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patchworkbunny's Reviews (2.12k)
Harold and Maureen are a retired couple, driven apart emotionally by the actions of an absent son. One morning Harold receives a letter from Queenie Hennessy, a friend from his past. She has cancer and she is dying in a hospice in Berwick-Upon-Tweed, the other end of the country. Harold writes a reply and walks to the nearest postbox. But he doesn't post the letter there, he carries on, first to the next post box and then to the post office and then onwards, to put off posting his final words to Queenie. Then an unsuspecting girl in a garage gives him the idea; he will walk to her, whilst he is walking she will live. He will save Queenie.
Whilst not religious, Harold's walk is a true pilgrimage. He suffers blisters and rejects creature comforts. As he walks he meets people and shares their confidences, it is easier for them to unburden themselves to a passing stranger than someone close. Harold experiences the kindness of strangers as he tells them of his mission.
I don't live in Devon, but the next county over and I grew up near Kelso (somewhere briefly mentioned in his travels). The trip from south coast to Berwick is one I am familiar with but by train, and in more recent years by plane, because it's a long way. I couldn't imagine walking it ever and I'm less than half the age of Harold. He takes a long time to get out of Devon, and the bulk of the story takes place in the south west. Rachel Joyce lives in Gloucestershire so perhaps is a much more familiar area for her to write about. Still, it had that extra touch of a personal connection for me.
I felt the character of Maureen was a little flat and stereotypical at the start. As their story unravels, she becomes more real and some of the events in their past could explain it but I would have liked her to be a little more believable from page one. Harold and Maureen's relationship is reflective of many that go on behind closed doors. Together because they have been for so long but essentially living apart from one another.
I got a bit confused at times when Harold lapsed into his memories. It wasn't always clear what was present day but he comments on past and present merging in his mind so it may have been intentional. Reading between the lines, I worked out what was going on quite early but the journey is more important than the final reveal in any case.
At one point Harold is proud that he is averaging 8 miles a day. Even if he's only managing to walk as a slow 2mph then that means he was only walking 4 hours a day. I think the author needed to give him a little more credit, especially once he had found his stride. If I was walking to save someone's life, I wouldn't be dawdling so much.
I liked the snippets of British life that Harold observes as he walks. From the hedgerows to the random things left out on streets and the odd characters that we would normally try and ignore.
At the centre is message that we shouldn't take life for granted. Behind the pain of living, there is goodness in people and we should have a little faith. Not in god but in others and yourself. It's both sweet and moving and will leave you reaching for the hankies.
Whilst not religious, Harold's walk is a true pilgrimage. He suffers blisters and rejects creature comforts. As he walks he meets people and shares their confidences, it is easier for them to unburden themselves to a passing stranger than someone close. Harold experiences the kindness of strangers as he tells them of his mission.
I don't live in Devon, but the next county over and I grew up near Kelso (somewhere briefly mentioned in his travels). The trip from south coast to Berwick is one I am familiar with but by train, and in more recent years by plane, because it's a long way. I couldn't imagine walking it ever and I'm less than half the age of Harold. He takes a long time to get out of Devon, and the bulk of the story takes place in the south west. Rachel Joyce lives in Gloucestershire so perhaps is a much more familiar area for her to write about. Still, it had that extra touch of a personal connection for me.
I felt the character of Maureen was a little flat and stereotypical at the start. As their story unravels, she becomes more real and some of the events in their past could explain it but I would have liked her to be a little more believable from page one. Harold and Maureen's relationship is reflective of many that go on behind closed doors. Together because they have been for so long but essentially living apart from one another.
I got a bit confused at times when Harold lapsed into his memories. It wasn't always clear what was present day but he comments on past and present merging in his mind so it may have been intentional. Reading between the lines, I worked out what was going on quite early but the journey is more important than the final reveal in any case.
At one point Harold is proud that he is averaging 8 miles a day. Even if he's only managing to walk as a slow 2mph then that means he was only walking 4 hours a day. I think the author needed to give him a little more credit, especially once he had found his stride. If I was walking to save someone's life, I wouldn't be dawdling so much.
