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powerpuffgoat's reviews
73 reviews
The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones
I have to say that I was already a little bit prejudiced about this book because I read this author's preface for a collection of short stories and it came across as disjointed nonsense. I had no idea what he was trying to say, or whether even he knew what he was trying to say. And he was only asked to write a short intro for stories that were not his own!
So when I set off to read his own book I was already cautious, and it's a good job that I was. His writing is actually atrocious. I'm not sure what the editing process looked like for this book or any of his other writing, but once again it reads like ramblings of a madman. It goes on and on in some places, then in other places the narration skips forward before you can figure out what happens.
It seems like all of his characters had the same verbal tics and the same thought processes which again I can only blame on the writing. If you going to be writing a story with multiple points of view you've got to make sure that these points of you can be easily told apart. Instead, the pacing is all over the place and the POVs switch seemingly out of nowhere, sometimes mid-paragraph.
Now, my perspective is obviously limited when it comes to indigenous people of North America, so I understand that there are certain nuances that would be unavailable to me and I don't expect a fiction writer to provide all of the context about what it's like to be an "Indian" in modern day United States. However, it felt like the characters were reduced to constantly dividing everything and everyone to Indian and non-Indian. Everything. Is the perspective of a Native in North America so limited that all they think about is their cultural identity and what degree of indianness their actions, or their partners, or their words are.
Then there's the obsession with basketball, which takes over so much of the book. I don't know if there's a huge culture of playing basketball among Indian populations in the United States or in that particular region even? However there was definitely too much of it for it to be a metaphor, or a good metaphor at least. And this is coming from someone who actually knows a little bit about basketball, someone who's watched basketball and understands basketball terms. Still, I don't see how these painstaking descriptions tied in with the rest of the plots or character development. It made me think that perhaps it was a game that the author himself played growing up, and so he projected that onto everyone in his book, as if it's a universal truth for all indigenous peoples.
This alone is enough to lower the book's rating but we not even close to all of the reasons why I disliked this book. The main for characters are grown men that act like angsty teenagers. They leap to conclusions (maybe that's what the basketball metaphor was about) and then act on their misguided hunches with violence. There was nothing about these men that I found likable or redeemable, or even unique. All four of these men just sounded and appeared the same. So what was the point after all?
The female characters in the book appear to only be accessories to these male characters, like a canvas that they can project that angst or their ambitions or their guilt upon. Like they were objects, existing purely to justify these men's actions. In fact, it felt like the only reason women or dogs were present in the story was to present us with cruelty and violence and gore. In contrast, at least two of the four main male characters die "off screen", with few details provided to the reader.
And to that end, why were these women or dogs even targeted in the first place? I get the premise of the whole vengeful elk spirit. But why is our elk coming for revenge so many years later, and why are the women and dogs on the receiving end of their most brutal violent deeds? Some of the elk's actions don't make sense either. It is presented as a convoluted vengeance plot, a set up to make the main characters suffer. However, it is so far fetched that you couldn't expect it to work.
For instance,with the truck collapsing on a woman (stripped of personality, and mostly referred to as the Crow) when she was under it, triggering a whole slew of events... Like a Rube Goldberg machine. There is no way she could have orchestrated that precise outcome in the way that it happened.
By the time you slog through the terrible writing, and these terrible characters, and the unjustified violence, and all of the bloody basketball, and the verbal tic that everybody seems to possess no matter where they're from, yeah? The book just completely loses its appeal.
slow-paced
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
1.0
I have to say that I was already a little bit prejudiced about this book because I read this author's preface for a collection of short stories and it came across as disjointed nonsense. I had no idea what he was trying to say, or whether even he knew what he was trying to say. And he was only asked to write a short intro for stories that were not his own!
So when I set off to read his own book I was already cautious, and it's a good job that I was. His writing is actually atrocious. I'm not sure what the editing process looked like for this book or any of his other writing, but once again it reads like ramblings of a madman. It goes on and on in some places, then in other places the narration skips forward before you can figure out what happens.
