Bronwyn Knox
I picked this up after seeing reviews comparing it to A Confederacy of Dunces and other reviews describing it as one of the “funniest novels of the 20th-century.” This was a really excellent and entertaining read. I liked it as much as A Confederacy of Dunces but it was nowhere near as hilarious. [b:A Confederacy of Dunces 310612 A Confederacy of Dunces John Kennedy Toole https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1562554946l/310612.SY75.jpg 968084] revolved around characters who were odious and absurd and the plot was pretty outlandish. As good as it was, it wasn't really believable. Lucky Jim feels populated with people you might know in real life.The title character, Jim, is someone I could understand even if he's not especially nice or honorable. He's misanthropic and insecure to the point it had me cringing. It works well as these traits play into each other. He doesn't like people because somehow they hurt your feelings. He doesn't see in yourself how he might hurt other people's feelings. He drinks too much, schemes and lies to save face, and tries to avoid any real work. Yet somehow he is the most human compared to the other characters, most of whom are bullying, manipulating, or using him in some way. On top of the heap is Professor Welch, the clueless department head. He has the future of Jim's employment as lecturer at the university in his power. Jim is jumping through hoops trying to stay on his good side. Then there's Welch's son, Bertrand, artistic poseur, who takes an instant dislike to Jim. The feeling is mutual and Jim shows some nerve in openly challenging and defying Bertrand. Living with the Welch family is Margaret, who is recovering from a suicide attempt. Using guilt as a weapon, (he was supposed to come to see her the night she swallowed the pills) she manipulates Jim into taking care of her companionship and emotional needs, even though they don't actually like each other. Jim manages to squeak out a little romance out of his circumstances with Christine, though it's not much of a love story to root for since he begins it in order to piss off her boyfriend Bertrand. He does show more honesty and candor in dealing with Christine, however. He also finds a new ally in the form of her uncle. “Lucky Jim” is an apt title since throughout the book, Jim's questionable behavior seems sure to find him unemployed, alone, possibly physically assaulted by the various people he crosses. He's far from a heroic character, but I found it oddly satisfying that he got the better of the smug and myopic Welch family.
I'm generally interested in variations on fantasy more so than the traditional High Fantasy. I tend to categorize all of High Fantasy as the same story over and over about chosen ones, quests, rings, swords, good vs. evil, and so on.
The Blade Itself is an adult version of fantasy, though it does take place in a world of Kings, Princes, and wizards. The story focuses on three jaded characters (as opposed to heroic young adults) trying to survive a brutal world where different kingdoms are constantly at war, struggling for power, not to mention internal politics that can get someone killed easily should they cross the wrong people.
The three characters whose POVs we see are not the power players but rather those who must survive in a dystopian world. They may not be likable, heroic guys, yet their struggles make them relatable. Even the spoiled rich kid gains a little depth as he figures out there may be something he wants from life besides drinking and gambling.
I prefer series where each book has a resolution; the plot of The Blade Itself isn't resolved by the end. But I enjoyed this so much that I will continue with the other two books.
Cute, “family movie” vibe with the added gimmick of an octopus and his internal monologue. It's in the same vein as A Man Called Ove, featuring an older person who has been through some tragedy and gets the chance to connect with new people. (Hey, octopuses are people too!)
I wish she had pushed the light comedy a bit further and made it funnier. There was potential, but most of the characters were humorless. Van Pelt kept very specific characterizations. Cameron: resentful, Tova: practical, Ethan: generous, Knit-Wits: meddlesome, Avery: spirited. There wasn't much complexity.
Other reviewers mentioned disliking Cameron, and I get it. He's insufferable to the point where I didn't want to see things work out for him. The author must have thought readers would be on his side if she kept serving him bad luck. Sometimes it's more about how the character handles setbacks than the setbacks themselves.
Despite all the backstory of death, child abandonment, and other heartbreak, it's uncomplicated and light-hearted if you're in that type of mood. It was entertaining for the time I spent reading it.
