The problem with having an excellent series opener is keeping the momentum. You need to match or exceed the height of your first book, which can be tricky. Fortunately Insurgent has no problem hitting the bar that Divergent set, which was a great relief to me.
Insurgent picks up immediately where Divergent left off so there is no gap between the books to catch up on (although refreshing yourself on the previous book might be needed). Tris stopped the attack simulation and is fleeing with Tobias, Peter and Marcus to Amity headquarters outside of the city. Things are looking grim, with the Dauntless scattered and the Abnegation all but wiped out.
I was a little worried at the start that Insurgent would fall flat. Mostly this came in the form of Tris/Tobias relationship, which suddenly came to the forefront of the plot. Thankfully this was short-lived, otherwise there would have been another co-dependent couple in the YA world. As it stands, the moments where Tris breaks down and flees to Tobias are limited. However, their relationship then goes for a bumpy ride.
One of the strengths of Divergent is the way it put plot first and relationship second. Insurgent nearly saw the switch, but what actually occurs is a test of the strength of their relationship. Lies are told, secrets withheld and Tris realises she doesn't know Tobias at all. It was a thrill to see the female half of a couple keep her brains, personality and independence, although some of the repetitious motions of their relationship problems did drag. Overall Tris/Tobias get a big tick for being unconventional in a YA sense, but remaining true to how actual humans interact with one another.
On to the plot. Hand on heart I'll admit I got annoyed at the constant "go to faction, talk to people, move on to next faction" pattern that dominated the first third (or less) of the book. The constantly running around to get the measure of people in other factions annoyed me, but only marginally as I was also drinking in the sights. Amity seems like the luckiest faction to me, being outside the city and all.
I also enjoyed how all the characters are self-serving at least once during Insurgent. There is no banding together of deadly enemies for the good of the society, but individuals who stick together as long as it suits their means. There are tensions and arguments, even between friends where secrets and betrayals stretch out between them. Throughout it all Tris has to step carefully to find the truth and do what's best for the city. To be wary of everyone seems like the smartest approach.
One peeve that arose in Insurgent is the amount of bullet holes people amassed. Literally everyone gets shot at least once and if you haven't, well then you're missing out on a badge of honour. I would have liked a little more creativity with the fight scenes, but this never became a major issue. The other repetitive point that pops up is Tris' nervous habits, but somehow these flesh out her character and endear her to me.
In general Tris is conflicted throughout Insurgent about the events of the previous book. Grief, guilt and panic swell within her, rising up at inconvenient times to leave her more reluctant than ever to battle on. I felt compelled by her struggle and although the character growth is small, it is significant. She acts as any human in her situation would. She isn't invulnerable or inhuman. She needs to stop to catch her breath the same as anyone and this is another big tick.
Insurgent offers explanations about Divergent personalities, twisting and turning left, right and centre so that you are never a hundred percent sure who will prevail. There is a massive revelation at the end to do with the world/society that they live in and backs up my "the lack of detail in Divergent is intentional" mantra in my Divergent review. It wouldn't be very Amity or Abnegation of me to say "I told you so" but it would be Candor, so to those who criticised the little world history in Divergent. I. Told. You. So.
Self-indulgence over I will end on this. I read Insurgent in one day, a rare feat for me, so something must be right. It is a page-turner and I am very much invested in the series. Sure, there were little nagging details I picked up on, but these were small in regards to the bigger picture. I love everything about this series: the concept, the characters, the relationships and I will gush about it to anyone who listens. I am very much addicted to the Divergent series.
5/5 stars
The Slow Descent Into Music
For a long time I was a musical snub, insofar as I refused point blank to listen to music because I thought it was terrible. I was at an age where puberty was about to hit, so my peers were going ga-ga over different artists and I, being oh-so superior, decided that music wasn't worth any effort. I actively repelled it.
It sounds silly now, but can you blame me when the only artists I had as reference points were Steps, S Club 7, Busted and Abba (along with a host of equally cheesy popstars). None of the above groups seemed appealing, what with all their songs being over the top in the peppy stakes. If that was all the music world could offer me, I wasn't bother with it.
In contrast, my sister loved music. She loved choreographing her own dance routines, lip-syncing and general bouncing all over our shared bedroom to hits by the Spice Girls. She would screech "reach for the staaaars!" whenever I walked by and I would smile to myself, reassured by my choice to boycott these atrocious tunes.
Considering these days I never leave the house without my iPod, I quite clearly hit a turning point. It came in the form of a rebellious teenage singer-songwriter who grabbed my attention with her hit single, Complicated.
Yes, you heard right. Avril Lavigne was my first proper foray into the music industry.
She did what no other artist had done up to that point; she showed me that other genres existed. She wrote her own music (something I respect immensely even now), it was about life, it wasn't overtly poppy and I was taken by how "meaningful" said lyrics were. I could relate to the song and I liked the way it sounded. I especially liked Avril's image and wanted to emulate her (I asked for a skateboard for my birthday and never used it, but hey, it looked cool).
