I've read nearly a hundred books this year. Some of those have been decent, several I can call good, and a handful were really great. But there's beenI've read nearly a hundred books this year. Some of those have been decent, several I can call good, and a handful were really great. But there's been only one book that's lingered in my mind like this. Until now.
Jake Brenner is a twenty year old college drop out of his own volition. He chose music and the band, or more accurately, he chose Jimmy, his best friend, and Chris, his long time crush, over school. After a drunken mishap the band is forced to find a new guitarist and Jake a new roommate.
In walks Parker McAvoy, a mysterious musical genius, who finds a his place with them after a long drifting period. And he quickly finds his way into Jake's heart too.
I spent two days in a reading haze immersed in these boys' lives. I cried, I laughed, and I felt my heart tumble. The characters swept me along with them on this amazing journey from uncertainty and anonymity to certainty and fame. I watched these characters grow and accept change like too few people do.
Most of all, I enjoyed the writing. It didn't drag me down with false bravado, but carried me through the scenes and showed me their emotions effortlessly. The characters stayed true to themselves and their actions made sense, even Parker's whose motives weren't revealed until the end.
And you know how I'm always complaining about the annoying point of view changes usually between first person voice and third limited, well, it turns out it doesn't matter one bit when it's done right. From the beginning the story is scattered with Jake's blog entries and occasional emails, which feel like just extension to the dialogue. Jake's voice is clearest in his postings.
I read the ebook, but I'm still eyeing the hardcover. It's that good.
Merged review:
I've read nearly a hundred books this year. Some of those have been decent, several I can call good, and a handful were really great. But there's been only one book that's lingered in my mind like this. Until now.
Jake Brenner is a twenty year old college drop out of his own volition. He chose music and the band, or more accurately, he chose Jimmy, his best friend, and Chris, his long time crush, over school. After a drunken mishap the band is forced to find a new guitarist and Jake a new roommate.
In walks Parker McAvoy, a mysterious musical genius, who finds a his place with them after a long drifting period. And he quickly finds his way into Jake's heart too.
I spent two days in a reading haze immersed in these boys' lives. I cried, I laughed, and I felt my heart tumble. The characters swept me along with them on this amazing journey from uncertainty and anonymity to certainty and fame. I watched these characters grow and accept change like too few people do.
Most of all, I enjoyed the writing. It didn't drag me down with false bravado, but carried me through the scenes and showed me their emotions effortlessly. The characters stayed true to themselves and their actions made sense, even Parker's whose motives weren't revealed until the end.
And you know how I'm always complaining about the annoying point of view changes usually between first person voice and third limited, well, it turns out it doesn't matter one bit when it's done right. From the beginning the story is scattered with Jake's blog entries and occasional emails, which feel like just extension to the dialogue. Jake's voice is clearest in his postings.
I read the ebook, but I'm still eyeing the hardcover. It's that good....more
Not a double shelving. I read both the Finnish translation and the English original at the same time. Not a double shelving. I read both the Finnish translation and the English original at the same time. ...more
Blunt instruments may have their uses but would you really use a claymore to remove mole when a scalpel will do? Important isn’t a synonym for good. 1 Blunt instruments may have their uses but would you really use a claymore to remove mole when a scalpel will do? Important isn’t a synonym for good. 1984 may be a historically significant book, but a few good, scary ideas don’t make it into a great novel.
We all know that the Thought Police is alive and well—Hey NSA!—But that doesn’t mean we are living in an Orwellian society. George Orwell was too preoccupied in overtly criticising communism and listing his personal (and universal) grievances against the system to write a good story that would stand against the test of time and still be relevant today. Instead of using allegories and symbolism, he went for the brute force of unspeakable horrors and wrote his own anti-communism propaganda manifesto.
Except, are those horrors really that unspeakable? I was born in the 1980’s, went to school in 1990’s and grew up in the midst of global turmoil as one communistic state after another unravelled and democracy took its first wobbly steps right next door—it currently may have fallen flat on its arse but at least it’s trying. I’m not a scholar but I was there when people of oppressed nations learned to speak out again and things bled through the news and into everyday life. I am sure that whatever terroristic acts Orwell portrayed, out in the world there are real people who lived through it. Real, flesh and bone people you can’t help but care about when you hear their stories.
