Fiction
Nonfiction
This was a good book. I found it engaging but not so good that I couldn't put it down. Actually, towards the end I found myself carving out time to read it. It's a romance with a twist. I'd like to see the movie. I'm going to read the second in the series, After You next, so that's saying something.
“A Game of Thrones” by George R.R. Martin tells the tale of various clashing households and their quest to conquer control over the seven kingdoms. Set in a distant, but vaguely familiar medieval-Europe, the story bears parallels to England’s “War of the Roses,” while also introducing its share of unique fantasy elements. As the reader progresses through the book, they follow the politics of the Iron Throne- a metaphor representing the complete and utter control a King possesses in a feudal government system. Furthermore, the reader tracks 8 character perspectives, which are alternated through passing chapters.
As the King rides north to Winterfell to meet with his trusted vassal, and friend, Eddard "Ned" Stark, he strikes up an agreement to anoint Eddard as the hand of the king. Reluctant, Ned follows the King back to the South, but as the plot continues to unfold, Eddard learns of a secret unbeknownst to the King and some of his most trusted advisers. With the death of the King and the ruin of Eddard’s house, war rages in Westeros- as several characters attempt to strike their claims on the Iron Throne.
I initially picked this book up after finishing J.R.R Tolkien’s, “Lord of the Rings” series and have been pleasantly surprised with it. Many fantasy readers have speculated that the literary masterpiece of Tolkien’s novels could not be out done, but I am now inclined to disagree. I thought the book was well-crafted and engaging as an intermediate to advanced reader. However, I would file the complaint that the book moves a bit slow for my taste. Some may lose interest in its plot, especially considering the sheer volume of the book series. The old-language also adds to this effect, as it may cause some readers to struggle following along.
Overall, I would say that this book is certainly worth a try for someone who enjoys medieval-fantasy novels. Admittedly, it will take a while to read and is certainly no small undertaking, but by sticking with it, I found myself enjoying every page more than the last!
Grade 10
Growing up in the 1990’s, one of the defining books that helped me understand the world around me was David Macaulay’s The Way Things Work. Using “cartoonish” drawings of plenty of everyday (and not so everyday) machines, I gained plenty of useful knowledge that probably led me to eventually earn my Master’s Degree in Mechanical Engineering in 2009. While Macaulay’s illustrations were straight forward enough that they didn’t need explanations, some concepts around today certainly need some words to help gain an understanding of the way things work.
Enter Randall Munroe, famed “xkcd” webcomic author and an all around smart guy. In late 2012, he published a comic that described each of the systems in NASA’s Saturn V rocket with simple words. Described as “U.S. Space Team’s Up Goer Five,” the concept of using shorter, more common words to explain complicated concepts came to its full fruition in Thing Explainer. Using the thousand most common words, Munroe manages to humorously and thoroughly explain such “things” as the U.S. Constitution, The International Space Station, and the Large Hadron Collider (amongst many other common and complicated ideas).
While the concept is fun and this book could easily be used to help children understand these fascinating ideas, the thousand-word constraint is also its biggest weakness. Sure, I could deduce that “shafts” were usually “sticks” (or “hallways” if they were like mine shafts), and “fire water” often meant gasoline (or some other combustible fuel). However, I often found myself trying to figure out what the actual name of the item or part in question was because the “simple” name wasn’t self-explanatory. Also, it was sometimes a challenge to read all the small text, as it usually wasn’t arranged in a linear format, instead appearing in chunks around the illustrations to be close to the parts that were being described.
A unique concept to bring advanced technological knowledge to everyone, I give Thing Explainer 4.0 stars out of 5.
After Dan Brown’s previous entries in the Robert Langdon series had covered the Illuminati and the Catholic Church, respectively, his next target in The Lost Symbol was the Masons. Unfortunately, as both National Treasure (2004) and its sequel, National Treasure: Book of Secrets (2007), were released before this book came out, the setting and concept seemed derivative in The Lost Symbol. Especially with the focus on the Masons’ “treasure” for the better part of the book, I was half expecting the chase to be on a larger scale than just hopping from one Washington D.C. monument to the next as the puzzle unfolds.
