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thepurplebookwyrm's reviews
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Chouette by Claire Oshetsky
challenging
dark
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.25
Base premise:
A cellist named Tiny becomes pregnant with an... owl-baby she believes issued from her union with a wild (female) owl-lover and, well, tries to deal with that, her (heterosexual) marriage, and her very strange perception of reality (to put it mildly).
Thoughts:
Chouette was... weird. But not my kind of weird. The prose was good enough, so I'll dispense with that and go straight to the crux of the matter: the novella's theming. Chouette's main theme is, to put it simply, that of motherhood. And its story works as one giant, "magically realistic" metaphor for the trials and tribulations of motherhood... and being a mother to an, ahem, unusual child – in this case a literal (or is it?) owl-baby.
And it's not like the theming is garbage: it isn't. In fact, there are decent kernels of insight here, about the complicated thoughts and emotions tied to the experience of motherhood, and I can acknowledge that despite the fact I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in ever being pregnant, or a mother. But there are also several issues with its execution.
1) The book's theming centres on the experience of motherhood, sure, but it also tries (and largely fails) to focus in on a couple of secondary strands, such as the strain parenthood places on heterosexual marriages, the challenge an unusual child presents to parenting. But also the way 'difference' is judge by society more broadly... and the experience of pre- and post-partum psychosis, maybe? I'll come back to that.
2) And it just doesn't work. Because the character work isn't really there to prop a large part of that additional theming, and because the plot is shackled to the metaphorical/magical realism nature of its premise. With regards to the former: there isn't much character work to speak of, outside of the narrator's, and even then it's hard to get a solid grasp of who she is, given the trippy framing of her story. With regards to the latter:
3) It's hard to empathise with Tiny's position, and that of her child, when said child isn't even human in any meaningful sense of the word – at least, that's what you're led to believe as the reader, I guess? Some of the child's traits could be interpreted as a metaphorical representation of high support needs autism, sensory processing disorder, etc... which is fine, but the kid also fucking eviscerates small animals, including neighbourhood pets, and almost disembowels a pregnant woman. Because she's an owl -baby: an 'apex predator'. Given that, it's entirely reasonable to take the dad's side in the matter and call Tiny out in her bullshit for enabling deeply dysfunctional and violent behaviour – not to say mildly sociopathic. It's certainly not acceptable behaviour for a human being, at any rate – though honestly, I'd argue it also paints a reductive portrait of owls, but that's a separate issue.
4) You can choose to view this novella through the lens of magical realism, the lens of deep psychosis (and a delusional understanding of one's own childhood?), or perhaps both. Either way, the 'owl-babiness' of it all certainly, firmly functions as a metaphor... and Tiny can honestly be read as very mentally ill even if you choose to believe her child literally is a, uhm, "were-owl". This then breaks the quality of the story's theming on motherhood, because it doesn't so much present the experience of motherhood as it does an experience of motherhood. And a particularly challenging one at that. Tiny needs medical help, and her marriage isn't properly fulfilling or even all that supportive. So it's kind of obvious, in a way, that hers would be such a horrible experience. And that hers would be a really warped understanding of unconditional maternal love. Because even my childfree arse knows unquestioningly enabling all of your child's dysfunctional behaviours isn't at all a mature or healthy way to love and nurture them. I could also add that as a (former) disabled and neurodivergent child, Chouette and her dark triad behaviour acting as metaphorical stand-ins for those things felt a smidge unpalatable at times, but I'm also not actually all that fussed about it so it's like whatever.
It all comes down to the fact that, for me, Chouette is over-committed to, and thus severely hampered by, its central, metaphorical quality. The story sticks way too much to the guns of Tiny's therianthropic daughter – whether real or hallucinated makes no real difference, functionally – and nixes the subtlety, or nuance its theming requires in the process.
Then of course the plot takes a turn for the wildly trippier (and more violent) towards its end, and I duly rolled my eyes at it. This novella/short novel has essentially confirmed the nebulous, 'in-between' genre of magical realism (or magical science-fiction, metaphorical fiction, whatever you want to call it) just isn't meant for me. As a general rule at any rate. I will thus avoid titles belonging to it entirely going forward, unless it comes highly recommended from a trusted source.
A cellist named Tiny becomes pregnant with an... owl-baby she believes issued from her union with a wild (female) owl-lover and, well, tries to deal with that, her (heterosexual) marriage, and her very strange perception of reality (to put it mildly).
Thoughts:
Chouette was... weird. But not my kind of weird. The prose was good enough, so I'll dispense with that and go straight to the crux of the matter: the novella's theming. Chouette's main theme is, to put it simply, that of motherhood. And its story works as one giant, "magically realistic" metaphor for the trials and tribulations of motherhood... and being a mother to an, ahem, unusual child – in this case a literal (or is it?) owl-baby.