Carrion Comfort is an action-adventure thriller with supernatural elements. The novel is loaded with social and political commentary. It is not enough that the powerful evil beings Simmons created can control others with their mind and feed off incredible violence, but they are also racist, misogynistic, anti-Semitic etc. (One of the main villains was a Nazi; another is a racist old southern lunatic; a third is a Harvey-Weinstein type Hollywood producer.) The heroes who dare to fight them (with incredible violence) are underdogs representing historically oppressed groups. It's not meant to be subtle (I'm guessing). While superficially epic and action packed, it was really boring at times. It felt very long and scattered compared to Simmon's [b:Song of Kali 3979 Song of Kali Dan Simmons https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1165368440l/3979.SY75.jpg 1623747], which explored similar themes but was tight and focused. All the various plans and schemes and betrayals and confrontations in Carron Comfort get jumbled up and lack trajectory.
With the title and the cover art you know what you're in for: a humorous jab at science fiction, or something imitating old campy B-movies.
The story moves fast, all action and wise-cracking dialogue. In Martinez's version of the galaxy, our solar system is filled with sentient aliens from Neptune, Mars, Venus, Jupiter and so on. The title character is an “evil genius” from Neptune who has conquered Terra (Earth, kinda sorta) via a mind control device.
The plot is structured with Emperor Mollusk acting as a tour guide for a Venusian called Zala, a character whose goal is to protect the Emperor from his unknown assassin and then arrest him for crimes against her people. This gives the Emperor a chance to show her, and therefore the reader, the various civilizations on and around Terra, which he has taken over, and get into various scrapes before confronting his final nemesis. They face monstrous creatures and other sinister beings that the Emperor has pissed off over the years.
The novel is episodic, as though it were originally published as a serialized story in a science fiction magazine. I don't think it was the case, so I assume it was done deliberately to invoke older pulp and fantasy writers.
Martinez attempts to get us to like the Emperor by showing us his guilt (and boredom) over how easily he dominated the Terrans, not to mention his endless cleverness. We don't see him gradually learn this, he's already in this mental state when the story begins. It might have been more interesting to see his humility grow with the story.
The “great hilarity” promised by the cover never occurred. There's some mildly amusing dialogue that invoked an occasional snicker. Each little adventure the Emperor and Zala get into is pretty easily solved by the Emperor, which doesn't make for much tension. Seeing a character who always knows what's going to happen or has some trick hidden up his sleeve that undoes every conflict is tedious.
When we get to the final episode, the reason for the Emperor's omniscience (other than his vast genius of course) becomes clearer. I got the joke but it wasn't enough of a surprise to really astonish or impress. Cute, but I was hoping for something original that transcends the material it is imitating.
It's Ray Bradbury's short stories so of course, they're going to be good. One of my favorite short story writers, no question.
In this collection, I see a theme of characters who become obsessed or deeply neurotic about events/things that lead them into situations they may (or may not) have avoided. A few examples of this are “The Next in Line,” “The Crowd,” and “The Wind.”
The description calls these “macabre” stories and perhaps they are, but I found humor in some of them too, “Skeleton,” “There Was an Old Woman,” and “Homecoming” in particular. It could just be me; it has occurred to me that I have a weird sense of humor.
“Homecoming” was one of my particular favorites, like The Munsters if Marylin had been less well-adjusted.
Fun collection and my favorite Halloween read this year.
This is a story about the psychological and issues of dealing with the dead coming back, centering on three different families who recently lost a loved one and are in different stages of the grieving process.
It is a “came back wrong” type of story in which the dead create a phenomenon where the living can hear each other's thoughts in their presence. Having no emotions of their own, the dead act as a channel, taking on the emotions of any living people near them.
As far as horror content, this is more about emotions and relationships rather than action, conflict, or visceral thrills. There are some disturbing moments and gore but mostly I found this book to be strange and sad as opposed to scary.
I like that there is no reason given for the beginning or abrupt end of the happening. It is about the effects not the cause. It's an interesting read that I'm not entirely sure I've fully wrapped my head around yet. The three storylines dwindle away rather than coming to a sharp point, reminiscent of “not with a bang but a whimper.”
Action-packed thriller that was just good enough to keep me invested in the final outcome.
