Imi

I don't think I would have finished this if I hadn't been given a review copy, and if I'm being completely honest, I pretty much skim read most of it after the half way point. The premise sounded fascinating, set in a post-apocalyptic near future America, hit by droughts and climate change. I was completely taken in by the synopsis, and so was hoping for something similar to [a:Margaret Atwood 3472 Margaret Atwood https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1282859073p2/3472.jpg]'s speculative science fiction series, MaddAddam. Sadly, this did absolutely nothing for me. Watkins must have been trying to create something edgy and unique, but in my opinion it all came together as a tedious, repetitive mess. The narrative structure and writing style was choppy and confusing, jumping between the main storyline and extracts from random documents, checklists and articles, which would have really taken me out of the story, if there had been much of one. The repetitive checklists (lists of random words going on for pages), in particular had seemingly no purpose other than adding to the overall word count. (On a side note, one of the documents, which included drawings, was really terribly formatted, meaning I had to skim many pages on my kindle to read less than a line of text. Hopefully, that will have been fixed in the final retail ebook edition though). None of the characters, dialogue or circumstances seemed believable, and most of the “science” seemed completely bizarre, verging on fantasy. I didn't find anything about any of the characters, Luz, Ray, Ig or any members of the wacky cult, striking or interesting. I was especially disappointed by the characterisation of Luz, the protagonist. SpoilerHer passive, hero worship of the main male characters got old fast, and I don't understand if this was meant to be some kind of critique on expectations of gender, but it was painful/dull to read and done pretty poorly if it was.Maybe there was some interesting ideas buried away here, but this novel was too trying on my patience for me to pay much notice.

I feel utterly privileged to have been able to read this book. Of course, a memoir about a husband's illness and eventual death from a brain tumour is by no means an easy read. It's personal, intimate and passionate, everything a memoir like this should be. But Coutts manages to create something that is more than just a touching personal memoir, but also a truly special tribute both to her husband and to her own bravery. This memoir has a striking and beautiful, lyrical writing style, that powerfully conveys the terrible and inevitable, the surreal unbelievability of the situation, which all the same is surrounded by the normal, domestic life that Coutts must keep going despite everything:

“Maintaining the thinnest facade of a functioning family that tries to act as others do - plan ahead, drive somewhere, go on holiday, relax - is beyond us. We are smashed. Insecurity jams the gears on every action. Each time we are toppled. I feel a fool over and over again for trying.”

Read as part of the Winter LTWF group read.

My rating for this falls somewhere between 3 and 4 stars. Dana, a young black woman from the 1970s, time travels back to the 19th century, forced to help save the life of her white ancestor, who will grow up to be a slave master. Dana witnesses the lives of her ancestors, both black and white, and is also forced to endure the horrors of this time herself. Despite centring on such a dark and complex theme as slavery, this book was surprisingly easy to read. The story is gripping and very well paced, and it was nerve-racking waiting to find out if Dana could get herself out of danger, and help those around her. While I enjoyed the plot and its readability, I also can't help feeling much of the book seemed oversimplified. There are several inconstancies and unanswered questions, and right from the start I found Dana's narration very flat. Although I appreciated the relationships between Dana and Alice, Dana and Kevin, and even Dana and Rufus (Spoileralthough the disappointing ending kind of ruined that one for me), I still think all the characters could have done with a bit more depth. Worth a read for a fantastic concept, interesting themes on social issues in the past and present, and enthralling plot, but I needed a little more to really love this.

Having only just turned the last page, all I can be sure of is that this is certainly one of the best books I have ever read. What a fantastic way to end/start the year!

The Shipping News begins in New York, where Quoyle, a lonely, sad, awkward, and unattractive man, who always does the wrong thing, fails to find much success in any part of his life. After a rapid series of tragic events, Quoyle and his small family, his two young daughters and aunt, decide to move to their ancestral home in Newfoundland. The majority of the novel centres on the lives of the isolated community who live in this cold, bleak place. The detail and depth to all the characters is remarkable, and the story itself is one of humanity and the pursuit of happiness. Quoyle begins the book as not the most endearing of characters, but as the book moved along my heart literally ached with sympathy for him, as he struggles to overcome his feelings of defeat and self-contempt, and eventually learns that he is allowed to be happy, to love without pain.

