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Ivana A. | Diary of Difference (1171 KP) rated Quietus in Books
Oct 2, 2020
Sometimes, we don’t search for a particular book to read. It just finds us. That happened to me with “Quietus”. One of the best books I’ve read this year. I connected to Nick immediately, and the story was appealing, so it was a struggle to close the book. This is one of the books that you read in one breath. I could connect with all the characters, with Nick, with Carrie, even with Sophie.
The description about them made me like them in a different way, all of them, yes, even Sophie. The author describes not only the physical part, but also their thoughts and how their mind works, and before you even realize it, you have this strong bond with every single one of them.
The personality of Sophie is so well described, that’s it’s almost unbelievable. All the sociopathic characteristics, the whole building of this character is so appealing to read, it makes you want to know what’s wrong and how it can be fixed, and it is told by Nick, by someone who has affection towards this person and it tells both sides of the story, how a person can make you like them and make you hate them at the same time.
The scenes are so realistic, that I felt like I was there. Each chapter is left unfinished, and it only makes you want to read more and more. The whole death-life thing made this book special to me. It made me think way deeper than just how the scene are put, or how was the description of the characters. Maybe I didn’t get the point of the story… I just wonder now. It will bother me for days, that’s for sure. It will haunt me and make me think again and again, deeper and deeper about what was the character’s purpose in this book. Why they were exactly where they were, and why did Nick went to Jersey right after his death in the first place.
All in all, this indeed was a story that has a deep meaning behind her, that reaches into people’s minds and hearts and certainly stays there for a while, like I’m certain it will stay in mine too. It is a story that makes us realize things about life, and then ask ourselves if what we believed in up until now is really true. It made me think how sometimes dead people can influence us, like Carrie influenced Nick, and Nick influenced Sophie. It makes me think how, in fact, it isn’t the dead people that influence us, but just us ourselves.
When you think about it deeper, you’ll realize we don’t change because someone is influencing, but we change because someone woke up some thoughts in us, and it’s us that realize it all and then change. Did Sophie kill herself, or they were actually there, because the whole trip was their imagination. Did they influence her, or it was only Sophie herself? I guess I’ll never answer some of those questions, but I still do think sometimes it’s us ourselves that realize some things, even though Nick and Carrie’s deaths had a purpose too. If there wasn’t a Carrie, there wouldn’t be an imaginary trip to Sophie’s hospital. And if there wasn’t a Nick, we’d never realize that she’s a sociopath.
The description about them made me like them in a different way, all of them, yes, even Sophie. The author describes not only the physical part, but also their thoughts and how their mind works, and before you even realize it, you have this strong bond with every single one of them.
The personality of Sophie is so well described, that’s it’s almost unbelievable. All the sociopathic characteristics, the whole building of this character is so appealing to read, it makes you want to know what’s wrong and how it can be fixed, and it is told by Nick, by someone who has affection towards this person and it tells both sides of the story, how a person can make you like them and make you hate them at the same time.
The scenes are so realistic, that I felt like I was there. Each chapter is left unfinished, and it only makes you want to read more and more. The whole death-life thing made this book special to me. It made me think way deeper than just how the scene are put, or how was the description of the characters. Maybe I didn’t get the point of the story… I just wonder now. It will bother me for days, that’s for sure. It will haunt me and make me think again and again, deeper and deeper about what was the character’s purpose in this book. Why they were exactly where they were, and why did Nick went to Jersey right after his death in the first place.
All in all, this indeed was a story that has a deep meaning behind her, that reaches into people’s minds and hearts and certainly stays there for a while, like I’m certain it will stay in mine too. It is a story that makes us realize things about life, and then ask ourselves if what we believed in up until now is really true. It made me think how sometimes dead people can influence us, like Carrie influenced Nick, and Nick influenced Sophie. It makes me think how, in fact, it isn’t the dead people that influence us, but just us ourselves.
When you think about it deeper, you’ll realize we don’t change because someone is influencing, but we change because someone woke up some thoughts in us, and it’s us that realize it all and then change. Did Sophie kill herself, or they were actually there, because the whole trip was their imagination. Did they influence her, or it was only Sophie herself? I guess I’ll never answer some of those questions, but I still do think sometimes it’s us ourselves that realize some things, even though Nick and Carrie’s deaths had a purpose too. If there wasn’t a Carrie, there wouldn’t be an imaginary trip to Sophie’s hospital. And if there wasn’t a Nick, we’d never realize that she’s a sociopath.
Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated Scream (2022) in Movies
Jan 12, 2022
It is hard to believe it has been 25 years since “Scream” premiered and in doing so; brought new life into the slasher genre which had become stale due to an abundance of direct to DVD and cable releases combined with many uninspired and stale theatrical releases.
The movie was a massive success and launched a very successful trilogy and made the Ghostface killer and many moments from the series Pop Culture mainstays.
After a hiatus; “Scream 4” arrived and continued the series and in 2022; “Scream” has arrived which continues the story to the eager anticipation of fans.
When a young girl named Tara (Jenna Ortega); is brutally attacked in a fashion very similar to the Ghostface Killer; her sister Sam (Melissa Barrera); returns to Woodsboro to be by her side while Tara recuperates.
Sam is joined by her boyfriend Richie (Jack Quaid), who has no idea about the history of Woodsboro nor the popular “Stab” film series that is based on the events of the murders that have plagued the town.
Sam’s past troubles makes her return difficult and when Ghostface strikes again; she and Richie seek the help of Dewey (David Arquette); who has fallen on hard times and has split from Gayle (Courtney Cox). Despite his reluctance; Dewey gets involved and tells Sam the “rules” which would indicate the killer might be someone she knows and soon everyone in her and Tara’s circle becomes suspect even as the deaths start to increase.
This allows for some of the best moments of the film as the characters make references to several other modern and past horror franchises and discuss things from online Trolls, rabid fans, and other Pop Culture references which provides some tongue in cheek humor about the series and also establishes the world of “Scream” as one where people are well-versed in horror films old and new and have modified the rules based on sequel, prequel, and “Requel” rules for films.
