Bronwyn Knox
I loved this book and didn't want it to end. This might seem odd because terrible things kept happening to Astrid and certainly I didn't want to continue to see her suffer. It's just that I was so wrapped up in her thoughts and her world.
The story explores Astrid's search for her identity and her quest is projected onto the need for a mother figure. Her mother Ingrid has a massive ego and she revolves her world and Astrid's world completely around herself. Astrid is totally wrapped up in Ingrid and has very little will of her own. Her mother goes to prison for murdering her lover, leaving Astrid to fend for herself.
Once her mother is taken away, Astrid is forced to live in various foster homes. Sometimes she is abused and suffering. Other times she projects her need for a mother figure on whoever is available. The consequences of this are disastrous. Towards the end of her teenage years, she decides to cut off her emotions, her needs and becomes self-sufficient in a way, but cold.
Throughout the book, Astrid does terrible things and terrible things are done to her. The author is not afraid to take risks. She makes the character sympathetic but doesn't feel the need to have the reader perceive her as flawless. This is a story for and about women. Most of the men are objects and obstacles, side-pieces. The only man the readers will care about is Paul, because he's the only man Astrid trusts or cares about. But even that is left somewhat open-ended as to whether she will want to stay with him.
The scene in the book that brings the story home is when Astrid is in the hospital and her friend is having a baby. Astrid breaks down the necessity of motherhood:
“They wanted the real mother, the blood mother, the great womb, mother of fierce compassion, a woman large enough to hold all the pain, to carry it away. What we needed was someone who bled...mothers big enough, wide enough for us to hide in...mothers who would breathe for us when we could not breathe anymore, who would fight for us, who would kill for us, die for us.”
The story is structured like this: various teams travel the Long Earth with different goals in mind.
Much of the conflict revolves around humanity and their ability to co-exist with trolls and other humanoids. The war in the title deals with the Datum government wanting to control humans on Long Earth worlds, since their departure damaged the economy.
Things don't rev up until the last 50 pages. I enjoy the light humor and writing style so much that I was willing to stick with it, but it can really try a reader's patience.
One of my favorites of the Discworld Witches subseries. In no small part because it revolves around Anges, my favorite young witch and introduces my two favorite races, the Nac MacFeegles and Igors. Great story with fun humor. Pratchett loves taking on these pop culture phenomenons, and this was published during the run of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. I love it when Discworld puts their characters up against classic horror monsters, phantom of the opera, vampires, werewolves and so on.
Among the themes of the book, this one is directly stated: Evil begins when you treat people as things. This has an anti-corporate message, as in corporations using the masses to drain their money, for cheap labor, etc. Other themes are the idea of being reborn (the phoenix, Granny Weatherwax returning, the life cycle of the vampire, the notion of what faith is (all conversations with Granny and Oats) and duality or contradiction of mind (Agnes vs. Perdita and Oats knowledge of what he's supposed to believe in vs. what he actually thinks).
Though Granny remains the problem solver, the story is observed through the younger characters, Agnes and Mightily Oats. Granny Weatherwax spends some time dealing with fears of being obsolete, with there technically being four witches in Lancre these days.
Carpe Jugulum's biggest conflict comes out in favor of a traditional approach, which is unusual for the series that generally favors not sticking to tradition. For instance, main villain County Magpyr took a “modern” approach of contracting with his victims, making them into docile farm animals instead of the traditional monstrous approach of hiding in the shadows and coming to his victims at night. Verence's attempts to be a “modern” king and improve the kingdom were largely ignored by the Lancrastrians, who take what they see as a sensible approach at all times.
Perhaps even Pratchett was not immune to being in a contradictory state of mind.
It's a real pleasure to read and reread this series and get more from it each time.
These remain entertaining and fun for me without ever reaching thrilling and compelling.
The series is kind of like old episodic television shows, where they'd have a “monster of the week” plotline. There would be some really great character actor guest stars. In this case, they'd play Shiro and Sanya and recurring character Johnny Marcone. The world-building and some of the supporting characters are good.
