December 2015 - The Y Logs

Yzabel / December 30, 2015

Review: Mad About the Hatter

Mad About the Hatter by Dakota Chase

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

This isn’t his sister’s Wonderland….

Henry never believed his older sister, Alice’s, fantastic tales about the world down the rabbit hole. When he’s whisked away to the bizarre land, his best chance for escape is to ally himself with the person called the Mad Hatter. Hatter—an odd but strangely attractive fellow—just wants to avoid execution. If that means delivering “Boy Alice” to the Queen of Hearts at her Red Castle, Hatter will do what he has to do to stay alive. It doesn’t matter if Henry and Hatter find each other intolerable. They’re stuck with each other.

Along their journey, Henry and Hatter must confront what they’ve always accepted as truth. As dislike grows into tolerance and something like friendship, the young men see the chance for a closer relationship. But Wonderland is a dangerous place, and first they have to get away with their lives.

Review:

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

A slightly different take on Wonderland, with a highschooler character instead of a little girl, and with Alice (and her brother) as contemporary young people. Not the usual Wonderland, but why not? The world had that delicious, in a nonsensical, atmosphere, with its inner “logics” that appears silly at first, yet also holds its own explanation when you think about it. That’s something I had liked in Carroll’s story: how much “wonder” is in fact governed by its own rules, if you care to dig deeper and have a look at them.

However, this novel didn’t accomplish much in the end. It was more light-hearted than I had expected, and the dangers the characters had to face never felt really prominent. The Red Queen and her guards could’ve been much more of a threat, but never were. The action ended up being mostly Henry and Hatter wandering around (in dangerous areas that didn’t feel as wonderful and at the same time dangerous as they did in the original novel), with a thin enough plot, all things considered. A bit of a twist after the second third, sure… and that was all.

I didn’t care much for Henry either, who didn’t seem to have much of a personality, and looked more the pouting teenager on the verge of throwing tantrums (at least the Red Queen’s were to be expected). The mutual attraction between him and Hatter was cute, but… nothing more. Barely any character development here, and not the kind of relationship I thought I’d find here. It also hovered too much between actual romance and barely-touched-upon romance, which in turn made it a weird mix: either too much or not enough. As if, past some point, the novel couldn’t decide whether to take things further or not.

A few brain farts as well when it came to the writing style: at times emulating the original tale’s, at others much too close to spoken modern style. The clash between both wasn’t very pleasant.

Conclusion: cute, fluffy, and a nice read if you don’t want to think too much. While readable, it was nothing exceptional.

Yzabel / December 27, 2015

Review: Marked

Marked by Sue Tingey

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

With no family and very few friends, Lucky’s psychic ability has always made her an outcast. The only person she can rely on is Kayla, the ghost girl who has been with her since she was born.

But Kayla is not all that she appears.

And when Lucky is visited by a demonic assassin with a message for her friend, she finds herself dragged into the Underlands – and the political fight for the daemon king’s throne.

Lucky, trapped in the daemon world, is determined to find her way home… until she finds herself caught between the charms of the Guardian Jamie, the charismatic Daemon of Death Jinx – and the lure of finding out who she really is.

Review:

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

I almost gave up. But I don’t like not finishing a book I’m supposed to review, so I made an effort.

First reason is because I didn’t exactly get what I expected. When I got the novel, the blurb I read led me to believe the story would be focused on paranormal investigation. The actual story, though, is more of the paranormal/supernatural romance type, with very little investigating in it. Not saying this is bad per se, but I’m not a huge proponent of romance at the best of times, and this one, like many others should I say, just didn’t work.

For the record, this is the blurb I first read:

In a world filled with charlatans, Lucinda “Lucky” de Salle’s psychic ability has always made her an outcast, even as it has also made her a sought-after (if reluctant) investigator of paranormal phenomena. With no remaining family and very few friends, she has only one “person” she can rely on–Kayla, the ghost girl who has been her constant companion since she was born.

When Lucky is called in to investigate a spectral disturbance at the all-girls school she attended as a child, she isn’t surprised. She herself had had a terrifying confrontation with the troubled spirits of two girls who died in the attic room. But when Lucky goes up to the attic, she discovers that the vicious little girls are the least of the problem–a demon has been released into this world, a creature of such malevolence that even the spirits of the two girls are afraid. When the demon demands that Kayla be handed over to him, Lucky realizes that this case will be like no other she has ever experienced.

