Crewel by Gennifer Albin

Born into a perfectly ordered world, 16-year-old Adelice has a rare and powerful gift. She can physically weave the fabric of life to control space, time and matter. Having been brought up to respect the mysterious Spinsters that wield this power, you'd expect her to be ecstatic when she finds she can join their ranks. Instead, her first experience reeks of frustration.

Aged eight, Adelice's distress at finding an abandoned bird's nest unearths her ability: 

'As I watched, the golden strands of light flickered slightly, and I realised they were slowly moving forwards, away from the moment in front of me. They weren't simply fibres in Arras's tapestry-they were lines of time. Tentatively, I reached for one of the golden fibres. Encouraged by its silky texture, I took it and yanked it hard, trying to force the time bands back to a moment when the mama bird was guarding her precious babies. But the strands resisted. No matter what I did, they kept on creeping forward. There was no going back.' 

 It's a hard lesson: controlling the world around her doesn't guarantee the safety of those she loves.

Adelice's talent is valuable and those in power will stop at nothing to control her. Once they have her there's no going back. Having been whisked away from her family, Adelice is faced with a terrible choice: work for those that tore them apart or be killed. As her training continues she realises the extent of the Spinster's control over the public. But what exactly does the powerful Guild need Adelice for? And how much leverage does this afford her? Can it keep her own family safe, or is it too late for that?

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 I loved Gennifer Albin's concept of the world constantly changing and being woven around us. The idea of the delicate balance of life being visible and tangible really appealed to me. It's refreshing to picture a completely new type of perception and reminded me of how limited our human sight is in terms of the colour spectrum. This also led to some touching imagery of individual lives being intertwined and woven together. 

Like many novels featuring totalitarian societies Crewel raises the age-old question: should you sacrifice free will for the security of crime-free authoritarianism? Albin's twist here lies in the originality of how that security is created and physically maintained. I also liked Adelice's determination and ability to appear cocky in the face of danger. She's sharp witted and seems to have an enviable knack for banter especially with her nemesis, Guild Ambassador Cormac Patton:

'But they know more than they let on,' I press. His cologne's heavy musk is making my head swim, and I can't hold back the thoughts I've locked in since my arrival.

'They do,' he admits, 'but I have so much more power. It's easier to share little secrets when you're in charge.'

'And you are?' I ask him pointedly. 'Then why tell me? You have no more reason to trust me than they do.'

'No, I don't,' he says, 'but unlike them, I can have you killed.'

'And I thought we were finally becoming friends.' 

Cormac laughs a deep, barking cackle. 'You are delightful. I do hope I don't have to kill you.'

'Finally, something we can agree on'.

Despite these perks, I found I didn't quite root for Adelice the way I have for other YA heroines like Katniss and Hannah Baker. At times she came across as a little too superficial and flirty, without Katniss' steadfast fire and hatred of the enemy. Whilst it could be argued that this makes Adelice a more realistic teenager, I would have liked to have felt that her resistance to The Guild was fueled by universal humanitarian concern rather than self-interest. This alienation was exacerbated by the fact that she struggled to strike up friendships with the other Spinster recruits. Adelice isn't short of potential boyfriends, but she sure could a have done with a few more friends.

Having said that, I couldn't help but respect Adelice's courage, survivor instinct and wit. Gennifer Albin has woven a quirky, imaginative plot throughout this novel and I'll eagerly be looking out for the sequel.  

Crewel is due to be published in the UK by Faber and Faber in October 2012

Fever Crumb by Philip Reeve‏

Fever Crumb has been born into a futuristic world still reeling from the overthrow of the ruling Scrivens (or 'homo superior' as they like to term themselves).

This is London; but not as you know it. Commuters carry Oyster shells, instead of cards, and travel by wind tram or sudan chair. What we call modern society was destroyed by a dark period referred to as the ‘downsizing’; hence most of outer London consists of empty buildings and overgrown, useless roads. Technological advances such as flight and electricity have been lost and anyone with an interest in science is considered odd. The violence of Scriven rule is still fresh in the minds of Londoners and the city is buzzing with distrust and mutiny.

