Betty Smith – A Tree Grows In Brooklyn

Oh, where do I begin? Remember Cassandra from I Capture The Castle? She is one of my favourite narrators and I believe you'd be hard pressed to find a character as charming as her. Betty Smith's Francie comes close. She doesn't have the pleasure of living in a dilapidated-yet-romantic castle as Cassandra did – instead, she's over the sea and far away in the Williamsburg slums of Brooklyn from 1912-1919. At the outset, Francie is eleven years old and she's a reader. That's all I need to get that instant connection to a protagonist.

Francie thought that all the books in the world were in that library and she had a plan about reading all the books in the world. She was reading a book a day in alphabetical order and not skipping the dry ones.

She lives with her parents and her younger brother, and despite being a family of slender means, they are cheerful and grateful. Her mother, Katie, desperately wants a better future for her children, and she leans heavily on the two pieces of advice her own mother gives her: ensure that her children are educated ("Everyday you must read one page of some good book to your child.") and save every penny possible in order to purchase land which can be handed down to the children. In addition, this piece of advice from Katie's mother – a first generation immigrant –  is priceless as she insists that the children must believe in ghosts, fairies, and Santa:

"[T]he child must have a valuable thing called imagination. The child must have a secret world in which live things that never were. It is necessary that she believe. She must start out by believing things not of this  world. Then when the world becomes too ugly for living in, the child can reach back and live in her imagination." 

However, while Katie tries her level best to ensure a better life for her kids, her husband – a happy-go-lucky drunk – is a singing waiter whose priorities differ from Katie's. He's the good cop to Katie's bad cop, as he looks out for their feelings and tries to ensure they're happy. For example, while Katie's focused on ensuring her children get educated at the local school where they're treated like second class citizens, he acknowledges Francie's desire to go to a school slightly further away where the quality of education is superior and makes it happen much to Francie's delight.

It's such incidents that make the book a treat. There's heartbreak, grief, and loss, but still, there's always a light shining at the end of the tunnel – a glimmer of hope, if you will. No matter how dire circumstances get, Francie and Katie do their level best to not get completely down and out. It's almost like Pope addresses them in his poem:

Hope springs eternal in the human breast, Man never is but always to be blessed. 

However, there are parts of the book that are bleak and  reflective of the times. One of their neighbours – a young, attractive woman with a child, sans a husband – is mocked relentlessly by her neighbours for having the gall to take her child out during the day. Yes, it's rage-inducing, but then one has to remember that this was a century ago – and, sadly, there are parts of the world today where this is still the case.

Or, how Francie is the one who has to temporarily drop out of school to earn money while her younger brother carries on studying, despite she being the one more academically inclined and he being more than willing to take up a job.

But – I digress.

You'll be hard pressed to find a more likeable child in fiction, and you'll be glad that you embarked on her journey with her as she finds her feet in the world and figures out the best course of action no matter what the situation.

Carlos Ruiz Zafón - The Prince of Mist

The Shadow of the Wind is one of those books that I absolutely loved, and although my second experience with Zafón didn't have quite the same happy ending, the desire to read his works didn't really come to a complete halt. I picked up The Prince of Mist, a book aimed at children, at Greenwich Market, just the other day, and started it feeling quite positive. The Prince of Mist is Zafón's first published book, albeit the English translation came much later. Thirteen year old Max Carver is forced to say goodbye to city life, as his idiosyncratic father decides that the entire family must move away to a house by the sea-side, during the War. It's safer, after all. However, no location is ever mentioned.

The book starts off slow, with the Carvers moving to their new home, which isn't all that it seems on the face of it. In the mysterious garden behind the house, Max discovers creepy statues of circus characters, . Investigating the history of the house, he discovers that the house was abandoned by a couple after their son died. In the shed, there's a projector and some old home-made movies. One of the movies is set in the mysterious garden, and once over, his sister, Alicia, claims to have sene the clown before - in her dreams. Something's a-creepy. Something's amiss.

When Max befriends a local boy, Ronald, the pace picks up. While the budding romance between Alicia and Ronald is one story-line, the parallel story is what grips the reader. When the boys go scuba-diving by an old shipwreck, Max and Alicia learn the legend of the ship, the crew and its story. And the fact that no bodies were found.

Curiouser and curiouser.

The story, in itself, ends with more questions than answers. Some of the plot developments are all-too-convenient for the story, but perhaps that's me being unfair, for it is a children's book. The suspense is built throughout, sometimes a little too melodramatic; a little too hyperbolic. But - perhaps, that's what good fiction is.

