Yzabel, Author at The Y Logs

Yzabel / February 17, 2014

Review: Dream Caster

Dream Caster by Najeev Raj Nadarajah

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Haunted by memories of his massacred settlement, sixteen-year-old Weaver seeks cover in a hidden refuge among the remains of a ruined city. In the midst of building a new life, Weaver discovers that he has the amazing power to cast his dreams into reality. Convinced it’s just an anomaly, Weaver ignores it. That is until he learns of a mysterious man who shares the ability, and uses his power to bring nightmares into existence and wage war on the world. The peaceful life Weaver hoped for begins to unravel as waves of chaos begin to break loose about him. In a race against time, Weaver must learn to accept his role as a dream caster and master his new power, before his new home is destroyed and humanity is pushed to the brink of extinction.

Review:

(I got a copy of this book through Goodreads’ giveaway/First Reads.)

I’m not too sure how to rank this book; it’s a toss between “it’s OK” and “I liked it”. Some ideas I really enjoyed, but they weren’t enough to make me love the novel.

What I liked:

* The concept of materialising dreams into reality. It paves the way for incredible possibilities, and the whole idea lends itself to basically “imagination come true”. Oh, what a writer can do with that. And Weavers seems to find original ways of exploring his powers at the end.

* Corollary of this: the creatures. The Fire Hounds are just so wicked, and I love the paradox of fire as having sustained humanity for centuries, yet turning into its worst enemy. The people must’ve felt miserable without it to keep them warm.

* The Dream Eater (although I’m not sure why he got that nickname, considering his way of acting). While his goals aren’t totally clear, they seem to run deeper than mere destruction.

What I didn’t like:

* I couldn’t wrap my mind around the dialogues. The characters speak (and think) as if out of a fairly literary book. It would work if the narrative was, say, first person POV and told by someone with an academic background—but it doesn’t cut it for dialogues. I know quite a few teachers and people with solid backgrounds in literature, and even they don’t talk in such a way in everyday life. It makes little sense that survivors in a post-apocalyptic setting, all the more teenagers, would talk like that.

* Weaver was so. frelling. dense. Having spent years working the way he did for Ruben, there’s just no way he could be so naive regarding other human beings. When Abanel tells him “Show me”, it’s obvious she means his settlement, not his cloak. Then, when they reach the new settlement, he’s told—at least twice—that he’ll be given a job for life; his five days as a guard can’t compete against years of cleaning waste, but the people here don’t know he’s been a guard for a few days only, right? He could have lied. He could’ve said “I was a guard”, period. Instead, he tells the truth, and then feels crushed when he’s appointed as, well, waste-cleaner. Well, duh. Could’ve sensed that coming from miles. He becomes more clever later, but after his first blunders, such a growth appeared to be too quick. It would’ve worked better for me if he had been less sense in the beginning.

* Also, “coincidences”. There’s ice around his bed, just like in his dream, even though the room is well-heated. There comes a moment when you have to accept that, no, “coincidence” just doesn’t cut it. It’s not like he had been told he had awesome powers without ever seeing proof. The proof is there.

* The archetypal bad-guys-who-don’t-like-him-on-a-whim. I found them useless and predictable (and they did a poor job as bullies anyway).

* The catastrophe that led mankind to the brink of destruction: it happened a few decades ago, yet nobody seems to remember much, not even the old guys who lived through it. It felt weird: I would’ve expected at least some records, if only written down a few years later by younger people who had heard accounts from “first-generation survivors”.

Yzabel / February 14, 2014

Review: Les Enfants de l’Ô

(Review in French, since it concerns a French book.)

Les Enfants de l’Ô by Vanessa du Frat

My rating: [rating=5]

Résumé:

Alia, 2340

Un étrange signal apparaît sur les écrans de surveillance ECO. Ludméa, jeune stagiaire envoyée sur le terrain pour chercher son origine, se retrouve en pleine tempête, au cœur de la forêt de Gonara. L’affaire semble intéresser de près Ruan Paso, directeur adjoint des départements militaires pour la recherche scientifique, un homme plein de secrets.

