The Y Logs

Yzabel / September 27, 2016

Review: The Screaming Staircase

The Screaming Staircase by Jonathan Stroud

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

When the dead come back to haunt the living, Lockwood & Co. step in . . .

For more than fifty years, the country has been affected by a horrifying epidemic of ghosts. A number of Psychic Investigations Agencies have sprung up to destroy the dangerous apparitions.

Lucy Carlyle, a talented young agent, arrives in London hoping for a notable career. Instead she finds herself joining the smallest, most ramshackle agency in the city, run by the charismatic Anthony Lockwood. When one of their cases goes horribly wrong, Lockwood & Co. have one last chance of redemption. Unfortunately this involves spending the night in one of the most haunted houses in England, and trying to escape alive.

Review:

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

An entertaining book, even though it didn’t blow my mind as I would’ve expected from the author of the “Bartimaeus” series.

In a United Kingdom where the dead tend to come back fairly often as ghosts—whose touch is lethal to the living—agencies have sprung up. Gathering all kinds of young people with the ability to see or hear spectres, under the supervision of adults, these groups patrol cities at nights and investigate various hauntings, in order to send ghosts back to the grave. Lockwood & Co. is one of such agencies. And so, when young agent Lucy Carlyle finds herself looking for employment in London, she applies for a job there… an unusual one even for her line of work, since Lockwood’s doesn’t have any supervisor, and his two other youth are a little on the reckless side. Well, especially Lockwood himself.

This trio of characters follows a typical dynamic (2 boys, 1 girl), with banter and sometimes tense relationships. Lockwood tends to act before thinking, and appears as too easy-go-lucky at times; George is the librarian, the one who remembers they should do their research before investigating; and Lucy, the only one of the three with the ability to hear ghosts and potentially communicate with them, is somewhere in between: more thoughtful at first, yet possessed with instincts that sometimes cause her to make strange decisions. All in all, this dynamic highlighted potential flaws in the team (Lucy didn’t tell them immediately why she went to London, Lockwood doesn’t talk of his family or why there are no adults supervising his agency…) as well as room for growth (learning to trust each other, among other things).

The descriptions of ghosts, places and hauntings are vivid enough, and it’s very easy to picture every happening. They convey an idea of a darker London, whose mists may not only be mere pollution or weather-related, but also announce the coming of ghosts. The story as a whole, a bit like in the Bartimaeus series, has a semi-Victorian feeling: the time is now, yet readers may find themselves forgetting this since the era itself isn’t so important (and the use of rapiers and iron filings could go well in a historical setting). This may or may not be a problem; personally, I quite liked it. The atmosphere throughout the novel, though, wasn’t exactly horrific for me; I’m not sure if I could consider it the right amount of “scary” for a ghost story presented as such.

On the downside:

– The plot felt too disjointed when it came to its two main parts. I’m not sure why exactly, nor what could have made it better, but I got this feeling that the cause-and-effect relationships were forced together, instead of one appearing as logically following the other.
– I could have done without the fat-shaming (towards George). I don’t know if this was supposed to make Lockwood (tall and thin) look better, or Lucy appear superior, but it achieved neither. I really don’t see any point to that.
– I mentioned the characters’ dynamics and room for growth, however by the end of the book I thought this was lacking a bit, and the team didn’t feel like a team as much as I had expected after all the “surviving together” (the fire, the burglary, the Red Room…). The relationship between Lucy, George and Lockwood remained a wee bit… flat?

Conclusion: 2.5 stars. I enjoyed it on the surface, as light reading, but I’m not particularly eager to pick up the second book either.

Yzabel / September 26, 2016

Review: Golem

Golem by Lorenzo Ceccotti

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Set in a future, post-Eurozone Italy, entrenched in a bizarre form of hyper-capitalism, GOLEM follows a young boy kidnapped during a political protest gone sour, who learns that he has the power to not only change the city, but reality itself. This intensely imaginative political-sci-fi graphic novel is a visual tour de force, created by contemporary design icon Lorenzo Ceccotti, better known as LRNZ, whose design-influenced illustration is a lush, fluid blend of manga masters like KATSUHIRO OTOMO with western comic icons like JOSH MIDDLETON, creating a style that is wholly unique and absolutely breathtaking.

Review:

[I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Some pretty good artwork in places, although I expected something more original, especially considering the length of this volume.

The basic idea in itself is, I’d say, typical enough of dystopian stories: country (here, Italy) in the not-too-far future, dominated by an apparent benevolent ruler (president Oudeis) who’s actually a tyrant, with “the masses” living day to day in blissful ignorance, smothered with all the latest technological toys and gizmos they could desire. Also a “terrorist”/”freedom fighters” group, because dystopian stories need that. All in all, terra cognita here, not bad, and not exceptional either.

The world depicted in this comics is interesting, and chilling, too, however it gave a strong Japanese vibe, and this felt a little strange. Lots of Japanese-sounding names (the Yoko brand, the Shorai “terrorist group”), aesthetics that clearly reminded me of quite a few cyberpunk/futuristic manga… Again, not bad per se, yet I couldn’t reconcile this vision with Italy. Not to say I expected stupid clichés here (nope, I didn’t want to see pasta everywhere, that’s just as bad as the French baguette as far as clichés go!), just… something that would’ve felt more European-centric?