As tensions and body count mounts; Gayle, Dewey, and Sidney (Neve Campbell) must face their fears to stop Ghostface before it is too late.
While the final act of the film is very over the top and at times absurd; it does provide plenty of the elements that fans have come to expect from the series. I was able to accurately see and predict almost all of the twists very early in the film and did not have many surprises as the film unfolded; I think many will still find enough enjoyment watching the tale unfold as after four films I have a pretty good idea of the formula for the series and also have many years of this as I saw the twists in “The Sixth Sense” and “The Village” very early in the films so I just seem to have a knack for this sort of thing.
While it does not break much in the way of new ground; the film does deliver what fans have come to expect and I did find in more enjoyable than “Scream 3” and there was more than enough to keep me entertained. There have been rumors that a sixth film has already been planned and if so: I will be more than ready for more.
3.5 out of 5
The movie was a massive success and launched a very successful trilogy and made the Ghostface killer and many moments from the series Pop Culture mainstays.
After a hiatus; “Scream 4” arrived and continued the series and in 2022; “Scream” has arrived which continues the story to the eager anticipation of fans.
When a young girl named Tara (Jenna Ortega); is brutally attacked in a fashion very similar to the Ghostface Killer; her sister Sam (Melissa Barrera); returns to Woodsboro to be by her side while Tara recuperates.
Sam is joined by her boyfriend Richie (Jack Quaid), who has no idea about the history of Woodsboro nor the popular “Stab” film series that is based on the events of the murders that have plagued the town.
Sam’s past troubles makes her return difficult and when Ghostface strikes again; she and Richie seek the help of Dewey (David Arquette); who has fallen on hard times and has split from Gayle (Courtney Cox). Despite his reluctance; Dewey gets involved and tells Sam the “rules” which would indicate the killer might be someone she knows and soon everyone in her and Tara’s circle becomes suspect even as the deaths start to increase.
This allows for some of the best moments of the film as the characters make references to several other modern and past horror franchises and discuss things from online Trolls, rabid fans, and other Pop Culture references which provides some tongue in cheek humor about the series and also establishes the world of “Scream” as one where people are well-versed in horror films old and new and have modified the rules based on sequel, prequel, and “Requel” rules for films.
As tensions and body count mounts; Gayle, Dewey, and Sidney (Neve Campbell) must face their fears to stop Ghostface before it is too late.
While the final act of the film is very over the top and at times absurd; it does provide plenty of the elements that fans have come to expect from the series. I was able to accurately see and predict almost all of the twists very early in the film and did not have many surprises as the film unfolded; I think many will still find enough enjoyment watching the tale unfold as after four films I have a pretty good idea of the formula for the series and also have many years of this as I saw the twists in “The Sixth Sense” and “The Village” very early in the films so I just seem to have a knack for this sort of thing.
While it does not break much in the way of new ground; the film does deliver what fans have come to expect and I did find in more enjoyable than “Scream 3” and there was more than enough to keep me entertained. There have been rumors that a sixth film has already been planned and if so: I will be more than ready for more.
3.5 out of 5
Movie Metropolis (309 KP) rated Alien: Covenant (2017) in Movies
Jun 11, 2019
Bigger isn't always better
Ridley Scott’s Alien prequel Prometheus wasn’t as warmly received as the veteran director had hoped for upon its release in 2012. In pitching the film for the coveted 12A market, Scott lost the majority of what made his 1979 masterpiece, rated 18, such an epic adventure.
So, five years on, Scott returns with a follow-up that aims to answer those irritating questions that Prometheus left us with. But is Alien: Covenant a return to form for the series? Or yet another damp squib?
Bound for a remote planet on the far side of the galaxy, crew members (Katherine Waterston, Billy Crudup, Danny McBride) of the colony ship Covenant discover a distress signal from what they believe to be an uncharted paradise. While there, they meet David (Michael Fassbender), the synthetic survivor of the doomed Prometheus expedition. However, this new mysterious world soon turns dangerous when a hostile alien life-form forces the crew into a deadly fight for survival.
In Covenant, Scott has tried to take the series back to its horror roots. This is a gory and at times difficult film to stomach, but it just isn’t scary. Despite gaining a 15 certification from the BBFC, Covenant feels like Prometheus on steroids – it’s certainly bigger and in many ways better than its predecessor, but it fails to move this ailing franchise in any new direction.
Naturally, character development takes a backseat here, as it does with many films in the genre, but Scott cleverly casts his characters as loving couples, which raises the emotion once the inevitable bloodshed starts to occur.
That cast is most definitely Covenant’s strongest suit. Prometheus had a distinctly unlikeable roster of characters that didn’t gel together. Here, the way they interact is believable and each of the couplings has a degree of chemistry that helps give their deaths some emotional heft.
Katherine Waterston channels Sigourney Weaver to some extent and makes a good leading lady and Danny McBride’s Tennessee is an excellent presence in an against-type performance from the comedian. However, Michael Fassbender’s portrayal of androids Walter and David is exceptional.
To look at, this is by far the best film in the series. Scott has crafted a detailed, haunting world that emits a damp, grey colour palate. The action is expertly shot, but this is to be expected from a director with decades in the industry. Even the Covenant ship itself feels more grounded in reality when compared to the technology of the Prometheus.
Unfortunately, once the remaining crew arrive ‘safely’ back onboard the Mother ship, things start to unravel rapidly. The film takes far too long to land on the uncharted planet meaning that the final act is rushed and this is a real shame considering the middle 45 minutes feature some of the best sequences in the entire series.
It is nice to see our favourite movie extra-terrestrial’s back in the confines of a spaceship, and the CGI used to bring them to life means they move with a fluidity like never before, but there just isn’t enough of it. It needs more Xenomorph.
Elsewhere, Jed Kurzel’s beautiful score lifts the film in its first half, becoming deeply unnerving and claustrophobic in its second. The change in tone is obvious and helps signify the optimism of the crew as they land, compared with the terror as those that remain leave the planet.
