Search
Rejected Mate (Shifter World: Royal-Kagan #5)
8.0
Rate It
Book
Going from a shunned mate to top pack female… Has never been more satisfying. Born human and...
Paranormal Romance
The Shadow Sun
Games and Entertainment
App
The ultimate Western action RPG has arrived on iOS! Embark on an epic dark fantasy in the grand...
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Sir Apropos of Nothing in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Sir Apropos of Nothing Skewers the Hero’s Journey
Contains spoilers, click to show
Fantasy and satire are two of my favorite genres in any medium, but especially so in books. Satirical fantasy, then, holds a special place on my shelves. I grew up on Sir Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, and desire to imitate him and his style is what led me in middle school to begin writing in earnest, for fun, and for myself rather than just for my teachers and their assignments.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.
So when I picked up Sir Apropos of Nothing, I did so based on the title pun and the back-of-the-book synopsis that promised “a berserk phoenix, murderous unicorns, mutated harpies, homicidal warrior kings, and – most problematic of all – a princess who may or may not be a psychotic arsonist.” I expected another lighthearted riff on the familiar archetypes. Murderous unicorns? Unicorns are not typically described as such! Oh teehee, how unexpectedly humorous!
Sir Apropos of Nothing is a satirical fantasy, just like it promised, though at times it’s hard to tell how much of the story is played for laughs and how much is played straight. See, the thing about satire that’s easy to forget at times is that it’s not synonymous with buffoonery. Make no mistake – Apropos is a funny book, full of witty dialogue and groan-inducing puns. It’s a book that takes great delight in lampshading traditional fantasy tropes and archetypes, as well as the entirety of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey idea. But it is not always a silly lampshade; sometimes a cliche or trope is pointed out to have its inherit ridiculousness laughed at, and sometimes it is pointed out because it is causing real and lasting pain or damage, either to the society in which it is set or, more often, to the titular Apropos himself and his ever-degrading esteem of both the people around him and himself.
The tone, at first, is hard to pin down. The story starts in media res with the main character being caught by a knight while in mid-coitus with that knight’s wife and escalates from there. The second chapter opens with a fourth wall-breaking narrative admission by Apropos himself that this was done with the express purpose of catching your attention, and now we’re going back to cover Apropos’s childhood, which ends up being equal parts dark, tragic, punny, and conveniently trope-filled – all of which Apropos, as narrator, approaches with the same resigned, blasé outlook.
If this sounds a bit jarring, well, it kind of is. Early on, I wasn’t sure what to think of where the story was trying to go or what I was expected to feel about it. After the first turn from cliché to dark and visceral to light and punny, all within a few pages, I caught myself thinking, “Crap, is this book gonna try and mix goofy jokes with serious drama and thoughtful moral quandary?”
The answer is yes. And it pulls it off fantastically.
This is due in large part to the interesting depths of the antihero, Apropos, who seems to be so named purely for the joke in the title. In Apropos we see a deep sense of justice and rightness that is entirely eclipsed by an even deeper cynicism and an unshakeable instinct for self-preservation. His life is objectively terrible, but rather than brood and lament, he adjusts. He keeps his head down when he can, weathers abuse when he can’t, and learns to deal with the constant shit storm, all the while bottling his growing anger and resentment at a world that would allow such amounts of suffering and hypocrisy to go unchecked. The fact that he himself becomes a selfish, hypocritical, and generally awful person is not lost on him, and the result is a flawed, unheroic, pathetic coward of a protagonist, a magnificently multifaceted bastard who doesn’t spare even himself from his vast and withering contempt.
And it’s a blast. It really is. Apropos is refreshingly pragmatic and unabashedly pessimistic, a welcome change from the typical righteous-yet-humble heroes of traditional fantasy, or even the loveable and untalented everyman in over his head of traditional fantasy spoofs. Despite a portentous birthmark (on his ass, no less) and beginnings that are not “humble” so much as “poverty of the dirtiest kind,” Apropos is everything a hero should not be short of outright evil.
