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A review by kandicez
Shroud of Sorrow by Tommy Donbavand
3.0
I wavered between two and three stars. I’m still not sure. The characterization in this book was spot on. I could hear and see Matt Smith and Jenna Coleman as I read. Donbavand is obviously a fan, not only of Doctor Who in general, but of the Twelfth Doctor in particular because I don’t think I've read such a perfect written representation of a television character. Ever. That includes Max Allan Collins who I thought was the absolute king in this area.
The Doctor and Clara are drawn to Earth on the day after the Kennedy assassination when the nation, possible the world, is experiencing a shared grief and heartache. Something is toning up the grief for reasons unknown until the Doctor arrives and discovers the Shroud. The Shroud was a terrific Doctor Who nemesis. An alien entity that feeds on grief. The Shroud searches your mind for the source of your most poignant grief and then impersonates it and twists memories to intensify your anguish. Dobavand wrote the Shroud well enough, and in such an exquisitely detailed way, that I feel I almost “watched” this episode unfold.
The waffling has nothing to do with characters. My torn feelings are in regards to the plot. The first two thirds or so of the book was a joy to read. When we travel through a wormhole in search of the Shroud’s last feeding ground and meet the clowns...not so much. The entire premise of the clowns was just silly to me. Doctor Who requires a certain acceptance, affection even, for silliness, but there is a certain point where silliness becomes stupidity. I feel Donbavand crossed that line with the clowns.
In the end the Doctor saves the day (of course!) But only by reliving his own moments of grief. Those of us that know and love the Doctor know just how much grief he has felt over his centuries of life. He again shows his willingness to suffer for others. It’s this willingness that causes those he encounters to trust and follow him. I would.
The Doctor and Clara are drawn to Earth on the day after the Kennedy assassination when the nation, possible the world, is experiencing a shared grief and heartache. Something is toning up the grief for reasons unknown until the Doctor arrives and discovers the Shroud. The Shroud was a terrific Doctor Who nemesis. An alien entity that feeds on grief. The Shroud searches your mind for the source of your most poignant grief and then impersonates it and twists memories to intensify your anguish. Dobavand wrote the Shroud well enough, and in such an exquisitely detailed way, that I feel I almost “watched” this episode unfold.
The waffling has nothing to do with characters. My torn feelings are in regards to the plot. The first two thirds or so of the book was a joy to read. When we travel through a wormhole in search of the Shroud’s last feeding ground and meet the clowns...not so much. The entire premise of the clowns was just silly to me. Doctor Who requires a certain acceptance, affection even, for silliness, but there is a certain point where silliness becomes stupidity. I feel Donbavand crossed that line with the clowns.
In the end the Doctor saves the day (of course!) But only by reliving his own moments of grief. Those of us that know and love the Doctor know just how much grief he has felt over his centuries of life. He again shows his willingness to suffer for others. It’s this willingness that causes those he encounters to trust and follow him. I would.