I didn't find or discover Avril Lavigne or her album Let Go on my own. Actually, I didn't discover her at all. My Mum gifted the album to me one birthday and I decided to give it a go, shoving it into my portable CD player (I can assure you those things were not portable). I was immediately hooked and when I got my first MP3 player a year or so later, I uploaded the album onto it, along with a few My Chemical Romance and The Rasmus tracks.
Despite turning a corner with regards to the way I perceived music, I still didn't fall head over heels in love with it. I had no obsessions or bands that I absolutely had to see in concert. I didn't desperately count down the days to a new release. I just kinda liked a few songs and didn't hate listening to the radio. That cataclysm didn't occur until I was thirteen and the band at the centre of it was Linkin Park.
How I discovered Linkin Park is a little less conventional when compared with the ways in which I've discovered all my favourite artists since then. I happened to be at home alone, flicking through the music channels the way my Mum does whenever the adverts are on. I did this out of habit and I wasn't paying much attention as I continually hit the down button on the remote. After a while something piqued my interest. Not the music. No, my interest was piqued by the music video, which happened to be in the form of an anime.
I love anime and manga, and have done since I was a kid (you can thank Pokemon for that love). Interested by the style of this video, I stopped to watch it and was immediately struck by the story it was telling. Coupled with the lyrics and vocals, it was a very moving and compelling experience. I clocked the name of the song and band (if you haven't already figured it out, it was Breaking the Habit by Linkin Park), and set off to discover more about them via the internet (I think we were still on dial-up in those days).
After seeing Breaking the Habit on television, I then listened to Numb via Yahoo! Music (oh those were the days!) and decided I needed the whole album. I physically needed Meteora. For the first time in my life I was pining after an album and I had done so after listening to two tracks.
What followed went a little like this: I went on a shopping trip with my parents (I hated shopping as a kid too) and while we were in Woolworths, we browsed the music department. I must have deliberately sought out Meteora in the 'L' section of the albums stand and I definitely remember finding it. I turned to my Mum and asked for the album, to which she replied "you can wait until Christmas" or something along those lines. I persisted and asked to her to buy it there and then, since it was the first time I'd laid my hands on a copy and thought it highly unlikely that she would be able to find it again. She agreed and stashed it away for Christmas.
That year I hurried to my stocking and pulled out the first CD looking present I found. Once I had my hands on Meteora, I never let go of it. I spent the whole of that Christmas listening to Linkin Park whilst playing Spyro: A Hero's Tail on PlayStation 2, and I have super fond memories of that time. Whenever I load up Spyro now, I think of that Christmas and Meteora.
As for my love of Linkin Park, it started right then. There wasn't a track on Meteora that I didn't like. My gamble had paid off and I'd found a band to be a devoted fan of. I am still a massive Linkin Park fan to this day and have an array of varied artists on my iPod to listen to whenever I can grab a moment.
Music is a massive part of my life now, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
It sounds silly now, but can you blame me when the only artists I had as reference points were Steps, S Club 7, Busted and Abba (along with a host of equally cheesy popstars). None of the above groups seemed appealing, what with all their songs being over the top in the peppy stakes. If that was all the music world could offer me, I wasn't bother with it.
In contrast, my sister loved music. She loved choreographing her own dance routines, lip-syncing and general bouncing all over our shared bedroom to hits by the Spice Girls. She would screech "reach for the staaaars!" whenever I walked by and I would smile to myself, reassured by my choice to boycott these atrocious tunes.
Considering these days I never leave the house without my iPod, I quite clearly hit a turning point. It came in the form of a rebellious teenage singer-songwriter who grabbed my attention with her hit single, Complicated.
Yes, you heard right. Avril Lavigne was my first proper foray into the music industry.
She did what no other artist had done up to that point; she showed me that other genres existed. She wrote her own music (something I respect immensely even now), it was about life, it wasn't overtly poppy and I was taken by how "meaningful" said lyrics were. I could relate to the song and I liked the way it sounded. I especially liked Avril's image and wanted to emulate her (I asked for a skateboard for my birthday and never used it, but hey, it looked cool).
I didn't find or discover Avril Lavigne or her album Let Go on my own. Actually, I didn't discover her at all. My Mum gifted the album to me one birthday and I decided to give it a go, shoving it into my portable CD player (I can assure you those things were not portable). I was immediately hooked and when I got my first MP3 player a year or so later, I uploaded the album onto it, along with a few My Chemical Romance and The Rasmus tracks.
Despite turning a corner with regards to the way I perceived music, I still didn't fall head over heels in love with it. I had no obsessions or bands that I absolutely had to see in concert. I didn't desperately count down the days to a new release. I just kinda liked a few songs and didn't hate listening to the radio. That cataclysm didn't occur until I was thirteen and the band at the centre of it was Linkin Park.
