Does a dead body still have potential energy or does it get transferred into something else? Can potential energy just evaporate into nothingness? ThaDoes a dead body still have potential energy or does it get transferred into something else? Can potential energy just evaporate into nothingness? That’s the question I don’t know the answer to. That’s the question that haunts me.
3 1/2 stars. This book was pretty much perfect until the big thing that made it not so perfect anymore. However, I still think it's a clever, addicting, sensitive, honest and insightful story about depression, especially in the beginning. It follows the pattern of other popular books that I didn't enjoy so much - like The Fault in Our Stars and All the Bright Places - but the characters felt more real and less annoyingly pretentious. Plus, I loved the philosophy/physics angle.
My Heart and Other Black Holes starts very well. Having suffered with depression at times in my life and seen my mother deal with it too, I can completely relate to Aysel's descriptions of her sadness and inner struggle. Warga apparently wrote this book after the death of her close friend, in order to manage her own emotions and I think it's evident that she understands her subject. Like how the worst of it happens inside of you:
What people never understand is that depression isn’t about the outside; it’s about the inside. Something inside me is wrong. Sure, there are things in my life that make me feel alone, but nothing makes me feel more isolated and terrified than my own voice in my head.
And the wish to be invisible that sometimes borders on agoraphobia:
In these moments, it always feels like my skin is too thin, like everyone can see right inside me, can see my empty and dark insides.
When Aysel decides she needs a suicide partner to finally put an end to her misery, she meets up with Roman. Both of them are very different and very realistic. Aysel might be a really smart physics nerd, but her "voice" feels like that of a real person; a real teenager. And Roman is proof that not all depression sufferers are nerdy outsiders and emos. I also really enjoyed the conversation between them - both the serious discussions and the darkly comic aspects.
I wondered how the physics theme was going to play into the story and was skeptical about whether I'd like it. As it turns out, I did. I thought the weaving together of philosophy and physics was really interesting. The question about what happens to us when we die is an old one, but I found this take on it refreshing - if energy cannot disappear but can only be transferred, what happens to our energy when we die?
My issue with this book started during the last 25%. Warga had built up a strong novel with strong characters who, though bitter, were extremely likable. She'd brought depression, death, life, philosophy and science to the table in an intriguing blend... and then Aysel, um, recovers.
I don't know how else to explain it. (view spoiler)[Aysel finally admits she has feelings for Rowan and suddenly, overnight, it's like the depression has started to be washed away:
He’s no longer the person I want to die with; he’s the person I want to be alive with.
I find this to be many things - lazy, untruthful, even a damaging message. Depression is not something that can be cured overnight. As Aysel noted earlier, it's far more to do with the inner illness than the outer circumstances. I wouldn't go so far as to portray this as a "love cures all" book - personally, I didn't even think it was very romancey - but it completely misrepresents depression and suicidal thinking by suggesting that someone can flick a switch in their brain and decide to be happy and alive. (hide spoiler)]
I don't like that suggestion and I needed it to be noted. But I still believe this is a good book. Enjoyable, dark, but funny too. Clever and interesting. I just wish the last 25% had been stronger.
Does a dead body still have potential energy or does it get transferred into something else? Can potential energy just evaporate into nothingness? That’s the question I don’t know the answer to. That’s the question that haunts me.
3 1/2 stars. This book was pretty much perfect until the big thing that made it not so perfect anymore. However, I still think it's a clever, addicting, sensitive, honest and insightful story about depression, especially in the beginning. It follows the pattern of other popular books that I didn't enjoy so much - like The Fault in Our Stars and All the Bright Places - but the characters felt more real and less annoyingly pretentious. Plus, I loved the philosophy/physics angle.
My Heart and Other Black Holes starts very well. Having suffered with depression at times in my life and seen my mother deal with it too, I can completely relate to Aysel's descriptions of her sadness and inner struggle. Warga apparently wrote this book after the death of her close friend, in order to manage her own emotions and I think it's evident that she understands her subject. Like how the worst of it happens inside of you:
What people never understand is that depression isn’t about the outside; it’s about the inside. Something inside me is wrong. Sure, there are things in my life that make me feel alone, but nothing makes me feel more isolated and terrified than my own voice in my head.
And the wish to be invisible that sometimes borders on agoraphobia:
In these moments, it always feels like my skin is too thin, like everyone can see right inside me, can see my empty and dark insides.
When Aysel decides she needs a suicide partner to finally put an end to her misery, she meets up with Roman. Both of them are very different and very realistic. Aysel might be a really smart physics nerd, but her "voice" feels like that of a real person; a real teenager. And Roman is proof that not all depression sufferers are nerdy outsiders and emos. I also really enjoyed the conversation between them - both the serious discussions and the darkly comic aspects.
