Review: Bad Faith: When Religious Belief Undermines Modern Medicine by Dr Paul Offit

Whilst I'd be the first to say that I've read a lot of great non-fiction this year, Bad Faith was my absolute, undoubted favourite (and I've only gotten round to writing a review because I'll need to add it to my Top Ten Books of 2016 list shortly). I read quite a lot of medical non-fiction due to my career, but I'd never read one that was as accessible, well-written and thought-provoking as this one.

Summary: In recent years, there have been major outbreaks of whooping cough among children in California, mumps in New York, and measles in Ohio’s Amish country—despite the fact that these are all vaccine-preventable diseases. Although America is the most medically advanced place in the world, many people disregard modern medicine in favor of using their faith to fight life threatening illnesses. Christian Scientists pray for healing instead of going to the doctor, Jehovah’s Witnesses refuse blood transfusions, and ultra-Orthodox Jewish mohels spread herpes by using a primitive ritual to clean the wound. Tragically, children suffer and die every year from treatable diseases, and in most states it is legal for parents to deny their children care for religious reasons. In twenty-first century America, how could this be happening?

In Bad Faith, acclaimed physician and author Dr. Paul Offit gives readers a never-before-seen look into the minds of those who choose to medically martyr themselves, or their children, in the name of religion. Offit chronicles the stories of these faithful and their children, whose devastating experiences highlight the tangled relationship between religion and medicine in America. Religious or not, this issue reaches everyone—whether you are seeking treatment at a Catholic hospital or trying to keep your kids safe from diseases spread by their unvaccinated peers.

I'm not going to discuss the content of this book. Anybody who knows me even vaguely will know what side of the fence I fall on and hundreds of people (Dr Offit included) have explained their views far more eloquently than I ever could. Yes, Hanna is keeping her mouth shut for once.

This book contains a variety of topics from a close examination of Christian Science (which believes that illness is an illusion caused by ignorance of God - therefore, as illness is not actually real, the only way to treat it is prayer), televangelists, child abuse, abortion, etc. It's a well-balanced book with case studies, excerpts from the Bible and also scientific studies, which results in a discussion, not a rant.

What impressed me the most was the balanced nature of Bad Faith. Dr Offit is a Pediatrician specialising in infectious diseases and is the co-inventor of a rotavirus vaccine. It's fairly safe to say that his sympathies are going to lie with science and medicine, and so I was more or less expecting a diatribe on the dangers of religion and how their beliefs are ineffectual and redundant. As it turns out, I completely misjudged both Dr Offit and his work. Several chapters discuss how much good religion has brought about with regard to healing and how their efforts can be misintepreted by the more cynical. It's only the (usually) well-intentioned few who are the cause of the controversy.

Faith healing parents often argue that they were only doing what Jesus would have done. But what would He have done? - this man who dedicated his life to relieving the illness, poverty, and death around him; who wept at the suffering of children; who stood up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves. One can only imagine Jesus would have used whatever was available to prevent that suffering, much as Christians have been doing in His name for centuries.

What I loved about this book is that I still can't tell if Dr Offit believes in God or not. He never once suggests that God does not exist and, to an extent, I don't suppose it really matters in this context. It's more about the ways in which the fervent, zealous beliefs of a few (not of religion as a whole) have affected the treatment of many.

Several case studies are discussed in depth (including the Texas measles outbreak and the case of Matthew Swan that led to the large-scale investigation of faith healing) and Dr Offit references a huge amount of papers and studies to back up his opinions. Whilst this is definitely a popular-interest book, its based on thorough research and investigation.

I think I would have preferred a little more discussion on abortion, euthanasia, vaccination (although I understand he has a whole book dedicated to vaccination, so perhaps he didn't wish to repeat himself), etc, instead of the slight repetition with regard to faith healing, on which Bad Faith mainly dwells. My favourite section was (unsurprisingly) the part about the statutes which make it so difficult to prosecute faith healing parents.

Bad Faith is heart-breaking and shocking. I finished this book whilst getting a train to York to see a show, and I couldn't get it out of my head during the train ride or the show itself. Sorry, Alan Cumming. Some aspects hurt me, some angered me and others just caused bewilderment at how anybody could think that was acceptable.

This is a compassionate yet logical discussion of how a misunderstanding of certain religious tenets can lead to severe harm, despite the multitude of scientific advances. Dr Offit has written several other books which I'm looking forward to reading, including Killing Us Softly: The Sense and Nonsense of Alternative Medicine, which I've totally already bought.

