Review: Milk Fed by Melissa Broder [General Fiction]

 

Rating: 4/5 stars. CWs for book: eating disorders, parental abuse, mentions of homophobia. "The word golem, in English, means shapeless mass. But in Hebrew, it means unfinished substance." The golem is one of the central motifs of this novel, and in some ways, the book itself is an "unfinished substance" as well - but not in a bad way. It's left open-ended and nebulous, but that's the idea - in life, there aren't any endings (except death, which would have gone against the optimistic flair of the novel), but ever-constant change and development - and Rachel, the protagonist of this book, has certainly changed for the better. The title is possibly the most well-chosen title I've seen in a long time. As it suggests, this is a novel about being mothered. What it definitely isn't, is a novel about mothers. It's a novel about seeking that primal, maternal comfort from anyone and anything you can when the woman who birthed and raised you is only ever a source of poison. As a novel in the "literary fiction" sort of category, it's certainly not for everyone. What it is, however, is a love letter. A love letter to food, to eroticism and sapphic love, to Judaism, and ultimately, to yourself.  Amazon Afflilate links for Milk Fed paperback: UK | US | DE

Review: The Discomfort of Evening by Marieke Lucas Rijneveld [Literary Fiction]

 

Rating: 1/5 stars. 

"According to the pastor, discomfort is good. In discomfort we are real."

This quote sums up the whole book - but not in a good way.

The Discomfort of Evening is the classic Misery Porn that is so common in literary fiction. (Personally I think "literary fiction" is just genre fiction wearing a monocle and smoking a cigar, but lets not talk about why I think the whole term is stupid right now.)

It was the epitome of "literary fiction" in basically every single way - the Hemingway-esque prose (i.e. not poetic or purple; minimalist), a series of increasingly terrible events, burgeoning childhood/adolescent sexual awakenings tainted by said terrible events, and of course you mustn't forget to point out how hypocritical religion is.

Unfortunately, I've become accustomed to literary fiction being depressing to the point of farce, so I wasn't particularly surprised. The literary consensus seems to be that happy endings are for genre fiction, especially romance, and literary fiction is all about being Serious with Gritty Realism that always manifests as awful things happening because life is pain and full of misery, apparently. I don't want to stop reading literary fiction, because some can do depressing books well (The Secret History, Lolita), and some don't have a wholly depressing ending  (The Great Gatsby, Cloud Atlas).

The Discomfort of Evening is a novel about a deep, roling depression that takes over the family after the death of the eldest son. You would think, then, that we got a lot of emotional insights - but we didn't. The author took "show, not tell" to its extreme, so we hardly ever know precisely what Jas is feeling, which in turn creates a disconnect between the reader and the main character. It was just all a bit flat, and pointless. An entirely pointless book with incredibly mediocre writing; although this might be a translation issue, I doubt it.

And this won the International Booker Prize. My God. When are Serious Literature people going to stop going crazy over wanky stuff like this which is basically just, "I'm a child on the cusp of being a teenager and a tragedy has happened but my parents refuse to talk about it so everything is fucked I guess. Oh and BTW, religion is bad."

It's like the author was like, "Oh fuck, I just realised my book is a load of pointless wank, I'd better shoehorn some social commentary into it! Uhhhh religious people are hypocritical. Yup, that should do it."

I have no idea how I read this whole thing without skimming, actually. Forget the International Booker Prize, I think I deserve some sort of prize for finishing this in its entirety. 

Review: The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting by K.J. Charles [M/M Romance, Historical]

 Rating: 5/5 stars

Minor spoilers ahead, perhaps? I was lucky enough to receive an ARC of this, which in no way affects my rating or review. Another delight of a regency novel by K.J. Charles! This was excellently plotted and paced, with the sophistication of characters I've come to expect from this author. Realistic characters with realistic vices and virtues to match, and both the main characters being very likable while still having their flaws. The interactions between Robin and Hart were very well done, and I loved how Robin wasn't automatically offended when Hart suggested he look after him financially; in pretty much every book I've read with similar themes, the would-be sugar baby (in lieu of a better term) is always offended to highlight the fact that they're "not a whore" or something. In contrast, Robin gets off on being called a "thousand-a week whore," which is both a Big Mood and very refreshing . The way both characters navigate this difficult situation is fantastic, with each character making mistakes but never being overly melodramatic in response; conflict seems to arise organically, rather than being obviously manufactured like many other books. 100% recommended for regency fans, romance fans, m/m fans, "indecent proposal" fans, and basically everyone. The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting by K.J. Charles will be available on Amazon from 24th February 2021.

