BOOK REVIEWS

Chain of Gold by Cassandra Clare — book review

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“We don’t always love people who deserve it.”

To be honest, I thought I was over Cassandra Clare….and it turns out I was very wrong. There is something about the Shadowhunter world that I find interesting. And over the past ten years or so I have grown fond of it and the characters that inhabit it.
Chain of Gold sees Clare at the top of her game. The Infernal Devices series is my favourite by Clare…and Chain of Gold has the same atmosphere. Clare is great at rendering historical settings and I just loved the way she depicts the beginning of the 20th century.
There is angst, quite a few battles, drama, secrets, a few complicated love hexagons, and a lot of longing.

“Would you like to be a muse?”
“No,” said Cordelia. “I would like to be a hero.”

Cordelia Carstairs is perhaps one of my favourite heroines by Clare. Kind, just, not afraid of calling out her loved ones for their rude behaviour. There are so many other characters and relationships that I really loved. I was particularly fond of the bond between Cordelia and Lucie. The somewhat fraught relationship between Cordelia and Alastair was surprisingly poignant. The romantic relationships, often restrained, were engrossing.
The merry thieves (James and his friends) brought to mind Maggie Stiefvater’s the raven boys. James and Grace’s story had quite a few parallels with Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations.
This book made me laugh out loud, squee in delight, and stay up all night.
If I had to pick a favourite character it would probably be Alastair who is far from perfect but has a wonderful character arc.

I loved the setting (London), Clare’s writing, the atmosphere, the characters, the action, and the various mysteries that pop up in the narrative. I can’t wait to read the next instalment.

My rating: ★★★★★ 5 stars

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The King of Crows by Libba Bray — book review

unnamed.jpgI hate to say it, or write it, but The King of Crows wasn’t a very satisfying conclusion to The Diviners series.

“Who got to decide what made somebody an American? America, the ideal of it at least, was its own form of elusive magic.”

While it isn’t as drawn-out as the finale to the Gemma Doyle series (which was around 800 pages) it struck me as being similarly anticlimactic.
In The King of Crows the pacing of the story is all over the place and the characters have very rushed and unsatisfying arcs.

Nearly three years have gone by since the release of Before the Devil Breaks You. Given that this series started back in 2012, it isn’t all that surprising that I’d forgotten a quite a few major plot-points. Still, I remembered the diviners, their personalities and powers, as well as their group dynamics. Libba Bray doesn’t spend too much time recapitulating old events, and once I caught up or remembered what was going on I found the first few chapters of this novel to be promising enough.
Once the diviners are scattered across America however the story’s upbeat pace comes to a halt. What follows over the course of the next three-hundred pages is a tedious repetition of similar scenarios.
The diviners encounter good folk, who are willing to help them or understand what it means to be different (such as the members of a circus), as well as horrible individuals and groups of people (the most noticeable being the KKK). They all come to terms with their simultaneously beautiful and terrible country/world. All the while we get random chapters showing us that ghosts are coming (phrases such as ‘ghosts are coming’ and ‘this country is full of ghosts’ are repeated so many times as to loose the initial sense of danger and urgency that they carried). The confusing showdown between our good guys (aka the diviners) and the baddies is crammed in the last hundred pages.
The narrative in The King of Crows lacked the mystery-factor that made the other volumes in this series intriguing.

In short: the story is just padding.

Characters behave as flimsy versions of their former selves (Evie and Ling, both of whom I previously really liked, were simply irritating) and had very rushed storylines that seemed to add very little to their overall arc.
Take Henry. Most of his scenes revolve around the way in which his sexuality is deemed abnormal by his society. That’s pretty much it. Ling’s sections also often emphasise her sexuality. Whereas those scenes that focus on characters such as Memphis and Theta seem to focus on other aspects of their lives (their general desires and fears, etc). Jericho has the most eye-roll worthy storyline which sees him (view spoiler).
Even the banter between the various diviners felt unimaginative. At times their conversations and discussions seem to rely on their catchphrases (Evie says something ‘scandalous’, Sam says something flirty, Jericho doesn’t get whatever is going on, Ling is disapproving…).
None of the romances were interesting. They mostly revolved around cute nicknames (such as baby vamp) and on scenes featuring some very uninspired flirting.