From the very first page, I knew I was in for something special. The prose is exquisite thanks to Proulx's unique method of using short sentence fragments. The writing seems to flow in this most remarkable way, that demands the reader to slow down and savour every word. So much information and detail is packed into just a few words, so I can see the reward of re-reading this novel many times to come. She also has a wonderful, dark sense of humour, that perfectly captures the personalities of this quirky collection of characters, their strange peculiarities, and darkest secrets. Finally, the novel ends on the most perfect final sentence. There is really not much more to say about life.

Something about this seemed off to me and it never really clicked. I'm not sure if it's the characters and the fact that I never really engaged with them, or if it was the writing style, which seemed strangely passive. The only characters I really felt I gained any understanding about were Lily and Sebastien, while the motives and characteristics of the others felt a lot more vague, which is strange considering the novel was told through multiple points of views. Lily and Sebastien are both very unlikeable, but this made sense and demonstrates how any particular ‘oddness' can be perceived as suspicious in such circumstances even if there are completely innocent reasons for them. Simply, by the end of the book I didn't feel much interest in the outcome, and I'm not really sure if that's more about me than the book.

I am going to call this a 3.5. This novel is by no means perfect and I wouldn't recommend it for everyone, but I found it immensely moving and very readable. If you're the kind of reader who enjoys classic stories about bravery, love, family and friendship, then I'd recommend you give this a try. The novel follows the lives of two heroic sisters who risk everything to help the French Resistance save countless live during WWII. The book really shines at demonstrating the strength of friendship and love between family members during time of crisis. I'd be lying if I said I didn't shed a few tears towards the end of the novel. However, this is also clearly fiction, which makes it difficult to recommend to people who want their historical fiction to be reasonably accurate. A few events relating to the war seemed slightly simplified, there were a few too many coincidences and I noticed a few points in the plots that seemed to contradict events of earlier chapters, or maybe it was that they contradicted what I already knew about the events of WWII in France. Either way, it was enough to take me out of the moment for a second, but of course I was so absorbed in the story and cared so much about the characters, that this didn't stop me reading and enjoying the novel all together. Overall this is a beautiful, human tale and one I'm very glad I read.

Honestly, I can't say I enjoyed reading this much. I have no idea why I read to the end, especially as it was one of my 2015 reading resolutions to quit more books that I wasn't enjoying, so I can read more books that I will enjoy, but I guess I've still got to work on this resolution in 2016. This is why my “abandoned-or-should-have” shelf is so much bigger than my “did-not-finish” shelf...

Anyway, so why didn't this work for me? It's kind of ironic that for a book about the “power of language”, the fact that “words” do have influence, the writing is so limited and poor, the characters barely formed and the dialogue painful. Everyone is “badass” and says “f**k this or that”, and really the characters are barely differentiated. Not to mention, all these “powerful” words that can influence others are complete gobbledygook (vrtkfdhl dkhgslh dj basically), so this is not the study of language that the premise promised. The author even tried to explain how these nonsense words are not “magic” words, because it's all so much more serious and complicated than that. Um...no. Nothing about the book is developed or coherent in any way. The secret organisation is laughable and without any apparent purpose. The actions scenes, a mass of chases basically, were ridiculous and a drag right from the very first page. The plot itself is aimless and built on plotholes. If it couldn't get any worse, there are also terrible sex scenes (why have I read so many books this year filled with bad sex scenes?! Someone needs to start warning me before I pick the books up!) and an icky love story. To sum up, it's a silly, incoherent mess and I really should have just quit.

I Remember You is a chilling, suspenseful ghost story, written in the style of a Scandinavian thriller. The plot is built several strange, seemingly unrelated mysteries, which are slowly uncovered and investigated by a psychiatrist, named Freyr, in the town of Isafjördur; the disappearances of two children decades apart, a peculiar suicide of an elderly woman and the mysterious vandalism of a school. There is so much going on in this book, including numerous revelations and twists to keep the plot speeding along, and the connections between all these strange happenings are cleverly done. The story and the links between these different people and places are very complicated, and although I'd guessed a few of the revelations by the end, most of the twists were surprising and immensely satisfying. However, at its core, this novel is an atmospheric and tense ghost story, one without any unnecessary gore, and the most terrifying scenes take place far from Isafjördur, in a haunted house in an isolated village of Hesteyri. Yes, Sigurðardóttir uses pretty much every horror cliché imaginable (haunted house, creepy giggling children, strange noises in the night...), but that didn't matter, as I felt that the supernatural element was so well done. I was constantly on edge reading this. Think twice before reading this before bedtime! I haven't enjoyed reading a book as much as this in a long time, and this would have been an easy 5 stars, if not for my slight disappointment of the characterisation of one character in particular, SpoilerLíf. I couldn't help finding the treatment of her character a little heavy-handed, as it seemed so obvious that the reader wasn't meant to like her, and this made her connection in Freyr's story and her ending much more predictable than the rest of the revelations. I found her character frustrating the whole way through (not that she was the idiot Katrín seemed to think she was. In fact sometimes her actions made a whole lot more sense than Katrín's...), mostly because I liked the other characters so much and I could see that Líf was only there because she was meant to be some kind of plot device later on. Well, I was right about that, but it was frustrating that she was indirectly blamed for certain things, just because she was attractive woman that Freyr or any man could never be expected to resist and not have an affair with. Of course. It's a shame because her character could have been really interesting, what with her manipulative nature, her apparent murder of her husband and attempted murder of Katrín, but things didn't turn out that way. Really that's one minor complaint though, as the rest of it was utterly fantastic, making this one of the most enjoyable books I've read all year. Highly recommended!

