Little Women is a puzzling and interesting book to read and to think about afterwards. This book was very good. Paradoxically, I rated it more on thisLittle Women is a puzzling and interesting book to read and to think about afterwards. This book was very good. Paradoxically, I rated it more on this reread upon noticing flaws that my adoring eyes had not upon the first read. The book has power. It has the power to enchant us. E.g. I began and completed reading it during the month of March. That cannot be a coincidence. There is an untarnished sweetness in the book that is not nauseating for most. For those who dislike the book, I cannot disagree with them. But this book is very special.
The first volume is above reproach, to me. It is so lifelike, it takes your breath away. The book format works much better with this material than any adaptations onscreen, including the latest one (2019). There is a certain voyeurism in the first book which is the only sinful thing about it. The March family has been captured perfectly and regurgitated with pen on paper. You feel the chirpy voices in your ears. You see the knotted fingers and the weary shoulders of the girls, who are poor and happy. Marmee, the mother, is like a bookend, with the other piece of the bookend, Mr March, a distant trifle that does not and should not intrude in his own home when he returns from war.
The March little women are a collective force of eruption of colour, whether in their decent language or their untidiness. They toil under the yoke of boredom so much that you feel you are cheating them by having modern amenities that they will never have. Yet they are lucky enough. They have each other. They have their youth, which they retain up till the last page of volume two. Jo, the ringleader and amateur poet, playwright, and writer of the family, goes down on one knee under the force of time, at the early age of 30 years, yet it feels as titanic an act as Thor's feat. Jo is my favourite character in the book.
There is a failing in health from Beth, the penultimate child. And one feels sadness for her and solace for oneself. Who is to say how long a lifetime should be. Beth is the kindest of the four girls. She takes care of her dolls with happiness and patience. One of her dolls is disabled, which perhaps foreshadows her own fate in a grim and sanguine way. Meg, the eldest, and Amy, the youngest, have upbeat and delightful fates, and perhaps these are what prevents them from making their mark in the book. Meg is the most mature and the silliest, being precocious without the gift of experience. Amy, well, she shines most in volume two.
The unlikely neighbours in the form of the two Lawrences, rich, honest duo of grandfather and grandson, are plot movers in name and in game. Laurie, like a certain Mr Darcy, has always been played by actors far older than what the books tell you. Laurie is very young, and, in the hands of Louisa May Alcott, becomes the type of character that shows all that women write men better than the opposite. Laurie lives his late teens in a state of paradisiac bliss. Having made best friends with Jo, he is flushed with the naivety of youth, which is also his innocence.
The book cannot escape the merriment infused in its characters by the authoress. The fixation on education and culture is unmistakably feminine. This could have been a blemish, but here is not. In their conversations the March girls display a longing for the future, which they will not reach till after the first part. It is hinted that they know French, and that they are steeped in the type of customs that seem stuffy to most people now. The book is clever in its depiction of the various short and pertinent adventures of the girls. If only things could remain the same forever. It was not to be.
Alcott should have been more in tune with her own creation when writing further adventures of her fictional family. She commits the mistake of believing that her work is an example of morality selling fast. In fact, it sold despite the moralising, not because of it. There is a strange power play that occurs in the book. The author saddles her women with back breaking moral rigmaroles. And we see that the life of the characters begin to feel independent of the author's meddling. The latter cannot comprehend the minds of her creatures. They rebel in a way, then accept with fake joy their fates that Alcott prefers for them.
The constant pontification made me laugh rather than groan. This was quite true of Professor Bhaer's defence of Christianity in the face of a couple of heathen zealots. Never mind that Bhaer has a zealotry of his own to keep his dull mind busy. It is proper for a book of this type to be rooted in a sort of vulgar realism by marrying its lively girls to older and crusty, pompous nonentities. But in trying to stay true, Alcott forgoes verisimilitude. It is the classic case of overcompensation. None of the male characters do things that come even close to the female ones' acts. This is okay, except that, seeing her little women maturing, the authoress abandons herself to a matchmaking mood.
Alcott tries to be daring in her own small ways. She longs for her characters to be colourful and carefree, yet she herself probably bought into the patriarchy 'wisdom'. This is displayed in the unflattering presentation of two women discussing female emancipation. It is displayed in the stated dependence of the woman on the father-like husband. The sheep with its shepherd if you will. Alcott is also daring in one glaring way. She creates a quadroon child for the purpose of fleshing out the future of Jo March. That was as far as she could reasonably have gone.
Little Women is not the most popular of classics. It is also not the most revealing. Not the most clever, neither the funniest. But her characters not only are more than the sum of themselves. The characters are autonomous, and cannot be controlled. They will speak to the reader in their own voices and authorship be damned. The writer had captured something in this book that not only she could never replicate in sequels, but also that no author I have read could or would replicate. This is why I will pick up this book next year, probably during March, if I'm not being careful....more
I feel like I committed treason by giving My Story, by Steven Gerrard, 5 stars. But I have to admit that this book was much better than many of the auI feel like I committed treason by giving My Story, by Steven Gerrard, 5 stars. But I have to admit that this book was much better than many of the autobiographies that I had the pleasure of reading. Gerrard was a name that I had been associating with anathema for over a decade. To summarize my agony with his career, I'd say that Gerrard played for Liverpool Football Club, and I support Manchester United. These 2 clubs are rivals in English and European football - or soccer if you want to be pedantic.
Gerrard might not have actually sat before a keyboard or with a pen in writing this book. The de facto route to writing a sports autobiography is to record one's voice before a collaborator, who is also going to be dubbed the co-writer. After which comes a tedious editing process. I suppose that Gerrard must have used an associate. But the fact remains that there are no co-authors on the cover of this book. Still, even actual writers have support from a team of professionals. This means that Gerrard is not a superlatively silver tongued author along with having been a very good footballer. I could breathe again...
Gerrard's book is full of his love for his club, which was also his boyhood club that he followed. Towards the wrapping up of his career, when he is leaving Liverpool for an American soccer club, his vulnerability really shines through. We think footballers in terms of athletes, which they are. But for many footballers, including Steven Gerrard, there is much wear and tear. The body goes through swift movements in games that it never ought to have gone through. Men's feet were made to stand upright and walk and run long distances, not to twist, jump, change direction in the middle of a sprint, have a defender clip one's boot with studs showing etc etc.
The world class midfielder or defender will always carry hurts and tiny scars to their grave. However fit these players might be, they remind us that beneath their six packs and their deltoids, they are only human beings who will one day grow old having retired from football at the age of 35 years. Gerrard narrates in his book that once, a few days before a match, he had to have an abscess removed from his mouth. So footballers like him have that Spartan life during their careers.
