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Hazel (1853 KP) rated Kids of Appetite in Books
Dec 14, 2018
<i>This ARC was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review
They lived and they laughed and they saw that it was good.</i>
<i>Mosquitoland </i>was the best book I read last year (2015) and I was excited to discover what David Arnold would write next. I approached<i> Kids of Appetite</i> with mild trepidation; what if it did not live up to my expectations? Need not have worried – it was brilliant. Dubbed a “tragicomedy” <i>Kids of Appetite</i> is a combination of realistic, heartbreaking experiences with intellectual humour.
The book opens mid interview at a local police station where two teenagers, Vic and Mad, are being questioned about a murder their friend has supposedly committed. From there, the story backtracks a week and proceeds to bring the reader up to date. It all begins with Vic running away from home, distancing himself from his mother and her new partner. By chance, a coincidence – a bump, Vic would say – he is found by Mad who introduces him to a small group of homeless friends. Vic may not have packed in preparation for life on the streets – or in a greenhouse as it turns out – however he did grab the urn containing his late father’s ashes before racing out of the house. Along with the urn is a letter containing cryptic clues that lead to various locations that Vic’s father wished for his ashes to be scattered. He, along with his new found friends; make it a mission to put his father to rest.
It is not possible to label the general theme of the book. <i>Kids of Appetite</i> is a story full of stories. Each character has their own past, something that led them to the situation they find themselves in now. The group consists of five members – once Vic has been accepted. Baz, at age twenty-seven, is clearly the leader: responsible, caring, and fatherly – until accused of murder. Seven years younger is Zuz, Baz’s mute brother, and finally Coco, an eleven year old with the mouth of a foul old lady. It is Coco, amongst all her swearing and hilarious misuse of words, that coins the name <i>Kids of Appetite, KOA</i> for short, a play on words: they are not solely in want of food, they hunger for life.
Initially it would appear that the main focus will be on Vic: his father’s death, his mother’s new partner, Moebius (facial paralysis) – a syndrome that results in a lot of bullying and discrimination – and, of course, his flight from home. However the remaining members of <i>KOA </i>equally contribute to the overall narrative. Mad, like Vic, knows what it is like to lose a father. Unfortunately she also knows what it is like to lose a mother. Her life since the fateful car crash that left her and orphan has been full of abuse and uncertainty. Baz and Zuz, on the other hand, have escaped a traumatizing childhood in the midst of the Congo Civil War.
Similarly with <i>Mosquitoland</i>, Arnold’s second book is full of intellectual knowledge and humour complete with references to highbrow material. Vic is obsessed with an operatic song and deeply interested in abstract art, particularly Matisse. He pulls the artist’s work apart in search of meaning and relatable truths of life. Like Vic, Mad has a particular song she draws comfort from. The lyrics help her make sense of the world around her, and produce her own manifesto – Madifesto, rather. She is particularly fascinated by S E Hinton’s <i>The Outsiders</i> – a book I have not read, but am obviously going to now. With in-depth theories purloined from her favourite novel, she encourages and advises those around her.
The murder investigation is evidently another key point of the book. I do not want to say too much on the matter as it would not be fair to give the ending away. Be reassured that<i> Kids of Appetite</i> is not a thriller, crime or horror novel; it is the events and dialogue leading up to the conclusion that make up the greatest parts of the story.
It is essentially the characters that make <i>Kids of Appetite</i> such a fantastic work of fiction. Their background stories are all based on real life experiences of many people throughout the world, but it is their opinion of life, their terminology, and their reckless enthusiasm that really impacts the reader. <i>Kids of Appetite</i> is a book to be read over and over again. So many phrases can be lifted and quoted to explain our own lives and feelings. In fact, the entire novel is one big quote to sum up life itself. Although there are so many themes, stories and ideas, there is one clear message. Let go. Let go of the past. Let go of the things that hold you back. For Vic and Mad it is the death of their parents; for Coco it is abandonment; and Baz and Zuz learn to let go of their violent childhood.
David Arnold is an extremely talented author, seamlessly flowing from one notion to another, whilst sweeping the reader into a sea of pure emotion. He may over use the word “ergo” and have an unconventional penchant for ellipses, but that only adds to the uniqueness of the writing. There may be an excessive amount of expletives, however that is overshadowed by the pure genius of the story itself. <i>Kids of Appetite</i> is a book I want to recommend to all. The blurb likens it to authors Rainbow Rowell and Jennifer Niven – I would like to throw John Green into the mix – and should appeal to many Young Adult readers. I could write forever about this book, but I would rather you go and read it yourself. And whilst you read, remember:
<i>They lived and they laughed and they saw that it was good. </i>
They lived and they laughed and they saw that it was good.</i>
<i>Mosquitoland </i>was the best book I read last year (2015) and I was excited to discover what David Arnold would write next. I approached<i> Kids of Appetite</i> with mild trepidation; what if it did not live up to my expectations? Need not have worried – it was brilliant. Dubbed a “tragicomedy” <i>Kids of Appetite</i> is a combination of realistic, heartbreaking experiences with intellectual humour.
The book opens mid interview at a local police station where two teenagers, Vic and Mad, are being questioned about a murder their friend has supposedly committed. From there, the story backtracks a week and proceeds to bring the reader up to date. It all begins with Vic running away from home, distancing himself from his mother and her new partner. By chance, a coincidence – a bump, Vic would say – he is found by Mad who introduces him to a small group of homeless friends. Vic may not have packed in preparation for life on the streets – or in a greenhouse as it turns out – however he did grab the urn containing his late father’s ashes before racing out of the house. Along with the urn is a letter containing cryptic clues that lead to various locations that Vic’s father wished for his ashes to be scattered. He, along with his new found friends; make it a mission to put his father to rest.
It is not possible to label the general theme of the book. <i>Kids of Appetite</i> is a story full of stories. Each character has their own past, something that led them to the situation they find themselves in now. The group consists of five members – once Vic has been accepted. Baz, at age twenty-seven, is clearly the leader: responsible, caring, and fatherly – until accused of murder. Seven years younger is Zuz, Baz’s mute brother, and finally Coco, an eleven year old with the mouth of a foul old lady. It is Coco, amongst all her swearing and hilarious misuse of words, that coins the name <i>Kids of Appetite, KOA</i> for short, a play on words: they are not solely in want of food, they hunger for life.
Initially it would appear that the main focus will be on Vic: his father’s death, his mother’s new partner, Moebius (facial paralysis) – a syndrome that results in a lot of bullying and discrimination – and, of course, his flight from home. However the remaining members of <i>KOA </i>equally contribute to the overall narrative. Mad, like Vic, knows what it is like to lose a father. Unfortunately she also knows what it is like to lose a mother. Her life since the fateful car crash that left her and orphan has been full of abuse and uncertainty. Baz and Zuz, on the other hand, have escaped a traumatizing childhood in the midst of the Congo Civil War.
Similarly with <i>Mosquitoland</i>, Arnold’s second book is full of intellectual knowledge and humour complete with references to highbrow material. Vic is obsessed with an operatic song and deeply interested in abstract art, particularly Matisse. He pulls the artist’s work apart in search of meaning and relatable truths of life. Like Vic, Mad has a particular song she draws comfort from. The lyrics help her make sense of the world around her, and produce her own manifesto – Madifesto, rather. She is particularly fascinated by S E Hinton’s <i>The Outsiders</i> – a book I have not read, but am obviously going to now. With in-depth theories purloined from her favourite novel, she encourages and advises those around her.
The murder investigation is evidently another key point of the book. I do not want to say too much on the matter as it would not be fair to give the ending away. Be reassured that<i> Kids of Appetite</i> is not a thriller, crime or horror novel; it is the events and dialogue leading up to the conclusion that make up the greatest parts of the story.
It is essentially the characters that make <i>Kids of Appetite</i> such a fantastic work of fiction. Their background stories are all based on real life experiences of many people throughout the world, but it is their opinion of life, their terminology, and their reckless enthusiasm that really impacts the reader. <i>Kids of Appetite</i> is a book to be read over and over again. So many phrases can be lifted and quoted to explain our own lives and feelings. In fact, the entire novel is one big quote to sum up life itself. Although there are so many themes, stories and ideas, there is one clear message. Let go. Let go of the past. Let go of the things that hold you back. For Vic and Mad it is the death of their parents; for Coco it is abandonment; and Baz and Zuz learn to let go of their violent childhood.
David Arnold is an extremely talented author, seamlessly flowing from one notion to another, whilst sweeping the reader into a sea of pure emotion. He may over use the word “ergo” and have an unconventional penchant for ellipses, but that only adds to the uniqueness of the writing. There may be an excessive amount of expletives, however that is overshadowed by the pure genius of the story itself. <i>Kids of Appetite</i> is a book I want to recommend to all. The blurb likens it to authors Rainbow Rowell and Jennifer Niven – I would like to throw John Green into the mix – and should appeal to many Young Adult readers. I could write forever about this book, but I would rather you go and read it yourself. And whilst you read, remember:
<i>They lived and they laughed and they saw that it was good. </i>
Ivana A. | Diary of Difference (1171 KP) rated Romanov in Books
Oct 5, 2020
From the author of Fawkes comes a magical take on the story of Anastasia Romanov.
The history books say I died.
They don’t know the half of it.
Ever since I read Fawkes, I knew I loved Nadine’s writing, and when Romanov was announced, I couldn’t be happier. As I have spend my childhood and young adult life in the Balkans, whilst travelling across Europe, I have always admired Russia, and always enjoyed reading all the theories about the Romanov family.
As a child I would be told stories and fairy tales, I would watch the Disney adaptation of Anastasia, and as I was growing up, I would read history books and fiction on this very subject. When I got my hands on ‘’Romanov’’, I knew I would be up for an adventure, with lots of expectations, but what I never knew was that I would be blown away of how beautiful this book is!
This book is split into two main parts, before and after the Romanov’s execution, but it is also split into the first being the historical part, and the second being the fictional part. Both parts of the book are quite intense, and very different emotions come up to surface, but they are both very powerful throughout, and fitted together quite well.
In the first part, we are introduced to the Romanov family, and how they are kept as hostages by the Bolsheviks. It would’ve been much better if we had more details on the pre-hostage period, why the revolution began, why the king abducted the throne, who are the Bolsheviks and what they believed in. The book starts in the middle of this whole situation, and whilst I knew the beginning before, I am certain a lot of people wouldn’t have.
The history, as much accurate as it was, also had a personalized feeling that the author wanted to give. I have to admit, a lot of the details, especially around the family were quite accurate. The family did stick together and loved each other, they did have secrets and they did make friends with their captors. Anastasia’s brother did indeed had hemophilia and Rasputin was allegedly helping him. However, the author decided to put her personal feelings into the history as well. The king is presented as a wonderful leader that cares about the people. I understand that we see this story from Anastasia’s point of view, and as his daughter, she is supposed to see her father as the best figure in the world. But I still believe this part should be more objective, if not from Anastasia’s point of view, then at least by the king’s actions and dialogues. The other big element that bothered me was the portrayal of Rasputin. He is shown in this book as a family helper and a kind man, when in fact, he was far from that. In the history books, he is described as a madman, a creepy person, and the king was not happy of him coming in the house. The family’s secrecy and the queen’s silent domination over the king, together with Rasputin’s doings were the start of the revolution, and I believe that it one of the required truths that this books should have included, but didn’t. And that troubled me.
