The problem with marketing a book as "one of the most entertaining novels of the year" is that you have to work veFirst published at Lit Addicted Brit
The problem with marketing a book as "one of the most entertaining novels of the year" is that you have to work very hard very quickly to convince people that you are either quite droll or an extremely gifted author. "Magnus Flyte" (a pseudonym for the writing duo of Meg Howrey and Christina Lynch) is neither. I'm sorry but City of Dark Magic is ridiculous. I'll end on a positive-ish note but before that there will be much derision. If you would like to skip ahead to the smile-y bit or skip the rant, please do - I'll meet you there in a few moments.
Sarah Weston is perhaps one of the most irritating and...weird main characters that I have ever read about. I know that having a "good nose" for things is an actual saying but it should not be extended to including smelling emotions. It is not possible to smell envy, no matter what drugs you're taking. Maybe it was intended to be quirky or maybe it was just to make sure the reader understands just how good Ms Weston's intuition really was but I was one comment about her flipping nose away from throwing my eReader a long way away from me. You might think I'm getting a little over-excited about one bad analogy but really this is just one example of the bizarre writing style. Quirky I like, daft and erratic I do not.
Not only does Sarah have an unnaturally sensitive nose, she also seems to have a dangerous libido. On arriving in Prague, Sarah manages to inadvertently have sex with someone whose identity remains a mystery for quite a number of pages. I would hate to disrespect women generally by using any offensive or derogatory terms and I am all for liberty but...no. And then Sarah falls in love with the "handsome Prince Max". He is rude, uncommunicative, seemingly a bit loopy, aggressive and anti-social. Every girl's dream, I'm sure. Not a fan of InstaLove? Sarah and Max's relationship is about as "Insta" as it gets. One minute he's slamming doors in her face and ignoring her, the next he's swearing to protect her and getting arrested because of their irrepressible...connection. Why? I still don't know.
Not all of the characters are annoying - Pollina, a young musical prodigy, is intriguing and Nico, a four-hundred year old dwarf, is cynical and managed to illicit a couple of smiles. I would also have been happy to read more about some of Sarah's fellow academics. There is very little character development, though, and my enthusiasm about the cast is pretty lacklustre.
So that's the main character and her love interest, what else can I criticise? Ah, yes. The plot. It was actually the plot that drew me to the novel in the first place. I *loved* the idea of a scholar of the works of Beethoven travelling to Prague to sort through sheet music in search of revelations and prepare a museum exhibit. Despite a strong start in this regard, it was disappointing when Sarah got so caught up with her "romance" that she all but abandoned her research in favour of gallivanting about with Max. The plot was scatty, at best. There were times when I was sure that I was now settled into the substantive plot and that the story would gain some traction, only to find in a few chapters that I was settling into a tangent that would abruptly be abandoned. APPARENTLY there is some link between a historic Czech family and the Golden Fleece (yes, THAT Golden Fleece) but we were too busy being dragged about town seeing the past but not being in it to really get into that particular thread. There are some attempts at rationalising and explaining the more fantastic aspects of the story but they didn't really make any sense and involved the eating of Beethoven's toenails so I remain unconvinced. It read a bit like a plan made under the influence of alcohol: pretty ludicrous when viewed in the light of day but seems amazing at the time of inception. I would also mention the political "intrigue" but there is only so much vitriol that I feel as though I can direct toward any one work of fiction.
I suspect that the array of loose ends are to lure me back to the series for the second "adventure". You might have gathered that that is one release that I am by no means clamouring for.
Let's end on a high: Prague is one of the most beautiful and mysterious cities that I have been to and is a fabulous setting for a paranormal novel with some historical twists. Even a few pages describing the historical capital will pull me in and go a good way to helping me forgive a book's faults. If I wasn't in my positive paragraph, I might have pointed out that there were far too few such pages and that most of the book could have been set in any large European historical building for all of the advantage the authors took of Prague's magic. Thank goodness I'm in my positive paragraph, right? Right.
Overall: I can't in all good conscience recommend this to anyone. It's been a long time since I've read something that I felt compelled to say that about. You have to go some way to make a story that includes time travel, Beethoven, Prague, guns and castles so annoying that I will unhesitatingly warn you away. Remember that before you decide whether or not you want to pick up City of Dark Magic....more
I'm beginning to think that my status as a bona fide wimp may be in jeopardy. This is the second zombie book I'veFirst published at Lit Addicted Brit
I'm beginning to think that my status as a bona fide wimp may be in jeopardy. This is the second zombie book I've read within a 12 month period and I've really enjoyed them both. Both were good for completely different reasons but great all the same. Where This Is Not A Test was (mostly) edge-of-your-seat and run-away-from-the-zombies in style, Warm Bodies is much more thoughtful and looks at life from the perspective of the zombies.