I did enjoy the book, and like before, I will actively seek out more of Zafón's works.

Suzanne Collins - The Hunger Games

Oh sweet temptation, I cave to thee ever so oft', and yet, how scarcely do I regret it. A tinge of embarrassment, possibly, and an element of judging the fool that wears my shoes does creep in, but that's alright. That's alright. This book has caught my attention numerous times since it hit the stands a couple of years ago, and each time, I picked it up, put it back on the shelf and moved on. About three weeks back though, desperate to try and find something that would complete my three-for-two purchase at Waterstones, this was picked up. Allow me a moment of sentimentality, for it's a dilemma I might never face again, with the three-for-two scheme coming to a close.

What do you say about a book where the writing is ordinary at best, the plot supposedly unoriginal (inspired by the Japanese novel, Battle Royale), and a book which is aimed at young adults about survival?

Kill or be killed. "Last man standing" wins. Innocent people die. Innocent children die. It's a far cry from the days of Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys, where justice was always served; from the days of Sweet Valley which was just high school fluff; from Roald Dahl where the villainous characters always got what was coming to them as they were purely outsmarted or outwitted by brilliant children.

Maybe you put that into perspective, with the Harry Potter books, where the innocent died at the hands of Lord Voldemort, and it was left to The Boy That Lived and his friends to avenge their family and friends, and protect the world of wizardry from the Dark Lord and Death Eaters.

In a futuristic society, North America has been replaced by the twelve districts of Panem. Every year, two teenagers (a boy and a girl) from each district are chosen to participate in a reality TV series (will we never escape those?): The Hunger Games. The objective of the Games is simple: the last teenager still standing wins, and the way to ensure victory and your own survival is to kill others your own age, who haven't committed any crimes, who've done nothing wrong.

In District 12, the poorest of the Districts, Katniss' younger sister is called upon to represent her district. Katniss immediately volunteers in her place, protective of her younger sister. The other representative from the district is Petra - the baker's son. The two go to the Capitol, show-off their skills, eat more than they've ever eaten and see more luxury than they've ever seen. They prepare for the Games, honing their existing skills, and trying to build new ones, as they meet the other tributes - the other representatives.

And then the Games begin.

People from the different districts group together, and hunt in packs, and like in any other dystopia, it's cringeworthy to see how naturally people do anything to survive, even though it's the monsters at the Capitol who have ensured this lunacy occurs year after year, as a punishment for a rebellion that occurred years ago. The book is gripping, as everyone wants to the girl who volunteered to take her younger sister's place to emerge victorious. It's not that the others should die (although a couple of them are truly obnoxious), but, the rules are simple.

Obviously, as the case is, with most fiction (young adult or otherwise), there's a parallel love story, as all the tributes battle for survival and the pride that comes with emerging victorious. It's these parallel - sometimes unnecessary - love stories that make these books slightly trying. Same thing with Harry Potter and the Harry-Ginny, Hermione-Ron thing - what was the point? What did it accomplish? Such a tame ending to the seventh book.

I digress.

There's a love story, here as well, but possibly, what Collins has done is, made this love story the base for the second and third books of the trilogy (which I have also finished and will pen down my thoughts on, in due course); the base for the Capitol's anger; and the base for the events that follow - but no spoilers here. Not yet anyway.

I'd recommend this book, in all its entertaining glory. It's not great reading, by any stretch of the imagination, but a book this entertaining and gripping deserves a read.

JG Ballard - Empire of the Sun

World War II literature is a genre that interests me tremendously. It would be wrong to say that I find it enjoyable, but the fact remains that I actively seek out books on WWII. So far though, most of the WWII fiction (and non-fiction) I've perused has taken place in Europe, so Ballard's much acclaimed Empire of the Sun intrigued me immensely.

The book is a personal not-completely-accurate-and-somewhat-romanticised account of Ballard's childhood where he was living the war, in a war-ravaged Shanghai (which was occupied by the Japanese at the time). The account begins in 1941, and continues till the horrific bombing at Hiroshima on August 6, 1945 and the subsequent devastation in Nagasaki three days later. Jamie, the protagonist, is eleven years old at the start of the story, and we see the War unfold in Shanghai through his innocent eyes. Occasionally child-like, occasionally grown-up, somewhat disoriented, predominantly emotive.