I don't know if I believe every word in this book, but I feel Gerrard is not as scummy as some other players... or managers. Gerrard, the former Liverpool captain, comes across as a humble, quiet, and grounded person. He has the occasional drinking marathon. Like many Englishmen, Gerrard considers getting drunk with your 'mates' as an example of having fun. I personally don't see any fun in that. So, the odd episode aside, he seems honest, even. That was the difference between this book and countless other sports biographies. One other reason for Gerrard not to feel like the king of the world was that there were players better, more good looking, with more trophies and more pedigree than him! One such person was Paolo Maldini; football royalty, and the best player not to win the World Cup. So when Gerrard insinuates that he felt grateful to his fans, I reluctantly believe him.
Steven Gerrard ended his book at the point where he was going to play and settle in the US. At that point he would not know that he would become a semi successful manager. As the latter he would have, if he were managing in the English first league, to pit his wits against his former club Liverpool. He has in effect done that. Gerrard never won the Premiership. He was never crowned English champions. Reading his book, I feel that the difference between my club and his was that his had defenders and keepers that were error prone. Mislaid passes, own goals, misuse of the offside trap... they took their toll against Gerrard's and his team's efforts in winning each and every match. I liked this book for its insight, and its honesty. Gerrard might be slightly boring, but that is a pleasant quality for a football superstar. He is boring and also has enough nous to write a 5 star book. Well done indeed....more
'Range' is a crowd pleaser, first of all. I have always wondered what my life would be if I had lived up to my early academic promise. I would be a be'Range' is a crowd pleaser, first of all. I have always wondered what my life would be if I had lived up to my early academic promise. I would be a believer in God. I would be married, have kids. Go abroad for holidays probably. Most of these things are not reflective of me nowadays. I am living a life that seems to fit the mantra of Range's assumption, but is that a truth, or is the fact that I am trying to learn a few skills, merely being a Jack of few trades?
This is a wonderful nonfiction book. I am almost 100 % convinced of its claims. It makes sense. At one point, one of the scientists, Arturo Casadevall, gives us a hypothetical scenario where a weirdly self folding protein molecule in a cucumber might be of value. This reminded me of Michael Crichton's The Lost World. The Lost World for me is better than Jurassic Park. I love the science disseminated in it. Crichton himself is mentioned as a subject in Range. He tried to study medicine in his youth. The knowledge gathered there helped him become a writer and a showrunner in ER, a TV show.
Range tries to show us that specializing in a domain leads to lack of success generally. Budding musicians fare far better when they are learning more than two instruments. This is shown in the example of Maria Del Pieta and her 'group', way back in the tail end of the Renaissance. Being specialized means being deep, while being a generalist means being broad in the field one is affiliated with. This latter concept is explained a few times in the book, and the subject stayed fresh for me because the topic is one I have been wondering all my life. I surmise that this is the case with other readers.
The Beatles were generalists. They did not specialise in one genre. They grew up with rock and roll music. They were inspired by myriad gifted black musicians. They combined their idols' styles to create a poppy sounding music that they galvanised in their own songwriting talent. Still in music, when one of the members of Radiohead was interviewed about why there are not enough innovative and creative guitarists in the US, he replied that there, guitar magazines sell really well. This means that learners try to get technical too early and too fast. Parents who want their children to succeed in sports want their offsprings to do what the Olympians are doing right now, instead of what the latter have done when they themselves were kids.
There is a former reviewer called J.G. Keely on Goodreads who held the most unpopular opinions. He is the most intellectual person I have engaged in conversation with. So, e.g. he gave 1 star to Game of Thrones. He gave 3 stars to LoTR and thrashed talked Harry Potter. It is clear to everyone that by most metrics, Game of Thrones is not a 1 star book. Yet Keely was able to defend himself - successfully - against the fans of that book. He could do so because he had so many weapons to choose from, so many types of rhetoric, and he displayed such a superior reasoning capacity that none of his detractors could 'unsaddle' him, so to speak. Keely was able to defend his stance because he was a specialist. He wielded language like a whip. If one has so much knowledge of a particular area, one will often be able to fit any opinion in that area of expertise.
This happened to people who were asked to predict the future. Predicting, say, next week's stock exchange's numbers is almost as hard as guessing about the future in national events that would form history. Not only that, but the specialists who got their predictions wrong doubled downed on their input and insisted that they will be right next week. They never even get close. Parents who want super achiever kids too reacted strongly to Range's tenet. Informed that generalists do better than specialists, these adults meet this info with disbelief. They had been taught that to keep on trying, relentlessly, in one field, is a sign of progress.
Range is a great book. But my puny achievements in art and life are far removed from the types of musicians who are readily mentioned here. This book can help me learn languages. I only need to mix it up a bit and multitask. Whenever an innovative idea is met with resistance in a few disciplines, we see cracks appearing in our worldview. This aspect is not covered by the book. It is my opinion. Take the example of NASA's failure with the Challenger launch disaster. When the entire body of scientists got upended, cracks started to appear and we finally get to know that even the pursuit of discovery and scientific knowledge is an ideology.
To summarise, Range is a book whose contents I have never stopped wondering about. Range shows us that the best CEO of the last 3 decades was a woman who had no training in management. She worked till at least when she was 101 years old. I like her most of all. It has been a pleasure and a privilege reading this book. It is what I thought Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers and what Degrasse Tyson's book, Starry Messenger would be like. My first book of the year, and it is a 5 star one....more
I decided to write a spoiler free review. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is a book that is cleverer than its creator. Agatha Christie must have toiled daI decided to write a spoiler free review. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is a book that is cleverer than its creator. Agatha Christie must have toiled day and night to come up with the plot. It must have been the result of hard work. Else how do you explain the sheer audacity of the premise? I have read some quotes by the Dame herself and she comes across as sharp and unfoolable. That's just the reason why she outdid herself and wrote this book in her prime. She wrote a story she had no business creating.
Poirot's detective work is sometimes shoddy and melodramatic and unrealistic in lesser books. Though, even in those latter books Christie could insert a great idea. In Roger Ackroyd, the Poirot we love comes across as the Poirot we want to admire, the hero we ought to respect. Nothing in the entirety of the book is of shoddy craftsmanship. There are two detectives that are given to interact with Hercule Poirot somewhat during the case. Inspector Davis was a cameo. Inspector Raglan, he is the one who missed all the clues and noticed all the false indices.
We must forgive Christie for cramming all the eggs in one basket, and in producing, with a flourish, all the various cogent acts of survival during that one night when Roger Ackroyd dies. This is a liberty that Christie has to take. There are so many coincidences in the book. Not bad ones, mind. But with all the instances of the convergence of different people's will, one has to forgive the author because this flaw enhances the book manifold.
