america Archives - The Y Logs

Yzabel / April 28, 2019

Review: Internment

Internment by Samira Ahmed
My rating: [usr 2.5]

Blurb:

Rebellions are built on hope.

Set in a horrifying near-future United States, seventeen-year-old Layla Amin and her parents are forced into an internment camp for Muslim American citizens.

With the help of newly made friends also trapped within the internment camp, her boyfriend on the outside, and an unexpected alliance, Layla begins a journey to fight for freedom, leading a revolution against the internment camp’s Director and his guards.

Heart-racing and emotional, Internment challenges readers to fight complicit silence that exists in our society today.

Review:

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

The theme of this book was definitely scary, in that it’s not something that can never happen—it has happened in the past already, and anyone who’s studied history a little, and/or gotten interested in studying extremist movements, will know very well that even an apparently “balanced” society can give way to extreme rules, to persecuting people, and to turning your average citizen into an “I was just doing my job” person.

The story echoes the internment of many Japanese-descent American citizens during World War II, often considered as “enemies of the nation” and interned as “potential dangers”. There is no World War here, “only” the aftermath of 9/11 and growing fears of terrorism, with people being so afraid of a fringe of Muslim people that they lump all Muslims in the same basket, starting with a religion census, then moving to curfews and the burning of books. Also, the parallels drawn with early 21st century US politics are obvious (although this is not limited to the USA)… perhaps a little too much. Which leads me to what was my main beef with the book: it makes everything too obvious.

Don’t mistake me: the message IS really important, and there’s no way any decent society should let something like this happen (again). However, I often found that it was hammered through and through, and that overall, more subtlety, and a more mature treatment of it all, would’ve been welcome. It’s a little as if too much repetition, too much obviousness, weakened the message by making it tiresome, in a way. (I’m not sure if I’m explaining myself very well here. It was difficult to properly put my finger on what had been nagging me throughout my reading.)

A few other things annoyed me, too. The writing itself was fairly simplistic, with Layla’s thoughts often circling around the same things (like her boyfriend), and in general, there wasn’t really any explanation about how things came to be. I could fill in some blanks because I know my history, but more background details about the escalation of Islamophobia leading to the internment camps would’ve been great (and would’ve helped to strengthen the message)—just like it would’ve been good to see more chemistry when relationships were involved. For instance, Layla and David: we don’t get to see them together enough in the beginning to get a feeling for their relationship, and this makes it hard to really empathise with their obsession to see each other (even though doing so endangers pretty much everyone: David, Layla, his family, her family, the people who help them…).

The same goes for those people who are on the Muslims’ side: with everyone at the camp cut from the outside world, with no real news, no phones, no internet allowed, whatever happens outside is learnt through third parties. We don’t really -see- those reactions, we don’t get to read the texts that Layla manages to smuggle outside and that inspire people, etc. And most characters’ motivations are never really explored. Why is the Director such a cartoonish villain? What motivates the guards who try to help? What motivates (or threatens) the minders turned traitors to their people?

The ending, too, was… conveniently simple. And got rid of one specific plot point that otherwise would’ve needed more explanation. That was very predictable… and very frustrating.

Conclusion: I definitely agree with the message here, but as a novel, it didn’t really work for me.

Yzabel / October 26, 2017

Review: Slip

Slip by David Estes

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Someone must die before another can be born…

As sea levels rise and livable landmasses shrink, the Reorganized United States of America has instituted population control measures to ensure there are sufficient resources and food to sustain the growing population. Birth authorization must be paid for and obtained prior to having a child. Someone must die before another can be born, keeping the country in a population neutral position at what experts consider to be the optimal population. The new laws are enforced by a ruthless government organization known as Pop Con, responsible for terminating any children resulting from unauthorized births, and any illegals who manage to survive past their second birthday, at which point they are designated a national security threat and given the name Slip.

But what if one child slipped through the cracks? What if someone knew all the loopholes and how to exploit them? Would it change anything? Would the delicate resource balance be thrown into a tailspin, threatening the lives of everyone?

