The Poisoner's Handbook by Deborah Blum Review

Deborah Blum, writing with the high style and skill for suspense that is characteristic of the very best mystery fiction, shares the untold story of how poison rocked Jazz Age New York City. In The Poisoner's Handbook Blum draws from highly original research to track the fascinating, perilous days when a pair of forensic scientists began their trailblazing chemical detective work, fighting to end an era when untraceable poisons offered an easy path to the perfect crime. 

Drama unfolds case by case as the heroes of The Poisoner's Handbook—chief medical examiner Charles Norris and toxicologist Alexander Gettler—investigate a family mysteriously stricken bald, Barnum and Bailey's Famous Blue Man, factory workers with crumbling bones, a diner serving poisoned pies, and many others. Each case presents a deadly new puzzle and Norris and Gettler work with a creativity that rivals that of the most imaginative murderer, creating revolutionary experiments to tease out even the wiliest compounds from human tissue. Yet in the tricky game of toxins, even science can't always be trusted, as proven when one of Gettler's experiments erroneously sets free a suburban housewife later nicknamed "America's Lucretia Borgia" to continue her nefarious work. 

From the vantage of Norris and Gettler's laboratory in the infamous Bellevue Hospital it becomes clear that killers aren't the only toxic threat to New Yorkers. Modern life has created a kind of poison playground, and danger lurks around every corner. Automobiles choke the city streets with carbon monoxide; potent compounds, such as morphine, can be found on store shelves in products ranging from pesticides to cosmetics. Prohibition incites a chemist's war between bootleggers and government chemists while in Gotham's crowded speakeasies each round of cocktails becomes a game of Russian roulette. Norris and Gettler triumph over seemingly unbeatable odds to become the pioneers of forensic chemistry and the gatekeepers of justice during a remarkably deadly time. A beguiling concoction that is equal parts true crime, twentieth-century history, and science thriller, The Poisoner's Handbook is a page-turning account of a forgotten New York.

Don't read this book while eating. I mean, unless you're unbothered by lengthy descriptions of minced brain tissue and various experiments done on dogs. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Also, I know nothing about science. I'm not one of those people who watches one episode of CSI and professes to be an expert in the field of forensic science. I do, however, happen to love true crime books and do have some interest in the work of forensic science as a result. In fact, true crime was how I got into nonfiction in the first place, reading books like In Cold Blood and The Devil in the White City and, of course, my beloved Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, which is the only book I can reread on a regular basis (in fact, I like to have a little annual reread of it every year from June to September). So I picked up The Poisoner's Handbook hoping, yes, for some insight on various poisons and the birth of forensic toxicology but mostly for the murder stories. 

The science in this book was easy to understand for someone like me, who gets confused rather easily when it comes to science and math (yes, I know I fully embrace my gender stereotype). I also really appreciated how the science is woven rather seamlessly into the narrative, unlike books like Girls of the Atomic City, which broke up the potentially interesting narrative with entire chapters purely dedicated to dry science. It was more on par with The Devil in the White City, another book that successfully interwove fact with narrative. I will admit though, after awhile I felt a bit bored with the constant tales of experiments and wanted to get back to the murder stories. 

And the murder stories were good. The ones Blum chose were interesting and grabbed my attention, though I wanted more of them. They should have been more of a prominent part of each chapter. I also liked how each chapter was dedicated to a different poison, though Blum didn't stick to it exactly- some poisons were brought up in different chapters other than their dedicated one. 

I did also think that Blum beat the Prohibition horse to death. One or two chapters dedicated to alcohol was fine, but after the third chapter on it I was done with the topic. That being said, it was interesting to have a bit of insight on the politics of the Jazz Age and into the bootleggers. Blum did also tease us with some other interesting criminal activity, like the Black Hand, a group I heard about briefly but know little about (not to be confused with the other Black Hand, the Serbian Independence group that was responsible for the assassination of Franz Ferdinand). And I did like the two heroes Blum chose for her book, Norris and Gettler, as they endeavored to make forensic science a respected field. 

Do I recommend this book? Yes. It was an interesting and relatively quick read, great for any true crime fan, especially one more interested in the forensic side of criminal work. I'm sure someone who is a science fan would like it too, though again I'm not the best judge.

8-8.5 out of 10

Night Film by Marisha Pessl Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Mortal fear is as crucial a thing to our lives as love. It cuts to the core of our being and shows us what we are. Will you step back and cover your eyes? Or will you have the strength to walk to the precipice and look out?”- Night Film, Marisha Pessl

On a damp October night, beautiful young Ashley Cordova is found dead in an abandoned warehouse in lower Manhattan. Though her death is ruled a suicide, veteran investigative journalist Scott McGrath suspects otherwise. As he probes the strange circumstances surrounding Ashley’s life and death, McGrath comes face-to-face with the legacy of her father: the legendary, reclusive cult-horror-film director Stanislas Cordova—a man who hasn’t been seen in public for more than thirty years.

For McGrath, another death connected to this seemingly cursed family dynasty seems more than just a coincidence. Though much has been written about Cordova’s dark and unsettling films, very little is known about the man himself.

Driven by revenge, curiosity, and a need for the truth, McGrath, with the aid of two strangers, is drawn deeper and deeper into Cordova’s eerie, hypnotic world.

