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3.41 AVERAGE
3.41 AVERAGE
I read The Light Fantastic by Sarah Combs between October 28th and November 4th, 2019 and I gave it two stars. If I could summarize my reading experience, I would take a quote from the book: "a replay we couldn't bear to watch but strangely couldn't get enough of." I could've binge read this book, especially considering the fact that I took in on a trip in which all I did was read, but I didn't because I couldn't stand it for more than a few minutes at a time.
This novel is written from multiple perspectives and it is about school shootings. Now, I've had this book for a while, so it's not like the author was being opportunistic when she wrote it, capitalizing on the horrible events that have had a spike in 2019 in the United States. Nevertheless, I do feel like stories about shootings should be handled super carefully, and I don't think this was. There was nothing structurally wrong with it, in my opinion, but in a way it gave me the feeling Thirteen Reasons Why did, in which they're basically blaming other kids and negating the existence of other deeper issues such as mental illness and the overall toxic environment in which American teenagers live.
I don't know if I could consider each of the seven narrators a "main character," considering that at least two people were given more chapters than the others. Anyway, the first person we read from has this condition in which she has an amazing memory for events in the past. I found this very interesting, but my problem was that this character only tied her memories to traumatic events including, you guessed it, school shootings.
One of the characters is a mix of black and Caucasian and the way he speaks is absolutely horrible. The author is white but she is trying to "sound" black and the character's voice is just this caricature. I don't even know what the author's intent was.
Honestly, there's not much to say here. The more I read, the surer I was that I'd heard people talk about this book, and from what I recall those comments were not positive either. If you still want to read it, keep in mind the trigger warnings for school shootings and suicide.
This novel is written from multiple perspectives and it is about school shootings. Now, I've had this book for a while, so it's not like the author was being opportunistic when she wrote it, capitalizing on the horrible events that have had a spike in 2019 in the United States. Nevertheless, I do feel like stories about shootings should be handled super carefully, and I don't think this was. There was nothing structurally wrong with it, in my opinion, but in a way it gave me the feeling Thirteen Reasons Why did, in which they're basically blaming other kids and negating the existence of other deeper issues such as mental illness and the overall toxic environment in which American teenagers live.
I don't know if I could consider each of the seven narrators a "main character," considering that at least two people were given more chapters than the others. Anyway, the first person we read from has this condition in which she has an amazing memory for events in the past. I found this very interesting, but my problem was that this character only tied her memories to traumatic events including, you guessed it, school shootings.
One of the characters is a mix of black and Caucasian and the way he speaks is absolutely horrible. The author is white but she is trying to "sound" black and the character's voice is just this caricature. I don't even know what the author's intent was.
Honestly, there's not much to say here. The more I read, the surer I was that I'd heard people talk about this book, and from what I recall those comments were not positive either. If you still want to read it, keep in mind the trigger warnings for school shootings and suicide.
Well, I don't think this book was one that should have been read the way I read it. This was my nightstand book, which means I read a chapter or two every night before going to sleep. This is a really fragmented story with lots of different viewpoints, so reading it this way made it difficult to keep everyone distinct in my mind. The story itself is horrifying but realistic. My biggest complaint was the annoying frequency with which the title was repeated throughout the book. I GET IT ALREADY.
I received this book as part of LibraryThing's Early Reviewers.
I received this book as part of LibraryThing's Early Reviewers.
Compelling, complex, complicated - it is incredibly difficult to figure out exactly how to talk about The Light Fantastic. I've never been so disheartened and saddened and terrified reading something, but I've also never felt more compassion or hope or light in the dark. In her own way, Combs really manages to capture a "flashbulb moment", a day where everything changes for these characters in ways that they could never have imagined. Also, there were a lot of character perspectives, some I really got into and others I feel like I could possibly have done without.
On a personal note, I get very anxious reading these sort of stories. While I understand they can be very important in presenting perspectives or figuring out the why behind situations that seem unexplainable, it is hard to not feel anxious and afraid after reading such a plot. So yeah, consider that my personal trigger warning since this does get scary and sad.