Hercule Poirot's acts in it are awe inspiring. He came to King's Abbot to enjoy his retirement. Instead he finds himself neighbour and guest to James Sheppard, and his equally spinster elder sister, Caroline. I enjoyed Caroline's character immensely. When the siblings along with a faux army officer, and a Miss Gannett play Mahjong, the setting and playfulness of the flowing dialogue are of the finest realism. This instance must be an example where Christie observed the way people interacted in her days. As a result, this chapter where the game takes place is perhaps the finest illustration of colourfulness in the book.
While some characters feel alive, others are mere pawns in the complex game that Christie sets for us readers. Personally, I think that what betrays Christie's hand here is the fact that some people do not care if this person is married or that person (view spoiler)[had a child out of wedlock (hide spoiler)]. This is the most dated of Christie's writing, apart of course, from her world famous antisemitism.
But this is closest to perfection one can get, and get away with, as a woman writing in the 1930s, a woman of limited education, and an Englishwoman. Once again, the thought comes to me how often does England produce phenomenal writers each 40 or 50 years. Let's hope that this theory stays true and we are regaled once more in the near future.
I never took to And Then There Were None. For me, the definitive Christie books are the Marple ones, closely followed by Poirot's . Marple ought to have got more love from Christie. But Poirot was the star pupil of the writer and the latter had to bow to the public stampede for more Poirot and less Marple. I remember too, the first time I read Murder on the Orient Express. The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is the book I have read only twice ever. I will let it simmer for a decade or so before taking up the book once more.
A word about Mrs Ferrars. I loved her to bits. I have absolutely no sympathy for her drunkard husband. This is echoed in the same way that the murderer has no sympathy for Mrs Ferrars. The latter is a victim of one of the lowest forms of crime. Mrs Ferrars, as far as I recollect, has no first name. Her deceased husband's first name is 'Ashley'. It is as if Mr Ferrars has usurped his wife's identity as well as her happiness. I know that crimes similar in cruelty to those in the book, exist in real life. If only we had an Hercule Poirot. If only we had an Agatha Christie still now....more
Foundryside is a damn good book. Though I give books a perfect 5 stars, every book is flawed in one way or another. I was debating whether to give theFoundryside is a damn good book. Though I give books a perfect 5 stars, every book is flawed in one way or another. I was debating whether to give the book 4 or 5 stars. I settled on 4. But at the last moment, I give it an unconditional 5 stars. It would be ridiculous to give it a lower rating than some of the embarrassing books that have got 5 stars from me. Basically, if a book fulfills its potential of wowing me, or presenting me with a story to whose narration I nod pleasantly and docilely to, and against which I can find no harsh words to utter, I give that book 5 stars.
Bennett, the author, seems to have read a lot of books set in the 90s. I can distinctly recognise the makings of a storyteller from that decade. Only he is much cleverer than the soulless copycats that plague and choke this genre broadly called Fantasy. Bennett is not made of inferior stuff, and he proved his mettle, his worth, what he was made of, time and time again in this book. I know almost nothing about the author... his age, race, experience, his career... I know nothing about him. I only know that despite the flaws of his book, I got curious enough to consider reading the second book in this trilogy, knowing only with the certainty that comes with bitter experience, that the sequels will not be equal.
The heroine of this novel is Sancia Grado. She is not described beyond her thinness and litheness. Somehow I got the impression that she was black. But her appearance is quite in question, if you consider such trivialities. I mean, these things are worth considering. The Hermione character from Harry Potter could become attractive by simply applying a potion to her hair and having her teeth reduced. Sancia is a main character whose appearance is not important. Just like one knows that the detective character John Rebus is handsome simply because he attracts females, so one might suppose so with Sancia, because she too has a female love interest.
So we have a male author in the Fantasy genre who provides us with a trio of dominant characters, where the male persona is the third wheel. That took guts. That must have irked a few of the males reading this book. But the male character is romantically neutral. He is important to the plot, but mainly to hide facts and to provide misdirection. Any bearing on the main plot is not of his dominion.
This book does a lot of good things, but from the melodramatic fashion it ended made me get the idea that the author wanted us to be attached to certain people in the book. Bennett did not do enough to make that happen in my case. I did not care for anybody in the book. That is the biggest flaw here. No matter. The book is simply aching fun to read. It begins with what the late author Douglas Adams would describe as a big bang. There is almost no pause in the book's pacing. Pacing in Fantasy is usually tempered with excuses of world building. That latter cardinal sin is indulged in by every Fantasy writer I have read; they use world building as an excuse to delay the gratification of the plot's revelation.
There is a joyful conundrum that obfuscates the plot of this book. So many people around, some of whom can fly, while others can defy reality itself. I enjoyed being mystified by the naturally progressing affairs of the book. What we seem to deem as pithy and yawn inducing clichés are in fact cleverly concealing plot points. The ultimate reason, the motivation for going through this adventure for Sancia is broken up into tiny McGuffins and spread all over the book's narrative structure. So one can forgive the reader to think that there are no plot coupons in this. There are, but they are concealed.
The author has my admiration and I am in good and numerous company where this brilliant book is concerned. In the hands of a subtle and talented writer like Bennett, the story reaches 500 pages, and that is how things would be in an ideal world. A denser writer like what Jordan was would have added a further 200 or 300 pages of public caning or sexualised stabbing. But here, the cursing seems natural, yet the author exercised discretion. This book has stuff that could have gone wrong, which is why I suspect it was written in years rather than months.
To summarise, this is a Fantasy book, set in a world that is magical, a steampunk novel. A novel that is not boringly set in a pseudo medieval world. The judgment of Bennett is spot on. The magical system is inherently exposed yet reveals its secrets continuously. That alone would have made this book interesting. But the conception of a heist book makes the reading experience very special. Despite the lack of characterisation worth the name, despite the lack of audible gasps from this reader, I have no trouble in cataloguing this book as among the 100 best ones I have ever read in my life....more
**spoiler alert** One of the first things I did when I read Ice Bound was to check on Nielsen's wiki page. I thought she would not have one. But she h**spoiler alert** One of the first things I did when I read Ice Bound was to check on Nielsen's wiki page. I thought she would not have one. But she had a wiki entry. And though I was temporarily monumentally gutted about Nielsen dying as far back as in 2009, I was glad because she beat her cancer the first time around, and was ready for the cruel and fated rematch where the cancer took her on her terms. She and death went from this mortal world hand in hand.
