Ellery Lloyd’s The Club is equal parts forgettable murder mystery and entirely engrossing distraction. Very fancy private club for the richest celebrities – there’s blackmail, murder attempts, hidden identities, adoptions gone wrong. All the best things you might hope from a soap opera among the rich and famous. I can’t say the book does much to explore deep themes (maybe you could stretch at something about women’s autonomy or objectification or power), and probably that is fine for what it is. A glossy magazine turned novel. A novel destined to be adapted for HBO. So enjoy it as an audiobook, or on a beach, or on a rainy Saturday morning (while your kids tear your house apart and the book lets you absolutely ignore the chaos: a true gift).
Category Archives: Book I’ll Forget I Read
The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus: Not Memorable, but Also Fine
I read Emma Knight’s The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus in nearly one sitting, which is a good thing because the characters are so pleasant as to be extremely forgettable, and the plot – which couched as mystery/romance/wealthy-people-doing-rich-things should have been captivating – was slow to engage.
(On the forgettable characters: the first 20 odd pages were almost impossible for me to sort out as characters get introduced every six sentences, each with something (apparently) unique for the reader to try to latch on to, but let me tell you, just telling me a character is ‘quirky’ does not a memorable character make. So either make yourself a little chart or trust me that it really doesn’t matter if you know who Fergus or Charlie are because they are both unimportant and underdeveloped).
Our protagonist, Pen, is tackling a few things: what happened that ruptured her parents’ marriage? Is sex really all that people say it is (and when should you have it? with who? for what reason?)? what ties families together if not only blood?
Mostly these questions turn out to have fairly straightforward and boring answers: parents marriage: infidelity (isn’t it always); sex: it depends and whatever you want to do or not do is great as long as you’re consenting and choosing; family: family can be about blood relationships, but that is always an insufficient condition for Family, and family doesn’t have to be about blood relationships. There’s a vehn diagram in there for chosen family for sure.
The fun parts are descriptions of the big Scottish estate where most of the plot unfolds. Lots of misty walks through overgrown gardens.
And the best part for me were the moments where friendship is (lightly) explored. Pen’s best friend Alice is with her and has been her best friend since forever. This kind of friendship is held up as some kind of unassailable fortress of knowing-and-being-known. As if the sheer length of time they have been friends is proof of the power of that trust. And here I quibble. I do dearly love the friends I have been friends with for a long, long time (I see you S. and C. and J. and J.) and yes, there’s something to be said for a person who has chosen you to be around for years and years (something quite different from a sibling who often has no choice or a partner who chooses you for a different kind of love and usually well after your identity has solidified). But Pen and Alice seem to think that length of friendship alone is sufficient justification for depth. And maybe that’s true? I don’t know, I’m not sure it is, but perhaps the real complaint is that the book makes no effort to complicate or question this – instead just: Old Friends Always Friends.
Anyway, I wouldn’t bother with this one, but you do you.
Filed under Bestseller, Book I'll Forget I Read, Fiction
Onyx Storm: Extremely Silly
I don’t have much to say on Rebecca Yarros’ Onyx Storm other than it is an extremely silly, while also delightfully distracting dragon romance. Should you find yourself in need of temporary reprieve from the nonsense of every day life you could do worse than the nonsense of Xaden and Violet.
A few observations: I thought this was the final book in the series for some reason and so was – as I now understand many readers were – surprised (and annoyed) when the ending was a cliffhanger (AND to learn the next instalment hasn’t yet been written: how am I to live with such uncertainty. How.). So if you’re expecting some kind of resolution… don’t bother. Wait til book four is out and read them both then. Assuming, I guess, that book four is it.
Also: It had been a minute since I read book 2 and honestly? I could remember very little from the plot of book 2 and so spent the first 100 odd pages of Onyx Storm trying to remember who was who, and what the geography was, and what exactly was going on. Could it have benefited from a tiny recap? Maybe. So if you’re like me and not Deeply Steeped in the dragon romance world, you might consider reading a teeny summary of book 2 before you embark on 3.
Also: Xaden’s jaw is entirely too tense. So. Many. Descriptions. of his jaw ticking. And his tongue flicking. Like time for a quick trip to thesaurus.
As I – blush – preordered this one and now have a copy I will absolutely never read again, let me know if you want my copy and I’ll send it your way. And you will also, I’m sure, both enjoy it and find yourself deeply embarrassed by your enjoyment.
Filed under Book I'll Forget I Read, Fiction
The Rachel Incident: Friendship (and bodies)
I’ve never been a casual friend. Ask them and they’ll tell you I am a friend of intensity. If you are wondering what a friend of intensity is, I recommend you to Caroline O’Donoghue’s The Rachel Incident where you’ll follow Rachel and James (and then another James) through a period of Great Friendship Intensity. When Rachel and James meet it isn’t immediately obvious they will be lifelong friends, but then it happens they live together and the interweaving of lives takes over.
I think the heart of this book wants to be about reproductive rights (in Ireland, or wherever, maybe), power in relationships, secrecy and sexual identity, and bodies. But while the thematic heart might want to be that – maybe to be Big and Important – I think in the end this is a book about friendship. About how friendships may form through routine and proximity, but are made lasting through crisis or vulnerability or revelation. That you can maintain a not-so-intense friendship for decades just by playing on the same trivia team, but all it takes is one night of heart opening to make the person BFF (and yes, I’m aware this is the argument Brene Brown and her adherents are forever reminding me). Of course in The Rachel Incident this theory is tested by betrayal, by distance, by loss – and continues to make the argument that when you know someone and let yourself be known, these can all be overcome.
In the end it’s not a book that really sticks with me, and I didn’t find myself much moved by any of it, but it did remind me of all my forever friends and how they came to be that through the outrageous courage of saying here I am as all of me. Or sometimes through my relentless refusal to leave them alone. Perhaps there could be a rewrite of this one where vulnerability is replaced with persistence. Either way – it’s a gentle, light and engaging read, if not entirely memorable.
Filed under Book I'll Forget I Read, Fiction
Literary Vice 