Betrayed by P. C. Cast and Kristin Cast

Week 21‘s book is the polar opposite of 20′s. Really. I went from one of the best books I’ve ever read to one of the worst. Of course, this means I got to have fun while still giddy from reading something brilliant. It only makes this book pale even more… there’s no image this week – I’m with my parents and it makes photographs harder to do. When I get home, I’ll insert photos to posts that have odd fonts or the likes.

[NO PICTURE YET]

Title: Forrådt – Nattens hus #2
By: P. C. Cast and Kristin Cast
Pages: 305
Published by Tellerup, 2010
First published 2007

Fledgling vampyre Zoey Redbird has managed to settle in at the House of Night.  She’s come to terms with the vast powers the vampyre goddess, Nyx, has given her, and is getting a handle on being the new Leader of the Dark Daughters. Best of all, Zoey finally feels like she belongs–like she really fits in. She actually has a boyfriend…or two. Then the unthinkable happens: Human teenagers are being killed, and all the evidence points to the House of Night. While danger stalks the humans from Zoey’s old life, she begins to realize that the very powers that make her so unique might also threaten those she loves. Then, when she needs her new friends the most, death strikes the House of Night, and Zoey must find the courage to face a betrayal that could break her heart, her soul, and jeopardize the very fabric of her world.

***

Rating on Goodreads:  (didn’t like it)

First things first (unrelated to the book): I’m thinking about dividing my reviews differently – I’m going to look at plot, setting, and characters and together they’ll say how well the book and the writing works to me. I think this makes more sense than the old format (writing, characters, plot). So, let’s just have a stab at this. Literally. Let’s stab the book.

No, I’m kidding. I’d never stab a book. Regardless of how bad it is, regardless of the pain it inflicts on me as I continually bang my head on whatever object is nearby while reading (I’ve learned not to read next to sharp objects and fire, so that leaves just the walls). No, I’m not a fan of violating books and neither should you be. No, you shouldn’t burn Twilight or Marked or even this book. It’s a waste of fun. Read them. Read them and weep and laugh and write stupid reviews like this if you’re a bitch like me.

I sure as frick is a bitch like me and I feel like it’s with good reason. I mean, holy mahogany – I didn’t expect this to better than the first, hardly, but worse? How Casts? How do you do it? I mean, even a broken clock is right twice a day, but the Casts … they just aren’t. Even Stephenie Meyer can put together a sentence that works. Even she managed to create characters that even the haters enjoyed. Even Tommy Wiseau manages to get out of bed and make someone laugh. Even I manage to shake hands with a stranger while I’d rather huddle up in a corner with a bad book. So, how is it possible that this is even worse than the first?

This… this isn’t even funny. It’s depressing. Say I present to you a book about a character. She is well loved by everybody, but in secret she likes to drink blood and she is cheating on her boyfriend with two different guys. If you were presuming I’m presenting an anti-hero you’d be wrong. She’s the straight up hero. I’m supposed to sympathise with this piece of… bad character. I’m supposed to root for her. I’d rather root for Scarlett O’Hara and she’s supposed to be a bitch. I’d rather root for an eggplant in a cape and goggles… actually, Eggplant Man has merit as a superhero. Zoey Redbird has nothing. Friggin’ NOTHING.

Right, I’m getting ahead of myself here – I didn’t bash the world building too thoroughly for the first book, so let me do it this time around: it’s stupid. The only real thought the Casts have given the world building for this series is ‘it’s like the real world, but with vampires!’ Oh, I’m sorry – vampyres. The only good thing about reading the (still) awful Danish translation is the fact that I avoid looking at that.
Point is – there’s not really any kind of world building. What little there is, is confusing and inconsistent. The best writers and poets and so forth are vampyres in this world (*shudder* oh my god, can I just not use that word? It’s grating) and some people don’t like them and stuff because they… drink blood. Though, not really, they have blood banks and stuff so they don’t have to drink blood from humans and some religious nuts don’t like them and they have power over the four elements (whut?) and I’m sure there’s no consistency whatsoever in this universe. It’s all off-hand remarks about the world when they feel like it fits in: ‘so I ran oh, and by the way, vampyres run really, really fast so I ran very fast’ well thank you, but maybe you should’ve mentioned this before? Asspull much? Also, the religious people are needlessly offensive. Not all religious people are crazy and all OMG VAMPYRES ARE EVUL AND EVEWYFING IS BAD UNLESS IT’S SUMFIN’ TO DO WIF GOD. I’m not religious myself, but I feel insulted by the way religion is portrayed in this. It’s rude and unnecessary because it adds nothing to the story except more reasons for POOR ZOEY to angst a lot. Barf.

But pretty much the biggest bummer of all this hailstorm of suck is the fact that I cannot, even for a second, be allowed to forget how AMAYYYZING AND SPECHUL Zoey Redbird is. All she does is complain that she’s not normal – BOOHOO YOU SPECHUL LITTLE SNOWFLAKE – and her friends keep telling her how speschul she is and when her friends aren’t telling her how spechul she is, everyone else is. Except for the EVUL people – they don’t like her. Guess I’m evil. Fancy that.
Look, I don’t mind chosen ones. They can actually work – Harry Potter works, and there are lots of other examples (can’t think of any but shut up, there are lots), but they don’t, don’t, DON’T work when all the world revolves around them. Nothing in this book happens that doesn’t have something to do with Zoey. Nothing at all. Every single character revolves around her. Everything. EVERYONE. OHMYGOD, IT’S A CONSPIRACY. The Greek names… they’re in on it, I SWEEEEAR.

SPOILER TIME! DING DA DING DA DIIING.
Right, so, Zoey starts flirting with a teacher (bit squick, though, you know, I have had crushes on teachers… though, they never flirted with me, or touched me… right, so squick anyway) and has weird, bloody semi-sex with her ex-boyfriend (the bloody is LITERAL, not a swear word… SQUICK, gotta say I was pretty disturbed by that scene – making out while drinking the guy’s blood was… disgusting, thanks for that image, Casts) and when she admits to her boyfriend that she still has a crush on her ex-boyfriend, he doesn’t break up with her or just smack her around. Just a bit.. He makes out with her – ‘oh, we’ll figure this out my spechul snowflakey. I still wuv you’. BARF. Barf, barf, barf, barf, barf, barf.  (Not saying guys should beat their girlfriends when they cheat on them – they should break up with the stupid little things and preserve their self respect – you’re worth more than that, guys).

