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ojtheviking's reviews
115 reviews
The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas
4.0
Sometimes I don't feel comfortable simply writing a review in terms of how talented I think the author is. Sometimes the topic of the novel is an important point in and of itself. Yes, this story is fictional, but at the same time, it's not fictional at all. It touches upon a topic that is far too real for far too many people. It's a problem that affects far too many lives.
Being from Norway, one could say the social temperature in the US is a bit distant to me in many ways. But I have eyes and ears. I see news articles and read posts from friends on Facebook. And a lot of the things I observe are retold in this book. The systematic racism, police brutality, victim-blaming, everything that's dysfunctional, oppressive, and flat-out wrong in many American neighborhoods. The story does not deny that crimes do get committed, and criminals do exist, as some of the characters are involved in street gangs. But that also shows how systematic the racism is: Any black person living in a neighborhood where there happens to be some criminal activity is automatically assumed to be part of that lifestyle. And the approach is "shoot first, ask later; guilty until proven innocent."
The story also touches upon the more average, everyday stereotypes that can creep up in regular conversations from pure ignorance; white people assuming too much about other cultures, cracking a tasteless joke, and generally speaking before thinking, which could all leave someone to feel pre-judged and unsafe from every direction to the point of utter exhaustion.
As an author, though, Angie Thomas does nail it. The story is well-written. Grounded in reality, yet the style is compelling. It's one of those books I had trouble putting down, and Thomas' literary talent plays a part in that. But, as indicated above, I find the topic important too. And the combination reels you in and has you soaking in the story in a different way than the average fictional novel. From her own author's notes, this story is also inspired by some real events that affected her very early in life. But sadly, you wouldn't really need the author's notes to pick up on that, as one has seen enough of those aforementioned news stories and Facebook posts to know that this is a struggle many African Americans and people of other ethnicities - if not most of them - have been affected by one way or another in their lives.
One of the things I love the most is that despite the very serious topic, it's not all drama all the way. We get to see the characters from different sides. Their strengths, their flaws, the dynamic between friends and family, and there is a "slice of life" feel to many parts of the story. And now and then a little humor is sprinkled on top. It makes the characters come alive and feel more real. However, that also brings it back full circle; it shows how we are all just fellow human beings, yet some of us go through more shit than others in extremely unfair and sometimes fatal ways. And the story will have you smiling one moment, then shocked and frustrated the next.
And it re-establishes a truth that we must still and always speak up about, which is as current today as it was five years ago, ten years ago, thirty and beyond: Black lives matter.
Being from Norway, one could say the social temperature in the US is a bit distant to me in many ways. But I have eyes and ears. I see news articles and read posts from friends on Facebook. And a lot of the things I observe are retold in this book. The systematic racism, police brutality, victim-blaming, everything that's dysfunctional, oppressive, and flat-out wrong in many American neighborhoods. The story does not deny that crimes do get committed, and criminals do exist, as some of the characters are involved in street gangs. But that also shows how systematic the racism is: Any black person living in a neighborhood where there happens to be some criminal activity is automatically assumed to be part of that lifestyle. And the approach is "shoot first, ask later; guilty until proven innocent."
The story also touches upon the more average, everyday stereotypes that can creep up in regular conversations from pure ignorance; white people assuming too much about other cultures, cracking a tasteless joke, and generally speaking before thinking, which could all leave someone to feel pre-judged and unsafe from every direction to the point of utter exhaustion.
As an author, though, Angie Thomas does nail it. The story is well-written. Grounded in reality, yet the style is compelling. It's one of those books I had trouble putting down, and Thomas' literary talent plays a part in that. But, as indicated above, I find the topic important too. And the combination reels you in and has you soaking in the story in a different way than the average fictional novel. From her own author's notes, this story is also inspired by some real events that affected her very early in life. But sadly, you wouldn't really need the author's notes to pick up on that, as one has seen enough of those aforementioned news stories and Facebook posts to know that this is a struggle many African Americans and people of other ethnicities - if not most of them - have been affected by one way or another in their lives.
One of the things I love the most is that despite the very serious topic, it's not all drama all the way. We get to see the characters from different sides. Their strengths, their flaws, the dynamic between friends and family, and there is a "slice of life" feel to many parts of the story. And now and then a little humor is sprinkled on top. It makes the characters come alive and feel more real. However, that also brings it back full circle; it shows how we are all just fellow human beings, yet some of us go through more shit than others in extremely unfair and sometimes fatal ways. And the story will have you smiling one moment, then shocked and frustrated the next.
And it re-establishes a truth that we must still and always speak up about, which is as current today as it was five years ago, ten years ago, thirty and beyond: Black lives matter.
Bad Chili by Joe R. Lansdale
4.0
We've arrived at the fourth book in the Hap and Leonard series, and Lansdale is still going strong. This was also the first time I was completely unfamiliar with the plot on beforehand. By which I mean, I originally watched the far too short-lived TV series based on the books, and the show got me interested in acquiring the books to read the source material. Each season was based on one of the books, so when I started reading these novels, I remembered the main plots from the TV show. However, it was canceled after season three, meaning only the three first books were adapted for the screen, so starting with this fourth novel, there is no longer any on-screen story to compare it to.
