3.5*. 2* to start, 5* once he hit the afterburners at the halfway mark. So much so that it made me angry that a third of the way in I was ready to scr3.5*. 2* to start, 5* once he hit the afterburners at the halfway mark. So much so that it made me angry that a third of the way in I was ready to scrap it because (view spoiler)[he did the same thing at the beginning here as he did for the car crash at the end of Us Against You, only for a hundred twenty-eight damned pages of teasing different people he might kill to bring Benji and Maya home. (hide spoiler)]
As others have said, much of the first half is repetition yet it's still nowhere near enough to make it readable as a stand-alone book. But once he decides it's time to stop telling and start showing, it's another gripping story with characters actually growing, finally, and new characters that make meaningful contributions. (view spoiler)[Although Leo still isn't quite a real person. (hide spoiler)]...more
As much as I enjoyed the premise, the execution here was spotty at best. The author acknowledges in the foreword that this manuscript largely sat on tAs much as I enjoyed the premise, the execution here was spotty at best. The author acknowledges in the foreword that this manuscript largely sat on the shelf for 17 years, and that leads to too many asides where he takes us out of the flow of the season to let us know how (for example) Jamie Cureton reflected much later on his time with Busan I'Cons, or to point out where 2020 technology would have fixed a problem or a certain practice rang oddly in a post-COVID world. Readers can figure those last few out on their own, and reminiscences would have been better saved for a few critical points. As is, I'm reading with 75% of my brain in 2003, but 25% in 2020 because the author keeps reminding me that's where he is now, and it's not a good experience.
And I think the reason the manuscript languished for so many years is that the author simply couldn't find a reason for us to care. The results on the pitch are awful; Ian Porterfield's managerial style is best described as self-harm; Jamie Cureton's half-season becomes a footnote in an incredible itinerant career up and down the English football pyramid; the team barely escapes being moved after a season of attendance even worse than the football. Rowcliffe wants to share Korean football and Busan's fan culture rather than making it about himself, and that's laudable, but we never get to know any of the Korean fans or players as more than names on a sheet. I'm left to guess that he didn't have the language skills to engage past a superficial level -- he doesn't want to be the story, but he doesn't seem to have access to the story he's trying to tell. The result is that the whole narrative feels curiously distanced, save a few rants from Porterfield. And that alienation is the expat experience, but Rowcliffe won't let me care about him to share that feeling....more
Just the low side of 3.5. I like the concept, the world-building is thoughtful, and I believe most of the characters. Another reviewer pointed out thaJust the low side of 3.5. I like the concept, the world-building is thoughtful, and I believe most of the characters. Another reviewer pointed out that after the divergence between the UDPs' timeline and ours seemingly everything changed, and I'd agree that's a little excessive. At the same time I wanted to learn more about their timeline, though clearly the point of the book isn't that world so much as the refugee experience.
The only major element that didn't work for me was the excerpts from The Pyronauts. I couldn't get enough into that story in what little we had of it for it to work. Another minor scene near the end of the book could have been done a little better and probably wasn't strictly necessary to the storyline, but it at least made sense....more
Loading...
