In Which Trai Reviews 'So Much Closer'

** This review will contain minor spoilers. **

The Book: So Much Closer

The Author: Susane Colasanti

How I Found It: I read another of Colasanti's novels last year. When I heard about this one coming out, the premise sounded interesting enough that I put it on my list. Thanks to my local library!

The Review: Brooke Greene knows that Scott Abrams is the love of her life. She has what she calls the Knowing, absolute convictions about her future liable to come over her on the cusp of life-changing moments. At the end of their junior year of high school, she's finally worked up the courage to tell him she thinks they're meant to be together... only for him to tell her he's moving to New York City before she can say much of anything.

Brooke has been slacking academically for quite some time, not feeling challenged enough by her high school's curriculum. So when she lies to her mother and says she wants to move to New York for a better education, she's telling the truth. Partly. Following Scott and spending her senior year in NYC might be her last chance to be with him, and she'll go even if it means having to live with her estranged father.

Brooke soon realizes that New York might not be everything she thought it was. Her classes are more challenging, which may or may not be a good thing. Her friends at home aren't as supportive of her decision as she thought. Her father isn't around like he said he'd be. Worst of all, it looks like Scott is taken. Brooke might have changed her entire life around because of a boy, but as she struggles to make Scott realize that they're meant to be together, she realizes that the person who really matters is herself.

I was in the middle of the road on Something Like Fate, the other novel of Colasanti's I read, and when I decide to give a middling author another try, I usually hope for something better. I'm sad to say that I felt pretty much the same about So Much Closer--that there were some things I really liked and some things I really didn't. The more I think about it, I think the bad outweighed the good for me. I might give Colasanti one more shot--some of her premises sound interesting, I have to say--but I'm not sure if she's the author for me. I might just end up sticking with Sarah Dessen.

To start with, Colasanti improved on something I wasn't too keen on when I read Something Like Fate. She still used teenage colloquialisms in the characters' speech, which is great, but cut down on them in the narration. There's still the occasional "and she was like," "and he goes," etc., instead of "and he said" or similar conventions, but it's not nearly as grating as it was in Fate. One professional review I saw of a Colasanti novel said that usages like the above mark the demise of modern literature, but I disagree. As an English major, I'm highly critical of the use of colloquialisms, but Colasanti has no great pretensions towards literature here; she's merely trying to speak to teens today. I'm barely out of my teens and, yes, in informal settings, among my friends, I'm liable to speak in just the way the story is narrated. If I'm remembering right, Colasanti was once a high school teacher, and it does show--she captures current teenage speech patterns perfectly.

I think, however, that Colasanti being a teacher ended up doing this novel a disservice. I was more than a bit blindsided by what seemed like public education reform politics that snuck in halfway through the book. The reason for Brooke's lack of motivation is revealed to be the result of her beyond genius IQ, which makes it hard for her to feel challenged in school, and which has resulted in her less-than-stellar grades. When a teacher confronts her about the problem, Brooke gives this speech: "Schools teach to the test and then they make these sweeping judgments about students based on their answers to a few pointless questions... They're doing it wrong. How is force-feeding us stuff we don't care about making us smarter? And why should I be forced to become part of something I don't believe in?" (112)

There's more to the speech, but when I read that, it was a ... what? moment for me. To be quite honest, I picked a YA book to read because it was something fluffy, not to suddenly be confronted with a vaguely political rant. And even if Brooke is a genius, I wasn't quite sure the speech rang true to the concerns of today's teens. I saw some truth in it, but I don't know if the younger readers Colasanti is presumably courting are going to care. Brooke was so arrogant about her superiority to the system that I really didn't, to be honest. I agreed more with the speech her friend made a few pages later: "You want to hear something simple? You could have had straight As with like no effort. You could have been valedictorian. But you threw it all away, and for what? To make some kind of political statement no one's listening to? To prove some point no one's benefiting from? Wake up, Brooke. No one cares." (117)

It's definitely harsh, but in the end, no one really does seem to care. Brooke's thinking outside the box helps when she peer tutors a fellow student, John, who's dysgraphic, but it doesn't seem to figure much else in the long run. Even the passion she ultimately decides on pursuing has nothing to do with educational reform. That speech seemed incredibly jarring and too close to a soapbox moment for me to feel comfortable with it, and it definitely threw me out of the book.

The teen characters were believable, even if I did have difficulty sympathizing with Brooke, who just came off like she was throwing her life away. I could believe that a teenager would be impulsive enough to, given the opportunity, move to another state just for a boy (hey, if it worked on Felicity, why not here?). Scott, though, didn't have much depth besides one solitary family issue, which did seem to be the point in the end. I was much more intrigued by Brooke's new friends, Sadie and John. Sadie was funny and sweet, a good counterpoint to Brooke's friends back home. John in particular was well-done, I felt, because he reminded me very much of one of my guy friends in high school. If I can look at a character and pinpoint someone like that I've seen in real life, I count them as a success.

