Category: Books & Writing

As if an entire novel of brain-chewing zombies attacking the gentlefolk of Jane Austen’s England wasn’t enough, Quirk Classics has brought forth from the belly of Hell the delightful Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: The Deluxe Heirloom Edition, which promises an astonishing “30 percent more zombies — via even more all-new scenes of carnage, corpse slaying, and cannibalism” than the original Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, co-authored by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith.

With an elegant leatherette cover (no, it’s not real leather, but then again, this isn’t exactly real Jane Austen) decorated with curlicues and gold embellishments, and inset with an oval miniature of the skeletal Austenite heroine from the cover of the original paperback Zombies, this handsome edition is sure to fit in with even the most fancy-shmancy of libraries. The Deluxe Heirloom Edition boasts thirteen new detailed colour illustrations (my favourite being the zombie-like Charlotte’s wedding portrait with the dimwitted Mr. Collins) by Roberto Parada, and a satiny ribbon marker that prevents people like me from mucking up such an elegant book by marking the pages with random grocery receipts.

The Deluxe Heirloom Edition sandwiches the remixed novel between two completely new pieces of writing: a Preface to the Deluxe Heirloom Edition by Seth Grahame-Smith, and an Afterword by Dr. Allen Grove, Professor of English at Alfred University. The former provides vital information, like what music Grahame-Smith listened to while writing his literary masterpiece, while the latter provides a very interesting account of the parallels between Grahame-Smith’s reinvention of Jane Austen using popular mixed-media imagery like zombies, and the rehashing of Gothic motifs in Jane Austen’s own time.

The new zombie content of the book is really completely unnecessary in terms of understanding either Austen’s story or Grahame-Smith’s story, but it does provide thirty percent more giggles for the reader. Following in the same format as the original Zombies, The Deluxe Heirloom Edition is spewed-upon and slashed with katana swords, zombies, vomit, and ninjas, while the characters manage to modify their Austenite speeches to get in a good dig or two. So, during the first ball scene, not only does Mr. Darcy cantankerously decline Mr. Bingley’s entreaties that he must go and dance by bluntly saying that it would be a punishment to dance with most of the women in the room, he also adds that “half of them look as if they have been stricken by the strange plague.” This add-on, in addition to being humorous, manages to illustrate Austen’s original critique of the vapid socialites at the ball by comparing them to a bunch of zombies in need of brains.

Careful reading of the text provides a few other choice gems of add-on text peppered amongst the original Austen and original Zombies. In chapter nineteen, Elizabeth doesn’t just dread Mr. Collin’s boring marriage proposal; she briefly considers “killing her cousin to avoid the conversation altogether.” And, boy, wouldn’t the reader love to kill Mr. Collins to avoid the codswallop that comes out of his mouth! As he dutifully concludes his reasons for marrying Elizabeth, Grahame-Smith has Mr. Collins drone about how “nothing remains but for [him] to describe the assortment of meats and cheeses and pies that [he has] selected for [their] wedding banquet.” This seemingly random extension of the original lecture is quite delightful, as it plays up Elizabeth’s violently desperate attempt to interrupt his speech at this point. Jokes against the lacklustre Mr. Collins abound in The Deluxe Heirloom Edition, such as when Mr. Bennet is described as one who “would have preferred being eaten alive by a herd of the undead to the speedy return of Mr. Collins.” Oh, Mr. Bennet, we’re right there with you!

Where whole sections of zombie action have been appended to the original text, Grahame-Smith has at least provided a fresh take on zombie shenanigans, instead of recreating the same battle scene scenarios of the original Zombies. For instance, a Christmas battle has been added to the mix, showcasing how even the holidays can be spiced up with a bit of festive zombie slaying. When the family Hellford (an apt name indeed) approaches the Bennet family home for their annual carolling, the Bennet girls are dismayed to discover that the Hellfords’ singing has been replaced by moaning (or maybe that’s how they always sounded), the whole family having turned to zombies hellbent on sullying the holiday season.

