Yzabel / February 18, 2020

Review: Why We Can’t Sleep: Women’s New Midlife Crisis

Why We Can't Sleep: Women's New Midlife CrisisWhy We Can’t Sleep: Women’s New Midlife Crisis by Ada Calhoun
My rating: ★★★☆☆

Blurb:

When Ada Calhoun found herself in the throes of a midlife crisis, she thought that she had no right to complain. She was married with children and a good career. So why did she feel miserable? And why did it seem that other Generation X women were miserable, too?

Calhoun decided to find some answers. She looked into housing costs, HR trends, credit card debt averages and divorce data. At every turn, she saw a sandwiched between the Boomers and the Millennials, Gen X women were facing new problems as they entered middle age, problems that were being largely overlooked.

Speaking with women across America about their experiences as the generation raised to ‘have it all,’ Calhoun found that most were exhausted, terrified about money, under-employed, and overwhelmed. Instead of their issues being heard, they were told instead to lean in, take ‘me-time’ or make a chore chart to get their lives and homes in order.

In Why We Can’t Sleep, Calhoun opens up the cultural and political contexts of Gen X’s predicament and offers solutions for how to pull oneself out of the abyss – and keep the next generation of women from falling in. The result is reassuring, empowering and essential reading for all middle-aged women, and anyone who hopes to understand them.

Review:

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

A hit in some ways, a miss in others for me.

I am technically a Gen-Xer, after all, and have been curious about what it’s like for other people—what it’s like, hitting your forties? Are their experiences the same as mine? Am I even experiencing the frightful middle-life crisis, or not yet, and how can I tell? The author worked with her own experiences, as well as those of friends, and from research, too, so the result was a good mix, I think, of personal plus scientific/psychological. And it is definitely interesting to see all these experiences, some very close to each other, others pretty varied, all the more since a lot of women I know then to bag it all and have less visibility when it comes to reaching middle-age.

That said, it was also a miss, because a lot of the aforementioned also didn’t resonate with me. (Mostly it’s about cisgender, middle/upper class women.) I identify as agender and aro-ace; I’m not nor do I want to be in a romantic relationship; I don’t have nor do I want children; my background and career path place me much more among millennials than xennials; I never felt the pressure of “having it all” (no family to take care of), I don’t particularly feel “invisible” (I probably am, but I don’t feel it since I’m not interested in romantic love, and I’m enough of a nerd, in a branch where this is desirable, for people to notice me regardless). So, this was all interesting, but in a distanced way. I didn’t relate that much. Is it because I haven’t reached that point yet? Or because my path is different enough that my experience will never be so close to what’s most often depicted here?

I guess I did enjoy this book, although it didn’t particularly “speak” to me. I’d recommend it only to someone who matches that demographic and is interested in a mirror—“I’m not alone and this comforts me”.

P.S. It’s not about how to cure insomnia.

Yzabel / January 30, 2020

Review: Adventures of a Computational Explorer

Adventures of a Computational ExplorerAdventures of a Computational Explorer by Stephen Wolfram
My rating: ★★☆☆☆

Blurb:

Through his pioneering work in science, technology and language design, Stephen Wolfram has developed his own signature way of thinking about an impressive range of subjects. In this lively book of essays, Wolfram takes the reader along on some of his most surprising and engaging intellectual adventures.From science consulting for a Hollywood movie, solving problems of AI ethics, hunting for the source of an unusual polyhedron, communicating with extraterrestrials, to finding the fundamental theory of physics and exploring the digits of pi, Adventures of a Computational Explorer captures the infectious energy and curiosity of one of the great pioneers of the computational world.

Review:

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

I’ve been mulling over this review for a while now, and have to conclude that I’m still pretty much on the fence about this collection of essays and articles.

On the one hand, it makes no doubt that the author is a smart and clever person, with such an insatiable curiosity for a lot of things, and this for his whole life, that in itself, his writing is lifting and passion-inducing. I was absolutely fascinated, with the first essay, where he chronicles his participation to the “Arrival” movie (he was asked to come up with plausible science to use during certain scenes), partly because I liked this movie, and partly because I love physics even though I don’t have an actual scientific background.

