|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
my rating |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
39
| 
| 4.09
| 55
| 2015
| Jul 18, 2017
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, or so we are told. Many journeys require no movement at all. How is a per
**spoiler alert** The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, or so we are told. Many journeys require no movement at all. How is a person to begin when all that is required of them remains stagnant? To heal that which is unseen & cure the flesh eater under our skin, a person must first speak truth into the situation that surrounds them. In the case of stories of fiction, shades & hues of discoloured honesty often accompany the protagonist’s journey, it is up to the reader to lend a hand in deciphering what lies beneath the tombstone of life; the revelation kept nestled within the folds of the dying mind, one that will never relinquish its hold on the very truth sought & evaded. The narrator has a name but, I will not lie to you, I cannot remember what it is. One’s enjoyment of this story will not be hindered by their inability to grapple with the details, in fact, Everett reflects on the very intricate nature of a person’s desire to remember the portrait while intentionally forgetting the instrument that crafted the piece. I find myself ironically linked to this story. When I first read it I wasn’t sure I had understood what the author was attempting to share. The plot follows a detective who visits an Elder on a Reserve in the United States; her dying wish is to see her son, one more time. Readers may believe the story to be straightforward. Certainly, what more is there to life than the knots of love that hold us together? In essence, this is a story about tenderness. The main character wanders near & far across the town, interrogating numerous people after the whereabouts of the Elder’s son. The assumption of the reader is not entirely incorrect. This story is about the tender petal of love that exists between a mother & her child yet, readers will also note that this child has been absent for decades. The photograph that the Elder gives the Detective is torn about by the years. The narrator wonders who this man might be & why he has been absent for so long. Why has the Elder asked him of all people to galavant the tundra in search of a man whom no one has seen in a lifetime? What I found interesting about this plot was that it was so simple. At face value, one may forget that the main driver of the plot is the Elder—a woman who is one hundred years old, older still, or a tad bit younger—she remains in place while the story journeys to & fro, with the reader’s mind attempting to understand what must be so important about a man. Of course, one may accept that the child’s presence at the deathbed of their parent is normal; one would understand the need to say goodbye before departing forever. In some cultures, the physical departing is not synonymous with eternity. The Elder may well believe in her heart that the world as she knows it is but a chapter in her existence. Perhaps this is why she sends the narrator on an Odyssey. Though the narrator asks around, he is never met with any helpful information. The entire community, ranging from people young & old, does not seem to know who the man in the photograph is let alone, be aware that the Elder even had a son. What was initially thought to be a quest of bravery in the pursuit of gentility, soon becomes a goose chase; otherwise known as a waste of time. Will readers believe the narrator was justified in presenting himself at the Elder’s home empty-handed? After what feels like weeks, though it was certainly less time than an Odyssey in the traditional sense may warrant, the narrator comes to learn that the Elder’s son died many moons ago, at a rather young age. At this stage in the story, readers will be granted the opportunity to decipher the moral of the tale. The ruby red slipper of fate has come to the door, it will not knock, & shall not leave empty-handed. Reflections will allow readers to understand the introduction as I have written it. Death is but a stone on the path in the great realm of existence. For the Elder, a quest across the town might have soothed her inside, confirming to her tired mind that her child was no more for the Earth & therefore, she was free to journey onward. Whether the Elder remembered that her child had died was of little importance. The moment she spends with the Detective, as she tells him that she has missed him & is glad to be seeing him again soon, speaks more to the nature of transition than it does the shaded mind that fades away near death. The beauty in this exchange is that the Elder’s son was seen by every single person who looked at the photograph—a photo that was not the son but the actor, Graham Greene. Though the town could not place him, he was someone to each of them. Here we come to the core of the story. Life might be very long if we are lucky enough to become acquainted with the moon. For others, the short stinted breeze of the wind carries them onward to greater pastures where their soul need not burden itself with walking across stony sandy laneways. Depending on the reader’s cultural ties, they may believe that the parting of the Elder was accompanied by prayer or that she was forever buried in the ground that gave her life; perhaps one might believe that her soul will come back around for a further jaunt down the nostalgic & familiar ways of the planet or, maybe where she goes now is a place uncommon to us because of its peace. Ultimately, what I enjoyed about this story was its ability to weave growth into the flower that blooms under the shade of a tree. No garden is perfect with the right amount of rain & sunshine but, the revenant’s soul kisses softly to the petals & leaves that welcome them home, to a place much unlike the mulch lands that is our own home yet, identical to it in every way. Everett has a wonderful way of writing that creates formidable girth & life to stale syllables, toying with the reader, asking them to dare to dream of a world where the end of the sentence is not to be dreaded, like the monster at the end of a book. Readers who long for the calm slated tale of a Knight in dashing garments & a sleeping beauty may rest easy upon this classic tale of love & loss. The hero cannot set to right that which remains unknown to him in its entirety, yet he gallantly struts forward & holds the hand that will never wave again; once more before the two depart, will only meet in a land where a journey can mean anything the wandering heart desires. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this •LINK• ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Feb 20, 2024
|
Feb 20, 2024
|
Audible Audio
| ||||||||||||||||
36
|
| 3.46
| 24
| unknown
| Aug 21, 2018
|
really liked it
|
**spoiler alert** Imagine yourself as you had been; small, unsure, growing, & curious. Back in the time that was before, you had heard stories that po
**spoiler alert** Imagine yourself as you had been; small, unsure, growing, & curious. Back in the time that was before, you had heard stories that poisoned the simplicity of the life you thought you might have. Whether it be the tormented tale of a malevolent spirit under icy water or the marooning whistler in the woods; the devil at play was in all the stories that existed in your childhood. All the more frightening were these cautionary tales when they seeped into the colourful lair of your own imagination. Adan was like you once, an innocent child who was paralyzed by the creeping fear that accompanies the scrapping claws of the demon slithering behind bedroom walls. It was a stroke of luck that I fell into this story when I did. We near the month of spooky stories & whispering darkness, leaving me all the more eager to visit the parameters of intentionally crafted horror. I have not been shy to admit that there is a particular facet of Horror that I love above all others. Though I remain a supporter of the goblin king & the ancient vampire, I need something more patient; a story so foul & detrimental to inner peace, its rivulets masticate the easy grooves of the mind. During one such night—darkness looming over the city as I prepared myself for sleep—I realized the creaks & heaves in my ears were the introductions of fear. In many ways, the scariest story is the one that reminds the reader of themselves. The most vulnerable aspects of our person when displayed with shingles of overwhelm & suffocating despair leave a reader to tremble; these are things for night & solitude, not satires of stories & ancient phantasmic beings in the middle of the afternoon. If the reader in question has it in their heart to hold steady, to leave the intentional logic & analysis that follows them—keeps them on course—to the side of their mind, over the ear & near the temporal lobe; they will be met with the dead eyes of terror written in the most jejune way; easy on the eyes & quick to the heart. This story follows Adan, a man in his 30s, as he reconnects with a memory long since suppressed. He is a father now with children of his own but, once upon a time, he was a child too. During his youth, Adan heard stories of the Multo who haunted the grandmother of a friend. The children spoke freely of the Multo & claimed to see him everywhere & in everything. Readers will remember their own misgivings towards the paranormal. Whether or not readers believe in ghosts or the disembodied spirit that lurks alongside the traditional body of the living, this story will remind them what it felt like to know that they were unsafe. While I sat in the dark, like it was my first time hearing a ghost story, I wondered whether or not this particular narrative had the power to bring me back through the years to when, I too, had been sitting with my friends at sleepovers & standing around in school hallways sharing the tales of a haunted existence that differed from the one that I had been living in secret. Without exploring my person too profoundly I will express to you that my quest for a scary story does not originate from a place of apathy; I have known deep-rooted fear. Rather, I seek out the story that removes me from the chronic tremor of what I have known. Very rarely, if ever, has a story come to my door, wiggled itself into my mind, & spoken to me of a fear I can behold. Marzioli’s writing is not artistic in the same way as a garden of yearly sophistication. His writing is attainable & thick with ease; easy to understand & uncomplicated to grasp. Due to this fact, the reader is met with no struggle, their mind is welcomed into the story as it is told to them via a friend & friends do not need the flowery language of the river water to murky an already dreadful tale. I am inclined to believe that somewhere along the line, the reality of laying in bed wishing for slumber became all too vivid for me; I remember what it was like to be small. What is of particular intrigue in this plot is the dedication that accompanies the haunted being & his prey. Many people experience a despair that ripples their souls into fractions & tethers them to landmarks over the course of their lives. Adan’s life was mundane & normal, for all intents & purposes. He was happy & at peace with the person that he was & the loved ones around him. The reminder of the nights when he was stuck in a state whence no one could save him, opened the door to the disfiguring visage of disquiet. Simply put, the Multo that haunted the grandmother promised Adan that he would find him again. I will not lie, though I sat in the darkness listening to the quiet thuds that accompanied the Multo through the bedroom wall & into the room with the terrified Adan, I questioned the logistics of a ghost that would wait 20-plus years to haunt another person. This did not necessarily take me out of the worry that accompanied my own memories but, it reminded me that in all the most frightful things in the world, there is a murmur that stutters the sinus rhythm of the heart. Does something have to make logical sense to be scary? Does the villain's motive need to have analytic validity to be terrifying? For me, the answer has always been yes though, I have found my fascination to grow when faced with the horned beast that knows no reason. The Multo, real or not, represents the end of an era. Adan’s childhood is far behind him & he will never get it back. While doing his yard work, he feels the presence of a dark force around him, certain that he is being watched. For some readers, this scene might ring true to the alert of death; the passing of the grandmother. For other readers, this is simply the moment when our main character feels the most alone. There is no way to tell whether or not Adan’s fears are justified. If the Multo is real, his life is not hopeless. The grandmother figure in his youth lived an entire & long life filled with the echoing joys of laughter & love in her home & neighbourhood. I am left wondering if perhaps the demons that haunt us lie in the distant & unreachable sections of our minds for a reason. Ultimately, I find the story that scares me is the one that reminds me of myself. The experience of being caught off guard while listening to this in the night left me with a smile on my face & an eagerness to meet my match. Though there are questions that remain—as there always shall be—I am not disappointed by what I found alone in the dark with LeVar Burton’s melodious voice whirring a shushing performance of the story at hand. It might stand to reason that the uncontrollable familiar nature of the sibling who sleeps soundly, & the comfort of a known space, is the breeding ground for the most frightful & deranged terror of all. Adan, like many readers, will be asked to prepare himself, day in & day out, for the life in light & darkness that saunters the ageless Old Serpent to his feeding ground. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this •LINK• ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Oct 31, 2023
|
