regencyfan93's review
5.0
Where to begin? I read this book after reading King Perry. Part of the reason I liked it better is that I knew what to expect of a King Weekend. With King Perry I was confused.
The mentions of CompuServe and AOL tickled me, as I remember the differences between those systems and the importance of special interest groups to those systems.
I was weeping on the bus home as I read the epilogue. What a way to honor Vin! It is probably significant that it occurred 13 years after the main story. I'll have to read more King books to find out.
This isn't a romance, though there is love between people - parents and child, friends, sex partners, brothers.
The mentions of CompuServe and AOL tickled me, as I remember the differences between those systems and the importance of special interest groups to those systems.
I was weeping on the bus home as I read the epilogue. What a way to honor Vin! It is probably significant that it occurred 13 years after the main story. I'll have to read more King books to find out.
This isn't a romance, though there is love between people - parents and child, friends, sex partners, brothers.
kaje_harper's review
5.0
King Mai is a wonderful book, in quite a different way from [b:King Perry|13459864|King Perry|Edmond Manning|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1328755934s/13459864.jpg|18990245], the book that comes before it. It took me about two chapters to realize what a good thing that is.
King Perry is not a story that could be told over and over. For all the title, King Perry is really not about Perry, but about Vin Vanbly, the narrator. Even though it's told from Vin's POV, it's cagey, slowly revealing Vin in increments. King Perry is a magic show, sucker-punching the laughs out of the reader in bursts of incredulous absurdity. It is also lovely and full of wonder, but the heart of King Perry is the growing discovery of who and what Vin is. That discovery is far from complete by the end of Book 1, but there is enough lifting of the curtain to give you a feel for the magician. Some of Vin's methods and his history become known by the time that shifting kaleidescope of a book is done.
So when King Mai opens, there is a moment of almost disappointment. The reader knows too much about Vin to experience that same wonder. Of course he has that prepared, and no wonder there are water bottles there. That's how Vin operates. It's cool, but, like watching a magic show after the tricks have been explained, that sense of startled wonder is gone.
It took me a few pages to realize that I was simply experiencing this book differently, more deeply and emotionally. That doesn't mean there aren't surprises, and humor. I laughed out loud over and over. But it was a warmer softer laughter, and at the same time, I cared more. Both about Vin and about Mai.
In King Perry, I liked Perry, but I didn't care deeply about him. And while I was fascinated by Vin, getting to know him, and therefore to become invested in him, was slow. My response to Vin was constantly revised and derailed by the shifts and plot-twists, as he changed form and intention based on the clues at hand. By the end of King Perry, I wished Perry well, but didn't have a burning desire to know what became of him. And I had just come to some kind of stable picture of Vin, and to feel some of his depth. The book was a tour-de-force of the mind and the senses, but not yet of the heart.
In this second book, I came fairly quickly to care about Mai. There was a vulnerable strength to this Midwestern farmer that was palpable, and admirable. I cared about his threatened farm, and his lost first love, and all the things that hurt him. And because I had already decided that Vin is a complicated man, with a wealth of personal pain and history underneath the choices he makes, I cared about him too. So this book was more like watching a painting, rather than a magic show. There were lovely colors, and tender brush-strokes. I didn't know what the end product would be, but I trusted the artist and was fascinated by the process. For this book, I did really care what became of Mai down the road, and loved the little epilogue at the end. Just perfect.
This is still not a gay romance. This is one more saga in the story of Vin Vanbly, enigma, magician, lost child and brilliant manipulator, as he makes his way through the world. He affects other lives, while looking for the truths that will impact his own. There is a happy ending again, but not a HEA or even an HFN. But it's a journey well worth making, and I trust this writer to bring us home safely in the end... by book 6. Ah, hell, four more years?? Well, it will be worth the wait, and the journey along the way promises to be spectacular.
Highly recommended, but read Book 1, King Perry, first. (Chronologically, this book happens to be set earlier in time, but it absolutely is second in the sequence, and there is no flash-back feel to it.)
I received a free advance copy of this from the author - it was unconditional, but how could I resist writing a review?