Strangely, the complaints I had with this are very similar to those I've had with many books I've read this year; in short, that I loved one half of the book, but the found the other lacking or at odds with the rest of the book. I really enjoyed the first half of Princess Bari, which tells the story of a young girl growing up in North Korea, during the time of the great famine of the 1990s. Bari is the seventh daughter of a couple desperate to have a son, and was named after a princess from one of the stories her grandmother likes to tell. Along with the moving portrayal of the harsh realities for this people in this time, in this part of the book there is also a very slight supernatural/magical realist element to the plot, both through the folk tales Bari's grandmother tells, and through Bari's own dreams and experiences as well, as it turns out she has a gift which means she can communicate with dead spirits and see the past lives of people around her. This half of the story is rich and beautifully done. Unfortunately, a major event in Bari's life, sends the story in a whole new direction, Spoileras Bari migrates to London. The theme of Spoilermigration could have been very interesting to explore, but I felt the execution wasn't as tight as in the first half of the book. This half seemed strangely rushed, underdeveloped and dull in comparison. Furthermore, the magical realist elements become more important towards the end, Spoileras Bari believes it is her destiny to follow the life of her namesake, and her dreams become a larger focus and increasingly more bizarre. This may just be my own personal taste, however, as I prefer when magical realist books are more firmly routed in reality than in the fantastical elements. Sadly, the ending left me feeling unsatisfied.

I'm pretty certain if this book was any longer I wouldn't have finished it. Saying that, it's strange that for such a short book, my main thought was that it needed a damn good edit. A short story may have worked, but as a novel it did nothing for me. There were some interesting ideas somewhere underneath all the waffle, but the execution was flawed and overall reading this was a bit of a drag. Many parts of the book turned out to be largely unnecessary to the only interesting part of the story, the crux of the ghost story, that happened right in the very last chapters and seemed to be more of undeveloped plot device, not the overall focus. The paranormal elements were laughable and unbelievable really, which is a shame because the history the ghost story was based on would have actually been really interesting to explore. The ramblings protagonist/narrator's rambling irked me from the start, but got progressively worse throughout, and even he admits many times that basically he can't understand why he acted in certain ways, which leads me to believe these actions was all the author could come up with to move the story along. In short, not one I'll be recommending.

This was a lot darker than I was expecting, and a dark fairy tale based on Eastern European folklore is definitely something I can get excited about. The world building and setting was really magnificent, and my favourite part of the novel was without a doubt The Wood, which was much more than just a setting, but a whole character in itself, a villain, that our heroine, Agnieszka, must battle against. This Wood is not somewhere you want to find yourself bumbling into by mistake. It's terrifying, creepy and atmospheric. The Wood literally changes people, destroying their humanity, until there's nothing left of the person that existed before.

“We didn't know what happened to them, but they came back out sometimes, corrupted in the worst way: smiling and cheerful, unharmed. They seemed almost themselves to anyone who didn't know them well, and you might spend half a day talking with one of them and never realize anything was wrong, until you found yourself taking up a knife and cutting off your own hand, putting out your own eyes, your own tongue, while they kept talking all the while, smiling, horrible. And then they would take the knife and go inside your house, to your children, while you lay outside blind and choking and helpless even to scream.”

“I was a glaring blot on the perfection. But I didn't care: I didn't feel I owed him beauty.”

