A group of teens, an escaped serial killer, and an ancient evil in the woods. An opening line which reads: “The week I saw seventeen people die didn’t begin with blood, monsters, or a sadistic serial killer. It began with a baseball game.”
I regret only that I didn’t read this in time to put it on my Scary Reads list. The story is about a small town in Indiana called Shadeland, home to Will Burgess. Will is a seventeen-year-old in a rough situation–fatherless, mother addicted to painkillers, responsible for his little sister Peach.
On top of that, the notorious Moonlight Killer has escaped from prison and made a beeline for Will’s town. And as if a serial killer lurking weren’t enough, there’s an even more ancient evil lurking in Savage Hollow, the area just beyond Will’s house. Monsters of all types collide, and it’s up to Will to save everyone he cares about.
The narrative voice is strong, the characters are likable, and the horror is built with atmosphere and building tension as well as some nicely gory scenes. Part human horror and part monster story, this is a scary novel with plenty of blood and a very high body count. The open, foreboding ending is great, too. It’s also got its funny moments to relieve some of the tension. If you like slasher flicks and monster movies this time of year, give this a try.
Careful out there, fellow Halloweenies. Don’t let the Wendigos bite.
If I’m going to keep on top of this challenge I’ve really gotta up my game here. I’ll try an approach that worked for me in middle school: I’ll do all the easy stuff first and then save the stuff I find more challenging–like poetry–until later on.
Well….”worked” in that I was annoyed and sleepy and sometimes close to tears by the time midnight rolled around and I was still plugging away at my crumpled and tear-stained geometry homework, but everything still got done.
My easy challenge pick was # 18: A book with a blue cover.
I enjoy cooking memoirs. Mostly because I’m obsessed with food and I think cooking and baking are two of the most fun things ever. Most of my time each week is taken up with carefully planning dinner menus, strategizing for left-overs, and painstakingly deciding on side dishes. I read (and collect) wire-bound small-town church-supper cookbooks. I spend weeks before big holidays outlining my game plan. I get excited about pickling things and making jam. I feel a sense of accomplishment and pride when, in an afternoon, I have a loaf of bread cooling on the counter, a braise in the oven, and the cookie jar is full.
And the cookbooks. I’ve read Marjorie Mosser’s Good Maine Food and Eleanor Early’s New England Cookbook several times each–the latter is falling apart from use. When it comes to learning about what the world eats and getting a voyeuristic thrill from peeping into other peoples’ kitchens, Hungry Planet is one of my all-time favorites, and one to have on my personal bookshelf one day. I love to read about how others interact with food, how they cook, their challenges and misadventures, and their accomplishments in the kitchen.
So I’ll admit that, personally, I was a little disappointed by how little time was afforded to The Global Table Adventure in this memoir. I was expecting more of a Julie and Julia vibe, all based around the project. (As an aside, I admit that I enjoy the structure and categorizing and planning and accomplishment that comes with a project, so much so that I like to experience them vicariously in food writing memoirs,)
I came in wanting to hear about the challenges of obtaining specialty ingredients for a cooking project. I wanted to know how different cultures around the world treat the potato. I loved her style and the way she told her story, and I really liked her insights into the power of cooking and sharing food–I was just left wishing there was more of the practical. Those who enjoy personal journeys of family and self, getting over grief and loss, will probably not have the same issue. And, granted, Martin takes care to explain her choice in her introduction and I totally understand why she decided to tell her story the way she did. It’s a lovely memoir and Martin discusses food very well.
I am pleased to report that Global Table Adventure is an AMAZING website. If you want more of the global cooking, research, and the process, go there. It’s fantastic content-wise, well-designed, and includes some great recipes.
Still more zombies? It’s 2014, and there are still waves of the undead? I guess the zombie scourge never really goes away, does it? Even when we think we’re safe and rebuilding society. Most of the marketing for this novel is hiding the fact that it’s a zombie story, but I’m not going to play along. You figure it out pretty early on.
But there is some good news. The Girl With All the Gifts by M.R. Carey is original and refreshing, supplies sufficient gore and sufficient heart, and actually has believable science behind the explanation for zombies.
