magickislife's review
4.0
This is a beautifully written re-telling of a beautiful legend. I greatly enjoyed reading it.
twylghast's review
1.0
This started out well enough, vaguely like Mists of Avalon - what novel about King Arthur times and paganism doesn't - until halfway through, where the real pining starts.
Yes, I know this is Tristan and Isolde, so some pining is to be expected. But so shallowly? And what about the egregious spelling horrors that followed? They weren't there at first, of that I'm sure.
Deleted words in the middle of sentences. Weird tenses. Boring pining. Prudish behavior. Random pairing of characters that had nothing to do with each other (namely the couple's BFFs, because Gods forbid they don't fall in love too). Too much talk about blonde hair - given that they're both blonde, naturally.
So much mooning about over each other, especially from Tristan's side...though the supposed intensity fell so flat, I have no idea why they even went through all the trouble of meeting in the so-called ruins. And that scene where they somehow sensed they were being watched by his father? Ridiculous.
It was at the point that I stopped, realising I couldn't stand two hundred more pages of poorly written, poorly spelled, simplistic drivel, which is what this book was.
I despise Marion Zimmer Bradley as much as the next person does, but at least she could write. You'd still be better off with borrowed copies of her books than this.
Yes, I know this is Tristan and Isolde, so some pining is to be expected. But so shallowly? And what about the egregious spelling horrors that followed? They weren't there at first, of that I'm sure.
Deleted words in the middle of sentences. Weird tenses. Boring pining. Prudish behavior. Random pairing of characters that had nothing to do with each other (namely the couple's BFFs, because Gods forbid they don't fall in love too). Too much talk about blonde hair - given that they're both blonde, naturally.
So much mooning about over each other, especially from Tristan's side...though the supposed intensity fell so flat, I have no idea why they even went through all the trouble of meeting in the so-called ruins. And that scene where they somehow sensed they were being watched by his father? Ridiculous.
It was at the point that I stopped, realising I couldn't stand two hundred more pages of poorly written, poorly spelled, simplistic drivel, which is what this book was.
I despise Marion Zimmer Bradley as much as the next person does, but at least she could write. You'd still be better off with borrowed copies of her books than this.
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