The Dork Reviews

Insurgent (Divergent #2) by Veronica Roth

“Sometimes I feel like I am collecting the lessons each faction has to teach me, and storing them in my mind like a guidebook for moving through the world. There is always something to learn, always something that is important to understand.”

It has been established; Veronica Roth can write a good novel. With shortly just a year after its publication date, Divergent, Roth’s debut novel, has singlehandedly eased its way through the doubtful minds and incredulous hearts both of readers and critics from all across the globe. It’s among the dystopian bestsellers and a soon-to-be movie franchise as well. But the challenge doesn’t stop from there, because now comes the most crucial and challenging part: Writing the book’s sequel. If anything, I think writing the second book is far more difficult than writing the first one. There are now expectations to be met, and thousands of fans to be considered. Veronica Roth, however, didn’t let the pressure of it all get to her. Because just one year after Divergent’s success, she has emerged with her a sequel, that, for my opinion, has surpassed her first.

I won’t do an overview of the plot in avoidance to spoilers. But here’s one thing: Veronica Roth took a really big risk by skipping a lot of recapping. You know that device used in sequels where the narrator deliberately walks you through bits and pieces of pivotal events that happened in the first book? There weren’t a lot of those in Insurgent. I read it in Roth’s blog that she felt it would bog down Tris’s narrative and would sound unnatural in her voice. I have to say, I kind of agree. So although it took me quite some time to settle into Tris’s world and grasp every bit of new detail, eventually it all came smoothly. I guess it helped that I did my part and do a quick recap of book 1. Ha!

I think it’s also very interesting to point out that Veronica Roth didn’t force a love-triangle in her books. THANK GOODNESS! A refreshing break from almost every Young-adult novel out there that splits its readers into ridiculous teams. *cough*The Hunger Games*cough*Twilight*cough* I was super skeptical at first that Veronica might throw in another boy or something. As if Tris’s inner turmoil about her Divergence, the death of Will and her parents as well as the looming war aren’t enough as her burden! Oh sorry, I got carried a little away. I am just really glad that Veronica Roth evidently understands her characters enough to decide what fits and what doesn’t for them. (Oh screw it, I just ship Four and Tris so bad.)

Speaking of Miss Roth’s clear discernment towards her characters, I am really glad that the second book gave so much for their development. I’ve said it before that this is truly where she lays her strength, and I have no doubt with that. In Insurgent, we saw yet another side of every character; from a crumbling Tris, a resilient Caleb, a sensitive Lynn and even a surprisingly new facet of Peter (I love you, bb). I think it just spoke so much volume about what the Divergent series is all about. At times, the lack of background from recurring characters and the constant popping of new ones can be a bit disconcerting, but those are just my minor issues, really.

I knew her world building wasn’t flawed! Since Divergent, I just knew it! From the littlest of detail like the surrounding gate locking the rest of the characters in, as well as the obvious neglect of the entirety of the United States, I know there has to be an explanation. The first book was so cleverly written for such major detail to be ignored. Thankfully, Insurgent cemented my theory and cast away any of my doubts, because Veronica Roth proved to me how she can really manipulate which information can bring her to her best advantage. Constructed like a true Erudite. What a shrewd move.

Behemoth (Leviathan trilogy #2) by Scott Westerfeld

Quick recap: After briefly escaping the German zeppelins in the Swiss mountains, the Leviathan finally heads to Constantinople to deliver Dr. Nora Barlow’s cargo to the sultan. The British are now becoming even more apprehensive of the city’s possible participation on the ongoing war, ever since the controversy between Winston Churchill and the Ottoman Empire. So when the lady boffin’s plans go on a different course, Deryn Sharp, a girl still disguised as a Midshipman for the British Service, finds herself on a perilous mission that could possibly bring triumph to the Darwinists. Aleksander Ferdinand on the other hand, still on the run from the Germans who tried to kill him, must find a way to escape the Leviathan ship after discovering Austria-Hungary, his home country is now at war with Great Britain. After a series of adventure and misfortune, Deryn and Alek team up and join heads with Istanbul’s Committee of Union and Progress who plans to overthrow the sultan, and possibly bring this brewing war to a close.

