September 2014 - The Y Logs

Yzabel / September 30, 2014

Review: A Call to Duty

A Call to Duty by David Weber and Timothy Zahn

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Growing up, Travis Uriah Long yearned for order and discipline in his life . . . the two things his neglectful mother couldn’t or wouldn’t provide. So when Travis enlisted in the Royal Manticoran Navy, he thought he’d finally found the structure he’d always wanted so desperately.

But life in the RMN isn’t exactly what he expected. Boot camp is rough and frustrating; his first ship assignment lax and disorderly; and with the Star Kingdom of Manticore still recovering from a devastating plague, the Navy is possibly on the edge of budgetary extinction.

The Star Kingdom is a minor nation among the worlds of the Diaspora, its closest neighbors weeks or months away, with little in the way of resources. With only modest interstellar trade, no foreign contacts to speak of, a plague-ravaged economy to rebuild, and no enemies looming at the hyper limit, there are factions in Parliament who want nothing more than to scrap the Navy and shift its resources and manpower elsewhere.

But those factions are mistaken. The universe is not a safe place.

Travis Long is about to find that out.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Let’s not dwell for too long on the cover, which is definitely a reminder of older SF books design, but didn’t do much for me. (To be faire, I got my share of gorgeous covers hiding stupid novels, though. So I assumed that the contrary might be true as well.)

I must also say that I never read any of the Honor Harrington novels; as a result, I can’t say if it’s true to the Honorverse or not, and can’t compare it to other similar works by those authors. I went into this one not even knowing what I was going into, except that “it seems to be military sci-fi, and I kind of feel like reading this genre at the moment.” Especially since the blurb depicted a somewhat decadent Navy, and that such settings are always ripe for a lot of themes I tend to appreciate.

Travis Long is a young man, even a teenager, whose family doesn’t pay much attention to: his half-brother Gavin is a Lord, and his mother is busy with her work. On a whim, he decides to join the Royal Manticoran Navy, both craving for a discipline he was never subjected to and for a place to be after a stunt that almost went wrong for him. To be honest, I’m still not sure about his motivations: I would’ve liked to see his family problems depicted a little more deeply, perhaps, or to be given more details, because as it is, it seemed just a little “woe is me”. Fortunately, this doesn’t last for long, and Travis doesn’t dwell on it for the whole novel; we only get a little reminder a couple of times. The character tends to be a rule-stickler, which fits as an echo of what he craved. On the other hand, it holds good potential for inner conflict: he sticks to rules, but has a natural tendency to think outside the box, and while the latter helps in tense situations, at some point, I can envision both aspects of his personality getting pitched against each other. Although Travis isn’t a terribly likeable young man in the beginning, there’s definitely room for development here. He didn’t strike me as a character who would forever remain the same.

The novel focuses on two major themes: Travis’s life in the Navy (as well as the problems that it has to face later—not going to spoil), and the game of politics that runs behind the scenes. The Manticore system is an interesting enough setting: a kingdom actually born from what used to be a corporation, Manticore Ltd. (I have no idea how the Board ever came to decide going monarchical was a good idea, but why not. This is also one of those aspects I would’ve want to learn more about. However, as I said, I don’t know the Honorverse, and perhaps this is explained in another book. I still wish there had been more of an explanation here, for readers like me.) In a way, it reminded me a little of parliamentarian monarchies like the UK’s, with a king—and even a former ruler named “Queen Elizabeth”—who holds decisional power… but not so much that he can afford to disregard Parliament’s pressures.

In the novel, the political intrigue runs mostly around the conundrum of “what to do with a Navy that has never known a war, and whose last round of battles was against some pirates, one century ago?” Gavin Winterfall, Travis’s half-brother, plays a minor role in this, but one that might expand in the next novel, perhaps, because he turned out to be more intrigue-savvy than his own allies thought at first. As for the RMN itself, its own people sometimes question their place, wondering if what they do is so useful, and if they’ll be ready the day a real war looms.

The story itself was quite entertaining, though a little heavy-handed on technical and military terms; I could adapt to those, and I enjoyed the atmosphere they created, but they might be a problem for readers who’re not keen on them. The dialogues made me feel like I was really on a spaceship, with operations going on following a given protocol. I also enjoyed how Travis manages to play an important part, thanks to his ideas, yet isn’t the one who completely saves the day all the time (he’s only enlisted, not a captain or another officer, and his being THE saviour who does everything wouldn’t have fit in my opinion). Even the way he gets rewarded reflects how Navy personnel has to traipse around potential political mishaps.

