Another Perspective on All That Drama: Kiera Cass’s Selection Stories

Prince? Check. Young women vying to beat the shit out of each other for said prince? Check. National rebellion? Check. Difficult and slightly squee love triangle? Check. Am I talking about the latest in reality television, British edition? NO!

Recently (again, now that the long-winded Victorians appear to be behind me) I indulged in finally reading through Kiera Cass’s companion novel, The Selection Stories: The Prince and The Guard. Honestly, I didn’t really have high hopes for these, which is why I’d backburnered them. I sort of put reading them in the same category as Stephanie Meyer’s leaked Edward-narrated version of Twilight. Interesting, total brain candy, but nothing really beyond that.

Here’s where the two differ (and don’t get me wrong, cause I love me some Stephanie Meyers): this is actually a finished collection, reflected in the quality of the writing and the completeness of the selections presented. Sure, more could be written, but as companion pieces, they were enjoyable and certainly clarified some of the elements of the original, America told story, that seemed somewhat puzzling. (Like just how did Aspen get that note to America? And what was Maxon gonna do in the garden, if not make a pass at America?)

As with any given love triangle, there are certainly eye-roll-inducing moments, all the way around. Case in point: Really, Aspen, it didn’t occur to you that you actually really cared about America AND that she cared about you in return? And, Maxon, it never occurred to you that you might have some ladies participating in your selection who find the entire experience overwhelming? Or who might garner in-fighting to get a “leg up” on their competition?

But all in all, these companion pieces do just what companion pieces are intended to do: shed a little bit of additional light on a story that’s already loved and enjoyed enough that readers are interested in getting every little bit more about it that they can. If you’re a fan of the Selection series and have a spare afternoon, this one’s a super fast, super enjoyable read that helps offer a little clarity on the original.

Also, for those Selection fans out there, don’t forget that the next book in the series, The Heir, is out in a couple of weeks (!!!!) and the second companion book, Happily Ever After, is due out this fall.

Behold the Many Facets (and enjoy them, every one . . .): Amy Ewing’s The Jewel an Exciting New Series

Lies. Deceit. Traitors. Abuse. Power struggles. Murder. . .

And that’s just in the first half of the book! Amy Ewing’s The Jewel has bite; it grabs your attention, then defies you to try to put it down. We follow the perspective of Violet Lasting, a beautiful, talented, otherwise regular teenage girl, being trained to “perform” as  a surrogate for the wealthy families in the Jewel, the center of the walled island city where they live, set in a dystopic society. As a surrogate, she will be expected to bear a child for one of these distinguished families–whichever one bids the most for her. Once she’s purchased, she becomes chattle–property to be done with at the whims of the elegant woman who’s spent a king’s ransom on her. And with a newly birthed young prince in the mix, there is quite a competition for who the lucky future princess may be.

However, before this all comes to be, Violet’s faced with daily challenges. Her purchaser isn’t the most kindly of women; her family’s starving alone and without her; her best friend appears to be starving to death in the castle next door; she has no desire to become impregnated or to birth a child, especially for someone else; and then there’s the minor distraction of Ash, the dashing and friendly companion bought for the Lady’s niece. Add to this the possibility of an escape plan, as well as a ticking clock (who knows when it’s “time” to implant the embryo????) and the pages fly.

Building largely on Margaret Atwood’s classic The Handmaid’s Tale, along with Kiera Cass’s The Selection and maybe just a tiny touch of Suzanne Collins’s The Hunger Games for good measure, this story has a heartbeat of it’s own and is clearly the first book in a planned series, ending in a cliffhanger.

While there are some aspects of Violet that I’m not a huge fan of, by and large she’s a believable and sympathy-worthy character: she’s a young, enormously talented, woman caught in a crap situation from which there is no escape. However, at times she’s a frustrating narrator. She chooses odd moments to decide to be petulant, while at other inopportune times somehow forgetting to speak. All in all this isn’t the end of the world, but I have some trouble believing that someone who has had the insight of seeing how the poorest members of the city live wouldn’t, for example, wish to know more about the whims/wishes/life of her one friend, her maid, and who would consider it acceptable to throw a temper tantrum and destroy expensive furniture and gowns.

