Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts

the chimes

Friday, February 3, 2017 | | 1 comments
How did Anna Smaill’s The Chimes end up in my pile of books to read? That’s the question I’m asking myself after finishing it in one gulp yesterday. I stayed home sick from work and couldn’t bear to stare at a screen. The printed page worked though, so I read a really wonderful book in between naps and cups of tea. It’s the sort of book I thought would have been praised to the skies, the coverage unavoidable. If it was, I missed it. And my library only has two print copies in the system (and no ebooks), so they missed it too. My best guess is that I saw it mentioned in Book Riot’s Swords & Spaceships newsletter from November 4 (those lovely, simple days pre-election) – and I must have added it then to my library holds list. In any event, go find a copy for yourself and read it because it. is. fantastic.

the chimes by anna smaill book cover
After the end of a brutal civil war, London is divided, with slums standing next to a walled city of elites. Monk-like masters are selected for special schooling and shut away for decades, learning to write beautiful compositions for the chimes, played citywide morning and night, to mute memory and keep the citizens trapped in ignorance.

A young orphan named Simon arrives in London with nothing but the vague sense of a half-forgotten promise, to locate someone. What he finds is a new family--a gang of scavengers that patrols the underbelly of the city looking for valuable metal to sell. Drawn in by an enigmatic and charismatic leader, a blind young man named Lucien with a gift for song, Simon forgets entirely what originally brought him to the place he has now made his home.

In this alternate London, the past is a mystery, each new day feels the same as the last, and before is considered "blasphony." But Simon has a unique gift--the gift of retaining memories--that will lead him to discover a great injustice and take him far beyond the meager life as a member of Lucien's gang. Before long he will be engaged in an epic struggle for justice, love, and freedom.

In Simon’s world, the music of the Chimes at the end of the day wipes away memory, and the Onestory at the start of the day tells the story of humanity’s history. Since humans can’t hold on to memories, they hold on to bodymemory (repetitive actions mostly having to do with their trade) and objectmemory (imbuing specific objects with a memory they want to keep with them). But newly orphaned Simon has a gift – he can see memories and hold on to them longer than most. When he makes his way to London he falls in with a group of scavengers led by the ringleader Lucien and forgets about his past and his quest – for a time. Memory won’t leave him alone though, even in a world where that shouldn’t be possible.

Do you know that strange familiar feeling when a story is deeply original, but it somehow also reminds you of some thing, some touchstone in your memory? That is both the baseline story and the feeling evoked by this book. It is clear from the very start that something is deeply awry in Simon’s world, and that something has to do with music. Music is so pervasive it has replaced most speech, and the written word (code) has died out completely. From page 31 of The Chimes, “The words are simple, because words are not to be trusted. Music holds the meaning now.” The Onestory says that words were the thing that brought about the end of the world. And with no one who can remember yesterday, much less the past, all of London must accept that as fact.

The Chimes is chilling and poetic and original, and I loved it. Music permeates every page, every part of life in Simon’s London. Events occur subito or lento, not suddenly or slowly, and time is marked in musical notation. That said, you need not have a background in music to “get it” – everything can be picked up in context. And as you’d imagine with a story told in an amnesiac world, the truth comes to light only slowly, in fits and starts, as memory unravels. Meditations on the meaning and genius of music, truth, and the shape and fragility of human memory (and then what that means about the “essentials” of life) – these are the things that take a dystopian tale and marry it to literary fiction. The resulting story is just gorgeous.

Other marks in its favor: it’s fairly short, it has good cross-over potential (there’s nothing subject matter-wise that I’d hesitate to give to a mature twelve year old), and though it has the “tag” of literary fiction, it would fit just as well on a sci-fi and fantasy shelf. Also [spoiler: highlight to see text] the only romantic relationship is a gay one, so that’s happy-making [end spoiler].

So I’ve told you why I love it. But. This book will not work for everyone, as evidenced by its Goodreads rating. It doesn’t teem with a constant sense of danger, and there’s no villain to root against from the start.  Subtle, complex stories have to hit the right chord with the reader, and if you add up the heavily musical language, dystopian setting, and memory loss afflicting the characters, reader drop off is a given. It’s a book that takes a bit of patience, but it’s wildly inventive and unsettling and beautifully written once you’ve gotten inside and been swept away.

