Scythe by Neal Shusterman

Reviewed by Ambrea

Citra and Rowan live in an extraordinary world.  No hunger, no disease, no war, no poverty—for most, it is a perfect world where incredible technology has evolved a collective consciousness and humanity does not age, does not die, unless a Scythe chooses you for gleaning.  Citra and Rowan, however, discover their world is far from perfect.

Chosen as apprentices for Scythe Faraday, Citra and Rowan must endure a grueling regimen of training to become scythes, free agents who select individuals for gleaning—for permanent death.  They must learn how to end a life through any means necessary, no matter how grisly.  As they step into the world of the scythes, they uncover a bewildering world of policies and politics and danger…especially when Scythe Goddard sets his eyes on them.

Scythe by Neal Shusterman is incredibly compelling.  I’ll be honest, it’s one of those books that I could hardly put down for more than a few minutes.  I mean, on the one hand, it’s like watching a train wreck:  something very bad is happening, but it’s difficult to look away.  On the other hand, it’s a breathtaking story with endearing characters, a fascinating setting, and an intriguing plot.

As the story goes on, it’s easy to become attached to Citra and Rowan.  I was right in the middle of their story from the moment Scythe Faraday selected them as apprentices, so I quickly became invested in their lives and caught up in their world.  Speaking of which, I was particularly fascinated by how this futuristic world worked , because everything down to the smallest detail is micromanaged by the Thunderhead, a “cloud” system in which the collective knowledge of all humanity is stored.

Shusterman creates a unique story with Scythe, because he doesn’t immediately offer readers a dystopian world even if that’s what we eventually get.  It wouldn’t be a stretch to say dystopian is a popular genre in YA literature (think:  Hunger Games, Maze Runner, Cinder, City of Ember—and I’m sure there’s even more); however, Shusterman doesn’t start out with a terrible world.  In fact, the world seems pretty perfect.

There’s no war, no disease, no hunger, no inequality, no aging, no natural death.  Humanity has reached the zenith of its evolution:  it is perfect.  Yet beneath this veneer of perfection, you have the scythes who help keep the human population in check—and you have a world that, for all its perfection is stagnating.

What does humanity have left to achieve if everything has been done already?

Scythe is one of those YA novels that cause readers to ask some very hard questions about life and death, humanity’s relationship and/or dependence on technology, and what would really happen in a Utopian society.  It’s an exciting, spine-tingling thrill ride, but it’s also an intriguing examination of human psychology because it constantly made me wonder, “What is really the purpose of life when life never ends?”

I quickly fell in love with Scythe, but I’ll be the first to admit that it’s a pretty intense novel.  Although death is everywhere in this book, it seems like such a distant concept as people can no longer truly die.  There are revival centers where, if someone unexpectedly dies, they’re brought back to life and reconstructed.  Diseases are nonexistent, aging is a thing of the past, and horrific accidents are merely an inconvenience.  There’s blood and gore and horrific things that happen, yet they’re only temporary—and it’s really difficult to digest this cavalier attitude about death.

Besides which, I think I was spooked by the way people lived.  I don’t mean the general prosperity or lack of disease or the utopia the Thunderhead has appeared to create; rather, I was a bit perturbed by the general disrespect for life.  In one of the journal entries between chapters, which are shared by the various Scythes readers meet, I stumbled across one that really made me think:

“If you’ve ever studied mortal age cartoons, you’ll remember this one.  A coyote was always plotting the demise of a smirking long-necked bird.  The coyote never succeeded; instead, his plans always backfired.  He would blow up, or get shot, or splat from a ridiculous height.

“And it was funny.  […]  Because no matter how deadly his failure, he was always back in the next scene…

“I’ve seen human foibles that have resulted in temporary maiming or momentary loss of life.  […]  And when it happens, people laugh, because no matter how gruesome the event, that person, just like the coyote, will be back in a day or two, as good as new, and no worse—or wiser—for the wear.

“Immortality has turned us all into cartoons.”

Human life has been downplayed, made into something laughable.  More importantly, it’s not seen as a finite, precious thing; rather, it’s an indefinite commodity that can be wasted.  Immortality has created a type of stagnation in human culture.  There’s nothing new to discover, nothing new for which to strive, nothing new to create—so what’s really left?

Scythe brings up some very interesting questions about life and human emotion and immortality, specifically what it could mean and what it could bring.  It’s entertaining, yes; however, it also makes you think and it makes you wonder.  It feels distinctly dystopian, even though humanity is arguably faced with a utopian society; it makes you wonder, like Citra and Rowan, what’s the real price tag for a perfect world.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz

Reviewed by Ambrea

Aristotle is a loner:  he likes peace and quiet, and he doesn’t talk much to other kids his age.  He has a brother, but he doesn’t know him, and his parents wont’ talk about it; he gets into fights in school, and he doesn’t have friends; he doesn’t even know how to swim very well.  Until he meets Dante.

