Soulless and Changeless

Soulless and Changeless (Parasol Protectorate Series)

By: Gail Carriger

Genre: Historical Urban Fantasy Mystery/Steampunk
Grade: A-
Rating: PG-13/R


I would be neglectful to let these books go unreviewed. I was pleasantly surprised to come across these books from a list of recommendations from another reader I trust. Thanks, Wendy D! Soulless is Pride and Prejudice and Zombies meets Harper Connelly meets Lady Emily. A unique and refreshing romp through a world I've been getting quite tired of.

Spinster Alexia Tarabott was put on the shelf years ago. She's half-Italian and strong witted with a large nose and barbed tongue. She seems to happily sit on the edge of polite society with no romantic expectations. Oh and she doesn't have a soul.

See in this alternative view of the turn of the 19th century industrialized London, every yin has a yang. Werewolves and vampires (I know, I know... its sad that I'm reading another GD vampire book- but not really a vampire book) are fully integrated into polite society and seem to have an overabundance of soul (only those with strong souls are convertible as it were). But Tarabott is the opposite. She had no soul, which only apparent side effect is that when she touches something supernatural, it reverts to human form until she breaks contact- neither human nor supernatural.

Tarabott ends up inadvertently and rather inconveniently killing a vampire at a house party (with a parasol) bringing in the furry form of Scottish DAR agent, Lord Conall Maccon (werewolf) to investigate. Throw in a group of scientists who worship a golden octopus, a gay vampire best friend, an alternative universe inclusive of invention, religion, and new societal norms and this mystery with a twist is over before you knew it began. Carriger has brought something intriguing and new to a genre that has been beaten to death over the past decade, by cleverly combining urban fantasy mystery with steampunk- painting a rich canvas to explore.

I have also recently finished the second book in this series, Changeless. The sequel was just as good (if not better) than Soulless, this time following Tarabott (now Lady Maccon) up to Scotland in an attempt to find her husband. The mystery in the second was much more prominent, as Carriger had the opportunity to introduce and flushed out her main characters quite nicely in the first book. Lady Maccon continues to challenge the norms set for women, wives and alphas in this steampunk, romantic romp. The imagery is desisive, impressive and hard- perfectly balanced with our heroine's personality. The new characters are endearingly used as foils and satire... and then shockingly forces unto themselves. I will have to say that it was one of the tightest mysteries I have read in quite a while. No Scooby Do mystery here. Though the romance in this series is clearly secondary, there is no lack of emotional connection to the players. The end of Changless was heartbreaking, I have already pre-ordered the next installment Blameless, which is supposed to be released in September. (I hope they don't jerk me around on my Kindle pre-order. This is me shaking my fist at Amazon.)

I whole-heartedly recommend Carriger's Parasol Protectorate series and can't wait to see what happens next.

Floundering Again...

I've been reading a lot lately... ok, I read a lot normally. I have been reading more than normal lately. Part of this is due to the lack of anything good to watch on T.V. I've been slightly enchanted by Glee and regularly watch The Good Wife, but other than giving House or Bones an occasional glance I could do without the T.V. entirely. Well, until June and TrueBlood- but that's another unhealthy journal entry.

I'm being diligent about Traveling Mercies, using is more as a daily point of inspiration than a novel. But otherwise, I have been floundering in my selections, stopping midway to read something else and come back. This is unlike me. I follow through even when painful, but my attention is scattered. I'm midway through Immortal in Death and now threw down Embers if a fit of disgust last night. If I can't keep my attention on a book, I can't get truly sucked in and that's always what I'm looking for.

I have finished a few books since my last entry, but nothing that memorable. I read yet another Elizabeth Rolls, but definitely think I need more time between her books. They are generally good little escapes, but I feel ridiculous reading them at present. I also finished Storm Born in another series by Richelle Mead. I'm diligently trying to get enamored with her after some other trusted readers I know recommended both the Georgia Kincaid and the Dark Swan series, but I have a bad case of the icks or perhaps more accurately the indifferents. It isn't as if Storm Born was a bad book and I will likely eventually sit down to read the sequel Thorn Queen. I just don't feel that compelled to know what happens next, which is extremely unusual.

I've been switching between Urban Fantasy mystery and Regency series too much lately. Perhaps its time to go back to solid mysteries for a while again. Change in genre- maybe that's what I need.

I am excited about a few upcoming titles. The new Sookie Stackhouse is coming to a Kindle near you on May 4th. The new Blackdagger Brotherhood is out April 27th (though they are jacking me around on whether it will be offered on the Kindle or not). I'm also pretty stoked to read Soulless by Gail Carriger that I discovered last week. I'm waiting for my trip to KY this weekend to try that one out. Guess I'm not doing a very good job with that change in genre thing.

