The Testaments by Margaret Atwood

This is the sequel to The Handmaid’s Tale, which I reviewed here: https://readingrampant.wordpress.com/2017/03/06/the-handmaids-tale-by-margaret-atwood/

**Spoiler Alert** The Testaments was published 15 years after The Handmaid’s Tale. Atwood herself states that it was brought about by reader questions, not any original intention to write a sequel, and that shows. The worldbuilding is over, and no new horrors are added. The power of The Handmaid’s Tale is in Offred’s utter powerlessness and hopelessness. She fights as much as she can, and it all comes to nothing. She, and all the women, are trapped, puppets of people who would function better if they were in fact without brains. The society is too strong, too well orchestrated, too powerful, and cannot be fought. The Handmaid’s Tale strips hope from its readers and leaves them devastated, and that is perfect. The Testaments entirely undermines that devastation. It promises real hope, and delivers. It shows the end of Gilead, the weaknesses within the government’s attempt at absolute power. I was so disappointed. **End of Spoilers**

The Testaments itself is alright. The various storylines are interesting to follow as they slowly converge, and I truly cared about each character that was followed. They were all very different, very real, very human. Each one had such a different perspective, and it really showed in their various opinions, reactions and even word choices. The switches between perspectives were well orchestrated. The reader can understand and sympathize with more than any one character, and at the same time points of uncertainty were not resolved before the characters they affected knew the outcome.

**Spoiler Alert** That said, some character motivations were unclear. Why did Aunt Lidia insist that Nichole had to be the one to carry her documents? She asserts that it is because Nichole will be beyond reproach, unkillable, but she has no great issue allowing others to die. I can understand saving all the worst proof until she is ready to die, because she knows it will reveal her as the source within Gilead, but the delivery of it seems more symbolic and contrived than necessary or sensible. Until well into the story, Aunt Lidia retains her old methods of delivering documents. Why not simply send out many copies that way? Some may be caught, although that was unlikely until late in the story, but others would get through. Putting all her decades of careful documentation in one highly perishable, highly conspicuous person is contrary to all the rest of her diligent scheming. If she insists on only one conveyance, she could have simply never requested Nichole but waited and given two trusted Pearl Girls, perhaps Agnes and Becka, those most precious documents at their normal departure time. This would have aroused no inordinate suspicion, and involved very low risk. The motivation of Agnes being able to meet her sister could have easily been used. Aunt Lidia could have told the two that she had managed to contact Mayday and the price for meeting Nichole, and the opportunity to convert and return her, was this information they carried. They could easily have been mislead about the true nature of the information, and eagerly and covertly carried it right to Mayday. Every moment Nichole is in Gilead is a risk, and an unnecessary one. Her presence, and the much riskier, more conspicuous method of relaying information was never properly motivated. This is about as big of a plot hole as there can be: it encompasses the entire drama of the story. **End of Spoilers**

The pacing was bad. There was no real drama, no uncertainty, no close risk of being caught, until the very end. Then, suddenly, the characters were free or finished and we heard no more from them. The abrupt, unresolved ending that worked so well in The Handmaid’s Tale is not suited to The Testaments. Seeing the same type of un-resolution made me wonder if Atwood simply doesn’t know how to resolve a story.

I was excited to read this sequel because of how powerful the first book was, but it ultimately not only failed to stand on its own but also undermined its predecessor. The character voices were the good aspect. I rate this book 3/10.

The Great Passage by Shion Miura

The Great Passage is based on true events around the creation of a dictionary, something that most of us don’t give much thought.

The story is told through the various perspectives of those who are working on this great dictionary. We learn each of their lives, thoughts, hopes, and motivations in turn. Each chapter functions as a mini-arc, showing each character in their small moments of change or growth.

The overall story is simple: a department of people want to publish a dictionary, and they do. It is a quiet little tale, serving as a window into the Japanese culture. Every character, even those incidentally assigned to the task with no real desire or investment in dictionaries, strives to create the ultimate dictionary. Other things must come second. Thus, this small tale becomes touching in its ardor.

The Great Passage has no epic characters or story, no gripping twists or touching revelations, but it is interesting to pass the time with. I rate this book 3/10.

Assassins’s Apprentice by Robin Hobb

This is the first book in a series, and definitely reads as such. Lots of characters, conflicts and dilemmas are introduced, but left unresolved.