For one thing, it seems that her chatty, snarky spirit companion is not what she has always seemed to be…

Second reason is… the one that always makes me grit my teeth and feel like climbing up the curtains and scream: “Stop holding back information!” Typically goes as follows: Important Character finds him/herself in dangerous circumstances, and needs to tread on eggs; however, in order to properly tread on eggs, you obviously need background information—background information that other characters have, bur refuse to disclose for Some Reason, usually of the “you don’t want to know” or “don’t look” kind. Which is the best way of getting Important Character killed, or at least committing some Horrible Faux-Pas, but whatever, I guess we’re dealing with some Schrödinger’s Logics here.

So when half the book is filled with such inane moments, of course I’m bound to be annoyed. Lucky being a bit of a doormat in that regard, too easily allowing shifty characters to derail the conversation, didn’t help.

Third: Male Posturing. I am oh so fed up with all those hot sexy love interests immediately crapping out testosterone as soon as they end up in the same room. I can understand Lucky not wanting to be involved with guys if it’s meant to be like that all the time. Also the whole “now you bear my mark” thing, a.k.a “You’re Mine In Whatever Way I Choose, by the way I never asked your opinion before lumping this on you but it’s fine, right, I’m sure you don’t mind”. In a nutshell (I hate that expression so I’m going to use it just out of spite): doormat female character being treated like an item, and thrown under false pretenses in a world where women’s most prized value is to allow their future husbands access to positions of power (and then they can pop out kids, then get offed when they’ve outlived their usefulness).

And there you also have the plot, not making much sense, and without much happening. The last chapters became a little more interesting (although still with the whole let’s-be-sex-toys-together thing at moments when it just shouldn’t have been there); yet what led to it could probably have been avoided had Lucky been a little less dumb, and her “protectors” more forthcoming with what may be taking place behind the scenes and how to start playing the political game. Seriously, you don’t dump a person into such a situation “for your own safety”, then tell her “actually you’re in great danger here too”, then add “but I’m not going to explain to you how it works because Reasons.”

I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on the next one. Definitely not my thing.

Yzabel / December 19, 2015

Review: The Pyramids of London

The Pyramids of London by Andrea K. Höst

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

In a world where lightning sustained the Roman Empire, and Egypt’s vampiric god-kings spread their influence through medicine and good weather, tiny Prytennia’s fortunes are rising with the ships that have made her undisputed ruler of the air.

But the peace of recent decades is under threat. Rome’s automaton-driven wealth is waning along with the New Republic’s supply of power crystals, while Sweden uses fear of Rome to add to her Protectorates. And Prytennia is under attack from the wind itself. Relentless daily blasts destroy crops, buildings, and lives, and neither the weather vampires nor Prytennia’s Trifold Goddess have been able to find a way to stop them.

With events so grand scouring the horizon, the deaths of Eiliff and Aedric Tenning raise little interest. The official verdict is accident: two careless automaton makers, killed by their own construct.

The Tenning children and Aedric’s sister, Arianne, know this cannot be true. Nothing will stop their search for what really happened.

Not even if, to follow the first clue, Aunt Arianne must sell herself to a vampire.

Review:

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

Good ideas in terms of world building, although in general, I found the novel a little confusing.

Lots of concepts introduced here, with references to our world: Prytennia is obviously Britain, the Roman Empire and Egypt speak for themselves, and so it was very easy to picture the setting, geographically speaking. There’s still royalty in “Britain”: check. Lutèce is Paris: check (shall I admit to knowing quite a few cities’ old Roman names thanks to “Asterix”?). Various deities associated to various cults, like Cernunnos or Lakshmi: check. At first, it may look like a mish-mash, but it makes a lot of sense in a context where, many centuries ago, the Gods “Answered” people’s prayers and actually descended on the world, or made themselves incarnate in other ways. The Egyptian “gods”, for instance, who gave birth to several strains of vampirism, each with its own powers (the Shu control winds, the Thoth-den use their blood to heal people, the Ma’at can tell who’s lying…). Or Sulis (who in our world used to be worshipped at Bath), who manifests herself through three women, the Suleviae. For someone who knows a little about mythology, or even knows the very basics and wants to learn more, this book gives a few tracks to follow.

However, I didn’t get the same feeling here I got from the blurb. Prytennia’s climate seems to be warm (I immediately imagined cities close to the desert, with people wearing “skirts” instead of trousers), but I didn’t feel the urgency of being “under attack from the wind itself”. The political intrigues from the Swedes, through their representative Gustav, seemed to be more of an afterthought than something that would really affect Prytennia. The “selling oneself to a vampire” part didn’t seem that bad: more a contract for a decade or so, without aging, and I guess there are so many worse ways to indenture oneself. I don’t know if this came from the plot itself (Arianne and her nieces and nephew investigating to know what happened to the dead parents) or from the narrative, the way it was woven. Maybe I was expecting something else.

