Martha Brockenbrough

The Game of Love and Death enthralled me the first time I read it, and in re-reads, I feel the same way. Martha Brockenbrough does not write a lot of fiction like this – she has a couple historical non-fiction works – and I would love to read another fable like this one. Her writing still strikes me as achingly beautiful, and the story is so unique. It bothers me that so few people are aware of this book, because it’s gorgeous. It’s easy to fall in love with her writing.

If I had to show more condemn one thing, it’s that the middle gets a bit slow. The chapters are short, but as the players are moving into position, there’s a lot of waiting. But it’s still good. I almost don’t mind because her words are like honey and the music and the message outside of the plot is so beautiful. I also really like the formatting of the book – it’s different and nice looking. Plus a tale of polar opposites always gets me.

Really, I can’t emphasize enough how gorgeous this book is. There’s flowery language like in Shatter Me, and then there’s evocative language that summons jazz night clubs and a cigar smoke haze and the slow sway of Chicago summer that are beautiful without trying and just… aaghh. I love it.

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Original Review: 4 Stars (9/8/17)

THIS BOOK IS SO BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN.

Seriously, I think I am in love with it? It’s so flowy and eloquent and the LOVE is beautiful and the DEATH is horrible and seriously Martha Brockenbrough knows her stuff – I’d like more books please. The characters are all REALLY well done. I thought Death was the most sabotaging, frustrating soul, but all characters are well written. Her word choice was gorgeous and I wanted to swoon because even if you don’t like fantasy or love stories you have to read this book just for THE WORDS. It’s so lovely, really, I’m entirely grateful to have read it.

Brockenbrough has a way of eliciting really raw emotions that will tug your heartstrings or ENRAGE YOU TO THE CORE. The story, set in the 1930s, tells the tale of a white boy and a black girl. They’re both hard workers. Henry is driven by his emotions. Flora is driven by rationality. One has been backed by Love, the other by Death. It’s a game to them (thus the title) like Romeo and Juliet or Helen and Paris. Death always wins. The conflict here is not a battle of families or of grecian warships – it’s to choose courage when all the world is against them.

And all the world is against them. Because the 30s were a time of racial turbulence, there’s about 5 people in their entire city that can accept their relationship. Most the city can’t even accept the fact they play music together. While the reactions and the HORRIBLE racism present in this book is likely accurate for the era, IT MADE ME SO MAD.

Please don’t misunderstand. This book is not written in a racist way. It’s written – I thought – with incredible sensitivity. But there are characters who behave deplorably.

And if that wasn’t enough, Death just keeps making a mess of things for each of them.

I WAS HOOKED FROM THE MOMENT I READ THE FIRST PAGE.

I really, really, really liked Henry and Flora. Ethan was wonderful as well, and his subplot of accepting his homosexuality. A lot of it was subtly written – just seeing the characters for who they are rather than shining a spotlight on their sexuality. It was beautifully done.

You really can’t help but root for Henry. He’s so sweet and sacrificing, but in a pure way? Not too sugary, not selfish at all. He has always had the courage to know who he is and what he likes, but he does it in a soft, likable way.

ONE THING: I HATED THE TITLE?

It’s difficult to explain, but I’m going to try. The Game of Love and Death? The title feels really impersonal. Since the book felt incredibly intimate, the title feels awkward on top of that. While the underlying story was about Love and Death and who is stronger and more enduring, I really think that Henry and Flora stole the show. I don’t have a better title suggestion, but “The Game of Love and Death” sort of makes me twitch a little.

This review and more like it can be found on The Literary Phoenix. show less

Romances with angels, seraphim, and a heavenly host of other celestial beings have overpopulated YA fiction so much that, judging the book by its cover, it would be easy to overlook Devine Intervention by Martha Brockenbrough. And what a loss that would be, because this book is wicked funny, with strong characterizations, expressive writing—and surprise, no romance! A quick plot summary: Jerome Hancock is Heidi Devine’s guardian angel, only she doesn’t know that. Heidi thinks Jerome is show more an auditory illusion until the day he accidentally separates her soul from her body while attempting to save her life. Now, Jerome has to find a way to save Heidi’s soul, because thanks to him, Heidi has less than 24 hours before she vaporizes into nonexistence.
Ah, Jerome. Eternally seventeen, he cares deeply for Heidi despite his devil-may-care attitude in the afterlife. His clearly drawn character and charmingly snarky narrative make him easy to like in spite of his poor judgment. Jerome’s creative cursing substitutions alone are reason enough to read the book. Heidi, meanwhile, is an insecure and awkward teenage girl passively living the life others set for her. An obedient daughter, accommodating friend and likeable human under Jerome’s questionable care, Heidi finally learns to trust herself as she frantically races against time in order to say a last goodbye to her family and best friend.
This is an original and clever story that takes the religion out of Heaven and instead, makes it a relatable teen setting, with soul rehab rooms, Guardian Angel handbooks, and classic rock songs sung by the heavenly choir. Amidst the trauma and hilarity of Jerome and Heidi’s predicament is a heartfelt message of love: for our family, our friends, and most importantly, for ourselves. show less