But only having this fourth story in written form does not make me lack anything, because Lansdale's writing is masterful. If you're like me and happened to see the TV show first, I'm sure you can understand what I mean when I say that it was very easy to imagine the fourth season in one's head while reading this.
One of the things I love about Lansdale's writing, is that although Bad Chili is "only" less than 250 pages long, he has a very compact delivery, thus managing to deliver a lot of story and character development within that frame without it coming across as rushed in any way. It also helps that readers should be familiar enough with Hap and Leonard by now, so Lansdale can sort of get straight to the point with regard to setting up their next adventure.
And he does so with ease and flair; very early in the first chapter, we get a delightful taste of Lansdale's sense of humor, in a moment that involves a rabid squirrel, but this seemingly out-of-the-blue moment also works seamlessly as a plot device to put the two main characters where they need to be for this book's mystery to present itself.
But speaking of whether readers are already familiar with the characters or not, though: While each novel has for the most part been a stand-alone story so far, there's still the occasional drip of backstory and references to previous moments which gives a natural sense of continuity without those paragraphs coming across as obligatory exposition. Nothing forced, just various things mentioned in passing in the dialogue that will make you go: "Oh yeah, I remember that." And on the off chance that a brand new reader happens to pick up this book first, those drips will get them slightly caught up so that they won't be completely lost and confused.
The banter between the characters is perpetually funny, and clever, and has such a natural flow. I found myself chuckling loudly many times, which isn't always the case for me even when I genuinely find something humorous in other novels. Unexpected quips, delightful sarcasm, and plain old bickering that makes you realize over and over that Hap and Leonard are soulmates in their own way, and all of it is so smoothly woven into the story that you get caught off guard and can't help but laugh sometimes, just like when talking to friends in real life.
As for the mystery in and of itself, Lansdale really does know how to build suspense, and provide some twists and turns that add that little extra grit and grime very befitting what is essentially a Southern noir story.
Speaking of which, it's a bit ambivalent that I finished this book specifically today (June 25, 2022), due to real-life events here in Norway on this day. Whenever I'm reading a book, I make notes along the way to keep track of things I want to point out for these reviews. And one thing I had noted down was that Lansdale has a knack for dealing with certain real-life themes within his aforementioned Southern noir universe in such a way that it both fits the story but also gets his own views across. His stories feature some really vile, prejudiced and bigoted characters, but they serve as a cautionary tale.
This is where I'm getting to my point; Lansdale has previously dealt with racism in these novels, and this time, the main plot also deals with homophobia. Some of the gay-bashing described in this story seems extreme, but then you have a real-life incident like the recent mass shooting by a gay bar in Oslo, causing a scheduled Pride parade to be canceled as a safety measure, not only making you realize that these horrible things really do happen, but also proving why these things are so important to talk about in the first place.
In other words, as much as I applaud Lansdale's knack for humor in his delivery, I also applaud his ability to shed some light on important topics in his own way. And Bad Chili has only gotten me even more excited to continue reading this series.
But only having this fourth story in written form does not make me lack anything, because Lansdale's writing is masterful. If you're like me and happened to see the TV show first, I'm sure you can understand what I mean when I say that it was very easy to imagine the fourth season in one's head while reading this.
One of the things I love about Lansdale's writing, is that although Bad Chili is "only" less than 250 pages long, he has a very compact delivery, thus managing to deliver a lot of story and character development within that frame without it coming across as rushed in any way. It also helps that readers should be familiar enough with Hap and Leonard by now, so Lansdale can sort of get straight to the point with regard to setting up their next adventure.
And he does so with ease and flair; very early in the first chapter, we get a delightful taste of Lansdale's sense of humor, in a moment that involves a rabid squirrel, but this seemingly out-of-the-blue moment also works seamlessly as a plot device to put the two main characters where they need to be for this book's mystery to present itself.
But speaking of whether readers are already familiar with the characters or not, though: While each novel has for the most part been a stand-alone story so far, there's still the occasional drip of backstory and references to previous moments which gives a natural sense of continuity without those paragraphs coming across as obligatory exposition. Nothing forced, just various things mentioned in passing in the dialogue that will make you go: "Oh yeah, I remember that." And on the off chance that a brand new reader happens to pick up this book first, those drips will get them slightly caught up so that they won't be completely lost and confused.
The banter between the characters is perpetually funny, and clever, and has such a natural flow. I found myself chuckling loudly many times, which isn't always the case for me even when I genuinely find something humorous in other novels. Unexpected quips, delightful sarcasm, and plain old bickering that makes you realize over and over that Hap and Leonard are soulmates in their own way, and all of it is so smoothly woven into the story that you get caught off guard and can't help but laugh sometimes, just like when talking to friends in real life.