And it's not like the theming is garbage: it isn't. In fact, there are decent kernels of insight here, about the complicated thoughts and emotions tied to the experience of motherhood, and I can acknowledge that despite the fact I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in ever being pregnant, or a mother. But there are also several issues with its execution.
1) The book's theming centres on the experience of motherhood, sure, but it also tries (and largely fails) to focus in on a couple of secondary strands, such as the strain parenthood places on heterosexual marriages, the challenge an unusual child presents to parenting. But also the way 'difference' is judge by society more broadly... and the experience of pre- and post-partum psychosis, maybe? I'll come back to that.
2) And it just doesn't work. Because the character work isn't really there to prop a large part of that additional theming, and because the plot is shackled to the metaphorical/magical realism nature of its premise. With regards to the former: there isn't much character work to speak of, outside of the narrator's, and even then it's hard to get a solid grasp of who she is, given the trippy framing of her story. With regards to the latter:
3) It's hard to empathise with Tiny's position, and that of her child, when said child isn't even human in any meaningful sense of the word – at least, that's what you're led to believe as the reader, I guess? Some of the child's traits could be interpreted as a metaphorical representation of high support needs autism, sensory processing disorder, etc... which is fine, but the kid also fucking eviscerates small animals, including neighbourhood pets, and almost disembowels a pregnant woman. Because she's an owl -baby: an 'apex predator'. Given that, it's entirely reasonable to take the dad's side in the matter and call Tiny out in her bullshit for enabling deeply dysfunctional and violent behaviour – not to say mildly sociopathic. It's certainly not acceptable behaviour for a human being, at any rate – though honestly, I'd argue it also paints a reductive portrait of owls, but that's a separate issue.
4) You can choose to view this novella through the lens of magical realism, the lens of deep psychosis (and a delusional understanding of one's own childhood?), or perhaps both. Either way, the 'owl-babiness' of it all certainly, firmly functions as a metaphor... and Tiny can honestly be read as very mentally ill even if you choose to believe her child literally is a, uhm, "were-owl". This then breaks the quality of the story's theming on motherhood, because it doesn't so much present the experience of motherhood as it does an experience of motherhood. And a particularly challenging one at that. Tiny needs medical help, and her marriage isn't properly fulfilling or even all that supportive. So it's kind of obvious, in a way, that hers would be such a horrible experience. And that hers would be a really warped understanding of unconditional maternal love. Because even my childfree arse knows unquestioningly enabling all of your child's dysfunctional behaviours isn't at all a mature or healthy way to love and nurture them. I could also add that as a (former) disabled and neurodivergent child, Chouette and her dark triad behaviour acting as metaphorical stand-ins for those things felt a smidge unpalatable at times, but I'm also not actually all that fussed about it so it's like whatever.
It all comes down to the fact that, for me, Chouette is over-committed to, and thus severely hampered by, its central, metaphorical quality. The story sticks way too much to the guns of Tiny's therianthropic daughter – whether real or hallucinated makes no real difference, functionally – and nixes the subtlety, or nuance its theming requires in the process.
Then of course the plot takes a turn for the wildly trippier (and more violent) towards its end, and I duly rolled my eyes at it. This novella/short novel has essentially confirmed the nebulous, 'in-between' genre of magical realism (or magical science-fiction, metaphorical fiction, whatever you want to call it) just isn't meant for me. As a general rule at any rate. I will thus avoid titles belonging to it entirely going forward, unless it comes highly recommended from a trusted source.
The Wise Man's Fear by Patrick Rothfuss
adventurous
challenging
emotional
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
sad
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
More accurate rating: 7.5-8/10 for the novel, but a very solid 8/10 – with the potential to morph into an 8.5/10 – for the Chronicles as a whole... and, yes, even though it is an unfinished work. ASOIAF gets a 10/10 from me as an all-time top-tier favourite and it's unfinished as well. Big welp. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
All of the positives I listed in my review of The Name of the Wind apply to The Wise Man's Fear. All I'll add is that...
Spoiler-free version:
I really enjoyed getting additional tidbits of world-building in book two. Those and the sustained quality of the story's character work kept me engaged in a way I hadn't been in a while, which is a delightful feeling!
Spoiler-full version:
I really got a kick out of Kvothe's journey to the Faen Realm, and the tantalising glimpse I was given of his world's 'pseudo-cosmogonical', or simply deeper lore – though now I want more, heh. The whole "fae sex" thing was... just about well-handled for me, especially given what I know of real-world faerie folklore. However... I don't actually buy for a single second that Kvothe was all that good in bed as a 16 year-old virgin, lmao. Felurian undoubtedly enjoyed his youth, vigour, and "manling" spice, but that's it. Also... does anyone else feel she borderline... raped him? It kinda counts as sexual assault in my book, but I suppose given she is of the Fae... it can be said to lie in a grayish sort of area.
