death Archives - The Y Logs

Yzabel / February 29, 2020

Review: The Companions

The Companions by Katie M. Flynn
My rating: ★★☆☆☆

Blurb:

In the wake of a highly contagious virus, California is under quarantine. Sequestered in high rise towers, the living can’t go out, but the dead can come in—and they come in all forms, from sad rolling cans to manufactured bodies that can pass for human. Wealthy participants in the “companionship” program choose to upload their consciousness before dying, so they can stay in the custody of their families. The less fortunate are rented out to strangers upon their death, but all companions become the intellectual property of Metis Corporation, creating a new class of people—a command-driven product-class without legal rights or true free will.

Sixteen-year-old Lilac is one of the less fortunate, leased to a family of strangers. But when she realizes she’s able to defy commands, she throws off the shackles of servitude and runs away, searching for the woman who killed her. Lilac’s act of rebellion sets off a chain of events that sweeps from San Francisco to Siberia to the very tip of South America in this “compelling, gripping, whip-smart piece of speculative fiction” (Jennie Melamed, author of Gather the Daughters) that you won’t want to end.

Review:

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

A fascinating theme, that ties with certain questions I see raised when it comes to consciousness, AI, and “the cloud”: what if, someday, we found a way to upload human consciousness at or shortly before the moment of death, so that our minds could keep existing on a server, or, in the case here, in artificial bodies? With an added theme in “The Companions”: all these “reborn” humans are actually no more than slaves, being the property of the Metis corporation, leased to people wealthy enough to afford them, and hindered by safeguards so that they remain the, well, obedient little slaves they’re meant to be.

Interesting, right? There are so many things wrong here, starting with the property part, and going on with what happens when the artificial body is damaged, or how memories fare after years spent like that. This is one of the conundrums of Lilac’s existence: now the companion to a teenager named Dahlia, she was murdered as a teenager herself, and keeps her memories alive at first by telling Dahlia her “story”. Up until the day she gets information that the person who killed her is still alive, and realises that, for some reason, her “failsafes” aren’t exactly working.

But.

The narrative itself turned out to be increasingly… random. At first, having Lilac’s perspective to rely on was fairly intriguing, and the additional, other characters’ points of view seemed seamless at first (after Lilac, we get Cam, who works at the place where Lilac goes to find her killer, so that does make sense). However, it quickly became quite muddled, with the characters themselves not leaving much of an impression. In a way, this read at times like a collection of short stories that were trying to form into a novel, and in the end, that made for neither strong short stories nor a strong novel. The overall story, all in all, kept meandering, and never gave the sense of an actual plot/red thread tying everything together.

Conclusion: Good theme, but not particularly well-handled.

Yzabel / February 26, 2019

Review: Louis & Louise

Louis & Louise by Julie Cohen

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

ONE LIFE. LIVED TWICE.

Louis and Louise are the same person born in two different lives. They are separated only by the sex announced by the doctor and a final ‘e’.

They have the same best friends, the same red hair, the same dream of being a writer, the same excellent whistle. They both suffer one catastrophic night, with life-changing consequences.

Thirteen years later, they are both coming home.

A tender, insightful and timely novel about the things that bring us together – and those which separate us.

Review:

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

Interesting concept, but one that could’ve gone further, and didn’t.

The novel tells the story of “Lou”, who in one life was born a girl, and in another a boy, and takes them through events of life that aren’t always the same, nor with the same outcomes, depending on the character’s sex.

I enjoyed the characters in general, whether the main one(s) or their best friend and parents, and the parts of the narrative where they had to come to terms with the impending death of a beloved one: the latter came, in one case, with heavy baggage of secrecy and forgiveness that could potentially not be given, which is always a delicate theme to explore. (Or, at least, it is for me, because it’s never all black and white, and the part of me that feels the character should not forgive constantly clashes with the other part, which isn’t a vindictive one. I’m not a very revengeful person in my own life, after all.)

While it was a quick read for me, and I liked following Lou’s path overall, I wasn’t awed, though. I think I was expecting more out of it: more of the many subtle, day-to-day ways society enforces gender stereotypes, for instance. The novel has some, such as Louise starting to wear contact lenses as a teenager because “you’d be so much prettier without glasses”, or her grandmother chiming in with “ladies don’t do this and later you’ll marry and have children because that’s what girls do”, but those were more tiny bits lost in the narrative. I also felt that some parts resorted to easy shortcuts: the corresponding gender stereotypes for Louis were mostly the oh so typical “are you gay or what” (there are so many other ways gender stereotypes are enforced for boys), and Louise’s “catastrophic night” event was… so expected that I guessed it just from the blurb. (Someone please tell me -that- is not the only dark/striking event a woman can have in her life… I mean, no such event at all would be better, of course, but there are so many other possibilities, and I believe one should’ve been tackled here, instead of resorting to the obvious choice.)