Orwell may have intentionally chosen two write Winston Smith as an everyman, who could be anyone in Britain to let his contemporaries imagine themselves in the Marxist paradise they dreamt of, but in doing so he failed to create an engaging character. If the readers don’t care about a character enough to hate or love him, how is anything that character is put through supposed to affect them? Even when Winston was being a little shit of a child and doing despicable things I didn’t care for him. I wasn’t repulsed by him or upset. I was utterly indifferent to him and subsequently to his plight.
I can sympathise with being watched, spied on, and manipulated on daily basis because that’s the society I live in. I can wince at the beatings, interrogations, brainwashings, random killins, because I know these terrors are real, were real, will be real for quite some time. Objectively I can recognise and react to these things. Objectively. There was nothing in the story that made me want to accept Orwell’s brand of indoctrination and take it as my own. With my propensity to over-counteract I’d probably have latched on to bolshevism instead. Except I know better than that. From real history.
Orwell deserves credit for being one of the first to speak out against communism when no one else would, but this ham-fisted attempt at fiction shouldn’t be placed over the accounts of real terror victims. 1984 still has a place in school as an example on how a blunt instrument—like a claymore—has its moments in history, but it should never be held as an example on how to write a good book. ...more
If the whole thing had been written in third limited, I'd probably finished reading it. DNF at 5%.If the whole thing had been written in third limited, I'd probably finished reading it. DNF at 5%....more
Ilmeisesti varoittavaksi esimerkiksi ja oivalluksen lähteeksi kirjailijan urasta haaveileville tarkoitettu Kutsumus lässähtää lupaavan alun jälkeen töIlmeisesti varoittavaksi esimerkiksi ja oivalluksen lähteeksi kirjailijan urasta haaveileville tarkoitettu Kutsumus lässähtää lupaavan alun jälkeen töksähteleväksi sarjatuli lausannoksi. Kirjan kritiikki kolahtaa omaan nilkkaan, kun teennäisyys ja päämäärättömyys pääsevät valloilleen kuten niin usein käy kotimaisessa kirjallisuudessa....more
I’m rounding up the rating because while it wasn’t as good as the first in the seriesThis review can also be found on Book Girl of Mur-y-Castell-blog.
I’m rounding up the rating because while it wasn’t as good as the first in the series I really enjoyed reading the book.
As Ia advances through the ranks of the Terran Space Force she continues to walk that very thin line between lie and deceit in the best interest of all humanity. It takes her to the Navy Academy and pilot school… and I lost count on how many things I’m misrepresenting in my review. Military isn’t my forte.
The world of future is still there, only expanded and further explored. The ever changing character gallery introduces new faces and names all the time while rotating a couple of familiar names to focus for a while. There were some I’d missed but didn’t see, and there were some I hadn’t missed but glad to see all the same.
What’s different to the first book is the shifting focus onto Ia’s character growth. Johnson doesn’t switch genres in the middle of a series but she does spend some time on illuminating through the interactions with her family who Ia was before she became hell bent on saving the galaxy, and who she could be if she wasn’t so stubborn to not allow anything for herself.
And that’s where this book’s greatest weakness lies.
Ia does find her Achille’s heel, which was something I’d been waiting to see from the very start. Just as Johnson, Ia doesn’t quite know what to do with it, but she tries. And it would have worked—adequately—hadn’t that revelation discussion been botched. In my opinion Johnson fails to hit that precious balance between avoiding repetition and doing justice to the character—Ia’s blind spot in this case. What I read was rushed and unsatisfactory instead of a poignant scene between two people facing and accepting a personal tragedy. I am glad, though, that the heel wasn’t completely forgotten and I’m hoping that as the series progresses the character gets a chance to pervade Ia’s life just as Bennie has.
I like Bennie and hope to see much of her in the future. August can’t come soon enough....more
Usually, I prefer more character driven stories. Although this book is told from Ia’s point of view and partly narrated in her voice—there are short nUsually, I prefer more character driven stories. Although this book is told from Ia’s point of view and partly narrated in her voice—there are short notes from the character at the beginning of each chapter—it’s far from an emotional and introspective journey. Instead, Johnson concentrates on the world building and plotting Ia’s military career from basic training to her first officer’s post.