The art was pretty good in some parts, though average in others, and most often dynamic: the fights looked and felt like fights, bodies in movement giving an impression of speed. As a work of art, as in painting/drawing, it was definitely interesting to look at.

The characters in general were sympathetic. Not unexpectedly at all, the rebels all have their quirks and cool tech and moves (cooking, hooked on computers, a sort of probabilities-projecting technology allowing them to predict their enemies’ moves by a couple of seconds…). However, I never got a real feeling for them, especially the two kids at the centre of it all.

Conclusion: In general, my impression was that of a story with good foundations, but not told as it would’ve deserved—both too long and too crammed considering its conspiracy aspect. The bland characters didn’t help.

Yzabel / September 23, 2016

Review: Gaslight & Grimm – Steampunk Faerie Tales

Gaslight & Grimm: Steampunk Faerie Tales by Danielle Ackley-McPhail

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Once Upon a Time, ageless tales were told from one generation to the next, filled with both wonders and warnings. Tales of handsome princes and wicked queens, of good-hearted folk and evil stepmothers. Tales of danger and caution and magic…classics that still echo in our hearts and memories even to this day, told from old, cherished books or from memory at Grandma’s knee.

Oh yes, tales have been told…but never quite like these. Journey with us through the pages of Gaslight and Grimm to discover timeless truths through lenses polished in the age of steam.

With tales by James Chambers, Christine Norris, Bernie Mojzes, Danny Birt, Jean Marie Ward, Jeff Young, Gail Z. and Larry N. Martin, Elaine Corvidae, David Lee Summers, Kelly A. Harmon, Jonah Knight, Diana Bastine, and Jody Lynn Nye.

Review:

[I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

I found this anthology quite inspiring in general, and it left me with a better impression than anthologies generally do. I appreciated that most stories, while building upon the foundations of original tales, didn’t hesitate to stray from them at some point, instead of being “mere” retellings almost identical to their inspirations. For instance, the one inspired by “Rapunzel”.

The ones I liked best:
– “When Pigs Fly” (original story: The Three Little Pigs): airship and their badass captains, on a backdrop of Alliance vs. Rogues conflict. I was bound to like this one.
– “From the Horse’s Mouth” (The Goose Girl): a gritty retelling, that doesn’t shy away from the grim realities of a country at war.
– “The Giant Killer” (Jack the Giant Killer): with Jack being more of a Jane, with interesting devices and a tendency to get into trouble… but always with a certain style.

Remarks on a couple of other stories:
– “The (Steamy) Tale of Cinderella (Cinderella, obviously): set in a fleet gathered around the princely ship, where the fated ball is to be held. But the Prince isn’t just some charming vapid man, Cinderella is more interested in machines than in snagging a man, and there’s a nice LGBT dimension. I do regret, though, that the latter was presented a little abruptly, out of nowhere—there could have been so much more, instead of the (at first) traditional approach of shaming same-sex relationships. Fortunately Cinderella’s and the Prince’s decision is an interesting one.

– “The Hair Ladder”: I liked the different relationship dynamis between “Rapunzel” and “the witch”. I wasn’t convinced by the mother, however, as she was much too selfish and vain, and felt like a cardboard villain.

But overall, these stories were more 3 to 4 stars each than anything really bad. “The Walking House” (Baba Yaga) is probably my least favourite.

Yzabel / September 21, 2016

Review: A City Dreaming

A City Dreaming by Daniel Polansky

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

M is an ageless drifter with a sharp tongue, few scruples, and the ability to bend reality to his will, ever so slightly. He’s come back to New York City after a long absence, and though he’d much rather spend his days drinking artisanal beer in his favorite local bar, his old friends—and his enemies—have other plans for him. One night M might find himself squaring off against the pirates who cruise the Gowanus Canal; another night sees him at a fashionable uptown charity auction where the waitstaff are all zombies. A subway ride through the inner circles of hell? In M’s world, that’s practically a pleasant diversion.

Before too long, M realizes he’s landed in the middle of a power struggle between Celise, the elegant White Queen of Manhattan, and Abilene, Brooklyn’s hip, free-spirited Red Queen, a rivalry that threatens to make New York go the way of Atlantis. To stop it, M will have to call in every favor, waste every charm, and blow every spell he’s ever acquired—he might even have to get out of bed before noon.

Enter a world of Wall Street wolves, slumming scenesters, desperate artists, drug-induced divinities, pocket steampunk universes, and demonic coffee shops. M’s New York, the infinite nexus of the universe, really is a city that never sleeps—but is always dreaming.

Review:

[I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Quite a strange book, in that it didn’t exactly have a plot, more of a collection of “slice of life” moments. Well, moment in the life of a being able to bend reality to his will, or almost, surrounding himself, whether he wants it or not, with other exceptional beings.

