Scan barcode
A review by thegreatmanda
Waiting for the Flood by Alexis Hall
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
In a world full of Alexis Hall books that I love, this one stands apart as something special. Five stars don't feel like enough; it deserves something more than that, some kind of asterisk to say, oh, but this one, this one enchanted me.
It walks through Edwin's home and memories, Marius's misadventures and rocky heart, in a way that is both ethereal and firmly grounded in the reality of Oxford. The language is lovely, the emotions are deep, and the characters are achingly genuine.
Whenever I read the first part, Edwin breaks my heart all over again, and I’m angry with Marius all over again. And then I get to Chasing the Light, and Marius makes me cry all over again. It took me a few read-throughs to pick up on just how many truths Marius shared with Leo in the first 48 hours—something as everyday as disliking tea, up to as personal as disliking giving head—that he couldn’t tell Edwin in ten years together.
I think I own every format available of this book now, and I have to give a special mention to Will Watt’s audio performance. I don’t have the words; it’s just exactly right and so beautiful.
Favorite Quotes:
It walks through Edwin's home and memories, Marius's misadventures and rocky heart, in a way that is both ethereal and firmly grounded in the reality of Oxford. The language is lovely, the emotions are deep, and the characters are achingly genuine.
Whenever I read the first part, Edwin breaks my heart all over again, and I’m angry with Marius all over again. And then I get to Chasing the Light, and Marius makes me cry all over again. It took me a few read-throughs to pick up on just how many truths Marius shared with Leo in the first 48 hours—something as everyday as disliking tea, up to as personal as disliking giving head—that he couldn’t tell Edwin in ten years together.
I think I own every format available of this book now, and I have to give a special mention to Will Watt’s audio performance. I don’t have the words; it’s just exactly right and so beautiful.
Favorite Quotes:
We should have made castles while we still had the chance.
"People don't want to hurt each other; it's just sometimes they forget."
Even when I was a child I hadn't been inclined to splosh about. Seen, not heard, hungry for my parents' love, and always on my best behaviour, it would simply not have occurred to me that it was the sort of thing you could take pleasure in.
Maybe loving things as they deserved to be loved just wasn't my forte.
So much for nobody to judge me. I was here, after all.
This was unending. Like I was in my own personal circle of hell: just my mother being helpful, over and over again, until I begged to be set on fire and transferred to Satan's arsehole.
We kissed like we didn't know better. Like we'd never known fear or hurt of self-destruction. Like there was nothing in the world but kissing. Not even sex. Not even tomorrow.
Can't barely scratched the surface of the nothing that had rooted itself inside me, spreading like knotweed in some once-blooming garden.
"A lot of art is created from affliction. We've covered this."
His thumb settled, warm and certain, in the centre of my palm. "Well, maybe yours isn't. Maybe you just need to let yourself be hurt right now."
The blue-grey river, still ice dappled, the soft rucking of the water, creased like sheets between a lover's fingers, to mark our passage. Behind us, transient arrows left upon the surface fading into nothing but dreams and stillness. And everything else—the promise of sky. Endless, unreachable light.
I should have been used to this too. His boldness and his candour. The way he spread his love before me like a picnic blanket—when Marius's had always been a treasure hunt, signs and signals, whispers in the dark, flickers of gold in the dust.