Bibliography
Aug. 2nd, 2014 07:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_lady_lilyIron Hand - Charlie Fletcher
The second in the Stoneheart trilogy for young adults, which I mainly read for the Minotaur but now have to read because of knowing how it ends if I'm going to write about it. And guess what? Some of the stuff I thought about the depiction of the Minotaur turns out to be true, because the plot brings in the Icarus statue, made by the same sculptor (Michael Ayrton), who becomes even more distraught at the death of his 'brother' because now nobody understands what it is to be half-spit, half-taint! I was well impressed at myself. But there we are.
As far as the plot goes, we now get a dose of time travel through mirrors, the Walker becomes increasingly unhinged and preparing for world-shattering exploits of silliness, George has to fight battles to stop his identity as a maker killing him, Edie very nearly comes to a sticky end on several occasions... it's all generally quite gripping and well-written, so I'm not begrudging the third book a read at all. In fact, I'm recommending the series to those with reading children of the right sort of age - it's really quite gripping.
Enemies at Home - Lindsey Davis
The second Albia book. I'm going to write a bit more about this over at the prof!blog, in tandem with the first one, but I suspect there's something of the settling in going on here - Davis doesn't quite feel as if she's fully inhabiting the character. There are various reasons for this, not least the fact that Albia is in some ways a wish-fulfilment job (the character Davis wishes she could have written but ended up with Falco), which is not necessarily a bad thing but does lead to the risk of Mary-Sue-ing. Now, I don't think that's happened, but I do think that there's a good deal of work going into getting Albia's voice right, and that process is still settling down. But that's fine - it was an interesting read and turned the plot spotlight on the reality of slave ownership in a particularly interesting way. Plus the heavy hand of Domitian was always in the background... I wonder how much longer it's going to be before it descends.
The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Something of a binge read over the last few days, this, as the local library wants it back (apparently 'reserved for another borrower' or some such nonsense). Given it's nearly 800 pages, that was quite an impressive feat, but I managed it.
About 300 pages in, I was thinking that while the writing was luscious, I wasn't sure how I was going to manage to get through the rest of it. The answer was in fits and starts. The thing is, Tartt builds a beautiful world around a boy's traumatic life event and his accidental acquisition of
The second in the Stoneheart trilogy for young adults, which I mainly read for the Minotaur but now have to read because of knowing how it ends if I'm going to write about it. And guess what? Some of the stuff I thought about the depiction of the Minotaur turns out to be true, because the plot brings in the Icarus statue, made by the same sculptor (Michael Ayrton), who becomes even more distraught at the death of his 'brother' because now nobody understands what it is to be half-spit, half-taint! I was well impressed at myself. But there we are.
As far as the plot goes, we now get a dose of time travel through mirrors, the Walker becomes increasingly unhinged and preparing for world-shattering exploits of silliness, George has to fight battles to stop his identity as a maker killing him, Edie very nearly comes to a sticky end on several occasions... it's all generally quite gripping and well-written, so I'm not begrudging the third book a read at all. In fact, I'm recommending the series to those with reading children of the right sort of age - it's really quite gripping.
Enemies at Home - Lindsey Davis
The second Albia book. I'm going to write a bit more about this over at the prof!blog, in tandem with the first one, but I suspect there's something of the settling in going on here - Davis doesn't quite feel as if she's fully inhabiting the character. There are various reasons for this, not least the fact that Albia is in some ways a wish-fulfilment job (the character Davis wishes she could have written but ended up with Falco), which is not necessarily a bad thing but does lead to the risk of Mary-Sue-ing. Now, I don't think that's happened, but I do think that there's a good deal of work going into getting Albia's voice right, and that process is still settling down. But that's fine - it was an interesting read and turned the plot spotlight on the reality of slave ownership in a particularly interesting way. Plus the heavy hand of Domitian was always in the background... I wonder how much longer it's going to be before it descends.
