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vickycbooks's reviews
854 reviews
The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison
Interestingly mixed feelings about this one. I actually read this because I read part of a Tumblr post ( https://aethersea.tumblr.com/post/746505725777510400) that talked about it in such a way (mostly on the appeal of the revolutionary ideal of trust) that I felt compelled to actually borrow it from my library, even though it's one of those books that I'd usually put on my TBR and then never read.
I read this in less than three days, which is the fastest I've read any SFF book in the past like...five years (especially now that I work full time). And I agree with Tumblr user aethersea that Addison's portrayal of trust was a really bright moment in this book. The way she structures the story about the importance of trust, and moreover rewards doing so in the story, make it very compelling in almost a cozy way (in the sense that good things do happen to people who deserve it). aethersea says this much better than I can.
I liked Maia's story independently -- I have a soft spot for underdog stories (like I loved SHE WHO BECAME THE SUN) and I guiltily love that almost Cinderella-esque rise to royalty. Even though Maia is honestly just some guy who's barely getting by with the weight of the empire on his shoulders, he's a compelling hero and you want him to succeed. I would argue that as a reader, you don't even want Maia to succeed based on his own personality, but you want him to succeed just by virtue of his journey and where it has taken him as a person.
I also enjoyed the very court-politic focused nature of the story. There was very little action, very much politics. The fact that the politics are from a perspective of Maia who's distinctly uncomfortable by politics & is generally just being honest about how they try to rule things makes it a lot more approachable for readers. It made it comforting that you were following along with Maia, who is honestly just trying to do his best instead of trying to outwit and outmaneuver other people.
But I also cannot reconcile my like of these elements with how much I detested the worldbuilding.
I don't know who out there was like "wow the linguistic worldbuilding was so great" because....babe...what linguistic worldbuilding? A handful of prefixes and suffixes and some made up words make not a sophisticated linguistic worldbuild. Honestly, the language worldbuilding largely contributed to (1) an atmosphere of political intrigue and formality in titles and appropriate forms of address and (2) reader confusion about who's who. I don't think Addison did anything exceptional with the linguistics -- sure, it was complicated, but it wasn't like. very important to the story or very clever or meaningful or anything really. I would argue that the biggest role of the language that Addison creates is to create rules and regulations within the story for address, and also help provide tension and conflict between in-group (the court) and out-group (Maia, who only has some education in the topic). Which is fine, and a valid purpose for introducing this language. But I wouldn't really call the linguistics anything special.
I also found the rest of the worldbuilding, outside of politics, severely underwhelming. Elves are snowy white, in skin and hair. Goblins are black-skinned (and to be clear: the color black, not Black) with dark hair and red/orange/etc. eyes. In form, goblins are generally stockier, but also taller and sometimes fat, but still human-shaped (so not little goblins). Mixed-race people have grey skin tones and inherit some mix of features, of which Maia is. Noblewomen are expected to become wives, and there are fairly strict gender roles both in the story and in the made-up linguistics.
I tell you all this not to be particularly because you care, but to highlight how lazy this is for worldbuilding. And like. I'll admit, I didn't really expect much from a 2014 fantasy novel. But how uncaring must you be to simply concede to already established fantasy tropes and just. Keep going along with it. Elves are white! Goblins are black (but not really Black, because we obviously can't write about Black people in fantasy)! Women are oppressed!
Addison attempts to involve some element of racism against the goblins, but also doesn't really engage with it critically...ever. It is simply something that is used to discredit Maia by his enemies, that's brought up every once and a while and is used to highlight who are the xenophobic "bad guys" and who are the "good guys" (who do spit out the occasional microaggression, but contritely learn from their mistakes). I very much felt like the racism in the story was very much a tool Addison was able to use to emphasize this underdog story that she was trying to tell, but it is never examined critically or ever engaged with in a way that made sense in the context of the worldbuilding.
