In Which Trai Reviews 'A Princess of Mars' and 'John Carter'

The Book: A Princess of Mars (Barsoom, Book 1)

The Author: Edgar Rice Burroughs

How I Found It: My father was a great fan of the books, and I was really intrigued by the movie trailer last summer. This book is in the public domain and can be read for free!

The Review: I am finally back, with a review that might be slightly muddled thanks to how long a hiatus I had to end up taking--so long that I read this book in February and March and am only just reviewing it now! I apologize greatly for the hiatus; my semester ended up busier than planned and I was not only unable to read as much as I would have liked, I had absolutely no time to put my thoughts down in reviews.

John Carter's story really begins with someone else--that someone being Edgar Rice Burroughs himself. A trusted nephew of Carter's, Burroughs receives word when he dies and goes to Carter's estate, only to be greeted with strange instructions in his uncle's will. He is not to be embalmed, and wishes to be laid in an open coffin in a specially built tomb... one that opens from the inside. He has also entrusted to Burrough's care a manuscript that must be read only after eleven years have passed, and only divulged to the masses after another twenty-one. The manuscript left behind is the story we're reading.

The story is, as one might expect, every bit as strange as the instructions John Carter left behind him. It begins with reminiscences on John Carter's experiences in Arizona, and with these words:

I am a very old man; how old I do not know. Possibly I am a hundred,possibly more; but I cannot tell because I have never aged as othermen, nor do I remember any childhood. So far as I can recollect I havealways been a man, a man of about thirty. I appear today as I didforty years and more ago, and yet I feel that I cannot go on livingforever; that some day I shall die the real death from which there isno resurrection. I do not know why I should fear death, I who havedied twice and am still alive; but yet I have the same horror of it asyou who have never died, and it is because of this terror of death, Ibelieve, that I am so convinced of my mortality.

John has an out of body experience shortly after seeing his friend and business partner brutally murdered by Native Americans on the Arizona hills, and ends up in a mysterious cave. His spirit, his soul, is transported off Earth when he stretches his arms out to Mars, or Barsoom, which he can see in the sky.

Mars is a strange and dangerous new experience for our hero, who doesn't quite do himself any favors by landing near a hatchery for martian young. He is quickly captured by green Martians, or Tharks, and valued as a warrior thanks to Mars' reduced gravity affording him the ability to jump unnaturally high and his experience as a veteran giving him superior combat skills. But John Carter is not the only prisoner of the Tharks--soon there is Dejah Thoris, the red princess of the martians of Helium, whom Carter swears to protect and return to her people. Along the way, he will evade and be captured by many races of martian, but his love for Dejah Thoris and his desire to protect her remains his primary goal.

I was eager to read this not only after seeing the trailer for the film, but when I learned it was one of the most influential works of science fiction there is, and the first work to really explore and flesh out a planet besides our own. Sometimes, while reading it, I was stunned to realize that a work of science fiction written in the 1800s could have so influenced our depictions of Mars and martians today. For a two hundred year old book, the language was accessible and easily understood, and I was pleased by how quickly it read.

Of course, having been written two hundred years ago, by today's standards it might not be considered quite so polished. Yes, it has colonialist undertones. Yes, John's a bit too perfect, and frequently describes himself in terms of his own importance. And yes, to me, it did eventually read as a catalogue of "John gets kidnapped by this alien race, and this alien race, and this alien race..." But I took all these things with a grain of salt--it was pulpy and fun and just nice to read about another planet as a fun, exciting escape whenever I could squeeze in a few pages on TARDIS.

I think the thing that ended up grabbing me most about the story was the characters. While, yes, John is a bit perfect, he's an engaging narrator and relates the differences of Mars in terms a reader can easily picture--I read a reviewer who stated it bothered him that John would preface a description with how we had nothing like this creature/plant/etc. on Earth, but then would go on to equate it to an Earth something, but honestly, it worked better for me than having to picture something based on a bizarre description. Dejah Thoris' dynamic with John, driven by their different attitudes towards courtship (John's ignorance of martian norms, Dejah Thoris' bristling at Earth customs), had me looking forward to their scenes together. Woola, the martian watchdog, was priceless and touchingly devoted to John. Sola, the female Thark assigned to guard John in the beginning of the story, has an interesting backstory and a strong presence as a female character--indeed, between her and Dejah Thoris, I was pleased to see women play such important roles in a story (a science fiction story, no less!) written so long ago.

While, like I said, the plot sometimes dragged due to John's endless captures, the action scenes are stirring and vividly depicted, the characters are strong, and the book is really easy to read--although it does end on a cliffhanger, as I'm sure was typical of fiction back then that was meant to be serialized, written by authors who earned their bread and butter on such stories.

By now nearly everyone knows that John Carter, the movie, was a flop financially, one of the biggest of this year. Many agree that the movie's flop was not indicative of poor quality, however, but of poor promotion and marketing. I read an article sometime around the movie's release where John Carters in all fifty states were called and asked if they were going to see the movie. Thanks to the title not including John's "of Mars" suffix, many of the men asked if it was the same John Carter they'd read about as a kid. If the title had been kept, the movie would perhaps have appealed more to those who'd heard about it but hadn't looked it up to verify just what it was about.

The movie trims down John's numerous captures and focuses on the war between the Tharks, the Helium red martians, and the Zodangan red martians, therefore eliminating one of the elements of the book that didn't work for me. Some elements are changed or refocused, but the essential story remains the same, and the cast performs admirably. Taylor Kitsch's John Carter is given a more heartrending backstory, and makes the most of his comedic early attempts to move on Mars and then, later, of being an action hero. Lynn Collins' Dejah Thoris gets many chances to fight and move in on the action. Dominic West, as Sab Than, is more of a threat here, thanks to weaponry bestowed on him by the film. I really enjoyed Samantha Morton's voice work as Sola, who remained true to the complex character I'd liked in the book. But the real standout is Woola, the martian watchdog I mentioned earlier--he's a riot!

