This is a page-turner with a fast moving, action-oriented plot and an exciting ending. I was curious to read this for the premise, a noir-ish private eye in a supernatural urban setting.
It didn't really live up to the book that was in my head. Butcher gives wizard/P.I. Dresden a naive, adolescent “voice” as the narrator. It doesn't fit with a character that is supposed to be an experienced, trained, and clever detective with a reputation. Seen through his eyes there is not much depth to the supporting characters either. Dresden tells us way too many of his thoughts. He doesn't leave the reader much room to form their own ideas and impressions. Some of the plot points seemed forced and predictable.
Having said all that, I could read more from this series. I heard they get better as they go along, and Storm Front was an easy, fun diversion.
Fun History book that covers Medieval England in an unusual way. Instead of just going over historical events or expanding on a particular person or event, the central thesis is that “19th century novelists and 20th century filmmakers have created a period that never existed.” Medieval years are romanticized in films and books. Anyone who reads high fantasy knows this is generally the mythical time they are set in. Or at least something resembling Medieval times.
The book's chapters are devoted to breaking down the archetypes that are used in films and books. Jones and Alan Ereira cover Damsels, Knights, Kings, Monks, Peasants, etc. The authors go into the scholarly evidence available on the day-to-day lives of these real people who have been mythologized for our entertainment.
For example, peasants were not living as terrible lives as the stereotype would have us believe. They had decent sized houses and lived in nuclear families with valuable goods like tableware and games to lock up and they ate pretty well. Knights spent a lot more time devoted to violent warfare than they did in rescuing “damsels.” Interesting note: the abduction of a lady was often arranged by the woman herself so she could be married to the man of her choice, not have her property given away by the king.
It's an enjoyable read and co-written by a member of one of my favorite television comedy teams. How could I refuse? Having said that, while the book has a few amusing moments, it's not Monty Python kind of funny. You'd be disappointed if you were expecting that.
This is a haunted house/scary story that somehow brought to mind the experience of having a toxic co-worker at a high-pressure job. This co-worker is paranoid that she is not liked and that everyone is talking about her. But she also wants to be the center of attention.
At first you become friendly because you're in this stressful place together and you need each other to get by. After a while the co-worker becomes increasingly needy and clingy and drives you and other people crazy. You don't want to gossip about her because you feel sorry for her, but you catch people's eye and you know they're thinking the same thing.
At some point you realize that the powers that be really are out to get her. But what can you do about it? Certainly, you don't want to be caught in that storm when it finally hits. When your co-worker finally does something totally nutballs and gets fired, you're not too surprised; you saw it coming. But it did happen just a little more abruptly than you thought it would.
“Fear can make you do the wrong thing more than hate or jealousy. If you're afraid, you don't commit yourself to life completely; fear makes you always, always hold something back.”
Flow My Tears... is one of those alternate history/dystopia types of sci-fi novels. I do love reading Philip K. Dick. The writing is easy and relatable but the happenings are so delightfully weird and engrossing.
This world is a police state where your ID and proof of occupation are needed just to be allowed on the street. Other than the fascism, emotional detachment and inability to love are among the problems characters face. They inhabit a world of sex, drugs, and obsession with youth. (Okay, maybe that's not so different from our world.) Our protagonist Jason is a genetically engineered singer and television star who personifies these fixations.
He is attacked by a jilted lover and when he wakes up all proof of his existence, not to mention his incredible fame, is wiped out; everyone that knew him no longer remembers him. (As in his Twitter account vanished.) A cold, self-centered and pleasure-seeking individual who is used to luxury and ease, he now has to beg others for help. His good looks allow him to rely on women, but women that are outside of his former social sphere whom he never would have had anything to do with.
A couple of moments that stood out for me were when other characters had to explain love to him. His old flame Ruth tells him that love is caring for someone beyond your own survival; when that someone dies or leaves you grieve. Jason chooses to believe it would be better not to love like that.
Felix Buckman, the policeman of the title and Jason's nemesis, explains that when you love a child your love for them never changes, even after death or divorce you never lose that love. Again, Jason is relieved not to have this in his life.
There were only two things that kept me from a full five star review. One was the explanation for Jason's sudden “non-existence.” Sometimes these plot devices don't really matter, only the conflict they create. But if Dick is going to bother to write one, this one didn't sit right with me. I'm not going to spoil it, but it wasn't anything I could twist in my mind as making any sense.