I took my time reading Jerri Nielsen's memoir. It is a superb book. It is a direct, touching, and humane story of a self imposed exile to the South Pole for a woman who was a tough customer and who was adventurous to her bones. Antarctica is the remotest, coldest, and loneliest place on earth. The continent thought, " well, I can't count on malaria and dengue to discourage visitors, let's mess with their minds directly through cold". Cold like the South Pole is beyond cold such as what is found in your freezer. Cold in the South Pole is probably - and I am relying on my imagination here - like fire and knives combined.
I was sad that Nielsen did not survive, but I thought that I would rather die at the age of 57, the age when the cancer in the doctor metastasised to her brain, rather than die at the age of 85, with all my kin (or almost) dead before me. How sweet would it be, to have my parents and brother surrounding my deathbed, while I drifted to a morphine induced unconsciousness, safe in the knowledge that my sight had transferred the most comforting and perfect image from my life to my dying brain.
After I had started reading the book, I found that I was getting affected by it. I felt numb as if I was getting cold. I felt solitude like I was in a slum or a cell or a maze. I decided to read the book only when there was someone in my room. This way the book lasted longer and I was pitched into the thoughts of Doctor Jerri Nielsen and Big John, and Roo, and Lisa the woman who for April Fool raided the store of their base at Antarctica with a fellow female (excuse the contradiction).
There was no bugs or animals of any kind in the bottom of the world. The elements and the Circadian rhythm of the inhabitants there though, got messed up. Though there was law active on the continent, there were only the customs that the Polies (as they called themselves) made up on the spot. There was the regression of Jerri and Big to a more primitive state. They became closer to their neighbours. They became feral, and they didn't mind not speaking for hours. The group of well drilled and physically and mentally tough people, all of them carrying experience and skills such as medicine (for Jerri only, the sole doctor in that group) engineering, science, and astronomy among many other skills such as polymathy, multilingualism, and artistry, turned into a stone age tribe.
The group of Polies had to contend with loneliness, yet Jerri had been looking forward to the temp workers leaving the place so as to winter during the ultimate of all winters. For the companion of Jerri was to be the Dark, and the Cold, where the Sun would not appear for months. No wonder the group became like cave dwellers. No wonder Jerri felt reluctant to return to civilisation as we know it. For Nielsen has tasted the loneliness and the silence of a bare world. She could not get enough of it yet.
So you see, the taught and received ideas of comfort, safety, and communication that seemed so natural in the here and the now, vanished there. Nielsen had realised the blinding thought that by domesticating animals and cultivating grain, humanity had domesticated itself. By refraining from nomad status, humanity has farmed out intellectuals and labourers alike. Humanity had made a social ladder to climb. And Nielsen was not eager to return to the rat race, to the corporate ladder and all that it meant. Who can blame her?
So Jerri Nielsen, after a clean bill of health from her clinic, got waylaid by breast cancer in a place and at a time cut off from the rest of the human population. She had not the personnel nor even the tools to cure her. She had to be evacuated. She performed a biopsy on herself and underwent chemotherapy while the US was corralling a couple of high tech planes to reach and rescue her. The book, apart from the experience that it sprang upon you, was an account of adventure and hope. Jerri survived for enough time to make her life a success. I have so much more to say on this book, but it will have to suffice that the memoir changed me. Death has fear over me but no longer holds thrall over me. That has changed for the better....more
The Dresden Files have always been unbeatable among the Urban Fantasy books of their contemporaries. Fool Moon was a book I read in 2014. I gave it 4 The Dresden Files have always been unbeatable among the Urban Fantasy books of their contemporaries. Fool Moon was a book I read in 2014. I gave it 4 stars back then. Now I am giving it 5 stars. What has changed? I got to appraise the book in its structure, and found it very solid. The second half seems to be full of action. But these set pieces are dotted with lulls that are crucial to the pacing of the book.
I really think that Fool Moon is a book that has made us fans respect it by the force of its imagination. Take the example of how much awareness Jim Butcher puts in his books. He constantly compares his story to 'real' life. But then, after that, Butcher goes back to his story and promptly writes stuff that is true only in fiction. An example of this type of subversion is the way dialogue is written in the book. The sentences are short. Verily so. And everyone at the beginning of the book speaks economically. This is just the author choosing a conscious decision. There is nothing wrong with it.
I was fascinated by how open the evildoers were, and how easy it is to solve the mystery of the murders by choosing your culprits early and sticking with them through thick and thin. Butcher openly reveals the conundrum. Such simplicity is wonderfully implemented. It teaches us about daring in writing books. Jim Butcher was such a phenomenal writer back then. I am grateful to have read his books at a time when he was so beast. Now his powers are waning like the proverbial moon with no cyclic turnaround of course.
I am a bit sore about the fact that books like Fool Moon are so unknown to the general public. And it need not have been so. The abortive and low budget TV adaptations of Dresden came at the wrong time, when TV was a backwater swamp and was still figuring out how to outpace cinema. Jim Butcher was a writer who seems to have more sense of humour than men (and women) who write Fantasy, and women (and men) who write romantic Fantasy, YA Fantasy and stuff like that.
Fool Moon, apart from its misdirection and humor, is also stellar because of the way tension is ramped up. Not only that, but the usual haunting past of the main character is better than the usual examples. Plus whenever Harry does magic we are eager to know what he can do. The world of Dresden here is yet to cast powerful actors like the Fae and other vituperative beings. The universe of Dresden in this book seems to be both hot and cold, humid, full of unpredictability, and with a large, bare arena primed to allow Butcher to weave his only too real magic.
This reread reminded me of the fact that Butcher is better a writer than the old guards such as Stephen King, Terry Brooks, Bernard Cornwell et cetera. Butcher is also a better writer than Brandon Sanderson - who I am beginning to think is overrated - and Robin Hobb, and the likes of N.K. Jemisin, and Patrick Rothfuss. To think that success and renown has graced lesser writers than Butcher is not quite the tragedy that it hints at, though. Butcher will neither win a Hugo or Edgar, nor will he make news on the internet. But us fans know the worth of Dresden. It is just a fact of life that this series has never penetrated popular culture.
To conclude, one crucial aspect of the series that Butcher has nailed, is its hero. J.K. Rowling wrote a serviceable hero in Harry Potter (the character). Potter is too artificial. He is too pristine. Dresden is believable in a way rarely seen in Fantasy characters. Whenever Harry Dresden talks to people other than his well wishers, we hold our collective breaths in anticipation. This is easily illustrated in the extract where Chauncy the demon is conversing with Harry and giving information for a price. Harry here has chauvinistic edges, self absorbedness, and a patchouli of doubts. Unlike many heroes from the authors mentioned in the previous paragraph, Harry can, and does, piece together the puzzle and reaches the right conclusion more often than not. This makes for interesting dynamics in the series, because Harry keeps getting pitted against supernatural beings. Him thinking on his feet, using his mortal brain to do battle with immortal and godlike beings, gives us a message about the powers of the human brain. You cannot ask more of a hero....more
Guido Brunetti is a police officer in Venice. His title is that of Dottor. He is a high ranking officer. Hi there, my name is Troy McClure. You may reGuido Brunetti is a police officer in Venice. His title is that of Dottor. He is a high ranking officer. Hi there, my name is Troy McClure. You may remember me from movies such as This Book is Wonderful, and Donna Leon is Completely Fine.
