Scan barcode
greenskydragon's review
1.0
I received a free copy of this book in a Goodreads giveaway. This did not affect the honesty of the following review.
My second official DNF. This thing was awful.
Basic premise: the Green Lama (who I've taken an affectionate liking to as the Green Lame-o) is a millionaire playboy kind of guy, loses his parents to a tragic accident (or they were murdered, I forget which specifically), goes on a soul-searching trip in Tibet for ten years, then returns to play Batman with "radioactive salts." Gag. This felt like someone dredged this superhero out of the dusty recesses of some Marvel/DC knock-off encyclopedia and thought it'd be a good idea to revive him. Well, I'm sorry to say, this book hurts to read.
There is and or was no editor, whatsoever, for this book. I can attest to at least one spelling error, and my mind suggests there was at least one more, within the first chapter. That's 32-ish pages into the book by the time I decided to quit, and the thing's only 140 pages or so. That's just sad. And there were so many other things a good editor would have put their foot down on, assuming they even had a say on whether this book got the green light or not.
But that has nothing to do with the offensive, putrid prose clogging the pages. The writing itself is horrid. I could feel my brain cells slowly disintegrating, wafting away in tiny colloidal dispersions as they transcended into the great beyond. If ever I feel the masochistic desire to drain my IQ even further, I'll pick this book back up.
I lost track of the number of PoV shifts that first chapter had. It hurt. It really did. I didn't even know we'd been introduced to the main character in (I believe) the final PoV shift until I checked the back of the book and found out, oh, that's the guy. Who knows how many worthless, unimportant characters just got trashed because of such negligence.
And I know the introduction attempts to justify such wasteful character devolution as "part of the genre," but that is absolutely no excuse. The longest lasting superhero stories we have today have pretty good, if not downright awesome, characterization. Saying they make no attempt at characterization isn't just lazy, it's more vulgar than displaying one's unclothed posterior on public television. Offensive no matter what culture you're from.
I'm tired of reading trash now. I really am. I had my fun with Eye of Argon and My Immortal (because I could at least laugh at their immature antics), but I'm tired of scraping up dirt with my teeth to see if there's "anything worse" on the bottom. I received this book a while ago, it was sitting on my shelf, and it was short, so I figured why not give it a chance. Civic duty done. Now I must go vigorously scour my mind with as much high quality literature as possible to try to rid myself of the stain of this garbage.
My second official DNF. This thing was awful.
Basic premise: the Green Lama (who I've taken an affectionate liking to as the Green Lame-o) is a millionaire playboy kind of guy, loses his parents to a tragic accident (or they were murdered, I forget which specifically), goes on a soul-searching trip in Tibet for ten years, then returns to play Batman with "radioactive salts." Gag. This felt like someone dredged this superhero out of the dusty recesses of some Marvel/DC knock-off encyclopedia and thought it'd be a good idea to revive him. Well, I'm sorry to say, this book hurts to read.
There is and or was no editor, whatsoever, for this book. I can attest to at least one spelling error, and my mind suggests there was at least one more, within the first chapter. That's 32-ish pages into the book by the time I decided to quit, and the thing's only 140 pages or so. That's just sad. And there were so many other things a good editor would have put their foot down on, assuming they even had a say on whether this book got the green light or not.
But that has nothing to do with the offensive, putrid prose clogging the pages. The writing itself is horrid. I could feel my brain cells slowly disintegrating, wafting away in tiny colloidal dispersions as they transcended into the great beyond. If ever I feel the masochistic desire to drain my IQ even further, I'll pick this book back up.
I lost track of the number of PoV shifts that first chapter had. It hurt. It really did. I didn't even know we'd been introduced to the main character in (I believe) the final PoV shift until I checked the back of the book and found out, oh, that's the guy. Who knows how many worthless, unimportant characters just got trashed because of such negligence.
And I know the introduction attempts to justify such wasteful character devolution as "part of the genre," but that is absolutely no excuse. The longest lasting superhero stories we have today have pretty good, if not downright awesome, characterization. Saying they make no attempt at characterization isn't just lazy, it's more vulgar than displaying one's unclothed posterior on public television. Offensive no matter what culture you're from.
I'm tired of reading trash now. I really am. I had my fun with Eye of Argon and My Immortal (because I could at least laugh at their immature antics), but I'm tired of scraping up dirt with my teeth to see if there's "anything worse" on the bottom. I received this book a while ago, it was sitting on my shelf, and it was short, so I figured why not give it a chance. Civic duty done. Now I must go vigorously scour my mind with as much high quality literature as possible to try to rid myself of the stain of this garbage.
More...