Overall, Alien: Covenant improves on Prometheus in the sense that it feels like a true Alien film, rather than a half-baked idea to cash in on the franchise. Unfortunately, a poor final act, a lack of new direction and yet another frustratingly open story means we still may not get the answers we so desperately want until the inevitable sequel arrives in a few years time.
https://moviemetropolis.net/2017/05/12/bigger-isnt-always-better-alien-covenant-review/
So, five years on, Scott returns with a follow-up that aims to answer those irritating questions that Prometheus left us with. But is Alien: Covenant a return to form for the series? Or yet another damp squib?
Bound for a remote planet on the far side of the galaxy, crew members (Katherine Waterston, Billy Crudup, Danny McBride) of the colony ship Covenant discover a distress signal from what they believe to be an uncharted paradise. While there, they meet David (Michael Fassbender), the synthetic survivor of the doomed Prometheus expedition. However, this new mysterious world soon turns dangerous when a hostile alien life-form forces the crew into a deadly fight for survival.
In Covenant, Scott has tried to take the series back to its horror roots. This is a gory and at times difficult film to stomach, but it just isn’t scary. Despite gaining a 15 certification from the BBFC, Covenant feels like Prometheus on steroids – it’s certainly bigger and in many ways better than its predecessor, but it fails to move this ailing franchise in any new direction.
Naturally, character development takes a backseat here, as it does with many films in the genre, but Scott cleverly casts his characters as loving couples, which raises the emotion once the inevitable bloodshed starts to occur.
That cast is most definitely Covenant’s strongest suit. Prometheus had a distinctly unlikeable roster of characters that didn’t gel together. Here, the way they interact is believable and each of the couplings has a degree of chemistry that helps give their deaths some emotional heft.
Katherine Waterston channels Sigourney Weaver to some extent and makes a good leading lady and Danny McBride’s Tennessee is an excellent presence in an against-type performance from the comedian. However, Michael Fassbender’s portrayal of androids Walter and David is exceptional.
To look at, this is by far the best film in the series. Scott has crafted a detailed, haunting world that emits a damp, grey colour palate. The action is expertly shot, but this is to be expected from a director with decades in the industry. Even the Covenant ship itself feels more grounded in reality when compared to the technology of the Prometheus.
Unfortunately, once the remaining crew arrive ‘safely’ back onboard the Mother ship, things start to unravel rapidly. The film takes far too long to land on the uncharted planet meaning that the final act is rushed and this is a real shame considering the middle 45 minutes feature some of the best sequences in the entire series.
It is nice to see our favourite movie extra-terrestrial’s back in the confines of a spaceship, and the CGI used to bring them to life means they move with a fluidity like never before, but there just isn’t enough of it. It needs more Xenomorph.
Elsewhere, Jed Kurzel’s beautiful score lifts the film in its first half, becoming deeply unnerving and claustrophobic in its second. The change in tone is obvious and helps signify the optimism of the crew as they land, compared with the terror as those that remain leave the planet.
Overall, Alien: Covenant improves on Prometheus in the sense that it feels like a true Alien film, rather than a half-baked idea to cash in on the franchise. Unfortunately, a poor final act, a lack of new direction and yet another frustratingly open story means we still may not get the answers we so desperately want until the inevitable sequel arrives in a few years time.
https://moviemetropolis.net/2017/05/12/bigger-isnt-always-better-alien-covenant-review/
Kristy H (1252 KP) rated Let Me Lie in Books
Mar 14, 2018
Slow-building shocking thriller
Anna Johnson is still reeling from the suicide of her father, Tom, when her mother, Caroline, dies as well, in a suicide that copies that of Tom's. A year later, Anna is grief-stricken, parenting a young baby, and trying to put together the pieces of her life. She lives in her parents' old home, surrounded by memories of their life together. On the anniversary of her mother's death, Anna receives a suspicious note that prompts her to dig into her parents' past and their deaths. She quickly discovers that nothing is as it seems--not their suicides, nor the happy childhood memories she holds so dear.
I really love Clare Mackintosh; her first novel, I Let You Go, is one of my favorites, and she's one of those authors I follow on Twitter and find very relatable. So I was very excited to finally get a chance to read this one. I'm still in awe of Mackintosh--who spent twelve years in the police force--and her writing talent. She has such a talent for creating some of her characters. And boy, can she really shock you with a plot twist.
I must first preface that if you have issues or triggers with suicide, this might be one to skip. Having lost a loved one to suicide, I can tell you that this can be a little hard to read. But Mackintosh treats the subject very delicately; she also presents us with a character with BPD, and I thought her treatment of mental illness was very well-done.
The novel is told mainly from Anna's point of view and that of a former police detective, Murray, who gets involved with her case. We do get snippets from someone else--we are left to imagine to try to figure out who it is, when they are speaking, and what has happened to them. Once Anna receives the note questioning her mother's suicide, she takes it to the police, where Murray--an investigator/detective now relegated to desk duty post-retirement--starts looking into it, which is a bit against the rules. This doesn't matter to us, because unless you have no heart, you'll immediately love Murray. He was the star of the story, to me, and I immediately adored him. He's also a great detective and a wonderful force in the book. (Can we have another story with Murray, please, Ms. Mackintosh?)
The book is ominous, creepy, and and tense, as the story slowly builds to its conclusion. It's not a fast-paced thriller, per se, but I was definitely fascinated in what had happened to Anna's parents. I was kept guessing for good chunks of the book, which I certainly appreciated. There are a bunch of twists and turns, several of which had me quite surprised. I just love how Mackintosh can throw you off track and then shock you quite convincingly.
For me, part of this book was a little far-fetched, and I thought Anna acted a little odd at times -- though in her defense, the poor girl is put through a lot. The book is best if you roll with the surprises and just enjoy them. Even better, you have Murray, who offers a touching character (his interactions with his wife are beyond lovely and show a deftness in writing that is quite impressive) as well as superbly-written detective. The book was compelling; nearing the end, I kept going "what? what did he find? who?!" so I know it was effective in creating suspense. It's also creepy at times and surprising until the end. Well-done. 4 stars.
