn't ideal, either. She always assumed that she'd have children by this point, and the fact that motherhood currently isn't an option is something that nags at her as her bodily clock ticks away. Despite being with her partner for eight years now, they aren't married, or even close to being so, and the face of the child she never had haunts her dreams.

However, for now, Ellie is remaining optimistic. Her partner, Stephen, has set up an interview for her at his firm, with a chance to be made senior partner. When her car's engine conks out on the highway, she is lucky not to be killed. But all Stephen can do is ask why she's late, and tell her "that's what taxi's are for."

So, Ellie decides to take a hiatus from her life and her career, and goes to stay with her aunt Leda, near Lancaster County, in Southeast Pennsylvania. She soon finds she's dropped straight into a murder trial, and despite her personal feelings, ends up helping the Amish girl accused, eighteen-year-old Katie Fisher.

A dead newborn was recently found at the Fisher family's farm. Medical experts say that it appears that the baby may have been smothered, and to local detective, Lizzie Munro, it seems that the most likely culprit would be the mother of the child. There is no obvious mother, though, until Katie is seen to be bleeding, and is forcefully taken to hospital. Despite all medical evidence, Katie continues insisting that she was never pregnant.

Katie's family, particularly her father, is traditionally Amish. When Lizzie asks if his daughter may have been pregnant, Aaron Fisher denies it, on the grounds that Katie was unmarried. When Lizzie gently points out that marriage is not a prerequisite for pregnancy, Aaron replies, "To us, it is."

Much of the book focuses on Amish culture, particularly as Ellie is required to stay at the Fisher's farm as Katie's guardian. I must confess, that my previous knowledge of the Amish faith comes, in it's entirety from Weird Al Yankovic's "Amish Paradise", which is definitely not the best source. However, subsequent research has shown that Picoult was pretty accurate in her portrayal. Lapsed Amish (practicing Amish deigned to comment) also say that she got it right.

The Amish characters in the book occupy a fairly wide variety of roles. Aaron Fisher, Katie's father, is tremendously strict, and hard on his family and himself. He goes far beyond what the ordnances require, and refuses to so much as acknowledge his lapsed son, Jacob.

Jacob wished to study beyond the eighth grade education Amish folk are normally given, and chose to do so rather than stay within his family. The Amish culture disapproves of individual achievement, which Jacob's study was seen as. However, although he was not a member of the faith, his father and his family were not required to forget him completely, and Sarah Fisher and her daughter, Katie, try their best to talk to him in secret.

Another character that left the Amish faith is Leda, both Katie and Ellie's aunt. Although she does not visit due to Aaron's strict views, she and Sarah are still in contact, and Leda provides the link between Ellie and Katie, at least at first.

Samuel Stolzfus, Katie's intended, is just a strong, atypical Amish man, trying to do what he believes is for the best. He occupies a similar role to Patrick in the film Saved! as far as portrayals of traditionally religious characters are concerned, and provides a stark contrast to Aaron.

The plot is told between a third-person viewpoint, with occasional first-person chapters from Ellie's point of view.

To be honest, I didn't find Ellie a sympathetic or truly believable person. Her obsession with a child is so great that she finds herself unable to truly sympathize with Katie, who she believes is guilty. I don't believe it. I don't believe it's possible to be so obsessed with motherhood that a person who would win cases for pedophiles and rapists would have difficulty arguing for someone accused of neonaticide. Of course, I'm young, and nowhere near to being a mother myself, and perhaps my opinion will change. But, for now, I just don't find it believable. Or rather, if I am to believe, then Ellie is hypocritical enough that I find myself unable to consider her a sympathetic character.

Jodi Picoult's writing is just as good and involving as in My Sister's Keeper although still not as witty or flowing as Sosnowski, another author on my mind, who wrote Vamped. For some reason I found this book slightly less enjoyable than My Sister's Keeper. It's most likely that the subject matter interested me less. There's also the fact that My Sister's Keeper focused more on the relationships between characters and was told by a wide variety, while Plain Truth is told only in third-person, or from the viewpoint of a character I didn't like very much.

