mystery Archives - Page 9 of 13

Yzabel / April 2, 2015

Review: The Well

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

‘One summer was all it took before our dream started to curl at the edges and stain like picked primroses. One night is enough to swallow a lifetime of lives.’

When Ruth Ardingly and her family first drive up from London in their grime-encrusted car and view The Well, they are enchanted by a jewel of a place, a farm that appears to offer everything the family are searching for. An opportunity for Ruth. An escape for Mark. A home for their grandson Lucien.

But The Well’s unique glory comes at a terrible price. The locals suspect foul play in its verdant fields and drooping fruit trees, and Ruth becomes increasingly isolated as she struggles to explain why her land flourishes whilst her neighbours’ produce withers and dies. Fearful of envious locals and suspicious of those who seem to be offering help, Ruth is less and less sure who she can trust.

As The Well envelops them, Ruth’s paradise becomes a prison, Mark’s dream a recurring nightmare, and Lucien’s playground a grave.

Review:

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

Another one for which I can’t decide on a rating. Because I did like it, but I wasn’t awed, and I was torn between moments of beautiful writing, and moments when said writing seemed to be here just to delay the outcome. The feeling was definitely weird.

I liked the tense, oppressive atmosphere of The Well: a place that looked like some kind of Promised Land in the middle of the Waste Land, yet also a tainted paradise, one that could only bring the sterility of death. I liked the contrast between the emphasis placed on a “land for women”, which could hint at more promises of life, but in the end, it was all a lie, and only ended with said life being stifled and denied the right to exist. As a container for such themes, this novel was good. Maybe not the most subtle piece of work in that regard, but good nonetheless.

I was less thrilled by the way it kept hesitating between what it wanted to be: a murder mystery, or a supernatural story? I wished for more information about the drought and about the mysterious quality of The Well. Was why that place so “blessed”? What made it exceptional? The blurb led me to expect some preternatural explanation, something that would have justified the way the Ardinglys were rejected almost like witches of old—by this, I mean an explanation more complex than jealousy and people wanting what they couldn’t have. It begged for a revelation that I never got, focusing instead on the mystery/murder aspect. I would have had less trouble with that if it had taken a definite stance regarding Ruth’s story of an isolated woman who doubts herself and seeks for a frightening truth: that story didn’t need the backdrop of a drought and miraculous land to be told. The Rose of Jericho, Ruth’s love life coming apart at the seams, Lucien’s story… Those could stand on their own.

The mystery highlighted all the doubts and shortcomings of human psyche. The charges against Mark in the beginning, how they contributed to add a “what if…” side to his character, poisoning other people’s minds against him, including that of his own wife. The Sisters, led by Amelia, the cult that got hold of Ruth’s mind. Angie, not the perfect mother, yet the loving one all the same, who had her faults but still tried to get better, only to have to face a “what if” of her own when it came to her son.

However, I found it too easy to guess who had committed the crime, and the way Ruth descended into her delusions seemed just a tad bit far-fetched. Maybe her isolation, getting estranged from her husband, could be a valid explanation; or maybe not. She didn’t strike me at first as someone who would fall so easily into the clutches of a cult. Still, this is part of the novel’s ambiguity: who can tell what kind of person is a “ready-made victim”? Nobody can. Sometimes you just can’t suspect at all, you never see it coming.

What was somewhat annoying, as said above, was how the novel beat around the bush. On the one hand, there were really beautiful, poetic moments, vivid descriptions that made The Well come alive, with its good sides and with its faults. On the other hand, I clearly had the feeling at times that the author was delaying, only to lead to revelations that weren’t so striking all in all. In my opinion, the book could have benefitted from more editing and shortening here.

I’d rate this a 3 to 3.5 stars (depending on the scale used). Overall, I liked it, though I’m not sure I’d read it again.

Yzabel / March 29, 2015

Review: Walking the Labyrinth

Walking the Labyrinth by Lisa Goldstein

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Private investigator John Stow’s questions about Molly Travers’ family pique her interest when relatives that she supposed dead and buried begin to appear, alive and working real magic.

