Nik

It's possible that I like the backmatter more than the actual comic. It's so good! If you can, I highly recommend buying the individual issues, because that stuff isn't in the TPB and you're missing out. It effectively triples (quadruples? quintuples? exponentially increases!) the value of the book. So good.

I feel like probably a tree did actually fully grow in Brooklyn in the time it took me to read this book. It's a really good story, and it was amazing to get a glimpse of Brooklyn's slice of life from a hundred years ago. But boy howdy was it slow reading. And just when it started to get really interesting, it ended. (This is not to say that it wasn't interesting throughout, only that I was more intrigued by Francie Nolan as a young woman than as a child.)

I like to read books before I watch the film. In this case, though, I didn't want the play spoiled, and so I waited to read the book. And I was going to rate the book four stars, but then I realised that the only reason for that is that I was able to enjoy reading Scorpius whilst hearing the brilliant Anthony Boyle's voice in my head. And then I realised that it's quite difficult to read Cursed Child and separate it from the performance; but that if I do, it doesn't stand up so well on its own. Also I realised that unless I'm reading or memorising lines, I really don't like reading plays.

That said, the play is wonderful and Anthony Boyle is a marvel and the score is phenomenal and if you get the opportunity to see it I heartily recommend it.

I wanted to give this book five stars. It's a really beautifully told history of New York City—necessarily incomplete, since it's also the story of one man. But I was fine with that. I always get annoyed when I get this big-picture perspective of things in a book, when it's one person's story. I think, Wait, how do you know what was happening way over there, when you were way over here the whole time? I like also that the story is biased: we aren't told everything, we're told about what's important to the main character.

Throughout the book, there's a fetishisation of brown and black skin that made me feel a little squiggy, and nowhere is this more pronounced than where Delfina enters the picture. Further, I wish the same attention to detail had been given to all the Spanish bits as was given to New York's history. The verb conjugations, the vocabulary, and the idiomatic expressions were all wrong. It would have taken very little effort to actually talk to a Dominican woman and get them right. There were also a couple of instances where the prose was anachronistic; they were jarring and took me out of the story. For example, I remember a mention of Mars and thinking, Wait, what? I just didn't believe that a poor, Irish boy would have "Mars" in his headspace in the 1800s.

Strong, strong feels about including 9/11 in the narrative. I could see it heading that way and was really hoping that I would be wrong. While I was disappointed with the end of the story, I enjoyed the beginning and middle enough to make the whole thing a worthwhile read. If you love New York City, I recommend giving it a try. But it's really a whole lot about NYC, so if that sounds boring, I wouldn't bother; for me, it was the best part.

4.5 story
2.5 storytelling
3.5 overall

Great story unnecessarily dragged out with hyperbole and repetition. Most of the time the author doesn't even bother saying the same thing with different words—they're the same words and phrases over and over again. And the hyperbole! For the first time ever... No, actually, you said the same thing last time. A few other problems are signs of the time: the ableist language, the patronising sexism. A few years ago they might have been better tolerated, but the increased awareness with which we try to behave these days means they instead result in much jaw clenching and teeth gnashing.

The end of the eternaut's adventure was unexpected, but in retrospect it made a kind of sense. And while I know that the point was the story, the journey, its conclusion was so quickly and summarily presented that it felt a bit abrupt and anticlimactic. That said, I really liked the last few panels that focused on the listener. I'd hate to be in that poor guy's shoes.

Definitely the most ambitious graphic novel I've read so far, which is a good thing. I plan to look for more like this: longer and thought-provoking stories.

My favourite part was the story of how Japanese bees deal with being attacked by a Japanese hornet. That and the description of the journey from lump to runner were great and, on their own, would've made for a five-star book. What lost my interest and appreciation were the condescension, ableist language, and unnecessary snark. I'm not about insulting others to make myself feel better and at times that's what I felt was happening (e.g., tanning bed baked potatoes. I frequently really like The Oatmeal but this is the first time I've read one of the books. Maybe I'm just meant to take it in small doses. ¯_(ツ)_/¯

That story about the Japanese bees and hornets is really great, though.

