Fictional Speculations

Candle Man: The Society of Unrelenting Vigilance (Book 1)
Glenn Dakin
Egmont
2009

Introduction

Set in the equivalent of Victorian England, two secret societies battle for supremacy both in London and in the myriad of tunnels that lies beneath: the Society of Good Works, which seeks to bend all else to their will through excessive kindness, aptly started by the Philanthropist and consisting primarily of the idle rich and members of the aristocracy; and the Society of Unrelenting Vigilance, which is formed by the victims of the Society of Good Works, seeking to forestall the latter’s evil plans.

In the centre of this battle was an oblivious, young lad, Theo, who has spent a good part of his life in complete isolation, ostensibly because of a life-threatening health condition. He has been told that he must wear special gloves at all times and that he requires very painful treatments every day or he will die. This subliminal messaging created Theo’s sense of identity and for the longest time, he thought of himself as nothing more than a helpless invalid. Still, Theo longs to learn about the outside world and becomes increasingly desperate to meet people other than his guardian Dr. Saint, his butler Mr Nicely and his deaf maid Clarice, but he gets more than what he has wished for when he discovers that his disease is in fact a mysterious power to melt people into puddles of goo in a chance confrontation with two burglars. Confused by this sudden discovery and newly suspicious of his guardian’s intentions in imprisoning him, Theo soon escapes under the assistance of a garghoul (a living gargoyle) and the Society of Unrelenting Vigilance. In the ensuing clashes between the two societies, Theo learns that Dr. Saint is the head of the Society of Good Works seeking to nullify the threat of Theo’s heritage to the society’s plans. Even as he struggles to stay one step ahead of Dr Saint and his cronies with the help of the SUV, Theo soon finds himself also battling a horde of creatures thought to be extinct led by an ancient nemesis, the Dodo. The plot thickening at every twist and turn, this action-packed story with a steampunk edge is an easy and quick read for the young readers it is intended for and the overgrown kids alike.

Review

I came across a review of this book in one of my LJ communities (I can’t recall which one – if you had reviewed the book recently, thank you; you were the reason why I went to pick up the book) and was immediately intrigued. I have a very soft spot for Victorian steam-punk, even before I know there was such a genre to begin with, and particularly those written by British writers. (I am an Anglophile, I readily confess.)

Let me say it up front, this book was worth every pretty penny I paid for the hardcover.

YA speculative fiction has suffered of late from the effects of mass commercialism and the gradual death of new untried ideas that it has become incredibly difficult to find a good plot that does not involve wizards, vampires, werewolves, high school romance and dragons and new unfamiliar characters with personalities that are custom made specifically for them. The Candle Man broke through this trap of familiarity. The protagonist is different: brought up in a stern environment specially designed to brainwash him into a useless and malleable tool, his world view is warped. In one instance, he tells another character very solemnly that he considers the pursuit of happiness a social sin – “the pursuit of happiness makes people selfish... [i]t causes friction and society and leads to a morbid fear of death” – in such a matter-of-fact tone that the reader is brought to sympathise with the young man’s plight. The fantastical creatures are also refreshing after a flood of werewolves, vampires, goblins and elves: Dakin created an army of extinct animals controlled by a man who looked like a Dodo (how’s that for surreal), gargoyles brought to life and creatures made out of smog.

Dakin also has a flair for drawing the reader into his created world with his rich descriptions of a smog-ridden, both literally and metaphorically, London and the two warring secret societies. What I find even more striking is his ability to navigate moral ambiguity in a YA book. The ironic treatment, the subversion rather, of philanthropy and the caricature of the idle rich’s penchant to take up charitable causes lends the tale of the ignorant superhero on the cusp of discovering the full extent of his powers a more sophisticated and complex layer – which I appreciated greatly probably because I share the same bias, albeit not to the extent portrayed in the story, that philanthropy is often self-serving and inherently selfish. (I am a cynical Hobbes-leaning soul.)

If I had any criticism for this book, it is probably that the book is too much of a page-turner. Dakin has written for television and in some aspects it shows: each action scene moves on to the next relentlessly and every turn, just as you think the writer has to slow down a little and let the characters/readers take a breath, the plot picks up yet again. The fast moving and very well-paced plot comes at the expense of characterisation. There is hardly any time for a reader to be acquainted with any of the other characters to a point that their entrance/exit points always seem very abrupt. While I am able to empathise with Theo, I find myself feeling nothing for the other characters, which makes some developments a lot less impactful emotionally than they otherwise would have. At the same time, (a much smaller point) Dakin should really not try to be philosophical. When he tries through the voice of Tristus in the book, I cringed for a good two pages.

Final Verdict

A good departure from the usual fare on the main shelves these days. Great read. Like titles that folks interested in this might like to try may be: Philip Reeves’ Larklight (he has better sense of humour and great characterisation, but less intricate plot); and for less fantasy: Catherine Webb’s Horation Lyle – same steampunk effect, good plotting; and Eleanor Updale’s Montmorency, a series that I so adore I should dedicate an entire post just to it.

Rating

4/5 because I already put a note to buy Society of Dread the moment it is out.