As for the overall series arc so far, the conflict of the Red vs. White Court is missing any real stakes to make it interesting, and as for Harry's romance with Susan, I'm not feeling it. Sex scenes aren't enough to tell a story of their connection.
I did enjoy the Archive, though and I hope she returns.
The stories were very good. I particularly liked Elaine, the little girl who talks to the dead.
I'm surprised Lucifer didn't have a bit more charisma. He seems sort of blank. Not sure if it's the artwork or the dialogue.
“time was not passing...it was turning in a circle...” ― Gabriel García Márquez
It was certainly an experience to read this family saga, but it wasn't easy. Garcia Marquez packs tons of occurrences into one paragraph, so blink and you might miss something. It's not a book for skimmers or for anyone looking for a quick read. It's challenging.
The book goes through multiple generations of characters with the same or similar names: Jose Arcacio, Auraliano, Remedios, etc. Some of the characters are very long-lived and it's hard to tell at times which character is featured in a particular event in a story. Since “passing of time” is one of the themes of the book, I'm guessing this was as intended. You become disoriented as to where you are in the family history. (There was a handy family tree in the front of my copy though!)
The other unique thing is the plot; it's not one long through-line, but rather a lot of mini stories spread throughout the book. I especially enjoyed the tale of Remedios the Beauty and her ascension into the sky and the sad love story of Renata Remedios and Mauricio. If there is a overarching story, it is the fall of the town and the demise of the Buendia family, which are intertwined. They succumb to fate, which is another theme.
I'm guessing a thorough knowledge of Latin American history would enhance reading the book. This is something I don't have but I still found it engaging. Garcia Marquez passes through events so quickly and you don't get a chance to become emotionally involved with anyone very deeply. Good to have read it but, it was certainly not the most accessible book.
It was kinda funny reading this immediately after Starship Troopers, which was very much about putting yourself on the line for the good of society. Here we have a book which questions whether it makes any sense to the individual to do that, especially when inspiring leadership is nothing but a fantasy. This is a predecessor of MAS*H and Black Adder goes Forth.
“From now on I'm thinking only of me.”
Major Danby replied indulgently with a superior smile: “But, Yossarian, suppose everyone felt that way.”
“Then,” said Yossarian, “I'd certainly be a damned fool to feel any other way, wouldn't I?”
“Man was matter. Drop him out of a window and he'll fall. Set fire to him and he'll burn. Bury him and he'll rot, like other kinds of garbage.”
“The enemy,” retorted Yossarian with weighted precision, “is anybody who's going to get you killed, no matter which side he's on, and that includes Colonel Cathcart. And don't you forget that, because the longer you remember it, the longer you might live.”
“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 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.
Maybe more like 2.5. This is a very 90's satire of the gangster/crime drama genre of films that was ubiquitous and popular at that time.
I was interested in this book because Elton was a writer for two of my favorite shows from the 1980s, The Young Ones, and Black Adder II-IV. He certainly knows how to structure a plot and write dialogue.
Unfortunately, the book jacket/promo blurbs led me to believe this was going to be WAY funnier than it actually was. There were a couple of mild chuckles, but mostly it was ironic, not laugh-out-loud funny.
It's very meta and there are lots of bits in screenplay format and the whole thing is slick and superficial. It could be turned into a film easily. If the characters were a bit more developed the story would have been funnier because then, as a reader I would have been involved as the situation became increasingly dangerous if I had any insight into these people. As it stands, there are no heroes or relatable characters in the book. Everyone is a spectacular tool.
The material that it satirizes, such as Natural Born Killers, was already pretty meta and had its own messages about glorifying violence and depicting killers as folk heroes in the media. Satire should be better than what it's satirizing, and this is not; it's not even as good.
