Kiran
Sabriel did a decent job of scratching a recent itch I've had for high fantasy novels, but it often felt unconvincing. While the world Nix has created is in itself interesting, the way it was explored and described left me acutely aware that I was reading someone's fantasy novel. Sabriel is a very isolated character until roughly halfway in when Nix introduces two compelling characters, Mogget (a demonic cat) and Touchstone (an amnesiac & fallen hero). It was only as Sabriel began to interact with them that I felt her personality became distinct and complex. Those two characters definitely didn't get enough time in the novel, and I think these relationships deserved to be explored a little more before the resolution of the story.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading Charles H Ross' musings on Brighton. I say ‘musings' because, despite the publisher's description of this book as a ‘guide', if you were to use it as such, you would likely end up sleeping on the pier and trying to fish your dinner out of the aquarium. Because as insightful as Ross is, it is weird to read a guide that posits what the fish in the aquarium tanks probably taste like, and strange that it offers lodging advice like “some [hotels] are very bad, and some are very good. You make your choice and pay your money, and trust to fate.” While Chas doesn't offer very sincere travel advice, he does offer some very interesting and funny stories about Brighton of the past and present (that is, as present as 1881). Ross doesn't shy away from the town's weirder stories (notably, the many affairs of King George IV) and is very quick to offer his opinion on ‘hot' topics such as the latest in women's fashion or joking about why the reader should send him money by post (seriously, he makes this ‘joke' 2 or 3 times) and sometimes it's hard to see what connection his stories have to the sea-side city. But this still felt like the one of the most vivid windows into the past I've read compared to some of the other literature from this time I've consumed , because it offered a very small glimpse into several very different slices of life, not from the perspective of a famous Victorian novelist, but just an odd cartoonist who happens to really like Brighton.
Time of Contempt was a far less enjoyable read than its predecessor, Blood of Elves. The first half contains some adventure on all sides; Geralt makes a risky partnership, Yennifer is seen among her own kind and Ciri is given a taste of freedom with the chance to explore independently. Sapkowski's characters are fun to read about in almost any scenario, but at every moment of this book they are bogged down by rambling politics. For every spell cast, each exciting mis-adventure and all deadly foes slain, there are a barrage of political ramifications, and we get to read about them all in numbing detail. This is often par for the course with fantasy novels, however in this case there is a distinct lack of pay-off for drudging through it (at least in this instalment of the series!).
Ciri is placed in greater peril than ever before – she finds herself in some very dark situations, and while it was interesting to see her navigate these extremes, I'm not satisfied with how Sapkowski seemingly ‘resolves' these scenes. In fact, without divulging too much, the treatment of gender and toward the end, consent, is frequently uncomfortable here, and I'm not quite willing to write this off as it being a product of its time (original published in 1995). The ‘powerful' women in this story are cookie-cutter copies of each other – backstabbing, egotistical, women-hating sorceresses who I struggled to keep track of.
This said, I'm not ready to completely write this series off. I will more than likely continue on to Baptism of Fire, however I will need a little time before I'm ready to plunge back into the world of The Witcher.
Blacksad is, without a doubt, a beautiful collection of stories to look at. Its setting and characters are meticulously detailed and as emotive as it gets – but this beauty is largely skin-deep, and held back by a story that struggles to move past the clichés of the noir genre. Sometimes this pays off, creating a moody atmosphere that will almost certainly make you want to listen to a jazz saxophone whilst staring out of shadow-drenched window blinds at a rainy, downtown street. But other times, it makes for boring reading, and the mystery of each story tends to fall flat as you find that John Blacksad doesn't investigate so much as repeatedly beat up the bad guys until they give him the name of someone else to thrash, and so on until he stumbles onto a solution. While there is certainly a brilliance in the way each character's species reflects their attitude and part to play in the episode, the characters themselves are largely stock and uninteresting. That said, Blacksad hits its stride mid-way through the second episode, when the story dares to explore more complex themes such as race and revenge, and livelier characters are introduced to give Blacksad opportunities for more offbeat interactions. It's a treat to explore the many elaborately crafted environments, from a dilapidated aircraft factory blanketed in snow to a shiny, beach-side mansion, and I often found myself pausing to soak in the clean, colourful world presented by Guarnido.
Overall, Blacksad is veritable treat for the eyes, but is constrained by its derivative characters and story.
I have read a fair few books now which try to retell classic folktales. Many are bogged down by their faithfulness to source materials, or so devoted to literally translating original works that they become dry and joyless to read. Others indulge in so much creative inventiveness that they no longer resemble the original material at all. Rosalind Kerven finds an enchanting middle ground between the two, exploring the traditional stories we are familiar with, accompanied with a charming and engaging flavour of their own. Although there are some stories which you will have heard before, many are less known but enchantingly told none-the-less. In this beautiful hardback edition, each tale is supported by atmospheric illustrations as well as detailed notes on sources and history – these are also presented fascinatingly, with the author noting changes made as well as discrepancies between sources.
Kerven makes reading the stories of England's heritage a spellbinding, and highly enjoyable experience.
It's been so long since I've rated something two stars. This was so boring and was a real task to get through. I get that this book probably has a ton of layers. It's probably rewarding to re-read this closely and understand all the complex meanings behind every sentence. But I will never voluntarily read this again, because it was just - so - boring.