It seems like all of his characters had the same verbal tics and the same thought processes which again I can only blame on the writing. If you going to be writing a story with multiple points of view you've got to make sure that these points of you can be easily told apart. Instead, the pacing is all over the place and the POVs switch seemingly out of nowhere, sometimes mid-paragraph.
Now, my perspective is obviously limited when it comes to indigenous people of North America, so I understand that there are certain nuances that would be unavailable to me and I don't expect a fiction writer to provide all of the context about what it's like to be an "Indian" in modern day United States. However, it felt like the characters were reduced to constantly dividing everything and everyone to Indian and non-Indian. Everything. Is the perspective of a Native in North America so limited that all they think about is their cultural identity and what degree of indianness their actions, or their partners, or their words are.
Then there's the obsession with basketball, which takes over so much of the book. I don't know if there's a huge culture of playing basketball among Indian populations in the United States or in that particular region even? However there was definitely too much of it for it to be a metaphor, or a good metaphor at least. And this is coming from someone who actually knows a little bit about basketball, someone who's watched basketball and understands basketball terms. Still, I don't see how these painstaking descriptions tied in with the rest of the plots or character development. It made me think that perhaps it was a game that the author himself played growing up, and so he projected that onto everyone in his book, as if it's a universal truth for all indigenous peoples.
This alone is enough to lower the book's rating but we not even close to all of the reasons why I disliked this book. The main for characters are grown men that act like angsty teenagers. They leap to conclusions (maybe that's what the basketball metaphor was about) and then act on their misguided hunches with violence. There was nothing about these men that I found likable or redeemable, or even unique. All four of these men just sounded and appeared the same. So what was the point after all?
The female characters in the book appear to only be accessories to these male characters, like a canvas that they can project that angst or their ambitions or their guilt upon. Like they were objects, existing purely to justify these men's actions. In fact, it felt like the only reason women or dogs were present in the story was to present us with cruelty and violence and gore. In contrast, at least two of the four main male characters die "off screen", with few details provided to the reader.
And to that end, why were these women or dogs even targeted in the first place? I get the premise of the whole vengeful elk spirit. But why is our elk coming for revenge so many years later, and why are the women and dogs on the receiving end of their most brutal violent deeds? Some of the elk's actions don't make sense either. It is presented as a convoluted vengeance plot, a set up to make the main characters suffer. However, it is so far fetched that you couldn't expect it to work.
For instance,
By the time you slog through the terrible writing, and these terrible characters, and the unjustified violence, and all of the bloody basketball, and the verbal tic that everybody seems to possess no matter where they're from, yeah? The book just completely loses its appeal.
The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner
1.0
The premise was alright. Cute, even. A heartbroken young woman, whose dreams of being a historian were systematically quashed by her husband, goes to London to get away from his betrayal and discovers a mysterious, old-timey vial while mudlarking. A vile that belonged to an 18th century apothecary who specialised in women's ailments (including cheating or abusive husbands).
But while the concept was interesting, the way the story develops, the way the idea is executed is... Lacking.
I wish the narrative was contained between Caroline and Nella. Chapters from children's POV are my pet peeve, because more often than not, they just aren't very good. Unfortunately, an even bigger issue was that the characters all sound alike, recounting the same events with the same melodramatic tone.
Then there's the magick. I don't know if the author was trying to make the word look more antiquated, but ironically, that spelling wasn't used until 20th century (yes, my petty ass checked). And it wasn't like our home-girl Eliza only used it once or twice. FIFTY SIX TIMES (yes, my petty ass checked). Magick, magick, magick, magick, magick. I wish I had listened to the audiobook instead, because this was a constant source of annoyance for me.
It's not like I expect historical accuracy from a book like that, but there would have to be other qualities to make up for it! I also don't know what possessed the author to set the story in London. Both storylines read like caricatures, with lots of Americanisms thrown in.
