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graveyardgremlin (7194 KP) rated Fury of Fire (Dragonfury, #1) in Books
Feb 15, 2019
<b>NOTE:</b> I did not finish Fury of Fire. I reached page 207, out of 412, before I called it quits. My review reflects on what I read and no more, which is more than enough to be indicative to how the author creates her book.
During the course of reading, everyone comes across a book that just doesn't connect with them. That doesn't mean the book is bad or that others shouldn't read it, it just means the it isn't a good fit that particular person. This is that book for me. I had a very difficult time getting through what I read, mostly due to a bunch of little things that stood out and were what I consider oddities, especially in context to situations in the book. If I had to describe this book in one word, it'd be abrasive. The characters, the dialogue, and most importantly, the writing felt like rubbing sandpaper over a wound. Over and over again.
<b>THE BAD</b>
The constant bombardment of internalizing that both Myst and Bastian provide in this book was like a splinter under my fingernail. The more I dug, the more painful it became, and I started to dislike the book and main characters more and more as I read on. Admittedly, it was pretty easy to loathe Bastian and Myst when it became apparent that they are both boring and stupid, and I didn't find Bastian all that likeable in the first place. Call me crazy, but I just feel uneasy when a character wants to immediately jump the bones of a person he just met in horrific situation while she is frightened beyond belief. But apparently that's okay because he acknowledges his creepiness in a fit of mental self-flagellation. Sorry, but that doesn't fly with me. Maybe if that had been mentioned only once, I would have let it slide, but it keeps on like that for way too long. Apparently he's all alpha on the outside and emo on the inside. What a winning combination! Not. Myst herself starts off, uh, decent enough but then quickly becomes the nitwit I was hoping to avoid. She gets the fastest case of Stockholm Syndrome I've ever come across. For all intents and purposes, Bastian kidnapped her. Sure, we the readers know it's for Myst and the baby's safety from the evil Razorbacks, but she certainly doesn't know that, therefore I found her reactions extremely unrealistic and bizarre to the situations she was in. One minute she's fighting, and by fighting I mean being stubbornly spunky, or somewhat thinking of escape, the next she's imagining wild, hot monkey sex with Bastian. I'm sorry but if some big, six-foot-six (apparently every male is 6'6 in this book, even the human cop. Obviously, if a guy is under that height, he's not really a man.), scary dude who can turn into a dragon kidnaps me, I am so not going to be thinking about how hot they are or what they're like in the sack. Yeah, uh-huh, that makes perfect sense. Oy! Anyway, they end up making out that night due to Bastian's alpha going crazy and some supernatural roofie that dragons put out to females. God, this is not romantic at all. And it's only been a few hours since they "met"! The morning after Myst is kidnapped, she wakes up naked and finds out Bastian bathed her, can you say mondo creepy? So after she dresses, she goes meandering through the Nightfury's lair, admiring his artwork and crap, then ends up in the kitchen with the rest of the freaky-tall Nightfuries. I'd be high-tailing it out of there, in fact, I would have been plotting escape long before this point. It appears she only thinks of escape once a day. While she's in the kitchen, Bastian has her sit at the table so she can eat her breakfast. He sets down a plate in front of her and as she goes to have a bite, she notices he cut her waffles into little, perfect, bite-size pieces and she's apparently overcome by this act. How weird is that?! All feminist angles aside, who cuts up someone else's food unless: A, it's for a small child, two, their arms and hands are broken, or D, they're handicapped in some way that prevents them from feeding themselves? W.T.F.? Frankly, I think it's just odd. And then she gets misty-eyed (Myst is all misty, how cute. *gag*) when he asks her to help name the baby he kidnapped. I've already doubted her sanity before but now it's gone to even more ridiculous heights by this point.
The magical Rohypnol I mentioned before creeped me the heck out. So when a dragon guy needs his energy fix, he picks out a woman, roofies her, feeds off her energy, sleeps with her, and then wipes her memory! Say what? That's too close to rape for my liking. This wasn't just the bad guys doing this, but the next book's "hero" did that to a woman in a hospital (note: she wasn't a patient, I think she was a researcher or something, I don't remember). How sweet.
The excessive swearing needed edited down. Normally I don't mind a little cursing here and there, but so much of it didn't need to be added to the dialogue or characters and showed a lack of creativity.
The "dragons" are really shape-shifting vampires. They have to feed off women, only it's energy instead of blood, they can't be out in the sun, they heal quickly, live a long time, are super-strong, amongst other attributes. If you're going to have shape-shifting dragons, don't make them so similar to other paranormal species. Differentiate them so they're unique, not a near-clone.
I didn't like the whole reading of minds thing. If it was something that happened when mated, fine, but I don't like the thought of someone just arbitrarily getting into someone else's brain whenever they want. It's a violation. Bastian did this to Myst way too often.
The characters sound a lot like each other. They don't all have individual voices so there isn't much beyond a name separating one from the other.
<b>THE GOOD</b>
The first fight scene was actually quite well-done, although it was very early on in the book so it might not hold up on a second reading. The next fight scene wasn't too bad, maybe a little confusing at times.
The other characters in the Dragonfury series have the potential to be more interesting if they can be given some individuality, but since I didn't connect with the author's writing style and don't like most of the ideas, I won't be looking for any sequels to this oh-so-romantic series. I wouldn't recommend this book, but hey, if it sounds right up your alley or you have masochistic tendencies, by all means try it out for yourself.
As a final note, I just wanted to thank <a href="http://homealone.wikia.com/wiki/Buzz_McCallister"; target="_blank">Buzz McCallister</a> for his mad counting/alphabetizing skillz in writing this review. I couldn't have done it without you, buddy.
<img src="http://kindbooksandcoronets.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/buzzmccallister1.jpg">;
During the course of reading, everyone comes across a book that just doesn't connect with them. That doesn't mean the book is bad or that others shouldn't read it, it just means the it isn't a good fit that particular person. This is that book for me. I had a very difficult time getting through what I read, mostly due to a bunch of little things that stood out and were what I consider oddities, especially in context to situations in the book. If I had to describe this book in one word, it'd be abrasive. The characters, the dialogue, and most importantly, the writing felt like rubbing sandpaper over a wound. Over and over again.