The last time he got close to exposing the director, McGrath lost his marriage and his career. This time he might lose even more.

I picked up this book mostly on impulse. The first time I heard about it was because it was on many BookTubers' "Most Disappointing", "Overhyped Books", or "Unpopular Opinions" lists (what an introduction, really), though I wasn't really sure what it was about. It wasn't until another BookTuber I liked talked about it and went into detail on the plot that I finally decided to pick it up. Do I regret it? 

First, let's first address the elephant in the room. Yes, the infamous italics. Seriously, if you took a shot for every instance italics showed up, you'd be dead before the 100th page. It's laughable, really, and I can't believe that Pessl's editor actually let her get away with it. Every time I saw them I felt like giggling. You have to read it to fully appreciate the amount of exercise the little I button must have gotten on her Word manuscript. The writing isn't much to write home about either. Clunky metaphors, overly ornate descriptions, and hitting us over the head with themes (usually courtesy of Beckman) made this book tiresome to read after a while.

Also, Scott McGrath was basically Frank Mackey, but a lesser version of him. I wonder if Marisha Pessl is a Tana French fan, since her writing does seem like someone trying to mimic French's style to the best of her ability, and not really successfully. I was also annoyed by both Nora and Hopper- honestly, though, mostly by Nora, Hopper felt like he had more of a bearing on the plot though his personality was irritating and over the top. 

Ironically though, I had the opposite problem with this book than I usually do with French's work. The beginning was boring, and I had a hard time actually wanting to pick this book up. The middle was when the book really got going for me, and I was fascinated by where it was going. And then the story crashed and I just slogged through the last 100 pages wishing the story would end and I could go back to my life. The intrigue of the mystery had been lost, and the actual answers were a bit of a let down. Yes, even both twists.

But what was good about it? Stanislas Cordova, of course. Much like Big Brother, he is unseen, but his presence is deeply felt. Think Lynch's supernatural surrealism crossed with Kubrick's horror, Hitchcock's birds, and Tarantino's gore fests thrown in there for good measure and you've got yourself Cordova. I could easily place where Pessl likely got her inspiration from from each of these filmmakers. Obviously, Tarantino's evident in the amount of violence said to be in a Cordova film, and certain other things like the never-opened briefcase idea, something used in Pulp Fiction. The way Cordova treated his actors made me think of the way Kubrick was said to have treated Shelley Duvall in The Shining. And, of course, the supernatural elements (especially the idea of the possession of the devil) gave me major Twin Peaks vibes. I had no real desire to watch a Cordova film after reading- his storylines interested me but I am no horror movie fan- Lord only knows how I've managed to sit through Twin Peaks. There's probably some other directors that were key in the creation of Cordova that I'm missing- Roman Polanski and Ingmar Bergman were mentioned in Goodreads reviews, for instance- but those are just the obvious answers. Also, this is the first book about the Occult and Satanism and all that that managed not to completely freak me the hell out (thank you, Jay's Journal). In fact, it made me want more, and want to find more books that also have that element of mystery/horror/supernatural. Progress!

This is another one of those books were the plot interested me more than the characters did, who were really just vehicles of the plot. The supernatural elements, darkness, and horror bits made me want to watch Twin Peaks again (and yes, it is strange watching a show about who killed Laura Palmer when your name also happens to be Laura). I will also say this in Pessl's favor, the research in this book is meticulously done and I loved the references she drops- it's not often Truman Capote or Tennessee Williams or TS Eliot are named in the literature I read, though I have noticed one error- Capote's Black and White Ball was not thrown to celebrate the success of In Cold Blood, it was because he wanted to throw the most exclusive party of the century and invite all kinds of glamorous people there. Which made me wonder what Cordova was doing there in the first place, since he would have only made one or two films before the Ball and may not have been on Capote's radar yet. Perhaps a more accurate place to spot Cordova would be at The Factory- I could see Warhol latching onto him and his bizarre horror films. 

So overall, do I recommend this? I don't know. If you love mysteries, cult films, and supernatural elements, pick this one up. While this book did have a lot going for it that I liked, certain little things- like the excessive and often unnecessary use of italics- made me hesitant to pick up anything else by Pessl. 

8 out of 10

The Luxe by Anna Godbersen- Series Thoughts

The Luxe series follows a quartet of girls during the Turn of the Century in New York high society. It promised gossip, illicit affairs, passionate love, and of course pretty dresses. I suppose it delivered on that, though I found this series mostly boring. 

I didn't have nearly as much fun with these books as I did with Bright Young Things, sadly. It's not anything to do with the time period- yes, I love the 20s more, but the 1900s are pretty cool, too- hell, my first American Girl doll was Nellie, Samantha's best friend. But I was more bored with these books than I was with her other series. 

I don't know if that had anything to do with Godbersen's writing. She can sufficiently mimic the way books were written back then, but the repetition of her writing grated on me. She is in bad need of a thesaurus to give her more adjectives than "petite", "bee-stung lips", "oval face", or, in the case of Splendor, "protruding belly".

