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thepurplebookwyrm's reviews
1070 reviews
Unmasking Autism: Discovering the New Faces of Neurodiversity by Devon Price
Did not finish book. Stopped at 31%.
Did not finish book. Stopped at 31%.
DNF 31% – Not useful at all to me, way too interested in US-style identity politics/"social justice", contradictory in some ways as well, hard pass.
Bonus: don't conflate being autistic with being transgender, please and thank you. I'm sure there are plenty of folks who'd have been trans, regardless of neurotype, but the fact is there are also autistic people who only question their "gender identity" because their neurotype affords them a head start, so to speak, in questioning, and contesting, the BS of gender... then some of us embrace (proper) feminist theory from a young age and understand that "failing" to be feminine/masculine doesn't change our sex. :) But clearly, autistic people with my experience of 'gender-non-conformity' don't exist, or shouldn't have a voice at any rate. So yeah, fuck that. :)
Oh, and yeah, the stuff about sex work and BDSM I skim-read is kinda weird, and definitely questionable.
Addendum: I'm going to go ahead and give a low rating of two stars, because I learned that a) the author isn't even diagnosed autistic, and b) they basically admit in one of their blog posts that they at least partly transitioned to 'escape' from misogyny... given some of the comments made in the book, I can't let that abject level of hypocrisy slide.
Bonus: don't conflate being autistic with being transgender, please and thank you. I'm sure there are plenty of folks who'd have been trans, regardless of neurotype, but the fact is there are also autistic people who only question their "gender identity" because their neurotype affords them a head start, so to speak, in questioning, and contesting, the BS of gender... then some of us embrace (proper) feminist theory from a young age and understand that "failing" to be feminine/masculine doesn't change our sex. :) But clearly, autistic people with my experience of 'gender-non-conformity' don't exist, or shouldn't have a voice at any rate. So yeah, fuck that. :)
Oh, and yeah, the stuff about sex work and BDSM I skim-read is kinda weird, and definitely questionable.
Addendum: I'm going to go ahead and give a low rating of two stars, because I learned that a) the author isn't even diagnosed autistic, and b) they basically admit in one of their blog posts that they at least partly transitioned to 'escape' from misogyny... given some of the comments made in the book, I can't let that abject level of hypocrisy slide.
The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk
Did not finish book. Stopped at 17%.
Did not finish book. Stopped at 17%.
Won't be useful to me, no citations, too anecdote-heavy.
Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma: The Innate Capacity to Transform Overwhelming Experiences by Peter A. Levine
Did not finish book. Stopped at 13%.
Did not finish book. Stopped at 13%.
Won't be useful to me, confusing language, no citations, bits of woo, no thanks.
The Mini ADHD Coach: How to (finally) Understand Yourself by Alice Gendron
hopeful
informative
fast-paced
4.0
I principally read this to find something I could give to my partner, and honestly found it to be a very nice little introductory guide to living and dealing with ADHD. I really appreciated the fact each chapter was very succinct, but informative, and that the text was accompanied by useful little illustrations. It's also a rather short read overall, so I'd definitely recommend it to adults newly diagnosed with ADHD (with or without accompanying ASD). 🙂
Deadhouse Gates by Steven Erikson
Did not finish book. Stopped at 38%.
Did not finish book. Stopped at 38%.
Status: DNF at 35% (chapter 9).
Reading vlog: https://youtu.be/d4fAamkop3M?si=23OsmFaB-4JjqZSx.
It's not you, Malazan Book of the Fallen, it's me (okay it's a little bit you too, let's be real). But yeah, I have needed to "git güd" at DNFing for a long time, and this series is as good a place to (properly) start as any – though it still feels weird, and wrong, to my pathologically perfectionist self. :/
I don't hate Malazan's world-building; I actually find it somewhat interesting and engaging. But the way it has, so far, been unfolding within Mr Erikson's storytelling just isn't enough to compensate for the utter disinterest I feel towards the plot – or rather plot threads – the characters or even the crumbs of broader theming I've managed to pick up. I just do not care, about anything or anyone in the, once again, actual story of Malazan (and literature, for me, has to and always will be a storytelling art form). And given my current state of (relatively) severe burnout, my ability to trudge through boredom and indifference for the sake of 'lore RAFO' has essentially been nullified. As an ideas- and concepts-driven reader, if a story's ideas and concepts can't pull me forward, then it's plot absolutely has to, and... it's just not, here. So it's time to pack it in!
Honestly, if Malazan's creators and/or the fandom ever puts out a lore companion book, I'd be happy to check it out because, to reiterate: I didn't find the world-building uninteresting, ultimately. I'd probably check out a graphic novel or, heck, video game adaptation of this series as well, if that ever became a thing. Also side note: the RPG origins of Malazan are kinda obvious if you know what to look for. Not that that's necessarily, in and of itself, a bad thing, mind you. But I don't think I really like that formula, personally. Different strokes for different folks and all that. ✌️
PS: also the whole desert setting thing, with regards to Deadhouse Gates specifically... eh, I allowed it for Dune, but I just couldn't with it here.
Reading vlog: https://youtu.be/d4fAamkop3M?si=23OsmFaB-4JjqZSx.