After years, decades of wandering around, M is back in New York, where he gets reacquainted with old friends and enemies (not mutually exclusive), gets entangled in the local magic politics, finds himself facing strange worlds and creatures at times, all the while trying to remain “in good terms with the Management”—in other words, balancing feats of magic just right enough to live nicely, without getting much of backlash. And let’s be honest, M’s friends are often worse than his foes, considering the dire straits they take him into.

The New York M evolves in is definitely strange and enchanting in its own ways, mixing daily mundane places and events with happenings out of this world. Immortal mages trying to kill each others, the two Queens of New York trying to get the upper hand each int their own sly ways, revenge and curses, magical underground trains, apprentices coming out of nowhere, traders playing at human sacrifice… There are so, so many odd things in that city, in M’s world in general.

The major problem I see with this novel is the fact it’s a collection of mini-adventures, connected by a loose red thread much more than by any kind of solid plot. M meets some old friend who drags him on a crappy errand, or has to go and trick pirates to free another friend who got kidnapped, or finds himself in an alternate world whose rules may very well trample his own perception of reality… and so on. The blurb was misleading, in that its wording led me to believe there would be more of a plot (there’s no real war between the Queens, for instance, and some of the stories felt repetitive). Instead, the connectors are people and places rather than events leading to other events, and not in the way of a more traditional narrative. Which is an interesting thing or not, depending on how you perceive it.

While I wasn’t too convinced at first, in the end, this technique nevertheless offered glimpses into a magical world, and I found myself wanting to see which new adventure would unfold in every new chapter—not to mention that whenever connectors met, they still gave a sense of things tying together, but just a little, just enough, not as a series of convenient coincidences. (Because -that- can also be a problem, when a plot is too well packed and loose ends are too nicely tied.)

These stories also provide an interesting view on modern life: night scenes, drug addiction, poverty (so many people around you, who won’t see you as you’re being dragged down…), making and losing friends, art and pleasure, unpleasant acquaintances, wealthy lifestyle vs. a more subdued kind of existence, choices to make in the face of adversity, responsibilities, humanity… There’s a strong current of life to this New Work, carrying its people just as much as its people carry it, and the author pictures it funny, dark and loving tones all at once.

Conclusion: I can’t say I absolutely loved this book, however it contains a lot of imaginative elements, and the New York, the City with a capital C described in it, was such a vivid backdrop that it may just as well be called a character as well. 3.5 stars, going on 4.

Yzabel / September 18, 2016

Review: Nine Candles of Deepest Black

Nine Candles of Deepest Black by Matthew S. Cox

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

She saw it coming. She knew it would happen―but no one believed her.

Almost a year after tragedy shattered her family, sixteen-year-old Paige Thomas can’t break free from her guilt. Her mother ignores her, doting on her annoying little sister, while her father is a barely-functioning shell. He hopes a move to the quiet little town of Shadesboro PA will help them heal, but Paige doesn’t believe in happiness anymore.

On her first day at school, a chance encounter with a bullied eighth grader reawakens a gift Paige had forgotten, and ingratiates her into a pack of local outcasts. For weeks, they’ve been trying to cast a ritual to fulfill their innermost desires, but all they’ve done is waste time. After witnessing Paige touch the Ouija board and trigger a paranormal event, the girls are convinced another try with their new fifth member will finally work.

Once the darkness is unleashed, it’s not long before they learn it will give them exactly what they asked for―whether they want it or not.

Review:

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

A little lengthy at times, but overall an enjoyable “coming of (witchcraft) age” story that, while resting on archetypical elements, turns out to go deeper than what could be expected at first. Even though, looking at it with a more mature eye, I wouldn’t shelve it as a favourite, I can say that teenage!me would probably have loved it (I really was into that kind of witchcraft stories at the time).

For once, I’ll start with the elements I found problematic. First, depending on its moments, the story reminded me of “The Craft”—incidentally, a movie I had liked when it came out in 1996—since it rests on similar premises: girl moves to a new town, arrives in a school where she doesn’t know anyone, quickly becomes friends with the local wannabe-witches, then becomes the last member they needed to perform their rituals… and said rituals turn out to be not-so-nice magic after all. I don’t know if this was on purpose or not (after all, the author listed his inspirations at the end of the book, so I don’t see why some would have been hidden and others not). This said, this kind of plot is definitely not unique, and I’ve seen it in several other movies and books, so…

Quite a few tropes, like the ones mentioned above, are also involved—the goth-looking girls being bullied because they dress in black, the Ouija board… I’d deem this as “problematic… or not”, because truth be told, there are days when I just love myself a handful of tropes.

Finally, another thing I sometimes had trouble with were the descriptions, more specifically the ones about clothes. They’re not bad; it just felt odd when Paige’s outfit, for instance, was described every time she changed. The really strange thing here is that a character not changing clothes during a whole movie or series spanning more than a couple of days would bother me, yet when I see it mentioned in written form, actually I’d prefer it not to be. This is clearly linked to the medium: I’ve had the same feeling with other novels, too. As for other descriptions, the ones of the “mirror world” were creepy-good, although I wasn’t too impressed with the antagonist’s appearance, to be honest.

