reincarnation Archives

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.

Yzabel / April 24, 2015

Review: Liesmith

Liesmith: Book 1 of The Wyrd by Alis Franklin

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Working in low-level IT support for a company that’s the toast of the tech world, Sigmund Sussman finds himself content, if not particularly inspired. As compensation for telling people to restart their computer a few times a day, Sigmund earns enough disposable income to gorge on comics and has plenty of free time to devote to his gaming group.

Then in walks the new guy with the unpronounceable last name who immediately becomes IT’s most popular team member. Lain Laufeyjarson is charming and good-looking, with a story for any occasion; shy, awkward Sigmund is none of those things, which is why he finds it odd when Lain flirts with him. But Lain seems cool, even if he’s a little different—though Sigmund never suspects just how different he could be. After all, who would expect a Norse god to be doing server reboots?

As Sigmund gets to know his mysterious new boyfriend, fate—in the form of an ancient force known as the Wyrd—begins to reveal the threads that weave their lives together. Sigmund doesn’t have the first clue where this adventure will take him, but as Lain says, only fools mess with the Wyrd. Why? Because the Wyrd messes back.

Review:

(I received a free copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review. However, at the time, it was an ARC, so some things may have changed.)

This is an extremely frustrating book to rate, because I cannot decide whether I actually liked it, or only liked parts of it, with the rest being OK, and nothing more. I’ve mulled over this for some time (since the previous evening, in fact, which is when I finished reading the book), and I haven’t come closer to a conclusion.

What I liked:

– The use of lesser known figures from Norse mythology (or, should I say, of figures that are less often mentioned and would deserve more spotlight). Everybody’s heard of Loki and Odin, and probably Baldr as well, but what about the others? This is both a strong and a weak point of this novel: if you know enough, it’s going to be alright, yet if you don’t, you’ll probably have to look up quite a few things (including places).

– The relationship: it was much closer to “two people falling in love” than to “two gay guys falling in love”. Sigmund displays both “male” and “female” traits—he comes across as “human” first and foremost. Lain isn’t even human to start with. And it doesn’t matter, and the fact that it doesn’t matter is what makes this great. I’m not a gender-driven person. I consider people as, well, “people”, not as “men” and “women”. Although the story comes close to brushing on sexuality issues at some point, with Sigmund’s father mentioning how he tried to react to his son “being gay”, it doesn’t go too far down this road. At the end of the journey, it’s about two individuals having feelings for each other, period. (The part about the reincarnated soul didn’t feel like it warped the character towards being female.)

– The Bleed concept. Not exactly original, but hey, I’m a sucker for plot devices that make the protagonist(s) fall into some nightmarish version of their world. Yes, I played Silent Hill. There’s a reason I like that type of horror-driven story.

What I disliked:

– The subverted tropes that weren’t so subverted in the end, such as the geeky characters. They felt like they were supposed to look like the stereotypical nerds, but wait, not exactly, because they meta it by cracking jokes at themselves, but by doing this they’re becoming the stereotype again, and… At some point, it was a bit too much. It may have worked for me if dealt with in a different way; unfortunately, it didn’t.

– The novel felt too long in parts, too meandering through useless happenings: gaming, the camping trip, etc. They made it read more like fanfiction, and I think they could’ve been shortened without their role in the story being lost along the way. Those parts were probably the reason why it took me so long to read Liesmith—normally, I should’ve been done in 3-4 days.

– Among such scenes were several of the romance ones. Granted, I find getting those right always tricky and difficult. Here, some were good, but others veered towards the mushy side, and contributed to that “fanfiction” aspect I mentioned above.

– Sometimes, the writing style was rather weird, with a connection made between two clauses using an italicised “([insert word])” device. However, sometimes it highlighted something that wasn’t so relevant, and it made me wonder what was the point.

– Sigmund’s friends. Their role didn’t seem so important, and made me wonder why they were here. Either they could’ve been downplayed, or should’ve been fleshed out some more. In my opinion, they kind of hung in between. (This is worth for many characters in general in this story. Sigmund was the only one that felt “real”.)

And after writing this review, I still can’t decide if I liked it, if I’d recommend it… Let’s say that on a scale from 1 to 10, I’d give it a wee 5, an “it’s OK” as far as opinion goes, and a “maybe” as to whether I’d recommend it or not.