I don’t read nearly as much scifi as I’d like to, but I do read fantasy and that’s what drew me in here. This is the first book of a much bigger series, an introduction to a future world and the world beyond that place and time. I remember reading Game of Thrones and complaining that it was just an eight hundred page prologue to an even bigger story. Here, the book is four hundred pages and there is a semblance of a personal story there, but only the first step of it.
Because of her precognitive abilities and sense of responsibility, Ia has pushed aside all her personal feelings and aspirations. This doesn’t only show on the back cover blurb but in the book itself. Ia is fully concentrated on optimising her future and the path she must take to save her home galaxy. She occasionally refers to her family and friends, but mostly she’s pushing herself from one fight to another and manipulating the events to her advantage. She doesn’t always succeed perfectly, but she’s also yet to fail miserably.
As the story continues, I wish I’ll learn more about the person Ia hoped to become before that nightmare she saw at fifteen. I wish she’ll stumble and fall, badly, only to pick herself up again and maybe find a new path, a better path for herself and for the galaxy. I wish to see her grow as a character and I wish there’ll be more time for the people around her. I wish she’ll learn that she’s not better off being alone in this.
But I think I’ll be content combing through the battle heavy pages for the subtle hints of her character building as long as I learn more about this rich world Johnson has created.
I never thought I’d like a military books, but I guess there’s a right time for everything. It certainly was the right time for me to read this book. Thanks for Aurian to recommending and gifting this book to me....more
Kun kyyhkyset katosivat jatkaa synkkien kertomusten sarjaa Neuvosto-Viron lähihistoriasta. Jälleen kerran tarinan keskiössä ovat kahdessa aikalinjassa kulkevat mutta yhteenkietoutuvat tapahtumat. Jokainen Oksasen teoksia lukenut osaa päätellä tämän verran jo lukujen postimerkeistä.
Toisen maailmansodan tuoksinnassa Viro jäi ensin Neuvostoliiton, Saksan ja uudelleen Neuvostoliiton jalkoihin. Tavalliset ihmiset kamppailivat nälkää ja miehittäjiä vastaan tai antautuivat vaikutusvallan vietäväksi. Jotkut sortuivat tiedonantajiksi tahtomattaan, toiset pyrkivät miellyttämään valtaapitäviä hinnalla millä hyvänsä, ehkäpä jopa oman identiteettinsä kustannuksella. Toisille nimestä luopuminen oli ainoa keino varjella rakkaimpiaan.
Sota tekee rikollisia meistä kaikista. Sota tekee meistä selviytyjiä.
Sen kummempaa sanomaa en usko löytäneeni tästä teoksesta ja sekin uhkasi kadota ärsyttävien tyyliseikkojen hyökyaallon alle. Oksasen proosa on itsessään edelleen kaunista, mutta romaanin rakenteessa olisi ollut hiottavaa. Tuntui kuin Oksanen olisi yrittänyt pakottaa mysteeriä sinne, missä selkeys olisi ollut palkitsevinta. Lopun yllätykset — kolme omien laskujeni mukaan — olivat kaukaa nähtävissä alun sekavuudesta huolimatta.
Englanninkielisen kirjallisuuden lukeminen on tehnyt minusta yliherkän ensimmäisen ja kolmannen persoonan kerrontojen sekoittamiselle. Minulla ei ole mitään hetkellistä — virkkeen tai pari kestävää — sukeltamista henkilöhahmon ajatuksiin, mutta kokonaisten lukujen pituiset vaihdot tuntuvat laiskuudelta. Jos kirjailija haluaa laajentaa kertomustaan useampaan näkökulmaan, miksei hän myös kertoisi kaikkea kolmannessa persoonassa sen sijaan että asettaa yhden henkilön ylitse muiden muttei kuitenkaan kerro koko tarinaa tämän perspektiivistä? Vaikken Riikka Pulkkisen Totta-romaanista pitänytkään, ainakin siinä tällä tehokeinolla oli tarkoituksensa.
Laatukirjallisuutta, mutta Oksaselta odottaa parempaa.
***
Sometimes the oppressors win.
Kun kyyhkyset katosivat (When the pigeons disappeared) continues the series of bleak tales about Soviet Estonia. Once again within the story events of two timelines intertwine. Anyone who has read a book written by Oksanen can deduce this from the stamps in the chapter titles.
