Review: A Deadly Education (The Scholomance #1)

2 stars. Hahahahaha. Okay. An education INDEED. I am honestly so sorry - I tried to like this. I really did. I had heard that it's supposed to be like a sort of warped HP from Hermione's perspective with a lot more violence and death. And it was, I guess. But this damn book seemed designed for me to hate - full of a bunch of personal pet peeves that I just couldn’t get over.

But first: The Controversy. I did some research before starting to read, trying to get some clarity on the accusations and the reasons why it's being called racist. And I think I understand. Some of the language choices in this book come across as clinical and forced and ignorant. I'll be the first to cry "depiction is not endorsement," (or in other words - the character thinks this, but does the author?) but to be honest I don't even feel like I should weigh in. Please know that I tried to read this with a critical eye and an open mind and a determination to use it as an opportunity to learn - if not on what to do, at the very least on what not to do. I see why readers were offended. I also see why the author made the choices she did.

Okay. A Deadly Education is about a teenage girl named Galadriel, a student at a violent and terrifying magical school called the Scholomance. The Scholomance houses and teaches magic-wiedling young people how to hone their craft while being threatened - constantly and to the death - by evil monsters lurking in the walls and the dark corners of their home. El gets a bit tangled up socially with the school hero, Orion Lake, and has to navigate the typical minefields of being an adolescent (puberty, cafeteria politics, academic competition) while, well, trying to stay alive in an environment that's trying to kill her before graduation.

Oh, man. Okay. Again, I apologize. I really did try. But when I hit 86% and I found myself skimming?! Forget about it. I can tell Naomi Novik really, really loved her own idea and dug deep. I get it. But I feel like I have to catalogue why this didn't work for me, even though it feels kind of gross to do so, because I just know there are readers out there who have the same cringe triggers as me (if they aren't put off by all the well-deserved dramatic conversation surrounding this book in the first place):

First - the British slang and mannerisms. It's a bit difficult to explain, but they didn't fit right here. Every time I came across one ("git" "scanner" etc.) they seemed cute-in-a-bad-way, out-of-place, and forced.

Second - Orion. I am on a lifelong quest to find a well-written teenage boy - or at the very least, a teenage boy character that resembles even just one of the teenage boys I have actually known in real life. My quest continues.

Third - the use of the name Galadriel and the LOTR references. This is a personal thing for me (I told you these were pet peeves!). LOTR is so sacred to me it honestly felt ... weird. When El started randomly referencing her name and the movies and ... something about this just seemed really off. Like a wink or a nod that was TOTALLY unnecessary.

Fourth - the exposition! The info dumping! ARGHHHH! I initially thought the first chapter would be the heaviest - full of explanations and terminology and rule-dropping - but NO! This type of writing - "educating the reader as we go along with the story" - continues for the rest of the damn. book. I'm talking about a new character/concept (the valedictorian thing) in the FINAL PAGES OF THE BOOK. The action itself, if we removed all the lecturing, would probably be about five pages long. I'M SERIOUS. If you are in the mood to be TAUGHT a CONCEPT, rather than READ a STORY, this book might be for you.

Fifth - wayyyy too much emphasis on cafeteria tables. I went through that in middle school and I have no desire to enter into any intense consideration of that sort of thing ever, ever, ever again in my life.

I will say: it's a fascinating, complex concept. And Naomi Novik does a great job of subverting tropes and creating delightfully stubborn, fierce, powerful female protagonist. El's overall feistiness was truly appreciated. I'll give her that. I also think more books - especially YA books - should so blatantly explore and address issues like inequality and economic status quo. I know it's a hot topic word, but there is a lot about privilege and its advantages.

I'm bummed though, dude. I really am. It was just a 2-star read for me.

A Deadly Education on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Ruins

5 stars. FUCKING BRUTAL. And I fucking loved it. I have to say, this is an absolutely brilliant piece of horror. To develop the idea for this story, plot it out, and then fall into the right headspace to write it must have been absolute torture. Sure there's a level of predictability, but it's employed really well, like the meta moments strewn throughout the tropes. It's deeply disturbing and I am in awe.

The Ruins is about two couples who, while vacationing in Mexico, decide as a sort of adventure to help a new German friend find his missing brother. Accompanied by another new friend (a Greek man who speaks no English), the group ventures deep into the jungle to find the guy with varying levels of enthusiasm. It's hot, it's buggy, it's muddy, and by the time they reach what appears to be their destination, a sense of dread and discomfort permeates the group. Something is very wrong in this part of the jungle, and now the locals won't let them leave.