It's not you, Malazan Book of the Fallen, it's me (okay it's a little bit you too, let's be real). But yeah, I have needed to "git güd" at DNFing for a long time, and this series is as good a place to (properly) start as any – though it still feels weird, and wrong, to my pathologically perfectionist self. :/
I don't hate Malazan's world-building; I actually find it somewhat interesting and engaging. But the way it has, so far, been unfolding within Mr Erikson's storytelling just isn't enough to compensate for the utter disinterest I feel towards the plot – or rather plot threads – the characters or even the crumbs of broader theming I've managed to pick up. I just do not care, about anything or anyone in the, once again, actual story of Malazan (and literature, for me, has to and always will be a storytelling art form). And given my current state of (relatively) severe burnout, my ability to trudge through boredom and indifference for the sake of 'lore RAFO' has essentially been nullified. As an ideas- and concepts-driven reader, if a story's ideas and concepts can't pull me forward, then it's plot absolutely has to, and... it's just not, here. So it's time to pack it in!
Honestly, if Malazan's creators and/or the fandom ever puts out a lore companion book, I'd be happy to check it out because, to reiterate: I didn't find the world-building uninteresting, ultimately. I'd probably check out a graphic novel or, heck, video game adaptation of this series as well, if that ever became a thing. Also side note: the RPG origins of Malazan are kinda obvious if you know what to look for. Not that that's necessarily, in and of itself, a bad thing, mind you. But I don't think I really like that formula, personally. Different strokes for different folks and all that. ✌️
PS: also the whole desert setting thing, with regards to Deadhouse Gates specifically... eh, I allowed it for Dune, but I just couldn't with it here.
Content Warnings
Minor: Body horror, Gore, Sexual violence
Gardens of the Moon by Steven Erikson
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.25
Reading vlog: https://youtu.be/d4fAamkop3M?si=23OsmFaB-4JjqZSx.
Here's an extremely belated review of Gardens of the Moon (and bits of Deadhouse Gates, technically).
Writing, structure and pacing:
I found Erikson’s prose decent to good, overall. It did the job, felt eloquent or even somewhat inspired at times – I did write a couple of quotes down in my reading log – and that's about it.
I did have an issue with the pacing of Gardens of the Moon, as I generally do when stories coast along at a rather leisurely pace only to go 'balls to the wall wild' with action in their final sections. I’m not saying that never works for me, but it seems it’s just not my preference, especially with stories that don’t really do it for me on other fronts...
The book also tended to have chapters on the longer side of things, which I wasn’t a big fan of either, especially, once again, since I wasn’t particularly invested in the plot in any case. Every chapter, additionally, featured several different points of view, a narrative choice I normally like. But here, unfortunately, the transitions between them weren’t always the smoothest.
Character work:
The character work, such as it was in the pages I read, was fine overall. It was decent to good in a couple of instances, and alright to kinda bad in some others. Paran, for instance, did not make sense to me in terms of character motivations, or rather the shifting thereof... and no, I didn’t find the “but mayhaps godly manipulations murr” excuse good enough. Another character just up and changed her mind about something that had been established as pretty fundamental to her identify, and worldview, before she died, and I just couldn’t quite buy it. Then again, when you have so many different characters, right out of the gate, and all vying for screen-time in every single chapter, it isn’t so surprising that you wouldn’t devote enough time to properly fleshing all of them out, especially if you also have to introduce, then juggle 10 different world-building elements…
I’m not a character-driven reader, no, but the fact I didn’t really care about any character, nor even find most of them particularly interesting at the outset, didn’t help. I did like Tattersail (outside of the 'instalovy' schtick with Paran)… and Crone, the old as fuck magical Raven, was based. Yes, my favourite Malazan character is a bird, make of that what you will. #SheWasTheRealMVP
A point of firmer criticism, that mildly overlaps with world-building: the fact this story features old, and I mean extremely old, think ancient, beings, some of them godlike, with ‘speaking roles’… actually broke my immersion a little. Convincingly portraying non-human animal minds is difficult to pull off. Portraying alien, eldritch or godlike minds, is extremely difficult to pull off. It can be done, but holy shit is it rare – in my limited experience. It’s all the harder to do when you have them sit down for a fireside chat and speak like what essentially amounts to a slightly odd or aloof human being – yes, looking right at you, Anomander Rake. That kind of character, in my humble opinion, should (most of the time) be spoken of, observed by others, not spoken to.
Theming elements:
I honestly didn’t read enough of the greater story to have any strong opinions regarding the series’ overarching theming. What threads, or crumbs I picked up seemed to be concerned with the rise and fall of empires, and civilisation; its nature, its pitfalls, etc… The nature of power, or godhood – in a, ahem, rather JRPG-reminiscent sense – might’ve also been bopping about in there.
None of these crumbs were bad as such, but what I managed to gather on my… uhm, reading plate, shall we say, didn’t particularly engage or appeal to me, given my personal theming preferences, or the way these were peppered throughout the pages I read. Perhaps it would all eventually amount to something I could in fact appreciate to some extent, but: a) doubt, and b) life’s too short, and there are too many other books out there to justify expending this much effort to get to something my brain could only potentially vibe with in these ones.
World-building:
I didn’t hate what bits of world-building I got in the bits of Malazan I read. In fact, those are the bits I liked the most, by far. The problem is, I didn’t get enough of them to compensate for my utter lack of interest in the broader story, and what I got, wasn’t delivered in a way that really worked for me.
