historical fiction Archives - Page 3 of 5

Yzabel / February 16, 2016

Review: The Dark Days Club

The Dark Days Club by Alison Goodman

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

London, April 1812. On the eve of eighteen-year-old Lady Helen Wrexhall’s presentation to the queen, one of her family’s housemaids disappears-and Helen is drawn into the shadows of Regency London. There, she meets Lord Carlston, one of the few who can stop the perpetrators: a cabal of demons infiltrating every level of society. Dare she ask for his help, when his reputation is almost as black as his lingering eyes? And will her intelligence and headstrong curiosity wind up leading them into a death trap?

Review:

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

3,5 stars. A bit slow, but I realised I didn’t mind this: mostly it was due to the depiction of Regency Era daily life for a young noblewoman debuting in society, and considering that this was one of the stakes in the narrative, it felt appropriate.

In 1812 London, with London wary about the advance of Napoleon Bonaparte in Europe, Lady Helen Wrexhall is coming of age under the watchful eye of her aunt and uncle, who brought her and her brother up after their parents drowned at sea. While Helen’s life seems perfect in many ways considering the times and her place in society (she has, after all, a title, fame, and money), her family’s history keeps casting a shadow on her reputation: her mother was rumoured to be a traitor to the crown, and because of that “stain”, it is of the utmost importance that she remains a proper lady in all circumstances. And “proper lady” involves many things that she is not, and not so many things that she is—that is, full of wit and energy, and eager to learn (she is skilled in Latin and natural philosophy, among other things… all matters that were tolerated when she was a “girl”, but won’t fit a “grown-up woman”).

The writing style in general was fluid and the descriptions pleasant. A great deal of the narrative deals with the dichotomy in Helen’s life. She tries to conform to what her aunt and uncle expect from her, but with a certain degree of unease: should she shun her mother like her uncle demands her to, publicly denouncing her as a traitor, or keep her head high and remember the loving mother she only for the first eight years of her life? And all the while, she discovers more and more troubling truths about the world she’s always taken for granted. Truths involving a dark and dashing young lord rumoured to have murdered his wife, a group of people with noble and less noble motives, and perhaps also her mother’s activities.

I liked Helen in general: headstrong but not too stupid to live; willing to discover the truth but also frightened by it and trying to understand what she really wanted (and wanted to do);doing what she could to fit in yet frustrated by all the limitations placed upon her both by society and by her family. Her relationship with Darby was strong, a beautiful budding friendship rather than a simple maid-and-lady relationship, with mutual respect and trust.

The supernatural aspect is fairly “easy” and traditional—creatures living hidden amidst humans, feeding upon them, vs. a group of men and women dedicated to fighting them—but all in all, it worked, and it brought enough dark elements and secrets to keep me entertained and interested. Obviously enough, Helen finds herself embroiled into their activities, and torn between her perceived duties as a lady and her perceived duties regarding those truths she uncovered. Trifling matters? Perhaps, but to be expected in relationship to her social position. Balancing supernatural activities in secret when you’re still dependent on a male parent (who also controls all your money and watches you to make sure you’re not going to turn “evil” like your mother)… Well, it’s not so easy, and more is at stake than just being grounded for a few days. Helen’s struggles to come to terms with what *she* wanted to do—she, not her uncle, or her brother, or her aunt, or Carlston, or even her mother—felt true, and highlighted the general struggles of other women of that era: does one have to remain stuck in a role defined by others, or can she hope to decide on her own life?

I got a bit tired of the overall slowness (and some info-dumping) around the middle of the novel, to be honest—although it fortunately picked up in the last part, there were some places where I wished the plot would move faster, or that the action scenes were more intense (Helen wasn’t exactly a fighter in those, and her being a spectator rather than an actor also impeded the narrative’s rhythm). The descriptions and everyday life would likely be good for a reader wanting to read about those, but not so much if one is in another mood.

I also found that other characters weren’t as fleshed out as Helen, and I wish I could have gotten to know them better. In a way, I’m glad that the romance part was far from being a huge subplot, because I would’ve needed to feel more about Carlston for that.

All in all I liked this story and will gladly pick the next volume… although I hope its rhythm will be a bit faster.

Yzabel / January 5, 2016

Review: This Monstrous Thing

This Monstrous Thing by Mackenzi Lee

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

In 1818 Geneva, men built with clockwork parts live hidden away from society, cared for only by illegal mechanics called Shadow Boys. Two years ago, Shadow Boy Alasdair Finch’s life shattered to bits.