The other thing that bothered me was the climatic emotional moment of the book belonged to Felix, not Jason. Felix has the breakdown and reaches out to another human. It's puzzling that Dick sets up Jason as the one that needs to come to this moment of crisis, but then gives it to Felix.
Dark, violent, and disturbing story, told in a first-person point of view, like a diary.
This reminded me a lot of We Have Always Lived in the Castle. Like in that book, the family has mostly died off due to tragedy and are able to maintain an existence away from most people thanks to property owned (in this case a small island) and an independent income. Both stories have a psychopathic, murderous teenager at their center and in both books the main characters are ostracized from the rest of the town due to the actions of a family member. Heck, there's even a fire in the climax of both books.
There's a twist in Wasp Factory as well and it still has me thinking. I can't quite figure out the point of it, but I will admit I didn't see it coming. Terrible things happen to Frank, and he does terrible things. I'm not convinced that the tragic "maiming" that happened to Frank justifies him being the monster he is. Once we find out the truth, it doesn't really matter that it was child abuse instead of a random accident. Unclear if there is a statement being made here about gender or the assumption of gender. That's okay. I don't like messages and morals in my stories.
I do wonder why it is that Franks's brother Eric tortures dogs when Frank is the one with reason to hate them. Frank certainly tortures other creatures but objects to Eric's chosen victims.
So yes, there are a lot of things unanswered here. I'm not looking for a book to answer all questions posed. I'm fine with leaving things ambiguous and open to interpretation. Definitely an interesting book to read if you like psychological horror stuff.
Collection of short stories that revolve around summer in Green Town, IL in 1928. Most of it is through the eyes of two little boys, Doug and Tom, who journal the happenings in the town as a bumper between all the stories. Some of the stories have supernatural elements to them but not all. It's a beautiful book that makes me feel nostalgic for times I never actually experienced.
Not a typical novel because there isn't a plot as such. What we have here is an odd collection of anecdotes about/told by a group of 20 somethings living in the early '90s. Andy, Dag, and Claire have gone through a “mid-twenties” crisis and decided the usual life path of college to career to marriage to house to kids is not for them.
I can relate. As a middle-class kid you always feel like you have to aim for the same life your parents had. If you don't, I suppose you delay “adulthood.” Of course if you delay too long, your life can still seem kind of empty. The characters in this book share the notion that the pursuit of status and material objects that their parents engage in wasn't going to give them a real life. So they withdraw and live underemployed, doing jobs they are too smart for and just getting by. Still, are they happy? Coupland isn't offering you a solution here, just showing you how this generation may have looked at the world.
I love the chapter titles, “ I Am Not a Target Market”, “Shopping is Not Creating,” and “Remember Earth Clearly” are a few favorites. I'm still thinking about my moment of how I want to remember Earth. One story that stood out in my mind was about the three sisters and the astronaut. In a “fairy tale” the sister who went with him would have been rewarded with a fantastic new life for her faith but in this cynical Gen-X tale, it is assumed by the other two sisters, and the reader, that she dies for being a trusting fool.
This was so much fun. Nice blend of fantasy (modern-day) and comedy. Charlie is a relatable character who fears embarrassment more than anything. He avoids drawing attention to himself at all costs. But the price he pays is never getting to shine and share with the world what he's really good at (in this case singing.)
Charlie's character grows thanks to adversity, in the form of his brother Spider, and his crooked boss Grahame. His supposedly dead father ( the West African trickster god Anansi) helps him gain confidence and sense of purpose. I wish things worked out like this in real life. It's such a joyful story to read. Favorite scenes include Charlie singing his way out of a jam with a gun-toting lunatic and Spider making a little clay spider that goes and gets help from all the other spiders.
One theme in this book is the power of stories. When the destructive force (Tiger) owned all the stories, humans were frightened and spent all their time struggling for their survival. When Spider takes over the stories, suddenly humans are freer to make their lives easier, do the things they want instead of living in fear. The story explores the Tiger (fear) trying to take the stories back.
“It's so easy to be nothing. It requires very little thought or afterthought, you can always find people to drink with you, hang out with you, everybody needs a little nothing in their life, right?”
