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73
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| 0385545428
| 9780385545426
| 0385545428
| 3.79
| 8,948
| Aug 27, 2019
| Nov 12, 2019
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None
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Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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not set
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May 20, 2024
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Hardcover
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72
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| 1439152799
| 9781439152799
| 1439152799
| 3.89
| 80,289
| Nov 09, 2010
| Mar 2021
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None
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Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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not set
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Feb 04, 2024
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Paperback
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71
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| 0765319950
| 9780765319951
| 0765319950
| 3.90
| 19,512
| 2004
| Feb 01, 2007
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liked it
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**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, tou
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters that contain reflections on childhood illness, substance use, abortion, pregnancy, sexual assault, & others. A story that transpires throughout the spring leaves readers with the soothing greenery of new beginnings. Barry’s introduction feels similar; the dawn of a new adventure, pastures of green grass, the eagerness of a professional endeavour; all the hopes & dreams of the main character present themselves earnestly to the reader. Those who choose to read this book might have done so for similar reasons to myself. A couple of years ago, before my grandma’s passing, I found myself needing to read what she did. It was no secret to me that our time together was coming to a close. I knew that she & my grandpa had read this series & in 2020, I felt that the moment for my commencement was imminent. When I first read this book, I was hopeful. I found myself in Ireland with my family, roaming the homestead & eager to see what Barry chose to do with his career. The characters in this book spoke to me like friends. I admit that I found the essence of the story cheesy. Readers who go into this book will need to know what adventure they are embarking on; one that is not without faults but that does its best to cushion the stumbles of the characters with a warm & cozy ending. Surely, this approach will not work for all readers & upon my second read of this book, it no longer worked for me. Admittedly, I feel that I was generous with my feelings towards this story because a person I loved was going to be lost to me in this life. The plot, tender & forlorn as it was, reminded me of my family in ways that I could not communicate at the time. As I progressed in the series, I found myself repeatedly annoyed with the way that Taylor approached telling the story. However, Taylor is not a storyteller, this is not who he is. He sought to share a tale, one that I am sure he feels passionate about but, the skill of transferring stories from inside the soul & mind so they might travel the ear canal to the brain is a specific talent, one not all writers have. In its essence, this book is about Barry, a twenty-four-year-old medical doctor who spends time with Dr. O’Reilly as his Medical Assistant in a small village in Northern Ireland. The story takes place in the 1960’s, the effects of WWII loom heavily over the villagers & their economic status reflects the shift from sustainable living to the modern age wherein dimes & euros shape the livelihoods of bipartisans. The story explores the reality of Ballybucklebo, the medical field in Ireland, & the quirky events that take place throughout a nearly 400-page book. I was drawn to read this book a second time because I wanted to complete the series. Taylor’s books have been present on the shelves of the readers I have admired most throughout my life though; they will not lie & declare this book to be a marvel of the literary world. Rather, this book & others that follow, are simply books to read when one wishes to enjoy the act of reading & a somewhat escapist moment in their day in the tiny quarters of Ireland. This is not a fantastic book nor is it particularly revolutionary. This book is corny, & cheesy, & somewhat poorly formatted, with characters that I grew to dislike. However, it is also comforting, & calming, & warm. A reader is not meant to like every character in every book they read. Books are mediums to transport art; they hold stories & stories live forever, regardless of the recipient’s enjoyment. Barry is a prime example of this. Within the first moments of his introduction, he reads as a very cautious if not entirely insecure individual. One cannot necessarily fault him for this, he is embarking on an entirely new venture in a place that is strange to him. Readers are likely to grant Barry the benefit of the doubt, multiple times throughout this story. Whereas one would hope to find the main character carry some level of self-awareness, this hope is dashed when Barry meets Patricia. Barry’s instant infatuation with Patricia is cute in the same way a flower in the hair is cute or a chocolate kiss surprise in an Easter basket. Barry meets Patricia on the train & is instantly in love with her. No time passes before readers read about the complicated love affair that sprung out of thin air & the turmoil that Barry feels by proxy of pursuing a girl who has ambitions. Certainly, I am no prude nor am I a despiser of love. However, the main character falls hopelessly for a girl he does not know. I might forgive his boyish eagerness at their chance meeting & I am certainly likely to forgive his unfounded adoration for her in part thanks to her beauty. These things are not enough for me to believe that their love is genuine nor is it enough for me to be invested in their charade. This book’s main issue is its pacing. Whereas readers might rejoice from seeing Barry meet someone who could bring joy & tenderness to his life, the author does not pace out their encounter so that it feels authentic. Their few dates do not reflect any genuine understanding of one another & the conversations they share act merely as reinforcement of their vast differences. Barry is in love with Patricia because she is beautiful—that’s it. He goes out of his way to bid her to skip her course after she expresses having to put in extra effort to succeed in a male-dominated program. He also never actually listens to what she has to say, leaving the reader in a bizarre tango alone. Certainly, had Taylor approached these sequences as a representation of a budding young eagerness to be present in the adult world, they would have felt justified. Barry inserts himself into situations where he does not belong & in which he has no leg to stand & all the other characters allow him to do so; Why is that? After he threw a fit because Patricia was honest with him about her intentions & her goals in life, Barry sulks around the village. I cannot begin to express my shock that he felt the familiarity & freedom to compare his experience with Patricia—his love for this girl he doesn’t know past a superficial level--& Kinky’s beloved husband lost at sea. The story encourages this poor pacing by including an array of characters, some of whom the reader will enjoy, & others who will mean little to the story because they so closely resemble one another. In some sense, this was to the benefit of the story. I enjoyed knowing that the village was comprised of an array of people, & I appreciated Taylor’s medical knowledge to cushion their unique personas. When it comes to adding depth to the story, I was glad for those whom Taylor deemed appropriate to include, & I didn’t much care to wonder who else we would come to meet. That is to say, Taylor’s inclusion of specific characters to encourage the story forward was well done. His ability to incorporate factually relevant details via the exploration of a character’s reality was interesting & pertinent. I did not wonder why we did not meet everyone in the village, nor did I worry about tying in the narrative to every single character. I had faith that the author would do that in due time. Reading this book on both occasions saw me fly through the material. It is not difficult to become immersed in the narrative. I sought to find what I had on the first occasion of our meeting & though I was met with my memories, the calming nature of the story was not the same. I do not wish to place blame; the story is good, it is fine the way that it is & for some readers, it will be a wonderful reading experience. Rather, I found that the joy to behold in the quaintly corny nature of the plot left me behind. Highly analytical readers will feel less inclined to adore this story & will perhaps be less likely to overtly love the plot itself. The medical leniency that it took to alter the fates of those around them & the nasty temper of Dr. O’Reilly will strike many as rude & callous. I cannot rightly put my finger on why I didn’t dislike him. Perhaps I felt rather softened towards O’Reilly because Barry was so much a disaster of a person who revelled in their ignorance, whereas O’Reilly lived in the real world. Of course, this is not a book that will present a tried & true Odyssey to readers. As I have said, this is a book that was written to be consumed for a simple & straightforward enjoyment. For this reason, I feel confident in stating that this was a good book. I felt annoyed at Barry more than I think was healthy & was reminded of why I stopped reading the series four (4) years ago. However, I am willing to give the story another chance. I want to see O’Reilly & Kinky find their love & happiness & I am eager to be within the village again when a twist of fate brings them together. Ultimately, this is not the best book I have ever read nor is it the most enjoyable. The pacing throws off the story to the point at which the reader feels like they are reading while on a roller coaster that stalls & starts. At times, the characters feel like caricatures while also representing the authentically flawed nature of sheltered people & those among us who have lived a thousand years within a select few. The treasure of this story is that it is good-natured & readers may find reasons to dote on it for this alone, & perhaps others because O’Reilly & Kinky warm the heart like a fire on the hearth. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Jan 04, 2024
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Jan 04, 2024
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Paperback
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70
| 
| 177041732X
| 9781770417328
| 177041732X
| 3.95
| 666
| Apr 09, 2024
| Apr 09, 2024
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it was ok
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, tou
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters that contain reflections on the death of an animal, domestic abuse, the death of a loved one, death as a consequence of physical abuse, the abuse of a child, sexual assault, pregnancy, adultery, miscarriage, & others. The forlorn madness of the shadow of equity has long loomed over women. Societies have cultivated a sentiment of superiority for the vanquishers; the broad shoulders; the tenor; the dweller; the man made a King. Barbarism has seeped into our communal area, slithering like an eel over the bare toes of the river wanderer; Where is a woman’s place? Throughout the years, many pieces of literature have broken the planches that offer themselves as steady roads into endless bodies of water. From within yellow wallpaper; the moors; the attic; the underbelly of the serpent is cool to the touch; she is us. After so many centuries of stories highlighting the plight of the female experience, readers may grow weary of the story that presents a villain in the shape of the lamb; a victim in the wolf’s body. This particular story was familiar to me as I have read it before. Veteran readers will find much to remind them of tales long since read deep into the night. Lovers of dreadful stories, ones that bring forth the gothic dread of the otherworldly sorcerer’s secret will also be met with an old friend; or an acquaintance that reminds them of the dreary night whence the soundtrack to madness chimed. It is not a negative thing to write a story that has been told before. The benefit of the exploration of the familiar is that the core messages in these tales are formatted for a reader who will see them better in a new light or, perhaps, who will meet them for the first time via this story. In the case of Ada Byrd & her melodramatic ravings, I am hopeful of the latter. As a main character, Ada is nothing special there is rather little to her person. Ada’s main characteristics are that she is frumpy; dumpy; ugly; loves plants; is a teacher; & is a lover of women. Alongside this list, one notes that Ada is an abuser of women & children; she has a violent temper; she is cruel-spirited; & is overall rather stupid. Perhaps that last one was not inserted in good faith but, I have a rather difficult time forgiving a malicious individual for their self-proclaimed intellect when their actions accuse them of the opposite. A cruel person cannot be well-read, well-informed, or highly intelligent. Smart people do not go around setting fire to the world. Instead of encouraging trees to grow & animals to experience their cycle of life, Ada endeavours to be callous & unkind to the utmost innocent life forms on the planet; Why is that? It is the marker of a small, stupid, & egotistically inept individual to be malevolent to those for whom life is a petal to the rose. In my introduction, I presented the account of female representation in literature. In this book, the author similarly presents Ada, as though she would be able to stand toe-to-toe with the titans of her time. Perhaps, I am wrong. It is possible that the author sought to write about a morally corrupt person for the sake of having her live on the page & it is the reader’s fault for believing her to be an advocate of women at writ large. As with all my reviews, I remain an advocate for the truth, & the facts, & I highlight that which is my opinion. Though this story is presented to the reader as though it will follow the format one is familiar with, it is entirely its own. Readers will find themselves in Ada’s journal entries in something of a new play on “The Tenant of Wildfell Hall” (1848) by Anne Brontë, “Wuthering Heights” (1847) by Emily Brontë, & “Jane Eyre” (1847) by Charlotte Brontë. I am not a great fan of stories that present themselves to the reader via journal entries. For one, this requires the forgiveness of the reader. The entries include quotations & detailed retellings of events that took place off-page; the character would need an insane amount of time on their hands to essentially write an entire novel as well as formidable memory recall to quote those with whom they have had interactions. If one can forgive this approach, as it rings the tune of a story within a story; one will be able to appreciate the details as though they were taking place inside the mind of the character as they entered their explorations of the day to the page. Ada’s character is not written to be likeable. There are few cases in literature where an author presents a reader with a person they will surely despise. To read this story requires the apathetic reader or, perhaps, the reader who awaits vindication. Ada is introduced to the reader via her interpretation of events. At once a teacher who pursues the profession because there is nothing else available to her, Ada is entirely wrong for the job. At times, her behaviour might lead one to believe that the story at hand was taking place far further in the past than it was. The events of this tale are rooted in the years 1900, 1901, & 1902. One does not need to have a detailed understanding of the culture of the early years of the century. The author does not write her story as though Ada was a well-raised lady of class. The language is dry & simple, almost as though to reinforce the fact that Ada is dry & simple. I would have wanted more from this story in terms of the vocabulary the author chose to employ. Ada’s character did not need prose to accompany her but the flow of the story did nothing to draw readers to her person. She is never someone the reader can trust nor is she particularly good at telling a story. She withholds information & recounts events as though they were Shakespeare-inspired scenes; whereas in reality, Ada is a lonesome woman with nothing going for her but the troubles she causes. I will make myself clear; there is a scene that depicts Ada’s rape at the hands of the man whose house she was residing in during her previous teaching contract. My previous comment in no way speaks to this situation. Ada is not at fault for the actions this man took; she is not to blame for the assaults she suffered. What I am saying in the previous paragraph is that Ada goes through life engaged in angry & vile behaviour as though she deserves a free pass because her father was abusive. Certainly, what might encourage the reader to reflect on the moral turmoil that Ada experiences is her long history of abuse. Ada loses her temper with the children in school, she beats a child, she treats children like they are the scum of the earth; she does not listen to the concerns of these children’s parents because she believes she knows what is best. One may wish to believe that the religious lifestyle chosen by the townspeople is ridiculous however, it is not our place to judge. Ultimately, the people in this town have had the opportunity to live whatever form of lifestyle they choose. They live in a small town in the country, they go to church, they pray to a God, & they send their children to school to learn the basics (i.e. reading, writing, & arithmetic). It is odd for Ada to wish to cause harm to children whom she deems poorly educated. Why would she not take it upon herself to encourage them to be better? Arguably, Ada does think that she is helping by bringing the children around the woods to look for dead animals; the river; berries; etc. However, these are country children. Therefore, it would stand to reason that they would learn about these facts of life regardless of Ada’s hundred-acre wood wanderings; these ultimately feel like a waste of time & do not accurately tie into the reality of the story’s setting. Though Ada’s appreciation for the natural sciences might seem odd for a woman at the time, she does act peculiarly. During her youth, Ada & her sister brought home animal bones, they drew pictures of dead animals; they collected fallen leaves, accords, & other such random things. Yes, it is good to be aware of your surroundings & no, it was not acceptable for Ada’s parents to physically beat her & her sister in response to their interests. However, Ada was a weird person from the jump. What makes her character all the more peculiar is that she appears to enjoy being odd. Her hobbies do not ring true to an earnest appreciation. Rather, throughout the book, Ada seems to do things for the sake of wreaking havoc. I am not ashamed to say that I do not remember any of the character’s names days after reading this book; such is the nature of a shallow story. I do not say this to be mean. However, there is no depth to this story. By the end, Ada is roaming around the country as though eager to meet someone who will tell her she is unwell so that she can openly assault them. Why is that? The story itself does not set up the pretense that Ada is a woman scorned. Ada is a person who has experienced