I recomend reading Dr Offit's article in the New York Times - What Would Jesus Do About Measles?  - or listen to an interview with him about this book here.

Review: The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides

When I read the blurb of The Marriage Plot in The Works, I knew I just couldn't resist it, despite never having read Middlesex or The Virgin Suicides. A book based around the dissection of my favourite author's works? Yes please.

Plot summary: Brown University, 1982. Madeleine Hanna, dutiful English student and incurable romantic, is writing her thesis on Jane Austen and George Eliot – authors of the great marriage plots. As Madeleine studies the age-old motivations of the human heart, real life, in the form of two very different men, intervenes.
Leonard Bankhead, brilliant scientist and charismatic loner, attracts Madeleine with an intensity that she seems powerless to resist. Meanwhile her old friend Mitchell Grammaticus, a theology student searching for some kind of truth in life, is certain of at least one thing – that he and Madeleine are destined to be together.
But as all three leave college, they will have to figure out how they want their own marriage plot to end.

While this is very much a book about books, Madeleine's thesis about Austen and Eliot doesn't actually feature much. There isn't really an over-arching plot at all - instead it's about people, finding religion, literature, bad decisions, mental illness and a whole host of other issues. Not a whole lot actually happens as such, but it's worth reading just for the lovely prose and detailed conversations about books.

Not that I've read any of them. It's mostly about incredibly obscure philosophical 'greats,' which can make it a little difficult to follow at first. This didn't affect my enjoyment though - I'm happy to sit back and 'listen' to people who love literature as much as I do, even if it's about unfamiliar works.

She'd become an English major for the purest and dullest of reasons: because she loved to read. The university's "British and American Literature Course Catalog" was, for Madeleine, what its Bergdorf equivalent was for her roommates. A course listing like "English 274: Lyly's Euphes" excited Madeleine the way a pair of Fiorucci cowboy boots did Abby.
... the magesterial presence of all those potentially readable words stopped her in her tracks. She could scan book spines for as long as an hour. Her cataloging of the family's holdings rivaled the Dewey decimal system in its comprehensiveness.

Sound familiar to anybody? The Marriage Plot could only be written by somebody with an intense love of books. There's a lot to relate to in here.

Books aside, the remainder of the plot focuses on relationships. Madeleine, for reasons completely absurd to me, is drawn to Leonard... who doesn't really care about anything, too busy with his manic depression. He's a very unlikeable character who causes no end of problems, but I assume that's kind of the point. Mitchell, Madeleine's friend, is desperately in love with her and so runs off travelling to avoid his problems. If I were her I'd stick with my books, I think. 

The story loosely relates to the title, but only vaguely. Mitchell wants to marry Madeliene, who wants to marry Leonard, who isn't marriage material. Straight out of an Austen book, only with more sex. Unless you're Longbourn, anyway. It's kind of... real, though. The characters are all flawed and not exactly likeable, but somehow that adds to the appeal. It seems like this actually could happen, and to real people.

Like I said though, it almost doesn't matter. The writing is too great. It has a slightly formal style and passes on a lot of academic knowledge, so it does require your full attention but is worth every minute. It feels natural, somehow.

He'd turned eighteen in August and the Disease, as though waiting for him to reach legal drinking age, began to flood him with intoxicants. Two things mania did were to keep you up all night and to enable nonstop sex: pretty much the definition of college. Leonard studied at the Rockefeller Library every night until midnight, like a yeshiva student davening over the Torah. At the stroke of twelve he headed back to West Quad, where there was always a party going on, usually in his room.

The ending isn't very good at all though, which is probably the only fault of The Marriage Plot. It tries to be clever and tie in with the title but it's overly twee and incredibly unsatisfying. It's too flat. It actually took the rating down a whole star - what can I say, endings are important.

To conclude, Jeffrey Eugenides is a hugely talented author. The prose flows beautifully and he manages to get inside the head of a bookish 20-something woman perfectly - and I'm a damn expert. Read this for the experience, but don't expect to be blown away by the story.

Read Laura's review of The Marriage Plot over at Devouring Texts.

