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Contains spoilers
Loved the first three books of this series; didn't make it through the first chapter of this one.
(here comes the mildly spoilery part)
It's one thing to have your female protagonist rename herself Ophelia. It's entirely another to have said protagonist suddenly and violently change personality to match Shakespeare's Ophelia. How is this sudden desperation for male validation coming from our brave badass bitch who for three books has barely batted an eye at handling her business? What is this long drawn-out teenage girl meltdown? I don't know who this person even is any more.
I thought Rhiannon was - slightly terrifying, but great. My personal opinion perhaps, but I hate Ophelia; if the series had started out with her I'd have never gone on reading it.
As much as I liked the idea of this book, silly me, I signed up for the author's newsletter only to find her incredibly aggressive with pushing her $99 a month coaching community. While I'm sure if you have that kind of money the service is well worth it, it left me feeling as though apparently only rich women deserve to take back their brains. Might revisit in the future once I've gotten the bad taste out of my mouth.
Started this months ago and now I'm remembering why I didn't finish it then. I think I might have been able to find more sympathy for the whiny, complaining, self-pitying protagonist if he'd been university-aged. But this grown-ass man (who's co-owned his own business with his best friend for something like a decade?) spends an entire book sulking and punishing everyone around him rather than just telling literally anybody that he's unhappy with the current state of affairs.
All credit to the author, I guess, who writes compellingly enough that I actually finished reading about this incredibly unlikable MC. Don't read this unless you enjoy wishing you could reach into a book and slap the sense into someone (maybe that's the appeal, I'm not sure)
This takeoff of Sense and Sensibility is so subtly and skillfully done that I would probably not have clocked it as a takeoff at all on the first reading if the front cover and character names hadn't telegraphed it. Which is not a complaint! I don't come across books in the romance space that are written with such clear literary sensibilities, especially with such (fantastic) spicy scenes included. As someone who very much enjoys that sort of thing I found this glorious. (The first chapter of this book especially is in and of itself Literature and should be taught in college classes. It's that good.)
Frothy, swashbuckling fun in an unusual setting (how often do you read books set in Peru?) I couldn't help but like Kiki and Ana (who, I had to come back to update this - who were apparently real? It may be fluffy of me, but I appreciate the author's choice to make this book about them entertaining to read rather than perfectly, flawlessly historically accurate)
Just a couple months ago I was all set to read Emily Wilson's translation of the Iliad. Sat down, all excited - only to immediately bounce off harder than I've bounced off any book in a while. Which wasn't Wilson's fault (she's more than competent generally, I loved Inanna) just I'd managed to forget how much the beginning of the Iliad is men shouting and posturing. After a few pages, it all started to sound like "Penis. Penis penis penis, penis penis" and I couldn't take it seriously any more. (Again. I do not blame Wilson, whose translation skills are renowned, in the slightest. I blame the original source material.)
Unless for some reason I need a direct quote, I doubt I'll bother reading the actual Iliad again. I'll just read Song of Achilles. This book is just...full of light. It's one of the most exquisitely written things I've read in a long time - and I read Circe! And as much as I sobbed through that, there's a warmth and depth to Patroclus's relationship with Achilles that isn't achievable by a single character, however resonant she is.
I loved this so much. If you haven't read it yet you're really missing out.
Ballet body horror was not at all a thing I'd have expected to ever find myself enjoying, but I liked this book. This is a shimmering feverdream of a novel - no jump scares here, the frightening bits roll in slowly and organically. Not everyone's topic, but the adventurous stand a good chance at enjoying this.
This seems like a great story, but I tend to read right before bed and this book (don't laugh) is legitimately too scary to read just before sleep. I found myself constantly terrified for the two young female protagonists. Perhaps I'll try again sometime when I have more time to read during the day.
Madeline Miller and Costanza Cosati (and let's add Emily H. Wilson to that) with their grace and lyricality have spoiled me. I thought that since this was similar subject matter I'd like it, and it does look to be a perfectly serviceable story. But the constant Americanisms are jarring, and the overall writing style just isn't clicking for me (wrote the picky English major) Maybe some other time.
Don't be like me and start this before bedtime; you'll stay up to finish it and not even notice. (Also don't be scared of the title; it isn't what you think, in all the best possible ways. It's dark, but not as dark as you think; it's heavy, but not as heavy as you think, and utterly engrossingly human.)
(I devoured this and am about to dive into the next one. Yarros's handling of dragons absolutely makes the book; might actually be better than early Anne McCaffrey, and that's saying something. If you like the dragon-having, mildly dystopian kind of fantasy and you haven't read this yet, WHAT ARE YOU DOING STRAIGHTEN OUT YOUR LIFE. Leaving the notes I wrote as I was reading for my own edification, but this turned out to be drastically better than I was expecting.)
Ten chapters in: I'm not at all sure this is a fantasy "unlike anything I've read before," as the blurb proclaims, so much as it's Divergent with dragons. And much like Divergent, so far the story beats are pretty predictable. Like many newcomers to the ring, Ms. Yarros's enthusiasm is certainly there but the punches are a bit...telegraphed.
However - let me be clear: I have read most of Veronica Roth's books, and enjoyed them. However, that same enthusiasm in Fourth Wing lends itself to a tighter pacing than Divergent. To fight scenes that crackle with energy, and protagonists who are neither overly powered nor overly preachy (and whose chemistry is, thus far, palpable)
It's not perfect, but my attention has been caught. I'll keep reading (and if my mind changes, will update when done)
***Chapter 16***
NEVER MIND
THIS SLAPS GO READ IT
such weird dialogue. Do New Zealanders really talk to each other this way? Just wasn't in the mood
