This had great atmosphere - Klein manages to evoke that Dunwich feeling in modern (yes I'm old) New Jersey, deftly setting up the natural surroundings as ominous and creepy crawly.
It also shows both deep knowledge of weird fiction, and a playful attitude in making use of references. Taking a summer to read creepy stories in a primitive building in the wild - what could go wrong? (I strongly recommend listening to the H.P. Lovecraft Literary Podcast analysis, with guest Ken Hite - he understands all the nuance of Klein's use of uncanny literature, as well as taking the listener multiple layers deep in the “unreliable narrator” question.)
Overall, this is a must-read for fans of Lovecraft, Gothic tales, or weird literature in general.
It's among Jane's longest novels, and I confess I felt the wordcount. I found most of it delightful, but sometimes a fun element (silly hypochondria, planning a ball) gets too repetitive or drawn out, and it loses momentum. This is entertaining and it's interesting to have an Austen hero who's rich and socially dominant - this is well worth reading! I just don't think it's in my “read every 1-2 years” pile.
Tony Chu has a weird psychic ability: he can sense the individual history of any food he eats. He's also a detective. You can probably figure out what disgusting-but-hilarious road this is heading down.
The fun surprise for me was the world this is set in - it's not just a cibopathic detective functioning in our modern society, but rather a near-future America where there's a thriving black market for chicken, and the conspiracy theorists might be on to something with their distrust of the most powerful federal agency in the government: the FDA.
I must know what happens next! If this lacked a bit of the fresh verve that accompanied my reading of the first volume, it was more than compensated by the wonderful representation of trans women, and a greater glimpse into the resistance!
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This was compelling, but overall I felt it tried unsuccessfully to lift itself out of the depressive, hopeless morass it so convincingly set up. The world Malerman presents really struggles to maintain suspense, because the only realistic expectation is that the ending will be “And they all died. The end.”
That, together with some really harrowing themes of child abuse, kept me from rating this four stars. I did like it, and while the premise seems to inevitably doom our characters unless there's colossal amounts of dumb luck on their side, it did serve to frame some spine-tingling set pieces that will be hard to forget!
I adored this book! I've been slowly reading the Harry Dresden novels, and they're OK, but as I read this, I thought, “This is what Jim Butcher wishes he could do.”
The basic plots are remarkably similar - modern day setting, protagonist who trades in supernatural services in the style of a noir detective, plenty of suspects and double crosses. This book just struck me as more literary, more polished. (Though Butcher's later books may be as well - I'm only on number 3.)
One major difference that I liked was that while the setting is modern, it is not set in our world, precisely. The portrait of a London well known to be haunted by ghosts is eerie and effective.
All in all, it's a fun read, with a plot that pulls you along and provides mystery and surprise, with a side of chills and personal drama.
Oh my goodness, why did it take me so long to read this? Literary cosmic horror is my happy place, and I already knew I liked Langan from his great novelette “Technicolor.”
The narrative structure is complex, echoing Lovecraft, Machen, etc., where the original narrator digs down a few layers into others' accounts as well as recounting a personal experience. Abe starts his tale, then a lengthy section involves Howard (haha), the cook at Herman's (haha), telling a story told to him by a minister, who heard it from an elderly lady finally disclosing a family secret as she neared death. That sounds ridiculously byzantine, but it flows naturally and is pretty easy to follow - a mark of a skilled writer.
The characters really ring true, and the depictions of grief and loss are poignant. Lottie's tale is the real meat of the story, with Abe's connection to it providing a frame, and an opportunity for the creeping dread to get very immediate and horrifying, once we've been primed by the old timey tale told third-hand.
I found that I knew pretty much where this was going early on, but it didn't detract from the experience at all. This isn't about any big new plot ideas (it clearly riffs on W.W. Jacobs and Stephen King), but about the specifics, the atmosphere, and the people involved. And lord, some of those specifics! Langan skillfully takes the ideas and mood of cosmic horror and reifies them with inventive and harrowing details.
