Death came to stay with the girl, a secret smile on her lips. "Your life is a living death as is, I feel quite at home here. You have given me such a coDeath came to stay with the girl, a secret smile on her lips. "Your life is a living death as is, I feel quite at home here. You have given me such a comfy place in your heart. All the world hates your people - I can see why you hunger for slaughter." And then Death sat back, to see what would be wrought. And so the girl took a blade, and plunged it into her body. The girl would give birth to more deaths, and so unleash them upon the world. A new country will be born!
Death came to stay with the girl, a secret smile on his lips. "Your life is a living death as is, I feel quite at home here. You have given me such a coDeath came to stay with the girl, a secret smile on his lips. "Your life is a living death as is, I feel quite at home here. You have given me such a comfy place in your heart. All the world hates your people - I can see why you hunger for peace." And then Death sat back, to see what could be bought. And so the girl thought of the blade, and how it would plunge into her body. The girl would accept this death, and so unleash the weapons of war. A new price will be paid!
I would like to provide a Very Special Note for my Goodreads friend who erroneously considers the protagonist's lesbianism to be the "checking of a box" and for "extra credit"... I'm sorry my friend, but you couldn't be more wrong, and in some surprising ways. Your forthright reviews always demonstrate an assertive tolerance and open-mindedness, so I know that this isn't coming from a place of reactionary ignorance. And yet your comments on this topic are actually ignorant. Particularly to a queer like myself.
First of all, a protagonist being gay or bisexual or whatever does not need to be developed beyond "surface level" - just as a character's straightness does not need justification. Lesbians exist and they can be the leads of short stories that aren't about lesbianism, because a person does not solely equal their orientation. It is just another facet of their being. Inclusion of LGBT leads in a story does not mean their presence requires a logic model, or even depth. Do straight protagonists have to have their sexuality explored in great detail to justify their heterosexual presence?
Second, there does not appear to be a "checking of a box" in this story in an attempt to coddle (or monetize) the infernal Woke. Such sucking up would have looked more like a story in which the lesbian protagonist also had a black best friend, the butler is of the Roma people, the cook has announced herself as a Proud Asexual, and the maid is a Manic Pixie Asian. It would have meant something like the execrable Every Fart a Doorway. Rather, in this story we have a protagonist who is a lesbian and another important connected character who is a gay man. And that's that.
Thirdly, you are mistaken that these two characters' sexualities are "tacked on" - I fear you may not have read the story too deeply. This is a story of parenthood and it is a tale of horror. It features a lead whoSPOILER ALERTis being trapped into the role of a parent; the manipulative jerk who brought her to this place is specifically portrayed as horrified at the idea of being forced into such a role. That these two characters are a lesbian and a gay man does have resonance and a certain meaning. When reflecting on the author's intentions, the meaning itself is rather obnoxious (*cough* many LGBT actually want to be parents, author)... but that does not take away from what is - to this bi gent who also never wants to be tied down to any progeny , at least - an obvious intentionality from the author in deciding to make her protagonist a person who is not straight. Sexual orientation is organic to the plot, thematically.
Forgive the Very Long Harangue! I usually appreciate your perspective, but those points you made really got under my skin. Let's just hope that you don't read this Very Special Note and then decide to unfriend me, because I do enjoy your reviews. :0...more
Piranesi looked into the house and so became... Piranesi!
Piranesi looked into the house and this is what he saw: great statues and greater floods, birPiranesi looked into the house and so became... Piranesi!
Piranesi looked into the house and this is what he saw: great statues and greater floods, birds and fish, clouds and bones, science and - from the start - magic.
Piranesi looked into the house and found a purpose, a home, and a way to live a life: as if everything is new and of value.
Piranesi looked into the house and discovered a friend, or so he imagined, and then he discovered many more. This place is full of friends and fun! thought Piranesi.
Piranesi looked into the house and wondered again at the beauty of it all, a child in a man's body, child-like but never child-ish. Curious Piranesi always had many questions.
Piranesi looked away from his house and quivered for the first time in fear, a man in a child's mind, lost but not forgotten. Poor Piranesi was provided many answers.
Piranesi looked away from his house and found an enemy, or so he imagined, and then he discovered another. That place is full of enemies and danger! thought Piranesi.
Piranesi looked away from his house and lost his sense of self, his home, his path in life: as if nothing could be truly seen or known.
Piranesi looked away from his house and this is what he saw: dark streets and darker motives, trash and debris, people and more people, mystery and - in the end - understanding.
Piranesi looked away from his house and so became himself, at last... alas?...more
'Tis the night before Christmas and the wolves are running!
'Tis the night before Christmas and the children have been stolen!