However, just because I found the book less enjoyable doesn't mean that it was bad. On the contrary, I was unable to put it down, and am now reading it for the second time in as many weeks. I also picked up three more of Picoult's novels earlier, and, since hearing that Lifetime made Plain Truth into a film, I had the good fortune of accidentally and coincidentally tracking it down. Picoult made a new fan with My Sister's Keeper, and Plain Truth has only strengthened my respect for her writing.

In Which We Discuss Olivia's Luck

Another repost. I still love this book, although I haven't read it in a while.

I must admit, this is one of my favourite books.

Olivia met her husband Johnny when he was seventeen, ten years before. She'd been with her two best friends, Molly and Imogen. Although Molly had flirted with him, and then Imogen had dated him, it was Olivia who eventually married him. One of the main themes in the book is the claim all three girls always felt they had on Johnny.

Ten years later, as the book starts, Olivia, Johnny, and their daughter have just moved into their dream home and our working on redecorating it. Olivia is understandably shocked when Johnny suddenly announces that he's leaving her, especially when she discovers that it's for another woman. Whatever else he's been, Johnny's always been honourable. The idea of doing what's right has always been very important to him, and the development of the idea of what the effect of Johnny's idealistic (deceased) father, and living up to perfection has had on him takes up a good part of the book.

The book is over five hundred pages long, and so littered with subplots and events that it's impossible to briefly define it. There are many themes - as I said, how Olivia, Molly and Imogen's friendship has developed with the influence of a man they all loved, Johnny's attempts to live up to what he sees as his father's affection, Olivia's coping with bringing up her own daughter while trying not to repeat her mothers mistakes, as well as coming to terms with the realisation that, for years, her friend's mother has hated her. There're also the builders in the back garden, who have their own problems. Lance, Mac, Spiro and Alf, while essentially comic relief, are also well rounded and realistic characters, who all contribute to the plot in unique ways, much like all the other characters in the book. There are far more characters and subplots, but, realistically, it's impossible to describe them all. However, each event does contribute to the book as a whole. Each person contributes to Olivia's knowledge, ideas and experiences (the book being told from Olivia's point of view) and so colour the decisions she makes, whether subtly or obviously.

However, I suppose it could be said, that the most important part of the book is Olivia's attempts to cope with the desertion of her husband. Although he's been acting strangely for a while, she'd never once suspected an affair. It becomes worse when Olivia discovers that Nina, the other woman, is a teacher at her daughter, Claudia's school. At first Olivia is furious, but as time goes by, she begins to long for a glimpse of Nina merely to keep some semblance of a hold on Johnny. Although Olivia does her best to cope with her new status, her feelings of grief and betrayal are fairly well explored. The quality of writing in the book remains constant throughout (quite a feat, given the length), but two scenes really stand out. One of these scenes is when Olivia and Nina finally manage to confront each other, both in possession of all the facts, and neither attempting to play games. It's a truly powerful scene. Both women are portrayed sympathetically, and manage to present both sides of the discussion clearly and articulately.

The book is very feminine, and it may not be to everyone's taste. It's a little more serious and slightly more heavy than many of it's contemporaries, and, due to how fast I read, I really like the length. Many books end too soon, or feel slightly rushed, or just don't have enough substance. This book does, and I can honestly say that there isn't a single page I don't like or a single plot twist I would wish to change.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to reread it for the twelfth time.

In Which We Discuss Nineteen Minutes

Another repost, from that time I got really into Jodi Picoult. I'll be writing another post about her later, if I find the time.

Jodi Picoult is an immensely talented author, and she rarely disappoints her readers (note; I have since taken this back).

Nineteen Minutes, like all Picoult's other novels, demonstrates her established skill with dramatic wording, among other things. Take the opening paragraph after the prologue; after a litany of things that can be done in nineteen minutes, she ends with this chilling refrain;

"In nineteen minutes, you can stop the world or you can just jump off it.