On top of this, is the Russian language used throughout this book. There were a lot of spelling errors, and misinterpretations. And whilst I can understand these words, many people can’t, and translation wasn’t provided in the book. Also, I really found this quote interesting, talking about the Russian culture, and how they don’t show emotions. Just a note – this is most of the time true, people won’t be nice to strangers, but actually, Russian people are quite friendly and emotional as well.
‘’We Russians weren’t required to share any amount of emotion we didn’t want to.’’
Apart from these few things that slightly bothered me, I really enjoyed this book. Anastasia is an amazing character, and through her we can see her love towards her family, her country, and even towards the people that wish her harm. We get to see her love, cry, be hurt, be afraid, forgive, and grow throughout the book, and her journey was magical.
‘’As I lay in the grass next to the spell that could rid me of heart pain, I realized that a part of forgiveness was accepting the things someone had done – and the pain that came with that – and moving on with love. Forgiveness was a personal battle that must always be fought in my heart.’’
I loved the beginning of the book the most. The setting was well-written, and I got the feel the same way as the Romanov family did. They tried to act as if everything was normal, when in fact, they were held captive, and moved out of their home. They weren’t allowed to go out in the garden often, and when they did have this opportunity, they enjoyed every single second of it. And they all had hope every single day. They kept smiling and stayed together.
There are number of scenes that will always stay close to my heart – the relationship between Zash and Anastasia (as unrealistic as it might be), always kept me on my toes, his desperation, and his guilt, and her ability to forgive and love regardless.
The brother’s illness, and his persistence through it. His motivation and his will to never give up. The love he holds for his family, and especially his sister Anastasia, and the toughness and not letting go. A few scenes were unrealistic with him, as I hardly believe anyone suffering from hemophilia can survive all those injuries mentioned in the book and the pools of blood, but above all – this character did achieve what he was meant to do – show hope where there is none.
A wonderful and magical tale, with a history behind it of a mysterious family, especially their end – this book brought tears on my eyes and made me think about the power of forgiveness and love. A true masterpiece.
Thank you to Nadine Brandes, for letting me be a part of her Ninja Team.
The history books say I died.
They don’t know the half of it.
Ever since I read Fawkes, I knew I loved Nadine’s writing, and when Romanov was announced, I couldn’t be happier. As I have spend my childhood and young adult life in the Balkans, whilst travelling across Europe, I have always admired Russia, and always enjoyed reading all the theories about the Romanov family.
As a child I would be told stories and fairy tales, I would watch the Disney adaptation of Anastasia, and as I was growing up, I would read history books and fiction on this very subject. When I got my hands on ‘’Romanov’’, I knew I would be up for an adventure, with lots of expectations, but what I never knew was that I would be blown away of how beautiful this book is!
This book is split into two main parts, before and after the Romanov’s execution, but it is also split into the first being the historical part, and the second being the fictional part. Both parts of the book are quite intense, and very different emotions come up to surface, but they are both very powerful throughout, and fitted together quite well.
In the first part, we are introduced to the Romanov family, and how they are kept as hostages by the Bolsheviks. It would’ve been much better if we had more details on the pre-hostage period, why the revolution began, why the king abducted the throne, who are the Bolsheviks and what they believed in. The book starts in the middle of this whole situation, and whilst I knew the beginning before, I am certain a lot of people wouldn’t have.
The history, as much accurate as it was, also had a personalized feeling that the author wanted to give. I have to admit, a lot of the details, especially around the family were quite accurate. The family did stick together and loved each other, they did have secrets and they did make friends with their captors. Anastasia’s brother did indeed had hemophilia and Rasputin was allegedly helping him. However, the author decided to put her personal feelings into the history as well. The king is presented as a wonderful leader that cares about the people. I understand that we see this story from Anastasia’s point of view, and as his daughter, she is supposed to see her father as the best figure in the world. But I still believe this part should be more objective, if not from Anastasia’s point of view, then at least by the king’s actions and dialogues. The other big element that bothered me was the portrayal of Rasputin. He is shown in this book as a family helper and a kind man, when in fact, he was far from that. In the history books, he is described as a madman, a creepy person, and the king was not happy of him coming in the house. The family’s secrecy and the queen’s silent domination over the king, together with Rasputin’s doings were the start of the revolution, and I believe that it one of the required truths that this books should have included, but didn’t. And that troubled me.
On top of this, is the Russian language used throughout this book. There were a lot of spelling errors, and misinterpretations. And whilst I can understand these words, many people can’t, and translation wasn’t provided in the book. Also, I really found this quote interesting, talking about the Russian culture, and how they don’t show emotions. Just a note – this is most of the time true, people won’t be nice to strangers, but actually, Russian people are quite friendly and emotional as well.
‘’We Russians weren’t required to share any amount of emotion we didn’t want to.’’
Apart from these few things that slightly bothered me, I really enjoyed this book. Anastasia is an amazing character, and through her we can see her love towards her family, her country, and even towards the people that wish her harm. We get to see her love, cry, be hurt, be afraid, forgive, and grow throughout the book, and her journey was magical.
‘’As I lay in the grass next to the spell that could rid me of heart pain, I realized that a part of forgiveness was accepting the things someone had done – and the pain that came with that – and moving on with love. Forgiveness was a personal battle that must always be fought in my heart.’’
I loved the beginning of the book the most. The setting was well-written, and I got the feel the same way as the Romanov family did. They tried to act as if everything was normal, when in fact, they were held captive, and moved out of their home. They weren’t allowed to go out in the garden often, and when they did have this opportunity, they enjoyed every single second of it. And they all had hope every single day. They kept smiling and stayed together.
There are number of scenes that will always stay close to my heart – the relationship between Zash and Anastasia (as unrealistic as it might be), always kept me on my toes, his desperation, and his guilt, and her ability to forgive and love regardless.
The brother’s illness, and his persistence through it. His motivation and his will to never give up. The love he holds for his family, and especially his sister Anastasia, and the toughness and not letting go. A few scenes were unrealistic with him, as I hardly believe anyone suffering from hemophilia can survive all those injuries mentioned in the book and the pools of blood, but above all – this character did achieve what he was meant to do – show hope where there is none.
A wonderful and magical tale, with a history behind it of a mysterious family, especially their end – this book brought tears on my eyes and made me think about the power of forgiveness and love. A true masterpiece.
Thank you to Nadine Brandes, for letting me be a part of her Ninja Team.
Hadley (567 KP) rated Those Bones Are Not My Child in Books
Nov 12, 2019
A different type of True Crime book (1 more)
Things you probably didn't know about the case
Writing transitions are confusing (1 more)
Smash poetry breaks up the flow
Toni Cade Bambara, a writer, documentary filmmaker and screenwriter, gives True Crime readers a unique viewpoint of the real Atlanta Child Murders. Bambara mostly writes from the eyes of Marzala, a mother of three whose oldest son goes missing during one of the worst murder sprees in Atlanta's history. Marzala and her family were not actual people during this time- - - all of them are based off of parents and siblings of the real victims. Not soon after Marzala does everything she can with the police to find her son, she joins a group of African-Americans that are outraged by the lack of progress to catch who is killing Atlanta's black children. This group forms what is called STOP (a citizen-run task force). For the majority of the book, Marzala with most of the black community in the area typed out letters to prominent government officials asking for help to stop the murders, also using Vietnam vets in the area to use their tracking skills to keep an eye on suspects, and investigating buildings that police refused to believe had anything to do with the childrens' disappearances and/or murders, which Bambara did an amazing job putting all the real facts together of the actual community members that were involved with this at the time. This story is upsetting, but enlightening on how politics may have caused so many children to be murdered. This is a story no reader will ever forget.
Bambara writes not in a normal narrative - - - just telling a story from specific viewpoints, but she often breaks off into smash poetry to depict a character's state-of-mind, which, sometimes can be off putting for the reader, breaking the flow of the story. Yet, the use of smash poetry combined with the era and the heart breaking subject at hand, separates Those Bones Are Not My Child from every True Crime book I have ever read. But a note for fans of True Crime, this story is from the view point of the victims' families and the search they went through to try and catch the murderer(s), unlike most TC books, which follow the police through the investigation leading to, usually, the capture of the perpetrator. From living in Atlanta during the time of the murders, Bambara was able to reconstruct the life of a black family in 1980's Georgia, while focusing on the effect these terrible crimes had on the surrounding community. Bambara did an amazing job on what most writers cannot.
The amount of characters, specifically the fictional ones, are very well created. She describes just enough to give readers the ability to tell them apart, showing every now and then from their own viewpoints. Out of all the characters, I came to really like Zala's two other children: Kenti and Kofi. One particular scene shows the strain of Sonny's disappearance on their family: " Zala parked the comb again and sat back. 'Listen, you two.' Kofi dropped down onto his knees. 'The police and the newspapers don't know what the hell is going on, so they feel stupid, because they're supposed to know, they're trained to know, they're paid to know. It's their job. Understand? But it's hard for grown-ups to admit they're stupid, especially if they're professionals like police and reporters. So they blame the children. Or they ignore them and fill up the papers with the hostages in Iran. Understand? And now... Jesus... they've got people calling those kids juvenile delinquents.'
'Don't cry.' Kenti tried to lean into her lap and got pushed away.
'They don't know a damn thing and they act like they don't want to know. So they blame the kids 'cause they can't speak up for themselves. They say the kids had no business being outdoors, getting themselves in trouble.'
'You let us go outdoors.'
'Of course I do, baby. We go lots of places, 'cause a lot of people fought hard for our right to go any damn where we please. But when the children go out like they've a right to and some maniac grabs them, then it's the children's fault or the parents who should've been watching every minute, like we don't have to work like dogs just to put food on the table.'
Kofi walked on his knees towards the bed, but he didn't lean on her like he wanted 'cause she might push him away. So he just put his hand on the mattress next to hers."
During the Atlanta Child Murders, victims were random, except for that they were children from the same neighborhood, and they were African-American. At first, police didn't believe a serial murderer was going around abducting children, but rather that 'poor, broken' families were killing their own. In the Prologue, Bambara shows that the victims' families and private detectives came up with more ideas of the motive than the police did:
" White cops taking license in Black neighborhoods.
The Klan and other Nazi thugs on the rampage.
Diabolical scientists experimenting on Third World people.
Demonic cults engaging in human sacrifices.
A 'Nam vet unable to make the transition.
UFO aliens conducting exploratory surgery.
Whites avenging Dewey Baugus, a white youth beaten to death in spring '79, allegedly by Black youths.
Parents of a raped child running amok with 'justice.'
Porno filmmakers doing snuff flicks for entertainment.
A band of child molesters covering their tracks.
New drug forces killing the young (unwitting?) couriers of the old in a bid for turf.
Unreconstructed peckerwoods trying to topple the Black administration.
Plantation kidnappers of slave labor issuing the pink slip.
