TWIB II-25: 3/24-3/30
Apr. 1st, 2008 03:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
akujunkanIncluding two novels and a poetry collection.
1) Beauty Sleep - Cameron Dokey
Add Dokey's Beauty Sleep to the long list of books demonstrating how not to write a successful fairytale novelization. Here's the thing about fairytales: in their original forms they're basically bare bones exposition, with the reader's (or listener's) imagination left to fill in the details. This works fine in short story format. But it means that if an author wants to retell a fairytale as a novel, she had better start showing the story instead of telling it, or risk doing nothing more than adding an unnecessary amount of verbiage to the same old plot. Unfortunately, Dokey opts for the latter. I knew I was in trouble when I began the prologue, which is nothing more than an extended "should or shouldn't I begin this story with the words 'Once upon a time?'" monologue; the exact same narrative ploy millions of high school creative writing students have used before, with the same trite results. Dokey then treats her readers to the dubious pleasure of 208 pages of the most dreadfully dead and boring prose one can imagine. "Once upon a time, A happened. And after A happened, B occurred. So I did C. I did it because I reasoned the following [...] given situation D, that has already occurred off-page. I felt emotion E. I felt E because [...]. I could tell Character 2 felt F about me. Instead of letting the story develop Character 2's personality for you, I will explain it to you right now: here is what Character 2's hair, eyes, and face look like [...]. Here is how he acts [...]. Here is what I think about him [...]. Etc. etc, etc."
Further narrative fouls include Dokey's decision to set her story in an unspecified medieval country where the population speaks a smattering of French with its anachronistic "You go, girl!" English, the introduction of two utterly uncompelling "love" interests (Can you spot the fake one? I could!), attempts at humor that fall flat on their faces (the evil fairy is named Cousin Jane. Cousin Jane! Get it--it's so prosaic!), abuse of incomplete sentences, long expository passages about aspects of the main character's world that contribute nothing to the plot, the frequent introduction of "red shirt" secondary characters, complete with backstory exposition, who disappear once they fulfill their sole purpose in moving the narrative along; and Dokey's inability to develop any sort of personality for her main characters, and thus any reason for readers to care about them. This is all unfortunate, because the three or four pages in which Dokey actually shows the story (namely, the crisis leading up to princess Aurore's escape into the Magic Forest) are actually quite decent. It's too bad Dokey didn't write the other 204 pages in a similar fashion. But since she didn't, you should give this book a miss.
2) The Somnambulist - Jonathan Barnes
Half Sally Lockhart trilogy and half League of Extraordinary Gentlemen with a few dashes of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell and American Gods thrown in for good measure, The Somnambulist is a fun, entertaining read that's surprisingly good for a first novel. Protagonist Edward Moon is a post-Victorian Era detective cum conjurer in the declining moments of his career, who bites off more than he can chew when he takes on one final case. Lots of intrigue and high adventure ensues, with an exceptionally cool plot twist thrown in toward the end. Barnes is to be commended for his intelligent choice to let many of the "hints" dropped by the narrative go unanswered, resulting in a much more believable setting. (Consider: how many people today ever take the time to learn how microchips or wireless Internet really work, and who needs to have the significance of 9-11 explained?) Which isn't to say that it's perfect: the book changes tone markedly in the final 1/3 of the narrative, and the relationships between several key characters are never adequately explored. Still, it's a rollicking story with an enjoyably grotesque and weird ambiance.
3) Songs of the Kisaeng - Constantine Contogenis & Wolhee Choe
I'm grateful that the translator/authors of Songs of the Kisaeng decided to include the original Korean poems alongside their translations of the same, something I wish we saw more of in collections of East Asian poetry. They've also included a brief introduction discussing who the kisaeng were, a very abbreviated explanation of their role in society, and an even briefer semi-explanation of the poetic meter in which the volume's poetry was written. Nevertheless, the book suffers tremendously for not knowing what it ultimately wants to be: there's too little in-depth discussion for educated readers of this poetry, and a dearth of explanatory historical and cultural notes for the lay reader. As such, although Songs of the Kisaeng may be of passing interest to fans of poetry or Korean history, it's likely to leave readers of either persuasion unsatisfied.
