I think Carissa Broadbent’s pitch for this book was probably just “Vampire Hunger Games.� With a firm and confident mic drop at the end. She must haveI think Carissa Broadbent’s pitch for this book was probably just “Vampire Hunger Games.� With a firm and confident mic drop at the end. She must have known she was on to something. She must have known readers wouldn’t be able to resist the concept—the curiosity. I certainly couldn’t. And I am more than happy to say yes, I was seduced by this book, and I’m ready to be seduced by the sequel.
Our protagonist: Oraya, the adopted daughter of the Nightborn vampire king, and often affectionately referred to as the eponymous ‘serpent� by said adopted father. Oraya is who initially drew my interest in this story, as we are introduced to her as an orphaned child and soon learn why she earns her nickname. She is feisty and does everything she can to ensure her survival from day one, and her character growth over the course of the story is wonderful. Is Oraya a bit of a Katniss? Yeah, and that’s okay. She’s the “action girl� hero with a cracking bit of depth to her, but where as your typical Katniss character tends to exude a sharp kind of melancholy, Oraya exhibits straight up messy anger. Like a serpent she is defensive, quick to attack, and occasionally spits venom (I can’t say I loved the tone of her frequent insults). But she’s also fragile—she lives in a world where she is constantly under threat, the only human in a society of vampires. I loved that her very real vulnerability made up a significant portion of the plot, as well as her character development, in what was a very intimate portrayal with safety and mortality. This is really what drives her, as her goal is to gain power through entering the Kejari: a legendary tournament held by the goddess of death herself. Battling vicious warriors from all three vampire houses to win the grand prize is basically suicide, and Oraya is forced to make an alliance with a mysterious rival—Raihn, her greatest competition.
What I think Broadbent did so well here was balance. The story held an excellently crafted blend of the immediate action of the Kejari, the building tension of the larger plot, the unravelling of Oraya’s character complexity, and a slow-burn romance as the cherry on top. Everything held my attention, intrigued me and enthralled me, exactly where it needed to, and i was left gagging for the next instalment.
Absolutely believe the hype, ACOTAR fans. Not one to sleep on....more
And she’s done it again. Kristin Hannah’s latest is a genuine and moving tear-jerker that I struggled to put down. In true Kristin Hannah fashion, TheAnd she’s done it again. Kristin Hannah’s latest is a genuine and moving tear-jerker that I struggled to put down. In true Kristin Hannah fashion, The Four Winds is a bold story of women, survival, and though it is set almost 100 years in the past, the message could not be more relevant in 2022.
“A warrior believes in an end she can’t see and fights for it. A warrior never gives up. A warrior fights for those weaker than herself.It sounds like motherhood to me.�
I have never read a novel about The Great Depression. For obvious reasons, really, bit depressing. I’m glad this was my first one; The Four Winds honestly was an experience. Hannah paints such an extraordinary picture of the American Dust Bowl in the 1930s that I could near-feel the dirt in my lungs, the burning sun crisping my skin. She weaves a story of hardship, loss, and pain through the journey of Elsa Martinelli, a single mother and a character so wonderfully human I wanted to hug her through every page. It is not a short story, and at the same time it wasn’t long enough.
Elsa Martinelli has lived in Texas her whole life. When she conceives out of wedlock, her family disowns her, leaving her to marry a man she fools herself into believing she loves and moving in with his family on their farm. It doesn’t turn out too badly though, she gains a loving relationship with her in-laws and births two children, Loreda and Anthony. But by 1934, the world has changed. A crippling drought sweeps over the South, ruining crops and forcing the population into poverty. Frequent dust storms plague the farm, causing drawn-out deaths from dust pneumonia. People are leaving, migrating to California where many say there is work, salvation. But Elsa can’t bear to leave all she’s ever known.
Elsa’s husband, wildly depressed, would rather take that risk than die miserable and hungry on the farm. He ups and leaves his wife, children, and parents in the middle of the night and is never heard from again. Elsa not only has to deal with the end of her marriage, but now she has to step up as a single mother to two kids, one of which hates her and blames her mother for her father leaving. That’s a heck of a lot of dynamics to manage, and they blend together beautifully. Elsa, with a long history of rejection, has to learn to believe in herself when the stakes are at their highest, and not only ensure her children’s survival, but to teach them what happens beyond survival: bravery, morals, and the courage to embrace change.
The sharp bite of poverty is the largest character in this book. And it stings much harder to realise that Elsa’s story really isn’t remarkable. The suffering she and her family go through, from starvation on a dying farm in Texas to a brand new world deprivation more directly at the hands of capitalists in California, is neither fictional nor unique. Elsa’s horrors are the horrors of millions in The Great Depression, and many of these problems still haven’t been solved 100 years on. I don’t like to call these kinds of survival stories “inspiring�, it doesn’t sit quite right, but there is something to be said for the message Elsa leaves us with by the end of her story. Her greatest act of strength is not the hard work, the adaptability, the scrimping and saving, it is the strength to recognise the exploitation she is trapped in and finding the courage to stand against it, hoping beyond all hope that there can and will be a better future....more
This is quite possibly my favourite Health book of all time. A bold claim, but the scope of this book, everything the author delved into and how brillThis is quite possibly my favourite Health book of all time. A bold claim, but the scope of this book, everything the author delved into and how brilliantly he explained everything was remarkable. And as far as non-fiction, goes I don't think I have ever felt so compelled by a read.
Dr Andrew Jenkinson is a bariatric surgeon and this book covers his perspective and research on the epidemic of obesity. It's clear than Jenkinson is passionate about the subject, and it was refreshing to read a take that does not seek to blame the individual for their weight gain. Jenkinson acknowledges that there are so many important factors that contribute to weight gain that have nothing to do with willpower, laziness, greed, or all the horrible things obese people are labelled - which do far more harm than good. That said, for someone whose work and interest revolves around obese people, Jenkinson isn't always that great at empathising with them.
"The room darkened for a moment and I looked up from my notes. Mr Freeman’s large frame and body had blanketed out the light coming through the door frame."
This was one of those times where I appreciated that the author did not infuse too much of their personality into their book! The vast majority of this book is focused on Jenkinson's research, with only a few anecdotes about his work sprinkled in for flavour. (Could've done without, but anyway.) Jenkinson's approach covers a vast number of topics: metabology, endocrinology, genetics, evolution, and food culture to name only a few. And my God was it all so interesting. I was astounded by how much of this information I'd never heard before. And how so much of it contradicts all of the mainstream 'diet advice' that saturates our society. And how - oh my - all you need is a quick Google search to see that oh! people have been talking about all this, but it was so hard to hear them over the din of fad diets and weight shaming.
We We Eat (Too Much) is a great starting-point book for further personal research on your weight loss journey. Understanding my own biology has been a massive part of my weight loss journey, and this book was an incredible help. Excellently-written and easy to understand, with game-changing research and health advice. Highly recommend....more
**spoiler alert** If you enjoyed that 2001 blockbuster Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind ... then maybe consider watching that again, it's ever so**spoiler alert** If you enjoyed that 2001 blockbuster Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind ... then maybe consider watching that again, it's ever so good. What's not good, however, is this book. Its plot is literally exactly the same except, somehow, shittier. Way shittier. And also includes a very brutal dog murder on page 286. And that's not even the half of it. Welcome to: This Book Was Not For Me and Now You Have to Hear About It!
Emmett Farmer is ... a farmer. Yes, that just about sums up the amount of creativity this author put into the character, for Emmett Farmer the farmer is duller than a lump of mud. He's the type of guy who, as a friend of mine brilliantly quipped, is utterly flummoxed by the world he lives in, every day of his life. He didn't start off well in my eyes, having fainted twice in the same chapter. And as the story progressed, so did his tendency to do a really fun thing where half of his dialogue literally involves just ... stating the obvious.
“You can’t set fire to the house while she’s in it. That’s murder.�
The boy would not even emote. And when he finally did start, it felt so very forced - and the author seemed to want to refuse to focus on his feelings, but would settle with describing in detail the reactions in his body. And she did this all the time, it was weird.
"At first it was an involuntary as being sick: great paroxysms like retching, each spasm driven by an unpitying reflex that made me gasp and sob for air. But slowly the urgency eased, and I had the time to catch a lungful of air between sobs; and then at last I wiped the wetness and snot off my face, and opened my eyes. The sense of loss was still sharp enough to make the tears rise again, but I blinked them away and this time I managed to master my breath."