In a bit of a combination of Angels & Demons and The Da Vinci Code, The Lost Symbol combines the exciting twists of uncovering the secrets of a Masonic pyramid with the pseudoscience of Noetics. Of course, the plot could have omitted everything about Noetics, and it would have stood just fine on its own, so I question why it was even needed at all, except for some familial drama and a series of wordplays near the end of the book. In my mind, the puzzle-solving element brought over from The Da Vinci Code was much stronger than the “science” brought over from Angels & Demons.
As for the book’s antagonist, I initially felt he was merely formulaic to the other enemies from previous Robert Langdon books. After all, when you have a self-motivated Illuminati Agent in Angels & Demons and an albino religious zealot in The Da Vinci Code when you have a tattooed Masonic muscleman as the antagonist in The Lost Symbol, you start to see the similarities. At least this time the antagonist had a great twist near the end. However, like some of the other “twists” in this book, if you were paying close enough attention, you would have figured it out before its reveal.
A procedural combination of the previous two books in the Robert Langdon series, I give The Lost Symbol 3.5 stars out of 5.
Shakespeare's Othello is about a Moorish general for the Venetian army, Othello, who falls in love with a Venetian lady, Desdemona. Unfortunately, Desdemona's father is very racist and sees Othello as vermin when he finds out they're in love. Being Shakespeare, this book is very tragic.
Though this play may have been well-written, I don't have much else good to say. The plot is extremely simplified, and the characters are infuriatingly stupid. This book is not a boring read, but it is also in no way interesting.
The characters are not very developed, relatable, or lovable. This dramatically stunts this play's ability to be tragic. Needless to say, I am not a huge fan of this book, but there were some good things about it.
Reviewer Grade: 11
This is an incredible book. One day, while going through some stuff in my basement, I came along this book and decided to read it even though I already have a bazillion books I plan on reading. This one surprised me. It is so funny yet so sad as you get to grow up with this witty young boy through the trials and tribulations of living in Ireland with a dad that can't keep a steady job "enough to feed ya a days meal" and the hardship the school boys bring on the daily. You will probably find yourself crying and laughing at the same time all throughout this book. It's just a work of art.
Back in the zombie heyday of 2009, the idea of combining one of the most feminine pieces of literature with the oft masculine-marketed gory violence seemed like an interesting idea. I, for one, didn’t particularly care to read Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice , but this take on the romantic classic certainly piqued my interest. Because of the addition of zombies to this plot, I was impelled to read this story to see how these drastically different archetypes were combined. I certainly wonder if the book would have been more enjoyable if I had read Pride and Prejudice beforehand, or if I would have remained far abreast of it altogether.
Partly due to the severe dichotomy of the original story and the zombie additions, there were certainly moments where I could tell what segments of Jane Austen’s plot were modified to fit the new, apocalyptic sensibilities.
The two concepts worked together somewhat, occasionally adding action to a scene that would have likely been boring in its predecessor, but in maintaining the story and outcomes of the original, the whole experiment didn’t quite “gel” as it could have. Perhaps the addition of the prequel and sequel to this book helps to round out these distinct edges, but I have yet to read those books yet.
When it comes right down to it, I struggled to get through this book. With the language and verbiage retaining is feel from the original, the archaic nature of the dialogue was not as easy to read as I would have hoped. In the end, I was practically just reading Pride and Prejudice, but occasionally “changing the channel” to a zombie film whenever anything became boring.
I applaud Seth Grahame-Smith for following through on this ambitious idea, but it almost seems like anyone could easily merge zombies to a romantic classic if they maintain the majority of the source material.
An intriguing idea that never quite fully “connects,” I give Pride and Prejudice and Zombies 3.0 stars out of 5.
Despite struggling through both Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters , I was pleased to find the most lengthy of these “monster classics,” Android Karenina, was a fast and engaging read.