White mercenaries using Black targets to train death squadrons for overseas jobs and for domestic wars to come. "
All of these theories are explored with evidence in Those Bones Are Not My Child. One scene in Part III, Zala's cop friend, B.J. shows up to her house to tell her to stop bringing attention to the investigation, " 'That Eubanks woman - - - your husband's friend? - - - she said you were bringing in the TV networks to blow the case open. I thought we had an agreement to keep each other informed. This morning I find out through the grapevine that you parents got a medium stashed in a hotel here in town, some woman who's been making headlines up north with cases that supposedly have the authorities stumped. If you knew how much work has been done on this case - - - no, listen, don't interrupt me. Then I find out - - - and not from you - - - that some of you parents are planning to tour the country cracking on the investigation. That's not too smart. And you should have told me.' " These two may have been fictional characters, but in Bambara's Acknowledgments, she states that all scenarios were true, and that she made B.J. to tell about the actual police officers who were involved with the investigation.
The tension between the police and the public is felt throughout the entire story. Despite all of the work the citizen task force put in, police arrested a man named Wayne Williams for the murder of two adult victims (who, due to their mental age, which was stated to be that of children, were placed on the victims' list of the Atlanta Child Murders): " Wayne Williams, charged with the murder of twenty-seven-year-old Nathaniel Cater and implicated in the murder of the other adults and children on the official list..." Zala, having worked for almost a year at the STOP offices, she, along with most of the community, doubt that Williams was a lone killer or even the killer at all. Williams never stood trial for the childrens' murders, but the police informed the public that he did it, case closed - - - although, after Williams' arrest, children were still being abducted and their bodies were still being found. Even after Williams' trial and the guilty verdict for two adult victims, some people stuck around to continue to investigate and claim Williams a 'scapegoat' of politics: " There were still pockets of interest and people who wouldn't let the case go. James Baldwin had been coming to town off and on; a book was rumored. Sondra O'Neale, the Emory University professor, hadn't abandoned her research, either. From time to time, TV and movie types were in the city poking around for an angle. Camille Bell was moving to Tallahassee to write up the case from the point of view of the STOP committee. The vets had taken over The Call now that Speaker was working full-time with the Central American Committee. The Revolutionary Communist Party kept running pieces on the case in the Revolutionary Worker. Whenever Abby Mann sent down a point man for his proposed TV docudrama, the Atlanta officials and civil rights leaders would go off the deep end. " At the end of it all, the questions still remain: did Williams kill all of those children by himself? Was he part of a pornographic cult that killed the children? Or is Williams completely innocent, and the murderer(s) are still out there? In Those Bones Are Not My Child, I guarantee you will be left questioning if the police were right.
All in all, the writing transitions can become confusing sometimes, especially the interludes of smash poetry, but I highly recommend this book to people who like the True Crime genre, especially of any interest in this specific case.
Bambara writes not in a normal narrative - - - just telling a story from specific viewpoints, but she often breaks off into smash poetry to depict a character's state-of-mind, which, sometimes can be off putting for the reader, breaking the flow of the story. Yet, the use of smash poetry combined with the era and the heart breaking subject at hand, separates Those Bones Are Not My Child from every True Crime book I have ever read. But a note for fans of True Crime, this story is from the view point of the victims' families and the search they went through to try and catch the murderer(s), unlike most TC books, which follow the police through the investigation leading to, usually, the capture of the perpetrator. From living in Atlanta during the time of the murders, Bambara was able to reconstruct the life of a black family in 1980's Georgia, while focusing on the effect these terrible crimes had on the surrounding community. Bambara did an amazing job on what most writers cannot.
The amount of characters, specifically the fictional ones, are very well created. She describes just enough to give readers the ability to tell them apart, showing every now and then from their own viewpoints. Out of all the characters, I came to really like Zala's two other children: Kenti and Kofi. One particular scene shows the strain of Sonny's disappearance on their family: " Zala parked the comb again and sat back. 'Listen, you two.' Kofi dropped down onto his knees. 'The police and the newspapers don't know what the hell is going on, so they feel stupid, because they're supposed to know, they're trained to know, they're paid to know. It's their job. Understand? But it's hard for grown-ups to admit they're stupid, especially if they're professionals like police and reporters. So they blame the children. Or they ignore them and fill up the papers with the hostages in Iran. Understand? And now... Jesus... they've got people calling those kids juvenile delinquents.'
'Don't cry.' Kenti tried to lean into her lap and got pushed away.
'They don't know a damn thing and they act like they don't want to know. So they blame the kids 'cause they can't speak up for themselves. They say the kids had no business being outdoors, getting themselves in trouble.'
'You let us go outdoors.'
'Of course I do, baby. We go lots of places, 'cause a lot of people fought hard for our right to go any damn where we please. But when the children go out like they've a right to and some maniac grabs them, then it's the children's fault or the parents who should've been watching every minute, like we don't have to work like dogs just to put food on the table.'
Kofi walked on his knees towards the bed, but he didn't lean on her like he wanted 'cause she might push him away. So he just put his hand on the mattress next to hers."
During the Atlanta Child Murders, victims were random, except for that they were children from the same neighborhood, and they were African-American. At first, police didn't believe a serial murderer was going around abducting children, but rather that 'poor, broken' families were killing their own. In the Prologue, Bambara shows that the victims' families and private detectives came up with more ideas of the motive than the police did:
" White cops taking license in Black neighborhoods.
The Klan and other Nazi thugs on the rampage.
Diabolical scientists experimenting on Third World people.
Demonic cults engaging in human sacrifices.
A 'Nam vet unable to make the transition.
UFO aliens conducting exploratory surgery.
Whites avenging Dewey Baugus, a white youth beaten to death in spring '79, allegedly by Black youths.
Parents of a raped child running amok with 'justice.'
Porno filmmakers doing snuff flicks for entertainment.
A band of child molesters covering their tracks.
New drug forces killing the young (unwitting?) couriers of the old in a bid for turf.
Unreconstructed peckerwoods trying to topple the Black administration.
Plantation kidnappers of slave labor issuing the pink slip.
White mercenaries using Black targets to train death squadrons for overseas jobs and for domestic wars to come. "
All of these theories are explored with evidence in Those Bones Are Not My Child. One scene in Part III, Zala's cop friend, B.J. shows up to her house to tell her to stop bringing attention to the investigation, " 'That Eubanks woman - - - your husband's friend? - - - she said you were bringing in the TV networks to blow the case open. I thought we had an agreement to keep each other informed. This morning I find out through the grapevine that you parents got a medium stashed in a hotel here in town, some woman who's been making headlines up north with cases that supposedly have the authorities stumped. If you knew how much work has been done on this case - - - no, listen, don't interrupt me. Then I find out - - - and not from you - - - that some of you parents are planning to tour the country cracking on the investigation. That's not too smart. And you should have told me.' " These two may have been fictional characters, but in Bambara's Acknowledgments, she states that all scenarios were true, and that she made B.J. to tell about the actual police officers who were involved with the investigation.
The tension between the police and the public is felt throughout the entire story. Despite all of the work the citizen task force put in, police arrested a man named Wayne Williams for the murder of two adult victims (who, due to their mental age, which was stated to be that of children, were placed on the victims' list of the Atlanta Child Murders): " Wayne Williams, charged with the murder of twenty-seven-year-old Nathaniel Cater and implicated in the murder of the other adults and children on the official list..." Zala, having worked for almost a year at the STOP offices, she, along with most of the community, doubt that Williams was a lone killer or even the killer at all. Williams never stood trial for the childrens' murders, but the police informed the public that he did it, case closed - - - although, after Williams' arrest, children were still being abducted and their bodies were still being found. Even after Williams' trial and the guilty verdict for two adult victims, some people stuck around to continue to investigate and claim Williams a 'scapegoat' of politics: " There were still pockets of interest and people who wouldn't let the case go. James Baldwin had been coming to town off and on; a book was rumored. Sondra O'Neale, the Emory University professor, hadn't abandoned her research, either. From time to time, TV and movie types were in the city poking around for an angle. Camille Bell was moving to Tallahassee to write up the case from the point of view of the STOP committee. The vets had taken over The Call now that Speaker was working full-time with the Central American Committee. The Revolutionary Communist Party kept running pieces on the case in the Revolutionary Worker. Whenever Abby Mann sent down a point man for his proposed TV docudrama, the Atlanta officials and civil rights leaders would go off the deep end. " At the end of it all, the questions still remain: did Williams kill all of those children by himself? Was he part of a pornographic cult that killed the children? Or is Williams completely innocent, and the murderer(s) are still out there? In Those Bones Are Not My Child, I guarantee you will be left questioning if the police were right.
All in all, the writing transitions can become confusing sometimes, especially the interludes of smash poetry, but I highly recommend this book to people who like the True Crime genre, especially of any interest in this specific case.
Eilidh G Clark (177 KP) rated The Panopticon in Books
May 13, 2017
This is my all time favouurite book.
Jenny Fagan stated in an interview in 2013 that prior to writing the novel The Panopticon (2012) she had one question, ‘is it possible to achieve autonomy?’ Fagan explores this question throughout her novel with the character of Anais Hendrix. I would also suggest that the author is metaphorically exploring whether Scotland can achieve autonomy as an independent nation. Autonomy, in relation to the individual, is self-governance- or being able to decide for oneself
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Hottest Blood: The Ultimate in Erotic Horror in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Hottest Blood: The Ultimate in Erotic Horror is Neither of Those Things
(I’m gonna go ahead and throw a disclaimer on up here: You are about to read something that deals with purportedly “erotic” subject matter. If you don’t like the sound of that word, you might wanna go elsewhere. If it’s actually-erotic things that offend you, though, you’ll be fine.)
I like short story compilations because you get a variety of content that’s just as easy to breeze through if you have the time as it is to get to a stopping point and put down if you don’t. I like horror fiction because it usually involves the super-natural, which interests me, and intense emotional responses, which are almost always a good thing in writing. And I like eroticism because I am a warm-blooded human being with a pulse. However, on the whole, I do not like Hottest Blood.
I wanted to, I did. Look at that cover. It’s equal amounts scary and sexy, both in completely safe, PG-13-at-most kind of ways. Unfortunately, Softcore Succubus here is both the scariest and the sexiest thing about this book
Bluntly analogized, you know that feeling you get when you come across something on the internet that disturbs and/or disgusts you, and then you learn that there’s a dedicated group of people that gets off on it? Most of the stories in this book are that feeling captured in words.
Case in point, the story “Damaged Goods” by Elizabeth Massie, which as far as I can tell is about a couple of physically abused, emotionally damaged, developmentally stunted kids somewhere around their early teens who live with a religious fringe cult being led out to a field to have sex with each other while a nameless U.S. President watches and masturbates before both kids are drowned in a river by their preacher/pimp caretaker.
Or there’s “Mr. Right” by Chris Lacher, which tells the story of a college student named Russ who has a secret fetish for the deformed women in the freak show at a nearby carnival – a fascination which leads to him getting held down and forcibly raped by a group of unwashed subhuman mutants, which the detailed descriptions make sure you understand are completely revolting to all five senses. The story ends with him being dumped out behind the fairgrounds while a small, legless girl happily informs him that this is how all carnival workers reproduce, and he can look forward to seeing his own mutant rape-spawn in the show next year.
