fantasy Archives - Page 3 of 12

Yzabel / January 19, 2017

Review: When the Moon Was Ours

When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

When the Moon Was Ours follows two characters through a story that has multicultural elements and magical realism, but also has central LGBT themes—a transgender boy, the best friend he’s falling in love with, and both of them deciding how they want to define themselves.

To everyone who knows them, best friends Miel and Sam are as strange as they are inseparable. Roses grow out of Miel’s wrist, and rumors say that she spilled out of a water tower when she was five. Sam is known for the moons he paints and hangs in the trees, and for how little anyone knows about his life before he and his mother moved to town.

But as odd as everyone considers Miel and Sam, even they stay away from the Bonner girls, four beautiful sisters rumored to be witches. Now they want the roses that grow from Miel’s skin, convinced that their scent can make anyone fall in love. And they’re willing to use every secret Miel has fought to protect to make sure she gives them up.

Review:

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

Enchanting and full of diversity, although the flowery prose didn’t convince me.

The book opens on Miel and Sam, a skittish girl with roses growing out of her wrist, and a boy who doesn’t exactly know if he wants to be a boy or go back to being a girl. In itself, this was an interesting premise, as both characters were searching for their inner truth, all lthe while being surrounded by lies (or what they perceived at such): Miel’s memory—not exactly the most reliable; what Aracely, Miel’s adoptive guardian, knows and what she doesn’t say; Sam having to hide his body in everyday life; and the Bonner sisters, with their red hair and their mysterious ways, four girls acting as one, enchantresses ensnaring boys and wielding their own kind of power that always gets them what they want in the end.

There’s more magical realism than actual magic here, although Aracely’s ability to cure heartbreak, as well as her being a self-professed curandera, definitely hint at ‘witchcraft’. It’s more about the way things are shown and described, in the moons Sam paints and hangs outside people’s windows, in the roses growing out of Miel’s skin, in the rumoured stained glass coffin meant to make girls more beautiful, in how modern life and themes (immigrants in a small town, transgender teenagers, fear of rejection, or the practice of bacha posh, which I didn’t know about before reading this book…) intertwine with poetry and metaphor, with images of rebirth and growing up and accepting (or realising) who you’re meant to be. Not to mention racial diversity, instead of the usual ‘all main protagonists are whiter than white.’

To be honest, though, as much as the prose was beautiful at first, in the end it seemed like it was trying too much, and the story suffered from too many convoluted paragraphs and redundant descriptions & flashbacks. As it was, even though I liked this book in general, I found myself skimming in places that felt like déjà vu. Granted, it’s much more a character- than a plot-driven novel, but I’m convinced all the prose could’ve been toned down, and it would have remained beautiful without sometimes running in circles and drowning the plot now and then.

Conclusion: 2.5 stars.

Yzabel / December 31, 2016

Review: All Darling Children

All Darling Children by Katrina Monroe

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

All boys grow up, except one.

On the tenth anniversary of her mother’s death, fourteen-year-old Madge Darling’s grandmother suffers a heart attack. With the overbearing Grandma Wendy in the hospital, Madge runs away to Chicago, intent on tracking down a woman she believes is actually her mother.

On her way to the Windy City, a boy named Peter Pan lures Madge to Neverland, a magical place where children can remain young forever. While Pan plays puppet master in a twisted game only he understands, Madge discovers the disturbing price of Peter Pan’s eternal youth.

Review:

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

I read Barrie’s book, as well as watched Disney’s Peter Pan movie, so long ago that I honestly can’t remember all details. Still, this retelling looked interesting, and so I decided to give it a try.

Madge, Wendy’s granddaughter, lives a not-so-happy life with her grandma, and keeps trying to escape to find her mother who may or may not be in Chicago. One night, when she finally gets a chance to leave, she gets spirited to Neverland: another chance, one to learn more about her family, her mum, and everything Wendy never told her. However, Neverland quickly turns out to be more terrifying than an enchanted island full of fairies and forever-boys. Clearly not the fairy tale a lot of children and people think about when they hear the name of ‘Peter Pan’ mentioned.

