Em
I definitely appreciated this more on a second time round and I will get to the second book eventually. Slow-pacing isn't normally off-putting for me but I definitely seemed to feel it here. I can't put my finger on why.
I was looking forward to this and I'm genuinely quite disappointed. I liked Haynes' ‘The Children of Jocasta' (though I had issues) and I really liked ‘A Thousand Ships'. I also enjoyed her Pandora's Jar collection of essays.
‘Stone Blind' was just so... dull.
For a book about Medusa, there was remarkably little Medusa. Multiple points of view worked in ‘A Thousand Ships', a novel discussing at length the experiences of women during the events of the Iliad. Here, it rings hollow, though some are somewhat creative with the Medusa's snakes' chapter being particularly memorable (though even this one ends on an eye-roll provoking unsubtle final exchange). There is Perseus, there is Poseidon, there is Andromeda and Athene, all featured here in cartoonishly one-dimensional roles. Yes, they all feature significantly in Perseus' story and so their actions impact her. But this is said to specifically be Medusa's story. Due to the unfocused nature of the narrative I never felt any kind of urgency to get back to her. To her, or anyone else for that matter. Perhaps an approach not dissimilar to Madeleine Miller's ‘Circe' would have been more fulfilling in that sense?
Yet even as it stands, as a more traditional re-telling, it feels stilted. There is very little introspection and the narrator often interjects and tells you exactly how to feel. Beats you over the head with it, in fact. While I like the concept of a very opinionated and completely unreliable narrator, I don't feel it is executed well here. The abundance of attempted witticisms didn't work for me either.
There are some good moments of tension and atmosphere built well: Poseidon and Medusa in Athene's temple, for example, or the previously mentioned Medusa's snakes chapter. Those from the perspective of an Olive branch and a crow were also quite unique. Unfortunately, these were few and far between, and not enough to make the book compelling. Overall, it falls flat.
2/5 stars.
The perfect Christmas read. I'm a simple woman, I see “TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.” and I hit the five star button. Happy hogswatch! :)
Characters introduced in the first three chapters: Sigi, Skadi, Signy, Sigmund and Siggeir. With the utmost affection, I hate mythology.
(30/07/22) ‘Into this wild abyss, The womb of nature and perhaps her grave, Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, But all these in their pregnant causes mixed Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, Unless the almighty maker them ordain His dark materials to create more worlds, Into this wild abyss the wary fiend Stood on the brink of hell and looked a while, Pondering his voyage...' - John Milton, Paradise Lost
His Dark Materials is so enormously ambitious that even in some instances where Philip Pullman doesn't quite stick the landing, you have to give him credit for the attempt alone. Daemons are so deceptively simple but may be one of my favourite concepts in a novel ever. A retelling of The Fall/Paradise Lost weaving together threads of parallel universes, theology, philosophy and good old fashioned adventure. Magnificent
[read 25/12/24] Much to think about. For better or for worse, full Sanderson. Wobbled around 3 stars for a while, so reality is probably around a 3.5 as this book had by far some of his weakest prose to date, but it did stick the landing and I did get emotional in the end. Gonna miss this gang!
[20/02/24] It has been a year since the first one came out, but I don't remember it being as meandering as this. Honestly, I found the whole thing quite dull. But what drove me truly bananas is the fact that the reader isn't trusted at all.
“‘Absolutely the fuck not,' said Yatho. ‘I'd not trust the either of you with a goat, let alone a child.'
Inara winced. Yatho just then had sounded exactly like Kissen. Elo clearly thought so too, because his colours sparkled with recognition in the colour of Kissen's auburn hair.” p54.
Why not just “Inara winced. Elo's colours sparkled auburn.” Hell, even just “Inara winced” would have done the job. The reader has spent enough time with Kissen to notice the similarity. We get it!
“His breath stopped, his eyes stilled. Dead. The boy was dead. The first person she had killed was barely more than a child, barely older than Inara.” p87
When the previous three-hundred and four pages that constitute the previous book alongside the first eighty-seven of this one establish (many times) that your heroine kills gods, NOT people (and also has an affinity for the child protagonist) you don't need to spend this long to make sure the reader truly GETS it. She killed a child! A boy! We GET it already.
Maybe were I to go back to the first I'd look less kindly on it. Maybe it genuinely was much more polished. Maybe one day I'll go back and see!
Regardless, I found this disappointing.
[Read 04/11/23] Excellent. Gorgeously written and vulnerable and fierce. One of those surprising novels that comes along and reminds you of why you love to read in the first place.
[Read 18/03/24] Tommy Orange's ability to make the voice of every chapter ring true and remain distinct while maintaining his sensibilities as a writer is such a talent.
While ‘Wandering Stars' feels less propulsive than ‘There, There' this book that acts as prequel, sequel and stand-alone is content to, well, wander. It worked. Spanning from the Sand Creek massacre in 1864 to the aftermath of ‘There, There' in 2018 it has a broader scope than the original novel but no less its depth of character. Chapter Eleven, written from the perspective of a mother speaking to her unborn child stood out so strongly that on finishing the novel I re-read that particular section again.
“I take solace in knowing my heart is still in my chest, that yours is in there too, beating like a drum waiting for its dancer, keeping me on my feet, ready for a rhythm, ready for what's next, because what's next is always coming.”
I'm so glad that Tommy Orange took a chance and tried something new for this book. I'll be eagerly waiting for whatever he decides to do next.
[Reread 23/05/24] I first read this ten years ago and found it terrifying and reading it now as an adult it's even more terrifying. I hope I don't reread it in ten more years.
I haven't read these books in 11 years since Mockingjay came out (yes I was probably too young, yes I loved it). It holds up fantastically! Not only am I very nostalgic but I'll still never forgive Suzanne Collins for what she did to Finnick Odair :(
A lot of these conclusions seemed not only obvious to a 21st century reader but they are also expressed in a very try-hard way. I understand it's for more casual readers, but I still found it neither insightful nor particularly clever. As someone who has studied a lot of these texts it was quite bland and meandering.
I enjoyed this. It's very funny and very charming. Why only three stars? I just couldn't get attached to any of the characters. I don't know if it was to do with the writing style or the bouncing around from generation to generation, but I did read that this novel had been turned into a play in London and couldn't help but feel this would have ticked more boxes for me in that format due to the quirkiness of the characters and comedy.