And how far would the government go to find and terminate the Slip?

In a gripping story of a family torn apart by a single choice, Slip is a reminder of the sanctity of a single life and the value of the lives we so often take for granted.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

I hadn’t read anything by David Estes in quite a while, and when I saw this series on NetGalley, I thought, well, time to address this state of affairs. I shall also confess that nowadays, I do have a bit of a love-hate relationship with YA dystopias in general, for various reasons, and I was glad that this book, while it is a bit predictable and uses expected tropes, avoids what are the usual pitfalls of the genre for me.

The main characters in general were likeable. Benson is a good mix of resourcefulness, emotions and inner strength. Luce is the obvious ‘love interest’, but without falling in his arms, and with a past that makes it possible (while awful for her) to develop this relationship more slowly and believably than what usually happens in YA novels; she’s also resourceful, daring, and doesn’t hesitate to stand by her friends (well, OK, I guess her decision to face danger with Benson who lied to her was kind of stupid, but…). Michael Kelly as well is an interesting man, torn between his job and his mission of killing unauthorised babies and children, and his desire to protect his son. I didn’t care much for Harrison, though, perhaps because of his ‘perfect athlete and student’ record, and I thought that his mid-book decision came a little out of nowhere, considering he wasn’t seen pondering much about it (and his feelings) before. And I’m on the fence about the Destroyer, in his case I believe I -would- have want to see more of him before he became a Hunter, for his evolution into a psychopath to be better pitched against him as a child (in a way, I love to hate him for his appalling personality, but he’s too one-sided as a villain).

The world in which these characters evolve was also better rounded up than usual in dystopian YA novels (where I often get the feeling of a ‘pocket world’, totally isolated from the rest of Earth, which always makes me wonder where are the other countries and why they’re not poking their noses in). The population control method in those new USA is harsh, however the situation that led to it makes sense: climatic change, rising water levels, drowned coasts, less resources left to feed all the people, and it is logical to expect that the rest of the world has met a similar fate, hence if everybody stays in their corner and develop their own policies, it’s not unbelievable. This world is all the more creepy because it’s not such an impossible future, all in all.

Minor pet peeve: I really have a hard time with the name ‘Pop Con’, that just looks so much like ‘pop corn’ to me. XD (But I do see the naming convention roots à la 1984.)

I found the beginning a little slow, possibly because it devoted quite a few chapters to a part of Benson’s life that I felt I didn’t need so many details about—the story becomes more interesting after the boy grows up and we meet his friends. After that were more action scenes, especially once ‘the chase’ gets into motion (that’s no spoiler, of course at some point people would realise who the Slip is!). There was a bit of a plot hole/flimsy explanation, though, regarding the Wire/Jumpers/Lifers connection; it would’ve demanded some more preparation to be more logical, I think.

Conclusion: 3.5, not perfect but definitely enjoyable, especially its second half.

Yzabel / October 30, 2016

Review: Doctor Who: The American Adventures

Doctor Who: The American Adventures by Justin Richards

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb::

Travel through time and space with the Twelfth Doctor in these six brand new adventures, set in a host of locations across the US and eras from throughout US history.

An invisible spacecraft turns up at the Battle of New Orleans, an alien presence is detected at the 1944 D-Day landings, and ghosts take over New York’s subway tunnels as they’re being dug in the early 1900s…

Review:

[I received a copy of this novel through NetGalley.]

This was advertised in the Comics category, so I thought it’d be a comics, but it’s actually a collection of short stories. Ah, well.

Not sure what to think about it, really. I found it… just bland, to be honest. On the bright side, none of the stories come with glaring plot holes or annoying sidekicks, but on the other hand, none left me with a lasting impression either.