However, the 60's radical vs. Yuppie 80's materialist felt dated to me, at least the way it was written here. Also, McCammon, who I've come to know and love, dragged out the path to the final showdown more than necessary.
I just didn't have enough interest in Mary or Laura to enjoy so many action sequences. I do appreciate that all the fighting and running around involved female characters. You didn't see that quite as often around the time this was written.
Mary Terror was an interesting concept but not believable or inspiring of fear or empathy. Some of that time spent on dragged out action scenes could have been better spent developing these characters. Also, Laura's “sisterhood” with Didi didn't feel earned.
I know it's just a thriller with no serious thought required, but McCammon set my expectations high with books like Gone South and this didn't work as well for me.
Intense and engaging right from the start, as most SK novels are. Even his worst one is still a book you can't down.Exciting as it was, the plot sometimes struck me as a little silly. Canned spaghetti, commercialized children's toys, and television westerns are the food of evil, y'all. Not that there's anything wrong with that, the man does have a sense of humor. It has a parallel-world story connection to [b:Desperation 10584 Desperation Stephen King https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1395764566l/10584.SY75.jpg 14015], but I liked this one better. I don't have strong, objective literary reasons for this, I just enjoyed the characters and interactions a bit more.
The best chance this typical “high fantasy” novel had of standing out was the five college students from our world who were pulled into Fionavar. We could have experienced the world through their more relatable point of view.
Unfortunately, I don't think the idea was used to its full potential. None of the five really bring anything of their modern selves to the party. They blend into their new surroundings quickly and without any problem adjusting to the world of Fionavar. It seems like a missed opportunity.
A manly thriller with a manly guy, doing manly things. These include but are not limited to: beating the crap out of perverts, experiencing military PTSD, saving female police detectives from harm, attracting the opposite sex, and doing household repairs.
This is a relatively ordinary thriller but it did provide humor and escapist entertainment.
Thank god for stories of manly men. May they live in some form forever.
Seems like Barker really barreled through this one. It was a short novel, less than 200 pages, and might have benefited from being fleshed out a bit. (No gruesome puns intended.) The story was very complex for the short length. Yes, it's a cool plot with lots of imaginative monsters that Barker's so good at. I just get the feeling that he expected the reader to take a lot on faith without much to work with. I can suspend my disbelief but only if the writer develops the characters sufficiently to make it worthwhile.Some of Cabal was well done. Boone is a solid underdog character. Mentally unstable and fragile at the start, he goes through a very weird story of supernatural transformation and finds unexpected heroism. It's also a story of misfit creatures, known as the Nightbreed, who are simply trying to hide from the humans who would see them as monsters. Not original, but Barker has a touch with these kinds of things ([b:Everville 32627 Everville (Book of the Art #2) Clive Barker https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1407712149l/32627.SX50.jpg 942616], [b:Weaveworld 957648 Weaveworld Clive Barker https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1429998286l/957648.SX50.jpg 942564]). Despite the fact that they eat human flesh, I do empathize with the Nightbreed. Decker aka Button Face, the villain, is just not scary. Partly because we only see some of his deeds in retrospect, like convincing the public that Boone is a serial killer or murdering six people at once in a hotel room, none of whom ganged up on him and fought back. If some of these scenes were better written, I might understand his powers of persuasion/physical prowess. The other bad guy, Eigerman, is a cop who goes after the Nightbreed for reasons that are poorly defined other than ego. (I did like the lacy-undergarment-wearing priest though. Why? Because it's left open for me to interpret.) The relationship between Lori and Boone is supposed to have an emotional impact at certain key points throughout the story, but again it is not well defined. All I got was: he's vulnerable; she's insecure. There's no hint that Lori has any hidden depths or dark side that would motivate her to stick with Boone through all the crazy crap that happens in this book. What saved this collection for me were the short stories at the end, especially “The Last Illusion,” the story that the film Lords of Illusion was based on. Short and simple, with some black humor revolving around pacts with demons and a dead body. Harry D'Amour and the other characters all have personality, so clearly Barker is capable of it. It also works because D'amour is an observer in the story, taking action but tangentially involved so the reader gets to see the diabolical events unfold through the eyes of a relatable person.