Jan 25, 2024
|
Audible Audio
| ||||||||||||||||
35
| 
| Liu, Ken
*
| B0DM277KT6
| unknown
| 4.15
| 240
| Oct 2011
| Mar 10, 2020
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** In a world in which our decisions are not entirely our own, a moral question makes its way to the forefront; What is free will? For
**spoiler alert** In a world in which our decisions are not entirely our own, a moral question makes its way to the forefront; What is free will? For many people, freedom exists as a metaphorical concept. One is perhaps exceedingly lucky to never have to think of freedom at all. For others, freedom exists as a Mona Lisa; a beautiful thing to observe from the other side of the Q-Cord. There may exist a neutral stance; a place right snug in the middle populated by people whose lives revolve around the decisions they make to either obtain or denigrate the concept & reality of freedom, both for themselves & for others. Readers are not necessarily required to have sat with this conundrum before reading this story. The premise itself engages a thought process that will cleave readers into their categories; the free, the serfs, the philosophers, & the manipulators. The main character in this book has made his choice. While the world around him begins to offer an alternative to death—life everlasting as a disembodied voice—he opts for traditional mortality. His family is broken at the seams as members ignore his warnings; selecting to die a death neither noble nor understood. The logistics of their decision are not shared with the reader, one is left to understand that no character has a settled understanding of what it means to bury a body while transferring the soul. In this world, the norm is a deranged antiquity the likes of which human beings would rather shed than ever experience again. The premise of this story poses the question I asked at the beginning of this review though, it approaches it from a different angle. Is the main character wrong for wanting to keep tradition alive? The people that he has loved throughout his life make their decisions & yet, he holds true to the belief that they were not in their right minds to make it, unless they made the same decision as he did. Does this constitute a reality any different than our own circumstances? I found myself wondering how I might feel if placed in identical circumstances to the main character. He bore witness to his mother’s decision being overturned because her husband didn’t want her to die a death of finality; his daughter ran away to find herself among those who would choose omnivorous apathy rather than the carnivorous decomposition of our skin. All the while, what we know—our knowledge—is all the liberty we have; our body goes away & so do we. Readers might find a different way of looking at this story depending on their views of the body & the spirit. If there were any time wherein religious dogma played an active part in a person’s life, this would be one of them. For the main character, the death of the body is the final death, there exists nothing else nor should there. For others, the death of the physical body is but one step into a future realm of existence. We come to a cornerstone; What is the right system of belief? The secret antagonist of this story is the thief of choice. Without all the information how can one make the right decision? For the main character, the remaining state of consciousness that exists in place of his loved ones is nothing but a lie; a fraudster in lieu of intimate human connection. He cannot accept that the people he knew so deeply would think or act as the disembodied voices do. I am inclined to believe him. We do not become more intelligent by disconnecting from the world. This lingering state of vocal fry would not grant us any more depth than life in an earth-bound body. We kid ourselves by thinking that by dissecting our experience from the land, we might grow tall & profound in an Eden all our own. Ultimately, I am still a bit conflicted on my stance & that is not because I do not have one—this review has been very clear in presenting my opinions. However, I am also of the belief that people’s choice of prophet & promise should be respected. Though it might be hard to accept that his loved ones have been made lesser, or different, than the people he knew them to be; this is the state of the world; this life takes & changes, altering indefinitely & beyond plausible recognition. What would happen if this new state of being was the one in which we experience peace? In all the raving rambling thunders of the clouds & chilling acidic drops of the rain, humanity has found itself seeking the protected & immersive experience of life. Following sentence structures that are tangible & sticky like weeds on a vine; the premise poses a coin toss via the lottery. Would you give up your freedom for an eternity unfathomable to humankind? If your days were stripped like sawdust, what would you do with a newfound existence marooned from the beauty & despair of our mundanely heart-palpitating essence? If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this •LINK• ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Nov 03, 2023
|
Jan 25, 2024
|
Podcast
| |||||||||||||
34
|
| B0DM4HV31V
| 3.55
| 114
| Jun 11, 2013
| Jan 2016
|
it was ok
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, tou
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters that contain reflections on capital punishment, crime, murder, terminal illness, sexual violence, body mutilation, & others. I wonder what part of a story makes it worthwhile. The objective delight of consumption could arise upon the opening line. The slither of lingering hope that the middle might offer a forgiven delayed delight is altogether murdered by an end. This question exists in me alongside my wandering reader’s eyes. Few readers do not enjoy King’s writing. Their eager iris shift to encompass the dark as they share the tender frights they encountered along the abundance of stories the author has left along the way. I want to feel what they do but am left abandoned by hope alongside the highway, alone at night; waiting for a moon or a headlight. In this short story, a man dies of colon cancer. He lived a long life filled to the brim with events, as is likely to happen throughout life. When he dies, he wanders the halls of a cold institution & meets a secretary of mortality who offers him the opportunity to return or die forever. The premise seeks to address our battle with mortality; our tendency to either want to be gone or stay forever. This story fails to consider that horrible people will do horrible things & this is neither shocking nor surprising. Rather than host sentences of tender discomfort, the dialogue feels trite; forgetting itself & the characters it created to offer the reader the chance to insert themselves in the morbid display of intentional criminality. The main character in this book is a man like any other. His life was rambunctious & cadaverous; he roamed & screamed, he took for granted, cherished, & grew his ego. He was a father & a husband, a brother, & a son. The narrator is a person like any person might be & as is our habit, he holds dear to his heart, a terrible secret. This secret ostracizes him from the crowd; he is no longer a man like any other man, no more a regular person but rather a sexual predator. While at college, the narrator offered the girl he brought out on a date as a sexual conquest to his frat brothers; leaving her to rot in the basement where they each took their turn raping her. This secret is revealed to the key holder—the secretary of revival or the perished soul. This man is a man like any other man, too. The reader will not learn too much about him because these details do not matter. Suffice it for the reader to know that this man, allowed hundreds of women to die in a fire in the warehouse of his business. This man is not a man like any other man; this man has a secret that convicted him of murder. Together, the two (2) men banter about their misgivings & misdeeds. They pester the other about who might have committed the worst act; who deserves to be the secretary in Purgatory & who deserves the chance to desecrate a woman all over again. I found this story rather odd. What is the point? What is the reader meant to get from this story? That all men, no matter what kind of man, are bad men? Is the reader meant to conclude that murder is worse than gang rape? Is the reader meant to feel sympathy toward the narrator as he hopes to do better on his return to life, even though they know he’s had this chance before & he never took it? What is the purpose of a story where everyone is both poorly written & despairingly boring? Rather than feel like a well-rounded narrative or a diligently thought-out philosophy about the rivals & perils of man, this story reads as the wet dream for an incel with an ego problem. How utterly devoid of inspiration or depth; this story presents readers with the same scenario that exists in the non-fictional world of their life & yet it asks them to forgive the men who demonize their surroundings because they are just human beings & human beings aren’t perfect. Again, I ask; What is the point? The victim in this story is not the reader’s qualm with religion or the possibility of reincarnation. The victim is a woman; once again brought down by the claws of men. What is the philosophical question that is meant to be posed in this horror of all horrors? The writer includes a section wherein the narrator asks himself if his victim remembers anything at all. Is this man brain dead or simply sticking to what he knows; an intentional devious ignorance? As a consequence of characters without edges or depth, I was left feeling excruciatingly annoyed that this brutal man was allowed the chance to come back & live a life where he would perpetrate violence again. Perhaps, this is the point of the story. Perhaps, this story was written with the ignorant & naive reader in mind; a person who has never wandered the streets of life where the eager harassing voice of a sombre male figure chases them down sidewalks & into their own homes. Maybe, this reader is interested in the premise that presents the duplexity of a person who was loved & had every opportunity in the world to be good but, decided to vandalize the sanity & safety of another person—a woman—because he was a man who had the freedom to do so. I cannot say for certain, as I am not the author. However, what I can say, is that this story left a sickening bile slithering around my teeth; a wave of anger that in this short story, I found myself once again as the person forgotten in a scene that highlights the graphic nature of predators whereas the shadow figure of the depleted is meant to wander through rays of sunlight, silent & stone-faced, holding steady to the rubble of a secret they hold. The morose nature of this story reminds me too much of a riddle without cause; a rhyme with no nature; the jagged age of a social encounter gone awry. The moral grey matter of this story is not, in actuality, the demure of a neutral shade but rather the Jade Egg that lingers in windows & across clear skies & open fields. The terrible person in this story did not need to come back to exist already in the body of someone else. The life after death or the death that wanders alongside us in life is perchance the occurrence of a choice we did not have the freedom to make. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this link ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Oct 18, 2023