How I discovered Linkin Park is a little less conventional when compared with the ways in which I've discovered all my favourite artists since then. I happened to be at home alone, flicking through the music channels the way my Mum does whenever the adverts are on. I did this out of habit and I wasn't paying much attention as I continually hit the down button on the remote. After a while something piqued my interest. Not the music. No, my interest was piqued by the music video, which happened to be in the form of an anime.
I love anime and manga, and have done since I was a kid (you can thank Pokemon for that love). Interested by the style of this video, I stopped to watch it and was immediately struck by the story it was telling. Coupled with the lyrics and vocals, it was a very moving and compelling experience. I clocked the name of the song and band (if you haven't already figured it out, it was Breaking the Habit by Linkin Park), and set off to discover more about them via the internet (I think we were still on dial-up in those days).
After seeing Breaking the Habit on television, I then listened to Numb via Yahoo! Music (oh those were the days!) and decided I needed the whole album. I physically needed Meteora. For the first time in my life I was pining after an album and I had done so after listening to two tracks.
What followed went a little like this: I went on a shopping trip with my parents (I hated shopping as a kid too) and while we were in Woolworths, we browsed the music department. I must have deliberately sought out Meteora in the 'L' section of the albums stand and I definitely remember finding it. I turned to my Mum and asked for the album, to which she replied "you can wait until Christmas" or something along those lines. I persisted and asked to her to buy it there and then, since it was the first time I'd laid my hands on a copy and thought it highly unlikely that she would be able to find it again. She agreed and stashed it away for Christmas.
That year I hurried to my stocking and pulled out the first CD looking present I found. Once I had my hands on Meteora, I never let go of it. I spent the whole of that Christmas listening to Linkin Park whilst playing Spyro: A Hero's Tail on PlayStation 2, and I have super fond memories of that time. Whenever I load up Spyro now, I think of that Christmas and Meteora.
As for my love of Linkin Park, it started right then. There wasn't a track on Meteora that I didn't like. My gamble had paid off and I'd found a band to be a devoted fan of. I am still a massive Linkin Park fan to this day and have an array of varied artists on my iPod to listen to whenever I can grab a moment.
Music is a massive part of my life now, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
The Day I Flew The Nest (Temporarily)
Back in 2009 I left the family home in order to strike it out in the "real" world all on my lonesome. It was an emotionally loaded day, despite how hard I tried to play it cool and act like I didn't care I was leaving home. This mostly stemmed from an episode of utter sadness displayed by my little brother a few days earlier. He had started crying, devastated by my impending departure. Seeing him so upset had in turn upset me, which resulted in an explosion of tears.
I had then sworn there would be no more tears, no more sadness. This is what I wanted, after all. University was where "it" was at, whatever "it" may be and I would not embarrass myself in front of my new roommates.
So, kicking around in the back of my mind was the promise to myself that I would not cry. Not even when I saw how badly my room looked (sparse and mouldy with the distinctive smell of disuse). Not even when all my belongings were piled up in the middle of the room (looking forlorn and lonely). Not even when I met my new flatmates, from various floors, and realised how crippling my social awkwardness could be.
No, I would not cry. Instead I focused on what was before me.
I did ponder a lot, on that fateful morning. Mostly my thoughts were "did the halls look this bad when I visited them on the Open Day?" and "is this really worth £95 a week?" Both of the answers to this question were no, but it hardly seemed worth pursuing. We (meaning my Dad) had two flights of stairs to climb in order to deposit my many suitcases and boxes on the floor of my room.
We also had a meeting to attend and we were late enough as it was due to excessive amounts of traffic in the car park, so we rushed off to the introductory lecture on campus. Too busy to really contemplate my fate, I had managed to retain all my tears. I felt badass and grown-up. Things were going the way I wanted them to.
Despite our rushing to the lecture hall where our introductory meeting was to be held, we missed our given timeslot. No problem. It was a gloriously sunny day, unseasonably warm for September and there were free drinks on offer. We sat out in the sun with some cake and orange juice and took in the sights. I spent the time imagining myself rushing about to and from lectures. This was campus and boy did it look cool. I couldn't wait to start.
The happy image burst like the fragile bubble it was when we returned to my bedroom a while later. My parents couldn't stick around as they needed to return to my sister and brother. We'd spent only two-three hours together and I was not ready to see them leave. Other students were going for meals with their parents. I wanted that too!
Instead, I got rejected. Condemned to feed myself on the very first night of studenthood. But no, I was going to hold it together. I was not going to cry! I would be strong and mature. And I might have been, until my father returned from the supermarket with a few last minute purchases.
Dad: Here! I bought you some tissues, just in case you need them.
Me: *looks at tissues and promptly bursts into tears*
Dad: *looking startled* I was only joking.
Mum: Look what you've done.
