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Hazel (1853 KP) rated Mirror, Shoulder, Signal in Books
Dec 7, 2018
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</i>
Shortlisted for The Man Booker International Prize 2017, <i>Mirror, Shoulder, Signal</i> is a piece of Danish literature by Dorthe Nors, translated into English by Misha Hoekstra. It has a tragicomic nature, introducing the 40-year-old Sonja, a woman who is trying but failing to move in the right direction.
Sonja is the type of character full of flaws that readers will recognise in themselves. Although she has successfully become self-employed, translating crime novels from Swedish into Danish, Sonja feels she has not accomplished anything in life. Despite one unlucky attempt at love, Sonja has remained single, moving to Copenhagen in an attempt to find herself. Determined to earn her driving licence Sonja braves the lessons in the busy city, however, she cannot handle gear changes. In other areas of her life, she tries weekly massage therapy and attempts a meditation exercise. Unfortunately, Sonja remains apathetic to the whole scenario and would rather be somewhere warm eating cake.
<i>Mirror, Shoulder, Signal</i> is a cleverly crafted title that makes repeat appearances throughout the narrative. The three words are instructions that Sonja repeats as a mantra each time she pulls away from the curb in her instructor’s car. The majority of the book takes place during these lessons, or, if not there, face down on Ellen’s massage table.
Sonja’s narration constantly varies between the present and memories from her childhood. A particular focus is the recollection of events involving her sister Kate. They may not have been close when they were young, but now it is almost impossible for Sonja to contact her sister. It is as though Sonja has been alienated from her own family.
Embellished with sexual innuendos, poor attempts at humour fail to bring any excitement to the story. There is no clear plot. At the beginning, readers may wonder if she will earn her driver’s licence – she does not – find love – she does not – find herself – she does not. What, then, was the point of this novel? Apart from a suggestion of future happiness in the final chapter of the book, there is no sense of resolution.
The issue with some translated stories is the loss of original intent and meanings. This does not seem to have been much of a problem in this instance; however, the translator has not been entirely successful in converting the Danish into a naturally flowing English.
Overall, <i>Mirror, Shoulder, Signal</i> is a bit of a disappointment, especially because it has been shortlisted for such a prestigious prize. Since the prize is meant to be awarding the author for continued creativity and contribution to fiction, it makes you wonder what critics saw in this novel to believe it stood a chance at earning the honour.
Shortlisted for The Man Booker International Prize 2017, <i>Mirror, Shoulder, Signal</i> is a piece of Danish literature by Dorthe Nors, translated into English by Misha Hoekstra. It has a tragicomic nature, introducing the 40-year-old Sonja, a woman who is trying but failing to move in the right direction.
Sonja is the type of character full of flaws that readers will recognise in themselves. Although she has successfully become self-employed, translating crime novels from Swedish into Danish, Sonja feels she has not accomplished anything in life. Despite one unlucky attempt at love, Sonja has remained single, moving to Copenhagen in an attempt to find herself. Determined to earn her driving licence Sonja braves the lessons in the busy city, however, she cannot handle gear changes. In other areas of her life, she tries weekly massage therapy and attempts a meditation exercise. Unfortunately, Sonja remains apathetic to the whole scenario and would rather be somewhere warm eating cake.
<i>Mirror, Shoulder, Signal</i> is a cleverly crafted title that makes repeat appearances throughout the narrative. The three words are instructions that Sonja repeats as a mantra each time she pulls away from the curb in her instructor’s car. The majority of the book takes place during these lessons, or, if not there, face down on Ellen’s massage table.
Sonja’s narration constantly varies between the present and memories from her childhood. A particular focus is the recollection of events involving her sister Kate. They may not have been close when they were young, but now it is almost impossible for Sonja to contact her sister. It is as though Sonja has been alienated from her own family.
Embellished with sexual innuendos, poor attempts at humour fail to bring any excitement to the story. There is no clear plot. At the beginning, readers may wonder if she will earn her driver’s licence – she does not – find love – she does not – find herself – she does not. What, then, was the point of this novel? Apart from a suggestion of future happiness in the final chapter of the book, there is no sense of resolution.
The issue with some translated stories is the loss of original intent and meanings. This does not seem to have been much of a problem in this instance; however, the translator has not been entirely successful in converting the Danish into a naturally flowing English.
Overall, <i>Mirror, Shoulder, Signal</i> is a bit of a disappointment, especially because it has been shortlisted for such a prestigious prize. Since the prize is meant to be awarding the author for continued creativity and contribution to fiction, it makes you wonder what critics saw in this novel to believe it stood a chance at earning the honour.
Cassie Osbourne (6 KP) rated The Secret Countess in Books
Nov 9, 2018
Countess Anna Grazinsky had it all: riches, jewels, palaces, English nannies, everything. And then the Russian revolution came along. Now in 1919, Anna and her family are penniless in London so she decides to get a job as a housemaid to the newly engaged Earl of Mersham.
This is the third Eva Ibbotson book that IÕve read this year and, whilst I have enjoyed them all, I canÕt help noticing that the characters are basically all the same. Heroine who seems completely perfect and has no flaws, love interest who is complex and often broody (also the most well rounded character in the book) and the obvious villain who spends the whole book being obviously villainous. All that being said, I do really like these characters. I could relate to Anna despite her perfectness, I understood RupertÕs problems regardless of how blind he was being at times and I enjoyed just how horrible and ruthless Muriel could be. I also loved the side characters. Ollie was adorable, Lavinia was hilarious and Baskerville was strangely well fleshed out for a dog (seriously, Ibbotson gives him a whole personality where most authors wouldnÕt have bothered). Yes most of the characters were simple without huge character arcs but I liked them all the same.
IbbotsonÕs writing style is easy to slip into and nice to read, if a little over fond of commas. However it is the atmosphere that really lets this book down Ñ there isnÕt really too much of it. There are a moments where a small amount is created, and those passages are certainly the most memorable, but there are unfortunately few and far between. ThatÕs not to say that the general feeling is bad or uncomfortable to read when it shouldnÕt be, but I would liked to have seen more of...well, something.