In nineteen minutes, you can get revenge."

This kind of dramatic effect is seen in many other lines, as well as in the way Picoult's narrative moves quickly between various characters and plot lines, often ending on a dramatic line or semi-cliff-hanger, in a style similar to that of Terry Pratchett or Sheri Tepper.

However, these specific nineteen minutes are those that a teenage boy spends shooting his classmates, an idea which has roots in real life and has been explored in other books such as Lionel Shriver's We Need to Talk About Kevin. Picoult has used complex links between the characters in order to explore the childhood and origins of those people involved, in order to establish how someone could reach that state. Specifically, the daughter of the judge assigned to the trial is a classmate of the shooter, and his mother was her mother's midwife, meaning that, in a not entirely dissimilar way to Sara's role in Picoult's other work, My Sister's Keeper, flashbacks on the part of the mother enables the history to be explained.

Unlike in My Sister's Keeper, or many of Picoult's other novels the book is written in third person, rather than having different parts of the story told in first person by different characters. This does allow more viewpoints to be heard, and, surprisingly, doesn't hinder the ability to get inside a characters head as one might expect it would. At times, though, it seems like the sheer amount of character's might overwhelm the reader, but, as always, Picoult manages to hold the threads of the story together with consummate skill, and the ending is fresh, intriguing, and, despite the element of mystery, falls into place perfectly.

Many of Picoult's books focus on the way the world can change in just a moment, with the majority of mystery of the book being how, why and what happened in that moment. Surprisingly, this novel doesn't focus on what happened during those specific nineteen minutes; instead it focuses on the years which built up to them.

A major theme in the book is that of bullying, and there's a very powerful scene where one of the bullies in question is put on the witness stand. He defends himself by claiming that his actions were "just a joke". The defence lawyer – Jordan McAfee, a recurring character who also defended Jack St Bride in Salem Falls – then questions him about specific events that happened over the years, ending each time with the question "so that was just a joke?"

It's the kind of scene any victim of bullying would love to see; their tormentor put on the stand and forced to answer for their actions. And it has an interesting effect. Although throughout the novel, the reader knows that the shooter is in the wrong, that killing a number of people is wrong, at this point it becomes clear that he isn't a monster. His peers, his classmates, and everyone who looked the other way are, because of their actions over the years, in no way on the moral high ground. Although he's in the wrong, the reader sympathises with and likes the character a lot better than they do his rather lacklustre peers, and those who let him down over the years.

A number of comparisons can be drawn between this novel and that of Salem Falls, mostly due to the sheer unfairness of the way the defendant is treated and viewed within the small community in which he lives. This book doesn't elicit the same sympathy for the victim as Salem Falls did – I caught myself checking the ending of that novel, something I never do, just to check that everything worked out okay – but it's not entirely dissimilar.

In summary, the novel is a fascinating look at what can drive someone to such an extreme action, and manages to elicit sympathy for someone who commits a crime many people would consider monstrous. The victim culture and the underlying theme of the effects that bullying can have on someone is very well thought out and adds a lot of depth to the novel. Unfortunately, Picoult's portrayal of Peter, one of the main characters, as a very stereotypical "computer nerd" is one of the things I didn't enjoy about the novel. It's extremely clichéd, and considering Picoult's disparaging comments about Wonder Woman fans as "really scary people who live in their parents' basement" and the heat she took over the remark, you think she would have thought twice of using such an outdated concept.

Still, that tiny element is not enough to detract from my enjoyment of the novel as a whole, and I don't think any fans will be disappointed by this latest work.

In Which We Discuss My Sister's Keeper

Yet another repost. There'll be an explanatory post once I'm fully updated.

When Kate Fitzgerald was diagnosed with acute promyelocytic leukemia at the age of two, her family's life was turned upside down. While her father, Brian concentrates on holding the family together, as well as his job, as a firefighter, and his hobby, astronomy, her mother, Sara becomes almost obsessed with Kate's health.

