octavia_cade's Reviews (2.64k)

I read and reviewed all the comics in here separately, so this is basically just for my own records. They all got three stars from me, so the collected average isn't hard to figure out.

I liked it, but I don't know that I'd read it again. I think it's fair to say that I liked some elements of it more than others - the keys and what they can do, along with the Keyhouse itself, will always be most interesting to me. And I realise that things are likely to turn to custard on a regular basis in a setting like this, though it seems to me that the Lockes are a bit, well, lackadaisical about certain things and that's why life goes so poorly for them so very often. I sympathise, but at the same time a lot of the problems do seem to be self-inflicted. 

I've only just started the original series, and I think I like it better. Bode and Kinsey are more appealing to me so far. 

This is a quick, sad little story about what parents will do for a sickly child to make his end easier. It's more affecting as it goes on, although Ian himself is... I don't want to call him saccharine, exactly, but he feels more like a Dying Child than an actual kid, if that makes sense. 

I admit that I was more interested in the Guide to the Keys, because they're weird, creepy fun - kind of like how Scrooge and his various Ghosts are more interesting than Tiny Tim. 

Again, I feel as if I'm supposed to feel sorry for John, and to a limited extent I did. The one real emotional hit to this mini-series, I think, was when his dad told him that it should have been him who died instead of his mother. That's an awful thing to say, and an awful thing to hear... but it's not actually wrong. It would be a great deal fairer to live in a world where the consequences of our actions fell on us alone, but they don't. We have to live with that, and live with the guilt when our poor choices hurt people other than ourselves, except John can't do that either. So yes, I feel sorry for him... but I feel sorrier for the remnants of his family that are left behind, the ones who have to pick up the pieces after that idiot child smashed it all to smithereens by trying to play soldiers.

This is what comes from letting kids fool around with dangerous shit. I thought that when I read the first story - the giant spider one - collected in The Golden Age and my opinion hasn't changed. I suppose I am blaming John more than I should, and his parents less. Disaster was inevitable. 

The sudden death at the end bumps this up another star for me. I don't usually have a lot of time for fridging, but the family relationships aren't coming back from this and that's a conflict I'm actually interested in. John is a stupid kid, but this is a consequence he doesn't deserve and can never escape. As for the war elements of the story... they're effective, but this story suffers - through not fault of its own - by comparison with the gas warfare scenes from <i>Pretty Deadly</i> which was a five star read from me, if I recall correctly. The art here lacks the vividness of that, and the tragedy of it was muddled a little, I think, by the fantasy elements of the story. They felt like intrusion, which is an apt description considering the intrusion into the Keyhouse that followed.  

Here's the thing: I think, when reading this, that I am intended by the creators to feel sorry for John and the problem is that I don't. Not one bit. I do have some sympathy that, being too young to take part in WW1, he feels as if he's not doing his part and wants to lie about his age to join up. I suspect that happened more than I would like to think that it did, but he goes about it in such a stupid and selfish way! Again, I could pass that off as him being a dumb kid, but in the story previous to this one his young brother died, and this kid doesn't give even the tiniest thought to the fact that he's risking his parents burying yet another son. That's pretty damn heartless if you ask me.

Comeuppance is clearly coming for him, but it can't come fast enough. 

This is sprawling and mythological and bizarre and I want my own copy. A really fantastic mix of scifi and fantasy, set in a future dystopian London - a future dystopian world - where all animals are being exterminated thanks to a religious cult, and social control and disenfranchisement are rife. Enter the protagonist, a filthy, intermittently sane and entirely drug-addled nonagenarian who can talk to animals and thinks his long-dead brother, who drowned as a young child, is a saint of the otters. Cuthbert, in his attempt to free the remaining creatures of London Zoo, is almost and sometimes a saint himself, and is far more often someone you might avoid when walking down the street. He talks to sand cats and is befuddled by penguins and is utterly obsessed with otters, which he thinks are the ultimate representation of the land.

Cuthbert is frankly crackers, the poor old sod. He's also not entirely wrong, and as the animals work on him and through him a sort of green magic returns to England. I read in the back acknowledgements that this book took fourteen years to write - it's Broun's first - and I think it was worth every one of them. It's extraordinary. Very human, too, and hopeful amidst disaster. I love it. 

I thought at first that these were little potted biographies of women writers like Jane Austen and Louisa May Alcott, but they're really not. And that's a good thing, because as biographies they would be wholly inadequate - there's simply not space here to do eighteen separate writers justice. Instead, it's something altogether different. Each graphic section illustrates a small section of the life of the writer in question, often linking it to aspects of her most famous work. In the case of Alcott, for example, the focus is on how writing gave her a way out of her financial struggles (much as it did for Jo in Little Women). In another example, Mary Shelley's grief over the death of her infant daughter ("If only I could bring you back") is shown as an influence on Frankenstein.

It's very clever, but mostly it feels quite atmospheric, as if each section is a little emotional taster of the author and her works. In any case, once I got over the potted-biography idea I thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Quick, basic story that's more repulsive because of the near-four year old picking her nose than it is the giant spider. Giant spiders should be scary, but I didn't like any of the kids enough to care if they were eaten, unfortunately. I did like the cat, though. It's the only sensible animal in the house, I think. 

I smirked a little to myself when adding this to my "alternate history" shelf, because the Cretaceous is certainly that, but then this is more parable than anything else. Dinosaurs and ants working together to create an enormous civilization that can only survive on the contributions of both... until they start squabbling. You would think that the lives of the two are so different that there wouldn't be much overlap to fight about, but then religion comes along and does God look like a dinosaur or an ant? It's a ridiculous argument, but then it's meant to be and humans certainly have their own share of ridiculous disputes.

Of course, despite reconciliation it all turns to custard (it has to, for humans to evolve far enough to take over) and disaster ensues. As a story, it's not especially surprising in its overall arc, but the very tongue-in-cheek approach makes it fun to read, and there's enough of surprise in how each half of this hybrid way of life fucks it up for the other, and for themselves, that the metaphor retains its sense of whimsy and sardonic applicability. 

I love this, and not just because I know the author - I got to know her because I was such a fan of her short fiction (truly, one of the best short story writers working today!) and I enjoyed the novel just as much. What appeals to me most, I think, is the characters. Both Ozoemena and Treasure are such distinct young girls - not always nice, but then I've been fond of variously unpleasant fiction little girls ever since Mary Lennox. I find them deeply entertaining. As I said, they're not always nice, but even in the midst of supernatural dangers and grief for lost family members they're so recognisable as children - playful and spiteful and loyal, squabbling with friends and sisters. 

The setting and the mythological elements and the language are all extremely well done and appealing too, but it's the characters that make this for me. They're just fantastic. 

I've given copies of this book to a number of friends and family (this isn't the first time I've read it, but apparently I didn't log it here before) and they all loved it. You should read it too.