In a similar vein to what I said about the characters earlier, most of IbbotsonÕs young adult literature seems to follow a similar structure. Girl leaves family to do something or be someone that they often donÕt approve of, meets a misunderstood man, they fall in love but he is unavailable (or she thinks he is) and she leaves him without a word but donÕt worry, they are reunited and they all live happily ever after. However, if it ainÕt broke, donÕt fix it. While the main skeleton structure is used for most of her work, each of IbbotsonÕs books have a difference and a charm that stays with you and is memorable. There are plenty of little surprises and some twists and turns.
While this review may seem mixed and sound negative, I did really enjoy this book. I have kept it on my shelves with my other Eva Ibbotson novels for a reason and IÕm sure I will return to it.
Character: 7.5
Atmosphere: 5.5
Writing Style: 9
Plot: 8
Intrigue: 8
Logic: 8
Enjoyment: 8
This is the third Eva Ibbotson book that IÕve read this year and, whilst I have enjoyed them all, I canÕt help noticing that the characters are basically all the same. Heroine who seems completely perfect and has no flaws, love interest who is complex and often broody (also the most well rounded character in the book) and the obvious villain who spends the whole book being obviously villainous. All that being said, I do really like these characters. I could relate to Anna despite her perfectness, I understood RupertÕs problems regardless of how blind he was being at times and I enjoyed just how horrible and ruthless Muriel could be. I also loved the side characters. Ollie was adorable, Lavinia was hilarious and Baskerville was strangely well fleshed out for a dog (seriously, Ibbotson gives him a whole personality where most authors wouldnÕt have bothered). Yes most of the characters were simple without huge character arcs but I liked them all the same.
IbbotsonÕs writing style is easy to slip into and nice to read, if a little over fond of commas. However it is the atmosphere that really lets this book down Ñ there isnÕt really too much of it. There are a moments where a small amount is created, and those passages are certainly the most memorable, but there are unfortunately few and far between. ThatÕs not to say that the general feeling is bad or uncomfortable to read when it shouldnÕt be, but I would liked to have seen more of...well, something.
In a similar vein to what I said about the characters earlier, most of IbbotsonÕs young adult literature seems to follow a similar structure. Girl leaves family to do something or be someone that they often donÕt approve of, meets a misunderstood man, they fall in love but he is unavailable (or she thinks he is) and she leaves him without a word but donÕt worry, they are reunited and they all live happily ever after. However, if it ainÕt broke, donÕt fix it. While the main skeleton structure is used for most of her work, each of IbbotsonÕs books have a difference and a charm that stays with you and is memorable. There are plenty of little surprises and some twists and turns.
While this review may seem mixed and sound negative, I did really enjoy this book. I have kept it on my shelves with my other Eva Ibbotson novels for a reason and IÕm sure I will return to it.
Character: 7.5
Atmosphere: 5.5
Writing Style: 9
Plot: 8
Intrigue: 8
Logic: 8
Enjoyment: 8
Eilidh G Clark (177 KP) rated Goblin in Books
Jul 2, 2019
Brilliant book, well wriiten, original
Winner of the Saltire Society first book of the year award 2017, Goblin, by Ever Dundas is a brilliant and brave first novel. Set in both London during WW2 and in Edinburgh in 2011, the story is told in flashback. For me, the first half of the novel is the best, we meet Goblin as a nine-year-old tomboy with a love for animals and a passion for storytelling - both of which the protagonist collects.
Goblin has a difficult family life; a mother who doesn’t want her, 'Goblin-runt born blue. Nothing can kill you. [...] You're like a cockroach,' (p.5) a father who mends radio’s and barely talks and a brother (David) who spends most of his time in his bedroom. Left to her own devices, the protagonist, her dog Devil, and her two friends Mac and Stevie roam the neighbourhood and hang around in an abandoned worksite. As a collector of stories, Goblin enthusiastically attends the local church with Mac, 'I loved the stories, turning them over in my head, weaving my own.' (p.24) before meeting The Crazy Pigeon Lady who tells her tales of Lizards people from the realm below. The childhood innocence in these chapters, mixed with magic realism, break down the walls of adult reasoning and creates a wonderful suspension of disbelief.
But without giving away the story plot, the suspension of disbelief serves another purpose; to divert the reader (as well as the adult protagonist) from the truth. So, while the adult Goblin searches amongst her tangled past, she takes the reader along for the ride. We meet multiple parents, live life on the road, come alive on the streets and in the circus, explore love, death, desire, and hate – and somewhere in the middle we meet an impressive collection of animals - Goblin has it all. And as far as strong female protagonists go, she’s right up there with Anais Hendricks from Jenni Fagan’s Panopticon, to Janie Ryan in Kerry Hudson’s Tony Hogan Bought Me an Ice Cream Float Before He Stole My Ma, characters who are so real you might just walk by them on the street.
The only teeny tiny criticism about the novel is that the second half spans over a lengthy period of time and it felt a little rushed. However, there is so much to say about this novel, so many angles to discuss, from Queer Theory to Religion, from Myth to Realism, and as a graduate of English Literature I could have a field day studying this book but for now, as a lover of good books, I’ll give it a big thumbs up and a huge recommendation, it’ll be finding a space on my ‘keep’ book shelve.
Goblin, Ever Dundas (2017) published by Saraband
Goblin has a difficult family life; a mother who doesn’t want her, 'Goblin-runt born blue. Nothing can kill you. [...] You're like a cockroach,' (p.5) a father who mends radio’s and barely talks and a brother (David) who spends most of his time in his bedroom. Left to her own devices, the protagonist, her dog Devil, and her two friends Mac and Stevie roam the neighbourhood and hang around in an abandoned worksite. As a collector of stories, Goblin enthusiastically attends the local church with Mac, 'I loved the stories, turning them over in my head, weaving my own.' (p.24) before meeting The Crazy Pigeon Lady who tells her tales of Lizards people from the realm below. The childhood innocence in these chapters, mixed with magic realism, break down the walls of adult reasoning and creates a wonderful suspension of disbelief.
