Surunhauras, lasinterävä - Siiri Enoranta

‘Sadeiassa jokin sai hänet varpailleen, jokin sai hänet toivomaan, että hän voisi koskettaa tämän hameenhelmaa, edes vain helmaa, kuin kangas olisi osa Sadeiaa, ja Tirilaiaa raivostutti, häntä raivostutti nyt, hän ei ollut samanlainen kuin kaikki ne typerät lampaat, jotka sokeina aukoivat suutaan odottaen Sadeialta herkkuja, vai oliko hän juuri sellainen, hän ja valkosuklaakanit, hän ei tosiaan voinut vastustaa niitä, hän oli kaikkien muiden yläpuolella, hän oli Sadeian alapuolella, hän olisi musteenmusta prinsessa!’

‘Something about Sadeia got her on her toes, something made her wish that she could touch the hem of her skirt, even just the hem, as if the fabric were a part of Sadeia, and it made Tirilaia angry, she was angry now, she wasn’t like all those stupid sheep that blindly opened their mouths waiting for Sadeia to give them treats, or was she just like that, she and the white chocolate bunnies, she really couldn’t resist them, she was above everyone else, she was beneath Sadeia, she would be the ink-black princess!’

This is a book I have so much to say about and no idea where to start. Surunhauras, lasinterävä (literally ‘Fragile as sadness, sharp as glass’, though the English translation offered by Bonnier is ‘The Sorrow-deer Tamer’) is Siiri Enoranta’s sixth novel, and continues with the familiar recipe: long, stream of consciousness –type sentences, strange names, a desperate dystopian world and deep, passionate romance. These are also the reasons why Enoranta’s previous novel, Nokkosvallankumous, is at the top of my favourite books of all time, so I’m far from complaining. And I really liked this novel as well… at first, anyway.

Surunhauras, lasinterävä is a story of the Sorrow-deer islands, where every six-year old is told by the sorrow-deer how much sadness they’ll have to endure in their life, and the Sidrineia kingdom, deeply matriarchal and led by a sixteen-year old tyrant. The story has over a dozen characters through whose eyes the intricate plot is told, hopping from place and time to another and recapping the same events from different minds, different principles and morals.

There are definitely good things about the book, and I’ll lead with those because I really wanted to like the story more than I did. I liked Sadeia and Kurkuma’s characters a lot at the beginning, but as the story processed, I came to like Tirilaia more than anyone else. She had her twisted admiration for the young tyrant and her childlike tendencies that made me believe she could really be a ten-year old girl who had been dealt the worst possible hand in life. Her story also didn’t get a quick fix ex machina like most of the other characters’ did, and she continued to have her own, strong voice the whole way through.

The style of the book is flowing but very heavy, the sentences drawling and reaching on and on in the most beautiful ways – if that’s your thing. There’s also something very deeply ingrained and Finnish about Enoranta’s word choices that made me feel like I was reading an old epic that took place in the future, faithful to my home country but set somewhere very far. She has an exceptional grasp on the language as well as a creative mind to put it into use, to the point where the novel’s flimsy plot didn’t prevent me from enjoying the work.

The characters are very different, at least in theory, but the more I read, the more I felt like most of them were blending together, similar voices and thoughts and all-around losing their characteristics in the mess that the book became after the two worlds collided. Some of the characters didn’t get much of a personality at all, and I think it would have been better to leave some of them out and focus on developing the relationships and characters that really mattered.

Speaking of relationships, I think Surunhauras, lasinterävä really suffers from its portrayal of teenage instalove. The novel wanted me to care about two separate romances that started too quick, developed too frantically and were too physical to really relate to, not to mention how these people just very conventionally found each other and fell in love in a heartbeat. I was also meant to care when one of these romances was brought to a bitter end, with the other character going as far as remarking that they’ll never love again. Sure, true love is a thing but here they hardly had enough time to even get past the pathetic crush -phase.

One more thing that might seem irrelevant but made the world of a difference to me: I really liked the last sentence of the book. It was out of nowhere and sudden, but it was hopeful and just so cute. I read it to my mum and she thought it was so cute that she actually started crying. That was definitely a great ending for the book.