― Kathe Koja, The Cipher
This is Weird Fiction with body horror. The story revolves around some repulsive hipster artists/poets who are drawn to the weird and the ugly. Ex-lovers Nicholas and Nakota discover a supernatural black hole, a “funhole.” Angry, aggressive Nakota is obsessed with the phenomenon. But it all seems to revolve around Nicholas, who is passive, apologetic, and submissive. As he voluntarily spends more time around it, he mutates. The pair draw followers, other failed artists who become fascinated with the hole and see it as some kind of “movement.”
This tale takes a long time to build and does not really satisfy. We spend a lot of time with the characters obsessing over the hole (and a video taken inside the hole) but not really doing anything. The cheap, sad, squalor increases as the story goes on. These frustrated characters make no attempt to be productive or find some type of fulfillment. We see the story from Nicholas' point of view, and though it is hard to like him as such, he does make humorous observations and is sympathetic in his way.
I'm assuming the funhole is supposed to have some deeper meaning, not just be a “monster” in this horror book. Possibly, the hole symbolizes some emptiness in Nicholas and in everyone? Or maybe his destructive, one-sided attachment to Nakota? Or possibly the frustration of all these characters who are searching for some greater meaning in their art but not finding anything. A Picture of Dorian Gray for the Gen-Xer set? These were interesting ideas to think about, and I'm glad to have read the book but something is missing for me, some connection or excitement I would expect from a horror story.
Unique concept for a Stephen King book. It's a short novella with pen and ink illustrations. I particularly liked the drawing of the cemetery.
The chapter structure is various vignettes about residents of a small town who are killed one-by one by a werewolf.
The hero of the town and story is Marty, a little boy in a wheelchair. The characterization that happens in this short book revolves around him and his family. As for his parents, his father tries to cheerfully gloss over his handicap while his Mom seems bitter. Of course all parents are hoping for happy, healthy, normal kids.
There are scenes of Marty missing out on things other kids do like swim, etc. He doesn't explicitly mention how he feels but it's there to see. His eccentric and young uncle Al is the only one who relates to him or treats him like a whole person.
Overall, this is an entertaining, fast read. It's probably geared towards kids who are old enough not to be scared by the violence of the werewolf killings.
The witches sub-series of Discworld is always entertaining. I can't think of one of the five I don't care for. This is the subseries where Pratchett seems to have the most fun spoofing other classic works: Shakespeare, fairy tales and, with this and Carpe Jugulum, classic gothic horror novels (Phantom of the Opera and Dracula).
I am especially fond of this and Carpe Jugulum because of Agnes. Susan and Tiffany were wonderful young leading ladies but I really longed for more Agnes. The split in her mind with her alter-ego Perdita is incredibly relatable. If you feel that what you're expected to be (the good girl, the capable one) doesn't always fit with what you really feel you are or could be, then you get it. We are not always at our best when we're on our best behavior, and this is well illustrated with Agnes. Perdita is Agnes' daring, bitchy, glamorous side coming out, and who knows what Agnes could achieve if she didn't behave all of the time?
There's a common theme in the Discworld books of talented young outsiders who are looking for their place in the world. With her supernatural singing ability, Agnes hopes to find a future on stage, or at least out of small-town Lancre where her choices are limited to wife or witch. It takes the events of the this book, plus “meddling” on the part of Nanny Ogg and Granny Weatherwax for her to get the idea that the stage, and the shallow life of showbiz where usually the thin and pretty are favored, might be limiting and not enough for someone as talented as Agnes.
Throughout Maskerade is (of course) the theme of masking your true identity. The most obvious case is Henry Slugg, a very Ankh-Morporkian singer who pretends to be foreign-born Sr. Basilica. Granny Weatherwax gets in on the act, pretending to be a grand lady in order to infiltrate the Ghosts Box at the Opera. Walter Plinge and Agnes are the most interesting/least shallow of these masked identities and they both suffer in roles that the world has placed on them.
“You want to be something else and you're stuck with what you are,” said Agnes “I know all about that. You're lucky. All you have to do is put on a mask...”
Walter masquerades as a simpleminded handyman who works in the opera house. It's slowly revealed that there might be much more to him. The central mystery of Maskerade is whether or not what he's repressing is a personality capable of multiple murders.
There are other things to love about Maskerade.
1. The humor is dead funny: dark, cynical, silly, sarcastic, slapstick, as well as fun cameos from other Ankh Morpork regulars.