Overall, both the film and the book are worth giving a chance if you've not heard of them and are interested in the beginnings of science fiction. Many critics said that the movie has a little bit of every science fiction hero you've ever loved, and that's part of the fun of both the book and the movie. Reading it, you'll see where so much of our martian lore and depictions came from. And aren't we all a little bit curious about life on Mars?

In Which Trai Reviews 'Doctor Who: Touched by an Angel'

The Book: Doctor Who: Touched by an Angel

The Author: Jonathan Morris

How I Found It: I was really curious to see how a book featuring the Weeping Angels would go, as they're such visual monsters that I wasn't sure they'd come across on a page. A fellow Whovian was kind enough to loan it to me; many thanks!

For those who don't know (although I can't imagine this review is going to mean much to you if you don't know Doctor Who!), the Weeping Angels are one of the more well-known creations of the newest incarnation of Doctor Who. They can only move when you're not looking at them, but they move fast, and if they touch you, you get sent very far back in the past. Basically, don't blink. More information can be found here.

The Review: In 2003, Rebecca Whitaker, married to her husband Mark for only two years, dies in a car accident. In 2011, her husband Mark is still grieving, still stuck, and... being pursued by the image of an angel statue in whichever TVs he passes. Mark is starting to get freaked out, but that's nothing compared to how freaked out he'll be when a man in a tweed suit and a bowtie shows up with his two companions and a device that helps him detect when time's gone "wibbly."

Mark, as it turns out, can't stick around long--because soon enough he's been touched by a Weeping Angel, and off he goes into the past (1994, to be precise), never to return to his present. But wait--only 1994? That isn't right. The Weeping Angels are supposed to send you to a point much further back in time, so they can feed off of hundreds of years worth of potential energy, and why would they send you back on your own timeline... oh. This means the Doctor, Amy, and Rory are fighting a new brand of Weeping Angel, smarter and more dangerous than before.

As the Doctor, Amy, and Rory scramble to stop Mark from interfering in his own timeline and thus causing the collapse of the universe, Mark has an agenda of his own. He's in 1994 and still carrying a letter he received before he got zapped. It's in his own handwriting, and it's an entire list of instructions for the next seven years, 1994 to 2001. And the last line of the letter? You can save her. Mark would do anything to save Rebecca's life... and he's going to try.

This book really surprised me, I have to say. I'd heard it was good, but I truly wasn't expecting it to be this good. Of all the Who novels I've read this far, I think this one is the best, hands down--and that's saying something, considering the ones I've read to this point have been really excellent. But Morris got it all down: characterization, plot, side characters, emotional impact, everything.

I really wish this could have been a two or even three-parter for the show proper: it's brilliantly done, and Morris has made the Weeping Angels and their dastardly new plan scarier than what we saw on TV. When I realized what the deal was with sending someone back to a time they'd actually lived in, I had a mini-freakout and then just had to keep turning the pages. It's brilliant. Many people didn't like the "improvements" made to the Angels in the two-parter, feeling that they eliminated the scare factor, and while I had to agree there, this development truly was scary. The Weeping Angels are the ultimate chessmasters. They don't really have to pursue Mark. They just have to send him back to 1994 and wait for him to run into himself and screw up. They just have to wait for him to blink.

I had an inkling that I would like this book early on, the minute the Doctor showed up. Eleven's really becoming my favorite Doctor, and I really hoped Morris would get his characterization right. And the kicker with Doctor Who is that you don't only have to get the Doctor right: you have to get how he works with the companions right alongside that. I needn't have feared. I knew right off that I had a winner when I reached this exchange:

The Doctor dusted down his jacket and trousers. ‘Or maybe this is a new type of Weeping Angel.’

‘You mean they come in different varieties now? Oh, great!’ [Amy said.]

‘It must’ve been drawn to its prey… like a moth to a flame.’ The Doctor’s eyes widened in delight. ‘Hang on! That analogy made sense! My analogies never make sense! I must write it down. Rory, write it down for me!’

‘I’m not your secretary, Doctor,’ said Rory patiently.

‘No? Only there is a vacancy, yours if you want it.’ (28-9)

I had to giggle here: there it was. The Doctor being excited, in the midst of all the danger, that one of his analogies finally made sense (he would). Amy not losing sight of the danger and really just being annoyed that even after facing the Weeping Angels and nearly losing her life to them, they've not seen it all. Rory being endlessly patient and giving the Doctor a reminder that no, he's not his secretary (again, the Doctor would assume Rory's his secretary). I read with eagerness from there on, and the book didn't disappoint. Morris clearly knows his Who even past the characterizations: there's fun nods to each of the Weeping Angels episodes (Series 3's "Blink" and Series 5's "The Time of Angels" / "Flesh and Stone") and even a sly reference to one of the Tenth Doctor's companions (I won't spoil who, but it was wonderful to see).

The most affecting thing here, I felt, was how well Morris developed Mark and Rebecca's story. Theirs is a not-quite-linear love story, since really, for us, it starts after Rebecca is dead. We get the story through a series of flashbacks to both the good and the bad, which really conveys a sense of Mark having thought these memories over endlessly since Rebecca's death. Morris developed a completely convincing and absorbing love story in very little space, and for that, I applaud him. I was crying at the end because I could feel Mark's devotion--I could feel how badly he wanted to save Rebecca, and I was rooting for him. I like the side characters in Doctor Who, but I don't usually find myself feeling strongly for them save for a few rare exceptions. So it stunned me that I felt so deeply for this one.

The pacing was fast, which pleased me: some of the other Who books I've read have been a teensy bit slow to start and really get into the meat of things, but here we knew right off that the Weeping Angels were after Mark, that these Weeping Angels were a new and more dangerous kind, and that Mark had a goal he wanted to achieve. I read this one in two protracted sittings and never wanted to put it down. It hurtles right along to a surprising and emotional ending, and I'd gladly take the ride again sometime.