I happened to read The Chimes at the right time. I needed a story that was simultaneously beautiful and new, and that asked the age-old questions, “Do the ends justify the means?” and “What does it mean to be human?”

Recommended for: fans of the music of Patricia McKillip’s writing, the sincerity of Patrick Ness’ protagonists, and the subtlety of Leah Bobet’s worldbuilding, those looking for an adult readalike of Lois Lowry’s The Giver, and anyone who loves music, cleverly wrought dystopias, and/or literary fiction.

chopsticks

Monday, February 20, 2012 | | 7 comments

Real life and blog life intersect in strange places. I was back home in Seattle for Christmas, at lunch with a second cousin, when she mentioned that she had a friend who had a young adult novel coming out. I wasn’t expecting anything (except the worst-case scenario: to hate the book on sight), but I looked up the cover on my phone anyway and HELLO! How to say this? Exceeded expectations.


I don’t need to tell you that the cover is gorgeous, right? The book was Chopsticks (claro que sí), which I had already heard advance praise for in the blog world. I added it to my wishlist then and there, and the rest is history.


After her mother died, Glory retreated into herself and her music. Her single father raised her as a piano prodigy, with a rigid schedule and the goal of playing sold-out shows across the globe. Now, as a teenager, Glory has disappeared. As we flash back to the events leading up to her disappearance, we see a girl on the precipice of disaster. Brilliant and lonely, Glory is drawn to an artistic new boy, Frank, who moves in next door. The farther she falls, the deeper she spirals into madness. Before long, Glory is unable to play anything but the song "Chopsticks."

But nothing is what it seems, and Glory's reality is not reality at all. In this stunningly moving novel told in photographs, pictures, and words, it's up to the reader to decide what is real, what is imagined, and what has been madness all along…


Glory is a musical prodigy, and has been escaping the world at her piano bench ever since her mother died when she was eight years old. Chopsticks is a look at her life over 18 months, and it follows her romance with neighbor boy Frank. The interplay of chat messages, art, photographs and music tell several stories, and it is left up to the reader to discern how things end, and what has been happening all the while.


While not strictly defined as such, Chopsticks reminded me of a graphic novel. It took just over an hour to finish, but I found myself going back to particular images several times just to ‘check,’ and I’m still putting together Spotify playlists of Glory and Frank’s mixed CDs. I could have lengthened my reading experience by watching every YouTube video and listening to every piece of music as it came up, but as a primarily visual person I was impatient to move on.


When it comes to giving a verdict on Chopsticks, I have a few words: out of the ordinary, eclectic, intriguing. I think it is an excellent exercise in art and story, and creates believable mystery and tension. However. I am a print girl, and I did not connect as strongly with the characters as I would have with a book that had more, well, words. On the other hand, I am left with much brighter and clearer visual memories. Chopsticks is well worth the read if only for that. It is also the sort of story I want to discuss with someone else, so I'll be lending it to (read: forcing it on) my friends.


Still wavering? Check out this article/interview with Largehearted Boy. The book is also available in app form (a slightly different experience, and one I didn't check out personally). The trailer for the app can be found here.


Recommended for: appreciators of music and photography (and how when combined they can tell an entire story), fans of contemporary YA fiction, graphic novel enthusiasts, and anyone willing to try a new type of storytelling.

witchlanders

Monday, September 5, 2011 | | 8 comments

Love.


That word doesn’t reference the content of this book, but instead how I feel about it. In particular, I am in love with the world of the Witchlands, with its red zanthia trees, its fields of hicca, the verdant valley and the mountainous backdrop. Lena Coakley has imbued the setting in her debut novel with something magnetic and deep, full of possibilities and beauty and peopled with flawed, courageous and mad characters. I am so very happy I read this book!


High in their mountain covens, red witches pray to the Goddess, protecting the Witchlands by throwing the bones and foretelling the future.

It’s all a fake.

At least, that’s what Ryder thinks. He doubts the witches really deserve their tithes—one quarter of all the crops his village can produce. And even if they can predict the future, what danger is there to foretell, now that his people’s old enemy, the Baen, has been defeated?

But when a terrifying new magic threatens both his village and the coven, Ryder must confront the beautiful and silent witch who holds all the secrets. Everything he’s ever believed about witches, the Baen, magic and about himself will change, when he discovers that the prophecies he’s always scorned—

Are about him.


