Books Archives - Page 47 of 71

Yzabel / September 8, 2014

Review: Flesh Failure

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.

Yzabel / August 31, 2014

Review: Ash and the Army of Darkness

Ash and the Army of Darkness by Steve Niles

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

The battle has been fought and won. Ash battled and defeated the Deadite image of himself and saved the world. Now all he wants to do is get home and have a normal life. Too bad he messed up the Book of the Dead incantation. Will Ash ever escape the land of the Deadites? Will he ever find his girl? Will he ever remember the last part of the incantation? Now an army of unbelievable horrors rules the land and only Ash can annoy them!

Review:

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

This volume collects issues 1 to 8 of the comics, which pick up right after where the Army of Darkness movie left off—at least, if memory serves right. Ash is pulled back in 1300 to face more Deadites and a renewed threat, this time because the one he left the Book of the Dead with might not have been the best choice. (Not that anyone would have been a best choice: it seems the book has a will of its own.)

I found the book somewhat close to what I remember of the movies—Ash being both badass and somewhat stupid at times (the Faceless Man part is quite a good example of that, and I can say I wanted to facepalm just as much as the other character involved). However, I regularly felt that more could have happened, and that the plot didn’t move that fast, although the action scenes were drawn in a fairly dynamic way. The PDF copy I got had very clear lettering; on the other hand, some panels appeared a little bit blurry, and I don’t know if this is on purpose, or just a scanning problem due to this being an ARC. As for Ash, sometimes he really looked like the one from the movies, but not always; that was disconcerting.

An OK read for me, though a somewhat forgettable one. I’m not sure I’d pick the next volume.

Yzabel / August 30, 2014

Review: Les Misérables (manga)

Manga Classics: Les Miserables by Stacy King

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Adapted for stage and screen, loved by millions, Victor Hugo’s classic novel of love and tragedy during the French Revolution is reborn in this manga edition.

Review:

(I got an ARC of this manga through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

Though I’m a native speaker and have studied a lot of French classics during my high school and university days, I must admit, and not without shame, that I’ve never read Les Misérables—not the full version, that is. I only ever laid my hands on parts of it many, many years ago, mostly Cosette’s early life story, as well as Gavroche’s, and those were adapted for younger readers. In other words, I can’t pass judgement on this manga adaptation’s faithfulness regarding Victor Hugo’s original work. However, I can tell that it should at least make a lot of readers want to pick the actual book, and get to know the characters and the missing side stories better. It sure made me.

Because some side stories are missing, and the script writer’s bit at the end of the manga confirmed this. I do remember, for instance, that there was a part about Fantine’s lover/Cosette’s real father, and why they were separated. The same way, Gavroche’s story was shortened. There just weren’t enough pages available in manga format to properly put those in. Now, considering the original stories’ complexity, I still think the adaptation was well-done and interesting. The essential story lines remain, and all tie together as they should.

The drawings, too, seem to reflect the characters fairly well. Negative characters such as the Thénardiers are easily recognisable to their features. Cosette is cute, as she should be. Fantine’s drop from a beautiful woman to a destitute one is clearly shown as well. And the more ambiguous ones, such as Javert and Valjean himself, appear with serious features that allow the illustrator to depict their emotions, especially when they go through rethinking their purposes in life. Overall, the illustrations were really pleasant and fitting.

As an adaptation, it might seem a little light in places to someone who already knows the whole work. On the other hand, someone discovering it, or only knowing part of it, would likely be drawn (no pun intended) to pick Hugo’s books later on. It’s a pretty good thing in my opinion.

(Beware, though, of the ebook format—which is the one I got, as an ARC: the PDF reflects the order of the printed pages, which means you have to go to the end of the manga first, and then scroll your way back to the “beginning”. I’m used to doing this, so it didn’t matter much to me, but it can be surprising and annoying at first.)