For anyone who finds themselves missing the most recent Team TARDIS, this book is a winner. You've got the Doctor at his brilliant but occasionally manipulative best, you've got Amy following right alongside and ready for action, and you've got Rory getting to be gloriously competent and having actual things to do (joy of all joys!). New and improved monsters, great pacing, a well-told love story, and an emotional ending all add up to a wonderful book. Recommended to Whovians who want to see a different take on certain tropes (a paradoxical love story, the scare factor of the Weeping Angels) that they might have felt weren't done right in the recent two series, and really, anyone who just wants to spend more time with the Doctor.

In Which Trai Reviews 'Doctor Who: The Stone Rose'

The Book: The Stone Rose

The Author: Jacqueline Rayner

How I Found It: The Doctor and Rose's dynamic was my first and my favorite, and this was allegedly the best book featuring them, according to several people whose opinions I trusted. Thanks, girls! :) This was also the first book I read in my first-ever readathon, sponsored by Reading the Chunksters over at Goodreads. Yay!

The Review: Mickey has called the Doctor and Rose back to Earth with a surprise: he's found a statue in the British Museum, something that wouldn't normally be odd... except that this statue is an exact replica of Rose. In order to prevent a paradox, the Doctor and Rose have to rush off to ancient Rome, wanting to learn the truth about the statue and Rose's potential future as an artist's model.

Upon their arrival in Rome, they run into Gracilis, a local nobleman whose son has recently gone missing. A supposed psychic named Vanessa could help the Doctor, Rose, and Gracilis find the boy--but is she really psychic, or is there more to her than meets the eye? Why do the statues that proliferate Rome, all the work of one fledgling sculptor, so closely resemble their real life counterparts? Most importantly, when the air has cleared following a nearly fatal conflict, where, exactly, is Rose?

This was a wonderfully fast read for a Saturday morning, and it was just what I wanted from a book involving my favorite characters: some laughter, some tears, and the overall feeling that I'd just gotten to spend a bit more time with the dearly departed. I even got a little bit of insight into a character I'd previously written off a tad. All in all, it was a great bargain.

To start with: if you like timey wimey, gosh, is this the book for you. There's lots of paradoxical comings and goings, and a lot of things that don't quite make sense until the very end. It can be tough to figure out, but reading it straight through seemed to help me keep the timeline straight. I saw some reviewers that criticized the book for being too hard to follow on this front, but I had to just laugh the shenanigans off after a time: it was funny to see the Doctor and others have to work out how exactly not to cause a paradox.

Jacqueline Rayner's characterizations were spot-on. Jackie only makes a brief appearance in the beginning, but it matches up to what we see of her in early Series 2. Mickey's a bit more prominent, and he was the one I got insight into. I'd previously felt Mickey and Rose's relationship was predominantly sexual (given the number of innuendos Mickey makes in the pilot, and the subsequent instance in "Boomtown" when he suggests they could get a hotel room), but here it's suggested that Mickey does genuinely care for and love Rose, in a moving speech that had me reevaluating my previous opinions.

'... I mean, I was angry when she went off with you. Angry with you, but angry with her too, angry that she'd seen through me at last. Realised I was a loser and she was a winner. But I didn't mind, not in the end. Because she deserved more than me. She deserved someone who could give her the whole universe.' The sorrow in his voice turned to anger. 'But you got her killed.'

'I know,' said the Doctor, and it was as if he hated himself.

[...]

Mickey stood up and yelled, 'You should have taken better care of her!'

The Doctor shouted back, 'I know!' (152)

That exchange encapsulated so powerfully the dichotomy that was always present between the Doctor and Rose's family: they recognized what a great thing it was for Rose to see the universe, while at the same time remaining extremely worried for her well-being and unsure if they could trust this brilliant man who'd whisked her away. Rayner had it down pat.

Now, the most important thing for me is how well the dynamic between the Doctor and the companion is captured. I do so love the chemistry between the Doctor and Rose, that humorous banter with a hint of sexual tension, and I love to see them enjoying themselves. There were plenty of funny moments like this one:

‘Way to go for the detective work,’ she said.

‘Hercule Poirot could solve any case just by sitting back and thinking,’ he told her.

‘You with a twirly moustache!’ She laughed. ‘Go with the sideburns, that would.’

‘I expect it would make me look even more sophisticated,’ he said haughtily.

Rose grinned. ‘Go on, then. Grow a twirly moustache. I dare you.’

‘Fine!’ he said, gesturing at his upper lip. ‘I’m growing one now. Look!’

She peered closely, pretending to believe him, but collapsed in a gale of laughter after a moment, and the Doctor joined her. ‘Maybe not,’ he said. (37)

There were some sweet moments, too, like the Doctor calling Rose his equivalent of a good luck charm, or telling a statue of the figure Rose is supposed to be modeling for that Rose is prettier. It was a bit more overtly romantic than the show, but in my eyes, that wasn't a bad thing; it more clearly illustrated the feelings the Doctor and Rose clearly had for each other. All the while as I read it, I could hear the voices of the characters in my head, and that added to my enjoyment greatly. All the dynamics were there, well-represented.

There were some hilarious action sequences I would have loved to see on screen, including the Doctor facing off against various wild animals armed only with the sonic screwdriver (and quickly realizing that he probably doesn't know as many of those helpful settings as he should). I don't normally read these books for the plot, but this one's plot was fun and kept me guessing: where were the characters going? Who was behind everything? Yes, the eventual sci-fi explanation was a tiny bit juvenile, but Doctor Who is a family show (or was, until recently).

Not only was the book fun to read, it was also slightly educational: I definitely learned some things about ancient Rome that were new to me! (From what I understand, Rayner has a degree in ancient history; it shows.) For someone that might want to learn a little something whilst reading a funny, fairly romantic story about the Doctor and Rose, this one's definitely recommended!

In Which Trai Reviews 'Doctor Who: Shining Darkness'

The Book: Doctor Who: Shining Darkness

The Author: Mark Michalowski

How I Found It: Before making the decision to buy a Doctor Who novel, I usually check Amazon and Goodreads reviews by avid Whovians who can comment on characterization (which I care about more than plot when it comes to tie-ins, because if it doesn't sound like the characters I know and love, I'm not going to buy into it). This one had strong reviews.

