Book Review: Wither, Lauren DeStefano

A cold, dark box, filled with terrified teenage girls is the rather dramatic opening to Lauren DeStefano’s debut. Of those girls, all but three are shot and killed. The survivors are taken as ‘Sister Wives’ for Linden Ashby, the son of a very wealthy ‘First Generation’ scientist who has dedicated his life to finding a cure for a mysterious plague. The virus is killing all girls born in the last fifty years at the age of twenty, and all boys at twenty-five, a side effect of the creation of the ‘First Generation’ – genetically faultless humans, free from all disease, who live extended lives in perfect health. In a world where everyone but the very old now die very young, Gatherers roam the streets snatching young girls to be taken as wives for the wealthy, used to produce children and, in the case of those taken by Vaughn Ashby for his son, experimented on for the sake of finding a cure.

Central character Rhine Ellery is one of these three wives, arriving at the Ashby estate in Florida just as Linden’s first wife and childhood love is dying of the virus. Accompanied by older wife Jenna, and the painfully young Cecily, Rhine must endure being married to Linden and everything that comes with it. But while Cecily embraces her new life, and Jenna cuts herself off from all emotional response to it, so that she might enjoy the last year of her life in comfort, Rhine is determined to escape, and return to her twin brother in New York.

As the novel unfolds the extent of Vaughn’s disgusting actions are revealed, and Rhine forms a close friendship with Gabriel, one of the servants. Her resolve to escape never wavers, however she does find herself enjoying the comforts of her new life, and truly feels she is a ‘sister’ to both Jenna and Cecily, and is also drawn to Linden in a way she cannot explain. Ultimately she must struggle through her feelings and decide who she is: the girl her brother always knew as his twin, or the woman Linden sees as his wife, sister to Jenna and Cecily.

The first of The Chemical Garden Trilogy, Wither introduces a type of world rapidly gaining recognition thanks to the success of The Hunger Games: post-apocalyptic, dystopian earth in the near future. Wither is also a Young Adult novel, an odd juxtaposition for post-apocalyptic and dystopian fiction, which either works splendidly or fails miserably. Unlike classic titles in this genre, such as the numerous works of Margaret Atwood, and Mary Shelley’s seminal The Last Man, Young Adult post-apocalyptic fiction is often hindered by the limitations of the genre. The Hunger Games managed to spectacularly avoid such pitfalls. Wither, on the other hand, did not.

Due to the age of the readership for YA fiction, both plot and characterisation are often curbed by the perceived need to make the work suitable for a younger audience. The plots are often simplified, due to YA books being generally shorter in length, and the view that young readers are either uninterested in, or incapable of following, more complex plots. The result is novels often have the basis of a reasonable plotline, but it is never fully explored, never truly explained, and the reader is left with a lot of questions and the feeling they have been robbed of something.

This is the case with Wither, for while there is some potential in the general plot, the lack of salient details make it borderline ridiculous. From the simple perspective of mathematics, it makes no sense: we are told the First Generation was born seventy years ago, yet for fifty years people have been dying of this illness. Since it is not possible for the First Generation to have children old enough to die at the age of twenty or twenty-five, when they themselves are only twenty, this very early statement completely undermines the entire premise. Being forced to second guess the narrator’s statements and figure out how the entire situation could possibly work is a severe distraction from the very first pages of the book. Add to this a virus which targets people at a specific age, and a different age, depending on gender, and the plot becomes even more unbelievable.

The final nail in the plot’s coffin is that North America is supposedly the only surviving land on the planet. Every other country has been obliterated by war; land masses have broken up into such small pieces they are uninhabitable. The reader is expected not only to believe this, but to believe America remained unscathed, and there aren’t any other humans on the whole planet, or any humans who were not a part of this test-tube-born first generation and whose children live perfectly normal lives. While there is the occasional hint that this might be explored in future books in the trilogy, for the sake of Wither, that so many people would simply accept as fact something so utterly implausible it is just one more unbelievable point.