I would argue that the main reason the racism isn't fleshed out enough is because Addison refuses to use it as an actual motivator. All of the motivations in the story are largely political, and that the racism is more of a moralistic signaling, and is executed with no real significance to the story. The extent of its effect was that it made Maia more of an underdog and it helped heighten political tensions. It felt like Addison was scared to develop her fantasy racism in any meaningful capacity, and that she refused to make any characters predominantly engage with racism as the influence on their politics.
In a similar capacity, the sexism (and classism) were used to demonstrate Maia's goodness. Oh, he's kind to his servants. He tries to learn their names. He encourages women to pursue their passions (except for his wife, that is). This is just a dressed up version of THE SELECTION where America Singer is not-like-other-girls (she's better!) because she's down to earth.
I'll concede that the classism is an important part to the politics. But the story never really engages with the sexism and racism built into the world other than as seasoning for highlighting political tensions.
I realize I am being critical, and that maybe I just shouldn't expect so much, especially from a book from this era. But again, I'll say that I did like a fair amount of THE GOBLIN EMPEROR. I liked its heart. I just wish that more thought went into the worldbuilding. I genuinely feel that the same story could have been told without relying on these fantasy tropes in such blatantly uncritical ways.
Yes, Addison needs some sort of power structure, some boundaries and rules to be able to structure a rags-to-riches story. (Of course, what we really want to see is down with the empire! Burn it all down!) But I also think that she didn't have to lean so hard into so many old fantasy tropes with, what I see as, no real reason other than lazy writing. To me, it felt like these tropes were kept so Addison didn't have to worldbuild as much, and could instead rely on the readers' preconceived notions of how these systems work to be able to signal and guide readers' understanding of the politics.
I think I'd be willing to read more from Addison, but I would want to see a more novel idea and more novel world from them. THE GOBLIN EMPEROR feels very...classic-rooted, is the nice way to say it I guess, and I would be interesting to see how they write more original worlds.
I read this in less than three days, which is the fastest I've read any SFF book in the past like...five years (especially now that I work full time). And I agree with Tumblr user aethersea that Addison's portrayal of trust was a really bright moment in this book. The way she structures the story about the importance of trust, and moreover rewards doing so in the story, make it very compelling in almost a cozy way (in the sense that good things do happen to people who deserve it). aethersea says this much better than I can.
I liked Maia's story independently -- I have a soft spot for underdog stories (like I loved SHE WHO BECAME THE SUN) and I guiltily love that almost Cinderella-esque rise to royalty. Even though Maia is honestly just some guy who's barely getting by with the weight of the empire on his shoulders, he's a compelling hero and you want him to succeed. I would argue that as a reader, you don't even want Maia to succeed based on his own personality, but you want him to succeed just by virtue of his journey and where it has taken him as a person.
I also enjoyed the very court-politic focused nature of the story. There was very little action, very much politics. The fact that the politics are from a perspective of Maia who's distinctly uncomfortable by politics & is generally just being honest about how they try to rule things makes it a lot more approachable for readers. It made it comforting that you were following along with Maia, who is honestly just trying to do his best instead of trying to outwit and outmaneuver other people.
But I also cannot reconcile my like of these elements with how much I detested the worldbuilding.
I don't know who out there was like "wow the linguistic worldbuilding was so great" because....babe...what linguistic worldbuilding? A handful of prefixes and suffixes and some made up words make not a sophisticated linguistic worldbuild. Honestly, the language worldbuilding largely contributed to (1) an atmosphere of political intrigue and formality in titles and appropriate forms of address and (2) reader confusion about who's who. I don't think Addison did anything exceptional with the linguistics -- sure, it was complicated, but it wasn't like. very important to the story or very clever or meaningful or anything really. I would argue that the biggest role of the language that Addison creates is to create rules and regulations within the story for address, and also help provide tension and conflict between in-group (the court) and out-group (Maia, who only has some education in the topic). Which is fine, and a valid purpose for introducing this language. But I wouldn't really call the linguistics anything special.