Yzabel / August 29, 2014

Review: Return to London

Return to London by Terence Jenkins

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Full of entertaining bite-size chunks of London’s history, this book tells tales that will inspire you to explore a place you thought you knew.

In this historical handbook, author, journalist and London guide Terence Jenkins hopes that the tales of England’s capital city will inspire readers to explore this unique part of our country. It is a place rich in history and known for its extensive culture. Following the success of Another Man’s London, he gives us an idiosyncratic look in bite-sized chunks of London’s exciting history that are fascinating and easy to read.

Amongst other characters you will meet Bulbous Betty and the Black Prince who had a surprising effect on the course of London’s history. Discover why 100 shrouds were requested and what really happened to that polar bear in Piccadilly… Find out who was exiled in SE19, and what was all the fuss about a fig leaf?

The book was written to follow Jenkins’ trilogy of London books, Another Man’s London, London Lives and London Tales, and also as a return to the city following his explorative book Further Afield. Not just an entertaining read but also an educational pocket guide, Return to London covers some of the unique facts about London’s history that have largely remained unknown.

Review:

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

3.5 stars. A fast and interesting read, with plenty of little details and usually unknown facts about quite a few places in London. As someone who’s visited this city a couple of times only, but likes learning about it, and is always looking for a “quirkier” kind of tourism than the basic monuments and museums, this is definitely going to be useful at some point. Another good thing here is the author’s tone, who clearly loves this city, as well, and it shows (in a positive way, that is).

The book might not hold as much appeal to a reader who’s never foot in London, though, because it rests on unspoken previous spoken knowledge of the various districts: some details can only be fully understood when you know a bit about this or that borough, how it came to be, and so on. I wouldn’t recommend it as a “London 101” introduction book.

Also, I would’ve liked a few more pictures. There’s usually one per chapter, while said chapters deal with so many more places than just a couple. (Granted, I read it on the Kindle app on my small-screen Smartphone; not the smartest move ever—no pun intended.)

Pick this one if you’re planning a trip to London, want to discover more about its history, and are interested in seeing less travelled places there.

Yzabel / August 25, 2014

Review: The Anatomy of Dreams

The Anatomy of Dreams: A Novel by Chloe Benjamin

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

It’s 1998, and Sylvie Patterson, a bookish student at a Northern California boarding school, falls in love with a spirited, elusive classmate named Gabe. Their headmaster, Dr. Adrian Keller, is a charismatic medical researcher who has staked his career on the therapeutic potential of lucid dreaming: By teaching his patients to become conscious during sleep, he helps them to relieve stress and heal from trauma. Over the next six years, Sylvie and Gabe become consumed by Keller’s work, following him from the redwood forests of Eureka, California, to the enchanting New England coast.

But when an opportunity brings the trio to the Midwest, Sylvie and Gabe stumble into a tangled relationship with their mysterious neighbors—and Sylvie begins to doubt the ethics of Keller’s research, recognizing the harm that can be wrought under the guise of progress. As she navigates the hazy, permeable boundaries between what is real and what isn’t, who can be trusted and who cannot, Sylvie also faces surprising developments in herself: an unexpected infatuation, growing paranoia, and a new sense of rebellion.

In stirring, elegant prose, Benjamin’s tale exposes the slippery nature of trust—and the immense power of our dreams.

Review:

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

2.5 stars because I liked the concepts in this book, but found the execution wanting.

The story bounces between a few time periods, allowing us to see what’s happening in two “levels of present” (the first one being Madison, where Sylvie and Gave meet Janna and Thom) and two “levels of past” (high school time, then the beginning of Sylvie’s involvement in Keller’s research). I’m mentioning this because it can be a potential deterrent to some readers. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a kind of narrative style I tend to enjoy, and since I had no problems following it and piecing things together, I’m putting it in my “I like it” category. There was just one part, though, towards the last third, where I felt that it wasn’t handled that well. Too bad.