The latest thing I realised before starting this review is that there is a massive clue of the murder in the title of the book itself. That took a lot of nerve. I have never seen a mystery book do that before. There is little stuff like that in the book. Donna Leon trusts her readers. Or perhaps she has no time for the more obtuse among us. Donna Leon seems to know a lot about the higher echelons of Venetian society. Her writing for parties or group activities is beyond reproach.
There was, however, a strange monologue in the party given by one socialite. The conversation between the guests was like from a 19th century novel. That is not because there is a relapse into archaic language, but because of its long tirades and unfunny jokes. Donna Leon cannot write a good joke. I liked Brunetti's in-laws more than his kids. I mean, the kids are less sympathetic to me than the elders.
Italy is the land where men and women are prized for their beauty. There is a scent of scandal and a deepening of tragedy as Brunetti takes on the case of the murdered conductor, Wellhauer. The victim is German. The author comes very close to revealing how handsome Wellhauer was. But she did not at all reveal why such an eligible woman like Paola got tied to Guido Brunetti. There are authors who will never directly reveal how good looking their characters are. That means that less facts are told, and also less facts are shown.
Venice is a very old city, heavy with history, and proud of it. Among all the details of the streets, walls and huge windows, there was one thing that new nations do not have. The wearing down of the stone steps that have been there for centuries. The steps are worn down because so many people have walked this way. This was a powerful image.
The book is sordid in its resolution, but though things go macabre very swiftly in the denouement, the graphic details of the misdeeds are veiled prudishly. Leon knows when to pull back, and when to pull no punches. So there are a lot of elements to underpin when writing a novel of this type and the writer got most of it right. The character of Guido's son, however, did not work for me. He seemed even more despicable than the wrongdoer. This type of treatment would be endearing in a child, not a young man.
As I said before, the author left a few things to the reader. She did not spell out everything. What she did mention more than a couple of times was Guido's totally carefree disposition to accept drinks from everyone. Mostly strangers. This was cultural, but then Italy is both the country of knifing and poisoning, so I was left wondering what was happening with those pegs. The chief of Guido was nicely made up. In more ways than one too. He is a narcissistic, impatient, stupid, selfish, and lazy officer who got his job because he knew the right people. I find it interesting that among all these characters, Leon made this minor one the best looking one in the book. The character, called Patta, is very vivid to me. I pictured a middle aged Brandon Quinn as him.
To wrap things up, I must say I look forward to the rest of the series. That is mostly because the book felt like there was more to tell. That is intriguing. The book showed us all that there are many more people in Venice who might fancy a stab in the dark, though I admit that what I did is just that. I will be on cloud nine if there are fewer and less voluble red herrings in book 2. Once of this treatment is enough. Let's see if Leon knows about that aspect of her writing....more
The Lost World was a book that I read at the end of the 90s. It was a phenomenal read, by my standards back then, when I was a student and in my latesThe Lost World was a book that I read at the end of the 90s. It was a phenomenal read, by my standards back then, when I was a student and in my latest teens. It made me feel smart. It made me feel good. When I read it, Michael Crichton, the author, was still alive. Now, there have been two things that I realise. First, it is a real pity that Crichton died. It was cruel that he was taken off the face of the Earth so quickly. Second, this book and Jurassic Park are for me, by far the best books that Crichton has written.
My mind was blown when I took up this reread in this year 2022. The book held up incredibly well. There were a few details that sadly were past sell by date. One of them was that it was stated the human race arose about 35,000 years ago, when now science tells us that it was so 250,000 years ago. Crichton also sadly got the innovation of the Internet as a doom mongering warning. This was I suspect not a really personal crusade to the author. He was perhaps merely playing us along.
The internet is one of the best inventive revolutions to have happened to the human race. Unlike other breakthroughs, like writing, or fire, its good use far outstrips any bad use. IQ levels are skyrocketing around the world. Atheists movements, climate change movements, feminist movements and others are making the rounds round our planet at the speed of light. This is not the atomic age, as 50s scientists have tried to label us. This is the digital age.
The book was both light and strong, just like the vehicles and equipment that in the book, Doc Thorne had to custom make for the rich bratty Levine. The book deserves a lot of success. The only reason why it was not such an influence on Sci Fi writers is that it is inimitable, and, unlike Fantasy successes, couldn't be replicated and imitated by lesser or even writers of equal talent as Crichton.
The science monologues that are mostly the dominion of Ian Malcolm in the book are brilliant! The thoughts behind these hugely entertaining talks seem Socratic in nature. And they are intaglioed on the book in a way that is perfectly believable. This Sci Fi discourse is not info dump. This is a way of entertaining the masses, and perhaps even, opening them to the possibilities of science.
I was less pleased with the way both the baddies and the good guys got messed up by the dinosaurs. It was as if each of the future dead carried a death wish. It was very unbelievable how Dodgson, Baselton (his death was funny as hell though), and the poor Howard King hopped, skipped, and jumped their way into the jaws of death. The jaws of creatures coming back from extinction. The lord of the planet falling into the maws of his predecessor.
The two kids too had to be included, yet no responsible adult would have agreed to bring them along, so they must help themselves. Arby and Kelly were terrific characters with motives, creativity, and moments of pathos and heroism of their own. Sarah Harding, the African plateaus connoisseur, was also a problem. Nobody knows why her career was viable or interesting or worth funding. She kept observing hyenas and lions hunt and her raw data was not bringing anything new. But those are mere trifles.
I have my reserves about the book, one of which is self inflicted. I skipped some pages to reach the end. When I first read the book, decades ago, I didn't understand the ending. I didn't understand why the dinosaurs were in such queer patterns on Isla Sorna. I didn't understand about the prions and what they spelled out. This mystery stayed with me, though I had forgotten about it. But once the book was in my hands yet again, I immediately remembered this gap in my knowledge and hurried to find out and was rewarded by the answer the book provided. It is strange how old eyes sometimes see better than juvenile ones.