His brother, Oliver—dead.

His sweetheart, Mary—gone.

His chance to break free of Geneva—lost.

Heart-broken and desperate, Alasdair does the unthinkable: He brings Oliver back from the dead.

But putting back together a broken life is more difficult than mending bones and adding clockwork pieces. Oliver returns more monster than man, and Alasdair’s horror further damages the already troubled relationship.

Then comes the publication of Frankenstein and the city intensifies its search for Shadow Boys, aiming to discover the real life doctor and his monster. Alasdair finds refuge with his idol, the brilliant Dr. Geisler, who may offer him a way to escape the dangerous present and his guilt-ridden past, but at a horrible price only Oliver can pay…

Review:

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

Sort of a retelling of the “Frankenstein” story, based on the idea of “what if the latter had been inspired by real-life events”. In a world where clockwork (allowing to replace missing limbs in people, among other things) is considered in some places, due to its proponents’ reputation of not being fully human, Alasdair Finch and his family have been on the run for years, ending in Geneva where they secretly practice their craft as “Shadow Boys”. Since the elder brother, Oliver, died two years ago, though, nothing has been the same. It is, obviously, no spoiler to say that Alasdair brought him back through clockwork, and now has to deal with a different Oliver, back from the dead… and no brother quite know what to do with himself or each other anymore.

The characters themselves were interesting enough, with merits and flaws, doubts and questions regarding what they had done, what they should do… Oliver: convinced he was a monster, and having to learn who he was through Alasdair, since he first had no memory of his previous life. Alasdair, torn between his loyalty towards his brother and family and his desire to study with their former mentor, Dr. Geisler. Clémence, so hardened and savvy in many ways, yet also unsure of what her place in the world was. Mary, conflicted about the choices she made and the façade she presented to the world. Even some minor characters, whose own perception of clockwork isn’t always what you’d think.

I regretted however not seeing more of their inner questioning: we get a lot from Alasdair, since he’s the first person narrator, but the others seemed to have such torment to contend with, and it was “only” seen through Ally’s eyes, therefore tinged by his own view of the world. It mirrored the original work by Shelley, but didn’t have the same impact on me. Perhaps a third person narration, with a couple of other points of view, may have worked well here, if only to also let the reader witness other happenings—the plot remained slow in terms of events/action, yet not as devoted as it could have been to fully develop the whole philosophy and conundrums behind the Shadow Boys, clockwork, people having undergone such surgery after having lost a foot or an arm, the Frankenstein society, Mary Shelley’s actions and her somewhat questionable reasons… And although the ending was left open, it was also a little flat compared to what had been at stake.

I still deem this book pleasant to read, for the atmosphere it evoked and the themes it dealt with. I only wish it would’ve delved deeper into its, all in all, fascinating ideas.

Yzabel / November 2, 2015

Review: These Shallow Graves

These Shallow Graves by Jennifer Donnelly

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Jo Montfort is beautiful and rich, and soon—like all the girls in her class—she’ll graduate from finishing school and be married off to a wealthy bachelor. Which is the last thing she wants. Jo dreams of becoming a writer—a newspaper reporter like the trailblazing Nellie Bly.

Wild aspirations aside, Jo’s life seems perfect until tragedy strikes: her father is found dead. Charles Montfort shot himself while cleaning his pistol. One of New York City’s wealthiest men, he owned a newspaper and was a partner in a massive shipping firm, and Jo knows he was far too smart to clean a loaded gun.

The more Jo hears about her father’s death, the more something feels wrong. Suicide is the only logical explanation, and of course people have started talking, but Jo’s father would never have resorted to that. And then she meets Eddie—a young, smart, infuriatingly handsome reporter at her father’s newspaper—and it becomes all too clear how much she stands to lose if she keeps searching for the truth. But now it might be too late to stop.

The past never stays buried forever. Life is dirtier than Jo Montfort could ever have imagined, and this time the truth is the dirtiest part of all.

Review:

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

A bit too long to my taste for the story it told, although some of the scenes at the end were worth the read.