There are interesting themes and ideas in this book: what the boys’ rituals involve exactly, what happened to Jane, the slow disintegration of Neverland, what happened to Hook and Tiger Lily… I’ve always liked the “Hook as an ambiguous villain” approach, and here, he’s definitely of the ambiguous kind, since it’s 1) difficult to know if he wants to help or hinder, and 2) he’s no saint, but Pan is no saint either, so one can understand the bad blood between those two.

I was expecting more, though, and had trouble with some inconsistencies throughout the story. The time period, for one: it seems Madge is living in the 1990s-2000s—welll, some very close contemporary period at any rate—, which doesn’t fit with the early-1900s of the original story. I know it’s not the main focus, yet it kept bothering me no matter what: there’s no way Wendy could still be alive, or at least fit enough to bring up a teenager, and she would’ve had to give birth to Madge’s mother pretty late in life as well. And since there’s no hint that ‘maybe she stayed in Neverland for decades, which is why Jane was born so late,’ so it doesn’t add up. Also, Michael is still alive at the end? How long has it been? He must be over 100 or something by then.

None of the characters particularly interested me either. I liked the concept of Pan as tyrant, but I would’ve appreciate more background on this. And while Madge was described as someone who was strong enough to make things change, her actions throughout the story didn’t exactly paint her in that light; it was more about the other characters saying she was like that, or telling her what she had to do, and her reacting.

I found the ending a bit of an anticlimax. Things went down a bit too easily (I had expected more cunning, or more of a fight, so to speak?)… though props on the very last chapter for the people it shows, and for being in keeping with the grim underlying themes of Neverland (kids who ‘never grow up’, huh).

Conclusion: Worth a try, but definitely not as good as what I expected from a Peter Pan retelling.

Yzabel / December 9, 2016

Review: Heartless

Heartless by Marissa Meyer

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Long before she was the terror of Wonderland, she was just a girl who wanted to fall in love. Catherine may be one of the most desired girls in Wonderland, and a favorite of the unmarried King of Hearts, but her interests lie elsewhere. A talented baker, all she wants is to open a shop with her best friend. But according to her mother, such a goal is unthinkable for the young woman who could be the next queen.

Then Cath meets Jest, the handsome and mysterious court joker. For the first time, she feels the pull of true attraction. At the risk of offending the king and infuriating her parents, she and Jest enter into an intense, secret courtship. Cath is determined to define her own destiny and fall in love on her terms. But in a land thriving with magic, madness, and monsters, fate has other plans.

Review:

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

Hm. I liked the premise (telling the story of the Queen of Hearts before Alice came to Wonderland), however there were parts when I was a little… bored?

Catherine Pinkerton, daughter of a Marchess, loves nothing more than to bake, and dreams of opening a bakery with her maid and best friend Mary Ann, rather than just marrying some rich nobility son that she won’t even love. Of course, her plans get thwarted when she catches the attention of the King… or are they? When the new Court’s joker waltzes into the play, things change again, and this time, Cath may have a chance at true love. Except… We all know how the Queen of Hearts behaves in Carroll’s story, so we also know that whatever Fate has in store for those characters, it’s not a happy ending.

It’s not so easy to write a (re)telling of something whose end is already well-known, and while it was problematic, some aspects I really liked. The beginning had a certain vibrancy, what’s with the cake/bakery imagery and Catherine’s dreams, not to mention Jest’s first appearance during the ball, and the darker parts, including the meeting with the three sisters, were creepy in their own ways.

