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notesofacrocodile's review
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.5
scandle's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
3.5
wyemu's review
1.0
I found this novel rather confusing in it's narrative structure and not entirely interesting. The premise is very good, after the death of his wife Theo, a novelist, moves back to his home country of Sri Lanka as the country plunges further into civil war and befriends a young girl whose artistic talent he wishes to encourage. The more she paints him the more the love between them grows. While trying to protect her from her uncle, Theo is captured and years go by with both of them thinking the other is dead. Unfortunately throughout this novel I failed to feel any empathy with either character, especially as, after their separation, Theo only refers to Nulani as 'the girl'. Obviously this was meant to be a coping mechanism for him while being held prisoner but all it succeeded in doing for me was pushing her character away. Nulani never really appears as an independent person, also being seen through Theo's eyes. Generally the novel lacked any impact for me.
wendoxford's review
4.0
Brutal yet remarkable novel set in civil war Sri Lanka where "living is a desperate business". Theo, a writer, still grieving for his murdered wife in London returns "home" to find peace and write. The story rolls from there. An emotional roller-coaster between Theo and Nulani - a young local girl who is a talented artist, mute after seeing her father burned to death - who is brought back to life by Theo and his friends. Then the civil war ramps up...Lyrical, gripping and violent...
annacaig's review
5.0
Mosquito does not always make for easy reading. But it is always gripping. Tearne’s writing is beautiful even when it is horrible. This was her debut novel, published in 2007, and she has written five more since then. I would love to read more and see how her style has developed.
Full review here: https://murderundergroundbrokethecamel.wordpress.com/2019/06/27/mosquito/
Full review here: https://murderundergroundbrokethecamel.wordpress.com/2019/06/27/mosquito/
rdebner's review
4.0
A moving novel about second (and even third) chances at life. A love story set in Sri Lanka at a time of civil war. It makes the point that survival is not always a matter of bravery or intelligence, but rather luck and the ability to endure. A story of people who break in various ways, and how they heal into a fuller experience of life.
justineferon's review against another edition
4.0
Roma Tearne's Mosquito is a book that’s a bit under-the-radar and tough to find online (not to mention an SEO nightmare – Google Books’ description of the book reads: “Highlights the physical characteristics, habitat, and life cycle of mosquitoes. Discusses control measures and includes illustrations”).
It’s also a novel I cracked open with some skepticism, not because of its obscurity or even its awful purple cover, but because what little I knew about the book made it seem like a Sri Lankan Lolita. Set against a backdrop of the country’s recent civil war, Mosquito is the story of a romance between a writer named Theo and a young painter named Nulani. He’s a wealthy, worldly, and widowed British ex-pat; she’s an introverted and inexperienced high school student. Talk about a power imbalance.
But this book won me over despite that premise, largely on the strength of its beauty and thoughtfulness. On its surface, Mosquito has shades of ‘How Stella Got Her Groove Back:’ a broken character trades in modern life for the slow pace of the beach and discovers love and inspiration along the way. But Mosquito cuts much deeper than Terry McMillan’s chick lit – it’s a story, ultimately, about the pain of love and of being unloved. Characters are tortured not only by loneliness, but also by the vulnerability that comes from loving deeply. Watching as Theo and Nulani ricochet between different emotional states – opening themselves up, falling for each other, then shutting down to survive – made me think about love in my own life differently. Love isn’t expressed only through life’s highs, it’s also experienced in its lows – the dangers you fear, the separation you dread, the future you desperately desire to protect. And within that cerebral context, somehow Theo and Nulani’s May-December romance felt more pure than prurient.
Beyond being a book about love, this is also a book that nails this blog’s ‘prose and place’ theme. Mosquito revels in Sri Lanka’s lush coastal landscape – palms wilting in the heat, insects scuttling across tile, water glistening in the light of full moons, rain battering clapboard walls, and the sound of lapping tides. Life bends to the will of weather here (literally – still water begets mosquitos which spread malaria) and Tearne renders that weather as vividly as she does her human characters. At one point, for example, she describes the afternoon as “gelatinous with the heat.”
