Dec. Book Recs: The Runners-Up

First off: sorry for only one post in November. I was sick for a couple weeks, and then had family visiting for Thanksgiving. But don’t worry, I’ve still got plenty to say about banned books! But first…

I read a lot of books this year. Not including my Did Not Finishes and picture books, I’ve read 56 books this year. That’s a lot, even for me. The vast majority were books I read for these monthly recommendation lists. I really enjoyed working on them, but each list took a lot of time and effort. That’s why I didn’t have any lists for July or August – I was simply too busy. For 2024, I’m going to do mini-recommendation lists, with only one or two books a month. 

Even though I read a lot, not every book I read made it onto the book recommendation lists. I limited myself to only 5 fiction books and 5 nonfiction books for each list. There were some great books that I really enjoyed that just didn’t make the cut. Even so, I felt like they were still worthy of sharing. So here it is: the final recommendation list of 2023: Books that Didn’t Make the Cut, but Are Still Good.

Nonfiction

Planting Stories: The Life of Librarian and Storyteller Pura Belpré / Sembrando historias: Pura Belpré: bibliotecaria y narradora de cuentos by Anika Aldamuy Denise. Illustrated by Paola Escobar

If there’s such a thing as a legendary librarian, it would be Pura Belpré. Originally from Puerto Rico, Belpré came to New York City for her sister’s wedding, and ended up staying for most of her life. She became the first Puerto Rican to be hired by the New York Public Library. There, she discovered her talent and passion for storytelling, though the library shelves lacked the stories she loved growing up in Puerto Rico. Throughout her life, Belpré wrote many children’s books based on Puerto Rican folklore, becoming one of the first Puerto Ricans to publish works in English in the U.S. Her work helped open up the library to the Latinx residents of New York City, and her stories continue to celebrate the culture she loved. Planting Stories is a picture book biography of Belpré’s life, with beautiful illustrations on each page. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I really wanted to include something about Pura Belpré for Hispanic Heritage Month. Unfortunately, the only biography I found aimed towards adults (The Stories I Read to the Children by Laura Sánchez-González) isn’t easy to find unless you’re prepared to buy it. I found picture book biographies, but I didn’t want to showcase more than one picture book. I’d already decided on A Land of Books by Duncan Tonatiuh. His work is just so cool. I encourage everyone to learn about Pura Belpré, or at least read some Pura Belpré award winners! 

Signs of Survival: A Memoir of the Holocaust by Renee G. Hartman with Joshua M. Green

Two Jewish sisters – one hearing, one Deaf – recount their struggle to survive during World War II. During the Nazi occupation of what was Czechoslovakia, Renee was the only hearing person in her family. She had to be her family’s ears, listening for the sound of Nazi boots coming to take her family away. Renee and her younger sister, Herta, were eventually separated from their parents and shipped to Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. Using sign language to communicate, Renee and Herta had to rely on each other to survive. Presented as an oral history, both sisters recount their lives before and after the Holocaust in a tragic story of sisterhood and survival. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I had this book as a potential pick for Disability Pride. After reading it, I realized that it didn’t fit the theme that well. It was more Renee’s story, rather than Herta’s. Regardless, their story is still powerful and important. 

And the Spirit Moved Them: The Lost Radical History of America’s First Feminists by Helen LaKelly Hunt

When did the feminist movement begin in the United States? With Susan B. Anthony and the Seneca Falls Convention in 1848? With Gloria Steinem in the 1960s? Hunt argues that the first feminist movement in the U.S. began with women like Lucretia Mott, Maria Weston Chapman, and Grace and Sarah Doughlass in the 1830s. These women railed against the patriarchal structures that treated them as unequal partners in the abolitionist movement. They bucked tradition and began their own interracial abolitionist movement, which included the Anti-Slavery Convention of American Women in 1837. Most of these women were moved to action by their Christian faith and felt “armed by God” as they denounced pro-slavery religious figures. Including photos and documents, this book is accessible to many readers who are interested in women’s history. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: It’s religious. The women being moved by their Christian faith wasn’t just a side-note, it’s a major point Hunt makes throughout the book. Towards the end, she calls for more faith-based feminism among women (of any faith, not just Christianity). There is nothing wrong with being religious, especially if your faith guides you to help others. I didn’t like how religion-focused it was, but it’s a book that many others would enjoy and even feel inspired by. 