2. A heroic fantasy story with older women as the heroes seems to be a rare thing. Nanny Ogg gets to shine here, her social skills and ability to win other people's trust are indispensable and even Granny admits that it's a kind of magic that she never excelled at. Nanny is more than just Granny's sidekick and balancing force. Part of the power of the old witches is that they know themselves very well and have all the confidence that comes with that. In contrast, they don't spend time doubting their identity. (“-Oh yes? Can you identify yourself?
-Certainly. I'd know me anywhere.”)
3. Even if you're not big on opera, this book would probably appeal to theater kids, which I was. The backstage excitement, rehearsals, “show must go on” , the professional jealousy, it's all a part of the fun and very well portrayed here. (I can see bits of my old self in Agnes and Christina.)
The literary parody and Scooby-doo style mystery might seem a bit silly superficially but there's so much good stuff here.
Genesis who?
(Reviewing this series as a whole, not just this volume.)
It started off so well. I loved the premise: A bad-ass preacher (Custer) is possessed by a creature (Genesis) that is the offspring of an angel and demon and gives him the power to make others obey verbal commands. Not to mention his gun-toting girlfriend and vampire sidekick. Yes please! It was a revelation–a unique twist on horror, fantasy, and westerns.
I loved the dialogue, the attitude, the action, the perversions, the rebellion against authority. There were so many unforgettable characters: The Saint of Killers, Arseface, and Herr Starr to name a few. My favorite moments were in “Until the End of the World” which featured a storyline about Custer's psychotic grandmother and henchmen, as well as the three friends avenging the death of one of Cassidy's old girlfriends.
Unfortunately, this series peaked with “Proud Americans.” The high point was the death of the All Father/destruction of the Grail organization. Once Custer is presumed dead, the series loses all momentum. Ennis goes off on a tangent about the sins and redemption of Cassidy which could have been fine as a side-story but they spend the entire last half of the series with this as the main arc.The final showdown with Jesse and Starr is anticlimactic. Genesis makes a brief appearance but the Saint of Killers takes over the final battle while Jessie is dealing with Cassidy. Starr is reduced to a paranoid, crippled punchline.
My real problem is that there were so many fantastic philosophical implications of Genesis and what Custer could or should do with this power and what the existence of this Being could mean for God and humanity. Ennis suggests he's going to go there but never gets around to exploring any of these elements. I was left with a feeling of “meh” by the end.
This book is a fantastic review of all things scientific, basically covering what scientists know about our world and Universe for the non-scientist reader. Bryson goes into histories of what we know about geology, chemistry, physics, and biology just to name a few. As someone who hasn't really had the chance to take a science class in my adult life, I really appreciated this book and recommend it to everyone.
My final takeaway from the book (besides the many, many ways life as we know it can come to an end) is that there is still so much we still haven't discovered.. Nearly every chapter states something similar. We don't know much about the Universe yet. We don't know much about the atom. We don't know much about the depths of the ocean. We don't know why there were periods of mass extinction or exactly how homo sapiens evolved from other homo species. This is actually encouraging in a way. There is still much to be discovered. If you're young and considering becoming a scientist, by all means, do it!
“Poor strangers, they have so much to be afraid of.”
― Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle
Psychological gothic horror tale about a family that suffered through a tragic event and are then ostracized by the other residents of their village. Mary Katherine, a disturbed young woman who wants to protect what's left of her family through magic words and rituals, is the unreliable narrator of the story.
Older sister Constance is just as intriguing as Mary Katherine. She bends over backward to please and take care of everyone in the house and infantilizes her 18-year old little sister. When cousin Charles comes along, she wants to please him as well. She doesn't see him as a greedy opportunist the way the reader and MK both do. Both sisters go very far in their own way to protect their isolated existence even when it becomes what most of us might consider intolerable.
There's a twist that is pretty easy to guess, largely because of what we know of Mary Katherine's thoughts. That didn't bother me. It was still a thrilling story. We Have Always Lived in the Castle was a fast read, great writing, and a true classic.
This is quite an epic, sci-fi story. It's got space battles, aliens, action, alien worlds, monsters, tons of characters, romance, mythology, and even a little cyberpunk. The amount of detail was quite overwhelming at times. Dan Simmons really outdid himself on world-building. I also really enjoyed the mythology of the entire series, including the two Hyperions books. Raul is an entertaining character and makes a fine narrator for this and the previous book. He's a hero but not too perfect. Brave when he needed to be and his battle with Nemes was the highpoint of the book for me.