I liked the snippets of British life that Harold observes as he walks. From the hedgerows to the random things left out on streets and the odd characters that we would normally try and ignore.
At the centre is message that we shouldn't take life for granted. Behind the pain of living, there is goodness in people and we should have a little faith. Not in god but in others and yourself. It's both sweet and moving and will leave you reaching for the hankies.
On the inside, August is a normal 10 year old boy. Born with severe facial deformities, he has been home schooled until now. This is the story of his first year at school.
Wonder is told from a variety of first person perspectives, starting with August himself. Things don't seem all that bad from his point of view and as you read on you get the sense that he has really come to terms with how he looks and what people think of him. I was thinking everyone seems far too kind to be real but that is only how he sees it.
It's only when you get to his sister Via's narrative that you are told what August looks like and get a real sense of the reactions towards him. It seems odd that August's condition isn't named and Via goes so far to say it doesn't even have a name. I wonder if this is to deter younger readings from googling images? August does in fact have Treacher Collins Syndrome, in which the facial bones fail to develop fully in the womb. This causes a number of problems including difficulty with breathing, eating and even hearing as the inner ear is made up of tiny bones. However mentally, people with TCS are just like anyone else.
The story is also told from the point of view of August's friends, Summer and Jack, and Via's friend Miranda and boyfriend Justin. I get that Justin was used as an outside perspective but his section is told in lower case and without speech marks which made it hard to follow. It makes the point that August's family don't judge on appearances but I really don't see the point in the change of style. Justin suffers from a tic and the writing style makes you think he may have learning difficulties but does this not go against the whole point of the book, do not judge people on things outside of their control?
The alternating narrators are otherwise used to great effect. It is all about perspectives and goes to show what we display on the outside is not always what's going on inside our heads. Personally, I would have liked one of the parents' perspective but there does seem an unwritten rule in young adult that anyone over 20 doesn't get a featured role. Also all the narrators are very sympathetic characters, it would have been interesting to know what was going on in Julian's head.
I was glad that Palacio included the passage where Jack's little brother is scared of August. When I think back on all the things I was scared of when I was little, disfigured faces were high up on the list. Not in a malicious way or even a learned fear, it is something that is instinctive. The first time I watched The Goonies, Sloth terrified me, and he turns out to be one of the good guys. It is of course awful for August that he is feared, but it is one of the most real parts of the story.
There are some really moving parts but I think the bullying is watered down a little to what it would be in reality. Kids can be cruel but even the bully character, Julian, seems sanitised. Either they seem too mature for their age or they are not old enough to have developed the bitchiness that comes with hormones and peer pressure. The ending was too unbelievable for me but works as a moral message.
Wonder is told from a variety of first person perspectives, starting with August himself. Things don't seem all that bad from his point of view and as you read on you get the sense that he has really come to terms with how he looks and what people think of him. I was thinking everyone seems far too kind to be real but that is only how he sees it.
It's only when you get to his sister Via's narrative that you are told what August looks like and get a real sense of the reactions towards him. It seems odd that August's condition isn't named and Via goes so far to say it doesn't even have a name. I wonder if this is to deter younger readings from googling images? August does in fact have Treacher Collins Syndrome, in which the facial bones fail to develop fully in the womb. This causes a number of problems including difficulty with breathing, eating and even hearing as the inner ear is made up of tiny bones. However mentally, people with TCS are just like anyone else.
The story is also told from the point of view of August's friends, Summer and Jack, and Via's friend Miranda and boyfriend Justin. I get that Justin was used as an outside perspective but his section is told in lower case and without speech marks which made it hard to follow. It makes the point that August's family don't judge on appearances but I really don't see the point in the change of style. Justin suffers from a tic and the writing style makes you think he may have learning difficulties but does this not go against the whole point of the book, do not judge people on things outside of their control?