Terre, 2066

Les jumeaux Line et Lúka tentent de survivre sous le joug d’un père violent, obsédé par ses manipulations génétiques. Leur existence triste et routinière est chamboulée le jour où Lúka désobéit aux ordres en laissant s’évader un sujet d’une importance capitale… ce qui ne restera pas sans conséquences pour le futur.

Les Enfants de l’Ô nous fait voyager entre deux mondes, deux époques et nous fait découvrir les destins croisés de personnages énigmatiques. Mêlant saga familiale, drame psychologique et science-fiction, ce premier tome pose les jalons d’une série qui s’annonce captivante.

Critique:

Cette critique est un peu délicate à écrire, car j’admets avoir une relation toute spéciale avec ce roman, que j’ai connu pour la première fois fin 2006, alors qu’il était encore publié sur internet. Cette version-là était différente de celle que j’ai à présent entre les mains, mais le gros des éléments qui la constituaient, et que j’appréciais à l’époque, est toujours là… et je l’aime toujours autant.

LEO (j’abrégerai le titre de cette manière) est avant tout une histoire de psychologie, sur fond de science-fiction. Si la SF n’est pas votre fort, vous pourrez tout de même apprécier le roman — tout comme les éléments SF qui y sont présents pourront vous plaire si vous êtes un(e) lecteur (lectrice) plus chevronné dans ce domaine. Il est également assez spécial, dans ce sens où il fait véritablement partie d’une saga: vous ne trouverez pas dans ce premier tome une histoire à peu près complète, et dans les suivants d’autres histoires complètes, avec des personnages récurrents d’un volume à l’autre. Au contraire, l’ouvrage soulève peut-être bien plus de questions à la fin qu’il n’apporte de réponses, chose qui peut soit agacer, soit faire trépigner d’impatience – tout dépend de quel type de lecteur vous êtes.

Ce début de saga se déroule principalement en deux lieux et deux époques différentes: Alia en 2340, une planète qui semble être une colonie, et dont les habitants sortent tout juste d’une guerre avec une planète rivale; et la Terre en 2066. Cinq personnages principaux se partagent la vedette: d’un côté Ludméa et Ruan sur Alia, de l’autre les jumeaux Line et Lúka sur Terre; au milieu, Lyen, arrachée à sa famille alors qu’elle n’était qu’une enfant, destinée à ne mettre au monde des bébés que pour mieux se les voir arracher, dans le cadre d’expériences génétiques menées par le père des jumeaux. Tout ce petit monde est lié par bien des secrets, dont certains se dévoilent de façon très subtile, et d’autres sont tout juste esquissés, voués à n’être pleinement révélés que plus tard.

Par ailleurs, tous semblent également partager, que ce soit en tant qu’acteurs ou victimes, un curieux Don, jamais exactement nommé, mais dont les effets se précisent peu à peu – et rarement à de bonnes fins. Ce Don leur permet d’échapper aux conséquences d’actions qui autrement auraient dû leur coûter cher… mais pour combien de temps? Un conseil: faites bien attention aux tout petits détails à ce niveau…

LEO se déroule surtout en huis-clos étouffants (la zone de quarantaine sur Alia, le Laboratoire sur Terre), qui permettent par là même de mettre d’autant mieux en lumière les différentes psychés en présence. Les personnages sont constamment confrontés les uns aux autres en des lieux dont ils ne peuvent s’échapper; ne peuvent échapper ni à eux-mêmes, ni au regard des autres; et si de beaux sentiments parviennent à s’y développer, d’autres, plus noirs, prennent également le pas. Les thèmes abordés traitent en effet de certains aspects assez sombres de la psyché humaine: domination, dissimulation, hypocrisie, couples brisés, lâcheté, voire inceste et meurtres (dans de tels lieux, quoi de surprenant à ce qu’un drame survienne?). Bien qu’ils essayent souvent de se voiler la face, ces mêmes personnages n’y parviennent pas toujours, et les excuses qu’ils se trouvent n’en sonnent que plus faux, ne font que montrer encore plus à quel point ils sont complexes, pleins de défauts autant que de potentiel. C’est pour moi une facette fort appréciable de cet ouvrage qui, en filigrane, les dévoile tels qu’ils sont. Il frappe de plus par moments avec une précision clinique: pas de scènes sanguinolentes gratuites, mais des actions chirurgicales, nettes, précises, à l’impact plus fort de par l’économie de descriptions.

