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3.46 AVERAGE
3.46 AVERAGE
dark
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
Beautiful prose but it didn’t really grab me. That’s on me though, I’m not a huge fan of myths, just thought I’d try something a little different.
beautiful writing, as always. Found that I had to only be reading to really enjoy it.
Really enjoyed this one, though I feel like I would truly appreciate the book during a second reading — the epilogue was so interesting that it’s likely to add layers to the reading experience, too.
For me, ever since becoming a lot more active on Goodreads, watching more Booktube videos, and reading more literature-based reddit threads, it is an odd experience to simply pick out a book while browsing the shelves of my library. All I knew of the book was what was on the blurb, and that the author was famous for writing [b: Possession|41219|Possession|A.S. Byatt|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1391124124s/41219.jpg|2246190] which I have not read, and I have no clue what that one is about either. I simply saw the title, thought of the Marvel movies as you do when you see something related to Thor, and decided to give it a chance. No reason not to with such a low page count.
The reading experience, for me at least, was akin to [b: The Ocean at the End of the Lane|15783514|The Ocean at the End of the Lane|Neil Gaiman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1497098563s/15783514.jpg|21500681], which I had a mixed relationship with. For some reason the book felt sluggish at points, and really gripping at others. I did enjoy how it was written and the parts with Loki were where I was most invested in the story of the Norse gods, but I did feel a bit 'meh' after reading it. I probably would have benefited from having prior knowledge of the Norse mythology beyond the Marvel movies, but I felt lost in the names, I didn't really care about what was happening unless Loki or one of his children was involved, and the interweaving of the story of the thin girl during wartime felt a bit odd. After reading the author's note at the end, it makes more sense, and I did find myself connecting to the girl and her childhood reading, but I personally didn't think the mixing of wartime girl and Norse mythology worked well for me.
I am glad I read it though because it has gotten me interested in reading more Norse mythology. I wasn't really feeling it until the last quarter of the book but that ending was so GoT-esque and bloody and I loved it! I actually bought a copy of [b: Norse Mythology|37903770|Norse Mythology|Neil Gaiman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1516128292s/37903770.jpg|51396954] by Neil Gaiman a year or two ago so once I'm back in the UK I'll definitely have to give that a go. I'm going to give this a 3-3.5 star, it wasn't an amazing read, in fact there were points where I was close to DNF-ing, but I generally liked it and I'm glad I gave it a go.
The reading experience, for me at least, was akin to [b: The Ocean at the End of the Lane|15783514|The Ocean at the End of the Lane|Neil Gaiman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1497098563s/15783514.jpg|21500681], which I had a mixed relationship with. For some reason the book felt sluggish at points, and really gripping at others. I did enjoy how it was written and the parts with Loki were where I was most invested in the story of the Norse gods, but I did feel a bit 'meh' after reading it. I probably would have benefited from having prior knowledge of the Norse mythology beyond the Marvel movies, but I felt lost in the names, I didn't really care about what was happening unless Loki or one of his children was involved, and the interweaving of the story of the thin girl during wartime felt a bit odd. After reading the author's note at the end, it makes more sense, and I did find myself connecting to the girl and her childhood reading, but I personally didn't think the mixing of wartime girl and Norse mythology worked well for me.
I am glad I read it though because it has gotten me interested in reading more Norse mythology. I wasn't really feeling it until the last quarter of the book but that ending was so GoT-esque and bloody and I loved it! I actually bought a copy of [b: Norse Mythology|37903770|Norse Mythology|Neil Gaiman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1516128292s/37903770.jpg|51396954] by Neil Gaiman a year or two ago so once I'm back in the UK I'll definitely have to give that a go. I'm going to give this a 3-3.5 star, it wasn't an amazing read, in fact there were points where I was close to DNF-ing, but I generally liked it and I'm glad I gave it a go.
"Thin's" not character.
She grapples with faith and fate
as do Asgard's gods.
3.5 stars rounded down, because I didn't like the author's discussion of her writing process and her place in the series, nor the only descriptor of the MC as being "the thin girl." Sure, war hunger, but also idealized self?