<b>THE BAD</b>
The constant bombardment of internalizing that both Myst and Bastian provide in this book was like a splinter under my fingernail. The more I dug, the more painful it became, and I started to dislike the book and main characters more and more as I read on. Admittedly, it was pretty easy to loathe Bastian and Myst when it became apparent that they are both boring and stupid, and I didn't find Bastian all that likeable in the first place. Call me crazy, but I just feel uneasy when a character wants to immediately jump the bones of a person he just met in horrific situation while she is frightened beyond belief. But apparently that's okay because he acknowledges his creepiness in a fit of mental self-flagellation. Sorry, but that doesn't fly with me. Maybe if that had been mentioned only once, I would have let it slide, but it keeps on like that for way too long. Apparently he's all alpha on the outside and emo on the inside. What a winning combination! Not. Myst herself starts off, uh, decent enough but then quickly becomes the nitwit I was hoping to avoid. She gets the fastest case of Stockholm Syndrome I've ever come across. For all intents and purposes, Bastian kidnapped her. Sure, we the readers know it's for Myst and the baby's safety from the evil Razorbacks, but she certainly doesn't know that, therefore I found her reactions extremely unrealistic and bizarre to the situations she was in. One minute she's fighting, and by fighting I mean being stubbornly spunky, or somewhat thinking of escape, the next she's imagining wild, hot monkey sex with Bastian. I'm sorry but if some big, six-foot-six (apparently every male is 6'6 in this book, even the human cop. Obviously, if a guy is under that height, he's not really a man.), scary dude who can turn into a dragon kidnaps me, I am so not going to be thinking about how hot they are or what they're like in the sack. Yeah, uh-huh, that makes perfect sense. Oy! Anyway, they end up making out that night due to Bastian's alpha going crazy and some supernatural roofie that dragons put out to females. God, this is not romantic at all. And it's only been a few hours since they "met"! The morning after Myst is kidnapped, she wakes up naked and finds out Bastian bathed her, can you say mondo creepy? So after she dresses, she goes meandering through the Nightfury's lair, admiring his artwork and crap, then ends up in the kitchen with the rest of the freaky-tall Nightfuries. I'd be high-tailing it out of there, in fact, I would have been plotting escape long before this point. It appears she only thinks of escape once a day. While she's in the kitchen, Bastian has her sit at the table so she can eat her breakfast. He sets down a plate in front of her and as she goes to have a bite, she notices he cut her waffles into little, perfect, bite-size pieces and she's apparently overcome by this act. How weird is that?! All feminist angles aside, who cuts up someone else's food unless: A, it's for a small child, two, their arms and hands are broken, or D, they're handicapped in some way that prevents them from feeding themselves? W.T.F.? Frankly, I think it's just odd. And then she gets misty-eyed (Myst is all misty, how cute. *gag*) when he asks her to help name the baby he kidnapped. I've already doubted her sanity before but now it's gone to even more ridiculous heights by this point.
The magical Rohypnol I mentioned before creeped me the heck out. So when a dragon guy needs his energy fix, he picks out a woman, roofies her, feeds off her energy, sleeps with her, and then wipes her memory! Say what? That's too close to rape for my liking. This wasn't just the bad guys doing this, but the next book's "hero" did that to a woman in a hospital (note: she wasn't a patient, I think she was a researcher or something, I don't remember). How sweet.
The excessive swearing needed edited down. Normally I don't mind a little cursing here and there, but so much of it didn't need to be added to the dialogue or characters and showed a lack of creativity.
The "dragons" are really shape-shifting vampires. They have to feed off women, only it's energy instead of blood, they can't be out in the sun, they heal quickly, live a long time, are super-strong, amongst other attributes. If you're going to have shape-shifting dragons, don't make them so similar to other paranormal species. Differentiate them so they're unique, not a near-clone.
I didn't like the whole reading of minds thing. If it was something that happened when mated, fine, but I don't like the thought of someone just arbitrarily getting into someone else's brain whenever they want. It's a violation. Bastian did this to Myst way too often.
The characters sound a lot like each other. They don't all have individual voices so there isn't much beyond a name separating one from the other.
<b>THE GOOD</b>
The first fight scene was actually quite well-done, although it was very early on in the book so it might not hold up on a second reading. The next fight scene wasn't too bad, maybe a little confusing at times.
The other characters in the Dragonfury series have the potential to be more interesting if they can be given some individuality, but since I didn't connect with the author's writing style and don't like most of the ideas, I won't be looking for any sequels to this oh-so-romantic series. I wouldn't recommend this book, but hey, if it sounds right up your alley or you have masochistic tendencies, by all means try it out for yourself.
As a final note, I just wanted to thank <a href="http://homealone.wikia.com/wiki/Buzz_McCallister"; target="_blank">Buzz McCallister</a> for his mad counting/alphabetizing skillz in writing this review. I couldn't have done it without you, buddy.
<img src="http://kindbooksandcoronets.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/buzzmccallister1.jpg">;
Kirk Bage (1775 KP) rated Knives Out (2019) in Movies
Jan 22, 2021
Murder mystery films tend to be more fun in theory and anticipation than they are to watch. It’s a genre that I very much enjoy and have indulged in over the years. Yet, if I look back in detail at it, I find that it is the books, especially those of Agatha Christie, that I like much more than anything lasting a couple of hours on the screen. There’s something about the mystery being rushed and squeezed into the cinema artform that is usually anti-climactic or even a full on let down.
Perhaps my favourite of the entire genre is a film that refuses to take itself seriously and is at once a pastiche of the multiple cliches that have accumulated over the years. And that film is, of course, the wonderfully camp, funny and charming 1985 romp Clue, starring Tim Curry and a slough of 80s B stars having the time of their lives. It isn’t a “good” film, it is a cult film, it’s joy being in its absolute lack of pretension or moral judgement. Like the board game that inspired it, it isn’t overly complicated or long, but has just enough cleverness, mirth and ambiance about it to always be a winner.
Rian Johnson’s take on the genre, Knives Out, is aware of these elements at all times, being above all things colourful, playful, arch and glib, but never convoluted or cerebral in an alienating way. He is something of a master at subverting a genre and wringing new life into it; take the invention of the teen noir in Brick, or the blend of assassin time travel sci-fi in Looper. He even gave an entire franchise a new breath of life by re-examining the use of humour and self referencing in Star Wars: The Last Jedi.
All of those previous films have as many detractors as mega fans, proving his style is devisive, for its audacity and its irreverence towards any idea of purism within an established model. And Knives Out is no exception to that. However, it may be the film of his that most people can agree on that they enjoyed, for one reason or another. I think it’s as interesting to ask why that is as it is to talk about the film itself… so, I will. At least, I’ll try to do both without losing my train of thought.
Firstly, it looks stunning; the palate of rich colours used in the poster and all marketing just make it look like something you want to immerse yourself in – every jacket, tie, dress, or piece of furniture is designed to precision, and it works like a dream of the genre you may have once had, as if it had been plucked directly from your subconscious. As in all good murder mysteries, the location, props and costumes should hold as much character as the actors, and the stately home of the Thrombey family certainly provides plenty of atmosphere in every texture and material on display.
Of course, the cast of characters is wonderfully put together with some inspired casting of familiar faces and actors you trust, such as Toni Collette and Michael Shannon, together with a few we don’t see enough of these days, such as Jamie Lee Curtis and Don Johnson, who both manage to create something as memorable as anything they did in their golden days. Add to the mix two bone fide action film superstars in Daniel Craig and Chris Evans, who leave the baggage of their most famous characters far behind and manage to convince you they are real actors again, the former with the aide of a jarring but hilarious Southern drawl, that grates at first but is a perfect choice on reflection.
Then there are the two lynchpins of this film’s ultimate success and joy: the exceptional legendary gravitas of 90 year old Christopher Plummer as the patriarch and victim at the centre of the intrigue, and the quite glorious revelation of Ana de Armas, whose charisma, beauty and skill in this delicately balanced role was the most impressive thing for me about the whole production. It may be Craig who is the ever present focus, as the detective tasked with solving the “crime”, but it is de Armas that you will remember most long after the credits roll.
