The writing was decent but not excellent — there were some sentences that even though I reread them three or four times still didn’t make sense (not too many, but enough that it became annoying).
The characters were a bit all over the place, and to the extent that they developed it was to become worse, less likeable people.
The plot felt weak and had some tangents that didn’t add anything, while also making some leaps that could have used connective details. The opening was interesting, then it lost me, and I kept reading in the hope that it would get better, which it didn’t.
It was fine, but I wouldn’t recommend it. I doubt I’ll try any of his other books.
This felt like a rushed attempt to turn a mediocre screenplay into a mass-appeal formulaic “gritty”police procedural novel equivalent of a herlequin romance — which is fine if that’s what you’re looking for, but it’s not what I like to read. I would have abandoned it after the first few chapters, but it was a selection for one of my two book clubs, so I felt obligated to finish it.
The first chapter was interesting (I felt intrigued, like one should at the beginning of a piece of detective fiction) but then it fell apart.
The writing is choppy, with what could have been decent compound sentences broken up into numerous single-clause sentences, which not only killed any momentum the text might have had, but also frequently resulted in grammatical errors — you cannot have the word “until” in a sentence unless there is a second clause (it can come either before or after the until clause) that explains what was happening until. Putting the until in its own separate sentence, and sandwiching it between two actions either of which could have been the the thing that was happening “until”, is just sloppy writing.
The vocabulary is run of the mill, which is absolutely fine, but makes “oleaginous” stand out like a flashing neon sign — just say oily, dude.
A huge portion of the text is extremely detailed descriptions that do nothing to create a mood, or reveal character, or scatter clues — they’re just long dry descriptions with no purpose. In this book, if the curtains are blue, it’s just because they’re effing blue. I’m not saying that every detail needs to have profound meaning, but it’s nice if some of them do.
I found the characters to be two-dimensional and didn’t particularly care about any of them, because none of them felt like real people.
It was a slog to get through this book, and a relief when I got to “THE END” (which is actually there, in all caps, at the end of the text). There are so many good books in the world; high quality detective fiction, and speculative fiction about climate catastrophe, and suspenseful thrillers, and compelling portraits of flawed characters . . . give this one a pass and read a few of those.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.75
This is a novel in the style of James Joyce’s Dubliners, with chapters that are really short stories, but which are all woven together through family connections, cross-story character interactions, and circumstance.
It’s difficult for there to be strong character development because each chapter is a snapshot of a person’s life, or of a relationship, or of the ways people cope with loss and grief and catastrophe. But sometimes a character would warrant a mention in a later chapter and their growth would be evident, or at least implied, there.
I highly recommend this book — it’s a well-crafted exploration of humanity, capitalism, harsh realities, and hope.
I’d been interested in this book from the first moment the cover caught my eye in one of my local independent book stores and I read the back cover (particularly because I read Other Minds last year , which is a combination nature and psychology book about actopuses and other cephalopods) so when it turned out to be the September pick for one of the book clubs I belong to I was excited to read it and it did not disappoint me.
I really enjoyed Marcellus as a character — and I think I liked all of the characters, which is rare for me. I got frustrated with characters sometimes, but I was never annoyed by them.
I’m not usually a fan of endings or epilogues that go out of their way to tie up absolutely every last thing with a little bow, but the epilogue in this book was done well, and I wasn’t rolling my eyes at it.
It doesn’t make it into my five star list, but I highly recommend it.
The story was okay, but the main character/narrator is clearly supposed to be some form of neurodivergent, and I found her stereotypical, and internally inconsistent when the plot requires her to be — she came across as a caricature rather than a well-developed character.
Like so many books published in the modern age it felt like this one lacked a good editor; not so much for spelling or grammar, but for content. As an example, the main character describes herself as understanding a concept for the first time when she already demonstrated understanding of it several pages previous. I understand that it was probably a matter of rearranging a sequence of events from a previous draft, but this is the kind of thing I expect either the author or the editor to catch.
Overall the book was fine, but there are better mysteries out there, and there are definitely books with better representation of neurodiverse individuals.
This was a fun and easy read. I’d seen the movie, so although there are some differences I had a general idea of the plot before I started. I recommend this as a bit of a palate cleanser between more challenging reads, and definitely recommend it as a tween/young adult book.
This was King’s first novel, and it has a slightly different feel than some of his later works, but the style was still familiar. It was more similar stylistically to Truth and Bright Water than to Green Grass Running Water, particularly as it lacks the latter’s elements of magical realism, but it’s more like the latter structurally. If you’re looking for a tidy ending that wraps up a clearly defined plot you won’t find that here — but if you’d like to follow meandering trails through the the lives of characters that feel more like real people than like characters, then I recommend this book.
The writing is terrible — grammatical and syntax errors galore. I had no interest in the plot or characters, and there are too many other books that I want to read to force my way through this in the vague hope that it would turn out to be a good story and live up to its hype.
I liked the writing style, I enjoyed reading something written in 2nd person, but because it focused heavily on the lead up to and took place during the Sri Lankan civil war, there was too much mention of torture. It didn’t get graphic in the first 51 pages, but it was frequent and I decided to stop before it became an issue
In the grand scheme of all books I would only give this about a 3.5* rating; I’m not generally the biggest fan of non-fiction, but I decided decided that I want to read at least one non-fiction book every year. I give this 4* as far as biographies go, because it doesn’t feel fair to compare it to “Piranessi” “Pride and Prejudice” or “The Canterbury Tales”.
I was aware in general how badly the press had treated Megan and Harry (I’d witnessed some of it, and also watched the Netflix documentary) but this book goes back further in time, beginning with Diana’s death and ending (in the epilogue) a few days after the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II.
I struggled through the section on his military service — it was interesting, but I have a hard time viewing the military in any kind of positive light. I also felt that Harry had blinders on when he talked about how the wealth of the monarchy (and other vastly rich families) was acquired “when the system was unjust and wealth was generated by exploiting workers and thuggery, annexation and enslaved people” . . . as though the system is now just and workers are no longer exploited; as though keeping land and wealth and possessions obtained in that way could ever be moral. But I suppose we all (or most of us) make excuses for our families. Maybe his position on that will evolve in time — it seemed to be rooted mainly in loyalty to his Granny.
The revelation that he has no memory of ever hugging or being hugged by his father or grandmother, and that he and William have only ever hugged a few times was so sad — not just for Harry, but for all of them.
The text is mostly well-written and well edited, with only a few examples of Harry using the wrong word — in one case the opposite word (he said “nonplussed” when he meant “un-phased”, which is a common mistake, but which any editor worth their salt should have caught).
I can definitely recommend reading this book if you enjoy non-fiction, or are trying to challenge yourself by reading more of it.