Review: The Subtle Knife

The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Given the way the story is structured here- basically setting up for Amber Spyglass without resolving much of its own plotlines- this is going to be less a review of this as a standalone work (unlike Golden Compass, which stands out a lot better in comparison) and more a (somewhat long) commentary on the series up until this point. I don't really feel like getting into the whole debate over whether or not it's better to review a series like this as a whole over each title individually; I just felt like logging this now before I go and read the last book anyway because I think that it's still valid to comment on how a series progresses while in the midst of it, especially after covering a good chunk of it.

(...that said, I have to admit that even I am getting tired of these trilogy+ sized series that start out with a solid standalone title followed by sequels that basically force you to keep reading books 3+ for any equivalent level of payoff. I would love to read a series whose immediate sequel stands alone just as well or better than its predecessor for once.)

Anyway, I really like a lot of the concepts and ideas I've seen so far here (daemons, dust, spectres, angels, the innocence of youth vs. adulthood, the treatment of other worlds, etc.), some of which was responsible for making Golden Compass/Northern Lights so exciting and thrilling to dive into in the first place. There is so much potential for interesting world-building here, which ought to be a plus for anyone who's a fantasy fan, and the connections back to Paradise Lost just enhance that further while inviting us to think more deeply about the story and overall themes of this work.

The only problem is... I can't really tell how deeply I'm supposed to be thinking in the first place. Or at least, just going off what's been presented so far, two-thirds of the way into this series.

This isn't an unprecedented issue, to be honest (I think it's relevant to a lot of sci-fi/fantasy series given the nature of the genre). But it's particularly notable here because of the fact that this series specifically invokes Paradise Lost, both in its title and in its overarching plot. You don't just casually name-drop one of the most important works in all of English literature like that without having some high-minded goals in mind- unless you want to come off as shallow and pretentious, that is. Milton himself had extremely lofty ambitions when he started composing his work, many of which he arguably achieved (although perhaps not in the manner he intended, which is a whole other story), and to try to follow in those footsteps is incredibly daunting for any author, let alone a children's one.

Unfortunately, for all of the concepts and ideas presented in the series up until this point... not a whole lot of it feels really explored here yet, two-thirds of the way in. And I blame a lot of it on the structure of this follow-up work. Golden Compass left off at a point where we were just starting to see the connections to PL become realized, and Lyra starting to come into her own sense of maturity, which allegedly is supposed to encompass one of the major themes of this series. And then Subtle Knife came and forced us to start the whole development process over again with a new, unfamiliar protagonist (Will) who more-or-less hijacked Lyra's storyline (I mean honestly, what did Lyra really do or accomplish in this book? why is she even here?), with further diversions into other character POVs (Serafina Pekkala, Lee Scoresby, other witches whose names I forget) that tended to distract more with action and excitement than progress the themes of the series in any meaningful direction.

What's even more confusing here is, I actually don't get a sense of pretension from reading this series, even though you would expect something as much from a work that's reaching for such greater purpose with little payback so far. For what it's worth, this book is pretty enthralling to read (or at least it was for me), and it does a good job of setting up its universe in a way that leaves you just wondering about everything in it. I want to know what Asriel's beef with the Authority is and how he got into the position he's in now; I want to know where the spectres came from and what they have to do with the multiverse; I want to know why Dust is so important and how the angels we see are connected to it; I want to know what really makes children so special in this universe; and I want to know how all of these things tie into all of the big ideas that Pullman is going for, and what that has to do with the series title ("His Dark Materials") itself.

To me, the fact that I can still wonder and be asking all of these questions based on what's already been written suggests that Pullman himself has already contemplated these issues before. After all, he's the one directing the story here. And if you bother to read any articles or interviews about Pullman or His Dark Materials itself, it's easy to see that there is some kind of fleshed-out ideological foundation underpinning his work that merits discussion and that it's not all just shallow name-dropping (see infamous quotes like: "Blake said Milton was a true poet and of the Devil's party without knowing it. I [Pullman] am of the Devil's party and know it.").

It's just unfortunate (or else a bit annoying) that at the end of the day, the big ideas here feel obscured by more basic issues of plot structure/composition and progression. Granted, this is a kid's series and all, but it still feels relevant to comment on these things given that there's only one book left to go, and therefore a lot of ground to still cover if Pullman hopes to meet whatever aspirations he's set up until this point. And I see a real risk in a situation like this of the author going too far or overboard in trying to meet all of his goals for this series and thereby turning its resolution into some kind of a preachy sermon on the virtues of rejecting organized religion or whatever, all while forgetting that it's also supposed to be a fantasy at the end of the day- in other words, the complete opposite of the problem that this book had.

Review: Wuthering Heights

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I can see why people hate on this book, especially if they had to read it for school. Most of the characters are either horrible people or annoying at best (lol Nelly), although for quite intentional reasons. The driving force or motivation behind the story is basically an unhealthy relationship between two unlikeable people, and so much time and potential are seemingly wasted as a result of a situation that could've EASILY been avoided if the characters weren't so idiotic and hot-headed. If you're the kind of person who finds it difficult to avoid trying to solve people's problems, I would recommend avoiding this book as such.

