The Lost Girl: A Close-Up Review

"Eva's life is not her own. She is a creation, an abomination—an echo. She was made by the Weavers as a copy of someone else, expected to replace a girl named Amarra, her "other," if she ever died. Eva spends every day studying that girl from far away, learning what Amarra does, what she eats, what it's like to kiss her boyfriend, Ray. So when Amarra is killed in a car crash, Eva should be ready.

But sixteen years of studying never prepared her for this.

Now she must abandon everything and everyone she's ever known—the guardians who raised her, the boy she's forbidden to love—to move to India and convince the world that Amarra is still alive.

What Eva finds is a grief-stricken family; parents unsure how to handle this echo they thought they wanted; and Ray, who knew every detail, every contour of Amarra. And when Eva is unexpectedly dealt a fatal blow that will change her existence forever, she is forced to choose: Stay and live out her years as a copy or leave and risk it all for the freedom to be an original. To be Eva.

From debut novelist Sangu Mandanna comes the dazzling story of a girl who was always told what she had to be—until she found the strength to decide for herself." (from Goodreads)

The Lost Girl by Sangu Mandanna

Premise/worldbuilding: 

The basic premise of The Lost Girl: Eva was created to be a replica of someone else, and when that girl dies, Eva is forced to leave everyone she cares about to take up a completely new, fake life. The process of creating these "Echoes" is described in a rather vague, artistic, romanticized way in this first book, and I'm hoping to get more answers in the sequel. The expression "dust and bones" is used to describe what the Echoes are made from, but Eva also mentions "cells" at some point. Considering she is an exact look-alike for Amarra, and she appears to have "inherited" certain traits from Amarra's mother, I figure there must be some sort of manipulation at the genetic level going on. This process has been going on for something like 200 years, so I'm assuming that this is either set in an alternate reality or the future (as far as I recall it isn't made clear).

You'll have to suspend some disbelief for this one, because aspects of the worldbuilding strain credulity. For instance, the idea that Eva's consciousness is linked to Amarra's (as evidenced by dream-sharing) or the fact that the Weavers only implant the Echoes with a tracker once they're needed as a replacement. (Why don't they just stick trackers in them when they create the Echoes, so they can keep tabs on them from the very beginning and don't have to worry about escape attempts and that sort of thing?)

I was also a little skeptical about how the Weavers' job fits into the society. People know about the Echoes, but there are a lot of rumors, and the Echoes need to remain hidden so that vigilante hunters don't find and kill them. I'm not sure how feasible it would be to have people hiding these individual clones all over the place and hiring tutors/trainers for them. The whole thing is a bit far-fetched if you think about it in practical terms.

I thought the setting of India could have been highlighted more. From time to time certain aspects are mentioned (for example, the crowdedness) but I didn't feel like I was immersed in India, unfortunately.

Characters: 

Matthew: he may well be my favourite character of the book. I really loved him — he just brims with personality. He's so over-the-top sinister, with this dark sense of humor and a real bite to his words. His bravado, overwhelming self-confidence and suave style make him very entertaining. Admittedly, sometimes it's hard to take everything he's saying seriously — personally I didn't find him that scary — but at the same time you don't want to get on his bad side, because I expect he could back up his words. Matthew has a really acerbic, cynical way of looking at the world. He always acts like he's very much in control, even though it is sometimes all just a pretense. I definitely want to see more of him and his past to understand how he became who he is, and I'd love to see more of how he actually feels about Eva. Everything goes according to his whims, and he plays games a lot with people, but I think there is a kernel of emotion buried deep within him of the memory of love.

Eva: she's a little flatter than Matthew (although not necessarily in a bad way) — more timid, more naive. She definitely sees the darker side of life; I'd venture to say she's a pessimist, and often comes across as depressed, cautious, sad or morose. I think she views her situation quite realistically and realizes how hard things are going to be for her as well as Amarra's family. Since she's not the cheeriest narrator, it's a bit of a slog, being in her head. We can see from her perspective how difficult everything is for her. But I don't think there's any way you couldn't sympathize and align yourself with her because her situation is so bleak, and not of her own making.

