ed_moore's Reviews (345)

Margaret Atwood’s ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ had been on my TBR for far too long, even when it had a resurgence following the passing of Rode vs Wade I didn’t get around to reading it. It’s relevance with the current social context in the US is a stark example of dystopias becoming a reality, whereas in leaving it on my TBR for such a long time and hearing so much about it, I overestimated it and disappointment myself. The story focuses on Offred, a Handmaid living under an authoritarian government in Gilead that enforce strict religion and patriarchal systems, a woman’s role in society being determined by class and fertility. Handmaids serve the role of providing children for infertile upper classes as the population dwindles due to war (which is only mentioned as a background to the novel) and an unexplained reduction in human fertility. Atwood spent a lot of time Worldbuilding or going on off-topic tangents, neither of which I minded too much due to my fascination with dystopian systems, however simultaneously there was lacking elements in the actual plot. I disliked the breakaways where Offred broke the fourth wall and spoke to the reader, despite a system that restricted women for reading and writing, and she is never described to be writing this in secrecy. I won’t go into the ending, but it left the story unexplained and though there is a recent sequel (that I cannot be quoted talking on as I haven’t read it), it came out many years after The Handmaid’s Tale and I have heard doesn’t continue the same story anyhow. Though it has its flaws, the books relevance and the dystopia it establishes is highly commendable, and I think most of my disappointment is due to the long anticipation prior to finally reading this book.

This is another Orwell reread, that alike to 1984 was better than the first time I read it. I also noticed many similarities in allusions and plot I had not before realised, which whilst could be considered lazy writing I recognise to be demonstrative of how alike totalitarian regimes are, 1984’s being associated to right wing totalitarian systems and that of Animal Farm being a commentary on the left wing Russian Revolution and the tyranny of Stalin. Every single character in the book has a purpose, each representing a figure or group in the Russian Revolution, and as does each plot point, which figuring out and looking into the meaning and purpose of them I thoroughly enjoyed. Orwell perfectly highlights the flaws of a communist regime whilst simplifying it onto the setting of a farm, and the slow transformation of the political structure from a Marxist ideal to a communist tyranny, unrecognisable from the system in place prior to the revolution, is perfectly conveyed.  Animal Farm is a perfect representation of communist systems and rightfully regarded one of the greatest dystopians and political critiques.

Oh my goodness. Three months later, after picking up the book in a charity shop knowing nothing about it, I have conquered the longest book I have ever attempted, and now nothing seems daunting anymore. It may have breached over 1000 pages, but each of those pages were so beautifully crafted, held so much plot and told a story that I think will stay with me in a way only a few books ever have. Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo had everything. Scenes of action, heart-wrenching emotion, adventure, romance and thriller came together to create the ultimate slow burn revenge story. I was tracking my thoughts every 10 chapters or so, and by the half way point was admittedly struggling when the character perspective changed, meriting how much I had enjoyed the first third of the novel, but when everything came together it was utterly genius, completely unexpected and so so worth it. Further, that “end of book” feeling I had when I closed this one on the final page had an overwhelming effect given how much of a journey I had been on with Edmond Dantes over the last 3 months. The ending was perfect to the final line, this encapsulating everything that The Count of Monte Cristo was about, all the emotions of its 1000 pages cumulating in the final scene and having a profound effect on oneself. It easily makes my top 5 books I’ve ever read, likely I’d place it at number three. Though daunting, it is 1000% worth giving Dumas a go! 

Paradise Regain’d feels like a situation where Paradise Lost was a bestseller so Milton just titled the next epic “paradise ___” in order to associate them. Whilst it is another bible fan fiction, this one retelling Jesus’ 40 days in the desert, it just didn’t have the same splendour as Paradise Lost, and ultimately is deceiving as at no point in the poem is Eden reclaimed, instead Jesus only resists the temptation of Satan. I can recognise why it isn’t regarded as highly as Paradise Lost, and maybe without such text to live up to, it claiming it’s namesake, it may have appeared better, however in the case of it being a sequel it just felt a little forced and empty.

The Blazing World is one of the weirdest books I have ever read. Cavendish’s philosophical utopia is another world inhabited by bear-men, bird-men, worm-men and more species, each with a particular role in a society defined by the number one. One language, one ruler, one religion. I loved it, it was unlike anything you’d expect to be written in 1666, and is also praised for being a science fiction written by a woman, though despite the gender of The Blazing World’s author and empress, the Utopia is expectedly flawed. Cavendish stages her ideal world as a place where women are exiled to the home, with no such position in society (notice how each species I mentioned is prefaced by ‘men’), in addition to a removal of religions aside from Christianity from her society. She suggests the world to be better without other faiths, and though I myself have no belief, I can recognise that a world with no such religious difference where Cavendish condemns alternate faiths cannot be a Utopia. She also self-inserts herself as a great figure of power within her Utopia, using much of it as a platform to share the results of her scientific experiments, many of which being ultimately proven wrong by our modern development. Aside from this, such results were amusing, the characters of the Utopia were charming, and I had an enjoyable time in Cavendish’s brilliant, if not flawed, Blazing World.