Fortunately, what is lacking in plot is more than made up for in characterisation. In this regard, Wither exceeds itself, providing full, well rounded and completely believable characters. Rhine, as a first person narrator, never fails to deliver. While there are few other characters in the novel, those that do appear are always solid, no matter how briefly they appear. The only oddity in characterisation is that DeStefano holds back in some respects with Rhine. In particular her sexuality and the physical aspects of her relationships with both Linden and Gabriel are censored; too censored for a sixteen year old girl full of hormones, in a situation where she would be in desperate need of comfort. This is particularly odd, because such is not the case with either Jenna or Cecily, in particular Cecily, who is only thirteen years old.

It is all too common for YA novels to avoid sexually explicit scenes out of the need to keep it clean, however this vastly underestimates the reality of teenage life in modern society: whether we like it or not, teenagers have sex. Presenting characters that don’t, even when their situations, emotions,  and wishes, make it far more likely they would, smacks of a need to preach. This is seen in the dynamics of the central relationships in the ever-popular Twilight series, and A Discovery of Witches, despite the fact the latter involves a woman aged thirty-three. While it is understandable to shy away from including sexual elements in fiction geared towards young adults, there must surely be a more believable way of handling these issues, especially in a book such as Wither, where young girls are taken as wives and forced to conceive, prostitution is openly discussed, and a thirteen year old girl is coupled with a twenty year old man who has three other ‘wives’.

Despite the pitfalls of the plot and the incongruities in the manner in which more adult components are handled, Wither is most certainly worth the read, if only for DeStefano’s beautiful prose and compelling characters. There are times in the novel where you truly forget that the plot is ridiculous, and the reactions of Rhine and Linden make no real sense, because of the manner in which the tale is told. This is a book which makes you glad teenagers are reading it, because the calibre of the writing is so much better than that usually found in the YA market you feel as if young readers will come away from it with a heightened awareness of how literature should be written. It remains to be seen how the rest of the trilogy will unfold; hopefully the issues in the plot are addressed further in, and Rhine grows as a character, becoming a more convincing teen. One thing is for sure, if the next two books are written as well as this one, I’ll be reading them regardless.

Modern Book Review: “Dodger” by Terry Pratchett (2012)

Dodger is the latest and highly anticipated new book by Terry Pratchett; but unlike the brilliantly fantastical writing for which he has become renowned and known by, this offering reads more like a wry crime caper through the underbelly of Victorian London.

The story is told (in third person) mostly through the eyes of the young boy known as Dodger, having earned the name by moving quickly, which with the kind of life he leads is in fact necessary.   Although a drastic change in direction for Pratchett, his typical sense of satire – and a tendency to never convey anything too seriously – are ever present throughout the story.

Clearly an homage to Charles Dickens from the start, Dickens – known as “Charlie” even makes an appearance as a supporting character, and in his interactions with Dodger, adding something of a “meta” quality to the whole thing. Even a  sneaky “Can I have some more?” is rather knowingly put in there…   Furthermore, despite Victorian London being notoriously unforgiving of those down on their luck, or otherwise fallen on bad fortune, Dodger is helped out by a few forgiving people; firstly the maid of the household he is part of for a short period of time, and then by Solomon Cohen, a devoutly Jewish and street-wise man with a habit of saying “mmm” constantly.

It is not long before Dodger focuses his attention on an unfortunate young woman, known only as “Simplicity”, who falls foul of some shady men and whom he takes it upon himself to help to save.   Simplicity, however, remains a rather vague character, about whom we learn relatively little. She shows some resilience which lend her a slightly stronger presence as the story goes on but, unfortunately, her character is never really developed in a satisfactory way (perhaps in itself an echo to Dickens’ tendency to underwrite female characters in his writing?). Indeed Simplicity, near the end of the story, appears to be subsumed into another similar character known only as Serendipity, who appears to merely replace Simplicity.

However, this is otherwise a well-written and witty tale. Despite being typically “Pratchett-style”, in the way the characters are conveyed and how the story seems to unfold almost randomly, it is clear that Pratchett has done research into the reality of Victorian London, and indeed it reads in a sufficiently contemporary way that the story could almost be read as a comical take on what could very well have been written at the time.