Review:

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

2.5 stars, between “OK” and “I liked it.” I very much enjoyed the magical/illusion aspects in this book: the concept of the Labyrinth, questioning people and their motives, “taking a new turn” when you learn something new, and how just about anything could be turned into a lesson—often not the most obvious one. The Order, done partly through the journal of one of its earliest members, had one of those late Victorian flavours that I tend to like. Secret societies, people trying to get a glimpse of mysteries through communing with spirits… And power, the “Gift” passed from parents to children in the Allalie family, something that could be used for good (for instance, whether it was on purpose or not, Dodd did stop drinking after that night in the prologue), but also for less than shiny endeavours.

The writing itself was fairly good, and managed to evoke vivid imagery of the magic shows in the 1920s and 1930s (or at least, what I’d expect magic shows to be like). The antics, relationships, tensions and weirdness of Molly’s family were easy to grasp, and definitely interesting.

What prevented me from enjoying this story more were the characters first and foremost. While the premise was intriguing and fascinating, I couldn’t connect with any of them. The Allalies were too shrouded in mystery and half-lies to feel like actual people, and Molly often struck me as bumbling around without any idea of what she was doing: not in terms of investigating (after all, she wasn’t a private eye or a cop, so it made sense she wouldn’ have such reflexes etched in her), but as a person. Maybe it’s just me, but from the beginning, her behaviour when Peter was concerned just made me feel like smacking her to put some sense into her. This made it harder to reconcile with how she evolved towards the end, going from clueless to maybe too resourceful.

There were also a few instances of characters popping out of nowhere, more as plot devices than as people: the man in England, the people from the Order… Their roles didn’t feel really defined, and they would’ve deserved more spotlight in order to look like they had a place of their own in the story. Same goes for clues that appeared without enough groundwork having been laid beforehand. This ended for me as a strange mix of predictability (the Allalie’s family name was so obvious) and “wait, what, where did that come from?” reactions. The story tended to plod, and there were moments I found myself reading in the hopes I’d get more out of it, rather than because I was genuinely involved in it fully. The journey mattered more than the ending, but I wished said journey had streamed more seamlessly, without the constant feeling of being driven by plot devices.

Overall: worth borrowing, but maybe not buying.

Yzabel / March 23, 2015

Review: The Raven’s Head

The Raven’s Head by Karen Maitland

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Vincent is an apprentice librarian who stumbles upon a secret powerful enough to destroy his master. With the foolish arrogance of youth, he attempts blackmail but the attempt fails and Vincent finds himself on the run and in possession of an intricately carved silver raven’s head.

Any attempt to sell the head fails … until Vincent tries to palm it off on the intimidating Lord Sylvain – unbeknown to Vincent, a powerful Alchemist with an all-consuming quest. Once more Vincent’s life is in danger because Sylvain and his neighbours, the menacing White Canons, consider him a predestined sacrifice in their shocking experiment.

Review:

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

The theme of this story was interesting enough, but unfortunately, I never felt it grab me, and found myself at times not really caring whether I was keeping on reading, or taking a break to read something else.

The descriptions and atmosphere were vivid enough. This isn’t glamourised historical fiction: when people pee in the street, they do, and when they’re in a ghastly environment, they are. The author’s writing made it fairly easy to picture the characters’ surroundings and their lives—the sinister manor, Gisa’s daily drudgery, the boys trembling in fear at night at the abbey, expecting to be seized never to return…

However, the characters themselves didn’t leave me with a lasting impression. I liked how they were portrayed with their imperfections (Vincent especially: he started with justifying his bad actions as if they were logical, and I must say I quite enjoy such characters, bordering on sociopathic in their way of seeing the world while being the heroes of their own story). But only a few hours after finishing this novel, I’m already not exactly sure anymore of what they did, nor of what the plot tried to achieve. It took some time to get there, and mostly the protagonists were too passive, with things happening around them, or to them, without prompting a strong enough reaction. Gisa’s passivity was all the more infuriating that she tried to help someone, but so slowly that her repeated thoughts of “wanting to save that person” felt fake (and a mere plot twist to lead to the decisions she made later).

In fact, the characters were here mostly to make the plot happen without giving vibes of being real people, with lives of their own. Their background stories looked interesting, but remained just that: in the background. All that was very weird, because the chapters were short, yet seemed to drag at the same time.