That said, I still found it fairly entertaining to read. I've discovered that I have a bit of a thing for 19th-century gothic works, and the atmosphere in this one is super-charged with that in all of its gloom and doom and hints of the supernatural and just pure emotional angst and ugh, I just love it haha. There are some intense scenes here, and one moment in particular that is uncomfortable/taboo even by today's standards, which knocks it up a peg in my book, perhaps compared to say, The Scarlet Letter (all that fuss over something most people wouldn't care about as much today). And there's something to be said about using literature to more fully observe and understand unlikeable people and their circumstances without actually having to deal with them in real life.

When it came down it, there were elements of Catherine and Heathcliff's ultimately unsatisfying relationship that I resonated with, surprisingly. That sense of taking another person you love completely for granted, to the point where you eventually fail to see them for who they really are anymore. How easy it is to become so consumed by disappointment and regret over words left unsaid, actions left undone, for years after the fact, for being "too late." How bitterness and resentment can affect the people around you, and within a family, can have destructive consequences that propagate to the next generation onwards. A lot of these are very real to the human experience, and I think Bronte does a good job of capturing those sentiments in the world she's created.

Basically, if you're willing to give it a chance and have an open mind, it's not all that bad. There are definitely some interesting lessons and thoughts you can take away from an experience in the Heights. But if you're currently looking for a book to escape with or characters to like and root for (which are perfectly good reasons for reading by the way), don't bother with this one... unless you somehow also get a kick out of confronting the worst of what humanity has to offer (by stuffy 19th-century standards anyway).

Review: Jane Eyre

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Ah, Jane Eyre! I feel like I’m years behind friends who’ve read this book (all of them female, which is unusual because I can at least think of male friends who’ve read Austen). Part of me wishes I’d been forced to read this earlier for school or something, as I think I'd actually have liked to study this in an academic context… But this'll have to do.

Jane Eyre is notable in part for being one of the first proto-feminist (as in, before feminism actually became a thing) books… as well as an ancestor of a tradition of novels focusing on the interior/private consciousness, from which came the likes of James Joyce, Marcel Proust, Virginia Woolf, and others (and apparently is also Kazuo Ishiguro’s favorite novel, if that means anything to you).

That said, the novel stands alone perfectly well even after having read any of the works it inspired— unlike say, watching an old movie or playing an old video game that clearly hasn’t aged well. I was actually surprised a bit at just how naturally this book reads, considering the time period it's from (1840's). The setting aside, something about the story just felt more familiar or immediately relatable than what I was expecting, unlike say, Hawthorne (beautifully frustrating), or Dickens (quaint, but almost to the point of feeling archaic/old-fashioned), or even later authors like Tolstoy (digresses way too much), or perhaps I'm just too accustomed to books narrated by introverts.

It's hard for me to really pinpoint one good aspect of this work that I like, because there's just too many: the interiority; the rich dialogue (especially between Jane and Rochester); the gothic atmosphere; the strong characterization; the exploration of complex issues such as the role of morality in a Christian context, and the impact of societal gender norms on Jane's self-realization as a person, and so on. I think it speaks to this novel's strengths how much one could possibly unpack from it.

Granted, Jane's behavior and choices might not seem all that revolutionary by our standards today. But, it's not as simple as characterizing Jane herself as an old-fashioned moralist (which you could possibly argue to some extent). The fact of the matter is that Jane is a protagonist who both wrestles with and remains true to her own convictions, in a world that often would praise such consistency as a virtue and yet at the same time attribute to it anything else except herself, because of her gender. By reading into Jane's internal consciousness, you're allowed to see just exactly why she behaves the way she does, without losing any sense of her agency in the process. Bronte basically created an anti-Mary Sue more than a century before the trope even became a thing.

All that to say, I wish I read more books with strong female characters like this one. I'll admit that as a guy, I'm not often really perceptive or understanding enough of the issues that women have to deal with, or the full extent to which they have to deal with them on a constant basis, or the unique inflections those issues can take in different contexts or (in this case) mediums. It's probably not something I could ever really understand on the same level. But a book like this-- it helps. Even if just a little bit.

Review: The Stand

The Stand by Stephen King
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

It was a great ride for 1100 pages. A bit too long in some places, but otherwise better paced than any of the ASOIAF books, although I think that series has conditioned me to expect all 1000+ page books to be horribly paced. It was cool to see how each of the individual storylines began to converge together, and while the transformation from a "post-apocalyptic plague" to "post-apocalyptic good vs. evil" story was a bit jarring at first (it felt almost like reading two separate novels joined at the hip), it worked out in the end, and for a while I was obsessively hooked. King really knows how to draw you in.

And then the ending came along. I actually didn't have an issue with the deus ex machina here at first given the nature of how the entire plot developed, but after trudging through the remaining bland 50+ pages and ruminating over the implications, holy crap that ending sucked- to the extent where it makes you wonder what the point of it all was. Maybe you could argue something about how fate and God worked throughout the entire story to justify it (and other stuff), but it doesn't make the aftertaste any less bitter.

Also, -1 star for killing off my favorite character. I know that sounds petty, but in light of the ending, this death was pointless. The main characters who survived until the end were the least interesting of them all, and it made me almost feel like King was trying to make an ironic statement about how everything you do in this life is futile.