Well worth a read whether or not you are a Terry Pratchett fan.

Vintage Book Review: “Notes from the Underground” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky” (1864)

“Notes from the Underground” (1864)  predates many of the better known works of Dostoyevsky, such as “The Idiot” and “Crime and Punishment”, but shows a fascinating glimpse of a foray into an existential, stream-of-consciousness, style.

The narrator makes it very clear from the beginning that he is “a spiteful man”; due to varying factors, including a chronic illness, and various setbacks in life, he has become a misanthropic recluse who speaks from the darkness of wherever he may be hiding. Also, from the beginning, we come to realize that he is far from a reliable narrator, for just moments after claiming to be a retired government official, he says that he was lying about that all along “out of spite”. However unreliable, his subsequent ranting about the ills of society, and the inner demons he grapples with every day – reaching the point where he begins to derive a perverse enjoyment from his own corruption “from the intense consciousness of one’s own degradation” – become darkly compelling.

The narrator goes on to claim that it is not only he that is suffering “degradation”. In fact, he claims that the whole of humanity from the malady of hypocrisy, in pertaining to have achieved civilization whilst still seeking out war and practicing oppression, killing and persecution. The narrator gladly awaits a time when “reason and common sense have completely re-educated human nature and turned it in a normal direction”, but as long as this is not the case, the narrator is prepared to continue living in estrangement from fellow people.

Moving further on, he describes a time when he was due to meet up with colleagues and they gave him the wrong time, and did not even apologize when it made him late, leading to grow increasingly irate and distance himself socially. Later, he encounters a prostitute, whose grim future he anticipates and recites to her, trying to veer her off the path to self-destruction. Eventually they part ways, with it being not entirely certain whether she will heed his advice.

Eventually, in typical fashion, the narrator apparently becomes weary of his own story and decides to cut short his own story, yet intriguingly ending with a footnote that it “does not end here”. We gain the impression that there is so much more that the narrator has to say, but given that only pure spite was fuelling him in the first place, he would have to run out of steam some time.

As a commentary of the  failings of the human race, “Notes from the Underground” was controversial at the time, due to its suggestion that people are inherently uncooperative and unable to act and live as a collective. In fact, for some time this was treated as something of an “underground story”, however as more satire on Soviet society began to subsequently emerge, Dostoyevsky was seen as providing a jumping-off point in the “man vs. society” narrative trope which has become legitimately recognized over time.

Vintage Book Review: “Metamorphosis” by Franz Kafka (1913)

Metamorphosis (1913) is most likely the best known short story by Franz Kafka (1883-1924), which explores the possibilities of a physical transformation. Its stark narrative style is what makes this particular story all the more striking.

The story begins, innocuously, with the statement that Gregor Samsa has been transformed overnight into a giant insect (as can happen, of course). What immediately follows this revelation is simply an inner monologue of someone becoming accustomed to such a transformation. Describing how his new limbs “waved feebly” in his helpless state, his thoughts turn almost immediately to his job, and how he will manage to get there today.

Before long, the people in his life begin to show up, demanding to know why he is not making an appearance. His family demand to know why he is not awake and fulfilling his duty of going to work and bringing in an income (he is the sole breadwinner for the whole family). More bizarrely, soon his boss turns up, also demanding to know why he hasn’t shown up on time. Soon, we gain an impression of just how “put upon” Samsa really is in his everyday life, in which he is, apparently, merely a cog in the societal machine, chained to a home, and to a workplace, “where the smallest lapse was greeted with the gravest suspicion”.

Although he dreams of telling his superiors where to go and quitting his job altogether, Samsa accepts that this is not an option, and that his main priority should be to get out of his “present fanciful state” and return to normal as soon as possible – but mostly to appease his boss and his family.

