My Musings.

A blog on books, culture and storytelling. 

[tompatel95]

Hex by Thomas Heuvelt Review

So. Hex. What did I think? It is a good book – well written and engrossing when you get into it. It presents a modern ghost story; how technology and the supernatural interact and how, in the end, all our accomplishments matter little in the face of true ghoulish malevolence.

Whoever is born here, is doomed to stay 'til death. Whoever settles, never leaves. Welcome to Black Spring, the seemingly picturesque Hudson Valley town haunted by the Black Rock Witch, a 17th century woman whose eyes and mouth are sewn shut. Muzzled, she walks the streets and enters your homes at will. She stands next to your bed for nights on end. Everybody knows that her eyes may never be opened. The elders of Black Spring have virtually quarantined the town by using high-tech surveillance to prevent their curse from spreading. Frustrated with being kept in lockdown, the town's teenagers decide to break their strict regulations and go viral with the haunting, but in so doing send the town spiralling into the dark, medieval practices of the past.

Firstly, Heuvelt successfully covers how a ghost remains active in the 21stcentury. The government help keep her presence a secret, providing funds and security to the town which she haunts. The inclusion of the Hex app is inspired – all of these small details feel realistic and how a community would react to a supernatural presence in our technical age.

The characters do grow on you over time. To begin with, I cared little; it’s not one of those stories which grips you immediately. Sometimes, I found the vast array f characters overwhelming and it was difficult to form attachments with them. I feel not all of them required POV chapters – some should have been incorporated into others.

Another issue is the witch herself. She becomes a mundane aspect of the residents. I understand that this is the point – no one sees her revenge coming. However, this does sap a lot of her mystique away. Secondly, it becomes unclear whether she is actively cursing the town, or whether it is the primal fear of its citizens which leads to their undoing. I like the concept that its both, but it needs to be more obvious.

The story doesn’t really get going until Tyler’s suicide – a shame because he was my favourite character! Afterwards, the prose is gripping and traumatising. There’s no hope or salvation on the horizon, but Heuwelt is skilled enough to make it work. The small town mindedness of America works wonders.

To conclude, this book wasn’t what I expected it to be, but it is honestly a rewarding read.

[tompatel95]

The Good House review

The Good Houseby Tananarive Due is a difficult book to get your head around. Equally parts frustrating and brilliant, I’m still decidedly undecided about the whole thing. Let’s get into it, shall we?

The home that belonged to Angela Toussaint's late grandmother is so beloved that townspeople in Sacajawea, Washington, call it the Good House. But that all changes one summer when an unexpected tragedy takes place behind its closed doors...and the Toussaint's family history -- and future -- is dramatically transformed.

Angela has not returned to the Good House since her son, Corey, died there two years ago. But now, Angela is finally ready to return to her hometown and go beyond the grave to unearth the truth about Corey's death. Could it be related to a terrifying entity Angela's grandmother battled seven decades ago? And what about the other senseless calamities that Sacajawea has seen in recent years? Has Angela's grandmother, an African American woman reputed to have "powers," put a curse on the entire community? A thrilling exploration of secrets, lies, and divine inspiration, "The Good House" will haunt readers long after its chilling conclusion.

Firstly, the protagonist, Angela, is a complicated lead. I didn’t really find her that engaging, mainly because she’s in her forties with a failed marriage and a son. However, this shouldn’t have been the obstacle it was – it was difficult to get a feel on her. So much of the book was her dealing with her grief, it was difficult to relate.

The voodoo elements were fascinating – I wish this supernatural element came in far sooner. A lot of time was wasted at the beginning setting the scene. In fact, the story doesn’t really get going until at least halfway through; I was definitely tempted not to finish at times.

The other characters were alright; I especially liked Naomi and Corey. Tariq came across as the Angry Black Man stereotype, Myles was the Perfect Guy. Indeed, I have no real sense of who Myles is without Angela. The others were completely forgettable.

The villain of the piece, the baka, was curiously undeveloped. I understand it was some kind of demon, yet its motivations were obscure and it felt curiously underpowered, even though it kills/harms pretty much all the characters. It simply wasn’t frightening enough.

All that said, once I got into the story, I couldn’t put it down. It is overly long, and entire chapters should be cut out to be honest. However, it is a rollicking read once you get into it. Read it, but bear with.

[tompatel95]

A Thousand Ships by Natalie Haynes Review

There appears to be a renewed interest in Greek myths. Whether it’s due to the interest in fantasy after Game of Thrones, or the success of Wonder Woman, this focus is very welcome. Earlier this year, Natalie Haynes released A Thousand Ships, a retelling of Homer’s epics, comprised entirely of female voices.

I’ll be honest, I was somewhat . . . tenuous about reading. I think a feminist retelling of these ancient masculine works is long overdue, but I thought that the book would be a rather literary, dry read – incredibly informative and necessary, but not necessary an absorbing read. Boy, was I wrong!

