This book is...interesting and intense. Basically, Eco uses the lens of a murder mystery to explore the controversy surrounding the birth of the Franciscan monastic order, Pope John XII, and Emperor Louis the Bavarian. The abbey becomes a microcosm of the 1327 European political world and through these mere 500 pages the reader gets it all. It's a heady experience, particularly since it interacts with my own religious history, and masterfully and fluidly penned. And the writing: at times dense, but ultimately very clever and smooth. I respected and really cared for William and Adso, eagerly following their arguments and investigations. I can see why THE NAME OF THE ROSE is considered a medieval historical fiction classic, and it fully deserves to be called so.

Despite the amazingness though, I had quibbles. While a huge point in the story was how academia and scholarly argumentation can shrivel compassion, joy, and love, I found myself wanting an ever firmer, lived refutation of this point in the lives and choices of William and Adso. While the nature of setting made the character sausage fest inevitable, I was VERY annoyed that the only female character was not named, consistently referred to in non-human terms (creature, flesh, animal), treated like a sex object, and, when she was threatened, no attempt was made at saving her. While a few LGBT characters were present, literally all of them died and ye olde Catholic sodomy condemned over and over and over. This homophobia and sexism kept me from giving the book a 5 star rating. On the plus side, the character descriptions didn't touch on color much, so I was free to imagine as varied skin tones as I liked.

All and all, though, if you like medieval historical fiction that's heavy on the history, I would highly, highly recommend.

An amazing tribute to science fiction shows everywhere, at once a love letter and a critique. No character is left behind; no one is an extra in a book about being an extra, and the story is poignant as poignant can be. I laughed a lot and I cried a little. I'm very curious as to Scalzi's other books and shall now have to beam down and investigate!

This book.... Wowser.

There are already beautiful reviews of this book out there, and I'll just add what struck me most.

First, the detached, almost dream-like tone. It was definitely not what I was expecting from a historical fiction, but Mantel pulls it off to marvelous effect. I would have nominated WOLF HALL for the Booker on that alone, since it's such a bold move for the genre.

Second, the treatment of Thomas More. It's amazing and masterful; a complete coup; an utter refutation of all his praises. If this book is ever sassily re-titled, I'd suggest "Suck it, More."

I'm very eager to pick up BRING UP THE BODIES and look forward to Mantel's final book in the trilogy. If you like Tudor history at all, I heartily, heartily recommend.

Much like it's predecessor, this book is astounding. It's beautifully written and breaks genre in the most wonderful of ways. While BRING UP THE BODIES is more plot-focused than WOLF HALL, the lovely dream-like detachment of the first novel is still ever-present and engrossing. The little details about daily life, particularly the descriptions of the weather, food, and Christmas celebrations, added much-needed bright spots in a very dark book. I thought the style and details were even more important in this book, because it carried me through the latter half of the novel, which focused on the Boleyn's downfall.

This book seriously made me reconsider ever wanting to time travel to Henry VIII's England. During this second half, Thomas Cromwell wades through the black goop of human corruption, manipulation, misogyny, ambition, greed, and hypocrisy. While more sympathetic or morally good characters are introduced in the beginning (ex: Jane Seymour, Chapuys, Katherine, Cromwell's family), they fade from the story to the point where the only character with any sort of moral goodness is the womanizing George Boleyn, who seems to honestly care for his sister's happiness. It left a sick taste in my mouth. It made me wonder about the point/use of ambition. What's the use of commanding a country if you must damn all love, kindness, and human tenderness? *shudders* So awful.

Be that as it may, I eagerly await the next book and recommend the first two to any historical fiction fans out there. Read on!

Reading this story was an interesting exercise in timing and circumstance for me. I knew nothing about the Lapérouse expedition going in besides that it was doomed, which kept me from wanting to connect to any of the characters. I was looking for a reason to get an Audible account and this seemed like as good as any, but the sound of so many French names and similar personalities clustered together addled my California Spanglish brain. The treatment of the natives was at times stereotypical, which normally would have only elicited a pained sigh, but I read the book during Indigenous Peoples Day. Overall, I didn't approach the book with a mindset ready for a Game of Thrones level of characters and death, and that snarled up my reading experience considerably.

I can see how this book's gotten so much attention and praise though. Williams' dizzy amount of research shines bright, and she is rigorous and thorough in deploying details. Her ruthlessness extends to characters too: she delves into each character's mind determined to unearth pearls, will them or nil them. The effect sometimes has a wandering diver feel, making me wish we be spared a particular agony in favor of furthering the plot. I also question some of the suggested universalities of humanity: do women REALLY offer themselves at every port, do ALL the men really desire women at every moment, do ALL natives, no matter what island, think white people sail on clouds and/or are gods, did LITERALLY EVERYONE actually think those brothers were charming, is EVERY naturalist all about their ego and reputation 24/7, was it REALLY the highlight of everybody's year that a bunch of French sailors showed up and asked for plant samples?

Don't get me wrong. Beautifully, lovingly written, Landfalls deserves every star and happy reviewer. Williams' use of the lens of landfalls was masterful, and I immensely enjoyed playing detective sifting through the conflicting accounts of different events. I'd keep half an eye on this author and see if anything more washes ashore.