The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman

Just finished reading this today. I enjoyed The Subtle Knife more than The Golden Compass. I think primarily because the characters in The Subtle Knife make mistakes. They seem more human. Things seemed way too convenient in The Golden Compass...everything just fell into place, with the occasional minor diversion, which usually ended up fitting neatly into the plot anyway (such as Lyra falling out of Lee Scoresby's balloon and getting captured by the bears).

Another thing that I enjoyed about the The Subtle Knife was that it got more into the specifics of Dust (Shadows, dark matter, what ever). I think subconsciously I found Lyra somewhat annoying, and it was nice to learn more about the plot and how all the various characters fit into everything. The addition of Will was particularly interesting. He's almost like a male version of Lyra--I actually suspected that Lord Asriel might be the father of both of them, except in different worlds. Of course, now that I know that isn't the case, I'm leaning more toward an Adam and Eve connection. Overall, I felt that The Subtle Knife seemed to really dig into the religious and political ideas that Pullman laid the groundwork for in The Golden Compass, which focused much more on Lyra as a character, and emphasized her importance in this mysterious grand scheme.

I don't know why I can't seem to assemble any coherent thoughts about this trilogy so far. All I know is that I'm enjoying the story!

The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

I am simply too tired/lazy to write a summary, so here is my reaction to the book, which I just finished tonight!

Usually, I'm not a fan of fantasy. I finished this book in a few days, and if I hadn't had to work, probably would have read it in a single sitting. It's a good story and really draws you in. I rated it 3/5 stars mainly because I felt that some of the characters fall flat, and I wish that the church and all it entails were more deftly woven into the story. It comes up a few times throughout the book, but most of the information about the church and its possible connection to Dust is revealed within the last 50 pages, when Lyra finally finds her father, Lord Asriel. I do appreciate that Pullman doesn't spend pages and pages simply world-building and explaining things--the writing is almost always directly developing either the plot or characters, not really the world that hangs in the background. However, I do wish there was more detail about the church and how religion functions in this world (I suppose we're to assume that it's essentially like our own universe's version of Christianity?).

I suppose the next two books will go into far more detail about the church--it is a trilogy after all, so I can only judge it according to what I know so far...and I only know 1/3 of it. I saw the movie when it came out in theaters (which prompted me to look into the books), and was surprised while reading to find that I could recall almost scene-by-scene the progression of the story. Granted, I saw the movie quite some time ago, and it isn't exactly fresh in my mind, but nonetheless I was impressed that--from what I can remember--the movie seems to translate the book almost exactly. I'll have to watch the movie again and see how it compares now that I've read the book.

One thing that I think comes through in the book more than it did in the movie is the presumption that the audience is intelligent and composed of both children and adults. As a children's story, it was refreshing not to have things spelled out constantly, to have characters feel rage and lust and disappointment. Pullman manages to address a lot of interesting themes and creates characters who are human--they deceive, lie, love, hate, falter, and hope. The tension between Lyra and her parents and between her parents themselves are some of the most interesting character interactions in the novel (in my opinion). I'm definitely intrigued by the sick sort of sadomasochistic relationship between Lord Asriel and Mrs. Coulter. It's also interesting to see how Lyra reflects certain characteristics of her parents--who thus far appear to be the antagonists--while Lyra, the heroine, must use those very same qualities for good.

I should be careful about using words like good and evil, since at this point in the story, it seems that "good" and "evil" are largely undetermined. It seems clear-cut for a good chunk of the book, but by the end I think that dichotomy is disrupted.

Anyway, I'll wait to pass further judgment until I've read the next two books.

Yes Man by Danny Wallace

Yes Man is the tale of a man who takes the advice of a random stranger to "Say yes more." He takes this suggestion to the extreme and challenges himself to quite literally say yes to everything (including email spam telling him he's won the Spanish lottery). Needless to say, this leads to many humorous situations. Danny's childlike optimism is occasionally shattered, but he somehow manages to stay determined throughout it all and in the end, learns how positive and negative approaches to everyday experience can drastically change the direction of one's life.

One of my favorite aspects of this book is Danny's whimsical approach to life. At times he is naive, silly, even idiotic, but he undeniably has a wonderful appreciation and understanding of people and all their idiosyncrasies. Rather than shying away from awkward situations with strangers, Danny embraces those situations and fosters many new friendships, often leading to amazing opportunities.