The King of Crows is a Disney type of villain. I remember that the first instalments of this series presented us with creepy or fascinating antagonists…but this guy is just dull. He has a few cameos here and there, scares our protagonists, does some mayhem, and is very much the novel’s boogeyman.

The setting too seemed to lack its usual spark and vibrancy. Previously I loved the way in which Bray brought 1920s New York to life. In this volume however most of the ‘action’ is outside of New York, and we read of a series of small and forgettable towns…which do not make very intriguing backdrops.

The plot was full of convenient coincidences. What frustrated me the most was a ‘revelation’ towards the end, which came as no surprise whatsoever (view spoiler)

Bray draws an unsubtle parallel between the rampant racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia, anti-Semitism, othering, and other forms of bigotry of the 1920s and today’s political climate (there are phrases such as ‘get out of our country’). Her approaches to some of these topics came across as rather on the nose. For example when Theta learns that someone she likes was raised by slave-owners she has such an unbelievably naive ‘how could she?’ reaction.

The epilogue struck me as predictable….(view spoiler)

All in all…this was an incredibly disappointing followup to Before the Devil Breaks You.
While Bray is an undoubtedly good writer The King of Crows simply lacks the glamour and electricity that made the other instalments so much more engaging and atmospheric. It had a meandering narrative, with lots of repetition regarding the importance of storytelling and stories, a passage from Nietzsche which felt rather out of place, some lacklustre cosmic horror, and a cast of one-dimensional characters.

My rating: ★★★✰✰ 3 stars 

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Winterhouse by Ben Guterson — book review

 

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“She was good at all sorts of puzzles—word searches, hangman, acrostics, cryptograms, any puzzle with words.”

Although I am not part of Winterhouse’s target audience, I do enjoy reading the occasional book aimed towards younger readers as they can be quite uplifting and entertaining reads. In fact, I picked Winterhouse up hoping for a light and amusing read…which it was…occasionally, and the artwork was very cute, I’m not sure Winterhouse lives up to its summary. It has plenty of clever puzzles and word-plays but it lacked…oomph.

Winterhouse has an intriguing yet familiar premise. Elizabeth Somers is an orphan, who is raised by uncaring relatives and who doesn’t have any friends. She is a precocious bibliophile (she does bring up some childhood favourites such as Inkheart, The Golden Compass, and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe) who is a fan of puzzles, especially anagrams—and of using long or clever words (not always successfully). One Christmas her aunt and uncle decide to go on a holiday without her and so without any explanation or apology they send to the Winterhouse hotel. Once there Elizabeth meets Winterhouse’s eccentric owner, the kind librarian, a boy who happens to be as bespectacled and puzzle-lover as she is, and a sinister couple.
While there was a lot to like, once at Winterhouse Elizabeth’s behaviour becomes increasingly annoying. She is bossy towards her new friend and repeatedly jumps to silly conclusions. The mystery of Winterhouse is weakened by the incredibly cartoonish villains and by a general lack of atmosphere. The rather obvious connection between two characters did not in fact come across as a surprise.
The setting, which had so much potential, never came to life. It remained rather nondescript.

All in all this was an okay MG read. The simple writing style and story reminded me of The Mysterious Howling by Maryrose Wood. At times it seemed that the narrative was trying to be as quirky and clever as a book by Lemony Snicket but it doesn’t quite succeed.

My rating: ★★★✰✰ 3 stars

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Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor — book review

51vdoCLo6NL.jpgStrange the Dreamer is a wonderfully imaginative novel. Meditations and discussions on storytelling, dreams, and myths are not only embedded in the narrative but shape the very way in which the two main characters view their world and themselves.

“Lazlo owned nothing, not one single thing, but from the first, the stories felt like his own hoard of gold.”

