books Archives - Page 52 of 64

Yzabel / February 14, 2014

Review: Les Enfants de l’Ô

(Review in French, since it concerns a French book.)

Les Enfants de l’Ô by Vanessa du Frat

My rating: [rating=5]

Résumé:

Alia, 2340

Un étrange signal apparaît sur les écrans de surveillance ECO. Ludméa, jeune stagiaire envoyée sur le terrain pour chercher son origine, se retrouve en pleine tempête, au cœur de la forêt de Gonara. L’affaire semble intéresser de près Ruan Paso, directeur adjoint des départements militaires pour la recherche scientifique, un homme plein de secrets.

Terre, 2066

Les jumeaux Line et Lúka tentent de survivre sous le joug d’un père violent, obsédé par ses manipulations génétiques. Leur existence triste et routinière est chamboulée le jour où Lúka désobéit aux ordres en laissant s’évader un sujet d’une importance capitale… ce qui ne restera pas sans conséquences pour le futur.

Les Enfants de l’Ô nous fait voyager entre deux mondes, deux époques et nous fait découvrir les destins croisés de personnages énigmatiques. Mêlant saga familiale, drame psychologique et science-fiction, ce premier tome pose les jalons d’une série qui s’annonce captivante.

Critique:

Cette critique est un peu délicate à écrire, car j’admets avoir une relation toute spéciale avec ce roman, que j’ai connu pour la première fois fin 2006, alors qu’il était encore publié sur internet. Cette version-là était différente de celle que j’ai à présent entre les mains, mais le gros des éléments qui la constituaient, et que j’appréciais à l’époque, est toujours là… et je l’aime toujours autant.

LEO (j’abrégerai le titre de cette manière) est avant tout une histoire de psychologie, sur fond de science-fiction. Si la SF n’est pas votre fort, vous pourrez tout de même apprécier le roman — tout comme les éléments SF qui y sont présents pourront vous plaire si vous êtes un(e) lecteur (lectrice) plus chevronné dans ce domaine. Il est également assez spécial, dans ce sens où il fait véritablement partie d’une saga: vous ne trouverez pas dans ce premier tome une histoire à peu près complète, et dans les suivants d’autres histoires complètes, avec des personnages récurrents d’un volume à l’autre. Au contraire, l’ouvrage soulève peut-être bien plus de questions à la fin qu’il n’apporte de réponses, chose qui peut soit agacer, soit faire trépigner d’impatience – tout dépend de quel type de lecteur vous êtes.

Ce début de saga se déroule principalement en deux lieux et deux époques différentes: Alia en 2340, une planète qui semble être une colonie, et dont les habitants sortent tout juste d’une guerre avec une planète rivale; et la Terre en 2066. Cinq personnages principaux se partagent la vedette: d’un côté Ludméa et Ruan sur Alia, de l’autre les jumeaux Line et Lúka sur Terre; au milieu, Lyen, arrachée à sa famille alors qu’elle n’était qu’une enfant, destinée à ne mettre au monde des bébés que pour mieux se les voir arracher, dans le cadre d’expériences génétiques menées par le père des jumeaux. Tout ce petit monde est lié par bien des secrets, dont certains se dévoilent de façon très subtile, et d’autres sont tout juste esquissés, voués à n’être pleinement révélés que plus tard.

Par ailleurs, tous semblent également partager, que ce soit en tant qu’acteurs ou victimes, un curieux Don, jamais exactement nommé, mais dont les effets se précisent peu à peu – et rarement à de bonnes fins. Ce Don leur permet d’échapper aux conséquences d’actions qui autrement auraient dû leur coûter cher… mais pour combien de temps? Un conseil: faites bien attention aux tout petits détails à ce niveau…

