Most readers utilize summer as an opportunity to catch up on light contemporary and romance books – the picture-perfect beach reads. I, on the other hMost readers utilize summer as an opportunity to catch up on light contemporary and romance books – the picture-perfect beach reads. I, on the other hand, don’t enjoy the aforementioned genres and can’t go to the beach without burning like a lobster. Instead, I’m beginning to associate summer with binge-reading thrillers each night after work. Stillhouse Lake is my most recent read amidst a long string of thrillers, and I’m officially hooked.
After reading my fair share of thrillers, I felt like I was being beaten over the head with the classic Gone Girl storyline. Gone Girl certainly helped to catapult the genre into the public spotlight, and it’s evident that many authors are trying to capitalize on that success by penning alarming similar works. There are only so many times that plot can be resurrected and ever so slightly tweaked, and that threshold was surpassed several dozen novels ago. Needless to say, I was ecstatic when Stillhouse Lake failed to conform to the Gone Girl mold, featuring a refreshingly original plot and cast of characters.
Readers are immediately thrown into the action at the beginning of Stillhouse Lake, and the unique, intriguing premise instantly piqued my curiosity. The first 40 pages relayed an exhilarating and simultaneously horrifying flurry of events which completely desolated the protagonist’s seemingly average life. Following the initial shock of these incidents, the book recounts the protagonist’s attempts to rebuild her life and protect her children while remaining outside of the public eye. In stark contrast to the adrenaline-filled, heart-pounding introductory chapters, these chapters assume a considerably slower pace, setting the stage for later character development and plot points. While I understood the necessity of this portion of the book, I found myself increasingly bored by the descriptions of mundane life accompanied by repeated relocations. Fortunately, the second half of the book returned to the previous fast-pace that I had enjoyed, making for a compelling page turner.
I appreciated watching the plot unfold from the perspective of a paranoid yet incredibly determined and resilient protagonist. Gina Royal demolishes the helpless, female protagonist stereotypes that are propagated by other thrillers, instead utilizing her less than desirable situation as an impetus to start a new life and devote every waking moment to protecting her children. She possessed both intelligence and common sense, which seem to be a dying combination of traits in the literary world. The two in tandem result in a considerably more pleasant read – there’s little to no screaming at the main character for making careless, poorly-thought out decisions, like dashing outside alone and weaponless in the middle of the night to investigate a mysterious sound (cue horror movie soundtrack). The absence of a helpless or abominable protagonist won me over almost immediately.
I enjoyed the raw accuracy with which the public was portrayed. Instead of blatantly ignoring the social consequences surrounding Gina’s marriage to a serial killer, Caine crafted a believable, accusatory public that was quick to condemn Gina for her husband’s choices. This added yet another element of realism to the plot, comprehensively emerging readers in the social backlash that could feasibly surround someone in Gina’s position.
Unfortunately, this book wasn’t completely immune to questionable and blatantly ill-advised decisions. Most notably, near the conclusion of the book, a character with a bleeding head wound is permitted to embark on a thirty-minute hike up a mountain during a torrential downpour. From a medical perspective – yikes! All in all, none of these choices played a large role in the overall plot of the book. Consequently, this was so minor of a complaint that it didn’t have a significant impact on my overall rating.
I was shocked by the novel’s final, unexpected twist. A total of one hint was dropped throughout the course of the book, and it was so minute that I completely disregarded it while reading. In all honesty, I would’ve been surprised if anyone had seen that ending coming. To compound matters, Stillhouse Lake ended with a jaw-dropping cliffhanger. And of course, I immediately ordered the second book in the series from Amazon. Overall, this was my favorite thriller that I’ve read in quite a while, and I would recommend it to anyone who has an interest in the genre!...more
I received an Advanced Reader Copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I love me a Gone Girl-esque thriller in which the solution is buriedI received an Advanced Reader Copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I love me a Gone Girl-esque thriller in which the solution is buried beneath a tangled web of secrets, lies, and unanswered questions. I get an even bigger kick out of trying to figure out the solution, despite my terrible track record with respect to accuracy. STILL, it’s exciting to see how horribly incorrect my entirely plausible predictions are.