The pacing felt off towards the end; I think certain conclusions were rushed for the sake of the word count Colasanti probably had to work within. I kept looking at the book going, "... but there are only thirty pages left? There's so much to resolve still!" And therein lies the rub. You see, Brooke says at one point that she doesn't like novels where all the loose ends are tied up with a bow. And... they were here, sorry to say. The easiest possible resolution seems tacked on just to wrap up the storyline. Brooke's mom apologizes for making her feel devalued. Brooke's dad lays down the ground rules they'd been lacking. The romantic relationships work out as well as they could have given the revelations in the text. Brooke's old friends drift away (and that's it) and her new ones will presumably be in her life for as long as she's in New York. Really? It's all just a bit too perfect, especially for the life of a high school senior. I was only there two years ago--I know.

The novel's drawbacks (a strong anti-public education bent, a verging-on-unlikable protagonist) outweighed the novel's strengths (believable diction and some interesting characters) by a fair amount. I might recommend it to teens who, like Brooke, feel directionless, but even that's with reservations. If you're a die-hard fan of Colasanti's, or want something featuring characters a bit older than her other novels, go for it. If not, I think this one's a skip.

In Which Trai Reviews 'Heist Society'

The Book: Heist Society (Heist Society, Book 1)

The Author: Ally Carter

How I Found It: This post piqued my interest.

The Review: Katarina 'Kat' Bishop has walked away from the life she had as a child and straight into Colgan School, a prestigious boarding school. Kat is a skilled con artist and art thief, thanks to her father and makeshift family's teachings, but now she just wants to be normal. When she gets framed and expelled for an elaborate prank involving the headmaster's Porsche, her chances at a normal life abruptly slip away.

As she packs her bags and leaves Colgan, she's met by a fellow member of the con artist clan: Hale, a boy her age who she might have feelings for. Hale has a message for her: her father might have stolen a few priceless paintings from mobster Arturo Taccone, and Taccone is demanding that he give them back. Bobby Bishop swears he didn't take them, but that makes no difference to Taccone. He gives Kat two weeks to find and retrieve the stolen paintings, and it's up to Kat to assemble a team of teen con artists like her to steal the paintings back from one of the most secure museums in the world, a place that's never before been robbed.

This book is paced like a speeding freight train, let me start by saying that. Carter certainly has skill. I started reading the book shortly before a car trip that lasted maybe three hours, and the only time my eReader left my hand was when we stopped at a convenience store for food. I was immediately drawn into Kat's plans to assemble the team and to figure out just why the paintings were so valuable to Taccone. Maybe a team of teenage con artists breaking into the most secure museum in the world is unbelievable, but damn if it's not compelling to read about. Sure, it's a bit standard at times--the constant focus on Kat and how she walked away from "the life" has been done in almost every con artist story--but I didn't feel bored even by the cliched parts.

Oddly, I felt the book started to drag as the gang got closer to pulling off the con. I started to lose interest in the group's dynamic and in what they had to do. I got interested again once the heist hit (and the heist itself was brilliantly done), but I think the preparations section could have been trimmed down. That was the only part of the book that I felt was too slow; the other sections were right on.

One element of the book I questioned was the inclusion of a love triangle between Kat, Hale, and a new team member named Nick. Love triangles are a staple of young adult literature these days (Twilight, The Hunger Games, The Vampire Diaries, etc.) and I'd like to see a YA novel without one, to be honest! I know it's an essential ingredient of a romantic plot, but it's usually painfully obvious how the resolution will shake out, and that was what I felt here. I would have been more intrigued by Kat, say, having walked away from an established relationship and having to build back the trust of her former boyfriend, instead of a love triangle. I hold out hope for the brave YA author who would choose not to include a love triangle, although I doubt it would happen any time soon.

I liked that Carter included names of common cons, often in dialogue, without stopping to explain at length what each one was. Usually the names ("Smokey the Bear", "Mary Poppins", etc.) made it obvious what the method would be, but Carter still could have underestimated her readers and explained each and every reference. She doesn't, instead letting the references fly fast and free in snappy, fun dialogue. I ended up looking up some of the cons myself when I was done to see if they were real (and yep, "dog in a bar," one of the many mentioned, is apparently a common street con). It's rare that a YA book has me looking something up, given that I'm past the age range and hopefully know a bit more than the average YA reader, so I considered this one a success when it came to getting me thinking!

I felt some things should have been tightened up or expanded upon, but since this is the first novel in a series, I gave most things a pass, since future books can improve on a first novel's faults (and, looking at reviews for the second book, I see that Carter made the effort to). There were a few too many times where Carter ended a scene on a cliffhanger involving a person walking into a room and saying either Kat's name or the "last thing a person expected them to say"--things of that nature. I wished for a bit more variety in the scene breaks and chapter closings because of that. And I never really got all that emotionally invested in the characters themselves--I found their methods fascinating, but didn't know a lot about them as people. Even Taccone was a bit of a stock villain. Apparently, the sequel improves upon this, and I look forward to seeing what comes next for Kat and her merry band of thieves.