Un autre aspect intéressant que je pense devoir noter: le rôle des femmes dans ce roman. Contrairement à un certain nombre d’ouvrages où les personnages féminins nous sont présentés comme “forts” alors qu’ils sont en fait “bridés”, ici, c’est l’inverse qui semble se passer. Lyen: prisonnière, violentée, violée dans son corps comme dans son esprit. Line: enfermée dans le laboratoire, son frère étant son seul contact avec le monde extérieur. Ludméa: l’intruse, dans un centre de recherches empli de militaires aussi bien que dans une relation qui autrement aurait été censée bien se passer. Ylana: belle, intelligente, génie de la microbiologie, mais exhibée comme une sorte de trophée. Et pourtant, on se rend compte au fil de l’histoire que ces femmes à première vue “simplistes” sont peut-être bien vouées à être les plus fortes, celles qui contrôlent tout en arrière-plan, celles par qui les véritables changements et révélations surviendront… avec tous les chamboulements que cela implique.

Si ces thèmes quelque peu crus vous rebutent, si vous préférez des histoires riches en scènes d’actions, ou encore de la science-fiction de type hard science, LEO ne vous conviendra sans doute pas. Par contre, si les paradoxes temporels, les histoires d’amour tordues, les manipulations génétiques et/ou virales, ou encore les pouvoirs étranges vous intéressent, dans ce cas, il n’y a pas à hésiter.

Yzabel / February 13, 2014

Review: By Blood

By Blood by Tracy E. Banghart

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

For 17-year-old Emma Wong, spending a summer in England should be a dream come true. Gorgeous scenery? Check. Lots of hot guys with accents? Yes, please.

Throw in an estranged mom, annoying new stepdad, and drooling baby half-brother, and it’s a disaster even her favorite cherry red leather jacket can’t fix. Even worse, there’s (hot) live-in research assistant Josh to contend with. The only thing more embarrassing than drunk-kissing him hours after they meet? Knowing he’ll be witness to her family’s dysfunction all. summer. long.

But when Emma meets a mysterious girl who happens to be a Druid, her vacation suddenly promises to be far more intriguing than she anticipated. Powerful rituals, new friends, an intoxicating sense of freedom…and Simon, the sexy foreign stranger she was hoping for. It’s all a perfect distraction from dirty diapers and awkward family dinners.

Trouble is, intriguing doesn’t often mean simple. And Emma is about to discover just how not simple her life really is.

By Blood is a novel about the ways that blood can bind us to others – or tear us apart.

Review:

(I received this book from NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

2.5 stars. I enjoyed parts of this novel, while others seriously grated on my nerves. It wasn’t a bad story; it contains its share of good elements, only I may have read it at a moment when the ones I didn’t like bothered me more than in other circumstances.

I liked the idea of Druids-related beliefs, and how they were introduced into the story. On the one hand, Emma seemed to join in a little too easily; on the other, she was confused, had to leave her country, learnt some troubling things about her family, and it made sense that she’d want a place, a group of people to belong to. In that, the author did a fairly believable job. 17 is still an age at which you can be impressed by many things (hah, you can be that even later in life, after all), and some of her mistakes are somewhat understandable. Not to mention that the girl who introduced her to the whole thing was bubbly and likeable.

Another thing I found nice enough, although it took too much time to my liking to happen, was how Emma grew up somehow throughout the story. She started as an insufferable, self-centered person, and I must admit her tantrums sometimes made me roll her eyes and think “can we stop now?” However, in the end, she opens up and becomes more accepting, more mature. She drops the bratty attitude, and this is good.

