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Flyaway by Kathleen Jennings — book review

46184288._SY475_While Kathleen Jennings is an undeniably wonderful illustrator, I’m afraid that I wasn’t particularly impressed by her novella. What first struck me as somewhat discordant in Flyaway was the prose itself. At times the writing was clunky and there were passages that seemed as if they were trying to echo someone else’s style. The way Flyaway started was also incredibly reminiscent of my favourite novel by Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle. While in Jackson’s novel the ambiguity felt almost ‘natural’, Flyway seems to be blaring its own mysteriousness. Our narrator, Bettina (I had to check her name, that’s how ‘unforgettable’ she is) has this excessively creepy monologue which consists in her repeating to herself her mother’s ladylike beliefs/rules. Bettina cannot remember why her father disappeared. She isn’t concerned by her hazy memories until she receives a letter that for plot reasons convinces her to embark on a road-trip with her former best friends. Quite a few people have disappeared in their small town, and these three decide to figure out what’s going on. Interspersed in this already short story are chapters about minor characters who are connected to the town and its mystery.
The characters were mere names and lacked personality. Bettina’s narration isn’t nearly as ambivalent as it believes, the various stories were both boring and predictable, and I simply could not get into the flow of Jennings dissonant writing style.

My rating: ★★✰✰✰ 2 stars

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Come Tumbling Down by Seanan McGuire — book review

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Although occasionally entertaining, Come Tumbling Down struck me as a rather unnecessary and insubstantial addition to the Wayward Children series.

“Once a wayward child, always a wayward child.”

Don’t get me wrong: Seanan McGuire’s writing style is as lush as ever. Her prose, with its use rhythm and repetition, echoes that of fairy-tale, lending a certain allure to her narrative. As with the previous instalments McGuire weaves real issues into her fantastical setting (such as body dysmorphia, gender dysphoria, anxiety, OCD, trauma) however in this case not all of them were seamlessly woven into her story. Some—such as body dysmorphia—were just rushed through and consequently seemed to lack depth.

“No one should have to sit and suffer and pretend to be someone they’re not because it’s easier, or because no one wants to help them fix it.”

The story sadly feels like a rehash of the previous volumes. Part of me doesn’t think that we needed another chapter that focused on Jack and Jill…the dynamics between Jack and Miss West’s students—old and new—weren’t all that compelling. I wish we could have had more of Christopher or Kade instead. The exchanges between the characters felt repetitive and aimless.
The humour felt forced. Sumi was very much the ‘clown’ character who eased the tension of a scene by saying something silly/absurd. The quest itself felt unfocused and made Jill into a rather one-sided character.
On the one hand I really love McGuire’s writing…but here her storyline and characters lacked depth.There were some clever phrases and some ‘aesthetic’ character descriptions but they never amounted to anything truly substantial. Pretty words aside, Come Tumbling Down doesn’t really add anything new to this series.

My rating: ★★★✰✰ 3 stars

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Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones — book review

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“I’m dying of boredom,” Howl said pathetically. “Or maybe just dying.”

Like many, I fell in love with Studio Ghibli’s adaptation of this novel. I consider it a personal favourite and have watched it many times. So once I learnt that it was ‘loosely’ based on a book, I was eager to get my hands on it. For some reason or other however it took me a few years to actually to do so (this was my oldest book on my TBR shelf).
From the first pages I became absorbed by Diana Wynne Jones’ playful writing. The way in which she blends together magic and humour is simply enchanting. Although some of the plot and characters felt familiar, there is a sardonic tone that is entirely missing from Ghibli’s version.
The narrative follows Sophie as she embarks on a fantastical romp. There is comedy, drama, and an abundance of absurdities. Sophie, the oldest of three, believes there is only one path for her…she is proven wrong when she is stripped of her youth. It was fun to see the way in which old age allows her to be ‘more’ of herself. For one, she is a lot more confident…and she happens to be quite headstrong.
The banter between Howl and Sophie was highly entertaining. Their very different personalities clash time and again with often hilarious consequences. Whereas Sophie has a rather serious disposition, Howl’s is one of the most overdramatic characters I’ve read about:

“I feel ill,” he announced. “I’m going to bed, where I may die.”

