I'm not going to rate this because I'm honestly not sure what rating I'd give. This has been on my Goodreads TBR since 2012 and I wanted to finally chI'm not going to rate this because I'm honestly not sure what rating I'd give. This has been on my Goodreads TBR since 2012 and I wanted to finally check it off, but I think I knew deep down that my general dislike for "postmodernist" novels would continue with this book.
This is a clever book, I guess, and it does something experimental and different. But I was left thinking "so what?" when I finished the last page today. It is a concept piece; it does not really tell a story, or, at least, not a coherent one, and we are not encouraged to connect with the characters.
Each chapter is split into two-- the first part addressing "you", the reader, as you attempt to read If on a Winter's Night a Traveller, the second part an extract from a book that "you", the reader, are reading. Each extract is from a very different book, the stories and styles varying greatly. The reader, "you", tries to hunt down the rest of the stories he is reading, but each time he is led to yet another completely different story.
The best part was the first two chapters when I was not yet tired of the gimmick....more
I found this mostly boring, to be honest. The book zips from really dark subjects like rape and abuse to light somewhSorry, but I don't get the hype.
I found this mostly boring, to be honest. The book zips from really dark subjects like rape and abuse to light somewhat farcical subjects like teaching a dog English or Elizabeth becoming an amazing rower by studying physics (women can smart their way into being better than six foot athletic men at everything because saying they can't is sexist, yo)... and I struggled to find any of it compelling.
Elizabeth was difficult to warm to --not because of her abrasive personality-- because she felt like a mouthpiece for 21st Century feminist monologues. This is supposed to be the 1950s? I just didn't buy it. All her rants are straight out of a modern day Smash the Patriarchy podcast.
And it deserves a further eye roll for the fact that because she is all into science and logic and whatever, this means Elizabeth is also cold, robotic and devoid of emotion. Cos we all know you can't be a scientist AND have feelings. Maybe the author worried if she showed emotion we'd find her too womanly.
I don't know what else to say. The reviews called it "hilarious", which I did not think it was. And also "adorable" which... what? On page rape, death, abuse, suicide and sexism... super cute.
The book does sort of lighten up as it progresses, but it did not get any less boring....more
The first two thirds or so of this were such ridonkulous fun even though I called it pretty early (view spoiler)[A ghost is trying to send a message aThe first two thirds or so of this were such ridonkulous fun even though I called it pretty early (view spoiler)[A ghost is trying to send a message about her daughter; the Maxwells just moved to the neighbourhood with their young son who Mallory isn't allowed to go to the bathroom with and who asks questions about genitals. Come on. (hide spoiler)] Good old pageturning thrills. Then it crosses the line between fantastical fun and totally nuts.
The first part of this book is largely figuring out what genre you're reading-- is it a horror with ghosts? or is this a regular mystery trying to spook you? --best to go into it with an open mind and make peace with both possibilities.
Little kids making creepy artwork is a common trope because that shit is irresistible. Kids can be creepy anyway, but pair it with weird, dark drawings that may or may not depict a murder and hearing voices that may or may not be the ghost of the murdered... let's just say I needed to know how this would all resolve.
This is what the Maxwells' new babysitter Mallory is confronted with when she is employed to look after 5 year old Teddy. He has an imaginary friend called Anya who he talks to and loves to draw-- complete with long straggly hair and mouth open in a terrifying expression --but is Anya really imaginary? Or could she have something to do with Annie Bennett, the ghost said to haunt the guest cottage where Mallory is staying?
The artwork in this book really adds something to it, there's no doubt. The pictures are unsettling and some are eerily beautiful. To be honest, I think this is what separates the book from being like many others.
Now for the bad. Not all the character inconsistencies were adequately explained, in my opinion, and there were a couple times when I felt frustrated with Mallory. I quite liked aspects of her character-- I was interested in her past and sympathised with her struggles to combat her drug addiction, and her narrative voice was easy to read and compelling --but she does and says some things that were just kinda stupid. And during those scenes I was screaming at her to just open the bloody bedroom door!
