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3.25 AVERAGE
3.25 AVERAGE
Red Moon, while heavy handed with the politics, is still a quite interesting take on an alternate, werewolf-filled universe.
You can read my full review at HorrorTalk.com.
You can read my full review at HorrorTalk.com.
Summer Reading by Moonlight:
The werewolves in Benjamin Percy’s fantastic novel, Red Moon, are a force to be reckoned with, clawing their way out of our collective consciousness to suggest many allegorical connections: the heightened paranoia of the post 9/11 era, the camps during World War II, reservations on the plains—any Other we have feared and ghettoized in the name of public safety. As in any good horror novel, the scariest part is how human the werewolves—called “lycans” in the novel—become on the page, how real, how like us. As in any good literary novel—and this one is beautifully written, the prose transporting us from the wilderness of the Pacific Northwest to the Lycan Republic of Northern Europe—the writing also has things to say about the human condition. And herein lays the novel’s lasting, staying power: beyond the blood and guts this is a book that makes us think about who we are.
Survey the populace around you and on any given day, up to forty percent of the American populace is medicated in some form or another. We are not so different from the lycans in Red Moon, who use Lupex to control the highs and lows of their animal self. Midway into the novel, I was struck by this passage. One of my favorite characters in the book is a scientist named Neal Desai who is determined to find a cure for lycanthropy because his daughter was infected:
"His daughter, Sridavi, is a lost girl. That’s how he thinks of her—though really she is not so much a girl anymore at twenty-two. Her eyes swim with drugs. Her skin always has a sheen of sweat to it. Her bones press against her skin so harshly he fears they might cut through. The black smears beneath her eyes darken her otherwise yellowish complexion. Looking at her makes him feel scraped out by something sharp, a wound that no suture can help heal."
Neal’s desperation, his drive, is both palpable and emotionally resonant. He’s just one of many great characters readers encounter in this epic book. It’s no accident, I believe, that two of the principal characters we meet as young adults: Patrick, the “Miracle Boy” who survives an act of terrorism in the opening pages, and Claire, a lycan on the run from a mysterious figure, the Tall Man, who killed her parents because of their connection to the Resistance. By nature, teenagers feel their bodies surge with alien hormones and feelings. They have the physical capacity of adults—with all that means in terms of risk, danger, and the power to heal or harm—but their reasoning is still in development. Here’s Neal again writing about his daughter:
"…Instead, she claimed the haunting came from the daughter, a teenager, black haired and black fingernailed, dosed on medication for her depression. She was possessed by darkness that had turn possessed their home. “She is devouring you,” Madam Serena said.
"When Neal sits in the living room illuminated by the flickering light of the television, when he sees the vomit-splattered toilet bowl and hears the moans coming from his daughter’s room and faces the stiff, cold silence of his wife in bed, he, too, feels as though his daughter is slowly devouring him, devouring them all…"
This suspenseful read kept me up nights, devouring sleep, and the werewolves who lurked in these pages, their shambling forms half human and half beast, made me pause and gaze at the wilderness and darkness that exists in the world outside, and more importantly at the one inside, the landscape of the heart.
The werewolves in Benjamin Percy’s fantastic novel, Red Moon, are a force to be reckoned with, clawing their way out of our collective consciousness to suggest many allegorical connections: the heightened paranoia of the post 9/11 era, the camps during World War II, reservations on the plains—any Other we have feared and ghettoized in the name of public safety. As in any good horror novel, the scariest part is how human the werewolves—called “lycans” in the novel—become on the page, how real, how like us. As in any good literary novel—and this one is beautifully written, the prose transporting us from the wilderness of the Pacific Northwest to the Lycan Republic of Northern Europe—the writing also has things to say about the human condition. And herein lays the novel’s lasting, staying power: beyond the blood and guts this is a book that makes us think about who we are.