I don't believe in guilty pleasures. The way I see it, if it makes me happy and I'm not hurting anybody, there's no cause for guilt.

That said, I feel like I shouldn't have enjoyed this collection of stories as much as I did. But I did! So very much! I have a soft spot for fast, fun reads, and this is one. Normally, the story we get is the story we get. If we want something more, we have to turn to fanfic. And then, it's not like we know that's what the author originally imagined.

But this! In this collection we get to revisit the slice of life to which we were introduced in Divergent and go behind the scenes with Four. And that's just so freaking cool!

Favourite thing: references without any elucidation to stuff that happened in Divergent. If you've read the book, you'll go, Oh, yeah, I remember that! If you haven't, there's no effort made to include you or catch you up on things. I love that. It feels like the continuation of a conversation between an author and her readers.

I won this book in a Goodreads giveaway—thanks, Goodreads! <3

The story of Mr. Fuzzbuster's uncertainty about his place in Lily's heart when other animals join their family is cute and the illustrations are lovely. This strikes me as a book that children might read with their grownups rather than on their own, because a lot goes unsaid. We are left to read characters' expressions and draw our own conclusions about what they're thinking. The story raises great family discussion points.

I was sad that at the end poor little Mr. Fuzzbuster was thrown for a loop again, wondering if in fact Lily's doll was her favourite. Also for a moment in the beginning I thought that King was a snake, since it's rare that lizards make a sound and I don't associate them with hissing.

Overall, a nice tale about sharing one's space, life, and love with others.

This is a very, very, absolutely ridiculously biased rating. Another reviewer wrote, “But I have to ask myself, when I read queer stories, if I like it because it's a love story between two women or if it's because it's actually a good story.” I absolutely liked this because it's a love story between two women. Two brown women. Two brown women played in the film by one of my favourite people-I-don't-actually-know and a friend of a friend. And I absolutely liked this book because I liked the film.

These are all not very good reasons for liking the book. I don't care. It's a simple, sweet love story. It's an entirely relatable coming-out story (albeit a bit on the fluffy side for many of us). I googly-eyes, heart-hands lurve it.

A disappointment. I read the book for the first time pretty recently. I enjoyed it but don't have attachment to it created in childhood. I was really looking forward to reading the graphic novel; I'm discovering that I love the medium and appreciate adaptations of existing books.

I hate to say it, but the art really dragged down the experience. I could get past not connecting to the style if I thought it fit the story, but most of the time I thought the characters' expressions were way off, based on what they were saying or thinking. Another reviewer said that, at times, she wondered if she were reading the panels in the correct order. I had this experience as well; in fact, I enabled the animated, guided progression in the Kindle app. I didn't love reading it that way (the book isn't high-res and looks a little on the awful side when the software zooms in on the panels), but at least I was sure I was reading things in the right order.

As another reviewer said, I'm also wondering if maybe the source material isn't as great as I thought it was. I'm not in a rush to re-read the book, but I'm kind of sad that the graphic novel adaptation has left me doubting my memory of it.

It's not all bad. I love Aunt Beast.

I'm not much of a fantasy reader. This book was a free download for the Kindle from Amazon.com, so I thought, why not? I've noticed that many of the free Kindle books from Amazon are first in a series, and this title is no exception. I've read many grumbly comments about this, but I think it's brilliant marketing. I didn't find Keyes' writing particularly fantastic, but the story's a good one and the pace is brilliant, making this a thoroughly entertaining page-turner. I look forward to reading the next volume.

I might have enjoyed reading this book's reviews more than the book itself. It's kind of funny how they're all over the map. Controlled chaos, minus the control, seems to be the name of Chuck Palahniuk's game. Anyone who thinks that Choke isn't preachy couldn't have read the same book I did. It's the same story with different words and different people, and it's getting old.

Poor Henry Parker. You can't really get more “wrong place, wrong time” than he did. Ah, well, his misfortune made for a good story. It's got a good pace and is easy to read. The only thing that really bugged me was how suddenly and effortlessly Henry just figures things out; the kid's not a rookie journalist, he's Sherlock. Bah.