Jamie gets separated from his well-to-do expat parents during one of the Japanese strikes, and eventually, after scrounging around for food at various houses, looking for his parents, or in fact, any Briton, all alone, finds himself at a prison camp, living the survival of the fittest adage. He befriends those who will protect him, continues his schooling thanks to some of the adults at the prison camp, and tries to make the best of the awful situation by finding comfort in the smallest of things, be it having the biggest sweet potato or pocketing one slyly, just in case he needs it in the future, when the paucity of food may become a real issue.

His views are slightly skewed (maybe this is just retrospection talking), as he advocates the Japanese, and in fact, at one point, states that he would like to pilot one of the Japanese aircrafts. A little tentative of change, he gets nervous when the war is drawing to a close, and just wants some kind of stability in the turbulence.

He ate every scrap of food he could find, aware of the rising number of deaths from beri beri and malaria. Jim admired the Mustangs and the Superfortresses, but sometimes he wished that the Americans would return to Hawaii and content themselves with raising their battleships at Pearl Harbour. Then Lunghua Camp would once again be the happy place he had known in 1943.

It's really sad; the rationalisation and the innocence. The prison camps didn't sound as horrific as the concentration camps in Europe, but irrespective, for anyone to live through that is shocking... and for a child, even more so. What... is the point? What was achieved?

But a flash of light filled the stadium, flaring over the stands in the southwest corner of the football field, as if an immense American bomb had exploded somewhere to the northeast of Shanghai. [...] Jim smiled at the Japanese, wishing that he could tell him that the light was premonition of his death, the sight of his small soul joining the larger soul of the dying world.

"Kid, they dropped atomic bombs. Uncle Sam threw a piece of the sun at Nagasaki and Hiroshima, killed a million people. One great flash..."

"I saw it."

All said and done, this book was quite harrowing. What made it a bit of a strange experience, though, was how, at times, it almost read as a documentary - stating facts, narrating events - almost as though the writer was an observer, not an actor. Perhaps that is completely valid, if one thinks about it. Why focus on emotions when the story is powerful enough to evoke extremely strong reactions to the war, its perversity, and the trepidation, monstrosity and futility of it all. It really does fill me with immense despondence and sadness... and even those words feel extremely trite.

Do you recommend any other books set in Asia during the second World War? Or, any other books set during WWII? What is it about that genre that just.... beckons? I almost feel masochistic. Sadistic would be equally apt.

John Green - Paper Towns

It feels like ages since I've read a young-adult book, so when I read a review of this book over at Claire's (@Paperback Reader), I wanted to read the book. Plus, I loved the cover! Reason enough to order this book after a self-imposed four month book buying ban? I think so. I've read a couple of reviews on John Green's books, Looking for Alaska and An Abundance of Katherines, and the reviews have been quite positive as well, so, unsurprisingly, I had high expectations of this book. Luckily, it didn't disappoint. It was a fast-paced page-turner, with incredibly well-drawn out characters, an intelligent plot, and all-in-all, it was just great fun to read.

The way I figure it, everyone gets a miracle. Like, I will probably never be struck by lightening, or win a Nobel Prize, or become the dictator of a small nation in the Pacific Islands, or contract terminal ear cancer, or spontaneously combust. But if you consider all the unlikely things together, at least one of them will probably happen to each of us. I could have seen it rain frogs. I could have stepped foot on Mars. I could have been eaten by a whale. I could have married the Queen of England or survived months at sea. But my miracle was different. My miracle was this: out of all the houses in all the subdivisions in all of Florida, I ended up living next door to Margo Roth Spiegelman

Quentin (or Q), the narrator, has been in love with Margo since forever. As children, they were friends, until they stumbled upon a dead body at the local park. Discovering the dead body changed the relationship between the two nine-year-olds. That night, Margo stood outside Quentin's window, to let him know of the "investigation" she had carried out as to the cause of the death. She loved mysteries and adventures, so much so that, in Quentin's words, she became one. After that night, the two friends just drifted apart.

Fast forward to the future, a few weeks before their high school graduation: one night, Margo re-appears at Quentin's window, looking for an ally on a crazy retribution mission - against an ex-boyfriend and two former best friends - which also includes breaking into Sea World, just for fun! Quentin's grown up to be more cautious and circumspect, whereas Margo's the polar opposite, and during the night out, the two reconnect, and Quentin's convinced that things will be different in school from the next day.

But - Margo's a no-show at school the next day. And the day after. She's basically just disappeared into the oblivion, and no one has any idea as to her whereabouts. But she's left a trail - breadcrumbs, if you like - and it's up to her friends to follow them, for her parents aren't overtly concerned, considering she's pulled the disappearing act before.

