An Aussie Picture Book “Five Things I’ve Learned Review”: Australia To Z…

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imageIf you’re getting bored with the ordinary old alphabet picture book format and you yearn for an alphabet book that really says something about its subject, allow me to direct you right to today’s offering – Armin Greder’s Australia to Z.  This is one of those books that, on the surface, looks like a perfectly ordinary picture book, but on closer inspection, has the potential to blow the discussion about Australian identity right out of the water.  I was lucky enough to receive a copy from Allen & Unwin for review – thanks!

Here’s the (sparse) blurb from Goodreads:

Juxtaposing words and images, the multi-award-winning author of The Island shines an uncompromising light on what it is to be Australian.

australia to z

And here are Five Things I’ve Learned From…

Australia To Z by Armin Greder

  1. While “Footballs, Meat pies and Kangaroos” still seem to go together underneath the southern stars, Holden cars are clearly on their way out (of the country and this book)

     2. No matter where we go or what opinion we ascribe to, we cannot escape the looming visage of Rupert.

     3. The meaning of the word stubby is always dependent on context.

     4.  Australia only has two culinary achievements worth mentioning and they begin with L and V respectively.

     5. Those of us who fear for the future of this once-great nation are not alone.

While many of the letter choices in this picture book for readers at upper Primary level and older are designed to initiate debate on current social trends, there are also plenty of images that are just plain hilarious.  My particular favourite is the “I” page, which every DIYer will find familiar, while the “X” page is just plain bizarre – what is that man doing to that Turkey??

The line art is evocative and this, combined with colour-blocked backgrounds and pops of colour on key objects, makes for a sparse and focused examination of each page.  The final double page spread, in which the words of the national anthem are combined with images of “the Australian way”, both mundane and adversarial, sums up the utter sense of discomfiture that many Australians experience regarding various social injustices that continue to plague us.  Greder has run a very fine balancing act here, providing just the right depth of genuflection at the altar of the jovial, jocular, larrikin sense of Australian identity to compensate for the stark and confronting presentation of issues of racism, misplaced national pride and social injustice that, like it or not, also make up the character of modern Australia.

In the interests of the nation, I would suggest passing this book around at your next backyard barbeque and watch the conversations heat up.

Subversion, thy name is Greder! (And the shelf-denizens salute you!)

Until next time,

Bruce

 

 

 

The Land of the Green Man: A Nonfiction “Five Things I’ve Learned” Review…

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Today’s book is one of those that most people wouldn’t pick up for light reading, but it is a thumping good choice for anyone planning to write a fantasy book set in England, Ireland, Scotland or Wales.  The Land of the Green Man – A Journey through the Supernatural Landscapes of the British Isles by Carolyne Larrington does exactly what it says on the metaphorical tin – and it does so in a super-accessible fashion.  I requested, somewhat warily, this book from the publisher via Netgalley and was pleased and surprised to discover a comprehensive yet not overwhelming overview of the context behind the legends that feature in many a modern fantasy novel.

Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

The folklore of Britain abounds with local tales about the activities of one sort of supernatural being or another giants, elves, hobs, boggarts, dragons or shape-changing witches. The stories are vivid, dramatic and often humorous. Carolyne Larrington has made a representative selection, which she re-tells in a simple, direct way which is completely faithful to the style and spirit of her sources.

Most collectors of local legends have been content merely to note how they may serve to explain some feature of the landscape or to warn of some supernatural danger, but Carolyne Larrington probes more deeply. By perceptive and delicate analysis, she explores their inner meanings. She shows how, through lightly coded metaphors, they deal with the relations of man and woman, master and servant, the living and the dead, the outer semblance and the inner self, mankind and the natural environment. Her fascinating book gives us a fuller insight into the value of our traditional tales.

the land of the green man

I could actually feel my neurons connecting and reinforcing pathways as I read, so here are Five Things I’ve Learned From…

The Land of the Green Man – A Journey through the Supernatural Landscapes of the British Isles

1. If you are walking along the moors/near a church/down a back alley/across a marsh and you see a black dog, the outlook is not likely to be good. Unless of course, you are in one of the few localities in which black dogs are portents of luck and protection, rather than death.

2. If you are walking along the moors/near a church/down a back alley/across a marsh and you see a PACK of black dogs, I have no advice for you, except to say that I hope your will is in order.