Where is my literary dignity?

It is a fleeting and cruel mistress. I have never really understood why people are so much snootier about what they read then about what they watch. I mean, people admit to watching American Idol and Big Brother and those stupid reality TV shows on MTV all of the time without a hint of embarrassment, but you pull a romance off the shelf in Kroeger out of sheer boredom and somehow you are less of a reader because you read anything you can get your hands on.

I'm guilty of it. I glance at what people are reading in the coffee shop or the bus and I make some pretty harsh judgments about their intellect and their taste. I have so many friends that are purists or writers themselves- that always seem to be reading from the lists you should be reading from. You know, a little Faulkner, Hemingway, Steinbeck, Austen, Orwell, Fitzgerald, Homer, Tolstoy Fest... all those books you are supposed to read before you die. They are the best 50 or 100 or 1000 books of all time. And don't get me wrong, I love all of those authors. Some of my favorite books are classics. See? I'm doing it again. I'm trying to prove I have literary street cred. I'm a good little reader, honest.

It is probably another reason I love the Kindle so much. I don't have to front, I just get to read. I can read whatever I want, whenever I want and no one glances at my book cover and thinks less of me. Wow, I didn't realize I had all of these reading insecurities.

But ultimately, reading is supposed to be a form of entertainment, right? And maybe the problem is that everyone is obsessed (at least in my circles) with the next great American (or not) novel is. Why read if it isn't the best or impressive or what everyone else is supposed to be reading? But I don't want to watch Casablanca or the African Queen or Singing in the Rain all of the time because they are great movies, classics. Some times, I want something dumb or trifling or only somewhat clever, but entertaining.

I only watch 2 or 3 TV shows a week. The rest of my mindless entertainment happens to be reading. And frankly, I don't want to read about politics, the labor movement, and social justice when I get home. I want the literary high that I jones for. I want that- I need to find out what happens, ponder the characters existence, is there another book in this series feeling- that I don't get with my methodical plodding through Steinbeck's Cannery Row (hands down one of my favorite books) or the dance I do with Faulkner's Barn Burning.

I know that I'm not alone. It just takes a quick glance at the NY Time's Bestseller list this week to know that not everyone is reading the classics or even something that wouldn't get you snorted at during a happy hour. I mean Chelsea Handler has 3 titles in the top 10 on the damn thing. And the hardcover bestseller is: SILVER BORNE, by Patricia Briggs. (In the fifth book starring Mercy Thompson, a shapeshifter and auto mechanic in Washington State, Mercy works on her relationship with the leader of the werewolf pack and helps a suicidal friend.) Now, I have never read Ms. Briggs, but my guess is that the urban fantasy genre is getting way more play than anyone is admitting.

So in the interest of full disclosure, I'm going to list my last 10 read- whether I have been too embarrassed to review them or admit to reading them:

Traveling Mercies (still reading) by Anne Lamott
Immortal in Death (still reading) by J.D. Robb
Gemini Tiger (still reading) by tommy jonq
Succubus Blues by Richelle Mead
Mind Games by Carolyn Crane
A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick
A Compromised Lady by Elizabeth Rolls
Dreamfever (reread) By Karen Marie Moning
A Bride in the Bargain by Deeane Gist
Utopia by Sir St Thomas Moore
Pride and Prejudice and Zoombies (reread) by Seth Grahame-Smith

Wow, I actually feel a little better. Thanks.

Recently Discovered- Carolyn Crane

Mind Games

By: Carolyn Crane

Genre: Fiction, Urban Fantasy (Yes, I said it)
Rating: R
Grade: B+
Sticking with the Author: Yes, second book in the series comes out in September.

Ever since I got sucked into Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse world (the series upon which the HBO series TrueBlood is based), I have occasionally taken her advice on new reads. I generally don't mind a little romp in the Urban Fantasy genre, though my tolerance for vampire and werewolf novels is relatively low. I don't want to have to learn an entire new language or caste of people populating a new reality. It's too much for me. I have a hard enough time with English and my own socio-economic realities, thank you very much.

But, I like a little Sherrilyn Kenyon every now and again (though I greatly prefer her League series to the Darkhunters- which has become way over played). And when I don't have anything better to read, I often go back to the old reliable JD Robb "In Death" series. Innocent, though slightly embarrassing distractions. I needed some brain candy after my last book.

I was pleasantly surprised with Carolyn Crane's debut novel, Mind Games. No vampires, no werewolves, no fairies- thank you Jesus! We meet Justine (Crane should have really rethought the heroine's name), who is a full blown hypochondriac, convinced she is going to die from vein star disease (which sounds like something like an aneurysm). Her mother was a bit of a health freak too, but actually died of the disease when Justine was only 13. She is crippled in fear and hospital debt from the late night ER visits where no one can find anything wrong. Crane's prose was fascinating, making one wonder if she, herself, may of had more than a few late night calls to the hospital. Justine knows she is irrational, but can't help herself.