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot

In 1951, Henrietta Lacks’s cells were taken from her without her consent or knowledge. These cells continued to grow and divide long after Henrietta’s death. Her “immortal” cell line has contributed to scientific and medical discoveries for decades, from a polio vaccines to studying COVID-19, and even being sent to space. Yet Henrietta’s family never learned about the HeLa cell line until 1975. While her cells have helped so many people, her family lived in poverty and, ironically, could not afford health care. Rebecca Skloot was fascinated by Henrietta Lacks and her cells, and worked with Henrietta’s daughter, Deborah, to tell the story of Henrietta, HeLa cells, and the Lacks family today. This book is impossible to put down, and examines race, class, and ethics in medicine and science.

Why it didn’t make the cut: Even if you haven’t read this book, you’ve at least heard of it. And it is absolutely worth the hype. Though I did put some award-winners and best sellers on the lists, I wanted to highlight less well known books that are still praise-worthy and meaningful. But if you haven’t read this one yet, stop reading this and go read it. Go read it now. 

Fiction

The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline 

The planet has been ravaged by climate change, which has resulted in most of the world’s population losing the ability to dream. The Indigenous people of North America can still dream, and are hunted for their bone marrow.  After French loses his parents and his brother is captured and taken to the “schools” – a parallel to the Canadian residential boarding school system – he joins a group of other Indigenous people – old and young alike – who have fled the cities to stay safe. Led by Miigwans, they travel north, living off the land and learning each other’s histories while trying to avoid becoming victims of a genocide. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: It’s a dark story. Really dark. Rape and murder are commonplace in this new world. The ending is ultimately hopeful, but it’s a long, bleak trek to reach that conclusion. The horrors the characters in this book face parallel real world atrocities committed against Indigenous Americans, most saliently with references to residential schools. It’s an important story, but a hard book to read. 

The City Beautiful by Aden Polydoros

While the rest of Chicago is marveling at the 1893 World’s Fair, Altar Rosen is working hard to earn money to bring his mother and sisters to the United States from Romania. After his best friend, Yakov, is murdered at the Fair, Altar is possessed by Yakov’s dybbuk. Unless Altar can find Yakov’s killer and bring him to justice, Yakov’s dybbuk will permanently take over Altar’s body. But there’s no justice to be found for poor Jewish immigrants, even when their bodies start piling up. Altar has no choice but to work with his old “friend” Frankie. Frankie helped Altar survive when he first arrived in America, but he has dark secrets of his own. Together, they need to track down a dangerous serial killer targeting Jewish boys all the while Altar navigates his grief and comes to understand his feelings for Frankie. A queer historical thriller, steeped in Jewish mythology. Includes content warning, glossary, and author’s note.

Why it didn’t make the cut: I really liked this book, and originally planned on using it for Pride Month. But when it comes to Pride, there’s a lot to cover, and I wanted to get as much diversity as I could when it came to the LGBTQIA+ spectrum. But I loved The Darkness Outside Us even more. It destroyed me emotionally was one of my favorite books that I read all year, and I really wanted to showcase it. The City Beautiful was still a great read, and I’m excited to share it here. 

Loving vs. Virginia: A Documentary Novel of the Landmark Civil Rights Case by Patricia Hruby Powell

Based on the true story of Richard Loving and Mildred (Jeter) Loving, this is the story of two people whose love changed U.S. history for the better. Milly, who was Black, and Richard, who was White, lived in the small town of Central Point, Virginia, surrounded by family. While Black and White folks mixed freely in Central Point, the rest of the state still had strict segregation laws, including laws against interracial marriage and “miscengenation.” Milly and Richard were married in Washington D.C. in 1958. Upon returning home, they were both arrested for “cohabitating as man and wife” and faced a year of jail time unless they left Virginia. They moved to Washington D.C., but were virtually exiled from the home they loved, unable to see their families or cross state lines together. After one of their children was hit by a car (he survived, but was injured), Milly and Richard were determined to return home. Thus began the fight of their lives for their right to be married. A novel in verse, the Lovings’ story is told from both Richard and Milly’s perspective, with illustrations throughout that enhance the reading experience. The dual perspectives during their wedding is breath-taking (especially if you listen to it on audio while reading the book, like I did). Facts about Jim Crow and anti-miscegenation laws begin each chapter. 

