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tracey_stewart's review
3.0
I've developed a prejudice against books with 16-year-old protagonists. There are almost as many book synopses that start with "16-year-old so and so…" as there are book titles along the lines of Somebody's Daughter or Wife or Sister or whatever. I've begun to find those descriptions immediately off-putting.
Fortunately, I usually don't read synopses before I start books these days, so Hank, 16-year-old protagonist of Dust Bath Revival, slipped by me. I'm glad. Because this is a stay-up-past-your-bedtime kind of book, a one-more-chapter no-I-can't-stop-now sort of book, and Hank isn't the typical 16-year-old all those books center on. When I say that throughout the early chapters of the book she and her big brother Ben continually reminded me of Scout and Jem Finch, Marianne Kirby needs to take it as one of the biggest compliments I can give.
What is it that's in the dust, in the dusk, that kills chickens and terrifies people so? The first few chapters, with the edge of fear under ordinary interactions, the tattered red baseball cap, and the scattering of white feathers, did a remarkable, subtle job of making it very clear that I should be afraid, very afraid… even without knowing why.
Spielberg accidentally discovered that it's a lot scarier when you don't see the shark.
When the shark in this case, the Reborn, is revealed – and especially when the mechanics behind the shark are revealed… then, unfortunately, a lot of the subtle, a lot of the afraid, and a lot of my compliments dried up. From the moment that something, shall we unspoilerishly say, happens to Ben and Hank begins to fend for herself, I disagreed with the way things were going. I didn't like it in terms of the story, it didn't make sense to me in terms of storytelling, and where it was going was not the direction I was interested in. It was as if, being thirsty, I wanted to head toward a well, and the book had me by the hand dragging me away.
And if I didn't like the first major turn in the story, I have to say I absolutely hated where it went from there. It was still compelling to read, but where in the beginning the compulsion was positive, by the end it was partly annoyance and partly being close enough to the end that I wanted to just push on and finish.
I am probably supposed to heap kudos on the author for having a young lesbian as a main character, and I will say that I congratulate her for presenting Hank and her budding sexuality as just what it is – not as an aberration, not as anything wrong or right or sinful or correct, just what is. My only objection to any of it was the simple fact that I'm just uninterested in a teenager fumbling his or her way through first love or lust, of the same or any other gender, which I guess is why I generally steer wide of young adult novels. (Did I know Dust Bath Revival was YA when I requested it? I seem to think not.)
I wish I could have read the book I thought it was going to be in the beginning.
But remember: Always carry a chicken when you cross a bridge.
The usual disclaimer: I received this book from the publisher for review.
Fortunately, I usually don't read synopses before I start books these days, so Hank, 16-year-old protagonist of Dust Bath Revival, slipped by me. I'm glad. Because this is a stay-up-past-your-bedtime kind of book, a one-more-chapter no-I-can't-stop-now sort of book, and Hank isn't the typical 16-year-old all those books center on. When I say that throughout the early chapters of the book she and her big brother Ben continually reminded me of Scout and Jem Finch, Marianne Kirby needs to take it as one of the biggest compliments I can give.
What is it that's in the dust, in the dusk, that kills chickens and terrifies people so? The first few chapters, with the edge of fear under ordinary interactions, the tattered red baseball cap, and the scattering of white feathers, did a remarkable, subtle job of making it very clear that I should be afraid, very afraid… even without knowing why.
Spielberg accidentally discovered that it's a lot scarier when you don't see the shark.
When the shark in this case, the Reborn, is revealed – and especially when the mechanics behind the shark are revealed… then, unfortunately, a lot of the subtle, a lot of the afraid, and a lot of my compliments dried up. From the moment that something, shall we unspoilerishly say, happens to Ben and Hank begins to fend for herself, I disagreed with the way things were going. I didn't like it in terms of the story, it didn't make sense to me in terms of storytelling, and where it was going was not the direction I was interested in. It was as if, being thirsty, I wanted to head toward a well, and the book had me by the hand dragging me away.
And if I didn't like the first major turn in the story, I have to say I absolutely hated where it went from there. It was still compelling to read, but where in the beginning the compulsion was positive, by the end it was partly annoyance and partly being close enough to the end that I wanted to just push on and finish.
I am probably supposed to heap kudos on the author for having a young lesbian as a main character, and I will say that I congratulate her for presenting Hank and her budding sexuality as just what it is – not as an aberration, not as anything wrong or right or sinful or correct, just what is. My only objection to any of it was the simple fact that I'm just uninterested in a teenager fumbling his or her way through first love or lust, of the same or any other gender, which I guess is why I generally steer wide of young adult novels. (Did I know Dust Bath Revival was YA when I requested it? I seem to think not.)
I wish I could have read the book I thought it was going to be in the beginning.
But remember: Always carry a chicken when you cross a bridge.
