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A review by jarofbees
At the Mountains of Madness by H.P. Lovecraft
adventurous
mysterious
slow-paced
2.0
Tekeli-li! What nameless preternatural aeon could compel me to enjoy this dense overwrought itty bitty tome? If only it had been shorter, or edited.
This book dragggggged, with a capital D. There were moments that captured my attention and intrigued me and it was this hope alone that got me through.
But wait! Here comes our narrator to tell me something important. “Hey bro, you heard about these rocks? Sometimes they’re carved, sometimes they’re icy, sometimes they’re carved and icy, also sometimes they’re icy but not as icy and snow covered as they were before, also don’t even get me started on the carved icy snow covered rocks because…”, literally stop! I don’t care.
It felt like this book wanted to frustrate me to make a point, and I took that personally.
This book dragggggged, with a capital D. There were moments that captured my attention and intrigued me and it was this hope alone that got me through.
But wait! Here comes our narrator to tell me something important. “Hey bro, you heard about these rocks? Sometimes they’re carved, sometimes they’re icy, sometimes they’re carved and icy, also sometimes they’re icy but not as icy and snow covered as they were before, also don’t even get me started on the carved icy snow covered rocks because…”, literally stop! I don’t care.
It felt like this book wanted to frustrate me to make a point, and I took that personally.