As for the mystery in and of itself, Lansdale really does know how to build suspense, and provide some twists and turns that add that little extra grit and grime very befitting what is essentially a Southern noir story.
Speaking of which, it's a bit ambivalent that I finished this book specifically today (June 25, 2022), due to real-life events here in Norway on this day. Whenever I'm reading a book, I make notes along the way to keep track of things I want to point out for these reviews. And one thing I had noted down was that Lansdale has a knack for dealing with certain real-life themes within his aforementioned Southern noir universe in such a way that it both fits the story but also gets his own views across. His stories feature some really vile, prejudiced and bigoted characters, but they serve as a cautionary tale.
This is where I'm getting to my point; Lansdale has previously dealt with racism in these novels, and this time, the main plot also deals with homophobia. Some of the gay-bashing described in this story seems extreme, but then you have a real-life incident like the recent mass shooting by a gay bar in Oslo, causing a scheduled Pride parade to be canceled as a safety measure, not only making you realize that these horrible things really do happen, but also proving why these things are so important to talk about in the first place.
In other words, as much as I applaud Lansdale's knack for humor in his delivery, I also applaud his ability to shed some light on important topics in his own way. And Bad Chili has only gotten me even more excited to continue reading this series.
The Two-Bear Mambo by Joe R. Lansdale
4.5
This is the third Hap and Leonard story where I'm already familiar with the plot as I originally saw the TV show first, then went back to collect these books. But Lansdale's Southern noir universe lends itself so much to both rewatchability and re-readability that there hasn't been a single moment where I've felt bored or impatient to get through these books. (With that said, I am of course excited over the fact that the next time I pick up a Hap and Leonard book - the fourth one - it will be a completely original story)
To paraphrase what a friend of mine once said: problematic characters make for a much more interesting story. The author should write about it so that we can talk about it. There are ugly parts in this world, so let's have it on full display in stories so that we can rage about it. I do agree with that. And honestly, Lansdale does this really well in the Hap and Leonard books. As the stories take place in the South, you get your share of rednecks and the homophobia, sexism and racism that follows - we're talking KKK-level nasty racism here, with the N-word scattered throughout pretty much each chapter. It really does get to me, it riles me up and turns my stomach, and I suppose it's a great way for the author to make you root for the main characters even more, and want to see them get those prejudiced bastards.
Overall, this may be the darkest of the three novels I've read so far, although Mucho Mojo also dealt with a fairly dark topic. Still, Lansdale has the ability to maintain a touch of humor every now and then, if only to make the circumstances just a bit more bearable. The dialogue is always one of the strongest suits of these books. Both the banter between Hap and Leonard amongst themselves, and their smartass comebacks to anyone who confronts them one way or another. And as I mentioned in my previous reviews of these books, the narration has such a natural flow, much more that of a guy telling tall tales than stiff, classical literary narration. It has the feel of somebody telling you: "You won't believe what happened to me the other day," and the story evolves from there.
As usual, all the characters are very unique and distinct from each other, the way the scenarios are described and embellished upon is so clear and effortless, and I can imagine that even if it weren't for the fact that I had seen a version of this story through the TV adaptation, I would still have been able to vividly picture it all in my head, due to Lansdale's ability to paint a very clear picture in a short amount of time.
I mean, if we're talking books you can't put down, and books that are labeled "a real page-turner," the fact that I read this in one and a half days should say it all. Another top grade from me.
To paraphrase what a friend of mine once said: problematic characters make for a much more interesting story. The author should write about it so that we can talk about it. There are ugly parts in this world, so let's have it on full display in stories so that we can rage about it. I do agree with that. And honestly, Lansdale does this really well in the Hap and Leonard books. As the stories take place in the South, you get your share of rednecks and the homophobia, sexism and racism that follows - we're talking KKK-level nasty racism here, with the N-word scattered throughout pretty much each chapter. It really does get to me, it riles me up and turns my stomach, and I suppose it's a great way for the author to make you root for the main characters even more, and want to see them get those prejudiced bastards.
Overall, this may be the darkest of the three novels I've read so far, although Mucho Mojo also dealt with a fairly dark topic. Still, Lansdale has the ability to maintain a touch of humor every now and then, if only to make the circumstances just a bit more bearable. The dialogue is always one of the strongest suits of these books. Both the banter between Hap and Leonard amongst themselves, and their smartass comebacks to anyone who confronts them one way or another. And as I mentioned in my previous reviews of these books, the narration has such a natural flow, much more that of a guy telling tall tales than stiff, classical literary narration. It has the feel of somebody telling you: "You won't believe what happened to me the other day," and the story evolves from there.
As usual, all the characters are very unique and distinct from each other, the way the scenarios are described and embellished upon is so clear and effortless, and I can imagine that even if it weren't for the fact that I had seen a version of this story through the TV adaptation, I would still have been able to vividly picture it all in my head, due to Lansdale's ability to paint a very clear picture in a short amount of time.
I mean, if we're talking books you can't put down, and books that are labeled "a real page-turner," the fact that I read this in one and a half days should say it all. Another top grade from me.