Estonia was overrun by Soviet Union, Germany, and Soviet Union again in the Second World War. Ordinary people battled with hunger and against their occupiers. Or they let themselves be swept away by the authority and influence. Some became informants against their will, others aimed to please the powerful at any price—even at the expense of their own identities. For others giving up a name was the only way to protect their loved ones.
War makes criminals of us all. War makes us survivors.
I don’t think I found any deeper meaning than that in this book, and even that was almost overrun by the annoying style points. Her prose is as beautiful as ever, but the structure of the novel could have used a bit more work. It felt like Oksanen was trying to create mystery where there was none. Clarity would have been more rewarding. The plot twists in the end—three by my count—were all predictable despite the messy beginning.
Reading English literature has made me oversensitive to mixing first and third person voices. I don’t mind quick—lasting a sentence or two—plunges into the the psyche of the character, but chapter long switches stink of laziness. If the author wants to expand her narration into several viewpoints, why wouldn’t she also tell it all in third person voice? Why would she place one character above all others but not important enough to tell the whole story from their perspective? Although, I didn’t like True by Riikka Pulkkinen, at least in that the narrative device had its purpose.
It’s quality literature, but my expectations for Oksanen were higher....more
Takakansi lupaa teoksen olevan “täsmäkirja kuntauudistuksen kourissa kiemurtelevaan maahan”. Ja sitähän se onkin: kirjan alkusivuilla. Heikkisen kritiTakakansi lupaa teoksen olevan “täsmäkirja kuntauudistuksen kourissa kiemurtelevaan maahan”. Ja sitähän se onkin: kirjan alkusivuilla. Heikkisen kritiikki on terävimmillään alussa asetelman luonnissa. Lyhyt kuvaus siitä kuinka Suomi päätyi sisällissodan kynnykselle on hupaisa ja tarkka. Valitettavasti siihen se kosto fantasia sitten jääkin.
Jo muutaman kappaleen jälkeen tarina latistuu syrjäytyneiden sotaintoilijoiden – siis keski-ikäisten miesten – elämän kuvaukseksi. Tuntemattoman Koskelaa ihannoiva Jesse Purola ja Helsingin herroihin kyrpiintynyt Oula ovat pullamössö poikia kumpainenkin. Leluilla ja vekottimilla leikitään, mutta todellisesta sodasta tuskin tietää kumpainenkaan. Maahanmuuttaja Abdi ja pohjoisen räppäri lisäävät tarinan miesnäkökulmaan omat ulottuvuutensa.
Ei naisiakaan ole unohdettu: ei ainakaan porontaljoilta. Ainoa jokseenkin ihmisen oloinen naishahmo kirjassa on toimittaja Aino Riski. Työhönsä tympääntynyt kasvisruokavalionsa kanssa poroalueella kamppaileva tyttö sortuu sitten haastateltavaansa ja katoaa irrallisia lehtijuttuja lukuun ottamatta kirjan sivuilta lähes kokonaan.
Ja kun alun huumorikin uupuu yksittäisiksi anekdooteiksi, ei kirjasta minulle paljon iloa irronnut....more
This reads more like a man's desperate attempt to make sense of a language, a culture, and a history behind them that is wholly different from his ownThis reads more like a man's desperate attempt to make sense of a language, a culture, and a history behind them that is wholly different from his own, than it reads like a novel about an amnesiac man searching for an identity through a new language.
I appreciated the historical accuracy, but can only hope that the mispelled Finnish words are the translator's fault rather than the original author's. As I said in one of my status updates, it's good for linguistic laughs. ...more
I should know better than to trust awards by now. Judges and critics seem to love all things pretentious. Why exactly did I think this would be differI should know better than to trust awards by now. Judges and critics seem to love all things pretentious. Why exactly did I think this would be different?
It might have been the idea. That there is a book of universe where all hours--all that was, all that is, all that could be--are written down. That you can change the world by scratching the vellum, spilling the ink, jumping from one page to another. That there is madness in the chaos and that madness has a seed of truth and reason in it if we only look closely enough.
Well, I tried and I couldn't find any. I'm giving up at the end of part one and on page 267 of 602. I don't know if everything suddenly makes sense on the last page, because I don't do that. I don't jump to the last page to see if a book will end the way I want it to before deciding to read it. The ending isn't what matters to me, the journey in between the covers is.