So, I eventually got the crying out of the way. I felt stupid, yes, and I had been so close to achieving ultimate calm, but I think I needed to let out any upset I might have had at seeing my parents return home without me. I glared at my Dad for his tactless attempt at humour and he hugged me to say sorry. It didn't make up for the fact they were leaving early or that I'd cried, because I bet none of the other students had cried when their parents left them.
My parents assured me they would be visiting soon (within two weeks) with my sister and brother so that they could see where I now lived. It didn't make me feel a lot better, but it did give me something to look forward to.
Eventually the time for them to leave arrived. I watched them drive away from the kitchen window, a wave of sadness and fear washing over me as I released I was well and truly alone now (except for my new roommates). This was not how I imagined my first day of independence going. I thought I would manage some wit and intelligence, making new friends wherever I walked. I was not supposed to be curled up in a foetal position.
I went and made a cup of tea, because tea makes everything better. It is the equivalent of a comfort blanket. You've had a hard day, you make a cup of tea. Your favourite show is cancelled, you make a cup of tea. A member of your family has died, you make a cup of tea.
Your parents have abandoned you, you make a cup of tea. And after that, things didn't seem so bad.
I had then sworn there would be no more tears, no more sadness. This is what I wanted, after all. University was where "it" was at, whatever "it" may be and I would not embarrass myself in front of my new roommates.
So, kicking around in the back of my mind was the promise to myself that I would not cry. Not even when I saw how badly my room looked (sparse and mouldy with the distinctive smell of disuse). Not even when all my belongings were piled up in the middle of the room (looking forlorn and lonely). Not even when I met my new flatmates, from various floors, and realised how crippling my social awkwardness could be.
No, I would not cry. Instead I focused on what was before me.
I did ponder a lot, on that fateful morning. Mostly my thoughts were "did the halls look this bad when I visited them on the Open Day?" and "is this really worth £95 a week?" Both of the answers to this question were no, but it hardly seemed worth pursuing. We (meaning my Dad) had two flights of stairs to climb in order to deposit my many suitcases and boxes on the floor of my room.
We also had a meeting to attend and we were late enough as it was due to excessive amounts of traffic in the car park, so we rushed off to the introductory lecture on campus. Too busy to really contemplate my fate, I had managed to retain all my tears. I felt badass and grown-up. Things were going the way I wanted them to.
Despite our rushing to the lecture hall where our introductory meeting was to be held, we missed our given timeslot. No problem. It was a gloriously sunny day, unseasonably warm for September and there were free drinks on offer. We sat out in the sun with some cake and orange juice and took in the sights. I spent the time imagining myself rushing about to and from lectures. This was campus and boy did it look cool. I couldn't wait to start.
The happy image burst like the fragile bubble it was when we returned to my bedroom a while later. My parents couldn't stick around as they needed to return to my sister and brother. We'd spent only two-three hours together and I was not ready to see them leave. Other students were going for meals with their parents. I wanted that too!
Instead, I got rejected. Condemned to feed myself on the very first night of studenthood. But no, I was going to hold it together. I was not going to cry! I would be strong and mature. And I might have been, until my father returned from the supermarket with a few last minute purchases.
Dad: Here! I bought you some tissues, just in case you need them.
Me: *looks at tissues and promptly bursts into tears*
Dad: *looking startled* I was only joking.
Mum: Look what you've done.
So, I eventually got the crying out of the way. I felt stupid, yes, and I had been so close to achieving ultimate calm, but I think I needed to let out any upset I might have had at seeing my parents return home without me. I glared at my Dad for his tactless attempt at humour and he hugged me to say sorry. It didn't make up for the fact they were leaving early or that I'd cried, because I bet none of the other students had cried when their parents left them.
My parents assured me they would be visiting soon (within two weeks) with my sister and brother so that they could see where I now lived. It didn't make me feel a lot better, but it did give me something to look forward to.
Eventually the time for them to leave arrived. I watched them drive away from the kitchen window, a wave of sadness and fear washing over me as I released I was well and truly alone now (except for my new roommates). This was not how I imagined my first day of independence going. I thought I would manage some wit and intelligence, making new friends wherever I walked. I was not supposed to be curled up in a foetal position.
I went and made a cup of tea, because tea makes everything better. It is the equivalent of a comfort blanket. You've had a hard day, you make a cup of tea. Your favourite show is cancelled, you make a cup of tea. A member of your family has died, you make a cup of tea.
Your parents have abandoned you, you make a cup of tea. And after that, things didn't seem so bad.
University Days
My university days are well and truly behind me. It's been over a whole year since I finished my dissertation and final exams. I can safely say I have moved on, not just physically but emotionally. The times of pining for the days of past are over too, and I have to say that's a big relief.