My primary complaint with Girl in Snow was the convoluted conclusion, which presented a minor, relatively unmentioned character as the mysterious, unidentified aggressor. Based upon the occasional, one sentence references to this character that would crop up approximately every 75 pages, I would’ve never associated him with the crime. He was merely a nondescript bystander with zero description, characterization, or character development, and he struck me as merely a filler character. While obscurity in thrillers can be a good thing, it didn’t work in this novel’s favor. There was too little reference to this character throughout the book, and an incredibly weak explanation of his motives and rationale for committing the crime was presented within the last twenty pages of the book. He was mentioned considerably more frequently in those last twenty pages than in the preceding 350 pages collectively. That being said, he made for an implausible criminal with a nonexistent backstory and a questionable, hole-riddled motive. It wasn’t exactly the exciting, firework laden ending that I was anticipating.
I was taken aback by the prevalence of adolescent angst rather than more mature themes that I would expect from novels marketed to adult audiences. Two of the three narrators were high school students, and they contributed more of a coming of age aspect to the novel that was reminiscent of the young adult genre. While they dealt with issues such as grief and loss, they also battled with a subset of stereotypical teenage insecurities and issues associated with beginning high school and finding a niche. Needless to say, reading from the perspective of a thirteen-year-old presented an undesirable dichotomy between the adult novel I was expecting and the seemingly young adult narrative with which I was presented.
I was further misled in my belief that this would be a fast-paced, plot-driven book with an abundance of exciting twists and turns to throw off readers. It was quite the opposite, instead reflecting heavily on each of the narrators and their personal mental and physical challenges as they struggled to comprehend what had transpired. Character-driven, contemporary reminiscent novels bore me to tears, and this one had a particularly depressing tone as each of the characters elected to wallow in self pity and utter despair for the entirety of the book. I’m not an emotional person, and I consequently don’t enjoy or have an appreciation for emotion laden reads. I much prefer action driven novels in which the characters put aside their emotions to focus on tackling the issues at hand.
Girl in Snow, unfortunately, was severely lacking a premise, and a very minimal component of the novel actually centered around Lucinda’s death. I thought her untimely demise was supposed to be the central focus of the book??? References to the ongoing investigation into her murder were scarce, and her storyline was readily abandoned in favor of the confused, emotional reactions of each of the narrators. For a small town, it’s inhabitants seemed incredibly nonchalant about a cold-blooded murder, and there seemed to be no incentive to identify the killer.
I adored Kukafka’s writing style - it flowed seamlessly from one scene to the next and possessed an excellent balance between dialogue and description-heavy paragraphs. Furthermore, she excellently sewed together multiple intertwining narratives. I’m generally not a huge fan of books that are told from multiple perspectives, but in this case, they enhanced rather than detracted from the book. Each narrator had a distinct, unique voice which eliminated confusion, and their stories were expertly intertwined, conveying the same events from very different angles.
Overall, Girl in Snow was missing several integral components of an adult thriller, and I was disappointed by the confusing and poorly crafted conclusion. The novel was deceptively slow-paced, and none of the characters seemed particularly alarmed that a murderer was still on the loose. Instead, they frustratingly spent chapters upon chapters dredging up a slew of emotional reactions and recalling old memories rather than acting. I was searching for a heart-pounding read that kept me up until 3am, but unfortunately, Girl in Snow fell fairly short of my expectations.
One of my goals of 2017 was to work my way through some of the historical fiction books that have been sitting on my bookshelves and collecting dust. One of my goals of 2017 was to work my way through some of the historical fiction books that have been sitting on my bookshelves and collecting dust. While historical fiction is one of my favorite genres, I go through spurts of reading solely historical fiction versus picking up only one or two books from the genre per month. In an attempt to rectify this unbookwormly habit, I've been incorporating historical fiction works more regularly into my reading. Therefore, I decided to kick off the summer by tackling Code Name Verity.
With respect to my tastes in historical fiction novels, I have a fascination with Victorian Era London and World War II settings (yes, I'm aware, the two couldn't be more different). Nevertheless, I expected Code Name Verity to be right up my alley, and due to all of the hype surrounding the series, I was looking forward to reading it. The beginning 50-100 pages, however, rubbed me the wrong way and established the not-so-pleasant tone for the remainder of the novel.
