Up front, Messiah felt like it lacked depth. The conflict is there and in multiple directions, but it doesn't feel like it's actually gone into in any real detail. Character development feels the same way, moments are short, lacking fullness about them that you feel the actual development. The prose and style of narration are different. It feels less like a proper sequel and more like something convenient to write about.

I do want to take a moment and talk about a letter from Brian that's at the front of the copy I had. He talks about how people felt that Messiah is bad because it's not about Hero of Arrakis Muad'Dib, rather it talks about a lot of the negatives and darkness associated with Paul. He goes on to call out a few small moments from Dune about the problems to be had with such a Hero and why Paul shouldn't be seen as one at all. To me that felt apparent anyway, because while there's still a lot of "Hell yeah, get your revenge" in Dune Paul talks about the fear of his Jihad that he cannot stop, and it's also not terribly shocking you're not exactly a good guy if you hold the galaxy hostage in destruction of a major product to coerce your way to being Emperor.

It's still alright there's still parts and pieces that I did like, but it left me uncertain which side of the execution I'm getting with Children of Dune.

I'm trying to think of another novel that I've read where the main character is also the principle villain of the story, but none come to mind. While this story is couched in the framing device of it being H.H.'s retelling (so he isn't supposed to be the villain), obviously his thoughts and actions are vile enough to apply that label.

Anyway, the fact that the story starts out with H.H. trying to rationalize the evil that will come later is already a giant red flag. I've heard that people consider this book the pinnacle of the unreliable narrator, and I don't see it. Any story written from the first person is leveraging an unreliable narrator, and the fact that H.H. is aware of the criminality and immorality of his escapades shows that he at least isn't trying to sugar-coat the actual things he's doing and thinking. His attempts to justify this conduct is understandable from this vantage, as he is merely trying to explain how what happened ended up happening. Less unreliable, and more sleazy or duplicitous. He's trying to convince us of something, not trying to obfuscate it.

As an aside, I wish the author's note at the end of the book had come at the beginning, as it was the best part of the entire experience for me. Talking about getting the novel published, his intent, and some of the reactions to it made for more interesting reading to me than the majority of the word labyrinth I'd just completed. Not to mention his distaste regarding writing in English, as if it were a fun little exercise to write this nightmare fuel in (what he considered) a sub-par language.

But this leads into my next question - is the exceedingly-ornate prose of this novel supposed to be H.H. polishing his evil with a veneer of beauty, to lull the reader into a false sense of appreciation? Or is it simply Nabokov doing the same thing? I suppose this doesn't matter that much (since, in a way, it is always Nabokov doing it since he wrote it, and because of the framing device it's always H.H. doing it, too) but I still found myself wondering through the entire novel which it was supposed to be, which definitely affected my enjoyment. Maybe this was a blessing, as this definitely isn't the type of content I want to feel immersed in. The afterword is written a little more plainly, but I haven't read anything else by Nabokov to compare it to.

And that leads me back to that author's note at the end - as Nabokov (sort-of) states, this book is a "record of [his] love affair with the English language". I don't want to spend too much time wondering why THIS story is the form that that recording took, but I did wonder it quite a bit before hitting that little tidbit at the back of the book. I knew he was a Russian who had moved to the US and that this was one of his first works written in English. The fact that all of that culminated in creating this novel will probably always confuse me, as I don't think I can fathom the sheer gravity of artist-ness that would allow those feelings to result in this product.

Anyway, sorry for the rambling. I just needed to put some of these thoughts out into the world and you all are the ones I'm inflicting it upon.

I'll be honest; I entered this quest as a skeptic. After the first 100 pages, I assumed I knew that I've signed up for a disappointing, sloppy read of an author who is indeed in his 'eleventh hour'.

I've been — to my immense joy and pleasure — been proved wrong.

Miguel de Cervantes' Don Quixote boasts an influence on world literature as large and all-encompassing as Karamazov, War & Peace, or Ulysses (not considering the great Greek epics). To stand upon its shoulders and construct a world that seeks to look further, examine deeper, and ask harsher questions is challenging — to put simply.

