Yzabel / April 6, 2016

Review: Broken Dolls

Broken DollsBroken Dolls by Tyrolin Puxty

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Ella doesn’t remember what it’s like to be human – after all, she’s lived as a doll for thirty years. She forgets what it’s like to taste, to breathe…to love.

She helps the professor create other dolls, but they don’t seem to hang around for long. His most recent creation is Lisa, a sly goth. Ella doesn’t like Lisa. How could she, when Lisa keeps trying to destroy her?

Ella likes the professor’s granddaughter though, even if she is dying. Gabby is like Ella’s personal bodyguard. It’s too bad the professor wants to turn Gabby into a doll too, depriving her of an education…depriving her of life.

With time running out and mad dolls on the rampage, Ella questions her very existence as she unearths the secrets buried in her past; secrets that will decide whether Gabby will befall the same fate…

Review:

[I received a copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.]

Mixed feelings regarding this novel: while I found the premise intriguing and a bit creepy (dolls who used to be human beings, possibly with a psychotic streak, I mean, come on, think “Chucky”), the explanation behind it all didn’t convince me.

From the beginning, Ella’s life is clearly on the twisted side, with a sort of Pygmalion-and-Galathea streak: she’s living in the attic of a mysterious Professor, who turned her into a doll and seems to love her, but also to keep her locked inside. She cannot go out, she cannot talk to other dolls or people, and all she has—even though she seems content with it at first—is dancing, her bedroom in a chest, and a recorder that she uses to narrate adventures. So when the Professor brings in another doll, Lisa, of course our little heroine is happy… except Lisa quickly starts asking too many questions and behaving strangely, because *she* remembers what it is to be human, and being a doll doesn’t sit with her. At all. No wonder she’s going a bit cray cray here, I think anyone would.

And as Lisa’s “madness” grows, Ella starts questioning more and more things, too, especially when Gabby, the Professor’s granddaughter, comes to spend a few days in the house: Gabby is dying from an incurable illness… and wouldn’t she make a pretty doll, too?

Well, as I said, I liked the story in the beginning; however, when the science part actually was revealed, it just didn’t work. The Professor’s goals were idealistic and positive, yet kind of naïve and unbelievable—I don’t think the achievements he was striving for could be attained just like that. (Although it would be nice if they could.) This was too wishy-washy to my liking. Suspension of disbelief kind of fell and crashed to the floor.

There were a few plot holes, too, that I was hoping would be covered, and… weren’t. What about the epidemics, for instance? A 95% mortality rate, and specifically targetted at O blood type people: that’s quite a lot of potential victims (about 35-40% of the US population is in this group?). It was on the news on TV in the novel, sure, but like an after thought, and it was difficult to believe that people weren’t more in a panic about it.

Also, the whole “she’s a goth so it explains why she’s psychotic (and why she used to cut herself)” was a) uncalled for, b) a stupid cliché. It may have been intended as a joke, but it didn’t feel like it. (Yes, I am totally biased in that regard. There’s so much more to the goth subculture than those images that, in fact, are exactly the ones that hurt, and make people bully those who embrace said subculture. Do not start me on that.)

Conclusion: good ideas in this story, and even though I found it more “OK” than “I really like it”, I may check out other works by this author later. Too bad the second half didn’t follow so much with the whole “creepy dolls” vibe from the first half, as I would’ve liked that more…

Yzabel / April 4, 2016

Review: You Were Here

You Were HereYou Were Here by Cori McCarthy

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Jaycee is about to accomplish what her older brother Jake couldn’t: live past graduation.

Jaycee is dealing with her brother’s death the only way she can – by re-creating Jake’s daredevil stunts. The ones that got him killed. She’s not crazy, okay? She just doesn’t have a whole lot of respect for staying alive.