A very clever re-imagining* of The Horror at Red Hook, which is arguably Lovecraft's most racist story. Which is a shame, because the plot has some interesting possibilities that would require acknowledgement of the race issues (rich white dude snubs his family to hang out with immigrants and people of color), but allows for arm's length commentary on those issues, rather than whole-hearted endorsement.
And The Ballad of Black Tom mines a lot of that potential. The portion of the novella told from Tommy's point of view is definitely the more powerful. The Malone point of view has its moments, don't get me wrong. Seeing the Irish mystic who thinks he knows about the occult try to cope with unfathomable cosmic horror has its own satisfactions.
You don't need to read the original story to appreciate this one (and I understand if the racism is just too much to deal with), but knowing the Lovecraft will definitely deepen your appreciation of this story.
*The story itself gives some clues about the in-world relationship with Lovecraft's story, but I won't spoil any of that here.
A totally addictive story. It's a bit of a long book, but it doesn't feel like it - I flew through this, eager to find out what would happen next (or what had happened to get us here - brilliant structure).
I did feel like there were some flaws, like the decision Eli & Victor make seems underwritten and far too cavalier/immediate. Plus on occasion, there would be a strange sentence structure or a misused word that would snag my momentum a bit. But overall, this was just entrancing.
I'm dying to learn more about the personality changes EOs experience - what is real, and what is mistaken interpretation? Are people just feeling their pre-existing traits in a more powerful way when social consequences don't control them anymore? It's left ambiguous here, though of course characters' actions speak to the issue. Still, lots to be delved into in the sequel. (Which needs to be published now, please!)
Thought-provoking, with some memorable characters, but the allegory was as subtle as a sledgehammer, and became a bit tiresome. I feel like Alderman had the chance to make this more ambiguous and elegant, but bowed to the urge to send A Message, as well as wanting to tie the plot up a bit too neatly.
Still, I think this is compelling, and perhaps the moments when I went, “That is just too preposterous” are the point - maybe the broad strokes about violence, corrupting power, and gender stereotypes are meant to provoke that reaction, then make you reflect “wait . . . I suppose the reverse really is/has been true - maybe this story is precisely accurate, and our society is preposterous.”
Hilarious as ever. I started a re-listen of the Audible edition as a bedtime story and then realized I just really wanted to read this again!
Great characters, amusingly sardonic narration, and a certain cynical optimism about human beings. I'm glad I gave Discworld another try, having been less than thrilled with The Color of Magic and The Light Fantastic.
This had just about everything I like all wrapped up in one short story! (With the exception of Austenian romance I guess - but there's a little roguish flirtation, which will serve.)- a murder mystery (without too much noir confusion, though it definitely has a noir influence)- fantasy creatures- steampunk-ish sci-fi- religious ideas/skepticism (this echoes Gaimain's [b:Murder Mysteries 490789 Murder Mysteries Neil Gaiman https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1301171696l/490789.SY75.jpg 345975] in some great ways)- a saucy rogue (who 100% has the voice of a young Shohreh Aghdashloo in my head)- Lovecraftian elements- feminism- words and concepts I had to look up (and thus learn cool new things)I'm IN for [b:The Haunting of Tram Car 015 36546128 The Haunting of Tram Car 015 (Fatma el-Sha'arawi, #2) P. Djèlí Clark https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1537226167l/36546128.SY75.jpg 58277622], I tell you!
I really like Ford's fire. This was at its best when she caught hold of a topic and gave an opinion that might seem controversial or novel, but she just says it flat-out, unapologetically, and makes you realize that, hey, yeah, abortion doesn't have to be something discussed solely in hushed tones, as an unavoidably Terrible Decision, or hmm, I've been walking around for 30+ years with the unconscious assumption that women kind of owe beauty/thinness/hairlessness to the world, and that is patently ridiculous when you consciously examine it.