Three very long lines and I still have no idea what this guy is actually feeling. Other than sad.
You may be wondering, at this point in the review, what the hell the plot of this novel is and, honestly SAME. The premise was actually very intriguing: Emmett is chosen to become a Binder's apprentice, someone who creates books - special books - which are considered immoral by all. Naturally, there is an unhealthy amount of "let's not tell the protagonist what these books are, even though he is literally learning to make them right now, he still mustn't know until the halfway point of this novel". So it was wonderful and not at all annoying as hell to watch Emmett blunder around, stating the obvious yet still missing it at the same time. Another spoiler for you: these books contain people's memories.
So at this point, the only thing keeping me going was the promise of a good reveal, at this point. The MC infuriated me, the setup was cringe, the world-building was non-existent (the synopsis calls it "a place vaguely reminiscent of 19th-century England" - see, even the synopsis doesn't know!) and the only thing that did not annoy me was the perfectly adequate style of prose, which was very easy to slip into. I had learned from the synopsis that the twist in this story is that Emmett one day discovers a book that has his name on it and, yes, I wanted to see what all that was about. I had a theory that his entire personality would come flooding back to him if he opened the book, and he would remember his exciting former escapades as a Highwayman, and the reason he had chosen to hide his memories in a book was to outrun the law! Or, you know, something groovy like that.
Can you see where I'm going with this?
It becomes clear, after 100+ pages of preamble and nothing more, that actually what he had been forced to forget was ... his love affair with a man.
Now. Let's unpack this.
Seems like I stumbled upon a Romance novel disguised as a mystery pseudo-fantasy. Bit rude, considering I never sign up to read Romance, but since this book wasn't marketed as one, I'm not going to review it as one. Who knows, to some it may be a very fulfilling love story. Me, I wanted a plot. Spoiler alert: there was none - all that followed was the a highly toxic relationship between two young men and a fight to remember each other. Why were they fighting to remember each other? I shall tell you.
Turns out, in whatever world this story takes place ("a place vaguely reminiscent of bla bla bla") homosexuality is awful, and all that jazz. That's right, when author Bridget Collins was faced with the prospect of, you know, building her world, she sat down and thought "well, there'll be an inkling of magic that I'll never bother to really explain, and I will rely on deeply ingrained prejudices in our world to help move my little love story along."
Do we get any sort of explanation as to why two men loving each other is so wrong? Do we get any form of social commentary that focuses on dismantling this terrible relief? Does the story have a satisfying conclusion wherein the protagonist confronts the homophobes and, well, does something?
I know you can see where I'm going with this.
What we do get is a nice little passage that implies sexuality is a choice and being gay is the worst thing you could ever dread to be.
"Whatever I did, I chose to get rid of it. I chose. All the things my father does - it must be worse than that, worse than anything I can imagine ... So don't you dare tell me that I should want it back."
Yes, this character (the lover, Lucian) forgot about his love affair and claims that whatever he forgot must be worse than the shit his father pulls, which at the moment we know is: woohoo - rape!
Do we get a bit of commentary about internalised homophobia?? Do we get a plot that involves addressing inner trauma, confronting the bigoted pillars of this 'world', and emerging victorious? Nooooooooooooo!
Then why. the fuck. would you put. a line like that. in your story? What was the point of the whole thing?! What is this story attempting to achieve? What do these characters actually do apart from dance around their very gay feelings for each other? Well, they act like proper dicks for the entire 400+ pages and then can't be bothered to stop rapes and murders and then aww in the end they do love each other.
This story is nothing more than a thinly veiled Paranormal Romance. Except that Paranormal writers put far more effort into their world-building. And LGBTQIA+ creators are far more responsible with their representation. Come on Collins, I appreciate that you wanted to throw a little diversity into the mainstream, but this is irresponsible and damaging! You lure absolutely anyone to your story, which is supposed to just be some sort of magical mystery, and you ambush us all with a very tragic gay love story in a world full of homophobes - which no one signed up for. And I'm not even going to mention the rest of the disturbing content which, in 2020, have we not all agreed to do trigger warnings for??
In short: this book can 100% do one.
I don't do zero-star reviews as I save those for the books I DNF (a.k.a not finished, not rated). So here's one obligatory star for you, Collins. Maybe you can spend it on a sensitivity reader....more
Marketed as "genre-changing blend of fantasy, horror, and folkore" (and no that typo is not mine, it's from the blurb), The Call 100% grabbed my aMarketed as "genre-changing blend of fantasy, horror, and folkore" (and no that typo is not mine, it's from the blurb), The Call 100% grabbed my attention from the concept alone. In this version of semi-dystopian Ireland, the Sidhe are targeting teenagers; "calling" them to their world for three minutes before sending them back. Almost none return home alive. And protagonist Nessa may be disabled, but she is determined to train, determined to win, and to be one of the few to survive The Call.I was simultaneously impressed and disappointed by this novel. What I loved was the concept; the idea of The Call felt very Hunger Games, very Maze Runner-ish. And it was exciting: who's going to be called? When are they going to disappear from their world and appear stark naked in the Grey Land, the grotesque world of the Sidhe and have to run/fight/hide for their life?? And the world-building was incredible; such an imaginative world to place us in, inhabited by fantastic villains who genuinely frightened me a little bit! It was so refreshing to read a story about murderous, evil Fae, instead of the romanticised, sparkly Fae that dominate the YA genre these days. This was different, and brilliantly portrayed. I was hooked from page one, and the pacing kept me enraptured, kept me guessing and kept me scared.
But that didn't hold out forever, unfortunately. I think my biggest issue was that the protagonist, Nessa, didn't really feel like a protagonist. On paper, she sounds awesome. Badass disabled teen who slaps a guy in the face with her crutch - what's not to love! But in the end, we barely even passed surface level with her. She felt about as developed as the rest of the characters around her, which isn't saying much truth be told. She didn't really have any influence over the story or even accomplish that much throughout - and there was no character arc, no progression of her personal story. I feel like the author ticked all the boxes but then sort of forgot to follow through, which is a real shame because it did end up affecting my enjoyment of the story. By the end, I just wanted her to participate in the story more and I was just waiting and waiting and ... then I did some more waiting until finally ... she sort of did a thing. And then that was it. Utterly anticlimactic and actually quite frustrating.
At the end of the day, I think this book was written for the mass-market: readers who want a fast pace, some high stakes and a little bit of a shock factor. And that, it does well. But for my tastes, it didn't quite deliver, and it absolutely did not live up to the rave reviews on the blurb - "perfect for fans of Game of Thrones"!? Buzzfeed, what were you thinking? Nevertheless, it was enjoyable for what it was. It was thrilling and creative, and a little bit of a scare. I just think if the plot had been restructured a bit and more time was spent on the main characters, this one would be a real winner....more
� "And no matter how desperate or dire, never pray to the gods that answer after dark."
The Invisible Life of Addie La Rue is the most enchanting relea
� "And no matter how desperate or dire, never pray to the gods that answer after dark."
The Invisible Life of Addie La Rue is the most enchanting release of 2020. I love a premise that sets up a question, one speculative element that creates a whole story. In V.E. Schwab's latest adult novel, that question is: what if you were cursed to be forgotten by everyone you ever meet?
In 18th century France, Addie LaRue is forced into a marriage she does not want. Willing to sacrifice anything to avoid a life in captivity, Addie makes a Faustian bargain for her freedom. She is willing to trade her soul for an eternal life living by her own rules, but The Darkness will not agree without a time limit.
� “You want an ending,� she says. “Then take my life when I am done with it. You can have my soul when I don’t want it anymore.�
The Darkness is intrigued by her offer, enticed by a new game. He grants her wish to become immortal, but in turn she is cursed to be forgotten by everyone has ever known, or will ever meet again.