Conclusion: 2.5 stars. It is a pleasant read, one that raises valid points and lends itself to reflection, but for me, it took the easy road, where it could’ve explored so many other paths.

Yzabel / January 30, 2019

Review: Child of Nod

Child of Nod by C.W. Snyder

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Alice wakes one day to find herself on the other side of death, in the corrupted fairy tale land of Nod. Unable to remember much of the events leading to her demise, she sets out on a journey to discover her memory and the reason for her presence in Nod. Unknown to her, the man responsible for her death, Jack, is on a mission to find her spirit and end her second life.

Alice takes flight, only to find herself drawn into the lives of those around her and the mystery permeating that place. From the humble streets of Elysium to the mirrored spires of Memoria, her journey takes her on a path that leads to a decision that will affect the fate of Nod.

Along the way, she meets a cast of characters that include a madman with a dark secret, her faithful companion, Dog, and a woman made of memory. Together, they help her on her journey as she uncovers the truth of Nod and the woman behind it all, the Red Queen.

Review:

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

The story of a late teenager/young woman who finds herself stranded in a strange land, not knowing if she’s alive or dead, “Child of Nod” is sort of a retelling of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, although it gets far enough from it that it’s not -that- close. It also draws on famous fairy tales and on mythology in general, but here, too, more as an inspiration than for full retelling purposes, so that the book stands on its own here. There’s madness, and horror, and memories, and strong imagery (like the Queen of Blades—this one screams to be drawn), and side characters, too, that I found oddly endearing, such as Dog.

The tone is overall quite dark, in that who and what Alice meets are usually not friendly, and even when she meets people who help her, the latter also have their own darkness to contend with: one suffers from leprosy, another is very likely dying from cancer, the Hunter himself didn’t exactly have a shiny childhood, etc. Nod as governed by the Red Queen is clearly not an enchanting place and there’s always something ready to devour something else around the corner. So, not a story for kids.

The story was definitely interesting, but I had trouble at times with the style (some sentences being abrupt and repetitive), and with the pacing. 90% of the book is spent on Alice’s travels through Nod, with brief insights into the lives of a few people she meets along the way, and by comparison, the final scene and the aftermath got very little screentime, and the ending felt rushed. I would’ve preferred something more balanced here, as well as seeing Alice’s journey and the other characters’ stories more solidly interwoven.

Conclusion: 2.5 stars

Yzabel / February 24, 2018

Review: They Both Die At The End

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

My rating: [rating=3]

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

An alternate-world story where a company named Death-Cast informs people of their impending death, and in which a lot of aspects of society are built around this: ‘Deckers’ (those people who got eh alert that they have less than 24 hours left to live) get meals , night club entrance, etc. free; a lot of blogs get devoted to chronicling their last hours, as they go about trying to make the most of what they have left; and an app, Last Friend, allows people to connect so that they’ll be able to spend that time with someone. (It is to be noted that because D-C only announces the day one is meant to die, and not the causes, a lot of Deckers try not to stay with close friends and relatives, in case their death will be due to a terrorist attack, car crash, or any other type of circumstances that could wound those other people.)

The novel follows two teenagers, Rufus and Mateo, as they meet through Last App and get to live their last day together, making memories, becoming friends, realising what they missed on, but also becoming the people they would’ve liked to be—in a somewhat paradoxical twist, in that perhaps they would never have done that, and perhaps never even known who they wanted to be, had they had their whole lives still ahead. I found this story dealt with its themes in a touching but never depressing manner. I would’ve been very miffed indeed if it had been about moping and lamenting; obviously the two boys aren’t happy about it, but they go around trying to make the most of it, trying things they may not have done on their own, and so on.

Of course, as the title explicitly says, the reader knows from the start that they both die at the end, and part of my interest in this was also to find out how they’d die, if it would leave them enough time to grow into that friendship I was promised, and whether events unfolding around them would indeed be the ones leading to their demise, or not.