If anything, it proves to me that I can’t grasp Jane Austen’s writing style nearly as smoothly as I can Leo Tolstoy’s. Part of the ease of reading Android Karenina probably came from knowing the original plot ahead of time a little better than I did for Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility . And yet, the real reason is more visceral than that.
What Android Karenina’s predecessors attempted was to take two vastly different genres and mash them together in the hope that the combination would interest readers. Where Android Karenina succeeds where the others have failed is that the addition of the steampunk/science fiction genre enhances the story. Adding zombies or sea monsters to a romantic story to liven up the boring sections merely accentuates where these boring parts are. When the robotic-themed changes to a piece of classic Russian literature directly enforce the overt themes of the rise of communism, then the story becomes much more compelling.
Granted, some of the source material can be easily implied past the steampunk coverings, but that’s always been the case with these “Quirk Classics.”
At the very least, the pacing of this story kept my interest throughout and rarely dragged itself down via the “drama” of aristocratic gossip and endless discussion of potential marriage partners. But again, this is likely the outcome of adapting Leo Tolstoy instead of Jane Austen. After reading this book, I certainly want to go back and read the original Anna Karenina , even despite the hefty page count.
An enhanced version of Tolstoy’s original in more ways than one, I give Android Karenina 4.0 stars out of 5.
A coworker of mine suggested this book to me a few months back. The title sounded interesting, so I put it on my Overdrive wish list and waited for it to become available. Both he and I have a somewhat thorough understanding of Japanese culture, so once I got into this book, I found myself imagining it as an anime. Of course, because The Wind-up Bird Chronicle was originally written in Japanese, there are plenty of cultural idiosyncrasies that might be hard to understand from a different cultural viewpoint. At times, the content is a bit weird, the sex awkward, and the violence strangely surgical.
What was quite refreshing with the narrative in The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, was its timelessness. Written in the early 1990’s and set in the mid-1980’s, only a few technological items (i.e. a land line, an early computer, etc.) haven’t held up well over time. Everything else about the story is so character-driven that it could probably happen at any time. These characters are odd, to say the least. From psychic sisters named after Mediterranean islands to a wealthy perfectionist mother and her mute son, many of their sub-plots do end up tying together in the not-so-surprising ending.
As a “chronicle,” the book does feel episodic at times, hence why I imagined it as an anime. Because I have seen a lot of anime, the content of this book didn’t surprise me. There’s some weird stuff out there, and Japan seems to create quite a bit of it. While the sex and violence might be off-putting to some, it’s not necessarily erotic or graphic in its presentation; it is merely a fact of life. A strange life, to say the least, but a life nonetheless. Parts “slice of life,” “harem,” and “psychological thriller,” in terms of genre, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle is an excellent book for anyone already accustomed to Japanese storytelling.
A prime example of an almost “standard” Japanese plot, I give The Wind-up Bird Chronicle 3.5 stars out of 5.
After struggling my way through Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, I thought perhaps the next entry in the “Quirk Classics” line of books would be better. After all, it had a new co-author (alongside Jane Austen) and replaced the almost cliché zombie trope with the lesser-seen sea monster framing. Unfortunately, I once again found myself struggling through the archaic language of Austen’s time. Not only that, but I felt there was far too much talking and way too much nonsense, and that wasn’t even about the sea monsters. I’m starting to suspect that I just plain don’t like Jane Austen’s writing.
Half of the book is practically filled with young women swooning over eligible bachelors, learning that these bachelors are engaged or married, and then becoming depressed because of this revelation. If they spent less time gossiping and more time communicating, perhaps they wouldn’t have these problems. Of course, I realize that this was probably an artifact of the era in which the original Sense and Sensibility was written, but it all seems pretty “senseless” if you ask me. Speaking of senseless, this book certainly delivers on a lot of it, when it comes to the violence of the sea monsters.