On the other hand, there didn’t seem to be any thread truly linking these articles, and I felt more like I was grabbing posts at random from a blog, some of which (like the one above) were really exciting, and some others I had no interest about. (I’ll be very honest and say that I couldn’t care less about his filing system, for instance, or statistics about his e-mail activity habits…) Because of the originally standalone nature of these “chapters”, there was also a lot of repetition and overlap, such as the many mentions to Mathematica and Wolfram|Alpha. Again, on a blog with updates at different times, it’s OK, but as a book, it didn’t work so well. The whole, in the end, felt more “promotional”, where I had expected (and wanted) something that would appeal more to the computer/science geek in me.

Conclusion: 2.5 stars. Had more of the “chapters” been on the level of the first one, I would definitely have liked this collection much more.

Yzabel / January 22, 2020

Review: The Vanished Bride

The Vanished Bride (Brontë Sisters Mystery, #1)The Vanished Bride by Bella Ellis
My rating: ★★★☆☆

Blurb:

The year is 1845, and Emily, Charlotte and Anne Bronte are sat around the dining room table, laughing merrily as the rain of their Yorkshire summer falls outside. When their brother, Branwell, returns from The Bull Inn, he brings with him the most shocking revelation: that Elizabeth Chester, wife of Robert Chester and mistress of Chester Grange has gone missing – but the bloody scene found in her bedroom suggests she may have been murdered.

The governess at Chester Grange is Matilda French, a close friend of Charlotte’s, who resolves to pay her a visit the following day. At Chester Grange, the sisters make the acquaintance of Robert, a rumoured cruel man, who is suspected of having driven his first wife to suicide. Determined that he should be brought to justice, the sisters throw themselves into solving the case.

As everyone knows, solving a murder requires sense, morals and a very good imagination – qualities which these sisters have more than enough of…

Review:

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

I don’t read much cosy mysteries in general, so this was bit of a change of pace for me. Overall, I found it an entertaining read, although it didn’t exactly suck me in like I would’ve hoped. I’m not not entirely sure what, since the style was good, and easily shows that the author is very enthusiastic about the Brontë sisters and their lives (from what I know of them, their background was spot on).

Some of the attitudes/conversations were a little too ‘modern’ in terms of feminist ideas to fully emulate a 19th-century style, but I didn’t find this too jarring, and I enjoyed seeing how the sisters navigated the mystery while having to make the outside world believe they were simple, meek, “angel of the home” parson’s daughters, so as not to attract unwanted attention (and, in turn, be confined or labelled “undignified”).

I did have my ideas about what had really transpired when it came to the murder. That said, they remained hypotheses until well into the story, since the clues were unveiled gradually enough for this to happen. And some of the details were clearly not what would’ve come to mind first. The story also has a few easter eggs that one may or may not find over the top (the “wife in the attic” motif, for instance); personally, I tend to like cameos in general, and having read the Brontë sisters’ novels, I liked seeing those here.

Possibly what didn’t win me over were the sisters’ personalities. I found it a little difficult to tell who was who (without having to refer to the names at the beginning of each chapter). It was strange, for they all had very defining traits (Charlotte as the romantic one, Emily as the “wild” one, and so on), and yet I found it difficult to really tell at the same time.

Conclusion: 3 stars

Yzabel / December 31, 2019

Review: Tiny Habits: The Small Changes That Change Everything

Tiny Habits: The Small Changes That Change EverythingTiny Habits: The Small Changes That Change Everything by B.J. Fogg
My rating: ★★★☆☆

Blurb:

Improving your life is much easier than you think. Whether it’s losing weight, sleeping more, or restoring your work/life balance – the secret is to start small.

For years, we’ve been told that being more healthy and productive is a matter of willpower: that we should follow the latest fad and make constant changes to our lifestyles. But whether in our diets, fitness plans or jobs, radical overhauls never work. Instead we should start with quick wins — and embed new, tiny habits into our everyday routines.

