Leah Bobet

Matthew lives in a place called Safe, which is an underground haven for all sorts of outcasts from society, whether they’re like Atticus, the founder who has pincers like a crab, or like Ariel, who is hiding some sort of trauma and turns into a bee when she’s afraid. Matthew was born in Safe and has scales and clawed feet. He is also the Storyteller for the community, and memorizes the stories of each person in Safe and how they came from “Above,” a world similar to our own. However, show more Matthew doesn’t know everything about people like Ariel, Atticus, or Corner, the only person ever to be exiled from Safe, for a horrible crime. When tragedy hits Safe itself, Matthew has to protect those in Safe, while trying to find out what really happened to Corner and to Ariel.

First off, I need to admit that this is one of my two favorite debuts this year, and I think it’s completely brilliant. I’ve read a lot of reviews for this, and the one complaint that I’ve seen the most, and completely disagree with, is that it’s confusing to read and illogical. Matthew, the narrator and POV, uses words a little strangely, it is true. But it’s the dialect of Safe, and it is internally consistent and logical throughout the book. Just compare it to The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn: it’s difficult to read and interpret sometimes, but totally worth it, AND much easier than Huck Finn, in my opinion. I loved the language in this, and the way they use words just a little bit differently than us. But the main thing I want to say is that if you can persevere through the difficulty, this book is very, very rewarding. There’s also the “confusion” of one of the character’s gender, but it’s an intended mystery within the story, so you’re supposed to wonder about it, and the answer we are given is perfect for the character and the story.

I really loved all the characters in this. Matthew especially, but Jack Flash, Ariel, Whisper, Corner, and Atticus were so real, so complex, and so interesting that I loved every moment with them, even when they made bad choices, or REALLY bad choices, but especially when they were strong and did the right thing. Corner and Atticus tore my heart into shreds, so there’s also that.

I’m not going to talk too much about the portrayal of mental illness, because I’m not qualified, but I thought it was respectfully done. It shows several different ways of behaving towards people with mental illness, and the characters that have to struggle with it are not defended or blamed at face value, but they are held responsible for their moral choices. There is a lot of fear in this novel, fear of “Them,” of mental illness, of “Above,” of people down below in Safe. All of the characters struggle with it, and some of them overcome it.

My favorite part of the book was the point of view: the choice of which was perfect, Matthew is the perfect person to tell this story. He’s the Storyteller, and while reading his story, we see him making choices on how to present stories, whether it is Jack Flash’s story of his time Above, or the overall story in the novel. We see how other characters perceive, interpret, or tell stories, whether or not they are true. Matthew himself controls much of the truth about the other characters, because he is the keeper of the stories. This makes him very powerful in influencing the choices of others, although not completely responsible, and it’s a very interesting part of the plot of the novel. The past of the characters is very important to the present story—they almost run parallel to each other, with important events in one influencing or reflecting important events in the other. Matthew thinks about this often and learns the importance of getting the past straight so one can deal properly with the present.

(also posted at my blog, bahnree.blogspot.com) show less

Above, by Canadian author Leah Bobet, is a truly well-crafted novel, written by an author clearly comfortable with voice, language and imagery. In this dark, modern fairy tale Bobet writes from a very difficult point of view, yet manages to sustain tension that leaves the reader flayed. Her pace and the emotional impact of that pace is relentless. Not an easy read, not a novel you'd wish to pick up for a quick escape into something creamy, dreamy and fluffy, yet Above is very much worthy of show more your time and attention.

Overall the story deals with the story of Matthew, the story-keeper of a Torontonian underground society, and his tragic love of one of his fellow mutants, Ariel. But to summarize Bobet's tale by calling it a love story is to describe the Mona Lisa as a portrait. Just like the dystopian Toronto she creates, the story has layers upon layers. It is primarily a dark fantasy, yes. But it is also an indictment of barbaric psychiatric practices, of society's inability to deal with the homeless, with the estranged, with the strange. It is a social commentary written with adroitness and insight, and all done with an accomplished story-teller's art.

My only quibble, and it is a middling one, is the classification under which the publisher chose to list the book: young adult. While I can understand the reasoning behind that decision, I also cannot help but feel it was one chosen as an expedience, rather than a true understanding of Bobet's work and its impact. The tale is so dark, and the writing so at the edge of avant guard, that the novel might gain wider and better recognition under an adult classification.

But, as I mentioned, I quibble.

Certainly Bobet's novel is one worth your time. Recommended. show less

The only woman in Captain Stoneburn's company is captured and held prisoner by the powerful Lord Darkdrake, but not necessarily for the reasons that she thinks. I liked a lot of things about this one, the balance of prose and dialogue, the slow parcelling out of relevant details, how well it evoked the tension and claustrophobia of its narrator. But in the intro to the podcast, mention was made of people finding the critical part of the ending too ambiguous, and I have to say I agree. I may show more not have noticed if it hadn't been brought to my attention beforehand, but since it was, I focused on it and therefore didn't find the story entirely satisfying. show less

A post-apocalyptic coming-of-age fantasy novel with a bit of a Little-Town-on-the-Prairie feel about it. It's a story about keeping secrets and coping in the aftermath of traumatic experiences and asking for help. And it's more than a list of themes - it pulls those things together to craft a story that is coherent and thoughtful and gripping.

I found it really hard to put down.

Sixteen year old Hallie and her older sister Marthe are still waiting for Marthe's husband to come home from war, show more and they're struggling to look after their farm - and stay on good terms with each other - without him. Their situation becomes more complicated after Hallie finds a Twisted Thing on her windowsill.

I appreciated the heartbreaking yet believable complexity of Hallie's relationship with Marthe, and the way they struggle with a family legacy of dysfunctional relationships, especially conflict between siblings.
I also really liked Hallie's relationships with her childhood friends, Nat and Tyler Blakely, and the way Hallie and Tyler each other ask "Spite or pride?" when one of them is being stubborn or cross.

"My life has a terrible sense of humour, you know? I was proud of that speech." His cheeks were still ugly crimson. "I practiced it all week long to my bedroom ceiling."
"Did it have any good suggestions?"
"It said to definitely go with the wounded dignity. Very manly, super-tragic. I'm never asking it for anything again." show less