The prose is generally repetitive, as if not trusting the reader to remember something that happened earlier. And let's not forget the melodramatic style! It couldn't help but roll my eyes.
Overall, I feel like the book had potential, particularly if it explored Nella's life and the cases she had had her hand in. Or if it leaned into the present-day investigation and made the main character do actual research instead of just happening upon things.
Finally, the picture of womanhood that this book paints is kind of basic. Our characters are driven forth to their reproductive systems. No matter what they do, their mind returns to their uterus. And this is where the repetitive prose also gets annoying. I'm sorry, but reading about a girl's first period isn't my idea of captivating.
But while the concept was interesting, the way the story develops, the way the idea is executed is... Lacking.
I wish the narrative was contained between Caroline and Nella. Chapters from children's POV are my pet peeve, because more often than not, they just aren't very good. Unfortunately, an even bigger issue was that the characters all sound alike, recounting the same events with the same melodramatic tone.
Then there's the magick. I don't know if the author was trying to make the word look more antiquated, but ironically, that spelling wasn't used until 20th century (yes, my petty ass checked). And it wasn't like our home-girl Eliza only used it once or twice. FIFTY SIX TIMES (yes, my petty ass checked). Magick, magick, magick, magick, magick. I wish I had listened to the audiobook instead, because this was a constant source of annoyance for me.
It's not like I expect historical accuracy from a book like that, but there would have to be other qualities to make up for it! I also don't know what possessed the author to set the story in London. Both storylines read like caricatures, with lots of Americanisms thrown in.
The prose is generally repetitive, as if not trusting the reader to remember something that happened earlier. And let's not forget the melodramatic style! It couldn't help but roll my eyes.
Overall, I feel like the book had potential, particularly if it explored Nella's life and the cases she had had her hand in. Or if it leaned into the present-day investigation and made the main character do actual research instead of just happening upon things.
Finally, the picture of womanhood that this book paints is kind of basic. Our characters are driven forth to their reproductive systems. No matter what they do, their mind returns to their uterus. And this is where the repetitive prose also gets annoying. I'm sorry, but reading about a girl's first period isn't my idea of captivating.
The Push by Ashley Audrain
medium-paced
5.0
This book was fascinating, and against all odds, I ended up loving it.
I say "against all odds" because I didn't expect to enjoy it. I stumbled upon it in my audio books, and I couldn't remember how it ended up on my TBR. When the narrative immediately headed towards motherhood, I think I let out an actual sigh because Nightbitch by Rachel Yonder left me with such an ick.
Well, turns out, my inability to relate to motherhood had nothing to do with my dislike for Nightbitch. The Push explores so many different forms of motherhood: different women, different generations, different babies... And it's woven so skillfully together, that throughout the story you get to see the way our parents' behaviour shapes us.
This book explored so many great nuances that were missing from Nightbitch, including post-partum depression, how parenthood isn't always a blessing, how some people shouldn't have kids, how some kids can be nightmares. And most importantly, how often men place expectations on women to perform this idea they have of an idyllic family, ignoring any signs that contradict their picture-perfect world.
The prime example of this is the father of Blythe's children, Fox. The writing is excellent at showing Blythe's desire to please him, her being taken by Fox's charm. Even with everything that happens throughout the book, she still addresses her story to him. Meanwhile, the reader can see how selfish and ignorant he is, how manipulative. How inferior he considers Blythe, or women in general. How he gets away with it, because he works, and because society is so accustomed at directing their judgement at the mothers.
Fox isn't the only one, of course. We see some disturbing behaviour in Blythe's father and grandfather, the police officer, the doctor...
And then there is a question of why we, as women, enable this type of behaviour. Whether we feel that we don't have a choice, whether it's because we are so conditioned to feel guilty all the time.
Honestly, my head is feeling! This book has so many layers, I feel like I could talk about it for hours.
