Very clever title. Works in multiple ways with the plot.
My first stand-alone (outside of an anthology) short story by Garth Nix. A Tor short.
I have reVery clever title. Works in multiple ways with the plot.
My first stand-alone (outside of an anthology) short story by Garth Nix. A Tor short.
I have read several of Garth Nix’s books including shorts in the Old Kingdom collected in Across the Wall. And his To Hold the Bridge which takes a spot next to Card’s Cruel Miracles (the Shepherd in ‘Kingsmeat’!) as one of the best single author anthologies in SFF.
Nix’s imagination and character building never disappoint.
Nix approaches Sanderson’s world-building and perhaps exceeds Sanderson’s imagination (even when Nix pays tribute to Dumas’ Three Musketeers).
His building of setting, character, plot and suspense in a few short pages amazed me (although, by now, it should no longer surprise me…Nix is truly gifted).
The resolution of the ‘mystery’ in this short story left me a bit wanting, but the build-up to that resolution was fantastic…fraught with tension. Sashenka engendered sympathy and respect while Shargei managed quite the opposite. So few pages.
The centerpiece of the ‘mystery’ received no explanation and my mind searched for the appropriate allegory, but couldn’t find meaning.
In fewer and more coherent words than this “review”, Nix established a character, a setting and a plot filled with intrigue and suspense. I can forgive the ending.
If someone wants to familiarise themselves with Nix, I highly recommend this short and the collection in To Hold the Bridge.
(I never realised that Francis was not doing lead vocals on this song until this video. How did I miss that?)
Merged review:
Very clever title. Works in multiple ways with the plot.
My first stand-alone (outside of an anthology) short story by Garth Nix. A Tor short.
I have read several of Garth Nix’s books including shorts in the Old Kingdom collected in Across the Wall. And his To Hold the Bridge which takes a spot next to Card’s Cruel Miracles (the Shepherd in ‘Kingsmeat’!) as one of the best single author anthologies in SFF.
Nix’s imagination and character building never disappoint.
Nix approaches Sanderson’s world-building and perhaps exceeds Sanderson’s imagination (even when Nix pays tribute to Dumas’ Three Musketeers).
His building of setting, character, plot and suspense in a few short pages amazed me (although, by now, it should no longer surprise me…Nix is truly gifted).
The resolution of the ‘mystery’ in this short story left me a bit wanting, but the build-up to that resolution was fantastic…fraught with tension. Sashenka engendered sympathy and respect while Shargei managed quite the opposite. So few pages.
The centerpiece of the ‘mystery’ received no explanation and my mind searched for the appropriate allegory, but couldn’t find meaning.
In fewer and more coherent words than this “review”, Nix established a character, a setting and a plot filled with intrigue and suspense. I can forgive the ending.
If someone wants to familiarise themselves with Nix, I highly recommend this short and the collection in To Hold the Bridge.
This would easily be a 5-star read for me if not for the sex scenes. Fewer sex scenes than its predecessor, but what’s here is much more graphic.
I sup
This would easily be a 5-star read for me if not for the sex scenes. Fewer sex scenes than its predecessor, but what’s here is much more graphic.
I suppose I have to state “Nothing wrong with sex”, before the progressive crowd lynches me; but when one is asexual and Tolkien is the high point of all things romantic/sexual in books, then the scenes can be jarring. ☹️ And for the most part, unnecessary. They add nothing to the plot or characters. Pure titillation if “nethers” and “petals” and “shadow between her legs” and “quim” titillate you. I find it absurd.
There are no boundaries on who is attracted to whom which I find (mostly) refreshing. I applaud authors who deal with LGBTQIA2S+ (the “A” may be missing from the series) in a very matter-of-fact way. The romance is no longer a novelty or an attention grabbing “gimmick”, but the authors create genuine feelings between characters the reader cares about. This is where our media needs to get. Please take note, Disney. Kristoff’s fellow Australian author, Garth Nix, also does this well.
What makes me uncomfortable (besides the sex itself…I can deal with the romance) is the demesne of vampire “love”. Due to their undying nature and the way vampires are created, the vampiric sex (I don’t think the vampires of this series are romantic) can seem incestuous or age inappropriate. In this book, there is a female desperately in “love” with the head of the Dyvok vampire clan. In the past, they shared a sexual relationship. The vampire lord is who “turned” her. So, he often calls her “daughter” and she refers to him as “father”. I get it, but it remains unsettling.