This book is about Quentin - and his search for Margo. It's about Margo - and her search to resolve the issues she's battling. But it's more than that for both the teenagers. It's about Quentin figuring out who Margo really is, underneath her ultra-cool demeanour and totally chilled out perspective on life, and eventually, unraveling the mystery that is her. And all this is done with immense story-telling, including observations on paper towns and paper people and Whitman's Leaves of Grass, as well as scattered references to TS Eliot and Moby Dick.

"Here's what's not beautiful about it: from here, you can't see the rust or the cracked paint or whatever, but you can tell what the place really is. You can see how fake it all is. It's not even hard enough to be made of plastic. It's a paper town. I mean look at it Q: look at all those cul-de-sacs, those streets that turn in on themselves, all the houses that were built to fall apart. All those paper people living in their paper houses, burning the future to stay warm. All the paper kids drinking beer that some bum bought for them at the paper convenience store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too. I've lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my life come across anyone who cares about anything that matters."

Thought this was a fabulous book, that I really enjoyed reading, and immersing myself in. I'll be looking out for Green's other books, and can't wait to read them, based on this! Have you read any of the others? What's the verdict?

Also, have you read many books which have loads of Whitman references? If you'd asked me two months ago, I'd say no, but - I've read about three books in the recent past (Specimen Days, Paper Towns and Tipping the Velvet) with numerous Whitman references, which makes me wonder. And it's not just Whitman, but specifically, it's Leaves of Grass. Have any of you read that? I'm planning to, but it's been ages since I've read any poetry, and I'm not convinced Whitman is the way to make my way back to the world of poems?

David Mitchell - Black Swan Green

About five years back, with the launch of the iPod Shuffle, Apple declared "random is the new order" to the world, as "life is random" so we should "give chance a chance." What does any of this have to do with Black Swan Green? Well, nothing, really! However, it does have a lot to do with the way I've approached the works of David Mitchell - Unlike some book bloggers (e.g. Kerry), I haven't read his works in any kind of order; just as and when I got my hands on one of his books. I never had a chance though. I didn't even know who David Mitchell was (yes, I was living in a black hole of sorts) until one of my friends shoved number9dream in my hands, and insisted I read it. From the opening line, which I can still repeat off the top of my head, I was hooked. The rest, as they say, is history.

And so, I started my fourth book by David Mitchell eagerly, not quite knowing what to expect. I knew it was a coming-of-age story, and I half wondered if it would be similar to the surreal number9dream, or well - I didn't really have an alternative.

Black Swan Green is much more of a "traditional" coming-of-age story. In fact, if I didn't know better, I would have assumed it was Mitchell's debut novel - not because of the quality of writing (seriously, I don't think you can fault Mitchell's quality of writing!), but more because the book was a lot more conventional than I'd have expected, specially considering it was released on the back of Cloud Atlas.

It's 1982, the year of the Falklands War. Havoc is wreaking on that front, but thirteen year old Jason is fighting another battle: against bullies, against a stammering problem he can't seem to get rid of, and harbouring a secret that might make him the laughing stock of the school: a secret desire to be a poet. Closer to home, his sister refers to him as "thing," and his parents' marriage is rocky - thirteen, it's a "wonderful miserable age!"

Bluebells swarmed in pools of light where the sun got through the trees. The air smelt of them. Wild garlic smelt of toasted phlegm. Blackbirds sang like they'd die if they didn't. Birdsong's the thoughts of a wood. Beautiful it was, but boys aren't allowed to say "beautiful" 'cause it's the gayest word going.

As opposed to a linear narrative, this book is essentially a set of snapshots in Jason's life as a thirteen year old, focusing on the events that help him mature, as he realises some hard truths about life, be it about his friend's father's alcoholism

"[...]Tell you what it's like, it's like this whiny shitty nasty weepy man who isn't my dad takes my dad over for however long the bender lasts, but only I - and Mum and Kelly and Sally and Max - know that it isn't him. The rest of the world doesn't know that, see. They just say, Frank Moran showing his true colours, that is. But it ain't" Moran twisted his head at me. "But it is. But it ain't.[...]"

or, about the cruelty of war, and how it ruins lives

War's an auction where whoever can pay most in damage and still be standing wins.

Okay, maybe that's a little too profound for a thirteen year old, but the point still stands! Speaking of profundity, how's this:

I've never listened to music lying down. Listening's reading if you close your eyes. Music's a wood you walk through.