I've seen this book described as survival horror, but I'm not sure it fits so squarely under that umbrella. Ultimately it is about survival, and there are enough anxious parts about finding water and food rationing to satisfy even the most academic reader. But there is another evil central to the story - an unnatural, malevolent force - that threatens them in sadistic, horrifying, almost playful ways. That's true horror right there. That's a monster. To have this force play with and off of the natural attempts to survive exposure is breathtaking. No complaints about the villain.

Along the lines of survival: I have to say, I've read (and watched) horror all my life and I've never really contemplated my own mortality in ways that this book inspired. I think it's mostly due to context (2020, heavily associated with death) and some recent news that sent me spinning a bit, and maybe my own experiences traveling, but man, some of these passages punched me right in the existential feels. You’ve been warned. But for me, no complaints about the triggers.

I have seen other reviews touch on the fact that these characters may or may not be one-dimensional, idiotic, not worth rooting for; may or may not even be likeable. Did I feel annoyed with them, at times? OH MY GOD YES. Did I want to yell at them? PUT DOWN THAT WATER, AMY. Did I want a little more complexity beneath all the hand-wringing and tequila slinging? I FEEL LIKE MATHIAS WAS HOT. HE WAS HOT, RIGHT? But at the end of the day it didn't matter, it didn't impact my reading experience negatively. I thought each character's arc was actually really well-planned and well-written. And so, no complaints about the characters.

I know I fucking drone on about Stephen King all the time and I'm constantly comparing other authors to him and blah blah blah. I'm sorry! I can't help it. But trust me when I say this: The Ruins will appeal to readers who enjoy King. It's that good and Scott Smith is that talented. I can see why it's considered a classic.

And now I'm going to go take a big ol’ shower.

The Ruins on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Piranesi

5 stars. All the stars. Favorite read of 2020. Piranesi will be etched in my mind forever as a book that feels written For Me. Beautiful, strange, special. Those are the words that come to mind but there's so much to think about and so much to unpack - how on earth can I process it all?! I checked it out from the library but will be buying it immediately so I can return to the Halls as often as possible. Daily, maybe. For comfort.

Piranesi is a collection of journal entries written by an unknown and unnamed narrator who inhabits a labyrinthian world of connected classical buildings full of statues. He shares this world with no other people - just the ocean, amiable flocks of birds, and the remains of those who traveled there before him. He seeks to catalogue the world, tracking the tides of the ocean and mapping the halls and their statues. He receives regular visits from another man he calls the Other - a man who seeks a Great Knowledge within the world. And he begins to realize, slowly, that there is more beyond his world. More than he ever could have possibly imagined.

I keep considering Annihilation as a suitable comparison - both feature deeply academic minds (systematic thinkers) as protagonists, both feature mindbending, metaphysical mysteries, both have become infinitely special to me. I appreciate books about people who must work hard to fit; people who try and try to fit and don't and eventually discover that the fact that they don’t allows them to navigate impossible - and I mean impossible - situations. I love these characters. They are my tribe.

Clarke's aesthetics, her visuals and imagery and descriptions of the statues, were shots straight to my art-starved heart. I certainly didn't expect to miss museums so much during the Terrors of 2020 - not just the museums themselves, but the specific experiences and memories of visiting them, walking around, feeling weightless and soothed by the art around me (ex-art history student, lol). I realize Piranesi's world is NOT a museum, exactly, but the sisterly concept made my soul ache all the same. Some of the passages about how the narrator turns to the statues for comfort, knowledge, protection, with so much reverence and respect ... are absolutely lovely.

Are there lessons here? Probably - definitely. For such a little book, Piranesi explores big stuff like identity, academic pursuit, ego, humanity, survival, resilience, fear, deception, friendship, memory and kindness. Moments, such as when Piranesi sacrifices three days of fuel to help an albatross build a nest, will stick with me forever. The contrast between the interactions Piranesi has with the Other and then with 16 (trying to avoid spoilers) says so much about intention and empathy. It hurts but it feels good.

So much about me!! Ugh. This is turning into a response/reaction, not a review. Plot-wise, story-wise though, Piranesi is a work of genius. We as readers are dropped into something so strange it should be too much - but it isn't. Clarke never, ever asks too much of the reader, and the way she drops little hints and clues and glimpses of the bigger picture is brilliant. The pacing is perfect. The unspooling of this thread is incredible. This should be studied. Which it will, by me. A lot.