When you come out of university, you metaphorically let out a deep sigh. You never thought you would get through to the other end of your third year. You thought the dissertation would chew you up and if that didn't destroy you, then your final exams would. That you made it is a testament to either your nerve or your stubbornness. You spend the first few weeks of freedom relaxing. You deserve it! You made it! Plus, you're all burnt out from the effort. However, once the honeymoon period ends, and the glow of success fades, panic starts to set in.
See, for the first eighteen/twenty-one years of your life, next year was already planned. Loosely, but you knew it would be academic related. You knew you would have classes to attend, coursework to complete, exams to revise for. Other details would be filled in as you went along, but you were guaranteed something to be a part of. Then you finish university and the rest of your life stretches out before you. No longer are you a hundred percent sure of where you will be. Your life is now one long blank page and you need to start filling in the details yourself.
You might get a job straight off the mark. You might go travelling. You might chill out and do a mixture of things at a leisurely pace. However, you will pine for your university days at least once, if not more. You will effectively scream at the sky, "take me back!" as you try to figure out how to navigate adult life.
The first stumbling block hits you around October. You see freshers or your friends or other young people head off to university for the first/second/third time and suddenly realise that THAT ISN'T YOUR LIFE ANYMORE, and you desperately want it to be. You want to go back and be a lazy student. You want to be relaxed again, and not have major, possibly life-wrecking if made incorrectly, decisions to make.
These feelings come and go like waves. Some will be stronger than others and drown you in nostalgia, some will be quiet musings as you go about your day. You'll miss your friends, roommates, coursemates. You'll miss staying up all night long and forgoing sleep as you have a super important lecture to get to at nine in the morning. You'll miss randomly hitting the cinemas, bowling alleys, bars at whatever o'clock (normally stupid) as you're bored and have nothing better to do. You will miss it all and want to go back.
I thought those feelings would never end. I thought I would always miss university the way your parents told you that you'd miss your childhood ("enjoy your school days now, kids, for you'll miss it when it's gone!"). I thought I would always look back and sigh, lost in melancholy. But, I recently discovered I no longer miss being a student. I have effectively moved past the past and am looking forward to the future, to what is next.
I discovered this when I went back to my university town a few weeks ago, to reunite with two of my closest university friends. Staring around the city centre I found that although it wasn't unrecognisable, it didn't look familiar. It looked strange and alien. There had been some aesthetic changes, the roads redone and certain buildings replaced, but even with them the place didn't feel like home, nor did I long for it like I did when I headed back there for my graduation. I spotted students too, now studying at my university, but I felt no jealousy. Sure, it was good to be back there, but I didn't want to stay. I was happy to head home after seeing my friends.
I am glad that those feelings are gone and I hope they stay gone, tucked away so I can remember my student days fondly and without an overwhelming urge to go back and do it again. That's not to say I wouldn't go back to university if I could. I would do it in a heartbeat, but not to repeat my first years as a student. I would do it again to do something new, study something new or even expand upon my first degree.
It's a relief that I've moved on and it feels empowering. I'm looking forward to whatever life has to offer next.
Divergent by Veronica Roth [Review]
For a while now I’ve been looking for a book series to be utterly swept away by. After weeks of mediocre (but enjoyable) reads I came across Divergent, via a YouTube comment. Compelled, I Googled the title and became further enamoured with its concept. I needed the book immediately, so I ordered it without a second thought and here we are today. My gut instinct was on the money with this series and I am obsessed, much the way I was beginning The Hunger Games.
Five stars normally seems excessive, but not for Divergent I literally could not put it down. The premise is a dystopian world where all citizens are split into one of five factions on their sixteenth birthday. These five factions are based on a prevailing trait or way of living: Abnegation (selflessness), Amity (peacefulness), Candor (honesty), Dauntless (bravery) and Erudite (intelligence). The mantra of the world is faction over blood, so when you choose your loyalty switches.
For a dystopian novel some might say it is strange that this is all we know about this world, the what and not the why, but I found it oddly satisfying and found myself easily being swept away into this society despite not knowing how it came to be. The whole process is gripping: the aptitude test, the Choosing Ceremony and the initiation. I felt hungry to know how each stage went and where the next one would head. I couldn’t stop after completing one; I needed to keep going.
I also get the overwhelming sense that the lack of world building is intentional and that we aren’t meant to know much of the city’s history purely because its own citizens don’t know. We are only supposed to know as much as the characters and it becomes quite clear early on that they don’t know a lot. This helps to see the society through their eyes, bias and all, and means that any later revelations (which I know will come) will be a surprise to us as well as our cast. It is claustrophobic and closed-off, heightening the sense of danger.
That is just the setting, just the society. This is before the plot, characters or relationships come into play. I utterly lost myself at the start and from then on in it was action-packed, pacey and heart-wrenching. Our main character is sixteen-year-old Beatrice (later Tris) who leaves Abnegation (and her parents) for Dauntless. I loved her. She felt real to me, your typical sixteen-year-old with typical concerns, which was very refreshing from those MCs who are automatically self-assured or badass (Rose Hathaway and Katniss Everdeen).