I don't know if I had a favorite character, since I didn't actually like any of them, but the two characters I found the most consistently interesting were Penelope and Lina. Though in both cases they only held my attention for three books- Penelope for the first three (The Luxe, Rumors, Envy) and Carolina for the last three (Rumors, Envy, Splendor). The two main heroines, though- Elizabeth and Diana- I couldn't bring myself to care about. Elizabeth bored me to tears and Diana annoyed me, but not enough that I felt strongly in any way towards her. Both their love stories were tiring and had unsatisfactory endings even if I wasn't that invested in them in the first place.

I would say my favorite book by far was Rumors, and my least favorite book was Splendor (I think Godbersen has a hard time with the last book). I don't regret reading this series at all, but I do think I dragged it out too much. Perhaps The Luxe is one of those series meant to be marathoned in a weekend, not dragged out for four months. I will still recommend these books for someone looking for a good fluff series, but I likely won't reread any time soon. Bright Young Things maybe, but not The Luxe.

The Luxe: 6 out of 10

Rumors: 7-7.5 out of 10

Envy: 6.5-7 out of 10

Splendor: 5.5-6 out of 10

Overall Series Rating: 6-6.5 out of 10

Splendor by Anna Godbersen Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Sometimes ends are in fact beginnings; beginnings ends.”, Splendor, Anna Godbersen

New Beginnings.

Shocking Revelations.

Unexpected Endings.

As spring turns into summer, Elizabeth relishes her new roles as a young wife, while her sister, Diana, searches for adventure abroad. But when a surprising clue about their father's death comes to light, the Holland girls wonder at what cost a life of splendor comes.

Carolina Broad, society's newest darling, fans a flame from her past, oblivious to how it might burn her future. Penelope Schoonmaker is finally Manhattan royalty - but when a real prince visits the city, she covets a title that comes with a crown. Her husband, Henry, bravely went to war, only to discover that his father's rule extends well beyond New York's shores and that fighting for love may prove a losing battle.

In the dramatic conclusion to the bestselling Luxe series, New York's most dazzling socialites chase dreams, cling to promises, and tempt fate. As society watches what will become of the city's oldest families and newest fortunes, one question remains: Will its stars fade away or will they shine ever brighter?

Thank God this series is over! I was never as taken with this series as I was by Bright Young Things, but mostly went through it because it was a fun read with pretty dresses and drama. I suppose I should feel a little melancholy- after all, if you'll remember Rumors was the first proper review I ever wrote on this blog- but honestly I was relieved to be finishing it. In this case, I don't know if I should have dragged out this series over the course of 4 months. Sure, I did it with The A Circuit and Bright Young Things, and I'm doing it with the Dublin Murder Squad, but I actually liked those series (yes, even The A Circuit). These books are like a marginally better version of the Royal Circle series, except they don't offend me as much and the thought of continuing on didn't make me want to cry. 

As usual, I didn't care about Diana or Elizabeth. Elizabeth bored me as a character from the beginning, and Diana just annoyed me. I realize now after reading The Awakening (which I'll talk about in my wrap-up) that Diana reminds of Edna Pontellier. I can tolerate Diana a bit more, though, because she didn't have children to abandon. But in this book characters I used to find interesting or at least not annoying bored me. Henry's chapters lost their dry, subtle humor making them hard to read without getting distracted, and Penelope lost all interesting qualities just to chase after some prince. The only chapters I still found interesting were Carolina's. 

One of the things that annoyed me the most about this book was that the setting felt a decade off. Bobbed hair, bohemian characteristics in Diana, and naked calves made me think more of the 1910s than the 1900. Maybe 1915? Even the ending seemed more geared towards the 1910s, since the old world that Diana is fleeing didn't fully vanish until after World War One. Which brings me to a part that annoyed me. Diana is getting a lecture by some writing friend we've never heard of before about how as soon as she leaves America she will be awoken to the world. Unless Diana wants to stay in Paris her whole life, she'd be disappointed that Europe was actually not much different than America during that time, except with an extra level of snobbery coming from the existence of a titled class. Sure, Paris was artsy and bohemian, but Paris has always been the exception in Europe and not the rule. And I love Paris, but I wouldn't call only living in Paris very sophisticated, anyway. 

Lots of other revelations were in this book did nothing for me. Everything felt to conveniently wrapped up in a nice little bow, and there were some heel-face turns that did nothing except annoy me. I'm just so happy I finished these books. My series thoughts will be up soon, and I'll be able to expound more on my thoughts there, though I will tell you this- this is my least favorite book in The Luxe.

5.5-6 out of 10

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Books are mirrors: you only see in them what you already have inside you.”- Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

Barcelona, 1945: A city slowly heals in the aftermath of the Spanish Civil War, and Daniel, an antiquarian book dealer’s son who mourns the loss of his mother, finds solace in a mysterious book entitled The Shadow of the Wind, by one Julián Carax. But when he sets out to find the author’s other works, he makes a shocking discovery: someone has been systematically destroying every copy of every book Carax has written. In fact, Daniel may have the last of Carax’s books in existence. Soon Daniel’s seemingly innocent quest opens a door into one of Barcelona’s darkest secrets--an epic story of murder, madness, and doomed love.

If you'll recall, I was really excited to pick this book up. It got a great review from a Booktuber I (mostly) trust, reminded me somewhat of The Book Thief plotwise, had an interesting setting, was an international best seller, and on top of it all it was by the same author of Marina, which I adored. Thus, I was fully prepared to love this book the same way I loved Marina.