There is also a metafictional aspect to this novel that adds a layer of amusing self-awareness to the storyline and to its use and subversion of genre conventions, and it brought to mind authors such as Neil Gaiman and J.K. Rowling.
Towards the end, the weirdness did get to me a little…but perhaps a second reading would make things clearer.
Overall, Howl’s Moving Castle is a delightfully magical read that is lighthearted and fun and makes me want to read more by Diana Wynne Jones.

My rating: ★★★★✰ 3.5 stars (rounded up to 4)

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The Queen of Nothing by Holly Black – book review

71sHbfc2H9L.jpgCourt intrigue ahoy!

“We have lived in our armor for so long, you and I. And now I am not sure if either of us knows how to remove it.”

Holly Black’s sensual and lush writing style perfectly complements the menacing world her heroine inhabits.
Black’s silvery prose brims with lavish descriptions: she renders the extravagances of the fairy realm, from their wild and dreadly revels to their taste for grandeur and riddles. Whether she is describing their dresses or foods Black truly succeeds in conveying how decadent and unpredictable the faerie world is. Black’s depicting of the fae and their ways is simultaneously alluring and threatening. Regardless of their appearance—whether they are painfully beautiful or possess disturbing attributes (I’m fairly sure there were a few fae who resembled spiders in here)—and personality, Black’s faerie’s speak in an invitingly mellifluous language. Given their inability to lie there is an emphasis on how they phrase things. Even when making threats or bargains the fae retain their ability to form beautifully articulated phrases.
Black’s faerie world is thrumming with the tantalising presence of magic. While this world offers many glamorous and temptation we are always aware of the danger it poses (to mortals in particular it’s definitely not all fun and games).

“[I]n the great game of princes and queens, I have been swept off the board.”

Jude is a compelling main character and her arc is one of the most interesting aspect of these novels. Perhaps this is due her being the narrator of these novels but she is definitely the most fleshed out character in this series. In this last instalment we really see how much progress she has made. Her resilient nature is stronger than ever. She is brave, if occasionally foolish, and can definitely spin a tale or two. Rather than letting herself be blinded by her thirst for power and revenge, she demonstrates how much she cares for her siblings and the faerie world.
The other characters, although entertaining enough, struck me as occasionally being a bit one dimensional. Jude’s sisters in particular. Taryn is given a sort of ‘redemption arc’ (similarly to other previously ‘wicked’ characters in this series) that just didn’t convince me. Her personality is…pretty bland. Vivi seemed to be the series’ comic relief…which in some ways worked, given that most of the other characters take themselves rather seriously.

“It’s ridiculous the way everyone acts like killing a king is going to make someone better at being one,” Vivi says. “Imagine if, in the mortal world, a lawyer passed the bar by killing another lawyer.”

Cardan is as amusing as ever. I was once again not entirely convinced by some of the reasons we are given about his ‘wicked’ past…I’d preferred for him to have grown into a better person rather than having been somewhat misunderstood. Nevertheless, I still loved his presence in this volume (still not a fan of his tail though, my best friend and I had a similar knee-jerk reaction when we read this: “His tail lashes back and forth, the furred end stroking over the back of my calf.”)

“Mortals are fragile,” I say.
“Not you,” he says in a way that sounds a little like a lament. “You never break.”

Usually romances are not my favourite aspect of a story or a series but in the case of Jude and Cardan…well, their chemistry is off the charts. Their scenes are just pure enjoyment.
It was also refreshing to see the way their relationship changes and develops throughout the course of this series. Their deadly romance is the perfect combination of angsty and dazzling. Now this is how you portray a convincing enemy-to-lovers romance.

“It wasn’t an accident, his choice of words. It wasn’t infelicitous. It was deliberate. A riddle made just for me.”

While the scope of this series is rather narrow Black has plenty of tricks up her sleeves and the dynamics between the various characters are always shifting. The fast paced plot of The Queen of Nothing has quite a few surprises along the way (maybe not as twisty as the ending of The Cruel Prince but still…).
The resolution felt too neat (the epilogue was particularly cheesy) but I still enjoyed seeing (or reading) how things unfolded.
At times I craved for a more leisurely pace amidst the heart-in-throat action, the many double-crossings and face offs.

While I did prefer The Cruel Prince to its follow ups, I would still heartily recommend this series (even if The Queen of Nothing makes for an entertaining, if a bit rushed, finale).