Where “Nine Candles” shone for me, on the other hand, was on the tropes it did -not- use, and on the presence of Paige’s family. For instance, in this story, you won’t find the typical, vomit-inducing love polygon, causing the main character to balance between which love interest to choose why the world is getting destroyed. Vapid love has no place here, as another character quickly finds out when she fails to get what she wants, and the one truly strong love is actually the one of family bonds. Because what’s thankfully missing as well is the Absent Parents trope, with our MC happily traipsing around unsupervised like every 16-year-old in the world does.

In fact, Paige’s family is very present, and turned from slightly annoying in the first chapters to a solid cluster that nothing can break. “Annoying” because of the initial situation: the father depressed and absent in mind after the death of the elder sister Amber, the mother only paying attention the younger sister Melissa, and Paige being somewhat invisible in the middle—it was a bit extreme, and led to Paige appearing at first like a pouting child. Especially since Melissa is really, really cute and nice, and not at all the spoiled brat cliché often expected when younger siblings are mentioned. But then, it turned into situations where Paige made a fragile truce with her mother, rediscovered her relationship with Melissa, and more. And Paige’s “wish” during the ritual (not a spoiler, everybody did expect The Ritual, right?) was a noble one, not a selfish one, confirming her character as a good person.

Families are present throughout the whole novel: as loved ones; as people to trust and who’ll support you even though they’re not convinced you’re saying the truth; as potential victims; as triggers of darker deeds; as ways of highlighting to which extent some characters are superficial, too. More than one aspect, and more than one family, is explored here, and I really liked that.

Conclusion: in its theme, not particularly original, yet definitely worth it for the inclusion of family themes (not only biological families—Paige and Co are also a second family for Sofia, for instance). It would make a good coming of age-slash-horror story for teenage readers. 3.5 stars.

Enregistrer

Yzabel / September 12, 2016

Review: Smoke

Smoke by Dan Vyleta

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

England. A century ago, give or take a few years.

An England where people who are wicked in thought or deed are marked by the Smoke that pours forth from their bodies, a sign of their fallen state. The aristocracy do not smoke, proof of their virtue and right to rule, while the lower classes are drenched in sin and soot. An England utterly strange and utterly real.

An elite boarding school where the sons of the wealthy are groomed to take power as their birthright. Teachers with mysterious ties to warring political factions at the highest levels of government. Three young people who learn everything they’ve been taught is a lie – knowledge that could cost them their lives. A grand estate where secrets lurk in attic rooms and hidden laboratories. A love triangle. A desperate chase. Revolutionaries and secret police. Religious fanatics and coldhearted scientists. Murder. A London filled with danger and wonder. A tortured relationship between a mother and a daughter, and a mother and a son. Unexpected villains and unexpected heroes. Cool reason versus passion. Rich versus poor. Right versus wrong, though which is which isn’t clear.

Review:

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

I really liked the premise: sin and violent emotions taking on shape and scent, through a strange smoke people let escape in spite of themselves, in an alternate Victorian setting where, much like in real Victorian England, the “lower classes” are considered as sinful, while the “upper classes” are supposed to be their betters—and what’s best here than -not- displaying the dreadful Smoke, right? However, ultimately I couldn’t care about the story at all, nor about the characters. I partly blame this on the rhythm, and partly on the choice of narrative tense and voices.

The first chapters, albeit a little slow, had the kind of atmosphere I hoped the whole novel would carry throughout, involving a private boarding school, creepy students, and masters entrenched within their stinky moral rectitude. Lovely, isn’t it? There is so much one can do with such a setting (can you tell I like boarding school settings?). There was so much promise to the strained relationship between Julius, the apparently perfect, almost angelic student who submits others to his own rule on top of the teachers’, a monster in elegant disguise, and Thomas, a murderer’s son, openly convinced that he’s a monster and will end up like his father.

Alas, after that, or more specifically about the part where the boys go visit London, things went downhill.

I can definitely say the narrative style didn’t convince me: a blend of a first and third person, but also of present and past tense. Unfortunately, first POV present is difficult to properly achieve, and third POV present is even more difficult… and it just didn’t work here, bringing a constant jarring note to the story. I spent more time being bothered about the tense shifts and sometimes confusing points of view, than really paying attention to what I was reading. Not to mention that some of those narrators weren’t so useful, being brought in for one scene, then never again—in other words, I never got to get a feeling for these characters, not enough to care about what happened to them. This extended to the actual main characters, who could have had an interesting dynamics as a twisted love triangle, united in sin and darkness as they were uncovering a plot that may or may not destroy England as they knew it.

Another really bothering thing was how the Smoke was everywhere, permeating every stratum of society, at the heart of the mystery… yet in the end, there was no clue as to -why- exactly it existed, what brought it out of humans. Something supernatural? Something physiological? Nada. And since there’s no indication whatsoever that there’ll be a second volume, for now it looks like we’ll never know. (Also, because the origins of Smoke, its nature, are involved in the plot our three “heroes” unveil, the absence of revelation and information is all the more annoying.)