The world expert on this is Silicon Valley legend BJ Fogg, pioneering research psychologist and founder of the iconic Behaviour Design Lab at Stanford. Now anyone can use his science-based approach to make changes that are simple to achieve and sticky enough to last.

In the hugely anticipated Tiny Habits, BJ Fogg shows us how to change our lives for the better, one tiny habit at a time. Based on twenty years research and his experience coaching over 40,000 people, it cracks the code of habit formation. Focus on what is easy to change, not what is hard; focus on what you want to do, not what you should do. At the heart of this is a startling truth — that creating happier, healthier lives can be easy, and surprisingly fun.

Review:

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

I can’t decide if this book taught me a lot, or if, all in all, it was all logical stuff and I already knew it without knowing it. I’d say, it’s both.

In hindsight, it makes a lot of sense and is definitely logical: of course starting with baby steps / tiny habits is much more manageable than gunning for some huge change (hello, New Year Resolutions that 99.5% of people never uphold past the first week, and are basically one huge permission we give ourselves to fail, which is why I’ve stopped making them for years). On the other hand, it all *sounds* easy, but if it *was* so easy, we’d all be doing it naturally in a snap of fingers. And it’s absolutely obvious by now that a lot of people, myself included, are pretty much rubbish at “naturally” starting this kind of thing.

All in all, for me, the book wasn’t ground-breaking in itself—the basic theory was more of a “duh!” moment than anything else. However, the author gives pointers and exercises that seem in general useful, and give ideas to start if the whole thing appears really overwhelming. It’s possibly even more useful for people who tend to approach things with an all-or-nothing mentality, since going “all” with a tiny habit (ex: flossing one tooth) is easy to achieve, leads without too much trouble to doing the rest while we’re at it, but sill consists in a success. (Although, for anyone who’s remotely like me, doing more than you planned for also easily leads to unconsciously viewing the “more” as the only possible way of succeeding, which defeats the purpose. But that’s not what the book tells us to do anyway—that’s a personal pitfall.)

Yzabel / December 15, 2019

Review: Equal: A Story of Women, Men and Money

Equal: A Story of Women, Men and MoneyEqual: A Story of Women, Men and Money by Carrie Gracie
My rating: ★★★★☆

Blurb:

Equal pay has been the law for half a century. But women often get paid less than men, even when they’re doing equal work.

Mostly they don’t know because pay is secret. But what if a woman finds out? What should she do? What should her male colleague do? What should the boss do?

Equal is the inside story of how award-winning journalist Carrie Gracie challenged unequal pay at the BBC, alongside a wider investigation into why men and women are still paid unequally. It’s a book that will open your eyes, fix your resolve and give you the tools to act – and act now.

Review:

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

A very interesting book in many ways, that also takes into account difficulties experienced by more women than just the author herself.

Carrie Gracie is/was obviously in what I’m going to call a “position of power” when this happened to her—in spite of not having equal pay, she still had very high pay (the kind of pay a high majority of people don’t and will never relate to), and in itself, this probably doesn’t invite readers in general to, well, relate (a.k.a “cry me a river, at least you’re not on a zero-hour contract). And I agree that this may easily lead readers, myself included, to see such reads as indeed interesting, but also too far away from most people’s daily reality.

This said, Gracie acknowledged this, and also definitely have a point when she states that, because of her advantages here, she was in a position to raise a dint about pay inequality problems, where women in more precarious jobs, earning much less and unable to get any kind of legal counsel (not to mention representation), wouldn’t have any other choice than either shut up or get fired, and probably end up in very dire straits. And -that- is without a doubt part of the problem: there’s still (too) much pressure applied on women, in too many places, when they don’t have the resources to push back, when even finding information about how to start pushing back is not easily available. If the ones who have enough resources to push back don’t do it, who is left?