This reads like something written by and to a schizophrenic. The writing is slow, it switches between first and third person limited and has multiple points of views. The protagonists change names as they change times and phases in their lives. The chapters are long but the paragraphs are too short for any kind of real immersion to the story. Instead being more and more intrigued by the surfacing layers I found myself thrown out of the story time and time again. And finally, it was just too much.
Reading Vellum reminded me of reading The Lord of the Rings; I could see the brilliance but I was just too damn bored to fully appreciate it....more
Some time ago--probably a year or two back--I saw a paperback copy of this book in the bookshop. I glanced at the Well, wasn't that a disappointment.
Some time ago--probably a year or two back--I saw a paperback copy of this book in the bookshop. I glanced at the blurb and thought interesting, but put it back and decided to look it up in the library. Aren't I glad I did.
It wasn't the sketchy science that I found unpalatable. I'm too lazy to look up the real numbers but I can smell circular mathematical reasoning when I stumble on it. By nature I'm an easy sell. Just put some effort into the storytelling, make sure your basic facts are straight, and I'll suspend disbelief long enough to breeze through the book and won't notice a thing. Of course once someone else points out the failures I'll happily join in on the lambasting.
And by put some effort into the storytelling I mean, have the characters act like the rational, slightly cynical but impossibly curious scientists they're supposed to be. I've seen actual physicists act like children at the face of some new exiting data--I felt it--and I wasn't even in position to understand what was so damn intoxicating about it.
Dominique did not in any way fit the mould. Usually that would be a good thing to say about a character, but not when she's supposed to be an abuse survivor dealing with her past by becoming a clinical psychologist. I could have understood a moment or two of weakness at the face of an emotional dilemma, but I could not tolerate her bawling at every single turn. Psychology is different from physics or archeology, but she's gone through the school and the moves. Unless she's bought every single test and article she's written for her professors, her first plan of attack towards Mick's hallucinations would be to verify the facts from independent sources. She did not. Any academic should know better and that the author would brush it aside so makes me doubt his qualifications.
Then again, I know nothing about sport medicine.
But I do know a thing or two about story telling.
The mixing of first and third person limited narratives didn't work. Having finished the book I can appreciate what the author was trying to do with Julius' journal entries, but it did not work. The beginning was too slow and bogged down by the numerology-would-be-archeology and choosing Dominique as the main character from whose point of view to introduce the alternative world, did not work. Failures in her characterisation prevented me from connecting with the story. Once the focus was shifted to Mick and the actual thriller part was embraced, I could see why people could--some would--like this very much.
I've already mentioned characterisation failures, but I've said nothing about the villains. Borgia is the most interesting character of the lot and he has some kind of background to justify his actions. However Foletta, Raymond, Groznyi, and every other nameless halfwit doesn't. I've only taken few basic courses but reading about these characters made me sincerely wish that Alten would invest in a few psychology course books help him write human beings and how they interact with others. Then again, if my guess about the sequel is correct, he didn't need to. Not that I'm in a hurry to find out.
The fact that this book was written over a decade ago shows. With some things Alten gets very close to today's technology but other things made me shake my head. As always the human factor distances his view of status quo from the reality. People die, people cheat, people get elected to office.
Also, I'm not convinced by his chosen method of intimidation. Somehow failing economy and the possibilities it creates with new world order(s) seems scarier than a nuclear holocaust. After all, I doubt I'd have to live through the latter considering my geographical location so close to St. Petersburg.
One last note. This was the last book I expected to read a bad romance in. I have read enough actual romances for that, I don't need it in my science fiction....more
Zach is on his way to LA and as far away as he can get from London. He only has six mThis review can also be found on Book Girl of Mur-y-Castell-blog.
Zach is on his way to LA and as far away as he can get from London. He only has six more weeks to go, but first, he’s asked to edit one more manuscript. The catch is, the novel is an erotica written by Nora Sutherlin. That same novel means more to Nora than anything else she’s written and she wants to get it right. She’s desperate enough to give Zach total control over it.
The blurb promises gruelling, draining, and shockingly arousing writing sessions, which are notably absent from the book. There is writing, there are sessions, there are shredded scenes, and there are excerpts from the book within the book—something I particularly disliked mostly because of the dip in quality—none of which were the reason for my rating.
The word I’m stumbling over is the last one in the list—arousing.
Once again, I’m the odd man out; I don’t get the appeal.
