My working schedule this week has been pretty hectic and so I haven't had time to read or blog much at all. I've been so tired. But the weekend is here and my shifts are fewer and more relaxed next week. Hopefully I'll read more and more and find that special 5-star quality book I've been starved of for months. You know that feeling you get after reading a great, awe-inspiring and wonderful book? I miss that :)

Book Review - 'Holes' by Louis Sachar

This is one of the few books I had to read for English at primary school that actually intrigued and amazed me, and it still does even in adulthood. 

'Holes' follows the story of Stanley Yelnats (Stanley spelled backwards) IV, a poor chubby boy (I hate that the film version changed this) who is made to go to a prison camp in the middle of nowhere - ironically named Camp Greenlake - for a crime he didn't commit (a pair of 'Sweet Feet' trainers literally fell from the sky and landed on him, and he is accused of stealing them). His family has been plagued with bad luck ever since his "dirty, rotten, pig-stealing" great-great grandfather broke a promise to a gypsy, Madame Zeroni, who then proceeded to curse him and his future generations for all time. Stanley and several other boys at camp are forced by a wicked woman Warden to dig holes every day in the scorching hot sun, with no sign of water - or indeed civilization - in sight. This is supposedly a character-driving exercise - to make the boys understand hard living and responsibility. But that is not the true reason. 

Not everything in 'Holes' is as it seems. The present tries to dig up the secrets of the past, and everything in between is linked. Plot threads and characters - from whatever timeline - are connected together like grain in sand, holding microscopic pieces together to make a whole to walk on and breeze through. The stories of the past are the best moments of 'Holes', and I especially loved reading about the legend of Kissin' Kate Barlow, a femme fatale who killed and then kissed the men she robbed. 

The harshness of living in an endless and dangerous desert - with the sun above and poisonous creatures under never-changing sands - is brilliantly realised. The revelations and family connections in this book could have easily turned it into a contrived mess, with plot twists added just for the sake of it. But 'Holes' is a well-written and original literary achievement, with elements of a classic. 

I am happy to have read this book at school; it is a genuinely great story to teach about. Many kids can learn from it - not just about how history and people function, but about friendship as well. Stanley and Zero work wonderfully together, and they help each other out of the worst possible situations when living in a desert with immature kids and ruthless, controlling adults. Plus, I will always remember the "If Only, If Only..." song.

Utterly charming and humourous. A read for all ages and generations.

Final Score: 4/5

Book Review - 'The Wild Girl' by Kate Forsyth

Kate Forsyth is becoming one of my new favourite authors. 

As much as I love fairy tales, and researching the origins of fantasy and how much impact it has on our lives, I freely and embarrassingly admit that I knew little about the Grimm Brothers themselves before I picked up this book. Now I am happy to have been enlightened - enlightened by yet another edition of Ms Forsyth's historical romance fiction.

By the way, did I happen to read this around Valentine's Day? I barely noticed.

'The Wild Girl' is a story about love in its deepest, darkest depths and complications. Sometimes love is the most magical thing in the whole world - a lot of stories attribute love as being the most powerful magic there is - but sometimes it can lead to pain and tragedy. And abuse. 

Abuse is a key theme in this novel - the abuse of power disguised as love and good intent. 

Set in Germany, Cassel, in the early 1800s, 'The Wild Girl' is a love and abuse tale; further heightened by the European invasion and war of Napoleon, which is used as a backdrop for the book's mature themes.

Dortchen Wild - the second youngest of seven children born to an apothecary - fell in love with Wilhelm Grimm from the moment she saw him. She was twelve-years-old, and he nineteen. They were neighbours, and Wilhelm's sister, Lotte, was Dortchen's best friend. The Grimm family had struggled through poverty ever since the death of their father, and as the years went by, times fell harder and more anguishing for both families. 

But Dortchen's feelings for Wilhelm never changed. As they got closer, she helped him with his fairy tale collection by telling him the most known (and, profoundly, unknown) tales we love and cherish today. 

The Brothers Grimm left one tale untold. About the girl with the big heart and responsibilities, and with a fervour for stories. She lived right next door to the brothers. This girl eventually became a huge contribution to the Grimm's fairy tales, and to Wilhelm Grimm's life.