What I really didn’t like:
* For someone who grew up with a cop father, who took and even taught self-defence classes, I found her too gullible and too prone to putting herself in tricky situations. I’ve never attended such classes, but I suppose one of the things they teach you there is how to avoid putting youself in dangerous situations for starters. At least, this seems logical to me. Emma, on the other hand, seemed to seek those, which totally clashed with how she was portrayed at the very beginning of the novel. Being confused should only take you so far.
* It was too heavy on the drama. I may have enjoyed this if I had been younger (I imagine it would ‘speak’ to a lot of teenagers, since those are the years when a lot of us feel rejected—sometimes justifiably so, sometimes not). But it leant a little too much towards woe-is-me moments. For instance, she gets the only small, closet-sized room in the house while her baby brother and basically everyone else get a gorgeous one. It may not seem like much, but considering her overall circumstances, the latter were enough for me to understand her unease; no need for more.
* Love triangle, good boy/bad boy. Predictable.

Yzabel / February 7, 2014

Review: The Edge of Never

The Edge of Never by J.A. Redmerski

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

Twenty-year-old Camryn Bennett had always been one to think out-of-the-box, who knew she wanted something more in life than following the same repetitive patterns and growing old with the same repetitive life story. And she thought that her life was going in the right direction until everything fell apart.

Determined not to dwell on the negative and push forward, Camryn is set to move in with her best friend and plans to start a new job. But after an unexpected night at the hottest club in downtown North Carolina, she makes the ultimate decision to leave the only life she’s ever known, far behind.

With a purse, a cell phone and a small bag with a few necessities, Camryn, with absolutely no direction or purpose boards a Greyhound bus alone and sets out to find herself. What she finds is a guy named Andrew Parrish, someone not so very different from her and who harbors his own dark secrets. But Camryn swore never to let down her walls again. And she vowed never to fall in love.

But with Andrew, Camryn finds herself doing a lot of things she never thought she’d do. He shows her what it’s really like to live out-of-the-box and to give in to her deepest, darkest desires. On their sporadic road-trip he becomes the center of her exciting and daring new life, pulling love and lust and emotion out of her in ways she never imagined possible. But will Andrew’s dark secret push them inseparably together, or tear them completely apart?

Due to sexual content and language, this book is recommended for 17+

Review:

(I got this book through Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

The premise—hitting the road to Wherever, meeting someone, travelling together in search of something more—was interesting, and could’ve led to a (no pun intended) an “On the Road” approach. What I got was different, though. I liked the first ten percents of this story, but as I kept reading, little things started to pile up, and I realised I was going to be infuriated. I’m going to admit that hadn’t I read it both for a book club and for Netgalley, I might have not finished it.

First, Camryn. She’s supposed to be a smart girl with a lot of depth. I just found her flat and incredibly judgmental. From the beginning, she discretly disses other people for “dreaming up new sex positions” while she thinks “about things that really matter” (at least she adds “in my world”), such as the smell of the ocean. I could understand if she wrote poetry, but I doubt this is indicative of being “a deep person”. I don’t see how this is less shallow than sex positions. Anyway, the problem lies with how she keeps judging others, and placing herself in a higher position. All the time. Only in a subtle way. I didn’t pay attention at first; once I started to do it, it was everywhere.

Then, the slut-shaming. It’s everywhere, coming from Camryn first, but also from Andrew. I don’t get those books where all women but the protagonist are portrayed as “slutty”. Her ex cheated on her with “some red-headed slut”. Her best friend she considers a slut, even though it appears like silly banter. And there’s this gem, like a fist in your face:

“She pulls it from between his fingers and all the while she watches every little move his hand makes until it falls away from her eyes down behind the counter.
Slut.”

Because when a woman casts an appreciative look on a hot guy who isn’t even your boyfriend, she’s a slut. Yes. I just say she’s, well, you know. Normal. Who wouldn’t look at someone s/he finds beautiful (and is described, anyway, as having a muscled body and other attributes traditionally associated with beauty)?