As was the case with Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, I feel Austen’s prose holds back the potential for a much more interesting story. Practically steampunk in its underwater cities and rudimentary diving systems, if this book was an original story, I think it would have been much more interesting to read instead of having to slog through another Jane Austen novel. Of course, most people probably wouldn’t have picked up such a novel, because they wouldn’t know what it’s about. Modifying a Jane Austen story merely gets readers in the door, but it seems like a lazy solution to gain sales instead of a way to create an engaging narrative.
Another attempt at fusing Jane Austen with unnecessary violence, I give Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters 3.0 stars out of 5.
Once again, I find that the source material on which a famous movie is based is equally as good and equally as famous. What strikes me as interesting is that the quick turn on some of these literary masterpieces from page to screen has largely remained unchanged. Gone with the Wind only took three years before its film debut, The Martian took four years, and Psycho only took one. Clearly, these stories are practically screaming to be made into movies, and most have done quite well as the cultural icons of their age.
Of course, having already seen the film on which this book was based, I was well aware of the twist ending. Nevertheless, reading through this book was almost enhanced by this a priori knowledge as one would probably not have guessed the twist if they were reading it for the very first time. There are just little hints here and there that something is off, but it’s not until close to the end that we find out that everything is not as it initially seemed. Even the visuals provided in the film version helped to aid my imagination in establishing the setting and characters.
And yet, as there always is, there are some differences in the book that did not make it into the movie. I wonder if Norman Bates was made a lot slimmer in the film partly due to Hitchcock’s portly frame. In the book, his overweight body adds a layer to the character (both literally and metaphorically) which helps flesh out (Har har. OK, I’ll stop) more of the explanations as to why Bates ended up this way. Much like One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, being able to get into the mind of Norman Bates was a fascinating examination of someone with a severe mental illness.
A fantastic read equally on par with the Hitchcock classic, I give Psycho 5.0 stars out of 5.
OK, I’ll be the first to admit that perhaps the audiobook version of this
story isn’t the best way to digest it. While I did appreciate the Irish
accent of the man who read this book, there really wasn’t much of a chance
to re-read sections that were quite confusing. As a result, I have no idea
what this book is about or what it was supposed to convey. I had a loose
understanding that it was based on Homer’s The Odyssey, which helped make a
few connections here and there, but I honestly can’t say that this parallel
between the plots of the two stories is obvious at all.
Perhaps the weakness I perceive in this story is due to its status as one of
the great pieces of modernist literature. If that’s the case, then I’ll
admit that I don’t understand modernist literature at all. None of it made
any sense at all. I would almost wager, at times, that Joyce was merely paid
by the word, thus explaining the numerous times he just listed off the names
of people, synonyms of words, or just rambled on until he made a couple extra
shillings. Of course, it could be that I expected a story to be present
instead of a loose string of poetic and complicated words. Maybe that’s the
link it shares with The Odyssey: both are epic poems (but for my money, I’d
read The Odyssey again in a heartbeat instead of this).
This is also not to mention the controversial topics that Joyce covers in
this book. From sex to religion and back to sex again, I wouldn’t say I
agree with his opinions on anything. For years I’ve heard that this is one
of the great stories of literature, but I can’t say I’m impressed. None
of it was particularly inspiring (the parts that made any sense, that is) and
if he had a point to make, it was lost on me. Again, I might get more out of
Ulysses if I was able to read it instead of listening to it, but as it stands
I don’t have any interest in reading this lengthy piece of nothingness
after having had to listen to it.
A disappointing and confusing piece of “literature”, I give Ulysses 1.0
stars out of 5
I grew up on the humor writings of Dave Barry. Each week I’d take his humor
column to school and read it to my friends during my lunch break, laughing at
his comedic style and funny topics. Consequently, I found myself enthralled
by his books, each one leaving me in stitches due to his observational humor
of the weird world around us (or at least around Miami, Florida). I was
saddened when he decided to retire from writing these weekly humor columns.
As such, each time he releases a new book full of his writings (mainly essays
now), I usually pick it up out of habit.