At the beginning of the novel, I was instantly enchanted by this imaginative, dystopian world. The first half of the novel is set in either a future or an alternate London, but one that is very different to our own. In this London, technology has vanished, people have lost the ability to preserve their memories, meaning they forget almost everything that happened more than a day ago, and the written word has also disappeared. In this society, it's music that has become the overriding force, the tool of everyday life, and is used for everything: conversations, directions, even for control of the population by the totalitarian ‘Order'. Smaill creatively mixes everyday language with musical terminology, for example: presto, lento, tacet, cadence. I had a little knowledge of some of the terminology already, and also as a language student I'm quite good at working out the meaning of unknown words through context, but this may be more challenging for some. The effect is breathtaking though, so I really recommend you persevere. This evocative first half perfectly sets the scene for the rest of the novel and I could truly visualise this world, a world that's both beautiful and repulsive.

However, at this point, the plot has not even begun, and it's only in the second half that the story starts to shift. Unfortunately, I felt the intrigue and beauty of the first half almost completely disappeared, as the plot takes the route of a more traditional adventure dystopian novel. I've just read that the author thought this was going to be marketed as YA when she wrote this, and that makes a lot of sense actually. You've read this plot a hundred times before. A young man (an orphan) has a gift and must use it to reach the centre of a totalitarian regime in order to destroy and restore the freedom of the people. This unoriginal plot isn't even done particularly well, with the vast majority of the plot being in the last say quarter of the novel, meaning it's very rushed. I'm disappointed as the first half was such a good set up and so much could have been done with the plot, world and characters (as it is there was little to no character development), but none of this materialised.

In some ways this was a pleasant surprise, but it's not without flaws. There was some really exquisite parts to this novel and a lot I liked, but sadly most of that was in the first half. It's almost like Smaill wrote the book she felt she should be writing in the second half, while the first half was the book that was begging to be written. The two contrasting halves make it hard to recommend, because I'd like to recommend the first half to different people, than I'd recommend the second half to. The second half is very much for those who really enjoy the YA adventure/dystopian genre, but that seems so at odds with a lot of what I loved from the first half.

I was really excited to get the chance to read this before the publication date. It's also not so long since I read the first in the series, [b:You 20821614 You (You, #1) Caroline Kepnes https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1411958102s/20821614.jpg 39913517], which I had my problems with, but overall found super addictive and surprisingly original for a book in a very saturated genre, so my expectations and hopes were high for the sequel. Unfortunately, I don't think Hidden Bodies lived up to the first book in the series. It was still compelling, and I still immensely enjoyed reading it, but there was a lot that stopped me from loving it.I am going to put my thoughts under a spoiler cut, as I will be discussing plot points and spoilers.SpoilerThe Positive:- Like I said an immensely compelling, fast-paced and enjoyable read.- I really loved how connected the two novels are and that the events in You are still really important in this book. In fact my favourite parts of this novel all involved Joe's anxiety on his past crimes being discovered. The fact that he has Google Alerts on Beck, Dr. Nicky and Benji was brilliant, and it really built the tension any time it looked like someone was on to him. I guess what I really wanted from this novel was for Joe to face the consequences of his actions...but then come up with some sneaky way of getting out of it.The Negatives:- Most of the plot was completely ridiculous, to the point where I had to completely suspend disbelief. Now, of course, You wasn't that realistic either, in fact that was one of my criticisms of it, but Hidden Bodies takes it to another level. Yes, I want twists and turns in my thrillers, but there is a limit where it just becomes laughable and I think this novel just about crossed it at points. Joe gets out of sticky situations through way too many exceedingly convenient circumstances and never has to face any consequences for anything he does. Honestly, I really want to see how Joe would deal with getting caught. That would be really interesting, in my opinion, seeing the process from the killer's eyes. I want him to squirm and things to get sticky. He had it too easy in this book. Of course, that might be coming in the next book, considering the ending, but even then Joe mentioned that the police only had him on “circumstantial” evidence. Um, what? Joe has killed so many people now, I refuse to believe that the police could all be that useless. They would definitely have more than just circumstantial evidence by now. (On a side note, I was cheering for Officer Nico. I thought he was great in You too!)- I missed the second POV from You. It was so well done and brilliantly creepy, seeing events from the perspective of a stalker in that way, and was part of what made the book so original. However, I get why it couldn't have been used in the sequel. - You was a lot funnier, in my opinion. There was so much black humour, but I didn't find myself chuckling quite as much in this one. I think it might be because...- ...there was too much of a focus on Hollywood and shallow rich people in this book. You was much more focussed on the ridiculousness of modern life. Hollywood just isn't interesting to me, and because of this somewhere in the middle (when Joe lives with these people for a summer, and everything is peachy keen) things really started to drag.- I was disappointed with the lack of Amy. From the end of You, when she uses the stolen credit card, and even right at the start of this book, it looks like Joe has met his match, but then this plotline completely fizzled out.- I liked Love on the whole, although I think her character was underdeveloped and a lot of her actions unbelievable. This opinion was only strengthened towards the end of the book, when Love decides to stay with Joe despite learning his true colours. I was so disappointed in her character at that point. Like I said I really wanted Joe to suffer the consequences, and furthermore it seems completely impossible that any sane women with any interest in her own safety would not run right then...and she had the perfect chance to do just that. The build-up to Joe telling Love everything was so good, and then it all ended in anti-climax. I'll reserve full judgement on Love until the next book though. Hopefully, she betrays him or something.I'll still most definitely be reading the next in the series, whenever it comes out, but my expectations won't be quite as high as they were for this one.