Jaycee doesn’t expect to have help on her insane quest to remember Jake. But she’s joined by a group of unlikely friends – all with their own reasons for completing the dares and their own brand of dysfunction: the uptight, ex-best friend, the heartbroken poet, the slacker with Peter Pan syndrome, and… Mik. He doesn’t talk, but somehow still challenges Jayce to do the unthinkable-reveal the parts of herself that she buried with her brother.

Review:

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

An OK read, but one that ultimately didn’t leave much of an impression on me.

It seemd interesting at first—although, as usual in such cases, I don’t really see the point of having a first person narrative for one character, and a third person one for the others. Including comics pages for one of the characters was a nice idea, as it enhanced how the guy very seldom talks, and the “silence” of the panels, combined with the black and white pictures, felt appropriate enough. I was less convinced by Bishop’s chapters: I liked seeing him through his art only… but it was way too centered on his ex-girlfriend, and since I didn’t care much about her, it didn’t do much for me.

Unfortunately, while the premise is what drove me to request this book, I soon came to realise that didn’t care a lot about any of the characters. Jayce was grieving in an intense way, keeping people at a distance by hiding behind “truth”. Natalie was bit of a pushover, with a controlling family that made her trying to control everything in turn, and secretly wanting to be someone else, to the point of “running away” by going to college—and failing to change because she planned her new life up to the clothes she’d wear, and on which days she’d wear them. Mik: OK at first, however once his selective muteness was explained, it felt that he got over it too easily. Zach: got better towards the end (his circumstances are actually rather sad), but very annoying in a “silly jock with a bottle problem” in the beginning. Bishop: too much moping about Marrakesh.

And I guess that’s what didn’t work in my opinion: too much drama and angst, too much of an emo streak, at the expense of real character development. Also, I guess I was hoping for more urban exploring, more strange places where Jaycee would’ve been trying to feel the fading presence of her brother (the asylum was definitely creepy, for starters).

It wasn’t totally bad… It just didn’t strike me in any way, except for a few moments when a character or other finally developed somewhat, and some more eye-rolling when it became too drama-laden.

Yzabel / April 1, 2016

Review: Please Don’t Tell My Parents I’ve Got Henchmen

Please Don't Tell My Parents I've Got HenchmenPlease Don’t Tell My Parents I’ve Got Henchmen by Richard Roberts

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

What would middle school be like if half your classmates had super powers? It’s time for Penny Akk to find out. Her latest (failed) attempt to become a superhero has inspired the rest of the kids in her school to reveal their own powers.

Now, all of her relationships are changing. She has a not-at-all-secret admirer, who wants to be Penny’s partner almost as much as she wants to be Penny’s rival. The meanest girl in school has gained super powers and lost her mind. Can Penny help her find a better one? Can she help an aging supervillain connect with his daughter, and mend the broken hearts of two of the most powerful people in the world? And in all this, where will she find time for her own supervillainous fun, or even more dangerous, to start dating?

It’s going to be a long, strange semester.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.]

I have been following this series from its first volume, which I really liked, so I’ll admit to being slightly biased. I like the main characters, the world of superheroes and villains developed here—everybody knows they exist, with more or less admiration and acceptance of what they do, and with a subverted Masquerade trope (supers don’t hide per se, but there’s an unspoken rule about “not getting personal”, that is, not revealing people’s day-to-day identities).

And I’m feeling torn, because I liked this third volume, yet also found it kind of weak in terms of plot. Perhaps because it’s more focused on a part of Penny et al.’s life we hadn’t really seen yet, that is, growing up, and finding out that dividing one’s life between villainous activities, trying to become a hero, and just good old norma activities, is time-consuming and difficult.

In that regard, it was interesting. Other kids are making their coming out, refusing to hide their powers any longer, and a wind of acceptance is blowing over the school. The club activities, the new lair, those were both fun to read about, and also leading to more thoughtful considerations.