There were a couple of strong points about Popcorn. The final confrontation did have me very tense. I also appreciate that Popcorn takes a swipe at both liberal and conservative views and suggests that we take responsibility for our own actions and don't blame the media or any other circumstances for our mistakes and failures.
Eleanor Oliphant started off well enough. It was funny, witty, and Eleanor is an interesting character. There was a little dark edge there in the form of the flashbacks/ “telephone calls” with Eleanor's mom. The humor was mostly coming from Eleanor's lack of social skills and misunderstanding of other people. Most of us take for granted the ability to navigate a social situation, even though they may be awkward we manage. Also, Eleanor's capacity for self-delusion as she pretends that it's the other people she interacts with, not her, that are foolish, rude, crazy, whatever. The second half of the book is where Honeyman lost me. Once the major catastrophe of the book occurs, Eleanor goes into therapy. This makes sense is completely believable, however these chapters of the book are dull and flat. Nothing new that the reader didn't already guess about her past is revealed. There is a huge tone shift, which I have no problem with as a rule. But if the second half shifts, it needs to be equal to the first half and it wasn't. Sure, I want Eleanor to be truly fine in the end but I still need to be engaged as a reader. Another aspect of the book that I was not too thrilled with is Eleanor's victimization. There were a lot of comparisons of this book to [b:A Man Called Ove 18774964 A Man Called Ove Fredrik Backman https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1405259930l/18774964.SY75.jpg 21619954] . The comparisons aren't Honeyman's fault but this draws attention to the fact that Eleanor's loneliness and off-putting behavior seems to be explained by an abusive mother AND a “boyfriend” she had that raped and abused her. Ove had tragedy in his life but there was no feeling that he was a victim that you should feel sorry for or need to protect. I hate to do this, but I admit I'm bringing this up because she's a woman. Making a female character a victim doesn't make her more interesting or likeable. We need to get past that notion. Eleanor's fear and loathing of dealing with people, her insecurity, could have had a more subtle cause.
Great kid's stories show kids or young people left to their own resources and devices, with no reliable adults to protect them and solve their problem. A few of my favorite examples of this: [b:The Outsiders 231804 The Outsiders S.E. Hinton https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1442129426l/231804.SY75.jpg 1426690], [b:The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon 11564 The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon Stephen King https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1580235339l/11564.SY75.jpg 1836389], and [b:Coraline 17061 Coraline Neil Gaiman https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1493497435l/17061.SY75.jpg 2834844]. The kids in Swamplandia! are teens left to cope and make their own decisions and of course they make horrible, life-endangering mistakes. As a mom, I want to beat the living crap out of the dad who abandons and endangers Ava, and Ossie. However, I can still put myself in the place I was as a young person though and appreciate that these were the kind of tales I loved the best.The two lead characters, Ava and Kiwi, are endearing and clever but both overestimate themselves. When the chips are down, though, they come up with the courage they need. Swamplandia! Has a unique setting and story elements and is cute and quirky and an easy read. It's definitely a YA book, I'm not seeing the horror, magical realism, or fantasy aspect. Most of the “weird stuff” that happened, supposed ghosts etc., are easily explained as a projection of the character's minds.The Prose is a bit much at times with needlessly obscure descriptions that don't feel right in the “voice” of the character telling the story. They sound self-consciously like a writer and not at all like the thoughts of the person they're supposed to belong to. Also, and this is just my personal pet peeve, but I hate it when writers flip from a first person narrative to a third person without any compelling reason. Russell could have just stuck to third-person omniscient and we still would have known Kiwi and Ava's thoughts and feelings. This would be good for young adult readers who like offbeat stories.
Layered and lengthy tale of several families affected by a civil court case.
It is quite a 19th-century soap opera with romance, secrets, murder, and intrigue. So many characters. Rich, poor, young, old, nice, not-so-nice and so on. Parts of it were fun; there was dark humor and entertaining sub-plots.
Despite the sheer number of people to keep track of, Dickens kept it interesting most of the time. It amazed me that they all have well-developed personalities. It was like reading a Discworld book in that regard. I liked Bucket the best, a gentleman and cop combo that you don't see very often.