I also found the Adem civilisation absolutely fascinating: matrifocal, but also highly xenophobic and ignorant of the particulars of procreation in a way only... much less technologically advanced peoples have been known to be in our world. I'm not entirely sure all of the 'culture-building' elements here made perfect sense, from an 'internal logic' point of view. To whit: sex is considered intimate, yet you can still have it with pretty much anyone, but music is a thing you only share with the closest of your loved ones because of the visceral emotion it conveys...? 🤔 Hmmm. But I'll admit I'm just nit-picky like that and, overall, I still got a lot of enjoyment out of Kvothe's time in Ademre.
Of course I want a continuation of (and eventual conclusion to) this story, though... luckily for me, perhaps, I don't feel as ravenous for it as I am for The Winds of Winter. ASOIAF remains my first love in the realm of (post-Tolkienian) 'high fantasy', but The Kingkiller Chronicles might just become my second. And I think both are worth checking out, despite their unfinished statuses. It still majorly sucks though, we're all agreed there! 😅😆
PS: that being said, don't be the kind of arsehole who harasses authors for not finishing their series. Actually: don't harass authors, period!
All of the positives I listed in my review of The Name of the Wind apply to The Wise Man's Fear. All I'll add is that...
Spoiler-free version:
I really enjoyed getting additional tidbits of world-building in book two. Those and the sustained quality of the story's character work kept me engaged in a way I hadn't been in a while, which is a delightful feeling!
Spoiler-full version:
I also found the Adem civilisation absolutely fascinating: matrifocal, but also highly xenophobic and ignorant of the particulars of procreation in a way only... much less technologically advanced peoples have been known to be in our world. I'm not entirely sure all of the 'culture-building' elements here made perfect sense, from an 'internal logic' point of view. To whit: sex is considered intimate, yet you can still have it with pretty much anyone, but music is a thing you only share with the closest of your loved ones because of the visceral emotion it conveys...? 🤔 Hmmm. But I'll admit I'm just nit-picky like that and, overall, I still got a lot of enjoyment out of Kvothe's time in Ademre.
Of course I want a continuation of (and eventual conclusion to) this story, though... luckily for me, perhaps, I don't feel as ravenous for it as I am for The Winds of Winter. ASOIAF remains my first love in the realm of (post-Tolkienian) 'high fantasy', but The Kingkiller Chronicles might just become my second. And I think both are worth checking out, despite their unfinished statuses. It still majorly sucks though, we're all agreed there! 😅😆
PS: that being said, don't be the kind of arsehole who harasses authors for not finishing their series. Actually: don't harass authors, period!
Her Unbound Hallux by Haldane B. Doyle, Haldane B. Doyle
adventurous
funny
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
3.0
Full video review for Our Vitreous Womb: https://youtu.be/31eaBSEqosE.
The Slow Regard of Silent Things by Patrick Rothfuss
inspiring
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.75
*This one feels special to me, beyond its numerical rating.
I dedicate this review to my friend Paromita. 💙
The Slow Regard of Silent Things isn't a story in the "traditional" sense. It is more... a vignette, a record of Auri's daily life in the Underthing, that allows the reader to look and feel deeper into Auri's mind, heart, spirit.
Hers is a broken, or at the very least damaged spirit. One can sense there are deep wells of pain and darkness inside her, and that they have pushed Auri beyond the threshold of her mind's door into the refuge of derealisation and (so to speak) 'magical thinking'. One could also read her as suffering from OCD, or as being somewhat neurodivergent-coded...
But, for once – and regardless of what I actually think – I don't feel a particularly strong need to place a label on her difference . It just is. She just is: sweet, curious, earnest, resourceful, creative, sensitive, vulnerable... and something scant, skint, and scintillant inside me resonated with that. Auri feels like a younger, and/or more actively derealised, lost amidst the howling winds of her wounded mind... version of myself, in a way. A version of myself, a hypothetical 'sister-self'... I feel deeply compassionate towards.
This story, such as it is, isn't quite a new all-time favourite, but I have a (warm) feeling it will remain very special to me. 💜
PS: but seriously doe if someone hurts Auri I. WILL. CUT. A. BITCH. 😌
I dedicate this review to my friend Paromita. 💙
The Slow Regard of Silent Things isn't a story in the "traditional" sense. It is more... a vignette, a record of Auri's daily life in the Underthing, that allows the reader to look and feel deeper into Auri's mind, heart, spirit.
Hers is a broken, or at the very least damaged spirit. One can sense there are deep wells of pain and darkness inside her, and that they have pushed Auri beyond the threshold of her mind's door into the refuge of derealisation and (so to speak) 'magical thinking'. One could also read her as suffering from OCD, or as being somewhat neurodivergent-coded...
