Anna Faúndez

Author: Anna Faúndez

  • Charlotte’s Web

    Charlotte’s Web
    By E.B. White

    I really thought I’d read this book before, but it turns out I only saw the animated film from 1973. Which is just fine, considering that movie turned out to be incredibly true to the book! A lot of lines and scenes I remembered from the movie—that I watched quite a lot as a kid in the 90s—were word for word from the book!

    Charlotte’s Web is really about accepting change. It’s a good message for kids that, sometimes, you can’t “fight fate” and sometimes you can. Wilbur changes his fate through the help of the friends around him. They put in work, and so does he. Wilbur jumps and dances and tries his best to please the humans. Yes, sure, it’s so they won’t butcher and eat him, but this is a story about a pig on a farm.

    Young piglet

    But Charlotte cannot change her fate or her place in the world. I liked this acceptance of life as it is: unfair. Wilbur’s grief at Charlotte’s death is less traumatizing because it’s framed as “life goes on.” Instead of becoming bitter, Wilbur is grateful for his time with Charlotte, and he vows to care for her descendants.

    Which brings me to the second main point of the novel: unconditional friendship. Charlotte and Wilbur’s relationship is completely based in companionship. Their relationship is not transactional. Templeton, on the other hand, shares a purely transactional relationship with Wilbur. What’s important here is these two relationships are the two Wilbur most often connects with due to proximity. This is often the case for school-aged children: they have friends mostly based on who’s in their class.

    In the two extreme cases of Templeton (transactional) and Charlotte (companionable,) E.B. White makes it super easy for a child to understand which relationship is healthier, even if they can’t explain the why.

    A spider in its web with a blurred background

    Overall, I’m happy to have finally read Charlotte’s Web. I hope it continues to live on as a classic.

    ~ Anna
    (Entry 27)

  • Dear America

    Dear America series from American Girl

    I Thought My Soul Would Rise and Fly

    By Joyce Hansen

    From 1865, Patsy writes her story as a freed slave post-American Civil War. I enjoyed this title a lot. The POV feels more like an adult than the narrator actually is (she’s supposed to be around 12 or 13,) but that didn’t take away from my enjoyment of the book. The content is thoughtful and emotionally charged. I liked watching Patsy realize what she wanted for herself and gaining the confidence and courage to go after it. Of course, as a book documenting post-war and slavery time, this book deals with some pretty heavy topics: racism, ableism, hate crimes, and equality just to name a few. But, the book is written in a way that a young reader could understand Patsy’s experiences. The book is designed to open a window into her life, and it does so in a meaningful way.

    Early Sunday Morning

    By Barry Denenberg

    Taking place in October, November, and December of 1941, Early Sunday Morning reads more like an account of what happened at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii by an adult pretending to be a child rather than a child who experienced that day. Amber Billows is supposed to be eleven years old in this story, and Early Sunday Morning is her diary of the months leading up to the attack on December 7, 1941. Overall, this was an okay historical account. The characters weren’t terrible interesting or well-rounded, and the setting was more vague than I’d have liked. I feel like the book relies on the reader already knowing the history at Pearl Harbor too much.

    So Far From Home

    By Barry Denenberg

    In 1847, Mary Driscoll, an Irish girl, travels to aboard a ship to America. Her parents sent her away to escape the potato famine that gripped Ireland for five brutal years. This little book, written as the diary of Mary herself, gives a very good look into what factory work was like in the United States for women. The hours were long, and the work was difficult and dangerous. One thing I really liked about this book was it does not shy away from the grim reality of how factory workers were treated as a whole and the stark difference in how immigrant girls were treated versus the “Yankee” girls. So Far From Home’s look into reality is heartbreaking, but the history is so, so important to know and remember.

    ~ Anna
    (Entry 26)

  • The Garden of Eve

    The Garden of Eve

    By K.L. Going

    I will always love this book. I loved it at twelve, and I love it at twenty-eight.

    The magical realism is subtle and beautifully done. I really loved the concept of gardens as afterlife. It’s a simple concept, and this is a middle grade book. Since The Garden of Eve is for children, the writing is uncomplicated. However, using simple language to communicate metaphorical or complex ideas isn’t always easy, so I applaud Going for managing.