What I read of Malazan, in my opionion, suffered from conflating complexity, with depth, and from conflating quantity, with quality. It’s basically a version of the ‘too many things, too soon’ problem, in my book. I am not saying there is no depth to the world-building as a whole, but from the little research I’ve done into the series, it does seem like there won’t be as much depth of information, and immersion in this series as I’d like, as I’d need for this series to become a new favourite, or to simply, once again, justify expending additional effort to continue reading it.
On the positive side of things: I found the magic intriguing, though not mind-blowingly fascinating either. The sketches I got of theological and mythological world-building were decently compelling as well. The 'Tiste Andii' did have that cool factor to them, but they also just screamed... drow elves to my visual brain. There were giant bug mounts, neat, and a book, or series, always gets a point, from me, for having solid corvid representation. The shamanic, Neanderthal-esque undead dudes were kinda neat as well.
But that brings me to another issue: the temporal scope of this story. It is huge; this isn’t intrinsically a problem, but it kinda breaks for me when expressed through actual, living characters who are either absurdly old, in an unconvincing fashion, or who seem to have an awareness and understanding of the past that strains credibility. Although I guess if you can talk to creatures that were bopping about 50k years ago, that would in fact help with fleshing out your history books, sure. I also had an issue with the narrative distance in Gardens of the Moon: it felt like it was trying to go both for a mythical or actual fictional history vibe à la Silmarillion or Fire and Blood, and a more intimate, immediate character-focused story vibe, à la LotR or the main series of ASOIAF. And it failed to satisfyingly reach either for me.
I didn’t find the story’s linguistic world-building particularly good. It wasn’t terrible, but there’s nothing for it, I was bugged by that one, singular city-state named Dharujistan. And as a friend pointed out to me, a weirdly high number of characters in Gardens of the Moon (and Deadhouse Gates) had janky object names, for some reason. I also found the books’ epigraphs majorly wasted in terms of world-building potential. They were just way too opaque, and self-referential for first-time readers.
And finally, just a small thing I noticed: there was a rather strange dissonance between the stated to be more or less sex-egalitarian world of Malazan, and the still kinda gendered perceptions of a lot of its characters, especially when it came to lustful observations. Something just didn’t quite add up for me there, given my understanding of things like patriarchy, gender, feminist theory, etc… I’m sure this won’t bother most readers, and I want to be clear this isn’t something I found offensive, or problematic, just more so something that I felt didn’t really make sense from a greater world-building perspective.
Additional remarks:
There’s nothing for it: the RPG origins of, and influences on Gardens of the Moon (and presumably the rest of the series) were very obvious to me past a certain point. When I got to that duel between Anomader Rake and that Demon Prince thing, I didn’t feel 'ze epicness'... I giggled, because it felt like reading a Dark Souls boss encounter, and whilst that shit is epic when you play it, it, somehow, just does not work for me in novel format. I was also reminded of Final Fantasy XVI and the Elder Scrolls, which is why I maintain: this story would work a thousand times better, for my brain, as an actual RPG. Or even a graphic novel, maybe.
Ultimately, I just found myself thoroughly disinterested in the story’s plot, and characters, and not engaged enough by its world-building, or theming. Malazan, or rather the bits of it I tried, bounced right off of me; the vibratory harmonisation between text and brain that makes a story click for me never occurred, and I must thus, alas, DNF the series.
Here's an extremely belated review of Gardens of the Moon (and bits of Deadhouse Gates, technically).
Writing, structure and pacing:
I found Erikson’s prose decent to good, overall. It did the job, felt eloquent or even somewhat inspired at times – I did write a couple of quotes down in my reading log – and that's about it.
I did have an issue with the pacing of Gardens of the Moon, as I generally do when stories coast along at a rather leisurely pace only to go 'balls to the wall wild' with action in their final sections. I’m not saying that never works for me, but it seems it’s just not my preference, especially with stories that don’t really do it for me on other fronts...
The book also tended to have chapters on the longer side of things, which I wasn’t a big fan of either, especially, once again, since I wasn’t particularly invested in the plot in any case. Every chapter, additionally, featured several different points of view, a narrative choice I normally like. But here, unfortunately, the transitions between them weren’t always the smoothest.
Character work:
The character work, such as it was in the pages I read, was fine overall. It was decent to good in a couple of instances, and alright to kinda bad in some others. Paran, for instance, did not make sense to me in terms of character motivations, or rather the shifting thereof... and no, I didn’t find the “but mayhaps godly manipulations murr” excuse good enough. Another character just up and changed her mind about something that had been established as pretty fundamental to her identify, and worldview, before she died, and I just couldn’t quite buy it. Then again, when you have so many different characters, right out of the gate, and all vying for screen-time in every single chapter, it isn’t so surprising that you wouldn’t devote enough time to properly fleshing all of them out, especially if you also have to introduce, then juggle 10 different world-building elements…
I’m not a character-driven reader, no, but the fact I didn’t really care about any character, nor even find most of them particularly interesting at the outset, didn’t help. I did like Tattersail (outside of the 'instalovy' schtick with Paran)… and Crone, the old as fuck magical Raven, was based. Yes, my favourite Malazan character is a bird, make of that what you will. #SheWasTheRealMVP
A point of firmer criticism, that mildly overlaps with world-building: the fact this story features old, and I mean extremely old, think ancient, beings, some of them godlike, with ‘speaking roles’… actually broke my immersion a little. Convincingly portraying non-human animal minds is difficult to pull off. Portraying alien, eldritch or godlike minds, is extremely difficult to pull off. It can be done, but holy shit is it rare – in my limited experience. It’s all the harder to do when you have them sit down for a fireside chat and speak like what essentially amounts to a slightly odd or aloof human being – yes, looking right at you, Anomander Rake. That kind of character, in my humble opinion, should (most of the time) be spoken of, observed by others, not spoken to.