I received a copy of this novel from the publisher and Edelweiss in return for an unbiased review. More at http://justacatandabookatherside.blogspot.com/.
I really love Clare Mackintosh; her first novel, I Let You Go, is one of my favorites, and she's one of those authors I follow on Twitter and find very relatable. So I was very excited to finally get a chance to read this one. I'm still in awe of Mackintosh--who spent twelve years in the police force--and her writing talent. She has such a talent for creating some of her characters. And boy, can she really shock you with a plot twist.
I must first preface that if you have issues or triggers with suicide, this might be one to skip. Having lost a loved one to suicide, I can tell you that this can be a little hard to read. But Mackintosh treats the subject very delicately; she also presents us with a character with BPD, and I thought her treatment of mental illness was very well-done.
The novel is told mainly from Anna's point of view and that of a former police detective, Murray, who gets involved with her case. We do get snippets from someone else--we are left to imagine to try to figure out who it is, when they are speaking, and what has happened to them. Once Anna receives the note questioning her mother's suicide, she takes it to the police, where Murray--an investigator/detective now relegated to desk duty post-retirement--starts looking into it, which is a bit against the rules. This doesn't matter to us, because unless you have no heart, you'll immediately love Murray. He was the star of the story, to me, and I immediately adored him. He's also a great detective and a wonderful force in the book. (Can we have another story with Murray, please, Ms. Mackintosh?)
The book is ominous, creepy, and and tense, as the story slowly builds to its conclusion. It's not a fast-paced thriller, per se, but I was definitely fascinated in what had happened to Anna's parents. I was kept guessing for good chunks of the book, which I certainly appreciated. There are a bunch of twists and turns, several of which had me quite surprised. I just love how Mackintosh can throw you off track and then shock you quite convincingly.
For me, part of this book was a little far-fetched, and I thought Anna acted a little odd at times -- though in her defense, the poor girl is put through a lot. The book is best if you roll with the surprises and just enjoy them. Even better, you have Murray, who offers a touching character (his interactions with his wife are beyond lovely and show a deftness in writing that is quite impressive) as well as superbly-written detective. The book was compelling; nearing the end, I kept going "what? what did he find? who?!" so I know it was effective in creating suspense. It's also creepy at times and surprising until the end. Well-done. 4 stars.
I received a copy of this novel from the publisher and Edelweiss in return for an unbiased review. More at http://justacatandabookatherside.blogspot.com/.
Mayhawke (97 KP) rated Bats In The Belfry in Books
Feb 26, 2018 (Updated Feb 27, 2018)
A Cosy Crime sleeper worthy of resurrection
I’m a huge fan of Cosy Crime, I cut my grown-up reading teeth on Agatha Christie and Dorothy L Sayers, so it should be no surprise that I’m a big fan of the British Library’s inspired decision to republish lost Golden Age novels.
Fifty-one re-issues in and I’m still stunned at the number of authors who had stellar careers as crime writers, were fully inducted members of the Detection Club, and had publication lists to rival Christie’s but who, within a few years of their deaths, had just vanished from the pantheon classic crime novelists.
Such a writer was E.C.R.Lorac, author of Bats In The Belfry. In his introduction Martin Edwards describes the pseudonymous Lorac (real name Edith Caroline Rivett) as enjoying a “low-key career spanning more than a quarter of a century.” It also produced a catalogue of over seventy novels, yet, cosy crime fan that I am I had never heard of her until her book turned up on my work intranet.
Bats, British Library’s inaugural Crime Classic for 2018, is also the first of Lorac’s novels to be given the British Library treatment. It couldn’t have happened to a better book! One of the dangers of republishing books that have disappeared in the mists of time, at least if you are republishing them for the mass market, is that some of them will prove to have been ‘lost’ with good cause. Not that the writing need be poor or the plotting weak, but there are social aspects that can be critical to the development or fundamental premise of the story that change over the course of half a century. When that happens there is a danger that the reader will at best be disgruntled with a puzzle they were unlikely to be able to solve because they didn’t understand the clues they were being given, or, at worst, that the whole premise will seem beyond ludicrous to modern readers. Of the twenty or so BLCC’s I have read only one has fallen into the latter category, and whilst there have been one or two which were a bit plodding thanks to such issues they have largely been a pleasure to read, and I have been able to joyfully pit my wits against the authors’ intrinsic challenge to solve the mystery before the denouement.
Bats in the Belfry most definitely falls into this class of Crime Classic, so much so that it’s a surprise to find from Edwards that it was a bit of a non-starter when it was first published in 1937.
A failing writer, his actress wife, his ward and a selection of friends are collected one evening following the funeral of the writer’s cousin. Shortly thereafter the writer himself has vanished, his suitcase and passport left in a darkly sinister studio known variously as The Belfry, and The Morgue. The story is as dark and twisty as any you could hope for from a member of the Detection Club, and it plays nicely on themes of the time. Broken marriages, financially emasculated men, and the requisite ‘strange foreign man’ all appear, and even aarchaeology gets a look in. As the main characters sit and incautiously discuss ways to bump off someone and hide the body there is brief verbal tussle over the usefulness – and even existence of – dene holes, ancient subterranean storage areas that provided writers of the time with endless possibilities, most notably in Sayers’ The Nine Tailors. Lorac’s plotting is flawless and deceptively simplistic, and she leads you back and forth from suspect to suspect. She is brutally unsympathetic to her characters, and her writing bundles you along until you finally reach the conclusion, to discover how good you are at detecting. Or not.
Fifty-one re-issues in and I’m still stunned at the number of authors who had stellar careers as crime writers, were fully inducted members of the Detection Club, and had publication lists to rival Christie’s but who, within a few years of their deaths, had just vanished from the pantheon classic crime novelists.
