Category: Book Reviews

As you all may know by now, I love October. It’s an amazing month to me because the temperature goes down, the leaves change from green to golds and reds, and Halloween is right around the corner. Halloween is, by far, my favorite holiday. Christmas and Thanksgiving are awesome in their own ways, but they aren’t on the same level as Halloween. You can dress up as anything you’d like, so if there’s a dream you never got to fulfill, for just one night out of the year, you can live out that fantasy. Kids get to run around and go to strangers’ homes to get free candy, and adults, ranging from 20 to 40, are most likely at a friend’s house or a club drinking the night away. October and Halloween are a time for horror and things that go bump in the night, which brings me to the topic of this post: “The Adventure of the German Student” by Washington Irving. I thought it would be more appropriate to review a ghost/scary story for this spook-takular part of the year.

“The Adventure of the German Student” is about a young man named Gottfried Wolfgang who is likely suffering from depression, and his friends send him to Paris during the French Revolution. Not really the greatest time or place for a person who has a “melancholy temperament” to be, but kudos to his friends for trying to help. To be quite honest, the story really isn’t scary. In fact, it doesn’t even border on creepy – the baby version of scary. It’s more like a funny ghost story. I don’t know what was Irving’s purpose in creating the story, but I still enjoyed it in some way. While I didn’t like how Wolfgang’s story ended, I like the actual end of the work. It kind of left me with the questions: Who the man was talking to? and Who was the narrator of the story?

I think Irving’s “The Adventure of the German Student” is a perfect story to tell to kids because it’s not meant to be scary in my opinion. It’s given a dark history and backdrop, but when you actually get into the story, the atmosphere lightens up. Wolfgang has become so melancholic that he’s become fascinated by this strange beauty that haunts his dreams, and suddenly he meets her. Absolutely nothing about would scare a child unless they were still in that stage where they think girls or guys are icky. But besides that, it’s perfect to read to a group of kids around a little fire while they roast marshmallows and make smores. As an official rating, I give the story five jack o’lanterns out of five jack o’lanterns for children, and one rotten jack o’lantern out of five jack o’lanterns for anyone else who decides to read it. I do encourage you to read it though to find out what happens to Gottfried and his mysterious beauty!

When I first heard that one of my favorite authors, Marissa Meyer, was writing a new series based on superheroes, I was enthralled to learn about what her book would do to the superhero scene. And when it finally came out, I was practically enthralled to get my hands on the first copy that I could. And as soon as I dived in, I knew that she had once again created a masterpiece.

“Renegades” is a book about a girl named Nova, who has been raised by a group of villains who all have extraordinary powers. Years ago, prodigies ruled the earth, and their powers led to a massive power shift- all of the strongest prodigies overthrew the government and began to rule the population. Years later, a group of prodigies rose up to overthrow this power structure; they killed the man in charge and began to rebuild society. The villains, including Nova, have a loathing for the hero prodigies, because they left the world without a main power structure and the normal people of society depended on them for everything that they needed. The villains create a plan to place Nova into the group of prodigies as a spy, working to usurp their power structure from the inside out.

Nova joins a smaller division of superheroes who work under the main governing heroes. The main heroes are Sketch, aka Adrian Everhart, who is the adopted sons of the two most powerful superheroes in the city, with his powers allowing him to bring life to whatever he draws; Smokescreen, aka Oscar Silva, who is able to keep up with the rest of the team even though he is slightly crippled in his leg; and Red Assassin, aka Ruby Tucker, a girl who bleeds rubies and can create her own weapons out of them. She takes up the persona under Insomnia, because her powers allow her to stay awake for hours on end with no side effects; she does keep secret the fact that she can channel her powers to make whoever is touching her fall to sleep, a power she uses under her villainous persona of Nightmare.

There are several things within the novel that I found very intriguing and interesting. First, I was very pleased to hear that two of the more important heroes in the book are in a homosexual relationship. I was extremely happy when I discovered the relationship between the two and how it was treated. They’ve even adopted the child of one of the deceased members of the original superhero team. I was also extremely glad that homophobia wasn’t a main plot point or an antagonistic force- no one treats them any differently than anyone else. This sort of treatment is very refreshing within the literary sphere, and it was definitely something that strengthened the overall story and made it feel more believable.

Secondly, while reading, I was afraid that this book would take to the tropes that many works of fiction would take: that she would fall in love with one of the main heroes and become reformed to the good side. But (as far as the first book is concerned) this doesn’t seem to be the case. Nova continues to work for the villains, and never seems to forget the goal that she has. She appreciates the team, of course, but she doesn’t particularly care if they are hurt while she is acting out a more villainous role. I appreciate that Meyer didn’t take the stereotypical route with Nova’s story arch; if anything, her time with the heroes push her further to work against them.

