In the Lake of the Woods by Tim O’Brien

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Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Date read: April 26 to 29, 2018

This is a deceptively angry book. It may look normal and unassuming on the outside, even boring, but on the inside, it’s a slow-building, roiling, burning rage, the kind that sucks you in and makes you burn along with it. And I could not stop reading or even look away. Finished it in 36 hours. All I did this weekend was read this book and let it burn.

Beautifully written, bitterly frustrating, angry and wholly unexpected.

Looks real black and white now–very clear–but back then everything came at you in bright colors. No sharp edges. Lots of glare. A nightmare like that, all you want is to forget. None of it ever seemed real in the first place.

[…]

Would it help to announce the problem early on? To plead for understanding? To argue that solutions only demean the grandeur of human ignorance? To point out that absolute knowledge is absolute closure? To issue a reminder that death itself dissolves into uncertainty, and that out of such uncertainty arise great temples and tales of salvation?

[…]

I have tried, of course, to be faithful to the evidence. Yet evidence is not truth. It is only evident.

[…]

The afternoon had passed to a ghostly gray. She was struck by the immensity of things, so much water and sky and forest, and after a time it occurred to her that she’d lived a life almost entirely indoors. Her memories were indoor memories, fixed by ceilings and plastered white walls. Her whole life had been locked to geometries: suburban rectangles, city squares. First the house she’d grown up in, then dorms and apartments. The open air had been nothing but a medium of transit, a place for rooms to exist.

The theme “you can’t ever go home again” prevails infuriatingly throughout the writing, cementing the fact that, here in this story, you really can’t go home again.

Normally I hate fiction that leaves the reader without closure or an ending. Why read books that imitate real life when there’s already too much real life in your own life? That has always been my reason for staying away from contemporary fiction. But it’s different with this book and its open ending and lack of closure and lack of subtlety, all because it’s Tim O’Brien (better known for his memoir of his experience in the Vietnam War, The Things They Carried). There’s a sharpness to his writing that has always spoken to me. It’s almost as though I get him and what he’s saying. No one writes about memory and pain like Tim O’Brien, and no one writes about being lost in the wilderness of post-traumatic stress quite like he does.

My heart tells me to stop right here, to offer quiet benediction and call it the end. But the truth won’t allow it. Because there is no end, happy or otherwise. Nothing is fixed, nothing solved. The facts, such as they are, finally spin off into the void of things missing, the inconclusiveness of us. Who are we? Where do we go? The ambiguity may be dissatisfying, even irritating, but this is a love story. There is no tidiness. Blame it on the human heart. One way or another, it seems, we all perform vanishing tricks, effacing history, locking up our lives and slipping day by day into the graying shadows. Our whereabouts are uncertain. All secrets lead to the dark, and beyond the dark there is only maybe.

This book found me at the right time and in the right state of mind to appreciate its infuriating complexity. In a different mood, at a different time, and I would have no doubt stopped reading somewhere about page 20. But there was something about this past weekend that made this book call out to me. Every word, every line, made sense in a way that contemporary fiction rarely does for me. Maybe it’s Tim O’Brien. Or maybe it’s simpler than that, maybe I just wanted to get lost in the woods or a lake (preferably one that’s accessible only by helicopter).

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Rosemary and Rue (October Daye #1) by Seanan McGuire

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Rating: ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆
Date Read: September 2 to October 5, 2015

Never thought I’d say this, but I sort of hate this book and it’s all because of the main character, October (Toby) Daye. She is just so damn infuriating. But the thing is, not liking the MC has never stopped me from reading a book, continuing a series, or even enjoying the writing. But I just can’t do it with this book.

Credit where credit is due, this is not nearly as bad as some of the urban fantasies I’ve read, because there is a lot of potential in the world building and all the mythology woven into the writing is very interesting. However, the book itself is not as well put together as it could have been. It started out okay though, but then half-way through it started to unravel, with each chapter making less sense than the previous. By the end, not much about it made sense to me anymore, least of all the main character herself–the reason for the series, the reason we supposed to care about these books.