Theming elements:
I honestly didn’t read enough of the greater story to have any strong opinions regarding the series’ overarching theming. What threads, or crumbs I picked up seemed to be concerned with the rise and fall of empires, and civilisation; its nature, its pitfalls, etc… The nature of power, or godhood – in a, ahem, rather JRPG-reminiscent sense – might’ve also been bopping about in there.
None of these crumbs were bad as such, but what I managed to gather on my… uhm, reading plate, shall we say, didn’t particularly engage or appeal to me, given my personal theming preferences, or the way these were peppered throughout the pages I read. Perhaps it would all eventually amount to something I could in fact appreciate to some extent, but: a) doubt, and b) life’s too short, and there are too many other books out there to justify expending this much effort to get to something my brain could only potentially vibe with in these ones.
World-building:
I didn’t hate what bits of world-building I got in the bits of Malazan I read. In fact, those are the bits I liked the most, by far. The problem is, I didn’t get enough of them to compensate for my utter lack of interest in the broader story, and what I got, wasn’t delivered in a way that really worked for me.
What I read of Malazan, in my opionion, suffered from conflating complexity, with depth, and from conflating quantity, with quality. It’s basically a version of the ‘too many things, too soon’ problem, in my book. I am not saying there is no depth to the world-building as a whole, but from the little research I’ve done into the series, it does seem like there won’t be as much depth of information, and immersion in this series as I’d like, as I’d need for this series to become a new favourite, or to simply, once again, justify expending additional effort to continue reading it.
On the positive side of things: I found the magic intriguing, though not mind-blowingly fascinating either. The sketches I got of theological and mythological world-building were decently compelling as well. The 'Tiste Andii' did have that cool factor to them, but they also just screamed... drow elves to my visual brain. There were giant bug mounts, neat, and a book, or series, always gets a point, from me, for having solid corvid representation. The shamanic, Neanderthal-esque undead dudes were kinda neat as well.
But that brings me to another issue: the temporal scope of this story. It is huge; this isn’t intrinsically a problem, but it kinda breaks for me when expressed through actual, living characters who are either absurdly old, in an unconvincing fashion, or who seem to have an awareness and understanding of the past that strains credibility. Although I guess if you can talk to creatures that were bopping about 50k years ago, that would in fact help with fleshing out your history books, sure. I also had an issue with the narrative distance in Gardens of the Moon: it felt like it was trying to go both for a mythical or actual fictional history vibe à la Silmarillion or Fire and Blood, and a more intimate, immediate character-focused story vibe, à la LotR or the main series of ASOIAF. And it failed to satisfyingly reach either for me.
I didn’t find the story’s linguistic world-building particularly good. It wasn’t terrible, but there’s nothing for it, I was bugged by that one, singular city-state named Dharujistan. And as a friend pointed out to me, a weirdly high number of characters in Gardens of the Moon (and Deadhouse Gates) had janky object names, for some reason. I also found the books’ epigraphs majorly wasted in terms of world-building potential. They were just way too opaque, and self-referential for first-time readers.
And finally, just a small thing I noticed: there was a rather strange dissonance between the stated to be more or less sex-egalitarian world of Malazan, and the still kinda gendered perceptions of a lot of its characters, especially when it came to lustful observations. Something just didn’t quite add up for me there, given my understanding of things like patriarchy, gender, feminist theory, etc… I’m sure this won’t bother most readers, and I want to be clear this isn’t something I found offensive, or problematic, just more so something that I felt didn’t really make sense from a greater world-building perspective.
Additional remarks:
There’s nothing for it: the RPG origins of, and influences on Gardens of the Moon (and presumably the rest of the series) were very obvious to me past a certain point. When I got to that duel between Anomader Rake and that Demon Prince thing, I didn’t feel 'ze epicness'... I giggled, because it felt like reading a Dark Souls boss encounter, and whilst that shit is epic when you play it, it, somehow, just does not work for me in novel format. I was also reminded of Final Fantasy XVI and the Elder Scrolls, which is why I maintain: this story would work a thousand times better, for my brain, as an actual RPG. Or even a graphic novel, maybe.
Ultimately, I just found myself thoroughly disinterested in the story’s plot, and characters, and not engaged enough by its world-building, or theming. Malazan, or rather the bits of it I tried, bounced right off of me; the vibratory harmonisation between text and brain that makes a story click for me never occurred, and I must thus, alas, DNF the series.