I wondered how the physics theme was going to play into the story and was skeptical about whether I'd like it. As it turns out, I did. I thought the weaving together of philosophy and physics was really interesting. The question about what happens to us when we die is an old one, but I found this take on it refreshing - if energy cannot disappear but can only be transferred, what happens to our energy when we die?
My issue with this book started during the last 25%. Warga had built up a strong novel with strong characters who, though bitter, were extremely likable. She'd brought depression, death, life, philosophy and science to the table in an intriguing blend... and then Aysel, um, recovers.
I don't know how else to explain it. (view spoiler)[Aysel finally admits she has feelings for Rowan and suddenly, overnight, it's like the depression has started to be washed away:
He’s no longer the person I want to die with; he’s the person I want to be alive with.
I find this to be many things - lazy, untruthful, even a damaging message. Depression is not something that can be cured overnight. As Aysel noted earlier, it's far more to do with the inner illness than the outer circumstances. I wouldn't go so far as to portray this as a "love cures all" book - personally, I didn't even think it was very romancey - but it completely misrepresents depression and suicidal thinking by suggesting that someone can flick a switch in their brain and decide to be happy and alive. (hide spoiler)]
I don't like that suggestion and I needed it to be noted. But I still believe this is a good book. Enjoyable, dark, but funny too. Clever and interesting. I just wish the last 25% had been stronger.
I've been reading A.S. King for over a decade now and some of her earlier works are among my favourite YA books. When King does it for me, her works aI've been reading A.S. King for over a decade now and some of her earlier works are among my favourite YA books. When King does it for me, her works are powerful, seared on my brain as Please Ignore Vera Dietz always will be... but when she doesn't? It's like the books are written in a language I don't speak.
At its core, it's a book about domestic violence told from the perspective of the victim's daughter. But wrapped around that core is a bizarre surrealist metaphor in which the mother lives in what is essentially a giant hamster tunnel.
At first I thought, okay, so it's a metaphor for her being trapped, but it just continued to get weirder and weirder and make less sense. I felt like lots of plot points were left unexplained-- indeed, I am half convinced that King deliberately tried to sow confusion throughout this story. The narrative was disjointed and jumped around all over the place, breaking into script and punk rock lyrics here and there.
Part of the story unfolds through a series of "home videos" that Jane uncovers, detailing the history of the abuse. I wasn't sure for a while if the "videos" were themselves a metaphor-- because the actual existence of such detailed footage seemed unlikely and surely the father would not have kept them if they did exist --but if they were, then that begs the question as to how Jane was able to tell the story at all. I guess writing surrealist fiction means you're not required to make sense.
I finished this book feeling like I didn't know what was a metaphor, what was a daydream and what was "real." I know books like that have an audience, but I'm just not part of it....more
Louse Finch has been on my radar ever since her debut-- The Eternal Return of Clara Hart --captivated me in January and propelled her future books to the top of my TBR. Iris Green, Unseen definitely hit different to Clara, but it was an equally powerful read.
The experience of reading this book was not a pleasant one. Iris experiences one of the worst forms of betrayal, and the damage it does to her self-esteem impacts virtually every area of her life. There was something very depressing and very relatable about being inside Iris's mind as she constantly doubts herself, worries her place in the world is as someone unremarkable, unworthy of love and happiness.
As Iris feels increasingly unimportant and invisible, the author adds a touch of magical realism by having her literally disappear.
At times, it was a very frustrating book. I longed for Iris to speak up for herself, scream and shout, tell Theo to go fuck himself, and stop finding her value through Baker, but Iris's growth was slow burn and I think perhaps this narrative will be important for teens like Iris who haven't yet found the strength to stand up for themselves.
You know, looking back, this book feels honest, and sometimes that meant going in directions I didn’t want it to. I didn't decide how I felt about the book until the very last minute… I could easily imagine myself writing a very different review because… well, I think it’s because Finch offers up a story that favours honesty over satisfaction. Much in this book is frustrating and unsatisfying, but it felt true.
It is ultimately a message about letting go of sadness and anger for yourself because others may never learn. How letting things go can be a powerful tool in moving on for yourself. It’s not fair, of course, and often the bad guys don’t get punished, but why sacrifice all of your future happiness on them?...more
Consequences. We have to live with ourselves no matter what. Crack after crack at this day, but I'm always me at the end. That's the tragedy.
For t
Consequences. We have to live with ourselves no matter what. Crack after crack at this day, but I'm always me at the end. That's the tragedy.
For the past few years, I've been gradually moving away from reading YA. I used to love it, but I've increasingly felt like the same old themes and characters are being recycled, and that very few offer something to engage me. I, myself, have been moving increasingly away from being a "young adult" so I put it down to that a bit, too.
