Elle

One of my favorite things to wonder is what a random person from the distant past would think of today’s world. If plucked from their time and dropped into ours, what would they think of electricity, internet, modern medicine? What about smaller stuff, like the way we talk, current fashion, and, depending on when exactly they’re from, how long everyone lives? It’s a fascinating thing to think about. And now I have a new thing to wonder: What on earth gave Kaliane Bradley the right to take this concept and break my heart with it!?

The Ministry of Time is a great example of a book whos author knows exactly what they’re doing. Kaliane Bradley has researched the time periods of her characters so well that they feel completely real and alive (and in the case of Graham Gore, he actually was alive in the 1800s as a member of the Royal Navy and an explorer, though very little is known about his life other than that). They jump off the page and say “Look at me! I’m from the past and I’m amazed by your world!” This is especially the case with Margaret, a woman from the 1600s, which we all know is a time when women weren’t treated very well. Margaret absolutely thrives in the 21st century, taking great interest in feminism, crop tops, and the freedom she never saw or even dreamed of in her life before time travel. I loved reading about her adventures and how she took to modern life with such gusto.

The romance between the MC and Graham is an extremely slow burn and I enjoyed every minute of it. Between the MC’s ‘modern-day woman’ views and Graham’s ‘man from the 1800s’ behaviors, they had some incredible, laugh out loud banter. Their relationship is complicated, but sweet, and I love that their romance isn’t the main focus. As the daughter of a woman from Cambodia, our MC is half british, half Cambodian, and she experiences thinly-veiled racism and xenophobia on a regular basis. As she shares her experiences, there are parallels between her story and that of Graham’s who, as an ‘expat’ (as they call the time-travelers), is something of a migrant himself, though he has come from the past rather than another country, which I found very interesting.

Although there was a part towards the end of the book that felt a little cliché, I am overall very happy with The Ministry of Time and I loved the ending. I’d easily recommend this one to anyone who loves speculative fiction, slow burn romance, or the concept of bringing people forth from the past to see what the heck they’d think of the future.

Whoa, what a book. A teacher seeks revenge after her only reason for living is ripped away. I was absolutely gripped from the start. The first chapter alone could have been an insane short story and I'd have been satisfied, but I'm more than glad it was longer.

Each chapter is written from a different point of view, and sometimes multiple people describe the same series of events, so bits of information are repeated, but in a different way. For some, it might feel repetitive, but I didn't think it was a problem at all. It was interesting to see things from more than one angle.

I'd like to say more about the plot, but I went in blind and I think you should too. It's a perfect revenge thriller. Reminded me of Old Boy. Yeah, it has THAT kind of jaw-dropping revenge. The best kind. 

When I was about a quarter of the way through Scythe, I was telling my boyfriend about it and he said “If the Thunderhead (the AI that knows all and has solved all of humanity’s problems, thus allowing them to live in a utopia) is all-knowing and capable of so much, why can it solve every problem except over-population? It doesn’t make sense.” And that was it. Before he asked the question, I was perfectly willing to accept that Scythes were necessary, but after? I couldn’t make sense of it. Why couldn’t the Thunderhead solve over-population? It solved world hunger. It solved death! I know that without the Scythes, there wouldn’t have been a book, so I moved on (mostly), but I thought about it every once in a while as I read and I do wish there was a better explanation for their existence.

Anyway… I liked the main characters, though I feel Citra didn’t have as much development as Rowan. They both struggled with being Scythe apprentices, but Rowan dealt with a lot more strife and moral dilemmas. I found his sections more interesting and exciting, and going through all of that with him made me like him more. Side characters were interesting as well, and even the “villains” weren’t necessarily villains depending on who you are and what you believe.

I loved the way the Scythes each had their own method of gleaning people. It made for some interesting thought about how I would glean if I was a Scythe. I found it funny that in a utopia without government, they still ended up with the untouchable Scythes, who made their own rules and felt very much like a corrupt government, furthering the idea that corruption is inescapable.

I wasn’t expecting the book to be as twisty as it was, maybe because it had quite the slow start and didn’t get into twists until pretty late in the book, but they were fun and exciting. I love the way it ended, I think it was perfect and it made me really excited for the next book. I expect Thunderhead (the title of the next book) to be more fast-paced because I think Shusterman had to take some time setting up the series and explaining how the world works with Scythe, which slowed it down a bit. We’ll see!

I find it incredibly difficult to find meaningful things to say about books I really love. I have all these thoughts that are too intense to put into words. I want to say so much more than “omg it was so good,” but that's all that comes out. Idk, maybe I just need a thesaurus. But, I mean, OMG IT WAS SO GOOD. 

Of course I enjoyed the entire book but the last half is what really did me in. For a good chunk of the last part of The Night Circus, I was overcome with so many different feelings, it was overwhelming. As I got closer to the end I dreaded it, feeling as though I might not be able to take it. My eyes were forever teary and I was on the verge of crying for so long that when I finally finished, when I finally closed the book, I erupted into intense ugly sobs, causing my boyfriend to rush to my side, concerned I was in pain or dying or something. 

If this book doesn't give me a hangover, then I am immune to them. 

UPDATE: It is days later and I still cry when I think of The Night Circus. I've been reading discussions about the book and people keep saying they feel that the relationship between Celia and Marco was rushed and that it was told but not shown. I usually don't care what other people think about the stuff I like but I found myself stewing over that comment, wondering how they could possibly be so blind to something that was shown, it was shown! And so beautifully, too! Ugh.

I've never had such an intense emotional reaction to a book that latched on and refused to let go. I think I can safely say The Night Circus is my favorite book ever.

I am 100% convinced that that best way to consume this beautiful, yet disturbing novel is through audio. The book is written in first person, very casually. The main character, Kathy, goes off on tangents or will start talking about an event and then remember she has to tell the reader about a prior event in order to give this current one some context. It's as if your friend is sitting beside you telling you the story of her early years and that's what makes the audiobook so much better than the physical book. It really feels even more like Kathy is talking to you, she's sharing something with you specifically. 

Kathy's reflections on her time at Hailsham and her relationships with other students and the guardians were all very interesting to me and the stories from her early childhood especially felt very realistic and even brought up some memories of my own childhood. As the children grew up at the boarding school, they learned bit by bit what it meant to be a student at Hailsham, but none of them fully understood until after they graduated, and even then some things were still murky. Kathy and her friends knew they were special, and the guardians even told them so, but what it truly meant to be so special was never clearly spelled out during their time at Hailsham. So much of what they really needed to know was hidden within their school lessons. Or in a rumor, a whisper, an overheard conversation. Their lives were puzzles they only got a piece of every once in a while but tried to put together anyway and it was heartbreaking to “witness.”