    K.L. Going does a remarkable job handling grief in The Garden of Eve, and I think it’s a book I’d want my own children to read. It’s hard to understand tragedy unless experienced, and I believe The Garden of Eve was empathetic and kind to those grieving while opening a window into how someone might be feeling if they are not. It shows different people in their own grief too. One person withdraws into themselves. One feels lost and alone. One escapes into a lie. One remembers fondly, if sadly. All of these things are normal reactions to grief.

    I especially loved how Evie’s father was: doing his best for his daughter while mourning his wife. He did withdraw. He wasn’t emotionally available for Evie, and he also didn’t really understand how to interact with her in their new dynamic. And that’s okay! I’ve seen some reviews of this book say Evie was neglected and unloved in the face of her mother’s death, but I disagree. Grief isn’t perfect; it doesn’t allow for selflessness all the time either. I think the point The Garden of Eve makes is we all grieve, in our own way and time, but we do come back from it. We may be forever different, but we come back.

    Evie herself is amazing. She’s barely eleven years old. She misses her mom more than anyone, and she wishes their life had never changed. She didn’t want to move away from home. She didn’t want to leave where her mother was buried. She didn’t understand her own father’s grief—and she shouldn’t have. She’s eleven. To Evie, her father’s actions are selfish—and in some ways, they’re that too—but she does come to understand that he’s doing his best. But my favorite part of Evie’s grief is the guilt she feels when she begins to have fun again, to enjoy things. Guilt is a huge part of grief I feel isn’t talked about enough. Survivor’s guilt is talked about all the time, but the guilt of moving forward is not. Evie feels a wrongness the first time she wants to smile, to laugh. And it’s beautiful to watch her grow through the book.

    The Garden of Eve is on an expediated timeline. It takes place ten months after Evie’s mother dies. Ten months is not a long time, so the grief goes quick. This is middle grade fantasy, so you’re going to get a happy ending. A hopeful ending. There’s some adventure, some humor, some mystery, and some life.

    ~ Anna

    (Entry 25)

     

     

  • The Sweet Far Thing

    The Sweet Far Thing

    The Gemma Doyle Trilogy

    By Libba Bray

    Gemma Doyle drove me up the wall with her indecisiveness in The Sweet Far Thing. This book is over 800 pages. It didn’t need to be. There are a fair few subplots that simply didn’t need to be there, and Gemma spends an ungodly amount of time doing the “Will I? Won’t I? Should I?” in regard to what to do with the magic in the realms. As an editor, I wanted to get my hands on the author and help them tighten up their manuscript.

    Another thing that bothered me somewhat in The Sweet Far Thing was how Pippa and Felicity’s relationship was handled. No, it didn’t particularly feel like an unnatural progression, but I also got the distinct feeling that the girls’ relationship was forced into the narrative through flashback and an outside character going, “Oh.” I have a few reasons I think this may have actually been the case. And these girls deserved more than being an afterthought.

    1) Felicity didn’t want to marry. Okay, fine, but you don’t have to be gay to not want a marriage and desire to live your life freely.

    2) Felicity was always freer with her body and more confident in herself, but her desire to wear trousers and more avant-garde fashions of the late 1890s was something completely new in The Sweet Far Thing, and it mostly came off as part of Felicity’s admittedly rebellious nature instead of a true want or need to be happy and herself.

    3) Pippa very specifically dreamed of a knight in shining armor to marry her and sweep her away.

    4) Felicity has been with at least one man already. Yes, she could easily be bisexual (or any other sexuality attracted to more than one sex) but because Felicity and Pippa show nothing anywhere close to the type of relationship Felicity has shared with others, their kiss feels false. Not like a “forbidden love” and more like the afterthought it is by the author.

    The ending is . . . something else. I didn’t dislike it, but Gemma suddenly speaking up for herself and her entire family simply allowing it doesn’t feel genuine. I wanted her to fight for what she wanted. She’d done her fight and growing up in the realms—more or less—and now it’s time for her to go back to her real life and fight there, too, but with confidence this time. Felicity and Ann both find a path toward the lives they want, so their stories are neatly tied with a bow as well.