It feels strange to like a book I initially gave up on.Usually<, I don’ give book second chances. I first tried reading Strange the Dreamer two years ago and…it’s safe to say—or write—that I was less than impressed. I tried reading one or two chapters but disliked Laini Taylor’s flowery metaphors. This time round, for some reason or other, I really appreciated Taylor’s prose. Maybe I should start giving more books second chances…

In many ways Strange the Dreamer adheres to many conventions of the fantasy genre…we have our orphan hero, those who are considered ‘different’ (in this case they also happen to have blue skin), a wannabe Draco Malfoy sort of bully, a quest, two star-crossed lovers…yet, much of the lore and imagery within the narrative of Strange the Dreamer struck me as undeniably unique.
The worldbuilding is simply stunning. The lands and cities within Strange the Dreamer are given vivid and in-depth descriptions. Weep plays a central role within this narrative. We learn, alongside our hero, of its environment, history, language, and customs. This information is spread throughout the course of the novel, so that Weep always retains its fascinating and mysterious appeal.
The two main characters are very compelling. Although Lazlo Strange might appear as the ‘usual’ orphaned fantasy protagonist, he possesses many characteristics that set him apart. His kindness and genuine thirst for knowledge will make readers all the more involved in his quest for Weep.
Sarai—whose powers are both a gift and a curse—provides us with a different point of view. The interactions between Lazlo and Sarai were extremely sweet. While their instant ‘connection’ might ring ‘insta-love’ bells, it did not come across as forced. In spite of their different positions and backgrounds they are both lonely.
Taylor has a beautiful way with words. Her prose has a captivating rhythm that calls to mind storytelling. Her vibrant descriptions add a richness to the characters’ background and there are plenty of luscious phrases sprinkled throughout her text.
My only criticisms are towards the secondary characters (who seemed a bit one dimensional) and the occasionally heavy-handed aesthetics (we do not need to be constantly reminded of how our main characters’ look).
Still, I’m glad I gave this book a second chance! The storyline was intriguing, its discussions on and dynamics between divinities and humans were compelling, and the two main characters are extremely likeable.

 

My rating: ★★★★✰ 3.75 stars (rounded up to four)

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Platform Seven by Louise Doughty — book review

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In spite of its flaws Platform Seven is a lot more thoughtful than one might expect from its murder mystery premise.

“There was a man on the station only two hours ago who will never go home again.”

One of the weakest aspects of this book is that it tries, and doesn’t really succeed, in combining two different genres and concepts together.
The first 30% or so of this novel proposes a slow and atmospheric take on the ghost story. Louise Doughty’s use of the supernatural, although patchy, allows her to create a mosaic of the lives and troubles of the people working at Peterborough Railway Station. Forgotten and largely overlooked, they are forced to deal with horrific situations such as suicides. Through Lisa Evans, the ghost of a suicide victim, we follow some of the night staff in their everyday lives. Lisa is somehow able to tell what these people feel and think, and there is a sense of quiet resignation in the people she observes. Although depressive, very much so, it was interesting to glimpse the fears and desires of the people observed by ghost-Lisa. I found Dalmar, Tom, Melissa, and Andrew’s lives interesting and affecting.

“What is the point where a human being stops being a human being and becomes a thing? Most people think it happens with death but Dalmar knows it can happen a long time before then if it needs to, so that other people can bear what they are seeing. ”

At times being reminded that we were seeing their lives through ghost-Lisa seemed to offset how realistic these characters were. Ghost-Lisa herself seems to fluctuated between being a ghost, invisible and silent, nothing but consciousnesswho doesn’t have memories of her past, a body, or a sense of her own humanity (“When you don’t have a body, time is no longer even or consistent: it stretches and bends, folds in on itself. ”) little more than an impassive and intangible observer, and yet, she also comes across as the cliché of a ghost, one that wouldn’t be out of place in A Christmas Carol.
As the narrative slowly progresses ghost-Lisa seems increasingly incongruous. Although she initially stresses that she is a mere consciousness with no links to her past, she can also ‘see’, ‘float’, and move her human-shaped-ghost-body.
Because of this I was never able to immerse myself in what she was narrating, and part of me wishes that it had all been narrated from a third perspective as it would have made ghost-Lisa slightly less off-key and more convincing.