One thing that truly amazed me about Scott Westerfeld was his effortless ability to transcend serious themes of war, diplomacy and history into the young adult scene. Everything was seamless and put-together that it never came off as confusing and complicated. Kind of quite the opposite of how children and teenagers perceive history and world war, right? At times his prose can be quite technical, especially on combat scenes, but overall his amazing world building skills simply aided him in conjuring a palpable universe where steam-driven machines and fabricated beasts co-exist. His vivid prose also made Istanbul so captivating. As a reader, I was immediately drawn into the place’s melting pot of culture; from its different languages, colorful costumes, diverse population, down to the streets’ delectable spices.

Another thing that I absolutely loved, not just with this book in particular, but with the entire Leviathan trilogy is how little romance it contained. Okay, just hear me out. I’m not being cynical and anti-intimacy here. It’s just that with so much novels nowadays being marketed for teens, almost 99.9 percent of the time, it’s tainted, if not all about romance. And while there is totally nothing wrong with that, it’s very refreshing to see that this series almost seldom fixated on Alek and Deryn’s building relationship. Despite both characters, at some point in the book, became inseparable, Scott Westefeld played with their thoughts and emotions with caution making it less apparent and very much more sublime.

The second book also introduced a myriad of new characters, a wide array of fearsome machines, as well as creatures, both formidable and cute. With the help of Keith Thompson’s awe-inspiring artworks, the story’s most iconic parts just became even more alive before my very eyes. Who wouldn’t be captivated by Thompson’s Victorian meets Anime Manga style of drawing? I am just floored with how every pivotal event in the book contributed to an epic cinematic feel which in turn, created a magnificent steampunk harmony with Scott Westerfeld’s great story-telling. Sure enough, the grand and intricate detail of every battleship, every character, and every scenario will sure nestle and linger inside my head for a very long time.

Going Boving by Libba Bray

“These are hard times. The world hurts. We live in fear and forget to walk with hope. But hope has not forgotten you. So ask it to dinner. It’s probably hungry and would appreciate the invitation.”

Roadtrips are my weakness. Take any book, horribly written or intricately plotted, and put the element of a car with nothing but the endless asphalt ahead and I am bound to love it. I guess since I was a kid, I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of hitting the road off to an uncharted, unknown destination, with nothing but a few friends beside me and enough money to spare. This probably is the reason why American Gods by Neil Gaiman and John Green’s Paper Towns hold a special place in my bookworm heart. So it wouldn’t come to no surprise that despite my initial qualms about Going Bovine’s central character, I admittedly found myself eating my own words at how amazing this book has turned out. Perhaps I should always remind myself that the first few chapters do not define a book’s entirety.

The story begins with Cameron Smith, your quintessential quote, unquote modern day Holden Caulfield and his pursuit to get through life with zero attachments, whether from the people around him or from his own emotions. Sounds like a good plan, right? That is until he gets diagnosed with a complicatedly named illness called Creutzfeldt-Jakob, or more commonly known as Mad Cow disease. And just when Cameron thinks his life is going downhill, a pink haired angel clad in plaid and combat boots shows up to tell him that there is a cure, if he’s willing to find it. And thus begins, the craziest roadtrip ever conceived.

This book’s rather a stretch, I’m telling you. But a stylistic one in my opinion, because while some complained at how Cameron’s adventure seems tad too long, I feel cutting the story short will eliminate a huge element present in the story. Every pit stop that Cameron ends up to has contributed into something substantial for his overall character. From being annoying, apathetic and nonchalant toward everything, Cameron grew into a better person that cares and enjoys life. Every tiny event became missing puzzle pieces for an imperfect and incomplete individual, that along the process, I became more and more absorbed by his story. So from hating him, I started rooting for Cameron to prevail to hopefully find his cure.

I also loved how Libba Bray’s palpable narrative transformed every unusual character of the story (from an angel, a dwarf, and even a Norse god) into accessible fictional beings. Despite being in an almost crazy and surreal version of America, the secondary characters feel real and three dimensional. Bray’s ability to shift gears when it comes to being philosophical to being downright hilarious is also something I absolutely commend. Only very few authors can pull that off without it looking forced and she did quite an effortless job doing it.

Twisted by Laurie Halse Anderson

“First thought: It was a dream Second thought: No it wasn’t Third thought: Crap”

The only lesson I learned out of reading this book is that one should not set high expectations from an author despite loving one of their previous works. I guess, I had so much high hope for Twisted to be at par with Speak, my first Laurie Halse Anderson novel. Yet no matter how hard I find reasons to like the story, the more I begin to doubt myself.