Witchlanders is, without a doubt, high fantasy. It is exactly what I’ve been craving in a story – strong world-building, mysteries upon mysteries, tensions running high among characters who may or may not have the motivations they claim aloud. It is also a feast for the imagination.


There were descriptive passages of Witchlanders where the mention of stark music and magic made me think of nothing so much as Adele’s raw and powerful song Someone Like You. I don’t know if I’ve ever matched a song and a story so closely in my head before, but the bittersweet lament seemed to fit the mood. I think you may see what I mean when you read Witchlanders for yourself.


The setting, of course, is not the only consideration. Let’s talk characters. Ryder is sure of himself and stubborn in it – he won’t accept a new reality until it’s forced on him. That immovability was so like my brother Peter’s personality that I accepted it immediately (you know you know someone like this. trust me). After all, it’s a standard convention that the stubborn ones need to be knocked over by magic before they’ll believe in it, right?


The story’s two small weaknesses, if they can be called that, were in the opening pages and the rushed pacing at the end. The opening of the book was the larger of the two, because I think it could turn less persistent readers away. I’ll just put it out there: the first bit, in Ryder’s home? Confusing. Partially because he’s confused, and partially because he is dealing with an unstable person, and the rest because everyone’s name is unusual and unfamiliar at that point. If you can push past this and acclimate to the world Coakley has created, you’ll get sucked into the story and its striking landscape.


Recommended for: fans of fantasy (and especially high fantasy), those who can appreciate the ordinary magic of a landscape, appreciators of complexity of life, and anyone who has ever thought that singing is a sort of enchantment which never seems to get its due.

it’s kind of a funny story giveaway winner

Monday, October 25, 2010 | | 4 comments

As is the way of the world, I’m forever late in posting giveaway winners. And this was a shiny contest with brand new Google Forms, too. It may have helped with efficiency overall, but it didn’t make me any more prompt. *sigh* That’s a problem for another day. Please join me in congratulating the winner of a paperback of Ned Vizzini's It’s Kind of a Funny Story and a CD of the film soundtrack…


Eva SB of Eva's Black Spot!


If you’ll remember, I asked entrants respond to this prompt: “What is one thing that helps you ‘cope’ when life gets stressful? If your life doesn’t get stressful (lucky you!), mention something that is calming or relaxing.” Eva SB answered with, “Nowadays it is my husband. If life is just getting [to be] too much I phone him.” I think that’s a lovely answer. I hope you’ve shared it with him!


Many thanks for all of your responses – I had a great evening cooking and looking them over. You’re a creative lot! And if you didn’t win this time around, be on the lookout for another contest very soon.

zee avi

Friday, May 29, 2009 | | 0 comments

My new favorite musician is a talented singer-songwriter from Malaysia named Zee Avi. I fell in love with her just before Christmas, when her song “No Christmas for Me” was put on the compilation album This Warm December: A Brushfire Holiday Vol. 1, put out by Jack Johnson’s label. I looked her up online (she had an empty webpage back then), and found her on YouTube and MySpace, where she had several videos of her songs posted…all featuring just her smooth, jazzy, mellow voice and backing guitar. Her self-titled album debuted on May 19th, and I bought it on release day. I have not been disappointed. Everyone I’ve introduced her music to loves Zee, and I wanted to share that on in blog form. So here are two links: the first is video of her performing three of her songs in a studio, and the second is a SPINearth report. Enjoy!

UPDATES: CNN has posted an article on Zee. She's huge! And a thoughtful and thorough album review.

surprise in concert

Friday, April 24, 2009 | | 1 comments
Jo, who lives around the corner and sometimes lends me baking implements, sent me a text on Wednesday afternoon.

4:31pm  Jo:  Hey! Do you like and/or know fall out boy and would be interested in going to a show tomorrow?!

4:33pm  Me:  how much are tix? i’d love to, but flat broke till may

4:34pm  Me:  crap. also have class till 7

4:48pm  Jo:  I can spot you for it no worries. I wasn’t planning on leaving until after 7 so that wouldn’t be a problem. Let me know!

4:56pm  Me: YES!