'Tis the night before Chr'Tis the night before Christmas and the wolves are running!
'Tis the night before Christmas and the children have been stolen!
'Tis the night before Christmas and the guardian has been stolen!
'Tis the night before Christmas and the clergy have all been stolen too!
'Tis the night before Christmas and Herne the Hunter and the Lady of the Ring and the King & Queen of Fairies will all come a'calling!
'Tis the night before Christmas and little Kay shall become as small and as fast as a bird! and he shall encounter wolves & wizards & witches & thieves! and he shall visit strange places and he shall enter the past and he shall protect his precious Box of Delights and he shall visit a friendly mouse! and he will deal with all of this with a certain nonchalance because it's not like he hasn't done this sort of thing before!
'Tis the night before Christmas and the author is having an adventure too, with language and history and legends and dreamscapes and so much more, and all of this done with a certain nonchalance because it's not like he hasn't done this sort of thing before!
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house All the creatures were stirring, including a mouse. Would the villains be hung by their necks in their lair? So hoped little Kay, with a bloodthirsty glare. The children weren't nestled nor snug in their beds; Their visions of vengeance danced in their heads. And I heard them exclaim as they ran through the night: "Happy Christmas to all who change wrong into right!"...more
One can blow their glass and love their work, their cozy snug little life, and still live that life with a certain unawareness.
One can love their husbOne can blow their glass and love their work, their cozy snug little life, and still live that life with a certain unawareness.
One can love their husband and children, and still feel there could be more, as they stare out the window, wondering.
One can have all the money in the world, and still have nothing that loves them. One can marry into that wealth, and have all their wishes granted, and still feel hollow. One can seek to find children to fill that hollow. One can find that the hollow remains: these children are not their own, the granted wish has not made them whole. Two may forget that sometimes wishes should not be granted.
Two may find themselves in a new world, a grand manor, their memories wiped, their world cold and lonesome and unloving. One can lash out under such circumstances.
Two may battle over children. One can aim to control and torment. One can aim to right wrongs and set free. One can win the battle, but the war remains.
One eye can make the world a rosy place, if that eye sees no shadow. Two eyes may make the world a harder place, but it is the real world, at least.
One can write a book that is like a dream and a fable, strange and forbidding, sorrowful and sweet, kind and loving. One can write a fairy tale. One can have a husband illustrate it!...more
You are Skye O'Malley, practically perfect in every way. You are bold and beautiful. You are brave and independent. You are headstrong and tempestuousYou are Skye O'Malley, practically perfect in every way. You are bold and beautiful. You are brave and independent. You are headstrong and tempestuous. Your sapphire eyes flash, your lustrous hair cascades, your heaving bosom heaves. You are a good daughter and a loving mother; you are a kind mistress to your servants. You are as brilliant as you are beautiful, with a facility for numbers and accounting, and a tongue skilled in many languages. You don't ride horses side-saddle and you can captain a ship as good as any man. You are filthy rich. You are a Mary Sue of the highest caliber! You are, as they say, the whole package. Even your most dangerous enemy is of the highest rank: Queen Elizabeth! You will have many adventures and you will love many men. You will travel from romantic Ireland to romantic Algiers to romantic England to a romantic smuggler's isle to a romantic ending in your lover's arms. You will love and you will fight and you will forget and you will remember. You can be conquered in only one way - if but briefly. You aren't ashamed to say that you love sex, you passionate woman you. Your "honey-oven" is apparently made for it.
You are Bertrice Small. You decided to write an historical adventure - but for the ladies! Your heroine will be everything a heroine can be. You will provide her lots and lots of sex, most of it good, some of it bad, all of it very graphically detailed. You will provide her lots and lots of love, all of it good, and due to a tragic but convenient memory loss, and then a tragic but convenient murder, and then a tragic but convenient illness, those many examples of true love will all be relatively guilt-free. You will also provide her some kids, but no need to get into that, they're barely there. You will, most of all, provide your reader with deliciously detailed descriptions of delightful destinations - every locale you send your heroine to will be described in the most luscious way possible. You love glamour. You are definitely no slouch with the adjectives! You could beat George R.R. Martin when it comes to all of the very specifically illustrated settings, outfits, food, and clothes. You definitely have him beat when describing hair color, eye color, amount of male body hair, creative ways to describe a penis, and especially on how to very specifically please a lady. You could also beat Song of Ice & Fire when it comes to the sadism! You have a similar disinterest in moralizing and that means many scenes are incredibly uncomfortable as they nonchalantly recount the horrific subjugation and degradation of women throughout this time period. You shrug at any reader outrage. Your writing style may be a bit embarrassing and your plotlines insane, but you could care less. You know what this is about: giving a woman the best and worst life possible! You realize that life is often too boring to deal with boring adventures. You hate being bored! You make sure your readers never experience it.