And this, as it turns out, is entirely the point. This is where the satire, funny or otherwise, really shines through. This is the crux that elevates Sir Apropos of Nothing from a generically self-aware fantasy story to an original and memorable subversion of storytelling as a whole.
Without giving too much away, there comes a point in the plot where Apropos realizes that the events surrounding his miserable life are part of a heroic tale that has been preordained by Fate and is now being epically written out by Destiny. And despite his birthmark, his tragic past, and his mother’s constant reassurances that he has some sort of great destiny hovering over him, he is not the hero. He is only a minor character. A walk-on role on the hero’s stage. A brief pit-stop along the hero’s journey. An NPC whose dreams, desires, and continued existence are so far below importance to the story as to be utterly negligible.
And once this finally clicks with him, he violently, brazenly rebels against it. He gives an emphatic middle finger to Fate’s ideas and sets about making Destiny sit up and take notice of him again. He momentarily and violently overcomes his own abject cowardice just long enough to find a way to completely wreck the traditional heroic ballad in which he lives, all on the basis that, dammit, the world owes him more than this, and nobody should be so miserably cursed as to live their entire life as a foil character.
At this point in my own reading, I didn’t know whether to cheer him on or worry about the repercussions of his actions, because he doesn’t suddenly become heroic when this happens. He’s exactly as much of a selfish, lying bastard as before, and however bad you feel for him, you can completely understand why he was never cast for this role in the first place. Add to this the complete disregard of the author for following what seems to be the obvious progression of events in favor of twists that take you completely by surprise, but still make complete sense and arise organically from the story itself, and you eventually give up thinking that you have any sense of where the story’s going or how any event is going to play out. From beginning to end, it feeds you familiar ideas and then completely subverts them, introduces clichés and then proceeds to tear them apart, and you laugh and pity and feel something the entire way through.
In short, Sir Apropos of Nothing is a book that will keep you turning page after page – not necessarily because of the gripping drama (although it has that) or because of any breezy humor (although it has that too), or because the narration itself oozes suspense (although it often does), but because, with the rapid infusion of new and creative ideas and the hidden depths of character constantly bubbling to the surface in everyone involved, you honestly never know what’s going to happen next. If you like fantasy and can stand to have your expectations messed with, Apropos is certainly apropos.
Rachel King (13 KP) rated Ink Exchange (Wicked Lovely, #2) in Books
Feb 11, 2019
The second book in the Wicked Lovely series is decidely darker than the first book, especially as it focuses on the Dark Court. A major plot point is Leslie's struggles to deal with how her brother and father have fallen off the "deep end" and the rape that her brother allowed to happen to her. She believes a tattoo will allow her to reclaim her body as her own and stop being afraid, but the tattoo she chooses has unimaginable consequences as she becomes entangled into the drama of the faery courts that her best friend Aislinn belongs to.
I like the change in main characters, as we get to see this world through other characters' eyes as well as learn about different aspects that Keenan or Aislinn may not be familiar with. I had a difficult time finding a character to really love, as all three of the main characters, Leslie, Irial, and Niall, all seemed to have major faults that I had a hard time getting around. The theme for this book seemed to be the darker side of humanity and how deeply entrenched people can get into the "gray" area of life, while still believing that they are not doing anything wrong. Irial wants to only use Leslie, just as he has for every other mortal, but then he falls for her. Leslie wants to be her own person and hates her brother for his druggie lifestyle, but then becomes an addict just like Ren. Niall has shunned the Dark Court for all it stands for, even denying his own nature, but then wants Leslie so bad that he unknowingly uses what he is and what the Dark Court is about to try and lure her to him. In a word, they all behave like hypocrites, but Marr is such a good writer, that I find myself feeling sorry for all of them at some point. While in many fantasy genre works, the female lead often has to choose between two guys, Marr takes a completely unpredictable approach, and I think that I like this ending the best of all possibilities. Plus, since this is only the second book in a series, there is potential for Leslie to change her mind in the long run as she becomes more comfortable in her own skin.