I'd definitely recommend this one to teen and adult fans of heist movies like Ocean's Eleven or TV shows like USA Network's White Collar (indeed, my love for the latter is what made me pay attention when I heard about a YA novel involving an art heist). These teen thieves will have you on the edge of your seat!

In Which Trai Reviews 'The Lover's Dictionary'

The Book: The Lover's Dictionary

The Author: David Levithan

How I Found It: This review by Jamie highly recommended it. Thanks, Jamie! And as ever this summer, big thanks to my local library.

The Review: I've only ever been disappointed by one of David Levithan's books (Boy Meets Boy, which was too utopian for me and skirted around what I felt were some very important issues), but have sincerely enjoyed others I've read: Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, Realm of Possibility, and now this one. Nick and Norah was a really fun exploration of one wild night for a couple thrown into knowing each other, and Realm of Possibility was a funny and varied look at the love lives of a whole bunch of teenagers. The Lover's Dictionary is Mr. Levithan's first foray into adult fiction, and older readers of his great YA offerings can rest assured knowing that this book is just as good, if not better, as those.

When I first heard about this book, the concept really intrigued me. It's a portrait of a relationship told in a nonlinear fashion, and a particularly interesting one at that: it's a series of words chosen by the narrator, arranged alphabetically into a dictionary that defines their relationship in all its beauty and messiness. Some definitions are less than a sentence; others are whole paragraphs. It's the story of a man loving a woman who might not love him as much, who drinks more than she should, who had an unhappy family as a child. Through the narrator's loving and sometimes not-so-loving definitions, we learn how their relationship came to be, how it stayed there, and maybe even how it fell apart. We see him struggling to cope both with this newfound love and with how to piece together this girl he doesn't quite understand at times.

Some passages were just beautiful evocations of what it feels like to accept someone, flaws and all. Some were funny slices of life that anyone could identify with. Others were heartwrenching snippets of a couple trying to make something work that might be best not working after all. No matter what emotion Levithan was writing, he captured it well, and I just kept marveling at his prose. I couldn't decide which passages were my favorites, because they all made me feel something. Some of the ones that most struck me:

beguile, v. - It's when you walk around the apartment in my boxers when you don't know I'm awake. And then that grin, when you do know I'm awake. You spend so much time in the morning making sure every hair is in place. But I have to tell you: I like it most like this, haphazard, sleep-strewn, disarrayed. (29)

buffonery, n. - You were drunk, and I made the mistake of mentioning Showgirls in a near-empty subway car. The pole had no idea what it was about to endure. (42)

flagrant, adj. - I would be standing right there, and you would walk out of the bathroom without putting the cap back on the toothpaste. (95)

only, adj. - That's the dilemma, isn't it? When you're single, there's the sadness and joy of only me. And when you're paired, there's the sadness and joy of only you. (154)

It's a short read, but the minimal word count doesn't reduce the book's power. Levithan has done an admirable job of capturing the intricacies of a relationship, and even if it's about a heterosexual couple, it could just as easily be applied to any same-sex couple, or just any couple, period. The nonlinear storytelling gave it an extra punch (one entry would be exuberant and happy; the next would be dwelling on a regret or a fight), and I tore through it so fast that I want to reread it just to savor anything I might have missed the first time around.

I'd recommend this one to fans of other nonlinear love stories, such as the musical The Last 5 Years or the movie (500) Days of Summer. Any adult looking for a nontraditional romantic read would probably love it, too, and I imagine it would be entertaining for a couple to share with each other. Highly recommended!

In Which Trai Reviews 'My Name Is Memory'

The Book: My Name Is Memory

The Author: Ann Brashares

How I Found It: I saw a passing mention of it somewhere and looked up a synopsis. Thanks to my local library, I soon had it on TARDIS, ready to be read.

The Review: "I’ve never had a child, and I’ve never gotten old. I don’t know why. I have seen beauty in countless things. I have fallen in love, and she is the one who endures. I killed her once and died for her many times and I still have nothing to show for it. I always search for her; I always remember her. I carry the hope that someday she will remember me." (11)

These are the words of Daniel Gray, who is blessed--or cursed--with "the memory," the ability to recall his past lives. His first life was in 541, where he was a warrior in North Africa. He is ordered to burn what he thinks is an enemy camp, but turns out to be a village full of civilians. A young girl dies in a fire Daniel, then called something else, started. He's ashamed and saddened to have killed someone so young, so beautiful, and his view of the world is altered forever.