She grapples with faith and fate
as do Asgard's gods.
3.5 stars rounded down, because I didn't like the author's discussion of her writing process and her place in the series, nor the only descriptor of the MC as being "the thin girl." Sure, war hunger, but also idealized self?
tense
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
When A.S. Byatt was a young child, she spent hours reading about the bloody fate that befell the Norse gods. Since she was reading while WWII was raging, it's no wonder the myth and the war drew sparks off each other in her imagination.
In Ragnarok, part of the Canongate series on myths, Byatt does not merge the stories or force their comparison. Nor does what happens to a thin child evacuated to the British countryside, who is certain she will never see her father again, overshadow the mythical world. Instead, Byatt presents two entwined, long setpieces -- one of the evacuated thin child, who is nameless, and the other a retelling of the destruction of the gods with just a touch of meta commentary. She ends with a comparison of the destruction of the gods to the destructive acts of foolish mankind today. Again, Byatt is not forcing a comparison but noting that today, people are trying to destroy the world as surely as the gods' fate was a foregone conclusion.
Like Loki, the thin child likes to see and learn about things. And like the gods and modern human despoilers, she can be callously destructive:
She gathered great bunches of wild flowers, cowslips full of honey, scabious in blue cushions, dog-roses, and took them home, where they did not live long, which did not concern her, for there were always more springing up in their place. They flourished and faded and died and always came back next spring, and always would, the thin child thought, long after she herself was dead. Maybe most of all she loved the wild poppies, which made the green bank scarlet as blood. She liked to pick a bud that was fat and ready to open, green-lipped and hairy. Then with her fingers she would prise the petal-case apart, and extract the red, crumpled silk -- slightly damp, she thought -- and spread it out in the sunlight. She knew in her heart she should not do this. She was cutting a life short, interrupting a natural unfolding, for the pleasure of satisfied curiosity and the glimpse of the secret, scarlet, creased and frilly flower-fresh. Which wilted almost immediately between finger and thumb. But there were always more, so many more.
In one of the interesting asides, Byatt muses on whether anything the gods could have done could have changed their fate. No matter what they did, however, there is the certainty that things would still turn out this way. This is not a fairy tale where there are heroes who win fair maidens and fair maidens who are rescued, nor is this fiction purportedly under the control of an author (the notion that characters speak to an author is not addressed). This is myth. This is going to end badly.
For a book that is only 171 pages, Byatt densely packs in setting the stage to display the breadth, width and depth of both the world of the gods and the sphere of the thin child, reveals the acts that will culminate in Ragnarok itself -- especially the death of golden god Baldur and Loki's subsequent flight and capture -- and the end of that world as the gods are destroyed.
After the end of the gods, the thin child's wartime ends. Her story is not one of heroic acts and brave deeds, but is instead the very essence of quiet drabness and the realization that there are no great dreams to be dreamt. The thin child, living in what Byatt calls a thin world, has been a framing device to get the reader into wondering how the acts of the gods matter to the way the reader considers the real world outside the covers of a book.
Byatt concludes with thoughts on myths. These include her choices for not including an aftermath of Ragnarok, called Gimle, that is sometimes likened to a Christian second coming, and that she did not build characterizations and motivations for the gods beyond the basics -- they are not full-fledged characters on purpose. These choices well serve Byatt's belief that myths are porous. The way they are told always says something about the teller, and usually about the world of the teller. Perhaps fittingly for a retelling that incorporates WWII, Wagner's Norse gods are wrested away from their Nazi admirer. She compares and contrasts aspects of the story with Christian mythology and anchors the Norse gods with a larger framework of Western civilization.
For a retelling of the Ragnarok myth that spares nothing but which is filled with gorgeous language, Byatt stands with the best who influenced her.
In Ragnarok, part of the Canongate series on myths, Byatt does not merge the stories or force their comparison. Nor does what happens to a thin child evacuated to the British countryside, who is certain she will never see her father again, overshadow the mythical world. Instead, Byatt presents two entwined, long setpieces -- one of the evacuated thin child, who is nameless, and the other a retelling of the destruction of the gods with just a touch of meta commentary. She ends with a comparison of the destruction of the gods to the destructive acts of foolish mankind today. Again, Byatt is not forcing a comparison but noting that today, people are trying to destroy the world as surely as the gods' fate was a foregone conclusion.