Completely Personal Opinion Ahead: I loved this book. I loved it unreservedly and could find nothing wrong with it at all. It’s on my favorites list for 2013. This is the first time this year, I think, that I’ve been able to say that wholeheartedly and without any quibbling about a new novel.
That said, this is a tough novel, and one that probably won’t appeal to everyone. The Panopticon is not anything like what you might infer from the dust jacket description. It certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. I mean that in the best possible way. From what I read about the book I was led to believe that this was one of those dystopia sort of novels, with the girl vs. the establishment plotline as its centerpiece. I have no doubt this was precisely what the marketing department wanted me to think.
That is not what The Panopticon is. At all. Instead, it’s a story about a troubled but fundamentally kind and honorable fifteen-year-old girl named Anais. She is in the Panopticon (a home for chronic juvenile offenders) while the police try to uncover whether or not she beat a police officer nearly to death. Her sometime boyfriend is in prison, and the foster mother who she loved and had lived with longer than any other was murdered. There’s a lot of bleakness in Anais’s life, and a lot of trauma in her history. Sometimes it’s tough to feel sympathy for her in light of her actions, but that just makes her so much more real.
This novel is compelling, affecting, and tip-top in the unreliable narrator department. Anais’s story isn’t a comfortable one to read, but it’s one that makes you care about her and feel invested in what happens to her. Fagan displays a real talent for tone and for character voices, and her writing style is reminiscent of Irvine Welsh. There’s also a bit of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest here, in the sense that these kids in the Panopticon band together and rebel against an establishment that fails them repeatedly.
As for the unreliable narrator aspect…Anais does a lot of drugs. A lot of drugs. All through the novel she talks about the Experiment, and people who fade in and out of the walls. This Experiment, Anais believes, grew her in a test tube and now follows her everywhere, just waiting. We’re in Anais’s head the entire time for this novel, so it’s really up to you to decide whether she’s delusional.
I was very reminded of Lisa O’Donnell’s The Death of Bees while reading The Panopticon. This novel has a heck of a lot in common with Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh, too. Girlchild by Tupelo Hassman and The Sweet In-Between by Sheri Reynolds are both excellent novels about girls with troubled home lives and pasts who nonetheless find strength and support networks for themselves. (Click here for my review of The Sweet In-Between.) Winter’s Bone by Daniel Woodrell might also be a good choice for readers who enjoy bleak, tough stories with a strong protagonist and a Western sort of feel.
As I mentioned, this book owes a lot to One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey, so that could also be a readalike. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess might also appeal to some who liked The Panopticon, but only if you want to go even further into completely bleak and disturbing territory.
I absolutely loved this novel. I was swept up and compelled all the way through. Anais and her story got to me on a visceral level, which is exactly what I love to have happen when I read a book. I was sad and uncomfortable and moved and angry and sympathetic all by turns while reading The Panopticon. A great read, and one I’ll be talking up at the circulation desk.
I’ll tell you straight, readers: this book is not for everyone. But if you’re one of the people it’s for, you will love it. I don’t think there’s much in-between with a story like this, but others may disagree.
As Rotters opens, Joey’s mother has recently died in a tragic accident. Alone in the world, he’s sent to live with his father in a remote town in Iowa. A father that he’s never met, and that his mother never talked about. Joey arrives at his new home to find that his father has a very bad reputation. With good reason, as it turns out–Joey’s dad robs graves for a living.
I’ve completed my first book for the Vacationland Summer Reading Challenge!
Tomato Red by Daniel Woodrell
(3, a novel with “red” in the title) Continue reading →
Aliens have invaded Earth. Only now it’s not Earth–it’s Smekland, named for the glorious and brave Boov leader, Captain Smek. These aliens have kidnapped Gratuity “Tip” Tucci’s mom, and are relocating all humans to Florida. So now Tip is on a quest to save her mom, along with her cat Pig and her unlikely new Boov friend, J. Lo. Continue reading →
Special Topics in Calamity Physics is one of those novels that asks you to think, to go back over the Introduction once you’ve finished, to look for new clues and new meanings in chapter headings and lines of dialogue.
It’s the sort of novel that immerses the reader in a world of eccentric academics, esoteric reading material, and Big Ideas.
It’s the kind of novel that features a narrator with such a strong voice that your speech patterns and writing style are influenced for days after you finish it. Continue reading →