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Connor Sheffield (293 KP) rated The Crow (1994) in Movies
Apr 19, 2017
Close to the source material (2 more)
Great Cast
A powerful and emotional film
A Powerful Classic
The Crow is one of my all time favourite films as well as one of my all time favourite graphic novels.
This Gothic, fantasy action film has a tragic story that's powerful to behold as we witness what the power of revenge can do to a person. However, this isn't your typical revenge plot, because SPOILERS!
Eric Draven, portrayed by the incredible Brandon Lee (son of Bruce Lee), is actual brought back from the dead as an avenging angel, after he and his fiance were murdered by a group of thugs on Devils Night (the night before Halloween).
If you've read the graphic novel you'll know just how great this film is, and the only downside to it is knowing it was Brandon Lee's last after an accident that happened on set.
However, the film sticks close to the source material, especially since James O'Barr, the creator of the characters and the graphic novel worked closely with the cast and crew of the film to ensure it was done correctly.
The tone of the film is, for obvious reasons, dark but there is still humour in it which lightens the mood and gives you a sense of Eric Draven's mind because let's face it, coming back from the dead with the ability to heal any wound, and the opportunity to get revenge on those who wronged you, it's enough to send a sensible man insane, and we see that shine through Brandon Lee performance with jokes and laughter, whilst still remaining eerily dark and twisted. When the bad guys realise he heals any wounds and can't die...You can see how much Eric enjoys seeing the fear grow in their faces, and as the strong unfolds we learn that the group of thugs who committed the crime, were just pawns to a bigger villain leading a crime syndicate in the city.
We see emotion as Eric tries to find out the truth of what really happened that night, and why he and his fiance lost their lives, and we see him trying to connect to his past through Sarah, a young girl that he and his fiance looked after and cared for. We also see the truth unfold through Officer Albrecht who was in charge of the investigation.
The characters are all brilliantly written, from Sarah's childhood innocence becoming a more mature sense of realising that the world can't always be a happy place, to Eric's lust for revenger and being sidetracked by emotions of his former life, trying to remain a good person whilst committing these acts of murder for revenge.
The music in the film really fits the scenes and the feel of the entire story with bands like The Cure, Pantera, Rage Against The Machine and Stone Temple Pilots among others, its soundtrack is brilliantly dark.
Also the main aspect that you have to love is Brandon Lee in the crow makeup and clothing. He looks menacing, he looks like he has a lust for revenge, most importantly he looks badass! One of the greatest comic book characters in film that I have ever seen, and whilst I was a little wary of the talks to remake this film in 2016/2017, I would be curious to see the character brought to life again and given a fresh look but I don't know if anyone can beat Brandon Lee in that portrayal because he looks incredible.
This film is dark, powerful, moving and poetic and will remain one of my top 5 films of all time. Maybe even top 3.
I highly recommend this film to anyone who enjoys a comic book movie, especially if you like movies with action and drama with a Gothic overtone.
R.I.P Brandon Lee (1965-1993)
This Gothic, fantasy action film has a tragic story that's powerful to behold as we witness what the power of revenge can do to a person. However, this isn't your typical revenge plot, because SPOILERS!
Eric Draven, portrayed by the incredible Brandon Lee (son of Bruce Lee), is actual brought back from the dead as an avenging angel, after he and his fiance were murdered by a group of thugs on Devils Night (the night before Halloween).
If you've read the graphic novel you'll know just how great this film is, and the only downside to it is knowing it was Brandon Lee's last after an accident that happened on set.
However, the film sticks close to the source material, especially since James O'Barr, the creator of the characters and the graphic novel worked closely with the cast and crew of the film to ensure it was done correctly.
The tone of the film is, for obvious reasons, dark but there is still humour in it which lightens the mood and gives you a sense of Eric Draven's mind because let's face it, coming back from the dead with the ability to heal any wound, and the opportunity to get revenge on those who wronged you, it's enough to send a sensible man insane, and we see that shine through Brandon Lee performance with jokes and laughter, whilst still remaining eerily dark and twisted. When the bad guys realise he heals any wounds and can't die...You can see how much Eric enjoys seeing the fear grow in their faces, and as the strong unfolds we learn that the group of thugs who committed the crime, were just pawns to a bigger villain leading a crime syndicate in the city.
We see emotion as Eric tries to find out the truth of what really happened that night, and why he and his fiance lost their lives, and we see him trying to connect to his past through Sarah, a young girl that he and his fiance looked after and cared for. We also see the truth unfold through Officer Albrecht who was in charge of the investigation.
The characters are all brilliantly written, from Sarah's childhood innocence becoming a more mature sense of realising that the world can't always be a happy place, to Eric's lust for revenger and being sidetracked by emotions of his former life, trying to remain a good person whilst committing these acts of murder for revenge.
The music in the film really fits the scenes and the feel of the entire story with bands like The Cure, Pantera, Rage Against The Machine and Stone Temple Pilots among others, its soundtrack is brilliantly dark.
Also the main aspect that you have to love is Brandon Lee in the crow makeup and clothing. He looks menacing, he looks like he has a lust for revenge, most importantly he looks badass! One of the greatest comic book characters in film that I have ever seen, and whilst I was a little wary of the talks to remake this film in 2016/2017, I would be curious to see the character brought to life again and given a fresh look but I don't know if anyone can beat Brandon Lee in that portrayal because he looks incredible.
This film is dark, powerful, moving and poetic and will remain one of my top 5 films of all time. Maybe even top 3.
I highly recommend this film to anyone who enjoys a comic book movie, especially if you like movies with action and drama with a Gothic overtone.
R.I.P Brandon Lee (1965-1993)
Haley Mathiot (9 KP) rated It's Not Summer Without You (Summer, #2) in Books
Apr 27, 2018
Everything changed after Susannah died. Her two sons, both of whom Belly loves in different ways, have changed. Jeremiah is older. Conrad is empty. Belly's mother is different. And Belly is different, too. After her painful break-up with Conrad, she isn't expecting to enjoy summer, she just wants to get through it. But when Jeremiah calls her and tells her that Conrad has vanished from summer school, she goes with him to find him… and try to make things write. But Conrad has his own agenda, and his own idea of what is right. Belly has to decide if she's willing to let her heart get torn and healed by Conrad's ever-changing emotions in relation to her—as changing as the sea at her summer house—or if she's ready to let go.
