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alobearThere have been two books I've picked up this month but not been able to finish, which has been a rare occurrence so far this year!
I'm not blaming either book for this, as I thought both were well-written and interesting - just not what I wanted to be reading in the last couple of weeks.
The Vizard Mask by Diana Norman tells the story of Penitence Hurd, who flees America in 1664 to seek out her aunt in London. Unfortunately, this is also the summer of the plague in London, and that's why I couldn't read it. The writing was very evocative, I liked the characters, and I was interested to find out what would happen. But the quarantines and daily posting of mortality rates, as well as the discussions about whether or not those in charge were dealing with the crisis effectively, were just too much at this moment in time. With a global pandemic raging, escapist reading this was very definitely not...
I've been trying to find good fantasy romance books to buy my mum for Christmas and decided I should read a few myself to test them out. Little, Big by John Crowley seemed very highly recommended on the interwebs so I decided to give it a go. It's about a house hidden in the countryside, which is made up of lots of different styles of house all melded together, and may or may not be magical in some way. The book tells the story of several generations of the people closely connected to the house, and it did have some appeal. But it's told in a very fairytale style, which makes it meandering, vague and remote in some ways. And it just didn't work for me at the moment. I wanted something more concrete that I could grab hold of and be drawn into, and this book seemed to be pushing me away rather than drawing me in.
I'm not blaming either book for this, as I thought both were well-written and interesting - just not what I wanted to be reading in the last couple of weeks.
The Vizard Mask by Diana Norman tells the story of Penitence Hurd, who flees America in 1664 to seek out her aunt in London. Unfortunately, this is also the summer of the plague in London, and that's why I couldn't read it. The writing was very evocative, I liked the characters, and I was interested to find out what would happen. But the quarantines and daily posting of mortality rates, as well as the discussions about whether or not those in charge were dealing with the crisis effectively, were just too much at this moment in time. With a global pandemic raging, escapist reading this was very definitely not...
I've been trying to find good fantasy romance books to buy my mum for Christmas and decided I should read a few myself to test them out. Little, Big by John Crowley seemed very highly recommended on the interwebs so I decided to give it a go. It's about a house hidden in the countryside, which is made up of lots of different styles of house all melded together, and may or may not be magical in some way. The book tells the story of several generations of the people closely connected to the house, and it did have some appeal. But it's told in a very fairytale style, which makes it meandering, vague and remote in some ways. And it just didn't work for me at the moment. I wanted something more concrete that I could grab hold of and be drawn into, and this book seemed to be pushing me away rather than drawing me in.