Piranesi on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Queen of Nothing (The Folk of the Air #3)

3 stars. I KNOW! KILL ME! But before I go further I feel like I should expand on a couple of things: first, I don't like endings. I naturally dislike them. I don't know why! I just prefer beginnings. Second, I don't like it when sexual tension is ... well ... resolved. There's a reason I started hating The Office when Pam and Jim got together. I like banter! I like angst! I'll take a cruel bully over a lovesick puppy! (What is wrong with me?) So I'm giving this a lower rating because honestly - it would have never been my favorite to begin with. It's a me thing, not an author thing, not a story thing, not a writing thing.

That being said, more objectively, this may have been a little weaker by way of plot. I missed the fierce excitement of the first two, and I missed the nastiness. There wasn't enough bite. I loved the icky cliffhanger of the second book - actually, I'm not going to summarize because I want to avoid spoilers - but I was hoping that it would take a bit more rock'n'roll for Jude to get herself out of that one. Cardan's transformation over these three books seemed a little too smooth for my taste. And the ending?! Would you like some crackers with that cheese?!

Otherwise, WOW. What an accomplishment! This series is awesome, compelling, addictive, well-written, and FUN. Holly Black wrapped things up super suitably, throwing out credible and interesting character developments like confetti. I really, really loved the way Jude learned her lessons without sacrificing the core of her identity. I can see why so many readers connected with her and stand behind her - in fact, I can see why this series inspired such a passionate fanbase (which says a lot, coming from someone who is mostly disgruntled about fanbases).

Worth the time and the effort and then some. And I managed to finish another series just before the end of the year, per my mostly-failed reading challenge. Go me.

The Queen of Nothing on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Wicked King (The Folk of the Air #2)

4 stars. Delighted to find that Holly Black really settled into the storytelling in this book. It's more sophisticated than the first and brilliant as a trilogy bridge. There's more self-awareness from the writing and from the characters themselves. Happy to say I really enjoyed my return visit to Trope City. There's more faerie politics! More intrigue! More romance! More murder! So fun.

The Wicked King picks up where The Cruel Prince left off, with Cardan on the throne and Jude by his side as his "counselor," aka, ruler of the kingdom (not a spoiler). But, like, there's so much trouble afoot - family drama, and upcoming wedding, threats from old villains seeking revenge, and dangerous alliances that could lead to outright war.

One of my favorite aspects of Jude's character and her journey is her struggle with herself - her regret, her guilt, her awareness of her own poor decision-making - the arrogant and power-hungry aspects of her identity. In fact, I loved the level of self-loathing among a few of the characters. I also really appreciate her relationship with her guardian/second father, which is complicated and messy and blurs the line between love and hate (it's a thing, okay?! And no, I don't mean "hate-to-love," lol).

Also worth noting: Jude's appearance is barely described. It's not how she measures her self-worth, nor how she is judged. These books are unapologetic about things like sex and nudity - focusing less on moral judgments and more on advancement of character. It's a fascinating way to write YA and is clearly done well here, so I hope there's more books like this to come!

Immersive and captivating don't even begin to cover it. More sophisticated than the first and just as entertaining.

The Wicked King on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: The Cruel Prince (The Folk of the Air #1)

4 stars. Okay, I can see why readers love this series. I haven't picked up a YA fantasy in ages and I have to say, the dress (described in exquisite detail, of course, typically pastel or ombre with delicate embellishments that compliment my eyes), still fits. I really enjoyed it. Perfect? Far from it. But it read nicely and was utterly compelling from a sugary, just-one-more-bite kind of way.

For those of you on Goodreads who have miraculously missed the prevalence of this book, The Cruel Prince is about a mortal girl named Jude, who, after the brutal murder of her parents (not a spoiler), is raised in the land of faeries. Her guardian is a war general for the king, who plans to abdicate and crown one of his sons. As the coronation approaches, Jude gets super tangled in faerie court politics in the messy way only feisty YA protagonists can, which is to say, pick up your sword and outsmart them all, girl. Spill some blood in between the hot kissing.

I really enjoyed the fact that Holly Black makes this a modern story while sticking - for the most part - to the original faerie canon. There's so much lore to revel in, like bargains and truth-telling and magic and changelings and revelry and enchantment and twinkly lights and sweet wine and dangerous fruit. I loved that aspect and hope she leans into it in future books.

Otherwise, well, listen. It's a trope city up in here. But I still loved it. This book reminded me of a sensation I used to feel while reading - something that's largely lost as an adult, or maybe because of the books I read these days. And that sensation is possibility. These are the types of books that are arguably ridiculous, obvious fantasy. But you can't help but feel a little inkling of hope that maybe somewhere, for someone, it's real.