Mucho Mojo by Joe R. Lansdale
4.5
When it comes to the first three Hap and Leonard novels, I haven't gone into them blind, as I started collecting these books to begin with because of the far too short-lived TV series. But usually, I try to separate a book and its movie/TV adaptation, thus I managed to enjoy this book all over again as if it were a different (albeit similar) story.
I'm not too well-versed in Southern noir, but I have a feeling that Joe R. Lansdale is one of the better authors within the genre. His writing style makes it all seem so easy, and as I indicated in my review of Savage Season, these stories feel less like standard literature and more like a person (I suppose in this case that would be Hap) just rambling on while reminiscing about his past experiences.
Because of this, I mean it in a good way when I say that it's as if the entire book lacks the classic form of narration, and is solely character narration. To clarify: There are plenty of novels that are narrated from the main character's point of view and still feel like classic, literary storytelling. But with the Hap and Leonard novels, you get more of a sense that these are Hap's personal memoirs.
At the same time, all the characters throughout the story are distinct and unique, all with their own personality and energy. I can retrospectively tell how well these characters lent themselves to the TV adaptation (even though there were some changes here and there), because the whole story has an ensemble of colorful, flawed, and quirky personalities that you can vividly imagine.
There's also this paradox of the story being compact and to the point, while at the same time, Lansdale manages to take his time with it and adds just enough embellishment and world-building to avoid making it feel like just a pointless string of action and plot. There is action for sure, but there is also a lot of warmth, and a delicious touch of humor throughout to make it entertaining and fun beyond just descriptions of macho men getting into brawls and investigating mysteries like a couple of more adult Hardy Boys. Humanity and societal issues are sprinkled on top of the overall plot, and give the story a bit more meaning than just an action-adventure (although the action-adventure part is pretty damn entertaining too).
I loved it!
I'm not too well-versed in Southern noir, but I have a feeling that Joe R. Lansdale is one of the better authors within the genre. His writing style makes it all seem so easy, and as I indicated in my review of Savage Season, these stories feel less like standard literature and more like a person (I suppose in this case that would be Hap) just rambling on while reminiscing about his past experiences.
Because of this, I mean it in a good way when I say that it's as if the entire book lacks the classic form of narration, and is solely character narration. To clarify: There are plenty of novels that are narrated from the main character's point of view and still feel like classic, literary storytelling. But with the Hap and Leonard novels, you get more of a sense that these are Hap's personal memoirs.
At the same time, all the characters throughout the story are distinct and unique, all with their own personality and energy. I can retrospectively tell how well these characters lent themselves to the TV adaptation (even though there were some changes here and there), because the whole story has an ensemble of colorful, flawed, and quirky personalities that you can vividly imagine.
There's also this paradox of the story being compact and to the point, while at the same time, Lansdale manages to take his time with it and adds just enough embellishment and world-building to avoid making it feel like just a pointless string of action and plot. There is action for sure, but there is also a lot of warmth, and a delicious touch of humor throughout to make it entertaining and fun beyond just descriptions of macho men getting into brawls and investigating mysteries like a couple of more adult Hardy Boys. Humanity and societal issues are sprinkled on top of the overall plot, and give the story a bit more meaning than just an action-adventure (although the action-adventure part is pretty damn entertaining too).
I loved it!
Horror: A Thematic History in Fiction and Film by Darryl Jones
3.0
This is the second non-fiction book I've read recently based on the subject of horror movies. While this one is a bit more on the academic side, thus borderline dry on occasion, it was still an interesting read. The author certainly lives up to the chosen title; this book takes us through the history of horror in a very systematic way, with each chapter focusing on a specific theme.
For any history buff out there, a lot of the material should be very familiar - not just the books and movies that are mentioned, but some of the history and behind-the-scenes stuff related to them. However, even the most familiar stories are put in an interesting context, to basically show us how horror stories can often be created based on whichever social and societal issues mankind is dealing with from one era to the next, and in return, how the horror stories can be a reflection - albeit often an over-the-top one - of our society, our nature, and our history.
The book not only does a good job of being clear and concise in terms of having very distinct and separate themes, but also, a lot of care has been put into presenting the history of horror in mostly chronological order as well.
As I initially said, the academic vibe of this book can make it a little bit dry sometimes, but it also reveals an author who genuinely loves horror and who has spent a lot of time on research not just for the sake of writing this book, but also because there is an actual interest in all the history that's behind some of the most well-known books and movies of this particular genre. As such, some parts are written with genuine love, and other parts are written with a slight touch of humor, acknowledging the more outlandish moments in horror's history.
So while some of the chosen themes throughout the book can already be a bit familiar for huge horror fans, it was still interesting to learn more about the actual history, and frankly, how the evolution of humankind and our society has helped shape this genre from one decade to the next.
All in all, interesting, but not entirely mind-blowing.