There are too many things wrong here–pacing’s too slow, tone too depressing, main character too apathetic and infuriating. Personally I don’t find the fae that interesting; they’re pretty obnoxious tbh. However, in spite of that, Seanan McGuire’s got a good thing going here, such as the interesting modern-day San Francisco setting, an alternate world filled with otherworldly creatures, and a long-term story arc that’s fitting for a long series. I especially like the setting(s), magic, courtly politics, depths and complexity of the world building. I’d like to be optimistic and say maybe this was a fluke. Maybe the next book is better. Maybe I’ll pick up it some time in the distant future when I no longer recall why I hated this book, but let’s be honest, that’s probably not gonna happen because Toby is still the main character and that makes it too difficult for me to care

Also, the first half of this book was too much of an uphill slog and the second half was too weirdly repetitive, especially the action sequences. It felt like the same couple of scenes kept happening over and over again. Toby kept getting almost killed too many times that by the the Nth time, I was like, OK maybe you’re better off dead…? She’s a professional private detective, yet she is no good at detecting, but I’m gonna cut her some slack here since she did spend a good number of years as a goldfish.

Another thing I couldn’t get into was the mystery. Didn’t care about the victim; didn’t care about Toby’s connection to her either.

Last but not least, this book feels like it’s the middle book of an ongoing series, not the first book. It feels like we’re being dumped in the middle of on-going cold war between two huge factions and we’re given very little background to work with. We’re supposed to figure things out as we go along. Too many things crucial to plot and character development are summed up quickly, rather than shown. The relationships between the characters are already well established, and so there’s a ton of history that we’re not privy to and we just have to accept that. Like I said, infuriating.

I can’t imagine how the next book is any different, and based on some of my friends’ reviews, it’s not. And that’s why I’m quitting this series.

Don’t know why I can’t seem to get into Seanan McGuire’s writing though. Feed was meh and a DNF at the sample chapter. Her short stories were also meh. I see so many people on my feed enjoying this series, reading all the way up to book #10, and I just wanna know… how? How do they do it? How did they get through books 2 to 9???

A group I’m in on Goodreads is reading Every Heart a Doorway this month, and I’m tempted to join in because I have the book (thanks, TOR!), but I’m dragging my feet because… Seanan McGuire.

Just One Damned Thing After Another (Chronicles of St. Mary’s #1) by Jodi Taylor

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Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
Date Read: February 12 to 24, 2018

RIVETING.

If I didn’t have to work for a living, I would have finished this book in a single night, and then reread it immediately. And then maybe once more in audio because it was that kind of book and exactly what I needed.

I honestly did not expect this book to be so funny, or rather, I didn’t expect it to feature dry British humor so heavily. It had me laughing so hard, so many times, I could not read it in public. And then there were times when it had devastatingly honest commentary that made for some hard reading, but the humor certainly helped to offset the heavier moments.

This book is not without faults or shortcomings by any means. The beginning is slow and longish and very explain-y. You have to wade through a ton of background and set-up info before the action gets going, and the real action doesn’t start until half-way through the book. But it’s got a great cast of characters and snappy dialogue and, once the action started, things happened quickly. Literally, it was just one damned thing after another.

I really like Madeleine Maxwell, simply called Max, as the narrator. She is funny (often without meaning to be),smart quirky, and honest, and I had a great time following her on her journey to the cretaceous period.

Since the quirky characters and their nerdy, haphazard, time-traveling ways are so endearing, I find that I don’t really mind all the other stuff. All the things that normally bother me, things that plague all time-travel books such as plot holes and continuity issues and the method of time-travel itself, don’t really register. Sure, they’re noticeable if you look into them, but I don’t really care (this time). Just gonna enjoy the ride (through time).

