Author: John Connolly

Reader: Steven Crossley

Short Review: A decent book with a major flaw, read beautifully by Steven Crossley. Connolly’s book starts out as a promising depiction of the interior life of a bookish, depressed boy with apparently undiagnosed epilepsy and OCD. Unfortunately, it continues on into an all-too-familiar series of retellings of classic fairytales, several of which villanize women for no clear reason. I expected and hoped for more from the book itself. Thankfully, I truly enjoyed Crossley’s narration, and allowed it to carry me through a book that otherwise left me scratching my head and feeling disappointed and maligned.

Long Review: I’m a true mythology buff, so I’ve read many books that recast fairytales and myths in new lights. Some authors do a wonderful job with such work–Neil Gaiman, Angela Carter, Anne Sexton, Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill, and T.H. White all come to mind as masters. But many others can’t meet the task and end up producing novels that can’t match the wonder of the original tales or modernize them in interesting, contemporary ways. I think Connolly’s book falls in that later group.

There are some shining moments in the novel. I love David’s wondrous relationship to books, and how that connects him to his mother, arguably the only positive female character in the book. Her explanation of how real stories feel about the inconsequential stories in newspapers is lovely, and will stay with me. The end of the book is also very appealing to me. I love thinking of the adult David continuing to serve books and being a good man, once all is said and done. In general, I think Connolly is a good writer with a good sense of pace and language. I think his take on sibling rivalry is interesting, as is his vision of a child’s relationship to reality, fantasy, and death. While I was listening early on, I enjoyed the book and the narration equally. It was when I was thinking about the book between listenings that I became frustrated.

What truly disappoints me is the misogynist twist Connolly gives most of the tales used in his book. Every major female character other than David’s mother is criticized for her eating habits or weight, sexual choices, appearance, strength, weakness, hunger . . . it’s too much and too common in the book to ignore. Two persistent villains are male, yes, but we expect a werewolf and a Trickster to be villains. I won’t quibble about the child-eating witches who show up in the book as villains, since they were villains in the original forms of the tales. But was it really necessary for Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and all of the other women who show up in the book to be morphed into disgusting, senseless villains? Even Rose, David’s step-mother, is attacked for eating too much and having sex out of wedlock. What is that about? Could Connolly think of no way to retell or change those classic tales without turning all of the female central characters into monsters? Why could none of the kind characters in the book who help David in the other world be female? It really makes me wonder about the author’s views on women. Over and over again, the misogyny forced me out of the story. If Connolly needed to make so many women villains, he should have given more thought to why he needed to do so and addressed that in the book. As it is, the thread seems to reveal more about Connolly than it does about David, and it leaves me loath to bother with the rest of Connolly’s catalog.

As angry as Connolly’s misogyny makes me, I stuck with the book because Crossley’s reading is downright beautiful. I fell for him as a narrator with In The Woods. If anything, his work improves with this novel. His voice is clear and layered, his diction is great, and he voices the different characters distinctly without making too much fuss. I will absolutely seek out more books read by Crossley. I wish we’d set up our review system here at Books For Ears so we review books and readers separately: Crossley gets five stars, Connolly gets 2, max.

 Author: Neil Gaiman

 Reader: Neil Gaiman

 Short Review: Neil Gaiman reads his Newbery Medal winning book beautifully. His nod to Kipling’s The Jungle Book is just scary enough, intriguing, inventive, well-written, enchanting . . . it’s downright wonderful. I loved Bod, Silas, Scarlett, Liza, Miss Lupescu, and the rest of the graveyard’s denizens and rooted for them throughout the story. I miss them. I’ll return to this book again and recommend it to adults and kids.

Long Review: I’m a fan of Gaiman’s, and I am always intrigued by critically-acclaimed young adult fantasy, so I had to listen to this book. I was hopeful, but also worried. Some of the best books I’ve ever read were those I read when I was 10 or 12. I return to those books and keep tabs on books written for older kids, hoping to find more books to cherish and to foist on my growing nieces and nephews. But many things we’re supposed to love just fall flat for me. I’m not that impressed by some of the most beloved YA books, and some of the ones I did love then show me all of their holes when I pick them up now. This one, however, makes the good list. It’s rich enough for adults, appropriate for older kids, and enchanting for both.

Firstly, Gaiman is good at holding back. So many authors hand you all of the keys right at the beginning of the journey, and then you don’t have much to puzzle through and have less reason to keep going. Gaiman fights the urge to make sure he has told us everything there is to tell, so we keep reading, trying to line up our questions with possible answers, paying close attention to every little clue, wondering whether a character will return or a path will reappear. He refers to fascinating historical events and invents wondrous rituals and characters and communities, but he doesn’t give you so much information that any become boring. Neither does he condescend to his readers. I hate it when writers assume that kids can’t handle any frightening truths about life and death. In fact, kids see as much if not more terror and sadness as adults, and most of them don’t like being coddled. Gaiman doesn’t condescend to his readers or to the children who feature in his books.