Content Warnings
Minor: Gore, Violence
The Narrow Road Between Desires by Patrick Rothfuss
emotional
hopeful
lighthearted
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.75
The Narrow Road Between Desires follows a day in the life of Bast, older Kvothe’s charming, but rather mysterious Fae friend, apprentice and employee. More specifically, this tale offers the reader a glimpse into the daily deals Bast strikes with the local children, and the often-conflicting desires – nestled in his heart of hearts – that move and motivate him to do what he does.
Now, since I loved the main novels of The Kingkiller Chronicles, and the series’ first companion novella, The Slow Regard of Silent Things – both of which I first read last year – I am very glad to say I thoroughly enjoyed this second companion novella as well. It was a pleasure to experience Mr Rothfuss’ prose again, and to learn a few crumbs of new (or at least new to me) lore about Temerant’s Faen, and their magic.
I also, quite simply, enjoyed getting a closer look at Bast, and found his character pretty interesting overall. More than that, however, I really appreciated the subtle, and respectful way abuse, and related trauma, were portrayed in this book… and the quiet, but very believable compassion Bast was shown to express in response to both. It is so heartening to see The Kingkiller Chronicles’ genuine valuing of kindness, compassion and gentleness of spirit hold true across all of the series’ related tales.
Given all that, and regardless of the controversy surrounding this specific publication, I would warmly and confidently recommend this novella to any fan of The Kingkiller Chronicles who has not yet read it. 🙂
Now, since I loved the main novels of The Kingkiller Chronicles, and the series’ first companion novella, The Slow Regard of Silent Things – both of which I first read last year – I am very glad to say I thoroughly enjoyed this second companion novella as well. It was a pleasure to experience Mr Rothfuss’ prose again, and to learn a few crumbs of new (or at least new to me) lore about Temerant’s Faen, and their magic.
I also, quite simply, enjoyed getting a closer look at Bast, and found his character pretty interesting overall. More than that, however, I really appreciated the subtle, and respectful way abuse, and related trauma, were portrayed in this book… and the quiet, but very believable compassion Bast was shown to express in response to both. It is so heartening to see The Kingkiller Chronicles’ genuine valuing of kindness, compassion and gentleness of spirit hold true across all of the series’ related tales.
Given all that, and regardless of the controversy surrounding this specific publication, I would warmly and confidently recommend this novella to any fan of The Kingkiller Chronicles who has not yet read it. 🙂
Witch King by Martha Wells
adventurous
hopeful
mysterious
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.25
Read for the 2024 Hugo Awards.
Witch King centres on Kai (short for Kaiisteron), a Demon Prince who, for decades, has been inhabiting a few different human bodies, and takes place in a secondary fantasy world that has been devastated by a continent-wide war, where various long- (to very long-)lived, and magic-wielding races, or ethnic groups – such as Witches, Blessed Immortals, and Demons – live in a precarious state of balance.
It is told in first person, from Kai’s sole point of view, and through two different timelines: a present one, in which Kai wakes up from a 'magic coma', then tries to make sense of lost time, and an accompanying political intrigue. And a past timeline, in which unfolds Kai’s personal backstory, as well as some of his homeland’s history – especially as it pertains to the great war it went through, decades before the present timeline.
I appreciated Martha Wells’ prose, and descriptions, which I found, overall, very evocative, and effective in making her world come to life, and feel real. The world of Witch King, such as it was portrayed, did not lack for texture, sounds, smells or colours, and the author managed to provide several different, yet more or less equally compelling sketches of her various ethnic groups, or humanoid races.
The book’s world-building – or the glimpses I got of it, at any rate – was, for its part, pleasantly tantalising. I loved the creative way the author re-interpreted classic, supernatural figures such as those of the witch, or demon – or even, arguably, those of angels… though it must be said I think the world-building, as a whole, could have been fleshed out a lot more than it actually was. In terms of theming, I’ll concede there were, yes, a couple of threads, here, on personal identity, given Kai’s body-hopping, and cultural identity, given the atrocious, genocidal war the story referenced (and only briefly featured directly). But these threads didn’t run particularly deep either, nor were they compellingly developed all that much. Most of the story’s characters were, yes, impassioned by a need and desire for justice, and the creation of a better world, but this related aspect of the book’s theming also felt rather superficial overall.
Which brings me to character work. Kai received a good amount of character development, as the story’s protagonist, but the character work flagged a little when it came to the tale’s secondary players. Worse, however, was the portrayal of its character relationships. These were mostly fine in the book’s present timeline, but the author then failed to properly establish the reasons why her core cast became entangled, in the first place, in her past timeline. There was a glaring lack of necessary character motivations, and it felt to me as if the present timeline’s characters had only become fast friends, or partners, in the past, because the plot – or rather present timeline – needed them to be… because it just said so. This issue was compounded by the fact I never got a solid grasp on the passage of time in the story; a few chronological markers would’ve been very helpful here. As it stands, the best I could do was surmise the story spanned several decades – but I’m not even entirely sure of that.
Finally, the fact is I was ultimately disappointed by the story itself, and frustrated by its conclusion. The plot, in essence, never really came together for me; its threads were, ultimately, stretched a little too thinly across its two different timelines. I feel the main problem here was one of page-count management, because I actually think this story could’ve benefitted from an increase in its length – rare as that is. Witch King really could’ve been a chonkier novel, or even a duology. Or, conversely, it could’ve been downsized to a more tightly-focus novella – perhaps. Things were just too scattered here, which is a shame because I really did thoroughly enjoy the novel’s world-building, specifically.