Third, I very much enjoy how Adrian uses his powers. Because his drawings come to life, he decides to try something new: he gives himself tattoos that give him extra powers. His intentions matter when he creates the tattoos, and thus he is able to give himself new abilities. For instance, he has created tattoos that give him armor from his own body, springs on his feet for extra jumping strength. and the power to summon fire from his hands. He keeps all of these abilities secret from everyone, and begins to go on missions on his own.

This is another thing that impressed me: the superheroes didn’t always stick to the status quo. There are many times when the smaller teams of heroes who decide to do things their own way. Many of the heroes constantly harass the villains, or go against direct orders, especially Adrain when he begins to give himself his own powers. I find this concept intriguing, and it gives more depth to the overall story.

Right now, two of the three books in the trilogy are out on the market, with the third already taking pre-orders and is expected to come out in November. I still need to read the second book, but if anything can be taken out of this, I am extremely excited to read the second book to be ready for the third and final installment.

How do I even begin this blog? I’ve been reading this book for about a week and I finished it to day. I nearly fainted at the end over how good it was. I have this habit of reading unnaturally fast when the climax is happening, and this entire book is one giant climax. I couldn’t take my eyes off the page.

It begins with people disappearing (hence the title) and all that is left is kids the age fourteen and younger. There is a dome over their entire town, as if they had been shoved into an egg. They spend the entire novel trying to figure out why, but also while fighting other problems.

So as the story progresses, the reader begins to realize that there are mutations happening not only in animals but in humans. The reason for this is that they live next to a radioactivity research plant that fifteen years prior had blown up and radiation had seeped into the earth. The officials of the town had tried to cover up what had happened and never did a major clean up.

Anyways, these kids are left here. It is absolute chaos. No one knows where to go or what to do or who is in charge. Everyone begins to look towards the main character Sam for answers. He had been a part of the mutations, that at this point in the story no one knew about. He could control concentrated light so powerful it can burn holes through thick concrete.

Kids from the private school, Coates, begin to come down to Perido Beach. The explain to the kids there that they have begun to run out of food and think they should all work together. Caine is the leader of them all. At first all is well, until Caine takes over. He has the power to move matter. He has mastered his ability, unlike Sam, who can only use it when he is afraid.

Caine begins his all powerful reign. It isn’t until a young girl named Bette is killed by a bully that Caine commanded to beat people that Sam decides he needs to step up an do something.

Sam and his group of misfits leave Perido Beach while running from Caine and his goons. They meet a girl in the dessert  who has the ability to heal people with just the touch of her hands. She comes in handy after this encounter, however, she brings trouble with her. Coyotes have mutates and are after her. The Pack Leader has the ability to make words aloud, but I wouldn’t say he can talk. He can croak broken sentences. He says that the healer must teach him. The Darkness told him to.

The plot thickens after recieving word about “The Darkness.” who is that? Are they the reason they are here? I’m not sure because it isn’t answered in this first book.

Anyways, as it turns out Caine and Sam were twin brothers, which is why they are both so powerful. We still don’t know who their father is, but I imagine that will become a bif part of the story. Sam defeats Caine, but lets him live for SOME reason. They defeated the big “poof” which is what they call it when your fifteenth birthday occurs and you disappear. A person from your past appears to you and tries to take you away wilingly, but it turns out that it isn’t a person at all, but it is the darkness. The book ends with Caine seeking out the darkness. So, maybe after this next book I will figure it out and be able to let you guys know what that is

SPOILERS AHEAD.

Where Things Come Back by John Corey Whaley has so far been one of the strangest books I have ever read. Cullen Witter, a boy from small town Lily, Alabama begins telling this story by identifying his cousin’s dead body. Goes home, barely mourns, talks about how dumb his cousin was, and sleeps next to his little brother, Grabriel, who he admires for being able to be himself when Cullen remains awkward and self-deprecating.

His best friend, Lucas Cader is the total opposite. He is charming and popular. Everyone likes him and knows him. The reason Lucas is friends with Cullen is, in his words, “because they just are.” They are a very strange pair, and since Lucas’s older brother died in a car accident, he is very attached to Gabriel as well and kind of resides as another older, more protective brother for him.