Eva changes somewhat throughout, in both positive and negative ways. In the beginning she seems more objective, but she also sort of objectifies herself. I think she sees herself as something that's being used and she's okay with going along with it because she believes that's her purpose. But then as the book progresses she really starts to develop a sense of self and identity, standing alone from Amarra, and placing her own wants and needs above the Weavers' and her "destiny". She begins taking control of her life, not as content to sit back and let the Weavers do as they like.

Unlike Matthew, Eva has a real talent for assessing situations accurately, reading people and their emotions, and understanding others' perspectives. However, I think her ability to see both sides of an issue diminishes somewhat in the later part of the book, because she becomes so focused on her own survival that she starts to put other things in jeopardy. It seems like she starts to see this ability as a weakness/liability, since it means she's thinking about others' happiness and safety, which might make her less likely to prioritize her own. She gets a little overdramatic towards the end, becoming more of a typical YA protagonist, so in that regard I liked her better at the beginning. It almost feels like she's regressing in a way, behaving like an "angsty teen" as she lets her emotions leak to the surface — although perhaps it's also partly due to the fact that as the story goes on she's put in increasingly dangerous situations with greater stakes.

I can understand why she gets so desperate to save herself above all else, though, and in many ways I did like her a lot. She's very observant of both herself and others, and she places loyalty to friends quite high on her list of priorities. Despite the fact she's an Echo, she obviously has emotions and has really come to care about these people in her life — and she does the same for several of the people she meets in India.

Sean: he struck me as a lot more mature than 16, but I liked his romance with Eva. They're friends first, but at the same time it's a "forbidden" romance. He's her protector, someone she's known for the past couple years, whom she has grown quite close to and feels she can rely on. It's obvious he respects her as an individual and doesn't care that she's an Echo — he recognizes that she's her own person. To Eva, he feels like home to her; she feels safe and completely at ease with him. It's great to see that even if time and distance comes between them, they can pick up again where they left off and still have that connection.

Their opportunities for romantic interludes in Part 3 are limited because they're on the run, but they are obviously very devoted to each other. They feel so intensely about the other person that there doesn't need to be a lot of sexual stuff, because it's so clear that they're on the same page emotionally. (And when they do kiss, oh yeah...) They both want to protect each other, and it's nice to see that equality and balance in a relationship — that the girl doesn't always feel like she needs to be the one getting saved, and when she does get saved, it isn't always by the guy.

More minor characters: we don't get to know most of the side characters very well, but I liked what I saw of Eva's friend, Lekha, and I hope her character will get fleshed out in future books. We don't get to see her that often, but when we do her lighthearted nature and eccentricities burst off the page. She's quite unintentionally funny, and it helped to have that humour lightening things up, since the general tone of the story is rather bleak. I love the way she makes up and confuses words!

Themes:

The themes The Lost Girl raises are fantastic, many of which echo Frankenstein, unsurprisingly. The Lost Girl touches on topics like: the ethics of creating life/playing God; nature vs. nurture; artifice vs. reality, and where the lines blur between pretense and truth; what family means; the power people who have died can still have on those who remain; the rights of a clone; the issues surrounding the decision to make a copy of your child and the emotional repercussions of that. This last I found particularly mind-stretching. If you order a copy of your child to be made (in case your child dies) does that prove your love, or does that prove you think they can be copied? Is it a stronger proof of your love for them if you let them go and don't get a copy, or if you love them so badly and are so desperate not to lose them that you want them in any form? Wouldn't it hurt more if you see someone who looks like your child every day and yet know, deep down, that it isn't them? I'd think so. I don't really understand the mindset of someone who would want to risk living with a copy who isn't the real thing, but it's certainly a very complicated, fascinating decision.

Given the potential for these themes to spark discussion questions, I think this would be a great pick for older YA readers (grades 10-12), perhaps even as a companion book to read alongside Frankenstein.

Plot: 

The first two sections of the book are relatively slow. In Part 1, the author introduces the reader to the world and Eva, and all of the challenges Eva grapples with just in being who she is. Part 2 thrusts Eva into India and having to fake a new life, so we see a lot of typical daily activities for a high-schooler. It's only in Part 3 that the pace picks up and things become more gripping. Overall, it isn't action-packed, but there are a few scenes that involve a lot of action, tension or both (mostly in the later part of the book). 