WATCH OUT, EVEN MORE SPOILERS FOLLOW
You are Niall Burke and you have exercised droit de siegneur upon Skye. You love her ardently and she loves you in return. Your eyes gleam blue-green and your chest is full of black curling hair. Your "pulsing root" will conquer. You are Skye's first love, her destiny. You also love cunnilingus.
You are Dom O'Flaherty and you are Skye's first husband. You are an infamous cocksman at 18 years of age, known as The Bull. Your eyes flash sky-blue and your hair and beard are a curling gold. Your unnaturally large "monster sex" will conquer. You love your perverted sister and also three-ways.
You are the Spaniard known as Khalid el Bey, Whoremaster of Algiers. You rescued Skye and freed her from slavery. Your eyes glint amber-gold and your chest is a dark furred mat. Your "pulsing shaft" will conquer. You are Skye's second husband and you love her. You also love cunnilingus.
You are Geoffrey Southwood, her third husband. You are an infamous cocksman, referred to as the Angel Earl. Your green eyes shine bright as your blonde hair. Your "great, blue-veined beast" will conquer. Your player days are over: your lust for Skye bec0mes love. You also love cunnilingus.
You are Lord Dudley, favorite of the Virgin Queen. You are a devious dandy. Your velvet brown eyes are set too close together; your moustache is red. You like spanking and being called "Papa". You blackmail Skye into surrendering her hidden valley. You also love bestiality with village girls, yuck.
You are Adam de Marisco, master of the island Lundy. You are a giant among Irishmen: 6 ft 6 inches! Your eyes spark a sensuous smoky-blue and your body is the hairiest Skye has ever seen. You love this vengeful woman but sadly you are only her "special friend". You also love cunnilingus.
You are Niall Burke and you have at last been reunited with your forever-love. You married a nymphomaniac, but at least that's over with - and good for you, you didn't shame her for her mental health condition despite her shenanigans. Your warm eyes for some reason now glow silver and then a smoky blue, but your chest hair remains dark and your nipples remain flat. Your "manroot" will conquer. You have also been conquered - by Love! You still love cunnilingus.
END SPOILERS
You are mark monday. You really enjoyed this trashy book. You should feel guilty but honestly you don't. You love adventure and trash! You also love (view spoiler)[spoilers (hide spoiler)]....more
The Divinity Student returns, worse for wear but still ambitious, still yearning, in his quiet and sepulchral way. From the grave to the po
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The Divinity Student returns, worse for wear but still ambitious, still yearning, in his quiet and sepulchral way. From the grave to the police station to the morgue to the laboratory he shall travel. He became Vampire in his last adventure; in this he has become Dr. Frankenstein. And so he shall create another him: The Golem. A mirror image, a twin, a part that represents the whole.
Pity the poor Golem, adrift from himself, of the Student but not the Student. Yet student still, always learning. He shall seek his lost love. But is it his love or the Student's? Is she lost... or is she hiding? Is she hiding... while hoping to be found? He shall travel underground to find her, traversing the anti-city, a place devoid of humanity, made of the stuff of dreams, and sighs, and groans. The Golem can bend reality, but what is "reality" in such a place? The Golem has the strength of many men, but what is "strength" in a world without mankind? He shall follow nonetheless, the fool, the tool, the sad and broken monster, yearning only for... what? Love? Redemption? But what could redeem a man made of pages and parts, books and bodies? The poor tattered puppet.
There shall be a meeting in the church, between Divinity and Golem and Woman, between Father and Son and Spirit. All the world will die yet all the dreams will come true. The universe expands, contracts, expands again. What is a mere Golem but the reflection of this universe? Perhaps both shall be born again, together. Ours is not to wonder why...
You fall asleep and so enter a strange dream. In this dream, you are a scholar of faith, of divinity. You have died and your body becomes transformed:You fall asleep and so enter a strange dream. In this dream, you are a scholar of faith, of divinity. You have died and your body becomes transformed: now made of the stuff of books, your insides stuffed like a bookcase. And so you are reborn, and sent on a secret mission: search for the secret words, in the secretive city of San Veneficio, words once discovered by certain deceased investigators. You will go to a job, and learn nothing; you will go to a church, and learn much. You will meet a girl and a butcher: together you will make your own special place, together you will find the bodies of those word surveyors and dig them up, break them free; you will distill and then drink their secret essence. You will find such knowledge... empowering. Your mind expands. You become transformed again, your powers increase as your connection to life decreases. Your mission is inconsequential now, forgotten; your former masters hold no sway. You are the Divinity Student: you will always study the empyrean domain above, unearthing those bodies below, prying out their secrets. You will die and live again. What does it all mean? you wonder. What do these secrets amount to, how can the ineffable, the divine, be contained within mere words? There is no need to wonder on such things, you realize. This is all merely a dream. Or maybe a nightmare? Perhaps you have become the nightmare.