    The conclusion in the realms was about what I expected; Bray wasn’t showing signs of letting Kartik and Gemma be happy together, so I figured she’d off one of them. I found her method of doing so a little odd, but not unreasonable given the genre. However, the moment Kartik and Gemma share in the realms is heart-wrenchingly beautiful and very well written. It felt like a last bastion of hope before the coming war, swimming with possibility without the interference of fate. Alas.

    Which leads me to the last thing: I still enjoy Libba Bray’s writing style, and I’d like to see more of it in the future. Did The Sweet Far Thing need more work before hitting the shelves? Yes, I believe it did. Was this a terrible book that should never see the light of day? No. Is this book one I’m okay with shelving or handing off to the next reader? Yes.

    ~ Anna

    (Entry 24)

  • Rebel Angels

    Rebel Angels

    The Gemma Doyle Trilogy

    By Libba Bray

    Book two!!

    I was a little hesitant with how the book started; Kartik’s point of view wasn’t bad, but I immediately missed Gemma and hoped the book wouldn’t continue to swap between the two characters. Thankfully, it didn’t! We get Kartik’s motives right out the gate, and then we hop straight back to Gemma, Felicity, and Ann for good.

    Rebel Angels focuses on a lot of the same themes that A Great and Terrible Beauty did: fate, change, and control. However, since the main plot is ongoing at this point, I was appreciative of that, because those themes are necessary for ongoing character growth. This book begins in December of 1895, so it takes place very soon after the end of the first book. One thing I was a little disappointed with was the lack of the realms in Rebel Angels. A lot of the book takes place in London with drama between Gemma and a new love interest. There’s some extra drama involving Ann and a lie, but honestly, the plot felt it dragged somewhat. Gemma runs around thinking she’s got everything figured out, which she obviously does not, and then seems surprised when things don’t go her way.

    Kartik’s obvious jealousy of Gemma’s beau is a little funny. Gemma is sardonic as ever. Felicity has seen very little change at this point. And Ann seems to finally be coming into her own. At the very least, Ann’s confidence rises throughout Rebel Angels even if her situation is a pretense. The confidence is genuine all the same.

    But there were two things that made question marks appear above my head for Rebel Angels.

    One was Ann and how her self-harm was handled. Rather, not handled. At first, it’s implied that once she felt she had friends, Ann’s tendency to self-harm went away. When Gemma notices it again, she basically tells her, “Hey, promise me you’ll stop that,” and it’s literally never brought up again. “Ever!?” you say. Ever. Yes, this is Victorian England, but if Gemma was “brave enough” to mention it to Ann at all, she’d be much more likely to check in on someone she seems to think of as a friend. At least sometimes, right? Nope.

    The other issue I had with Rebel Angels was the assault Gemma suffered. The book breezes right by it, like since Gemma wasn’t technically raped, it shouldn’t matter. Wrong. It matters and would absolutely be a source of trauma! Magic vision in the middle, coerced to drink, and alone with someone she thought she could trust aside, this would be a hugely traumatic event in Gemma’s life. While I agree it’s highly unlikely she’d ever bring this up to her family or friends for fear of being “ruined,” Gemma doesn’t even think about it. For a character that has, up to this point, been very internally driven and unable to suppress her emotions, it’s weird.

    Overall, I didn’t hate Rebel Angels. I liked the pacing and story more for book one, but the second book was interesting enough that I finished it within a couple days. I think, at this moment, one of the girls’ teachers is my favorite character, and I’m very, very interested to find out more of what’s happening to Pippa in the realms. There are just a few mysteries left to be solved, but Rebel Angels actually wraps up the main story that A Great and Terrible Beauty began. But there’s one book left! What else could possibly happen? Let’s see how it all ends.

    ~ Anna
    (Entry 23)

  • A Great and Terrible Beauty

    A Great and Terrible Beauty

    The Gemma Doyle Trilogy

    By Libba Bray

    I’ve had this book on my shelf for over a decade, and I am so sad I didn’t pick it up until now. A Great and Terrible Beauty is many of my favorite things in one pretty package: historical fiction, fantasy, and young girls finding out who they want to be. I read the entire series in just a few days, which means I’m having to backtrack to write these reviews. I regret that a little, but I just couldn’t put the books down!

