80 Books No.22: The Adoration of Jenna Fox by Mary E Pearson

This reminded me of a book called Eva which my year 7 English teacher tried to make me read at school. I remember reading maybe 50 pages and then claiming I'd finished it, just to get her off my back. I didn't enjoy the concept: that a girl's brain was transplanted into a chimp's as her parents worked with chimps. It wasn't my thing at age eleven and this probably serves as a timely reminder that I shouldn't try and force my students to read things they hate. Unfortunately this rules out much of the GCSE and A Level syllabus.

However, back on topic, The Adoration of Jenna Fox is a similar idea, albeit without the chimps. Jenna is involved in an horrific accident and is saved only by her father's medical break-throughs. The novel then follows her discovery of what has happened to her with some theological debates over what makes us human and how much medical intervention is too much. Her grandmother brings in a bit of religion, and there's a tiny bit of romance.

The themes surrounding the central plot are vaguely interesting, probably more to other people than to me, but even I was able to rethink some of the issues. I think I'd have engaged even more had Jenna been a more interesting character. Whilst part of her condition is about her finding out how to be 'the New Jenna', she also comes across as completely bland and characterless. The fact that all the characters are very similar in this respect suggests it's a case of poor writing than a clever narrative technique to reflect Jenna's struggle to regain her identity. The characters of Dane and Ethan are prime examples; Ethan was supposed to be some violent criminal but didn't have that in his character, whilst Dane was supposed to be threatening but did nothing.

The title of the novel refers to how Jenna's parents revere her even before the accident and how they'd do anything to make her perfect (something they literally have the opportunity to do after the accident). This is touched upon a few times, mainly with references to Jenna's dancing recitals. I'd have liked to see this expanded upon further, as it would have added extra drama to her attempts to form her own identity. There should have been more focus here, but there were so many plot strands that it lost some of its punch.

This is apparently the first in a series, which, given how this one ends, is rather strange. I'm not sure I'd read any more. It also seems to have had the film rights bought, which may work out quite well; it could be that this is one of those instances (like those mentioned in my review of The Silver Linings Playbook) where the film trumps the novel.

80 Books No.21: Trapped by Michael Northrop

A novel about high school teenagers trapped in their school as the worst snowstorm for <insert amount of years> batters the East Coast of America. This seemed totally up my street and not a little bit topical given not only Hurricane Sandy in the USA but also the crazy weather conditions in the UK this year. I'll admit I was also slightly swayed by the really cool chapter headings which made it seem like more and more of the pages were being covered in snow as the novel went on; I'm a sucker for gimmicky graphics.

On the topic of graphics, I want to make a point about this front cover, because I'm also quite easily swayed by a catchy cover (yes, yes, I know...). Now, based upon this cover, I assumed something off the chain was going to happen in this book, a preconception aided by the concluding statement of the blurb that 'As the days add up, the snow piles higher, and the empty halls grow colder and darker, the mounting pressure forces a devastating decision. . . .' That word, right there: devastating. I was seeing cannibalism, human sacrifices, something completely Lord of the Flies-esque. Not that I even particularly like Lord of the Flies, but I was hoping this might be an updated version that I could get on board with.

Suffice to say, that I didn't get what I was looking for. The novel started out well, much like Michael Grant's Gone did, with tension and reasonably likeable characters. The narrator was engaging enough and so were his friends, and there was a sense of mounting dread as the snow thickened and they became increasingly cut off from civilisation. I did think the author had thought through the idea of them being snowed in, considering the consequences of power failures, frozen pipes and even the sheer weight of snow upon an old roof, so on those counts he should be congratulated.

Unfortunately, on other counts, he lets the reader down in my view. One character is set up as a ticking timebomb, whilst another is the weirdo on campus who is probably more dangerous than that. There's girls to add temptation into everything, and testosterone running wild. More than enough ingredients to justify the bloodstained front cover and description of 'devastating' in my mind. And then... almost nothing happens. It's like Northrop sets all of this up and then sort of bottles it and to add insult to injury, the story just stops and leaves you with no pay off to all of this. It was another frustrating read, really, which could have been so much better.

I wouldn't discount Northrop in the future, but he'd have to do much better than this.

80 Books No.20: True Things About Me by Deborah Kay Davies

Trezza Azzopardi (apparently a novelist - no, I don't know either) is quoted on the front of this novel as claiming this book is 'The Bell Jar for the twenty-first century.' Now, nobody likes a novel about nymphomaniac mental patients more than I do, so this seemed a pretty perfect read, not least due to it being dirt cheap.

'Dirt' is probably a very good word to associate with this novel on reflection, and it makes me such a prude to say it. But this was just so tiresomely filthy, and I've read the entire Fifty Shades trilogy - surely the epitome of tiresome and tedious. The basic premise is, admittedly, pretty daft: ordinary girl has some wild sexual encounter in an underground car park and this bloke then takes over her life. It's unlikely, yes, but could have been quite interesting as a look into mental breakdowns and obsession. I'm not adverse to mental breakdowns and obsession; Wuthering Heights is one of my favourite books.