Zoey Redbird isn’t though, the self-righteous…

[Censored]

… and when her best friend dies, everyone is absolutely sure to take care of POOR ZOEY WHO LOST HER BEST FRIEND. All her friends are there to comfort her, because obviously the girl was their friend too and they don’t need to mourn as much as POOR LITTLE SPECHUL ZOEY. You friggin’…

[Censored]

All in all, this book sucks. Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. This is in so many ways the exact opposite of everything that makes a good book (read: the exact opposite of the Final Empire). Shallow characters whose only purpose is to praise the main character (or be super duper EVUL), a plot revolving entirely around the main character… and a main character who is completely unbearable. Couple that with an unbearable narrative. This character has the attention span of a 13-year old kid in a candy store with fifty flat screens showing fifty different cartoons. She comments on irrelevant things during ”action” scenes (in the widest sense possible) and wonders about stupid things while supposedly grieving her best friend.

I am totally over the Greek names thing, though… *smashes lamp* … well, now I am.

The Final Empire – Mistborn Book One by Brandon Sanderson

Week 20 and WHAT A BOOK. Expect me to be irrationally fond of this book and deny any flaws it may have. This is my precious. I can sincerely say this is one of the best books I have ever read. [Initiate fangirling in 3... 2.... 1... GO!]

Title: The Final Empire – Mistborn Book One
By: Brandon Sanderson
Pages: 647
Published by Gollancz, 2009
First published 2006

For a thousand years the ash fell. For a thousand years, the Skaa slaved in misery and lived in fear. For a thousand years, the Lord Ruler reigned with absoulte power and ultimate terror, divinely invincible. Every attempted revolt has failed miserably.

Yet somehow hope survives. A new kind of uprising is being planned, one that depends of the cunning of a brilliant criminal mastermind and the courage of an unklikely heroïne, a Skaa street urchin, who must learn to master Allomancy, the power of a mistborn.

What if the prophesied hero had failed to defeat the Dark Lord? The answer will be found in the Mistborn triology, a saga of surprises that begins here.

***

Rating on Goodreads: (it was amazing)

OH MY GOD.
This… just… gaaaah! This is so brilliant. So perfect, so astonishingly awesome. This is a darker version of Harry Potter. This is awesome if awesome had pages and a cover. This is, quite possibly, one of the best books I have ever read.

I mean that. Wow. Just WOW.
I first got to ‘know’ Brandon Sanderson through lectures on Youtube. There’s a series of lectures for writers on Youtube (and if you want to be a writer – particularly of fantasy – go look at them on Youtube) and because I don’t want to take advice from a writer I don’t like, I got a hold of Sanderson’s book and what do you know… it’s brilliant. Absolutely stunning.

Right, before I start gushing for seriousness, I’d like to point out how he says in his lectures that ‘it has to be awesome’ when he writes. Holy friggin’ hell does it show. But let me at least TRY to be coherent about this. I’m rambling.

I almost instantly liked the characters. Get through the first few chapters and you’re bound to fall in love already. Kelsier’s awesome, Vin is awesome – of course the rest of them are awesome. They are so likeable. Even Vin who, had Sanderson been less talented, could have easily turned out annoying and too-perfect, is likeable. She is probably the only character I have encountered so far, who is said to have trust issues who actually has trust issues. Often, writers say ‘oh, she’s been hurt so much, she has trust issues’ and then when the love interest comes along, she’s swooning and moaning and bye-bye trust issues! Not so here. Vin is also a more realistic female than I’ve seen written by a lot of women. She’s not strong because she’s all male – she has a female side and a softness and that’s just part of who she is. I’ve seen this quote by George R. R. Martin where he says he treats women like people and although he’s not bad at writing females – he’s not nearly as good as this. Sorry.
It’s not like any of Vin’s attributes are stated bluntly either – Sanderson knows what show don’t tell is and he uses it… why am I not married to this man? Oh, that’s right – he’s too AWESOME.

The world building is amazing as well, and the magic systems. It’s all so brilliantly put together. The Big Bad is an actual threat to the world and the world is a horrible place because of this man – it’s not just a man who’s bad because the writer says so. This guy is EVIL. (Notice I’m using All Caps again? Well, this time it’s Caps Lock of JOY – such a strange feeling). The world is so well built. I love allomancy and feruchemy and I love the city and the creatures and everything. My, why isn’t this book more popular? Why haven’t they made a movie (yet)? Sorry, too much gushing, perhaps. But dang, this is just so GOOD.

I mean, a book actually surprising me? Some of you may know that I’m rarely surprised (too much TvTropes will do this to you), but this managed to be surprising without asspulling. The plot was so well put together. It might seem like random events put together when you read it for the first time, but then the end comes and DANG. Just DANG, that is so AWESOME.

Because really, the general feel of this book is a boy having fun. A very intelligent boy who’s also respectful to women, but a boy nonetheless. Sanderson loves his fantasy world. He loves his characters. He loves the story and the magic and the action and consequently, I love it all, too. And you should, too. Now, go read this book. No, you heard me. Go read it, now. That’s an order. I’m going to roll around on the floor, fangirling like a pro.

INSTANT FAVOURITE.

Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin.

Week 19 concludes my list. I mean, I’m not really done – I haven’t read ‘em all – but reading stuff other people chose was getting tiring. Time I choose myself. I do feel like I’m pretty good at choosing books I like (and dislike… I chose Marked after all!) so from now on, I read mostly what I want. I am reading some stuff from the list that I wanted to read anyway (like the Princess Bride and Confessions of an Ugly Step Sister). But let’s get the last week of obeying the list over with. This is Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin.

Title: Dødens herskerinde
Original title: Mistress of the Art of Death
By: Ariana Franklin
Pages: 378
Published by Aschehoug Dansk forlag 2007
First published 2007

A chilling, mesmerizing novel that combines the best of modern forensic thrillers with the detail and drama of historical fiction.