Why it didn’t make the cut: I loved this book, and I could’ve used it for a few different themes. But every time I’d planned to use it, I discovered another book that I wanted to highlight, and Loving vs. Virginia got pushed to the backburner. This book is one of the big reasons I wanted to share “runners-up” for December! 

Dragonfly Eyes by Cao Wenxuan. Translated by Helen Wang. 

Dragonfly Eyes is a historical fiction novel that tells the story of Ah Mei and her French grandmother, Océane. Océane married into the wealthy Shanghainese Du Meixi family in the 1920s and would eventually move to Shanghai and raise her family there. Océane adores her youngest grandchild (and only granddaughter) Ah Mei. Their close bond carries both of them through the turbulent times: Japan’s invasion of China in the 1930s, famine in the 1950s, and finally the Chinese Cultural Revolution in the 1960s and 70s. An omniscient narrator describes Ah Mei and Océane’s lives with tender details amidst the historical backdrop. Ah Mei and Océane’s loving relationship is the heart of this novel, softening the harsh blows that buffet the family.

Why it didn’t make the cut: I didn’t like it. Omniscient narrators and a thin plot made it hard for me to get into this novel. The book was lovely in its own way, it but wasn’t for me.

Oct. Book Recs: Disability Pride

For October, we’re celebrating Disability Pride! I know that Disability Pride Month is in July, but at the time I didn’t have enough time to do a full recommendation list. Here’s the mini-recommendation list. Even better, here’s some extra books to add to it!

 This is an important subject to me, and one that many of us have personal experience with. I have “invisible” disabilities, and the concept of “Disability Pride” is new to me. I’ve rarely felt proud of having disabilities as they have always felt more of a hindrance than a gift. However, I admire those who can embrace their disabilities – even when it’s hard – and celebrate themselves as they are. To steal a phrase from Temple Grandin, we are different, not lesser.

There are a lot of ways you can talk about disabilities and people who have disabilities. The conversation and vocabulary around disabilities and neurodivergence has changed a lot in recent years (like the word “neurodivergence” entering the common parlance) and it will continue to change. For this list, I will be using the terms that the authors/characters use to describe themselves. 

Nonfiction

Not So Different: What You Really Want to Know About Having a Disability by Shane Burcaw

When kids encounter someone with a disability, they may be frightened, and probably have questions they don’t know how to ask. In Not So Different, Shane Burcaw answers some common questions kids have about his life with Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Burcaw demystifies what life with a severe physical disability is like, answering questions about his wheelchair and daily needs that he needs help with. He explains that even though his body is different from most people’s, there’s nothing wrong with him. He may look different, but he still has a full life, doing the same things that all of us enjoy: spending time with family and friends, playing sports and video games, and of course, eating pizza.

Thinking in Pictures: My Life with Autism by Temple Grandin

Temple Grandin is so well known in psychology and animal science circles that the inclusion of Thinking in Pictures almost feels unnecessary, but her work both in the livestock industry and advocating for autism rights have been groundbreaking. Thinking in Pictures is part autobiography, and part primer on autism.  Grandin tells the story of her life as an autistic woman, and how she learned to navigate a world that wasn’t built for someone like her. Grandin’s stunning ability for visual thinking and deep connection with animals changed the livestock industry in the U.S. forever and led to the creation of more humane slaughterhouses (yes, that is a thing). She also describes the challenges and benefits of being autistic, and how it has shaped her life. Grandin writes that she is “different, not lesser” and shows how autism can be a gift. Originally published in 1995, some of the information on diagnosing autism and medications is outdated. Yet Grandin’s life story – born at a time when autistic children were often institutionalized – is compelling and fascinating. If you have any interest in neurodivergence, this is a must-read. 

