OSC, Crystal City; Teresa Medeiros, Once an Angel
Tue, Nov. 11th, 2003 07:14 pmWell, sadly, Crystal City hasn't revived my nascent interest in the Alvin series, although I can almost sense Card trying to take the story back to where it began by suddenly remembering things like the Unmaker, Taleswapper, Tenskwa-tawa, and others. I may be exaggerating though, as I haven't read Alvin Journeyman and Heartfire in a while. The book also felt very short and abrupt, although that could also be because I read it in a night. And yet, what really happens? We have the Crystal City (finally!). Alvin has freed some slaves/helped people. Verily doesn't do anything. Margaret doesn't do anything. Calvin whines a lot. Arthur Stuart does some stuff. And what should have been miraculous and awe-inspiring, like Alvin's bridge, was perhaps glossed over or gone over too fast. In fact, I feel kind of as though this book were the first hundred pages of a rather weighty novel dealing in weighty things, except Card hasn't gotten there yet. And I'm quite frustrated, because I've been waiting for him to get there for almost eight years or more! Sigh.
Once an Angel didn't revive much interest either. First though, why didn't anyone tell me it was inspired by A Little Princess? I loved that book! (ooo, must dig up a copy of my own now) I think I might have liked it better had I not expected a tortured heroine. For anyone just wandering in, tortured heroines are my thing, especially when they're emotionally withdrawn (like the typical romance hero). I think Emily was tortured, but I didn't quite feel her to be so, because the things she did appeared to me to be exaggerations of things that "spunky" heroines (who I usually want to strangle) will do. Also: she rescues puppies. I didn't get a sense of much moral quandry or even real hate/ambivalence toward Justin. I did enjoy lots of the Little Princess scenes -- the name Emily (was the Carew girl named Emily as well as Sara's doll?), Emily's doll, Tansy/Becky crawling from under the table after Miss Amelia/Minchin breaks the news to Emily... I have to admit I got a little confused wiht the names too... I think Medeiros squashed Miss Minchin and Miss Amelia into one character. She also got rid of the two characteristics I loved the most about Sara, her love of books/knowledge and her iron control over her emotions. One of my favorite parts of the book is when Sara tells herself that there's nothing as strong as rage, except what makes you hold it in. This is something I can't see Emily the impulsive doing. I guess too many typical cute romance scenes when I was looking for giant angst (Emily chases a lizard! She breaks a tea set! She conquers the nice natives! etc). I actually haven't read the final chapter yet because I ran to the bookcase and read bits of Kinsale's The Prince of Midnight, which pretty much always takes care of my need for angst.
Despite being slightly disappointed with the book, I had a wonderful what-if in my head: what if the Magic never happened to Sara? What if Ermengarde's father took her out of the school? Or what if Sara simply continued to freeze out Ermengarde, Lottie and Becky? Year by year, she grows more bitter and more tired, and her stories of the Bastille and the Magic and her belief in stories begins to fade. She's tired of watching Melchisedec's family die, of watching the Large Family grow up happily. She's forever hungry, not only for food, but for books and words and new ideas. She's afraid that she's really become nothing but a beggar girl, and she can't remember India much anymore because of the London fog. She's so angry at life she wakes up with blood on her lips, and she's tired of the unending monotony of her days. And every night, she stands with her head poking through the skylight, and she wishes for something to take her away. She wants to fly, like the sparrows, and sometimes she can almost convince herself that tonight, she can conquer gravity. And if not, maybe that wouldn't be so bad either.
Once an Angel didn't revive much interest either. First though, why didn't anyone tell me it was inspired by A Little Princess? I loved that book! (ooo, must dig up a copy of my own now) I think I might have liked it better had I not expected a tortured heroine. For anyone just wandering in, tortured heroines are my thing, especially when they're emotionally withdrawn (like the typical romance hero). I think Emily was tortured, but I didn't quite feel her to be so, because the things she did appeared to me to be exaggerations of things that "spunky" heroines (who I usually want to strangle) will do. Also: she rescues puppies. I didn't get a sense of much moral quandry or even real hate/ambivalence toward Justin. I did enjoy lots of the Little Princess scenes -- the name Emily (was the Carew girl named Emily as well as Sara's doll?), Emily's doll, Tansy/Becky crawling from under the table after Miss Amelia/Minchin breaks the news to Emily... I have to admit I got a little confused wiht the names too... I think Medeiros squashed Miss Minchin and Miss Amelia into one character. She also got rid of the two characteristics I loved the most about Sara, her love of books/knowledge and her iron control over her emotions. One of my favorite parts of the book is when Sara tells herself that there's nothing as strong as rage, except what makes you hold it in. This is something I can't see Emily the impulsive doing. I guess too many typical cute romance scenes when I was looking for giant angst (Emily chases a lizard! She breaks a tea set! She conquers the nice natives! etc). I actually haven't read the final chapter yet because I ran to the bookcase and read bits of Kinsale's The Prince of Midnight, which pretty much always takes care of my need for angst.
Despite being slightly disappointed with the book, I had a wonderful what-if in my head: what if the Magic never happened to Sara? What if Ermengarde's father took her out of the school? Or what if Sara simply continued to freeze out Ermengarde, Lottie and Becky? Year by year, she grows more bitter and more tired, and her stories of the Bastille and the Magic and her belief in stories begins to fade. She's tired of watching Melchisedec's family die, of watching the Large Family grow up happily. She's forever hungry, not only for food, but for books and words and new ideas. She's afraid that she's really become nothing but a beggar girl, and she can't remember India much anymore because of the London fog. She's so angry at life she wakes up with blood on her lips, and she's tired of the unending monotony of her days. And every night, she stands with her head poking through the skylight, and she wishes for something to take her away. She wants to fly, like the sparrows, and sometimes she can almost convince herself that tonight, she can conquer gravity. And if not, maybe that wouldn't be so bad either.