My feelings when it comes to the characters remain lukewarm. The story’s entirely told from Sylvie’s point of view, but in the end, I’m not sure I got to “know” her. Same with Gabe and Keller, perhaps even worse. They all seemed to be here for the plot, and not as full-fledged people. Granted, their research consumed a lot of their life during the course of the novel, yet I think I would’ve felt Sylvie’s plight much more if I could have related to her as to a “real” person (no need for she and I to have anything in common: just more character development in general). There’s her painting, but what about Gabe’s occupations? Was there only work here? What about Janna, who was definitely in a good position to notice what was going on? There would have been more to tell about them all, and the lack of such information, in the end, diminished in my opinion the ethical questions surrounding Keller’s research, as well as the degree to which each of them was influenced by the experiments.

To be honest, I was probably waiting for something different, something more linked to the theme of lucid dreaming: Sylvie really not knowing what was real and what wasn’t, for instance, or other people displaying such characteristics. The blurb was in fact more exciting than the story itself, all the more because I’m always eager to read anything that has to do with dreams, nightmares, and blurred reality boundaries. The story showed one patient being submitted to the experiment, and spoke of another one whose actions might or might not have been a direct result of Keller’s study. There was a lot of potential here for dilemmas of various kinds; however, the characters often danced around the issues, only confronted them now and then, and I found this slightly frustrating.

On the plus side, the writing style itself was pleasant enough, beautiful while remaining believable for a first person point of view narrative.

Yzabel / August 24, 2014

Review: Darkness

Darkness by Erin Eveland

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

One Girl. One Boy. And the Masters of Darkness. See the Shadow Creatures. They are everywhere. But you can’t run from the shadows or the Masters who control them.

Catherine has been born with a supernatural power called Darkness. The Masters of Darkness have found her and it’s just a matter of time before someone claims her.

An Interactive Novel
A QR Code starts the beginning of each chapter connecting the reader to specific art or music that ties into the mood and setting of the novel. Using the quick response code in print and eBook formatting, Darkness incorporates visual and sound to heighten the reading experience.

Review:

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

Try as I might, I couldn’t get into this novel, in spite of a theme that seemed appealing to me. Although I liked the idea of “interactive” parts (codes/links leading to songs, videos, pictures.. that had artistic value regarding the various chapters).

I think the main reasons to this are that:

1) I couldn’t connect with the characters at all. Perhaps because I’m not currently in the mood for Bleak Life Is Bleak worlds, where nothing the people do seem to be able to get them out of their misery? Catherine had a strong streak, but in spite of that, I found her extremely passive, basically waiting on a guy that wouldn’t look at her so often, just because they had been friends for a couple of years before that. This, in itself, was partly understandable (wanting to escape a horrible life with someone you love), except that he didn’t show any inclination to do so, she never tried to prod and see how he was feeling about it, and so it looked less like hope than unfounded infatuation.

2) The romance between Nathan and Catherine: no chemistry to speak of. Again, with more action and less wishful-thinking-in-my-little-corner on their part, it could have worked.

3) The whole Darkness/Light conflict and mythology was confusing. It made more sense when Jorgen explained it, but this comes rather late in the story. In the end, I’m still not sure if Catherine is Darkness or Light or a mix of both, nor what exactly Artros wanted of her.

4) The story lacked editing. A few typos here and there, I can live with. However, the story had a tendency to go into rambling, about the thoughts of this or that character, as if at some point, several versions of those thoughts had been written, then left all together because choosing one turned too hard to do. It slowed down the pace and caused me to start skimming after a while.

5) Nothing much happens before the 65-68% mark. The characters are unhappy, then unhappy again, then something makes them more unhappy… And I just can’t believe that after Kathy’s episode with the hospital, no social worker pulled Cathering out of there. I know the CPS don’t have the most brilliant reputation, but that was stretching it. (And why didn’t Catherine do anything on her own, anyway? It’s not like she was staying with her mother out of love and respect, her basic needs weren’t even met, and frankly, considering her place and living style, going to some orphanage for two years might not even have been the worst option here.)