Some criticise Tris for being weak, but I never felt that. She sits comfortable between popular and disliked. She doesn’t cause people to fall in love with her or like her instantly upon meeting them, she has a good mixture of friends and enemies, she doesn’t automatically become badass upon choosing Dauntless but earns it by working hard to cover her weaknesses. She is all in all a very real girl, with very real fears. I loved her narrative voice and loved seeing this world from inside her head, biases and all.
Most of all I loved how the (inevitable) romance side of things was handled. The word I’d choose to describe it is organic. There was no instalove (a pet peeve of mine in YA novels) and the plot was never jeopardised for the sake of the growing relationship. It snuck up on our MC and started tentatively, carefully. By the end of Divergent the relationship is just starting, an utter strength of the book to not go all goo-goo-eyed at the first sign of attraction. Again, very realistic and very much how you’d expect a teenage romance to go. All the teenage couples in Divergent are realistic and nothing like the proclamations of eternal love other YA books dish out on a regular occurrence.
Finally, the plot itself. Divergent mostly focuses on Tris and her friends as they progress through the Dauntless initiation, but you definitely get a sense of tensions rising in the mechanics of their world. You start out with a perfect system (to the characters) and learn about its flaws the more Tris experiences of it. Therefore, I never felt that all the major plot elements were rammed in at the end. I felt that the explosion of action at the finale was natural and a result of a well-paced novel. There were many twists and turns that I didn’t expect, which added to the drive to devour this book in record time.
Overall it is punchy and brilliant paced, the plot and action creeping, creeping until you are thrown head first into a dangerous situation. It isn't afraid to get emotional or pull at your heartstrings, packing punches at pivotal moments. I get the sense that we’ll learn more about this world as the series progresses and that we’ll find not everything is as it seems. Right now though Divergent has set the bar very high for the other books and I can’t wait until I get my hands on Insurgent. An absolutely fantastic novel.
5/5 stars
Five stars normally seems excessive, but not for Divergent I literally could not put it down. The premise is a dystopian world where all citizens are split into one of five factions on their sixteenth birthday. These five factions are based on a prevailing trait or way of living: Abnegation (selflessness), Amity (peacefulness), Candor (honesty), Dauntless (bravery) and Erudite (intelligence). The mantra of the world is faction over blood, so when you choose your loyalty switches.
For a dystopian novel some might say it is strange that this is all we know about this world, the what and not the why, but I found it oddly satisfying and found myself easily being swept away into this society despite not knowing how it came to be. The whole process is gripping: the aptitude test, the Choosing Ceremony and the initiation. I felt hungry to know how each stage went and where the next one would head. I couldn’t stop after completing one; I needed to keep going.
I also get the overwhelming sense that the lack of world building is intentional and that we aren’t meant to know much of the city’s history purely because its own citizens don’t know. We are only supposed to know as much as the characters and it becomes quite clear early on that they don’t know a lot. This helps to see the society through their eyes, bias and all, and means that any later revelations (which I know will come) will be a surprise to us as well as our cast. It is claustrophobic and closed-off, heightening the sense of danger.
That is just the setting, just the society. This is before the plot, characters or relationships come into play. I utterly lost myself at the start and from then on in it was action-packed, pacey and heart-wrenching. Our main character is sixteen-year-old Beatrice (later Tris) who leaves Abnegation (and her parents) for Dauntless. I loved her. She felt real to me, your typical sixteen-year-old with typical concerns, which was very refreshing from those MCs who are automatically self-assured or badass (Rose Hathaway and Katniss Everdeen).
Some criticise Tris for being weak, but I never felt that. She sits comfortable between popular and disliked. She doesn’t cause people to fall in love with her or like her instantly upon meeting them, she has a good mixture of friends and enemies, she doesn’t automatically become badass upon choosing Dauntless but earns it by working hard to cover her weaknesses. She is all in all a very real girl, with very real fears. I loved her narrative voice and loved seeing this world from inside her head, biases and all.
Most of all I loved how the (inevitable) romance side of things was handled. The word I’d choose to describe it is organic. There was no instalove (a pet peeve of mine in YA novels) and the plot was never jeopardised for the sake of the growing relationship. It snuck up on our MC and started tentatively, carefully. By the end of Divergent the relationship is just starting, an utter strength of the book to not go all goo-goo-eyed at the first sign of attraction. Again, very realistic and very much how you’d expect a teenage romance to go. All the teenage couples in Divergent are realistic and nothing like the proclamations of eternal love other YA books dish out on a regular occurrence.
Finally, the plot itself. Divergent mostly focuses on Tris and her friends as they progress through the Dauntless initiation, but you definitely get a sense of tensions rising in the mechanics of their world. You start out with a perfect system (to the characters) and learn about its flaws the more Tris experiences of it. Therefore, I never felt that all the major plot elements were rammed in at the end. I felt that the explosion of action at the finale was natural and a result of a well-paced novel. There were many twists and turns that I didn’t expect, which added to the drive to devour this book in record time.