Ostentatious car references, really? Star Wars? Premature erections on all the wrong places? It’s pretty obvious that writing a male lead is not Laurie Halse Anderson’s strongest suit. Twisted had a lot of promise, mind you. It has that signature taut writing that I love and it’s very easy to read. But somehow everything went downhill after a hundred pages. One minute it’s like you’re in a light episode of One Tree Hill, the next it’s like everything went grim. 

Let It Snow by Maureen Johnson, John Green and Lauren Myracle

“I always had this idea that you should never give up a happy middle in the hopes of a happy ending, because there is no such thing as a happy ending. Do you know what I mean? There is so much to lose.” — A Cheertastic Christmas Miracle

I cannot believe it took me almost a month and a half to finish this. I apologize, that is completely not the book’s fault. It was just that the previous months, needless to say, were very crucial for my college life that it required me to give more focus on my priorities. Don’t I just sound like a mature and responsible adult while saying that? Ha! But anyway, now that the summer season has permitted me a lot of time to get back on my already-behind reading list, I am more than happy to finish the book and return to my ultimate guilty pleasure. 

Despite reading Let It Snow three months after Christmas, I have to say the book just reminded me of the many amazing things that we all just love during this special holiday. And of course, I give my props to Maureen Johnson, John Green and Lauren Myracle for creating this quirky and interconnected tale about love, friendship, miracles, and all the things in between (including Flobie Santa Villages, hash browns and teacup pigs). A book I definitely recommended for all seasons.

Case no.1: The Jubilee Express by Maureen Johnson. I will just say this right off the bat, this has got to be my favorite out of the three stories. There is just something about Johnson’s oftentimes sarcastic and witty writing style that made Jubilee, her central character, more and more interesting as the story progressed. Johnson was always on point and it never came off as pretentious or annoying. It is also quite interesting to consider that Jubilee’s story never required secondary characters to make it funnier (Sadly, the other two authors heavily RELIED on their secondary characters to give humor to their respective tales.)

Case no.2: The Cheertastic Christmas Miracle: I’m going to be completely honest, I don’t know if I just had so much high hope for John Green’s story or it simply wasn’t his best work. That, or I am well too familiar with his other books that I associate them all too much on this specific short story. This is especially the case on JP, Tobin’s best friend. All of a sudden, it was like Takumi, Ben and Hassan all over again. They’re basically the same characters with the same demeanor and personalities all cloaked in different names and nationalities (John has this habit of picking non-American middle class boys). I also didn’t care too much on Tobin and The Duke’s love story as it was oh-so predictable, and also the nickname ‘The Duke’ kinda reminded me of ‘The Colonel’ circa Looking for Alaska, so that threw me off a bit. 

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green (no spoilers!)

“Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book.”

Fact: I am not a very emotional person. I rarely cry over fictional characters, books especially. So to be quite honest, even I was utterly surprised on how I responded when I finished reading John Green’s latest literary masterpiece. (Read: Buckets of tears) I mean, I was moved by his other works – Looking for Alaska and Paper Towns to be specific, but The Fault in Our Stars left me in a complete emotional wreck I was almost out of words after reading. Combining equal parts humor, nostalgia, sophistication and wisdom, the book has exceeded any of my expectations (and reservations) when reading fiction.  I guess, Markus Zusak has articulated it perfectly–without any shadow of a doubt–this is John Green at his best.

Ever since I became a fan of John, I’ve always known what his strongest suit is; he simply gets it. He completely utterly understands how to tap into your emotions and write prose in its absolute perfection. He doesn’t just string beautiful words together, he conjures thought-provoking philosophical reflections that illuminate uncharted territories teenagers are sometimes too afraid to explore. With ideas about the human consciousness, existentialism, oblivion and life after death, John effortlessly blends these oftentimes disparate ideas into one cohesive story. Simultaneously, John never forgets who his audience is, for he always writes in his signature mix of educated humor and unadulterated nerdiness. The Fault in Our Stars is no exception to that golden John Green quality.

Aside from a heartbreaking and beautifully told story, the real heart of the book lies in two of the main characters – another John Green trademark. He knows how to create this world filled with interesting people all with different personalities screaming in their own unique voices. Once again, I found myself immersed into Hazel and Augustus’s own little world, sharing their fascination of The Imperial Affliction and their relentless search for answers about life. In the absence of dystopian societies, vampires and wizards, it can be quite a challenge to draw young readers into realistic fiction. John however takes this opportunity to give focus more on the raw emotions rather than the plot itself. 