No, the main problem I had with this novel was that I just didn't believe in the main character. She was the narrator and yet she was so distanced and random that I didn't care what happened to her. The timeline of the plot was all over the place so I had no idea if we were talking days, weeks, months or years, and because of that, her relationship with the Big Bad Man was so difficult to get to grips with. It almost made Christian and Ana's relationship look plausible and believable. Strangely, it was her family and friends who I ended up liking and understanding more, which may have been Davies' purpose in presenting somebody in the middle of a breakdown. However, it was unclear whether she'd entered into this horrible relationship due to having a breakdown or her involvement with the Big Bad Man had led to her breakdown. Maybe, again, this was a deliberate act on the author's part to make it all more truthful to the experience of being mentally ill. Whatever, it made for a frustrating novel, not least because you never even find out the narrator's name, something which drove me insane in  Rebecca.

All in all, not a huge success from my viewpoint.

80 Books No.19: The Silver Linings Playbook by Matthew Quick

Silver Linings Playbook was one of my favourite films from last year and I was so overjoyed when it received so many nominations in the Golden Globes and Oscars. Films I like are never deemed Oscar-worthy, and I never like Oscar-worthy films, so it was a rare treat to actually agree with people who know far more about these things than I do. I was genuinely thrilled when Jennifer Lawrence won Best Actress as her character was phenomenal in the film.

So when I was asked what I wanted for my birthday, I said I wanted to read the original novel. I'd heard it was even better than the film so this review is largely addressing that question, along with the wider question of which is better: the original source or the film?

The novel was an easy enough read, and I would say that if you like The Perks of Being a Wallflower (incidentally, another of my top films from last year), you would likely enjoy this as it was reminiscent of it in many ways. Pat in the novel came across, I would say, as more mentally ill than in the film, but also less dangerous in many ways, and more sympathetic. The novel was less sanitised than the film and less neatly tied up in set-Hollywood pieces, which wasn't altogether a bad thing. I did feel that, had I not seen the film first, Tiffany would not have been anywhere near as endearing, and I largely put that down to Lawrence's performance in the film. The film was also, I felt, better at capturing people's attitudes towards mental illness via Tiffany's sister and Pat's brother, who seemed very vanilla and gentle in the novel. Again, not a bad thing, but a difference.

In terms of the film being better or worse than the novel, it would be hard to say. I know there is a general rule of thumb that the novel is always better than the film, but I would say that holds untrue in several cases to my mind, and I'm not even the most knowledgeable person about films. For instance, I think Stardust makes a far better film than Neil Gaiman's novel, whilst The Devil Wears Prada and Legally Blonde are, frankly, terrible novels, but pretty cool films. Even novels I really like, such as Prince Caspian, have actually been improved when treated for the big screen (a controversial choice, I know, as many people think Prince Caspian is a weak link in the Narnia franchise which is so clearly untrue given the godawful mess that The Voyage of the Dawntreader was - but I digress).

It is probably safest to say that The Silver Linings Playbook, like The Perks of Being a Wallflower, is different in each format. This is a terrible cop-out of a conclusion, much like the 'on reflection, it is amibiguous' I used to shove into my Literature essays at A Level. Yet it is probably the truest thing I can say about this novel, as I found that having seen the film helped to shed light upon aspects of the novel and vice versa. I wouldn't say the novel was a must-read, though, whilst I would say the film was, so perhaps that is a greater indicator of which made the greatest impact upon me.

Or just an indication of how massive my crushes on both Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence are. Cue gratuitous picture.

Farmyard Friday #7: Little Bad-Ass Donkey

It being the Easter season, it seems timely to discuss the humblest of God's creatures. I mean, it's obvious that donkeys are awesome. This could be seen as a mini-Farmyard Friday Fact, as it's plain truth. In some ways, they are like a larger version of a goat, and as has been seen before (Farmyard Fridays Fact #4), goats are phenomenal. On a purely personal note, an actual farmyard populated by goats and donkeys would be a dream come true.

But I digress.

It would be easy to simply regurgitate the fact that donkeys have crosses on their backs, and to cite the suggestion that this is something Jesus gifted to donkeys in thanks for having carried him into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday (not for carrying his mother into Bethlehem when he was born - hang around for the Christmas special of Farmyard Fridays for that gem). This, however, would be lazy and Farmyard Fridays is not lazy.

As we've already seen from previous facts, many farmyard animals are governed by their relationship with predators. Pigs don't need to look up (Farmyard Fridays Fact #1) because their predators don't come from the sky, whilst goats have rectangular pupils (Farmyard Fridays Fact #4) because they need to see all the way around them. Donkeys, too, have predators. Wolves and coyotes are their natural enemies in the wild, and this has been carried over into their domesticated lives, and this natural aversion to canines has been harnessed in a very constructive manner by many farmers.

Whilst donkeys may seem quite mild-mannered, often used as companions to horses as they are much less flighty and more sensible, they do have a violent aggressive side, and this is most often displayed towards dogs. Donkeys can be used to guard flock animals, such as sheep, as they become very attached to their flock and will do anything to protect them from foxes and coyotes. A well-aimed kick from a donkey will kill a man, so dogs and foxes are an easy target for these guys.

