Sabriel

Sabriel by Garth Nix
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

With her powerful necromancer father missing, Sabriel must take on the mantle of Abhorsen and return to her homeland to protect the living from the ravaging Dead.

Sabriel is happily planning her life after boarding school when a peculiar messenger arrives one night with her father's tools of the trade: his sword and a bandolier containing seven bells to control the Dead. Sabriel leaves her life behind without a second glance, undertaking a dangerous journey back to her homeland. She is pursued by a terrifying Dead creature sent by its even more powerful master: a necromancer who may have caused her father's disappearance. During her journey, Sabriel acquires two companions: a mysterious cat-shaped servant called Mogget, plus a young man named Touchstone who spent the past two hundred years in an enchanted sleep.

Sabriel's world is a fascinating one: she grows up in a pseudo-England called Ancelstierre, where most of the magic emanating from the northern Old Kingdom is blocked by an ancient Wall. In the magic-filled Old Kingdom, trustworthy Charter magic protects the people from untamed Free Magic or the evil Dead who attempt to escape Death. Death is depicted as a place - dark and full of rushing water - which Sabriel crosses into when she needs to banish the Dead or interrogate them.

Nix has created a page-turning dark fantasy world (I especially love the Abhorsen's house and the concept of the bells) that he revisits in sequels Lirael and then in Abhorsen. If you're a fantasy lover of any age, you should add this trilogy to your must-read list.

Nix has slowly become one of my favorite YA fantasy/science fiction authors, with fantasy series like The Keys to the Kingdom and The Seventh Tower that show a unique imagination and impressive world-building. He also has stand-alone novels like The Ragwitch. His female characters are fully formed and often casually heroic, like Sabriel (who may question her own lack of knowledge but shoulders the incredible burden of her role without complaint).

Nix never holds back from telling truly dark stories in spite of writing for a younger audience, so be prepared: his stories often veer into horror, and can be terrifying and violent. (Example: Shade's Children, a sci-fi horror novel that makes The Hunger Games look tame.) In fact, I mentally pair his seven-book Keys to the Kingdom series with Suzanne Collins' five-book Underland Chronicles because they contain a similar unflinching awareness of the consequences of war and death - all aimed at a middle grade audience.

Ptolemy's Gate

Ptolemy's Gate by Jonathan Stroud

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Boy magician Nathaniel tightens his grip on the reins of power with help from his faithless djinn, Bartimaeus; meanwhile, Kitty Jones searches for a way to bring England's tyrannical magicians down.

Nathaniel, known as John Mandrake, is becoming increasingly disillusioned with the petty jostling for power that he sees among England's oligarchy of magicians. The prime minister is weak and paranoid, the war in America is going badly, and Nathaniel's role is limited to writing bad propaganda to convince the increasingly restless commoners that war is great. In his need for a connection, he's worn Bartimaeus down to a dripping pile of essence, fatally weakening the 5,000-year-old djinn by keeping him in constant service (without frequent trips back to the Other Place, demons die).

Meanwhile, Kitty Jones is secretly being awesome and has taken Bartimaeus's lessons from the last book to heart. She's searching for information about the enslaved demons to figure out how to free humanity from its cycle of magical tyranny, commoner revolt, rinse, repeat. We get great scenes between her and Bartimaeus as these two characters size each other up.

Woven throughout are scenes that finally illuminate Bartimaeus' deep friendship with the Egyptian boy, Ptolemy, which has been hinted at but never revealed in the other books.

This series is all about the characters: I want more scenes between Nathaniel and Bartimaeus, and Nathaniel and Kitty, and Bartimaeus and Kitty, and all three together. The way that each rubs up against the other is fascinating, and I am so relieved to see Nathaniel leave his terrible teens behind as he realizes the bigger picture and the horrible role he's been playing in the world so far. He's lost most of his annoying foppish tendencies, which is a shame since it was always fun to see Bartimaeus needle his master.

