Book: Leche

“After thirteen years of living in the U.S., Vince returns to his birthplace, the Philippines. As Vince ventures into the heat and chaos of the city, he encounters a motley cast of characters, including a renegade nun, a political film director, arrogant hustlers, and the country’s spotlight-driven First Daughter. Haunted by his childhood memories and a troubled family history, Vince unravels the turmoil, beauty, and despair of a life caught between a fractured past and a precarious future.“

It’s Filipino Friday time! And I was really hoping I’d be writing about a book that I’d be recommending wholeheartedly. I’m not. Obviously.

A bit of background. I found Leche while browsing in National Bookstore. I wasn’t really looking for any particular title at the time, I just wanted new books because my pile at home was dwindling. And then I saw Leche. It was a novel about a Filipino heading back to the Philippines after being raised in Hawaii.

Interesting? I didn’t really know. That’s all I knew coming into this book. Well, that and the fact that this is not locally produced. A printing press in the United States believed enough in this book to publish it.

Unfortunately, I can’t see whatever it is that publishers saw.

I mean, sure, Leche is very easy reading. It took me three days to finish the whole thing. And that’s while commuting! But there’s a difference between easy-reading and engaging.

Though, yes, Leche was very engaging at first. Even with its heightened version of reality. It was when the timeline become wonky that the book lost me.

Here’s a bit of backgrounder: Leche is set in the early 90′s. Cory Aquino is still president, and Kris Aquino is the darling of the media. But author Linmark thought it would be interesting to compress the 1990s to the 2000s of the Philippines and present it as Leche.

Instead of making cute (though odd) romantic-comedy films like Pido Dida and Magic to Win, Kris Aquino was already known as the Massacre Queen, hosting talk shows where she’s the one who’s doing the most talking, and is already broadcasting her secrets to the world.

Imelda Marcos is a megalomaniac who cuckolded her husband in revenge against his infidelity.

And Metro Manila is filled to the brim with closeted homosexuals, who all convene in a place called Leche.

Now, I don’t really mind heightened reality. Used correctly, it can be a very powerful tool in opening the eyes of the public. But at which point is heightened reality a form of satire, and at which point does it become too much that it’s just–wrong?

That’s my problem with Leche. I might not be the smartest reader, but I’m a reader nonetheless. Books are supposed to enrich (if not entertain); but at this end of the book, I’m left wondering if what I read was tongue-in-cheek or crass. If it was an attempt at a wake-up call, or the writings of a disillusioned ex-local.

I don’t subscribe to the idea that if one doesn’t understand something, then that something must be good. But I’m not saying that my views on this book is the be all and end all. Which is why it’s important to see what other people have said about the book–

You Fight Like Anna Rice!
Kirkus Reviews
Bakit Why?

What I wrote is my opinion. Just my opinion.

But if you’re looking for something easy to read, then why not pick up Leche. And then make your own mind up and then tell me what you thought about it.

Book: The Silver Dream

“As Walkers, Joey Harker and his fellow InterWorld soldiers can pass between multiple dimensions–a skill they use as part of their mission to maintain peace as rival powers of magic and science threaten to control all worlds.

When a stranger named Acacia Jones does the impossible and follows Joey back to Base Town, things get complicated. No one knows who she is or where she’s from–or how she knows so much about InterWorld.

Dangerous times lie ahead for Joey and the mission. There’s a traitor hidden among them, and if Joey has any hope of saving InterWorld, the Altiverse, and the mission, he’s going to have to rely on his wits–and, just possibly, on the mysterious Acacia Jones.“

This book might say it’s about one thing, but it’s about something else.

Acacia Jones is a red herring, although she does play into the events that unfold in The Silver Dream, she is not as instrumental to the grand design as the book blurb will make you believe.

That warning aside, let us now dive into the sequel for InterWorld:

It’s not as good as the first one. Definitely. By leaps and bounds. And once you’ve come to accept that, you’ll learn to like it for what it is–which is, a good adventure book. That’s how it was for me.

It probably has to do with the diminished participation Neil Gaiman has on this book, but the worlds we visit aren’t as rich as they were in the first novel. Then again, we don’t really dwell too long in any world for any of them to make much impact. The sequel deals more with the interpersonal relationships of the many incarnations of Joseph Harker.

Story-wise, it’s actually very hard to judge the quality of The Silver Dream. Not because it’s not good. It’s just not complete. By the time you finish the novel, it becomes clear that the whole thing is a set-up for something bigger. And you can’t say a book is good, or not good, if the story isn’t finished.