When Kate's elder brother Jesse is found not to be a suitable match, Sara almost gives up hope. That is, until a doctor says that another sibling might be a better match; as Sara observes, he's referring to a child she never had and didn't plan for. In light of the new events, Sara and Brian do plan a child; plan harder than ever before, in fact, as they genetically engineer their third child to be a perfect match for Kate, with the objective of her performing as a donor for her sister.

At first, all that is required from Anna (Andromeda, named by her father, after the constellation which is known as the chained maiden in English) is stem cells from her umbilical cord. Until, that is, Kate relapses.

From that point on, both Anna and Kate are constantly in and out of hospital. As Anna observes, she herself is not sick, but she might as well be. Kate needs blood and bone marrow, and although, as Anna observes, she never gave her permission as she was never actually asked for it, she goes along with these procedures. Until, at the age of sixteen (Anna is thirteen) Kate's kidneys start to fail, and Anna is expected to donate one of hers.

Kidney donation is a relatively simple procedure. Compared to, for instance, open-heart surgery. You're given anesthesia (something that has been given to Anna in order to help Kate many times), the risks of which include strokes, heart attacks and lung problems. As for the actual operation, there's a one in three thousand chance of dying on the operating table. Afterwards, you are hospitalized for four to seven days, although it actually takes more like six weeks to recover. And the long term risks include a increased chance of high blood pressure, a risk of complications with pregnancy, and the need to refrain from activities which could damage the remaining kidney.

It is this which triggers Anna's decision to sue her parents for medical emancipation. In short, for the rights to her own body.

Certain that no court in the world would force Anna to give up her kidney, and that her parents will fold before it even goes to trial, the lawyer she approaches, Campbell Alexander, agrees to take on the case, in exchange for Anna's polishing the doorknobs in his office, since she is unable to pay.

However, Sara is unable to even consider giving up this, which may be Kate's last chance, and as a former lawyer, decides to represent herself in court.

The story is told in chapters told through the first-person view of various characters; Anna, Jesse, Sara, and Brian Fitzgerald, Campbell Alexander, and Julia Romano. Interestingly, Kate is the one character whose opinion isn't shown, despite her being the central figure of the novel.

The Fitzgerald family are all, for want of a better phrase, fucked up. Sara is obsessed with keeping her family whole to the extent that she no longer cares if they're happy. Her response to any of Anna or Jesse's problems is, essentially, "Kate has cancer, isn't that more important?" Sometimes, yes, but not collectively, not every single time.

I'm afraid that I didn't find Sara Fitzgerald a very sympathetic character. I'm not sure if I'd feel differently if I were a mother myself, but I can't empathize with he point of view. Her conviction, that she knows best for everyone, is irritating, and somewhat selfish. I'm not sure if it's any less selfish that the 'self' she is centred on is, in fact, her daughter. Still, all in all, I didn't find her an entirely likable character.

Brian, the father of the family is a firefighter. Most of his sections explore his obsession with fire, and the ways in which his seeking to control it is symbolic of his relationship with his family. He seeks to control fire because it's something he can control, almost like an anorexia victim's attitude to food.

His son, Jesse has a similar reaction. Yet, instead of seeking to control fire he uses it as a method of destruction. He's eighteen years old, and has, for several years, been living in an apartment over the garage, apart from the family, although he does still eat with them. He observes himself that Kate's illness has turned him into a rebel, but doesn't seek to change the status quo so dramatically as Anna does. Nonetheless, he supports her in it.

Anna is completely torn. More than anything, she does not want to give her sister her kidney, for many reasons, more of which are revealed as the book goes on. However, Kate is her best friend; neither of them have been healthy long enough to become close to other people, especially since girls their own age tend to be a little afraid of Kate's illness. She also has to live with her family, despite everything. Most of all, though, it's her relationship with Sara that changes.