The alternating narrators are otherwise used to great effect. It is all about perspectives and goes to show what we display on the outside is not always what's going on inside our heads. Personally, I would have liked one of the parents' perspective but there does seem an unwritten rule in young adult that anyone over 20 doesn't get a featured role. Also all the narrators are very sympathetic characters, it would have been interesting to know what was going on in Julian's head.
I was glad that Palacio included the passage where Jack's little brother is scared of August. When I think back on all the things I was scared of when I was little, disfigured faces were high up on the list. Not in a malicious way or even a learned fear, it is something that is instinctive. The first time I watched The Goonies, Sloth terrified me, and he turns out to be one of the good guys. It is of course awful for August that he is feared, but it is one of the most real parts of the story.
There are some really moving parts but I think the bullying is watered down a little to what it would be in reality. Kids can be cruel but even the bully character, Julian, seems sanitised. Either they seem too mature for their age or they are not old enough to have developed the bitchiness that comes with hormones and peer pressure. The ending was too unbelievable for me but works as a moral message.
Fin Macleod left the Isle of Lewis to go to university of the mainland and never looked back. When a murder on the island is linked to an unsolved case of his in Edinburgh, Fin is sent back to Lewis to investigate. He has just lost his son and feels he has nothing keeping him in the city, although it is the final straw for his wife. The island represents his past and memories best left forgotten.
The Black House was not what I was expecting. The initial crime gets a bit forgotten about as Fin goes about the island, meeting old friends and acquaintances. Much of the book is told in flashbacks to his past and I felt there weren't enough clues to link it together, except for the location and the fact that everyone seems to know everyone. Looking at it as general fiction and not a crime thriller, I enjoyed reading about life on the island, both past and present. It is starting to edge into the 21st century and the island religion is starting to lose its grip on the community.
I picked up the book for the Lewis connection so I wasn't disappointed from that point of view. The story is full of traditions and little tidbits of island life. An important event in the plot, is the annual trip out to An Sgeir (Sula Sgeir) to harvest young gannets for the Lewis delicacy, guga. A group of men set out to live on this lump of rock in the North Atlantic for two weeks each year, often in hostile conditions. It is seen as a right of passage and May also includes the objections of animal rights activists in the book.
I felt by the end that I'd maybe missed something as the conclusion was reached all of a sudden. The man that was murdered had plenty of enemies but there never really seems to be a suspect until the climax, which was pretty exciting at least. The present day is told in third person narrative but the flashbacks are first person from Fin's perspective. Without giving much away, I feel that Fin is rather an unreliable narrator although I wish I had time to go back and re-read some parts to make sure.
The Black House is the first in a trilogy, with The Lewis Man currently available in hardback. Now that all of Fin's ghosts are out in the open, I am looking forward to reading more in the present day.
The Black House was not what I was expecting. The initial crime gets a bit forgotten about as Fin goes about the island, meeting old friends and acquaintances. Much of the book is told in flashbacks to his past and I felt there weren't enough clues to link it together, except for the location and the fact that everyone seems to know everyone. Looking at it as general fiction and not a crime thriller, I enjoyed reading about life on the island, both past and present. It is starting to edge into the 21st century and the island religion is starting to lose its grip on the community.
I picked up the book for the Lewis connection so I wasn't disappointed from that point of view. The story is full of traditions and little tidbits of island life. An important event in the plot, is the annual trip out to An Sgeir (Sula Sgeir) to harvest young gannets for the Lewis delicacy, guga. A group of men set out to live on this lump of rock in the North Atlantic for two weeks each year, often in hostile conditions. It is seen as a right of passage and May also includes the objections of animal rights activists in the book.
I felt by the end that I'd maybe missed something as the conclusion was reached all of a sudden. The man that was murdered had plenty of enemies but there never really seems to be a suspect until the climax, which was pretty exciting at least. The present day is told in third person narrative but the flashbacks are first person from Fin's perspective. Without giving much away, I feel that Fin is rather an unreliable narrator although I wish I had time to go back and re-read some parts to make sure.