Survey the populace around you and on any given day, up to forty percent of the American populace is medicated in some form or another. We are not so different from the lycans in Red Moon, who use Lupex to control the highs and lows of their animal self. Midway into the novel, I was struck by this passage. One of my favorite characters in the book is a scientist named Neal Desai who is determined to find a cure for lycanthropy because his daughter was infected:
"His daughter, Sridavi, is a lost girl. That’s how he thinks of her—though really she is not so much a girl anymore at twenty-two. Her eyes swim with drugs. Her skin always has a sheen of sweat to it. Her bones press against her skin so harshly he fears they might cut through. The black smears beneath her eyes darken her otherwise yellowish complexion. Looking at her makes him feel scraped out by something sharp, a wound that no suture can help heal."
Neal’s desperation, his drive, is both palpable and emotionally resonant. He’s just one of many great characters readers encounter in this epic book. It’s no accident, I believe, that two of the principal characters we meet as young adults: Patrick, the “Miracle Boy” who survives an act of terrorism in the opening pages, and Claire, a lycan on the run from a mysterious figure, the Tall Man, who killed her parents because of their connection to the Resistance. By nature, teenagers feel their bodies surge with alien hormones and feelings. They have the physical capacity of adults—with all that means in terms of risk, danger, and the power to heal or harm—but their reasoning is still in development. Here’s Neal again writing about his daughter:
"…Instead, she claimed the haunting came from the daughter, a teenager, black haired and black fingernailed, dosed on medication for her depression. She was possessed by darkness that had turn possessed their home. “She is devouring you,” Madam Serena said.
"When Neal sits in the living room illuminated by the flickering light of the television, when he sees the vomit-splattered toilet bowl and hears the moans coming from his daughter’s room and faces the stiff, cold silence of his wife in bed, he, too, feels as though his daughter is slowly devouring him, devouring them all…"
This suspenseful read kept me up nights, devouring sleep, and the werewolves who lurked in these pages, their shambling forms half human and half beast, made me pause and gaze at the wilderness and darkness that exists in the world outside, and more importantly at the one inside, the landscape of the heart.
"Red Moon" imagines a world where werewolves are a very real part of society. Lycans (as they are called in the book) suffer from a disease that can be transmitted through a bite or unprotected sex, or inherited from infected parents. In the United States they must be registered and are required to take a drug that inhibits transformation (it also dulls their senses, forcing them to live their lives in a cloudy haze). Abroad, they have established a nation in Eastern Europe (The Lupine Republic). But since that area is rich in uranium, and this version of the U.S. relies heavily on nuclear power, an American military presence keeps mining operations running smoothly. This leads to acts of terrorism by lycans who want the ‘occupiers’ to leave. One such act (the downing of a commercial airliner by a single lycan) kicks off the novel.
"Red Moon" is equal parts horror story and social commentary. But unlike “True Blood" on HBO, the monsters at the centre of it don’t have a clear parallel in our world. They are victims of a disease and people fear infection, an obvious parallel from sufferers of HIV. But when a militant minority commits acts of terrorism that paint all lycans as dangerous, they become an analogue for Muslims in America. The Lupine Republic seems like Iraq with its military occupation that some say is motivated by American energy dependence, but it was established as a refuge for lycans after World War II like Israel. That’s what I enjoyed the most about “Red Moon"; it’s complex and rejects a simple “werewolves represent __________" formula.
The book shifts through several perspectives, but at its core it has three main characters: a werewolf girl whose parents were once radicals, a human boy whose soldier father is stationed in the Lupine Republic, and a politician whose hardline rhetoric on lycans has him on track to be the next president of the United States. Through their eyes we learn about the world, its history, and the lycans’ place in it.
"Red Moon" isn’t perfect, and I had some problems with the third act especially (one character has an ‘action hero’ moment that seems designed to woo a big name actor to the role should a film adaptation materialize, and a female character is held hostage and sexually abused in graphic scenes that do nothing to advance the plot). But the world Benjamin Percy has created is well realized and feels genuine, and the writing is strong. That it reminded me of “The Passage" is probably the best compliment I can pay it.