After the list of the highest paid BBC employees was made public, Gracie wasn’t the only one who had concerns and was not just a little annoyed at what it revealed. Very interesting were the various “arguments” raised to justify why, as China editor, she didn’t earn as much as the (male) USA editor, such as suddenly mentioning that she was “in development” (after 3 years on the job?) when that had never been raised before. I don’t know how good (or not) she was at the job, but this should definitely not come out of the blue, “what a coincidence”, just after one demands equal pay. In the same way, sure, a company can justify higher salaries being paid to men because they’re more senior in their jobs—but that also begs the question, how come that, “what a coincidence”, those senior roles are still so often offered to (white) men? Obviously, when things are skewed in such a way, then yes, sure, “these salaries are higher.”

It was good to see, too, that many other women at the BBC took part in pushing back. Not all of them had the same resources as Gracie, but they worked together nonetheless to get things to progress. The book clearly acknowledges this, and also delves a little deeper into examples of what can happen in a workplace that tries to hide its pay inequality, how to recognise the signs, how to start the process to fight against it (for instance, the BBC didn’t want Gracie’s statements to be recorded, which led to many times rewritten transcripts—and a lot of wasted time—so this is something to keep in mind). Other examples highlight what men can do to help as well, all the more when they’re themselves in high positions, with high pay, but not only: anyone, at any level, can be an ally. Same for employers.

I’m not always sure about all the figures cited—I admit I didn’t cross-check absolutely everything, and sometimes it’s not always clear what exactly was taken into account (all jobs in a company, regardless of what they are? Or all jobs at the same level in a company?). The advice mentioned is also specific to the UK, so I’m not sure how useful it is for other countries. But at least it provides a basis, which is a good thing.

Yzabel / December 8, 2019

Review: The Black Hawks

The Black Hawks (Articles of Faith, #1)The Black Hawks by David Wragg
My rating: ★★☆☆☆

Blurb:

Life as a knight is not what Vedren Chel imagined. Bound by oath to a dead-end job in the service of a lazy step-uncle, Chel no longer dreams of glory – he dreams of going home.

When invaders throw the kingdom into turmoil, Chel finds opportunity in the chaos: if he escorts a stranded prince to safety, Chel will be released from his oath.

All he has to do is drag the brat from one side of the country to the other, through war and wilderness, chased all the way by ruthless assassins.

With killers on your trail, you need killers watching your back. You need the Black Hawk Company – mercenaries, fighters without equal, a squabbling, scrapping pack of rogues.

Prepare to join the Black Hawks.

Review:

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

A decent fantasy story, although not what I was led to believe it would be—scratch that as another victim of the Misleading Blurb? (What I mean is that, if you sell me fantasy as “hilarious”, I’ll expect something that’ll really make me laugh, like Discworld. Which is not what we have here.) So, yes, please, people who write blurbs, stop doing that; you’re doing these books quite a disservice.

Anyway. As I was saying, the story is “decent”, as in it’s not going to revolutionise fantasy for sure, but remains entertaining. The world-building is on the generic side: easy to understand, no need for pages of exposition about how magic works, etc., and the geopolitics is introduced through events and dialogues.

My problems with this novel are, firstly, the main characters. The prince is pretty much a whiner all along, and not particularly interesting; whether he opened his mouth or not, it was all the same for me. Chel had a more exciting beginning—sworn to someone who basically swindled him out of his heritage through marriage, forced to run errands rather than be an actual knight, and liable to jump into whatever he can find, probably because he’s bored to death. The issue with him, though, is that he ends up wounded fairly early in the story, and stays like that for a while, which means he’s out of commission for anything fighting- or action-related. Add this to the second problem, a.k.a. travel fantasy, which I often have with such stories, and let’s just say it really doesn’t help.