I also found the rest of the worldbuilding, outside of politics, severely underwhelming. Elves are snowy white, in skin and hair. Goblins are black-skinned (and to be clear: the color black, not Black) with dark hair and red/orange/etc. eyes. In form, goblins are generally stockier, but also taller and sometimes fat, but still human-shaped (so not little goblins). Mixed-race people have grey skin tones and inherit some mix of features, of which Maia is. Noblewomen are expected to become wives, and there are fairly strict gender roles both in the story and in the made-up linguistics.
I tell you all this not to be particularly because you care, but to highlight how lazy this is for worldbuilding. And like. I'll admit, I didn't really expect much from a 2014 fantasy novel. But how uncaring must you be to simply concede to already established fantasy tropes and just. Keep going along with it. Elves are white! Goblins are black (but not really Black, because we obviously can't write about Black people in fantasy)! Women are oppressed!
Addison attempts to involve some element of racism against the goblins, but also doesn't really engage with it critically...ever. It is simply something that is used to discredit Maia by his enemies, that's brought up every once and a while and is used to highlight who are the xenophobic "bad guys" and who are the "good guys" (who do spit out the occasional microaggression, but contritely learn from their mistakes). I very much felt like the racism in the story was very much a tool Addison was able to use to emphasize this underdog story that she was trying to tell, but it is never examined critically or ever engaged with in a way that made sense in the context of the worldbuilding.
I would argue that the main reason the racism isn't fleshed out enough is because Addison refuses to use it as an actual motivator. All of the motivations in the story are largely political, and that the racism is more of a moralistic signaling, and is executed with no real significance to the story. The extent of its effect was that it made Maia more of an underdog and it helped heighten political tensions. It felt like Addison was scared to develop her fantasy racism in any meaningful capacity, and that she refused to make any characters predominantly engage with racism as the influence on their politics.
In a similar capacity, the sexism (and classism) were used to demonstrate Maia's goodness. Oh, he's kind to his servants. He tries to learn their names. He encourages women to pursue their passions (except for his wife, that is). This is just a dressed up version of THE SELECTION where America Singer is not-like-other-girls (she's better!) because she's down to earth.
I'll concede that the classism is an important part to the politics. But the story never really engages with the sexism and racism built into the world other than as seasoning for highlighting political tensions.
I realize I am being critical, and that maybe I just shouldn't expect so much, especially from a book from this era. But again, I'll say that I did like a fair amount of THE GOBLIN EMPEROR. I liked its heart. I just wish that more thought went into the worldbuilding. I genuinely feel that the same story could have been told without relying on these fantasy tropes in such blatantly uncritical ways.
Yes, Addison needs some sort of power structure, some boundaries and rules to be able to structure a rags-to-riches story. (Of course, what we really want to see is down with the empire! Burn it all down!) But I also think that she didn't have to lean so hard into so many old fantasy tropes with, what I see as, no real reason other than lazy writing. To me, it felt like these tropes were kept so Addison didn't have to worldbuild as much, and could instead rely on the readers' preconceived notions of how these systems work to be able to signal and guide readers' understanding of the politics.
I think I'd be willing to read more from Addison, but I would want to see a more novel idea and more novel world from them. THE GOBLIN EMPEROR feels very...classic-rooted, is the nice way to say it I guess, and I would be interesting to see how they write more original worlds.
A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers
I read this with my queer book club but I'm sad to say I didn't love this (and, also embarrassed, because I am the one who suggested it).
I adored THE LONG WAY TO A SMALL ANGRY PLANET -- it had such a rich depth of feeling and connection, both between characters, and for readers to the characters. A PSALM FOR THE WILD-BUILT, in contrast, felt so...shallow.
