laedyred's reviews
280 reviews

How the fuck is this book so highly regarded. This reads like a 15 year old's fanfiction, and that's an insult to fanfiction that's better written than this. I give half a star for a creative world idea, but come on. It's trying to be dark and edgy but it makes my eye twitch.

Things just happen for the sake of happening. Plot points come out of nowhere, constantly making the reader double take and ask, "what the fuck?". It seems there was no pre-planning for the plot, given how random events are and how easily problems are solved. There's no tension.

Elspeth is a self insert with no personality to relate to. Her relationship with Ravyn has no basis or justification; they have no chemistry. He falls for her the day they meet, hopelessly obsessed. There's no slow burn here; don't expect a passionate relationship. Ravyn has grey eyes and he's tall. That's it. 

Side characters exist with one gimmicky trait in place of spending any time actually showing the reader character growth. Ione is such a throwaway character completely there to help Elsepeth because Gillig needed a convenient out for a problem.

Somehow 400 pages slipped by and it feels like nothing meaningful actually occurred. What am I missing? Why do people love this? What a disappointment.

Unfortunately I don't think this sequel quite holds up to the first book. However, I'm happy with it as an end to the Oraya/Raihn duology. Oraya's journey to learn to accept love is a bit trite, but the complex relationship to her father gives it enough depth to mean something beyond how this trope is usually played out. Raihn's perspective is jarring at first but settles in nicely, adding a lot in the end. His slow realization that he actually did not save anyone and in fact made others carry the consequences of his actions when he thought he was being heroic was...refreshing. A man called out for being shitty in a way I didn't entirely realize until a conversation between he and Mische - satisfying. That's what women should be reading about, not these hyper masculine, (mildly or horribly) abusive love interests who are made to seem like the perfect man and partner. Oraya and Raihn's mental journey back to each other doesn't feel forced as a way to create more tension; their break in intimacy feels earned.

There are a couple of plot points I have a problem with. The main goal, the driver of the story, sort of comes out of nowhere. It's almost retroactively established, being related to Vincent but never talked about before. It's too convenient. Throughout the adventure, Oraya and Raihn have a few too many "lucky" experiences. Especially the ending, where

a god that's never granted a bond grants a bond for no real reason other than pity. It feels cheap.

 

That said, I did fly through this book and would gladly read another with Oraya and Raihn. A solid read.

When I started this book, it seemed like I might be hopping into a copy of Hunger Games or Cruel Prince - I'm very glad I was wrong. Oraya's character is complex and I like that she doesn't suffer from "virgin syndrome", where her (very experienced) love interest is responsible for her basically growing up (obviously not just sexually). Raihn is a good complement to her, and that's all he should be. I like that he has threads of what might be (gasp) feminist ideas in him. Oraya's relationship to Vincent properly creates drama; there are more layers than just a man who's harsh to protect his daughter. 

Broadbent's world is unique enough while playing on the common tropes of vampires. The tension between Oraya and Raihn feels real, more than the forced will they or won't they perpetrating many novels like this. And let's be honest, the smut scenes are pretty solid.

The quote on the cover of my copy says it the best; this book is a love letter to the natural world. It offers a strange comfort even when facing the brutal reality of how badly overconsumption and greed has destroyed the world. It inspires heartbreak and a deep sadness, but Wall-Kimmerer points to the beginning of healing. 

I do have a few pains in this book. There is an undertone of not-quite-sexism in one aspect: women are life-bringers, but what about those who choose not to participate? Women are upheld, but it seems their value is only rooted in giving birth. Wall-Kimmerer shares her parenting experience but fails to acknowledge women who aren't parents. This bothered me a lot. 

The book drags a bit. Although I see why each chapter is included and agree with the messages, I did find myself thinking, "okey, we get it. Move on," at some points. Wall-Kimmerer gets cocky and holier-than-thou at times, disregarding the circumstances of individuals' lives and painting those not fully engrossed in her world view as sad and pathetic. 

I see how she goes too far here; it is not based on hate but an attempt to force the reader to perspective. In many ways, it works. This book gave me a new way to think about the continent I was born on; a continent with a government I dislike. A reconnection with nature may be the cure to feelings of displacement. 

Despite its issues, I hold this book in high regard. It introduced me to a lot of valuable ideas that I continue to ruminate on. I appreciate the work and recommend it to probably everyone. Maybe a love letter to nature is exactly what we all need to read.

Why did I bother to read the second book? I don't understand the hype with this series. Wendel is a gross jerk, Emily's supposed to be this strong woman but acts stupidly just to create a plot point, everything is convenient, and to top it off, the sex scene comes out of nowhere in a relationship that's unequal as hell. I'm giving up on this trilogy. 

This is a book that kept me intrigued by the messiness and mystery, but that I immediately forgot about after reading. I liked the concept of the unnamed disease and moment of realization that the narrator is unreliable. There's a pervasive idea of how we choose to live in ignorance in order to experience happiness with those we love. 