The main problem I had with this novel were its characters, and I think that had a lot to do with how I knew (or at least suspected) it would end. This time, it’s not even a case of insta-love—Cath’s and Jest’s relationship progresses quickly, but frankly, I’ve also seen much, much worse in that regard—more a case of characters trying to let their own personality develop and shine through, only to be put back on rails in order for the story to end up where it should. I found this too bad for them, to be honest; I suspect they would’ve been more interesting had they been able to live their own tale fully. As a result, Catherine especially ended up rather passive and unappealing, stuck between a sort of Regency-like society where noble girls marry noble men and must remain silent and pretty in their corsets, a holier-than-thou attitude (ironically mirroring Margaret’s without never realising it), and twists meant to turn her into the Queen of Hearts, yet too predictable to really hit home. The courtship period was infuriating, what’s with all her refusing the King but never telling it to his face, letting things happen, then worrying that she’ll have to marry him and not be with the man she actually loves, but still not doing anything, until it was too late and whatever she’d do would just end up badly (also it’s the others’ fault, never hers… great).

Other problems were the writing (not bad, but nothing exceptional either), and the pacing: especially in the second third, the story dragged and felt padded out—that was when I started struggling to keep on reading, before getting to the last/darker part. While the kingdom of Hearts had a ‘cutesy’ and colourful side that I quite liked, it didn’t enthrall me (Chess with its warring Queens seemed more exciting?), perhaps because half the book at least was devoted to parties and balls and a more traditional “arranged marriage” plot, instead of playing on a more Wonderland-like atmosphere.

Conclusion: Well, I expected more, and this is clearly a case of a story whose characters would have been better left to their own devices.

Yzabel / October 31, 2016

Review: The Bear and the Nightingale

The Bear and The Nightingale by Katherine Arden

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

In a village at the edge of the wilderness of northern Russia, where the winds blow cold and the snow falls many months of the year, a stranger with piercing blue eyes presents a new father with a gift – a precious jewel on a delicate chain,intended for his young daughter. Uncertain of its meaning, the father hides the gift away and his daughter, Vasya, grows up a wild, willfull girl, to the chagrin of her family. But when mysterious forces threaten the happiness of their village, Vasya discovers that, armed only with the necklace, she may be the only one who can keep the darkness at bay.

Review:

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

I was invited to read this book by the publisher, and gladly accepted, since it looked like something I would like.

And liked it I did, at least for most of its parts. It took me a little while to get used to the writing style, however once I did I found it worked fairly well, telling the story in the manner of a fairy tale. The descriptions made it easy to picture the house Vasya lives in, the horses, the nearby forest, and the deep cold in winter.

I liked Vasya in general, and how her “opponents” were not only out of tales and folklore, but also what society expects of her (either marrying or going to a convent). This was easy to see with the way she was described, often likened to a “filly” when the point of view was a man’s, like an animal just waiting to be tamed. I felt that at times, this description extended to other POVs, which weakened it, but in general, it worked (yes, it created a feeling of unease and frustration… which was exactly the point, I suppose!). Fortunately, Vasya had no intention of being “tamed”, and revealed herself as a brave soul who wanted nothing more than to protect her family, even knowing that people would call her a witch. And it didn’t matter to her: she still wanted to do the right thing, without wasting time on justifying her actions.

The magic here is more on the subtle side: no spells, but folklore, people leaving food for the spirits of their home, Vasya being able to talk with horses, horses teaching her how to ride them, and “witches” being generally characterised by their ability to see the spirits. The latter were on the side of nature rather than morality’s, which was a pleasant thing: contrary to the priest’s and Anna’s beliefs, this was never about “demons”, about Good vs. Bad, but about two different sides of nature, the cold/death/order pitched against the scorching heat and violence of an unbound summer. Even if the Bear was touted as the enemy, he was nevertheless part of the cycle: not to be destroyed, simply to be forced to rest in order not to burn too bright and destroy what he touched instead of warming it.

To be honest, I regret a little that the story didn’t truly turn to magic/tale before later. There was much of “Vasya growing up, politics in Moscow”, etc., which in a bona fide fairy tale would’ve been an introduction, soon to leave room to the actual tale. Granted, it did help in setting the mood and the family relationships, but I suppose I was expecting more of the magical/enchanted side, in larger doses? In spite of the presence of chyerty, some chapters felt a tad bit too down to earth, in a way. I think this also contributes to making it a slow story: I admit I wondered, towards the end, if there’d be room for the announced battle against the Bear, because I was reaching the 85% mark and I still wasn’t seeing it.