As for the plot, well… I obviously can’t talk about it without ruining the whole thing. But, I can say that it isn’t far into the intricate web of motives, alibis and secrets before you start to sense this is going somewhere different, even unique. The examination of the relationships and personalities, and the extent to which they each demonstrate greed and selfishness is fascinating, superceding the crime that exists on the surface with a swamp of far seedier and unpleasant goings-on. Craig’s suave Benoit Blanc isn’t so much a detective here as a family therapist, or perhaps a supernatural presence in the style of the old classic, An Inspector Calls. Perhaps, it is suggested, no one completely escapes guilt and shame here… or do they? Are we looking for a murderer, or the only morally good person amidst a pack of dogs?
Another key element is how modern and unstuffy it feels, despite the country house and riches this is no play of manners, quite the opposite – no one here is on their best behaviour for the sake of decorum, and being upper class is an idea played with rather than enforced. The tea and cakes of the classic Christie, such as Murder on the Orient Express is replaced by smartphones and similar trappings, that identify it as definitely 2019 and no period piece. The concerns and themes are very much rooted in our present problems, and for that it engages and resonates in ways a costume drama just can’t do.
Upon finishing it for the first time, you may be thinking “sure, OK, I enjoyed that… but I’m not blown away here”. Then, as it sinks in over coming weeks, you find yourself recommending it to people, and thinking about how good it is in ways you didn’t initially think about. And that is surely why it was so embraced by the critics and paying public alike; it is a likeable, fun film, that can also stand some artistic scrutiny. It isn’t the smartest, or prettiest, or most meaningful film ever made, but it is enough of all three to make it an instant mini-classic, in my opinion.
I feel like there is maybe more to say about it, which is always a good sign, but that will do for now. I’d be happy to discuss it with anyone that feels the need. Or hear from anyone that didn’t like it! It would be interesting to hear that side of it, because I haven’t heard many negative comments on it at all. I don’t think I would defend it as a masterpiece to the end of the Earth, ‘cos it ain’t that good. I’m just hard pressed to find a serious fault. And it’s great when one of those sneaks up on you!
Perhaps my favourite of the entire genre is a film that refuses to take itself seriously and is at once a pastiche of the multiple cliches that have accumulated over the years. And that film is, of course, the wonderfully camp, funny and charming 1985 romp Clue, starring Tim Curry and a slough of 80s B stars having the time of their lives. It isn’t a “good” film, it is a cult film, it’s joy being in its absolute lack of pretension or moral judgement. Like the board game that inspired it, it isn’t overly complicated or long, but has just enough cleverness, mirth and ambiance about it to always be a winner.
Rian Johnson’s take on the genre, Knives Out, is aware of these elements at all times, being above all things colourful, playful, arch and glib, but never convoluted or cerebral in an alienating way. He is something of a master at subverting a genre and wringing new life into it; take the invention of the teen noir in Brick, or the blend of assassin time travel sci-fi in Looper. He even gave an entire franchise a new breath of life by re-examining the use of humour and self referencing in Star Wars: The Last Jedi.
All of those previous films have as many detractors as mega fans, proving his style is devisive, for its audacity and its irreverence towards any idea of purism within an established model. And Knives Out is no exception to that. However, it may be the film of his that most people can agree on that they enjoyed, for one reason or another. I think it’s as interesting to ask why that is as it is to talk about the film itself… so, I will. At least, I’ll try to do both without losing my train of thought.
Firstly, it looks stunning; the palate of rich colours used in the poster and all marketing just make it look like something you want to immerse yourself in – every jacket, tie, dress, or piece of furniture is designed to precision, and it works like a dream of the genre you may have once had, as if it had been plucked directly from your subconscious. As in all good murder mysteries, the location, props and costumes should hold as much character as the actors, and the stately home of the Thrombey family certainly provides plenty of atmosphere in every texture and material on display.
Of course, the cast of characters is wonderfully put together with some inspired casting of familiar faces and actors you trust, such as Toni Collette and Michael Shannon, together with a few we don’t see enough of these days, such as Jamie Lee Curtis and Don Johnson, who both manage to create something as memorable as anything they did in their golden days. Add to the mix two bone fide action film superstars in Daniel Craig and Chris Evans, who leave the baggage of their most famous characters far behind and manage to convince you they are real actors again, the former with the aide of a jarring but hilarious Southern drawl, that grates at first but is a perfect choice on reflection.
Then there are the two lynchpins of this film’s ultimate success and joy: the exceptional legendary gravitas of 90 year old Christopher Plummer as the patriarch and victim at the centre of the intrigue, and the quite glorious revelation of Ana de Armas, whose charisma, beauty and skill in this delicately balanced role was the most impressive thing for me about the whole production. It may be Craig who is the ever present focus, as the detective tasked with solving the “crime”, but it is de Armas that you will remember most long after the credits roll.
As for the plot, well… I obviously can’t talk about it without ruining the whole thing. But, I can say that it isn’t far into the intricate web of motives, alibis and secrets before you start to sense this is going somewhere different, even unique. The examination of the relationships and personalities, and the extent to which they each demonstrate greed and selfishness is fascinating, superceding the crime that exists on the surface with a swamp of far seedier and unpleasant goings-on. Craig’s suave Benoit Blanc isn’t so much a detective here as a family therapist, or perhaps a supernatural presence in the style of the old classic, An Inspector Calls. Perhaps, it is suggested, no one completely escapes guilt and shame here… or do they? Are we looking for a murderer, or the only morally good person amidst a pack of dogs?
Another key element is how modern and unstuffy it feels, despite the country house and riches this is no play of manners, quite the opposite – no one here is on their best behaviour for the sake of decorum, and being upper class is an idea played with rather than enforced. The tea and cakes of the classic Christie, such as Murder on the Orient Express is replaced by smartphones and similar trappings, that identify it as definitely 2019 and no period piece. The concerns and themes are very much rooted in our present problems, and for that it engages and resonates in ways a costume drama just can’t do.
Upon finishing it for the first time, you may be thinking “sure, OK, I enjoyed that… but I’m not blown away here”. Then, as it sinks in over coming weeks, you find yourself recommending it to people, and thinking about how good it is in ways you didn’t initially think about. And that is surely why it was so embraced by the critics and paying public alike; it is a likeable, fun film, that can also stand some artistic scrutiny. It isn’t the smartest, or prettiest, or most meaningful film ever made, but it is enough of all three to make it an instant mini-classic, in my opinion.
I feel like there is maybe more to say about it, which is always a good sign, but that will do for now. I’d be happy to discuss it with anyone that feels the need. Or hear from anyone that didn’t like it! It would be interesting to hear that side of it, because I haven’t heard many negative comments on it at all. I don’t think I would defend it as a masterpiece to the end of the Earth, ‘cos it ain’t that good. I’m just hard pressed to find a serious fault. And it’s great when one of those sneaks up on you!
Kyera (8 KP) rated Empire of Storms in Books
Feb 1, 2018
Re-Read Update:
This book destroyed me. I cheered when my baby, Abraxos, appeared (legitimately out loud cheered) and wanted to cry at those fateful words. If you've read this book, you know which ones I'm referring to and if not, I can't say because there would be spoilers. Despite the issues and shift in the characterization of some of our leads, this book takes you on an incredible emotional journey with highs that make you cheer (see above) and lows that bring you to tears (almost).
Despite the length of the book, I didn't feel as though the story lagged or the pacing was poor. Any free minute I had, I immediately turned to the book to continue where I left off. Even knowing what was going to happen, it managed to enthrall me.
