Believe me when I say I so wish I could have liked this more. When I was approved for an e-arc that I requested based on the very basic premise of thiBelieve me when I say I so wish I could have liked this more. When I was approved for an e-arc that I requested based on the very basic premise of this novel being a queer sapphic retelling of a Greek myth, I was HOOKED, but this was such a disappointment that I’m having trouble finding anything positive to say about it apart from the fact that it exists.
I’m not the biggest Greek Mythology fan out there, I didn’t know the original myth before diving into this novel, but I do know that I will always be here for a queer retelling of ANYTHING. As a queer reader myself, keeping a balance between “I’m just glad this queer story exists no matter how good or bad� and “telling queer stories isn’t an end in itself, they need to accomplish something� isn’t easy. This novel will, for some people, undoubtedly be exactly what they needed and have always looked for, and that’s great, but I wish it had at least been GOOD.
I know taste and enjoyment are subjective, but I buddy-read this with a friend of mine and we were both in agreement that this book is severely lacking in almost every major department, including writing (style), plot, and dialogue.
PSA: I received a digital reader advanced copy of this novel and can’t say what changes this will go through before being published. However, while it’s very likely that small details will change, I don’t think the writing style will.
If there is one thing I will forever do it’s comparing every Greek Mythology retelling to The Song of Achilles. It’s unfair, it’s biased, but I can’t help it. Madeline Miller set a gold standard that many writers will struggle to achieve. However, when comparing De Robertis’s writing to Miller’s, it falls flat on its nose. Where Miller’s prose is just the right shade short of purple, De Robertis’s takes elaborate and flowery to a whole new level. Similes follow metaphors follow too luscious imagery follows hyperboles on every page, constantly, so that the plot itself, the words� meaning is completely lost, and needs to be uncovered before one can even attempt to understand it.
There are nuggets of gold to be found, for sure:
“All of time collapses in the immediacy of desire.�
“Those of us who’ve been broken have more shards inside us than we know � and who among us has not been broken, as women in this world?�
There were lesbians, but the first half of the book dragged immensely, there were lesbians, but there was simultaneously too much info dumping and notThere were lesbians, but the first half of the book dragged immensely, there were lesbians, but there was simultaneously too much info dumping and not enough world-building going on, but there were lesbians!
�Last to Leave the Room� is one of those books I picked up on a whim. I heard speculative science fiction meets horror, and I hear queer, and I was like, let’s buddy-read this because why not.
Set in an undetermined feature, in an undetermined society, the novel takes place in the fictional Silicon Valley-inspired San Siroco, LA. Headed by the arrogant and headstrong Dr. Tamsin Rivers, a team of researchers are looking into why the entire city is sinking more and more every day. What Tamsin is keeping a secret from her colleagues? Her basement is sinking too, and at a far more alarming rate. What she doesn’t tell them, too? That a door has appeared in her basement, a door out of nowhere and leading to nowhere since it refuses to open. When, one night it opens to allow a genetically exact doppelgänger of her to enter the world, Tamsin’s world, her life as she knows it begins to change drastically. The doppelgänger has its uses, sure, but soon Tamsin begins to forget pieces of her life, lose track of time, to grow terrified of the outside world� and since when did she own two cats?
I very much agree with other readers in saying that the novel’s pacing is its biggest flaw. Its first half is as tedious as it is repetitive, consisting of nothing but Tamsin going to work and coming home, taking measurements of her basement, then going to work again, coming home to perform tests on her doppelgänger, then going to work again. The build-up is so excruciatingly slow, pages upon pages of the same stuff repeating itself, that the sudden plot twist around the 50% mark occurs much too late to keep readers less willing to persevere from possibly DNF-ing the book.
