This is the second book that I have read by TJ Klune and it is even more clear to me that his voice is strongest with it's whimsical and humorous approach to heavy themes. The characters more than anything else are the true stars of this story and shine thanks to Klune's humor and wit and willingness to lean into comedy and emotion in equal measures.
In the Lives of Puppets follows Victor Lawson, the lone human amongst a group of eccentric robots. We travel along with Victor as he struggles to come to grips with the world that he lives in and what humanity, loyalty, and friendship truly mean. It is on its surface a reimagining of Pinocchio, though for me this comparison was more a guiding thread in a story that is so much more than that.
Overall, I quite enjoyed this. It took me a long time to get through it, but all of the characters were quirky and wonderful. Where I struggled with this book was truly just in terms of connection. The characters and plot felt almost to be in war with each other -- the characters were so whimsical and the overarching plot was a polar opposite to it and the two never felt they merged satisfactorily for me. I commend Klune on his unwillingness to turn to the grim-dark that would be the natural approach to a story such as this, but I do think that many of the emotional moments would have truly sung had they been met with a touch less levity.
Overall, though, it was an enjoyable read and I will continue looking into Klune's other works as well!
“Do you think I could make others understand me, even though I can’t understand myself?”
Almond tells the story of a boy who cannot understand or process emotions. We follow him from childhood, when he is first diagnosed with having a too-small amygdala, through his teenage years and the tragedies he survives. For a book that is so definitively about a character who cannot process or understand emotions, this book is absolutely teeming with it. The emotions seem to seep off of Yunjae's clinical observations.
What I found most striking about this book, I think, is the craftsmanship of both the author and translator. Sohn and Lee are incredibly masterful in the way that they keep Yunjae's narration devoid of emotion, but he never fails to feel human. It never feels difficult to empathize with him even as he struggles to even understand the concept of empathy. I'm not entirely sure how they managed it so effectively, but it was a joy to experience.
I am sure that there will be many readers who don't find as much to enjoy in this novel, particularly with the ending. For me, despite the questions of realism, I would have been distraught had it ended any other way. In the author's notes, Sohn states that part of the reason she wrote Almond was after asking herself, "If they were my children, could I love them?" After reading that, it is clear to me why I would have been upset had Yunjae and Gon's stories ended differently and why Sohn could not let it end any either way.
This was an absolutely wonderful read for me and I will definitely be hunting down a physical copy so that I can mark up every page!
"You could only hurt that much— hurt enough to turn the whole world into a reflection of your pain and misery and despair — if you had, once, loved."
I had the absolutely unreal honor of being able to read this before publication thanks to NetGalley.
He Who Drowned the World absolutely spits in the face of the idea that a sequel cannot live up to the original. Not only does it absolutely live up to She Who Became the Sun, but it manages to do the oft-unheard of — stick the landing on the ending.
When I first read She Who Became the Sun, I was most struck by how effortlessly and magnificently Parker-Chan managed to entwine queerness with the character's arcs and narratives. While those themes certainly still hold true here, I found I was most struck by the fact that it was no longer queerness that was the driving force of the narrative — it was grief and womanhood. This novel is a journey about ghosts and how your actions and the people in your life will haunt you even if you cannot see them. This novel is an exploration into how having power within an established system can ultimately come to nothing because it is still only power within a cage.
I don't know what I expected to find in this novel because I was so thoroughly blown away by She Who Became the Sun. But it certainly wouldn't have been this wonderful gem filled with hope and despair in equal measure. I cannot wait to purchase a physical copy and read it all over again.
"You broke that cycle for me. Thank you for that. Second to I love you, that's the thing I keep wanting to say. Thank you. Besides I'm sorry."
Without a doubt, this is the single best study in grief that I have ever had the privilege to read. Every time I discuss the importance of choosing the correct POV for a story and why it is critical to its success as a narrative, I will be using this as an example. I am someone who is highly critical of first person POV and oftentimes will turn away from books simply because it is the POV used. But the way that this novel masterfully uses the first person, interweaving elements in such a way that it feels as if it is in second person POV, is breathtaking. I cannot imagine this story written in any other way.
Every bit of strangeness and surrealism bring an impending sense of dread, yet it all pales in comparison to the descriptions of grief. There is no good way to be able to explain how effectively Moreno explored the experience of losing a loved one. This is a book that I only hope people will experience for themselves.
This is a book that has a lot of moving parts. I don't know if I was quite expecting just how many things were being juggled before I started reading, and if I'm being honest, I'm not sure if it really worked for me. This was definitely an entertaining read! The characters were all quite unique and enjoyable. The descriptions of the cultures of the neighborhood were absolutely wonderful. The plot hooks were incredibly compelling and I definitely kept reading so that I could get an answer as to what would happen next. The humor was whimsical and ironic and I found myself smiling quite often while reading it.
And yet, it still felt like it fell a little flat for me.
Part of it, I think, is that there were just too many things happened. By the time you get to the true heart of the novel, it's nearly done. I can't help but think that maybe if it had just been about Shizuka and Katrina or just been about Shizuka and Lan, it would have ended up having a greater impact. While there were certainly moments where the two managed to overlap in a satisfying way, overall it felt as if I were reading two separate novels and neither of which was fleshed out quite as much as I liked.
I think the largest struggle I had while reading this, however, is how the darker themes were handled. There was so much focus on how Katrina experienced transphobia and dysphoria, but these themes always felt just a touch too cartoonish for my taste. There was so much focus on the transphobia, but we got so little of Katrina experiencing joy with her gender. There is also quite a bit of sexual content (Katrina uses sex as currency in an incredibly unhealthy manner that is never addressed) that, to me, always felt like it was dropped in out of nowhere. Some of it is consensual, some of it is very much not, and more of it is questionable at best. Outside of a single scene towards the beginning of the novel, this is never addressed by an adult in Katrina's life. In the last hundred pages, she is assaulted and nothing ever comes of it. It happens and then is never spoken of again. Considering Katrina is a teenager, it was deeply uncomfortable to read in the moment and even more uncomfortable to realize that none of it was going to be addressed. Had these themes been addressed more carefully and actually been discussed, I think that I would have enjoyed this book exponentially more.
I definitely found a lot to enjoy about this book. I likely think this book is targeted more towards a demographic of readers who wanted a more "adult" novel, but tend to read more from the young adult genre. Perhaps it is simply that this book was not for me. But I definitely wish that I had known how much nonconsensual/dubiously consensual sexual content was included in this book, even if the actual acts were never really described. This is definitely a book that the more I think about it, the less fond I find myself thinking of it.