An accomplished mystery that blends organically with its chosen setting, Child 44 is a genuinely gripping read.
My buddy-reader and I have our own littAn accomplished mystery that blends organically with its chosen setting, Child 44 is a genuinely gripping read.
My buddy-reader and I have our own little TBR, and this has been on it for at least a year. We finally started it in January of 2022 and were having amazing discussions about it... mainly because it's one of the few books where we haven't been grumpy about skill and style. Child 44 is well crafted, no debate, and that left us wide open to focus on the story itself.
But then Russia loudly took center stage as current real-life villains, and suddenly this historical suspense novel set in Stalin's Soviet Union felt like...too much. Not bad, just a doubling down of atrocity that made it hard to escape the realities of our world right now. So, we took a step back and moved on to rabidly judging the skill and style of Sanderson and set Child 44 aside.
I picked at it off and on, by myself, until the mystery got its feet under it and started gaining momentum.
There's been a string of children killed across a region, and MGB agent LEO Demidov begins making connections between the incidents. In a country where the state has decreed that its citizens are happy and murder doesn't exist, trying to catch a killer is more dangerous than you know.
Smith uses the setting expertly, highlighting the atmosphere of oppression, fear, and distrust while Leo must face his crisis of conscience. During a time when people had to turn on neighbours and even family to ensure their own survival, the book is an exciting exploration of which moral lines are uncrossable.
Also fascinating was the examination of Leo and Raisa's marriage and how it evolves.
There are a few logic leaps in the investigation, and the somewhat broadcasted 'twist' was far-fetched without a bit more supporting set-up, but overall this was really good. Well written, fast-moving, but with enough attention to the human side of things. I'd recommend this widely....more
'He was mourning the fact that there was nothing much to mourn at all, he decided.'
Smart humour and odd atmosphere are the big draws here and they del'He was mourning the fact that there was nothing much to mourn at all, he decided.'
Smart humour and odd atmosphere are the big draws here and they delighted me. As I progressed, though, and certainly as I finished, I couldn't really see the point of it all.
I'll admit my buddy-reader actively disliked this book and maybe some of his disdain actually landed on me. I like the fairy tale feel, and it really is very clever. It turns out that the story-line is just as absurd as its presentation, however, and I began tiring of it early on.
I can recognize solid writing, though, and could feel the fun that DeWitt was having. I take this as an example of his diversity in stylistic approaches, and can applaud it without ever wanting to read it again.
Also, a lot if us are using 'fairy tale' in our reviews. Don't read this with your kids, folks. Just...really. Don't....more
The notes I took while reading The Rage of Dragons remind me that there are elements of it that I appreciated. I'm glad for that, because this angry vThe notes I took while reading The Rage of Dragons remind me that there are elements of it that I appreciated. I'm glad for that, because this angry vengeance tale hasn't fared well in my memory.
Tau is essentially a self-made 'chosen one', whose sulky, surly selfishness has dire consequences early on. He proceeds, because of these consequences, to remain sulky, surly, and selfish...but also Angry! This continues to go poorly for him, and terrible things keep happening as a direct result of his asshat shenanigans, which makes him MORE sulky, surly, selfish, Angry!, and really good at killing things.
I certainly see that I'm in the minority with my opinions, and my notes tell me that I was engaged by the kick-ass prologue. It was an interesting choice, in this day and age, to have the theoretical good guys be a conquering, colonizing peoples. As the book progressed I was intrigued by the magic system and the structure of the society. There was certainly a fun excess of training and battle.
What sticks, unfortunately, in my recollection are the criticisms that surround those good things.
-I would gladly have traded ten percent or more of the action for some additional cultural practices, flavour, history, atmosphere and characterization.
-The female presence was dismal, and the one significant feminine character existed only as a plot progressor for Tau.
-The secondary characters – everyone not Tau – had a ton of potential, but they got shafted. I appreciated that Winters tried to show most of their development in action sequences, but that was quick and fast and had little impact.
-Tau. Tau is terrible. I started off appreciating the nuance of his personality – kind of resentful, rash and self-focused. I do understand that this plot was about him being consumed by the consequences of those flaws. That is a neat approach, but with zero positive character growth, and in fact a complete surrender to the negative traits, Tau becomes impossible to empathize with. It makes his sulky surly selfish Anger! annoying, and it makes everything he does feel entirely unintelligent.
I don't foresee myself continuing with this series, though I wish Winters much success. Clearly the general consensus is that this is a great book, and I hope other readers continue to have a better time with it than I did....more
I was absolutely intrigued and delighted by what this is, while being mildly disappointed by what it isn't.
Huge in scope and ideas in a way that feelsI was absolutely intrigued and delighted by what this is, while being mildly disappointed by what it isn't.
