postmodernblues's Reviews (465)

Spoilers, probably, but I didn't make it that far anyways- I love Orwell (actually, I wouldn't say I love him, but I am fascinated by his work), and when I picked this book up I was hoping it was going to incorporate him into the story in an interesting way. But good lord, I cannot read another page of it. I don't know if it gets better, and frankly, I really don't care. I was really hoping this book would have something interesting to say about Orwell, about his history, about his work, about his politics, anything, but up until the point where I stopped, it was just passages of essentially mansplaining the plot of 1984. The whole reason Orwell is even important is because Ray, our protagonist, is totally obsessed with him. The reason for THAT is confusing, too, because it seemed to me as though Ray completely misinterpreted the themes of Orwell's book and became a big-time marketing executive who is painfully unlikable. Don't get me wrong, unlikable characters are great and absolutely have a place in literature. But only if you do it right. Additionally, I cannot take another whiskey-drinking scene. He's an asshole, he loves Orwell, he drinks whiskey a lot. Got it. I'm not necessarily angry at this book for being bad, but I am angry that it had so many interesting ideas, but it really seems like it has absolutely nothing to say and yet believes itself to be profound. 

To conclude, I'll leave you with a quote that I believe encapsulates the unfunny writing that seems to consider itself hysterical:

"Sometimes after work he would hit the bars with some coworkers or go on the occasional date and bring a girl home to make sweat angels in the bedsheets"

Sweat. Angels. 

I can't.

"Grab your friends.... and hold 'em close.... 'cause we got no time for heroes.... and no room for ghosts..."

I believe Gerard Way's work on The Umbrella Academy comics is undeniably brilliant, but this is where his ideas really, really shine. C'mon, kid, put on your mask. Lace up your boots. Let's forget for awhile about the world outside the desert. 

I swear to god this comic has had me in a chokehold since day one.

I haven't stopped thinking about this book since I read it last year.

I read this in eighth grade and I have never been the same.

""'Tis now dead midnight," Richard said. He sat in the largest armchair like it was a throne, long legs outstretched, feet propped up on the grate. Three years of playing kings and conquerers had taught him to sit that way in every chair, onstage or off."

The inclusion of this detail at the beginning absolutely sold me the first time I read this book. I don't care if it's is wayyy oversaturated in the book corners of various mind-numbing social media. I absolutely love it. 

I feel like a lot of people who dislike or outright hate this book do not quite understand its horror. It isn't meant to be a twisty, mysterious story about a goodhearted, charismatic heroine taking on the evils of new age Silicon Valley corporate culture. It is about cult tactics, about how one person can delude themself into believing that a workplace is a family, and the subsequent downward spiral into becoming completely cut off from anything outside of work. 

It's certainly not perfect, and it isn't always subtle. But it is very easy to misinterpret or write off as 'preachy'.

And anyway, the movie is a fucking trash fire. The movie sanitizes the horror entirely and makes it into a "protagonist-saves-the-day" moment when it really isn't supposed to be.