Anna Faúndez

Tag: historical fiction

  • Song of the Sparrow

    Song of the Sparrow
    By Lisa Ann Sandell

    Very few books have stayed with me since I was a child; that lasting impact is elusive and unquantifiable. The list for me doesn’t even use one hand: The Giver, The Two Princesses of Bamarre, and Shadow Spinner have been books I’ve thought about every now and then as I’ve grown up. Some I’ve reread. Song of the Sparrow is another book my mind has drifted to over and over.

    There is something about this book that captured my attention, and I distinctly remember being unable to put it down. It’s a relatively short read, even for YA.

    A king anointing a knight with his sword while a crowd of other knights and a lady, presumably the queen, watches

    Now, with the more discerning eye of the writer and editor, I’ve reread my childhood favorite. I’m happy to report I love Song of the Sparrow as much as I did in the past, if not more.

    So what drew me to this book and hooked me? The emotions. Song of the Sparrow is filled with a level of emotional maturity I rarely see in books. Its prose is poetic and lilting, written entirely in the lyrical form. (This book is 100% responsible for my early poetry curiosity.) And Sandell delivers. She writes of friendship, growing up, infatuation, young love, family, and so much more.

    Elaine of Ascolat is the main character. She is sixteen, and she has grown up in a military camp surrounded by men who love her as family. Her story, her coming of age, is beautiful, and I’m struggling to say everything I want to without extreme spoilers. Of course, with Arthurian legend, many characters are going to be familiar: Arthur (of course,) Lancelot, Gwynevere, Morgan, and Merlin are just a few. But Sandell makes them people rather than legends. OK, maybe Merlin is still just as “wizardy” and odd as he is in most legends, but everyone else is definitely their own person with their own thoughts, beliefs, and ideas! They clash, forgive, confess, and cry. The emotional vulnerability and authenticity shown in Sandell’s book, through her characters, brings them to life.

    A woman with red hair wearing a chain-mail dress holding a sword up in her hands

    Just like The Two Princesses of Bamarre, Song of the Sparrow had an impact on how I viewed romantic relationships and what I decided I wanted for myself. The huge, dramatic love I saw in movies and in most books always had so much yelling and heartbreak and, well, drama. And it never set right with me. What I wanted—what I needed—was love born from deep friendship. Song of the Sparrow is one of the few books that showed me it was possible, that what I wanted was something worth dreaming about. As I write this review, I’m twenty-eight, and I’ve married my best friend. So really, I have two books to thank for helping make my dreams come true.

    Bottom line? I am forever impressed with Song of the Sparrow, in love with its form and characters, and, if you need me, I’ll be searching for anything else Sandell has written.

    ~ Anna
    (Entry 36)

  • The Miniaturist

    The Miniaturist
    By Jessie Burton

    This book isn’t my usual vein of historical fiction. I’m partial to Tudor era drama whenever I delve into the genre. However, I did like The Miniaturist overall.

    Its pace is slow, but the writing is solid and enjoyable. Nothing felt overly described or melodramatic. Sometimes the narrator, Nella, felt more like an observer to her own story than a character, but it wasn’t so bad that it put me off reading. I wish she’d had deeper characterization though.

    More than likely, this review is going to be full of spoilers. It’s really hard to talk about this book fully without them. If you don’t want spoilers, please stop reading right now. Don’t go past this sentence.

    A Victorian setting: a man and woman facing each other at the bottom of a set of stairs

    Still here? Okay, let’s boogie.

    So, first off, bury your gays, folks. And really, this is my biggest issue with The Miniaturist. Poor Johannes didn’t need to die. Not only was it wholly unnecessary to tie up loose ends in the plot, but it felt out of character for Johannes to get caught. This man was a merchant, well-versed in languages and cultures from all over the world. You’re telling me, to run away from the authorities, he packed a bag and walked out the door looking exactly like himself? And to his own boat, no less? Yeah, right. Johannes was depressed, not an idiot.

    Jack was . . . weird. He went from a relatively friendly person to the most vindictive, cruel, and unhinged person at the drop of a hat. I think Burton meant to go for the “jilted lover” feel? But, uh, it didn’t work. Jack’s character just felt disjointed without any real explanation.

    Loved Marin. No notes. Part of me wishes The Miniaturist was told from her POV rather than Nella’s. Regarding Marin’s fate, while it was sad and undeserved, it did feel hyper-realistic to the time, stresses, and lack of medical knowledge.

    A dollhouse kitchen in miniature

    What about the Miniaturist themselves? When you really look at it, this book had very little to do with the Miniaturist, the person, at all. However, if you look at the book as a miniature of life (not a slice-of-life,) then the title makes more sense. It feels both misleading and satisfying at the same time. Intriguing, for sure.

    From what I understand, the historical research was pretty good. I didn’t notice anything crazy out of place for the 17th century. I really appreciated the Dutch glossary in the back of the book. The cost summaries were also really neat!

    A final note: reread the prologue after you finish the book! It really is worth it in context.

    ~ Anna
    (Entry 34)

  • 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)

  • 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)