And thus I found myself at a Fall Out Boy concert last night, after six hours of seminar and not much sleep the night before.  Just for the record, I know two and a half Fall Out Boy songs.  That ‘Dance Dance’ one, the ‘Sugar We’re Going Down’ one, and half of ‘America’s Sweethearts.’  I say half, ‘cause I know the chorus.  BUT!  The wonderful thing about a pop/punk concert you didn’t plan on going to is that you don’t have any preconceived notions to hold you back from enjoying yourself.  As in, I just enjoyed the music and the show without spending the whole time wishing for a certain song, or obsessing about a particular band member, or (thank goodness!) going down into the crowd of high school kids right in front of the stage to jump around.

And I’ve never really noticed it before (this may be because I’m not a concert-going type...wait for it, I’ll explain later), but concerts are great places to people-watch.  There was this one girl in particular that caught the eye immediately.  She was wearing a deep v-neck white t-shirt, a black tie, suspenders, extremely tight jeans and knee-high boots with 4-inch heels.  Oh, and she had Lady GaGa hair (you know, the straightest, bleachiest blond possible, with bangs?).  But it wasn’t just her appearance.  She showed up right after us, started dirty dancing with her guy friends, and then tried to finagle her way backstage with a girl friend.  When she couldn’t get past Security, she continued dancing, falling over, and generally providing amusement to our entire section.  The way she worked those suspenders, dude…be classy, Atlanta. 

Speaking of keeping us amused…there were four opening acts before Fall Out Boy played: All Time Low, some band I’m not remembering the name of, Cobra Starship and Metro Station.  We only ended up hearing part of Cobra’s set, and Metro Station’s lead singer had a cold and sounded horrendous, but then after that there was a good twenty minute time out while we waited for the main act to set up and come out.  During the break they played an R&B mix, and one chubby boy (it was at a distance, so I can’t be sure, but he couldn’t have been older than 16) got his groove on.  I mean, he had the entire arena cheering him: getting low, shaking his a$$...he had more moves than I see in most music videos.  At one point he even took his shirt off and had groups of girls running up to hug him.  The Security guy in front of us was laughing and shaking his head, and the rest of us were screaming for more.  Love it.

But to go back to the topic of concert-going in general: it’s just not my deal.  My sister LOVES concerts.  And I’ve been to enough to know what I’ll enjoy, what I’ll tolerate, and what I’ll think was a waste of time.  For instance, I will pay a lot of money to go to (and I really will enjoy) an outdoor Jack Johnson concert.  I’ve been to see Switchfoot a number of times, so I know I like them in concert, too.  What I do not care for are concerts in venues with only one type of seating, bands I don’t know (there was this one time I went to a jazz concert in Pittsburgh and spent the entire time wishing I was on the way home…), having to stand so close to someone that their sweat may transfer onto me (MAJOR hang-up, right there), and events where the median age of attendees is probably 20 or 30 years older than myself (Trans-Siberian Orchestra circa 2007.  No, I did not pay for those tickets.).  I could give you a list of concerts that have been so-so, but I have friends who read this blog, and I’d like them to remain that way…

That said, the Fall Out Boy show was vastly entertaining (both on- and off-stage antics), I’m old enough now to purchase alcohol at these things, and by going to the concert I a) missed a massive thunderstorm (not a huge fan of thunderstorms.  Actually, not a fan AT ALL.) over Atlanta, b) got to hear some sweet music, c) spent my Thursday night doing something rather than going straight off to sleep, and d) got the weekend started off right.  Oh, and I got a couple of cool photos.

let's play favorites

Tuesday, April 21, 2009 | | 2 comments

This entry has been percolating in my brain for a couple of days.   It’s going to work like this: I have four categories, each with my top three favorites.  I’ll expand/explain the choices as I go.  And maybe tell a couple of silly stories. 