I also couldn’t push myself to really care for the characters. Arianne’s calm take on basically everything dampened the predicament she was in (potentially turning into a vampire against her will—that’s not a spoiler, you know about it in the very first chapters). The romantic interests came a little out of nowhere, and I’m not sure if they were exactly important when pitched against the backdrop of “who dunnit” and “there’s a secret behind what our parents were working on”. When some characters disappeared, I wasn’t so invested, because I hadn’t gotten to know them more beforehand, and they were more sidenotes for me than people. Mostly I felt that the characters were removed from themselves, dispassionately looking at their own lives from afar, and so in turn I looked at them from afar, too.

Still, I liked the world developed here. Perhaps a bit too much was shoved in the reader’s face from the beginning (any book that needs a glossary tends to be of that kind), but some more careful reading on my part allowed me to quickly grab what it was all about. And it’s definitely a good thing that a lot of the characters are women, and they do Important Things, and it’s completely normal because women in this world get to do Important Things all the time anyway, and it’s not only the men’s turf. (The Queen is part of a goddess incarnate and gets to mingle with dragons, one of the princesses commands a very special kind of guard/spies, girls get to study engineering and can land apprenticeships in workshops, or even have workshops of their own, without society making them feel “improper”… Etc.)

I may decide to grab the second volume at some point. I don’t know yet. I’m hovering around the 2.5 stars mark here, in between some parts I found “OK” and others that made me think “this is a good idea, I like it”. (Vampires especially: they aren’t emo creatures, they become like that due to a symbiotic relationship with specific strains living in their blood, they have souls, they believe in an Egyptian-like Otherworld where they have to strengthen their ba before being able to carry on.) If the next book can get past the somewhat-confusing approach to this world, and focuses more on the characters in a way that would make me feel involved, then I’ll be interested.

Yzabel / December 16, 2015

Review: Twelve Kings in Sharakhai

Twelve Kings in Sharakhai by Bradley P. Beaulieu

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

The first book in the Song of Shattered Sands trilogy—an epic fantasy in the vein of A Thousand and One Nights.

In the city of Sharakhai, Çeda fights in the pits to scrape by a living. She, like so many in the city, pray for the downfall of the cruel, immortal Kings of Sharakhai. Then on the holy night when the powerful yet wretched creatures known as the Asirim wander the city and take tribute in order to protect the Kings, one of them tells Çeda the origin of their dark bargain. And this dangerous secret may be the very key she needs to throw off the iron grip the Kings have had over Sharakhai…

Review:

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

I’m not sure how to rate this book, so I’ll go with 3 stars for now.

It’s not a bad book, definitely not. It’s actually pretty interesting, with a setting that for once isn’t the typical “European medieval fantasy” one, and is closer to a kind of 1001 Nights world. A city in the desert, a little world of culture and trade with tribes from the outside, powerful and rife with intrigue, slum dwellers, thieves, pit fights, all under the watchful eyes of twelve immortal lords (the Kings) and their specially trained guard, the Maidens of the Blade (who are actual daughters of those kings, recruited and trained to serve their fathers, then train their sisters/cousins later). The Maidens have their own rituals, their own strifes, their special brand of loyalty to the Kings, who in turn also have *their* rituals: on the night of Beht Zha’ir, every six weeks, people close their doors and tremble in their homes, for the mysterious and dreadful asirim, servants of the Kings, walk the streets to take away those who have been “chosen”. And, of course, the chosen are never to be seen again.

In the middle of this setting, Çedamihn and her friend/heart brother, Emre, wade a world of intrigue: both as runners for Osman, and Çeda as fighter in the pits under the mask of the “White Wolf”. When Emre is attacked carrying the second half of a mysterious package, Çeda starts investigating, and soon discovers that she may have to dive at last in yet another world, of magic and legends, of gods and immortal beings: the one where her mother was killed by the Kings, the one where she is meant to avenge her, the one where she lets the adichara petals melt under her tongue to sharpen her sense, and sneaks in the desert at night to witness strange happenings in the sacred gardens full of blooms only the Kings and Maidens are allowed to harvest.