So, all in all, this novel was decent to good, and I wouldn’t not recommend it, but it also definitely suffered from a certain case of “unrealised potentiality”. That being said, the overarching feeling of ‘competently delivered secondary world fantasy storytelling’ – I know what I mean here – it left me with actually makes me want to read Martha Well’s The Books of the Raksura series, in the future, even more now, so that’s definitely a positive!
PS: I also liked the fact Witch King featured informative, world-building epigraphs – I’m always a fan of that, honestly.
Witch King centres on Kai (short for Kaiisteron), a Demon Prince who, for decades, has been inhabiting a few different human bodies, and takes place in a secondary fantasy world that has been devastated by a continent-wide war, where various long- (to very long-)lived, and magic-wielding races, or ethnic groups – such as Witches, Blessed Immortals, and Demons – live in a precarious state of balance.
It is told in first person, from Kai’s sole point of view, and through two different timelines: a present one, in which Kai wakes up from a 'magic coma', then tries to make sense of lost time, and an accompanying political intrigue. And a past timeline, in which unfolds Kai’s personal backstory, as well as some of his homeland’s history – especially as it pertains to the great war it went through, decades before the present timeline.
I appreciated Martha Wells’ prose, and descriptions, which I found, overall, very evocative, and effective in making her world come to life, and feel real. The world of Witch King, such as it was portrayed, did not lack for texture, sounds, smells or colours, and the author managed to provide several different, yet more or less equally compelling sketches of her various ethnic groups, or humanoid races.
The book’s world-building – or the glimpses I got of it, at any rate – was, for its part, pleasantly tantalising. I loved the creative way the author re-interpreted classic, supernatural figures such as those of the witch, or demon – or even, arguably, those of angels… though it must be said I think the world-building, as a whole, could have been fleshed out a lot more than it actually was. In terms of theming, I’ll concede there were, yes, a couple of threads, here, on personal identity, given Kai’s body-hopping, and cultural identity, given the atrocious, genocidal war the story referenced (and only briefly featured directly). But these threads didn’t run particularly deep either, nor were they compellingly developed all that much. Most of the story’s characters were, yes, impassioned by a need and desire for justice, and the creation of a better world, but this related aspect of the book’s theming also felt rather superficial overall.
Which brings me to character work. Kai received a good amount of character development, as the story’s protagonist, but the character work flagged a little when it came to the tale’s secondary players. Worse, however, was the portrayal of its character relationships. These were mostly fine in the book’s present timeline, but the author then failed to properly establish the reasons why her core cast became entangled, in the first place, in her past timeline. There was a glaring lack of necessary character motivations, and it felt to me as if the present timeline’s characters had only become fast friends, or partners, in the past, because the plot – or rather present timeline – needed them to be… because it just said so. This issue was compounded by the fact I never got a solid grasp on the passage of time in the story; a few chronological markers would’ve been very helpful here. As it stands, the best I could do was surmise the story spanned several decades – but I’m not even entirely sure of that.
Finally, the fact is I was ultimately disappointed by the story itself, and frustrated by its conclusion. The plot, in essence, never really came together for me; its threads were, ultimately, stretched a little too thinly across its two different timelines. I feel the main problem here was one of page-count management, because I actually think this story could’ve benefitted from an increase in its length – rare as that is. Witch King really could’ve been a chonkier novel, or even a duology. Or, conversely, it could’ve been downsized to a more tightly-focus novella – perhaps. Things were just too scattered here, which is a shame because I really did thoroughly enjoy the novel’s world-building, specifically.
So, all in all, this novel was decent to good, and I wouldn’t not recommend it, but it also definitely suffered from a certain case of “unrealised potentiality”. That being said, the overarching feeling of ‘competently delivered secondary world fantasy storytelling’ – I know what I mean here – it left me with actually makes me want to read Martha Well’s The Books of the Raksura series, in the future, even more now, so that’s definitely a positive!
PS: I also liked the fact Witch King featured informative, world-building epigraphs – I’m always a fan of that, honestly.
Content Warnings
Minor: Violence
War is part of the plot.
Sensor by Junji Ito
dark
hopeful
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
3.5
Sensor opens with a woman, named Kyoko Byakuya, coming to the isolated village of Kiyokami – nestled at the foot of Mount Sengoku, a volcano – where, after a strange sequence of events, she becomes encased in a cocoon of golden volcanic threads, which causes her to acquire a kind of… hyper-sensory awareness of the Universe, and its secrets. This, additionally, all ties back to the past, violent death of a Christian Missionary named Miguel, during the time of the Shogunate. But Kyoko isn’t the tale’s main character; this role, instead, falls to Wataru, a ‘no-name’ reporter who becomes intrigued, then captivated by Kyoko, and embroiled with a cult looking to harness the latter’s ‘golden volcanic thread’-bestowed psychic powers.
Sensor was my second manga written, and illustrated by Junji Ito and, what can I say… as with his previously read Uzumaki, I loved the art style in these pages, the deftness with which Junji Ito drew mysterious, and horrific things, and just… the sheer beauty of some of his full-page illustrations.