A small corner of reason remains in an abandoned monument. In a head constructed to represent the former Scriven king Auric Godshank, a band of engineers reside. Protected from the mayhem of the city they quietly beaver away at their experiments, rejecting any form of emotion as a distraction. An anomaly in a society of men, Fever Crumb was found abandoned as a baby and subsequently raised by a kind engineer named Dr Crumb.

Having been brought up in a reasonable manner, the young Fever Crumb reacts calmly when she is required to leave the engineers to assist the kooky archaeologist Kit Solvent. Solvent's rag-tag children and quirky ways baffle Fever Crumb. But that's nothing compared to the bizarre illusions Solvent's work seems to evoke in her. She's left frightened by her reaction to a visit to Godshank's former residence:

"Try the door,' said Kit, and held his lantern up to light the lock.

Weird feelings of déjà visité flooded through Fever. Memories of yesterday mingled with memories of other yesterdays which could not possibly be her own. Pain was beating again at the base of her skull. She began to wonder if she were still inside her dream. If she climbed the stairs again and went outside would there be lights in the unbroken windows of Nonesuch House?"

The city grows more and more restless as Fever begins to question her own sanity. Soon her piercing odd eyes and unusual manner evoke aggressive suspicion from Londoners. 'What are you?' is the constant refrain that Fever herself cannot answer. Why does she appear to have memories that she doesn't own? What is Kit Solvent hiding from her? And can he keep her safe from the unruly and angry crowds?

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This was my first Philip Reeve read, but I’m certain it won’t be my last. I really admire his ability to create such quirky, intriguing scenarios and characters. He plays with your familiarity of London with places names such as ‘Hampster Heath’, ‘B@ersea’, and ‘Eefrow’ and hints at religious legends involving the worship of prophets such as ‘some old-world prophet, ‘Hari, Hari! Hari Potter!’Such details make up part of the intricate world that Reeve has created. Reeve shows a delightful interest in building the world of this Mortal Engines series, layer by realistic layer. Without having to take in much detail, as the novel plays out you naturally absorb a sense of the workings of the setting.

Fever Crumb, Dr Crumb and Kit Solent are all fresh, likeable and fleshy characters with believable quirks and motivations. The dialogue moves the plot along and also provides countless moments of humour. I especially loved how the pantomime-like villain Ted Swiney was drawn:

"Ted Swiney suddenly reached across the bar and lifted him up by his coat collar. His amiable act had ended. He growled softly into Charley’s ear. ‘Anything the old cloot finds, I want to hear about it. You understand?’

Charley nodded eagerly, and Ted dumped him on the floor, grinning round at his customers to show he’d just been having a bit of harmless fun with the boy. His smiling cheeks were red and round as two wax apples. He leaned over the bar to straighten Charley’s coat and pat his hair flat. ‘Now hop along. Don’t keep Master Creech waiting."

Clearly a lover of language, Reeve has created for characters such as ted Swiney a winsome fusion between cockney and 21st century text-speak. In short, this is a multifaceted, fast-paced, charming novel that has plenty to tempt older readers, young adults and the young-at-heart.

The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge

13-year-old Maria Merryweather has an uncanny knack for making friends. Almost everyone she meets in this old-fashioned tale falls for her frank and cheerful nature and boundless energy. Uprooted from her luxurious London home after her father's death, Maria, her governess and their pampered pooch are forced to seek refuge with her strange, distant relative Sir Benjamin Merryweather on the windbeaten coast of the West Country. Despite her faults (she's headstrong, argumentative and vain), Maria's charm soon sees her surrounded by a protective circle of adult and animal guardians. It's well she is, as the magical residence of Moonacre is not as idyllic as it first appears.

Maria soon begins to unweave the secrets of Sir Benjamin Merryweather's picturesque residence. But the facts of the past still evade her. How did her childhood friend Robin come to be here? Who was the mysterious woman that last slept in her room and rode her horse? Who are the dark men that stalk the nearby wood and deny the village access to the sea?