 In A Thousand Ships, broadcaster and classicist Natalie Haynes retells the story of the Trojan War from an all-female perspective.

This was never the story of one woman, or two. It was the story of all of them…

In the middle of the night, Creusa wakes to find her beloved Troy engulfed in flames. Ten seemingly endless years of brutal conflict between the Greeks and the Trojans are over, and the Greeks are victorious. Over the next few hours, the only life she has ever known will turn to ash . . .

The devastating consequences of the fall of Troy stretch from Mount Olympus to Mount Ida, from the citadel of Troy to the distant Greek islands, and across oceans and sky in between. These are the stories of the women embroiled in that legendary war and its terrible aftermath, as well as the feud and the fatal decisions that started it all…

Powerfully told from an all-female perspective, A Thousand Ships gives voices to the women, girls and goddesses who, for so long, have been silent.

 Haynes flits between myriad narrative voices with such ease, it never feels arduous or forced. She looks at all the women involved by the Trojan War, completely dismantling the notion that it was a completely masculine affair. Plus, she provides a much-needed spotlight on the minor female characters, ones who were mere footnotes in the original. She infuses them with agency, emotions, power and powerlessness and it is beautiful. Her description of Aphrodite is one of the most exquisite pieces of prose I have ever read – it can read powerful, highlighting the deity’s power, or a mocking satire on patriarchal beauty standards, or both!

One of the highlights has to be Penelope’s letters to Odysseus, growing more and more irritated with her absent spouse. I laughed reading them and thought that a sitcom based on Penelope’s growing frustration would be hilarious.

What’s even more impressive is the non-chronological order of the chapters. Each chapter focuses on the voice of a specific woman or women, providing a scattershot of the war. And yet, the book never comes across as messy or incoherent; Haynes retains a vice-like grip on the narrative.

Any issues? Not particularly. The only thing is, although I enjoyed the novel, it didn’t grip me in the way others had – I felt no compulsive need to continue reading, no desperation to find out what happens. That may be due to the fact that I studied the Classics, so I know the fates of the majority of the characters and the tale is incredibly familiar to me.

However, I would definitely recommend the book to anyone, especially those with a limited background in the Classics and the world of Greek myth. It makes a terrific introduction.

[tompatel95]

The Queen of Blood by Sarah Beth Durst Review

The Queen of Blood is not your typical YA fantasy. Durst manages to conform to the genre’s conventions whilst subverting them, which is no mean feat. I read the book whilst on holiday – it was a fun, enjoyable read.

An idealistic young student and a banished warrior become allies in a battle to save their realm in this first book of a mesmerising epic fantasy series, filled with political intrigue, violent magic, malevolent spirits, and thrilling adventure

Everything has a spirit: the willow tree with leaves that kiss the pond, the stream that feeds the river, the wind that exhales fresh snow . . .

But the spirits that reside within this land want to rid it of all humans. One woman stands between these malevolent spirits and the end of humankind: the queen. She alone has the magical power to prevent the spirits from destroying every man, woman, and child. But queens are still just human, and no matter how strong or good, the threat of danger always looms.

With the position so precarious, young women are chosen to train as heirs. Daleina, a seemingly quiet academy student, is under no illusions as to her claim to the throne, but simply wants to right the wrongs that have befallen the land. Ven, a disgraced champion, has spent his exile secretly fighting against the growing number of spirit attacks. Joining forces, these daring partners embark on a treacherous quest to find the source of the spirits’ restlessness—a journey that will test their courage and trust and force them to stand against both enemies and friends to save their land . . . before it’s bathed in blood.

One of the most surprising aspects of the novel is its protagonist, Daleina. Unlike many of her literary counterparts, Daleina is not powerful. She struggles to control the spirits and only succeeds through sheer hard work and will power. Here’s the thing; I love powerful women, from Galadriel to Daenerys. So upon realising Daleina’s limitations, I was sceptical on whether I would enjoy her character.

However, I was surprised by how much I loved her struggles. She has a dream which everyone tells her is impossible – she’s simply not strong enough. The worst thing is, Daleina knows they’re right. I related to this strongly because I myself love singing but lack the perfect pitch for it to be anything else but a hobby. I felt seen through Daleina’s character.

Another lovely titbit of her character is how supportive she is. At the Academy, there is no female rivalry, none of the usual bitchiness that usually accompanies these types of stories. Even though her fellow students are all vying for the queenship, they all support and lift each other up, a refreshing and welcome development.

The world-building is expertly done too. The settlements all live in giant trees, connected via walkways and zip lines. So, although the technology is your typical medieval trope, everything feels unique and new.