The prose was captivating, and the way the story is told, I genuinely would pause what I'm doing several times. I gasped and exclaimed, "What the fuck?" more than once. Even the ending, although I can see how it would upset some readers, felt fitting. However you look at it, it's a lose-lose situation, the system has always been rigged.
I say "against all odds" because I didn't expect to enjoy it. I stumbled upon it in my audio books, and I couldn't remember how it ended up on my TBR. When the narrative immediately headed towards motherhood, I think I let out an actual sigh because Nightbitch by Rachel Yonder left me with such an ick.
Well, turns out, my inability to relate to motherhood had nothing to do with my dislike for Nightbitch. The Push explores so many different forms of motherhood: different women, different generations, different babies... And it's woven so skillfully together, that throughout the story you get to see the way our parents' behaviour shapes us.
This book explored so many great nuances that were missing from Nightbitch, including post-partum depression, how parenthood isn't always a blessing, how some people shouldn't have kids, how some kids can be nightmares. And most importantly, how often men place expectations on women to perform this idea they have of an idyllic family, ignoring any signs that contradict their picture-perfect world.
The prime example of this is the father of Blythe's children, Fox. The writing is excellent at showing Blythe's desire to please him, her being taken by Fox's charm. Even with everything that happens throughout the book, she still addresses her story to him. Meanwhile, the reader can see how selfish and ignorant he is, how manipulative. How inferior he considers Blythe, or women in general. How he gets away with it, because he works, and because society is so accustomed at directing their judgement at the mothers.
Fox isn't the only one, of course. We see some disturbing behaviour in Blythe's father and grandfather, the police officer, the doctor...
And then there is a question of why we, as women, enable this type of behaviour. Whether we feel that we don't have a choice, whether it's because we are so conditioned to feel guilty all the time.
Honestly, my head is feeling! This book has so many layers, I feel like I could talk about it for hours.
The prose was captivating, and the way the story is told, I genuinely would pause what I'm doing several times. I gasped and exclaimed, "What the fuck?" more than once. Even the ending, although I can see how it would upset some readers, felt fitting. However you look at it, it's a lose-lose situation, the system has always been rigged.
The Client by John Grisham
2.0
I saw the film when I was a kid, so I figured I would give this book a go.
It started off quite well. The book didn't waste any time, and every character we met was only introduced as they were about to become part of the plot.
Unfortunately, after the initial third of the book, it slowed down and lost a lot of it's charm.
For a book that is thicker than your average thriller, it has a lot, and I mean A LOT of redundant dialogue. You have the same conversations happen once, twice, three times, four times. You have the author describing someone's thoughts, only for them to voice them, almost verbatim, a page later. You have various characters speak about the same events using the same phrasing. You have interactions that could have been summarised in one sentence.
It feels as if the author was so keen on dialogue that he forgot about moving the plot forward. And yeah, I get it. In real life, we do have the same conversations over and over. We do have different people discussing the same event. But as a reader, it's not exciting.
Also, the name Reggie isn't even that unusual! Every bloody character marvels that a woman formerly known as Regina goes by Reggie... I can't help but think that it's the author projecting his weird hang up on multiple characters. Or maybe he thought he was being innovative and edgy, I don't know.
The other downside of reading all this dialogue is how much the characters all have the same voice. And there is a whole lot of characters, too! But you're telling me, that gang members from New Orleans, speak in the same PG-13 way as a black judge from Memphis and a poor child who lives his whole life in a trailer park?
The other side effect is that the narrative is very linear. We learn of things as they happen, we then hear about these events again as someone recounts them. There isn't a single reveal along the way. Perhaps it was a different era of writing, where the suspense was built on what might happen. Except the suspense is killed by endless discussion of what ifs.
On top of that, the dialogue isn't well-written. It's not sharp. It's not profound. It's just very mediocre.