An early extended scene in the book also draws in the foreign contingent, as mysterious Israelites plead with the Bennet girls to come save the nearby village of Shepherd’s Bath. With the majority of the village at Sunday worship, it is left to the Descendants of Moses to procure the zombie-slayers when the church comes under attack from a Biblical plague of zombies. Is Grahame-Smith trying to convey some message about the relationship between religious groups in England? Or did he just want to work in a few more vomit jokes and a town called Bastard’s Hollow?

Other additions to the text include a tear-jerker scene in which a ferocious young zombie is discovered chained in a house by the mother who can not accept that her son is gone, and a particularly fun scene in which a powder mill blows up, expelling masses of the undead into the air in a gratuitous scene of zombie fireworks. And let’s not forget a somewhat naughty scene in which Elizabeth peeps out a window as Mr. Darcy practices his sparring alone in the moonlit garden with no shirt on and a healthy bit of attention paid to his chestnut mane of hair. Elizabeth scolds herself, wondering “what would Jane say” if she were to wake up and find her mooning over Mr. Darcy’s Harlequin Romance novel stances. She is, of course, referring to her sister Jane, but the reader can’t help but wonder what Jane the author might say if she were to rise from her long sleep and see the state of her novel.

One only hopes her first words wouldn’t be a demand for fresh brains.

Order now at Amazon.com:
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: The Deluxe Heirloom Edition

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: The Deluxe Heirloom Edition are distributed by Quirk Books (International/US) and Raincoast Books (Canada).

Neil Gaiman’s newest children’s book, Odd and the Frost Giants, was actually first published over a year ago in the UK as a World Book Day selection. In “A Note from Neil,” the author explains:

In most of the world (but not America) they have World Book Day. On World Book Day, in the UK, schoolchildren are given book tokens to buy books with, and a selection of special World Book Day Books are written and published and put on sale. The authors are not paid; the publishers do it for nothing. The idea is to get children reading. […]

I was thrilled when the book became a UK bestseller. I was delighted when my American publishers, HarperChildrens, told me they wanted to publish it in the US, and elated when I learned it would be illustrated by Brett Helquist, whose art I had loved ever since I first picked up The Bad Beginning.

HarperCollins’ version of the book is a lovely collector’s edition. The hardcover is wrapped in dark blue fabric, and the front features art by Brett Helquist. Helquist, best known as the illustrator of Lemony Snicket‘s A Series of Unfortunate Events, does the interior black-and-white line drawings, as well. He’s the perfect choice to illustrate Odd and the Frost Giants, which shares with Lemony Snicket’s tale of the Baudelaire orphans a similar dark-edged humour that’s common to so many stories that chronicle the trials of childhood.

Odd and the Frost Giants is set in Midgard (ancient Norway), and revolves around the titular Odd, a twelve-year-old Viking boy with exceedingly bad luck. Within the first few pages of the book, his father dies at sea, his leg is broken in a tree-cutting accident, his mother remarries into a family that’s less than welcoming to a crippled stepson, and the village is trapped in an unnatural, endless winter. Despite all this, Odd wears an everpresent smile, an enigmatic expression that irritates all of the villagers, except his mother. One day, Odd decides to leave home in search of better fortune elsewhere, launching him on a classic hero’s journey straight out of the Norse sagas. Deep in the woods, he meets a fox, bear, and eagle that turn out to be the Nordic gods Loki, Thor, and Odin, trapped in animal form. Tricked by the Frost Giants, they’ve been stripped of their powers and cast down to the mortal realm, where they despair of ever regaining Asgard, the land of the gods, again. Odd promptly promises the trio that he’ll lead them on their return, and break the Frost Giants’ winter spell in the process. Against all odds, Odd inevitably bests the Frost Giants, reassuring children that being small doesn’t necessarily equate with being helpless or unimportant. Adults (yes, it’s a book aimed at children, but adults will enjoy it, too!) will appreciate that Odd accomplishes his quest not with trickery or blunt force, but with intelligence, wit, and empathy.

Neil Gaiman has frequently written about Norse mythology, most notably in The Sandman and American Gods, but Odd and the Frost Giants is his first foray into this territory for young readers. As such, the gods are considerably more family-friendly than Gaiman’s previous incarnations, which were true to the Nordic legends’ bawdy roots, but adult readers will still be able to detect undertones of the old characters that made the gods of Gaiman’s more mature works so fully realized and enjoyable.