At other times, this feels a little rambly, and Ford goes to great lengths discussing issues that are foreign to me (like a program exclusive to Australia) or just not that pertinent in my mind. I feel like feminist writing often centers too much attention on internet trolls, and Ford spends a lot of time on a litany of awful online comments. Maybe people who are unaware of the cesspool of misogynistic comments that is internet comment sections need to see this, but it was just depressing and made me feel weary. Similarly, the extensive catalog of specific, horrifying instances of sexual violence was too much. It seemed to stray from any theme or point, and to just bludgeon the reader to the point of despair.
My other concern is that Ford's attitude toward mental illness is downright dangerous. While it is her personal, lived experience, and she has every right to avoid drugs and use long walks to handle her own anxiety/depression, she sends the message that antidepressants are bad, and frankly comes across very like the most odious David Avocado-style memes that exhort mentally ill people to “just get over” their medical condition with a good dose of nature!
Overall, I'm glad I read this, and I love Ford's passion and courage. I only wish the book were edited a little more tightly, and that she could talk about her mental health struggles without vilifying medical intervention.
I read this for the PopSugar reading challenge prompt “A book you loved as a child.” I actually don't have specific recollections of this book, but I knew that I greatly enjoyed reading Bellairs as a kid, and he was instrumental in developing my enduring love of weird fiction and horror.
Unfortunately this didn't keep its magic for me. It had its moments, but felt a little off-key. I was also struck by how much Catholicism forms the backdrop - probably as a Catholic child, I didn't even notice! But as a non-religious adult, it jumped out at me, and made me wonder how accessible the story is to those of other faiths.
Overall, I think the story has weaknesses in plot and pacing that would be less noticeable to a young reader. And honestly I think my experience of Bellairs was greatly enhanced by the Edward Gorey illustrations that appeared in my old editions. They were absent from this printing, and sorely missed.
It's Agatha Christie - what more needs to be said?
OK, one thing this reinforced for me is that Christie wrote characters and dryly comedic narration so well, her books are eminently re-readable, even though they're mysteries. That's saying something!
Even though I already knew the story, this was so much fun to read. The thing about Christie is she doesn't just plot whodunnits well, she is a wonderful writer all around. Everyone is a fleshed out human, there's good interplay (as always) between Poirot and his sidekick, and in the end this is a profoundly human story, not just a puzzle box.
This was good - Christie does a marvelous job of drawing each character distinctly. I had no trouble keeping straight who was who - a problem I sometimes encounter in mysteries!
The premise is of course a seminal one. Long before reading this, I've enjoyed the movies Clue and Murder by Death, and clearly they owe so much to this single novel. Christie carefully sets and orchestrates the story so her characters are trapped, and they know beyond a reasonable doubt that they're the only people on the island. Then - let the mistrust and paranoia begin!
And I think she plays pretty fair - I didn't figure out the mystery, but when it's explained (hang in there, it gets done), it does track without any authorial shenanigans.
There were two things I didn't care for - the final death seems too convenient, and planned much less meticulously than the others. The second thing is to do with the title - I'll put a spoiler in case you don't already know - I'd say read it without researching this! You can't help but cringe every time you read the word "soldier," knowing it originally said "n****r." Just - HOW, how did society not blink at that?! Well, I'm glad we've made some progress at least.
This is a difficult one to review. The things I liked were in the four-star range, whereas the things I didn't like so much weren't actively negative, but rather just kind of blah.
What I liked:
- An interesting fantasy world that assertively rejects the hobbits-and-elves framework. This goes for more realism - many of the elements could have taken place in a non-magical Renaissance Venice. But this version of Venice is built on the remnants of a technologically advanced, long-vanished civilization, and uses alchemy as its technological driver the way steampunk uses Victorian brass-and-steam.
- An intriguing underworld society that has its own government and even its own secret priesthood.
- A likable band of rogues pulling off heists and confidence games.