Review: The Rest of us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness

 

Rating: 1/5 stars

CW for the book/review: mention of eating disorders, alcoholism, OCD/anxiety, emotional abuse

Here’s a milestone on this blog: my first bona fide rant.

The only reason this isn't one star is because, despite the overall mediocrity of the book, I still loved the premise - a bunch of normal kids just trying to get their goddamn high school diploma while in the background the Chosen Ones fall in love with vampires and summon mythological beings and blow up the school (multiple times). (NB: because of the thing mentioned in the rant at the bottom, I've revised my rating to 1 star, lmao.)

At the beginning, I thought that I just didn't like this because it was set in a high school; let's be real here, a high school is the most boring place on Earth and the only reason to use it as a setting is so that high schoolers can relate to it. Which is obviously completely fine, but if you're like me and haven't been in high school for a few years, it's pretty boring.

But it wasn't just because it was in high school that it was boring. The whole thing was just... fucking boring?

Also, the whole vibe of this was that these were the "ordinary kids" except they... weren't, really? Mikey and Mel's mother is a state senator running for Congress or the Actual Senate (idk I'm not sure, I'm not American so I'm not entirely sure how this shit works), and Henna's parents are going on this charity/missionary thing to Africa during the summer and taking her with them. Obviously it would be boring if they were completely ordinary, but I feel like a lot of the point of this book was portraying the characters as an "everyman" sort of character who everyone could relate to, and they... weren't, really.

But one thing that WAS relatable was a great portrayal of mental illness, specifically bulimia and OCD, and a turbulent home life, including an alcoholic father and an emotionally absent mother (I don't want to call her emotionally abusive because I'm not entirely sure that's the right term for it, but she's definitely Not Great).

I liked the metaphor of the adults not believing all the supernatural shit going on even though they saw the same shit when they were teens, as a parallel to adults dismissing/trivialising teenager's problems because they've forgotten how turbulent adolescence can be and that it is in fact very easy to have The Worst Day of Your Life when you're young and haven't really had many days in the first place.

But I would hesitate recommending this to anyone, including teenagers. As I said, I thought at the beginning it was boring just because of high school and that I'd have loved it when I was sixteen, but after reading the rest, I don't think I would.

There was also a mention that Mikey, the MC, slept with a 27 year old woman when he was 16, and it's all kind of brushed under the rug? Literally the only thing that's said about it is that his mother was "a bit upset" and Mikey describes himself as being "a bit stupid sometimes" - like, ex-fucking-scuse me? What the hell kind of message is that sending to teenagers? It's pretty irresponsible to put this in a book marketed towards teens and to not say something like "this woman was a predator and the teenage boy wasn't at fault" or something. (I know the age of consent in some countries, including my own, is 16 but I honestly think it should be 18, with a "Romeo and Juliet" law where two minors within 2 years of each other wouldn't get prosecuted, because adults having sex with minors turns my fucking stomach. But I could rant about this all day and I'm veering off course a little, so.)

TL;DR incredibly disappointing, wasted potential, wouldn't recommend to anybody, massive failure, the end.

Review: Fellside by M.R. Carey [Horror, Mystery/Suspense]

 

Rating: 5/5 stars

M.R. Carey solidified himself in my mind as a masterful writer of horror and suspense with The Girl With All the Gifts and its sequel, so I was both nervous and excited for this - excited for the obvious reasons, and nervous because if this disappointed me, it was falling from a great height - and since this has quite mediocre ratings on Goodreads (3.5 at the time of writing), this worried me even further. 

Thankfully, this was one of the semi-regular times when Goodreads and I have differed in opinion. 