And then, you have some mixed with a desperate call for anger management:

Me, I want to kick this moronic bloody world in the bloody teeth over and over till it bloody understands that not hurting people is ten bloody thousand times more important than being right.

Oh! To be thirteen again...

I enjoyed this book, and the various episodes of Jason's life, despite the fact that at times, he really did seem older and wiser than his years (above excerpts withstanding). It was an easy read, but delightful at the same time, and it was a story I could relate to - being someone born in the eighties myself! I got most of the music references, be it Duran Duran, Beatles, Sex Pistols, Joy Division or the infamous "Do the Locomotion". It took me back a long way, and I was reminiscing away about my life and how things were about a decade ago! I could identify with Jason's preoccupations and concerns at times, and I sympathised with him on the whole rivalry with the sibling - been there, done that! My brother and I couldn't possibly be closer now. Oh, how times change...

Have you read any David Mitchell? Any favourites? I still have Ghostwritten to go, so I'm really looking forward to that.

Also, do you have any other favourite coming-of-age stories? I do love reading them - they almost always take me away to a simpler easier time. Do you feel the same as well about comfort reads?

Just as an aside for you David Mitchell fans out there who've read Cloud Atlas as well:

Madame Crommelynck, the daughter of the famous composer in Cloud Atlas, makes an appearance in this book, when she attempts to introduce Jason to European literature. She plays Robert Frobisher's Cloud Atlas Sextet for the teenager, who is awed by it (see quote above). I loved that bit! Any idea if there are any more references to other characters from his previous books that I've missed?

Terry Pratchett - Nation

Don't you love Terry Pratchett books? I do, despite never having read any in my teenage years, and Nation, a non-Discworld story, is no exception. Set in an alternate universe (or a parallel universe, if you like), this is the story of a young boy (Mau) whose homecoming has been ruined by a massive tidal wave, which has completely destroyed his village. There are no survivors, but him; and then he meets another survivor - from a shipwreck. Daphne, a posh British girl, with some royal blood, who doesn't speak the same language as Mau, nor is she accustomed to his kind of lifestyle. As they try getting acquainted with one another, Pratchett exploits the humour surrounding language and cultural differences, keeping the reader thoroughly entertained; be it Daphne cooking for him, or him not realising what pointing a gun at him meant; be it the importance of trousers or the lack of clothes altogether.

As more people seek refuge in the 'Nation', the tone of the book changes. The humour remains, but the book takes a more philosophical turn, exploring ideas of nontheism, as Mau's faith gradually evolves - from hating the gods for taking away the Nation to figuring out the importance of belief. As the two children grow up gradually, the nature of responsibilities they take on, for both - themselves and the people on the island - increases. Mau leads the people as they look for answers, while Daphne learns about breastfeeding, child-bearing and looking after the children of the other women on the island.

I did enjoy this book, despite the last chapter tying things up all too neatly. At the same time, it's important to remember that this is a young adult book, so that should not be surprising.

Jane Austen - Pride and Prejudice

Mee invited all Pride and Prejudice first-timers to a readalong in February. I'd like to start this post by apologising for not finishing the book in the second month of the year itself, but, I got sidetracked with a couple of other things, and well, you know how it goes... Pride and Prejudice is my very first Austen (yes, I'm a book blogger who has never read an Austen. Shame on me!), and there are so many things I want to say about the experience. I'm not going to write a proper "review" with a story recap etc. as, well, most people have a general idea as to what the story's about, and in my opinion, knowing more can ruin the story for them.

That was my major gripe with Pride and Prejudice. I really wish I'd read it as a teenager, as I wasn't aware of the storyline back then. Things have changed since, and much to my displeasure, I discovered that a lot of the feel-goodness of the book was lost as I already knew how things would come together in the end. Further, I also knew how a couple of characters would turn out, which was annoying.

That said, I did still enjoy the book, if for nothing else, the language - oh, how I loved the language! Why don't we speak like that now-a-days? Well-articulated, romantic sentences in proper English (it was the nineteenth century), with appropriate exaggerations? It's a fantastic world to get lost into, and the emphasis is so much more on the dialogue than the ambience. Through the dialogue, you acquaint yourself with the characters, and it's almost as though you're right there with them through everything: the balls and the walks, the ecstasy and the misery, the anger and the lament. You even get to read the letters between the characters, which tells you all the more about them, and by the end of the book, everyone has a favourite: Elizabeth Bennet or Mr. Darcy. Unfortunately, none of the other characters jump off the pages as much as the aforementioned.