The Review: The Doctor has taken Donna to an art gallery millions of light years away. If only he'd picked a better day. He's intrigued by a piece of art that gives odd readings when he scans it with the sonic screwdriver. Unfortunately, a group of art thieves is also intrigued--and Donna ends accidentally teleported with them as they steal the piece of art.

The art thieves are robot envoys of the Cult of Shining Darkness. The Cult are "organic supremacists"--they believe in the superiority of organic beings over robots, or "mechanicals," and the only robots they allow to work with them are ones with almost no sentience. They refuse to believe that robots can feel emotion or pain, that anything they do is a mimickry of humanity. And they would really like it if Donna could think as they do.

Meanwhile, the Doctor, in his desperate search for Donna, finds himself captured as well. The crew of The Sword of Justice is very interested in what the Cultists want with that piece of art, and if the piece the Cultists stole could be but one part of a whole. If the Doctor wants to find Donna, if he wants to learn what the Cult is up to, he's going to have to go along with the crew's pursuit.

I knew I was going to like this book from the opening scene. The Doctor and Donna, when I watched Series 4, quickly became my favorite TV friendship. They had such a fun dynamic (although it could certainly become a serious one at times), and Michalowski got that down with this exchange alone:

'Two and a half billion light years,’ said Donna Noble, her eyebrows raised and a gentle smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, ‘and you’ve brought me to an art gallery?’

‘Two and a half million light years,’ corrected the Doctor, pulling Donna out of the path of something that resembled an upright anteater, studded with drawing pins, trundling down the street, ‘and it’s not just an art gallery.’ He sounded almost hurt.

‘If you’re going to tell me it’s “not just an art gallery” because it’s got a shop that sells fridge magnets…’

‘It might,’ replied the Doctor, glancing away guiltily and tugging at his earlobe. (8)

Everything about that one exchange struck me as the Doctor and Donna. The Doctor's sounding hurt at Donna slighting the art gallery, and that guilty, almost childish glance away at the end--that's him. Donna's mock-threatening tone and her indignation that of all the places they could go, the Doctor chooses a lowly art gallery--that's her. I knew right then that the author had their dynamic down, and it's really a shame that the Doctor and Donna spend almost the entirety of the book separated. Still, even if they're separated, their friendship is palpable. At one point, the Doctor talks about the Cultists stealing a valuable treasure, and when a museum worker remarks that what was stolen was hardly valuable, the Doctor glares at him and says, "I was talking about Donna." (15) It was little things like that that made me feel like Michalowski really got it.

As I said above, I read these books for the characters, not the plot. The plot has never been why I watch the show; I watch the show to see how everyday people react to (a) this brilliant alien they find themselves traveling with and (b) the absolutely ridiculous shenanigans said brilliant alien gets them into. But I was surprised at how much I liked the plot here, and the message it sent. Sometimes the didacticism was a bit over the top, but the book actually had a very touching message about racism and discrimination. Characters such as Mother, the Sword of Justice's helper robot, had depth and backstory. Mother was perhaps the most integral character in the story, the one who imparts said lesson and who the Doctor and Donna both learn from. This exchange with Donna was surprisingly profound:

[Donna] shook her head again. 'It's only natural to see something that doesn't look human and doesn't act human and to assume it doesn't think human, isn't it?'

> IT IS UNDERSTANDABLE, agreed Mother.

There was a long silence.

'It doesn't make it right, though.' Donna said quietly. 'Does it?'

> NO. BUT WE ARE ONLY AS IGNORANT AS WE CHOOSE TO BE.

Donna gave a bitter little laugh. At herself. (109)

Given that Doctor Who is a show aimed at family viewing, or at least was before this current series got into more adult territory, the message was subtle enough that kids wouldn't feel preached to, but obvious enough that parents who might read this with their children could use it as a talking point. I like those sneaky bits of education for the kiddies in the tie-ins, and to be honest, this exchange made me think, and I'm twenty!

The novel's message aside, this book was just funny at certain points. Michalowski had a good handle on balancing the humor with the dramatic bits. One review I read compared the book's humorous parts to Douglas Adams, and I can agree with that. The Cult hides another piece of the puzzle with a civilization that changes what they worship like they change their underwear, just for fun. When you've got a character whose subtitle is the High Priest of What We Believe Today, and the culture is currently worshiping an apocalyptic chicken--well, yeah, there's a bit of satire there. It wasn't offensive, though, and seemed more a gentle mockery of people too willing to believe anything rather than of religion itself. (There's even a perpetually bickering gay robot couple. It was kind of awesome.)

Even if the plot separates the Doctor and Donna, it was still fun to see their efforts at helping (or being forced to help) their respective captors. Donna learns a bit about robots and has to rethink her opinions about sentience and how she views nonhuman lifeforms, and she ends up being an instrumental part of facing the Jaftee, they of the ever-changing religion, in one of the best, most hilarious scenes. The Doctor's interactions with Mother give him a new respect for robots, and he gets to try his damnedest to stop another war. He has a beautifully in-character speech that ends on ‘Bad business, war. No one comes out of it unscathed.’ He paused. ‘Believe me.’ (128)

My biggest complaint was how the plot kept the Doctor and Donna separated, but Michalowski had just as good a handle on the Doctor and Donna separately as he did on the few scenes the reader sees them together. There's a subtle but profound message about racism, as well as some fun humor. As Doctor Who stories go, I found this to be a really entertaining one. Recommended to all fans!

In Which Trai Mini-Reviews 'Lyra's Oxford' and 'Doctor Who: Dead Air'

Time for some mini-reviewing! These two works were very short--one was a novella Pullman wrote for His Dark Materials fans; the other was an exclusive-to-audio Doctor Who story narrated by David Tennant. Basically, they both qualify as novellas, not substantial enough to warrant a full review.