There is also Ada Taylor, who is a Black Widow. Both of her boyfriends has died, and in the beginning she’s dating the bully, jock guy who she later leaves. Right after she leaves, he is an accident that leaves him paralyzed. Still, Cullen is “in love” with her. Weird.

So basically, a dude comes to Lily and see’s this woodpecker that is supposed to be extinct, and then the whole town goes crazy. It’s discussed that this is the first exciting thing to happen in the town in ages and it’s a symbol of hope. It almost becomes an obsession for everyone. Then, out of no where, Gabriel disappears. Reports go out, the family is falling apart. Lucas borderline starts losing his mind. A fifteen year old boy just disappears out of thin air. Cullen convinces himself that he’s dead. It’s a whole mess, but I notice that Cullen disassociates a lot. When something big is happening, like a spirit guide making them dig 10-feet under ground because she is convinced that Gabriel is dead and is buried in this certain spot, he begins to imagine the spirit guide performing a ritual that makes his brother appear covered in mud and blood. Or imagines bullies as zombies and him as a slayer or something. He is very… Creative.

Cullen has also went from messing around with a 19 year old who is in the middle of a divorce, and then she breaks up with her because it gets too serious (Dudes). All the while Lucas is in a very committed long-term relationship with this girl named Molly.

Then guess what, Ada Taylor and Cullen get together! Woah. Who saw that coming? okay literally, that was the only part in this book so far that was predictable, and that’s okay because everything else still has me puzzled.

At this point, I’m a little over half way done, but I have no clue what to expect next. It’s all so strange, and it carries this erry nostalgic anxiety to it. I really hope they find out what happened to Gabriel. I also want to know what is up with this woodpecker, is it real? Did that dude just claim to see it for fame? Is Cullen going to die now that he has bee with The Ada Taylor? I don’t know, but the author has me stumped and pumped to see where this goes.

Okay, so it’s like title says, I really really want to write like this one poet, Rachel Calnek Sugin. Recently I asked my senior, Katie, what some good poets are she recommended me a set of poems that won a prize. She had actually read one at a coffee house once. I remember taking a liking to the poem, “Ebola in Dallas:, but I didn’t ask what it was.

When I got her poetry recommendation, I went through each one individually and eventually found this poetry collection of sorts. I’m not sure if they all are supposed to go together as a set, but they all three won an award together, so I will be reviewing them together. Here is the link if you would like to read along with me. If you don’t read this review, I would at LEAST read the poems themselves. There is something so magical about them. Link to Collection

The first one is the famous,

Ebola in Dallas

To start off with this one, I just want to mention how vividly I remember the Ebola outbreak. I was in middle school, and being the anxious person I am, I was terrified of it. I was cuddled up in a comforter on my brown living room couch, and I felt paralyzed with fear. My grandparents live in Houston, and just like the poem states a lot, Dallas isn’t too far off. An otherworldly problem suddenly became one extremely close to home.

Besides my own personal connection to the poem itself, I love how the author picks apart the privilege that a lot of Americans possess. It takes a lot of guts to call out your own privilege in a piece of writing.

The repetition of ideas, like the dying baby, brought a lot to the poem, It not only makes the reader sympathize, but also empathize. It becomes a poem that isn’t just about a child dying of Ebola, but it twists it into one that is themselves or their child dying of Ebola.

At Thurgood Marshall

Living in the south, this one makes a lot of sense to me, especially being a white girl of privilege.

To recap the poem, this girl is taking the ACT at a school that isn’t their own, up in Harlem. For those who don’t know, Harlem is usually thought of an extremely unsafe neighborhood, and most even think of it is a majority African-american neighborhood.

So the tone of this poem is morphed into an uncomfortableness, not because she feels unsafe, but she feels out of place. It isn’t hard to pick up that she is obviously well-off while others are not. I love how they paint this with the dialogue. She is asked where she goes to school, and it recounts how she is ashamed to say that she goes to a school where there are smart boards in every class and that has a college attendance rate of 100%. The other kids in the class have to ask for a calculator, assumed to be because they cannot afford one.

I even think its interesting how she is aware of her own unconscious bias within the poem. Again, I think its commendable to point out ones own flaws, and want to change them.

When My Go Out I Eat Breakfast For Dinner and Pee With the Door Open

This.

I just am utterly speechless every time I read this. This is by far my favorite in the collection. For one, the title. It doesn’t obviously have to do with the contents of the poem, but it makes me think of my own teenage life, which is a theme throughout the poem.

Again, the author points out her own flaws and hypocrisy, which is adds so much depth.