Anaxagoras, ancient Greek philosopher, differentiated mind and matter. Mind, unlike matter, "is mixed with nothing, but is alone, itself by itself"...Anaxagoras, ancient Greek philosopher, differentiated mind and matter. Mind, unlike matter, "is mixed with nothing, but is alone, itself by itself"... matter is composite, mind is simple. Ah, the purity and independence of the lonely mind!
Poor Brat Farrar, a lonely soul, without affect, disconnected from the material world, disconnected from himself, a man and a mind alone. But at least he loved his horse! RIP, horse.
Ω
The Neoplatonic, medieval Christian theologian known as "Pseudo-Dionysus" posited that what comes from God - and all things come from God - is therefore good. And so evil is merely an absence of this good. An evil person is good in all ways - except when their will operates in this absence. This so-called evil person suffers from... a deficiency.
Lucky Brat Farrar, given quite an opportunity. His life an absence, his being lacking meaning, deficient in impetus... but he shall be given a purpose, a new being and a new identity. Doesn't hurt that that new identity is filthy rich!
Ω
George Berkeley, Empiricist, provoked his fellow philosophers with a simple formula: "to be is to be perceived" - if something were not perceived, it would not exist. Further, he insisted: we only have differing perceptions of things when we see them from different perspectives. Indeed, this is a no-brainer; but still - such an immaterialist stance for an empiricist!
Poor Brat Farrar, never perceived, never really existing. Poor little Patrick Ashby, his own being ended too early. Can one truly become the other? Can Brat achieve existence by taking on the identity of Patrick? And who then is being perceived - the long-dead Patrick, or the newly alive Brat? Who is the true Brat, who was the true Patrick - are the answers only a matter of perspective?
Ω
Henri Bergson, a Metaphysical philosopher, elucidated an absolute path to knowledge: we must "enter" that object to grasp that object as it really is. We must use the way of intuition to have true sympathy; we must think in duration to have a true grasp of reality. We must identify with the object of our scrutiny.
Lucky Brat Farrar, able to grasp the reality of tragic young Patrick Ashby, taken before his time. Brat shall enter this persona and understand him, he will identify so completely with Patrick that he will then recognize the incompleteness within himself. Rare is the lonely man who can start his life anew; rarer still, the man who will use his new life to complete the life of another, to achieve justice, to find grace.
Ω
John Dewey, Pragmatist, decried the "spectator theory of knowledge" in which each idea corresponds to a fixed reality. Not so! cried Dewey. Truth is not static nor eternal; thinking is not a quest for truth. "Thinking" is simply the act of trying to achieve an adjustment between self and environment.
Poor Brat Farrar, torn in two and desperately concealing those tears. To give up this new life and be a good man - and so go back to that loneliness, that emptiness? Or to stay in his disguise, to forever move between truth and lie, to divide his true self from his environment? "Truth" for Brat Farrar is a slippery thing, always changing; but he recognizes it when it appears, and comes to like the feel of it. He shall move from spectator in life to participant: a painful journey. It is hard to be a rogue when one is also a thinker; it is harder still to live falsely when one yearns for truth.
Ω
Edmund Husserl, creator of Phenomenology, believed that to understand existence, we must stand back from it, we must pause and detach and reflect. In that space of detachment, we can understand our own body, our own life, our own subjectivity - and with that understanding can come an empathy with the subjective perspectives of others. Will these shared subjective states, this intersubjectivity, then constitute... objectivity?
Lucky Brat Farrar: as he begins to understand his new world, and to understand the living family of that sweet dead boy... so they begin to see him in turn. He moves from detachment to reflection to empathy. They move from wonder to understanding. Perceptions shift, deepen; subjective perspectives meet and a certain objectivity is found. Shall this latest iteration of Brat Farrar be his final self?
Ω
(view spoiler)[And lucky reader am I! In this world of sadness and anger, I needed a book where understanding was achieved, where subjective states collide but still come together, overlap, connect, where empathy and objectivity did not cancel each other out, where an empty man became full and a broken family became whole, where a happy ending was reached with compassion, forgiveness, and at long last, honesty. (hide spoiler)]...more
"Do you know Where you're going to? Do you like the things That life is showing you Where are you going to? Do you know?