In medieval Cambridge, England, four children have been murdered. The crimes are immediately blamed on the town’s Jewish community, taken as evidence that Jews sacrifice Christian children in blasphemous ceremonies. To save them from the rioting mob, the king places the Cambridge Jews under his protection and hides them in a castle fortress. King Henry I is no friend of the Jews-or anyone, really-but he is invested in their fate. Without the taxes received from Jewish merchants, his treasuries would go bankrupt. Hoping scientific investigation will exonerate the Jews, Henry calls on his cousin the King of Sicily-whose subjects include the best medical experts in Europe-and asks for his finest “master of the art of death,” an early version of the medical examiner. The Italian doctor chosen for the task is a young prodigy from the University of Salerno. But her name is Adelia-the king has been sent a mistress of the art of death.

Adelia and her companions-Simon, a Jew, and Mansur, a Moor-travel to England to unravel the mystery of the Cambridge murders, which turn out to be the work of a serial killer, most likely one who has been on Crusade with the king. In a backward and superstitious country like England, Adelia must conceal her true identity as a doctor in order to avoid accusations of witchcraft. Along the way, she is assisted by Sir Rowley Picot, one of the king’s tax collectors, a man with a personal stake in the investigation. Rowley may be a needed friend, or the fiend for whom they are searching. As Adelia’s investigation takes her into Cambridge’s shadowy river paths and behind the closed doors of its churches and nunneries, the hunt intensifies and the killer prepares to strike again .

***

Rating on Goodreads: (liked it)

Right, finally. Only took me a coulple of weeks *cough* Right, so seeing as this is a review, I guess it all boils down to whether or not I like the book. So… do I?

Short answer: no.

Long answer: actually kind of yes but then not but… Right, let’s just do it the usual way.
So, what I expected from this book and what I got was very different. I expected a pretty straightforward, simple crime story set in Medieval England. What I got was historical fiction with a crime story, sorta. It’s not really a bad thing, but when your expectations are turned around like this, you can’t help but feel a certain disappointment. Before we talk more about that, though, let’s talk about the stuff I usually do.

First off the writing, which I found to be confusing. Sometimes, I found that another thing was happening while I thought that other stuff was happening. Some sentences were downright clumsy, but it’s hard to say whether it’s the writer’s fault or the translater. It’s generally very beautiful prose with some effective descriptions, but at the same time it was just difficult to keep track of what was going on. The narrative was sort of all over the place.

When it comes to the characters, they are actually nice and memorable, which is one reason this book is not a one or a two. I like them well enough, the main character probably less so, and they added some to the story. When I say I probably didn’t like the main character much, it’s because she suffers from that all too common problem: the author just liked her too much. She is taken too seriously and thus I can’t take her seriously. Everytime her entire name was mentioned like a sort of title, probably to sound cool, it just seemed melodramatic and I kind of giggled. Other than that – the other characters were neat and good fun. It’s not like Franklin is the first to fall in love with her main character.

The story is where I kind of grind to a halt and start really dislinking. There’s a crime story in this book, there really is, and it’s interesting and intriguing and I really like it. It’s just not focused enough. See, Franklin used to write historical fiction and not historical thrillers and it shows, I’m afraid. She has done an absolutely stunning amount of research, and it is impressive as holy applejuice, but I only know this because of the massive infodumping.
Now, I actually like infodumping here and there and this is the first time (except for Clive Cussler) I really see how it can be a disadvantage. There is so much info in there and that would be cool if I read this because it was historical fiction, but I read it for the murder mystery. An intriguing murder mystery that is completely drowned by so much other stuff. It’s description heavy too, and while very poetic and beautiful it’s just way too much.
In the end, the mystery was resolved and I liked the resolve and I liked the mystery, but even after the end of the murder mystery, the story dragged on and on and I just got bored by the last fifty pages.

In the end, I’ll give Franklin that I liked the mystery but there was just not enough of it. Less description of feasts and dresses and pretty rivers and birdies could have made it better for me. I do see a lot of positive reviews on Goodreads, so perhaps I’m just the weird one out. I did like this book, I just wanted more murder mystery and less description of medieval life, but if you don’t agree with me on that, you’ll probably like this very well.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett

Week 18 I read a book I couldn’t finish. Why? I’ll let the review speak for itself.

Title: Niceville
Original title: The Help
By: Kathryn Stockett
Pages: 410
Published by Cicero, Copenhagen, 2011 (e-book)
First published 2009

Three ordinary women are about to take one extraordinary step.
Twenty-two-year-old Skeeter has just returned home after graduating from Ole Miss. She may have a degree, but it is 1962, Mississippi, and her mother will not be happy till Skeeter has a ring on her finger. Skeeter would normally find solace with her beloved maid Constantine, the woman who raised her, but Constantine has disappeared and no one will tell Skeeter where she has gone.
Aibileen is a black maid, a wise, regal woman raising her seventeenth white child. Something has shifted inside her after the loss of her own son, who died while his bosses looked the other way. She is devoted to the little girl she looks after, though she knows both their hearts may be broken.
Minny, Aibileen’s best friend, is short, fat, and perhaps the sassiest woman in Mississippi. She can cook like nobody’s business, but she can’t mind her tongue, so she’s lost yet another job. Minny finally finds a position working for someone too new to town to know her reputation. But her new boss has secrets of her own.
Seemingly as different from one another as can be, these women will nonetheless come together for a clandestine project that will put them all at risk. And why? Because they are suffocating within the lines that define their town and their times. And sometimes lines are made to be crossed.
In pitch-perfect voices, Kathryn Stockett creates three extraordinary women whose determination to start a movement of their own forever changes a town, and the way women – mothers, daughters, caregivers, friends – view one another. A deeply moving novel filled with poignancy, humor, and hope, The Help is a timeless and universal story about the lines we abide by, and the ones we don’t.

***

Rating on Goodreads: (it was okay)

For the second time this year, I’m not going to finish a book. It’ll be difficult for me to explain why I won’t finish this, but I’ll give it a try.