LEO se déroule surtout en huis-clos étouffants (la zone de quarantaine sur Alia, le Laboratoire sur Terre), qui permettent par là même de mettre d’autant mieux en lumière les différentes psychés en présence. Les personnages sont constamment confrontés les uns aux autres en des lieux dont ils ne peuvent s’échapper; ne peuvent échapper ni à eux-mêmes, ni au regard des autres; et si de beaux sentiments parviennent à s’y développer, d’autres, plus noirs, prennent également le pas. Les thèmes abordés traitent en effet de certains aspects assez sombres de la psyché humaine: domination, dissimulation, hypocrisie, couples brisés, lâcheté, voire inceste et meurtres (dans de tels lieux, quoi de surprenant à ce qu’un drame survienne?). Bien qu’ils essayent souvent de se voiler la face, ces mêmes personnages n’y parviennent pas toujours, et les excuses qu’ils se trouvent n’en sonnent que plus faux, ne font que montrer encore plus à quel point ils sont complexes, pleins de défauts autant que de potentiel. C’est pour moi une facette fort appréciable de cet ouvrage qui, en filigrane, les dévoile tels qu’ils sont. Il frappe de plus par moments avec une précision clinique: pas de scènes sanguinolentes gratuites, mais des actions chirurgicales, nettes, précises, à l’impact plus fort de par l’économie de descriptions.

Un autre aspect intéressant que je pense devoir noter: le rôle des femmes dans ce roman. Contrairement à un certain nombre d’ouvrages où les personnages féminins nous sont présentés comme “forts” alors qu’ils sont en fait “bridés”, ici, c’est l’inverse qui semble se passer. Lyen: prisonnière, violentée, violée dans son corps comme dans son esprit. Line: enfermée dans le laboratoire, son frère étant son seul contact avec le monde extérieur. Ludméa: l’intruse, dans un centre de recherches empli de militaires aussi bien que dans une relation qui autrement aurait été censée bien se passer. Ylana: belle, intelligente, génie de la microbiologie, mais exhibée comme une sorte de trophée. Et pourtant, on se rend compte au fil de l’histoire que ces femmes à première vue “simplistes” sont peut-être bien vouées à être les plus fortes, celles qui contrôlent tout en arrière-plan, celles par qui les véritables changements et révélations surviendront… avec tous les chamboulements que cela implique.

Si ces thèmes quelque peu crus vous rebutent, si vous préférez des histoires riches en scènes d’actions, ou encore de la science-fiction de type hard science, LEO ne vous conviendra sans doute pas. Par contre, si les paradoxes temporels, les histoires d’amour tordues, les manipulations génétiques et/ou virales, ou encore les pouvoirs étranges vous intéressent, dans ce cas, il n’y a pas à hésiter.

Yzabel / February 13, 2014

Review: By Blood

By Blood by Tracy E. Banghart

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

For 17-year-old Emma Wong, spending a summer in England should be a dream come true. Gorgeous scenery? Check. Lots of hot guys with accents? Yes, please.

Throw in an estranged mom, annoying new stepdad, and drooling baby half-brother, and it’s a disaster even her favorite cherry red leather jacket can’t fix. Even worse, there’s (hot) live-in research assistant Josh to contend with. The only thing more embarrassing than drunk-kissing him hours after they meet? Knowing he’ll be witness to her family’s dysfunction all. summer. long.

But when Emma meets a mysterious girl who happens to be a Druid, her vacation suddenly promises to be far more intriguing than she anticipated. Powerful rituals, new friends, an intoxicating sense of freedom…and Simon, the sexy foreign stranger she was hoping for. It’s all a perfect distraction from dirty diapers and awkward family dinners.

Trouble is, intriguing doesn’t often mean simple. And Emma is about to discover just how not simple her life really is.

By Blood is a novel about the ways that blood can bind us to others – or tear us apart.

Review:

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

2.5 stars. I enjoyed parts of this novel, while others seriously grated on my nerves. It wasn’t a bad story; it contains its share of good elements, only I may have read it at a moment when the ones I didn’t like bothered me more than in other circumstances.

I liked the idea of Druids-related beliefs, and how they were introduced into the story. On the one hand, Emma seemed to join in a little too easily; on the other, she was confused, had to leave her country, learnt some troubling things about her family, and it made sense that she’d want a place, a group of people to belong to. In that, the author did a fairly believable job. 17 is still an age at which you can be impressed by many things (hah, you can be that even later in life, after all), and some of her mistakes are somewhat understandable. Not to mention that the girl who introduced her to the whole thing was bubbly and likeable.