Also, the whole plot relies on a pretty big coincidence. (view spoiler)[They just happen to live in a house where a woman called Annie went missing, had a secret daughter and was also an artist? (hide spoiler)]
But mostly it comes down to the final few chapters going completely off the rails. Somewhere between "Here's Johnny" and a slasher movie. This was when I started rolling my eyes and couldn't stop (I probably looked like I was possessed by my own demon).
Not sure why we needed the outdated commentary on boys and girls either. (view spoiler)[
It was really remarkable how a blue dress and slightly longer hair shifted my entire perception of you. Just a few subtle cues and my brain did the rest of the work, flipping all the switches. You used to be a boy. Now, you were a girl.
Clothes and hairstyles do not make you a boy or a girl. (hide spoiler)]
This got very sad towards the end, but I really enjoyed the first half. It's one of those depressed millennial comedy things that should[image] [image]
This got very sad towards the end, but I really enjoyed the first half. It's one of those depressed millennial comedy things that shouldn't work but does. Kinda like Fleabag if Fleabag were a male artist....more
Really dark and weird. Like Sabrina but with a much bigger cast of major characters. I liked it.
Acting Class follows ten people who join a (you guesseReally dark and weird. Like Sabrina but with a much bigger cast of major characters. I liked it.
Acting Class follows ten people who join a (you guessed it) acting class led by a strange but charismatic teacher who encourages them to explore their minds and push their boundaries. They all have their own reasons for joining-- escapism, desire for confidence, yearning for a break to the daily monotony-- and each will be changed in their own way.
It's odd, unsettling, occasionally funny and eventually starts to make you question what is real. Where is the line between acting and becoming what you're pretending to be? If your "act" really hurts someone, can it be just an act?
It's a really sharp, disturbing contemplation of that old concept of humans being players on the world's stage. The character drawings are very basic, androgynous, often showing little expression, which pairs well with the bold ideas about psychology, the power of suggestion and our desire to perform so we can be part of the group.
It's another one that's contemporary but feels like it should be dystopian. The characters float in their oft bare panels, lending a touch of surrealism to the narrative. There's something so eerie about Drnaso's work....more
Sabrina hits you in slow motion. It's a quiet, subdued story that is all the darker and more effective for it.
This is not a graphic story filled with Sabrina hits you in slow motion. It's a quiet, subdued story that is all the darker and more effective for it.
This is not a graphic story filled with action and thrills. The artwork is simple, understated, not especially eye-catching or beautiful, yet juxtaposed with powerful writing. As the story unwinds, detailing the everyday lives of these characters as they deal with family issues and grief, I felt increasingly unsettled.
There was a point in this book when I suddenly understood that this was not a dystopia. This is not a spoiler; the book never pretends to be one, but, at first, I had convinced myself it must be. This sparse, lonely, surely post-apocalyptic world where conspiracy theorists dominate the Internet and believe horrific murders and school shootings are a ploy fabricated by the government to push their agenda (or else, if they don't believe, they certainly want other vulnerable people to)... it's not our world, surely?
But, of course, it is.
Here, the story begins with the disappearance of Sabrina. We experience the aftermath of this disappearance-- her boyfriend's depression, the distortion of the truth and wild spread of lies online --through the eyes of an airman, an old friend of Serena's boyfriend.
We are shown how people are drawn into conspiracy theories, seduced by a need to find a reason for loss or hardship; a Big Bad Enemy to put blame on. It's terrifying how easy it is.
I felt so much simmering under the surface of this quiet tale. It's not dramatic, not in the way that word is usually used, but it's impact was intense. It's not fast-paced, yet I couldn't stop reading. I didn't cry, I didn't laugh, I didn't get angry as such... but I felt a little bit destroyed by it....more
I knew absolutely nothing about Canada's oil sands before reading this graphic memoir. Truth be told, I know very little about Canada in general and hI knew absolutely nothing about Canada's oil sands before reading this graphic memoir. Truth be told, I know very little about Canada in general and hadn't even heard of the oil sands. Beaton paints a very bleak picture.
