Reading these the second time is amazing. I love going back and seeing just how complex all the intricate details of the whole story are as they come together in each separate novel.

We learn more mysteries about Hogwarts and it piques our interest and desire to discover additional secrets, friendships and rivalries are strengthened, our love for Quidditch explored, and our understanding grows of just how dark things are going to get before it’s all over.

Definitely worth this revisit.

J’ai toujours crois que les romans écrit sur un sujet si fragile sont plus difficile à lire, mais tellement importante pour entendre les gens qui souffrirent des problèmes comme l’anorexie ou les autres infirmités mental. Ce roman nous donne l’histoire d’une jeune et son expérience vers la récupération. Pas un plaisir à lire mais il nous aide à sympathiser…et un bon fin. Il nous donne l’espoir.

What a load of crap. For at least 97% of the novel. Who cares about the lives of this shallow cast of self-absorbed group of faux-celebrities? Oh, maybe we care about Nina after a while, but so very late in the novel. And Kit. Turine? Casey? Maybe near the end? But briefly—between the tabloid snapshots of the who-cares lives of the ‘rich and famous’ physically flawless magazine cutouts of 2-dimensional sex-crazed, unfaithful, cliché characters presented to us in rushed tableaux. The pages are so full of name-dropping and excessively rich narcissists mistaking sex for love and lengthy descriptions of people’s plastic-perfect features and designer clothing and mentioning a song or a hairdo in place of creating any real sense of setting…ugh.

The total chaos at the party was funny—though not likely meant to be (felt more like a judgement on these shallow people by this point)—and you could see there was an attempt at making a social-moral statement. Ish. But gosh. What a lot of senseless rubbish. And maybe that was the whole idea. Cos when you think of it, it’s exactly what that scene and the sick desire to be involved in that scene is all about. How pathetic. How supremely sad… (Yes. Reader acknowledges agreement with moral judgement being made by author. Reader would have preferred/enjoyed a story about Nina escaping this whole scene and finding self in the freedoms of sunshine.)

Of course, it all burns to hell at the end with a colossal show of cosmic justice and redemption, but we know this from page one (a la Little Fires Everywhere, though not quite addressing the socially challenging plot and complex characters of that novel). And in the burning, there’s a kind of clearing refreshment given to the landscape. Supposedly. ‘[R]enewal rising from the ashes. The story of fire.’ Okay. Thanks.

Someone compared this to The Great Gatsby, but it would need to be well-written with inspiring phrasing and beautiful words…hmm. The best I can say for this debacle is that it ended fairly well, though I’m glad it’s over.

Despite stomach-turning surgical procedures (though highly educational) and some overly intimate scenes (often wittily entertaining), the stories woven into this one long epic addition to one long epic story have me hooked. The history is absorbing, the science and medicine continually enlightening, but for me it’s the characters that have the greatest pull. Don’t want the adventure to end…

What if… some of this is real and some of it is an elaborate alter-ego delusion designed as a shield—or… or the progressive letting go of a ghost of someone who once was…? 

Inti wraps herself up so much in her work that the work has more value than the people it’s meant to save. But her relationships with the people in her life she’s been most meant to trust never properly formed. Ever. Not from the start. It’s only through the coming together of the details of her work and their ultimate purpose that she discovers the importance (and possibility) of healthy relationships, that she might be able to let go of preserving self and receive love, that she might be able to trust someone other than herself and her sister/ memory-of-Aggie/ invented alter-ego…

I just thought that maybe some of the characters here aren’t real, but serve a more psychological purpose in the unfolding of the narrative.

And then again, maybe it’s all to be taken exactly as is at face-value.

Made me wonder though… and in wondering, in the unfolding of the trauma, other possible explanations became apparent/conceivable.

I liked the redemption journey despite some aggressive and shocking turns along the way.

This one was the best so far for both plot and character development. The writing is good, intelligent, and the plot is complex. Finally, something more from Lady Lydia—albeit between the lines. I end up liking her over the course of the story, and that’s a plus. Only took 5 books to get there!

The writing is smart and informed, again dealing with an issue that would have been very current socially in the 18th century.

It’s historically intriguing with even more insight into characters we’ve come to appreciate, and it was a satisfying end, but I’m not sorry to be done with this series—time to be over. It was fun while it lasted.

Good finale.

Sped through this. Started delightfully. Characters were funny and smart, and of course, typically fitting into the Henry stereotypes we’ve come to expect (and love, even in all their predictability), but then… about three-quarters in, I got disappointed.

