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lizshayne 's review for:
In Other Lands
by Sarah Rees Brennan
Really good YA, and I mean really good, should not just be accessible to non-teenagers. It should make you feel like a teenager again and give you that heightened sense of drama and emotion that defines being a teenager and, most of all, it should make you fall in love with the characters the way you only could as a younger reader.
Basically, I got to the end of this book and flipped back to read the last fifty pages again because I could not bear to stop. I alternated between wanting to hug the main characters and bash their heads together. It was glorious. Brennan is still the queen of snarky main characters and everything in this book is no exception. If you like her other work, read this. If you've been enjoying the revival of thoughtful portal fantasy, read the hell out of this.
I have a lot to say about this book that is not entirely about this book, so, you know, why not write another Goodreads essay?
---
This book—while being a hilarious and occasionally silly portal fantasy—functions also as a commentary on the genre. It reminds me of another web-published serial novel that flouts the convention of the portal fantasy hero: Ursula Vernon's [b: Summer in Orcus|32182098|Summer in Orcus|T. Kingfisher|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1482960864s/32182098.jpg|52819916]. Both authors write protagonists who are not merely non-stereotypical, but who are fundamentally real. They are not fantasies of children who keep their upper lips stiff and their hearts pure; they are afraid and they are weird and they are unsuited to the worlds of conflict into which they are thrown. And they win not by changing themselves to fit the world, but by becoming themselves and finding their places in it. To make the Narnia parallel, Summer is Susan Pevensie allowed to remain her caregiving self while Elliot is Eustace Clarence Scrubb done by a sympathetic author.
The thing about Eustace, and Ana Mardoll makes this point in her ongoing critique of the series, is that he's only wrong because the arbitrary word of the Lion declares him so. Aslan is out to get him. His reliance on and adherence to 20th century notions of law and honor is mocked and degraded until it is literally torn away from him along with his dragon skin. Elliot is Eustace when the narrator is willing to concede that maybe not murdering people and using knowledge to build common ground (rather than genocide) might have some merits. Elliot is allowed to use his morals and pacifism and sheer bloody minded annoyingness to win. And while his thick skin is rather more metaphorical than Eustace's, it's also a much more realistic portrayal of what it feels like to be a lonely kid to whom people are cruel.
Brennan's protagonist is not simply realistic, he's an bucketful of snarky rejoinders to both the tendency to romanticize the monarchy and nobility in fantasy AND the grimdark tendency to portray everything as not merely terrible, but irredeemable.
---
On the one hand, I want to talk about this narrative as a work in the style of fanficiton, but on the other hand, I'm leery of doing that. Brennan got her start as an extraordinarily talented fanfiction writer—back when fandom was small enough for big name fans to be almost ubiquitously recognizable—and there are still those who mistreat her, denigrate her writing, or expect that her work be provided for free forever because of that. Screw them, they're awful. And to compare her work to fanfiction in style might be a misnomer; perhaps it is more accurate to say that a hell of a lot of fanfiction is written in the style of Sarah Rees Brennan (and others).
But whether the style is Brennan's and has trickled into transformative works or whether Brennan was at the forefront of defining the aesthetics of a new genre, In Other Lands bears the hallmarks of this new style.
There are a few components that I think define fanfiction as a style of writing (and not all fanfics will bear this style and not all that write in this style will be fanfic; it's a genre classification like Bildungsroman or, perhaps better, sonnet). One is the outsized role that dialogue plays not merely to advance the plot, but for its own sake and the delight in performance. Another is the space that romance takes up: the relationships are given closer to the amount of page-time you would expect from a romance novel, but the plot is not the romance nor does it hinge on the successful resolution of the romantic narrative (the way it does in a romance novel or a melodrama). And it is episodic; the plot has discrete chunks that resolve as the characters move through the narrative even as the larger storyline heads towards a grand conclusion. (Other good examples that come to mind immediately are Bujold's [b:Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen|25155958|Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen|Lois McMaster Bujold|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1439213337s/25155958.jpg|44858469], Rainbow Rowell's [b:Carry On|32768522|Carry On|Rainbow Rowell|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1481729252s/32768522.jpg|43346673], Karen Lord's [b:Best of All Possible Worlds|15743440|The Best of All Possible Worlds|Karen Lord|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1347419499s/15743440.jpg|21427733], and, naturally, Summer in Orcus).