Additionally, the notion that where you live is a critical component of your identity and happiness courses through every page of Mosquito. It’s evident in how drawn Theo felt to Sri Lanka in spite of its looming dangers. It’s clear in the way Theo’s friend Rohan’s spirit died when he had to flee his home in Colombo for exile in Italy. And it feels particularly compelling when plot points hinge on the way place shapes us. For instance, Theo’s confidence that logic will prevail – something he learned living in London – serves only to hurt him in Sri Lanka, where logic holds no sway over unrest, war, and injustice.
While it didn’t make me want to catch the next plane to Sri Lanka (a book brimming with war, kidnapping, and murder tends to have that effect), Mosquito did make me want to hold the people I love a little closer. And for that feeling alone it’s worth searching through a million Amazon listings for books about actual mosquitos to find.
It’s also a novel I cracked open with some skepticism, not because of its obscurity or even its awful purple cover, but because what little I knew about the book made it seem like a Sri Lankan Lolita. Set against a backdrop of the country’s recent civil war, Mosquito is the story of a romance between a writer named Theo and a young painter named Nulani. He’s a wealthy, worldly, and widowed British ex-pat; she’s an introverted and inexperienced high school student. Talk about a power imbalance.
But this book won me over despite that premise, largely on the strength of its beauty and thoughtfulness. On its surface, Mosquito has shades of ‘How Stella Got Her Groove Back:’ a broken character trades in modern life for the slow pace of the beach and discovers love and inspiration along the way. But Mosquito cuts much deeper than Terry McMillan’s chick lit – it’s a story, ultimately, about the pain of love and of being unloved. Characters are tortured not only by loneliness, but also by the vulnerability that comes from loving deeply. Watching as Theo and Nulani ricochet between different emotional states – opening themselves up, falling for each other, then shutting down to survive – made me think about love in my own life differently. Love isn’t expressed only through life’s highs, it’s also experienced in its lows – the dangers you fear, the separation you dread, the future you desperately desire to protect. And within that cerebral context, somehow Theo and Nulani’s May-December romance felt more pure than prurient.
Beyond being a book about love, this is also a book that nails this blog’s ‘prose and place’ theme. Mosquito revels in Sri Lanka’s lush coastal landscape – palms wilting in the heat, insects scuttling across tile, water glistening in the light of full moons, rain battering clapboard walls, and the sound of lapping tides. Life bends to the will of weather here (literally – still water begets mosquitos which spread malaria) and Tearne renders that weather as vividly as she does her human characters. At one point, for example, she describes the afternoon as “gelatinous with the heat.”
Additionally, the notion that where you live is a critical component of your identity and happiness courses through every page of Mosquito. It’s evident in how drawn Theo felt to Sri Lanka in spite of its looming dangers. It’s clear in the way Theo’s friend Rohan’s spirit died when he had to flee his home in Colombo for exile in Italy. And it feels particularly compelling when plot points hinge on the way place shapes us. For instance, Theo’s confidence that logic will prevail – something he learned living in London – serves only to hurt him in Sri Lanka, where logic holds no sway over unrest, war, and injustice.
While it didn’t make me want to catch the next plane to Sri Lanka (a book brimming with war, kidnapping, and murder tends to have that effect), Mosquito did make me want to hold the people I love a little closer. And for that feeling alone it’s worth searching through a million Amazon listings for books about actual mosquitos to find.
balancinghistorybooks's review against another edition
2.0
I chose to read Roma Tearne's Mosquito for the Sri Lanka stop on my Around the World in Eighty Books challenge. I tend not to read books which are primarily love stories; I like there to be a lot of other things going on. Mosquito looked as though it would fit the bill in respect, set as it is at a tumultuous period of Sri Lanka's history. Most other reviewers seem to have loved this, but it felt largely awkward to me. Some of the sentences are very bland and matter-of-fact, and others feel highly overwritten; there is no overall balance between the two. The dialogue is stilted, and I found it quite repetitive. I couldn't get into the story at all, and was a little disappointed that the setting has been so sidelined. So much more could have been made of this novel.
unrelatedwaffle's review against another edition
3.0
Overall, I really enjoyed this book, but something left me wanting more. It felt somewhat incomplete. I'm not sure why Vikram was in it at all. But it was a compelling story and a page turner, after a slow start.
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