Don’t get me wrong – this story needs to be told. The story of how horrible the blacks were treated is a story that can only be told too much. I also liked the black maids and their stories. Aibileen and Minny were nice characters and I felt for them. I like them.
What I don’t like is Skeeter and she was just too big a character. Why do I need to read page up and page down about her angsting about how ugly she is and how annoying her mother is? I get it – she’s so special because she sees the way the blacks are treated is wrong – but this is nothing new. Her story has been told a billion times. A trillion times over and over again. I wanted to hear the blacks maids’ stories and while there were a lot of those stories, the next it was just white angst from Skeeter.

I think I might have liked this book better if it’d been just about the black maids and not saint Skeeter who knows what’s right. Sorry, her character is just so worn and boring.
Stories like this need to be told, without a doubt, but I wouldn’t choose Stockett to do it. I’m not interested in this book. I don’t care much for the writing and there is not enough of Aibileen and Minny that I want to go on.

I see a lot of people calling this innocent fluff and heartwarming and feel-good, but I don’t feel it. I think it’s a weak novel with some good characters that are unfortunately overshadowed by a boring white character who’s given too much attention (at least in the first half). I’m sorry, but I just don’t get the hype. I’m not finishing.

The Dice Man by Luke Rheinhart

Week 14 and we all know it’s not my fourteenth week of reading. Fnarg. Right, this next review might be slightly less sucky than I, Claudius, though not by much. Here we go… review two out of two: The Dice Man. Beware that this is also posted in all its unedited glory and it probably shows.

Title: Terningemanden
Original title: The Dice Man
By: Luke Rhinehart
Pages: 477
Published by Klim 2011
First published 1971

In the beginning was Chance, and Chance was with God and Chance was God …. There was a man sent by Chance, whose name was Luke …. And Chance was made flesh … and he dwelt among us, full of chaos, and falsehood and whim. — from The Book of the Die

So begins this 1970s classic of sex, drugs, and, of course, dice. Bored psychiatrist Luke Rhinehart lives with his wife and two children in their “slightly upper, slightly east” apartment in Manhattan. Dissatisfied with both Western and Eastern philosophies, alternately embracing the meaningfulness and meaninglessness of life, Luke’s world is forever changed when he finds religion through the simple roll of the die and is “stunned and converted — as only the utterly bored can be”.

Let the dice decide This is the only path to liberation and truth for Dr. Rhinehart and his patients. It seems sex is always an option as they roll their way through therapy sessions, relationships, parenting — even a mental institution breakout. Luke spreads his new religion with a hilarious combination of evangelical fervor and moral depravity, turning his life — and in some ways the world — on its ear. Because once you hand your life over to the dice, anything can happen.

A rollicking good read and an irreverent parody of American psychoanalytical culture, The Dice Man is entertaining, humorous, shocking, and subversive — one of the international cult bestsellers of our time.

***

Rating on Goodreads: (it was okay)

This is a difficult one. Let me from the beginning say this:
I will not comment on whether or not living your life by the dice is a good idea. Personally I’d never do it, because my perfectionism would freak out and kill me, but that’s as much as I’ll say on the matter. I’ll deal with the book only and then you can all keelhaul me for not “getting” it.

So let’s start talking about what I believe is the best aspect of this book: the writing. The dialogue is very witty and I even chuckled reading this. I liked the experimental things he did with his writing: changing viewpoint, including excerpts from “reports,” all those weird little things. I like it. It brilliantly portrays what the book is all about and the random nature of what is being portrayed. Not going to lie – that’s brilliant. It is brilliantly written.

Characters… geh, meh, fneh. I don’t like them. Yeah, I think it’s because it’s very seventies, if you catch my drift. Rhinehart is the protagonist and he’s just insane, the other characters are all conformists ruled by the Evul Society™ until he turns them into Dice people and, let’s be honest, he usually does that with sex, somehow. Amazing what you can do with your di… dice. And the worst aspect of this, I guess, is really the portrayal of women. Because they’re all… well, they’re all horny. They’re all reformed by Rhinehart’s holy di… ce and that’s cool and all, but he’s not even trying to create nuanced female characters. Even a Christian girl who’s a afraid of God’s punishment can be convinced to have sex with strangers if you just work her the right way. It does feel like every single female character in this book is merely there for Rhinehart to have sex with… *trying to think of a female character he didn’t bang* well, there’s his young daughter and a co-worker. That’s it. Do correct me if I’m wrong… or just don’t “get” it.

Wee, chickens! He, he, he, they’re all so happy because rocks make them trip and smile. Oooh, that thing has numbers on it! Wait, wait, I get it! This is marshmallows? They melt in the heat and go away on a rainy day. Yeah, yeah, I get it now. Wow, I want to be a potato when I grow up. Tee hee, lemons.

Right, so what I’m trying to say is: this book is insane. I already mentioned that the main character is insane and you know, I won’t take that back. He’s insane and he’s completely unsympathetic. Now, I did my research: the writer Luke Rhinehart (one article I found states that he actually changed his name from George Cockroft (and I’d totally change my name too if it was Cockroft) into Luke Rhinehart to confuse people) actually lives his life by the dice, though I sincerely hope in a less extreme form than this. When you read descriptions of the book it’ll say it deals with rape, murder, drugs and that’s pretty much the essence of it. Again, I’ll only say the main character is insane and I don’t like him and I’ll leave my judgement at that.

The plot didn’t really do much for me and coupled with the annoying female characters, it even made me a bit mad. The writer obviously likes his main character a bit too much (if you really change your name to your character’s, you’re in Canon Stu-territory already) and gives him success after success when he should have been caught and locked up.

In the end, no I probably don’t “get” this book. I never did like the ‘durr durr mah life is boring, gotta do sumfin’ cwazy’-plot and I don’t like that this book apparently feels like all women will willingly have sex with you if you only pressure them enough. I like the writing and I guess that’s about it, ‘cause I’ll give him it’s well-written and it’s even funny. In the end, though, good writing is not enough and the sheer annoyance I feel towards the main character, the plot and the depiction of females makes this book a what-the-f**k more than a good reading experience. If it’s just me who doesn’t “get” it, sorry, but I’m sort of glad that I don’t.