One of the most compelling premises I have ever come across, and the story absolutely did not disappoint. The prose is indulgently purple, the similies were plentiful (three to an e-page at times, I counted), but the floweryness of the writing is the perfect fit for the type of story this is. It's a slow walk along a river, it's a late evening spent in good company, it's a reflection on a what-if, but a reflection on ourselves as well. Who are we, without our relation to others? How do you build a meaningful life when it's almost like you don't exist? And, in Addie's own words,
� “What is a person, if not the marks they leave behind?�
I loved how the story is laid out, jumping back and forth between Addie's early years struggling with immortality and the consequences of being forgotten, and present day when she meets another special character - Henry, the first person to remember her in three hundred years. As a character, Addie is not exactly overflowing with personality. She is a muted character, but her quietness worked with the quietness of the story, and she shows a lot of quiet strength in her own ways - and that was refreshing to read about. The non-linear set-up really works for the story, as we can learn about Addie's early pain and troubles, but skip to in and out of her future where she has overcome, learnt, and devised her own manner of making her way in the world. I was really invested the minutia of her life - I wanted to know how she could eat, how she could afford anything, how was she going to solve this problem and the next? But where I was most compelled were when it came to Addie's relationships. There are many throughout the novel, and no matter how small, all are poignant. Her biggest relationship is the one she has with the Devil who granted her wish, who shows up every year on their anniversary, to see if she is ready to hand over her soul. The story of a human and the Darkness they make a deal with is nothing new, but in Schwab's hand it is fresh and peculiar and intimate - and just fantastic to read.
� “Do not mistake this—any of it—for kindness, Adeline.� His eyes go bright with mischief. “I simply want to be the one who breaks you.�
Though I loved their dynamic, the game they played for Addie's soul, their whole relationship, really ... I feel like it could have been structured better. We do get to a point in the novel where the Devil is just showing up in each consecutive chapter, dancing the same dance, throwing her the same lines and arrogance, not really progressing the story or their relationship in a meaningful way. This did slightly impact my enjoyment of that particular subplot, just because the repetition got so tedious. Another area I didn't connect with so much was Henry's storyline. I really liked what he represented, his struggles with mental health and addiction were very well portrayed. But as a character, he didn't grab me. He, much like Addie, was a quiet character, but in Henry's case he needed to be a bit louder because I just could not hear him - connect with him. We got a lot of backstory on Henry (and his friend circle which, to be honest, didn't bring anything to the table - they were just annoying), and for me, it just turned into a bit of a skip-fest. I kind of wish we had just stuck with Addie and her POV for the whole book; that said, the Henry chapters definitely had their moments, so that's not a hill I'll be dying on!
Though I may have stumbled over a few parts in this story, my whole reading experience was nevertheless and absolute delight from start to finish. This is one story that will never be forgotten, even if its title character is cursed to be. It is lyrical and melodic, genius in its own quiet way, and will stir up thoughts inside anyone who opens its pages. A real gem of a novel, not one to miss out on....more
Mere months ago, it was announced that the highly, highly anticipated prequel to The Hunger Games was to star none other than the prick that (basiMere months ago, it was announced that the highly, highly anticipated prequel to The Hunger Games was to star none other than the prick that (basically) started them: President Snow.
Now.
I had a few feelings about this. Disappointment was one of them. And I wasn't alone. The internet, in a rare (!) move, turned divisive: some sad they were not going to be in for the treat of revisiting favourite characters and beloved themes; some fuming over the prospect of taking a deep dive into the POV of a despicable baddie; others twirling their pretentious moustaches and claiming to be above it all ("Honestly, am I the only one looking forward to an expertly crafted villain story, especially in a time of such socio-economic unrest in this country - surely we should relish the opportunity to walk a mile in the shoes of a genocidal fascist? You know, to better ourselves or something?")
Good grief, Barbara, jog the fuck on.
There is nothing wrong with a decent-to-villainy story, but if you're walking into a re-established fanbase brandishing a narrative that's the antithesis of the original trilogy ... you're gonna get some looks.
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Yes, I was gutted. The previous books are a classic 'little guy' squaring up to 'the man'; a brilliantly-written story of average people rising up and beating their oppressors. The Hunger Games was a massive inspiration for my generation and others, and in the year of our Lord 2020, God knows I was eager for another slice of that pie. I had less than zero desire to read about the early "heroic" days of the most poisonous villain in modern literature. And did I carry my bias with me as I picked up my kindle on release day? Yes. But did I also remember how much I loved Suzanne Collins as a writer and trusted her to do a good job anyway, ? Eh, just about.
Then Collins began with five epigraphs. Yes. Five. Another ... bold choice. And my doubt started to grow. And then I was attacked by an onslaught of filler verbs which I was absolutely not expecting, and I am not ashamed to admit I was a little triggered. My doubt grew some more.
By the end of chapter one, I was already playing a fun game of Count the Adjectives, while the other side of my brain was begging me not to judge Collins for her continuous infodump of a backstory. By the end of chapter two, I was cringing so hard I genuinely started to believe this book had been ghostwritten by a less talented author. This couldn't be the work of my beloved Suzanne Collins - the quality deficit was, quite frankly, shocking.
Let's unpack.
Coriolanus Snow (another choice) is a young and ambitious student hoping to be picked as a mentor for the upcoming 10th annual Hunger Games. His hope is to shake himself free of the hardships of the past and improve his social status, not to mention earn some damn cash. He and his family have been dirt poor since the war, and goddamn does he like to remind everyone about it. I can't tell you how many times the guy brought up the war (because I stopped counting) but let me tell you: uncle Albert would be proud of the numbers. By chapter three, I almost had to laugh at the absurdity. All it took was a character so something as mundane as pour a drink and Snow would just fall into a full-on PTSD flashback.
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I recognise that this book was likely written to give fans the world-building I do not recall them asking for, and obvious fan-service aside I think it does a decent job of fleshing out the history of Panem and throwing the audience some interesting tidbits. However, there is an art to how both backstory and world-building are carefully spoon-fed to the reader, and Collins' approach just made me feel like I was being fattened up for my foie gras.
So Snow is chosen as the mentor to - wouldn't you know it - the district 12 tribute, a young lady called Lucy Gray. Yet another choice, relegating the lead female character and *spoiler!* eventual victor of the 10th Hunger Games into nothing more than a love interest with very little personality other than an annoying habit of singing far too often. Lucy's potential victory becomes deeply-entwined with Snow's own, and their relationship is a discomfiting mix of romantic feelings and him using her to achieve his own means.
Now, I'm fully on board with the premise, but for the life of me I could not tell you if the decent-into-villainy was successfully executed because the whole thing was overshadowed by 600 pages of piss-poor writing.
For your pleasure, I shall now list my grievances:
- Snow never shuts up about how much he hates cabbages. Why does he never shut up about cabbages?
- On that note, please shut up about the damn war!
- The fact that basically 100 pages of a 600pp novel are nothing but song lyrics is a shameless display of arrogance.
- You're not even that good at poetry, Suzanne.
- This is how traumatic the war was for Snow, you guys. He was *abused*. No word of a lie: some dickhead stole his cabbage.
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- But it should be fine 'cuz I don't know if you know this but Snow hates cabbages. Can't stand 'em.
- For the love of God, who was your editor? Why the abundance of filler verbs? “He thought� appears 260 times.
- "Snow lands on top" is your family fucking mantra? Is that organically-sourced cringe, Suzanne?
- Call me crazy, but as this is a book that centres around the 10th Hunger Games, I was kinda looking forward to experiencing the 10th Hunger Games.
- I never would have expected Suzanne Collins of all people to go pro with distancing writing. Snow's mentee literally wins the Hunger Games and his singular reaction is “Right now, he felt invincible.�
Still somewhat convinced the story was written by someone else, I actually dug up my old copy of The Hunger Games to compare prose. Yes, I was that deep into my conspiracy theory. After a bit of Sherlocking, I did end up feeling less sure in my conviction, but I was reminded that Collins wrote the original trilogy in first person, which worked excellently. For some reason she chose to shrug off a technique she excels at and opted for third person. And she very clearly cannot pull it off. Not in the slightest.
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TL;DR: I clocked out. Once one of the most engaging trilogies to grace the YA shelves, this new addition to the Hunger Games saga was utterly disappointing. I couldn't tell you its positive points or what it was trying to achieve - in the end, anything decent was overshadowed by the horrendous writing and poor narrative choices. Considering we all know what Suzanne Collins is capable of, A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes is simply not good enough....more
"Months passed, winter easing gently into place, as southern winters do. The sun, warm as a blanket, wrapped Kya's shoulders, coaxing her deeper in
"Months passed, winter easing gently into place, as southern winters do. The sun, warm as a blanket, wrapped Kya's shoulders, coaxing her deeper into the marsh. Sometimes she heard night-sounds she didn't know or jumped from lightning too close, but whenever she stumbled, it was the land that caught her. Until at last, at some unclaimed moment, the heart-pain seeped away like water into sand. Still there, but deep. Kya laid her hand upon the breathing, wet earth, and the marsh became her mother."