Long series are a blessing when you find one that fits. I personally love long series, but rarely do I find one that makes me want to keep reading. This one is one of those rare ones. Good thing there are 8 more books and a couple of short stories already written.

A few memorable moments:

“I certainly wasn’t where I should be and it would be the cautious, the sensible thing to do. But, for God’s sake, I was an historian and cautious and sensible were things that happened to other people.”

[…]

“The Society for the Protection of Historical Buildings was the official body whose task it was to oversee repairs and maintenance to our beloved but battered listed building. We had them on speed-dial. They had us on their black list.”

[…]

“Time is important in our organisation. If you can’t even get to an appointment in your own building on time, they argue, you’re not going to have much luck trying to find the Battle of Hastings.”

[…]

“And finally, I have been asked by Mrs Partridge to raise this issue. As some of you may struggle to remember, next month is your annual appraisal and I’m advised by Mrs Partridge that some of the forms you were asked to complete as a preliminary need… more work.

“Your personal details update form… Mr Sussman; you are not a Jedi Knight. Kindly amend the details in Box 3–Religion. Ditto Mr Markham, Mr Peterson, Miss Maxwell, Mr Dieter and Miss Black.”

 

Defending Jacob by William Landay

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Rating: ★ ★ ☆ ☆ ☆
Date Read: January 14 to 30, 2018

This book leaves me conflicted.

On one hand, the writing is very good for a legal mystery/suspense, and I say that as someone who doesn’t like this genre and rarely reads it if I can avoid it. I much prefer to read about the nonfictional kind. However, much to my surprise, that is precisely why this book shines. It’s surprisingly realistic in its portrayals of a high profile murder trial and its effects on the #1 suspect’s family. Also, it reads like of like true crime, if true crime was told from the perspective of someone very close to the case.

Unlike true crime though, we get to see the aftermath of the murder trial and we get to see how the family attempts to return to “normal” after the trial concludes. This story unfolds like most mysteries, with clueless parents asking oblivious questions about their own kid, but half-way through the book, there’s a tonal shift and it subtly becomes a thriller. The prose takes on a more intense, but smooth, feel as the story propels toward the end. The characters become so lifelike they might as well be real, and the story, much more plausible, and the aftermath, entirely believable. But in the end, we don’t get any closure. So, not unlike true crime.

On the other hand, the aftermath is entirely believable and we don’t get any closure in the end and I want to set this book on fire, grind up the ashes, and launch it into space. This is a normal reaction for me though. Whenever I finish perplexing WASP-y contemporary fiction, especially when it centers on affluent families bulldozing over the law, I want to burn the book. But this book is different, mainly because of its unexpected, very un-WASP-y ending which caught me off guard and threw me off my stride. It was entirely unexpected because I didn’t think the author would take it that far, but he did. More importantly though, it worked. The ending, while lacking any sense of closure, was a fitting end to this mess. I thought the savagery was just the right note with which to end this story. So credit to the author for taking it that far. This was a solid ending to a frustrating story that leaves you with absolutely no closure. So, not unlike true crime.

I tried reading this book the year it came out for a book club, but had to quit early because reading about little rich boys getting away with murder was not how I wanted to spend my day off. But I still wanted to know how the story ended, so I decided to set it aside for a better time. Now isn’t “a better time,” but the overall reading experience was better this time around. The story still enrages me, but somehow not as much as before.

So 4 stars objectively.

But honestly? 1 star for all the rage it inspires.

* * * * some spoilers below * * * *

Continue reading

Harrison Squared by Daryl Gregory

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Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
Date Read: October 9 to 21, 2015
Recommended for: fans of sea monsters and snarky prose

Harrison Squared is perfectly autumn and perfectly Halloween, which is why I’m now putting up a short write-up that I wrote awhile ago. Out of season. In spring. Over 2 years after having first read it.