Or there’s “Abuse” by Matthew Costello, which simply shows us how the arrest of a Peewee Herman surrogate goes down in an adult movie theater before ending with another man jerking off with the cold, dry, severed hand in his pocket as he contemplates getting a new one to replace it.
The tone of these three are pretty much par for the course for the rest of the book: thoroughly disturbing, and sex is involved, but the disturbing feeling stems from revulsion rather than fear, and the sex bits are so far on the other end of the spectrum from erotic that it feels like the authors are trying to punish their readers for even expecting to be aroused in any way.
Of course, I said myself earlier that intense emotional responses are “almost always a good thing in writing.” By that merit alone, this book technically succeeds; in fact, if it had billed itself as shock fiction instead of erotic horror, I’d begrudgingly give it a medal in its class. The “aw, what the hell?!” moments are not as artistically executed as, say, a Chuck Palahniuk read, and they tend not to have as much depth to them, but strictly in terms of making you wish that you could unread words, they get the job done.
But that isn’t the job that Hottest Blood was hired to do, and that’s not what it put on its resume. It said it was going to “heat the blood and chill the mind,” and promised that “terror never felt this sexy!” It would have been more appropriate to say that “sex never felt this terrible.”
All of that said, if you abandon any hope of seeing anything resembling erotica or horror (scary horror, anyway), there are a few stories in here that are decent reads – mostly because they try to say something with their subject matter rather than use it to see how thoroughly they can ruin the idea of sex for the reader. To give a few quick nods of approval:
Nancy Holder’s “I Hear the Mermaids Singing,” which opens the anthology, is a dark and modern re-imagining of “The Little Mermaid” that brutally points up the drawbacks to throwing away your whole life and family in order to pursue someone that you know nothing about outside of a few fleeting glimpses and lustful inner fantasies.
J.L. Comeau’s “Black Cars” is the narrative of a high-class chauffeur as he tells his passenger an increasingly mysterious story about a couple of his regular customers, culminating in a creepy twist payoff that, in retrospect, actually makes it count as a legitimate horror story, and a decently gripping one at that.
And “Safe at Home” by Steve and Melanie Tem, while decidedly and disturbingly unsexy, at least has good reason to be; it’s a short character study of a young woman who’d been molested as a child, and the lasting and complex psychological damage resulting thereof that prevents her from having any normal social life or relationships, even with someone whom she legitimately likes, someone who knows what’s happened and sincerely cares for her.
So for the handful of intriguing stories that don’t make you quit (or wish you had) mid-read out of revolted disappointment, I can’t completely condemn Hottest Blood. If you want to test your own threshold for repulsion but are understandably hesitant to use online image searches to this end, I heartily recommend it.
If you are legitimately turned on by the idea of a man eating a woman alive and then gestating her alien spawn inside his own bloated body until his head detaches and crawls away (“How Deep the Taste of Love,” John Shirley), I suppose I still heartily recommend it, though I do so from a safe distance.
If you want to read one of the few stories involved that aren’t horrible, I heartily recommend trying to find them on their own somewhere else first.
But if you want “the ultimate in erotic horror,” stay the hell away. Softcore Succubus is a trap.
I like short story compilations because you get a variety of content that’s just as easy to breeze through if you have the time as it is to get to a stopping point and put down if you don’t. I like horror fiction because it usually involves the super-natural, which interests me, and intense emotional responses, which are almost always a good thing in writing. And I like eroticism because I am a warm-blooded human being with a pulse. However, on the whole, I do not like Hottest Blood.
I wanted to, I did. Look at that cover. It’s equal amounts scary and sexy, both in completely safe, PG-13-at-most kind of ways. Unfortunately, Softcore Succubus here is both the scariest and the sexiest thing about this book
Bluntly analogized, you know that feeling you get when you come across something on the internet that disturbs and/or disgusts you, and then you learn that there’s a dedicated group of people that gets off on it? Most of the stories in this book are that feeling captured in words.
Case in point, the story “Damaged Goods” by Elizabeth Massie, which as far as I can tell is about a couple of physically abused, emotionally damaged, developmentally stunted kids somewhere around their early teens who live with a religious fringe cult being led out to a field to have sex with each other while a nameless U.S. President watches and masturbates before both kids are drowned in a river by their preacher/pimp caretaker.
Or there’s “Mr. Right” by Chris Lacher, which tells the story of a college student named Russ who has a secret fetish for the deformed women in the freak show at a nearby carnival – a fascination which leads to him getting held down and forcibly raped by a group of unwashed subhuman mutants, which the detailed descriptions make sure you understand are completely revolting to all five senses. The story ends with him being dumped out behind the fairgrounds while a small, legless girl happily informs him that this is how all carnival workers reproduce, and he can look forward to seeing his own mutant rape-spawn in the show next year.
Or there’s “Abuse” by Matthew Costello, which simply shows us how the arrest of a Peewee Herman surrogate goes down in an adult movie theater before ending with another man jerking off with the cold, dry, severed hand in his pocket as he contemplates getting a new one to replace it.
The tone of these three are pretty much par for the course for the rest of the book: thoroughly disturbing, and sex is involved, but the disturbing feeling stems from revulsion rather than fear, and the sex bits are so far on the other end of the spectrum from erotic that it feels like the authors are trying to punish their readers for even expecting to be aroused in any way.
Of course, I said myself earlier that intense emotional responses are “almost always a good thing in writing.” By that merit alone, this book technically succeeds; in fact, if it had billed itself as shock fiction instead of erotic horror, I’d begrudgingly give it a medal in its class. The “aw, what the hell?!” moments are not as artistically executed as, say, a Chuck Palahniuk read, and they tend not to have as much depth to them, but strictly in terms of making you wish that you could unread words, they get the job done.
But that isn’t the job that Hottest Blood was hired to do, and that’s not what it put on its resume. It said it was going to “heat the blood and chill the mind,” and promised that “terror never felt this sexy!” It would have been more appropriate to say that “sex never felt this terrible.”
All of that said, if you abandon any hope of seeing anything resembling erotica or horror (scary horror, anyway), there are a few stories in here that are decent reads – mostly because they try to say something with their subject matter rather than use it to see how thoroughly they can ruin the idea of sex for the reader. To give a few quick nods of approval:
Nancy Holder’s “I Hear the Mermaids Singing,” which opens the anthology, is a dark and modern re-imagining of “The Little Mermaid” that brutally points up the drawbacks to throwing away your whole life and family in order to pursue someone that you know nothing about outside of a few fleeting glimpses and lustful inner fantasies.
J.L. Comeau’s “Black Cars” is the narrative of a high-class chauffeur as he tells his passenger an increasingly mysterious story about a couple of his regular customers, culminating in a creepy twist payoff that, in retrospect, actually makes it count as a legitimate horror story, and a decently gripping one at that.
And “Safe at Home” by Steve and Melanie Tem, while decidedly and disturbingly unsexy, at least has good reason to be; it’s a short character study of a young woman who’d been molested as a child, and the lasting and complex psychological damage resulting thereof that prevents her from having any normal social life or relationships, even with someone whom she legitimately likes, someone who knows what’s happened and sincerely cares for her.
So for the handful of intriguing stories that don’t make you quit (or wish you had) mid-read out of revolted disappointment, I can’t completely condemn Hottest Blood. If you want to test your own threshold for repulsion but are understandably hesitant to use online image searches to this end, I heartily recommend it.
If you are legitimately turned on by the idea of a man eating a woman alive and then gestating her alien spawn inside his own bloated body until his head detaches and crawls away (“How Deep the Taste of Love,” John Shirley), I suppose I still heartily recommend it, though I do so from a safe distance.
If you want to read one of the few stories involved that aren’t horrible, I heartily recommend trying to find them on their own somewhere else first.
But if you want “the ultimate in erotic horror,” stay the hell away. Softcore Succubus is a trap.
"The door slid open and Clarke knew it was time to die." What a way to start the book. Kass Morgan dives right into her storyline with an in-your-face opener. It took a bit of time before I, as the reader realized what this book was about. She began by setting up a number of characters, switching between perspectives, to quickly introduce you to the players. Those people who will have the biggest impact upon the storyline.
Each character is thrown into the mix, destined to be sent to Earth. The first in a long, long time. While not all make it, we are still treated with back stories and past relationships. Had the author not included those scenes, her characters would have been much more difficult to relate to. You come to briefly understand what the person goes through, exactly why he/she is so angry and hurt, and what they each did to become subjected to the fate of the 100. Personally, I would have preferred that greater attention had been given to character development rather than relationship development.
The Earth was unlivable for so long, and yet they send these 100 "children" as guinea pigs, rather than trained professionals. People who could colonize, build shelters, feed the colony, study the land and environment, or even tend to the ill. Instead, these youths are forced to come together with a common goal - survival.
One gets to a certain point in the novel and then realizes they don't entirely know what these different living situations/names mean. Of course, the Walden and Arcadian people seem to be of a lower class, economic, and social standing than the Phoenix. Walden also had an outbreak at one point that had to be quarantined. But beyond that? I'm not entirely sure what the distinctions are. Clearly the Phoenix people are "posh", with foreign accents, prone to extravagances and taking what they have for granted. But how did they come to be in that, dare I say, caste to begins with? Were people settled based upon their original locations on Earth? Or perhaps based upon the money/knowledge they could provide? Unfortunately, that aspect of the story is not very clearly explained. It seems that the author took more time to focus on the intricacies of the relationships than the world building.
Sometimes the author was redundant, choosing to repeat the same fears/desire over and over again. Yes, we understand that the medicine is missing. Was it flung from the ship before the crash or during? Can they survive without it? We don't know yet, but if we didn't realize the medicine was important the first time it was mentioned... We certainly realized it after the tenth.
This book has a very unique concept in that it combines the post-apocalyptic Hunger Games or Divergent-type Earth with space. While it may exist in other novels, I've not yet read something similar. Where it does seem to follow typical YA novels is the fact that it has a love triangle. Those seem like they are a requirement, as they are in most popular young adult novels. (HG, Divergent, TMI, Vampire Diaries, etc.)
There is a bit of mystery in the book as well. It seems that the reason one of the characters is arrested must be kept a secret, even from the reader. The author continuously has the girl think to herself, 'Why isn't he asking me about my confinement?', 'He's happy, this is for the best [that he doesn't know.]', and even has her love interest say "I heard a rumor about a girl on Phoenix who was arrested for..." Yes, there was a dramatic pause. And no, he does not finish his sentence. After the third or fourth time, the author finally reveals the girl's situation during a flashback.
Throughout the novel, the author develops the relationship between two main characters. Unfortunately, it's a bit jarring and sporadic. It quickly jumps from bitter hatred from the moment they step foot on Earth to reconciliation after one act, then back to hatred. Again, after one act. While relationships can be a roller coaster, this is a bit too authentic to the carnival ride.