I was completely entranced by this story, in ways I never expected to be. It was memorable, both in character and in content, and though it was only a story about one little girl in one small part of the world, it swept me off my feet as if it were a saga. It's books like these that prove stories do not to be epic in scope to pack a punch. You can still fall in love with a character and their journey, and that's exactly what I did. If you're a fan of utterly moving character-driven dramas a little bit à la Celeste Ng, Where the Crawdads Sing may be the book for you.
At the tender age of six, Kya Clark watches as her mother walks away from her family. One by one, the rest of the Clark family follows in her footsteps, elder siblings walking out of Kya's life one day at a time. They leave Kya alone in a run-down shack with her father who negligent at best and abusive at worst. Kya is left to raise herself in the deep marshes of Barkley Cove, North Carolina, alone and unloved. What follows is a story of survival, of loneliness and human connection, the story of an innocent girl who did not deserve such a start in life.
"Alone for hours, by the light of the lantern, Kya read how plants and animals change over time to adjust to the ever-shifting earth; how some cells divide and specialize into lungs or hearts, while others remain uncommitted as stem cells in case they're needed later. Birds sing mostly at dawn because the cool, moist air of morning carries their songs and their meanings much farther. All her life, she'd seen these marvels at eye level, so nature's ways came easily to her. Within all the worlds of biology, she searched for an explanation of why a mother would leave her offspring."
I did not expect to love a story set in the depths of North Carolina marshland. The 'deep south' has never been an appealing setting for me, and still isn't if I'm honest, but Barkley Cove seems to be the exception. These marshes are written as their own character, full of life and personality. They are as much of a part of the story as Kya is, and together they make a heart-melting duo. Kya herself is one of those 'good and pure' protagonists. I wouldn't say she's fraught with complexity, she's a very innocent and naive child entangled in a survival story, and that just makes her insanely likeable. She's a kid surviving in the wilderness on her own, you can imagine what a satisfying read that is. I felt myself cheer when she prevailed, I felt my heart sink when she didn't, and goddamn it I cried when she cried - and I do not let the tears fall for just any book, I can tell you.
At the crux of her story, though, is a murder mystery. Not a big one, it teases its way into the plot bit-by-bit. This is where the story fell short for me. I didn't mind this crime-y subplot, but in the end I just felt like it could have been executed better. I found myself wishing it was either more ingrained in the story or just left out entirely, but that was really my own qualm about the book.
In all, a massively engaging read, and well-deserving of the accolades it has already received. I'd recommend picking this up if you are a fan of Little Fires Everywhere or The Great Alone, or if you're looking for someone who inspires you to keep working hard, no matter the circumstances, and prevail when everything else seems against you....more
The Poppy War may actually be the adult fantasy debut of the year. Everyone and their mother is raving about it, five-star reviews are littering GoodrThe Poppy War may actually be the adult fantasy debut of the year. Everyone and their mother is raving about it, five-star reviews are littering ŷ. And though I may not have ended up quite as obsessed as the rest of the bookish community, I was still immensely impressed.
If you're a fan of Chinese-inspired high fantasy, pay attention. The Poppy War draws from the culture in so many different ways, ways that make it stand out from other books in the genre. It draws from the rich folklore of course, but touches more on lesser known legends, creatures of nightmare and notably DEITIES. There are copious martial arts here, if you're into that, but most importantly, the story itself is based on true Chinese history (and a very interesting history, at that.) Author R. F. Kuang sums it up perfectly:
"This is, as I've always conceived it, a war story. It draws heavily on the Second Sino-Japanese war which–if you know anything about Asia–was one of the darkest and bloodiest moments in Chinese history. It grapples with the Rape of Nanjing. It deals heavily with opium and drug use. (Opium was a source of Chinese weakness. This book asks what would have happened if opium were instead a source of shamanic power.) This book is primarily about military strategy, collapsing empires, mad gods, and the human ability to make awful, ruthless decisions. It's about how dictators are made."
I was enjoying myself from the very first page. Rin Fang is our protagonist: a lonely war-orphan, fostered by an unloving and criminal family, and a very likeable character. Not that any characters in the book agree with my assessment.
"In Tikany, an unmarried girl like Rin was worth less than a gay rooster."
Rin works as a shop-assistant-slash-opium-runner for her foster parents, who don't appreciate her help at all. They're just waiting for her to come of age so they can marry her off to some middle-aged gent with a tad of money. Rin's less than happy at this arrangement, as you can imagine. She promises herself she'll find a way out of this mess, but what can she do as a young teenager without a penny to her name? Her salvation lies in education: if Rin manages to pass the Keju - an elite written test - she qualifies to enter a school of her choosing. But the only school that offers free tutelage is the military Sinegard Academy, the absolute hardest to get into. She knows she doesn't stand a chance - she'd be competing against nobles, kids from money who've been training their whole lives. But she has to try.
As you can probably guess, Rin succeeds.
The city of Sinegard is not the beautiful, safe haven Rin had come to expect. It's a harsh, bustling city, no friendly faces or second chances. Rin is completely out of her element in this cruel city.
"You cripple a child, you pay a disabilities fine for their entire life. But if you kill them, you pay the funeral fee once. And that's only if you're caught. If you hit someone, better make sure they're dead."
The Academy is just as bad. Not only does Rin have to compete physically and intellectually against noble children, she also faces tough classist and racist discrimination from every angle. But Rin is awesome, and more than capable. Together, she and the reader navigate her first year learning more about the world, the history, the lore and the martial arts as Rin learns what it takes to be a solider. These early sections of the book are slower and 'world-buildier' and really help set the scene for what's to come. It is a very military book, with many chapters dedicated to war history, strategy, fighting and, eventually, actual war. Though that's npt massively my thing, it was still interesting and enjoyable, and there were enough other things going on to break up the military-ness. I grew to love Rin so much as a flawed and hot-headed character, who has a darkness in her that I just crave to see more of. I related to her struggles: her rivalries, her discrimination, her teenage woes. I loved the characters she interacted with, her friends and enemies and especially her hilarious mentor Jiang.
"I heard he got drunk on rice wine last week and pissed into Jun's window," Kitay chipped in. "He sounds awesome."
The first half of the book is a nice, slow introduction. It sets the scene and eases you in. Then comes the darkness.
War comes to Sinegard. Rin discovers what she's made of. I don't want to give too much away. But there's bloodshed, there's treachery, there's magic. And Rin just keeps getting better.
I loved the darkness in this story. Not so much the blood and the gore and the horrors of war; I've seen other reviewers describe this book as brutal. It's not. It's a war story, and you can imagine the kind of content it throws at you, but there are far harsher novels out there. But the darkness of the characters were excellently portrayed, and for me that was the appeal. That was what I loved. And since this is only the first instalment in a trilogy, I'm expecting things to get a lot darker. And hopefully, even I'll be pulling out the word 'brutal'.
I'm so excited to see where this series is going to go, and I recommend it highly. Yes, it's a large tome. Yes, it has its dull moments, but they are few and far between. It may be a brick of a book but it's not one to be scared of, it's one to embrace. It's brilliantly written, so many layers of awesome and so different from other books in the genre. Trust me, this is not one you want to miss....more
"I am a haenyeo. Like my mother, and her mother before her, like my sister will be one day, her daughters too - I was never anything but a woman of th"I am a haenyeo. Like my mother, and her mother before her, like my sister will be one day, her daughters too - I was never anything but a woman of the sea. Neither you nor any man can make me less than that."
This novel captivated me in a way I really wasn't expecting. I had been looking for some more Korean-based WWII lit since I my disappointing affair with left me gasping for a story I could connect with more easily. If you had similar feelings towards Pachinko, read on my friend, because White Chrysanthemum could end up being the story you've been searching for.
It's 1943 on Jeju island. The occupying forces of the Japanese imperial army do not stop sisters Hana and Emi from joining their mother at the beach every single morning. She is a haenyeo, one of many generations of Korean women who dive down to the depths of the sea each day to gather mussels, seaweed, octopuses and anything else they can get their hands on. They are fiercely strong and independent women, self-sufficient and bloody inspirational, in my mind.