Lyra's Oxford, by Philip Pullman: When we last saw Lyra Silvertongue and her daemon Pantalaimon, they were back at Oxford after being separated from the love of Lyra's life, Will Parry, a boy from our world. (It's a long and complicated story involving parallel universes. In short, Lyra's is a steampunk version of ours.) Lyra is at Oxford to learn once more how to read the alethiometer, since she lost the grace that enabled her to read it before, and she is older but still the same impulsive, adventurous girl she was at twelve or so.

Lyra and Pan are on the roof at Oxford when they witness Rani, a witch's bird-formed daemon, being attacked by a flock of starlings. They shoo the starlings off and learn from Rani why he has been sent to find them. His witch is ill and the cure can only be obtained from a local alchemist, and Lyra and Pan must bring him there.

This novella will really only make sense if you've read the His Dark Materials trilogy, but you don't need to remember much about it in order to enjoy the story. I read the books eight years ago (eesh) and I pretty much caught on fine with what I remembered.

There's really not much to say about it, I suppose. It was short and sweet but nothing really substantial. It's got a small adventure for our heroes to go on and it's a nice reassurance that Lyra is getting on fine even after losing Will to the whims of the walls between the worlds. It's a slight story and everything is wrapped up nice and tidy in, say, 25 or so pages. The bonus material is cute (a postcard from the past of The Amber Spyglass' Mary Malone, a time table for a cruise that's supposedly drifted through the walls between universes) and little more. Since there's not much substance, there's not much else to say other than that fans of the trilogy will enjoy it, but do what I did and get it from the library. Unless you're a real completist, I don't really think it's necessary to shell out the cash for this one.

***

Doctor Who: Dead Air, by James Goss: For my first Doctor Who audiobook, I decided to start small. It's only an hour long, and I figured I'd listen to it to see if I could handle an audiobook (the other times I've listened to them have usually involved me losing focus) and if I'd actually like the feeling of the story being read to me, instead of reading it myself. I can say now that I really enjoyed the experience; David Tennant is a good reader and it just really felt like the Doctor was telling a story.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor, and if you can hear this, then one of us is going to die. If I'm lucky, you're listening to this on the boat ... Of course, if I'm not lucky, you're listening to this somewhere else, perhaps even at home, in which case it's too late. It's already escaped. And it's the end of the world."

The Doctor has landed on the boat Radio Bravo, a pirate radio station in the 1960s. It is staffed by Layla, Jasper, and Tom-O (not sure of the spelling on that last, given the format; I'm assuming it's spelled as it sounds), and they are in deadly danger. The Doctor is tracking the Hush, a weapon implied to have been made by the Time Lords during the Last Great Time War in order to defeat the Daleks. The Hush silences and devours any source of noise, and it just needs the boat's transmitter in order to escape and be beamed all across the world to bring destruction. The Doctor can't stop it alone, and it's up to him and Layla to track and defeat the Hush before it kills them and the rest of the world.

Given the nature of the monster, this story was perfectly suited to audio. The creepiness amps up as the sound distorts at various points in the tale, usually as the Hush has done something dreadful. I kept flinching whenever it happened, so it certainly worked on me! (Keep in mind I was listening to this while walking in broad daylight, so it wasn't like I was listening in the dead of night!) It's a loving ode to pirate radio and good ol' cassette tapes. Think Pirate Radio (aka The Boat That Rocked in the UK) if the Doctor were on board.

The Doctor himself felt perfectly in character, something that was probably helped along by it being narrated in the first person by David Tennant. I particularly loved the instance where Layla and the Doctor have been reunited after the Hush's attempt to mimic the Doctor and manipulate Layla into fixing the transmitter, and Layla observes upon their reunion that she should have known it wasn't him, because the Doctor is so full of himself and the Hush's mimicry wasn't. That's the Doctor I know: conceited, yeah, but sweet and brilliant besides. We really get all of him here. The side of him that's sorry, so sorry when someone dies. The side of him that's a thrill seeker and really finds the hunt for the Hush fun, even when he shouldn't. And then, at the very end, the Oncoming Storm, the very dangerous, threatening side of him that only tends to come out when his companions are threatened. Oh, we do not want to have that.

The other characters were well-done if a bit flat; I excuse most of my normal concerns about this due to the fact that the story was only an hour long. Layla is given the most to do, and she was quite fun--I loved her easy acceptance of the Doctor's reveal that he's an alien, and how it caused the Doctor to reflect that he really should give medals for that sort of thing. I really enjoyed and chuckled through the early banter between her and the Doctor. Jasper and Tom-O were basically there to give us Red Shirts to worry about, but I did get the sense that the crew of Radio Bravo was a family and could see why the Doctor would really care about keeping them safe. Since the story was so short, I liked that it skipped over the expository bits about the TARDIS, the Time War, etc.--the Doctor just handwaves it away by assuming the listener would already know it. The little bits of metafiction made me giggle, although it takes a creepy turn at the end, as the Doctor is sure that no one would listen to the tape all the way through to the end (thus ruining his plans) after his warnings, and if they did, they're just stupid, aren't they? Well, mark me down as happily Too Dumb to Live!

It was a little story, but I enjoyed how it slotted into the Whoniverse. It takes place in Ten's final year, when he's traveling alone after the events of "Journey's End", but the previous companions weren't ignored; there were some sweet remembrances of Donna and another (presumably classic series) companion whose name I didn't quite catch. The implication that the Hush was a weapon in the Time War gave me chills and really lent credence to the fact that yeah, the other Time Lords aren't exactly good guys when it comes to winning the war. I really recommend this one to Who fans who just want a little more of the Tenth Doctor, or who want a deliciously creepy listen. It's fun but still scary: what more could you want?

In Which Trai Reviews 'Feed'

** Spoilers ahoy: vague references to the ending and bleak tone overall. **

The Book: Feed

The Author: M.T. Anderson

How I Found It: It was always a title I heard bandied about in the world of YA scifi and fantasy, but I never picked it up until it was assigned to me this semester in Young Adult Lit.

The Review: I think Amazon.com knows a bit too much about me. It analyzes my trends and throws products at me that it thinks I'll like. I just clicked through to the site, and the front page is plastered with Doctor Who products for me to consider, as I'd been looking at the page for The Glamour Chase earlier as I composed my review.