The usual disclaimer: I received this book from the publisher for review.
urlphantomhive's review
4.0
3.5 Stars
Read all my reviews on http://urlphantomhive.booklikes.com
Hank is rather used to her life. The Dust is so many years ago that no one is really scared by the Revived anymore. However, it might be there are more dangerous things lurking around the corner.
It was not the read that I expected, but I enjoyed it nevertheless. I'd expected a zombie story, but zombies really made up only a fraction of the story. It was a bit confusing at times (because not all seemed to make sense) but I forgave the book since Hank was a nice character (although at some times she really should have been a bit more pro-active).
I'm curious to see where the story is going, so I will certainly pick up the next book in the series!
Thanks to the publisher for providing me with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!
Read all my reviews on http://urlphantomhive.booklikes.com
Hank is rather used to her life. The Dust is so many years ago that no one is really scared by the Revived anymore. However, it might be there are more dangerous things lurking around the corner.
It was not the read that I expected, but I enjoyed it nevertheless. I'd expected a zombie story, but zombies really made up only a fraction of the story. It was a bit confusing at times (because not all seemed to make sense) but I forgave the book since Hank was a nice character (although at some times she really should have been a bit more pro-active).
I'm curious to see where the story is going, so I will certainly pick up the next book in the series!
Thanks to the publisher for providing me with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!
kiwie's review
4.0
I did not like this at first, but it surprised me and I read it in one sitting. Once I got past the initial set up of the story (about when Seymour and his crew came) it got pretty decent. The story took some turns I didn't expect, and I was endlessly frustrated with the lack of answers. This better get that sequel.
gretchening's review
4.0
A worthy addition to the genre of zombie novels, the highlight of this one for me was the voice, which evokes the Southern character of Henry and draws her world to brutal life. Henry is a queer fat girl growing up in an isolated farm near a small rural community uncovering secrets in her dangerous life. Great character and muscular prose make this a winner.
j00j's review
4.0
I really enjoyed this! Kirby paints a vivid, visceral picture of a near-future US where fear of zombies (and becoming a zombie yourself) dominates nearly every aspect of life. I really appreciate her thoughtful, detailed descriptions of the South and country life, and the unsettling sweetness of much of the story. It's more on the subtle end of the spectrum, which works for me as someone who doesn't usually do horror or zombies.
And of course, I finished this while my train was stuck, and I was hungry...
And of course, I finished this while my train was stuck, and I was hungry...
melanie_page's review
4.0
That cover certainly sets the tone, doesn’t it? Dust Bath Revival by Marianne Kirby scared me right away. We’re in Florida, but everything is hot and dusty. So many things were “off” in this futuristic, apocalyptic setting. The general stores has mirrors so you can see “what was coming up behind you.” People burn fields when the crops are moved in the middle of the night. I thought this was a book about zombies, but Kirby avoided all cliches about the creatures. I was 100% unnerved by the end of chapter 1. . .
Hank, a sixteen-year-old fat girl, spends all day doing chores, particularly minding the chickens. Her brother, Ben, who is eighteen, has his own chores, and both listen to their Aunt Marty without question. Parents? Dead. The threesome live outside of town, outside the protection of walls, which kind of makes them safer away from the center of things, but leaves them exposed, too. No one travels in the dark. Hank, Ben, and Marty rarely go into town, but the novella opens with Hank and Ben at the general store where they buy essentials. One scene gives you a feel for the characters’ fear:
From her first-person point of view, Hank explains the ubiquitous dust. People believe the dust is what changed everyone, why “the Reborn rose. And they were always more active after a storm, regardless of how they had been made” (emphasis mine — note that zombies aren’t typically made in different ways). An interesting aspect of Dust Bath Revival is that we don’t know anything. Kirby doesn’t follow a traditional zombie narrative, so everything is a surprise. Typically, a zombie is made when one is bitten by a zombie (like in Dawn of the Dead). In some cases, there’s something that infects everyone so that no matter how they die, they becomes zombies (like in The Walking Dead). There are also the zombies created by any blood exchange (e.g. 28 Days Later).
But in Dust Bath Revival, rumors are key more so than stereotypes of zombies. You’re always scared waiting for what’s going to happen, and the more rumors Hank shares, the more paranoid I grew that everyone was trying to kill this teen, who is more keen on kissing Jenny and throwing the deadbolt on thick doors after dark than understanding her setting. Children barely go to school, so no one has a grasp on rhetoric, preventing them from logically sorting fact from fiction.
Because there are so many unproven rumors, at times I wondered if I would be able to discern the truth based on information Hank feeds readers. I couldn’t. At times, Hank makes assumptions, other times she sees proof, then there’s the anecdotal evidence and leaps in logic to suit her reasoning. She’s completely unreliable, but not maliciously so. Mostly, I felt like I was rolling with it and didn’t question Hank’s choices. She is a sixteen-year-old girl living in an apocalyptic world. Since I was living alongside panicked Hank, there were times I couldn’t make a story arc in my head, and the book ends without major resolutions (it does “conclude,” but not wrap up the story). On the cover, we see “Feral Seasons Book One.” Goodreads has a cover and synopsis for book two . . . but it’s not available. When I wrote to Marianne Kirby about it on Twitter, she ignored me. Girl, don’t be like that!