When, eventually, his “state” is made known to them, their reaction is, of course, one of horror and revulsion – but not at all of concern for the young man. They now treat him as if he is merely the creature that he has become, but do concede to feeding him and rearranging his room to suit his condition out of a reluctant obligation. However he is essentially banished from participation in the family and is shooed away. Succumbing to his unfortunate condition, he becomes ill and dies, which with a cruel twist of irony, becomes the only way he, and his family, are able to gain any respite from the situation.

Although surreal in its premise, Kafka’s narrative style, combining realism with marked nonchalance, manages to explore the probable aftermath, in “real life”, of such a transformation; in narrating the quiet reflections of Samsa in his state, more is revealed about the “rat race” of working life, and the extent of the depersonalisation it can cause.

Metamorphosis certainly manages to epitomise, in a relatively short space of time, the definition of “Kafkaesque”.

Book Review: The First Book of Calamity Leek

If this book sounds like a fairy tale then I am sorry to tell you that this one does not have a happy ever after.  The First Book of Calamity Leek is the debut novel of Paula Lichtarowicz and in it she creates a world where nothing is quite as it seems.

The story is told through the eyes of Calamity Leek, a girl in her teens who, along with her sisters, lives in a garden behind the wall of safekeeping completely shut off from the outside world.  The girls are brought to the garden at a young age and watched over by Aunty and Mother.  It goes without saying that Aunty and Mother are not the caring people they would have the girls believe and of course the sisters are not really sisters.  Don’t worry, this is not a spoiler; the story is not so much about how the sisters came to be there but more about how they discover the lies they have been brought up in and the crumbling of the world they thought they knew.

Starting on the night when one of the sisters looks over the wall and begins to question the truth of Aunty’s stories, from then on the book tells the tale of what happened and the aftermath, as Calamity desperately tries to keep hold of everything she has been told and make sense of the new truth.  The language used by the sisters and the description of their life gives the impression of a quaint world straight out of a film – they are even named after old film characters and UK landmarks; but it soon becomes apparent that the idyllic world is just a cover for a dark secret cooked up by two disturbed women.

Having finished the book, I cannot quite make up my mind if I actually enjoyed it.  This is an unusual take on a story that is essentially about kidnapping and abuse, the quaint language and naivety of the girls makes it palatable but nonetheless sad.  If we were feeling picky we might question how no one thought to check the secluded orphanage when local girls in Wales started to go missing but aside from that it is an interesting and thought provoking read.  I do not know if I enjoyed the First Book of Calamity Leek but it did make me wonder how you can ever convince someone of the truth when everything they have ever been told is a lie.

Book Review: EAT LOTS, LOSE WEIGHT – Straight talking rules for weight loss By Max Morton

In theory, weight loss is simple: eat less and workout more, but if it was as simple as that in reality then no one would have trouble losing the weight. Yet here we are, with millions of people trying to lose weight and not succeeding. Max Morton’s book tackles this problem by outlining the real idea behind weight loss. He gives you a simple explanation of what works and how to do it. And we know that it works, because he is the perfect example of his plan in action.

The book is broken up into four areas: the mind, what not to eat, what to eat and exercise. Starting with the mind is refreshing as this is the area that most people forget to cover. If your mind isn’t 100% committed to losing weight then you simply won’t be successful and by starting his book with this fact Morton is teaching his readers that they are ultimately in control of their bodies. Focus on your goals and the reason you want to lose weight, then get your body to commit.

Although the ideas in this book are similar to those in many others, Morton lays them out clearly, without any additional babble that can distract from the facts. Don’t eat high calorie fatty foods, do eat high protein, healthy meals. This is a book for people who want the answer in a simple format. What should I avoid? What foods are best for weight loss? How much should I exercise? Each answer is given a very brief explanation, but ultimately this is a book of answers.

Morton could have easily fleshed this book out, giving the full story of his weight loss journey, in-depth explanations of how to burn fat and how foods are digested, but all of this would only have served as a distraction from the real tools of weight loss. Eat Lots, Lose Weight is a book that people can go back to, reread the basic concepts and refocus their minds when things get tough.