The Black House is the first in a trilogy, with The Lewis Man currently available in hardback. Now that all of Fin's ghosts are out in the open, I am looking forward to reading more in the present day.
There is a disc being passed round at Nick's school. It's shrouded in secrecy, no one will talk to him about it when he asks. One day, he finally gets given a copy but only after he has sworn to silence. It is a game, Erebos, where he must fight battles to gain levels and in order to be in with a chance of defeating Ortolan. They only get once chance to play the game and when they are close to dying, the mysterious messenger gives them a second chance. They must complete a task in the real world before they can continue to play the game.
The fictional game of Erebos has much in common with World of Warcraft and the story highlights the perils of gaming addiction, where the virtual world becomes more important than reality for these kids. It deals with peer pressure and the dangers of trusting unknown figures online. Is Erebos controlled by a person, artificial intelligences or is the game is simply alive?
The first half of the story has far too much in-game action which I found myself skimming over. I probably missed some of the important clues which were quite clever. Perhaps an avid gamer would find it more interesting, if they can drag themselves away from their computer long enough a read a book. The real life interactions are much more interesting and the second half is gripping stuff.
Originally written in German, set in London and translated by an Australian, it is odd that Erebos has an American tone. Kids here do not say mom or cell or gasoline. This edition has not been released by a British publisher and I would hope an editor would make those changes as it really doesn't sit right. It also puts me off reading other translations by Judith Pattinson. Part of a translator's job is to make the language fit the location as much as they can in the language they are using. I don't think British English is too different for an American audience to understand! The fact that it is set in London turns out to be quite important too and I wonder if it will go over the heads of those not familiar with the city.
The fictional game of Erebos has much in common with World of Warcraft and the story highlights the perils of gaming addiction, where the virtual world becomes more important than reality for these kids. It deals with peer pressure and the dangers of trusting unknown figures online. Is Erebos controlled by a person, artificial intelligences or is the game is simply alive?
The first half of the story has far too much in-game action which I found myself skimming over. I probably missed some of the important clues which were quite clever. Perhaps an avid gamer would find it more interesting, if they can drag themselves away from their computer long enough a read a book. The real life interactions are much more interesting and the second half is gripping stuff.
Originally written in German, set in London and translated by an Australian, it is odd that Erebos has an American tone. Kids here do not say mom or cell or gasoline. This edition has not been released by a British publisher and I would hope an editor would make those changes as it really doesn't sit right. It also puts me off reading other translations by Judith Pattinson. Part of a translator's job is to make the language fit the location as much as they can in the language they are using. I don't think British English is too different for an American audience to understand! The fact that it is set in London turns out to be quite important too and I wonder if it will go over the heads of those not familiar with the city.
Guy Langman joins the school Forensics Squad shortly after his father dies. It's only because his best friend has talked him into it...that and the fact that the girl he fancies is going to be there too. He soon learns that his father had been keeping secrets. Can he use his new found skills to discover the truth?
Guy is an awkward boy, he tries to be funny but doesn't quite make it. He knows that and so do those around him. It can be a bit annoying but he is a much more realistic portrayal of a teenage boy than some in young adult fiction. He's not going to sweep anyone off their feet but he's good deep down. Under the apathy he has for life.
If you're wary of a teenage crime-fighter, don't worry, this is not that book. He isn't going to be taking over from the police any time soon. It is much more about him coming to terms with the loss of his father as well as learning that purpose in life isn't such a bad thing. Neither is it a book to be taken too seriously. Some of the characters are a little stereotypical and I think it will appeal much more to a teen reader than an adult.
Guy is an awkward boy, he tries to be funny but doesn't quite make it. He knows that and so do those around him. It can be a bit annoying but he is a much more realistic portrayal of a teenage boy than some in young adult fiction. He's not going to sweep anyone off their feet but he's good deep down. Under the apathy he has for life.
If you're wary of a teenage crime-fighter, don't worry, this is not that book. He isn't going to be taking over from the police any time soon. It is much more about him coming to terms with the loss of his father as well as learning that purpose in life isn't such a bad thing. Neither is it a book to be taken too seriously. Some of the characters are a little stereotypical and I think it will appeal much more to a teen reader than an adult.