The finale drama occurs over the last section of the book without preamble. Characters have been established, pieces have been laid to coalesce, but there is no rising action, no building of tension, until the final crucial moments. Much if this is due to the main character’s perspective on life: within his own, he is a spectator. He allows others to make his decisions, and rarely takes initiative beyond the bare minimum required of him. He is lonely, but does not seek to make friends, or to connect himself to others beyond what they initiate. He does not drive his own life, and thus does not give the audience goals to desire. Nor does he cause me to love or despise other characters for helping or hurting him. Certainly, horrible things happen to him which the reader cannot want, but he does not strive to avoid or remedy them, or process their effects on him, and so the events do not carry lasting weight. The largest sentiments roused in me were regret for all the chances that were either denied to him or squandered by him, and annoyance that he did not value or stand up for himself.

Too often, difficult choices were taken away from him by other characters’ initiative. He was luckily helped out of most severe situations or difficult decisions. Many others acted for him, so he did not have to struggle for results, and when he did struggle he rarely achieved his desire.

The writing is fair. It is framed in the perspective of an old man relaying his life’s story. Often, this framing got in the way of, rather than enhanced, the main storylines. This was especially true when only a sentence or two was added from the older main-character’s perspective. It was just enough to draw me out of the current moment, but often, instead of deepening it, merely provided cumbersomely written and superfluous ideas. Sentences and paragraphs tended towards wordiness.

The story was diverting to read, but ultimately empty.  The main character is far too apathetic to carry a story, no matter how grand. I rate this book 4/10.

Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust

This novel is about two women fighting for power and family: a stepmother and stepdaughter. If you’ve read any of the fairy tales, you know how that relationship is supposed to play out: evil stepmother; good and neglected stepdaughter. But this is not a fairy tale. The king loves his daughter more than his new wife in a way that is also unhealthy, and it is he who keeps the two of them always apart. And this distance gives them room to turn against each other.

The characters are very real, with genuine, muddled emotions. They try their best to do the right thing, the good thing, the thing which will not leave them behind. They are hurt, and they act from it without realizing that is why. They love, and they fear the vulnerability it brings, and in the face of such fear they are sometimes brave and sometimes not. They long for human connection, but do not dare to admit it.

Two stories are told at once, over two periods: Mina’s story from when she first moved to the North to the present, and Lynet’s story in the present. These point-of-view switches are used classically to build tension through unknowns in the characters and the audience.

The juxtaposition of Mina and Lynet when each was sixteen is a beautiful way of revealing character and its origin. The only downside is that the story is slow to start. Much of beginning, until Mina reaches the present, reads as a prequel. We know she will end up marrying the king, Nicholas, which is her main goal throughout the beginning of the story. This rather lessens the dramatic tension of her origin, and, though her story is interesting and bears a fulfilling emotional arc, it is not gripping. It is only when the full foundation of the current relationships is shown, and Lynet is given a choice in the present that the real story begins. It is, however, well worth waiting for.

The characters in Girls of Snow and Glass are so very human. Their relationships are fraught, beautiful and terrible to behold. However, the lead-up to these complex relationships is very slow. I rate this book 7/10.

The Twenty-Sided Sorceress (1-7) by Annie Bellet

This review will encompass the first seven books of a series at once. They are relatively short, more episodes than complete works on their own, and build to one continuous overarching story.

This series is fun but not particularly serious. It’s good for light summer reading. Character change is minimal, and glossed over when it does happen. Most changes in how characters relate to one another happen at the beginning and end of books: Jade Crow, the main character, gets into a relationship, has issues with it, and resolves the issues all in short scenes at the beginning and end of books.

My largest complaint throughout the series is that the scenes aren’t the right length. Major changes happen too quickly, especially in the action scenes. All the adversaries faced are formidable for the ‘level’ of the main characters, and the suspense leading up to each battle is well-laid. However, every single battle, win or lose, is over in a couple of pages. The actual confrontation occurs in a few moments. The characters try one thing which either works or doesn’t, and then the battle is decided: if it doesn’t work, they lose–if it does, they win. There is no rallying from almost-certain defeat in the middle of battle, no prolonged exchange of blows, no original plans being thrown out the window and creative solutions winning out. As a result, the wins and losses both don’t feel significant. Intellectually, the reader and the characters know that success is good and failure bad, but the characters aren’t given time to emotionally process either development, so the reader doesn’t either. The human element in these stories is very shallow.

