Book Review: The Clone Codes

The Clone Codes
by Patricia C. McKissack, Frederick L. McKissack, and John McKissack

I wanted to like this book. I'm always on the lookout for good young adult science fiction, and this looked perfect: a future where clones are created as servants, with safeguards and restrictions genetically built in to make them the perfect slaves. Thirteen-year-old Leanna grows up believing that clones are less than human, until her mother is arrested for being part of the radical Liberty Bell movement that is working to prove that clones are equal and should be free.

This is the kind of thing that science fiction does so well: explore sociological themes in a subtle way that can open us up to thinking about our own society in a new way. However, this book has all the subtlety of a brick wall. From the opening scene, in which Leanna is participating through school in a virtual re-enactment of an Underground Railroad escape led by Harriet Tubman, it's clear that this book is intended to teach, both about history and about the evils of slavery. This is not science fiction; it's a lesson that's not very cleverly disguised as science fiction.

It's not even very well written, which surprised me since the authors (at least, two of the three of them) have won multiple major awards. The writing style is choppy, the story and character development simplistic, and there's an awful lot of "telling" when there should be "showing." There are multiple plot inconsistencies. Minor ones, to be sure, but it was enough to annoy me. I don't understand how such acclaimed authors could have written such a book, but when I look at their bio, apparently their other books have been non-fiction. I guess that there must be a big enough difference between non-fiction writing and fiction writing -- science fiction in particular -- that skill in one area doesn't necessarily translate into skill in the other. I did wonder whether the short sentences and simplistic plot were intended to address those with reading challenges, however the press materials that Scholastic sent don't say that, and I think even kids with reading challenges will spot the too-obvious lessons in this book.

I don't normally post a review when I can't say anything good about a book. I figure that every author pours their heart and soul into a book, and no author deserves to have their work publicly trashed. If I can't find enough good to say about a book, I usually decline to review it, which I guess makes my reviews more recommendations than reviews.

However, there were a couple of things that annoyed me enough about this book to make me want to post this. The first is the apparent assumption that science fiction is easy to write, and any writer can jump on board and write science fiction. I have spent my life reading science fiction and fantasy, starting in elementary school. I took a college lit class on science fiction. I've studied YA fantasy and science fiction pretty intensely over the last several years in my roles as both blogger and publisher focusing on the genre. And I can tell you that there's nothing easy about writing science fiction. It's probably one of the hardest genres to write well. You have to have all the literary skills required to write any fiction, but in addition you have to have believable world-building and credible science. You have to develop characters that may be very different from us, such as non-human species or genetically modified clones, and yet make it possible for the human reader to understand and identify with them. If you include sociological themes, you have to do it in a subtle, thought-provoking way, and not hit the reader over the head. Books like The Clone Codes are just disrespectful to the genre.

The other thing that annoys me is that I feel that this book wouldn't have been published if the authors hadn't been award-winning, well-known authors. If this book had come in the slush pile, an editor wouldn't have gotten past the first page. With the limited number of books being published, that this one was published means that another book, maybe more well-deserving but with an unknown author, was not.

FTC required disclosure: I received a review copy of The Clone Codes from the publisher. The Amazon.com links above are Amazon Associate links, and I earn a very small percentage of any sales made through the links. Neither of these things influenced my review.

Thinking about two different vacation reads (Little Brother and The Adoration of Jenna Fox)

Last week I was on vacation, and I was looking for some great books to take with me to enjoy on the trip. I decided to take Little Brother, by Cory Doctorow, and The Adoration of Jenna Fox, by Mary E. Pearson. Both books have been much talked about on the blogs, and both intrigued me. (And a hat tip to Jen Robinson for the suggestions.)

Although both books are set in a near-future, dystopian America, it's hard to imagine two books more different, and it got me thinking about the differences.

Little Brother is set in San Francisco, a couple of years in the future, although it's so close to where we are today that it could as well be tomorrow. Marcus is a seventeen-year-old who knows a lot about technology and how to bend the "systems" to his own ends. Marcus likes to play Alternate Reality Games, or ARGs, which combines computer-based gaming with real world adventures seeking clues out in the city. While Marcus and his team are out searching for the next clue, San Francisco is attacked in the worst terrorist attack in the country's history. In the wrong place at the wrong time, Marcus and his friends are picked up by Homeland Security and interrogated in a secret prison for days. Three of them are eventually released, but one of Marcus' friends never returns. San Francisco has become a police state, as Homeland Security continues to crack down with ever tighter security. Marcus fights back in the only way he knows how, using his wits and technology to outsmart Homeland Security, and spark a revolution.

It's hard to know what to make of Little Brother. It breaks some of the rules of good writing, and in a literary sense, it isn't very well written. For example, there are many sections where the flow of the story is interrupted for several pages of description of things like encryption or the civil rights movement. And it's clearly a message book - something that's normally considered a big no-no for YA fiction.

And yet. In spite of all this, Little Brother is a darn good story. The plot is exciting and relevant, and Doctorow has done a great job of capturing an authentic teen voice. The long, technical asides will most likely appeal to his audience, and the message is one that will resonate with most teens. I personally couldn't put it down and loved every minute of it. I even enjoyed the technical descriptions, although I confess to being something of a geek myself, and I agree with the message. As I was reading it, I started thinking of young people that I wanted to pass this book along to. In fact, I wish that every teen in the U.S. - and every adult - would read this book.