But, for once – and regardless of what I actually think – I don't feel a particularly strong need to place a label on her difference . It just is. She just is: sweet, curious, earnest, resourceful, creative, sensitive, vulnerable... and something scant, skint, and scintillant inside me resonated with that. Auri feels like a younger, and/or more actively derealised, lost amidst the howling winds of her wounded mind... version of myself, in a way. A version of myself, a hypothetical 'sister-self'... I feel deeply compassionate towards.
This story, such as it is, isn't quite a new all-time favourite, but I have a (warm) feeling it will remain very special to me. 💜
PS: but seriously doe if someone hurts Auri I. WILL. CUT. A. BITCH. 😌
The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss
adventurous
emotional
funny
hopeful
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.75
Listened to on audiobook.
If Neverwhere recently sharpened my awareness of the fact I now deeply enjoy dark and urban – or more generally smaller-scale – fantasy... The Name of the Wind has now rekindled my love of high(her)/epic fantasy. Though it's also true The Kingkiller Chronicles, as a story, does "high fantasy" its own way, and arguably doesn't qualify for the subgenre in its strictest sense. It counts, for me, as high fantasy by virtue of the scale, and implied depth, of its world-building... but it is otherwise an intimate, character-centred story, told as a kind of memoir.
Now, I'm not a character-driven reader when it comes to SFF, so character-centred stories can be very hit or miss for me. But I'm happy to say this one really works/ed for me! 🙂 Something about it... just feels really cozy to me. Enchanting and engaging as well. I felt fully immersed in the world of Temerant, in a way I didn't think I would experience again for a long while with this kind of fantasy. Farseer also works as a kind of memoir, and qualifies as high fantasy, but whilst I enjoyed it well enough... I can't say it gripped my spirit like The Kingkiller Chronicles currently are.
More specific thoughts:
I really enjoy Mr Rothfuss' prose. Its colour, texture and, more specifically, the skill displayed when it comes to describing a musician's love for music. Or, more generally, the way this tale delves into the very nature of storytelling – biographical or otherwise. This transcends prose and crosses over into theming, of course, but I still wanted to point it out.
I really like the story's "double-layered" magic system, which you gradually become acquainted with through the "Magic University" part of the tale. Science, empiricism, etc... all have a solid presence in this world, and some of that informs Sympathy – with Sygaldry – the first of Temerant's magic systems. But then, there is also Naming... a more magical, or spiritual magic system. And there's a really nice synergy between the two.
I also really enjoy the story's moral tonal signature: KKC feels realistic, but not too grittily so. There is human warmth in this world: kindness, and human compassion, are often rewarded in a way that feels plausible, given the vagaries of human nature. I adore ASOIAF, and I don't actually think it's 'grimdark' or completely devoid of characters that display human goodness. But its darkness does feel a tad relentless at times. I adore the Legendarium, and it does features morally tainted characters (perhaps more so in The Silmarillion than in The Lord of the Rings proper), but its presentation of human morality remains too simplistically dualistic, overall, for my taste. The Kingkiller Chronicles, however, stand somewhere in the middle, and that feels delightfully refreshing.
The narrative additionally displays an understanding of, and gentleness towards: trauma, mental pain and, implicitly – maybe – mental illness and/or disability I found deeply resonating and soothing. Auri's an obvious example of this, but I think Denna and Kvothe also count. As does that shelter for disabled kids Kvothe frequents in Tarbean... 🥲
Speaking of Auri, Denna, Kvothe... I really like Mr Rothfuss' characters. Kvothe feels like a high fantasy, less clinically depressed, and perhaps a tad more earnest/innocent version of The Magicians' Quentin Coldwater. It's also really nice to have a "kind-of-but-not-really Chosen One" who only really counts as a 'Chosen One' because of his intellectual giftedness and love of learning. Denna just... feels real, and partially relatable to me as a 'survivor' with trust issues. Auri... is the most precious bean and if anyone hurts her I WILL CUT THEM. 🙂 And yeah: we have whacky professors, genuine friends, a sassy fae lad (Bast)... and it all just works for me.
Once again, it is mildly surprising this all worked so well for me, because whilst I'm curious about the world's deeper lore – its cosmogony and supernatural beings especially – I'm not desperate for it either. I'll happily learn more if and when it happens, but until then... I feel satisfied with what I have been given* (the same kinda goes, to a lesser extent, for broader theming).
I'm simply glad The Name of the Wind more than met the expectations I did my damnedest to manage going into it, and just about managed to score a four stars rating out of me. Yay! 😌
*I mean... there's a chapter with a freaking. Stoned. Dragon (kind of) in this bish! A dragon! High as a freaking kite! Come on! That's amazing! 😆
If Neverwhere recently sharpened my awareness of the fact I now deeply enjoy dark and urban – or more generally smaller-scale – fantasy... The Name of the Wind has now rekindled my love of high(her)/epic fantasy. Though it's also true The Kingkiller Chronicles, as a story, does "high fantasy" its own way, and arguably doesn't qualify for the subgenre in its strictest sense. It counts, for me, as high fantasy by virtue of the scale, and implied depth, of its world-building... but it is otherwise an intimate, character-centred story, told as a kind of memoir.