I was also enthralled with the mythology of this series. The mystery of the time tombs, the Shrike, and the cruciform. As the last book in the series, Simmons resolved a lot of these secrets nicely. The idea of a future where the Catholic Church takes over the galaxy was intriguing.
Now the not-so-good stuff. The Aenea character because once you've set up a character as a messiah, how does she live up to that? Unfortunately, it causes her to lose her personality. She went from being a fun and bright kid to an adult that all the other characters worship or want to kill. Also, there is the problem that a lot of things were resolved simply by having the all-knowing Aenea tell herfollwers, and the reader, the secret to the mysteries that had been set up. Not the most exciting way to reveal.
Then there's the problem of her and Aenea as lovers. This was set up long ago as something that was “destiny” because she knew her future and Raul's future as a child. So when it finally happens, it's not that exciting, nor can I convince myself that the characters have any real attraction there. I hate destiny. It's also difficult because he knew her as a child and it's a little gross that they would end up in bed. Like having sex with someone you once babysat. Not to mention that she's his messiah and his lover;it's a complicated relationship.
Despite these less-than-satisfying elements, I did enjoy this book and this series very much. The resolution to the conflict with the Pax was surprising, convincing, and satisfying. Aenea lived up to her purpose. I was also happy to see Raul was not going to end up left out in the cold. He was a good man and deserved some happiness.
I read this book soon after reading Mother Night; I was curious since I knew that Campbell, the main character of Mother Night made a “cameo” in Slaughterhouse-Five.
This has other similarities, it is about WWII, it uses dark humor, there is a narrator telling a story-within-a-story and the narrative shifts around in time.
The time shifts are connected to the story here because the mind of the main character, Billy Pilgrim, moves in and out of different points in his life. He believes he was captured by aliens who taught him that time doesn't happen in any particular order. Everything happens all at once and is predestined. He'll be in WWII and suddenly shift to his wedding night, or to working with a patient as an optometrist, or to being an exhibit in the alien zoo, etc.
I'm suggesting “he believes” because my thoughts during reading this were that the reader is not meant to take this as part of the reality of the book; it's not science fiction. Instead, the alien abduction is part of his way of escaping the horrors of his life, particularly being a POW and surviving the bombing of Dresden. I could be dead wrong about this; maybe we are meant to think he was captured by aliens.
But take the bits when he's in the alien zoo, Billy's mating partner is a sexy movie star, Montana Wildhack. This indicates to me that it's a fantasy created in Billy's mind, otherwise, why wouldn't it be just any average woman, someone equal to Billy himself in looks and fame.
The other effect of Billy's alien adventure is that he is convinced there is no such thing as free will. If all events are happening at once then they will always happen; there was really no choice to be made. This fits in with Billy's general passivity during the course of his own life. The only time he seems to make a decision in the book is when he searches for a television station (but finds a radio station) to get his story on the air. He doesn't have to take responsibility for things that happen to him.
Another concept that both Slaughterhouse-Five and Mother Night explored is that in warfare, both sides are human. Germans were people too, or whoever is the “enemy” in any given war. The citizens of Dresden are all killed and it's just as horrifying as when any Allied cities were bombed. It's not a totally original thought but I like the way it's handled by Vonnegut.
Final thoughts: Slaughterhouse-Five was an interesting tale full of many ideas to ponder, but it didn't move me quite as much as Mother Night did. As always, I appreciate Vonnegut's high degree of readability and ability to get across meaning without getting preachy. This is a skill that's missing for many writers these days.
I've been trying to figure out what it is that I don't like about this book. Since it has been so wildly popular with other readers, I feel like I must be from another planet.
There were some details that didn't sit right with me, as well as bad dialogue and underdeveloped characters. There seemed to be no reason to set the story in the 1960s other than to not have to deal with cell phones or a more robust social work system. Certainly the time period wasn't used in the story.
However, if I was really into the story, I think I would have overlooked all of that.
At the beginning of the book, when Kya's mother walks out on the family, I was really invested in what was going to happen to her. As the book went on, I felt that most things were getting resolved pretty quickly. She solves all of her problems with relative ease and there is never any intense moment when her life is really in danger due to the swamp/environment. She is a “social outcast” but gets boyfriends and her social skills seem fine when she needs to pull them out.