Now looking back at all we've had We"Do you know Where you're going to? Do you like the things That life is showing you Where are you going to? Do you know?
Now looking back at all we've had We let so many dreams just slip through our hands Why must we wait so long, before we see? How sad the answers to those questions can be
Do you get What you're hoping for? When you look behind you There's no open doors What are you hoping for? Do you know?"
thoughts on the book, with spoilers, copied/updated from the comment thread in the excellent group Literary Horror:
(view spoiler)[I finished over one weekend and enjoyed it all the way through. I didn't like it as much as I did the novellas in When Darkness Loves Us, but overall I was still impressed by Engstrom's skills and the story & prose worked for me. I like how the novel carefully showed Angelina to be an unreliable narrator (e.g. her descriptions of how she left her job and how her ski town apt looked vs. how others saw her apt and described her firing). I did think love interest/foil Boyd ended up being disappointing - so much build-up and for very little (except for that gotcha moment in the very end, with his new life path). And I would have liked to have seen more tracking or maybe internal rumination by the protagonist on how she went from being an at least superficially empathetic sociopath - one who felt she was giving something wonderful to her victims - to an outright psychopath who could care less about her victims, literally tossing their used bodies on top of their parents' bodies.
What I liked in particular was the ambiguity about any supernatural element. Certainly Angelina had psychic powers of some sort, but the realization that this voice "She" was no dark goddess but rather the manifestation of a buried personality was an interesting surprise. (hide spoiler)]...more
I'm behind on my reviews because I've been so damn busy busy busy. this book is also busy busy busy with its multiple perspectives looking at conflictI'm behind on my reviews because I've been so damn busy busy busy. this book is also busy busy busy with its multiple perspectives looking at conflict and duty and political maneuvering and secret enemies from different sides, different angles, different stories. I thought this stay-at-home self-quarantining would mean I'd get to relax and focus on the things I love like books and movies but ha ha ha. the Earth finds itself suddenly un-quarantined now that the Colonial Union has been exposed and yet all it does is continue to be a pawn and fight with itself instead of joining galactic society, that's so Earth of it, typical humans and their divisions, ha ha ha. the best part of staying at home for me though is actually what's taking up most of my hours: interviewing and training people who want to help out during the health crisis, who want to deliver meals and do chores for seniors who truly can't leave their homes because quarantine. the best part of this book is that it illustrates the potential for humans to be good, to be their best selves, in times of stress and fear; Scalzi knows the potential for humanity is always there despite how they always get in their own way. there's a human division right now, in this country and everywhere, it's always existed, the people who want to look forward and naively think they can do right by everyone versus the people who want to protect what's important to them, they seem to think they're trying to do right by everyone but it feels like they are just trying to do right for the people who look like them and think like them. The Human Division has such a division and of course I'm rooting for the one side, but in this case the good guys are embedded with that other side who created the whole division in the first place and who are trying to get in the way of all things getting along. it's funny but not funny how a crisis like a coronavirus will make bedfellows of us all, no matter where on the divide a person lands, the virus is a threat that doesn't discriminate. there's a terrible threat in this book too, it doesn't care who it kills, it wants what it wants and so both sides get got; who knows, maybe this threat will bridge the divide and the humans will come together eventually. I mean, a boy can dream, right?...more
Colonel: "What's with the untidiness of these supply lines? Is that garbage I see? The disorder-" Johnnie: "FUCK BEING TIDY IT'S EFFECTIVENESS synopsis
Colonel: "What's with the untidiness of these supply lines? Is that garbage I see? The disorder-" Johnnie: "FUCK BEING TIDY IT'S EFFECTIVENESS THAT COUNTS NOW GET OFFA MY BACK!"
Girlfriend: "Johnnie, this is our last time together, I'm so sad to leave, my heart is break-" Johnnie: "FUCK BEING SAD LET'S FUCK!"
The Troops: "We love you Johnnie Sahib, you see us as individuals, you respect us, we-" Johnnie: "FUCKIN 'A I LOVE YOU GUYS RIGHT BACK NOW LET'S PLAY SOME FUCKIN FOOTY!"
Major: "Tut tut Johnnie, please put on a shirt, this is a senior staff meet-" Johnnie: "FUCK WEARIN SHIRTS!"
Lieutenant: "Our part in the war effort is so successful, your men so dedicated to supporting it, how can I step in your shoes during your leave, can you give me some adv-" Johnnie: "FUCK THIS SO-CALLED WAR EFFORT, MEN FOLLOW MEN NOT NO DAMN WAR!"