It took me weeks to finish this novel, and to be honest, had I not felt like I owned a review for NetGalley, I’d have DNFed it.

Yzabel / September 7, 2016

Review: Unf*ck Your Habitat

Unf*ck Your Habitat: You’re Better Than Your Mess by Rachel Hoffman

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Finally, a housekeeping and organizational system developed for those of us who’d describe our current living situation as a “f*cking mess” that we’re desperate to fix. Unf*ck Your Habitat is for anyone who has been left behind by traditional aspirational systems. The ones that ignore single people with full-time jobs; people without kids but living with roommates; and people with mental illnesses or physical limitations. Most organizational books are aimed at traditional homemakers, DIYers, and people who seem to have unimaginable amounts of free time. They assume we all iron our sheets, have linen napkins to match our table runners, and can keep plants alive for longer than a week. Basically, they ignore most of us living here in the real world.

Interspersed with lists and challenges, this practical, no-nonsense advice relies on a 20/10 system (20 minutes of cleaning followed by a 10-minute break; no marathon cleaning allowed) to help you develop lifelong habits. It motivates you to embrace a new lifestyle in manageable sections so you can actually start applying the tactics as you progress. For everyone stuck between The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and Adulting, this philosophy is decidedly more realistic than aspirational, but the goal is the same: not everyone will have a showcase of a home, but whatever your habitat, you deserve for it to bring you happiness, not stress.

Review:

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

Not exactly what I expected, but a definitely interesting book full of advice about how to keep your place clean (or how to take it from a “very messy” level to a “manageable” one).

I definitely appreciated the author’s light tone, and the fact that she acknowledges how different we all are, and therefore how different our circumstances as well. Looking at some “household” blogs and magazines, it’s so true that we’re shown perfect homes, without any clutter… yet when you have a full-time job, and children to boot… or when you’re disabled and cannot move like you’d like to… all these “perfect places” are more guilt-inducing than anything else. And there are so many other reasons why house chores aren’t or can’t be a priority for so many people. It’s difficult to care about your place all day long when you have to study for your exams, or are suffering from chronic pain—but this doesn’t make you less of a person.

This book helps by listing various tips and tricks, along with advice for basically everybody involved, whether that person is the one in need of decluttering their place, or the one who’s been asked for help. It tells you how it’s totally OK not to go on cleaning marathons, which are exhausting and can even leave you kind of disgusted (and not feeling like doing anything for some time, leading to more mess and to another marathon later). Besides, it also provides examples of what you can use to clean, ideas to start organising short cleaning sessions (start from the top, wash the floor last…)… Basically, if you don’t know where to start, it takes you by the hand.

As far as I’m concerned, though, I feel that the book may be more helpful to someone who really has to deal with a lot of mess, and not so helpful to someone who’s on the fence, a bit like me: I dislike housework, I’m lazy as hell, but my laziness also makes me instinctively clean after myself in order to avoid generating a lot of mess… so basically I was already applying a lot of the principles here, which fall into the realm of “common sense” for me. Well, I guess it’s still good to feel validated, so it’s not such a downside! Possibly I was just expecting something else, something that’d be more directly useful to me specifically?

Conclusion: Depending on how badly you’re struggling with keeping your place OK, this book can provide a pretty good starting point. Perfect homes are overrated anyway. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / September 1, 2016

Review: Winning

Winning by Lara Deloza

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Who ever said being nice would get you to the top?

Certainly not Alexandra Miles. She isn’t nice, but she’s more than skilled at playing the part. She floats through the halls of Spencer High, effortlessly orchestrating the actions of everyone around her, making people bend to her whim without even noticing they’re doing it. She is the queen of Spencer High—and it’s time to make it official.

Alexandra has a goal, you see—Homecoming Queen. Her ambitions are far grander than her small town will allow, but Homecoming is just the first step to achieving total domination. So when peppy, popular Erin Hewett moves to town and seems to have a real shot at the crown, Alexandra has to take action.

With the help of her trusted friend Sam, she devises her most devious plot yet. She’ll introduce an unexpected third competitor into the mix, one whose meteoric rise—and devastating fall—will destroy Erin’s chances once and for all. Alexandra can run a scheme like this in her sleep. What could possibly go wrong?

Review:

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

I’m usually not much into “high school drama” (it’s often too over the top for me, or perhaps my high school years were just too quiet and boringly normal, who knows), but this novel was quite pleasant to read, and what could’ve been total cliché characters were surprisingly fleshed out and interesting, in spite of fitting tropes.

Alexandra Miles is the expected Queen Bee, the one who’ll no doubt become Homecoming Queen, like she has planned. Everything is planned, for her to get out of Spencer with a bang, not a whimper, become Miss America, and then… What else? What’s more? Lexi doesn’t know, and it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter too much either that she’s living what used to be her mother’s dream, the latter her having pushed her on the pageants road since she was a toddler. In short: Lexi is a queen, she knows it, she’s smart and cunning on top of being pretty, and she won’t settle down for anything less. And she’s ready to go to quite a few lengths for that.
Enters Erin, the transfer student, Erin the cutie who’s so adorable her mere presence soon starts to turn tables. She’s a viable candidate for Homecoming Queen… a -very- viable candidate. This puts several things into motion, Lexi’s plans not the least.