The first few chapters consisted of a lot of tell, don’t show, and the author left readers completely in the dark not only about what year the story is set in but about what kind of futuristic society the story takes place in, we don't get to know anything about the political and social landscape or indeed what the world looks like beyond the city itself. Given that 70% of the book takes place in Tamsin’s house, it made for a very confined reading experience, which, yes, might have been the author's goal all along, but I would have needed more background knowledge to be more fully invested.
Thankfully, the novel’s pacing picks up in the second half, and that’s where I finally got invested. The fear and the excitement of having a doppelgänger take over your life (for better or worse) are thoughtfully explored, and the author spends a lot of time pondering the ethics of what is moral and what isn't when it comes to how you treat a thing, a person (?) who talks, acts, thinks, behaves as you do, who basically IS you, while still being an extraterrestrial being.
I LOOOOVED Tamsin’s dynamic with Lachlan Woodfield, her tech company’s supervisor and watchdog. While she was barely in the first half of the book, her character became more important to the story and to Tamsin as the narrative progressed. The bathroom scene between those two? The intimacy? WHHHEEEEEWWWW. Still, their relationship came a bit out of nowhere and was left very open, dare I say, hanging, at the end of the novel, making me wonder why it was included in the first place.
While the introduced concepts of sinking cities, doppelgängers and parallel universes are both intriguing and spooky, I was only left with a vague sense of dread and wouldn’t have categorised this as horror had I not known its genre. In comparison, Jackson’s �The Haunting of Hill House� which I read only shortly after, left me much more shaken. All in all, I don’t regret having read this, but I highly doubt I’ll ever pick it up again.
I can’t believe I read an entire series from beginning to end within the span of *checks goodreads stats* 6 WEEKS? This definitely says a lot about juI can’t believe I read an entire series from beginning to end within the span of *checks goodreads stats* 6 WEEKS? This definitely says a lot about just how much I’ve enjoyed the series as a whole and even though I enjoyed �The Toll� less than its predecessor (which is undoubtedly still the strongest book in the series), I believe that it has serious flaws, I think it’s a fitting conclusion to a banging series.
After the thrilling showdown that went down at the end of book #2, I just had to pick up this one ASAP. It’s super hard to give a summary without spoiling anything of what happened before where this novel picks up, so proceed with caution.
Safe to say that the world is in shambles. Chaos reigns in a Scythedom that continues to fall prey to the ideals of the New Order scythes. More and more regions decide to abandon the high standards and rules the Scythedom has followed for centuries, letting themselves go and falling into lawlessness. What happened to Citra and Rowan, no one knows, and now that the (view spoiler)[Thunderhead is silent and Greyson is the only person in the world who can still communicate with it (hide spoiler)], who will have the power and dare to stand up to the rising New Order?
Similar to �Thunderhead�, Shusterman introduces a swath of new characters that add either very little, or a lot to the story. Given that both Rowan and Citra are out of the picture for large chunks of this book, the main attention lies on Greyson Tolliver, and Scythe Possuelo (whom we briefly met in book 2), as well as Jerico, the genderfluid captain of a salvage crew who spends most of their time on sea.
Regarding Jerico’s genderfluidity� I� *sighs* Am I happy to see a queer character in this book? Yes. Did *checks sky* her inclusion feel tokenistic? Yes. We do not nearly get enough queer, let alone non-binary characters in YA books, but then to have that one non-binary character (coincidentally also the only queer person in the whole series) say that *checks sky again* she identifies “as a woman in the sun and under clear skies, and as a man under the cover of clouds�?? I am STARVED for more queer rep but not starved enough to accept a form of non-binary representation this flawed and ill-considered. As some other goodreads user said, “[t]he first error is representing gender as something so fickle as to be changed by the weather, and the second is showing it as a choice.� People don’t choose to be trans or non-binary, or cis, for that matter (fuck you, Elon Musk).