Oh Diving Belles, how I love thee so.
I would leave the review at that but I accept that it won't help you much. Diving Belles is a beautiful short story collection by Lucy Wood that weaves the sea, the land, the people and the mythology of Cornwall into enchanting yet modern tales.
There are tales of husbands lost at sea but not lost forever. The wife that takes a trip in a diving bell for one last encounter. The house, slowly reclaimed by the sea. The pagan care home. Tales of the young and of the old. Yet they feel very grounded in everyday life. The woman who is turning into stone checks that there's nothing in the fridge that will go off whilst she's otherwise engaged.
Notes from the House Spirits is probably my favourite story. Told from the point of view of the house or the spirits of the house, they watch humans come and go. They don't see things quite the same way we would yet they record the history of the house and its inhabitants. Odd that this is the least Cornish of the stories yet I absolutely adored her descriptions of the sea and coast in the others. The house could reside anywhere, though it does feel like a rural setting. I've always been fond of novels where the house is almost a character in the story so for one to revolve around it was a treat.
Even the placement of the final story is fitting, showing that it is a combined piece of work and not a random collection of short prose. The droll seems to pull together elements of the stories and also give the sense of an ending. Indeed, this quote may echo some of your feelings as you reach the end:
"So, he had let the stories slip away. They weren't buried anywhere. He thought they might have been buried somewhere. He realised now why the world had become flat and empty. Things were ending."
It's an accomplished first work. Even if you think you don't like short stories, I would urge you to give Diving Belles a try. I have been reading it between novels and now I feel a little book-shaped hole in my life.
I would leave the review at that but I accept that it won't help you much. Diving Belles is a beautiful short story collection by Lucy Wood that weaves the sea, the land, the people and the mythology of Cornwall into enchanting yet modern tales.
There are tales of husbands lost at sea but not lost forever. The wife that takes a trip in a diving bell for one last encounter. The house, slowly reclaimed by the sea. The pagan care home. Tales of the young and of the old. Yet they feel very grounded in everyday life. The woman who is turning into stone checks that there's nothing in the fridge that will go off whilst she's otherwise engaged.
Notes from the House Spirits is probably my favourite story. Told from the point of view of the house or the spirits of the house, they watch humans come and go. They don't see things quite the same way we would yet they record the history of the house and its inhabitants. Odd that this is the least Cornish of the stories yet I absolutely adored her descriptions of the sea and coast in the others. The house could reside anywhere, though it does feel like a rural setting. I've always been fond of novels where the house is almost a character in the story so for one to revolve around it was a treat.
Even the placement of the final story is fitting, showing that it is a combined piece of work and not a random collection of short prose. The droll seems to pull together elements of the stories and also give the sense of an ending. Indeed, this quote may echo some of your feelings as you reach the end:
"So, he had let the stories slip away. They weren't buried anywhere. He thought they might have been buried somewhere. He realised now why the world had become flat and empty. Things were ending."
It's an accomplished first work. Even if you think you don't like short stories, I would urge you to give Diving Belles a try. I have been reading it between novels and now I feel a little book-shaped hole in my life.
The great-granddaughter of a Titanic survivor, Edie is writing a thesis on the truth behind the fateful events of 15th April 1912. Heir to a banking fortune, she isn't interested in the family business and shuns her father's posh friends. Kit was accused of stealing gold from the sinking ship, could that be the secret to her family's success?
The Titanic connection is a bit thin and Good as Gold is much more about corrupt bankers than anything else. From the start, I felt that the characters would be more suited to 1912 than 2008, with their snobbish attitudes and feudal systems. There is an afterword about Louise Patten's findings of the Titanic disaster which is probably more useful if that's what you're looking for.
It was a book I almost put down. Bankers aren't exactly the most popular people at the moment and I was starting to think it was all about rich people and their obsession with boats. Edie may reject their ways but she still begs her family for the money to allow her to study. Yet it is easy reading and it suddenly gets gripping in the second half.