The 3 books I've read so far by Valente ([b:Deathless 8694389 Deathless (Leningrad Diptych, #1) Catherynne M. Valente https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1316635864s/8694389.jpg 10733651], [b:The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making 9591398 The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making (Fairyland, #1) Catherynne M. Valente https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1388179691s/9591398.jpg 6749837] from her children's series, and now this) have made one thing undeniably clear: her ideas are awe-inspiring, fabulous and completely unique. I'm not sure that many other contemporary fantasy/sci-fi authors are coming up with ideas full of such imagination and wonder as her. This incredibly ambitious novel features perhaps her most original and intriguing premise yet, but sadly the confused narrative style and intentional lack of explanation meant that at parts this was simply a disjointed, frustrating, incoherent mess. I loved the universe Valente has created, once I'd finally wrapped my head around it, but it took me way too long to get to that point (over half way through I'd say). Sadly, I feel this universe was very much underutilised by the end, and if Valente had been a bit less ambiguous with her style and more willing to give a few slightly more straightforward explanations, she could have done a lot more with the fabulous Solar System she's invented. I also loved the mystery (or mysteries) centred in the plot, again once I'd finally worked out there was a mystery to solve, but again it took too long to get there. Thank goodness for the chronology at the front of the book, because I had to keep looking at that to keep in check the order of events. I wish there had been something similar for characters, because again I kept getting them confused. I'd still highly recommend this to sci-fi fans, but only if you don't mind being confused throughout and even after you finish reading. Everything (plot, style, world-building, the reality vs magic of the movies thing that was going on...) was too complex and something needed to give to create a truly coherent novel. For me personally, I think the reason why the first book of Valente's children series has been my favourite of her work (that I've read) so far, is because I prefer it when she is less ambiguous and tones down her style slightly. Both this and Deathless, despite the fact that I really appreciated their wonderful premises, left me slightly overwhelmed.

English Title: [b:There Once Lived a Woman Who Tried to Kill Her Neighbor's Baby: Scary Fairy Tales 6490566 There Once Lived a Woman Who Tried to Kill Her Neighbor's Baby Scary Fairy Tales Ludmilla Petrushevskaya https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1395002383s/6490566.jpg 6681958]I can't say I'd recommend this collection as a whole, but there are a few gems that are well worth a read. There are a lot of stories crammed in, as most are very short, but many also focus on very similar themes and events, which meant either that each story was rather predictable or that, if you read them one after another, it's very easy to get them confused. I tried to read the whole collection slowly, so I could distinguish between each of them, but despite my efforts I've forgotten many of the stories already. Not all the stories were like this, however, and these were the stories that really stood out for me:“Месть” (Revenge): This story is about being consumed by hate and features the collection's title.“Гигиена” (Hygiene): I think this was the longest story of the collection? At least, it felt like it much more development than many of the stories. The story focuses on family, who confine themselves to their apartment to protect themselves from a highly contagious epidemic. It's the perfect mix of suspense, character development and social commentary.“В дом кто-то есть” (There's Someone in the House): This was probably my favourite of the whole collection. A woman, who lives on her own with her cat, believes there is some kind of poltergeist haunting her flat, and so she starts destroying all her possessions to get rid of it. Simply wonderful! SpoilerI loved how hopeful the ending was, especially in comparison with the rest of the collection.“Черное пальто” (Black Coat): A really chilling story to end the collection and another one that focussed on the theme that Spoilerliving is a choice. Although this one was more plainly about suicide.On the basis of these stories above, I would really like to read more of Petrushevskaya's work. They prove that she has some fantastic ideas, and her style is very easy to read and to-the-point. Perfect for someone like me, a non-native speaker reading these in the original Russian. The language level of these stories was just right for me, so I could really appreciate the writing and enjoy the stories themselves. However, my rating reflects the fact that I don't think the collection was that well put together, and many of the stories were utterly forgettable and completely outshined by those I've listed above.