This book was not perfect. Its current rating is the dubious result of the revival of the Jurassic franchise. The big studios will never let a series die, even if there is no new Crichton on the horizon to lead the way. I loved Lost World. Its science is in itself a Lost World of ideas, because when the sequel to Jurassic Park was scripted, the producers went for action oriented stuff. Good. Only the people who read the book, instead of watching the movie, know how precious this book was. It was a book that was not only scientific, but also philosophical. But they have little to do with practical life sadly. I mean imagine a world where the dinosaurs never got extinct. We would never be there to inherit the Earth from these mighty monsters. So be it; we are here, until the next change in chaos....more
Five full, unalterable, and perfect stars to Singing to the Dead, a mystery that is tricky to sub-categorise. I went in not expecting anything, and I Five full, unalterable, and perfect stars to Singing to the Dead, a mystery that is tricky to sub-categorise. I went in not expecting anything, and I am going in this review without preparing anything clever or piquing to say.
This book should be read by mystery lovers around the world. But it will not be read by many. It will be a quiet group of fans that will swear by the author, Caro Ramsay. With books like this I am glad I did not pick a different hobby other than reading.
Reading a book like this will give you enjoyment for hours without respite. Imagining gardening without rest for hours with no abatement in strength. Or skateboarding with no accidents, for 4 or 5 hours. Reading this book made me ultra happy for these 4 hours.
When I see people lining up to pick their books that are dictated by flavours of the month, or by a BookTuber guru, I say screw the hype. I have my own perfectly suitable handpicked books that are rarely in NYT lists, or hosted by the Oprah Club or some other lower key mod.
So yeah, I enjoyed this book like I devoured a tub of ice cream, without the ailment of excess calories. And I loved the book without stop. If Caro Ramsay writes a similar book in her Anderson and Costello series, I will be amazed and happy.
This book has skyrocketed into my top 20 best books list. Either Plum Island will disappear, the book by Nelson Demille, or The Greek Coffin Mystery, by Ellery Queen. Singing to the Dead is better than these two. Plum Island had one thing that Singing does not. Humour. But Singing is relentless in its quality.
All I am saying is, there are many ways of choosing your books. Why pick the ones that do the entire work for you? Reading is supposed to be a solitary activity. Since what precise point in history has it reared, butchered and offered individuality to the altar of society. At one point, people have decided that discussing about reading is a lucrative business, and a healthy activity. It is not. Not when you come across books like this one.
People say, choose this way of selecting books. Or that one. The most idiotic book list is the 1001 Books to Read before you DIE one. It is a con job that combines the musky fear of dying with herd behaviour. Who the hell wants to read books that everyone reads? Do you want to live a life that is the copy of thousand other drones?
That was a tangent. Point is, I have a trajectory that is influenced by the desire to share, and that to hoard. If the book doesn't garner many more readers - which is what is certain to happen - then I'm very happy too. I am going to close my eyes tonight with the characters, especially the cops, of this book sharing space in my head.
Finally, I think that books will get better with age as each author recycles the best devices in books with better colours. Books have improved over with age. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Books are the ultimate high for the mind. The best ones are those that set our imagination afire, and keep us aglow....more
The book is a masterpiece, of that I don't doubt. It rings so true too. It feels lifelike, even if a few of the people - real people - are both largerThe book is a masterpiece, of that I don't doubt. It rings so true too. It feels lifelike, even if a few of the people - real people - are both larger than life and also dead, giving the story told a marvellous hue. The book is almost a standalone. The Path to Power is too good to overlook. But if push comes to shove, then do your bookish self a favour and read this biography.
Unlike a sizeable % of the books I'm fond of, this is not a forgotten but remembered book from my childhood. Neither it is a book that is a beloved Fantasy, a sequel a la Harry Potter. Robert A. Caro, the chronicler, has done his country and the Western (and Eastern) civilisation a favour. Of course, the book is not for everyone. But I say that only in terms of the likelihood the book will fall in the lap of a twenty-something reader. And that is a damn shame.
The book starts from chaos. Lyndon Baines Johnson's political plans are foiled by WW2, and by the removal of the shade provided by Roosevelt. I still don't know how exactly Johnson goes about charming the stalwarts of Washington, that bastion that radiates power and prestige. Washington DC might be the only capital city in developed countries that, outside of its museums and memorials, has little to offer to the tourist. But it is the root of every senatorial and every presidential existence.
For someone who doesn't like congenital liars and shysters, I was not surprised to find myself aloof from LBJ's narrative. But the book made me curious about his life. This book was written with so much detail yet one is never in doubt about its sources and its veracity. This is the first nonfiction book that made me cry aloud in excitement ((view spoiler)[when Stevenson gets to be the nemesis of Johnson (hide spoiler)]).
Johnson's characterisation has a familiar sound and look and feel to it. You can imagine how often people of varying origins have a mind like his. A mind thirsty for power, recognition, respect, awe. The mind that dominates is no fun to be made a show of, but Caro gives it his all. Johnson's last book looks like it won't be completed, but the third book in the series has a reputation for being the best of the known four. I don't know if I will rank among its hailers. Means of Ascent provides sinister stories but also stories reeking with humanism.
Stevenson's life was very interesting to go through. You know that, when you read his feats of struggle, then of study, then of valour, that his is a life that doesn't, simply doesn't, grow on trees. He was my preferred person in the book. In context, he was probably a racist, but compared to that Johnson, he was a better man. Both Johnson and Stevenson have passions. The former for power, and the latter for amenableness and love of the land. The difference that really overshadows the quality in Stevenson gave him the last laugh. Coke Stevenson was born at a time when cowboys were passing into legend. He would add his epitaph to even that bygone era. But he lived for his ranch, dearly but honestly bought. He lived for the loves of his life. He was 20 years Johnson's senior and he outlived the latter. Both got what they were looking for, and while one sold his soul to do it, the other enriched his, to do it.
I beseech you, if you are looking for a tl;dr section in this review, here it is. Don't overlook this book. Give your romance/mystery/horror book of the month a rest for a few weeks, and give this book an opportunity to open your eyes to a world that was perhaps your country, but in which you, the native, was a stranger to.
I really enjoyed reading this book. It is the type of book that I thought certain history and philosophy books would turn out to be. This book should never make a cynic out of you. Evil things happen, but so do fair ones. I am very relieved to venture out of my well trampled trails. This particular trample leads you to... something unequivocal. Maybe the lesson to be learnt from this book is that everyone is a child of the earth, and under the skull of anyone, has a fixed potential, and also, that everyone born in the 19th century, seemed to have lead a brief life. We can only imagine....more
Finished the book a few minutes ago. It was near perfect. It rivalled the best books I've ever read. I daresay that Greenglass House is better than moFinished the book a few minutes ago. It was near perfect. It rivalled the best books I've ever read. I daresay that Greenglass House is better than most Harry Potter books. It was a wonderful read. What is funny is that I am - even now - lacking words to praise this magical book.