Gaiman also happens to write strong female characters well. I wish I didn’t need to congratulate authors for doing that, but it still isn’t a given. Gaiman is a father to two daughters as well as the son whose childhood visits to a graveyard inspired this book. I think his relationship with his girls and the women in his life help him write girls and women well. That ability is particularly important for children’s and YA writers because so many boys are still hesitant to read books with female protagonists. Here, a boy is at the center of the story, but he’s surrounded by smart, heroic, strong, loving women and he cares for and respects them as much as he does Silas. It warms the cockles of my heart, that does.

Gaiman’s mythos is rooted firmly in the old greats. We see glimpses of well-researched historical fact, notice a figure from Grimm here and and an allusion to the Odyssey there. But from those roots, he takes us in very interesting directions. I love how he recasts traditional villains in new ways, making us wonder how evil some of the things we’ve had nightmares about really are. He takes the trope of fractured fairy tales a step further than many of his contemporaries. Gaiman doesn’t bother to argue with Grimm about who really understands monsters—he just plain rewrites the story in his way. It works.

I am impressed by Gaiman’s reading. I thought he did a great job with Fragile Things, and, if anything, he has gotten better. Gaiman has a nice voice, a good sense of character separation, paces himself well, and uses clear diction even when he is reading in different, heavier accents.

My only complaint is that a sequel isn’t available yet. I want to see more from this world, and I hope to see it soon.

Author: Michael Chabon
Reader: Peter Riegert

Extra features: The audiobook includes an interview with Michael Chabon about his inspiration for the book, his favorite books and genres, and his writing process.

Short Review: Chabon’s Hugo and Nebula award-winning alternate history of a world without Israel but with a temporary Jewish homeland in Sitka, Alaska. Hard-boiled detective Meyer Landsman investigates the murder of a junkie chess-player with his partner and cousin Berko Shemets, a half-Tlingit, half-Jewish cop who is a good father, a good Jew, and a good partner trying to save Landsman from himself. As the case progresses, more and more connections to organized crime, shady US government machinations, separatist Orthodox communities, and zealotry reveal themselves. Riegert is an ideal reader, comfortable with accents, Yiddish, noir, and sadness.

Long Review: I love this book. I read it on paper first, and was anxious to hear how well Reigert would handle Landsman’s voice. He does a masterful job. The book is written in the third person, but Landsman is on just about every page, so we hear his speech over and over. Reigert is careful to give Lansman, Berko Shemetz, and the other major characters distinct voices and rhythms, and he does a very good job of it. Like all of the best audiobook readers I’ve heard, Riegert balances acting with diction; maintaining a good rhythm and drawing a complete character while also keeping his accented speech easy to understand.

The novel is set in Sitka, Alaska in an alternate history. In the world of the novel, Israel fell to Arab attack in 1948, and the US agreed to make a temporary semi-autonomous federal district in Sitka for Jewish refugees. Sitka’s term of independence is ending, and all of the Jewish refugees there must prepare to leave for new homes elsewhere. As the local police are wrapping up their case files to hand over to the Americans, a junkie is murdered in the hotel where Landsman lives and Landsman takes the case. He should file the case away as quickly as possible but can’t let it go. The deeper Landsman investigates the victim and his connections, the more entangled he becomes.

Chabon writes wonderful characters, in this and all of his novels. Landsman, his ex-wife and boss Bina, Berko Shemetz, and the rest of the characters in the novel are engaging and deep and fascinating. You root for Landsman, but you also want to strangle him. Riegert’s narration intensifies that connection to Landsman and the rest. I found myself worrying about them all while listening to the novel, even though I already knew what was coming next.

Chabon does amazing things with language and speech in this novel. I’m no expert on Yiddish, of course, but I love the way Chabon intertwines Yiddish with noir phrasing and settings. It flips the whole hard-boiled detective genre–in a good way. I doubt there will ever be a sequel, but I would absolutely love the chance to follow Landsman and Shemetz on another case.

All in all, this is a fascinating, entertaining, beautifulky-read audiobook and one I know I’ll return to.

 Translator: Seamus Heaney
 Reader: George Guidall

 Short Review: Heaney’s excellent translation read well, though not perfectly, by Guidall.

 Long Review: You know already whether or not you want to listed to Beowulf as an audiobook. There are those of us who perk right up at the thought of listening to epic poetry read aloud, and those who go out of their way to avoid such theatrics. I, obviously, am in the former camp. I can think of nothing better to listen to than epic poetry. Frankly. I think the existence of epic poetry is one of the only arguments proving our species is worth keeping around. Beowulf matters, and I make sure to read it every few years. I’ve read multiple translations, and listened to parts of it recited by a number of poets and translators and actors. I love the epic, and I think Heaney’s translation is masterful.

I was sad to find that Guidall’s narration fell so flat for me. Guidall is a well-respected audio book narrator, and I expected a bit more from him. His narration is clear enough and well-paced, and his diction is good. But the words don’t sizzle in his mouth, and they should. He doesn’t declaim as a bard would. I am, perhaps, very hard to please in this particular case, but I know I’d be happier if Derek Jacobi, Philip Pullman, or Campbell Scott had read it. Still and all, it’s not bad. It’s just not as great as it should be.