Esther Summerson was not my favorite heroine. She's so nice, and reasonable, and charitable and unassuming that it was ironically hard to like her.
Of all Dicken's books, this one in particular is on many “best book of all time” lists.
“...no-one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away... The span of someone's life, they say, is only the core of their actual existence.”
― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man
This was one of the first Discworld books I ever read and I had no idea when I picked it up what I was in for. Turns out it was the perfect book for me; a far out story with wacky, witty humor. I had no idea at the time that Discworld was a fantasy series parody; to me this book had a life of its own and much better than any standard warrior and wizard novel. You don't have to read the series in any particular order. You can pick up any of these books and enjoy them without feeling lost.
Re-reading I came to appreciate it on a deeper level besides just “woo, zany comedy.” There is a tidy symmetry between the two main stories. The Death incarnation from Discworld is fired and has to live as a mortal human. Rather than existing as an eternal, unchanging being, he experiences a life with limited time. He also needs an occupation, so he gets a job as a farm hand and becomes a companion to an old woman, and even risks his life to save a child.
The second part of the story is Windle Poons, a wizard who dies but is not allowed to move on because Death is absent. He is forced out of his sheltered life at the University and becomes active and observant, something he never was when he was alive. He discovers an evil entity that's trying to take over the city by means of a shopping mall, and he and his new undead friends help foil it.
Both Death and Windle Poons have greater adventures and deeper human connections than they would have been capable of in their original incarnations. It may be a cliche but it seems the characters needed to face death in order to live life fully. With Pratchett this message never becomes too cheesy because he knows how to throw in the jokes at the right moments.
There is also an assortment of eccentric characters if the two above don't strike a chord with you. There's a psychic who answers your questions before you know you're going to ask them. The bullheaded wizard archchancellor whose curse words turn into flying insects. And don't forget the boogeyman who is just looking for a door to hide behind.
If you like Discworld and haven't read this one yet, it's worth picking up. If you're thinking about trying the series this is a fine place to start. Good for fans of humor, fantasy, SciFi, and intelligent thoughtful writing.
“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.
This is a fun read and my kind of history book. Sarah Vowell has written a travel diary covering her trips to various sites of significance to the assassinations of the U.S. Presidents in the 19th century. Vowell covers both her reactions to the places she visits (and those of her sometimes less-than-enthused travel competitions) and bits of trivia and and of course history about her subjects.
Sure, the topic is a little morbid but she clearly has a great passion for it. Vowell's conversational style and sense of humor make this more entertaining than it sounds. My favorite bits are when she slyly notes the absurdity and weirdness of American history. I'm definitely up for checking out more of her work.
Witty and exciting cyber-punk. I can't believe I missed this guy back in the 1990s. This was reminiscent of William Gibson's Sprawl trilogy with its hipster-youth outsider characters, division of haves and have-nots, corporate-controlled dystopia, and the combining of the spiritual with technology.
There are tons of funny one-liners; Snow Crash was worth it just for this alone. I also fell for the colorful characters I could root for even if at times they were impossibly attractive, savvy, and quick.
A few things in the plot and some motivations were slightly unresolved and fuzzy but overall I loved reading this.
Diamond Age is science fiction with both personal stories and global and political events. Some of it was good. There were many entertaining scenes, characters, bits of dialogue, and so on. I loved the idea of the Primer itself: a book designed by a concerned grandfather, hoping to teach his granddaughter to think independently and dare to go outside the customs of their society. The Primer is both a storyteller and an interactive video game, designed to bond with its reader and become a surrogate parent/teacher. A device raising a child, rather than the child's family, is still relevant.
The story of how the Primer gets into the hands of Nell is also notable. If the goal was to teach a privileged young lady how to be subversive, this goal became subverted because it lands in the hands of a poor and “tribeless” little girl. (Though the nitpicker part of me wonders why Hackworth didn't try simply asking Finkle-McGraw for a copy of the book for his daughter.)
