Icarus

Glück reminds me of Hamlet, in that she is never completely transparent with us. The rawness is held at arm's length.

But goddamn do some of these poems strike particularly well for where I'm at in life right now.

Best read in spring.

Every day that goes on, I am reminded more and more of this book.

If I could have everyone read just two books, they would be Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, and Feed by M.T. Anderson.

This is a lot to fit into one book, but I'm not sure it should have been more than one book either.

Mostly, I wish there was more description to ground us in the world. We move so quickly from plot point to plot point (especially at the end) that I would have liked to sit more firmly in the moments we do experience. Instead, I think the result was a bit too "floaty" -- it almost felt like we could have had Snow end up in any kind of scene or setting, with almost equal (ie lack of) weight. But I realize more description would pad an already high page count.

It's been a long time since I've read the other books, but I think that's generally just Collins' style -- both moving the plot quickly and the lack of description, which ultimately do work well enough for a YA audience.

One of Collins' strengths that I enjoy is revealing plot points that feel unexpected but inevitable. What's difficult, I think, in writing any prequel, is that we know the fate of the main character. Because we know we see Snow again, I would have liked the emotional arc of /why/ he is how he is to feel more compelling. Snow is a deeply flawed character, and we're absolutely meant to understand him as such, but ultimately I didn't have any big moments of remorse for him -- just a resigned loss at those around him. Looking back, there was a great, slow moral deterioration of choices, though.

This sounds like I mostly have negative things to say, but this is a solid book, and I have a ton of respect for Collins to return to writing this series because the public (or mostly the media?) Didn't Get The Message, and because she has more to say about our own world.

You can always trust Wells to write diverse and well-rounded characters, and to explore the ramifications of magic in her fantasy worlds. This one's got a genuinely kick-ass middle aged woman at its center, who also gets a love interest, but(!) the romance doesn't feel forced and doesn't distract from the story.

Unfortunately, I mixed up some characters who became integral to the end plot, which meant the end didn't strike with full force. Can't be sure whether that was my lack of attention or, potentially, the characters weren't introduced or well-defined, causing them to become interchangeable in my mind.

I would have benefited from a demonstration, of exactly what could go wrong if the Rite to remake the world went astray, perhaps in a vision. To just trust that the Rite always has to go exactly right, and that it does in fact remake the world, felt a stretch too far to have to believe. I especially didn't get a sense why a 100-year anniversary would be higher stakes than the annual ones, if they're both doing the same thing. I would have loved to see how the Wheel was discovered in the first place, and how the Rites came to be. (How, exactly, does a society learn that they have to remake the world every year?)

I was surprised that this was a standalone though -- it felt like it had more love to give for the world and its characters. Regardless, a solid read.

Thank you to NetGalley for providing me with an epub copy of the book in exchange for a review.

No clue why this took me forever to get through. But I strongly suspect that despite Rice's solid writing, I just don't like reading Lestat's perspective.