The relationship is not perfect, especially when she has a second possible love interest. A guy who after only a short while, thinks of only her before he falls asleep. That girl must be something. The first time they really spend any time together, he decides that making out is the best course of action. Much to the dismay of her other love interest, though it does not dissuade him. Sound familiar?
It doesn't take long before he snaps at her and their brief... Whatever it was is over. Or is it?
They must be masochists, because it seems they're just gluttons for punishment and emotional, gut wrenching hurt... Or just those that don't learn from history. (Doomed to repeat it and all that.) Who would continuously subject themselves to that kind of torment? Move on and let yourself heal. It's not a post-apocalyptic world that only the two of you can repopulate... There are other individuals in camp with you. (Like the second guy you may or may not like, but that you certainly make out with in the woods.) But that's just my perspective.
While I found myself bemused and skeptical at times about certain aspects of the book, none of those times corresponded to the purposefully exaggerated environment that they must adapt to on Earth. Rather it is the progression of relationships, situations characters find themselves in, and utterly disastrous karmic intervention. Seriously, they must have really messed with the world for it to so perfectly separate two lovers as it does.
I suspected there would be a particular plot twist and unsurprisingly it came to fruition approximately 98% of the way through the book. I'm intrigued to see where the author takes it and how it will develop in the sequel - The 100: Day
21 (which is next on my review list!)
I find myself enjoying the read, dispute the obvious flaws one notices whilst reading it. If you take it as an easy, enjoyable read - then that is what you will come away with. If you expect it to be a fantastic piece that delves into the human psyche to truly draw you into a character's life and relationships - then you will be quite disappointed. Overall, I would recommend this novel to those who enjoy dystopian, teen romance series.
Each character is thrown into the mix, destined to be sent to Earth. The first in a long, long time. While not all make it, we are still treated with back stories and past relationships. Had the author not included those scenes, her characters would have been much more difficult to relate to. You come to briefly understand what the person goes through, exactly why he/she is so angry and hurt, and what they each did to become subjected to the fate of the 100. Personally, I would have preferred that greater attention had been given to character development rather than relationship development.
The Earth was unlivable for so long, and yet they send these 100 "children" as guinea pigs, rather than trained professionals. People who could colonize, build shelters, feed the colony, study the land and environment, or even tend to the ill. Instead, these youths are forced to come together with a common goal - survival.
One gets to a certain point in the novel and then realizes they don't entirely know what these different living situations/names mean. Of course, the Walden and Arcadian people seem to be of a lower class, economic, and social standing than the Phoenix. Walden also had an outbreak at one point that had to be quarantined. But beyond that? I'm not entirely sure what the distinctions are. Clearly the Phoenix people are "posh", with foreign accents, prone to extravagances and taking what they have for granted. But how did they come to be in that, dare I say, caste to begins with? Were people settled based upon their original locations on Earth? Or perhaps based upon the money/knowledge they could provide? Unfortunately, that aspect of the story is not very clearly explained. It seems that the author took more time to focus on the intricacies of the relationships than the world building.
Sometimes the author was redundant, choosing to repeat the same fears/desire over and over again. Yes, we understand that the medicine is missing. Was it flung from the ship before the crash or during? Can they survive without it? We don't know yet, but if we didn't realize the medicine was important the first time it was mentioned... We certainly realized it after the tenth.
This book has a very unique concept in that it combines the post-apocalyptic Hunger Games or Divergent-type Earth with space. While it may exist in other novels, I've not yet read something similar. Where it does seem to follow typical YA novels is the fact that it has a love triangle. Those seem like they are a requirement, as they are in most popular young adult novels. (HG, Divergent, TMI, Vampire Diaries, etc.)
There is a bit of mystery in the book as well. It seems that the reason one of the characters is arrested must be kept a secret, even from the reader. The author continuously has the girl think to herself, 'Why isn't he asking me about my confinement?', 'He's happy, this is for the best [that he doesn't know.]', and even has her love interest say "I heard a rumor about a girl on Phoenix who was arrested for..." Yes, there was a dramatic pause. And no, he does not finish his sentence. After the third or fourth time, the author finally reveals the girl's situation during a flashback.
Throughout the novel, the author develops the relationship between two main characters. Unfortunately, it's a bit jarring and sporadic. It quickly jumps from bitter hatred from the moment they step foot on Earth to reconciliation after one act, then back to hatred. Again, after one act. While relationships can be a roller coaster, this is a bit too authentic to the carnival ride.
The relationship is not perfect, especially when she has a second possible love interest. A guy who after only a short while, thinks of only her before he falls asleep. That girl must be something. The first time they really spend any time together, he decides that making out is the best course of action. Much to the dismay of her other love interest, though it does not dissuade him. Sound familiar?
It doesn't take long before he snaps at her and their brief... Whatever it was is over. Or is it?
They must be masochists, because it seems they're just gluttons for punishment and emotional, gut wrenching hurt... Or just those that don't learn from history. (Doomed to repeat it and all that.) Who would continuously subject themselves to that kind of torment? Move on and let yourself heal. It's not a post-apocalyptic world that only the two of you can repopulate... There are other individuals in camp with you. (Like the second guy you may or may not like, but that you certainly make out with in the woods.) But that's just my perspective.
While I found myself bemused and skeptical at times about certain aspects of the book, none of those times corresponded to the purposefully exaggerated environment that they must adapt to on Earth. Rather it is the progression of relationships, situations characters find themselves in, and utterly disastrous karmic intervention. Seriously, they must have really messed with the world for it to so perfectly separate two lovers as it does.
I suspected there would be a particular plot twist and unsurprisingly it came to fruition approximately 98% of the way through the book. I'm intrigued to see where the author takes it and how it will develop in the sequel - The 100: Day
21 (which is next on my review list!)
I find myself enjoying the read, dispute the obvious flaws one notices whilst reading it. If you take it as an easy, enjoyable read - then that is what you will come away with. If you expect it to be a fantastic piece that delves into the human psyche to truly draw you into a character's life and relationships - then you will be quite disappointed. Overall, I would recommend this novel to those who enjoy dystopian, teen romance series.
Dana (24 KP) rated Vanishing Girls in Books
Mar 23, 2018
I am not sure why I keep being surprised at how good books are, especially since I have read some of these authors before! This book is no different. I was thinking this book would be just okay, nothing too memorable, but I was so wrong! Oh, and I got to meet Lauren Oliver at Yallwest 2015! She was so sweet and signed my book!!
This book is interesting in its set up. It is told in a "Before and After" story line by two characters: Dara and Nick. There are also some photographs and some blog post type pages which were really interesting.
So I am going to try to write whenever there is a large spoiler, but there may be some minor plot points written throughout. So look out for SPOILERS in the review if you want to skip those.
Okay, so I'm going to start off with talking about the three main characters: Dara, Nick, and Parker.
Nick is the main character of this book and, honestly, she was very interesting. She seems quite detached throughout a good part of the book, specifically the first half. I did not like either of the sisters at first, if I am being completely honest. But then I grew to partially understand both of them separately. Nick is emotionally distant because, as seen in the beginning of the book, she sees herself as needing to be the responsible one out of the two sisters. Where Dara is wildness and spontaneity, Nick is the reserved older sister who has to keep her sister in line. Nick, however, is not all she seems. It is known that there was a bad car accident that happened before the book started, but none of the details were really disclosed. Neither person involved really wanted to talk about it. SPOILERS ARE IN THE REST OF THIS PARAGRAPH!! I wasn't a fan of how Nick treated both Dara and Parker. For Dara, it can easily be understood why she wouldn't want to talk to Nick. I would be pretty upset if that was my situation as well, but Nick seemed like she was just being petty. With Parker, she was unfair. Yes, they had been best friends and then he started dating her sister, but they were still best friends. She could have at least tried to talk to him about her feelings, but no. She didn't.
Dara was a very complex character. It seemed as if she would rebel just to do it and to see if she could get a rise out of her sister and/or her parents. She is wild and reckless because she needs to try to distance herself from her sister's shadow. I totally understand that (even if I would not take that path myself). I think her story arc was very interesting, to say the least. I will go more into the plot points a bit later, though.
Parker was just a guy who was caught in a tough situation. Yes, he was dumb in putting himself in that situation, but he seemed like a pretty good guy all in all. I enjoyed his story line because he grounded the other characters in the real world.
Okay, now onto the plot. THERE WILL BE SPOILERS IN THE REST OF THE REVIEW EXCEPT FOR THE LAST PARAGRAPH. IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED, SKIP DOWN FOR MY FINAL THOUGHTS ON THE BOOK.
Okay, so the plot. Oh my goodness, that was a good story. I really liked the complexity and all of the little connections throughout the two time lines.
Let's start with the "before." We get to see a lot of how Nick and Dara's relationship had disintegrated the closer to the accident we get. I loved getting it intermittent between the "after" sections because sometimes it made the previous chapter more clear, but a lot of the time, it convoluted it just enough to keep me intrigued. Each moment up to the accident felt like it had more tension because you, as the reader, knew what was coming, but not necessarily when or how. I do wish, however, we got more of the accident itself. That would have been pretty cool.
Now onto the "after." Wow. If you want a really complex story line that you won't see coming, read this book. That freaking plot twist was not something I called, and I am normally really good at calling them! I think I was too preoccupied trying to figure out what happened in the accident to see all of the signs (and there were a lot of them) of the truth of what happened. I loved how Lauren Oliver was able to explore mental health issues that we don't normally get to see in a young adult novel. The post-traumatic stress is usually shown as being withdrawn, not all of the other symptoms that may be possible in the human mind. I don't even necessarily want to touch on the FanLand plot line because it's pretty self explanatory. I did like how those were bright moments in the otherwise very dark story. I could go on and on about this section, but I'll keep it short. If you want to talk to me more about my thoughts on it, then feel free to message me about it!
Madeline Snow's story line was really cool. Not what happened to her, of course, that was super messed up, but the unraveling of what happened was crazy! Oh, and the disappearance actually happened on my birthday. Super random fact, but hey, at least it's interesting? Okay, lets start with the fact that there was a semi-sex trafficking ring going on and that wasn't even the highlight of the book. You know it is an intense book when that happens. I thought it was really interesting that Nick's mom was so enraptured with the case, because instead of noticing her daughter's struggles, she is focused on a stranger. I do like how it ended, us learning about the truth of the accident while learning about the truth of Madeline's disappearance because they were very interconnected! I am very thankful of how it truly ended happily rather than a very horrible possibility.
Overall, I was highly impressed by this book. As I said, this has become one of my favorite books of the year! If you enjoy thriller, suspense, or mystery books, definitely check this one out!
This book is interesting in its set up. It is told in a "Before and After" story line by two characters: Dara and Nick. There are also some photographs and some blog post type pages which were really interesting.
So I am going to try to write whenever there is a large spoiler, but there may be some minor plot points written throughout. So look out for SPOILERS in the review if you want to skip those.
Okay, so I'm going to start off with talking about the three main characters: Dara, Nick, and Parker.