It started off quite well. The book didn't waste any time, and every character we met was only introduced as they were about to become part of the plot.
Unfortunately, after the initial third of the book, it slowed down and lost a lot of it's charm.
For a book that is thicker than your average thriller, it has a lot, and I mean A LOT of redundant dialogue. You have the same conversations happen once, twice, three times, four times. You have the author describing someone's thoughts, only for them to voice them, almost verbatim, a page later. You have various characters speak about the same events using the same phrasing. You have interactions that could have been summarised in one sentence.
It feels as if the author was so keen on dialogue that he forgot about moving the plot forward. And yeah, I get it. In real life, we do have the same conversations over and over. We do have different people discussing the same event. But as a reader, it's not exciting.
Also, the name Reggie isn't even that unusual! Every bloody character marvels that a woman formerly known as Regina goes by Reggie... I can't help but think that it's the author projecting his weird hang up on multiple characters. Or maybe he thought he was being innovative and edgy, I don't know.
The other downside of reading all this dialogue is how much the characters all have the same voice. And there is a whole lot of characters, too! But you're telling me, that gang members from New Orleans, speak in the same PG-13 way as a black judge from Memphis and a poor child who lives his whole life in a trailer park?
The other side effect is that the narrative is very linear. We learn of things as they happen, we then hear about these events again as someone recounts them. There isn't a single reveal along the way. Perhaps it was a different era of writing, where the suspense was built on what might happen. Except the suspense is killed by endless discussion of what ifs.
On top of that, the dialogue isn't well-written. It's not sharp. It's not profound. It's just very mediocre.
The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher
5.0
Reality has no sense of dramatic timing
Loved it. From the very beginning, the book just pulled me in.
Great initial setting (a spooky regional museum of oddities) and a set of characters you want to root for. The characters, in particular, were a selling point. Uncle Earl's kind and wondering spirit was outlined from the very beginning. But also, both Simon and Kara felt quintessentially millennial, people in their 30s who are sort of stuck working at a family business in a small town after their other attempts at adulting didn't work out. Naturally, they use humour as a defense mechanism a lot throughout the book, another trait common in our generation.
I loved seeing these characters care about each other so candidly and without a hidden agenda, even a side character who is kind enough to bring coffee to Kara from time to time. It just goes to show that you really don't need to shove romance or physical attraction into the plot to connect the characters.
The mystery part of the book was my kind of mystery. I love a spooky crawl space that doesn't make sense. I loved that the author, the main character, and I shared the same references, too. I loved that this book leaned into it. Let's face it, if we were suddenly trapped in an alternate world, we would try to relate to it through books and films we had seen.
And who was I to argue with the dead woman in my friend's head?
In addition to the Narnia and From A Buick 8, this book reminded me of Annihilation and House of Leaves. There is a distinct sense of otherness, a world so alien that you can't trust that the water is actually water. The entities that exist in empty spaces, in the corner of your eye. The strange sounds, the body horror. Arguably, book is the best medium for this type of horror.
I also loved that the author openly referenced these other books but at the same time, didn't try to make it too meta. Some genre-awareness in a character is good. Too much, and it becomes a farce.
Loved it. From the very beginning, the book just pulled me in.
Great initial setting (a spooky regional museum of oddities) and a set of characters you want to root for. The characters, in particular, were a selling point. Uncle Earl's kind and wondering spirit was outlined from the very beginning. But also, both Simon and Kara felt quintessentially millennial, people in their 30s who are sort of stuck working at a family business in a small town after their other attempts at adulting didn't work out. Naturally, they use humour as a defense mechanism a lot throughout the book, another trait common in our generation.
I loved seeing these characters care about each other so candidly and without a hidden agenda, even a side character who is kind enough to bring coffee to Kara from time to time. It just goes to show that you really don't need to shove romance or physical attraction into the plot to connect the characters.
