Sean
I read this and ... whatever it is that comes next. I almost enjoyed them. Unfortunately, there were two problems. One, the curious incident of the full moon rising at midnight. I actually stopped reading at that point. But worse, far far far worse, is the brutality-porn chapter in each. Goodkind just enjoyed that horror too much, and I didn't. I almost enjoyed them, but instead they wound up being on my “worst books I've ever read” list, and that is a very short list.
It's been a while since I read it, so I will not attempt a fuller review, but I will say that the plan of the book blew me away. I felt a teeny bit of awe at what the author had done.
I have read this book twice. Of the books I encountered after I hit maybe 18 years old, I have read very few more than once. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it until I read the reviews here on GR. I think I may been to read it yet again.
I got about a third of the way in and realized I was still waiting to find out why I would care about any of it, or even whether anything was happening.
This book, together with the Provensens' illustrations for [b:The Color Kittens 237346 The Color Kittens Margaret Wise Brown https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1420795657s/237346.jpg 2986158], is one of the main pillars upon which my idea of painterly beauty rests. Really, the Provensens spoiled me at a very young age. They influenced my whole aesthetic sense, and I am grateful to my mother for providing me such beauty, and for having done so deliberately.
The illustrations by the Provensens are part of the foundation of my ideas of beauty. The dream-pale rose tree still represents to me the highest ideal of beauty, an ideal which still lurks in the back of my aesthetic sense and colors all my judgments about beauty and desirability. I am grateful to my mother for deliberately giving me books of great artistic worth. This was one of the sillier of them, but of lasting importance.
The words are nice, but largely irrelevant.
It has been years since I read it, and since I was required to read it before entering high school I read it and wept. Most classics are classics because they are really good, even though I sometimes do not appreciate that goodness. Crusoe, on the other hand, is a classic because just enough high school English literature curriculum writers are sadistic. We hates them.
Beautiful. I read it in Spanish; if I had rad the English, which would have been easier for me, I probably would have cried a tear or two.
I read this long ago and no longer remember it well enough to write a meaningful review, but I know that it is set in Shelton, Washington, and that made it a lot of fun.
This is the small dictionary I have used for years. It is convenient and almost adequate for my needs, unless it is some odd late Medieval Ecclesiastical word or something similar I am looking for, and in that case I have no right expecting to find the word outside a specialized lexicon.
The most important bit of writing the human race has ever produced. Especially if you omit the introduction and ending which were added on later.
Although I think this story betrayed a few signs of hasty writing which have not been evident in the earlier books, it is nevertheless enjoyable and a meaningful part of the ongoing story.
I liked it. I didn't love it, but I liked it. At one point (I do not remember where I was in the book), I found myself thinking, “Wait, this shouldn't be in the children's area; it should be cataloged for adults.” I went so far as to check another library system's catalog to see where they had it. And then I re-read the page I was on and could not figure out why it was so un-childish, but the impression remained.
It's the real deal. In a world full “Celtic twilight,” those of us who believe that authentic Celtic-style Christianity has something real and important to say, can feel a little bit drowned in fluff. this book of translations of source material is a refreshing oasis. I especially like the translation of The Alphabet of Devotion.
I know there are those who say I should not like this book because of the author's backward views of some matters, but it is one of the best books I have ever read. I love it.
Hitchens is to atheist science-ists what C. S. Lewis is to American Evangelical Christians.
There; I got it out of my system. I've been wanting to write that sentence for a long time, but never had an excuse.
I read this book and pretty much hated it. As I have done so often in the past, I tried reading one of the “new atheists” in the hopes of finding calm, dispassionate, unemotional discourse. Instead, I find petulance and nastiness take over, just like when I read any kind of fundamentalist, whether it be Christian, Islamic, liberal, feminist, American exceptionalist, or whatever. Fundamentalism is fundamentalism, and Hitchens is as fundamentalist as they come.
Here is the biggest problem: Given the author and subject, the book practically writes itself. I don't think he is capable of putting himself into another person's mind and seeing the world from any perspective but his own narrow fundamentalism. If I had made up some details, I could have written a near word-for-word parody of the book without having even read it.
Quite enjoyable because of the interplay between the author's normal horror genre and the cuteness of the cats and the quotidianity of the actions depicted.
Creepy, but no gore so I could handle it. (I have a very week stomach and just can't handle blood.) This had psychological suspense and moody atmosphere, and I enjoyed reading it.