Are there any downsides? Well . . . yes. The political intrigue could do with some polishing – sometimes schemes are too easily found out and rectified. And, although Daleina’s limitations are a welcome innovation, Durst does go on about it a bit too much. Also, the reason behind the spirits’ hatred of humanity needs fleshing out and the possibility of being resolved – at the moment it feels paper-thin.

To conclude, read the book!

[tompatel95]

The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock by Imogen Hermes Gowar Review.

Where to begin with The Mermaid and Mrs Handcock? First things first, I loved it. However, I do think you have to be someone who enjoys the pace of period piece dramas anyway, as the novel will appear slow otherwise. Luckily, I love myself a good period piece, so I was in 7th heaven!

This voyage is special. It will change everything… One September evening in 1785, the merchant Jonah Hancock hears urgent knocking on his front door. One of his captains is waiting eagerly on the step. He has sold Jonah’s ship for what appears to be a mermaid. As gossip spreads through the docks, coffee shops, parlours and brothels, everyone wants to see Mr Hancock’s marvel. Its arrival spins him out of his ordinary existence and through the doors of high society. At an opulent party, he makes the acquaintance of Angelica Neal, the most desirable woman he has ever laid eyes on… and a courtesan of great accomplishment. This chance meeting will steer both their lives onto a dangerous new course, a journey on which they will learn that priceless things come at the greatest cost… What will be the cost of their ambitions? And will they be able to escape the destructive power mermaids are said to possess? In this spell-binding story of curiosity and obsession, Imogen Hermes Gowar has created an unforgettable jewel of a novel, filled to the brim with intelligence, heart and wit.

The Georgian setting was tangible without overpowering the narrative. Sometimes, with this genre, I find that author spends too much time creating a sense of place, resulting in plot and characterisation appearing paper-thin. Luckily, that’s not the case here. Everything, from the muddy streets, the swish of dresses and clinks of china evoked the historical setting. And yet, the characters of Suki, Jonah and Angelica felt modern and relatable – I truly cared about their fates and had to resist skipping ahead to make sure they ended up okay.

Additionally, the host of supporting characters added to the narrative and hinted at impressive and deep stories of their own; we only didn’t know them because that wasn’t the tale we were being told. As a result, they felt as fully fleshed as the protagonists; a rare feat. Furthermore, I felt that Gowar had complete and utter control over the writing – her use of language was sublime.

Now, are there any short-comings? I think that it’s not exactly accessible for people who aren’t period piece fans; I loved it but I do believe that a lot of people would find it dull, boring and slow. Furthermore, whilst the historical detail was precise, more care needed to put into the racism of the times. Anti-Semitism was rife during Georgian London, but what’s the point of revealing characters’ bigotry unless it serves a greater purpose? For instance, many characters within The Merchant of Venice are anti-Semitic, yet Shakespeare uses their prejudice to motivate Shylock and disrupt the sense of protagonists and antagonists.

Anti-Semitism exists within Gowar’s work, yet there’s no overall point to it, which results in an uncomfortable read at times. I disagree that Gowar should pretend that anti-Semitism didn’t exist, but there are better, more respectful ways to depict it. In Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman, the racism is touched on in a brief scene which is all it needs. It acknowledges the bigotry of the past and gives a voice to victims without focusing exclusively on their suffering.

Gowar’s book treats racism a similar way to anti-Semitism; there are better ways to highlight the plight of people of colour. Polly is a fascinating character, yet the sole major character of colour has her storyline left unresolved which isn’t a pleasant experience.

To conclude, I recommend the book, if you happen to enjoy period dramas. Otherwise, you may find it not to your tastes.  

[tompatel95]

Dark Blade: Whispers of the Gods by Steve Feasey review

Disappointing. That’s how I’d describe Dark Blade by Steve Feasey. Maybe it was the marketing, but before reading this book, I was anticipating a fantasy epic akin to A Song of Ice and Fire. Within the first few pages, I realised my mistake – yes it was a fantasy epic, but for children. Alright, I thought, let’s give this a go anyway. There are plenty examples of children’s literature I still enjoy, namely Harry Potter and Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. But my, how wrong I was.

Here’s the synopsis for those who need a little context - A sweeping epic fantasy perfect for fans of the Summoner trilogy by Taran Matharu and Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo.

WHEN GODS FAIL, WHO WILL KEEP THE DARKNESS OUT?

Lann knows nothing of his mysterious past, but by his fifteenth birthday he will come face to face with destiny. For Lann must wield the Dreadblade, an ancient sword forged to defeat terrible monsters.

Across the mountains a King has been murdered. His daughter, Astrid, is a warrior with no desire to bear the crown. Only she can uncover her father's killer before her brother is framed for the crime.

Evil is stirring. Lann and Astrid are the kingdom's last defence. Together, they must face the greatest darkness their world has ever known.

Is it just me, or does this read as a huge epic? Yet, the language was so simplistic – characters rarely had any descriptions. For well over half of the book, I had no idea what the protagonists even looked like. The landscape, emotions, plot; everything was so briefly described it felt shallow and a struggle to be absorbed by the story.