I’m not exactly fond of the ending, though. It seemed kind of… predictable to me.

The novel has its flaws, and I wouldn’t consider it as excellent, but as a beginning to a series, I think it sets the stage for a lot of potentially interesting developments, and I certainly wouldn’t mind reading the next installment. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / September 26, 2014

Review: A Sudden Light

A Sudden Light by Garth Stein

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

In the summer of 1990, fourteen-year-old Trevor Riddell gets his first glimpse of Riddell House. Built from the spoils of a massive timber fortune, the legendary family mansion is constructed of giant, whole trees, and is set on a huge estate overlooking Puget Sound. Trevor’s bankrupt parents have begun a trial separation, and his father, Jones Riddell, has brought Trevor to Riddell House with a goal: to join forces with his sister, Serena, dispatch Grandpa Samuel—who is flickering in and out of dementia—to a graduated living facility, sell off the house and property for development into “tract housing for millionaires,” divide up the profits, and live happily ever after.

But Trevor soon discovers there’s someone else living in Riddell House: a ghost with an agenda of his own. For while the land holds tremendous value, it is also burdened by the final wishes of the family patriarch, Elijah, who mandated it be allowed to return to untamed forestland as a penance for the millions of trees harvested over the decades by the Riddell Timber company. The ghost will not rest until Elijah’s wish is fulfilled, and Trevor’s willingness to face the past holds the key to his family’s future.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

A book that started well in my opinion, yet lost momentum along the way.

I liked its stifling setting, how the characters were isolated in that huge, derelict house, the feeling of entrapment (mostly through Serena, who had stayed there for her whole life and never travelled or did the things she wanted to do). Riddell House was permeated with a strong atmosphere of oppressive memories, between ghosts that may or may not exist and memories weighing heavily on everyone. Secret rooms and passages, hints at family secrets, letters and trinkets appearing in unexpected places… Basically, the setting was really what fascinated me here.

The writing style was beautiful, too, befitting the poetic aspects of the nature outside the house (I’m positive the Thoreau-like vibes I got from it were totally on purpose).

On the other hand, what worked in descriptions didn’t work in dialogue, and unfortunately, this left a stain on my enjoyment of the novel. The characters in general had a tendency to talk “like in a book”—meaning I constantly felt that they had rehearsed their speech beforehand. Of course, the narrator not being the 14-year-old Trevor, but an older Trevor, might account for that; however, the effect it caused still remained a problem for me. Perhaps filtering the story through the older Trevor’s voice wasn’t the best choice here; perhaps I would have liked it more if it had been unadultered. It’s hard to tell. Serena especially had a weird way of talking, going into soliloquies at times, as if performing for an audience, and her speech patterns definitely sounded unnatural.

In general, I found the mystery lacking in depth. The ghost aspect of the novel was nothing exceptional (if you’re looking for something spooky, you won’t find it here), although I must say I liked Harry’s and Benjamin’s story, and the way it ended. The family secrets were somewhat to be expected, as well as the characters’ motivations. I also thought the novel crammed a lot of elements together (ghosts, lost loves, illness, madness…), yet went on tangents that made it drag, resulting in a paradoxical narrative that was both too short and too long.

Not uninteresting, but I expected much more out of it, and didn’t get it in the end.

Yzabel / September 25, 2014

Review: Silhouette

Doctor Who: Silhouette by Justin Richards

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

“Vastra and Strax and Jenny? Oh no, we don’t need to bother them. Trust me.”

Marlowe Hapworth is found dead in his locked study, killed by an unknown assailant. This is a case for the Great Detective, Madame Vastra.

Rick Bellamy, bare-knuckle boxer, has the life drawn out of him by a figure dressed as an undertaker. This angers Strax the Sontaran.

The Carnival of Curiosities, a collection of bizarre and fascinating sideshows and performers. This is where Jenny Flint looks for answers.

How are these things connected? And what does Orestes Milton, rich industrialist, have to do with it all? This is where the Doctor and Clara come in. The Doctor and his friends find themselves thrust into a world where nothing and no one are what they seem. Can they unravel the truth before the most dangerous weapon ever developed is unleashed on London?