Maybe I shouldn't have gone into this thinking about how much I liked Chambers' debut, but A PSALM FOR THE WILD-BUILT was missing teeth. I wanted it to have more punch. I firmly believe that even a book that's supposed to be somewhat revolutionary* in how it centers on joy and happiness, there can be passion and emotion and something that really makes you feel deeply. But this story was so measured, so intentionally peaceful, that it was hard for me to feel connected to the characters and hard for me to really feel invested in Dex's story.
And I don't disagree that they had a journey. The book was fine! It was a novella! It did what it intended to do! It just didn't really click with me, and I think I would have enjoyed it a lot more if it was longer and had more meat.
I can see why so many people liked A PSALM FOR THE WILD-BUILT, but it honestly just didn't click with me. I found it kind of boring and a little forgettable, and I'm not really sure I would pick up the sequel.
(I also have weird feelings about vague Asian aesthetics being used, but I don't really mean this as a criticism or have anything substantial to back my claims. I think part of it is just the fact that it's a Feifei Ruan cover - and I'm glad that she's not being pigeonholed into only making covers and art for Asian content! - but in some ways it does feel misleading that this might be about an Asian nonbinary character but is also so vague, so alternate-world, that Chambers doesn't have to commit and can just vaguely include various topics that are not exclusively Asian, but are oftentimes related to Asian culture. Like tea. I don't know. Like I said, this isn't really meant to be a direct criticism, the vibes are just a little weird to me but I might just be overly sensitive.)
* caveat that being regarded as revolutionary for writing a soothing, gentle, joy-focused book is not really fair praise, as authors of color are largely still not afforded these opportunities nor do they get lauded the fact.
I adored THE LONG WAY TO A SMALL ANGRY PLANET -- it had such a rich depth of feeling and connection, both between characters, and for readers to the characters. A PSALM FOR THE WILD-BUILT, in contrast, felt so...shallow.
Maybe I shouldn't have gone into this thinking about how much I liked Chambers' debut, but A PSALM FOR THE WILD-BUILT was missing teeth. I wanted it to have more punch. I firmly believe that even a book that's supposed to be somewhat revolutionary* in how it centers on joy and happiness, there can be passion and emotion and something that really makes you feel deeply. But this story was so measured, so intentionally peaceful, that it was hard for me to feel connected to the characters and hard for me to really feel invested in Dex's story.
And I don't disagree that they had a journey. The book was fine! It was a novella! It did what it intended to do! It just didn't really click with me, and I think I would have enjoyed it a lot more if it was longer and had more meat.
I can see why so many people liked A PSALM FOR THE WILD-BUILT, but it honestly just didn't click with me. I found it kind of boring and a little forgettable, and I'm not really sure I would pick up the sequel.
(I also have weird feelings about vague Asian aesthetics being used, but I don't really mean this as a criticism or have anything substantial to back my claims. I think part of it is just the fact that it's a Feifei Ruan cover - and I'm glad that she's not being pigeonholed into only making covers and art for Asian content! - but in some ways it does feel misleading that this might be about an Asian nonbinary character but is also so vague, so alternate-world, that Chambers doesn't have to commit and can just vaguely include various topics that are not exclusively Asian, but are oftentimes related to Asian culture. Like tea. I don't know. Like I said, this isn't really meant to be a direct criticism, the vibes are just a little weird to me but I might just be overly sensitive.)
* caveat that being regarded as revolutionary for writing a soothing, gentle, joy-focused book is not really fair praise, as authors of color are largely still not afforded these opportunities nor do they get lauded the fact.
The Lotus Palace by Jeannie Lin
5.0
I loved this! It was exactly what I wanted to scratch the itch of romance set in historical China. A nice level of romance between a no-nonsense heroine and golden retriever hero, with a hefty dose of intrigue and murder. About to devour all of Jeannie Lin's backlist now!
