Ywa
This is how the sickness travels best: through all the same channels as do fondness and friendship and love.”
Too many POVs I didn't care about, I wish she has focused on fewer characters and develop them better. However, I did enjoy the writing style, it felt whimsical, somehow. The parts where she would describe people's reactions to the contagion were simply eerie. She described to a tee what's been happening in these past few weeks, it gave me chills.
What shapes us is not always our achievements but our omissions. Not lies; simply the truths we don't tell.”
Something about the way it was written kept me at a distance from the characters even if the mystery kept me interested. More so, when when it was revealed what had really happened, I couldn't help feeling disappointed.
“Such a love was not something of just the heart and mind. It wasn't something to be felt and eventually forgotten, to be touched without it in return touching you. No . . . this love was something else. Something irrevocable. It was something of the soul.”
Is it the worst thing I've ever read? No. It was fast-paced and mildly engaging a couple of times. But, overall, it was just so bland. Like boiled unseason potatoes. I adore potatoes, not without salt though.
For me, the world-building was weak. The magic system is barely explained, we have just one massive info dump in the middle of the book. The characters were no better. Lou was just simply annoying. Loud, over-the-top snarky, obnoxious. Reid just didn't make sense. He switched sides awfully fast. I don't see why he cared about her. Or her about him. My husband this, my wife that. Who talks like that when they've just gotten into a marriage of convenience? They are virtually strangers. They fall ‘in love' in a matter of days. The character I enjoyed the most was Coco, I wish she has more space in the book. The rest of the characters felt like decor.
The plot felt kind of ridiculous too, just as the twists. The language, modern and crass is an unpleasant choice considering the action is taking place in medieval-like times. Also, the French random inserts were cringy.
I don't get the hype around this one either. Eh, what else is new?
I wonder if Marquez read this and decided to do a version of his own... I have no idea why I decided to read Kawabata again. I really didn't need yet another soulless ramble from an old man facing his aging, impotency, and fear of death by fetishizing infantilized women put at his disposal like objects. I really could have gone without hearing him describing how the drugged, unconscious, naked young woman on the bed smelled milky like an infant and reminded him of that time he bit another woman so hard her nipples were bleeding. Oh, the adventures of youth...And it goes on in a similar tone for another 100 pages. Oh yes, but his musings on mortality are so life-changing...Not.
I know it's fiction and that 1960's Japan is a parallel universe, but I just don't care. Even setting aside the ‘sleeping beauties' theme, the book doesn't stand out, I can't see what's so relatable or beautiful about it.
The prose was relaxing and meditative, it's very readable. It was quite nice when they were in the forest foraging and cooking mushrooms as I was listening to this unfold in the audiobook while I was cooking mushrooms on my stove (I alternated between the audio and the paperback). I enjoyed the descriptions of the foods they were eating in general because I'm a foodie and Japanese cuisine is one of my favorites.
However, at the end of the book, my peace was disrupted when she confessed. Had they stayed platonic, it would have worked better for me as I can't buy it that they're a suitable romantic pairing since she sounds younger than 37 and he has grandad vibes being almost seventy in age and spirit. The fact that they used to be teacher and student gives me, even more, indigestion. On top of it all, he keeps bringing up his ex-wife like she's still a central part of the story for him. I understand why they would become friends as they're both strange and antisocial so they are quite lonely, however, the romance part felt out of nowhere and it transformed into an uncomfy dynamic.
At one point he mentions something like “what a lovely girl you are Tsukiko”, with emphasis on the girl. Why is he calling a grown woman a girl unless he somehow still sees her as his high school student? He does often remark on how she used to be in school so that the past is not too far in his mind. Our parents see us as still children even when we're old, at least my mother does and I'd argue it's not quite healthy, so to see this dynamic in a couple makes me uneasy.
I am a bit disappointed I didn't love it more because it's been quite hyped but I guess it is, what it is.
Christmas and London are a match made in heaven.
they don't seem to click until the end of the book and the transition is so abrupt that I wanted to go back and make sure I didn't blank out on some pages. One minute she was with James in Venice and then she breaks up with him and saying 'I love you' to Alex. It took them the entire book to clarify that Emma was just a fling.
So this won not one, but two Goodreads choice awards, for Best Romance and Best Debut Novel...mkay.
Short version: This book felt overly lengthy, uninspired, and quite dull. It was overloaded with politics when all I really wanted was a straightforward love story. I couldn't connect with a narrative that ultimately idealizes a lot of aspects of American imperialism and British colonialism.
Long version
While the book aimed to be a contemporary romance novel, it often felt more like an idealistic fantasy. The central premise of the First Son of the United States falling in love with a British prince was certainly intriguing, but the execution left much to be desired. The characters, especially Alex, the First Son, and Henry, the Prince, came across as one-dimensional and failed to undergo significant development throughout the narrative. They were plagued by stereotypes and clichés that made it difficult to truly connect with them on a deeper level.
Alex being the son of the first female president of USA, who's not only divorced and re-married but her first husband is Latin-American, and him being instrumental in turning Texas blue is straight up out of this world. As much as I wanted to believe in this scenario, I just couldn't suspend my disbelief. The heavy propaganda around American democracy didn't help either, as it's quite obvious that America is not the beacon of democracy it claims to be, not even on the democratic party side.
On the one hand, the book attempts to address and challenge some social issues with which I can align with. It contributes to the lgbtq+ representation in mainstream literature and tackles some diversity and inclusivity. These are commendable efforts towards fostering a more inclusive literary landscape.
However, my skepticism toward American politics, in general, made it challenging for me to fully embrace the story's portrayal of the political landscape. The book leaned heavily into idealized and oversimplified political caricatures.