Dante is everything Ari isn’t:  articulate, self-assured, brilliant.  He loves poetry and art, and he swims like a fish.  They’re two very different people, but, after they meet at the local swimming pool, they become the most unlikely of friends—and it isn’t long before Dante begins to change Ari’s life and open up his world.

 I absolutely loved Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe.  Although I originally encountered it as an audiobook, I absolutely loved listening to Saenz’s young adult novel.  It combines two critical elements for any audiobook:  an exceptional writer (with an exceptional story), and a phenomenal narrator.

Benjamin Alire Saenz does an excellent job of fashioning his characters.  Aristotle, for instance, is an angst-ridden teenager in search of answers to his questions and relief from his anger, and I think that Saenz properly conveys his journey of self-discovery.  Perhaps I didn’t always understand Aristotle—his emotional state, his thoughts, his experiences as a young Mexican-American growing up in California—because his life differs so greatly from mine, but I grew to enjoy his insights on life, love, and friendship.

He’s a solid character, fleshed out and fully formed.  He’s believable and, thanks to Lin-Manuel Miranda who narrated, he felt so real to me.  Aristotle is such a candid storyteller, laying bare his hopes and dreams and his desires—and his fears.  And the way he tells his story—the way Lin-Manuel Miranda brings him to life—kept me hooked from beginning to end.

And I loved Dante.

I have a special place in my heart for shoe-phobic, know-it-all Dante.  Like Ari, I slowly began to see him as an integral part to the story, a key piece to life.  He was so important to Ari and, likewise, he became important to me as I continued to listen to Saenz’s novel; moreover, he was just so much fun.  Articulate, smart, talkative and witty, he was the polar opposite of Ari, giving the story a good balance—and a different flavor that made it so wonderfully enjoyable.

I fell in love with Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe.  It was the perfect combination of writer and narrator that gave this story the life and depth it deserved, and it kept me enchanted from its opening lines.  While I might not have always been able to relate to Dante and Ari—being a female of the species, I can say I’ve certainly had much different life experience—I enjoyed reading their shared story.  It’s a candid account of life and loss, happiness and tragedy, and, ultimately, love and friendship.

When I reached the final chapter, I was sad to finally let go.

Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver

Reviewed by Holly White

What would you do if you had more than one chance to live a single day?  What things would you do differently, and what things would you do the same?  Who would you spend time with?  Who would you kiss?  What would you change about your life?

High school student Samantha Kingston enjoys being part of the in-crowd.  She hangs out with popular friends, and has a hot boyfriend.  Basically, as far as the high school world goes, she has it made—until Friday, February 12, when she is killed after a party.

And that is where the story really begins.

The morning after her death, Samantha wakes up to find that she is stuck in time.  It is Friday morning again.  She has a chance to relive that day but that night, she dies again.  And then she awakens to Friday yet again.  In a story reminiscent of the Groundhog Day movie, Samantha has to relive that day over and over, only in her case, it’s her last day.  And in the process, she learns that different decisions each day lead to different consequences.

Before I Fall was well-characterized, but I must say that at first Samantha and her friends were so selfish and arrogant that I almost put the book down.   I stuck with it, however, and in the end I couldn’t have put it down if I’d wanted to.  As Samantha continued reliving that day, she began to make better choices … sometimes, that is.  The experience of reliving each day changes her which in turn changes those around her. Various people in the story had been struggling with long standing issues ultimately came out and were dealt with.  When this happened, it made the characters more believable for me, because now I could see why they had made the decisions they had made.

There were a number of unexpected things that cropped up in the book, so I ended up enjoying this book more than I thought I would.  I even cried at one point, and that wasn’t even the most moving point in the book. I don’t know why that one scene touched me so, but it did.  Honestly, I thought this was going to be a teenage Cheetos book, you know, literary junk food.  If all books are food, then some are steak dinners, and some are broccoli, some salads, some peanut butter sandwiches, etc.  (Some are lima beans, but we won’t talk about those.)  But this one turned out to be a good chicken dinner, at least.  I found myself moved and inspired by it.  Even more surprisingly, I found myself learning from it.  The themes of motive and consequences are enhanced by the powerful emotions of the teenagers experiencing them.

While as an adult I’m not the intended audience for this book, I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it.  I liked the way the author wrote about the what motivates both bullies and the outcasts who are their victims.  I think any high school student, popular or not, would enjoy this book and learn from it.  Actually, I think anyone of any age who likes YA fiction with serious themes would enjoy this boo