Published in 1946 and set in 1842, The Little White Horse merges legend, magic and adventure with old-fashioned morals and lashing of afternoon tea. The folklore influence and the inclusion of eccentric characters such as the ferocious chef Marmaduke and his all knowing, literate cat Zachariah, add to the offbeat feel of the book. Despite this originality, Elizabeth Goudge‏'s description of the landscape, the village and Maria's interactions with her beloved friends come across as a trifle twee. The benevolent Old Parson springs to mind, instated in his picture-perfect cottage, tending lovingly to his flock. Helpfully, after each Sunday service the Vicar stands at the door of the church ready to reveal and reprimand each villager's sins. It's hard to tell how a 1940's child would read this but it struck me as overtly sanctimonious and judgmental.

 Despite Maria's strong influence over the residents of Moonacre, she's often scolded for not acting as submissive as her gender dictates. It's incredibly frustrating to read! Seen through a modern day lens, Maria's childish brand of feminism grates - especially as she's considered old enough to marry. The implication seems to be that girls, women and brides should be suspended in a state of ignorant innocence. The Old Parson vehemently enforces this view whilst holding Maria in a 'grip of steel'. He advises, 'excessive female curiosity is not to be commended either. Nip it in the bud, my dear, while there is time.' Whilst it could be argued that Elizabeth Goudge‏ is accurately representing 1800 opinions, this view of femininity is repeated often enough as to be deliberate.

That all being said, Maria is ultimately a decisive, outgoing character. Her natural curiosity, sense of humour and passionate temper keep her from coming across as sanctimonious. In The Little White Horse Elizabeth Goudge has created a beguiling set of characters, and set them in a charming, idyllic English countryside with an intriguing and magical plot.

Fly By Night by Frances Hardinge

'Words were dangerous when loosed. They were more powerful than cannon and more unpredictable than storms. They could turn men's heads inside out and warp their destinies. They could pick up kingdoms and shake them until they rattled. And this was a good thing, a wonderful thing...'

Frances Hardinge's debut novel draws us into a dark, eighteenth century inspired society rife with highwaymen, rival royals, thieves, and one very aggressive goose. Amongst all this pandemonium lies a plucky young girl named Mosca Mye. Unlike the majority of her female peers, Mosca was taught to read by her father before he died. Now 12 years old and fiercely independent, Mosca is determined to leave her callous Aunt and Uncle and the damp, claustrophobic village in which they live. Having been mesmerised by the verbal dexterity of a travelling storyteller and conman named Eponymous Clent, Mosca rescues Clent from the clutches of the local magistrate and together they flee the village.

It's the beginning of an unlikely partnership, based more on the desire to keep alive than out of loyalty. Mosca's decision to hedge her bets with Clent, despite being aware of his slippery tongue and nature, shows her willingness to disregard social expectations in the pursuit of knowledge. Her love and respect for books is matched only by her affinity to Saracen, the goose that aided her escape from the village. Mosca senses the force of words and knowledge, and she thirsts after the power and freedom that they offer. What Mosca doesn't anticipate is the far-reaching consequences of her search. Together, Mosca and Clent tumble through a madcap series of events, eventually coming to the attention of the very highest, powerful members of their society. 

The plot winds unexpectedly, as does Mosca's loyalty and trust of those she meets. As a reader, this kept me constantly on my toes. Hardinge refuses to install any sort of absolutes in the novel, other than that of the desirability of free speech and education. This makes Fly By Night a refreshing intelligent, multifaceted young adult novel. There's a fair bit of humour to be found in her writing too, much of which is caused by her penchant for kooky names. She pokes fun at religious rites with her description of devout offerings: 

'They were passing a cluster of shrines. As she watched, a troop of grateful citizens trooped past the shrines, dropping different thanksgiving offerings before each icon. A biscuit for Goodman Blackwhistle. A mackerel for Goodman Sussuratch. A shiny coin for Goodman Greyglory.' 

Far from just religious-bashing however, Hardinge also intelligently dissects power, greed and the desire to crush dissent in politics, trade unions, and the royalty. This is a true gem of a book. Read it!