I quite liked Marcia’s development, although I wish we had been given some more information about how exactly she turned out like that (“she has the scrolls” is a bit of a shortcut: how did she survive them?). Her powers are of a kind that I find fascinating, that is, would you stay sane if nothing could hurt you, or not for long? Or would you start experimenting, looking for the one thing that may do you harm? It made me think of Claire’s experiments at the beginning of the “Heroes” series, only in a more.. unhealthy way. But then, I much prefer this Marcia to theuppity girl from book 1.

Quite a few things that left me frustrated, though:

– This is really more a “slice of life” book, without any real plot apart from the loose “teenagers gathering and developing their powers”. As mentioned above, it allowed to delve deeper into our three wannabe-heroes (or wannabe-villains?) problems and potential choices for the future, and to reveal more about existing characters, like Bull and his family. On the other hand, there was no real main plot here, ideas would spring up and unfurl into short events that would then die down, and good plot devices were lost in the middle. What about the robot? (Having her around more would’ve been fun… and I think we could do with a new Vera by now.) What exactly happened to Barbara to make her another kind of unpredictable, but perhaps still as dangerous as her sister? Also, we’re having many secondary characters introduced (the club) and this is screen time may have been better used on the Inscrutable Machine (who didn’t do enough villainy to my liking—I want to see them dostuff back together more often!).

– Still no real insight as to Ray’s family, which makes his position hard to relate to: it seems his parents would hate him if they were to learn he’s a super, and so he both wants to stay and to leave… but that’s only what we’re told. We never get to see his family. We don’t know what they’re like. Regular people, from what I rememberfrom book 1… or not so much? Are they heroes or villains in disguise? Or maybe people who got badly hurt in the past by some hero or villain, and now they despise everything “super”? I really, really want to know, and I really hope there’s more to Ray’s folks than the little we’vebeen told so far. It can’t be so simple. And if it has to be “that bad”, then I want to see it, too.

– Are the Akks so blind as to their daughter’s activities? Or are they pretending not to know? Deluding themselves? By now, this is more than troublesome. Maybe Penny’s father might get away with this (scientist more focused on his own inventions, and all that), but it’s difficult to keep seeing the Audit as this calculating, probabilities- and statistics-wielding ex-hero, as this sort of human computer, when she’s so oblivious to what’s so obvious. The “bumbling blind adult” trope isn’t working.

Honestly, I don’t like giving less than 3 stars to this book. But…

Nevertheless, this novel raises some interesting questions and potential future arcs at the end, and I’d still want to see those in a next installment, if it meant more antics from the trio. Among other things: what is the Inscrutable Machine to do, to choose, considering that they seem to be really talented at villainous stuff (with the good deeds backfiring), yet still find themselves instinctively helping people as well as causing mayhem? And what is Spider up to?

Yzabel / February 27, 2016

Review: Tell the Wind and Fire

Tell the Wind and FireTell the Wind and Fire by Sarah Rees Brennan

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

In a city divided between opulent luxury in the Light and fierce privations in the Dark, a determined young woman survives by guarding her secrets.

Lucie Manette was born in the Dark half of the city, but careful manipulations won her a home in the Light, celebrity status, and a rich, loving boyfriend. Now she just wants to keep her head down, but her boyfriend has a dark secret of his own—one involving an apparent stranger who is destitute and despised. Lucie alone knows the young men’s deadly connection, and even as the knowledge leads her to make a grave mistake, she can trust no one with the truth.

Blood and secrets alike spill out when revolution erupts. With both halves of the city burning, and mercy nowhere to be found, can Lucie save either boy—or herself?

Review:

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

A retelling of Dickens’s “A Tale of Two Cities”, with a futuristic and urban-fantasy twist: the two cities are the two halves of New York, Light and Dark, divided according the type of magic their respective citizens can wield. Light magic for healing, for dazzling, for fighting in the name of what is “good”, through the use of bejeweled rings. And Dark magic, feeding on blood and death, but necessary nonetheless because only a Dark mage can save a Light one when the latter finds themselves poisoned by the build-up of their own power, cristallised in their veins. And in the middle of this, the dopplegangers, always born to the Dark, and cursed to die young, bearing the faces of whose people they saved by simply being created, thus taking their misery upon them.