Content Warnings
Content Warnings: dissociation during intimacy that had verbal consent given but wasn't really wanted by the heroine, murder, slavery, prostitution, classism, violence
That Time I Got Drunk And Saved A Demon by Kimberly Lemming
I can see why a lot of people like this book--it's fun and doesn't take itself too seriously, letting you enjoy the shenanigans of Cin, Fallon, and everyone else who joins them along the way.
At the same time, it felt a little...unpolished to me? I think my biggest criticism is that I felt like there was a lot of whiplash: both moods and scenes would change very quickly, almost in a manic way, which is very in line with Cin's character, and I was hoping for something a little smoother. It almost felt like a Wattpad novel, for lack of better description. I don't say that as a denigrating descriptor, more of an observation that THAT TIME I GOT DRUNK AND SAVED A DEMON shares a lot of qualities with the Wattpad novels that I consumed voraciously as a teen. From the pithy title (anyone remember I SOLD MY SOUL TO THE DEVIL FOR VINYLS...PITIFUL, I KNOW?) to the fast and loose worldbuilding, THAT TIME I GOT DRUNK AND SAVED A DEMON is something that's written purely for enjoyment, regardless of how silly the plot ends up being. I appreciate that a lot about this, and wholeheartedly agree that we need more of books that don't take themselves too seriously.
Still, the book just felt a little...immature. From the not-like-other-girls start to the random rape threats by burglars to the possessive super powerful demon dragon mate, I felt like the tropes did end up a little overboard.
I think I'd be excited to read other things Lemming writes, especially as they mature more as a writer, but I'll admit that THAT TIME I GOT DRUNK AND SAVED A DEMON wasn't quite in my ballpark. I definitely think if the story appeals to you, you should try it, though!
(Also, can we talk about how the Orbit cover is not canon compliant? It drives me a little nuts. When Cin's hair is pink, she has braids. The braids only get taken out when the pink dye is already grown out, like the original cover shows...)
At the same time, it felt a little...unpolished to me? I think my biggest criticism is that I felt like there was a lot of whiplash: both moods and scenes would change very quickly, almost in a manic way, which is very in line with Cin's character, and I was hoping for something a little smoother. It almost felt like a Wattpad novel, for lack of better description. I don't say that as a denigrating descriptor, more of an observation that THAT TIME I GOT DRUNK AND SAVED A DEMON shares a lot of qualities with the Wattpad novels that I consumed voraciously as a teen. From the pithy title (anyone remember I SOLD MY SOUL TO THE DEVIL FOR VINYLS...PITIFUL, I KNOW?) to the fast and loose worldbuilding, THAT TIME I GOT DRUNK AND SAVED A DEMON is something that's written purely for enjoyment, regardless of how silly the plot ends up being. I appreciate that a lot about this, and wholeheartedly agree that we need more of books that don't take themselves too seriously.
Still, the book just felt a little...immature. From the not-like-other-girls start to the random rape threats by burglars to the possessive super powerful demon dragon mate, I felt like the tropes did end up a little overboard.
I think I'd be excited to read other things Lemming writes, especially as they mature more as a writer, but I'll admit that THAT TIME I GOT DRUNK AND SAVED A DEMON wasn't quite in my ballpark. I definitely think if the story appeals to you, you should try it, though!
(Also, can we talk about how the Orbit cover is not canon compliant? It drives me a little nuts. When Cin's hair is pink, she has braids. The braids only get taken out when the pink dye is already grown out, like the original cover shows...)
The City Inside by Samit Basu
I went into this knowing that a lot of people didn't actually enjoy it (3.2 is a depressingly low rating), but I was still intrigued by the premise and wanted to read it anyways.
And, after finishing the story, I can see why it hasn't appealed to the general audience -- the worldbuilding feels clunky, overburdened with loads of near-future dystopian references (I'm making these up, but think of things like AI cheer-up chatbots and neural-linked auto-responsive sex toys and nanotech fat reducing implants and whatever mashup of tech, science, and other jargon you can think of) that are mentioned off-hand and rarely delved into. While on the other hand, the relevant near-future technology (the concept of Flow being essentially social media, with Flowers (pronounced Flow-ers, not like flowers) being influencers) is, in my opinion, woefully underdiscussed.
