January 2016 - The Y Logs

Yzabel / January 19, 2016

Review: Art in the Blood

Art in the Blood: A Sherlock Holmes Adventure by Bonnie MacBird

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

London. A snowy December, 1888. Sherlock Holmes, 34, is languishing and back on cocaine after a disastrous Ripper investigation. Watson can neither comfort nor rouse his friend – until a strangely encoded letter arrives from Paris.

Mlle La Victoire, a beautiful French cabaret star writes that her illegitimate son by an English lord has disappeared, and she has been attacked in the streets of Montmartre.

Racing to Paris with Watson at his side, Holmes discovers the missing child is only the tip of the iceberg of a much larger problem. The most valuable statue since the Winged Victory has been violently stolen in Marseilles, and several children from a silk mill in Lancashire have been found murdered. The clues in all three cases point to a single, untouchable man.

Will Holmes recover in time to find the missing boy and stop a rising tide of murders? To do so he must stay one step ahead of a dangerous French rival and the threatening interference of his own brother, Mycroft.

This latest adventure, in the style of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, sends the iconic duo from London to Paris and the icy wilds of Lancashire in a case which tests Watson’s friendship and the fragility and gifts of Sherlock Holmes’ own artistic nature to the limits.

Review:

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

Decent but nothing to write home about. While I found myself excited at first, because it was reminiscent of actual Sherlock Holmes adventures, I also ended up losing touch fairly easily, and not being really interested in what was happening. Perhaps because of the hints at a potential attraction toward the French artist (I don’t know… for me, Irene Adler still remains the only woman for Sherlock). Or because the mystery itself seemed to drag, and to lack the usual “punch” I expect in a Holmes & Watson adventure.

I thought Sherlock overlooked quite a few things, and made a few too many mistakes here, mistakes that didn’t ring “true” to his character. Granted, I haven’t read any of the original stories in a few years; however, I don’t remember him as endangering himself so because he miscalculated an enemy’s move, for instance. He felt and acted as less acute than his usual self here, and all in all, he wasn’t the Holmes I’m used to: making him more approachable didn’t work here, and seeing his judgment sometimes impaired by tepid emotions was… strange. He was too remote from Doyle’s Sherlock, yet didn’t bring anything original or particularly interesting to the character.

(On the other hand, Watson wasn’t introduced, nor acted, as the bumbling idiot he too often is in too many stories, which is always good in my opinion!)

The mystery itself was so-so. Not particularly interesting, a bit all over the place (France, London, art, potential love interests, kids disappearing, shifty French detective, Vidocq, a suspicious gaoler, silk trade…), beating around the bush, Mycroft’s way of getting involved and making things easier for the characters—resulting in not much investigating on their part where there should’ve been… I suppose the themes it raised, like children treated as slaves or worse, should’ve been treated more seriously, only some of this was just thrown in, especially at the end, and its impact thus lowered.

The writing itself: not terrific either. Not emulating a “Victorian” style of writing, not close to Doyle’s, too modern in parts… It didn’t do much for me. Same with the “art” part, and the way it could’ve ran parallel with investigation methods: it didn’t deliver.

1.5/2 stars. I can’t say I hated it, but I just didn’t care.

Yzabel / January 12, 2016

Review: The Talon of the Hawk

The Twelve Kingdoms: The Talon of the Hawk by Jeffe Kennedy

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Three daughters were born to High King Uorsin, in place of the son he wanted. The youngest, lovely and sweet. The middle, pretty and subtle, with an air of magic. And the eldest, the Heir. A girl grudgingly honed to leadership, not beauty, to bear the sword and honor of the king.