Such a writer was E.C.R.Lorac, author of Bats In The Belfry. In his introduction Martin Edwards describes the pseudonymous Lorac (real name Edith Caroline Rivett) as enjoying a “low-key career spanning more than a quarter of a century.” It also produced a catalogue of over seventy novels, yet, cosy crime fan that I am I had never heard of her until her book turned up on my work intranet.
Bats, British Library’s inaugural Crime Classic for 2018, is also the first of Lorac’s novels to be given the British Library treatment. It couldn’t have happened to a better book! One of the dangers of republishing books that have disappeared in the mists of time, at least if you are republishing them for the mass market, is that some of them will prove to have been ‘lost’ with good cause. Not that the writing need be poor or the plotting weak, but there are social aspects that can be critical to the development or fundamental premise of the story that change over the course of half a century. When that happens there is a danger that the reader will at best be disgruntled with a puzzle they were unlikely to be able to solve because they didn’t understand the clues they were being given, or, at worst, that the whole premise will seem beyond ludicrous to modern readers. Of the twenty or so BLCC’s I have read only one has fallen into the latter category, and whilst there have been one or two which were a bit plodding thanks to such issues they have largely been a pleasure to read, and I have been able to joyfully pit my wits against the authors’ intrinsic challenge to solve the mystery before the denouement.
Bats in the Belfry most definitely falls into this class of Crime Classic, so much so that it’s a surprise to find from Edwards that it was a bit of a non-starter when it was first published in 1937.
A failing writer, his actress wife, his ward and a selection of friends are collected one evening following the funeral of the writer’s cousin. Shortly thereafter the writer himself has vanished, his suitcase and passport left in a darkly sinister studio known variously as The Belfry, and The Morgue. The story is as dark and twisty as any you could hope for from a member of the Detection Club, and it plays nicely on themes of the time. Broken marriages, financially emasculated men, and the requisite ‘strange foreign man’ all appear, and even aarchaeology gets a look in. As the main characters sit and incautiously discuss ways to bump off someone and hide the body there is brief verbal tussle over the usefulness – and even existence of – dene holes, ancient subterranean storage areas that provided writers of the time with endless possibilities, most notably in Sayers’ The Nine Tailors. Lorac’s plotting is flawless and deceptively simplistic, and she leads you back and forth from suspect to suspect. She is brutally unsympathetic to her characters, and her writing bundles you along until you finally reach the conclusion, to discover how good you are at detecting. Or not.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated The Storyteller in Books
Dec 7, 2018
This is my Book of the Month for May 2014. You can check out and reblog my Tumblr post here: http://fuzzysparrow.tumblr.com/post/87410836442
Jodi Picoult is the bestselling author of numerous novels, with <i>My Sister’s Keeper</i> being the most well known, perhaps. All of her stories are well written although it is still possible to notice improvements in the writing over the years right up until now with her latest, <i>The Storyteller</i>, which quite possibly could be her best yet.
Arguably, <i>The Storyteller</i> does not quite read as a Jodi Picoult novel is known to. This is, in part, because of the nature of the story. Most of her previous books deal with medical ethics and/or court cases, whereas this story contains neither. <i>The Storyteller</i> contains a combination of past and present - the main focus being on the Holocaust.
Four people narrate the novel: two in the present day and two giving an account of their experience during the Second World War. It begins with Sage Singer, a 25 year old, hermit-like woman with a disfiguring facial scar – the result of a terrible accident, one that also led to the death of her mother. For the past three years Sage has been participating in a grief group – a place where people who have lost loved ones can come together and talk about their feelings. After three years surely Sage would no longer need the help of the group? However she still attends, not because she finds it helpful, but for the opposite reason. She even says herself: “If it were helpful I wouldn’t still be coming.” It unfolds that she still blames herself for her mother’s death despite the reassurances that it was an accident and not her fault.
It is through the grief group that Sage meets an elderly man, Josef Weber. After becoming friendly and discovering that Sage comes from a Jewish family, Josef confesses to something terrible – he was a Nazi during the war. He killed people. He wants Sage to represent all the Jews he killed and forgive him. Then he wants her to help him die.
Whilst, Josef recounts his experience of being part of the Nazi party, another account is also given. Minka, Sage’s grandmother, describes the terrors she faced as an imprisoned Jew suffering fates such as the deaths of all her family and friends and her time in Auschwitz. Another element to the novel is the vampire story Minka wrote as a teenager. This is interspersed between the other chapters of the book. Unwittingly, Minka’s fictional tale reflects the alienation and destruction of the Jews. The final character is Leo who, like Sage, is narrating the present day, and trying to locate ex-Nazi members in order for them to be punished by the government.
One thing to praise Picoult for, not just in <i>The Storyteller</i>, but also in all her novels is the amount of in-depth research she undertakes to make her stories as accurate as possible even though they are fictional. Minka’s account was written is such a way that it was almost believable that Picoult had been there and experienced it herself. She even learnt to bake bread so that she could write from the point of view of a baker. This is pure dedication!
<i>The Storyteller</i> is an amazing, beautiful book, which is not purely an enjoyable read. It informs, shocks and stays with you for a long time. You will question your own morals and ability to forgive. Is anyone entirely evil? Is anyone entirely good? Perhaps we are both, so why should anyone have the right to treat others as inferior from themselves?
Jodi Picoult is the bestselling author of numerous novels, with <i>My Sister’s Keeper</i> being the most well known, perhaps. All of her stories are well written although it is still possible to notice improvements in the writing over the years right up until now with her latest, <i>The Storyteller</i>, which quite possibly could be her best yet.
Arguably, <i>The Storyteller</i> does not quite read as a Jodi Picoult novel is known to. This is, in part, because of the nature of the story. Most of her previous books deal with medical ethics and/or court cases, whereas this story contains neither. <i>The Storyteller</i> contains a combination of past and present - the main focus being on the Holocaust.