One of the problems that I have with this book is its portrayal of relationships. There are aspects of it that are so swoon-worthy and make your heart hurt, but there are some that are not healthy. It's nice to see diverse portrayals of love and relationships, but my concern is that a young adult reader might see the territorial Fae nonsense in the book and not realize that it's an extreme. It might seem normalized. As I am not a teenager, I am aware of the intricacies and can roll my eyes at the "nonsense" without putting any weight on the idea. That may not be the same for teen readers.
There are aspects of the character development that seems off and others that, although regrettable, are completely valid. For example, Dorian has gone through an incredible amount of turmoil and emotional upheaval in the last two books. It's understandable that his personality would not quite be the same carefree, flirty scholar that we met in the first book who wished to stand up to his father but could never garner the courage to do so.
In a similar vein, we watch other characters develop into multi-faceted people and understand them more. Manon and Lysandra have become much more interesting characters as they were expanded upon, and at least for me have become some of my favourites. Despite the huge cast of fairly main characters, each is still given the time to shine and grow.
Finally, the world building continues in this book to an immense degree. A combination of the book's size and the various viewpoints has allowed Sarah J Maas to expand the world we have come to know. Erilea has been developed and we are able to see more pieces of Nehemia's homeland, Aelin's kingdom, and so much in between.
I still love this series and highly recommend it to young adult/teen readers who enjoy fantasy books.
Original Review:
These novels are so addicting, emotional and indescribable - but I'm going to try to do them justice. If you've not yet read up to Empire of Storms, please avoid this review as it has spoilers. I try to leave out the major plot points and just focus on the characters/world, but it's not free from them. Please read on only if you've read the series.
Our main cast of beloved and some tolerated, main/supporting characters grows throughout the series. Although we lose Nehemia, which I am still so sad about - we are introduced to the Fae. Their inclusion in the series brings the genre into high fantasy and makes it even more enjoyable. Prior to this series, I hadn't read many novels in which the supernatural creatures were the Fae but now I am obsessed. The world of the Fae isn't experienced or explained much, but I would love to see more of it. Their powers or abilities are so intriguing and well written. Just enough information is given that you can understand what is going on, then beautifully populate the world and battles in your mind.
Sarah J Maas makes you fall in love with each of the characters, whether you liked them when they were first introduced or not. One of the first perspective shifts we experience is when we are introduced to the bloodthirsty Manon Blackbeak. At first, you wish her scenes weren't there as they take away from time with our main characters but by the fifth novel she's one of the characters you're rooting for. Although she's a witch and over one hundred years old, she is given the ability to develop and change over the course of the novels. It takes time because she's learning that things she believed her entire life aren't true and don't need to affect how she views life.
Even characters that we were originally introduced to, like Lysandre are able to evolve and change over the course of the books. She and Celaena start off butting heads and competing, but that doesn't last. They join together and made a formidable pair (especially once magic is restored to the land). Lysandre grows into one of my favourite characters and her wholehearted commitment to the cause is inspiring.
Seeking more information about the Wyrdkeys, Celaena seeks knowledge from the Fae Queen Maeve. Unwilling to give her information away for nothing, Queen Maeve makes a deal that Celaena must train with and impress one of her trusted warriors, Rowan. Prince Rowan is able to manipulate ice and wind, whilst also transforming into a hawk. Her inner circle are sworn to her with a blood oath and a group of Fae warriors that include Rowan, Lorcan, Gavriel, Vaughen, Fenrys and Connall. Later on, this group is affectionately titled Rowan's cadre and some join our heroes on their journey.
Unsurprisingly, we discover that Celaena is actually the Princess (or Queen) of Terrasen and that revelation brings with it some people from her past. Her cousin, Aedion was forced for years to do the bidding of the King of Adarlan whilst secretly helping his people. He is a general and his legion of warriors called the Bane are loyal to him rather than the King. We also meet another person from Terrasen, the daughter of the woman who sacrificed herself to allow Aelin to escape as a child - Elide. She was mistreated by her Uncle for years, until Manon Blackbeak helped her escape. After only a few days, she crosses paths with Lorcan who is a member of Rowan's cadre and they begin to journey together.
Lorcan is not well liked by Rowan or Aelin when we first come across him in Rifthold. He is still bound to Queen Maeve and is seeking to find and destroy the Wyrdkeys. Throughout his journey across Erilea, he discovers that he has a soft spot for Elide and protects her. Some of the other cadre are viewed in a more favourable light by Aelin and her friends, as they attempt to delay their orders from Maeve to help on the quest.
Sarah J Maas writes the best pairings that fill your heart with so much feeling then she rips it out and stomps all over it. Rowan loves Aelin with his whole heart, every part, the good, the bad, the broken and beaten, the assassin, the Queen, the Fae and no one else has ever done that for her. Their love is true and enduring. Heartwrenching and pure. Even though they didn't start off on the best footing, after training her for a time and even breaking his blood oath to Maeve - Rowan is completely enamored. Plus, they're mates so there's nothing more important and bonding. Each relationship is authentic and pulls at your heartstrings.
Throughout the novels, you are able to experience more of the lands with Erilea from the dark, twisted towers of Morath to the Queen's home of Terrasen. They are welcome additions to our mental maps of the land and wonderfully illustrated through words.
This is one of my favourite series by far and is highly recommended to all - also specifically to young adult readers who enjoy well writen novels with developed characters, immersive world-building and fantasy.
This book destroyed me. I cheered when my baby, Abraxos, appeared (legitimately out loud cheered) and wanted to cry at those fateful words. If you've read this book, you know which ones I'm referring to and if not, I can't say because there would be spoilers. Despite the issues and shift in the characterization of some of our leads, this book takes you on an incredible emotional journey with highs that make you cheer (see above) and lows that bring you to tears (almost).
Despite the length of the book, I didn't feel as though the story lagged or the pacing was poor. Any free minute I had, I immediately turned to the book to continue where I left off. Even knowing what was going to happen, it managed to enthrall me.
One of the problems that I have with this book is its portrayal of relationships. There are aspects of it that are so swoon-worthy and make your heart hurt, but there are some that are not healthy. It's nice to see diverse portrayals of love and relationships, but my concern is that a young adult reader might see the territorial Fae nonsense in the book and not realize that it's an extreme. It might seem normalized. As I am not a teenager, I am aware of the intricacies and can roll my eyes at the "nonsense" without putting any weight on the idea. That may not be the same for teen readers.
There are aspects of the character development that seems off and others that, although regrettable, are completely valid. For example, Dorian has gone through an incredible amount of turmoil and emotional upheaval in the last two books. It's understandable that his personality would not quite be the same carefree, flirty scholar that we met in the first book who wished to stand up to his father but could never garner the courage to do so.
In a similar vein, we watch other characters develop into multi-faceted people and understand them more. Manon and Lysandra have become much more interesting characters as they were expanded upon, and at least for me have become some of my favourites. Despite the huge cast of fairly main characters, each is still given the time to shine and grow.
Finally, the world building continues in this book to an immense degree. A combination of the book's size and the various viewpoints has allowed Sarah J Maas to expand the world we have come to know. Erilea has been developed and we are able to see more pieces of Nehemia's homeland, Aelin's kingdom, and so much in between.
I still love this series and highly recommend it to young adult/teen readers who enjoy fantasy books.
