It stands to mention I’m not a Marvel reader, I’m not a reader of traditional superhero comics in general. And while I’ve read about Marvel as a company and the creative minds behind it (Stan Lee and co.), Marvel Universe is known to me primarily through the seemingly endless procession of movies. With the notable exception of Jack Kirby’s Eternals saga, which was good corny fun.
So this is to say I may not be the ideal audience for this book and this review should be considered accordingly. But then again the appeal of Gaiman writing this and taking it all the way back to 1602 was really exciting, so I figured I’d give it a try. And came away mostly disappointed. Since I appreciate historical fiction in general, that aspect of it was interesting enough. Staged in a tumultuous time in England during the transference of royal power from Elizabeth the I to James the VI, two very different rulers, two very different sets of rules. Much to navigate for the loyal subjects of various loyalties. And various abilities, enhanced and otherwise. And Gaiman weaved a number of well known Marvel characters into that complex tapestry fairly well, reimagining them as historical figures alongside the real historical figures, superpowered or not. So it’s interesting from that perspective and yet in the end underwhelmingly so. For the sheer geographical span of the story and the impressive navigation of both political and actual turbulent waters, one might have hoped for more…something. More emotional engagement? More of a wow? And granted some of it is on the artist who furnished the story with art as thoroughly decent as it is thoroughly bland. It’s very competent, but it’s just so…soulless somehow. It looks like a lot of other, lesser, comic books. The covers here are stunning, but those are done in a different style by different artist, you can read all about it in the supplemental materials. The actual art is just ok, the faces especially are so uninspired. Kind of like a cheaper video game graphics in that respect. Maybe I’m not explaining it right, but suffice it to say…there is a very, very generic quality to the art. It’s fine, it isn’t disappointing because I’ve had no expectations of the artist, what is disappointing though is the writing. If you didn’t know who the author was, you’d never would have guessed. The writing’s just as bland as the art. Technically proficient, perfectly decent, but flat, with nary a glimpse of Gaiman’s wild imagination or cleverness. Just the same convoluted narrative mess the movies provide without the visual feast and fun of the movies. And takes longer to get through, which considering the length of Marvel movies is no small thing. So yes, I’m kind of disappointed. Kind of expected something more…marvelous.
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1899. London is about to turn a new century leaf and life has never been stranger. In fact, it’s downright peculiar. There are irregularities with the world, women are birthing rabbits, people are changing appearances, magic seems to be on the rise but there are few who can understand it and fewer still to control it.
A challenging time to come of age and for a young Mr. Thresher, a scion to a prosperous banking family, it is a belated in many ways ascendance. All he has known until now was a life of leisure, funded by his older brother, the bank’s director. Now he has been brought into the family business and the most unreasonable of demands have been laid upon him, mainly he is to marry a wealthy Jewish young woman…a woman he finds as unattractive of a prospect as the marriage itself. There is also a not insignificant matter of him slowly but surely turning into a tree. So why is this marriage so important? Why has the bank been giving out strange loans and acquiring seemingly random properties all over London? What’s the deal with the Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn? Time to step it up, roll up one’s sleeves (if only to find leaves sprouting there) and solve a few mysteries. And there you have it. A very entertaining historical fantasy or alternate historical reimagining of a fascinating magic soaked London. Plenty of mysteries to solve, plenty of action, suspense, romance, etc. It’s a story about magic that actually manages to be magical. And a pleasure to spend time with. Slightly longer than ideal, but read well. The narrative unfolded itself in an exciting and imaginative manner. It did remind me of something so much the entire time and I can’t quite put a finger to it still, so it was like a two day déjà vu for no reason. And I found some of the plot twists (especially those of personal nature) to be quite predictable. But overall it was well worth a read. London, as many places, has been reimagined as magical before, but it’s always nice when it’s done as proper literature. So yes, charmed, I’m sure. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley. New Zealand is my dream destination. I’ll go there any way I can, which in reality translates to being transported literally, so that was my main attractor with this book. The Chamberlain family though gets to visit NZ in real life, it’s 1978 and they relocate there for the most typical of reasons, a job. Just grabbed their four kids and went. And then, driving in a storm along the West Coast’s rough terrain, went off the road. The rain washed away their tracks and for all intents and purposes the family vanished off the face of the earth.