A disappointment despite the intriguing subject matter. I was excited to read about this period from a new perspective, but this didn't work for me.

The violence seemed overly gratuitous and graphic in parts (particularly in the first half). Of course, when I picked this up, I was expecting to read about the horrors of war, but I don't think the author handled the subject very well. I understand these atrocities really happened, but it seemed like Bohjalian felt he had cram in as many of them as he possibly could in the novel, in minute detail, whether it fit in with the narrative or not. I think the novel would have made more of an impact if the author had chosen to be more focused. As it was I didn't find much of the novel very convincing.

I was interested in most of the characters at the beginning, but there was a definite lack of character development throughout, despite all that happened, that made it difficult to truly believe in them. The epilogue in particular was very strange.

Also this included a few really awkward sex scenes. This is a problem I seem to have had with many books I've read this year (really, why does this keep happening?!), so maybe I'm just less patient than I used to be with badly written descriptions of sex, but come on that scene Spoilerunder the Northern Lights was ridiculous.

This was a quick read, but not as creepy or thought-provoking as I was hoping for. In fact I didn't find it creepy at all until the very last page (I did like that ending!). The novel is very much YA, narrated by Yasmin, a troubled 15 year old, who becomes convinced that a stranger she's seen near her school is about to kidnap her classmate. I found it very difficult to be at all convinced by Yasmin's suspicions. Yasmin is naive, irrational, and irresponsible, all understandably because of the personal issues she is facing, but that made it hard to be invested in the plot when the conclusions she was making seemed so unlikely or the decisions she made so reckless. And this is very much a plot-driven novel, because through Yasmin's words all the characters seem very bland and passive, most likely because Yasmin at this stage in her life is struggling to connect and communicate with anyone around her. It's understandable why she sees the world like this, but it makes for a rather uninteresting read when she becomes so obsessed with certain characters (after the slightest sign of affection, due to her loneliness) who to the reader seem lifeless and dull. It's not very satisfying when clearly there is a lot of potential depth in these characters that would never be uncovered with Yasmin as a narrator. Not for me. I guess as I wanted more depth and mystery, but one I'd recommended others try if they're more into YA and the perspective of an unhappy teenager.

Despite moments of utter brilliance, overall I have slightly mixed feelings about this. I was very interested when I heard that this is a story of marriage from two perspectives: first the husband's perspective in ‘Fates', and then the wife's in ‘Furies'. I loved the structure and premise, but sadly this wasn't the poignant examination of marriage that I was hoping for. Yes, a marriage built on secrets, but these secrets felt less complex than I wanted and the plot lacked credibility. The only way I can describe this is that it felt almost like a ‘shock-factor' thriller (melodramatic plot twists and secrets that didn't always make complete sense) disguised as a literary novel (dense prose with bizarre, convoluted metaphors and references to Greek mythology).

I was surprised to find that I preferred the first half (Fates) to the second. While I'd agree with other reviewers that ‘Furies' was much faster paced and therefore easier to read, I liked the slow, plodding tone of ‘Fates' and Lotto's character and story felt much more believable (and even then I still had to suspend disbelief couple of times). Above all I could visualise Lotto, the failed actor and breakout playwright, as a real, flawed person. He is like a pampered puppy, desperate for universal praise and attention, a typical privileged white male found in creative circles. I've met and spoken to people like this. My favourite aspect of the whole novel was the dissection of Lotto's desire to be an artist, his frenzied need to create, and to be appreciated, and as a result his total disconnect with reality.

By the end of ‘Fates', I was so excited to have Mathilde's take on events. I was unsurprised that Spoilershe was the woman behind the genius and that she had secrets:

“Great swaths of her life were white space to her husband. What she did not tell him balanced neatly with what she did. Still, there are untruths made of words and untruths made of silences, and Mathilde had only ever lied to Lotto in what she never said.”