As ghost-Lisa becomes preoccupied with the latest suicide on ‘her’ platform she somehow becomes able to remember her own past. The switch between ghost-story to a tale of an abusive-relationship is quite jarring.
Rather than presenting us with Lisa’s whole life, Louise Doughty focuses on the last few years before her death, depicting a detailed, occasionally frustratingly so, portrait of the relationship between Lisa and her boyfriend. We follow them through nerve-racking dinners to conversations and fights that draw attention to the secret and concealed violence that dictates her boyfriend’s behaviour towards her. Lisa recounts how time and again she glossed over his increasingly manipulative behaviour towards her. The realisation that her beloved boyfriend Matty is a toxic little sh*t is a slow one and first we are forced to watch as Lisa becomes increasingly alienated from her life and daily existence because of him.

While I could sort of emphasise with Lisa’s difficultly in reconciling herself with her abusive relationship it a bit weird that this came to her as a ‘surprise’…from their very first meeting he acts in a perturbing way towards her. Other people think that he is charming-golden-boy…but I never saw that either. Late in the novel he sings her song during her birthday party but I’m not sure that singing one song would make her friends and family believe that he is the perfect boyfriend. As ghost-Lisa sort of pre-warns us about Matty’s true character, my perception of him never changed: from his first appearance to his last one he struck me as a horrible manipulator.

The scenes which feature their deteriorating relationship could at times be very repetitive and part of me wishes that we could have been properly introduced to Lisa before her relationship with Matty. At times her role seems to be confined to that of ‘victim’ (not that she isn’t a victim but her roles seemed to be restricted to that of Matty’s girlfriend) . I wish more of her personality had come through rather than having such a large part of the narrative focus on how paranoid and anxious she became during her relationship with Matty. More could have been made of her relationship with her family and best friend, so we could have at least seen Lisa ‘without’ Matty.

The pacing of the story was rather uneven. Occasionally the slow and ambiguous narrative could create and build tension. For example, Doughty emphasises Lisa’s unease during a fight with Matty at their favourite restaurant by dragging out the description of a pepper mill:

“As he turned it over our plates, coal-black chunks of pepper fell from the end and the grinding blades made a squeaking sound like the iron wheels of a very old train creaking slowly into motion. I felt plunged into seriousness, all at once, as if I had been missing something important in the debate we had just had, as if I should have known what it was but was too dim to work it out. The squeaking of the pepper mill set my teeth on edge. I realised the waiter was going to keep going until I told him to stop, so I lifted my hand.”

In other instances however Doughty seems to loose herself in detailed and irrelevant descriptions. A few pages are wasted on ghost-Lisa taking a gander through a Waitrose where she is repeatedly amazed by the items they sell:

“Since when did doughnuts come in so many flavours; lemon icing, raspberry icing, salted caramel icing? It isn’t just the doughnuts. I traverse the aisles. Ice cream sauce comes in creamy fudge flavour, Belgian chocolate flavour, raspberry coulis flavour and – my favourite – Alphonso mango, passion fruit and yuzu. What is a yuzu? Is an Alphonso mango significantly different from any other kind of mango […] then I go and confirm my suspicions about carrots: they are, of course, even more orange than I remember […] on my way out, I drift along the salad bar, glancing into the tubs of salad one by one, wondering why so many of them contain kidney beans.”

That scene lasted way longer than it should have and it didn’t really serve any purpose other than a weak reassertion that ghost-Lisa has few memories of her life.