|
Jan 05, 2024
|
Paperback
| |||||||||||||||
32
| 
| B0DM4D8RF6
| 3.69
| 29
| May 10, 2022
| Feb 07, 2023
|
it was amazing
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, tou
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters that contain reflections on grief, suicide, the death of a loved one, & others. I have visited this story twice. It brought me into the room with immense sadness cocooned between my shoulder blades. On both such occasions I questioned myself; What drew blood from the stone? I pride myself on asking questions while I read & it is important to me to find words to describe my experience with a story & yet, in both instances, it seems to me; that the river, soothing & strong, of such a delicate nature, fostered my journey down the waterway & no effort to canoe a row would explain away the pull of its practice. When readers are met with such stories they are luckier than the clover hidden away in the field, undisturbed by ravens. One is met with the beauty beheld in storytelling & its mass impact on the species when nestled into idioms of such a delicate nature. The author did not employ any flowers in his garden of sentences & structured timelines; his story spoke depth into itself. Through the dedicated hum of his expression, the premise became the real nature of human life. In its essence, this is a story about a man who is trying to write. He meets a strange elderly man in the town in which he is staying during his hiatus. The elderly man is kind & eccentric in the timidest manner, & our narrator becomes enthralled with he who claims to possess the ability to travel through time. Beyond this relationship, the story explores the nature of impact that our memories hold over our person. Whether these events circumvent the person we wish to be & how we grow past times of old. I will not shy away from admitting that I find the task of reviewing this story daunting. The plot is very simple & yet, listening to the tranquil sound of the decomposing world around these characters as the brain died, was so moving I was dethroned of my habitual stability. LeVar Burton’s narration of stories remains among my all-time favourites. He inserts such a tender tone to reveal intimacy in language; I remain ever grateful for his efforts. While enrapturing in its simplicity, this story is rather morbid. Everyone in this story dies. That is not to say that I think of death as the destroyer of worlds, but rather, this knowledge keys the lock of elemental confidentiality between the reader & the narrator, one would be validated in feeling winded by the end. This leaves me to wonder at the purpose of this story. In all things natural & profound, the keen observer grovels for their place. Readers may interpret this story as a romantic wandering in which the death of the time-traveller is no sad thing. His suicide is but the finality of this memory. On the other hand, one might read this tale & wonder how gravelly we are impacted by the obelisk of an Atlantis in our minds. This review will not seek to lay claim to a superior deduction; I am more inclined to feel comfort in the knowledge that the world & its people will absorb finality in ways that will grant both eternity & closure to them. When trying to express what it was about this story that brought me to the forefront of such emotions I find I am inadequately equipped to express my own inclinations. The tendency to feel a connection to the time-traveller was not adopted by me in my reading. Every character exists as a unit independent of the other. Their plight was something I was both apathetic & sympathetic toward. I knew that this story would end & yet, though my heart halted its palpitated sadness, their death did not feel like an eternal parting. In the next chapter of this life, just as the reader saw with the time-traveller, something else will be living in plenitude; a garden is blooming, rain clouds are snuggling, & people are stationing themselves in the bizarre exchange that is our maladapted community. I am left to feel, as might have been the author’s intention, that the reader is not meant to feel the weight of desecration. The world ends, yes—this is true. The world ends many times for many people, in a multitude of ways, in actuality & metaphorically. However, the eyes that lock in contact or the perfumed aroma of a silky serendipitous apposition, leave me with more hope than despair, that tomorrow, the world that vanishes around me like a painful; an old; a titanous; or perhaps just unexceptional memory, one that is not meant to debase the fulsome crevices of the mind, will call into the wind, a whistle to set the soul at ease. As I am not one to revel in the serrated edge of my person; existing with a wounded need to remain unknown; the villainy in my sudden sadness will remain submerged in the soil of my mind. In that same breath, I reiterate the ease with which the reader might notch themselves to the timber of the falling wood; one does not need to be explicit to be clear. Ultimately, what makes this story so memorable is its gentle sway. On the surface, this is a story about love. At its core, this story remains the tomb in which love goes to die; the heart of humankind. Both of these truths exist in tandem, allowing the other to flourish like the rising dawn adorning a soft sun. Readers who endeavour to decipher this story when it is time will be met with a traveller whose Odysseus’ eagerness for life & lore brought him to the foreign shore of his own life where he was, at last, approached by Charon. It is lovely to stand alone in a room & feel the walls around you ache with the hum of a fictional story in which the layers of life unknown creep in tangible fashion along your skin, piercing the tender flesh like the scabby wounds of the boulder carried by the eternally remembering man on the hill. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this •LINK• ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Nov 24, 2023
|
Dec 24, 2023
|
Audiobook
| |||||||||||||||
33
| 
| unknown
| 3.70
| 159
| unknown
| unknown
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** In art, one finds the monstrous stroke of a pendulum oscillating feathers & gunk from the brush stroke of the unknown. There is scar
**spoiler alert** In art, one finds the monstrous stroke of a pendulum oscillating feathers & gunk from the brush stroke of the unknown. There is scarcely any logic behind the malevolence of a painting that sucks the soul from voyeuristic patrons; no moral to be gained from the tremendous overhaul that exists in the looping ledgers of old. When readers are met with the gore of a decimated figure, they may be inclined to pour colour into the darkened lines of the shapes that cloud their minds as they seek out a clue to the riddle of a story with no clean end. Within the old home of a friend, our narrator comes to stay while post-mortem proceedings take place. The house is something out of a dream, more closely resembling the flourishing wealth of extroversion & luxury; meant purely for entertainment & reputation. The main character is a lover of her friend who, herself, has lost someone dear. The two find themselves near the end of a transitional period of mourning that will lead them down a new road. I should not like to say that a pursued life after death, especially in the case of our two heroines, is an adventure. I am more of the belief that the end of the life of a loved one reveals the terrible portrait of the claustrophobic tomb that it is. To begin at the start, our narrator adopts the reflective tone of someone who has overcome the story at play. Readers soon lose their hold on logic as Jackson’s story delves further into the absurd. One will need to accept that the backward glance of the narrator is not as it seems; one will need to trust that the author has something in mind. Having been a fan of Jackson for many moons, I was pleased to discover that LeVar Burton had brought this story to life with the dull numbing ache of a broken heart & the sullen enthusiasm of a veteran reader. After her husband’s passing Y—the close friend of our narrator—is set to spend a final night in her marital home before moving forward in her life. She sleeps under a painting that is in disrepair; old & rather flimsy, she fears it will crush her in her sleep. The next morning, she is gone. Her vanishing leads others to the professional opinion that she committed suicide but, our narrator knows better. She waits for her in the room with the painting until she sees Y appear, exasperated & troubled, waving her down from the tiny laneway in the art. What ensues is a captivating exercise in longing. Both women are in the company of those who appear to be ghosts—Y’s grandfather & an aunt, both long since departed & deeply insane as a consequence of what might appear to be their captivity. I found the descriptions given to the house inside the painting to be deeply perturbing. It was not so much that the house might be haunted or that the painting is filled with ghosts that troubled me but, rather, the reality of having a consciousness intact while trapped eternally without hope of a saviour. Though this story has no clear ending, I am not of the belief that the purpose of telling stories is for them to be cleanly ended & ready for the consumption of all. Rather like the characters, many readers may be cloistered in various parts of the story without escape. The death of a loved one or the entrapment in a tomb of living nature; the disappearance of a friend; or the possible suicide of someone who was once cheerful; this story presents the total inability of humanity to be unscathed by its experiences. There is a key intimacy that is hidden within these passages, one needs only the patience to arrive at the destination meant special for them. I admit that I thought rather tirelessly about the bodies of the ghosts being tied to a tree in the forest of the painting for all eternity. Were these figures evil or were they simply a product of a magical moment that saw them burdened by their victimhood? Ultimately, the story that we tell ourselves, as the reader, may not align with the actual story we have read. Did the women escape? Did they sacrifice someone else in a bid to regain their freedom? Why was the painting left hanging alone on the wall? What made the painting magic? Just as we become nestled in the familiar spaces of words that speak seemingly, directly to us, so too does the story transform into a whispering tale of gore the likes of which another reader will interpret entirely differently. Overall, a story might only be as powerful as its reader. Granting words permission to enrapture the distinctive sense of self; making the listener a foolish grotesque whence fear pours out; this is a story about the reader & the women who encouraged trickery with simple letters & godly patience. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this •LINK• ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Dec 04, 2023
|
Dec 24, 2023
|
Audiobook
| |||||||||||||||
31
|
| 4.02
| 158
| Aug 2017
| Jul 24, 2018
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** Identity politics does not leave room for nuance; regardless, nuance exists in all things. Perhaps for some groups, there is no grey