That being said, the world created is intriguing. It read as a dark, Norse-inspired universe which is what’s so disappointing. I’m interested in the mythology and world-building but the story-telling prowess just isn’t there.

Here’s the thing; I’d understand if the book’s content was appropriate for children, akin to Roald Dahl. However, it’s not. There’s murder, massacres, mothers killing their children, political intrigue and assassinations. It’s like Feasey is attempting to write Game of Thrones for kids, which obviously doesn’t work. Whose the target audience for this? Plot-wise it’s YA or even adult, yet the writing’s more basic than 9-12 fiction.

There’s nothing more really to say. The characters were fantastical archetypes, the magic undeveloped, plot obstacles easily resolved. If Netflix created a series based on the book, I’d probably check it out, but I won’t be reading the next book.

[tompatel95]

The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert Review.

I appear to reading a lot on faeries at the moment. Probably it’s due to gorging myself on the works of Holly Black – I’ve finished reading her A Modern Tale of Faerie trilogy, so all her stories are buzzing around in my head like flies. That being said, there are significant parallels between her trilogy and The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert. Both protagonists are young, spunky women whose most significant relationship is with their mothers – both are used to a life on the road, travelling from place to place. Both have a more sisterly than maternal bond with their mothers and both lean towards the supernatural.

At the beginning of The Hazel Wood, I was struck by its correspondences with other works. As already mentioned, there’s A Modern Tale of Faerie. However, it also reminded me of The Thirteenth Tale and Inkheart. That isn’t to say that the book is derivative; it just appears to draw obvious inspiration from different sources.

Here is the synopsis: Seventeen-year-old Alice and her mother have spent most of Alice’s life on the road, always a step ahead of the uncanny bad luck biting at their heels. But when Alice’s grandmother, the reclusive author of a cult-classic book of pitch-dark fairy tales, dies alone on her estate, the Hazel Wood, Alice learns how bad her luck can really get: her mother is stolen away―by a figure who claims to come from the Hinterland, the cruel supernatural world where her grandmother's stories are set. Alice's only lead is the message her mother left behind: “Stay away from the Hazel Wood.”

Alice has long steered clear of her grandmother’s cultish fans. But now she has no choice but to ally with classmate Ellery Finch, a Hinterland superfan who may have his own reasons for wanting to help her. To retrieve her mother, Alice must venture first to the Hazel Wood, then into the world where her grandmother's tales began―and where she might find out how her own story went so wrong.

A lot of reviews haven’t responded well to Alice as a protagonist. They say she comes across as bratty and plain rude. To be honest, she does but I didn’t find her anger particularly grating, although it was frustrating at times. Although she wasn’t particularly likeable, I found Alice to be engaging and I did care about what happened to her, which is the most important thing regarding a protagonist.

The deuteragonist, Ellery Finch, worked well too. He was a necessary balance to Alice’s snark, helping to make her outbursts tolerable. To be honest, I feel that the narrative would have worked better switching between Alice’s and Finch’s POV, rather than focusing solely on Alice. It would’ve given us a respite from Alice and allowed us to understand how she’s perceived by others. Indeed, there were aspects of Finch which I didn’t understand – why does he dislike his father, why does he dislike his family’s wealth? His own POV was sorely needed.

So how was Hinterland, the fantastical kingdom of the book. Confusing, to say the least. The main issue I had was that it arrived too late in the novel. Ironically, Alice describes memories and events from her life as seeming flat, yet Hinterland felt insubstantial. It felt 2D, and underwhelming. For all its supposed magic, scenes read curiously bland. The build-up to Hinterland worked, but the book almost needed to be longer so we could spend longer there to understand its various rules and whatnot. The whole idea of refugees, story-spinners and Storys felt rushed – I guess part of the idea was that we only really learn about two stories from Hinterland, so it just appears a mess.

To conclude, I did enjoy The Hazel Wood and will be reading the sequel in 2020. There was a lot of authorial intrusion and conveniences within the story, but hopefully these issues will be ironed out in the sequel. Either way, it was an enjoyable read.

[tompatel95]

Family Horror

I do love a good horror movie. My brother’s too scared to watch them with me (he’s 17), but I love them. There’s just something so dark and thrilling about the growing apprehension; the breath of relief once it’s finished and you remember it’s not actually real. My favourite type of horror has to be hauntings – films with ghosts or demonic possessions. Despite its bleh plot, The Nun is one of my favourites; its dark gothic atmosphere is intoxicating.

Within the hauntings genre, I’ve discovered another subcategory. I call them family horrors, although there’s nothing family-friendly about them. These movies focus on the torment of a family unit – think Hereditary, The Others or The Witch (another favourite of mine). Recently, I watched two of them; Sinister and Insidious. I couldn’t help compare them; one got the family dynamic right whilst the other fell short.