Now, I'm not a character-driven reader when it comes to SFF, so character-centred stories can be very hit or miss for me. But I'm happy to say this one really works/ed for me! 🙂 Something about it... just feels really cozy to me. Enchanting and engaging as well. I felt fully immersed in the world of Temerant, in a way I didn't think I would experience again for a long while with this kind of fantasy. Farseer also works as a kind of memoir, and qualifies as high fantasy, but whilst I enjoyed it well enough... I can't say it gripped my spirit like The Kingkiller Chronicles currently are.
More specific thoughts:
I really enjoy Mr Rothfuss' prose. Its colour, texture and, more specifically, the skill displayed when it comes to describing a musician's love for music. Or, more generally, the way this tale delves into the very nature of storytelling – biographical or otherwise. This transcends prose and crosses over into theming, of course, but I still wanted to point it out.
I really like the story's "double-layered" magic system, which you gradually become acquainted with through the "Magic University" part of the tale. Science, empiricism, etc... all have a solid presence in this world, and some of that informs Sympathy – with Sygaldry – the first of Temerant's magic systems. But then, there is also Naming... a more magical, or spiritual magic system. And there's a really nice synergy between the two.
I also really enjoy the story's moral tonal signature: KKC feels realistic, but not too grittily so. There is human warmth in this world: kindness, and human compassion, are often rewarded in a way that feels plausible, given the vagaries of human nature. I adore ASOIAF, and I don't actually think it's 'grimdark' or completely devoid of characters that display human goodness. But its darkness does feel a tad relentless at times. I adore the Legendarium, and it does features morally tainted characters (perhaps more so in The Silmarillion than in The Lord of the Rings proper), but its presentation of human morality remains too simplistically dualistic, overall, for my taste. The Kingkiller Chronicles, however, stand somewhere in the middle, and that feels delightfully refreshing.
The narrative additionally displays an understanding of, and gentleness towards: trauma, mental pain and, implicitly – maybe – mental illness and/or disability I found deeply resonating and soothing. Auri's an obvious example of this, but I think Denna and Kvothe also count. As does that shelter for disabled kids Kvothe frequents in Tarbean... 🥲
Speaking of Auri, Denna, Kvothe... I really like Mr Rothfuss' characters. Kvothe feels like a high fantasy, less clinically depressed, and perhaps a tad more earnest/innocent version of The Magicians' Quentin Coldwater. It's also really nice to have a "kind-of-but-not-really Chosen One" who only really counts as a 'Chosen One' because of his intellectual giftedness and love of learning. Denna just... feels real, and partially relatable to me as a 'survivor' with trust issues. Auri... is the most precious bean and if anyone hurts her I WILL CUT THEM. 🙂 And yeah: we have whacky professors, genuine friends, a sassy fae lad (Bast)... and it all just works for me.
Once again, it is mildly surprising this all worked so well for me, because whilst I'm curious about the world's deeper lore – its cosmogony and supernatural beings especially – I'm not desperate for it either. I'll happily learn more if and when it happens, but until then... I feel satisfied with what I have been given* (the same kinda goes, to a lesser extent, for broader theming).
I'm simply glad The Name of the Wind more than met the expectations I did my damnedest to manage going into it, and just about managed to score a four stars rating out of me. Yay! 😌
*I mean... there's a chapter with a freaking. Stoned. Dragon (kind of) in this bish! A dragon! High as a freaking kite! Come on! That's amazing! 😆
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.25
*Listened to on audiobook.
Neverwhere has made me realise just how much I now appreciate, as a more experienced reader, smaller-scale, dark and/or urban fantasy – bonus points if the fantasy incorporates supernatural or folkloric/mythological elements. Gaiman's novel certainly qualifies as the former, at the least, and that's what I found... "cozy" about it, in a way. You follow the story's main character into 'London Below', an interstitial underworld infused with magic... of a basically undefined kind. There's no system involved here: you just have to roll with whatever's happening, as if you were in a rather dark dream.
I enjoyed the 'feeling', the atmosphere of this darkly magical Londinian dreamscape. The prose, moreover, was beautifully rich, rhythmic and even playful at times – there were also a few dashes of well-placed humour here and there. But... I don't really think I got all that much out of this story either. Granted, I may absorb a book less "efficiently" when I listen to it: though honestly, I found it extremely cozy to listen to this on audiobook, and Gaiman did a fantastic job narrating his own story as well. Additionally, my mind... was not in an optimal place to read anything, really. Still, I don't think I'd appreciate it all that differently were I to re-read it some day.