When I first read the “reason� for Jeri’s “non-binarism� (and that’s unfortunately how it comes across in the book) I thought it was a bit odd, but then didn’t think much of it until I started reading reviews in preparation for writing my own review. Taken out of context, you’d think the character of Jeri was a parody of the transgender and non-binary community. Furthermore, Madagascar, the place Jeri is from, is made out to be a non-binary utopia where children are raised genderless, and idk, the rest of the world coming across as heteros only, and that there’s a certain place people move to to live queerly feels so wrong, like, why would queers need an extra place in a utopian society in which religious differences and ethnic minorities no longer exist??? There was no way they could live among the straight population?? Why the exclusionist thinking, Mr. Shusterman? His inclusion of Jerico might have been well-intentioned, but it came across as awkward (also check out the comment by Santosh, a non-binary reviewer, under this review).
Two whole ass paragraphs on Jerico, and I haven’t even talked about the rest yet, lol. All in all, the book starts very strong. While the beginning wasn’t necessarily action-packed, I was hooked on the simple premise that I wanted to know what THE FUCK happened with Rowan and Citra. I NEEDED answers, so my eyes were glued to the page. However, I do agree that the book lacked the sharpness and intense pacing of its two predecessors. Even though it was the longest book in the series, it could have used a firmer hand in the editing process since 50-100 pages could have been cut to make the whole reading process more enjoyable and exciting.
The middle part, in particular, dragged more than I would have liked it to, also due in part to its occasional heavy-handedness of political matters. Even more so than �Thunderhead�, this book was intent on drawing parallels to the US presidential election of 2016, Donald Trump, and the present-day American political climate in general. These parallels weren’t hard to spot, with one character even saying “Only idiots build walls.� We always love a good Trump drag, but I enjoyed Shusterman’s hidden and not-so-hidden pop culture references better. There’s Star Wars in here, Jaws, and some more I didn’t catch, but that would make re-reading the series a lot of fun.
While the ending was mostly satisfying and every character you care about gets the send-off (literally!) they deserve, I was disappointed with the meandering dissolution of (view spoiler)[Goddard’s villain arc. Just like the series itself, he peaked in the second book and was turned into a bit of a joke à la TFA’s Crylo Ren, with his temper tantrums and a slew of unreasonable demands. On top of that, we didn’t even get the final showdown against him that I felt the series was building towards. Man just got stabbed in the heart by Rand, and we don’t even know if he ended up getting revived or not. For all I know, he could be terrorising Earth again after Citra and Rowan clocked out to turn to more celestial matters. (hide spoiler)]
Final thoughts: the finale was average in comparison with what Shusterman pulled off in books #1 and #2. The writing was good and finally totally free of the disgusting fatphobia that so heavily polluted �Scythe�. On the whole, I would still recommend the series to readers who love plot twists and prefer plot-driven YA novels over character-driven ones....more
After an exciting first book that provided readers with a fresh take on a dystopian future but which was nevertheless bogged down by a considerable amAfter an exciting first book that provided readers with a fresh take on a dystopian future but which was nevertheless bogged down by a considerable amount of fatphobic comments and a lack of emotional insight, Shusterman proves that he can easily outdo himself by writing a sequel that keeps your eyes glued to the page, always in the anticipation of the next great plot twist and with an ending that is nothing short of explosive.
Picking up roughly a year after the events of Scythe, Thunderhead sees Citra being a fully-ordained Scythe now, who, at the side of her former teacher and mentor, Scythe Curie, spends her days gleaning the way she chooses to while trying to not spend too much time thinking about her friend Rowan, who has now gone rogue, setting himself the task to kill all those Scythes not worthy of carrying the title.
While the novel provides two different narrative strands by separating Citra and Rowan and focusing on their individual arcs that eventually end up becoming one, readers are also introduced to Greyson, an exhonoured and ultimately disgraced former Nimbus agent in service of the Thunderhead. By introducing a new main character of sorts who has nothing to do with the Scythedom, Shusterman broadens the scope of his previously established world and extends it in ways that flesh out his dystopian society as well as the lives of the people in it.
