Aaaaggggh. I love this series!!! Addicted. Shamelessly.

Nesbø kills me again and again with the turns and suspense and wondering and erroneous guessing—full of red herrings and misguided trails and the layers are as multiple as Greek pastry. There are cleverly dropped clues along the way, but the text is so well thought out you keep guessing till the end—and apparently don’t put it down for sleep. (Aka: another 2am with Nesbø; who needs sleep?)

At the beginning, we aren’t sure where Harry is because of how things ended last time, cos he might be dead but we sure hope he isn’t. Because of his absence, we get insight into the lives of multiple colleagues we’ve grown to love in the other books. And these scenes are super. I love the way the four work together using their unique talents—and such different personalities—the sisterhood between Beate and Katrina is perfect, Bjorne is so adorably awkward, and the sensitive scatterbrained psychologist Arne gets even more focus in this novel—and his family (Ingrid is jokes for breakfast). I love them all to bits.

Nesbø’s villains are despicable creatures of the sickest minds and motives. The trail of dead bodies is piling up for one particular guy and we still haven’t seen Harry figure him out, but the smell under the cement patio is eventually going to become too much for Ula to handle. (Speaking of Ula—Gosh Ula, woman, how are you so forgiving?)

Jo Nesbø writes even his tertiary and foil characters so uniquely diverse, beautiful, complex, with glaring personalities you can see them coming off the page. Amazing. (Probs spelling all their names wrong as I listen to the audiobooks; Robin Sachs was doing a great job, but for this one Good Old John Lee took over and we who know narrated tomes know how good John Lee is with the voices and building atmosphere…)

…on a personal note: THANK YOU for at least some beauty in the midst of tragedy!! I loved that ending!!

Right up until the bit with Aurora… Now I have to go and find the next one asap…cos what’s happening with Aurora?

PS: Why has this not been adapted by Norwegian television yet? I’d love this as a new Scandinavian Noir series… I’m running out of them, Netflix. Get on this please. 

(But tbh even if they do, and I watch them all, books are still always far superior.)

It’s hard to love a depressing and hopeless kind of story, and this is one of those. 

Another problem play here. It is most certainly a pitiable tragedy, but in places appears to have a satirical glimmer. I can’t see it being satire overall and throughout, as the irony is delivered in invective, the sharpest cutting sarcasm, bitter and unforgiving. There is no room for redemption within the story for characters through understanding of the irony—only destruction and hatred for all. The play seems to be warning against … against…? The enticement of wealth? The falsehood of a rich man’s friends? Does the play suggest that all friends of a rich man are not true friends—that they’re either jealous or pandering or contemptuous? And does a rich man need more wisdom in choosing friends than a poor man? The warning that unchecked generosity to one’s friends ends in greed, betrayal and disaster is loud and clear—but then Timon impoverished becomes a deranged misanthropist full of hatred and lacking an ounce of forgiveness. It brings to mind a sharp contrast of character with another entity who is loved when richly generous and hated when poor: God as King of heaven and as Christ on earth. I’m not sure Shakespeare meant the comparison, but it is clear to me that man is portrayed as incapable of responding in endless forgiving generosity the same way God is—because his wealth runs dry if he attempts to over-give pretending himself to be God-like in the power of his riches, and with the waning wealth also ebbs his sense of charity and capacity for unconditional love.

There is great insight as to the play’s ‘moral’ at the centre as delivered by Flavius, Timon’s Chief Servant:

‘O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!

Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,

Since riches point to misery and contempt?

Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live

But in a dream of friendship? 

To have his pomp and all what state compounds

But only painted, like his varnish'd friends?

Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart,

Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood,

When man's worst sin is, he does too much good! 

Who, then, dares to be half so kind again?
For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men.

My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed,

Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes

Are made thy chief afflictions.’

(Highlight mine) For all characters in this play the lesson is heavy: look to God for your bounty, recognise it all comes from him, give as if giving back to God, and don’t let money be the reason for nor barometer in your friendships.

A difficult play to ‘enjoy’ but certainly a warning message needing repeated: Love not wealth nor those who crave it, for such a twisted love will be the destruction of your heart and the deterioration of your soul.

Mm. Didn’t love it, but sure glad I read it.

A cagey protagonist with a damaged past who knows he’s special—he just knows it—no matter how terrible his situation gets. We’re on Matt’s side even as he’s standing over a bloodied victim of his own crime… this story is full of dark magic, clashing secrets, adventure, chills and thrills for preteen boys that girls can enjoy too!

Sweeping… across centuries, galaxies, and species, this sci-fi challenges imperialism and institutions, expressing the cold realities of sexism and racism from positions of power, and explores the damage of greed and the twisted desire for domination that overshadows pure intentions over time. We meet a broad cast of characters to whom we only just get introduced before we are years along and removed from their presence, wondering if they’ll return to the page…

This novel was definitely the introduction to something FAR larger … 

I struggle to see the connection to the AppleTV+ series (it’s minimal so far, and I don’t mean simply about Gaal’s gender being changed), but I have a feeling the complexities are still unfolding for this tome of a story and I just haven’t arrived at its navel.

How many books did Asimov write? Like almost 500? Gosh… I’ll have to do with these seven..