You wouldn't really fancy your chances against this dude, would you?

And they don't just stop at foxes, as this link shows http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbPRjZ9nEVo That is one seriously bad ass donkey.

Farmyard Fridays Fact # 7: Donkeys will attack and kill dogs to protect a flock of sheep.

And here are the cute pictures as promised.

I now really really want a donkey.

Sealife Sunday #1: It's actually pretty safe to go back in the water

NB: Farmyard Fridays is on hiatus this week, largely because Bullen was too busy praying for no snow to remember to post a fact. Next week's will therefore be bigger, better and have more cute pictures to make up for this.
NB2: Sealife Sundays may or may not become a regular feature.

This story caught my eye whilst scrolling through the Mail's Sidebar of Shame this week. Journalistically speaking, it's cracking: sharks now apparently have fangs and the pictures do almost nothing to illustrate the article, but it does demonstrate the general opinion of sharks. The comments tend to take the viewpoint that if you get into the water with a shark, you're asking for trouble, and this is something anybody who's seen Jaws probably agrees with. Common sense says that, like putting your head inside a lion's mouth, swimming with sharks is probably not the wisest thing to do.

It is, however, not such a stupid thing to do as all that, at least statistically speaking. Admittedly, the likelihood of bumping into a shark on a regular basis is probably infinitesimal for most people, so the numbers are slightly skewed. Even so, the following facts are interesting. Worldwide, there are less than 20 fatal shark attacks a year. This becomes even more interesting when you learn that every year, 100 deaths are caused by wasps, 150 by falling coconuts and 600-700 by both toasters and chairs. People who worry about sharks in the water should instead worry about the water itself: you are 1000 times more likely to die from drowning than from a shark attack.

Yes, in an average day, you are more likely to come across a chair or toaster, and most accidents do take place in the home. Still, it does make you rethink the image you carry in your head of a shark - and see coconuts in a very different light.

Sealife Sunday Fact #1: Sharks are statistically less dangerous than wasps, coconuts, toasters and chairs.

Oz the Great and Powerful

I’ve always quite enjoyed The Wizard of Oz as it’s frankly an amazing feat of cinema given that it came out in 1939 – the switch from black and white to Technicolor is still magical. And the 1985 Return to Oz is another treat, in another whole way: the scariest kids’ film I have ever seen! I’ve also read Gregory MacGuire’s Wicked out of curiosity to see what all the hype was about, although it didn’t persuade me to go and see the musical.

Despite all of this, I’ve never really counted myself as an Oz fan; I’m more of a Narnia girl in general. Still, Oz the Great and Powerful has been on my ‘want to see list’ for 2013 since I heard it was coming out, and whilst I’ve been feeling pretty rundown and tired, I still wanted to see it.

A basic run down of the plot is that it explains how the Wizard came to Oz, and how the witch became wicked. Admittedly the latter part of that plot was a little tenuous and left unresolved in my mind. James Franco plays the Wizard (or Oz as he was actually known) and I spent a lot of the film wondering what else I’d seen him in. I’m still none the wiser, as having Googled it, the only thing he’s credited as being in that I’ve seen was the godawful Pineapple Express, and I’ve blocked that from my memory. The various witches of Oz are played by Rachel Weisz, Mila Kunis and Michelle Williams.

First off, I really enjoyed it. I liked the plot and it was vaguely humorous. I’m sure I’ll be struck down by somebody for saying it was a more likeable plot than Wicked as I found that just too clever-clever. I liked that things weren’t overplayed, like the encounter with the lion, and that some things about the 1939 film are directly referenced.  Franco was alright and I thought Michelle Williams was a perfect Glinda. Also, the use of 3D in the opening credits was frankly the best use of 3D I’ve ever seen; the rest of the film used it pretty much as pointlessly as any other film I’ve ever seen, but the depth on the credits was amazing.

Rachel Weisz was, for me, underused, as her part was very small in the grand scheme of things. Her character wasn’t really developed in the same way that Mila Kunis’s was. However, on the subject of Kunis, I felt she was a little miscast. For me, she’s best when she can be slightly comedic (really good in Friends with Benefits and the best thing about Ted), and her role didn’t allow her to be. She’s too light and fluffy for the frankly iconic role she was given.

Visually, the film was lovely (and how epic is the poster above?!), although I will admit that I’m becoming saddened by the overreliance of film upon CGI so that lavish sets are no longer built. Yes, the Emerald City here was amazing, but look at what Victor Fleming achieved in the Judy Garland classic without any computer effects at all. I liked the addition of China Town, even if the China Girl initially freaked me out. The monkey I could take or leave in all honesty.

This was quite a dark film so I’m surprised it was only rated a PG – definitely some scary moments for children. Actually, scratch that; some scary moments for me.

For me, though, definitely Sam Raimi’s best film.

80 Books No.18: When Good Friends Go Bad by Ellie Campbell

Like I said when I reviewed Lizzy Harrison Loses Control, chick-lit and I stopped being easy bedfellows a few years back, and this title is a bit off-the-wall cheesy. Still, like many of my recent reads, this only cost me £2 brand new, so it was worth a gamble. At the very least I knew it would be easy to read.