On the good side, the idea of Darkness as a power, of controlling Shadow Creatures, was interesting. Just not used here in a way that would have made me like this story.

1.5 stars.

Yzabel / August 22, 2014

Review: The Wonder of All Things

The Wonder of All Things by Jason Mott

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

On an ordinary day, at an air show like that in any small town across the country, a plane crashes into a crowd of spectators, killing and injuring dozens. But when the dust clears, a thirteen-year-old girl named Ava is found huddled beneath a pocket of rubble with her best friend, Wash. He is injured and bleeding, and when Ava places her hands over him, his wounds miraculously disappear. 

Ava has a unique gift: she can heal others of their physical ailments. Until the air show tragedy, her gift was a secret. But now the whole world knows, and suddenly Ava is thrust into the spotlight. People from all over the globe begin flocking to her small town, looking for healing and eager to glimpse the wonder of a miracle. But Ava’s unusual ability comes at a great costher own healthand as she grows weaker with each healing, Ava begins searching for an escape. Wash agrees to help Ava, but little does she know he has his own secret he’s been harboring, and soon Ava finds herself having to decide just how much she’s willing to sacrifice in order to save the one she loves most.

Review:

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

A novel that raised interesting questions, but that in the end failed to deliver some answers. I don’t mean THE answers, because I don’t think there’s any definite one. It’s more a feeling on my part that it didn’t go as far as its premise could (and should) have taken it.

The story deals with Ava, a thireteen-year-old girl who suddenly reveals a healing power. Unfortunately, this power comes with a price, and the more she uses it, the more her own health suffers. However, as news the event that revealed her existence spreads throughout the country, she and her family are confronted with the many opinions of many people about what she should do with her newfound ability… and those opinions are quite revealing of what drives human beings.

Ava’s father, her stepmother, other people around her, are all tempted, at some point, to ask her to perform some healing, each for their own motives. Macon (her father) because he’s at a loss, seeing his only daughter wither, and trying to find a way to put an end to it, even though this might mean pushing her through more healing at first. Carmen (her stepmother) because there’s a baby on the way, and who knows what might go wrong? In a way, they’re somewhat justified in their “demands”, and one may wonder: are they selfish? Or are they only being people, with their own temporary weakness when confronted to something so awe-inspiring? At the same time, other people, such as Wash’s grandmother, don’t demand anything at all—and those who don’t demand anything aren’t always those who’re the less in need.

I think The Wonder of All Things makes us question those hypothetical motives in ourselves as well. If someone with such a healing power was to appear, would we be entitled to demand they heal just about anyone, regardless of the cost to their own health? Would we deem them “selfish” if they were to keep their ability for their loved ones only, knowing that doing more would kill them? Would such a person have a “responsibility” to everyone, should s/he be expected to sacrifice his/her own future? Some may say yes, some may say no, some may not know. I don’t know. Part of me would likely want such a power to be used; yet another part kept revolting, thinking, “Guys, this is Ava’s life. You have no right to tell her what to do with it.”

This is where, in my opinion, the novel could have gone further, and didn’t. For instance, we know early on that news about Ava spread through the internet, but not once do the main characters try to use the same media to tell the world the truth about her ability: that it’s hurting her. Not once do they force other people to face their own demands, if only by simply asking: “You want me to heal your child/father/spouse, but considering I can’t heal a lot of people, tell me, why should I choose him/her over someone else? Tell me. Give me a reason that isn’t a selfish one, you who’re calling me ‘selfish’.” (This is definitely something I was expecting some character, any character, to do at some point.) In a way, they may have been too passive about this, maybe expecting things to calm down on their own—wishful thinking, that.