First and foremost, I was completely lost - Verity's narrative jumps headfirst into the middle of her story, providing little context for readers to orient themselves. To make matters worse, the full picture wasn't revealed until the conclusion of the book, leaving me utterly confused and brimming with a host of unanswered questions for the majority of the novel. Furthermore, the book was rather detail-heavy, primarily honing in on aircraft specifics, technicalities, and mechanics that went straight over my head. These unnecessary descriptions only served to bog me down while reading. They could've easily been excluded, and the novel would've captured the same messages and themes while adopting a more interesting tone that placed additional emphasis on the plot and characters.
Based upon Code Name Verity's summary, I was expecting a significantly more action-driven plot, rather than a confusing, far from chronological recollection of seemingly unconnected events interspersed with all too frequent and entirely unrelated details and tidbits of information regarding the war. All in all, the pacing was painfully slow, the narration boring, and both my attention span and interest waned quickly. And yes, I seriously and repeatedly contemplated marking this book DNF, yet I continued pushing onward in the hopes that the ending would serve as the novel's redeeming quality.
Despite my best efforts and intentions with respect to reading Code Name Verity from cover to cover, I was far from enthralled with the ending. While I appreciated the concluding plot twist and its emotional appeal, neither was substantial enough to salvage the book as a whole. And, being the cold, cynical, emotionless human being that I am, it was far from a "heart-wrenching" read for me. The unexpected turn of events was both sad and incredibly unfortunate, yet it didn't leave me with any strong, lasting impressions.
The format of the narration also influenced my perception of the book, as I found the non sequential "diary entry" retellings of past events to add another layer of confusion to the novel. It was difficult to discern past from present events, and the frequent swapping between code names and the characters' actual names did nothing to simplify matters. The writing style, although unique, didn't lend itself well to clarifying an already bewildering plot in which I felt that I was always twenty steps behind and would never fully grasp what was transpiring. The writing itself was haphazard and informal, featuring odd phrasing and the occasional sentence fragment masquerading as a complete sentence.
Additionally, I couldn't distinguish between the narrators' two voices - both seemed identical, sharing similar mannerisms, patterns of speech, and dry senses of humor. Consequently, the two felt interchangeable and nondescript, and I had difficulty connecting with either. To further compound my utter indifference to both protagonists, they exhibited frustratingly minimal growth or character development throughout the novel, remaining disappointingly static and flat. They also had a rather enraging habit of telling rather than showing in their narration. Instead of obscurely hinting at the underlying emotions or tensions in a scene and allowing readers to infer these characteristics, the narrators outright explained these aspects. They might as well have written them in neon highlighter and attached some blinking lights for good measure.
Overall, Code Name Verity was well-researched, historically accurate, and had an intriguing premise, but I couldn't see the appeal. While I was intrigued by both the plot and the characters, the book's execution heavily influenced my rating and my enjoyment (or lack thereof) while reading. I enjoyed what little of the plot I could discern, but the remainder of the book struck me as a tangled web of somewhat related tales that the author had attempted to shove into a cookie cutter plot. The result was not pretty, to say the least.
What an eye-opener to the lives of privileged-to-the-point-of-being-spoiled children who have had everything handed to them on a silver platter and exWhat an eye-opener to the lives of privileged-to-the-point-of-being-spoiled children who have had everything handed to them on a silver platter and expect everything to continue as such for the remainder of their lives. There were far too many non-age appropriate meltdowns for my liking, each one more cringeworthy than the last. Combine this with an all-girls' boarding school, explosive estrogen levels, and a short supply of eligible males, and you're in for an...interesting read.
The characters, needless to say, were a constant source of aggravation, stooping to unbelievably low levels which, realistically, would not be tolerated in a preschool, let alone a high school setting. Having been brought up, for the most part, in extremely wealthy families, they readily conveyed their excessive feelings of entitlement and subsequent frustration when their every whim was not catered to. I would not imagine that taking a group of wealthy, spoiled teenagers, placing them in close confines with one another, and establishing a set of strict rules regarding their behavior, actions, outfits, etc. generally ends well; it's more of a recipe for disaster if I ever saw one.