The main problems here for me are:
– The characterisation of the Doctor. The stories are supposed to feature Capaldi’s Doctor; it could be just any generic Doctor, though, the way he acts and is described. I could find no defining feature (even the eyebrows seemed weak!).
– Most of the stories’s endings are disappointing: too abrupt, or close to nonexistant. The fifth story, for instance, leaves a lot of things unsaid. The least I expect in a story about an assassin trying to off their target is the assassin’s motives, or who’s hired them. Here, nothing. It just ends.

“All That Glitters”: Forgettable. The plot is OK, but there’s are no surprised here, it’s all lvery classic, quickly solved, and a bit boring.

“Off the Trail”: This one had more of a creepy feeling, the “something’s wrong but we don’t know yet what” feeling. Still, the “enemy” was done with too quickly.

“Ghosts of New York”: Interesting theme, boring execution.

“Taking the Plunge”: A bit better. Not complicated, a simple enough plot to follow, but with more oompfh than the previous stories.

“Spectator Sport”: I seriously didn’t see the point. Tourism on battlefields in different eras is ethically bad. OK. I was more interested anyway in the crime story wrapped in it; however, the latter fizzled and petered out. (See above about this.)

“Base of Operations”: Considering its theme, it would have deserved a more complex resolution: I thought of all the stories, this was the most promising, the one with the strongest premise. At the end the Doctor was more like himself, with his determined stance of defending Earth and making sure the enemy’s aware of it.

Conclusion: 1.5 stars. I don’t recommend it, it is of little interest.

Yzabel / October 29, 2016

Review: The Radium Girls

The Radium Girls: They paid with their lives. Their final fight was for justice. by Kate Moore

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Ordinary women in 1920s America.

All they wanted was the chance to shine.

Be careful what you wish for.

‘The first thing we asked was, “Does this stuff hurt you?” And they said, “No.” The company said that it wasn’t dangerous, that we didn’t need to be afraid.’

1917. As a war raged across the world, young American women flocked to work, painting watches, clocks and military dials with a special luminous substance made from radium. It was a fun job, lucrative and glamorous – the girls themselves shone brightly in the dark, covered head to toe in the dust from the paint. They were the radium girls.
As the years passed, the women began to suffer from mysterious and crippling illnesses. The very thing that had made them feel alive – their work – was in fact slowly killing them: they had been poisoned by the radium paint. Yet their employers denied all responsibility. And so, in the face of unimaginable suffering – in the face of death – these courageous women refused to accept their fate quietly, and instead became determined to fight for justice.

Drawing on previously unpublished sources – including diaries, letters and court transcripts, as well as original interviews with the women’s relatives – The Radium Girls is an intimate narrative account of an unforgettable true story. It is the powerful tale of a group of ordinary women from the Roaring Twenties, who themselves learned how to roar.

Review:

[I received a copy of this novel through NetGalley.]

This book was fairly difficult for me to read. Fascinating, but difficult, because of its theme (and I must say immediately, this is entirely personal): on the one hand, it was really interesting; on the other hand, having teeth/jaw problems myself, reading some of the symptoms the girls manifested triggered my own fears (even though, obviously, my own problems are totally minor compared to theirs!). And that was before the book got to the cancer parts. It made up for very strange reading sessions, where I’d pick up my Kindle, read a couple of pages, leave it, go back to it 2 minutes later because I still wanted to know what would follow, rinse and repeat. Very weird—but, as I mentioned, and to be fair, entirely personal.

One may wonder why I picked this book, knowing my fears about part of its themes—obviously I should’ve expected the latter. This said, having previously read a couple of articles about the Radium Girls, I simply wanted to know more: about when exactly it happened, over how many years, how they finally got justice, more details about the hurdles, and so on. And in that regard, the book definitely doesn’t disappoint. Or perhaps it will an actual historian of that period and of that specific theme, but let’s be honest, I doubt the audience for such works is entirely made up of professional researchers anyway. So there’s much to learn in these pages about the Radium Girls, and it provides much more than a mere introduction to the topic.