But without giving away the story plot, the suspension of disbelief serves another purpose; to divert the reader (as well as the adult protagonist) from the truth. So, while the adult Goblin searches amongst her tangled past, she takes the reader along for the ride. We meet multiple parents, live life on the road, come alive on the streets and in the circus, explore love, death, desire, and hate – and somewhere in the middle we meet an impressive collection of animals - Goblin has it all. And as far as strong female protagonists go, she’s right up there with Anais Hendricks from Jenni Fagan’s Panopticon, to Janie Ryan in Kerry Hudson’s Tony Hogan Bought Me an Ice Cream Float Before He Stole My Ma, characters who are so real you might just walk by them on the street.
The only teeny tiny criticism about the novel is that the second half spans over a lengthy period of time and it felt a little rushed. However, there is so much to say about this novel, so many angles to discuss, from Queer Theory to Religion, from Myth to Realism, and as a graduate of English Literature I could have a field day studying this book but for now, as a lover of good books, I’ll give it a big thumbs up and a huge recommendation, it’ll be finding a space on my ‘keep’ book shelve.
Goblin, Ever Dundas (2017) published by Saraband
Cyn Armistead (14 KP) rated American Gods in Books
Mar 1, 2018
I'm trying to remember whether or not I've read any of Gaiman's other novels before, and I'm fairly certain that I haven't. I read [b:Good Omens|12067|Good Omens|Terry Pratchett|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1266659394s/12067.jpg|4110990], but that was co-written with [a:Terry Pratchett|1654|Terry Pratchett|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1235562205p2/1654.jpg], and the collaboration was genius. I know that the entire world seems to love Sandman, of course, but I'm just not a fan of graphic novels. In fact, it took me a while to realize that the Good Omens co-author and the Sandman author were one and the same.
I've certainly read some short stories, too. The most memorable, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snow,_Glass,_Apples">"Snow, Glass, Apples"</a> was reprinted in an anthology I read recently. I find it disturbing, so I won't re-read it. Well-written, of course—it wouldn't be so very memorably distressing if it weren't so masterfully done! (I found the <a href="http://www.holycow.com/dreaming/stories/snow-glass-apples">text online</a> if you care to read it, but please understand that the story deals with pedophilia, necrophilia, and incest here. It is the polar opposite of all things Disney.) Snow White was never one of of my favorite fairy tales, and Gaiman definitely pushed it much farther down the list.
In any case, I don't know what I was expecting from Gaiman, but <i>American Gods</i> wasn't it. I like stories with happy endings, and within the first few chapters I was fairly sure that there wouldn't be one. Is Gaiman fundamentally opposed to joy, or is it just happiness that he doesn't allow?
The novel is epic. It is masterful. All that stuff from the big critics is dead on. The book could be used as the backbone of a mythological scavenger hunt if a teacher were willing to run a very unstructured but engaging course that way. I certainly enjoyed that aspect of it, and it made me glad that I was reading it on my iTouch so that I could look up anything I liked online at any time, no matter where I happened to be (which was almost always at home or somewhere else that had wifi access, happily).
I seldom want to see illustrations in any book, but yes, I think I would like to see good pictures of some of the characters Gaiman described in this one. On the other hand, without artwork I spent time imagining what the characters looked like based on the descriptions. I don't normally stop to do that, as such matters as seldom relevant to a plot, but these beings caught my fancy. Not enough that I would sit through an entire graphic novel, I'm afraid, but if I saw one now I might flip through it to see how the artist's renderings compare with my versions.
I'm seldom able to identify an overall Theme to the books I read. Most of them, honestly, are fluff. I'm fine with that. I read them because they entertain me. <i>American Gods</i> is different. It is entertaining, but it isn't light or fluffy in the least. It definitely has an easily identifiably Theme and Tropes and all those elements that I recall from long-ago classes, the sorts of things that put me off from my original English major because I hated tearing other author's works apart instead of writing anything original. (Now, I begin to understand that we were being taught to recognize what makes for good writing so we might have some hope of possibly creating some of it one day.)
I somewhat timidly conclude that <i>American Gods</i> is the first piece of Literature I've read in a very long time, and well worth the time spent reading it. (I find it rather amusing that it would be British Literature, despite its title, due to the author's nationality.) I'm not going to state the theme, because that would be a spoiler, and I hate putting those in reviews—but it's something that I see as a Truth, and one that needs to be stated far more often, especiallly today. It's even more interesting that it took a Brit to say it.
The book is dark, although it does have some very bright spots in it. I will acknowledge that I was going through a particularly bad time with regards to my health when I was reading it, but I still think it might be best for some people to read this one when in a fairly positive state of mind.
I've certainly read some short stories, too. The most memorable, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snow,_Glass,_Apples">"Snow, Glass, Apples"</a> was reprinted in an anthology I read recently. I find it disturbing, so I won't re-read it. Well-written, of course—it wouldn't be so very memorably distressing if it weren't so masterfully done! (I found the <a href="http://www.holycow.com/dreaming/stories/snow-glass-apples">text online</a> if you care to read it, but please understand that the story deals with pedophilia, necrophilia, and incest here. It is the polar opposite of all things Disney.) Snow White was never one of of my favorite fairy tales, and Gaiman definitely pushed it much farther down the list.
In any case, I don't know what I was expecting from Gaiman, but <i>American Gods</i> wasn't it. I like stories with happy endings, and within the first few chapters I was fairly sure that there wouldn't be one. Is Gaiman fundamentally opposed to joy, or is it just happiness that he doesn't allow?
The novel is epic. It is masterful. All that stuff from the big critics is dead on. The book could be used as the backbone of a mythological scavenger hunt if a teacher were willing to run a very unstructured but engaging course that way. I certainly enjoyed that aspect of it, and it made me glad that I was reading it on my iTouch so that I could look up anything I liked online at any time, no matter where I happened to be (which was almost always at home or somewhere else that had wifi access, happily).
I seldom want to see illustrations in any book, but yes, I think I would like to see good pictures of some of the characters Gaiman described in this one. On the other hand, without artwork I spent time imagining what the characters looked like based on the descriptions. I don't normally stop to do that, as such matters as seldom relevant to a plot, but these beings caught my fancy. Not enough that I would sit through an entire graphic novel, I'm afraid, but if I saw one now I might flip through it to see how the artist's renderings compare with my versions.