abuse, yes. However, Ada is also a person who abuses others; she is sexually abusive towards her alleged “friends”; she beats children; she disregards the sentiments of people who care about her safety, etc. It is hard to care what happens to Ada one way or another. With that being said, the final portion of this book is reminiscent of “The Witch” (2015). Ada is courted by an unknown entity who is neither scary nor monstrous as it is given no form; no one can describe it except to say that it has appeared as a big dog—a Clifford, of sorts, if you will. Ada’s journals go round & round the premise as though coveting prey though Ada’s inability to speak with clarity was consistent throughout the entire book, therefore rendering the conclusion rather tired. Why would the reader care that a paranormal entity is pursuing Ada? What good could Ada bring to anything? Is the reader meant to feel fear? Is the reader meant to care that Ada will vanish into the woods? What makes Ada an attractive person to claim—she has no attributes to speak of. There is little detail given to the reader about the logistics of women being coveted by a demonic force. Those who have watched satires of horror films or who have delved into the realm of paranormal romances will have had their fill of the invisible looming darkness of Peter Pan’s shadow. There is nothing in these last parts of the story to make a person feel any level of intrigue. Ada murders her friend because she cares about her—how very predictable. What I am saying is that the pacing of the novel was unsettled; & chaotic in that it was not well-paced. Had the beginning of the story seen Ada act as any normal well-adjusted person with a secret, the tension build-up would have been superb. Scenes depicting the carved & hollowed-out eyes of children can be overlooked. A demon took a child into the woods & the child carved his eyes out because he couldn’t live with the sight he beheld; What does that mean? There are ample examples in this book that are well-placed for literature at the time of this story but which have no impact in the modern world. What is a thing that is too horrible to see? One need only turn on the television to be flooded with news stories of children dying in war. In comparison, a demon who adopts the shape of a dog is not so horrible as to curse your eyes out of your head. Therefore, I ask again: What is the terrible thing in the woods? Ultimately, I wanted more from this story than it had to give. The writing style was juvenile, simplistic, & dry. The characters were one-dimensional & offered no room for the reader’s emotional investment. With that being said, readers of Horror who find themselves with similar books on their shelves & movies in their repertoire, as me, are not the target audience for this book. As a debut, it attempts great things for those who have not drowned in the river of scares. Straub, Bradbury, Malfi, Jackson, Hogarth, & Reid are among a league of Goliath writers whose stories creep into the blood like leukocytes to the site of the unknown. It is difficult to write scary stories, I shall never deny that. What is terrifying lies deep within & it is the successful touch of the writer who sees through the dark to find the reader within. Thank you to NetGalley, ECW Press, & Elliott Gish for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review! ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
|
not set
|
Nov 14, 2023
|
Nov 14, 2023
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||
69
| 
| unknown
| 3.94
| 149
| unknown
| 1951
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** I am inclined to begin from a middle point. Stories that explore the beginning as though the romanticism of the start were the bloom
**spoiler alert** I am inclined to begin from a middle point. Stories that explore the beginning as though the romanticism of the start were the bloom of the first petal, sometimes feel disingenuous. I do not believe that we remember well that very first moment. This being said, I am not entirely correct in feeling this way. So many times throughout life we need to remember the first time; first kisses, a first touch, the start of feeling freedom & cool breezes; the beginning is where the story is born. When Joe meets the reader he is on the cusp of a new start though, his story has long since begun. When I listened to LeVar Burton emphasize the life of the displaced boy, Joe, I melted into the scenery. There is no way for the reader to intervene. The prize to be won in completing a journey through a story is the collection of awareness. Joe’s situation is not a one-off. He remains a member of the slew of people, children, who are displaced by conflict month after month, as the years crawl by. This might leave the reader inclined to wonder why Joe’s story matters at all. What could a child have to tell that an adult has not already heard? Vonnegut wrote about a young Black boy living in the German countryside. I should hope that it is not inconceivable for the reader to imagine how Joe might feel as the only Black person in the village; as the only child who has no knowledge of where or who he came from. As the trolley of children wanders the small streets daily for fresh air Joe is often picked out of the group, teased & taunted, it becomes difficult for him to hold out hope that when the war is over, he will have somewhere to go. On a walking journey like every other, Joe comes across a man who looks like he could be his own father. The reader will forgive the childlike joy at meeting an adult who looks like them, or whom the child believes could be their parents because the pull for connection overcompensates the tragic logic flaws in his eagerness. The man Joe sees is an American soldier. As it turns out, this soldier is part of a troop of many other Black soldiers, set out through the German countryside during Joe’s fateful walk. This is not a story that shines brightly with exceedingly poignant literary prose or that brings to life the calibre of Vonnegut’s talent. Rather, readers make their way through very simple scenery—buses, trees, grimy stone paths, trenches, & decaying buildings—all to be met once more with the displaced person standing stone still in the middle of it all. Joe’s story is that of any child who might have felt disordered by life; disorganized by the stringent ardour of an adult world. Joe is just a child. As Joe saddles up to run away with the soldiers he meets, certain that the first man he saw was indeed his very own father, one learns of the power of simplicity. The back & forth dialogue between the Americans & the German child evokes the feeling of frustration. One has a longing to see some form of movie magic brought into the scene; someone must understand more than they are letting on; someone needs to intervene so that it is made clear. Unfortunately, with a chocolate supply nestled from guilt, sadness, & wordless despair, Joe is sent back to the orphanage where the nuns & other children wait to hear of his new treasury of sweets. After all that is said & done, the reader remains in the mud trenches with the soldiers. The adult reader may find it difficult to overcome the despair that reeks through the sweat & mud on the military uniforms of the men who watch an orphan child be, once more, left alone. I will not lie & say that this story evoked in me emotions of overwhelming sadness or left me feeling as though I might never escape the confines of the written word. Rather, what it left me thinking about was the importance of words. Joe is able to communicate his need for a family to a complete stranger, one who speaks a different language than he. Words of hope from the stories he heard drew Joe closer to the figure of a father that he crafted in his own mind. The words of the author peeled back the layers of terror inflicted by war to allow the reader the chance to watch a young child hope, beyond hope, that love might come his way. My experience reading this story was made greater by LeVar Burton who, since the start, has encouraged a love of words in me. His narration of this story brought forward the delicacy found in the most intimate of connections. I am grateful for the efforts he & his team put forward in bringing this story to life. The sounds of gravel under rolling tires, laughter in the background, slicing candy wrappers, the audible shrug & sigh of the shoulders; the eagerness for proximity & warmth. All this was translated through narration by a person who, one can tell, loves the story in their hands with the care of a tender, steady, worldly reader. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit LeVar Burton Reads ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
May 24, 2023
|
Jul 05, 2023
|
Audiobook
| |||||||||||||||
68
| 
| 0449213943
| 9780449213940
| B00EJ3APSG
| 4.08
| 468,001
| 1928
| Jan 01, 1987
|
really liked it
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, tou
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on the consequences of war, extreme violence, the death of a loved one, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), & others. The marvellous philosophizing of the interconnectedness of humanity has often played second fiddle to the meandering of egotistical villains. The stories of crafty titans such as Bradbury’s 1952 novella “A Sound of Thunder” encourage eager minds to collapse at the thought of consequence. Yet, when faced with the Leviathan of all repercussions—the mass death of the species—not one leading mind hitches on the intentional demise they set forward when declaring their country at war. The oversimplification of this matter is done intentionally. In today’s day & age, our news sources are littered with bombings, shootings, painful burns, & cataclysmic catastrophes. Every waking moment brings us to the forefront of what we have never been able to shake—our lust for destruction. Should we ask ourselves if we are in fact the antagonist? If we shoot the gun is it not the weapon that is responsible for slicing arteries? Is not our agency as individuals stunted by the nation’s need for peace? Year after year, we commemorate the end of the war to end all wars. Year after year, we deliberate whether to welcome refugees fleeing from war. When I opted to read this book it was by random selection. The story is so highly acclaimed—the best war novel of all time—I felt inclined to believe that reading this book would pose no loss for me. Yet, as I flipped the yellowed pages of the old story I grew confused. What was Remarque trying to achieve? Was his intent to free himself from his own experiences? Did he believe that war was an inevitable part of human existence? Did his main character ever survive the things that happened to him? I haven’t read enough war novels to gauge the explicit nature of the claim that this one, over all the others, is the best. I am confident in my claim that this book contains a good story, one I would argue is reflective of the lived experiences of thousands of individuals, some of whom died in mud & searing pain, prevented from liberating their thorax from the croaking moans of war. Perhaps, for folks such as this, the story poses a petal on the flower’s stem; allowing the nameless voices of victim & perpetrator to rest. As for myself, I found my reading experience enthralling because the main character, Paul, is a man who weaves a good tale. In the opening lines of the book, Paul via the author, rests easy in the knowledge that the reader will continue down the road with him. Simple prose decorates the pages of this narrative in a way that shapes the reality of brutal circumstances without leaving the reader on the side of the road to perish alongside the soldiers. Though we often take for granted the fact that a book is a story of something other than our lives, it is rather touching when a strange situation eases the reader into its nucleus as though the threat were our own. By allowing readers to wander alongside Paul—a man who is brave, charming, uncontrollably dissociated, & pained—the author has granted the reader permission to forget that there exists a good vs. evil in war. When tinged with the reality that eviscerates our extra personal relations with the species at large for fear of the “other” overtaking the asserted tranquillity of our own communities, we often forget that to another we are “other” & perhaps, we pose just as much a threat as the nightmare that looms in our restful state. Paul’s guidance throughout this story allowed for a point of view that was removed. The issue that arises with this approach is that the threat of losing the main character is rather slim. This is not to say that there needs to be a danger for the reader to feel connected to the narrator. Rather, when the bombs were flying & Paul squeezed closer to the core of the earth while in hiding, I never felt that this was the end—there were far too many pages left. However, one may advocate for the ambiguous ending. Perhaps Paul lies dying as the story draws to a close or, perhaps the writing eases into omniscience whereupon another narrator takes heed. I did not feel as though Remarque would allow Paul to die. Again, this is not a bad thing. However, as I grew to rely on Paul to communicate with me in an indirect fashion, I feared the moment when the book would come to an end. When Paul returned home to visit his family, I felt we had reached the tenderness of the story. Unfortunately, as many are aware, this tenderness is not permitted time to bloom. One cannot take a pause from horrible circumstances to sigh & sleep deeply when the anxious threat of a return looms on the periphery. These scenes drew me to Paul. Though many of the older generations in his small German village had certainly experienced war before, no one seemed to take death seriously. I am not in a position to reflect on this stance with astute accuracy—I am not of a generation that has experienced war firsthand, nor have I studied this position at length. I brood over the logistics of confidently erasing the worries of young people as they go away to become burned alive by Mustard Gas & shot to pieces by weapons the likes of which had never been seen before. The intimacy of the return home, the journey on the train, & the knowledge of an end to the world that goes on without us; left me feeling overwhelmed. I felt ashamed to see so many people boisterous when speaking of the ambitions of war. No tears, no worries, only the depraved eagerness to kill. When someone they loved was killed on the front, the narrative shifts to heroic praise, & sadness in every remaining aspect of life. Why have we been allowed to carry on this in this way? When I think back to how this story made me feel while reading it, I’m not sure that I have the words. I wasn’t necessarily sad or shocked. The Great War is often categorized as a social reset in that it changed the way we fight; the ways in which we view the enemy & the tingling drip of damage to the psyche. All of this is rather tedious as I do not believe that there was ever a time in history when gastric violence was not preceded by traumatic injury to the brain. Arguably, very few people go about life unaltered by their environments. Here I return again to the blame I want to shift onto the shoulders of all who smiled & waived the youth away into the fields where they remain unhoused in the soil. There is room within this story to question the stance of the reader. Does the reader believe that war is worthwhile? Is there a means to an end when relying on violence? Is every death paired with sorrow? Within this story, Paul is often granted moments of what I will call reprieve. He is allowed to step outside of the redundancy of the situation wherein one party is set to die & the other to vanquish. To see one’s friends die is a horrible experience no matter which side you are on. Perhaps it is our downfall that we cannot collectivize our understanding of what it means to be good & just. We find ourselves habitually stuck in the complex role of alien invasions, cowboys & Indians, battlefields, poltergeists, & victors. Inside this book lies the truth that one man sought to communicate. The rotting flesh on the living man, the nibbling teeth of the trench rats, the dulled eyes, mucus & fluid, starvation & comradery, friendship & solitude. Maybe this is the best war novel ever written because it comes from an intimate place of nuance. Maybe there is room inside this story to reflect on what it means to meet oneself on the battlefield from which one will surely, never return. Ultimately, this is a good book & one that I am certain a war scholar would be better suited to dissect. Paul is a character who is easy to root for as he maintains a veteran boyish perception of the world. He cares for his family & he cares for his friends. He understands that death befalls us all & knows that we are unlucky when we play at spades with sharp edges. In the mundane recalling of cigarette smoking, bread mongering, & body decaying landscape of the foreign land where war-ravaged human life, there is Paul. The man who understood that between good & evil, there he stood. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Jun 24, 2023
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Jul 04, 2023
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Mass Market Paperback
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56
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| 0140439080
| 9780140439083
| 0140439080
| 4.14
| 451,674
| 1887
| Oct 01, 2001
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liked it
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**spoiler alert** I've struggled with how to review this book. Did I enjoy it or was it simply a rapidly progressing mystery with little opportunity f
**spoiler alert** I've struggled with how to review this book. Did I enjoy it or was it simply a rapidly progressing mystery with little opportunity for the depth of the mystery to set in? Was it creative or was it simply a play on a complicated religious belief that was not properly understood at the time? Was the mystery deep & brooding or was this a case of wasted life & an obvious set of clues? In my opinion, this was not the best book I have ever read nor was it the most memorable, nor did it leave me feeling as though I had finally accomplished the feat of reading a much-beloved classic; it was overall a disappointment. This is not to say that I did not appreciate the story, I did. However, at just over 180 pages this story flew by so quickly, that I felt as though I were reading a report. It's perhaps difficult to express my feelings without making it seem as though this book were an utter failure. The mystery itself was of interest to me & I did somewhat appreciate the depth of information that we were given regarding the criminal's backstory but, in the end, we weren't given very much. A lone man fell in love with a random pretty lady & then decided to go on a murder rampage because the heads of the community, to which he did not belong, took the pretty lady's fate into their own hands. This is, of course, a simplification of the matter. However, reading through the story it felt overtly simple. There was no point in the story in which I thought that the mystery was not going to be solved or that the scenario posed a complicated set of minuscule clues, that only a highly observant person might make note of. This is most likely due to my living in this century & therefore I do find most of Sherlock's wildly wonderful studies of the obvious a bit tedious. At this time in life, criminal shows, stories & realities have become so enthralled in the lives of most common people that simply remaking on tire tracks is the basis for the most obvious first remark. The height at which the letters were written on the wall, etc etc. Don't get me wrong, this was cool to read about but it wasn't great. The main characters did work well with each other & I did enjoy the victorian feel of the story. Watson, well, I adored him. ...more |
Notes are private!
