Book Review: The Summoning

The Summoning
Kelley Armstrong

After years of frequent moves following her mother’s death, Chloe Saunders’s life is finally settling down. She is attending art school, pursuing her dreams of becoming a director, making friends, meeting boys. Her biggest concern is that she’s not developing as fast as her friends are. But when puberty does hit, it brings more than hormone surges. Chloe starts seeing ghosts–everywhere, demanding her attention. After she suffers a breakdown, her devoted aunt Lauren gets her into a highly recommended group home.

At first, Lyle House seems a pretty okay place, except for Chloe’s small problem of fearing she might be facing a lifetime of mental illness. But as she gradually gets to know the other kids at the home–charming Simon and his ominous, unsmiling brother Derek, obnoxious Tori, and Rae, who has a “thing” for fire–Chloe begins to realize that there is something that binds them all together, and it isn’t your usual “problem kid” behaviour. And together they discover that Lyle House is not your usual group home either…



Star Rating:


Review:
I wasn't sure what I was going to think of this book. Frankly, in YA Fantasy Lit, anything that doesn't scream "vampire" is a nice respite. So right off the bat, this was a nice break from what is the usual voice in this genre right now. Then enter Chloe, protagonist. I actually liked Chloe, which is strange for me, since I am generally inclined to loathe protagonists (don't even get me started on Harry Potter...). She's quirky, but controlled. She's your typical teenage nerd girl - proud of who she is and dealing with the world in the way she best can all while pretending to be normal. And this is before anything weird happens. Armstrong gives the reader a chance to get to know Chloe a little bit before she changes, which builds a foundation... that is nice.

Even once Chloe is in Lyle House... she is not a dunderheaded protagnist. She makes choices, she doubts herself, she acts like a human. She is not helpless and while she is a little naive, it is not so much that you literally get angry at the book while she constantly makes the wrong choices. Because to the reader... she's not making the wrong choice. It is clear that Chloe has a process through which she makes her decisions, and when something goes wrong, it's because a piece of information is withheld, and the reader is as taken aback as the protagonist. That's awesome. Loved it.

These days, with a busy work schedule, I rarely finish a book in a day or two - I positively flew through this book. Besides work, I was in the middle of a performance when I read this book... and I almost missed a cue once while reading it because I was engrossed. Armstrong is fabulous at weaving a world that quickly snares the reader, and you've read fifty pages and lost nearly an hour when you were just sitting down to read a chapter.

I believe that young adults will eat in her Darkest Powers series, if this first book is any indication. Even as a book for adults... while it's not the most impressive read, it certainly was not a waste of time, and I know that I will read the next one. Chloe, although a teenager, was not entirely unrelatable as a character. And, if nothing else, the book is a quick read. But I enjoyed it, even as things were getting a little "out of hand" at the end. I liken the style of it to books like Blue Bloods and A Wrinkle in Time - it carries a similar charm mixed with strong female protagonists who have a fighting spirit and a storyline that doesn't always go where you want... or expect. In a good way.

never believe it's not so

Magic.

What is magic?

I ask this because in my line of interest - fantasy novels - magic is a helpful if not vital ingredient. Yet, the real world we live in discourages imagination. Perhaps it is just a fad of the times, but realism is valued and anything outside of a mature view of the world is labelled as a derogatory trait.

Example: Children in kindergarten are the greatest targets for psychologists and pharmaceutical companies. At five-years-old, a healthy child will not want to sit still, will create a universe out of wooden blocks and plastic dinosaurs, and will have deeply intellectual conversations about crayon colours with his imaginary friend. A teacher, spotting these bizarre actions, is expected to remedy them by informing a school councilor, who will approach the parents with the sad news that their child has ADHD, or even being as bold as to say the child is mentally retarded. I don't have clear memories of my childhood, perhaps because my brain is scattered with a thousand fictional childhoods of other people, but I do remember enough to know that while I enjoyed story time and learning to write letters was a hoot, it was sure a lot more interesting to pretend that plastic animals were drowning in the water table and I was a magnificent goddess who had to save them all.

I had a discussion with a friend yesterday whom I think is brilliant, and she mentioned when she was in second grade, her teacher informed her father that she was mentally retarded. I looked at her and I surpressed a laugh. This girl is soon to be sixteen, is in honors classes, has written a three-hundred page novel and more short stories than I can count on all my digits, and is - besides being in high school - holding three jobs and volunteering two days a week at a community theatre. In kindergarten, my parents were highly advised to put my little brother on riddlin, and they chose not to, and today he's seventeen, a junior in high school, and has straight A's (this semester anyway). I cannot help but wonder if movements such as "catching mental illnesses in children before it's too late" have contributed to the deterioration of imagination - and with it, magic - in modern society.

That brings me back around to the question- what is magic?

To the technologically run world, science is magic. Medicine. Technology itself. I can't count how many people I've talked to at Staples who look at me delightedly when the copiers spit out their copies, as though there were faeries inside the thing.

The type or magic I deal in is imagination. Mere humans conjuring windstorms, freezing time. Where did such concepts come from? Who first theorised that which we now call magic? Did it once exist? Or is it a product of imagination? And most importantly, could it exist? And if it could, could it exist in the present, in an ancient time, the distant future, or all the above?

People would look at me sideways, but human nature is to question and things such as dragons and magic... they have been surfacing in literature since the medieval era if not before. One can't help but wonder if that's too much of a coincidence.

Then again, if this world of faltering imagination, is it ever fair to question?

{ listening to: clickity clackety keys || mood: working }