I liked Alexandra in general. She’s the villain, she’s cold and calculating, and overall all that’s “nice” about her is just on the surface, acting, ploys to get what she wants and twirl people around her finger. She’s good at that, really good, and she has the connections to boot, including her best friend Sam and her brother. She’s despicable, too, the way she uses Sam and Wyatt’s love for her to make them do her bidding. Yet once she comes home, once she has to face her drunken mother who forces her through the motions, you can’t help but wonder if she’s not just a kid who never received enough love—not an excuse, but an explanation. And when she believes in something, she pours her heart in it, for instance the way she stood up for Sam when the latter made her coming out. So, yes, she’s selfish, self-centered, and not a likeable person… yet I still found myself rooting for her sometimes. Not necessarily in a “I want to see her crush the others” way; instead, in a “I don’t want her to win but I also don’t want her to be completely crushed at the end”.

The story in general revolves around the girls. Male characters are present, but they’re not the main focus, they’re not the end to attain. These girls fend for themselves: Lexi aiming to be queen; Sam who sometimes questions her fierce loyalty; Erin the newcomer whose plans are a mystery; Sloane whom Alexandra humiliated and who’s determined to act instead of remaining passive; Ivy who gets dragged along the way yet turns out to be stronger than she thinks. The narrative makes use of four POVs (Lexi, Sam, Sloane and Ivy), and manages to play on their unreliability: is this or that person a real schemer, or do they just seem they are because Lexi perceives them that way?

Bonus points as well for the lesbian characters, and for the subplot that makes them strong people on their own, without going for the “villain / victim / casualty” tropes. They’re not 100% understood, but they’re not complete pariahs either, and stand their ground: no victimisation here. The romantic undertones would work exactly the same if they were about a boy and a girl; it’s all about understanding one’s feelings, deciding who’s the most important person after all, discovering love in an unexpected place, basically being human, with needs and feelings like everybody else.

Where I found the book wanting was in some of the plotting and decisions. Lexi’s plot was a bit… strange and convoluted, and I kept wondering if the scheme she had hatched would be very efficient anyway. It seemed it was more cruel than anything else, and that it rested on a somewhat “naive” vision. Granted, this fits, in that she’s brilliant but still 17, not a mastermind with decades of manipulations behind her; nevertheless, it also reminded me that this was, well, high school drama, and in that, it came too close to the usual clichés (such as “let’s make X drunk so that she looks bad in front of the whole school” — I guess Lexi had made me expect something more sophisticated, all in all). In the end, I suppose the plot was too simple to my liking, without as many twists and devious plans as I would’ve hoped. It would definitely have benefitted from more than the basic Homecoming thing.

Yzabel / August 29, 2016

Review: The Glittering Court

The Glittering Court by Richelle Mead

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

Big and sweeping, spanning from the refined palaces of Osfrid to the gold dust and untamed forests of Adoria, “The Glittering Court” tells the story of Adelaide, an Osfridian countess who poses as her servant to escape an arranged marriage and start a new life in Adoria, the New World. But to do that, she must join the Glittering Court.

Both a school and a business venture, the Glittering Court is designed to transform impoverished girls into upper-class ladies who appear destined for powerful and wealthy marriages in the New World. Adelaide naturally excels in her training, and even makes a few friends: the fiery former laundress Tamsin and the beautiful Sirminican refugee Mira. She manages to keep her true identity hidden from all but one: the intriguing Cedric Thorn, son of the wealthy proprietor of the Glittering Court.

When Adelaide discovers that Cedric is hiding a dangerous secret of his own, together they hatch a scheme to make the best of Adelaide’s deception. Complications soon arise—first as they cross the treacherous seas from Osfrid to Adoria, and then when Adelaide catches the attention of a powerful governor.

But no complication will prove quite as daunting as the potent attraction simmering between Adelaide and Cedric. An attraction that, if acted on, would scandalize the Glittering Court and make them both outcasts in wild, vastly uncharted lands…

Review:

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

This one… Well. Part of the plot was interesting, in that it offered an opening on the stories of three young women who may or may not be able to create a life for themselves… yet other plot points were a bit dumb, to say the least. Or worse.

First, the good: in spite of the whole Glittering Court premise (taking common-born girls and educating them to make them noble-looking wife material), the three main girl characters had motivations of their own to join that “school”. For Mira the refugee, without many prospects in Osfrid, joining the ‘Court is a way to try and make another kind of life for herself: she’s getting an education, she’s leaving for the “New World”, and even though it’s basically to snatch a husband, she hopes she’ll find another opportunity during that time she’s bought for herself. For Tamsin, it’s also an opportunity, one to rise in a world that otherwise will keep her poor at beast, and possibly forced to do darker deeds at worst (it’s never clearly said—I suppose it will be revealed in book 3—but I’m positive she’d under some kind of threat, and being the best student, getting the best husband in the lot, is the only solution for her to, paradoxically, free herself). For “Adelaide”, it’s about reaching for the unknown, because the known is going to be a prison of its own, and she’s so trapped she’s ready to do anything to escape, including something dumb (more about this below).