It started with interesting ideas. Jo is a wealthy girl, who may look like she’s got everything but is tied to her family’s wishes and to society’s diktats: finishing school is just that, and once she’s out of it, she’ll marry the man who was already chosen for her, and will have to give up her dreams of writing. Journalism is so below her class that she’s not even allowed to read the newspapers, and has to do so in secrecy. She doesn’t want to give up, doesn’t want to renounce, yet deep inside, she feels there’s no other choice, that choosing otherwise will ruin her family as well as herself; she’s likely to get disallowed, and it takes some bravery to risk that fate. Jo is brave… but not so brave. And although it’s not openly stated (way less openly than the “fine women = fine breeding dogs” comparison enforced by insufferable Grandmama), I think this is perhaps why she embraces the mystery surrounding her father’s death. Not only because she’s bereaved, not only because she wants to learn the truth: because this is her first and only chance at an adventure before she gets stuffed into a life she’s may or may not really want. Selfish? Maybe. But understandable.

As often in similar stories, there was romance involved, and unfortunately, in this case, it kind of killed the mood for me. The danger and stakes Jo had to face were already a lot, enough to highlight the dilemma in her existence. The love interest thrown in the middle (without any spark in there) added drama and angst-filled scenes that clashed with what could have been otherwise a fine thread woven into the mystery: Jo’s wishes to live a life of her own choosing, as a woman who wants to be a journalist (all the more since she could’ve been of the muckraker variety, albeit a few years before investigative journalism really started to soar).

Trudy smiled ruefully. “What can I say? I merely wish to smoke. Sparky can forgive that. You, on the other hand, wish to know things. And no one can forgive a girl for that.”

Instead, this took the backstage in favour of trading one man for the other, as if the real choice here was only who to love, and not the whole package. To be fair, though, the author didn’t go with the easiest solution at the end, which in my opinion is good. Still, had there been no romantic plot, it may have allowed for more development when it came to Jo’s family, her friends, and her life as a person in general; it may also have helped fleshing out the friendships she developed, as those seemed to happen too fast, too strongly, and were not really believable, not considering what the characters did for each other later.

The tone of the story was a bit… childish, considering the themes tackled (suicide, life on the streets, prostitutes and pickpockets, digging up corpses—not a spoiler, by the way, as the first chapter opens exactly on that). Often a chapter would end on a mini-cliffhanger phrased in a way that I would’ve expected from a novel with a much younger audience, so to speak (for instance, “Jo and Eddie were trapped,” or “Jo and Eddie were locked in the closet.”). This clashed with what was a more serious story. The writing style in general border on the “telling, not showing” variety, and made for a dull reading in places. I couldn’t care that much about Jo, or Eddie, whose feelings seemed more mechanical when told in such a way.

Moreover, Jo didn’t strike me as believable: she was way too ignorant and naive for someone who supposedly had an interest in investigative journalism, read the newspapers behind her parents’ backs, and was supposed to be inquisitive and sharp. A lot of times, other characters had to spell out things for her (for instance, she took her sweet time to understand the hints at what “Della’s house” meant, when it was absolutely obvious). It would’ve worked if she had been a fully-sheltered young woman of fine upbringing who had never taken an interest to anything else than her family, gardening and parties, but it didn’t fit the wannabe-journalist part of her character.

Finally, a lot of things were predictable, both in the mystery and its clues, and in how some characters were linked to the investigation plot. I suspect the latter was intended in a Dickensian way, but I found this heavy-handed (there are a few glaring references to Oliver Twist) and not very efficient. It was too easy to guess who was related to whom, and where the whole thing was going, even though, as I wrote above, some of the ending scenes were fine, and made up a little for many more boring scenes that came before.

Conclusion: an interesting historical background and OK mystery, that however would’ve unfurled more efficiently without all the romantic angst and faffing about. 1.5 to 2 stars.

Yzabel / October 5, 2015

Review: Lair of Dreams

Lair of Dreams by Libba Bray

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

After a supernatural showdown with a serial killer, Evie O’Neill has outed herself as a Diviner. Now that the world knows of her ability to “read” objects, and therefore, read the past, she has become a media darling, earning the title, “America’s Sweetheart Seer.” But not everyone is so accepting of the Diviners’ abilities…

Meanwhile, mysterious deaths have been turning up in the city, victims of an unknown sleeping sickness. Can the Diviners descend into the dreamworld and catch a killer?

Review:

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

Interesting premise, all the more because dreams fascinate me—lucid dreaming, the power to travel in dreams and even shape them—but possibly too ambitious a book for its own good.