**spoiler alert** Identity politics does not leave room for nuance; regardless, nuance exists in all things. Perhaps for some groups, there is no grey; the colour palette is a dual entity. Though it seems odd to those of us who would not lie to become what we are not, the adoption of an alternative truth is common practice. In the lives of people, we cannot understand & do not wish to know, the deep-rooted demise of loathing looms like a cloud, ready to drown out the rivers leading Moses out to sea. In this short story, the narrator is a man who works with the cards he has been given. In the world of this story, your identity can be capitalized upon; you can make money, gain access to jobs, & perhaps have security because no one can take away that which is yours to give; your identity & sense of self. Though this world mirrors our own, readers might find it more enjoyable to believe that people can do this in our realm too. Certainly, one will see opportunities catered to specific groups of people or posters that highlight the ideal candidate, someone other than themselves. The pursuit of equity comes at a cost. The penny might weigh a ton but, it is also out of fashion in my country’s economy so; one need not worry about the price to pay. That is to say; opportunities catered to encouraging an atmosphere & tangible environment of inclusivity—both visually in bodies, culture, & data—require that the doors & the windows of the home remain unlocked. The problem arises when folks believe that opportunities are taken away from them when the yard is watered by a hose & rain. In actuality, one’s own competencies are not in question. Somewhere along the line, we have forgotten what it means to live in society. For the narrator, this feeling is long-standing. The world in which he lives does not appreciate him as one human being might another but rather, he is valued only for his supporting role as the convenient Indian. Where is a person to go when their lives are stolen? In a bid to find himself our narrator works a job that allows him to be who he is. The virtual reality experience provided by his employers allows people to purchase time with an authentic Indigenous person; wandering the plains; being given a Spirit Name; connecting with their Spirit Animal; etc. There is something to be said for the authenticity of a circus that offers culturally sacred practices for a dollar. Certainly, one must survive & what is in a name? Should the question be posed to the reader; What is the value in a name? What is the tie to the Land? Where in the world is your home & your people? The answers they collect might vary because their lives are different from one another. Yet, inside, your name might mean that you are the person who writes a review, who reads a story, one who shares a tale or who weaves creation. Our name is a part of who we are. Therefore, one must ask; What harm befalls the giver of false prophecies? What is interesting about this story is that it makes clear what it is attempting to present. The antagonist visits the narrator under the pretence of connecting to another culture—a culture he claims is his own via the Cherokee relative that may or, may not, be a monarch; who am I to judge but a lonesome Anishinaabe rock? I digress, his pursuits lead him to our narrator & his slow-moving desires overcome the life that the narrator leads. Do we lose parts of ourselves when we share? Over time, multiple pieces of literature have broached this question. Some people are liable to believe that once something is shared, it is never entirely yours again. When we speak of ourselves, even the briefest mention or the shallowest article of our character; this gem lives with those to whom we have gifted this morsel. For others, there is no water in the pond or rather, there is a lake big enough for all to dip their toes. Depending on the reader in question, this story might mean something different. If one were to erase the cultural aspects of this story its essence remains just as moving. However, the cultural reality of the main character’s experience lends itself to a sad tale. The intentional erasure of Indigenous peoples remains rampant in North America. Policies & practices set to devalue Indigenous peoples are purposefully integrated into everyday life. What happens to the narrator is a dramatized version of what happens every day. Rather, what happens to the narrator is possible because the people around him make it easy for this to happen, just like it was easy in my history; just like it was easy in the history of the people I call kin. Remaining authentic to the self means a great deal to us personally. Whether we share parts of ourselves because we are eager for people to emerge from ignorance; to know us better, to understand us, to see who we are. The reality remains that the intention of all pursuits of knowledge is not the earnest acquisition of information. One shelters themselves like the stone that is my name; the marooning whistler in the trees; the icy goo that slithers under bedframes; the boneless handshake; the stranger—friend or foe. This story, though simplistic in nature & style, offers readers the opportunity to place themselves in the virtual world; the way they read stories that best suit their fancy. Maybe this time, the call for diversity or an equal share of meat on the bone will be sliced even & weighed to decimal. Perhaps, readers will appreciate that the essence of who we are is not decided by anyone but ourselves. The path that we walk is the one that nestles smoothly with foliage planted by ancestors with a fondness for a moment they will never see or feel in the skin. If you would like to read this story, please visit this •LINK• ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Nov 14, 2023
|
Nov 14, 2023
|
Audible Audio
| ||||||||||||||||
30
|
| unknown
| 3.75
| 351
| unknown
| unknown
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** As an author, Vonnegut marks himself among the most reputable. Readers of a dedicated nature & constitution rave of prose that trans
**spoiler alert** As an author, Vonnegut marks himself among the most reputable. Readers of a dedicated nature & constitution rave of prose that transports the mind of the consumer with a swift ease rarely found in letters. I have opted for Vonnegut’s short stories more frequently in the past couple of years. I seek out more short stories in a bid to broaden my horizons & have found his own to riddle an intrigue inside me that I am not altogether certain I enjoy. It is no secret that writing in short form is a talent, one I will be the first to admit admiring in others with a wishful fancy. For a short story to succeed one needs to have a very clear idea of the story one endeavours to tell. Vonnegut’s approach to stories adopts a bloated upheaval. The introduction reminds readers that they do not in fact have any real inkling as to where the narration will take them; the author simply asks for our patience as the sentences enumerate phrases into paragraphs. In the case of this story, waiting for a conclusion felt both appropriate & disappointing. The premise of this story is simple; a man comes into a high & growing monetary inheritance after the passing of his paternal grandfather. Herbert Foster seems utterly uninterested in the money that might come his way when he cashes in the bonds that have been sitting with increasing value, year after year. He lives a very normal life with his wife, Alma, & together they make do with what they have. Readers will be required to invest time & therefore energy into Hebert’s character for this story to carry any weight. As I was listening to this audio format I was brought along without much effort on my part. Perhaps as a consequence of my passive listening, I found the stakes rather low. Why should I care whether or not Herbert wanted to cash in on the thousands of dollars that now belonged to him? If one is paying close enough attention, one sees the ways in which fast money—quickly acquired—has a tendency to result in a scarcity of rational decisions. That is not to say that the root of all evil is dollar bills. However, one cannot know for certain whether or not Herbert believes that to be true. The reader may certainly pose judgment on Herbert’s course of action—that is, after all, their role. In essence, one is led to the reveal that Herbert does not want to accept the money for fear of having to give up the secret life he is leading. There are multiple ways of interpreting this decision, none of which are particularly revolutionary. Herbert has married a woman who resembles his late mother in almost incomprehensible ways. Throughout his youth, his mother made sure that Herbert understood that music & passions—the pastimes adopted by his dead-beat father—were out of the question. Herbert was kept under his mother’s thumb & though he felt a longing to hear the melodies of sound play from his fingers, she took away his freedom of music. It is no great mystery therefore that Herbert lived a life in shadows. The wife that he loved was a simple placeholder for the mother who controlled every aspect of his life. This is definitely a sad state of affairs but it leaves me with no desire to pose judgment. It’s not ideal to lie to your spouse. I do not think that any adult who has put effort into maintaining a relationship should be acting in secret contrary to the well-being of their partner & their relationship as a whole. However, Herbert is no different than any of the thousands of people who have internalized trauma & have no way of understanding how to deal with it. The freedom that the money would allow him would mean he would need to confess to being similar to his father who abandoned him—this alone would be a huge toll to pay in order to broach the rest of the situation. The weekends away from his spouse allow him the time to be an individual free from the confines of his inner stifles. The reader will need to decide whether or not they believe this to be a worthwhile thing to lie about. Should we omit parts of ourselves for the well-being of our relationships? If we are living fractioned off from the whole, are we ultimately not living authentically at all? What I found to be tedious about this story is that it is so simple. The simplistic nature of the plot, the moral conundrum, & the pushy greedy longing of a complete stranger render this a tale as old as time. I am not mad at Vonnegut for writing about a man whom we are liable to meet every day; Herbert could be the reader as much as the person who enters the bus after us. The clear approach to this common conundrum may allow readers the opportunity to properly reflect. Would we take a gift that would alter our lives? Would we welcome a change that would require us to transform beyond ourselves? Whatever our personal philosophy or values, Herbert prefers life as it is. No one is harmed in the aftermath of his decision though, I would wager to say that Herbert harbours a great level of self-hatred to continuously shadow himself among collective society & the person who loves him the most. This leads us back to the original question; Can we be loved, treasured, respected, & present if only a fraction of our person is seen, known, & understood? If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this •LINK•. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Sep 27, 2023
|
Oct 22, 2023
| ||||||||||||||||
37
| 
| B0DM24JC6L
| unknown
| 3.55
| 202
| Nov 15, 1998
| Oct 15, 2019
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** Three members of a previous quartet have recently moved into a house near the woods. The Eight ChimneysThis week, a delightful littl
**spoiler alert** Three members of a previous quartet have recently moved into a house near the woods. The Eight ChimneysThis week, a delightful little blue bird chose a tale morbid & decrepit as the antiquated ghost story that haunts its reputation. The fanatics of Horror luring the mind through common tropes of lore & folk stories will linger two seconds too long in the spaces between the words of this story. The protagonists are under the age of ten (10). They are naïve & reek of a boldness in their confidence that is crassly deranged. Left alone in their new home, the twins roam about the property without the guardianship of their parents. The paternal figure is too preoccupied with being an adult to remember that he is also a parent. The maternal figure is dead; deceased by an intention that castrated a disappearing act within the icing sugar life of the gingerbread family’s world. Nothing is explicitly explained to the reader throughout this story. A veteran reader might hobble along the spine of this tale without reaching its tendons through no fault of their own. This is not as enjoyable an experience as it might appear. Tropes of moor & morbidity do well to seethe earnest intent into the words they select in an attempt to nestle reality into a story’s structure. In an intentional bid to forego the anticipated conclusions of the reader, Link gives them permission to draw their own conclusions. The first judgment is posed in the opening lines—the title speaks to nostalgia. The entryway to the story promises an oddity that is incomprehensible but, it will be familiar.