I didn't really latch onto much in terms of theming, character work, or deeper world-building, but I'll admit it was fun to see similarities with other, contemporary or later works. And I guess that's the crux of the matter: Neverwhere was my first foray into Neil Gaiman's fiction and I'd say it was a decently enjoyable one. But I have a feeling it won't turn out to be all that memorable either. I've read other such works of dark, urban fantasy drawing on a rich substrate of culture and folklore (such as... well, yes, Miéville's Kraken) I enjoyed a lot more – Neverwhere just doesn't quite measure up to those prior referents for me. Still, the time I spent listening to it was time well spent overall. 🙂
Neverwhere has made me realise just how much I now appreciate, as a more experienced reader, smaller-scale, dark and/or urban fantasy – bonus points if the fantasy incorporates supernatural or folkloric/mythological elements. Gaiman's novel certainly qualifies as the former, at the least, and that's what I found... "cozy" about it, in a way. You follow the story's main character into 'London Below', an interstitial underworld infused with magic... of a basically undefined kind. There's no system involved here: you just have to roll with whatever's happening, as if you were in a rather dark dream.
I enjoyed the 'feeling', the atmosphere of this darkly magical Londinian dreamscape. The prose, moreover, was beautifully rich, rhythmic and even playful at times – there were also a few dashes of well-placed humour here and there. But... I don't really think I got all that much out of this story either. Granted, I may absorb a book less "efficiently" when I listen to it: though honestly, I found it extremely cozy to listen to this on audiobook, and Gaiman did a fantastic job narrating his own story as well. Additionally, my mind... was not in an optimal place to read anything, really. Still, I don't think I'd appreciate it all that differently were I to re-read it some day.
I didn't really latch onto much in terms of theming, character work, or deeper world-building, but I'll admit it was fun to see similarities with other, contemporary or later works. And I guess that's the crux of the matter: Neverwhere was my first foray into Neil Gaiman's fiction and I'd say it was a decently enjoyable one. But I have a feeling it won't turn out to be all that memorable either. I've read other such works of dark, urban fantasy drawing on a rich substrate of culture and folklore (such as... well, yes, Miéville's Kraken) I enjoyed a lot more – Neverwhere just doesn't quite measure up to those prior referents for me. Still, the time I spent listening to it was time well spent overall. 🙂
Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.75
Basic premise: a 15 year-old girl named Vern escapes a "Black Separatist" cult to give birth to twins, and shit eventually happens involving a fungal infection.
Thoughts: I didn't know much, nor have specific expectations about this one going in... and it turned out to be fairly, but inoffensively, mediocre.
There were bits of inspired prose here and there, but also a lot of telling and not showing, especially when it came to character work – doubly so when considering the story's antagonist – and the development of the novel's "psyop thriller" subplot. None of that felt satisfyingly fleshed out. The novel's action sequences – hell Vern's fungal exoskeleton as a whole, really – also felt a little gimmicky in places. And Vern's characterisation, or rather the characterisation of her level of maturity as it related to her age, also felt off to me.
The theming was woefully inadequate, and never rose beyond an extremely superficial: "Baby's first angry steps into US-centric, IdPol "Leftism" level I found both eye-roll and yawn-inducing. I get the Angry Feelz™, I genuinely do, but the specific flavour of them expressed in this book, whilst perfectly valid, is simply not my thing. Stuff like: "Am I aAcKsHuAlLy a WoMaN DoE?!" when you've literally given birth to and breast-fed twins, however, can just get the fuck out of my face.
You should also know this novel features an extremely out-of-left-field "fungal ghost" orgy scene. I wasn't bothered by it, but it's so "wtf is happening oh... so we're doing this right now, aight!" I thought I'd mention it. 😉
Speaking of fungi... there's next to nothing here in terms of deeper world-building. And if there is one thing I'm genuinely annoyed by, it's the fact shrooms – what they are, what they can and can't actually do – aren't taken seriously in this story (and a few others I've now read). It's an issue more broadly inherent to the phenomenon of trends, sure, but it doesn't change the fact Sorrowland's fungus is little more than a magic thing, and one I found incredibly underwhelming too. Related to this: the novel, as a whole, doesn't feel like proper science-fiction to me, but rather like "magical science-fiction", a hybrid genre I've yet to find truly appealing.
Sorrowland was a case of massively wasted potential for me, made all the more unpalatable by superficial theming of a kind I'm never going to enjoy. I wouldn't particularly recommend this one.
Thoughts: I didn't know much, nor have specific expectations about this one going in... and it turned out to be fairly, but inoffensively, mediocre.