The Hunger Games
Suzanne Collins
Scholastic Children’s Books
2009

Introduction

This disturbing young adult novel is based in a dystopia, where civilisation, if it could be called such, was divided into thirteen districts. In a move to quell the spirit of the citizens and squash any hope of a rebellion, the Capitol, presumably the highest authority, started this televised game where two representatives from each district would be fielded in The Hunger Games every year. Held in a contained environment known as the Arena, participants had only one objective: to be the last one alive. The book traced District Twelve’s Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark’s struggles to survive against all odds under the intense scrutiny of an unscrupulous media and the callous dismissal of the audience.

Review

I had so many people recommending this book to me, and given the calibre and taste of these folks, I thought nothing of travelling down to a bookstore at lunch one day just to pick this up. Partly out of respect for these same friends, I am weighing my review here very carefully.

The world that Collins has created is terrifying in its careless disregard for humanity, where the citizenry would rather fall in line and send two people from their community, whatever their age, into the Arena to die than to broach a rebellion against the authorities. Society is dysfunctional, as the black market becomes a key driver in the economy keeping the lower strata alive. The income divide between the haves and the have-nots is stark and the chances of survival are minimal. Half the time, I am not even certain that people want to survive. The Hunger Games plays up the violence, the bestiality in the participants in their efforts to keep alive; these I can excuse – I am a subscriber to the Hobbesian nature of man. Left on themselves, it is human nature to always watch for one’s survival and in so doing, life for one and all will be “nasty, brutish, solitary and short” – exactly the way the Games played out. I also appreciate how Collins kept most of them nameless – they are meant to be pawns. What I have found more revolting is the delight the cameras take in capturing each moment, the need to ham it up for the audience at home, the dependence on commercial sponsors for survival, the need to create a media persona in order to attract those same sponsors as well as support of the audience: basically the hallmark of reality competition shows today. Marrying the two concepts, the dystopian society and the immoral media, has been a stroke of genius, because it paints an unbelievably bleak view of the degeneration of humankind.

For reasons of the above description, I really would not recommend the book to any young reader. Not because I am dogmatic, conservative and moralistic, I’d like to think, but because, well I’ll much rather they keep a rosier view on life and humanity for a while longer. There is a part of me that wonders if Collins had intended to write the story for an older audience but lack either the confidence or the panache to carry it to the adult market instead. (I also suspect that the books would not have been as well received if marketed as an adult series from the get-go.)

Collins engages the reader well. Telling the story from the Katniss point of view is no mean feat, considering the character’s preoccupation with survival, almost at the cost of her principles, her ethics and morals. Her suspicious outlook borders on paranoia and her easy brutality shocks this reader. She, I find, is only redeemed by her emotional bond – I hesitate to say ‘love’ – for her sister, Prim and by association, District 11’s contestant, Rue. Her inability to see beyond the Games and survival, or perhaps, letting down the defences that she has erected in order to keep her family alive under the cold oppressive regime all these years renders her blind both to Peeta’s blatant affections for her as well as the possibility of rebellion. (I did wonder why no one thought of rebelling - but a quick scan through some of the most impoverished countries in the world today answered that: too many are too concerned with keeping alive that they would gladly abet the regime in keeping their oppressive hold if it meant them surviving another day.) That I managed to read through the book from the POV of a character that I at once respect, abhorred and pitied is, I find, testimony to Collins’ skill and vision.

However, I do wonder, and I should poll people here, whether the concept was what blown most people away. The dystopia at least and the idea of the games. What struck me when I was reading the book was how similar the concepts were to other works, namely: Richard Bachman’s (Stephen King) The Running Man and most definitely Koushun Takami’s Battle Royale. It brings me back to my discomfort in Jordan’s: when is it plagiarism? Besides this idea of last-man-standing in a game for survival, the first also played up the media angle and the concept of reality-TV-turns-brutal, which is more remarkable than Hunger Games considering that it was written in a time before reality telly became a norm; and the second for the concept of a contained battle arena and the use of the annual battle game to suppress the spirit of an entire populace. I did find that my having read Battle Royale, both novel and manga, made the Hunger Games a less exciting read, particularly because I thought the characters in BR were better fleshed out. Unlike HG, BR’s focus was not only on the protagonist and a chosen antagonist – and the Japanese have a cultural gene for the macabre. I also saw ironic humour on the blurb on the back cover quoting Stephen King as saying “Constant suspense... I couldn’t stop reading”, because well, I would have said the same about The Running Man and this was essentially his story retold, albeit with better characterisation and fewer plot holes. The only angle which I thought was a refreshing addition was the focus on playing for the camera, on the importance of styling and the public image – which has not been included in other books of the same nature.

Final Verdict

It was a good read, if not entirely enjoyable given the subject matter. If I can get over comparing it to Running man and Battle Royale, I would probably be able to rate this higher.

Rating
3 ...
... because I really do not feel the compulsion to pick up the next book.

I probably should adjust my ratings for Stepsister’s scheme. Jordan’s better than both Jim Butcher and Jim Hines, but if I put the Road as a five, and the likes of Robin Hobb and GRRM as a 4, Jordan is probably a 3.5.