Despite these inconsistencies, Violet’s an intriguing perspective, who in many ways reminds me of America from The Selection, though with less chutzpah. I’ll certainly be keeping my peepers peeped for the next book in this series, if for no other reason than to see how Garnet might possibly “save” Violet from her cliffhanger dilemma.

Anyone else out there have a chance to read this one? Thoughts?

Before You Make A Deal With The Devil, Check Out Ann Aguirre’s Mortal Danger

So, be honest–we’ve all been there at some point in time. That jerk–you know the one I mean–just won’t have off and leave you alone. And because, for some inexplicable reason, the rest of the school actually cares what this idiot thinks, now all the sheep following their lead are joining in. . . and turning what was a one or two class period joke into full-time torture.

Ok, so hopefully (and I do mean that truthfully!) no one’s really experienced bullying to that extreme a level. However, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Regularly. All the time. I’m sufficiently old enough to be able to confess honestly myself that, when bullied in school, I would speak to teachers and even Vice Principals and Principals about what was happening, asking for help dealing with it. What was their response? Just ignore them–bullying’s a part of growing up, and  you just have to learn to deal with it.

Thankfully, my understanding is that people have become smarter and more savvy to this issue, and as a result they’re realizing that quietly waiting for kids to change their minds/get distracted with someone else isn’t enough to fix the problem. And doesn’t stop the danger to the person who’s the center of attention. Enter Edith or Edie of, as her sensitive peers put it, “Eat-it”, in Ann Aguirre’s Mortal Danger. She’s unattractive, overweight, socially inept, friendless, and generally prefers to just keep to herself. What’s more, she’s not the standard platinum-card-platinum-blond lining the halls of her fancy private school in Boston–her parents are mere mortals themselves, as professors at area universities.

We open the story with Edie deciding that enough is enough: she walks defeated, she talks defeated, she acts defeated–but for at least an understandable reason (we don’t learn what that reason is exactly until later in the story, and while I’m a spoiler usually, I’m saving it because a) it’s worth reading, b) it’s pretty horrible, and c) I’m curious whether other people found this to be as bad as I did). At the moment she’s planned for–not taking her SATs (no point if you’re not going to be around for college, right?), not preparing for a summer smart kids camp (ditto), she heads to her bridge of choice and. . .

Meets a really hot guy who convinces her to stop. Kian, a representative of a group he doesn’t really explain or define, is willing to help her through this difficult time with three wishes. Her payment? She has to agree to the life that his agency expects of her: either she’s going to create the greatness that they want to see happen in the world (but won’t tell her what this greatness is) or she has to continue to work in a position like Kian’s, a representative of the group reaching out to other people “in extremis,” or (basically) at wit’s end.

Edie’s one smart cookie, but as she continues through the plot of the story, she demonstrates an interesting and unique character intelligence and sensitivity that we don’t see in other YA Lit heroines. She’s somewhat street savvy a la Katniss, but far more worldly and political. However, not a political as, say, June of Lu’s Legend fame. She’s *a lot* smarter than Bella of Twilight and even America of Cass’s Selection series. Personality-wise, she has an initial tendency to fall in the more prickly category, somewhat reminiscent of Katniss/Divergent‘s Beatrice. But she seems far more justified in her over-defensiveness.

What I Liked About It:

1. It’s a unique story with an interesting take on the idea of one trading their soul in exchange for immediate relief from whatever their current ailment is. I’m not sure what the original of this story is called, but have read stories of essentially the same ilk from all over the world. I think what it most reminded me of (and indeed, there are several references scattered throughout the text to it, is W.W. Jacobs’s The Monkey’s Paw, in which a generally contented older couple get ahold of a monkey’s paw that supposedly grants wishes. However, for each wish that’s granted, a) it never turns out the way that the wishers had intended, b) there is always something paid (usually negative) in exchange, and c) it ends up being more of a curse than a smiling fairy godmother in disguise.