She was a Wild girl. But possibly a victim of abuse.

In Kate Forsyth's version of this story, Dortchen Wild starts off as a free-spirited and charming young girl. However, with the cruel changing of the times, the French invasion, and her elder sisters getting married off, her heart slowly turns to ice to match the long insufferable winters. But above all, it is her father's obsession with keeping her under control and forcing her to be the traditionally quiet and obedient daughter that eventually breaks her. Even after his death, when she grows to adulthood, she still cannot be free of him. Dortchen is traumatised by her father's abuse, and she has hardened into someone who refuses to believe in the power of fairy tales and happy endings. Tragically, this also affects her relationship with the impoverished Wilhelm. She works non-stop day and night, and distances herself from others; and tries not to think of children's stories even when she looks after the little ones in their innocence. This lady has become the quiet and obedient wretch her ghastly father wanted her to be, and is the shadow of the little girl she once was.

But can love really work magic? Can her wild fire be rekindled? Can victims of abuse ever truly be free of their pasts, and know that whatever terrible crime that's been committed against them was not their fault?

'The Wild Girl' connects the theme of abuse in real life to how it is reflected in fairy tales. This concept is fascinating to me. After all, 'Cinderella' is treated like a slave by her stepmother and sisters; 'Hansel and Gretel' start off their adventure when they are abandoned by their parents; 'Rapunzel' has another abusive and controlling mother figure, as does 'Snow White'; and 'Beauty and the Beast' and 'Sleeping Beauty' both have an undertone of women giving up their lives and bodies for men, no matter how they are treated (this is, at least, an implication in the original tales). In these stories, and in post-mid 1900s, women are property. Property to be handled in any way, even in opposition to the most basic of human rights.

Ms Forsyth, in her book, implies that perhaps the reason why Dortchen Wild told her tales to the Brothers Grimm the way she did was because she herself may have been abused. This is made especially potent when she told the earlier version of the obscure story, 'All-Kinds-of-Fur', where it is the princess's FATHER who wants to marry her, and succeeds in doing so in the end. But all is not tragedy. For in the Grimm's revised versions of their collected fairy tales, the concept of happily ever after is revitalised. So is the case of the story of the Wild girl, where true love conquers all. But because that is set in real life, happily ever after takes longer to happen - and is worth every year of agony to achieve it.

Aside from its clever themes and lovely writing, 'The Wild Girl' has a whole set of memorable characters and moments of sweetness, sorrow and genuine shocks that are impossible to turn away from as they happen on the pages. I don't think this should be categorised as YA - it is very graphic in its depictions of violence, gore, and abuse in all its horrific connotations.

The novel does contain its weaknesses, however. It is rather long-winded at nearly 500 pages, and not all the characters are fully developed - in fact a few disappear from the story altogether and are not mentioned again. Given that this is historical fiction, this is understandable, since it is a realistic presentation of how people come and go in our lives and may or may not have had much impact on us as we grow into our own individual selves. Some phrases, such as "She/He turned away from him/her" and "She/He did not answer" and "She hid her face" and "Her eyes filled with tears" or variations of those, are a little overused. Not to mention they're what you'd expect from a cliched romance book, rather than an original one meant to be taken seriously. And while I did sympathise with Dortchen wholeheartedly, I still found some of her decisions - by the way the author tells them - a bit strange and out of character. Such as, when an unhappy and self-pitying adult, she would still do the things she happily would have done as a child. One example I can give of Dortchen's flakiness without revealing spoilers is her "compassion" for Napoleon after his imprisonment and death. Napoleon - a man who invaded most countries in Europe, including her own; who committed acts of genocide; was responsible for her family's poverty, and for her brother Rudolph being sent to the army and thus causing his post-traumatic stress disorder. Napoleon may have arguably made Europe better in some aspects, but in others not so, clearly.

However, even though 'The Wild Girl' didn't have as much of an impact on me as 'Bitter Greens' did, it is still an amazing novel. Highly recommended to anyone who loves fairy tales and understands (or wants to understand) why they are important for us to preserve and dissect. It doesn't say exactly where these tales came from, because they are in fact so old their origins are scattered. They are romantic, like Dortchen and Wilhelm and their complicated story of love and overcoming obstacles - both physical and personal - so that they can be together.