Yzabel / March 25, 2015

Review: The Girl At Midnight

The Girl at Midnight by Melissa Grey

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

Beneath the streets of New York City live the Avicen, an ancient race of people with feathers for hair and magic running through their veins. Age-old enchantments keep them hidden from humans. All but one. Echo is a runaway pickpocket who survives by selling stolen treasures on the black market, and the Avicen are the only family she’s ever known.

Echo is clever and daring, and at times she can be brash, but above all else she’s fiercely loyal. So when a centuries-old war crests on the borders of her home, she decides it’s time to act.

Legend has it that there is a way to end the conflict once and for all: find the Firebird, a mythical entity believed to possess power the likes of which the world has never seen. It will be no easy task, though if life as a thief has taught Echo anything, it’s how to hunt down what she wants . . . and how to take it.

But some jobs aren’t as straightforward as they seem. And this one might just set the world on fire.

Review:

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

I really wanted to like this book, all the more since I had loved Daughter of Smoke and Bone, but there’s a fine line between “if you liked this, you’ll like that as well” and “it’s so similar you get to wonder where one ends and the other begins”. Not very original. Same comment regarding the comparison with the Shadowhunters series (which isn’t so original to start with, but that’s another story). As a result, I kept being distracted by the plot turns and character dynamics that were either too close to the one series or too close to the other; in the end, The Girl at Midnight didn’t manage to stand on its own for me.

Very obviously, we have Echo/Karou, Caius/Akiva, Ala/Brimstone. Ruby is reminiscent of Madrigal’s “friend” in DoSaB. (There’s more, but details would lead to spoilers). The relationship between Caius and Dorian is pretty similar to the one between Jace and Alec, including the way it develops when Jasper/Magnus waltzes in. So many common points made it difficult to see the characters for who they could have been, and they remained closer to copies, instead of appearing like people with personalities of their own. Granted, the teasing between Jasper and Dorian was funny, but I couldn’t shake off my impression of “hey, I’ve already seen that…”, along with the feeling that relationships in general evolved too quickly in this book.

Relationships: they were all over the place, and not too subtly. I wasn’t aware that Echo had a boyfriend until it smacked me in the face, leaving me wondering where that guy came from. (Not to mention that this poor boy seemed to be here just because one love interest wasn’t enough and another one was deemed necessary. Basically, he was treated like dirt.) Also, too many mushy descriptions, with our heroine too busy being driven by the love triangle to actually make me feel that she was really involved in the plot—although she does have a fairly important part, one that could have been really good to read about if things hadn’t gone too fast.

It’s not a long novel, but the pacing was definitely strange: lots of events happening in little time, relationships developing too fast, and yet the story was slow. The world-building wasn’t enough to my liking: we get all those nice thresholds, jumping through portals, magic powder, sometimes magical descriptions of places (bonus points for Strasbourg, this city is absolutely lovely—trust me, I lived there for more than 10 years)… but the two races at war, the war itself, didn’t feel like “solid”. I would’ve wanted to know so much more about those, how they came to be in such a conflict, the souring relationship between Tanith and Caius, how the Drakharin and Avicen lived… More information in that regard would have allowed me to see the world this story’s set in as more strongly grounded. (I guess this would have been less of a problem if I could have fallen back on the characters, only I couldn’t, due to the aforementioned similarities. Same goes for the writing: it hadn’t the flow of DoSaB’s, nor did it bring a really fascinating atmoshpere to Echo’s surroundings.)

Conclusion: there were good ideas in this novel, but most often they were too close to stronger, existing ones that it was very difficult to see The Girl at Midnight as a self-contained story.

Yzabel / November 7, 2013

Review: Redemption

Redemption by C.J. Barry

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Reya Sinclair is a Redeemer of Souls. Her mission is to give Earth’s most depraved sinners a shot at redemption just before they are slated to die. Her own redemption is on the line as she fulfills her duties, leaving a trail of dead bodies in her wake. It’s all going perfectly well until one detective takes notice, possibly bringing her salvation to a halt.

Thane Driscoll is a good cop who’s seen too many bad guys get away, including the man who murdered his father. He exacts his own style of justice, even if it costs him his humanity. A string of mysterious deaths leads him to a woman who’s not quite human and might hold the key to finding his father’s killer.

When death and shadows descend, New York City becomes a battleground for the forces of light and dark. As the body count rises and sparks fly between them, Reya and Thane race to uncover a terrible truth. Can one man hell-bent on revenge and one woman determined to save her eternal soul be enough to keep the planet from spiraling into darkness?