All in all, I’d like to give the book 3,5 stars out of 5, because it was good, even though it just didn’t do it for me. I’ll round that down just because I liked Nokkosvallankumous so much more, but I’ll forever be looking forward to Siiri Enoranta’s new works (and read the previous ones when I’m in the country/run into them), because her talent is undeniable and her novels are always interesting, miserable and a pleasure to read. I hope one day her works will be translated into other languages as well, because I've spent so much time rambling about them to non-Finnish friends and because I'd love to see more Finnish quality YA novels out there in the world.

(PS. I promise I’ll start going to Starbucks less… or maybe not. Sorry not sorry! I’ll take a picture somewhere else next time though (maybe))

After I Do - Taylor Jenkins Reid

“Big gestures are easy. Making fun of someone who’s only trying to help you, that’s family.”

I actually finished After I Do a while ago, life just happened and prevented me from writing about it. Actually, life happened and prevented me from doing anything I should have been doing, bleh. Anyway, I finally got around to doing so, bit by bit! Sorry sorry, I promise I’ll be better this year, read more books and talk about them more. Anyway! 

Lauren and Ryan have been together for eleven years, the adorable high school sweethearts they are, but they can no longer stand each other. Everything that used to be endearing turns annoying, and they find themselves constantly arguing about the smallest little things. This is why they decide to stay separated for a year, zero contact whatsoever, discover themselves outside of their marriage and maybe find what they once had. I actually picked up the book because of the theme – it’s about a marriage falling apart, after all. How often do you read a book like this?

The story is told mostly through Lauren’s eyes, with small insights offered on Ryan’s feelings occasionally. This is clear from the start – it’s a book about her, not really them. Lauren is lost but hopeful, lonely but not alone, and during the story she discovers that there is no one perfect way to have a happy marriage, but everyone must find their own way. I think this was a very precious lesson, and I love how it’s taught through so many different people – Lauren herself, her mother, sister, best friend, brother, some lady writing advice columns.

The style of the book is very earnest and realistic. It’s humorous, but it also understands that life is not, and will not be a fairy tale. I found it very interesting in its own right, though the book doesn’t necessarily offer any brilliant insights on life beyond its subject. This isn’t a bad thing per se, but finding a quote that sounds sharp and witty outside of the provided context proved to be more difficult than it should have. The quote I ended up with was because it made me happy - it's just like my own family, after all.

I would be lying if I claimed that I didn’t enjoy After I Do, didn’t giggle with Lauren sometimes and shake my head in disbelief when going through her struggles with her. It wasn’t exactly deep, dark or bittersweet, but it was beautiful in its own right. It wasn’t a life-changing book, but sometimes I’m reminded of the time I spent with it, and it’s like an old goofy friend with whom I’m always happy to enjoy a cup of tea but not an intellectual conversation. It’s a book I can recommend if you enjoy a light but earnest story about finding yourself, among love and other things. I'm not actively looking to read more of Taylor Jenkins Reid's works, but if I run into one... well, I wouldn't mind that.

I'm pretty sure you'll hear me talk about Siiri Enoranta's Surunhauras, lasinterävä next! I'm trying to finish it before I leave Finland again ^^ Do look forward to that because a) I've really, really liked it so far b) I have so much to say about it and c) I haven't shut up about it since I started reading it, ha.

Anna and the French Kiss - Stephanie Perkins

“Anna, Anna," Josh interrupts. "If I had a euro for every stupid thing I've done, I could buy the Mona Lisa. You'll be fine.”

This is not a book I was supposed to be reading (exams are a real thing, I’ll have you know), but I bought it while down in Edinburgh with my mum last weekend and well, I suppose it says a lot that I could hardly put it down after starting it. Also, please take note; I figured I could stop using dull book cover images pulled from Google for actual books, so have a hipster picture I took in the local Starbucks today instead! If I get accepted to this one thing in January, I'll buy myself an actual camera for my birthday. Things to look forward to...?

Anna and the French Kiss is the story of Anna, who’s a neat freak and a film enthusiast and gets sent to a boarding school in Paris by her father for a year. She doesn’t know the language and has to make new friends, but she also meets the gorgeous, gorgeous American-French boy with a British accent (yes, I know), Étienne St. Clair. Sad thing is that they’re both kind of taken, of course. We wouldn’t have a book if people could just get together as soon as they recognise that the attraction is mutual, right?

I recognise that the book has a lot of issues. I mean, it’s a first world problem book, and that’s something you just have to live with if you’re going to read it. Anna realises that she’s being sent to the Most Amazing City In The World™ (I’ll get back to this later) and a boarding school only open to rich Americans, yet she has the nerve to cry about it. She begs her father to up her weekly allowance because she doesn’t have enough money for proper food, yet she goes to the cinema six times a week. It’s kind of terrible.