The writing style was one of the things that made the book interesting to read, by humanising the accounts of what happened to the Radium Girls: I doubt a dry, clinical style would have worked here, all the more because there were quite a few pages dedicated to describing symptoms of radium poisoning and court sessions. You can feel that the author was genuinely passionate about her topic, also in a more literary way, and wanted to show the women involved as real people, with their lives, husbands, families, and (quashed) hopes for the future, and not just as examples of the consequences of radium poisoning. This is even more poignant because it happened in the Roaring Twenties, with the glamour and glitz I think they project in many people’s minds: the girls appeared at first as so young, in love with life and dancing and going out, and it was so easy to picture them as happy-go-lucky flappers who never deserved such a fate (not that anyone deserves it, mind you).

This gave a humane dimension to what could otherwise have been a bit boring to read, I suppose—and provided for reading sections, instead of huge info-dumps. On the downside, I found this style sometimes cheesy; it worked in some chapters/paragraphs, it didn’t in others, when it felt like the author was “laying it a bit too thick”, so to speak. But that’s a minor complain on my part.

Also, since I got the ebook version for review, I didn’t get to see the picture that are inserted in the printed book . Too bad for me.

Conclusion: 4 stars. If you’re like me, this may trigger a few fears, yet the book and the light it sheds on a not-so-well-known part of US history made it all worth it.

Yzabel / May 26, 2016

Review: The Fireman

The Fireman by Joe Hill

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

No one knows exactly when it began or where it originated. A terrifying new plague is spreading like wildfire across the country, striking cities one by one: Boston, Detroit, Seattle. The doctors call it Draco Incendia Trychophyton. To everyone else it’s Dragonscale, a highly contagious, deadly spore that marks its hosts with beautiful black and gold marks across their bodies—before causing them to burst into flames. Millions are infected; blazes erupt everywhere. There is no antidote. No one is safe.

Harper Grayson, a compassionate, dedicated nurse as pragmatic as Mary Poppins, treated hundreds of infected patients before her hospital burned to the ground. Now she’s discovered the telltale gold-flecked marks on her skin. When the outbreak first began, she and her husband, Jakob, had made a pact: they would take matters into their own hands if they became infected. To Jakob’s dismay, Harper wants to live—at least until the fetus she is carrying comes to term. At the hospital, she witnessed infected mothers give birth to healthy babies and believes hers will be fine too. . . if she can live long enough to deliver the child.

Convinced that his do-gooding wife has made him sick, Jakob becomes unhinged, and eventually abandons her as their placid New England community collapses in terror. The chaos gives rise to ruthless Cremation Squads—armed, self-appointed posses roaming the streets and woods to exterminate those who they believe carry the spore. But Harper isn’t as alone as she fears: a mysterious and compelling stranger she briefly met at the hospital, a man in a dirty yellow fire fighter’s jacket, carrying a hooked iron bar, straddles the abyss between insanity and death. Known as The Fireman, he strolls the ruins of New Hampshire, a madman afflicted with Dragonscale who has learned to control the fire within himself, using it as a shield to protect the hunted . . . and as a weapon to avenge the wronged.

In the desperate season to come, as the world burns out of control, Harper must learn the Fireman’s secrets before her life—and that of her unborn child—goes up in smoke.

Review:

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

I don’t really know what happened. I guess for now, I’m not with the majority of readers? I thought I’d enjoy this novel much more than I did, and… well, I didn’t dislike it, but I didn’t care much about it either. The fact it took me one month to finish it, even though it’s not a complicated book (we’re not talking hard non-fiction university topics here), is proof enough, I guess?

The basic idea was good. Although I found the science behind the Dragonscale is a bit wishy-washy, in itself, it could have worked if the plot had been more… enthralling? It started well enough, with a potential (and loathsome) antagonist almost straight off the bat, and a main character, Harper, who’s a bit of a pushover, but with room to evolve and overall positive features. The story introduced harsh themes, too: for instance, Harper and Jakob had that “contract” that if they were to get infected, they’d die together peacefully, before the Dragonscale burnt them to a crips like it did for all the other infected people. Except that Harper finds out she’s pregnant and infected almost at the same time, and suddenly the choice isn’t so easy anymore—she wants to live, for herself as much as for the baby. Jakob doesn’t agree so much, and that’s where the first batch of crap hits the fan.

