Nourez Rawji
The Song of Achilles has been sitting in my TBR for nearly 10 years. The Iliad has been a favourite of mine for as long as I can remember, and I recall this adaptation getting rave reviews. But for years, I ignored it, assuming it was another case of the internet being obsessed with yet another overhyped book. I could not have been more wrong. The Song of Achilles deserves every bit of praise that it's received since it was published. At its core, it's an extended reimagining of The Iliad, with a focus on the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus, both during and leading up to the Trojan War. Miller spends a large amount of time on the two leads growing up, getting to understand each other, slowly falling in love. When the time finally comes for war, you're invested, you see the characters as human rather than myths. The beautiful prose keeps these slow paced early chapters engaging, feeling evocative of classic poetry while maintaining a modern sensibility. This all comes together in a tragic third act that will pull at your heartstrings. Some of the side characters are underdeveloped, but near perfect otherwise.
Reading this book was akin to the slow, drawn out process of falling out of love. The introduction is magical, captivating, you can't wait to get to know more. Then you continue on and realize that it's not really what the introduction implies, but you hold out hope that things will get better. Then, by the end, you're just counting down until it's over. Suffice to say, this book did not resonate with me. Sloppily written YA tropes masquerading as adult fantasy. Characters are pointlessly edgy. The worldbuilding is completely ignored for the vast majority of the novel in exchange for a poorly thought out and unnecessary romance between the MCs that comes out of nowhere. It's such a stark difference from the phenomenal introduction I ended up wondering if another author wrote the intro. It borrows a lot from The Witcher and American Gods, but the reflection is only surface level. This book will find an audience, but don't go in expecting anything beyond a generic YAish fantasy romance, no matter that the God of White Lies may whisper to you during that incredible introduction.
Contains spoilers
This is a tough one to review. I've seen people sing it's praises for being a fast paced, twisty thriller/horror combo; I've seen a fair amount of reviews calling it out on being transphobic, bigoted, and the like. My reading is it straddles the line for both. Let's start with the plot. It's compelling, reminding me a fair amount of The Ring and other horror films of the mid 00s. I was invested up until the end. And in that regard it's well executed, the clues line up, the red herrings don't feel like a cop out, there's plenty of creepy elements that work. That said, there were far too many twists in the last few chapters where it kind of fell apart. Now, as far as being transphobic, I need to say that as a cisgendered straight male, I cannot speak for the experiences of others, but it walks a VERY fine line that could be interpreted as being supportive or hateful, and frankly I can't say for certain myself. You can read Teddy's parents as awful people who took advantage of a situation, hiding the gender of their child to keep up a false lifestyle, an isolated case of cruelty. I worry the right will view them as a validation of the idea that parents “push” their kids to be trans.
The first few times I tried to read this, I could not get into the writing style. Eventually, I swapped over to the audiobook, and ended up loving it. By no means is it an easy read (both prose and content are difficult), but if you're into Native American folk horror, this book will scratch that itch.
Initially, it took me a few tries to really get into this book, but when it clicked, it clicked hard. It's a fantasy novel told from the very limited perspective of the protagonist: Piranesi lives in The House. The House is an infinite series of rooms, filled with marble statues, the ocean seeping in. As far as Piranesi is aware, it's only him and the one he calls The Other who inhabit The House. They've been there as long as he can remember, and it all seems to make sense until it seems as though someone else has appeared. That said, the mystery itself isn't really the focus of the novel, the pieces are laid out for the reader but the focus is on Piranesi own experience in the House. It's a profound character piece that I found incredibly striking. The prose is pitch perfect in creating a magical sense of wonder that permeates the novel, that makes it truly great. I ended up tearing through the second half in a single sitting. Very reminiscent of Klara and the Sun, if you liked that it's very likely this will hit you in the same way.
Totally not what I expected, but I ended up loving it regardless. The book is advertised as a horror/thriller/grounded sci-fi novel in the vein of The Martian and 127 Hours, and while those elements are there, the novel is far better served as a piece of experimental character driven literary fiction. Short, steam of consciousness chapters play out almost like vignettes, a series of scenes that let the reader fill in blanks on their own, floating back and forth in time exploring the deteriorating relationship of the main character and his father. Deep explorations of themes of death and rebirth, guilt, reconciliation. Segments that are almost hallucinatory in the way the dialogue is structured. It's clear that the author was confident in their writing, interested not only in telling a story but on how the story was told. It reminds me of Lincoln in the Bardo, which is high praise as I utterly love that novel. All building to a beautifully cathartic ending. And all of this just happens to take place inside a whale.