Never mistake that just because at the some point the book evoked this certain whim of loss and suffering that the book as a whole is ALL about loss and suffering. In fact, The Fault in Our Stars is quite the opposite. If you try to look closely, it is an uplifting book that celebrates the importance of life, being in love, friendship and living your life to the fullest. Perhaps what made the book even more close to my heart is the fact that I was part, with the rest of the Nerdfighters, of seeing the book grow: from being an unnamed new John Green book, to countless months of waiting for the official title, seeing John read chapters one and two on livestream, down to the release of the official cover. Heck, I even felt like I was also there when John signed all the preorders!

The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin

“That’s what she was, Joanna felt suddenly. That’s what they all were, all the Stepford wives: actresses in commercials, pleased with detergents and floor wax, with cleansers, shampoos, and deodorants. Pretty actresses, big in the bosom but small in the talent, playing housewives unconvincingly, too nicey-nice to be real.”

To cook up something that is both horrifying and intellectual takes only a man of high caliber of experience. So it wouldn’t come to no surprise that Ira Levin, the man behind Rose Mary’s Baby came up with something equally haunting and beautifully crafted. At once a satire and a savage social commentary on a patriarchal media-driven society that suppresses woman empowerment and liberation, The Stepford Wives takes its readers on a horrifying look on suburban life. The book created so much cultural impact, that the title itself left an indelible mark in our consciousness. After all, there is a reason why popular culture used the term “Stepford Wife” as a reference to a submissive and docile housewife. 

We begin when Joanna and Walter Eberhart moved from the busy lights of the city to a sleepy little suburban town of Stepford, Connecticut. Everything about the town seems to be an ideal paradise for couples - perhaps too ideal. For behind the Stepford’s cheery and idyllic façade lies a dark terrible secret – a secret so shattering that no one who encounters it will ever be the same. In a race against time, Joanna must outwit the people behind this horrible plot, or she will end up just like the housewives she feared and despised – “mere actresses on commercials, pleased with detergents and floor wax, with cleansers, shampoos, and deodorants.” 

I specifically liked Levin’s straightforward narration. It was fast paced and very easy to read. He didn’t give too much flowery details as the focus wasn’t on the prose but on the actions taking place. The precision of this form of writing, I feel is very important, as it can be oftentimes mistaken to as haphazard writing. A wicked deadpan humor apparent in the story is also something I quite enjoy. Readers will often find Joanna, the story’s heroine, in witty conversations inside her head. Her interactions with Bobbie, a Stepford neighbor and friend, were also something I found entertaining. With all of these, I became more and more sympathetic for Joanna’s character. After a hundred pages, you’ll find yourself rooting for her to escape. A literary tactic of Levin which I feel, brought a more horrific close to the story (oops, spoiler). 

An Abundance of Katherines by John Green

“And the moral of the story is that you don’t remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened.” - Colin Singleton

Ask a Nerdfighter what their favorite John Green book is and they will tell you either one of these two options: Paper Towns or Looking for Alaska. I never really understood why only a few people liked An Abundance of Katherines, pre-reading, to be quite honest. It’s a Printz Honor book, I always remind myself. So when I was about to start what I call as the “unloved middle child” of the John Green books, I decided setting my expectations on a safe level would be smart. And what an ingenuous move it was indeed, because I ended up loving the story more than I expected.

An Abundance of Katherines tells us the story of a recent Dumpee and a former child prodigy named Colin Singleton. In a pursuit of mattering after being dumped nineteen times by nineteen different Katherines, Colin sets out on a roadtrip across America. With an overweight Judge-Judy obsessed best friend riding shotgun and ten thousand dollars in his pocket, Colin is determined to predict the future of all relationships, save himself from his own swimming pool of pity, reinstate his prodigy status, and possibly win him a girl.

What is not to love about this book? Why is it not getting that much love from Nerdfighteria? I completely have no idea. I personally adore John’s writing with this one – kind of surprising since I was so used into seeing him write in first person. The narrative was funny and very dorky, with all of its footnotes, which I surprisingly enjoyed. I also liked Colin and Hassan’s interactions. All their inside jokes, crazy antics and code words made the story more hilarious.