The story follows Harper during her pregnancy, as she tries to figure out how to go on, how to survive, who she can entrust her child with once they’re born… As her path crosses with that of the Fireman’s, she finds herself involved with other infected people, and realises that there’s so much more to Dragonscale than meet the eye…

…And from then on, my interested gradually dwindled. I’m not so sure how to explain that. I think it was a mix of events unfolding too slowly (considering the apocalyptic setting), combined with somewhat long-winded writing, characters that remained more one-dimensional, and elements I’m didn’t particularly cared about. Mostly:

– Harper has this thing with Mary Poppins, staying positive, etc. and in the end, even though she was relatively resourceful in general, there wasn’t that much more to her. Father Storey is a nice and probably too naïve man and… that’s all. The Fireman is supposed to be a larger than life figure, but he doesn’t do that much, all things considered, and his influence on the story wasn’t as exciting as the blurb led me to think. The “slightly crazy cult leader” character is just that. Jakob remains just loathsome when he could’ve been a terrifying figure. And so on.

– The cult/camp is a hit-or-miss element for me. I’ve always thought there was something fascinating—well, fascinating like a train-wreck—in those communities centered around one or two leader characters, with everybody foollowing blindly and outsiders/dissenters being shunned, castigated, thrown out, etc. But it just didn’t work so well for me here.

– At times the characters spent too much time debating and discussing instead of being proactive. It was a bit boring.

– The collapse of society itself didn’t always make much sense. Some places have electricity when it’s supposed to be gone and there’s not that much of an explanation. Or cell phones: months later the network’s still up. There was an annoying dichotoomy between the apparent collapse and sudden elements turning out to be working perfectly well when you wouldn’t expect them to anymore.

– I also had a hard time with chapters regularly ending in foreshadowing. As in: “But the CDC team never got to look at it, because by the time August rolled around Portsmouth Hospital was a hollowed-out chimney, gutted by fire, and Dr. Ryall was dead, along with Albert Holmes, Nurse Lean, and over five hundred patients.” (That’s in an early chapter, not too much oof a spoiler, by the way.) So, sure, it’s an apocaplytpic/post-apocalyptic setting, and you do expect people to die and things to go bad… doesn’t mean I want it to be spelled out every time before it happens. Even though I know nothing good will last, I still want to be surprised as to what bad things will happen.

Conclusion: As said, good ideas, especially the way the ‘Scale behaved once one tried to understand how it really worked, but the plot, pacing and characters didn’t made much of an impression on me.

Yzabel / December 5, 2015

Review: Yesterday’s Gone (Season 1)

Yesterday’s Gone: Season One by Sean Platt

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

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

Well, almost everyone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Strangers unite.

Sides are chosen.

Will humanity survive what it never saw coming?

The only certainty is that Yesterday’s Gone.

Review:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yzabel / June 27, 2015

Review: The Truth According To Us

The Truth According to Us: A Novel by Annie Barrows

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Evoking the same small town charm with the same great eye for character, the co-author of GUERNSEY LITERARY & POTATO PEEL SOCIETY finds her own voice in this debut novel about a young debutante working for the Federal Writer’s Project whose arrival in Macedonia, West Virginia changes the course of history for a prominent family who has been sitting on a secret for decades. The Romeyn family is a fixture in the town, their identity tied to its knotty history. Layla enters their lives and lights a match to the family veneer and a truth comes to light that will change each of their lives forever.

Review:

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

This was a strange read, one that I both liked, but less than I had hoped and expected. To be honest, I found the book a wee bit too long. Somehow, it felt like it could’ve been tightened, and although the last chapters, after the “reveal”, were needed, they still seemed to drag a little.