The author also plays on other points of view than Çeda’s, and also uses “flashback chapters” to bring in parts of her and Emre’s history. I know such techniques aren’t always well-liked, but as far as I was concerned, I thought them welcome. The flashbacks are inserted precisely where they matter, highlighting the main plot, and the secondary POVs were useful to grasp other sides of the world, when it wouldn’t have made sense for Çeda to live such moments.

In other words: intrigue and enchantment for me.

And yet, I don’t really know why, I spent quite some time poising between “want to keep reading” and “let’s read something else”. Maybe because this wasn’t a good period for me to read long fantasy books—in which case, by all means, don’t let this prevent you from giving a try at this first volume of the series. (For what it’s worth, at the moment, I really don’t feel like reading ASoIaF either.) Or maybe because, in some parts, the story moved a bit too slowly, with the plot being fairly obvious for the reader? (Çeda’s secret was too easy to guess for me, so by the time she discovered it herself, I had already moved on.)

Basically, the first and last chapters felt exciting. Same with others towards the middle. And then there were lulls.

However, by the end of the book, the setting is, well, ready for more, and different threads are woven. The Moonless Host. Çeda’s and Emre’s diverging paths, that may yet still bring them together in more than one way. The Kings and the Maidens, and Çeda’s involvment in their plots. The strange Meryam and her blood magic, as well as the lord travelling with her—their paths, too, aren’t as straightforward as they first appear…

This could definitely lead to something interesting, so I’m likely to keep an eye on this series to see how those plots unfurl.

Yzabel / December 12, 2015

Review: Sandman Overture

Sandman Overture Deluxe Edition by Neil Gaiman

My rating: [rating=5]

Blurb:

Twenty-five years since THE SANDMAN first changed the landscape of modern comics, Neil Gaiman’s legendary series is back in a deluxe edition!

THE SANDMAN: OVERTURE heralds New York Times best-selling writer Neil Gaiman’s return to the art form that made him famous, ably abetted by artistic luminary JH Williams III (BATWOMAN, PROMETHEA), whose lush, widescreen images provide an epic scope to The Sandman’s origin story. From the birth of a galaxy to the moment that Morpheus is captured, THE SANDMAN: OVERTURE will feature cameo appearances by fan-favorite characters such as The Corinthian, Merv Pumpkinhead and, of course, the Dream King’s siblings: Death, Desire, Despair, Delirium, Destruction and Destiny.

Review:

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

Seldom have I regretted having only a PDF copy instead of a paper one—I can usually shake off the regret and unease easily enough. My bank account will NOT love me in weeks to come, all the more since I am now also sorely tempted to get the Sandman omnibus.

I discovered the Sandman comics when I was 18 or so. I used to get French translations from a second-hand books store whenever I had the money (same with the Death comics), and even though I never owned many of them, and ended up selling them later because I 1) had to move, 2) wanted to get them in English instead, I also never stopped wanting to go back time and again to this world.

“Overture” doesn’t disappoint. Gathering the six issues of the eponymous story, it’s a festival of different styles, whether in drawing, colouring, layout or lettering, working all together to create that peculiar yet delightful atmosphere of being in a dream, thrown into ever-changing landscapes where reason always comes with madness, or is it the other way round? Paradoxical staircases. Panels rotating until they come full-circle. Characters in full colour on one page, then switch to pastels or whites on the next, to accomodate a change in the narrative… or—again—is it the other way round?

And however, if you pay closer attention, you realise that it all makes so much sense, and isn’t merely a blend of nonsensical scenes “meant to look like a dream”. Colours, images and forms echo each other, reminding you of something from the previous chapter, or foreshadowing a chapter yet to come. It is truly fascinating. Also, my neck hurts now, because not being able to turn a book around in my hands, I turned my head downwards to look at my screen. I kid you not.

Noteworthy as well is how the book echoes other Sandman stories, in another of those going-full-circle structures I mentioned aboves. Chronologically-speaking, “Overture” comes before “Preludes & Nocturnes”, and can be read independently; but knowing what happened in the Sandman-verse in general, even roughly, will definitely help enjoy this comics even more, as the latter references quite a few characters, events and scenes (I’m positive I missed more than one, too). Remember the crazy ole lady. Remember the Dream of a Thousand Cats. Remember that final word of ‘Hope’. Ever wondered how Dream came to be so weak that he could be imprisoned, in the very first comics? Right. And so many others.

I need this book in physical form. Plain and simple.

As a side note: it also contains a few add-ons in the shape of interviews and Q & As about drawing and lettering, among other things. Those are worth reading just as well, as they cast light on the artists’ choices.

Yzabel / December 10, 2015

Review: Nirvana

Nirvana by J.R. Stewart

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

When the real world is emptied of all that you love, how can you keep yourself from dependence on the virtual?