Ursula’s loyalty is as ingrained as her straight warrior’s spine. She protects the peace of the Twelve Kingdoms with sweat and blood, her sisters from threats far and near. And she protects her father to prove her worth. But she never imagined her loyalty would become an open question on palace grounds. That her father would receive her with a foreign witch at one side and a hireling captain at the other—that soldiers would look on her as a woman, not as a warrior. She also never expected to decide the destiny of her sisters, of her people, of the Twelve Kingdoms and the Thirteenth. Not with her father still on the throne and war in the air. But the choice is before her. And the Heir must lead…

Review:

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

This book concludes the “Twelve Kingdoms” trilogy (at least, I think it does, as I’m not aware of a fourth book being in the works). Just as Andromeda and Amelia had their novels in the series, this time Ursula gets hers, too. Ursula, the elder sister and Heir to the throne, fiercely noble and loyal, trying to do what she feels is right, upholding her rank without overstepping it. Ursula, who always did her best to protect her younger sisters from darkness that stemmed from far deeper than was led to see in the previous novels.

There was quite a dichotomy to Ursula’s character. She got to know Salena for the longest, but int turn, her death also hurt her the most. She honed her skills, her mind, her body through hard training and sheer willpower, and had to learn very quickly to navigate court politics and to handle her father, who was clearly not the kindest nor most balanced person; yet at the same time, she felt she had to let go of a lot of other things that she perceived as going against this—because deep inside, she could never physically become the son, the male heir Uorsin always wanted, and didn’t want to look “too feminine” or “weak”. She showed herself a pillar of strength, paving the way for her sisters’ freedom, while keeping herself trapped and isolated out of love for them and out of her perception of loyalty. In the end, what she had to learn wasn’t to become “stronger”, but to accept that sometimes, being strong also means allowing other people to help you.

In general, her evolution was a positive one. She made a lot of mistakes, and sometimes her determination to not change was mind-boggling; however, when she acknowledged what had gone wrong, she always tried to change it, to become better, even though it meant challenging her own world, the truth she had built for herself, a truth that could leave her to collapse if it was to disappear.

And here is where I’m not very satisfied with the story: because a lot of those changes came through Harlan. (That’s no spoiler: the romance was obvious from the beginning. Bonus for the sex scenes that weren’t as ridiculous as in the other books, because Ursula didn’t shy away from more down-to-earth vocabulary.) Now, Harlan was a very decent human being and male love interest, let it be said: a strong mercenary warrior, who liked Ursula precisely for her warrior qualities and for basically who she was, never looking to change her, to make her into someone different, or expecting her to conform to some kind of ideal. Granted, he annoyed me at first, with his habit of getting into Ursula’s personal space—I felt it was insta-love on his part, and that the falling-in-mutual-love part went too fast, as if he insinuated himself into Ursula’s life without leaving her any choice in the matter. On the other hand, once she got to spill her guts, he supported her all the way, encouraged her, showed much patience and understanding. No Uorsin was he.

However, this also carried the message that for Ursula to “get better”, to get reconciled with herself, she necessarily had to find “a man” and “a love interest”. I found it diminished the importance of her character development here, of how strong she was supposed to be, and of other forms of love: not her sisters, not Dafne, not an exceptional friendship, but a guy first and foremost. An unusual damsel in distress she was, but yet again one who needed saving by a man. Also, Harlan’s presence looked like a forced trigger, to spur her into action; without his presence, Ursula may not have developed into the person she had to become, may have remained at Ordnung all the time, or may have made her decisions much too late.

Another big problem I had was the introduction of Illyria in the story. Terin and the rebels, alright, since we already saw them in the previous books. Illyria, though, didn’t have much background nor motives to her: why did she want the Star so badly, to the point of coming to Ordnung for it? What did she really aim for? Was there more to learn about Deyrr? Was she really needed to enforce what a tyrant Uorsin was? The High King had already demonstrated previously that he could do that very well on his own… especially once the way he treated Ursula was clearly revealed.

Finally, the ending felt pretty abrupt, considering the build-up. Half the book was devoted to romance, and it didn’t leave as much room as needed to tie up both Ursula’s story and the three sisters’ arcs, not to mention the political plot around the High Throne and the Heir.

Conclusion: Good siblings dynamics; a satisfying ending, but too quickly wrapped; an additional villain that didn’t add much to the story; and a love story that, while interesting, left me wondering about the whole damsel in distress thing. 2.5 stars / “It’s OK” rating.

