Review: A Spy in the House, by Y.S. Lee

A Spy in the House, the first book in The Agency/Mary Quinn Mystery series feels like a rarity in the realm of Young Adult fiction. Whereas virtually every other series of books you might find in the YA section involves either some form of magic or a futuristic dystopia, the books in The Agency series are a throwback. They are like Nancy Drew for modern times, though ironically they are set in the Victorian era.

A Spy in the House might also be considered a crossover novel. The writing is unflinching in telling of the exploitation and violence that stalked the lower classes and outsiders of Victorian England. It's also handled in a mature way that can appeal to both adolescents and adults. While Y.S. Lee's debut borrows heavily from some cliches (e.g. the orphaned heroine), she also takes it in some refreshing new directions, which I'll get into beyond the jump. Any attempt to simplify or categorize the book doesn't really do it justice, however. Quite simply, the story works because it is fun and engaging.

Lee uses her background as a scholar of Victorian literature to good effect in telling the story of Mary Quinn, a street urchin who is saved from hanging by a reform school. After progressing through the school to become a teacher, she gains the knowledge that the school is actually a front for a secret agency. Lee knows the particular expectations that Victorian society places on women.  So the agency carries out work that women have the distinct opportunity to do: to blend in, be unnoticed and unheard.

She offers historical details of daily life that flavour the narrative. She tries for a formalness in the dialogue without belabouring it. Though it sometimes errs a bit on the colloquial side, it strikes a fine balance between historical accuracy and accessibility. The author extends this crossing between the historical period and our time by having characters with seemingly modern sensibilities. This might feel like a cheat, but as Lee herself points out that this is fiction in the jacket notes:

If a top secret women's detective agency existed in Victorian England, it left no evidence - just as well, since that would cast serious doubt on its competence. The Agency is a totally unrealistic, completely fictitious antidote to the fate that would otherwise swallow a girl like Mary Quinn.

There were other aspects of Lee's writing that had more mixed results. It was nice to have second third person narrative POV rather than rely on the tried and true first person so common these days. However doing so early on in the story eliminated a potential source of mystery and tension in this second character. I also didn't get sense that Mary had a particularly major role in resolving the case, but that also seems in line with an agent's first mission and it will be interesting to see how active she becomes in later novels. The dysfunctional Victorian family at the heart of the mystery wasn't fleshed out fully, with somewhat nebulous motivations and reactions. The story also relied on some coincidence along the way, although the largest coincidence did not really affect the plot but added layer of motivation for the heroine.

The most striking aspect of A Spy in the House requires a minor spoiler alert to discuss.

Flash Fiction: 5-Minute Writing Prompt #1

I've been on a writing blitz lately, so I've been slack in updating this site, which seems a bit ridiculous, something I've only figured out now. So instead of trying to come up with other ideas to write about, I'll start sharing some actual writing!

The writers group I participate in starts out every meeting with a writing prompt exercise. Someone grabs a random book from the shelves of the library where we meet and picks out a page.  The first sentence of the page becomes our writing prompt and we have five minutes to come up with something. Every now and then, I actually come up with something coherent, so I'm happy to share it.

Today's writing prompt is the sentence, "That's the park."

Let's see what I came up with after the jump....

The Over-Research Trap

Having written earlier about the joys of historical documentaries as well as warnings from the past, it's natural that I've recently turned my attention to historical fiction, as both a reader (expect a new review soon) and a writer. While this may seem like something of a change from the fantasy I usually work on, it's something I've done in the past, and it's about a historical subject that I'm enthusiastic about and have studied extensively. It's a pleasure to dive into the research.

And therein lies the trap. It's something several friends of mine can attest to is a common obstacle when writing historical fiction. That is problem is over-research.

Learning from History, YouTube Style!

When times seem uncertain, I think one of the most useful ways to gain a bit of clarity is by studying history. We've now had several millenia of human history and stories from ancient history might seem, not to put too fine a point on it, ancient history. But the fact is, when something happens in the present, chances are a very similar situation happened in the past and usually on several occasions. The tricky part is figuring which example from history the present course of events is most likely to follow. Is the current state of the world most closely mimicking the 1930's, or is it the turn of the last century battle between the robber barons and the progressives? Or can we look to the late Roman Empire for guidance?

For my part, those are rhetorical questions. All I know is that Cars is a prophecy of the future. Yes, I am obsessed with that movie.

Ultimately, the more knowledge the better. And a great place to gain that knowledge in quick and digestible format is YouTube. With some warnings of course. I've written before about my love of finding documentaries on YouTube. There are certainly a lot of great history documentaries available there. But there are also a lot of weird, amateurish consipiracy nutjob docos too, though much of it little distinguishable from the History Channel's current Ancient Aliens lineup.