Overall I think that the idea was better than the execution. There were scenes which were both powerful and horrific, but more often than not these were lost in a painstakingly redundant narrative which repeatedly looses itself in digressions that added very little to the overarching story.
Platform Seven seemed to contain two different books. A not entirely convincing supernatural ghost-story (where much is made of the coincidence of two suicides at the same platform) in which ghost-Lisa follows others around, making occasionally thought-provoking deliberations but frequently resorts cookie-like musing. The other narrative is an uncomfortably close look at how vicious and insidious an emotionally and psychologically abusive relationship can be. We see how Matty uses his job as a doctor to guilt-trip Lisa, how he deliberately works to erase her sense of self, her self-esteem, and her happiness.
While I wouldn’t necessarily say that I ‘enjoyed’ reading this (given that the novel deals with many different forms of abuse) Doughty’s approach to this subject was interesting and refreshing.

My rating: ★★★✰✰ 3 stars

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The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson — book review

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“They can’t turn me out or shut me out or laugh at me or hide from me; I won’t go, and Hill House belongs to me.”

The first time I read The Haunting of Hill House I felt confused and vaguely underwhelmed. Having loved We Have Always Lived in the Castle, I was expecting a similar reading experience…but although The Haunting of Hill House has many of Jackosn’s trademarks (an alienated young woman, a creepy ambience, a house that acts as a character, doubles, a sense of surreality) the narrative was even more confounding than her usual. A third re-read of this novel has allowed me to appreciate the story and its characters much more than I did on my first read.
Jackson has that unique vision that makes her stories immediately recognisable. Her idiosyncratic style is not for everyone and many readers that have watched the Netflix adaptation of this novel will find themselves thrown into a bizarre Tim Burton-ish sort of story that is unlike the tv series.
Still, while this might not be Jackson’s most ‘accessible’ novel it is now widely regarded as one of the greatest haunted-house story ever-written.
Yet, while the haunting—aka the supernatural element—is what this novel is known for, there are many other aspects that make this novel so unnerving. What Eleanor Vance experiences in Hill House is not solely a result of the house’s paranormal activity, and her character both adheres to and transcends the mould of the ‘passive’ Gothic heroine. The “hauntedness” we read of, is not in the actual house but in Eleanor herself.
As soon as we are introduced to her we learn of her unhappy and uneventful existence. Having spent ten year as her mother’s sole caretaker, frozen in a life of servitude, and locked in a relationship ‘built up devotedly around small guilts […] constant weariness, and unending despair’ (25), Eleanor has grown into an emotionally stunted adult. Throughout the course of the novel Jackson depicts the way in which Eleanor’s mind is triggered by the matriarchal presence of Hill House and, ‘haunted’ by her traumatic childhood and her troubled relationship with her mother, she slowly descends into childishness. Her behaviour, and her rejection of adult life, might seem ‘weird’ and sudden but if we pay attention we can see that Jackson early on introduces us to certain images and words that allude to much of what happens to Eleanor in Hill House.
In this novel, Jackson’s interpretation of novels of formation is even more subversive than in Hangsaman, to the extent that Eleanor’s story arc is that of an anti-Bildungsroman sees her absorbed into Hill House.
Jackson’s writing itself is as unique as always. She has that rhythm, that perfect symmetry, that makes many of her paragraphs into tiny masterpieces. And, of course, there is her humour which might often makes her characters seem to be somewhat hysterical. Yet, since everything has this surreal quality, the weirdness of the characters and their world makes sense.
In spite of its moments of humour, and of the many amusing scenes contained in this novel, reading again made me more aware of the anxiety and depression felt by Eleanor…so yes, this novel is not an easy read, yet it has so many interesting layers and quirks that I fully recommend it (especially to established Jackson fans). We see the few options left to someone who has never had the chance to enter the adult world, form adult relationships…Eleanor dreams and daydreams are filled with a yearning to belong…which ultimately leads to her dissolution.