I'm seldom able to identify an overall Theme to the books I read. Most of them, honestly, are fluff. I'm fine with that. I read them because they entertain me. <i>American Gods</i> is different. It is entertaining, but it isn't light or fluffy in the least. It definitely has an easily identifiably Theme and Tropes and all those elements that I recall from long-ago classes, the sorts of things that put me off from my original English major because I hated tearing other author's works apart instead of writing anything original. (Now, I begin to understand that we were being taught to recognize what makes for good writing so we might have some hope of possibly creating some of it one day.)
I somewhat timidly conclude that <i>American Gods</i> is the first piece of Literature I've read in a very long time, and well worth the time spent reading it. (I find it rather amusing that it would be British Literature, despite its title, due to the author's nationality.) I'm not going to state the theme, because that would be a spoiler, and I hate putting those in reviews—but it's something that I see as a Truth, and one that needs to be stated far more often, especiallly today. It's even more interesting that it took a Brit to say it.
The book is dark, although it does have some very bright spots in it. I will acknowledge that I was going through a particularly bad time with regards to my health when I was reading it, but I still think it might be best for some people to read this one when in a fairly positive state of mind.
Janeeny (200 KP) rated The Pisces in Books
May 9, 2019 (Updated Jun 10, 2019)
Lucy is a student who doesn’t really know what she wants in life, and after an acrimonious break up from her boyfriend. Her sister throws her a lifeline, giving Lucy a break from her desert life in Phoenix, her sister asks Lucy to housesit for her whilst also attending a local therapy group. So Lucy heads to Los Angeles and it’s here that she has an awakening and a lurid affair with a merman.
I read this as this months book club book. The lady that suggested it did mention that there are a fair amount of sex scenes and sexual references so I was prepared. However I must say that, for me, none of the sex scenes were gratuitous, they formed part of the story. If you took out the sex scenes the book really wouldn’t make a lot of sense or would at least be a bit weaker for it. The language she uses isn’t cliche or cringey either (there’s no heaving breasts or throbbing body parts) it’s very ‘real’.
This book is a bit like the ones you’re given to read in English literature classes in school, that are rife with meaning and symbolism that you have no idea about until your teacher points it out. I feel there is a strong feminist message in there somewhere, as most of the women in the book are trying to fight a sexual reliance on men. It’s also heavily underlined by the fact that literally all the male characters are weak in one way or another.
To that point I really did not like Theo, the main love interest. He seemed a bit too weak, not as a character but as a person. This is a book with a strong feminist message, so it wouldn’t do to have your heroine overshadowed by a man so that is understandable. (A little side note, a member of my book group bought up the interesting idea that the ‘weakness’ is just an act and he’s psychologically preying on Lucy’s vulnerability)
There are a lot of references to Sappho, which again I feel hints at a feminist message. I’m sorry to say that even though I am aware of Sappho I have barely any knowledge about her. I have now acquired a couple of books from the library to remedy this.
There were some quite strong opinions on this in book group. Whilst I liked the book for it’s style of writing, one of the other ladies liked it for its controversy, but most of the group really didn’t like it at all. The strong feeling against it came, mostly, from the explicit language that was used, whilst one member was so bewildered by the events within the book she was convinced the main character was just on a big drug trip and hallucinating the whole thing.
A couple of us did take something away from the book, I took away a strong interest in the works of Sappho, and one of the other members took away a deeper understanding of a past friend whose behaviour she recognised in some of the characters in the book.
I think we’re going for something a little less controversial next month
I read this as this months book club book. The lady that suggested it did mention that there are a fair amount of sex scenes and sexual references so I was prepared. However I must say that, for me, none of the sex scenes were gratuitous, they formed part of the story. If you took out the sex scenes the book really wouldn’t make a lot of sense or would at least be a bit weaker for it. The language she uses isn’t cliche or cringey either (there’s no heaving breasts or throbbing body parts) it’s very ‘real’.
This book is a bit like the ones you’re given to read in English literature classes in school, that are rife with meaning and symbolism that you have no idea about until your teacher points it out. I feel there is a strong feminist message in there somewhere, as most of the women in the book are trying to fight a sexual reliance on men. It’s also heavily underlined by the fact that literally all the male characters are weak in one way or another.
To that point I really did not like Theo, the main love interest. He seemed a bit too weak, not as a character but as a person. This is a book with a strong feminist message, so it wouldn’t do to have your heroine overshadowed by a man so that is understandable. (A little side note, a member of my book group bought up the interesting idea that the ‘weakness’ is just an act and he’s psychologically preying on Lucy’s vulnerability)
There are a lot of references to Sappho, which again I feel hints at a feminist message. I’m sorry to say that even though I am aware of Sappho I have barely any knowledge about her. I have now acquired a couple of books from the library to remedy this.
There were some quite strong opinions on this in book group. Whilst I liked the book for it’s style of writing, one of the other ladies liked it for its controversy, but most of the group really didn’t like it at all. The strong feeling against it came, mostly, from the explicit language that was used, whilst one member was so bewildered by the events within the book she was convinced the main character was just on a big drug trip and hallucinating the whole thing.
A couple of us did take something away from the book, I took away a strong interest in the works of Sappho, and one of the other members took away a deeper understanding of a past friend whose behaviour she recognised in some of the characters in the book.
I think we’re going for something a little less controversial next month
Hazel (1853 KP) rated The Wanderers in Books
Dec 17, 2018
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.
“As they look to the stars, what are they missing back home?” </i>In a handful of year’s time, it can be presumed that dreams of humans on Mars will become closer to a reality. In Meg Howey’s <i>The Wanderers</i>, the time has come to select the potential candidates to participate in the first crewed mission to the Red Planet. Yet, as the astronauts prepare to walk among the stars, their families are left to consider a life without them.