On a personal note, I get very anxious reading these sort of stories. While I understand they can be very important in presenting perspectives or figuring out the why behind situations that seem unexplainable, it is hard to not feel anxious and afraid after reading such a plot. So yeah, consider that my personal trigger warning since this does get scary and sad.
This book starts out promising enough, but devolves into confusion and then more confusion. The frequent shift of narration is confusing, and kept me wondering who was talking, and what was happening when. I think if this book had focused more on April, the story would be much more interesting and unified. I don't think a lot of the other characters really add much, and they mostly mask the central plot point, which I'm not even sure I fully grasp.
I also feel like the author was trying to get at some deeper meaning, especially with all the narration switches, but I never fully grasped what Combs was trying to tell amid all the different, and sometimes cheesy, voices.
While the writing was fine, the organization and telling of the story left this book a mess. I also feel like the subsequent subject matter (multiple school shootings) could be surprising or triggering to some, especially since it isn't mentioned at all in the book summary.
I also feel like the author was trying to get at some deeper meaning, especially with all the narration switches, but I never fully grasped what Combs was trying to tell amid all the different, and sometimes cheesy, voices.
While the writing was fine, the organization and telling of the story left this book a mess. I also feel like the subsequent subject matter (multiple school shootings) could be surprising or triggering to some, especially since it isn't mentioned at all in the book summary.
The Light Fantastic by Sarah Combs is a slow page-turner. That is, it is certainly engaging in a "can't put this down" sort of way, yet beautifully written with enough attention to detail and emotional development of characters that it does not at all feel rushed.
By one-third of the book, the plot (or the Plan) is pretty clear, though just who will and who won't remains to be determined. Regardless, someone, at least one, is going to do it, that much is a statistical guarantee, if there ever was any. So this is not about hypothetical school shootings, that much is clear.
The characters all have distinct voices, well stylized, managing to exact any kind of emotional effect whenever necessary. The teenagers sound like very smart teenagers, and perhaps that's part of the set up, as we are to believe that the Mastermind has hand-picked his disciples to be as smart as him, but let's not forget that not all voices belong to the Assassins. In a way, I finished the novel thinking that perhaps teenagers are much smarter than they sound. They have learned to think, but not to speak. But I know this is not entirely true. I am also yet to meet a teenager who is so mature and sweet and caring, especially when it comes to the sex-of-interest (opposite or same, whichever floats their boat).
There are two stories I cannot fathom ever having such a traumatic effect on me: learning that a love interest does not exist (it was a prank) and a letter saying you are now un-accepted due to a (fake, cynical, satirical) interview you gave. The former just does not seem that devastating. And the latter seems like it can be easily fixed; someone in admissions was either too uptight or did not get the joke.
That teenagers (and later, college students) do cruel stuff like getting someone drunk and taking off their clothes at a party for everyone to take pictures of is just mind blowing. Not because someone would fall for it, but because someone has so much time and cares so much (hates so much, I guess) to bother doing such a thing... I mean, sure, I had many mean thoughts in my life about other people, but I would never bother. One must have much better things to do with one's time (I had way too much homework, it seems...) Yet, as mind blowing as it is, Combs made it believable, because, hey, things like this do happen.
What Combs' story brought home to me, perhaps intentionally, is that all this hate and rage is perhaps because we do not know how to deal with shame. And it's tough. Shame is a relentless, pulverizing, unforgettable thing that can induce madness. But if we cannot keep kids (and people) from being cruel, then we must teach them how to go through shame without doing too much harm (it cannot be eliminated, I don't think, but one can move through emotions.)
The Light Fantastic sheds a broader light on the inner lives of not just teenagers, and perhaps the brightest beams fall on the parts that make us very much the same, how we all have shame, guilt, hate, and rage. Ultimately, why some manage to move through it, while others cannot is difficult to say. Combs does not offer an answer, but just a suggestion that distractions, coincidental or not, are important devices that can pull us out of our minds, and perhaps those minute moments are crucial in some cases: a stranger's conversation, someone calling our name, a sister's attention, another person's rage...
Of course, no need to point out that the events of this novel would not exist if it were not so easy to obtain fire arms in the world, in the US, in general, or rather this would be a fantasy, not a reality.