A lot of discussion about my least favourite part of the series and I may amend that when I write my review after uploading the quotes. (Nope. It stays. I’m too lazy to rewrite this.) I needed to explain to myself why I didn’t give the book a better rating.
The series, although horror/high fantasy/post-apocalyptic/grimdark (I had to look up that last one to make sure that I used it correctly…I’m terrible at the dozens and dozens of sub-genres in books and music), reminds me a lot of how I felt reading Pierce Brown’s Red Rising series…which is high praise.
Near non-stop action. A roller coaster of emotions (the battle between the Heartless and the Grail underneath the sepulcher near the end of the book completely screwed with my emotions and had nothing to do with the two primary antagonists of the fight…Prince!). Incredible world building (the origin of vampires…WOW!). A dark and unrelenting world. Like Brown, Kristoff has no problem killing off characters. (Don’t get too attached.) A much more horrific book than the first leaning on imagery from WW2 German concentration camps, the Cambodian killing fields and/or the Rwandan genocide. All sorts of plot twists (in fact, like Red Rising, perhaps too many).
Kristoff’s dialogue is funny, if a bit sophomoric, and very quotable…also like Pierce Brown.
Most importantly, from both series, I truly care about the characters. Darrow and Sevro. Gabriel and Dior. When a book has me cheering and cursing in the space of a few pages, then the book’s characters have completely captured me. All sorts of tropes manifest in the anti-hero Gabriel (aka Wolverine), but I can’t help feeling for him…especially as a father figure. His hopes and his sorrows feel mostly genuine.
My biggest complaint…outside the sex…is having to wait for the next book. I broke my rule about not starting a series until all the books are published because Empire of the Vampire was recommended to me and…it had a map. Nothing says Tolkien-esque like a map. Now, I’m trapped by this book’s cliffhanger ending.
Short. An afternoon read largely accomplished in the mountains under a grey and foreboding sky. The reading setting somewhat like the story’s imagined
Short. An afternoon read largely accomplished in the mountains under a grey and foreboding sky. The reading setting somewhat like the story’s imagined setting in eastern Austria.
(view spoiler)[ Burgruine (”castle ruin”) Schaunberg on the Danube just west of Linz, Austria, on an absolutely beautiful Sunday evening…hard to imagine horror on a day like this one…walking through someone’s “home” uninvited felt a bit off, but the pleasantness of the day and the scenery won out. (Not sure whether a burg >> a schloss?)
The living quarters to the left…the chapel to the right…the Danube winding in the background…
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Close-up of the ground level living quarters.
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Looking down on the living quarters from the 30-meter high tower.
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Close-up of the chapel.
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Exiting the crypt adjacent to the chapel.
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Rural Austria from the main tower (probably a lot more forested 300-400 years ago).
I came to this short with way too many expectations. A foundational vampire tale. A lesbian vampire…the original incarnation. The novella’s influence on vampire lore and tone of subsequent vampire stories is undeniable.
However, the short story failed to do what horror should…horrify me. Not even very much suspense.
The tale is told in a very dispassionate voice even though narrated by the only surviving victim of Lady Mircalla, Comtesse of Karnstein (a distant relative of the protagonist’s mother). Probably the starkest moment of terror occurs near the beginning when Laura, the protagonist, as a child, first encounters her great-great-aunt, the vampiress. The only remaining horror/suspense is the Inquisition opening Carmilla’s tomb and a recounting of the dark, scuttling entity fleeing the bed of its victim (my mind went to the girl crawling broken-jointed from the TV in the Ring…perhaps the most terrifying movie scene ever for me outside of The Exorcist).
I do not read much horror in novel form.
I read a lot of horror in comics and watch a lot of horror movies. Maybe I don’t understand horror in novel form. Or at least 19th century horror novels. They feel as terrifying as an unrelenting chore.
The Reaper and the Changeling (taking the form of Manx) in Elfstones of Shannara scared me more than any horror in this book.
Very little suspense either. The ailing of the protagonist victim as she succumbs to the vampire seems to be only described sporadically. I had little concern for her welfare. The reader knows from the beginning that she lives or she would be unable to recount what happened. The climactic vampire hunt is short and to the point…perhaps the shortest vampire hunt in all of media.