The good stuff:

* Dreams and dream walkers. People who can travel in dreams and remember everything upon waking up, consciously alter others’ dreams, find the spirits of the dead to ask them for answers… Meeting other dreamers like them: Henry, Ling, Wai-Mae. The many landscapes found in there, and how they may or may not have ties to the real world. As said: fascinating.

* More bits about the bigger picture: the man in the stove pipe hat. The mysterious men in suits, all with (obviously fake) names of dead presidents. Project Buffalo. Sam’s mother.

* The last chapters, and how the characters had to basically work in both worlds to save the day.

* The sleeping sickness.

* Vivid descriptions, sometimes really creepy and eerie.

And the not so good…:

* Half the characters were left aside or weren’t terribly relevant for a good two thirds of the plot. While I found Ling interesting, and Henry got more screen time, it was frustrating to see Jericho left dangling in his museum, Will pretty much out of the picture all the time, Evie doing her radio show (then partying/getting drunk, rinse and repeat), and Theta and Memphis… just standing there in the background, looking cool? I can easily appreciate a plot with a large cast, but here it felt like the two arcs (the sleeping sickness + Project Buffalo) could have benefitted from having each their own novel.

* Everything being all over the place, including the historical themes (immigrants, racial tensions, the KKK…): interesting, yet so many things to tackle that in the end, just like the main characters, they didn’t really come together.

* Inconsistencies. Why did Ling take ages to notice what should be absolutely oblivious, considering her own abilities within dreams?

* Mabel. There was no point in having her around. The poor girl should just forget about Jericho and go live her life.

* Still a lot of 20s slang. I didn’t particularly care for it, and it was repetitive. Like a good deal of the book, in fact.

Conclusion: Really good ideas, only the execution didn’t convince me, and I felt that more threads were left dangling, without any real, solid resolution (even the sleeping sickness arc isn’t 100% resolved, with questions remaining about what caused it in the first place).

Yzabel / September 21, 2015

Review: The Undying Legion

The Undying Legion by Clay Griffith

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

With a flood of dark magic about to engulf Victorian London, can a handful of heroes vanquish a legion of the undead? When monster-hunter Malcolm MacFarlane comes across the gruesome aftermath of a ritual murder in a London church, he enlists the help of magician-scribe Simon Archer and alchemist extraordinaire Kate Anstruther. Studying the macabre scene, they struggle to understand obscure clues in the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics carved into the victim’s heart—as well as bizarre mystical allusions to the romantic poetry of William Blake. One thing is clear: Some very potent black magic is at work. But this human sacrifice is only the first in a series of ritualized slayings. Desperate to save lives while there is still time, Simon, Kate, and Malcolm—along with gadget geek Penny Carter and Charlotte, an adolescent werewolf—track down a necromancer who is reanimating the deceased. As the team battles an unrelenting army of undead, a powerful Egyptian mummy, and monstrous serpentine demons, the necromancer proves an elusive quarry. And when the true purpose of the ritual is revealed, the gifted allies must confront a destructive force that is positively apocalyptic.

Review:

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

I’ve had the three novels of Crown & Key for quite a while, but only got to the second one now. Better late than never, I suppose.

I admit I still can’t reconcile the writing style in this trilogy with what I read a couple of years ago (The Vampire Empire series). Granted, I received Advanced Reader Copies, so there were likely changes in the published novels, but I’m not sure either there were that many between my copy and the final result. In general, the style felt more like a first draft’s: unedited, with a lot more telling than showing, including during fight scenes.

There are, again, good ideas and concepts here. Imogen’s need to accept her fate, even though her appearance shall ensure she cannot be easily accepted. Charlotte’s desire to find a home and be the little girl she is, to desperately use her “evil” nature to help her new “family” in spite of all the risks. Malcolm’s dilemma about her: can the hunter accept the beast? Penny’s inventions and the overall steampunk mood she brings to the story—she doesn’t get that much screen time, unfortunately, but her pistol and her bullets are fun. Necromancy (I’m always so partial to necromancy). Gruesome, bloody rituals, whose aim may be evil, or may not be: does the end justify such means?

But then, there are a lot of inconsistencies, too. Fight scenes made even weirder, as two characters do OK for instance against several werewolves, and it kind of makes you wonder what the fuss is about Charlotte (she can’t be so dangerous then, can she?). The use of necromancy: it’s cool in a creepy factor way, but doesn’t really seem to be that important when it comes to the rituals themselves, which in turns makes the use of a necromancer a little pointless (any “dark magician” can go about performing ritualistic murders). The uneven pace: a really strange combination of fast-paced action and lulls. A couple of decisions that didn’t make a lot of sense once you think about them, their only actual point being to drive the plot forward.