2. I liked Edie and, although she does make a few stupid decisions, by no means falls into the category of supposedly uber smart protagonist who just happens to always make stupid decisions. Plus, her struggles are issues that both teens and adults face today, in such an appearance-driven society.

3. There is a clear message from the author. I’m not going to ruin it (again, I’m trying not to spoil!) but the fact that there’s one at all makes this unique from a number of other books I’ve been reading lately. . .

4. The characters are deliciously complex. This is an area that YA Lit has really taken criticism (a lot of it appropriate) for. It’s not that there aren’t occasional surprises presented by YA authors, but anything more that those surprises are few and far between. What’s more, they’re not enough to create dynamic characters. Every character presented in this book–and I mean that literally–is complex, dynamic, and builds an interesting cast for this story.

5. It is a cliffhanger, but I want to know where it’s going to go. My understanding is that this is book one of a series (The Immortal Games), and the ending reads that way. I like that the book ended without everything neatly tied with a ribbon; without every issue resolved, but also without my feeling that everything had been left wide open and completely unresolved, negating the work that went into the reading of this book. I tend to get really annoyed with authors who build to complete non-endings because they want to make sure you have to read the next book to get any closure. Aguirre’s been around this block a few times, and her knowledge of it is clear and appreciated.

What Could Use Improvement:

1. Holy crapcakes, but this is a long book! Tiny font, packed into a LOT of dense pages means that, good writing or no, it’s going to take a large chunk of time to get through! (If you’re wondering about my writing hiatus, I fully blame Aguirre! 🙂 ) But beyond it’s being long, it doesn’t feel like it needs to be. Yes, we’re building characters, scene, complexity, etc, but man–do we really need this much?

2. There are a few characters that I don’t understand/trust. Kian is actually one of them, and I sense that this is intentional on the part of the author, based on Edie’s own switching of her mind. But I did find that this was kind of frustrating, especially in light of the fact that without him, Edie’s still lost in what’s happening to her and the fact that none of her wishes is really turning out the way it was planned.

3. Edie references the importance of her summer pal Vi repeatedly, but it’s hard to see how this character is so important to her that she spends one of her wishes on her. I know, I know–cold and heartless, I am–but despite the writing up of this ensemble cast, I still didn’t see how that could be the case.

4. Totally not buying that her parents would believe/accept that she had so drastically and completely changed her appearance during summer at math camp. Seriously? Based on her own description, she’d need some pretty serious plastic surgery to end up the way she did. I had a lot of trouble swallowing that, even if they were distanced parents.

5. There are a number of events that happen at Edie’s school that seem fairly unbelievable. Yes, it’s fiction–and YA horror at that–but still. I have to assume more of these wealthy parents would be concerned when one kid after another turned up dead, missing, deformed, etc.

Overall, this was an admittedly lengthy but page-turning read. If you’re looking for something to savor slowly, this is an interesting one, and a read that you’ll keep thinking about. The themes are classic: revenge, love, hope, trust . . . but they’re all turned upside down by the context and the possibilities that Edie’s presented with. Topped with a highly intelligent and savvy protagonist, and sprinkled with thrills and chills along the way, this is a very interesting read!

What did you think? Anyone read this and have comparisons to make?

Cyborgs, Androids and one Very Charming Prince: Marissa Meyer’s Cinder

Who out there doesn’t love a great retelling of a classic fairy tale story? I, for one, seem to never quite get enough–especially when the premise is sufficiently different enough to keep the pages turning, hoping (but not really knowing) how closely the author will choose to follow the traditional text. Pair this with well-written, interesting characters doing cool stuff, and you’ve got a fantastic book. Or, as everything today seems to be being serialized, a new series.