Combs chooses to focus on one shooter who is more typical: a teenager who feels the weight of the world on his shoulders, who, for the rest of his life, just as before, has to prove himself, succeed though he is "other," represent, be good, do well... Does his case seem the most likely to bring someone to madness? Or is he chosen exactly because of what he points out to be his life-long ball and chain: that he is "other," he is always the one who has to prove himself despite his otherness. Because could we really imagine the white, upper class, rich girl go to school and shoot people? No, we can imagine her maybe shooting herself, and that's it. Yet, the statistics do support the choice of Pal over, say, Pheobe or Laura. We cannot, it seems, ignore our biology (yet, the potential aggression of some boys is cast against the cruelty of girls and the caring love of two other boys; perhaps that's why there aren't shootings in schools every day? Perhaps this is how it should be, this is how it is when things are in some sort of balance?)
And one question remains after I finished this novel: how will Pal's parents live with their shame? Regardless if they are responsible (are they?) or not, regardless of any of that, they will live years after such an event, they will have to move, they will have to change their names (will they?)... Will Pal's sister stop acting up and try to console her parents or will she tell them "I told you so! You're so clueless!" Will she feel responsible (wasn't she as clueless?) So, a sequel?
Overall, The Light Fantastic is a thought-provoking novel. It's well written and both the story and the plot move seamlessly. The view points are useful in moving the story forward and insightful in various ways that add to the characters. Recommended for those who like grey hounds, Peter Pan, the Glass Menagerie, and Icarus.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for a digital copy of this novel for my honest review.
By one-third of the book, the plot (or the Plan) is pretty clear, though just who will and who won't remains to be determined. Regardless, someone, at least one, is going to do it, that much is a statistical guarantee, if there ever was any. So this is not about hypothetical school shootings, that much is clear.
The characters all have distinct voices, well stylized, managing to exact any kind of emotional effect whenever necessary. The teenagers sound like very smart teenagers, and perhaps that's part of the set up, as we are to believe that the Mastermind has hand-picked his disciples to be as smart as him, but let's not forget that not all voices belong to the Assassins. In a way, I finished the novel thinking that perhaps teenagers are much smarter than they sound. They have learned to think, but not to speak. But I know this is not entirely true. I am also yet to meet a teenager who is so mature and sweet and caring, especially when it comes to the sex-of-interest (opposite or same, whichever floats their boat).
There are two stories I cannot fathom ever having such a traumatic effect on me: learning that a love interest does not exist (it was a prank) and a letter saying you are now un-accepted due to a (fake, cynical, satirical) interview you gave. The former just does not seem that devastating. And the latter seems like it can be easily fixed; someone in admissions was either too uptight or did not get the joke.
That teenagers (and later, college students) do cruel stuff like getting someone drunk and taking off their clothes at a party for everyone to take pictures of is just mind blowing. Not because someone would fall for it, but because someone has so much time and cares so much (hates so much, I guess) to bother doing such a thing... I mean, sure, I had many mean thoughts in my life about other people, but I would never bother. One must have much better things to do with one's time (I had way too much homework, it seems...) Yet, as mind blowing as it is, Combs made it believable, because, hey, things like this do happen.
What Combs' story brought home to me, perhaps intentionally, is that all this hate and rage is perhaps because we do not know how to deal with shame. And it's tough. Shame is a relentless, pulverizing, unforgettable thing that can induce madness. But if we cannot keep kids (and people) from being cruel, then we must teach them how to go through shame without doing too much harm (it cannot be eliminated, I don't think, but one can move through emotions.)
The Light Fantastic sheds a broader light on the inner lives of not just teenagers, and perhaps the brightest beams fall on the parts that make us very much the same, how we all have shame, guilt, hate, and rage. Ultimately, why some manage to move through it, while others cannot is difficult to say. Combs does not offer an answer, but just a suggestion that distractions, coincidental or not, are important devices that can pull us out of our minds, and perhaps those minute moments are crucial in some cases: a stranger's conversation, someone calling our name, a sister's attention, another person's rage...
Of course, no need to point out that the events of this novel would not exist if it were not so easy to obtain fire arms in the world, in the US, in general, or rather this would be a fantasy, not a reality.