My rating: ★★★★✰ 4 stars

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Things in Jars : Book Review

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Things in Jars
by Jess Kidd
★★★✰✰ 3 stars

Throughout Things in Jars Jess Kidd showcases her creativity. This novel imbues its mystery with an intriguing mixture of fantasy and science.
Kidd’s main character is a tour de force. Bridie Devine is an experienced detective. Her strength, her resilience, and her sharp-wit, made her into an incredibly compelling character. Her relationship with Cora, her ‘second in command’ who is about 7ft tall, provided a lot of heart-warming scenes. Their interactions were funny and consolidated the depiction of her friendship.
At the start of the story, and coinciding with her new case, Bridie meets a former boxer Ruby Doyle…who happens to be a ghost. He claims that they knew each other, but Bridie doesn’t seem to remember him. Together they try to find Christabel Berwick, a remarkable child who has been kidnapped. Bridie and Ruby’s scenes were perhaps some of favourite moments in this novel. These two have a great (not strictly romantic) chemistry and I found their banter to be really entertaining.
The other characters were definitely…picturesque. They were not as interesting as Bridie or her friends and they often seemed either weird or creepy (a few manage to be both).
Kidd sets her intriguing story in London 1863. The city comes to life through layers and layers of vivid descriptions. Her London buzzes with a chaotic energy and at times it could be almost overwhelming there. The dialogues, dialects, and expressions all conveyed this historical period.
What stopped me from ever loving this novelin spite of its many meritsis the writing style. The sprawling narrative jumps from character such as Bridie to a secondary character to an animal, such as a bird or a horse, to the objects of a room or the city itself. Everything seemed to become part of this narration, and at times I wished it would just settle down on Bridie. From the start of the novel there are chapters from the person who has taken Christabel and they sort of undermined Bridie’s storyline, which should have been the focus of this story.
Often sequences would seemed clouded by this unrelentingly exuberant narration. Revelations where muddled, characters’ actions or choices seemed to be revealed in a backwards sort of way, to the point where it seemed I had to re-read and decode a scene before grasping what had happened.
Each phrase or description seemed far too playful. Soon these funny description became repetitive and predictable. The humour was overwhelmingly there. Everything was meant to be amusing, which didn’t quite work in favour of the most serious or dramatic scenes. The narrative was almost interactive…which I found irritating since it made the characters and their experiences in a bit of a joke. It just made some of themes less serious.
If you don’t mind this sort of playful style (which uses the type of humour that a child might use: arse and farts jokes, comparing people to turkeys and crabs ) this might be book for you.

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The End of Temperance Dare : Book Review


The End of Temperance Dare by Wendy Webb
★★✰✰✰ 2 stars

I was hoping that this would be a ‘guilty pleasure’ of sorts or a cozy Gothic story…I wasn’t prepared for such a cheesy and badly written story. This book was unintentionally funny.
The start of this novel was interesting enough, and the first few chapter showed potential.
Soon, however, I started to notice a few things that ruined any possibility of my liking this novel.

THE WRITING
I don’t like to be too critical about someone’s writing skills but here there was an abundance of cringe-worthy descriptions and phrases which seemed to belong to a piece of fanfiction I wrote at the age of 14, which was far from great (quite the opposite in fact, it was terrible, my main character was perpetually ‘narrowing’ her eyes…something which Eleanor does as well).
-The main character repeatedly ‘winces‘ at her own thoughts (wince appeared in different forms—ie. winced, wincing—for a grand total of 25 times)
Characters were squinting so much that I started thinking they were all having some sort of attack or that they all need to go to specsavers and get some glasses (the squinting count is up to 50, I kid you not)
✖ There were those cheesy he/she ‘smiled a sad smile’, ‘smiled a broad smile’ or ‘smiled a warm smile’
‘I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding’ appears twice (once isn’t good, but twice? Really?)
✖ Talking of breaths, the main character takes approximately 20 ‘deep breaths’ (I get that she is scared and trying to calm herself down but we don’t need to know that she is trying to slow her breath down every single time…)
✖ The men in this book kept scowling, winking and they must be mutants or walking torchlights since they keep ‘flashing’ their eyes and grins at the main character.
✖ In one scene Harriet ‘pipes up’ 3 times. W-H-Y

