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skynet666's review against another edition
4.0
Truly unique story with interesting characters. I am always amazed at how events and mental illness affect people differently depending on so many factors. This story wasn't whimsical like The Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, but that was fine with me because I didn't have any expectations like some readers.
atomicyoghurt's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
claire_dobson's review against another edition
3.0
I didn't enjoy it any where near as much as Harold Fry but it was still an interesting read. I found it difficult to warm to the characters but found the subject matter intriguing.
juliregen's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.75
deschatjes's review against another edition
3.0
Not my favourite Rachel Joyce book and struggled to the end. The book is a literal car crash where you just know everything is going to work out horribly and it does.
lakeblackett's review
4.0
Well, color me surprised! "Perfect" by Rachel Joyce turned out to be the unexpected gem of my poolside reading extravaganza.
Sure, there were moments where I had to double-take at some seriously outdated language—like, really guys, it's time to update the vocab—but hey, it's a product of its time, right? Once I pushed past that little hiccup, I found myself sucked into a story that I thought would merely pass the time, but ended up stealing my heart.
It took a bit of coaxing to get fully invested, but once I dove in, I was swimming in a sea of heartwarming characters and poignant moments. Seriously, I was tearing up more often than not—either this book's a tear-jerker or I'm just a softie at heart.
The characters, oh, the characters! From the utterly delightful to the downright despicable, they're the lifeblood of this tale. And let me tell you, the rollercoaster of emotions they put me through was worth every page turn.
So, if you're in a reading rut and need something to shake things up, consider "Perfect" your knight in shining armor. It's an easy read with a healthy dose of heartache and redemption—a perfect cocktail for anyone in need of a literary pick-me-up!
Sure, there were moments where I had to double-take at some seriously outdated language—like, really guys, it's time to update the vocab—but hey, it's a product of its time, right? Once I pushed past that little hiccup, I found myself sucked into a story that I thought would merely pass the time, but ended up stealing my heart.
It took a bit of coaxing to get fully invested, but once I dove in, I was swimming in a sea of heartwarming characters and poignant moments. Seriously, I was tearing up more often than not—either this book's a tear-jerker or I'm just a softie at heart.
The characters, oh, the characters! From the utterly delightful to the downright despicable, they're the lifeblood of this tale. And let me tell you, the rollercoaster of emotions they put me through was worth every page turn.
So, if you're in a reading rut and need something to shake things up, consider "Perfect" your knight in shining armor. It's an easy read with a healthy dose of heartache and redemption—a perfect cocktail for anyone in need of a literary pick-me-up!
stephwd's review against another edition
2.0
I really liked the sound of this book – two seconds are supposedly added to time – a two seconds that not only obsess the young protagonist, Bryon, but also ultimately prove fatal. There is a dual narrative sustained throughout the novel: the first story, which is by far the more interesting, portrays the lives of two young friends, James and Byron, who desperately desire to protect Byron’s increasingly frail mother. The second narrative, set some forty years later, follows the life of Jim, a man who suffers from crippling OCD and is utterly isolated from society. However, the reason for his evident mental fragility is tantalizing withheld both from the reader, and in part, himself.
The novel raises some interesting issues that could well have proved rich material for investigation and narrative. However, these were not really addressed at all. Instead, what Joyce provided us with was a rather bland narrative where the monotonous nature of the boys’ lengthy summer was aptly translated into the novel, which also in turn became rather tedious and repetitive. As a result, I found myself wishing to skim read whole sections particularly those involving Jim, which were not only unrealistic, but failed to really engage my empathy with this rather sad figure.
If I compare it to ‘The Shock of the Fall’, which has many similarities given the fact it also deals with the fall out of a tragic childhood event that then results in mental illness, I felt Joyce’s ‘Perfect’ was significantly lacking. Whilst Filer’s novel cleverly addressed the failures of the mental health service and the devastating impact of closures of facilities that were so crucial to these vulnerable individuals, this was merely skirted over in ‘Perfect’.