She’s also terribly stupid and has that (admittedly stereotypical) ‘American teenager with enough privilege to ignore the rest of the world‘ air about her. I’m still seething that she didn’t know how to write s’il vous plait (instead writing see voo play and having a friend correct it) or even oui (“The only French word I know is oui, which means “yes,” and only recently did I learn it’s spelled o- u- i and not w- e- e.”) or that in her 17 years, she hasn’t realised that her family motto, tout pourvoir, is French. (“Argh, I don’t know. I always assumed it was in Latin or some other dead language.”) I mean, could you not have Googled a few basic things before making myself, the reader, think that you’re incredibly stupid? She's everything that's wrong with America, in one person.

Étienne – St. Clair as he’s known most of the book, is nice. He’s passionate about history and awfully kind, good-looking, afraid of heights and being left alone. He might be a bit too perfect, but I’ll let that slide since his description is through the eyes of a girl that loves her. All in all, I liked him. I also liked the rest of the people in their little group of friends – Josh, Rashmi and Mer. They’re all quite likeable and aren’t totally cookie-cutter in their personalities, and they don’t even warm up to Anna the New Girl right away. I don’t have complaints about them. I especially want to mention artsy Josh, who skips classes and draws and is generally super nice. I liked him.

The ‘bad guys’ of the school are very, very stereotypical, however. There’s the popular, pretty girl who hates the main character just because she gets along with the cutest guy in school. There’s the jock who just likes to drink and party and has little to no personality other than to be an asshole. They were just that forgettable, with super generic names like Amanda and… David or something. You know the type, I’m sure.

As for the plot, it’s mostly nice. It flows well and has a good balance of carrot and stick – Anna’s problems and the times things actually work out. The main conflict however is messy and had me skipping lines because I saw where it was going and didn’t really care about the description when it did. There are some bright moments that made me smile but on the other hand there are also very boring ones. For an example, there’s a very generic ‘getting drunk’ scene that could belong to any single movie or book aimed towards teen audiences. Bleh.

The book is set in Paris and I think I have to admit that’s why I picked it up to begin with. I wanted to see if it was Paris with rude people and croissants and a constant hurry and too high a rent or Paris with dreams and croissants and art and all that magic they claim the city has, the American fantasy. Of course, I was disappointed. I kind of wish the book had been set in, say Amsterdam or Vienna (this just because these are my personal favourites, cities I’d love to set a book in because they’re just so curious), or that it was actually set in Paris, fully and truly embracing the beautiful city and not just a dull tourist stereotype.

Anna and the French Kiss is cute YA chick lit, that’s all there is to it. I knew this coming in and I mostly enjoyed the read. I kind of want to give this four out of five, but that would put it on the same line as books like Laughter in the Darkness and Water For Elephants, books I liked more unconditionally than this one. Also, I talked to my friend on Skype and she told me to burn this book, so I can’t really give it more than a three. But if you happen to stand first world problems and want some cute romance set in a fairy tale city… go for it.

All the Bright Places - Jennifer Niven

“I remember running down a road on my way to a nursery of flowers. I remember her smile and her laugh when I was my best self and she looked at me like I could do no wrong and was whole. I remember how she looked at me the same way even when I wasn’t. I remember her hand in mine and how that felt, as if something and someone belonged to me.”

I don’t know what I expected from All The Bright Places anymore. I mean, the synopsis begins with the line ‘When Finch and Violet meet on the ledge of the bell tower at school, it’s unclear who saves whom,’ and it sounds great. (Bell tower at a school though? I just rolled with it) I don’t know what and why but either way, it sounded nice. It sounded interesting, it sounded special. In the author’s note, Jennifer Niven mentions that she wanted to write an ‘edgy’ novel, a YA novel, a novel about personal pain (I wouldn’t have known this just reading the book, sadly). Was it all those things? I suppose you know where I’m getting at.