Half the problem is, it doesn't really know what it wants to be. Is a it a Bagshawesque commentry on the rich and their relationships? Is it a conspiracy thriller? Is it a genuine attempt to shed some light on the disaster? Or is it even crime? Just too many elements and not all of it interesting to me. The relationships developed all too quickly which made everyone seem a bit detached.
The Titanic connection is a bit thin and Good as Gold is much more about corrupt bankers than anything else. From the start, I felt that the characters would be more suited to 1912 than 2008, with their snobbish attitudes and feudal systems. There is an afterword about Louise Patten's findings of the Titanic disaster which is probably more useful if that's what you're looking for.
It was a book I almost put down. Bankers aren't exactly the most popular people at the moment and I was starting to think it was all about rich people and their obsession with boats. Edie may reject their ways but she still begs her family for the money to allow her to study. Yet it is easy reading and it suddenly gets gripping in the second half.
Half the problem is, it doesn't really know what it wants to be. Is a it a Bagshawesque commentry on the rich and their relationships? Is it a conspiracy thriller? Is it a genuine attempt to shed some light on the disaster? Or is it even crime? Just too many elements and not all of it interesting to me. The relationships developed all too quickly which made everyone seem a bit detached.
On his return from the First World War to Western Australia, Tom signs up to be a lighthouse keeper. The solitude is what he wants after the horrors of the front. He is lucky to be returning home, so many families have been destroyed, young men taken from their mothers far too early. On his way to the uninhabited island of Janus, he meets Isabel and falls in love. The life on the houses is not for everyone but Isabel wants nothing more to live with Tom and raise a family on the island. One night, a boat is washed ashore, containing a dead man and a baby, very much alive.
Well, this is one of those books that had tears streaming down my face by the end. The story is split into three parts, Tom's life before Isabel, the time spent on the island as a family and finally the gripping section on the mainland which I just couldn't put down. The first chapter draws you in and then, rightly so, the details are filled in afterwards.
I was first attracted to the book with by the lighthouse keeper's story. Nowadays, lighthouses are automated but before it used to be a brave and lonely job. M.L. Stedman gives us just enough information to satisfy curiosity without bogging the reader down. It takes a certain type of trustworthy man to take on the responsibility and this remains an important part of Tom's personality throughout everything that happens.
The central story, however, revolves around the baby, Lucy. Isabel has by this point suffered three miscarriages and is desperate for a child. So desperate that she decides to pass Lucy off as her own child. The setting of post WWI Australia makes this extra potent. There is a passage, very similar to one I quoted from Bereft, also set in the same time and place, about there is no word to describe a parent that has lost a child. Something that so many were suffering at the time. All the families on the mainland have lost someone, does that make Isabel's deception more understandable or worse?
It also deals with the prevalence of xenophobia in the days after the war. Driven on by the helplessness felt by those left behind, foreigners were scapegoats and those who consorted with them just as bad.
The title itself, literally describes the positioning of Janus, between the Indian Ocean and the Southern Ocean, right on the edge of the world. Yet it also could be used to describe Lucy, the centre of the world for two very different women. Or perhaps it is Tom, torn between loyalty and guilt?
A heartbreaking tale, even if you're not the maternal type. Another astonishing debut for this year.
Well, this is one of those books that had tears streaming down my face by the end. The story is split into three parts, Tom's life before Isabel, the time spent on the island as a family and finally the gripping section on the mainland which I just couldn't put down. The first chapter draws you in and then, rightly so, the details are filled in afterwards.
I was first attracted to the book with by the lighthouse keeper's story. Nowadays, lighthouses are automated but before it used to be a brave and lonely job. M.L. Stedman gives us just enough information to satisfy curiosity without bogging the reader down. It takes a certain type of trustworthy man to take on the responsibility and this remains an important part of Tom's personality throughout everything that happens.