Basic premise: 4 girls are school friends, then they drift apart (the 'childish prank' that goes wrong described in the blurb is way more boring than I expected in light of having read Torn). They have a brief reunion and then split their ways again, more distant than ever, until somebody gets back in touch. Admittedly this to-ing and fro-ing is not normal chick-lit stuff. The complete lack of drama, at least 'on stage', is, until the last fifty pages, incredibly unusual. Yes, there are affairs and divorces and fights, but it all seems to have happened before the story started. Then when there's a big showdown in the last few pages, it all seems very pantomime. Weird.

Character-wise, there's a big effort made to make the four women very different. Jen seems to be the main protagonist as it's from her perspective most of the novel is told from. She's likeable enough, if a bit of a wet lettuce, and her relationship with her daughter is virtually non-existant. Meg's relationship with her son is more believable and she is a bit more of an interesting character, although her storyline is odd. Georgina is again perhaps more believable if erratic. Rowan... well, you hardly see enough of her to get much of a sense of her and the story is never seen from her viewpoint.

With regard to the men involved, I'm not sure if we're supposed to be attracted to all of them. From my viewpoint, Jen's (ex) husband Ollie is the only one worth any time whatsoever: Aiden and Tom gave off vibes of being weird way before they were revealed to be. This makes the ending a strange mixture of pleasing, predictable and completely random. Not as random as Jen's final pages confession of her traumatic teenage past, but still quite convenient. The novel is tied up surprisingly quickly, as if the authors wanted it finished.

Yes, authors. Ellie Campbell is apparently a pseudonym for Pam Burks and Lorraine Campbell, sisters who write novels together. There is nothing especially interesting about this, although it is unusual, but it was very confusing when reading the acknowledgements as they referred to 'we' and 'our' throughout - even mentioning two husbands! Why go to the effort of pretending to be one person if you're going to give up in the dying pages?

Final summing up: a reasonable enough way to spend some time, won't set the world on fire, try not to laugh at the ending.

PS: I'm glad they did choose the name Ellie Campbell, though, as it means it's totally legitimate to post this video. Classic tune.

80 Books No.17: My Dearest Jonah by Matthew Crow

On the surface of this, I was super jealous. Matthew Crow is the same age as me and is already onto his second published novel. I almost put it down out of a fit of temper and 'it-should-have-been-me'ness. This, however, would have been massively hypocritical of me, as I've not even finished the novel I started as part of my dissertation in 2007, so I can hardly complain when other 26-year-olds achieve more in their writing than I do.

So I put aside my jealousy and read the blurb and thought I'd quite enjoy it. It seemed the sort of slightly-quirky book I'd like, plus it only cost me £2, so what was to be lost?

The basic storyline is that Verity and Jonah get put in touch with each other via a pen-pal scheme. Jonah has been released from prison after a long incarceration, although their 'relationship' began before he was released. The story starts smack bang in the middle of their story, which is rather confusing although engaging. Over the course of the novel, they write letters to each other, detailing their increasingly bizarre lives.

I say increasingly bizarre, but perhaps that only truly applies to Verity. Jonah's story, of his past criminal allies catching up with him again, is certainly the stuff of Hollywood films and, just perhaps, a believable thing that might happen. Verity's story is something else, packed full of coincidences. It isn't completely clear how exactly Verity ends up in the situations she does, whereas Jonah's circumstances at least seem explained by his history.

Their letters are long, and filled with self-indulgent flights of fancy. If Crow was aiming for these to come across as believable epistles, he completely fails: no one writes like this in real life. The most glaring thing to me was how neither of them really acknowledged the other's letter in much detail, beyond telling each other to 'be careful'. Instead, they went on narrating their lives in a way which would have fit much better in a straightforward first person narration. Indeed, why Crow felt the need to shoehorn two such diverging stories together when they almost never intersect is a little confusing. The letter device seemed largely superfluous and did not really help to tell the story in the way that the emails did in Dear Dylan.

There were beautiful passages of writing, which makes me wonder if Crow's debut novel, Ashes, is worth a read. I much preferred Jonah's narration, at least until the final pages, partially because I found Verity such a helpless drip. Towards the end, there was a suggestion that all that we had read was not perhaps true, and I wish this theme had been explored more because it's such an interesting concept: how much we actually present the truth about ourselves, and how much we paint a very different picture. This was probably left deliberately ambiguous, and maybe a re-read would reveal more of this theme, but on first glance, it's not especially well embedded.

The thing which wound me up the most, however, was the proliference of punctuation errors and typos throughout the book. This is published by an independent publisher, Legend Press, who seem to be an up and coming enterprise. Perhaps their small size can be blamed for these errors, but even so, it's sloppy proof-reading and copy-writing. If they want somebody to do it for them, I could be their girl!

I'm probably in a minority as this book was shortlisted for the 2012 Dylan Thomas Prize and people who know a lot more than I do about literature seemed to love it. As I say, it was generally well written and the story was quite engaging, but the structure of it seemed superfluous. I might try Ashes in the future.