I also didn’t get—still don’t—the necessity for a switch between the first person and third person, complete with present tense. I have no idea why this kind of style keeps popping in novels more and more, and I wish I could see its point, because so far, it’s been more jarring than anything else. It didn’t achieve anything for me, didn’t give me a sense of immediacy, and only made me keep wondering “wait, why are we doing that again”? Which in turn kept breaking my reading stride.

Not an infuriating book, but one that I’ll proceed to quickly forget.

Yzabel / February 22, 2015

Review: Something Coming Through

Something Coming Through by Paul J. McAuley

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

The aliens are here. And they want to help. The extraordinary new project from one of the country’s most acclaimed and consistently brilliantly SF novelists of the last 30 years.

Something Coming Through and its sequel Into Everywhere will extend, explore and complete the near future shared by the popular and highly acclaimed short stories in the Jackaroo sequence, including ‘The Choice’, which won the 2012 Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award. They present new perspectives on one of the central ideas of science and science-fiction – are we alone in the universe? – through two separate narratives.

Something Coming Through is set in a recognisable but significantly different near future London: half-ruined by a nuclear explosion, flooding and climate change; altered by the arrival of aliens who call themselves the Jackaroo.

Into Everywhere moves from a desert world littered with the ruins and enigmatic artifacts of a dozen former clients of the Jackaroo, through a quest across a brutally pragmatic interstellar empire, to a world almost as old as the universe.

Review:

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

3.5 to 4 stars.

This novel, while predictable in parts (in a more traditional, “cop-oriented” way), raised some interesting points in terms of what to expect in a near-future, or a parallel present, shaped by the presence of aliens. Namely the mysterious Jackaroo, who showed up some thirteen years prior to the beginning of the story with shuttles and fifteen wormholes leading to just as many new worlds for humans to colonise. Worlds ertswhile inahbited by creatures long gone and forgotten, leaving only behind strange, “Elder Culture” artefacts. Meanwhile, Earth is falling prey to memes, ideas birthed into the mind of people who have been touched by ~~the Vorlons~~ some of those artefacts. And who knows how exactly the Jackaroo were responsible for this? Or their unscrutable associates, the !Cha, story-lovers who use plots to gather information used in turn to woo their mates?

Intersting, because the Jackaroo never revealed their true purpose, and because their gift was definitely a double-edged sword. Sure, it allowed humanity to recover from ongoing problems (crime, pollution), but others developed in turn, and the fifteen worlds turned into mirrors of Earth, with McDonald’s and Starbuck joints popping up on Mangala and, no doubt, other places. Crime developed there just as it did on Earth, and a lot of things and events made it clear that humans basically did to these colonies what they had done to their motherworld—perhaps worse, even, due to the fact they hadn’t had to “work hard” to get to these new places, served on a silver platter. The “benevolent” Jackaroo, in other words, might just be trying to repeat an experiment they did with other planets and will do again, some kind of sick experiment to see what the “lesser” races would do when gifted with space travel they didn’t have to develop themselves.

The name itself is also reminiscent of the Australian word “jackaroo” and its potential etmology: wandering people, watching over cattle. At least, this is how it felt to me, and what I believe the author wanted to achieve: making readers question the purpose behind the Jackaroo’s actions, all the while swathing them under layers of a thriller-and-chase plot mixed with a more typical seasoned-cop-and-rookie-partner murder investigation.

The more typical parts, as I wrote above, were a little predictable, especially Vic’s, whose background is fairly unoriginal in that kind of story. However, I liked how they entwined after a while, and how you have to pay attention to the dates at the beginning of each chapter. This type of narrative can be frustrating, as you keep jumping from Chloe to Vic to Chloe to Vic again, and are left on semi-cliffhangers most of the time… but it’s a style I love, and so I wasn’t disappointed.

On the downside, the characters weren’t that much developed. Vic is moulded on a fairly standard TV-show cop-type (divorced guy, been working for the force for years, somewhat jaded but still trying to make a difference…), Nevers and Harris are also somewhat predictable, and I would have liked to know more about Fahad and his family. Chloe’s background was definitely interesting, yet it also made her somewhat aloof and distanciated—something that stood to logics, considering what happened to her mother, only it made it harder to feel involved in her quest, as she was more carried by the plot than truly active at times. (In her defence, she wasn’t a dumb heroine, and was definitely aware of who was trying to manipulate her, and who intended to off her anyway once she wouldn’t be useful anymore.)