Original Review:
These novels are so addicting, emotional and indescribable - but I'm going to try to do them justice. If you've not yet read up to Empire of Storms, please avoid this review as it has spoilers. I try to leave out the major plot points and just focus on the characters/world, but it's not free from them. Please read on only if you've read the series.
Our main cast of beloved and some tolerated, main/supporting characters grows throughout the series. Although we lose Nehemia, which I am still so sad about - we are introduced to the Fae. Their inclusion in the series brings the genre into high fantasy and makes it even more enjoyable. Prior to this series, I hadn't read many novels in which the supernatural creatures were the Fae but now I am obsessed. The world of the Fae isn't experienced or explained much, but I would love to see more of it. Their powers or abilities are so intriguing and well written. Just enough information is given that you can understand what is going on, then beautifully populate the world and battles in your mind.
Sarah J Maas makes you fall in love with each of the characters, whether you liked them when they were first introduced or not. One of the first perspective shifts we experience is when we are introduced to the bloodthirsty Manon Blackbeak. At first, you wish her scenes weren't there as they take away from time with our main characters but by the fifth novel she's one of the characters you're rooting for. Although she's a witch and over one hundred years old, she is given the ability to develop and change over the course of the novels. It takes time because she's learning that things she believed her entire life aren't true and don't need to affect how she views life.
Even characters that we were originally introduced to, like Lysandre are able to evolve and change over the course of the books. She and Celaena start off butting heads and competing, but that doesn't last. They join together and made a formidable pair (especially once magic is restored to the land). Lysandre grows into one of my favourite characters and her wholehearted commitment to the cause is inspiring.
Seeking more information about the Wyrdkeys, Celaena seeks knowledge from the Fae Queen Maeve. Unwilling to give her information away for nothing, Queen Maeve makes a deal that Celaena must train with and impress one of her trusted warriors, Rowan. Prince Rowan is able to manipulate ice and wind, whilst also transforming into a hawk. Her inner circle are sworn to her with a blood oath and a group of Fae warriors that include Rowan, Lorcan, Gavriel, Vaughen, Fenrys and Connall. Later on, this group is affectionately titled Rowan's cadre and some join our heroes on their journey.
Unsurprisingly, we discover that Celaena is actually the Princess (or Queen) of Terrasen and that revelation brings with it some people from her past. Her cousin, Aedion was forced for years to do the bidding of the King of Adarlan whilst secretly helping his people. He is a general and his legion of warriors called the Bane are loyal to him rather than the King. We also meet another person from Terrasen, the daughter of the woman who sacrificed herself to allow Aelin to escape as a child - Elide. She was mistreated by her Uncle for years, until Manon Blackbeak helped her escape. After only a few days, she crosses paths with Lorcan who is a member of Rowan's cadre and they begin to journey together.
Lorcan is not well liked by Rowan or Aelin when we first come across him in Rifthold. He is still bound to Queen Maeve and is seeking to find and destroy the Wyrdkeys. Throughout his journey across Erilea, he discovers that he has a soft spot for Elide and protects her. Some of the other cadre are viewed in a more favourable light by Aelin and her friends, as they attempt to delay their orders from Maeve to help on the quest.
Sarah J Maas writes the best pairings that fill your heart with so much feeling then she rips it out and stomps all over it. Rowan loves Aelin with his whole heart, every part, the good, the bad, the broken and beaten, the assassin, the Queen, the Fae and no one else has ever done that for her. Their love is true and enduring. Heartwrenching and pure. Even though they didn't start off on the best footing, after training her for a time and even breaking his blood oath to Maeve - Rowan is completely enamored. Plus, they're mates so there's nothing more important and bonding. Each relationship is authentic and pulls at your heartstrings.
Throughout the novels, you are able to experience more of the lands with Erilea from the dark, twisted towers of Morath to the Queen's home of Terrasen. They are welcome additions to our mental maps of the land and wonderfully illustrated through words.
This is one of my favourite series by far and is highly recommended to all - also specifically to young adult readers who enjoy well writen novels with developed characters, immersive world-building and fantasy.
Jordan Binkerd (567 KP) rated Gideon's Angel in Books
Aug 15, 2019
Note: this review is transposted from my personal review blog, and so was originally written several years ago. I figured if I reposted it here, someone might actually read it….
I received my copy of Gideon’s Angel through the Goodreads FirstReads program. This in no way influences my review, except to ensure that I was able to get ahold of this book and thus review it. I have to say, I really enjoyed this one. I want to describe it as “steampunk,” but my understanding is that steampunk is usually set in the 1800s (or at least that level of tech and society) whereas this work is firmly set in 1653. If there’s already a term for pseudo-historical fiction with a fantasy touch set in that timeframe, I apologize for not knowing what it is and using it accordingly.
Things are not going well for Richard Treadwell. The English Civil War is over, the King’s Cavaliers lost to the forces of Parliament and Oliver Cromwell, and Charles I has been executed. Treadwell has managed to escape the destruction of his cause, and has spent the past eight years in exile in France, performing a delicate balancing act between loyalty to his exiled king* and his employer, Cardinal Mazarin. When Mazarin informs him that someone is using the forces of Hell to tip the balance in their favor and asks him to spy on the exile court to find out if it is one of the king’s supporters, Treadwell decides that it’s time to get out of Paris. He accepts a mission for one of the king’s more militant supporters that will take him back to his beloved England–to lead a Royalist uprising, one last try to oust Cromwell and his Puritan cronies. Treadwell has other business to tend to as well, including a wife who by now probably considers herself a widow. Unfortunately for Treadwell’s simple worldview, it soon becomes clear that Cromwell’s power is the only thing preventing the more radical Puritan elements from running roughshod over the whole country. Worse still, a demon from the pits of Hell has appeared to a radical Puritan sect masquerading as an angel of light and ordering the death of Cromwell so that the Kingdom of God may be fulfilled. Now instead of assassinating Cromwell Treadwell will be forced to save him–if he can find a way to fight the forces of Hell, gain some allies in his quest, and avoid d’Artagnan, a young Musketeer dispatched by the Cardinal to bear him back to Paris….