For any history buff out there, a lot of the material should be very familiar - not just the books and movies that are mentioned, but some of the history and behind-the-scenes stuff related to them. However, even the most familiar stories are put in an interesting context, to basically show us how horror stories can often be created based on whichever social and societal issues mankind is dealing with from one era to the next, and in return, how the horror stories can be a reflection - albeit often an over-the-top one - of our society, our nature, and our history.
The book not only does a good job of being clear and concise in terms of having very distinct and separate themes, but also, a lot of care has been put into presenting the history of horror in mostly chronological order as well.
As I initially said, the academic vibe of this book can make it a little bit dry sometimes, but it also reveals an author who genuinely loves horror and who has spent a lot of time on research not just for the sake of writing this book, but also because there is an actual interest in all the history that's behind some of the most well-known books and movies of this particular genre. As such, some parts are written with genuine love, and other parts are written with a slight touch of humor, acknowledging the more outlandish moments in horror's history.
So while some of the chosen themes throughout the book can already be a bit familiar for huge horror fans, it was still interesting to learn more about the actual history, and frankly, how the evolution of humankind and our society has helped shape this genre from one decade to the next.
All in all, interesting, but not entirely mind-blowing.
My Best Friend's Exorcism by Grady Hendrix
4.25
First of all, I have to say that the timing of my picking up this book is quite interesting. Because initially, I had only heard that this was a very popular book. And once I had started reading it, I found myself thinking: "This is bound to be adapted into a movie or something." Lo and behold, a trailer for the upcoming movie adaptation has now been released. I didn't even know that the adaptation was already in the works, so you might say I finished this book just in time! Judging from the trailer, they've already made some adjustments, but I'll try not to let that bother me.
With that said, this review is about the book first and foremost. And I might as well just say it straight up: I truly enjoyed this from start to finish. For example, I loved the retro vibes. That's of course a very popular thing nowadays, with shows like Stranger Things, and parts of this book feel like a love letter to the 1980s, including the way the book cover itself is made to look like an old, rough-looking VHS tape. To me, that just shows what a golden time it was when it came to movies, comic books, rock music, and video games.
But this was also the era when the Satanic Panic emerged, so it's fitting that such a story as this takes place around that time. It fits the theme, so to speak. Plus, some horror stories work best in that era as opposed to modern times. That heightened feeling of isolation when nobody is as connected as they are in today's technological world, when you can't just google things or immediately call for help.
There's also that typical 1980s horror trope in which none of the parents are truly listening to the teenagers, blaming the problems on drugs, alcohol, friends being bad influences, and so on. Pretty much like how the Elm Street teens were screaming about a boogeyman trying to murder them in their dreams, but the parents just got them separated, arrested, drugged up at a psych ward, etc.
With this being a young adult book, I also sense that parts of this story - however loosely - function as coming-of-age allegories. You have all the standard teenage drama, such as rumors, jealousy, bullying, cliques being formed within groups of friends, and so forth. There just happens to be other forces at work to take these things to the extreme, which also leads to more severe consequences.
Now, whenever I write these book reviews, I try to be as spoiler-free as possible. But I suppose the very title of this novel is a big hint towards specific elements you may find within this story. I point that out because I also have to say that this is more than just a young adult version of a certain story written by William Peter Blatty. Hendrix has sprinkled some humor throughout the pages - albeit never in a way that clashes too much with the horror parts - making this equal parts more ridiculous (in a good way) and extreme. Some of the ridiculousness comes from the cast of characters (such as a group of religious bodybuilders pumping iron for the Lord), and as for the extreme stuff, the inevitable climax that a story like this is bound to build up to feels a lot more visceral.
At the core of it all, though, we explore how much a true friendship is able to endure before it potentially breaks apart. That is the heart of the story, and this pulse beats throughout all of the pages. And frankly, it's very beautifully written. After the humor and the horror, there is something very heartwarming and bittersweet that stays with you once you finish the final page.
With that said, this review is about the book first and foremost. And I might as well just say it straight up: I truly enjoyed this from start to finish. For example, I loved the retro vibes. That's of course a very popular thing nowadays, with shows like Stranger Things, and parts of this book feel like a love letter to the 1980s, including the way the book cover itself is made to look like an old, rough-looking VHS tape. To me, that just shows what a golden time it was when it came to movies, comic books, rock music, and video games.
But this was also the era when the Satanic Panic emerged, so it's fitting that such a story as this takes place around that time. It fits the theme, so to speak. Plus, some horror stories work best in that era as opposed to modern times. That heightened feeling of isolation when nobody is as connected as they are in today's technological world, when you can't just google things or immediately call for help.
There's also that typical 1980s horror trope in which none of the parents are truly listening to the teenagers, blaming the problems on drugs, alcohol, friends being bad influences, and so on. Pretty much like how the Elm Street teens were screaming about a boogeyman trying to murder them in their dreams, but the parents just got them separated, arrested, drugged up at a psych ward, etc.
With this being a young adult book, I also sense that parts of this story - however loosely - function as coming-of-age allegories. You have all the standard teenage drama, such as rumors, jealousy, bullying, cliques being formed within groups of friends, and so forth. There just happens to be other forces at work to take these things to the extreme, which also leads to more severe consequences.