Review: Blue Bloods (Blue Bloods series #1) by Melissa de la Cruz

I read this series back in 2010; I loved it, but had to stop reading after the fourth book because, well, the rest hadn't been written yet. Since 2013 seems to be the Year of Rereading and I desperately wanted a comfort book, it seemed like a good idea to return to the world of Schulyer Van Alen. I then finished this book and immediately ran out (literally, the same day) to purchase all the installments I was missing, just so I could sit here and completely engross myself.

Plot summary: Within New York's City's most elite familieis, there lurks a secret society of celebrated Americans whose ancestors sailed on the Mayflower. They are the powerful and the wealthy—and in fact, they are not human. They are the Blue Bloods, an ancient group of vampires. 

Schuyler Van Alen has never fit in at Duchesne, her prestigious New York City private school. She prefers baggy, vintage clothes instead of the Prada and pearls worn by her classmates, and she lives with her reclusive grandmother in a dilapidated mansion. Schuyler is a loner—and happy that way. 

But when she turns fifteen, Schuyler’s life changes dramatically. She has a mosaic of blue veins on her arms, and craves raw meat. The death of a popular girl from Duchesne is surrounded by a mystery that haunts her. And strangest off all, Jack Force, the most popular boy in school, is showing a sudden interest in her. 

Schuyler wants to find out the secrets the Blue Bloods are keeping. But is she herself in danger? 

I love these books. I would happily sit here and devour them day after day until I'd read every single one of them (which I pretty much ended up doing). It's possible to completely lose yourself in the world of the Blue Bloods, as Melissa de la Cruz has painted such a brilliant depiction of their society. It's actually almost believable. The glamour and eliteness of Duchesne seeps from the page to the point where I can still see it in my head, days later.

The author has a real talent for world-building. There's just something about these books that make them stay with you. The plot itself is cleverer than first meets the eye as it works on three levels: a) young, snooty vampires facing a myserious danger; b) their passage throughout time as various historical characters; and c) the fascinating mythological aspects.

It works so, so well. Interspersed with the story are letters from the travellers on The Mayflower in the 1620s. These provide a little bit of something extra and it's interesting how the story keeps linking back to the actual history of Roanoke, the 'lost settlement.' It's not an age I know a great deal about, but it was still a nice addition to an already unique story.

So that's great. Unfortunately there is a pretty big flaw with Blue Bloods, and there isn't any getting around it. Just keep in mind that I adore these books regardless.

They're written horrendously. I've read these before, not that long ago, and I didn't notice then so I'm assuming the prose and dialogue get better in later books. In this one though... yeah, it's not good. Like, the story suddenly halts so that you can be told in detail what everybody is wearing, or a character will ask a rhetorical question, and then the narrative feels the need to point out that the character just asked a rhetorical question. People really obviously mumble things under their breath in a non-subtle plot point - "Oh yes. Mmm... Should be starting around now... Strange that there's no... Mmm." You know, like Hagrid in the first Harry Potter film?

The funny this is, I'm usually the first person to slam down a book in disgust due to bad writing. But here, the plot and atmosphere are so amazing that I can actually get past it. This is rare for me, but I can't emphasise enough how these books are definitely worth putting up with a little bit of clunkiness for a while.

So yeah, you've probably got the idea by now, but read these books. Even if you don't like vampires, or you don't like YA or you're morally against... I don't know, pearls, or something. The Blue Bloods series is so full of atmosphere and uniqueness that there really is something in them for everybody.

Visit Melissa de la Cruz's website, or find her on Twitter.

Review: The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance by Elna Baker

It's hard to pinpoint exactly what The New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance (and that's the one and only time I'm typing that title out) is actually about, although it seems like it should be obvious. While it is about a lonely Mormon girl trying to find a partner, it's also about weight loss, religion, self image, sisters, careers and a whole lot more besides. Elna Baker is a great, funny author and I will definitely be reading anything else she decides to write. 

Plot summary: It's lonely being a Mormon in New York City. Every year, Elna Baker attends the New York Regional Mormon Singles Halloween Dance - a virgin in a room full of thirty-year-old virgins doing the Funky Chicken. And once again, Elna is alone at the punch bowl, stocking up on Oreos, exactly where you'd expect to find a single Mormon who's also a Big Girl. But loneliness is nothing compared to what Elna feels when she loses eighty pounds, finds herself suddenly beautiful... and in love with an atheist.