Like Loki, the thin child likes to see and learn about things. And like the gods and modern human despoilers, she can be callously destructive:
She gathered great bunches of wild flowers, cowslips full of honey, scabious in blue cushions, dog-roses, and took them home, where they did not live long, which did not concern her, for there were always more springing up in their place. They flourished and faded and died and always came back next spring, and always would, the thin child thought, long after she herself was dead. Maybe most of all she loved the wild poppies, which made the green bank scarlet as blood. She liked to pick a bud that was fat and ready to open, green-lipped and hairy. Then with her fingers she would prise the petal-case apart, and extract the red, crumpled silk -- slightly damp, she thought -- and spread it out in the sunlight. She knew in her heart she should not do this. She was cutting a life short, interrupting a natural unfolding, for the pleasure of satisfied curiosity and the glimpse of the secret, scarlet, creased and frilly flower-fresh. Which wilted almost immediately between finger and thumb. But there were always more, so many more.
In one of the interesting asides, Byatt muses on whether anything the gods could have done could have changed their fate. No matter what they did, however, there is the certainty that things would still turn out this way. This is not a fairy tale where there are heroes who win fair maidens and fair maidens who are rescued, nor is this fiction purportedly under the control of an author (the notion that characters speak to an author is not addressed). This is myth. This is going to end badly.
For a book that is only 171 pages, Byatt densely packs in setting the stage to display the breadth, width and depth of both the world of the gods and the sphere of the thin child, reveals the acts that will culminate in Ragnarok itself -- especially the death of golden god Baldur and Loki's subsequent flight and capture -- and the end of that world as the gods are destroyed.
After the end of the gods, the thin child's wartime ends. Her story is not one of heroic acts and brave deeds, but is instead the very essence of quiet drabness and the realization that there are no great dreams to be dreamt. The thin child, living in what Byatt calls a thin world, has been a framing device to get the reader into wondering how the acts of the gods matter to the way the reader considers the real world outside the covers of a book.
Byatt concludes with thoughts on myths. These include her choices for not including an aftermath of Ragnarok, called Gimle, that is sometimes likened to a Christian second coming, and that she did not build characterizations and motivations for the gods beyond the basics -- they are not full-fledged characters on purpose. These choices well serve Byatt's belief that myths are porous. The way they are told always says something about the teller, and usually about the world of the teller. Perhaps fittingly for a retelling that incorporates WWII, Wagner's Norse gods are wrested away from their Nazi admirer. She compares and contrasts aspects of the story with Christian mythology and anchors the Norse gods with a larger framework of Western civilization.
For a retelling of the Ragnarok myth that spares nothing but which is filled with gorgeous language, Byatt stands with the best who influenced her.
This is the most difficult review I’ve written to date because a) I do not, as a general rule, discuss my religious viewpoints and b) I am rendered almost speechless by how powerfully this book affected me and any type of summary of the subject matter or my experience feels like it would be utterly inadequate.
But here goes anyway…
It’s a rare occurrence when an artist is able to so absolutely communicate your own emotions that it feels as if you were two parts of a whole. To be able to come to terms with feelings that you had been incapable of expressing up until that point feels like a profound release. As a child who felt alone and misunderstood because of my own religious beliefs (even to this day), I am so grateful to A. S. Byatt for creating this experience for me.
But here goes anyway…
It’s a rare occurrence when an artist is able to so absolutely communicate your own emotions that it feels as if you were two parts of a whole. To be able to come to terms with feelings that you had been incapable of expressing up until that point feels like a profound release. As a child who felt alone and misunderstood because of my own religious beliefs (even to this day), I am so grateful to A. S. Byatt for creating this experience for me.
DNF. Some gorgeous nature writing here but my interest in Norse mythology just isn't strong enough for me to make it through the rest.