26 years of Bullen

On the occasion of my 26th birthday, a bit of a different blog post. Not about farm animals or random books, but a bit of a list to say what I'm grateful for in my life. It's so easy to be negative and say what you don't have but something quite different to recognise what is good. So here's 26 things I'm grateful for in my life (in no particular order!)
 

1.    My parents

2.    My nieces

3.    My brother and sister in-law

4.    Friends who are always up for watching crap TV!

5.    Awesome work colleagues

6.    A job I love

7.    Nice students

8.    No debt

9.    Good health

10. Confidence

11. My brilliant car

12.  Cake

13. Velcro rollers

14. The ability to read

15. Doctor Who

16. Living in a country which never gets too hot or too cold

17. Disposable income

18. Very few real responsibilities

19. Funny nights out

20. Walt Disney

21. Holidays

22. Black tights and leggings

23. Daniel Craig and David Tennant

24. Generally being able to eat what I like without ballooning to the size of Godzilla (a tentative one – being nearer to 50 than birth is frightening)

25. Cheesy 90s music (i.e. The Big Reunion)

26. Angst ridden musicals

Farmyard Fridays #6: Run Rabbit Run

Farmyard Fridays could not resist the opportunity to tie a fact into recent events surrounding the election of a new Pope. Given that Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio has chosen to become Francis I after Francis of Assisi, it seems only fair that this week’s offering in some way references the patron saint of animals. Additionally, it’s almost Easter and I like MaltEaster bunnies, so this is kind of a tribute to them as well.

A famous story about Francis of Assisi explains how he released a rabbit which had been caught in a trap. Having advised it to be more careful in future, he let the animal go – only for it to turn around and come back to him. Even when Francis took the rabbit into the woods, it clung to him and wanted to stay with him. Only when a fellow friar took the rabbit far into the woods did the rabbit understand that it was to live in the wild instead. This is one instance cited as to how animals loved Francis of Assisi, the implication being that the rabbit felt safe with him and was scared to leave.

Which is only understandable when you learn a little about rabbits as they have a lot to be scared of. Reading a list of natural predators of rabbits is a bit like reading a who’s who of the animal kingdom. It seems wherever rabbits are, they have a whole host of enemies just waiting for some rabbit stew. To name just a few of poor Bugs’ worst nightmares, you have cats, dogs, lions, lynx, mountain lions, bobcats, tigers wolves, foxes, coyotes, hawks, eagles, falcons, kestrels, stoats, mink, ferrets, wolverines, badgers, bears, racoons and snakes. And that’s without mentioning humans at all. So it’s no real wonder that the rabbit seemed to prefer staying with Francis than chancing his luck in the big wide world.

There is another level of fear for the rabbit though. Those of a certain age will remember the children’s television show The Animals of Farthing Wood, and how Rabbit had a set of neuroses which would keep a psychiatrist busy for a very long time. Whenever he was faced with anything slightly scary, he’d faint and need to be brought around by his long-suffering wife. I always assumed this was a little quirk introduced by the writers in order to differentiate between the many small burrowing creatures on the programme.

But on further investigation it appears that, for all the masochistic tendencies of those writers, this was actually a rare case of them sparing small children a terrible teatime nightmare. For if they had been biologically accurate, Rabbit would never have woken up from his fits of unconsciousness. Rabbits can actually be scared to death. This is probably no surprise to many still suffering the scars of their beloved childhood bunny dropping dead for seemingly no reason, but it also seems quite a design flaw in the animal itself; you’d think evolution would have removed those particular genes from the pool long ago.

Still, from my viewpoint, I’m glad Darwin’s theory doesn’t seem to have held true on this occasion, because rabbits are cute. However, their being cute is not this week’s Farmyard Friday fact.

Farmyard Friday Fact #6: Rabbits can be literally scared to death.

On a more cheerful note, look at these cute pictures.

80 Books No.16: Saving Daisy by Phil Earle

This was one of those books that turned out to be something a little different from what I expected. From the blurb I could guess it would be depressing, but I didn’t expect it to be quite as dark as it was. I expected some character deaths, probably some self-harm and some police involvement, all of which I got, but then it took a slightly different turn and became something else.

Daisy comes across as a reasonably believable teenager, although it isn’t one-hundred per cent clear where her ridiculously low self-confidence initially comes from. We’re told that her mother died, and whilst Daisy blames herself due to a medical report she found and read, it later becomes clear that she died during childbirth, so Daisy’s involvement is lessened somewhat. Her father doesn’t like to talk about her and so Daisy goes looking for evidence (hence finding the report), but apart from this, her father seems lovely – they have cosy father-daughter film nights and he does nice things for her birthday. Whilst growing up without a mother and hearing little about her may have affected Daisy a little, it seems unlikely that she’d have got through to the age of fourteen having made no friends, and her lack of comrades at school or indeed anywhere in the novel stands out as something a little strange. Daisy’s ability to blend in with everybody around her and go under the radar is detailed early on, but her complete isolation is something which is never resolved, leaving me, for one, wanting to know what happened next.