There is a joy in reading books in the style of fanfiction. Some of it is because fanfiction bucks the trend of sad=serious and does not torture the reader by making them care about the characters and either screwing them over OR refusing to spend time on the emotional resolution of the relationship arcs. But for me, it's because fanfiction as a style hearkens back to the Victorian novel—which is one of my true loves—and rejects the close (and often stuffy) interiority prized by the modernist novel for the grand and sweeping sagas of Dickens and Collins and Thackeray and Gaskell and Eliot. (Most fanfiction is not as good as Eliot, but honestly, no one is as good as Eliot). Fanfiction, as a style, is the (possibly red-headed step)child of the Victorian novel and you can see the bones of Dickens' caustic critique, Collins' delight in twisted plots, Thackeray's commitment to the hilariously awful, Gaskell's understanding of how to build a relationship, and Eliot's compassion for taking people as they are in Brennan's writing.
Brennan has absolutely written a young adult novel with contemporary sensibilities and a plot that would make every single Victorian cringe (unless you count the 1890s...which no one does when they talk about Victorians). Yet you can see the roots of her style in theirs and the swing of the literary pendulum away from modernism. Man, I hope it spreads.
---
Touching on the Dickensian side of Brennan's book, I would be remiss if I didn't mention Serene, the elves, and the deeply clever use of "reverse sexism" in this book. Brennan's elves are actually reverse sexist: their entire culture is based on the idea that men are the weaker sex and women are stronger and more powerful. It's played up and for laughs, but Brennan never says anything about male elves that hasn't been said about human women. That's why it works so well and is so discomfiting: we are invited to laugh at the absurdity both of the elves and of the humans who display sexism of the garden variety. Both are equally ridiculous and it works brilliantly as a sendup of sexism in fantasy. It delighted me, but then, so did the rest of the book.
Basically, I got to the end of this book and flipped back to read the last fifty pages again because I could not bear to stop. I alternated between wanting to hug the main characters and bash their heads together. It was glorious. Brennan is still the queen of snarky main characters and everything in this book is no exception. If you like her other work, read this. If you've been enjoying the revival of thoughtful portal fantasy, read the hell out of this.
I have a lot to say about this book that is not entirely about this book, so, you know, why not write another Goodreads essay?
---
This book—while being a hilarious and occasionally silly portal fantasy—functions also as a commentary on the genre. It reminds me of another web-published serial novel that flouts the convention of the portal fantasy hero: Ursula Vernon's [b: Summer in Orcus|32182098|Summer in Orcus|T. Kingfisher|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1482960864s/32182098.jpg|52819916]. Both authors write protagonists who are not merely non-stereotypical, but who are fundamentally real. They are not fantasies of children who keep their upper lips stiff and their hearts pure; they are afraid and they are weird and they are unsuited to the worlds of conflict into which they are thrown. And they win not by changing themselves to fit the world, but by becoming themselves and finding their places in it. To make the Narnia parallel, Summer is Susan Pevensie allowed to remain her caregiving self while Elliot is Eustace Clarence Scrubb done by a sympathetic author.
The thing about Eustace, and Ana Mardoll makes this point in her ongoing critique of the series, is that he's only wrong because the arbitrary word of the Lion declares him so. Aslan is out to get him. His reliance on and adherence to 20th century notions of law and honor is mocked and degraded until it is literally torn away from him along with his dragon skin. Elliot is Eustace when the narrator is willing to concede that maybe not murdering people and using knowledge to build common ground (rather than genocide) might have some merits. Elliot is allowed to use his morals and pacifism and sheer bloody minded annoyingness to win. And while his thick skin is rather more metaphorical than Eustace's, it's also a much more realistic portrayal of what it feels like to be a lonely kid to whom people are cruel.