3. While a shady tree may look like a promising place under which to have a noontime nap, under no circumstances should you succumb to this incredibly poor idea. 

4. If you happen to be propositioned by a beautiful suitor who you suspect is out of your league, you should probably decline the offer on the grounds that said suitor could well be a hag in disguise, hoping to ensnare you for nefarious purposes.  If, on the other hand, you are propositioned by  someone who would be lucky to make the cover of “Hag Fancier’s Monthly”, you should probably accept on the grounds that your suitor is likely to be a member of fairy royalty under some kind of curse, waiting to reward you with magical bounty aplenty.

5. Never, under any circumstances, piss off a mythical creature.

As I mentioned earlier, this book should be essential reading for anyone planning to draw on British myth and legend in their writing.  Larrington manages to deeply explore the origins of a whole range of myths and legends within the context of various localities.  She notes how certain landscapes and the people who dwell in these have put different spins on similar myths – black dogs, for instance, could be lucky or dangerous, depending on where you hang out; and the part of the country in which you live could see you with giant neighbours who are violent, or cheerfully disinterested in the lives on puny humans.

The content is divided into categories that link legends of a similar vein.  The author also notes how modern authors such as JK Rowling, Susan Cooper and Tolkien have used certain legends in their works.  Sirius Black (or Padfoot, to his friends) has obvious connections to the Black Dog stories of various regions, while The Dark is Rising sequence (among other works) makes use of a reworking of the Sleepers under the Hill legends.

Even if you’re not planning to write the next fantasy bestseller, this is a very involving read for lovers of fantasy who would like to know more about the popular legends and mythical beings that call the British Isles home.  I’m sure other readers will have a few “A-ha!” moments, as I did, upon discovering some snippet of information that showed aspects of some recent reads in a new light.

Progress toward Nonfiction Reading Challenge Goal: 17/10

Nonfiction 2015Until next time,

Bruce

 

A Nonfiction “Five Things I’ve Learned” Review: Owls…

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Who doesn’t love the bug-eyed, stealthy swoop and quiet wisdom of the majestic owl? Nobody, that’s who.  Today’s book, as you may have guessed, is devoted to these mystical, mysterious, mouse-eating birds and as it is a factual tome, I am submitting it for the Nonfiction Reading Nonfiction 2015Challenge hosted by The Introverted Reader.  Keen-eyed readers will know that I’ve already technically completed this challenge, but I’m going to see how many nonfiction books I can knock over in the remaining months of the year anyway.

But we were discussing owls, weren’t we?  We received the delightful little illustrated tome, Owls: Our Most Charming Bird, by Matt Sewell, from the publisher via Netgalley.  Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

In this beautiful follow-up to Our Garden Birds, Our Songbirds and Our Woodland Birds, street artist Matt Sewell captures the world’s most evocative bird: the owl. In his much-loved pop-art watercolours and accompanied with his whimsical descriptions, Matt Sewell expresses the individual characters of owls as never before.

From tiny Elf Owls to huge Eagle Owls, from the mysterious creatures of the night to an impossibly fluffy baby owl, they are undoubtedly one of the world’s most intriguing feathered friends. These wise, magical birds are otherworldly in their striking colours and stature, and it’s not just birdwatchers who are obsessed. With 50 hand-selected, hand-painted owls, this is a delightful gift which appeals to owl lovers, bird-watching enthusiasts, children, adults and art and design fans alike.

Owls

So here are five things I’ve learned from

Owls: Our Most Enchanting Bird

  1. Owl facial expressions can be unintentionally hilarious.
  2. “Flammulated” is an evocative and exciting word which should be used far more often.
  3. “Flammulated” means red-hued.
  4. The Flammulated Owl is reddish.
  5. Owls tend to creep people out and as a result, have become the basis of many myths and legends.

This is a fetching and enchanting little book featuring short, witty descriptions and gorgeous illustrations of some fifty types of owl.  Not being possessed of a great expanse of knowledge about owls, this was the perfect, whimsical introduction to these masters of nocturnal stealth.  The descriptions of each owl are only one to two paragraphs in length and so the book is perfect for dipping into as the fancy takes you, but is equally suited to a cover-to-cover type of attack.

My favourite, in case you hadn’t guessed, was the Flammulated Owl both for its stimulating name and its interesting reddy-brownish colouring.  The illustrations in this book are just wonderful and perfectly compliment the light-hearted tone of the text.  Apart from our flammulated friend, I was also quite taken with the Collared Scops Owl (looking set for a walk-on role as an alien in a Doctor Who episode), the Greater Sooty Owl (a mystical looking Australian owl with excellent night camouflage) and the Crested Owl (unmatched in eyebrow prowess).