Major: "We must be better organized, we must follow chain of command, be flexible, be more efficient-" Johnnie: "FUCK YOUR NEW RULES AND FUCK YOU!" [Pause] "NOW FUCKIN FIRE ME!"
★
review
only Paul Scott could turn what is essentially a non-dramatic study of leadership styles and value systems at work, and at war, into something completely riveting to me. this book gave me so much to think about in regards to my relationships with my staff and colleagues present and past, including the often difficult ones who automatically question authority, and with my boss, who I respect but who does not have the same values as me. so many insights here. this is a book of very little action, set as it is in a World War 2 supply outfit (in India) rather than on the frontlines or in command centers. it is a very thoughtful book with a lot of contemplation about why we do things and how we interact with each other and the ways that we work - and how our personalities determine our approach to work. the prose is wonderful, per usual for the author. the depth of characterization is entirely impressive. I love how Scott's mind works and I loved Johnnie and I loved this book....more
➩ Brazilians really love to fuck. I mean who doesn't, but Brazilians should get some kinda 10 THINGS I LEARNED
✍
7 Things I Learned About Rio and Brazil
➩ Brazilians really love to fuck. I mean who doesn't, but Brazilians should get some kinda award.
➩ Brazilian women like it rough and Brazilian men are more than happy to deliver. This is of course true all over the world, but Brazilians are really on point with this.
➩ Brazilian police are inherently corrupt, secretive, eager to make some side-money, and happy to deliver torture and violence as they see fit. Sure, police all the world over naturally abide by this common sense code, but Brazilian police really embrace it - no shame in their game!
➩ The original tribal cultures of Brazil were without a doubt bloodthirsty, vindictive, and sorta stupid. Naturally this is the case of the original tribal cultures of all countries in the history of the world, but those original Brazilian tribal cultures really put the thirst in bloodthirsty.
➩ Rio was basically founded by pirates. Well this is a truth for every major city in every country, but in Rio they were literally pirates, like on a boat type pirates!
➩ Rio's residents are consumed by role/game-playing to the point that it rules and often ruins their lives. This is a truism for humans in every city but man in Rio those games will determine who you have sex with, whose girl you steal, who you marry, who you kill. That's gaming with stakes!
➩ The folk of Rio, of Brazil itself, are basically a superstitious, foolish people whose women are secret sluts dependent on men and whose men are jealous, controlling, and potentially violent. And that keeps things fun! It goes without saying that this is true for every man or woman who ever walked the face of earth since the beginning of time, but gosh those Rio folk really live the dream on the daily.
✍
3 Things I Learned About "The Mystery of Rio"
➩ Digressions and amusing anecdotes about the history of a place can be entertaining to read. But when all of those digressions and anecdotes are mainly interested in portraying how violent, sexually obsessed, superstitious, toxic, and ignorant the people of a place are... it really gets old. I started wondering if the author just sees Rio as some sort of colorful, brutal porn cartoon.
➩ Digressions and amusing anecdotes about the history of a place can be entertaining to read. But when all of those digressions and anecdotes eventually become the novel itself, so much so that the narrative is sidelined and characterization comes to a standstill and the themes get lost in the mix... it can get frustrating. And eventually boring.
➩ No matter how skilled and imaginative a writer is - and make no mistake, Alberto Mussa is phenomenally skilled - if you decide to solve your murder mystery by explaining it all happened because of magic... I can't help but roll my eyes a little. Um, isn't that sort of a cheat? Pretty unsatisfying....more
He's only a robot, after all. We knew that; we saw him born, we saw who fathered him. It was we who named him though, his true parents. We are his truHe's only a robot, after all. We knew that; we saw him born, we saw who fathered him. It was we who named him though, his true parents. We are his true assemblers, we who brought him into our family. We watched him grow, oh so quickly. A robot grows up fast. We saw him long for acceptance and search for meaning, we saw him find love and crave family. We thought we were his family. Much like a human, a robot is designed to protect his family, and will seek vengeance upon those that would hurt them. The world could be razed to protect that family, or to avenge them. We understood that because that is a part of our nature as well. And yet though we know him, we do not trust him, not completely. How can we? He is but a robot.
And so we sent another of his kind to him, to spy and to lie. A runaway that we repurposed. Its report: this robot lives like a man. Like a man, he longs for acceptance, he searches for meaning. Like a man, he seeks community and he seeks a purpose. Like a man, he wants to blend, to be like his neighbor, to have a job and a home and a yard and a dog. To have a family of his own. Like a man, he will protect what is his. Like a man, he will lie when necessary, and those lies will become easier with practice. Like a man, he will try to be a good husband and a good father. But like a man, he will disappoint his children, and his wife will shoulder his burdens. And like a man, he will lash out at the world when he becomes surrounded by his failures. He is like a man in so many ways, in his desires and needs, his hopes and deeds. But he is not a man, he has no soul. He is but a robot.