What is more, there were obvious issues within the central narrative that Joyce seemingly glossed over – in fact, it seemed all the time that she was concerned only with the surface of things, their aesthetic appearance or perception from the outside rather than what was truly occurring either within the internal world of her characters or beyond this. Too much was left for the reader to infer, interpret or simply guess at. There was much that could have been done with the position of this beautiful, but isolated mother figure: her evident fear of her husband and desperation to fit in with the other elite mothers and becomes someone she clearly was uncomfortable in becoming as well as her own mental issues. Yet although these issues were hinted at together with the medication she was taking, we were never allowed into her internal thoughts and as such, she remained a distant figure whose ultimate demise failed to elicit the sympathy it should have. Moreover, the aftermath of her death was simply left as a cliffhanger so once again we were left to infer the repercussions, which were but briefly alluded to. I would have accepted this fact, if the novel had not clearly been concerned with the aftermath years later in the shape of the second narrative strand. Nor did the story of the father later committing suicide really appear in keeping with his behavior throughout the novel – his constant absence, his lack of care or concern and his evident materialistic obsession. Another interesting issue that Joyce failed to really examine was the young boys’ evident fixation on the beautiful young mother. There was clearly something incestuous in her son’s desire to protect her and the manner in which he often voyeuristically observed her behavior and yet this was neither explored nor adequately addressed.
Having said this, there was often a real beauty to Joyce’s prose. She has a lovely poetic turn of phrase and was adept at creating the oppressive atmosphere of the summer months of 1972 that was absolutely in keeping with the building sense of foreboding that did propel the narrative forward. This was then cleverly juxtaposed with the bitter chill of the winter setting employed in the second narrative, which created both the impression of contrast and relief.
However, ultimately the novel felt lacking. There was so much that could have been done with the material, so much more that could have been made of both the underlying issues and the characters that was barely touched upon. As a result, the narrative itself lacked credibility, often became tedious and was ultimately, far from ‘Perfect’ I am afraid.
The novel raises some interesting issues that could well have proved rich material for investigation and narrative. However, these were not really addressed at all. Instead, what Joyce provided us with was a rather bland narrative where the monotonous nature of the boys’ lengthy summer was aptly translated into the novel, which also in turn became rather tedious and repetitive. As a result, I found myself wishing to skim read whole sections particularly those involving Jim, which were not only unrealistic, but failed to really engage my empathy with this rather sad figure.
If I compare it to ‘The Shock of the Fall’, which has many similarities given the fact it also deals with the fall out of a tragic childhood event that then results in mental illness, I felt Joyce’s ‘Perfect’ was significantly lacking. Whilst Filer’s novel cleverly addressed the failures of the mental health service and the devastating impact of closures of facilities that were so crucial to these vulnerable individuals, this was merely skirted over in ‘Perfect’.
What is more, there were obvious issues within the central narrative that Joyce seemingly glossed over – in fact, it seemed all the time that she was concerned only with the surface of things, their aesthetic appearance or perception from the outside rather than what was truly occurring either within the internal world of her characters or beyond this. Too much was left for the reader to infer, interpret or simply guess at. There was much that could have been done with the position of this beautiful, but isolated mother figure: her evident fear of her husband and desperation to fit in with the other elite mothers and becomes someone she clearly was uncomfortable in becoming as well as her own mental issues. Yet although these issues were hinted at together with the medication she was taking, we were never allowed into her internal thoughts and as such, she remained a distant figure whose ultimate demise failed to elicit the sympathy it should have. Moreover, the aftermath of her death was simply left as a cliffhanger so once again we were left to infer the repercussions, which were but briefly alluded to. I would have accepted this fact, if the novel had not clearly been concerned with the aftermath years later in the shape of the second narrative strand. Nor did the story of the father later committing suicide really appear in keeping with his behavior throughout the novel – his constant absence, his lack of care or concern and his evident materialistic obsession. Another interesting issue that Joyce failed to really examine was the young boys’ evident fixation on the beautiful young mother. There was clearly something incestuous in her son’s desire to protect her and the manner in which he often voyeuristically observed her behavior and yet this was neither explored nor adequately addressed.