My rating: ★★★★✰ 4 stars

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We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson – book review

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“Bow all your heads to our adored Mary Katherine.”

In recent years Shirley Jackson has experienced a kind of renascence. Perhaps because of Netflix’s adaptation of The Haunting of Hill House or possibly thanks to contemporary authors (such as Donna Tartt, Neil Gaiman, and Stephen King) who have credited Jackson as their inspiration, enhancing her reputation, and prompting a reappraisal of her work. The fact that the Gothic and Horror genres—long regarded as cheap and sensational—are no longer considered ‘lowbrow’ fiction has also contributed to this reassessment of Jackson’s oeuvre. Modern readers now see Jackson as a central figure of the America Gothic as much of her fiction paints a fascinating—if not disturbing—portrait of postwar America . Yet, I find it difficult to pigeonhole Jackson as a Horror writer. Her narratives often feature emotionally disturbed women who are trapped within Kafkaesque worlds. They reality they presents us with seems off. Jackson seems to magnify the way in which traditions and societal expectations threaten one’s individuality and creativity. Most of her stories follow a woman’s ‘quest’ to find or maintain her identify. The ‘horror’ within Jackson’s stories is experienced by her characters. It is because most of her protagonists are labelled as ‘different’ that they are made vulnerable. Yet, readers will often find that all of Jackson’s characters behave with eccentricity (there are whole towns and communities populated by weird people…a bit a la A Series Of Unfortunate Events). In spite of this our protagonists are still singled out, often because they seem more interested in practicing their personal brand of witchcraft than of engaging with the rest of their world.
Madness and evil pervade Jackson’s writing to the extent that even her depictions of everyday occurrences are riddled with human weaknesses, fears, and cruelties. In We Have Always Lived in the Castle evil takes many forms.

The protagonist of We Have Always Lived in the Castle—which happens to be Jackson’s last published novel—has no interest in personal growth. Mary Katherine, who goes by the nickname of Merricat (quite fitting given that she often behaves like her closest companion, a black cat named Jonas), is an untame and defiant tomboy whose apparent ingenuousness hides a razor-alert mind. Six years before the events of the narrative—at the age of twelve—Merricat’s mother, father, aunt, and younger brother died after eating sugar laced with arsenic. Constance, Merricat’s older sister, is accused and acquitted of the crime.
Ostracised from their village, Merricat and Constance have become completely estranged from society. At the age of eighteen—free from her parents’ rules—Merricat has fashioned Blackwood Manor into her own private and idyllic world. The two sisters and Uncle Julian—who survived the poisoning but is now wheelchair-bound and increasingly senile—lead a life that is relatively quiet and governed by the daily chores and the ritual of mealtimes. Constance is in charge of the cooking and spends most of her days looking after Uncle Julian and completing household chores with Merricat, whom she treats with loving indulgence, often condoning Merricat’s disturbing behaviour by saying “silly Merricat”. When Constance voices her desire to go outside of the property, Merricat fear of this begins to manifests itself in her surroundings, skewing the way she perceives her reality so that she views ordinary things as ‘omens’ that “spoke of change.” Merricat attempts to regain control of the situation through her witchcraft and by breaking objects but with cousin Charles’ unannounced visit, Merricat is forced to take more drastic approaches to self-preservation.

A third fourth reading of this short and beautifully odd novel has made me even more appreciative of Shirley Jackson’s mastery of words. The first time I read We Have Always Lived in the Castle I was propelled into an increasingly puzzling yet utterly compelling story. During my second reading, I payed more attention to all of the novel’s components, rather than just getting swept along the bizarrely unapologetic storyline. Each time I re-read this novel, I love it even more. Jackson doesn’t feel the need to explain the surreal reality of her novels which makes readers such as me all the more in awe of her craft. Although it is difficult to draw comparisons, I could describe her style as David Lynch meets Tim Burton. Everything and everyone within this novel is peculiar and most scenes and conservations seem to hold a level of absurdity. Merricat’s narrative is also marked by a sense of growing unease (towards change, the future, anything other than her own version of reality) and the tension created by her various anxieties is alleviated by the story’s dark humour.