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Hana and Emi's mother is to train them to become haenyeo, just as every generation of women was trained before them. It's an honour for Hana and Emi, and a great tradition to follow in their ancestor's footsteps. Emi, as the youngest, isn't yet a strong swimmer, but Hana is quickly learning the skill. Maybe it's just because I adore the sea and therefore any book passages that are set in it, but I was immediately invested in this book just from the sea diving alone. This ancient tradition fascinated me, and I could so easily imagine myself down in the depths of the ocean with Hana and her mother, each holding their breath steadfast as they hunted for food. I was completely lost in this world of the haenyeo, a literary homage to these brilliant women... and then everything just got worse ... but in a really good kinda way...
This book was - and there's really no other word to describe it - brutal. It offers a stark look at our not-so-distant history and the real-life crimes committed in times of war. Crimes that aren't spoken about enough. Crimes that some governments are actively trying to sweep under the rug, and pretend never happened. Hana goes out diving with her mother one day. Emi stays on the shore, waiting. When Hana returns to the surface to breathe, she looks back to check on Emi, but sees something much more disturbing. Some ways down, there is a Japanese soldier patrolling the beach. Her mother continues hunting below, her sister has not seen the solider. Hana barely has a chance to think about her actions. She frantically swims to shore and grabs her sister, hiding her behind some rocks. And not a moment too soon, as the Japanese solider spots her before she has a chance to conceal herself. Hana is taken. She has no idea where. But she's glad it's her, and not her sister.
What follows is Hana's story, one that echoes many thousands of real-life women's, as she is abducted, and taken to serve as a 'comfort woman'. Told through alternating POVs, we follow Hana's excruciating story of torture and abuse, and her little sister's devastation over losing her and determination to solve the mystery of where she went. Both girls' stories were touching, compelling, emotional and important. Sure, the author's writing style may have veered to the side of "tell" rather than "show". And yes, perhaps the characters were not as well-rounded as they could have been. But they were enough. All of it was more than enough. To make me feel for them. Make me feel for the 200,000 supposed women who were taken from their homes and ripped of their innocence by this regime. Their stories were seldom told, most didn't survive, so many families never even knew what became of their daughters.
White Chrysanthemum is harsh. Its cold and unforgiving, but it's real and important. And it's also well-written, compelling and wrought with emotion. As dark as the subject matter is, it's still enjoyable. For the truth of it all, for the bravery of the characters, for the feelings that we can relate to, and those we hope never to have to.
Read it for the intensity. Read it for your feelings. Read it to honour the women who lost their dignity, their sanity and their lives, whose families never found them, whose stories were never told. Read it for them....more
I’ve always enjoyed Rose McGowan for the fiery individual she appeared to be on screen. Even though she states in her memoir, �for those who knew me aI’ve always enjoyed Rose McGowan for the fiery individual she appeared to be on screen. Even though she states in her memoir, �for those who knew me as an actress, I must inform you I was never that person�, she’s still a damn queen, I know it. Her fire comes across from the very first page. Her words are fierce, they demand attention, and damn right. For a survivor of abuse to come forward and tell her story, I would expect nothing less.
"I was told I had to have long hair, otherwise the men doing the hiring in Hollywood wouldn't want to fuck me, and if they didn't want to fuck me, they wouldn't hire me. I was told this by my female agent, which is tragic on so many levels."/strong
Brave is less of a memoir, more of a social commentary with McGowan's own experiences as the starting point. It's a story about women and the abuse of women; it's a painful and, yes, fairly triggering account, but it's the kind of book I can see being very helpful to a lot of people.
Rose McGowan's story is one best read by those who want to hear what she has to say. This is not a 'lifestyles of the rich and famous' celeb autobiography; it doesn't dish a whole lot of dirt and goss on the Hollywood scene, only what needs to be said. (Predominantly about McGowan's most prolific abuser, Harvey Weinstein.) Nor does it go into slow and detailed account of McGowan's childhood, usually one of my favourite parts of an autobiography. McGowan just tells you her story the way she wants to tell it. It's informal, her writing is more stream-of-conscious, so much so that it feels rushed at times. Details that piqued my interest were often brushed over, as if her whole life had been put to summary. To me, it felt rather unfinished, and it left me wondering if there had perhaps been a rush to publish while the Weinstein scandal and its aftermath is still fresh in everyone's mind. And if that was the marketing strategy there, then fair enough. This is not a work of fiction and we're not here to judge McGowan's literary prowess, she doesn't need to polish her manuscript to the high sheen expected of fiction works. This is her story, and I can certainly say it gave me feelings.
I would have loved more though, that has to be said. I am definitely one to savour a true life-story. I love feeling connected to a real person, reading about their struggles and rejoicing in their successes. I love a real-life story of dramatic events, and Brave had plenty of those. But it felt like it was on speed, which sadly prevented me from connecting to Rose McGowan fully. I also felt a disconnect when it came to McGowan's childhood memories. Mostly they seemed to be written from an entirely adult perspective, the magic of forty years' hindsight chucked in with a child's encounter. There's hardly anything wrong with hindsight, but McGowan often wrote her insights in line with what was going through her head when she was a child, and that just rally brought me away from the character. No four-year-old has the mind and wisdom of an adult, but McGowan wrote it that way a lot. It just felt like kiddy Rose McGowan was a genius, an adult in a child's body, instantly seeing through everyone's bullshit. I know 'believability' is a review-term we use a lot for sci-fi and fantasy, but that word popped up a lot for me when I was reading Brave.
"I remember thinking as a young girl, How is it possible that women can be so gullible? They just ignore the reality of what is happening and believe what they want to believe."
Honestly it didn't really help the 'believability' issue when everything in Brave is so rushed. With the focus jumping, briefly, to the varied horrible people in McGowan's life, there was no time to mention the good stuff. There didn't appear to be anyone even remotely decent in Rose's entire life-story, no one that got any part of the word count anyway. And that just gave the impression that McGowan was the only good person in a storm of nasties, one little genius adult-in-the-body-of-a-child, fighting the monsters all in her own.
"Sometimes she would walk down the hall and I would see him stand up and start following her. I would block his path and get in his face. Well, I would get in his stomach, because I was ten. One particular time I spit at him and it landed perfectly on his lips. He gave me a beating and I took it. I was damned if I was going to let him do anything to Daisy."
At the end of the day, I'm not here to judge the truthfulness of this memoir. Definitely not going to throw the word 'lies' into a review of an abuse survivor's story. But as a writer and a reader I know a lot about believability and I know it's value in connecting a reader to a story. And that is why I wanted to bring it up: to me, this is not 'my kind' of autobiography. It's not one I would recommend if you like to get lost in a true story as I do, learning about and connecting with a person of note, someone you may hold in high esteem. This is not that kind of story.
But it is one to read for the feminists, budding or veteran. It is one to read if you want to hear a survivor's story, or if you're invested in the current Hollywood scandal. It's also a great book to read if you're trying to break into Hollywood; I have never seen such a clear warning sign.
Most of all, it's a motivational story. Rose McGowan is a powerful and fiery woman, a phoenix calling - no, screaming - for a better world for her gender. She is raw, and she is a dragon, and she can definitely be called brave....more
"When I was twelve, my parents had two talks with me. One was the usual birds and bees. [...] The other talk was about what to do if a cop st
"When I was twelve, my parents had two talks with me. One was the usual birds and bees. [...] The other talk was about what to do if a cop stopped me."
This book should be required reading. Not for schools, for everyone. The premise is simple but powerful, the characters are every day people but they are excellently written. The message is one we've heard a million times before but we still haven't heard it enough.
The story follows sixteen-year-old Starr, a private-school student who has always felt out of place. At school, she is one of the few black students. Back in her neighborhood, she is mocked for going to school outside the area - with white people nonetheless. Although she feels like she lives in two different worlds, she's determined to prove to herself that both of her lives can co-exist.
One night, Starr gets a lift home from her childhood friend Khalil. They get pulled over by a policeman. The whole encounter is over in barely a minute, and it ends with Khalil shot dead on the side of the road. What follows is an incredibly well-written story of family, community, race and coming-of-age. It's raw, powerful and true. And in between the lines, it's soft, wholesome and meaningful. It's the kind of story that you don't want to put down; it sucks you in so easily, and makes you care about each and every character. It was well and truly excellent.