Unfortunately I don't have much else to say about this book. 

The motto of my review is: great writing, moderate everything else. Reilly has skill in writing from two characters' brains and convincing us it really is two different people. Most of the characters are lovable with distinct and complex personalities. 

My complaints are more about the plot (or lack of one) and some additions. Mainly, nothing happens. A slice of life novel doesn't need a riveting storyline with fast paced adventure, but it does need to say something about the world or about life. I couldn't find a message, and finished the book wondering why it was written. What did Reilly want the reader to think, or know, or experience? 

The communication between characters. The tension is dissolved immediately when I know the problem will be solved by the next page. The book is supposed to be a slice of life, but ignores the complexity of relationships. It's unrealistic in an unintended way. 

My biggest gripe with this, the one that lowered my rating significantly, is the fetishizing and rudeness to other nationalities. Reilly casually sexualizes or bashes several other countries; it's not "asshole characters" saying these things. I'm sick of reading gross fantasies like this. 

I don't know if I'd recommend this book. I wouldn't bring it up myself but would say, "yeah, it was fine." A read I enjoyed but didn't savor.

The faerie world in this book reminded me of Holly Black's "The Cruel Prince". Fawcette chooses the version of mischievous fae, unruly and clever fae. The town she creates adjacent to the faerie realm is homey; residents are sweet. There is something alluring about the setup, a field researcher's relationship to myth. Unfortunately, I also see a few glaring weaknesses.

Can we please end this trope of unexperienced, aloof woman falling for an egotistical, lazy, sexually promiscuous man who "shows her new things" she's perfectly capable of doing herself. Wendell has no redeeming qualities. I see no reason for Emily falling for him other than their having spent so much time together in close proximity. He's rude and disrespectful to her. We're supposed to pity him for having to leave his home, yet I rooted against him constantly. He claims to love her yet flirts with other women (in front of her, of course) and brings back unnamed women to their shared cabin to sleep with and abandon. He's a jerk.

Where's my Emily-Finn relationship.

How am I supposed to like him at all? He's problematic, to say the least.

Things work out too well, too easily. Some predicaments are too convenient; like Fawcette had a scene she wanted to write but didn't know how to get the character into that situation, so she made it just...happen. Someone is always there to save the day at exactly the time they need to be there. Fawcette is a master of "tell, not show", quite literally explaining every discovery or situation as if she doubts the reader's intelligence and ability to make connections. 

Emily herself rides this line of almost being interesting, but then reverts to helpless and trope-like. Her objectivity is supposed to differentiate her from other protagonists; Fawcette tries to show us how brutal she can be for science. But she just isn't. She has a thought or two about being selfish, about the discoveries to be made, then immediately shows a conscience because we can't have a female character too harsh. 

I wanted to like this more. There is so much praise for this novel and I just didn't feel it. I am tempted to read the next book to see if any of these things are remedied, but I can't say I have high hopes for a change of heart. This books sits solidly in the mid for me; I enjoyed it, but it's good, not great.

A cute introduction to Taoism that uses layman's terms in an easily-understandable way. However, I have some problems with it. The author is clearly bogged down by some antiquated ideas (even for the 80s) that made me question his knowledge and experience in most things outside Taoism and east Asian historic culture. For once, he insists on there being an "independent study" validating the 200+ year lifespan of Li Chung Yun"; this is obviously false and has been debunked as a myth for a long time. He claims Thomas Edison was a prodigy, when in reality he stole inventions and ideas from others. Hoff makes an offhand comment about nuclear power that suggests his opposition is uneducated. This is part of his lecture on how science is useless in the grand scheme of things. I do not agree. Abstract thinking can most definitely take someone out of the moment and cause stress, create issues, and wear people down in the quest for something that might not exist. But science as a whole is beneficial, it has remedied situations that arguably were not created by humans in the first place. 

If Hoff left his personal views of out the text, it would receive a higher rating. That being said, I do appreciate its simplicity in meeting its claim: to explain Taoism through an adorable little bear. 

I don't think I've ever felt so seen by a character with the same troubles of anxiety, empathy, and depression. The main character exudes kindness and thus gets herself into all sorts of trouble. Her calmness about her struggles from the outside mixed with her clear inner turmoil is both heartbreaking and hilarious, given Austin's writing style. 

It's refreshing to see a healthy relationship (temporarily hindered by Gilda's poor actions from anxiety); Eleanor is a supportive partner and is able to recognize Gilda's struggles. 

Most characters are charming in their own way. Austin shows how people with beliefs that clearly differ from her own have their own struggles, without disregarding their objectively incorrect actions. 

I appreciate the ending,

where we don't see some big event of everyone in Gilda's life forgiving her.

There's a finality to it that marks her progress in a meaningful way. Highly recommend this book, I blew through and thoroughly enjoyed it.