When Daniel realizes he can recognize other souls from his past lives in his current one, he is stunned to see the girl from North Africa once more. Sophia, as she is now called, is married to his abusive brother. Daniel and Sophia might be meant for each other, but circumstances will always conspire to keep them apart: "From that moment, as I look back, I can trace the beginning of a few unlucky themes that would carry on for centuries. Our lives being mismatched in time. Her being someone else's wife. Her forgetting me." (54)

In the present day, Daniel has found Sophia: they are both students at a Virginia high school, and Sophia is now known as Lucy. When he approaches her the night of a school dance and tries to tell her they once knew each other, Lucy is unnerved and leaves. Over the next few years, however, she begins to realize that what Daniel said might be true after all--that their love has endured through many lives and many losses, and that she must find him in this life, despite another force that threatens to keep them apart.

This book wasn't perfect, but Ann Brashares wrote a compelling love story that had me tearing through the pages. The idea of a love that endures through the ages was gorgeous, although I actually laughed at times due to some striking similarities to Doctor Who (purely coincidental, I'm more than certain, but Daniel had so much in common with Rory that I couldn't help picturing Arthur Darvill as I read). Daniel's love for Sophia is palpable, everlasting, and the real force behind the story. His recollections of his past lives with Sophia were the most fascinating segments.

That was both a strength and a problem, though. Daniel's segments were interesting; the variations in his lives were fun to pick up on, and even if Brashares didn't seem to put much research into the historical periods (up until the WWI segments, she seemed to pick periods and places that are much lesser known), the bits and pieces of history were intriguing. Lucy's segments, however, were considerably less interesting at times. She spends a good chunk of the book wondering how to feel about Daniel and then trying to find him again, and it just wasn't interesting to read about. Some things never really came together: she sleeps with her roommate's brother a few times, seemingly just to feel something for someone, but it's never mentioned more than three times, and doesn't have any meaning in the end. Compared to Daniel, with the richness of his many lives, she just didn't have enough of a personality outside of her confused feelings for him, and I wish Brashares had done more to develop her character.

Other things about the book felt a bit questionable. For example, Daniel and Lucy's first meeting in the present day. It's at a school-thrown party; Lucy finds him in a back room after having watched him for years. They drink some bourbon and kiss, and when Daniel tries to tell Lucy who he is, she pulls away, which leads to her dress ripping. Prior to this, they were sitting so close that her knee was between his legs, and vice versa. There were a lot of really sketchy things about the encounter (the insta-sexual attraction, the drinking, him ripping her dress ripping even if it was unintentional) that it turned me off at first, and it took me a week or two to get back to the book. In the end, though, no matter how suspicious Daniel's actions come off at times, he's ultimately trying to protect Lucy from harm (and not in a creepy, Edward Cullen sort of way), so it was easier for me to overlook those odd occurrences.

I also wished that Brashares had explored the implications of her system of reincarnation. Daniel's friend Ben, a man when Daniel first meets him, is shown to reincarnate into female forms as well as male ones. Yet this never happens to Daniel and Sophia; they stay the same over generations. For Daniel, it's probably the sheer force of his will that keeps him male, but why not have Sophia be a man in an incarnation or two, just to shake things up? How would that change their dynamic? What would be different; what would be the same? I felt at times like Brashares was too hesitant to explore her system, and I would have liked her to be a bit more daring.

The book really picked up speed for me during the World War I segment, where Daniel is a dying soldier and Sophia is a nurse named Constance who is charged with taking care of him. This section was one that made me cry, as Daniel tells Constance their story and tries desperately to get her to remember him in their next lives. (I do wish Brashares hadn't gone the direction of having Constance be nigh-suicidal after his death, because that's a romance stereotype that needs to go, but it was for plot purposes, so it was hard to discount it.) Even if their romance is only given seventeen days, a trope I normally hate, it's easy to see how Constance and Daniel build such an intense emotional connection, why Constance believes him, and why she's so determined to remember him in her next lives.

I wasn't expecting the book to have a real message, but it did, and it was carried off well. Brashares makes a point of showing the flaws in the way Daniel chooses to live his life, dwelling obsessively in the past and not making emotional connections in each life, instead focusing his energy on finding Sophia. It's an exhortation to her readers to slow down and consider the relationships in their own lives, to love not just one person but many. It also encouraged Daniel to not be so singleminded, and it was nice to see some character growth there. Even if Daniel was 1500 or so years old, he still had things to learn.

A common complaint about the book is the loose ends it leaves dangling, particularly the open ending. Brashares is apparently still up in the air about writing a sequel, but if she does, it will apparently be a trilogy. There's a lot she still needs to explore--how their enemy does what he does, for one, and I'd personally love to learn more about Daniel's friend Ben--and I hope she does decide to write another book, because I'd be curious to read more about Daniel and Lucy's tragic but ultimately beautiful story. Recommended to fans of The Time Traveler's Wife, with a caveat about the open ending!