Love, magic and stories are elements as old as time itself - they are as relevant now as they ever were. They help us to understand ourselves as much as any other form of psychology. They are what make us human: good or bad humans, the choices we make and the actions we take are our own, or should be our own. Perhaps these childlike elements do help to shape us into the adults we have or will become, as shown in 'The Wild Girl' and how it tells of Dortchen Wild's story - one that may indeed have influenced our most beloved bedtime fables.

Final Score: 4/5

Book Review - 'Froi of the Exiles' by Melina Marchetta

2023 EDIT: As I've said in my new 'Finnikin of the Rock' review:

Screw this book and its sequels. The 'Lumatere Chronicles' is misogynistic trash.

Sorrynotsorry.

Final Score: 2/5



2019 EDIT: Yet another time to admit that a fantasy series from my past has severely disappointed me.

Content warning: rape.

'Finnikin of the Rock' may not be one of my favourites anymore - and knowing how the sequels would turn out was a big reason for the change in opinion - but I still remember it fondly. It was one of the best epic fantasy books I'd read. But the subsequent two books in the 'Lumatere Chronicles' trilogy I found to be complicated, both overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time, too long, and very, very sexist. And I had thought that this series was supposed to subvert the usual sexist and misogynistic tropes typically founded in the fantasy genre.

I think I only rated 'Froi of the Exiles' four stars originally because everybody else loved it, and I thought that I had missed something that apparently made it a masterpiece. Blimey, was it my longest review ever? Essentially trying to convince myself that I liked it?

But for the problems I had with it, it is nowhere near as rage-inducing as the final book, 'Quintana of Charyn'. It isn't even about the poor, abused, despised-despite-being-essential-to-her-nation's-survival, the princess Quintana, who has been systematically raped throughout her life; she only exists to be a prophecy (male) baby carrier. Because it is only men and kings who fix everything. Except when they don't: remember the impostor king from 'Finnikin of the Rock'? Finnikin, once a favourite book hero of mine, has suddenly turned into an arsehole. The way he treats Isaboe, his pregnant wife, the mother of his children, and the fucking queen, is absolutely disgusting and appalling. Every female character is either abused, a rape victim, a sexual assault victim, a mother, a "whore", a bitch, stupid, ineffectual, a damsel in distress, or otherwise there is so much emphasis put on their wombs and their functions as baby makers that it is ridiculous. Few men treat women with respect and not as property in these books.

Here is where I would quote some observations from my original review, as examples of the misogyny in 'Froi of the Exiles' and in 'Quintana of Charyn', but the Goodreads word count won't let me. It really was a long review. Why did I ever say that I like this book?

I think that the author seems to have unintentionally played straight the fantasy tropes she was trying to deconstruct in terms of gender roles and attitudes.

In conclusion, I'll stick to 'Finnikin of the Rock', as it is in my opinion that the sequels are overrated, and they enable social, structural, and political misogyny rather than subvert it. And I am done with it.





So much went through my mind whilst reading 'Froi of the Exiles' and, just like with another acclaimed sequel I read recently, 'Days of Blood and Starlight', it's going to be a challenge to put my thoughts in order for a review. But I'll get right into it, starting with overall impressions.

Be warned, I might allude to points in this book that may be spoilerific, and slight spoilers from the last book, 'Finnikin of the Rock', are inevitable.

If there is one word I would use to describe 'Froi of the Exiles', it is "conflicting". There is much greatness in its world building, its characters, its plotting, and in how it continues and ties together what 'Finnikin of the Rock' had left all wrapped neatly in a radiant and blood-soaked bow. With that being said, when I read it, sometimes I felt it went too far in-depth for its own good. I don't mean that it was overwhelming or complicated - the story is very well-constructed - but the disturbing world issues it has no qualms in presenting in its finest barbarity seemed a little too brutal than was strictly necessary from a storytelling perspective. It went far ahead of itself in showing what a crapshack world Skuldenore - where the whole Lumatere Chronicles is set - is. Although giving that it is meant to represent our own world, perhaps truth is stranger and more depraved than fiction; than we might want to admit. Getting modern readers out of their comfort zones is one of the things Melina Marchetta does best as a writer, making her distinctive mark in young adult fiction.