Anyhow, this is another fun read by Daryl Gregory. I’m convinced he can write anything and I hope he does–write everything, I mean–because he’s got a great way with words, well-timed humor, and a way of turning familiar, tired, old tropes into something new and exciting. They’re still tropes, but he makes them fun to read.

This is my 4th Daryl Gregory book (Afterparty, We Are All Completely Fine, Raising Stony Mayhall), and I still find him exciting. It’s still exciting to see his name on the new release list, and I’m still trying to make room in my reading schedule for his latest, Spoonbenders.

Every autumn, I try to plan a vaguely Halloween-themed reading list, but rarely follow through because I’m a mood reader, forever destined to follow whatever the mood calls for. So I pick up whatever that “feels right.” Some years I get lucky and end up with vaguely autumnal books, and other years I get typical YA paranormals (because people keep recommending them). This year, though, I’ve been lucky in my picks. Almost every book picked up from the beginning of October to now goes quite well with Halloween. They all have that quintessential chilling undertone that I always associate with this time of the year, and this book is among the best of them.

In short, I was thinking about this book today and so just wanted to briefly recommend this book to anyone queuing up their autumn reading list. There’s a good blend of creepiness and humor, and the characters and setting are a lot of fun. If fishy dodgy small towns, open water, Lovecraftian sea creatures, and urban legends are any interest to you, I would highly recommend this book.

She looked up at us. “Who are you?”

“I’m Rosa Harrison,” Mom said.

“This is my son, Harrison.”

“And his first name?” She stared at me with tiny black eyes under fanlike eyelashes.

“Harrison,” I said. Sometimes—like now, for example—I regretted that my father’s family had decided that generations of boys would have that double name. Technically, I was Harrison Harrison the Fifth. H2x5 . But that was more information than I ever wanted to explain.

[…]

Dr. Herbert waved. This gesture was made a bit threatening due to the fact that he was holding a scalpel, and the sleeve of his coat was streaked with blood up to the elbow. His uncovered eye blinked wetly at me. “Have you taken biology?” the doctor asked.

“Freshman year,” I said.

“Oh,” the doctor said. He sounded disappointed. Suddenly he brightened. “Have you taken cryptobiology?”

I grinned. “In my family, cryptobiology isn’t a course, it’s dinner conversation.”

“I like this boy!” Dr. Herbert said.

[…]

This was the problem with a small school in a small town. Not only did the students all look like each other, they’d all developed the same nervous tics. It made me wonder about inbreeding. Take off their shoes, and did they have webbed feet? Was the weird-looking fish boy who’d stolen my book just a relative on the more damaged branch of the family tree?

[…]

Oh no, I thought. Physical Education.

And then I realized it was even more horrible than that. The boys began to pull on swim trunks. This wasn’t just PE; it was swimming.

Some of the boys glanced at me. I stood there, holding my backpack, not moving. I was not about to get naked in front of these ignorami. I waited until one by one they made their way out the far exit. When there were just a handful of boys left in the changing room, I went out to the pool.

[…]

I stood up and stifled a yelp. The pale shape coursed toward the edge of the pool at tremendous speed. At the last moment, the water broke, and the creature threw itself onto the deck. It slid a few feet, then threw out its arms and rose up on its belly like a walrus.

It was a man. A bald man, fat and white as a beluga. He smiled. “Who’s ready for laps?”

[…]

“When the supernatural turns out to be real, it’s not super natural anymore—it’s just nature. Yes, it may be strange, uncanny, or frightening. It’s always scary to find out that the world is bigger and more complex than you thought.”

[…]

They were all sure they’d fulfilled their holy duty and that the destruction of the human world was nigh.

Cults. They always thought the glass was half-doomed.

The Book of Jhereg (Vlad Taltos #1-3) by Steven Brust

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Jhereg: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
Yendi: ★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
Teckla: ★ ★ ★ ½ ☆
Date Read: December 16, 2016 to April 30, 2017

Amazing books. Amazing journey. Very memorable characters. I love Vlad and this world of dragons and dragon people and their layered politics, and I can’t wait to get started on the second omnibus.