Four people narrate the novel: two in the present day and two giving an account of their experience during the Second World War. It begins with Sage Singer, a 25 year old, hermit-like woman with a disfiguring facial scar – the result of a terrible accident, one that also led to the death of her mother. For the past three years Sage has been participating in a grief group – a place where people who have lost loved ones can come together and talk about their feelings. After three years surely Sage would no longer need the help of the group? However she still attends, not because she finds it helpful, but for the opposite reason. She even says herself: “If it were helpful I wouldn’t still be coming.” It unfolds that she still blames herself for her mother’s death despite the reassurances that it was an accident and not her fault.
It is through the grief group that Sage meets an elderly man, Josef Weber. After becoming friendly and discovering that Sage comes from a Jewish family, Josef confesses to something terrible – he was a Nazi during the war. He killed people. He wants Sage to represent all the Jews he killed and forgive him. Then he wants her to help him die.
Whilst, Josef recounts his experience of being part of the Nazi party, another account is also given. Minka, Sage’s grandmother, describes the terrors she faced as an imprisoned Jew suffering fates such as the deaths of all her family and friends and her time in Auschwitz. Another element to the novel is the vampire story Minka wrote as a teenager. This is interspersed between the other chapters of the book. Unwittingly, Minka’s fictional tale reflects the alienation and destruction of the Jews. The final character is Leo who, like Sage, is narrating the present day, and trying to locate ex-Nazi members in order for them to be punished by the government.
One thing to praise Picoult for, not just in <i>The Storyteller</i>, but also in all her novels is the amount of in-depth research she undertakes to make her stories as accurate as possible even though they are fictional. Minka’s account was written is such a way that it was almost believable that Picoult had been there and experienced it herself. She even learnt to bake bread so that she could write from the point of view of a baker. This is pure dedication!
<i>The Storyteller</i> is an amazing, beautiful book, which is not purely an enjoyable read. It informs, shocks and stays with you for a long time. You will question your own morals and ability to forgive. Is anyone entirely evil? Is anyone entirely good? Perhaps we are both, so why should anyone have the right to treat others as inferior from themselves?
Kayleigh (12 KP) rated The Fault in Our Stars in Books
Jan 2, 2019
If you don’t want to read a long review, here’s my summary: Read. This. Book. It is perfect.
In my last review (of <a href="http://awowords.wordpress.com/2013/02/02/beautiful-creatures/">Beautiful Creatures</a>), I was a little harsh about the portrayal of love stories in teenage/young adult fiction. The backbone of this book is that slowly but surely, the two main characters, Hazel and Augustus, fall in love. It’s not some pre-determined, intense force that sweeps the characters off their feet. It’s slow and steady, with a few set-backs, much like Hazel’s breathing at times, if you like. As Hazel puts it, perfectly:
<blockquote>“I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.”</blockquote>
There’s nothing glamorous – life goes up and down, it’s sad and it’s funny, it’s not fair. It’s real.
In The Fault in Our Stars, John Green introduces us to two extremely philosophical teenagers that have been through a lot more than most people, with the knowledge that there is only more hardship to come. He humanises something I know I have never really thought about – the feelings, and more specifically, the sense of humour cancer sufferers/survivors have throughout it all. I talk about the humour later, but something that really got the message across was Hazel finally admitting her biggest fear to her parents. Hazel, the girl who decided to become a vegetarian so as to “minimise the number of deaths I’m responsible for.”
<blockquote>“‘I’m like. Like. I’m a grenade, Mom. I’m a grenade and at some point I’m going to blow up and I would like to minimise the casualties, okay?’”</blockquote>
It was the realness of the characters that got me so attached. For the last third of the story, I was unabashedly sobbing (luckily, alone. The first time I finished this, I was on a bus). To be blunt (and a little bit gross), the best way I can describe the end of this book is like this. When I was a child, I’d be crying my eyes out over something or other, and my mum would be comforting me. When the worst was over, she’d joke that I’d better not have got snot on her jumper, which would make me laugh through the tears. I’m trying not to put spoilers in here, but the next quote, for example, happens just after one of the most poignant parts of the book. It lightens the mood without altering the seriousness, and at the same time reminding us that they are, after all, only teenagers.
<blockquote>“He smiled. Gallows humour. ‘I’m on a roller coaster that only goes up,’ he said.
‘And it is my privilege and my responsibility to ride all the way up with you,’ I said.
‘Would it be absolutely ludicrous to try to make out?’
‘There is no try,’ I said. ‘There is only do.’”</blockquote>
John Green managed to blend humour and tragedy perfectly. If you’ve read the book already, he wrote a blog post answering questions about the book – I’d recommend a read. I don’t want to waffle, so I’ll leave it there, but I’d wholeheartedly recommend The Fault in Our Stars - it’s an instant favourite and already has a place in my heart. Don’t forget the tissues!
Oh, and about the film that’s apparently in the works – did anyone else picture Hazel as looking a little like Ellen Page in Juno? Maybe it’s a similar attitude to life, but I could only see her as this!
PS – Sorry for anglicising the quotes – habit!
This review is also on my <a href="http://awowords.wordpress.com">blog</a>; - if you liked it, please check it out!
In my last review (of <a href="http://awowords.wordpress.com/2013/02/02/beautiful-creatures/">Beautiful Creatures</a>), I was a little harsh about the portrayal of love stories in teenage/young adult fiction. The backbone of this book is that slowly but surely, the two main characters, Hazel and Augustus, fall in love. It’s not some pre-determined, intense force that sweeps the characters off their feet. It’s slow and steady, with a few set-backs, much like Hazel’s breathing at times, if you like. As Hazel puts it, perfectly:
<blockquote>“I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.”</blockquote>
There’s nothing glamorous – life goes up and down, it’s sad and it’s funny, it’s not fair. It’s real.
In The Fault in Our Stars, John Green introduces us to two extremely philosophical teenagers that have been through a lot more than most people, with the knowledge that there is only more hardship to come. He humanises something I know I have never really thought about – the feelings, and more specifically, the sense of humour cancer sufferers/survivors have throughout it all. I talk about the humour later, but something that really got the message across was Hazel finally admitting her biggest fear to her parents. Hazel, the girl who decided to become a vegetarian so as to “minimise the number of deaths I’m responsible for.”