The story is told through the perspectives of seven characters. Perhaps the most important are the three astronauts: Helen, Sergei and Yoshi, who are enclosed in a tiny mock-spacecraft, as they practice the hypothetical challenges and experiences they may encounter on a real trip to Mars. The remaining chapters are shared out amongst family members: Mireille, Helen’s adult daughter; Dmitri, Sergei’s fifteen-year old son; and Madoka, Yoshi’s wife – the final character being Luke, a psychiatrist tasked with observing the mental state of the astronauts throughout the experiment.
Interestingly, those being left behind are less concerned about their parent or spouse, choosing to focus on their own, everyday life, problems. Left to their own devices, they worry about their careers, their sexuality and the ways in which others perceive them. All, presumably as a result of the lack of contact with their significant family member, have become capable of surviving independently, however do not appear to realize how lonely they are.
The astronauts, on the other hand, are preoccupied with thoughts of space, concentrating so hard on the mission ahead of them that they fail to think of anything else. However, after months of only having each other for company, their thoughts begin to drift in the direction of home, their childhood, worries about their family, guilt – all notions that are fairly alien to the career driven characters.
Whilst it is interesting to witness the character developments, there is not a significant storyline. The book only encompasses the training period for the prospective space mission, and does not appear to have a substantial conclusion. Whether the astronauts eventually make it to Mars, and whether their consciences encourage them to behave differently towards their families, remains unknown.
<i>The Wanderers</i> has the essence of a work of fiction that English Literature students or professors would enjoy pulling apart, examining the language and literary techniques as they seek the understanding of the various emotions portrayed. Unfortunately, the majority will not have chosen to read this book for this precise purpose, expecting a science fiction novel full of excitement and interesting plot. Without either of these elements taking precedence, many are bound to be disappointed.
My rating for this book (two of five stars) is on the basis of the storyline, rather than the concept of family versus space. Yes, Howey writes well, is informed of the ins and outs of space programmes, and is knowledgeable enough to write an accurate representation of an astronaut’s experience, however as a form of entertainment, it is considerably lacking. Those expecting a narrative similar to other well-written science fiction novels will be sorely disappointed.
“As they look to the stars, what are they missing back home?” </i>In a handful of year’s time, it can be presumed that dreams of humans on Mars will become closer to a reality. In Meg Howey’s <i>The Wanderers</i>, the time has come to select the potential candidates to participate in the first crewed mission to the Red Planet. Yet, as the astronauts prepare to walk among the stars, their families are left to consider a life without them.
The story is told through the perspectives of seven characters. Perhaps the most important are the three astronauts: Helen, Sergei and Yoshi, who are enclosed in a tiny mock-spacecraft, as they practice the hypothetical challenges and experiences they may encounter on a real trip to Mars. The remaining chapters are shared out amongst family members: Mireille, Helen’s adult daughter; Dmitri, Sergei’s fifteen-year old son; and Madoka, Yoshi’s wife – the final character being Luke, a psychiatrist tasked with observing the mental state of the astronauts throughout the experiment.
Interestingly, those being left behind are less concerned about their parent or spouse, choosing to focus on their own, everyday life, problems. Left to their own devices, they worry about their careers, their sexuality and the ways in which others perceive them. All, presumably as a result of the lack of contact with their significant family member, have become capable of surviving independently, however do not appear to realize how lonely they are.
The astronauts, on the other hand, are preoccupied with thoughts of space, concentrating so hard on the mission ahead of them that they fail to think of anything else. However, after months of only having each other for company, their thoughts begin to drift in the direction of home, their childhood, worries about their family, guilt – all notions that are fairly alien to the career driven characters.
Whilst it is interesting to witness the character developments, there is not a significant storyline. The book only encompasses the training period for the prospective space mission, and does not appear to have a substantial conclusion. Whether the astronauts eventually make it to Mars, and whether their consciences encourage them to behave differently towards their families, remains unknown.
<i>The Wanderers</i> has the essence of a work of fiction that English Literature students or professors would enjoy pulling apart, examining the language and literary techniques as they seek the understanding of the various emotions portrayed. Unfortunately, the majority will not have chosen to read this book for this precise purpose, expecting a science fiction novel full of excitement and interesting plot. Without either of these elements taking precedence, many are bound to be disappointed.
My rating for this book (two of five stars) is on the basis of the storyline, rather than the concept of family versus space. Yes, Howey writes well, is informed of the ins and outs of space programmes, and is knowledgeable enough to write an accurate representation of an astronaut’s experience, however as a form of entertainment, it is considerably lacking. Those expecting a narrative similar to other well-written science fiction novels will be sorely disappointed.
Gareth von Kallenbach (971 KP) rated Beowulf (2007) in Movies
Aug 14, 2019
The classic Epic poem Beowulf has come to the big screen in a stunning CGI extravaganza under the direction of Director Robert Zemeckis.
For those not familiar with the poem, it is an ancient Danish poem that talks of the heroic exploits of the hero Beowulf, as he battles all manner of bizarre creatures. The poem was told orally from generation to generation and eventually became known to many as the source of much of the early great literature from the western world.
I first became familiar with the tale some twenty years ago during my early years in private school where our headmaster had it as required reading for all of his students in honors level English.
The film stays very close to the poem and tells the tale of King Hrothgar (Sir Anthony Hopkins), a troubled leader whose kingdom is under siege by a hideous creature known as Grendel (Crispin Glover).
During a brutal attack by Grendel which results in the loss of many lives, King Hrothgar promises half the gold in his kingdom to any hero who can rid the land once and for all of the foul creature that has caused so much suffering.
In short order, the heroic Beowulf (Ray Winstone), arrives with is army of warriors to take up the challenge. Beowulf is legendary for his exploits in vanishing monsters, but his boastful nature raises the concerns of Unferth (John Malkovich), who thinks that Beowulf ‘s reputation and ability is far more style than substance.
Eventually Beowulf battles Grendel, and accomplishes his goal but learns that the monster has a Demonic mother that to must be destroyed in order for peace to truly be achieved.
Beowulf sets off the kill the demon (Angelina Jolie), but finds himself unable to match her whiles, and enters into a deal that has far reaching repercussions.
The second half of the film deals with the consequences of Beowulf’s decisions and how having is not nearly as important as wanting, which leads to a spectacular and FX filled final segment.