Not an easy read. Priest puts together a group of stories about many islands that are part of an archipelago. The book appears to be set up as a sort of travel guide/history but it strays from that to tell connecting short stories with various recurring characters.
The reader has to put together a narrative from the bits that happened at each island and it's not chronological. There's action, science fiction, romance, and mystery involved in the stories.
If you're bored of the standard narrative structure, this one is interesting and worth a try.
I haven't met a Buehlman story yet that I didn't like. This one switches things up nicely because the other two I tried from him were horror/vampire stories. I honestly wouldn't have looked at this one twice but for the writer. I was curious about what he would do in a genre (High Fantasy) that I'm not often in the mood for.
Buehlman's a great storyteller. Blacktongue Thief works for me with all the major elements, the characters, the world-building, an exciting plot, and the added bonus of a sense of humor.
Narrator/protagonist Kinch is the title character, a thief who starts the book already in trouble because he's indebted to his own guild. He's living in a bleak world, nations/species always at war and a survival-of-the-quickest mentality everywhere.
The cast of characters is about 90% female, and at first I thought, well this is some serious overcompensating for the lack of prominent female characters in older books of this genre. But no, the reason for this is logical: multiple wars with the Goblin nations killed most of the young male population and the young women who in turn became soldiers didn't have much time for making sons (or daughters).
Kinch is a complex character, both jocular and dark. Much of his character journey focuses on the nature of bravery and his perceived lack of it. He is one of the few young men that dodged the above mentioned wars, and he faces his own guilt and judgment from others. Through the adventures in the book, he needs to find courage both to prove something to himself as well as address his need to prove something to his traveling companion.
Kinch gets into a series of adventures that are conflicts with shades of gray not good and evil, and no sense that the overall goal of the characters has the greater moral value or purpose at least among the humans. Everyone is out for themselves and writing the wrongs that they perceive. But among the humanoid character types (Goblins, Giants) there are more extreme and interesting dangers for the main characters and give the story “bad guys” to root against in favor of Kinch and his companions.
Supernatural thriller about a rock band pursued by a tormented marine veteran. There are cosmic struggles of good v. evil, dark vs. light, weak vs. strong, and the less cosmic conflict of art vs. commerce.
The story explores the trials of playing in a band and the desire to succeed as well as just share the joy and love for music. There's lots of deep character exploration, mixed with action sequences, and some tense moments. McCammon clearly loves music and made the details of the Five's life engaging and believable.
The only thing that made The Five less than perfectly enjoyable was the dialogue. Characters frequently offer emotional statements and analysis of themselves that don't sound like anything anyone would ever say.
Kazuo Ishiguro's book's never leave you with an upbeat feeling, do they? Of course I certainly won't ever forget about any of them either.
Reading this was similar to reading Never Let Me Go—I couldn't put it down because I was dying to discover what was really going on. Patience is required since Ishiguro's books are mostly focused on the internal experiences of those characters, not the plot.
When We Were Orphans is set up as a thriller or detective novel. Charles Banks, the narrator and protagonist of the story, has chosen detective as his profession. This is an interesting contradiction since his blind spot is the traumatic incident around the disappearance of his parents when he was a child in the British colony in Shanghai.
Banks went back to England, an orphan for all purposes, finished school and quietly decided detective was the future for him. He lived most of his life in a childlike haze or delusion, a lot of it admittedly created by trusted adults who lied and kept things from him as a child. He met another orphaned adult named Sarah, with whom he had in common a need to be part of some great work, to help out the world in some significant way but found out how difficult it was to overcome their own needs.
You would think that as a detective he would have prioritized going back to Shanghai to find his parents. Instead he spent time building a name for himself in London. Once he finally decided to go to Shanghai, he doesn't see things realistically, trusts the wrong people and misidentifies a random Japanese soldier as his childhood friend. In other words, he didn't act as the clever and objective detective he's supposed to be. In the climactic scene, he rushed through the streets of Shanghai in the middle of fighting between the Japanese and Chinese, but he never let go of his personal goal of finding the house he believed his parents were held in, ignoring the chaos and violence all around him.
