Review – The Poet X

“And I think about all the things we could be

if we were never told our bodies were not built for them.”

elizabeth acevedo, the poet x

4.5 stars

Wow. You know those books that hit you squarely in the chest? This is one of them. I did not expect to enjoy this, at all. But Elizabeth Acevedo is truly a master of slam poetry and has me sold. I’ll read anything she writes.

The Poet X is such a unique book, mostly because of how it’s written. It follows the story of Xiomara Batista, a girl who only wants to free her voice in a world that tells her to stay quiet. It’s silently but powerfully moving to hear it through poetry, the only outlet she has against the torment she receives from her mother’s zealous faith, the sexual harassment she suffers at the hands of boys and men who consider her body a free-zone, and the fear and self-doubt she grapples with in her daily life. Xiomara’s story emphasizes the injustices girls and women so often face, issues that are so easily discredited. Her struggle to find her courage as her poetry evolves becomes a beautiful tale of self-realisation that pushes critical issues to the forefront, one that will hit close to home for many a reader in many different ways.

“I only know that learning to believe in the power of my own words has been the most freeing experience of my life. It has brought me the most light. And isn’t that what a poem is? A lantern glowing in the dark.”

elizabeth acevedo, the poet x

This story truly pulled on my heartstrings. I have not grown up in such an intolerant, radical household as Xiomara herself, and have never experienced such extreme abuse. However, it did spell out some things in my own life, as I’ve seen both myself, and many other women, be silenced in our day-to-day lives out of fear. Fear of ridicule, humiliation, disapproval. Fear of the phrase “women talk too much” or “you’re too loud and obnoxious”. My way of releasing this kind of frustration has always been stories: reading them, writing them, watching them. Like Xiomara, creation has always been my outlet. As it is for many others. Xiomara’s story helped to shed light and courage on my own.

The Poet X is an easy read, but effective. Short, but packing a punch. It gets an important message across to ordinary girls who feel they are not being heard. And covers many issues we face that the public so easily discredit. Justice must be served. We need to speak up more. And we also need to listen. This is the message Elizabeth Acevedo conveys so well.

My only complaint is that the ending came too quickly. The main issue was so easily resolved that it painted an unrealistic and fanciful picture. Though instilling hope, it seems to trivialise and reduce the struggle Xiomara faced in the first place. Many girls will experience these kind of hardships. And, in real life, these probably won’t be so solved.

Nonetheless, this was a solid read. Inspiring. Resounding. Powerful. A new favourite in my eyes.

Review – The Song of Achilles

“We were like gods at the dawning of the world, & our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but the other.”

– madeline miller, the song of achilles

4.5 stars

Somebody once said that the Iliad is not a story about the Trojan War. Though the events take place during the war, the Iliad is about Achilles and his pride. It reflects the strengths and weaknesses of men, whether god-born or entirely human.

Madeline Miller perfectly reflects this in The Song of Achilles, and even takes it further. As a lover of the Greek myths, this story drew my interest immediately. Telling it from the perspective of Patroclus, someone who seemingly only serves as a plot device in Homer’s Iliad to inspire Achilles into action to fulfil his fate, was the perfect narrative decision.

Through his eyes, we see how it plays out: his early meeting of Achilles, the fated great hero; the war, and the effect of the gods pulling their strings for entertainment at the expense of mortal suffering and anguish. The story itself reads like a Greek myth. From the beginning, Miller conveys the inevitability of the tragedy so well. It is constantly present, poignant… My heart clenched at every turn.

The love and tenderness between Achilles and Patroclus, which builds in the first quarter of the book, was awfully endearing. It was a bit too love-sick for me, too much pining without enough solid blocks to build the bond of their love and friendship – but I suppose it did the job. My only real complaint was that the middle of the book was a bit boring. The war became repetitive, fighting descriptors mixed in with adoration of Achilles’ endless grace, but left the story feeling a bit stale. It didn’t convey the ugliness of the war as well as it could have. For that opinion, I must thank The Poppy War, which shows this futile brutality perfectly whilst managing to keep you on the edge of your seat. Nonetheless, the book was so exquisitely written, the last quarter of the book so heart-wrenching and provocative, that these small criticisms pale in comparison to the glory that is this novel.