I really enjoyed this book. It’s not exactly “high literature,” but I think I’ve very well established that I care far more about a work’s entertainment value than whatever it is critics look for. The world Beal creates here feels very real, slipping in background historical information without making you feel like you’ve been lectured. Some readers will probably wish for more background on the English Civil War, and that’s fine. If they care that much, there are numerous good books on the subject. If they don’t, there’s a Wikipedia article that should give you a good rundown on what happened. Beal manages to evoke seventeenth-century London in all its grimy glory, much as it would have actually been aside from the fact that all the magic we dismiss as superstition is actually going on behind the scenes. Moreover, this magic very much resembles what you would find depicted in the folklore of the era without obvious modern embellishment. I’m not really all that well versed in the history of the Freemasons, so I can’t accurately speak to how they were portrayed here except to say that I very much doubt their claim to date back to the builders of the pyramids. Then again, I doubt they have the tools to summon demons too, so maybe I shouldn’t be too critical. Secondary characters generally proved to be interestingly complex, especially Billy Chard, but I am seeing criticism of how the female characters in the book act. They aren’t weak characters by any means, but they are constrained by their roles in society. Treadwell’s wife has pragmatically joined her fate to that of the officer who took over Treadwell’s land when he was banished and is pregnant with his child. Is she weak for this? Or is she a strong female doing what she has to in order to protect what is left of her family? Treadwell’s Parisian mistress follows him to England rather than stay in Paris and face the scandal of their liasion alone. Weak, for needing Treadwell by her side? Or strong, for following him into whatever dangers he may be facing? Finally, Isabelle decides to follow her father and the rest of Treadwell’s band into battle against the forces of Darkness, deciding that it would be better to fall by his side than live on without him. Possibly a sign of weakness, but look at her situation realistically. She and her father were driven from Spain for their Jewish heritage, her mother dying along the way. Jews do not fare well in the Christian world of the seventeenth century, not even in England. The lot of a young woman alone in the world is already hard enough in this time without adding the burden of religious and ethnic persecution. She would have no respectable means of supporting herself, and could conceivably find herself forced into prostitution–on her own if she was lucky, as no more than a slave if she was not. Is preferring death in battle to such a fate a sign of weakness or of strength? She certainly has no trouble speaking her mind, and in fact berates Treadwell severely for endangering her father when they first meet. I suppose I can understand where some people would find these characters and their portrayal to be weak and sexist, but I respectfully disagree. I submit that instead they are strong characters reacting realistically to a world where women are not treated equally–in fact, I would have more of a problem with them if they demonstrated anachronistic modern sensibilities.** The ending was a little deus ex machina, but on the whole I didn’t mind. I would say that I want to read a sequel, but I don’t think the author could come up with anything to top this in terms of personal impact on the characters–Treadwell’s internal conflict between hating Cromwell and having to save him is very well done, and I fear Beal would prove unable to find something equally interesting as a follow up. We never really got to find out what happened to Treadwell back during the Thirty Years War that introduced him to the world of angels and demons, so I could see maybe writing that up….I’d buy it, anyway.
CONTENT: R-rated language, occasionally harsh but I would argue not gratuitous. Moderately explicit sexual content, as you would expect from a work in this vein.*** A fair amount of violence, from both man and demon. Not usually too gory in its description. There is also a good deal of occult content, as the villains are summoning a demon they believe to be an angel. This demon’s lesser minions dog Treadwell and his friends, and there are multiple encounters with them. One is implied to be a golem, others appear as strange amalgamations of beast(s) and man. For me, this is adequately balanced by the recognition that, as powerful as the forces of Darkness are, God is far more powerful than they. Bottom line: if you’re mature enough to handle the other content, I don’t believe the occult elements should prove to be an issue.
*Charles I was executed, while his son Charles II went into exile. Just in case you were concerned with the historical accuracy of the book. So far as I can tell, this is pretty accurate. You know, aside from the demons and fictional characters roaming London…..
**Please understand, I’m neither defending nor endorsing the inequality of the seventeenth century. Neither is Clifford Beal, for that matter. I’m simply pointing out that it was how it was, and this was the world the characters would have come from. I’m all for equality, but to whitewash history and pretend it was different from it was….that way lies dangerous waters.
***This evokes more than anything a supernatural-tinged Alexandre Dumas novel for me….and you know how bawdry his musketeers could be when they wanted to be.
Original post: https://jordanbinkerd.wordpress.com/2013/10/24/review-gideons-angel-by-clifford-beal/
I received my copy of Gideon’s Angel through the Goodreads FirstReads program. This in no way influences my review, except to ensure that I was able to get ahold of this book and thus review it. I have to say, I really enjoyed this one. I want to describe it as “steampunk,” but my understanding is that steampunk is usually set in the 1800s (or at least that level of tech and society) whereas this work is firmly set in 1653. If there’s already a term for pseudo-historical fiction with a fantasy touch set in that timeframe, I apologize for not knowing what it is and using it accordingly.
Things are not going well for Richard Treadwell. The English Civil War is over, the King’s Cavaliers lost to the forces of Parliament and Oliver Cromwell, and Charles I has been executed. Treadwell has managed to escape the destruction of his cause, and has spent the past eight years in exile in France, performing a delicate balancing act between loyalty to his exiled king* and his employer, Cardinal Mazarin. When Mazarin informs him that someone is using the forces of Hell to tip the balance in their favor and asks him to spy on the exile court to find out if it is one of the king’s supporters, Treadwell decides that it’s time to get out of Paris. He accepts a mission for one of the king’s more militant supporters that will take him back to his beloved England–to lead a Royalist uprising, one last try to oust Cromwell and his Puritan cronies. Treadwell has other business to tend to as well, including a wife who by now probably considers herself a widow. Unfortunately for Treadwell’s simple worldview, it soon becomes clear that Cromwell’s power is the only thing preventing the more radical Puritan elements from running roughshod over the whole country. Worse still, a demon from the pits of Hell has appeared to a radical Puritan sect masquerading as an angel of light and ordering the death of Cromwell so that the Kingdom of God may be fulfilled. Now instead of assassinating Cromwell Treadwell will be forced to save him–if he can find a way to fight the forces of Hell, gain some allies in his quest, and avoid d’Artagnan, a young Musketeer dispatched by the Cardinal to bear him back to Paris….
I really enjoyed this book. It’s not exactly “high literature,” but I think I’ve very well established that I care far more about a work’s entertainment value than whatever it is critics look for. The world Beal creates here feels very real, slipping in background historical information without making you feel like you’ve been lectured. Some readers will probably wish for more background on the English Civil War, and that’s fine. If they care that much, there are numerous good books on the subject. If they don’t, there’s a Wikipedia article that should give you a good rundown on what happened. Beal manages to evoke seventeenth-century London in all its grimy glory, much as it would have actually been aside from the fact that all the magic we dismiss as superstition is actually going on behind the scenes. Moreover, this magic very much resembles what you would find depicted in the folklore of the era without obvious modern embellishment. I’m not really all that well versed in the history of the Freemasons, so I can’t accurately speak to how they were portrayed here except to say that I very much doubt their claim to date back to the builders of the pyramids. Then again, I doubt they have the tools to summon demons too, so maybe I shouldn’t be too critical. Secondary characters generally proved to be interestingly complex, especially Billy Chard, but I am seeing criticism of how the female characters in the book act. They aren’t weak characters by any means, but they are constrained by their roles in society. Treadwell’s wife has pragmatically joined her fate to that of the officer who took over Treadwell’s land when he was banished and is pregnant with his child. Is she weak for this? Or is she a strong female doing what she has to in order to protect what is left of her family? Treadwell’s Parisian mistress follows him to England rather than stay in Paris and face the scandal of their liasion alone. Weak, for needing Treadwell by her side? Or strong, for following him into whatever dangers he may be facing? Finally, Isabelle decides to follow her father and the rest of Treadwell’s band into battle against the forces of Darkness, deciding that it would be better to fall by his side than live on without him. Possibly a sign of weakness, but look at her situation realistically. She and her father were driven from Spain for their Jewish heritage, her mother dying along the way. Jews do not fare well in the Christian world of the seventeenth century, not even in England. The lot of a young woman alone in the world is already hard enough in this time without adding the burden of religious and ethnic persecution. She would have no respectable means of supporting herself, and could conceivably find herself forced into prostitution–on her own if she was lucky, as no more than a slave if she was not. Is preferring death in battle to such a fate a sign of weakness or of strength? She certainly has no trouble speaking her mind, and in fact berates Treadwell severely for endangering her father when they first meet. I suppose I can understand where some people would find these characters and their portrayal to be weak and sexist, but I respectfully disagree. I submit that instead they are strong characters reacting realistically to a world where women are not treated equally–in fact, I would have more of a problem with them if they demonstrated anachronistic modern sensibilities.** The ending was a little deus ex machina, but on the whole I didn’t mind. I would say that I want to read a sequel, but I don’t think the author could come up with anything to top this in terms of personal impact on the characters–Treadwell’s internal conflict between hating Cromwell and having to save him is very well done, and I fear Beal would prove unable to find something equally interesting as a follow up. We never really got to find out what happened to Treadwell back during the Thirty Years War that introduced him to the world of angels and demons, so I could see maybe writing that up….I’d buy it, anyway.