Combs chooses to focus on one shooter who is more typical: a teenager who feels the weight of the world on his shoulders, who, for the rest of his life, just as before, has to prove himself, succeed though he is "other," represent, be good, do well... Does his case seem the most likely to bring someone to madness? Or is he chosen exactly because of what he points out to be his life-long ball and chain: that he is "other," he is always the one who has to prove himself despite his otherness. Because could we really imagine the white, upper class, rich girl go to school and shoot people? No, we can imagine her maybe shooting herself, and that's it. Yet, the statistics do support the choice of Pal over, say, Pheobe or Laura. We cannot, it seems, ignore our biology (yet, the potential aggression of some boys is cast against the cruelty of girls and the caring love of two other boys; perhaps that's why there aren't shootings in schools every day? Perhaps this is how it should be, this is how it is when things are in some sort of balance?)
And one question remains after I finished this novel: how will Pal's parents live with their shame? Regardless if they are responsible (are they?) or not, regardless of any of that, they will live years after such an event, they will have to move, they will have to change their names (will they?)... Will Pal's sister stop acting up and try to console her parents or will she tell them "I told you so! You're so clueless!" Will she feel responsible (wasn't she as clueless?) So, a sequel?
Overall, The Light Fantastic is a thought-provoking novel. It's well written and both the story and the plot move seamlessly. The view points are useful in moving the story forward and insightful in various ways that add to the characters. Recommended for those who like grey hounds, Peter Pan, the Glass Menagerie, and Icarus.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for a digital copy of this novel for my honest review.
This book was based around a heartbreaking concept that just made me stop and realize how REAL it was. The pain that this novel is about is so much more than any contemporary novel and it makes you analyze what you are really doing with your life. Even though the plot idea was really great I found the authors writing style a bit stuffy and confusing. Also the use of motif was a little bit too much in my opinion. However, this book is very important.
On Senior Skip Day, most students’ biggest worry is getting busted. But eighteen-year-old April Donovan spends her day obsessing over the tragic events that have darkened her birth month: Waco, Oklahoma City, Columbine, Virginia Tech, and -- just four days ago – at the Boston Marathon. Meanwhile, across the country, dozens of teens calling themselves Assassins are about to act out their own tragedy to add to the list. April, along with her best friends Gavin and Gina, must survive together, as do other students in states across the nation whose choices will redeem or destroy them.
Told from seven narrative viewpoints, Comb’s novel provides chilling insight into the Mastermind of the plot whose anger and powerlessness drive him to social media to gain a following of similarly disaffected disciples. But it also offers moving portraits of an English teacher who weeps for her students, of a lost boy whose father was killed in the Twin Towers, and of a would-be Assassin saved by the love of her sister. Weaving in ties to 9/11 and other touchstones of the millennial generation, The Light Fantastic offers commentary not only on what troubles these media-saturated teens, but also hope for what can save them: the love and unwavering support of caring adults and family.
Told from seven narrative viewpoints, Comb’s novel provides chilling insight into the Mastermind of the plot whose anger and powerlessness drive him to social media to gain a following of similarly disaffected disciples. But it also offers moving portraits of an English teacher who weeps for her students, of a lost boy whose father was killed in the Twin Towers, and of a would-be Assassin saved by the love of her sister. Weaving in ties to 9/11 and other touchstones of the millennial generation, The Light Fantastic offers commentary not only on what troubles these media-saturated teens, but also hope for what can save them: the love and unwavering support of caring adults and family.
That was way depressing and not at all what I was in the mood to read.
This was intense and great and it's been a long time since I read an entire book in a day.
I recently moved into a new neighborhood, and obviously, one of the first things I did was check out the library. Part of the inauguration process was taking out four books (yes, I already have three out…. hush), all of them from the teen section to try update my woefully old-fashioned understanding of Young Adult fiction. This book, The Light Fantastic, is the first one of the four.