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell: A Novel

Author: Susanna Clarke

Reader: Simon Prebble

Short Review: A gorgeously read version of a Hugo Award winning modern epic I absolutely love. Clarke’s novel is part Harry Potter, part Tolkein, part comedy of manners, and part historical fiction of the Napoleonic Wars. It’s long, detailed, engaging, and by turns hilarious and heartbreaking. Simon Prebble is a distinctly talented reader, with just the right tone and accent, but for one small niggling mistake that would bother only, well, me and a few of my friends. Settle into this book and cherish it as you would Tolkien or Dickens or Ovid.

Long Review: I’ll get the pip out of the way first. The word “sídhe” is important in the second half of the book. It’s an Irish word, and it’s pronounced “shee.” Prebble says “sid-hey” whenever he encounters the word, and it makes me want to strangle him just a little bit every time. I forgive him, he does it again, I forgive him, he does it again . . . you see how it goes.

Apart from that petty complaint, Prebble is a fantastic reader. He voices a myriad of characters clearly, imparting each with an individual voice and tone. One of the true charms of this book is the conflation of very proper English sensibilities and manners with improper, difficult to accept magic and magician’s idiosyncrasies. Prebble gets the tone just right, throughout. He hops from explaining the delicacies of a lady’s table manners or quiet reminders to her husband that he is monopolizing the conversation to a quasi-realistic description of a spell to revive the dead, and back again. His diction is gorgeous, which is of great importance to a work like this, and yet he changes pace and tone as the story demands, without ever seeming like a bad actor or over-excited kid. He’s a great reader, and I’ll be seeking out more of his narration.

Clarke’s book is an absolute treat. She’s clearly a careful researcher, and the sections describing the facts of the Napoleonic wars ring true. As do the sections describing fantastical, magical things that never happened during the Napoleonic Wars. She also sketches her characters well. Jonathan Strange is flawed enough that we like him but are frequently annoyed by him–good should never be too good to be real–and Mr. Norrell is infuriating right until we need him to redeem himself, and then he does. The women in the book are lovely and soft and loyal, but also strong and brilliant and dangerous when they need to be. The dozens of supporting characters are intriguing and seem to function independently and rationally, except when they’re mad. I would gladly follow the stories of The Raven King, Vinculus, Stephen Black, or Emma Pole through another epic.

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is also available through the Simply Audiobooks Rental Program.

The Goose Girl

Author: Shannon Hale

Reader: Full Cast Audio

Short Review: A magical fairy tale brought to life by an amazing cast of readers. This modern retelling of a Grimm’s tale follows Ani, Princess of Kildenree, as she finds her own inner strength and true path in life. It is officially listed for Grades 6-9, but I am here to tell you that it is a fine choice for any adult interested in getting swept along by a well told tale of magic and strength.

Long Review: I loved it. It haunted me for days. Between the well written story and the amazing full cast recording – they had me hooked. I was a bit suspicious of the full audio aspect of it before I started. Most of my audio book experience has been with solo readers. I needn’t have worried – they were fabulous! It reminded me of an old school radio show.

The story is a classic tale of a princess forced to switch roles with her handmaid. In this version our princess is more than she appears and she discovers a lot about herself and what is important to her along the way. I don’t want to tell you too much but the title points out the obvious, our princess ends up as a goose girl. How she goes from being princess to goose girl and back again of course is the story – but there is so much more woven into it.

There are lovely details of how the world works and the types of people who populate it. For instance, there are those with the skill of ‘people speaking’. You know the ones who have this – the charismatic people who can walk into a room and turn everything their way? To balance out those with ‘people speaking’ we also have those who can speak to animals and rumors of a distant time when people could speak to the elements. It may sound hokey, but Shannon Hale (who recalled the original tale from her own childhood) pulls it together to build a world where magic lives quietly in the midst of the ordinary.

The story includes love, loss, loyalty earned, intrigue, betrayal and redemption. This is one of my favorite audio books of all time.

The Penelopiad: The Myth of Penelope and Odysseus

Author: Margaret Atwood

Reader: Laural Merlington

Short Review: Margaret Atwood’s retelling of a portion of The Odyssey in Penelope’s voice, her contribution to the Canongate Myth Series, read by Laurel Merlington.

Long Review: I am a mythology nut. A buff. A, well, obsessive kook. I know this. I’m fine with this. And when I learned that I had missed the bus–that this series of books was underway and that it kicked off without me–I felt like I had caught someone kicking my dog.

Atwood, of course, retells Penelope’s story with a wonderful feminist twist. Atwood’s Penelope stands up for the maids, and criticizes her wayward husband and disingenuous suitors. She argues that her supposed beauty has long since faded, and that all of the men in the story are arguing over her for entirely unromantic reasons.

Laurel Merlington’s narration is engaging, sharp, and humorous. Her method of voicing the chorus is a bit shrill at times, but that seems fitting considering the messages they carry.

This was a good listen–I burned through it in an afternoon of puttering around my studio, and immediately missed my Ancient Greek companions. I look forward to listening to more audio books from the Canongate Myth Series.