Now, whenever I write these book reviews, I try to be as spoiler-free as possible. But I suppose the very title of this novel is a big hint towards specific elements you may find within this story. I point that out because I also have to say that this is more than just a young adult version of a certain story written by William Peter Blatty. Hendrix has sprinkled some humor throughout the pages - albeit never in a way that clashes too much with the horror parts - making this equal parts more ridiculous (in a good way) and extreme. Some of the ridiculousness comes from the cast of characters (such as a group of religious bodybuilders pumping iron for the Lord), and as for the extreme stuff, the inevitable climax that a story like this is bound to build up to feels a lot more visceral.
At the core of it all, though, we explore how much a true friendship is able to endure before it potentially breaks apart. That is the heart of the story, and this pulse beats throughout all of the pages. And frankly, it's very beautifully written. After the humor and the horror, there is something very heartwarming and bittersweet that stays with you once you finish the final page.
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
3.25
I was looking for recommendations for classic Gothic novels, and this one popped up in one of them. I knew very little about the author beforehand, so I blindly gave it a try, and ultimately, I don't regret it.
The description I stumbled across promised elements of thriller and suspense. In the beginning, I didn't see too much of that, but the narrative has a few, shall we say, changes of pace and tone along the way, where these elements finally emerge. Some aspects of the story might be clichéd nowadays, but back in 1938, I can very well see this book captivating its readers greatly.
Not that it was disappointing prior to that, of course. The writing is consistent, and there are other forms of conflicts and dilemma that gets you invested in the main character early on, with the young, unnamed main character marrying a wealthy widower and being very spontaneously thrown into a life she's not accustomed to.
The beginning of this book could have set the tone for a standard romance novel. But then, the way it switches from her awkwardness and attempts at settling into her new life, to a scenario where she may be facing a type of sabotage, before the story morphs once again to suddenly add the elements of thriller and suspense, it keeps you interested from start to finish. It got me thinking that this could probably be a nice plot for a suspenseful movie back in the day, and sure enough, it was adapted into one of Alfred Hitchcock's earlier films.
It also seems that there are a handful of sequels not written by du Maurier herself, but approved by her estate. These were also written in much more recent times, between 1993 and 2001. I'm conflicted as to whether I should check them out or not. Perhaps one day.
Regardless, as I do want to read the occasional classic now and then, it's nice to be able to check this one off my list, and I found it a pleasant read overall.
The description I stumbled across promised elements of thriller and suspense. In the beginning, I didn't see too much of that, but the narrative has a few, shall we say, changes of pace and tone along the way, where these elements finally emerge. Some aspects of the story might be clichéd nowadays, but back in 1938, I can very well see this book captivating its readers greatly.
Not that it was disappointing prior to that, of course. The writing is consistent, and there are other forms of conflicts and dilemma that gets you invested in the main character early on, with the young, unnamed main character marrying a wealthy widower and being very spontaneously thrown into a life she's not accustomed to.
The beginning of this book could have set the tone for a standard romance novel. But then, the way it switches from her awkwardness and attempts at settling into her new life, to a scenario where she may be facing a type of sabotage, before the story morphs once again to suddenly add the elements of thriller and suspense, it keeps you interested from start to finish. It got me thinking that this could probably be a nice plot for a suspenseful movie back in the day, and sure enough, it was adapted into one of Alfred Hitchcock's earlier films.
It also seems that there are a handful of sequels not written by du Maurier herself, but approved by her estate. These were also written in much more recent times, between 1993 and 2001. I'm conflicted as to whether I should check them out or not. Perhaps one day.
Regardless, as I do want to read the occasional classic now and then, it's nice to be able to check this one off my list, and I found it a pleasant read overall.
The Troop by Nick Cutter
4.25
Some time ago, I read The Deep, and really enjoyed it. So I decided to go back and start from the beginning, and read this book, this author's debut under the Nick Cutter pseudonym. And once again, I was not disappointed.
If someone asked me to recommend suspenseful, good old-fashioned horror stories, Nick Cutter's novels would certainly fit the bill, right alongside Stephen King, whom Cutter credits as a huge inspiration for this debut, and in some ways, it really shows. He specifically mentions Carrie and the way King's debut partly utilized the epistolary style of adding documents and reports and interviews as a way to make the circumstances more realistic. And I'd say Cutter has done this very well in this novel. Plus, the way he jumps back and forth between the main story and the after-the-facts documents, gives the whole reading experience a sense of urgency, a build-up where you're even more intrigued to see how it all unfolds.
This has all the ingredients of a superb horror experience; some might call them familiar tropes, but they are presented in a unique and interesting way that keeps it fresh. There is near-Lovecraftian body horror, but it's presented through the real-world possibilities of an experiment gone awry, there is claustrophobia and paranoia due to the characters being trapped on an island and cut off from civilization, and it's all experienced through the helplessness of young children, the titular troop of Boy Scouts.