With only one relative determined to look for them and even then only sporadically, logistics and finances being what they are, the Chamberlains would have stayed gone and forgotten but for the recently unearthed remains of their eldest child. Remains that show the boy has lived for several years past 1978. It’s a mystery, especially to the kids’ aunt who has failed to find them all those years ago, but there’ nothing to be done about it now, all these years later when she gets the news. Back in the day especially the land held its secrets close and the dense vegetation hid much like camouflage. If someone wanted to disappear or someone wanted someone to disappear, West Coast of New Zealand was as good of a place as any and in many respects superior to most to do so. It’s frightening really, like a nightmarish coin flip off the idyll of the off grid living. And it’s frightening to contemplate just how easily one’s life can go off track…about as easily as the car ca go off the road. That’s as much as I can say without giving away too much of the plot. So read for yourself to find out the meaning of the tally stick and the fates of the vanished Chamberlains. It’s a good story well told, heavy and emotionally charged and also good for an armchair trip to a far away place, albeit the darker side of it. A quick engaging read and a good introduction to a new to me author. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley. Some years ago Tayari Jones witnessed a public argument between a seemingly mismatched couple…and stole it, down to name and outfit, for her novel. Seems like that ought to be a cautionary tale for people who insist on bringing their private business into public spaces. But for Jones it meant huge things…eventually. The novel took a while to form and multiple rewrites from different perspectives, eventually ending featuring all three angles on the love triangle. Fairly average by all means love triangle of a marital drama…but with a timely twist.
And it is that precisely that sociopolitically perfectly timed twist that got the novel all of its ‘acclaim, including love from Barack and very aggressive pimping from Oprah. It’s a book that dared to take on the greatly unjust American judicial system…or more precisely bravely depicted the affect it has on black community. Because, of course, the system is greatly skewed, biased and racist. And Jones has cleverly enough made her protagonist Roy (that stolen name) a productive member of society, an educated, ambitious, American dream powered self made upstart going places as opposed to a small time criminal nobody turned martyr, so when he gets wrongly accused and imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit it shows that color bias of the system to the greatest effect. And that’s the spine of the story…Roy goes to jail for years. The spine and the message both. And for that alone, it’s perfectly good. But this isn’t titled Roy’s story. This is American Marriage. So a marriage story. A love story too…although not quite the fairy tale kind. Roy and Celestial. Yes, kinda makes you wish the author would have listened to more of that conversation and stole another name, because WTF kind of name is Celestial, it isn’t even in a proper form, it’s a freaking adjective. Named after her mom, Celeste, this is a perfectly good name fubared. But anyway, Celestial is starry, sure enough. A daughter of a wealthy family, well educated…doll maker. That’s her livelihood, fancy custom made dolls. Creepy, but there it is. Roy’s had it tougher, but still backed by a loving working class family, he has taken advantage of every assistance program and scholarship available to get an education and begin a career in finance. The two are a sort of perfect young couple, good looking, ambitious, etc. And black in a racist country. And soon they find out that no matter what cushions they have created for themselves, there’s no getting away from the innate American racism. They are only 18 months into their marriage when Roy gets accused of rape and put away. They end up spending longer separately than they did together and their marriage strains at the seams. You can witness this through an epistolary exchange, the drifting from each other, the drifting from themselves. Everyone changes, in and out of relationships. But once in…the idea is to change together and at least harmoniously and organically. Roy and Celestial don’t get to do that and, given a second chance, don’t know if they can return to where they once were or if they should. So obviously a serious heavy drama. Obviously well timed. Obviously important. But is it good…that’s a different question. From a perspective of pure literary criticism…it’s far from perfect. Roy’s trial is nonexistent (presumably to highlight the brutal blow of injustice), but how does a man whose wife gives him a perfect alibi, a man who has left no DNA (because he didn’t commit the crime), a man with good legal representation gets committed just like that? Seems an overreach even for the US justice system. And on that note, why doesn’t he sue upon getting out? The man is more than entitled to conpensation. All this