After having just finished It's Not Summer Without You, I'm not sure if I feel like smiling, or if I feel smug, or if I want to kill Conrad—or at least hit him—or maybe I want to kill Jeremiah, or maybe I want to cry. I think I feel like Belly. I feel sorry for her, that's for sure.
It's Not Summer Without You is beautiful in a painful kind of way. I loved the way the story was woven, but I'm not sure I liked the way it turned out. It's the kind of story that starts looking scary, because you know that in the end everyone is going to get hurt, and that someone is going to have to choose between two good things, and you'll never be completely satisfied with the choice. But then, maybe that's the way it is in the real world. That's what makes this story good: it's real.
I read it in one sitting, on the same day I got it, and I couldn't put it down. Just like The Summer I Turned Pretty, the main aspect of the book is the characters. They are what keep you reading, they are what makes you care about the book. I care about Belly, I care about Conrad, I care about Jeremiah. I just don't care about them in the same ways I used to.
The writing felt smooth, poetic, and lyric, but the entire book had a negative energy to it. It felt depressing to read. I don't feel like I just read a summer romance, I feel like I just read a sad book and I need a light summer romance to cheer me up. That's not to say I didn't like it, but it was rather depressing to read.
The whole thing, from start to finish, felt like a lost cause with a possible hopeful end—meaning Belly and Conrad would never be together again, everything is falling apart after Susannah's death, and nothing will ever be good again…unless, unless, unless—and I'm not quite sure if it had that end. It wasn't enough of an ending for me. There wasn't enough closure between the characters, I'm still not exactly sure what happened and where everyone stands, and the epilogue wasn't enough to decode what was being said. Hopefully, more was added to the epilogue in the finished copy of the book. That's the only reason I gave it four stars and not five: I didn't enjoy it enough. It was good, it was just hard to read and hard to enjoy.
All in all, I did like it, I liked most of what happened, and I liked how real it was. It's Not Summer Without You evokes real emotions because it plays out in the real world.
Content: Some language
Recommendation: Ages 16+
After having just finished It's Not Summer Without You, I'm not sure if I feel like smiling, or if I feel smug, or if I want to kill Conrad—or at least hit him—or maybe I want to kill Jeremiah, or maybe I want to cry. I think I feel like Belly. I feel sorry for her, that's for sure.
It's Not Summer Without You is beautiful in a painful kind of way. I loved the way the story was woven, but I'm not sure I liked the way it turned out. It's the kind of story that starts looking scary, because you know that in the end everyone is going to get hurt, and that someone is going to have to choose between two good things, and you'll never be completely satisfied with the choice. But then, maybe that's the way it is in the real world. That's what makes this story good: it's real.
I read it in one sitting, on the same day I got it, and I couldn't put it down. Just like The Summer I Turned Pretty, the main aspect of the book is the characters. They are what keep you reading, they are what makes you care about the book. I care about Belly, I care about Conrad, I care about Jeremiah. I just don't care about them in the same ways I used to.
The writing felt smooth, poetic, and lyric, but the entire book had a negative energy to it. It felt depressing to read. I don't feel like I just read a summer romance, I feel like I just read a sad book and I need a light summer romance to cheer me up. That's not to say I didn't like it, but it was rather depressing to read.
The whole thing, from start to finish, felt like a lost cause with a possible hopeful end—meaning Belly and Conrad would never be together again, everything is falling apart after Susannah's death, and nothing will ever be good again…unless, unless, unless—and I'm not quite sure if it had that end. It wasn't enough of an ending for me. There wasn't enough closure between the characters, I'm still not exactly sure what happened and where everyone stands, and the epilogue wasn't enough to decode what was being said. Hopefully, more was added to the epilogue in the finished copy of the book. That's the only reason I gave it four stars and not five: I didn't enjoy it enough. It was good, it was just hard to read and hard to enjoy.
All in all, I did like it, I liked most of what happened, and I liked how real it was. It's Not Summer Without You evokes real emotions because it plays out in the real world.
Content: Some language
Recommendation: Ages 16+
Haley Mathiot (9 KP) rated A Distant Melody (Wings of Glory, #1) in Books
Apr 27, 2018
Allie has never been able to please her parents, so she’ll do anything to make them happy, even if it means marrying a man she doesn’t love. But when she goes to visit her best friend for her wedding, she meets Walter Novak, flyer in the Air Force, and her heart begins to open to him. Allie and Walter write letters while he’s oversees, and Allie tries to anticipate her wedding with her promised fiancé, but as she gets to know Baxter more and more, she begins to have doubts about God’s will for her life—obey and honor her parents and marry a non-Christian in hopes of leading him to Christ, or disobey her parents and refuse to be “unevenly yoked?” And the fact that she’s falling in love with Walt isn’t helping things any.
I adored A Distant Melody. From the second I opened it, it captured my imagination and swept me away.
The plot seemed simple at first, but it kept taking little twists and turns that I didn’t expect. It was suspenseful, but not in a thriller kind of way. There were times when Walt was flying that were very exciting and thrilling, but it wasn’t enough to put it in that genre. It had just enough. The pacing itself was perfect—nothing felt rushed. I hate a rushed romance, it’s implausible. A Distant Melody is the perfect speed. I devoured it within a few hours.
I love these characters! I want more with them!!! One awesome aspect about A Distant Melody is it is not a victim of “happy-land syndrome,” or “perfect plot” syndrome. The story didn’t seem to work out just perfect with everyone happy all the time, and everyone talking about God all the time, and everyone acting like perfect Christians all the time. No, they were real people who sinned and suffered the consequences, both from other people and from their guilt and grief. There were times and parts where you say “Oh no! Now he’s going to think this!” or “Oh no she hasn’t gotten his letter yet!” and so on. However, their confessions of said sins were also such a key part of the story, and made you love them so much more.
I liked the writing a lot. Sundin has a clear concise way with words, and paints a picture without being poetic. I also loved her wit and humor, and those Sarah-Dessen-like running jokes. You have to love those running jokes that run through the whole book, that make you feel like you’re part of the character’s life.
