Monthly Archives: April 2013



I’m not really sulking because you disagreed with me about Midwinterblood (more on which in a moment), I’ve just been both really busy and somewhat underwhelmed by what I’ve been reading.

So, about Midwinterblood: okay, I see your point about the lack of cohesiveness in the stories, but it didn’t bother me until you pointed it out. I was happy to spot the small connections and to revel in the wonderful writing. I would have to re-read it to come up with a stronger  argument, and I’ll probably do that later in the year, if others are still talking about it. It does have five starred reviews–although, as we’ve discussed before, stars aren’t everything.

So, on to a few other books that have been getting starred reviews but that haven’t completely done it for me. Eleanor and Park, by Rainbow Rowell has been getting raves from many quarters, and I can see why, but I didn’t finish it with any urge to discuss it or share it. I’ve been trying to think why, and I don’t really have an answer. Eleanor&Park The 80’s setting never quite felt right to me. The back-and-forth between the “Park” sections and the “Eleanor” sections was sometimes awkward, and I didn’t think the voices were clearly different enough. It was kind of an odd structure, to have the two different points of view, but to have them both told in third-person narration. There were many things I liked about the book, but at the moment it doesn’t feel like a book that is going to stick with me.

I also read Teeth, by Hannah Moskowitz. This is an odd little book that the publisher refers to as a “gritty, romantic modern fairy tale.” Um, okay. It’s really hard to describe. It does have a bit of the Midwinterblood/Brides of Rollrock Island realistic fantasy thing going on: there’s a mysterious substance, in this case, the fish that apparently can only be found on this island and that save the lives of desperately ill people. Rudy’s relationship with Teeth, aka Fishboy, was problematic for me. What was Teethin it for Rudy? I had to pretty much make myself pick up the book and read it, and there was nothing particularly fun about it. But on the other hand, this one really is rolling around in my brain several weeks after I read it, so there’s that. I’ll have to give it some more thought.

I also read Black Helicopters, by Blythe Woolston. I actually feel kind of funny talking about it on the day after the Boston Marathon bombings, because it feels just a bit too close to home. I can easily imagine Valley (short for Valkyrie) deciding that the finish line of the Boston Marathon was just exactly the right place to detonate her bomb. This is a book that I turned back to the first page as soon as I finished the last page. It definitely benefits from a re-read, as you begin to see how the various elements fit 15798680together, and who these people really are. I was expecting a different kind of story–more of a standard thriller, I think–but reading this book, told from the perspective of a girl who is just trying to do what she has been taught all of her life to do, was absolutely chilling. So why was I underwhelmed? Again, I’m not sure. Woolston’s writing, I think, holds the reader at a distance. But this is another one that I may want to go back to at a later date.

So I don’t know. These are all good books, but none of them grabbed me and didn’t want to let go. Maybe I’m just in a reading slump. (This may actually be true; I was looking at my list of e-galleys from Edelweiss and Netgalley, and couldn’t get up much enthusiasm for any of them.) Perhaps it’s time to re-read an old favorite, or find an entirely new genre or something. It’s just as well I’m not on any book selection committees this year!

What have you been reading?

– Mom



Filed under Books, Teens

Midwinterblood: Mark’s Take


So, I read Midwinterblood and I have to say, I’m somewhat surprised by your enthusiastic response.  I agree that there is a lot to like about Sedgwick’s novel, first and foremost its risk-taking, but I also found a lot of it to be troublesome, and it didn’t really cohere for me.

First, the good. When I read your description of the book, the section I was least looking forward to was the first chapter, set in 2073–I’m not a big SF reader, and futuristic stuff tends to fall flat for me. But I was very impressed with that first chapter.  The mystery of the western half of the island, the dragon flower tea, the lack of children, the strange bond between Eric and Merle–there were just so many intriguing threads to it, and I loved the ending of the chapter, with Eric being sacrificed (although, as I’ll get to in a minute, the rest of the book somewhat undercut the ending of the chapter for me). 

Beyond that, I loved the structure of moving backwards through time, and the recurring themes and characters showing up in different times.  It just occurred to me this morning that the book has a lot in common with Darren Aronofsky’s much maligned (in my opinion, undeservedly) film The Fountain, with tells the story of two characters, played by Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz, living in the past, the present, and the future, as Jackman’s character attempts to save Weisz’s by locating the fountain of youth in each period.

That said, I just didn’t feel that Sedgwick’s seven stories cohered in any meaningful way, the way Aronofsky’s film did (for me, at least).  To explain, I think we have to start at the end (the beginning?).  The last chapter (before the epilogue), shows Eric’s sacrifice and the promise by Merle to remain with him through seven lifetimes.  Presumably, this explains what was going on in the previous six chapters, but for me, it really didn’t explain much at all.  First of all because, um . . . why did Eric and Merle love each other so much?  We never see it, really in any of the sections, but most importantly not in that final one–it is just stated outright as fact. 

This is made especially strange because of the variety of permutations Eric and Merle’s relationship shows up in: brother and sister, mother and son, lovers, and complete strangers.  I suppose you could argue that Sedgwick is arguing that love is love is love, but for me, this variety made the message very diffuse.  To take the most egregious example, inthe chapter about the WWII airman, Eric is on the island and Merle is . . . the airman’s daughter back home in England? what?  Yes, Eric sacrifices himself here, but not really for Merle at all.  In fact, if I were on the Printz committee, I think all I would need to not this book out of contention is a close reading of the airman chapter, which really drags down the whole book. 

It is also a perfect example of another problem, which is that Sedgwick spends an alarming amount of energy in the first 3 stories on creating characters who are not important to the story of Eric and Merle–the airman, the archaeologists: shouldn’t he be spending that time making us believe in how much Eric and Merle love each other?  Then there’s the connection between the archaeological dig and the folktale told in a later section: who were the two buried bodies? According to the folktale it is Tor and Eric (who was sacrificing himself for Merle, kinda-but-I-didn’t-really-buy-it), right? except that section was told as a folktale that had alternate versions, so what exactly are we to make of the real archaeological evidence?  Is the story in which it is Merle and Erika just a myth, or is it another life they lived through? Because then wouldn’t that add an extra life to the cycle?

Finally, after loving that first chapter so much, I just found myself very unsatisfied by how little of the mystery of that chapter was developed.  The dragon flower seemed like just a hug a red herring.  Did it have any significance later on in the book?  It didn’t seem to.  I never really got a sense of who Tor was, why the dragon flower, why the island at all, why the islanders in 2073 are ritually sacrificing Eric instead of just killing him, or letting his memory go with the dragon flower tea.

As for Printz candidates, I’ll still stand by 17& Gone as my top choice so far, with Yellowcake, Pieces, and Jim Ottaviani’s Primates in a much better place for contention than Midwinterblood.  But maybe I’m wrong–did I miss something huge in Midwinterblood?

– Mark


Filed under Awards, Books, Teens