The way that Marr approaches the horrific trauma that Leslie endured prior to this book's beginning is handled very delicately, as it should be. It is never really described in detail what exactly happens to her, and it is mostly left up to the reader's imagination, which I think is a smart move in that girls who have been in a situation similar to Leslie's can relate to her and feel like they have a voice in her words and thoughts. This alone is what makes this book both poignant and powerful. The fact that both males vying for her affection try to rescue her from this trauma in his own way is what redeems both of them for me.
Politics run heavy in this series, and while I am not really a fan of politics in real life, fantasy books often make it much more interesting, Marr's writing being no exception. The dynamics between the faery courts are quite intriguing and I think they seem to balance one another out well, even though at first glance it might seem like some should be kept over others. I find myself constantly wondering about the High Court and its Queen, Sorcha, which I can look forward to in the third installment in the series, Fragile Eternity (Wicked Lovely).
I like the change in main characters, as we get to see this world through other characters' eyes as well as learn about different aspects that Keenan or Aislinn may not be familiar with. I had a difficult time finding a character to really love, as all three of the main characters, Leslie, Irial, and Niall, all seemed to have major faults that I had a hard time getting around. The theme for this book seemed to be the darker side of humanity and how deeply entrenched people can get into the "gray" area of life, while still believing that they are not doing anything wrong. Irial wants to only use Leslie, just as he has for every other mortal, but then he falls for her. Leslie wants to be her own person and hates her brother for his druggie lifestyle, but then becomes an addict just like Ren. Niall has shunned the Dark Court for all it stands for, even denying his own nature, but then wants Leslie so bad that he unknowingly uses what he is and what the Dark Court is about to try and lure her to him. In a word, they all behave like hypocrites, but Marr is such a good writer, that I find myself feeling sorry for all of them at some point. While in many fantasy genre works, the female lead often has to choose between two guys, Marr takes a completely unpredictable approach, and I think that I like this ending the best of all possibilities. Plus, since this is only the second book in a series, there is potential for Leslie to change her mind in the long run as she becomes more comfortable in her own skin.
The way that Marr approaches the horrific trauma that Leslie endured prior to this book's beginning is handled very delicately, as it should be. It is never really described in detail what exactly happens to her, and it is mostly left up to the reader's imagination, which I think is a smart move in that girls who have been in a situation similar to Leslie's can relate to her and feel like they have a voice in her words and thoughts. This alone is what makes this book both poignant and powerful. The fact that both males vying for her affection try to rescue her from this trauma in his own way is what redeems both of them for me.
Politics run heavy in this series, and while I am not really a fan of politics in real life, fantasy books often make it much more interesting, Marr's writing being no exception. The dynamics between the faery courts are quite intriguing and I think they seem to balance one another out well, even though at first glance it might seem like some should be kept over others. I find myself constantly wondering about the High Court and its Queen, Sorcha, which I can look forward to in the third installment in the series, Fragile Eternity (Wicked Lovely).
Sarah (7799 KP) rated The Talisman in Books
Mar 27, 2019
A great read
Whenever I pick up a door stop of a Stephen King novel, I always expect great things as most of his epic novels are fantastically good. And for the most part, The Talisman definitely meets expectations.
It's a great fantasy story filled with all manner of concepts including alternate worlds, werewolves, wizards etc and it does well to blend all of these together into a cohesive story without becoming too convoluted. Jack is an endearing main character and develops well over the course of the story, and all of the other characters too are in their own ways intriguing, even Morgan Sloat as the bad guy. This story really reminds me of The Dark Tower series, which isn't a bad thing as it had a similar quest type theme. My only criticisms are that it seems to drag a little towards the very end, which isn't good for a 700 page book. And also I've never read any Peter Straub, but I could tell reading this the parts that weren't all King, and I think the story might have been worse off for it. When you've read as many of King's books as i have, you can tell his narrative apart and whilst it's still a very good book, I would've been interested to see how this book would've turned out if it had been written by him alone.