time he’s had the services of Celestial’s family uncle/lawyer for free, you’d think he’d take more advantage of it. And isn’t the ending just way too neatly lined up, bow and all, considering how heavy the book is. It’s like a Lifetime movie happy ending pinned onto to a heavy prime network drama. But those are really small potatoes, comparing to the meat of it all, which for me was the gender roles. I’m not even a very aggressive feminist, but in this book it was appalling enough to stand up and shout. First off, let it be known, I didn’t like Roy. Not before, during or after prison. I didn’t think he was a likeable protagonist and no matter how much the author split the narrative, this really is his story and it’s difficult to care about him, though you’re obviously suppose to. Roy was an arrogant ass to begin with and then just added prison muscles and thug jive on top of that. The marriage he’s so desperately clinging to wasn’t perfect to begin with, he was already playing around, just a year some in. And yet…the expectation he and the rest of the world, including Celestial’s own father have of Celestial are insane. She is to stand by her man. No ifs, whens or buts. Because her man was done wrong by the state, she is to provide comfort and loving attention to him whenever requested, no matter what she might want or need. It’s a medieval and repulsive attitude you don’t really expect to encounter in a modern day first world country. Maybe it’s a race thing, can’t speak to that, don’t know enough and PC police wouldn’t allow it anyway. But it was really offputting. The novel basically made it seem as though black women are expected to just be a sort of warm loving mattress/buttress for their men. They can have their own lives, ambitions, etc, but must be willing to adjust it or give it up to accommodate their men. Always. No surprise Barack loved this book so much. I mean, you don’t see his wife with her two ivy league school degrees practicing law anywhere, do you. She’s gotten very far in life on her own, then met her man and recreated her life to accommodate him. It obviously works, they seem very happy together, but isn’t there something somewhat hypocritical about the fact that a woman who’s made her recent career going around the country inspiring young black girls to Become whatever they aspire to be…gave up her own career and rendered her superb education useless almost as soon as she became a wife and a mother. Forgive the digression…but it was in line with saying that basically this book is as good at shining the light on institutionalized racism and injustice and it is at taking a dump on female empowerment. Sorry, Celestial, you got more than a dumb name to deal with here. Apparently the female ideal is an overweight Walmart worker who grabs a man off the street based on nothing more than a high school memory, takes him to her place, feeds him and has unprotected sex with him despite the fact that he is straight out of prison. One just can’t complete with that. And it’s still possibly more than Roy deserves. But there it is. Obviously, this is a subjective opinion of the book. Most reviews are. And there are a great many reviews of this book. I believe it’s a sort of thing that’ll work differently for different readers. I don’t regret reading it, though didn’t love it as much as most. It is perfectly Oprah tailored vehicle. You can just picture her throwing books at people and booming…You get American Marriage, You get American Marriage, You all get American Marriage. Surprised no one’s made a miniseries of it yet. So yeah, those are my thoughts, lots of thoughts, Might be my longest review yet, If you made it to the end…thank you. Every so often, on about blue moon basic, I select a volume of poetry to try. I’m not a poetry reader and oftentimes these experiments reflect it. And yet, somehow, I did get something out of this collection.
I’m not sure I can say it spoke to me, because I can’t relate on a personal level to the author’s main themes of living as a black man in a racist country. (Yes, of course, it is the US). But…but there was something about his style, his energy and imagery, the musicality of his verses and the beauty of his language that was just undeniably good and potent and poignant. Poetry reviewing and fiction are so different and I’m much more accustomed to and experienced in the latter but suffice it to say in spite of my brain that generally doesn’t appreciate modern style nonrhyming nonShakespearean poetry this devastatingly titled book did more to improve my understanding and appreciation of poetry than most. The author had things to say and talent to do so as an artform. An experience presented as such is an experience not easily ignored. It’s like a way of drawing the curtains back from a window to a soul, a window to a world. And well worth the read. This is my six read by the author, which covers almost his entire oeuvre until now. It hasn’t been an even road or even an especially linear progression, after a really good first impression there were a couple of decent but mediocre ones and then it got good, like really, really good. Well above average.