(I don’t review fantasy very often, so I’m not sure I mentioned it in a previous review, but I have a weird relationship with stories where a good deal of the plot is devoted to travelling—and that’s as a writer as well! I got introduced to fantasy precisely through this—LOTR, I’m looking at you—and I keep gravitating towards such stories, yet at the same time, they also tend to bore me easily, because apart from the occasional wolf/bandit/assassin attack in the forest/mountains, not much else is happening. Here, the fight scenes themselves are good, there’s tension and blood and people do get hurt; but what’s in between tended to bore me.)

As for the Black Hawks themselves, they did have their interesting sides as well. Some light is shed on them throughout the story, a lot more mystery remains at the end, to be developed in the next volume(s) I hope, and in general, they were of the (somewhat magnificent) bastard kind, which is something I enjoy: unlikeable as people, yet likeable when it comes to following their antics.

On the other hand, the cliffhanger at the end was not one I appreciated. The twist was surprising (perhaps a little on the cliché side), but the cliffhanger was definitely too abrupt, as if a couple of chapters were missing from the book.

Yzabel / December 5, 2019

Review: Hold Your Tongue

Hold Your Tongue (DI Eve Hunter, #1)Hold Your Tongue by Deborah Masson
My rating: ★★★☆☆

Blurb:

A brutal murder.
A young woman’s body is discovered with horrifying injuries, a recent newspaper cutting pinned to her clothing.
A detective with everything to prove.
This is her only chance to redeem herself.
A serial killer with nothing to lose.
He’s waited years, and his reign of terror has only just begun . . .

Review:

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

I think this is the very first novel set in Aberdeen that I read, which kind of surprises me, since I assume there are plenty of stories set in that city. Since I’ve never visited it either, I had absolutely no idea what it looks like, so I couldn’t rely on my own knowledge of it. We get a few streets’ names to place the action, but not so many that it becomes confusing, and what the city’s areas stand for (posh districts, less savoury places, and so on) is clear and presented concisely. It had a gritty side, and a sometimes stifling atmosphere that went well with the nature of the crime/murder mystery here. On the other hand, I have no idea if the real Aberdeen feels like this. I was under the impression that the setting here, while fitting, was perhaps more generic than anything else (it would’ve worked just as well in Glasgow, Edinburgh, Birmingham or Manchester).

“Hold Your Tongue” deals with DI Eve Hunter getting back to her job after a couple of harrowing events that left her and Sanders, a colleague, heavily wounded—and not only does she have to immediately investigate a series of gruesome murders, but a lot of people aren’t happy to see her back, including other police officers who hold her responsible for what happened to Sanders. While the novel is not entirely clear about the latter point in the first pages, it’s still obvious how much this is weighing on Eve, and her coming to terms with this (psychologically, emotionally and physically) is just as much part of the plot as the murders themselves.

The story comes with plenty of turns and red herrings. These included focusing on a suspect in spite of a lack of clues; gut feelings; and also chapters narrated from the point of view of the killer, spreading little clues here and there, but still vaguely enough as to not make the killer’s identity too obvious from the start—I got close to guessing who it was, but not too close either, which is good for me. At times, I found the characters perhaps too prone on jumping on certain clues or making certain mistakes because of how their own experiences influenced them (for instance, Eve and Ferguson’s strained relationship clearly doesn’t help them keep a straight head); this was partly understandable, and partly cast a shadow on them, in that it made them look less professional in such moments.

I liked that some of the tension gets resolved in this first volume in the series, but not other things (Eve’s origins and how they may colour her future take on life, or how the killer’s actions will weigh on her team in general). This was a good introduction to Eve and her partners, hinting at more depth—although I regret that one of those relationships just can’t be exploited anymore, or not directly, in the following novels.

Conclusion: 3.5 stars. As a first story in a series, it sets the scene and characters well, with a partial resolution only, and therefore more left to explore later on. It was a bit slow in places, though, and could do with just a smidge of plot tightening. I’ll definitely be interested in book 2 no matter what.

Yzabel / November 30, 2019

Review: Body Tourists

Body TouristsBody Tourists by Jane Rogers
My rating: ★★☆☆☆

Blurb:

In this version of London, there is a small, private clinic. Behind its layers of security, procedures are taking place on poor, robust teenagers from northern Estates in exchange for thousands of pounds – procedures that will bring the wealthy dead back to life in these young supple bodies for fourteen days.