Larissa Kenders lives in a world where the real and the virtual intermingle daily. After the supposed death of her soulmate, Andrew, Larissa is able to find solace by escaping to Nirvana, a virtual world where anything is possible – even visits with Andrew. Although Larissa is told that these meetings are not real, she cannot shake her suspicion that Andrew is indeed alive. When she begins an investigation of Hexagon, the very institution that she has been taught to trust, Larissa uncovers much more than she ever expected and places herself in serious danger. Her biggest challenge, however, remains determining what is real – and what is virtual.

Nirvana is the first instalment in the three-part “Nirvana” series, a fast-paced, page-turning young adult trilogy that combines elements of the romance, mystery, and science fiction genres. This first novel introduces readers to a heroine who refuses to give up on the man she loves, even if it means taking on an entire government to do so.

Review:

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

I can’t remember how I got approved. I think I received an invitation, months ago, but didn’t get to reading the book until now. And then, halfway through, I realised what I had was the first ARC, and that I needed to download it again, because the author had rewritten a lot after the first batch of reviews. Or something to that extent? Anyway, I got the second version, and I’m glad I did. I still didn’t like “Nirvana” in the end, but I can commend the effort, as there was quite some improvement compared to the first version. (On the other hand, it gets to show that when a book’s in a first draft state, or close to it, it’s really best not to publish it… Reviewers aren’t beta-readers.)

The premise was definitely interesting: future dystopia, post-apocalyptic world after a series of environmental disasters, people living under tight control from corporations (mainly Hexagon), and blowing their hard-earned money on a virtual world named Nirvana—even as little as one quarter of an hour a week, as it’s the only escape from daily drudgery in bunkers. In typical dystopian fashion, our heroine, Larissa (prefers to be called Kenders) discovers dark secrets while investigating into the death of her boyfriend Andrew. Also in typical dystopian fashion, there’s a clear cut between the elite, the rich and famous, who can afford housing in “the Bubble”, whereas the others are left to survive however they can: as Nirvana operators if they’re lucky, as slaves in the Farms if they’re not.

To be honest, it’s pretty difficult for me to review only the second version, without thinking about the first one. The second version felt, all in all, smoother: where the first one threw me in a world where Kenders patrolled the wastelands as a soldier, without much sense of direction, here she felt much more integrated in her world, being a Nirvana operator. The technology seemed more real, too, better thought and described, and the narrative more logical: moving fast, but clearly not as over the place as the first version’s was. I could tell where the story was improved, and in a way, I’m glad I got to read both versions (at least partially).

I didn’t like it, though. A shame, but, well, it happens.

– The character’s age, first. In the original story, Kenders was 24, Andrew and Serge a couple of years older… And this was good. Now Kenders is 17, the guys are 19-20, and this felt just so weird. I could believe in a 24-year-old now-soldier, ex-punk rocker/university student. But the same character aged 17, reflecting on all that stuff she had done “years ago”? Not believable, especially not when surrounded with people of the same type (so many “gifted kids” in one place, when nothing highlighted that fact = strange). Moreover, it cast a shadow on the Kenders-Andrew relationship: I always have a hard time with those “old couple-slash-soulmates forever” tropes when the characters are so young.

– The environmental disaster(s). They felt like they happened in 1-2 years, even if they were nothing new for the characters, and the world-building here was kind of lazy, too. The bees disappeared, OK, but they’re not the only way plants can reproduce. Other species play a part as well. I wasn’t sold on that one reason.

– The explanation heavy-handed “corporations are evulz” message.

– The beginning of the novel was smoother (the parts with Serge and in the Bubble made much more sense!), but the last chapters went so fast! One moment, this or that character was alive… then they were dead, and it happened in such a quick and dispassionate way that I was all “Wait, what… Oh… Am I supposed to feel sad, now?” I couldn’t get invested in their lives, their emotions, in what was at stake for them. Kenders being in a punk rock band didn’t add much to her personality, and the part with her father… didn’t lead to much either?

– Some very, very stupid decisions. Of the too-stupid-to-live kind. Literally. Why did so-and-so have to engineer such a situation where they would end up dying along with the enemy, when there were likely other solutions? Why didn’t they anticipate that the “bad guys” wouldn’t come alone / wouldn’t be fooled by the diversion? *That* kind of decisions. And Kenders wasn’t especially clever.