Another thing I found nice enough, although it took too much time to my liking to happen, was how Emma grew up somehow throughout the story. She started as an insufferable, self-centered person, and I must admit her tantrums sometimes made me roll her eyes and think “can we stop now?” However, in the end, she opens up and becomes more accepting, more mature. She drops the bratty attitude, and this is good.

What I really didn’t like:
* For someone who grew up with a cop father, who took and even taught self-defence classes, I found her too gullible and too prone to putting herself in tricky situations. I’ve never attended such classes, but I suppose one of the things they teach you there is how to avoid putting youself in dangerous situations for starters. At least, this seems logical to me. Emma, on the other hand, seemed to seek those, which totally clashed with how she was portrayed at the very beginning of the novel. Being confused should only take you so far.
* It was too heavy on the drama. I may have enjoyed this if I had been younger (I imagine it would ‘speak’ to a lot of teenagers, since those are the years when a lot of us feel rejected—sometimes justifiably so, sometimes not). But it leant a little too much towards woe-is-me moments. For instance, she gets the only small, closet-sized room in the house while her baby brother and basically everyone else get a gorgeous one. It may not seem like much, but considering her overall circumstances, the latter were enough for me to understand her unease; no need for more.
* Love triangle, good boy/bad boy. Predictable.

Yzabel / February 6, 2014

Review: Stiltskin

Stiltskin by Andrew Buckley

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

What would you do if you found an evil dwarf in your bathtub?

In Robert Darkly’s case you scream like a girl… and then you get taken on a journey to an entirely different world living just on the other side of our own reality; a world where fairy tales are real but not in the way we’ve come to expect them.

The aforementioned dwarf, Rumpelstiltskin, has escaped the Tower prison of Thiside determined to finish the sinister plot he started so many years ago.

Robert Darkly, oblivious that he is the son of the Mad Hatter, must partner with the mysterious ‘Agency’ to pursue Rumpelstiltskin across our world and the world of Thiside and uncover the treacherous secret that threatens to throw both realities into eternal chaos.

Review:

(I received an ebook copy from NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

2.5 stars.

While the idea of retelling fairy tales and/or making them bastardised versions of darker truths is nothing new in itself, I think Andrew Buckley did a good job in building his world. In this world, nothing is as bright and pure as we were led to believe as children, and Robert Darkly is going to discover it fast. Some were thiefs; some were murderers; some were imprisoned in the Tower, or died, while others managed to remain at large; but all characters from those “tales” lived much different lives in Thiside than human people remember them in Othaside.

I had no problems when it came to imagining Thiside and its twisted landscapes, nor to appreciating the various twists made on stories: the author made the latter seem almost logical, in a convoluted way. And darker. Much darker. If it’s happy-ever-afters you’re looking for, it’s not in those versions of the tales you’ll find them. I tend to like this; other readers may not. In any case, this novel is fraught both with darkness and with humour, making the spins strangely amusing; I found myself chuckling more than once, even though some of the events weren’t perceived as such by the characters.

However, at times, said characters seemed a little too bland to my taste. I’m not sure why exactly, I just had the feeling that, while in some parts they came truly alive, in others they were “made for the story”, so to speak. As a result, a few happenings and evolutions had an aftertaste of artificial. (Well, of course a story is artificial, and the ones who people it are just as artificial; I just don’t like feeling it.) In some places, too, the writing wasn’t as polished as in others; for instance, I’d spot a fine sentence next to one full of unneeded (in my opinion, that is) adverbs.

It was an amusing book—and I must say, I loved the ending. I sensed it coming, but only in retrospect: only when it happened did I realise it just couldn’t end in any other way. I’ll remember the story and the atmosphere more than the characters, though.

Yzabel / January 31, 2014

Review: Savor

Savor by Kate Evangelista

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

See this post.

Review:

(I was given an e-copy of this book by the author, in exchange for an honest review.)