King Perry is not a story that could be told over and over. For all the title, King Perry is really not about Perry, but about Vin Vanbly, the narrator. Even though it's told from Vin's POV, it's cagey, slowly revealing Vin in increments. King Perry is a magic show, sucker-punching the laughs out of the reader in bursts of incredulous absurdity. It is also lovely and full of wonder, but the heart of King Perry is the growing discovery of who and what Vin is. That discovery is far from complete by the end of Book 1, but there is enough lifting of the curtain to give you a feel for the magician. Some of Vin's methods and his history become known by the time that shifting kaleidescope of a book is done.
So when King Mai opens, there is a moment of almost disappointment. The reader knows too much about Vin to experience that same wonder. Of course he has that prepared, and no wonder there are water bottles there. That's how Vin operates. It's cool, but, like watching a magic show after the tricks have been explained, that sense of startled wonder is gone.
It took me a few pages to realize that I was simply experiencing this book differently, more deeply and emotionally. That doesn't mean there aren't surprises, and humor. I laughed out loud over and over. But it was a warmer softer laughter, and at the same time, I cared more. Both about Vin and about Mai.
In King Perry, I liked Perry, but I didn't care deeply about him. And while I was fascinated by Vin, getting to know him, and therefore to become invested in him, was slow. My response to Vin was constantly revised and derailed by the shifts and plot-twists, as he changed form and intention based on the clues at hand. By the end of King Perry, I wished Perry well, but didn't have a burning desire to know what became of him. And I had just come to some kind of stable picture of Vin, and to feel some of his depth. The book was a tour-de-force of the mind and the senses, but not yet of the heart.
In this second book, I came fairly quickly to care about Mai. There was a vulnerable strength to this Midwestern farmer that was palpable, and admirable. I cared about his threatened farm, and his lost first love, and all the things that hurt him. And because I had already decided that Vin is a complicated man, with a wealth of personal pain and history underneath the choices he makes, I cared about him too. So this book was more like watching a painting, rather than a magic show. There were lovely colors, and tender brush-strokes. I didn't know what the end product would be, but I trusted the artist and was fascinated by the process. For this book, I did really care what became of Mai down the road, and loved the little epilogue at the end. Just perfect.
This is still not a gay romance. This is one more saga in the story of Vin Vanbly, enigma, magician, lost child and brilliant manipulator, as he makes his way through the world. He affects other lives, while looking for the truths that will impact his own. There is a happy ending again, but not a HEA or even an HFN. But it's a journey well worth making, and I trust this writer to bring us home safely in the end... by book 6. Ah, hell, four more years?? Well, it will be worth the wait, and the journey along the way promises to be spectacular.
Highly recommended, but read Book 1, King Perry, first. (Chronologically, this book happens to be set earlier in time, but it absolutely is second in the sequence, and there is no flash-back feel to it.)
I received a free advance copy of this from the author - it was unconditional, but how could I resist writing a review?
the_novel_approach's review
5.0
He is the manipulator and the instigator; he is the King of Evasion; he is the King of Subterfuge, the King of Truth and the King of Fabrication. He is pain and he is pleasure. He is the King of Destiny, the Director King. He is the algorithm and the fulcrum. He is the enigma. He is the Destroyer King and the Restorer King. He is the Weaver King who knits the threads of the Lost Kings into the intricate tapestry of the Found. He is the King of the Lost waiting to be discovered. He is the outsider. He is the Human Ghost who sacrifices for the sake of loving with all his love. He is the King of Provocation. He is the paradox.
This is only part of what Lisa had to say about this book. To see the full review click the link and check it out over at The Novel Approach
http://thenovelapproachreviews.com/2013/07/15/edmond-mannings-king-mai-lost-founds-2-in-which-mai-kearns-gets-curiouser-and-curiouser/
This is only part of what Lisa had to say about this book. To see the full review click the link and check it out over at The Novel Approach
http://thenovelapproachreviews.com/2013/07/15/edmond-mannings-king-mai-lost-founds-2-in-which-mai-kearns-gets-curiouser-and-curiouser/
poultrymunitions's review
4.0
MANNING 1, GENAO 0, OT FINAL.
I held it together all the way through.
i got this.
All. The way. Through.
i got this—
Until the pictures on the pump.
—shit.
Pain and pleasure at once—grief and joy—and isn't that always how it is, anyway?
not this again.