I enjoyed the characters in general. Mateo’s way of gingerly opening up to braver actions was adorkable. Rufus had the making of a ‘bad boy’ but also revealed he definitely had a heart of gold. How they go about their last day was empowering. And I also liked the minor characters whose point of view I got to see as well. They were diverse (in many ways, including background, ethnicity and sexual preferences—by default I tend to consider every character as bi unless proven otherwise, cheers for Rufus here), and they allowed me to get a glimpse into the other side, what the living had to go through when confronted with the knowledge that their best friend had received the alert, and what D-C employees and related people also get to feel. (I don’t think spending your career as a customer service rep announcing people they’re going to die before tomorrow is very healthy in the long run.)

For some reason, though, I wasn’t a hundred percent invested in the book. To be fair, I suspect that’s partly because I was invested in interesting non-fiction books at the same time, and those demand more focus and attention from me. But I think that was perhaps also because of the theme: very interesting, yet necessarily leading to ‘live your life to the fullest because you’re not immortal’. Which is true, and expected, and because of this, it makes it hard to deal with it in a way that hasn’t been done already. Another thing I wasn’t sold on was the more romantic involvements; I think full-on friendship would’ve worked better for me.

Conclusion: Perhaps not a definite favourite for me, but I’ll happily pick another story by this author in the future.

Yzabel / July 28, 2017

Review: Saint Death

Saint Death by Marcus Sedgwick

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Anapra is one of the poorest neighbourhoods in the Mexican city of Juarez – twenty metres outside town lies a fence – and beyond it – America – the dangerous goal of many a migrant. Faustino is one such trying to escape from the gang he’s been working for. He’s dipped into a pile of dollars he was supposed to be hiding and now he’s on the run. He and his friend, Arturo, have only 36 hours to replace the missing money, or they’re as good as dead. Watching over them is Saint Death. Saint Death (or Santissima Muerte) – she of pure bone and charcoal-black eye, she of absolute loyalty and neutral morality, holy patron to rich and poor, to prostitute and narco-lord, criminal and police-chief. A folk saint, a rebel angel, a sinister guardian.

Review:

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

This is not a happy book, and to be fair, I’m a little unsure why I requested it in the first place, since I’m usually not too keen on reading ‘realistic’ stories (the world is depressing enough as it is). Well, no: I guess I requested it because I like Marcus Sedgwick’s stories, also I met him briefly at a book festival and he was definitely a cool guy. So, yes, I guess there’s that.

And, anyway, I enjoyed the story. Though I should’ve guessed it wouldn’t be a bed of roses for the characters (pay attention to the very first character we meet, too). It is both realistic and haunting—haunted as it is by the presence of Santa Muerte, who may or may not be present, and who can tell, and does it really matter? For the characters believe in her and in her powers, and quickly learn that you must be crazy to try and trick the White Girl.

The story is told in third person point of view, present tense, which I typically enjoy less than past tense for a simple reason: it’s difficult to use, and too many people fail at it. Here, it works, and lends itself to that haunting atmosphere I mentioned previously, making the story somewhat surreal… which, in turn, strengthens its gritty aspects even more.

This isn’t a happy world, and there isn’t much light at the end of the tunnel. Yet this is also a world where one can learn to retain their human dignity, and not give in to the darkness. A world where there are still good people in spite of all the bad ones. It is both hope and sadness—and death, who unites everybody in the end.

Yzabel / April 1, 2017

Review: Waking Hell

Waking Hell by Al Robertson

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Leila Fenech is dead. And so is her brother Dieter. But what’s really pissing her off is how he sold his afterlife as part of an insurance scam and left her to pick up the pieces. She wants him back so she can kick his backside from here to the Kuiper Belt.

Station is humanity’s last outpost. But this battle-scarred asteroid isn’t just for the living. It’s also where the dead live on as fetches: digital memories and scraps of personality gathered together and given life. Of a sort.

Leila won’t stop searching Station until she’s found her brother’s fetch – but the sinister Pressure Men are stalking her every move. Clearly Dieter’s got himself mixed up in something a whole lot darker than just some scam.

Digging deeper, Leila discovers there’s far more than her brother’s afterlife at stake. Could it be that humanity’s last outpost is on the brink of disaster? Is it too late for even the dead to save it?

Review:

[I received a copy from the publisher through NetGalley.]