<blockquote>“‘I’m like. Like. I’m a grenade, Mom. I’m a grenade and at some point I’m going to blow up and I would like to minimise the casualties, okay?’”</blockquote>
It was the realness of the characters that got me so attached. For the last third of the story, I was unabashedly sobbing (luckily, alone. The first time I finished this, I was on a bus). To be blunt (and a little bit gross), the best way I can describe the end of this book is like this. When I was a child, I’d be crying my eyes out over something or other, and my mum would be comforting me. When the worst was over, she’d joke that I’d better not have got snot on her jumper, which would make me laugh through the tears. I’m trying not to put spoilers in here, but the next quote, for example, happens just after one of the most poignant parts of the book. It lightens the mood without altering the seriousness, and at the same time reminding us that they are, after all, only teenagers.
<blockquote>“He smiled. Gallows humour. ‘I’m on a roller coaster that only goes up,’ he said.
‘And it is my privilege and my responsibility to ride all the way up with you,’ I said.
‘Would it be absolutely ludicrous to try to make out?’
‘There is no try,’ I said. ‘There is only do.’”</blockquote>
John Green managed to blend humour and tragedy perfectly. If you’ve read the book already, he wrote a blog post answering questions about the book – I’d recommend a read. I don’t want to waffle, so I’ll leave it there, but I’d wholeheartedly recommend The Fault in Our Stars - it’s an instant favourite and already has a place in my heart. Don’t forget the tissues!
Oh, and about the film that’s apparently in the works – did anyone else picture Hazel as looking a little like Ellen Page in Juno? Maybe it’s a similar attitude to life, but I could only see her as this!
PS – Sorry for anglicising the quotes – habit!
This review is also on my <a href="http://awowords.wordpress.com">blog</a>; - if you liked it, please check it out!
BookwormMama14 (18 KP) rated The Bachelor Girl's Guide to Murder (Herringford and Watts, #1) in Books
Jan 2, 2019
In a time when women never wore trousers and most definitely did not solve murders...Herringford & Watts break every rule in the book of propriety and pave their own future. The year is 1910. Toronto has seen it's share of progress and changes over the last few years. Yet, a woman's duty is still to marry, keep house and raise a family. Merinda Herringford and Jemima Watts are best friends, flatmates...and...detectives. These women do not fit the mold for a "Proper Lady". However, they are living out their dreams and following their passion. And to that I say, "Brava!" When the Herringford & Watts Detective Agency opens for business, mischief, madness and mayhem follow wherever these two go. When the mystery of the deaths of two Irish girls is brushed over by the police and press, Herringford & Watts step in to solve the case. The Morality Squad is on the prowl looking for an excuse to cart women away in the name of, "Cleaning up the town". Reasons may include, but are not limited to: a hemline too short, being out without an escort and sticking their nose in the wrong people's business. For this reason, Merinda and Jem masquerade as men with bowler hats on a fairly regular basis. This offers them the freedom of movement that would otherwise be denied them as women. Leading them to new depths and new heights. Joining forces with Constable Jasper Forth and Ray DeLuca, a reporter, will this team see that justice is served? Will their adventures take them too far? And will these bachelor girls be the voice for the women who have none?
I can honestly say that by page 10 of the novella (A Singular & Whimsical Problem), I was addicted to Herringford & Watts! From the cover design of the book to the quirky traits of these two women, I will treasure their story for many years to come. Let's talk about the book itself for a minute. There are several different aspects to the layout that intrigued me. First of all, the silhouettes on the cover (aren't they gorgeous), can be found at the beginning of each chapter as well, with artwork. Giving a deeper impression of the era. There are lovely quotes at the beginning of each chapter as well. Throughout the book you will find footnotes. Not referencing history books, but referencing our characters and addressing the reader personally. This dynamic didn't just draw me into the story, oh no, it gobbled me up and left me wandering the streets of Toronto, trying to walk without using my hips...Through these footnotes we learn a lot about all of our characters, without the need of an extra hundred pages, although I wouldn't have complained about that either.
The story is one of the most beautifully crafted books I have ever read. I am a HUGE fan of Sherlock and Murdoch Mysteries. And to have a story similar to those with women playing the lead...Brilliant! While we see the story through the perspective of different characters, it is mainly through Jem's eyes. Throughout their crime solving adventure, we can see the strength and determination of these women to do the right thing. Jem and Ray both look to the Lord for guidance and are comforted and encouraged by His voice and His peace. While God is a puzzle too big to solve for Merinda at this point. If you enjoy a good mystery with a lot of humour and some faith...THIS is the book for you! There are pins and needles that I am sitting on, waiting for the next book to come out!
I can honestly say that by page 10 of the novella (A Singular & Whimsical Problem), I was addicted to Herringford & Watts! From the cover design of the book to the quirky traits of these two women, I will treasure their story for many years to come. Let's talk about the book itself for a minute. There are several different aspects to the layout that intrigued me. First of all, the silhouettes on the cover (aren't they gorgeous), can be found at the beginning of each chapter as well, with artwork. Giving a deeper impression of the era. There are lovely quotes at the beginning of each chapter as well. Throughout the book you will find footnotes. Not referencing history books, but referencing our characters and addressing the reader personally. This dynamic didn't just draw me into the story, oh no, it gobbled me up and left me wandering the streets of Toronto, trying to walk without using my hips...Through these footnotes we learn a lot about all of our characters, without the need of an extra hundred pages, although I wouldn't have complained about that either.
The story is one of the most beautifully crafted books I have ever read. I am a HUGE fan of Sherlock and Murdoch Mysteries. And to have a story similar to those with women playing the lead...Brilliant! While we see the story through the perspective of different characters, it is mainly through Jem's eyes. Throughout their crime solving adventure, we can see the strength and determination of these women to do the right thing. Jem and Ray both look to the Lord for guidance and are comforted and encouraged by His voice and His peace. While God is a puzzle too big to solve for Merinda at this point. If you enjoy a good mystery with a lot of humour and some faith...THIS is the book for you! There are pins and needles that I am sitting on, waiting for the next book to come out!