Huge in scope and ideas in a way that feels eerily presentient, at least at the outset, I can understand why this is seminal science fiction. It's just really fricking cool and novel in its presentation.
I think Foundation's strengths are also part of what I found a little disappointing, which is an interesting conundrum. We follow this gigantic idea over decades-long time jumps, as an empire collapses and a new foundation for humanity begins to emerge. It is quite smart, these stops at crisis-points in a civilization that spans solar systems. How it all ties into Seldon's 'psychohistory', or mathematically predictive sociology, is fascinating and clever.
But man, every time I'd get pulled into a segment and really start focusing down, we'd jump away again. There's no true sense of character or setting or atmosphere. And I understand that for this story there really doesn't need to be, because that's not the point. It still felt sometimes lacking. Too broad. (I also have the "early sci-fi authors suck at writing women" complaint, but. Broken record, and all that.)
No doubt, though. This is a remarkable work. Part of a foundation in its own right, (har har see what I did there? ok.) I'm happy to have added this to my reading experience....more
probably spoilers throughout, and also this turned out really long. Sorry
I appreciated a lot of the ideas at the core of this book, but I just di probably spoilers throughout, and also this turned out really long. Sorry
I appreciated a lot of the ideas at the core of this book, but I just didn't buy any of it in the execution.
TBC is a revenge tale, ultimately. A brilliant young girl witnesses the colonization and culturally destructive assimilation of her little island nation and vows for a life-long dismantling of the conquering empire via government infiltration. Cool. This sounds neat, yeah?
But, look...Baru is a cold cold fish. After a promising chapter or two of childhood we are distanced from her as a character almost entirely. What we do get is mostly by assurance of telling without much demonstration, so by the time we get to the actually-emotionally-engaging end crisis, it's just hard (for me) to buy into any of what she's been doing, or that it was such a devastating struggle for her.
I understand the theory behind the remove – because Baru is, like, sooooo smart. So so smart, guys. She's really intelligent. Everybody says so. Some people even call her Savant. They call her Savant a lot, in fact. They call her Savant even more than they catch scurvy, which is...crazy. So anyway, Baru is going to topple the regime with mind bullets while making them think she is their most devoted servant, which means that she has to plan and scheme and pretend, which is why, I presume, we are given a more clinical feel of the choices she makes and the reactions she has. This makes sense, both from a character point of view – because she has to be cold and unattached to do horrible things to achieve her goal – and also narratively. Writing from this remove allows Dickinson to stay mysterious about her actual strategies, which makes the shock-punch of the ending much more effective.
Buuuuutt...
Every domino fall of events we see is a result of one of Baru's brilliant choices going wrong. And yes, that makes sense for her long game, and this could have felt masterfully strategic. Except that, emotional remove or not, we are in her head! If we were hearing her sweepingly confident and overly simplifying “it's the only way,” or “trust me. I know. I created that policy,” statements from a different POV, then she might actually seem smart? But we hear her mentally assuring herself that she is right. This undermines her apparent intelligence and the plotting of her long game. I just couldn't buy into it.
I'm rambling, so I'll try breaking the rest into point form:
-I could buy Baru as instigator for the revolution. Maybe even as a symbol, to the people who don't know her. But not as a leader.
-The whole scenario felt purposefully dumbed down to cater to the 'warfare by accountancy' schtick. Systems are complicated.
-The environmental worldbuilding and descriptions are lacking. I couldn't buy into a sense of place with any investment.
-I couldn't care about any of the characters. They all had great outlines but no actual tone or heat to them. With such a big cast they all blended together.
-Also, they were all definitely dumb. Not Savants. I couldn't get behind how easily they were all led.
-The passage of time was jarring.
-Even considering all her Savantry, things fell into place too conveniently for her end goal.
-In describing a war camp, the term “voracious tents” was used. And I mean, I laughed.
Ultimately, I found myself moving between being disinterested and annoyed. It's a shame, because I really liked so many of the aims, especially the idea of academic warfare in place of sword swinging. The social world-building was really interesting, and I appreciate that I felt weight behind Dickinson's efforts. I acknowledge that I spent a lot of reading time in 2021 in a picky frame of mind, and I buddy-read this with someone who didn't like it at all, which may have a lot to do with my reactions. I'm against the general consensus here and so I'm happy for the book's success, but I'm just not buying, well...any more of this series....more
A crafty misfit who gets by on her wits and never quite feels that she belongs accidentally summons a djinn and soon realizes that she is oh so very sA crafty misfit who gets by on her wits and never quite feels that she belongs accidentally summons a djinn and soon realizes that she is oh so very special herself. Now, though, the secret is out, and to protect herself and lay claim to her family's legacy, she must travel - with her alluringly surly Daeva companion – to the City of Brass.