There were bits of inspired prose here and there, but also a lot of telling and not showing, especially when it came to character work – doubly so when considering the story's antagonist – and the development of the novel's "psyop thriller" subplot. None of that felt satisfyingly fleshed out. The novel's action sequences – hell Vern's fungal exoskeleton as a whole, really – also felt a little gimmicky in places. And Vern's characterisation, or rather the characterisation of her level of maturity as it related to her age, also felt off to me.
The theming was woefully inadequate, and never rose beyond an extremely superficial: "Baby's first angry steps into US-centric, IdPol "Leftism" level I found both eye-roll and yawn-inducing. I get the Angry Feelz™, I genuinely do, but the specific flavour of them expressed in this book, whilst perfectly valid, is simply not my thing. Stuff like: "Am I aAcKsHuAlLy a WoMaN DoE?!" when you've literally given birth to and breast-fed twins, however, can just get the fuck out of my face.
You should also know this novel features an extremely out-of-left-field "fungal ghost" orgy scene. I wasn't bothered by it, but it's so "wtf is happening oh... so we're doing this right now, aight!" I thought I'd mention it. 😉
Speaking of fungi... there's next to nothing here in terms of deeper world-building. And if there is one thing I'm genuinely annoyed by, it's the fact shrooms – what they are, what they can and can't actually do – aren't taken seriously in this story (and a few others I've now read). It's an issue more broadly inherent to the phenomenon of trends, sure, but it doesn't change the fact Sorrowland's fungus is little more than a magic thing, and one I found incredibly underwhelming too. Related to this: the novel, as a whole, doesn't feel like proper science-fiction to me, but rather like "magical science-fiction", a hybrid genre I've yet to find truly appealing.
Sorrowland was a case of massively wasted potential for me, made all the more unpalatable by superficial theming of a kind I'm never going to enjoy. I wouldn't particularly recommend this one.
Doomsday Book by Connie Willis
adventurous
dark
hopeful
mysterious
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.0
This was just fine.
Doomsday Book has a neat enough premise: near-future Oxford uses time-machines to do historical research and a double, past and present, pandemic story unfolds from Balliol and Brasenose Colleges sending a very young, over-enthusiastic student, Kivrin, back to the 14th century. But everything outside of that premise was milquetoast.
I didn't get anything cogent in terms of theming, okay fine. On the world-building front, I mean... the base premise does require the reader to suspend their disbelief hard right out of the gate, let's be honest: does 2054 Oxford house mini-nuclear reactors to power their time-travelling? Y'all are telling me Unis can just use that shit to yeet Masters students through space-time but it doesn't seem to have affected the rest of the word to any significant degree!? And other considerations of that ilk. 😆
The book's historical world-building felt a little dated with regards to a couple of things, but it was published in 1992 and historical research has progressed since then so... I can give that a pass. But I didn't get a good sense of what the world was meant to have become in 2054 either. That being said, the SF Masterworks edition introduction implies this disinterest in near-future world-building was meant to encourage the reader to focus on the story's characters and emotional beats. The thing is... I didn't feel much of anything reading this novel, nor did I care about anyone – barring one specific character and his relationship with another.
The plot's pacing also felt off . I found the delivery of its twists, turns and climaxes ineffective, there was a fair bit of drawn-out 'baiting' as well, and I stopped caring about the story around the 60% mark. The ending was predictable and entirely meh; somewhat unearned, perhaps, but inoffensively so.
The page-count, overall, felt unjustifiably excessive to me, but still... I'd say read this if you want a relatively flavourless literary 'snack' that shakes historical fiction, time-travel and pandemics together in a bowl. For my part: this was an SF Masterwork and I read it. The end. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Doomsday Book has a neat enough premise: near-future Oxford uses time-machines to do historical research and a double, past and present, pandemic story unfolds from Balliol and Brasenose Colleges sending a very young, over-enthusiastic student, Kivrin, back to the 14th century. But everything outside of that premise was milquetoast.
I didn't get anything cogent in terms of theming, okay fine. On the world-building front, I mean... the base premise does require the reader to suspend their disbelief hard right out of the gate, let's be honest: does 2054 Oxford house mini-nuclear reactors to power their time-travelling? Y'all are telling me Unis can just use that shit to yeet Masters students through space-time but it doesn't seem to have affected the rest of the word to any significant degree!? And other considerations of that ilk. 😆
The book's historical world-building felt a little dated with regards to a couple of things, but it was published in 1992 and historical research has progressed since then so... I can give that a pass. But I didn't get a good sense of what the world was meant to have become in 2054 either. That being said, the SF Masterworks edition introduction implies this disinterest in near-future world-building was meant to encourage the reader to focus on the story's characters and emotional beats. The thing is... I didn't feel much of anything reading this novel, nor did I care about anyone – barring one specific character and his relationship with another.
