This was a fun read. It was my first foray into Brandon Sanderson, so I had no idea what I was getting into. The magic system was quite detailed and a very cool concept, but because it's a short book with such complex magic, there were points where I felt like describing how the magic worked seemed to take up too much space. That said, it was mixed into the story in a way that didn't make it feel like I was reading a text book on magic. It was a good story that ran at a good pace, and I can't deny I was thoroughly entertained.
Part puzzle, part character study, part adventure, it ticks all the boxes of a solid stand-alone novella. The story mostly centres around a young prisoner. The only thing keeping her alive is her singular ability in the use of Forgery: a very unique type of magic that can rewrite the history of an object. Because the nature of the magic is based essentially in trickery and the changing of history, the protagonist always keeps other characters - and the reader - guessing what is true, what is a lie, and what she's planning. This all builds up into a real page-turner of a climax, all while building a unique relationship between characters.
In the afterward, Sanderson said that he was inspired by Korean history, and it seemed to do justice to that style of rule without being blatant or overstepping and acting like he could write a Korean story. I felt that the emphasis on the power of the ruling clans was a dynamic that was very well played out. I worried that because of Sanderson's prolific nature, the fantasy would be generic or predictable, but on the contrary, it was a very original story.
The only thing that I found odd about his style was his aversion to violence. The climax was very high action, but everyone who got hurt or attacked was hurt or attacked in a way that conveniently reassured the reader that they would be ok, and I actually found the unnecessary detail a bit distracting. Overall though, it was a very fun and fulfilling fantasy story, and I will definitely revisit the Cosmere at some point.
The first volume was very promising, but this issue seals the deal. Mikasa is one of the best female characters in the genre (certainly my favourite), and this volume is all Mikasa! It's almost too bad that Eren comes back. This series would have been so groundbreaking if the first issue's classic ambitious, foolhardy young male protagonist ends up being eaten, and the series instead ends up being an action series starring an unstoppable young woman who sees titans as just a more obvious type of monster.
In this issue the world of the titans and the complexity of the characters' situation really opens up, and you start to see the depth of what this series can be. I watched some of the show before reading this series, so I know the twists are coming up, but it's really fun the second time around and just as gripping.
As a fan of Alan Moore's Swamp Thing, I found it hard to swallow how it basically undid and criticized every aspect of what Moore brought to the character. While Moore's version was groundbreaking, this was predictable. Moore's had deep female characters and rejected the typical macho hero, while this book is all about macho characters and pointless action, and very light on deep characters, even lighter on female characters (even Abigail was turned macho, welding a gun, short hair, motorcycle, it's like the writer was forced against his will to include a woman at all). It even rejected the narrative about the value of the natural world, which just made no sense.
The art was ok, but definitely failed to take advantage of gorgeous natural details in the way the 80s version of the comic did, instead going for a more classic hard-line look to fit the actiony style I guess.
A stunning piece of literature.
Despite being a well-read lover of science fiction, I never got around to reading Bradbury before. I think because this was commonly known as a high school book, often compared to Orwell, and because I understood and read dystopian books inspired by F451, I figured I'd sufficiently absorbed the story through cultural osmosis, and didn't actually need to read the book.
I now realize that I have done myself a grave disservice for not reading this earlier. While I did indeed know what the jist of it would be, this book really proves that how a story is told can be just as important as the story itself. Bradbury elicits such powerful feelings around the steady changing of the protagonist's mind, that as a reader I felt like I could fully empathize with the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing. And that ultimately makes all the difference.
One can always just say “yes, books are important, no we shouldn't let government or corporate interests tell us how to think or feel, and yes art and culture has value,” but these values that so many of us hold (Hello Goodreads audience) can sometimes be hard to articulate, because after all wouldn't it be easier to not worry about what's going on in our world, to not have to understand different perspectives. If we had nothing to disagree about, wouldn't that be lovely in a way?
Bradbury really confronts that dissonance, and not with reason so much as with emotion, and that's really what stunned me. Yes, culture is messy, learning is almost always unfairly distributed, and understanding others and disagreeing can all be hard, but what are we without this. Can one feel fulfilled? Or will we lose the very ability to articulate whether or not we're happy or why we feel what we feel?
I fear this book will never lose its relevance, but at least that means there's always a good excuse to read some truly top notch writing.
PS. I listened to the audiobook narrated by Tim Robbins, and he was absolutely spectacular! It was 5.5hrs and finished it in 4 days, so there's another plus: it's short, and good in paper or audio.
A book-lover's book:
This was a beautifully written and very fun book. It is a winding and twisting story filled with Gothic themes and a dozen smaller stories entwined within it. What makes it a book for book-lovers is that it is about a boy whose life is turned upside down after reading a darkly beautiful book that seems eerily similar to the one you are reading. This book is essentially a statement on itself and to a greater extent, a statement on the power a book can have on those who read them.
Metaphor aside, the plot is great, the characters are great and the writing is superb. There are mysteries and surprises throughout and just as you feel you have a grip on what's going on, the story takes a mad and unexpected twist. The characters are flawed but lovable - even the enemies. The whole world has the feel of being a slightly fantastic version of real life; Devils and curses are everywhere, but in post-war Spain, it is still very real and gritty. Finally, the quotes and notable phrases are non-stop! This book did not change my world the way the main character's book did, but I had a lot of fun reading it.