The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Something of a binge read over the last few days, this, as the local library wants it back (apparently 'reserved for another borrower' or some such nonsense). Given it's nearly 800 pages, that was quite an impressive feat, but I managed it.
About 300 pages in, I was thinking that while the writing was luscious, I wasn't sure how I was going to manage to get through the rest of it. The answer was in fits and starts. The thing is, Tartt builds a beautiful world around a boy's traumatic life event and his accidental acquisition of
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<lj-cut text="40 - Iron Hand - Charlie Fletcher"><b>Iron Hand - Charlie Fletcher</b>
The second in the <I>Stoneheart</I> trilogy for young adults, which I mainly read for the Minotaur but now have to read because of knowing how it ends if I'm going to write about it. And guess what? Some of the stuff I thought about the depiction of the Minotaur turns out to be true, because the plot brings in the Icarus statue, made by the same sculptor (Michael Ayrton), who becomes even more distraught at the death of his 'brother' because now nobody understands what it is to be half-spit, half-taint! I was well impressed at myself. But there we are.
As far as the plot goes, we now get a dose of time travel through mirrors, the Walker becomes increasingly unhinged and preparing for world-shattering exploits of silliness, George has to fight battles to stop his identity as a maker killing him, Edie very nearly comes to a sticky end on several occasions... it's all generally quite gripping and well-written, so I'm not begrudging the third book a read at all. In fact, I'm recommending the series to those with reading children of the right sort of age - it's really quite gripping.</lj-cut>
<lj-cut text="41 - Enemies at Home - Lindsey Davis"><b>Enemies at Home - Lindsey Davis</b>
The second Albia book. I'm going to write a bit more about this over at the prof!blog, in tandem with the first one, but I suspect there's something of the settling in going on here - Davis doesn't quite feel as if she's fully inhabiting the character. There are various reasons for this, not least the fact that Albia is in some ways a wish-fulfilment job (the character Davis wishes she could have written but ended up with Falco), which is not necessarily a bad thing but does lead to the risk of Mary-Sue-ing. Now, I don't think that's happened, but I do think that there's a good deal of work going into getting Albia's voice right, and that process is still settling down. But that's fine - it was an interesting read and turned the plot spotlight on the reality of slave ownership in a particularly interesting way. Plus the heavy hand of Domitian was always in the background... I wonder how much longer it's going to be before it descends.</lj-cut>
<lj-cut text="42 - The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt"><b>The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt</b>
Something of a binge read over the last few days, this, as the local library wants it back (apparently 'reserved for another borrower' or some such nonsense). Given it's nearly 800 pages, that was quite an impressive feat, but I managed it.
About 300 pages in, I was thinking that while the writing was luscious, I wasn't sure how I was going to manage to get through the rest of it. The answer was in fits and starts. The thing is, Tartt builds a beautiful world around a boy's traumatic life event and his accidental acquisition of <a href="http://www.frick.org/exhibitions/mauritshuis/605"an incredibly important piece of art</a>. It is, in part, a study of trauma; it is also a study of being trapped and confined, like the little bird in the painting chained to a hoop in the wall, through various means and mechanisms. It's also a remarkably accurate representation of the state of anxiety, although how the verity stands up when you add in the drug abuse and alcohol coping mechanism, I couldn't say.
However, the plot sags, particularly around the middle third or so; it does pick up, but you're carried along by the swell of the writing rather than the action or a particular interest in the characters, I think. I seem to remember curt comments about the need for an editor when it was first released, and I think those are fair. Tartt does an excellent job of world-building and descriptiveness, and it's deceptively easy to get drawn into those passages and then pulled in further. But we could have sped up a bit.