I’m not sure of what I should make of Kate’s and Simon’s budding relationship. The banter didn’t have as much appeal as I thought it would have; at times I just wanted them to go on with the plot and stop wasting their time. And yet, we don’t learn that much about the characters, and I would have liked said plot to focus on them in less trivial ways than it did. (So Malcolm has read Blake… Great, it still doesn’t make me feel a lot for him. What about more Malcolm & Jane, so that I could get more interested in that for the last book?)

Conclusion: 1.5 to 2 stars. Some fun scenes, fun inventions on Penny’s part, Charlotte is cute in her own ways, but I can’t bring myself to really care about the main characters. I’ll still read book 3, since I have it; I can’t promise I’ll enjoy it, though.

Yzabel / September 12, 2015

Review: Great Expectations (Manga Classics)

Manga Classics: Great Expectations by Stacy King

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Great Expectations has it all: romance, mystery, comedy, and unforgettable characters woven through a gripping rags-to-riches tale. Naive Pip, creepy Miss Haversham, beautifully cold Estella, terrifying Abel Magwitch, and the rest of Dicken’s fantastic cast are perfectly envisioned in this new adaptation in this 300-plus page volume featuring artwork by artist Nokman Poon. Manga Classics editions feature classic stories, faithfully adapted and illustrated in manga style, and available in both hardcover and softcover editions. Proudly presented by UDON Entertainment and Morpheus Publishing.

Review:

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

This series of classics turned to manga remains interesting. I read Great Expectations some 9 years ago, so I admit I forgot a lot of details, and it’s difficult now for me to properly decide if this adaptation is faithful enough or if it culled through a lot. However, I think that for someone who never read Dickens’s original story, this manga version covers the essential parts: Pip’s feelings towards his class as he grows up and moves up the ladder, his relationship with the beautiful but cold Estella, and the mystery about his benefactor. For those who have read Dickens, well… it’s a good reason to read him again, I say.

The artwork is similar to that of the other adaptations in this series: not by the same artist, but nonetheless quite pleasant to look at. Miss Havisham’s dress is plain gorgeous, and her dusty, spiderweb-covered room definitely creepy. Estella’s posture and attitude reflect the way she was brought up. Joe isn’t like the character in the novel, physically, yet no matter what his design still conveyed that he’s a good man. Actually, it’s easy to detect who is “nice” and who is “evil” from their features—and while it may be considered a graphic shortcut, it also quickly allows the reader to picture who does (or will do) what, something that would be more difficult to achieve here anyway than in the original prose form.

The pace was rushed in places, though, especially when it comes to how Pip’s take on life, people and events changed: it was wrapped up a little bit too fast, and as a result, Pip mostly came off as bratty most of the time (which he is, alright). And as the format demanded the story be restricted to 300 pages, some of its depth was lost along the way; the novel left room for more development, whereas in the manga, most characters felts rather one-dimensional.

Still, I would recommend it if only for the artwork and for its ability to make one want to (re)read Great Expectations itself. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / August 9, 2015

Review: The Contrary Tale of the Butterfly Girl

The Contrary Tale of the Butterfly Girl: From the Peculiar Adventures of John Lovehart, Esq., Volume 2 by Ishbelle Bee

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

A dark and twisted Victorian melodrama, like Alice in Wonderland goes to Hell, from the author of The Singular & Extraordinary Tale of Mirror & Goliath.

Two orphans, Pedrock and Boo Boo, are sent to live in the sinister village of Darkwound. There they meet and befriend the magical and dangerous Mr Loveheart and his neighbour, Professor Hummingbird, a recluse who collects rare butterflies. Little do they know that Professor Hummingbird has attracted the wrath of a demon named Mr Angelcakes.

One night, Mr Angelcakes visits Boo Boo and carves a butterfly onto her back. Boo Boo starts to metamorphose into a butterfly/human hybrid, and is kidnapped by Professor Hummingbird. When Mr Loveheart attempts to rescue her with the aid of Detective White and Constable Walnut, they too are turned into butterflies.