I know I usually don’t say anything about the cover because generally I don’t care about the cover. In this case, the cover is perfect. It has every detail mentioned in the book, from the right clothing and hairstyles of the characters to the detail work on the air plane.
A very important thing about a Christian novel is it shouldn't feel like it’s preaching at you. There was prayer, Bible verses, hymns and such. But it didn’t feel cheesy and fake: partially because of the characters (as I mentioned above) and partially because although they were mentioned and discussed, they weren’t hammered. Basically, this was not Sundin’s way of publishing a theology book. It’s a novel, and it feels like one.
I think I loved everything about this book. I loved the characters, I loved the writing, I loved the plot and the pacing, I loved the jokes, I even love the cover. I can’t think of one thing that I didn’t like, or that distracted me from the story. I devoured A Distant Melody, thoroughly enjoyed every part of it, and I cannot wait for the next book.
I adored A Distant Melody. From the second I opened it, it captured my imagination and swept me away.
The plot seemed simple at first, but it kept taking little twists and turns that I didn’t expect. It was suspenseful, but not in a thriller kind of way. There were times when Walt was flying that were very exciting and thrilling, but it wasn’t enough to put it in that genre. It had just enough. The pacing itself was perfect—nothing felt rushed. I hate a rushed romance, it’s implausible. A Distant Melody is the perfect speed. I devoured it within a few hours.
I love these characters! I want more with them!!! One awesome aspect about A Distant Melody is it is not a victim of “happy-land syndrome,” or “perfect plot” syndrome. The story didn’t seem to work out just perfect with everyone happy all the time, and everyone talking about God all the time, and everyone acting like perfect Christians all the time. No, they were real people who sinned and suffered the consequences, both from other people and from their guilt and grief. There were times and parts where you say “Oh no! Now he’s going to think this!” or “Oh no she hasn’t gotten his letter yet!” and so on. However, their confessions of said sins were also such a key part of the story, and made you love them so much more.
I liked the writing a lot. Sundin has a clear concise way with words, and paints a picture without being poetic. I also loved her wit and humor, and those Sarah-Dessen-like running jokes. You have to love those running jokes that run through the whole book, that make you feel like you’re part of the character’s life.
I know I usually don’t say anything about the cover because generally I don’t care about the cover. In this case, the cover is perfect. It has every detail mentioned in the book, from the right clothing and hairstyles of the characters to the detail work on the air plane.
A very important thing about a Christian novel is it shouldn't feel like it’s preaching at you. There was prayer, Bible verses, hymns and such. But it didn’t feel cheesy and fake: partially because of the characters (as I mentioned above) and partially because although they were mentioned and discussed, they weren’t hammered. Basically, this was not Sundin’s way of publishing a theology book. It’s a novel, and it feels like one.
I think I loved everything about this book. I loved the characters, I loved the writing, I loved the plot and the pacing, I loved the jokes, I even love the cover. I can’t think of one thing that I didn’t like, or that distracted me from the story. I devoured A Distant Melody, thoroughly enjoyed every part of it, and I cannot wait for the next book.
Kristy H (1252 KP) rated Small Great Things in Books
Feb 1, 2018
Ruth Jefferson is a successful labor and delivery nurse with over twenty years of experience. She has a nice home and a college-bound seventeen-year-old son, Edison. She also happens to be African American. When Ruth takes over for a colleague at shift change, she is simply doing a checkup on newborn baby boy Davis. But after his checkup, she's told Davis' parents don't want her touching their child. A post-it note in his file states that no African American staff should be touching the patient. Ruth is shocked-- and angry. The next day, when Davis has a medical emergency, Ruth is faced with a choice. Does she help the baby--defying the order of the parents and her supervisor? Ruth's decision leads her on a path that involves the police and being charged with a serious crime. Police come into her home, handcuffing her and her son. Her public defender, Kennedy McQuarrie, recommends that Ruth's defense not involve race: a lightning rod for juries, she says. But Ruth is angry and humiliated and wants to clear her name, at whatever the cost.
This is a touching and powerful novel. Told from the varying points of view of Ruth, Kennedy, and Turk--baby Davis' father-- it is a compelling look at how race and family history shapes the person we become. It is a poignant story at points: it is amazing what people can rationalize when it comes to hatred. I found the novel very fitting right now, with what's going on in the U.S. Honestly, it's very frightening at times and hits a little too close to home.
Picoult's characters are well-formed and dynamic, and you find yourself drawn into parts of each.
Turk, obviously, despite the loss of his child, is not a sympathetic character, but he is a complex one; his progression over the course of the novel is intriguing, and it's amazing how Picoult did not make him a one dimensional white supremacist. The book is extremely well-researched; both from the side of white supremacy, as well as racism and the medical aspects of Davis' case. Kennedy is likeable and her struggle with Ruth's case, as she realizes the depth of both the visible and latent racism her client faces on a daily basis, is real and relatable. I applaud Picoult for tackling such a difficult subject with such honesty. It's almost as if, through Kennedy, she's admitting exactly what she doesn't know. (I highly recommend reading Picoult's afterword, as well.)
For me, the hardest parts of the book was that it gets a little too poetic in the Jodi Picoult way (those who frequently read her novels will identify), with her waxing on about race and parents and being brought together, versus letting the story tell itself. At points the book just goes on and on a bit, versus getting to the story and the point. There are lots of little subplots that go off, detracting at times from the main story and frustrating the reader. And, of course, there are some weird twists and plot points in the typical Picoult style, though they don't seem to pack the punch of her older novels. It all wraps up a little too smoothly, though I have to confess I sort of enjoyed the ending. It may have been a bit trite, but I am often a sucker for such things.
Overall, I was impressed with how Picoult approached this novel, and I enjoyed the storyline for the most part (I was certainly invested), though it dawdled at times and ended a bit too easily. I'd rate this a strong 3.5 - 3.75 stars. Certainly worth reading, especially if you're a Picoult fan.
I received a copy of this novel from the publisher and Netgalley; is available everywhere as of 10/11/2016.
This is a touching and powerful novel. Told from the varying points of view of Ruth, Kennedy, and Turk--baby Davis' father-- it is a compelling look at how race and family history shapes the person we become. It is a poignant story at points: it is amazing what people can rationalize when it comes to hatred. I found the novel very fitting right now, with what's going on in the U.S. Honestly, it's very frightening at times and hits a little too close to home.