The novel starts with a bang that sees both Citra’s and Scythe Curie’s life in danger, and while some of the focus then shifts to the political and the internal conflicts of the Scythedom, new perspectives are offered alongside, such as an insider view of the world of the Unsavouries as well as an introduction to the ways and lives of the Tonists.
Most importantly, though, this novel does what its title says and intimately familiarises the readers with the great AI, the Thunderhead. There have been a couple of unique and interesting artificial intelligence in sci-fi literature and visual media (hello, HAL 9000 from 2001: A Space Odyssey; AIDAN from Illuminae, M-Bot from Skyward), and it would be insane to not count The Thunderhead among such icons after reading this book. Not only does Shusterman give him what feels like a unique personality, but its interactions with Greyson and the “diary entries� we get from his point of view help in turning the Thunderhead into an entity with a singular voice.
It's hard to talk about the actual plot twists this novel offers without spoiling anything, but as someone whose jaw already dropped several times!! while reading book #1, rest assured that this one made me gasp, say “oh shit� out loud at least twice, shake my head in disbelief, and stay awake until half past midnight (late for me) to finish the book because Shusterman IS. JUST. THAT. GOOD when it comes to writing an ending that will blow your socks off, set your house on fire, and make you feel like you have just watched GOT’s “Red Wedding� all over again.
Thankfully, this novel’s fatphobia was dialled down almost to zero in comparison with its predecessor, and I can recall only two remarks which I thought were fatphobic/in which a fat character was described negatively because of their weight.
The characters� emotional turmoil, however, still does not translate well onto the page. Shusterman remains a tell-don’t-show writer when it comes to his characters� feelings. Not a single ounce of emotional connection between me and the characters, unfortunately. On top of that, he continues writing them as always only reacting TO something instead of divulging what is going on inside of them at times when they are not triggered by an outside event. He reminds me of Christopher Nolan in a way that he can create intriguing characters that, for all that we care about them, possess no emotional intelligence whatsoever. Now, if this were any other story it would not only annoy the hell out of me but majorly influence my rating, too.
However, as this novel is mainly plot-driven, I found I didn’t mind that much as those fantastic twists kept coming, and Shusterman kept me entertained....more
Before we jump into the deep, dark, troubled waters of this novel, let me just inform you that Miss Picky (me), is extremely generous in giving this tBefore we jump into the deep, dark, troubled waters of this novel, let me just inform you that Miss Picky (me), is extremely generous in giving this two stars instead of one because it’s been a month and I have retained next to nothing except for the fact that the MC’s love interest was insanely annoying and Chakraborty took her little easter egg hunt for pop culture references a little too seriously! ...more
Reading this book was certainly an � experience � and while I’m very much on board with saying that the setting and fictional universe created in thisReading this book was certainly an � experience � and while I’m very much on board with saying that the setting and fictional universe created in this book are super unique in their blend of Pacific Rim x The Handmaid's Tale we also live in the year 2022 and I’m tired of storylines and characters touted as the real deal while they are surface level feminist at best.
I can’t even imagine how the author managed to pitch this story; I already have trouble trying to give a non-spoilery synopsis that isn’t two pages long but still gives you an idea of what this novel is about.
Set in an imperial China-inspired country named “Huaxia�, girls like Zetian serve as nothing but human batteries male fighter pilots need to fight Huaxia’s greatest enemy, the Hunduns. Hunduns are huge metal beasts who many decades ago nearly obliterated the human population. To stop them from destroying villages and settlements, the government trains male pilots who, together with their female concubines, pilot Chrysalis � think Pacific Rim-like robots � the only kind of machinery that can kill the Hunduns. But every time a Chrysalis is powered up, a girl dies, their life energy drained to help sustain the energy of the male pilot and his battle robot. After her sister falls victim to “the natural losses of war�, Zetian offers herself up with the plan to kill the pilot responsible for her death.