Review:

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

Redemption was an interesting read in more than one way, dealing with themes that left fewer room to complete black and white thinking than what appeared at first.

The notion of free will permeates it, and from beginning to end, the characters remain able to make their own choices–no matter how wrong those might be. I appreciated how Reya, for instance, didn’t try to force her views on Thane, knowing that whatever he chose, he had to do so himself, or it wouldn’t be worth much in the eye of the universe. Thane’s desire for revenge plays right into this, and leads to questioning oneself: would we seek revenge, too? Are we so sure that our motives are “pure”, and not fueled despite, our best intentions, by less than stellar deeper feelings? Personnally, I found such questions interesting to delve into.

I also liked the system behind the reincarnations: souls are the ones who choose which next life to give a try to, along with a goal to fulfil, but as they’re sent into these lives without memory of what they themselves decided, they find themselves 1) ignorant of whether what they’re doing is the right thing or not, and 2) feeling like they don’t have free will, when in fact they had all along. This is a bit of a conundrum to wrap one’s mind around, but one that is definitely thought-provoking.

The writing was okay. Not particularly brilliant, efficient in some places, yet somewhat dull in others, with a little too much telling. On the other hand, it remains efficient throughout the story when it comes to bringing in new information, and avoids the pitfall of numerous exposition paragraphs.

The main problems I had with the book were the lull in the middle (it took me some time to pick it up again at some point), and the large scope that eventually made things difficult to follow. I got the bigger picture, but in several parts, the narrative seemed to jump too quickly from one event to the other, in contrast with slower moments that could’ve been scrapped to leave more room to explanations. I think I’d also have wanted to see more of Reya’s job as a Redeemer (so many imperfections hidden behind her perfect physical facade, and so many moments when she could just stumble and fail in this life), of Thane doing his job as a kind of vigilante instead of a regular cop. The overall plot could’ve easily spanned over two books without dragging, considering what kind of scale it unfolded on, so it wouldn’t have been impossible.

I’m not 100% sure I’ll pick the next book in the series, but I can’t tell either I wouldn’t. I’m right in the middle with this one.

Yzabel / October 5, 2013

Review: One Great Year

One Great Year by Tamara Veitch

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

As the world descends from a Golden Age into darkness and brutality, Marcus has been reincarnated an exhausting number of times. Selected to become an Emissary, it is his duty to protect the ancient secrets. His adventure is heightened because he secretly consumes a serum that allows him to have memory from one lifetime to the next. In doing so, he sets himself up for thousands of years of torment, loneliness, and searching.

Desperate to never forget his soulmate, Theron, and never sure if he was truly meant to be an Emissary, Marcus struggles through lifetimes to overcome his cruel and powerful nemesis, Helghul.

Fusing the adventure of Indiana Jones with the introspection and wisdom of Eckhart Tolle, One Great Year takes readers on an epic journey through history, following characters who are born and reborn as they struggle to triumph over evil.

Review:

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

I must unfortunately admit I had a very hard time finishing this book, and only did so because I was supposed to review it.

The ideas behind it are interesting, and could indeed have spanned for quite an epic over millenia. Besides, I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of reincarnation and those linked to it (such as that of the jati), and being able to also see the characters in some of their previous lives is something I tend to like in books. But I found the execution lacking here.

What turned me off almost from the beginning was how everything, or almost, was told instead of shown, which made up for a dull style, and one hard to stand for so many pages. As a result, connecting with the characters was difficult, both because this kept me distanciated from them and because of how one-dimensional they seemed. I never got why Helghul made such a choice in the cave, for instance, and mostly he appeared like a tantrum-throwing kid who only wanted Theron because Marcus wanted her. What were his initial motives, anyway? As for Theron, she was described as so perfect in every way in her first life that she was just unbearable; then her sole purpose in the following ones seemed to be the object of Marcus’s quest, as well as a kind of prize for Helghul. There was also quite a lot of head-jumping, with the point of view quickly shifting from one character to the other and, again, telling the reader about everything, including a bit of foreshadowing (to be fair: I like the latter when it’s done through events, only not when it’s through explanatory sentences).