Nevertheless, barring the somewhat weak characterisation, I found the world described here—drop here by drop there, with some info-dumping, but never too much to my liking—intriguing, and I wouldn’t mind knowing more about it in a sequel (or in a prequel).

Yzabel / February 16, 2015

Review: The Room

The Room by Jonas Karlsson

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

A quirky and unsettling tale, of dark humour and strange realities, about a bureaucrat, an open plan office and a secret room…

The Authority looks favourably upon meticulousness, efficiency and ambition. Bjorn has all of this in spades, but it’s only in the Room that he can really shine. Unfortunately, his colleagues see things differently. In fact, they don’t even see the Room at all.

The Room is a short, sharp and fiendish fable in the tradition of Franz Kafka, Samuel Beckett and Charlie Kauffman. If you have ever toiled in an office, felt like the world was against you or questioned the nature of reality then this is the novel for you.

Review:

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

This was a pretty strange read in many ways, but also a compelling one. I kept wondering about the mysterious room, whether it existed or not, whether Björn (the main character) was crazy or not, whether what happened in the room actually happened or not… because no matter what, everything was always just a tad bit too ambiguous to allow me to draw clear conclusions. On the one hand, it was slightly frustrating. On the other, it was interesting.

Björn is clearly a narrator of the totally unreliable variety. He’s also not very likeable, in that he thinks himself better than the others, more skilled and more knowledgeable—and at times, he’s exactly that, while at others, he appears as useless, so once more, you’re kept wondering what to believe. I found him pretty interesting, though, if considered from a sociopathic viewpoint (this kind of character tends to grab my attention: they’re trainwrecks in the making, fascinating and repulsive all at once). He had a very clear, definite image of himself that may or may not match what other people perceived, yet in his mind, the fault was very seldom his; and when he questioned himself, I would wait for the other shoe to drop. In other words, he wasn’t “likeable” as a human being, but as a study of a certain type of mindset, he certainly was.

Daily life in the Authority/the Office turned out a quirky study as well. Various social behaviours, people lined in their little cubicles, procedures, work habits, workplace events and how one can quickly fit in or, on the contrary, commit a fatal faux-pas… It wasn’t nonsense bureaucracy at its finest, but it still lent the whole book a very peculiar atmosphere, with everybody stuck with everybody else (the only character who’s seen being home is Björn, and even then it doesn’t really feel like him, much more like “the place where to be when you’re not at work”). Everybody had their flaw and good sides, but knowing what they are was to be judged according to Björn’s descriptions and to how he perceived his colleagues’ reactions. Definitely a clash of realities here, as one can empathise with the other workers, with how they felt the newcomer was strange and hostile… and at the same time, Björn’s narrative still manages to sow doubt, considering that, all in all, what he wants is to find his place in his new job, as well as a career to aim for.

Commenting on the writing style itself is a bit difficult, since it’s a translation. I found it fluid and easy to follow, with short chapters that broke the flow just like Björn’s personality seemed to be broken, too (if this makes sense). They also felt like a kind of internal filing system used by the character to compartmentalise and gain control over an environment different from what he expected. This format worked fairly well for me, considering the kind of story told here.

Yzabel / February 3, 2015

Review: The Rook

The Rook by Daniel O’Malley

My rating: [rating=5]

Summary:

“The body you are wearing used to be mine.”

So begins the letter Myfanwy Thomas is holding when she awakes in a London park surrounded by bodies all wearing latex gloves. With no recollection of who she is, Myfanwy must follow the instructions her former self left behind to discover her identity and track down the agents who want to destroy her.

She soon learns that she is a Rook, a high-ranking member of a secret organization called the Chequy that battles the many supernatural forces at work in Britain. She also discovers that she possesses a rare, potentially deadly supernatural ability of her own.

In her quest to uncover which member of the Chequy betrayed her and why, Myfanwy encounters a person with four bodies, an aristocratic woman who can enter her dreams, a secret training facility where children are transformed into deadly fighters, and a conspiracy more vast than she ever could have imagined.