Objectively speaking, this is an excellent book, but I personally didn't get fully attached. My only real criticism is that it felt like this book was trying to do too much at once, and it felt a little disjointed at times. It was a good vs evil adventure and an American odyssey, with a small-town mystery side-story and a bunch of mini-stories in between. The result was pretty epic, but because so much was going on, I never felt fully invested in any of the story lines. I also felt like the end of the book dragged on because there were so many ends that needed tying up. Over all, I feel like this book might have been better as a series of stories in the American Gods world, or something to that effect.
That said though, any individual chapter of this book is gold. The diversity of intriguing characters is astounding, and the mini-stories within the book were all great. It's also renewed my interest in mythology because of the preponderance of obscure gods and interesting mythological tidbits. When it came to the big picture though, I was left without a feeling of emotional investment. It could have done with half the amount of story and included instead some more intimacy with the characters.
This book tells the important story of Residential Schools in recent Canadian history, and Richard Wagamese tells this story in a gripping and touching fashion. The author's writing style is succinct but it loses no emotion, making him an excellent story teller.
The book begins with the reader meeting Saul Indian Horse, an Ojibwe man in rehab. In order to find out where his life went wrong, he tells the story of his childhood, wherein he has a tragic family past and a difficult time adhering to a life in the Canadian Residential School system. At the school, he learns to play hockey and it becomes his escape from everyday horrors, but facing discrimination from non-Native hockey players makes him struggle to hold on to the sport he loves.
While reading this, I couldn't help but wonder why this book was not part of the school curriculum. It is an easy read, and its focus on hockey makes it very relatable for youth and particularly young men, and most importantly, it highlights a crucial piece of Canadian modern history and culture. Some parts may be uncomfortable to some, but it is crucial that as Canadians, we acknowledge the shameful parts of our history so that we can avoid repeating them in the future.
If you do not like hockey, there may be some chapters of this book that merit skimming, but over all, I strongly recommend this book.
This is my first time reading Robinson, and I was instantly floored by this man's skills as a writer. I have told my peers that if he didn't write genre fiction, he'd probably have a prestigious literary award to his name. His descriptions of the settings this story travel to alone are worth the read. At points, it felt like I was taking a guided tour of the solar system: riding the rings of Saturn, jogging along Mercury to stay ahead of the coming dawn, and my favourite part, public transit by way of hollowed out asteroids with man-made climates built inside. Just imagine the next time you travel being asked “on your way, would you like to experience the environment of an ice age expidition, safari, rain forest or rural France?”
The characters, philosophies and basically everything about this book is brilliant. In short, (cliche warning) it's a tour de force.
This book is about 15% plot, and the rest is concept, setting, and character, and that's the way I like it. But I hold back on 5 stars only because the lack of plot combined with the size of the book, and the long bouts of descriptive writing meant I had a hard time keeping momentum. When a side character's story came back to the fold, I would realize I'd forgotten what that character's part of the story was, and would get kind of lost. Maybe this is a 2020 problem as much as any (I was reading this when the second wave of COVID hit and the American election happened, and my attention was obviously strained) so maybe this is an unfair criticism. But such was my reading experience.
I recommend highly to any reader not afraid of a little detail, but not really for people who need a “page turner”.
I loved the first two books in this series as was among the first people to put my name on the hold list for this, but despite being ready to love it, I was quite disappointed.
Admittedly, writing a massive historical piece about the politics of the 60s and 70s has many more challenges than writing about the World War eras; specifically there was no single all-encompassing war to write around, but multiple loosely connected events. But Follett for whatever reason felt the need to get characters personally involved in every major event, which created a series of scattered and totally unrealistic story lines with very little cohesiveness or character development.
The interactions between families felt forced and unnecessary unlike in the previous stories, and his attempt at writing conservative characters who did not come off as evil was a total failure. Do I regret reading this? No. The parts that concluded the stories of the original characters was very touching and I was satisfied with how everything was tied up. But as a stand-alone novel, this book really dropped the ball.
This story is based off of an older horror comic series by the same name that got cancelled. Revived in the 80s with Alan Moore at the helm, the series stood out as singularly astounding in a world of predictable super heroes. It was his eerily beautiful, complex and disturbing work in this series that launched his career and allowed him to make his now famous graphic novels.
I think what really blew me away about this series was how deeply engrossing it was, even though it contains almost no action scenes. The Swamp Thing himself does very little, but his world is addictive, his struggle for identity is intriguing and heart-breaking, and the challenges he faces are truly frightening. And of course, the writing style and skill is unparalleled.
Also, the book is so far ahead of its time that if it were published today, it would probably still be considered ahead of its time when compared to the DC and Marvel comics that come out today. Swamp Thing's female companion is as complex and unpredictable as the Swamp Thing himself, and there's levels of reflection to be found in every enemy and every side character. It is deeply philosophical without being pretentious and without losing its dynamic.
This is essential reading for lovers of comics and graphic novels. Lovers of non-stop action may not enjoy it as much, but everyone should give it a try regardless... Unless you're prone to nightmares. This is a “horror” comic after all.