I'll take one Cardan to go, please.

The Cruel Prince on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Wanderers

3 stars. PHEW - that was a marathon! It was a race against the clock for me to finish this one before it got whisked away back to the library, so I think I'll always sort of associate this with an overwhelming/unreasonable deadline, lol. But I did it! And in this miserable year of our lord 2020, too! An appropriate read, though:

Wanderers begins when a highly advanced computer called Black Swan detects an anomaly in Pennsylvania - a group of individuals who appear to be "sleepwalking" and can't be stopped (if they stop, or are stopped, they explode). Meanwhile, an unfortunate consequence of climate change releases an incurable virus called White Mask, triggering, well, the apocalypse. Following the growing group of "walkers" through a dying America, Wanderers explores questions around human fear, heroism and resilience in varied, unforgettable ways.

I should really work on lowering my expectations when a book is compared to Stephen King. Obviously, this book wouldn't exist without The Stand, but if it's trying to be a NEW The Stand, it fails. Maybe it isn't, maybe it's a love letter or a tribute or a modern spin on the core of the story. But I was disappointed reading Wanderers because it was so loudly hyped as Kingish! Kingly, whatever! M-O-O-N, that spells misplaced praise. Not because Chuck Wendig is bad, but because he isn't Stephen King. No one is.

Beyond that major disconnect, I do have a few other isolated complaints. The villains are too cartoonish, the heroes and heroines too uncomplex. So many of the nuances and intricacies of America's divisions are lost here. Perhaps the messiness of it all wouldn't lend itself to a pretty narrative, but I'm convinced this story could've been told with more depth and understanding.

(That being said, maybe Wendig wasn't going for depth or understanding - maybe he was pursuing a more cathartic, extreme, everything is black-and-white approach, as in, there are no words dedicated to why the villain is a villain - he just is, like Disney's Ursula or something, which I have to admit, is kind of fun. Or maybe Wendig just needed to work a little more on distinct characterization, going deep instead of wide. I dunno. I've heard it's disgustingly difficult to write a book, by the way.)

Also - I know - I get it - I'm aware of why there was a pregnancy subplot. But I'm so over it as a plot device. Shana's whole character in particular felt forced and wide of the mark. And Benji and Sadie had zero chemistry.

ANYWAY. There is a lot here I really did enjoy and appreciate. Wendig plays with religion, racism, love, artificial technology, climate change, family dynamics, parenthood, addiction, aging, depression and mental illness, politics, partisanship and loss of innocence, plus a little commentary on social media (as a treat), all through the lens of what it means to "face the end." I love Big Themes like that. Each character deals with his or her own shit differently, which is nice, and there ARE a couple of delightfully horrific and well-written moments throughout (the chapter "The Life and Death of Jerry Garlin" comes to mind. That's when I really got hooked).

All in all, I'm really glad to have read it. Wanderers helped me process what is ultimately a completely unprocessable year (by triggering an EXISTENTIAL CRISIS AHHH). I enjoyed the little details and the references and the ruminations of my favorite character, Pete Corley. I was amazed by the unpredictable-ness of it all. I'm excited to have the hefty reading experience under my belt. I'm dying to talk about it with everyone!! And I truly, truly admire the way characters spiraled around each other before clashing in PERFECT ways.

For the record, I agree. We lost Prince, we lost Bowie, and the world went to shit. Coincidence? I think not.

Wanderers on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: My Sister, the Serial Killer

4 stars. This is a super clever, witty, ice cold glass of sparkling water for a cold winter's day. With a simple premise - a hard-working, practical nurse helps cover up her beautiful sister's crimes - we are presented with fully baked, semi-satirical ideas about beauty, jealousy, romance, social media and desire. I was really impressed with the storytelling, even if it was a bit predictable, I still deeply appreciated the characterizations and the way things unfolded. The depiction of sisters here - painted in what I would call extremes - felt true.

It's one of those books that about murder, but not really about murder at all. In fact very few words are actually dedicated to the crimes in question; it's more about the main character's approach to it all; the complexity of her bond with her sister; her resentment and anger and insecurities and the strange way her own continued willing involvement is also the heaviest burden she carries. It's difficult not to want what you'd traditionally expect from a story like this (I wanted Ayoola to go down in absolute epic slasher flames ... or maybe even ... a team-up?! Sisters before misters superheroes sort of thing?), but that's part of its charm.