Furthermore, the girls' incessant fawning over their male counterparts would lead one to believe that they had been sheltered their entire lives from the existence of the male sex. I can only equate their behavior to that of the cast of Mean Girls about five years prior to the setting of the movie. Their desperation and actions themselves were abhorrent to the point of being laughable, and I had trouble keeping a straight face at the most inopportune of times. I didn't realize I would ever walk away from a book with so much cumulative secondhand embarrassment, but I guess there's always a first for everything.
While reading, I had one central question nagging at me: how in the world did thirteen and fourteen year-olds accomplish such impressive feats that had stumped countless adults before them? How were they able to run circles around the Steve Jobs, Michael Bubles, and Misty Coplands of the world? No matter how hard I tried to wrack my memory for any clues or explanations as to their unbelievable successes (and potentially even more surprising lack of public acknowledgment or approval), I always came up empty-handed. Hopefully this will be addressed in later installments, because nothing is adding up so far, and I can only envision this issue snowballing moving forward.
Above and beyond this small plot-hole, the storyline was fairly comprehensive and intriguing with several pulse-raising scenes. I was initially worried that there were would be a great deal of plot overlap with the first book in the series, but I was pleasantly surprised. It's still not clear where exactly the series is headed, but it doesn't appear that the characters haven't started wandering aimlessly yet, so I'm not overly concerned.
I was mildly disappointed by the lackluster ending that left me looking for more. There was very little resolution - no loose strings were tied up, no questions were answered. The series is written as if one book is simply a continuation of the next without any distinct introduction or conclusion for each individual component. One seamlessly picks up where the previous left off. Since these books are so short, I would have preferred a single, longer book to these shorter installments due to the absence of any significant, final chapter cliffhangers or plot twists.
Despite the overly fake characters, I'm still determined to finish the series with the hopes that there will be some sort of resolution in the final book. Both the plot and the writing style have caught and held my attention, and this was a fairly short, easy read. I'm assuming the remaining installments in the series will be fairly comparable, so my expectations aren't extremely high, but they should be entertaining reads nevertheless....more
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Having received this work as an ARC, I did not have the opportunity to read the fI received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Having received this work as an ARC, I did not have the opportunity to read the first installment in the series prior to reading and reviewing Going Back, and I was consequently frustratingly lost regarding previous events as well as the backstories and prior relationships between characters. While small portions of this were gradually revealed using a nonlinear technique, it was difficult to piece together a complete picture.
Plot-wise, major events were evenly spaced, albeit sparse, and the book progressed at a steady pace. The majority of the work, however, appeared to be a rehashing of the thoughts, emotions, conversations, etc. that I would have expected to have transpired at the conclusion of the preceding book in the series. An enormous amount of time was set aside to seemingly harp on prior events without an effort on behalf of the characters to rectify the situation at hand or alleviate their consequential fears. I would have preferred seeing additional plot points and unexpected twists and turns, particularly at the beginning of the work, rather than repeatedly hearing the same thoughts and concerns voiced by various characters. Mind you, I still don't feel as if I learned the full story that was divulged in the first book of the series.
Leona was obnoxious both as a protagonist and narrator, often forgetting to act her age instead of her shoe size. There were several occasions where I thought a full toddler meltdown was in the works. While I was disappointed in this respect, Leona still managed to throw an impressive number of tantrums whenever attention was even mildly diverted from herself or events did not transpire as she would have liked. And yes, she was unquestioningly old enough to recognize that life isn't fair and not everything revolved around her.
Considering that Going Back was marketed as a romance novel, I was disappointed by its absence in the book. While there was a slight rekindling of an old relationship at its conclusion, I have a feeling that the majority of the romance was present in the first book in the series. I was disappointed that readers didn't have the opportunity to see the initial development and progression of any romantic relationship in the book.
Young's writing style was relatively inconsistent with respect to the level of detail and volume of information that was revealed regarding particular scenarios and characters. Certain scenes were description-laden to the point of excess, whereas others appeared to be lacking in this department. Similarly, as previously and indirectly mentioned, it was challenging to discern whether Young was making the assumption that readers were tackling her works in chronological order, or the expectation was that this work could serve as a standalone. She wavered back and forth between repeatedly recounting various scenes which, I assume, are from the previous installment and introducing new events. Young's uncertainty as to how to tackle this situation was evident and unfortunately did not leave a favorable impression....more
By clicking the image above, you can read this review, as well as my other posts, on my blog, Brewing Up Books.