Earle has some experience of working with teenagers like Daisy so I shouldn’t really presume to criticise his portrayal as he likely knows way more than me. What did come across in the novel was a sense of logic in the way Daisy behaves, the reasons why she does what she does and how she always comes to the conclusion that things are her fault. The input of Ade in rewiring how Daisy thinks was a good insight into the workings of this kind of therapy. Earle has also provided himself with a range of characters he could explore in subsequent books if wanted; I believe Daisy is a character in his previous novel Being Billy and so he could repeat this here with any of the other teenagers from the care home Daisy finds herself in.

This was not as dark as Torn but nor was it a book which I’d ever find myself re-reading or spending much time thinking about. It was an okay read but not revolutionary.

80 Books No.15: Dear Dylan by Siobhan Curham

My recent books have been a bit hard going and heavy on the teenage death. Upon rifling through the books I’ve bought recently, they all looked a bit hard going and heavy on the teenage death. Dear Dylan was therefore my attempt to find something a little more cheerful and uplifting, and the cover certainly seemed to promise something less disturbing.

You know that old phrase ‘never judge a book by its cover’? Well… yeah…

That is a little unfair of me, as I did enjoy this novel, and the main character Georgie was lively and fun. The e-mail format of the story was fun and different. The concept itself was a little far-fetched: Georgie starts e-mailing Dylan, her favourite soap star, via his website and is initially convinced that the automatic replies come directly from him. This I am unconvinced about; most fourteen-year-olds have a little more internet-savvy than this. However, later she begins getting personalised replies from ‘Dylan’, who actually turns out to be somebody completely different. Georgie’s initial rejection of this person, followed by the frankly delightful friendship between them was a joy to read.

The novel dealt with heavier themes than I expected, including drugs, step-families and domestic violence. In this respect, it didn’t quite match up to the cover and my hopes for a fluffy trivial read. However, it never became too overbearing and stifling, showing that Siobhan Curham has a real talent for writing about some quite difficult issues for teenagers in a way which isn’t going to completely traumatise them. Georgie’s little sister Michaela was a particular treat. I also really liked how it was obvious to the reader that Georgie’s friendships were more toxic than she perceived them, something her ‘e-mate’ was able to pick up on immediately. This reminded me of how easy it is for somebody older and wiser to make objective observations about teenagers lives, but how confusing it can be to the young person at the centre of it all.

What was uplifting about this novel was the ending where, for once, things turned out well for the main character, which was a nice break from the ambiguously depressing endings of Black Rabbit Summer and Torn. I’m almost certain my next choice of book is going to plunge me back into the depths of despair, so I’m thankful to Siobhan Curham, and Georgie, for a brief respite!

80 Books No.14: Torn by Cat Clarke

My choices of books and television programmes recently are starting to make me wonder about my mental state. On the same evening I finished reading this book, I watched a documentary about Fred and Rosemary West and said I’d quite like the box set of Pretty Little Liars for my birthday. It’s probably no surprise I had some really quite dark and frightening dreams off the back of finishing Torn. It, like Thirteen Reasons Why, is a book that many adults would think perhaps too disturbing for its teenage audience.

As I mentioned at the end of my last post, Torn and Black Rabbit Summer share some similar themes: growing up, first love, family relationships and death. Somehow, though, I found Torn so much more disturbing and unsettling, and I’m trying to work out exactly why.

The premise of the book is that Alice, the narrator, goes on a school trip with her best friend. They end up sharing a cabin with two girls they don’t know very well, and one girl they know all too well: the Queen Bee/Bitch of the school, and Alice’s former best friend. A series of events leads to one of their cabin mates being humiliated at the Queen Bee’s hands, and they devise a plan to pay her back. The plan, however, culminates in a horrendous tragedy, and the four girls return to school determined to keep their secret.

Ultimately, of course, things get beyond their control and their secret is in danger of being exposed. Alice doesn’t make it any easier for anybody by falling in love with the Queen Bee’s brother. The scene where he discovered the truth behind the lies was, for me, the weak link in the book which is a shame as it was the climax of the entire novel. Jack’s reactions didn’t seem realistic – but then I suppose I have no real standard to measure them against! In contrast, the final moments of the novel where Alice finally tells her father the truth were heart-breaking. Her comments as she steeled herself to speak over how differently the evening could have gone if she just kept her mouth shut were so sadly mundane and true: her dad would watch Match of the Day, she’d go to bed. The love between father and daughter were what really made this novel for me, only marginally damaged by the seemingly pointless subplot of the father’s love life.

This could be seen as a sort of modern day, female Lord of the Flies, and perhaps this is where the disturbing element arrives in. Whilst Golding’s classic did haunt me when I read it two years ago, it also bored me to some extent as I just couldn’t see the events happening in real life. With Torn, the events were brought scarily close to home: these girls text and wear skinny jeans and consider throwing memorial dances as a suitable way to grieve for dead classmates. It’s all so typically twenty-first century teenager that it’s terrifying. This could happen.