Unfortunately, the two halves were less alternating perspectives of the same events, than completely different stories. I wanted Mathilde's perspective on her marriage and their relationship, but instead most of ‘Furies' involved introducing new and external shocking revelations, including more uncomfortable and skeevy sex, that seemed completely disconnected from ‘Fates'. Marriage is already a great and complex theme, without all the rest of the unnecessary ridiculousness that Groff seemed compelled to include. SpoilerI really, really hated the subplot with Ariel. It was too much and made me feel horribly uncomfortable. But worse I didn't see the point of it all. My favourite parts of ‘Furies' were the parts examining grief and involving Lotto's family. I thought Antoinette was a very interesting character, the bitter and manipulating mother-in-law, and I was interested in how Lotto's narcissism and self-indulgence may have originated from his mother's adoration. I wanted more focus on her and less on Chollie (his character is the worst without any redeeming qualities) and Mathilde, once I realised she was pretty much just a caricature. I didn't understand Mathilde's self-hatred or her motivations, or why she compelled to live through her husband. Why did she choose Lotto when she could have been so more than his wife in the background? Ultimately, Mathilde's story left me cold. Skimming through the reviews, however, I think I am very much in the minority in preferring Lotto's half to Mathilde's.

There was still a lot I liked despite my disappointment in the direction of the plot. The prose took some getting used to and although I think it was trying too hard at times, trying to be “literary”, most of the time I loved it and found it beautiful. I loved the way Groff structured the slow reveals, held back the thoughts and deficiencies of the characters, before revealing them to the reader one at a time. I loved the narrator's snide side-comments on the characters' thoughts. I can't help thinking Groff was too ambitious and if she'd been a bit more focussed (and honestly toned down the amount of uncomfortable sex scenes), then I might have been able to love this.

Usually I really struggle when rating short story collections, because of course they'll be certain stories in the collection that you like more or less than others, perhaps with only one standout story, the rest being easily forgotten. However, in Angela Carter's collection of re-imagined fairy tales everything single story has something to offer and there is no doubt in my mind that this deserves 5 stars. Even though I obviously have my favourites, the quality is so high throughout and for me this collection was near perfect.

Carter's playful use of language and stunning imagery astounded me, and sometimes I had to stop just to read a sentence out loud, the language is so exquisite. I already want to go back and reread the whole collection, as there's so much going on here underneath the surface, that I can tell you'd find something new every time you read them. Of course this probably won't be everyone; there is a huge focus on sex, sexuality, even menstruation and violence etc., but personally I loved how this showed a different perspective on the classic fairy tales and that Carter managed to subvert the passive role of women in fairy tales in such a powerful way. These heroines are no where near passive and their monstrous, gruesome side is shown without restraint. It's not pretty, often sickening, but this ugly truth about the world and growing up resonates much more deeply with me than any meaning or message found in the modern idea of “fairy-tale”.

My favourites: The Bloody Chamber (Who needs Prince Charming when your bad-ass mother can save the day...on horse-back!), The Erl-King (I don't recognise this fairy tale at all but this was spectacular. The prose is so god damn beautiful!), The Lady of the House of Love (I really can't believe I was so captivated by a vampire story, when I'm so sick of anything vampire related. This was everything most modern vampire fiction is not.), The Werewolf and The Company of Wolves (Both entirely different interpretations of Little Red Riding Hood).

The Crane Wife is a modern retelling of a Japanese folktale that simply didn't work for me. Although I am unfamiliar with the original folktale, it seems that what Ness has tried to do here, instead of simply retelling the tale in a modern setting, is create two parallel plots, the main one closer to ‘reality' and the other alternating plot closer to the fantastical fairy tale. Magical realism can be very difficult to get right and unfortunately for this novel the distinction between the real and fantastical elements blurred so much towards the end, without any proper development or explanation, that I was left utterly confused. I have no clue how some of the ‘real' characters corresponded with their fantastical counterparts.

However, even before this muddled ending, the novel was struggling to reach my expectations. Firstly, I had problems with most of the characters. George, the main protagonist, is a typical, annoying nice guy™, in other words one of those guys who expects to be rewarded by women for their “niceness”. But most disappointingly was Kumiko, the ‘crane' of the story. She was really never developed as a character at all other than being “mysterious” and “alluring”. It just seems really suspect to me that a female, Japanese character's only purpose is to be a mystery to the main white guy. I don't know if Ness was predicting this kind of criticism when he wrote this exchange between George and another POC character:

Mehmet: “This isn't some mysterious allure of the East thing you've got with this woman, is it? Because I'd find that, like, amazingly offensive.”George: “You're from the East, Mehmet, and I find you neither mysterious nor alluring.”