Let’s start with Sinister. The marketing and trailers around the film appeared wonderfully creepy, so I was looking forward to it. However, it was rather anticlimactic. That’s not to say it’s bad, it just failed in its execution.

The official synopsis is “washed-up true-crime writer Ellison Oswalt finds a box of super 8 home movies that suggest the murder he is currently researching is the work of a serial killer whose work dates back to the 1960s.”

To cut a long story short, the murders are carried out by children, possessed by an evil Babylonian deity. The entire film has a creepy, ominous tone which builds towards the film’s conclusion. However, the focus of the movie is on Ellison, played by Ethan Hawke. As a character, I found Ellison particularly unlikeable and selfish – I never got a sense of the family as a unit. His wife, son and daughter are footnotes, completely inconsequential. I didn’t bond with them, I didn’t like them, I didn’t know them. So when the movie reached its zenith, I simply didn’t care about the fate of the family.

Contrast this with Insidious. Director James Wan spends roughly 15-20 minutes at the beginning, depicting the normal ebb and flow of the Lamberts. I cared about the family and what happened to them – I felt like I knew them. I was worried over what was going to happen to them. That’s why, despite the film’s flaws, I watched the sequel because I genuinely didn’t want to let them go. That’s what Insidious got right over Sinister – even though Patrick Wilson is the lead, the entire movie is an ensemble piece rather than focusing in on one character. By doing this, Wan encourages us to bond with all the characters and with the film overall.

To summarise, remember to make your audience care about all your characters. There’s little point in having one fully realised protagonist if your other characters are instantly forgettable. Often, it is the dynamics and interactions between family members which formulate the most joy within these types of horror films, so don’t squander it.

[tompatel95]

Daenerys, First of her Name.

It’s been a few months since that ending to Game of Thrones. Various thought pieces have been written, reviews analysing the show’s myriad parts and critiquing its execution. As with many fans, I felt a lot of emotions during the finale, none of them good. I’ve waited all this time to write this, to allow myself to simmer down. But, to be honest, I’m still raging – how could they do Daenerys dirty like that? Firstly, I acknowledge my status as a Dany stan. She has to be one of my all-time favourite characters and I resonate with her intensely – I felt actual grief at her death. Before anyone reading this begins to roll their eyes and mutter “overreaction,” Daenerys has helped me through the years. By identifying with her and her journey, I was able to get through bullying and mental health struggles. If anything, her travails provided a welcome respite from my struggles, privileged as they may be. However, I don’t believe I’m being biased here. So, let’s break it down. Much has been made by the cast that women are just as capable of being evil as men and Daenerys’ storyline proves that. Fair point, but this has been established since season 1 with Cersei. Cersei Lannister has been labelled as one of the greatest villains of all time, a nuanced combination of an overprivileged, entitled individual who still is underestimated on account of her gender. Indeed, Lena Headley’s portrayal has revealed that she is one of the most talented actresses of her generation. However, let’s delve into this myth of the ‘better sex.’ Women have been associated with evil since the very beginning. Circe, Medea, Lady Macbeth, the White Witch – the concept of evil women is embedded into our storytelling culture. Furthermore, these damsels-in-distress are painted as the exception – most women are unpleasant besides these princesses. Even within medieval Europe, the Virgin Mary was depicted as an impossible ideal rather than being exemplary of her gender. 

The most recent female villain who rocked our perceptions has to be Amy Dunne from Gone Girl. I feel Amy is what the writers were aiming for with Dany’s storyline, falling awfully short. What made Gone Girl so revolutionary isn’t Amy’s sociopathic nature, it’s that she got away with it. Amy outmanoeuvred her husband, the press, the police, all these smart, intelligent people. She used her white privilege as a weapon and got everything she desired – attention, wealth, a devoted husband, a child. There’s no karma, no repercussions; she wins. Saying that Dany’s storyline proves women can be evil just doesn’t hold up – especially given the kingdom goes to a man. Secondly, let’s tackle this idea or foreshadowing. It’s an important point to make – foreshadowing does not equal plot development. People have been muttering about the Mad Queen for years, yet a lot of this is hypocritical. Before she burns Kings Landing, Dany hasn’t done anything more atrocious than anybody else. Much has been made about her reaction/treatment of her brother and the slave masters. To those people I say, are we watching the same show? Viserys is abusive, violent and just as vicious as Joffrey. He had been tormenting Dany for her whole life – she stuck by him because where else would she go. However, once she marries Khal Drogo, once she begins to create her own family and comes into her own, why would she put up with his tirades? Why would she mourn him – this is the man would allow Khal Drogo’s entire khalasar and their horse rape her to get the Iron Throne, the man who threatened her unborn child. To those who now point to the crucifixion of the slave masters, well, they’re slave masters. I’m sorry, but I find this point so infuriating because they’re slave masters! You wouldn’t mourn jihadists dying, nor Nazis, yet somehow slave masters are legitimate individuals who deserve respect. Wow. And those who point out that Dany even killed those masters who were working towards abolition – the smallness of this plot point highlights how relevant the writers thought it was. Even accounting for that, it highlights Dany as rash, not mad. The Tarlys. Where to start with the Tarlys? I guess with one of the first scenes of season 1, where Ned Stark executes a member of the Night’s Watch, whose begging for his life. Or let’s go to Jon’s execution of Janos Slynt, who also begs for his life. Both these men ignore their victims’ pleas and kills them anyway, yet they’re still heralded as honourable men. Tyrion, Sansa, Arya, Theon; all have committed acts far worse than Dany’s execution of the Tarlys, yet Dany’s the bad guy. Both Randyll and Dickon Tarly go willingly to their deaths – all they had to do is bend the knee. Let’s not forget the xenophobic spiel Randyll spews before he dies as well. 

