Daughter of Deep Silence Review

Remember the TV show Revenge? It was a show with a wacky but compelling first season, about a young women on a mission of... revenge. I'm pleased to say that Daughter of Deep Silence is very similar to Revenge, both in subject matter and tone, but doesn't approach copycat status.  Well done, Carrie Ryan, if the nod to Revenge was intentional, which I kind of hope it was.

Daughter of Deep Silence follows Frances, a girl who was fourteen when unmasked gunmen boarded the cruise ship that she and her parents were passengers on.  Everyone was slaughtered, except Frances and her friend Libby, who escaped by hiding on a forgotten dumbwaiter.  Adrift on a life raft, the girls are discovered by Libby's father's own ship, but too late for Libby to survive.  While convalescing in a hospital, Frances discovers that Grey Wells, a fellow passenger that she had a brief, yet powerful, romance with, and his father, a U.S. Senator, survived the gunmen as well.  Only Grey and his father don't mention any gunmen... they blame an enormous wave for the disaster.  Figuring the Senator, and possibly Grey, had something to do with the attack, and that she is still in danger, Frances goes into hiding. Then, years later, hardened and formidable, Frances plays her own retaliatory hand.

First, let's get some issues of the way.  Much like Revenge, Daughter of Deep Silence has plot holes galore.  There were a ton of things that made no sense.  Fortunately for me, these plot holes didn't bother me so much.  This may not be the case with all readers, but I gave this book a lot of leeway, perhaps because I wanted to enjoy it.  However, I do acknowledge that the plot holes are a legitimate weakness of the book.

Secondly, Frances' actions can be maddening at times.  She waffles at moments, vacillating between being too hard and too soft.  These actions are consistent with her character, however, which is highly conflicted.  I can readily see how some readers would be very put off by Frances.

Thirdly, I have this feeling that the book had quite a bit of unrealized potential.  The novel had a very nice concept and solid characters, but wound up drawing back instead of moving forward a number of times.  I realize that this criticism is quite abstract... What I mean is, is that Ryan could have pushed the envelope a little further to make this book even better.

Now for the things I liked.  The flashback scenes were very effective, I thought.  The contrast between the young girl Frances used to be, and the hard woman she is now was striking.  Her memories are poignant and sepia-toned, knowing as we do how those blissful moments at sea before the disaster were Frances' last happy times.  The romance between a young Grey and Frances was pretty darn sexy, for them being so young.  I mean, wowza.  A standout scene in the book was a memory of Frances and Grey swimming together, playing around with his water-proof phone.  The scene is blissful and passionate and then Ryan transitions that phone into the future with cymbal-crashing shock.  It was my favorite moment of the book.

So, while I'd like to give Daughter of Deep Silence a higher rating, I'm more than aware of its shortcomings.  However, I did legitimately enjoy this book and I look forward to Carrie Ryan's future offerings.

 

 

I'll Meet You There Review

My anticipation for this book was really high, despite my dislike for Demetrios' recent novels, Exquisite Captive and Something Real.  I think the concept of a contemporary romance, filthied by such extreme issues as poverty and amputation caught my interest, frankly.  I'm past the point of my life where I find Dessen-caliber contemporaries compelling — I need a little more grit to muster up my enjoyment, as off-kilter as that sounds.

Additionally, the early favorable reviews of I'll Meet You There had me really excited.  I pre-ordered the book on Amazon, and when I woke up at 1am the morning of the book's release day, I grabbed my kindle from my bedside table, and read the entire book before falling back to sleep.

I'm rating I'll Meet You There at 3 stars, because the book kept my interest so well. It was well written.  I didn't roll my eyes at any egregiously stupid parts, as I'm doing more and more with YA books these days (to my dismay).  I did, however, frown a lot while reading this novel.  Let me explain...

Although I've read a lot of reviews that note how I'll Meet You There has a slow-to-progress romance, that the romantic element of the book is more of a side note, I'm of the opinion that the book is a flat-out romance, no doubt about it.

I have no problem with this.  I love romances.  However, that means that Josh Mitchell, our male protagonist, is technically a romantic hero.  And Josh Mitchell is a, um, different romantic hero than I'm accustomed to.

Normally, this would be outstanding.  There's a lot of discussion out there about how characters in the romance genre are cliched up the wazoo.  So any diversions from tired tropes are good.  It's great when characters are recognizable as flesh-and-blood people.  Josh Mitchell is a recognizable human character.  I know a ton of douchebags just like him.

Seriously, this character that Demetrios has served to us, is a dick.  The first time readers meet Josh, he calls one the heroine's friends a faggot.  Not okay!  Although Josh makes an apology later (although to the heroine, not to the person he actually, you know, was a homophobic asshole to) he makes lots of douche-bro, meathead faux pas along our romantic journey with him.  Like an emotional imbecile, he repeatedly calls himself a pussy for experiencing PTSD symptoms. He has those nude-girl silhouette bumper stickers on his truck like a big, panting neanderthal. His favorite outlet of frustration is to throw beer bottles out of his truck window at abandoned gas stations like some sort of unimaginative goon.  I could go on, but I won't.

So my problem with I'll Meet You There is that, although Josh Mitchell is representative of many young men, he didn't light my fire.  At all.  For a romance, that's a deathstroke.

So, Something Real, Exquisite Captive, and I'll Meet You There. That's three strikes.  Unless future Demetrios books get utter raves, I'm going to pass on this author's works.

Review: The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender

Deciding on a rating for this book is difficult.  On one hand, I want to give the author props for her good writing.  She managed to be lyrical and stylistic, but not overdo it.  On the other hand, most everything about The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender made me want to argue.  I can't, in all honesty, say that I liked the book.

The novel is a family saga told with plentiful dollops of magical realism.  It's style and content reminded me a good deal of Isabel Allende's The House of the Spirits. Actually, "Allende Lite" are the words that come to mind.  Because, while Leslye Walton's prose is up to par with Allende, there was no driving political or socioeconomic message.  Nor, I thought, was there much of a message at all.

Kiera Cass, the author of The Selection, has a blurb on the back.  She writes: "The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender explores the real-life questions of why we love and how we choose to hold on to it."  Okay.

The cover blurb states, "Leslye Walton has constructed a layered and haunting mythology of what it means to be born with a heart that is tragically, exquisitely human." Sure.

Since we're all sharing opinions, I think The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender conveys that life is random and full of tragedies, but moments of quiet beauty and joy can come from the times when we pull our heads out of our asses, move onwards and upwards, and forge meaningful and lasting human connections.

I had to think long and hard before I came up with that English-major bullshit.  My point is, that the message of Ava Lavender is unfocused and kind of generic.  I think the story could have benefitted from a stronger and more eye-catching direction.

That would have given me some bearings while wading through Walton's thick, though pleasant, prose.  The plot meandered completely unapologetically throughout the Roux-Lavender generations.  (Conveyed to us by Ava.  She tells us that the point of the story is to understand who she is and how she came to be.)

Writing this review has made me more comfortable with giving this novel three stars.  I had deep issues with the book, but I admire that Walton's work raised so many questions for me to wrestle with.