While I can usually blow through one of Dave Barry’s books in a couple
hours, I’m finding that I’m not nearly as amused as I used to be. It
could be that I’ve grown up a bit and no longer find boogers as funny as I
once did, but I think the issue lies at a deeper level of Dave’s writing.
Where his previous books written during his heyday were all essentially
centered around a common theme (Cyberspace, Japan, Aging, Home Repair, etc.)
recently his books have been whatever he’s done most recently. The problem
this creates is that each of the individual essays of the book is disjointed
from all the other ones.
Essentially, even though it would mean a much longer hiatus from Mr.
Barry’s humorous writing, I would enjoy his “themed” essay collections
more than the ones he’s put forward in most recent three books. In fact, he
could probably categorize them into three different books about international
travel, teenage daughters, and current homeland topics. As it is right now,
I’ll probably still buy Dave Barry’s books, but I’m not laughing as
much as I used to.
Another adequate collection of humorous essays by Dave Barry, I give Live
Right and Find Happiness 3.0 stars out of 5.
I was honestly surprised by this book. As has been the case with most
comedians and the books they have written, I expected this to be a bit of an
autobiography in the veins of Bossypants , Yes Please , The Bassoon King: My
Life in Art, Faith, and Idiocy , and Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?
Instead, I was presented with a book filled with data, analysis, and
information about how modern relationships work when compared with the
relationships of past generations. Having gone through some of this “Modern
Romance” myself, I could certainly relate to the information being
presented, nodding my head in agreement as things I noticed suddenly had
explanations pinned to them.
But it wasn’t that the book was not an autobiography that surprised me, it
was the humorous way that Aziz Ansari managed to present this subject matter,
while also maintaining high scientific rigor. If I were to put this in a
category of non-fiction humor, it would probably be in the vein of I Am
America but without the tongue-in-cheek satire. Maybe I’m even wrong in
this characterization and it should fall under the collections of humor
around a single topic, like the works of Dave Barry. Either way, this book
was informative and not judgmental in the slightest. It was merely presenting
the facts that had been discovered, but in such a way that made me laugh
about the whole situation.
For those people who are in relationships, want to be in relationships, or
who just want to play the singles game, this book is an optimistic look at
what has changed, what is likely becoming the “norm”, and what we should
all expect from relationships in the future. Simply put, the smartphone has
complicated the world of romance, but it has also given a lot of benefit to
those who know how to use it as a tool to get what they want out of life. I
would almost encourage Ansari to continue writing books like this, because
his humor has made a somewhat dry subject a lot more palatable.
A great book that explores why the dating scene is so different now, I give
Modern Romance 4.0 stars out of 5.
As one of the few films in American history to win the “big 5” Academy
Awards (which are Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, and Screenplay), I
was interested in the book that helped One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
attain its award-worthy status. I figured that if such a book could provide
such great content to win awards as a movie, it would certainly have artistic
merit in its own right. After all, many people posit that a book is better
than the movie it is made out of. I wanted to make sure that, at the very
least, it wasn’t any worse than the movie.
Perhaps the largest difference between the two versions of this story (I’m
not going to go into the live-theatre version, since I haven’t seen it), is
that the book has a very interesting narrator in the character of “Chief”
Bromden, whereas the film merely uses the camera to tell the story. Because
we get a glimpse into the mind of the deaf mute giant, he becomes not only a
subjective observer of the situation around him but also a vivid example of
what mental illness feels like. Instead of just focusing on the ways Randle
McMurphy bucks the stringent hospital system, we also get a sense of how
reality is filtered through a disabled mind.
As is usually the case with movie versions, I noticed a lot more content and
characters in the book version because it was likely these extraneous
elements were removed from the film for content and run-time issues. Still, I
wonder if the film would have had more of an impact on educating audiences
about mental illness if it included some of the Chief’s unique
observations. Either way, both the film and the book are excellent pieces of
art, even if it may be a little difficult to swallow at times that these
mental hospital practices have only recently been changed for the better.
