The Return of the Master

It has been an awfully long time since I frequented this place. I feel like it needs a good dusting off and perhaps hanging out in my non-existent garden for some freshening up (maybe in a virtual garden?)

The lack of posting has not entirely been because of a lack of reading; although, honestly, there has been very little occuring. Since my last post, I've managed to read three novels and one manga volume. Months ago I began, and never finished, a post about Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere, which I read on a trip to Guatemala; just prior to my last post. That trip is a story in and of itself. Unfortunately, time has done its merry thing of moving on, and, with so many other things to focus on, I have truly forgotten much of what I wanted to say about it and those that I've read since.

Furthermore, working on my MSc dissertation did more than erase my free time, it destroyed a lot of energy and motivation. After spending hour after hour, day after day, week after week, locked in my office staring deep into the dead glow of the screen, the separation of myself and my academia, I really did not feel much like spending time writing for fun.

But that's all done now. My MSc is officially over, although I am still awaiting the results of my dissertation (do you get the title now? Now I am a 'Master of Science', rather than just a 'Bachelor'). Now, I spend my days trawling job sites, generally being unemployed, poor, drinking copious amounts of tea and realising I can do all those things I wanted to do over summer and couldn't.

So now I can not only freely read but I also feel no disillusion from sitting at a computer for a little while and tapping away at keys, until something coherent materialises on the screen.

Rather than an in depth review of anything in this post, I thought I'd generally update people as to where I am in the realms of novels.

I feel I ought to give a short summary of those fleeting memories of books now gone. Best to start where I left off, before I start with the present, no?

Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman; I seem to remember this was much more enjoyable than I had expected. It tells the story of Richard, who accidentally falls through our capital city into London Below, a realm with demons and angels, a place stuck neither in the past nor the future, where mysticism runs riot. It felt refreshingly different; it was eccentric and the prose well written. The characters felt real, had dimension and made the story entertaining. I also felt the length was just right; it was short enough to not drag and feel like it was lasting forever, without rushing the pace or failing to explain important plot points in detail. It is a book I would both reread and recommend to anyone who wanted something a little unsual and step away from the cliches and rehashings that litter bookshops. I also read this on Kindle, as it was easier to transport across the Atlantic. On Goodreads I gave this four stars out of five, of a 'I really liked it'.

Dead Run by Erica Spindler; I can't remember a great deal about this, other than it being 'alright for a thriller'. There were themes of occult and Satanism, which other reviews had complained about, but I actually enjoyed as I felt they had been used relatively well in the context of the story. It's a very typical thriller novel set up; Liz (the main female lead) finds her sister missing, presumed dead, so she goes to find her. Cue police being difficult, telling her to go away and generally being all around unhelpful. There's some romance between her and the ex-cop, who is also the only one who'll listen to her, which feels horribly forced and unnatural. They go from being strangers to bed partners (and madly in love, rather than just needed physical comfort) in less than a week, I seem to recall. The police seem wholly inefficient and utterly useless at their jobs until (spoiler) it is revealed they're involved in some conspiracy. This wasn't really much of a twist, but it did make me feel better than the police being complete f*** ups had a reason other than incompetency. I also twigged the killer from the first time we meet them, which is always disappointing with a thriller.

Oh, the characters all had an awful habit of mumbling, even when it was an inappropriate adjective; I swear people were 'mumbling' even when the text suggested yelling. I'd like someone to buy Spindler a thesaurus, pronto, so that characters can have a range of ways of verbally expressing themselves. It was frustrating and made me want to yell at the characters to speak up.

This book was never going to be brilliant, bu then, nor was it the worst thriller I've ever read; it whiled away the time and provided me with something to do when my brain was on the brink of self decimation after too much dissertation. The twists were actually linears, and the characters were predictable and did not feel realistic in many instances. I'm not sure I'd read anything else by Spindler, but as far as throw away, cheap thrillers go? Yeah, I got what I paid for. For what it was, it was entertaining, I enjoyed the occult themes and the setting itself was a nice leap away from the grey monoliths of New York City skyscrapers. It was a good cheap thriller; I didn't expect much from it and, honestly, I delivered. On Goodreads I gave it three out of five stars, which equates to 'I liked it'. I would agree that 6/10 is a fair rating for this novel.

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs; if you have never been disappointed in your life, pick up this book. This is the epitome of dissatisfaction. Looking at the cover, flicking through the beautifully designed pages, this book promises. This is a fictious tale interwoven with genuine photographs from lives long since passed. Visually, this book could easily score an 8/10; its dark and gothic and creepy; its wonderfully presented and invokes the questions what and why. Looking at this book you get shivers up your spine; it feels like wandering into a derelict, abandoned house and stumbling across the weird and bizarre. Visually, this book gives me the same sort of fascination I have with my Mutter Museum photographic book, although with less of a focus medical advances. It shares the same sort of wonderful, unnerving curiosity, where you want to delve further, but cover your eyes at the same time.