And I did, though to a far lesser extent. This book had everything that would make me love a book- likable and complex characters (seriously, I actually liked everyone- even the villain was interesting), fantastic one-liners, lovely descriptions, beautiful quotes, interesting plotline, horror elements, all these things I'm starting to see as the hallmarks of Zafón's writing. But what worked so well in Marina didn't seem as perfect in The Shadow of the Wind. This book didn't hold my attention as much, and at time I felt stuck in that treadmill zone, when I've been reading for what feels like an hour and I think I'm making good progress only to discover that I've read at most fifteen pages. All those beautiful descriptions and long backstories felt tiresome now. Often while reading I felt distracted by other things, and when I would come back to the story I felt confused as to who was speaking and when. I'm not saying that this story didn't need the time or length to unfold, since it did, but I got a bit tired after a while. 

That being said, I still did like this book. I really loved Daniel, the sweet main character whose witty observations made me laugh more than once. I genuinely cared about him. He reminded me of Oscar. I also really liked Fermín, the Watchmaker, and Barcelo. The Gothic parts were really cool, too. I enjoy the way Zafón's mind works. Spain already conjures up images of black lace and red roses, of Gothic architecture and dreary Catholicism, so I could easily get behind Zafón's Barcelona. And I could tell that his goal in the literary world is to bring back the Gothic novel, which I'm down with, honestly. I also liked the idea of real life imitating plot, and the idea of some dark stranger running around burning all the books written by an author no one's ever heard of before (even if I did guess who it was within 10 pages). 

Honestly, I think my not loving this novel has a lot to do with when I read it. I wasn't really in the mood for a slow-burner so soon after reading Faithful Place, and Marina was still too fresh in my mind that I kept unintentionally comparing the two. And, of course, finding Marina the better of the two. Both told complex, extravagant stories with meandering plotlines and lengthy backstories, but one told it more concisely. I don't know if I gave this story the time it deserved.

I want to continue on with this trilogy, I really do. But maybe not next month. Maybe not until the summer. Honestly, probably once I finish up with The Dublin Murder Squad. But for right now, if I was going to recommend a Zafón book, it would definitely be Marina. No contest.

8 out of 10

Faithful Place by Tana French Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Most people are only too delighted to wreck each other's heads. And for the tiny minority who do their pathetic best not to, this world is going to go right ahead and make sure they do it anyway.”- Faithful Place, Tana French

Back in 1985, Frank Mackey was a nineteen year old kid with a dream of escaping his family's cramped flat on Faithful Place and running away to London with his girl, Rosie Daly. But on the night they were supposed to leave, Rosie didn't show. Frank took it for granted that she'd dumped him - probably because of his alcoholic father, nutcase mother, and generally dysfunctional family. He never went home again. Neither did Rosie. Then, twenty-two years later, Rosie's suitcase shows up behind a fireplace in a derelict house on Faithful Place, and Frank, now a detective in the Dublin Undercover squad, is going home whether he likes it or not. 

Getting sucked in is a lot easier than getting out again. Frank finds himself straight back in the dark tangle of relationships he left behind. The cops working the case want him out of the way, in case loyalty to his family and community makes him a liability. Faithful Place wants him out because he's a detective now, and the Place has never liked cops. Frank just wants to find out what happened to Rosie Daly - and he's willing to do whatever it takes, to himself or anyone else, to get the job done.

I've written many times of my ardent love for the work of Tana French. Having read three of her prior works and loving two of them (I'll probably reread The Trespasser in June after I read Broken Harbor and The Secret Place, might like it more now than I did back in December), I was fully prepared to love this book. And I did, but not as much as the first two in the series.

The problem was not the writing. It was what you'd expect of French- great characters, great dialogue, expert wording and sentence structure. I love how easily I can tell all her characters apart, how you could give me a quote from any of the books I've read by her and I can tell you which book it was based off narrative alone. Frank was an enjoyable narrator, reminding me of the main character in a hardboiled PI story. I also liked the relationships present, especially Frank and his daughter's. You don't see very many father-daughter relationships in fiction, so I liked that. The beginning and ending were also pretty pitch-perfect, as you'd expect from her writing. It was easily her funniest work too- I actually laughed out loud at several points.

Honestly, the above was really the only sign that this was a Tana French novel. I was disappointed by the amount of domestic drama and lack of actual police procedure. There weren't as many red herrings as there are usually in her work. I get that French was trying to break out of her formula, but honestly, that formula wasn't a bad one. I was kind of hoping she'd pull some last minute twist, but then was disappointed when that didn't happen.

Happily, French did have some Irish cultural bits, and she translates the sound of an Irish accent to the page really successfully. One thing I noticed about Irish accents, by the way, is just how much people in Ireland can tell about you based on what accent you have. That's something that interests me, especially since we don't really have that in America. Sure, there are some dialects and accents that are stereotyped as being rich or poor or educated or uneducated, but for the most part we don't really pay much attention to accents apart from it being a tip-off about where someone is from.

There were a few things that were different about this book that some readers might actually like more. I found this book to be less verbose than her other works. Sure, French can still set up a scene and write descriptions that make you feel like whatever it is she's describing is right in front of you, but it's not as ornate. This was also a faster read than her other books were. Some may also find Frank to be more engaging than Cassie or Ryan were. Also, this is more of a straight-up mystery novel than a crime novel or police procedural. I personally prefer the latter, but if you like the former more than this might be your favorite French novel. 