I cannot sit still writing this review. Saying this book is grimdark would not be true, but even if it were to be so, it is so much more than that. This book is a historical fiction, a Fantasy, a book about riddles and mysteries, a book about magic, a book about loneliness, a book about Christmas and friendship and kinship.
I now realise why I stopped writing longer reviews at various points on this site. It is because at these points, a few monumentally superb books came along, and sapped my synapses' ability to be teeming with ideas to share. I will try to be verbose just a while before contemplating the sequel, which might be just equal in terms of Epicurean currencies, to its predecessor.
I have also to deal with the sneaky suspicion that the book affected me in this way and placing me in a crowd of minority. It seems like this book affected me strongly because it was compatible with me. There is no Greenglass.com, AFAIK. There is no fanfic around this series. Though I am not sure of the veracity of these statements I am sure you know what I am hinting at. Let us proceed.
The book is set in the real world but with magic just round the corner. It reminds me of witches and wizards forgetting their spells, of Rapunzels never being rescued. Of Griffins dying out, of dragons' bones being mistaken for dinosaurs. Of magic carpets and lamps staying in their caves forever. The book reminds me of the first human to turn 80, lifting his eyes to the sun that now did not seem so shiny new anymore.
Kate Milford would do amazingly well if the sequel is as good as book 1. Greenglass house has a Chinese main character, and the jade like name for the book is no coincidence. I think that there is only one way book 2 would be as good as book 1, and that if the author has deeply thought about it before sending book 1 to her editor.
Finally I am concluding by not promising if this book will strike a similar chord with others. This is a book about children having an adventure, but does it make the book for children? I think so, because the adults, especially the latecomers and the parents of the MC, are barely detailed. This is a discrepancy just because I myself am an adult. And maybe therein lies its lack of catching fire for the larger reading community. Harry Potter was a success because it had people of all ages sharing space. Here I think the book is not set in its time enough for it to please most. I don't think it is always the timeless books that gain notoriety and immortality. It is the carved wooden figure that becomes a more valuable chess piece, not a plastic nor the ivory ones. It is the Vinyl records that have greater shelf life, not the gramophones nor the laser discs....more
This is the 2nd reread this year that got a 5 star rating from me. I wish that I could give 5 stars to first time reads, but if that is not going to hThis is the 2nd reread this year that got a 5 star rating from me. I wish that I could give 5 stars to first time reads, but if that is not going to happen anytime soon I'd better talk about this book. I have been enjoying a Renaissance of sorts in the way I've been writing good reviews, but here I've come up empty. There is only so much leeway one has with variety, especially given that I don't have most words in the English language at my beck and call.
This loss of inspiration has coincided with my cracking on my diet. Hope that is only correlation. O oreo where art thou? Anyway, Mother's Day Murder is a very good read, and it is for me the best 5 star read from me not to get a 4.00 average rating on Goodreads. This book seemed suspiciously a routine job from the author, Leslie Meier. But it turned out very well. I do not know the writing process that led to books like this, but something must be special about this book. It is readable.
Lucy Stone is a journalist at the Pennysaver, and those days at the office I could do without. nothing of interest happens there. Even when there are scoops to be covered we get Lucy shifted aside for the owner to take commands of the case. The stint as a journo is just a way to derive sympathy for Lucy. Most things occurring in this book leads to sympathy for her. These days at work may have been occupying more space in the books in the series that got a lesser score.
I think that what makes the book tick and breathes life into it is the humanising of Lucy. The cast surrounding her have enough depth to gift a depth of her own to the main character. Her life is continuous. We see her getting older as the series progresses. The sore point is that she and her family eat way too much to stay with a flat stomach, and Lucy's husband is so ripped that I'm surprised they don't have him on the cover. Remember that oreo joke I made before? Foreshadowing, ladies.
I was 50% right about the guilty's identity. It was not tough to figure it out. It would have been more interesting if a person in the full possession of his or her senses to pull off some of the more savvy crimes, but that is just an observation, not a complaint. Like most good romance movies, this book has a subtle fragrance of comedy in its pages. The series has always been a hit when the dialogue between the parents and the kids are often there, but not be repetitious, or with false notes. In the end, I just did not hesitate to give the book 5 stars. This book takes the sting out of ordinary life and presents us with an ordinary family from the US. There is a mixture of details and generalisations that has been present in the best books from the last few decades. I guess there is the difference between modern books and classics. Classics get away with murder, and cosies, not so much....more
Words of Radiance is a damn fine title of a very good book. In it the superheroes absorb something called Stormlight, and glow, and can fly and duel wWords of Radiance is a damn fine title of a very good book. In it the superheroes absorb something called Stormlight, and glow, and can fly and duel with the best of duellers. Along with being purdy, the flashes remind me of the brilliance of Sanderson's imagination.
This reread erased many confusions and unfounded hunches that I had collected like stamps, on my first read. Many misconceptions or simple confusions were ironed out. This is a Fantasy book. It is an improvement on the longwinded Fantasy books of the 70s and 80s where their brick sized mass seemed like overweight men who have a lot of gas. Does reinventing a tired genre cures one from wind? I personally intend to find out.
I thought that the ideas in the book were of the magnitude of serious daring. Many of the ideas fitted each other like Lego blocks, or puzzle pieces. It is the result of intense thought. The result makes the reader be immersed in the society created by the author. Reading this feels right.
I hope to live long enough to reread this, when inexorably, my memories of the book dulls. My favourite character remains Kaladin. It was a move of inspiration that made Sanderson give the name of 'Stormblessed' to his most heroic and least boring character. I have a fondness for him because he expresses the type of angst that takes delay to be recognised as that of a new adult.
Shallan is the main problem in this book. She does never shut up. She is not funny, and not even smart. Her goofiness passes for fencing humor here, but she is beyond help. She is an issue, but the only one.
Words of Radiance seems complete and unchanging. Its reputation will stay immortal. Its treatment of slavery, religion, economics, Monarchy, its inspiration for names from many cultures, its lithe storytelling, will stay like a huge pyramid that will weather storms for fun. Just like the Eiffel Tower was the first building to be higher than the pyramids, 2400 years later after the latter, so will Words of Radiance be unchallenged for decades at least.
I will also salute the format of the book. It is easily the best e-book design I've ever seen. Then there are the hints that are lovingly revealed throughout confused, small passages. The very supernatural aspects of the book come in small packets. This reread made me understand that. I see things in the story clearer. A perfunctory read of the book will not do. Your eyes need to be alert for pages and pages of suggestions and hints. I look to the past with scorn, at the Tolkienising of Fantasy. But I look to the future with eager pride at what I have witnessed....more
I have finished reading Perdido Street Station, and I recognise the hand of a master. The ending was absurd resistance. The logic in the shingles of tI have finished reading Perdido Street Station, and I recognise the hand of a master. The ending was absurd resistance. The logic in the shingles of the book a bastion against rest.