The central story, however, revolves around the baby, Lucy. Isabel has by this point suffered three miscarriages and is desperate for a child. So desperate that she decides to pass Lucy off as her own child. The setting of post WWI Australia makes this extra potent. There is a passage, very similar to one I quoted from Bereft, also set in the same time and place, about there is no word to describe a parent that has lost a child. Something that so many were suffering at the time. All the families on the mainland have lost someone, does that make Isabel's deception more understandable or worse?
It also deals with the prevalence of xenophobia in the days after the war. Driven on by the helplessness felt by those left behind, foreigners were scapegoats and those who consorted with them just as bad.
The title itself, literally describes the positioning of Janus, between the Indian Ocean and the Southern Ocean, right on the edge of the world. Yet it also could be used to describe Lucy, the centre of the world for two very different women. Or perhaps it is Tom, torn between loyalty and guilt?
A heartbreaking tale, even if you're not the maternal type. Another astonishing debut for this year.
A child goes missing from kindergarten, when he returns, he has been beaten. Other similar cases soon start to appear, the children have all been beaten around the head and shoulders and speak of a “black owl”. The police have no leads and they turn to psychiatrist Raffael Horn for help.
Whilst The Mattress House is in the same series as The Sweetness of Life, there is no sense of ongoing plot so can be read by itself. My complaint for the previous book was that it was all a bit depressing. The town of Furth am See still comes across as a thoroughly miserable place to live, with so many serious psychiatric cases that Raffael deals with on a day to day basis. He doesn't seem to have any patients that are merely depressed or anxious. The inclusion of so many of his patients is also a little confusing and doesn't add to the plot or connect to the overall message.
What it does do, is address the subject of physical punishment of children. Many of the characters reflect on whether they have beaten their children. As a translated novel, perhaps an understanding of Austrian current affairs helps place the thoughts of Hochgatterer. I personally couldn't tell if the things they were discussing were more normal or frowned upon so it didn't really work for me as a thought-provoking piece of writing.
I have put my finger on what puts me off this series, it all feels far too clinical, like it's all part of Horn's assessment. It comes across a little emotionless because of this. I was touched by the scenes with Horn's son and the cat. Even I could tell there was something seriously wrong with the poor animal but Horn was so dismissive and uncaring towards his son. He's not a character I can relate to at all.
There's a good crime story underneath it all though. The narrative is split between third person and an unknown first person, similar to The Sweetness of Life. You think you have a pretty good idea of what's going on at one point yet you can't always be so sure. If you were a fan of the previous novel, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. I just don't think Hochgatterer is for me.
Whilst The Mattress House is in the same series as The Sweetness of Life, there is no sense of ongoing plot so can be read by itself. My complaint for the previous book was that it was all a bit depressing. The town of Furth am See still comes across as a thoroughly miserable place to live, with so many serious psychiatric cases that Raffael deals with on a day to day basis. He doesn't seem to have any patients that are merely depressed or anxious. The inclusion of so many of his patients is also a little confusing and doesn't add to the plot or connect to the overall message.
What it does do, is address the subject of physical punishment of children. Many of the characters reflect on whether they have beaten their children. As a translated novel, perhaps an understanding of Austrian current affairs helps place the thoughts of Hochgatterer. I personally couldn't tell if the things they were discussing were more normal or frowned upon so it didn't really work for me as a thought-provoking piece of writing.
I have put my finger on what puts me off this series, it all feels far too clinical, like it's all part of Horn's assessment. It comes across a little emotionless because of this. I was touched by the scenes with Horn's son and the cat. Even I could tell there was something seriously wrong with the poor animal but Horn was so dismissive and uncaring towards his son. He's not a character I can relate to at all.
There's a good crime story underneath it all though. The narrative is split between third person and an unknown first person, similar to The Sweetness of Life. You think you have a pretty good idea of what's going on at one point yet you can't always be so sure. If you were a fan of the previous novel, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. I just don't think Hochgatterer is for me.
Goddess Interrupted is the sequel to The Goddess Test and therefore this review will contain spoilers for the previous book. There is also a short story, The Goddess Hunt which takes place between the two.