Yet, I cannot fault Austen for characterisation. As readers, we're introduced to a myriad of characters who stem from being naively good hearted to downright self-involved and manipulative; from being "airheads" (sorry, but that is the apt twenty-first century term) to being gallant; from being weak-minded or avaricious to having severe delusions of grandeur thanks to association. The people would fit in today's society easily - we see them every day! Some we would judge, and some we'd want for our best friend. Some we'd loathe, and some we'd do our best to bring down to earth. Some we'd instantly have an opinion on, only to be proven wrong. That aspect of timelessness amazes me - are society's virtues and vices inherently still the same across two centuries?

And then, we come to the setting: Austen brilliantly brings out life in the nineteenth century, almost satirically. Imagine a world where girls aren't allowed inheritance, despite the property being owned by their father? How about a world where an embarrassing mother is trying to find an eligible bachelor for five teenage daughters (who really should be in school)? Or, a world where people who earn five thousand pounds annually are considered rich? Where girls are looking out for eligible "Officers" as potential husbands - everyone really has only one thing on their minds?! Some of the essential laws of human survival exist: power rules, money talks, estates wow and some people are better as indifferent acquaintances instead of friends!

I did like the dynamics between the characters as well, specially the Bennet family (including the aunts and uncles). Also, must make a special mention of the relationships between Mr. Darcy and his sister, and Mr. Darcy and his aunt Catherine, for they made the book a lot more rich!

I really did enjoy the book, although, maybe not the story in itself, if that makes sense? Again, I attribute that to me already knowing the way the plot would turn, and hence, missing out on the feel-good factor. Also, some of the romanticism and mushiness was a little much for me, but, I guess that was part and parcel of the nineteenth century, and maybe, in another lifetime, I was Elizabeth Bennet. Well, a girl can dream. :)

Maya Angelou - I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

I've wanted to read this book for ages, simply for the title, which is one of the most beautiful titles I've ever come across. So, I finally picked it up, and it's probably one of the most beautiful autobiographies I've ever read. On reading the blurb, I thought it would be similar to the Pulitzer Prize winning The Color Purple. While both books have a prominent thread of racism running through, the similarities end there. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings is the coming-of-age story of Maya Angelou, born Marguerite Ann Johnson, set in Stamps (Arkansas), St. Louis and San Francisco. Initially, she lives in Stamps with her brother, Bailey, her grandmother who she calls Momma, and her Uncle Willie. Momma, a no-nonsense unemotional religious Christian, owns the only store around, and is respected and well-liked by all - whites and blacks. While their parents are in California (doing goodness knows what), Momma brings the two children up, with proper morals and values. In fact, when Maya uses the phrase "by the way" passingly, she is admonished for using the Lord's name in vain. And she cannot admit to liking Shakespeare, as he was white.

If growing up is painful for the Southern Black girl, being aware of displacement is the rust on the razor that threatens the throat.

It is an unnecessary insult.

When Maya was eight, she went to live with her mother at St. Louis, and was subsequently raped by her mother's then boyfriend. The boyfriend was later killed by her uncles, after the court sentenced him to just about a year in prison, but he was released immediately. This incident casted a shadow over the next few years of her youth, as she was convinced that she had blood on her hands.

However, this wasn't the only thing that cast a shadow in her life: there was the white dentist who Momma had lent money to during the Depression, but when Maya needed her teeth looked at, the dentist refused saying he'd rather put his hand in a dog's mouth. When she graduated eighth grade, and thought she had the whole world in her hands, a speech given by one of the "visitors" served a reminder that the students having ambitions higher than being maids, farmers, handymen and washerwomen were being farcical and presumptuous.

There was the world of the "whitefolk" and the "powhitefolk," both of which were prejudiced against the blacks, despite some of the powhitefolk not having as much as some of the blacks did. There was the emotional upheaval when their father picked them up from Stamps to take them to St. Louis. And of course, the confusion when they returned to Stamps, back to the safe and righteous Momma.

Yet, this book isn't written from the point of view of a "victim" - instead, it' a young girl willing to achieve what she wants against all odds, and her profound insights into the world she lives in - the only world she knows. She talks openly about how her brother is her world, her admiration for one of Momma's customers, the conflicting feelings on meeting her mother - a stranger - again. There's no beating around the bush, no meanderings - just calling a spade a spade. It's innocent and beautifully written. Each chapter can be read as a stand alone story, which, when put together forms a thought-provoking read.