Unless, of course, this was supposed to be a complete story–and then, I must say, it’s really bad. Because it cuts off just as things are about to get interesting. It builds up and builds up, and just cuts off–

Now, if this were a character-driven story, I’d say it’s okay. But our protagonist, while embarking on a journey of self-discovery, is still on the cusp of actually doing something about said self-discovery. His journey has just reached its climax. Or is about to reach it.

So, no. It’s not good in that aspect as well.

Nor is it any good at building up the characters that already exist–or the ones it introduces in this book.

Come to think of it, The Silver Dream isn’t very good at pacing itself either. Things happen. And then something else happens. And midway, yet another thing happens. By the time we reach the latter half of the novel, we see the random things get connected together. But it’s only in the last few pages that we actually see how everything relates together, and by then, it’s being blown up to be bigger than what we thought it to be.

And then the novel ends.

The Silver Dream is a very frustrating book to read, if we’re going to be brutally honest about it. I remember enjoying the adventure aspect of it when I put it down. Going back to it now, I’m questioning what exactly I liked in the book.

I can’t think of a single reason.

I think I have to read the next book, the obvious continuation, to see if this whole thing was worth it.

This begs the question, though, why the publishers (and the writers) thought it would be okay to publish just this part of an obviously bigger story. Why not just release the whole thing as one? Why put in a cliffhanger? This is not television.

Book: A Calm Before Storm #5

“Retired Private Investigator Derrick Storm was enjoying the easy life–until he fished up a decaptiated head belonging to a victim of notorious criminal, The Fear. When Derrick’s father, Carl, revealed that The Fear was teh man who killed Derrick’s mother, they both swore vengeance.

After interrupting an assassination attempt on the Russion ambassador, Derrick and Carl found themselves amidst an international crisis. Helen Pierce, Derrick’s CIA contact, forbade them from getting further involved. But instead, Derrick made a plea for help to his old flame, covert CIA agent Clara Strike.

Derrick, Clara and Carl made it into Russia, hoping to stop The Fear’s attempt at destabilizing relations between Russh and Germany. The trio interrogated a man named Viktor Mueller, who revealed The Fear’s agenda: leading a massacre during a rally at the Kremlin, wielding German weaponry.

Hoping to stop The Fear, Clara and Carl left Derrick to contend with Viktor–instead, he was ambushed by The Fear himself.“

That was it?

Seriously?

After five issues, I thought there’d be a better way to end this series than with a half-assed attempt at “I just want to see the world burn” speech, followed by a clean-up by the same character.

Seriously?

I’m not saying I was expecting a masterpiece. After the filler that was Issue #4, I was just looking forward to actual plot movement and a logical turn of events. I did not expect a forced conclusion to what had become a fluff Derrick Storm story.

And to think this mini-series had actual potential!

I mean, what happened to the angle of Derrick’s mother dying at the hands of The Fear? Aside from the taunting that was to be expected, of course. Where did the pretend-I’m-dead story arc come from? What in the name of all that is good was up with the sudden reveal of a turncoat that wasn’t even foreshadowed?!

And seeing how much of a goof Derrick Storm is, I have to wonder–how did he become known as a good detective, to the point that the CIA were willing to work with him?

I can’t even–

Whoever in Marvel is in charge of the Derrick Storm title should really rethink what they’re doing to the character. I mean, I know that it’s not really a title they’re planning to sustain, as it’s just Castle merchandise at the end of the day, but the least they could do is give content that won’t take readers for fools.

But fools we are for having followed this story to the end.

Ugh.

Television: Doctor Who and the Name of the Doctor

“Clara is summoned to an impossible conference call, alerting her that the deadly Whisper Men are closing in on Vastra, Jenny and Strax. Someone is kidnapping the Doctor’s friends, leading him toward the one place in all of time and space that he should never go. It’s a deadly trap that threatens to unravel his past, present and future…“

I’m unsure about how I should feel about this episode.

On the one hand, I’m highly satisfied with how they wrapped up the Impossible Girl storyline–and how they wrote in the Great Intelligence into the fabric of Doctor Who history. What I didn’t like so much was how the whole episode didn’t feel like a proper Who episode.

Thing is, I don’t even know how to explain that. But one thing’s for sure. It starts with River Song.

Before we go forward, I would just like to explain how I’m very much a fan of River Song. Until Series 6 happened, that is. But I thought The Angels Take Manhattan did a great job at bringing back the River Song I liked. And then we get the one in this episode.

On the one hand, I liked the fact that Steven Moffat chose the version of River who knew everything to appear in this episode. On the other hand, this raises so many questions for me. Like, how did Madame Vastra manage to contact the consciousness of River Song in the very, very far future–where she lives in a centralized processor that only exists in a planet far away?