The reader is essentially thrust into this world of Joey's where she's a "Reality Controller" -- which is essentially some near-future amalgamation of manager, social media consultant, video editor, script writer, and producer for Flow influencers. In the beginning, it can be hard to pick through all the worldbuilding and understand what is relevant and meaningful, and what's essentially atmospheric fluff.
But, even still, I did actually think the underlying concepts of the story were interesting. Basu essentially builds up this story of Joey, who wants to make meaningful change, but lives in a surveillance state where even your toothbrush spies on you and sends your data to outside parties, where hired cleaning services will bug your house, where everyone has smartatts that monitor your well being. She struggles with her parents -- who didn't grow up in a surveillance state and remembers times where rebellion could happen in outspoken ways, or at least could be discussed within the privacy of one's own home. She struggles with her own privilege of having a job managing an influencer who is her ex, the danger that her family's domestic helper is in when she goes to protests but doesn't let Joey come, and the inequalities around her. But the message is somewhat shrouded -- both because Joey herself isn't able to express these views in the surveillance state she lives in, and also because of Basu's chaotic worldbuilding.
Still, I felt like I was able to pick up on Joey's subtle thread of rebellion, so the direction the novella goes wasn't unsurprising. I liked how Rudra's story ties in as well, although he is more minor of a protagonist than Joey.
The heart of THE CITY INSIDE is something interesting and thought-provoking -- leading readers to question the nature of rebellion, data privacy, and where our world might go. But the execution will turn off many readers who will struggle with the overwhelming nature of this near-future dystopian world, its complex geopolitical landscape, and its plethora of ungrounded references.
And, after finishing the story, I can see why it hasn't appealed to the general audience -- the worldbuilding feels clunky, overburdened with loads of near-future dystopian references (I'm making these up, but think of things like AI cheer-up chatbots and neural-linked auto-responsive sex toys and nanotech fat reducing implants and whatever mashup of tech, science, and other jargon you can think of) that are mentioned off-hand and rarely delved into. While on the other hand, the relevant near-future technology (the concept of Flow being essentially social media, with Flowers (pronounced Flow-ers, not like flowers) being influencers) is, in my opinion, woefully underdiscussed.
The reader is essentially thrust into this world of Joey's where she's a "Reality Controller" -- which is essentially some near-future amalgamation of manager, social media consultant, video editor, script writer, and producer for Flow influencers. In the beginning, it can be hard to pick through all the worldbuilding and understand what is relevant and meaningful, and what's essentially atmospheric fluff.
But, even still, I did actually think the underlying concepts of the story were interesting. Basu essentially builds up this story of Joey, who wants to make meaningful change, but lives in a surveillance state where even your toothbrush spies on you and sends your data to outside parties, where hired cleaning services will bug your house, where everyone has smartatts that monitor your well being. She struggles with her parents -- who didn't grow up in a surveillance state and remembers times where rebellion could happen in outspoken ways, or at least could be discussed within the privacy of one's own home. She struggles with her own privilege of having a job managing an influencer who is her ex, the danger that her family's domestic helper is in when she goes to protests but doesn't let Joey come, and the inequalities around her. But the message is somewhat shrouded -- both because Joey herself isn't able to express these views in the surveillance state she lives in, and also because of Basu's chaotic worldbuilding.
Still, I felt like I was able to pick up on Joey's subtle thread of rebellion, so the direction the novella goes wasn't unsurprising. I liked how Rudra's story ties in as well, although he is more minor of a protagonist than Joey.
The heart of THE CITY INSIDE is something interesting and thought-provoking -- leading readers to question the nature of rebellion, data privacy, and where our world might go. But the execution will turn off many readers who will struggle with the overwhelming nature of this near-future dystopian world, its complex geopolitical landscape, and its plethora of ungrounded references.