Overall it is punchy and brilliant paced, the plot and action creeping, creeping until you are thrown head first into a dangerous situation. It isn't afraid to get emotional or pull at your heartstrings, packing punches at pivotal moments. I get the sense that we’ll learn more about this world as the series progresses and that we’ll find not everything is as it seems. Right now though Divergent has set the bar very high for the other books and I can’t wait until I get my hands on Insurgent. An absolutely fantastic novel.
5/5 stars
The Existential Crisis (Or The Young Adult Version of a Mid-Life Crisis)
Every day since finishing school at the naive age of eighteen, I have had at least one existential crisis a week (okay, that might be an exaggeration but they do happen more frequently then I'd like). This is down to how badly prepared I was before leaving school. Harsh, but I feel like schools fail children and parents try to protect them, which combined makes for some very confusing early years in the adult world.
These existential crises were minimal in university, not actually starting until the middle of my second year. I think everyone who goes to university gets this. I'll call it "the grass is greener on the other-side" revelation. This is where you are struggling with your academic work, freaking out about the amount of debt you've amassed thus far with the optional addition of watching your non-university friends blossom under their non-university life choices. It goes like this:
Since leaving university I've been having existential crises pretty regularly. It comes from having an uncertain future and fervently regretting past decisions (unfairly, I might add, but the panic fuels a biased perception of the way things stand). The symptoms of this full-on existential crisis are different from the midway university panic in that they have a pretty hefty impact on how I currently feel about myself and how I might move forwards in order to allay my fears.
See, this thought that gets in your head, the one where you don't know what the hell you're doing with your life, and it's based on what you did to get there (i.e. completing a degree). It has the added kick of making you feel like you're wasting time (time that you become suddenly aware of is limited) and you panic that you're missing out on key life moments. You should be travelling, socialising, living on your own, working, earning your own money ... but you're not, you're unemployed (in my case). You doubt everything you've ever done and you fear that nothing will turn out right. You have no future.
So this is life since leaving school and is probably a cycle a lot of people go through, almost like a rite of passage for all young adults to go through in order to official "grow-up." I would most definitely describe it as the young adult's version of a midlife crisis.
These existential crises were minimal in university, not actually starting until the middle of my second year. I think everyone who goes to university gets this. I'll call it "the grass is greener on the other-side" revelation. This is where you are struggling with your academic work, freaking out about the amount of debt you've amassed thus far with the optional addition of watching your non-university friends blossom under their non-university life choices. It goes like this:
- Doubting you've made the right decision.
- Doubting you'll ever get a job related to whatever degree you are pursuing.
- Thinking you might be more successful if you'd stayed at home and found work/done an apprenticeship/lived off Mummy and Daddy.
- Panicking about the amount of debt under your name.
- Figuring that you'll never succeed at your coursework/exams.
- Feeling like a prize loser.
- While secretly being very, very homesick.
Since leaving university I've been having existential crises pretty regularly. It comes from having an uncertain future and fervently regretting past decisions (unfairly, I might add, but the panic fuels a biased perception of the way things stand). The symptoms of this full-on existential crisis are different from the midway university panic in that they have a pretty hefty impact on how I currently feel about myself and how I might move forwards in order to allay my fears.
See, this thought that gets in your head, the one where you don't know what the hell you're doing with your life, and it's based on what you did to get there (i.e. completing a degree). It has the added kick of making you feel like you're wasting time (time that you become suddenly aware of is limited) and you panic that you're missing out on key life moments. You should be travelling, socialising, living on your own, working, earning your own money ... but you're not, you're unemployed (in my case). You doubt everything you've ever done and you fear that nothing will turn out right. You have no future.
So this is life since leaving school and is probably a cycle a lot of people go through, almost like a rite of passage for all young adults to go through in order to official "grow-up." I would most definitely describe it as the young adult's version of a midlife crisis.
Why I Love Pokemon Yellow
While everyone is looking forwards towards the release of Pokemon X and Y, I've been going through the first generation of Pokemon games, more specifically Pokemon Yellow. This isn't out of some nostalgia driven hunger, although little shivers of excitement do pass through me whenever the old battle tune starts. This is purely coincidental (I found my old cartridge, plugged it in and hey ho, I'm playing again) but it got me thinking about why Yellow inspires fuzzy feelings of warmth in Pokefans.
I loved Pokemon Yellow. Out of the first generation games it is ranked number one by me for the simple fact it has oodles of character. It takes the formula laid down by Red and Blue, and reworks a little of the anime magic into it to create a hybrid game that throws up familiar characters (Jesse and James) and familiar plots (collecting all three starter Pokemon the way Ash does in the cartoon series), yet retains the essence of the original first gen games (battling your way to the top of the Elite Four). You can't help but get sucked in by these elements, yet these are the smaller rewards that Yellow offers. In fact, the biggest draw of Yellow is a pocket-sized electric mouse.