Although Brian understands their youngest daughter's feelings, Sara is fixated on curing Kate, and is convinced that Anna is only trying to get some attention. Mother and daughter are unable to understand each others point of view; but Sara is still Anna's mommy, and the confusion and lack of black and white areas apparent in the relationship and decisions made are described wonderfully.

Then there's Campbell Alexander, the lawyer. At first, he's sure that it will be an simple case, and that a decision will be reached before it even gets to court. He soon realises that it's not that easy. As Campbell gets to know Anna and her family better, more of his own life is revealed. Campbell's a tricky character, who hates being tied down. Although he owns a service dog (named Judge - as he explains, what lawyer wouldn't want to put a Judge in a cage every so often?), every single explanation he gives for it is different. The situation is even more complicated by the fact that it's a small town, and everybody knows everybody. The judge assigned to the case is one who has known the Fitzgeralds, and Campbell for years. Even worse, the guardian ad litem assigned to Anna is Julia Romano, Campbell's ex-girlfriend.

Julia's job as a GAL is to look out for Anna's best interests, since she's a minor filing a case against her family. She's also someone who gets close to Anna, since younger people can sometimes have trouble expressing themselves, and, in Anna's case, resisting the pressure of her mothers wishes. In other words, it seems that she's mostly there to describe how Anna and the others come across, since that's not shown during during individual chapters. Her relationship and various problems with Campbell also form a sub-plot, which doesn't really impinge on the main story.

Picoult's writing style is absorbing, and her dialogue is snappy. The characters all have their own personalities and relationships with each other. Although the use of various characters to tell different parts of the story can be tricky to pull off, each of Picoult's characters has such a unique voice that the reader is rarely confused (unlike, for instance, Gregory Maguire's Mirror, which used a similar technique rather less successfully).

The portrayal of a family, and the complicated relationships and feelings between them is accurate and true to life. Although Anna doesn't want to be a donor all her life, and she wants to feel like more than spare parts for Kate, her desire for this is a betrayal for the mother and sister she both loves and hates. The books opens with the sentence; In my first memory, I am three years old, and I am trying to kill my sister. It then continues with; As we got older, I didn't seem to exist, except in relation to her.

It's true that love and hate are very closely tied together, and the relationship between Anna and Kate is one of the best examples in modern fiction of such a relationship.

In summary, this book is moving, and deals well with a difficult issue. It's a fairly good length, and keeps you gripped until the ending. The differing opinions in the book are well presented, and can often be empathized with even if they are not fully agreed with.

The only fault I can find is with the ending, which seems rather too neat. However, the use of Kate's silence is a nice touch throughout the novel, and Picoult's use of dramatic tension is spell-binding.

In Which We Discuss Beauty

Another repost. Again, I've improved greatly as a writer, and, since this is one of my favourite books, I will probably return to it at some point.

Tying together various fairy tales from through the ages in a way that is completely realistic and believable, 'Beauty' is a work of art.

Sheri S. Tepper has an odd gift of making the fantastic completely logical and believable. Beauty is a human girl, a normal girl, despite being a fairytale character. Nothing in the book seems far fetched or unbelievable, despite the nature of its inspiration.

The book is a good length (at 476 pages in the Gollancz Fantasy Masterworks edition), but nothing is stretched out more than it should be. Nor is it overly shortened. The pace is perfect.

As in all of her books, Sheri S. Tepper puts her characters in certain situations that give a lot of things for the reader to think about. Beauty travels to hell at one point; the people there are those who enjoyed horror and pain, and used it for amusement. The people in heaven are those who built beautiful things and tried to make the world better in their own way. That's an interesting definition of good and evil. Since this is set in our own world, the vision of the future that is given is fascinating and scarily plausible.

Yet despite the depth and complexities of the plot, the book is not at all difficult to read. It's the sort of book you'll finish reading, reflect on it for a moment, then turn back to the beginning and start again. All in all, fascinating.