I look forward to more stories like this; ones that subvert traditional frames and narratives that generally dominate the psychological thriller market. Like others have noted, the whole thing is perhaps not as fleshed out as it could have been. Sort of tastes like a light beer, you know what I mean? Or an acoustic cover? IDK. A thoroughly enjoyable reading experience, for sure. I will never not fully support stories about the intense cruelty and love between sisters.

My Sister, the Serial Killer on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil

3 stars. I went into this totally blind, except knowing that it's considered a classic and gives off potent Southern Gothic vibes. I vaguely remembered it as a nonfiction book, BUT THEN I started reading it, and 25% of the way in was like ... there's no way this is nonfiction. BUT THEN I looked it up to confirm, and lo and behold, apparently this IS nonfiction. BUT THEN I read on Wikipedia (all hail) that the author did admit - as he eventually does in his afterword - to fabricating some characters and events to make the book read better.

And wow, it worked. This book reads like a smooth, buttery biscuit. Crunchy, sweet, and well-baked with the harsh aftertaste of racism. Gotta love the American South. Midnight is one hundred percent too good to be true, but I wouldn't be surprised if MOST of it did happen - just not in the neat and tidy way the story is written. I've met people who embody certain stereotypes from all over the country, and not one of them fit THAT perfectly into the mold. I'm quite sure the author met these folks and then conveniently turned them into storybook characters, which is neither here nor there.

Anyway, Midnight is a *cough cough* nonfiction novel about that time an established antiques dealer shot and killed his young male lover in his famous historic mansion. The core story itself, which details the crime, the trial and the town's reaction, is surrounded and sandwiched by captivating vignettes about Savannah, Georgia. Every little detail is fascinating from a location perspective and a people perspective, providing an insider view of Savannah's secrets and scandals.

Just a quick note: the events captured in this book happened recently. At times I caught myself assuming it all went down a century or more ago, thanks to some seriously ignorant, racist, sexist, homophobic, intolerant attitudes. But no, my parents were super alive when this happened - in fact, Jim Williams died a year to the day before I was born. While this is astounding but not surprising, it actually makes me hopeful that in like what - thirty, forty years? We'll have progressed even further, even in the South.

Midnight is one part anthropological study, one part courtroom drama, one part portrait of a stubborn city in America. I wouldn't exactly call it true crime, though that may be because I'm used to the graphic true crime content explosion of the last five years. Anyway, it has all the things I love. And the ending - the final few paragraphs - really got me. I'm glad this story was told, and I hope others like it will be told - in words rather than crime scene photos, in whispers rather than shouts.

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads

Review: Catherine House

5 stars. WOW, UNEXPECTED!! In a great way. Very Vita Nostra, which I INHALED and loved, so I really enjoyed this. I saw Catherine House described as quirky in another review, and I'd agree except I'd maybe say darkly quirky instead. The narrator has a meandering, unpredictable voice that feels like quite a slap to the brain and the plot doesn't really progress in a natural way. Again, very unexpected and unique.

The story is told by our protagonist, Ines, at the beginning of a three year stay at Catherine House, an exclusive and isolated school whose alumni go on to be incredibly successful - rock stars, famous authors, Supreme Court judges, etc. Catherine House has an unusual set of rules and curriculum standards, and Ines, after a rocky start, begins to feel at home in a way she never felt on the outside. She finds herself drawn toward an academic path focused on "new materials" and attempts to investigate while determining her own uncertain future.

The writing here is very beautiful and atmospheric, and to me shone far brighter than the plot or central mystery. That's okay with me, it won't be for other readers. Just like Vita Nostra - pulling from what is probably The Secret History (I see you I feel you *waves* Hi, Bunny) - this book has a campus novel slash dark academia feel to it in all the best ways, with some absolutely brilliant details. Yeah, I'm talking about the meta lessons about the uncanny, and futurism, and surrealism. Yeah, I'm talking about the references to all the rich, sweet food eaten in the Hall. Yeah, I'm talking about the wavy, vague depictions of what it is to be wine-soaked and young in the summertime. These details really impressed me and came across as vivid, important and thoughtful.

Now that I'm writing this, I think I'd call this book a feeling. It's not an answer, or a declaration, or even a narrative in the traditional sense. It's like slipping into a pool or a cloud or a bubble. It feels cold and hot and provokes dread and anticipation and desire with subtle gestures rather than outright action. Reading it is sensational, in a literal sense; unsettling and even disturbing at times, but all in all it is the type of thing I love. Cinematic and beautifully artistic. So, yeah, not for everyone, definitely for me. 

I have a feeling that Elisabeth Thomas and I are about to become good friends. 

Catherine House on: Amazon | Bookshop.org | Goodreads