I have a thing about reading series in order, and it was with a lot of reluctance and much hand-wringing that I read this series out of chronological order. I had gotten almost the whole series in these omnibus editions that “organized” the books in publication order (i.e. definitely not chronological order), and figuring out where to start or jump in took up too much time. So I just started with the first book of the first omnibus, which was Jhereg, and soon found that the order was not that big a deal for this series, as many people have told me before.

The order in which you read doesn’t affect your enjoyment that much because each book could be read as a standalone–sort of, “technically.” I could explain further now that I’ve read the first three books, set in three different points of Vlad Taltos’ life and career, but the explanation is… gonna get complicated, more complicated.

Suffice it to say I really enjoyed all three books, maybe the third one a little less than the previous two, but that’s only because it contained too many real life implications that mirrored some of my own and reading about those things are never fun.

The writing is great, however, and I never felt it faltering once. This doesn’t mean much unless or until you take into account the series’ complete timeline and you see where each book falls (how years apart they are, how much happens in between). Only Then you would realize the depth and complexity of this world and how writing a series out of order like this is unbelievably difficult. Steven Brust did this all the while maintaining continuity and coherence AND not letting the overarching story line falter, not even once.

It’s amazing, and I’m nothing short of impressed.

Carnival by Elizabeth Bear

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Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ½
Date Read: March 15 to 30, 2018

Between 4 and 5 stars, and easily one of the best books I’ve read this year.

at once familiar and alien, like coming home to a place where you used to live.

It must seem like all I do these days is like or fall in love with every book I read. Not so. I read sample chapters all the time and abandon lots of books. I just don’t record them. The ones I do record are usually the memorable ones, many just happen to be favorites. This book is one of them, and wholly unexpected too. The title and cover just don’t convey what’s actually in the book. I mean, could anyone guess what this book is about based on that?

Anyhow. This book is the most fun I’ve had with a political intrigue space opera that’s written in the style of the novel-of-manners in a while. There are depths and layers and it’s a sort of culmination of all the issues we face today, presented in exact strokes, except the story is set in a distant future on an Earth-like planet. But all the things plaguing our world today is still very much present in the distant future, a future in which we colonize planets yet still have time to persecute queer people and have a stranglehold on reproduction rights. It looks as though we did not learn from the past or reconcile with it, and so these problems rear their heads once more, with force, in the future. I think Elizabeth Bear is trying to say something… I just figure out what exactly…

There’s a lot to unpack here, and this book is very hard to sum up because there are too many moving parts and so many layers, and there are just so many things to talk about. But simply, the beauty of reading this is letting the world (and universe) and all its loaded political predicaments reveal themselves to you gradually as you read.

At the start, we have a pair of male agents from the Coalition (hegemony) entering a foreign planet called New Amazonia. Their official purpose is opening trade talks and placating the planet’s leaders, but their unofficial purpose is finding and stealing the planet’s mysterious, much sought after energy source. Since the Coalition has already tried to take the planet once, although unsuccessfully, the agents expect negotiations to be tense, if not outright hostile from the start.

The agents themselves are controversial figures in this already dicey situation. Old lovers, working for an intensely homophobic organization, separated for over 20 years after their affair was outed; it was a high-profile scandal that strained their careers. One of them was sent back to his planet; the other was put through the equivalent of conversion therapy. Now the agents are reunited once again for this mission, which they are expected not only to fail but to fail spectacularly. To add more layers to an already layered problem, each agent has his own agenda and secret mission to carry out once on the planet, unbeknownst to the other.

New Amazonia is ruled by a matriarchal system, and it’s very much what you might imagine if you were to imagine the exact opposite of a patriarchal system. Saying any more would… spoil the fun, but hopefully some of the choice quotes below will give you a glimpse of the matriarchy at work. In short, there’s a lot of tension here and a lot of planet-side factions reacting to the agents’ presence; some are in support of, while most seem to be against.