There were a lot of detailed digressions–descriptions of history and technology that didn't serve the plot or feed my imagination for the world Stephenson created. It made the book a chore to read at times. The young heroine, Nell, was an underdog and I do like to root for a good underdog. But she was a bit too passive to hold my interest or inspire admiration. A lot more things happen to her than happen because of her actions. Other characters, Harv and Judge Fang for instance, piqued my interest more than Nell but alas they vanish after the first half.
There aren't really antagonists as such. Instead there are two powerful old men, Dr. X and Finkle-McGraw, who pull most of the strings and cause the conflicts that occur. They are ambiguous in terms of whether what they want is for the greater good or serving their own ends. They're nowhere to be found when all the shit hits the fan toward the end and I'm not sure what the point of that was.
The description of the book says “tragic comedy” and that says it all. Not because you feel sad for any of these characters. Kennedy Toole masterfully gives us distance to see what is absurd about them.
Ignatius is both a slob and a snob. A buffoon who behaves so badly to everyone that you're laughing and amazed at the same time at what he tries to get away with. Most of the people reacting to him are not exactly “the straight man” because they are all for the most part onto him, and in some cases perpetuating schemes of their own.
My favorite element is how well all the groups of characters and their storylines converge for a chaotic ending. I love books that can do that and have it be, not exactly believable in the realistic sense, but perfectly fitting for the tone of the book.
My favorite of the series. There are a lot of bizarre scenes of existential horror mixed with the humor that have left a mark on my brain.
I love the concept of Milliways and I love Arthur's reaction to it.
The plot of this one plays out in a way that's a bit more satisfying to me than the original Hitchhikers.
There's a lot more Zaphod here, and he's a character that you could certainly either hate or love with his massive ego put-on cluelessness.
I like that this is a different style for Mieville. It's good when authors do different things instead of just writing the same book over and over, which happens quite often. There is a lot of humor and lightness that I can't recall seeing in his other works.
I really enjoy his imagination, and there are quite a few interesting character concepts in this book, such as Wati, the afterlife familiar who can connect with the world via any statue, figure, or doll; Jason, who can put himself in any environment and convince you that you already know him; and the body-horror-esque sentient Tattoo. My personal favorite is Collingswood, a magic-using cop who behaves with nihilistic swagger you seldom ever see in a female character.
If you're a fan of humorous urban fantasy, then you probably already have read a bunch of books like this. If so, you're looking for something that will add something new to that kind of genre, a different take or an astounding story.
The story of the Kraken could have been a case investigated by Dirk Gently or Peter Grant, or have been something written by Neil Gaiman.
If not adding anything unique to a genre, authors can succeed by giving us characters we can really get involved with so we can care about what's happening on that level rather than because of a unique concept.
I didn't get this from The Kraken . If Gaiman or Adams had written this, there would have been more warmth and charm to it.
As interesting as the Kraken's character concepts are, he never takes them much past their concept into relatable personalities despite their inherent weirdness. He never makes the strange familiar enough for me to care about actions and motives.
The themes about belief and religion aren't anything new either.
The book felt incredibly long to me and three-quarters of the way in, I wanted it to be over. The plot cuts wide rather than deep with various groups running around with their individual investment in the apocalypse or the Kraken. A clean and well-organized plot can certainly bear up under the weight of so many competing character groups, but that wasn't the case here.
Fast-moving can be good but The Kraken was splattered chaos in need of an editor. I'm feeling 2.5-ish about it, but will round up to 3 since it did provide some moments of humor/entertainment.
Harvest Home is a horror story focused on a city family who becomes country dwellers, trying to buy their way into a peaceful life.
The narrator is Ned, the father, and husband who gives up his advertising job and brings his wife and daughter to the farm town of Cornwall Coombe. Their new home appears to answer all their prayers, even offering a homeopathic cure for his teenage daughter Kate. The naturally curious and energetic Ned starts digging too closely into the secrets and customs of their apparently friendly but odd new neighbors.