Not only did John singlehandedly achieve the perfect balance of teenage angst and humor, he had also successfully made his readers think. A John Green signature, I suppose. Thematically, Abundance of Katherines is filled with questions of mattering, self-perception, the deviousness of our memories and the importance of stories. As a regular John Green reader, this subtle approach on breaching serious topics really what makes him a force to be reckoned with.

Stardust by Neil Gaiman

“He stared up at the stars: and it seemed to him then that they were dancers, stately and graceful, perfomrming a dance almost infinite in its complexity. He imagined he could see the very faces of the stars; pale, they were, and smiling gently, as if they had spent so much time above the world, watching the scrambling and the joy and the pain of the people below them, that they could not help being amused every time another little human believed itself the center of its world, as each of us does.” 

I guess I would’ve liked the book a lot more if I have read it before I saw the movie adaptation. I know this is unfair of me since we’re talking of two completely different mediums, but I just can’t help but compare the two! I just fell head over heels over the movie that I was half-expecting for the book to be quite the same. Sadly, the book became rather blunt compared to the grand details of its movie counterpart – kind of ironic really, since I thought giving details were a book’s strongest suit. 

Nonetheless, I like the book plotwise, as well as the execution of the narrative. The writing feels genuine and very believable. I just wish for more character development though, as I felt some parts feel a wee bit rushed. I was also disappointed that there is no Captain Shakespeare in the book. Needless to say, but those parts with the flying ship were my most favorite, and if not the most pivotal part of the story. That was the reason why I felt Tristran and Yvaine’s feelings toward each other in the end seemed artificial. To me, it just lacked an emotional build-up. Another thing was the absence of the final epic battle, which was something that I was not expecting. 

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson

“When people don’t express themselves, they die one piece at a time.” – Mr. Freeman 

When you come across a book that tackles about anxiety and depression, you oftentimes expect a lot of chapters filled with moping, dialogues soaked in gloom, and possibly an overall storm cloud sitting comfortably above your protagonist’s head. Not if the book that you’re reading is Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, who taught me that it is possible for a book that touches a very sensitive issue to be enjoyed and well-remembered through its unique voice and story-telling.

Exhibit A: The Central Character. For someone who has undergone a very traumatic experience, Melinda Sordino sure has a very wicked sense of humor. From the way she thinks towards the people around the book as well as her amusing way of naming them. Since I am hearing the story solely from her, I can never know the real names of the other characters in the story. I can only recall them based on Melinda’s interesting naming scheme. Names like Hairwoman, her English teacher, Mr. Neck, the stern Social Studies professor, Principal Principal, no explanations need, Rachel/Rachelle, her ex-bestfriend and so on. 

It is also quite interesting to point out that despite talking very seldom throughout, her voice as a narrator left an indelible mark in my head. There were the occasional fits of melancholia but overall, her way of thinking undeniably reflects how my mind sometimes works. It’s also kind of fun being inside her head. Regardless of her very low self esteem and the depression that she’s been going through, it was done not just to make it relatable, but to make the story interesting. Definitely a book that brims with depression, that doesn’t bring you to tear yourself in half.

Exhibit B: The Narrative. Another thing I surprisingly found enjoyable. Chronicling Melinda’s entire freshman year in high school and showing the aftermath of a horrible summer party, Halse Anderson found a way to make Melinda’s journey quite engaging through straightforward narration, quick exchanges of dialogue and deadpan language. Not only did it make the story stand, it also underscored the impact that Melinda had gone through that summer – something that I won’t be revealing as it might spoil future readers.

The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

“So, I guess we are who we are for alot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.” ― Charlie

It seems like coming-of-age really has become a household genre in almost all bookworms. Thanks to one Catcher in the Rye by one J.D Salinger, the possible grandfather of all coming-of-age novels, readers can finally take a glimpse of the rollercoaster ride of what’s it like being a teenager and see different stories of struggles about growing up. After sixty years since being published, Salinger’s masterpiece still continues to inspire and shape many of today’s stories as we know it. With so much new authors exploding, from Laurie Halse Anderson to David Levithan, Jonathan Safran Foer to John Green, one name seems to stand out. Using the innocent and thoughtful voice of Charlie, Stephen Chbosky gives us The Perks of Being A Wallflower, a firsthand account of a boy teetering on the brink of adolescence.