It’s an opportunity for wrongs to be righted, for fathers to meet grandsons, for scientists to see their work completed. Old wine in new bottles.

But at what cost?

Review:

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

Interesting theme here: dead, wealthy people being brought to life for a couple of weeks in the bodies of fit, but poor youth for whom this is the only hope of making some kind of money.

There’s a lot to be said here in terms of morals and ethics, some on the religious front, and some not. In itself, this is ground for deeper discussion, from the value of money vs. one’s body to whether a human being suddenly “reanimated” in a younger body can be trusted with it or will just do whatever, and not care about their “host”, since they go back to being dead after that anyway. One could even argue that the rich are robbing (shall I say “once again”?) other people of something precious, in this case their time and their youth, and potentially more (this is a bit spoiler-ish, but it happens early enough in the novel anyway). Especially since, in the novel’s near future, the discrepancy between the haves and the have-nots has grown even bigger, with “estates” now being entire towns from which their inhabitants just never escape.

The story explores several of these “body tourists”, from different points of view. There’s Octavia, one of the tourists herself; Luke, the scientist in charge of the project; Paula, a host who then has to go back to her life and the aftermath of this experiment; Rick, who wants to bring back his father; and Elsa, a woman whose partner died after a particularly harrowing event in their lives, leaving so much unsaid. Each narrative highlights a different take on the matter when it comes to reflecting on the whole body swapping angle—whether it’s a valid option, or should be banned altogether, or could work but only within a specific framework.

That said, I had a hard time getting into the story itself, in that these narratives don’t seamlessly join each other. Most of the time, I got the feeling that I was reading a collection of short stories forcefully brought together, rather than a complete story. (And for what it’s worth, perhaps it’s actually how it started, before being turned into a novel.) It doesn’t detract from the philosophical aspect, the concept of body tourism itself, but in terms of storytelling, it was jarring in several places, and because of this, a few parts of the various characters’ stories were also glossed over, when they could’ve been interesting to explore as well.

Conclusion: 2.5 stars. I liked the theme, but the story itself fell flat for me.

Yzabel / November 19, 2019

Review: 17 Church Row

17 Church Row17 Church Row by James Carol
My rating: ★★☆☆☆

Blurb:

Three years ago, Ethan and Nikki Rhodes suffered a devastating loss. Their four-year-old daughter Grace was tragically killed when she ran from their garden into the path of a car. Ethan, a radio personality, escapes into work, while Nikki quits her job to care for their remaining child, Grace’s twin sister, Bella, who hasn’t spoken since that night.

Trying to give the family a fresh start, Ethan moves them to a revolutionary house designed by the world-famous architect, Catriona Fisher. For the Rhodes’, this is a life-changing move because a key feature of the house is the state of the art security system that allows them to be completely safe from the outside world within their own home.

But what if what they fear most is actually inside the house? What if 17 Church Row isn’t the safe haven that they think it is?

Review:

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

A pretty interesting premise here: after the death of one of their twin daughters, Nikki and Ethan Rhodes decide to acquire a new revolutionary house, entirely automated and equipped with a virtual assistant named Alice. All this hoping for a new start, for a place where they won’t see memories of their dead daughter everywhere, and for their remaining child, Bella, to finally speak again.

The house itself, I admit, was both super exciting and a dreadful prospect for me. Exciting, because of all the technological gizmos and automation—a house that anticipates your needs, doesn’t that sound great? And at the same time, it -is- also scary, because if anything goes wrong, if the power goes down, well, you’re trapped in there, aren’t you? Which is—no surprise here—what kind of starts to happen, with a few glitches here and there that worry the Rhodes, just as much as they worry the architect of the house, though not for the same reasons.