    I actually have very few complaints about this book. Gemma, the main character, is fun to follow, and I love her inner dialogue; she’s sarcastic and witty in equal measure. I found myself laughing a few times while reading! Each character in A Great and Terrible Beauty has a distinct personality and motivation. And they clash! Even the main four girls have conflict between each other frequently, which is something I really appreciate in books because it cultivates character growth or, at the very least, understanding. There’s some wonderfully written tension between Gemma and Kartik too. No, really, it’s great. (And it gets better in the next couple books.)

    Bray deals with the Victorian era rather well. Most of the girls in the story are worried about their futures in relation to making a good marriage. Some girls are happy with that. Some are ambivalent. Some don’t care. And some are actively hostile toward the prospect. Pippa, one of my favorite characters, wants to marry for love and is instead betrothed against her will. Ultimately, she makes her choice. (Guess you’ll have to read the book to find out what she decided!) Felicity doesn’t wish to be married at all! Ann would like to be swept off her feet and live a safe, stable life as a lady. Gemma doesn’t know quite what she wants yet, but she’ll figure it out eventually.

    There’s a few spaces in A Great and Terrible Beauty that have mentions of racism: one inner thought of a character not “supposed” to find someone of a certain race attractive was the one mention that really stuck out to me. Honestly, I think it wasn’t necessary in the book at all. I understand the time and place the book is set in, but the “way of the world” for the time is obvious enough through action and interaction. And for the character, it felt, well, out of character.

    A major theme in this book is control. Who has it? Who wants it? And what are these clashing parties willing to do to get it? There’s an argument for man versus woman to be made—which will come back to haunt us in book three—but A Great and Terrible Beauty mostly deals with loss. There’s so, so much loss in this book. It’s not always a bad thing, but the main characters are 16-year-old girls trying to find their place in the world and finding they have very little wiggle room.

    But on to something happier: the magic! I adore the magic system in this book. It’s a physical thing. It drains and fades. There are consequences for its use! I really enjoyed how the magic affected the girls’ mental states. It changed how they felt about their futures. About life. And that alteration caused a need for more. More power. More control. More freedom.

    I love how Libba Bray writes. Her descriptions are immersive and unique and fit the story to perfection. I didn’t notice any phrases “out of their time” either. Bray’s world is alive and full of amazing characters and conflicts. At this point, it’s obvious I recommend this book—the whole series—so what’re you waiting for? Have fun!

    ~ Anna

    (Entry 22)

  • Ella Minnow Pea

    Ella Minnow Pea

    By Mark Dunn

    The last book I read that made me keep a dictionary app handy was The Frog King by Adam Davies. But Ella Minnow Pea takes language to a whole new level, and it’s so much fun! To put it simply, I adore this book.

    In a fictional country called Nollop, a people live by and venerate a sentence: “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.” The sentence is beloved because it utilizes every letter of the English alphabet with only a few repeats. There’s even a statue showcasing the sentence in the center of the Nollopian town. But when the letters begin to fall off the statue, the people are led to believe it’s Nollop himself (the creator of the sentence) telling them to purge any fallen letters from their lexicon. What!?

    You read that right! But the best part of the book is its epistolary nature. Because of this, as letters are banned from use, so too must the author stop using them in the story. By the end of the book, the people of Nollop are left with only five letters to communicate. Not possible, right? Actually, yeah, pretty impossible. Language is forced to break its known uses and rules in Ella Minnow Pea, and I am here for it! Parts of the book are genuinely harder to read because of the creativity the Nollopians are forced to use to even speak!

    And the story is good too. Ella Minnow Pea, at its heart, is a commentary on the dangers of totalitarianism and censorship, and I like the book even more for it. I believe Dunn was smart to use language to make his point. When you really think about it, Ella Minnow Pea’s premise is absolutely ridiculous. Who in their right mind would ban letters from use in speech and writing just because they fell off a statue? No one! And that’s why the premise is such a good one for the subject matter. Dunn uses real-world totalitarianism tactics in Ella Minnow Pea but always adjacent to situations (I’d say) any logically-thinking person would stop and say, “Excuse me, they’re doing what???”

    In total (hehe,) I loved Ella Minnow Pea. I’m keeping this little book forever, and I’m so, so glad I found that random internet post talking a little bit about the plot. Thank you, random internet user. You found a new fan for the book you love too.