—named after the literal eight (8) chimneys that adorn the house—is haunted. Rather than boast of ghosts & ghouls, the walls have stools & steps that allow little feet to get lost within the structure. The villainous poltergeist of personified instruments of head-warming & fashion, carve the skulls of the fantastical with grooves, like teeth on an unsuspecting tongue. Who has murdered the ghosts that fall behind the age of puberty, consent, adolescence, & innocence? Reviewing work that is incomplete is a difficult task. It’s rather tedious to attempt to piece together an interpretation with the appropriate reflections & emphasis, holding true to the knowledge that the author had the opportunity to do that themselves, but did not. Though this story looms like a bloated body in water, the essence of the tale itself is intriguing; one is inclined to float alongside what is already visible in the hopes of understanding what buried the lead. The twins, Claire & Samantha, play at being Dead—capital D. Their game of comfort in finality arose following the death of their own mother. The story presents the absence of maternal figures. The metaphorical representation of motherhood is explored via a dirty glass; a young girl, the babysitter, is adopted as a mother yet she is also described as being nearly the same age as the twins. The visiting group of tourists is littered with mothers—women—who blur as the day passes. It appears that a certain type of person is unable to leave the house unscathed. What might the reader deduce from this? Could one say that a maternal figure, a woman, a girl, is stuck in the stable home that will be her prison & palace once it is deemed necessary for her to scale the walls & slither the floors to clean crevices & crooks? Might we assume that the women in this story, the girls, & the lost mothers are all part of a scheme to punish the apple-bearing fruit lovers of old? As is my habit, I am inclined to read into the symbolism in this story & what better place to start than in a book that is poorly understood & seldom read—the Bible? The woman in the woods who lures the fathers away; the horses running rampant in dreams of wishes & promises; the invisible snakes slithering through the greenery; the loss of innocence & trust; in all of this eight. The number is often associated with otherworldly goodness; the feminine energy. The eight chimneys might be viewed as tunnels out of the palace of man; the house of God; the invisible & adapting voice of the Specialist’s Hat. In ways strangely reminiscent of the complexity of absurdity found in classic Horror—think “Phantasm” (1979)—this story teeters back & forth through two narratives. At once the inner monologue of the twins, the verses presented in brackets & pauses coin the story like a rusty penny. One is meant to feel muddled & confused. Unfortunately, for some of us, confusion does not segway into fear. Rather, the lack of a logical plot may lead certain readers to feel more perturbed by the lack of an explicit nature. Why did the babysitter play with a hat that has human teeth? Where did the hat come from? Is the Specialist just a man who has perfected the art of forgetting his own responsibilities? Or is the Specialist the original tyrant who led men down the path of mortality? I suppose one would need to believe that one person is to blame for all the misfortunes of the world in order to have faith in this explanation. On the opposing side to the fantasy story of fruit being bad for humanity’s vampiric lifespan, one is face to face with the questions that plague the plot. Who is the antagonist? Did the Specialist’s Hat adopt the voice of a parent or did the children cower from their father? Did the children suffocate in the attic or were they dead to the world & in turn, actually out of this world? What drew the fathers to roam the woods? Why were there so many snakes? Is the forest an Eden to male paternal figures? Is the house a Purgatory for female characters? I am left wondering if this is a story that profits off of the inquiring mind. Suppose a reader were to find the toothed hat a bore—would the story still make sense? Suppose the father figures didn’t neglect their children—would the children have become friends at all? The narrative explores the agility of the mind; its own desire to wonder & awe at the simplicity of a single haunted house with quaint key haunting features, spooky only so much as they resemble the haunted place of our minds. Had I been left with no questions, I’m not sure that I would have been so eager to dissect what this story was sharing. Many children play strange & peculiar games. Many parents need time to wander the world on their own. These two things do not a villain or victim make. Yet, one is inclined to conclude, with certainty, that something is amiss. What would the reader be left with if this was simply a story about an Ed Gein figurine, a bit lost, & severely traumatized? Or, what if this were simply a story about an old house & lonely children? Ultimately, what I enjoyed in this story is its inconsequential inaction. The children are possessed; they were always dead; they were haunted & cruel; they are ghosts to their father & mysteries to the town; they are just two twin girls playing in the world of loss & grief. The identity of each of the characters is that of a shadow figure. The reader is given very little—grey eyes, a brooding temperament, solitude & coy memories. Who are these people, really? The eight chimneys, is a reflective piece of strange wanderings & eager readers set to recall the desolate need within to find reason in the absurd tendencies we find each other inclined to practice. Morbid poetry & tender longings; this story is a crisp fingernail across a dusty baseboard. Readers are met with no one in particular; no one they know, nothing of note but, the permeating sense of dread follows them as they crane their necks to search the chimney for signs of disturbed dust moats & hidden keys. If you would like to read this story, please visit this •LINK•. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Aug 09, 2023
|
Sep 21, 2023
|
Audiobook
| ||||||||||||||
29
| 
| B0DM1KFRMG
| 3.64
| 556
| Mar 10, 2014
| Mar 10, 2014
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** There is little way to birth the story that speaks of consequence. The reader is meticulously swaddled, coddled & cooed. The author
**spoiler alert** There is little way to birth the story that speaks of consequence. The reader is meticulously swaddled, coddled & cooed. The author in question, an operatic monsoon undulating repose of the fable they hold. In so doing, Li has arranged the sentences perfectly. Welcoming me back into her graces like a fresh bundle of joy, as though for the first time, though we have met before. I seem to forget that the stories this author crafts are delicate. They invite me to a new lair; a worn Chesterfield; depravity & luxury; all nesting the day-to-day of people who are their own demise. In the United States, Auntie Mei enters & exits the homes of new mothers. She is strict with her approach. Nearly making an equation of the relationships she builds. In an effort to remain neutral, to foster only a shell of warm skin to a sweat-drenched & worried alcove of motherhood, Auntie Mei remains possessed by the demon who feels nothing that is not ultimately intended for her. The reader notes the disconsolate approach the protagonist undertakes to perform her job & wonders, perhaps, how a person could be so insightful of the needs of new life while slowly decaying themselves. One cannot necessarily blame Auntie Mei for the way she approaches her work or her life. The pearl she holds has been sold. Readers are allowed to believe whatever it is they so choose. Ultimately, it does not matter if one believes Auntie Mei to be a deity or a devil; she is a woman trying to make her way in a world that has no room for her & is not prepared to make space. The author makes no false promises & offers no form of diligent information sharing that might lighten the load on the reader. This story follows Auntie Mei as she is met with what might be her final round. Once upon a time, not so very long ago, also known as yesterday, & the day before, women were not taken seriously. Birthing a child, bringing life into the world, & the preparation for a new human being, all require a toll to be paid & one person fronts the bill. Certainly, we evolve to be better than the alleged barbarians of old. However, much of the punishment of labour begins far sooner than the contraction alerting the body of breech. To be in a bad way, to be unprepared, uninterested, toiled; the bearer of hardships unspoiled by words & collectivity renders a solitary existence that might exceed the thousand-yard stare of the man in the 40-day desert. Li’s character does not acknowledge Postpartum Depression as a condition, let alone one that might alleviate its force on the brain of a new mother; the bearer of new & bright life. This dynamic places the reader in the middle of the ground with no centre. While the reader is inclined to bring facets of their reality into their reading experience, so too do the characters. The mother in question, whose chosen nomenclature is Chanel—like the sympathizing French girl once an impoverished dreamer—never wanted to be a mother. Chanel is anything but prepared or enthusiastic about her condition. She is rather unperturbed by the needs her child has for her. The situation presented in this story masticates the written word; the sheltered word; the truth. Chanel is playing a game with pons & ploys to win the attention of a man who was once married to someone else, all intending to cause pain to her father. Auntie Mei cares for the child she fears might die, to the detriment of her rules that keep her disconnected from the humanity she tends to. Both women are slightly antagonistic to themselves while vying through a life that they did not plan to lead. Overall, though this story was good & enticing, I appreciated it most thanks to the narration of Samantha Hunt. Via The New Yorker’s podcast, my morning started with the introduction to two women who lived shadowed in the American lifestyle hopeful from abroad. Hopeful for the change that might not follow them, this mundane normalcy of expectation & business that is commonly known. A hope that life did not need to be the way it was for everyone else, with them. Readers saunter the grounds of a mansion in the dreaming state of being. The meticulous shred of money, vanity, healing, & the despair that is carried via the recollection of memories we forget that we keep. Li remains a writer I find in the pages, by surprise. Her talented foresight of the road ahead gives me time to look back, hoping to find the sign that might reveal to me the way ahead. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this •LINK•. Thank you to NetGalley, 4th Estate and William Collins, & Yiyun Li for the free copy of "Wednesday’s Child" (2023) - the anthology in which "A Sheltered Woman" is featured - in exchange for an honest review! ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Jul 17, 2023
|
Jul 22, 2023
|
ebook
| |||||||||||||||
38
| 
| 0571382029
| 9780571382026
| 0571382029
| 3.98
| 17,876
| Aug 31, 2023
| Aug 29, 2023
|
really liked it
|