The first part of the book was less interesting, to be honest, and I think that’s because it took its sweet time to establish the life of the Rhodes, the ‘slice of life’ moments needed for the reader to see how things are going inside the new house. In itself, that was indeed necessary, since how would we care about what happens next if things hadn’t been desperately “normal” before to offer some contrast? Yet at the same time, I didn’t really connect with the Rhodes, perhaps because their life in general, especially Nikki’s, was pretty much so sheltered that the rest of the world might have not existed at all. Wealthy family (they could afford a Tesla and buy 17 Church Row just like that—in London, so I guess they had an oil well stashed under their garden at some point or something?), with Ethan always out working and Nikki alone at home with her child. Bella doesn’t speak, and we don’t really get to know her, apart from her drawing and speaking through her tablet. There were only a few external elements, such as Sofia the cleaner. And while that highlighted Nikki’s isolation when it comes to what happens next, that still made for a sort of bland universe with which the characters could only interact in a bland way, too.

The second part was more interesting, yet also drawn-out and perhaps trying to enforce the point a little too much. Some parts of it were definitely in line with current possibilities and fears related to AI, and some others had moustache-twirling villain vibes that were quite odd here. The ending, too, felt rushed and unsatisfying.

Style-wise, one thing I found really jarring was the cuts between paragraphs. We’d have a paragraph about, say, Nikki thinking of her dead child, and then suddenly the last sentence of the paragraph was “She got up and went to make coffee.” (where I would definitely expect this to be the start of a new paragraph). I don’t know if it’s just me, but it happened regularly throughout the novel, and it felt strange.

Conclusion: Interesting ideas around the theme of artificial intelligence, but it was difficult to connect with (and care about) the characters.

Yzabel / November 13, 2019

Review: The Orphanage of Gods

The Orphanage of GodsThe Orphanage of Gods by Helena Coggan
My rating: ★★☆☆☆

Blurb:

Twenty years ago, the humans came for their gods.

In the bloody revolution, gods were all but wiped out. Ever since, the children they left behind have been imprisoned in an orphanage, watched day and night by the ruthless Guard. Any who show signs of divine power vanish from their beds in the night, all knowledge of their existence denied.

No one has ever escaped the orphanage.

Until now.

Seventeen-year-old Hero is finally free – but at a terrible price. Her sister has been captured by the Guard and is being held in a prison in the northern sea. Hero desperately wants to get her back, and to escape the murderous Guardsmen hunting her down. But not all the gods are dead, and the ones waiting for Hero in the north have their own plans for her – ones that will change the world forever . . .

As she advances further and further into the unknown, Hero will need to decide: how far is she willing to go to do what needs to be done?

Review:

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

It took me ages to get into this book (actually, I did it on my third attempt), and I have no idea why. It wasn’t terrible, the beginning was sort of ‘standard’ (= nothing particularly off-putting), it read easily, there wasn’t anything stylistically bad in here, and there was a good chunk of the novel where I actually wanted to read, once I got past the first chapters. However, in the end, I wasn’t sure what the point really was in terms of the story and the characters’ evolution, and this is the kind of thing that is likely to make me forget ‘The Orphanage of Gods’ fairly soon.

I never connected with any of the characters for starters. Hero was somewhat likeable, but too whiny and dwelling on the same things over and over again. Joshua had no redeeming qualities that I can think of. Kestrel was OK but pretty much thrown in there as a puppet. Raven (who’s the narrator of the middle part, out of three) was supposed to be that super future leader, but she was 10 and didn’t do much (apart from being targeted), so that defeated the whole purpose. Eliza, well… it was very convenient that she could avoid many consequences thanks to her powers. The guards were just depicted as monsters and never anything else, and whenever another god or demi-god was somewhat likeable, they just got out of the picture sooner or later.

(Bonus point for same-gender relationship, which is a nice change; but as usual in such/YA novels, it was insta-love and came out of the blue… so I guess that’s no bonus point, all in all.)

The ending was murky and left me unsatisfied. It felt both unavoidable (it was either that or just offing everyone, I guess) and like a cop-out, because so many things were unresolved at that point.