I did find the novella very clever. The stratagems employed by the vampire in stalking her prey. A very patient, meticulous hunter. An arranged carriage accident to win the trust and confidence of her target. Perhaps consensual blood tastes much sweeter?
I liked le Fanu’s version of vampire lore and he obviously did his research. He name checks his sources, in character, near the end of the book. A bit of Googling and I was fascinated by the treasure trove of vampire lore from the 18th century.
While the book does not work (for me) as a horror story, I do find it a very poignant coming-of-age tale. The reader sees every step Laura takes away from innocence…from the belief that people are good and that the world is fair. le Fanu wrote this aspect very well.
Also, a very strong theme of Love vs Obsession. Lots of commentary on it; and the two separate sides are embodied by the primary protagonist and antagonist.
The dialogue is difficult, almost humorous, to read. Whether that was le Fanu’s preferred diction, or his portrayal of the upper middle crust holding in vain to the the form of language that gave them value, I do not know. But it is typical ponderous 19th century “refined” conversation. Suffused with manners and polite affectations.
Carmilla seems to immediately be categorised as the “lesbian vampire” book. I did not see it that way, but I may be naïve. More about that in the comments that follow below this “review”.
Not a great horror story, but a beautifully told coming-of-age narrative.
I prefer it to Stoker’s Dracula and am grateful to the friend who pointed it out to me.
A birthday gift from one who loves me and had just spent a week on the same island that provides the setting for this book.
I have never been there, bu
A birthday gift from one who loves me and had just spent a week on the same island that provides the setting for this book.
I have never been there, but would like to go someday. The giver of the book and I had planned a celebration there, but Covid. Then life.
The book is not long and I knew nothing of the author. My loss…
A lengthy foreword explains the importance of the author both in Sicilian/Italian literature and the sociopolitical realm. A very educated and brave man. The pen is mightier than the sword. Information, in whatever form, rational or polemic, abrasive or flattering, can change opinions. Opinions can move the world. Swords can never change opinions and their effect on the world rarely endures (though war absolutely shifts trajectories).
I learned that I know next to nothing of modern Italian (and Sicilian…and those, I suspect, will never be synonymous to Sicilians) history. Yes, we all learn of the Roman Empire and can even list off several emperors. It is inextricably tied to our Christian inheritance and the preservation of Western knowledge and philosophy. We know of the Renaissance and the landmark contributions of Italians to art, literature and science. Has any other nationality contributed more? da Vinci and Galileo have few peers until we reach Newton then Faraday. I adore Dante and, my favourite, Petrarcha. We learn of the city-states and how they flourished due to the Italian peninsula’s strategic location on the Mediterranean for the east-west trade.
After Cristoforo Colombo, what became the unified Italy, largely disappears from the Americanised world history books until Mussolini and Fermi. Then, Italy appears as an adversary and Mussolini is demonised.
My first step into modern Italian history was watching Visconti’s Il gattopardo with my Wife. I had no idea who Garibaldi was. I was incredibly ignorant and more than a little ashamed. Next, a WW2 film starring Sophia Loren, La ciociara. Heart-breaking and a very different aspect of Italy’s liberation by Allied forces. Long ago, while living in Brasil, I was disabused of the notion of an infallible America…the indoctrination I was given by a public education system. That pride and that belief is fundamental to nationalism and the essential mandate of any government-funded schooling. La ciociara felt like a gut punch.
What has all that to do with this book?
I was reminded of how little (really nothing) I knew of the tortured unification of Italy in the 19th century; the rise of fascism in the early 20th century (and its demise); September 8, 1943 (how did I not know this date? why was this not taught? why is my knowledge of WW2 so Americanised?); the creation of the Italian Republic and ensuing Constitution after the surrender of the occupying Axis forces in 1945; and the absolute social turmoil as the new republic long under fascism, first internal then external, tried to find its footing.
That is the setting of the book.
Sicily post WW2.
I could absolutely feel the adoration the author has for the land that formed him. But he remains keenly aware of the island’s warts and is brave enough to confront them. He does not shy away.
The hero of the book is not from Sicily, and though defeated, yearns to return to Sicily. The captain has been infected with the author’s love for his homeland.
The central antagonist of the book seems heroic, very urbane with a salt-of-the-earth understanding of the complex relationships between human beings.