CONTENT: R-rated language, occasionally harsh but I would argue not gratuitous. Moderately explicit sexual content, as you would expect from a work in this vein.*** A fair amount of violence, from both man and demon. Not usually too gory in its description. There is also a good deal of occult content, as the villains are summoning a demon they believe to be an angel. This demon’s lesser minions dog Treadwell and his friends, and there are multiple encounters with them. One is implied to be a golem, others appear as strange amalgamations of beast(s) and man. For me, this is adequately balanced by the recognition that, as powerful as the forces of Darkness are, God is far more powerful than they. Bottom line: if you’re mature enough to handle the other content, I don’t believe the occult elements should prove to be an issue.
*Charles I was executed, while his son Charles II went into exile. Just in case you were concerned with the historical accuracy of the book. So far as I can tell, this is pretty accurate. You know, aside from the demons and fictional characters roaming London…..
**Please understand, I’m neither defending nor endorsing the inequality of the seventeenth century. Neither is Clifford Beal, for that matter. I’m simply pointing out that it was how it was, and this was the world the characters would have come from. I’m all for equality, but to whitewash history and pretend it was different from it was….that way lies dangerous waters.
***This evokes more than anything a supernatural-tinged Alexandre Dumas novel for me….and you know how bawdry his musketeers could be when they wanted to be.
Original post: https://jordanbinkerd.wordpress.com/2013/10/24/review-gideons-angel-by-clifford-beal/
Hadley (567 KP) rated Stranger Things: Runaway Max in Books
Feb 16, 2020
More of Max & Billy's relationship (1 more)
Max's life in California
Brenna Yovanoff wrote this novel after season two of Stranger Things debuted on Netflix. And it reads exactly like season two, but from Max's point-of-view with some flashbacks of her life before Hawkins mixed in to make a pleasurable meal for the eyes.
Max Mayfield is a pre-teen that just moved to Hawkins, Indiana after her mother remarried and added an abusive step-father and step-brother to the family equation. She spends most of her time trying to not want to fit in with the kids at her new school, riding her trusty skateboard behind the building during recess and telling a group of boys who can't stop staring at her to leave her alone. Max's home life has become unbearable to the point that she debates running back to her real father in California. Fortunately, two of those boys that couldn't stop staring try to be friends with her, but when she begins to hang around them, she learns that things are not what they seem in Hawkins, Indiana. Merging with this group of boys, Max's life is forever changed, and probably for the better.
Runaway Max doesn't focus on the supernatural aspect that Stranger Things is known for. Instead, the focus is on a girl's life that gets turned upside down [pun intended] by the introduction of two abusive people that enter it with the intent of either destroying her or making her compliant, the struggle with who she is and who everyone else says she should be, to the desperation for just one real friend. Personally, I believe Yovanoff did an amazing job at telling Stranger Things fans the backstory of our Mad Max. As a result, I have no complaints about this novel whatsoever.
Yovanoff starts readers off with Max riding her skateboard through downtown Hawkins, with Max telling us how she was happy there was an arcade in this small town. Max wipes out on her skateboard, where a woman who will be very familiar to fans, runs out of a store to help her to her feet until the loud sound of engine comes pulling up; enter Billy and his Camaro. All throughout the story, readers get to see more of what was going on inside the Mayfield/Hargrove's household, which viewers of the series were only witness to one of the abuses happening to Billy by his father.
Runaway Max picks up the pace when a familiar scene happens with Max joining Stranger Things regulars: Lucas and Dustin, for Halloween around Hawkins. But with this story, we follow Max home after Will's encounter with a creature from the Upside Down. We learn that Billy never picked Max up, as he was suppose to, and that his father, Neil, is beyond angry when Billy comes home drunk and high:
" When Billy came slamming into the house, the smell came with him, rolling like the clouds of smoke and alcohol wafting out of a dive bar. Like bad weather. He was stumbling a little. His eyes were red-rimmed and heavier than ever, and he still had the leather jacket on, but he wasn't wearing a shirt. The light from the stained-glass lamp on the end table made him look deranged.
Neil breathed in through his nose and heaved himself out of his chair. 'And where the hell have you been?'
'Nowhere,' Billy muttered, and tried to brush past him, but Neil stepped in front of him and stopped him with a hand on his chest.
'What was that?'
Billy ducked his head and mumbled something about a flat tire. I couldn't tell if he was being honest or not - - - probably not - - - but as soon as he said it, it was pretty obvious that I had been lying. Whatever he'd been doing, it definitely hadn't been giving a school friend a ride home.
Neil had stayed ominously quiet, but now he drew himself up and took a step forward so he had Billy trapped against the wall. 'I'm curious to know where you learned to be so disobedient.'
Billy stared back at him. He was standing with his chin down and his jacket open, looking mutinous. He smelled like beer and the dry-skunk smell of Nate's brother, Silas, and all the other eighth-grade boys who got stoned behind the baseball diamond back home. It was the smell of not caring. 'Bite me, Neil. I'm not in the mood.'
For a second, they just stood looking at each other.
Then Neil spoke in a low, dangerous voice. The air was heavy and metallic, like right before a thunderstorm. 'I don't know where you've been or what you've been up to, but you will show me some respect!'
He shouted the last part. His voice sounded much too big in the smallness of the living room, and I winced, even though I was willing myself not to."
After Max quickly heads to her room to count her Halloween candy...
"Out in the living room, Neil was tuning up. For a while, it was just a rumble of voices, softer sometimes, then louder. There was a short, sharp cry and then a flat, meaty sound, like punching the pocket of a baseball glove. "
Runaway Max does a superb job of detailing abuse and the psychology that plays a role in it. Readers, also, get to see more of Billy's abuse towards Max. Focusing on the shift of personality Billy goes through (those who have watched season three of Stranger Things will have more of an understanding behind Billy, I recommend that if you haven't watched that season yet, that you do after reading this book). While all of this is going on, Yovanoff also retells season two, winding it within Max's story effortlessly and concisely:
"Dustin bent over the table, gazing at the creature in his hands like it was the sweetest, most adorable thing. He kept calling it a he, even though it was so weird and shapeless that how could you tell?
When he saw me staring, he asked if I wanted to hold it, and I shook my head, but he turned and tipped it out of his cupped palms and into mine.
It felt cool and squishy, heavier than it looked, and I passed it to Lucas fast. Lucas handed it off to Will, and it made its way around the circle. I was a little relieved to see that I wasn't the only one shrinking back from it. Will was looking at it like it had some kind of disease, and even Mike didn't exactly seem thrilled to touch it. He was the bravest, though, and held it up for a closer look. "
All-in-all, Runaway Max is season two of Stranger Things to-a-tee. But with Max's relationship with Billy being molded more by this novel, it can make even the most die-hard fans look at the two in a different way. There are even small splotches of scenes where Billy seems to want Max as a little sister, one such, when Max catches him in the garage of their California home, working on his car and smoking a cigarette:
" I leaned forward with my knees on my elbows and cupped my chin in my hands. 'At the health assembly in school, they told us that we're not supposed to smoke.'