For 'Froi of the Exiles' is still an excellently written fantasy novel, and it ticks most of the right boxes in avoiding most high fantasy cliches (key word being "most" here). For a sequel to one of my favourite books of all time, and for a book so beloved and critically acclaimed that to say one negative thing about it almost means instant loss of respect, it is a mild disappointment. But I will get into what works for me in this novel and what issues I need to discuss, by talking about the characters first. These characters drive the story and help convey the many messages of 'Froi of the Exiles'.

Let us get into Froi himself.

Froi - The hero. The assassin sent to kill the king of Citavita - a province in the cursed land of Charyn - and to end the conflict between Charynites and Lumatereans that has been going on for decades. How does Melina Marchetta, character developer extraordinaire, make the reader sympathise with someone who, in the previous book of the series, attempted to rape the future queen of Lumatere? Well, for one thing, this isn't brushed aside or glossed over. Froi, in his story of self-discovery, knows how terrible the things he did are; in his past when he was a street urchin with no worth or identity. While Isaboe does forgive him, she never lets him forget it, as part of their "bond" or promise when Froi swears his allegiance to the well being of Lumatere, after its curse was lifted in the last book. As a testament to how Ms Marchetta knows that rape is something that is never, EVER to be taken lightly with no consequences (for the most past, anyway - I'll get into that in a bit), here's this passage:

"He (Froi) wondered when he would ever trust that his anger was just anger and not a desire to hurt another, or a reminder of his past misdeeds. The bruised look in Quintana's eyes would also serve as a prompter. Each time he saw it, Froi would be reminded that the brutal actions of men were designed to break the spirits of the others. It was what he had tried to do in a Sorellian barn with Isaboe of Lumatere. Although a voice inside had chanted to stop that night, Froi would never know if he would have. And he wanted to know. He wanted to say the words, 'I would not have gone through with it'. But he'd never know, and that was his punishment. That, and being in love with a girl whose spirit had been broken by men like Froi." - page 542 of my copy.

There are many great passages in this book, as is expected from a Melina Marchetta novel, but this one stuck out for me the most. Froi is suffering for his sins, his crimes. Despite being trained for three years by Lumatere's captain of the Guard, Trevanion, he has trouble controlling his temper and base instincts. As this story is of a nature-versus-nurture type, which I love, I found Froi's part in it most fascinating. He grows to find love in the most unlikely of places, and becomes a hero worthy to have a book written about him. But he will never be free of his guilt, and of the horror of what could have been. Even his self-discovery arc in Charyn will not turn out what he had hoped, and there will be more disappointments than moments of genuine happiness and satisfaction.

For that is life in Skuldenore in how it is now...

Then there is Quintana of Charyn - who is even more fascinating. She is in every particle an aversion of what you'd expect a princess to be. She is not beautiful, nor is she well regarded and well loved. She is portrayed as being no better than the savage Froi once was in 'Finnikin of the Rock'. The complications surrounding her birth had led to a curse, placed on the hostile desert of Charyn. No other birth has taken place all throughout the land since then. It has become Barren Charyn, as it were. So Quintana is accused of being a curse maker, and according to her own ravings, the only way to break it is for her to give birth to a future king of Citavita, the curse breaker, for "the last shall make the first". She is hated by her own kingdom, to the point where her birthday is only spoken of as "the day of weeping". Years of abuse and attempted assassinations have reduced her to a wretched creature with no manners whatsoever and with a seriously disturbed and desensitized mind. She also suffers from a split personality. Even those closest to her say she is nothing; she is useless unless she does her "duty" and brings to the world a king, who would be loved by all not because of his actions, but because of a prophecy that's been spoken before his conception.