– Nirvana itself. Mostly it was Kenders meeting Andrew in their 2-3 favourite online places. In the end, I didn’t get the effect I was expecting (i.e. “lost in a virtual world / confusing virtual world with reality and vice versa”). Both worlds were always very clearly delimited in my opinion.

– The Red Door program. It gets lumped on us in the beginning and at the end, but there was no real central thread regarding this. I was under the impression it was here just because any dystopian world needs its oppressive, gets-rid-of-“dissenters” program.

– Info dumps. Lots of them. This didn’t change much between the first and second versions.

– The love triangle. Not even worth mentioning. Uh.

Conclusion: An improved version, but one that would still need lots of work for me to enjoy it.

Yzabel / December 8, 2015

Review: Menagerie

Menagerie by Rachel Vincent

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

When Delilah Marlow visits a famous traveling carnival, Metzger’s Menagerie, she is an ordinary woman in a not-quite-ordinary world. But under the macabre circus black-top, she discovers a fierce, sharp-clawed creature lurking just beneath her human veneer. Captured and put on exhibition, Delilah in her black swan burlesque costume is stripped of her worldly possessions, including her own name, as she’s forced to “perform” in town after town.

But there is breathtaking beauty behind the seamy and grotesque reality of the carnival. Gallagher, her handler, is as kind as he is cryptic and strong. The other “attractions” — mermaids, minotaurs, gryphons and kelpies — are strange, yes, but they share a bond forged by the brutal realities of captivity. And as Delilah struggles for her freedom, and for her fellow menagerie, she’ll discover a strength and a purpose she never knew existed.

Review:

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

An interesting read, for its themes and the issues it raised. What defines “humanity”. How a whole category of beings were enslaved and treated like dirt because they were considered as sub-human and not even worth the attention you’d give a pet. The dichtomy between the handlers, some of whose displayed really crappy features, and the cryptids (with some being savage beasts, but others also being loving parents, like the werewolf Claudio and the cat-shifter Zyanya, much more humane than humans here. There were somewhat decent people in the lot (Alyrose, Atherton)… and yet not everything was in black and white, as these nevertheless didn’t raise above the others: they didn’t want to lose their jobs, they didn’t want to attract unwanted attention from the police, etc. Not the most original approach, and one that became a bit heavy-handed after a while; still, it kept me interested nonetheless.

I liked the depiction of the circus, the state of misery, hunger and weakness the cryptids were left in, with the most “dangerous” ones (sirens, creatures with enchanting powers…) kept sedated. It enhanced how awful their daily life was, although I woud’ve liked to see more world-building in that regard: how came they let themselves be treated in such a way, for instance? Were they killed en masse, threatened with lethal weapons, or captured through more insidious means? Did the humans hit them all at once to ensure they couldn’t strike back? And what exactly was the reaping? A few snippets from “newspaper articles” etc., prefacing the different parts of the novel, brought some insight into the events of the 1980s leading to the cryptids being oppressed; I would’ve appreciated seeing more (or less cryptic snippets), with more details about how exactly this went on.

I found the pacing uneven, too, as events ran much faster in the last chapters—too fast, compared to the rhythm of the novel in general. Even though the supernatural aspects were more exciting, quite a few things happened (for instance, those moments with Delilah’s mother, or with Kevin) and it felt as if they were swept under the carpet quickly after, with little aftermath for the characters. It’s difficult to know if Romilly’s predictions about Eryx were fulfilled here, and we’re done with that arc, or if something else is coming in the next volume. It’s difficult to determine if the events in this book (Adira…) are going to impact the characters, or if this is done as well.

Delilah… I found her annoying most of the time, and while she became better towards the end, I didn’t care much for her. On the one hand, I wanted to root for her because she didn’t let herself be abused without retaliating at least in words; on the other hand, her reactions often bordered on stupid, inviting more abuse. It was tricky, as finding a balance between “giving up” and “biding one’s time until it’s time to strike back” is very difficult, so I can’t fault her for being who she was, but I think the way it was done is what grated on my nerves.

I definitely wasn’t sold on the narrative being in 3rd person, except Delilah’s, in 1st person: because it highlighted what a special snowflake she was, and also because the prose looked weird in places, for instance when she described herself being shocked or in fear: “Terror pooled in my stomach like acid, eating at me from the inside” looks definitely weird in 1st person.

Overall it was an okay novel, but I’m not sure I’m feeling invested enough in the characters to want to read the next book in this series. 2.5 stars.

Yzabel / December 5, 2015

Review: Yesterday’s Gone (Season 1)

Yesterday’s Gone: Season One by Sean Platt

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

On October 15 at 2:15 a.m. everyone on Earth vanished.