I also enjoy how she recounts her life and separate memories that wouldn’t seem like they have much to do with another, but she makes them all flow into each other. Its truly just flawless.

To wrap it up as a poem without spoiling too many specifics, the ending is done so well because of how she wraps everything back, and even makes the ending line a new punch. It made me think back to the poem, and brought a completely new element.

All in all, this collection is stunning, and I might just frame it for my dorm room.

Many people knew the late Tupac Shakur as a legend – one of the original kings of rap. He inspired many people of his time of glory and fame to express themselves through rap and speak their truths with words. His words touched the hearts of artists and non-artists and people like The Hate U Give‘s author, Angie Thomas. He was the Tupac. Though he was musically poetic, there are those who aren’t familiar with his literary works and if they are, they only know about The Rose That Grew From Concrete, the poem; however, The Rose That Grew From Concrete is not just a poem. It is an autobiographical poetry collection filled with descriptors and analogical words that en-captured Tupac Shakur as the man that he was – the man he wanted the world to see. 

One tactic that is seen throughout his poetry is embedded in the language used throughout the collection. In fact, it isn’t hard to find. It’s in plain sight, hiding no secrets from the reader. It was a way of being raw and showing the audience that he had nothing to hide from them. This was his heart on paper – in words. Tupac used what we call today “texting slang”. Of course, that would not be the first thing I’d say about his writing scheme while talking to another about the work at hand. However, a lot of the language is shorthand. He used letters and numbers like ‘u’ and ‘2’ for ‘you’ and ‘to’. It was very simplistic. Although, I do believe he purposely wrote in that way to emphasize the underlying message and the power behind it. His words showed that even if you don’t speak in big words and fancy phrases doesn’t mean you don’t have power in your words. You just have to listen and pay attention regardless of speech or education or your background.

Another genius tactic that Tupac utilized was the length of his poetry. Most of his poems are under a minute long and a lot of the time he wrote in one brief stanza. In doing so, he gives the reader a longer opportunity to let the words sink in. An example of such from the collection is his poem What of Fame?. The poem is three lines long and he uses little capitalization. The words are brief and short. However, after even the first read, the reader gets an “ahh” moment. The words are short and simple but the many meanings that it carries gives the words baggage, making them heavy on the tongue, heart, and mind. The shortness of the poems overall could also be interpreted as the shortness life holds. Nearly all of Tupac’s poems addressed the baggage of life and what it was like to live in his shoes. He spoke the pain of life. In doing so, he added to the pain of life by providing the shortness of it in his words and stanzas. Brief, but heavy. 

Tupac wanted to touch the hearts of many in this poetry collection. He was raw and allowed himself to spill his guts to those who dared to read. It is safe to say that any reader of this collection should be grateful to have read art. There is no recreation to his work – it stands alone. It stands tall and though short, they carry more heaviness and baggage than most people could imagine their lives having. That was the life of Tupac Shakur. 

 

Florist is a band that makes three minute existential crises instead of music.

One of their songs, “The Fear of Losing This”, well-I’m actually losing my mind over it, even though the lyrics are intensely mundane. It’s something about how they fit the words with these strange vocals and background noises, it gets to me. Here’s the lyrics:

Open your eyes
And see what you have
But really I know inside it’s all the same in death
But my mind is mine for now

I never asked
To be here at all
So why do I have to face the fear of losing it?
Of losing why I live?

And if I just knew
I’d already be gone
I told you everything
That I had the chance to
And there is no more now
No more light golden low
There is only what I have
Until that goes

Now every night
I pray to the stars
I say please give me love
Or please just give me strength

The colors of love
They all become gray
When everywhere I’ve been
Won’t be there someday
It’s a beautiful thing
That I keep close to me
And I won’t forget
But nothing is mine to keep

 

Okay, so I am reading back over these lyrics, and they sound not only simple, but saddening. Slack. Slack is how I feel about this song when it’s put on paper like this.

However, I urge you to listen to it. It’s so different as music. It’s almost happy, or at least a questioning happy that I can attempt to call wholesome.

The song is the equivalent of laying down on a beach and waking to be a thousand feet from shore, choking on all of the water you didn’t notice until your eyes were opened. At least, that is what it makes me think of.

I did some background research on Florist, and turns out, they call themselves a “friendship project” rather than whatever they are supposed to be titled as. A band? God and a few angels? Who knows.

