Splash! Awards

Because I’ve been given a Splash! award by Susan, I’d like to return the favor and give some Splash! awards to other book blogs I’ve been reading regularly.

The Rules:

1) Put the logo on your blog/post.
2) Nominate up to 9 blogs which allure, amuse, bewitch, impress or inspire you.
3) Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.
4) Let them know that they have been splashed by commenting on their blog.
5) Remember to link to the person from whom your received your Splash award.

(Squee. I just realized this is my first meme!)

Here are my splash awards
1) Back to Susan, whom I admire for turning book blogging into a social activity. You always have something new, interesting to read every time I check your blog, and it’s always from the heart too :)

2) Peter, because I was hooked from my first visit to your blog! I look forward to reading your entries, and I feel gratified that there are more book lovers in this country.

3) Honey, my Flipper friend! I love how eloquent you are in your reviews, and how you go out of your way to aggregate little bits of book info for us bibliovultures. And now you’ve started a crusade to unite all book bloggers and promote book blogging in the Philippines, a cause I fully support!
4) Jo, because I love how organized your reviews are. And I just discovered your archive (!), yay, lots more to read through!

5) Marie, another Flipper friend! I enjoy your company because we have very different literary taste, and I admire your take-no-prisoners attitude towards books :)

6) Patti, who is one of my inspirations for blogging. When I saw your WordPress blog last year, I knew I wanted a blog of my own!

7) IHop, another one of my inspirations. You have a blog for everything, and someday I’d like to do that too! And I love how I can imagine you as I read your posts, like we’re talking face to face :D

8) Keyla, whose blog I discovered today. I’ve been seeing you in Shelfari, and you’ve added me too, and your love for books is infectious :)

9) and one last — Color Online, because the advocacy is admirable, and the blog goes out of its way to reach out to readers and make empowerment fun! :)

(I wish I could add more!)

Some good, old-fashioned fun (The big 5-0 milestone!)

I’d seen Jeanne Birdsall’s The Penderwicks: A Summer Tale of Four Sisters, Two Rabbits, and a Very Interesting Boy (Book #50 for 2009) on bookstore shelves for some time already without really wanting to pick it up, until my officemate Andi gave me a hardbound copy (thanks Andi!) as an early Christmas present, along with a glowing recommendation. The book was shrink-wrapped, and there was no blurb at the back so I decided to look it up online to find out more about it.

I was surprised to find out it won the 2005 National Book Award for Young People’s Literature (among a plethora of awards, making it Book #9 for the FFP Diversity Challenge, award-winner) and I was so curious about the book that I moved it up my TBR list.

The story revolves around the adventures (and misadventures) of the Penderwick sisters Rosalind (12), Skye (11), Jane (10), and Batty (4) — together with Dad (a widower) and faithful dog Hound — on their summer holiday in the countryside, in a quaint rental cottage on the grand estate of Arundel.

I like the Penderwicks because although it’s set in modern time, it’s throwback to the family classics, reminding me of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, Sidney Taylor’s All-of-a-Kind family, and even a bit of Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle. There are no fantastic creatures, no magic powers, no slam-bang special effects — just a very charming, feel-good family story.

It’s great how Birdsall took care to make the characters distinct; usually the pitfall of family stories, especially those with lots of kids, is that only one or two personalities stand out, and the rest fade into the background. I like the sensitivity towards fleshing out each sister — you can easily tell them apart, like Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy in Little Women.

Rosalind, the eldest, is the serious, responsible one. She’s patient with her siblings, although she loses her patience once in a while, and has that take-charge / surrogate mom attitude. Losing their mom at a young age, she’s had to fill in some large shoes in taking care of her sisters, and she often comes across as quite mature for her age. It comes as a relief, though, that she hasn’t grown up too fast — she gets her first taste of unrequited love in that summer, and it’s amusing and poignant at the same time.