Nick is the main character of this book and, honestly, she was very interesting. She seems quite detached throughout a good part of the book, specifically the first half. I did not like either of the sisters at first, if I am being completely honest. But then I grew to partially understand both of them separately. Nick is emotionally distant because, as seen in the beginning of the book, she sees herself as needing to be the responsible one out of the two sisters. Where Dara is wildness and spontaneity, Nick is the reserved older sister who has to keep her sister in line. Nick, however, is not all she seems. It is known that there was a bad car accident that happened before the book started, but none of the details were really disclosed. Neither person involved really wanted to talk about it. SPOILERS ARE IN THE REST OF THIS PARAGRAPH!! I wasn't a fan of how Nick treated both Dara and Parker. For Dara, it can easily be understood why she wouldn't want to talk to Nick. I would be pretty upset if that was my situation as well, but Nick seemed like she was just being petty. With Parker, she was unfair. Yes, they had been best friends and then he started dating her sister, but they were still best friends. She could have at least tried to talk to him about her feelings, but no. She didn't.
Dara was a very complex character. It seemed as if she would rebel just to do it and to see if she could get a rise out of her sister and/or her parents. She is wild and reckless because she needs to try to distance herself from her sister's shadow. I totally understand that (even if I would not take that path myself). I think her story arc was very interesting, to say the least. I will go more into the plot points a bit later, though.
Parker was just a guy who was caught in a tough situation. Yes, he was dumb in putting himself in that situation, but he seemed like a pretty good guy all in all. I enjoyed his story line because he grounded the other characters in the real world.
Okay, now onto the plot. THERE WILL BE SPOILERS IN THE REST OF THE REVIEW EXCEPT FOR THE LAST PARAGRAPH. IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE SPOILED, SKIP DOWN FOR MY FINAL THOUGHTS ON THE BOOK.
Okay, so the plot. Oh my goodness, that was a good story. I really liked the complexity and all of the little connections throughout the two time lines.
Let's start with the "before." We get to see a lot of how Nick and Dara's relationship had disintegrated the closer to the accident we get. I loved getting it intermittent between the "after" sections because sometimes it made the previous chapter more clear, but a lot of the time, it convoluted it just enough to keep me intrigued. Each moment up to the accident felt like it had more tension because you, as the reader, knew what was coming, but not necessarily when or how. I do wish, however, we got more of the accident itself. That would have been pretty cool.
Now onto the "after." Wow. If you want a really complex story line that you won't see coming, read this book. That freaking plot twist was not something I called, and I am normally really good at calling them! I think I was too preoccupied trying to figure out what happened in the accident to see all of the signs (and there were a lot of them) of the truth of what happened. I loved how Lauren Oliver was able to explore mental health issues that we don't normally get to see in a young adult novel. The post-traumatic stress is usually shown as being withdrawn, not all of the other symptoms that may be possible in the human mind. I don't even necessarily want to touch on the FanLand plot line because it's pretty self explanatory. I did like how those were bright moments in the otherwise very dark story. I could go on and on about this section, but I'll keep it short. If you want to talk to me more about my thoughts on it, then feel free to message me about it!
Madeline Snow's story line was really cool. Not what happened to her, of course, that was super messed up, but the unraveling of what happened was crazy! Oh, and the disappearance actually happened on my birthday. Super random fact, but hey, at least it's interesting? Okay, lets start with the fact that there was a semi-sex trafficking ring going on and that wasn't even the highlight of the book. You know it is an intense book when that happens. I thought it was really interesting that Nick's mom was so enraptured with the case, because instead of noticing her daughter's struggles, she is focused on a stranger. I do like how it ended, us learning about the truth of the accident while learning about the truth of Madeline's disappearance because they were very interconnected! I am very thankful of how it truly ended happily rather than a very horrible possibility.
Overall, I was highly impressed by this book. As I said, this has become one of my favorite books of the year! If you enjoy thriller, suspense, or mystery books, definitely check this one out!
Hadley (567 KP) rated A Luminous Republic in Books
Aug 13, 2020
Well-written (1 more)
Unpredictable
Andres Barba's A Luminous Republic has feral children, senseless murders, and a plot that keeps the story moving enough that the reader won't want to put the book down. This story creatively combines politics, murder, fear and family - - - but the best part is, the book is unpredictable.
We first meet our main character, whose name is never given throughout the entire story, when he and his family are moving to San Cristobal because of a job opportunity. He works for the Department of Social Affairs, and has just received a promotion because he has come up with a very successful plan: " I had developed a social integration program for indigenous communities. The idea was simple and the program proved to be an effective model; it consisted of granting the indigenous exclusive rights to farm certain specific product." Our main character believes that this plan will bring the farmers more money. And he is more than happy to go back to the city where he fell in-love with his now wife, Maia - - - a violin teacher who had a daughter before meeting him, who he calls 'girl' throughout the story because she is also named Maia.
While on his way to work one day, our main character comes across one of the unknown children of the jungle, which shakes him up a bit. The unknown jungle children were known to beg at street lights for money and food, but one of the grimy, frizzy-haired boys stared the man down, only to end up giving him a very wide smile. "The boy's smile unsettled me because it confirmed that there had been a connection between us, that something had begun in me ended in him." Pretty soon after, he begins to notice these unknown jungle children running around a lot more, and that sometimes their intentions are not always innocent - - - he and the 'girl' witness an elderly woman get robbed of her groceries by a group of these children in the middle of the street in a subtle but violent way.
The unknown jungle children soon begin to rob several people,and when a police officer is killed while being attacked by them, the Mayor and the police want the children off the streets as soon as possible. Working with our main character, the former and the latter try to figure out the strange language these children use, whom may be the leader among them, and where they disappear to at night. Since the story is being told from our main character's past, the book is written like a True Crime story, with names of professionals and such being cited throughout. Our main character brings up a woman, who was a young girl at the time of the jungle children's invasion on San Cristobal: Teresa Otano, who happened to 'publish' her diary from that time, which gives readers insights into the jungle children: "Often, some of the thirty-two [jungle children], on their nightly journey back to the jungle, congregated next to Teresa's house, on one corner of Antartida Avenue. At first, Teresa, enthralled, simply makes notes, logging the days on which they appeared, whether there were three, four or five of them, what they were wearing, and so forth. She establishes patterns and identifies a few of the kids..." our main character explains to the reader.
But soon, the children cross a line that they can never come back from; being told by our main character from the view of surveillance video tapes, he describes to us that the jungle children entered a supermarket after an incident with a guard that works there, they block the entrance doors and begin to destroy items throughout the store, but the chaos quickly escalates, and two adults are murdered by the children - - - fear now holds the town in its grip, causing search parties to sweep through the dense jungle after the children fled.
But murder wasn't something new to San Cristobal, our main character explains to us that the suburbs of this area usually had a murder a week all year long, and that on the outskirts of the jungle, there were known spots for drug trafficking and assaults. What made the 'Dakota Supermarket' murders scare the town was that the residents' own children began to behave differently afterwards - - - they start to play a 'game' where they put their ears to the ground, believing that they can hear the jungle children talking to them. Our main character even walks in on the 'girl' playing this exact game. "For a second it was as if I were witnessing a ritual invented by a twelve-year-old girl, and I thought of how afraid my daughter must have felt when I found her in the bathroom that day. People often remark on the self-assured quality of the invocation, its instruction-manual tone, but I'd say that its intensity actually stems from what it dispenses: adult logic, a world that no longer serves. How could our children possibly have explained to us what they were doing? We weren't prepared for their world or their logic. Somewhere out there, underground, that dissonant sound was being sent, in code: down below, chaos. "
This phenomenon attracts the attention of money/fame seekers, which includes the Zapata children. Four siblings, ranging from the ages of five to nine, claimed that the jungle children were speaking to them through their dreams. They would make drawings from what they were told by the jungle children, but state that even they didn't know what the drawings meant. The media quickly jumped on them and put them in front of a camera, causing the family's home to be surrounded by civilians at all hours of the day and night. One night, the crowd outside becomes anxious, and breaks into the house, stealing not only the drawings from the Zapata children, but also the life savings of the family. At this point, the Zapatas had had enough, and retreat from the story altogether for reasons I won't disclose here. I can't give away much more of the book without ruining the story.
Barba's attempt at making a different kind of Lord of the Flies was done well, but the lack of emotion is felt throughout the entire story which makes the characters flat, especially our main character, who I didn't find likable in any such way. He calls a grieving woman a 'whore,' and he seems rude towards his family, especially his step-daughter.
A Luminous Republic is redeemed by is unpredictability, which is something that doesn't come along in fiction that often anymore. I enjoyed that the story was written like a True Crime novel, with fictitious documentaries, news reports and books. So, I would recommend this book to people who like True Crime and Mysteries.
We first meet our main character, whose name is never given throughout the entire story, when he and his family are moving to San Cristobal because of a job opportunity. He works for the Department of Social Affairs, and has just received a promotion because he has come up with a very successful plan: " I had developed a social integration program for indigenous communities. The idea was simple and the program proved to be an effective model; it consisted of granting the indigenous exclusive rights to farm certain specific product." Our main character believes that this plan will bring the farmers more money. And he is more than happy to go back to the city where he fell in-love with his now wife, Maia - - - a violin teacher who had a daughter before meeting him, who he calls 'girl' throughout the story because she is also named Maia.
While on his way to work one day, our main character comes across one of the unknown children of the jungle, which shakes him up a bit. The unknown jungle children were known to beg at street lights for money and food, but one of the grimy, frizzy-haired boys stared the man down, only to end up giving him a very wide smile. "The boy's smile unsettled me because it confirmed that there had been a connection between us, that something had begun in me ended in him." Pretty soon after, he begins to notice these unknown jungle children running around a lot more, and that sometimes their intentions are not always innocent - - - he and the 'girl' witness an elderly woman get robbed of her groceries by a group of these children in the middle of the street in a subtle but violent way.
The unknown jungle children soon begin to rob several people,and when a police officer is killed while being attacked by them, the Mayor and the police want the children off the streets as soon as possible. Working with our main character, the former and the latter try to figure out the strange language these children use, whom may be the leader among them, and where they disappear to at night. Since the story is being told from our main character's past, the book is written like a True Crime story, with names of professionals and such being cited throughout. Our main character brings up a woman, who was a young girl at the time of the jungle children's invasion on San Cristobal: Teresa Otano, who happened to 'publish' her diary from that time, which gives readers insights into the jungle children: "Often, some of the thirty-two [jungle children], on their nightly journey back to the jungle, congregated next to Teresa's house, on one corner of Antartida Avenue. At first, Teresa, enthralled, simply makes notes, logging the days on which they appeared, whether there were three, four or five of them, what they were wearing, and so forth. She establishes patterns and identifies a few of the kids..." our main character explains to the reader.
But soon, the children cross a line that they can never come back from; being told by our main character from the view of surveillance video tapes, he describes to us that the jungle children entered a supermarket after an incident with a guard that works there, they block the entrance doors and begin to destroy items throughout the store, but the chaos quickly escalates, and two adults are murdered by the children - - - fear now holds the town in its grip, causing search parties to sweep through the dense jungle after the children fled.