Content Warnings
Content Warnings: rape, body modifications, genocide, surveillance state, trafficking, mentions of slavery, racism, classism, homophobia
Minor Detail by Adania Shibli
5.0
At first I didn't understand why Shibli wrote such a distinct divide between the first part (Summer of 1949) and the second near-present day part, but upon finishing the work, I feel like Shibli was very much affirmed in the choice to structure the story that way. Without the full context of the first part, a lot of the second part would have fallen flat -- the reader wouldn't be able to understand the symbolism of a lot of the imagery Shibli builds (the yellow bottom of a girl in a photograph, the dogs, the old woman, even the strong water pressure in the guest house).
Shibli does an expert job of weaving a story that highlights the suffering of Palestinian people under occupation and the gruesome colonial history behind it. I can't comment on the accuracy of the translation by Elisabeth Jaquette, but the story felt meticulously written, every scene, every motif chosen with intent.
Siiri Scott did a great job with the narration, especially in the second half.
Listened at 1.7x speed on Libro.fm.
Shibli does an expert job of weaving a story that highlights the suffering of Palestinian people under occupation and the gruesome colonial history behind it. I can't comment on the accuracy of the translation by Elisabeth Jaquette, but the story felt meticulously written, every scene, every motif chosen with intent.
Siiri Scott did a great job with the narration, especially in the second half.
Listened at 1.7x speed on Libro.fm.
Content Warnings
Content Warnings: murder, rape, guns, colonialism
Rouge by Mona Awad
I'm pretty apathetic towards this book. There were some parts I liked, some parts I didn't like. Some parts I understood, some parts that were confusing. Some parts that felt too direct, some parts that felt too subtle.
I haven't read Mona Awad's debut, but ROUGE was...a book. Sometimes I felt like it was really deep and emotional, like the way that Awad explored Belle's relationship with her mother and all the nuances within, especially within the context of the ending. That her mother (who is white, while Belle is biracial with an Egyptian father) was racist -- buying Belle music like Walk Like an Egyptian and putting on 'ethnic' clothes like a costume. But at the same time, her mother was trying to shield her from pressures surrounding conventional beauty and similar topics, and Belle was grieving her death.
But sometimes it felt super trite -- the way Belle obsessed over beauty wasn't explored as deeply as I liked, despite it being tied directly into Belle's biracial identity and obsession with beauty being a huge part of the book.
Sometimes the book felt dreamy, with a rich, dark fairytale-esque quality, while other times, it felt too obvious in what it was trying to do. For example, it felt too blunt the way Awad kept integrating the ominous slip-of-the-tongues in, without there really being any direct connection between a lot of the slips-of-the-tongue (sever, for instance) to what I felt like was happening to cause the phenomenon.
I thought the plotline with Hud Hunter (? is that his name) was a little obvious, but not inexcusable. In a way, it was almost comforting; serving as an expected normality, a tiny thread for the reader to hold onto among many different confusing elements and say, "Yes, I know what the fuck is happening because at least I know/can guess what Hud Hunter is doing." Was it cliche? Sure. But cliches are fun and keep readers engaged. I shudder to think what would become of ROUGE without the Hud Hunter storyline to push it along.
I don't think there's necessarily anything wrong with confusing books or storylines (other than confusing books are inherently harder to keep readers engaged, but that doesn't mean they're bad books). But I felt like it was hard to sometimes see where the story was going to go in the beginning. It makes sense in the end, but for the first half, I mostly felt like I was being bombarded with mysterious elements without any crumbs to keep me reading, other than willpower that I didn't want to DNF another book.
The one shining part of ROUGE was all the symbolism -- it was the one thing I felt Awad did really well in a distinct and meaningful fashion. I think with the story, it would have been very easy for another writer to fall back on something overly gory, instead of building up symbolism to make something dark and creepy, but not blood-soaked. This isn't a book about blood. This is a book about hearts and roses and souls and mirrors.