Well, almost everyone.

A scattered few woke alone in a world where there are no rules other than survival… at any cost.

A journalist wanders the wretched reality of an empty New York, in search for his wife and son.

A serial killer must hunt in a land where prey is now an endangered species.

A mother shields her young daughter from danger, as every breath ﬁlls her with terror.

A bullied teen is thrilled to ﬁnd everyone gone. Until the knock on his door.

A fugitive survives a ﬁery plane crash. Will he be redeemed, or return to what he’s best at: the kill?

An eight year old boy sets out on a journey to ﬁnd his missing family. What he ﬁnds will change him forever.

And there’s a few people who aren’t surprised that this happened at all. In fact, they’ve been dreaming about this day for years.

These survivors aren’t alone…
Someone or something is watching them.
And waiting…

Strangers unite.

Sides are chosen.

Will humanity survive what it never saw coming?

The only certainty is that Yesterday’s Gone.

Review:

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

I seldom read serials, and I admit that reading one in the shape of a “novel” of gathered episodes kind of defeats the purpose (all the more since the authors mention their love of cliffhangers at the end), but… nevermind. I was in the mood for post-apocalyptic stuff, anyway.

So far, this first “season” isn’t the most original thing I’ve read when it comes to this theme: most people gone, survivors trying to figure out what happened (with some being really awful chaps), mysterious aliens-or-zombies creatures that may or may not be the reason behind the catastrophe, an infection… It’s part alien sci-fi, part zombie post-ap, and readers who enjoy the typical tropes of such stories are likely to get their share here, although at times it felt like a jumble of subplots more than a structured story, as if the authors were going along with whatever struck their fancy. This may or may not be true; I couldn’t make up my mind about it, as every time some new elements was introduced, I thought “yet another idea…, then “this could still come together in the end, with more seasons to go, depending on what they do, so let’s wait and see.” Truth be told, we don’t get a lot of clues about what’s happening behind the scenes; the hints are more of the gory variety (the worms, people being killed…)

The format itself is very TV-like, an obvious goal, and one I was looking for. It wouldn’t be difficult to imagine this serial as episodes, complete with regular shifts from group to group. This worked well enough for me. There’s no shortage of action, and as the focus jumped from one character to another, I often found myself wanting to know more about the one left in a predicament… while also wanting to read about the current focus, that is. There were a few boring parts (I didn’t really like the ones about the kids, the Uno game, etc., as I was of course interested in what the characters would do as survivors), especially in the middle, although the pacing managed to bring me back in again in the last third of the book.

The characters are fairly typical of such stories. Survivalists (both good and bad people), some of whom were united by strange dreams and knew beforehand they had to prepare for the apocalypse. An ex-government agent/spook. A pregnant teenager from a conservative family. A father who now regrets he let his work get in the way of his family. A mother trying to protect her daughter. A young man who finds himself stuck, supreme irony, with his abusive stepfather, instead of the latter being dead/gone like most other people. A guy whose last conversation with his now-gone wife was an argument. A kid who meets an old man, the latter taking him under his wing. Even a serial killer.

I remained torn about these characters for most of the story: some of them are uninteresting and would deserve more spotlight to be allowed to shine, but others are definitely intriguing, even though not always exploited to their best, plot-wise.

Boricio was one of the vilest ones in this story, and yet, in spite of all the revolting stuff about him, especially the way he treated women, he also had a sort of “heroic bastard” side to him, probably because he was written with a humorous, slapstick comedy side; oddly enough, some of his scenes were enjoyable… in a much twisted way–like a train wreck that you can’t help but keep looking at. Edward, too, was fascinating: I still don’t know what’s true about him, what’s make-believe, who’s right about him, and let’s not forget the twist at the end of his arc in this first season.

On the other hand, the female characters were a letdown: mostly here to be the object of violence (Callie, Paola after her dream) and/or to be rescued and protected (Teagan, Mary and Paola) by the guys. The only “active” female character is the one in Boricio’s narrative, and she’s clearly one of the baddies, on top of not being developed anyway (Callie is first shown as badass, same in her flashback, but quickly devolves into frightened-girl-in-need-of-protection). And don’t start me on the rape scene, so nicely wrapped and dropped under the rug as a sort of afterthought; that was seriously infuriating. Definitely not the way to write such a scene and its aftermath, to say the least.

