Tuesday, February 7, 2017

"History Is All You Left Me" | Adam Silvera

**Disclaimer: This is my first spoiler-free review. After reading this book, I think that what needs to be talked about can be without specific details from the plot.**

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For my first Adam Silvera novel, I have to say, History Is All You Left Me impressed me. For one, this book isn't written in purple prose, with flowery language the only thing composing this story.

Despite the inherent sadness woven into a plot founded upon the death of a dear ex-boyfriend, Silvera adds spunk to the novel. He makes it lively, and unique to Griffin, our main character.

In the unique structure of History, Silvera meshes the storylines of both the past—when Griffin and Theo met and their relationship developed—and the present—where Theo is dead and Griffin is left with nothing but their history.

Between his dorky quirks when he was younger and found love and safety in another, and his deep sadness now that he lost someone so close to him, Griffin is what drives the story. Silvera perfectly embodies what it is to lose someone you love, through all of the denial, the anger, the sadness, the strife, Silvera somehow includes it all.

This intense, raw, and realistic emotion instilled in all of the characters in the novel is exactly what makes it such an enjoyable read. 

The storyline is absolutely interesting in that I think I'll always have an attraction to the darker facets of humanity, but it's not particularly unique in the hands of the wrong writer. My hesitation to read contemporary novels is stemmed from this—they often follow clichéd plots, and are an amalgamation of sappy lines.

Silvera's failure to fall into this trap is another thing that makes this novel so wonderful—you can read about things that aren't typically mixed with the story of a dead boyfriend.

The thing I appreciated most in this was Griffin's case of OCD. The portrayal of mental illness in a realistic, yet not condescending way was absolutely refreshing, and I liked that it didn't necessarily come along because of Theo's death—it was just another factor he had to deal with, much like in real life.

Lastly, I appreciate whole-heartedly Silvera's work bringing therapy into the plot. Now, I know this is a weird thing to like, but in the majority of tragic contemporaries I've read, therapy is never a way the character deals with their problems. And granted, there are plenty of people suffering and not in therapy, for a variety of reasons, but it is still a realistic and acceptable step in learning to live with mental illness, and I appreciated Adam not shying away from it—particularly when it can still be stigmatized.

I know my thoughts were a bit of mess, but that's because this book left me in the mess. From the depth of emotion and realism, to the interesting characters and stylistic choices, History Is All You Left Me has been my favorite contemporary book in a while.

Characters: 95%
Plot: 95%
Depth: 100%
Style: 100%
Intrigue: 95%
Overall Rating: A+

Saturday, February 4, 2017

A Court of Mist and Fury | Book Review

**Includes Spoilers**
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To start, this was my second read of A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas, and full disclosure, I LOVED it the first time.

And I'm very, very delighted to say that in my 2017 re-read, I found myself just enamored with this novel all over again.

A Court of Mist and Fury is the second novel in a planned trilogy by Sarah J. Maas, the first book being A Court of Thorns and Roses. To be honest, I found myself disappointed before the release of ACOMAF when I decided to read ACOTAR—I didn't love it the way I did the first time.

When I first read ACOTAR, I definitely enjoyed it, but this second re-read fell flat for me. I was thinking it would hype me up for ACOMAF, but instead it made me worried. Then, I read ACOMAF and fell in absolute love. I was worried I would go through the same process in my re-read, but that wasn't the case. If anything else, I like it even more now.

ACOMAF follows our hunter-turned-High-Fae in her life after the horrors Under the Mountain. We begin with Feyre in a dark place mentally, vomiting up her guts with flashbacks to all that she'd endured.

This was where my enjoyment began. Yes, dark, yes, twisted, but most importantly, this was real. The way that Feyre struggles with PTSD from the trauma and the pain, both mental and physical, that she felt is so raw and beautiful and real. Very rarely in novels (particularly YA, though I don't know that I'd classify ACOMAF as YA), do we get such a graphic yet genuine portrayal of dealing with so much tribulation.

When Maas gives readers that, it allows us to connect much deeper to the story than if she'd glossed over it, as if killing other Fae, nearly being killed herself, and watching those she loved being tortured wasn't something that was emotionally traumatic.

From here, we move into Feyre and Tamlin's awaited wedding—the union that was supposed to be a symbol of solidarity and strength. I think the first time Feyre truly shocked me in this novel was when she internally questioned whether or not she was ready for the wedding. She explains to the reader how she wasn't sure if it was something she could do with so many demons still haunting her every move.