Maybe what makes this most disturbing though is the fact that it’s girls who are involved. It’s no surprise to me that girls can be ten times more poisonous than boys, yet to go to the lengths detailed in this novel is still perhaps a step beyond what I can quite cope with. When Piggy is murdered in Lord of the Flies it is blood-thirsty and upsetting, and yet somehow almost understandable, as boys are traditionally seen to be more physical. Girls can be bitchy and nasty and cruel; this is something else, and yet at the same time, so believable that it sends shivers down my spine.

Without a doubt, Black Rabbit Summer was better written and I’d read something else by Kevin Brooks in the future. I’m less convinced by Cat Clarke’s writing, but in terms of her plot and thought processes, Torn is a book which will stay with me for longer than many others. Truly a reminder that the female of the species can be more deadly than the male.

Farmyard Fridays #5: Drink Pony Drink

Horses have been getting some mixed press recently. The general public have gone all Daily Mail about the issue of secret horse meat in ready meals, whilst a dancing Shetland pony has become an internet sensation. Meanwhile, the media has taken more interest in Kauto Star's retirement plans than the Pope's. It's all a bit unclear whether we should be disgusted by horses or add them on Facebook.

DancePonyDance shows a Shetland pony with an immense amount of confidence moonwalking his way around a field to Fleetwood Mac's 'Everywhere' (tune). This one's not waiting for somebody else to make a fool of themselves on the dancefloor first, or lurking uneasily at the edges of the herd hoping nobody notices him. Nope, this pony is living in the moment.

For most people, this kind of confidence would require industrial quantities of vodka-Redbull. Perhaps, you suggest, Socks (for apparently this is his name) is indeed high on more than the joys of living on a cliff top farm. Farmyard Fridays, however, would suggest otherwise, as drinking substantial amounts of alcohol usually only leads to one thing. A thing horses are not actually capable of.

Unlike humans, horses have a very tight band of muscle around their oesophogus which only allows material to pass one way, from mouth to stomach. Therefore, anything which causes the horse any stomach problems (like too many Jagerbombs) can quickly become problematic. This is why horses are particularly prone to colic. Should any damage to their nervous system occur, the tight muscle can fail to close and horses may then 'vomit' out of their nose or inhale the material and cause themselves pneumonia. Which really would make them feel a little bit hoarse...

So extra kudos to Socks, the potentially stone cold sober moonwalking pony.

Farmyard Fact #5: Horses can't vomit.

That's why this fellow is looking so miserable after a heavy night out; he can't even go for a cheeky TC.

80 Books No. 13: Black Rabbit Summer by Kevin Brooks

I’ve been bumping into this book for years and have been thinking I should read it. The cover and the title interested me and looked like exactly the kind of thing I like in a teenage book. When I bumped into it again in the library, I figured I might as well get it out this time.

And in it I found a story I thoroughly enjoyed. So much so that I started reading it at about 2.30pm on Sunday and finished it about 11.30pm that night. Definitely one good way of getting to eighty books in a year and it was partially because I had a surprisingly free Sunday, but it was also the kind of book I could hardly put down. The story was intriguing: what exactly happened at the fairground the night Pete and his old friends go there? I liked the way coincidences sometimes turned out to be coincidences and sometimes something more – usually completely the other way round to how I expected. The character of Raymond was very well drawn in my opinion and the unreliable nature of Pete’s account made for interesting reading.

There was a convenience about the plot which in retrospect was a little daft – the actual solution to the mystery was a little trite, and the untied up ends were a little frustrating. However, they added some veracity to the tale, as loose ends are never all tied up in real life; in this respect I noted a similarity to Kate Atkinson’s Brodie Jackson books which I didn’t fully enjoy when I read them. However, none of this bothered me as I read the book and I’m probably being picky here.

The one thing I probably would alter about the book even as I was reading it was something that drew me towards the novel in the first place: the title. Perhaps part of my interest in the title was that When God was a Rabbit by Sarah Winman is one of my favourite novels of recent years – and I’ve always liked rabbits. There was a similar connection between the rabbit and people in this novel, but the impact of Black Rabbit upon the plot was a little thin, and the whole notion of it being ‘Black Rabbit Summer’ was a little negated by the fact that the events of the novel took about four days to happen.

Still, I’m, as I said, largely being picky, because I really enjoyed this for what it was at the time. My next read is slightly similar in nature and I’ll compare the two when I get to finishing it.

80 Books No.12: Lizzy Harrison Loses Control by Pippa Wright

 

I used to really like chick-lit and read loads of it when I was younger. I’ve read all of Marian Keyes’ books with the exception of her most recent novel, many of Cathy Kelly’s and several of Sophie Kinsella’s. They’re easy reads and generally have a reasonably likeable character and a happy ending (I always feel cheated if it doesn’t).

Then a few dodgy ones put me off and I stopped reading them. It wasn’t really an active ‘I must not read chick-lit’ decision, more that their storylines didn’t really appeal anymore and I preferred other genres. Every so often, though, I’ll come across one which I stick with beyond the initial ‘ditzy girl breaks her heel’ opening chapter.