**spoiler alert** The minutia of Cathal’s life is like the slow rumbling of an ancient steam engine. In the evenings his cottage-style home is perhaps
**spoiler alert** The minutia of Cathal’s life is like the slow rumbling of an ancient steam engine. In the evenings his cottage-style home is perhaps less earthy & rather more concrete. During the day, his cubicle is shadowed by the memory of the sun that never shines for him. On this day, like every other, Cathal finds himself alone. The day is nearing its end but, at a speed that is too quick. Cathal does not want to go home. The hours of the working clock remind the daylight that it is time to dim; rays of shimmer slowly rebound into the body of the star as the main character must face himself in darkness once more. I came across this story via the « New Yorker: Fiction » Podcast. One night, as I found myself riddled with a familiar dread, the darkness looming like an old dead friend—I searched for a story to be read. It should come as no surprise that memories of stories told to me still help me find peace in the stale air of insomnia. On this evening—deep into the night—I wanted something other than the novel; a pilgrimage over many mountainous chapters. Perhaps it was chance that had us meet in this way, Keegan & I. Her books are among the piles in my home, none of which I have read—all of which carry titanous reputations with them. The main character in this book feels almost too dull to be real. His personality is so tangible the reader might find themselves with the sour taste of copper in their gums. Cathal reeks of mundanity & yet he is so much more. Having listened to this story narrated to me by the author I was able to form a concrete image of Cathal in my mind, & as they say, the faces we meet in dreams are not unfamiliar to us. I am inclined to believe that this image I hold of the man rummaging through trash bags of memories is the face of a person I once knew. Keegan’s writing shapes the characters so that they are real—as real to the reader as the people & places we pass on the street every day. The reader comes to find out that Cathal is stuck in the memory of the past. Once upon a time, he met a woman whom he enjoyed spending time with. Their collective moments are spent in proximity; a closeness that stems from longing. Yet, as all good fairytales do, theirs came to a halt. The mangled maniacal intergenerational bastardization of love ruined Cathal’s ever after. The reader is given an intimate view of the ways in which Cathal was raised; the house he lived in, the family that shaped his reality, & the young person that he was. In truth, Cathal becomes more of a friend to the reader through these instances. Were it as though Cathal was fighting to remain unknown, the reader—living & breathing within the dissociated world alongside the characters—plays witness to the antagonist of the story as he plays the villain to his son’s life, long after death. We come to the part in the story that I appreciated the most. As Keegan recounts the days that led up to the demise of Cathal’s engagement we also see the battle that wages on still water. Though the main character feels rather coy in his absurdities & though his insouciance is ludicrous in its paranoia, Cathal was once just a boy who was raised in a house with a man who treated vulnerability as a desolate performance. Readers are often encouraged to choose a side while reading. One is asked to highlight the villain, name the foe, & classify the obstacle as a worthy cause or a dull consequence. The timid nature of the reader, as a tertiary monolith to Stonehenge, leaves one with bee stings to the behind. Is the reader correct in stating that Cathal should have learnt to overcome the needless aggression of his father? Is an adult meant to forget their childhood’s spending habits? How much empathy is the reader meant to pour into the gullet of the character who reeks of decay? Rather than steady the reader, Keegan allows each partisan the opportunity to remain neutral. The nuanced existence of her character shadows the reader’s reality. I would wager to say that many, if not all, of us, have been in a situation where the cagey goblin of our past sullied the way forward. The outburst of anger one witnesses by Cathal feels rather like self-loathing, a self-inflicted punishment; to be the man his father raised him to be, all along. Though Cathal fights against the stream of expectation & normalization of his youth, he falls victim to his self-loathing. Had he not been so stingy with money—had his father gifted his mother anything other than a curdled snort; maybe things might have been different. Had he not hesitated to share space—had his father lived in a house made home by the loved ones near; maybe things might have been different. What is rather difficult to accept in this story is the repercussions of what can not be changed. That is not to say that one cannot try to be better. However, yesterday is never today, ever so much as we wish it were. The clock’s familiar & constantly numbered hands revisit the hours but we do not. Ultimately, this story explores how a man lost the woman he loved as a consequence of being who he is. One may ask themselves if it’s really his fault that he was raised under the stress of a loveless parentage. Others may easily point fingers to blame, after all, Cathal is a grown man. What one might be inclined to forget is how near our tendencies are to us. Maybe Cathal will get a second chance or maybe he will find someone new. The story leaves off with a locked door & a judgemental man seething solitary in the Irish countryside. Can we blame him or is he, in fact, to blame? What the reader will be met with, alongside Keegan’s ease of prose & tender tension between the tendons that maneuver the man, is a person who treated someone else as if they mattered less than his possessions. Love is not always enough; one can love with all one’s heart & still be left at the door. One can love with all one’s might & still need to keep strength aside for fighting personal demons. The cost of a ring, the shared bathroom counter space, the home-cooked meals & the ideology of marriage & romance; none of these matters as much as the intention to make love worth more than the sterile cup we pour it into. No heart is silent, unabated by the quotidian of being alive. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit The New Yorker: Fiction ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Jul 08, 2023
|
Jul 16, 2023
|
ebook
| |||||||||||||
28
| 
| unknown
| 4.01
| 166
| unknown
| unknown
|
it was ok
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, tou
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that most of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the book's subject matters & those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on grief, body decomposition, the death of an animal, the death of a loved one, & others. Taking into account the greed that rivets the hearts of a pioneer, Osborne transports readers into the universe. Amongst the stars, gigantic planetary spheres, & ominous space creatures, the reader meets a trio of comrades heading back to their space station following a hunt for profit. Having encountered something akin to a whale of the skies, the trio decides to hunt it for the bounty it might bring them back home. I have little to say about this story because I can’t truly call it to mind. While listening to LeVar Burton’s narration I found myself admittedly uninterested in the plot & rather tied to the story by the narration alone. The efforts that LeVar has put forward in his podcast « LeVar Burton Reads » bring the reader (the listener) into the world of the story after a deep breath & the permission granted to begin. After massacring the animal they learn that the radiation emitted exceeds anything that their own species (presumably humans) can sustain via exposure. The trio begins to decompose until they are absorbed by new forms—a spaceship, the innards of the dead animal, & the memory of love. Perhaps, had I found myself more immersed in the plot itself I would have been able to draw interest in the malaise that the trio experienced. Rather than be drawn to emote empathy, I found myself wondering why they would have been so careless as to kill something that might lead to their own terrible demise. Maybe this is the point. Maybe this story is meant to lead the reader to the uncomfortable reminder that things are not always done under the guise of reasonable decision-making. Within this narrative, we are encouraged to remember that two of the members of the ship were in love & therefore, their separation due to mortality is dreadful. Yet, they never run away. They remain with the hope that they might still cultivate profit from their poor choices. The similarities between, often times cheeky or trite, decisions that we make in life to the narrative at play are stark & rather depleting. I shall leave the final concluding thoughts of reflection to the discretion of the reader. When faced with certain death via a brutal cellular catastrophic breakdown, would you run or would you long see gold mines cascade your legacy, paying ultimately with your life, no matter what. For myself, I rather think that there is a third option—letting life be still & untouched by our soiled hands but, that is not how this story goes. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this •LINK• ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Apr 15, 2023
|
Apr 23, 2023
| ||||||||||||||||
27
| 
| B0DM2G87T6
| 3.93
| 1,596
| Feb 01, 2006
| Jun 12, 2017
|
liked it
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on abortions, psychological distress, insinuations of violent crime, & others. In a world devastated by hostilities, the reader is met with a scene that is familiar; a terrain that boasts of stars, mountains, & seas. Between these raging landscapes are the worlds that resemble our own. In the rooms where a young boy is left to mind his own, the gruesome, gargling, stature of an alien looms in the corners. The young boy has asked over 90 different aliens of the same race for help. His mother is with child but, according to the governing bodies that be, this is not allowed. The world is too populated, there are too many problems & too few resources—she must terminate the pregnancy. I will attribute a great deal of my enjoyment of this story to the reading skills of LeVar Burton. The efforts that he has put forward in his podcast « LeVar Burton Reads » bring the reader (the listener) into the world of the story after a deep breath & the permission granted to begin. There will always be a fondness in my heart for the people in this world who allowed my love of books to have been cultivated as it was. I remain a better version of myself because of their dedication. The audio version of this book shapes the atmosphere. I recognized that I was invested in the backstory of the alien & I wanted to know the dynamics of his decision. Why did he choose to go forward & help this strange child? What does it mean to be kin? Depending on the reader, the answers to those questions might vary. Is it enough to recognize ourselves in the eyes of another, for us to move through life well-intentioned to ensure our spirited kin are safe? Again, this is a question that allows readers the opportunity to answer in a multitude of ways. I have seen other reviewers state that they would have appreciated it if this story ran a bit longer & I am inclined to agree. Although, saying as much somewhat discounts the purpose of the narrative. We do not necessarily need a thousand hours with someone to understand the role we might play in our interactions with them. A single stone impacts the tranquillity of any body of water it enters. I think that because this story was so short—so brief—it allowed the reader to focus on the elements that meant the most to them, whatever that might mean. Even now, I find myself reflecting on which aspect of the story struck me as the most important or the most impactful. I cannot say for certain. The despair that sloshed through the heart of the boy was enough to remind me of the feeling within me. I am perhaps biased in this regard as I am the eldest of four (4) children & I remember what it was like to see each of them be brought home; how excited I was to have this new forever friend. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to stand in the emptiness of this house knowing that the comfort of a sibling was being taken away from him before he even had the chance to welcome them home. I would like to highlight that this is not to be taken as a stance against the choice of the bearer of life; the person who is pregnant has the full weight of my support, at all times, to choose. My sentiments in this review are of a purely reflective nature in tandem with the narrative at play. Both of the young boy’s parents wanted to have this child. Their personal decision was to give birth to the eggs they fertilized. Meaning, that in this case, I welcome the sadness that instilled itself in all of the characters as the agency over their lives; the agency over the body of the mother, the person who was pregnant, was stripped from her. I should say that, had I read this story myself, I might not have enjoyed it quite as much. I am left in a reflective state on how each of the scenes might find themselves in our non-fictional world. Why did the alien leave the boy all of his possessions? I suppose that this is a silly question. Why do we ever do any of what we choose to do? Is it worthwhile to question the goodness in the unnamed actions of others? In this case, I think it is enough to look upon the choices of the alien & feel appreciation that someone, lightyears away & of a different kind of life, was hoping for the best for children stuck in a place that gave them no upper hand. In my opinion, that is a very nice thought, indeed. If you would like to listen to this story, please visit this •LINK• ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Feb 23, 2023
|
Feb 23, 2023
|
Audiobook
| |||||||||||||||
26
| 
| unknown
| 3.89
| 8,015
| 2014
| unknown
|
did not like it
|
It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on th