And in retrospect, it made sense. It made sense that while struggling with such trauma, a wedding isn't something one would want to rush into. Again, Maas' realistic portrayal of Feyre's emotions and inner turmoil won me over.

From here, Feyre slowly begins to divulge the way that Tamlin has reacted to what he struggled with Under the Mountain. And this, this is where I was truly impressed at Maas' consideration for how something like that would affect everybody involved. Where normally only the main character would be affected, Maas shows that Tamlin has become incredibly protective because of the pain it caused him to watch Feyre in danger and ripped from any protection he could have provided.

It was in this tangled new relationship that was presented in the first 40 pages that I found myself more intrigued than I ever was in the first book.

From there we move to Rhys' first appearance after three months to claim the bargain Feyre made with him (I'm not going to go into details about how I felt about the wedding scene with the red roses, because it is the same love as above). Now, I'll admit to you, I had suspicions at the end of the last book that something wasn't quite right. The shock that Rhys exhibits before disappearing struck me as odd. I'd predicted it was the mating bond (more on that later), but I wasn't sure when we were going to find out for sure, and I also wasn't sure how this would translate to his actions during their bargain.

And you can imagine my shock when, out of all the scenarios that played out in my head, what he required of Feyre was to learn to read, and to learn to shield herself mentally. Idea after idea for terrible or wonderful things that Rhys could have done to Feyre had brewed since the ending of the last novel, but learning to read or use power to shield her mind had NEVER crossed my mind.

Plot wise, rather than character wise, this was the moment I felt like I could latch onto the story. Yes, none of the main action was even close to happening, but I was hooked because it was so unexpected.

Skip forward to Tamlin refusing to teach Feyre about the powers Rhys divulged existed, and Tamlin locking Feyre in the house, we now find our neonate High-Fae at Rhys' house, having been saved by Mor and Rhys themselves.

This kindness was a shock to me, but I was still waiting for more. I couldn't see where it would go from here. And then when Rhys begins to leave, and allows Feyre come with him to Velaris, I found that "more."

I found what I felt like I was waiting to find in such a story. A hidden gem—a hidden city with untold stories, inaccessible to the rest of Prythian. And the culture that thrived here, the magic that was preserved in the streets was a masterpiece in and of itself.

Maas introducing the city in the way she did, and then subsequently introducing Rhys' inner circle was the moment I would consider I "loved" this book. The intricacies of these details were what made this book; getting to watch the banter between such well developed and accurately flawed characters made any periods lulling in action still quite enjoyable as they were all interesting or funny.

Now, the rest of the plot was epic, of course—the mortal queens, and seeing their betrayal was heart-wrenching, and of course the final scenes with the King, Feyre's sisters being turned into Fae (the very thing they hate the most), and, of course, those final moments when Feyre goes undercover—these rounded out the book beautifully. This explosion of an ending kept my heart pounding and my fingers turning the pages until there were none left to turn (you read that right—I read through the acknowledgements directly afterward because I couldn't just stop!).

Before wrapping this up, though, I'd like to address the one thing that I saw to be largely criticized when the novel first came out. I was particularly conscious of this the second read to test whether or not I'd missed something that others had caught onto. This criticism was, of course, Rhys and Feyre's relationship, and Rhys' good side, as well as Tamlin's bad side. There were many complaints that Tamlin wasn't accurately portrayed, or that it was unrealistic for Rhys to be a good guy, but even in my second read, I couldn't find any evidence to back up those opinions.

First and foremost, Tamlin—he wasn't mis-portrayed at all. He did not go out of character in the interest of Feyre falling in love with Rhys. In fact, he was perfectly in character. After going through the trauma of watching someone he loved fiercely (and you can't deny that: he loved her fiercely, even if it resulted in negative actions) put through trials and tribulation, he was created to be the type of male who would be inclined to be overprotective. And how could you not? The constant fear of losing a loved one may very well overcome you. That is why while his actions weren't good, they weren't misplaced or out of character.

Next, the whole Feyre–Rhys thing: This was foreshadowed. The entire first book honestly now just feels like Sarah J. Maas weaving threads together for this relationship; for Velaris; for them being mates. If you re-read the first book, you will see the small cracks in Rhys' dark facade; you will see the moment he noticed the mating bond snap into place, and realize that this was all bound to happen. No one went out of character for this because everything that happened was leading up to that.

And . . . end rant.

My final ratings are:

Characters: 100%
Plot: 100%
Depth: 100%
Style: 90%
Intrigue: 95%
Overall Rating: A+