A few of my favorite stories:
- Danny journeys to Amsterdam in order to collect the money he "won" in the Spanish Lottery. Unfortunately for Danny, the whole Lottery bit doesn't quite work out, but he does meet a few travelers, one of whom offers to take him on a tour of Amsterdam. It turns out to be a wild night, involving, among other things, a psychotropic mindbomb. Danny wakes up the next morning to find a portrait of himself with a small dog on his shoulder. Danny does not own a dog.

- After traveling on a whim to Barcelona to meet Marc (another "Yes Man"), he hops on a plane to Singapore just for the hell of it and lets a kind taxi driver lead him around the city. He enjoys a peaceful afternoon on Pulau Ubin, where he is chased by a lizard while riding a bike.

- Danny meets up with a hypnotist and his hypno-dog, who wears a fez.

Yes Man is an easy read, and Danny's writing is amusing and inviting. He admits his own mistakes and failures, but nonetheless fully embraces "yes" and encourages others to do the same. Danny's experiences are a testament to the power of a simple three letter word and all the positive energy it radiates.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

Never Let Me Go is an interesting book. It has a sci-fi, dystopian future vibe to it, but in a subtle way (which becomes less subtle toward the end). It technically takes place in the past--1990's in England--but I kept sort of thinking of it like it was in the future anyway. It's just sort of a natural assumption when my brain is in sci-fi mode. But the story itself does plausibly seem like it's set in the near-past because of a few cultural references, and just the general lack of totally out-there technology. The world is pretty normal aside from the fact that in the novel, humans are cloned and used for the sole purpose of organ-harvesting, and even that doesn't seem too far-fetched.

There were a few things that bothered me about this novel, however.

1. The character Ruth is absolutely intolerable. She's the hugest bitch ever, and I felt very little, if any, sympathy for her, even toward the end when she becomes a donor and all the fight drains out of her. I see how she fits into the whole dynamic of the plot and the entire subplot of determining whether or not the clones have souls--she's a very "human" character, complete with plenty of flaws. But she's still very annoying.

2. You know how sometimes an author will beat around the bush when it comes to bearing all the gritty details of the plot? And then there's suddenly a convenient chapter/scene when ALL IS REVEALED, and all the little hints throughout the novel come together when everything is spelled out clear as day? Well, this book has one such chapter. Learning all the details of Hailsham (an exclusive, progressive school where clones are raised as "students" before moving on to meet their inevitable fate as carers and donors) and about the clones themselves was cool and all, but it would have been nice if all that information wasn't revealed at once and under such weak pretenses.

Despite the fact that I didn't like Ruth, and I didn't like the cop-out of revealing everything in a single chapter, it does make sense in terms of the structure of the novel and the emotions I'm sure the author was trying to evoke. Throughout most of the first half of the novel, I felt like I wasn't totally sure what was going on even though my brother had told me a lot about the book before I even started reading it. That is, I began reading with full knowledge that the main characters are clones, and that they were made to serve as organ donors. That information isn't explicitly revealed until well into the book, and is only loosely hinted at through terms like "donor," "completed," "carer," etc. None of these things are actually explained while the narrator (Kathy) is telling her story. She narrates as though she's telling the story to a donor, who would presumably be privy to all this information. Also, throughout the story, Kathy constantly says "I don't know how it was where you were, but at Hailsham..." which implies that there was something special about Hailsham. It also implies that there are other places where clones are raised. You don't really find out why exactly Hailsham was so special until the tell-all chapter.

But anyway, this feeling that you, as a reader, are kind of left in the dark, is meant to mirror the way that the "students" are kept in the dark about what they really are and what their futures entail. Their guardians hint at it and the students are left only half aware--as Kathy says at one point, they are "told and not told." The structure of the narrative mirrors this idea, and the sudden revelation comes at the moment when Kathy and Tommy themselves are suddenly made aware of all the unpleasant realities of their existence.

Overall, it's a well written and captivating book. I definitely preferred the second half to the first half, but that's mainly because the second half is when it really starts to get into the nitty gritty of the characters' lives as carers/donors. The first half sort of seems like it's meant as an emotional/psychological precursor...it demands that you view these characters for what they are: humans (here is their childhood, here are their fears and joys and all the little moments that make up a person's memories). And then as they move out of the protective bubble of Hailsham it's like a wave demolishing a sand castle. All that work, those experiences, and they inevitably are torn down and reduced to nothing, because they can't escape their fate. In that way, this book is very depressing and there is something pathetic about the characters and how they try to lead "normal" lives. It's also depressing because it hints at how unethically exploitative people are capable of being...and that only a small minority will care (usually small enough to be stamped out easily enough, as occurs with Hailsham).

Definitely a good read...also amusing because the author lives in London (and the novel takes place in England) so there is lots of fun UK vocab throughout...haha.