The last few pages of the book are devoted to a spotter’s checklist, featuring smaller pictures of each of the owls, so that keen readers can tick off the exotic owls as they spot them.  This is a bit of a tongue-in-cheek feature I suspect, but fun for inspiring the latent bird-watcher inside the armchair enthusiast.

Progress toward Nonfiction Reading Challenge: 12/16 

Until next time,

Bruce

Terrible Typhoid Mary: A Kidlit, Nonfiction “Five Things I’ve Learned” Review…

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Nonfiction 2015Today’s book is aimed at a young audience but fascinated me all the same, what with me being so young at heart and all that. Terrible Typhoid Mary: A True Story of the Deadliest Cook in America by Susan Campbell Bartoletti is a concise history of the events leading up to the imprisonment of Mary Mallon as a “healthy carrier” of typhoid who inadvertently spread the disease to many of the households in which she worked as a cook. Before I picked this one up, I knew absolutely nothing about Typhoid Mary, beyond being familiar with the name. After reading, I feel I have been much enlightened and am slightly chagrined (and mildly disappointed, admittedly) to discover that most of my assumptions were utterly wrong.

I am also submitting this one in the Nonfiction Reading Challenge hosted by The Introverted Reader, hence the comfy armchair.

Let’s crack on. Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

What happens when a person’s reputation has been forever damaged?

With archival photographs and text among other primary sources, this riveting biography of Mary Mallon by the Sibert medalist and Newbery Honor winner Susan Bartoletti looks beyond the tabloid scandal of Mary’s controversial life. How she was treated by medical and legal officials reveals a lesser-known story of human and constitutional rights, entangled with the science of pathology and enduring questions about who Mary Mallon really was. How did her name become synonymous with deadly disease? And who is really responsible for the lasting legacy of Typhoid Mary?

This thorough exploration includes an author’s note, timeline, annotated source notes, and bibliography.

typhoid mary

Five Things I’ve Learned From…

Terrible Typhoid Mary: A True Story of the Deadliest Cook in America

  1. If a woman walks like a man, it is likely she is hiding a deadly secret, according to the learned opinions of sanitary officials of Mary’s day.
  2. If you find yourself inexplicably transported to the time before electric refrigeration, declining the dessert menu might save your life as well as your waistline.
  3. Much like today, the popular media of the past was a great means for spreading unfounded hysteria, misinformation and fear-mongering yet catchy nicknames.
  4. Mary may not have actually been the deadliest cook in America, but one of a (not very hygienically washed) handful of such cooks
  5. Even if you have been labelled the deadliest cook in America, there will always be some people who are happy to eat your baked goods.

As narrative nonfiction books for youngsters go, this is a surprisingly engaging tale that attempts to look behind the scandalous headlines and get to the crux of Mary Mallon and her role in inadvertently spreading disease through her role as a cook for well-off households. The early chapters read a bit like a detective story as health officials attempt to find the cause of an outbreak of typhoid within a prominent family. I was drawn in from the start and the first half of the book had me guessing and deducing along with George Soper, a sanitation engineer with big dreams of unmasking the first “healthy carrier’ of typhoid in America.

I appreciated the way in which the author looked at the “chase” from Mary’s point of view. It was very easy to sympathise with her when, out of the blue from her perspective, a strange man turns up at her door telling her she is spreading a deadly disease and demanding she provide samples of bodily fluids. It was not hard to picture Mary’s aggressive response to such an approach.

The second half of the book, which concentrates on Mary’s imprisonment on a hospital island for years at a time, moves at a much slower pace than the first half and takes a more in-depth look at the legal rights of Mary and the government orders that kept her from release. The competing forces of individual rights and protection of the public are discussed at length as the author points out other cases (the “Typhoid Tom, Dick and Harries” as I thought of them) of people who were known to be healthy carriers responsible for infecting others, but who weren’t imprisoned.

I will admit to being slightly disappointed that the story behind the headlines was reasonably dry and based in legality. I was hoping (and feel free to think of me as a scurrilous rascal if you like) for a real humdinger of a tale in which a murderous and downtrodden servant deliberately brought low the upper classes before trip-trapping off to do it again in another unsuspecting city.