I didn't know a whole lot about Mormonism before I read this book, but then I didn't realise that I didn't know until I read it, if that makes any sense. Elna Baker manages to present her religion in an explanatory way, that manages to be neither condescending nor judgemental and I now feel much more informed than I did before. Mormonism states that you must marry another Mormon before you can get to the highest level of Heaven - with that kind of pressure, it's no wonder Ms Baker couldn't settle for an athiest.

Still, don't think for a second that this book is just a lengthy religious lecture as the best thing about The NYRMSHD is Elna's voice. She actually sounds like a real person, which can be rare in memoir-esque books like this one. I'm not convinced the veracity of some of the events themselves, but that's fine - it's not like it's a signed witness statement, and a little exaggeration is par for the course.

I actually laughed out loud at certain chapters and just didn't want them to end. My favourite is the outline of her time working in the doll department at FAO Schwarz.

The display baby was on display for a reason. It could not be sold. Something terrible happened in the factory on the day of its birth because the doll's fingers were not like the other babies [sic]. They had been molded together - making it look like it had flippers instead of hands. As if that weren't bad enough, it had curly red Chuckie hair and scary green eyes, and it's head weighed at least five pounds more than all the other babies' heads. As a result, when you lifted the baby, its head would automatically flop back, and its little flippers would flip up - making him look like a tabloid monster baby.

Which is how the doll earned its nickname: Nubbins. And because Nubbins was for display purposes only, he didn't have an incubator like the other babies. Instead, he was kept in a cupboard. This was especially disturbing because Nubbins had a knack for looking dead. So when you opened the cupboard you'd find him slumped over onto his enormous head with his arms flopped behind him, like he died in Downward-Facing Dog. 

However, as is often the case in this genre of book, it did lose its way towards the end. It seems to be A Thing though - frequently the funniest memoirs will be repetetive and bland by the end, and The NYRMSHD is no exception. The last few chapters are the weakest when they should be the strongest, as they're the parts people remember when they're thinking back on the book as a whole (or writing a review!). Instead they were very self-pitying and, frankly, kind of boring.

On the whole, I really did enjoy this book. There were some incredibly funny parts and Elna Baker has a wonderful 'voice' that makes me positive I'd love her in real life. Unfortunately, the chapters at the very end felt like they'd been tacked on to make up numbers as they didn't really 'gel' with the rest and came across as rather self-pitying.

Visit Elna Baker's website or find her on Twitter.

Review: The Devil and Miss Prym by Paulo Coelho

Veronika Decides to Die by Paulo Coelho was one of the first books I reviewed for this blog - it's also one of my favourites. I found it to be a moving tale of a young woman's reluctance to persevere with life and I was desperate to read as much of Paulo Coelho as I could. Only... I didn't. I finally picked up The Devil and Miss Prym last week, and although I didn't like it as much as Veronika, it's still well worth a read.

Plot summary: When a stranger arrives in an isolated mountain village, he brings with him a devilish offer: If anybody in the town is murdered within a week, every surviving resident will receive a fortune in gold. His evil instigation throws the townspeople into a moral tailspin that ends with a major plot surprise.
 
It's a very simple concept, the likes of which can be found in any of those 'What would you do?' books. A stranger arrives at a sleepy village high in the mountains and shows the disillusioned barmaid, Miss Prym, a bar of gold he has hidden in the woods and tells her of another nine nearby. She must inform the townsfolk of his offer - if one person in the village is murdered by the end of the week, the village will receive the ten bars of gold. 

This book is based around choices, two of them. The first is Miss Prym's - she can choose to steal the one gold bar she knows the location of and run off to the city to pursue her dreams. This would not only help her live the life she always dreamed of, but also protect her neighbours from having to make an agonizing decision. On the other hand, the more moral choice would be to not steal the gold, and not to tell the villagers of the stranger's offer so that all concerned could preserve their moral integrity. However, should Miss Prym start down this path, the stranger has promised that he will inform the citizens himself and they will likely resent the barmaid for hiding this information and choose her as the sacrificial victim.

The second choice is obviously that of the villagers - whether they should accept the gold offered to them to save their dying village and murder an innocent inhabitant, or let their home wink out of existence, but stay on the side of righteousness.

Paulo Coelho is an immensely talented author who somehow manages to get right inside the heads of his characters. He did it magnificently with Veronika, and he does the same with the stranger who is trying to convince himself there is still good left in the world and with Miss Prym, who is facing the most terrifying decision she has ever had to make. Somehow, nobody in the book felt to me like a bad person - some were unlikeable, yes, but that's a completely different story. I know lots of people I dislike, but aren't necessarily 'bad.' But then, what is 'bad' after all?