There are many different layers to We Have Always Lived in the Castle. One the one hand, it is exactly what its reputation promises it to be: an incredibly eerie and compelling short novel. On the other hand, it also delves into many challenging and unsettling subjects, such as paranoia, persecution and violence. Shirley Jackson does not shy away from portraying the darker corners of human nature, in fact, she delves right into the darkest parts of the human psyche.
On the surface, Merricat’s alienation is debilitating yet a closer look suggests that her estrangement from her society is act of self-preservation, one that is both empowering and subversive, allowing them to defy the societal norms and expectations of their time. Throughout the course of her narrative she attempts—for better or worse—to shape and maintain her own identities, refusing the role thrust upon her by her society. In Jackson’s novels, a world of fantasy is preferable to the ‘real’ world, which is populated by people who perform acts of cruelty, physical brutality and or psychological violence against those they perceive as ‘outsiders’. Merricat, who embodies the feared ‘other’ through her unwillingness, if not outright refusal, to adhere to established social conventions, is the ideal scapegoats of her community.

Merricat’s megalomania shows itself through her desire to exact punishments and for designating things and people as either “good” or “bad”. Her dichotomous view of the world causes her to behave in extremes: she varies between acting like a feral child, a sulky adolescent, and a seemingly Cassandra-like individual. Merricat obeys her childish impulses, and readily resorts to violence when not getting her way. Although Merricat sounds much younger than her eighteen years, her naivety is misleading, and her fantasies can easily move between those of a child (“I really only want a winged horse, anyway. We could fly you to the moon and back, my horse and I”) and those of a far more ruthless and dangerous person.
Her sadistic fantasies, her manipulation and subordination of Constance, and her desire to frighten others (“I always thought about rot when I came toward the row of stores; I thought about burning black painful rot that ate away from inside, hurting dreadfully. I wished it on the village.” ) reveal Merricat’s cunning awareness. Readers might find her charming, yet warped perspective jarring, especially since she avoids explaining her most malevolent deeds.

Merricat’s surreal inner world is conveyed through her first-person narration and readers are granted a unique insight into some of her mental strategies that she uses to feel protected from world around her’. To an outsider like her cousin Charles, many of Merricat’s actions seem to be unwarranted temper tantrums. Readers, on the other hand, know that Merricat always attributes a meaning—however absurd or far-fetched it may appear—to her every action and word. We are aware that she deliberately smashes objects in an effort to regain control over her life.
Merricat’s tendency to let her fantasies dictate her behaviour, turning her imagination into reality, distances herself from the ever-present threat of reality. She attempts to change and control aspects of her life through magical charms and fantasies, with little direct engagement with the outside world. Merricat’s need of control could possibly stems from her ‘fear of change’ which in turn causes her to perceive anything outside her and Constance’s established routine, such as the arrival of uninvited guests, as a threat to their wellbeing. Merricat tries to deflect ‘change’ through her own unique brand of witchcraft, which consists in the performance of various magical rituals, the burying of various ‘safeguards’, unspoken ‘spells’, and even the occasional“‘offering of jewellery out of gratitude”. Merricat draws strength from her belief in magic. What Charles—and presumably the rest of society—would see as childish games, Merricat views as the means to safeguard her future and protect her from the outside.

It is up to Merricat to fashion her home, Blackwood Manor, into a ‘castle’—a stronghold—which she can protect through various magical rituals and wards, and Merricat believes that nothing—and no one—can prevent her from projecting her fantastical and solipsistic view of the world onto her reality.
Shirley Jackson’s style is perfectly attuned to Merricat’s unnerving mind. Her obsessive and impulsive nature is fluidly conveyed by Jackson’s repetitive and rhythmical writing. Jackson also evokes a surrealisms reminiscent of fairy tales through the Merricat’s childlike urges and morbid fascination.
Merricat is a beguiling narrator. Her playful fantasies are juxtaposed against the most violent and bizarre thoughts. Her devotion to her sister borders on the obsessive yet it is through this puzzling relationship that we see a more genuine side to Merricat’s character. In spite of her selfish nature, her palpable fears and unique worldview make her into a fascinating protagonist. Once the stability of the sisters’ purposely reclusive existence is threatened, Merricat survives through her active fantasy. She retreats into the deepest parts of her made-up world. And it is her increasingly desperate attempts to retain control over both Constance’s and her own life that make her into such a brilliant character. Even in those instances where she ‘simply’ observes others, Merricat is always ‘there’, her presence unmissable to the readers.