It is here that I wish to discuss the main issue I had with this book: rape and the role of women. Quintana has been a victim of systematic rape since puberty, because of a prophesy that claims she will birth a male who will save Charyn from dying out in impotency, and from destruction. However, she takes this in an attitude that suggests this is completely normal, and she just lies back and thinks of Charyn when a Charynite "last boy" is sent to try to impregnate her. In fact this is what Froi's role ends up amounting to. Quintana is so desensitized to being treated like a living embodiment of a plague that she feels nothing when these despicable acts are targeted towards her. That she literally has two people living inside her makes the whole rape angle even more unsettling and in need to be put into question. Though the sheltered, weak young lads who are made to "swive" her are uncomfortable with it, including Froi, she seemingly can't see why this is wrong. Pain and suffering is all she feels anyway. And all she knows is that she is merely a "vessel" for the future king, and once she does what she was supposedly born to do she will either be praised at last or disposed of by those who are meant to love their royalty. She trusts no one; for good reason considering that most Charynite men in this story want to pen last born women in order to rape them and "make the first", thus breaking the curse. The words "woman" and "whore" are primarily interchangeable, as far as the antagonistic land of Charyn is concerned.

I wonder if Ms Marchetta went this route of emphasizing the suffering of women and the overuse of rape in order to show just how horrific their suffering truly is. Is it to make the reader feel for the women who are apparently worth nothing more than their working wombs, and that societal misogyny is something to be justifiably angry at and to stand against?

A little more on that point later. A little more on Princess Quintana now, as she is a complex creation.

Quintana is not an action girl. Her post-traumatic stress and numbness to life have made her unable and uncaring to defend herself against those who mean her harm. She has to be rescued dozens of times, and similar to the other female characters, one of her few positive traits is her occasional words of wisdom. But by the end of the novel I was compelled to see her grow stronger, and more independent. This is one of the reasons I am anticipating the third Lumatere Chronicles novel, which is meant to be about her. Although the blurb of 'Quintana of Charyn' tells of yet another story about Froi and his wanting to save Quintana and her all-so-important womb again in order to restore peace to Skuldenore. But I digress. I am hopeful for more development in Quintana, and she has had plenty during the long, harrowing journey that is 'Froi of the Exiles'.

Other important characters, who are in Charyn where Froi is sent on his mission, include Gargarin, Arjuro, Lirah and a few "last boys". Each are as complex and memorable as the last, but I felt that Froi and Quintana were the main two worth talking about in great length. Besides, to say any more about any of these people would mean revealing major spoilers.

One thing I would call overwhelming in 'Froi of the Exiles' is its numerous characters. There are loads of them, even more so than in 'Finnikin of the Rock'. For a book so thick and set in many different locations, this is understandable, and it shows just how much thought Ms Marchetta put into making the world of Skuldenore believable and human. However, only major characters' appearances are described to the reader, and the minor ones sort of blend in together this time round. Not everyone in Charyn is that distinguishable from one another, and it makes me relieved that the current king of Citavita is made as anonymous as the imposter king in the last book. Yes, the theme of "enemy leaders are the same from civilians' perspectives" is here again. I wonder if it will turn up in 'Quintana of Charyn'...

Characters from 'Finnikin of the Rock' are here as well. No one living in Lumatere is forgotten about or placed in the background. I loved Beatriss and Trevanion and their subplot. Lucian of the Monts, Rafuel the Charynite, Tesadora the white witch and Phaedra of Alonso (which is another Charyn province) had to grow on me gradually, if I'm honest. Finnikin and Isaboe do take a backseat to Froi's adventure and saga, but their roles are just as important, as they make difficult decisions when ruling a kingdom still feeling the affects of its curse three years previously. They have to be absolutely careful and cunning for the sake of Lumatere and its future generation.

Now with the analysis on characters done, let me get into the abundance of themes that 'Froi of the Exiles' so truthfully and therefore painfully speaks of. Melina Marchetta herself says that the novel "explores nature versus nurture", which I have mentioned before that I love; because there are so many ways a writer can explore that theme, and it presents opportunities for riveting character development.