Rather than plonking zombies in amongst fraught citizens and just hoping that readers go with it, Marion takes the time to build a world where readers can identify with the humans that are clinging to vestiges of the world that they knew while zombies populate the world they live in. It's a dark world with apparently little hope for the remaining humans but it wasn't really their story that I found drawn towards. R is one of the more...sensitive of his kind and can faintly remember that he had a life before the endless pursuit of human-food, if not the actual details. Enough to know that his first inital was 'R', that there is more to life than preying on people and that music can make almost everything better.
Despite Marion's zombies being the full-on brain-eating kind, R is unbelievably charming. When a zombie consumes a person's brain, they get to "live" that persons life for a few moments, experiencing flashes of their memories and seeing glimpses of the world through their eyes. When R encounters Julie and her friends while out hunting for fresh brains, he goes against everything he can remember and protects her. While she is stowed away in the aeroplane chassis he calls home, R gets to know Julie through less...conventional means.
The development of R and Julie's relationship is adorable. For a being that can't talk, R is surprisingly communicative. Using the snippets of language that are coming back to him, gestures and his collection of albums, R manages to convey to Julie that he isn't planning on devouring her and helps her start to get to know him. There are enough reviews of this book out there now that I'm sure I don't need to go into the connections between Shakespeare's play and R and Julie. They aren't always the most subtle but it never bothered me at all. To be honest, there are plenty of quirks on the story that we all know so well and so much that makes this book unique that Marion could have followed whatever famous story he wanted and I wouldn't have batted an eye.
Although the novel is apparently a young adult one, the writing is intelligent and wonderful and the vision of a zombie-filled world extremely well thought out and astutely developed. There are a lot of dystopian books around but few that really give you that heart-stopping moment of realisation about how fragile everything is. Ellie articulated it much better than I'm sure I will (and pointed the way to the *superb* quote popping up in a little while...) but I loved how pensive such an ostensibly simple story could make me feel. I'm a lawyer and my job is to explain the 'rules' that most of us in England live by to people and to whip those that don't subscribe to or comply with those rules into shape. It isn't very often that I'm compelled to think about how flimsy and brittle that all is...
"It didn't take much to bring down the card house of civilisation. Just a few gusts and it was done, the balance tipped, the spell broken. Good citizens realised the lines that had shaped their lives were imaginary and easily crossed. They had wants and needs and the power to satisfy them, so they did. The moment the lights went out, everyone stopped pretending"
The latter half of the book has more action and a little less musing on the nature of society and is heart-stopping for a different reason. It's a relatively short book to begin with but it's brilliance makes it fly by. I could have spent twice as long with R and will have to console myself with the film during the long wait for the next instalment.
Overall: There is a lot of dystopian fiction around at the moment but this one really does stand out as one of the more considered and intelligent offerings. If occasionally a little heavy-handed in following the path of the original star-crossed lovers, the story of R and Julie has something to offer even the more weary readers of post-apocalyptic tales....more
I bought A Game of Thrones at about the same time as the series was coming out, I think. I'd been aware of it befoFirst published at Lit Addicted Brit
I bought A Game of Thrones at about the same time as the series was coming out, I think. I'd been aware of it before but an impending dramatisation made me keen to get to it before the whole world knew the ending and I would be dodging spoilers all over the internet. My plan was to read each book before the corresponding series was released and to generally stay ahead of the A Song of Ice and Fire curve. Since the third series either has recently been on or still is on (I try to ignore all references to it!) and I've only just got round to writing about the first book, that plan obviously fell apart...
I love epic fantasy and have a lot of patience with first books. I almost expect to feel a few steps behind when I start out on a long series and am happy to spend a couple of hundred pages meandering through back stories, explanations of politics and hierarchies and world building. I say that so that you know when I say that A Game of Thrones' start was slow, it isn't because I'm not used to the genre. Because there are so many characters, introducing them all takes about half of the first book. And I will personally make a gold star for anybody who can honestly say that they didn't have at least one moment later on in the novel where they went, "Who is this person again?!" (I should add that you don't get a gold star if you watched the TV series first because that's cheating).
I'm actually quite surprised that the books have been as widely popular as they have been. Epic fantasy is always one of those genres that I feel gets a bad reputation for being "geeky" or whatever. And yet, with a dash of Sean Bean, A Song of Ice and Fire became almost mainstream and I saw people reading it about the train station all the time. I guess that having seen the key characters and themes played out on screen must be a bonus to readers that would normally get frustrated experiencing the same thing on the page.