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

This is only the second Doctor Who novel I read. In the meantime, I managed to catch up on a lot of episodes I hadn’t seen (including the ones with the Twelfth Doctor); it was a good idea, since otherwise I would have had less clues about who the characters were, especially when the Paternoster gang was concerned. Unfortunately, it was therefore also very easy to realise that they weren’t that well-portrayed, at least not in my opinion. Hadn’t I watched the most recent seasons, I would’ve likely been confused; having watched them, I don’t recognise many people in here. I guess Strax felt the closest to how he behaves in the series, but then, he may have been the easiest one to grasp as well.

I’m particularly miffed about the way Vastra and Jenny were handled. Vastra’s supposed to be the Great Detective, the one who inspired Doyle to write Sherlock Holmes’s adventures, and yet her role was completely stripped off meaning; she didn’t get to do much, looked like she was here mostly to get into trouble and then saved, and this doesn’t sit with me as far as she’s concerned. Not a word about her relationship with Jenny either, which I found odd. This applied to several characters, in that I couldn’t get a strong grasp of how they factored in the mystery, except to get into trouble (and only the women in this story happened to get into trouble and need saving; I don’t recall Strax or the Doctor doing the same). As for the Doctor, he didn’t feel and act much like the one I got to see in the most recent episodes. Clara was just insipid. At best they all were bland, at worst not true to their selves, cast in damsel in distress roles, and not allowed to unleash their full potential.

The plot was somewhat interesting. I liked the first half, for the atmosphere woven through the Carnival, and the way the mystery started to unfold. I liked it much less towards the end: nice twist, though predictable, but muddled. (Also, two characters get together without any serious apparent reason; while somewhat cute, it was useless, especially with the other relationships in the story not mentioned or developed.)

Conclusion: 1.5 stars. Mildly enjoyable as a quick read while travelling, yet totally forgettable in the long run, with characters that have little to do with who they are on TV. (And the point of reading a novel based on a TV series, to me, is to find the themes and people I liked in the show, after all…)

Yzabel / September 19, 2014

Review: Amity

Amity by Micol Ostow

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

For fans of Stephen King and American Horror Story, a gruesome thriller suggested by the events of the Amityville Horror.

Inspired by a true-crime story of supernatural happenings and gory murders, Amity spans two generations and beyond to weave an overlapping, interconnected tale of terror, insanity, danger, and death.

Review:

(I got a copy courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I watched the Amityville movie some 20 years ago, and never read the book, so I won’t comment much on how faithful to the original story this novel is… or how it diverged from it. I remember some elements (the red room, characters always waking up at the same time, the door banging, the “healer” character being thwarted…), and I think they were used in ways both similar and different. Is it a good or a bad thing? I don’t know. For me, it felt appropriate, at least. I tend to like cameos, winks at other works of literature, and so one.

I liked how both narrators’ voices were clearly distinct, not only because of the fonts used, but simply because their tone, their ways of thinking, were different enough. Gwen is more fragile, while Connor’s instability is expressed more violently. Gwen is more intuitive, and Connor “colder”. In fact, his case was pretty easy to figure out, and his narrative reflected his problems fairly well.

This said, while I enjoyed the setting, the writing itself unfortunately got on my nerves to such an extent that it ruined my reading experience. Why? Too much hammering, too much repetitions (she was shot in the head, I mean, you know, go away crazy, I mean, she was shot in the head, she was shot IN THE HEAD). I get why they were here, emphasising Gwen’s unstable mental state and Connor’s sociopathic tendencies, but I have an aversion to heavy-handed writing styles, the ones that tell me what I should feel, instead of subtly hinting at it. Apart from the standard sentences (see above), often the story made a point of repeating the same event several times, as if to flash a huge neon sign above it, in case someone would have missed it. Example:

My mother stood in the doorway of the sewing room.
My mother stood, head cocked slightly, looking quizzical, in the doorway of the sewing room.
She wasn’t directly behind me[…]
She hadn’t been behind me at all.
She’d been standing in the doorway of the sewing room.
My mother had been standing, not behind me, but in the doorway of the sewing room.
She’d been standing in the doorway of the sewing room this whole time.