But murder wasn't something new to San Cristobal, our main character explains to us that the suburbs of this area usually had a murder a week all year long, and that on the outskirts of the jungle, there were known spots for drug trafficking and assaults. What made the 'Dakota Supermarket' murders scare the town was that the residents' own children began to behave differently afterwards - - - they start to play a 'game' where they put their ears to the ground, believing that they can hear the jungle children talking to them. Our main character even walks in on the 'girl' playing this exact game. "For a second it was as if I were witnessing a ritual invented by a twelve-year-old girl, and I thought of how afraid my daughter must have felt when I found her in the bathroom that day. People often remark on the self-assured quality of the invocation, its instruction-manual tone, but I'd say that its intensity actually stems from what it dispenses: adult logic, a world that no longer serves. How could our children possibly have explained to us what they were doing? We weren't prepared for their world or their logic. Somewhere out there, underground, that dissonant sound was being sent, in code: down below, chaos. "
This phenomenon attracts the attention of money/fame seekers, which includes the Zapata children. Four siblings, ranging from the ages of five to nine, claimed that the jungle children were speaking to them through their dreams. They would make drawings from what they were told by the jungle children, but state that even they didn't know what the drawings meant. The media quickly jumped on them and put them in front of a camera, causing the family's home to be surrounded by civilians at all hours of the day and night. One night, the crowd outside becomes anxious, and breaks into the house, stealing not only the drawings from the Zapata children, but also the life savings of the family. At this point, the Zapatas had had enough, and retreat from the story altogether for reasons I won't disclose here. I can't give away much more of the book without ruining the story.
Barba's attempt at making a different kind of Lord of the Flies was done well, but the lack of emotion is felt throughout the entire story which makes the characters flat, especially our main character, who I didn't find likable in any such way. He calls a grieving woman a 'whore,' and he seems rude towards his family, especially his step-daughter.
A Luminous Republic is redeemed by is unpredictability, which is something that doesn't come along in fiction that often anymore. I enjoyed that the story was written like a True Crime novel, with fictitious documentaries, news reports and books. So, I would recommend this book to people who like True Crime and Mysteries.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated Beauty and the Beast (2017) in Movies
Sep 29, 2021
Tail as old as Kline.
With the Disney marketing machine in full swing, its hard to separate the hype from the movie reality in this latest live-action remake of one of their classic animated features from 1991. If you are lucky enough to have children you will know that each child tends to have “their” Disney feature: for my second daughter (then 4) that film would be “Beauty and the Beast”. With a VHS video tape worn down to the substrate, this is a film I know every line of dialogue to (“I’m especially good at expectorating”). So seeing this movie was always going to be a wander down Nostalgia Avenue and a left turn into Emotion Crescent, regardless of how good a film it was. And so it proved.
Taking no chances with a beloved formula, most of the film is an almost exact frame-for-frame recreation of the original, with the odd diversion which, in the main, is to slot in new songs by original composer Alan Menken with Tim Rice lyrics. For, unlike “La La Land” this is a proper musical lover’s musical with songs dropping in regularly throughout the running time.
Which brings us to Emma Watson’s Belle. I’ve seen review comments that she ‘dials it in’ with a humourless and souless portrayal of the iconic bookworm. I can’t fathom what film those people were watching! I found Watson to be utterly mesmerising, confident and delightful with a fine (though possibly auto-tuned) singing voice. Her ‘Sound of Music’ moment (you’ll know the one) brought tears to my eyes. There are moments when her acting is highly reminiscent of Hermione Grainger, but this is about as crass a criticism as saying that Harrison Ford has done his “Knock it Off” snarl again.
I even felt that the somewhat dodgy bestiality/Stockholm-syndrome thing, inherent in the plot, was deftly handled by her. Curiously (and I feel guilty for even thinking this) the only part I felt slightly icky about was the age difference evident in the final kiss between Watson (now 27) and the transformed beast (sorry if this is a TERRIBLE spoiler for you!) played by Dan Stevens (“Downton Abbey”): even though with Stevens being only 35 this is only 8 years! I think the problem here is that it is still difficult for me to decouple the modern feminist woman that is Watson from the picture of the young Hermione as a schoolgirl in her first term at Hogwarts. (I know this is terrible typecasting, and definitely my bad, but that’s the way it is).
Stevens himself is fine as the cursed prince, albeit that most of his scenes are behind the CGI-created wet-rug that is the beast. Similarly, most of the supporting stars (Ewan McGregor as Lumière, Ian McKellen as Cogsworth, Emma Thompson as Mrs Potts and an almost unrecognisable Stanley Tucci as the maestro Cadenza) are similarly confined to voice parts for the majority of the film. Kevin Kline is great as the supremely huggable Maurice. But the performances that really shine though are those of Luke Evans (“The Girl on the Train“) as the odiously boorish Gaston and Josh Gad (Olaf in “Frozen”) as his hilariously adoring sidekick LeFou. Much has been made of the gay Disney angle to this element of the story, most of which is arrant homophobic nonsense since the scenes are pretty innocuous. In fact the most adventurous ‘non-heterosexual’ aspect of the film, and a scene that raises by far the biggest laugh, relates to a completely different character.
Most of the songs delivered in the film are OK without, in my view, surpassing the versions in the original. Only Dan Steven’s dramatic new song “Evermore”- as one of the few really new ‘full-length’ songs in the film – has ‘Oscar nomination’ written all over it. However, the film eschews the ‘live-filming’ approach to song production featured in recent musicals like “La La Land” and “Les Miserables”, with some degree of lip-sync evident. Whilst I understand that ‘imperfection’ is not a “Disney thing”, I found that lack of risk-taking a bit of a disappointment.
The makers of the original “Beauty and the Beast” would I’m sure have been bowled over by the quality of the special effects on show here. However, that was in 1991 and it is now 2017, when “The Jungle Book” has set the bar for CGI effects. By today’s standards, the special effects here are mediocre at best. I wondered at first if some of the dodgy green-screen work was delivered that way to make it seem more “cartoony”, but I doubt that – – why bother? More irritatingly, the animated chattels in the castle, especially the candlestick Lumière, are seriously unconvincing. Mrs Potts, the teapot, and her son Chip, the cup, are rendered as flat and two-dimensional. There should have been no shortage of money to thrown at the effects with a reported budget of $160 million. Where has the Disney magic gone?
The film also seems to be rendered primarily for a 3D showing (I saw it in 2D). I say this because some of the panning shots (notably one around the library) to me just ended up as an unimpressive blur of mediocrity. Most odd.
The director is Bill Condon responsible for the modestly well-respected but low-key “Dreamgirls” and “Mr Holmes” but also the much derided “Breaking Dawn” end to the “Twilight” series. As such this seems to have been quite a risk that Disney took with such a high profile property, and I would have been intrigued to see what a more innovative director like Chazelle or Iñárritu would have done with it.
However, despite my reservations it is bound to be a MONSTER hit in every sense of the word, and kids aged 5 to 10 will, I predict, absolutely adore it (be warned that kids under 5 may be seriously scared by some of the darker scenes, especially the two wolf-attacks). For a younger age group, I would rate it as an easy FFFFF. As an adult viewer, given that I have viewed it through the rosy tint of my nostalgia-glasses (unfortunately you cannot hire these at the cinema if you haven’t brought your own!), this was an enjoyable watch. Despite my (more than expected!) slew of criticisms above my rating is still….
Taking no chances with a beloved formula, most of the film is an almost exact frame-for-frame recreation of the original, with the odd diversion which, in the main, is to slot in new songs by original composer Alan Menken with Tim Rice lyrics. For, unlike “La La Land” this is a proper musical lover’s musical with songs dropping in regularly throughout the running time.
Which brings us to Emma Watson’s Belle. I’ve seen review comments that she ‘dials it in’ with a humourless and souless portrayal of the iconic bookworm. I can’t fathom what film those people were watching! I found Watson to be utterly mesmerising, confident and delightful with a fine (though possibly auto-tuned) singing voice. Her ‘Sound of Music’ moment (you’ll know the one) brought tears to my eyes. There are moments when her acting is highly reminiscent of Hermione Grainger, but this is about as crass a criticism as saying that Harrison Ford has done his “Knock it Off” snarl again.
I even felt that the somewhat dodgy bestiality/Stockholm-syndrome thing, inherent in the plot, was deftly handled by her. Curiously (and I feel guilty for even thinking this) the only part I felt slightly icky about was the age difference evident in the final kiss between Watson (now 27) and the transformed beast (sorry if this is a TERRIBLE spoiler for you!) played by Dan Stevens (“Downton Abbey”): even though with Stevens being only 35 this is only 8 years! I think the problem here is that it is still difficult for me to decouple the modern feminist woman that is Watson from the picture of the young Hermione as a schoolgirl in her first term at Hogwarts. (I know this is terrible typecasting, and definitely my bad, but that’s the way it is).
Stevens himself is fine as the cursed prince, albeit that most of his scenes are behind the CGI-created wet-rug that is the beast. Similarly, most of the supporting stars (Ewan McGregor as Lumière, Ian McKellen as Cogsworth, Emma Thompson as Mrs Potts and an almost unrecognisable Stanley Tucci as the maestro Cadenza) are similarly confined to voice parts for the majority of the film. Kevin Kline is great as the supremely huggable Maurice. But the performances that really shine though are those of Luke Evans (“The Girl on the Train“) as the odiously boorish Gaston and Josh Gad (Olaf in “Frozen”) as his hilariously adoring sidekick LeFou. Much has been made of the gay Disney angle to this element of the story, most of which is arrant homophobic nonsense since the scenes are pretty innocuous. In fact the most adventurous ‘non-heterosexual’ aspect of the film, and a scene that raises by far the biggest laugh, relates to a completely different character.
Most of the songs delivered in the film are OK without, in my view, surpassing the versions in the original. Only Dan Steven’s dramatic new song “Evermore”- as one of the few really new ‘full-length’ songs in the film – has ‘Oscar nomination’ written all over it. However, the film eschews the ‘live-filming’ approach to song production featured in recent musicals like “La La Land” and “Les Miserables”, with some degree of lip-sync evident. Whilst I understand that ‘imperfection’ is not a “Disney thing”, I found that lack of risk-taking a bit of a disappointment.
The makers of the original “Beauty and the Beast” would I’m sure have been bowled over by the quality of the special effects on show here. However, that was in 1991 and it is now 2017, when “The Jungle Book” has set the bar for CGI effects. By today’s standards, the special effects here are mediocre at best. I wondered at first if some of the dodgy green-screen work was delivered that way to make it seem more “cartoony”, but I doubt that – – why bother? More irritatingly, the animated chattels in the castle, especially the candlestick Lumière, are seriously unconvincing. Mrs Potts, the teapot, and her son Chip, the cup, are rendered as flat and two-dimensional. There should have been no shortage of money to thrown at the effects with a reported budget of $160 million. Where has the Disney magic gone?
The film also seems to be rendered primarily for a 3D showing (I saw it in 2D). I say this because some of the panning shots (notably one around the library) to me just ended up as an unimpressive blur of mediocrity. Most odd.
The director is Bill Condon responsible for the modestly well-respected but low-key “Dreamgirls” and “Mr Holmes” but also the much derided “Breaking Dawn” end to the “Twilight” series. As such this seems to have been quite a risk that Disney took with such a high profile property, and I would have been intrigued to see what a more innovative director like Chazelle or Iñárritu would have done with it.