The timey-wimey bit worked with Clara, as we already saw that type of sending messages through time in Blink. But I’m really curious as to how they got River.

And why River? Because she knows the name of the Doctor? Because of Trenzalore? But this was just a conclave to talk about saving the Doctor, is it not? Did they know that they would need the name of the Doctor?

If we’re going for people who care about the Doctor, wouldn’t the Paternoster Gang attempt to contact Amy and Rory? Or Jack Harkness? Maybe Martha Jones? People who can actually help the doctor. So why not them? I understand the reality of returning cast members and budgetary constraints–but a clear explanation of why not them would help. Immensely. Especially since the recent run of episodes have all thrown homage to previous episodes–and it’s leading us toward the fiftieth anniversary special.

This is not to say that the episode was bad though. I thought it was exceptionally well-crafted. I just couldn’t get over the fact that for an episode leading to the anniversary, and for a finale episode, this felt really… small. As I said, it didn’t feel like a Who episode. Especially after the big episodes that led to the finale. Where was the grandeur of The Crimson Horror? The impossibility of The Wedding of River Song? Where was the heart-tugging moment of The Rings of Akhaten? The spectacle of The Bells of St. John? Where was the feel of adventure that they’ve been infusing the series with since Series 6′s mid-series finale A Good Man Goes to War?

There’s a feeling of something missing in The Name of the Doctor.

I must say though, Jenna-Louise Coleman did exceptionally well in this episode.

And I really do like the explanation we get as to why Clara became the Impossible Girl.

And I hope that this really is the end of the prophecy that Steven Moffat started in Series 5. That after the Pandorica opens, silence will fall when the question is asked. The Pandorica has already opened. Silence already fell. (And has fallen again.) And the question has been asked.

Let’s go back to the simpler arcs. Like Bad Wolf. Like Vote Saxon.

Or like the cracks in the universe.

Speaking of which. Have we already found out what made the TARDIS explode back in Series 5?

That’s something we’ve yet to discuss, isn’t it?

Well, we’ll hold off on it for now, as we digest the game-changing reveal at the end of The Name of the Doctor. Or we could discuss it during the six months wait we have to endure before the fiftieth anniversary special airs on November. Sound off in the comments section below.

Book: Lola, a Ghost Story

“Jesse sees dead people, monsters, demons, and lots of other things that go bump in the night. Things that no one else can see. No one except his ailing grandmother — a woman who used her visions to help those living in her small town. The same rural community in all the scary stories Jesse’s heard as a child. Man-eating ogres in trees. Farmhouses haunted by wraiths. Even pigs possessed by the devil. Upon his grandmother’s passing, Jesse has no choice but to face his demons… and whatever else might be awaiting him at Lola’s house.“

If one was to judge a book by its cover, you would say that this book isn’t scary at all. And you would be right. Because I don’t think the intent behind this book was to scare. At any capacity. Which makes me wonder–what exactly was the purpose behind Lola: A Ghost Story?

The story is nice. Unfortunately, it’s just that– Nice. It’s not groundbreaking in any way. Nor is it very original.

It’s a story designed to pull at the heartstrings, but only manages a few tugs before giving up.

It’s a story that sets up a world it has no intention of visiting again.

But it’s very likeable. Which, I think, has more to do with the art than the actual story. Because looking back at it now, asking myself what I liked in the book… I’m drawing a blank.

Well, that’s not true. I really liked the art. The story though, I feel, was a wasted opportunity.

Writer Torres sets out to tell one story, a visit to the Philippines mitigated by the death of the title character: the grandmother. It weaves stories about said grandmother to tell the reader how special she was. But the actual story happens at present, at the wake her grandson from Canada is forced to attend. And his story doesn’t really connect with the grandmother save for the fact that they share the same gift: the ability to see visions–and talk to dead people.

Something we don’t really get to explore much.

We get teases of it, sure. And the actual story does deal with one ghost. But juxtaposed with the more fantastical stories about the grandmother–the main plot falls flat.

And then we get to the ending with its vision of the future.

Closing the book, I had to ask–what was the point of the ending? And then, as I type this, I followed this up with, what was the point of the whole story? Is it about acceptance? About destiny? About faith?

Whatever the story may be about, it remained unclear and unrealized.

But the art was really nice.

Of course, I could be looking at this the wrong way. Someone out there might have been able to discern why this book is good. So let’s see what other people said about the book:
One Metal
Comic Book Resources
Kat in Books