 

 

I, Claudius by Robert Graves

Week 13… was two weeks ago. Currently, I’m on week 15 and entering 16 tomorrow. I SUCK at this challenge at the moment. Anyway. Today I have a bundle deal for you guys – two review for the price of one (plus shipping). And first is ‘I, Claudius’ by Robert Graves. I’ll warn you this review hasn’t been edited, ’cause I’m a lazy bum, and thus it sucks pineapple slices.

Title: Jeg, Claudius
Original title: I, Claudius
By: Robert Graves
Pages: 376
Published by Gyldendal, 1977
First published 1934

From the Autobiography of Tiberius Claudius, Born 10 B.C., Murdered and Deified A.D. 54:
Considered an idiot because of his physical infirmities, Claudius survived the intrigues and poisonings of the reigns of Augustus, Tiberius, and the Mad Caligula to become emperor in 41 A.D. Historical novel set in 1st-century-AD Rome by Robert Graves, published in 1934. The book is written as an autobiographical memoir by Roman emperor Claudius. Physically weak, afflicted with stammering, and inclined to drool, Claudius is an embarrassment to his family and is shunted to the background of imperial affairs. The benefits of his seeming ineffectuality are twofold: he becomes a scholar and historian, and he is spared the worst cruelties inflicted on the imperial family by its own members during the reigns of Augustus, Tiberius, and Caligula. Palace intrigues and murders surround him. Claudius’ informal narration serves to emphasize the banality of the imperial family’s endless greed and lust. The story concludes with Claudius ascending to the imperial throne. A sequel, Claudius, the God and His Wife Messalina (1935), covers Claudius’ years as Roman emperor.

***

Rating on Goodreads: (really liked it)

Right, let’s finally review this. It’s about time, too.

Hey, do you like Romans? Do you like dirtbags? Do you like scandals and pointless cruelty? Then I assure you ‘I, Claudius’ is your kind of book! Wait, don’t leave, it’s not a bad thing. I really, really like it. Right, so maybe I should start from the beginning as opposed to… starting from the end? I don’t know, don’t imagine I know what I’m talking about.

Where was I again? Yeah, writing. As with many a book about ancient Rome or the likes, this book is written like an ancient document. Now, if you’re already used to ancient texts – if you’ve read enough Cicero and Virgil and Seneca that you know the style, this is a treat. It’s done very convincingly, too . Telling the story of Claudius’ life from birth to the day he becomes emperor makes it absolutely necessary to tell in this way, as ancient texts have a way of cramming stunning amounts of information into a book (don’t believe me? Take a look at Homer’s catalogue of ships… right, so don’t do that, it’s not very action packed). I personally love this for the writing style and if you, like me, like a bit of ancient Greek or Roman text, you’re going to love it just as much. That said, it might feel a bit heavy if you’re not used to it, not going to lie. I know I found ‘Sinuhe the Egyptian’ (a book written this same way) rather heavy when I read, and that’s probably because I wasn’t as used to ancient texts (I read them all the friggin’ time now). Keep this in mind and if you’re not used to ancient texts, don’t judge Graves on this.

As for characters, we already know ‘em all. If you don’t know Claudius too well, at least you know his… eh, very special nephew Caligula (you may already know him as ‘that emperor who made his horse a consul’), emperor Augustus, maybe even his wife Livia, and all of their messed up, crazy family, including poor Claudius himself. These are the characters we’re introduced to and while not entirely historically accurate, (I think the source for many stories is Suetonus and he… well, he probably isn’t the best source…) it’s a very interesting, very charming cast of characters. If you’re already interested in Roman emperors and their f**ked up lives, this is a brilliant way to be introduced to them all. They’re brilliantly portrayed and I’m sure they were even more brilliant people in real life.

Plot… you know, this plot has been known for 2000 years so… yeah, how could I criticise it without being a dick? It’s a great plot, plotted by the master of plots: History. Or by Suetonus, but whatever. Suetonus’ stories, I’m sure, are great fun to include, so I’ll just comment on the fun little details Graves adds. Stuff like adding a reason for Ovid being banished and probably tons of other things that I didn’t catch because I’m not actually that clever.

To sum up: This is a great book. If you’re interested in Roman history, definitely give it a shot (beware of stuff based on ancient sources, but enjoy it). It’s well worth a read and I’m definitely looking forward to the second book and to the TV-series based on it.

Also, this is a positive review – that’s why it sucks cherries.

Abarat by Clive Barker

Week 12 and I kind of fail again. I have read this but I should have finished last week. But well, here it is – my review of Abarat of Clive Barker. Ready to find me completely freaked out? Oh, you better be.

Title: Abarat
By: Clive Barker
Pages: 438
Published by Lindhart og Ringhof, 2003,
First published 2002

Candy Quackenbush is a troubled yet good-natured Minnesotan girl, but when she ventures into an empty field one day and meets John Mischief, a creature with seven extra talking heads on his antlers, she’s rendered awestruck and knows she’s bound for a heap of adventure. Soon the two are narrowly escaping a dark hunter sent by the evil Lord Carrion and diving into the Sea of Izabella, a vast ocean containing 25 islands that stand for each hour of the day, plus a mystical Twenty-Fifth Hour. As Candy embarks on her adventure throughout this mind-bending archipelago, she visits the average citizens of Yebba Dim Day, joins a clan of tarrie-cats and slothlike Malingo to battle the dastardly Kaspar Wolfswinkel, and even gets a horrific taste of the Twenty-Fifth Hour itself.

***

Rating on Goodreads: (it was okay)

There are some spoilers in this, so if you plan on reading this, maybe you should leave this for now. The spoilers aren’t very big, though, as there aren’t that many big reveals in this. Anyway – on to the review.

Now, I’m not crazy enough to say that any book would ever drag me into a hellish fantasy land and stab me with a sharpened ruler, but if any book were to do it, I guess this would be it. Let me elaborate…

My overall first impression of this book is that it is weird. Just plain odd. First of all, it’s very heavy because of the paper it’s printed on. Second, I thought it was a children’s book and was surprised at how big it is and (later on) how gritty. Third it’s based on a series of paintings by Barker, paintings that are in the book – I guess it’s supposed to improve the reading experience and to give a certain tone to the story. Personally, I just found them to be in the way (and they sort of embarrassed me when I read this on the bus) and also… they’re a bit disturbing. I’m sorry guys they’re just… they’re creepy. They’re beautiful and all but they’re creepy.