Sequel to ‘Crashing Heaven’, a novel I read a couple of years ago, and quite liked. The world is roughly the same—Station, floating in space—but the protagonists are different, and the situation has changed: one of the gods was forcibly removed, and the fetches (dead people reconstructed from their memories) now have existences of their own, even though their community went through a plague that almost destroyed them along the way.

The characters: as mentioned above, no Hugo Fist or Jack Forster here, although they’re briefly mentioned. This time, the story mainly follows Leila, a fetch who’s trying to save her genius brother Dieter, and Cassiel, a Totality mind who’s investigating said brother’s death. It starts with Dieter falling prey to an old tech artifact, and dying from it; however, contrary to what Leila thinks at first, he cannot be brought back as a fetch, due to a fishy contract he signed at the last moment with a couple of shady characters called ‘pressure men’. Finding herself the unwilling beneficiary of this contract that left her a rich heiress, Leila uses her newly acquired money—and the door it opens—to try and find out what really happened to Dieter, and bring him back at all costs, the way himself helped her build herself back up after the fetch plague almost deconstructed her for good.

Even though I admit I didn’t like Leila much at first (too whiny and self-centered), and would have hoped to see Jack and Hugo again, soon enough the new characters grew up on me. On the one hand, Leila tends to keep focused on Dieter and not on the bigger picture, but this bit on the selfish side makes her, in a way, very human. On the other hand, she puts herself on the front line as well: you definitely can’t call her a coward, all the more as the enemy could very well wipe her out of existence. As for Cassiel, she brings a lot of information about the AIs, the way they live, and how close they are to humans even if the latter don’t always notice it.

(Interestingly, as a fetch, Leila is just as much dependent on hardware and on the local equivalent of the online world to exist and manifest herself. The world of Station definitely keeps blurring the lines and questioning what makes us human, especially once you throw the gods into the mix: the Rose who isn’t so infallible, East who’s obsessed with the media and her reality shows…)

There are a lot of epic virtual reality/online world/hidden servers moments. Because both Leila and Cassiel are reconstructed or artificial AIs, they’re both powerful and frail. Without a physical body, and armed with a weapon Dieter had once designed for her only, Leila has means of her own to fight and resist; and Cassiel was designed as a weapon herself, with a nanogel body making her suited for both physical and digital combat; and yet, because they’re software-based, they’re vulnerable to viruses and similar attacks… which makes the pressure men and their ability to edit data (including memories) all the more dangerous to them. Memory is clearly one of the stakes in the novel, because there comes a point when neither characters nor readers can really tell whether their memories are true or were manipulated.

A few discrepancies in terms of style (I had noticed that in the first book already: sometimes the prose switches to short sentences that jar a little with the rest), but not enough to really be a problem. All instances of ‘brought’ were also printed as ‘bought’, but since I got a preprint copy, this was hopefully corrected in the final version.

Conclusion: 3.5 stars. I found the ending a little rushed, with some loose ends not so properly tied, and there were a couple of moments when I had to push through for a few pages (for some reason I can’t exactly pinpoint). Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed diving into Station and its particular blend of bleak cyberpunk and transhumanism. Should there be a third book, I wouldn’t mind reading it either.

Yzabel / November 7, 2016

Review: The Easy Way Out

The Easy Way Out by Steven Amsterdam

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Evan’s job is to help people die.

Evan is a nurse – a suicide assistant. His job is legal – just. He’s the one at the hospital who hands out the last drink to those who ask for it.

Evan’s friends don’t know what he does during the day. His mother, Viv, doesn’t know what he’s up to at night. And his supervisor suspects there may be trouble ahead.

As he helps one patient after another die, Evan pushes against the limits of the law – and his own morality. And with Viv increasingly unwell, his love life complicated, to say the least, Evan begins to wonder who might be there for him, when the time comes.

Review:

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

OK, I admit I don’t really know what to write in this review, which seldom happens. It wasn’t a bad story—and its theme is fairly interesting (legalised euthanasia, and potential risks and abuse that may be related to it vs. what it accomplishes for people who suffer). But I never really feel connected to the characters, and thus never really cared about them.

I can feel somewhat close to the debate about euthanasia. I’m not sure if it’s something I’d choose for myself, however with my phobia of cancer, I really “get” the wish to go while you can still decide for yourself, because I see absolutely no point in “living longer” if this “life” is spent pissing myself in a hospital bed and begging for morphine or not being aware anymore of what’s around me. At this point, that’s not even surviving anymore, so… I don’t know. Somehow I really hope I’ll never have to find out for myself. That’s the kind of knowledge I can blissfully remain ignorant of.