In Which Trai Reviews 'A Jane Austen Education'

The Book: A Jane Austen Education: How Six Novels Taught Me About Love Friendship, and the Things That Really Matter

The Author: William Deresiewicz

How I Found It: As ever, the book received several glowing reviews from Janeite bloggers whose opinions I trust.

The Review: Oftentimes, men aren't Austen fans. It's just hard for them to see what's so great about stories primarily about young girls finding their way in the world. Oh, there are exceptions. There are men like the ones that frequent the same Austen sites I do, and there are men like my stepdad, willing to sit patiently through every Austen adaptation I could find a few years back. But there are also men like my prom date, who forged valiantly through half of Pride and Prejudice on my recommendation before he confessed to me that it just wasn't for him.

William Deresiewicz was one of those men. He was twenty-six and being forced to read Emma for one of his graduate school classes, determined not to like it. He was sarcastic and sullen, a rebel who often spoke or acted without regarding the feelings of his friends. He was the youngest of three kids and infantilized by both parents, to the point that he knew almost nothing about living on his own. After Emma brought him to a painful revelation about how he treated others and how he should view the world, Jane Austen was the one who showed him the light and helped him grow up.

Emma - Everyday Matters: Deresiewicz starts his book with an examination of the book that made him love Austen. I'll admit that Emma is my least favorite of the six novels, mostly because I find Emma to be an insufferable snob, but it was enlightening to read about how Emma's snobbishness is exactly what made Deresiewicz realize how he was treating others. "Emma's life finally became real to her, and in reading about her life I felt mine finally becoming real to me. ... Reading Emma, being asked to take the lives of characters like Harriet Smith and Jane Fairfax as seriously as they did themselves... made me finally begin to take my own life seriously." (33) It was sad but somehow uplifting to read about Deresiewicz coming to the painful revelation that he wasn't connecting with others the way he'd thought. The good thing is, he realized he had to change and actually took the initiative to do so.

Pride and Prejudice - Growing Up: It's really an eye-opening experience to see Jane Austen through the eyes of a man. Now that I think about it, I read a book two summers ago (Two Guys Read Jane Austen) that tried to give a man's point of view on the subject, but it was written by two older men reading Jane, men who'd already done their growing up and figuring out who they wanted to be. Deresiewicz might be writing as an older man, but he's sharing the experience of his younger self, and it's truly fantastic to read about.

I had to laugh when he talks about being in love with Elizabeth Bennet, about wanting to wring Darcy's neck for hurting her and Jane. Men are just as susceptible to crushing on Austen's characters! That was nice to know. I could really relate to Deresiewicz's depiction of university life (reading while brushing your teeth, eating ramen, walking down the street--all of which I've done), and his examination of what Austen had to say about growing up really hit home with me. “… my father was wrong: you can’t learn from other people’s mistakes; you can only learn from your own. Austen was making her beloved Elizabeth miserable because she knew that that’s what growing up requires. For it is never enough to know that you have done wrong: you also have to feel it.” (60) I cheered for him as he made the decision to move to Brooklyn, away from his father's attempts to do everything for him.

Northanger Abbey - Learning to Learn: Here, Deresiewicz examines Austen as a teacher, helping readers to form their own opinions by expanding their horizons, not telling them what to think. His emphasis is on Mr. Tilney and his relationship with Catherine, and can I just say that I now have a newfound appreciation for Mr. Tilney? Northanger Abbey is so slight and sometimes silly that often it's just the one I think of when I think of being amused, but now I realize how profound it really is at times, and how Mr. Tilney is just awesome. (My friends at Austenblog realized that some time before I did, however.) "Now he was inciting her to speak, then pretending to misunderstand her, even at the risk of looking like a dunce, in order to force her to fight her way back to what she really meant--and thus, to figure out what she really thought in the first place." (90) Deresiewicz compares Tilney to his most-loved professor, imparting a sense of how effective teaching can be if a professor is doing more than just imposing their own ideas onto a student.

As a college student, wow, could I see what he was talking about. (And he is spot on; I had a good laugh at his bit about college students hunting for symbolism and foreshadowing and Christ figures, as that was exactly what I was taught in high school by How to Read Literature Like a Professor.) He also examines Austen as an aunt and mentor to her young nieces and nephews, and it was touching to see how active a role she took in helping them make decisions and become better writers. Again, I'm impressed at Deresiewicz's willingness to recognize his own flaws and make the effort to change. This was certainly a useful insight into the world of being a professor, and it makes me appreciate the efforts of all the wonderful professors I've had thus far.

Mansfield Park - Being Good: It's no secret that I am an unashamed fan of Mansfield Park. I love Fanny, I love Edmund, I love the whole entire story. I champion this book like nobody else. So it was nice to see Deresiewicz gradually coming to appreciate it and recognize the very things I find wrong with most pro-Crawford arguments I see: that the Crawfords are master manipulators, with very few genuine feelings about Fanny and Edmund. Indeed, it was the Crawfords who made Deresiewicz realize that people in his social circle were not people he should have wanted to spend time with.