That will be all.
1) Beauty Sleep - Cameron Dokey
Add Dokey's Beauty Sleep to the long list of books demonstrating how not to write a successful fairytale novelization. Here's the thing about fairytales: in their original forms they're basically bare bones exposition, with the reader's (or listener's) imagination left to fill in the details. This works fine in short story format. But it means that if an author wants to retell a fairytale as a novel, she had better start showing the story instead of telling it, or risk doing nothing more than adding an unnecessary amount of verbiage to the same old plot. Unfortunately, Dokey opts for the latter. I knew I was in trouble when I began the prologue, which is nothing more than an extended "should or shouldn't I begin this story with the words 'Once upon a time?'" monologue; the exact same narrative ploy millions of high school creative writing students have used before, with the same trite results. Dokey then treats her readers to the dubious pleasure of 208 pages of the most dreadfully dead and boring prose one can imagine. "Once upon a time, A happened. And after A happened, B occurred. So I did C. I did it because I reasoned the following [...] given situation D, that has already occurred off-page. I felt emotion E. I felt E because [...]. I could tell Character 2 felt F about me. Instead of letting the story develop Character 2's personality for you, I will explain it to you right now: here is what Character 2's hair, eyes, and face look like [...]. Here is how he acts [...]. Here is what I think about him [...]. Etc. etc, etc."
Further narrative fouls include Dokey's decision to set her story in an unspecified medieval country where the population speaks a smattering of French with its anachronistic "You go, girl!" English, the introduction of two utterly uncompelling "love" interests (Can you spot the fake one? I could!), attempts at humor that fall flat on their faces (the evil fairy is named Cousin Jane. Cousin Jane! Get it--it's so prosaic!), abuse of incomplete sentences, long expository passages about aspects of the main character's world that contribute nothing to the plot, the frequent introduction of "red shirt" secondary characters, complete with backstory exposition, who disappear once they fulfill their sole purpose in moving the narrative along; and Dokey's inability to develop any sort of personality for her main characters, and thus any reason for readers to care about them. This is all unfortunate, because the three or four pages in which Dokey actually shows the story (namely, the crisis leading up to princess Aurore's escape into the Magic Forest) are actually quite decent. It's too bad Dokey didn't write the other 204 pages in a similar fashion. But since she didn't, you should give this book a miss.
2) The Somnambulist - Jonathan Barnes
Half Sally Lockhart trilogy and half League of Extraordinary Gentlemen with a few dashes of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell and American Gods thrown in for good measure, The Somnambulist is a fun, entertaining read that's surprisingly good for a first novel. Protagonist Edward Moon is a post-Victorian Era detective cum conjurer in the declining moments of his career, who bites off more than he can chew when he takes on one final case. Lots of intrigue and high adventure ensues, with an exceptionally cool plot twist thrown in toward the end. Barnes is to be commended for his intelligent choice to let many of the "hints" dropped by the narrative go unanswered, resulting in a much more believable setting. (Consider: how many people today ever take the time to learn how microchips or wireless Internet really work, and who needs to have the significance of 9-11 explained?) Which isn't to say that it's perfect: the book changes tone markedly in the final 1/3 of the narrative, and the relationships between several key characters are never adequately explored. Still, it's a rollicking story with an enjoyably grotesque and weird ambiance.
3) Songs of the Kisaeng - Constantine Contogenis & Wolhee Choe
I'm grateful that the translator/authors of Songs of the Kisaeng decided to include the original Korean poems alongside their translations of the same, something I wish we saw more of in collections of East Asian poetry. They've also included a brief introduction discussing who the kisaeng were, a very abbreviated explanation of their role in society, and an even briefer semi-explanation of the poetic meter in which the volume's poetry was written. Nevertheless, the book suffers tremendously for not knowing what it ultimately wants to be: there's too little in-depth discussion for educated readers of this poetry, and a dearth of explanatory historical and cultural notes for the lay reader. As such, although Songs of the Kisaeng may be of passing interest to fans of poetry or Korean history, it's likely to leave readers of either persuasion unsatisfied.
That will be all.