In terms of writing style, something that bothered me was the use of numbers (it feels really weird to read “20 yards” and not “twenty yards” in a novel – though maybe it’s just me). Another issue was a tendency to resort to “descriptive” sentences (he did this, she did that), which ended up in a lot of cases of “telling, not showing.” Finally, the dialogues also felt stilted most of the time, with a lot of flashback-type narratives when characters revealed what had happened to them; not uninteresting in itself, but told in ways that didn’t feel very natural, as if they were, well, scripted.

Conclusion: 2.5 stars. I will likely read book 2, since I also got it through NetGalley anyway, because “Yesterday’s Gone” was interesting in more than one way. But I can only hope that this series will improve in terms of writing style and character development (and that we’ll get actual revelations about the monsters and the shady ops guys).

Yzabel / December 4, 2015

Review: The Night Parade

The Night Parade by Kathryn Tanquary

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

The last thing Saki Yamamoto wants to do for her summer vacation is trade in exciting Tokyo for the antiquated rituals and bad cell reception of her grandmother’s village. Preparing for the Obon ceremony is boring. Then the local kids take an interest in Saki and she sees an opportunity for some fun, even if it means disrespecting her family’s ancestral shrine on a malicious dare.

But as Saki rings the sacred bell, the darkness shifts. A death curse has been invoked… and Saki has three nights to undo it. With the help of three spirit guides and some unexpected friends, Saki must prove her worth – or say good-bye to the world of the living forever.

Review:

(I received an ARC copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Although I didn’t find this novel exceptional as far as I am concerned as an adult (simple writing style and predictable character development), I think it would nonetheless make a good read for its intended middle-grade audience.

The story is easy enough to follow. A middle school girl (Saki) forced to spend a few days for a traditional ritual at her grandmother’s, far from her city friends, cell phone and usual activities. Her family’s fairly typical, with her parents and an annoying brother, and Saki immediately comes off as annoying, too, since it’s obvious she’s self-centered and somewhat whiny, and that she associates with people who’re only friends on the surface (out of cowardice more than real nastiness, though: she wants to be popular, and doesn’t dare risk alienating the Queen Bees, so to speak). Not a very likeable character, which however leaves room for growth once she realises that in the country just like in Tōkyō, she needs to cut the crap and stop being such a big baby.

This characterisation is somewhat problematic, in that, as said, Saki’s not very likeable, and possibly difficult for a reader to identify with, because she represents aspects we usually don’t want to acknowledge in ourselves, especially when we’re teenagers: she’s kind of a bully by association, but also weak and ready to do silly things just to avoid being rejected. Her development, in turn, becomes predictable: either she stays like that or she becomes a better person, by learning to pick her friends and stand in the face of the real bullies. (I wasn’t sold on the stereotypical bullies; she’s “friends” with one in the city, then meets another one in her grandmother’s village, and both situations being so similar somewhat made them a bit unbelievable and cliché.)

On the other hand, such an evolution is a positive one, and seeing a character progress and find her own path is always nice. The novel shows how Saki gets to grow up and respect many things she didn’t pay attention to before, including family bonds, through her adventures following the Night Parade. Another good thing is how she’s represented as a young girl/teenager first and foremost, and not as a “look, I’m Japanese” character.

I found the book to be quite reminiscent of a Miyazaki movie (more specifically Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi: the outhouse with the Filth Spirit, the girl having to solve problems in the spirit world in order to atone for a mistake committed in the human world…), but the blend in folklore creatures and myths was less harmonious, and too often felt simply described, rather than vivid (and there’s room for vivid here: some scenes were downright scary, and could have had even more of an impact with just the right amount of storytelling). I suspect it will work much better for younger readers, and not for someone who knows more already. Also, some creatures were called by their Japanese names (tengu, kappa…), while others were in English, like the fox and the ogres; I’m not sure about the reasons behind this choice. That said, the spirits Saki meets on her journey through the sanctuary are interesting, and amusing for some (oddly enough, the tengu more than than tanuki, probably because he was so serious and driven that he ended up sounding funny–gallows humour and all that).

The messages carried through this novel were to be expected: how the modern world intrudes on the ancestral, spiritual one; how younger people are glued to technology (cell phones…) and don’t pay attention to traditions anymore; how it’s so easy to let “bad” people influence us just because we don’t feel brave enough to confront them (too bad we don’t get to see how/if Saki confronted Hana in the end!). It was a bit heavy-handed at times, but that was something I could forgive, because all in all, Saki’s progress remained enjoyable to read about: both as a journey to repair what she had rent in the spirit world, and as a journey in learning to solve problems and expand her view of the world and people in general.

Final rating: 3 to 3.5 stars.