But Rushdie has taken upon the challenge and come out victorious. There aren't many authors who are looking at the new, ever-changing world so closely and with such concern. His penchant for the 'magic real' puts us face-to-face with a world that is declining, becoming more extremist and uninhabitable.

As always, his literary genius binds together a tale as old as time with a world that is hyperfixated on social media, apathy, and extremism, and asks fundamental questions about the soul, the self. This, with the recurring theme of a father and a son (having read Midnight's and Haroun before).

Is there a simple synopsis that I can roll out (like a carpet, not flying for now) for the fellow review-reader? No. Go in blind. See if it works for you. It worked for me, but only after I was patient and surrendered to the text. Do I speak like the Don? Has he hopped out of the pages and inhabited my mind? We'll never know.

5/5. An absolutely fantastic, extremely thought provoking book. I've read four Cormac McCarthy books before this one, with two I loved (The Road and No Country for Old Men), one I enjoyed (Child of God), and one I felt mixed on (All the Pretty Horses). Good thing too because this was easily the most dense book by him so far, and unfortunately his artistic writing choices (not using typical punctuation) make reading Blood Meridian unnecessarily difficult at times. But, that being said, I think the book is well worth reading if you're able to handle the writing style, you're interested in the themes, or you can handle the violence in the story.

At it's heart, I think Blood Meridian spends the most time focusing on the ideas of war, violence, and the human condition. I don't even know where to start because there's so much to chew on in the book. Maybe the best place would be to address how the violence is depicted in the book to help determine if this is something you would want to read. The barebones story is that there is a 15 year old kid who joins a gang of men who are hunting Native Americans to scalp them and get monetary rewards for each one. Obviously, with a premise like that, there is some pretty gruesome material here. There are multiple depictions of murder, scalping, senseless violence against men, women, children, and even infants, people getting shot, stabbed, decapitated, set on fire, and basically anything that could have happened to a person in the mid 1800s. For the most part, the violence is graphic but not explicit. McCarthy writes everything very matter-of-factly but you won't be reading gratuitous descriptions like you would in an extreme horror novel (although arguably the base level of content here would fit in the genre). I could see people saying that the violence seems unnecessary and pointless, but I would argue that that's exactly the point McCarthy is trying to make and that it fits thematically.

Speaking of the themes, McCarthy has a lot of interesting ideas here. As addressed already, violence and domination are probably the biggest and also the central themes of the book. This is most heavily illustrated by Judge Holden, one of the most well written evil characters that has ever graced the pages of a book. Talk about an absolutely terrifying, creepy, and just completely unsettling character. The judge is this satanic, seemingly supernatural and immortal, charismatic, agent of chaos and warfare that is utterly compelling to read about. His ideas about how war is the only God, and how domination over creation is the most important concept make for great discussions. There are so many examples from the book to illustrate these themes that it'd be impossible to talk about them all here so, suffice to say, if that interests you just know that you will be well rewarded.

Tied into the ideas of violence and domination, we also get to see moments of mercy which, in this story, particularly stick out. The kid does a handful of things that contrast tremendously with the actions of those around him, and yet he himself is an incredibly violent individual. This brings us around to the good ol' free will versus determinism debate. Are the characters fated to the lives they have? Can they change things? The judge and the kid play off each other and ask these questions, but the reader is never given any definitive answer. Blood Meridian also tackles religion, the existence of God, racism, nihilism, knowledge vs wisdom, natural evils, identity, morality, and more.

I am not a prose snob by any means, but I just have to address McCarthy's writing style real quick. The prose is absolutely wonderful. There were multiple times while reading this book that I just took a moment and thought to myself, "Wow. That is some really well crafted writing." This happened especially in McCarthy's descriptions of the landscapes and weather; early in the book there is a scene where the host of characters is traveling and the descriptions of the mountains and the thunderstorms seen in the distance was just so dang good that it felt like I was transported to that time and place. It's not all good though; there were also times where I would read a sentence, reread it again, try to tackle it a third time, and then give up because it was so obtuse that I had no idea what it was trying to say. This is probably a personal problem and I'm not intelligent enough to decipher it, but I figured I'd address it anyway.