Frankly, this doesn’t induce fear in me. This just makes me cringe and roll my eyes, thinking, “OK, I GET IT.” I don’t like being openly manipulated. Suspension of disbelief, for me, rests on a text’s ability to make me forget the ropes, so that I end up realising that I’ve been led all the way without realising it. Conversely, I don’t react well to techniques that poke me without subtlety in the right direction. It’s like someone’s grabbing my head, looking at me in the eyes and screaming: “Look, this is scary! I’m repeating it because you’re meant to feel it! Are you scared yet, Huh? HUH?” As said, I get why such effects were used, Gwen and Connor being damaged characters. But the way they were handled just irked me. Sometimes, it happens. And it’s too bad.

The novel also borrows from a few other works (notably “Carrie”, for the stones), and I don’t think that was a good idea. It came out of nowhere as far as Gwen was concerned, and though it had its use, it just felt like a cop-out to me. And not frightening either. Mostly, I didn’t find this novel scary. It lacked subtlety to achieve that, and the last chapters were too muddled to give it a proper ending.

I had high hopes for this story, and I wish I had liked it, but alas, this didn’t come to pass. 1.5 stars.

Yzabel / September 18, 2014

Review: Afterworlds

Afterworlds by Scott Westerfeld

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Darcy Patel has put college and everything else on hold to publish her teen novel, Afterworlds. Arriving in New York with no apartment or friends she wonders whether she’s made the right decision until she falls in with a crowd of other seasoned and fledgling writers who take her under their wings… Told in alternating chapters is Darcy’s novel, a suspenseful thriller about Lizzie, a teen who slips into the ‘Afterworld’ to survive a terrorist attack. But the Afterworld is a place between the living and the dead and as Lizzie drifts between our world and that of the Afterworld, she discovers that many unsolved – and terrifying – stories need to be reconciled. And when a new threat resurfaces, Lizzie learns her special gifts may not be enough to protect those she loves and cares about most.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Pretty interesting premise, but in the end I found the execution wanting, and the stories not that interesting, unfortunately.

I really liked the beginning: Darcy having to navigate her way in New York, meeting published authors as well as other “debs” like her (people whose book was to be published in the upcoming months), having to take editing and rewriting tasks into account… The first pages of Lizzie’s story were gripping, too, and I appreciated how we’re shown the final version of Darcy’s book, running parallel to her own editing of the first draft, with all the pitfalls that were in it (exposition chapters, huge info-dumps…) and were then removed. As someone who likes writing, too,
I couldn’t help but find this comment about the YA scene and authors’ jobs quite interesting. The book is full of little allusions to similar themes: Darcy obviously wrote her novel during NaNoWriMo 2012, the Darcy/Lizzie hint at “Pride and Prejudice” is totally acknowledged, the authors debate about what’s more important (plot? characters? conflict? setting?), and so on.

However, a lot of aspects in “Afterworlds” were problematic.

For starters, I’m not sure YA readers not specifically interested in writing would “get it”. Clearly it’s going to be a hit-or-miss here.

Also, the characters weren’t that impressive. Those from Darcy’s novel were rather bland in my opinion, and what I may deem “typical YA cut-outs”. Yamaraj: the mysterious love interest without much of a personality. Jamie: the best friend who, in Darcy’s copy-editor’s own terms, “has car, lives with father”, and not much more. In fact, Darcy’s novel would have deserved to stand on its own, because it would’ve allowed the author to properly develop its world and characters, and make it the gripping idea it seemed to be in the beginning. (I’m still convinced that opening scene in the airport is a proper attention-catcher.)

Darcy was definitely annoying: totally immature, without any sense of responsibility (she missed so many deadlines, such as the ones for college applications, lease renewal, and her writing was two inches from going the same way), jumping to conclusions, thinking in terms of the world revolving around her… Defects I would’ve happily forgiven, if she had learnt from them, but she didn’t. And in the end? In the end, Little Miss Lucky still got lucky, still landed an astonishing deal, still managed to waltz out of problems without that much of a hitch. All things that are potential insults at actual writers, the large majority that doesn’t land an agent after just a few weeks of querying, nor a $300,000 book deal for his/her first novel. I’m all in favour of selling dreams, but those were too much a matter of dumb luck, not of work and personal improvement. I didn’t root for Darcy at all. (I was also rather miffed at her plot taking a “let’s focus on the love relationship” turn. There were so many other things it could have focused on…)

Mostly, I felt that this book had great potential in being a pretty good parody, but couldn’t make up its mind about being one or not. Why a parody? For all the jabs at YA novels, at their shortcomings, elements I tend to notice as well when I read such stories. “Afterworlds” could be an excellent critique of the current market—a market I personally find saturated with cookie-cutter themes and plots (the same old kind of love interest, the same trend of characters whose questionable decisions put them in the too-stupid-to-live category…). Unfortunately, the way it is, it fell into the exact pit traps it (unconsciously or not?) denounced.