That said, I adored Marissa Meyer’s Cinder, which is the first book in her Lunar Chronicles series. Set in a future time in an Asian-inspired area of the world, we follow part-human, part-machine cyborg Cinder, a respected teen mechanic/engineer, as she is abused by her stepmother and one of her two stepsisters, faces a deadly pandemic, meets the crown Prince, loses a friend and tries to save the world. Her android, Iko, is her one trusted and faithful companion–sort of a like a pet with a personality. But in this tale, Cinder’s no helpless house cleaner singing with the birds: she’s a smart, sassy character with a good eye for repairing electronics, an addictive personality and a big blank hole for a memory of life before becoming “the ward” of her stepmother.

What’s more, this Cinder doesn’t sit around feeling sorry for herself and mooning over a prince. In fact, she’s got so many other life or death events happening around her that she’d be crazy to! With a nasty plague sweeping their city–New Beijing–leaving thousands of dead in it’s wake and taking no prisoners, she’s horrified at the consequences of what it does to her family. (Ahem. I’m trying really, really hard to not spoil this. If I do, my sincere apologies. You should still read the book, though).

Crown Prince Kaito sweeps into her repair stall at the beginning of the book with an older android in need of a tuning, setting the wheels in motion of their awkward acquaintanceship. Through a series of accidents, they keep running into each other. But the relationship between them feels more true and (dare I say?) real than any fairy tale take. While this prince is every bit as dashing as any Disney hero, and certainly more humane than any classic fairy tale royalty, here’s the clencher: he’s fallible. He makes mistakes, admits them, has a personality, is alive and kicking and breathing on the pages. Same too with this Cinder: she’s more loyal than any Disney princess, more human that any fairy tale heroine, but oh so realistically riddled with unanswered questions, hopes, dreams, personality. And she’s fallible. Vulnerable. Interesting.

The story progresses by complicating the plot with a coronation, a Lunar Queen’s most highly dreaded visit, a Doctor who functions partially as a very odd and awkward fairy godfather, and above and beyond all else: hope.

What I Liked:

I know I keep harping on it, but after several disappointments recently, I found the characters here to be amazing. Dynamic, well-written, interesting. Not always predictable, and though the riff on a fairy tale leaves some aspects unsurprising, never did I feel like I knew for sure what was going to happen.

The plot flies along: this author is a master of blending emotion, dialogue, action and reflection. I’m listening already to the next book in the series, and I continue to be amazed at her writing.

The setting, much like the classic stories the author riffs on (the next books in the series play with “Little Red Riding Hood” and “Rapunzel”), is similar enough to what we know to make it a familiar friend, but sufficiently changed enough to make this story timeless and new. Plus, it’s great to read a YA book NOT set in a) America, b) Europe, or c) some completely separate breakdown of the same continents.

I loved how the author was able to bring in classic (Chinese?) symbolism: this is something most certainly lost in YA Lit, unless it’s related to witches or some such. The last such effort I think I’ve seen towards trying to embed some element of symbolic definition was in Cate Tiernan’s Sweep series (yes, I’m still reading it–it’s a long series!). And though I adore Ms. Tiernan’s writing and stories, my goodness does Ms. Meyer do an outstanding job of weaving it all together!

What I Didn’t Like:

Hm. That it ended?

I think perhaps I might have enjoyed a little more explanation as to why this society abhors cyborgs to such a great extent, but that really wasn’t necessary, it would simply be gratuitous, as the reasons behind it seem to slowly unravel the more you read. This is truly a fabulous YA book.

For those of you who have read previous posts of mine, allow me to run a comparison here: I was as excited about reading this as I was reading Kiera Cass’s The Selection Series, which was another Cinderella-esque YA series. I absolutely couldn’t put those books down–in fact, I had to run to the store and buy the remaining ones because I didn’t even have the patience to get them at the library! I feel the same way with this series: I have already downloaded the remaining books in the series on Audible, and as I see that there are shorter companion books to the series, well, I’ll be purchasing those, as well.

