I'm pretty sure my mom handed me a copy of Dicey's Song during one of our summer reading list deals. Surely you're familiar with the concept. I read so many of the books on the list and she, in turn, gave me some sort of reward. You see this was back in the pre-Chronicles of Narnia phase in my life. The early days when I would rather be rolling down hills or jumping on beds than reading during the summer. Frankly, it's hard for me to look back now and remember such a time even existed. I'm pretty sure it was a list from the local library and that most of the books on it were award winners of some sort. As Dicey's Song was the Newbery winner for 1983, it was definitely on the list. Looking back I'm actually glad I didn't pick it up that summer. Instead I held out long enough to have fallen in love with reading a year or two later as well as discover that it was actually the second book in a series of seven. The Tillerman Cycle follows the four Tillerman kids on their journey in search of home. The entire series is spectacular and covers quite a span of years, at times following close family friends and, in one instance, a relative before returning to the original four in the concluding volume--Seventeen Against the Dealer. This final book is the one I'd like to focus on today because I think it hasn't gotten the attention it deserves. I'm still unable to pick my favorite of the series. Dicey's Song is an absolute classic and A Solitary Blue is breathtaking (and won the Newbery Honor a year later). But Seventeen Against the Dealer grips my heart every time I re-read it and is an all too rare example of an author managing to end a long-ish series flawlessly.

Dicey is now 21 years old. Having raised her three siblings in almost every sense of the word, she is now ready for that independence she's been longing for for so long. James is dealing with colleges and scholarships. Maybeth is taking care of Gram and keeping the house together. Sammy is playing enough tennis for four teenage boys. And Jeff is away at school. The perfect time for Dicey to stretch her wings and open that boat business she's always wanted to. After sinking every penny she ever earned into setting up shop and accumulating the necessary tools, Dicey spends all day every day working to pay her rent, with precious few moments leftover to craft that perfect boat she has in her head. In fact, Dicey spends the majority of her time in her own head now. She's always been introverted but she takes it to a new level here, unable to really bring anything else into focus. In the meantime, several important things go by the wayside. Her siblings need her but fear to intrude. Jeff tries to maintain their relationship, give her space at the same time, and not lose himself in the force of Dicey's indomitable will. After her shop is broken into, Dicey reluctantly admits she needs help and takes in a drifter by the name of Cisco Kidd who may be just what he says he is. Or he may turn out to be much, much more than that.

A favorite excerpt:

Jeff had finished the song. Before he could start another, and before Dicey could answer that question, Mina called across to him, "You know what I want to hear? A long song."

"What kind of love song?" Jeff asked. "True love? Love betrayed? Love lost, faithless love, or false love?"

"Let's go for true love," Mina laughed. "Never mind the odds."

Jeff looked at Maybeth, who nodded at him. He started to play a song Dicey had never heard before, but before she could wonder, Maybeth was singing. "'The first time ever I saw your face,'." Maybeth sang to a guitar accompaniment as single and clear as the golden voice Maybeth cast out around the room, where--like the animated drawing of a ribbon--it curled around and around everyone, then tied itself into a perfect bow. The song brought tears into Mina's eyes, Dicey saw, and had Phil Milson sitting so still, watching and listening so hard, that you could almost see the way the beating of his heart pushed the blood up into his cheeks, and turned them pink.

Maybeth sang, "'I thought the sun rose in your eyes.'" On the last word, her voice rose up a third and then down and around, a turning of melodic line as smooth as a curving ribbon. "'And the moon, and the stars,'" she sang on, "'were the gifts you gave to the dark and the endless skies...'"

Dicey couldn't remember the first time ever she saw Jeff's face. Jeff's gray eyes, dazed with the song, were on Maybeth. Then he turned to look at Dicey, as if he'd known she was looking at him, and she knew that he did remember the first time he saw her. She thought she ought to be able to remember, but she couldn't, not the time. The season, that she could, but she ought to be able to do better than that. Then she stopped thinking and let the song wind itself around her and pull her into the room to sit on the floor beside him.

All the long afternoon they sang, and talked, and ate, and Dicey didn't think about her boats, the ones she was working on or the ones she was dreaming about, except once, when they came to the line in Momma's old song that said "bring me a boat will carry two." She could see that boat then, as real as if she had already built it.