The mystery part of the book was my kind of mystery. I love a spooky crawl space that doesn't make sense. I loved that the author, the main character, and I shared the same references, too. I loved that this book leaned into it. Let's face it, if we were suddenly trapped in an alternate world, we would try to relate to it through books and films we had seen.
And who was I to argue with the dead woman in my friend's head?
In addition to the Narnia and From A Buick 8, this book reminded me of Annihilation and House of Leaves. There is a distinct sense of otherness, a world so alien that you can't trust that the water is actually water. The entities that exist in empty spaces, in the corner of your eye. The strange sounds, the body horror. Arguably, book is the best medium for this type of horror.
I also loved that the author openly referenced these other books but at the same time, didn't try to make it too meta. Some genre-awareness in a character is good. Too much, and it becomes a farce.
House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland
mysterious
sad
5.0
I'm surprised at how much I enjoyed the experience that this book presented. After the initial premise, when we learn that Grey and Vivi had left home, I was afraid that I'll be stuck with the teenage drama. Thankfully, this book went in a different direction.
I loved the pacing of the story, the way it progressed in ways I did not necessarily expect. I loved the mystical elements that didn't try to overexplain themselves. I loved the heavy focus on scents - quite rare in literature, despite our sens eof amell having such a great impact on our experiences and memories.
I was also pleased that for all of the descriptions of etherial beauty, the writing wasn't very sexual. Maybe it's my ripe old age, but I can't help but cringe when books with a young protagonist focus on physical attraction or infatuation based on (usually) nothing. Although Iris has a crush on Tyler, it seems to be fueled by the trauma they share, and in a refreshing turn of events, it doesn't develop into a relationship.
My favourite parts of the book were the descriptions of the family dynamics. The way the relationship between Gabe and Cate was filled with warmth. The way the Hollow sisters were so intensely bonded with each other, and yet dealing with a power imbalance. The way Cate had a different relationship with each of the sisters. Mystical elements aside, it rang incredibly true.
I loved the pacing of the story, the way it progressed in ways I did not necessarily expect. I loved the mystical elements that didn't try to overexplain themselves. I loved the heavy focus on scents - quite rare in literature, despite our sens eof amell having such a great impact on our experiences and memories.
I was also pleased that for all of the descriptions of etherial beauty, the writing wasn't very sexual. Maybe it's my ripe old age, but I can't help but cringe when books with a young protagonist focus on physical attraction or infatuation based on (usually) nothing. Although Iris has a crush on Tyler, it seems to be fueled by the trauma they share, and in a refreshing turn of events, it doesn't develop into a relationship.
My favourite parts of the book were the descriptions of the family dynamics. The way the relationship between Gabe and Cate was filled with warmth. The way the Hollow sisters were so intensely bonded with each other, and yet dealing with a power imbalance. The way Cate had a different relationship with each of the sisters. Mystical elements aside, it rang incredibly true.
Carnality: A Novel by Lina Wolff
slow-paced
1.0
What a load of drivel.
This book made its way to my TBR because I've seen readers recommend it to Black Mirror fans.
At first, I was intrigued. Mercuro's story sets an interesting scene. I thought that this was going to be a way to expose his awful, narcissistic views of women and complete unwillingness to take accountability. I assumed the author knew what she was doing because Mercuro was so clearly using phrases donned by abusers and women haters yet playing the victim at the same time.
Instead, what follows is a sequence of events so incredibly stupid, my face was tired of rolling my eyes and cringing. In addition to letting a paranoid stranger stay at her apartment, our Swedish writer (self-insert much?) agrees to go on holiday with Mercuro, at which point both of their actions are entirely for the plot. It feels like bad improv, like the prompts were pulled out of a hat at random, and the characters did things just because.
What was up with the elderly couple? Why is the writer so obsessed with describing people's bodies, and frankly, expressing such contempt for body hair or body fat? I know it's the author because this comes from every character. It might have been understandable from Mercuro, but why is an old nun mentioning how crusty someone's underwear was in a letter? The way everyone doses off multiple times per day, in public places... How do multiple characters share this trait?