As to the story itself… well, I enjoyed its start, and the initial stages of its ‘esoteric cult’ plot line. But unfortunately, the manga’s overarching plot never really came together in a satisfying way for me. Mostly, it felt like it was rushed to the finish line; that it lacked a necessary measure of set-up, and breathing space. Especially given the thematic, and emotional notes I felt the story was trying to reach, sadly, felt a little trite… and, interestingly enough, too optimistic. Not, to be clear, that I require my horror – cosmic or otherwise – be unremittingly grim. I actually tend to dislike grimness for the sake of it in stories, in general. It’s just that these optimistic, or hopeful, emotional and thematic notes I encountered in Sensor were executed in a way I found unconvincing, and thus ultimately felt unearned to me.
So, no, Sensor did not, in terms of personal impact, commitment to overarching, thematic motif, or just overall quality, quite simply, rise to the level of Uzumaki for me. But that doesn’t mean it was bad either; it was still a perfectly enjoyable manga in my book, that I do no regret reading in the slightest. And rest assured that I will absolutely be reading more Junji Ito in the futures, oh yes!
Sensor was my second manga written, and illustrated by Junji Ito and, what can I say… as with his previously read Uzumaki, I loved the art style in these pages, the deftness with which Junji Ito drew mysterious, and horrific things, and just… the sheer beauty of some of his full-page illustrations.
As to the story itself… well, I enjoyed its start, and the initial stages of its ‘esoteric cult’ plot line. But unfortunately, the manga’s overarching plot never really came together in a satisfying way for me. Mostly, it felt like it was rushed to the finish line; that it lacked a necessary measure of set-up, and breathing space. Especially given the thematic, and emotional notes I felt the story was trying to reach, sadly, felt a little trite… and, interestingly enough, too optimistic. Not, to be clear, that I require my horror – cosmic or otherwise – be unremittingly grim. I actually tend to dislike grimness for the sake of it in stories, in general. It’s just that these optimistic, or hopeful, emotional and thematic notes I encountered in Sensor were executed in a way I found unconvincing, and thus ultimately felt unearned to me.
So, no, Sensor did not, in terms of personal impact, commitment to overarching, thematic motif, or just overall quality, quite simply, rise to the level of Uzumaki for me. But that doesn’t mean it was bad either; it was still a perfectly enjoyable manga in my book, that I do no regret reading in the slightest. And rest assured that I will absolutely be reading more Junji Ito in the futures, oh yes!
Content Warnings
Moderate: Body horror
A Sword of Bronze and Ashes by Anna Smith Spark
adventurous
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
A Sword of Bronze and Ashes, a single POV story, told in third person, opens up as its main character, a middle-aged mother of three daughters named Kanda, comes across a corpse floating down the river running by her cattle pastures. From that point follow a series of harrowing, supernaturally-tainted events, told in a present timeline, as Kanda is forced to flee her home, with her family, to protect it... and is forced to reckon with her progressively revealed past – told, in parallel, in a past timeline – as Ikandera Thygethyn, the greatest warrior there ever was.
Okay, so this one was strange and, unfortunately for me, strange in a way I largely found unsatisfying.
On a positive note, I definitely think this book's prose stood out: its author used very lyrical, evocative prose to convincing effect and, more impressively, a somewhat 'stream of consciousness'-infused narrative style that, on its own, for once, largely worked for me. The story's pacing was also pretty even overall, which I liked.
I really enjoyed just how gynocentric this story was, given the kind of story it was. A Sword of Bronze and Ashes is pretty dark, gritty fantasy with significant supernatural, folklore or mythology-derived horror elements – and yes I'm aware the author is known for writing grimdark fantasy, specifically, though I'm not entirely sure this novel counts as grimdark for me, but of course your mileage will vary with this. But so, given the story's nature, I found the fact its main character was a middle-aged mother of three very pleasantly refreshing. Additionally, the author didn't shy away from showing the less savoury parts of womanhood, of aging womanhood (chin hairs, bodily pains, heavy periods and all) and how this affected her main character with regards to self-image and self-worth – to some extent at least.
Kanda's character work was pretty good overall, though it largely failed when it came to establishing some of her character motivations, specifically, which then impacted the plot's resolution in a way I found frustrating. The book's broader character work also largely fell by the wayside when it came to the story's secondary and tertiary characters. For the most part, those felt more like sketches, archetypes, plot conveniences or rather conveniences drawn for the sake of Kanda's character growth, more than fully fleshed characters in their own right. The amount of plot armour some of the characters received was also very inconsistent and felt, as a result, very convenient in a way I also found frustrating.
As to the book's world-building, and theming... ach, both left me wanting. I didn't get much out of this one with regards to the latter, beyond a couple of threads of exploration on moral redemption and (chiefly) motherly love. Then with regards to the former, well, this book just didn't deliver much that I could really engage with. I believe this book is, partly at least, sold on the fact its world-building is influenced by Celtic folklore and/or mythology. And I could, yes, kind of see it in very subtle ways. But I'm also a mythology nerd and have a very specific interest in, and fondness for Celtic stuff... so I'm not sure this would be at all apparent to more casual mythology enthusiasts, and thus worth promoting.