The film is amazing, and for those lucky enough to see the film in 3D, filled with amazing visual treats.
While the film is in no way suitable for children due to the violence it contains, the story holds up very well centuries later, and provides a solidly entertaining tale of heroism, betrayal, and morality that stands the test of time.
I had concerns that the film would be a slap-dashed effort that was attempting to cash in on the success of “The 300”, but in actuality, I found this film to be far more entertaining and satisfying.
The voice work of the cast is solid, but it is clearly the visuals that drive this film, as well as the dynamic effects made possible by the latest advancements in 3D technology as the film literally bursts out of the screen.
Beowulf will not be for everyone as those unfamiliar with the work on which it is based may find it derivative or predictable, but when you consider this is literally the tale that started it all, you could make an argument, that it set the table for all future tales to follow.
For those not familiar with the poem, it is an ancient Danish poem that talks of the heroic exploits of the hero Beowulf, as he battles all manner of bizarre creatures. The poem was told orally from generation to generation and eventually became known to many as the source of much of the early great literature from the western world.
I first became familiar with the tale some twenty years ago during my early years in private school where our headmaster had it as required reading for all of his students in honors level English.
The film stays very close to the poem and tells the tale of King Hrothgar (Sir Anthony Hopkins), a troubled leader whose kingdom is under siege by a hideous creature known as Grendel (Crispin Glover).
During a brutal attack by Grendel which results in the loss of many lives, King Hrothgar promises half the gold in his kingdom to any hero who can rid the land once and for all of the foul creature that has caused so much suffering.
In short order, the heroic Beowulf (Ray Winstone), arrives with is army of warriors to take up the challenge. Beowulf is legendary for his exploits in vanishing monsters, but his boastful nature raises the concerns of Unferth (John Malkovich), who thinks that Beowulf ‘s reputation and ability is far more style than substance.
Eventually Beowulf battles Grendel, and accomplishes his goal but learns that the monster has a Demonic mother that to must be destroyed in order for peace to truly be achieved.
Beowulf sets off the kill the demon (Angelina Jolie), but finds himself unable to match her whiles, and enters into a deal that has far reaching repercussions.
The second half of the film deals with the consequences of Beowulf’s decisions and how having is not nearly as important as wanting, which leads to a spectacular and FX filled final segment.
The film is amazing, and for those lucky enough to see the film in 3D, filled with amazing visual treats.
While the film is in no way suitable for children due to the violence it contains, the story holds up very well centuries later, and provides a solidly entertaining tale of heroism, betrayal, and morality that stands the test of time.
I had concerns that the film would be a slap-dashed effort that was attempting to cash in on the success of “The 300”, but in actuality, I found this film to be far more entertaining and satisfying.
The voice work of the cast is solid, but it is clearly the visuals that drive this film, as well as the dynamic effects made possible by the latest advancements in 3D technology as the film literally bursts out of the screen.
Beowulf will not be for everyone as those unfamiliar with the work on which it is based may find it derivative or predictable, but when you consider this is literally the tale that started it all, you could make an argument, that it set the table for all future tales to follow.
Kristy H (1252 KP) rated My Dark Vanessa in Books
Mar 19, 2020
At fifteen, the very bright Vanessa Wye earns a scholarship position to boarding school. It's the year 2000. There she meets Jacob Strane, her English teacher, who is forty-two-years-old. Soon the two are involved in a powerful relationship--and one that quickly turns sexual. Seventeen years later, Vanessa is working as a concierge at a hotel, just another in a series of dead-end jobs. She hasn't had any real serious relationships. And now, Jacob Strane, has been accused of sexual abuse by a former student, Taylor Birch. Taylor tracks down Vanessa, wanting her to share her story, too. But Vanessa doesn't feel she was abused by Strane. In fact, her entire life is framed by her love story with Strane. As Taylor Birch's story gains traction in the press, Vanessa must confront her past and what it means to her.
"'I'm going to ruin you.' He says it with obvious torment, a glimpse into how much he's thought about it, wrestled with it."
This book...wow. I was absolutely captivated by Vanessa's story. She tells her tale in two parts: her adolescence, as she meets Jacob Strane at school and they begin their relationship; and then the present, as Taylor Birch's story hits the press and Vanessa must deal with the fact that her love for Jacob Strane is being portrayed as abuse and assault.
"It's strange to know that whenever I remember myself at fifteen, I'll think of this."
For a book with such dark subject matter, it's really beautiful. Russell is a wonderful writer, and this story unfolds almost lyrically. It's so well-done and completely mesmerizing. The sections featuring young Vanessa capture that early adolescent yearning and longing so perfectly--that deep desire to feel needed and wanted. To Vanessa, this is a love story, a romantic tale of a man needing and loving her. She blocks out and overlooks the parts of the story that don't fit. Understanding that some victims don't see abuse as abuse is key to the story, and Russell portrays the dynamic between Strane and Vanessa so well.
"'It's just my luck,' he said, 'that when I finally find my soul mate, she's fifteen years old.'"
As a result, we get a very thoughtful look at abuse, rape, and assault. And, yes, the sections of older Vanessa's story touch across the #metoo movement, as Taylor Birch and others want so desperately for Vanessa to join their side, to share her story. For them or for Vanessa, it's hard to say. This book is so dark, yet so insightful. Vanessa's inner struggle--basically she's having to re-look at the entire foundation upon which her life is built--is one of the most profoundly written and moving journeys I've seen in literature in quite some time. It's not easy to read about, certainly, and it's not always easy to understand her actions, of course. The story can make you uncomfortable; it can feel problematic. But it's an important read, and it's so beautifully and poetically written. I highly recommend it (taking into account the obvious trigger warnings, of course). 4.5+ stars.
"'I'm going to ruin you.' He says it with obvious torment, a glimpse into how much he's thought about it, wrestled with it."
This book...wow. I was absolutely captivated by Vanessa's story. She tells her tale in two parts: her adolescence, as she meets Jacob Strane at school and they begin their relationship; and then the present, as Taylor Birch's story hits the press and Vanessa must deal with the fact that her love for Jacob Strane is being portrayed as abuse and assault.