She goes to dinner one night with her oh-so-very-normal boyfriend, Chubby (yes, unfortunate on the name front) and meets the owner of the restaurant, Packard. Packard has the ability to see a person's psychological structure (referred to as a hicap) and can see our girl, Justine, is about a hop, skip and a jump from the psych ward. Seems Packard has the ability to siphon on Justine's bad juju and fear and make her feel normal, but there's a catch. Packard wants to teach Justine how to dump her bad stuff into bad people in an attempt to "disillusion" them. This is basically an attempt to play on the fears and neurosis of criminals and reboot them, make them better people. She isn't the only one. Seem Packard has gather a rather motley little crew of people that shoot their brand of fear into others, giving them both the freedom to live without their stifling brand of psychological poison and the added bonus of being a rather well paid vigilante.

Of course, nothing is as it seems. Packard never leaves his restaurant and you find he is actually incapable of it. Further, his own freedom may just be more important to him then his little troop of disillusionists. And Justine is hella attracted to Packard (and visa versa), even after she finds the web of lies he has spun. And we have a gorgeously neurotic police chief, Otto Sanchez (I know, seriously with these names?) Oh, which beautiful boy to trust?

I liked Justine. She was imperfect and believable. You putt all your eggs in her basket, as it were and her well-being becomes quickly important to you. I felt Packard's character had a great start, but his development quickly drowned midway through. Also, I do think there were just too many characters to keep track of. The main disillusionists were well developed and necessary to the storyline, I just felt like she was popping extras in for the hell of it. It was hard to keep everyone's brand of crazy straight.

Overall, a quick read (though actually pretty long for the genre- 384 pages), thoroughly entertaining and surprising. I was actually quite impressed with the writing. Though sparse, Crane has a way of describing things in wholly unexpected ways. I liked that though she described the physical dimensions of those around her, she (and by extension the reader) relate more to their psychological characteristics. The book could have ended where it was, but it appears as though there will be three in total. The next in the series comes out in September- Double Cross. Lavar already pre-ordered it for me, so I'm looking forward to it.

Finally....

A Reliable Wife

By Robert Goolrick

Genre: Fiction
Rating: R
Grade: A-

It took me an unforgivably long time to finish this book. For some reason, I had a hard time with it even though I found it easily written. Goolrick has only previously written non-fiction, specifically a memoir about sexual trauma he experienced as a child in the End of the World as We Know It. This was an odd departure from that. Apart from the subject matter, I found the writing completely different, both in tone and candance. Having such an affinity for his previous book, I couldn't help but be slightly disappointed for the first few chapters.

Reading some of the review summaries before I metaphorically cracked the spine, I expected some sort of existential bonice-ripper. I think, in part, it was that. But, I still find myself scratching my head, only knowing that I enjoyed the book though not entirely sure why.

The book begins in 1907 with Ralph Truitt, the richest man in his little Wisconsin town, meeting his new bride, who has responded (rather dishonestly) to an add he had placed in the paper for a simple, honest wife. Instead, he finds Catherine Land, a woman completely unexpected (especially considering the picture she had sent him was of a different women). I'm giving nothing away when I say that Catherine has ulterior motives. She comes with a small vial of arsenic and intends on slowly poisoning her new husband and inheriting his money. On the way back to his place after picking her up at the train station, they hit a rut in the road. Ralph is thrown from the carriage and Catherine is forced to nurse him back to health before they can marry.

Ralph has spent the majority of his adult life miserable after he had cast his first wife from his home after finding her canoodling with the Italian piano teacher. His disabled daughter died long ago in his arms and his son (who is most likely the piano teacher's son) ran off to escape the perpetual beatings. For the last twenty years, Ralph has held the financial well being of an entire community on his shoulders. He has been kind, fair, honest... and completely miserable. He is surrounded by a town full of people that depend on him, but do not know him. He is surrounded by a town full of people that go insane during the long winters and commit heinous crimes. He goes to their trials and their funerals.

He finds a strange sort of happiness with Catherine, both the ease of married companionship and the fulfillment of sexual need. And she finds something similar in him. The ability to rest, to see the middle of things and perhaps contemplate a life with him- even though, drop by drop she is killing him.

The story twists and turns in unexpected ways. I'm rarely surprised, but never saw many of the twists coming. I don't want to give anything unexpected away, because in this case the unfolding of the plot is the essential joy of the book. It is ultimately a story about our ability to forgive almost anything, and finding unique and unimaginable ways to be redeemed.

No character is completely likable, but no one is completely lost either. Though I'm still not sure why, I loved this book.