The scary bits rely on fear of religion or eldritch “ancient' religious practices of the villagers. They feel that what they are doing is right and justified but are savvy enough to realize that “outsiders” wouldn't get it.
There's something a bit Lovecraftian about this, worship of ancient deities, human sacrifices, and brutal punishment against those who break the rules. Things that play on the fears of modern, “rational” people. The difference is instead of fearing immigrants and other races like Lovecraft, Tryon is going for men's fear of women and their “power.” In Harvest Home, female power means witch-like and “closer to nature” and other stereotypes like these.
I don't know how this was taken in the 70s when Tryon wrote it, but some of the female characterizations, the rituals and corn tradtions seemed a little silly to me in 2023. My inability to take some things seriously didn't keep me from enjoying the ride and still finding lot of it unsettling (in the good way a great horror book should be unsettle you).
Ned is a sympathetic narrator, whom I felt bad for as he got so deeply over his head.
That ending was, wow, very cynical and dark.
Overall the story has a slow build-up with a powerful payoff for readers with patience. Harvest Home was one of the books featured in Paperbacks from Hell. I've had a lot of fun looking into these old classics with the guidance of that book.
Well written and well structured, but so hateful. The beginning to middle is a challenging read because the writing is so dense and detailed and Eva, the narrator of the story, is hard to like, although occasionally she is easy to understand.
Eva is a neurotic Manhattanite, critical of others with no self awareness of how she resembles the things she hates (hypocritical), and self involved. She doesn't like kids but decides having a baby is the right next step in her emotional connection to her husband Franklin. When she has her son Kevin, she's disappointed that she doesn't like him and feels she was entitled to a more lovable baby.
One recurring theme of the book is a hatred of America and how spoiled we are, and criticism of of culture that creates and sensationalizes mass-murdering teens but also of the various solutions from the schools, including treating every stray word, every poem, every form of self-expression that seems dark as a “sign” and expelling the kids (not to mention, as Kevin points out, giving them ideas). Interesting to me it's not a gun that Kevin uses, so this isn't an anti-gun message. That would be too easy I suppose. There's also the idea that modern people don't DO anything, just sit back and watch the few people who do really terrible things. Mass murderer teen uses this to give his life meaning.
“On April 8, 1999, I jumped into the screen, I switched to watchee. Ever since, I've known what my life is about. I give good story. It may have been kinda gory, but admit it, you all loved it. You ate it up.”
There's also a hatred of women/motherhood. Eva writes about herself (the book is done as a series of letters) as someone who resented everything she had to give up to have a baby: her body, her career as a travel writer, her close relationship to her husband.
I don't think we blame her for what Kevin did in the sense of disliking her child or being a bad mother. I did have questions, however.. Never does she take the kid to the pediatrician or suggest a child therapist even when she observes things he does that would hint at serious problems. The resistance to potty training, lack of curiosity or interest in playing when Kevin was a toddler would be enough. Kevin never lets her see him eat, never wants her to know he's learning anything. He denies her any pleasure of parenting and by Eva's description, seems smart enough to be aware of this even pre-K. Her husband, on the other hand, sees a perfect healthy happy little boy and Eva suggests Kevin manipulates his father to keep believing this way by putting on a “Gee Dad, this is great!” attitude in his presence.
Is Eva so under the thumb of her husband? It doesn't seem to be the case, she doesn't seem that submissive, Franklin doesn't seem that domineering. He sees Kevin as a concept of a son but Eva sees his unique personality. Yes, she does nothing about it.
Another interesting theme is that of people who “don't know what life is for.” Eva sees this in her husband's parents who collect material goods but don't seem to appreciate music, art, real living. They just spend their money and fill their time. This connects to the hatred of American consumerism and culture as well. Kevin enjoys nothing, doesn't want anyone else to enjoy anything, and when he goes on his killing spree, targets other students who display a passion for something.