Instead, the author has created a very readable biography in which the characters spring off the page and the inconsistencies in the treatment of Mary in comparison to others in her situation allow the reader to get an insight into why Mary might have behaved in the way she did. Based on this experience, I would be very interested in reading more nonfiction by Bartoletti in the future, and I would recommend this to scientifically-minded youngsters and as a great conversation starter for classes learning about public health or individual rights.

Progress toward Nonfiction Reading Challenge Goal: 9/10

Until next time,

Bruce

 

 

We Are Monsters: An Adult Fiction “Five Things I’ve Learned” Review …

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Ready to be party to some deep, well-pondered insights? Then you’ve come to the right place my friend. Today I have an adult fiction, horror tale for you in We Are Monsters by Brian Kirk. I was lucky enough to receive a copy from those masters of spookiness, Samhain Publishing, via Netgalley for review. Got your reinforced, monster-proofed reading gauntlets on? Then let’s have at it.

Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

The Apocalypse has come to the Sugar Hill mental asylum.

He’s the hospital’s newest, and most notorious, patient—a paranoid schizophrenic who sees humanity’s dark side. Luckily he’s in good hands. Dr. Eli Alpert has a talent for healing tortured souls. And his protégé is working on a cure for schizophrenia, a drug that returns patients to their former selves. But unforeseen side effects are starting to emerge.

Forcing prior traumas to the surface.

Setting inner demons free.

Monsters have been unleashed inside the Sugar Hill mental asylum.

They don’t have fangs or claws. They look just like you or me.

we are monsters

So here are

Five Things I’ve Learned From

We Are Monsters

1. If you believe fiction writers, psychiatrists are always higher up the “Batshit Crazy” scale than their patients.

2. Psychiatrists always, ALWAYS have an ulterior motive. Even if it’s subconscious.

3. Unmonitored, experimental medicine always leads to trouble. Or a miracle cure. It depends on your viewpoint. And how uncomfortable you are about the possibility of having your psychotic hallucinations made flesh.

4. Reality is subjective. Unless you’re an inpatient of a mental institution. Then reality is objective and your version of it is clearly wrong.

 

5. If you are seeking inpatient care for mental health issues, always remember to ask about whether you will be subjected to experimental medicine. If yes, refer to point 3.

 

I’m in two minds about this book. On one hand, it is a hefty, action-packed, original tale with lots of twists and turns and characters with comprehensive backstories. On the other, it felt a bit overly long, used every cliché about psychiatrists (and patients) it is possible to use and kind of lost the plot in the middle.

Did I enjoy it? Yes.

Would I read it again? No.

Would I recommend it to lovers of psychological horror? Definitely.

So as you can see, We Are Monsters has inspired a crisis of ambiguity in me.

To begin with the positives, I thought that the first half of the book was very well-written, with a slow-build toward the inevitable catastrophe that is promised right from the start. As we are introduced to the three main characters – Eli, Alex and Angela – we get to see how the dynamics at Sugar Hill are primed for disaster, as Alex experiments with a new wonder drug for schizophrenia, Angela attempts to relate on a human level with a convicted serial killer and Eli wanders around in a fog of hippy altruism. We are treated to a few cheeky twists early on, discovering some possible motives around why Alex might be so desperate to perfect his new medicine and why he wants to keep Eli in the dark.

After a mini-climax in the middle of the book when the proverbial excrement hits the proverbial rotating cooling device, I did feel that the story lost its way a little. When our three main characters are plunged into what can only be described as an altered version of reality, the author spends a lot of time reliving the main characters’ backstories. I found that this section was overwhelming and slowed the pace considerably. By the end of the book, the rapid pace has resumed as certain characters regain normality and attempt to resolve the significant problems that have arisen during the time they were taking a holiday from conscious thought.

I suppose the way the author melded the realistic elements with elements of a psychological thriller and a paranormal story didn’t quite work for me. I definitely related to the jarring and disorientation that the main characters were experiencing, but I didn’t care enough about them to want them to come out the other side. In fact I would have been quite happy for them to have succumbed to unreality. I suspect this is because Eli and Alex in particular did really read like every bad stereotype of a psychiatrist that I’ve ever read, with Eli being all heart and Alex being all head. As for Angela…well, I just didn’t care for her. The serial killer seemed a nice enough chap though.