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2
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not set
not set
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Jul 25, 2021
not set
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Jun 20, 2023
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Paperback
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67
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| 125080020X
| 9781250800206
| 125080020X
| 3.82
| 23,994
| Aug 16, 2018
| Aug 17, 2021
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liked it
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, tou
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on the consequences of war, extreme violence, body mutilation, racism, bigotry, grief, mental illness, & others. Much of the world is ravaged by our individual need for preservation. Skipping the line at the coffee shop, sneaking an unpaid avocado in your purchase, teasing out a rumour, gargling lies—we are no strangers to the minute ways in which our lives can be led by striving for our own needs. Many of the ways in which we seek to preserve ourselves are at the mercy of shadows. No one is going to combust if we skip the line at the coffee shop, no matter how much their red rage convinces them otherwise. But, what if we thought about how the time in which we decided to avenge our own need, saw the agency of another dashed? We drift devilishly close to Chaos Theory in these pondering moments but, what I am driving at is rather more simple. I wonder what might happen if, in each of our actions we thought of the consequence our decision posed on another person. Certainly, we might say that to do so would be to remain stationary for life. We are inevitably poised to cause harm to one another, if only as a consequence of living in such proximity to each other. Therefore, let us round out the question to a grander scale. Skipping the line at the coffee shop will not send someone into exile but, what if ignoring the barbaric practices of a dictatorial government does? Here we have a rather extreme, if poignant, scenario that is easy for people to remove themselves from. We can say as forcefully as we want that the past shall never occur again. Yet, it continues to do so. It is simple to state that people who hold power will do as they please & we have no power to change their choices. How can both things be true? How can we structurally believe that life is as it is—nearly existentially—while promising that terror will never rain through the human species again? Unfortunately, they cannot live in tandem. This book presents readers with a simple scenario & one which drives home the questions that I was asking at the beginning of this review. Why were specific groups of people put on the front lines to be massacred by opposing forces? The answer is simple if depleting—because according to some people, one life is worth more than another. For many of us, this is not a new phenomenon. Many people have to hide in the shadows or, if you will, in plain sight not to suffer a shower of bullets to the brain by people who are too mentally inept to be using automatic machinery of any kind. If life had been valued at all we wouldn’t have had wars, let alone be witness to the brazen murders that suffocate our species. Part of the wonder of this story is that nothing is necessarily as explicit as it is in real life. Alfa does not need to tell the reader that the French soldiers forced those that are Black to the front lines because Black people were seen as disposable. This is something that every reader can witness for themselves. He did not need to tell us the complexities of having a parent stolen from you from an unconfirmed disappearance & from grief because these are things that we can witness for ourselves. Though this story appears to wander in circles it represents the circular nature of our thoughts & our history. We speak so openly about the casualties & horrors of war. Then, we turn around & bomb cities where children sleep simply because we can. All the while, back home we are complex individuals who led lives before we became the haunting figure of nightmares we will never visit. Alfa is a nightmare to those whom he killed viciously under the guise of avenging a friend. Alfa knows that this is a lie just as much as we do. The reason why Alfa has chosen to remember enough of his life up until this point is a mystery. Why is he recalling the last night he had in his hometown? Why do we need to believe that sex makes a person grown? What part of love allows someone to suffer? Circling around the point is what Alfa does best. He allows the reader enough insight to encourage us to believe that he is lost within himself but, I do not think that is the case. Certainly, Alfa is traumatized. Whether or not he has the freedom of acknowledging this fact is another story entirely. The person with whom he was closest in the entire world was wounded in war, cruelly & horribly. Alfa was not able to set the person that he loved free. The reader can wonder for all the money in the world if they would have done differently but, here we find ourselves looking into our own reality once more. With that being said, the narrative that this story undertakes to translate Alfa’s inner thoughts veers on the messy & muddied words that do not allow the reader to follow Alfa’s train of thought. I suppose that was the point. Alfa lives through numerous horrific events by the time he is twenty (20) years old & he will never go home again. What is the reader meant to take from this story where the main character walks in circles trying to hide things from the reader? What feelings is this meant to illicit? Every reader might take something different out of the meandering of watercolours, sketches, boiling war trenches, severed hands, bloodied organs, wet pleasure, & dry eyes of the main character. Ultimately, this is a sad story. We know that Alfa does not survive the things that occur around him. Ever the more hopeful that life will change, he seems to grasp onto dreams that weren’t his, under the guise of having a plan. To take the hands of men during a war is to take away agency. It is to tell those around him that he does not care for freedom. This is a practice that is old & barbaric; once more we find ourselves with the past within our midst. We can hypothesize about the singular pull that led Alfa to sever another person’s hands & to replay the death of his best friend. We can study his methods & interpret his desire to alter the scenario as any compassionate individual might long to do. Maybe, this time around when he kills the blue-eyed villain, Alfa will set his friend free from the suffering that his body experienced when his soul was sawing his bones to fly free. When all is said & done, I found this novella interesting if not a little empty. We miss out on parts of the main stage because Alfa is consumed. This is not to say that I think that this decision is bad, certainly, it works in the case of this story. I suppose I feel that the book was missing something but then again, I am met with my own words—the emptiness is all around us with breadcrumbs leading us to the answers; the starting point of pain, sorrow, vapid concave heartbeats dulled by humanity’s penchant for destruction. Though this is not a book I might recommend to all readers, it is certainly a book that makes me wish I could set Alfa free from the confines of the pages where he will meet a reader once more at the start of his story & where, in the end, he will be just as he has been with me. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Apr 16, 2023
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Apr 16, 2023
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Paperback
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66
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| 0063020912
| 9780063020917
| 4.07
| 79,333
| Apr 04, 2023
| Apr 11, 2023
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it was ok
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, tou
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on the death of children, infidelity, intergenerational trauma, Postpartum Depression, psychological abuse, & others. When I learnt that Morton would be releasing a new book in 2023 I was ecstatic. Since the first fluke encounter with her books, one afternoon wandering a local bookstore, & over the years since, I have found myself drawn, repeatedly, to the stories that Morton crafts. There is something very special about how she views her characters' lives; their worlds evoke a nearly identical feeling to ours, with enough mysticism to keep the reader from dread. I appreciated that in many words, relying on the redundant & at times tedious nature of the obvious, Morton was able to whisk me away. It did not greatly matter to me whether or not I was able to clock the mystery or detail a reveal—the journey was worth more to me, in the end. However, this time around, I am faced with a confusing sentiment of disappointment. Rather than reading a story that was brimmed with intrigue & interpersonal relationships, I found myself reading a book within a book, & letters & articles that quaintly described everything that was obvious to me from the beginning. I am confused. Where did the odyssey go that I was habituated with embarking on? What happened to the glory of a lengthy delight? Clocking in at around 544 pages this book felt like a long tireless meander through dastardly pointy rocks coating a searingly hot sandy beach. Through a shroud of mystery, the reader is introduced to Jessica (Jess) as she contemplates life as a forty-year-old single person living by the scraps of her savings, trying to find her way in the world (London). We are introduced to the blurry world in which Jess lives rather quickly & it is never touched on again as the story unfolds. This is of note as the issues that Jess is attempting to deal with are ones that will shortly involve other people, namely a team of legal representatives that might repossess her home. Because Jess does not have a proper income & is unsure of where she fits in, we meet her at the perfect time. A week later & it might have been too late, a week earlier & she might never have travelled back to Australia at all. The reason I highlight Jess’ situation in London is that it doesn’t play any substantial role in building her character. I have appreciated the dual presence of England & Australia throughout many of Morton’s previous books but, in this case, when contrasted with Polly or Nora, Jess’ background story is found lacking. When Jess goes back to Australia it is to take care of her grandmother, Nora, after she took a tumble that left her hospitalized. The mature reader is left to wonder how Jess was able to venture off to another continent without so much as a second thought about the debt she was accumulating in the process. This leads me to my first qualm. Part of the charm that exists in Morton's books is her ability to make a reader long to set aside the logical world in which they live. The point of this story is for the reader to be met with family secrets & a murder mystery so haunting, nothing else should matter. Yet, I found myself utterly annoyed with Jess for the majority of her narrative & therefore could not help myself but gaze at the scenery while it passed me by. Perhaps I should grant Jess some reprieve. Upon arriving in Sydney, Australia, we learn about the complex relations that exist between Jess & her mother, Polly. Throughout the years, the relationship between the women has become so strained that Jess has fostered a cruel animosity towards a person she refuses to acknowledge experienced abuse at the hands of her parent. I acknowledge that abuse is not always easy to notice & it is often very difficult to broach in conversation. I cannot rightly expect Jess to know that her mother was abused by Nora as Jess herself was raised to view Polly as a lowly second-class citizen. This was very difficult to read. It is important for me to take a moment to emphasize that this book does deal with domestic abuse. For some readers, the relationship between Nora & Polly is simply a product of the time; an overly confident mother who grew up during a period in time when world wars ravaged the land & people did not “have the time” to “dwell”. I put these in quotation marks because I think that is a ridiculous excuse & minimizes the damage done to millions of people who experienced & continue to suffer the consequences of war. We would all be better off had Shell Shock been taken more seriously & not viewed as someone “having a bad war”. Regardless of my personal sentiments towards the field of psychological health, Nora raises Polly in derogatory ways. We read chapter after chapter of instances in which Nora disregards her daughter as being a silly sentimental girl, all the while, we know that Nora is the person that raised her to be that way. It is excruciatingly difficult to overcome trauma responses let alone grow to hold the bravery to leave abusive environments. I cannot imagine that Polly had the freedom to sit with her mother & explain to her that by degrading her, making every decision concerning Polly’s life about her own, infantilizing her, talking down to her & encouraging the world to view her as feeble, tormented, & inept, she was hurting her. That being said, I appreciate that this plot line was included because it was subtle. Polly was a sensitive person & she viewed the world through a fearful lens. I would not blame the reader for not understanding that this is not a case of someone simply being cautious but rather, this is a case wherein someone was never given the chance to view themselves as capable individuals. It made me sad to read this. I became angry every time we read about Nora acting as though Polly is a failure only to split her shins every time Polly attempted to be self-reliant. Nora reeks of abusive behaviour & I was not sad to know that we would not be exploring her point of view firsthand. I wish that we had been given more of Polly’s point of view. When she is finally given a voice, the narrative is so far along it feels as though the reader is meant to be tired of whatever recollections Polly has to present. The reason I hold this deduction is that the story stalls for the bulk of its rollout. Jess is given a couple of chapters throughout the bulk of the book to intermingle some of the present with the literature she is consuming at the moment. I did not appreciate or see the value in having the entire story presented to both Jess & the reader via such exposition. Again, Morton has a talent for intertwining narratives in ways that feel seamless. Whereas her stories take place in whatever year of the twenty-first century, there is always the inclusion of a time period that rivets the story with intrigue; something so far gone it's difficult to acknowledge that it happened at all. This story did not have the magic that lingers between realities. To have a book within a book exist simply to exposition the entire second timeline felt cheap & it was no pleasure to read. I found it difficult to maintain the belief that what Jess was reading was a book at all. Morton’s writing style did not adopt that of a Non-Fiction writer, let alone one that was recounting the lead-up to an unsolved Familicide. The book that recounted the entirety of the time period (1959) in which the murder took place was grossly underdeveloped. Had this been included as tidbits throughout the story itself I might not have minded. However, the Non-Fiction account was not able to breach the divide that it caused by maintaining the same tone of voice throughout Morton’s entire book. I believe that with some further editing, the tone could have been different—perhaps more serious. I could not forgive the author for simply taking liberties wherever he saw fit because he wanted the story to flow. In that case, we are no longer reading a work of Non-Fiction, the book is a fictionalized account of a real murder involving three (3) children & their mother. This is a bizarre approach. The tone of the Non-Fiction book aside, I grew weary of reading it. I missed the inclusion of the main character in modern times seeking to find answers by trial & error. Jess seemed to be granted everything at a moment’s notice & without ever trying to work through obstacles herself. Secondary characters flew in & out of the story whenever it was convenient to include them. This teased a plot that was well-developed but the reality was that Jess is a mature adult who was crude, selfish, impatient & rather tedious to listen to. How did someone who boasted of being a career journalist never know the right questions to ask? Why did we have to find everything in a single-sourced book? How come Jess never googled any other member of the town as she read—seeking to discern if any of them or their relatives were still around? There were so many lost opportunities to watch Jess become a strong independent individual who understood that the life lessons Nora impounded on her were in fact total horse dun & that the world was far more nuanced than an opportunity criminal would allow one to account for. I am not saying that Nora was wrong to seek to give Thea a good life after her family was murdered. What I am saying is that it was weird that she said nothing, ever. Instead choosing to abuse said child into believing that the only person she ever needed was Nora & that nothing she would ever do on her own would be as good as what Nora could give. I understand that Nora was traumatized by both the mass murder of her family & the death of her infant. I grant her liberties here knowing that postpartum psychosis is a deadly thing to experience. What I have no sympathy for are all of the times that Nora chose to be the bad guy. Why did she lose contact with her brother? I’m sure his grief was exponential. Did Nora not think it was a good idea to reach out to her sibling? Perhaps we are meant to view Nora as a common antagonist. No parent is perfect & we certainly all make mistakes. It feels rather rotten to read about a person that is so highly commemorated by all, meanwhile, she’s treating every child in her care like a piece of mouldy fruit. In the midst of all of this, there is the murder mystery. For readers who will not be bothered by the obvious nature of the main mystery—who took baby Thea—the story as a whole might not feel like so much of an overhaul as it did for me. As I said at the beginning, I do not necessarily mind that Morton’s books veer on the clear, I still enjoy the journey to the final reveal. In this case, I believe my enjoyment was tarnished due to the things I listed above. As well, I found the somewhat lazy approach to research tiresome. Why would the village “mother” not have thought of the fact that most parents end up sharing food with their children—who also end up sneaking their parent’s special treats? I appreciate that she was acting under duress, having just learnt that her husband was having a long-standing affair with Isabel but, her casual endeavour to murder someone didn’t read as slightly earnest. Rather, Meg quickly became an imbecile who was carried away by something her child thought he saw. Nora was not a character I enjoyed, Jess was someone I could have lived without, Polly was never given a proper chance, Percy was intriguing but was discarded for the exposition of the Non-Fiction, & so on. Ultimately, this was not my favourite book of Mortons. She remains an author I cherish & for whom I hold a deep appreciation. She is an author & a storyteller, through & through. We shall not appreciate every story, even by our most charming & deliberate of weavers. Had this story focused more on uncovering deep-rooted family trauma; had the story explored the realities of Postpartum Depression; had abuses been spoken aloud & reconciliation sought; had the redundancy not been so tiresome; had there been secrets kept solemnly, I would have loved this. At its core, this is a good story. A woman falls in love with a man who has a mind filled with more worlds than exist in all the universes for he fosters the love of stories in his heart. Their love tears families apart; their pain seeps into the blood of the tantalizing hands of the curious, the victims, the unknown. A family tree is only as strong as its heartwood, without which it might become the cackling of fire in a night sombre from named sadness & lore. Thank you to NetGalley, Simon & Schuster Canada, & Kate Morton for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review! ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Apr 09, 2023
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Apr 09, 2023
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ebook
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65
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| 164445064X
| 9781644450642
| 164445064X
| 4.06
| 30,698
| Sep 21, 2021
| Sep 21, 2021
|
really liked it
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, tou