People whose history and future were threatened each day by extinction considered that it was only by divine intervention that they were able to live at all. I find it interesting that the meanest life, the poorest existence, is attributed to God's will, but as human beings become more affluent, as their living standard and style begin to ascend the material scale, God descends the scale of responsibility at a commensurate speed.

I absolutely loved this book, and can't recommend it highly enough. This book is the first of the six autobiographies she wrote, and I'll try picking up the next in the volume, as the ending of the first book does make you wonder about how it all ties in, eventually.

J.K. Rowling - Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix {Audio Book}

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is the fifth book in the popular Harry Potter series. I've read the book thrice: when it first came out, before the release of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Price, and of course, prior to the final book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, hitting the stores. One of my friends insisted I hadn't lived until I heard the Harry Potter audio books, and she proceeded to lend me six of the seven.

Needless to say, I was a tad bemused when I imported this to iTunes, and saw that the audio spanned twenty-eight hours. Reading the book took about seven hours. Four times more for the audiobook? However, I did finish it in five days, and, I enjoyed every second of it.

Stephen Fry narrated the story, and he did a marvellous job! He handled the emotions, the voices and the arias scenes incredibly, and actually brought J.K. Rowling's book to life. My imagination was running wild with his narration, and I was totally floored. What made the experience even better was, a couple of hours into the book, and I could actually pinpoint the voices, without having to wait for the "Hermione said quietly", or "Harry groaned" which ends most of Rowling's dialogues. Maybe reading the book helped with that, but, I was still impressed.

Order of the Phoenix takes off where Goblet of Fire ended, and the content of the book is much more mature, and significantly darker. At the end of Goblet of Fire, The Dark Lord rises again, and his followers, the Death Eaters rush to serve him again. Harry battles him, and somehow manages to survive - again! He returns to Hogwarts, and breaks the news to everyone, before school ends for the summer holidays.

In Order of the Phoenix, Harry is stuck with his Muggle family, with no word from the wizarding world whatsoever. He subscribes to the newspaper, Daily Prophet, but the front page is always bland and doesn't mention the return of Lord Voldemort at all. Even worse, the letters he's sent by his friends are superficial, with no real news about what's going on. And then - one night, his cousin and he are attacked by Dementors, who he manages to drive away, using an advanced spell. What follows is a note from the Ministry of Magic, saying Harry has been expelled from school, due to practicing magic outside school premises. Soonafter, this is rescinded, and instead, Harry has to appear for a hearing, which will deem whether he's expelled or not.

Within a few days, some Aurors (wizards who fight dark arts) come to pick up Harry and take him to his godfather's place, which is also the headquarters for The Order Of The Phoenix - a secret organisation that fights the Dark Arts, and protects the innocent who might be the target of the Dark Lord. When Harry arrives there, he is informed that the Ministry is turning a blind eye to the return of You-Know-Who, and instead, trying to undermine the efforts of Dumbledore - the only wizard that Voldemort has ever feared - as well as discredit Harry.

Despite the Ministry's best efforts, Harry is cleared of all charges, and returns to Hogwarts, to find that the Ministry has decided to impose its authority on the school as well - employing Dolores Umbridge as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. In my opinion, Umbridge might be one of the most villainous characters in the Harry Potter series (and, in fact, in children's literature). In fact, she makes Miss Trunchbull from Matilda seem angelic!

Not only is Umbridge the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but she is also the High Inquisitor, and with help from the Ministry, passes new rules and regulations, which essentially gives her supreme dictatorial power over every teacher and student at Hogwarts bar Dumbledore.

Harry is miserable back at school, due to the new changes, and tries to find happiness in the smallest things - which, Umbridge revokes one by one. Being the year of their OWL examinations, academic pressure is high as well, and of course, there is the small matter of Harry's scar hurting, and the teenager feeling the same emotions as Voldemort - and, even seeing some of the things that Voldemort does. As per every Harry Potter book, a battle scene is mandatory at the end, and Harry and his friends are forced to take on the Death Eaters and Voldemort once more... with the added pleasure of dealing with Professor Umbridge.

As I've said before, this book is far darker than any of its predecessors. Not only in terms of the magical world, but, also, in terms of the dictatorial regime that seems to be cast over the whole wizarding world. When Harry gives an interview to a newspaper, recounting the events of the previous year, he is handed with a week's worth of detention. Free speech isn't allowed, apparently. Not only that, but, the newspaper is banned from the school premises and, Umbridge has threatened severe action if she sees anyone with the newspaper. All societies, teams, groups, and organisations that have more than three students needs to be signed off by Umbridge - including the Gryffindor quidditch team. And, when Harry gets into a spat with Malfoy, who insults the Weasleys as well as his dead mother, Harry is the one who bears the brunt of the punishment, while Malfoy walks away scot-free.