And now there’s this book dragging the quality notch right back to decent but mediocre. Can’t say I’m not disappointed. Mind you, it still entertains. The pacing, the writing…all perfectly good. But the plotting is a let down. Not only is it fairly trite (that in itself is somewhat forgivable given the genre’s popularity and possibly limited amount of who killed whom and why variations), but it’s nowhere near all that clever or challenging or exciting. It essentially recycles the genre classics but ads nothing original in. Basically it’s kind of like having soup from a can and not adding any spices or extras to it…kinda sad. Especially so, because by now Carter Wilson has proven himself to be such a talented author. Even the title (and cover to some extent) is trite and recycled when compared to his previous book. So basic (and boy is it) plot involves a Yates family, wealthy, clannish, small, withholding, secretive. Just another waspy well to do family in a small New England town loaded with them. A place Yates’ youngest girl has fled as soon as she was able to, got married, had a boy, wrote a few thrillers with a small publisher which have brought her neither money nor fame and had a fairly plain life, until…well, you know, the title. Now she’s in dire financial straits and it seems as good of a time as any to come back to daddy with her tail between her legs to accept his charity she has once so vehemently refused and maybe deal with whatever it is that hangs over the Yates girls and their daddy like a dark cloud. Meanwhile back in Milwaukee, a diligent cop, a devoted son and an expectant father to be, detective Colin Pearson gets positively obsessed with the case and decides to pursue it. Between Colin’s unflagging interest and baby Yates deciding to confess her sins through fiction after two decades of silence…the pressure is on, mistakes will be made, battles fought, etc. And you might care…but you might not. Because really, it’s a lot and in a very uneven way. The narrative is split as genre does, but it’s very unbalanced, with Colin who is by far the more interesting and likeable of the two narrators getting an uneven share of the action and an overwhelming share of personal tragedy. It’s difficult not to wish this was just a Colin story. Especially once the Yates family gets into high gear with their melodramatics. Isn’t daddy Yates just so sinister? Isn’t older sister Yates just so wicked? Don’t they just have way too much money and not enough morals? Anyway, that’s how it goes. There isn’t much in the way of surprises, except one in the very end and most of it you can easily figure out. The book reads easily enough, Wilson’s a pro by now, he can probably do this in his sleep, but this isn’t what you’d hope he’d dream up, especially following up his recent work. Even the ending underwhelms when it was probably meant to delight in its ambiguity. Don’t let this be your introduction to the author. Thanks Netgalley. The Sunset Gang: Inspirational Short Stories That Reshape the Meaning of Aging by Warren Adler6/11/2021 An absolutely charming collection of short stories about elderly Jewish people living and living it up in a Floridian retirement community of Sunset Village, hence the title…this was a lovely random find through Netgalley. The author’s name didn’t ring a bell, but as it turns out actually I do have some familiarity with his work if only through cinematic adaptations, of which there were several. This book was a basis for PBS miniseries too, albeit one I’ve not heard of until now.
I weirdly enjoy stories with older protagonists, there’s something reassuring about the way they get second and third acts late in life. This collection has a built in inspirational title and I suppose in that way it is an inspiration. But also an ever important reminder that age doesn’t change basic needs and desires, doesn’t erase personalities and quirks, that the elderly are not merely vulnerable or difficult or nuisances to take care of, nor are they warm and fuzzy grandparental clichés, but instead interesting complicated individuals they always were and everyone is, just with more creaks and wrinkles. The stories in this collection are so perfectly uniform in quality, it’s difficult to play favorites. But very easy to enjoy the sum total. The writing, character and otherwise, is absolutely excellent. Makes for a very charming read indeed, but one that never veers into the cutesy territory that seems to be popular now, with a sort of magic old people, you know the rascal/sage combination, just what the youngsters need to make them appreciate life, etc. None of that silliness here. It’s just all good. Published originally in 1977 and doesn’t read dated at all. An entertaining quick read. I liked it very much. It stands to mention that the edition I read appears to be newer, but for some reason it features an author bio that talks about a man who passed away in 2019 in present tense. Which was weird. So Netgalley readers beware. It’s still a very good introduction to the author, albeit a posthumous one. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley. An excellent, edifying, erudite primer that wheels and deals in information on all things motion related.
In the beginning there was a wheel and, surprisingly enough, it wasn’t all that popular at first. Then it became all the rage and got a companion wheel. Enter cart (or a chariot if you’re fancy). But mostly a cart of some sort as in a small utility vehicle dragged along by some sort of an animal. Not the most efficient thing, but it stayed that way for centuries. Then the Industrial Age rolled around and everyone got chariotfancy and inventionhappy. And soon there were all sorts of fascinating inventions for daringly animal free locomotion. Some of it turned into bicycles and most of it turned into cars. Eventually. After a series of various stabs at it from a variety of directions. And then cars took over the world. Now that’s brief. The book expands on all these things in twelve informative chapters that chronologically trace not only the progress of motion, but also the social, political and economical ramifications of it. And it’s genuinely fascinating. Even for people with no special interest in cars. Because it’s more than a story of motion, it’s a story on the world. Since US is the leading car producer, user, etc. it steals the focus of the book. Right after all those Europeans get done inventing things, American comes along and makes them. In bulk. And so beginning with the Ford / GM rivalry of the early 20th century and right up to the present day with car production finally, finally, possibly on a downslide thanks to the numerous ride sharing options and potential of self driving vehicles and so on…you’ll get to know all about why Americans are so obsessed with cars and how this obsession has shaped the way they live. I already said fascinating, but it’s really such an apt descriptor here. This was just so well done. All the things I value in nonfiction…smart, accessibly written, succinct, with plenty of visual aid and not dragged down by footnotes (at least in the ARC edition). Gave me lots to ponder too. You learn and learn and it’s fun the entire time. I really enjoyed this book and it provided a most excellent introduction to a new to me author. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley. A wild and entertaining literary adventure, much as the title suggest, with characters hopping genres and, well, pages. This clever meta take on genre fiction was lots of fun.