On the other hand, there was also a lot of beauty in this story, in how Ava and Carmen had the opportunity to find an unexpected common ground in a situation that could just have well have divided them even more. And the parts where Ava remembered her own mother were touching.

I liked this story, I did. I just wanted the characters to be more on the confrontational side, regarding other people around them.

Yzabel / August 20, 2014

Review: The Fault in Our Stars

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

Despite the tumor-shrinking medical miracle that has bought her a few years, Hazel has never been anything but terminal, her final chapter inscribed upon diagnosis. But when a gorgeous plot twist named Augustus Waters suddenly appears at Cancer Kid Support Group, Hazel’s story is about to be completely rewritten.

Review:

I’m not at ease with cancer stories. That illness itself makes me shudder; I might go as far as to say I’m even mildly phobic about it. But I still wanted to check this book, after reading so many good reviews about it, and after I was told that it wasn’t so much about vivid descriptions of cancer itself. So, when it popped up at the library near my parents’ home, I seized the opportunity.

Well, I might be a horrible, callous person, because I just don’t get the whole tear-inducing, heart-wrenching hype around this novel. Or maybe whatever passes for a heart in my chest cavity was too busy rolling its metaphorical eyes at all the pompousness, which for me totally ruined the story. It made me wonder if a thesaurus was harmed, raped and defaced in the process. When using Big Words, the least one can do is to us Big Words That Actually Mean What They’re Supposed To Mean. (Definition of hamartia: the error in judgement that causes the hero to achieve the opposite of what s/he meant, leading to the actual tragedy. Not just any character flaw.) This is not how I, of all people, could be touched, not when I’m too busy wondering who the hell talks like that.

Hazel struck me as pretentious, and incredibly judgemental when it came to a lot of people around her. Gallows humour I could definitely take, understand, and appreciate—but this wasn’t humour. This was just demeaning. The way she spoke of the support group and of Patrick, as if his life had no value? Disgusting:

“…the relief that he escaped lo those many years ago when cancer took both of his nuts but spared what only the most generous soul would call his life.”

I sure couldn’t empathise with her attitude towards her parents at times (how dare they show feelings and cry; or wake her up at 5:30 in the morning to prepare and board the plane to go to Amsterdam; or send her to support group, instead of allowing her to basically be already dead in
her everyday life). Even her attitude towards her teachers, when she attended morning classes.

And the “metaphors”. That whole thing with the eggs and breakfast foods and me going “can we get to some actual point, and not some stupid rambling about a topic that I wouldn’t even tackle if I were completely wasted?” Or the hurdles:

“And I wondered if hurdlers ever thought, you know, This would go faster if we just got rid of the hurdles.”

That’s not philosophical. That’s idiotic.

The love-at-first-sight trope seldom works for me, and it didn’t work here either. It turned the narrative into something rather cheesy, especially with all the pompous dialogues. (Seriously, I’ve met my share of university teachers and educated people in general… and we just don’t talk like that, certainly not without preparing our speeches first. So teenagers, no matter how smart? Sorry, I just can’t believe it.)

Somehow, it reminded me of some of the stuff I wrote when I was 15-16, and found recently at the bottom of a cardboard box. I remembered those “pieces” as witty, smart, full of deep meaning. I remembered writing them with such goals in mind. I was good at writing, too; I always had top grades in French and Literature classes. Then I read those again—now, that is, 20 years later—and I realised how full of myself I was at the time, and how my Big Words And Sentences were in fact just so shallow. The characters here, and their way of talking and being, left me with the same feeling. They never seemed to leave the surface level. Now that I’m done with the book, I still don’t know what Hazel likes (apart from An Imperial Affliction and her favourite TV show), what else she used to do before being diagnosed, and so on. She’s defined by 1) her illness (though said illness looked kind of like a ploy to elicit emotion, rather than anything else) and 2) Augustus, and… What else? I have no idea.