Like many, Banks' life of relative comfort came at the cost of others who suffered, but he wasn't aware until it was spelled out. The background of Banks' story includes the history of China/British relations and Imperialism leading up to WWII. I appreciate that Ishiguro doesn't take a one-sided approach to these larger issues.
This is my fourth Ishiguro novel, and I've come to the conclusion that all are unique and well written but all leave me with the same empty feeling that comes from identifying with a character's missed opportunities and misunderstandings that get resolved too late to change anything.
I liked this one but not quite as much as the predecessor, Thicker than Water.
Instead of having a new, original mystery to solve, Naming of the Beasts finally finishes up the Rafi storyline.
Things I loved:
Castor's narration and at times inappropriate sense of humorCastor never gets unrealistically powerful and is always in over his head
Castor's problem solving and quick thinkingThe heist scene at the MOU was incredible fun
The fabulous Rosie Crucis Wishlist of things that could have been better:Something about the final confrontation with Asmodeus felt anticlimactic. Yes, it was a tough battle but Asmodeus seemed more childish than menacing.
I wish we had seen the history of Castor/Jenna James rather than having her be a villain mostly by reputation. We hate her because Castor told us to, rather than being shown a little backstory anecdote to prove his point.Juliet's inner struggles would have been more meaningful without the external cause.
*The larger issue of where all the extra ghost/demon energy came from and how Castor's role is central to it never got resolved.
I'm happy to see a new book in the series has just come out. Maybe it will wrap up some of the unfinished business.
Bad Marie. Impulsive Marie. Irresponsible Marie.
Marie gets out of prison after serving six years for shacking up with a bank robber in Mexico. Her childhood friend, Ellen, gives her a job as a live-in nanny to her toddler daughter, Caitlin. The events in the story start three weeks after Marie has been released from prison. It's a character-driven novel. A little more psychological and less noir than I was expecting.
The author never diagnoses Marie with any particular issue, leaving it open for the reader. Marie is not capable of making plans for the future or taking responsibility for her immediate future. Her existence hinges on taking what she needs from whomever is available to use. Want. Take. Have.
Yet, as a reader I found myself on Marie's side. It is told from her point of view (third person) and I root for her to get what she needs and not get caught. Yes, she does bad things. Most of the second half of the plot revolves around her committing a protracted felony. From Marie's view, none of the people she interacts with (and takes from) are all that wonderful either. Her friend Ellen, for instance, is an icy, privileged, workaholic who neglects her daughter. Ellen's husband is a sex addict, plagiarist and all around loser.
Marie's relationship to Ellen is an interesting one. Marie views them as opposites, seeing Ellen as entitled, “hard and inflexible.” From a certain view that is true. Ellen grew up rich, got the right education which enabled her to get the right job and have the life we're all supposed to desire. She certainly wouldn't risk it over an unstable friend who can't give anything in return.
Marie is also entitled; she thinks everything she sees is hers to take since she is not one of the fortunate ones. There is no anger or vindictiveness in Marie's tendency to grab what she wants; that would involve deep thought.
The author doesn't spend too much time on Marie's childhood; she doesn't aim for sympathy with tales of abuse, though Marie's mother clearly is a cold fish. One thing that we know comes from Ellen and that's that Marie hung around her house for what she could get out of it: fancy snacks and access to the pool. She never actually liked Ellen. Marie's selfishness and greed has been with her all her life; she's never been grateful to those she sees as unfairly having more than her, even when they share it.
Marie's love for Ellen's daughter Caitlin could be interpreted as the thing that makes her redeemable. She adores the toddler and sees to her needs, though she does endanger her a couple of times as well. I can see her affection coming from their similarity. A toddler is only interested in their immediate wants and needs and does not think of future consequences. Marie finds her easy and fun to be with, since they are so much alike. Want. Take. Have. Caitlin is not going to make any demands on Marie, outside of the moment. She doesn't pose the challenges and complications of adult relationships.
It's a short book but there's a lot going on. Dermansky has a wonderful, economical writing style that puts you right in the mindset of her protagonist.
I'm not sure why I was so bored and annoyed with this but it made me question whether or not I still liked reading in general. I may have been in a mood. Generally, a good book will get me out of a funk, not exacerbate it.