The book was more than I was prepared to fathom. Everything seemed like the first draft of fate, with nothing being changed, or rather, shortchanged.
Liking Perdido Street Station means understanding the oozing patience of the author and readers alike. I was reading the book through my trusted Kindle. But in effect it seemed as if I were watching over the shoulder of Mieville as he wrote.
And boy, can he write. This book never felt like cyberpunk. I had been loath to travail through this subgenre of Fantasy again after countless cold and mutated works.
Here, everything was free as sugar. You get great writing, great plotting, great vision whether you ask for it, whether you are prepared for it or not. The book is grudging greed unmasked.
I would not write a spoiler laden review even if you paid me enough. Mieville is so much better than many better selling authors of his generation. Read this and say no....more
Assassin's Apprentice has a shine to it. It is a dull kind of shine, like light passing through amber. It is a confident piece of fiction. Fantasy, noAssassin's Apprentice has a shine to it. It is a dull kind of shine, like light passing through amber. It is a confident piece of fiction. Fantasy, no less. And it was released when the stampede to write the next Lord of the Rings had abated.
I thought that this was a mighty tale. When I had read all but the last two chapters, excluding the footnote of an epilogue, I realised that the book would appear in my top 20 books read, of all time, and of all genres.
I usually recoil on myself and refuse to take part in the illusion of reading whenever the main character has too hard a life. Fitz has that. But there was something that appealed to my sense of karmic bookkeeping. My uncontrollable ache and concern for the hero was harnessed.
Robin Hobb masterfully orchestrated her story. She displayed patience and kept her narrative detached in a woody, wobbly kind of writing. Like most excellent Fantasy, magic here was hard to find. This was a Fantasy world that knew its identity. It was not a pseudo medieval and humid cosmos.
The small pockets of good and bad befalling saw to the uncaring pace of the book. I sometimes forgot myself while reading. It felt as if I was really loving which is the proper elicitation that a great book guarantees. All things considered, I liked this book to a feverish degree....more
Examining Drown Her Sorrows after reading (and thoroughly enjoying) it feels like an autopsy within an autopsy. This is a book that draws inspiration Examining Drown Her Sorrows after reading (and thoroughly enjoying) it feels like an autopsy within an autopsy. This is a book that draws inspiration more from shows than other books. It has a movie like quality to it. I went along with the plot despite what I felt about its plausibility.
The author must have done something ingenious to neutralise my complaints, so now I do admit it, I got none. The pernicious events that result from the murder are not far reaching. The small world created by Melinda Leigh will never be original, sprawling, imaginative, or modernist. Instead it is full of people who want to do their best at what they are good at. Solving crimes for some, and committing them for others. This cat and mouse game breathed life in the proceedings.
I tend to think of my taste in books as 'true' in some ways. That is pure hokum, but the illusion of being right is so pleasant. At the very least, I dislike certain books because they annoy me in subjective ways. But the reason I like Drown Her Sorrows is a pure one. It is very fun to read. Writing a fun book is very laborious but the inspiration of doing it correctly is more like luck. Just as a sense of humor that is not strong hatches a good joke now and then... well that seems more like luck. I think I'm going to reread this book soon....more
Find me made me enamoured with the author. Not only because she is freaking good at writing, but because she is also not that good. I'll explain laterFind me made me enamoured with the author. Not only because she is freaking good at writing, but because she is also not that good. I'll explain later. This book was very minimalist yet so bold and beautiful.
I wouldn't have known that I was journeying into the part of the thriller genre that says: enough about lone wolf killers. Enough about tattooed, gender defying, solitary, crazy killers. This book is a rejuvenation of the genre. The spooky thing about this is that the person who recommended this book to me is now gone from the internet.
Find me has a lot of stamina. The twists are the meat and drink of the genre, but keeping them coming in such clinical doses is a neat feat. The author has the audience's measure. She knows about your BMI and cooks up a book that can weird anyone out, but reading is not the same as living, of course.
So, Anne Frasier packs a lot of pure venomous force in her books, but only those that begin a series. That's how she operates, don't ask me why. She is frankly average at sequels. If I find that she is planning a new series, that will be manna from heaven. So now you know. Couldn't be clearer....more
I thought I wouldn't be surprised by this thin volume. I was wrong. This book is just what I like about stories that keep reeling you in, while you enI thought I wouldn't be surprised by this thin volume. I was wrong. This book is just what I like about stories that keep reeling you in, while you enjoy every scent, every sight, every sound that it has to offer.
I think the half happy, half sad ending was entirely out of the blue. I would have preferred a happier ending. But the end is not yet come. I wish I could meet the author and ask her how she devised this thing that I read in hours. How cascading, and how illuminating this experience reached her imagination.
The book is a fairy tale. It is that. It is much more. Look, part of me was aloof when beginning reading. I knew there will be manipulative twists to this story. I was a willing participant in this read. But the best twists are those that you forget are manipulative.
Even now, I don't know what hit me. Perhaps others won't be impressed. There is a certain love story here, but that too is a surprise. I hope when reading this book you'll understand this review. I want to read the sequels, the more manipulative the better....more
I have been keeping firmly away from every type and shade of reviews that would give me spoilers for this book, Jade City. I know there are one star rI have been keeping firmly away from every type and shade of reviews that would give me spoilers for this book, Jade City. I know there are one star reviews of this book. I don't understand the reason people give for it. The most misunderstanding complaint is that the book is boring.
Believe me, it is not. Nor will it not be for countless other readers. In trying to know why a minority hated it, I recall the books that ranked high to which I gave 1 star. Hamnet, A Prisoner of Birth, The Three Musketeers, many more. Some books that I rated 1 star were classics that would only please the initiated.
What I know is that I get Jade City. I love its earthy prose. I admire its openly vague acts of vagueness, i.e. little to no display of research, except perhaps for the accounting of the Jade in the book. Jade City is not extremely popular. But it is extremely well plotted. The pacing is perfect. It will be remembered by its fans and will not be completely forgotten.
Jade City is a stepping stone for me. I have made my peace with romance books. But though I'll never complete a romance book that mention genitals galore in its second chapter, I've made progress in the right direction.
Why am I telling you all this? I would have dropped Jade City in the not so distant past. I have evolved for the better. And this diversity is what I need to prevent me from becoming a YA book lover, or a scholar of Dickens. I will not specialise. Specialisation is for insects. You have only one life here. Take a sip from most books that you fancy....more