Honestly, this book was the only one that didn't fit in with the rest of the Dublin Murder Squad series. Frank and Cooper were the only characters from the other two to appear again. I get that French wants to progress in the series with new characters, but couldn't she at least have given us a cameo of Cassie or Sam (thought Sam would be the most likely since he was the one still working Murder)? Frank wasn't even a part of Murder, he was in Undercover. Looking at the synopsis of the next two books in the series, Scorcher and Stephen become our next narrators, and they were in this book, but other than that this book felt more like a spin-off than anything else.

Did I still like this book and give it a high score? Yes, of course. But I didn't love it the same way I loved both The Likeness and In the Woods. I mean, it's not like this book is going to deter me from picking up the rest of the series.

8-8.5 out of 10

Cinder by Marissa Meyer Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Do your kind even know what love is? Can you feel anything at all, or is it just... programmed?”- Cinder, Marissa Meyer

Although eager to impress the prince, Cinder's intentions are derailed when her younger stepsister, and only human friend, is infected with the fatal plague that's been devastating Earth for a decade. Blaming Cinder for her daughter's illness, Cinder's stepmother volunteers her body for plague research, an "honor" that no one has survived.

But it doesn't take long for the scientists to discover something unusual about their new guinea pig. Something others would kill for.

The Lunar Chronicles is one of those series that it seems like most of the YA world loves. So naturally, I'm reading it for the first time now. I'm not crazy about retellings or sci-fi, so I never felt inclined to pick it up. But I'm doing this reading challenge, and one of the categories is retellings (another is sci-fi) so I figured that if I read this series I could knock both those out. 

Rightaway, I could tell that a) I was going to have to suspend my disbelief and b) how the writing was going to be. In my experience, it's rare that writing actually improves as a book goes on, while it might start out rough, usually any improvement can be accounted for me either getting used to the writing, or me realizing how the writing fits the story. The writing in this isn't the best I ever saw- I wouldn't even call it great- but it fit the story and went down easy, with some really nice descriptions that show Meyer's potential as an author. Even if the writing doesn't improve throughout the series, I would still be happy. 

But back to a. The story is fairly ridiculous and also I could tell Cinder's got a serious case of the Special Snowflake Syndrome. There are some authors who have a gift for opening scenes (Markus Zusak is one that springs to mind). Meyer isn't one of them. The opening scene sets up the story and launches us into action, not very prettily, but it gets the job done. We are introduced to Prince Kai, the love interest, Cinder's personality, the mystery of the android, and near the end, the plague. It's a lot to take in at once, with the plague part done particularly poorly. But it's a fairytale retelling ferchristssake.

But when you really think about, it's not a retelling at all. Sure, there are some aspects of the Cinderella story, like the ball and the prince and the color of the getaway vehicle and the "evil" stepfamily and, yes, her name, but other than that I don't get much of a Cinderella vibe. I mean, even if it wasn't advertised as a retelling I could pick it up, but it lacks the core message of the Cinderella story, which is that with hard work and kindness, you will be rewarded. Cinder in this novel isn't particularly kind nor hard working. Sure, she's a mechanic, but honestly it seems more like a natural gift than something achieved through her hard work. Again, she's also got a serious case of Special Snowflake Syndrome. She's attracted some handsome prince, for some reason (they don't really have much chemistry), and she's immune to the plague, as well as other revelations I won't spoil for you even if they are fairly obvious.

Characterization and worldbuilding aren't really Meyer's strong points anyway. Most of the characters aren't really that developed or even interesting. Dr Erland, who I kind of liked, functioned as an info dump/deus ex machina, Kai was the princely love interest, Queen Levana was the evil fairytale queen, etc. The world building was also shaky. Setting it in a world inspired by East Asia was a waste if Meyer didn't worldbuild at all apart from some info dumps courtesy of Dr Erland, as well as other characters. I was also unimpressed with the predictability of the plot. Nothing came as a surprise to me, because I guessed it already. And after reading Marina, I was yet again unimpressed with the attempts at body horror while Cinder was in the testing labs. The plague itself was also unimpressive. Meyer uses all this to fairly mechanically move the plot along, and I'm not entirely sure how successful it ended up being. 

All that said, this book is really readable. I could see how it got so popular, and there are some things that I really liked. I wanted to know more about this world, and about the intergalactic politics. There's a glimmer of interesting features in some of these characters, especially Queen Levana, but as of Cinder her potential is unrealized leaving behind a fairly boring evil queen. Still, I had fun reading this despite everything. 

Now, I actually like fairytales. The original versions, not necessarily the Disney ones (though I do love Disney, don't get me wrong, I have a huge weakness for both pretty things and musicals). I just like my fairytales to be dark and edgy and moralistic. Like the original version of Cinderella, with the stepmother and sisters who get their eyes plucked out by birds before dying in a cave (or something along those lines). And I will say that this book is very evoking of a fairytale. But there's a reason fairytales are typically the length of short stories, if that, and are geared towards children. The characterization in them is almost nil, as well as the worldbuilding, because it would take up too much time and space and ultimately the goal of a fairytale is not only entertain, but also teach a moral lesson of some kind (usually one rooted in religious belief) to children. Perhaps this is why fairytale retellings don't do much for me. They are often aimed towards teenagers and have the message cut out (likely because they see this as a flaw), but because they are essentially longer versions of real fairytales, don't really improve much on character (except to make the female characters "stronger" or the love interest "less flat") or world. At least they entertain, I'll give them that.