"I've been it happen over and over again: a black person gets killed just for being back, and all hell breaks loose. I've tweeted RIP hashtags, reblogged pictures on Tumblr, and signed every petition out there. I always said that if I saw it happen to somebody, I would have the loudest vice, making sure the world knew what went down. Now I am that person, and I'm too afraid to speak."
I feel like The Hate U Give is like a flagship novel for the YA genre. Angie Thomas gives us characters we can love, who feel real and that we care about. It talks about important and relevant topics but not harshly; it's done with emotions, with tears. It's done slowly, making you fall for Starr and her family, presenting the themes with a side of love and compassion. It explores racism in a way we can all understand, or we all should understand, whether we are old or young, black or white. The police brutality against innocent black people and the horrors and injustice that ensues, but also casual day-to-day racism, the kind that so many people just don't understand is harmful. It's not only the big things we need to talk about, we need to be showing our kids about every facet and form of racism, and why our perspectives can differ due to our experiences in our own skin, whatever colour it is.
I say again, The Hate U Give is one of the most important novels in the YA genre. It's a story that I and so many people need to hear and remember. And that's the best part of YA for me: the messages and lessons we impart to our younger readers. #BlackLivesMatter is one such lesson.
"Are you serious right now?" Hailey asks. "What's wrong with saying his life matters too?" "His life always matters more!" My voice is gruff, and my throat is tight. "That's the problem!"
Read it for the very lovable and very real characters. Read it for the heart-wrenching social commentary. Read it no matter who you are, even if it doesn't look like your usual cup of tea. This truly is a book for each and every one of us....more
“Life in the bush is hard work, but you can’t beat the taste of salmon you caught in the morning, drizzled with butter you churned from your own fresh“Life in the bush is hard work, but you can’t beat the taste of salmon you caught in the morning, drizzled with butter you churned from your own fresh cream. Up here, there’s no one to tell you what to do or how to do it. We each survive our own way. If you’re tough enough, it’s heaven on earth.�
This little slice of magic really did tick my boxes. Survivalism against a glorious Alaskan backdrop with intense family drama and characters that made the heart melt? I am all over that.
Kristin Hannah is best known for her award-winning WWII family drama The Nightingale, a book that still lingers on my to-read pile but not for much longer. Perhaps those who enjoyed The Nightingale for its family dynamics in a high-stakes setting will also find appeal in The Great Alone. It’s hardcore, it’s emotional, and it’s exciting. But most of all its core character drama packs an immense punch and I do not say that lightly. I can count on one hand the number of books that have actually wrenched tears from my eyes, and The Great Alone is the book that carries me over to my second.
“I’m trying to make you self-sufficient.� It sounded like an apology, but for what? For being crazy sometimes or teaching her to hunt? Or for making her eat the Hare’s beating heart? Or for the nightmares that ruined all their sleep?Or maybe he was apologising for something he hasn’t done yet but was afraid he would.�
Leni’s dad has PTSD. But this is 1974, a time before there was even a name for it, and certainly no help. All Leni can understand is that her father came back from Vietnam a changed man: he’s angry, plagued with nightmares, and harbours a deep obsession with the government’s controlling lies. When he decides to move the family to the remote Kenai Peninsula in Alaska to live off the land and embrace nature’s wilderness, Leni’s mother is hopeful that this will be the break her husband needs to return to his former, happy self. Thirteen-year-old Leni doesn’t have a friend in the world, but her mother is her life, and she trusts her words. Even if sometimes she understands, deep down, those words are wrong.
Leni is a wonderful protagonist. Bookish and strong, she’s a young girl who comes of age in the vast Alaskan wilderness; learning to hunt, fish, garden, built, make clothes, and just survive in a bitter but beautiful landscape. She faces nature’s dangers throughout the story, but as she grows older she comes to understand that Alaska’s greatest dangers aren’t the predators, the risk of starvation or the freezing cold: it’s the man she loves the most in the whole world.
Kristin Hannah paints an honest and emotional portrait of domestic abuse. It’s a tale as old as time, a story that has been told in so many books, but when paired with a story of survivalism it hits home just that little bit more. Leni’s dad, Ernt, isn’t just an abusive partner; he’s also a victim of a serious mental health condition. Though no reader could condone his behaviour, his backstory brings his character more depth, more believability. And I understand Cora, his wife, who can’t bring herself to leave him. I see her strengths, I see her many flaws, and I feel like she’s an accurate representation of a real-life domestic abuse victim. It’s books like The Great Alone that can help us find compassion for those in similar situations. The age-old argument is still rampant: “if they’re hitting you, why don’t you leave them?� Kristin Hannah does a good job of showing the complexities of an abusive relationship: how it’s never that simple, but also shows the consequences of complacency. Most of all, Hannah really makes a point of stressing the immense power an abuser can hold over their victim. Alone in the Alaskan wilderness, Leni and her mother are not afraid of the bears, the wolves, the thousand ways they could so easily die. Who they are afraid of is Ernt.
But The Great Alone is so much more than a tale of abuse. It’s a coming-of-age story with a lovable protagonist. It’s a story of family and community, with a whole host of secondary characters who are as vivid and enjoyable as the main. It’s a story of love in all its forms, each one of them as emotionally-charged as the next. It’s a story of nature and its wonders: Kristin Hannah truly made the Alaskan wilderness feel alive on the page. I can’t remember the last time I’ve really been able to immerse myself into a fictional world; I truly felt like I was there with the characters: hunting rabbits and tending the land, preparing for the stark Alaskan winter with Leni and her family. I adore survivalist lit, and I wish there had been even more details about how the family and tiny Alaskan community fended for themselves, but what there was of it was marvelous and brilliantly engulfing.
Honestly, this book stole my heart. In less than 500 pages, Kristin Hannah squeezes in so much, but she does it so well. There’s action and excitement, there’s surviving and thriving, there’s amazing characters, growing pains, gut-wrenching love, dread and woe, happiness and contemplation. And then there’s just me, crying in my bed over fictional characters, wishing the story hadn’t ended....more
I like a grim(m) fairy-tale retelling as much as the next person, and a dark, modern re-imagining of Alice in Wonderland sounds fab, does it not? And I like a grim(m) fairy-tale retelling as much as the next person, and a dark, modern re-imagining of Alice in Wonderland sounds fab, does it not? And yes, for the first third of The Hazel Wood, I was excited. Engrossed, even.
The premise is mysterious and enticing: Alice, our teenage protagonist, has been moving from place to place her entire life, her mum her only constant. She’s never really known why her mum keeps packing them off different places, but best she can tell it’s to escape the vicious “bad luck� they can’t help but encounter.
“But I still saw the shadow of the bad luck: a woman who trailed me through a used bookstore, whispered something obscene in my ear as she picked my phone from my pocket. Streetlights winking out over my head, one by one, as I walked down the street after midnight. The same busker showing up with his guitar on every train I rode for a week, singing “Go Ask Alice� in his spooky tenor.�
There’s something creepy about the bad luck that follows Alice and her mother, something eerie and supernatural, something that may be connected to Alice’s grandmother Althea: the enigmatic author of an out-of-print collection of dark fairy-tales. But when Althea passes away alone in her estate, the Hazel Wood, Alice’s bad luck magnifies. Her mother is kidnapped by a figure who claims to come from the Hinterland, the cruel supernatural world where her grandmother’s stories are set. Alice’s only lead is the message her mother leaves behind: “Stay away from the Hazel Wood.�
The bait was set, I was reeled in. The story was set up so well, I appreciated the colloquial and humorous yet poignant writing style. I really enjoyed Alice; not your typical protagonist, she had a tough upbringing and she’s riddled with anger issues and a smoking habit. She’s not entirely fond of life, but she doesn’t sit around feeling sorry for herself. She’s angry, sure, but she felt rounded and real. I’m not the kind of person who needs a protagonist to be “likeable� in order to like them, so Alice, with a bit of a temper, seemed fab. I eased into the story, desperate for answers to the mysteries surrounding the Hazel Wood.
Wow, did I wait for those.
Look, mystery is a great plot device but don’t take the piss. You can’t string it out for over half the book without giving us anything. I didn’t find the plot slow, there was more than enough going on, but honestly most of that was mere teasing. For more than half of the book, mysterious and creepy stuff just keeps happening. More and more questions start to appear. Do we get any answers? Nah. And that’s just plain annoying. And what am I going to do when I don’t get any hints and I’ve started to get irritated? I start noticing the flaws.