Deresiewicz compares Fanny's life at Mansfield Park to his own experiences as the less-privileged friend among the rich Manhattan socialites he met during graduate school. He was the friend that was looked to for funny stories, to be a constant source of entertainment for people like the Crawfords, people with no inner lives, no ability to be entertained by intellectual pursuits, and above all, little ability to understand those without their privileges. "Mary was not just advertising her wealth, she was displaying an ostentatiously metropolitan insouciance in the way she handled it. People in London, she was saying, don't dirty their hands with the details. They snap their fingers, and the world jumps." (134)

With experience, Deresiewicz came to recognize how flawed the Crawfords truly were and how really listening to others, just as Edmund listened to young Fanny, is key. I didn't quite agree with all of his sentiments at the end of the segment (I don't think Austen meant us to dislike Fanny as he asserts, and can't quite see why he'd say that given the pains he takes to point out that Austen has much in common with Fanny), but I really appreciated his take on the novel and how it helped him recognize he was being used.

Persuasion - True Friends: This chapter and the next were more about Austen's side of things than Deresiewicz's, but the book was still worth reading for the insight in his statements and his perspective on the novels. I especially enjoyed this chapter because it gave me an opportunity to revisit Persuasion--the second of Austen's novels I read, and one whose adaptations I've only seen once or twice apiece, so one that's definitely fuzzy in my memory. Deresiewicz discusses the revelation that true friends are ones who are honest, ones who point out your mistakes even if that might hurt your feelings. He examines the relationships between Anne and Lady Russell, Anne and Mrs. Smith, and Anne and the naval officers, in particular.

I hadn't really considered, when I first read it, that by having Anne seek the company of the naval officers instead of her own family, Austen was putting forth the idea of a family of one's own choosing. It was certainly an idea that's come up in my college literature courses, but mainly in discussions of newer novels, so it was surprising to look at Persuasion from this angle. Then there is Deresiewicz's examination of Austen's idea of true friendship--that the best friends are the ones who are honest. "True friends do not shield you from your mistakes, they tell you about them: even at the risk of losing your friendship--which means, even at the risk of being unhappy themselves." (194) It's definitely a lesson worth keeping in mind, given how many of us undoubtedly hesitate to tell our friends the truth for fear of hurting their feelings. Perhaps, Deresiewicz is telling us, we should consider how much more those feelings would be hurt if we were to witness them making mistakes without saying anything.

Sense and Sensibility - Falling In Love: Lastly, Deresiewicz discusses his experiences with dating in his late twenties to early thirties, and how he learned what a relationship really consists of: not perfect harmony, but occasional disagreements; not a perfect match of interests, but enough differences to be able to teach each other something. It's entertaining for me to read this now, when a few months ago, I watched the 2008 Sense and Sensibility with a friend and ended up giving a discourse on just why I felt Marianne and Willoughby wouldn't have lasted if they had gotten married: they were too similar, with little else in common besides loving fun and poetry, whereas Brandon could better understand Marianne's depth of feeling, and had experience and culture that Marianne could learn from. My friend looked at me a little while later and said, "You know, I'd never thought of it that way before."

"True love, for Austen, means a never-ending clash of opinions and perspectives. If your lover's already just like you, then neither of you has anywhere to go." (237) It was really nice to see Deresiewicz coming to recognize that conflict was necessary in a relationship, that a whirlwind romance wasn't the ideal match he thought it was, that the supposedly unromantic Sense and Sensibility actually had some reasonable points to make about love. I was a bit disappointed he didn't dwell more on Marianne's relationship with Brandon (it gets barely a few mentions), but given that this was the final chapter, it was basically a culmination of all of Austen's lessons, not just the ones to be gleaned from Sense and Sensibility.

This review is already far too long, so I will close it by saying that this book is just perfect for seasoned Janeites and newcomers to Jane alike. It was everything I hoped it would be, and I came out of it really charmed by Deresiewicz's perspective on Austen and how he had taken her lessons to heart. I got this from the library, but as soon as it comes out in paperback, I'll surely be getting a copy of my own to read again. It's a fast read and one I will definitely be recommending to my Jane-loving friends!

In Which Trai Reviews 'True Grit'

The Book: True Grit

The Author: Charles Portis

How I Found It: I saw the 2010 film version and became curious about the source material.

The Review: It's funny to read this so soon after The Ruby in the Smoke. Mattie and Sally would get on well, I think. They're both girls ahead of their time, with good heads for numbers. They're both out to avenge their fathers' blood, despite their ages (Mattie's 14, Sally's 16). They both face down their fathers' killers, pistols in hand, with unflinching bravery. They've both got some pretty firm ideas on men and marriage, and a certain kind of nerve. In the great pantheon of kickass young heroines, I'm sure that Mattie and Sally are getting on like a house on fire.