Caught between Professor Hummingbird and the demon Angelcakes, Loveheart finds himself entangled in a web much wider and darker than he could have imagined, and a plot that leads him right to the Prime Minister and even Queen Victoria herself…

Review:

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

Like the first novel in this series, I had trouble rating this one. Some aspects I really found delightful, while others left me cold.

I loved the “mad” characters’ narratives—Loveheart’s and Heap’s. The way they tell of the events from their point of view, their disjointed thoughts, the apparently random use of capital letters, how they go about killing or maiming while wishing for custard and pursuing so many different musings, all these quite nicely reflected the fact they were all but human. Heap made for a glorious villain, while Loveheart was his lovely psychopathic self. I couldn’t help cheering for him, even though he was basically just as much a monster as his nemesis. Only he didn’t kill on such a large scale. Or did he? With him, you can never tell.

I also liked seeing White and Walnut back in action. They made for a funny duo, from their fumbling steps with the cursed jewel that sent them to Wales, to how they always ended up in dire straits due to being somewhat silly. In other circumstances, I’d file them as Too Stupid To Live; however, the tone here being clearly humorous and tongue-in-cheek, it left room for that, and it was alright.

On the other hand, a lot of the other characters were either quickly dispatched or barely etched, and very little development happened in that regard (though Mrs Charm and her medieval horror novels were amusing—I’d definitely read those if they existed, I mean, come on, “The Cannibal Bishop of Edinburgh” is a winning title, isn’t it?). I would’ve wanted Boo Boo, more specifically, to be more fleshed, as she was an intriguing girl, considering how and where she was brought up.

The action felt disjointed in some parts, which was fitting when it came to Loveheart, but caused the story to be stuck at times on killing and severed heads flying in the room, but little else. The ending dragged a little, too, the very last chapter opening towards a third novel, yet the ones in between taking maybe just wee bit too long to close up the remaining characters’ storylines.

Overall, a somewhat over-the-top novel that manages to make light of dark situations, with a charming twist of language, even though its rhythm itself was uneven. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / July 24, 2015

Review: Abomination

Abomination by Gary Whitta

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

He is England’s greatest knight, the man who saved the life of Alfred the Great and an entire kingdom from a Viking invasion. But when he is called back into service to combat a plague of monstrous beasts known as abominations, he meets a fate worse than death and is condemned to a life of anguish, solitude, and remorse.

She is a fierce young warrior, raised among an elite order of knights. Driven by a dark secret from her past, she defies her controlling father and sets out on a dangerous quest to do what none before her ever have—hunt down and kill an abomination, alone.

When a chance encounter sets these two against one another, an incredible twist of fate will lead them toward a salvation they never thought possible—and prove that the power of love, mercy, and forgiveness can shine a hopeful light even in history’s darkest age.

Review:

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

A somewhat entertaining read with good ideas and a somber atmosphere, oozing despair, but also bits of hope at times. Unfortunately, I found it a bit too dry when it came to the characters and their actions, “telling” more than “showing” how they were, acted and felt.

The premise was interesting: a dark, dark age, with King Alfred trying to protect his kingdom against the invader, so full of despair that he ends up resorting to one man and the latter’s inhuman means of winning. Obviously, that sorcery turns sour, and the king has to send Wulfric, his best knight and friend, on the hunt for former Archbishop Aethelred and his army of abominations. My opinions on that part were mixed: I thought the hunt went on too quickly, somehow. On the other hand, it wasn’t the main focus of the story, or rather, it was only its first focus, so it’s a good thing that it didn’t take half the book either to be sorted.

The abominations, the sorcery that gave birth to them, were truly horrific, and I had no trouble picturing them, imagining the horror they must’ve been for the characters. These creatures had a sad side, too, being twisted without any possibility to fight back nor to revert to their original selves.
Historical accuracy wasn’t always this book’s forte. At times I could suspend my disbelief; at others, not at all (would anyone get rid of a dagger in a time where metal was quite precious, all the more with enemies being so close?). This happened when it came to language as well, with some names being really strange for that place and time (Indra…). As a story with action, it was alright, but let’s not too closely at the historical side here.

While the characters had to face challenges and trials that had some nicely ambiguous sides (Edgard’s motives were not pure, but neither were they completely evil), I didn’t really feel any connection with them. The revelations they had to come to terms with and the introspection needed from them seemed at times off-pace, at odds with other aspects of the story. I could also guess from the beginning what the twist about Indra would be, which was a bit disappointing: it couldn’t be kept a mystery from me, so when it was officially revealed, it just fell flat. (Indra herself was interesting, though, for the way she wanted to decide for herself, live the life she had chosen, not caring about whether being a woman would bar her from figthing, and also her decision to give a chance to the Beast.)