Of course, not all is harmonious in New Amazonia. There is dissent among the population in the form of fringe groups, and many of them are men’s rights groups to advocate for men’s rights under the strictly matriarchal leadership. There is literally “a radical male-rights movement called Parity,” pronounced “parody,” and I just… This book was published in 2006. Once again, I think Ms. Bear is trying to tell us something, but I just can’t figure out what…

Every player in this game has hidden agendas, and they all are working against each other. So there’s a lot of sparring, scheming, duplicity, and intrigue. The dialogue is easily my favorite thing about this book. Every scene in which the characters discuss a matter of state or business, usually over a banquet, the interaction is heady and charged with a delicious, electric current. The whole book is politically delicious, and I enjoyed the hell out of it.

There are some instances and moments that I think were a bit too exacting, too obvious, with the messages conveyed and I thought they could have benefited from some subtlety, but overall, I like this book. I like what it is and what it’s meant to be.

“Now that we’ve established that we think each other monsters, do you suppose we can get back to business?”

[…]

The Coalition was a typical example of what men did to women when given half an excuse: petty restrictions, self-congratulatory patronization, and a slew of justifications that amounted to men asserting their property rights.

[…]

“Not only will whoever’s on top fight to stay there, but if you reset everyone to equality, whoever wins the scramble for power will design the rules to stay there.”

[…]

“Just because we’ve disavowed Old Earth history doesn’t mean we fail to study it. You can file that one with sense of humor, if you like.”

[…]

“Traditionally, the responsibility for safety falls on the victim. Women are expected to defend themselves from predators. To act like responsible prey. Limit risks, not take chances. Not to go out alone at night. Not talk to strange men. Rely on their own, presumably domesticated men for protection from other feral men—in exchange for granting them property rights over the women in question.”

“And the New Amazonian system is superior in what way?”

“Punishes the potential predator and arms the potential victim. If men cannot control themselves, control will be instituted. Potential predators are caged, regulated.”

[…]

This is what we are when we’re left to our own devices—savage, selfish, short-sighted. […] But free. Any government founded on a political or religious agenda more elaborate than “protect the weak, temper the strong” is doomed to tyranny.

[…]

“So slavery is more moral than engineering out aggression.”

“It’s not chattel slavery.”

“No,” Kusanagi-Jones said. “An extreme sort of second-class citizenship.”

“Not much worse than women in the Coalition.”

“Women in the Coalition can vote, can work—”

“Can be elected to the government.”

“Theoretically.”

“Practically?”

“Doesn’t happen.”

[…]

There were a lot of weird worlds, a lot of political structures based on points of philosophy. Not all the ships of the Diaspora had been faster than light, even; humanity had scrambled off Earth in any rowboat or leaky bucket that might hold them, and dead ships were still found floating between the stars, full of frozen corpses.

Vincent found it alternately creepy and reassuring when he considered that no matter how strange the culture might be, every single world out there, every instance of intelligent life that he had encountered, claimed common descent from Earth.

[…]

Strike two for utopia. The problem with the damned things always comes when you try to introduce actual people into your philosophical constructs.

Another excellent buddy read with Beth.

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn

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Rating: ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆
Date Read: January 9 to 14, 2018

I first read this book in 2011 which wasn’t that long ago and normally I can recall basic story elements fairly well. Not in detail, but general things like plots, endings, and main characters.

Not with this book though. Usually it takes me about a couple of pages into the book to remember the plot and then everything else comes back to me gradually in bits and pieces, but with this book, I had to get to over 40% before I could vaguely recall the main character and the ending… but not much else. This reread was like reading for the first time.