This is also part of Kevin's relationship with Eva. There is power in not approving of or liking anything, holding yourself aloof and being the one everyone wants to impress or please. It goes both ways between them, and Kevin admits that Eva was his “audience” for the things he did, since she was the one person who could see him clearly.
This one was an intense experience, intellectually and emotionally. It got better about half way through, once Eva became less obsessed with herself.
Ghost Story was a cut above the rest of the series for me, at least so far. Dresden is in a situation where he has to learn all new rules of how the world operates for him in his “condition” and how he can effect any change upon it. It's good to see a powerful character reduced and have to struggle as though they were back at their humble beginnings. I was much more invested in his successes and failures because I felt he was really up against some obstacles.
Many scenes were memories of Harry's past, revealing things we didn't know before, because they took place before the events of the first book or because Harry didn't know them either. These were all well integrated into the story and set up well to move the plot along.
This series is hit-or-miss for me but this is one of the “hits.” Ghost Story was uncommonly satisfying in terms of character development, compelling drama, and adventure.
I used to love this book when I was a youngish teenager, the combination of Gothic elements, mystery, revenge, and suspense made it irresistible. Possibly I was more into it than Andrew's more popular Flowers in the Attic. Certainly My Sweet Audrina is just as good. I reread it many times, still enjoying it even once I knew the big secret.
Audrina is the narrator and protagonist of the story, living under the shadow of her brighter and better older sister, now diseased. It is a dark atmosphere indeed that Andrews created, perfect for the Gothic genre. Audrina's living in a mansion, known as Whitefern, but far from luxurious, it is run down from neglect, full of inadequate lighting, a dangerous staircase, and—in the case of her dead sister's bedroom—creepy dolls and spider webs. If that weren't enough, there's always the stormy weather happening in key moments throughout the book.
The major conflict for Audrina is one of memory and identity, with Audrina lacking a sense of her past and always wishing to be like her older sister, Audrina, who family speaks of as being so “special.” Unaware she is the victim of, among other things, a huge gaslighting plot, she never even knows the time, the day, nor is she allowed to attend school (Unsubtly, the main rooms in Whitefern are lit by gaslight.)
“There were shadows in the corners and whispers on the stairs and time was as irrelevant as honesty.”
In retrospect, the big reveal of the book seems obvious. Did Audrina not think it was weird that she had the same birthday, same name, same appearance as her long dead sister? The first time I read this, I admit I accepted it entirely, so complete was the gaslighting and so sympathetic was young Audrina's narration. The main mystery of the book is psychologically fascinating, if you can suspend your disbelief.
Adding to Aurdina's problems is the dynamic of constant tension between her parents, between her mom and her aunt, and between everyone and Audrina's wild and willful cousin, Vera. High, overwrought emotions, secrets and revenge add to the gothic atmosphere and romantic and sexual jealousy, as well as a general obsession/repulsion about sex give My Sweet Audrina its spice. A lot of this is man/woman battle of the sexes stuff: Mom gave up her career to be a wife, Aunt Elspeth has secret feelings for Dad, and just who is Vera's father anyway? Kinda soapy but compulsively readable.
“There was a war going on in our house, a silent war that sounded no guns, and the bodies that fell were only wishes that died and the bullets were only words and the blood that was spilled was always called pride.”
The secondary revenge plot is pretty good too, and Andrews plays a long game with it, including a bit of misdirection. Audrina's father is apparently the heavy, pitting all the women against each other for his love and keeping Audrina tightly under his control through fear, guilt, and affection. Yet, it all comes down to the women making decisions and taking action—and since this is a bit of a melodrama, a bit of a dark fantasy—they mostly make the wrong ones. It's notable that nothing big happens in this book that wasn't the result of action or machinations of one of the female characters. Maybe that was another reason that this and all VC Andrews works meant so much to me at the time.