Speaking of racism, Dany is the sole character who actually doesn’t care about it. She is a white saviour, but that’s one of the tropes George RR Martin deconstructs. Ned’s death means the good guys don’t allows win, Robb’s death destroys the revenge narrative and Dany’s conquests highlights how, despite good intentions and the might of your army, if you don’t know the people you’re going to rule, you’ll struggle. Call me an apologist if you’d like, but Dany’s views on race and birth is refreshingly progressive. This is not echoed with the other characters. The northerners react with hostility towards Missandei and Grey Worm, and Sansa later says that Dany and her followers aren’t from the North – implying they shouldn’t be as loyal to them. Are we meant to care at all about what happens to the North now? How am I, a POC, meant to feel about this? I want any answer because all I can see the show trying to make me care about racists. Even Jon and Tyrion display classism – Jon dislikes his sworn brothers at the beginning and Tyrion mocks an attempt at a democracy. Daenerys promotes a former slave to leader of her armies. She comforts dying slaves as they hang, crucified and in her attacks on the slave cities, orders her armies not to harm any women or child. She removes rape from the Dothraki and Ironborn cultures and is devoted to equality. She would’ve revolutionised Westeros, bringing it under a centralised government and, due to her dragons, dealt with local warlords quickly and effectively. Indeed, an interesting angle would have been, yes, Dany’s a tyrant, but her rule was necessary for Westeros’ progression. Russia wouldn’t be the power it is today without Peter the Great, and he dragged Russia into modernity on the backs and bones of serfs. Whilst his actions are deplorable, it is undeniable that Russia wouldn’t be the superpower it is without him. So, even if the writers wanted to go down the Mad Queen route, this would’ve been a far more innovative angle rather than Dany throwing a temper tantrum. To conclude, I’m still angry. Dany’s treatment has ruined the show for me, especially given her treatment by fellow characters and the writers. She had no family but made something of herself whilst remaining true to herself. Long may she reign!

[tompatel95]

Wicked Saints by Emily A. Duncan review

There’s been a lot of buzz about Wicked Saints and I’m pleased the hype is real! I was completely obvious to it, only discovering the book through Kindle recommends. I had little idea what the story was about before diving in, so I was surprised, horrified and delighted in equal measure.

 Before we get started, below is GoodReads’ synopsis:

 A girl who can speak to gods must save her people without destroying herself.

 A prince in danger must decide who to trust.

 A boy with a monstrous secret waits in the wings.

 Together, they must assassinate the king and stop the war.

 In a centuries-long war where beauty and brutality meet, their three paths entwine in a shadowy world of spilled blood and mysterious saints, where a forbidden romance threatens to tip the scales between dark and light. Wicked Saints is the thrilling start to Emily A. Duncan’s devastatingly Gothic Something Dark and Holy trilogy.

 So, what are the positives about Wicked Saints? Firstly, it’s a fully realised fantastical world, inspired by Slavic folklore. There’s been quite a few comparisons with Leigh Bardugo’s Grishaverse, yet I found any similarities to be superficial at best. In Bardugo’s own words, her works are inspired by imperial Russia, whilst Wicked Saints is definitely medieval in tone.

               Moreover, each chapter begins with a brief biography of one of the Gods or Saints, helping to build the religious system of this world. Personally, it felt so real and tangible that I was immediately transported within the first few pages.

               With one exception, the characters were engaging and absorbing. The main character, Nadya, can commune directly with the Gods and is dedicated to ridding her world of heretical blood magic. Nadya is refreshing – she’s so sure of her destiny and accepts it, unlike many YA protagonists. Additionally, her faith in the gods provides her with strength, yet her doubt renders her belief believable. As a Hindu, I really responded to this as it is rare that religion is depicted positively at all in contemporary culture.