Though I do find Ms. Meyer’s spin on the tale to be wholly unique–androids, cyborgs, space shuttles, oh my!–it’s not a sci-fi story, either. (I’m not a fan of sci-fi generally, though Peter Clines is really working hard to change my mind on that). I would like to provide a comparison, but though there are a number of stories out there that are similar in smaller aspects, I can’t think of any one that would be spot on. If you’re waffling on what to read next, though, this is totally worth your time!

Anyone else out there had the chance to read Cinder or the rest of the Lunar Chronicles? Any comparisons that you found were accurate for this one?

A Stronger Female Archetype in YA Lit: The Selection Series by Kiera Cass

 

Just when I thought I’d seen a little bit of everything YA had to offer. . . along came The Selection series by Kiera Cass. This fast-read is Hunger Games meets Cinderella, reality tv style. Think The Bachelor, except set in dystopic, post-WW4 American-ish remains. In this re-imagined world, the former USA is splintered, ruled by a monarchy, and the people split into a caste system: the most elite being in the top caste, and the others trickling down. Our protagonist, America Singer (yes, that’s her name–I’m not making this up), is of a lower caste–a Five, which is the caste of musicians and artists–and while she’s content with accepting her lot in the lower end of society, her family is not. Nor is her lower caste boyfriend, Aspen, a Six. When she receives notice of her eligibility to participate in The Selection–basically a contest between selected women to win the affections of the newly-of-age Prince Maxon’s fancy–both her family and Aspen not only encourage her to participate, but twist her arm to get her to apply. The shenanigans that ensue are nothing short of reality tv worthy (but I’m trying really hard not to spoil it).

I guess I should put it this way: I was able to get the first book in the series from the library Friday. I started reading it Friday afternoon, and then spent Saturday running around town to get the rest of them! Thus far, they’re amazing, and definitely interesting, brain candy.

Now, from a more intellectual perspective rather than the gushing teenager-in-me perspective, here’s what made the protagonist winning (so far–I’m only in book 2): she’s not making stupid decisions. She comes close a few times, and there’s a few cringe-worthy moments along the way, but by and large, I can understand what she’s doing and why. For some reason, many of the protagonists in YA lit seem to have difficulty with logic in thinking through the long-term implications of their decisions. I know, I know: they’re teenagers! Cut them some slack. . . right? Well, kind of. But does that then mean that all female teenagers are young and dumb? Does it have to be that all of them are unable to see past what they want in the immediate? I find that a difficult pill to swallow; indeed, I find that an impossible pill to swallow. 

That’s not to say that America is perfect. She’s not. And especially in her romance decisions with Aspen . . . well, there are moments. But she sees the need to do things she doesn’t want to do on both the micro (long-term benefits to herself or her loved ones) and the macro (potential to change the way things are happening for other people around the country, in other castes). In many ways, this left her reminiscent of the beloved Katniss Everdeen, except without being quite so abrasive of personality. Let me put it this way: if Katniss is a hard cup of black coffee, America is an espresso with light cream. Not lesser in power, but more refined in style and smoother to swallow. At the same time, I found that she is (at least thus far, and my fingers are crossed that she continues to be so) nowhere near as naive as, say, a classic Bella of Twilight fame or even Luce of the Fallen series. At the same time, she lacks the cocky self-assuredness of Legend‘s June, though she is infinitely more confident in her decisions than Divergent‘s Trice. In all, she’s a unique beast. Yes, she’s dealing with the done-over-and-over love triangle, but isn’t that part of what makes YA lit just that: young adult literature? 

I guess the question fluttering around in my mind is this: What do you think about these female archetypes that seem to be clearly and rapidly developing in YA Lit? And have you had the chance to pick up The Selection? My understanding is that it’s twice been optioned for a tv series, but not once actually succeeded. Maybe Hollywood will listen to the prayers of little bloggers/avid readers and consider doing this series justice . . . ?