I received a free copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review.
The summary had me mildly apprehensive regarding the legitimacy and realistic nature of the plot, along with some concerns of the mysterious mention of pirates, but the majority of these concerns were quickly invalidated as I began to read. While there were quite a few instances of characters being in precisely the right place at the right time, none of the characters magically developed the ability to fly or were able to hop up and rejoin the fight after a mortal blow. The plot was fast-paced and exciting, and there were a number of unforeseen twists and turns that kept me on my toes (either that, or I've suddenly become horrific at guessing where the plot is headed).
I have fairly limited knowledge regarding ships, submarines, and the sort, as well as warfare/weaponry due to my limited (ie. nonexistent) personal experiences in these areas. While I initially had some reservations about the highly technical terms and descriptions that were provided throughout the text, I was able to infer the purposes of many of these items. While I have no doubt that my inferences were slightly off the mark to say the least, I was still able to grasp a basic understanding of how they would play out in the plot moving forward. When in doubt, I assumed any fancy word referred to a weapon. If potential weapon was in the hands of the protagonists, that was good; if the weapon was being aimed at the protagonists, that was bad - and there you have my highly technical description.
I particularly enjoyed the wide range of antagonists and the cunning tactics that they continually devised to oppose Jonah and his companions. They were determined, to say the least, and they put up a formidable fight. Zajonc avoided many of the stereotypical pitfalls of antagonists by ensuring that they were not always victorious or always unsuccessful in their endeavors. Like the protagonists, Charles Bettencourt and his henchmen underwent their fair share of disappointing defeats, as well as triumphs, adding a realistic dimension to the novel.
One of my only complaints was the surprising and excessive naivety of nearly all of the characters. While everyone has their moments of weakness, the characters that Zajonc portrayed seemed particularly unlucky in this respect. The majority of them were extremely trusting of complete strangers, completely disregarding one of the principle rules all small children can recite: never talk to strangers. Despite traversing one of the most dangerous oceanic regions in the world, the characters seemed unfazed by the potential for each new individual to be a pirate or employed by the antagonist. This misplaced trust led to several unfortunate yet easily avoidable encounters. The characters never learned from these mistakes either, which made them that much more frustrating.
I was also disappointed regarding the relative lack of romance, although I'm going to blame this on the book's categorization as an action novel - if I had been looking for a romance, I would have selected another book entirely. While Zajonc introduced the possibility of several relationships, none of them were further developed above and beyond some initial feelings and a few awkward encounters. Since Zajonc went to the trouble to establish these sparks, I would have liked to see how the relationships would have evolved throughout the course of the novel. Then again, I imagine one doesn't have ample amounts of time to devote to dating while trying to outrun pirates and a nefarious corporation.
Overall, I was immediately hooked by the compelling characters and plot, as well as the fluid, comprehensive writing style. This was a fairly quick and refreshing read for me, particularly after the slew of one and two star ratings I've been assigning recently. And while there is no promise of any additional installments, I would unquestioningly pick them up in a heartbeat....more
Click the image above to view this review on my blog, Brewing Up Books.
Despite reading Patterson's Maximum Ride series when I was younger, I have never associated him with children's literature or even the young adult genre. To date, my mind immediately jumps to adult/mystery novels that often revolve around brutal murders whenever I come across his name. Therefore, I was rather taken aback when I discovered that he had written a "crime" series geared toward a teenage audience and was mildly apprehensive about his approach to the subject material.
While what I read was quite far from my initial expectations in terms of gory details and sinister plots devised by completely deranged antagonists, the novel as a whole seemed oversimplified and outright boring (which is highly impressive considering that several characters were brutally murdered throughout the course of the novel). Despite Patterson's undeniably excellent writing, he appeared to struggle to connect with his intended readers, constructing a narrator and plot that would appeal to much younger, child-like audience as opposed to the young adult/teen crowd to which the series was marketed. The novel, unfortunately, didn't contain Patterson's typical, complex plot with a wide range of twists and turns. Instead, the murder itself and the evidence presented throughout the book were rather lackluster and unimpressive, and the solution to the "crime" was not well concealed. I was hoping for a mystery of significantly greater complexity and overall substance but was disappointed in this respect.