Picoult's characters are well-formed and dynamic, and you find yourself drawn into parts of each.
Turk, obviously, despite the loss of his child, is not a sympathetic character, but he is a complex one; his progression over the course of the novel is intriguing, and it's amazing how Picoult did not make him a one dimensional white supremacist. The book is extremely well-researched; both from the side of white supremacy, as well as racism and the medical aspects of Davis' case. Kennedy is likeable and her struggle with Ruth's case, as she realizes the depth of both the visible and latent racism her client faces on a daily basis, is real and relatable. I applaud Picoult for tackling such a difficult subject with such honesty. It's almost as if, through Kennedy, she's admitting exactly what she doesn't know. (I highly recommend reading Picoult's afterword, as well.)
For me, the hardest parts of the book was that it gets a little too poetic in the Jodi Picoult way (those who frequently read her novels will identify), with her waxing on about race and parents and being brought together, versus letting the story tell itself. At points the book just goes on and on a bit, versus getting to the story and the point. There are lots of little subplots that go off, detracting at times from the main story and frustrating the reader. And, of course, there are some weird twists and plot points in the typical Picoult style, though they don't seem to pack the punch of her older novels. It all wraps up a little too smoothly, though I have to confess I sort of enjoyed the ending. It may have been a bit trite, but I am often a sucker for such things.
Overall, I was impressed with how Picoult approached this novel, and I enjoyed the storyline for the most part (I was certainly invested), though it dawdled at times and ended a bit too easily. I'd rate this a strong 3.5 - 3.75 stars. Certainly worth reading, especially if you're a Picoult fan.
I received a copy of this novel from the publisher and Netgalley; is available everywhere as of 10/11/2016.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated The Inexplicable Logic of My Life in Books
Dec 7, 2018
<i>This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review </i>
Over the past couple of years, social media, particularly Tumblr, has been raving over Benjamin Alire Sáenz’s multi-award winning novel, <i>Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe</i>. As a result, I have wanted to read this book to see what the fuss is about. Unfortunately, libraries and bookstores in the UK do not appear to stock any of Sáenz’s novels.
When I saw an ARC of <i>The Inexplicable Logic of My Life</i> was available for request on NetGalley, I took the risk, having not read any of Sáenz’s work, and requested a copy. And I am truly glad I did. What, from the blurb and book cover, could result in a mundane Young Adult novel, turned out to be a thing of true beauty. The prose is almost poetic and full of emotion; it not only tells the story, it makes you feel it too.
The narrator, Salvador “Sal”, is beginning his final year at El Paso High School with his best friend Sam. Normally, the first day of school is something he looks forward to, however he feels differently this year. Something within Sal has changed, something indescribable but there all the same. Something that makes punching someone in the face an automatic reaction.
Sal’s dad is gay. Although not his real dad, Vicente adopted Sal into his extended Mexican American family after the death of his mother when he was three years old. He could not have asked for a better parent, but something is niggling in the back of his mind: who is his birth father?
Whilst Sal soliloquizes about his feelings, the reader is introduced to best friend Sam – a girl who, despite an erudite vocabulary, is not afraid to cuss and swear. Sam also understands what it is like to not truly know who you are, as does Fito, another friend, with terrible relations. Tragic events pull the three together, giving them a new chance at being part of a family despite not being blood related.
Sal, Sam and Fito try to help each other through their problems, ruminating together over their pasts and contemplating the unpredictable future. Despite each character suffering from grief, their friendship gives them a purpose and the encouragement to carry on.
<i>The Inexplicable Logic of My Life</i> covers so many themes it is impossible to categorize. Sam, Fito and Vicente are all encumbered with something that could ostracize them from society – their sexuality, race, drug addict parents – but they never let this get in their way. Sal, on the other hand, struggles somewhat, believing he no longer knows who he really is. He questions everything: how does he fit into the world around him? What right does he have to graduate and go to college?
With great efficacy, Sáenz explains through Sal’s voice, the importance of believing in yourself, letting yourself be loved, and accepting things for what they really are. All the main characters are trying so hard to belong; they do not realize that they always have belonged.
<i>The Inexplicable Logic of My Life</i> is a story of grief, death, family, friendship, fathers and words; a graceful, almost lyrical, narrative that gets to the heart of human existence and uplifts the spirit. The expressive language has a great emotional impact on the reader – have your tissues at the ready – and resonates within the soul. With quotable lines that you will wish you had written yourself, I guarantee you will love this book.
Over the past couple of years, social media, particularly Tumblr, has been raving over Benjamin Alire Sáenz’s multi-award winning novel, <i>Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe</i>. As a result, I have wanted to read this book to see what the fuss is about. Unfortunately, libraries and bookstores in the UK do not appear to stock any of Sáenz’s novels.
When I saw an ARC of <i>The Inexplicable Logic of My Life</i> was available for request on NetGalley, I took the risk, having not read any of Sáenz’s work, and requested a copy. And I am truly glad I did. What, from the blurb and book cover, could result in a mundane Young Adult novel, turned out to be a thing of true beauty. The prose is almost poetic and full of emotion; it not only tells the story, it makes you feel it too.
The narrator, Salvador “Sal”, is beginning his final year at El Paso High School with his best friend Sam. Normally, the first day of school is something he looks forward to, however he feels differently this year. Something within Sal has changed, something indescribable but there all the same. Something that makes punching someone in the face an automatic reaction.
Sal’s dad is gay. Although not his real dad, Vicente adopted Sal into his extended Mexican American family after the death of his mother when he was three years old. He could not have asked for a better parent, but something is niggling in the back of his mind: who is his birth father?
Whilst Sal soliloquizes about his feelings, the reader is introduced to best friend Sam – a girl who, despite an erudite vocabulary, is not afraid to cuss and swear. Sam also understands what it is like to not truly know who you are, as does Fito, another friend, with terrible relations. Tragic events pull the three together, giving them a new chance at being part of a family despite not being blood related.
Sal, Sam and Fito try to help each other through their problems, ruminating together over their pasts and contemplating the unpredictable future. Despite each character suffering from grief, their friendship gives them a purpose and the encouragement to carry on.