Reisz can write well and there were certain things I enjoyed reading. I mostly liked the banter between characters and the characterisations. I liked the fact that none of them were boring or insufferably honourable and good. I liked that they were flawed.
I adored Wes. He was used to mirror Nora’s relationship with Søren and I kept thinking he was better than that, that he deserved to get away. As good a guy as he was, as vanilla, he never came across as sanctimonious. Quite the opposite, he knew his flaws, just like he recognised Nora’s flaws and accepted them. He was honest with himself.
Unlike Zach. The Jewish—a very important fact that—Zachary or Zechariah Easton had to quite literally have the truth beaten out of him. That certainly didn’t add to his nonexistent appeal, but I’m glad someone found him appealing if it takes him far away from the story. Zach also earned the label too stupid to live for not figuring out or at least suspecting what Nora’s day job was.
Søren, Nora’s old Dom, let’s just say that I liked him much more with the robes on than off and that I didn’t understand why he’d care for Nora on any level. Although, I wouldn’t mind reading more about his flavour of mind-fuckery as long as it was kept out of the dungeon-hell. As a turn on, Søren fails.
J.P., Kingsley, and Mary, were among the supporting cast I’d like to know more about, but not as much as I was left wanting layers for the office villain. He was an example of a lazy characterisation and especially disappointing compared to the effort put into the main cast.
And then there was Nora Sutherlin, the author and pseudonym for Eleanor Schreiber. The woman, the Switch, who’s not afraid of her sexuality or playing the game. In fact, I think that might be the only thing she’s not afraid of, the game. Nora only ever came close to being honest with herself and facing her own feelings when she was with Wes. I’d go as far as to call her a coward that’s how busy running from herself she was. And all I have for a coward is pity.
No, Nora isn’t a likeable main character, but being a user and a bitch doesn’t make her strong either. It simply makes her interesting and that’s where the strength of this novel is—in the characters.
But. There’s more.
Or rather, there isn’t. The Siren is an erotica but very unerotic at that. I’m not a fan of pain and I don’t particularly get excited by the forbidden aspect of sex—hazards of having been born a Finn with a mother who never shut up about the human reproduction when I was growing up and living in a sauna culture where the most natural state of man is in the nude. The closest I came to finding anything erotic in this book was when Nora was with Wes, Michael, or Sheridan. That’s when she let little bit of her armour slip away, emotions trickle out and almost show intimacy.
At this point, I feel like I’m repeating myself, because I’ve written it so often lately. I could list a spoilery list of events—which include (view spoiler)[hints of blood play, a sex scene with an underaged boy, a f/f BDSM scene, multiple occasions of beatings leading to face injuries, casual dismissal of the law enforcement, a rape, an unrealistic office fight, bringing religion into sexuality, infidelity saving a marriage (hide spoiler)]—and not see a plot in it. But apparently that’s okay, because Nora’s introduces the reader and Zach to the shocking horrors of BDSM life. I only half-kid. The pure BDSM shocked and horrified me about as much as it aroused me, which is to say very little.
To be perfectly honest, I was bored. It didn’t take me days to finish reading the book because I was savouring the story; it took me days because reading a sex scene after another became a chore. Neither did the manufactured confrontations or Nora’s assumed self-sacrifice help. I only devoured the pages when there was emotional torture or those rare moments honesty for example when Søren was telling Nora off or when was Wes his adorable self.
All this left me thinking that this would have been a much better book without the sex and wishing Reisz had written a deliciously twisted character drama centering around something other than kink. As well written as The Siren is, it’s not enough to make it a good book.
Just to make this clear: Yes, I was trying out a new genre. No, I was not expecting a romance. Yes, I still think the book failed. ...more
The constant slipping between first and third person limited in the narration is bringing the rating down. I don't think this was the sharpest le CarrThe constant slipping between first and third person limited in the narration is bringing the rating down. I don't think this was the sharpest le Carré I've read and I've only read three of his books so far. Also, to fully understand the ending, it helps if you're German. Or European. Or (view spoiler)[non American (hide spoiler)]....more
When I started reading this book, I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I had never read a Luanne Rice novel before and I only knew that I likWhen I started reading this book, I didn't know what I was getting myself into. I had never read a Luanne Rice novel before and I only knew that I liked the cover. And that I liked weird novels.
