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A review by sandygx260
The Wolf Gift by Anne Rice
1.0
Here’s a little history. I read Anne Rice when I was a teenager back in 1976. Yep, I was sixteen.
When I was twenty-five, Anne blew my mind with “The Vampire Lestat”. Hail the Brat Prince. Damn, I still think Lestat is one of the best characters ever and yes, he has influenced my writing. In fact, I raced through the novel again to prime myself for “The Wolf Gift.”
To backtrack, I thought the Mayfair Witches series was amazing. I still don’t understand how HBO hasn’t crafted a killer series from those books. “The Mummy” was also remarkable but Rice let it die. Why?
As a fan, I kept reading her books until I started wondering what the hell was going on in her universe. The books seemed more and more silly.
Then Rice made the “GOD” jump. She lost me there. I said good luck and farewell.
Then came “The Wolf Gift.” Ooo, Rice explores the supernatural realm? I bit. I read.
I read, read, read. Surely I had been duped! This couldn’t be Anne Rice. Well, wait, long rambling passages of purple prose; check; too much God stuff; check; passages in serious need of editing; check.
I lost count of how many characters “stood in the door.” Ouch. It’s never comfortable being trapped inside a door.
Okay, I’ll stop rambling. Let’s get down to basics. This book never engaged me. The characters were distant and stiff. If Rice had dropped a nuclear bomb on them, I would have shrugged and closed the book. All the characters speak in the same, stilted cadences. They all sound like boring history professors. The good guys give “soft” glances and understanding expressions. The bad guys smell like malice; two evil doctors sound like Boris and Natasha from “Rocky and Bullwinkle.” “Man Wolf and Boy Wolf must die.” Ouch.
Plus the scene between Ruben and “faux” Felix with the lawyers is pure Monty Python comedy. I started laughing.
I finished because I wondered if Rice intended to keep this series going. I smell a sequel. Have fun! I won’t follow her into her mumbo-jumbo-God-werewolf nonsense world.
I’ll end with a quote from Rice: “There was never a perfect joy in writing about Lestat: Lestat suffers too much and does too many bad things with relish.”
Really? Rice trashes her best character. Bye!
When I was twenty-five, Anne blew my mind with “The Vampire Lestat”. Hail the Brat Prince. Damn, I still think Lestat is one of the best characters ever and yes, he has influenced my writing. In fact, I raced through the novel again to prime myself for “The Wolf Gift.”
To backtrack, I thought the Mayfair Witches series was amazing. I still don’t understand how HBO hasn’t crafted a killer series from those books. “The Mummy” was also remarkable but Rice let it die. Why?
As a fan, I kept reading her books until I started wondering what the hell was going on in her universe. The books seemed more and more silly.
Then Rice made the “GOD” jump. She lost me there. I said good luck and farewell.
Then came “The Wolf Gift.” Ooo, Rice explores the supernatural realm? I bit. I read.
I read, read, read. Surely I had been duped! This couldn’t be Anne Rice. Well, wait, long rambling passages of purple prose; check; too much God stuff; check; passages in serious need of editing; check.
I lost count of how many characters “stood in the door.” Ouch. It’s never comfortable being trapped inside a door.
Okay, I’ll stop rambling. Let’s get down to basics. This book never engaged me. The characters were distant and stiff. If Rice had dropped a nuclear bomb on them, I would have shrugged and closed the book. All the characters speak in the same, stilted cadences. They all sound like boring history professors. The good guys give “soft” glances and understanding expressions. The bad guys smell like malice; two evil doctors sound like Boris and Natasha from “Rocky and Bullwinkle.” “Man Wolf and Boy Wolf must die.” Ouch.
Plus the scene between Ruben and “faux” Felix with the lawyers is pure Monty Python comedy. I started laughing.
I finished because I wondered if Rice intended to keep this series going. I smell a sequel. Have fun! I won’t follow her into her mumbo-jumbo-God-werewolf nonsense world.
I’ll end with a quote from Rice: “There was never a perfect joy in writing about Lestat: Lestat suffers too much and does too many bad things with relish.”
Really? Rice trashes her best character. Bye!