To me, the essence of this book is good vs evil, and that perhaps it's not always as clear cut a choice as it seems. And yes, there have been many books on this topic already, but not like this one. This is a very specific, very personal look at what people can do when pushed. Religion occasionally comes into it, as does the Devil, but it's more in a spiritual way than a churchy way.

My only complaint is the 'major plot surprise' mentioned in the Amazon summary. That is to say, there isn't one. Although I admit that this is a fault of the blurb not the book itself, the story does seem to just kind of... fade out a little. It wasn't rounded off as well as perhaps it could have been.

Still, I really enjoyed reading it and I'm looking forward to reading the six books I bought in a Paulo Coelho boxset last week. If you're considering starting one of this author's books, I'd start with either Veronika or this one.

Visit Paulo Coelho's website here, or read my review of Veronika Decides to Die.

Review: The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ by Philip Pullman

You know how sometimes, despite any previous interest or knowledge in the topic of a book, you just know you have to read it and you can't explain why? Well, The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ is a perfect example. I have absolutely no idea what made me reserve it from Sheffield Library, but I'm really, really glad I did. 

This is a story. In this ingenious and spell-binding retelling of the life of Jesus, Philip Pullman revisits the most influential story ever told. Charged with mystery, compassion and enormous power, The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ throws fresh light on who Jesus was and asks the reader questions that will continue to resonate long after the final page is turned. For, above all, this book is about how stories become stories. 

I'm going to start off by saying that I'm not particularly religious and don't feel especially connected to the Bible. That said, my primary school was one of the old types that said prayers every day, sang hymns and had assemblies on Jesus and Bible stories. Not a religious school per se, it was just how schools seemed to be back then. My point is that I have a relatively decent knowledge of the Christian parables but I don't really understand them on a deeper level.

I mention this because it seems to me that The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ can be read on two levels. The first is just a story - the somewhat familiar Bible stories with slight alterations. Each is told in a tiny, tiny chapter of its own in a personal and humane way. It reads like one of those 'Bible stories for children' books, as it's very simply written and modernised so Jesus tells his disciples to 'shut up,' etc. It makes it a very easy read if story is all you're going for.

“Lord, if I thought you were listening, I'd pray for this above all: that any church set up in your name should remain poor, and powerless, and modest. That it should wield no authority except that of love. That it should never cast anyone out. That it should own no property and make no laws. That it should not condemn, but only forgive.” 

The second level isn't quite so easy, however. I'm sure it went over my head a little. Readers with a more theological background may have discovered hidden depths that I didn't, but the parts I did understand, I loved. If you go look at all the Amazon reviews complaining of blasphemy, you may get an inkling of what I'm talking about. 

The message I took from it was that Jesus was an ordinary man. Perhaps the Son of God, but with no power to perform miracles of his own. He preached and inspired the masses, but it was only after his death that his story was written down and altered to provide a more inspiring story. He didn't want the Church as we know it today to be formed - he foresaw a future of child abuse, tyranny and wealth instead of the Kingdom he envisioned.

It's not an anti-Christian book though; more anti-religious establishment. It's not a satirical book and Philip Pullman never even implies that the entire faith is ridiculous or unjustified.

I loved this book and I'm not even sure why. I was sat reading on the bus, having to put the book down every so often to muse over it. It was still on my mind as I walked from the bus stop to my house, and it's been a long time since I've thought seriously about God.  My opinion is that if a book preys on my mind and makes me feel this... peaceful, we were obviously meant to be together.

Long review short, The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ definitely isn't for everyone, but I can't really explain who it is for. A friend that read it hated it - he said it was boring because he already knew the ending. To me that's like asking if the Titanic story has a happy ending, but there you go. It really does depend what level you choose to read it on.

It's definitely not like the Northern Lights trilogy though - because yes, it is that Philip Pullman. It never tries to convert you to Christianity nor turn you from it. For me, it was just a very personal, human look at the possibility of the Resurrection not being quite as it was meant to, and it will stay with me for a long time.

Visit Philip Pullman's website here, or like him on Facebook.