A note as well about a few questions raised throughout Darcy’s narrative. There was an interesting discussion about culture appropriation, and how Darcy’s use of Yama, an actual deity from Hindu mythology, amounted to erasing Hinduism, or at least part of it, from her world, by not openly acknowledging him as part of this religion. I found this point very valid. And yet, at the same time, Darcy herself represents a removal of cultural heritage: she’s of Indian origin, but apart from her surname and physical description, she’s the typical “white protagonist”. (She’s not religious, her family isn’t particularly religious either, they all behave like standard Americans in novels… In other words: why make her from a different culture, if it’s not to use it? Was it just for the sake of having a non-white protagonist… or, on the contrary, to point at how many other novels appropriate various cultures, only to “whiten” them?)

The underlying critique is definitely present, and something I can’t help thinking about, wondering if it was on purpose, or totally accidental. I don’t know how to take this novel, except with a grain of salt. I’m giving it 2 stars because of the parody it could be, one that made me snicker and nod my head in acknowledgment. But story-wise, I think it should either have been made a stronger read (as it was, it became boring rather quickly), or have gone all the way as a more obvious means of denouncing the many problems going rampant in the YA publishing industry. If it’s one, I’m not sure that many people will realise it, unfortunately (and especially not younger readers—not because they’re young, just because they may not have the necessary reading background to see the critique I mentioned).

Yzabel / September 14, 2014

Review: Two Hundred and Twenty-One Baker Streets

Two Hundred and Twenty-One Baker Streets: An Anthology of Holmesian Tales Across Time and Space by David Thomas Moore

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

The world’s most famous detective, as you’ve never seen him before! This is a collection of orginal short stories finding Holmes and Watson in times and places you would never have expected!

A dozen established and up-and-coming authors invite you to view Doyle’s greatest creation through a decidedly cracked lens.

Read about Holmes and Watson through time and space, as they tackle a witch-trial in seventeenth century Scotland, bandy words with Andy Warhol in 1970s New York, travel the Wild Frontier in the Old West, solve future crimes in a world of robots and even cross paths with a young Elvis Presley…

Set to include stories by Kasey Lansdale, Guy Adams, Jamie Wyman, J E Cohen, Gini Koch, Glen Mehn, Kelly Hale, Kaaron Warren, Emma Newman and more.

Review:

(I received an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 stars.

Like most anthologies, this one included interesting stories, and others that didn’t impress me much.

It focuses not on the Sherlock Holmes we know, but on other approaches, such as Holmes and Watson in the 70s, or as teenage girls, or in a China-like land of magic. This definitely stretches the canon pretty far, but also allows for something different. I’m quite an avid reader of Doyle’s original stories, and I’m always of a mixed opinion regarding that kind of approach: part of me wants to see what else can be done, in alternative universes, while another part always remains wary of what is going to be done to “my” Holmes, because past some point, it’s not really Holmes & Watson anymore. I’d deem myself as straddling the fence here.

Mostly I found this collection ranging from average to good, nothing abysmal or excellent. One thing I appreciated here, though, is the way Watson was handled: like a valuable partner to Holmes. I’ve always disliked when he was shown as a bumbling idiot (which he is really far from being); I didn’t get that feeling here. Whether as a drug-dealer in the 60s’ New york City or as a magician at the court of a powerful lord, Watson (or Jane, or Wu Tsan…) wasn’t some of comic relief, but a character in his/her own right.

On the other hand, for an anthology that wanted itself different, sometimes I thought it could’ve carried things just a tad bit further, for instance by playing more on the female!Holmes or female!Watson variation, or by exploring other venues than London or the United States, which were often used. Another gripe would be that the mysteries in some of the stories weren’t so interesting; a couple of them didn’t even have Sherlock solve something.