"Red Moon" is equal parts horror story and social commentary. But unlike “True Blood" on HBO, the monsters at the centre of it don’t have a clear parallel in our world. They are victims of a disease and people fear infection, an obvious parallel from sufferers of HIV. But when a militant minority commits acts of terrorism that paint all lycans as dangerous, they become an analogue for Muslims in America. The Lupine Republic seems like Iraq with its military occupation that some say is motivated by American energy dependence, but it was established as a refuge for lycans after World War II like Israel. That’s what I enjoyed the most about “Red Moon"; it’s complex and rejects a simple “werewolves represent __________" formula.
The book shifts through several perspectives, but at its core it has three main characters: a werewolf girl whose parents were once radicals, a human boy whose soldier father is stationed in the Lupine Republic, and a politician whose hardline rhetoric on lycans has him on track to be the next president of the United States. Through their eyes we learn about the world, its history, and the lycans’ place in it.
"Red Moon" isn’t perfect, and I had some problems with the third act especially (one character has an ‘action hero’ moment that seems designed to woo a big name actor to the role should a film adaptation materialize, and a female character is held hostage and sexually abused in graphic scenes that do nothing to advance the plot). But the world Benjamin Percy has created is well realized and feels genuine, and the writing is strong. That it reminded me of “The Passage" is probably the best compliment I can pay it.
From the blurb alone, you wouldn’t necessarily know this was a book featuring werewolves. You may be able to guess from the title, but it’s not immediately obvious. And the reason that I say a book featuring werewolves, rather than a werewolf book, is because there is so much more to the story than the fact that werewolves exist in this world. It’s less about the paranormal elements, and more of a commentary on the state of the world, how judgmental people can be when they find out someone is a little ‘different’, even if they treated that person with kindness and respect before.
To begin with, the reader is made aware that lycans are common knowledge. Everyone knows they exist, and in a Big Brother style move, the government decrees that they must all be listed on a register, for anyone to look up. Registered lycans must also undergo regular blood tests to make sure they are taking ‘Volpexx’, the drug that controls the change. So whilst at first it may seem that it’s not all that bad – many people are tolerant if not accepting – it soon becomes clear that lycans are second-rate citizens, not considered human despite the fact that they could be your friends, parents, siblings, grand-parents, anyone you know.
Only a few pages in, I had already come to the conclusion that I really loved Benjamin Percy’s writing style. It flows so smoothly and is wonderfully descriptive – but unfortunately, the story really slowed down about halfway through and almost seemed to drag in places. This is where the descriptive writing became more of a hindrance; I just wanted things to progress. However, in some places the slow pace worked really well where it was interspersed with sudden shocking moments and jumps, but I was never really scared. From a lot of the quotes on the inside cover, I expected the book to be pretty terrifying and was fully prepared to have to sleep with the lights on. However, but for a few eerie moments, it just didn’t do it for me in terms of a good scare.
There are three main characters within the story, although the book does skip around and follow a couple more, and I think it was the sudden changes as well as the fact that even the main characters didn’t feel massively fleshed out that meant I didn’t particularly care for them. Claire probably had the most interesting story, although I don’t think she developed much as a character.
Despite the fact that the conclusion was rather unsatisfying, I did enjoy this book – just not as much as I expected. Whilst it’s beautifully written and clever, it was just far too slow for my liking. And not at all scary – surprising, considering that Stephen King found it terrifying!
I received a copy of this book for free from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review. Originally posted on my former blog, Rinn Reads.
To begin with, the reader is made aware that lycans are common knowledge. Everyone knows they exist, and in a Big Brother style move, the government decrees that they must all be listed on a register, for anyone to look up. Registered lycans must also undergo regular blood tests to make sure they are taking ‘Volpexx’, the drug that controls the change. So whilst at first it may seem that it’s not all that bad – many people are tolerant if not accepting – it soon becomes clear that lycans are second-rate citizens, not considered human despite the fact that they could be your friends, parents, siblings, grand-parents, anyone you know.
