Divergent - Veronica Roth

Initial Rating: 7.5/10

Ahh. I don’t know how to do this the right way, and it’s not because I did not enjoy this book. I enjoyed it too much, actually, getting into that tunnel-vision, sole-focus blur of nonstop reading. I had picked it up at 1 AM hoping it would help put me to sleep which failed miserably. I read until 5 AM and then finished the book later that day. It was a thrill, and I loved it.

So why only a 7.5/10?

As much as I know it isn’t fair, though, I can’t help but compare it to two of my other favorite book series, the foremost and obvious being The Hunger Games and the second being Harry Potter. If I had read Divergent before The Hunger Games or had even heard of it beforehand, it would easily have a much higher arbitrary rating here. But, as it is, I feel like I was just getting an (albeit, much appreciated) interim fix for my Hunger Games craving.

Tris is a great character, and she is cut from the same cloth as Katniss Everdeen. As she discovers, she is both selfless and daring, caring and brutal. Whereas the selflessness of Katniss is what inherently drives her to do what she does, the motives behind all of Tris’s actions are the focus. Tris could easily be a slightly inverted, parallel dimension version of Katniss. They are both tough as nails, and it’s always refreshing for me to read the voices of such strong heroines. Both have a battle between their own interests and what’s best for others, and I liked that Tris was honest enough to admit that sometimes she would rather place herself first. Sometimes I want more out of her, though; for someone who supposedly is brave, selfless, and highly intelligent, I wish she would be able to see bigger pictures at times. This is another flaw that she shares with Suzanne Collins’ character. Tris is complex and interesting. I like her.

I do, however, wish that Tris’s parents had been more developed since they are both incredibly fascinating, as well as her brother and his choices. I did enjoy the other initiates and Tris’s interactions with them, particularly Al, in spite of his ultimate fate. And I loved Four. In him, at least, Hunger Games parallels run thin. He was an interesting love interest, and I enjoyed being able to get to know him at the same time as Tris.

While the characters and certain plot elements (trials complete with a rating system, craze-inducing mind control experiments, and, of course, violence (although not so central in this case)) resonate with Hunger Games similarities, Roth’s world and norms ring to me like Extreme Hogwarts Houses. The “Sorting Ceremony” in this case involves total personal choice, and, yes, there are five options instead of four, but the five factions with distinguishing traits and habits have almost immediate parallels. Dauntless = Gryffindor, Amity  = Hufflepuff, Abnegation = a blend of those two, Erudite = Ravenclaw focus on intelligence with Slytherin bad guy motives/ ambition, and Candor = trickier but passable as some mild blend of Ravenclaw rationale and Slytherin brutal honesty. It’s what I can imagine Hogwarts Gone Wild set in future, dystopian Chicago. It’s personality factions taken to the extreme by definition, and the conflicts that arise in Roth’s world are fitting. The insidious Erudite plans are just as cruel as President Snow’s rule in the Capital, if not more so since they are under the guise of righteousness and completely out of the blue.

All in all, yes, I loved it and will be amongst those eagerly awaiting the next two books. It was heart-pounding, heart-wrenching, and just full of heart. But the reason I loved it is because, even though it isn’t exactly predictable, it is familiar to me and a place that I could comfortably enter. Although it is old parts framed into new ideas, the new doesn’t completely overcome the old, making it impossible NOT to draw on comparisons or stand on its own as an original, independent series in my mind. So in spite of my thorough enjoyment of Divergent, I can’t give it more credit.

Quick Reviews! (one)

I don’t feel like writing full reviews for these ones, so we’ll do a whole bunch in one with less detail!

At the Mountains of Madness – HP Lovecraft: Ehh… was expecting more out of supposed “master of horror.” It was such a chilling concept, a blurring of myth and reality set during the age of discovery. But it was SOOOOOO tedious/ drawn out. The overuse of details drowned out the intricately crafted civilization. If pacing had been better and description a little less, than I would be able to appreciate it more.

Hangover Two: Dissappointed. In spite of what people might think, I actually LOVE The Hangover. It’s raunchy and mildly inappropriate, yes, but it’s charming and, seriously, funny. The sequel, however, was a super-predictable mirror attempting to out-do its successor. It fails. I love the same characters/ personalities, but the light-heartedness is gone. With loss of limbs and threats of death, it’s a lot darker (and cruder) than the first, and it’s just not that creative. Yes, some parts were undeniably hilarious, but the rest of the film and its lack of new material dampered the funny.

Super 8: Liked it! I liked that it was in the style of a Spielburg classic: it was Stand By Me meets ET, only much more sinister. I liked the characters and the focus on the children even though such “grown-up” things were going on. Was it believable all the time? Of course not. But was it pleasant and fun to watch? Definite yes.