Now, to start talking about writing, the book is already described in heavy detail, and I actually enjoyed the prose more than I did the paintings. If the characters weren’t described that much, the pictures would have been cool, but when they’re already so well described, I don’t need them. I already formed pictures of the characters in my head and I liked my versions better (d’uh, everybody knows the only place I’m truly happy is in my own head).

Also, is it just me, or is the book a bit unaware of its audience? It’s a young adult fantasy book with colourful, childlike (though creepy) images, somehow written in the tone of a children’s book and with some very, very dark details (did I mention the pictures are creepy?). The main character is, I think, around thirteen years old (at least I think she’s in the sixth grade) and she has a father who’s an alcoholic and hits her. That’s… really dark. You pick this book up and the paintings are likely to make you think it’s for kids – heck, that’s what I thought. I’m told this is young adult, but other than the rather grisly details, I don’t feel it – both writing and paintings have a childlike feel to them.

It is a very imaginative fantasy worlds with some truly original ideas and a very unique feel to it. I like the ideas in this and I like the descriptions but that’s pretty much what I like. I don’t care too much for the story, because it seems to have no purpose, other than to set up the next book in the series. I know the whole ‘journey to fnarg and saving the world’ is old, but it has some kind of a goal. The main character in this is just sort of being thrown around and meeting different people and seeing stuff and then fleeing from the Big Bad. It’s cool enough to get around the setting, but it does nothing for me. I like the setting but not enough that I want to read the next book in the series. Sorry.

The characters are likeable enough, I will say. They’re mostly weird creatures that are very imaginative, but they don’t have much in the way of personality. The main character is a bland Chosen One-type of character and while I just regretted this is not a typical journeyish story, I would not regret if the main character wasn’t some kind of ‘Chosen One’. I don’t like Chosen Ones. The last book I read with a super spechul Chosen One was friggin’ Marked, and the less said about that travesty, the better. While this main character, Candy, is less annoying than Zoey Redbird, it’s because she’s bland, not because she’s more interesting. The side characters are the most fun – even the villains happen to be quite good fun. Their designs are cool and they have more depth than Candy. Nothing stands out much, though, which is a shame – this fantasy world has a lot of potential.

In the end, what really made me dislike this the most was the – if you ask me – unnecessary grittiness of this. When I’m saying that the fantasy world has potential, I mean that I had a potential to enjoy this, but Barker wouldn’t friggin’ let me. He showed me this amazing world and then he slapped me in the face with gems like a dragon vomiting over a ship as a sort of attack and the Big Bad thinking he’s going to fall in love with the main character who is flipping thirteen. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? This is such a dark, cruel story, and while fantasy worlds aren’t necessarily all light and happy, at least give me something nice to hold on to! I want to experience a beautiful world, not to read about paedophilia and vomiting dragons. It’s like this book is so mean spirited, so needlessly cruel. One second it’s funny animals with ladders for legs (I quite liked that one) and tarrie-cats, the next it was peeing octopodes and dead tarrie-cats and vomiting dragons (and I did not make a word of this up, honest to Austen I didn’t).

I didn’t hate this book; I just didn’t like it all that much. The two stars are for funny descriptions and the ladder-leg-thingy (seriously, how cool was that thing and he only mentioned it once) and an original fantasy world. If there’d been a good story and characters that lived up to the setting, it might have been better. But most of all, I’d like to not be bombarded with vomiting dragons, thank you very much.

I like the ladder legs thingy, though. Did I mention?

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke – I Fail

Week 11 and I fail. How much do I fail? Enough that we’re actually in week 12 and I’ve decided to give up on a book and I’m dragging my way through the next. I decided not to finish Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell as it’s not humanly possible (for me) to do it within a week. Here is a short description of why (this is not a full review and the rating only reflects how I’m not able to finish it).

Title: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell
By: Susanna Clarke
Pages: 769
Published by Gyldendal, 2005
First published 2005

Centuries ago, when magic still existed in England, the greatest magician of them all was the Raven King. A human child brought up by fairies, the Raven King blended fairy wisdom and human reason to create English magic. Now, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, he is barely more than a legend, and England, with its mad King and its dashing poets, no longer believes in practical magic.

Then the reclusive Mr Norrell of Hurtfew Abbey appears and causes the statues of York Cathedral to speak and move. News spreads of the return of magic to England and, persuaded that he must help the government in the war against Napoleon, Mr Norrell goes to London. There he meets a brilliant young magician and takes him as a pupil. Jonathan Strange is charming, rich and arrogant. Together, they dazzle the country with their feats.

But the partnership soon turns to rivalry. Mr Norrell has never conquered his lifelong habits of secrecy, while Strange will always be attracted to the wildest, most perilous magic. He becomes fascinated by the shadowy figure of the Raven King, and his heedless pursuit of long-forgotten magic threatens, not only his partnership with Norrell, but everything that he holds dear.

***

Rating on Goodreads: (it was okay)

Nope, can’t do it. I won’t be able to finish this within any foreseeable future. There are many reasons for this but mainly, I think, it’s because the story doesn’t draw me in as much as I’d like.

I want to like this – I know it’s supposed to be brilliant and as far as writing, characters, and plot are concerned, it’s not a disappointment – I just can’t finish it. The rating of two start reflect my inability to finish it. I read about halfway through and I just don’t feel that urge to press on. The plot, while good, just isn’t very interesting to me. There is a lot of story going on and a lot of plot lines and I can’t help but feeling that while these stories are okay, this could have been much shorter (though, take that with a grain of salt – I haven’t actually finished it).

Really, this is not a bad book, this even had moments where I almost felt compelled to read on and on and the book is very funny in a dry, ironic sort of way, but I just couldn’t finish and so far – no, I’m not going to finish this. It’s going to go on my list for next year (the half that I haven’t read, at least) and I’ll see if I’ll be able to kill it by then.