And because of that, I'll probably continue on with the series, even if I can probably guess everything that happens in it. Also, the covers of these books are really beautiful and remind me in some ways of the old Unwind covers. Like I love the whole metal bones in the shoe thing. Even the foreign covers are pretty, especially the Spanish one since a doll artist I like had one of her dolls photographed for it. I don't think this series will replace the Unwind series as my favorite YA series ever, but it should be a fun time. I'll probably get the three other books and just marathon them some weekend next month instead of dragging it out like I usually do, so look forward to that.

7 out of 10

The Passion of Dolssa by Julie Berry Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“That which you tend, you come to adore with the kind of love that bypasses sense and reason.”- The Passion of Dolssa, Julie Berry

Dolssa is a young gentlewoman with uncanny gifts, on the run from an obsessed friar determined to burn her as a heretic for the passion she refuses to tame.

Botille is a wily and charismatic peasant, a matchmaker running a tavern with her two sisters in a tiny seaside town.

The year is 1241; the place, Provensa, what we now call Provence, France—a land still reeling from the bloody crusades waged there by the Catholic Church and its northern French armies.

When the matchmaker finds the mystic near death by a riverside, Botille takes Dolssa in and discovers the girl’s extraordinary healing power. But as the vengeful Friar Lucien hunts down his heretic, the two girls find themselves putting an entire village at the mercy of murderers.

I picked this book up so soon after The Good People because they reminded me of each other. Sure, one is an adult historical fiction novel taking place in 19th century Ireland and the other is a YA historical fiction novel taking place in 13th century Provence, but the actual subject matter is very reminiscent of each other. 

Sadly, this book can't hold a candle to The Good People. It has a quarter of the atmosphere and well developed, real-seeming characters. The writing is very surface level. We are told what to think, how to feel. The moral ambiguity is undeveloped and mostly told to us. The plot is bogged down with the character of Botille, to whom far too much focus is given.

Frankly, you could read the summary and gleam all the characterization from it. And the plot too, in a 1000+ less words. If you want characters that are the same as almost every other YA historical fiction novel ever published, this is the book to read. Botille especially grated on me. She seemed like every single YA historical fiction narrator- a woman who is strong, independent, and witty, carving out a living in a man's world. Too much attention is devoted to her, probably because the author either likes her too much or because she knows that this character is the only way to sell books. Most of the other characters were also the typical run of the mill HF characters- the vengeful priest, the innocent, beautiful girl at the mercy of these horrible holy men, the kind prostitute (there's always a prostitute character nowadays), the tough independent girl going against the grain of the time period, the roguish, snarky love interest. New setting, same old characters.

Which is a shame, because the plot had a lot of potential, as well as some of the parts, like the interviews. The entire book should have been written as the interviews- Berry could have done so much with them. They were interesting and unique and could have been such a unique way to develop the characters. But alas, we are too often pulled out of those unique snippets for Botille's world, and I feel as if I am back in stereotypical YA historical fiction. The ending was interesting, making me think of all the potential this story could have had but didn't. Dolssa should have been the focus- she's right there in the title, for crying out loud-, and if Berry really wanted to write about Botille she could have done so in a different book, a Catherine Called Birdy-esque book perhaps. Likely, I wouldn't have read it, but still.

Another YA historical fiction with so much potential and so much wasted. I can't help but think of that Tame Impala song- New Person, Same Old Mistakes. It fits.

6.5 out of 10

The Good People by Hannah Kent Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“The Good People are cunning when they are not merry. They do what pleases them because they serve neither God nor Devil, and no one can assure them of a place in Heaven or Hell. Not good enough to be saved, and not bad enough to be lost”- The Good People, Hannah Kent

County Kerry, Ireland, 1825.

The fires on the hills smouldered orange as the women left, pockets charged with ashes to guard them from the night. Watching them fade into the grey fall of snow, Nance thought she could hear Maggie's voice. A whisper in the dark.

"Some folk are born different, Nance. They are born on the outside of things, with a skin a little thinner, eyes a little keener to what goes unnoticed by most. Their hearts swallow more blood than ordinary hearts; the river runs differently for them."

Nóra Leahy has lost her daughter and her husband in the same year, and is now burdened with the care of her four-year-old grandson, Micheál. The boy cannot walk, or speak, and Nora, mistrustful of the tongues of gossips, has kept the child hidden from those who might see in his deformity evidence of otherworldly interference.

Unable to care for the child alone, Nóra hires a fourteen-year-old servant girl, Mary, who soon hears the whispers in the valley about the blasted creature causing grief to fall upon the widow's house.

Alone, hedged in by rumour, Mary and her mistress seek out the only person in the valley who might be able to help Micheál. For although her neighbours are wary of her, it is said that old Nance Roche has the knowledge. That she consorts with Them, the Good People. And that only she can return those whom they have taken...

First of all, happy St Patrick's Day! Unfortunately, my family isn't celebrating until Sunday, so I have to wait two more days for corned beef, potatoes, and Irish soda bread. 