Florist is unusually unheard of, which only further prompts me to crave their lyrics. Not everyone has washed them down to “another sad indie band yet”. They still have time before they become mainstream and either fade from existence and cease to produce music or all together begin making music for mainstream kids, which would ultimately be worse. (This sounds quite pretentious, but I don’t mean for it to. What I am saying is that making this a “mainstream band” would take away from the secrecy in their songs, or whatever.) I really, truly would rather Florist stop making music than produce songs like Drake’s “God’s Plan” or Panic at the Disco’s newer music (these are just the examples that are easily found in my brain right now).

These are my favorite lyrics:

I never asked
To be here at all
So why do I have to face the fear of losing it?
Of losing why I live?

Scary stuff. What a strange way of thinking about this life, right?

“The Fear of Losing This” hurts my feelings unlike any other song I have discovered. It makes me even question the comfort I find in the lyrics, as they are generally not the type of optimist/nihilist approach I would route myself into. But yeah, interesting song. You guys should definitely check it out.

 

 

 

In honor of the first day of spring, here are three very important Mary Oliver pieces that remind me of spring and summer, or the feeling of warmness, wholeness in general.

Also, I’ve just been generally more inspired when I read warm-toned poems, mostly because I believe I just have “seasonal depression” and not “Depression depression”. These just make me feel better about myself and the world, and who doesn’t need more of that feeling in their life?

BREAKAGE

I go down to the edge of the sea.
How everything shines in the morning light!
The cusp of the whelk,
the broken cupboard of the clam,
the opened, blue mussels,
moon snails, pale pink and barnacle scarred—
and nothing at all whole or shut, but tattered, split,
dropped by the gulls onto the gray rocks and all the moisture gone.
It’s like a schoolhouse
of little words,
thousands of words.
First you figure out what each one means by itself,
the jingle, the periwinkle, the scallop
full of moonlight.

Then you begin, slowly, to read the whole story.

 

I wanted to start with going over his piece because it seems like the first page of a new book. It’s really fresh, especially the way she uses her description. I like the word “cusp”, the phrase “broken cupboard” when describing a clam ,and “scarred” when describing a barnacle.

It amazes me how she can take her observations and not only write them beautifully, but give a lesson or sixth-feeling to you when exploring those observations.

This poem makes me feel: warm, like a full belly of strawberries.

 

A DREAM OF TREES

There is a thing in me that dreamed of trees,
A quiet house, some green and modest acres
A little way from every troubling town,
A little way from factories, schools, laments.
I would have time, I thought, and time to spare,
With only streams and birds for company,
To build out of my life a few wild stanzas.
And then it came to me, that so was death,
A little way away from everywhere.
There is a thing in me still dreams of trees.
But let it go. Homesick for moderation,
Half the world’s artists shrink or fall away.
If any find solution, let him tell it.
Meanwhile I bend my heart toward lamentation
Where, as the times implore our true involvement,
The blades of every crisis point the way.

I would it were not so, but so it is.
Who ever made music of a mild day?

This poem really struck me after I read the line,”homesick for moderation.” When you look up the definition of moderation, it is the idea that you want to stay away from extremes and stick to something usual and relaxing, or normal. The idea that too much of a good thing is a bad one.

I also like the fact she will be “bending towards lament” while the “artists of the world” look for a solution to not falling away.

The idea of falling away of an artist strikes a cord with me. As artists we like to create and expand our creations into the public surface, but sometimes, reality hits us and we forget our “dream of trees.” I don’t know, that’s just how it made me feel.

 

OF LOVE

I have been in love more times than one,
thank the Lord. Sometimes it was lasting
whether active or not. Sometimes
it was all but ephemeral, maybe only
an afternoon, but not less real for that.
They stay in my mind, these beautiful people,
or anyway people beautiful to me, of which
there are so many. You, and you, and you,
whom I had the fortune to meet, or maybe
missed. Love, love, love it was the
core of my life, from which, of course, comes
the word for the heart. And, oh, have I mentioned
that some of them were men and some were women
and some—now carry my revelation with you–
were trees. Or places. Or music flying above
the names of their makers. Or clouds, or the sun
which was the first, and the best, and the most
loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into
my eyes, every morning. So I imagine
such love of the world–its fervency, its shining, its
innocence and hunger to give of itself–I imagine
this is how it began.

-Mary Oliver

I wanted to end on this poem because it felt like the epitome of how I look at the world. I thought it was really interesting seeing how Mary Oliver specifically loves, as she is one of the most loving artists of both the world and of people that I have discovered.

It was also interesting how she specifically says that she is grateful for multiple, and short loves. It makes me kind of rethink how I ought to be loved, or how I should love others in general. This poem makes me feel temporary.