Lucie Manette used a to be a citizen of the Dark, until her mother vanished and her father got jailed, ending up so traumatised he cannot function properly some days. After Lucie devised a plan to make him escape, they went to live with a couple of friends in Light New York, and that’s where she discovered another kind of life: one where she could be close to powerful people, one where she found love with Ethan Stryker, handsome and heir to a brilliant future.

As a retelling, I thought this worked surprisingly well in some ways: the story followed quite a few of the themes of the original one. The torn family escaping a tumultuous place and finding refuge in an apparently more peaceful one. The motif of the “double”, dealt with here with the dopplegangers—Carwyn is obviously Sydney, and his reputation as “depraved” comes from his being a doppleganger, with all the rumours about them (they have no souls, they’re born from death, etc.). The mistaken identity. The love triangle (because there is a love triangle in Dickens’s novel, so even though I usually don’t care for them, at least here it was to be expected as a motif, too). Lucie as the narrator, yet still used as a symbol, still considered as the girl to be paraded, so to speak. Sacrifice and “doing what’s right”. I found those themes, and was glad to see them, and at the same time to see how different the plot had turned out.

On the other hand, quite a few things contributed to making this book not work for me. The characters, for starters, rather weak and underdeveloped. For most of the story, Ethan was the bland cookie-cutter nice boyfriend without much of a personality. Carwyn was snarky and all, but it was difficult to get a real feeling for who he was, and I admit that mostly what I ended up with were my memories of the character of the original novel, as a trope rather than a person. Lucie… Lucie was supposedly strong, but she kept making stupid decisions that I couldn’t understand, not in a character who was supposed to be “street-savvy”. Stupid upon stupid decisions, and for someone who had spent two years navigating a different world, and the years before surviving in the Dark, she was definitely bordering on the too stupid to live variety, in spite of her magic and the way she perceived herself (she does acknowledge when she makes a bad decision… afterwards—and then promptly makes another one). This character was baffling, really, and every time she made me think she was strong, she immediately destroyed that by doing something stupid again. (And what about going to such lengths to save her father, then never talking to her family in the Dark? It didn’t seem like they had done anything wrong…)

The plot was also slow-paced, a bit confusing at first, relying on a few chapters of info-dumping to make the setting clear. I’d say about half to two thirds of the story were somewhat boring, The last 30% made the novel more interesting again, however the ending felt too open (I don’t know if there’ll be a second installment, if this is a standalone novel or the beginning of a series). The situation in both cities isn’t solved. What happens to Lucie and her beloved ones isn’t solved either, and could go wrong in so many ways that we could do with an epilogue or an additional chapter. Lucie’s status as a symbol isn’t made clear either: will other people let her stand up for what she believes in, or will she be discreetly smothered in a corner after a while? After all, she said it herself: “the Golden Thread in the Dark” (not a fan of this tile, by the way, however it echoes well Lucie’s hair in AToTC) was a child, pure and innocent, but once the child becomes a woman, people start perceiving her differently, and the image she projects is different, too…

Last but not least, the typical “pocket-world syndrome” often found in dystopian stories. New York is clearly not the only place where people can use Light and Dark magic (trains go to other places outside of the city, for instance), but there’s never any mention of another type of government than the Light council, no mention of other cities, no National Guard or whatever to intervene when the revolution starts, and so on. It’s like Light & Dark New York are the only cities left on Earth, or as if the rest of the world doesn’t care, won’t do anything, won’t even turn an eye on its problems. I always find this odd.

All in all, it *was* an interesting retelling in several ways, and a darker kind of YA as well, but fell short of what I thought it could’ve been.