Her sister Constance also demonstrates worrying behaviour. She too is initially in complete denial over the family’s status. She is in some things, rather controlling, while in other instances, she seemed…on another planet. While Constance remains a cypher of sorts, we see why Merricat needs her.
Uncle Julian ramblings were endearing and his sharp remarks provided much entertainment. Much of the story’s humour springs from his character.
Merricat perceives cousin Charles a threat right from the start. The scenes featuring him are brimming with tension: Merricat’s apprehension is all too real, and I found myself viewing him as an ‘enemy’, just as she does. Merricat’s descriptions of him often present him as something not quite human, a ghost or some such creature. While we can see that some of his criticisms towards Constance and Merricat had some truth, we are always seeing him through Merricat’s eyes.

The underlying suspense, the growing unease, make this uncanny tale hard to put down.The vivid descriptions are simply tantalising, the surreal quality of the characters’ conversations is darkly amusing and the atmospheric setting is almost tangible. We Have Always Lived in the Castle makes for a lush and macabre read, one that will probably strike you as weird yet ultimately compelling. It could be read as a fairy-tale of sorts, an alternative to folklore narratives, or as a story that sets otherness against ‘herd’ mentality.
Recently there has been a film adaptation of this novel (you can watch the trailer for it here) which, in spite of some minor alterations, brings to life Jackson’s story. It conveys the novel’s unapologetic weirdness, its idiosyncrasies, and its black humour. The film Stoker also seems to have drawn inspiration from this novel.
The first page of this novel perfectly encapsulates its style and tone. If you are uncertain whether this is the kind of story for you, I recommend you read its opening paragraph:

“My name is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am eighteen years old, and I live with my sister Constance. I have often thought that with any luck at all I could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but I have had to be content with what I had. I dislike washing myself, and dogs, and noise. I like my sister Constance, and Richard Plantagenet, and Amanita phalloides, the deathcup mushroom. Everyone else in my family is dead.”

My rating: ★★★★★ 5 stars

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The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd-Jones — book review

36524503._SY475_.jpgThe Bone Houses is a delightfully creepy and atmospheric book that makes for a quick and entertaining read.

“The things that crawled from the lake were sinew and rotting flesh. They were silent, with hollow eyes and bodies that caved in.
They were called bone houses.”

The story follows a quest of sorts in a medieval-inspired fantasy setting. Although the landscape is vaguely

 

reminiscent of Wales, the world in The Bone Houses is a unique product of Emily Lloyd-Jones’s imagination and therefore isn’t tied down or restricted by historical accuracy.
The novel opens in the quite literally ‘off the map’ village of Colbren. Seventeen-year-old Aderyn, who goes by Ryn, is the daughter of the village’s gravedigger. After her father’s disappearance and her mother’s death, Ryn, alongside her younger siblings, struggles to make ends meet. The graveyard isn’t doing too well as most of the villagers are aware of the rumours of the ‘bone house‘, the dead who don’t stay dead, so they prefer to cremate their loved ones, Ryn spends her days loitering in the forest, and finds herself in more than occasion face to face with a ‘bone house’. Thankfully for Ryn, her trusted companion happens to be an axe which she can use with skilful dexterity, especially when in peril.
The arrival of a stranger in the village, a young aspiring map-maker, provides Ryn with the opportunity to venture into the forest and to see if the ‘bone houses’ are indeed the result of a decade-old curse.
The two main protagonist were both compelling in their own ways. They each had their own distinctive personality with character arc. Their relationship progressed at a slow yet convincing pace.
The novel has a surprisingly amount of humour, so that there are many moments when the characters’ banter or a dark joke adds an entertaining note to some of the more action or suspenseful oriented scenes.
Emily Lloyd-Jones’ writing style resonated with the fairy tale gone wrong atmosphere of her novel. Her prose is that of a storyteller whose careful pace and use of repetition gives a delightful rhythm to her story.

“When the man said the cauldron would make his fortune, people laughed at him.
The man was right.
Terribly, horribly right.”