Conclusion: 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / October 20, 2016

Review: Death By Cliché

Death by Cliché by Bob Defendi

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

To Sartre, Hell was other people. To the game designer, Hell is the game.

Damico writes games for a living. When called in to rescue a local roleplaying game demo, Damico is shot in the head by a loony fan. He awakens in a game. A game full of hackneyed tropes and clichéd plots. A game he was there to save, run by the man who murdered him just moments ago. A game that has just become world-swap fantasy. Damico, to his horror, has become the heart of the cliché.

Set on their quest in a scene that would make Ed Wood blush, Damico discovers a new wrinkle. As a game designer, he is a creative force in this broken place. His presence touches the two-dimensional inhabitants. First a peasant, then a barmaid, then his character’s own father…all come alive.

But the central question remains. Can Damico escape, or is he trapped in this nightmare? Forever.

Wait, what? This is a comedy? Ignore all that. Death by Cliché is a heartwarming tale of catastrophic brain damage. Share it with someone you love. Or like. Or anyone at all. Buy the book.

Based on a true story.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book from the publisher.]

I’m on the fence regarding this novel, as some parts were fun, but some others made fun of gamers in a way that I would expect from someone who doesn’t play—as in, clichés that weren’t so funny as demeaning.

Damico, game designer, finds himself trapped in a tabletop RPG scenario, as a non-player character, after he got shot in the head by a loony Dungeon Master. (Which in itself is a bad cliché already, but that may be me being a wee bit sensitive after years trying to debunk myths in my hometown, like “oh you’re a gamer, so you must be weird and deranged”. Meh.) It’s only a game, right? Right. So it doesn’t matter if all those cardboard characters—peasants, the Evil Overlord, the buxom tavern wench…—get to die, because they’re just ink on paper, or in the head of the game master. Except they’re not, not exactly; and conversely, if they are, does it mean that Damico is dead, and nothing more than ink as well?

And this is one of the strong points of “Death By Cliché”. Sure, it’s nothing the literary world hasn’t seen before (what is real, what defines reality, what defines humanity…), yet it doesn’t matter: it remains an interesting theme. The humorous approach doesn’t detract from this kind of “serious” questioning, and at the same time is enjoyable, because, well, it’s fun.

The clichés I’m a bit undecided about, as mentioned previously. The book is packed with them, which is totally expected with such a title and premise, and some of them work really well. If you are, or used to be, a gamer, odds are you’ve encountered a lot of them, whether places, situations or people. It pokes fun at the tired fantasy tropes (the evil lord, the long days of travel—sorry, I’m not a “travel fantasy” person— the fabled Artefact, the cliché large-breasted tavern girls, and so on). Plenty of themes to play with, and it’s obvious the author had lots of fun with those. Also, the feeling of reliving some old gaming sessions, or discussing those with an old friend. I’m positive that every gamer, at some point, even the most serious/storytelling-type/roleplaying ones, gave in at some point to some jolly good cliché or silly action. This is part of what makes such games funny, after all.

Some tropes didn’t work as well for me; but then, they’re clearly the ones that tend to make too much fun of gamers in general, and can easily be construed as more derogatory than mere fun. You know, the “oh but it’s just for fun, don’t get angry” thing, to cover a hurtful comment/joke. That’s the kind of the impression I got.

The writing style was often tongue-in-cheek, sometimes deliberately breaking the fourth wall. I tend to like this, so it made me smile. I couldn’t care less about the chapter quotes, though; the first three or so were cool, the rest quickly became tedious.

Conclusion: As expected, a lot of clichés, that may have been exploited better; but all in all, it was a fun ride.