The blurb promises a story of two generations meeting, estranged sisters and a family tragedy. It reminded me a lot of Purge and that, unfortunately, raised my expectations to unrealistic proportions.
Where Oksanen uses a family tragedy to describe the horrors of two or three lost generations, Rice's story is smaller. So much more intimate. She contents herself with describing a family tragedy on a more personal level. She explores how abuse affects not only those within the immediate family unit, but the people around them, the extended family and their friends.
Clare watches her sister's new husband isolate her from everyone she's known before. Parent's and sister aren't welcome in their house; they are something to be left behind. Clare watches her sister change from afar until she can't take any longer. She picks a time for a visit and tries to reconnect with her sister. Instead of taking Anne and her children away, Clare ends up saving her sister's life and being sent to jail for an assault. Eighteen years later, it's time for Clare's niece to visit unexpectedly.
I was really looking forward to reading about Clare dealing with her sister's betrayal and trying not to project those feelings onto her niece, Grit. Instead, I read about her unrealistic forgiveness and neverending longing for the sister of her childhood.
I've seen what a betrayal of a close family member does. to a person. I've seen what taking them to court and lying there does. When someone who is your flesh and blood does that to you, you don't simply turn on the blinders and say: "He made her do it. He's at fault." No. You pretend they're dead, because what kind of mother does that to her child. Not a living one.
Only bond closer than the one between a mother and a daughter I can imagine is that one between two sisters. A sister who betrays you isn't a sister at all. People react differently, you say. They do, but wholly without anger? I think not. Clare never expresses any anger or rage at her sister. She's the virtuous, too good to be true woman who forgives.
That's where this novel fails, for me. It wasn't in the wonderfully fantastical, fairytaleish quality of the writing. It wasn't focusing on more than one person's point of view. It wasn't even in my pet peeve of switching between first and third person limited narratives.
It was in the lack of character growth for Clare. She might have learned to open herself up to Paul, but she never really worked through her issues with her sister. At least Grit went through the stages of grief and dealing with her hate and anger and rage against her mother. At least Grit admitted she'd been betrayed and learned to forgive.
The story of these three women could have been truly magical instead of just pretending to be it.
I received an Advanced Readers Copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley....more
In what Kirkus Reviews calls a “vibrant, accomplished debut-”
Kirkus Reviews and I have a different definition of vibLet's look at the blurb, shall we.
In what Kirkus Reviews calls a “vibrant, accomplished debut-”
Kirkus Reviews and I have a different definition of vibrant but I'll give them the accomplished debut. Although I couldn't name names or titles, I'm sure I must have read worse debut books than this. In fact, compared to most regularly published authors Sharlach is off to a stunning start. But a vibrant debut? No.
RUNNING IN BED tells the story of a young gay advertising executive struggling to find himself and true love in 1970’s New York.
This is the plot summary. If we were to add Rick R. Reed'sCaregiver from the boyfriend's point of view you'd have the whole story mapped out for you.
Josh is a young man fresh out of school who has moved into the big city and to his first real job. He's still under the illusion that being gay is wrong and unnatural, but with good friends he learns to accept himself the way he is. Then he starts his bumpy road to true love and spends quite a lot of his time sleeping with the frogs hoping to wake up with his Prince in the morning.
As this is going on, the author...
Author Jeffrey Sharlach paints a brilliant picture of life for a gay man at that moment in history. From the streets of Greenwich Village to summers on Fire Island to the dawn of AIDS-
That's the one part of this book I truly enjoyed. Reading about the evolution of Gay Pride parade, GRID to AIDS, film and video, technology. All the details were such that only someone who has spent half his life researching or lived through those events could have written them in so casually. If you'll read the acknowledgements you'll realise Sharlach did both.
Sharlach writes with humor, poignancy, and charm, presenting characters who are universal in their appeal.
And here is my problem. There's humour in this story, not my kind of humour but humour nonetheless. Poignancy comes with the territory when dealing with life and society altering deadly diseases. AIDS didn't only change the lives of the people who contracted it, it changed the lives of those around them, the families and doctors and lawmakers. The humane loss is always poignant.
Charmed, however, I was not.