It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on suicide, self-mutilation, substance abuse, & others. Scrolling the endless threads which help guide me towards the stories which leave readers feeling more petrified than is humanly natural, I came across several users who bolstered insanely high praise for this short story. I, as well as King himself, acknowledge that fear is a subjective experience. What one finds terrifying might lead another to giggle profusely into cupped hands. I suppose that is what I enjoy the most about the Horror genre — it is truly the luck of the draw. Before reviewing the piece itself, I want to praise Luke Paron who narrated this story. If you have about an hour & twenty-eight minutes to spare, I would highly recommend having Paron’s video play in the background as you allow, what may prove to be a spooky story, to waft into the corners of your mind. I am disappointed but unsurprised by my experience with this story. Perhaps had the environment & time in which I listened been different, I would have reluctantly been making my way through but, it’s a chilly March afternoon & truly, there are no exterior reasons for me to hear this story & encourage me to feel afraid. I suppose when I feel that a selective scene that is drawn-out begins to meander into something that I wanted it to be earlier, I find myself drifting. For example, hearing someone say that their brother was eaten by a pack of wolves—I am meant to picture this happening & yet, I am left, instead, wondering what one expects from moseying around wolf territories. This is completely my own fault. I am often too eager to read a spooky story all the while cognizant that it might probably leave me wanting. I have yet to find the middle ground of feeling excited to read something new without weighing down my own experiences with the insanely high hopes I keep cooped up inside my heart. To whom would I recommend this story? To those who have an afternoon in which the light from the sun is hidden behind rain clouds, perhaps, or, to those who are huddled inside during an overly crisp autumn day. Certainly to those who appreciate & enjoy visual horrors. I have come to learn, most, unfortunately, that I prefer the inducement of fear into my mind—seeping into my psyche like a leaking faucet. Objectively speaking, King’s writing was enticing & intriguing; he’s a good author, I’m sure his reputation precedes him on that front. Other reviewers have stated that they enjoyed the film adaptation of this story & perhaps I will as well. I suppose it takes a special type of reader to fully engulf themselves into the position in which the main character found himself. I would not outwardly dissuade anyone from reading this story. I should hope that you have a better experience than I did. I recognize that I am on the insignificant monitory with my views. Therefore, if you can picture yourself standing in a room in which numerical repetitions are intentioned to haunt the conscious awareness, where wallpaper is porous like the skin draped over your bones; wherein a deformed entity inhabits the invisible, where the mind cannot grasp the red thread of reality, you may certainly enjoy the thrill of this tale. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Mar 28, 2022
|
Mar 28, 2022
| ||||||||||||||||
25
| 
| 1408866943
| 9781408866948
| B08W57L2PV
| 3.71
| 1,035
| Aug 19, 2021
| Aug 19, 2021
|
it was ok
|
This story follows Laetitia Rodd is an established second instalment of her case as a private detective in 1853 England. The reader is exposed to a dr
This story follows Laetitia Rodd is an established second instalment of her case as a private detective in 1853 England. The reader is exposed to a dreary & dark scene wherein the complicated relationships amongst the actors of a theatre intertwine with the murky aristocracy of the times. Though Laetitia is written as an insightful, dedicated, independent character, I struggled very deeply to find any motivation to continue listening to this audiobook & ultimately could not finish. When I requested this story I had hoped to listen to a cozy, dark, mystery that took place in the scenery which I have been unfamiliar with; the theatre. I reached the 14% mark & found that I had barely been paying attention to the story & often found myself hard-pressed to try & resume my listening. I will attribute this to the fact that some stories are better off reading rather than being told. I did enjoy Sasha Higgins’ narration. I do think she was the appropriate choice for the job. I don’t think my lack of desire to continue this book was in any way accredited to her. Perhaps, had I begun with the first instalment I might have been pulled into the quirky way that Laetitia & her brother interact. Maybe had I read this book via hardcover I would not have felt like such a third-party player in the story. Unfortunately, I did. When we are first introduced to the conflict of the story I felt that it was difficult to care. Perhaps, this story would thrive on the shelves set for younger audiences or those for whom a long-winded mystery is their cup of tea. As for myself, I was not the target audience & therefore encourage you to take my review with a spoonful of salt. If you enjoy this type of book, set in this type of scene, you will surely enjoy this one too. Thank you to NetGalley, Dreamscape Media & Kate Saunders for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review! ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Dec 30, 2021
|
Dec 30, 2021
|
Kindle Edition
| |||||||||||||
24
| 
| 9781954007314
| unknown
| 3.85
| 5,350
| Jan 25, 2022
| Dec 16, 2021
|
it was ok
|
It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on th
It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on infertility, body shaming, & others. This story followed Gemma as she settles herself on the decision to pursue In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) in the hopes of being able to become a mother through the method of carrying her own child. This decision arises after being diagnosed with Endometriosis very early in her adult life, subsequently resulting in her being ridiculed for years on end by everyone around her who was made aware of the physical toll operations took on her body & the unfortunate decision made by her husband to pursue extramarital affairs instead of approaching his sudden decision to have children in a mature fashion. Gemma’s wild & unfounded infatuation with her brother’s best friend, Josh, results in her electing him as her desired sperm donor after sitting in a conversation with her practitioner & rather than voicing her need for a toilet break, spews lies so that she can evade the elongation of the appointment. I requested access to this story because I thought that it might approach infertility in a way that was refreshing & not doused in negativity. I find that it is often better & more enjoyable to read about a story in which someone might not necessarily have to wade through obstacles & traumas to get to the value of an experience. For example, we did not need to read phrases at end of Gemma’s mother calling her ‘fat’, we did not need for her to be constantly ridiculed by literally everyone around her due to scar tissue which formed on visually available sections of her body, we did not need for this character to be an absolute bolder-for-brains; this story could have profited of having more characters which resided actively in the current time period of medically available research, information & resources. It would have also been incredibly wonderful to not have to read about someone who experiences what many people in the real world do, in such a way as to render the reader disinterested in their well-being & development. I acknowledge that this was not a story that had me in mind as the target audience. However, that being said, I found it difficult to suspend my disbelief throughout the entirety of the story. By the 45% mark, I was incredibly uninterested in Gemma as the main character & really began to wonder how her family had failed her so utterly that she would be dedicated to putting her body through an intense exercise (pregnancy) whereas there are thousands upon thousands of children who would benefit from adoption into healthy safe homes. I wondered why Gemma was so intent on pursuing things that she had researched very little yet, which required an incredibly steep investment fee. While meeting with the support group for the first time, Gemma learns that IVF often does not ‘take’/’work’ the first round & is honestly shocked by this discovery. I was confused as to why. Perhaps this would have been the moment to pump the breaks & really reflect upon your level of understanding before tossing money at a process that has an unfortunate ‘unsuccessful’ rate amongst its users. I do not mean to be insensitive, what I mean is that Gemma seems to be approaching the personal endeavour of carrying her baby to term as though it is the only option, as well as her randomly pursuing having children for reasons which are never really explored. Gemma would benefit from some actual love; a person who would sit her down & explain to her that her value as a human being does not stem from being ‘able’ or ‘willing’ to carry a baby to term in her body but from her values, ethics, her person as is. Instead, we read about a grown adult who has been raised to feel utterly useless & rotten as a human being because she experienced a condition that was out of her control & resulted in everyone around her treating her like garbage for her entire adult life. It’s sad & I don’t particularly enjoy books of this kind because I can’t imagine having difficulty in conceiving a child, only to pick up this book & read about people chastising someone for those same experiences. I also do not feel as though any of the obstacles presented added any deep &/or revolutionary details to the story. To be honest, I found it really difficult to read about Gemma’s mom telling her that she was a piece of shit person because she was ‘fat’ & that no one wanted to be with a ‘fat’ divorcee who couldn’t birth their own children. I understand that some people do in fact live through this type of dialogue & it’s absolutely vile. However, what did it bring to the story except to propel the main character through delusions rendered into concrete action—i.e. IVF treatments to prove her worth rather than being pursued for the desire to foster love & positive healthy growth for another human being which, is a lifetime commitment. Overall, this book read as being about very immature adult people sailing through life without ever taking the time to fully comprehend the decisions & repercussions those actions would have on them & those around them. I wasn’t interested in any of the characters because I found nothing redeeming about them & could not imagine myself spending my days with them — i.e. I would not want to be friends with any of these characters, therefore, reading about their antics which might bring a child into the world was, unfortunately, exhausting. I can see why some people might thoroughly enjoy this story. There is enough exploration of topics that do affect a multitude of people, for the story to be pertinent. However, the characters lacked a great deal of depth & for me, this took away from the potential weight the story could have held. Had Gemma been someone with any forethought or grasp of life in any terms, I would have possibly been able to look past some of her antics. However, I kept having to remind myself that this person was well into their adult life & shouldn’t be so ignorantly pursuing actions that require a huge amount of life-altering preparation. Having listened to this book via audio, I want to highlight that Erin Mallon’s narration style was good & I did enjoy her take on the story & the characters. I will note that, structurally, I think this story might have benefitted from dual perspectives. It would have been interesting to read about Josh & his take on the situation & his development as a character. We read so much of Gemma’s perspective of him while they were growing up that I would have liked to know more about his first-person point of view throughout the years & especially while Gemma was ridding the mind-numbing coattails of the self-help guru. Thank you to NetGalley, Swift & Lewis Publishing, LLC & Sarah Ready for the free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review! ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Dec 30, 2021
|
Dec 30, 2021
|
Audiobook
| ||||||||||||||
23
| 
| B0DLSCWPHG
| unknown
| 3.82
