The Curse of the Wendigo

"Lush prose, devilish characterizations, and more honest emotion than any book involving copious de-facings (yes, you read that right) ought to have...Yancey has written both books in the Monstrumologist series as if they were the last, going for broke and playing for keeps, no matter who or what ends up on the chopping block. This is Warthrop's The Hound of the Baskervilles; if we hold our breath, maybe part 3 will come faster."
-- Booklist, starred review

"A page-turner of an historical horror that will simultaneously thrill readers and make them sick to their stomachs."
-- Kirkus Reviews




I didn’t think that Yancey could top The Monstrumologist. As we all know, sequels—in both print and film-- often bomb (the follow-up to Grease is the one that does it for me). However, as the reviews above suggest, The Curse of the Wendigo is just as good—I would argue it is better than—Yancey’s first book in the series.

Wendigo opens, like its predecessor, in the twenty-first century, with its “author” trying to figure out the mysterious William James Henry. How old was he? Could he really have been born in 1876?

The story begins in 1888, and to open this saga is a mysterious visitor—a woman (Muriel Chanler)! And it becomes quite clear that she and Dr. Warthrop have a past. This, to me, is one of the smartest details to add complication to the book. We gain an understanding about why the doctor is like he is. He loved and lost. His wall is deliberate. This backstory is integral to the action.

Muriel’s husband, one of the doctor’s oldest friends and colleagues, has gone missing in the Canadian woods and is feared dead. What seems to have gotten him is the Wendigo (also called Mossmouth, ‘high wind,’ and Lepto lurconis). Although he initially laughs it off, Warthrop and Will Henry travel to Canada and trek into the woods to find John Chanler.

They find “him,” but what they find is not what went into the woods . . . I won’t spoil the book for you, but I will say, run out and get it now!

The writing is fantastic. The pace and storyline in this book expand on the prior tale picking up speed and action. I also think this book has more personality. I found myself laughing more than gagging (like I did with the first book). [describing a man impaled by a tree: “We can’t leave him stuck here like a pig on a stick,’ Warthrop replied. “Snap to, Will Henry.”]

Yancey gives Warthrop more wit and sarcasm—which fits considering we learn more about his “person” in this volume. Yancey also introduces women—strong women—into this story, both in Muriel and in a young girl, Lilly Bates, who by all accounts has the resolve, wit, countenance, and strength of stomach to be the first female monstrumologist (I would add she is sneaky and evil, too, but you’ll have to judge for yourself).

Read a sample chapter here

I want a Grace

Kristin Cashore's second YA novel, Fire, won the Walden Award for YA Fiction this year, so I've been wanting to read it and find out what all the buzz is about. It's a pre-quel, a companion novel to Cashore's first YA book, Graceling. So I read Graceling first, and thought it was pretty rockin'.

Katsa (very close to Katniss, huh?) is a bad-ass, a femme fatale, the adolescent "Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" (and bad attitude). She is graced, meaning she has a special talent, only hers is killing people. Or so she thinks. It takes meeting a dreamy guy named Po and helping him save the Seven Kingdoms from a bad guy named Leck to realize her Grace might be something she didn't expect after all.

While I thought the book's pacing was uneven and it got yawner long in some places, I can't help but respect Cashore's brand of YA feminism. Katsa will be no one's wife, or mother. She will take Po as a lover, and to hell with anyone who thinks that's wrong. She's a fighter, and decides that she will spend her life training young girls to fight. At one point in the novel she wonders why the weaker gender (in physical strength) never gets encouraged to learn to fight when young, like boys do.

(Got me thinking about my own childhood, how I was encouraged to set the table, do laundry, wear panty hose, while my twin brother was encouraged to play with GI Joe figurines and watch "The Incredible Hulk." Me, spoons and forks. Him, a big green man with bulging muscles, a short temper, and a penchant for violence. Interesting).

The book also made me want a Grace..but what would I want my Grace to be? Mind-reading? I think that would get exhausting, but it'd be fun. Camouflage? That'd be cool. I always wanted one of those capes Harry Potter wore, the one that makes you invisible. Or maybe I would just settle for being able to multiply myself by 10 so I could get everything done in a day that needs to get done. Yes, I like that Grace idea very much.

Cashore's second book, Fire, is the pre-quel companion novel to Graceling, which means it is set some 30 years before the events in Graceling take place. There's one crossover character who plays a big role, but you'll have to read the book to see who that is. My complaint with this one (and this may just be a sign of me getting old) is that I couldn't keep up with everyone and the who's-who of which kingdom. I had to turn back a couple of times and re-read to remember--why is Fire at that castle again? What is she supposed to be doing? Who is Murgda? And Mydogg? (I couldn't tell if some of the names were meant to be funny...I mean, don't you just want to say, Whassup Mydogg?! ha).

But other than that, again, I really like the strong female protagonist. Like Katsa, Fire refuses to marry or have children (for one, she's a human monster, and human monsters are hated by just about everyone, so ethically, there's that issue with bringing another little monster into the world), and like Katsa, she sleeps around, with girls and boys alike. And Fire kills her father because he has a serious screw missing in the morality department. And this book kept me guessing, and surprised (as did Graceling). Not predictable at all.

I like how Cashore doesn't shy away from the dark underside of life that is, well, present in everyone's life, whether we admit or not. Fire has a lot of insight into this underside, since she can read minds. She can also control others' minds, and the book raises interesting questions about privacy and power, and why some people with power choose to do good, while others abuse their power.

I think the book also presents opportunities to talk about the "male gaze"--Fire, as a human monster, is gorgeous--brightly colored and flashy and mesmerizing. You can't help but look at her. But Cashore does a nice job of showing the reader what it feels like for women to be constantly objectified--leered at as objects to be consumed. It takes its psychological toll, in ways we probably don't even realize. Because Fire can read minds, she always knows what the male (and female) gazers are thinking--and wanting--and she constantly has to defend herself, mentally and physically, against their insults.

Ultimately, I think we need more fairy tales like Cashore's. Reminiscent of the Tatterhood tales.

Check out Cashore's blog for more information on the books. Cashore is at work on her 3rd book, Bitterblue. Bitterblue is a character in Graceling.

Check out Cynthia Leitich Smith's blog for more info. about the Walden Award.