I’m really disappointed in myself (I finished Marked but I couldn’t finish this, which was supposed to be brilliant? Stupid me) but alas – what can I do? I’m going to be way behind schedule and I have some books of 4-500 pages ahead of me. Sorry, guys. And sorry to my own perfectionism which is going to beat me with a stick.

Morning, Noon & Night by Sidney Sheldon

Week 10 and I’m so much ahead of schedule, I’ve read an entire book that I wasn’t even supposed to read this week (but that’s for another day and for my new idea: Bad Book Bonus (more on that later this week)) because this was an easy read. Ready for this? Let’s go…

Title: Morning, Noon & Night
By: Sidney Sheldon
Pages: 368
Published by HarperCollins, 1996
First published 1995

The Stanford family is one of the most respected in America – but behind the façade of fame and glamour lies a hidden web of blackmail, drugs and murder…

When Harry Stanford, one of the wealthiest men in the world, mysteriously drowns while cruising on his yacth off the rugged coast of Corsica, it sets off a chain of events that reverberates around the globe.

At the family gathering following the funural in Boston, a strikingly beautiful young woman appears. She claims to be Stanford’s daughter and entitled to a share of the tycoon’s estate. Is she genuine, or is she an imposter?

Sweeping from the splendours of the Italian Riviera, to the fashion salons of Paris and New York, and the élite opulence of Boston and Florida, Morning, Noon & Night twists and turns its way through intrigue, smoke and mirrors to a surprise ending you’ll never forget…

***

Rating on Goodreads:  (it was okay)

This leaves me with the exact same feeling books by Mary Higgins Clark do. The plot is chuck full of twists, it’s an easy read and the characters don’t really matter that much. It’s a somewhat entertaining yet pretty forgettable read.

The writing is very matter-of-fact. Very little description is used and when it is, it’s forgettable and not really worth mentioning. At first the writer seemed to be going for a style with a mixture of present and past, but he soon forget and it was a bit of a shame – it could have worked with longer paragraphs (he does have a problem with very short paragraphs and though it eases the reading experience, it also prevents much depth in characters, emotion, etc.). Generally the book is split into three parts: Morning, Noon, and Night, and thus we have the title. It’s a clever idea, I guess, and there’s some symbolical meaning to this division but the cleverness of the division just vanishes into my mehs and it feels like Sheldon was trying too hard (I’m trying too hard not to think of the Big Bang Theory).

When it comes to the characters, they don’t really do anything for me. They’re not bad, some are likeable, even interesting, and there’s a tacked-on romance subplot that’s kind of cute – the chemistry between the two romantically interested characters, at least, is present. Yet, for most of the “cast” I can honestly say I don’t care for them. I don’t hate them either. They’re just there. Some are okay, some are boring and/or offensive stereotypes (I won’t spoil the story, but the revealed bad guy I find to be kind of offensive, whether this was actually the writer’s intention or not).

And then we’re down to the plot, which is kind of like this whole experience: meh. Everything about it is meh. It’s your typical wealthy father with kids fighting over inheritance and the inevitable illegitimate daughter thrown in. There are surprising twists in there, but they’re revealed with such a big ‘meh’ that they don’t really matter. The last and final twist is predictable and as previously mentioned: the reveal of the big bad (which is actually in the middle of the book) is offensive and a cruel stereotype.
In the end, what all books need is a drive, some reason that this story needs to be told, that these characters need to meet and interact rather than any other story and all other characters – and I can’t find that reason in Morning, Noon and Night. This could have been any story with any cast of characters. It’s not good, it’s not bad, it’s just a book. You could finish it in about five hours or so with little to no effort and with some enjoyment. Is it worth it? Well, if you have five hours to waste, do it, you’ll be well enough entertained and it’s easy to read (nice read for a road trip or something, I think). If not, just give it a pass – you won’t miss out on much.

‘Marked’ by P. C. Cast and Kristin Cast

Week 9! I’m ahead of schedule again because I couldn’t put this book down. Why, Louise? Do you like it very much? No, I didn’t, hypothetical curious person. Quite the contrary. But, Louise, why did you keep reading, then? Why, because I’m a massive bitch, of course! And let’s see just how bitchy I can get. Here we go: House of Night #1 – ‘Marked’!

Title: Vampyrens mærke
Original title: Marked
By: P. C. Cast and Kristin Cast
Pages: 268
Published by Tellerup, 2010
First published 2007

The House of Night series is set in a world very much like our own, except in 16-year-old Zoey Redbird’s world, vampyres have always existed.  In this first book in the series, Zoey enters the House of Night, a school where, after having undergone the Change, she will train to become an adult vampire — that is, if she makes it through the Change.  Not all of those who are chosen do.  It’s tough to begin a new life, away from her parents and friends, and on top of that, Zoey finds she is no average fledgling.  She has been Marked as special by the vampyre Goddess, Nyx.  But she is not the only fledgling at the House of Night with special powers.  When she discovers that the leader of the Dark Daughters, the school’s most elite club, is misusing her Goddess-given gifts, Zoey must look deep within herself for the courage to embrace her destiny–with a little help from her new vampyre friends.

***

Rating on Goodreads:

Where do I start? Oh, where to start?

Right now, I’m at my best. I’m loving this. If this book was a pool, I’d be diving in it, relishing the murky, disgusting waters of its writing. If this was a fine champagne, an expensive wine, an aged whisky, I’d be drunk with it and probably dead from alcohol poisoning and it wouldn’t exactly be Champagne, more like cheap beer.
Because it’s so bad. Excuse me while I imitate Gollum: My precioussss! We loves it! It hurtsss usss, but we lovesss it, Preciousss!