Though the Iliad is about Achilles, the one who stole the show was Patroclus. I can’t explain how much I love him. The Iliad is a story about love and war, and Patroclus is not made for war, but for love. He’s ill-suited to fighting, due to moral principles and his acceptance that he will never fight like Achilles, but he accurately portrays its horrors through his own eyes, refusing to give in to the mythical glory of the battles and the gods that meddle in them. And though he is not a warrior in the Trojan War, I still feel he’s one of the most important characters there.

Watching him fulfil his ultimate fate left me in tears… Throughout the entire story, we hear about the god-born Achilles, the fated prophecies, and the strength of the gods. It is all about their divine glory, how mortals should bow before their power, before Achilles.

Patroclus’ story proves that what mattered, in the end, was his humanity. It was his humanity and his choices that made him a hero, whereas Achilles is merely a hero by divine birth. What I believe Miller does so well is to remind us to appreciate the ordinary, to teach us that human love, kindness and compassion are much braver traits than unearned talents and celestial entitlement.

Here, being human is much more valuable than being a god.

Honestly, I think this is a fantastic book. Even though I knew how this story inevitably ended, I still wept like a baby by the final pages. Another tear-stained book to add to my favourites shelf!

“In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.”

― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

Review – The House in the Cerulean Sea

He thought of the life he had. How he could have ever thought it’d be enough.

His thoughts were all cerulean.

– T. J. Klune, the house in the cerulean sea

4.5 stars

This is the most wholesome Nanny McPhee and Harry Potter crossover and found-family trope that I never thought I needed.

This must be the sweetest feel-good story of 2020. Warm, tug-at-your-heart-strings kind of good. The imaginative, magical world T. J. Klune has created is full of wonder in the simplest of ways. There is no death-defying mission nor prophesied quest. Instead, it is based in a world akin to our own, infused with magical creatures, and somehow it manages to strongly resonate with the reader by telling the story of Linus Baker, a caseworker whose dreary, grey city life is spent evaluating the safety of orphanages full of magical children.

When he’s sent on a one-month investigation to a remote island in the cerulean sea full of classified subjects and their whimsical carer, his entire existence is up-ended. It tells a story of what our lives could be should we choose to go where our hearts take us. Of the possibilities of love, friendship, and family that live around every corner. Despite the plot being overly standard and predictable at times, it didn’t fail at being awfully endearing.

Sometimes, we don’t need the stories of grand Chosen Ones in fantasy. Sometimes something that is ever so basic can carry the most powerful message. I’d say this book is one of them.

A home isn’t always the house we live in. It’s also the people we choose to surround ourselves with. You may not live on the island, but you can’t tell me it’s not your home. Your bubble, Mr. Baker. It’s been popped. Why would you allow it to grow around you again?

– T. J. KLUNE, THE HOUSE IN THE CERULEAN SEA

Review – Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine

“If someone asks you how you are, you are meant to say FINE. You are not meant to say that you cried yourself to sleep last night because you hadn’t spoken to another person for two consecutive days. FINE is what you say.”

Gail honeyman, eleanor oliphant is completely fine

5 stars

Every once in a while, you get a book that comes along and punches you in the gut. This is one of those moments. It serves as a reminder. A reminder that we do not see the extent that others are drowning in their suffering, and yet kindness can really perform miracles. It is, within itself, a miracle.

A spectacular debut that evokes the power of sympathy and compassion when one needs it most, Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine is a heartfelt story that will haunt you well past the moment you finish the last page.