"It's strange to know that whenever I remember myself at fifteen, I'll think of this."
For a book with such dark subject matter, it's really beautiful. Russell is a wonderful writer, and this story unfolds almost lyrically. It's so well-done and completely mesmerizing. The sections featuring young Vanessa capture that early adolescent yearning and longing so perfectly--that deep desire to feel needed and wanted. To Vanessa, this is a love story, a romantic tale of a man needing and loving her. She blocks out and overlooks the parts of the story that don't fit. Understanding that some victims don't see abuse as abuse is key to the story, and Russell portrays the dynamic between Strane and Vanessa so well.
"'It's just my luck,' he said, 'that when I finally find my soul mate, she's fifteen years old.'"
As a result, we get a very thoughtful look at abuse, rape, and assault. And, yes, the sections of older Vanessa's story touch across the #metoo movement, as Taylor Birch and others want so desperately for Vanessa to join their side, to share her story. For them or for Vanessa, it's hard to say. This book is so dark, yet so insightful. Vanessa's inner struggle--basically she's having to re-look at the entire foundation upon which her life is built--is one of the most profoundly written and moving journeys I've seen in literature in quite some time. It's not easy to read about, certainly, and it's not always easy to understand her actions, of course. The story can make you uncomfortable; it can feel problematic. But it's an important read, and it's so beautifully and poetically written. I highly recommend it (taking into account the obvious trigger warnings, of course). 4.5+ stars.
Heather Cranmer (2721 KP) rated On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 in Books
May 6, 2019
A Well Written and Interesting Historical Fiction Novel
I'm a fan of books written in verse. There's just something special about them that calls out to me. When I first heard about On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 by Dede Fox, the synopsis intrigued me. When I heard that it was written in verse, it was then that I knew I had to read this book. I ended up loving this book.
I will admit that I had never heard of the Tlatelolco Massacre before I read On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68. The plot does a fantastic job of explaining the massacre to those who know nothing about it. It was also interesting to read about Diana's time in Mexico as an American university student. Everything is told through Diana's perspective. This book made me want to research more about the Tlatelolco Massacre that the Mexican government tried to keep hushed up.
The prose in On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 was done beautifully and perfectly. Every word elicited all kinds of feelings whilst reading this book. Because this novel was written in verse, it really drove those feelings home and made them feel more realistic. I think I experienced a total spectrum of feelings while reading On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68. Some readers may have a little trouble with some of the Spanish in this book, but there are enough context clues to figure out what is being said.
I really cared and felt for Diana, the main character in On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68. Diana was such an authentic and fleshed out character which can sometimes be a challenge in books written in verse. Dede Fox made character writing appear easy! My heart felt so full while Diana was falling in love with Guillermo. I felt as if I was falling in love at the same time. When Guillermo went missing while on the phone with Diana, I felt such panic. Her search for her boyfriend felt as if it was my search. I was worried for Guillermo as if he was a real person instead of a fictional character. (Sadly, as this book is based on an actual historical event, I imagine that feeling was all too real for many people.) I lived in hope Guillermo would turn up at some point. I'll just leave it at that because you'll have to read the book in order to find out Guillermo's fate. Diana was such a strong female character as well. I really admired her. Natalie and Melinda, Diana's roommates, were likable characters, but we don't get much of a backstory on them. I feel as if this was done on purpose so the reader could really focus more on Diana's story.
The pacing was done fantastically! I devoured this book in one sitting. I couldn't get enough. Each word flowed beautifully into the next, and I was left captivated and hungry for more of the story.
Trigger warnings for On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 include attempted rape, sexual assault, violence (although not graphic), drinking, some minor profanities in English and Spanish, and political corruption.
Overall, On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 is a beautifully written piece of literature that will leave its reader with a plethora of feelings as well as a history lesson. I would definitely recommend On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 by Dede Fox to everyone 16+.
--
(Thanks to the Dede Fox for providing me with a paperback of On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.)
I will admit that I had never heard of the Tlatelolco Massacre before I read On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68. The plot does a fantastic job of explaining the massacre to those who know nothing about it. It was also interesting to read about Diana's time in Mexico as an American university student. Everything is told through Diana's perspective. This book made me want to research more about the Tlatelolco Massacre that the Mexican government tried to keep hushed up.
The prose in On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 was done beautifully and perfectly. Every word elicited all kinds of feelings whilst reading this book. Because this novel was written in verse, it really drove those feelings home and made them feel more realistic. I think I experienced a total spectrum of feelings while reading On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68. Some readers may have a little trouble with some of the Spanish in this book, but there are enough context clues to figure out what is being said.
I really cared and felt for Diana, the main character in On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68. Diana was such an authentic and fleshed out character which can sometimes be a challenge in books written in verse. Dede Fox made character writing appear easy! My heart felt so full while Diana was falling in love with Guillermo. I felt as if I was falling in love at the same time. When Guillermo went missing while on the phone with Diana, I felt such panic. Her search for her boyfriend felt as if it was my search. I was worried for Guillermo as if he was a real person instead of a fictional character. (Sadly, as this book is based on an actual historical event, I imagine that feeling was all too real for many people.) I lived in hope Guillermo would turn up at some point. I'll just leave it at that because you'll have to read the book in order to find out Guillermo's fate. Diana was such a strong female character as well. I really admired her. Natalie and Melinda, Diana's roommates, were likable characters, but we don't get much of a backstory on them. I feel as if this was done on purpose so the reader could really focus more on Diana's story.
The pacing was done fantastically! I devoured this book in one sitting. I couldn't get enough. Each word flowed beautifully into the next, and I was left captivated and hungry for more of the story.
Trigger warnings for On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 include attempted rape, sexual assault, violence (although not graphic), drinking, some minor profanities in English and Spanish, and political corruption.
Overall, On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 is a beautifully written piece of literature that will leave its reader with a plethora of feelings as well as a history lesson. I would definitely recommend On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 by Dede Fox to everyone 16+.
--
(Thanks to the Dede Fox for providing me with a paperback of On Wings of Silence: Mexico '68 in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.)