I'm not entirely comfortable with the book's general attitude to class and gender either, although I do see the point (as it were) - there's a whole other level of exploration going on about class and art and culture and access and privilege and inherited money and so forth, which... yeah. I'm not entirely sure is as well thought-out as it could be. I suspect I will have more to say on this once I have dwelled on it a bit more, but something doesn't quite fit - not least because the women of the novel all feel... well. Let us say that the narrator has a surprisingly instrumental relationship with them. Arguably this might be because he loses his mother early in the plot... but yes. I'm not wholly sold.
The second in the <I>Stoneheart</I> trilogy for young adults, which I mainly read for the Minotaur but now have to read because of knowing how it ends if I'm going to write about it. And guess what? Some of the stuff I thought about the depiction of the Minotaur turns out to be true, because the plot brings in the Icarus statue, made by the same sculptor (Michael Ayrton), who becomes even more distraught at the death of his 'brother' because now nobody understands what it is to be half-spit, half-taint! I was well impressed at myself. But there we are.
As far as the plot goes, we now get a dose of time travel through mirrors, the Walker becomes increasingly unhinged and preparing for world-shattering exploits of silliness, George has to fight battles to stop his identity as a maker killing him, Edie very nearly comes to a sticky end on several occasions... it's all generally quite gripping and well-written, so I'm not begrudging the third book a read at all. In fact, I'm recommending the series to those with reading children of the right sort of age - it's really quite gripping.</lj-cut>
<lj-cut text="41 - Enemies at Home - Lindsey Davis"><b>Enemies at Home - Lindsey Davis</b>
The second Albia book. I'm going to write a bit more about this over at the prof!blog, in tandem with the first one, but I suspect there's something of the settling in going on here - Davis doesn't quite feel as if she's fully inhabiting the character. There are various reasons for this, not least the fact that Albia is in some ways a wish-fulfilment job (the character Davis wishes she could have written but ended up with Falco), which is not necessarily a bad thing but does lead to the risk of Mary-Sue-ing. Now, I don't think that's happened, but I do think that there's a good deal of work going into getting Albia's voice right, and that process is still settling down. But that's fine - it was an interesting read and turned the plot spotlight on the reality of slave ownership in a particularly interesting way. Plus the heavy hand of Domitian was always in the background... I wonder how much longer it's going to be before it descends.</lj-cut>
<lj-cut text="42 - The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt"><b>The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt</b>
Something of a binge read over the last few days, this, as the local library wants it back (apparently 'reserved for another borrower' or some such nonsense). Given it's nearly 800 pages, that was quite an impressive feat, but I managed it.
About 300 pages in, I was thinking that while the writing was luscious, I wasn't sure how I was going to manage to get through the rest of it. The answer was in fits and starts. The thing is, Tartt builds a beautiful world around a boy's traumatic life event and his accidental acquisition of <a href="http://www.frick.org/exhibitions/mauritshuis/605"an incredibly important piece of art</a>. It is, in part, a study of trauma; it is also a study of being trapped and confined, like the little bird in the painting chained to a hoop in the wall, through various means and mechanisms. It's also a remarkably accurate representation of the state of anxiety, although how the verity stands up when you add in the drug abuse and alcohol coping mechanism, I couldn't say.
However, the plot sags, particularly around the middle third or so; it does pick up, but you're carried along by the swell of the writing rather than the action or a particular interest in the characters, I think. I seem to remember curt comments about the need for an editor when it was first released, and I think those are fair. Tartt does an excellent job of world-building and descriptiveness, and it's deceptively easy to get drawn into those passages and then pulled in further. But we could have sped up a bit.
I'm not entirely comfortable with the book's general attitude to class and gender either, although I do see the point (as it were) - there's a whole other level of exploration going on about class and art and culture and access and privilege and inherited money and so forth, which... yeah. I'm not entirely sure is as well thought-out as it could be. I suspect I will have more to say on this once I have dwelled on it a bit more, but something doesn't quite fit - not least because the women of the novel all feel... well. Let us say that the narrator has a surprisingly instrumental relationship with them. Arguably this might be because he loses his mother early in the plot... but yes. I'm not wholly sold.