I hadn't read The Girl in a long time, so although I had a vague memory that I liked Carey's writing style a lot, I had forgotten just how good it was. This is basically the blueprint of how to write a horror/suspense novel - perfectly paced; exquisitely structured with layers of plot and mysteries that tangle and unfurl; unpretentious writing that nevertheless had some absolutely fantastic turns of phrase and descriptive flourishes without overwhelming the narrative, like just a pinch of saffron in a dish. 

There's also an absolutely stellar cast of characters. Set in a prison that's rotten and corrupt to the core, Carey introduces the most unsympathetic characters and somehow manages to twist them into being sympathetic, whereas others really are just pure evil. 

Watch out, Stephen King - you've got a challenger for the best horror/suspense writer!

Review: This Is How You Lose the Time War [Science Fiction]

 

Rating: 5/5 stars

“This feels like teetering on the brink of something that will unmake me.”

Utterly impossibly, this book managed to exceed my expectations. Do not take me lightly when I say I expected this book to be a masterpiece - and it was more.

Literary genre fiction is something so rare it’s sometimes considered impossible. This Is How You Lose the Time War laughs in the face of critics who disparage science-fiction, and it is not literary and poetic in spite of being science-fiction, it simply is.

I feel like this book has turned me inside out, leaving my nervous system exposed like wires, raw and aching. I am going to carry this book with me for a very long time, like these characters carry their letters.

Review: Featherhood by Charlie Gilmour [Memoir, Non-Fiction]

 Rating: 5/5 stars

Since the year is nearly at a close, I feel safe in saying that Featherhood is unquestionably the best memoir of 2020.

I have been following Benzene's story on here since the beginning, so of course I got my greedy little goblin hands on this as fast as I could.

Eyebrows are often raised amongst the cynical and the merely pragmatic whenever someone with famous connections – in this case the son of Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmour – lands a book deal, but in this case within the first few pages it becomes clear that Gilmour is a superb writer, and that this book was published on its own merit rather than because of friends in high places. It is ostensibly a memoir about the bond between Gilmour and the magpie he and his partner rescued from near-death as a fledging, but it's also about so much more than that. Gilmour dives deep into the very heart of his past, relationships, and his soul.

Featherhood is about overcoming despair, learning from past mistakes, and creating a new life. As a celebration of the magpie, it is a must read for those indifferent to magpies or those who hate them – because it will certainly change your mind. It is impossible to read this book and not come out as a magpie-lover, as Gilmour extols the virtues, vices and sheer sparkling intelligence of these wonderful birds. By turns humorous and heartfelt, tragic and triumphant, if you are looking for a book that will bring a new, multi-faceted perspective to your life, Featherhood is it. By turns humorous and heartfelt, it is a reminder in these troubled times that there is always room for kindness, both to our human and animal neighbours.

I absolutely cannot wait to see what Charlie Gilmour comes out with next!

Review: Reverie by Ryan La Sala [YA Fantasy]

 

Rating: 3/5 stars

Ryan La Sala puts a lot of good ideas forward in his debut novel, such as the eponymous concept of a “reverie”, a dream-like state that can pull people into it and have devastating consequences. Unfortunately, however, I think the book failed to deliver on its promise.

Kane made some stupid, illogical decisions such as trusting/not trusting certain people that made absolutely no sense and were clearly there only for the furthering of the plot. The plot itself was very slow-going at first, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but even when it picked up it felt oddly disjointed, like an inexperienced knitter dropping stitches all the time and not having the skill to fix it. 

The romance was same gender (m/m) which was nice, but the trajectory was very predictable. The characters were also not particularly interesting.

Basically, a classic 3 star book: interesting premise, failed execution.

Review: This Town Will Never Let Us Go [Science Fiction]

 

Rating: 5/5 stars.

“This superstition, that anything you do makes any kind of sense on the grand scale, is only right and proper. It’s the ridiculous, impossible, great and unarguable superstition which makes the whole of humanity possible.”

Listen. 

I am offended – an offence which cuts not only to the bone, but to my very marrow – that this has so few ratings, that this is so obscure. I understand why. An indie publisher; a spin-off known only to the most hardcore of fans.