Brennan's protagonist is not simply realistic, he's an bucketful of snarky rejoinders to both the tendency to romanticize the monarchy and nobility in fantasy AND the grimdark tendency to portray everything as not merely terrible, but irredeemable.
---
On the one hand, I want to talk about this narrative as a work in the style of fanficiton, but on the other hand, I'm leery of doing that. Brennan got her start as an extraordinarily talented fanfiction writer—back when fandom was small enough for big name fans to be almost ubiquitously recognizable—and there are still those who mistreat her, denigrate her writing, or expect that her work be provided for free forever because of that. Screw them, they're awful. And to compare her work to fanfiction in style might be a misnomer; perhaps it is more accurate to say that a hell of a lot of fanfiction is written in the style of Sarah Rees Brennan (and others).
But whether the style is Brennan's and has trickled into transformative works or whether Brennan was at the forefront of defining the aesthetics of a new genre, In Other Lands bears the hallmarks of this new style.
There are a few components that I think define fanfiction as a style of writing (and not all fanfics will bear this style and not all that write in this style will be fanfic; it's a genre classification like Bildungsroman or, perhaps better, sonnet). One is the outsized role that dialogue plays not merely to advance the plot, but for its own sake and the delight in performance. Another is the space that romance takes up: the relationships are given closer to the amount of page-time you would expect from a romance novel, but the plot is not the romance nor does it hinge on the successful resolution of the romantic narrative (the way it does in a romance novel or a melodrama). And it is episodic; the plot has discrete chunks that resolve as the characters move through the narrative even as the larger storyline heads towards a grand conclusion. (Other good examples that come to mind immediately are Bujold's [b:Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen|25155958|Gentleman Jole and the Red Queen|Lois McMaster Bujold|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1439213337s/25155958.jpg|44858469], Rainbow Rowell's [b:Carry On|32768522|Carry On|Rainbow Rowell|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1481729252s/32768522.jpg|43346673], Karen Lord's [b:Best of All Possible Worlds|15743440|The Best of All Possible Worlds|Karen Lord|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1347419499s/15743440.jpg|21427733], and, naturally, Summer in Orcus).
There is a joy in reading books in the style of fanfiction. Some of it is because fanfiction bucks the trend of sad=serious and does not torture the reader by making them care about the characters and either screwing them over OR refusing to spend time on the emotional resolution of the relationship arcs. But for me, it's because fanfiction as a style hearkens back to the Victorian novel—which is one of my true loves—and rejects the close (and often stuffy) interiority prized by the modernist novel for the grand and sweeping sagas of Dickens and Collins and Thackeray and Gaskell and Eliot. (Most fanfiction is not as good as Eliot, but honestly, no one is as good as Eliot). Fanfiction, as a style, is the (possibly red-headed step)child of the Victorian novel and you can see the bones of Dickens' caustic critique, Collins' delight in twisted plots, Thackeray's commitment to the hilariously awful, Gaskell's understanding of how to build a relationship, and Eliot's compassion for taking people as they are in Brennan's writing.
Brennan has absolutely written a young adult novel with contemporary sensibilities and a plot that would make every single Victorian cringe (unless you count the 1890s...which no one does when they talk about Victorians). Yet you can see the roots of her style in theirs and the swing of the literary pendulum away from modernism. Man, I hope it spreads.
---
Touching on the Dickensian side of Brennan's book, I would be remiss if I didn't mention Serene, the elves, and the deeply clever use of "reverse sexism" in this book. Brennan's elves are actually reverse sexist: their entire culture is based on the idea that men are the weaker sex and women are stronger and more powerful. It's played up and for laughs, but Brennan never says anything about male elves that hasn't been said about human women. That's why it works so well and is so discomfiting: we are invited to laugh at the absurdity both of the elves and of the humans who display sexism of the garden variety. Both are equally ridiculous and it works brilliantly as a sendup of sexism in fantasy. It delighted me, but then, so did the rest of the book.