For those who have played Dungeons and Dragons, the references to spells and creatures in the game are fun. I enjoyed seeing them being used to channel ‘real-life’ magic, and the wholesome, non-judgemental integration of gaming online and in person. Most of the time, when gaming is referenced it is done derogatorily. One or a few characters are made fun of for engaging in such activity. They are usually over-the-top nerdy and socially inept, and trying to fit in with the ‘regular’ world. Here, most of the characters game in one way or another, and doing so is shown as simply a fun thing that people do. Being a nerd and a gamer is not lumped into the same category. They have their own social structure, and fulfilling friendships and relationships. They introduce others to gaming, rather than forsaking it for new connections. They aren’t the usual trope of longing to be ‘normal,’ but rather revel in the games and shows they enjoy. It was refreshing to see gamers portrayed as real people whose entire identity is not limited gaming.

The characters in the Twenty-Sided Sorceress series are real, well-established people, who unfortunately do not develop believably or much. The moments of change in the series are skimmed over, not allowing the characters or readers to emotionally process developments. I rate this series 6/10.

Dracula by Bram Stoker

This book is written in the form of diary entries, newspaper articles, letters, and other such ‘found documents.’ No pain is spared in creating simulacra of such documents. No part is skipped or condensed, except that these are obviously reports written after events so sometimes the action moments are not as detailed as those which describe in what parts of town the characters searched for boxes of dirt.

The pacing of the book is very bad. 90% of it is lead-up, in great detail, and the climactic scenes are only a few paragraphs long. It opens with Jonathan traveling through the country to attend to financial affairs for one Count Dracula. Through Jonathan’s diary, the details of his journey, what he ate and how it tasted, the countryside, and every detail which is interesting and foreign to him is described. Then he arrives at Castle Dracula and begins talking with the Count which, because the reader knows he is a vampire and highly dangerous, lends the story momentum. When will Jonathan realize? Then Jonathan does realize and is trapped in the castle. The Count makes him fake letters which say he has left the castle, a process which takes a few days, and Jonathan sits by and doesn’t even attempt resistance. Then, on the day he knows from his own letters he will be killed, he resolves to climb down the outer wall and run. The story then jumps to the diary of his fiance, who is biding her time in London and worrying about him. After a great number of pages of that, it jumps to letters between her and her friend who remained in London as she went to meet, tend to the injuries of, and marry Jonathan. Yes, the escape worked. How? Jonathan has not told his wife, so we do not know. The whole book is like that. The latter half details the tracking and pursuit of Dracula, and the last two pages relay the capture and killing of the him. As soon as the climactic moment has arrived, the story is over. Every mundane detail is laid out excruciatingly thoroughly, while every action-packed moment that the mundane preparation leads to is summarized quickly.

It’s true that this book is old, and so the storytelling style is different than what we would expect today. However, many older books have a beauty of language, or a cleverness of construction which makes them admirable in a different way than modern books. The best that can be said for Dracula is that it accurately mimics long, over-detailed diary entries which would only be valuable to those who had written them or others interested in the information they contain. Dracula is not so much a story as a gathering of information.

The characters are realistic, as are their diaries and letters, but the story structure and language is not worthwhile. The most valuable part of this book is the inspiration it gave for later vampire stories. I rate this book 2/10.

Skin Game by Jim Butcher (Dresden Files #15)

This is the latest book in a series whose last few books have included dramatic ups and downs. Each book some small thing go right and many things get worse, which is good for the middle part of an overall story, but ultimately unsustainable. In this book, Harry is once again up against Nicodemus, except he also has to first team up with him or else be horribly killed by Mab for dishonoring her word.

My ultimate complaint is that too many things were left unanswered or unfinished. (Plus it’s been four years since this book was published and #16 is still not in evidence.) What is Nicodemus going to use his stolen treasure for? Dialogue at the end sets the book’s developments up as a win, but it felt like a loss, or a stalemate at best, which always seems to happen with Nicodemus. How many more books is he going to be the star villain in before he’s actually defeated?

After finishing the book, I didn’t understand the implications of the ending, which made it unsatisfying. I assume the four weapons will be significant when/if the next book arrives, but having no idea how they could be used, and even what some of them are, doesn’t lend much promise to that possibility.

That said, the middle of the book was very fun to read. Butcher continues to mix external description and internal understanding in a way that clearly leads the reader through each new development and it’s larger significance. Even in the middle of chaotic fight scenes it is easy to keep track of who is where, doing what, and why.