Yzabel / January 10, 2016

Review: Grumpy Cat Volume 1

Grumpy Cat, Volume 1 by Ben McCool

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Dynamite proudly presents the comic book misadventures of Grumpy Cat, featuring “The World’s Grumpiest Cat” and her brother, Pokey! With her ever-present pout and sassy disposition, Grumpy Cat has won the hearts of people everywhere. Now, her unbearable cuteness and infectious sourpuss are featured in an all-new, all-sensational collection of comic stories, sure to make fans of all ages laugh! If you love the memes, the videos, and that irresistible scowl, then get ready for the wildly fun antics of Grumpy Cat and Pokey!

Review:

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

Cute graphics, and the familiar expression of “Grumpy Cat” was well-rendered, but in terms of stories, this book didn’t do much for me. It was funny… but no more than that. It made me smile… but no more than that either.

The interactions between Grumpy and Pokey were of the silly kind (in a nice way): Pokey as the over-enthusiastic and a little simple-minded cat, wanting to have adventures with the neighbouring dog among others, and Grumpy being the sarcastic, deadpan-snarking sister (I never knew whether GP was a male or a female—well, it’s a female here, apparently). The whole book has a Garfield vibe, and I think this is clearly on purpose: Grumpy needs her coffee, the dog is as stupid as Odie, Garfield has Nermal while Grumpy has Pokey… also Pokey kind of sounds like Pooky, Garfield’s teddy bear. Not sure whether this is more homage or merely trying to use the success of both the GP meme and Garfield. Garfield, in any case, is much better in my opinion.

The graphics, as said above, were cute, and pretty good in general. I got an ARC “only”, so a few pages were a bit blurry and hard to read, even on my computer (full screen PDF) and not on my tabler; however, I don’t have any doubts that the paper version shall not display such defects.

Was it a good idea to translate this into comics form? I’m honestly not sure, Maybe it’ll work for some readers; as far as I’m concerned, though, I think Grumpy Cat is definitely better suited to demotivation posters and meme images in general, and doesn’t lend itself so well to anything longer (even if it’s only a few pages long).

It was a light, somewhat funny read, but one I’ll quickly forget. I’m going to look at my Grumpy Cat GIFs instead.

Yzabel / January 9, 2016

Review: Down Station

Down Station by Simon Morden

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

A small group of commuters and tube workers witness a fiery apocalypse overtaking London. They make their escape through a service tunnel. Reaching a door they step through…and find themselves on a wild shore backed by cliffs and rolling grassland. The way back is blocked. Making their way inland they meet a man dressed in a wolf’s cloak and with wolves by his side. He speaks English and has heard of a place called London – other people have arrived here down the ages – all escaping from a London that is burning. None of them have returned. Except one – who travels between the two worlds at will. The group begin a quest to find this one survivor; the one who holds the key to their return and to the safety of London.

And as they travel this world, meeting mythical and legendary creatures,split between North and South by a mighty river and bordered by The White City and The Crystal Palace they realise they are in a world defined by all the London’s there have ever been.

Reminiscent of Michael Moorcock and Julian May this is a grand and sweeping science fantasy built on the ideas, the legends, the memories of every London there has ever been.

Review:

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

A group of survivors from different areas of the city find themselves running in the Underground tunnels at night as a mysterious, overwhelming fire rages through London. When a portal opening on a mysterious sea opens, they quickly jump through it, knowing it’s the only salvation they’re going to find—that, or a painful death. Stranded in this new world, without anything to help them save for their clothes and whatever they had with them when they ran from the fire (that is to say, very little), these seven people from various backgrounds have to learn to work together and cooperate. And it sure as hell isn’t easy, especially when they start getting to know each other more.

This is how “Down Station” begins, narrated through the eyes of two characters: Mary and Dalip. Overall, the story was a little “slow” at times, but never enough as to make me skim: these slower moments allowed the author to explore the mind and growth of the main characters. Although it’s a bit too bad that the secondary ones weren’t given so much care (Stanislav was OK, but the cousins didn’t seem to do much, for instance), the various stages of self-discovery Mary and Dalip went through were really interesting to read.