Kate returns from her summer above ground with James, eager to see Henry again but he doesn't appear to be thrilled to see her. She might be doubting her commitment to the ruler of the Underworld but the other gods have more important things to worry about. Calliope has escaped and the Titan, Cronus, is using her to escape too. With the fate of both the Underworld and the human race at risk, Kate is left feeling helpless and a little bit unwanted. The one thing she can do, means asking Henry's ex for help.
A lot of people have criticised Kate for being a bit of a wet blanket but I disagree. Perhaps the topic of dealing with ex-wives when you've married an older man isn't traditional young adult fayre but it comes across as a very real relationship. Both Henry and Kate jump to conclusions, but being young, Kate's become a bit more out of control. She's emotional and understandably jealous of the history between Henry and Persephone. From her point of view, she wasn't entirely sure about a marriage that means eternity with a man she barely knows but she loves Henry enough to want to save him from himself. That she's hurt by her belief that he doesn't care for her is normal.
This ground is retrod a few times and maybe that is what should be criticised more than her actual reaction. There is an argument that older readers will think, yeah, I know that. Where one side is standoffish and the other flies off the handle. It's not some fairytale romance but it echoes real life. I'm over reading about strong teenage protagonists that save the world and fall in love with the perfect boy but I'll hang out with Kate any day.
Otherwise, Goddess Interrupted is action packed and entertaining. Ava/Aphrodite still comes across as a teenage girl instead of a millennia old goddess but it's best not to pick the mythology apart and just enjoy it as it is. Whilst Calliope is just off her rocker evil, Cronus showed potential to be a much more complex character but was dismissed too quickly as the bad guy. I hope we see more of him in the next book.
Speaking of the next book...not another blimmin' cliffhanger! The story comes to a natural conclusion and then a few more pages are stuck on the end leaving you feeling like you have been, well, left hanging. I know the idea is to get you to buy the next book, but I would have anyway based on the thing that they were about to do. To add the cliffhanger just leaves me feeling irritated.
Kate returns from her summer above ground with James, eager to see Henry again but he doesn't appear to be thrilled to see her. She might be doubting her commitment to the ruler of the Underworld but the other gods have more important things to worry about. Calliope has escaped and the Titan, Cronus, is using her to escape too. With the fate of both the Underworld and the human race at risk, Kate is left feeling helpless and a little bit unwanted. The one thing she can do, means asking Henry's ex for help.
A lot of people have criticised Kate for being a bit of a wet blanket but I disagree. Perhaps the topic of dealing with ex-wives when you've married an older man isn't traditional young adult fayre but it comes across as a very real relationship. Both Henry and Kate jump to conclusions, but being young, Kate's become a bit more out of control. She's emotional and understandably jealous of the history between Henry and Persephone. From her point of view, she wasn't entirely sure about a marriage that means eternity with a man she barely knows but she loves Henry enough to want to save him from himself. That she's hurt by her belief that he doesn't care for her is normal.
This ground is retrod a few times and maybe that is what should be criticised more than her actual reaction. There is an argument that older readers will think, yeah, I know that. Where one side is standoffish and the other flies off the handle. It's not some fairytale romance but it echoes real life. I'm over reading about strong teenage protagonists that save the world and fall in love with the perfect boy but I'll hang out with Kate any day.
Otherwise, Goddess Interrupted is action packed and entertaining. Ava/Aphrodite still comes across as a teenage girl instead of a millennia old goddess but it's best not to pick the mythology apart and just enjoy it as it is. Whilst Calliope is just off her rocker evil, Cronus showed potential to be a much more complex character but was dismissed too quickly as the bad guy. I hope we see more of him in the next book.
Speaking of the next book...not another blimmin' cliffhanger! The story comes to a natural conclusion and then a few more pages are stuck on the end leaving you feeling like you have been, well, left hanging. I know the idea is to get you to buy the next book, but I would have anyway based on the thing that they were about to do. To add the cliffhanger just leaves me feeling irritated.