Now, I’m not going to elaborate on the story’s details as I feel everyone is already familiar with the book. Instead, I will just divide what I like about Perks in three parts. First: The setting. I know Charlie didn’t really elaborate that much on the setting where the story took place. But with a plethora of references from literature, television shows and music (my favorite) somehow, on a different level, Chbosky did manage to encapsulate the essence of the era that his characters are in. 

Second: The people. Perks is nothing without its vibrant set of characters. You have Patrick, the one with this affecting ball of energy, Sam with her inherent wit and her wonderful taste in music, Mary Elizabeth and her magazine called Punk Rocky (dedicated to all things punk rock and Rocky Horror), heck even Bob and his penchant for trivia. Aside from the characters, one thing that I also liked is Charlie’s relationship with his family – his mother and sister in particular. I found it truly beautiful how his relationship with the two grew throughout the story.

Lastly: of course, the writing: There is just something innocent and honest about Charlie that I really find so expressive and refreshing. Chbosky’s prose is simple and profound without making it look like a thirthy year old guy trying to sound fifteen. His way of conveying his characters’ emotions has a resounding accuracy to the teenage spirit that it never comes off as feeling pretentious. Also, the ingenious format of the book is something I really commend. Using a collection of letters as chapters made the story more intimate, making the readers feel as if Charlie is not only a character in a book, but a friend that you can confide to.

The Best of This Is A Crazy Planets by Lourd Ernest H. de Veyra

“This is the Philippines, where the boundaries between showbiz, sports and politics become more blurry by the television minute”

The Lourd has spoken.

Well, Lourd de Veyra that is. And he wants you to listen. For he will tell take you to a raucous ride filled with tongue in cheek humor about some of the awesome and, at times, awful Filipino idiosyncrasies there are today. And he’s by no means holding back; in fact The Best of This Is A Crazy Planets holds thirty different expositions from his Spot.ph blog that will make you burst into tears of laughter. Don’t be fooled by this man’s witty banters though, because he backs his humor with an equal amount of substance. By taking cue on Pinoy pop culture and politics, Lourd de Veyra dissects every topic with such wit and compassion that, sometimes, it really hits home–hard.  

I personally enjoyed this book so much. His take on some of the Filipino absurdities are just so spot on; from our perverse fascination and disdain on the lives Kris Aquino (‘The Unbearable Heaviness of Being K’) and the Pacquiao family (‘Keeping Up With The Pacquiaos’), as well the preposterous Senate hearings on the Hayden Kho-Katrina Halili scandal (‘Sex and the Senate’) down to our overly sensitive church (‘Daring Acts of Blasphemy’) and our lack of discipline on the road (‘Wala Ngang Wang-Wang, Meron Namang..’) Lourd just perfectly articulates what we sometimes fail to see, or sometimes too oblivious to notice. His words are so authentically his own combining equal amounts of flair, gritty humor and Filipino charm. You’d be surprised to read with all the hilarity that he could actually quote Oscar Wilde and Heraclitus without being out of context.

Divergent by Veronica Roth

“Human beings as a whole cannot be good for long before the bad creeps back in and poisons us again.” — Mrs. Prior

After the success that The Hunger Games has paved, indeed 2011 is the year of the dystopian for the young-adult book scene. With much acclaim to Suzanne Collin’s brainchild, it comes to no surprise how most bookstores nowadays almost exploded with new dystopian titles. Though I haven’t yet explored this new genre that has resurfaced in the YA scene that thorough, I firmly believe that Divergent by Veronica Roth is one of few dystopian titles that truly deserve its hype. 

For one, the plot is very well thought out, with subtle themes about free-will and morality enmeshed throughout the story. Although in the beginning, the dichotomy of the society somehow threw me off. I struggle to determine which is which, but after a few chapters the factions started to grow on me. There is, however a flaw with Roth’s world building – one thing that is very crucial in science fiction. The story is set in a futuristic Chicago but it never mentioned the entire of United States. What happened to the other parts of it? Are they divided into factions as well? In a perfectly written book, I wonder if Roth purposely withheld that information for the next book, Insurgent. I sure hope so. 

Roth may have problems plotwise, but her characters though; I have to say are written flawlessly. I think this is where she lays her strength. From a story that divides people into factions, Roth found a way to portray each character with sheer believability. She could have just written their personalities based on their factions, but instead Roth explored the human condition and showed the readers how complex a person is. Almost all the characters are somewhat ambiguous appearing neither good nor evil, but rather a flawed human being. 