The idea behind this world and characters that are inspired by historical figures across Chinese history is awesome and completely unique. It feels like the perfect blend between dystopian sci-fi and fantasy with a focus on misogyny and thereby also on women’s rights, femicides, imperialism, and a dash of environmentalism.
However: the descriptions and world-building were entirely lacking considering the scope of that world. I buddy-read this with a friend and we both struggled immensely trying to picture what the Hunduns and Chrysales looked like. I had to imagine the Hunduns looking like huge metal rhinoceroses and the Chrysales like the battle armours from Pacific Rim because there was nothing to hang on to.
This continued throughout the whole book. There was so much talk about what the heroine was thinking and feeling and smelling but God forbid we would get any detailed descriptions of battles or the characters� surroundings. I even had trouble picturing the characters� armour and crowns. The only reason I could picture them at all was thanks to fanart.
The characters themselves seemed at times like total caricatures, at times like really compelling figures:
Don’t get me wrong, Zetian is the MOST unhinged main character I have ever encountered. We’re talking full-on unhinged, like 20/10. She beats Rin (The Poppy War) by miles (don’t get me wrong, I love Rin). And I LOVED it. Female characters in YA (fantasy) novels are too often way too sensible for my taste. Give me the crazy bitches and loony toons women, I beg you.
However, Zetian, for all her ‘feminist� ideals and dreams of making the world a better place for young girls so they are not just seen as objects to be sold by their families to the army, too often came across as being “NoT lIke oTHeR gIRlS.� If there is one thing I knew about the book before I started reading it, it’s that people always seemed to mention its title and “feminist� in the same sentence.
This book is a lot of things, but not “feminist�.
Surface-level feminism at best, it’s trying to sell us a female protagonist who rebels against the patriarchy, who wants to save young girls, who knows that what men are and have been doing to her grandmother's, mother’s and her generation is wrong and that basically, the system is fucked.
Yes, it IS a fucked system but I do expect a book labelled and extensively promoted by its author as ‘feminist� to put its money where its mouth is because there is not a single female character in this book that means well by Zetian. Every woman Zetian encounters is immediately heavily judged by her. They are either weak or bitches or backstabbing snakes, meant to be her rival, betray or kill her....more
kudos to the myquiston's mind-numbing brandification of youth language and teenage slang that made me feel like I was being brainwashed into buying evkudos to the myquiston's mind-numbing brandification of youth language and teenage slang that made me feel like I was being brainwashed into buying every pop-tart-cheeto-peanut-butter-marshmallow-fluffy-tuffy-flavoured sweet or drink that ever existed.
Chloe Green is smart. Smart enough to win valedictorian of the class of �22. The only person standing in her way is Shara Wheeler: prom queen, the principal’s daughter, a good Christian girl and the only one who can hold a candle to Chloe’s brains. That is until Shara vanishes and leaves behind nothing but a trail of pink envelopes that for Chloe, Shara’s jock boyfriend Smith, and Rory, her emo/bad-boy next-door neighbour, swiftly turns into a game of Cluedo. Now it’s about putting together the pieces, solving riddles, and trying to find out where, and most importantly, who, Shara really is. Because if Shara is gone, that’s a forfeit and Cloe Green does not win by default.
I have two, no, three, major complaints regarding this book:
First, I would have given this a higher rating if it hadn’t been for the excruciatingly regular use of brand names that left me feeling like the author received a commission for every mention of Taco Bell, Dairy Queen, Walmart and almost every kind of American candy brand you can think of. Seriously, was there some kind of agreement between the author and half of every beverage and candy brand in Alabama that they received a dollar for every time they brought up their names?
“Taco Bell?� Georgia says, like always. “God, my left boob for a Shake Shack� I dunno what a Shake Shack is but it’s not worth your left boob, Chloe.