Storywise, the threads spun in the first two books all come together in an incredibly frightening and bloody climax (though I still find Gladstone's afrit from The Golem's Eye the creepiest thing ever). It's definitely not for readers on the younger end of YA. (For younger readers who like grim fantasy, start them with Suzanne Collins' Gregor the Overlander series instead and let them work their way up to Bartimaeus.)

I can't comment on the series without saying that the end broke my heart. I almost cried. I had hoped for an eleventh-hour rescue, and didn't believe what had happened until the last page forced me to. I loved Nathaniel/Bartimaeus/Kitty, and didn't want it to end that way for them, though I accept that there was no other way to end the story without it feeling like a cheat. Still, boo for making me care and then breaking my heart.

Crown Duel

Crown Duel by Sherwood Smith
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Young Meliara, made a countess by her father's death, begins a war to defend her people from a greedy king - a war she cannot win.

Sigh. You can't go home again. I remember reading this book avidly as a teenager. I was initially attracted to it because of the cover: not only is the girl there beautiful, but she looks incredibly tough because of her black eye and a sword slung over one shoulder. And Meliara is tough, but she's a bit of a one-note character, hardly the equal of Katniss.

In fact, most parts of this book feel flat. The plotting of the war and the fantasy setting are barely sketched in, and some of the conversations are unbelievable. (The Hill Folk seem tacked-on instead of integral to the story, despite motivating a civil war.) Meliara is captured by a surprisingly capable marquis and spends most of the book trying to escape the clutches of her enemies. (Which leads to her spending a lot of time unconscious - I do remember that from my first reading.) Her antagonist, the sexy Marquis, is like a junior version of a Heyer romantic lead: a fop who uses his reputation to conceal his true cunning

That said, the story moves quickly and Meliara is a likable protagonist. In summary: a pleasant way to pass an afternoon but probably not a book to keep rereading into adulthood. Lesson learned.

The Forest of Hands and Teeth

The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan

My rating: 1 of 5 stars


When Mary's questions about her place in her village threaten those in authority, she faces danger from within the fences as well as from the relentless zombies thronging outside.

Mary, Mary, Mary. Why are you so annoying? For a girl who grew up in a village surrounded by the constant threats of the Unconsecrated outside, you sure are worthless in a zombie fight. I kept asking myself "These are the ones who survived the apocalypse? Really?"

Mediocre is the most charitable adjective I can use to describe this melodramatic book, which makes me sad. The title is so captivating (seriously, what a great phrase to describe the hordes of the living dead!) that I wish the contents were less pedestrian. There are so many missed opportunities here!

First of all, the idea of a small community ruled by a Sisterhood is great (though their vows of lifelong celibacy seems foolish in a depopulated world). But the Sisterhood quickly prove to be your typical religious wackos who make for absurdly cliched villains.

Side note: Please stop making Christians your punching bag, writers. At least take the trouble to make them seem human, and give them a shred of a conscience or awareness when they violate basic religious tenets (like committing murder, for example - pretty sure that's one of the Ten no-nos). And maybe a scrap of common sense? Contrary to what some believe, having faith doesn't make you stupid, sexist, or controlling. In fact, embracing religion seems to be a pretty good way to reject despair during a zombie apocalypse. Just sayin'.

I'm not saying it's always bad to write villains who are Christians, because Christians are people too, and prone to mistakes and evil-doing. I'm not fine with terrible one-note, one-dimensional villains who are evil and stupid because they are Christians. That's bigotry. And bad writing - not sure which offends me more.

Readers, if you are looking for a more thoughtful take on post-apocalyptic religion, try A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter J. Miller, Jr. If you want a more competent group of zombie apocalypse survivors, check out Colson Whitehead's Zone One or Max Brooks's World War Z. And if you want a truly kick-ass YA heroine, please substitute a reading (or rereading!) of The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins.



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