Going over to the "My Amazon.com" section, I look at what's been recommended for me: a whole host of Disney movies (because I recently purchased Tangled), a reasonable chunk of Jane Austen paraliterature (because I've indicated that I own quite a few), more Doctor Who products (... I'm not in too deep; what're you talking about). They've pinned me and my current interests down fairly easily. I'm sure I'll be moseying on over to the page when I'm looking for something to read/watch, etc.

Then there's the slightly disconcerting emails I've been getting from Borders. As an example, two purchases I made there: Maggie Stiefvater's Linger and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. About a month after I made each purchase, I got an email inviting me to review the products. But not a generic email--oh, no. No, they included the exact editions I bought. I was a bit freaked out when I saw them. They're tracking my shopping habits? Why?

I give you this tangent because it's exactly what Feed is about. It's basically the precursor to the film Wall-E (which I've only seen once, because I consider it eminently depressing). It shows us a consumerist culture where everyone has a "feed" in their brains, putting everything at a person's fingertips. Shopping, TV and movies, a Wikipedia-esque access to facts and details, communications reminiscent of texting and instant messaging: all there inside your brain.

Titus and his friends are normal teenagers, almost slavishly obeying their feeds and never questioning. Everything changes when they take a trip to the moon, where they meet Violet--a girl who can write with pen and paper, who wants to resist the feed and the consumerism it promotes. While Titus, his friends, and Violet are partying at a club, their feeds are attacked by a politically active hacker who wants to spread his anti-feed message.

During a few days in the hospital where their feeds are offline, Titus and Violet find themselves growing closer. Once they emerge from the hospital with their feeds online, they decide to pursue a relationship--Violet wants to open Titus' eyes to the events in the outside world he chooses to ignore, whereas Titus' curiosity about Violet's ways rises. Even as disturbing events grip the two of them--Violet's feed begins to seriously malfunction, mysterious "lesions" cause citizens' skin to fall off--Titus and Violet push each other into unfamiliar territory, learning about each other all the while.

Feed paints a bleak, timely, and prescient look at our society, but one I didn't feel was original enough to interest me. As you can tell from my above tangent, I think Feed is an accurate representation of today's consumer culture. It also has some disturbing predictions about what might be on the horizon in the next couple decades: the President is hideously inarticulate and uses the word "thing" in lieu of the word he can't find. Titus' father tries to "chat" him (the equivalent of instant messaging) and is reluctant to talk to him face to face. A person can get a tattoo that forces them to say a company name in every sentence.

There is no happy ending here--how could there be? And sorry to say that I don't think I felt for any of the characters. Violet: her being educated and politically aware was revolutionary in itself, given the average level of knowledge among Titus and his friends (the scene where no one remembers the origins of the Kent State riots, among others--only that they're the namesake of an awesome "riot chic" clothing line... shudder!). But what else was she really doing to fight the feed? I wanted more rebellion, wanted her to be more like the hacker we see in the first part. Titus and his friends: ultimately, they're all jerks. You think Titus would be transformed by his experience, but he ricochets between that and that same old consumerism, so what the book leaves us with is the feeling that this can't be escaped. Cheery, ain't it?

Stylistically, the book is well put-together and well-written. Anderson intercuts his prose with jarring end-of-chapter blips from Titus' feed, never letting the reader ignore it, which is as it should be. The communication, and failure to do so, between the characters is accurately represented. All of this is wonderful, but what did the book really give us? A look at a terribly depressing society, with no chance of escape and no rebellion that's really succeeding all that much. I wanted there to be more rising up, and I didn't get that. It wasn't what I was expecting of a YA dystopian; I'll give it that much. So anyone who's looking for a real revolution-against-the-government dystopian story should look elsewhere, but anyone who's interested in an incredibly bleak but well-structured YA commentary on the consumer culture should look here. It's written well and comments on what it set out to comment on, but there's not much original about it and the characters aren't as sympathetic as they could have been. What it comes down to is that your mileage may vary!

In Which Trai Reviews 'Doctor Who: The Glamour Chase'

The Book: Doctor Who: The Glamour Chase

The Author: Gary Russell

How I Found It: As I stated in my last review, I've become a tad enamored with Doctor Who. Really, just a bit. (*cough*)

The Review: The Doctor, Amy, and Rory have landed on Earth in 1936--a far cry from Rio, which is what they were aiming for. The TARDIS has picked up some kind of distress signal, and of course they'd like to help.

Just as it always does, the situation becomes more complicated for the Doctor and his companions. Rory realizes that Oliver Marks, a local man, is suffering from PTSD, which is poorly understood in 1936 and more than likely related to whatever extraterrestrial threat is approaching. The Doctor is certain something off about their host, Nathaniel Porter, and his two wives: the first Mrs. Porter, dead from mysterious circumstances, and the current, an archaeologist named Enola who's going to dig up the remains of an alien ship, the Exalted, which crashed in the town over four thousand years before.

And Amy? Well, Amy's not acting like herself. She knows perfectly well the Doctor isn't from Mars, so why does she say he is? Why does she know of Enola Porter, while the Doctor and Rory don't? The Doctor and Rory are running out of time to figure out what's going on, and if they fail, the entire town might fall to the threats of the malevolent Tahnn.

In order to decide which Doctor Who novels to read, I looked at reviews from various outlets. Without fail, the reviewers were (of course) avid Whovians who could comment on characterization (the most important part, to me; I've read some dreadful tie-in novels), plotting, and if it actually feels like an episode of the show. The reviews for this one were almost overwhelmingly positive, and all of them complimented the characterization of Rory, my current favorite character on the show and one who doesn't get quite enough love. He's mainly been second fiddle to the Doctor and Amy so far, something I'm hoping will change this series, so it was really nice to see a writer give him the spotlight.