And then you actually read the text. The prologue starts fantastically with the perfect blend of action and mystery. And then it tails off. Nothing happens for the first two thirds of the book, other than the character repeating the same questions again and again. Then the last third feels more like it should be the middle of a story, rather than the end; resulting in a rather frutrating cliff hanger. Having already wasted precious time on this novel void of any redeemable plot, I'm not sure I want to waste further time on a sequel, when there are other, much better books to be reading. The entire plot can pretty much be summed up as; Jake (the irritating and uninteresting protagonist) can see 'demons' or whatever you want to call them. His family thinks he's nuts and it all results from the death of his secret harbouring gradfather. He eventually convinces his parents to take him to some tiny island off the coast of Wales where he spends chapter after chapter wondering what secrets his grandfather was hiding and wandering through sheep shit. Eventually he finds a house; this house is populated by children with super powers, caught in a time shift. Turns out those 'demons' are trying to eat the 'peculiars', which makes Jake pretty powerful as he's the only one who can see them. Now they must try and defeat them, only that happens in book two, obviously. The ending is also weird and not it a good way; when Jake makes the decision to sod off with the so called 'peculiar children', he tells his dad, who pretty much shrugs his shoulders and goes back to sleep without giving a toss; this guy also had zero feelings when his dad died at the beginning of the book and, along with his wife, was unsympathic to his son's grief?

Jake's parents are terrible; they seem more interested in their own lives than the metal health of or the support of their son. While I understand some parents are like this, unfortunately it was obvious his parents were written this way just so we, the reader, wouldn't feel too guilty about Jake leaving them at the end. His parents are two dimensional, and serve literally no purpose to the plot other than Jake 'needed' some as he was only fifteen (or how ever old). They're not poor parents, they're poorly written.

Then there's the bizarre romance, that's forced and unnecessary. So Jake meets this fire wielding chick who he gets the hots for. Turns out, she's actually his granddad's ex girlfriend (she's still a child because, you know, time loop), but that's okay. She can't have Abe, so she'll just get fiddly with his grandson instead, a relationship which no one ever questions the ethics or morals of at any point. Not only is the romance a little disturbing, it's horribly shoe horned in (as is most of what happens in this book) because, you know, books need romance.

From the cover I expected this to be an adult book; at the very least young adult. Instead, the prose feels more like it is aimed towards children. I was promised peculiar and instead got distinctly average. The photographs that pepper the text, although fascinating, are actually highly detracting. They are also far too often forced; a character is introduced and invented just so a particular photo can be used and, unfortunately, it shows. This mix of pictoral story telling and prose is far from seamless; it's clunky and badly done. The plot is far too simple to need such intriguing images and the images are far too curious to be lumbered with such abysmally normal prose. I feel like I was promised American McGee's Alice and instead got Tween X-Men. It feels a lot like any plot points or characters that Riggs felt were uninteresting, he put zero effort into, just so as to focus on the 'fun' bits, which, unfortunately, makes it awkward and unispiring to read.

I rated this book two of five stars on Goodreads or, 'it was okay'. At the time I thought the book was neither inherently awful nor great, just sort of 'alright'. Since then, however, I think I've grown a resentment towards the book; towards everything it should have been and really, really wasn't. I'd still say the book is worth a 4/10 though. The idea of taking old photographs and intertwining a fantastical tale is certainly interesting, but in this case was horribly and poorly executed.

I also read Malice in Miniature by Margaret Grace; however, as I only finished this a few days ago, my feelings and thoughts are fresh enough that I feel it can warrent its own post (although I'm not sure the novel itself warrents much of anything). There was also Battle Royale Ultimate Edition Volume 1, which was started after I had finished my MSc; however, as I own all five volumes I feel that it would be beneficial to review them as a set. So these are both posts you can anticipate from me in the future.

So where does that leave me now? Well, a month ago (today, even) it was my birthday, which resulted in a few additions to my 'to read' lists. This included a box set of The Legend of Zelda manga by Akira Himekawa (the first ones were actually badly damaged, so we had to send off for a replacement). I read the two Ocarina of Time manga way back before my GCSE's (nearly ten years now), when the only English translations were unofficial by fans. So I have never read them in physical format, nor the official translations. I have also never read any of the eight other books (all recounting the stories from various different The Legend of Zelda games). It will be fun to return to childhood, and I do look forward to spending a free afternoon or two following Link's many adventures.

Another present that was bequeathed upon me were stunning copies of The Queen of the Tearling and it's sequel, The Invasion of the Tearling, from a wonderful friend of mine. Both hardback and a delight to have on my shelf. I know at least two of my friends have read these books and have had nothing but positive things to say, which makes these books highly anticipated. I finally dug into the first novel last night and so far, have not been disappointed. Although I am only one chapter in, I am pleased to be, after many months, once more reading a novel by someone who can string together intricate and compelling sentences. It has been a while since I read anything that truly captured my attention (it was probably Neverwhere, which was way back in April), so hopefully things from here can be nothing but fantastic.

I am very much relieved to no longer be fighting with myself over university commitments and to actually have the time to endulge in some serious reading for leisure, rather than as a distraction. Based on the books in the near future, I think I'm going to have an enjoyable few months ahead and look forward to sharing them with you.