*Cough* Right, my never-ending joy at this book aside, let’s start from the beginning. I like to start out reviews by talking about writing.
Well, first of all bear in mind that I read this in the most dreadful Danish translation and if you, like me, enjoy bad books, pick it up in Tellerup’s Danish translation because it really enhances the reading experience. Feel like the dialogue is practically unreadable already? Well, try reading through the Danish translation and marvel at expressions that have never, ever been used by anyone in real life (without bursting with laughter anyway) (for you Danish people out there, my favourite is ’pølsesnak’).
It’s unbearable as it is. The maincharacter has to put the narrative to a halt every two second to tell us how disgusting something is, how bad drugs are or how wrong blowjobs are because it’s exploitation of women (feel like there’s a fourteen year old fan fic writer aboard yet? No? Well, wait and see)…
As for description, at first it felt like the characters were walking around in a vacuum because nothing was described (in these cases, my brain likes to fill in schools, houses etc. from my childhood so this book literally soiled my childhood – okay, not literally but shut up) and then when our ‘protagonist’ (in the widest sense possible) goes to her vampire school (sorry, vampyre school) it all goes ‘BOOM’ and explodes in a hurricane of colours. Everything is described in such a sense as to make the settings look like toystores and the characters like dolls in my head. For similar effect, try reading ‘My Immortal’.
Don’t get me started on the name dropping. I’m getting to the extensive rape of Greek names and mythology later.

Right, so, plot. You know that thing where writers spend some time easing the reader into the setting, the world and the mechanics of the world’s magic so as to make readers give a crap what happens to the characters? The Casts don’t bother. The reader is thrown into the “action” (in the widest sense you can ever imagine) with Zoey becoming a vampyre (fun fact: the Casts really spell it this way in the English version (you can’t do that in Danish without me slapping you in the face so luckily they didn’t try) and nature finds it so offensive that my spell check immediately tried to change it… yes, spell check is nature, shut up) and before that, the only introduction to her we have is her talking to her ‘best (dispensable) friend’ (in the widest sen… oh, who am I kidding?) and we literally only hear her whining and complaining before she is suddenly – bang – marked with the Mark of the vampyres (can we just spell it differently? No? Damn you, Casts…) No build-up, no characterisation, no nothing. If two pages had gone by and Zoey, our main character, had suddenly died violently in a house fire, I wouldn’t give a f**k.
The plot takes place over about five days to a week – no, I am not kidding you, I kept track – and in that time, Zoey manages to get four new bestest friends, becoming the most spechulest student evar and get a smoking hot, shallow boyfriend (did I mention he’s superhot and it’s twue wuv at first sight?)
And yes, that brings us to the big one: Characters and characterisation or, as is the case with this book, lack thereof.

I already told you how our main character Zoey makes Bella Swan look cheery, how she manages to find four besties in a matter of days and same for a boyfriend who’s, liek super duper hot. During the book, you see the story trying to make an attempt at characterising her friends: there are the “twins” who are characterised by their having no personality, there’s the country girl who’s characterised by being a massive, offensive stereotype and the… eh, smart… gay… guy who’s characterised by… being smart… and gay, but totally not a flamboyant gay. The gay guy is smart… because… he uses… difficult words… screw you, Casts! He isn’t smart! He does nothing smart. He just uses words the others don’t know (except the main character – she’s spechul) and bonus points when the words are of ancient Greek origin.
Must. Not. Rant. About. Usage. Of ancient Greek. Names. Yet…
Protagonist!
Zoey Redbird. Zoey Redbird. How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways:
She’s whiny and annoying, she’s one big, whopping double standard on legs. She’s the Goddess Nyx’ (Greek. Names… *throws vase* MOVING ON!) spechul chosen one, she has super duper spechul powers that are the most powerful ever, her name is ancient Greek for life (*throws tantrum*) and everybody – except the super duper evul Aphrodite (lksajf094u3408t6u03) and her evil, Greek named buddies – just luuuuurves her, because she’s so special. Because at some point, you see, she proves her worth by… by… SHE DOESN’T! All her ‘accomplishments’ are super duper spechul vampyre powers given to her by the goddess whose name I won’t mention as my apartment is already messy as it is. She does nothing on her own account: She stumbles on to solutions or has this spechul ‘intuition’ that tells her what to do.
The first time she meets her boyfriend, they share a look (when they first lock eyes he’s currently in the process of denying a blowjob from Aphrodite – I do not make this shit up) and Zoey just knows they’re MEANT TO BE (notice how the Caps Lock and lolcat speak is accelerating as I get angry? Very interesting) because he, you see, is characterised by being super hot, having ‘Super Man curls’ (not making shit up) and being VERY GEEKY because he can QUOTE STAR WARS (*indistinguishable sobbing and begging*) That’s all they are: She, queen Zoey of Canon Sueiness and he the pretty face and non-geek, because fuck you, he’s not a geek.

Right, so, basically: if I didn’t make it clear enough: Canon Sue goes to Hogw… sorry, House of Night,and meets Edw… sorry, Erik Night, gets four shallow/stereotyped friends, is the favourite of female Dumbl… sorry, Neferet, the high priestess, get’s super spechul elemental powers by the Heart of Kandrakar because Lord Voldemort killed her pare… no, I’m somehow mixing things up. If I am, it’s because this book is like the devil spawn between Twilight and bad Harry Potter fanfiction that’s mated with the later issues of the teen magazine, W.I.T.C.H.
But oh, I’m not done yet, the worst of this is yet to come. I do believe I can sum it up in about eight pages, so do go get yourself a cup of tea and a biscuit – this might take a while…

YOU ARE NOT SMART BECAUSE YOU CAN NAME PLAYS AND CHARACTERS BY SHAKESPEARE! You are not super duper special as a writer, because you know how to look ancient Greek myths up on Wikipedia and name your characters after them and then blatantly state what they mean and why these characters then are super duper evil because they names themselves after the sisters of the Gorgons!! You’re really, really not. You’re not clever because you know what f**king hubris is. You’re not great because you know how to rape several mythologies at the same time by having characters named for Greek mythology attending Samhain having just spoking to Neferet named after after some Egyptian thingy and having the Goddess Nyx be somehow connected to native Indian mythology. You’re not clever and you couldn’t even be bothered to get your shit wrong so that I could correct you and be even happier, now could you?!

My, that was cathartic (see what I did there? I’m super smart because I know a weird word, though not really) and I can only recommend this book if you’re a writer (though if you’re already mentally unstable, probably not) because it is Shitty Writing, Shallow Characters and Name Dropping 101. You read this, you will forever know what NOT to do when writing. You might lose about 80 % of your brain cells in the process of continually banging your head into whatever’s nearby (85 % if you choose the Danish translation) but it’s worth it. What little brain power I have left, I’ll use to not ever write like the Casts.