The conversation between the hero and the villain is the highlight of the book. Juxtaposed with the following childlike bickering between the Socialists/Communists and the Fascists of the Italian Parliament in Rome. One gets the feeling that the author is telling his audience that the government will not solve its problems. Honour and integrity, as embodied by the captain and even somewhat by the don, will.
This is not a short story exposé of the Mafia or corruption in the Italian government, but an exploration of the psychological elements that allow organised crime, with its depredations, to exist. Fear. Apathy. A way out.
The title of the book gains meaning near the end in a chapter that suggests the police and law will finally emerge victorious. Even more meaning as the reader contemplates what was said in that chapter at the close of the book.
One of my favourite themes to explore…Freedom vs Security. And where does the “Rule of Law” stand when people generally feel safer with the Mafia in control than those who represent the Law?
This is not a Mafia or crime book. Yes, there is a bit of police procedural in the book, but I found the book almost more towards absurdism while maintaining a relatable plot…almost like a mirror image of Kafka’s The Trial.
Perhaps most surprising to me was Sciascia’s sense of humour. Even after translation, I could sense the author’s wit. Some phrases made me laugh out loud which is rare reading a book.
My only quibble with this book has nothing to do with the author or his narrative or characters or plot or setting or themes. I think the English translation was too literal. This book made me want to learn Italian (and I need to) so I could read the text as originally intended. I think some of the humour and insight were lost in the word-for-word (vs word-for-meaning…which is much more difficult) translation. Which speaks to how rich the book must be in Italian. Completely my fault. Not the author’s.
My heartfelt thanks for a wonderful gift and a new lens through which to see Sicily and the world.
While the lyrics are close, the music absolutely encapsulates the mood of the book for me. A dirge. Heavy. Ceremonial. Yet ethereal. A duality. In the mire yet yearning for a higher plane. Emma’s vocals carry the somber melody with softly screeching background vocals. Beautiful. Haunting. A pervasive sense of loss.
This book is a return to form for vampires. There is nothing noble about them. They are monsters who can speak. But they are not the only monsters in the book. Humans assume the role of gods in punishing each other and themselves. The themes of sin and guilt and humanity’s relationship with the divine are what captured me entirely in this book. Not the sex or violence. Nor the struggle against the heartless and cruel vampires and night itself. The struggle for our humanity in the face of the divine.
I feel my body weakened by the years As people turn to gods of cruel design Is it that they fear the pain of death? Or could it be they fear the joy of life?
An awkward team-up and a plot that lends itself to one of the primary criticisms against the YA genre (if this is indeed YA): adults are bumbling idioAn awkward team-up and a plot that lends itself to one of the primary criticisms against the YA genre (if this is indeed YA): adults are bumbling idiots who don’t listen to the wisdom of teens with experience (and powers) beyond their dozen and a half years.
John Cleaver doesn’t have superpowers. Just a brain devoid of empathy (maybe?) that allows him to think along lines that elude others.
Perhaps my least favourite book in the series.
Too many villains in this one. Each of the previous books was a “versus one” piece. This book showcases two undercard events (one opponent was meh while the second was both novel and horrifying) before introducing a (view spoiler)[sympathetic “villain”similar to one of the strongest points of the first book (hide spoiler)] and then heading into the main event. Too much for the short page count.
A very, very clever support character set up by the previous book. (I have already read Over Your Dead Body and the author continues to use this character to great effect.)
The cosmology of the Withered/Gifted begins to surface, but the limited explanation is somewhat bland and wanting. I believe the author is avoiding a detailed origin to maintain suspension of disbelief.
Not sure why this book didn’t connect as well as the previous entries. Maybe because this one lacked any type of on-page relationship between John and the other characters. The first book looked at John and his friend (not sure that I could justify the plural). The second explored relationships within his (non-nuclear) family. The third threw its hat into the romantic relationship ring. This one? Somewhat of a relationship with the “enemy”, but not quite enough time to develop it (although my favourite chapter is the dialogue between the two characters).
Still, the series has a great premise and few authors write dialogue as good as Dan Wells does. And this book sees John setting out to emulate Bill Bixby’s 70s version of Bruce Banner (cue sad music).
A good book in a GREAT series, but not the series’ best outing.
The book is not long, but it took me months to complete because I simply could not face it. The author did
Brutally honest. Poetic. Difficult to read.
The book is not long, but it took me months to complete because I simply could not face it. The author did not have that luxury.