Fans of the book have also compared it with The Hunger Games, and by looking at it from a standpoint of an HG fan, I can clearly see why. The competitive and hostile environment on Tris’s Dauntless initiation somehow reminded me of the Games. As well as the underground Dauntless compound, which for some reason, felt to me like District 13 inMockinjay. But these are just minor little things, really. What’s the big deal about it? After all, the The Hunger Games was compared to Battle Royale at first right? 

Coraline by Neil Gaiman

“I don’t want whatever I want. Nobody does. Not really. What kind of fun would it be if I just got everything I ever wanted just like that, and it didn’t mean anything? What then?” — Coraline Jones

Neil Gaiman sure has an undeniable ability of conjuring a realm that blurs the lines between the beautiful and the bizarre. Whenever I come across a book with his name in it, I always brace myself for an exhilaratingly strange journey. He just finds beauty in the most unexpected of places; from defunct roadside attractions, eerie-looking graveyards, old mysterious houses, and sleepy villages. He doesn’t just tell you a story, he has a way of transporting you with him, sucking you in – into a world that will nestle and linger in your memories forever. A true mark of a man with talent.

Here in Coraline, Neil Gaiman just proved to me how versatile he could be. A story most people claim is akin, or should I say a more twisted and horrifying take of Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland, Coraline tells us the story of a young girl who found herself into a parallel reality strangely similar to the life she knows. It all seemed wonderful at first; kinder set of parents, delectable food, animated toys even talking animals! But at the same time, Coraline suspects something unsettling about the place. After all, the people in this other place do have buttons as eyes. In a race against time, Coraline must use all her wits to outsmart her other mother, save real parents or be stuck in that ghastly place for eternity.

I am quite amazed at how Coraline is considered as a children’s book. Yes, book is short and fast-paced, the prose is very straightforward and the narrative is reasonably easy to follow but looking back, I don’t think my eight year old self can sleep bearing the images the book has produced inside my head. I just wished I’d read the book before seeing the film. Unfortunately, I was one of thousands who had read it after the film was released. The feeling was rather different. I kept picturing the cartoon images of the film while reading that it somehow deteriorated the scare element that was supposed to be present. Don’t get me wrong, I do love the film version.

Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan

“I always think of each night as a song. Or each moment as a song. But now I’m seeing we don’t live in a single song. We move from song to song, from lyric to lyric, from chord to chord. There is no ending here. It’s an infinite playlist.” — Nick

It was supposed to be just any other night. Nick, recently dumped, is just starting to piece together his life back through music. After having his heart crushed, the last thing that he wanted to see is the girl responsible for the crushing with another guy. And what’s the most rational thing a non-queer bassist in a queer-core band can do but ask the random girl next to him to be his girlfriend for five minutes. Enter Norah; a straight-edged passionate music fanatic with sarcasm the size of Manhattan. After one unexpected, electric kiss, the five-minute couple of Nick and Norah found themselves on uncharted adventure across the magnificent landscape of the New York nightlife only to realize that what started out as a spontaneous ploy can be something surprisingly real.

It was a short read—the events of the book spanning for a whole night—and if it wasn’t for the heinous amounts of schoolwork, I can actually finish it in one sitting. At the same time, I found myself stalling it as admittedly, I was smitten by two lead characters. Never have I purposely slowed my reading pace since Looking for Alaska. I just fell in love with this book so much; I was enamored by the book’s prose. Rachel Cohn and David Levithan is such an exquisite pair of authors, having a deep and intimate knowledge about how a teenage mind works. I just laud Cohn’s way of writing Norah’s character. She was so frigid and so fragile all at the same time. From Norah’s view of things, her introspections and even her potty mouth, Cohn has managed to flesh out a beautifully imperfect character that I actually found myself connecting to. Nick, on the other hand, written by David Levithan is just as charming. I wouldn’t be surprised if girls went head over heels for him. He is like this wounded soul propelled by music to keep him moving—a genuine young boy bursting with words and lyrics. This is the second time Levithan impressed me with his words. After writing my favorite half of Will Grayson, Will Grayson, I think it’s about time I explore more of his works.

