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A review by lanternheart
If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio
5.0
As a lover of Shakespeare and a current thespian, as well as a lover of Donna Tartt’s ‘The Secret History’, I could hardly ignore this book once I found it in the bookshop, and was hardly disappointed. I’ll be the first to say that it’s firmly entrenched in the actor’s world, and the world of Shakespeare — much in the same way that ‘The Secret History’ was somewhat stilted for me due to my lack of knowledge about the classics, so will this book seem to those relatively unacquainted with the Bard and the stage.
However, this book promises the full force of a Shakespearean drama within itself, and much like any of his tragedies, you can only watch (or read, in our case) as the story continues to twist in on itself in unexpected turns, plunging dreadfully downward towards the tragic conclusion. I’ll be the first to say that James’ guilt and death wrenched my heart, and the fact that Rio gave him such a further complexity as the book developed than when he was introduced was well-done.
Perhaps out of a dreadful sense of premonition, perhaps in knowing a book so firmly entrenched in the stage and world that I love was inextricably ending, I found myself crying on and off throughout the last four chapters. Having seen Pericles, noting the shifts in James’ final note to Oliver was a sucker-punch.
Yes, this book may not have perfect characters (I’ve swung back and forth on my opinions of Oliver like a pendulum, and Filippa’s part in it all left me a bit slack-jawed) but it has a tragic conclusion and twists and fights and relationships and unspoken loves to satisfy lovers of both the Bard and the stage on which those who bring his work to life thrive. Perhaps it’s only because I’m intimate with both that this work struck like a knife, but take my review with what you will because of it.
However, this book promises the full force of a Shakespearean drama within itself, and much like any of his tragedies, you can only watch (or read, in our case) as the story continues to twist in on itself in unexpected turns, plunging dreadfully downward towards the tragic conclusion. I’ll be the first to say that James’ guilt and death wrenched my heart, and the fact that Rio gave him such a further complexity as the book developed than when he was introduced was well-done.
Perhaps out of a dreadful sense of premonition, perhaps in knowing a book so firmly entrenched in the stage and world that I love was inextricably ending, I found myself crying on and off throughout the last four chapters. Having seen Pericles, noting the shifts in James’ final note to Oliver was a sucker-punch.
Yes, this book may not have perfect characters (I’ve swung back and forth on my opinions of Oliver like a pendulum, and Filippa’s part in it all left me a bit slack-jawed) but it has a tragic conclusion and twists and fights and relationships and unspoken loves to satisfy lovers of both the Bard and the stage on which those who bring his work to life thrive. Perhaps it’s only because I’m intimate with both that this work struck like a knife, but take my review with what you will because of it.