We Are Monsters will definitely satisfy if you are in the mood for a mind-bending tale that jolts you around and makes you question what is really going on. While elements of it didn’t really work for me, I think this is just due to personal tastes and I certainly wouldn’t dissuade anyone from trying this out if it’s your preferred genre.

Until next time,

Bruce

 

The Singular and Extraordinary Tale of Mirror and Goliath: A “Five Things I’ve Learned” Review…

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imageI seem to be on a bit of a minor roll at the moment, with unexpectedly wonderful books popping up here and there, and I am pleased to be able to add another to my (very short) list of “Top Books of 2015”.

Today’s book is as unexpected and wonderful as it is singular and extraordinary, and I was lucky enough to receive a copy from the publisher, Angry Robot, via Netgalley. The tome in question is The Singular and Extraordinary Tale of Mirror and Goliath by Ishbelle Bee, being the first in a new series relating The Peculiar Adventures of John Loveheart, Esq. I hasten to warn that this book, with its oddities and profanities, will not be for everyone but if you are hankering after a blindingly original array of characters forced into unruly submission by an author with an obvious mastery of the written word, then there is a good chance that this book will be for you.

Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

1888.  A little girl called Mirror and her shape-shifting guardian Goliath Honeyflower are washed up on the shores of Victorian England. Something has been wrong with Mirror since the day her grandfather locked her inside a mysterious clock that was painted all over with ladybirds. Mirror does not know what she is, but she knows she is no longer human.

John Loveheart, meanwhile, was not born wicked. But after the sinister death of his parents, he was taken by Mr Fingers, the demon lord of the underworld. Some say he is mad. John would be inclined to agree.

Now Mr Fingers is determined to find the little girl called Mirror, whose flesh he intends to eat, and whose soul is the key to his eternal reign. And John Loveheart has been called by his otherworldly father to help him track Mirror down…

mirror and goliath

 

Here, then, are five things I’ve learned from

The Singular and Extraordinary Tale of Mirror and Goliath

1. Never trust a man in a waistcoat. Particularly one made of whimsically decorated fabric.

2. Never trust anyone who names themselves after an opposable body part. 

3.  Should you ever be invited to take an especially close look at the workings of a coffin-sized clock, it would be prudent to decline. 

4. When being pursued by demons and humans of dubious origin, it is recommended that you seek the services of a large, battle-trained protector with the ability to shape-shift.

5. Socks, while generally considered an unimaginative gift for older male relatives, are also much less likely to see the giver murdered for the immortality-inducing properties of their soul.

 

I’m sure I’ve mentioned more than a few times how highly an original story is valued in my reviewing world. Being that I churn through a stupidly high number of books a year – my Goodreads challenge chart is telling me that I have read 68 books this year so far – it is only reasonable to expect that much of the time there will be a niggling feeling of having read something like the story in which I find myself immersed, at any given time, before. It is a real and almost tangible treat then, to come across a tale about which one can truly say, “This is different!” The Singular and Extraordinary Tale of Mirror and Goliath is one such book and I put its originality down to the obvious and remarkable talent of the author.

The story is all over the place – and I mean this in the exciting and invigorating sense, not in the “Good Lord, this book is all over the place!” sense that is usually uttered with head in hands – as various characters (both main and minor) muscle in on the telling. The setting ranges from a woody cottage to the depths of the Underworld to the deserts of Cairo to a less-than-reputable clock shop. The characters are human and demon and almost, not-quite. There’s violence and one-liners and escapes and unsavoury dinner parties. Over the course of the tale, a number of characters are referred to as mad – “mad as a spoon”, “mad as a hat”, “mad as scissors” – and while a definite atmosphere of mild insanity hangs over the proceedings, at no point did I feel that the author was letting things get out of (her) hand.

Apart from the welcome and inspiring originality of the tale, the shining light has to be the book’s narrative style. Bee manages to be simultaneously lyrical and distinctly unnerving, mixing dry wit with outlandish, almost slapstick violence and a sense of the poetical with deeds unequivocally wicked. While the title refers to Mirror and Goliath, the main character here turns out to be John Loveheart, Esq., who embodies this sense of innately flawed hilarity and carries it to the nth degree.

By the end of this book I was utterly convinced that I want to read more from Ishbelle Bee, whether in this series or elsewhere. It is rare, in my experience, to come across such finesse with the use of language that one feels excited just to be experiencing the words on the page. I therefore have to commend this book into place number four on my “Top Books of 2015” list, which is growing at a slow but steady pace.