I didn’t appreciate running around with these characters for 200-odd pages, being teased, and really not seeing any character growth. Alice, who I liked initially, got dull. She seemed promising, but showed her true colours in the end: two-dimensional and ultimately uninteresting. I like an alternative, kinda-dicky character, but you’ve got to give them depth. The only other memorable character was Alice’s sidekick Finch, who was so boring I’ve got nothing else to say about him.
But then, eventually, the answers started appearing. And for the time it took them, they could have been better. I’m not knocking them: the denouement and climax of the story were entirely reasonable, but by this point I had stopped caring.My fantasy of an epic, dark Alice in Wonderland retelling? Where was that? Sure, Alice ends up in the Hinterland, which is otherworldly and strange, but it is not even remotely reminiscent of Lewis Carroll’s airy, Dadaist masterpiece of nonsense. The closest thing The Hazel Wood resembles is Eastern European folklore, but even then that’s a bit of a stretch. The most enjoyable and recognizable attempt at recreating the genre were two short chapters which were stories from Tales from the Hinterland, Althea’s book. They were fabulous, I’d take more of those in a heartbeat. But we only got two (the relevant ones), and they were dispersed in weird places throughout the main plot, distracting from the story and immediately taking my mind out of the world. Ideally what we could have done with were lots of really condensed versions of the story scattered evenly throughout the novel between chapters. I’d have enjoyed that a whole lot more.
I thoroughly enjoyed the beginning, I did like Melissa Albert’s fairy-tales, and I think the overall plot arc was decent. But I really feel a lot more work could have been put into the execution. It looks like Melissa Albert is set to release the actual Tales from the Hinterland in a few years as a collection of her fairy-tales, which is definitely something I’d look out for. But as for The Hazel Wood, I feel this tale should be left in the Hinterland where it belongs....more
Once upon a time, a man called Christopher Knight got into his car and drove. He drove although he didn't know where he was going, and he didn't stop Once upon a time, a man called Christopher Knight got into his car and drove. He drove although he didn't know where he was going, and he didn't stop until he reached the woods. He abandoned his car, never to see it again, and there he lived for nearly 30 years, away from everything he ever knew. In this true story, Michael Finkel explores the life of "the last true hermit". And though I didn't love it, the book certainly gave me a lot to think about.
I picked this book because I have a slightly unhealthy obsession with survivalist literature, and a tentative curiosity about hermits. I mean, who hasn't contemplated giving it all up and becoming a social outcast? We've all had that kind of day where we've just felt so fed up with the world - and with people ugh - that we feel so monumentally tempted to just sell our shit and fuck off to Tibet forever. It sounds so fun for a while, so freeing. But then of course the practicalities are considered and you start thinking about how rubbish you are at building a tent and what would you eat anyway and could you realistically live without the internet? It's a good little exercise in gratitude really; when you're feeling down about society and how free you certainly are not, consider the benefits of supermarkets and indoor plumbing. And NETFLIX. A life in isolation, a pariah of society, is a thought we often entertain but would never go through with. So obviously I wanted to read the story of a man who actually did.
"I have only in my life carried to an extreme what you have not dared to carry halfway, and what's more, you have taken your calendars for good sense, and I found comfort in deceiving ourselves. So that perhaps, after all, there is more life in me than you."
A well-rounded novel, there's a little bit of something for everyone here. We explore Knight's past and his initial escape to the woods, his survival techniques, his life of crime. We also delve into his mental health and spend quite a few chapters comparing him to other famous hermits throughout history, and why they did it. Though I recognize this book as a work of investigative journalism, I was less inclined to read all the quotes from hermits that weren't Knight, to read about their philosophies when really I just wanted some true-life survivalism.
I was definiely interested in what Knight had to say. Finkel really painted a picture of the hermit that had to be very close to life. The man was very socially inept, opinionated to a fault and somewhat aggressively made his feelings known, and definitely with a sense of superiority. He was uncaring about anyone but himself, which goes to show the state of mind it takes for someone to leave society.
"His brother Joel co-signed the loan. "He did such a nice thing for me, and I screwed him on that," Knight said. "I still owe him."
He stole supplies from holiday cabins not far from his camp, probably the only thing I really fault him for. But he always knew what he was doing was wrong, he apologized profusely and made it known to his interviewer that he wished to be portrayed in the book with the good and the bad, flaws and all. He didn't particularly think of himself as a good person.
I think this is one of those books that is perfect for a book club, it inspired such debate in me, and I still don't know if I've made my mind up on the matter. I may not like Knight as a person but I relate to him entirely. He is one of so many in our society that doesn't fit into one of the boxes the "powers that be" expects us to.
"I am a square peg," he says. Everybody he encounters, he feels, it's smashing it him, pounding on him, trying to jump him into a round hole. Society seems no more welcoming to him before he left. He feels he may be forced to take psychotropic medicines, drugs or mess with his brain, when he already knows exactly how to fix everything."
Society is a man-made concept, so how do you find peace within it when you know it's fake and it doesn't really matter? Knight chose to follow his happiness and exile himself but he was never free to make that decision for himself. As a human he was never free to opt-out of the law, he lived illegally and he stole food and supplies, actions which he eventually paid for. It's easy to say that it's good that we can't ever escape society, people would be free to commit the most atrocious crimes. But it comes down to this tendency we have as humans to act in ways that benefit the most amount of people. We enforce our laws because it keeps society running. There's no leniency for Knight, who wasn't hurting anyone with this actions; punishing him and not allowing him to continue to live in isolated happiness was "best for society", even though it robbed him of his happiness and left him suicidal.
It makes me wish that morality was so much more clean-cut. There's no definitive answer to the question "is it better to consider the needs of the many over the needs of the few?" I don't want to forget about the few, the square pegs that are continuously forced into round holes. I don't think anyone on this earth is a round peg capable of fitting those societal round holes, but I think a lot of us are octagons, and we can squeeze ourselves in (in a pinch). But the square pegs will never fit, and what of them, condemned to their misery because it benefits the octagon pegs? Christopher Knight was never a criminal, he just wanted to experience the freedom that everyother animal has on this earth apart from humans. How can I call him wrong when I don't believe in Divine governance, when the only ones ruling us are humans, just as equal as the rest, who imprison the square pegs just because they disagree with them? And that's all laws are: self-inflicted rules to benefit the many. Or the rich. Or the establishment.
Depending in which context you define 'better', yes maybe it is better to have or society working this way. At the very least, it's easier. For me. For most. But if I were Christopher Knight, so deeply depressed just by being around other people, capable of living in the wild without hurting anyone, I wouldn't give a damn about the probation society placed on me. I'd get in the car and get back to my bliss, and I'd never stop fighting for my truth....more
Jon Ronson is an accessible and relateable investigative journalist with some interesting books. Possibly his most famous, The Psychopath Test, was thJon Ronson is an accessible and relateable investigative journalist with some interesting books. Possibly his most famous, The Psychopath Test, was the one I was the most drawn to: an unassuming jaunt into the mind of the world's most mentally ill? Yes please. Psychopathy is absurdly fascinating and I certainly don't know enough about it. I just wish I could say I knew more after finishing this book.
Ronson writes well of his foray into the dangerous world of psychopaths, and what little information he gives us is brilliantly harrowing and educational at the same time. He tells of the Hare PCL-R Checklist, which is used to diagnose psychopathy, and the man who invented it, leading the reader to immediately start trying to diagnose every person they've ever met. He takes the reader with him on his visits to psychiatric hospital to meet the most dangerous people alive and leaves us to wonder how on earth anyone can truly function as they do...
"She showed him a picture of a frightened face and asked him to identify the emotion. He said he didnt know what the emotion was but it was the face people pulled just before he killed them."
Most interesting were the experiments, the tests Ronson talks about when psychopathy was first being learned about, how the world was taken by storm by the verification of psychopathy, and even mental illness itself as Ronson leads us down a fascinating tangent on the beginnings of the DSM. That, honestly, was one of the most mind-blowing parts of the book. I knew the field of psychology was new, but to see the complete and utter shambles it is...to read about the creation of the DSM, the abuses of power...it was shocking.
"Here was the American physician Samuel Cartwright identifying in 1851 a mental disorder, drapetomania, evident only in slaves. The sole symptom was 'the desire to run away from slavery' and the cure was to 'whip the devil out of them' as a preventative measure."