    ~ Anna

    (Entry 21)

  • Twin of Ice & Twin of Fire

    Twin of Ice & Twin of Fire

    By Jude Deveraux

    A two-for-one! Since these companion books take place at the same time, I decided to do the blog post for both books at once. Strap in for a couple of romances.

    No, I don’t always have great things to say about the romance books I’ve read, but I think it’s important to talk about how toxic relationships in books affect perception in the real world. I will have you keep in mind that these books were published in the late 1980s and early 1990s. What was acceptable in literature in the past has drastically changed for what’s acceptable now. And for good reason.

    ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

    {Warnings for Twin of Ice: sexual content}

    Twin of Ice features Houston Chandler, ice queen extraordinaire, and her quest to live the perfect life, as she’s been taught. You can’t really blame her for the way she was raised, and Houston is a fun character to read as she learns more about herself and grows throughout the book.

    She and Kane (the love interest) look to be exact opposites when they’re introduced, and I truly love that they’re shown to be much more similar than first impressions would have you believe. Houston and Kane butt heads because of differences in culture and social niceties, not true incompatibilities. And while I’m hard-pressed to believe their relationship would be successful, long-term, in the real world because of those things, Deveraux makes the possibility believable enough for a fun fiction read.

    I’m not a fan of how Kane treats women in general, but I understand this is historical fiction written in the late 80s. On that same turn, Kane does learn and begin to be more physically respectful over time. He may be a gruff shipyard boy, but he shows emotional growth throughout the book. He’s not perfect, or even a gentleman of the time, but he clearly has his heart in the right place once he figures out who he wants to be.

    Overall, I liked Twin of Ice more than the title initially made me feel like I would. (I really dislike people, women in particular, being called cold because they aren’t extroverted or assertive enough for the society in which they live.)

    So what about Twin of Fire?

    ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

    {Warnings for Twin of Fire: sexual violence and content}

    Twin of Fire wasn’t as good as its counterpart, Twin of Ice, and that’s mainly because I feel the “how the couple got together” was so strange and messed up. It was hard for me to forget about it as the book went on. And really, it’s not something you should forget, but we’ll get to that.

    Blair, the main character, is not a bad character by herself; she’s a high-energy go-getter that takes crap from no one and will loudly let them know their sexist ideas are stupid. But by that same line, for the scene where it mattered most, she forgets her entire personality and does something wildly out of character. (No, I don’t think it matters that she was “acting” or a little drunk. No one forgets themselves to that extent, and Blair clearly doesn’t if you bother to read.)

    At the same time, I think it’s important to acknowledge that Blair rapes her lover. Books (in my experience) rarely deal with rape in terms of female-to-male. And really, Twin of Fire doesn’t deal with it at all. Yes, the act is treated as a betrayal, but that betrayal is directed at what Blair did to her sister, not her victim. The actual, and probable, psychological effects on the victim are written off as anger mixed with a (confusing for me as a reader) desire to continue the relationship once he finds out the truth. (I’m trying to be spoiler-free here, but it’s hard, so forgive my vagueness.)

    That being said, had their “meeting” not been so weird and manipulative, Blair and her lover’s relationship would make the most sense: both educated, extremely smart, and hard-working for the common man. The two characters are very similar in all the ways that matter. That’s my preference for romances; I’m not a believer that opposites attract and stay together long-term. At least not happily.

    ~ Anna

    (Entry 20)

  • Eternity

    Eternity

    By Jude Deveraux

    {Warnings for Eternity: sexual content}

    I’m not an avid romance reader. Honestly, I tend to avoid the genre because of the high rates of sexism, thinly veiled misogyny, and abuse in romance novels.

    Six of the 200+ books in my home are categorized as romance. All of them came from 50 cent boxes of books from garage sales my friend’s mother frequented when I was younger. Six is about to dwindle to just one: three of the books have been relegated to my donation box, and two more are heading straight for the recycle bin. Yes, they were that bad, and I won’t foist their pages on someone else. Better to grant them new life.

    But what about Eternity? Overall, it was a pretty cute book.

    The main character, Carrie Montgomery, is a 20-year-old socialite from the East Coast of the United States. She’s spoiled rotten but still kind and funny enough to be likable. The premise of the story is . . . relatively unbelievable, but I was willing to suspend my belief because of the genre. No lost points there. (No, I don’t actually give novels I read a grade. They get stars on StoryGraph and GoodReads!)