Mary: orphan, foul mouth, prone to burst of angers, got in trouble with the law, was placed on probation… Basically a young woman without many means, who tends to run her mouth faster than she thinks, caught in a vicious circle: the more others see her as trash, the more she conforms to that image people have of her. Landing in the strange world of Down puts her face to face with something she hadn’t expected: freedom. The freedom to go wherever she wants, to be whoever she wants to be. And that freedom is frightening, just as it might lead her to losing herself… or not?

Dalip: engineering student from a Sikh family, loyal and honest to the point of endangering himself, always wanting to do good even though sometimes “good” could very well turn and bite him (and others) back… A noble and honorable character, who nevertheless used to live under his family’s thumb and never seemed to have an opportunity to discover who he could really be. As cruel as Down was, that world transformed him, made him become another, stronger man, while presenting him with challenges that might very well break his honest streak and turn him into a monster. The path to his freedom is not Mary’s, not his family’s, not Stanislav’s: it is his, and only his.

There is magic and mystery in that world, and rules both fairly different and fairly similar to those of ours (those who have the one sought-after currency are the ones who manage to gain power, yet the most powerful potentials aren’t necessarily those you’d expect at first). There is lies and treachery, hiding half-truths and precious information. The allies in this story were shifty, and the antagonists cruel—but as Mary so aptly summed it up, although they had no excuses, they had reasons to do what they did. Were they valid? Who knows? Perhaps Bell’s plan could have worked. And perhaps she was just crazy, and Down would never let anyone go no matter their efforts.

I wasn’t so satisfied with the ending, unfortunately, as it left quite a few doors open (is London still here, could anyone go through a portal the other way, what happened to a certain character…) without feeling like there’s going to be a sequel. However, I could be mistaken about that—I really hope there’s going to be one, addressing those points, as they’re for me a case of “you said too much or not enough” for me. (Also, the blurb currently on Goodreads is a bit misleading, as if it was the blurb for a series rather than just one book?) No matter what, I definitely enjoyed the story and the way the main characters turned out, how they gained their freedom and what they made of it.

Conclusion: Interesting concept and character development, although I found the ending a bit abrupt.

Yzabel / January 5, 2016

Review: This Monstrous Thing

This Monstrous Thing by Mackenzi Lee

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

In 1818 Geneva, men built with clockwork parts live hidden away from society, cared for only by illegal mechanics called Shadow Boys. Two years ago, Shadow Boy Alasdair Finch’s life shattered to bits.

His brother, Oliver—dead.

His sweetheart, Mary—gone.

His chance to break free of Geneva—lost.

Heart-broken and desperate, Alasdair does the unthinkable: He brings Oliver back from the dead.

But putting back together a broken life is more difficult than mending bones and adding clockwork pieces. Oliver returns more monster than man, and Alasdair’s horror further damages the already troubled relationship.

Then comes the publication of Frankenstein and the city intensifies its search for Shadow Boys, aiming to discover the real life doctor and his monster. Alasdair finds refuge with his idol, the brilliant Dr. Geisler, who may offer him a way to escape the dangerous present and his guilt-ridden past, but at a horrible price only Oliver can pay…

Review:

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

Sort of a retelling of the “Frankenstein” story, based on the idea of “what if the latter had been inspired by real-life events”. In a world where clockwork (allowing to replace missing limbs in people, among other things) is considered in some places, due to its proponents’ reputation of not being fully human, Alasdair Finch and his family have been on the run for years, ending in Geneva where they secretly practice their craft as “Shadow Boys”. Since the elder brother, Oliver, died two years ago, though, nothing has been the same. It is, obviously, no spoiler to say that Alasdair brought him back through clockwork, and now has to deal with a different Oliver, back from the dead… and no brother quite know what to do with himself or each other anymore.

The characters themselves were interesting enough, with merits and flaws, doubts and questions regarding what they had done, what they should do… Oliver: convinced he was a monster, and having to learn who he was through Alasdair, since he first had no memory of his previous life. Alasdair, torn between his loyalty towards his brother and family and his desire to study with their former mentor, Dr. Geisler. Clémence, so hardened and savvy in many ways, yet also unsure of what her place in the world was. Mary, conflicted about the choices she made and the façade she presented to the world. Even some minor characters, whose own perception of clockwork isn’t always what you’d think.