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on graphic racism, bigotry, racist vernacular, violent crimes, grief, racial injustice, & others. To understand who we are we must look over our own shoulders. Over the course of time, the intention behind the documentation of human activity has garnered disgust. It has been said that that which lies in the past is dead. The excavation of the facets of our existence as a species raises eyebrows; we view ourselves as we were yesterday via a dissociated lens. It is perhaps easier for us to approach the day tomorrow will bring if we forget what happened on its eve. It is no secret that we have garnered distrust among each other. We sanctify bloodshed & burn books; looting spaces dedicated to intellectual property in the name of shadowing ourselves from the person that we are. We loom in the damage of our own actions with a rage rippling the cuticles of our fingers. We are as we have always been, hard as we try to hide it. Before continuing, I would like to make it explicitly clear that this book includes ideology & terminology that is rooted in bigotry. The purpose of this story highlights that the system of personal & institutional beliefs that allows & encourages racist behaviour exists today. Therefore, throughout this book words are included that might render the reader uncomfortable, or remind them of a time wherein they felt unsafe. I encourage readers of the book & my review to approach both with caution. After reading this book I found myself in a state of reflection. It has taken me several attempts to breach the first paragraph of this review. I find myself unable to pick a starting point. This story presents an interesting premise; the violent terrors that once openly befell territories of people have rounded on themselves to become a witch hunt. Yet, that sentence does not necessarily feel like it does the story justice. It is no secret that the history of Black folks in the United States is tormented; raunch with horrors so terrifying, they could only have been the result of intentional action. Yet, within this truth, there is the main obstacle which the reader is meant to overcome. Does the code of Hammurabi leave everyone blind or are we better set to face life equally if our collective vision is diminished? Within the town of Money, Mississippi, the inhabitants have been unable to find their way through the history that guides them. It would be ignorant to state that the first chapter of this history opens on a vast & empty plane. Many Indigenous peoples saw their lives slashed in a petrifying genocide that has lasted until the present day. Indigenous peoples are still here, as we shall be tomorrow, as we were before. This fact makes the turning of the tides all the more saddening to behold. Hidden in plain sight are the antagonists of this story. These same familiar faces can be found in any society of people. One would know them as the boasting, bellowing, voices ringing through the streets of truths only they have to share. In more modern times, or in the case of a collective shunning of such intentional ignorance; these same people find their way through the channels that plague the virtual world. When once we thought we might be able to share in a nice thing, we are swiftly proven wrong. Within the context of this story, the online world plays a key role in gratifying the original intention. Who pays the price for that which has been done? We find ourselves, perhaps, at another crossroads. I shall not pretend to understand the intricacies of the United States Justice System but, I would not need to be an expert to note that the system suffers from a lack of a clear mandate. Are people meant to be discouraged from crime or are people to serve as examples to one another? Here we come upon another problem; who punishes the inner workings of villainy if all who perpetrate violence lean on one another for support through the action? This very question is asked repeatedly throughout this story. Readers are brought to a fork in the road where they must question their own understanding of jurisprudence. The victims in this story are of two groups, it depends entirely on the reader to decide who deserved to die. This statement alone feels extreme & yet that is the way I intended it. When people are hung from trees to be skinned alive by racist goons can we not conclude that this behaviour is extreme? When people evict to reprimand everyone whom they believe to have ties to an ideology based on physical traits, can we not conclude this to be extreme? Who deserves to pay for these actions? Who is to be held responsible for the continued violence that is perpetrated throughout our species? I believe that life is filled with nuance, enough to allow us a moment to truly think about things. When the groups of alleged vigilantes in Money, Mississippi, decide that they are going to go about murdering the descendants of men who horrifically murdered a 14-year-old Emmett Till, they do not think about the precedent that their actions set. In their minds, they are doing what is right by eviscerating the bloodline of those who committed violence from the world. The same can be said for the zombies that are brought forward. The problem with extreme ideologies is that they often do not leave room for the truth. No child deserves to be massacred, ever, let alone for a bewilderingly stupid accusation. Justice is done by bludgeoning idiot customs to allow our communities to function peacefully. The men who were murdered by the vigilantes & by the zombies were people who were actively perpetrating hate. You will not hear any complaints from me when it comes to ridding the world of atrocities. How do we choose who is good & who is bad? This might seem like a silly question. Certainly, as within the book, those who massacre are evil. Those who engage in hate are evil. Those who harm children are evil. The original group of vigilantes wanted to feel a sense of retribution for the crimes that had gone unpunished. It seems to them that the descendants of violent crimes are able to waltz through life without worry. There is no sufficient penalty for causing the unjust death of a person, especially that of a child. Murdering these men leaves behind crumbs uncollected. These men have children who are now affected by a lifetime of grief. We come again to a fork in the road. Many readers will have come upon the age-old question regarding Hitler as a baby & whether or not his birth meant the rise of terror that was seen in WWII. It might feel good to say that one death to save the lives of millions is worthwhile. This is also a gruesome oversimplification. Just as we might note that ideologies are supported by the angelic figures of the righteous, so too are ideologies supported by the cruel carapaces of the vile. The death of the face of a movement does not demolish the ideology; these things live in us. Therefore, which death will serve as the final sacrifice needed to set our societies right? The children of the men who were killed because they were saturating the world in bigotry & hate will still have to live with the consequences of pain. These children will grow up without a person that society says is meant to be a representation of love. Whether or not these men were wonderful fathers is beside the point. These children are now faced with an adult problem. It is difficult to vocalize how vital safety is in our lives. When you grow up in a home in which you do not feel safe, the world is set in front of you like a minefield. You are forever hoping that your shin does not get blown through your leg muscles; the world is as cruel as your first experiences of it. Will the vigilantes feel safer in the world after they have killed three (3) people? Will their lives be altered for the better knowing that these men are no longer around? That is for them to answer. The story seems to indicate that they do not have the chance to ponder this question as the tide turns to revel in a rise in openly violent crimes. I hesitate to say that violent crimes are on the rise, or that the crimes in this book are now being done openly whereas once they were hidden. As I stated before, times only change for those who are standing on the iceberg as it slowly melts. For those who have been accustomed to the freezing waters in which they are meant to float, the circumstances of these crimes are nothing new. This leads me to my final point, the insurgence of what I have, up until now, referred to as zombies. I do not have the knowledge of calling them by another name. What is important to remember here is who these people once were. When we are first introduced to them, they are hidden within stacks of filling in the home of an old woman. They are known only to us as the victims of heinous crimes. As the story progresses they become names. They are listed to the reader as people. When we name something it becomes real. This is a belief system that many people hold which is why certain unfavourable aspects of life remain nameless or are shunned from their vocabulary. For some people, when you name a thing it develops an essence—something of a livelihood that it did not have before it was called upon. I very much appreciated the inclusion of this belief system in this story because it gave weight to the distress that lived in the hearts of all. After the names of the deceased were said out loud, after they became, once more, the people they had been in life, their stories were real. The ethnicity of people I am part of believes very actively in the power of stories. For us, when you share a part of a memory you have of someone, you are allowing that person to live forever. Emmett Till lived in the memories of people even more than 60 years after his murder. By calling him by his name; sharing his story; vocalizing his reality; his essence was able to glide through time & connect once again to his body. We are so much more ourselves when we understand that a part of us lives in the hearts & minds of those around us. We are someone to those we meet at the grocery store as well as the people who love us dearly. The names of the victims of violent crimes are people that were loved, even if they didn’t know it. Their names deserve to be shared & their lives deserve to be remembered. This story employs a magical realism approach to ghosts in the world of the living. Someone is not truly gone for those who remember them. Where does this leave the reader? Perhaps it is uncomfortable to think about all of the complexities that exist within our history & the things that are shadowed by newsstands in the present day. It is not a good feeling to know that someone is hurt on your watch. It is a worse feeling to know that something could have been done to prevent harm, & yet it was not done. At the end of the day, we are responsible for the world that we live in. My actions are a reflection of my beliefs & of my person. It is my responsibility to ensure that what I put out into the world ensures the peace I hoped to find myself. When all is said & done, I appreciated what this story sought to achieve. The questions posed within this narration are an acute reflection of the disturbances we meet in everyday life. Negligence to listen to stories incites poverty of the soul. It is not an accusation when someone shares with us the pain that they hold or the ways in which they experience the world. To ensure that rotted apples do not poison a tree we need the diligent hands of an esteemed & tender gardener. The orchard houses many trees but the trees whose roots are deep, those that understand the benefit of ecologically sound, nutrient-heavy, well-tended soil, gift the world crisp reminders of interwoven life. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Apr 02, 2023
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Apr 02, 2023
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Paperback
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63
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| 1416550534
| 9781416550532
| 1416550534
| 3.95
| 119,030
| 2006
| Mar 03, 2009
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it was amazing
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**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), the consequences of war, Shell Shock, psychological distress, violence, financial insecurity, substance abuse, suicide, grief, & others. There is something magical in voyaging through time via the story held in a book. When I first came across Morton’s writing it was by chance. Having wandered into a local bookshop one afternoon after work, I found myself drawn to “The Clockmaker’s Daughter” (2018). I have since read this very book twice & am making my way through all of Morton’s published work in anticipation of her April release. Because of fate—a stroke of luck—the tendency for my heart to be drawn to the promise of a marvellous story, I was lucky enough to find myself a lifetime love in everything that Morton has put on to the page. When Grace Reeves was fourteen (14) she began working in service for the family who dawned the halls of the house on the hill; Riverton. Life for Grace was not easy as she maneuvered her way into a home full of inhabitants who were familiar with her mother, her life, & who felt no need to welcome her presence with kindness. The time she spent waging war against dust mites & saturated floorboards left her intimately acquainted with a lifestyle that was never to be her own. The period of time in which these parts transport the story is but one of two moments in which the reader becomes familiar with Grace. During her recollections, Grace is seated sturdy in a chair, watched over by Sylvie, her caretaker. The days that once saw Grace roam on foot & attend to the needs of others have long since given way to the final grains of sand in the hourglass of her life; hardly able to escape if she tried. What makes Grace such a charming narrator & main character is her ability to welcome herself as she is into the truth that she knew. Never does Grace try & pretend that she is someone she is not. During her moments of remembered ignorance, poor choices, sadness, & anger, she transports the reader back in earnest for she feels no need to shade us from a sun that rises habitually. Though this is my second time reading this book I find myself once again far too eager to simmer on the plot; rather disenchanted from the prospect of writing a review. This is always a peculiar feeling for me as I have always loved discussing what I have read. Yet, when I find myself at the end of a Morton-written story I find myself faced with the weight of realization. Therefore, before beginning my jaunt down a lane littered with rose petals & blooming dandelions, allow me a moment of pure praise for the author. It is not easy to write a good story. Many cultures of people place different values on storytelling, my own people view the tradition as essential; delicate in its virtue & sublime in its vitality. Even knowing this, there are few people within the human species who have the knack required to transport the mind of the bipartisan. Certainly, one can swoop another person on a whim down a laneway riddled with dramatic twists & bludgeoning goons but, to allow a listener—a reader—to walk down a path on their own, guided solely by the words whispered through shadows…that is a skill unmatched. Morton has repeatedly showcased her ability to weave a tale bolder than the mountainside. In every plot that Morton incites, she welcomes the reader to go through it alone; believing that every reader is equipped with enough courage, intellect, & heart to walk the road that will journey them through time, the lives of the unseen, & expose them to the treachery that exists in their communities snuggly between people like you & me. I appreciate this very much. I cannot say enough positive things about an author who works their skill. It is one thing to be insatiably talented, another ordeal entirely to know one’s own talent so well as to recognize how to shape it into a masterpiece. I hope all readers have the chance to come across books written by authors who care so very much about the work they are producing. As Grace becomes accustomed to her life in the big house, the number of inhabitants grows. David, Hannah, & Emmeline arrive to spend time with their grandparents & delve into a world of adventures across the property. The Game, as Grace calls it, takes up the majority of their time. Each of the children dream of a world where they can be free; a person all to their own liberated from the society that trapped them into titles & behaviours. Though this particular aspect of the story does not necessarily reveal itself in any obvious sense, it might appear to the reader as though the children spend the entirety of their short lives chasing an imaginary image of life. This becomes a sadder point on which to reflect given David’s wistful choice to enlist in WWI & subsequently die on the field of battle in France. While reading this story I found myself eager to correct certain actions or behaviours of the characters. Why did no one think that the war would be gruesome? Certainly, many other battles took place up until this point in time, yet many young people were eager to make a name for themselves in bloodshed. Why didn’t Frederick respond to his son while he was alive? How could a parent watch their child walk off to war & ignore their correspondence, with the heavy heart of someone who recognized the dual mistakes played by their persons? It is so easy to watch as a bystander & make judgment calls; I have the benefit of the safety of my home while reading this, and I am not called to the front. Some people retain the naivety that war is a game. Certainly, egos alter the perspective of death & destruction. Children are enlisted as soldiers, young people are pawns in a darkened arena without a choice. I wish someone along the line might have stepped in, & revealed that death is never so far away as it appears; is a stranger in the night via the creaking floorboards of our houses & sneaks into our rooms through whistling winds cold from their long journey. We would, however, not have a story if someone had done this. We might even have a different life outside of fiction if representatives had cautioned of the world's evils. We cannot alter the past. Because of this fact, we watch Hannah & Emmeline drift apart from the bond that they once held. Each sister began to grow in a direction that was representative of a desire misunderstood by the other. I found the way that Morton wrote about their relationship to be very honest & appropriate for the time period. Though one might note that both characters could have easily been women in a multitude of moments in time, they fit snuggly in the years in which this story takes place. The relationship & behaviour they exhibit with regard to themselves, each other, & those around them revealed a far larger picture than that which Morton paints. The plight for freedom, regardless of the cost, takes centre stage in this plot. Our young & incredibly ignorant narrator wanders through life seeking a breach from the constraints of her own life. She no longer wants to be alone but cannot tie herself to any person who would bring her the heartfelt warmth she so desires. I suppose that growing up in the earlier years of the century did not help her quest to find fulfillment. She did not have the liberty of asking for help, of telling a friend she wished they were closer; of spreading her love for Alfred in any way other than in secret. Each other character seeks their own validation in a world that has set the stage for a play in which they hold no substantive roles. How are any of these women meant to survive in a world where they are not wanted, not needed? They spend their lives on the wrong side of a swinging door waiting to be admitted into the room. I found this to be very sad to read. The conclusion of this book had me reflecting on all the ways in which the characters failed but also, the ways in which they failed themselves. Maybe things might have been different if Hannah & Emmeline had spoken. Maybe if no secrets were kept nothing would need to be kept hidden. Maybe if the world had allowed for the young sisters to be themselves in childhood they would not have felt so different from each other. There is no way to know for certain that things would have changed if by a single alteration. Hannah was always ignorant of life. She never questioned whether or not Grace actually knew shorthand, she assumed. She never gave way to rhetoric when speaking to Grace because she retained her taught beliefs; Grace was a servant to the house. Regardless of how much progress each of the characters made, they remained stiff in their ways of ignorance. I suppose this is not so different from the non-fictional world which is what makes this story all the more devastating. If I could revisit this story for the first time, I would. I will read this book again in a couple of years because I find the flow of reality intermingled with the fantastical events, a flash of honesty in a world of hidden secrets. I came upon the final scene this time around wishing that things would be different. Why did anyone need to die? Why is death the final straw for conflict? I do not have the answer to that, nor with regard to this story or in real life. What I do know is that this book brings out a habitual cycle of reflection for me. I cannot escape the desire to read Morton’s books a thousand times over for the flow of the reveal; the deceit, the honest truth of our entities. Our inability to be ourselves in a world that has sectioned us off to be fictional characters in a twilight zone of our dreams. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Jan 05, 2023
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Dec 31, 2022
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Paperback
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57
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| 1788951514
| 9781788951517
| 1788951514
| 4.16
| 221
| unknown
| Sep 29, 2022
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really liked it
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**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on the death of a child, graphic descriptions of body decomposition, suicide, abuse, child endangerment, violence, parental neglect, psychological distress, graphic descriptions of hunting practices, the death of an animal, & others. On Bird Rock Island, things go missing & the minds of the owner go along with them. The land that houses a history unknown & uncharted even by the most diligent record keepers, reeks of malice & malaise. During the summer when their father decided that his girls should come to him, Jess & Rosie Oliver voyage hours by train, boat, & through hostel layovers, to arrive at the island to spend their two (2) dedicated weeks of the year with their father. The disappearance of Rosie, who is still in the recovery phase of an unnamed illness, changes the dynamics in a situation that Jess was already eager to escape. This book asks the age-old question with a twist: does a person exist if they aren’t remembered by anyone? I would like to take a moment to highlight the severity of the content warning for this book. This story is categorized in the Young Adult Fiction genre however, a great deal of the subject matter is dreadful & might have a severely negative impact on the mental well-being of a variety of readers—no matter their age. Within this story, repeated instances of parental neglect are depicted. Some of these instances result in the very graphic & violent death of the child in question whereas others lead to children being abandoned; their mental stability utilized against them in a power play. Please be kind to yourselves & heed the warning of advancing no further within this book or my review if you should not feel it appropriate to do so. When the reader meets Jess she is attempting to recollect a series of events that took place over the course of two (2) weeks. Our narrator is 15 years old & is at a place where she wants to focus on the things in life that bring her a sense of fulfillment & joy. Her family situation leaves much to be desired & many of her monologues revolve around the frustration she feels at having to adapt to a new familial situation. I truly appreciated this aspect of the story because this is a facet of life many people have to deal with. Nathan, Jess & Rosie’s father, has married Kate & they’ve had a child together. Neither Jess nor Rosie has ever met their 6-year-old younger brother. Therefore it is not a mystery to any reader why there is a level of disconnect between the narrator & her parent. Though I appreciated that this situation between characters was explored in with an honest approach, the parenting style in this story emulates the ones we see in stories taking place in the 80s & 90s where parental figures express a level of apathy towards the occurrences that take place & have an overall disconnect between their title as a parent & their acted responsibilities. This approach can work well within a plot but I found it bizarre to see such a lack of care within a story published in 2022. That is not to say that I do not acknowledge that this style of parenting is alive & prominent in the world—I do. What I mean to say is that there were multiple instances wherein Nathan was seemingly written as attempting to approach the relationship with Jess & Rosie in as healthy a way as possible even though he only saw them for two weeks out of the year. He then turns around & ignores signs they are emitting that things aren’t okay. These instances can surely be intended plot devices; ensuring the reader develops an unclear image of the adults within the story, sometimes being frightening looming figures, other times the ignorant wanderer unsure of anything. In my opinion, it would have been to the benefit of the story to have both Nathan & Kate developed with a bit more detail & attention to their depth as individuals. It was strange that Jess & Rosie had never met their younger brother in the six years since he was born. It was strange that neither Kate nor Nathan would be on edge knowing that Rosie had spent an elongated period of time in hospital for an illness that had everyone fearing she might not recover. This instance in particular is one that made me question the trajectory of the story. On the one hand, I appreciated the ambiguity that was taken when presenting Rosie & her stint in the hospital. On the other hand, I would have appreciated it detailed clearly given the fact that every other instance of gore & terror is presented to the reader with ample adjectives & adverbs to ensure that nothing was glossed over. I truly admire a book that can set the tone for itself clearly & I enjoyed that Bell wrote such a story that went about presenting terrible things in as clear a fashion as possible. There is certainly something to be said for ambiguity & secrecy yet, this story flourished under the declaration of horror. I link the desire for Rosie’s hospital stay to be written with more clarity alongside the graphic violence that Conall experienced because they are very similar. Both children experienced a devastating blow very early in their lives & for those readers who might be living similar situations or circumstances taking the time to present Rosie’s illness for what I suspect it to be, may very well help other such children too. Based solely on the fact that Jess fears that Rosie might relapse if her emotions start to move in a downward-facing motion, I suspect that Rosie might