Vincent and Theo: the Van Gogh Brothers by Deborah Heiligman

Two brothers walk to a windmill and make a pledge that will shape the rest of their lives.

Vincent van Gogh was one of the most remarkable and celebrated painters that ever lived. But the beauty in his paintings was often missing in his own life. The (literal) portrait of a tormented artist, Vincent most likely had bipolar disorder, among other physical and mental ailments. Throughout his troubled life, there was one person he valued above all overs: his younger brother, Theo. Theo supported his brother financially and emotionally throughout both their lives, sending him money and paint, and most importantly, believing in Vincent and his art. Their relationship was often strained, and rarely easy, but the deep bond and love between them carried both brothers through the darkest and brightest times of their lives. Meticulously drawn from the hundreds of letters that the brothers wrote to each other, Heiligman paints a stunning biography of both men. Beautifully written, Vincent and Theo’s life stories are filled with tenderness and tragedy. Much as we celebrate Vincent’s work today, it should be known: there would be no Vincent without Theo. The audiobook is excellent, and the print version has illustrations and a photo insert of some of Vincent’s work.

All Cats are on the Autism Spectrum
All Dogs Have ADHD
All Birds Have Anxiety

By Kathy Hoopmann

I couldn’t pick just one of these books – I had to include all three. Hoopmann describes common traits of autism, ADHD, and anxiety, using cute and funny animal pictures to illustrate each one. The books also list the positive traits as well: “His creativity is legendary!” “[P]eople marvel at their intelligent minds.” Each book ends on a hopeful note, that with love and support, you can achieve anything (and have anxiety-free days!) no matter what kind of brain you have. For parents, it can be hard to explain a child’s diagnosis to them, or find an opening to talk about it. Books like these are a great way to start the conversation, and the photos (apart from being adorable) can help both adults and children understand autism, ADHD, and anxiety better. They’re cute, informative, and I love how Hoopmann incorporates positive traits as well. My brain is wired differently from most people’s, and it has its drawbacks. It’s nice to be reminded that there are good things about that, too. 

Fiction

You’re Welcome, Universe by Whitney Gardner

It’s time for Julia to go public with her art. After a slur against her best friend is spray-painted on the gym at Kingston School for the Deaf, Julia covers it with a mural of her own, covering a nasty message with art. Instead of being grateful, her friend rats on her, and Julia is expelled for vandalizing the school.. Friendless and angry, Julia is forced to attend a mainstream school in the suburbs. Julia turns her focus on her art and makes a splash with her first graffiti mural…until someone tags over it. Then it happens again. And her rival is good. Really good. Julia never thought she’d be in a graffiti war, but she’s determined to win this, and hold tight to the one thing in her life that still makes sense. Illustrations of Julia’s (and her rival’s) artwork are scattered throughout the book. A fun read with insights into Deaf culture and a side of teen drama. 

Get a Grip, Vivy Cohen! By Sarah Kapit

When twelve-year-old Vivy Cohen writes a letter to her favorite baseball player, VJ Capello, for her social skills group, she doesn’t think he’ll actually write back. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to play on a baseball team either, even though she’s got a mean knuckleball. But when Coach K spots her pitching in the park, he doesn’t care that she’s a girl or autistic. He just wants her on his team. After some reluctance on her mom’s part, Vivy joins the team and can finally play the best sport in the world. Even better, VJ Capello starts writing her back! The two strike up a correspondence, with VJ offering advice on not just on pitching, but also friendships, bullying, and being a good team player. VJ understands her love of the game and believes in her…so why can’t Vivy’s mom? But with VJ’s support and a catcher who’s always got her back, Vivy’s determined to earn her place on the pitcher’s mound.