<i>The Inexplicable Logic of My Life</i> covers so many themes it is impossible to categorize. Sam, Fito and Vicente are all encumbered with something that could ostracize them from society – their sexuality, race, drug addict parents – but they never let this get in their way. Sal, on the other hand, struggles somewhat, believing he no longer knows who he really is. He questions everything: how does he fit into the world around him? What right does he have to graduate and go to college?
With great efficacy, Sáenz explains through Sal’s voice, the importance of believing in yourself, letting yourself be loved, and accepting things for what they really are. All the main characters are trying so hard to belong; they do not realize that they always have belonged.
<i>The Inexplicable Logic of My Life</i> is a story of grief, death, family, friendship, fathers and words; a graceful, almost lyrical, narrative that gets to the heart of human existence and uplifts the spirit. The expressive language has a great emotional impact on the reader – have your tissues at the ready – and resonates within the soul. With quotable lines that you will wish you had written yourself, I guarantee you will love this book.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated The Ice-Cream Makers in Books
Dec 14, 2018
<i>I received this book for free through Goodreads First Reads.</i>
An intriguing blurb promises an incredible story about an Italian ice-cream making family, however the story is nothing like you expect. Ernest van der Kwast’s <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> is set between a small village in Italy and the busy summer streets of Rotterdam. The Talamini family has been creating innovative ice-cream flavours for over a century, running a successful and hard-working parlour in the Netherlands. The business is handed down from father to son throughout the years, but now eldest son Giovanni has broken the tradition.
Giovanni Talamini has no interest in making ice-cream and would much rather spend the day reading poetry. After pursuing a literary career, Giovanni is now the director of the World Poetry Festival. Younger brother Luca has been left to pick up the <i>spatula</i> of the family business, but he has a problem of his own. Giovanni faces a dilemma: cut himself of from his family entirely or help his brother out with his peculiar request.
The highly unusual request mentioned in the blurb of <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> does not actually surface until the latter stages of the book. For the majority of the narrative there is no clear storyline, however the detail and information van der Kwast provides about ice-cream making, poetry and European culture makes the novel entirely worth reading. The request itself is entirely unexpected and not at all possible to guess, but it is an oddly brilliant way of reuniting two estranged brothers.
It takes a while for the narrative to start flowing as it constantly changes time periods. Giovanni, the narrator, rarely speaks in the present tense and is constantly relating events from his childhood and adulthood interspersed with family history and historical knowledge. On occasion the book takes on the air of an autobiography as Giovanni gives an in depth insight to the life of his family and his break from tradition. There is also the odd chapter that becomes almost a work of non-fiction, providing the reader with highbrow literary references and factual information about the history of ice-cream.
Once the scenes caused by the male sexual mind have been glossed over, <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> becomes a beautifully written, almost poetical story that compels and engages the reader despite the lack of a clear-cut storyline. The literary references will appeal to the intellectual, scholar, philosopher or culture enthusiast, for this novel teaches and inspires as well as entertains.
The amount of research van der Kwast conducted is phenomenal. The accuracy (or so is presumed) of the historical factors implies the author had thoroughly investigated the subject matter prior to writing. It is almost as though van der Kwast lived the life of Giovanni; it is entirely believable – hence the sense of an autobiography. Although the nature of the novel’s theme suggests a serious tone, van der Kwast has included a great deal of humour in the form of Giovanni and Luca’s father and his questionable mental health.
The lack of a climax prevents <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> from being described as an exciting book, however its beautifully poetic prose makes up for this absence. The philosophical insight into poetry will make you think about life and admire Giovanni for insisting on making his own way in the world. Likewise, Luca’s quiet acceptance and perseverance in the family business is also an admirable feat. Readers with a dislike for descriptive sexual scenarios may feel uncomfortable in a few of the resulting scenes, however the general story compensates for these distasteful passages. All in all, a high-quality work of fiction.
An intriguing blurb promises an incredible story about an Italian ice-cream making family, however the story is nothing like you expect. Ernest van der Kwast’s <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> is set between a small village in Italy and the busy summer streets of Rotterdam. The Talamini family has been creating innovative ice-cream flavours for over a century, running a successful and hard-working parlour in the Netherlands. The business is handed down from father to son throughout the years, but now eldest son Giovanni has broken the tradition.
Giovanni Talamini has no interest in making ice-cream and would much rather spend the day reading poetry. After pursuing a literary career, Giovanni is now the director of the World Poetry Festival. Younger brother Luca has been left to pick up the <i>spatula</i> of the family business, but he has a problem of his own. Giovanni faces a dilemma: cut himself of from his family entirely or help his brother out with his peculiar request.
The highly unusual request mentioned in the blurb of <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> does not actually surface until the latter stages of the book. For the majority of the narrative there is no clear storyline, however the detail and information van der Kwast provides about ice-cream making, poetry and European culture makes the novel entirely worth reading. The request itself is entirely unexpected and not at all possible to guess, but it is an oddly brilliant way of reuniting two estranged brothers.
It takes a while for the narrative to start flowing as it constantly changes time periods. Giovanni, the narrator, rarely speaks in the present tense and is constantly relating events from his childhood and adulthood interspersed with family history and historical knowledge. On occasion the book takes on the air of an autobiography as Giovanni gives an in depth insight to the life of his family and his break from tradition. There is also the odd chapter that becomes almost a work of non-fiction, providing the reader with highbrow literary references and factual information about the history of ice-cream.
Once the scenes caused by the male sexual mind have been glossed over, <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> becomes a beautifully written, almost poetical story that compels and engages the reader despite the lack of a clear-cut storyline. The literary references will appeal to the intellectual, scholar, philosopher or culture enthusiast, for this novel teaches and inspires as well as entertains.
The amount of research van der Kwast conducted is phenomenal. The accuracy (or so is presumed) of the historical factors implies the author had thoroughly investigated the subject matter prior to writing. It is almost as though van der Kwast lived the life of Giovanni; it is entirely believable – hence the sense of an autobiography. Although the nature of the novel’s theme suggests a serious tone, van der Kwast has included a great deal of humour in the form of Giovanni and Luca’s father and his questionable mental health.