Before I started this book, I expected a light comedy threaded with touching moments of self-realisation and discovery. What I got was so much more. The story follows Eleanor Oliphant – of course – who has a neat and tidy order to her life. Monday to Friday she goes to work, she isolates herself with her computer and processes bills and VAT, and eats her meal deal lunch whilst filling out the daily crossword. In the evenings, she spends her time sitting at home, reading a range of particular books and listening to the occasional programme. The weekends are specifically reserved for her home with two bottles of vodka. That is the extent of her (non-existent) social activities.

Eleanor started out as an irritating character. Within the first fifty or so pages, I found myself averse to her uneasy personality as I followed her narration of the story. She can be rude, obstinate, single-minded and incredibly inconsiderate. That is, until providence leads her to help out her unkempt work colleague Raymond when an elderly man collapses to the ground outside their office. What follows from there is a journey of rediscovery and enlightenment: the prior for Eleanor, the latter for the reader.

Eleanor learns to delve beyond the confines of her own mind into the big, wide world by ending up at the receiving end of odd moments of patience and hospitality. With help from Raymond and the elderly Sammy, our protagonist braves the outside and dives tiptoes into relationships with others, overcoming the trials that have plagued her for a lifetime. Through her newfound experiences with the people around her, we readers get to know, and understand, the deepest corners of Eleanor’s heart and soul. We are stripped of our initial prejudices as we come to understand what the people around Eleanor have also failed to see for so long.

“In the end, what matters is this: I survived.”

gail honeyman, eleanor oliphant is completely fine

Though I believe it is best to go into this book with little to no prior knowledge of the plot, I will say this: the book truly picks up and subverts the reader’s initial expectations and serves us an important life message. You never know the extent of someone’s problems and past, and because of that, you must always be kind.

The plot truly was unpredictable at every turn. Though I have seen similar plot twists before, Gail Honeyman’s storytelling weaves through the pages in subtle reveals, unveiling intense, heart-rending truths. What you get is a myriad of emotions as you become a part of Eleanor’s journey.

In essence, this book does not sugar-coat reality. But it does provide hope. A story can offer no greater message. Truly, this was a real pleasure to read. And yet another opportunity to add a book to my favourites list. Thank you, Eleanor Oliphant.

Review – The Poppy War

4.5 stars

“War doesn’t determine who’s right. War determines who remains.”

– R. f. kuang, the poppy war

This book has wedged itself into my soul in the most tender and forceful way. Though this particular genre is not one I have read before, Kuang’s debut novel blew me away. The brutal honesty within the detail of this story drove through my soul with a raw intensity that left me reeling for days. I can’t express what a masterpiece this is. Not in any words I can convey. But I’ll try my best.

The Poppy War follows the story of Rin, one of the many poverty-stricken children in the Nikara Empire. But after passing the Keju, a gruelling test designed to select the most talented and intelligent of students, she is sent to Sinegard, the elite military academy in the country where she encounters discrimination and a deep power within her. But as a member of a nation secretly on the brink of another war, becoming a soldier could shatter Rin’s own fate. Not to mention her very soul.

The plot was masterfully crafted. Complex and well thought out. Just when you think there can’t possibly be anything else to add, Kuang manages to enhance between the layers. It did take some effort to follow at times, due to the tremendous amount of detail, but it was worth it in every measure. The build up of the plot was beyond the scope of imagination. Every step forward in this story requires tremendous sacrifice. Every victory carries with it catastrophic defeat. It is bittersweet. And it’s ugly. Fascinatingly so.

Nothing is black and white. The entire story is plagued with so many shades of grey that one cannot distinguish where one ends and the other begins. The morality and actions of these characters are never sources of good and evil, but rather a fight for survival, for final victory. Clashes between allies serve only the purpose of winning a war. It’s a stressful affair.

R. F. Kuang takes every expectation and every single thing you think you know about this story or these characters and tears it apart, only to stitch it back together again, only to rip it apart once more. Not to mention she then lights the pieces on fire. The twists and turns, and ups and downs, take you in such an ingenuous spiral that you almost feel this story isn’t advancing at all, but rather it is dragging you backward by the hair in dizzying circles. Though, I suppose, this mirrors the true and dreadful nature of war. And it was marvellously portrayed. It is not victory, then defeat, then victory; but simultaneously both and neither at once. This is a war story, and it relays the ugly brutality and unpredictability of it to the core. There is no honour and glory here.