There’s also a whole Frontier/New World dynamic that goes past the initial, slightly insipid “let’s learn fashion and manners and wear nice dresses” idea. I probably wouldn’t have lasted through 400 pages of seeing the girls learn to act like proper ladies—or if it had been about that, I would’ve needed much more intrigue thrown in the middle to keep myself busy—so the parts where the girls are in the New World

On the downside… Adelaide’s motives were incredibly dumb and made no sense: facing the prospect of an arranged marriage with an insufferable man and his over-controlling grandmother, she uses the Court as an opportunity to run away… yet the whole thing is dumb because the Court is precisely what she tries to avoid, with perhaps a few more potential choices for a future husband, but that’s all. Basically, it’s still about getting married (sold), and going through the motions to attract a man’s (buyer’s) eye, and without much choice in the end, because if she doesn’t fetch enough of a price, or if she refuses to marry, she has to work (in bad conditions) to buy back her contract. I think I would’ve enjoyed her “deciding to create her own fate” idea much, much better if she had joined a band of highwaymen, or whatever else. Like marrying the first guy, taking his money, then arranging for the controlling grandma to fall down the stairs. For instance.

Unsurprisingly, I was also much unfazed when it came to the romance. The love interest is a nice guy all around, and a decent person, and definitely not the worst choice of partner, for sure. However, he remained bland, without much personality—and that’s really too bad, since it enforces the stereotype that “nice guys aren’t interesting”, which may become in turn “the only good romance must be with a bad guy”. (Not necessarily what happens in this novel, it’s just the way I perceived it: if the good guys aren’t made interesting enough, people are going to look to the less savory ones… won’t they?)

I feel that overall, this “dull” side to the main male character also expanded to the story as a whole. There are quite a few things happening, sea storms, rumours of pirates, a scheming noble, adventure/being pioneers in a faraway colony, some revenge plot (that everybody save for the MCs would’ve seen coming through the thickest fog on the darkest night ever), and yet I was never excited by what the girls went through. I still don’t understand how it came that events sometimes piled upon each other too quickly, to the point of being wrapped up a little too neatly at the end through a series of coincidences, making it look like so much was happening… and at the same time remained dull and without much of an actual plot. And hinting all the way at the two other girls’ secrets, and never revealing what they are. Argh.

The setting didn’t help: basically a Regency/Victorian Europe (=Osfrid) vs. a New World (=Adoria) with budding colonies, including “Alanzan heretics” looking for a place to worship in peace (=Protestants/Puritans), only the “natives” aren’t Native Americans but some sort of Celt-looking people. Anyway, it was much too close to our world’s history to be really original, and not very developed, resting on this “closeness”, therefore adding to the feeling of a cardboard backdrop. Moreover, it was problematic when it comes to the whole colonisation/”civilised men vs. savages” aspect, because it doesn’t stray from any colonial vision, first by sort of trying to make the whole Glittering Court look glamorous when it’s not (it’s not slavery, granted, but still a form of indenture with selling oneself to a man the only outcome), then by demeaning the “natives”. I kept hoping that there’d be some different undertones here, something to undermine the racist outlook on this, yet if there was, I couldn’t feel it.

So. Meh. 1.5 stars.

Yzabel / August 22, 2016

Review: The Vengeful Half

The Vengeful Half by Jaclyn Dolamore

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

Olivia might look human, but she’s grown up with a heavy secret: her mother is a potion-maker from a parallel world, the Hidden Lands.

Alfred is the blind, charismatic young heir to the illegal potions trade. When Mom is kidnapped by the magic dealers with whom she once made a bad bargain, Olivia has no choice but to trust Alfred’s offer of help. They travel to a strange new world of bootlegged American pop culture, lifelike doll people, and reincarnation. Alfred finds himself putting his position on the line to defend Olivia against his family’s conniving plans. Maybe he has morals…or maybe he’s just falling in love.

When Olivia escapes from an attack by a curiously familiar sorceress, she learns that potion dealers weren’t the only thing Mom was hiding from. Dark secrets lurk in Olivia’s past, and now Olivia must kill or be killed by the girl with whom she once shared everything…

Review:

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

This is one of those overdue reviews, since I’ve had this book on my tablet for quite a while. I remember requesting it partly because of its cover (the paperback one — by comparison, the Kindle cover on Amazon is pretty bland), which seemed quite ominous to me. What can I say, I’m weak when faced with a certain type of cover.

The plot was intriguing, for sure. A hidden world full of family secrets, alliances to be had, strange magic (the doll people and the potions), ancient feuds, revelations aplenty, and a hidden enemy who’s been bidding her time and is now bent on getting what she wants: possibly revenge… or something else? There’s almost too much going on at times. At first I thought it would be more a quest-like story, with Olivia going after her mother and braving danger to save her. It didn’t turn out like that, but that was alright, the kind of plot and intrigue it led to was pretty fine with me as well.