“She bought a red Bama shirt� � okay, so, a red shirt? � “sampled each item on the Bojangles menu� � Bojangles?? � “she roasted a chicken by shoving a can of Miller Lite up its ass� � first of all, gross; second of all, I have no clue what you’re saying.
“…the bottom half of her uniform traded for […] Tevas.� Traded for what?
“…were rumoured to have had an explosive breakup in the parking lot that ended in a Baja Blast to the face.� Is that a drink? Ice-cream? Some kind of explosive? A water bomb?
“…both exuding an air of affection that suggests they’d rather be hotboxing Rory’s Beemer right now.�Please don’t let that be a euphemism.
“Didn’t you get fifteen flavors of Laffy Taffy? It was Airheads. That’s right. And I bought a Super Soaker.�Good lord, I don’t even have the energy to look these up. They could be talking about different hoover brands for all I know.
I don’t think I would have bothered looking up what these funky names stand for even if this had been a different book. Is it too much to ask for a single page without a Dairy Queen, Powerade, White Claw or Tootsie Roll being mentioned? Not to mention the shoe brands, the clothing brands, the Urban Outfitters, the Starbucks stores, the-
Second, Chloe is sooooo smart but for ¾ of the book she possesses the emotional self-awareness of a goldfish. She thinks of herself as the only girl in town to be immune to Shara, but whenever Chloe thinks of her and the reader is getting a memory flashback, it’s always “she stared at Shara’s face, […] and the lock of hair tucked there behind her ear and her lip balm catching the light from the window when her mouth moved� and “Chloe recognized her by her delicate quarter profile and the way her blond hair fanned behind her shoulders.� like gurrrrl, we know what you are
Bestie, if you notice how the sunlight illuminates another girl's face and if you notice her lip balm catching the light from a nearby window whenever she says sth, idk, sounds pretty gay to me. ...more
*I guess you could say: this book wasn't my cup of TEA* [image]
If it hadn’t been for the fact that this book was a book-club read, it might have become*I guess you could say: this book wasn't my cup of TEA* [image]
If it hadn’t been for the fact that this book was a book-club read, it might have become my first DNF in years. The only reason I sped through it is that I wanted to be done with it.
A 12-year-old girl named Tea accidentally raises her brother Fox from the dead. She is discovered to be a dark asha, a Bone Witch that can summon dark powers and, well, raise the dead. She is whisked away by another Bone Witch to begin her training at a magic school that trains asha (females who wield magic). The whole setting is Asian-inspired.
This book had me confused from beginning till the end, like thoroughly confused. I have no idea what the names of the countries are that they travel through. Mysterious-sounding names like “the Faceless� would be dropped without being explained. Apparently, they are the villains who trained monsters called daeva to fight for them? I have no idea.
The magic and world-building felt so underdeveloped in this book. The magic system makes zero sense! Everyone wears a heart-shaped (??) necklace called a heartsglass that changes colour depending on one’s mood (so it’s basically just like a mood ring). Some people’s heartsglasses are completely silver or completely black (why and what does that mean? I have no idea). You can also give your heartsglass away (haha, like giving your real heart away), but you would still keep your necklace only that it is empty from then on. You can pay heartforgers to make you a new heart (???), or you can try and find your old one. [image]
Normal asha that are not necromancers can wield the elements like fire, earth, wind, water etc. How do they do that? At what cost? I have no idea, and I read the whole damn book.
The pacing was all over the shop. In the first chapter, Tea raises her brother from the dead. In the second chapter, she is visited by an older Bone Witch taking her away to train her as a dark asha. In the third chapter, they are already on the road? Everything happens so fast, and Tea’s connection with her family, parents, and siblings is never fully explored.