The story is Barker's stab at his own creation/death mythology, in which Earth is part of five parallel dominions called the Imajica. Earth has been cut off from the other four (Earth, always gotta be different). A society exists (in England, natch) whose job is to keep it disconnected, generation after generation.
The main plot centers around a Maestro or messiah-type who can bring about a Reconciliation, uniting Earth with the rest of the Imajica.
The first third or so was mildly entertaining. Then, it devolved into a disorganized, repetitious mess. The characterizations were shallow, and I had no investment in their goals or relationships. Barker could have used an editor or someone to rein him in and keep things focused.
There were also all these footnotes to explain who was who and what was what but you could get that same information from the context. Sort of a waste of time. (You could always go to the glossary in the back if you forgot something, which was likely since there are so many characters and references.)
The relationship between Gentle and Pie Oh Pah, possibly forward-thinking in 1991, was a recreation and expansion of the relationship between Genly AI and Estraven in Le Guin's Left Hand of Darkness.
For much better fantasy by this author, I'd suggest Weaveworld or Everville.
I might have missed something, but I believe this author is onto a topic that doesn't get written about much. Women can be criminals too. If you want equality, you have to take the good with the bad.
Erika Owen's theory is that Women sometimes got off lightly because they were considered a “fairer sex” and incapable of the crimes they are accused of and it would be blamed on a male partner. They were given a lot of breaks based on their looks. Or sometimes because no one wanted to believe mothers and caregivers and makers of apple pie could be killers, bootleggers, madams, and so on.
This book hits a sweet spot for me. I have a thing for reading about people doing bad things, doubly interesting to me if they're women.
This is an easy read, set up in short 1-2 page bios of women, divided into different categories of criminal. We've got pirates, gamblers, bootleggers, madams, serial killers, bandits, and fraudsters.
I suppose the madams and fraudsters are no surprise but stories like 1890's serial killer Jane Toppan, a nurse who experimented on patients with opium, were much scarier.
I also especially enjoyed the story of Caribbean pirate Jacquotte Delahay who ran her own crew with a female partner in the early 1600s.
Another favorite was Maggie Bailey, an old grandmotherly-type who sold booze out of her home. You'd come to her house for booze and a friendly chat. I guess a life of crime can occasionally be invigorating as she lived to be 101.
The Outlaws, Gunslingers, and Bandit section contained the women who had previously received the most press: Belle Starr, Ma Barker, and Bonnie Parker.
Owens nails it with this line from the intro to the section on Outlaws.
“If there's one thing I want you to remember from this section, it's that women can be just as intimidating, terrifying, and feared as men.”
A light and easy taste for fans of feminist history and true crime.
Collection of short stories that revolve around summer in Green Town, IL in 1928. Most of it is through the eyes of two little boys, Doug and Tom, who journal the happenings in the town as a bumper between all the stories. Some of the stories have supernatural elements to them but not all. It's a beautiful book that makes me feel nostalgic for times I never actually experienced.
There was some bad news and good news for me with The Brothers Cabal. The bad news: there's not a lot of Johannes in this book. The good news: Horst is back and the first three quarters of the story revolves around him.
It was great fun to see the story from Horst's point of view. It's an omniscient POV as the meta-narrative points out, but we get Horst's thoughts, see his insecurities and inner conflict with his vampiric nature, instead of him just playing a contrast to Johannes. In Johannes Cabal the Necromancer, we learned that he is attractive and charming enough to incite Johannes' envy, and empathetic and caring enough to conflict with Johannes' cold and pragmatic nature.
In The Brothers Cabal, Horst gets a handle on what it means to be a vampire. He struggles with the way he sees himself and the supporting characters who view him, whether friend or foe, as a monster. He also fights with an “inner voice” telling him to be a vicious predator(you know like, an actual vampire). Johannes, in contrast, holds himself apart from most people and could care less how they see him.
All of Horst's inner turmoil is occurring alongside lots of action; The Brothers Cabal might be the most fast-paced of the series thus far. He allies himself with a monster/supernatural hunting society and an all-female flying circus. There are several chase scenes and monster battle scenes with were-creatures and cosmic horrors. Eventually this all leads to Horst getting Johannes involved.