The style here mixes present tense first person narrative, past tense third person narrative, and excerpts from letters. I liked the tone of those, especially Layla’s, as they were witty, and at the same time revealed her lack of experience in other circumstances than those she had grown up in. I’m not sure what to make of the past/present/POV choice—as usual. I’ve seen this technique used more and more in the past few years, and I can never tell if it’s a good idea or if it irks me. Both, I suppose. Here, I was more bothered when the third person narrative jumped from one character to another within the span of a couple of paragraphs.

Macedonia had the charms of a little town in summer, with its quirky people, its own unspoken rules, its skeletons in the closet, whether in the past (the soldiers who spend the night in the house of a lady… of the evening, or the general who was actually crazy enough to shoot his own son) or in the present (what happened to Vause, Felix’s actual occupation). I found myself wanting to discover more about its history as seen through the eyes of its inhabitants.

Layla didn’t strike me as particularly interesting, yet turned out better than I thought, at least, proving to others (and to herself) that she could be more than a future trophy wife, and that she wasn’t so stupid—only sheltered. While she didn’t approach her task as a historian in the most objective manner, which is impossible anyway as history is never objective, she still did it with the intent of writing about Macedonia’s past in an interesting way. What I didn’t like was the emotional part of her involvement when it came to a specific character, as it was so painfully obvious that she was being played… and after that, unfortunately, she kind of fell flat.

Other characters I found annoying on a regular basis, and it seemed that mostly nobody knew what they really wanted. Not unexpected (*I* don’t know what I want in life, after all!), but annoying after a while. I still don’t know if everybody was completely selfish reflections of how bleak human nature is, stupid, full of love, lying to themselves, hiding their inner pain, wanting only what others had… All of that, I guess? On the one hand, it was interesting, showing that the “idyllic little southern town” was all but. On the other hand, characters like Jottie constantly made me think “can’t you be happy with one choice in your life, for a change?” (Basically, she denied herself for 18 years, then when she finally chose for herself, it was “too easy”, thus worthless. I wouldn’t call 18 years “too easy”, but maybe that’s just me.)

I would have liked to see more events unfold from Willa’s point of view. She had both a ruthless and childish take on things, which fitted her 12-year-old self, balancing between carefree childhood and wanting the grown-ups to see her as an equal, someone they’d confide into. As they obviously wouldn’t, she tried to discover things by herself—and got more than her money’s worth in that regard. I didn’t really like how she reacted in the end, as it made her part of the narrative less involved.

Conclusion: Interesting background (Macedonia, the WPA, the strike), but not so interesting for me when it came to the characters, who were a little too predictable and also annoying. 2.5 stars.

Yzabel / April 6, 2014

Review: Midnight Riders

Midnight Riders by Pete Clark

My rating:[rating=3]

Summary:

“Gather ‘round people and you shall hear
about a bunch of bullshit that is clear.
Of riders and horses and monsters too;
your parents lied – they can still get you.
Hardly anyone who was there is alive
to dispel the rumor, uncover the lies,
but there was more than one man who rode that day
and more than just Redcoats who got in their way.”

Along the way, Longfellow lost something in his translation it seems.

Everyone has heard of the French and Indian War and the American Revolution. However, they have not heard about them this way! The American founding fathers had a lot more to deal with at the end of the 18th century than tariffs and tea; avoiding hurled trees from Wendigos and gargoyles falling from the sky took a lot of patience. How is Samuel Prescott supposed to hunt the leader of the Rippers when the British keep infringing upon the colonists’ rights?

Review:

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

The promised combination of paranormal, American history and humour of this novel appealed to me, and I must say I spent quite a good time reading it. While the plot itself is actually quite serious (the War of Independence and the couple of decades that preceded it, seen through the prism of “what if supernatural creatures had plagued the colonists on top of it?”), it also makes fun of a lot of events, tropes, and famous characters—often directly, but sometimes also in a more subtle way. If you want to read a really serious supernatural retelling of history, the humour might break it; on the other hand, if you’re looking for a funny story, and don’t mind a bit of swearing and jabs at political correctness at times, then it may be for you. (As a word of warning, though, it’s best to brush up on your American history first, otherwise some hints and jokes won’t work so well.)