NONSENSE
✖ The whole thing was incredibly ludicrous. Really? I’m supposed to feel satisfied by such a hackneyed plot? Nothing much happens but after seeing a creepy dollhouse the main character is convinced that the place is haunted. Sure.
(view spoiler)

CHARACTERS
✖ It took me awhile before I realised that the main character is supposed to be around 40. She behaves and sounds like a teenager with no experience whatsoever. She keeps telling us that she used to be a crime reporter but I just couldn’t believe it. Her character has no history, no substantial past. She seems a barely formed being with no foundations beneath her surface. Her stupidity was infuriating, nearly as much as her habit of blushing when in the vicinity of a man. She is a pantomime. When she has a bad thought she ‘shakes [her] head, as if to shake the feeling away’ and she isn’t capable of thinking things through or of articulating a thought that isn’t related to her attraction to two random men.
✖ The other characters do not speak or behave like people. They seem like play-acting children.

ROMANCE
Hilarious.
Eleanor is surprised by her instant attraction to two different men: ‘I truly didn’t know what to make of my attraction both him and X’. She has to tell herself that she can’t like them since she ‘had just met’ them (she has this thought often). They both start calling her Norrie hours after their first meeting.
And then…this happens:

“There was an energy, a sense of magic that vibrated in the air around us, my body vibrating with it. My peripheral vision blurred as thought the room had fallen away, disintegrated into dust, and there was nothing in the whole world except [his] eyes.”

I have a limit for cheesiness…

GOTHIC
Where?!
I hope that the main character isn’t called Eleanor as an homage to Eleanor from The Haunting of Hill House…there were a few moments which seem ‘borrowed’ from Hill House. Mmh.

This book strings together the most glaring clichés. From the corny writing style to the sloppy romance…it was just bad.

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Wylding Hall : Book Review

Wylding Hall by Elizabeth Hand
★★★✰✰ 3.5 stars

I’ve read two other books by Elizabeth Hand, one of which I consider an all time favourite.
Wylding Hall begins strongly enough. The narration uses a limiting form of structure and consists in a series of interviews with the former members of a British an acid-folk band.
In the 70s the band stayed at Wylding Hall in order to work on their second album but things don’t go quite as planned. During their interviews each character gives their own account of those weeks at Wylding Hall. Some of them are still convinced that whatever happened there was caused by unknown supernatural forces. Some are not so sure.
The fact that they are looking back to their time in Wylding Hall gives their accounts a nostalgic tone. They seem to regret not having prevented one of their own from falling ‘prey’ to whatever roamed Wylding Hall. Some simply yearn for the music they were able to create while staying at the hall or for their carefree living styles.
I was absorbed by the story but there seems to be no real conclusion…there is this mounting uneasy which culminates in nothing.
Great until its disappointing ending.

For fans of We Sold Our Souls.

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THE NIGHT TIGER: BOOK REVIEW

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The Night Tiger by Yangsze Choo
★★★✰✰ 3 of 5 stars

“[His] voice was icy. He’s an ass if he can’t tell you’re obviously a virgin.

and they say romance is dead.

On paper The Night Tiger has a lot of potential but there were several things that prevent it from being a really good novel.

Things that I liked
This is the sort of story that slowly intertwines the fates of seemingly disconnected people. Set in the 1930s in Malaya the narrative brims with the promise of magic and legends and folklore underline the story.
Yangsze Choo’s alluring prose complements beautifully the romantic and dreamy quality of her story. She often uses sweet-sounding metaphors that really appeal to the senses. Her descriptions have this rich and smooth sort of flair that make her setting really stand out.
A missing finger links the story of Ji Lin, a young dressmaker apprentice + dancehall girl, and Ren, a houseboy whose master has recently died. Ji Lin finds herself in the possession of a detached finger while Ren was tasked with finding his master’s missing finger and burying it with his now buried body. The promising premise leads way to a slow paced narrative. The mystery behind the fingers and the ‘odd’ deaths were to me the main drive of the story.