Voigt's writing wraps itself around me just the way the song wraps around Dicey. I never want to leave. By book seven, I love this family and these characters so much they feel as though they're mine. There' s just something about the Tillermans that' s impossible not to admire. And Dicey herself has long been one of my most beloved characters in all of literature. When I was 12 I wanted to be her so much it hurt. Truth be told, I still want to be her. She tackles her problems with nothing but her own two hands and an inability to fail. She is the definition of tenacity. To a fault sometimes. But she knows what's important and she takes care of her own. That's why it's so beautiful to find this last story was hers alone. And to find that after everything she's been through, she's so far from perfect. She still has things to learn about life and loved ones and not taking any of it for granted. This story is so real in its depiction of the painful entrance to adulthood, the monotonous grind of daily labor, and the process of learning how to love someone the way they need to (and ought to) be loved. It takes my breath away every time. Seventeen Against the Dealer stands on its own, but don't cheat yourself and start with the last. Read all seven books for the full experience. If you're short on time you could probably get by with just the three (Dicey's Song, A Solitary Blue, and this one). But only if you're short...

Retro Friday Round-Up

Bookworm Nation reviews The Face on the Milk Carton

Aaaaand we have a winner! ProdElektra was the first to get all seven first line quotes right. Impressive. Particularly as #5 is out of print and I wasn't at all sure anyone would pick up on it. Speaking of, ProdElektra, how did you know that one? :)

The answers:

1. Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier

2. Silent in the Grave by Deanna Raybourn

3. How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff

4. Westmark by Lloyd Alexander

5. The Road Home by Ellen Emerson White

6. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton

7. How Green Was My Valley by Richard Llewellyn

ProdElektra, make sure to contact me and let me know which book you'd like and your mailing address. I, naturally, recommend them all. Highly. Thanks for playing everyone! What are you favorite first lines? I'd love to hear them.

Mad over at Under the Mad Hat has written a Twitterfied version of Pride and Prejudice. The hilariously talented lady has titled it "Pride and Twitterverse" and it is, in fact, the entire novel as told through a long series of tweets. Those of you on Twitter are guaranteed to find this one particularly funny. My hat off to you, Mad. This is right up there with Emma Thompson's madly witty Golden Globe acceptance speech for her Sense & Sensibility screenplay. In fact, I think I'll go ahead and include that here for your related viewing pleasure. Enjoy!

Edited: I've since been informed there is a Facebook P&P as well as the Twitter one. I should have known....So for all you Facebook peeps, knock yourself out! (It really is hilarious).

Jackie over at Literary Escapism had this First Lines meme up the other day and, because I absolutely love a really killer first line, I figured I'd put one together as well. Jackie included the first lines from a stack of books sitting next to her. I'm going to cheat and give you a few of my all-time favorites. Some are technically the first couple of lines. See if you can guess which books they're from. The first person to get them all right (or the person with the most correct answers) wins! I'll announce the answers and the winner can pick one book from the list of seven.

1. "Three children lay on the rocks at the water's edge. A dark-haired little girl. Two boys, slightly older. This image is caught forever in my memory, like some fragile creature preserved in amber."

2. "To say that I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband's dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching upon the floor."

3. "My name is Elizabeth but no one's ever called me that. My father took one look at me when I was born and must have thought I had the face of someone dignified and sad like an old-fashioned queen or a dead person, but what I turned out like is plain, not much there to notice. More Daisy than Elizabeth from the word go."

4. "Theo, by occupation, was a devil."

5. "On Christmas morning, Rebecca lost her moral virginity, her sense of humor--and her two best friends. But, other than that, it was a hell of a holiday."

6. "When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home."

7. "I am going to pack my two shirts with my other socks and my best suit in the little blue cloth my mother used to tie round her hair when she did the house, and I am going from the Valley."

There you go. Let me know your guesses and, if you put together your own list, I want to see it.

Last week I ran across Brian James' article on judging books by their covers and it got me to thinking. I try not to be a cover snob. I do. I try and fail and try again in the hopes that one of these days I'll learn my lesson. This is a near-constant topic of discussion within the circle of friends and family members I'm constantly pushing books on. A bad cover that conceals treasures within forces you to go on the defensive. I suppose it just hones my bookselling skills but I hate the number of times I've had to say, "Don't let the cover get to you, it's a freaking awesome book. You will love it!" Oftentimes I actually love these covers, but for one reason or another, they're hard to hand other people. The Mercy Thompson series is at the top of this particular list for some reason. I love Daniel dos Santos' cover art. I really do. I'm particularly fond of the cover of Blood Bound.