Category Uno: Japanese cartoons.  You say to yourself, what the heck?  Who has three favorite Japanese cartoons and blogs about it?  I’m for real.  I wasn’t a big cartoon-watcher as a child (discounting any and all Disney animated features and Winnie the Pooh) because from first grade on, television was banned in our household.  I discovered Japanese cartoons, therefore, in Venice.  Yes, Venice, ITALY.  My sister and I did a short Spanish and Italian tour after I studied abroad in Sevilla (circa 2004), and were in Venice on the day after Christmas.  In Venice, in the winter, it floods.  And it’s freaking cold.  So after walking around St. Mark’s Square, checking out the Doge’s palace, and taking the obligatory gondola ride (in the DARK!  What were we thinking?!), we went back to our hotel to dry out and rest.  Did I mention that this was also the day that the tsunami hit Indonesia?  Yeah.  The only thing not-news on the television in our hotel room was a Japanese cartoon.  Dubbed in Italian.  I fell in love.  I don’t remember which it was, but from then on I’ve been a fan of Japanese cartoons, preferably dubbed in a non-English language, or if that’s not possible, on mute.   The dubbed/mute thing is directly related to the silliness and terrible quality of any and all English-language dubbing .  SO…below are my three favorite feature-length Japanese animated movies, and the honorable mentions are my favorite Japanese cartoon serials.

1.  Howl’s Moving Castle (based on the book by Dianna Wynne Jones)

2.  Spirited Away

3.  Kiki’s Delivery Service  

Honorable Mentions: InuYasha, Pokemon

Category Dos: Music Albums.  I will freely admit that my musical taste is stolen.  I’m not an originator, I’m a follower.  And I’m okay with that.  What it means in less-than-cryptic speak is that I find most of my music favorites through friends and family.  I hear something that they play, decide I like it, and then get it myself.  There are a couple of exceptions, of course (Wait, no.  iTunes found those for me, too.  I’m pathetic.), but I can be honest about this: I’m not on the breaking-news-edge of musical innovation.  That said, I do have a couple of favorite albums, which are my favorites because I love every song on each one, and may be able to sing them all.  Note the “may” in the last sentence.

1.  In Between Dreams by Jack Johnson (My one admitted obsession.  Was introduced to him by my 10th grade English teacher.)

2.  Kansas by Jennifer Knapp (The first cd I ever bought.  Still love it.)

3.  Beautiful Letdown by Switchfoot (I have been to 4 Switchfoot concerts.  They’re awesome in person.)

Honorable Mention: Sing-A-Longs & Lullabies for the Film Curious George by Jack Johnson

Category Tres: Beaches.  I was going to go with cities to begin with, but decided that I have too many favorites for that to work.  Maybe in the future a cities-only blog entry will occur.  DISCLAIMER: these are not necessarily the ‘best’ beaches I’ve ever been to.  They are, however, beaches that mean something to me, that hold happy memories or good experiences.  And they are very different from each other.  But tremendous all the same.

1.  Prainha, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil (You have to take a surf bus that goes about 50 minutes from Rio central south along the coastline.  Then you get off and walk 10 minutes to a very secluded, rainforest-backed, pristine, white-sand beach with great waves, tranquility and beauty.  Completely breathtaking.)

2.  First Beach, Olympic Peninsula, Washington State (It’s more often rainy than not on this beach, and you have to hike through the temperate forest to get to it.  Once there, the beach has a stark beauty, a feel of isolation, and miles of coastline to walk.)

3.  Drake’s Beach, Wells, Maine (My family had a cottage for a week the summer I was twelve.  We spent the entire time enjoying the Atlantic swells, tracking sand indoors, and searching for seashells.  Pretty flipping idyllic.)

Honorable Mention:  Siesta Key, Florida (Gorgeous white sand on the Gulf Coast.  And there’s an Amish restaurant in nearby Sarasota: crazy package experience if you’re up for it.)

And finally, Category Cuatro: Spectator Sports Experiences.  I’ve been to lots of sporting events.  All of them entertaining in one way or another.  These rate as the top ones because they came to mind first, and are not necessarily in actual order of preference.  If you’re not a soccer/baseball/football fan, you should be!

1.  Sevilla v. Atlético de Madrid, 2004 (My first professional soccer match…I was blown away by the emotion of the fans and the smell of the stadium.  Don’t ask.)

2.  Mariners Game, Ken Griffey, Jr. T-shirt Night, sometime before the Kingdome was torn down (Description speaks for itself.)

3.  Homecoming Game, Florida v. LSU football, 2006 (I was sitting in the ninth row at the 50-yard line.  Insanity.)

Honorable Mention: any Michigan v. Indiana women’s water polo game.  Those girls get vicious!

And…done.

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