Hazel (1853 KP) rated Flame in the Mist in Books
Dec 17, 2018
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</i>
Famed for her highly rated <i>The Wrath & The Dawn</i>, Renée Ahdieh has created a new fantasy world full of original characters. Set in a land similar to the Middle Eastern countries we are familiar with, <i>Flame in the Mist</i> incorporates out-dated ideology, ancient lifestyle with a hint of supernatural, and, of course – it is a Young Adult novel after all – a dash of romance. With an eclectic mix of themes, it is a book without cessation of adventure.
The protagonist, Hattori Mariko, at the mere age of 17, is destined to marry the son of the Emperor’s favourite concubine, Prince Raidan. The book commences with the journey from her home, however, Mariko never makes it to the city. Ambushed and presumed dead, Mariko is alone in the dangerous forest, at risk of being discovered by the infamous Black Clan. Instead of waiting for rescue, Mariko, fed up of women being treated as inferior to men, decides she does not want to go home, nor does she want to marry the prince. Her only remaining option is to locate the Black Clan and discover who attempted to murder her. But for this to work, she needs to convince everyone she is a boy.
Whilst Mariko is worming her way into the clan, her twin brother is determined to track down and rescue his sister. Unbeknownst to him, Mariko is beginning to feel more affiliated with their enemies than with her own family. And so a dilemma arises. Does Mariko betray her new “friends” or be unfaithful to the brother she loves?
<i>Flame in the Mist</i> is not only about Mariko’s predicament; it also concerns an age-old feud between powerful families, involving the wrongful death of a disgraced Samurai. As the younger generation reach maturity, they determine to avenge the deaths of their fathers, and, without knowing, Mariko ends up in the centre of two warring parties.
It is a little difficult to get into the story initially; many characters are introduced, but their significance is not obvious for some time. To add to the confusion, vital persons are only formally presented at the end of the novel, which finishes on a cliffhanger. The similarity of the foreign sounding names also creates uncertainty.
Ahdieh cleverly includes a problematic situation that our own world has (almost) overcome. Mariko represents the female population, a gender that is believed to be inferior to their male counterparts. Controlled by fathers, husbands, and powerful leaders, women do not have the opportunity to make their own decisions about their lives. Although it is disconcerting that someone wishes to take Mariko’s life, the ambush provides her with the freedom and chance to prove women are as capable as men. Sadly, she has to pretend to be a boy in order to do this.
It was inevitable that there would be a love interest in <i>Flame in the Mist</i>, however, it is not as inspiring as readers may hope for. The attraction between Mariko and a member of the Black Clan almost comes out of nowhere. Not only was Mariko believed to be male for a wide stretch of the novel, the character in question was one of the more abusive.
<i>Flame in the Mist</i> being the first novel I have read by Renée Ahdieh, I have nothing with which to compare it or state why it is readers particularly admire her writing. The story was mediocre at best, with very little characters that garner respect. Having been published less than a month ago, there is already a lot of hype surrounding this book – either I am missing something vital, or readers are going to be disappointed.
Famed for her highly rated <i>The Wrath & The Dawn</i>, Renée Ahdieh has created a new fantasy world full of original characters. Set in a land similar to the Middle Eastern countries we are familiar with, <i>Flame in the Mist</i> incorporates out-dated ideology, ancient lifestyle with a hint of supernatural, and, of course – it is a Young Adult novel after all – a dash of romance. With an eclectic mix of themes, it is a book without cessation of adventure.
The protagonist, Hattori Mariko, at the mere age of 17, is destined to marry the son of the Emperor’s favourite concubine, Prince Raidan. The book commences with the journey from her home, however, Mariko never makes it to the city. Ambushed and presumed dead, Mariko is alone in the dangerous forest, at risk of being discovered by the infamous Black Clan. Instead of waiting for rescue, Mariko, fed up of women being treated as inferior to men, decides she does not want to go home, nor does she want to marry the prince. Her only remaining option is to locate the Black Clan and discover who attempted to murder her. But for this to work, she needs to convince everyone she is a boy.
Whilst Mariko is worming her way into the clan, her twin brother is determined to track down and rescue his sister. Unbeknownst to him, Mariko is beginning to feel more affiliated with their enemies than with her own family. And so a dilemma arises. Does Mariko betray her new “friends” or be unfaithful to the brother she loves?
<i>Flame in the Mist</i> is not only about Mariko’s predicament; it also concerns an age-old feud between powerful families, involving the wrongful death of a disgraced Samurai. As the younger generation reach maturity, they determine to avenge the deaths of their fathers, and, without knowing, Mariko ends up in the centre of two warring parties.
It is a little difficult to get into the story initially; many characters are introduced, but their significance is not obvious for some time. To add to the confusion, vital persons are only formally presented at the end of the novel, which finishes on a cliffhanger. The similarity of the foreign sounding names also creates uncertainty.
Ahdieh cleverly includes a problematic situation that our own world has (almost) overcome. Mariko represents the female population, a gender that is believed to be inferior to their male counterparts. Controlled by fathers, husbands, and powerful leaders, women do not have the opportunity to make their own decisions about their lives. Although it is disconcerting that someone wishes to take Mariko’s life, the ambush provides her with the freedom and chance to prove women are as capable as men. Sadly, she has to pretend to be a boy in order to do this.
It was inevitable that there would be a love interest in <i>Flame in the Mist</i>, however, it is not as inspiring as readers may hope for. The attraction between Mariko and a member of the Black Clan almost comes out of nowhere. Not only was Mariko believed to be male for a wide stretch of the novel, the character in question was one of the more abusive.
<i>Flame in the Mist</i> being the first novel I have read by Renée Ahdieh, I have nothing with which to compare it or state why it is readers particularly admire her writing. The story was mediocre at best, with very little characters that garner respect. Having been published less than a month ago, there is already a lot of hype surrounding this book – either I am missing something vital, or readers are going to be disappointed.