Adichie’s  Americanah is an insight into African immigration to the West, primarily looking at the Nigerian experience in the USA but also touching on an alternative experience in England. The perspective was interesting to become immersed in, Adichie commenting on issues of racism, though never an explicit racism and rather the unconscious racism of the everyday and an American ignorance, such as speaking to foreign people slowly as if they are a lesser individual than oneself to highlight an example. It is also structured to incorporate the protagonist Ifemelu’s blog posts, allowing Adichie to more easily insert her political voice. For the most part Americanah was a good read, whereas in the final third of the book I begun to find the flaws of the protagonist tiresome and infuriating, retracting from the main purposes of the novel and creating a dislikability that I do not believe was intentional. The frequency of relationships made me associate the latter half of the novel with Defoe’s Roxana, and whilst Adiche did a much better job than Defoe at developing relationships and giving them a purpose, I despised Roxana and the association I made to it detracted from my experience with Americanah. I feel in this aspect of the novel, there was too much, whereas it is also the only aspect in which I can highlight a significant flaw. Otherwise, Americanah was a fascinating read, Adichie’s writing is easy to pick up, and perhaps in my dislike of one aspect I have made it sound worse than is the case. 

I’m sure most have read Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, though for my own reference it follows The Bennett family as Mrs Bennett seeks marriage for her five daughters. This is the sole concerns of the plot, largely focused on wealth and marriage of an upper class family during the regency period of Britain. The only previous thing I have read that I kept associating Pride and Prejudice to was Sheridan’s play ‘School for Scandal’ of which focuses on the same aristocratic concerns, though the play is purportedly satirical. Austen achieves this insight into the shallowness of upper class life without any attempt to be make a mockery of it. I don’t believe this was her intentions, therefore take that insight of mine as a positive or negative as you please. I did appreciate Austen’s chapter lengths and the skill of her prose, making the novel pleasant to read and easy to pick up, however I found the characters difficult to associate with and connect to, each giving very similar personalities to one another and weighed down by extremely privileged problems. I believe that Mr Darcy was the only distinct character, and therefore was glad for his involvement in the plot. He is demonised by the other characters throughout however, which I struggle to see justification for other than perhaps that he did not conform to the natures of the rest of his class, hence resulting my controversial appeal toward him, and also his negative portrayal. Ultimately, while the plot was solely dependent on the characters, and the characters themselves was limited, I can still appreciate the novel for the beauty of Austen’s writing, whereas struggle to see why it is regarded as highly as it is among classics. 

Hag-Seed portrays itself as a retelling of Shakespeare’s ‘The Tempest’, though I would debate this. It is more a play within a book, that play just happening to be the Tempest. Otherwise, the characters can somewhat be associated with those of Shakespeare’s play, the protagonist Felix seemingly supposed to represent Prospero, whereas this isn’t a glaringly obvious comparison, especially with other characters in Atwood’s retelling. This, however, did not take away from the enjoyment of the book. Standing alone, it is an unconventional tale of revenge, with exploration of themes of loss, grief, mental state and redemption. My gripe with the book would be the extent to which the prisoners whom act in Felix’s Tempest are stock characters and conform to stereotypes, though this can be overlooked. 

First published in 1602, Dr Faustus is a play that warns that the punishment for sin is always greater than the perceived benefit. It follows a power hungry Dr Faustus of whom exchanges his soul with the devil for 24 years of absolute power, encountering demons and showing off his magic along the way. To a period audience, the play is supposed to be a moral lesson, whereas to a modern, non-religious reader it felt uninspiring and lacking of anything to progress the plot, seemingly moving too quickly between the granting of power and the subsequent punishment. This punishment of which was nothing more than I initially agreed anyhow, it shouldn’t take any audience nor character by surprise, and due to both the parameters set out at the start of the play and it’s historical context, the plot was entirely expected.

Llosa wrote Death in the Andes in 1993, it being his play on a detective story, the setting in Narccos, Peru. The book explores the disappearances of three outsiders, a mute, albino, and outsourced foreman. Emphasis is also placed on the xenophobic violence of the Terrucos, a communist terrorist organisation that controlled regions of the Andes. My intrigue toward extremist politics of countries and political criticism resulted in much individual interest to such plot line and criticisms towards Peru’s governmental system portrayed in the text. Llosa also explores ideas of spiritualism within remote communities, creating two narratives running alongside one another, of the current politics and past folklore. These two plot lines were of great interest, whereas the sole element that retracted from the book was the integration of such plot lines, in addition to further sub-plots, with one another. I often felt lost for a page or two when the focus of the chapter changed, this not often being particularly clear and retracting from my ability to immerse myself in the story. Despite this, the themes and construction of Death in the Andes were very much to my taste and I enjoyed my journey with the text.