As with the worldbuilding, some suspension of disbelief is needed for the plot. There are some plot holes and far-fetched scenes. Spoilery examples, highlight to read: if being an Echo is illegal in India, how did Eva get the entire school not to squeal on her? The majority of them didn't like her, so I find it hard to believe that no one went to the police. And I thought it was a stretch that the hunter trusted high school kids about Eva's identity as an Echo...it seemed to cross the natural adult-teen divide in an implausible way. In particular, one element of the climactic scene gave me pause. Spoilers: I thought the plan involving the knife and Ophelia was pretty lame, and the scene at the stairs was not believable. Seriously, the guard could've disarmed Eva in a second if he wanted to...why would he feel threatened by a 17-year-old with a knife she doesn't know how to use? She didn't even have the knife at Ophelia's throat, just the flat of the blade pressed against her ribs! That said, I appreciated the twist with Ophelia's death.

Writing style:

The writing is first-class quality. While Sangu Mandanna uses some techniques I'm not a fan of (for instance, a bunch of short sentences all in a row), I think she gets across her points really well, and not usually in a preachy or condescending way, despite the fact that she's dealing with a lot of heavy issues. It's handled very maturely, coming off as more of an adult writing style than typical YA. She definitely doesn't spoon-feed the reader.

It's written from Eva's POV, but it's a bit of a distant first-person. A narrator discussing herself in 3rd-person can be a rookie mistake on the part of a debut author, but I don't think that's the case here. The more distant perspective works because Eva sees herself as a copy to be used, with a purpose she needs to fulfill. While she recognizes she has qualities that separate her from Amarra and make her different, she still sees herself (at least initially) as something that was created for a reason, rather than as a person in her own right.

The writing can seem a little overly dramatic in places, but Mandanna has an ear for a poetic turn of phrase and there are some very quotable sections.

Final verdict: 4 shooting stars.

 

The Storyteller: A Close-Up Review (Adult/New Adult)

"Sage Singer, who befriends an old man who's particularly beloved in her community. Josef Weber is everyone favorite retired teacher and Little League coach and they strike up a friendship at the bakery where Sage works. One day he asks Sage for a favor: to kill him. Shocked, Sage refuses…and then he confesses his darkest secret - he deserves to die, because he was a Nazi SS guard. Complicating the matter? Sage's grandmother is a Holocaust survivor.

What do you do when evil lives next door? Can someone who's committed a truly heinous act ever atone for it with subsequent good behavior? Should you offer forgiveness to someone if you aren't the party who was wronged? And most of all - if Sage even considers his request - is it murder, or justice?" (from Goodreads) 

The Storyteller by Jodi Picoult

Characters:

Sage: I actually really disliked Sage in the first part of this book. I'm not sure if this is intentional on the author's part, or if we were supposed to find her character sympathetic, but whatever the case, the result was that I just could not make myself like her. She seemed to me to be very self-effacing, in an artificial 'woe is me' kind of way, from how she felt about her scarred face (which she was really hung up on) to the reasons behind her sleeping with a married man. This latter decision of hers probably lost her the most respect with me, because I can forgive a character a fair number of things, but adultery is something I find it very difficult to get on board with. She knew full well that this guy was married, and yet she carried on this affair with him anyway. I'm sorry, but ugh.

To be fair, Sage does improve in the last third of the book, taking some initiative to make changes in her life, gaining more self-confidence, and earning back some of my respect. Her character development is due in part to what she absorbs from the story her grandmother tells her, as it helps Sage put everything into perspective, but also to the fact that she begins a relationship with another (thankfully, unmarried!) guy. This underlying message of 'you can feel good about yourself once you've got a guy's approval' didn't sit that well with me, though.

Also, I would like to note that although Sage is 25, to me her voice sounded too mature for her age — more like someone in her thirties. Technically since she is in her twenties I'm counting this one as qualifying for the "New Adult" challenge, but I don't think it captures the voice of a 25-year-old very realistically.

Minka: Sage's grandmother, on the other hand, is so much easier to like. Her story, told in Part 2, was probably my favourite section of the book (ironically, since it's the part that deals with all of the atrocities of the Holocaust). Minka is a relatable character you have to feel sorry for, and yet she demonstrates her strength and perseverance time and again.

Josef: I can't really discuss him without spoilers. Suffice it to say that the glimpses we're given indicate that he's a very interesting, complex character, and I wish we'd been able to see more of his perspective.

