Month: April 2023

Thoughts on THE GIFTS

~ shawnaborman ~ 1 Comment

Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing this wonderful Wednesday? Things here are quiet. That’s about it. Luckily, it’s the last Wednesday of the month, so I do have something to ramble about! It’s book review time. This month, I decided a little fantasy might be nice, mixed with a bit of historical fiction which is outside my wheelhouse. The Gifts by Liz Hyder was released yesterday (the 25th) from Sourcebooks Landmark. As usual, I must thank them and NetGalley for access to an ARC in exchange for an honest and unbiased review. Let’s get to it.

The Gifts follows a number of different characters on their journeys until it becomes clear how they all fit together. A woman who doesn’t really know what kind of man her husband is. The husband who doesn’t realize how far he has fallen in his path for righteousness and riches. Two women who lose everything before they can find themselves. And another young woman who follows her heart in an attempt to find her calling. It’s a story of fates intermingling and the strength it takes to look at the world even when you don’t like what you see.

So, I went into this book knowing that it was told from five different perspectives. That’s a lot, but manageable. What I didn’t know was that it’s written in third person omniscient, which means that we get thoughts and feelings from pretty much every character mentioned in this story. I hate this POV because it causes unnecessary confusion and is almost always a cluttered mess. This particular book has a few confusing moments, but it’s fairly good about separating people and their thoughts/feelings. It still seems cluttered, though. If you are wary about this POV, I admit this is one of the better examples of it that I’ve read, but I’m still bitter that I chose something with it. This is definitely a me thing.

For me, the pacing was slow and things were super repetitive. This seems to be a trend in most of the historical fiction I’ve read, so I don’t really know if it’s a pro or a con. I don’t care for it. I wanted to skip a lot of it. Is this something people enjoy? Being told basically the same stuff over and over? And then the ending feels rushed, even though it’s actually nicely paced, because everything else was so slow.

The characters were an interesting mix. I would’ve liked to learn more about Natalya. Her and Mary were my favorites. Annie and Etta came across as too perfect and didn’t really have any room to grow. I was a little annoyed that all the men were douches. Even Richard, though I don’t think he was supposed to be. The only male character with any hope of being a decent human being is Charlie and he’s just a kid. It was weird. I get the book is about tearing down the patriarchy and all that, but there should be at least one likeable dude.

The writing was nice. There were some lovely images and a few lyrical places. And there were grotesque places at times. Even though the book was long and slow, the writing made it a smooth read.

Ultimately, The Gifts wasn’t my cup of tea. Most of my issues with it were me problems, but I liked the writing, so I wouldn’t turn away from another book by Hyder.

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Overall, I gave it 3 out of 5 stars. Maybe 2 and a half. If you’re into historical fiction with a little fantasy splashed in, check it out. Otherwise, you’re not missing much.

National Poetry Month: Emily Dickinson

~ shawnaborman ~ Leave a comment

Howdy, howdy! How’s everyone doing? I currently have a headache and just want to hang out with the pupper, so I’ll make this short. This week’s poet is Emily Dickinson.

Because I could not stop for Death

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and Chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – ’tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity –

National Poetry Month: Dylan Thomas

~ shawnaborman ~ Leave a comment

Howdy, howdy! How’s everyone doing this lovely day? Things here are okay. We left the house on Monday for a couple of errands. Even tried going to an actual restaurant for the first time since March 2020, but the patio was closed, so screw that place. Home and Hot Pockets for the win! Anyway, it’s time for another poem. This is one Dad used to recite to me when I was little, especially when I was sick or going through surgery stuff. It’s probably why the villanelle is my favorite form. Without further ado… Dylan Thomas.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

National Poetry Month: Robert Frost

~ shawnaborman ~ 2 Comments

Hello, hello! How’s everyone doing this wonderful Wednesday? It’s National Poetry Month, so I’m going to take April easy and just post a poem that I enjoy each week (except, of course, on review day). Mostly because I’m lazy and have nothing good to ramble about. Anyway, first up is Robert Frost.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.