The curse and Ryn’s quest reminded me a bit of The Black Cauldron, except instead of a pig with have a very stubborn goat who accompanies our heroes in their journey to break this curse. There is also a certain Over the Garden Wall quality to it that makes it into a rather perfect Halloween read.
While I enjoyed the story and characters I think that the tone of the book was a bit too middle-grade for me…maybe if I’d read this believing that it had indeed been marketed as MG I wouldn’t have hoped to read of a story with more horror or darker content.

My rating: ★★★✰✰ 3.25 stars

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Beautiful by Juliet Marillier — review

In Beautiful subverts fairy-tale storylines by making her heroine a troll princess. Hulde is in fact the sole daughter of a tyrannical queen who terrorises those around her. In spite of its title, the story is not concerned with beauty: Hulde knows that humans are afraid of her. Trolls are seen as hideous creatures and throughout the course of the story’s three acts Hulde will have to reconcile herself with her appearance and her position as (view spoiler).612XkHP-AnL._SL500_
I’ve read many of Marillier’s books and it was refreshing to read of a protagonist who isn’t stereotypically beautiful. I also like the way bravery is what Hulde aspires to, rather than beauty. She constantly tries to better herself and ultimately learns that to be brave also entails trusting others.
Marillier pays particular attention to storytelling itself and in her adventures Hulde often draws strength from old tales of brave heroes and heroines.
Although this was an enjoyable read, with some interesting takes on certain tropes, I found the story to be less complex than some of Marillier’s other novels…perhaps because this is an audible original so Marillier kept things ‘simple’ for this type of format or maybe because this was the spin-off of a short story she’d written…longtime fans of Marillier might find this story to be less layered than her usual.
Still, this is a short audiobook and makes for a short and entertaining read.

My rating: ★★★✰✰ 3.5 stars

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Six-Gun Snow White : Book Review

Untitled drawing (9)Six-Gun Snow White by Catherynne M. Valente
★★★✰✰ 2.5 stars

“She named me cruel and smirking, she named me not for beauty or for cleverness or for sweetness. She named me a thing I could aspire to but never become, the one thing I was not and could never be: Snow White.”

Valent has given a Western spin to an old European tale. I enjoyed the way in which Valente juxtaposes a gritty setting against her lush writing style, and it is almost unnerving the way she can describe horrible things in such a beautiful way. At times, I did find some scenes and metaphors to be gratuitously graphic.
The first part of this novella was really strong. It is narrated by Snow White herself and she recounts how her father married by force a Crow woman (her mother). The way he fetishes her beauty and appearance was truly sickening, and Snow White is always made to feel ‘other’ and ‘alien’ by her father and his servants .
Snow White’s mother dies and her father (Mr. H) marries again. His new wife (known as Mrs. H) begins abusing Snow White, pretending that she is ‘teaching her the ways to become a woman’. Altering physical abuse with a torrent of dehumanising insults and actions (she bathes Snow White in milk in order to make her skin paler) all of the things that Snow White is made to endure were hard to stomach.
The narrative switches to a third perspective which created a distance between the events of the story and the reader (me). There was almost a joke-y tone which went at odds with the Snow White’s serious narration.
The last part was really…pointless? The story comes across as meandering and unfocused. Characters have few (if any) layers, they share the same bland and unfixed personality, and our main protagonist, Snow White, seems quick to forget Mrs. H’s abuse and acts merely under the command of the narrative. What of her will? She is an accessory to her own story, an object rather than a subject.
All in all, this is the type of novella that carelessly tosses characters about, throwing one too many pointlessly extravagant (or occasionally grotesque) observations that have little impact on the overall story but only serve to distract me from the story’s action. The narrative favours the language over its plot or characters. The beautiful phrases soon become overindulgent and repetitive.
Great concept, poor execution.

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ONCE UPON A RIVER: BOOK REVIEW

“ Dreams and stories merge with lived experience, the dead and the living brush against each other in their comings and goings, the past and the present touch and overlap. Unexpected things can happen. Did the solstice have anything to do with the strange events at the Swan? You will have to judge for yourself.
Now you know everything you need to know, the story can begin.”