Although I was scared, I was still happy that Hank never lets us forget that she’s a fat teen girl. Her body is described naturally when needed, such as how her stomach feels when she’s close to Jenny or what it’s like to get sweaty in Florida in a fat body. Then, there is the attention Hank has to her uterus. I always wonder why first-person female narrators don’t mention this like cramps or periods, but it dawns on Hank right when she begins to menstruate, and how she ran off without thinking to pack pads — and now she’s out in the woods, talking to a stranger, and she can feel her underpants getting wet. Those sorts of visceral details remind me that many women have this shared experience, and that I’m not alone in it.
A scary novella that skips on the gore, Marianne Kirby has given readers something unique, faithful to the human experience, and exciting to read.
This review was originally published at Grab the Lapels.
Hank, a sixteen-year-old fat girl, spends all day doing chores, particularly minding the chickens. Her brother, Ben, who is eighteen, has his own chores, and both listen to their Aunt Marty without question. Parents? Dead. The threesome live outside of town, outside the protection of walls, which kind of makes them safer away from the center of things, but leaves them exposed, too. No one travels in the dark. Hank, Ben, and Marty rarely go into town, but the novella opens with Hank and Ben at the general store where they buy essentials. One scene gives you a feel for the characters’ fear:
“You riding up front or what?”One day, a vehicle pulls up to the house first thing in the morning. These folks aren’t from around here, which means they’ve been travelling through the night — in the dark. A preacher asks Marty if he can use one of her fields for a stint of time to hold revivals. The money offered is too good to refuse, and the preacher’s team gets to work setting up a large tent. If you’re a fan of horror, everything at this point spells bad news. Regardless of the heat and dust, people flock to the tent to see what the preacher has in a cage.
I set my jaw, ground me teeth in aggravation until I could hear them squeak. “I’ll ride in back.”
It wasn’t a smart choice — the sun was already fading and the truck bed wasn’t real protected of even all that comfortable. I could sit on the rolled-up tarp we’d never gotten around to putting anywhere else, but there wasn’t any place to hide. We could stand to lose a bag of light bulbs or produce if it came down to it, but I would be so easy to replace if anything happened.
From her first-person point of view, Hank explains the ubiquitous dust. People believe the dust is what changed everyone, why “the Reborn rose. And they were always more active after a storm, regardless of how they had been made” (emphasis mine — note that zombies aren’t typically made in different ways). An interesting aspect of Dust Bath Revival is that we don’t know anything. Kirby doesn’t follow a traditional zombie narrative, so everything is a surprise. Typically, a zombie is made when one is bitten by a zombie (like in Dawn of the Dead). In some cases, there’s something that infects everyone so that no matter how they die, they becomes zombies (like in The Walking Dead). There are also the zombies created by any blood exchange (e.g. 28 Days Later).
But in Dust Bath Revival, rumors are key more so than stereotypes of zombies. You’re always scared waiting for what’s going to happen, and the more rumors Hank shares, the more paranoid I grew that everyone was trying to kill this teen, who is more keen on kissing Jenny and throwing the deadbolt on thick doors after dark than understanding her setting. Children barely go to school, so no one has a grasp on rhetoric, preventing them from logically sorting fact from fiction.
Because there are so many unproven rumors, at times I wondered if I would be able to discern the truth based on information Hank feeds readers. I couldn’t. At times, Hank makes assumptions, other times she sees proof, then there’s the anecdotal evidence and leaps in logic to suit her reasoning. She’s completely unreliable, but not maliciously so. Mostly, I felt like I was rolling with it and didn’t question Hank’s choices. She is a sixteen-year-old girl living in an apocalyptic world. Since I was living alongside panicked Hank, there were times I couldn’t make a story arc in my head, and the book ends without major resolutions (it does “conclude,” but not wrap up the story). On the cover, we see “Feral Seasons Book One.” Goodreads has a cover and synopsis for book two . . . but it’s not available. When I wrote to Marianne Kirby about it on Twitter, she ignored me. Girl, don’t be like that!
Although I was scared, I was still happy that Hank never lets us forget that she’s a fat teen girl. Her body is described naturally when needed, such as how her stomach feels when she’s close to Jenny or what it’s like to get sweaty in Florida in a fat body. Then, there is the attention Hank has to her uterus. I always wonder why first-person female narrators don’t mention this like cramps or periods, but it dawns on Hank right when she begins to menstruate, and how she ran off without thinking to pack pads — and now she’s out in the woods, talking to a stranger, and she can feel her underpants getting wet. Those sorts of visceral details remind me that many women have this shared experience, and that I’m not alone in it.
A scary novella that skips on the gore, Marianne Kirby has given readers something unique, faithful to the human experience, and exciting to read.
This review was originally published at Grab the Lapels.
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