Review:The Crown by Nancy Bilyeau

First off, a huge thank you to Orion Books for sending me The Crown in exchange for an honest review. Not only that, but they're very generously giving away copies to three lucky readers at Booking in Heels! UK only, I'm afraid but click here to enter. It's a beautiful, very intelligent book that would be a great addition to anybody's historical fiction collection.

London, May 1537: When Joanna Stafford, a young novice, learns her cousin is about to be burned at the stake for rebelling against Henry VIII, she makes a decision that will change not only her life but quite possibly, the fate of a nation. Joanna breaks the sacred rule of enclosure and runs away from Dartford Priory, but when Joanna and her father are arrested and sent to the Tower of London, she finds herself a pawn in a deadly power struggle. Those closest to the throne are locked in a fierce fight against those desperate to save England's monasteries from destruction. Charged with a mission to find a hidden relic believed to possess a mystical power that has slain three Englishmen of royal blood in the last 300 years, Joanna and a troubled young friar, Brother Edmund, must seek answers across England. Once she learns the true secret of her quest, one that traces all the way back to Golgotha and the Relics of the Passion, Joanna must finally determine who to trust and how far she is willing to go to protect her life, her family and everything she holds dear.  

The press release that accompanied my copy described The Crown as a cross between Dan Brown and Philippa Gregory. I was slightly dubious at first because I've seen many, many books profess Brown-esque similarities but this actually is. The plot revolves around a search for a missing religious relic but set in Tudor England and written in a beautifully elegant historical style. It really is the best of both worlds.

I love Britain in the 1500s and I love biblical archaeology, so this was the perfect blend for me. Joanna Bulmer, a young novice at Dartford Priory, is blackmailed into locating an ancient artefact by Bishop Gardiner - if she does not, Henry VIII will succeed in closing every monastery and priory in England. I'm not really that familiar with the Bible, but I was still captivated by her struggle to protect her Sisters and her faith.

The prose is beautiful. It flows like a well-crafted story but still emanates intelligence and elegance. It's very formal, as befitting the story of a young Tudor nun. Nothing irritates me more than Tudor princesses using the slang of today, but The Crown steers as far away from that as it's possible to be. Nothing but authenticity here, thank you very much! Whilst it's definitely heavier on the description than the action, it never felt like a slog. Instead I was captivated by the attention to detail and atmosphere present throughout.

I liked Joanna as a character. She is clearly a pious and devoted young novice who believes strongly in her faith, but somehow manages never to come across as preachy and never irritated me, and trust me - I irritate easily. Instead, her struggles between obedience towards her prioress and the desire to do what is right is obvious and I sympathised. I liked the way her Spanish background was brought in to explain the sympathy she felt for Katherine of Aragon and her faith.

Ms Bilyeau has clearly done her research. The novel is filled with minor Tudor personages and historical references, as well as a clear understanding of the Dominican order. I like to think I'm reasonably well versed in the history of this period, and yet even I had to dash off to Wikipedia a good few times. I learned a lot, although it did make the plot occasionally a little hard to follow when I wasn't really sure who a character was meant to be.

When a burning is announced, the taverns of Smithfield order extra barrels of ale, but when the person to be executed is a woman and one of noble birth, the ale comes by the cartload.

I will admit that the ending bothered me a little. It just seemed to kind of fizzle out a little and I didn't really see the relevance of certain (very minor) subplots right at the finish. The romance (if it could be called that) seemed to spring from nowhere and the whole issue with Joanna's father was a little surprising. However I can't say those really detracted from my enjoyment of The Crown.

Long story short, this is the best piece of historical fiction I've read in a long time. I'd thought I was burned out from all the Tudor fiction I've read, but perhaps The Crown was just what I needed to bounce back!

Click here to enter the giveaway!

You may also be interested in Nancy Bilyeau's website, or click here to see The Crownon Amazon.

 

Review: Good Omens by Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman

Oh Good Omens, how much do I love thee? I love thee as though thou were a vassal of water and I were a lonely wanderer in the desert, or as though thou were a sugary donut and I a fat child. Know that I would do aught to preserve thy existence as I love thee more than aught else in the frickin' world.

There was a bit of a mix-up when the Antichrist was born, due in part to the machinations of Crowley, who did not so much fall as saunter downwards, and in part to the mysterious ways as manifested in the form of a part-time rare book dealer, an angel named Aziraphale. Like top agents everywhere, they've long had more in common with each other than the sides they represent, or the conflict they are nominally engaged in. The only person who knows how it will all end is Agnes Nutter, a witch whose prophecies all come true, if one can only manage to decipher them.