The rest of the book covers Tea’s two years at the asha school. It bored the hell out of me because nothing really happened. It was just Tea’s training and her attending tea parties and scrubbing the toiletries. It’s also weird that this book is marketed as young adult when Tea is only 12-15 throughout the book? The cover and synopsis of this book are so misleading! I read about a literal child who always blushes in the presence of the prince she has a crush on. [image]
The plot was bogged down by overly descriptive writing. Every single hua (sort of like a kimono) the characters wear was described in great detail. After a while, I stopped trying to imagine what their outfits and food looked liked because it was just too much, too often, and too repetitive, and I simply didn’t care.
I wasn’t a fan of the narrative either. It altered between the past and the present. In the present, a 17-year-old Tea recounts her story to an unnamed Bard and in the past, we get to see 12-year-old Tea learning to be a Bone Witch. It made for a choppy reading experience, and the flow of the story was heavily disrupted.
The ending provided a twist (that I didn’t see coming but wasn’t awed by either) and a cliff-hanger which seems to have been put there for the sole purpose of getting people to pick up the next book in the series.
This book left me thoroughly confused for lack of explanation in places where it would have mattered and annoyed for the over-descriptive writing in places where it didn’t matter at all....more
Marianne is the daughter of the most dangerous pirate sailing the Eastern Isles. His crew call themselves “Vi1.5 stars This was garbage. G-A-R-B-A-G-E.
Marianne is the daughter of the most dangerous pirate sailing the Eastern Isles. His crew call themselves “Vipers�, and they are all merciless killers. Marianne has been trained to join them since she was a little girl, but, in her heart, she knows she isn’t a killer. She doesn’t want to join her father’s crew. She’d rather learn to hone her healing skills and help people instead of murdering them. Upon the day of her initiation, she makes her choice and runs away. Leaving behind her life spent on board a ship and her once-trusted friend and companion Bronn. But she knows she can’t run forever because her father will have his revenge.
First of all: the writing. I felt like I was reading a badly-written fanfic most of the time. Here are just a few examples that made me cringe:
“Across the meadow, using the height of the flowers for cover, a she-wolf is prowling towards us, her intent clear. We’re lunch.�
“Hunger I hadn’t realised I had roars to take over.�
“� beady of sweat trickle down my forehead to hang like diamonds from my lashes.�
And one of my personal favourites: “Darkness has me in its unrelenting grip. Revenge is my mistress and I will be obedient.�
To top this, sometimes an incredibly graphic death would follow a cheesy and cringe-worthy paragraph and vice versa. I do love a bit of gore, but it felt like characters were killed for shock factor? Just for the hell of it? One character got their eyes gouged out by Marianne’s father towards the end of the book. Like we needed a reminder that he is the ultimate baddie.
Second: world-building, which was non-existent. We don’t even know how big the world/continent/country the plot takes place in is. All we know is: there is the sea (it doesn’t have a name, okay) and twelves isles. Those twelves isles were once united under one banner, but a war tore them apart. The six Eastern Isles are ruled by a King, but no one really knows what happened to the six Western Isles. No one dares to venture too deep into the Western Isles� waters. The Isles themselves have different names like “Mist Isle� or “Rock Isle� (you see where this is going, don’t you?). We are told about the different isles in little paragraphs of info-dumping, but they are often only described by one characteristic. Like hey, King’s Isle is where the King lives, the Third Isles grows flowers, the Rock Isles is where they mine for minerals. YAWN, YAWN.
Oh, magic also exists in this world/realm/whatever, but it has supposedly disappeared alongside those who know how to wield it. But being the special snowflake Marianne is, of course, she can wield it (which she does by having read a few books and afterwards mumbling a few words). BAM! Of course, the magic system and how it works wasn’t explained.
Third: the plot. Bro, where do I start? The storyline jumped around a lot. Six months go by within a single chapter. Characters are introduced and killed within a dozen pages, broken relationships are repaired, and love is rekindled. The book still felt too long! The ending was very predictable, so when I’d finished the book, I was like: “so?� I simply didn’t care.