Getting Pikachu as your starter Pokemon is a brilliant break away from the norm, but the best is yet to come, because Pikachu doesn't just travel with you on your belt of Poke balls. No, Pikachu follows you around wherever you go (as long as you don't cause Pikachu to faint in battle, of course).
This is a great addition that made you feel like a real Pokemon trainer for the first time. Seeing Pikachu react to the environment around you (the Bill moment made me laugh and the Clefairy moment coo) meant that you never felt like you were travelling alone. You had a partner there right beside you, going through changes and being awed by new situations that way you were. Plus, you had to win Pikachu's trust. The feeling of finally seeing Pikachu display love towards you cannot be underestimated. It was pure genius.
Sure, Pokemon walking alongside trainers was reintroduced in HeartGold and SoulSilver, but it never captured the same joy that Pikachu delivered in Yellow. Most of this stems from the generic actions that your Pokemon give whenever you click on them. Whereas Pikachu gave unique response, your Pokepals never had responses tailored to them (their type, their characteristics, their personality). There is pleasure in catching as many different Pokemon as possible to see what they look like walking beside you, but the HG/SS never develop their own character in the same way Pikachu did.
There is a big drive online to see Yellow remade the way Red/Blue and Gold/Silver/Crystal were. Personally I don't think this will work (although the mock-ups online almost make me change my mind) but I would love to see this game on the Nintendo handheld eShop. I honestly don't know why Nintendo hasn't done this yet already, but the GameBoy and GameBoy Advance Pokemon games would get a lovely home on the eShop. I'd certainly re-download all of them for the sheer nostalgia of it. Perhaps there are technical problems with an eShop version (trading and battling locally springs to mind), but I still firmly believe that the old generation needs to revived in its original form, starting with Yellow.
As for the remake, I would much rather that Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald get the next make-over, preferably with the upcoming 3DS engine. We've replayed Kanto and Johto a lot in recent years, so it's only fair that the Hoenn region can be re-explored. I'll keep my fingers crossed that we'll see both Yellow and Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald in the near future, either remade or on the eShop.
I loved Pokemon Yellow. Out of the first generation games it is ranked number one by me for the simple fact it has oodles of character. It takes the formula laid down by Red and Blue, and reworks a little of the anime magic into it to create a hybrid game that throws up familiar characters (Jesse and James) and familiar plots (collecting all three starter Pokemon the way Ash does in the cartoon series), yet retains the essence of the original first gen games (battling your way to the top of the Elite Four). You can't help but get sucked in by these elements, yet these are the smaller rewards that Yellow offers. In fact, the biggest draw of Yellow is a pocket-sized electric mouse.
Getting Pikachu as your starter Pokemon is a brilliant break away from the norm, but the best is yet to come, because Pikachu doesn't just travel with you on your belt of Poke balls. No, Pikachu follows you around wherever you go (as long as you don't cause Pikachu to faint in battle, of course).
This is a great addition that made you feel like a real Pokemon trainer for the first time. Seeing Pikachu react to the environment around you (the Bill moment made me laugh and the Clefairy moment coo) meant that you never felt like you were travelling alone. You had a partner there right beside you, going through changes and being awed by new situations that way you were. Plus, you had to win Pikachu's trust. The feeling of finally seeing Pikachu display love towards you cannot be underestimated. It was pure genius.
Sure, Pokemon walking alongside trainers was reintroduced in HeartGold and SoulSilver, but it never captured the same joy that Pikachu delivered in Yellow. Most of this stems from the generic actions that your Pokemon give whenever you click on them. Whereas Pikachu gave unique response, your Pokepals never had responses tailored to them (their type, their characteristics, their personality). There is pleasure in catching as many different Pokemon as possible to see what they look like walking beside you, but the HG/SS never develop their own character in the same way Pikachu did.
There is a big drive online to see Yellow remade the way Red/Blue and Gold/Silver/Crystal were. Personally I don't think this will work (although the mock-ups online almost make me change my mind) but I would love to see this game on the Nintendo handheld eShop. I honestly don't know why Nintendo hasn't done this yet already, but the GameBoy and GameBoy Advance Pokemon games would get a lovely home on the eShop. I'd certainly re-download all of them for the sheer nostalgia of it. Perhaps there are technical problems with an eShop version (trading and battling locally springs to mind), but I still firmly believe that the old generation needs to revived in its original form, starting with Yellow.
As for the remake, I would much rather that Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald get the next make-over, preferably with the upcoming 3DS engine. We've replayed Kanto and Johto a lot in recent years, so it's only fair that the Hoenn region can be re-explored. I'll keep my fingers crossed that we'll see both Yellow and Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald in the near future, either remade or on the eShop.