- A conflict that mines revenge as a motivator (eventually)
- Some textured and interesting supporting characters (eventually)
- A lot of the themes do come together by the end of the book, in a pretty satisfying way
What I didn't like:
- Most of all, this is SLOW to start. You have to get through half of the book before the main conflict emerges at all. A neat setting and charming characters pulling off capers only maintains interest for so long, unless an actual plot is in evidence. And when the book is 500+ pages, waiting till the halfway point to engage the main narrative is particularly problematic.
- Coming a close second, Locke and his band of merry men are so talented and well-funded that they basically start the story with Story-Breaker Power, which then requires the villain to be nigh-omnipotent to pose a threat, which for me makes things kind of boring. It means either the bad guy will win (usually not allowed, and if allowed, rather a downer), or the good guys will have preposterously good luck to overcome him.
This is a shame, because the backstory does give younger Locke some flaws that could have fueled a more believable challenge for him.
Upshot:
Check this out if world-building is your jam, and you don't mind a leisurely interval where the author introduces background information and you get to know the main characters.
Overall, I think I might check out the next book, because now that the setting and characters are established, it could hook me earlier. And the setting is truly fascinating, plus the first story leaves some characters set up in a really intriguing way for further adventures!
This probably deserves 4 stars just for the creation of Long John Silver, one of the most magnificent characters in English literature. The reader winds up rooting for him as he manipulates his way out of each scrape, even though we know he's a conniving murderer. Stevenson is probably responsible for the entirety of modern pirate lore - our mythical notion of piracy full of amiable rogues and high adventure. Everything from Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean to Talk Like a Pirate Day to Spongebob Squarepants owes so much to this story. And this story still stands up well against its more modern iterations.
I'd say the only thing I didn't like was the repeated cycle of Jim acting like a colossal idiot, only to find that his brainless decision has saved the whole crew. Often I'd pause and think, “Yup, this was clearly written to entertain a 12-year-old boy!” But at least Stevenson has the Doctor call Jim out on it!
After finishing Circe and Song of Achilles, I was happy to see there was an additional Greek myth story by Miller. While it's only a short story, it strongly echoes the things I loved in C[b:Circe 35959740 Circe Madeline Miller https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1508879575s/35959740.jpg 53043399]. It's not for the faint of heart. Basically, All the Trigger Warnings. But I enjoyed Galatea's strong and clever character, and was satisfied with how it ended.
For me, this was like cotton candy. Airy, uncomplicated, and uniformly sugary. Do I normally prefer more nuanced desserts with varied textures and contrasting bitterness? Absolutely. But sometimes I want some cotton candy at the fair, and it's sticky-sweet and short-lived, but enjoyable enough in its own way.
Other 3-star reviews cover my feelings pretty well. I'm not upset that I read this - it was charming if insubstantial. I would certainly be interested in a different take on the same setup, where the characters were more fully drawn, and the protagonist had to learn, unlearn, and/or use various skills that got her out of her comfort zone as a warrior.
What a remarkable book! Even though it sometimes depicts terrible suffering, and raises serious questions about human morality, it never comes across as despairing. The story is so compelling, and Dana such a marvelous, fleshed-out character, I couldn't wait to find out what happened next.
At times I was cheering Dana on, impressed by her grit and courage, while other times I wanted to shake her and save her from her own decisions. I think Butler very deliberately crafted the narrative so the line between the two reactions will vary for different readers. This is reflective of the overarching questions: How much can a person put up with? When does understandable self-preservation cross into unforgivable collaboration? How does privilege skew our moral judgments?
But again, all of this weighty philosophy springs naturally from an amazing, thrilling, harrowing adventure tale. The book never bogs down but maintains tension beautifully, until coming to a fitting conclusion.
Butler's bibliography is going on my Must Read list - not only does she tell a fabulous story, but she transcends the time she was writing in, delivering a story that is fresh and relevant more than 35 years later.