I hate that I almost passed up this book simply because of the rather frequent reference to Charlotte and Bramwell Brontë's Angria novelettes (whateve...moreI hate that I almost passed up this book simply because of the rather frequent reference to Charlotte and Bramwell Brontë's Angria novelettes (whatever that is) people can't seem to stop themselves from making when describing the book. I hate, with a driving passion, Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights and that's put me off the whole Brontë clan. And yeah, I know Jane Eyre rocks, I just can't bring myself to read it...
Where was I going with that? Oh, right, regardless of the origins of the idea for this story, there is no discernible link to Victorian literature evident in this novel—much to the benefit of the readers, IMO. The setting is steampunk with Victorian-ish elements (mostly fashion and political/imperial expansion). But those elements are a thin veneer over a great story, told with a modern sense of pacing, and validating modern sensibilities of the role/value of women in society (against a backdrop of Victorian-inspired rules regarding gender etiquette).
I really liked Kadia, the viewpoint character. She's remarkably (but believably) unjaded from two disastrous marriages, coping with the aftermath of her mother's recent death—including the consequence of inheriting a massive new airship that is coveted by the voracious emperor. She’s determined and cheerful and unwilling to put up with simply coasting on her inheritance. And I really liked her choice to be completely honest with John, the love-interest. While it's a reasonable spur-of-the-moment resolution (the only way she was likely to convince him to believe her in that moment), I like that she sticks to it over time. That choice is refreshing in a romantic drama as it prevents so many side-plots and errors of miscommunication that authors often rely on to spice up a courtship.
And I also liked how Wells handled the background regarding the warplings and the things surrounding what we'd call magic. We have Kadia's viewpoint (which is interested, if incomplete) and that gives us a starting point that grows over the course of the story.
The plot is a little predictable, in the end, but overall it was a very enjoyable read. It probably doesn't fully deserve all five stars, but even days after finishing I'm still uncharacteristically charmed with the memory so five stars it is...
A note about Steamy: There are two pretty spicy sex scenes of reasonable length—extremely yummy, and not jarring for the “period”, either (i.e. doesn't assume the sexual freedom of readily accessible and reliable birth control).(less)
This book had a lot of problems, though the biggest isn't really clear until the end.
First off, addicts aren't charming, fun, or engaging as protagoni...moreThis book had a lot of problems, though the biggest isn't really clear until the end.
First off, addicts aren't charming, fun, or engaging as protagonists. And that isn't fixed by letting your protagonist only act the addict when it is interesting or useful to the story. Addictions have serious consequences and in this story, it seemed like Cherry's addiction only really mattered when it was convenient to the author to manipulate Cherry into some situation she wanted her to be in.
Second, that's actually a symptom of a broader tendency by the author—many plot or story aspects only show up when the author needs them to put the character somewhere she wants that character to go. Cherry is a trained acrobat? That's useful to get her to the top of a building, but that only shows up as useful twice in the whole book. The rest of the book, Cherry is a bumbling idiot literally tripping over herself when the author wants her at a disadvantage for a bad-guy. It's embarrassingly incompetent story-craft.
Third, and this is the biggest problem (and related to the first two), Cooper manipulates circumstances to keep secrets she wants to reveal at a later time. The main bad guy is a sleazy jerk who knows Cherry in both her public and private identities. There are only two people he could possibly be (based on storycraft 101) and one of those Cooper goes out of her way to show as kind of sweet. And yet, there are moments during this book when Cherry really should have been able to see him well enough to identify him and yet (completely irrationally), she is unable to do so. At one time, she is pressed up against him with a jagged pipe pressed into the flesh of his throat, and yet the fog is somehow too dense for her to see him? He's exposed from his brow to his chin and she is literally inches away! Fog that dense isn't fog, it's soup. It certainly isn't fog that moments before allowed her to see she was in a narrow alley with bricks on either side.
Add in that Cooper pulls in the all-too-common trope of the character who cannot kill an obviously evil person when she has the chance and I lost all sympathy with Cherry, Cooper, and any future books Cooper may produce. Look, if you know somebody has killed others for kicks (because he admits as much, no less), then if you have the chance to end his depredations and you don't take it that makes you a coward and morally culpable yourself. And not just morally culpable for any future depredations he actually commits but morally culpable for all the depredations he could commit. In short, you are, at that point, committing a grossly evil act.
At the three quarters mark, I made a choice to finish the book just to see if Cooper would reveal who the bad guy was. I'm still not sure why I made it that far in the first place. By the end, I had come to regret that decision as Cooper doubles down on the stupid in every conceivable way.
A note about Steamy: There's a scene of intense and prolonged sexuality, though it is unclear (and denied) that actual sex took place. Yes, drugs were involved, but not in a condoning way. It was actually one of the more interesting parts of the book, and not for prurient reasons.(less)
This book really deserves a four and maybe five stars. I'm just not interested in zombie stories, though, so it didn't really reach me on the level it...moreThis book really deserves a four and maybe five stars. I'm just not interested in zombie stories, though, so it didn't really reach me on the level it probably earned.
At heart, this is a rather fine story about a mother and her son. That eternal, binding relationship that ties two people together through hardships that would otherwise have destroyed them both. Zeke is a boy struggling with ostracism brought on through no fault of his own. As the son of the man who destroyed Seattle through greed and brought the "blight" onto an unsuspecting population, Zeke is looking for redemption, though he doesn't seem to know it—for the father he's never known, maybe, but for himself, certainly.
This yearning for better prompts him to enter the walled-off city center where the blight has been contained—along with the "rotters" whom the blight has transformed into masses of hungry, relentless undead. He doesn't expect to be long because he has prepared. He has his gas mask, a loaded pistol of unknown functionality, and a map that should lead him to his family's one-time home. What he doesn't expect is that his mother, upon learning where he has gone, ends up following him into the abyss in the hope of rescuing him from his folly.
Both mother and son have issues to work through in their journey—both external and internal. They fall in with people still living in the blight, both friends and foes, and have to work their way towards each other and some resolution of their shared inheritance.
This may be the best book I've read with a mother/son relationship at its core. Their relationship is a tenuous one due to the long hours Briar has had to work in the only crap job she can hold (due to her marriage to the madman who destroyed their hometown). She has obviously done her best, and Zeke acknowledges as much—he isn't the spoiled, ungrateful child a lesser author might have made him. But he also chafes under the bitter life he is forced to lead and wants to make things better by proving that his father wasn't the black-hearted monster history paints him to be. And since his mother has refused to tell him anything about those days, he figures he'll have to find out the truth for himself.
Needless to say, Zeke finds more than he bargained for and Briar, well, she does as well. They emerge with a stronger relationship and a mutual trust they hadn't known before. While neither could say their journey had been a "good" one, it's hard to imagine either of them regretting it, in the end.(less)