I'm sad this wasn't around when I was 12 years old, because I would have lapped this series up. No matter, because even at 21 I found this delightful. It's pretty much the perfect children's book: fantastical, creative and individual. The wealth of extraordinary magical creatures, most of which are just downright silly, makes this a fun and engaging read. Perhaps my favourite aspect of the book, however, is the fact that the main characters are female. I needed more fantasy YA/children books like this, really. I want to discuss how brilliantly Valante makes fun of many fairy tale conventions, but I can already feel myself falling asleep as I write this, so just let me tell you I loved it all.

An intriguing premise and a fantastic opening sequence, but maybe I am just too cynical for everything that followed. I think above all I was disappointed by the character development. Considering this unusual group of characters are locked up together for 6 months, I was suspecting some surprises, conflicts or something... Instead I don't feel that I really understood many of the characters' motives or behaviours, and the improbable love stories all felt contrived and forced. There was also no other way the novel could have ended. It was predictable, but tragic and had to happen sooner or later otherwise the book would have gone on forever. I would have been reasonably satisfied with this ending, but then Patchett decided to write a sort-of epilogue and I really wish she hadn't. It was unnecessary, unbelievable and really a bit laughable. Still, parts of the book were wonderful: Fyodorov's story of his grandmother, Thibault longing for his wife, Father Arguedas' feeling of duty and of course the reason for the president's absence from the party (brilliant!). Maybe if there had been more focus on these thoroughly more believable secondary characters than on Coss and Hosokawa's relationship, then I would have liked this a lot more.

A really fantastic resource and a great starting point for anyone interested in modern Russian literature and what the Russian literary landscape looks like today. Although classic Russian literature is widely discussed, I've been a little stuck on where to start for contemporary authors, which are far less well known, at least outside of Russia. This “mini-guide” did exactly what it said on the tin and now I have a long list (or well, goodreads shelf) of modern authors to look out for. In addition, this isn't just a long list of book recommendations, as Ryzhakov also considers the context and background of the themes found in post-Soviet literature. I don't think I'd be interested in reading all of Ryzhakov's recommendations, but as he splits the chapters by genre and aims to discuss is good variety of books, there should be something for everyone here.

This is an uncomplicated novel, but one that felt realistic and true to life. The novel follows the lives during one summer of various members of the community in a small town in New Hampshire. Above all the novel's themes are finding a sense of identity, a purpose in life and discovering the meaning of “home”. A few of the characters are unhappy, or at least unsure, about the paths their lives are taking.

One of these characters includes Frankie, a forty-something year old, who has just returned from a career in aids work in Kenya. She's unsure on whether she ever wants to return to that life, but still wants to “make a difference”. At times, Frankie is certainly a self-centered character, treating those around her unfairly as she strives for a better or more meaningful life.

Meanwhile, Frankie's mother, Sylvia, is tormented by her husband deteriorating health, but also by guilt as she feels that she will only care for her husband in his ageing state due to a sense of a duty rather than any true feelings of love. This is a moving subplot that questions whether a relationship can be made better this late on.

All these personal struggles are a set against a backdrop class conflict between members of the small town community: the “summer people” (temporary, wealthy and privileged resident i.e. those who “have”) and the permanent residents (i.e. those who “don't have”). The novel questions whether it is right to demand more from life, and suggests that although life may never be perfect, sometimes it is important to appreciate what you do the have. Nevertheless, the ending, while hopeful, shows that some people may never be completely satisfied and perhaps this leads to a fairly unresolved conclusion, but then who has ever found complete closure at every point of their lives?

The arsons add a little unease to an otherwise sleepy rural town and symbolise a connecting theme to each of the personal dramas faced by the characters, but the arsonist is not the main focus of the novel, despite its title. Don't go into this expecting a mystery and to find out who is behind the crimes, as that really isn't what the book is about and you may be left disappointed.

However, if you are interested in domestic fiction that prioritises slowly, but well-developed characters over an intricate plot, then The Arsonist could work for you.

Torn on this one. On the one hand, it was a 5 star read pretty much the whole way through. I loved this family and all the characters were so full of life. But the ending absolutely crushed me and not necessarily in a good way. It was too much for me. I think I found the tone too jarring and contrasting. Most of the book is full of hope and love, but then there are the horrific violent acts Spoilercommitted on children including the rape at the end. I mean there was violence throughout the novel, but it was the scene at the end that really pushed it over the edge for me. It was just too much. Shame because I loved the rest of it so, so much and truly felt for these characters.

By the way, I'd still highly recommend this. Maybe it will be easier to stomach if you go in a bit more forewarned about the violence than I was?

Maybe I'll write a full review on this later, but those are my immediate thoughts on finishing. OK I'm going to go and cry my eyes out now.