I ultimately didn't care much for this book, but there's some good to be noted. By far the greatest strength is the (for me) exotically lush atmosphere. The setting descriptions were intricate and evocative, lending a vivid sense of space throughout. I also credit the author for the exuberance of detail, both practically and plot-wise.
The base elements of the story are solid and intriguing, but it just didn't work out for me. I had big issues with the pacing, the flip-floppy politics, the confusing representation of religion, the romance, and the overall motivations of pretty much everyone. I'm a fan of dynamic characters but these ones seemed so conflicted that none of them even knew what they wanted with any consistency. And the melodrama, my gawwd. There are so many exclamations that someone “would never!” (even when we clearly knew they would) or “would not dare!” that it seems that all of Djinn-City Daevabad spends all day yelling randomly heated denials at each other at dramatic intervals.
I could break this down into details; as a buddy-read, my notes are extensive. A lot of people seem to like this, though – and heck, there were elements that I appreciated too. I don't really want to tear down what I think was an earnest effort or discourage anyone else from giving it a go. I like to imagine that the issues self-correct as the series progresses, but I doubt I'll ever find out....more
I really want to like these books...and so I do. As I'm tidying up this review from notes I made ages ago, I've already finished the third book in theI really want to like these books...and so I do. As I'm tidying up this review from notes I made ages ago, I've already finished the third book in the series and absolutely acknowledge that I could be reading these more critically. I'm finding as I read, though, that I am leaning into what I enjoy about them: they are fun, layered space adventures with a main cast that I enjoy to see bond and evolve. Right now, that's mostly enough for me.
I'm liking the expansion into a four-character POV, and mostly enjoying the new voices. Bobbie and Avasarala are kick-ass in very different ways (though I'll allow that the authors seem to commit too hard to a broadest stroke outline that winds up occasionally reductive). Prax has strengths that I love and quirks that I don't, and the latter got more page space than the former, unfortunately.
The first book in the series, Leviathan Wakes, was able to incorporate a number of genre nods into its structure, and I felt the lack of that in this second installment. Still, the alien protomolecule and what's happening on Venus contributes a fascinating menace while the politicking is amped up, kicking the whole space opera schtick into high gear.
If I had to pinpoint one complaint that almost pushed me into the sort of criticality that would genuinely eat at my enjoyment, it would be some anger at the way Naomi's character is presented in this book. She has all the potential for a strong individual, but for nearly three quarters of the book she seems only to exist for Holden's sake. And he is so bloody whiny about their romance.
Beyond that, and acknowledging that the tv series is better than the books, I'm going to dig in and say that I just like these books...and I'm happy enough to be to be liking much of anything right now. So I'm alright not thinking too deeply beyond that....more
While I happily delve into historical fiction on an occasionally regular basis and also enjoy some rousing Remarkably engaging, and remarkably bloody!
While I happily delve into historical fiction on an occasionally regular basis and also enjoy some rousing battles in the more speculative genres, I've never found historical military fiction to be particularly entertaining. This buddy-read turned out to be an outlier. I found Gates of Fire to be nuanced and thoughtfully appealing.
This is the battle of Thermopyle (think 300) recounted by Xeones – a servant of the Spartan army – to the invading Persian emperor Xerxes. Xeones is the only survivor found among the many Greek corpses after the notorious battle, and he is saved from death so that the Persians can get a better idea of the spirit behind the incredible valor and skill of the incredibly efficient Spartans. Xeones' perspective is an interesting one: after being driven from his own home and losing most of his family in a more localized territorial battle, the young boy Xeones ultimately chooses to place himself into servitude in Sparta for the opportunity to learn to fight and model himself after the renowned warriors of that land. His narrative spans many years prior to the big battle at the titular gates, and gives great context about the politics and fighting that precede it. Approaching the story from this angle is great for a reader like me, who is about as far away from a military mindset as a person can be. It also gives observational insight into Spartan ideologies that form the foundation of the unity of their brotherhood.
And ultimately that is what this book is about, though the battle at the Gates of Fire is given gruesome spotlight for the final third-ish of the story. It is about patriotic urges, the philosophies of heroics and fear, and the incredible bond that ties the defending army together. This is powerfully conveyed in Pressfield's writing. It is little wonder that this novel is cited as a favourite of many a Serviceman.
Overall, a moving book to read, though the field of battle is horrific and gory and sad. There are a few slow moments in the middle which still add to the characterizations that are vital for this story to be as affecting as it is.
Having stepped away from the immediate experience, I can feel myself start poking at it with my own ideals and questions and curiosities, but the writing is good, and the tale is both gripping and anthemic enough that I didn't stop to be my own objectionable and critical self while I was reading. I think that is a pretty strong achievement by the author.
If I allow myself to pick away at it in the back of my mind then an eventual reread might fare differently, but I really appreciated Gates of Fire and would absolutely recommend it to any fan of Historical War Fiction....more
Michelle F
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