Andrew, too, isn’t immune to that.
About one-night stands:
““If a girl did that a-lot,” he draws out that word with a squeamish smile, “then it would be slutty, sure. Once or twice, I don’t know…,” he motions his hands at level with his shoulders as if shaking the numbers around in his mind indecisively, “there’s nothing wrong with that.””

Of course. When a guy does it, it’s a proof of his virility; of how sexy he is; whatever. When a girl enjoys sex and having different partners, she’s a slut. (Note that they absolutely don’t mention having non-safe sex. It’s just sex in general.)

I’m so fed up with the slut-shaming and double-standards. They ruin everything. They make characters cliché, and not the good, amusing kind of stereotype either. Especially when they’re used to make the main characters appear as Mr. and Ms. Perfect. Enough with the holier-than-thou attitude. Stop trampling on other people to make yourself look better.

Speaking of Andrew: “If you were to let me fuck you, you would have to let me own you.” What kind of screwed-up reasoning is that? What is it meant to express? That they have to be in love? Can’t you just say “we have to be in a relationship”, and not give her some crap about being “owned”? Women aren’t items. This sentence isn’t romantic. It’s just infuriating. Andrew’s shown as a gorgeous guy with a heart of gold, and sure enough, he is kind… but he also has darker sides that are never shown as, well, being potentially wrong. (view spoiler)

The writing itself was nothing exceptional. The road trip part became annoying after a while. As for the ending, it seems that many people found it exceptional. I didn’t. It reminded me of soap-operas. Or of teenage-angst fanfic piling up bad event upon bad event. It was both too much and too unbelievable.

Yzabel / February 6, 2014

Review: Stiltskin

Stiltskin by Andrew Buckley

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

What would you do if you found an evil dwarf in your bathtub?

In Robert Darkly’s case you scream like a girl… and then you get taken on a journey to an entirely different world living just on the other side of our own reality; a world where fairy tales are real but not in the way we’ve come to expect them.

The aforementioned dwarf, Rumpelstiltskin, has escaped the Tower prison of Thiside determined to finish the sinister plot he started so many years ago.

Robert Darkly, oblivious that he is the son of the Mad Hatter, must partner with the mysterious ‘Agency’ to pursue Rumpelstiltskin across our world and the world of Thiside and uncover the treacherous secret that threatens to throw both realities into eternal chaos.

Review:

(I received an ebook copy from NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

2.5 stars.

While the idea of retelling fairy tales and/or making them bastardised versions of darker truths is nothing new in itself, I think Andrew Buckley did a good job in building his world. In this world, nothing is as bright and pure as we were led to believe as children, and Robert Darkly is going to discover it fast. Some were thiefs; some were murderers; some were imprisoned in the Tower, or died, while others managed to remain at large; but all characters from those “tales” lived much different lives in Thiside than human people remember them in Othaside.

I had no problems when it came to imagining Thiside and its twisted landscapes, nor to appreciating the various twists made on stories: the author made the latter seem almost logical, in a convoluted way. And darker. Much darker. If it’s happy-ever-afters you’re looking for, it’s not in those versions of the tales you’ll find them. I tend to like this; other readers may not. In any case, this novel is fraught both with darkness and with humour, making the spins strangely amusing; I found myself chuckling more than once, even though some of the events weren’t perceived as such by the characters.

However, at times, said characters seemed a little too bland to my taste. I’m not sure why exactly, I just had the feeling that, while in some parts they came truly alive, in others they were “made for the story”, so to speak. As a result, a few happenings and evolutions had an aftertaste of artificial. (Well, of course a story is artificial, and the ones who people it are just as artificial; I just don’t like feeling it.) In some places, too, the writing wasn’t as polished as in others; for instance, I’d spot a fine sentence next to one full of unneeded (in my opinion, that is) adverbs.

It was an amusing book—and I must say, I loved the ending. I sensed it coming, but only in retrospect: only when it happened did I realise it just couldn’t end in any other way. I’ll remember the story and the atmosphere more than the characters, though.