Evan’s dilemmas, his trouble adjusting to what his job demanded of him and what, deep inside, he wanted/needed to give, were interesting as well. There are a lot of grey areas here, and I’d often wonder at all the legal parts in this legalised assisted death in the novel: on the one hand, the law has to prevent abuse, otherwise it’s easy to veer into murder; on the other, what do you do when a patient with degenerative disease has expressed until the end their wish to die, but their disease prevent them from drinking their glass of Nembutal? Not helping means denying their wishes; but actually helping them drink may be construed as “pushy” and “choosing for them”. So, so very grey.

Also, props for including a relationship that is not the cookie-cutter traditional heterosexual one, AND including it in a natural way, as something that simply “is”, and not some matter for moral discussion or judgment or whatever. You don’t see that too often to my liking in books and movies. Granted, I wished Evan had been more involved in it, because Lon and Simon were lovely and supportive people, and I felt they were always left on the sideline; but that has nothing to do with gender.

On the other hand, some things were not fleshed out enough. Evan’s relationship with his boss Nettie, for starters—I was sure there was matter for discussion here, a basis for more conflict and/or, on the contrary, more relating, yet it was never really accomplished. Same with Evan’s decision to keep mum about his job when it came to some of (close) characters, or Jasper’s Path, which came a bit out of nowhere?

I didn’t really get either the very, very quick decline in Viv. Sure, it was dramatic, however the scientist in me would’ve liked to see more explanations about her going from Parkinson’s to almost-miraculous recovery to going downhill in a matter of 4-5 days. I totally get the whole tragedy in her condition—a fiercely independent woman who finds herself becoming dependent and is inwardly scared of it—but this decline felt like a plot device and not like an exactly natural evolution of said plot, if that makes sense.

Conclusion: interesting, but I never felt involved.

Yzabel / September 18, 2016

Review: Nine Candles of Deepest Black

Nine Candles of Deepest Black by Matthew S. Cox

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

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

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

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

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

Review:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enregistrer

Yzabel / July 2, 2016

Review: Much of Madness

Much of Madness by S.E. Summa

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

Seraphina Pearce doesn’t know what’s more frustrating: her magic’s affinity for death, her best friend’s transformation into an albino Sin Eater, or that simply touching a guy she loves means someone’s headed to the morgue.

After a sin-eating job goes awry, she casts a risky spell and butts heads with a handsome stranger in order to win an infamous grimoire.

Marceau L’Argent is the last person she should confide in because the occult cat burglar has a mysterious past, and he’s made it no secret he also wants the grimoire. He recognizes her dark magic and offers his unique help as a rare curse breaker. If all that weren’t enough, Marceau causes butterflies in her stomach—a feeling she’d long thought dead.

Seraphina was only trying to break her curse—not piss off Death himself.

Review:

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

Quite a few original ideas in this one. Ultimately, though, I found it too disjointed, in plot as well as in writing, and while I shall acknowledge its premise as definitely interesting, it wasn’t a novel I really enjoyed.

To be fair, some background information is delivered little by little, not as huge info-dumps. The problem was mostly the order in which everything was disclosed: more than once, I felt that “this information should have come sooner”, or “that revelation deserved being held for just a little longer”. I could feel that in the characters, for instance; in the nature of Seraphina’s powers, her relation with Rolf, the way she wove her spell to get the book; in the way Kath’s background was introduced (kind of “oh yes, by the way, I’m this species and I come from that family”); or Max’s nature—it looked like Marceau was the one doing all the work from beginning to end? Had such tidbits been handled differently, I suspect I would’ve enjoyed them more.

(And what exactly is the Conexus? Some kind of supernatural government or body, obviously, but it seemed oddly absent, only mentioned in passing in the beginning and at the end.)

In general, I didn’t really connect with the characters. Partly because their presence wasn’t always justified—I’m still wondering what was the point in having Vespa hang around. And partly because of the book’s “tell not show” tendency and stilted dialogues; the way Marceau address Seraphina was often pretty unnatural, which easily turns into suspension of disbelief as far as I’m concerned. (As a side note: the names. Sera, Finn and Khat are amlrights, but “Marceau” immediately conjures images of old French mimes, and “Vespa” that of Italian scooters. I couldn’t get that out of my mind. It was… distracting.)