Having said this, there was often a real beauty to Joyce’s prose. She has a lovely poetic turn of phrase and was adept at creating the oppressive atmosphere of the summer months of 1972 that was absolutely in keeping with the building sense of foreboding that did propel the narrative forward. This was then cleverly juxtaposed with the bitter chill of the winter setting employed in the second narrative, which created both the impression of contrast and relief.
However, ultimately the novel felt lacking. There was so much that could have been done with the material, so much more that could have been made of both the underlying issues and the characters that was barely touched upon. As a result, the narrative itself lacked credibility, often became tedious and was ultimately, far from ‘Perfect’ I am afraid.
yorkshirecath's review against another edition
2.0
Yawn!!
Taken me 2 months to read this. I found it incredibly boring and pointless. I only enjoyed the last 10% when everything came together. I didn’t find the characters or storyline very enthralling at all.
Taken me 2 months to read this. I found it incredibly boring and pointless. I only enjoyed the last 10% when everything came together. I didn’t find the characters or storyline very enthralling at all.
joanaff17's review against another edition
2.0
Para fãs de Harold Fry e de Quennie Hennessy, esta é uma leitura fora do esperado. E não de uma forma positiva. Enquanto os primeiros dois livros de Rachel Joyce contam histórias tristes mas cheias de pequenos pormenores de amor e esperança no meio da escuridão, este livro é sempre triste, sempre recto, sem picos de vida ou emoção. Se este livro fosse um electrocardiograma, estava desde início extremamente débil ou até morto.
A leitura foi difícil de aguentar. Não que Joyce não tenha uma boa escrita, mas é um desafio ver esta história engrenar. Um livro que me teria demorado duas semanas levou-me o mês inteiro de Novembro.
Esta é a história de Byron Hemmings, um rapaz da classe alta inglesa dos anos 70, que vive no campo com a mãe, a irmã mais nova e um pai austero e ausente, cuja presença obriga a regras constantes e limites severos. Byron, no entanto, é uma criança simpática e calorosa, e que vê no seu melhor amigo James o seu maior herói. James anda na mesma escola para famílias de elevado estatuto e é inteligente e ponderado. No entanto, um pequeno erro entre estes dois amigos irá criar o epicentro de mudanças de elevada magnitude. James informa Byron que, naquele ano de 1972, por aqueles dias, serão adicionados dois segundos ao relógio para acompanhar o movimento da Terra. Byron fica em pânico - não se brinca com o tempo e isso parece ser uma coisa perigosa. Dois segundos, diz ele, é a diferença entre acontecer alguma coisa e não acontecer. No meio das suas preocupações, a profecia auto-cumpre-se: certo dia, enquanto a sua mãe procura não se atrasar enquanto os leva para a escola de carro, Byron vê os ponteiros do relógio mexerem com os dois segundos a mais e, na ânsia de mostrar à mãe o que está a acontecer, distrai-a e Diana bate com carro, atropelando uma pequena garota que se aproximava de bicicleta. Quando, mais tarde, Diana tenta compensar a família da menina, de poucas possibilidades e baixa cultura, vê-se a braços com uma mãe interesseira, grosseira, uma má influência, mas que durante algum tempo lhe parece ser a única amiga capaz de preencher o vazio e a superficialidade dos seus dias solitários. Os capítulos da história de Byron e dos efeitos do acidente na vida da sua família são intercalados com a história de Jim no tempo presente, um homem de cinquenta anos que vive sozinho numa caravana, dominado pelos rituais a que obrigam a sua doença, OCD (distúrbio obsessivo-compulsivo). Há uma ligação entre estas duas personagens, uma ligação que começa com a adição daqueles dois segundos e cujas consequências alguém terá de pagar.