I think the problem for me is that the writer wants us to sympathize and even worship Kya. Owens bends the events of the story around her, rather than let the story happen to Kya and see how she might deal with it. As a reader, I wasn't feeling any deep connection with this character and was really only reading to the end to see the resolution of the murder mystery. I think Owens expects the readers to think even the murder is justified. (Not legal, but justified.) Kya can do no wrong and there is no moral conflict and no risks taken that we won't like her.
“A bad fairy tale has some simple goddamn moral. A great fairy tale tells the truth.”
― Victor LaValle, The Changeling
I loved this book's blend of supernatural monster/fantasy/horror/fairy tale as an analogy to the real-life terror that accompanies parenthood. It taps into the primal fear that we're inadequate to another life into this big, bad world. A missing child is every parent's worst nightmare. One prominent theme of this story is LaValle's examination of technology and how it causes us to both ignore our children as well as invite predators to get a good look at them. The story takes you on a father's dark and dangerous adventure to find the monsters that have completely shattered his young family.
I enjoyed LaValle's use and knowledge of New York City. The scene where Emma gives birth on the subway really works. There's a disturbing and paranoid atmosphere throughout the book that suits the story well. Who's watching you and who can you trust? There's also a good amount of gore and violence to satisfy the horror buff in me.
The downside of the story is that it was very slow to build. It didn't get “weird” until over halfway through. A lot of time is spent setting up Apollo's childhood and background as well as his motivation to become a father. It does require patience. Also the characters, Apollo and Emma were not as vivid as the characters in LaValle's previous work. I don't have a strong sense of Emma despite the occasional shift to her POV. Though we spend a lot of time with Apollo, little is revealed about his personality.
There is also an anti-father message. The book assumes that only mothers have the wisdom to recognize when their baby is not their baby anymore. Apollo himself is only able to see the changeling once he has physical proof. Only then is he “worthy” to join Emma in the fight against the monsters to get their son back. The major villain of the piece is a father who voluntarily sacrifices his own daughter for economic gain and then proceeds to stalk and harass his ex wife. Apollo's father was a deeply disturbed individual, while his mother is a heroic, hardworking, single mom.
Overall, I enjoyed this book and look forward to reading more of LaValle's work in the future.
“Go then, there are other worlds than these.”
I enjoyed most of this series, but unfortunately King lost me by the final book. The 2nd and Third books were my favorite, where we get to know the main characters and the mystery of the multiverse was built up.
It's just a shame that these stories promised so much and became so anticlimactic in the last book. My first problem is with King making himself a character in the series. A little too smart-ass meta for me. It wasn't really that kind of series. If it was intended to be surreal or funny that device might have worked but I didn't get that impression.
My second disappointment was Mordred. They spent so much time building up his conception and birth. He turns out to be a were-spider that lasts five seconds in a battle, mostly defeated by a dog-like pet. I love Oy but this was an unsatisfying turn of events. (King really loves giant insects.) I figured that with all the time spent setting up Mordred there would be a bit more of a conflict.
Unfortunately, because The Dark Tower was the conclusion, it really colors my impression of the entire Dark Tower series. Ah, well. I did enjoy it most of the time.
Ready Player One features a plot that borrows heavily from [b:Charlie and the Chocolate Factory|6310|Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Charlie Bucket, #1)|Roald Dahl|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1309211401l/6310.SY75.jpg|2765786] and [b:Snow Crash|40651883|Snow Crash|Neal Stephenson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1589842551l/40651883.SX50.jpg|493634], wrapped around multiple laundry lists of '80s pop-culture references.
I was an '80s kids, so the pop culture element was fun, but that's all there is to it.
I will give it this, it was better than the movie!
I wanted to like this. The setup of the two old magicians getting two proteges to compete to the death, all to prove their particular philosophy of magic had such promise. The descriptions of the circus itself were fantastic. I loved the parts with the three kids, the twins and their friend Bailey.
Unfortunately, I wound up disappointed with the execution of the contest and the story. As much as I appreciated the idea of the circus, having the two young competitors, Marco and Celia passively challenging each other with their creations from afar does not make for great conflict. Their romance feels forced and lacks chemistry.
In the end, despite their love story, Celia and Marco should have been compelled to fight to the death. These were the guidelines set up by the writer, but she doesn't follow through. The contest is settled by a third party who intervenes and Celia and Marco never have to make a real decision to either fight for their own life or to spare the other. They just drift off into a spirit world, happily ever after.