As for the plot, well, for me (again) it was shadowed by the romance. The latter was of course important when it came to the curse, I won’t deny that; only the “telling” and dialogues didn’t spoke of chemistry between Sera and Marc. And the “daily life snippets” were too long and several too many—as in, they eclipsed the Big Bad of the story, and the threat he was supposed to pose, in such a way that all feeling of urgency was lost. I could almost picture him popping out of a box at times, saying “muhaha, wait, I’m still here, let’s not forget me.”

Conclusion: Interesting types of supernaturals and magic (Sin Eaters, magic boosts, necromancy…) but plot- and character-wise, it just didn’t work for me. Not so much madness in there…

Yzabel / June 5, 2016

Review: HEX

HEX by Thomas Olde Heuvelt

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Whoever is born here, is doomed to stay until death. Whoever comes to stay, never leaves.

Welcome to Black Spring, the seemingly picturesque Hudson Valley town haunted by the Black Rock Witch, a seventeenth-century woman whose eyes and mouth are sewn shut. Blind and silenced, she walks the streets and enters homes at will. She stands next to children’s beds for nights on end. So accustomed to her have the townsfolk become that they often forget she’s there. Or what a threat she poses. Because if the stitches are ever cut open, the story goes, the whole town will die.

The curse must not be allowed to spread. The elders of Black Spring have used high-tech surveillance to quarantine the town. Frustrated with being kept in lockdown, the town’s teenagers decide to break the strict regulations and go viral with the haunting. But, in so doing, they send the town spiraling into a dark nightmare.

Review:

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

I do love stories set in little towns with secrets, and especially when said secrets are quite “normal” there, and only outsiders would get really shocked about them because the locals have gone… numb and used to them? It’s definitely creepy, and keeps making me wonder when the crap’s going to hit the fan, when the normalcy of horror will become actual horror, when the mask will be thrown away and it’s showtime. Something like that.

Well, at some point it’s showtime in “HEX”, clearly. The only question is “when”.

It starts with a very normal day in the lives of the Normal McNormal family, in Normal Town, USA. Except for the woman who gets crushed by an organ right at the beginning (and that’s when you do a double-take and think “wait, what? I’d better pay more attention to what I’m reading.”). That’s what got me from the start: the feeling that something troubling was was presented as normal, and everybody but me just went about their day without blinking an eye. Soon enough more information surfaces, through other everyday scenes: the Grant family having dinner while a mysterious “Gramma” sits in the next room with a napkin on her head… The council/local organisation policing the town keeping an eye on a couple of newcomers, desperately trying to dissuade them from buying a house in Black Spring. These first chapters were really intriguing and I couldn’t wait to read more.

I didn’t like this novel more, though, because I think at some point, the horror became a little too… close? As in, when you KNOW what’s going to happen, when you KNOW things are going to get very wrong and you suspect how they’re going to unfold, when you start foreseeing such events, there’s always a risk, at least in my case, of distanciating myself from the story in advance. I guess that’s what happened here, and when all the bad things befell various characters, it didn’t creep me out so much anymore. Perhaps that’s just my personal problem with horror stories, and I unconsciously distance myself from their events. Perhaps I don’t do that all the time. It takes a very, very fine and fragile balance to take me where I’d like to be (caring about the characters, feeling invested to the point that every setback for them will be a blow for me).

The normalcy factor and many characters being a bit cliché may also have “helped” in not making me care too much : trying too much killed the effort, so to speak. The Grants look like a too perfect family (the mother doesn’t do much except being the Good Wife, to be honest), the teenagers’ exactions on the witch ended up being more of the sensational-seeking kind than really creepy, the HEX people were forgettable, the new couple settling in town were, in the end, just an excuse to hand out a block of information (they never did anything noteworthy after that)…

Finally, I also felt Katherine’s involvement wasn’t too clear : she’s dangerous but she also was a victim ; there’s a curse but you never know how exactly it started and/or manifests through the witch (“touching her” and “living in Black Spring” are a bit vague); so developments towards the end didn’t make as much sense as would’ve been needed to drive the horror through. As if the plot here kept sitting on the fence, not knowing whether to go the way of humans or monsters. Which is too bad, because there’s that whole theme of “the curse we inflict upon ourselves by forgetting we’re humans and by turning against each other as if we had never learnt anything”.

There were “good” horror moments (the search for the dog at night…) but in the end it was an “OK” book for me, nothing more. 2 to 2.5 stars.