    Once we get to the main story line and our heroine and hero meet, things get messy in a hilarious way really fast. I want this post to be as spoiler-free as possible, because the “how they met” is part of the fun! So, if you want to know that bit, you’ll need to pick up the book.

    I will say my favorite characters are actually the two kids. They’re, well, kids: silly, innocent, a little manipulative in a child-like way, and in need of some love. If you don’t like children in your romance novels, this may not be the book for you. They play a big part of the story, and they’re in almost every scene that isn’t just the heroine and hero “alone together.”

    That being said, I did like Carrie and her new husband quite a bit in their relaxed moments. Carrie grew on me more than Josh (the husband) did throughout the novel, but I didn’t hate him. He’s secretive and can be taciturn and quick to anger. But his anger was never violent; Carrie was never physically abused. I will say that the two verbally abuse each other through most of the novel. It’s not framed as a negative besides being “the hero and heroine butt heads.” We, in real life, know that’s a red flag in a relationship, but it wasn’t so bad in the novel (and understanding the circumstances and genre) that it ruined the book for me. Just remember that actual couples genuinely should not be shouting at each other and insulting each other all the time, and you’ll be golden.

    As a romance novel, of course there’s some sex. I’m happy to report that all sex scenes in this book are conducted with enthusiastic consent from both parties! The only, and I mean only, thing that made me roll my eyes was the “woman feels pain the first time she has sex because she’s a virgin” thing. This detail did lessen the scene for me somewhat, because, knowing Carrie’s history and physical activity level, her hymen most likely broke while horseback riding long before she ever had sex. She was aroused enough in the scene that I also doubt there was a lack of lubrication. Not impossible, but the details in the scenario and known history all point to a big “no” on Carrie experiencing pain.

    That’s about it without getting into spoiler territory. Do I recommend the book? Sure! If you like romance novels, kids, and don’t mind a fair amount of yelling, you’ll enjoy the book! It’s a cute read overall, and, of course, has a happy ending.

    ~ Anna

    (Entry 19)

  • Panic

    Panic

    By Lauren Oliver

    I bought this book at random from a thrift store trip years ago. I put it on the shelf and forgot it existed.

    Panic is a decent novel. It lands smack in the middle of dramatic thriller YA, and I admit that if I’d read the book when I first got it, I probably would have liked it more. I was a lot closer to high school age back then.

    My biggest complaint with Panic was how predictable it was. I’d guessed the “big reveal” (and other reveals) very early on in the novel, which meant my overall satisfaction with it decreased. I still had fun reading the book though! The different scenarios involving the game, Panic, were clever, dangerous, and executed well. The characters reacted differently and, more importantly, believably to the challenges they were presented with.

    As a reader, you’re introduced to a group of kids, troubled for one reason or another. One with neglectful parents, one with a disabled sibling in need of physical therapy, one with untreated OCD (otherwise “normal” with loving family) and one who also grew up relatively normally but has a dead mother and a hoarder father.

    The makings of a great cast, right? Diverse lives and experiences. They all want the same thing: the money from the game of Panic to escape their beaten down town, the place they perceive as the root of their problems. In some ways, they aren’t wrong. These are kids traumatized by life and see Panic as a way out. I agree that money can fix an awful lot, and a whole lot of money is on the line in this book. How much? Let’s just say I could pay off my student loans and still have some left over if I’d participated and won in a game of Panic. Not that I believe I would.

    Which brings me to another point: would you participate in a game of Panic? The stakes aren’t small. People die or are maimed while playing. But, if you win, you’ll suddenly find yourself with a lot of money to make a new life for yourself. If you say you wouldn’t play, why is that? In some ways, the book Panic is a privilege check, and it’s one thing about the book I liked very much.

    There’s a little bit of romance thrown in. Nothing unexpected. The characters are a bunch of teenagers, after all. When emotions run high, people tend to look to each other for support. Teenagers often view that support through a romantic lens. However, romance is not the focus of Panic. At all.

    Overall, I enjoyed my read of Panic. I can’t recall reading anything quite like it before, so if you’re looking for a YA thriller that has lots of drama, a sprinkle of romance, and tons of emotional angst, Panic might just be for you!

    ~ Anna

    (Entry 18)