Teens

Paolo Bacigalupi is destined to be one of the Grand Old Masters of science fiction in another couple of decades. His books are uniformly excellent and capture perfectly the aesthetic of modern SF. His pet theme is environmental and economic catastrophe creating an impoverished, post-oil world. Ship Breaker reads very much like a YA version of his Hugo and Nebula-winning The Windup Girl. Although it's never explicitly stated that Ship Breaker takes place in the same world, it is similar enough that it very well could.

The main character, Nailer, is a ship breaker, a teenager who lives his life crawling around in old vessels trying to salvage anything that will earn a little coin. It's a dirty, dangerous job, yet he considers himself lucky to have it, because the alternative is worse. The dystopian element is not an oppressive government, but a nonexistent government, in a world of drowned cities.

When a storm washes an expensive ship and a pretty girl ashore, Nailer and his friends have to decide whether to help the girl or strip her ship (and her) for parts. Obviously we know which way Nailer must choose for the story to go further. The rich girl turns out to have been fleeing from enemies of her wealthy and powerful family, and so Nailer is dragged along on an adventure that will take him far beyond any horizons he'd previously imagined.

You can tell this is a YA novel by the fact that Bacigalupi tones down the violence a little (but there are still some pretty gruesome deaths), and sex is only implied. The story is kept fast-paced and adventurous, with Nailer going from one close call to another. I'd compare Ship Breaker favorably to one of Heinlein's juveniles; its science and worldbuilding is (of course) more contemporary, but the story is very much a boy's adventure, with a pretty girl (who has plenty of will of her own) as a motivating factor.

Highly recommended: if you liked The Windup Girl, you should like this somewhat lighter story told in a similar vein, and it's better than a lot of adult SF.

"All children are Heartless. They have not grown a heart yet, which is why they can climb tall trees and say shocking things and leap so very high grown-up hearts flutter in terror. Hearts weigh quite a lot. That is why it takes so long to grow one. But, as in their reading and arithmetic and drawing, different children proceed at different speeds. (It is well known that reading quickens the growth of a heart like nothing else.) Some small ones are terrible and fey, Utterly Heartless. Some are dear and sweet and Hardly Heartless At All. September stood very generally in the middle on the day the Green Wind took her, Somewhat Heartless, and Somewhat Grown."

This book is every fairy tale and children's story and sad and happy and thrilling and scary Disney movie you ever saw, back when you were young enough for Disney movies to be taken at face value and you hadn't learned how to be cynical yet. Catherynne Valente writes with beautiful fairy tale prose that still sounds contemporary, and she balances the zaniness and fantasy of a down-the-rabbit-hole adventure with the darkness of true fairy tales and the lurking shadow of adulthood that only the finest children's authors can blend into a children's story without turning it either absurd or rendering it into something clever, something maybe even fun but not quite timeless. The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making is a story that should become immortal. It should join Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz and The Chronicles of Narnia and yes, Harry Potter on the shelf of books for Every Child in the World.

I don't read much YA, and I read very little MG fiction, but this book won my heart and turned me into that 10-year-old who knew he was reading something wonderful again. If you have kids, read this to them, and if you don't, read it for yourself, because it's clever and subtle enough that even adults will find their hearts touched.

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making begins with an ordinary 12-year-old girl named September who is taken by the Green Wind to Fairyland. It's so sudden and arbitrary it takes you a while to realize that Valente is very deliberately telling you right up front: "Yes, this is one of those stories where a child gets whooshed off to a magical world, and I'm not even going to bother making up a warddrobe or a tornado or a letter from Hogwarts to justify it." No, the Green Wind, wearing green jodphurs and with gold-green hair, just up and carries her away. On a leopard.

September, who is an ordinary girl with ordinary levels of intelligence, bravery, compassion, and maturity, then has Adventures. She makes friends. She is scared. She gets hurt. She is betrayed. And she discovers why she was brought to Fairyland. At every step, Valente shows a conscientious awareness of all the stories she is paying homage to -- sometimes she winks at them slyly, sometimes she practically dances them across the page complete with ruby slippers -- but this isn't a rip-off or a copy or a retelling, it's a new story. And September is awesome.

I swear that every child who has ever loved a book, and every adult who has ever been a child who loved a book, will enjoy this.

Cathrynne Valente's narration isn't exactly professional caliber compared to the professionals who narrate most audiobooks, but she does of course know all the places to put emphasis and all the emotions each line is supposed to invoke and she conveys them well, so listening to the author read her own book is, in this case, not a bad experience at all.

The good:

Laini Taylor's worldbuilding is rich within the constraints of the dual framework of an otherworldly, very loosely mythological, paranormal romance and a Romeo and Juliet riff.

Her writing is luxuriant and evocative, definitely a cut above for YA.

Her characters approach three dimensions at times.

The story is compelling when it's not faffing off about hard-bodied angels with satiny shoulders and creamy-skinned blue-haired Mary Sues.

The bad:

This is yet another book that would not exist if not for Twilight, and the 5-star reviews seem to mostly be written by teenage girls who will 5-star anything with a hot boy in it.


Daughter of Smoke and Bone is a YA paranormal romance pretending to be a doorway fantasy with angels and demons. Karou is a preternaturally adept teenager living in Prague, raised by magical beings who hide in an extra-dimensional cubbyhole, who goes on errands around the world, and incidentally picks up tons of languages and skills all over the place. Then an angel shows up and tries to kill her, something like a covert Armageddon goes down, and the rest of book becomes Karou uncovering her secret past while making out with angel-boy.

The rest of the book had an almost Narnia tone when it went to Elsewhere and the war between the seraphim and the chimaera. If only the author had capitalized more on these fantasy elements! But the epic war between these races is subsumed by, you guessed it, a pair of star-crossed lovers making kissy-face at masked balls and rolling on grassy hills.

I give this book 2.5 stars. The writing is great, the story and the setting are interesting enough to stand up with most fantasy novels. But at its heart, this is just another angsty teen romance with supernatural lovers, and many, many pages are spent dwelling on the physical perfection of the two protagonists and how they make each other feel hot and gooey inside.

I recognize that I am not the target audience. I picked this book by chance, and it's not for me. But that said, you can deliver a mature, sophisticated fantasy novel with romance, even for teenagers. This is not that book, though it does come painfully close at times.