There are a lot of reviews for this book that describe how much of a page-turner it is right from the start. I'm sorry (really, because I know how much of a ruckus this might cause) but I just didn't see it. Eventually I was completely hooked and swept through the pages but for the first half, reading A Game of Thrones was by no means a relaxing or absorbing reading experience. There were characters I instantly loved (Lord Stark, Catelyn Stark and Arya Stark) and characters I HATED but mostly there were characters I grew to love (Jon Snow and maybe Daenerys but I haven't quite decided yet) and characters I still don't know what I think about and it took me forever to even draw those meagre conclusions. There was political scheming, murder, incest, conspiracies, epic battles and family trauma. It isn't perfect and it isn't an easy read but the later chapters do reward your efforts and there were moments that broke little pieces of my heart.
One thing that "everybody" says about this series is true, though. Martin cares not for your feelings. Expect to have at least one character you love killed off and to feel as though the world is a dark, dark place for quite some time. It's very powerful writing and I did spend the final half of the novel willing my favourite characters to survive and beat their rivals and gripping my eReader ridiculously tightly. I read it on the 9.30pm train from London to Leeds after a conference about procurement and didn't fall asleep once. It might take time but trust me when I say that, eventually, George R.R. Martin will get you.
Overall: I will definitely be carrying on with A Song of Ice and Fire and have no doubt that it will become a series that I love. This book is the literary equivalent of prepping early for a dinner party; it takes quite a long time and isn't always super fun but you know that when your guests arrive and you can chatter over a glass of wine instead of clamouring to catch up and fit in yet more prep, you'll appreciate it. Think of A Game of Thrones as an investment and you'll be just fine....more
I kind of hate it when I come across a synopsis that so perfectly describes a book because I then try in vain forFirst published at Lit Addicted Brit
I kind of hate it when I come across a synopsis that so perfectly describes a book because I then try in vain for ages trying to come up with something better. Or even as good. Wise, compassionate, haunting, wildly entertaining and disturbing. The Penelopiad really is all of those things at the same time and it's a heady mix.
I originally 'picked up' (i.e. loaded up on my eReader) The Penelopiad because it combined two of my favourite bookish things of 2013 so far: Margaret Atwood and twists on Greek mythology. It turned out to be a riot of literary forms, styles and techniques and has firmly cemented Margaret Atwood onto my list of favourite authors.
Telling the story of Odysseus' wife, Penelope, this glorious novel moves from verse to prose, Ancient Greece to the modern day and from comedy to pathos without ever feeling scattered or disjointed. In some ways, it's more like a collection of short works of fiction on a common theme, tied together by a single voice. There were styles and sections that I preferred to others (as with any collection of short stories and the like) - generally speaking, I'm not a huge fan of poetry so, although I actually did find the verse/song sections more enjoyable than I expected, I still preferred the prose.
Penelope's perspective of Odysseus' questing and Helen of Troy's beauty is witty, self-deprecating and really very entertaining. After years spent in her cousin's shadow and playing second fiddle to her husband's love of a good war, she's wryly bitter:
"If you were a magician, messing around in the dark arts and risking your soul, would you want to conjur up a plain but smart wife who'd been good at weaving and had never transgressed, instead of a woman who'd driven hundreds of men mad with lust and had cause a great city to go up in flames?
Neither would I" [Page 21 of 119 of my eBook edition]
Still suffering from unfavourable comparisons in the underworld, Penelope is sarcastic, biting and funny. I really loved her and was dying to drag her off the pages, listen to her rant about her wayward husband and the nastiness of men in general and then give her a big hug. I know that it's supposed to be the 'lowest form of wit' and all but I will always love characters who are liberal with the sarcasm. The sarkier the better, to be honest.
There's really not much more to say really. A feminist view on a classic myth with a hefty dose of snark. I've read some reviews that dismiss the book as too much of a mish-mash of styles or as somehow unfaithful to the myth on which it is based. I couldn't disagree more; The Penelopiad is almost a companion to the original, breathing life into those that were left behind while their husbands were off battling for a golden fleece or trying to outsmart a cyclops or two. Cracking stuff.
Overall: I know it's a cliché but here it's true - there really is something for everyone. It's a quick read (the eBook is 119 pages) but has plenty to keep you interested with a plethora of clever turns of phrase and creative spins on a familiar story that make it prime for re-reading. Highly, highly recommended and part of a set of twists on myths (Canongate myths) that I can't wait to explore more....more
I liked the first instalment in this series, Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, quite a lot. If I had any criticisms of that book, they were thatI liked the first instalment in this series, Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief, quite a lot. If I had any criticisms of that book, they were that Percy's voice as he narrated the story seemed a bit younger than he was supposed to be and that the character development could probably have been a bit stronger. I loved the story and the twists on Greek mythology but felt a bit...disconnected from such young characters. With The Sea of Monsters, Riordan has strengthened his characters and allowed Percy to grow up a bit without moving too far away from what made The Lightning Thief great. The same nods to mythology but a book I found much easier to enjoy.