Cut off from the rest of civilisation, oil sands workers are portrayed as an insular community, lonely, a misogynistic old boys' club, often depressed but unable to talk about mental health. Beaton creates a world apart from ours in which the loneliness drives many men to behaviours they wouldn't even consider in their "real lives". Harassment is considered normal; sexual assault all too common.
Beaton worked there two years in the freezing cold loneliness and it left the kind of scars that cannot be seen. Others were even less lucky-- killed in fatal accidents brushed under the carpet by the bosses. The artwork is all in shades of grey, which adds to the dreary effect.
The author touches a bit upon the environmental impact of the oil sands, but her focus is predominantly on the human impact of living in isolation and being expendable... all to make a decent wage. While I hadn't heard of this before, I doubt I'll be forgetting about it.
My only complaint is that the story jumps a lot without any kind of break or just, you know, a couple asterisks to indicate that we're moving onto a new scene. This is quite confusing at times and had me flipping back a page to check I wasn't losing it....more
I gave this as much of a chance as I could to change my mind, but I know at this point that Rosewater is not going to be my next Queenie or SDNF - 25%
I gave this as much of a chance as I could to change my mind, but I know at this point that Rosewater is not going to be my next Queenie or Such a Fun Age as the blurb promises.
It comes down to either subpar writing or subpar editing, hard to say which. Rosewater is awkwardly overwritten, each superfluous adjective making the sentences clunky and disrupting the flow. I think this slowly decreases as the novel progresses (at least, as far as I've read) but it is replaced by stiff unnatural dialogue and an overuse of slang.
Sounded like a gritty, interesting story but I can't get past the writing....more
I'd be very surprised if this doesn't end up being one of the most popular books of 2023. Dark, sad, moving and occasionally funny... it has all the hI'd be very surprised if this doesn't end up being one of the most popular books of 2023. Dark, sad, moving and occasionally funny... it has all the hallmarks of a bestseller.
I had my reservations about Strange Sally Diamond at first. Over the last few years, I've become increasingly aware of and exasperated by books where neurodivergence is not acknowledged-- instead there is a "quirky" character, used for comedic value, allowed to have social struggles without really confronting the spectre of mental health. The description had me worrying this could be another one.
But this is not that kind of book at all. Nugent engages fiercely with Sally's mental illness. In fact, understanding it, and the trauma it grew out of, is at the centre of this story.
Strange Sally Diamond is a much bigger scale story than it first appears. The story moves back and forth in time, between two perspectives, from Ireland to New Zealand and back again, painting a dark, horrific picture of abuse and trauma, testing our limits on how forgiving we can be of a victim when they themselves cross the line.
I really enjoyed Sally's perspective, cared for her, wanted to discover her past and found humour in her inner commentary:
I hung up shortly after we had done the goodbye thing that annoys me: 'Goodbye,' 'Bye,' 'Goodbye,' 'See you later,' 'Yes, goodbye,' 'Bye, then.' So tedious.
She is definitely a bit of an Eleanor Oliphant kind of character. She finds social situations very difficult and doesn't always react emotionally like people think she should, but being inside her head is often entertaining. Neurotypical human socialization through her eyes seems absolutely ludicrous a lot of the time.
Despite this, however, I actually think Sally is only the second most interesting character in this book. The other is less likable, sometimes intensely unlikable, but far more complex. Nugent has explored two different forms of trauma and abuse here; Sally's was the more straightforward of the two.
I would like to reiterate that this is a very dark book that contains physical and sexual abuse, on-page violence, paedophilia and all manner of gross emotional manipulation. I don't recommend it for readers especially sensitive to these subjects....more
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