Having reviewed Taste a couple of years ago, I was intrigued by the premise of this novel, wondering how it tied into it, and what role would the characters play in it. I’ll get back to this at the end of my review, but for the moment, I’d simply advise that: if you haven’t read the “prequel” yet, it’s probably best not to do it right now, and focus on Savor instead.

I’m going to start with one problematic thing for me: sometimes I thought the story was going too slowly. It’s nothing too definite, just a feeling I had. Perhaps because of some of the descriptions? But then, I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with descriptions—and in a paradoxical way, I can appreciate a detailed description while still finding it too long. Don’t ask.

On the other hand, those make the photo shoots very easy to picture, and in turn, you realise they must be absolutely gorgeous. At the end of each shoot, I wished I could see Dakota’s photos IRL.

I liked Dakota as a protagonist. She’s the right amount of sassy, refuses to be victimised and behave like a victim, in spite of what happened to her, she doesn’t wallow in safe-pity, and she does her best to place the job she wants to do first… although the temptations around her are pretty strong. She’s not perfect, and has her shortcomings. There’s that one scene, for instance, where Luka does to her what she did to him before, and she flips out because it’s unacceptable to her: double standard alert. However, she also realises that her reaction is unfair, acknowledges it, which made her likeable again after that, uh, unglorious episode. (I really don’t do well with double standards.)

The other characters: they all had their little quirks. I really liked Dray and his “fact of the day” attitude, which was funny and ador(k)able. I wish we had known more about Calixta, though. She seemed to have the part of “the one who resents the new arrival in the family”, but I didn’t really understand why. Was it just instant dislike the way, well, the way it sometimes happens in real life? Or something else? (If the latter, then it wasn’t too clear.)

The mysterious aspects: very lightly spread throughout the story. You have to pay attention and not miss them. Once I reached the ending, I started to think in retrospect: “OK, so maybe this and that part actually hinted to that, I must check and re-read those.” Personnally, I like when I find myself having to do that.

The romance itself: if you like this genre, you’ll probably enjoy it. There’s a rather twisted edge to it, but the characters are aware of it, and I didn’t feel like they were trying to make excuses, or to pretend everything was perfectly OK. I much prefer when they face the potential consequences, rather than when they’re presented as perfect models but are in fact pompous self-righteous judgmental people. There’s not mistaking it here: something fishy’s going on, we know it, they know it, and I didn’t feel myself cheated like I did with many other romance stories.

The writing: I found it more mature than in the previous book I read from this author. (In that book, I thought she used a lot of weird similes; it’s not the case here.)

One thing that confused me highly, but that I won’t hold against the story nor the author because, frankly, I just didn’t do my research about it, didn’t read her blog or whatever; maybe this was explained somewhere, maybe not. I’m mentioning it because others might have felt the same, but I want to make one thing clear: this is because I read Taste first. It doesn’t bear in any other way on Savor, and the latter is enjoyable regardless. Heavy spoiler ahead. I’m confused about the way both stories are linked: is Taste a real prequel, or is “The Vicious Feast” series a sort of alternate universe follow-up? Several elements didn’t seem to match. In the “prequel”, we learn that the whole band, except Phoenix, is from another race, and they’re several centuries old; however, Dakota finds a photo album with pictures of them as kids, which prompted me to wonder. Were those fake, touched-up pictures—in which case, shouldn’t Dakota be able to tell, considering her own experience? Or is there something else altogether to the story? Also, why is Calixta working with them? How did things change between them? However, I’m saying it again: I didn’t check with the author; nowhere in the blurb does she say that it’s a direct follow-up to Taste; and this doesn’t detract from one’s enjoyment of Savor. This is just me having perhaps missed something, since I didn’t read the book all at once, and not always in conditions favouring focus.

Conclusion: I’m giving it 3.5 to 4 stars. A little too slow at times for my taste, but with beautiful descriptions and ideas for the photos, and an interesting protagonist, flawed in a believable way.

Yzabel / January 6, 2014

Review: A Study In Ashes

A Study in Ashes by Emma Jane Holloway

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

As part of her devil’s bargain with the industrial steam barons, Evelina Cooper is finally enrolled in the Ladies’ College of London. However, she’s attending as the Gold King’s pet magician, in handcuffs and forbidden contact with even her closest relation, the detective Sherlock Holmes.