This book is not going to win any awards or be on a ‘top five books to read this year’ list. Whilst it starts out by making the reader fully away that Lizzy Harrison is not your typical chick-lit heroine, the storyline is pure rom-com and, for anybody who has had even a fleeting fling with a Richard Curtis film, entirely predictable. If you don’t spot who Lizzy is destined to be with upon his first arrival in the novel, you haven’t spent enough time reading Jane Austen. Even so, the characters were some of the more appealing ones I’ve come across recently and it was an easy read, which is always a help when you’re trying to read more than one book a week for a year.

This is a largely uninspiring review, I know, mainly because the best adjective I can come up with for the novel is ‘nice’ which is never really a good thing. Still, it’s better than ‘boring’ or ‘badly written’, both of which could apply to the book I discarded in favour of this (Divine by Mistake by PC Cast). So really this is quite a favourable review.

I’m still waiting for a realistic chick-lit novel about a teacher though.

80 Books No. 11: Iqbal by Francesco D’Adamo

 

I teach English and I love books. A surprising amount of the time, however, I teach books I have dubious feelings towards. If any of my colleagues read this, they may or may not be surprised to know that:

 

- I tolerate Holes by Louis Sachar because the kids enjoy it.

- I find Private Peaceful by Michael Morpurgo really slow and only really enjoy the war bits at the end. The whole drama with the dog in the middle makes me switch off.

- Our Day Out by Willy Russell is fun to read but I can never think of anything to actually do with it in class.

- Stone Cold by Robert Swindells I actually quite enjoy.

- The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas by John Boyne is okay, even if it does use up all of your oxygen supplies if you try and read it aloud because the sentences are so long.

In reality, if I had to read any of the books I teach out of choice, I’d limit myself to reading The Great Gatsby and Of Mice and Men, and possibly go and see Journey’s End. Apart from that, they don’t exactly set my heart alight.

So I was probably the wrong choice to sample Iqbal from any perspective, but I gave it a go. It’s based on the real life story of Iqbal Masih, a boy who escaped from a life of child labour in Pakistan in the 90s and worked to help liberate others from similar lives. Narrated by a fictional character, it details how he helped lead others to freedom.

The positives of the book are that it is reasonably short, an easy read, widens your horizons to other cultures and has a very good scheme of work on the Oxford University Press website. This in itself is a god’s send because else I’d be in the same position as with Our Day Out.

The negatives for me were that I just didn’t care what happened to any of the characters, and that in itself is a terrible thing to admit; these were real people or at least based upon real people, and yet I was turning pages with little to no emotional connection. I feel more for Bruno in The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas and I mostly think of him as an idiot. Iqbal, in this book, irritated me intensely and I felt slightly guilty about that. Perhaps it was this which made me dislike the book so much: I don’t like books which make me feel guilty for something which isn’t my fault, namely, the writer’s inability to make me connect with a character.

Because of the scheme of work, this is still a possibility to be taught. Maybe I need to read it a couple more times and really study it to appreciate it. Maybe if I enjoy teaching it my opinion will change.

Or maybe I just need to realise it’s not aimed at me anyway.

 

Farmyard Fridays #4: The goats knew you were trouble

It seems goats are the animals of the moment, particularly when placed alongside Taylor Swift or Miley Cyrus in a youtube cut of a music video. Whilst Farmyard Fridays hates to jump on a bandwagon, I’ve always liked goats ever since inventing the Goat Appreciation Society to help pad out a mock CV at school. This is mainly because of the simple fact that goats are awesome, something newcomers to the caprine world (that’s a fact for free: goats are described as caprine) will probably largely fail to recognise.

There are many many facts about goats which are frankly fascinating and there may be many a Farmyard Friday about them. Farmyard Friday Fact #4, however, is especially illuminating.

Many people say goats have evil eyes, but whilst this is not only caprinist, it is also likely based upon a lack of understanding of what is precisely so amazing about goats’ eyes. Perhaps this picture will illustrate.

 

Goats, unlike humans, have rectangular pupils. This seems completely alien to us: how often in nature do you see something this particular shape? It can make goats look quite beady-eyed and strange, and everybody knows how what we don’t understand can seem frightening. But there is a perfectly brilliant reason for this, and, like pigs not being able to look up (Farmyard Fridays Fact #1), it’s based upon the relative need for goats to see their predators.

Goats are a sub-section of the antelope family, and like antelopes, would once have been prey to carnivorous mammals such as wolves and coyotes. Indeed, in certain places in the world, domestic goats are still pursued by these predators. Therefore goats need to be able to see all around them with as much ease as possible. The rectangular pupils allow 320-340 degree vision – almost an entire circle. Additionally, the pupils can contract to a far smaller size during the day due to this shape, and so therefore can dilate much further at night, allowing for extremely accurate night vision. Both these factors allow goats to detect predators more than an animal with round pupils.

This is purely one thing which makes goats awesome; Farmyard Fridays will return to this humble creature one day in the future.

But for now this is Farmyard Fridays Fact #4: Goats have rectangular pupils.

This excellent vision fully allows goats to know you were trouble when you walked in.