"People do not give it credence that a fourteen-year-old girl could leave home and go off in the wintertime to avenge her father's blood but it did not seem so strange then, although I will say that it did not happen every day." (11)

Ain't that the truth? Mattie Ross is out to find Tom Chaney, the coward who shot and killed her father and robbed him of his mare and two gold pieces. In Fort Smith, Arkansas, she is told that Reuben "Rooster" Cogburn is the meanest marshal around, pitiless but also a slightly pistol-happy drunkard. Before long, an arrogant Texas ranger named LaBoeuf has showed up, telling Mattie that he is looking to apprehend Chaney as well. Mattie is determined to punish Chaney for his crime and does not want LaBoeuf interfering, but she is left with little choice. Soon, she, Rooster, and LaBoeuf are pursuing Chaney, who has taken up with Lucky Ned Pepper's gang, through the Indian Territory.

Dialogue. I've said it before and I will say it until the end of time: dialogue makes or breaks a story for me. If I can't hear a person actually saying something, I lose faith in the story's ability to be realistic. On the other hand, if I can hear it perfectly in my head, I'll likely end up really enjoying the book. Maybe it was because the 2010 film version hewed so close to the book's dialogue, but I could really hear it, even if Portis rarely indicated who was speaking, even when the conversations went on for pages. Each character had a very distinct voice and even a sense of humor. A gem I really loved:

[When we first meet Rooster, he is being questioned by a prosecutor about his role in the death of several criminals.]

Goudy: The gun was pulled and ready in your hand?

Cogburn: Yes sir.

Goudy: Loaded and cocked?

Cogburn: If it ain't loaded and cocked it will not shoot.

Goudy: Just answer my questions if you please.

Cogburn: That one does not make any sense. (53)

Not to mention that Rooster and LaBoeuf were comedy gold. LaBoeuf's arrogance about his role as a Texas Ranger is priceless. This exchange was a favorite of mine:

LaBoeuf said, "I reckon I must have the wrong man. Do you let little girls hooraw you, Cogburn?"

Rooster turned his cold right eye on the Texan. "Did you just say hooraw?"

"Hooraw," said LaBoeuf. "That was the word."

"Maybe you would like to see some real hoorawing." (95)

Humor, as evidenced in the two examples above, wasn't something I was really expecting, even though I'd laughed at the film, and it came as a pleasant surprise. Not to pun on the title, but the story is often gritty--I've not read many other books where someone has their fingers chopped off and then gets stabbed in short order--and the moments of humor were welcome and often had me laughing out loud.

The characters were very distinctive and I wanted to see them succeed. I've already waxed a bit about Mattie, but she's definitely one to remember, whether as a young girl or as the adult narrating the tale. She's determined, prickly, and maybe childish at times, but certainly braver than most adults, witnessing violence without flinching and haggling successfully with a horse trader who makes every effort to rook her. Cogburn is, of course, a drunk and morally ambiguous, but he respects Mattie as the one paying him and even shows some affection for her once or twice, making him not such a bad guy. LaBoeuf is just hilarious, as I said above, going on about lapping water from hoofprints and other tactics of the Texas Rangers.

I'm surprised as ever at the pacing, but in the end, I think it worked well. When I saw the 2010 film, I was surprised at how Chaney and the gang didn't really come in until maybe half an hour to the end. Reading the book, it takes half the novel to settle affairs in Fort Smith and actually go on the road to find Chaney. In the end, though, it's more about Mattie than the hunt for Chaney. We're meant to see that this is a girl ahead of her time, a girl who's the exact opposite of both her parents: she's proactive and has business sense, the opposite of her mother, prostrate with grief and hardly able to spell 'cat,' but also the opposite of her father, a pushover whose kindness leads to his death.

The 2010 film (I've yet to see the John Wayne version--sacrilege, I know) stuck very close to the book in terms of dialogue and characterizations, and only added a scene or two extra. Hailee Steinfeld is absolutely perfect as Mattie, and it's duly impressive for being her first performance (I hold firm about her being robbed of the Oscar). Matt Damon managed to project LaBoeuf's cockiness exceedingly well, just as he should have. Jeff Bridges mumbles a bit too much as Cogburn, but he embodied the morally ambiguous, frequently drunk Cogburn really nicely. His lines led to the biggest laughs (the cornbread scene is a standout).

Overall, the book is well-plotted, well-characterized, and well-paced, and I'm definitely glad to have read an apparent classic of American literature, with a heroine who deserves to be widely known. I think this is a great pick for high schoolers and adults alike, a good, action-filled summer read.

In Which Trai Reviews 'The Violets of March'

** This review will contain spoilers. **

The Book: The Violets of March

The Author: Sarah Jio

How I Found It: The cover and synopsis caught my eye as I browsed Borders, and my local library happened to have a copy.