Premise/themes: 

I suspect one of the author's objectives in writing The Storyteller was to cast light on some of the shades of grey involved in the events and people of the Holocaust. Whether she actually succeeds in this, I'm less certain. I wish Picoult had explored the larger system and the elements of social psychology that shaped and exacerbated the behaviour of the Nazis. Instead, she mostly focuses on a few individuals, reducing it to a question of "Can someone be truly good or truly evil, or is everyone just a mix?" Sure, you can have that conversation all day long, but it's still only looking at the topic through one lens. Since I got my degree in psychology, and took a course in applied social psych, I know that social psychology played a critical role in bringing about the atrocities of the Holocaust. I'm sure it was not the only factor, but let's face it: there were a lot of individuals involved in making sure the "Nazi machine" operated smoothly, and they couldn't all have been sadistic psychopaths. I would have appreciated more exploration of the idea — a fundamental tenet of social psychology theory — that rather than behaviour being attributed to "bad apples" (i.e. "evil" individuals) it can be attributed to "bad barrels" (the environment affecting the individuals). (In terms of the Holocaust specifically, personally I'm inclined to think that there were probably a few apples that had already gone bad, but there was definitely something wrong with the barrels, too.)

This is not to say that Picoult paints all the Germans with the same brush. She takes steps to make sure this is not the case, and the German individuals we are presented with fall in a variety of places on the 'moral spectrum', from the lacking-a-conscience Reiner, to the more ambiguous Franz, to the downright helpful Herr Bauer, Herr Fassbinder, and anonymous farmer's wife. Not all of the Jewish characters are "perfect" either, case in point being Sage herself, of course.

I also thought the author brought up an important point about forgiveness — that it helps the person doing the forgiving more than the one who wants/needs it. Nothing I haven't heard before, but it's still a great point to raise in the context of the story. Whether or not forgiveness is possible from someone you did not directly wrong is also introduced as an interesting discussion.

Ania's story, which appears in excerpts throughout, does a great job of highlighting many of the themes that underlie the novel as a whole. Concepts of brotherhood, friendship, duty, honour, compassion, helplessness, guilt, and shame are presented in a folktale fashion.

Plot:

I found Part 1 to be rather boring, and you already know how I felt about Sage, so initially The Storyteller and I were off to a pretty slow start. I was a little worried I was going to DNF it, frankly, but then I got to Part 2. I didn't realize The Storyteller was going to go into that much detail about a survivor's Holocaust experience, but Minka's story is one of the most compelling aspects of the book — gripping, intense, horrifying, and engrossing. When Part 3 returned to the modern-day characters and plot, I was initially not that thrilled about it, but I was feeling more invested in the story by this point — and then I guessed the twist and had to keep reading to see if I was right. (I so was.)

If you're finding Part 1 to be slow-going and you're fed up with Sage, I definitely recommend you stick it out until Part 2. I'd also suggest taking breaks with this book. It's hardly a surprise, seeing as this book deals with the Holocaust, but Part 2 in particular is bleak, depressing, and densely packed with information. It's certainly not a quick, easy read. I would like to note, though, that Picoult does an excellent job of integrating all of the information into Minka's personal story. While I think Jodi Picoult did her research about the conditions of the concentration camps, what she presents us with is more than just a set of facts. We come to care about Minka as a person.

Partway through Part 3 I started to suspect what the twist was, but I was kept guessing, never totally sure until the revelation actually occurred. I'm glad what I suspected turned out to be the case, because it nicely ties in the story of the two brothers, Reiner and Franz, as well as the tale involving Ania that is interspersed throughout. It also makes this one of those books where a second read-through might be a different kind of experience, now that you know the twist.

I kind of wish there had been more closure with Josef and Minka, but closure is not always possible in real life. I wasn't really sure how to feel about Sage's ultimate decision (spoiler, highlight to read: to help Josef die, but not to forgive him), but it's certainly an interesting choice. The ending seemed a little abrupt to me; I thought more could have been wrapped up, as we don't really know what's going to happen to Sage. Still, it ends a bit unsettlingly (spoiler: on yet another lie!), leaving the reader with some food for thought.

Final verdict: 4 shooting stars. 

Disclaimer: I received an ARC for review from the publisher.

Note: this is an adult book and there is a lot of mature content.

This book counts towards my goal for the "New Adult" challenge.