The lack of a climax prevents <i>The Ice-Cream Makers</i> from being described as an exciting book, however its beautifully poetic prose makes up for this absence. The philosophical insight into poetry will make you think about life and admire Giovanni for insisting on making his own way in the world. Likewise, Luca’s quiet acceptance and perseverance in the family business is also an admirable feat. Readers with a dislike for descriptive sexual scenarios may feel uncomfortable in a few of the resulting scenes, however the general story compensates for these distasteful passages. All in all, a high-quality work of fiction.
Sophia (Bookwyrming Thoughts) (530 KP) rated Deep Blue (Waterfire Saga, #1) in Books
Jan 23, 2020
<i>Deep Blue</i> could have been amazing. Donnelly had a pretty good concept going: the world was unique, completely different, and it's obvious lots of planning went into the building – there's <b>a lot of imagery to clearly depict the underwater of the merpeople, the merpeople had their own distinct languages and cultures</b>. The writing, especially the chant during the waterfire and throughout the book by the witches, was <b>poetic and rhythmic.</b>
The execution, however, was poor.
Serafina and her friend, Neela, were <b>faced against formidable odds after Miromara is attacked that could have been really interesting to see them play out</b>. Instead, the two of them run. Throughout the book, they're chased by a person named Traho, who apparently wants them alive for some unknown reason (currently unknown, that is). The two are rescued by the Praedatori, who are apparently a band of protectors who protect the sea from "terragoggs."
Yet, they are attacked. Again. So they run and get intercepted by Rorrim Drol, the lord of the mirror realm who feeds on fears. And...
Wait for it...
They run again.
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<td style="text-align: center;"><img style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" src="http://bookwyrmingthoughts.bookblog.io/wp-content/uploads/sites/317/2015/05/Patrick-running-funny-gif-comics-celbrities-picture.gif"; width="320" height="183" border="0" /></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had to use this.</td>
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<b>Obviously by that point (when it's almost sixty percent of the book), when they've been attacked and they run or something of the similar sort, and the cycle is repeated quite a few times...</b>
<b style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Even the most patient readers become impatient by that point</b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">. Either </span>that<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> or I'm not exactly as patient as some people have said about me (you lovelies are sorrily wrong). Where are the other five? Why have we only found three (okay, one, because two are "found" at the very beginning </span>anyway<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">) by this point? Are we still looking for the mermaids involved by the next book as well? If that's the case, I'm not interested. If it's an entirely different case, then what's the probability that the other mermaids are found quickly and swiftly in the midst of attacking and running? There's really only 40% of the book left to do all of that.</span>
The world, no matter how unique or different it is, or how there's a variety of imagery, won't account with how<b> there's a bunch of made-up language that would have been extremely hard for me to figure out without the audiobook to help me (no thanks to the accent</b> – accents are NOT fun when the bus is chugging down roads and highways). I did, however, love the songspell (Open Your Eyes by Bea Miller) that accompanies the book.
<i>Deep Blue</i> is definitely different from Donnelly's other books, but with all the running from the attacks and rarely anything being accomplished by the majority of the book, I simply didn't have the patience. If anything, I probably <i>shouldn't</i> have lasted as long as I did.
<a href="https://bookwyrmingthoughts.com/dnf-audiobook-review-deep-blue-by-jennifer-donnelly/"; target="_blank">This review was originally posted on Bookwyrming Thoughts</a>
The execution, however, was poor.
Serafina and her friend, Neela, were <b>faced against formidable odds after Miromara is attacked that could have been really interesting to see them play out</b>. Instead, the two of them run. Throughout the book, they're chased by a person named Traho, who apparently wants them alive for some unknown reason (currently unknown, that is). The two are rescued by the Praedatori, who are apparently a band of protectors who protect the sea from "terragoggs."
Yet, they are attacked. Again. So they run and get intercepted by Rorrim Drol, the lord of the mirror realm who feeds on fears. And...
Wait for it...
They run again.
<table class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" align="center">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="text-align: center;"><img style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" src="http://bookwyrmingthoughts.bookblog.io/wp-content/uploads/sites/317/2015/05/Patrick-running-funny-gif-comics-celbrities-picture.gif"; width="320" height="183" border="0" /></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had to use this.</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>
<b>Obviously by that point (when it's almost sixty percent of the book), when they've been attacked and they run or something of the similar sort, and the cycle is repeated quite a few times...</b>
<b style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Even the most patient readers become impatient by that point</b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">. Either </span>that<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> or I'm not exactly as patient as some people have said about me (you lovelies are sorrily wrong). Where are the other five? Why have we only found three (okay, one, because two are "found" at the very beginning </span>anyway<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">) by this point? Are we still looking for the mermaids involved by the next book as well? If that's the case, I'm not interested. If it's an entirely different case, then what's the probability that the other mermaids are found quickly and swiftly in the midst of attacking and running? There's really only 40% of the book left to do all of that.</span>
The world, no matter how unique or different it is, or how there's a variety of imagery, won't account with how<b> there's a bunch of made-up language that would have been extremely hard for me to figure out without the audiobook to help me (no thanks to the accent</b> – accents are NOT fun when the bus is chugging down roads and highways). I did, however, love the songspell (Open Your Eyes by Bea Miller) that accompanies the book.
<i>Deep Blue</i> is definitely different from Donnelly's other books, but with all the running from the attacks and rarely anything being accomplished by the majority of the book, I simply didn't have the patience. If anything, I probably <i>shouldn't</i> have lasted as long as I did.
<a href="https://bookwyrmingthoughts.com/dnf-audiobook-review-deep-blue-by-jennifer-donnelly/"; target="_blank">This review was originally posted on Bookwyrming Thoughts</a>
Christ In Song
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We are pleased to present the Christ in Song hymn treasury. These hymns are hand-picked for their...
Kyera (8 KP) rated Flame in the Mist in Books
Jan 31, 2018
I received an ARC/e-galley of this book through Penguin's First to Read program - although that did not influence my opinion of the book or the review provided.
Although the story is vastly different from the Wrath and the Dawn, Renée Ahdieh's poetic style of writing comes across just as beautifully in this novel as her previous series. The gorgeous writing is my favourite aspect of the book, followed very closely by the plot, characters, and the world.