It’s not that this book is forgettable. More like the premise has been done too many times before in contemporary mysteries. You have a troubled main character with a turbulent life who returns to her hometown and stumbles upon a mystery that’s very close to her heart. It’s strange but also familiar to her, and to no one’s surprise, it has connections to her trouble past. So she takes it upon herself to investigate this case–she’s a journalist, by the way–and chases down every twisted lead. And each lead is a major trigger for her that brings up all sorts of darkness from the past. After a series of close-calls and heart-pounding, page-turning chapters, she solves the case, although not well and gets very little closure at the end.

The one thing that sets this book apart from others like it is the voice. It’s told in Gillian Flynn’s particular style, like Gone Girl but better and more nuanced imo. The writing more disorganized and less theatrical. More unpredictable and more organic, less tightly controlled. It delves deep into the frayed psyche of a life-long cutter who has never really had a chance to work through any of her problems. There were many moments in which I wished I could have looked away, but couldn’t because the Flynn had me on the edge of my seat.

Flynn has a way of getting under a character’s skin (and my skin), and she projects her voice poignantly on a variety of issues. I don’t necessarily like her characters or even enjoy the stories she’s telling–although “enjoy” is not the right word here, feels too tacky–but I’m always interested in what she has to say and how she says it.

“It’s impossible to compete with the dead. I wished I could stop trying.”

[…]

“I just think some women aren’t made to be mothers. And some women aren’t made to be daughters.”

[…]

“Safer to be feared than loved.”

[…]

“I ached once, hard, like a period typed at the end of a sentence.”

A word of warning though. Cutting and self-harm are featured heavily in this book, in excruciating detail.

* * * * *

Rereading because I honestly don’t remember having read this book. Like at all.

It’s like

* * * * *

Just as twisted and disturbing as Gone Girl, but a lot better in terms of execution… (pun not intended?).

Touch by Claire North

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Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Date read: January 2 to 8, 2018

This is my first read of the year, and already it’s starting out with a high. Solid 5 stars through and through.

So brilliant, so beautiful, and absolutely breathtaking. I have no words for what I am feeling right now after having just turned the last page. And now that this book is over, I am utterly lost. Why couldn’t it be longer? Why isn’t there more? And yet it ended on such a perfect note. I haven’t read a plot coming together this succinctly in a while, so I am currently basking in the brilliance of all the pieces falling into place.

An immortal entity called Kepler has the ability to jump from body to body and take over it completely. He becomes that person for a period of time and lives their life–works their job, interacts with their friends and family, drives their car, wears their clothes, spends their money–and then he jumps to another body when he’s done with that life or gets bored. And he’s been doing it for centuries. He’s lived a multitude of lives, as men, as women, old, young, rich, poor, and everything in between.

And then one day, while in a new body and enjoying the novelty of the new body, he is gunned down on the street. Right after he is shot though, he jumps into this killer’s body and takes it over. What follows is an intense, white-knuckle race across Europe to find out who is out to kill him. To do so, he has to work backwards starting with his killer’s identity and working back to his associates and all their tangled connections and then all the way back to the person who hired him. Each leg of the journey reveals something shocking about himself, all the lives he’s lived, all the people he’s known, and the person who’s after him.

Kepler is… hard to define and not a character you could easily root for. He’s also a lot of things, but at the core, he is selfish. He wants to live and continue living, at the expense of the people whose lives he takes over. All his actions and motivations are aimed at this simple truth: he wants to live. This precisely why I find him totally believable as an immortal. He may be selfish, but at least he’s honest about his selfishness and will to live. He makes no excuses because he has this need that drives him to live life to the fullest and experience all that life has to offer, even when it’s someone else’s life and he is just borrowing it for the moment.

Most of the immortals in books I’ve read never achieve this level of selfishness or honesty. They were all too human in their wants and needs. Some even went as far as giving up their immortality for love. (Yes, for love… and that’s totally believable because… reasons?) Kepler though is utterly, single-mindedly a glutton for life, and he lives in such a way that makes you want to life your life to its fullest potential.