Not even Niccolo, the dashing pirate captain, and his sentient airship can save her. But Evelina’s problems are only part of a larger war. The Baskerville Affair is finally coming to light, and the rebels are making their move to wrest power from the barons and restore it to Queen Victoria. Missing heirs and nightmare hounds are the order of the day—or at least that’s what Dr. Watson is telling the press.

But their plans are doomed unless Evelina escapes to unite her magic with the rebels’ machines—and even then her powers aren’t what they used to be. A sorcerer has awakened a dark hunger in Evelina’s soul, and only he can keep her from endangering them all. The only problem is… he’s dead.

Review:

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

A pretty interesting ending to the plots in this series (and probably the beginning to another arc), that ties up all elements together, and have they all meet on the final “battlefield” of London, if I may say so.

However, while I appreciated this novel, I thought it lost itself, compared to what was developed in the first volume. As a steampunk-themed story, it was enjoyable, but I felt as if its initial spark had died down somewhere along the way. The potential for mystery and investigation I expected from Evelina (as well as from Holmes’ presence) kind of took the back-burner. Evie was more passive, in a way, going through events more as a victim than as a strong person; granted, she’s been through quite a few hardships, and those had to take their toll, and yet, in spite of the understanding she gained from them, I thought she was somewhat… diminished. In a weird way (weird, because those were things I had enjoyed in A Study In Silks), this time the detective/mystery aspect was feeble and unneeded. Had it been a different setting, with Holmes left out, I might actually have found this story better, more able to stand on its own two feet.

I also can’t make up my mind about the Imogen subplot. It was like a side-story, related to the main plot through the characters, but not bearing any weight on the main events. I kept having the nagging feeling that at some point, the author hadn’t been sure what to do with Imogen anymore, except having her tag along, and gave her a new part for her and Poppy to have something to do. Only that part was mostly disconnected from the others.

On the other hand, I quite enjoyed Alice, who turned out to be the person I hoped the indeed was. I wished she would’ve had a more important role.

Consider it at 2.5 stars for now. Maybe I’ll knock it the extra half-star later on. Right now, I’m still bothered by the way some of its plots were tackled.

Yzabel / December 25, 2013

Review: Dead Beautiful

Dead Beautiful by Yvonne Woon

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

After Renee Winters discovers her parents lying dead in California’s Redwood Forest in what appears to be a strange double murder, her grandfather sends her off to Gottfried Academy in Maine, a remote and mysterious high school dedicated to philosophy, “crude sciences,” and Latin: the Language of the Dead. It’s here she meets Dante, a dark and elusive student to whom she feels inexplicably drawn.

As they get to know each other better, Dante can’t seem to control his attraction either, and their desires gradually deepen into a complex and dangerous romance. Dangerous because Dante is hiding a frightening secret. A secret so terrible, it has him fearing for Renee’s life.

Dante’s not the only one with secrets, though. Turns out Gottfried Academy has a few of its own… Like, how come students keep disappearing? Why are the prefect-like Monitors creeping around campus during the night? And what exactly are the Headmistress and Professors really up to? Renee is determined to find out why.
Dead Beautiful is both a compelling romance and thought-provoking read, bringing shocking new meaning to life, death, love, and the nature of the soul.

Review:

(I got an ebook version of this novel through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I don’t know whether to give it 2 or 3 stars. Some parts I liked, some I found OK, some were a little dumb in my opinion.

I must say I really liked the atmosphere in this novel: the boarding school and its odd rules, the Gothic feeling, beautiful buildings… All of this surrounded with a veil of mystery, strange behaviours from some of the characters, and bits of foreshadowing that clicked pretty well once the story reached the moments when they made sense. I also liked the “mythology” behind it all: what happened to the children, the role of the Monitors, and why the school was built. It was a somewhat different take on death than what I’ve read up until now.