Contains spoilers
Echoes of The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns. It's absolutely infuriating to read, but in an intentional way. I loved it more or less right up until the end, which was optimistic and uplifting in a way that felt at odds with the rest of the novel. Things get tied up too neatly. It's a bit too movie styled happy ending. I would've loved the book, but because of the unearned romantic ending, I mostly ended up just liking it.
Not for me. I can see why people enjoy it, but about halfway through the audiobook and it's just not engaging me in the way that I'd want to invest another 6 hours into it. That said, as a guy in my 30s, I'm probably not the target audience for this, and that's okay. It leans too heavily into YA tropes for me. Not a fan of the prose, the Nightmare constantly pointing out the obvious, the plot feeling like the same story I've seen elsewhere a million times, in different clothes. Neat magic system and worldbuilding though, the fairy tale feeling was intriguing, but not enough to keep me on the hook. Also, I cannot get over a book set in a world literally called Blunder.
I wanted to love it. I really did. Character focussed, video game theming, slow burn story of a group of friends slowly drifting apart. It just didn't work for me though. The video game development side felt like set dressing. It wasn't woven into the plot in a way that felt integral, but the author kept bringing it to the forefront almost as to say “hey, video games, remember?” It felt akin to the plot of the “Dark Quiet Death” episode of Mythic Quest stretched out to a length that detracted from its impact. There are some segments with beautifully written prose though.
DNF @ about 65% I've always thought Cleopatra has had an undeserved bad reputation, so the concept of a novel re-examining her through a new lens seemed like a fantastic idea. A chance to retell her story without the revisionism of Augustus, Shakespeare and Elizabeth Taylor's interpretation. Then I started listening and found it to be boring at best and aggressively aggravating at worst. The real Cleopatra is a bit of a mystery, there are few sources on her from sources within Egypt at the time of its downfall. Most writings in the era were written through the Roman lens, painting her in a negative light as a negative influence between the civil war between Marc Antony and Octavian in the transition from the Republic to the Empire. She herself wasn't ever intended to sit the throne of an Egyptian kingdom that was already in decline, itself trapped in civil wars and growing debt to Rome, which was openly discussing annexation well before Caesar. This leads to the books setup of Cleopatra directly telling the audience that history misrepresented her, and she was in fact a good ruler, not a witch or a seductress. Then the book does nothing to validate the assertions it makes. We never see her as a competent ruler. She's arrogant and constantly leans on the weight of her fathers will granting her divine right to rule, but at no point does the novel or the character really explore the state of the kingdom or what being a good ruler even means. In the context of the time the character actually existed, then taking the throne by divine right could be seen as a valid exploration of the character, but the constant 4th wall breaks with Cleopatra talking directly to a modern reader makes this fall apart. And things get worse by the time Caesar shows up. She spends page upon page talking about how in love with Caesar she was, how good he was. It's like the author is so hellbent on saying “she didn't seduce him, it was mutual” that the novel has to grind to a halt to keep repeating it over and over. And again, the constant fourth wall breaks just do not add anything to the story. Being constantly told directly (I.e. “you recall that Caesar will die”) just did not work. It adds to the sense of arrogance in the character, and makes the entire thing start to read like hagiography. It ended up being a DNF at about 65% for me. Libby loan ran out and I couldn't be bothered to get back in the queue for a renewal. I'm sure the audience who's familiar with Cleopatra as a concept and looking for a more romance focussed historical novel will probably like this. But for me, as someone far more interested in the broader exploration of a ruler who was dealt a poor hand of cards and tried to play as best she could, this book was a complete letdown.
I'm a fan of the podcast, but this didn't work for me. The snarky writing feels like a transcription of a podcast rather than being written for reading. I couldn't get into the constant quippy asides, in-text reactions (“can you believe it”), and the like. The core content is interesting, but the presentation wasn't up to snuff.