Enregistrer

Yzabel / October 11, 2016

Review: Knights of the Borrowed Dark

Knights of the Borrowed Dark by Dave Rudden

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Denizen Hardwick is an orphan, and his life is, well, normal. Sure, in storybooks orphans are rescued from drudgery when they discover they are a wizard or a warrior or a prophesied king. But this is real life—orphans are just kids without parents. At least that’s what Denizen thought…

On a particularly dark night, the gates of Crosscaper Orphanage open to a car that almost growls with power. The car and the man in it retrieve Denizen with the promise of introducing him to a long-lost aunt. But on the ride into the city, they are attacked. Denizen soon learns that monsters can grow out of the shadows. And there is an ancient order of knights who keep them at bay. Denizen has a unique connection to these knights, but everything they tell him feels like a half-truth. If Denizen joins the order, is he fulfilling his destiny, or turning his back on everything his family did to keep him alive?

Review:

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

An enjoyable middle-grade novel, even though not the most original ever. Denizen (not the best of names, to be honest) is an orphan, grew up in an orphanage, has never known his parents, and nobody has information about them. But on his 13th birthday, an aunt he was never told about offers to have him home for a few days… and perhaps more?

After this start somewhat common to a lot of books in this category, and somewhat slow as well, things picked up. Denizen is introduced to a new world, and the author isn’t shy of showing that world’s darkness, literally (the Tenebrous) as well as figuratively: the magic has its toll, and is of the kind you need to use scarcely, otherwise it burns its users. Granted, I found the world-building a bit shoddy in places—great concepts, like the Endless King, the Emissary and Os Reges (the latter were beautiful and haunting, in their own twisted, creepy ways), but the Knights seemed to hold little enough information about their own Order and history, which felt odd. I could sense there was much more to develop here, yet was unsure whether it’d be in a next novel in the series, or something that just… wasn’t too thought-out.

In general, the characters were enjoyable. The Knights all had their little quirks, and Grey especially was a character I warmed up to very quickly. Denizen, too, in spite of some childish-pouting moments (he’s 13, after all), was overall a lovable kid. He’s ready to fight for his friends and even for strangers, yet also as savvy enough to obey orders and not get in the way, not too much that is, where I would have expected too stupid to live moments. And when he does “get in the way”, usually it’s because someone’s life is at stake and there’s no other apparent solution, since trying to find help would take too much time. There was one specific moment when his decision felt stupid; this said, it was prompted by wanting to help someone he trusts a lot, so it makes it more… understandable? It wasn’t some silly reason like “wanting to impress the others”, it stemmed from a genuine desire to help.

I hope Simon will be more developed in the next novels, as he seems interesting too but obviously couldn’t be devoted much time to, being at the orphanage and all. Also, I feared some romance with Abigail, but for now she seems to be more the potential friend than potential love interest, and it’d be great if things stayed like that, because I can’t sense much between Denizen and her in terms of “romance chemistry”.

Where this novel fell flat for me, apart from the world building, was in how its characters, albeit sympathetic, weren’t given enough spotlight. Especially the Knights (Darcie, D’Aubigny, Fuller Jack). Getting to know them better would help in making me feel closer, more involved. Finally, some twists were of the expected kind, and not always handled as well as they could have been.

However, in general, it was a good read, that I went through like a breeze. I think that in terms of “fantasy, magic and adventure books for a middle-grade audience”, it will keep its intended readers entertained. 3 stars, going on 3.5.

Yzabel / September 23, 2016

Review: Gaslight & Grimm – Steampunk Faerie Tales

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

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

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

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

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

Review:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yzabel / September 21, 2016

Review: A City Dreaming

A City Dreaming by Daniel Polansky

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

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

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

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

Review:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yzabel / September 12, 2016

Review: Smoke

Smoke by Dan Vyleta

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

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

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

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

Review:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yzabel / August 22, 2016

Review: The Vengeful Half

The Vengeful Half by Jaclyn Dolamore

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

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

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

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

Review:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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