I did think I also enjoyed the ending -- it was satisfying and a little comforting and validated a lot of the symbolism that Awad set up. But was the reading experience worth it? Ehh.
ROUGE is a lot of mystery, a little bit cult-y, a little bit fairytale, a little bit introspective mother-daughter fiction. I think if the summary appeals to you, you should go for it, but I think a lot of "average" readers won't quite click with ROUGE. It's one of those books that you either love or you feel very apathetic to.
I did think Sophie Amoss' narration was great and she executed a lot of the linguistic details (slip-of-the-tongues) very well, as well as immersed you in the story. Thanks to Libro.fm for the complimentary copy! I listened on 2-2.3x speed.
I haven't read Mona Awad's debut, but ROUGE was...a book. Sometimes I felt like it was really deep and emotional, like the way that Awad explored Belle's relationship with her mother and all the nuances within, especially within the context of the ending. That her mother (who is white, while Belle is biracial with an Egyptian father) was racist -- buying Belle music like Walk Like an Egyptian and putting on 'ethnic' clothes like a costume. But at the same time, her mother was trying to shield her from pressures surrounding conventional beauty and similar topics, and Belle was grieving her death.
But sometimes it felt super trite -- the way Belle obsessed over beauty wasn't explored as deeply as I liked, despite it being tied directly into Belle's biracial identity and obsession with beauty being a huge part of the book.
Sometimes the book felt dreamy, with a rich, dark fairytale-esque quality, while other times, it felt too obvious in what it was trying to do. For example, it felt too blunt the way Awad kept integrating the ominous slip-of-the-tongues in, without there really being any direct connection between a lot of the slips-of-the-tongue (sever, for instance) to what I felt like was happening to cause the phenomenon.
I thought the plotline with Hud Hunter (? is that his name) was a little obvious, but not inexcusable. In a way, it was almost comforting; serving as an expected normality, a tiny thread for the reader to hold onto among many different confusing elements and say, "Yes, I know what the fuck is happening because at least I know/can guess what Hud Hunter is doing." Was it cliche? Sure. But cliches are fun and keep readers engaged. I shudder to think what would become of ROUGE without the Hud Hunter storyline to push it along.
I don't think there's necessarily anything wrong with confusing books or storylines (other than confusing books are inherently harder to keep readers engaged, but that doesn't mean they're bad books). But I felt like it was hard to sometimes see where the story was going to go in the beginning. It makes sense in the end, but for the first half, I mostly felt like I was being bombarded with mysterious elements without any crumbs to keep me reading, other than willpower that I didn't want to DNF another book.
The one shining part of ROUGE was all the symbolism -- it was the one thing I felt Awad did really well in a distinct and meaningful fashion. I think with the story, it would have been very easy for another writer to fall back on something overly gory, instead of building up symbolism to make something dark and creepy, but not blood-soaked. This isn't a book about blood. This is a book about hearts and roses and souls and mirrors.
I did think I also enjoyed the ending -- it was satisfying and a little comforting and validated a lot of the symbolism that Awad set up. But was the reading experience worth it? Ehh.
ROUGE is a lot of mystery, a little bit cult-y, a little bit fairytale, a little bit introspective mother-daughter fiction. I think if the summary appeals to you, you should go for it, but I think a lot of "average" readers won't quite click with ROUGE. It's one of those books that you either love or you feel very apathetic to.
I did think Sophie Amoss' narration was great and she executed a lot of the linguistic details (slip-of-the-tongues) very well, as well as immersed you in the story. Thanks to Libro.fm for the complimentary copy! I listened on 2-2.3x speed.
Content Warnings
Content Warnings: very prominent obsession with conventional beauty standards, racism (internalized and overt), death of a parent, skin whitening, death, murder, memory-loss, near-deadly allergic reaction, attempted murder