The story is intense pretty much from the very first page, starting with the introduction of the mysterious Hungry Man, and it never really lets up from that point on. It's a desperate struggle for survival, and while I've already pointed out that Cutter has admitted to being strongly influenced by Stephen King, there's also a whiff of Lord of the Flies here as well, as the troop not only faces the horrors that the Hungry Man has brought with him, but also a growing conflict amongst them.
Violent, visceral, gory, brutal, merciless, and incredibly well-written.
If someone asked me to recommend suspenseful, good old-fashioned horror stories, Nick Cutter's novels would certainly fit the bill, right alongside Stephen King, whom Cutter credits as a huge inspiration for this debut, and in some ways, it really shows. He specifically mentions Carrie and the way King's debut partly utilized the epistolary style of adding documents and reports and interviews as a way to make the circumstances more realistic. And I'd say Cutter has done this very well in this novel. Plus, the way he jumps back and forth between the main story and the after-the-facts documents, gives the whole reading experience a sense of urgency, a build-up where you're even more intrigued to see how it all unfolds.
This has all the ingredients of a superb horror experience; some might call them familiar tropes, but they are presented in a unique and interesting way that keeps it fresh. There is near-Lovecraftian body horror, but it's presented through the real-world possibilities of an experiment gone awry, there is claustrophobia and paranoia due to the characters being trapped on an island and cut off from civilization, and it's all experienced through the helplessness of young children, the titular troop of Boy Scouts.
The story is intense pretty much from the very first page, starting with the introduction of the mysterious Hungry Man, and it never really lets up from that point on. It's a desperate struggle for survival, and while I've already pointed out that Cutter has admitted to being strongly influenced by Stephen King, there's also a whiff of Lord of the Flies here as well, as the troop not only faces the horrors that the Hungry Man has brought with him, but also a growing conflict amongst them.
Violent, visceral, gory, brutal, merciless, and incredibly well-written.
The Elementals by Michael McDowell
4.5
Coincidences have a tendency to sneak up on you. I was reading an online list of highly recommended horror novels, where this book was mentioned. It seemed interesting, so I ordered it. While finishing up Geek Love by Katherine Dunn, I knew I was going to read this one next, and it would be my first time reading anything written by McDowell.
But in the meantime, I also started watching an old anthology horror/sci-fi TV series called Tales from the Darkside (created and produced by none other than George A. Romero); I remember being scared by it as a child, so I bought the complete series on DVD a few years ago out of nostalgia, and suddenly decided a few weeks ago it was finally time to get started on it. And it just so happens that McDowell had written the scripts for several episodes, often the most horror-themed ones, and a couple of them were in fact among the episodes I could remember being scared by way back when.
So it turns out I was introduced to McDowell's work at a very early age without even knowing it. That just makes it all the more cool that I've now finally read one of his novels. And I really enjoyed it. It was well written, and the overall vibe was similar to, and consistent with, the chills McDowell gave me as a child via the Tales from the Darkside episodes.
Despite it being a relatively short novel of 218 pages, this story is a slow burn, but not in a bad way. It gives you time to get familiar with the characters, as well as the family dynamic, including the dysfunctional parts. And whether it's a novel or a horror movie, I've always been of the opinion that establishing the characters first will always get you more emotionally invested before all hell breaks loose.
With that said, with this novel being as short as it was, there's still a slight feeling that you were given only enough to care (which I guess in some ways is good enough), and that McDowell didn't dwell on moments for too long, nor did he digress very much. It's a compact horror story in that respect, intended as a quick read. It may just be the case that he writes well enough, so much so that I'd be okay with a little more dwelling, put it that way.
Of course, despite my comment about this being a slow burn, there is certainly a sense of mystery introduced early on, but it lingers and builds at an even, gradual pace, while you're still getting familiar with the characters, and the aforementioned moment of all hell breaking loose starts after you've read a fairly large chunk of the book. But that makes the experience all the more intense from then on.
As for the actual horror in this story, the idea is fairly original in terms of what kind of forces the Savage family is up against. Or, at least, it's a unique take on such a concept. I especially like the inclusion of sand as a threat in and of itself; sand that is inexplicably pouring into rooms, making the scenario quite claustrophobic and nightmarish. And there's almost a sense of symbolism there, that the supernatural forces are as old as time itself, using the sand to reclaim their territory when the humans invade areas where they don't belong.
So, if you're looking for a quick read that still has its suspenseful moments, I'd say The Elementals is worth checking out.
But in the meantime, I also started watching an old anthology horror/sci-fi TV series called Tales from the Darkside (created and produced by none other than George A. Romero); I remember being scared by it as a child, so I bought the complete series on DVD a few years ago out of nostalgia, and suddenly decided a few weeks ago it was finally time to get started on it. And it just so happens that McDowell had written the scripts for several episodes, often the most horror-themed ones, and a couple of them were in fact among the episodes I could remember being scared by way back when.