Running in Bed read like an extended diary entry. No time was spent on storytelling. Josh's siblings were mentioned moments before their existence became relevant for the discussion with his parents. A lot of time was spent on Josh pining over Tommy, but it was never shown why Josh came to care for and love him. It never felt like a love story, and I kept waiting Josh to grow out of his fancy for Tommy's looks and start a real relationship with someone he respected. Instead of being told a story, I got a fictionalised memoir of a man who happened to live through the initial turmoil of AIDS and the rise of gay pride.
Like Rick R. Reed's Caregiver, Sharlach's Running in Bed suffers from detachment. The story is told dispassionately leaving me as a reader very little to grab ahold of. For all the things Josh's inner commentary reveals, I still don't know what makes him tick. He never became alive to me.
Running in Bed’s incomparable, evocative images will resonate with readers, regardless of their personal persuasion.
I see they're trying to market this as hetero friendly LGBT novel, and on a certain level it is that: There are no explicit gay sex scenes.
Whether or not you'll agree with me about the lack of resonance and evocative images, this is a well written book that tells you what life was like for a young gay man in the dusk of the seventies and in the dawn of the eighties.
Just please, don't expect it to be emotionally overpowering.
I received an Advanced Readers Copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley....more
This is a story of a girl with a difficult family history–to put it mildly–who enters the underworld alive through the gateway of the White Oak. As yoThis is a story of a girl with a difficult family history–to put it mildly–who enters the underworld alive through the gateway of the White Oak. As you can imagine, a living person in the world of the dead can cause quite a stir.
I haven't read Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, but I imagine that's the sort of effect Kim White was aiming for. Cora's journey to and through the underworld is imaginative warping of old legends but the method of storytelling leaves something to be desired.
The text's magic begins with a clear first person present voice that instantly bewitched me. As Cora stood by her father's grave, I stood there with her. As she fell and struggled in the sinkhole, I struggled with her. As she immersed in the cold underground river, I nearly drowned with her.
This spell, however, was broken in the second chapter with the first point of view switch. White not only gives voice to Cora, but also to her twin brother Lucas, and the deceptive Minotaur guiding her through the underworld. I'm not a fan of multiple point of view narratives on best days, but two first person and one third limited voices is simply too much. It's enough to distance the most ardent reader.
What's worse, I can't see what Lucas' and Minotaur's voices add to the story. I guess they were the author's attempt to add tension, but I felt they were draining what little excitement Cora's chapters managed to create.
Then there's the series issue. This is the first book of four and it ends with a cliffhanger. To be completely honest, I felt a bit cheated by the ending, because nothing was resolved despite a chapter called The Verdict. What exactly was the point of Cora's adventure and what did she accomplish? I admit my ignorance could be due to lack of attention from my part, but I simply wasn't interested enough.
I received an Advanced Readers Copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley....more
Imagine you’re listening to the radio. A song comes up you’ve never heard before. You don’t know the band, but you like the quiet, melancholic melody.Imagine you’re listening to the radio. A song comes up you’ve never heard before. You don’t know the band, but you like the quiet, melancholic melody. You stop to listen and the more you do, the more you like it. Except, you’re waiting for the song to take flight. You’re waiting for something to happen, something to take the song to the next level and surprise you. It never happens.
That’s what happened to me with this book. I wanted to like it better than I did.
Itäranta writes beautifully, but her story also falters and stumbles on preachiness in the beginning. She uses repetition and a book ending for this small story that—unfortunately—remains small. I didn’t feel like Itäranta made the oppression and horrors of a dry future awful and dejected enough to justify the lie told in the epilogue. I didn’t feel like she’d earned it.
I mentioned the preachiness. It seems to be contagious. Every (other or third) Finnish book that I pick up seems to somehow describe the horrors of natural disasters and a future we as a human race have squandered. That’s fine message to be told, but I don’t appreciate being forced to swallow the utter condemnation of men while turning the pages. After all, these are authors living in today’s world relying on peddling their wares to the very people burying their childrens’ children in plastic tombs if these authors are to be believed.
I love the fact that Finnish and Scandinavian authors in general seem to trust their readers’ intelligence, but I wish they trusted us a bit more. A refrain repeated endlessly is never as effective as a slow realisation coming from within.
If you’ve read the book, you might think my review slightly contradictory, but it’s not. Part of it is criticising the what and a part of it is criticising the how. In both, I was expecting more than I got.
Still, this novel falls on the side of “OK” rather than “bad but didn’t hate it” of my two star rating....more
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