Review:

This is one large doorstopper I picked from the library, but that I didn’t regret lugging around in my bag for two days.

I really liked how the author wove past-Myfanwy and present-Myfanwy story lines using letters, a device that could’ve been cumbersome and artificial, yet that wasn’t in my eyes: sure, lots of “exposition”… done in a believable way that didn’t intrude upon the plot, on the contrary. Reading about the Checquy was both amusing and fascinating, and the cast of powers gathered by the organisation was interesting. I especially liked the idea behind Gestalt—one mind controlling four bodies.

The humour, too, factored in big, as it was just the kind of light, tongue-in-cheek touch I tend to easily appreciate. It happened in dialogues and in characters’ thoughts, as well as in how the plot unfurled. For instance, right after Myfanwy wonders how the oganisation works, we’re treated to a “Title: How the organisation works” letter from her past self. This may or may not work for everybody; it sure did for me. Bonus points for Ingrid the Terrific Assistant, who was very professional and funny at the same time.

I pondered about a few things at first, thinking they were just a wee bit too convenient: how amnesiac!Myfanwy still managed to be very efficient at her job, and how she discovered how to use her powers so quickly, as well as differently. However, thinking back upon it, and on how her present state of being came to be, it made sense. (Explaining why would be a spoiler, so let’s just say that reading about it between the lines in the resolution chapters made sense to me, and that having a new personality start over, with an almost blank slate, helps in not letting the past hamper one’s abilities.)

I’ll definitely pick the next installment once it’s finally out.

Yzabel / January 20, 2015

Review: The Silence of Six

The Silence of Six by E.C. Myers

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

“What is the silence of six, and what are you going to do about it?”

These are the last words uttered by 17-year-old Max Stein’s best friend, Evan: Just moments after hacking into the live-streaming Presidential debate at their high school, he kills himself.

Haunted by the image of Evan’s death, Max’s entire world turns upside down as he suddenly finds himself the target of a corporate-government witch-hunt. Fearing for his life and fighting to prove his own innocence, Max goes on the run with no one to trust and too many unanswered questions.

Max must dust off his own hacking skills and maneuver the dangerous labyrinth of underground hacktivist networks, ever-shifting alliances, and virtual identities — all while hoping to find the truth behind the “Silence of Six” before it’s too late.

Review:

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

3.5 stars, because the book wasn’t without faults. In fact, I’d probably give it 4 stars in other circumstances—that is, if I didn’t know a lot to the online world, computers in general, and hackers. Some parts I found to be too “didactic”, which would be good for a reader with a less technological background, yet tended to become annoying after a while (I really don’t need to be taught what a DDoS attack is). However, this is a “it’s not you, it’s me” kind of fault, and I don’t doubt it’s precisely what would help another person enjoy the story more.

The events in the last third of the book also seemed to move just a tad bit too fast, making things somewhat confusing. I guess I would have liked to see more hide and seek there? Or a different approach? It’s actually hard to tell. I just know that I went “huh?” in a couple of places.

I liked the main characters, the ways they went through to meeting, and how they generally thought of clever little tricks to avoid being noticed (how to trick facial recognition software, etc.). Perhaps their relationship was a little forced, but it didn’t matter that much within the flow of the story.

The reflections the book leads to when it comes to social media and their impact on our lives, were interesting as well. So many people use their real names on such media, handing out very specific information, without realising that it could be exploited. Reminding this to younger readers (middle-schoolers, the “YA crowd”…) is certainly not a bad idea at all. Anyway, the use of social media, through the giant “Panjea”, was both a reminder and a wink, and I appreciate that kind of things.

Overall, it was a light, fast-paced read that could be quite enjoyable for a lot of readers. Had I been “younger” (less experienced, with less computer/online knowledge than I have now), I’d probably have given it 4 stars.

Yzabel / January 10, 2015

Review: The Girl on the Train

The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Rachel catches the same commuter train every morning. She knows it will wait at the same signal each time, overlooking a row of back gardens. She’s even started to feel like she knows the people who live in one of the houses. ‘Jess and Jason’, she calls them. Their life – as she sees it – is perfect. If only Rachel could be that happy.

And then she sees something shocking. It’s only a minute until the train moves on, but it’s enough.