Once Upon a River
by Diane Setterfield
★★★★✰ 4 of 5 stars

Having loved The Thirteenth Tale I had quite high expectations for Once Upon a River. While this novel is a bit of a departure from The Thirteenth Tale, Setterfield explores similar themes.
The act/art of storytelling plays a huge role in Once Upon a River, and I would go as far as to say that storytelling is the real protagonist of this novel. From its title and its very first pages, the novel addresses the importance of storytelling. The narration feels as belonging to a teller of tales. The way in which certain things are revealed to the reader and the careful rhythm created by stressing certain words or phrases really echoes that of a fairy tale or folktale.
This novel is a homage to these types of tales, conjuring up lore whilst remaining faithful to its own story. Once Upon a River is a modern addition to a long beloved tradition and it provides readers with a more expressive and eloquent tale.

This novel is a bit of a slow burn. To start with, I didn’t know that it was going to be an actual ‘tale’, so I wasn’t sure of the direction of the narramaxresdefaulttive. I wondered at the large cast of characters, the to-and-fro between them, and the seemingly trivial details that take up so much of the narrative…and then, before I begun to realise it, I found myself completely absorbed by the world and the characters depicted by Setterfield. The little girl herself doesn’t have a voice as such

, which was a bit of a pity, and the novel seems to focus on the parents rather than the children. Nevertheless, there are many lovely and moving scenes between various family members, especially between husbands and wives.

My only issue in regards of these characters is that although the main characters felt nuanced, the ‘bad guys’ of the story are merely ‘villains’ and are to blame for all the horrible and or sad things that happe

n within the narrative. The novel seemed rather simplistic in its portrayal of good vs. bad. We get very few glimpses of the thoughts and motivations of the ‘bad guys’ and by the end it seemed a bit too easy to make them in such villainous figures. I know that fairy tales have such ‘bad’ figures but still, given that Setterfield has created a more complex sort of tale, I was hoping that all of the characters would be given the same sort of attention.

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There are a lot of small mysteries peppered throughout the narrative. Some might be easy to guess but it is the way in which the narrative reveals these ‘mysteries’ that makes them worth having. I was fascinated by the gossip and rumours surrounding the little girl, and it was interesting to see what various characters believed to be the truth:
Overall, I enjoyed it. It might be slow going at first but as the characters and their lives take shape, and lulled by the wistful and spellbinding narrative, I soon realised that Once Upon a River is not only a tale worth reading but a tale worth revisiting.

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IN AN ABSENT DREAM: BOOK REVIEW

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In an Absent Dream (Wayward Children, #4) by Seanan McGuire

 ★★★✰✰ 3.5 stars

Katherine–never Kate, never Kitty, never anything but Katherine, sensible Katherine, up-and-down Katherine, as dependable as a sundial whittling away the summer afternoons–was ordinary enough to have become remarkable entirely without noticing it.

Compared to the previous volumes in this series [book:In an Absent Dream|38244358] is a bit of a let down.McGuire’s writing style is enchanting: she uses a lot of repetition which gives the narrative an almost hypnotising rhythm (recalling traditional faerie tales). This instalment follows Lundy, a character previously introduced in [book:Every Heart a Doorway|25526296], who is a solitary and quiet child fond of books and logic. After entering a special sort of door she ends up in the Goblin Market.
AbsentDream-Memories.jpgWhile novel takes inspiration from Rossetti’s [book:Goblin Market|430788] the two do not have a lot in common. The market featuring in this story seemed rather dull. Yes, there are plenty of weird rules that make little sense, and two sisters appear in this in this story, but for the most part Lundy’s adventure lacked the allure and danger of Rossetti’s market.
I also found it weird that a the ‘strict’ rules did not seem to be clearly obeyed by all characters. Initially it seems that no one can ask any question of any sort, then it turns out that very young children can on occasion, and then someone says that it depends from the sort of question.This Goblin Market wasn’t clear cut.
Lundy looses a friend which readers are never aquatinted with, and she goes on dangerous adventures which we also never get to see. Why put these things in? To make this world more interesting?
The characters seemed a bit like a mix of the characters AbsentDream-Market.jpgfeaturing in the previous volumes of this series.
The beginning has a lot of potential. It reminded me of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making but the story that unfolds is both rushed and surprisingly boring.
Still, McGuire’s writing is compulsive enough to make up for the rest.

He shouldn’t have treated her like she didn’t matter. He shouldn’t have treated her like his idea of a girl.

 

Review of Down Among the Sticks and Bones (Wayward Children #2)

Review of Beneath the Sugar Sky (Wayward Children #3)