More than anything though, this novel had a significant problem in terms of tonal, narrative dissonance. It felt, to me, like A Sword of Bronze and Ashes was trying to marry two fairly different, and easily dissonant, narrative tones: one of epic mythicality, and one of more immediate, intimate, psychological and familial tragedy... in a way that just didn't work very well. The book's prose was very lyrical, but also fairly dreamlike, in no small part due, I'd wager, to its 'stream-of-consciousness' inflections. You eventually learn that Kanda is, not only much older than a mortal has any right to be, but a kind of... demigod, is how I understood it. But the narrative doesn't devote enough time to fleshing out the actual nature of her origins, setting- or era-wise. Strange, godlike and demon-like beings are mentioned, but you never really get to understand what their nature truly is. There are also several points in the narrative where you're not entirely sure if what Kanda is experiencing, is actually real. There is a lot of shape-shifting as well, of fluidity between states of life and states of death... which, yes, makes sense in a mythological setting, and which, yes, points to Celtic influences if, like me, you know what to look for. But the problem is I felt like the book ultimately 'wanted' me to focus on the immediate experiences, and emotions, of a middle-aged mother trying to save her family... and none of it meshed together all that well.
Strange, non-intuitive combinations, like salt and caramel, can sometimes lead to wonderful results (salted caramel anythingis the shit). But this novel was made up of a strange combination that didn't, ultimately, taste all that good to me. Its not that it tasted bad, either, exactly. It had, rather... an interesting taste, but I probably wouldn't order that specific flavour combination again, if ya catch mah drift. Which means I don't regret picking this one up, since it was memorable in its own way, but for me, it was only worth reading once.
Okay, so this one was strange and, unfortunately for me, strange in a way I largely found unsatisfying.
On a positive note, I definitely think this book's prose stood out: its author used very lyrical, evocative prose to convincing effect and, more impressively, a somewhat 'stream of consciousness'-infused narrative style that, on its own, for once, largely worked for me. The story's pacing was also pretty even overall, which I liked.
I really enjoyed just how gynocentric this story was, given the kind of story it was. A Sword of Bronze and Ashes is pretty dark, gritty fantasy with significant supernatural, folklore or mythology-derived horror elements – and yes I'm aware the author is known for writing grimdark fantasy, specifically, though I'm not entirely sure this novel counts as grimdark for me, but of course your mileage will vary with this. But so, given the story's nature, I found the fact its main character was a middle-aged mother of three very pleasantly refreshing. Additionally, the author didn't shy away from showing the less savoury parts of womanhood, of aging womanhood (chin hairs, bodily pains, heavy periods and all) and how this affected her main character with regards to self-image and self-worth – to some extent at least.
Kanda's character work was pretty good overall, though it largely failed when it came to establishing some of her character motivations, specifically, which then impacted the plot's resolution in a way I found frustrating. The book's broader character work also largely fell by the wayside when it came to the story's secondary and tertiary characters. For the most part, those felt more like sketches, archetypes, plot conveniences or rather conveniences drawn for the sake of Kanda's character growth, more than fully fleshed characters in their own right. The amount of plot armour some of the characters received was also very inconsistent and felt, as a result, very convenient in a way I also found frustrating.
As to the book's world-building, and theming... ach, both left me wanting. I didn't get much out of this one with regards to the latter, beyond a couple of threads of exploration on moral redemption and (chiefly) motherly love. Then with regards to the former, well, this book just didn't deliver much that I could really engage with. I believe this book is, partly at least, sold on the fact its world-building is influenced by Celtic folklore and/or mythology. And I could, yes, kind of see it in very subtle ways. But I'm also a mythology nerd and have a very specific interest in, and fondness for Celtic stuff... so I'm not sure this would be at all apparent to more casual mythology enthusiasts, and thus worth promoting.
More than anything though, this novel had a significant problem in terms of tonal, narrative dissonance. It felt, to me, like A Sword of Bronze and Ashes was trying to marry two fairly different, and easily dissonant, narrative tones: one of epic mythicality, and one of more immediate, intimate, psychological and familial tragedy... in a way that just didn't work very well. The book's prose was very lyrical, but also fairly dreamlike, in no small part due, I'd wager, to its 'stream-of-consciousness' inflections. You eventually learn that Kanda is, not only much older than a mortal has any right to be, but a kind of... demigod, is how I understood it. But the narrative doesn't devote enough time to fleshing out the actual nature of her origins, setting- or era-wise. Strange, godlike and demon-like beings are mentioned, but you never really get to understand what their nature truly is. There are also several points in the narrative where you're not entirely sure if what Kanda is experiencing, is actually real. There is a lot of shape-shifting as well, of fluidity between states of life and states of death... which, yes, makes sense in a mythological setting, and which, yes, points to Celtic influences if, like me, you know what to look for. But the problem is I felt like the book ultimately 'wanted' me to focus on the immediate experiences, and emotions, of a middle-aged mother trying to save her family... and none of it meshed together all that well.
Strange, non-intuitive combinations, like salt and caramel, can sometimes lead to wonderful results (salted caramel anythingis the shit). But this novel was made up of a strange combination that didn't, ultimately, taste all that good to me. Its not that it tasted bad, either, exactly. It had, rather... an interesting taste, but I probably wouldn't order that specific flavour combination again, if ya catch mah drift. Which means I don't regret picking this one up, since it was memorable in its own way, but for me, it was only worth reading once.
Content Warnings
Minor: Child death, Violence