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A review by saroz162
Peter & Max by Bill Willingham
3.0
This is the second of two novels I've read by Willingham - the first being the more recent Down the Mysterly River - and it directly follows my reading of the first ten volumes of his comic series Fables, which features the same world as Peter & Max. Despite an unusually hand-holding introduction bringing readers into the reality of Fables, the novel is almost entirely standalone from the series; it has little consequence on, and barely involves, the regular characters.
I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion that Willingham really can't write prose. Peter & Max, like Mysterly River, is plagued with awkward sentences and strangely bitty writing; they both feature fairytale environments with sudden, shocking, and sometimes off-puttingly grim violence (which, in fairness, can occur in Fables as well); and there's a damn weird streak of misogyny that I'm sure is intended to demonstrate the unpleasantness of certain characters, yet mostly serves to reflect badly on the author himself. (Hint: there is nothing quite like being privy to the innermost thoughts of a violent teenager as he contemplates assaulting ten-year-old girls.) Again, like Mysterly River, I was struck by the relative richness of the scenario Willingham composed at the beginning, as well as how it all seemed to descend into an almost trite conclusion. This really doesn't bode well for any future novels Willingham writes. In fact, it makes me worry about the second half of Fables.
Although I don't think it ultimately impacted my frustration with the book too much, I should also point out that I found Willingham's depiction of a disabled character - self-pitying, self-loathing, and of course, anxious to be cured - not just wildly inappropriate but remarkably out of date. It's a little thing, but as a high-functioning disabled wheelchair user, I found his depiction extremely distasteful.
I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion that Willingham really can't write prose. Peter & Max, like Mysterly River, is plagued with awkward sentences and strangely bitty writing; they both feature fairytale environments with sudden, shocking, and sometimes off-puttingly grim violence (which, in fairness, can occur in Fables as well); and there's a damn weird streak of misogyny that I'm sure is intended to demonstrate the unpleasantness of certain characters, yet mostly serves to reflect badly on the author himself. (Hint: there is nothing quite like being privy to the innermost thoughts of a violent teenager as he contemplates assaulting ten-year-old girls.) Again, like Mysterly River, I was struck by the relative richness of the scenario Willingham composed at the beginning, as well as how it all seemed to descend into an almost trite conclusion. This really doesn't bode well for any future novels Willingham writes. In fact, it makes me worry about the second half of Fables.
Although I don't think it ultimately impacted my frustration with the book too much, I should also point out that I found Willingham's depiction of a disabled character - self-pitying, self-loathing, and of course, anxious to be cured - not just wildly inappropriate but remarkably out of date. It's a little thing, but as a high-functioning disabled wheelchair user, I found his depiction extremely distasteful.