This is an exceptional biographical story of Alexander Hamilton. While it's aimed at teens and young adults, and I haven't fit into those categories for some time, I found myself gripped by the narrative momentum and utterly engrossed in the personal story of this exceptional man. What you realize is that America has always been a fractious land, that disputes between states (should the federal government assume state debts or not?) and between ambitious individuals (Hamilton and Jefferson, show more Hamilton and Burr), has marked and guided its history from the very beginning. And through it all, Brockenbrough tells a deeply personal tale of love, loss, ambition, heartbreak, and sheer luck, that makes the story far more thrilling than your average history. This is a book I savored and will save to read to my kids when they're slightly older. show less

Review courtesy of Dark Faerie Tales

Quick & Dirty: A bittersweet tale of a love that’s doomed.

Opening Sentence: The figure in the fine gray suit materialized in the nursery and stood over the sleeping infant, inhaling the sweet, milky night air.

The Review:

It’s been difficult for me to come across a decent love story these days; either I’m too picky or I’ve set the bar too high with the zillion other fantastic romances I’ve already read. However, The Game of Love and Death was a show more brilliant read! I especially liked how this book explores a forbidden romance, not because of zombies and vampires, but simply because they live in a society where the colour of your skin determines your status. Not only is the concept of inequalities between black and white’s highlighted, we see society’s inability to accept gay romance and the lack of awareness of dyslexia. Things might be a lot different now, but not many years ago these were very real problems and it’s refreshing to see these issues being explored.

Henry shook it. “I won’t, sir. Thank you, sir.” He couldn’t imagine asking Dr. Sloane for help with heartache. Well, you see… there’s this girl who sings in a jazz band and I wanted to be her bass player, but we are the wrong color for each other, and she said no, and it gave me a burned-out hole in the center of my chest that the rest of me is slowly being sucked into.

The story focuses around the two game players: Love and Death. The players are portrayed as complete opposites but note the obvious: the opposite of death isn’t ‘Life’ but ‘Love.’ I think that was a crucial part of the story, because by contrasting love and death, it gave love more importance than life. It might be sexist of me but I expected a woman to represent Love and Death by a man, but again the book throws you with the opposite. This confused me at first, but it worked really well, because it opens the reader’s mind to other concepts.

“I did love her, you know,” he said. “Like breathing, almost.”
The words had space between them, as thought it was costing him the last of his strength to pull them out of his mouth.
“I know. But that’s the thing with love. It isn’t as strong as they say.”

I know I should have hated Death; she was evil, cunning and ruthless. But there were times when I pitied Death. It wasn’t as if Death was a human who chose to be cruel, Death was just that way and I couldn’t help but wonder what caused this? Given the choice, could Death be different?

And weak, it was. As often as not in Death’s vast experience, people preferred the idea of love to the act of it. They wanted to pursue, but grew weary once they’d won the prize. If they were loved, they used it as proof of their worth. In the name of love, they manipulated each other. Out of cowardice, they lied, overtly and by omission. There were so many ways for love to decay. And unlike the decaying of a corpse, which fed worms and grew trees, what did rotting love ever feed?

When you read this book, despite the odds and knowing that Death always wins the game, the reader can’t help but root for love. We all want good to beat evil.

The pawns of the game, Henry and Flora, are the other main characters of the story. Their love story was too sweet and I loved seeing how each ‘move’ by the game player has knock-on effects for the lovers. The story itself is bittersweet in the sense that Henry and Flora are, in a way, fighting the world to prove that the colour of your skin doesn’t matter. Despite the obstacles that come their way, they continue to fight, not only because they love each other, but because they want to play music together. Bringing music into the story made so much sense because it wasn’t solely about love of another person, but love of music and having the right to share that with the world.

“If God didn’t want me to fly,” Flora said, reaching for her coffee, “why on earth would God have made me want to fly so much?”

To conclude, this book was beautifully written and I adored it.

Notable Scene:

“I love you. We are meant to be a pair. It’s that simple.”

The words and the weight behind them weren’t simple. She knew he meant them. But their lives were not their own, not when it came to this. There were too many other people, with too many other thoughts on the matter. There was also the truth of love, that its end was nothing but pain.

“The world is against this sort of thing. Surely you can feel it,” she said.

“If it’s use versus the world, my money’s on us.”

FTC Advisory: Arthur A. Levine Books/Scholastic provided me with a copy of The Game of Love and Death. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review. show less