Pieces of Me by Kate McLaughlin

Dylan wakes up in a stranger’s apartment with no memory of how she got there. She’s blacked out before – the main reason she quit drinking – but is shaken to her core when she realizes that she’s been missing for three days. Dylan knows that she’s “crazy” – all the other mental health diagnoses she has don’t explain her losing time as frequently as she does. After a life-threatening event, Dylan is finally diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, formerly known as multiple personalities. The diagnosis is both a relief and a nightmare. Dylan must learn to live, communicate with, and eventually accept her alters as part of herself. To heal, she must also recall the trauma that forced her consciousness to fracture when she was just a child. The book can be dark, but it gives a sympathetic portrayal of DID, which is often misunderstood and stigmatized. Dylan’s story is ultimately hopeful as she learns that she can have a full, meaningful life with DID. Resources and a content warning are included. 

Unbroken: 13 Stories of Disabled Teens edited by Marieke Nijkamp

An autistic girl is cursed to grant wishes to anyone who is kind to her. A young writer comes to a new understanding of the theatre through Faust. A teenager with severe anxiety is the only one who can save her city from an impending attack. Unbroken is a multi-genre short story anthology, with stories ranging from high-stakes sci-fi to rom-com to historical fiction. The protagonists are well-crafted, never reduced to just their disabilities. The protagonists don’t set out to “cure” themselves, but their motivations are things every teen wants: love, security, acceptance. My favorite story is the first one, “The Long Road” by Heidi Heilig, where a traveler on the Silk Road (implied to have bipolar disorder) comes to see herself not as cursed, and accepts herself as she is. 

Banned Books Week 1: Intellectual Freedom

I can only remember my reading choices being called into question three times.

First, when I was in elementary school, my aunt saw me reading some sort of business-type book by Scott Adams, the creator of Dilbert. I was skipping the text and reading the comic strips that had been inserted on each page. My aunt laughed and asked if I understood what I was reading. I told her I was only reading the comics. She asked if I understood the comics, which I mostly didn’t, and I told her, “Some of them.”

The second time was probably in the summer of 1997, making me eight years old. I was eagerly reading a Newsweek article about the recently-launched Sojourner Mars rover. My mom asked me if I understood what I was reading. I was an above-average reader for my age, but Newsweek was still beyond me. I had no idea what the article was saying. I lied and told her that I understood it all.

The last time came when I was sixteen or seventeen, and reading The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer. Whenever I set it down, I was very careful to always place it cover side up, lest someone be weirded out by the summary on the back. When I did leave it upside down once, though, my mom read the summary and asked, “What is this book you’re reading?” Considering that the summary talks about opium and a boy being harvested from a cow’s womb, I’m not surprised that it raised a few eyebrows. When I told her it was sci-fi about clones and I also thought it was weird, but good. She just kind of went, “all right then” and didn’t ask again.

But at no point has anyone ever told me, “I don’t like that, so you can’t read it.” No one has ever tried to take a book from me because it was too advanced, or because they were uncomfortable with the subject matter. I got to read whatever I wanted, even if my parents didn’t love all of it. Though my mom might occasionally “check in” if I was reading a book with mature themes, she trusted me to make my own decisions when it came to reading. Some kids aren’t that lucky.

Let’s talk about banned books.

This is the week to do it, after all. Banned Books Week was established in 1982 by the Office of Intellectual Freedom (OIF), a subdivision of the American Library Association (ALA), in response to a sudden uptick in book bans and challenges that year.

Notably, the subject of book bans made it all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court in 1982, in the case Island Tree Schools School District v. Pico. The school district had removed 11 books from the high school and middle school libraries, which the school board decreed were, “anti-American, anti-Christian, anti-Sem[i]tic, and just plain filthy.” A group of five students, led by high school senior Steven Pico, filed suit against the school board. They alleged that removing books from their school violated their First Amendment rights. In a 5-4 decision, the Supreme Court ruled that school boards did not have the right to remove books from the school library “simply because they dislike the ideas contained in those books and seek by their removal to ‘prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion.'”

Five kids stood up for their intellectual freedom, and they saved their right to information. But book bans and challenges are still happening today, and at an alarming and unprecedented rate.

So I want to dedicate this and the next few posts to Banned Books Week, taking a look at intellectual freedom, and the threats it faces.

But first: What is intellectual freedom?