Even so, this is enthralling brainy stuff, the best of sci-fi. (Well, there’s <i>Dune</i>, which is amazing, and which I’m still studying in increments, cos you don’t simply ‘read’ a novel like <i>Dune</i> in one go… but Asimov, for writing this a generation previous to space exploration, was eons ahead of anyone—a foundational father of sci-fi one might say.)

This is a disturbing story. It is reminiscent of a case study—only it’s written with too great a poetic pen to be clinically descriptive or allow for a detachment of emotion. Here, Morrison requires us to engage our emotions. The writing conjures images, sensations, feelings, none of which are healthy or happy, but they make the reader evaluate the social construct of the definition of beauty. It’s not meant to be a healthy happy story. It’s a sad story, a vile story, a warning and an admonishment against him the evils of comparison and the damage that generations of racial degradation continues to propagate, to impose on this current generation, based on the elevation of beauty as measured by appearance, as defined by culturally narrow, egotistic perspectives. Morrison takes a whole novel to teach a lesson about self-respect, the pain and lasting destruction caused by racism and rejection (even self loathing), and the importance of loving, reasonable, two-way communicative adult intervention when children’s ideas are tainted and dangerous.

The writing is poetic, lyrical, but the content is wretched and depraved —with a purpose. It paints a picture of characters that feed and thrive off stereotypes and racism, accepting these as social norms, easily deceived and easily transmitted. It uses stereotypes to tell the story, and this deranged perspective is deranged, incorrect, harmful (read author’s note at the end of the book). It’s an amplified metaphorical prophecy, and like scripture, should be read to see the warning therein.

I feel like there’s a theme to some of my reading already this year: drawing out morals for reflection and application. This one’s—

Observe what the children are doing around you, hear what they are saying, tell every single one of them they are beautiful just as they are, and especially as they are, designed carefully and artistically in love…

This is always a hard story to’ like’ but it’s a worthwhile read by a stellar author.

3-likability (unpalatable content)

4-writing style

4–purpose

This is cheap smut. If you’re into that, you’ll love this novel. I am not. It was entirely unexpected. I was hoping for a continued thickening plot akin to that which the first novel in the series held out and promised...Highly disappointed.

Don’t even care what happens in a third— the last few pages of this one finally bothered to connect to the first book plot—the rest was a Rohypnol-induced crazy train of sexual abuse and the fantasies of a darkly disturbed person.

I listened to the audiobook.

Well. I loved the first 2 books in her other series (Stalking Jack the Ripper)—good entertainment with purposeful plot and fun characters. This is a massive shift to something (un)whole(some)ly other.

Also, 16hrs. I mean, come on… and nary a point to ponder.

Music was distracting and juvenile considering the *adult* (and I mean like adult in the way you pass those  ‘Adults Only’ stops I75) content. I’ve never read Fiddy Shades, but imagine that—then add creepy violins with the woman from the crystal ball room in the Haunted Mansion telling the story. Since I listen on 3x speed, that was a real trip. Was like Curly, Larry and Mo reenacting a star-crossed lovers’ tragedy.

-.-

Unnecessary. A resounding no to music in audiobooks.

16hrs people…. (only 5.5h at my speed, but still, that’s 3+ football matches—a far better expenditure of my time)…

—2hrs of plot development (aka some drippings throughout that lead you to a wow-we-finally-get -to-the-point teaser on the last pages indicating Surprise!—an upcoming third installation. Note to persistent curious readers: if you’re interested in the actual plot from the first novel, which was interesting back then in book one with the culture and the cooking, the crafty Nonna and family dynamics, and the restaurant—begin at the last hour of this racy recording. You won’t miss much.)

—12hrs of cringe-worthy (or laugh-put-loud/gag) good girl (?) premarital (the point is made) “non-sex” (really?) drivel, I can’t even— lengthy descriptions of stuff you’d find in Hugh Hefner’s library. Oh that’s probs not fair to the man. I tried to see the connections with Dante and Milton—cause the intent was there, but then it just stripped itself naked (literally, about 20x) of literary quality and went💥on such a destructive level of self-sabotage it makes Judges 19  look like a Sandra Boynton.

Do not give this book to your teenager. Let them read Dante Alighieri and John Milton for realz—and engage their imagination (imagination not required in this reading) and increase their wisdom rather than knowledge (cause the girl in this book knows a buttload of stuff about the gospel, but she’s colossally unwise when it comes to making choices). 

—1hr of room/clothing descriptions (just described details, and not in the sense they might have something to do with the story like how Anne Brontë tells you about Wildfell Hall to increase the sense of imprisonment Helen experiences, or how Charlotte describes the strange gardens and off-limits corridors of Rochester’s mansion to pique Jane’s curiosity. Nope. Not like that. Just like, the demon named Envy has a lot of green stuff in his house —all shades of green and silver, and naked people laid out with chocolate chips drenched on their ‘apex’ and whipping creme on their—— stuff like that…)

—1hr of orgies with other minor characters/additional bodies, and the seven brothers of hell who all have the same intonation and personality

But sometimes it’s DAMNABLY entertaining to read something of this calibre so you can contemplate what you think is tip-top and what you think is twaddle.

This is a 5-star on the scale of twaddle.

Give your young or newly adult children Milton and Dante, and for heaven’s sake, let them read Frankenstein!!!