Acanthea Grimscythe (300 KP) rated Let the Right One In in Books
May 16, 2018
Several years ago, I had the pleasure (I think?) of watching the American remake of the film, Let the Right One In, which was titled Let Me In. I don’t remember any of it -only that I had found it interesting at the time. Undoubtedly, it had something to do with the fact that, during those years, I had an obsession with vampires. In fact, I gobbled up the Twilight books around then, and yes I am ashamed to admit that. Let the Right One In never crossed my mind again after that, until I received a box of books for free and found a copy of the Thomas Dunne Books translation inside it. Remembering the movie vaguely, and knowing the original version is among my boyfriend’s favorite films, I decided to give it a read and, once again, I am not in the least bit disappointed. I’m not sure if it’s a difference in what Americans find to be taboo in comparison to Swedish folk or what, but between John Ajvide Lindqvist and Stieg Larsson, I think I’m ready to delve deeper into Scandinavian novels!
Lindqvist has created for readers a completely deplorable cast of characters, ranging from Eli, the child, to her caretaker, Håkan Bengtsson. These characters aren’t hate-worthy in the same manner as Gone Girl‘s Amy Dunne, but rather in the way that they simply are. I won’t go too much into the details behind why I find the cast of this book to be unsavory, because I feel that just about anything I could say about the characters would, in one form or another, spoil the book; these characters and their flaws, which are bountiful, provide the book with so many unexpected twists and turns that just about anything that could be said might reveal something vital to the plot. Except for my favorite character, which, oddly enough, is Gösta. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that, like Gösta, I adore cats and it is extremely difficult for me to not want to take a stray in. (My boyfriend and I have too many, and I love them more than the entire world!)
The plot takes place over the course of about three weeks, beginning near the last week of October and ending on Friday, November 13. For a book of about five-hundred pages, that’s quite a few days to cover and often, that expanse of time, when it is written as detailed as Lindqvist has penned it, can seem like it simply drags on – that is not the case here. As I read, it felt more like a few days than several weeks, largely because the plot is fast paced and constantly moving. Because there isn’t a lot of exposition, there isn’t really much to slow the story down. Told from alternating perspectives, readers are given several different points of view of what’s going on, and from there it is relatively easy to come to your own conclusions regarding the story’s events as well as the behaviors of the various characters. Those I loathed, others might feel pity for, and vice versa.
Let the Right One In is a vampire novel, as I’ve alluded to earlier in this review; however, Lindqvist does not approach the idea of vampires in the same method that many books do presently. These are not romanticized vampires, but rather monsters. Horrible, bloodthirsty creatures that will rip out your throat, not sparkle – that’s what Lindqvist’s vampires are. This fact alone scores extra points with me, because I prefer vampires as the terrors they are meant to be, rather than the glorified, dark lovers that plague most contemporary literature.
My only gripe with this translation of Let the Right One In deals largely with its flow. While the story itself is excellent and the characters dynamic, the translation seemed to be a bit on the rough side. I do not speak Swedish. If I did, I wouldn’t have a use for the translated version of the story. That said, I know absolutely nothing of the language. Given that my major is in Creative Writing and that I have taken Linguistic courses, I do know that some languages have no tense – at least, not in the way that those of us that speak English view it. That said, there are many times in the translation that I was reading where the tense seemed to switch randomly, and I do not know if this was intentional or not. It was not an issue that I encountered while reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo though, so it’s a bit hard for me to be forgiving about it.
This book was definitely worth the read, and I’m hoping that I’ll get a chance to watch the original film adaptation in the future – my boyfriend might have it, actually. I should check!
Lindqvist has created for readers a completely deplorable cast of characters, ranging from Eli, the child, to her caretaker, Håkan Bengtsson. These characters aren’t hate-worthy in the same manner as Gone Girl‘s Amy Dunne, but rather in the way that they simply are. I won’t go too much into the details behind why I find the cast of this book to be unsavory, because I feel that just about anything I could say about the characters would, in one form or another, spoil the book; these characters and their flaws, which are bountiful, provide the book with so many unexpected twists and turns that just about anything that could be said might reveal something vital to the plot. Except for my favorite character, which, oddly enough, is Gösta. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that, like Gösta, I adore cats and it is extremely difficult for me to not want to take a stray in. (My boyfriend and I have too many, and I love them more than the entire world!)
The plot takes place over the course of about three weeks, beginning near the last week of October and ending on Friday, November 13. For a book of about five-hundred pages, that’s quite a few days to cover and often, that expanse of time, when it is written as detailed as Lindqvist has penned it, can seem like it simply drags on – that is not the case here. As I read, it felt more like a few days than several weeks, largely because the plot is fast paced and constantly moving. Because there isn’t a lot of exposition, there isn’t really much to slow the story down. Told from alternating perspectives, readers are given several different points of view of what’s going on, and from there it is relatively easy to come to your own conclusions regarding the story’s events as well as the behaviors of the various characters. Those I loathed, others might feel pity for, and vice versa.
Let the Right One In is a vampire novel, as I’ve alluded to earlier in this review; however, Lindqvist does not approach the idea of vampires in the same method that many books do presently. These are not romanticized vampires, but rather monsters. Horrible, bloodthirsty creatures that will rip out your throat, not sparkle – that’s what Lindqvist’s vampires are. This fact alone scores extra points with me, because I prefer vampires as the terrors they are meant to be, rather than the glorified, dark lovers that plague most contemporary literature.
My only gripe with this translation of Let the Right One In deals largely with its flow. While the story itself is excellent and the characters dynamic, the translation seemed to be a bit on the rough side. I do not speak Swedish. If I did, I wouldn’t have a use for the translated version of the story. That said, I know absolutely nothing of the language. Given that my major is in Creative Writing and that I have taken Linguistic courses, I do know that some languages have no tense – at least, not in the way that those of us that speak English view it. That said, there are many times in the translation that I was reading where the tense seemed to switch randomly, and I do not know if this was intentional or not. It was not an issue that I encountered while reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo though, so it’s a bit hard for me to be forgiving about it.
This book was definitely worth the read, and I’m hoping that I’ll get a chance to watch the original film adaptation in the future – my boyfriend might have it, actually. I should check!