The pacing lacked in the first half of the book: I think a few chapters could’ve been condensed without the mystery being lessened. Things picked up by chapter 10, which was too far in the story to my liking (and they happened a little too fast in the end, with the explanation dropped on me rather too suddenly). Descriptions helped set the atmosphere, indeed, but after a while, I was starting to wonder when the main character would finally get it—or, rather, when she would actually take useful steps and ask the right questions to the right people.

My main problem with this novel were the characters. The insta-love between Renée and Dante was explained (and easy to foresee, come to think of it), so it bothered me less here than it usually does. However, I found their relationship too basic, too superficial, and I would’ve appreciated seeing more development here. As it was, it didn’t really feel right with the ending. And, as mentioned above, I expected more action from Renée, more investigating; she looked like she could’ve been so much more, yet wasn’t exploited to her full potential. Instead, she remained too vain.

I guess I’m going to file this novel in my list of “OK books”. I cared enough to keep on reading, but I’ll probably forget about it fast.

Yzabel / December 21, 2013

Review: Daughter of Camelot

Daughter of Camelot by Glynis Cooney

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Filled with terrific suspense and budding romance, Daughter of Camelot is a fast paced adventure set against the turmoil at the end of the Arthurian era.

Raised in the shadow of a fort dedicated to training Knights of the Round Table, Deirdre thirsts for adventure.

Instead, at 14, she is sent to court to learn the etiquette and talents of a young woman.

Court life, however, is more fraught with danger than she expected, and Deirdre finds herself entangled in a deadly conspiracy that stretches deep into the very heart of Camelot.

All Deirdre thought she knew and believed in—loyalty, love, bravery—is challenged when she embarks on a quest to defy Fate and save the King.

Review:

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

I usually like stories revolving around Arthurian legends, and there were good elements in this book, but I had a hard time getting into this one. I think it was a combination of weird happening and incoherences regarding the main character, with some editing problems in the middle. (NB: I’m not sure if the copy I got was an ARC or the finished product, considering when I got it and the officiel publishing date. If it wasn’t an ARC, then there are definitely quite a few time shifts to get rid of—the narrative is mostly in the past tense, so whenever present tense pops up, it’s jarring. It also seemed to me that the story was first written in 3rd person, then turned to 1st person, and that a couple of sentences from the previous version remained.)

The main idea, that of a twin sister deciding to fight Fate and help King Arthuer, was in itself interesting—especially considering her reputation as a “witch”, because twins are considered as bad omens in such a world, and she indeed displays a few features reminiscent of druidism rather than the “new” Christian religion. Besides, I like my girl characters strong and willing to live their lives on their own terms. Unfortunately, I’m not sure this is what really happened here.

I found several things to be too incoherent to my liking. The historical mish-mash, for starters. Arthurian literature being what it is, of course I don’t expect exact history, but I have a hard time seeing “Druidism vs. Christian beliefs” and “knights in shiny armour” put in the same time period. Most of the Arthurian retellings I read and liked settled on one or the other (Chrétien de Troyes’s French stories, for instance, place Arthurian chivalry against a backdrop of 13th century Middle Ages and Christian times; while other books place Arthur as a chief in older times, with people and customs also fitting such times). It’s probably a silly argument on my part, and I’ll file it as something being really specific to me here.

What I couldn’t wrap my mind around, though, was how Deirdre was portrayed. On the one hand, we have a fiery girl who’s learnt to fight with swords and bows, can ride like men do, doesn’t hesitate to wear breeches, wants to lead her own fights… and this is all very well. On the other hand, though, she regularly displays childsh attitudes and naive behaviours that clash with that image that I felt the author wanted to convey, and made her character inconsistent. For instance, the first time she’s at court, she falls way too easily for “the knight”. All right, she’s “only” 14, but in such a time of turmoil, and in such societies, this just wasn’t the equivalent of 14 in our world: girls would likely have been more savvy in many things at that age. I was surprised that nobody actually prepared Deirdre to life at court, except for a few pieces of advice from Nia (who basically had to get out of her way to apologise for her younger sister’s blunders… every day or so). I also couldn’t help but question some decisions Deirdre made, like accepting an invitation when she knew it would’ve reflected wrongly on her.