Skye is the tempestuous sister. While you wouldn’t say she’s the wild child, she’s definitely no lamb either. Adjudged to be the family beauty (she’s the only one with blue eyes and silky blonde hair like their mom, the rest have brown eyes and curly brown hair), Skye is a no-frills tomboy and a loudmouth to boot, but is fiercely protective of their family.

Jane is the writer, the dreamer, often with her nose buried in the notebook into which she writes her Sabrina Starr stories. With a fertile imagination and a creative spirit, Jane is much given to building great adventures out of everyday experiences, and breaking into lyrical speech whenever an opportunity presents itself.

Little Batty, the baby of the family, is the shy soul, often obscuring herself in the shadow of her sisters, but acutely perceptive of her surroundings, and truly a bit batty, as her name suggests. She is also an animal lover, with Hound often following close at her heels.

It is truly an idyllic summer for the sisters in the country side, where the cast is rounded out by the handsome gardener Cagney, the generous cook Churchie, Harry the tomato-grower, the snooty Mrs. Tifton and her boyfriend Dexter Dupree, and the spirited Jeffrey, who soon becomes initiated as an honorary Penderwick.

The novel’s simplicity is its charm, and there very few children’s books in this day and age that dare strip down to good, old-fashioned fun because it is almost inconceivable, but Birdsall manages quite gracefully, and bags a National Book Award while she’s at it.

The Penderwicks is a must-read for tween girls; it’s a great introduction to the classic Little Women. And there’s a sequel, too: The Penderwicks on Gardam Street, which I mean to read soon (just as soon as I get some plastic cover on it!)

Here’s a little doodle :)

***
My copy: hardcover, with dust jacket

My rating: 4.5/5 stars

Let’s play Kokology!

Quick, answer this little quiz for me before you read on, the first thing that comes to mind will do:

1. A book is lying in front of you. What type of story does it contain?

2. You begin to read and soon find that you yourself are a character in the story. What kind of role do you play?

3. You read further and come to a section where the pages have been damaged, making them nearly impossible to read. What part of the story is it?

4. You have just closed the cover after finishing the book. How was the ending?

The little quiz above is from the book Kokology: The Game of Self Discovery by Tadahiko Nagao and Isamu Saito, who define kokology (Japanese kokoro, mind, spirit, feelings + Greek logia, the study of) as “a series of psychological games designed to uncover emotional and behavioral traits of the players.”

I discovered Kokology in high school, when the first volume came out. I remember how we took turns checking the book out from the library and answered the quizzes in between classes, or when the teacher wasn’t looking.

Last year, I mooched a hardbound edition that compiles both volumes 1 and 2, and I’ve been answering random pages whenever the mood strikes.

It kills me that I forgot about this book for the Flips Flipping Pages Japanese book discussion a couple of weeks ago! *palm face*

I found out that before the book, Kokology was actually *drumroll please* a game show that ran in the early 90’s, where contestants answer the quiz questions and the interpretation turns out to be shocking or hilarious (e.g. what you shout when your roller coaster car plunges into pool = what you scream at orgasm).

In the hardbound compilation, there are over a hundred quizzes that delve into the subconscious, revealing how you truly feel about work, love, family, sex, and many more! Psych testing has never been this fun — I remember once when I was applying for a job, we had to undergo psychological profiling and it was a half-day’s worth of seemingly endless tests; I was getting paranoid about what I was revealing to a potential employer and I felt like my brain was getting picked. Kokology takes a more subtle, non-threatening approach.

Of course, like all pop psychology, Kokology interpretations range from spot-on to totally off the mark (depending on the person), and it’s up to you to take it or leave it. But it does provide great entertainment for small groups who are game for some good-natured ribbing.

So let’s see what your answers say about you.

According to Kokology, books and school are inextricably linked, and the answers you gave in response to this scenario likewise echo your own experiences during school.

1. The type of story you imagined reflects your general impression of your school years.

Does your answer suggest you lived through a comedy, a mystery, or a romance? Then again, who among us didn’t?