In 'Froi of the Exiles', this theme is played with by having the adult victims of suffering speak carelessly about their enemy land - and even their own people - in wholly negative and stereotypical traits... in front of their children. So those children grow up to become as petty and narrow-minded as the previous generation, and the cycle of hatred remains alive and well, much like how people of our own world keep holding on to prejudices. Phaedra, one of the few female characters in this book disliked for her Charyn heritage as opposed to her inability to give birth to men, speaks of this fact wonderfully:

"If your people mean no offense, they should not speak their thoughts out loud in front of their children, Tesadora. Because it will be their children who come to slaughter us one day, all because of the careless words passed down by their elders who meant no harm." - page 198

Poor Phaedra deserves much praise for her words. And maybe she will have a more honorable and respectful role in the next book. But back to nature versus nurture. Lady Beatriss and her child Vestie suffer due to this. And as Tesadora says, "No child is born evil." Women's words speak louder than their actions in 'Froi of the Exiles', and I'm not too sure if that is overall a good thing.

Other things that make 'Froi of the Exiles' stand out are its little touches of originality here and there in an otherwise crowded high fantasy tale. Have you ever heard of a fantasy that features a homosexual and alcoholic holy man? Or a fantasy with a desert setting (Barren Charyn), which is a brilliant contrast to the lush, green hills of its enemy land (post-cursed Lumatere)? What about different kingdoms fighting in what is essentially a pissing contest over which of their curses is the worst? Or indeed a reviled and feral princess in a medieval-style palace?

This book, like its predecessor, is all about war and the people who suffer for it. There is no happily ever after here. And that can turn humans into bastards.

Which brings me back to the rape issue. It seemed to me that the only women of worth in this novel are mothers - pretty mothers - and that those who are not are either ridiculed or regarded as whores for having sex but being unable to bear children. Now, for this story about barrenness this is a given, and it is said that the men of Charyn are "seedless", so the curse does not target only women. Still, I was concerned that the role of women hasn't really improved from 'Finnikin of the Rock'. There are lines of dialogue from both sexes that state that men fight and women stay home and take care of children. Even Queen Isaboe doesn't do much more than this, besides talking in meetings with ambassadors, and she is beloved by her people. And it is mentioned that Finnikin is the active, rational one and Isaboe is the feeling one in their relationship - both marital and political. There are no female warriors present at all, and here I though that The Lumatere Chronicles series was more advanced in its gender roles compared to other high fantasy novels. Phaedra, at first, is seen as nothing because her husband threw her out of his home. Tesadora is the one exception to all this, even if she is still in a questionable relationship with a man.

THAT IS NOT TO SAY THIS BOOK ISN'T SELF-AWARE WHEN IT COMES TO SEXIST STEREOTYPES. I feel the need to state that in capitals in order to make it perfectly clear, and that I like this book nevertheless. Men, especially warrior men, are also ridiculed - for their need to solve their problems with fists instead of words. 'Froi of the Exiles' doesn't simply derail to the old ideal "boys will be boys" excuse when it comes to rape and other forms of violence. And like I said, war and desperate times can reduce human beings to the lowest common denominator - leading to ignorance and prejudice, which this book shows the consequences of in its most bloody truth.

All my ramblings in this review may make more sense to those who have already read the book. I am trying not to reveal too many spoilers (plus I'm kind of lazy, I admit), and I realise I have probably gone on long enough and have made my point about 'Froi of the Exiles' being a conflicting novel.

Because it contains so many characters, story arcs, plot points and themes, it would take all day for me to put together my thoughts on them all. All I'll mention next is: a few surprises/turning points were obvious, and while almost nothing happens without consequences, there were little things that seem to have been forgotten about. For example, Lirah knifing Gargarin, and the valley woman Japhra falling in love with her Charynite attacker; an attempted murder that sets up the plot of this book to begin with.

HOWEVER.

While the more I think about it, 'Froi of the Exiles' isn't as strong or as heart-wrenching as 'Finnikin of the Rock' in my opinion, it is an amazing novel. I am once again impressed by Ms Marchetta's gift of writing so many complex societies and characters and issues together beautifully. Maybe I'm wrong about it being a smidge too complicated and unpleasant for its own good. Maybe it is just a very dark-but-thought-provoking experience; one that speaks truth in a high fantasy world not that much different from our own.

THEW! There you have it. My review of the acclaimed 'Froi of the Exiles'. Take from it what you will, as was the case with me when reading the book.

Final Score: 4/5