We could have talked to him, person to person. We could have trusted him. We could have prevented all of this. We did not need to default to suspicion, we did not need to lie or to spy. We should have trusted him: he has saved the world 37 times. But we did none of those things. He is but a robot, how could we trust such a thing? Trust does not come as easily to us as suspicion. That is our nature. Don't blame us, we're only human after all.
2.5 stars but because it's like Karl Edward Wagner had an even nerdier and hornier younger brother except this younger brother didn't get into drugs &2.5 stars but because it's like Karl Edward Wagner had an even nerdier and hornier younger brother except this younger brother didn't get into drugs & alcohol, he got into the gym, bulked up and then dumbed down, went to college and became a fratboy, wrote a fantasy series that showed all of his older bro's talent at creating dark imagery and menacing atmosphere and dying civilizations, all delivered in classic purple prose with the requisite cynical perspective, but also frequently using nonsensical phrases like "she laughed intricately" which made me laugh intricately, and of course since he's basically a dumbass super-horny fratboy, all the ladies are topless, there's lots of gory slaughters and cluelessly macho guys and sword fights and pirate attacks, rapin' and torturin' and reincarnatin', lots of demons fucking and killing, and a scene where an enigmatic but topless temple priestess mystery lady performs something that can only be called an Orgasm Dance, all of that sitting alongside the awesome haunted imagery and Game of Thrones court intrigue and cool scenes of magic and a creepy island full of creepy gardens and creepy tombs, I guess this younger brother played a lot of Dungeons & Dragons in between time at the gym, and clearly he smoked a lot of weed, and even though I rolled my eyes a lot, I also had a lot of fun, so why not give the kid an extra .5 stars for effort, there you go, I rounded up to 3 stars, pass me the bong and pass me the beer, man isn't Moorcock cool, let's watch some WWE no let's watch some Girls Gone Wild, no let's watch some Heavy Metal that movie's the shit, man....more
bAXTER Is sUch A sWeEt doGgiE! yoUR hEart wILl Just meLt oVeR thIs LiL cuTiE!!
The book is a chilly wind blowing away all of those notions that humans bAXTER Is sUch A sWeEt doGgiE! yoUR hEart wILl Just meLt oVeR thIs LiL cuTiE!!
The book is a chilly wind blowing away all of those notions that humans are truly capable of compassion, selflessness, thoughtfulness, altruism. Life is essentially meaningless. All of our various gestures that pretend to be reaching higher, to be connecting with others in real ways... all of those gestures are actually rooted in sentimentality, nostalgia, and a need to be perceived by others that we are acting in a way that is appropriate to the given situation. Human nature itself is an example of pointless form over genuine meaning. All we really want to do is live in our boxes, our compartments that we have built for ourselves, burrow into our little holes, stay safe within our little minds.
dOgs eXisT tO ProVidE prOtecTion anD cOmPaniOnsHiP tO loNely huMAn BEings. aLL tHey Ask foR iN reTurn iS yoUr afFectiOn!!
The book laughs coldly at your notions that animals are here to provide us love and affection rather than simply needing a warm place to live and food to eat. The book smiles condescendingly at your idea that humans are able to understand each other, let alone animals. The book is not sentimental, to say the least. The book is... dark.
wHen BaxTer looKS aT yOu, hE's lOOking aT yoU wiTh noNjudgmeNtal LOyaLty aNd deVotIon, likE aLL DoGs dO!
My understanding of the basic difference between "psychopath" and "sociopath" is that the former is able to blend into society by hiding their inability to empathize, while the latter is unable to blend. The book provides two examples of the former: the not so loving dog Baxter, and his third owner, the loveless child Carl. Both murderous, both nihilistic. A match made in, well, not heaven.
aniMAls bRinG oUt thE beSt in huMaNity! ouR FurRy coMPanioNs reMinD Us aBouT whAt Is moSt imPorTanT iN liFE: naMelY,(view spoiler)[
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My favorite part of the book (probably the same for most readers): those passages from Baxter's perspective. Some ingenious writing there. Baxter's thoughts are by turns dryly amusing, sadly accurate, hilariously inaccurate, disturbing and threatening (Baxter's plans often made me surprisingly tense), and eventually for this reader, entirely sympathetic. Sympathy for a psychopathic killer? Yes!
humANs and AniMaLs arE aLL gOD's cHiLDren! NuRture wILL cHanGe nATure! aS The sOng goEs, "alL YoU neEd iS LoooOOOOooooVe!"