Now everything’s changed. Now Rachel has a chance to become a part of the lives she’s only watched from afar.

Now they’ll see; she’s much more than just the girl on the train…

Review:

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

3.5 to 4 stars. Perhaps not the most original thriller ever for someone who’s read a lot of such books already, but for me—since I seldom read that genre—it was an interesting story. Guessing who the culprit is turned out to be relatively easy, but this book is of the kind where the whodunnit doesn’t really matter: it’s how it happened, how and why the person got there, that is the most important part. The fact that the narrators are all more or less unreliable, especially Rachel, also add to the confusion, in a good way.

The story is told in first person, from three women’s points of view, and each of those give a different insight and different sorts of tidbits, allowing to piece things together gradually. They’re all flawed protagonists in their own ways, and this can be seen as either annoying or fascinating, depending on where you stand on the matter. Sometimes, they seemed pretty weak and clingy (as in, being unhappy about their lives but not exactly doing much to change things); on the other hand, I guess we all know that big changes in general aren’t so easy to enact as it sounds, and so those protagonists are both relatable and slightly grating, because they might force us to face some problems of our own. (Had I read this book during another period in my life, I might have been uneasy, feeling like I was confronted with things I should be doing, but wasn’t.)

Whether one ends up liking or disliking the protagonists doesn’t really matter, because it’s clear they aren’t meant to be a hundred percent likeable, and that their roles are never all black or all white. Rachel’s alcohol problem and disturbing voyeuristic side (watching people from the train, imagining what their lives may be, then wanting to make her own place in those lives…). Anna who acts all righteous but who still was the proverbial bull in a chine-shop. “Jess” whose boredom is understandable, but who also twists truths in her own narrative. “Jason” who may not be such the perfect husband. And so on.

I would probably not call this book “the next Gone Girl“, though… but then, I don’t like comparing novels in general in such a way. This one stands on its own.

Yzabel / December 7, 2014

Review: The Accidental Alchemist

The Accidental Alchemist by Gigi Pandian

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

When Zoe Faust–herbalist, alchemist, and recent transplant to Portland, Oregon–begins unpacking her bags, she can’t help but notice she’s picked up a stow away: a living, breathing, three-and-half-foot gargoyle. Dorian Robert-Houdin is no simple automaton, nor is he a homunculus; in fact, he needs Zoe’s help to decipher a centuries-old text that explains exactly what he is. Zoe, who’s trying to put her alchemical life behind her, isn’t so sure she can help. But after a murder victim is discovered on her front porch, Zoe realized she’s tangled up in ancient intrigue that can’t be ignored.

Includes recipes!

Review:

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

1.5 stars. An interesting premise, but one I had trouble stayed focused on, and I just could never push myself to read more than a chapter or two before switching to something else.

The first chapters, with Dorian popping into Zoe’s life, his predicament, the book that needed deciphering, hinted at a good modern fantasy story. Unfortunately, the mystery that followed was too flat, and took too long to properly unveil. It could have been more of an adventure, yet it wasn’t. There wasn’t even that many alchemical concepts and knowledge to munch on.

I’d chalk a large part of this to the main character going around in circles about some things, always recalling her ability with plants, how she was not a night person, needed her healthy foods, etc. There was more cooking and vegan recipes than actual alchemy here. I know they say alchemy kind of started in the kitchen and all that, but the metaphor didn’t bring much to the story for me. I mean, it’s the Accidental Alchemist, not the Accidental Cook, so…

In turn, the sense of urgency got lost somewhere along the road. After a murder and another murder attempt, with Zoe having the potential to be seen either as the culprit or as the next victim, I would have expected more tension. When clues finally started appearing, and Zoe at last started taking them into account, I was past caring, and just wanted to finish the novel to see if Dorian could be saved.

The ending, by the way, was too rushed to my liking. I don’t have anything against McGuffins and McGuffin-plots used to introduce deeper, larger stakes; but I tend to feel frustrated when a story begins with such a plot, goes on reminding us regularly that it’s important, then brings a quick resolution after having focused on something completely different. It just makes me stop caring. (I’ll be honest, though, and mention that while I was reading this book, I was also reading another one that suffered from the exact same problem of “rushed ending”; I suppose they slightly “tainted” each other for me in that regard.)