The Psychopath Test is an easy read, aside from the disturbing subject matter, and definitely recommended for very new entrants to the field. I would have loved a more in-depth view into the world of psychopathy, but for a start this was definitely enjoyable....more
I've grown to really enjoy Seanan McGuire; her novel concepts are stellar, though her execution sometimes falls a bit short (as in the case of I've grown to really enjoy Seanan McGuire; her novel concepts are stellar, though her execution sometimes falls a bit short (as in the case of ). I was excited to pick up her latest novella, a speculative take on ghosts and the concept of the Afterlife. Anyone who knows me will agree that ghosts are totally my jam.
Protagonist Jenny, bit of a Mary Sue but nonetheless lovable, has an unhealthy obsession with her sister Patty. When it is discovered that Patty has died by her own hand, Jenny feels somehow responsible, and in her grief runs out of the house into a raging storm, killing herself in the process. Forty years later, Jenny is "living" in New York as a ghost. Having become fully aware that every soul is granted a specific time on earth, Jenny must continue to exist on this plane until she reaches the end of her allotted time. In McGuire's world, ghosts are able to take time from the living, moving themselves closer to their deathday while making the living younger in return. Jenny could easily take several years from the closest passer-by, some ghosts do, but guilt-ridden she earns the time she takes by volunteering at a suicide hotline, working out her issues with her sister's death and hoping to earn her way into Heaven.
"I found my first support group not a month later. I started helping people. I started earning the time I take, justifying it with my actions before I pull it into myself. I'm aging slowly, so slowly, but I like to think that when I finally catch up to my time - whatever age that is - and move on to wherever Patty is waiting for me, she'll be proud. She'll see I did the best I could."
Though I had certain difficulties with suspension of belief at times, this was a thoroughly enjoyable novel. I really liked Jenny as a character, I found myself caring about her immensely. I enjoyed the world McGuire has built, though this being a novella we never quite got to the end of the world-building. It was pieced together throughout, but it could have been slightly more delicately inserted. Adding an important bit of world-building information during a rather intense fight scene is not exactly the way to go! Nevertheless, the only thing that would have rounded this novella up better would have been a slightly more satisfactory conclusion; a little bit longer of a goodbye and a overall moral to the story. I like it when stories, especially a novella, have a point to put across, but the only one I could really see here was about Jenny resolving her guilt over her sister's death and earning her way to a reunion. But since her guilt over her sister's death made absolutely no sense in the first place, the whole "point" of the novel (if that truly was the point), felt a little moot.
That said, it's a nice length, good short read and I found myself thoroughly invested in the story. Would recommend for some enjoyable afternoon reading, especially if you're a fan of original supernatural concepts....more
Everyone’s talking about a new YA fantasy, a mystical and dangerous game that challenges reality. A game of magic and deception, reminiscent of The HuEveryone’s talking about a new YA fantasy, a mystical and dangerous game that challenges reality. A game of magic and deception, reminiscent of The Hunger Games, with some immersion theatre thrown in and ooooh that sounds good. And what I ended up reading was one of my biggest disappointments of the year.
Scarlett Dragna is today’s protagonist. Likely named after Scarlett O’Hara by the author, a classic and memorable heroine; strong, unforgettable, and many other adjectives that Scarlett Dragna absolutely does not share. She’s a pretty girl (but she doesn’t want anyone to know it,) she thinks crushes are immoral, and damn she is one judgemental protag �
“This from the girl who had called Scarlett drunk. She was farther away from the lantern, and the rest of the hall’s lights had gone out, so Scarlett couldn’t clearly see her face. She imagined her to be sullen and unattractive.�
Scarlett has always wanted to visit Caraval, a magical show in which the audience are also the players. But unbeknownst to her, her sister Tella has become part of the game, and her experience turns into a mission to find her as quickly as possible. Noble quest, sure, but the girl’s hardly a pleasure to read along with. She never shuts up about her sister (who she supposedly has this amazing super-special magical bond of love with), about how she’s going to get married to this count (who she’s never met, but she assumes he’s simply lovely), but she keeps commenting on everyone else’s attractiveness even though *gasp* she couldn’t possibly indulge in thoughts of a liaison.
“”I think he is the most attractive person I’ve ever seen.� She wanted to clap her hand over her mouth and shove the words back inside.�
But, of course she does. Predictably, she falls in love with this bloke Julian, a cocky, swaggy, all-around cringy, obvious love-interest.
“A lot of girls would feel lucky to you be.� He brushed a cool finger against Scarlett’s cheek.
As Scarlett’s companion throughout Caraval, he oils his way into her heart after less than a week of knowing each other and Scarlett of course falls in love (yes, she actually says these words). To top it all off, Scarlett then has a go at her sister for doing the exact same thing!
“Tella this is wrong.� Scarlett said. “You can’t be in love with someone you just met.�
I’m going to breeze over the issue of the plot here because for one thing I don’t want this review to be too spoilery, but I also stopped paying too much attention after the 30% mark. It’s not dull, I’ll be honest. My issue wasn’t with the plot, or even with the horrible characters. My issue, and I mean my ISSUE, was the writing.
Now.
If authors want to condescend, if they want to treat their readers like children, they should go ahead and publish some picture books. When 40% of your novel is meaningless filler, intended to both bulk up your little novel and repeat the same information like the reader has the memory of a goldfish, that’s bad form.
I was reading this story in bed last night, cup of chamomile in hand, trying to relax. But I was angered, actually really bloody angered by how this author was treating me. Garber just kept repeating herself over and over and over and over and over and fucking over.
“Tella must have been sincere about never returning to Trisda,�
“Scarlett wasn’t sure if these were things Tella had taken selfishly, or if she brought them to the isle for Scarlett because she’d not planned on either of them returning to Trisda.�
“Scarlett knew her sister didn’t plan on going back to Trisda once the game ended�
First third of the book? Every other paragraph we are reminded that Scarlett was looking for her sister. She was looking for her sister, by the way. Have you seen her sister anywhere? Because she’s looking for her sister. Maybe we should go over here and advance the plot some more, but don’t forget she’s still looking for her sister! Did she also mention she’s going to marry the count? She’s never met him but he’s lovely, honest. She’s totally going to marry him in arranged marriage and he’s a count, did you know? Also, have you seen her sister? She’s looking for her. Just FYI.
When the plot kicked in, there was even more of this. Reiterating the stakes and the plan and the goddamn maths for the umpteenth time, like I couldn’t remember. Like I was a young, sweet YA reader, without enough fully-developed brain power to fully comprehend Garber’s intellectually advanced plot. Like I couldn’t be trusted to remember, let alone � hahahahaha � figure anything out for myself! Christ no, Garber will sort me out. She’ll spoon-feed me her reminders every few paragraphs with a pat on the head, thanks love.
Young Adult readers deserve some credit. Like, have you met teenagers? Their main objective from the age of thirteen to eighteen is to be allowed freedom, trust, and to be treated like the young adults they are. There is no need to talk down to a young audience with this style of writing—I don’t believe YA should be written considerably differently to Adult; just make your protagonist a relatable age with relatable struggles! Oh, and while I’m furthering my list of opinions, one of the best part of YA literature is helping young adults set themselves up for the future with healthy advice and purposeful stories; maybe try and make sure your protagonist isn’t a slut-shamer and your love interest understands the word “no�. Just a thought....more
Prequel to The Bone Season, this e-novella is a perfect introduction to the series if you haven't experienced it yet. It's a future world in which claPrequel to The Bone Season, this e-novella is a perfect introduction to the series if you haven't experienced it yet. It's a future world in which clairvoyants of various sorts are hunted and terminated by the government, spirits are used in combat, and mysterious forces from another world intervene at will. It's a fabulous series, and The Pale Dreamer is a fabulous bite-sized chunk to stick your teeth into over a cuppa tea. It follows protagonist Paige Mahoney as she first learns to use her clairvoyant powers and seek out a poltergeist to impress her boss, Mime Lord Jaxon Hall. There's enough to keep you intrigued; there's a good introduction to the characters, the fiendishly political underworld and the fabulous supernatural world within the series.
It's exactly what I want out of a Bone Season book, a heavy focus on the supernatural with just enough character world, world-building and political tension to mix it up a bit.
If you haven't joined the fandom yet, start today by downloading The Pale Dreamer!...more
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