Sor Lucia's narration is also bizzare because of the format. I don't mind monologues, and in fact, Mercuro's monologue at least fit the situation. But choosing letters as a narrative form, the author made a strange choice. Several times, Lucia mentions how much she hopes her letter would not bore the recipient, and yet she waffles on and on.
If it at least all tied into a story, I might not be as annoyed. But there is no cohesiveness, it just feels indulgent on the author's part.
The nun, who mentions her dainty size at every chance, is apparently able to break a human neck in one swift motion, too. Just because.
I have to admit that the girl had risen in my estimation. Her forthright speech, her eloquent vocabulary, and the clarity with which she uttered those words.
I couldn't help but laugh at the pretentiousness. The passage above was in reference to Lucia meeting Ada, who introduced herself, expressed the desire to be called Miss Pink, and confirmed that she believed to be carrying a holy child. So eloquent!
Additionally, there was an aesthetic decision made to change the colour of the first letter of every new paragraph. Except they missed some and that annoyed me on top of everything else.
This book made its way to my TBR because I've seen readers recommend it to Black Mirror fans.
At first, I was intrigued. Mercuro's story sets an interesting scene. I thought that this was going to be a way to expose his awful, narcissistic views of women and complete unwillingness to take accountability. I assumed the author knew what she was doing because Mercuro was so clearly using phrases donned by abusers and women haters yet playing the victim at the same time.
Instead, what follows is a sequence of events so incredibly stupid, my face was tired of rolling my eyes and cringing. In addition to letting a paranoid stranger stay at her apartment, our Swedish writer (self-insert much?) agrees to go on holiday with Mercuro, at which point both of their actions are entirely for the plot. It feels like bad improv, like the prompts were pulled out of a hat at random, and the characters did things just because.
What was up with the elderly couple? Why is the writer so obsessed with describing people's bodies, and frankly, expressing such contempt for body hair or body fat? I know it's the author because this comes from every character. It might have been understandable from Mercuro, but why is an old nun mentioning how crusty someone's underwear was in a letter? The way everyone doses off multiple times per day, in public places... How do multiple characters share this trait?
Sor Lucia's narration is also bizzare because of the format. I don't mind monologues, and in fact, Mercuro's monologue at least fit the situation. But choosing letters as a narrative form, the author made a strange choice. Several times, Lucia mentions how much she hopes her letter would not bore the recipient, and yet she waffles on and on.
If it at least all tied into a story, I might not be as annoyed. But there is no cohesiveness, it just feels indulgent on the author's part.
The nun, who mentions her dainty size at every chance, is apparently able to break a human neck in one swift motion, too. Just because.
I have to admit that the girl had risen in my estimation. Her forthright speech, her eloquent vocabulary, and the clarity with which she uttered those words.
I couldn't help but laugh at the pretentiousness. The passage above was in reference to Lucia meeting Ada, who introduced herself, expressed the desire to be called Miss Pink, and confirmed that she believed to be carrying a holy child. So eloquent!
Additionally, there was an aesthetic decision made to change the colour of the first letter of every new paragraph. Except they missed some and that annoyed me on top of everything else.
Foe by Iain Reid
4.0
I've given it some time since I finished the book, and I am still not sure how I feel about it.
The reading experience was good, I was definitely enthralled in the narrative and curious about the nature of bizarre things that were happening.
However, it also left me confused. Either the author made some questionable decisions when designing the plot, or I have missed something crucial.
Mainly, I don't understand why they did a whole charade. Why did they tell the replica that he was going on a mission? They could have just let him believe he is living his life and turned him off when the real Junior comes back.
Perhaps there is a plan to expand that universe, and I read a few theories other readers have come up with in regards to the world where this story takes place.
Overall, I enjoyed the writing but it left me lost at the end.