She just looks like Mercy to me. I love the composition, the way she's standing, the tattoos (even though she doesn't have them all), the whole bit. But Mercy the character wouldn't be caught dead in that particular state of undress. Not out and about at her shop anyway. And when I'm introducing the whole urban fantasy genre to an unsuspecting newbie, it can be hard to get the general gist of the complete and utter awesomeness of the Mercy books across when they're staring doubtfully at the covers.

The same goes for the number of times I've not picked up a book that a large part of me wanted to just because the cover was unappealing in some way. Case in point, the cover for Sharon Shinn's Archangel.

I avoided it for years. Years! Because I thought the girl on the cover looked stupid. And what was up with the feather and the orb and the look on her face? Like she was about to give up the ghost or dissolve in a series of ecstatic shivers. I just couldn't get over my initial impression. This despite the many positive reviews I'd read. It's a powerful instinct, that first judgement call. And now, of course, Archangel is right up there with the Sevenwaters books and Robin McKinley when it comes to my top comfort reads. Serves me right. But I still maintain the Rachel I know and love would never look that overcome by anything. Glowing orb, indeed...

Lastly, there are the simply silly covers. The ones that drive away good readers because they simply can't imagine something weighty or worthwhile or even intriguing inside. It requires too far a stretch of their admittedly stretchy imaginations. Most recent example of this form of cover snobbery--Moira J. Moore's Hero series. Behold:

Too cartooney for words, right? I mean he looks like Lancelot himself and she's polishing his boot for crying out loud! Like some awful parallel version of Beauty and the Beast gone horribly awry. Combine the covers with the titles and I'm near tears trying to get them into good homes. Because these books? These books are good. They have heart. They're funny and extremely moving at times. They have a hero and heroine deserving of your love. Sometimes you pick up a book with a lame cover and you get burned, it's true. But sometimes you make out like bandits. That's how I felt when I went ahead and took this series home.

In his article, James looks at the cover issue from an author's perspective and notes that:

An author's relationship to a book after it's published is a strange one. By the time it hits store shelves, your involvement with it is long gone. It's out in the world on its own. A common metaphor for the experience is that of a parent sending their child out into the world. Taking that metaphor, the cover would be the child's clothing. You want your child to look presentable and you want them to express themselves. Too often books, like kids afraid of not fitting in, are simply dressed to look like everyone else even if that's not who they are on the inside.

What a wonderful analogy as well as a nice reminder. There are so many books deserving of better covers to really show us wishy-washy readers just what's inside and why they're worth taking home with us. For each off-putting cover out there there's an author hoping you'll see past the awkward exterior to the heart of gold inside. May we all be a little more openminded and a little less snobbish in the future.

A quick update. A few people have mentioned liking the whole Retro Fridays idea and possibly wanting to join in. Kath from Bookworm Nation has already got her first post up today as well. She reviews Summer of Monkeys by Wilson Rawls here. I'm tickled others are into the idea and would love to post a round-up of Retro Friday reviews here with mine each week. So if you want to join in simply send me the link to your review and I'll include it in the round-up. My address: angieville.reviews(at)gmail(dot)com. It should be noted that Pattie of Pattinase hosts a similar Friday's Forgotten Books feature so check that out as well if you're interested.

Thanks everyone. You guys rock!

DH is the one I have to thank for first introducing me to Guy Gavriel Kay's body of work. He was a fan of the Fionavar Tapestry and felt sure I would like them. And like them I did. So much so that you will no doubt be hearing more about them at some future Retro Friday date. But for this inaugural edition I felt myself gravitating toward Kay's slightly later work--Tigana. Originally published in 1990, Tigana is an epic romantic fantasy and was nominated for both the World Fantasy Award and the Mythopoeic Fantasy Award. First off, because I am an unabashed cover hound, a look at the changing cover art then and now:

Kay prefaces his story with the following shiver-inducing passage from Dante's Paradiso:

All that you held most dear you will put by

and leave behind you; and this is the arrow

the longbow of your exile first lets fly.

You will come to know how bitter as salt and stone

is the bread of others, how hard the way that goes

up and down stairs that never are your own.