One of the most personal and honest (the author is neither hero nor martyr…there is no evil nor beauty in the suffering…it simply is) memoirs I have ever read. The author invites us into her most private thoughts…if we have a portion of her strength and courage to be there.
The book profoundly affected me, and there were more than a few moments when I openly wept. Because the pain simply is with no drama…no accoutrements. Raw. And therefore powerful.
I have taken to using book quotes/highlights in my “reviews” along with my thoughts and emotions as I read those words for the first time. Helps me remember not just what I read, but how I felt as I read it. As I have grown older that has become more important to me. The number of quotes in a “review” is an excellent gauge of how I felt towards the book. Almost this entire book is highlighted. I may eventually…or I may not…record those quotes here. A few already…
Another solid macabre mystery with entertaining characters who are more engaging together than when apart.
A different twist at the end of this installAnother solid macabre mystery with entertaining characters who are more engaging together than when apart.
A different twist at the end of this installment than what I remembered from the Netflix series (which covered this book and the first). I preferred the book’s.
A theme of exercising caution when our infernal curiosity (or greed) has us tampering with things unknown pervades the series, but especially this book.
I am enjoying everything I read from Stroud.
(I am disappointed in this review and I don’t have the energy to do anything more with it. I lost all my highlights (quotes) which post as comments under my “review”. The comments are the real review. What I was feeling and thinking at the time I read the book. Second time this has happened. I had company when this book’s due date arrived and I preferred my company to reading.)
A friend posted a review of this book. Her enthusiasm for the book was contagious. The title suggested an easy opportunity, sarcastic slaughter of a rA friend posted a review of this book. Her enthusiasm for the book was contagious. The title suggested an easy opportunity, sarcastic slaughter of a review, but she had mostly kind and generous descriptions of the book. In proof positive of the book’s impact on her, she gifted me a physical copy.
How could I refuse to read?
Every one of her recommendations to me (mostly comics) has been solid. Not true going the other direction. But I had my doubts about this book based on some of the discussion in the thread following her review.
The doubts were quickly allayed.
For a non-fiction book that could easily stray into a sociopolitical quagmire, the book reads very, very quickly abounding in humorous and interesting anecdotes succinctly delivered. My mind exploded on nearly every page and, sometimes, multiple explosions occurred on the same page.
The author did his research. An extensive section on notes and sources and an equally extensive bibliography. Very appropriate for an author who typically works as a journalist. Despite the large amount of research, the author’s narrative never bogs down. Mr. Moss could have overwhelmed us with information. He did not.
And, very important to me, his writing seems fair. He creates no “villain” to demonise nor does he have an “axe to grind”. No overt agenda other than to inform…which the book does splendidly.
To help me remember what I’ve read, I started using Goodreads to save quotes from books as comments under my review/rating of the books. A quick gauge of how a book impacted me (caught my mind or made me feel or both) is the number of comments. I think this book has more comments than any other since I started attempting to capture thoughts and feelings as I read. In fact, transporting the quotes to Goodreads in this case was daunting (and why I put it off for so long). So many interesting and informative ideas presented very matter-of-factly.
Why only four stars? (Do stars matter?) Because I can’t give halfsies.
Occasionally, the author strayed into what I would call “exaggeration” for effect. Hyperbole. Sensationalism. These few moments in the book caught me off guard and annoyed me. No exaggeration needed. The problem is real and severe. But…I can appreciate the passion especially if you feel no one may listen.
Also, the author largely avoids dictating a solution (although he is in a position to effectively do so with all of his research), but his sympathies seem to lie towards regulation at the federal government level. I have a deep seated mistrust of and aversion for the federal government. (One of the reasons, despite my largely Democratic sociopolitical views, that I am not a Democrat. “Bigger” government is never the right answer for me.) I recoiled every time regulation was mentioned. That’s my problem not necessarily the book’s.
Frankly, this book is as much an exposé of capitalism as it is of the food industry or the federal government’s complete ineffectiveness and confused food programs.
The book absolutely accomplished what it set out to do: educate. In most cases, I had no clue. How can something as banal as the food industry shelter so much perfidy?
This book is a must read for everyone, especially Americans, whether you agree or disagree with the sociopolitical undertones. We need this book. We cannot afford ignorance and this read offers more entertainment (with knowledge) than a medical study does. Mr. Moss read plenty of medical studies and the more tiresome parts (although referenced) have thankfully been left behind.