First, the good. The Light Fantastic is a gorgeously written story that intermingles seven different perspectives spread across three states, four days after the bombings of the Boston Marathon. The writing is absolutely gorgeous, particularly the description of POV character April Donovan’s rare condition. April has hyperthymesia, a condition which makes her recall of personal memory astonishingly vivid. Because of this, in particular, she can ‘connect the dots’ between real-life tragedies and her life at near-light-speed. This is used as a framing device to bring the book to its central plot – a series of interconnected school shootings.
My relationship with this book gets more complicated when it comes to both the plotting and the characters. There’s a lot here that I want to like; the discussion of trauma and the ‘war’ that modern-day high school students are forced into touches on some really great stuff. However, ultimately, the seven POVs are more than one too many, leaving readers very little time to catch up or put together the lives we’re getting a window into. There’s also not nearly enough rise and fall in the action; while there is a climactic end of sorts, the slow-motion of the book as events unfold over a single day slows the narrative down too much.
I also – from an ethical perspective – don’t know how to feel about the premise. School shootings are so common in the U.S.A. that they’ve ceased to have any meaning, but that very level of incidence has meant the conversation around school shooters has changed. The narrative of the ‘lone wolf’, bullied and seeking revenge, is a painfully dated one. Instead, school shooters (even – and especially – the Columbine shooters) tend to be white, male bullies asserting power. Certainly the idea of a forum pushing people further into radicalism is frighteningly realistic, akin to places like /b/ or Kiwifarms. However, a white woman writing about a Indian boy with internalized racism, and focusing on his death-by-cop scene to the exclusion of almost all others, feels… uncomfortable. Equally uncomfortable is that the two other shooter narratives involve young, white girls reacting to bullying.
Actually, I lied. I may not know how to feel about the premise itself, but Pal’s death was unnecessary and mean, and more than a little racist given that he’s the only actual named character to die. So, let’s stop killing POC characters for Drama:tm: please?
The prose of The Light Fantastic is gorgeous, but while the intertwined plots and themes hold a lot of promise, the characters fall a little flat. Most importantly, though, the victims of the shooting should be the heroes of a story – not the “tragic” figures of bullied murderers.
First, the good. The Light Fantastic is a gorgeously written story that intermingles seven different perspectives spread across three states, four days after the bombings of the Boston Marathon. The writing is absolutely gorgeous, particularly the description of POV character April Donovan’s rare condition. April has hyperthymesia, a condition which makes her recall of personal memory astonishingly vivid. Because of this, in particular, she can ‘connect the dots’ between real-life tragedies and her life at near-light-speed. This is used as a framing device to bring the book to its central plot – a series of interconnected school shootings.
My relationship with this book gets more complicated when it comes to both the plotting and the characters. There’s a lot here that I want to like; the discussion of trauma and the ‘war’ that modern-day high school students are forced into touches on some really great stuff. However, ultimately, the seven POVs are more than one too many, leaving readers very little time to catch up or put together the lives we’re getting a window into. There’s also not nearly enough rise and fall in the action; while there is a climactic end of sorts, the slow-motion of the book as events unfold over a single day slows the narrative down too much.
I also – from an ethical perspective – don’t know how to feel about the premise. School shootings are so common in the U.S.A. that they’ve ceased to have any meaning, but that very level of incidence has meant the conversation around school shooters has changed. The narrative of the ‘lone wolf’, bullied and seeking revenge, is a painfully dated one. Instead, school shooters (even – and especially – the Columbine shooters) tend to be white, male bullies asserting power. Certainly the idea of a forum pushing people further into radicalism is frighteningly realistic, akin to places like /b/ or Kiwifarms. However, a white woman writing about a Indian boy with internalized racism, and focusing on his death-by-cop scene to the exclusion of almost all others, feels… uncomfortable. Equally uncomfortable is that the two other shooter narratives involve young, white girls reacting to bullying.
Actually, I lied. I may not know how to feel about the premise itself, but Pal’s death was unnecessary and mean, and more than a little racist given that he’s the only actual named character to die. So, let’s stop killing POC characters for Drama:tm: please?
The prose of The Light Fantastic is gorgeous, but while the intertwined plots and themes hold a lot of promise, the characters fall a little flat. Most importantly, though, the victims of the shooting should be the heroes of a story – not the “tragic” figures of bullied murderers.