If there’s one complaint to be made about the book, it’s its slim, 128-page length. A World Book Day is limited to 15,000 words, making Odd and the Frost Giants a novelette rather than a full novel. It can easily be read in one sitting, so it seems that just as you’re getting into the story, it’s over. The story is so engaging, though, that you’ll want to start right at the beginning again, drawing the reading experience out. Gaiman also hints that the book has a sequel to look forward to:

Sooner or later — probably sooner — I’ll write another astonishingly short novel about Odd. I want to send him to Jerusalem, where the Vikings went, and further than that. He’s an extraordinarily delightful character to write, after all…

Odd is an extraordinarily delightful character to read about, as well, so it will be interesting to follow him on his continued adventures, wherever they take him, and see if he eventually makes it home again, smile intact.

Recommended Reading Level: Ages 9-12.

Order now at Amazon.com:
Odd and the Frost Giants (Canada)
Odd and the Frost Giants (US)
Odd and the Frost Giants Unabridged CD Audiobook (Canada)
Odd and the Frost Giants Unabridged CD Audiobook (US)

Online bonus:
Book Trailer — Listen to Gaiman’s narrated summary of Odd and the Frost Giants in the book’s animated trailer. It’s a great precursor to the audiobook read by the author.

Odd and the Frost Giants is distributed by HarperCollins Children’s Books, a division of HarperCollinsCanada and HarperCollins Publishers. For more information on the book and its author, visit the Neil Gaiman website and its related website for young readers, Mouse Circus. Neil Gaiman may also be followed on Twitter.

From the depths of the sea (or the shelves of the bookstore, as the case may be) comes Quirk Classics’ newest addition to the Jane Austen bookshelf: Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters. Following in the blood-strewn footsteps of Seth Grahame-Smith’s Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, author Ben H. Winters joins forces with Jane Austen to produce a “tale of romance, heartbreak, and tentacled mayhem,” as the back cover informs us. As the narratives of these two authors join together readers find themselves immersed in a world in which the mysterious Alteration has caused all manner of sea critters to fight against man, the ocean one big steaming soup pot of ill-tempered bouillabaisse.

Significantly more extended from the original Austen text than Zombies, Sea Monsters achieves a type of Gilligan’s Island-meets-the-English-countryside, as Norton Park, estate of Sir John Middleton, is transformed into a windswept archipelago off the Devonshire coast, with Norton Cottage situated on the charmingly named Pestilent Isle. The rolling English hills, woody forests, and pastoral views of the original text are replaced with a smoldering steam-venting mountain, hostile plantlife, mysterious chanting Island natives, and tiki torches. Oh, and let’s not forget the chowder of sea life waiting in the softly lapping waves to sting, maim, and eat their corseted enemies.

Sir John Middleton gets a boost of interest as a middle-aged adventurer, a daring world traveller with a collection of sea treasures, which includes his wife Lady Middleton, her coldness and aloofness quite logically explained by the fact that John Middleton stole her away from her native island in a sack. Likewise her mother, Mrs. Jennings, and sister, Mrs. Palmer, were taken back to England like so many souvenirs. One could, if one were inclined to analyze Sea Monsters in a literary way, interpret this as a dig against the English way of colonizing. Just saying.

At the invitation of John Middleton comes the family Dashwood — mother and three sisters — to live at Barton Cottage, where they are soon swept up in a sea of social activities, games, pirate-themed parties, and romantic confusion. Staid Elinor hides her feelings from the proper Edward Ferrars when the news of his engagement to Lucy Steele hits her like a rogue wave, while passionate Marianne finds herself between the gold-digging Willoughby (his insignia in Sea Monsters is comprised of shovels in the formation of a “W”) and the fish-faced Colonel Brandon, who, by a sea witch curse, seems to have found himself sporting a full beard of tentacles. Which only plays up that “judging by appearances” thing. And Margaret? Well, she’s gone a bit cocoloco in the jungle of Pestilent Isle.

Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters employs a similar formula to Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. But instead of zombies, ninjas, and katana swords, Sea Monsters is liberally watered with sea monsters, pirates, and driftwood sculptures. And all those social dinners and good eating of the original text become an all-you-can-eat seafood buffet, as the Dashwoods and their friends attempt to eat their enemies whole, filleted, and with a dab of butter.

But why sea monsters? Well, why not? There’s a fair bit of gloomy English rain in the original novel anyways, so it’s not that much of stretch to have Marianne saved by the dashing Willoughby from a malevolent octopus instead of saved from the rain and a bit of a turned ankle. And it’s all in good fun when a jellyfish of ogre proportions suddenly launches itself out of the ocean and puts a bit of a damper on the beach party by swallowing and dissolving one of the party guests.

Furthermore, the cantankerous sea serves as one big aquatic metaphor for the delicate social fabric of Jane Austen’s England. When Elinor and Marianne go to town, they go not to some mundane English city, but to an Atlantis-type world known as Sub-Marine Station Beta. Here, as the action of the novel heats up, our heroines are literally trapped by social convention; not just surrounded by gaping mouths as on Pestilent Isle, but fully and completely submersed into the stew of social stings and bites in a glass-domed underwater city. Floundering to keep the gossips and the vengeful circus lobsters at bay, Elinor and Marianne are nevertheless swept into a tidal pool of deceit and misunderstandings.

The army of ire-filled water beasts are also a perfect foil for the unmentionable aspects of English society. It is no accident that aquatic attacks occur at the most socially awkward moments. While Lucy Steele blethers on in her typical ignorantly blissful fashion of her secret engagement to Edward Ferrars, the lovesick and mortified Elinor fights off the two-headed Devonshire Fang-Beast. And when Elinor, Lucy, and Edward are later trapped together in the same room, forced to make pleasantries in a most awkward way, their writhing emotions are mirrored by the death thrashes of a servant outside the glass dome who is eaten by a particularly toothsome anglerfish while trying to fix a filtration unit. While Lucy prattles and Edward and Elinor blush, the servant’s pleas for help become “a rather embarrassing violation of decorum; Elinor and her guests studiously ignored him, and his increasingly insistent thrashing became the background to the ensuing uncomfortable exchange.”

As the visit to Sub-Marine Station Beta lengthens into weeks, the flurry of intricately hidden truths slowly comes undone, just as the dome itself is undone by the persistent tappings of a posse of swordfish. The spiderweb of cracks spreads throughout the dome like the whispery echoes of repeated gossip, the dome glass finally shattering in one spectacular explosion of truth by a particularly mythic narwhal and a gruesome bull walrus.

But the adventure isn’t over yet! Escaping from the dome, our heroines and their party must sail across the dangerous seas, outrunning the Pirate Dreadbeard and his cronies. And then there is the big catalyst of the story: the part where Marianne sits in wet grass, gets sick, and finally has a change of heart towards Colonel Brandon. Only it’s so much better when she goes to a swamp to ruminate, gets eaten alive by malarial mosquitoes, and is left in a delirium of pecking parakeets… oh, and finally has a change of heart towards Colonel Brandon.

In fact, everyone’s happiness is much grander with sea monsters. Elinor’s standoff with Willoughby is at gun point when she mistakes him for the Pirate Dreadbeard, Colonel Brandon retrieves Mrs. Dashwood for the ailing Marianne and slays the pirate, Edward is released from his engagement to Lucy, who is actually a sea witch, and Pestilent Isle is actually one giant, cranky sea monster!

Like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters concludes with a Reader’s Discussion Guide, meant to make one ponder the deeper meaning of Sea Monsters as well as snort with laughter. In fact, these questions really emphasize what this literary marriage of Austen and crotchety tunas is all about. One can take the novel to a new level, as outlined in question 2, and ponder the metaphorical link between monster attacks and painful personal setbacks, or one can, as outlined in question 10, try to name other works of Western literature that feature orangutan valets who are slain by pirates. Really, it’s all in how you read the book.

Order now at Amazon.com:
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters are distributed by Quirk Books (International/US) and Raincoast Books (Canada).