The characters: we have that girl, Olivia, who knows she’s from another world/civilisation, without having been brought up in it, which leaves room for showing this land to the reader, without necessarily having to explain *all* of it, since Olivia already knows part of it and we can dispense with. We have Alfred, rich heir and future boss to a crime family, who’s blind almost since birth and goes his way without whining about this—he’s used to it, he has trouble with some things but has found ways to cope. Alfred also has to constantly remind other people that he can do, not everything but a lot of things: a conundrum close, I think, to quite a few double standards going around disabled people (pitied and treated like children almost, or blamed for “not making enough efforts” by many, instead of being considered as human beings first and foremost…). There’s also Thessia, Alfred’s fiancée, who could have been a nasty bitch and/or a jealous whiner, especially since she fits the too-beautiful-to-be-true girl, and turns out to be an idealist, an activist, and, well, a fairly decent person to be around, even though she has her downside (Atlantean rich society seems to be hell-bent on having its girls marry rich heirs, and gods forbid they want to have a career of their own…).

So, all in all, a lot of interesting things here. Unfortunately, a lot more annoyed me, causing me not to enjoy this story in the end.

From the start, something kept nagging at me, and it took me a while to put my finger on it. At some point, the author mentioned when the story originated (more about that later), back when she was still a child or teenager; I think this was what I “felt” about it, for having gone myself through the same conundrum of taking a story I first created when I was 12 or so, and trying to trim it and make it something worth reading. This was something I found extremely hard to do, because what we perceive as wonderful plot twists and concepts when we’re younger aren’t necessarily good things to leave as is… yet “upgrading” them is easier said than done. And so, I had that strange feeling that I was reading something I might have written when I was younger, and my reaction to it was a little similar. It’s hard to explain. I could sum it up with “this feels like a very early work, and it needs more editing.”

Another thing that bothered me, when it comes to this theme of parallel/hidden worlds, is how close to ours the latter was, when a parallel world could pave the way to so many other things. Let me develop a bit more by giving a personal example: I grew up in France, with a lot of dubbed TV shows originating from the USA, and at the time I had that fascination for the USA. If I wrote a story, I set it in some imaginary US town. Not my home country, no, it wasn’t “good enough”: it had to be like the USA, feel like the USA, whatever. Obviously it didn’t occur to me at the time that Stephen King, for instance, set his stories in his country because that’s what he knew, and that I was under the impression everything was better there only because I hadn’t been exposed to shows from other countries. (Bear with me, I was 12-something.) And somehow, the way Atlantis people lived reminded me of this: their world felt like it hadn’t been so much evolving as trying to mimic Earth’s, and more specifically, well, you guess it. “Everything’s better if it looks like our world.” Kind of like being promised a walk in quaint little streets with exotic market stalls, and finding yourself in a mall instead—Atlanteans driving Ferraris didn’t exactly impress me. I’d stand with Olivia on that one, who was expecting a high fantasy world at first and found a place with chocolate and soda cans instead.

(To be fair, though, all this might still hold more appeal to a teenage audience than it did to me: I also remember thinking “those are plot devices/themes I would’ve used myself, since I loved them, when I was in my teens.” I had that thing going for telepathy and psychic powers in general, and parallel worlds, and “aliens/people with powers coming from those worlds to live hidden on Earth”. I seriously doubt I was the only one.)

Third annoying bit: the somewhat sexist, somewhat dismissive way a few characters tended to act. Alfred disappointed me towards the end when it came to Thessia (pretty assholish move to make if you ask me, and then she’s left to go away with the equivalent of “kthxbye see ya later, ah women, they always need some time to calm down huh”). Or what I mentioned above regarding heiresses only good enough to marry—any female character with a position/job of her own seemed to be either a villain or a reject/castaway/fugitive, as if no “proper woman” could hold her own. Although was pointed as backwards thinking, I felt a dichotomy, a certain hypocrisy in how it was mentioned, yet the people mentioning it still kept buying into the patriarchal model nonetheless.

Fourth: so many tropes. So, so many. You’ve got it all: pretty boy with a beautiful fiancée against which the main character feels so plain (but still becomes a love interest fairly quickly); people who were supposed to be dead but aren’t; telepathy/psychic powers being used and thrown in in vague descriptions, solving things a little too easily at times; mandatory love triangle; elite school in which talking to The Wrong Person will turn you into a black sheep, instantly, just add water. It felt like a soap opera at times, and since I’m not particularly keen on those, it didn’t help.

On the fence: the drawings, comic strips and short inserts. I didn’t care about the style, but I can certainly understand the appeal, and who would fault an author for including those and being enthusiastic about it? Not me! However, I think they disrupted the flow of the story in some cases, either by revealing too much about the characters at that specific point or by just being there in the middle (did we really need pictures of the various soda brands?). More annoying though were the written inserts: in between two chapters, we get a bit (twice!) about how the story was born. Not uninteresting, yet… this could and should be put at the end, otherwise it’s either disruptive or meant to be skipped, which would defeat the whole point.

Conclusion: could’ve been for me, but… nope, sorry.