The fear of losing power (to Dumbledore) is what keeps the Ministry going - not the welfare and safety of the "subjects" of their kingdom. Spies are everywhere, and, no one knows who to is trustworthy, and who will turn out to be a sneak. It looks like Voldemort has successfully managed dividing the wizarding community, without even trying, and at the end of the day, that's the kind of thing he does best : divide, conquer, rule.

Rating : A+ {for Stephen Fry's narration}

Stephanie Meyer - Twilight

If you love the Twilight books, I suggest you don't continue reading this review, despite the fact that it's going to be a really short one. Nope - I didn't enjoy the book, and worse, I didn't see any point to it. I struggled to page 279, and then, I just gave up. On one hand, I do congratulate myself for getting that far, but on the other, I berate myself for wasting that much time. The saving grace is, I didn't buy the books, but borrowed them from a friend, and she's going to get three of them back completely untouched. So, the "story" in a nutshell:

Girl (Bella) moves to her father's, after her mother re-marries and wants to travel with her new husband. While living with her mother, Bella is a misfit, but at Forks, she's cool, and all the boys at school seem to have a crush on her. Yet, she has eyes on only one: Edward. He harbours a dark secret, which she discovers, and despite that, the two of them cannot stay away from one another.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Edward was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him - and I didn't know how dominant that part was - that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

Most of the book had me wincing with the cheesy lines, and cringing with the constant Adonis and Greek god references. Yes, I know it's for teenagers and young adults - but, it's so gushy, that, I was literally wondering why I was continuing to read it. Of course, when I came across the below, I snapped the book shut. I'd reached my saturation point:

"What am I going to do with you?" he groaned in exasperation. "Yesterday I kiss you, and you attack me! Today you pass out on me!"

[...]

"No - that wasn't the same kind of fainting at all. I don't know what happened." I shook my head apologetically. "I think I forgot to breathe".

I'm just not going to bother rating this book, as I definitely wasn't the target audience, and it's probably my own fault for seeking it out. Guess it's a love it or hate it book, and I unfortunately fell in the latter category.

Oh well...

Michelle Magorian - Goodnight Mr. Tom

This incredibly poignant well written story tackles various important and sensitive topics, some of which are still valid today, despite the book being set around the time of the second World War.

Set in the English countryside, Michelle Magorian tells the story of Willie, a timid little specimen, who is an evacuee from London, and is made to stay with the reticent grumpy Tom Oakley, who Willie calls Mr. Tom.

Mr. Tom is thoroughly unprepared for the scared nervous creature that's at his doorstep, as he half-expects the evacuee stereotype - the wild ill-mannered children, who cause more chaos than anything else. However, he soon finds out that Will has been continuously abused by his mother, and his small body is covered with sores and bruises. But - the psychological damage surpasses the physical, as Willie cowers at the thought of getting on the wrong side of Mr. Tom, and is petrified of doing anything to annoy him. He also wets his bed, throws up his food, expects absolutely nothing, and tries to shut out the world around him, as his mother has brainwashed him into believing that people will only like him if he's invisible and quiet.

However, Mr. Tom has demons of his own. Ever since the death of his beloved Rachel and son, he had resigned himself from village activities, and kept to himself, grieving alone. Yet, when Willie walks into his life, unexpectedly, he attempts to change, and provides the young boy with a happy home, almost selflessly. Be it clothes, food, shoes, or spending time narrating stories or organising surprise birthday parties!

A children's book, there is no surprise that Will (calling someone Willie sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?) overcomes his childhood traumas, makes friends, works hard, and is a talented artist, under the protective loving care of Mr. Tom - the hero. Yet, half way through the book, Will gets a letter from his mother in London, who is ill, and wants him back...

This story will make you laugh, and it will make you cry. You'll hate the woman that's Will's mother, but you'll wish for more Mr. Toms in this world. You'll mourn the tragedy of war, but cherish the permanence of friendship, and you'll come to terms with life not being fair, but, things having a way of working out - eventually.

As a children's book, this is incredible. Yet, as an adult, I found this book a little too simple, without the raw emotion I'd love to see in a book like this, which could bring it to life. Of course, one can argue that it might not be a book for children then...

Rating: B+