The character development also left me wanting more. Alex and Henry, and the side characters, came across as one-dimensional and static. I had hoped for more growth and depth, particularly considering the potential of their unique love story. Instead, their relationship sometimes felt rushed and superficial, making it difficult for me to become emotionally invested in their journey.
For those who could look past its political arc and embrace its message of love and acceptance, it might have been an engaging read. However, for readers like me, who approach American politics with a significant degree of skepticism, the book's backdrop proved to be a stumbling block to fully enjoying its romantic narrative.
“Sometimes we expect more that people are capable of giving at the moment”
It's hinted/suggested that her mother committed suicide and Charlies goes on a rant about how her mom left her behind, didn't want her because she was selfish. Her father tells her that she has been struggling with mental illness for years yet Charlie's reaction implies it was a 'choice' for her to be like that. Because being suicidal is a 'choice'. What a great message to send, especially considering this book is targeted towards a young audience. Charlie reacts very strongly about finding out the truth yet all she needs to move on is to have Braden confess his love for her. It truly annoys me when authors give the characters a tragic backstory and then they brush over it.
“Oh my God, she thought, it's hard to be human sometimes, with the pressure to be civilized lying only very thinly over the brain of a nervous little mammal.”Well this was an odd book. With pretentious characters who learned how to feel and behave from aliens.
Was I supposed to find Nina charming? Because she felt kind of awful to me. It was a painful experience to be in this character's head. She felt like a manic pixie dream girl, the book-nerd suffering with anxiety version. All her traits were screaming: “Aren't I so relatable: introvert, book-lover, sufferer from anxiety, adjacent to a broken home? “But all I could think of was how rude and abrasive she was, from beginning to end. Having a mental condition doesn't give one a pass to be terrible all the time.
Let's take a random example:
“Peter Reynolds, your fabulous gay nephew, and how bizarre is that?” Nina shook his hand, grinning back. She'd always enjoyed the company of gay men, and finding out she was related to one was honestly a bit of a bonus. “I'm Nina, your single heterosexual aunt, which doesn't seem possible.Who thinks like that? Gay men are not an accessory.
She wasn't the only horrible one. At one point her friends makes fun that they need to drink for the kids in Africa and Tom's brother joking a certain family traints is better than a cleft palate. Making fun of people with a genetic disability, so funny, ha ha. I don't know what the author was thinking by writing these kinds of jokes.
“Let's do these shots,” said Carter. “There are sober children in Africa who'd kill for these. We can't waste them.”“I agree. But seeing as you met Rachel and decided to marry her in the space of, like, a month, we're all scrambling to keep up.” “I guess instant attraction is a family failing.” “Better than a cleft palate.” These are just some of unsavory dialogues taking place in this book. They were meant to be witty and funny but I could not find it remotely humorous.
The plot was mostly underwhelming and dragged out. Just like the romance element. She was terrible to Tom most of the time and he kept coming back for more because...she was attractive and small (almost like he had a fetish)? And they had nothing in common. She thought he was a dumb jock who was hot.
And talk about the mother of all clichés, the bookshop she works at is having financial problems and the father she never met just happened to be rich and left her a hefty inheritance following his death. Someone has been watching too many Hallmark movies.
A lie: charity, caritas, has nothing to do with the heart. But what does it matter if my sermons rest on false etymologies? He barely listens when i speak to him. Perhaps, despite those keen bird-eyes, he is more befuddled with drink than I know. Or perhaps, finally, he does not care. Care: the true root of charity. I look for him to care, and he does not. Because he is beyond caring. Beyond caring and beyond care.
I'm confused about my feeling on this. this. On one hand, I can appreciate the writing, though I don't particularly like the style. The themes tackled are heavy and the book is full of symbolism. However, I'm always kept as arms length by Coetze's narrators. The same thing happened with another book I read by him, I very much disliked the narrator. I'm not sure this is the reaction we're supposed to get in response to these characters. Or is it?
In any case, I had to force myself to finish it because my dislike for Mrs. Curren was overpowering my interest for the issues brought up. I'm reluctant to say I might have even despised her a little. Which is upsetting because technically she was a helpless woman dying from cancer. Yet it was very hard to muster sympathy for her because her reactions, thoughts and feelings felt so forced and unmoving. A former professor, abandoned by her husband, left behind by her daughter who fled to America from apartheid, who ultimately chose not to tell her daughter she was sick because she didn't want to be a burden. She kept getting involved in the lives of a homeless man and her domestic's family who was caught up in the political turmoil and violence of a dying oppressive regime. I didn't feel her involvement was organic however. It felt like she was mimicking compassion and kept wanting to help not because she cared whatsoever, but because she was afraid of being alone. Which is about the only relatable thing I found about her, the fear of dying alone.
I assume her sickness, her cancer was a symbolism for what was happening in South Africa with the apartheid. Are the white Afrikaners the cancer in this analogy or is just the system? Can they even be separated and what is the right way to end it? Mrs. Curren make several remarks that things used to be better in the past, people were more respectful, there was no violence. Was it really better in the past or were the people like Mrs. Curren unable to see from their view of privilege. She seems to be against the horrors of that system yet she feels nostalgic for the days when she was unaware of pain around her and she could live her days peacefully in her ivory tower.
Some tragedies bind us, as lies do; they are ropes braided of hurt and bitterness, and you cannot ever fully understand how pinioned you are until the ties are loosened.
My expectations were very high due to the blurb and the hype. It did deliver in part, the first half of the novel was pretty promising, however, it lost steam after she leaves the boarding school (Or maybe I just lost interest). Her consistency as a character suffered as well. I didn't find it believable at all that she warms up so much and so quickly to Mr. Thornfield. By that point I basically stopped caring.