Oh, goodreads, why do you let a few people keep the rest of us from having half stars. By rights, Heartless should get 3.5/5 or 6/10 stars. As it is, because I like the series & goodreads is lame, I’m giving it 4. In this latest addition, we see a lot more of the same. The primary plot is nowhere near as interesting as some of the things we learn about our primary and supporting characters. Some of them have pasts much deeper and more complicated than we previously knew. We also learn more about Alexia’s father. Naturally, these are the tamer aspects, but, you know…spoilers! Regardless of the ways this book went flat, I definitely am looking forward to the release in March of the next in the series.
Tag Archives: infant inconveniences
I don’t know quite how I would explain why I love Gail Carriger‘s Parasol Protectorate series so much, but I really do. While not so good as the others, Blameless has that same mixture of wit and “d’aww” reaction that I enjoyed in the previous books. As always, Alexia is involved in crazy adventures and Conall rages about wildly. Well, that isn’t all, but it does take up a fair amount. Basically, I continue to recommend these books to those who like Regency romances, even though these are set in Victorian times, as well as those who like light urban fantasy. There’s a little something for everyone here. For me, it’s on to Heartless! (Oh yes, ladybugs and pesto both play major roles in this. What’s not to love?)
The Unit is the saddest piece of dystopian fiction I have ever read. Normally the genre leaves me angry or frightened or feeling the need for a good shower, but this made me feel heartbroken. The Unit is a place where women who have reached the age of 50 and men who have reached the age of 60 without having children are sent to live in order to participate in “humane” experiments and act as organ donors for the so-called needed. These people are known as dispensable.
After enjoying Oryx and Crake so much, I had high expectations of The Handmaid’s Tale. They were largely fulfilled. Margaret Atwood weaves a horrifying image of a society in which religious fundamentalism and fear of Caucasian infertility are taken to their furthest extremities. The rights of women are a particular area of focus. While reading this book, I began to think about the similarities between it and The Children of Men. Both deal with the concept of infertility and a totalitarian, terrorizing state. Additionally, both are written by women and were released within a small time span. Based on this, I am planning to write a piece comparing and contrasting the two books. Obviously, this is truly a thought-provoking work.
The Children of Men is having a much deeper impact on me than I anticipated. It isn’t just an apocalyptic sci fi novel. It strikes deep to the root of what I feel is one of the most common and profound fears we have as people–extinction. And not just extinction by comet, asteroid, alien invaders or even disease. Extinction by the betrayal of our bodies. The inability to procreate, to pass along our genetic code. The barren woman has been pitied or looked upon as shameful from the earliest of our myths and religions. Fatherhood and motherhood have both been honored, albeit in different ways. People take so much pride in those little beings they “create.” The idea that it’s mostly outside of our control, let alone that it could someday become impossible is terrifying. Even as one who does not wish to have children I feel that chill.