I have always been a huge admirer of the Japanese culture and love seeing the (fictional) historical representation of feudal Japan. There aren't a lot of examples of this that I have personally read and truly fallen in love with. This is by far my favorite iteration of that time and I adore the story that accompanies that world.
Mariko is to be wed to one of the Emperor's sons, an act that would bring her family honour and one that she does not wish to partake in. Alas, she is a girl and thus does not get a choice in her future. Halfway to her destination, her litter is attacked and the entire envoy is killed - except Mariko.
This attempt on her life changes everything and leads her on a journey to discover who put a price on her life, to find answers and ensure her family's honour. Mariko knows that a girl cannot accomplish this on her own and takes drastic measures. Her first act is to cut her hair and it gave me such Mulan vibes. It immediately made me so much more excited to read this book, especially if she channeled my favorite Disney heroine (and spoiler alert, she does).
Mariko is a great female character to look up to because no matter what situation she finds herself and she will persist, fight against the odds, learn whatever she can, and never let anyone keep her down. She is such a strong character and it is so empowering to see that in the novel, especially when you don't see that type of character generally in this world.
She masquerades as a peasant boy and is able to fool everyone. I almost immediately fall in love with Mariko as she is curious, intelligent doesn't always know when to stop talking. She is a feisty, strong female character who is not used to being on her own but is intelligent enough to always want to learn and succeed despite the hurdles. We get to know Mariko best and see her grow over the course of the novel.
Her twin brother Kenshin is the brawn to Mariko's brains. He is much more comfortable on a horse or with a weapon in his hand than in conversation with nobles. It is his actions that truly lead her down the path and make her question everything she's ever believed in. Which is so difficult to do because you want to believe in the best of your family until wonder if that's not true, can shake your entire foundation. It's a really authentic feeling in the book and you wonder just as Mariko wonders - could it be true?
Ranmaru and Okami are members of the Black Clan, a band of notorious thieves who may be more than they appear. The two men are like yin and yang, the counterbalances of one another. Ranmaru is an optimist, more talkative and humorous than Okami, who is more serious and hides himself behind a mask.
Renee Ahdieh's beautiful writing extends to the world at large, painting vibrant pictures of cities like Inaka and foreboding ones of the forest where the Black Clan make their home. You are transported into the world with the characters and don't want to leave, even if the situations you're faced with aren't always pleasant.
I fell in love with the story and the characters almost immediately. Flame in the Mist is a wonderful story and I cannot wait to read the next in the series. The book has a satisfying conclusion while also leading you to excitedly anticipate what will happen in the subsequent books. Highly recommended to young adult/teen readers who have enjoyed Renee Ahdieh's previous novels, strong female leads, and beautifully written stories.
Although the story is vastly different from the Wrath and the Dawn, Renée Ahdieh's poetic style of writing comes across just as beautifully in this novel as her previous series. The gorgeous writing is my favourite aspect of the book, followed very closely by the plot, characters, and the world.
I have always been a huge admirer of the Japanese culture and love seeing the (fictional) historical representation of feudal Japan. There aren't a lot of examples of this that I have personally read and truly fallen in love with. This is by far my favorite iteration of that time and I adore the story that accompanies that world.
Mariko is to be wed to one of the Emperor's sons, an act that would bring her family honour and one that she does not wish to partake in. Alas, she is a girl and thus does not get a choice in her future. Halfway to her destination, her litter is attacked and the entire envoy is killed - except Mariko.
This attempt on her life changes everything and leads her on a journey to discover who put a price on her life, to find answers and ensure her family's honour. Mariko knows that a girl cannot accomplish this on her own and takes drastic measures. Her first act is to cut her hair and it gave me such Mulan vibes. It immediately made me so much more excited to read this book, especially if she channeled my favorite Disney heroine (and spoiler alert, she does).
Mariko is a great female character to look up to because no matter what situation she finds herself and she will persist, fight against the odds, learn whatever she can, and never let anyone keep her down. She is such a strong character and it is so empowering to see that in the novel, especially when you don't see that type of character generally in this world.
She masquerades as a peasant boy and is able to fool everyone. I almost immediately fall in love with Mariko as she is curious, intelligent doesn't always know when to stop talking. She is a feisty, strong female character who is not used to being on her own but is intelligent enough to always want to learn and succeed despite the hurdles. We get to know Mariko best and see her grow over the course of the novel.
Her twin brother Kenshin is the brawn to Mariko's brains. He is much more comfortable on a horse or with a weapon in his hand than in conversation with nobles. It is his actions that truly lead her down the path and make her question everything she's ever believed in. Which is so difficult to do because you want to believe in the best of your family until wonder if that's not true, can shake your entire foundation. It's a really authentic feeling in the book and you wonder just as Mariko wonders - could it be true?
Ranmaru and Okami are members of the Black Clan, a band of notorious thieves who may be more than they appear. The two men are like yin and yang, the counterbalances of one another. Ranmaru is an optimist, more talkative and humorous than Okami, who is more serious and hides himself behind a mask.
Renee Ahdieh's beautiful writing extends to the world at large, painting vibrant pictures of cities like Inaka and foreboding ones of the forest where the Black Clan make their home. You are transported into the world with the characters and don't want to leave, even if the situations you're faced with aren't always pleasant.
I fell in love with the story and the characters almost immediately. Flame in the Mist is a wonderful story and I cannot wait to read the next in the series. The book has a satisfying conclusion while also leading you to excitedly anticipate what will happen in the subsequent books. Highly recommended to young adult/teen readers who have enjoyed Renee Ahdieh's previous novels, strong female leads, and beautifully written stories.
Eilidh G Clark (177 KP) rated The Sunlight Pilgrims in Books
May 13, 2017
Smashing novel
‘What are you meant to do when a humongous cloud is coming toward you on a sheer mountain drop? He lifts his phone and there are no bars, he can’t even google it. Two eagles spiral out of the cloud, calling to each other, and one has something small gripped in it’s claws. They coast on the wind – each wingspan must be about three feet – and they appear almost still.’