However, despite my reservations it is bound to be a MONSTER hit in every sense of the word, and kids aged 5 to 10 will, I predict, absolutely adore it (be warned that kids under 5 may be seriously scared by some of the darker scenes, especially the two wolf-attacks). For a younger age group, I would rate it as an easy FFFFF. As an adult viewer, given that I have viewed it through the rosy tint of my nostalgia-glasses (unfortunately you cannot hire these at the cinema if you haven’t brought your own!), this was an enjoyable watch. Despite my (more than expected!) slew of criticisms above my rating is still….
It’s about 6 weeks since I finished season 3 of this incredible show from Netflix. I have been putting off writing about it, because I wanted to let it settle. And also because I have a hell of a lot to say about it. I am gonna try and be comprehensive, without giving too much away in terms of spoilers. I am going to assume you have seen some of it, or have heard the hype, at least. If you haven’t got around to it yet, then all I can say is: what are you doing with your entertainment life? Get on it, now! It is as ubiquitous as Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, or The Wire, and sits comfortably in that group for consistent quality and lasting impressions.
Season one first aired in July 2017. I heard good things very quickly, albeit with some hesitation. It was dark, sometimes literally, utilising a trademark washed-out effect visually, that instantly gave it a bleak feel, which was not to everyone’s taste, but I loved. General consensus had it that the writing was great; the situation and concept drew you in from minute one. In fact, I believe the first episode is one of the best pilots seen in the last decade, bar none. It made no bones about what we were to expect from the start: intelligent dialogue, a lot of tension and a hefty chunk of jaw-dropping brutality.
Jason Bateman has enjoyed a remarkable career in the last ten years, putting behind him a patchy child-star and B actor tag, to emerge as the go to guy for deadpan comedy pathos, rivalled only, perhaps by Paul Rudd. Ozark is Bateman’s show in many regards, fulfilling his ambition to produce and direct as well as act, and he is a superb central pivot to the show, as hard nosed accountant turned drug cartel puppet, Marty Byrde. He excels in all three roles on every level, and if you are a fan of his lighter work, chances are you will fall head over heels for his dubious charm in Ozark.
But, whilst he is the lynchpin of the show, and a compelling character in every subtley drawn way, there is so much more to the show than him. Laura Linney, as his initially timid wife, Wendy, is never less than interesting. Perfectly cast, utilising her skill for portraying strong yet flawed women at every turn; she grows into a character so full of contradictions and conflicts, that you change your mind whether you like her or not almost episode to episode. Time will tell, but she may yet emerge in season 4 as the most fully realised character in the show, depending on how her arc ends. The potential is huge, and despite a CV of solid roles over the years, this could be the defining work of her career. It’s already close.
Then there are the kids in this very modern nuclear family, Charlotte and Jonah, played by Sofia Hublitz and Skylar Gaetner. These characters could have been set decoration in lesser hands, but in this show they are given the chance to grow and become pivotal to the ongoing story in remarkable ways. There is nothing stereotypical about either of them, and the two young actors more than rise to the challenge of matching the more experienced pros. Many a show has been ruined by miscast youths that can’t match the more sophisticated adult content, but I remain impressed by these two, both as characters and actors. Again, they have the scope to go into very fascinating places within the story when season four emerges.
The true strength of the show, however, may lie in its consistently solid output of great supporting characters. Julia Gartner, as older than her years redneck with ambitions to rise above it, Ruth, has garnered all the plaudits, quite rightly. You grow to like her in usual ways. At first mistrusting her and then ended up 100% on her side. At times, she is the only one making sense and making the right decisions. The continual ways she is forced to grow up fast and bounce back from traumatic situations is so beautifully handled, that when she does show her vulnerable side it is at once shocking and heart- rending.
A lot of characters come and go; some forever, much quicker than you anticipated… for the sake of non spoilers, I won’t go into a who’s who here, but many meet a very sticky end, and it isn’t always who you think it will be. Especially by season 3, which largely drops the dark filter on the camera lens, but cranks up the body count exponentially, you start to feel that no one is safe, and anyone can go at any minute. Except, when they do, and why they do, is so well interwoven into the plot that you forget to look for the sucker punch and are still left with your jaw hitting the floor.
There were moments on season three where I was actually talking to the screen, begging certain characters not to do what they were doing; a sure sign of complete emotional investment. A big part of that was the addition of Tom Pelphrey as Wendy’s brother, who from the start puts a genius new spin on the family dynamic, becoming intertwined in interesting and ultimately devastating ways. His character takes a while to warm up, but by mid-season he is guaranteed to be your favourite person in it. And in episode 9, he delivers a monologue and a performance that I would quite honestly say is one of the absolute best things I’ve ever seen in a TV show.
I was moderately outraged then, to see he wasn’t rewarded with at least a nomination for the 2020 Emmy Awards. An oversight rather than a snub, for sure, but when Bateman, Linney and Garner all got nominated and he didn’t it felt like a real injustice, and a lot of online vitriol reflected that. Such a shame, especially if it turns out to be the best work he ever does – and I can’t imagine anything better, but who knows where he will go from here.
By the end of season 3 I felt exhausted. Each episode is slightly over an hour long, but can feel like you just watched a self contained movie. The quality certainly feels that way. I was both elated and shocked by the way it was left on a cliff edge, and relieved that I could take a break from it now. Although, waiting potentially up to two years to see how the story ends now seems like a long wait.
And it will be the end, one way or another, as the production announced season four will be the last, however stretching from 10 to 14 episodes, divided into 2 halves of 7; a trick Breaking Bad also did in its fifth and final season. I love that idea. Knowing the finish line is coming, rather than having it stretch out for years until the ideas and the momentum have long run out. Dexter springs to mind: a show that should have ended two seasons earlier, for sure.
I can really only see two ways it can go from here: either everyone dies, and that seems quite likely right now, or they win big. There simply is no inbetween I can imagine that would be satisfying. And I’m on the fence which I will prefer… The only certainty is that I will be very excited indeed when it comes around. And shows that make you feel that way are rare. In the meantime, I’m gonna watch a lot of comedies. I need a laugh after this…
Season one first aired in July 2017. I heard good things very quickly, albeit with some hesitation. It was dark, sometimes literally, utilising a trademark washed-out effect visually, that instantly gave it a bleak feel, which was not to everyone’s taste, but I loved. General consensus had it that the writing was great; the situation and concept drew you in from minute one. In fact, I believe the first episode is one of the best pilots seen in the last decade, bar none. It made no bones about what we were to expect from the start: intelligent dialogue, a lot of tension and a hefty chunk of jaw-dropping brutality.
Jason Bateman has enjoyed a remarkable career in the last ten years, putting behind him a patchy child-star and B actor tag, to emerge as the go to guy for deadpan comedy pathos, rivalled only, perhaps by Paul Rudd. Ozark is Bateman’s show in many regards, fulfilling his ambition to produce and direct as well as act, and he is a superb central pivot to the show, as hard nosed accountant turned drug cartel puppet, Marty Byrde. He excels in all three roles on every level, and if you are a fan of his lighter work, chances are you will fall head over heels for his dubious charm in Ozark.
But, whilst he is the lynchpin of the show, and a compelling character in every subtley drawn way, there is so much more to the show than him. Laura Linney, as his initially timid wife, Wendy, is never less than interesting. Perfectly cast, utilising her skill for portraying strong yet flawed women at every turn; she grows into a character so full of contradictions and conflicts, that you change your mind whether you like her or not almost episode to episode. Time will tell, but she may yet emerge in season 4 as the most fully realised character in the show, depending on how her arc ends. The potential is huge, and despite a CV of solid roles over the years, this could be the defining work of her career. It’s already close.
Then there are the kids in this very modern nuclear family, Charlotte and Jonah, played by Sofia Hublitz and Skylar Gaetner. These characters could have been set decoration in lesser hands, but in this show they are given the chance to grow and become pivotal to the ongoing story in remarkable ways. There is nothing stereotypical about either of them, and the two young actors more than rise to the challenge of matching the more experienced pros. Many a show has been ruined by miscast youths that can’t match the more sophisticated adult content, but I remain impressed by these two, both as characters and actors. Again, they have the scope to go into very fascinating places within the story when season four emerges.
The true strength of the show, however, may lie in its consistently solid output of great supporting characters. Julia Gartner, as older than her years redneck with ambitions to rise above it, Ruth, has garnered all the plaudits, quite rightly. You grow to like her in usual ways. At first mistrusting her and then ended up 100% on her side. At times, she is the only one making sense and making the right decisions. The continual ways she is forced to grow up fast and bounce back from traumatic situations is so beautifully handled, that when she does show her vulnerable side it is at once shocking and heart- rending.
A lot of characters come and go; some forever, much quicker than you anticipated… for the sake of non spoilers, I won’t go into a who’s who here, but many meet a very sticky end, and it isn’t always who you think it will be. Especially by season 3, which largely drops the dark filter on the camera lens, but cranks up the body count exponentially, you start to feel that no one is safe, and anyone can go at any minute. Except, when they do, and why they do, is so well interwoven into the plot that you forget to look for the sucker punch and are still left with your jaw hitting the floor.
There were moments on season three where I was actually talking to the screen, begging certain characters not to do what they were doing; a sure sign of complete emotional investment. A big part of that was the addition of Tom Pelphrey as Wendy’s brother, who from the start puts a genius new spin on the family dynamic, becoming intertwined in interesting and ultimately devastating ways. His character takes a while to warm up, but by mid-season he is guaranteed to be your favourite person in it. And in episode 9, he delivers a monologue and a performance that I would quite honestly say is one of the absolute best things I’ve ever seen in a TV show.
I was moderately outraged then, to see he wasn’t rewarded with at least a nomination for the 2020 Emmy Awards. An oversight rather than a snub, for sure, but when Bateman, Linney and Garner all got nominated and he didn’t it felt like a real injustice, and a lot of online vitriol reflected that. Such a shame, especially if it turns out to be the best work he ever does – and I can’t imagine anything better, but who knows where he will go from here.
By the end of season 3 I felt exhausted. Each episode is slightly over an hour long, but can feel like you just watched a self contained movie. The quality certainly feels that way. I was both elated and shocked by the way it was left on a cliff edge, and relieved that I could take a break from it now. Although, waiting potentially up to two years to see how the story ends now seems like a long wait.
And it will be the end, one way or another, as the production announced season four will be the last, however stretching from 10 to 14 episodes, divided into 2 halves of 7; a trick Breaking Bad also did in its fifth and final season. I love that idea. Knowing the finish line is coming, rather than having it stretch out for years until the ideas and the momentum have long run out. Dexter springs to mind: a show that should have ended two seasons earlier, for sure.
I can really only see two ways it can go from here: either everyone dies, and that seems quite likely right now, or they win big. There simply is no inbetween I can imagine that would be satisfying. And I’m on the fence which I will prefer… The only certainty is that I will be very excited indeed when it comes around. And shows that make you feel that way are rare. In the meantime, I’m gonna watch a lot of comedies. I need a laugh after this…