Faction Paradox reaches, with its bare hands, into the dark cosmic horror underbelly of Doctor Who and pulls it, glistening like obsidian, to the surface. Almost literally. 

For this is a Doctor Who spin-off, except you don’t need to know anything about Doctor Who at all. I am not joking; they are ALL standalone characters, ALL standalone plots. You will find no Doctor here. Even if you don’t like Doctor Who, or tried to get into it and failed, if you like science fiction then I implore you to read this. not only is there no crossover of basically anything except from the general universe, it doesn’t feel like Doctor Who. It’s something utterly different. It is Doctor Who’s estranged cousin, the one who none of your family ever talk to, and you aren’t sure what they do for a living but something about them screams mortician, taxidermist, and/or mad scientist. 

For some reason, it reminds me of a cross between Welcome to Night Vale and Black Mirror. It is at turns poignant, trippy, what can only be described as batshit insane, and humorous:

“Valentine doesn’t think clothes are particularly relevant, and it shows. Just look. They’re as uninterested in him as he is in them.” 

“Now she’ll never get hold of a decent fried malmotti wrap ever again, and if there’s one thing guaranteed to make people turn against the War, it’s that kind of inconvenience.” 

But most of all, it’s somehow very Joycean. This is James Joyce doing hard sci-fi, and it is utterly glorious.

Even the format itself is Joycean: it’s a book written in chapterlets probably only 500 words each, a format that I adore anyway, but these are not just any chapterlets: each one represents a minute. We begin at midnight, like all good things do, and go through until six. It’s an extremely clever format, and I’m in love with it. 
So, by now, you’re probably wondering – well, what the hell is this all about? Well, there are three main characters: 

– Inangela, a teenage goth who spends most of the book zooming around the town in her Hell Truck with her friend named Horror. She is desperate to become part of Faction Paradox, even if she pretends it isn’t, and even if nobody is entirely sure if this cult/criminal syndicate/subculture is even real.

– paramedic Valentine, who has unacceptable opinions about the War. what is the War? Nobody really knows. Nobody wants to know, because they could never begin to comprehend something on such a celestial, vast scale. This is a War between what can only be gods. 

– pop star Tiffany, antic and strange, with a public image even more so. I would be surprised if her storyline wasn’t based on a crazy sci-fi version of Richard Dawkins’ memes, a word that has been more than a little bit ruined for me due to its internet connotations, but never mind. 

This is my first Lawrence Miles book, which is almost a sin for someone who claims to be such a big fan of Doctor Who and its extended universe. I don’t know if all his books are like this or this is just his faction paradox style, but holy hell. It is incredible. I had a really hard time whittling the number of quotes down, because I just wanted to put in practically everything. Extremely witty and profound, Miles’ narrative sucks you straight into the story and makes you experience an insane acid trip that will never let you go. 

I actually started to write this review when I was less than a third into the book. This is astonishing because I never draft reviews or write them before I’ve finished reading; they are usually just stream-of-consciousnesses thrown into the void of Goodreads. But I had so many thoughts bouncing around that I was terrified of losing any. 

I hope I have managed to stir your interest. If not, take a gander at the blurb. If that doesn’t interest you, then I don’t know what will. 

This is not light. This is heavy and deep, and if you’re not really into science fiction I don’t think I’d recommend it. It does not just tie your brain into knots, it knits a jumper from it. (I apologise for that visual image.) It is slow, yet also captivating in a way that never fails. It took me a while to read this; although I can sometimes read excellent books very quickly, this one is certainly like a bottle of scotch, or a very strong cheese: it’s gorgeous and wonderful and you must take your time – partially so it ends slower and you can savour it, and partially because, despite it being incredible, it can get a little much in large doses. 

This Town Will Never Let Us Go is empirical proof that genre fiction, specifically science fiction in this case, is not inherently inferior to literary fiction. On the contrary, it can be deeper and more intelligent. Sci-fi can say something profound about modern society in a way that, perhaps it can be argued, literary fiction never can. not in this world, this tech-drenched, augmented-reality world.