               Nadya’s counterpart is the High Prince Serefin, an accomplished Blood Mage. Alongside the rest of his kingdom, Serefin has rejected the Gods and practises blood magic. Whilst our first introduction to Serefin paints him as a villain (he burns down Nadya’s home), his chapters illuminate his character – his fractious relationship with his father, his companionship with his fellow soldiers Ostiya and Kacper, his love for his country. He’s drunk, witty, snarky and utterly charming.

               Other supporting characters, from Rashid to the Queen’s witch, help to boost up the narrative whilst still enjoying character arcs of their own.

Are there any negatives to the book? Well . . . yes. The most glaring one is Malachiasz. As Nadya’s love interest, he follows the enemies to lovers trope. There’s also a touch of the insta-love about their entire relationship. Now, don’t get me wrong, these techniques can work – Zelie and Iman from Children of Blood and Bone work fabulously, as do Elias and Laia of Ember in the Ashes. However, Malachiasz felt kind of bleurgh. I found him dull and I couldn’t understand Nadya’s attraction to him, even despite his multiple lies and manipulations. Personally, I feel like Nadya and Serefin are a far better fit, which may be the direction the story is heading. A huge part of Malachiasz’s blandness is that he doesn’t have a POV chapter like Nadya and Serefin. Without an insight into his psychology, he comes across as just another tortured bad boy – utterly forgettable.

               Secondly, there’s a sense of confusion within the narrative which is never resolved. The book never appears to make up it’s mind over whether the Gods are good or bad – do they deserve Nadya’s devotion? I feel like Emily A. Duncan will head down the latter route which would be a shame – as mentioned earlier, it’s nice to see the positives of religion highlighted. Who the actual villain is remains confusing; if you’re going to play around with whose the villain and whose the hero ala George RR Martin, you need to know what you’re doing. Speaking of Game of Thrones, I felt the political machinations weren’t intricate enough.

Information was found out easier and the political elements were simplified. I wanted more conniving, manipulation from a variety of characters, not just the main ones. Billed as a bloody, gothic fantasy, this element felt underwhelming. Lastly, the magic is underdeveloped. Whilst the blood magic is ingenious, I felt like I don’t understand the rules of magic and where it comes from. The gods? Humans? Who knows.

 In conclusion, I do recommend this book. It’s enjoyable, engrossing and immersive. The issues with it will hopefully be ironed out with the sequel next year. It’s already on my wishlist!

[tompatel95]

Witch Born by Nicholas Bowling review

Where do I begin with Witch Born? I guess with how I discovered it. I remember it vividly because it was the first time, I used my Waterstones Staff Discount card. The book was on one of those round tables Waterstones have dotted around, and it caught my eye as I was leaving. The cover is truly sumptuous, and the blurb made the novel appear dark, twisted and witchy.

 A brief synopsis, courtesy of Good Reads: “Alyce's mother has just been burnt at the stake for practicing witchcraft. With only a thin set of instructions and a witch's mommet for guidance, Alyce must face the world that she's been sealed off from -- a world of fear and superstition. With a witch hunter fast on her trail, she'll need the help of an innkeeper and a boy looking to discover the truth behind his own mother's past.

 But as her journey continues, another war rages: a hidden war of the supernatural, of the living and the dead. Good and evil are blurred, and nobody's motives can be trusted. And Alyce finds herself thrown unwillingly into the conflict. Struggling to understand her own powers, she is quickly drawn into a web of secret, lies, and dark magic that could change the fate of the world she is just coming to know.

 This dark, twisty, and thrillingly original debut will leave readers entranced in its suspenseful plot and rich prose.”

 I do want to say that I enjoyed Witch Born immensely. Within the first chapter, I was gripped. The main character, Alyce, feels like the teenage girl she’s written to be. I found her funny, engaging and within a few paragraphs, I genuinely cared around her and what happens. The supporting cast is just as vivid; Solomon is a quiet and sensitive love interest, balancing out Alyce’s hot-headedness. My only gripe is that Queen Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots feel unwritten – even though I enjoyed their character arcs, they needed to be fleshed out somewhat more. However, the characters are easily the best part of the entire book.

Interestingly, the book’s major flaw is also one of its strengths. Nicholas Bowling is excellent at world-building; the Tudor setting feels tangible. The way he describes London is visceral and draws you in – I lost myself in Alyce’s travels through the city, nearly missing my train stop! However, it is the vagueness of the magic which lets him down. A big deal is made of Alyce’s mommet through the book, yet it plays no major role in the plot. Witchcraft itself is undefined – they appear more pagan than devil-worshippers, yet their beliefs are only alluded too.

 Likewise, the book is marketed as a dark, twisted tale, concerning political intrigue, witchcraft and Bedlam. However, I feel the book is light-hearted in tone, more akin to Harry Potter than Macbeth.

 Indeed, the book felt rushed in places, resulting in a lacklustre ending. If the book was part of a series, this wooliness wouldn’t be so much of an issue as it could be straightened out in sequels. I feel that the book needs a sequel, yet there appears to be no plans for one.