Meet Ultraviolet Remarkey-able – and I wish so bad I was kidding about that name but sadly I’m not. I mean, I kind of found the nickname cute in that terrible, dorky way that makes you want to cringe, at first anyway. But I lost count how many times the Hot Reckless Boy^TM of the book repeats it. And I mean, it honestly made me cringe every single time so I hope you feel my pain here. Violet recently lost her sister, Violet is depressed, unfairly pretty, a cheerleader, a writer, quirky and popular. I kind of liked Violet. I had nothing against her depressed quirkiness. I think. Oh, also, Violet makes a webzine designed to help teenagers with all their problems, because she’s kind of saintly like that. It’s mostly irrelevant to the plot but relevant to my annoyance so there you go.

Theodore Finch is the mandatory hot reckless guy. He’s bipolar, suicidal, unreliable and hot, basically everything you could expect from a discount hot guy. Want to know the worst part of his character, though? He does not sound like a 18-year old. I mean, he quotes Virginia Woolf (some of it with the help of Google, which did make me chuckle) and writes Violet poetry on email. He writes songs and to top it off, he also talks like someone from the 19^th century. I’ll get back to his ultimately annoying poetry when I’m ready to spoil the ending for you.

The book claims to be the story of both of these characters, but I believe it was the story of Violet more than anything. She was characterised more strongly, and she got the focus most of the way. I don’t mind – she was more likeable than pretentious Finch whom the end made me hate more than anything. I'm not going to go into detail about the plot - they're forced to be friends and fall in love, naturally. The plot lacks actual conflict, and I was just constantly waiting, waiting and waiting.

I’ve seen people compare this book to The Fault in Our Stars, and I’m fairly sure the synopsis brought this up as well. It's not out of nowhere, either - we have the atmosphere of death, the girl whose name is a colour, the guy whose name is right-up ridiculous and to top it off, they do not sound like teenagers in the slightest with their metaphors and carefully constructed sentences. Of course, All the Bright Places loses in this comparison by miles – the plot was dull and lacked the tension of TFIOS most of the way through, the characters didn’t sound beautifully poetic but annoyingly so, and most importantly, TFIOS did it first. All the Bright Places is in this sense a Monday copy, a lookalike mimicking the success of a wildly better book – and I’m not even a TFIOS fangirl, believe it or not.

The weird thing is that I enjoyed the book, mostly. It was around the time Finch runs six miles frantically to get Violet flowers (violets, naturally) and where I took the quote at the top of the page from that I started to think, ‘Wait a minute. Do I actually enjoy these characters, because they’re kind of starting to piss me off right now?’ From there it was all downhill and the last tenth of the book (audiobooks make me measure weirdly, I know), I just forced myself to chug it down so that I could write a review about it and finally, thankfully read something else. I hope this doesn’t mean I’m getting over my YA phase because there are at least 50 more YA novels I’d like to read and enjoy.

…So anyway, the ending. The ending. Finch dies – it’s not surprising per se, but it was badly built and the tempo of the book didn’t give it the importance it could have had. I wish to draw another parallel to TFIOS here – it’s the same ‘this even is so important I’ll just say it’ kind of plot development. Finch actually commits suicide by drowning, and before he does, he leaves Violet fucking cryptic Facebook messages filled with poems to talk about the places he visited before fucking killing himself. I am so annoyed by the premise of this that the wannabe cuteness of Violet visiting all these places and seeing the signs he left behind didn’t make me awww or feel bittersweet or anything. I was just so done.

Violet also writes pretty little poetry for Finch after he’s dead and I continue to be so done. We pretend to see Violet pick up the pieces of her broken life but I think Niven was too afraid to actually give us an actual look at her future, so we get half-assed little glimpses instead. I don’t think this was the right time to ~leave it up to the reader~, honestly.

I think this is where the book goes wrong for me. I mean, the author wants to get across the message that suicide is serious, that I should feel sorry for Finch, who felt like he had no other option. But honestly? His life didn’t seem that bad to me and half the book was from his POV so I should know. He seemed to be kind of getting it together and then he spends a week or so visiting all the cool sights of Indiana (this makes sense in the context, sort of) and writing poetry. Then he kills himself, and I don’t feel sorry for him, and I think he had a choice, and I think he was an annoying asshole. I’m just so upset by this, ugh. Like Everything, Everything, this is another audio book I’ll be returning to Audible, because I honestly did not like it.

Also! There’s going to be a movie based on this book, apparently! I can't express how much complaining I'll be doing when it actually comes out. *sigh*

On other news, I picked up Never Always Sometimes as my next project, and so far it seems like a fairly typical high school novel with unquirky, actually teenager-like main characters. I’m content with my life choices right now, but I still can’t recommend All the Bright Places to you.