Jenni Fagan’s The Sunlight Pilgrims was published by Windmill Books in 2015 and for me, was a much-anticipated novel. After reading her debut novel, The Panopticon, my expectations were high and I was not disappointed. This is a pre-apocalyptic novel set in a fictional Scottish town of Clachan Fells in the not too distant future of 2020. The novel explores the lives of a community of eccentric individuals living in close the proximity of a caravan park. As the temperatures plunge into extreme minuses, the residents are faced with a bleak and uncertain future, not only of their own survival, but also the survival of the human race.
The most interesting thing about this novel is that on the surface, nothing really happens, yet it would be wise to look deeper. Amongst the daily challenges of individual lives, there lurks a thought provoking tale of identity, community, and environment.
The novel is written from the perspective of two of its main characters Stella – a transgender teenager and Dylan a Londoner who recently moves to Clachan Fells. The most interesting thing about these two characters is the perspectives that each individual has about place. For Stella, her world is a difficult place full of prejudice and rejection, even from her own father. Whilst her own personal identity is unquestionable, the community rejects her choices. This point of view provokes the reader to question the nature of identity, a topic often argued when discussing Scotland. From Stella’s point of view, her own identity is progressive, changing, developing while the society around her static. Alistair’s point of view however, allows the reader a modern and open approach. Described in the prologue as the Incomer (notice the capitalization) directs the reader towards Margaret Elphinstone’s novel The Incomer published in 1987. Elphinstone’s novel is a post-apocalyptic tale and, like Fagan’s, novel examines the question of identity. Thomas Christie suggests in Notional Identities, that Elphinstone is ‘depicting the country’s ability to adapt to extreme change¬ ̶ carving a form of localism from the bones of globalisation ̶ she recognises its progressive aptitude to embrace forces of social transformation while retaining recognisable core cultural imperatives.’ It is no coincidence that Fagan has subtly steered the reader to this novel; identity is clearly a topic that the author is keen to explore. Dylan is a progressive character in Fagan’s novel. Discovering Stella identity very early in the novel, the character never questions her choices or that of Mother who has two partners. Likewise, this progressive thinking expands to the other residents of the caravan park, which houses a prostitute, an alien worshipper, and a disabled man with a crooked back who worships the sky. Not only does Dylan accept people for who they are; his deep connection to the environment makes him instinctive as opposed to the more rational thinkers of the world.
Unlike many modern writers, Fagan raises more questions about society and identity than she answers. This is an interesting technique as it leaves the reader to question the novel as opposed to question to authors own political and societal views. That said there is no doubt that this is a Scottish novel. The story is steeped in Scottish mythical symbolism such as the blackbird that lands on a fence post with his eyes reflecting a vast mountain range, to the eagles and stag’s on the mountains. In addition, the characters take on mythical persona’s including a giant, a girl with second sight, and a moon polisher. With oral tales of Sunlight Pilgrims highlighting the Scottish oral storytelling tradition, and a poetic sentence structure done in true Fagan style this novel feels truly Scottish.
I would highly recommend this postmodern novel, which urges the reader to look beyond society and address the problems of ego and the rational mind in order to create a progressive unified world where outsiders are welcomed as incomers – a prevalent issue in today’s society.
Jenni Fagan’s The Sunlight Pilgrims was published by Windmill Books in 2015 and for me, was a much-anticipated novel. After reading her debut novel, The Panopticon, my expectations were high and I was not disappointed. This is a pre-apocalyptic novel set in a fictional Scottish town of Clachan Fells in the not too distant future of 2020. The novel explores the lives of a community of eccentric individuals living in close the proximity of a caravan park. As the temperatures plunge into extreme minuses, the residents are faced with a bleak and uncertain future, not only of their own survival, but also the survival of the human race.
The most interesting thing about this novel is that on the surface, nothing really happens, yet it would be wise to look deeper. Amongst the daily challenges of individual lives, there lurks a thought provoking tale of identity, community, and environment.
The novel is written from the perspective of two of its main characters Stella – a transgender teenager and Dylan a Londoner who recently moves to Clachan Fells. The most interesting thing about these two characters is the perspectives that each individual has about place. For Stella, her world is a difficult place full of prejudice and rejection, even from her own father. Whilst her own personal identity is unquestionable, the community rejects her choices. This point of view provokes the reader to question the nature of identity, a topic often argued when discussing Scotland. From Stella’s point of view, her own identity is progressive, changing, developing while the society around her static. Alistair’s point of view however, allows the reader a modern and open approach. Described in the prologue as the Incomer (notice the capitalization) directs the reader towards Margaret Elphinstone’s novel The Incomer published in 1987. Elphinstone’s novel is a post-apocalyptic tale and, like Fagan’s, novel examines the question of identity. Thomas Christie suggests in Notional Identities, that Elphinstone is ‘depicting the country’s ability to adapt to extreme change¬ ̶ carving a form of localism from the bones of globalisation ̶ she recognises its progressive aptitude to embrace forces of social transformation while retaining recognisable core cultural imperatives.’ It is no coincidence that Fagan has subtly steered the reader to this novel; identity is clearly a topic that the author is keen to explore. Dylan is a progressive character in Fagan’s novel. Discovering Stella identity very early in the novel, the character never questions her choices or that of Mother who has two partners. Likewise, this progressive thinking expands to the other residents of the caravan park, which houses a prostitute, an alien worshipper, and a disabled man with a crooked back who worships the sky. Not only does Dylan accept people for who they are; his deep connection to the environment makes him instinctive as opposed to the more rational thinkers of the world.
Unlike many modern writers, Fagan raises more questions about society and identity than she answers. This is an interesting technique as it leaves the reader to question the novel as opposed to question to authors own political and societal views. That said there is no doubt that this is a Scottish novel. The story is steeped in Scottish mythical symbolism such as the blackbird that lands on a fence post with his eyes reflecting a vast mountain range, to the eagles and stag’s on the mountains. In addition, the characters take on mythical persona’s including a giant, a girl with second sight, and a moon polisher. With oral tales of Sunlight Pilgrims highlighting the Scottish oral storytelling tradition, and a poetic sentence structure done in true Fagan style this novel feels truly Scottish.
I would highly recommend this postmodern novel, which urges the reader to look beyond society and address the problems of ego and the rational mind in order to create a progressive unified world where outsiders are welcomed as incomers – a prevalent issue in today’s society.