The ones I liked:

The Final Conjuration, in which “Wu Tsan” the magician summons a demon called “The Sherlock” to help him investigate the mysterious death of one of the Seven Wizards of his country. The twist at the end definitely made me grin. Clever, clever Holmes.
Parallels, in which “Jane” writes AU Sherlock/Holmes fanfiction she doesn’t want her best friend “Charlotte” to see. Nothing really unexpected here, but I have a weak spot for stories that play on tropes, web communities, fanfiction, and/or hint to other books or series. Charlotte also mirrored well enough Holmes’s sometimes devious ways of causing clues to pop up.
A Woman’s Place also caught my attention for the way it plays on Mrs. Hudson’s role as someone who’s always here to listen to conversations if she so decides, and why she does it.
Half There/All There if you have at least some knowledge of the 60s’ scene and like reading about it, and for its exploration of Watson and Holmes’s potential relationshop.
The Innocent Icarus is interesting as well for its worldbuilding: a Victorian setting in which everybody has some kind of special power, and that allows for another type of questioning (i.e. the different reactions of people who’re born without powers).

It’s not the best anthology I’ve ever read, and it might deter a reader who’s not at ease with stories sometimes veering towards the bizarre and nonsensical, but overall, it was still a pleasant enough read.

Yzabel / September 12, 2014

The Thief Taker

The Thief Taker by C.S. Quinn

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

The year is 1665. Black Death ravages London. A killer stalks the streets in a plague doctor’s hood and mask…

When a girl is gruesomely murdered, thief taker Charlie Tuesday reluctantly agrees to take on the case. But the horrific remains tell him this is no isolated death. The killer’s mad appetites are part of a master plan that could destroy London – and reveal the dark secrets of Charlie’s own past.

Now the thief taker must find this murderous mastermind before the plague obliterates the evidence street by street. This terrifying pursuit will take Charlie deep into the black underbelly of old London, where alchemy, witchcraft and blood-spells collide.

In a city drowned in darkness, death could be the most powerful magic of all.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

When it comes to knowing whether you liked a book or not, some are really hard to place. This novel is one of those.

I really liked its atmosphere: London in 1665, the way its streets and buildings were depicted, how travelling from one place to another was so much different from what we know today, the many people we get to see, all both divided and united in a common fear. The plague is raging, and everyone wants out… or tries to do with what they have, including remedies and protective measures that we would definitely find stupid today, but that must have made sense at some point. The illness is sometimes depicted in really gruesome ways, and it helps enforcing the constant fear, the terror as soon as someone realises his spouse or her friend is developing “plague tokens”. The description of the plague doctor was also very vivd, instilling dread as soon as he appeared.

The interactions between Charlie and Anna-Maria were quite funny at times—he the boy left in an orphanage and proficient in the ways of the street, she a young woman with the manners and expectations of someone born in a good, though impoverished family. At first, I had my fears that
she would be a dead weight, but fortunately she proved she had resources of her own when it came to improvising and remaining strong throughout their journey to find who killed her sister.

However, I thought the plot on too many convenient occurrences (that happened by chance, and not because Charlie or Maria already had the relationships or resources needed). For instance, a character who discovered one of the victims’ corpses later appears to work for another character that Charlie happens to know, and is also a relation of yet another character that Charlie also happens to know. All right, a lot of people had either fled or died from the plague, but surely the world can’t be such a small place all the time? I would have accepted those coincidences easily if they had been of Charlie’s making, but here they were too much on the deus ex machina side.

I also found the last chapters to be a muddle of sorts. Some things happened, yet when I thought about them, I realised that I didn’t see them actually happen in a chapter, and that there logically wouldn’t have had time for them to happen; the narrative should have shown them to the reader, at least. Revelations about the real identity of the murderer left me wondering if I had completely missed something, or if it was just confusing. Same with how everyone was related within the plot. I felt as if everything was dumped on me all at once, too abruptly, and in a way
that didn’t always make sense.

Finally, I wished a few more elements had been explained. What of Charlie’s brother? What secrets did the papers hold? Was there actually some intriguing at the Court, considering how many hints were dropped that the King knew something, or that some of the people close to him were involved in some conspiracy? (Unless this book is the beginning of a series, in which case such information may be revealed in the next installment, but I’m not so sure about that.)

Conclusion: I really liked the depiction of plague-ravaged London in the 17th century, but the plot didn’t cut it so much for me in the end. 2.5 stars.