Or perhaps it was an erotic novel? Either you were a very precocious child or you had an overactive imagination.

A Shakespearean tragedy? The fact that you survived all five acts has added nobility to your character.

2. The role you saw yourself in is the image you have of yourself in your time as a student.

Were you the star of the tale? A sidekick? Comic relief? Or no more than a bit player with only a single dialogue on page 283? It may just be that your character was being developed for the sequel.

3. The scene described in the damaged pages mirrors a situation in which you were hurt during your youth. Broken hearts can hurt as much as an act of violence, and even seemingly minor traumas can take a lifetime to heal. Although at first there might not seem to be any immediate connection to your life, if you think back to your past, it’s more likely you’ll find some buried painful memory associated with the scene.

4. The ending of the story is an expression of your feelings of closure (or lack thereof) regarding your days spent at school.

Did you answer something like, “And they rode off into the sunset to live happily ever after”? A little cliched, perhaps, but you can’t argue with success.

Perhaps you envisioned a story in which your character dies in the end? It’s likely you greeted your graduation as a chance to be reborn into a new life.

Or was the ending a cliff-hanging “To be continued…”? In a way, that’s the most accurate response you could give. You’ll just have to wait and see how the next episode turns out.

***
My copy: hardbound, no dust jacket

My rating: 4/5 stars

Scary stories: not so scary anymore

I remember how I loved scaring myself when I was a kid. I read all the Goosebumps and ghost story books I could get my hands on; I watched all the Halloween / All Souls’ Day horror specials on tv in between my fingers; and my classmates and I told ghost stories dared ourselves to go ghost-hunting whenever we had our annual camp-out on our school grounds (which, as all schools in this country are reported to be, was once a wartime burial ground, therefore it is haunted!)
In high school, I’d moved on to Christopher Pike and R.L. Stine’s Fear Street, and even the Spirit Quest Chronicles, but after that I don’t think I’ve ever went for any horror books. Yeah, I enjoy Gothic novels, or suspense thrillers, but I seem to have either a) lost the fascination for reading books for the intention of scaring myself silly (except for when I had to read The Historian again for a book discussion *shiver*); or b) less things have the power to scare me silly (okay, I am officially giving myself a headache thinking this through).

Anywaaaaay, the reason I brought this dilemma up is because I dug out this book from the bargain bin: Scary Stories 3: More Tales to Chill Your Bones, collected from folklore and retold by Alvin Schwartz, drawings by Stephen Gammell (Book #49 for 2009).

The book looked familiar; I think I must’ve read this (or one of the previous volumes) back in grade school. There are over 25 stories in the book: some ghost stories, some urban legends, some just strange tales.

If I were much younger, I’d probably have enjoyed this book and I’d have “chilled my bones” as the book earnestly promises.


On a positive note, what’s nice about this anthology is that there’s a whole section in the back devoted to references for the adaptations — whether it’s oral tradition, a news article, or a reported recollection. One of them, An Appointment in Samarra, even appears in the last book I read (The Eight by Katherine Neville).

I also like the pen and ink wash illustrations of Stephen Gammell (Caldecott Medal awardee for The Song and Dance Man by Karen Ackerman, and Caldecott Honor awardee for Where the Buffaloes Begin by Olaf Baker), I think they’re even more scary than the stories, and if I was the young reader perusing this volume, they’d have been set the right mood for bone-chilling. :)

***
My copy: a worn paperback, still good for many readings, now in my bookmooch inventory.

My rating: 3/5 stars

At long last… The Eight!

I don’t normally pick up a book that people are raving about, but I have to admit that I was really curious about The Eight (book #48 for 2009), especially when fellow Flipper MayD named it her best book of 2008.
I finally got around to reading it last week, which went by in a flurry of activity, leaving medetermined to make some headway on a bunch of books this week to keep my reading rate up.