Yzabel / February 1, 2014

Cover Reveal: Joe 2 – White Sheets

Upcoming soon: JOE 2: White Sheets. In the meantime, here’s the cover reveal:

Joe Knowe sees things before they happen. Bad things. Just a couple months ago it was a psychopath planning a mass shooting at the college she attended. Now, she’s facing a whole different kind of madman, and one potentially far more dangerous.
To keep the pending disaster from happening, this time Joe will have to get up close and personal, making herself at home in the lion’s den, and attempting not to be swallowed whole.
Will she be able to keep herself and those around her from drinking the Kool-Aid? Or will they all end up under white sheets? In this second installment of the thrilling JOE series, H.D. Gordon takes you into the heart of a cult, the mind of its leader, and the lives of his followers.

Yzabel / January 31, 2014

Review: Savor

Savor by Kate Evangelista

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

See this post.

Review:

(I was given an e-copy of this book by the author, in exchange for an honest review.)

Having reviewed Taste a couple of years ago, I was intrigued by the premise of this novel, wondering how it tied into it, and what role would the characters play in it. I’ll get back to this at the end of my review, but for the moment, I’d simply advise that: if you haven’t read the “prequel” yet, it’s probably best not to do it right now, and focus on Savor instead.

I’m going to start with one problematic thing for me: sometimes I thought the story was going too slowly. It’s nothing too definite, just a feeling I had. Perhaps because of some of the descriptions? But then, I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with descriptions—and in a paradoxical way, I can appreciate a detailed description while still finding it too long. Don’t ask.

On the other hand, those make the photo shoots very easy to picture, and in turn, you realise they must be absolutely gorgeous. At the end of each shoot, I wished I could see Dakota’s photos IRL.

I liked Dakota as a protagonist. She’s the right amount of sassy, refuses to be victimised and behave like a victim, in spite of what happened to her, she doesn’t wallow in safe-pity, and she does her best to place the job she wants to do first… although the temptations around her are pretty strong. She’s not perfect, and has her shortcomings. There’s that one scene, for instance, where Luka does to her what she did to him before, and she flips out because it’s unacceptable to her: double standard alert. However, she also realises that her reaction is unfair, acknowledges it, which made her likeable again after that, uh, unglorious episode. (I really don’t do well with double standards.)

The other characters: they all had their little quirks. I really liked Dray and his “fact of the day” attitude, which was funny and ador(k)able. I wish we had known more about Calixta, though. She seemed to have the part of “the one who resents the new arrival in the family”, but I didn’t really understand why. Was it just instant dislike the way, well, the way it sometimes happens in real life? Or something else? (If the latter, then it wasn’t too clear.)

The mysterious aspects: very lightly spread throughout the story. You have to pay attention and not miss them. Once I reached the ending, I started to think in retrospect: “OK, so maybe this and that part actually hinted to that, I must check and re-read those.” Personnally, I like when I find myself having to do that.

The romance itself: if you like this genre, you’ll probably enjoy it. There’s a rather twisted edge to it, but the characters are aware of it, and I didn’t feel like they were trying to make excuses, or to pretend everything was perfectly OK. I much prefer when they face the potential consequences, rather than when they’re presented as perfect models but are in fact pompous self-righteous judgmental people. There’s not mistaking it here: something fishy’s going on, we know it, they know it, and I didn’t feel myself cheated like I did with many other romance stories.

The writing: I found it more mature than in the previous book I read from this author. (In that book, I thought she used a lot of weird similes; it’s not the case here.)