have been hospitalized for either/both, suicidal ideations or attempted suicide. This deduction is made because Jess is constantly keeping an eye on Rosie’s mood & the way she is experiencing various scenarios. Even when Jess writes that she didn’t feel necessarily positive or happy about something, she wanted to make sure that she was putting forth her most enthusiastic response & behaviours so that Rosie’s mood was kept elevated & optimistic. I say this as someone who has experience within this domain; stories that present this subject matter are vital & can save the lives of children by presenting a gentle & subtle reminder that they are not alone in this life. Certainly, this is all speculation. However, when Nathan thinks that Jess is losing her sanity after Rosie has disappeared, he expressed that he cannot stand by & tend to her mental health needs & so she will be sent back to live with her mother, cutting the holiday short. This, again, leads me to believe that Rosie was placed under medical care because of a fear for her life & well-being that was not linked to a virus but to invisible malice. It is important to remember that young people, & children, experience mental illness too—depression, anxiety, neurological conditions, consequences of abuse, etc. are not simply things that plague the psyche of the aged among us. This story highlights Conall’s experiences with horrific parental neglect & shows the readers that even though the haunting that took place was a tragic consequence of Conall’s lack of emotional well-being, the repercussions of parental abuse are not imagined or fictional, they are real. During his life, Conall was sent to the Workhouse after his father could not—would not—care for him. Conall was told that his mother was dead whereas she was not & was then sentenced to death for inadvertently killing a guard after being attacked. For those who have an acute awareness of the horrors that have taken place across the globe in institutions like the Workhouses, it is not difficult to imagine what Conall was experiencing during his sentence. His father helped him escape only to tell him that he would have to be kept in the basement section of the lighthouse so that no one would suspect he was around & therefore neither he nor his father would be sent to their deaths for evading criminal persecution. I praise Bell, once again, for the way in which she introduced this character & the ways in which she went about describing the horrors of his life. When Jess & Will meet Conall in the Stranger’s Room in the Lighthouse there is no long-drawn-out sequence that sees the book stall. Bell ensured that the information that the reader was required to know was given in a seamless fashion & allowed the series of events to be felt in all their morbid entirety. I could not help but think that this story would prosper well if tweaked a bit for an older audience. The horrors explored within the narrative are stark & truly maddening in their honest portrayal. There are so many aspects of this story that remind me of Classics, specifically those within the Horror genre. One can easily link the experiences of Charlie & his paralyzing fear of the kitchen to the experiences of Tommy & the cellar in David H. Keller’s “The Thing in the Cellar” (1940). Many of the themes explored within this narrative ring true for aspects of the genre that lay like maggots’ eggs inside the membrane of the reader; rotting the genteel thoughts of the mind until they are consumed & forever after changed. I appreciated the inclusion of Scottish lore such as the Bean Nighe. The lore regarding two-way mirrors & the fear of having one’s spirit stuck behind the glass was a beautiful touch to this spooky story. I was eager for Jess to discover that the things she did not understand were not necessarily aspects of reality that are ominous. I was proud to see a young protagonist so certain of herself & her quest to save her sister. This leads me to my next point & one which I believe many readers will appreciate—the relationship between Jess & Rosie was loving & kind. I am so pleased & truly grateful to have come upon a story that presents sisterhood as a relationship between people that can be kind, loving, patient, empathetic, thoughtful, & positive. Though Jess & Rosie recognize how different they are & how their own personal interpretation of events & occurrences might vary, there is never a moment when the two are paired against each other. The entire story revolves around keeping up the memory of those we love. It was wonderful to see a pair of sisters know they could rely on each other while not needing the snarky dialogue often included in fictional female relationships, to push them along. When Charlie tells Jess that they forgot Rory on the island, she does not push him aside nor neglects his feelings. The relationship between all the siblings is one that sees them genuinely want the best for each other, even when they do not have the history to back their connection; Jess & Rosie recognize Charlie as being a younger sibling & do not subject him to torment for the sake of letting out their emotions. I appreciated the connection that all the young people drew between each other & how their trust in one another helped them solve the mystery of the forgotten. In all, this was a wonderfully haunted story of mirrors, phantoms, & lore. The premise sequestered itself between tiles of black mould & darkness to present the reader with a terrible tale that the washerwoman in the fog could not make clean. I am grateful to have read a story that had my pupils dilate like the eel’s before he snacked on the skin of the forgotten child in the basement. Thank you to NetGalley, Little Tiger Group, Stripes Publishing, & Alex Bell for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review! ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Sep 15, 2022
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Sep 18, 2022
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Paperback
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52
| 
| 3.71
| 108,089
| 2018
| Jan 09, 2018
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did not like it
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on abuse, the self-mutilation of a child, the death of an animal, the sexual assault of a child, the death of a minor, terminal illness, physical violence, sexual violence, reproductive rights, substance abuse, Ephebophilia, & others. Once upon a time, there was a man who had a story to tell; a trip down memory lane riddled with uncertainty, unreliability, darkness, & shadows, the story told the tale of a group of four (4) young friends & the events that led them to discover the mutilated body of a school-mate, hidden under piles of autumn leaves one early morning. Unsatisfactorily, the story that this man, Eddie, has to tell is through the single reflected narration that he chooses to share. Due to his stunted ability to recall the name of a ‘keyhole’, one is left wondering why he would put so much effort into remembering this story at all for, to whom is he telling it? What role does the reader play in this game of shadows? I suggest any readers who come upon my review heed the content warning I placed at the beginning because unseasoned readers of Horror will be quite shocked to find that this book, deemed primarily a ‘Thriller’ is indeed filled to the brim with morose accounts of graphically terrible things. So begins my main qualm with this story. Had Tudor taken it upon themselves to write a Horror they might have been at the precipice of a good story; had they decided to write a Thriller, the bulk of this novel is useless & is unimportant to the core of the narrative. Because this book fails at inspiring any level of unease, suspense, terror, worry, or thrill, I am left wondering who along the way cushioned this book to be published under the guise that it be anything save jagged puzzle pieces left under the chesterfield in a home whose inhabitants forgot they own board games. I enjoy reading Horror a fair amount. If I were asked, I should be inclined to say that it is one of my favourite genres to read & the reason for that is because a good Horror story is indeed a delicate sway over the thin sheet of ice that covers a river in winter; the details, pensive reflection, & effort that go into writing these stories is exceptional. One cannot simply toss wet spaghetti at a wall & call it a meal just as one cannot simply enumerate terrible things & call it a story. Within this book we see Tudor begin with the effort of trying to incorporate graphic gore without proper build-up. When Elisa’s face is slashed to the bone by the metal of the ride, I was left wondering why this scene was blown-through so quickly. Are we meant to feel repulsed? Was the intention to grant the reader a tinge of terror only to remind them that this event had little to do with the story? I am repeatedly left wondering what the intention was behind any of what transpired throughout this story. Should Tudor’s desire have been to intertwine the general Thriller genre with Horror, there needed to be a dedicated build to the events that transpired. In place of this storytelling, we see the story bombard the reader with casual mentions of abuse—most of which affect young children—as though this were a very casual subject of conversation that did not merit the time & energy necessary to broach it. If one were to study the behaviours of any of the children with the surface-level amount of information that the author grants us, one need not be a professional within the field of psychology to note that the children in this story were exposed to horrific levels of violence—both physical, psychological, & sexual—that was swept past in an effort to arrive at the conclusion. What is the purpose of introducing characters like Nicky only for them to be given no worthwhile effort in the totality of the story? One needs talent, poise, & a decent train of thought to introduce characters of children who are being abused. It is mind-numbing to me that we are still seeing such a blatant inability to approach subject matters pertaining to childhood trauma (generalized) in the year in which this book was written. Though I appreciate that the plot of this story is split between the years 1986 & 2016, the author writes about the young characters' childhoods as though they were growing up in the sticks of 1930s America. There is no excuse not to be dedicated to the craft when deciding that your story will include characters who suffered abuse as children. Do better. It is very important to me that this point is made clear because I am utterly disgusted at the fact that the author saw fit to include multiple scenes in which children were being violently abused only for the story to magically forget that any of those events transpired. What did it add to the story for Eddie to watch Nicky sit in the park & use her crucifix necklace to inflict physical mutilation on her legs? Why would the author include this if we are never to touch on it again? Are we to assume that because Nicky was self-harming as a child, she was experiencing suicidal ideations? Or perhaps we are to view this scene as all the other scenes & simply take away that this child was being chronically abused by her Ephebophilia, & predatory, parent whom Eddie’s mother believes deserves forgiveness? What is the goal here? What was the intention of this story? Eddie experiences graphic sexual violence from the older brother of one of his friends, after being furiously beaten by three (3) teenage boys. Even though Mr. Halloran saw the abuse take place he looks past it hoping that his presence as an adult will dissuade these teenagers from ever sexually assaulting another child. All the while Sean, the perpetrator, has a younger brother who could be suffering the exact same abuse we just witnessed inflicted on Eddie & no one bats an eye. I am aware that throughout history there have been multiple instances where well-meaning people did not fully understand the gravity of events however, the author has the benefit of the internet, studied professionals, & years of tallied accounts of these same experiences of violence transpiring. Therefore, why did Tudor write all the antagonists—the predators, the sexual deviants—as being just like everyone else in town? Why did Eddie’s mother vilify Mr. Halloran for his inaction towards Elisa when she knew from a first-hand account that the Vicar (Nicky’s father) was raping a 16-year-old girl & had gotten her pregnant under the guise of gifting her religious enlightenment? Why did she continue to visit this man in the hospital after everything that he did? What makes his actions worth forgiving? He was abusing his power as head of the local church to rape a young teenager. What part of her medical training & years as the mother of a child made it so she was blissful & without care when it came to facing off with a literal sexual predator? This situation is absurd & genuinely has the story drown itself in ridiculousness; at what point am I meant to care about the person who was abusing children & then also murdered them? The answer is, never. There is no point at which this story holds an ounce of intrigue or mystery, the author has clearly set out the reveal in the initial chapters & one may question why the author would do that if the goal is to have readers finish the book & not toss it out the window. I’m not sure in which town in America the reputation held by the Catholic Church does not precede it but, apparently, every member of this town was oblivious to the fact that heads of religious institutions, can in fact be the bad guys. Unsurprisingly, the Vicar is revealed to have been the one who murdered Elisa in a twist so shockingly stupid I don’t even know where to begin. Even in 1986, when hair dye might not have been what it is today, there is no way on this green earth that someone is going from dark hair to the natural pigmentation of a blonde in under a week. Please do not play the reader for a fool in a subject matter that is easily able to be disproved. It’s swell to think that Chloe, with her chemically dyed black hair, could strip that colour in one shot but, I’m telling you that’s not how it works. Just as it would have been swell for Elisa, with her naturally dark hair to have gone blonde in one shot, yet again, I am telling you that’s not how it works—the bleaching process alone would have mangled her hair beyond recognition if they were inducing it to a blonde state that rivalled the natural blonde of her friend, Hannah. Yet what is remarkably incredible in all of this, is the fact that the Vicar is evidently oblivious to hair colour because the only reason he killed Elisa was that she had blonde hair. How does that figure? Even assuming that she would have been able to achieve a blonde to rival Hannah’s you’re expecting me to believe that the Vicar, in an attempt to settle the score after being beaten by vigilantes, decided to choke some random girl who also had blonde hair because he was too daft to recognize that everyone was using the woods for sexual activities? The reveal in this story is hilariously bad. This man, the vicar, was beaten in the head with baseball bats within an inch of his life & you’re expecting me to believe that the next week he was roaming the woods wielding an axe & choking people to death? Do you understand how physically difficult it is to choke someone to death with your bare hands? It’s not a waltz through the park & a simple Google search would tell you that. Do you know how dextrous you need to be to wield an axe? Certainly, I would not expect someone who had such catastrophic brain injuries to be playing woodsman in the middle of the night; where did he even get the axe? Regardless of how nonsensical the reveal is, I was left once again wondering why Eddie’s lack of depth had to be the ploy on which this story rested. As a child, Eddie exhibited serious tendencies toward thieving; he would steal everything & kept almost all things as keepsakes. This is never explored in any depth & instead, the author decides that the signs that this child was exhibiting were enough reason for him to steal the decapitated head of Elisa from the woods & hide it in the floorboards of his family house. At this point, I do not believe that the author has the skill to write a good story & the next questions I pose are not rhetorical because it would mean I am expecting something from a person who is unable to provide it. This is the ideal moment for the story to explore the dissociative actions that Eddie exhibits at night; this child is literally drawing little chalk men around town & cannot remember having done it but it’s more important to read the physical descriptions of the decapitated head then grant this child any semblance of reprieve for what he was experiencing. Why were we not able to read about a single instance in which any of the exhibitions of trauma, events of experienced trauma, or the wording alluding to trauma, were given any level of seriousness? Why were the events that these children had to live through used as casual markers of a story which was not worth writing in the first place? This is inappropriate & irresponsible. Though it is certainly reflective of reality when people keep things hidden or are unable to garner the help that they deserve; this story simply employed horrific violence against the youth as a means of adding some quirks to a plot that had no substance. Therefore, we return to my original question, what was the intention? Did Tudor want to write a Thriller? If so, why did they not follow simple markers for achieving that? There is too much within this plot that requires the reader to be totally out to lunch while reading it to forgive the blasphemous disservice to all of the themes that are presented. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Jul 25, 2022
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Jul 24, 2022
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Kindle Edition
| ||||||||||||||||
54
| 
| 1643752995
| 9781643752990
| B09F5YHL4N
| 4.26
| 4,297
| Jul 26, 2022
| Jul 26, 2022
|
it was ok
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on substance abuse, terminal illness, grief, graphic depictions of violence, racially motivated bigotry, parental abuse, fertility, & others. Beginning in the late 1970s, the matriarch recalls the event that became the stone that broke her grandson, Ever. In this introductory way the reader is welcomed into the thoughts &, sometimes, written dedications from members of Ever’s family; waltzing us through cataclysmic events that shaped him to be the man sitting in line waiting for the gift of a safe home. Regarding Ever, one never truly knows him; preferring to keep the main character & ultimate study of this generational account a mystery sulked in the lore of his people, Hokeah allows the reader to come to their own conclusions. I will begin with noting the aspects of this book that I enjoyed & will do so firstly by stating that I had been eagerly anticipating this book for months. The cover art stands on its own as an aspect of great beauty & power; a sliver strangling the skin of the man who wishes to be all that he is; broken down by the actions of those who were not enough themselves to allow him to see his wish fulfilled. The story behind the cover art does not disappoint. Presenting the inter-generational accounts of a single family as they divulge precious moments in the life of Ever & culminating in his final appearance in the story, in a fashion eerily similar to that of his father’s last months on earth. I find it difficult to review this book because I find myself standing at something of a mental crossroads. On the one hand, I very much appreciated the narrative that was being presented in this book. The writing style was dissociated to the point of leaving me feeling exceedingly disconnected from the experiences as though I really were a friend of a friend & someone had been telling me Ever’s story. However, in that same breath, I do not enjoy that presentation in literature. I would say this is specifically something I seek to avoid because it is very difficult to present readers with a story—at once overwhelmingly moving while steadfastly realistic—& keeping them at arm’s length, asking them to become emotionally involved with a person they cannot begin to know. Working through chapters wherein family members recounted specific events in Ever’s life, ones they were privy to knowing, left me initially intrigued because I felt that there might be a connection to the man we were beginning to know. However, at some point in the middle of the book, I grew tired of the seemingly random recounts & wondered when we might, once again, regain traction & return to the essence of the plot. I acknowledge that my feelings towards the general format & presentation of this book are exceedingly personal. Many readers who do not mind sustaining such a casual distance will be fine with this approach. As well, readers who do not find the jumble of casual accounts off-putting, for lack of realistic details that they might provide, might also enjoy this read. That is not to say that I do not trust Ever’s family but, in essence, they are not him & therefore cannot accurately account for the person he became. I feel this principally in the chapter that explores his mother’s memory of the moment when he enlisted in the Army. For the entirety of Ever’s childhood, his parents were both physically abusive & entirely neglectful. I cannot think to care that Turtle felt worried about the behaviours of her 20-year-old son when the time had long since passed for her to present herself as a parent worth commemorating. She remained in a house with a partner who literarily beat their child senselessly, leading him to evoke distressing behaviours. Not once did she think that it would be to her children’s benefit to leave the abusive home. It’s important that I highlight that I am in no way saying that it is an easy feat to leave an abusive relationship or home. I have first-hand experience of the difficulties that surround these environments. However, because I have that first-hand experience, I am also, unfortunately, lacking in patience to see children placed in situations in which they do not belong nor should they ever have to live through. Coming across instances such as these, wherein the actions of a character are reinforced by the deliberate repetition of a cycle, I find it most difficult to swallow my annoyance—please do better for your children. Yet, in that same breath, I understand that when you are that person—when you are Turtle, in this case—breaking the cycle of abuse seems practically impossible. In the end, she maintained her relationship with her father who was a violent alcoholic & absentee parent for the majority of her existence. Why? I cannot begin to assume her many reasons for doing so. Nor would I want to appear insensitive towards her choices as, again, I have a leg to stand on in this situation as well. Hokeah has written a story that appears personal while retaining an air of unawares, as though the premise simply came to him by a rain cloud. Much of what transpires within the chapters lingers in the mind due to the lacking depth that would expound this story into the hearts of every reader, not just those who find themselves within the pages. I do acknowledge that one is able to propel a profound story into the minds of many a reader, with simplistic & distinct prose however, this was no such case. This book might have done well had the chapters included someone worth rooting for; someone who had emotional depth without being out to lunch. Saying this I acknowledge that the grandmother figure was indeed very emotionally driven yet, neither of her children took her seriously. I appreciate those amongst our species who are able to be vulnerable & gentle—to be soft is the utmost strength & I admire that, innately. However, no character within this book presented themselves in ways that might lead the reader to feel that they were to be trusted; that this character truly had their act together. Even within the first chapter one is left feeling that there is a distinct detail within the story that is missing. Why is Lena so transactional with her children? Why does she need to sway them with money to spend time with them? Were her feelings towards Ever having a sickness in his soul accurate? Perhaps the sickness is the experiences that haunt our memories without granting us the reprieve of a window in which to filter fresh air; cloistering the confines of our strangled mind. Perhaps the sickness was a lack of health; a morphing malaise running through the blood of all those sliced at the knees by figures meant to love them. In all, I wanted more from this book. I wanted the writing to sweep me away. Instead, I found myself longing to skim the majority of the chapters. It is not enough to simply present events that are relatable, familiar, common, or otherwise communal; one needs to swindle the reader into the story, leaving them feeling that there is little disconnect between their own lived experiences & the tenderly swaying emotions of the characters. Those present in this book were strangers; hidden figures in an otherwise troubled river of water. I am left feeling that something intrinsic was missing from this story to rivet me to the core with floundering feelings of fondness for a book written well. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Aug 12, 2022