Yzabel / February 24, 2016

Review: It’s A Wonderful Death

It's a Wonderful DeathIt’s a Wonderful Death by Sarah J. Schmitt

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Seventeen-year-old RJ always gets what she wants. So when her soul is accidentally collected by a distracted Grim Reaper, somebody in the afterlife better figure out a way to send her back from the dead or heads will roll. But in her quest for mortality, she becomes a pawn in a power struggle between an overzealous archangel and Death Himself. The tribunal presents her with two options: she can remain in the lobby, where souls wait to be processed, until her original lifeline expires, or she can replay three moments in her life in an effort to make choices that will result in a future deemed worthy of being saved. It sounds like a no-brainer. She’ll take a walk down memory lane. How hard can changing her future be?

But with each changing moment, RJ’s life begins to unravel, until this self-proclaimed queen bee is a social pariah. She begins to wonder if walking among the living is worth it if she has to spend the next sixty years as an outcast. Too quickly, RJ finds herself back in limbo, her time on Earth once again up for debate.

RJ is a snarky, unapologetic, almost unredeemable, very real girl. Her story is funny and moving, and teens will easily connect with her plight. Prepare to meet the Grim Reaper, who’s cuter than you’d expect; Hawaiian shirt–wearing Death Himself; Saint Peter (who likes to play Cornhole); and Al, the handler for the three-headed hound that guards the gates of Hell. This cast of characters accompanies RJ through her time in the afterlife and will do their best to gently shove her in the right direction.

Review:

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

Cute in some ways, although I really couldn’t get along with the main character, which is my main gripe with this novel: I get that RJ had to start with room to change in terms of personality and actions, since otherwise there wouldn’t have been such a fuss about whether she should be allowed to go back to living… but she was seriously annoying. What she considered witty and snarky comebacks were ridiculous and whiny, and I definitely won’t fault any of the other characters for calling her a spoiled princess. She came off as a brat, which made it very difficult to root for her and to want to see her unfair circumstances changed.

And they were unfair, so at least one could understand why she felt entitled to try and fight that “oh, I accidentally killed you instead of that other person I was meant to reap… Whoops, too bad, let’s move on, welcome to the afterlife, please get in line.” It’s just that after a while, my reactions were to roll my eyes at yet another iteration of RJ blabbing and putting her foot in her mouth when probably anybody and everybody else would have understood *now* was the time to shut up. Maybe it’s just me who can’t stand such characters. Or maybe she was just, well, more annoying than she was meant to be: befitting her personality, but still not something I’d like to read about for 200 pages. It didn’t help that so many people in the afterlife tended to view her as special, as deserving to see her case appealed—I couldn’t see why so many people would side with her. Her success would set a precedent, yet I can’t believe people in general would root for a self-entitled brat without having second thoughts about it. (Granted, some characters were in it for the power struggle and for cashing in favours: this at least felt logical.)

Fortunately, after RJ goes through her “trials”, she does become a more pleasant person to follow—not really because of her actions, in fact, but because her shark was more toned down and felt more “well-placed” than “bratty”.

Another problem, that I don’t know how to describe exactly: the changes she went through seemed drastic and a bit too much on the unbelievable side for me to buy them (from self-centered bully and special snowflake to nice girl who stands up for her friends and does good deeds). However, I think this has much more to do with RJ’s trials, which I felt were too short and handled too quickly. Basically the focus was much more on the “world of the afterlife”, on secondary characters like Cerberus’ handler, on the angel presiding over the tribunal and the antagonistic relationship between him and Death, and this left little room for RJ actually reliving some important moments of her past and figuring out what she had failed to do the first time. Had those been more in the spotlight, had there been more of such moments (or had these three just been longer, with more conundrums for RJ to tackle), it would’ve made her change more convincing. As they were, they ended up an afterthought, a sort of checkpoint, rather than the turning points the blurb made me expect them to be. The desired outcome was so obvious anyway…

Daniel and Madeline were nice characters, too, with Madeline casting a fresh breeze over them all: knowing she was going to die, and nevertheless choosing to live her life on her own terms, in joy and friendship (sorry, the “I’m terminally ill so I’m entitled to be an asshole” attitude doesn’t sit well with me either).