I think it could’ve been a great story… only without its pretentiousness, without its flat characters, and without its tendency to take the reader by the hand to put his/her nose into the supposed deep meaning hidden within the pages. When you feel like a novel is trying to manipulate you, is when suspension of disbelief shatters.

Yzabel / August 19, 2014

Review: Engines of War

Doctor Who: Engines of War by George Mann

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

“The death of billions is as nothing to us Doctor, if it helps defeat the Daleks.”

The Great Time War has raged for centuries, ravaging the universe. Scores of human colony planets are now overrun by Dalek occupation forces. A weary, angry Doctor leads a flotilla of Battle TARDISes against the Dalek stronghold but in the midst of the carnage, the Doctor’s TARDIS crashes to a planet below: Moldox.

As the Doctor is trapped in an apocalyptic landscape, Dalek patrols roam amongst the wreckage, rounding up the remaining civilians. But why haven’t the Daleks simply killed the humans?

Searching for answers the Doctor meets ‘Cinder’, a young Dalek hunter. Their struggles to discover the Dalek plan take them from the ruins of Moldox to the halls of Gallifrey, and set in motion a chain of events that will change everything. And everyone.

An epic novel of the Great Time War featuring the War Doctor as played by John Hurt.

Review:

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

I very seldom read “fan” books—i.e. featuring characters from TV shows/movies. I think the last one I read was an X-Files novel, some 20 years ago, and not even its original edition/language. So keep in mind I may not be the best person to judge such stories, and try to consider them from my point of view as a reader in general.

Also, it doesn’t help that I’ve only seen one season of Doctor Who. I love the series, but never managed to go further, because of reasons. Shame on me. Whatever. I was spoiled about a few things, and not spoiled about many others. However, I can at least give an opinion about that, and I’m happy to report that the present novel isn’t of the crumbling-under-spoilers kind. If, like me, you’ve only seen the first season, or not many more episodes, then you already know that there was a Time War; that the Doctor is a Time Lord, and that they do regenerate upon death; that he had an important role to play during said war; and that the Daleks are, well, the Daleks.

You don’t need to know more to read and enjoy Engines of War, and it won’t spoil the whole series for you either. Which you may consider either a good thing (like I did), or a bad thing (if you’re a seasoned Whovian who wants a lot more). Although I admit I didn’t catch a few references to events that happened in episodes I didn’t see, I don’t think it’s really a problem. This lack of background is specific to me anyway, and the story functions well even if you don’t know anything about those events.

Here, the Doctor meets a new companion, Cinder (or, rather, Cinder does meet the Doctor), a young woman from Moldox. Her planet and surrounding solar system was attacked and ravaged by the Daleks, and she’s been part of a doomed-to-fail resistance movement since childhood. When their paths cross, she jumps on the opportunity to leave this dying world, but soon comes to realise that it’s not so easy as to just go away and find another place, because the latest Dalek-made weapon is one that would totally change the fate of universe, both in space and time, if it were to be deployed.

This book reads fairly easily, and much like an episode from the series. I wasn’t always completely happy with the writing, which was sometimes a bit too “tell-not-show” to my liking, but such occurrences were actually quite sparse. There are plot hooks and cool concepts (the possibility engine, the time-wiping weapon), there are twists, we meet with a Doctor who’s more jaded and hardened than the one I got to know (the Ninth one), yet still displays a lot of the “Doctor-isms” I liked on TV. The author managed to make scenes very easy to visualise, including the TARDIS’s and other sounds—not so easy to do without falling into the realm of ridicule. The Time Lords are shown as just as fearsome as the Daleks, in their own ways. And Cinder is a resourceful companion for the Doctor, not just some girl tagging along. She has a reason to leave, a reason to fight, has picked useful fights along the way, and her humanity is an important anchor for the Doctor, one that deeply contrasts with Rassilon’s cold, distanciated views.

This wasn’t the best novel ever, but it sure was worth the few hours it took for me to read it.
3.5 stars.