An excellent book that spawned an excellent movie, I give One Flew Over the
Cuckoo’s Nest 4.5 stars out of 5.
I grew up on Bill Nye’s science show on PBS. I appreciated his
straightforward approach to teaching science to children that was both
informative and humorous. Possibly in part due to this, I now find myself
with a Master’s degree in Mechanical Engineering and employed in a very
technical field. I also find myself writing books which are surreptitiously
educational, hoping that the entertainment value of my writing will subtly
inspire people to learn more about science. Consequently, merely based on the
author of this book, I was interested in reading it, despite the somewhat
vague and ambiguous title.
While there was plenty of very interesting material presented in this book,
much of it I had already known about by keeping up with the technological
advances of the world today, I felt like its order was a little off. Right
from the get-go, Nye hammers home that global climate change is a problem.
The entire rest of the book then explores technologies and developments that
could potentially solve, or at least abet the rapid rate of change leading to
our soon-to-be unsustainable world. As a result, there’s a bit of fear
introduced from the beginning that is tugged on throughout. I would have
flipped these topics around and shown all the neat scientific breakthroughs
(or near breakthroughs) we have in our current world, then use the knowledge
of these advancements to address the climate change issue. In this way, I
think the tone would be more inspiring and lead more people to pursue the
solutions instead of being alarmist and driving people to act out of fear
instead of out of the hope of what our future could be if we act now.
Nye’s trademark humor is sprinkled throughout his writing, which made
reading this book enjoyable. Furthermore, since he takes a very personal
approach with his examples and stories (I love his “love/hate”
relationship with Ed Begley Jr.), many of his opinions leak through. Many
times throughout the book, these opinions came off to me as a bit
off-putting, especially if the person reading this book happens to be of an
opinion differing from Nye’s. As such, there was a bit of “preaching to
the choir” that might not be helpful when trying to change the minds of
those who don’t share the same opinions. Still, his attempts at re-framing
the problem of global climate change and adjusting how we think about it were
quite admirable and I think everyone should give his ideas a chance.
A tale of both imminent danger and inspiration, I give Unstoppable 3.5 stars
out of 5.
The first time I was introduced to Alan Glynn’s writing was through the
film, Limitless (2011), which itself was based off his first novel, The Dark
Fields. While I enjoyed the film for its visuals, what really struck me as
interesting was the storytelling and characters Glynn created. Now fifteen
years after his first standalone novel, Paradime continues to show Glynn’s
talent in creating engaging plots and characters. Since I really enjoyed this
book, I will do my best to review it without spoiling it for anyone.
At its most simple level, Paradime is a modernized retelling of Mark
Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper, or at least half of it anyway. Told from
the perspective of an out-of-work and out-of-luck cook, Danny Lynch, the
pacing of each of the three acts is steady and intense. Even if some of
Danny’s vocabulary seems a little advanced at times, he is the perfect
“everyman” to convey his peculiar circumstances to the reader. Those
familiar with Limitless will probably see many parallels between the two
stories, with the main exception being how the story ends for Danny.
Glynn’s writing style is very natural and easy to read in this modern
thriller. Each chapter left me wanting to read more and I found myself having
difficulty stopping because the pull of the plot was so intense. I also
appreciated the ability of Glynn to tie things up in an almost unexpectedly
expected way so that no detail in this book was left unused. While this may
have been the first time I’ve read anything by Alan Glynn, I am now
certainly a fan and will have to go back and pick up his other books to read.
A fast-paced and thrilling read, I give Paradime 5.0 stars out of 5.
If you’ve been following along recently, you’ll know that I’ve been on
a bit of a “movie” kick when it comes to the audiobooks I’ve listened
to. While there are plenty of movies based on books, I haven’t really been
one to read novelizations of movies. That being said, I’ve found the
writing style in my own novels to be a bit of a novelization of the ideas in
my mind, since I usually try and describe scenes in a cinematic way. At any
rate, I was expecting a story that held close to the film, and this book
certainly delivered on that promise.