Aside from brilliant, this book is also slippery, difficult to grasp and even more difficult hang onto. It took over my every waking moment for the past week and a half and yet it feels like no time has passed at all. It feels like I inhaled a whole new world in one sitting, and now I am slowly returning to mine and feeling as though something is missing, as though there is a hole the exact shape of this book missing from my life and it’s a weighty kind of absence. The remedy for that is to read more Claire North, and I will soon, but not just yet. I’m not ready to move on away from this book yet. This book hangover needs to linger and work itself out before I can move on.

Claire North is a genius, which comes as no surprise to me since I know her from her Kate Griffin days with the brilliant and brilliantly satisfying urban fantasy series Matthew Swift. But this book is something else altogether. Very different, very unexpected, an all-consuming experience I was not ready for. And yet, it has Kate Griffin’s fingerprints in the details. So familiar and welcoming, it’s like coming home again. No one can make cities, lifetimes, and urban magic come alive like she can.

Meticulously written, beautifully executed. Every word, every line has a purpose. No space wasted. No time wasted. I loved everything about this book.

“Nothing is ever quite enough. No matter who you are, there’s always something more to be had, which could be yours if only you were someone else.”

[…]

“Their fear is the fear of the funfair ride where reason tells you the seat belt will keep you safe. True fear is the fear of doubt; it is the mind that will not sleep, the open space at your back where the murderer stands with the axe. It is the gasp of a shadow passed whose cause you cannot see, the laughter of a stranger whose laugh, you know, laughs at you.”

[…]

“It is perhaps the simplicity of his affection, the patience of his understanding and loyalty that makes him too easy to love, for his love is taken for granted by many, who give back nothing in return.”

[…]

“I have no time for boiled sausages, or boiled vegetables of any nature really, and cannot for the life of me comprehend why anyone would still insist on serving dishes whose whole cooking process consisted of exposure to water, to freely invited guests.”

[…]

“How the fuck do I know that my better is anything more than the great big fat lie we tell ourselves to justify the slow fat nothing of our days.”

I’m not surprised Kate Griffin can write a believable immortal. She can write anything and make you believe it. It’s witchcraft.

 

City of Bones by Martha Wells

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Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Date read: February 20 to 28, 2018

Still a fantastic read the second time around. Don’t know how it’s possible, but I think I love it more this time around.

This book hits all of my fantasy requirements:

  • desert setting (plus, it’s also post-apocalyptic)
  • unique city (it’s a multi-level tower)
  • intricate socioeconomic system
  • intricate caste system (lots of minute but interesting details)
  • political intrigue
  • a cast of outcast characters (that you can’t help but get attached to)
  • lots of dry, self-deprecating humor
  • which makes the interactions between the characters hilarious
  • an ancient, archaeological mystery

The book goes one step further by topping the whole thing off with a high-stakes scavenger hunt that takes the characters through the city and out into the desert, but that’s not all, it ends with an unexpected but worthwhile ending. Very well done overall.

The writing is very detailed without being bogged down by too many unnecessary scenes or exposition, a signature style of Martha Wells. You get a clear picture of the city and many of its tiers, but you don’t get bogged down by pages and pages of descriptions or backstory. All the attention to details may sound like a lot to wade through before you get to good part of the plot, but that’s not it at all. The writing is a breeze and very easy to read. It sweeps you up and takes you right into the heart of the desert without any drudgery.

I really liked this book the first time I read it because of its distinctive take on the desert fantasy setting, and the ending turned “really like” into love. It was precisely the right note this story needed to push it from just fantasy into something more, something memorable. Although that is kind of ironic for me to say because, over the years, I have forgotten a lot of the story, but that ending still stayed with me. It’s still as clear in my mind as the day I first read it. And in reading it again, I’m able to really appreciate all the work that went into this book.

* * * * *

Rereading with Beth via the audiobook.

Read by Kyle McCarley. You may know him from his fantastic reading of The Goblin Emperor.

* * * * *

Review of first read from March 2014