Patterson attempted to weave together too many plots simultaneously and it didn't work. Whatsoever. While many of the characters were involved in several of these unfolding series of events, there were no apparent connections or associations between the plots themselves - they almost appeared as completely separate entities. The majority of the characters had no idea what was transpiring at any given moment, and as a reader, I was equally, if not more, confused.
The teenage protagonist and narrator, Tandy, was repeatedly on my nerves due to her obstinate unwillingness to act her age. Her thoughts and behavior mirrored those of an unruly toddler whose favorite word is "mine." She conveyed a highly self-centered perspective throughout the novel and, prior to acting, would only question the immediate repercussions of these decisions and how they would impact solely her. She failed to consider the interests and wellbeing of those around her, including her remaining family members. After the death of a loved one, families often become closer, but Tandy had a tendency to push hers away, despite their good-intentions and warranted concerns.
Furthermore, Tandy constantly assumed a know-it-all attitude, particularly in the presence of her superiors. While intelligent, her age and overall lack of life experiences rendered her in no position to belittle and speak down to police inspectors as well as her elders. It would have been nice to see someone shut her down on at least one of these occasions because she certainly could have used an ego-check. Or perhaps she just had a burning aspiration to become Nancy Drew's successor... She also had an aggravating habit of going off on completely unrelated tangents with no connections to past, present, or future events.
The remaining characters were equally flat, and quite a few of them had ongoing psychiatric illnesses that likely should have been addressed. They appeared alarmingly emotionless, and their reactions or lack thereof to the various murders was equally concerning. Lastly, there was no characterization - the characters maintained the same personalities, traits, and mindsets for the duration of the novel with minimal variation.
The conclusion also served as a letdown. The solution to the mystery was rather lousy and unimpressive. Considering this was the first installment of a multi-book series, I was expecting a significant cliffhanger which was...nonexistent. There were very few questions that were left unanswered, and I felt no emotional connection to any of the characters. There was absolutely no incentive for me to continue reading the series above and beyond the fact that I had already checked the next book out from the library....more
Room was the final book that I read and analyzed for a high school literature class, so it was a little bittersweet. The upside is that graduation is Room was the final book that I read and analyzed for a high school literature class, so it was a little bittersweet. The upside is that graduation is right around the corner, so I guess I can't complain!
Before I started reading, I was a little wary of a five-year-old narrator and how he would provide an accurate and comprehensive commentary on such a difficult situation. The writing was extremely challenging to adjust to initially because it reflected the disjointed, grammatically incorrect speech of a small child. Jack's use of objects' names as capitalized pronouns (ie. I jumped on Bed while Ma watered Plant) served to further add to the confusion. The biggest hurdle was getting acclimated to Jack's recounting of the tale, but the task became significantly easier as the novel progressed.
That being said, Donoghue's writing style was phenomenal, particularly through the insight she provided regarding what a child observes and deems important versus what our minds, as adults, naturally single out as noteworthy. She also indirectly relayed a surprising amount of information regarding Ma's emotional and mental state while maintaining Jack's voice for the entirety of the book, truly honing in on the perceptiveness and attentiveness of children. This was certainly a challenging topic to both read and, I would imagine, write about, and Donoghue did so as gracefully and seamlessly as possible without tiptoeing around any aspects of Ma and Jack's situation.
Despite its intricate and highly realistic (almost frightening) plot, the pacing was extremely inconsistent and had a tendency to lag considerably, particularly during the final 150 pages of the book. The climax occurred very early in the book, and my attention quickly dwindled after that as the pacing became increasingly and notably slower. There were also a significant number of small subplots that were briefly introduced and then never addressed again. These simply served to divert attention from Ma and Jack's story, as well as creating quite a few unresolved questions.