Another big peeve of mine was how Marcus, basically, totally wasted his ‘gift’. I thought his having memories of his past lives would prompt him to *do* something in each new life, if only to further his chances of finding Theron, but he didn’t seem to do much, especially in his latest life, with so many means at one’s disposal. Somehow, I found myself rooting for the bad guys, because they, at least, had been planning ahead and showing signs of cleverness. With heroes like those, no need for enemies, I guess.

It’s too bad. I really wanted to like this story. But I just couldn’t.

Yzabel / January 2, 2013

Review: Incarnate

Incarnate by Jodi Meadows

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

New soul

Ana is new. For thousands of years in Range, a million souls have been reincarnated over and over, keeping their memories and experiences from previous lifetimes. When Ana was born, another soul vanished, and no one knows why.

No soul

Even Ana’s own mother thinks she’s a nosoul, an omen of worse things to come, and has kept her away from society. To escape her seclusion and learn whether she’ll be reincarnated, Ana travels to the city of Heart, but its citizens are afraid of what her presence means. When dragons and sylph attack the city, is Ana to blame?

Heart

Sam believes Ana’s new soul is good and worthwhile. When he stands up for her, their relationship blooms. But can he love someone who may live only once, and will Ana’s enemies—human and creature alike—let them be together? Ana needs to uncover the mistake that gave her someone else’s life, but will her quest threaten the peace of Heart and destroy the promise of reincarnation for all?

Review:

I tend to get attracted to themes such as reincarnation, and I was interested in the idea of a finite amount of souls coming back year after year, knowing each other, and how one of them disappearing/being ‘replaced’ could throw off the balance… or bring something new to an old world that may have ended up stalling.

I liked the story quite enough; its prose was easy and flowing, and I had no difficulty picturing the world it was set in. It’s a world with a lot of secrets, some of which are only brushed on and leave the reader with the certainty that there’s much more to it than just ‘souls being recincarnated’. What about the walls with a heartbeat, how come Ana’s the only one who feels at unease with that? What about that freaky temple? Why’s the center called ‘Heart’ and the country ‘Range’ (now there *must* be a meaning behind that… I’d be disappointed if there wasn’t). Although we don’t get all the answers, it’s one of those stories that prompt me to think, try to anticipate, to imagine, and I liked this; it doesn’t happen to me with all books.

Including sylph and dragons, and potentially other mysterious creatures, adds a different, fantasy-like touch that was quite pleasant, even though it made me wonder why people in Heart, with lifetimes of experience and experimenting, hadn’t found a way yet to fight them more efficiently (lack of urgency? of interest? something else?). Also, Sam’s various encounters with dragons were definitely intriguing. Here’s to hope that there’ll be more about those aspects in the next book, because it seems too strange to be just some random coincidences. In any case, I liked how the attacks were described; those creatures seemed really impressive.

There are a few character-related things, too, I can’t wrap my mind around, or am not sure I liked or disliked. It’s a weird feeling. Ana’s reactions, for one, make sense given how she was raised, but grew old after a while. I’m thinking of her tendency to go into “everyone hates me” mode when quite a few people, actually, held out a hand to her and welcomed her into their world. It was like their efforts and presence over the weeks amounted to nothing, but one wrong comment from some random person would trigger an angsty episode. So, yes, understandable in the beginning, yet quickly tiring after that, especially with Ana flaring at the nice ones and keeping meek in front of those who despised her. The same way, Li’s cruelty seemed gratuitous (and if it was a way for her to make Ana pay for ‘stealing’ Ciana’s soul or whatever, then everyone and their dog seemed totally oblivious to it, and totally gullible, which was weird).

I’m not sure what to make of the romance either. It didn’t feel that useful to me, and there were moments, especially in the middle, where the dialogue/scenes about it dragged on and on and became a little boring. There was too much of it, which detracted from time spent on advancing the plot, and developing other characters (I’d have wanted to know more about Stef, Whit and the others, for instance). On the other hand, there was no love triangle, and since the latter has become such a crutch of YA novels in general, not having one was definitely refreshing.

I wasn’t too thrilled about the ending, which felt rushed–in part, maybe, because so much time had been devoted to the romance, and the rest had to be wrapped up faster? And the reason (and person) behind the newsoul(s) was kind of a letdown.

I’d rate this book a 2.5 stars. It has too many annoying aspects for me to give it a high mark. However, since I liked its world and atmosphere, and it made me spend an enjoyable moment nevertheless, I’m upping it to 3 all the same.