So, the Antichrist has been born and uh... lost. Both Heaven and Hell know that the end is nigh and are using their representatives on Earth, Aziraphale and Crowley, to manipulate the situation so their side can be victorious in the Final Battle. Except neither Aziraphale or Crowley particularly want the world to end. All the good musicians are in hell, and Aziraphale dreads the concept of sitting around in Heaven listening to nothing but Elgar. Crowley loves his 1926 Bentley, that has one owner from new (him) and doesn't want to lose all the work he did for Hell creating the M1 and mobile phones. So eventually, the pair think that perhaps it might be better after all if the World continued to, well... exist.

There isn't a single part of this book that isn't ridiculously clever. Even the insignificant parts have lengthy and hilarious footnotes. It's set in the modern day, unlike a lot of fantasy novels, so we can relate to a lot of the humour. It's definitely not a comedy novel though - it's much more subtle, more mature that that. The humour never gets in the way of the plot, so it doesn't trip over its own feet trying to be funny.

Demons aren't bound by physics. If you take the long view, the universe is just something small and round, like those water-filled balls which produce a miniature snowstorm when you shake them*. For those of angel stock or demon breed, size, and shape, and composition, are simply options.

*Although, unless the ineffable plan is a lot more ineffable than it's given credit for, it does not have a giant plastic snowman at the bottom.

However, it wouldn't be half the masterpiece is is without Aziraphale and Crowley. They bounce off and support each other wonderfully. Although on opposite 'teams,' they've known each other for millennia and so bonded out of mutual respect and loneliness. I've never seen such amazingly-crafted characters in any other piece of fiction - while they both obviously emerged from their respective sides, thousands of years on Earth has mellowed them out. Hilarity ensues, especially when each side suspects the other of being responsible for a particular grievance, like traffic wardens.

Crowley put the Bentley in gear. Then he remembered something. He snapped his fingers. The wheel clamps disappeared.

   "Let's have lunch," he said. "I owe you one from, when was it..."

   "Paris, 1793," said Aziraphale.

   "Oh, yes. The Reign of Terror. Was that one of yours, or one of ours?"

   "Wasn't it yours?"

   "Can't recall. It was quite a good restaurant, though."

   As they drove past an astonished traffic warden his notebook spontaneously combusted, to Crowley's amazement.

   "I'm pretty certain I didn't mean to do that," he said.

   Aziraphale blushed.

   "That was me," he said, "I had always thought your people invented them."

   "Did you? We thought they were yours."

   Crowley stared at the smoke in the rearview mirror.

   "Come on," he said. "Let's do the Ritz."

 

Sorry. I could pretty much sit here and post quotes at you all day, but then you wouldn't have the fun of discovering them for yourself. Which I highly recommend you do, by the way. Even the minor characters are amusing - Famine, of Apocalyptic Horseman fame, is responsible for introduction of fast food, diet crazes and insta-meals all over the globe and constantly visits McDonalds restaurants to gleefully examine his handiwork for himself.

 

It does have a fairly formal tone though, and frequently discusses theology issues, albeit in an accessible and humorous way. It suggests that perhaps God and his demonic counterpart aren't as infallible as they're supposed to be and that even their plans can go awry. I wouldn't say it's likely to offend anyone as it's very tongue-in-cheek, but be ready to consider that maybe God's plans are only ineffable because he isn't quite sure what's going on himself!

 

My only complaint is that the ending is a little slow. It's not bad exactly, far from it, but it doesn't seem to keep up to the fast-paced style of the rest of the book. I'm not really sure how I'd have changed it myself but it seems to very nearly cross the border into Twee And Cheesy Land.

Dark light is not actually an oxymoron. It's the colour past ultra-violet. The technical term for it is infra-black. It can be seen quite easily under experimental conditions. To perform the experiment simply select a healthy brick wall, with a good runup, and, lowering your head, charge.

 

The colour that flashes in bursts behind your eyes, behind the pain, just before you die, is infra-black.

I've read works of both Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, but I'd be hard pressed to liken this to any of their other books. It's clear that the positive literary aspects of both authors are showcased in Good Omens. It's more formal than Terry Pratchett's usual works and funnier than Neil Gaiman's. I wish more than anything that they'd teamed up again and written at least one more novel because this is, and always will be, one of my absolute favourite novels.