Nothing: Review

"Nothing matters. I have known that for a long time. So nothing is worth doing. I just realized that." When Pierre Anthon decides there is no meaning to life, he climbs up a plum tree and won't come back down. Determined to prove him wrong, his classmates begin a game of making each other give up the one item they care about the most. At first it's small things - a fishing rod, a soccer ball, a pair of green sandals - but soon the items escalate in value. Yet the quest for meaning continues despite the price being paid, all to one end: show Pierre Anthon that some things do matter. When he sees what they have given up, will he finally admit that they are right? And if he does - will it make any difference?

Nothing is a book that makes you think. There are a whole host of deep issues and questions raised in this book that you'll be pondering long after you've finished it. It's simple and gripping and twisted.

Questions continually bubble to the surface as you read this book. What would you most hate to lose in your life? How would you react if someone took it away from you? What if it was something you could never get back? How do you define 'meaning' - and can you put a price on it? Does everyone know when something is significant?


Characters:

The tale is told from the point of view of Agnes, one of several Grade 7 students in a class in the fictional town of Taering, Denmark. We don't find out until a few chapters in who the narrator is (or even if it is a boy or a girl), which distracted me a bit. However, Agnes does an excellent job narrating this type of story. Ordinarily I would wish for a closer understanding of the protagonist - we don't really get much of a sense of her personality - but the point of the book isn't Agnes. It isn't even Pierre Anthon. Agnes distances herself from the action, takes her role out of it, and in this way we see how each individual contributes as a member of a group. She speaks in 'we' form repeatedly, emphasizing a singular plural nature, as though all the children thought as one entity. While I would have liked to have seen how Agnes individually reacted to some of the events, I see how it might have taken away from the tone and message. Also, Agnes' distanced tone ratchets up the mysterious and disturbing nature of everything that unfolds.


Writing style:

Generally, the writing style worked really well to hook the reader in and keep them reading. It's meant to be a bit of a thriller, in a way, and I found myself needing to finish it so I knew the ending. The one aspect of the writing style I didn't like was when synonyms or comparative/superlative adjectives were used - they seemed sort of out of place. For instance, "Blue. Bluer. Bluest." If this had happened a few times, I probably wouldn't have minded so much, but she did it to the point of excess, where it ceased to pack a powerful punch.

Of course, this is translated from the Danish, so that may explain it.

Plot:

The plot is simple but effective, but I wasn't too clear on the ending. No spoilers here, but I was left with some questions about exactly what happened. However, given what the book was about...perhaps that was intentional?

Also, there is some suspension of disbelief required on the part of the reader. Otherwise, all the practical sorts of questions will start occurring to you. Like, how is it feasible for Pierre Anthon to stay in the plum tree for months (without starving?) Where do his parents and teachers think he is? Where are all the other kids' parents, and aren't they getting suspicious about items going missing? However, do your best to ignore these practical concerns - they'll just distract you from an otherwise extremely engaging read. And anyway, if the author had mentioned all of those nitpicky details, it would have somehow lessened the impact of the important elements of the story.

Themes:

So many topics are tackled in this short book: the innocence of children, or lack thereof as the case may be; the desire to be right, regardless of the consequences; the fleeting nature of our own mortality; the desperate need for meaning in our lives. Best of all, Janne Teller isn't preachy - indeed, I'm not at all sure that she's even trying to send a particular message in her novel. I think if anything, the author just wanted to get her readers to question their beliefs about life, death, friendship, and meaning.

Creepy factor:

Nothing's been compared to Lord of the Flies, but I'd say that it's more. Yes, it deals with issues of peer pressure, of children's behaviour snowballing out of control, and there is no parental influence to be found - but with Lord of the Flies I was just sickened, disgusted, and depressed. I felt all those emotions with Nothing too, but I got a good deal more out of it. It speaks to larger philosophical and psychological issues, and it handles them in a way that is less clear-cut than Lord of the Flies. It was pretty obvious what William Golding's point was; Janne Teller is a little more ambiguous.

That said, I have to say this is the most disturbing book I've read in quite a while. It is a YA but I would only recommend it to older readers of that age range. I could see this book having a stronger emotional impact than a lot of books that contain much more violence (and this book definitely contains some). Would definitely NOT read it before bed either!

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 shooting stars. Read if you want to think hard about philosophical questions and be creeped out psychologically. NOT for younger readers.