I don’t want to give away any major plot details, so I’ll try to keep the summary short: The Eight by Katherine Neville is a complex mystery involving Charlemagne’s legendary chess service, a gift from the Moors, that is said to unlock the secret of civilization. Told in alternating timelines by two spirited women, The Eight traces an age-old quest to recover the pieces of the legendary service and yield the secret it conceals, encapsulated in a seemingly endless, real-life chess game involving those who want to protect the service, and those who want it for their own gain.

The Eight started out quite interesting for me, then I got bogged down by the middle chapters, and it picked up again during the latter half of the book.

This novel is longer than your average mystery, but then again, The Eight is far from average. The writing style is not particularly refined or lyrical, but given the intricacies of a two-tiered plot involving multiple sets of characters, anything that’s beyond succinct would probably have been overkill.

There are so many layers to this novel — the chess component, the historical aspect involving many colorful personalities, the mystery-thriller plot, and the cryptic word puzzles, that it tends to get unwieldy if you’re not fully invested in the book; it does take some patience and concentration before the pieces to all fall into place. The faithful reader is then rewarded as the layers come together and reveal their links, and history, romance and mystery are entwined in an intelligent and highly memorable novel that mystery buffs would love to sink their teeth into.

(That said, I wish I’d read it on a long weekend or a vacation when I could have read it from cover to cover without any interruptions. It took me all week to make my way through the first half of the novel, and when I finally got my respite on Sunday, I settled down to read the latter half, and it was then when I started to fully appreciate the book.)

For me, though, the backbone of the book lies in the strong women characters in the novel. As in a chess game, it is the queen that wields true power, and using the chess metaphor, the novel’s central characters — the spirited Mireille from the 1790s, and the feisty Cat from the 1970s, and even the key characters in the story — Catherine Grand, Lily Rad, and the fortune teller — are all female. The males, for the most part, are supplemental and hover in the periphery, and often only function to supply information or provide assistance to the central characters (although I must say the hunky Alexander Solarin is a guy after my own heart! hee hee), and at some point even the dog Carioca had a bigger part than any of the males (and the dog was more than once used as a convenient diversion tactic, may I point out).

While I like the characters in the book — Cat and Lily more than Mireille and Valentine — I think that for a book that’s almost 600 pages long, Neville could have strengthened the characterization, especially for Cat, who is the ultimate key to the mystery. While we know she is smart and sassy, we really do not know who she is aside from her recent work history; I just found it strange that we know nothing about her family or her childhood, or even her life before she got to New York.

It was also kind of annoying for me that in the chapters pertaining to Cat, the author kept preempting future events repetitively, I remember reading so many passages that ended with phrases like (not verbatim) “little did she know how the books would create an impact on her life” and “not knowing that this would turn her into a major player in the game.” For me, it was like neon lights flashing “this is a significant event, take note!” and took away some of the thrill of the mystery.

While it’s not the best mystery I’ve ever read, I still enjoyed reading the book, and I look forward to reading its sequel, The Fire.


The Eight reminds me uncannily of three other books I’ve read that might be of interest to those who’ve read this book: The Virgin Blue by Tracy Chevalier, Labyrinth by Kate Mosse, and The Flanders Panel by Arturo Perez Reverte.

The Virgin Blue and Labyrinth both use a similar style – two different women in two different times, although in these two books the two women are reincarnations of each other. In The Virgin Blue, the character from the future solves a mystery of the past through dream apparitions of her ancestor. Labyrinth is more eerily similar to The Eight, as the events from the past recreate themselves in the future and it is up to the contemporary character to stop the cycle from happening again. There are also a major plot elements that both books share, but I can’t reveal them without spoiling the book.

The Flanders Panel is also similar to The Eight in the use of chess as a metaphor for the story, and movements across the chessboard as a mirroring of the plot, although the novel is based on a Flemish painting (Van Huys’ The Game of Chess), and not Charlegmagne’s service.

***
My copy: trade paperback, mooched from the US

My rating: 4/5 stars