Librarians don’t take an oath when we graduate,* but if we did, it would probably look like the Library Bill of Rights. To shrink it down into just three main tenets, the Library Bill of Rights says (in brief)

  1. Everyone has a right to information, regardless of their age, sex, race, religion, orientation, gender identity, etc.
  2. Libraries facilitate these rights by providing information from all points of view, and need to challenge censorship or attempts to restrict anyone’s freedom to read and learn.
  3. Everyone has a right to privacy, and libraries need to safeguard the privacy of everyone who uses them.

I could talk about the right to privacy and libraries for a long time, but for this post, I’ll be sticking to those first two tenets. In a nutshell, this is intellectual freedom. Everyone has a right to information from all points of view, without restriction. And it’s not just me saying that. The U.N. agrees.

Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.

U.N.’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights

Censorship, book bans, and challenges all restrict our human right to information.

I’m going to pre-empt one of the most common (if not the most common) arguments for book challenges and bans: “Think of the children!”

As a youth librarian, I work with all ages of kids, from babies to teenagers. I obviously wouldn’t hand a three-year-old and a thirteen-year-old the same book. Likewise, two kids of the same age can have entirely different reading and maturity levels. A book that’s perfect for one kid might be totally wrong for another. That’s fine – there is no single book that is perfect for every person. Adults can and should provide guidance for kids when it comes to their media consumption, including books.

What shouldn’t be done is deprive others of the opportunity to access those materials. There are plenty of books that I don’t like, and ones that I disagree vehemently with. I choose not to read those books, or to read them with a critical eye. Just because I don’t like Red, White, and Royal Blue doesn’t mean that I can take it away from everyone else who might want to read it.

One more thing that I haven’t addressed yet: the right to receive information from all points of view.

This can be a hard thing when it comes to selecting materials for libraries. For instance, political pundits espouse plenty of opinions I disagree with. Yet they still have fans who want to hear from them, and who will eagerly dive into any book their favorite commentator puts out. Even if it’s misleading or potentially harmful.

At times, this has been really difficult for me. I mostly deal with juvenile and YA fiction, so I don’t have to decide if a book like Why Women Shouldn’t Vote** by John “Women are Intimidated by How Smart I Am” Smith belongs in a library. But I still have to make choices like:

Is this book where the characters appropriate sacred Indigenous practices something we want in our collection?
This books has strong misogynistic content, but the movie is extremely popular and it’s trending on #BookTok. Do we buy it?
The teens really enjoy rom-coms, but this one starts after a girl is kissed by a stranger in the dark. How would that be interpreted by the teens who read it?
This author is a slimeball and criminal, but his books get checked out a lot. Is it okay for me to buy this book and support him financially? Or is it better for me to order it so fewer people need to go out and buy the book?

I have to take all of these questions on a book-by-book basis. I reject many books because I feel that they would not suit our library patron’s needs, and I purchase others that I would never choose for myself because I know the patrons will like them. These are the times that I need to separate my professional ethics from my personal beliefs.

Everyone still has a right to read these books, no matter what your beliefs are. The library’s role is not to sort out what should and shouldn’t be read, but to provide information to those who seek it. Intellectual freedom is a human right, and Banned Books Week is a challenge to anyone who would take away that right.

So crack open The Bluest Eye, pull your copy of Perks of Being a Wallflower off the shelf, and dare to check out Flamer. Let freedom read.


*We do, however, get a cardigan alongside our diploma.
**Not a real book. I hope.

Eragon 40-41: Capture at Gil’ead

And so we keep moving forward with Eragon, and the next chapter, “Capture at Gil’ead”. Hm, I wonder what’s going to happen here? As chapters titles go, I guess it’s not bad. Certainly, no worse than “Doom of Innocence”. But it doesn’t leave much room for suspense. However, the title does come from the only memorable part of this chapter, so there’s that.

Most of this chapter seems like filler. Eragon and Murtagh are traveling to Gil’ead, where Brom had instructed Eragon to go before he died. I found it really boring and uneventful. This is partly because I’ve been reading Storm of Swords, where characters can’t step out their door for five minutes before something terrible happens, never mind a long journey. Where’s the bandits and gore? But more than that, this chapter covers weeks worth of travel, long enough for Eragon’s broken ribs to heal, and we see only three conversations between Eragon and Murtagh, and even less of Saphira. All the events are glossed over, and it’s really disappointing.