Overall the plot was sweet, though simplistic, with only a couple of twists that I could see coming, to be honest. Like a nicely wrapped gift box whose contents you’ve already guessed. It won’t be more to me than “it’s nice”. I didn’t like the book, I didn’t dislike it, and it’ll likely end up as one of those reads I’ll forget quickly.

Yzabel / February 16, 2016

Review: The Dark Days Club

The Dark Days Club (Lady Helen, #1)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 ThingThis 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 / December 30, 2015

Review: Mad About the Hatter

Mad About the HatterMad About the Hatter by Dakota Chase

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

This isn’t his sister’s Wonderland….

Henry never believed his older sister, Alice’s, fantastic tales about the world down the rabbit hole. When he’s whisked away to the bizarre land, his best chance for escape is to ally himself with the person called the Mad Hatter. Hatter—an odd but strangely attractive fellow—just wants to avoid execution. If that means delivering “Boy Alice” to the Queen of Hearts at her Red Castle, Hatter will do what he has to do to stay alive. It doesn’t matter if Henry and Hatter find each other intolerable. They’re stuck with each other.

Along their journey, Henry and Hatter must confront what they’ve always accepted as truth. As dislike grows into tolerance and something like friendship, the young men see the chance for a closer relationship. But Wonderland is a dangerous place, and first they have to get away with their lives.

Review:

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

A slightly different take on Wonderland, with a highschooler character instead of a little girl, and with Alice (and her brother) as contemporary young people. Not the usual Wonderland, but why not? The world had that delicious, in a nonsensical, atmosphere, with its inner “logics” that appears silly at first, yet also holds its own explanation when you think about it. That’s something I had liked in Carroll’s story: how much “wonder” is in fact governed by its own rules, if you care to dig deeper and have a look at them.

However, this novel didn’t accomplish much in the end. It was more light-hearted than I had expected, and the dangers the characters had to face never felt really prominent. The Red Queen and her guards could’ve been much more of a threat, but never were. The action ended up being mostly Henry and Hatter wandering around (in dangerous areas that didn’t feel as wonderful and at the same time dangerous as they did in the original novel), with a thin enough plot, all things considered. A bit of a twist after the second third, sure… and that was all.

I didn’t care much for Henry either, who didn’t seem to have much of a personality, and looked more the pouting teenager on the verge of throwing tantrums (at least the Red Queen’s were to be expected). The mutual attraction between him and Hatter was cute, but… nothing more. Barely any character development here, and not the kind of relationship I thought I’d find here. It also hovered too much between actual romance and barely-touched-upon romance, which in turn made it a weird mix: either too much or not enough. As if, past some point, the novel couldn’t decide whether to take things further or not.

A few brain farts as well when it came to the writing style: at times emulating the original tale’s, at others much too close to spoken modern style. The clash between both wasn’t very pleasant.

Conclusion: cute, fluffy, and a nice read if you don’t want to think too much. While readable, it was nothing exceptional.

Yzabel / December 27, 2015

Review: Marked

Marked (The Soulseer Chronicles)Marked by Sue Tingey

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

With no family and very few friends, Lucky’s psychic ability has always made her an outcast. The only person she can rely on is Kayla, the ghost girl who has been with her since she was born.

But Kayla is not all that she appears.

And when Lucky is visited by a demonic assassin with a message for her friend, she finds herself dragged into the Underlands – and the political fight for the daemon king’s throne.

Lucky, trapped in the daemon world, is determined to find her way home… until she finds herself caught between the charms of the Guardian Jamie, the charismatic Daemon of Death Jinx – and the lure of finding out who she really is.

Review:

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

I almost gave up. But I don’t like not finishing a book I’m supposed to review, so I made an effort.