The Review: I wanted to like this book. Really, I did. The cover was so pretty, and it hit two of the stock tropes I really love: stories taking place partially or entirely in the 1940s, and a mystery surrounding an old book, letter, or diary. I was powerless to resist it. I guess now I'm wishing I had. This book didn't irritate me quite so badly as Willow, but it left me with the same feelings I had about Water for Elephants: standard prose, characters with no personality, and no real emotional attachment to the story.

Emily Wilson has just gotten divorced from Joel, her husband. She's been suffering from terminal writer's block ever since she wrote her first novel, a smash hit. Seeking a place to heal, she decides to head to Bainbridge Island, the home of her eccentric great aunt, Bee. While staying in Bee's house, she comes across a mysterious red leather diary dated 1943, a diary that contains the story of a love triangle between Esther, the diary's author; Bobby, her husband; and Elliot, her ex-fiance, the man she still loved even while married to Bobby.

Emily doesn't know who wrote the diary, but it seems to be the key to figuring out why Bee and her best friend Evelyn won't talk about Esther, or why Bee is uncomfortable with Henry, another resident of the island, and Jack, the man Emily is beginning to be interested in. As Emily begins to dig deeper into the mystery of the diary, she realizes its contents may have more bearing on her own life and family history than she thought.

To start with, Jio had a problem with not giving details. There are things I like to know about my protagonists. A little about their lives would be nice. We know that Emily has a best friend named Annabelle, but not how or why they became friends. We know that Emily wrote the bestselling Calling Ali Larson, that it was turned into a movie, but absolutely nothing about the book's plot. (That just seemed silly, since Larson is obviously Bee's last name as well, so it seems there would be some relation there. Alas, no clarification is ever given.) We know she keeps writing paragraphs of an allegedly sucky second novel, but not what that novel's about.

Then there's the flashbacks. Emily remembers Evelyn because when she was younger, Evelyn arranged a shopping trip for Emily to get the shoes she so desperately wanted. That was sweet and fun to read about--except that the flashback stopped as soon as Evelyn told Emily they were going shopping, and the event and its outcome were never mentioned again. Did she get those shoes after all? I want to know! Often, a lack of details like this could have been solved with an extra sentence or two, but Jio never did that.

Besides that, Emily really didn't have a personality. Her old boyfriend tells her at one point that any guy would be lucky to have her, but I just couldn't see why, and that's not exactly a good thing. Much is made of her mother preferring her sister over her, but honestly, that's the only distinct thing I remember of a character I just spent 293 pages with. Emily was so bland that she faded into the wallpaper. Actually, I had the same problem with Nicholas Sparks' The Notebook; his supporting characters in early days were little more than cardboard cutouts. Luckily, he seemed to have rectified that in the later books of his I'd read, so hopefully Jio will be able to do the same in the future.

The story of the past was painfully predictable. I kept reading because I wanted to see if I was genre savvy enough to pin it down successfully, and I was. During their engagement, Esther sees Elliot with another woman in Seattle, a woman who hands him an apartment key. Esther bets lover; I bet real estate agent. I was close--it was a friend selling him the apartment. One for one. Esther sleeps with Elliot after she's married to Bobby. I bet she'd get pregnant. She did. Two for two.

Not only is the story predictable, but Emily is incredibly dense for not recognizing that it's about her own grandmother. It doesn't occur to her to ask someone Bee's real name, which would have made it obvious who the Frances in the diary was. Plus, once she asked Evelyn who Esther was, Evelyn started going off about how Emily's grandmother used to love starfish. Gee, I wonder what the connection is between Emily's grandmother and Esther!

In the end, the story sank under the weight of its own contrivances. Esther "somehow" escapes the car wreck that supposedly claimed her life; the fact that it's not clearly defined how makes it obvious that it's manufactured so as not to be too much of a downer. Emily's copy of the book Years of Grace, scrounged from a free book bin at a Tahitian hotel, turns out to be Esther's. Really? Is there only one copy of this book in the world? The last twenty pages or so left me shaking my head at how obvious the story's construction was.

To top it all off, Jio's writing style was a weird mix of plain prose, words no one would use when a plainer alternative was available, and repetition. There's this passage, which taught me an awesome word, but a word that was entirely replaceable: "I walked up the creaky steps that led to his front porch. I hadn't noticed the cobwebs in the windows, or the catawampus doorframe, so jagged and splintered" (259). I looked up catawampus wondering if it was some kind of obscure wood or flower or something, only to find that it's a synonym for askew. So why didn't Jio just say "askew," instead of using a word that's so obscure my browser is telling me it's not a word? Then there's page 277, where Jio uses variations of the word "grin" four times in one page. There are shiny things called thesauruses out there. I think Jio should probably invest in one.

Overall, this book was cliched, poorly characterized, and badly written. The plain prose makes it a fast read, I'll give it that, but the story just wasn't worth it. I can't say I recommend it all, really, just that I'm grateful it's a library book and not something I spent my money on.