Conclusion: good ideas and vivid descriptions of the abominations, but not enough in terms of character strength to hold my attention.

Yzabel / July 8, 2015

Review: Serafina and the Black Cloak

Serafina and the Black Cloak by Robert Beatty

My rating: [usr 4]

Blurb:

“Never go into the deep parts of the forest, for there are many dangers there, and they will ensnare your soul.”

Serafina has never had a reason to disobey her pa and venture beyond the grounds of the Biltmore estate.There’s plenty to explore in her grand home, although she must take care to never be seen. None of the rich folk upstairs know that Serafina exists; she and her pa, the estate’s maintenance man, have secretly lived in the basement for as long as Serafina can remember.

But when children at the estate start disappearing, only Serafina knows who the culprit is:a terrifying man in a black cloak who stalks Biltmore’s corridors at night. Following her own harrowing escape, Serafina risks everything by joining forces with Braeden Vanderbilt, the young nephew of the Biltmore’s owners. Braeden and Serafina must uncover the Man in the Black Cloak’s true identity before all of the children vanish one by one.

Serafina’s hunt leads her into the very forest that she has been taught to fear. There she discovers a forgotten legacy of magic, one that is bound to her own identity. In order to save the children of Biltmore, Serafina must seek the answers that will unlock the puzzle of her past.

Review:

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

I will confess to requesting this book mostly because of its cover, in a “oh this looks pretty” moment. I don’t regret it, for the story itself was fairly entertaining as well, and cute to boot.

Serafina lives with her father in the basement of a huge mansion, in the last years of the 19th century in the United States. There’s a slight steampunkish atmosphere to that mansion, as it’s crammed full to the brim of trinkets and machines to make those work, notably the dynamo Sera’s father is in charge of. There’s horror, in the shape of the Man with the Black Cloak, catching children at night and making them disappear within the folds of his costume. There’s magical realism, with the forest, its legends, its old cemetery with a statue of an angel, and a quaint atmosphere, full of gentlemen and ladies, of little girls in nice dresses and little boys with their faithful dog and horses companions. There’s mystery and a sense of adventure, for Serafina knows all the corridors and chimneys and tiny places in which to hide, and moves around unseen, able to spy on people and thus to discover pieces of the puzzle that no one else had.

While the setting might look a bit far-fetched, with its dozens or so or people always staying at Biltmore and its over-a-hundred rooms (although it was indeed a real house, historically speaking), I thought it worked very well for this kind of tale, providing a greater than life place from which it would be nevertheless difficult to escape—and so, of course, the characters had to face whatever awaited them. Surrounded with hills and a mysterious forest, the mansion wasn’t the kind of house you could leave just like that, as doing so implied potential dangerous encounters in the wilderness. The mysterious man on the prowl in the halls at night lent a feeling of foreboding to the story, effectively trapping the children in their rooms… and those who would be walking around at night were sure preys.

Sera’s and Braeden’s friendship was so very cute. Sera never had any friends, due to having to stay hidden. Braden felt at odds with other children, and was wary of striking new friendships after what happened to his family. Two kids, not teenagers yet, still innocent in many ways—the rat-catcher girl living at night, the boy who preferred dogs and horses to other people—getting to find each other, understand each other better, appreciate each other no matter their differences. It was quite refreshing.

Too bad that I had my suspicions about who Serafina and the Black Cloak really were, and had them too early: the hints were easy enough to decipher for me (including a certain encounter in the forest). It didn’t matter that much, though; the story remained nicely enchanting and eerie. Foreshadowing can, after all, also lead to knowing yet to still eagerly awaiting the actual events and reveals themselves.

(If anything else, I also wondered about some of the adults’ reactions, especially the Vanderbilts sending their nephew away; in the light of the other children’s disappearances, it was somewhat logical, but the timing was weird. Wouldn’t that have put him in more danger, having to go through the forest at night?)

Nevertheless, this novel will likely be enjoyable for a lot of younger readers… and not so young ones as well, all things considered.

Yzabel / June 27, 2015

Review: The Truth According To Us

The Truth According to Us: A Novel by Annie Barrows

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

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

Review:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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