The reading experience was good, I was definitely enthralled in the narrative and curious about the nature of bizarre things that were happening.
However, it also left me confused. Either the author made some questionable decisions when designing the plot, or I have missed something crucial.
Perhaps there is a plan to expand that universe, and I read a few theories other readers have come up with in regards to the world where this story takes place.
Overall, I enjoyed the writing but it left me lost at the end.
The Dead and the Dark by Courtney Gould
3.75
This could easily be a Supernatural episode. A coming-of-age, uncovering the family secret kind of episode.
The weakest point for me was probably having teenagers as main characters, but that's more to do with the fact that I'm an adult and have moved on from high school fiction.
The story itself was good though.
The weakest point for me was probably having teenagers as main characters, but that's more to do with the fact that I'm an adult and have moved on from high school fiction.
The story itself was good though.
Every Last Fear by Alex Finlay
1.0
What can I say. It wasn't the worst book I've ever read but it wasn't good. Filled with clichés, too many POVs and implausibilities, it really wasn't very entertaining.
The story itself wasn't too bad, but to be honest, very little happened. We're told about the same events from multiple points of view, along with complete fluff.
Instead of the investigation of the initial crime, we are literally given a play-by-play of what happened, from the POV of the victims. No tension, no finesse. We know they died already. And no new information, because the agent on the case and the family member left behind are easily uncovering it all.
The writing wasn't good either. There was a lot of boomer humour, jokes that the author clearly heard somewhere and loved so much that he probably still chuckled to himself and he hamfisted them into the narrative. Several things were repeated, too, cause he must have been so pleased with himself for "analysis paralysis" and "BSD (big swinging dick)". The author might even believe that he came up with these himself, as well as that silly vegan joke.
It's not the jokes either. He inserted a quote from a book into the narrative, and referred back to it AGAIN later in the book.
The way he described technology, it was as if he was giving a presentation at a retirement home. Why wouldn't a 17-year-old high school student not know what deepfake is?
Conveniently, the teenage girl also doesn't know any famous people except for Ruth Bader Ginsburg and a 20-year-old running a bar still had music from 30 years ago.
Oh, and of course, the Mexican characters spoke good English but couldn't help but say "Sí" instead of "yes". Just so we remember they are Mexican but presumably the author only knows like three words in Spanish. Let's not forget that they're all grouped together as "the Mexicans" and are shown to be rude, opportunistic, and generally seedy. Like... Why?
So lazy and boring and racist.
The story itself wasn't too bad, but to be honest, very little happened. We're told about the same events from multiple points of view, along with complete fluff.
Instead of the investigation of the initial crime, we are literally given a play-by-play of what happened, from the POV of the victims. No tension, no finesse. We know they died already. And no new information, because the agent on the case and the family member left behind are easily uncovering it all.
The writing wasn't good either. There was a lot of boomer humour, jokes that the author clearly heard somewhere and loved so much that he probably still chuckled to himself and he hamfisted them into the narrative. Several things were repeated, too, cause he must have been so pleased with himself for "analysis paralysis" and "BSD (big swinging dick)". The author might even believe that he came up with these himself, as well as that silly vegan joke.
It's not the jokes either. He inserted a quote from a book into the narrative, and referred back to it AGAIN later in the book.
The way he described technology, it was as if he was giving a presentation at a retirement home. Why wouldn't a 17-year-old high school student not know what deepfake is?
Conveniently, the teenage girl also doesn't know any famous people except for Ruth Bader Ginsburg and a 20-year-old running a bar still had music from 30 years ago.
Oh, and of course, the Mexican characters spoke good English but couldn't help but say "Sí" instead of "yes". Just so we remember they are Mexican but presumably the author only knows like three words in Spanish. Let's not forget that they're all grouped together as "the Mexicans" and are shown to be rude, opportunistic, and generally seedy. Like... Why?
So lazy and boring and racist.