Yzabel / September 10, 2014

Yesterday’s Kin

Yesterday’s Kin by Nancy Kress

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Aliens have landed in New York.

A deadly cloud of spores has already infected and killed the inhabitants of two worlds. Now that plague is heading for Earth, and threatens humans and aliens alike. Can either species be trusted to find the cure?

Geneticist Marianne Jenner is immersed in the desperate race to save humanity, yet her family is tearing itself apart. Siblings Elizabeth and Ryan are strident isolationists who agree only that an alien conspiracy is in play. Marianne’s youngest, Noah, is a loner addicted to a drug that constantly changes his identity. But between the four Jenners, the course of human history will be forever altered.

Earth’s most elite scientists have ten months to prevent human extinction—and not everyone is willing to wait.

Review:

(I got an ARC courtesy of NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 out of 5 stars. It was a quick and pleasant read, though I must admit I guessed the twist fairly easily (am I getting good, or what? I used to never see them coming…).

I quite liked the science the story rested on (mitochondrial DNA). I’m not knowledgeable enough to tell whether everything was right or not, but it seemed to me it was, and I didn’t find it difficult to follow the more technical explanations later in the book.

The relationships between characters were interesting, and echoed the way aliens and terrans remained estranged from each other: isolationist aliens, communicating only with a select few, in an isolationist country, while the world has to face the prospect of a widespread, lethal disease… yet all the while, the concept of “family” keeps playing an important role, as a reminder that no matter what, emotional ties remain strong.

The reason why I didn’t like this book more is mostly because I thought it was too short. There would have been so many aspects to explore, go deeper into: the characters themselves (interesting family dynamics, that would’ve deserved more “screen time”, especially as far as Ryan and Elizabeth were concerned); the reactions in the months between the aliens’ arrival and the actual beginning of the story; the reactions of the rest of the world, too. The novel broached these topics, and gave more than just a few pointers—yet for me, it was a case of “either you’ve said too much, or not enough”. I wanted more, plain and simple, more of what looked like a fascinating society (the aliens), more of the humans’ actions and views on what would happen after the end. There’s a strong opening there, with two equally strong possible outcomes, and I felt it just ended a little too abruptly.

A good and entertaining story nonetheless. I do’nt think I’ve ever read any novel by this author (though I have one of her “how to write” books), but I’d definitely check out for more of her works in the future.

Yzabel / September 8, 2014

Review: Flesh Failure

Flesh Failure by Sèphera Girón

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

London, 1888: Agatha drags herself from a shallow grave to roam the fog-shrouded streets of the dark city, trying to piece together what happened. Her new friends, the ladies of the night, live in terror of Jack the Ripper, while Agatha persistently searches for what she discovers she needs to stay alive: electrical charges.

As her memory grows stronger, the hazy images from her past come into focus, but questions remain. Do her answers lie in the shadows of the streets, the hidden corridors of London Hospital, or someplace far more frightening?

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

An enjoyable take on the theme of animating the dead, woven with bits of historical events such as the Ripper’s murders. Agatha wakes up buried in the woods, and has to claw her way out of the earth. Only helped by brief flashes of memory, she goes on her own quest to find out what happened to her, why she recalls herself as different-looking, and who created her.

I’m going to confess to a total lack of impartiality here: I love stories on the theme of reanimated humans, creatures who start out as “monstrous” and have to find their way in the world, for all the questions they raise about our own humanity. This short novel may not have been perfect, but it still made me think about that no matter what. In spite of Agatha’s smell and scars, there were people who natueally came to help, fed her, gave her clothes, let her sleep in their home. They weren’t perfect people either, they had their flaws, they may end up rejecting her after a while, but the fact remains: there’s still goodness in human beings.

The novel deals with a certain kind of symbolism, too. Seven days for Agatha’s “rebirth”. Electricity as a conductor for life, but also as a means of destruction, just like fire can keep you warm, yet burn you to a crisp if you get too close. Though not exceptional, such symbols still remained interesting.