Things that I didn’t like
Dual narrative
While I was intrigued I soon found myself disliked the ‘format’ of the dual narrative. The chapters ended almost with abruptness, as to pique the reader’s interest. I wouldn’t have minded but for the switching between 1st and 3rd person. It didn’t really add anything to the narrative, rather it made a lot of chapters clash with one another. One moment I was deep in Ji Lin’s story next thing I was an ‘outsider’ observing Ren, or worse still William.
Because these chapters interrupted each other’s ‘action’ there were a lot of observations and ‘realisations’ that are repeated, and often it seemed that I was getting a ‘recap’ of what had happened previously to that character.
Characters (Ji Lin is not like other girls, and all men are pigs )
I really wanted to like both Ji Lin and Ren. Sadly, I soon found Ji Lin to be insufferable and Ren was both boring and had some very non-child-like moments
Ji Lin is the typical gorgeous and smart girl who doesn’t know how beautiful and charming she is. She wanted to study medicine, like her step-brother Shin, but decides not to disobey her “tyrannical” stepfather. Ji Lin seems to find it unfair that Shin was able to study and that she is only excepted to become a wife…and yet Ji Lin soon reveals herself to be the type of young woman who judges and condemns women in situations similar to her own. She seems to think herself better than the other dancehall girls (and their shock horror promiscuous ways). If she is progressive enough to think that women should be doing the same things as the men do, why does she so quickly condemn those like her? Does she think she is the only one who works as a dancehall girl because she in desperate need of money? Is it not likely that the other girls are going through similar ‘hard times’?
Worse still is that the narrative and the other characters constantly remind us that Ji Lin is not like other girls:
—“Most girls in my position would probably be over the moon”
—“You don’t scream about things like this,”
—“You really are blunt, he said. Don’t you know how to act like a girl?”
—“You don’t talk like most local girls”
So, other girls are flirty, air-headed, and easily scared of spiders. Ji Lin is DIFFERENT, she is SPECIAL, she is NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS.
Thanks to her new haircut everybody mistakes for Louise Brooks.

“Seen up close, she’s shockingly pretty. Or at least, she is to him, thought some might say her cropped hair and slender frame are too boyish.”

How can I believe that her beauty is ‘particular’ and ‘not to everyone’s taste’ when every single male character tries it on with her? There is only one guy (who makes only a brief appearance and is already married) who doesn’t pine after her. I kid you not.
Her whole character seems reduced to how men behave around her. She spent her time bickering with Shin, and failing to avoid/turn-down perverts. Her motivations and her actions seemed completely random.
Her character is clouded by her infuriating relationship with (view spoiler)
There are plenty of other vulgar men except that they are not as beautiful as Ji Lin’s love interest is…so they are just creeps.
William is this foreign (I think British) doctor who is made to seem like this possibly ‘bad’ man. Yet, his actions are far from monstrous. More than being loathsome, he seems pathetic. It would have been better to cut his POV entirely from the narrative since it just shows us how insubstantial he is. Really, what was the point of him?
All the men are either sexist or violent. They either act like animals, (“They were like two dogs sizing each other up”), look like animals (Koh Beng, who has a ‘porky face’ and is compared to a pig looks up Ji Lin’s skirt), or are compared to beasts(“Men are beasts, aren’t they?”). Their behaviours and actions are dictated by their reproductive organs. They have no brains! They are just there to behave inappropriately towards Ji Lin or mistreat other ‘lesser’ women.
Lastly, Ren did not act like a child. He is too self-aware to pass for a child. Yet, he also has these naive moments that came across as forced. We never get to know him well because his chapters often focus on William, his new master. Ren’s ‘cat sense’ was cringeworthy: his ‘tendrils’ travel here and there and can sense thing…how about n-o.

What could have been a great story focuses on a ‘will they/won’t they’ romance. The mystery of the fingers soon lost its appeal to me. The ‘murder’ storyline managed to be both disappointing and predictable.
I might try other books by Choo but this just didn’t work for me.

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