I was hoping for some tension and emotional/psychological stakes from this story. Certainly, the two older magicians, A.H. and Prospero could have faced some real consequences for putting these two young people in this position. There was a such a big build up that amounted to very little.
“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.”
The quote above says it all as far as the theme of this story. The events center around WWII but I think the idea could work in any time period. What strikes most about this book is the idea that we all fool ourselves into believing we're heroes in our own story.
As the main character and narrator of this story, Campbell doesn't do that. An American spy/Nazi propaganda writer, he knows he's done both good things and bad things and he can hold the contradiction in his mind. (He can't actually live with it, but that's a different problem.) This is in defiance of the other characters in the story who eliminate the thoughts from their mind that don't fit in with their goals, their life philosophy.
There is for example, O'Hare, the former soldier who captured “war criminal” Campbell the first time and who thinks all the troubles in his life will be solved if he just captures him again. There is also the white supremacist dentist, Jones, who truly believes in his hateful cause. Not coincidentally, Campbell thinks of this kind of “totalitarian madness” as tearing a tooth out of your head. The missing teeth “are simple, obvious truths, truths available and comprehensible even to ten-year-olds, in most cases.”
I enjoy Vonnegut's writing style. He has a dry sense of humor, the story moves along nicely, he doesn't overwrite, and yet the characters and scenes are vivid. The dialogue is entertaining and believable. The themes of the story are heavy and even dark, but Vonnegut tackles them with a clear and direct writing style.
“He wanted what evil men always want: to have power and use that power to make mischief.”
― Stephen King, The Eyes of the Dragon
Stephen King takes on the sword-and-sorcery variety fantasy novel. That's the best way to sum up this book. The plot is very clever. I enjoyed the way the hero and his allies solved the problem of getting him out of his prison. The solution is unexpected and made for a delightful story, with elements from earlier in the book coming into play.
I was less fond of the Randall Flagg character, (name and maybe character recycled from The Stand) who didn't seem to have a good reason for his evil plot. Yes, he wanted to create chaos in the kingdom just for the sake of seeing the destruction. It wasn't enough for me. None of the characters in this story are very complex I suppose, but I'm always expecting more from a Stephen King villain.
It's a fun, easy read that you can share with your kids.
“She was in college, a time of optimistic fascism when it seems that all the world needs is one more rally.”
Strange tale about a young man who is suffering from an undiagnosed mental illness. Many surreal and absurd incidents that happen in the otherwise realistic book make the reader wonder what is real and what is happening in Anthony's mind.
The main character is funny, intelligent, and sympathetic but sometimes repulsive. I rooted for him to get his life together, however unlikely this seemed. He does a lot of bizarre, cringe-worthy things. Yet, I found myself taking his side against his three equally crazy female relatives that he has to live with. These ladies put pressure on him to change his ways and could be put into the triple goddess archetype of “Mother, virgin, and crone.” Since I know LaValle as a fantasy/horror writer who doesn't miss a trick I'm sure this was intentional.
The end is left somewhat unresolved but this works fine. I can't imagine what kind of neat and tidy wrap-up would have worked here. Certainly, I cannot imagine that Anthony was going to seek any kind of help. It's just not that kind of story. This was a unique, clever, sad, and fantastic story that was worth reading.
The concept of The City & the City is the hero of this novel. Two cities, Beszel and Ul Qoma occupy the same physical space but are treated as two different geographical areas. Sometimes citizens of one city will see buildings, residents, events occurring in the other city but they are trained to ignore it. In fact, it is illegal to acknowledge or interact with anything from the other city.
Breaking this law is known as “breach.” There is an entire branch of law devoted to arresting and retraining citizens that commit this “crime.” That was the most fascinating part of The City & the City. It seems to me that making it illegal to acknowledge what your senses tell you is a kind of mental fascism, a 1984-ish thought police style of intellectual tyranny. The residents of the city have been indoctrinated to put up with ignoring or denying reality.
It took quite a while for me to get oriented as to what the arrangement of the two cities was and what it meant. In fact, if you read the book without reading the blurb on the back or any other synopsis material, you might be lost for several chapters.
The story is a murder mystery that incorporates the concept: a murder takes place in one city and the body is found in the other. However, the plot isn't that interesting as it plays out. It's surprisingly predictable coming from the mind of the writer who created such a wonderful premise. There aren't any especially memorable characters, even the lead investigator Borlu, isn't that well defined.