So it turns out I was introduced to McDowell's work at a very early age without even knowing it. That just makes it all the more cool that I've now finally read one of his novels. And I really enjoyed it. It was well written, and the overall vibe was similar to, and consistent with, the chills McDowell gave me as a child via the Tales from the Darkside episodes.
Despite it being a relatively short novel of 218 pages, this story is a slow burn, but not in a bad way. It gives you time to get familiar with the characters, as well as the family dynamic, including the dysfunctional parts. And whether it's a novel or a horror movie, I've always been of the opinion that establishing the characters first will always get you more emotionally invested before all hell breaks loose.
With that said, with this novel being as short as it was, there's still a slight feeling that you were given only enough to care (which I guess in some ways is good enough), and that McDowell didn't dwell on moments for too long, nor did he digress very much. It's a compact horror story in that respect, intended as a quick read. It may just be the case that he writes well enough, so much so that I'd be okay with a little more dwelling, put it that way.
Of course, despite my comment about this being a slow burn, there is certainly a sense of mystery introduced early on, but it lingers and builds at an even, gradual pace, while you're still getting familiar with the characters, and the aforementioned moment of all hell breaking loose starts after you've read a fairly large chunk of the book. But that makes the experience all the more intense from then on.
As for the actual horror in this story, the idea is fairly original in terms of what kind of forces the Savage family is up against. Or, at least, it's a unique take on such a concept. I especially like the inclusion of sand as a threat in and of itself; sand that is inexplicably pouring into rooms, making the scenario quite claustrophobic and nightmarish. And there's almost a sense of symbolism there, that the supernatural forces are as old as time itself, using the sand to reclaim their territory when the humans invade areas where they don't belong.
So, if you're looking for a quick read that still has its suspenseful moments, I'd say The Elementals is worth checking out.
The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History by Elizabeth Kolbert
4.5
Now, so far in life, I've probably read a lot more fiction than non-fiction. And most of the non-fiction I have read are (auto)biographies, usually about musicians. Still, there is a part of me that is very fascinated by this planet's history, and its evolution. In some ways it's the counterpart to my love for science fiction; sci-fi sometimes shows us where what we can evolve into, and non-fiction books about evolution show us where we come from. However, a book like this also warns us about where we are headed.
One might argue that you don't really need a book to tell us what we already know: Humankind is royally fucking up this planet. But Kolbert's book makes everything all the more clear, in such a clear and detailed way, it all becomes more sobering than ever. Over the course of thirteen chapters, she talks about various species and forms of nature around the world - frogs, bats, birds, ocean acidification, plant life, even our not-so-distant cousins, the Neanderthals - and in a near formulaic way manages to sum up their entire lifespan with the conclusion: "Then humans came along."
At the end of the book, she starts off her acknowledgments by saying: "A journalist writing a book about mass extinction needs a lot of help," before she goes on to mention several names of several knowledgeable people; the expertise. I think in some ways that's part of the reason why I find this book so colorfully written. As a journalist, she is much closer to the field of an author than she is to said expertise, so this book feels like the work of an author who has done some massive research, rather than just a non-fiction book containing facts and statistics, if that makes sense.
What I'm getting at with that, is that Kolbert manages to avoid being dry in her writing. She keeps it interesting, which makes it that much more of a pleasure to read, but it also gets the point across even more thoroughly, even with the occasional drip of humor here and there. (Albeit sometimes in the "I laugh because I must not cry" vein, to quote Abraham Lincoln)
But as I said above, it's also very sobering. A thought-provoking and in some ways terrifying book about the true, most savage plague this world has ever encountered. Could it be the wake-up call we need? But even if it is ... is it too late?
One might argue that you don't really need a book to tell us what we already know: Humankind is royally fucking up this planet. But Kolbert's book makes everything all the more clear, in such a clear and detailed way, it all becomes more sobering than ever. Over the course of thirteen chapters, she talks about various species and forms of nature around the world - frogs, bats, birds, ocean acidification, plant life, even our not-so-distant cousins, the Neanderthals - and in a near formulaic way manages to sum up their entire lifespan with the conclusion: "Then humans came along."
At the end of the book, she starts off her acknowledgments by saying: "A journalist writing a book about mass extinction needs a lot of help," before she goes on to mention several names of several knowledgeable people; the expertise. I think in some ways that's part of the reason why I find this book so colorfully written. As a journalist, she is much closer to the field of an author than she is to said expertise, so this book feels like the work of an author who has done some massive research, rather than just a non-fiction book containing facts and statistics, if that makes sense.
What I'm getting at with that, is that Kolbert manages to avoid being dry in her writing. She keeps it interesting, which makes it that much more of a pleasure to read, but it also gets the point across even more thoroughly, even with the occasional drip of humor here and there. (Albeit sometimes in the "I laugh because I must not cry" vein, to quote Abraham Lincoln)
But as I said above, it's also very sobering. A thought-provoking and in some ways terrifying book about the true, most savage plague this world has ever encountered. Could it be the wake-up call we need? But even if it is ... is it too late?