My advice is to search for and double check that the documentary is produced in association with one of the reputable TV channels, such as BBC, PBS or Channel 4, or even Discovery or History, if it's an older show.

But there's also another weird phenomenon I've noticed with these documentaries. History docs are not necessarily the most sexy material (try as it might), so some uploaders have resorted to using "porny" thumbnails as clickbait.

Reading List: It Sure Can Happen Here

When I was growing up, one of my favourite miniseries ever was V (the original). I think I liked the sequel even better, because in that one, we finally win! Humans beating the evil aliens was pretty much the main message I got out of it. I was too young to catch any subtext to the story, namely its Nazism/Holocaust allegory. It seemed blindingly obvious when I was older. I mean hey, c'mon:

But to little kid version of me, once I saw lizard faces, motherships and cool blasters, what more was there to see? It was only when I rewatched the shows in my adolescence that I picked up on the message hiding (just barely) under the surface. Suddenly, adolescent me thought this was the most profound thing ever put on television. At that age, I still wasn't exactly deep.

As I grew older, not only did V's central allegory seem way too on the nose, it also seemed to lack relevance. Ethnic cleansing and genocide were certainly out there in the public consciousness, but here in the Western World, the idea that people could so easily allow an insidious movement to subvert the basic human decency of people well aware of what happened in World War II seemed painfully quaint. Overdone.

And yet here we are. I'm not even going to bother listing all the things going on in the world, because if you don't even know, this blog probably isn't for you. Writing that might have seemed dated a few decades ago is now totally of the moment.

Respect

Fusion had a piece today about Stan Lee promoting a new lapel pin designed to encourage "cross-cultural respect." Its design is a simple image of two hands shaking, one black, one white, with the word "Respect" emblazoned across the top.

With the profusion of so many lapel pins promoting every message imaginable, this is one of the more admirable. And it reminded me of something the legendary comics creator wrote in his famous "Soapbox" editorial back in 1970. Here's a link to a scan via Boing Boing. In it, he quite simply states that "Bigotry and racism are among the deadliest social ills plaguing the world today." Trolling fanboys should take note. He's been interested in spreading this message to people through many different media for years and years. And while his message today might seem too Pollyanna-ish for those who feel social justice requires a more aggressive stance, it's a message I can respect.

And I'll try to forget about Stripperella.

Review: Red Sky, Black Death, by Anna Timofeyeva-Yegorova

Translated by Margarita Ponomariova and Kim Green

As a source of stories and ideas, is there anything that can compare to World War II? Its scale and impact was so monumental, it seems every type of conflict affecting people from all walks of life and all corners of the world, every moral dimension and literary archetype can be drawn from the real life experiences of the war. For a time period that has been covered as extensively as it has been by our popular culture over the past six decades, there still seem to be limitless supplies of new and compelling stories to be mined from its depths.

The most recent example I've encountered is also one of the best military memoirs I can recall reading. Red Sky, Black Death is the story of Anna Yegorova, a ground attack pilot who fought for the Soviet Union during World War II. The book traces her youth, from her time as a proud communist worker building the Moscow underground, to becoming one of the world's only female attack plane pilots, finally ending with her struggle against the shameful stigma placed on her by Stalin's policies as a former prisoner of war. The Soviet Union was the only country to officially recruit women for combat duty during the war. Even having read numerous first hand accounts and non-fiction books on the subject of Soviet women combat pilots, Yegorova's story still surprised and enthralled me in equal parts.

First and foremost, what stands out is the quality of writing and translating. Yegorova's experiences are interesting enough on their own, however, given the length of time that has passed, it could easily devolve into either unlinked snippets of memories or a grocery list of events. It is neither of these things. The book is a story and it holds together a clear sense of events as they happened, sometimes sprinkling with intimations of the future and how the recollections linger in the present. The narrative momentum never falters. Further making her telling stand out is her unusual openness about the contradictions in Soviet life at the time. Many similar memoirs suffer from excessive influence from Soviet era propaganda that the authors' experienced, or simply gloss over the political realities. But having bitterly confronted her own brother's persecution during one of Stalin's purges as well as her own after the war, Yegorova gives us a fully formed notion of the cruel ironies of risking and sacrificing so much country she loves that is ruled by such a repressive system.

What would have served to improve the book would have been an appendix, which could clarify the progression of time and place during the narrative (a bare bones timeline is offered as a preface.)

Still, this is a personal record, and it stands with the best military memoirs from the war. I am very happy that this book has found an English translation, as it sheds light on several little known (in the Western world at least) corners of the World War II canon. It is such a rarity not only as a memoir of the Soviet experience, but also of a woman in combat.

 (out of 5)