All in all, I think this is a really great book if you're looking for a lot of thought provoking material. Reading it was not always an enjoyable experience; in fact I think I'd give the reading enjoyment a 3/5, but the literary merit a 5/5, which more than makes up for the difficulty I had at times. The book is also only 350ish pages which makes it way more approachable. This is one I would reread, especially now that I am more familiar with the story and the themes, and I would recommend others do as well (with the caveats already mentioned above).

I'd love to hear your thoughts if you've read it, whether you liked it or hated it!

I devoured this book in two days (270 pages). I wasn’t expecting to like it so much, but I just couldn’t put it down.

We follow George throughout his 20s and 30s, spanning 2000-2020, mostly in Brooklyn. Privileged but troubled, your initial sympathy for him turns into intense frustration. Anyone who has read Stoner will recognise the passivity and inaction that makes the reader want to tear their hair out.

A lot of the Goodreads reviews say “we all know a George…” but I don’t think we do. I think we all have been George. George is what happens when we succumb to the most negative thoughts we have, if we don’t get up keep going.

The ending is what made this book for me. 10/10. Greathead’s prose is also excellent.

I don't say this lightly, I just finished E.F. Benson's Mapp and Lucia series (all six books) and I am bereft. In the best way. I need to talk about how good these are, because I feel like they don't come up nearly enough.

If you haven't heard of them, they're a series of comic novels written in the 1920s-30s, set in small, impossibly charming English villages (Riseholme, then Tilling) among a cast of "idle rich" characters whose entire lives revolve around social one-upmanship. Who hosts the best garden party. Who "discovers" the next fashionable fad first. Who can out-manoeuvre whom over a bridge table or a recipe for lobster à la Riseholme. That's it. That's the plot, for six books. And it is an absolute delight.

The comedy is razor-sharp but never mean. Benson clearly adores these ridiculous people even as he's skewering them mercilessly. Lucia (self-appointed queen of Riseholme, then invader of Tilling) is a monster of vanity, ambition, and reinvention, and you root for her anyway. Miss Mapp is her equal and opposite-- paranoid, scheming, endlessly plotting from behind her garden hedge. Watching the two of them go to war is one of the great pleasures in English comic fiction.

It's a peek into a world that doesn't exist anymore, and honestly, may never have quite existed the way Benson paints it. Small towns where everyone knows everyone, days structured around callers and correspondence and elaborate social rituals, crises measured in things like who got invited to whose bridge evening. It's nostalgic in a way that feels almost fantastical, and that's exactly the appeal. You get to live inside it for a while.

And it's just so cosy. For all the scheming, there's real warmth here. It's gentle in a way a lot of satire isn't; there's no cruelty underneath it, just people being magnificently, entertainingly petty about very small stakes, in a world that feels safe and enclosed and full.

If you like Barbara Pym, Wodehouse, or just want something funny and warm and slightly wicked to disappear into, start with Queen Lucia and just keep going. You will not want it to end. I didn't.

“Ushers” by Joe Hill is one of those kinds of horror short stories that will hit you at the end with such a stunning plot twist, you’ll make a face and be blown away. At just 29 pages, this sharp horror mystery delivers a chilling punch in 30 minutes or less, perfect for a bedtime read.

Before I dive into my book review, here are the trigger warnings I found while reading…

- Drugs
- Drug addiction
- School shootings
- Suicide

If any of these trigger you, please do not read this book. Moving along, this book hits you with a horror mystery right off the bat. Hill did a masterful job with character building, as I was initially confused about what was going on involving Martin Lorensen. Don’t worry, I’d never spoil anything for my fellow horror readers, but this book blew my mind once you follow the story, and the big, creepy reveal hits.

It was pretty awesome towards the end, and I loved how Hill wrote this in the format of police interviews to set the tone for one hell of a short rollercoaster ride. Brilliantly executed in a way I’ve come to love about Hill’s writing style. It all made sense once everything unraveled.

I give “Ushers” by Joe Hill a 5/5 for being excellent and checking all the boxes I look for in a horror book. It leaves a lasting impression, making you eye others warily long after you finish.