I’ll admit that the more I think about the plot and characters of The Force
Awakens, the more I find that it almost exactly matches the events of A New
Hope. However, there were some weaknesses in the first installment of the
Star Wars franchise that I feel are addressed in this recent installment.
Sure, all the elements are there, but they’ve been mixed around into
different characters, settings, and conflicts that add a bit more depth to
the story than the archetypical one presented in A New Hope. As a reboot, The
Force Awakens does an excellent job of calling back to what made the original
great, but doing so in a way that is still different enough to provide
interesting twists and questions.
One thing I do like about this version of the story, compared to the movie,
is the “deleted scenes” that help explain some of the plot holes from the
film. Maybe these scenes hindered the flow of the movie (or weren’t
important enough to include) but they certainly helped me understand the
story a lot better now that I know about them. Finally, while I know that
many films have “enhanced audio” for blind people, I’d almost recommend
these people listen to this audiobook instead. The music, sound effects, and
even many of the actors’ voices all are used at a pace that’s much slower
in order to really grasp what’s happening with the story.
A fantastic audiobook that faithfully captures everything (and more) that
made the film great, I give Star Wars: The Force Awakens 4.5 stars out of 5.
One of the nice things about listening to audiobooks from my library (via the
Overdrive app), is that I can pick up a book and listen to it without really
knowing what it’s about other than a title and a cover. In this way, I
often have no preconceived notions about the book other than first
impressions. At this point, all I’m giving up to “read” the book is the
time it takes me to listen to it, and I have plenty of that driving to and
from work every day.
Since I had no idea what this book was really about, I was surprised at how
humorous it was. If I were to combine a few, better-known series together,
I’d say this is X-Men mixed with James Bond, with just a dash of Jason
Bourne all blended together in Monty Python’s Flying Circus. An odd
combination, I know. But somehow, it works here. The humor is markedly
British, but the characters and their powers are supernatural, to say the
least. Since this was merely the first in a developing series, I can’t wait
to get to book #2: Stiletto.
All this being said, there were a few structural choices to this book that I
often found confusing, which may just be part of listening to it in audiobook
form instead of reading it. First off, the decision to have the main
character afflicted with amnesia was an interesting way to essentially give
the audience what the character already would have known but had conveniently
forgotten. Secondly, because the letters from her former self were used as
backstory, these “flashbacks” were often confusing because it was easy to
lose track of which Mfwany Thomas (glad I had the audiobook for the
pronunciation of this name) was “speaking” at the moment.
An interesting premise with plenty of potential in future iterations, I give
The Rook 4.0 stars out of 5.
While I saw the movie before listening to the audiobook, I must say that I
still really enjoy the main character. He’s one of those guys you love to
hate, but he’s trying so hard to do the right thing, even if it means
defending a scumbag who deserves a lot worse. Of course, since I had seen the
movie already, I had an idea how it was going to end, but couldn’t remember
the specifics. Perhaps that’s a measure of a great crime drama: all the
misdirection makes it difficult to know “whodunit”, allowing future
rereads to be enjoyable.
But, back to the main character, Mickey Haller, I think one of the reasons
this book was a breeze to listen to was because the main character’s POV is
so well written. You can tell that he has some baggage from his father, which
is partly why he defends everyone, regardless if they’re guilty or not. The
fact that Haller knows his way around the legal system and uses it to his
advantage to even get the guilty an innocent ruling just shows that he takes
pride in his work, even if it labels him as someone who keeps the crime on
the streets.
The plus to this audiobook was also the narrator, who was awesome in bringing
all the different characters to life with his voice acting. Even if the story
is told from the point of view of the eponymous “Lincoln Lawyer,” there
are plenty of interesting people in this book, and each one certainly has a
different “sound” to them. It’s the attention to these details that
differentiates a narrator just reading a book to you and a voice actor who
can bring the events happening in the words he’s speaking to life.
A great start to an interesting crime drama series, I give The Lincoln Lawyer
4.0 stars out of 5.