The story takes place in the Peninsula of the Palm--a world based on medieval Italy. Like Italy of old, the Palm is divided up into nine city-states, or provinces, each with its own distinct flavor and character, yet each bound together through the music and art that runs through the veins of the inhabitants. The prologue opens on the eve of battle. The prince of one of the provinces is about to go forth on the morrow to meet the sorceror-king Brandin of Ygrath. Sure that he faces certain death, it is a brief, hushed scene, full of poignance and honor. The story then jumps forward a number of years to a troupe of musicians preparing to perform at the funeral of the Duke of Astibar. Devin d'Asoli, a gifted singer, and his tempestuous female counterpart Catriana d'Astibar are bickering as usual, while the piper Alessan and drummer Eghano tune their instruments and ready for the performance of their lives. As we follow this group of itinerant musicians, it becomes clear that the world has changed significantly. Brandin did indeed win the battle of the prologue, but he paid a high price. His eldest son died in the battle and, in his grief and rage, Brandin not only destroyed the province but utterly wiped away the merest memory of its existence. From that time forward, no one but the people born there could remember or even speak its name. The people of the Palm now live under the shadow of Brandin and his rival conqueror Alberico, both of whom are intent on destroying the other. But as we follow Devin and his friends it also becomes clear that not everyone is who they seem to be and that there is a slow but persistent rebellion growing, the likes of which the world has never seen.

First and foremost, Tigana is an absolute feat of storytelling. It hits every one of my requirements for epic fantasy by combining a fully realized world with nuanced characterization and language so lush you want to wrap yourself up in it. Music and magic form the backbone of the story and pave the way for a detailed and riveting exploration of the meaning of history and valor, right and wrong, and how and where they meet and interlock. In his afterword written for the tenth anniversary edition, Mr. Kay had this to say:

Tigana is in good part a novel about memory: the necessity of it, in cultural terms, and the dangers that come when it is too intense.

Truly this was my favorite aspect of the novel. The thread of cultural memory, how far a people can be pushed before they relinquish it, and what you might be willing to sacrifice to regain it. I loved the depth this thread gave the rest of the novel, but it helped that I fell almost immediately in love with the cast of characters as well. They're the kind of characters you just know are going to break your heart and you might as well be all in because you can also tell they're so worth it. The story bounces back and forth between the Palm and Brandin's home island of Chiara, with the result that the reader is given an unexpectedly intimate view of both the rebels and the tyrant. And neither are purely good or evil. My sympathies were exercised on behalf of both and so, though it is a beautiful read, it is also a painful one as both sides cannot win and it is hard to love or hate either unreservedly. Whenever I read Tigana I am at once in love and conflicted, consumed with near equal parts hope and despair. And when an author can elicit that complex an emotional response without making me feel manipulated, my hat comes off. It's a stunning tale. Recommended for fans of Jacqueline Carey and Patricia McKillip.

Linkage

Bibliophile Stalker Review

Blogging for a Good Book Review

Fantasy Cafe Review

Seven Foot Shelves Review

So I'm starting a new feature called Retro Fridays, in which each Friday I'll be reviewing a book from the past. This will generally be an old favorite, an under-the-radar book I think deserves more attention, something woefully out of print, etc. In this way I hope to be able to spend a little precious blog-time discussing a few reads that are *gasp* Not Brand New. They will also come from a slightly wider variety of genres and perhaps give us a chance to talk about reading influences, reader's nostalgia, and other topics near and dear to my heart. First review will be up tomorrow. Hope you enjoy!

These are Mira's UK covers for Deanna Raybourn's Lady Julia Grey series and I want! I've always been a sucker for a matched set and these are just so delightful and fun. Particularly in light of the fact that my original copies will always and forever be hodgepodge as they made a major series cover art shift with the release of Silent on the Moor. Sigh. I particularly like the "A wickedly witty Lady Julia Grey mystery" tagline on the second two. But since these are only available in the UK, the total cost is currently prohibitive. So for now I will simply covet from afar...

Once I read this story in The New York Times, I knew there was no way I wasn't going to post a link to it on the blog. I've chosen it for my Giggles feature this week but I must give you fair warning that, while it made me giggle several times, it also made me cry. In the best possible way. Trust me, you do not want to miss this single dad's account of raising his 4-year-old little girl.

Enjoy.

(Thanks so much to Gina for the link!)

I seem to be making the rounds lately! Today you can find me over at Jo's fantasy book blog Ink and Paper, where she so graciously posted a book blog interview with yours truly. Jo is a lovely hostess and let me natter on about which books got me into reading, which ones I recommend you read, and how I go about the blogging thing. Once again, we'd love to have you drop by.