The plot's pacing also felt off . I found the delivery of its twists, turns and climaxes ineffective, there was a fair bit of drawn-out 'baiting' as well, and I stopped caring about the story around the 60% mark. The ending was predictable and entirely meh; somewhat unearned, perhaps, but inoffensively so.
The page-count, overall, felt unjustifiably excessive to me, but still... I'd say read this if you want a relatively flavourless literary 'snack' that shakes historical fiction, time-travel and pandemics together in a bowl. For my part: this was an SF Masterwork and I read it. The end. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Alice by Christina Henry
adventurous
dark
emotional
hopeful
reflective
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
A very compelling, dark (and I mean dark) urban fantasy re-telling of Through the Looking Glass and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the setting of which vaguely reminded me of Miéville's New Crobuzon (or even early game Bloodborne 😆).
I really enjoyed the fact the novel features a love-based relationship rooted in years-long friendship, and found its theming on sexual violence, exploitation and overcoming trauma decently well executed, if not all that deep either. Still, it wasn't mis-handled, so I'll take it!
The story's conclusion also felt just right, which is something I always appreciate.
PS:bonus point for the giant talking rabbit.
I really enjoyed the fact the novel features a love-based relationship rooted in years-long friendship, and found its theming on sexual violence, exploitation and overcoming trauma decently well executed, if not all that deep either. Still, it wasn't mis-handled, so I'll take it!
The story's conclusion also felt just right, which is something I always appreciate.
PS:
Queen of the Darkness by Anne Bishop
adventurous
dark
emotional
hopeful
mysterious
sad
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
Thoughts on the trilogy as a whole:
Premise: The Black Jewels follows a set of characters centred on a long-awaited, female Chosen One™ (called Witch) and all living in three adjacent or overlapping realms – I’m still not quite clear on the geography involved – two of which are Living Realms, one of which is essentially the Underworld. The people of these realms are divided into regular humans and non-human animals, and magic folks and non-human animals. Then there are different races of humans, and humanoids called the Eyrien – which have wings sprouting from their backs, because reasons. There are also different castes of magic users, seers and the like, and a magic system that is both tied to sex and channelled through gemstones you get by birth, but can then upgrade once you come of age. Ultimately though, you never really get solid background information on any of this.
Thoughts: The world-building (or lack thereof ahem) bugged me a tad in book one, and I’m happy to say this improved a little in book two specifically – especially given a dragon was involved – but I mean... I mostly stayed on for the vibes to be honest. The plot, for its part, revolves around a long-awaited, female Chosen One™ (called Witch), and gendered power dynamics are also, somewhat, played around with in this trilogy, in a way that could’ve been very cringe... but surprisingly wasn't actually, so yay!
The characters were sufficiently enjoyable, but I am disappointed the Chosen One figure never had her own point of view chapters or paragraphs. I certainly liked the gradual addition of magical non-human animals, and never tired of the witchy, spidery, mildly edgy imagery. I’ll even give a point to the author for the way she handled sexual violence and trauma in her story – unlike any number of other authors whose works I've perused... ahem.
This trilogy – which remained fantasy romance, not erotica, throughout – wasn’t anything to write home about, really, outside of its... "aesthetics" or "vibes", shall we say, but I enjoyed those well enough and just… had fun with it overall, honestly.
Premise: The Black Jewels follows a set of characters centred on a long-awaited, female Chosen One™ (called Witch) and all living in three adjacent or overlapping realms – I’m still not quite clear on the geography involved – two of which are Living Realms, one of which is essentially the Underworld. The people of these realms are divided into regular humans and non-human animals, and magic folks and non-human animals. Then there are different races of humans, and humanoids called the Eyrien – which have wings sprouting from their backs, because reasons. There are also different castes of magic users, seers and the like, and a magic system that is both tied to sex and channelled through gemstones you get by birth, but can then upgrade once you come of age. Ultimately though, you never really get solid background information on any of this.
Thoughts: The world-building (or lack thereof ahem) bugged me a tad in book one, and I’m happy to say this improved a little in book two specifically – especially given a dragon was involved – but I mean... I mostly stayed on for the vibes to be honest. The plot, for its part, revolves around a long-awaited, female Chosen One™ (called Witch), and gendered power dynamics are also, somewhat, played around with in this trilogy, in a way that could’ve been very cringe... but surprisingly wasn't actually, so yay!
The characters were sufficiently enjoyable, but I am disappointed the Chosen One figure never had her own point of view chapters or paragraphs. I certainly liked the gradual addition of magical non-human animals, and never tired of the witchy, spidery, mildly edgy imagery. I’ll even give a point to the author for the way she handled sexual violence and trauma in her story – unlike any number of other authors whose works I've perused... ahem.
This trilogy – which remained fantasy romance, not erotica, throughout – wasn’t anything to write home about, really, outside of its... "aesthetics" or "vibes", shall we say, but I enjoyed those well enough and just… had fun with it overall, honestly.