That said, I feel like I need to read the sequel now in the hope it's just as good!
It's a great fantasy story filled with all manner of concepts including alternate worlds, werewolves, wizards etc and it does well to blend all of these together into a cohesive story without becoming too convoluted. Jack is an endearing main character and develops well over the course of the story, and all of the other characters too are in their own ways intriguing, even Morgan Sloat as the bad guy. This story really reminds me of The Dark Tower series, which isn't a bad thing as it had a similar quest type theme. My only criticisms are that it seems to drag a little towards the very end, which isn't good for a 700 page book. And also I've never read any Peter Straub, but I could tell reading this the parts that weren't all King, and I think the story might have been worse off for it. When you've read as many of King's books as i have, you can tell his narrative apart and whilst it's still a very good book, I would've been interested to see how this book would've turned out if it had been written by him alone.
That said, I feel like I need to read the sequel now in the hope it's just as good!
Andrea D (21 KP) rated Sawkill Girls in Books
Jan 10, 2019
Female empowerment (1 more)
LGBTQA representation
Beautifully written and full of girl power.
You are mighty. You are one, and one, and one.
You are fragile. You can move mountains.
You are breakable. You will never break.
This power is mine. And now it is yours, too.
I love a good feminist fantasy novel.
This did not disappoint.
The horror aspect is there but it feels like a background to the character development of the 3 main female characters.
There's Zoey who is angry and it's good that she's angry, we'll celebrate her anger and fume along with her.
There's Val who is a victim of a controlling abusive force (or two) and always has been and we will grow and rebel and learn to love with her.
Then there's Marion who's always been the carer always carrying over peoples troubles on her shoulders, always the one to fix things and we will learn to let go with her, learn to be selfish if just for a few quiet moments in a stable with horses and a girl who needs to be loved.
The Asexual rep is excellent, the story is brilliant but it's secondary to these girls who through each chapter we fall a bit deeper in love with even when we think they're unforgivable Claire Legrand shows us how not everything is black and white.
Expect the tears to flow in those last few pages and your heart to leap with joy but always remember beware of the woods and the dark, dank deep.
You are fragile. You can move mountains.
You are breakable. You will never break.
This power is mine. And now it is yours, too.
I love a good feminist fantasy novel.
This did not disappoint.
The horror aspect is there but it feels like a background to the character development of the 3 main female characters.
There's Zoey who is angry and it's good that she's angry, we'll celebrate her anger and fume along with her.
There's Val who is a victim of a controlling abusive force (or two) and always has been and we will grow and rebel and learn to love with her.
Then there's Marion who's always been the carer always carrying over peoples troubles on her shoulders, always the one to fix things and we will learn to let go with her, learn to be selfish if just for a few quiet moments in a stable with horses and a girl who needs to be loved.
The Asexual rep is excellent, the story is brilliant but it's secondary to these girls who through each chapter we fall a bit deeper in love with even when we think they're unforgivable Claire Legrand shows us how not everything is black and white.
Expect the tears to flow in those last few pages and your heart to leap with joy but always remember beware of the woods and the dark, dank deep.
Sex with Shakespeare: Here's Much to Do with Pain, but More with Love
Book
A provocative, moving, kinky, and often absurdly funny memoir about Shakespeare, love, obsession,...
Reign of the Fallen
6.5
Rate It
Book
"This edgy fantasy doesn't just blur boundaries of genre, of gender, of past and present, life and...
young adult
Siren's Song
6.3
Rate It
Book
"The realization hits: We're not going to win. It's why I couldn't defeat Draewulf in Bron-because...
Prince of Thorns
8.3
Rate It
Book
From the publisher that brought you Game of Thrones...Prince of Thorns is the first volume in a...