It begins as a noir with a properly noir seasoned detective named Slade who discovers he’s actually a character in a series of mystery novels. Moreover, he isn’t alone. There are other characters, from other novels and genres and they’ve recently gained sentience and an ability to not only traverse the realm of fiction but also change their prewritten destinies. They team up in opposition to the preformatted designs of their authors and creators, who resides in WWTBAW (World Where The Books Are Written) and also in opposition to their designated antagonists. The fight is fictional. The fight in real. It’s Stranger than Fiction action driven and mad on genre. The characters go from bodice ripping romance to space opera to zombie survival thriller. All in the name of…ok, the plot may get slightly confusing, because there’s so much going on, in so many different dimensions. But it is linear for all its wild digressions and does (of course) follow all the classic genre standards. It reminded me of the very excellent Gene Doucette’s Unfiction, which is a high compliment in my book. I loved the concept here. What reader hasn’t contemplated the fate of the characters they engage with and what is that fate wasn’t merely bound to the page but went way, way, way off page. Make your own adventure is no longer for readers only. And all the more fun for it. And yes, it’s busy and sort of frantic or manic at times, but well worth navigating. The meta aspect is a delight too, the authors interaction as they figure out what’s going on, right down to the final concept of making this all a book is very clever and very well done. The quiet librarian ought to be proud of his creation, all that time surrounded by books has really paid off. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley. Once upon a time a young Englishwoman decided to take some time off after college and went to live in a small town US. The experience must have been scarring, because after returning to England a few years later, she wrote this book. Destroying any myth of quaintness, this is about as devastating of small towns small minds representation as it gets.
It’s also probably fairly accurate, if heightened for dramatic effect, representation, because places like this as American as apple pie and privately owned assault weapons exist. This one, tucked away in the mountains of Colorado, has all the tells that try to make American great again, ignorance, raging xenophobia, gay bashing, rampant familial abuse and violence, etc. The sort of place to quickly dispel whatever quaint notions of small town life you might have had and stay in the city, where life, however dirty, expensive and loud, is at least civilized. This was actually meant to be a transitional read, to ease the Mare of Easttown withdrawals. The same sort of small town crime drama that centers around someone’s daughter (or as they say in Easttown durdur) and then evolves into so much more. But…this turned into a different beast altogether, a darker and scarier one, much more along the lines of folkhorrific stories than murder mysteries. Primarily because the evil here, both in the general town’s atmosphere and as specifically embodied by an antagonist so profoundly vile you might have a visceral reaction to him, is just so…evil. And the entire thing is powered by faith in its worst interpretation by the (once again) evil priest and his sheeple flock. These people somehow manage to let their faith to both inspire and excuse their absolutely worst behaviors, exemplified to terrifying perfection by the girl’s father. And the supporting cast of what is essentially villagers with pitchforks. The author creates a community that’s backwoods in a positively medieval way with ways and mentalities that are almost difficult to comprehend by a modern reader. And yet, it seems tragically realistic. And affecting. You will be affected. Possibly devastated. So it’s a powerhouse of a story, emotionally gutting, well rendered, with excellent writing and equally excellent character development, including every attempt to personify and explain evil and some redemption to balance it out. A really good read, but the most striking thing about it is the author’s youth, to write a story of this emotional complexity as a debut in one’s 20s is really, really impressive. And yes, yes, I’m an agist, but also most people in their 20s seem to do whiny memoirs these days. This is so much more. And infinitely superior. Excellent and engaging, this is small town USA at its scariest. Read if you dare. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley. |
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