|
Jun 08, 2022
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Kindle Edition
| |||||||||||||
46
| 
| B09RHLM6H8
| 3.42
| 5,660
| May 24, 2022
| May 24, 2022
|
it was amazing
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on graphic descriptions of physical decomposition & body fluid, gore, disease, sexual promiscuity, body mutilation, & others. The house that Louise shared with her husband, Edward Wilk, will be repossessed by the bank. The life she knew in comfort from the one she worked to obtain has shifted & Louise will be leaving Manhattan for the Buffalo home that housed the Wilk family for generations. On the eve of their departure, in November of 1900, Louise ensures that all the preparations are made & she reflects upon the moment when she first saw the vacant home of her partner in a photograph depicting the shadow of a being unknown within the home. Ruthnum’s writing is pointed, simplistic & morbid. There is no necessity in sautéing the words with thick saucy prose; the vernacular employed within this novella leaves the reader with the immediate sensation of being shadowed in a room near a closing door; the only door to the hallways & subsequently a way out of the house. Perhaps you have known the gumption of Gothic Horror that slithers trepidation across dated, shafting floorboards within desolated abodes. Perhaps you have come upon this book seeking the satiation that is felt when coming upon an orchard of chills. You have come to the right place. One may read this book ostentatiously for the horror alone; unflinching when the pink tips of the nail bed pinch their way through Edward’s tear ducks. One may also approach these 94 pages with the exaltation of someone who has come upon an author who seamlessly showcases their craft by describing the growing entity that slurped power from Edward’s brain, nestling itself in between vertebrae to become the new man we see him become at the end of the story. Whichever way you choose to interpret or absorb this story you will be left with sentiments of humour, for truly, the line that distinguishes laughter from screams is quite thin. What better reaction to a tongue that falls deadly out of a gaping mouth like a slippery slug on the rotting carpet of an abandoned home, than to laugh? Nothing is funny, certainly the opposite. However, Ruthnum’s writing is poignant to the point of being obscene. There is truly no greater way to approach a novella of horror than to teeter the line between morose decomposition & gory rebirth. The dual interpretations of this story will leave a reader pondering the implications of the character’s actions for hours after the completion of their read. Is the irony lost on any reader that Edward, the brilliant & respected surgeon of New York State is unable to riddle himself out of a deteriorating & rotting body? I should think not. Yet, not once does the author indicate that his sojourn through extramarital affairs is a reflection of incompetence or lack of moral stability. Edward is simply drawn to the physicality of what is around him in a bid to further a desire to become utterly & completely singular by exploring the duple exchange. Where do these encounters leave Louise? Louise works in the same field as the surgeon & is unperturbed by cleaning molten bedpans. Her sole desire remains to become a nurse so that she need not showcase gratuity for financially motivated employment. Louise person married Edward, not for the intimacy that he could offer her physically, for certainly, she received proximity to all those whom she healed with dedicated action; but for the absorption of the comfort his person brought into her life. I cannot say that I inherently understand the reasons behind any of the choices made within this story. Why would Louise choose to delve head-first into Edward’s carcass, disappearing from her individuality in life? Was she reliant on his body in a different way than Edward was when seeking out the pulsating flesh of other people? I suppose both chose to enter the bodies of other people to feel more themselves. The action of penetrating the entity of another individual holds a rather steep significance within this book. How much could Louise have truly felt a place within Edward when she had never visited the crevices in his shell? What is the significance of a lack of sexual reproductive organs on this new ‘Louise Wilk’? Are Louise & Edward alive in this sarcophagus or have they meshed together to an unrecognizable height which leaves them lacking in a singular body? Could one interpret that the metamorphosis of the two (2) individuals, living within one body, reflects the concurrent expressions of those who feel that there are no two without one; those who express coming to be in the mistake of anatomy that does not suit their soul? I suppose it should depend on the reader. Though, I am inclined to feel that this avenue is a worthy one to explore. A blossoming tether of imagery & personification of the flower that presents itself to Louise in the darkened apple orchard is brutal. Here the neutral entity expresses simply wanting to be alive, not wanting to destroy or repulse; no inherent negative or violent desires are held within the deconstructed razor flower. One could certainly look upon this creature as a simple reflection of the human species. How often we have bent over backwards to remain steadfast whilst simultaneously halting our own progress around every corner; unable to meet at the halfway point of consensus & respect. Edward’s brain is alive in his body though every other part of him has been absorbed by the flower. The mind is the driving force behind our presence in life. It is with appreciation & inflation that the flower leaves Edward’s brain unperturbed, surely knowing that Louise will grasp at the opportunity to revive the mental stamina of her husband though she will never be held by him again. When the final scene cuts like the nails through Isabel’s scalp the reader is presented with the concluding opportunity to regain their stance on their feelings towards this story. Is this one of metaphors or one of demise? The petals that warp around vertebrae slowly grow with the reimagined ‘Louise Wilk’ & tether themselves to be steady & slow, making certain to not outgrow the carapace that shelters them in this life. Friend or foe is the one who steadies themselves in the unknown; our fears, hopes & uncertainties, quantifying in the depths of places unvisited by the conscious abilities of our own entity. Thank you to Edelweiss+, Undertow Publications, & Naben Ruthnum for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review! ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
May 16, 2022
|
May 17, 2022
|
Kindle Edition
| |||||||||||||||
45
| 
| 1471190080
| 9781471190087
| B094K2TBY7
| 3.83
| 434
| unknown
| Feb 03, 2022
|
it was ok
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on grief, substance abuse, death in relation to driving under the influence, physical violence, bigotry, abortion, sexual assault, psychological distress, & others. Florence Carter is well into her 80s when she meets Alice, an 18-year-old girl who is struggling immensely with mental distress & anxiety. As their friendship develops, Florence (Flo) comes to the realization that Alice is not unlike herself; having been confined to the decisions her family made for her & the social requirements imposed on her due to her social status. Together they attempt to work through some of Alice’s fears while simultaneously healing her relationship with her mother, Clara. This book explores the similarities found amongst generations of people (women) who were wrought with iron-clad inabilities & fears; resigned to maintain what had been dictated to them until an outlier character appeared & blew their confines out of the water. One is left wondering how Bishop was able to maintain such distance from every single one of her characters whilst simultaneously attempting to entice the reader to delve further into their own empathy for the women’s situations. It is difficult to put my feelings & opinions into words with regard to this book because, on a surface level, this was a decent story. I think it’s important to reflect on the progress we have made as women in society; the freedoms we have in our possession, so to speak, that we had to go out of our way to obtain. Yet, in that same breath, the way this book approached women’s freedom & social advancement was so simplistic as to almost totally ignore the actual struggle experienced by every individual woman who tried for something different than what they were permitted to experience. If you are wondering if there is diversity in this book, there is not. There is the inclusion of a tertiary character within the fictional book that Lilli has written who is gay but otherwise, the woman that she represents outside of that book is not shown or spoken of except to include that she lives happily with her wife. I cannot say for certain that the inclusion of any divergent narrative would have altered the plot of this book whatsoever given that Bishop explored the subject matter in such a superfluous manner, it might have been insulting to read about any other ethnicity of people, etc.—everyone else who is not included in the story shall we say—with the same approach. However, that being said, I found myself wondering for whom this book was being written. This is a question that I ask myself when I come to realize that I would not have been recommended this book nor would I say that it is one which has succeeded in imprinting positively on my opinion. Therefore, I always seek to wonder who the ideal reader is, for, certainly there is one. I do not find it to be a negative aspect of reading when I come to the realization that a book was not written with me in mind; I am led to attempt to imagine which of my friends, family, or acquaintances would enjoy this read. The reasons for which I include the lack of diversity & the general approach of the subject matter function in tandem to highlight that Bishop wrote about a very specific experience of a very specific group of people & that is not inherently wrong—everyone deserves to have themselves represented in literature & other mediums. However, can one say for certain that a woman such as Florence would confidently say that the author of this book explored the subject matter with the gusto that it merits? I think not. I am not someone who is personally or professionally in a position to make remarks on the authentic representation of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PSTD). Therefore, my comments should be recognized as coming from someone who read through this book without personal or educational weight to back my impressions & opinions. With that being said, I found it absurdly shocking that Alice was treated with such a lack of empathy & support from everyone around her. What I find most complicated with this book & subsequently with this review, is that Bishop’s characters are in the midst of dealing with/living through horrible situations all of which are ignored to reinforce the belief that they simply need to step outside of their comfort zones. Alice saw her friend killed by a drunk driver, no one is arguing that this would not cause a significant level of distress & turmoil in her life. However, her mother simply nods off to the fact that her child most certainly requires therapy because Alice said she didn’t want to go. I can appreciate that both Clara & Alice deal with some level of generalized anxiety & they are demonstrated to be incredibly negatively influential on each other. Neither is allowed to grow or roam; neither is able to become the best version of themselves because they are absolutely held back by their fears & worry. Unfortunately, I lack sympathy for situations such as this & I acknowledge that wholeheartedly. I will be the first to say that it is often very difficult to be completely neutral in a critique due to being a person who is alive & present in this world; my experiences are carried with me in all aspects of my life. Having to read chapters on end wherein Clara consciously chooses to hold Alice back from healing from the horror that she experienced because of her own anxieties drove me up a wall. I have an insatiably difficult time forgiving parents who pour all their difficulties onto the shoulders of their children. I could not fathom how often I had to see Clara distinctly choose to ignore every piece of advice she was ever given about being a parent, turning around & deciding to induce her child into levels of mental paralysis wherein she was unable to go outside for fear of terrible things happening to her. This is inexcusable behaviour. What is truly difficult for me to grasp with regard to Clara was her purpose within the narrative. Did we need to have two people who were absolutely riddled with mental health issues & who both decided to pursue life untreated for things that they did not have to endure? Had Clara been cut from this book nothing else within the story would have been different, she brought nothing but negativity to Alice & the story as a whole. I did not care to read about someone harming their child’s mental state because she was too stupid to choose to be a better parent. It does not take a rocket scientist to know that you cannot protect someone from everything; every single parent on this planet knows that to be true, that is simply par for the course. Yet during every single one of Clara’s points of view, we have to read about her knowing that what she is doing is harming her child & see her deliberately decide to do so anyway. Am I supposed to feel sympathy for a person causing harm to their child? It is not lost on me that the reason for Clara’s dialogue & presence within the book was to highlight the stages of life. I can appreciate that what Clara went through in terms of losing her job & having to, yet again, start over, was something that many people have experienced. Yet, once again, Bishop does a disservice in simply skimming over this facet. Did Clara enjoy publishing? Would she consider moving to London to attempt to work in the field again or was she done with that work completely? I didn’t know anything about Clara. I didn’t know anything about any of the characters. There was no depth to anyone who presented their personal point of view within the chapters of this book, nor was there depth to any of the secondary or tertiary characters. Every single person in this book was a caricature of what they could be. I could not highlight any single character as being something of a person you might find in your real life. Had Bishop sought to place more detail & depth within the build of her characters we would have seen the line she attempted to sew throughout the generations, strengthen into the bridge that is built to aid people facing similar issues throughout the ages. The redundancy within the dialogue absolutely obliterated the beauty of what could have been presented within this subject matter. No one character provided any insight into who they were nor did their inner thoughts glean any details about anything other than the minute moment we were privy to. Alice is 18 years old & all we read about is her detrimental levels of anxiety. She has a job at a coffee shop, she walks Ernie & has been writing journals for years—is there nothing else going on in her head other than thinking she’s going to be faced with her demise? Does she watch TV? Does she read books? Who is Alice? This poor girl witnessed her friend be killed & is then placed in a chokehold by her parent because said person is unable to grasp the fact that you cannot protect people from others, ever so much as you might love them, we cannot control what is, literally, out of our hands. Alice never even gets the chance to be an individual person. She feels dread & despair towards herself because she was not like other girls her age—those who wanted to go party—-yet we never see this aspect explored with more depth. Alice could have been confronted with the fact that just because she wasn’t hanging around with the ‘right’ group of people—those who share her interests & passions—does not mean that there is something inherently wrong with her. We peruse the entire novel with her feelings of hatred towards herself & the only lesson she is given is to ‘live a little’. What does that even mean? Alice enjoyed talking about books & she enjoyed a cozy time at home; there is nothing wrong with this. Both adults in her life, Clara & Florence, go out of their way to never ask Alice anything of substance. Florence took it upon herself to bring Alice to an Art School without ever asking her if this is what she might like to pursue. Why would you assume that the pass-time you saw someone do for two seconds would be what they should pursue educationally? What if Alice’s love for books & subsequent diary writing meant she loved to write? Why is no one talking to this person? It was astounding how we made our way through an entire novel in which Lilli went about doing things that brought her pleasure, even if it meant going against the grain; Ella went out & enjoyed all the aspects of her youth that she loved; only to have Alice’s deteriorating mental state be ignored by the people who boast caring for her, yet never truly give her the time of day. Is the message not that one needs to take advantage of life, whatever that might mean for every person individually? Alice goes so far as to say that people often assume what might be best for her & she doesn’t feel inclined to be overtly extroverted, yet we ignore that so that Florence can feel happy that she ‘tried’ by asking Alice to go parasailing….It’s insulting. Had this book been shorter I think that the method which Bishop adopted talking about the subject matter & the ways in which she introduced the characters would have been more interesting & suspenseful. I am not a fan of hinting at some mysterious aspect of the story only to have to wait until the final chapters for said aspect to be described in adequate detail. I lost any level of empathy I might have had for any of the characters having to read a riddle of the same intonations over & over again; the repetition drew tiring. For example, when Florence finally gets to sit with Lilli to tell her why she wasn’t able to meet with her that night I was waiting for something incredible to be revealed—we already knew she believed she killed Harry. After everything we read, the revelations that were hinted at on a loop truly diluted the essence of the plot. Having such a story be over 400 pages was tiresome—boring if you are so inclined, as am I, to describe a story that went nowhere & boasted about being true to yourself while also pushing yourself to be extroverted like that one person you met for all of 5 mins of your lifespan. This was not a book meant for me & I am aware of that while writing this review. I found some of the plot interesting & wanted to get to the point of the story with more swiftness than Bishop desired. I would have longed for the characters to not ignore mental distress to please that part of them that sought to live on the wild side. Lest we forget that being extremely outgoing & adventurous is not a trait that everyone posses nor should they feel inclined to adopt it; we should seek to enhance ourselves for who we are. I could not see how Florence & Alice based all of their decisions on a friendship that lasted such a short period of time. Can I appreciate that people leave a great impact on our lives even if we know them for short periods of time? Certainly. However, I wished for better for everyone in this book. I would have truly found this story enjoyable had Bishop put forth the desire to see her characters become fully developed individuals & I would have loved this story if the moral had been thought out. So much of real life is ignored for the purpose of raising outlier characters as being in the ‘right’. For Florence to walk away from a life of financial stability because she did not want to marry Peter is not an easy decision to make & Lilli doesn’t seem to understand that the consequence of going against the grain can be deadly for people, as they still remain today. It would have been nice for one person in this book to have had a foot in reality; for them to include the sad truth of what they wanted to pursue. It is no simple feat to try & set out a life for yourself that is different from the one you have been set forth to live, especially if there are multiple people controlling the narrative. One need only look at Alice to understand that to be true. Thank you to NetGalley, Simon & Schuster Canada & Caroline Bishop for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review! ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
May 16, 2022
|
May 16, 2022
|
Kindle Edition
| |||||||||||||
50
| 
| 1939905222
| B01FZSCUKO
| 3.91
| 28,549
| Jun 30, 2016
| Jun 30, 2016