I do have one more little quibble with the book. One of the strong themes in the book is one of youth empowerment, and yet for all that Marcus and his friends accomplish, nothing is solved until the adults get involved. Don't get me wrong; Marcus is a true hero, and his accomplishments are essential in moving towards the ultimate resolution. But the turning point of the book is clearly the moment when the adults get involved. It may be more believable, but I feel that it weakens the theme.

The Adoration of Jenna Fox is set a little further in the future, but not so far that you can't see it as a natural outgrowth of the present. Jenna Fox has just awakened from a year-long coma following a terrible accident that no one will tell her about. Jenna remembers nothing, and she tries to reclaim her past and her identity by watching videos that her parents recorded of her over the years. Jenna begins to piece together an identity for herself, as she integrates fragments of resurfaced memory with new experiences and feelings. But is the new Jenna Fox the same person as she was before the accident? And why does she increasingly get the sense that her parents aren't telling her everything. I can't say too much about this book without spoiling some of the surprises, but you'll have to trust me that there is a futuristic/dystopian element to it.

The Adoration of Jenna Fox is as literary as Little Brother isn't. It's beautifully written; poetic even. It's tightly plotted; the characters have depth, and issues of identity and scientific ethics are explored in a balanced way. And yet. I have to confess that I didn't enjoy it as much as I enjoyed Little Brother. Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy it. The Adoration of Jenna Fox is an excellent book. But I never completely got wrapped up in it the way I did with Little Brother. I think that in part this is because Jenna's lack of emotion in the beginning of the book distances you from her from the start, and although she does begin to feel emotions again, I never completely was able to cross that distance to identify with her. It's a beautiful book and I enjoyed it, but it was more of an external enjoyment, an appreciation of its literary qualities.

I'm not sure if any of this says anything about the quality of either book. It may say more about my personal preference than about the books themselves. I just found it interesting reading the books back to back and comparing their merits. Obviously these are two books that will appeal to very different audiences. (I refuse to classify books as "boy" books or "girl" books - I'm a girl and I know which one I preferred - and I don't believe in genderizing books. But the temptation is there to do just that with these books.) Both Little Brother and The Adoration of Jenna Fox are outstanding books that are well worth reading.

Little Brother has some minor sexual content at a level that would probably be appropriate for high school age and above.

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Book Review: In the Company of Whispers

In the Company of Whispers
by Sallie Lowenstein

The year is 2047, and Zeyya lives in a tiny, roach-infested apartment with her parents. It's a horrible way to live, and not as nice as their previous home, but it's safer: Quarantine hasn't hit this area yet. Throughout the Greater East Coast Metropolis, people are taken away by the police, leaving only yellow Quarantine tape to indicate that they ever existed. Zeyya has never known anyone to return from Quarantine.

When Zeyya's parents are taken in Quarantine, Zeyya goes to live with her 98-year-old grandmother in one of the last free-standing houses in the Metropolis. Shortly after Zeyya moves in, Granna also takes in a strange young man named Jonah, who appears lost and homeless. Jonah is covered with intricate tatoos, and claims to be able to "access" the memories of his ancestors. Is Jonah telling the truth or is it a form of madness? Whether he is crazy or lying, Zeyya doesn't trust Jonah.

As the summer progresses, Granna shares memories of her childhood in Burma nearly a century before. Those memories serve as a comfort and an escape from the pain and loss, but they also begin to draw the three of them together in a shared bond. Despite his strangeness, Granna and Zeyya find theselves drawn to Jonah. The past brings them together, but will they survive long enough to have a shared future?

In the Company of Whispers is an amazing, unique, and genre-bending book. At its core is a frightening and poignant dystopian story, but it's also part memoir and part a fascinating look at another culture. The chapters are interspersed with photographs, letters, and mementos of the author's own childhood in Burma, memories which are echoed in the story in Granna's memories. There are also short excerpts of essays about Burma, Burmese poetry, and quotes from famous Burmese people. The effect is a fascinating collage of Burmese life, and rather than distract you from the story, as you might expect, it serves to draw in the reader and make the story more real. This look at Burma and the Burmese people has turned out to be tragically timely, given the recent cyclone that devastated Myanmar (Burma) which has left over 100 thousand people dead or missing, and countless others homeless.

The writing is beautiful and almost poetic; I love the way that things like colors and music are woven into the fabric of the story. The story itself is quite exciting and almost heart-stopping at times, as you experience the fear and sadness of living in a world where people can be taken away suddenly and with no warning. The disease itself is never described, and indeed no one seems to no much about it, which adds to the feeling of the randomness of it all. There is a strong theme of family running through it all, and of the past which is so much a part of who we are.

It's also a coming of age story,; Zeyya grows up quickly as she deals with the pain and worries of the summer. By the end of the summer, her teenage interests and worries from the beginning of the book seem almost trivial, and her friends seem shallow and childish.

The book itself has a quality feel to it that will appeal to book lovers. The pages are printed on coated paper, and there is a lovely brown case and matching endpapers.

In the Company of Whispers will be officially published in September, but because of the current situation in Burma, the publisher, Lion Stone Books, is accepting prepublication orders on their web site. There's also an interesting Q&A with the author  (in PDF format).

Pages: 379
Total 48-hour book challenge pages read: 880
Total 48-hour book challenge books read: 3
Total time reading and blogging: 15 hours and 40 minutes