I wanted to read something Irish in honor of the day, and was tempted just to read Faithful Place, since French's books are often steeped in the culture and history of this small but fascinating island- and Tana French is also actually Irish- but instead I reached for Hannah Kent's The Good People, because I adored Burial Rites (and mildly excited for the movie, although annoyed at Jennifer Lawrence, the most overrated actress in Hollywood since Emma Watson, playing the lead- God, it's like when I found out that Leo diCaprio is playing HH Holmes in the adaption of The Devil in the White City).

I got this book off Book Depository, since it's not out in print in America yet and also I thought the hardcover was more attractive. In this book, just as in her last book, the main attraction is the atmosphere of the novel. I adore atmospheric books, especially atmospheric historical fiction. The setting, the culture, the lives of these people just lept off the page and I could picture the valley perfectly, as well as its inhabitants. 

I did wish there was a pronunciation guide or glossary, as there was in her debut, though maybe there will be one in the American edition. I had to look up how to pronounce names like Áine or Eilís. And then even though I was reading silently, I felt really tired having to remember how to pronounce each name in my head. Does anyone else do that? 

If you want likeable characters, I wouldn't recommend this book to you. While I could find at least some sympathy for all the characters, I only really felt bad for two of them- Mary, the maid and unwitting accomplice, and, of course, the boy, Micheál. I think it's pretty impossible not to feel bad for Micheál, though Mary might strain some people's sympathy. 

One thing I really admire about Kent's work is that she doesn't bog down her historical fiction with unnecessary facts or aspects. It would be tempting for a lot of authors to add bits about Anglo-Irish relations during this time, including bitterness about colonization or resentment towards the Irish families placed in charge of the rest of the villagers, but apart from a few mentions of a landlord that's mostly left out, making the story seem more centered as a result. Kent knows what information to give and what to withhold. The bits about Irish folklore were fascinating, and both the beliefs of the Catholic Church and the beliefs left over from the days of the Gaels were treated with respect. The priest is not outwardly villainized anymore than Nance is. I liked how everyone in this book was morally grey, and, while this book was very successful oscillating between these three women, I do kind of wish that a priest figure or someone from this new school of Catholicism was given a point of view so that the cultural clash between the old ways and the attempts for the Catholic Church to reform was developed more, though we see a bit of that with Mary (who was probably my favorite character, especially since she was the only one who really seemed to care about Micheál).

The whole idea of changelings is a fascinating and ultimately tragic one, especially reading more into it. Children with birth defects or deformities were killed, but we can't wholly condemn the people doing the killing because they honestly believed that the act would bring their children back. When I asked my mother (she's a nurse) what she thought Micheál had, describing to her some of the symptoms, she said it sounded like MS. Other speculations I saw included hypothyroidism/iodine poisoning, as well as cerebral palsy. The point is, this poor boy tugged at my heart, especially the "treatments" he endured as a way to bring back the "real Micheál", a heartbreaking thought itself. 

One of the most effective things Kent did was include the judge and jury. In her decision, we not only have some glimmers of the clash between the cities and the countryside of Ireland, something that still exists to this day, as well as the prosecutor becoming almost a mouthpiece for our thoughts on these women. We think of their crime as being something only the evil or stupid could do, but throughout the novel we get why it was committed. The complexities are shown well in this novel.

One of my biggest wishes in historical fiction is that more books dealing with Irish history existed. If that's what you're looking for, this novel is highly recommended. After this book, Hannah Kent has become an auto-buy author. I await her next work eagerly, sure it will be just as fascinating and brilliantly atmospheric as her last two.

8.5-9 out of 10

Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor Review

WARNING: THERE MAY BE SPOILERS BELOW

“Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love. It did not end well.”- Daughter of Smoke and Bone, Laini Taylor 

Around the world, black hand prints are appearing on doorways, scorched there by winged strangers who have crept through a slit in the sky.

In a dark and dusty shop, a devil’s supply of human teeth grows dangerously low.

And in the tangled lanes of Prague, a young art student is about to be caught up in a brutal otherworldly war.

Meet Karou. She fills her sketchbooks with monsters that may or may not be real, she’s prone to disappearing on mysterious "errands", she speaks many languages - not all of them human - and her bright blue hair actually grows out of her head that color. Who is she? That is the question that haunts her, and she’s about to find out.

When beautiful, haunted Akiva fixes fiery eyes on her in an alley in Marrakesh, the result is blood and starlight, secrets unveiled, and a star-crossed love whose roots drink deep of a violent past. But will Karou live to regret learning the truth about herself?

Daughter of Smoke and Bone is the book we can probably thank for that weird-ass angel trend in YA in the early 2010s. While it is true that Becca Fitzpatrick's Hush, Hush, and Lauren Kate's Fallen serieses were published in 2009 and over by 2012, I have noticed an uptick in angel books published in late 2011, early 2012. So I blame this book. It was right at the end of the Paranormal Romance empire; the Twilight movie series was coming to a close, and Dystopian popularity was picking up steam with the Hunger Games movies and Divergent. Interesting comparisons can probably be drawn between the Christianization of Rome right near the end of the Empire and the angel trend being near the end of the mainstream popularity of paranormal romance, but alas, not enough time or inclination on my part. Also, I'm not really that versed in the genre. In fact, this is the first paranormal romance I read, so Daughter of Smoke and Bone gets the dubious honor of that. I don't think I'll be running out to the bookstore eager to pick up any more, or even to finish the trilogy. 