 To conclude, I thoroughly enjoyed Witch Born. It has its flaws, but ultimately, it’s a thoroughly enjoyable and entertaining read.

[tompatel95]

Aphrodite and Brands.

Happy Summer my lucky readers. The sun is out; ‘tis the season of barbeques, beaches and the growing extensional panic due to the climate crisis. Interestingly, July is also the month of the Aphrodisia and the Adonia – twin festivals celebrating the Great Goddess of Love herself, Aphrodite. Now, I know what you’re thinking; the link between Aphrodite’s ancient libations and brand purpose is glaringly clear, Captain Obvious. But, hear me out. Although to our modern ideas, Aphrodite is the raunchy deity of sex and beauty, she was so much more to the Greeks. Aphrodite represented unity, union and empathy. That last quality is what makes Aphrodite truly relevant to our conversation today – the importance of empathy within social purpose.

As an Olympian, Aphrodite had a retinue of lesser deities and demigods representing the various facets of her character. The most famous of her attendants has to be Eros, better known by his Roman name, Cupid. Eros is particularly appropriate to us right now – he is the personification of queer love. This Pride, there has been a growing backlash against corporations co-opting LGBTQIA+ causes and culture; seen by many as nothing more than a cash. Indeed, there’s a litany of dank memes which mock how organisations abandon queer causes once June is over. 

Interestingly, Buzzfeed News and Whitman Insight Strategies did a national poll for Pride and 76% of responses believed corporate brands were welcome to partake in Pride festivities. This is a direct contrast to the poignant articles printed in HuffPost and the Guardian, criticising the commerciality of Pride, saying that the blatant capitalism runs against the spirit of the original Stonewall riots.

So, what do we make of this? Let’s turn our attention back to Kypris herself, Aphrodite. As Aphrodite Pandemos, she bonded the Grecian cities together, presiding over civic unity. And in her elevated aspect, Aphrodite Ourania, the Cyprian maintained cosmic harmony, binding the metaphysical representations of the Gods together. She is empathy personified, and it is this empathy which we should heed.

Case in point, look at Smirnoff. The vodka brand has been supporting the LGBTQIA+ community for decades, well before it became fashionable. They’ve donated half a million dollars to the Human Rights Campaign and have pledged to donate another million dollars by 2021. Their gorgeous Love Wins bottles are back and a dollar is donated to the Human Rights Campaign with everyone sold. Smirnoff’s campaign stars a prominent transwoman of colour, Laverne Cox and celebrates LGBTQIA+ communities around the globe. As we can see, empathy forms the root of their purpose; a legitimate concern to celebrate and support queer causes, both within and outside of Pride Month. Aphrodite Approved

Aphrodite also has another aspect; Aphrodite en Kepois. As Aphrodite ‘Of the Gardens,’ Kypris monitors fertility, both of women and, according to some scholars, the harvest. You’re probably thinking “bloody hell you’re really reaching with this Aphrodite metaphor now.” You may be right but listen. Our Love Goddess enjoyed a certain proto-body-politic with the earth, a divine link between humanity and the earth (although other chthonic deities such as Demeter and Persephone personify this more succinctly). Aphrodite en Kepois is the celestial empathetic link between man and earth, and we should honour this bond through authentic environmental purpose.

A particularly didactic company is Bodyshop. Their brand purpose is intrinsically linked with their brand story, making them a legitimately good company. For instance, they launched Community Trade in 1987 which is their commitment to trading fairly with suppliers and in exchange they offer good trading practices and independence building prices. A good example of this in practice is their shea butter, which comes from the Tungteiya Women’s Association in northern Ghana since 1994. Bodyshop ay a fair price and pay a premium to help empower these women and help them to achieve an independent income, increased confidence and respect. This premium also helps fund community projects that positively impact the lives of 49,000 people across 11 villages every year. These community projects include building 7 schools that educate 1,200 students and enabling access for the community to safe water and health centres.

David Attenborough has highlighted the negative impact of constricting spaces on wildlife, so Bodyshop is dedicated to rewilding via bio-bridges which link various natural parks together and help local communities live more sustainably. The company is also virulently against animal testing and fighting against plastic pollution. Bodyshop’s entire stance can be summed up with a quote by its founder, Dame Anita Roddick – “My passionate belief is that business can be fun, it can be conducted with love and a powerful force for good.” Aphrodite Approved

To conclude, what have we learnt today? Firstly, I know a lot about Aphrodite. But, more crucially, the importance of empathy within social purpose. Consumers are canny – they can sniff out inauthentic brand purpose a mile off. Just see the criticism certain brands have faced this Pride. Social purpose isn’t an impossible mountain to climb – as long as a genuine sense of humanity guides its core, you’ll struggle to go wrong.