Rhonda
I thought most of the women in here, and Capote, were insufferable. Then I had to think what it must have been like to grow up a southern gay man a hundred years ago. I've never grown up a gay man at all but I did grow up in the south and it was hard for LGBTQ even in my day, so I started to feel sympathy for his desire to fit in with the original fag hag cast of shrews.
I don't like to be a jerk. I enjoyed it, mostly, but the last 30% was a real slog. I kept waiting for Stanley to wrap it the heck up....
I had to go back and edit this because, honestly, it's inspired me to cook. So, thanks Stan. Sorry I called 30% of your life a slog. It was actually good again at the end. Parmesan stock in the bolognese? Perfect. The martini? Thanks. My husband is a bartender and confirmed all the 30 seconds this and that would matter. So of course I made him do it. Honestly, someone else's effort is the best seasoning.
Let me cut to the chase: I found the book largely ridiculous.
The plot of “The Fourth Wing” revolves around Violet, a young woman grappling with a condition that I guess is basically EDS, except it gives her some sort of weird hair. Yarros can't stop herself from
using the word “subluxate” as often as possible. Any time Violet strains a little bit, she's bound to subluxate something.
Violet's life takes a turn as she's made to join an elite league of dragon riders who protect the realm of Navarre, in spite of spending her life up to the ripe old age of 20 preparing to become a scribe. Her
oppressive mother, a predictable trio of love interests, and the bonding of the weakest girl at school with the strongest dragon shape the plot.
Beyond the plot lies a narrative that, while not infuriating, lacks the depth to truly captivate. Yarros seems inexplicably enamored with the word “chuffed,” which is all the dragons in the book seem to
really do. The male protagonist's ceaseless smirking, along with his
textbook “hotness,” sent me into a rage more than once. How can one guy smirk so many times on one damn page? We get it. His only real facial expression is smirking. Of course this super hot badass guy loves smart women and recognizes Violet's underlying strength.
The culmination of their sexual tension, which isn't tense–you know from the start they're eventually going to have sex–feels really out of touch. It's as if Yarros harnessed her imagination from TikTok and brought it to life with forceful clumsiness. They have sex, they
destroy a room, the dialog made me cringe, the emotional depth was
lacking.
I thought Yarros would be a 20 year old TikToker who had never had
sex, but read her biography at the end and she's some 40-something
mother of six which made me laugh.
The writing is terrible. Short, choppy sentences started with “but” break up the book.
I have more criticisms than an Instagram post will hold. “The Fourth Wing” had potential to be a captivating tale, but falls short on multiple fronts. I will possibly read the second book–if I feel like
self-flagellating.
I really had to slog through this. Parts were interesting but sometimes it felt like I was just reading a long grocery list. Hakken (I listened on audio so forgive the spelling) had literally everything happen to him. From being whored to somehow getting mixed up in basically Mountain Meadows, to then being Broke Back.
I used to think I liked Marcus Samuelsson. As a longtime Food Network watcher, lover of chopped and all of that, I thought he was probably a pretty good guy.
And then I decided to get his memoir on an audible deal. The illusion is over. Marcus Samuelsson is, simply put, a pretentious asshole.
The only good thing I can say about this book is I learned a few things about food.
Other than that, the book made me reminiscent of the new movie The Menu. His descriptions of the military-like work environment of the kitchen, in particular.
Enter spoilers.
Moving on to the part where Marcus Samuelsson is an asshole:
1) He's kind of a dick about his parents. His dad was a college professor. Guess what? Not once does he seem thankful for the fact his parents bankrolled his life well into his 20s, paying his child support for his illegitimate child, or waiting for him to make some money while he went off and worked for free... While telling us how hard it is to be a black chef, which I am NOT arguing, he never once touches on the privilege he literally reeks of throughout the book. And never once did I hear a particular thank you to his parents.
2) His grandma dies, he just keeps on workin' cos that's what kitchen people apparently do. No emotions can go into perfect pastries or whatever.
3) Did I mention he had an illegitimate child? Ohhh, in Sweden a gal just gets an abortion and the guy pays for half. Well dude, putting aside you might have used a condom in your wild night of abandon, not everyone gets abortions. but apparently it's totally cool to let your parents pay for your mistake because you're not ready, you're not at a 3 star restaurant, you have to go off to New York... “I thought about doing the right thing and marrying her...” Nah, I doubt it. The only thing Marcus Samuelsson thinks about is Marcus Samuelsson.
4) He goes out drinking with his friends and participates in getting a bunch of them killed and maimed because he sucks at decision making. The driver of the car they hit head on is but a footnote... Don't worry though, he sees the world and gets successful all in honor of his dead friends.
5) He puts off meeting his daughter for 14 years because he's “not ready.”
6) He created his child while cheating on a girlfriend he was too big of a puss to make it clear to that he was no longer interested in dating.
Samuelsson is not a nice dude. I wish I'd never acquired this book. It did fuel my rage while I listened while rowing so honestly I probably had better rows because of my disgust with this guy the whole time. Keep on ruining lives out there, dude.
The story was meh. Lady has weird dream, is dissatisfied with life, has best friend, best friend gets sick...
...I can no longer tolerate books that take place in NYC. They are always so snooty. All the name dropping and they always come with fashion. I was wearing J Crew this, he was wearing a sweater from such and such while we frolicked over to this place so superior blah blah. Kills the story.
I really don't like this book. I'm over half through and still considering DNF. It is really dated, which usually I'm okay with. It was a struggle to get through the first quarter simply because for some reason there has to be space boning and orgies every night. Women, even in command, are basically cannon fodder and I KNOW it was written in 1975 but dude, you could have done better. Poor little Marygay can barely manage to get a suit on ffs.