I don't know whether I like the title or it reminds me of a barbecue place. The other two are much better. Besides the title, the first thing that captured my attention was the pretty writing. And yes, it's absolutely gorgeous and not at all like a YA novel in the same way Six of Crows was. Teenaged characters, teenaged plot line, but adult writing. Ever since the colossal disappointment that was The Night Circus, though, I've been suspicious of pretty writing. This book was like a beautiful woman with an empty head. I say that because Taylor attempts to cover serious flaws, like her main character not having a real personality, with luscious descriptions and expertly worded quotes. The entire time I was reading, I kept thinking "it's a good thing you're pretty, because otherwise I would have DNFed you so hard right now." 

Truth be told, I was getting pretty bored with it anyway. Mostly because Karou has the illusion of having a personality. I have a very simple litmus test for telling whether or not a character has an actual personality- I ask myself two questions: who are they, what do they want. At around 70 pages in, I asked myself both questions- ample enough time to get to know our heroine, no? Sure, maybe not her backstory, that's expected, but who she is. Well, we know she's a gifted artist. She likes languages. She was raised by demons. She's fairly witty- the only trait that isn't told to us outright; Taylor must think we the readers are idiots- apparently she's pretty badass, and of course, in the grand tradition of romance novel heroines, she's a possessor of out of this world beauty. You'll notice that none of these traits are negative, and I'll get there. But first we must ask: what does she want? All together now: LOVE! Fairly human need, one that I don't necessarily have a problem with; we all crave love or at the very least understanding, as George Orwell claims in 1984. I know I do. Sadly, I'm not much interested in reading about the pursuit of love over the course of a 400-something page novel, especially due to what we'll find out later. So Karou's love quest doesn't really endear me to her and frankly just made me frightened as to where this book is going.

As I mentioned before, she has almost no negative character traits, except for some informed ones, like her supposed vanity or pettiness. We do get a bit of pettiness when she uses her wishing beads to make her ex itch during a life drawing class, but other than that she's pretty flawless. I can't root for heroines like that. She's not what I would consider a Strong Female Character. Strong Female Characters I would reserve for protagonists like Katniss, who is a tough, compassionate badass, but she also has many negative traits, like her wrath or her inherent selfishness. I can root for her because of that. Karou is clearly set up to be some perfect spectacle of womanhood, and her perfection is supposed to be some sign of her origin, but there's a reason that stories typically star humans and angels are reserved for side characters or love interests. We cannot connect to flawless beings. 

Of course, Karou is also "not whole". Tragic. Nothing a beautiful boy can't fix. Enter Angel Boy. He has a real name, but I refuse to type it. So Angel Boy it is. He is mysteriously drawn to the otherworldly beauty that is our MC. And that was where any and all hope I had for this plot line died. I didn't know it was going to be a romance. The summary lied to me, as well as the genre classifications. Should have listened to Goodreads. Anyway, Angel Boy is exactly what it says on the tin. An angel who happens to be part of the penis sex. Actually, he's not really an angel. I don't know where Taylor is getting this from, but her angels are merciless, cold hearted beings. Like sociopaths. Or vampires. Again, no idea where she got this from. Angels by definition are guardians, full of kindness and, yes, mercy for humanity. Maybe not avenging angels, but I doubt it. I also never got this idea of taking something that has as intense a religious connotation as angels and secularizing them. Angels have always had a deep religious connection, from Zoroastrianism to the Abrahamic religions- Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. In all four religions, they have had the same role and connection to God. Frankly, it can also be seen as offensive since this book takes something as intensely religious, something that cannot exist without God, and turns it into something secular, even to the point of decrying religion. Taylor should have created her own monsters or angel-like creatures if she wanted to do that.

Anyway, back to the review. Angel Boy is a tormented soul. Perfect. He's also pretty brood-y and enjoys some light stalking activities, as well as attempting to kill his One True Love. We find out that they're essentially meant to be together. Which is great for Taylor, since she doesn't have to show them falling in love. It's like a romance novel without the main plot, though I assume this is a commonplace in most paranormal romance novels since they like to disguise themselves with seductive plotlines to act like they're better than all those other romance novels. Good thing he's devastatingly handsome. Apparently, he even wears eyeliner, which made me flip to the publication date to see if it was 2005. And yes, I was right, any interesting storyline flew out the window for some good old fashioned paranormal romance. It's like Twilight, except with Prague and angels. 

Which reminds me, I wish there was more Prague. It's one of my wish list cities, but it seems like Taylor just chose Prague because it was a pretty, historic city. With the exception of a few admittingly enchanting descriptions she does nothing else with the setting she chose. She could have researched Bohemian mythology or done so much with Czech culture but she didn't. I hate wasted settings. 

There's some other issues I have with this book, like way too much exposition and overly confusing storyline but this review is long enough and I don't feel like going into it. Point is, I didn't like this book. Maybe you will, but I didn't. If you loved Twilight, go for it. If not, well, can't say I didn't warn you.

3.5-4 out of 10

To Be Continued...

Never