Now, it wasn’t a bad story. It still kept me interested enough to finish it, and I liked some of the other characters, like Dewey and Sioned, who each have their own story, their own views on the world, and try to do what they can to better their situations. But I’ll still leave it in my “just OK” rather than in the “I liked it” section.

Yzabel / December 18, 2013

Review: Words Wound

Words Wound: Delete Cyberbullying and Make Kindness Go Viral by Justin W. Patchin

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Cyberbullying among teens happens every day. Harsh words and damaging photos exchanged through texts, email, or social media can result in humiliation, broken friendships, punishment at school, and even legal prosecution. In some cases, online harassment has contributed to suicide. Faced with this frightening problem, parents, educators, and teens are looking for information and advice. But few cyberbullying resources speak to teens themselves.

Written by experts in cyberbullying prevention and reviewed by teens, this book provides strategies for dealing with teenage bullying happening online—such as saving a screenshot of hostile Facebook posts as evidence—as well as for those who have taken part in bullying others. It also presents ways for teens to make their schools and their communities kinder places that are free from online cruelty. This book gives teens the tools they need to keep themselves and others safe.

Review:

(I was given a digital copy of this book through NetGalley, in axchange for an honest review.)

“Words Wound” was a fairly interesting read. As it delves into the topic of cyberbullying (with some forays into what bullying itself is), it offers a lot of insights about what might drive some people to cause such problems to others, and about what one can do to stop such behaviours. The authors clearly speak to a teenage audience, with words easy to understand, yet never taking this audience for idiots either. They encourage readers to take a stand, to show kindness to those who’re in trouble, and/or to voice out their issues to friends and adults if they’re the ones being bullied.

An excellent thing about this book is that it gives some really good advice on technology- and internet-related behaviours. For instance, it enforces the point that when bullied, one shouldn’t react out of anger, because then the bullies themselves could turn the blame on the victims. On the contrary, the authors hand out several tips and solutions: how to take screenshots and gather evidence, among other things, so that one can then feel more confident to bring the matter to an adult. (After all, one of the biggest fears in such cases is to be called a liar, told that you’re “overreacting”, just because the other person doesn’t really get what’s happening.) They also tell how to protect one’s data and privacy on the internet—something that is actually worth for everybody, not only for younger ones. While this latter part may seem evident to some of us, I bet a lot more people actually are at risk (letting access to their phones or computers to others, forgetting to sign out of an account, etc.).

Overall, the book carries a very positive message, also giving examples of teenagers and young adults who stood up for their friends or even for some pupils they didn’t know, by creating associations within schools, organising awareness campaigns, and using internet tools to spread the word, thus showing that such tools can be used for good, too. It tells you: “you’re not alone, you can do something, and there are actually more wonderful people than idiots out there.”

Yzabel / December 17, 2013

Review: Steampunk Omnibus

Steampunk Omnibus by Michael Coorlim

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

The Steampunk Omnibus is a collection of the best-selling titles from the Collected Bartleby and James Adventures and the Gentlewoman’s Chronicles anthologies of steampunk mystery and thriller fiction. These seven stories build a world of Edwardian adventure in a galvanic century.

Review:

(Book provided by the author through ARR #1688 in the Making Connections group, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 to 4 stars for this book. I definitely advise anyone wanting to discover Michael Coorlim’s alternate Victorian world to do so through this omnibus: separately, the stories might seem a little too short, but put together, they form a larger web, whose threads interconnect one narrative after the other. You can also tell that each story gets better than the other, reflecting the author’s work in that regard, and this is a process I always find interesting.

The first five stories focus on Alton Bartleby and James Wainwright, two consulting detectives who took a page from Sherlock Holmes and use their complementary talents and skills to solve the mysteries thrown in their way. The last three star Aldora Fiske, who lacks neither courage nor resources. All three face various threats with guts and smart minds, and their adventures are an equal mix of action and late Victorian/early Edwardian decorum. And if you’re careful enough, you might even read between the lines quite a few darker revelations.