One thing that confused me highly, but that I won’t hold against the story nor the author because, frankly, I just didn’t do my research about it, didn’t read her blog or whatever; maybe this was explained somewhere, maybe not. I’m mentioning it because others might have felt the same, but I want to make one thing clear: this is because I read Taste first. It doesn’t bear in any other way on Savor, and the latter is enjoyable regardless. Heavy spoiler ahead. I’m confused about the way both stories are linked: is Taste a real prequel, or is “The Vicious Feast” series a sort of alternate universe follow-up? Several elements didn’t seem to match. In the “prequel”, we learn that the whole band, except Phoenix, is from another race, and they’re several centuries old; however, Dakota finds a photo album with pictures of them as kids, which prompted me to wonder. Were those fake, touched-up pictures—in which case, shouldn’t Dakota be able to tell, considering her own experience? Or is there something else altogether to the story? Also, why is Calixta working with them? How did things change between them? However, I’m saying it again: I didn’t check with the author; nowhere in the blurb does she say that it’s a direct follow-up to Taste; and this doesn’t detract from one’s enjoyment of Savor. This is just me having perhaps missed something, since I didn’t read the book all at once, and not always in conditions favouring focus.

Conclusion: I’m giving it 3.5 to 4 stars. A little too slow at times for my taste, but with beautiful descriptions and ideas for the photos, and an interesting protagonist, flawed in a believable way.

Yzabel / January 20, 2014

Review: The Magiker

The Magiker by Charles Dennis

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Is Barbara Warren a spoiled socialite, a multiple personality, or truly possessed by the soul of Leah Littman, a girl who died a hundred years ago in the Pale of Settlement? These are questions psychiatrist Harris Strider must answer as he plunges headlong into a world of mysticism, Kabbalah, and a mysterious figure known as the Magiker Rebbe. Failing to heed warnings that he has entered a world beyond science and reason, Strider faces the danger of losing his wife, his practice, and his sanity. A combination of Isaac Bashevis Singer, Stephen King, and Phillip Roth, The Magiker will make you think twice about the possibilities of reincarnation—and a love beyond time.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Quite an enjoyable read for me, although in the end I found myself not really caring about the characters, save perhaps for Leah and Shimon. Perhaps because the story is carried through Harris’s point of view, in first person, and Harris seemed to be a callous and somewhat emotionally-removed man? In a way, it is an interesting point of view to follow, and it fits the imbalance in his persona: the other characters are seen through his clearly distorted lens, and there’s no mistaking that the journey he’s embarking for is only going to increase said imbalance, which was there from the beginning, only hidden. On the other hand, on a purely relation-to-the-reader level, it also makes it harder to connect with most of the other people in the novel, as they appear as whiny, needy, or just not that important. I think it depends on whether a reader is in the mood to tackle such a point of view; I was in between, appreciating the questions it raised, yet being prevented from enjoying the rest of the cast.

The story itself, its descriptions, and its blend of Jewish mysticism and legends, were fascinating elements. I don’t know enough about the Kabbalah and the Gematriah to tell if those were spot on, so I can’t really judge on that; I guess if you’re not a specialist, it won’t matter anyway. At any rate, it made me want to get deeper into such knowledge, if possible, which is always a good thing in my opinion. However, I found the ending to be a little rushed, in that I would’ve liked to know more about what exactly the Magiker did, and how he did it.

All in all, an enjoyable, gripping story, but with some gaps that didn’t make it exceptional for me.

Yzabel / January 6, 2014

Review: A Study In Ashes

A Study in Ashes by Emma Jane Holloway

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

As part of her devil’s bargain with the industrial steam barons, Evelina Cooper is finally enrolled in the Ladies’ College of London. However, she’s attending as the Gold King’s pet magician, in handcuffs and forbidden contact with even her closest relation, the detective Sherlock Holmes.

Not even Niccolo, the dashing pirate captain, and his sentient airship can save her. But Evelina’s problems are only part of a larger war. The Baskerville Affair is finally coming to light, and the rebels are making their move to wrest power from the barons and restore it to Queen Victoria. Missing heirs and nightmare hounds are the order of the day—or at least that’s what Dr. Watson is telling the press.

But their plans are doomed unless Evelina escapes to unite her magic with the rebels’ machines—and even then her powers aren’t what they used to be. A sorcerer has awakened a dark hunger in Evelina’s soul, and only he can keep her from endangering them all. The only problem is… he’s dead.

Review:

(I got this book from NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

A pretty interesting ending to the plots in this series (and probably the beginning to another arc), that ties up all elements together, and have they all meet on the final “battlefield” of London, if I may say so.