Amy's not much of a figure here, but she felt pretty in character to me (and had more of an appreciation for Rory than she does in the show proper, which was nice). The characterizations of the Doctor (Eleven, in Whovian parlance) and Rory, individually and together, are the real standout of this novel. Rory gets some backstory (a touching anecdote about nursing a childhood friend, some light shed on his motivations for becoming a nurse, and a glimpse into his feelings during the years Amy was waiting for the Doctor). He is portrayed as a competent and caring nurse, and the Doctor learns to value and appreciate his insight. A favorite exchange of mine: "Rory, you are more magnificent than I thought you were before... I've said that a lot lately, like I expected you to be a bit dim. I'm sorry, I had no right to treat you that way" (185). They get several touching moments and Russell gave them a great dynamic; I'd like to see him do another novel with these characters.

The Doctor is almost entirely spot on; Russell captured his manic energy, impatience with humans, and more-than-occasional ridiculousness quite well. I loved an early scene that just about summed him up:

"Doctor?"

"Quiet, Rory, I'm talking to a sheep."

Baaaaa.

"All right, strictly speaking, I'm talking at a sheep, but I'm pretty sure I'm getting through." The Doctor sniffed. "Blimey, Mr. Sheep, you smell bad. No... wait... nope, you're all right, I smell bad. Wow. That is bad. Sorry."

Baaaaa.

"Absolutely." (48)

Russell also sneaks in a reference or two to the Doctor's previous incarnation (Ten, as played by David Tennant), and those made me very happy, since the Doctor's other incarnations aren't referenced much at all in the show itself now. There was one weak moment that distracted me: the Doctor having trouble remembering the name of Nathaniel Porter's cook. Really? The Doctor, who makes it his duty to know everyone's name, so much so that it was a plot point and defining character moment in "The Vampires of Venice"? I couldn't see it and it made me knock a few points of the characterization tally, but other than that, everything was fantastic.

Okay, so some of the aliens were a little bit silly. We've got the good, woolly aliens--the crew of the Exalted, known as the Weave--and the bad aliens, the Tahnn. The woolly aliens were a little bit much for me to take, and overall their concept seemed just a bit to similar to the Autons. Same function--duplicating a human host--but with wool instead of plastic. Really? That was something I think should have been tweaked and changed. One of the opening scenes where we see the Tahnn's reign of destruction on the little village is pretty horrific, as is their effect on Oliver Marks (whose PTSD is touchingly portrayed), so I give them good marks.

I'm not quite sure I caught every nuance of the plot--the names of the Weave, which were solely numbers, kept throwing me off, so by the end I was slightly muddled but catching on. This is one, though, that I definitely wouldn't mind rereading a time or two--it did some things better than the show did and was a quick read to boot. If you're a Whovian looking for something to while away the wait between an episode or a Rory fan like myself, I definitely recommend this one! (Not for non-Who fans; I'm betting they'd be a bit lost.)

In Which Trai Mini-Reviews 'Fahrenheit 451' and 'Long Day's Journey into Night'

Mini-Reviewing The Classics!

Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury: You wanna hear about the ultimate lesson in irony? After I'd finished the book, on our last day of discussing it, I'm listening to one of my classmates read a selection aloud and coming to the realization that, you know, all those swear words aren't in my edition (granted, it was a very old one). Yeah. I had a censored edition of Fahrenheit 451, the ultimate anti-establishment book. I got a good laugh out of it, but now I really have to track down an unexpurgated edition.

This was one of those books that everyone read in high school but me. I somehow ended up in the classes that didn't read it, for some reason or other, and I never seemed to hear much about it from people I knew in the other classes. I'm glad I didn't, because I went into this one pretty blind, not knowing anything about it other than it being about book-burning, and it made reading this a really eye-opening experience.

I've stated before that I love books and movies about books and reading. It's a subgenre I've just come to adore, because reading is such a huge part of my life, and it's always interesting to see how other people put that experience into words and visuals. I expected to be horrified, reading about a world without books, and I was, but not in the way I expected to be. I was horrified by how prescient Bradbury's vision has turned out to be.

Guy Montag lives in a future where firemen have one purpose: not to put out fires, but to start them. Homes have long since been fireproofed, and the only threat to society now is books. Montag is fairly content with his profession, until a run-in with a very odd teenager, Clarisse, makes him take another look at his life. Clarisse makes him notice the things he's long since forgotten about: that there's dew on the grass in the mornings, that advertisements didn't always pervade every inch of society. Once Montag notices these things, he finds it difficult to revert back to his old way of thinking.

Things spiral fast, and Montag finds himself fighting back against the restrictions of his society--most particularly, the menace of his boss, the fire chief Beatty. A former English professor, Faber, becomes his only ally in a struggle against a system that has long since stopped caring about the welfare of humanity.

Stylistically, this book put me to sleep at first (the sentence structure was a bit too simple for me, although some passages were really striking), but I came to love it over time. Any one of us has the tendency to forget the little things, and Clarisse pointing them out to Montag was pretty poignant. It's not quite about the fight against censorship, though that's definitely part of it. A larger part of the book's message concerns how entertainment gradually replaced the printed word, how television and movies rendered it unnecessary. What was beginning to frighten my class was that so many of the inventions in the book are around today. The parlor walls are our flatscreen televisions. The "seashells" are our iPods or Bluetooth headsets. Paper books are disappearing due to the Kindle and Nook.

Even if how dead on it was scared me at times, I ended up loving the ending and all of this book stands for. I recommend it wholeheartedly to every person who didn't read it in high school, to any person who loves to read.

***

Long Day's Journey into Night, by Eugene O'Neill: Another one that played straight into my literary preferences: a nice, involved, slow-moving drama about a family and its problems. Wow, I was not expecting to feel as much as I did reading this one. I was expecting a story about a family that hated each other, and I ended up being proven wrong: these family members love each other very much indeed.

This was a semi-autobiographical effort by O'Neill, one he didn't want performed until fifty years after his death, but one that got performed before that anyway thanks to his wife. It concerns James Tyrone (mainly referred to by his surname), his wife Mary, and their two sons, Jamie and Edmund. James, Jamie, and Edmund are all alcoholics, and Mary has demons of her own. And the fun doesn't stop there: Jamie has been racking up debts due to his drinking and visits with prostitutes, Edmund might have consumption, and Tyrone's money--which could go a long way towards solving the family's problems--is all tied up in real estate. Hooboy. We get one day in the life of this family, as they fight their way towards some sort of understanding.