Fourth: the characters. They were so flat, haha; it was almost ridiculous. Marianne was very soft and weak, and her “I can’t kill another human being, uwuuu, please don’t make me� attitude annoyed the hell out of me. But then she went on and on about how she had to stop her father and that she would do what she must. All tell, now show. She was a very generic YA characters (lost princess to another kingdom, dead mother, arranged marriage to save the kingdom, in love with her best friend etc.).
The rest of the characters were so one-sided as well. How do you recognise a baddie? Easy: when they are either ugly (missing teeth, eye-patch) or want to rape Marianne within the first few minutes of meeting her, you know exactly who they are. Well done, now you know what all baddies in this book have in common!
Fifth: the love story. There was zero tension between Marianne and her former best friend “who only betrayed her to save her� Bronn. Zill. Null. Nada. At the beginning of the book, Marianne’s father forces her into an arranged marriage with Prince Torin. This, of course, makes Bronn jealous, but Marianne doesn’t yet know he is in love with her. The only relief to this situation was that it wasn’t really a love-triangle, for the prince is in love with his bodyguard (called “Sharpe� damn, that name sucks), which means�
� THE ONLY GOOD THING ABOUT THIS BOOK WERE THE TWO GAY SIDE CHARACTERS....more
Jane Austen truly said: “If you mansplain things to women you’re a piece of dirt; try and be forgiving, loving, kind, generous and gentleman-like instJane Austen truly said: “If you mansplain things to women you’re a piece of dirt; try and be forgiving, loving, kind, generous and gentleman-like instead� and that’s why we have no choice but to stan her.
It is true that the plot of this book is overshadowed by the not-so-hidden social commentary that Jane Austen has cleverly woven in-between the lines. The recurring themes of vanity, selfishness, class difference and greed turn the book into a far more interesting piece of literature than it would have been without them, for the will-they/ won’t-they theme did get a bit tiresome.
The story of the Dashwood sisters Marianne and Elinor and their love lives seems very superficial at first glance. Marianne, the younger of the two, is excessive in showing and displaying her emotions. When she is sad, she cries for days. When she is happy, the whole world will know and nothing can dampen her spirits. But where Marianne is unguarded in her display of emotions, Elinor keeps to herself. Where Marianne is “sensibility�, Elinor is “sense�. The latter is devoted, kind and reasonable � always aware of what society expects of her. The contrast between the two sisters and their views and expectations of love could not be more different. The duality of how they approach the events happening in their life is what moves the plot forward.
Marianne’s behaviour is often fatiguing at best and Elinor’s restrain can drive you up the walls, but this is what makes the character development occurring towards the ending of the book so rewarding. As with any other Austen book, Sense and Sensibility has a great assortment of supporting characters that as always, seem to reflect society as a whole. Everything that can be wrong with society, every fault that can possibly be found within the human psyche is examined, pulled apart, frowned upon or at least commented upon and all this is done in such a witty and clever manner. Jane Austen’s observations are razor-sharp and spot-on. To quote another reviewer: “Jane Austen did not suffer fools gladly�.
While Austen’s writing style allows for a lot of insights into what the characters and especially Elinor are feeling and thinking, the book lacks direct speech and characters directly interacting with each other. This is one of the main reasons why Marianne getting married to Colonel Brandon seems to come out of nowhere. The reader isn’t granted any window into their relationship at all, it all seems to take place “off-stage� and is executed rather poorly and hastily. The two husbands-to-be (Edward and Brandon) have very little ‘on-page� dialogue, they are always talked about instead of doing the talking themselves. The only reason why they don’t appear flat and lifeless is because of Austen’s commentary and descriptions. I, however, felt very removed from them and think it’s a pity that a character as worthless as Willoughby was granted more direct speech than either Edward or the Colonel.
The best things about this book are not to be found on its surface, but rather underneath it. Enduring Marianne’s teenage fits of emotional despair and Elinor’s distanced observations are worth it for the overall hilarious cast of characters and Austen’s on-point social commentaries.
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