Thank you, friend, for a wonderfully illuminating gift that may not have engaged me otherwise.
The Soundtrack
My apologies…but I couldn’t help feeling smug when red or processed meat was mentioned in the book…
I only wanted to link ‘Candy Everybody Wants’ (seems to suit the content of the book), but when I stumbled across the above, I had to include all three songs. The video is poorly framed and I could do without Dennis Miller, but that lead song…
Everything seemed so bright and hopeful in 1992/1993. Nirvana had revitalised music. And we WON! Finally, a brighter prospect after 12 years of the federal government catering to the rich and already powerful. The common folk seemed to have a voice again.
Who knew that Kurt Cobain would be dead in a little over a year and Clinton/Gore would be more of the same shit we had been eating all through my school years?
That lead song captures the essence of the most hopeful time of my life…when everything seemed possible. We could fix what we had broken.
Then, Michael joining Natalie on stage and slow dancing with her. One of those rare and profound moments in rock n’ roll history easily missed.
I came to Jonathan Stroud by way of Chad’s and Audrey’s comments on Anne’s review of The Book of Three.
I don’t usually namecheck people on Goodrea
I came to Jonathan Stroud by way of Chad’s and Audrey’s comments on Anne’s review of The Book of Three.
I don’t usually namecheck people on Goodreads and most of the social aspect of this site defies me (What are these “like”s and how does one “properly” use them? Is it truly a “like” or more of an acknowledgement? Do I “friend” or “follow”? Does it matter? ...more
The opening scene is so very…what I will start calling…Stroud.
Danger and action and humour cooked up very cleverly and garnished with snappy dialogue.
The opening scene is so very…what I will start calling…Stroud.
Danger and action and humour cooked up very cleverly and garnished with snappy dialogue.
Stroud knows how to hook a reader. And make the reader laugh.
The book explores themes of freedom and power structures masquerading as religion (always preying on the weak…my experience with religion is different, but I understand the theme) and the need for acceptance (most of all by one’s self) and the difficulty of being/feeling different and the emotional and mental struggles from past traumas.
The story does all that without ever really slowing down. There are heartfelt moments. Action-y moments. Funny moments. Villains. Outlaws (“outside of the law” or “outside of the norm”). And like every other piece of media in a post Walking Dead world…zombies. (Only Stroud calls them “Tainted”. I think I would have stuck with the conventional “zombies”. Stroud just has to be different.)
The reader learned a little of Albert’s history in the first book. Here, Stroud allows us into Scarlett’s past and why she has a “no cussing box” and a prayer mat.
The camaraderie between Scarlett and Albert deepens. Feels like a “buddy cop” movie at times. They complement each other and, surprisingly, Scarlett doesn’t run over Albert constantly. Albert has grown some teeth. He loves (platonic…right now…and I’m not shipping them…please don’t destroy a wonderful friendship) Scarlett, but he also checks her. Scarlett moves the story forward. Albert provides the moral centre.
The only quibble I had with the book was the setting, and I’m not talking about the more general post-apocalyptic Britain. I can live with that mystery without any frustration. An underground, ancient and abandoned city provided the backdrop for one of the high action sequences. So little description. I could not visualise what Stroud was drawing. Same thing happened in the first book with the climactic ending taking place in the oceanic London. I couldn’t “see” it. I do have a terrible imagination, but I didn’t even catch a glimpse of Lake London or the underground city (and I have been to both Seattle’s and Atlanta’s version of that).
Great story and Stroud knows his way around the book’s themes very, very well.
Soon to be an Amazon Prime movie/series. Hopefully, the change in format does justice to the source material’s themes and characters.
Billy Duffy playing guitar. He played in Morrissey’s first band…the Nosebleeds (so glad Morrissey & Marr chose The Smiths). He also recommended Morrissey to his friend, Johnny Marr. The rest is…as is said…history.
Same song as above with a goofy synthesiser part and Bruce Watson doing his best impersonation of Beetlejuice. ☹️ But…
A concert in East Berlin a year before the Wall came down. Look at the crowd! You cannot…cannot…repress freedom.
Gorbachev, the last leader of the former Soviet Union, elected to a position of power in the mid-80s (just as Reagan began his second term), brought perestroika to the forefront along with glasnost. East Germany (and East Berlin) began holding rock concerts after years of musical repression.