What may contribute to a reader liking or not liking this novel—depending on personal tastes:

* The characters aren’t too developed. The story spans over 20 years, and partly rests on assumed knowledge of the historical personas it makes use of. For instance, don’t expect to be carried on a journey into Paul Revere’s life, thoughts and feelings. Too many characters are involved for this to happen. However, you’ll find a lot of known names.

* Tropes. Lots of tropes. Allusions to red shirts, and the likes… I like when a novel plays on those, so I was glad whenever I found some. Since humour is part of the story, they work for me, much better than clichés thrown into a “serious” plot. (There’s one character in particular who likes pointing out every time a Deus Ex Machina pops up.)

* Recurrent jokes, like zombies and werewolves regularly coming to crash a battle or skirmish. (I must admit that after a while, some of them became a little old in my opinion, though.)

* Historical accuracy: not 100% accurate. Mostly the research was well-done in my opinion, but sometimes, a character will find him/herself in a place a few days too early, compared to what really happened. This said, the novel also plays on those “wrong facts”, using them to lean on the fourth wall. Scratch that: to punch a hole through it, actually. Again, this worked for me, but may not do so well for a reader who dislikes such occurrences.

* The writing: a bit dry in places, but otherwise befitting the humorous undertone. I’ve seen better, I’ve seen worse.

3.5 stars. It has its faults, and sometimes overdoes it. Nevertheless, I enjoyed it and laughed regularly.

Yzabel / September 6, 2012

Review: The Plot Against America

The Plot Against America by Philip Roth

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

In an astonishing feat of narrative invention, our most ambitious novelist imagines an alternate version of American history. In 1940 Charles A. Lindbergh, heroic aviator and rabid isolationist, is elected President. Shortly thereafter, he negotiates a cordial “understanding” with Adolf Hitler, while the new government embarks on a program of folksy anti-Semitism.

For one boy growing up in Newark, Lindbergh’s election is the first in a series of ruptures that threatens to destroy his small, safe corner of America — and with it, his mother, his father, and his older brother.

Review:

Hard to review, this one. I’m quite keen on Roth’s works in general, but I wasn’t so convinced here. I still found it enjoyable—just not as much as others of his novels.

What I liked:
* The “what if…” aspect (that’s why I had picked this book, after all). I have such a soft spot for these, especially when they involve American history and WW2.
* The way the story was told, through the eyes of a child. I think it allowed the author to toy (no pun intended) with a point of view that was both innocent and terribly lucid at times, in its ability to feel the raw intensity of events.
* The convincing narrative. I felt that the events unfolding in the story might indeed have happened, have been possible. It’s not totally far-fetched, on the contrary. And that’s precisely what makes it frightening.

What I liked less:
* The rushed half-assed end, and the impersonal way in which it was told. I found it really jarring, compared to the narrative style in the rest of the novel.
* Actually, Roth could’ve gone further with this story, and do more with it than (view spoiler)
* The fact that past that point, the author seemed to have lost sight of what exactly he was aiming at.

Yzabel / July 2, 2012

Review: Angels In America

Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes by Tony Kushner

My rating: [rating=5]

Funny how things go. Four years ago, I just couldn’t push myself to read these plays. And now I’ve just breezed through them in a fascinated haze, barely able to put the book down when it was time to do something else. I can’t really explain it, why and how it made me react in a such a way.

It’s not an easy read, in that it tackles several contemporary issues—racial issues, homoesxuality, AIDS, politics—but also more emotion-centered ones, for want of a better expression (abandonment & coming home, love, the fear of death and ineluctability…). Yet at the same time, the words just seem to flow, invested with a life of their own, carrying those themes with the visions they evoke (I read some parts aloud, too; no play for me is meant to remain on paper only). Even the comical moments aren’t played for silly laughs, but convey something to think about.

And even without that: it’s simply beautifully written.