Like I said, this one surprised me. Just when I thought I knew something about a character, I'd find out I was wrong. I thought Tyrone felt nothing but disappointment for his sons, but then we get a scene or two where Edmund voices that assumption, only to be proven wrong by a very hurt Tyrone. As always, I'm a sucker for well-written dialogue and well-developed characters, and they were in full force here. I can see that O'Neill really did take this one from life. I'd love to see this one performed; as it is, I'm hoping to, someday soon, check out a few of the different film versions.

I'd like to read this one again, simply because the sheer amount of references to other works made me extremely curious to look them up, and because I was so enthralled by reading this that I just want to revisit it and get that experience again. I'd definitely recommend this one to fans of classic drama that haven't read it already, or to someone that just wants a really good, suprisingly dense and issue-filled play.

In Which Trai Reviews 'Android Karenina'

Hello again, my readers! Once again, I am participating in a fun event for other book bloggers like me, one that will have great benefits for you guys. A few of my readers won the last contest, so maybe some of you will get lucky! This is a contest celebrating the release of Android Karenina, the fourth monster mashup by Quirk Books--combining, you guessed it, steampunk literature (robots and more!) with Tolstoy's Anna Karenina.

There will be 25 prize packs available to entrants of the contest, and the packs have tons of cool stuff, including an Android Karenina poster (one was sent to me with my copy; it's gorgeous), a copy of the last Quirk book, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls (read my review here), and other fun-sounding books such as How to Tell if Your Boyfriend is the Anti-Christ (!). To enter, simply mention that my blog directed you to the contest and provide a link to this post if possible. Onto my review!

The Book: Android Karenina

The Authors: Leo Tolstoy and Ben H. Winters (Winters is also the author of a previous monster mashup, Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, also published by Quirk.)

How I Found It: Since I participated in the previous "blogsplosion", I was asked if I wanted to participate again for this book.

The Review: Regretfully, I did not have the time to fully delve into the original Anna Karenina before I undertook this mashup, so I can't make many comparisons to the original, since I only know vague details of the plot. However, I have to say that it made reading it more enjoyable, as I didn't know what was going to come next. Thus, I think even readers who don't know the original can enjoy this book, and it might even render the original more accessible to those who might want to tackle it afterwards, like I intend to do.

Winters has, in a sense, upgraded Tolstoy. The book now takes place in a 19th-century world where robots live to serve humans. Class I and Class II robots provide simple amusements as toys or perform minor household tasks, replacing servants. Real importance, however, rests with Class III robots--androids that act as companions to humans, essentially privy to every thought and desire from their human masters. These robots comfort, offer advice, and protect their masters ceaselessly. It's pretty clear that we are inhabiting a different world just by reading Winters' twist on Tolstoy's classic opening: "Functioning robots are all alike; every malfunctioning robot malfunctions in its own way."

We open in the same state of affairs as the original: Stepan Arkadyich Oblonsky has been carrying on an affair (with the woman who tends to the household robots) and his wife is refusing to speak to him. He learns his sister, Anna Karenina, is to come to visit, and hopes she will be able to resolve the messy state of things with his wife. Meanwhile, Oblonsky's friend Levin hopes to propose to Oblonsky's sister-in-law, the beautiful young Kitty, though he is tormented by self-doubt and the news that Kitty has another suitor, the handsome officer Count Vronsky. While Levin fumbles to express his love to Kitty, Vronsky becomes taken in by Anna, and they begin an affair.

Things are not all well in Russia, however. The Union of Concerned Scientists (UnConSciya) believes that progress has been stalled one too many times on one too many important projects. They mount attacks on innocent citizens with koschei, creepy buglike organisms that seek to kill any lifeforms they come into contact with. The Ministry, which controls the production of the companion robots, is secretly planning a mysterious upgrade to Class IIIs--an upgrade that Anna's harsh husband is testing, though the robot may have designs of his own, on both Karenin's family and Russia at large.

This mashup was not the best of the ones I've read, but it had charm and I found that it was pretty absorbing, given that I didn't know all that much of what was going to happen. The story had influences from all kinds of different scifi tales, from Alien to Asimov's Laws of Robotics (Winters' robots are bound by two laws: they must obey humans and cannot hurt them, and they cannot allow themselves to come to harm).

The only criticisms I had of the novel were things that could just as well be attributed to the original--I didn't like how focus seemed to be on one story at a time, instead of more fully intertwining both stories (Vronsky/Anna, Levin/Kitty) chapter by chapter. Time would be spent with one couple for a few chapters, then another for a few more, and at times I wished there would be more direct interaction between the two sets, rather than interaction with peripheral characters. I also felt that perhaps one too many cuts were done to the buildup of the Vronsky/Anna relationship--I just never felt they had much chemistry, and their affair proceeded far too quickly. I also never quite liked Vronsky as a character.

Though at first I felt Winters went somewhat overboard on the steampunk trappings of the story, they were well-done. I found myself creeped out by the koschei and felt the threat posed to society by the attacks. There was sometimes a little too much emphasis on the Class III robots--take a shot every time the phrase "beloved-companion" is used--but I did like how the relationship between human and robot was explored. It was almost a commentary on our own dependence on technology in this day and age. While there wasn't enough explanation to non-steampunk readers about various terms, I soon caught on and understood the things that had me lost.

While the story had some weaknesses and I wasn't completely sold on it at first, I ended up truly liking it and wanting to read more and more. Tolstoy and robots work oddly well together. Winters' writing style meshed well with Tolstoy's, and I'd be intrigued to see if any more Tolstoy mashups are coming down the pike. This book did what a good mashup should do--it drew me in, got me interested, and will drive me on with even greater eagerness towards the original. I tip my hat to Mr. Winters for daring to go where no man or machine has gone before!