However, it seems that a compelling, well-written and devastating YA novel can still drag me in and destroy me.
The Eternal Return of Clara Hart uses the Groundhog Day trope to look at themes of culpability, toxic "lad" culture (I guess that would be "bro" culture in the US?) and the possibility of growth and change. I think this latter theme is very important when talking about boys and lad culture, because too many people are happy to believe that certain negative traits are ingrained and immutable. Boys will be boys and all that. But boys, like girls, choose how to act. What to say and what not to say. What to see and what to look the other way from.
Spence finds himself in a loop. Each day he wakes in his car, Clara Hart hits his car, Anthony throws a party, Clara goes upstairs, Clara dies. Each day there are slight variations, but each day Clara ends up dead. What is Spence missing? How can he keep Clara alive?
It is fun and engaging to follow Spence as he pieces things together, ponders Nietzsche's eternal recurrence, tries his best to change things and fails. But it is also a very dark read. In addition to the poignant themes at the centre of the story, Spence is also struggling with grief after his mother's death. His relationship with his father is fraught, neither knowing quite how to connect with the other in their grief.
I know some won't like the end, but it felt exactly what it should be....more
Once there were five princesses. No, I mean five witches. Actually, they were goddesses. Anyway, whatever they were, they were friends.
This is the
Once there were five princesses. No, I mean five witches. Actually, they were goddesses. Anyway, whatever they were, they were friends.
This is the best YA contemporary I have read in years. A hard-hitting, compelling and awful story about a girl whose trauma causes a downward spiral that impacts her whole life, and the lives of those around her. Reminds me a bit of Louise O'Neill or Courtney Summers.
Ever Since is a book that hurts. It contains depictions of sexual assault, child sexual abuse, domestic violence, substance abuse and suicidal ideation... so it was always going to be a harrowing read, but what really makes the book stand out is Virginia's painfully honest voice. It is not always easy being inside her head, but the need to know she will be okay makes it impossible to look away from.
Bruzas adds another dose of power to the tale by interspersing it with stories of women from mythology-- Medea, Fatima, Aife, Sita --each a victim of abuse in one way or another, calling attention to the horrific timelessness and universality of Virginia's story.
It is so painful to watch Virginia spiral, turn to sex as a coping strategy, destroy friendships and rely on alcohol to get through the day. I, too, felt consumed by helplessness as her already small support network slipped away. I wanted her to speak up, get help, yet understood why she didn't. It is only when Virginia comes to suspect an eleven year old girl is being groomed for abuse that she starts to feel like maybe, finally, enough is enough.
Can't believe I never read this before! Super fun and enjoyable, delivered in short diary entries which made me fly through it.Can't believe I never read this before! Super fun and enjoyable, delivered in short diary entries which made me fly through it....more
Ness is an author whose books sometimes work for me and sometimes don't, but they are usually different and inteI wanted and expected more from this.
Ness is an author whose books sometimes work for me and sometimes don't, but they are usually different and interesting. He tries new styles and concepts, doesn't cater to trends, and I like that. But I didn't really understand the point of this book and I think what Ness may have intended to be an empowering message about virginity only serves to reinforce this ridiculous (see also: subjective, misogynistic and fictitious) institution.
It's a quick read at slightly over 100 pages, some of which contain illustrations. Unfortunately, this probably contributed to why I found it lacking. None of the characters are developed, seeming to be characterized by stereotypes-- overtly camp Jack and toxically masculine and homophobic Charlie --when I felt like they each had more to offer the narrative. The illustrations seemed pointless and unnecessary.
The blurb says this book "explores teen sexuality" which is odd because I think it barely grazes the surface. Other books have more effectively explored being a closeted gay teen, in my opinion. Deposing Nathan is a great one. Even Ness's own Release does a better job.
I'm also going to take this opportunity to once again push a song I love about being a closeted gay teen-- Either --it gives me chills and it's not nearly appreciated enough....more
I tried, for old times' sake, because it's Marie Lu, but I have definitely outgrown stories like this. I'm too old, grumDNF - 20%
Yeah, I can't do it.
I tried, for old times' sake, because it's Marie Lu, but I have definitely outgrown stories like this. I'm too old, grumpy and sleep-deprived to suspend disbelief for teen secret agents whose beauty we need to be constantly reminded of. The last straw was:
Everything about him—dark eyes and thick lashes, the rich black hair that looked effortlessly perfect, the pillow-soft lips, the tattoos that decorated his forearms down to his left hand, the grace in his stride, the lines of his figure—drew the eye.
Come to think of it... I'm pretty sure I disliked descriptions like that at sixteen too. Not to worry. There's plenty of folks who'll love this....more
Loading...