Part of the shift up is probably owed no more than to the fact that this is the second in a five-part series. Readers have a bit of background with Percy and Camp Half-Blood and its residents so there weren't any over-engineered social situations to introduce the students to one another. On the flip side, it's clear that Riordan's in no rush to stride through an over-arching story; there is some development of the series but there's also plenty of time for fighting Cyclops, evading harpies and navigating the perils of the Sea of Monsters.
Riordan's relaxed writing style complements the fun side of his books perfectly. The sentences and chapters are short and snappy and the dialogue has what seems to me (knowing no teenagers at all as I do) a quite authentic, cheeky teenage feel. When the story gets going (which doesn't take long) that 'just one more chapter' quality that we always hear so much about kicks in. They're only short books so they're ideal for racing through in big chunks on weekend mornings.
For the most part, I loved the development of the characters' relationships in The Sea of Monsters. Because of the age group that it feels as though the story is aimed at, the focus is on friendships rather than romance and it's a surprisingly pleasant change. There are some hints at a budding romance but in a fairly innocent, child-like way, emerging from a strong friendship. I know, love born out of friendship, what a ridiculous idea...The main new introduction to the series (I assume) here is Tyson, a slightly slow, hulk of a teenager who would do anything to protect those he cares about. I don't want to stray into spoiler territory but the way that Percy handles his relationship with Tyson is weak and selfish. I get that what younger readers might be getting is a lesson in loyalty and such like but the way Percy behaves towards Tyson at times made my heart hurt for him. Then again, the fact that I cared enough to mention it is probably actually a good thing? *sigh* Oh, Tyson...
Read The Lightning Thief and not yet ventured on to The Sea of Monsters? You don't need to worry - it's easily as good and I'm looking forward to picking up The Titan's Curse and getting wrapped up in another quest before too long.
Overall: The best thing about this book is that it doesn't take itself too seriously or have any dillusions of grandeur. The Sea of Monsters is good, honest fun and part of a series that I would love to be able to share with younger children just getting into reading; one of few series that I would confidently recommend for both genders and parents and children alike.
And so continues my run of gushing reviews. Actually, reading so many fabulous books in a row is making my review writing life so much harder! I alwayAnd so continues my run of gushing reviews. Actually, reading so many fabulous books in a row is making my review writing life so much harder! I always find books I loved the hardest to review, although I don't know what it says about me that I find it easier to rant acerbically than gush lovingly.
The Song of Achilles is told by Patroclus, a young man that finds himself shunned by his father and exiled to live with King Peleus in Phthia. Through the first few chapters, I was immensely frustrated by Patroclus. He's rather wimpy, quite self-pitying and could generally do with a good shake. Achilles, demi-god that he is, positively glows in comparison. As their relationship develops, though, it's this balance that makes them so beautiful to read about; Achilles is the greatest warrior of his generation while Patroclus can barely wield a spear but Patroclus is sensitive where Achilles is almost ignorant. Fiction could do with more couples like them - they don't always agree and aren't blinded by the other's sheer brilliance, they bicker and argue and yet it's clear that they always love each other. Really, the characterisation is impeccable and Achilles and Patroclus may well be my favourite literary couple ever.
I also loved the angle from which I got to read about the mythology surrounding the Trojan War. I knew roughly why it started ("the face that launched a thousand ships" and all that...) and I'd been beaten over the head with the story of the Trojan horse at school but I'd never thought that the myth would stretch to the actual fighting of the war that spanned years and with which the Gods persisted in interfering. The fraying tempers of Achilles and Patroclus after days of fighting on the sand and the bitter rivalries between the various Greek kings there to make their name made the story of a war very gripping and very moving indeed.
For a story with a hefty cast of characters, there are still many that stand out (other than Patroclus and Achilles, obviously). There are gods, demi-gods and mortal kings, warriors and sons, many with names that are not too dissimilar. After a few chapters, though, the characters are chiselled out enough that they're easy to keep straight. A special mention should also go to Odysseus. His wit and intelligence make him as light a relief as you're likely to find on a battlefield and I would be one of the first in the queue to buy a book that followed this particular representation of Odysseus through the end of the Trojan War and his voyage home.
In the interests of balance, I've sat and tried to come up with some downsides. I suppose that there are a couple of sex scenes that might offend particularly sensitive readers. Sorry but that's the best (worst?) I can come up with.
I read the last few chapters through the blur of tears. Actually, that makes it sound as though I welled up in a dignified and elegant manner. I didn't. I was pretty much sobbing my way through the final pages, eyes and nose streaming while I tried my best to breathe without snorting too badly. Unattractive stuff but a sure fire sign that The Song of Achilles had burrowed its way under my skin and wasn't going to move on without a fight. I had an idea of what was coming and still Madeline Miller managed to break my heart.
Overall: If you want your heart trodden upon by human and god alike, this is the book for you. If you own a copy of this and haven't read it yet, go and rescue it from your shelves and start it this weekend. Truly, epicly wonderful.