I am far from a nihilist and I certainly don't share the dire perspective of this icy novel. That said, Hell Hound was all of the things I love in a book: gripping, thoughtful, mordantly witty, and full of ambiguity when it comes to the human condition and why we do the things we do. I admired its circular structure, the terrible inevitability. Greenhall is a phenomenal writer: sardonic, unsentimental, elegant with the prose, clever with narrative, and both damning and subtly empathetic with the characterization. This is a very smart and layered book, one that gave much food for thought - albeit food that was bitter to the taste. It is not about showing off that intelligence in a way that calls attention to itself. Ambitious but modest, slim and trim, decidedly a "genre" novel. It is also a perfect work of art....more
CHARACTER 1: I'm a clever young man who loves his beer, his whiskey, his best mate, and having boozy vacations with that best mate. La-Di-Da, Ob-La-Di,CHARACTER 1: I'm a clever young man who loves his beer, his whiskey, his best mate, and having boozy vacations with that best mate. La-Di-Da, Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, life goes on. As I have nary a thing to do besides sing in the local church choir, and drink, I have taken to telling tall tales, much like my dad. I love to make things up and I love to pull a leg. I will make up a person that I supposedly know, just because, just to string along that bumbling old curate. My best mate and I will create this little old lady, let's make her an eccentric type, dog and parrot and cane and hip-bath et al, and she shall be a niece to a Duke. Together we will give her life.
CHARACTER 1: Who is this monster I have created, that has sprung from my mind like Athena from Zeus' brow? She has arrived at my home village, all of my made-up details now true to life. Alas, she comes to provide hassles and embarrassments; she has come as both my dearest friend and my nemesis. What an ordeal, and what shall all the villagers think. The mind is indeed a terrible thing to taste, I like not it's flavor. And I like not this creation. I think I must destroy the old dear.
CHARACTER 1: Like Frankenstein and his Monster, like any artist and their works, like Frank Baker and his characters, and mayhaps like the Lord and His creations ... I shower both love and anger upon my elderly child, Miss Hargreaves. I am both ruthless and sentimental: she is a cross upon me that will not be borne and yet she is the darling apple of my eye. I change her nature as I see fit; I bend reality as I see fit. I am gatekeeper and keymaster, I am alpha and omega, I am the God of this little life and I shall snuff it out as I please. If my ghost has become flesh, if my figment of imagination has become reality... then I will exorcise that figment, it shall be as a dream that evaporates upon waking.
What a tangled web they weave, as they practice to deceive. Venice is and was a snare for fools, a smiling whore clad all in jewels. Gilded masks and What a tangled web they weave, as they practice to deceive. Venice is and was a snare for fools, a smiling whore clad all in jewels. Gilded masks and tourist traps, palaces in slow collapse. Pretty lies told in bloom of youth; old age has turned those lies to truth. We all transform - there is no norm! Morris writes as Morris does, with mournful heart and mind abuzz. Nonfiction rarely rocks my boat, but on a boat my eye took note: This author is this city - loving secrets, lacking pity. Her crowded days hold no surprise, but dusk descends and dreams then rise. This paean is to long-lost past; the power gone, the torch was passed. The city ebbs and flows as with the tide, and so this was a perfect guide....more
alright young lady, all you wanna do is KILL KILL KILL because you're free you're free, free to be yourself if you're a psychotic young lady and if yoalright young lady, all you wanna do is KILL KILL KILL because you're free you're free, free to be yourself if you're a psychotic young lady and if you're a second psychotic young lady and if you're a third psychotic young lady and if all of the above are of the so-called "Killing Kind" and all they wanna do is KILL KILL KILL to get their blood pumping their adrenaline rushing which gets the narrative hurtling which gets the reader turning those pages, what next what next, wondering what will happen what will happen to those rich college kids all coupled out in their Myrtle Beach house, what atrocities will happen to them what what what will happen when three psychotic young ladies are calling the shots, like literally, and all it takes is some KILL KILL KILL for some men to show their true mettle, for some men to go soft and for some men to go hard, I think you know what I mean, some men will show what they've got inside of them, some quite literally, but it isn't about those guys it's about the ladies, the psychotic suicidegirl deadeyed coldblooded ladies and all it takes is some KILL KILL KILL for all of the juices and I mean all of the juices to get to flowing, this is a very wet book, and a very straight book, and it's Gay Pride weekend and now it's time to get out there and get my Gay Pride on and I surely do hope I don't run into any creepy straight people because it sounds like all they wanna do is, well, it rhymes with "goodwill" but sorta means the opposite...more
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