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on terminal illness, grief, substance abuse, death of a child, animal cruelty, suicide, & others. I have finished reading a book I cannot wrap my mind around. I could not picture the methuselah of Der Fischer nor could I begin to imagine a beast as colossal as the Leviathan. Yet, in all this what I couldn’t wrap my mind around, to the extent it drew me out of the story, was the point. Why would a man seek out a creature of biblical standing with the purpose of taking control of its powers? What powers does the Leviathan have? Granted, I read this book while sick in bed so, there is a chance that the obvious was clearly stated & I was too congested to breathe in its fumes. Regardless, I found myself reading this book & truly adoring the writing style but not being able to grasp the purpose behind any of the actions undertaken & therefore, I must ask myself why. Abraham (“Abe”) Samuelson recounts the events that took place over a decade prior to his most recent encounter with the Vertebrata incarnation of a friend he saw eaten alive. Though this book is under 300 pages I was shocked to find myself reading it as though it were a bulking epic that transcended the median length. Truthfully, I do not even know where to begin. I suppose Part 1 is as good a place as any. In the beginning, this book drew my interest & adoration immediately. Langan’s writing felt ideal for transmitting the personality of the narrator, Abe, as he sat on his lonesome to tell us a cautionary tale. There was no moment that I felt conflicted about my appreciation of the writing style nor did I question who our main character was as an individual entity and a thriving member of his society. Abe speaks to the reader in a written format that is similar to dialects adopted through speech. I acknowledge that this style is very often difficult to master without the writing appearing choppy & slanted, given the frequency at which people switch topics & tones whilst speaking. However, Abe’s writing was earnest & calming. He wrote to the reader as a friend & it was easy to trust him. I suppose this can be the attributing factor for which I found myself immediately enthralled in this book. I trusted the words of the writer; Abe wasn’t obstructive or imposing, he wasn’t a daunting figure I needed to understand. He was simply a man who wanted to share his experiences in the only way he knew how. There is something to be said for the calm brought on by encountering a main character who is so settled in themselves; both honest & tender towards their own actions & feelings; it is charming. Throughout all of this, I felt an emotional pull toward his person as I wanted to see him vindicated however, this feeling did not last. When Abe begins fishing with Dan, a co-worker at IBM, they exchange very few words. Both men have experienced tremendous loss & are working through the grieving stages differently. There is something to be said about the way that Langan wrote about grief. It was eminently present while I felt it to be simultaneously out of my reach. The experiences of the characters were close enough for me to comprehend as being their lived realities without being able to grasp them as my own feelings. Rather than feel that Langan held back on his descriptions & depth, I believe this to be a most powerful way of writing about such a behemoth of emotions. For truly who can reach you when you are down. Grief is something many of us might have encountered in one form or another & yet it remains difficult to link together planks of wood to cross the bridge of sorrow that buoys us between monstrous white water waves. By writing about Dan & Abe’s experiences in such a way as to allow the reader to feel aware while not privy to their inner thoughts & emotions, Langan kept the divide just enough out of reach for their grief to be tangible & authentic. While working to keep the reader distanced from the characters, Langan also kept the characters from truly connecting to each other. Out of all the moments Abe spent with Dan the final moments they shared together is the one that has the most impact on their friendship. While Part 1 delves into setting the scene & encouraging the reader to trust Abe & the setting that is being presented. Part 2 incorporates lesions of lore & dread into the story, both of which, I am sorry to say, left me feeling confused. I attribute these feelings to my ongoing sickness which is very much at the forefront of my mind as not a moment goes by without being reminded of the blockage in my sinus & the raw experience of unawareness in my throat; however, so much of what transpired in the second part of this book felt that it would have been more worthy of a reader who understood some of the historical significance the author was attempting to incorporate. I have not studied the Bible nor much of the religions that circulate such texts. I cannot draw to mind the engineering blueprints that would be required to build a Reservoir, nor could I understand what it would be like to see a dead person walking around town in the same body they were trampled to death in. All of which severely disjointed my appreciation of the narrative. I continued to feel that had I held a further understanding of the significance of the Leviathan, I might have appreciated & understood why Der Fischer went out of his way to spend centuries trying to capture it. Yet, for all the wonderful prose that Langan does include, my sick-ridden logical brain could not comprehend how a man could fish a biblical beast. Certainly, the realm of magic that circulated this character impacted his earthly abilities but, therein again I found myself at a loss to fully grasp the weight of what was being presented to me. Did everyone know that magic existed? How does one casually come upon a society of magicians? Would not anyone prior to Rainer think to want to stop Der Fischer? What was the purpose of being a guest within Cornelius Dort’s house? How did he come to know that he could count on Cornelius to use his house? We come to know that the Dort residence is the connected area where the setting ‘behind the mask’ might be accessed from ‘reality’ however no information is given to the reader for us to discern how this knowledge came about. Cornelius was an angry, abusive, bully of a man. The little we come to know about him is not enough to garner reasonable deductions as to why he would have welcomed this stranger into his home & why he would have been so blatantly opposed to the Reservoir. What is the connection? Given that when the Reservoir is built, the link between the two worlds seems to flow freely—freer than it did prior—so if Cornelius is in cahoots with Der Fischer, why would he oppose something that would ease the transition that Der Fischer was trying to obtain? You may garner that Part 2 left me with ample questions & you would be correct. I could not find it in myself to understand how an entire town of people would be fine with seeing a zombie walking in their midst, attacking people & causing them to commit violent acts against others & themselves. What part of their society had them so certain that this was a probability? Helen returns from the dead yet no one is shocked, they all wander around talking amongst themselves that there is a dead woman walking among them & that is the end of that. How does that make sense? I felt that there was a significant part of this entry that I was missing. Why would Rainer be blamed for Wilhelm’s death when it was Wilhelm who chose to ignore protocol? Why would the society not see that Wilhelm was self-serving? Why would this event influence his career in any way given that the society was secret? How would the University have come to know that Rainer was being accused of an accessory murder, for someone who died of no apparent physical wounds—not counting the grey creases that formed on his skin. What did the white light on Rainer’s face signify? Though the scenes wherein Reiner confronts Der Fischer is intended to cause fear & worry, they were lost on me due to the simplicity with which everything transpired. Of course, this book would go nowhere if Lottie had not survived to tell Reverend Maple the story of her Father & the men that trapped Der Fischer. However, these men confronted an alleged wizard of decades who had been fishing a literal Goliath of a beast, on his own, how did they think they stood any chance at succeeding in their quest? What did Rainer find in the books that gave him enough stamina to confront a person who was a senior in the field? How did the capturing of souls help Der Fischer in capturing the Leviathan? What happened to those who made deals with him to see their departed family members? What are the logistics of making a deal with such a man? I found myself with little to no tangible understanding of what was going on & as someone who necessitates at least a bit of information to be able to participate in the make-believe world, I was disappointed about how little was given to the reader in this case. I will say that I appreciated how the author introduced recounting an old story through another & a friend of a friend, this style worked really well in this context. Langan did not dwell on anything for a particularly long period of time, which I appreciated, yet this also resulted in my finishing Part 2 wondering why any of what transpired wasn’t questioned, was happening & what impact it had on the world at large, who did not believe or know about these events. In the final part of this book, I found myself glad that I was nearing the end. The writing was the sole aspect of this story to leave an impression on me & now, upon trying to find the energy to write a review, I struggle to highlight anything in particular that rendered this story incredible. I appreciated the vivid descriptions & haunting portrayals of grief. It was terribly sad to see Dan be consumed by the beasts that portrayed themselves as members of his family to entrap him in the magician’s world. I appreciated the connection that Langan drew between all the events. Yet, just as Abe asked himself what the point was of the story that Howard told him, so too do I ask myself this same question toward Langan’s book. At first glance, it is obvious to say that the parallels between grief & extreme physical exertions performed by ghouls are the tangible purpose of this story. If one removed all the goblin-like figures one would still have a Horror, albeit one that plagues the reader with the emphasis on its subjects’ experience in reality. Unfortunately, the lore left much to be desired. I do not particularly mind an ambiguous ending or even being privy to events that leave me with questions. However, the extent to which I was left with little information & then thrust into a new set of action sequences left me with little desire to want to understand. When all is said & done, I enjoyed this book. It was absurd & bizarre & in so many ways, transcribed as a perfectly sensible series of events. Could I understand why Abe would have sex with someone he knew died years ago? No. I was not surprised when Marie’s apparition was in fact an amphibian of some horrific sort. The logistics of procreating with this being leave me with further questions about the biological probabilities of this but, I will set those aside. Suffice it to say I was blown away that Abe would fornicate with his dead wife while she had fish eyes. If you are looking to read a puzzling story about magicians & lore, this is as good a book as any. I feel inclined to believe that I might revisit this at a future date when I am in good health so that I might compare my analysis of the work with clear sinuses, a bushy tail, & bright eyes & clearness of thought to link the painting in the diner to the one that saw the artist commit suicide, so haunting was the subject matter. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Jun 23, 2022
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Apr 18, 2022
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Kindle Edition
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48
| 
| B00LRXCFCU
| 4.26
| 16,187
| Sep 04, 2014
| Feb 03, 2015
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really liked it
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**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on abuse, child endangerment, Hebephilia, Pedophilia, death of a child, sexual abuse of minors, physical abuse of minors, psychological distress, mental illness, religious extremism, terminal illness, the suicide of a minor, & others. Alongside the content warning, I would like to highlight that if you are someone for whom reading repeated instances where both graphic descriptions & dedicated insinuations are given regarding the abuse of minors, is overwhelming, triggering, debilitating, or other; this is a book I would encourage you to put aside. The subject matters approached in this book deal entirely with the actions taken by sexual predators as well as those undertaken by others systemically protecting these actions. There is very little of this story that does not impart mental reflection on the realities these minors were forcibly subjected to throughout a great many years. Therefore, please be kind to yourself & do not pursue this book or my review if you are not in a position to be faced with this matter. Odran Yates is a priest in the Catholic Church in Ireland. He narrates a series of events over the course of multiple years in his life which have shaped him to be the man lying face-down on the earth, wondering if things could have been different, had he only been someone else. He is surrounded by people bold enough to put thought into action regardless if these choices are good or bad. The reader meets Odran in a compromising position, one that leaves our roaming eyes with that same reflection; had Odran been anyone else, had the circumstances been anything other than what they are, one might be left with feelings of pity for the poor soul who was meant to drown in the waves that fateful summer day. Yet, I cannot feel anything but anger towards Odran. This is a book that has left me feeling cheated. I feel annoyed at myself for wanting the main character to be a good person, for his actions to have carried through & formed a unified front with his inner monologue. However, time after time, Odran proved to me that he was incapable of being honest, of seeking out the protagonist in himself, the one he diligently wanted me to believe he was. Instead, he was the best friend of a repeated & prolific child predator; a man who wanted to sit in the graces of this child abuser because he couldn’t face himself in a mirror to come to terms with the reality of his position, one of a lonely whimpering, rain-drenched leaf at the bottom of a mildew rotten sunken ship, shot down for the war crimes it sought to inflict. Why do I feel so much annoyance? This is not a question without an answer for I know myself distinctly; understanding that in books I wish to see the change we have avoided in reality. How dare Odran walk back into Aidan’s life after he deliberately allowed someone he knew to be a child sexual predator to roam the boy's house at night? How dare he lie to the face of his own nephew who had to deal with the physical & psychological repercussions of such levels of abuse, only to admit to himself due to the words spoken to him by the perpetrator, that he is also the villain in this story. How dare he. Yet, how like reality this fictional work is, indeed. So riddled with nuisance as to whom we are meant to trust, whom we are to want to see succeed. I can say confidently that I feel no shame in admitting that they should all burn for such unforgivable things, as those that the children have had to endure at the hands of barbarically inept human beings as the adults in this scenario. Why should I feel conflicted about my sentiments towards Odran? He is, after all, the root cause of the abuse his nephew suffered. I should feel more care to see a four-leaf-clover fly away in the wind than to watch him punished in my field of vision for what he deliberately allowed to happen. However, that is not what this story is asking of the reader. It is easy to point the finger, that is all that happens throughout this story. When it mattered to speak out, everyone whispered. When it mattered to listen, the ears of the deaf were more attentive. How can this be? However difficult it is to admit, everyone is part of the problem while many are simultaneously a victim of the system. If one is to take Odran’s experiences as a primary example one might wonder when this character was ever meant to revolt against everything he had known. This is a character who had the deaths of his brother & father diminished to darkness in his memory for the level of traumatic upheaval they caused his psyche. However, they nibbled at him still for how could he completely forget what had happened when he was living in the imposed constraints such a tragedy caused his family, within the actions of his religious extremist mother who threw him at the first religious figure she saw because her son was evoking ‘normal’ teenage emotions. This is not to say that I do not believe that Dissociative Amnesia played a part in Odran’s life, I very much believe that to be the case. However, he was constantly reminded of things he wished to forget — so to say — by the behaviour of his mother. Yet, can we blame her? There was a time when people wanted to trust that religious figures were honest, truthful, & kind people. This is not something we can say is innately wrong for, haven’t we all, at least once, sought in wish or desire, to trust someone? Certainly, we cannot look upon the centuries of religious abuse of power as indicative that these figures of supposed God’s voice, were in fact playthings for the Devil himself, can we? This is a difficult question to answer, just as there may be one rotten apple in a tree, one needs to examine the trunk to determine whether or not the entity is rotten to the core. So too have religions throughout all of humankind been privy to both honest & dishonest, kind & unkind, people. The Catholic Church was meant to protect its believers, it was meant to give them a reason for being; guiding them with chorus & community into the welcoming hands of their Lord. Yet, these same figureheads found themselves riddled to the brim with child predators. Why is that? Again, we find ourselves with an impossibly difficult question to answer. One may say that the victims of abuse at the hands of religious figures were suppressed because it seems impossible that a person who proclaimed themselves vocationally inclined in the field, was at once a man of God & a man who abused children. Therefore, one may note that perhaps this was a field of work wherein such barbaric peoples felt comfortable; felt that they could hide in plain sight for who would ever question a person who said to hear the word of God from the Man himself? However, one might also note that for those same reasons, the Catholic Church has highlighted itself as being the epicentre for child sexual abuse because people cannot believe that this would be the place, of all places, where a predator would feel safe to act on their impulses. By this I mean, we might regard the high number of cases brought to the forefront by those brave children, as being believed because it was impossible that a man of the cloth should be such a horrible person therefore, he should be evicted from the community. Is believing in the goodness at the core of religions bad? No. Is being part of a religion, a community of peers seeking to pray for salvation & grace, bad? No. However, hosting a community of repression & silence, fostering a feeding ground for people who prey on the vulnerability cultivated in wanting to believe in a higher power, is devilishly wrong. 95 Theses & I should think one of them wrung true to the core of the fact. With these questions, we are brought round to the essence of Odran’s story. Who is at fault for his negligence? It is at once his own fault for deciding that he did not have it within his person to face the facts; his esteemed lifelong friend was a sexual predator, & he was a bad man & Odran ignored this because he did not want to experience confrontation. This leads us to the fault that lies at the hands of those who raised Odran to be the way that he was. The people who thumped him into the ground until he was forever quiet, forever silenced. This is the priest who molested him, it is his father who experienced serious levels of anger & violence, & it is his own mother who willfully ignored the world around her for the security she sought in organized religion. Our species have been pondering the question of ‘nature versus nurture’ for centuries, if not longer. As with this story, we could be pointing fingers at others forever. What is troublesome is admitting to ourselves, as Odran had to do at the conclusion of this story, that one is responsible for one's own actions, to an extent at least. How easy would it have been for Odran to randomly break the mould he was fitted for upon his birth? How likely would it have been that he would seek to do this because he could not go on as he was? It is impossible to say because he never did either of these. The reader is faced with the difficult decision as to whether or not Odran should be believed & whether or not it is worth their time to trust that this character is remorseful for his neglect. With that, I will say that this made the reading experience extremely difficult for me. I remain steadfast in my sentiments against those who abuse children; a stance I shall never falter from holding. However, as Boyne wrote onward, I could not help but feel frustrated at his ease; crafting dimensional characters who would be remembered as that kindly, mousy friend, & who would be recalled as the person who unbelievably was the perpetrator of their own experiences on to others. These are the markers of a stellar writer & one who enamoured me in the narrative at once. I wanted to be led through the timeline, I felt intrigued & interested, I wanted to believe that Odran never knew a thing. Yet, just as Tom refused to speak his truth, choosing instead to repeat the offences done to him in his childhood, so too did Odran recycle the actions transferred to him & so, the finger-seeking blame needs to become ten or twenty. Specifically, when children are involved, it is difficult to say that it was in the hands of one person for aren’t we loath to forgive a parent we deem neglectful, a figure we simply couldn’t believe to be abusive, an adult we thought we knew. Every character in this book plays the villain; every person partakes in the final form that these people have become. What I found to be the most troublesome aspect of this book are the questions it has left me with. Boyne’s writing swept me into a world that was riddled with ghouls at every turn yet, I wanted to believe that there would be an archangel come to save the day. How can someone write about reality in such a way as to have me hoping against reason that, this time it will be different? I appreciated the stance the author took at introducing a character who was set apart yet, one who mutilated themselves in their own lies; a character one could be enticed to believe, trust, & hope for. Poor Odran with everyone offering him sandwiches when he wasn’t even hungry. Poor Odran whose father drowned his young brother in a murder-suicide. Poor Odran who finally made a friend only for this person to be a blatant mentally deranged ghoul. Poor Odran who is so like the other passengers on the train so as to melt into the fabric on the seat becoming who he was, no one man at all. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Jun 15, 2022
|
Apr 18, 2022
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Kindle Edition
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59
| 
| 0525557598
| 9780525557593
| 0525557598
| 4.01
| 22,898
| 2022
| May 24, 2022
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did not like it