Billy straightened and closed the hood, wiping his hands with a rag. 'And do you always do everything your teachers tell you?'
That idea was so wrong it was hilarious. My grades were usually okay, but my conduct cards were a mess. I was always in trouble for something- - - talking back, or drawing cartoon hot rods on my desk with a felt pen. I laughed and shook my head.
That seemed to make him happy. He smiled in a slow, lazy way, then pulled the pack of Parliaments out of his shirt pocket. He held it out to me and waited, watching my face until I took one." When readers get to see the small moments between the two, it hurts more to know that Billy is just an abused young man that is reflecting his father's behavior.
Overall, I really enjoyed Max's story, but was it needed? Before season three, I would have said yes, but with what we learned of Billy in season three, I don't think it was completely necessary. I think only die-hard fans of the show will enjoy this book, otherwise watching the series is the majority of the novel.
Max Mayfield is a pre-teen that just moved to Hawkins, Indiana after her mother remarried and added an abusive step-father and step-brother to the family equation. She spends most of her time trying to not want to fit in with the kids at her new school, riding her trusty skateboard behind the building during recess and telling a group of boys who can't stop staring at her to leave her alone. Max's home life has become unbearable to the point that she debates running back to her real father in California. Fortunately, two of those boys that couldn't stop staring try to be friends with her, but when she begins to hang around them, she learns that things are not what they seem in Hawkins, Indiana. Merging with this group of boys, Max's life is forever changed, and probably for the better.
Runaway Max doesn't focus on the supernatural aspect that Stranger Things is known for. Instead, the focus is on a girl's life that gets turned upside down [pun intended] by the introduction of two abusive people that enter it with the intent of either destroying her or making her compliant, the struggle with who she is and who everyone else says she should be, to the desperation for just one real friend. Personally, I believe Yovanoff did an amazing job at telling Stranger Things fans the backstory of our Mad Max. As a result, I have no complaints about this novel whatsoever.
Yovanoff starts readers off with Max riding her skateboard through downtown Hawkins, with Max telling us how she was happy there was an arcade in this small town. Max wipes out on her skateboard, where a woman who will be very familiar to fans, runs out of a store to help her to her feet until the loud sound of engine comes pulling up; enter Billy and his Camaro. All throughout the story, readers get to see more of what was going on inside the Mayfield/Hargrove's household, which viewers of the series were only witness to one of the abuses happening to Billy by his father.
Runaway Max picks up the pace when a familiar scene happens with Max joining Stranger Things regulars: Lucas and Dustin, for Halloween around Hawkins. But with this story, we follow Max home after Will's encounter with a creature from the Upside Down. We learn that Billy never picked Max up, as he was suppose to, and that his father, Neil, is beyond angry when Billy comes home drunk and high:
" When Billy came slamming into the house, the smell came with him, rolling like the clouds of smoke and alcohol wafting out of a dive bar. Like bad weather. He was stumbling a little. His eyes were red-rimmed and heavier than ever, and he still had the leather jacket on, but he wasn't wearing a shirt. The light from the stained-glass lamp on the end table made him look deranged.
Neil breathed in through his nose and heaved himself out of his chair. 'And where the hell have you been?'
'Nowhere,' Billy muttered, and tried to brush past him, but Neil stepped in front of him and stopped him with a hand on his chest.
'What was that?'
Billy ducked his head and mumbled something about a flat tire. I couldn't tell if he was being honest or not - - - probably not - - - but as soon as he said it, it was pretty obvious that I had been lying. Whatever he'd been doing, it definitely hadn't been giving a school friend a ride home.
Neil had stayed ominously quiet, but now he drew himself up and took a step forward so he had Billy trapped against the wall. 'I'm curious to know where you learned to be so disobedient.'
Billy stared back at him. He was standing with his chin down and his jacket open, looking mutinous. He smelled like beer and the dry-skunk smell of Nate's brother, Silas, and all the other eighth-grade boys who got stoned behind the baseball diamond back home. It was the smell of not caring. 'Bite me, Neil. I'm not in the mood.'
For a second, they just stood looking at each other.
Then Neil spoke in a low, dangerous voice. The air was heavy and metallic, like right before a thunderstorm. 'I don't know where you've been or what you've been up to, but you will show me some respect!'
He shouted the last part. His voice sounded much too big in the smallness of the living room, and I winced, even though I was willing myself not to."
After Max quickly heads to her room to count her Halloween candy...
"Out in the living room, Neil was tuning up. For a while, it was just a rumble of voices, softer sometimes, then louder. There was a short, sharp cry and then a flat, meaty sound, like punching the pocket of a baseball glove. "
Runaway Max does a superb job of detailing abuse and the psychology that plays a role in it. Readers, also, get to see more of Billy's abuse towards Max. Focusing on the shift of personality Billy goes through (those who have watched season three of Stranger Things will have more of an understanding behind Billy, I recommend that if you haven't watched that season yet, that you do after reading this book). While all of this is going on, Yovanoff also retells season two, winding it within Max's story effortlessly and concisely:
"Dustin bent over the table, gazing at the creature in his hands like it was the sweetest, most adorable thing. He kept calling it a he, even though it was so weird and shapeless that how could you tell?
When he saw me staring, he asked if I wanted to hold it, and I shook my head, but he turned and tipped it out of his cupped palms and into mine.
It felt cool and squishy, heavier than it looked, and I passed it to Lucas fast. Lucas handed it off to Will, and it made its way around the circle. I was a little relieved to see that I wasn't the only one shrinking back from it. Will was looking at it like it had some kind of disease, and even Mike didn't exactly seem thrilled to touch it. He was the bravest, though, and held it up for a closer look. "
All-in-all, Runaway Max is season two of Stranger Things to-a-tee. But with Max's relationship with Billy being molded more by this novel, it can make even the most die-hard fans look at the two in a different way. There are even small splotches of scenes where Billy seems to want Max as a little sister, one such, when Max catches him in the garage of their California home, working on his car and smoking a cigarette:
" I leaned forward with my knees on my elbows and cupped my chin in my hands. 'At the health assembly in school, they told us that we're not supposed to smoke.'
Billy straightened and closed the hood, wiping his hands with a rag. 'And do you always do everything your teachers tell you?'
That idea was so wrong it was hilarious. My grades were usually okay, but my conduct cards were a mess. I was always in trouble for something- - - talking back, or drawing cartoon hot rods on my desk with a felt pen. I laughed and shook my head.
That seemed to make him happy. He smiled in a slow, lazy way, then pulled the pack of Parliaments out of his shirt pocket. He held it out to me and waited, watching my face until I took one." When readers get to see the small moments between the two, it hurts more to know that Billy is just an abused young man that is reflecting his father's behavior.
Overall, I really enjoyed Max's story, but was it needed? Before season three, I would have said yes, but with what we learned of Billy in season three, I don't think it was completely necessary. I think only die-hard fans of the show will enjoy this book, otherwise watching the series is the majority of the novel.