While Alton is delightful in his manners, and James is quite the badass engineer, I especially liked Aldora’s parts, for the added conundrum of having to behave like a lady, when all she wants is to be herself—the reason behind her little arrangement with Alton, in order for her to preserve as much freedom as possible without alienating society. This, for me, accounted for what I thought at first like too fickle a mind regarding other male characters, but turned to be, in fact, quite logical, her engagement being more for show (although there’s no doubt Alton and Aldora are good friends no matter what).

The one thing I’d really hold against these stories were their length: some parts, in my opinion, would have fared better with a little more development (especially in the Alton & James stories, in fact). Those “missing details” might be addressed in other, individual stories that aren’t in this omnibus, though, in which case reading them could prove useful. As it stands, they were just the little thing that I kept on looking for, and couldn’t find. Overall, though, this omnibus was a really pleasant read.

Yzabel / December 3, 2013

Review: Solomon the Peacemaker

Solomon the Peacemaker by Hunter Welles

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Vincent Alan Chell is coy about answering the questions of his captor. He’d much rather talk about his dead wife, Yael, whose suicide somehow led him into captivity. Or Preacher, the bearded leader of a cult-like group that meets in the bowels of a church basement. Or the Peacemaker, the computer intelligence that has guaranteed peace between nations for half a century.

Chell describes a world where cultural norms have changed the way people interact with technology. Humanoid robots, though ubiquitous, are confined inside private homes, giving the impression that all is well with the world. Which may be the case. Yet Preacher and his group are convinced that humankind is already in the thrall of the Peacemaker. And they might be right.

Solomon the Peacemaker, Hunter Welles’s debut novel, explores the limits of technology, nonviolence, love, and memory in the twenty-second century as it races to its incredible conclusion.

Review:

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

I was first attracted by the cover, which matches both my love of red/white/black colour schemes and made me wonder what about the character on it (is she connected to something, or does she have a rope around her neck?). The novel also deals with a few themes that usually interest me: how technology can affect human life, people voluntarily putting on blindfolds, and a character who, being captive, may or may have not committed some kind of crime.

It’s worth saying that Solomon the Peacemaker is particular, and is probably of the make-it-or-break-it kind. First because it unfolds in a somewhat unusual manner, in that the captor’s questions are never printed, and you have to fill in the blanks yourself, resulting in either liking it or feeling that this “breaks” your reading. After the first few pages, time for me to get used to this method, Chell’s “dialogue” parts made it easy to imagine what the questions might have been, how the interrogator may have been trying to lead him to answer specifically, and so on. However, while it worked quite well for me, it may not work for someone else. Things may also be a little confusing, since a lot of background information isn’t known, and you have to piece everything together. Due to the question/answer format, too, the narrator relies on a bit of exposition bordering on information-dumping, and this tends to force the story into more telling than showing.

But this is in the beginning, and after a short while, diving into the story became actually quite easy, as it focuses on characters, their relationships, and concepts that already exist in our time: Preacher’s cult-like church, for instance, or the hardships that can befall a marriage. Vincent tells about his life with Yael, of how their common aspirations started to differ after a while, and all the while, the Peacemaker remains looming in the background, unaware of how involved it is, how many unspoken dissensions it creates. The idea of peace being maintained across the whole world by an artificial intelligence is both fascinating and repelling, in that it raises many questions: are human beings so unable to do that by themselves that they have to resort to a machine? Is there even any hope? Also, the matter of the Host is freaky, and makes one wonder about individual sacrifice for the greater good.

I found a few things to be missing, although I suppose that including them might have cluttered the narrative. I would’ve liked to know more about the Outside, and whether is was as dangerous as the people “inside” believed it to be. I managed to make my own idea about it, but somehow, it would have been nice to get just a little more information about it. On the other hand, the whole context—the interrogation room, Chell’s knowledge that he’ll never get out of there without his brain picked apart, and his calm acceptance of this, fits the dystopian side of a world that appears perfect, yet is built on a lot of hypocrisy and damage kept hidden from public view (again, the Host comes to mind).

In the end, in spite of the couple of faults I found with it (usually, telling vs. showing is a breaker for me, but here I didn’t mind so much), Solomon the Peacemaker kept me fascinated until its conclusion. An expected conclusion, perhaps, yet one that still held quite some impact.