Pedro Brito từ Karszyn, Poland

pedro_aboim

11/05/2024

Dữ liệu người dùng, đánh giá và đề xuất cho sách

Pedro Brito Sách lại (10)

2018-05-21 16:30

Tân Hôn Phòng Thư viện Sách hướng dẫn

Sách được viết bởi Bởi: Hà Lạc

** spoiler alert ** I enjoyed reading this book overall more than the two-star rating would indicate, but there's a crucial plot twist towards the very end of the book that I thought depicted rape in a deeply problematic way. I think that Grossman tries to play the metaphor towards empowerment here; he's not utterly unaware of the trickiness of portraying sexual violence in a fantasy context. While the rape transforms the character who suffers it, and she ultimately becomes powerful and happy (in spite or even because of what happened to her--again, a difficult subject and stance), Grossman's treatment of this scene bothered me, and not just because it's disturbing subject matter. In fact, this scene is not disturbing enough--that's one of the problems with it. Grossman has a rollicking sense of plot (though he tends to repeat the "how do we get back to fantasyland?" approach too many times; I finally got bored by "we want to be there, but we're stuck here! Whatever shall we do?" premise). He clearly read all the same books that I did as a child, though sometimes his allusions to them are so blatant and nod-nod, wink-winky that it undermines the wittiness of the reference. Also, his characters are always (in this book as in the last book) stuck in opulent environments being bored. Whether Fillory (the magical land at the center of this tale), Venice, or Cornwall, the destinations in this novel are posh, involve the copious consumption of liquor, and the conspicuous expenditure of cash (or, in Fillory, gold). Which feels a bit yucky to be honest. Maybe he's exposing the financial fantasy at the heart of the aristocratic medievalism that characterizes modern fantasy fiction. Or maybe he's just spent a lot of time vacationing and wants to describe envy-and-drool inspiring destinations for his readers. But it made me feel a little icked out by the privileged kids here. So he tries to counterpoint it by the overachieving-girl-addicted-to-crack...I mean, magic....subplot, and while reminiscent of Dark Willow in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, this plot line, giving the backstory of Julia, the girl who did not get into the magical academy where the rest of this crew learned their arts and (witch)crafts, was way more interesting than Quentin (the protagonist's) whining. Though I will say that one thing that I liked about this postmodern parody of fantasy fiction is that it recognizes a central strain in Narnia, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter: namely that these books are at their heart about moody boys coming of age, whether Edmund craving Turkish delight from the White Witch, Frodo burdened by the ring, or Harry possessed by Voldemort. Ultimately, while Grossman tries to be constantly snarky (a tic that gets on my nerves because he doesn't often strike my funny bone), he is in fact writing a fantasy novel in relatively good faith here. And I like that. But I think I'm done with this series. It's ultimately more about ungainly plots than it is about compelling characters, in spite of Quentin's constant dilemmas and vacillations between arrogance and self-loathing. I did like Abigail the talking sloth. But I think I ultimately like my fantasy straight up rather than on the rocks. Also, this is so derivative! I know parody is derivative by its very nature, but at least a good third of this book felt like an inferior crib of Neil Gaiman's American Gods. (that's the problem with having read many of the same books the author has--the tendency to feel cheated of the genuine article, in spite of Grossman's impish delight in reminding you that he's copying.)

Người đọc Pedro Brito từ Karszyn, Poland

Người dùng coi những cuốn sách này là thú vị nhất trong năm 2017-2018, ban biên tập của cổng thông tin "Thư viện Sách hướng dẫn" khuyến cáo rằng tất cả các độc giả sẽ làm quen với văn học này.