I regretted however not seeing more of their inner questioning: we get a lot from Alasdair, since he’s the first person narrator, but the others seemed to have such torment to contend with, and it was “only” seen through Ally’s eyes, therefore tinged by his own view of the world. It mirrored the original work by Shelley, but didn’t have the same impact on me. Perhaps a third person narration, with a couple of other points of view, may have worked well here, if only to also let the reader witness other happenings—the plot remained slow in terms of events/action, yet not as devoted as it could have been to fully develop the whole philosophy and conundrums behind the Shadow Boys, clockwork, people having undergone such surgery after having lost a foot or an arm, the Frankenstein society, Mary Shelley’s actions and her somewhat questionable reasons… And although the ending was left open, it was also a little flat compared to what had been at stake.

I still deem this book pleasant to read, for the atmosphere it evoked and the themes it dealt with. I only wish it would’ve delved deeper into its, all in all, fascinating ideas.

Yzabel / January 1, 2016

Review: Adulthood Is A Myth

Adulthood is a Myth: A “Sarah’s Scribbles” Collection by Sarah Andersen

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Are you a special snowflake? Do you love networking to advance your career? Have you never wasted a fresh new day surfing the internet? Ugh. This book is not for you. Please go away.

Sarah’s Scribbles — casually drawn, perfectly on-point comics by young Brooklyn-based artist Sarah Andersen — confront head-on the horrors, anxiety, and awkwardness of modern adult life. From the agony of holding hands with a gorgeous guy to the yawning pit of hell that is the wifi gone down to the eye-watering pain of eating too-hot pizza because one cannot stand to wait for it to cool down, Sarah fearlessly documents it all.

Like the work of fellow Millennial authors Allie Brosh, Grace Helbig, and Gemma Correll, Sarah’s total frankness on extremely personal issues such as body image, self-consciousness, introversion, relationships, and bra-washing makes her comics highly relatable and consistently hilarious.

Review:

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

A very light, fluffy and enjoyable little book, and at the same time, one that also makes you think and ponder about what is supposed to define us as “adults”… versus what adulthood really means. Because in my opinion, it does have a lot of meanings, and one of those is “being old and knowing what you’re doing aren’t the same thing.”

The panels often dealt with situations that made me laugh, because they rang all so true. Sniffing books. Procrastination. Staying up late for no reason. People asking you about when you’re finally having kids. Why it’s so hard to go out early in the heart of winter. Doing things that suck because we have to. Finding ourselves in embarassing company. And so on.

And it was spot on, as far as I was concerned, and made me think after I was done laughing, because, really, even at 36+, I’m still not sure what “being an adult” is. I pay my bills and my rent on time, I perform pretty well in my job, I don’t cause harm to myself or others through engaging in dangerous behaviours. I can safely say I’m “responsible”. Yet I’ve more than once been with people who still said that I wasn’t a real adult/a real woman because I didn’t want kids. That I should “grow out of video games”. Sometimes, peer pressure will make you question your choices, and the “stories” in this book often pinpoint those very situations leading to those questions, while underlining in turn another question: “But do we HAVE to change? Should we? If we remain the way we are, and we’re happy enough like that, why should we give in and conform to a certain idea of ‘adulthood’?” Does anyone hold the truth, the exact truth, the one definition here? Is there even one?

So yeah, I found myself in many of these comic strips. Whether this makes me an “adult” or not… Frankly, at this point, I just don’t care. Still, as I said, it reminded me of quite a few encounters and conversations I had. Also, I’m positive that no matter what, I’ll never have all the answers, and I’ll keep wondering if it’s normal, if I shouldn’t know 100% what I’m supposed to be doing right now. And… it’s alright. We’re all different, after all.

The drawing style itself was very simple, and not entirely to my taste; however, it worked well for that kind of comic-strips and for the artist to exaggerate facial expressions and other positions. Now, I wasn’t looking for the next masterpiece that would eclipse Renaissance painters, so I didn’t care much, to be honest. Simplicity probably works best when it comes to humour here.

On the downside, you can likely find all this on the artist’s website and the book is a bit redundant. This said… I don’t care either!