First reason is because I didn’t exactly get what I expected. When I got the novel, the blurb I read led me to believe the story would be focused on paranormal investigation. The actual story, though, is more of the paranormal/supernatural romance type, with very little investigating in it. Not saying this is bad per se, but I’m not a huge proponent of romance at the best of times, and this one, like many others should I say, just didn’t work.

For the record, this is the blurb I first read:

In a world filled with charlatans, Lucinda “Lucky” de Salle’s psychic ability has always made her an outcast, even as it has also made her a sought-after (if reluctant) investigator of paranormal phenomena. With no remaining family and very few friends, she has only one “person” she can rely on–Kayla, the ghost girl who has been her constant companion since she was born.

When Lucky is called in to investigate a spectral disturbance at the all-girls school she attended as a child, she isn’t surprised. She herself had had a terrifying confrontation with the troubled spirits of two girls who died in the attic room. But when Lucky goes up to the attic, she discovers that the vicious little girls are the least of the problem–a demon has been released into this world, a creature of such malevolence that even the spirits of the two girls are afraid. When the demon demands that Kayla be handed over to him, Lucky realizes that this case will be like no other she has ever experienced.

For one thing, it seems that her chatty, snarky spirit companion is not what she has always seemed to be…

Second reason is… the one that always makes me grit my teeth and feel like climbing up the curtains and scream: “Stop holding back information!” Typically goes as follows: Important Character finds him/herself in dangerous circumstances, and needs to tread on eggs; however, in order to properly tread on eggs, you obviously need background information—background information that other characters have, bur refuse to disclose for Some Reason, usually of the “you don’t want to know” or “don’t look” kind. Which is the best way of getting Important Character killed, or at least committing some Horrible Faux-Pas, but whatever, I guess we’re dealing with some Schrödinger’s Logics here.

So when half the book is filled with such inane moments, of course I’m bound to be annoyed. Lucky being a bit of a doormat in that regard, too easily allowing shifty characters to derail the conversation, didn’t help.

Third: Male Posturing. I am oh so fed up with all those hot sexy love interests immediately crapping out testosterone as soon as they end up in the same room. I can understand Lucky not wanting to be involved with guys if it’s meant to be like that all the time. Also the whole “now you bear my mark” thing, a.k.a “You’re Mine In Whatever Way I Choose, by the way I never asked your opinion before lumping this on you but it’s fine, right, I’m sure you don’t mind”. In a nutshell (I hate that expression so I’m going to use it just out of spite): doormat female character being treated like an item, and thrown under false pretenses in a world where women’s most prized value is to allow their future husbands access to positions of power (and then they can pop out kids, then get offed when they’ve outlived their usefulness).

And there you also have the plot, not making much sense, and without much happening. The last chapters became a little more interesting (although still with the whole let’s-be-sex-toys-together thing at moments when it just shouldn’t have been there); yet what led to it could probably have been avoided had Lucky been a little less dumb, and her “protectors” more forthcoming with what may be taking place behind the scenes and how to start playing the political game. Seriously, you don’t dump a person into such a situation “for your own safety”, then tell her “actually you’re in great danger here too”, then add “but I’m not going to explain to you how it works because Reasons.”

I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on the next one. Definitely not my thing.

Yzabel / December 19, 2015

Review: The Pyramids of London

The Pyramids of London (The Trifold Age, #1)The Pyramids of London by Andrea K. Höst

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

In a world where lightning sustained the Roman Empire, and Egypt’s vampiric god-kings spread their influence through medicine and good weather, tiny Prytennia’s fortunes are rising with the ships that have made her undisputed ruler of the air.

But the peace of recent decades is under threat. Rome’s automaton-driven wealth is waning along with the New Republic’s supply of power crystals, while Sweden uses fear of Rome to add to her Protectorates. And Prytennia is under attack from the wind itself. Relentless daily blasts destroy crops, buildings, and lives, and neither the weather vampires nor Prytennia’s Trifold Goddess have been able to find a way to stop them.