Until next time,

Bruce

The Merit Birds: A YA “Five Things I’ve Learned” Review…

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Hold onto your hats, folks, it’s time for another “Five Things I’ve Learned” review.  Today I have a YA novel featuring a Canadian in Laos – The Merit Birds by Kelley Powell.  I received a digital copy from the publisher in exchange for review.  I should probably warn the faint of heart that this review WILL contain mild spoilers.  You have been warned.  Here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

Eighteen-year-old Cam Scott is angry. He’s angry about his absent dad, he’s angry about being angry, and he’s angry that he has had to give up his Ottawa basketball team to follow his mom to her new job in Vientiane, Laos. However, Cam’s anger begins to melt under the Southeast Asian sun as he finds friendship with his neighbour, Somchai, and gradually falls in love with Nok, who teaches him about building merit, or karma, by doing good deeds, such as purchasing caged “merit birds.” Tragedy strikes and Cam finds himself falsely accused of a crime. His freedom depends on a person he’s never met. A person who knows that the only way to restore his merit is to confess. “The Merit Birds” blends action and suspense and humour in a far-off land where things seem so different, yet deep down are so much the same.

the merit birds

So here are Five Things I’ve Learned from

The Merit Birds

1.  Travelling white folk have an almost uncanny ability to be intrusive, entitled and generally insensitive in cultures not their own.

2. Lao people are partial to the phrase boh penh nyang  – no worries.

3. Drinking and driving will get you into trouble.

4. In the worst of situations, sometimes all you can do is breathe.

5. Life is hard, but it’s harder when you don’t admit to your mistakes.

Right. I have mixed feelings about this book.  The Merit Birds is told through three perspectives, those of Cam, 18-year-old, whinging, pity-party-throwing, Canadian basketballer; Nok, youngest of three siblings, who could have gone to university but instead must work to support her family in the local massage parlour; and Seng, Nok’s older brother, who tries to be useful and has a burning desire to go to America.  The perspectives alternate as Nok and Cam form a tentative friendship and Seng tries to contact his older sister Vong in order to get to America and a better life.

The story begins slowly as the reader is introduced to Cam’s backstory and treated to his shock and dismay at having to live in a place such as Lao.  We meet the all-round good bloke and Cam’s next-door neighbour, Somchai, and find out more about Nok and Seng’s parents and why the siblings have been left on their own.  When Cam and Nok’s friendship develops into a romance, the plot begins to move more quickly and soon enough the story has more twists than a kinked-up garden hose.

I had a couple of problems with this book.  While I enjoyed the book overall, I felt Cam’s storyline was just a waste of space.  I know that must sound strange, given that Cam is the main character and the focus of the story, but I was far more interested in the Lao characters and would have quite happily read a book (with a few plot tweaks, obviously) based just around them.  Cam as a character didn’t really work for me because I couldn’t see how he had grown over the course of the book and he generally just brought the whole thing down for me because…

**Here’s some spoilers! Look away if you don’t want to know!**

…in the beginning Cam spends his time whining and moaning because he is living in Laos, but we are told that he actually had the option to remain in Canada but didn’t take it.  He’s rude, dismissive and generally a right little snot to his mother (for reasons that are clearly explained) but this didn’t endear me to him in any way.  He’s 18. An adult. This kid needs to grow up!  Then he physically assaults an opposing basketball team player to the point that he is in a serious condition.  When this comes back to haunt him later on in the book, it’s overshadowed by the false allegation and at no point does Cam ever take responsibility for cracking another person’s vertebrae.  Nor does his mother in fact.  Both just seemed shocked that anyone would be wanting to press charges over such grievous bodily harm.  And when, at the end of the book, Cam exits the prison into his mother’s waiting arms, I cannot help but feel that he will go trapping off back to Canada, complaining about how badly he was treated, never giving thought to the myriad of ways in which he contributed to his own sh*tty situation.

***Spoilers over!***

Overall, I found this to be an original and engaging story, with the Lao characters, their culture and history the main points of interest to me.  I admit that I’m not really sure what message to take from the book (because I’m sure there’s some wisdom hiding in the pages, if I could only puzzle it out) but if you are looking for a YA novel that is different from your average contemporary romance, that features fleshed out characters and an alternative perspective then this may just be what you’re looking for.

Until next time,

Bruce