Not saying I didn’t like the novel. I liked it. It had many redeeming qualities and a cute, predictably satisfying ending. But I didn’t love it the same as I loved Henry’s other works in the genre. I feel (maybe I’m wrong) that she gave in to the pressure to slip into the smutty gutter—even if it was only a dip and dive and not a complete roll around in the muck. Not entirely. But still... It was an excessive bit too much and pillaged the story of some of its romantic charm.

Though darker themed than her previous works, this one is all the whiplash comedic banter and idealistic romance of an Emily Henry that you ordered, with an additional side of cheap trash you get for free (whether you want it or not). I mean, some love that trash, and sure, why not? I mean, she even references Bridgerton—and that’s a huge hit. And I read Gabaldon, so I’m hardly criticising the inclusion of the hot-and-heavy. I just wasn’t expecting this amount of sleazy smut in a feel-good Henry romcom.

Kept me laughing and reading till I finished, even if some of it also made me cringe and roll my eyes. I didn’t expect Henry to get so sexplicit. Of course, the banter and dialogue are witty, as always—and laugh-out-loud in many parts—but this one fell into the dirty ditch where several cheaper novels of the genre have stacked their pillows.

I will still read everything Emily Henry writes. Just because I didn’t give this one a five (as with her other two in this genre—and my review feels so negative!—but that has more to do with my own expectations than anything else) it doesn’t mean this was not good. This was so good. I just wanted it to be romcom-defining  <i>perfection</i> like everything else she’s written. I’ve become accustomed to that kind of nonchalant perfection from her…

I bought it. I’ll read it again.

***

I think I was more disappointed with this one because of my expectations. I don’t know. I feel like it just fell short. I just read people we meet on vacation, though. Still fresh in mind. I loved the sister and the nieces dynamic. There were a lot of things I loved about it sure—and still love her writing style. I can’t criticise a sex scene. Frig I love outlander and there’s plenty—but I don’t know …there was something… missing… from this one. I added a paragraph to my review. May still change it after a think…

Friggin’ epic…

And now I’m hooked.

I’ll have to read the series.

Definitely couldn’t stop reading till the end. A startling thriller and well-paced chapters with timely reveals. There are so many threads in the complex plot pattern that something is bound to be left untied by the end. Only, it was that complex I’ve reflected and can’t think what’s been left undone. Most of the loose ends were either explained or addressed in some way—even if the explanation was that a certain thread was a mere distraction to the real unfolding mystery.

There was such an absolute psychotic feel to most of these characters that it stretched the imagination just a margin over the line of credibility. Not that any of this is believable, but you’re meant to believe it, so at least it needs to maintain some plausibility…

Kept me guessing till the end, and for that it was a success at being both mystery and thriller. And the end is not what you’re expecting, so it’s a winner for that twist.

Life in the 18th century was grim, man. No holds barred from this storyteller. Things go from bad to awful to horrendous to wtf-did-these-people-have-to-live-for-anyway? The thin thread of romance these stories have running through them is fraying. While the actual historical events references are fascinating, the relationship between Lydia and Thomas is becoming a bit over-tried. I get the ideas, but the execution lacks the je ne sait quoi that makes such clandestine forbidden loves of the mid-1700s so appealing. They’ve faced trial after trial piled on something that was perhaps a bit flighty to start off with. I kept waiting for Lydia to have reason to believe the one man and not the other when Thomas was the one who had the trustworthy character throughout—and yet... it makes her look fickle and unintelligent, which is maybe what the author was aiming for here, but definitely not the picture we had of her in the first novels. Though, she has proven to make rash and hasty decisions in the past. I wanted increased backbone from her, not a disintegration. She was showing it before, and then it all collapsed like a flimsy card house. I suppose getting thrown in Bedlam didn’t help…

I like following Thomas around as he stumbles on dead bodies and helps people with his doctor’s expertise and cuts up and dissects body parts. His blind mentor is a dang good character, too. So is the Oxford Coroner, who’s the original father-figure to Lady Farrell (honest, don’t know why she didn’t stick with this one when she knew the other was a sneaky bastard already—silly woman). There are some real grandpa-gems in these stories. And in the context of the medical knowledge of the day, all these doctor-types are such captivating speakers throughout the stories. The way Dr Silkstone assists in solving the crimes with forensic evidence is interesting and I like the addition of court procedurals. I almost want to say if this was what we were following, and if Lydia was only a good friend with future potential up to now (not yet explored and consummated) —well, I don’t know, but it might have been a better foundation for their interest and commitment. The stories would be just as good (maybe better) without the restrained ‘romance’ on the side.

Still, the cases presented are interesting and as they’re based on actual events from history, even more appealing.

I’m heading to the last (as far as I know) in this series, and it better not end the same way the last few have ended abruptly on cliffhanger heart-stoppers.