Tal como disse no início, a leitura é difícil de transpor. A história não puxa muito ao leitor, e além disso, enquanto nos obrigamos a continuar, vemos os permanentes sinais de tragédia que se avizinham, sem que ninguém faça algo por isso. As coisas desenrolam-se, capítulo atrás de capítulo, sempre nesse electrocardiograma morto e triste.
Acredito que seja possível gostar deste livro. Na verdade, foram os últimos capítulos que me fizeram subir uma avaliação mais negativa para uma de 2 estrelas no Goodreads (no entanto, o final é rápido demais e pouco realista). Mas se Harold e Quennie tiveram vidas tristes mas com pequenos gestos e momentos de calor, amizade e amor, Byron e Jim estão definitivamente mais sozinhos e gelados, numa história que é apenas triste e aborrecida.
A leitura foi difícil de aguentar. Não que Joyce não tenha uma boa escrita, mas é um desafio ver esta história engrenar. Um livro que me teria demorado duas semanas levou-me o mês inteiro de Novembro.
Esta é a história de Byron Hemmings, um rapaz da classe alta inglesa dos anos 70, que vive no campo com a mãe, a irmã mais nova e um pai austero e ausente, cuja presença obriga a regras constantes e limites severos. Byron, no entanto, é uma criança simpática e calorosa, e que vê no seu melhor amigo James o seu maior herói. James anda na mesma escola para famílias de elevado estatuto e é inteligente e ponderado. No entanto, um pequeno erro entre estes dois amigos irá criar o epicentro de mudanças de elevada magnitude. James informa Byron que, naquele ano de 1972, por aqueles dias, serão adicionados dois segundos ao relógio para acompanhar o movimento da Terra. Byron fica em pânico - não se brinca com o tempo e isso parece ser uma coisa perigosa. Dois segundos, diz ele, é a diferença entre acontecer alguma coisa e não acontecer. No meio das suas preocupações, a profecia auto-cumpre-se: certo dia, enquanto a sua mãe procura não se atrasar enquanto os leva para a escola de carro, Byron vê os ponteiros do relógio mexerem com os dois segundos a mais e, na ânsia de mostrar à mãe o que está a acontecer, distrai-a e Diana bate com carro, atropelando uma pequena garota que se aproximava de bicicleta. Quando, mais tarde, Diana tenta compensar a família da menina, de poucas possibilidades e baixa cultura, vê-se a braços com uma mãe interesseira, grosseira, uma má influência, mas que durante algum tempo lhe parece ser a única amiga capaz de preencher o vazio e a superficialidade dos seus dias solitários. Os capítulos da história de Byron e dos efeitos do acidente na vida da sua família são intercalados com a história de Jim no tempo presente, um homem de cinquenta anos que vive sozinho numa caravana, dominado pelos rituais a que obrigam a sua doença, OCD (distúrbio obsessivo-compulsivo). Há uma ligação entre estas duas personagens, uma ligação que começa com a adição daqueles dois segundos e cujas consequências alguém terá de pagar.
Tal como disse no início, a leitura é difícil de transpor. A história não puxa muito ao leitor, e além disso, enquanto nos obrigamos a continuar, vemos os permanentes sinais de tragédia que se avizinham, sem que ninguém faça algo por isso. As coisas desenrolam-se, capítulo atrás de capítulo, sempre nesse electrocardiograma morto e triste.
Acredito que seja possível gostar deste livro. Na verdade, foram os últimos capítulos que me fizeram subir uma avaliação mais negativa para uma de 2 estrelas no Goodreads (no entanto, o final é rápido demais e pouco realista). Mas se Harold e Quennie tiveram vidas tristes mas com pequenos gestos e momentos de calor, amizade e amor, Byron e Jim estão definitivamente mais sozinhos e gelados, numa história que é apenas triste e aborrecida.