For instance, Eragon and Murtagh must ride near Urû’baen*, the capital where Galby reigns. Eragon and Saphira have just escaped from some of Galby’s most fearsome allies, and everyone loyal to the king will be on the look-out for them. They’ll have to use all their wits and skills to keep Saphira hidden and remain free, or else a fate most foul awaits them.

Or not. Instead, we get this.

Their travels north forced them toward the capital, Urû’baen. It was a heavily populated area, which made it difficult to escape notice. Soldiers patrolled the roads and guarded the bridges. It took them several tense, irritable days to skirt the capital.

That’s it. Seriously, that’s all we get. What might have been exciting and tense is boiled down to one insipid paragraph.

There’s another thing I’m trying to figure out as well. When I first read this book, I really liked Murtagh. He was easily my favorite character. Now, I’m honestly trying to remember why. I think it’s because he’s a badass with a dark and mysterious past, and I always did like angsty boys.** But Murtagh hasn’t exhibited much personality other than those few traits. Even when though we’ve known him for a few chapters now, we still don’t know much more about him as a person than we did when we first met him. In this chapter he demonstrates that he’s smarter than Eragon, but so are most characters in this book.

After pages of being told (not shown) that Eragon and Murtagh are friends, they arrive near Gil’ead and Murtagh arranges a meeting with one of Brom’s allies. But then–gasp!–Eragon loses consciousness. Again. And gets captured. Again.

How many times has he fainted now? I stopped counting.

Eragon wakes in a cell, drugged and dopey. He’s fairly sedated, to the point where he can’t remember enough of the Ancient Language to use magic to escape. He does see the elf from his dreams, Arya, in the prison, and her description is…well…

Her long midnight-black hair obscured her face, despite a leather strip bound around her head to hold the tresses back. [. . .] Her sculpted face was as perfect as a painting. Her round chin, high cheekbones, and long eyelashes gave her an exotic look. The only mar in her beauty was a scrape along her jaw; nevertheless, she was the fairest woman he had ever seen.

It made me roll my eyes, but then I remembered that the elves in this universe are a race of Mary Sues. Brom did imply this before, and the point really gets hammered home in the sequel, Eldest. After remembering that, I don’t mind it as much. At least it makes sense with the rest of the book.

No, it’s Eragon’s reaction that’s truly worthy of an eye roll.

Eragon’s blood burned as he looked at her. Something awoke in him–something he had never felt before. It was an obsession, except stronger, almost a fevered madness.

producers

All other obvious jokes aside, I do have another nit to pick about this chapter. In the first book in the series, Eragon’s greatest enemy is Durza, the Shade. Remember Durza, how scary he was?

Oh, no, you don’t. Or, at least, I didn’t. Until now, Durza had only been in the prologue. There was passing mention of Shades and how dangerous they are, but I don’t think we’re ever told what exactly a Shade is. Far more time is spent learning about the Ra’zac or dragons, which is fair. But when it becomes clear that Eragon wouldn’t be able to defeat the Ra’zac, his new enemy becomes Durza. But since we know next to nothing about Shades or Durza, his sudden appearance here doesn’t do much to scare the reader.

That, and because Durza’s description sounds like Ronald McDonald. White face with red lips and hair? Forget powerful magician, he’s a hamburger-slinging clown.

Durza has a conversation with Eragon, saying that he’s visiting the cell just to gloat at capturing a Dragon Rider. You know, an action that’s never led to any villain’s downfall, ever. In truth, he comes to find out exactly what Eragon’s “true name” is, which is a wasted effort as Eragon doesn’t even know what it really is.

If you ask me, the true purpose of their conversation is to remind the reader that Eragon has enemies besides the Ra’zac, but Durza doesn’t feel particularly threatening, especially since it’s been more than 40 chapters since we last heard from the Shade, or cared about what he was doing.

*Do you really need both the apostrophe and the û?! One is more than enough. Now you’re just fucking with us, Paolini.
**Adulting Protip: Leave the dark, brooding male lead in fiction where he belongs. Do not date him in real life.