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**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on mental health, suicidal ideation, promiscuity, & others. When a reader first encounters the character who will lead the way, jaunt them through a laneway of memories, new adventures, mystery, intellectual reflection, & prose, the reader is to have—ideally—met their match. This does not mean that the main character is one who poses a struggle; is something of a troll marooning the underpass of a desecrated & lonely bridge. More so, this is to mean that their match, like sticks set to light a flame against the backside of their box, are different & similar in all the ways that count towards encouraging the reader to pursue the tale of a thousand eves set forth by the main character. Selin is such a character as need never have been revisited upon a final parting word. Though my review for “The Idiot” (2017) was one that reflected a genial enjoyment, I retain my opinions; this was not a book that needed to be read & certainly not a book that many people would enjoy reading mostly because nothing much happened. I admit that I am not someone for whom SparkNotes-style stories bode well. I find this approach rather tedious as it leaves me feeling that the author in question hadn’t much gumption to write their own work & rather relies heavily on that which has already been written to slather hardened jam into the crevices of rye. Batuman has lost her way, or perhaps, she never had her sights set on a path to begin with. I cannot say for certain, I am not her. Nor am I the person who set out to write a sequel to a story that did not necessitate one, leaving me to feel that the author in question must have lost a sense of themselves & their path given the absolutely abhorrent second instalment in the dull & despairingly pretentious life of Selin. To begin, I want to delve further into my first critique which is that a story whose sole intent is to rehash the written word of others is, generally speaking, not a story worth reading. Certainly, most veteran readers have come upon a story that linked the characters' experiences or their surroundings to events that were beautifully explored within another work of fiction. In this vein, I can appreciate the draw to include references to the Classics & philosophies of thought that allow the story at play to run its course whilst leaving the reader with a taste of the sweetness that lies in other wonderful stories. What Batuman has failed to do, or perhaps has altogether neglected to attempt, is weaving references in the ways in which we are taught before beginning secondary school. There is a colossal difference between writing a double-digit number of pages, wherein these other books/stories are totally rehashed & being able to reference aspects of these works so that the character’s entity is reflected in a dimensionality surpassing fiction. I did not need to have every single book explained to me as though I were cramming for a test. I did not need a play-by-play of every single word ever written in these books & the background information to go along with them, to understand why Selin felt a connection. Instead of granting Selin the ability to weave her way through a new chapter of her life, Batuman has simply formatted a textbook-style informational booklet in which a great number of Classic works of literature are used in place of the plot of this very book. One is left asking oneself what the purpose was behind writing this book if the author had no idea how to craft a story in the first place. There is no point in formatting a story under the guise of it being a continuation of a series that saw its end with the very appropriate termination of the first novel. Did we need another 300+ pages to discern that Selin was at once horribly pretentious as to almost be cruel whilst simultaneously being a person who was safeguarded from every basic human experience up until the age at which she left for University? No, we did not. Nothing that is presented in this novel brings forth any new form of the information nor any series of events which lead the reader to feel any feelings of fondness or gratitude. I had first heard of “The Idiot” (2017) after coming across “Either/Or” (2022)—I was intrigued by the premise & the promise of an intellectually stimulating story. By this point in time, the first book had garnered something of a controversial reputation & I enthusiastically read the polarizing reviews from those who proclaimed a dying adoration & those who felt a dying pang whilst reading the story. Having been someone who has consumed books voraciously during the many moons of my life, I had nothing to lose but faith in the publishing world, by endeavouring to read both books. With so much of a reputation preceding “The Idiot” (2017) one might wonder why Batuman felt the need to come back to Selin all these years later. Certainly, nothing was left unsaid—no stone left to turn over for, Selin spent pages on end philosophizing about the many probabilities that she might encounter under & over, every rock. Therefore, I ask again—why was this book written? At a glance, one might wonder that Selin didn’t have more to say; having left her at the end of her friendship with Ivan, pondering whether or not what she felt for him was romantic, intimate, love. Yet, with all those reflections, questions, & possibilities, Selin returns to us as a shadow of a real person & unlike in the first instalment, she is a shadow because the person that she is, so lacks substance that she cannot but be a ghost child wandering the earth in search of some mandate to fulfill. It is not difficult to discern that I did not like Selin in this story. The girl who was once at an age that many of us have come upon & who was faced with the adult version of the person she never learnt to comprehend, became a brut barbarian in the form of a pretentious Harvard attendee. Given that there is very little of unique substance to this book—i.e. rather little in terms of un-cited, pre-existing literature—the bouts of conversation that take place are excruciating &, to be frank, boring as all hell. I honestly thought I might lose my mind if I had to listen to Selin wonder at Ivan’s decision to move along with his life when his friend (Selin) developed sentiments of love towards him due to her hyperactive imagination. So strange that an adult person might want to distance themselves from another adult person who couldn’t keep their sanity under wraps & persisted in creating an atmosphere of chaos in every interaction. (reads—sarcasm) Throughout the first book, I wanted to give Selin the benefit of the doubt. It can be confusing to maneuver relationships. Especially for people like Selin who have spent their entire lives over-analyzing everything while subsequently sheltered from life. Within this instalment, this conflict was cruelly apparent & rendered the story a difficult one to read. Did Selin ever think to wonder that, if indeed, Ivan was pursuing an intimate relationship with her, he did so whilst in a committed relationship with Eunice? Did Selin never wonder at the fact that he was already in an outwardly long-term romantic relationship? Why did we have to read about her back/forth regarding a friendship? After Zita explained to Selin what most of us could garner in the first book—that Ivan is culturally a free-flowing person & most Western people do not read into his behaviour as being respectful to his partner—Selin persists in committing to the idea that she was in love with Ivan & he was in love with her. It grew tiresome to have to go back & forth about what might or may, or would have, happened. All the while. I did not care. Ivan was living his life, the situation was explained at length & there is nothing more to say. Except, Batuman wanted to SparkNotes an entire series of books over & over again to really drive this point home. It made me feel conflicted to feel so strongly that this story was a waste of my time whilst also appreciating that there were points within the first half of this book that were worth exploring. The ties between Selin’s obtuse naivety & her preposterous pretension were fascinating. At once, we see how this character was who she is & had been that way all along; a person who is, kind of a banana-brained meany. Is it acceptable to postulate that people are too dumb to understand literature if read outside of a post-secondary institution? Is it acceptable to stand around with people who are pretty rotten human beings while they douse on those who don’t have the means of pursuing a prestigious post-secondary education? No, it’s not. Yet, Selin seeks out these types of people, she longs to be close to them because they reflect her essence in extroverted ways. At once we read about the casualty of her mentioning spending summers in Turkey & yet read about her pinching pennies to buy a winter coat. I am born & raised in one of the colder parts of Canada, I know how expensive winter coats are. The point I’m trying to make is that the disparity between what we are told—i.e. that Selin lives in financial insecurity—& the truth—that her mother & father are well-off & can afford a multitude of luxuries for themselves & their children—so starkly contrasts that one gets lost in the middle. There were too many instances when Selin appears to be too naïve, that it is almost improbable that she would have so little awareness of the aspects that surround her. To have this story veer into sexual promiscuity & scenes on end describing the insertion of genitals & the movements that might take place throughout intercourse was ridiculous. Selin is a free-moving adult in the late 90s in what world is she pondering—after describing sex scenes in movies—what constitutes ‘having sex’? What part of this fits into the textbook-style approach of the philosophical thoughts of the first 60% of the story? Had this section been slimmed down to a scene or two, the premise might not have felt so dreary & underwhelming. After listening to Selin drone about how much she loved Ivan then acknowledge that she might just love men who don’t have any interest in her, as the scene with ‘The Count’, was boring. This premise was repeated until it annihilated the positive attributes held within the story's first half. I cannot think of the reason for including such a tremendous level of smut if not to satiate some demand. From whom, I cannot begin to know. When all is said & done, this second book ruined any fond feelings I might have held toward Selin. She was daft in a way that was uncomplimentary to her person—a person who was studious, thoughtful, curious, diligent, & intrigued by the aspects of life she had yet to know firsthand. She became a bully, someone resting on the premises of their titles; an entity snuggled into the classifiers she deigned worthy. What happened to the girl who loved to learn? Where did the girl who enjoyed running & roaming disappear to? I am glad to see mental health approached within this book because I feel that there was much to study & yet I realize that what was said was minimal & quite inadequate. Selin lives to defend her mother, to keep her safe, & to follow her every word. Selin does not live for herself. In the same way that she was becoming her own person, she decided that whom she had become under the guidance of her mother’s watchful eye was enough & so she sought other people who were dedicated to their own causes & she moved forward with their message. I wanted to see Selin grow to be the person I believed she could be. I had a glimmer of hope that she knew she was capable of that too. Unfortunately, as in real life, we can seldom shape the path of the person who walks ahead of us, especially if we are the ghosts in the tree trunks & flowers lining the stones. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Oct 13, 2022
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Apr 11, 2022
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Hardcover
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53
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| B01HNJIJ3U
| 3.67
| 84,141
| Mar 14, 2017
| Mar 14, 2017
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really liked it
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**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on disordered eating, distorted body image, poverty, financial insecurity, & others. Selin is a girl who is actually not like other girls. This is because she isn’t herself; a person she hasn’t come to know, doesn’t quite understand, & fails to connect with. In all her years growing into the person we meet on the pages, Selin wandered through the roles she adopted by surrogate need, rather than fulfill the centre of her desires & the ultimately sought-after purpose in human existence: to be oneself. Batuman’s novel guides the reader into a story that is slow, stilted, uncomfortably bland, & often times ridiculous. However much all these things are true, her story is also one that is enticing, curious, honest, & enthralling. Selin is a character that we know well yet, this is what leaves the reader with sadness for the desire to see this girl be more than she is; the result in a gaping hole of desire left unfulfilled. It is always a toss, choosing to read a book that has been highly popularized. One may be left reeling with regret & perhaps even anger, at all the reviewers who stated that the book was worth their time. On the flip side, one might find themselves as I do, confused. I certainly appreciate those reviewers who stated—with gusto—that this book was horrific & a waste of time. Yet, I find myself longing to read it again. After the day that has passed since I finished this book I am still conflicted as to what particular aspect of this story was what reeled me in; left me comforted in the banal universe of the main character & her discussions of strawberry plants. What part of the writing was smart, stunning, & inspiring? Should I be asked, I cannot say with any level of confidence that I would recommend this book to anyone I know. If I were to take the time to imagine a reader who would take a thrill from reading this book, I cannot call one to mind. Who is this book for? Evidently, in this case, the ideal reader is me. I will not lie to you & say that there were not multiple instances throughout this book that left me laughing for wondering at the ridiculousness of the dialogue. I often paused to marvel that Batuman endeavoured to write such a story to leave one feeling that nothing much, if anything, happened at all. All the while so much was transpiring & I suppose that is so similar to the realities we inhabit as to make readers uncomfortable with the confrontation of the monotone existence we lead on this big round ball. Do not mistake me, we can encounter any number of fantastic events, opportunities, feelings, relationships, etc. Selin is at an age where she is meant to know who she is—everyone around her knows who they are & are very vocal in their pursuits of things that will fill their being with the desires that they need met. It appears to Selin that she is simply a shadow, a secondary member of the main cast who acts as a transitional conversationalist for them during their downtime. It certainly does not help that the society in which Selin grew up has changed to include virtual reality. The introduction of the internet in such a grandiose way has opened the door for computerized mail, e-mail. She now has to balance being present in real terms while maintaining the activities she participates in virtually. Admittedly, it is difficult for me to know where to begin this review because my mind is still reflecting on the story itself. I suppose that this is part of what I enjoyed so much; the sheer banality of presenting a story in something of a linear fashion that leads one to slowly piece together what was there all along. Before moving forward, I would like to touch on something that I have seen many people’s critiques include; the lack of a plot. Though I can appreciate that the format of this story & the way in which it was written leave a person feeling overwhelmed with stagnation, there is in fact a plot to this book. By definition, a plot is usually categorized by the interruption of a sequence, a pattern. This may be reflected in the altering of what was taking place even if by a small moment within the story, such as the moment in time that Selin stepped foot into her Russian language course. I respect that people might interpret this book in different ways & this also includes interpreting the key points of the forward movement of the plot differently as well. In my humble opinion, not being the person who wrote this book but simply someone who read it, this key moment takes place when Selin meets Ivan. He is just the back of a head & then he becomes someone that Selin longs to know in a fashion that is uncharacteristic of herself. When the book introduces Ivan’s character this begins the series of events that transform the book from a simple tenure at the university where Selin will learn to be scholarly, to the story that reveals the nuance in learning the semantics of conversation & being able to truly understand another person. The question that this story poses is not one that necessitates rhetoric so much as one that seeks to leave the reader with the desire to reflect on their own abilities, & their own habits for communicating & therefore highlighting how varied our interpretation of both Selin & Ivan can be. At face value, Ivan appears to be a highly intelligent person who struggles to vocalize his inner thoughts to a person who does not view the world as he does. The fact that he studies mathematics & Selin studies linguistics is not lost on me, nor should it be lost on any reader. The difference & struggle to view a single rose in a similar way as the person sitting right beside you, at the same moment in time, can be as vast & difficult as trying to interpret a rose with a person born ten thousand years in the past. Our means of communicating, connecting, forging bonds, & finding common ground are overestimated as being simple feats. Within the relationship that forms between Ivan & Selin one notes that Selin always appears to be heartbroken over some form of behaviour that Ivan has showcased. One can love one’s friends—this is preferable as one should be encouraged to spend time with what one loves. Yet, love in & of itself varies per person, per relationship; the language one uses to show love, etc. How can Selin feel heartbroken when Ivan has simply been acting as he is around people he loves, as shown when he is with his family in Hungary? Why does it take Selin an entire novel to realize that the person she thinks she loves isn’t someone she knows at all? What part of Ivan made Selin fall in love, if not the aspect of him that she could not understand? I spent a great deal of the story teetering between feeling that Selin was a great nuisance & that she was simply a young person trying to find their way in the world. I wished she had been stronger, had a more forceful will, had taken the opportunity to speak her truth. I know that that is not who she is when we meet her & I had to learn to be okay with the fact that Selin is not a full person, just yet. Her relationship with Ivan did highlight how easy it is to think a person the villain simply because they differ so staggeringly from another. For example, one may argue that Ivan is being unfaithful to Eunice, his long-term girlfriend because he spends time with Selin doing random activities that could be done with his partner. However, for many people, & in many cultures, friendships are just as important as intimate relationships & there is nothing inherently wrong with spending time with friends, of any gender or sexe. Perhaps because Ivan struggles to be earnest & act in ways that allow him to be forward without coming across as dry, do we feel that Eunice is being taken for a ride? However, Eunice is at once described as being stuck in her own cycle of comfort; studiously working through languages within the university structure in an attempt to stay where she is, challenged by the ever-developing world of language. Does this mean we should view her as the victim? Does this mean she is in need of saving from Ivan? I do not think so. As much as I was frustrated at times, reading about Selin loving Ivan for things he never meant to encourage in her, I could also understand that there is too much discrepancy between what we think we know & what we actually understand. It’s almost ironic how the study of linguistics & languages plays such a hefty role within this story all the while Selin is simply unable to engage in simple dialogue to power forward its potential to her benefit. In her email exchanges with Ivan, we see her writing in a way that mirrors the simplicity of the ‘Nina in Siberia’ series that she was studying for her Russian language course. I would not say that she covets any particular point so much as it appears that she attempts to toss words into a salad in an attempt to make them something palatable for both herself & the reader. On a parting note, I will advise that this book is riddled with spoilers of older Classic pieces. There is a part of me that is always a bit disappointed when this happens for it leaves me feeling that time was wasted rehashing someone else’s story instead of moving one’s own forward but, that is a personal inclination. As well, there were some moments of inconsistency within the story that left me pondering. For example, Eunice meets Ivan & Selin before they go swimming at Walden Pond. Ivan tells her that they are going swimming but then we read about her having a blow-up later because she didn’t know where he was. Another example of this takes place when Selin is writing a school paper; Ralph calls her & asks to spend time with her after she has finished writing some extra pages. However, Selin is out the door in the next breath to go clubbing with a friend. What happened to Ralph? What did his friendship mean to Selin & why was it so easy for her to look past all the things they did together? Are we meant to read into their friendship as being the antithesis to the one Selin has with Ivan? I missed seeing him come across the page, he brought something gentle to the story & I appreciated his presence. In all, I found this story to be at once entertaining & mind-numbing. I wanted to read & read, then read some more, but I was constantly confounded by the banality of the dialogue, primarily when pertaining to those who thought themselves speaking so insightfully. Perhaps, every missed connection reveals something about the individual at play. Perhaps we can acknowledge that variety enhances the lived experience; drawing a picture in flamboyancy & grace, weaving streaks of every shade of the river. Perhaps, there is more to language than the sounds, the word; the mere mention of something different than our own roll of the tongue. Perhaps, communication is in all the ways we tend, caress, blink, stifle, glance, embrace, hum, & smirk; when we are close or very far away. ...more |
Notes are private!
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1
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not set
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Jul 29, 2022
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Apr 10, 2022
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Kindle Edition
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|
|
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my rating |
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|
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|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
73
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| 3.79
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not set
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May 20, 2024
|
||||||
72
|
| 3.89
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not set
|
Feb 04, 2024
|
||||||
71
|
| 3.90
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liked it
|
Jan 04, 2024
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Jan 04, 2024
|
|||||
70
|
| 3.95
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it was ok
|
Nov 14, 2023
|
Nov 14, 2023
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|||||
69
|
| 3.94
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liked it
|
May 24, 2023
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Jul 05, 2023
|
|||||
68
|
| 4.08
|
really liked it
|
Jun 24, 2023
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Jul 04, 2023
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|||||
56
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| 4.14
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liked it
|
Jul 25, 2021
not set
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Jun 20, 2023
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|||||
67
|
| 3.82
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liked it
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Apr 16, 2023
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Apr 16, 2023
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|||||
66
|
| 4.07
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it was ok
|
Apr 09, 2023
|
Apr 09, 2023
|
|||||
65
|
| 4.06
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really liked it
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Apr 02, 2023
|
Apr 02, 2023
|
|||||
63
|
| 3.95
|
it was amazing
|
Jan 05, 2023
|
Dec 31, 2022
|
|||||
57
|
| 4.16
|
really liked it
|
Sep 15, 2022
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Sep 18, 2022
|
|||||
52
|
| 3.71
|
did not like it
|
Jul 25, 2022
|
Jul 24, 2022
|
|||||
54
|
| 4.26
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it was ok
|
Aug 12, 2022
|
Jun 08, 2022
|
|||||
46
|
| 3.42
|
it was amazing
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May 16, 2022
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May 17, 2022
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|||||
45
|
| 3.83
|
it was ok
|
May 16, 2022
|
May 16, 2022
|
|||||
50
|
| 3.91
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liked it
|
Jun 23, 2022
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Apr 18, 2022
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|||||
48
|
| 4.26
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really liked it
|
Jun 15, 2022
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Apr 18, 2022
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|||||
59
|
| 4.01
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did not like it
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Oct 13, 2022
|
Apr 11, 2022
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|||||
53
|
| 3.67
|
really liked it
|
Jul 29, 2022
|
Apr 10, 2022
|
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