A few things didn’t sit too well with me. First, some editing blips (a character’s name is known before she’s properly introduced) and redundant mistakes (“then” instead of “than”) that became annoying after a while, and were likely not typos. There were also a couple of happenings that I can’t make up my mind about, because they’re a bit too close to Shelley’s story. The encounter with the blind man was one of those. I honestly don’t know if I liked this or not, if it was typical retelling homage or closer to a copy of the original scene. Then there was Agatha’s behaviour: I thought she could have questioned it more, especially when it came to her cravings for blood and how she responded to them. (If looking at Shelley’s story—and there’s no way a reader can’t see the parallels here, they’re totally on purpose—the “monster” started quite innocent, his gradual descent due to his trials. Agatha, on the other hand, seemed to start as a monster already, and maybe she was a little too inhuman, so there wasn’t that much character progress to have. That’d be my major complaint, and why I’m not rating it higher.)

The ending felt too abrupt, as if the story suddenly had to be wrapped up right now. However, it fits with what happens in the last paragraphs, so even though I would’ve liked to read more, writing it that way was actually logical.

Readers who aren’t so keen as I am about this kind of story may not find it more than “OK”, but in my case, it still struck a chord, and after the first slow pages, I got into it fairly easily.

Yzabel / September 6, 2014

Review: The Girl and the Clockwork Cat

The Girl and the Clockwork Cat by Nikki McCormack

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

Feisty teenage thief Maeko and her maybe-more-than-friend Chaff have scraped out an existence in Victorian London’s gritty streets, but after a near-disastrous heist leads her to a mysterious clockwork cat and two dead bodies, she’s thrust into a murder mystery that may cost her everything she holds dear.

Her only allies are Chaff, the cat, and Ash, the son of the only murder suspect, who offers her enough money to finally get off the streets if she’ll help him find the real killer.

What starts as a simple search ultimately reveals a conspiracy stretching across the entire city. And as Maeko and Chaff discover feelings for each other neither was prepared to admit, she’s forced to choose whether she’ll stay with him or finally escape the life of a street rat. But with danger closing in around them, the only way any of them will get out of this alive is if all of them work together.

Review:

(I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I had good expectations for this story (a street thief, victorian/steampunkish setting, part-mechanical cat), but in the end, it won’t leave me with a lasting impression, unfortunately.

The daughter of a prostitute and one of her unnamed customers, Maeko hit the streets after her mother got in debt, trying to help her pay it back as well as she could, but also resenting her. She made her way as a pickpocket and burglar, thanks to her nimble fingers and lithe body, and because she was street-savvy enough. That is, until the beginning of the novel, for at some point I thought she was not as clever as she was supposed to be. Some of her reactions seemed logical, but some of her other actions were too naive. (For instance, when she had to keep something from an enemy, she went back to a certain place, saw that said enemy had located it, too… yet she still went there to hide her package. The natural thing to do would have been to think “this place is compromised, he might not have believed what they told him, and come back later with more people.” At least that’s what “street rat thinking” should be for me.)

The setting itself is an alternate London divided between the Literati (the “modern society” and its police) and the pirates (those who openly don’t approve); the kids who fall between those are doomed to a life in an orphanage, reform house or work house, or to a life on the streets. Mostly we see this world through Maeko’s eyes, so of course everything couldn’t be developed, but it would’ve been better in my opinion if she had had just a little more interest in what happened around her, or if other characters had been there to give more information about that society. Some do… just not enough. This setting screams for more, having more to say about itself, without any room to do so.

The romance part was unneeded, a love triangle dumped out of nowhere on those poor characters. All it did was to make Maeko blush and blush and blush again and again. It quickly became old and tiring, and did not bring anything to the story. At least Maeko realised there was no time to think about boys in her predicament. On the downside, she had those thoughts fairly often, which created a tiresome cycle: “I think I like him. But I must not think about that now. But I think I like him. But I don’t have time to worry about this now.”

I wasn’t too impressed with the plot, which consisted mostly in two/three characters looking for people (the same people every time). Just like Maeko’s thoughts and blushing, it became repetitive after a while: locate people, see they’re already in someone else’s hands, realise they’re in no position to help them escape, retreat/get pursued by the police or detective, hide, rinse and repeat. I really wished the plot types would have been more varied.

The writing was all right, though a bit redundant and “telly” in places (especially when Maeko’s thought process was concerned).

The ending: if this is a standalone, then it deserved a better one, a proper one, that would wrap up everything, not just leave the reader to imagine “it probably happened like that”. If it wasn’t, it’s still a sort of cliffhanger, but one that doesn’t offer that many promises of revelations in a second book.

In the end, there were grounds for good things here, but those weren’t enough to make me enjoy the story.