(A minor quibble as well regarding Dorian’s speech patterns: speaking as a French expat living in the UK, seeing bits of French thrown in the middle of sentences is definitely weird. Whole sentences or exclamations, all right—it’s only natural to start speaking in your own language, before remembering you should switch to another one. But in my own experience, when this happens, we usually tend to stop and start again in English. For instance, I haven’t heard any other French expat finishing an English sentence with “n’est-ce pas”, so when the character did it, it kind of felt like “Hey, here’s a reminder I’m French”. Not needed in my opinion.)

On the bright side, I still think the basic idea was great, and I liked Dorian’s character in general, as well as the questions his existence raised: how he came to be, sure, but also how other people perceived him. When he recounted having to pass for a disfigured man who only worked for blind cooks and refused to let anyone else in the room, so that he could do what he loved without people freaking out, that was awfully sad—and a bit reminiscent of relationships such as the ones between Frankenstein’s monster and De Lacey. I always like when similar themes arise in a story (even though it was underexploited here).

Yzabel / November 29, 2014

Review: The Dark Victorian: Risen

The Dark Victorian: Risen by Elizabeth Watasin

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

“Way will open.”

She is Artifice.
A resurrected criminal and agent of HRH Prince Albert’s Secret Commission.
An artificial ghost.
A Quaker.

He is Jim Dastard.
The oldest surviving agent of the Secret Commission.
An animated skull.
A mentor to newly resurrected agents.

In a mechanical and supernatural London, agents of Prince Albert’s Secret Commission, their criminal pasts wiped from their memories, are resurrected to fight the eldritch evils that threaten England. Amidst this turmoil, Jim Dastard and his new partner Artifice must stop a re-animationist raising murderous dead children. As Art and Jim pursue their quarry, Art discovers clues about her past self, and through meeting various intriguing women—a journalist, a medium, a prostitute, and a mysterious woman in black—where her heart lies. Yet the question remains: What sort of criminal was she? A new beginning, a new identity, and new dangers await Art as she fights for the Secret Commission and for her second life.

Review:

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

This novel is quite a short one—too short, in fact, for the scope it seemed to want to reach. Maybe it’s a case of “first book in a series syndrome”. Anyway, I found the premise interesting, but kept wishing it went deeper into some of its aspects, and developed things more than it did.

The plot felt somewhat muddled, rushing in parts, not really going anywhere in others. I’m still wondering what exactly it was about. A reanimator, sure, and a gallery of other characters that looked like they were introduced for later use mostly, because while they helped with things like clothing, they didn’t really do more. But I didn’t exactly feel a sense of urgency, and it was as if some hints and links between events were thrown in, in a disjointed way.

The banter between Art and Jim was likeable at times, definitely weird at others, taking space that might have been better used for more scenes, more plot development. Art’s way of speaking was also rather quirky, the whole Quaker business leaving me perplexed: I didn’t understand to which degree it was relevant. She seemed like an interesting character enough as it was, with a lot of potential, without the need to add such quirks. Maybe reading the sequel would allow me to appreciate them more… or maybe not. I honestly can’t tell.

I would also have liked to know more about this organisation resurrecting criminals while wiping their memories. Not “more” in terms of secrets (every such organisation needs secrets, to be revealed later), but as in “a larger view of its agents”. Who else was involved? How does the Secret Commission operate, since everybody appears to know about it and either respect or fear their badges? There’s some potential here as well, and I’m positive it would have deserved more spotlight in this first installment. Just a few more agents walking around, to make me feel like Jim, Art and Fall weren’t the only ones.

Art’s leaning towards other women was also dealt with a little too strangely to my liking, in that the way it was revealed, the way it unfurled, felt wonky and jarring. It’s probably a pacing problem more than anything else, because I had the same feeling with other scenes, as mentioned above. However, it was also good to see it accepted by other characters as something that just happens, something that “is”. Though Jim makes a few quips about it, it’s in a friendly way, the same kind of way he comments about other situations.

I’m not sure I’d pick the next book. It’s more a 1.5* for me, leaning towards a 2, because there are intriguing elements about which I’d like to learn more, so you never know… But not if it’s as disjointed as in this one.