Smilla's Sense of Snow

Synopsis
A young boy falls to his death and his neighbor Smilla sets out on a quest to prove he was murdered and find out why.

My take
This is not your typical whodunnit. It doesn't have a conventional ending or a conventional heroine. I liked that the ending didn't tie things up in a neat bow for me, but I'm still a little surprised I made it to the end at all. I just couldn't get into this book and I think most of the reason lies with Smilla. She's the star attraction of the book, and she's a polarizing figure you either love or hate. I didn't care for her. She possesses many traits I find admirable—self-sufficiency, inquisitiveness, pragmatism. But she was so aloof and robotic that it was hard to see her as fully human.

I also had a problem with the way the plot unfolded. I didn't follow the logic behind many of Smilla's decisions. Isaiah was afraid of heights, so it makes sense that Smilla would be suspicious about how he came to fall to his death from the top of the apartment building. But I never understood why she connected Isaiah's father's death with Isaiah's death. She turns out to be right and there wouldn't have been a story if she hadn't figured out the link between the two deaths, but the book is full of developments that I didn't quite follow.

This book did make me curious about the author, Peter Hoeg. He chose a female narrator and he also brings in elements you don't normally see in the mystery/thriller genre—for instance, the cultural clash between Denmark and Greenland and the use of math and science to solve the mystery.

Bottom line
If you can get past the flaws in characters and development, read this book on a swelteringly hot day or in front of a roaring fire because not only are the characters cold, but the locale is too—and it only gets worse the more the book goes on.

Fine print
Smilla's Sense of Snow, by Peter Hoeg 
Genre: Mystery
Photo from Goodreads
I borrowed this book from the library

Across the Nightingale Floor

Synopsis
Takeo's world is upended when his entire family is killed and his village is obliterated. He is adopted by his mysterious savior and learns he is a member of the Tribe, a family of assassins that possesses modest supernatural powers. He hones his skills and nurses dreams of revenge.

My take
I can't remember how I first heard about this book—I may have read about it when it the New York Times named it one of the notable books of the year in 2002—but I'm glad I put it on my reading list.

The story takes place in a world that's very similar—but obviously not identical—to feudal Japan. While some of the characters and events are based on real historical figures and occurrences, I didn't mind that they weren't exact copies. Lian Hearn introduced the concept of a separate race of people who can move at super speeds and make themselves invisible, so why not alter other details to suit the story?

Across the Nightingale Floor was written for a non-Japanese audience, so I was impressed at how seamlessly Hearn incorporated information about a history and culture that most readers probably wouldn't know much about. Her writing style also helps move the story along smoothly.

Takeo has a strong voice and is a well-drawn character. I felt for him and was fully invested in his part of the story. It was fun to read along as he discovered his new talents, and it was wrenching to read about the choices he faced—avenge his family, stay loyal to his adoptive father, or fully join the Tribe. His metamorphosis from country boy to mature warrior is well done. Unfortunately, the female lead, Kaede, does not fare so well. Her story is never as captivating or convincing as Takeo's. She's supposed to be a young woman who finds strength within herself much as Takeo does, but it seems forced and even a little cliched. Takeo's and Kaede's stories eventually mesh and they predictably fall in love immediately. It was sweet to read about but distracted from the larger picture. The narrative was strong—until the end, which was mostly Kaede's fault. Without giving too much away, I understand she needed revenge just like Takeo did, but the resolution to her story seemed contrived and it came at the expense of a satisfying conclusion for Takeo. Since he was the main protagonist, I felt cheated.

Bottom line
Highly enjoyable and mostly terrific. I'd recommend it, especially if you have any interest in feudal Japan. It's the first book in a series—I put the second one on my to-read list, but I didn't run out and get it, mostly because I was a little disappointed in the ending.

Fine print
Across the Nightingale Floor, by Lian Hearn
Genre: Fantasyish/historyish fiction
Photo from Goodreads
I borrowed this book from the library

One Hundred Years of Solitude

Synopsis
And they all died. Once upon a time there had been a town-wide plague of insomnia-induced memory loss, a woman who rose to heaven with her sister-in-law's precious sheets, and rains that lasted for four years, eleven months, and two days. And so it goes.


My thoughts
I had to struggle to finish this book. Every now and then, I pick out a book because it's on all the "100 Best" and "Must Read Before You Die" lists. Experiences like this make it easier for me to ignore those snobby lists. I was disappointed.

Jose Arcadio Buendia, his wife Ursula, and their merry band of followers leave their hometown and wander around in search of the ocean, where they've decided to build a new settlement. They never find the ocean, so they eventually just plop down in the middle of nowhere. The plot is pretty straightforward—it charts Jose Arcadio and Ursula's exploits and those of their descendants for almost 500 meandering pages.

I love epic family sagas, but this one didn't hold my interest. The characters all have variations of the same names, but they're easy to keep track of through their individual incestuous and/or obsessive compulsive tendencies. I never felt close to any of the characters because there's not much to relate to.

The detached writing style and the sheer ridiculousness of the characters' circumstances don't help. I know that's Gabriel Garcia Marquez's style, but I prefer Jorge Luis Borges's brand of magical realism. Garcia Marquez has this maddening habit of introducing an event or idea that seems promising and then veering off on a tangent for seventeen pages (all one dense paragraph) before finally getting to the point. By the time I finally, finally reached the end of one of these, I was usually so exhausted/exasperated that I didn't get any reward from whatever I'd just read. Yes, the writing is lyrical, but the beauty was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of prose.

Bottom line
At least I can check this one off my list of must-read classics.

Fine print
One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez 
Genre: Classic fiction
Photo from Goodreads
I borrowed this book from the library
Edited for typos