With events so grand scouring the horizon, the deaths of Eiliff and Aedric Tenning raise little interest. The official verdict is accident: two careless automaton makers, killed by their own construct.

The Tenning children and Aedric’s sister, Arianne, know this cannot be true. Nothing will stop their search for what really happened.

Not even if, to follow the first clue, Aunt Arianne must sell herself to a vampire.

Review:

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

Good ideas in terms of world building, although in general, I found the novel a little confusing.

Lots of concepts introduced here, with references to our world: Prytennia is obviously Britain, the Roman Empire and Egypt speak for themselves, and so it was very easy to picture the setting, geographically speaking. There’s still royalty in “Britain”: check. Lutèce is Paris: check (shall I admit to knowing quite a few cities’ old Roman names thanks to “Asterix”?). Various deities associated to various cults, like Cernunnos or Lakshmi: check. At first, it may look like a mish-mash, but it makes a lot of sense in a context where, many centuries ago, the Gods “Answered” people’s prayers and actually descended on the world, or made themselves incarnate in other ways. The Egyptian “gods”, for instance, who gave birth to several strains of vampirism, each with its own powers (the Shu control winds, the Thoth-den use their blood to heal people, the Ma’at can tell who’s lying…). Or Sulis (who in our world used to be worshipped at Bath), who manifests herself through three women, the Suleviae. For someone who knows a little about mythology, or even knows the very basics and wants to learn more, this book gives a few tracks to follow.

However, I didn’t get the same feeling here I got from the blurb. Prytennia’s climate seems to be warm (I immediately imagined cities close to the desert, with people wearing “skirts” instead of trousers), but I didn’t feel the urgency of being “under attack from the wind itself”. The political intrigues from the Swedes, through their representative Gustav, seemed to be more of an afterthought than something that would really affect Prytennia. The “selling oneself to a vampire” part didn’t seem that bad: more a contract for a decade or so, without aging, and I guess there are so many worse ways to indenture oneself. I don’t know if this came from the plot itself (Arianne and her nieces and nephew investigating to know what happened to the dead parents) or from the narrative, the way it was woven. Maybe I was expecting something else.

I also couldn’t push myself to really care for the characters. Arianne’s calm take on basically everything dampened the predicament she was in (potentially turning into a vampire against her will—that’s not a spoiler, you know about it in the very first chapters). The romantic interests came a little out of nowhere, and I’m not sure if they were exactly important when pitched against the backdrop of “who dunnit” and “there’s a secret behind what our parents were working on”. When some characters disappeared, I wasn’t so invested, because I hadn’t gotten to know them more beforehand, and they were more sidenotes for me than people. Mostly I felt that the characters were removed from themselves, dispassionately looking at their own lives from afar, and so in turn I looked at them from afar, too.

Still, I liked the world developed here. Perhaps a bit too much was shoved in the reader’s face from the beginning (any book that needs a glossary tends to be of that kind), but some more careful reading on my part allowed me to quickly grab what it was all about. And it’s definitely a good thing that a lot of the characters are women, and they do Important Things, and it’s completely normal because women in this world get to do Important Things all the time anyway, and it’s not only the men’s turf. (The Queen is part of a goddess incarnate and gets to mingle with dragons, one of the princesses commands a very special kind of guard/spies, girls get to study engineering and can land apprenticeships in workshops, or even have workshops of their own, without society making them feel “improper”… Etc.)

I may decide to grab the second volume at some point. I don’t know yet. I’m hovering around the 2.5 stars mark here, in between some parts I found “OK” and others that made me think “this is a good idea, I like it”. (Vampires especially: they aren’t emo creatures, they become like that due to a symbiotic relationship with specific strains living in their blood, they have souls, they believe in an Egyptian-like Otherworld where they have to strengthen their ba before being able to carry on.) If the next book can get past the somewhat-confusing approach to this world, and focuses more on the characters in a way that would make me feel involved, then I’ll be interested.