I had mixed feelings about the brother's nemesis. I like that she's a call back to Johannes Cabal the Detective, but from what we saw of her, I'm not convinced of her transformation to a worthy opponent in such a short time. Maybe tragedy can focus the mind, but the spoiled and vacuous person we saw would have had a long way to go.
As always, the Johannes Cabal series has a lot of humor and homage/reference to other pop culture, but there was one moment in here that especially tickled me:
“It's in the trees! It's coming”
Probably a reference to the British 1957 horror film Night of the Demon but I'm choosing to think it also refers to the intro to Kate Bush's song, “The Hounds of Love,” which samples the line from the movie.
It's the little things.
The Johannes Cabal series continues to be my new favorite escapist entertainment.
I rarely ever do the audio book thing; I just find them way too hard to focus on, the pace isn't right for me, etc. This was the only format that put all the Johannes Cabal stories together in one place unfortunately, so I decided to give it a try.
It wasn't so bad. Nicholas Guy Smith has a wonderful voice, really easy on the ears, and he did a fantastic job giving life to Cabal and the other supporting characters. He sounds a bit like Jude Law I think.
The stories were fun and added some details to the series, mostly pitting Cabal against other necromancers. My favorites were “The Ereshkigal Working” and “The House of Gears.” They are not necessary for enjoying the longer novels but it didn't feel like a waste of time to read them, especially as a fan of this character. As a bonus, the author gives a little introduction where he talks about his appreciation for the short-story format.
Having said all that, will I be switching to audiobooks going forward? Probably not. I'm sure I will have to make exceptions but regular text works best for me. I hope I can find this collection as a regular book at some point. I would snap it up in a second.
One of those books that makes me realize that sometimes it's harder to talk about a book you love than a book that didn't do much for you. Objectively anyway.
Something this book does well is the first-person narration of Ricky Rice. The feeling is that he's right in the room with you, talking to you personally about his story. He's also amusing. It's not a hilarious book, but Ricky's way of looking at the world includes seeing the absurd and the humor even in the darkest situation.
When trying to categorize, I initially put this book into “horror” because there are references to cosmic horror/Lovecraft. Reading again, I'm thinking perhaps magical realism as the supernatural stuff is there to draw out Ricky's character development and not as the main focus of the story. We see Ricky go through two traumatic, near-death experiences and how they affected his life. The supernatural elements guide him towards believing in something outside of himself.
There are a lot of different themes here: faith vs. doubt, survivor guilt, fatherhood and parenting issues, revolution, and economic disparity are just a few.
I found this by chance at the library one day; the unusual cover attracted me (the red line that wraps around), and the blurb on the back sold me on reading it. I'm glad I did. It's a quirky, offbeat novel that's worth a shot. My enjoyment of The Big Machine inspired me to track down everything LaValle had available.
Cute and sweet, amusing at times. It's definitely lightweight fun. Chambers stimulates the imagination with aliens and space travel, not to mention entertaining characters such as neuro-divergent Kizzy and the warm and wise Dr. Chef. The reader experiences this universe through Rosemary, a new crew member aboard the spaceship Wayfarer. It's a good setup, as Rosemary has lived a sheltered life; we learn as she does.
The rest of the crew are a charming group of misfits composed of various alien species and humans from different backgrounds. Throughout the novel, the group travels through space “punching holes” for quicker hyperspace travel, often interacting with alien species. The characters spend time navigating different customs, morals, ideals, and friction between groups. There is a simple message to the novel, which is summed up nicely by this quote:
“Do not judge other species by your own social norms”
It is reminiscent of the show Firefly but less angsty as everyone's “deep, dark secrets” are discovered quickly and with minimum fuss. Most of the characters aboard the Wayfarer are a well-adjusted and close group. The two exceptions are ill-mannered Corbin and solitary Ohan. They each come to terms with their issues a little too easily for a satisfying conclusion. At times it feels like a lesson for kids in “talking out your problems” and “not judging others.” Nothing in this story is astonishing or controversial. With a little more tension and depth this would have been a big hit with me.