Most of my favorite characters surfaced in one way or another, and all of their relationships to one another continued to be deep, nuanced, and genuine. In previous books, I have complained that the characters didn’t develop enough, seemingly stuck in one condition. In this book, the opposite is true. Each character showed something new which completely jived with them as a person.

The characters in this book were a delight to read, but the ending lacked fulfillment. I rate this book 6/10.

Outline by Rachel Cusk

This book is not a cohesive narrative but a series of vignettes exploring the nature of love and marriage: what makes it last, or, more frequently, what doesn’t. The main character is herself recently divorced, and so the subject has gained new relevance for her, and spurred a desire in her to explore it.

The main character is on a journey–to Greece to teach–so the expectation that she will grow and change, broaden her horizons as a result of this travel, is set. However, her own part in the story is very small. She is of but slightly more importance than the framing devices used in old storytelling to explain why knowledge of events has made its way to the teller. She participates somewhat, but mostly as a passive enquirer, or by recollecting her own backstory which then becomes one of the many different stories told, and never the story. This was somewhat frustrating to me, as she was present just enough to keep me waiting for the moment when it would become her story.

With the expectation that the pieces will not build to something more, each vignette is interesting and well done. Together, they are a mosaic of tales expressing the folly inherent in the human endeavor to love. Love goes awry so frequently, and so simply, and yet we all continue, enthralled. All the characters, and the people they recounted knowing, were realistic and unique. Human.

Each separate section of this book was very well rendered, but it felt more like a collection of short stories than the novel it promised to be. I rate it 6/10.

Distant Star by Roberto Bolano

This novel reads like a primary source that a teacher might attach to a history lesson. It is filled with names and places and events, and the story line is as scattered and happenstance as might be expected from real life.

The writing style is matter of fact, dry, yet told from the first person. Some unnamed narrator loosely related to the events describes the life of one Carlos Wieder, who assumes uncounted pseudonyms in his writing and in person over his lifetime. Wieder is virtually unchanged throughout the novel: he performs unexpected feats of ‘poetry’ and brutality, and endeavors to set himself apart from and above others. The narrator’s distant relationship to Wieder means that no attempt to understand him beyond sorting the facts of his deeds from the rumors is ever done. He does not grow as a character from the moment is which he is first encountered. The overall impression is that this book is written for one already familiar with the legends of Wieder’s life. Outside of that, there isn’t much of a hook to draw the reader’s interest.

The events themselves build around the horrifying, but the actual horror is given so little notice within the story that it loses its power. The focus is mundane background connections and people. The overall effect is a very dry read, which never seems to reach the story moment. It is highly realistic, as a history book might be, but as fiction this is anything but interesting.

The language is very plain, and not in a poetic way. Sentences do nothing to compensate for the events chosen, nor to merit attention when the events are spectacular.

This book holds no real story, and no beauty to make up for the lack. I rate it 1/10.

A Man’s Head by Georges Simenon

This is a short detective story, but it starts with a prison escape. The opening is from the perspective of the convicted, so the audience is induced at once to care and subtly side with him, or at least be open to doing so.

The entire rest of the book follows the detective, Maigret, as he tries to determine if the convicted man is really guilty or has been framed. This twist on the usual detective story–seeing if a man has been framed when he’s already been convicted instead of before–is just one of the many ways in which Simenon re-enlivens the detective story. Many of the other ways involve spoilers, so you’ll just have to read the book to find out.

Maigret himself is a pretty standard detective figure: he is very smart, he puts things together to reveal and prove the identity of the criminal, and the reader only sees how he has done so when the criminal is caught and he explains it all. His best, and most unique, feature is his refusal to engage with the criminal who eggs him on. Seeing that the man wants acknowledgement of his wit, or at the very least a reaction, Maigret refuses to provide either and drives him to more and more telling moves.

The writing style of the book matches Maigret’s non-reaction. It is third person, close on Maigret, but detached, so that none of his emotions, or the emotions of anyone else, come through strongly. This takes the weight out of even the most dramatic moments. Events are shocking, but the writing is so matter of fact that any reaction of shock or emotion feels absurd. This detached style robs the story of some of the depth it could have held, especially factoring in the intense events relayed. Instead of an immersive, sympathetic experience, it was an intellectual exercise. The focus was kept on understanding who did what, and why, but not what such an experience was like.

The events in this book were very well crafted, but the writing style kept me from connecting with them in any but an intellectual way. I rate this book 5/10.