Tusovka!
Big Country played in Weißensee in June 1988.
Bruce Springsteen played the same venue to an even larger crowd one month later.
Bruce speaking to the crowd (reading in German first):
It’s nice to be in East Berlin. I want to tell you that I’m not here for or against any government, I have come to play rock'n'roll for the East-Berliners, in the hope that one day all barriers will be torn down.
And then the sing-along of what is most definitely not a pro-American song.
Our country has its warts.
But…
We have the freedom to publicly sing songs about those warts.
Just over a year later, the Berlin Wall was torn down…not a vindication of one form of government or economic system over another, but a testament to the power of and need for freedom. Power structures, remember your place.
Sometimes, the timing of a book is more important than the content of the book.
Such was the case with this one (and that’s absolutely not disparaging
Sometimes, the timing of a book is more important than the content of the book.
Such was the case with this one (and that’s absolutely not disparaging a meticulously crafted story…the content was excellent).
For some reason, my thoughts and feelings have continuously drifted to my mother these past few weeks. I see her in…everything. Most especially, these past days, I feel her hand silently and lovingly moving through my life. I pray this is not an omen.
I am my mother’s son. Emotions do not become us. They are an inconvenience that steal our energy.
My mother engages with everyone. She feels no social anxiety. She doesn’t see any difference between the socially majestic, the simply acceptable and the despised. No one intimidates her. She will speak her mind. Sternly and precisely. Then, she will roll up her sleeves and get to work helping others. Especially her children and her children’s children.
She has never been one to comfort. Not because she is uncaring, but because she doesn’t typically understand the emotions that require comfort. She struggles to recognise hurt in others because that is an emotion that she has learned to ignore in herself.
On the other hand, I am anti-social and withdrawn. I prefer to be by myself and keep to myself. I struggle with my own emotions and even more so with others’ emotions. I, too, am ineffectual at providing comfort. I simply don’t know what to do and feel lost and inept. I need to “fix” things. I try often to “fix” people, including myself, but like the protagonist of this book, I do not understand people. I do not understand myself.
I recently read Spurrier’s The Rush…a comic set in the Yukon Gold Rush and featuring a mother desperate to find her only son. I just finished Naomi Novik’s Uprooted which features perhaps the best female cast in all of fantasy literature. The relationship between Agnieszka and her mother moves from front cover to back cover so very tenderly. The author’s loving dedication to her mother and her daughter shines through in that book. Even last night, on a comic review thread here on Goodreads, I talked about my mother.
So…
This book…
An emotional impact that I rarely feel when I read.
John, the protagonist, and his mother.
Dave, the reader, and his mother.
The book cracked my heart. And as John, the narrator, stated in the closing words of the penultimate chapter:
I feel.
And that feeling is still powerfully washing over me a day later.
This is the third book in a series. Each book has taken a different route with respect to John Cleaver, the budding sociopathic serial killer.
The first introduced us to the character and his inner conflict with the more readily apparent and digestible external conflict. A brilliantly sympathetic villain.
The second book continued the external conflict in a slightly different fashion, but focused on John’s psyche. Mr. Wells explored how John thinks and feels (or doesn’t feel).
This installment focused on John’s relationships. Especially with female characters. His mother. Marci. Brooke. This focus is bittersweet.
The above shows a very well plotted series. Even the intricacies of an individual book’s resolution within the larger story frame are carefully planned. After this book reached its climax, my mind turned to how the author could work this into the series’ overarching plot. I didn’t see how it could be done. Yet Mr. Wells did it without critical logic fallacies or pleading with the reader to further extend their suspension of disbelief. These are well-crafted books.
Mr. Wells writes great dialogue and can be genuinely funny. He also completely played me. There is a mystery element to each book: who? why? I had my (late) guesses here, and although I was close with one, I still got it wrong. Then, I was completely blindsided. But almost like rewatching Sixth Sense or Usual Suspects, Mr. Wells teased that blindside very carefully then sucker-punched me for maximum emotional impact. Mr. Wells is a master of distraction.
He also has done his research. John’s thoughts and feelings (or lack of feelings?…at least lack of empathy) seem very authentic.
A short, but powerful read. And categorising the book or series defies me.
Why only four stars (as if that matters)? Prevalent use of suicide in the book. Murders I could stomach. Suicides… ...more
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