Pirates of the Carribbean 4: On Stranger Tides

Intitial Rating: 7.5/10

Shocker, right? But I actually REALLY enjoyed it (and in 3D, too, to which I can be stubbornly resistant). Jack Sparrow is the centerpiece of the Pirates franchise, and I liked that it started fresh and clean with a completely new storyline around him. It avoided the annoying confusion of the second and third films, making it my second-favorite of the four films (ranking, of course, after the brilliant first).

It was paced well, funny, and had an interesting storyline. I love Barbosa and the dynamic he has with Jack, and the introduction of Penelope Cruise’s character was refreshing. She did a great job.

I wish that the other characters had been developed more (for example, WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO THE MISSIONARY GUY AND THE MERMAID?! …yes, I am a sucker for the romantic side-plot. Sue me). Yes, it was also a predictable story, but not down to the last detail, which I liked. The twist at the end with the Spaniards was nice, I thought. Oh—and just how many haunted/ magical ships and captains are out there? Honestly…

But I mean, come on. Johnny Depp is a genius, and Jack Sparrow is one of his most masterful characters. How can you not love him?

Ethan Frome - Edith Wharton

Initial Rating: GOOD

First, I LOVE Wharton’s style. So much. And I don’t know why. I just find her to be very straightforward yet detailed—it’s not tedious, and she managed to find just the right words.

The story is engrossing considering how little happens, and it’s very addictive. I loved her depictions of nature and the contrasts. All of the honest affections were given outside, setting up a battle between freedom and domesticity. However, nature also was a trapping force, keeping characters at odds during winters. I liked the ambiguous nature of nature. What I liked about the story most, altogether, though, is what it revealed about myself as a reader more than anything, and the questions it raised in me.

I mean, the whole story is just ROUGH to get through. I know that all endings can’t and shouldn’t be happy. I would die if every story had a fluffy, Breaking Dawn-esque finale (gag). But still. This story reveals a lot about us readers and how we pick sides/ decide who we want to “win” or even define what “winning” is. And it’s revealed by what we like and dislike in the novel, but the whole thing is SET UP by the author. It’s elaborate mind control. I mean, if it had been set up from Mrs. Frome’s point of view, this whole story would read COMPLETELY different. The impact it would have would be something else in its entirety. It makes me wonder why Wharton does have us root for Ethan, and it’s a question I haven’t had energy to think through. And how much of it is fabricated by the story’s narrator and how much of it is true?

Just like nature is ambiguous, our relationship with the author is, as well. Definitely putting this on my “Read Again” list.

Paper Towns - John Green

Initial Rating: 7/10

Before I post this, let me just say that this review (and many of the others that are to follow) is based on notes taken MUCH earlier in the summer when I read this book. I don’t remember some of what I meant, and it’s been too long to write a fresh review, so this is what I have to go with… It’s going to be confusing/ not make sense, and I apologize, but maybe if you just read it, you’ll be able to get something out of it?

First of all, things I liked. I loved the connection in this story to Walt Whitman, and I actually really like how the characters fail to really reach what Whitman may have wanted, particularly with interations with Margo. Q really is an isolated string, in a way.

I liked the deep level that John Green seemed to be working on, but at the same time, the story to me lacked a bit of realism. Would they really be able to find Margo? Maybe? I mean, I guess the stakes are high. Q thinks she’s dead or may kill herself. And along the way he does realize things he doesn’t understand and manages to find her and, more importantly, himself. However, the lack of consequences make all that emotional digging seem less realistic. ALL of the characters seem to get away with basically everything without much happening in response, even after making serious threats. I do like the coming together of different social groups at the end of the year; however, it happened a LOT less dramatically my own senior year (although not exactly at the level portrayed). The back and forth between places during the clue search also felt a bit tedious to me. The clues, too, didn’t seem very follow-able to me; they seemed to make major leaps and assumptions, which made it difficult for me to believe.

Sometimes I get Q, but at other times his dialogue didn’t seem to match his interiority at all. Q became a kind of Ahab with his obsession with Margo. Whereas the love interest between Stephanie Perkins’ characters in Anna and the French Kiss was believable and charming, this was another “boy dreams of out-of-reach girl” deal to me. Really, in the end, all of these characters, places, and events are paper people, paper places in a story. It’s what we put into them as readers that makes them meaningful (as car ride commentary can show). Our reactions to them reveal more about what we want/ expect than even that. For example, I feel like the ending was perfect however much I want to fight it. Of course I was rooting for Margo to be found, come back, and fall in love with Q, but what happens fits with their true personalities. I enjoy consistencies between Green’s stories, such as the pranks, awkward male protagonists, and road trips, but I sometimes wish he would break away from such familiarities.

In the end, I realize, it comes down to that never-ending battle between realism and depth that all major young adult novels (all novels in general) must face. While this is clearly one of the deeper of Green’s stories, some of the believability suffers. Reaching a balance between the two points seems difficult, and I don’t know if I have read a story that has truly reached it.