| 50,915
| Sep 28, 2021
| Sep 28, 2021
|
it was ok
|
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, theref
**spoiler alert** It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on distorted body image, eating disorders, distorted eating, & others. I will preface my review by stating that Romance is not my preferred genre. I, more often than not, find it difficult to enjoy & am usually left disappointed by tropes & storylines; employed simply for their idealization of situations which should not be romanticized. I continue to try books found within the genre because, deep down, I am a romantic at heart & I want to find a cozy story that reflects honest & true romance. Unfortunately, this was not said book. I enjoyed the first couple of chapters of this book as the plot was introduced & we got a feel for the small town in which Ivy had just settled herself, after a divorce which left her feeling disheartened & jaded. Once we pass the initial introduction of the characters, their quirks, & the ways in which they fit into the storyline, I was not impressed with the direction the book took. I want to touch on the introduction of eating disorders into this story. I will take full ownership that my feelings towards said subject matter are influenced by my actually living through the illness & it being something that unfortunately remains present in my life through a process of continued recovery. Therefore, when stories brazenly introduce a character as having an eating disorder or tendencies which are taken lightly, I find it very overwhelming to continue moving through a book. This may not be the case for everyone. When we are reading about Ivy’s friend (whose name I really cannot for the life of me, remember) not eating for days/weeks, & her claiming she still has x-amount of pounds to lose before she can meet the man she’s been in a virtual relationship with, I was automatically put-off. Why did this need to be part of the book? I think what’s important to remember when incorporating topics such as eating disorders or even, disordered eating tendencies, is to ask oneself: what does this bring to the story? If you are simply introducing disordered eating because it seems to add ‘edges’ to the character, please do not do so. If you are adding it so that the topic is explored in a way that sheds light in a healthy format while stimulating character-to-character discussion regarding the horrific repercussions of disordered eating, by all means, proceed. The reason we should be asking ourselves questions when introducing heavy topics is that when we do not; when we simply give someone an ‘arch’ because they need something ‘more’ to them than simply being (in this case) a cat-fishing dud; we are not doing justice to the actual subject matter & are therefore adding to a negative dialogue. There was no need for the character in this book to have disordered eating. The lady was a catfish & was forcing her friend to answer for her rude behaviour. Her starving herself brought nothing to the story except reinforce the thought/dialogue that another person’s weight is the primary indicator of attractiveness. Therefore, having this aspect in the story added nothing to the plot, nothing to the character’s development or depth. It should not have been brazenly introduced. Because this was such a very short story, I feel that I didn’t really waste my time. The narration of the audiobook by Kathleen McInerney was so well done, that I was able to make it through the story without feeling as though this was a terrible mistake. However, I really wish that there was more depth to each of the characters. Ivy felt so naive & young; someone who really had no clue about anything. A lot of the dialogue felt introduced for the sake of continuing the story without reason. Her visiting Mr. Jones (I cannot remember any of their names…) was nice & added something sweet & diverse to the events of the story. However, his dialogue was riddled with embarrassment. Their conversations felt forced, as though there weren’t a thousand things to talk about with a person who had lived such a full life. Yet here we were reading about them discussing Ivy’s cheating husband. I digress, I know this advances the plot but, it’s annoying to read. All-in-all, this was an OK book. If you are looking for a read which is something like a Hallmark Christmas movie, look no further. The story is very cheesy, cozy-Christmas-y. There isn’t a huge amount of depth to the story which might make you feel overwhelmed by the conflicts. I can see why so many people have enjoyed this book & that’s great but, it wasn’t for me. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Dec 23, 2021
|
Dec 24, 2021
|
Audiobook
| ||||||||||||||
22
| 
| 9781427221742
| unknown
| 3.90
| 99,112
| 2004
| Jul 31, 2012
|
it was ok
|
I have struggled with my review since finishing the audiobook. When I started listening to this story I hadn't any inkling as to what the plot was abo
I have struggled with my review since finishing the audiobook. When I started listening to this story I hadn't any inkling as to what the plot was about & after enjoying the first couple moments of the narration, decided to pursue the entire book. I cannot say that there was any specific moment which stood-out to me as being particularly astounding, memorable or thoroughly enjoyable. Neither was there anything that was particularly disagreeable, horrendous or unpleasant. This was simply a book that I read & that is that. If you are seeking something which isn't too much of any which thing; a plot which has characters who are not very incredibly explored but, at the same time, seem to reflect interesting particulars of real life human beings - this might be a story you will enjoy. My main point of contention with the story was the lack of any communication at all, amongst almost every character. Everyone was written as being decent human beings but then, when it came time to express something, to communicate something - everyone fell flat as though that had never been something which had arisen for them in the years spent amongst other people. I can understand a couple times but, having a conversation with the child you love, raised & spent 18 years adoring, regarding their adoption is not the time for filler words when the truth should have been put forth but, who am I to speak on being an adoptive parent. In any case, not a terribly wonderful nor horrible book. Simply a well-narrated & quaint story. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Nov 18, 2021
|
Nov 18, 2021
|
Audiobook
| ||||||||||||||
21
| 
| 9781662052392
| 4.48
| 3,765
| Sep 01, 2020
| Nov 11, 2020
|
it was amazing
|
An audiobook so bewilderingly beautiful; enthrallingly touching & tender, I am humbled, appreciative & mesmerized by Scott's writing, the metaphors &
An audiobook so bewilderingly beautiful; enthrallingly touching & tender, I am humbled, appreciative & mesmerized by Scott's writing, the metaphors & the reality which is explored in this story.
...more
|
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Nov 07, 2021
|
Nov 07, 2021
|
Audiobook
| |||||||||||||||
20
| 
| 0062890050
| 9780062890054
| 0062890050
| 3.36
| 19,351
| Sep 24, 2019
| Sep 24, 2019
|
did not like it
|
**spoiler alert** As a seasoned reader, I have come to learn that I prefer stories that incorporate some relevant, factual, & truthful information int
**spoiler alert** As a seasoned reader, I have come to learn that I prefer stories that incorporate some relevant, factual, & truthful information into the plots of books which take place in our world. That is to say, books that are not dealing with Magical Realism but very much the plain old mother earth that we know & love. I am also very much aware of the fact that I am not someone who enjoys Romance novels. I will continue to make efforts to find the sub-genre of Romance that does not leave me feeling annoyed or off-put but, until such a time as I find what I am hoping for, here we are. I have no first-hand experience with natural disasters that do not involve snow. I was looking forward to reading a story that dealt with a geographical location & subsequently its meteorology, in a way as to leave me with more knowledge than I had previously. Rather than find myself rooting for a character who made rational decisions I found myself reading about Bree, the protagonist, who was so beyond nonsensical that it made me question whether or not I was reading a satirical piece. In all honesty, I could not make it over the halfway mark. The series of events that transpired up until the middle was preposterous. I found Bree's decision to refuse to evacuate to be ludicrous & her blatant dismissal of government imposition bizarre on a multitude of levels. How, as a pet owner, do you decide to use your pet as a scapegoat; a reason to stay behind during a natural disaster in which you most certainly will perish? This made no sense to me. Knowing that she had an elderly animal who was triggered by any changes to their environment, Bree decides to stay in town so that her pet does not have to feel the stresses of travel. All this while a Hurricane is looming. It is your responsibility to ensure the safety & well-being of your animal. That does not include keeping them hostage while you sacrifice yourself to a Hurricane. Bree's reasoning behind refusing to evacuate was that she did not want to 'run away' anymore. She found herself living in this town because she had 'run away' & now that something was threatening her stay she refused to be the victim of her stale personality. This doesn't need to be said but, a natural disaster is not the same thing as personal struggles. You can leave an area of geography in the hopes of surviving another day & still learn to communicate in a healthy way to ensure that you feel comfortable & confident in the place you are at in life. People were constantly bending over backwards to assist Bree. What really boggled my mind was her inability to show her gratitude. She acted as though every single person in her environment were an antagonist. I understand that Bree had gone through some less-than-stellar situations in the past. I am not trying to say that anyone who has experienced trauma should be quick to trust any stranger. However, this is a person who is in their mid-twenties. At some point, you have to decide that you want to live a life you enjoy & not be bogged down by the horrors of your past. You have to give yourself the chance to enjoy & trust & love. To put it plainly, the people in this town have been there for years, in some cases decades. When they tell you that you need to evacuate, please believe them. How are you going to come at me straight-faced & say that it's smart for you to ride your scooter around town on the eve of an impending Hurricane? That is simply bewildering. I will applaud Piper Goodeve for her stellar narration of this audiobook. I was hooked instantly, though the plot left much to be desired. I would not suggest this book. There's no real depth or intrigue to the story & more often than not, things made little to no sense & were ultimately frustrating to read about. ...more |
Notes are private!
|
1
|
not set
|
Oct 22, 2021
|
Oct 22, 2021
|
Audiobook
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
my rating |
|
|
||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
39
|
| 4.09
|
liked it
|
Feb 20, 2024
|
Feb 20, 2024
|
|||||
36
|
| 3.46
|
really liked it
|
Oct 31, 2023
|
Jan 25, 2024
|
|||||
35
|
| Liu, Ken
*
| 4.15
|
liked it
|
Nov 03, 2023
|
Jan 25, 2024
|
||||
34
|
| 3.55
|
it was ok
|
Oct 18, 2023
|
Jan 05, 2024
|
|||||
32
|
| 3.69
|
it was amazing
|
Nov 24, 2023
|
Dec 24, 2023
|
|||||
33
|
| 3.70
|
liked it
|
Dec 04, 2023
|
Dec 24, 2023
|
|||||
31
|
| 4.02
|
liked it
|
Nov 14, 2023
|
Nov 14, 2023
|
|||||
30
|
| 3.75
|
liked it
|
Sep 27, 2023
|
Oct 22, 2023
|
|||||
37
|
| 3.55
|
liked it
|
Aug 09, 2023
|
Sep 21, 2023
|
|||||
29
|
| 3.64
|
liked it
|
Jul 17, 2023
|
Jul 22, 2023
|
|||||
38
|
| 3.98
|
really liked it
|
Jul 08, 2023
|
Jul 16, 2023
|
|||||
28
|
| 4.01
|
it was ok
|
Apr 15, 2023
|
Apr 23, 2023
|
|||||
27
|
| 3.93
|
liked it
|
Feb 23, 2023
|
Feb 23, 2023
|
|||||
26
|
| 3.89
|
did not like it
|
Mar 28, 2022
|
Mar 28, 2022
|
|||||
25
|
| 3.71
|
it was ok
|
Dec 30, 2021
|
Dec 30, 2021
|
|||||
24
|
| 3.85
|
it was ok
|
Dec 30, 2021
|
Dec 30, 2021
|
|||||
23
|
| 3.82
|
it was ok
|
Dec 23, 2021
|
Dec 24, 2021
|
|||||
22
|
| 3.90
|
it was ok
|
Nov 18, 2021
|
Nov 18, 2021
|
|||||
21
|
| 4.48
|
it was amazing
|
Nov 07, 2021
|
Nov 07, 2021
|
|||||
20
|
| 3.36
|
did not like it
|
Oct 22, 2021
|
Oct 22, 2021
|
Loading...