The characters were also disappointingly underdeveloped. One of the primary issues may have been the introduction of a large number of characters, albeit minor, in a very short period of time, preventing Donoghue from establishing them as multi-faceted and deserving or non-deserving of reader sympathy. These characters were simply presented as one large blur, making it challenging to distinguish one from the next. While this may have been intentionally considering Jack's narration style and the emotions a small child would experience when his/her entire world is turned upside down, it was extremely frustrating as a reader because there were few definitive characteristics and personality quirks that could be associated with each individual.
One of the primary characters I wished would have been elaborated upon was Old Nick, Ma's kidnapper and Jack's father. He appears briefly on several occasions at the beginning of the novel, but the only description Jack provides is what he is able to see and hear from his hiding spot in Ma's dresser. None of Old Nick's motives are ever revealed, including those that prompted him to carry out the initial kidnapping. Furthermore, the ending leaves some uncertainty about Old Nick's past and future, potentially because Ma was attempting to shield Jack by refusing to divulge information. Consequently, it was difficult to visualize the unfolding events from Old Nick's perspective or to experience the range of emotions he must have underwent.
I found it particularly difficult to connect with Ma, most likely because she remained a very static character for the duration of the novel. Very little was revealed about her past prior to her kidnapping and imprisonment above and beyond her relationships with her family members. Many of her actions and decisions were poorly explained or unexplained in their entirety, and it was often difficult to gauge her opinions and initial reactions to unfolding events.
While I considerably enjoyed the premise of Room as well as Donoghue's writing, I wasn't overly fond of its pacing or characterization. While I grew steadily less enthralled with the novel as it progressed, it was a quick and easy read. Although Room is entirely fictional, it is incredibly eyeopening and certainly not for the faint of heart....more
I haven't been this entranced and rendered utterly speechless by a novel since reading the Harry Potter series. I also haven't been able to stop grinI haven't been this entranced and rendered utterly speechless by a novel since reading the Harry Potter series. I also haven't been able to stop grinning like a complete fool. Coincidence? I think not. Water for Elephants definitely earned its title as my favorite read of 2016, and it's currently one of my favorite reads of all time. Something tells me it won't be demoted anytime soon.
Water for Elephants paints an entirely new perspective of an albeit depression era circus, exposing the harsh conditions and pervasive poverty associated with nomadic life, as well as the inevitable rivalries and hostilities between performers. I admired the novel's honesty and realistic portrayal - nothing was sugarcoated, and it addressed a conglomerate of difficult issues that are merely brushed under the rug in most comparable literary works. Plus, THERE ARE ELEPHANTS. You can never go wrong with elephants.
I was immediately intrigued by the prologue, which was characterized by sheer confusion for both the characters and readers, hinting at a suspicious death. As if the novel hadn't already won me over, the circular narrative concludes with the same scene, providing clarity and detail that had been intentionally excluded from the introductory chapter. While I had my suspicions about the obscure events that unfolded in the introductory scene, they weren't confirmed until the final pages of the book, keeping me on my toes and causing me to constantly second guess my predictions.
I loved the dynamic that was established by the two juxtaposed narratives - that of Jacob's early life in the circus and that of his time in the nursing home. Both were equally bittersweet, paralleling a complicated, multi-faceted romance with a refusal to acknowledge the gradual physical and mental decline associated with age. Sorrow, disappointment, and difficult circumstances seemed to follow Jacob like the plague, and it was impossible not to pity him. Needless to say, there was no happy ending. Or tears of joy. But there were many, many tears.
August evoked the most conflicted emotions from me: I hated his character on account of several disagreeable words/choices/decisions, but I simultaneously couldn't resist falling in love with his erratic mood swings that I can only characterize as manic depression. He was one of the most intriguing characters because his motives and aspirations were never fully revealed, remaining shrouded in mystery and raising quite a few eyebrows along the way. Despite his love of manipulative mind games and harassing the protagonist, August brought a new definition to complex characters with dark pasts, and Gruen did a spectacular job shattering the stereotypes associated with this persona.
While the blatant omission of anyone carrying water for an elephant (a feat which the novel deems impossible due to the sheer volume the animals consume daily) was mildly disappointing, I adored the writing style, plot, and characters. While romance remained on the back burner for the majority of the novel, it allowed readers to focus on the underlying themes. Not only was the novel entertaining and utterly captivating, the writing itself was remarkable, reminiscent of a literary classic.