Looking For Alaska by John Green

Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia. You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present. — Alaska Young

Probably John Green’s most celebrated work, at last, after an incessant amount of searching, I have finally read Looking For Alaska. It took me almost a week to finish it, although in my defense I was struggling to juggle backlogs of school work while I perused through Alaska’s labyrinth. Also, I was actually trying, on a very flimsy effort at that, to stall my way into finishing an amazing book. Like they say, you know you have a good book in your hands, when you’re torn between reading too fast—to know what happens next—and wanting to slow down because you’re just not ready to reach its end yet. But alas, things that go together, must fall apart at some point.

Beautifully written using Miles Halter’s increasingly witty and oftentimes philosophical first person voice, Looking For Alaska tells us the story of Miles’s pursuit in what the great poet Francois Rebalais called as “The Great Perhaps”. With the poet’s dying words with him, Miles “Pudge” Halter leaves his uninteresting life in Florida and seek The Great Perhaps in his new boarding school in Alabama. There he starts anew and gets befriended by Chip, a badass Almanac genius who goes by the nickname, “The Colonel”, Takumi, a slyly funny Japanese-American with a gift with rapping, and most importantly, Pudge gets befriended by the beautiful, dead sexy, enigmatic and self-destructive, Alaska Young. From that point on, Pudge found himself pulled into Alaska’s labyrinth and was catapulted into his Great Perhaps. 

Once again I would like to commend John Green’s gift of balance. I cannot even fathom how amazed I am by the way he writes his prose. The words, dialogues and even the actions of Pudge and the rest of the characters were so sharp and authentic to the teenage spirit that the occasional cussing just came so naturally. At the same time, Green manages to transcend his characters, Pudge in particular, through deeper insights. The weight of Pudge’s thoughts and introspections about major themes in the book like death and religion had a certain depth in it, without looking precocious and contrived. I also admire John Green’s method by using Pudge’s musings and his penchant for dying words to inspire his readers to think. Needless to say, but I found myself thinking too, about life, about suffering, about forgiveness and what comes next after we die.

The ingenious structure of the novel is also something I’m incredibly impressed with. I don’t wanna give spoilers but John Green successfully captured the immensity of that “definitive moment” by splitting the book into “Before” and “After”. True enough, you can really see the apparent emotional growth that gradually redefined Pudge and the other characters’ understanding of the world after that unfortunate loss. Although at some point, the book evokes this certain air of misery and melancholia, Looking For Alaska still brims with positive anecdotes and philosophical reflections about life and our relentless search for the meaning of existence. 

InterWorld by Neil Gaiman and Michael Reaves Alternate realities. An ambiguous floating city. The eternal struggle between science and magic. An unlikely hero. Put everything in one coherent universe and the awesomeness that is InterWorld is born. Master storyteller and bestselling author, Neil Gaiman joins head with award winning science fiction writer, Michael Reaves to bring us an epic tale of adventure, danger and friendship set across the multiple dimensions and alternate realities ever imagined. 

Gaiman sure has a penchant for unlikely heroes; from the devil Crowley of Good Omens to the curious Coraline to the clumsy Tristan Thorn of Stardust down to the enigmatic Shadow from American Gods.

Here on InterWorld, Neil gives us Joey Harker. A boy with no sense of direction, and when I say that, I mean it literally. He sucks at directions and oftentimes confuses left from right. Heck, Joey even gets lost in their own house. So after a bizarre Social Studies experiment, Joey finds himself really lost—like inadvertently-walking-from-one-dimension-to-another kind of lost. An alternate reality where he realizes a Joey Harker no longer exist. Freaked out by all the peculiarity, Joey gets befriended by a mysterious man on a silver suit who calls himself Jay. With his help, Jay explained how Joey is called a Walker, able to walk from different dimensions and alternate realities at ease. A wonderful ability really, but his Walking skills actually makes him prey to powerful forces of science and magic who will do anything to harness his ability. 

It’s a very entertaining read, I have to say. Almost very reminiscent of a distant Doctor Who episode that is yet to be written. The science fiction terms and concepts are not that very hard to grasp, thinking that the huge chunk of the story revolves around metaphysics and a multidimensional universe. I ultimately liked the psychedelic hodgepodge that is the “In-Between,” a sort of shortcut where Walkers can use in travelling from world to world. Everything in the In-Between is sort of dream at the same time, a nightmare—very Neil Gaiman!

Amidst the overly intricate plot, I think the story’s charm also lies with the main character itself. Despite being a boy with special abilities, Joey Harker learned a lot about self-worth, courage and taking risks in the course of the story—making him a very relatable character among the readers.