However, while I appreciated this novel, I thought it lost itself, compared to what was developed in the first volume. As a steampunk-themed story, it was enjoyable, but I felt as if its initial spark had died down somewhere along the way. The potential for mystery and investigation I expected from Evelina (as well as from Holmes’ presence) kind of took the back-burner. Evie was more passive, in a way, going through events more as a victim than as a strong person; granted, she’s been through quite a few hardships, and those had to take their toll, and yet, in spite of the understanding she gained from them, I thought she was somewhat… diminished. In a weird way (weird, because those were things I had enjoyed in A Study In Silks), this time the detective/mystery aspect was feeble and unneeded. Had it been a different setting, with Holmes left out, I might actually have found this story better, more able to stand on its own two feet.

I also can’t make up my mind about the Imogen subplot. It was like a side-story, related to the main plot through the characters, but not bearing any weight on the main events. I kept having the nagging feeling that at some point, the author hadn’t been sure what to do with Imogen anymore, except having her tag along, and gave her a new part for her and Poppy to have something to do. Only that part was mostly disconnected from the others.

On the other hand, I quite enjoyed Alice, who turned out to be the person I hoped the indeed was. I wished she would’ve had a more important role.

Consider it at 2.5 stars for now. Maybe I’ll knock it the extra half-star later on. Right now, I’m still bothered by the way some of its plots were tackled.

Yzabel / December 25, 2013

Review: Dead Beautiful

Dead Beautiful by Yvonne Woon

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

After Renee Winters discovers her parents lying dead in California’s Redwood Forest in what appears to be a strange double murder, her grandfather sends her off to Gottfried Academy in Maine, a remote and mysterious high school dedicated to philosophy, “crude sciences,” and Latin: the Language of the Dead. It’s here she meets Dante, a dark and elusive student to whom she feels inexplicably drawn.

As they get to know each other better, Dante can’t seem to control his attraction either, and their desires gradually deepen into a complex and dangerous romance. Dangerous because Dante is hiding a frightening secret. A secret so terrible, it has him fearing for Renee’s life.

Dante’s not the only one with secrets, though. Turns out Gottfried Academy has a few of its own… Like, how come students keep disappearing? Why are the prefect-like Monitors creeping around campus during the night? And what exactly are the Headmistress and Professors really up to? Renee is determined to find out why.
Dead Beautiful is both a compelling romance and thought-provoking read, bringing shocking new meaning to life, death, love, and the nature of the soul.

Review:

(I got an ebook version of this novel through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I don’t know whether to give it 2 or 3 stars. Some parts I liked, some I found OK, some were a little dumb in my opinion.

I must say I really liked the atmosphere in this novel: the boarding school and its odd rules, the Gothic feeling, beautiful buildings… All of this surrounded with a veil of mystery, strange behaviours from some of the characters, and bits of foreshadowing that clicked pretty well once the story reached the moments when they made sense. I also liked the “mythology” behind it all: what happened to the children, the role of the Monitors, and why the school was built. It was a somewhat different take on death than what I’ve read up until now.

The pacing lacked in the first half of the book: I think a few chapters could’ve been condensed without the mystery being lessened. Things picked up by chapter 10, which was too far in the story to my liking (and they happened a little too fast in the end, with the explanation dropped on me rather too suddenly). Descriptions helped set the atmosphere, indeed, but after a while, I was starting to wonder when the main character would finally get it—or, rather, when she would actually take useful steps and ask the right questions to the right people.

My main problem with this novel were the characters. The insta-love between Renée and Dante was explained (and easy to foresee, come to think of it), so it bothered me less here than it usually does. However, I found their relationship too basic, too superficial, and I would’ve appreciated seeing more development here. As it was, it didn’t really feel right with the ending. And, as mentioned above, I expected more action from Renée, more investigating; she looked like she could’ve been so much more, yet wasn’t exploited to her full potential. Instead, she remained too vain.

I guess I’m going to file this novel in my list of “OK books”. I cared enough to keep on reading, but I’ll probably forget about it fast.