“Children ceased to be children when you put a sword in their hands. When you taught them to fight a war, then you armed them and put them on the front lines, they were not children anymore. They were soldiers.”

– R. F. KUANG, THE POPPY WAR

The writing was fantastic. Kuang takes her time building up the story through the intricacies of wording, leading us to a deafening crescendo when the action explodes on the page. The first two hundred pages were far more mild. I didn’t realise an author could make an onslaught of pages about studying so morbidly fascinating, but there you go. Kudos to you, R. F. Kuang. That was something else. My prejudiced mind tricked me into believing I’d find reading about classes at this elite military school boring, but boy oh boy, was I wrong.

Nonetheless, nothing could have braced me for the remaining three hundred pages of the book. From the start, I knew this book was about war. I knew it would be dark, and horrid, and painful. But the ugliness that Kuang paints across the pages left me reeling. I must admit, it was painful. It physically hurt to read this. My chest felt constrained throughout the last half of this book, which I read in one sitting.

I am almost unsure as to reading the Dragon Republic as this book still sits so heavily on my heart. Nonetheless, that feeling won’t stop me for much longer, I’m sure. The Poppy War is too good to discontinue. For anyone thinking of reading this book, prepare yourself. This story will make you uncomfortable. This story will make you feel a whirlwind of raw emotions. And it’s worth every damn one of them.

Review – One Last Stop

“But, you know, that feeling? When you wake up in the morning and you have somebody to think about? Somewhere for hope to go? It’s good. Even when it’s bad, it’s good.” I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.”

– Casey McQuiston, One Last Stop

Casey McQuiston truly has a gift for capturing the very heart and soul of the new generation. She did it once with Red, White & Royal Blue, and she’s done it again with this gem right here. One Last Stop is an endearing and hilarious story of love, friendship, and youth, one that warmly reaches out to new adult and LGBTQ+ readers to show them that they are seen, and that they are understood.

One Last Stop follows the story of August, an unusual loner who has recently moved to New York as a student and ends up moving into an apartment with a group of quirky roommates. Adjusting to life in the big city is hard, but the highlight of her day becomes her daily commute on the Q train where she always happens to meet a mysterious girl called Jane. Jane is fun, free-spirited, and lively, but every time they coincidence, something isn’t quite right. Though she is fascinated by this strange subway girl, August has for too long grown accustomed to being alone due to her unconventional upbringing. Only love and true friendship could possibly be powerful enough to shake the foundations of her tedious life, but nothing worthwhile ever came easy.

I greatly enjoyed this book, especially McQuiston’s bold writing (as always). Her comical, sassy quips perfectly encapsulate modern humour and both the personalities and attitudes of millennials and Gen-Z, managing to create relatable and offbeat characters who break away from the heteronormativity some books often pigeonhole their characters into. The identities and the relationships between these characters feel like a breath of fresh air, the kind that shakes you from your stupor and shows you that everyone is different and worthy of having their story told.

That being said, it took a while for the story to get going. Despite the unique characters and their entertaining banter, various sections of the plot felt slow, uneventful, and tedious. The momentum felt uneven as we catapulted between the different elements of the story. I enjoyed watching the developing friendships between August and her roommates, and her romance with Jane, but despite uncovering the mystery in the last third of the book, I wasn’t invested enough in the plot to truly appreciate the remainder of the story. Once the friendships and relationships had been fully formed and cemented, the story struggled to hold my attention at the very end.

Nonetheless, this was an enjoyable novel and one I recommend for the refreshing take on the characters alone. The heart-warming relationships between them truly spoke volumes to the rewards of becoming emotionally vulnerable with others, as anyone can find their tribe if they only summon the courage to open their hearts.

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started