I put the book down.
just breathe, dude—it'll pass.
Not too bad, this time. With the blubbering.
thaaaaat's it—just like that—keep breathing.
It was like lightning: there... and then not.
i bet chris pine doesn't cry over heartwarming crap like this.
I recovered quickly.
mmm. chris pine.
Renewed, I took up this book once more.
not today, manning.
A sense of triumph mounted in me. I was almost thrumming with it.
in yo face, you crafty little shit.
I swept through the final three pages wearing a grimly determined smile, my loins girded for war. I was going to make it.
i told you. i got this.
And I did—
ohfuck.
—until the very last line.
fuckfuckfuck.
Which hit me like a fist in the throat.
fuuuuuuuuuuuuu
Which was—unlike my loins—insufficiently girded.
uuuuuuuuuuuuuu
Evidently.
uuuuuuuuuuuuck.
So: the works.
damn you, manning.
With the sniveling and the sobbing and the whatever.
damn you to hell.
Which, you know, on balance, I probably should have anticipated.
one of these days, asshole—i will defeat you.
Given that the previous book left me so dehydrated from the weeping that I looked like a naked Ringwraith.
on that fine day, sir, i will not be moved.
Which was pretty fucking intense, you know?
I will not feel pain. I will not feel joy.
All these different emotions.
i will most certainly under no circumstances be made to laugh.
All at once. A feelzy sneak-attack, like my own little Emo Pearl Harbor. I was laid waste.
and it wasn't the fucking whiskey, either, because I only had one little shot, like, three hours ago.
By the convergence of all these little details—objects—snatches of dialogue—images.
i'm not your bitch, manning.
Beautiful, heartbreaking, uplifting images. My distress was inevitable.
i mean it—one day, i'm gonna win this shit.
Ah, well.
i totally will.
Maybe next time.
you watch.
Maybe next time I'll manage to get through an entire Edmond Manning book without some kind of breakdown.
one of these days.
One of these days, right?
jerkface!
Just not today.
I held it together all the way through.
i got this.
All. The way. Through.
i got this—
Until the pictures on the pump.
—shit.
Pain and pleasure at once—grief and joy—and isn't that always how it is, anyway?
not this again.
I put the book down.
just breathe, dude—it'll pass.
Not too bad, this time. With the blubbering.
thaaaaat's it—just like that—keep breathing.
It was like lightning: there... and then not.
i bet chris pine doesn't cry over heartwarming crap like this.
I recovered quickly.
mmm. chris pine.
Renewed, I took up this book once more.
not today, manning.
A sense of triumph mounted in me. I was almost thrumming with it.
in yo face, you crafty little shit.
I swept through the final three pages wearing a grimly determined smile, my loins girded for war. I was going to make it.
i told you. i got this.
And I did—
ohfuck.
—until the very last line.
fuckfuckfuck.
Which hit me like a fist in the throat.
fuuuuuuuuuuuuu
Which was—unlike my loins—insufficiently girded.
uuuuuuuuuuuuuu
Evidently.
uuuuuuuuuuuuck.
So: the works.
damn you, manning.
With the sniveling and the sobbing and the whatever.
damn you to hell.
Which, you know, on balance, I probably should have anticipated.
one of these days, asshole—i will defeat you.
Given that the previous book left me so dehydrated from the weeping that I looked like a naked Ringwraith.
on that fine day, sir, i will not be moved.
Which was pretty fucking intense, you know?
I will not feel pain. I will not feel joy.
All these different emotions.
i will most certainly under no circumstances be made to laugh.
All at once. A feelzy sneak-attack, like my own little Emo Pearl Harbor. I was laid waste.
and it wasn't the fucking whiskey, either, because I only had one little shot, like, three hours ago.
By the convergence of all these little details—objects—snatches of dialogue—images.
i'm not your bitch, manning.
Beautiful, heartbreaking, uplifting images. My distress was inevitable.
i mean it—one day, i'm gonna win this shit.
Ah, well.
i totally will.
Maybe next time.
you watch.
Maybe next time I'll manage to get through an entire Edmond Manning book without some kind of breakdown.
one of these days.
One of these days, right?
jerkface!
Just not today.
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