Only a few pages in, I had already come to the conclusion that I really loved Benjamin Percy’s writing style. It flows so smoothly and is wonderfully descriptive – but unfortunately, the story really slowed down about halfway through and almost seemed to drag in places. This is where the descriptive writing became more of a hindrance; I just wanted things to progress. However, in some places the slow pace worked really well where it was interspersed with sudden shocking moments and jumps, but I was never really scared. From a lot of the quotes on the inside cover, I expected the book to be pretty terrifying and was fully prepared to have to sleep with the lights on. However, but for a few eerie moments, it just didn’t do it for me in terms of a good scare.
There are three main characters within the story, although the book does skip around and follow a couple more, and I think it was the sudden changes as well as the fact that even the main characters didn’t feel massively fleshed out that meant I didn’t particularly care for them. Claire probably had the most interesting story, although I don’t think she developed much as a character.
Despite the fact that the conclusion was rather unsatisfying, I did enjoy this book – just not as much as I expected. Whilst it’s beautifully written and clever, it was just far too slow for my liking. And not at all scary – surprising, considering that Stephen King found it terrifying!
I received a copy of this book for free from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review. Originally posted on my former blog, Rinn Reads.
This started off well with a promising twist of four separate plots and the way they weave together. But 3/4 of the way through, I'm thinking, "what's the central conflict?" because the main story of lycan not being accepted is pretty much your old immigration allegory where immigrants are not accepted and when a few become terrorists, the rest are punished for that. That narrative can only sustain itself for so long before it plays itself out. And this one plays itself out. And since the immigrant story has been told and is one we are familiar with, it needs no retelling in the form of another Other (the lycan representing Middle Eastern immigrants). It is as if I were to now do an allegory of "The Prodigal Son" because I felt like it. What would be the point?
About 7/8th of the way through, something so illogical occurs that I just decided the interesting phrasing and sentence-level brilliance that Percy shows in some of his prose wasn't worth it. It is as if he forgets that for most of the novel, he has been basing his reality on one fact and one ideology, and then it all goes to hell with an action that just doesn't make sense or fit with the story's pattern so far. It's not even a postmodern ploy; it just feels like the author wanted to switch genres at the end and did so without much skill or care.
So most of this book is engaging and interesting up until it's suddenly not.
About 7/8th of the way through, something so illogical occurs that I just decided the interesting phrasing and sentence-level brilliance that Percy shows in some of his prose wasn't worth it. It is as if he forgets that for most of the novel, he has been basing his reality on one fact and one ideology, and then it all goes to hell with an action that just doesn't make sense or fit with the story's pattern so far. It's not even a postmodern ploy; it just feels like the author wanted to switch genres at the end and did so without much skill or care.
So most of this book is engaging and interesting up until it's suddenly not.
Couldn't get into this at all - hoped that something would hook me, but gave up after the first hundred pages.
I really liked this book. The writing was very well done. It got great reviews. It was a terrific story with good characters. The very premise of the plot was a 9/11 plot where Percy essentially substitutes Lycans for that of Muslims at the time of 9/11. The book opens with a terrorist plot on an airplane, terrifying in its detail. The book gradually unfolds the deepening divide of the Lycan and Human population as the terrorism continues. Percy develops several prominent characters that illustrate this increasing divide. He sheds a severe light on the violation of human/Lycan rights that results. Claire, a Lycan, whose parents are killed by government forces for their revolutionary tactics. Patrick, whose father is a solider who serves in the Republic and whose mother is a Lycan. Eventually these two meet, separatae and then come together again throughout the chaos of the battle between Lycans and Humans.
3.5 stars This book has gotten a lot of bad reviews but I actually enjoyed it. It is long but that's why I love audiobooks- I can multitask. It reminded me a little of The Passage( just insert werewolves in place of vampires) so if you enjoyed that I'd recommend this one. I'm interested to read more of his stuff.
werewolf? there wolf! and with that little ditty from Young Frankenstein, i lay this turkey to rest. holy cow, what terrible writing. surprising because i read Percy's The Wilding not long ago and really liked it.