The Fates Divide by Veronica Roth
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Well, loyal Pinecones, the time has come for me to complete another Veronica Roth series, and while I'm not nearly as enamored with this duology as I was with the Divergent trilogy, I'm still at least reasonably satisfied with how The Fates Divide wraps things up. It's not without its problems, but it finally lets the ambitious visions of Carve the Mark see the light of day. Unless we're on planet Ogra, where the only light is bioluminescence instead of solar.
The world-building of the first book was seriously lacking for the grand scope Roth tried to go for from the start, but Roth does improve things a lot now in the second book. We actually get to see more of the other worlds of this solar system, besides Thuvhe, aka Urek. It's still a little strange that each planet is treated as its own nation when they'd feasibly all have multiple nations, and the only one that seems to have multiple is how the Thuvhesit and Shotet all live on the same planet. At least we also get some words of the in-universe languages too. Not too many - and as a bit of a language nut myself, it really peeves me that Roth keeps tying herself in knots half the time to not actually show words in Thuvhesit, Shotet, Ogran, Zoldian, etc. But finally, we actually get to imagine a little bit of the sounds of each language instead of having them 100% told instead of shown.
The languages are all, of course, pretty inextricable parts of cultures that are constantly at odds with each other. The Thuvhesit and Shotet and their endless war continues to figure into the story majorly, and remembering how their bigotry against each other led to the controversy about the first book being racist, I also have to point out that a lot of the arguments there really don't stand up to scrutiny. Yeah, it's easy to peg the Thuvhesit as white-coded because they basically started all the atrocities - and in this book, try to take things to the next level by colonizing Shotet territory and offering the Shotet full Thuvhesit citizenship if they turn against the Noaveks, which brought to mind Israel vs. Palestine. It's also easy to peg the Shotet as black-coded, Native-coded, Romani-coded, etc. because pretty much everyone else treats them like scum, whether it be because of their nomadic lifestyles or the brutalities of Lazmet and Ryzek Noavek poisoning their perception across the system. So, yeah, there's a lot of in-universe bigotry floating around. It doesn't help that one of the two new POVs in this book is Cisi, who right from the start casually tosses around anti-Shotet slurs. She does come around to a more enlightened frame of mind as the book continues, much more akin to Cyra and Akos, but it's still not at all pleasant to read. But the whole argument from last year or so about the Shotet being a perpetuation of the "dark-skinned aggressor" racist trope still falls flat when you remember that skin color is a virtual non-issue in this universe, and also that if anyone's the aggressors and villains, it's the light-skinned ones, specifically Ryzek and Lazmet, who are vile and barbaric and white as it gets.
I've done a lot of thought about this book in the last year or so, and I'm actually glad to have eventually seen Veronica Roth's own response. Naturally, a lot of people tore that apart, citing death of the author or black readers' opinion carrying more weight, or my personal favorite, Tristina Wright saying "intent doesn't matter." (Ironic that she came out swinging against Roth when her own book was eventually called out as racist and colonialist, and arguably a worse case because she wrote entirely in the POV of the colonizers...but I digress.) But I read that and realized Roth's explanations made a lot of sense. Really, it's such a sad irony that a book with strong anti-prejudice themes gets called exactly the opposite, which says more about the dreadful state of online discourse than anything else. Even a lot of my workmates, who are even more about social justice than I am, recognize this dreadfulness and try not to let it impact their critical thinking skills.
In terms of craft, Roth makes The Fates Divide one of her most experimental yet. She writes in four different POVs, representing each one with different combinations of verb tense and perspective so we can tell which is which. Akos' third-person limited past tense and Cyra's first-person past tense from the first book remain. We also get Cisi in first-person present tense, and Eijeh in first-person plural, representing the split state of his mind after Ryzek had his way and screwed around with all his memories. Perhaps because of the sheer weirdness of this style, harking back to Ayn Rand's Anthem of all things, Eijeh gets far fewer POV chapters than any of the others, which begs the question of why Roth even bothered in the first place. As grateful as I am for the expanded world-building, and that the book was shorter and faster-paced, there's still a lot of fat that could've been trimmed. Like Eijeh's POV chapters. Or, hell, even the Noaveks. They've got their big scary currentgifts, especially the body-controlling Lazmet, but most of the book, Lazmet's pretty much nowhere to be seen. He's more of a boogeyman than anything else, a villain told instead of shown, which kinda ruins his scare factor for me.
But there's still a lot more good in this book than in its predecessor. The moral greyness makes it a gripping read, especially when we get such contrast between Cyra and Akos and their quests for peace and healing, while Cisi's caught up in a cycle of war and vengeance. It's funny that there's been a lot of discourse lately about YA needing more canon f/f pairings, and hey, here's Cisi and Isae for you, but because they're anti-heroes if not anti-villains, that probably doesn't count for said discourse givers. Their relationship is still very sweet and loving, though, as is that of the m/f pairing of Cyra and Akos. Both of them have such significant cases of chronic pain - physical for Cyra, emotional for Akos, despite his insistence that he's reserved and not very emotionally expressive at all. But inside, he hurts so much. And as for Cyra, her physical pain may be a major obstacle, but the true purpose of it gets unveiled in this book, and given that Cyra's chronic pain is #ownvoices for Roth, I'd like to think of that as her way of providing a much-needed message of empowerment. They may not be quite as iconic as Tris and Four, but Cyra and Akos, I relate to them a hell of a lot. Even though Lazmet's storyline involvement is minimal at best, when he actually does show up and start interacting with Akos in particular, their scenes give me flashbacks to some of the scenes I wrote between Alex and Elijah in Red Rain.
Best of all, without spoilers, I'll just say that the ending is far less lethal and infuriating than that of Allegiant, and I say that as seemingly the only person who actually enjoyed Allegiant even with that ending. (Though there's a case of Roth making it look like she's gonna pull a Bury Your Gays - again, after Insurgent - but it's a fakeout, it doesn't happen.) Hell, the best death in the book is actually in the beginning - most unexpected, and most satisfying as hell.
To Carve the Mark and The Fates Divide, I now say anoshe, and eagerly await the day when Veronica Roth at long last writes the book truly worth standing in the pantheon alongside Divergent, Insurgent, Allegiant, and Four.
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The musings of Ricky Pine, future bestselling author of the RED RAIN series and other Wattpad novels.
Monday, April 30, 2018
Sunday, April 29, 2018
Review: Chainbreaker
Chainbreaker by Tara Sim
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
The middle entry of Tara Sim's Timekeeper Trilogy takes the reader to India, an India still under British colonial rule, and also under the auspices of the clock towers...except the clock towers there are being attacked too, and strangely, there's no side effect of time Stopping in the process. So, naturally, Danny is sent to investigate, along with Daphne, who's white-passing biracial English-Indian (thus making this book #ownvoices for Sim) and very much caught between worlds. And back in England, Colton has to leave his tower behind after it gets destroyed, and he makes his way to the only one he can trust to help: Danny's dad. So, between those two storylines, this is a brick of a book, almost 500 pages. There's at least some more clues about the nature of the clock towers and spirits and the magic thereof, but it's still kept all rather more vague than I'd like. What's best developed in this book, though, is the historical gaze, critical of colonialism as expected, but also shining its light on flaws in India as well - namely, their own low tolerance of gayness, which strikes pretty close to home for Danny. (That said, though, unlike in the first book, here nobody actually delivers any anti-gay attacks against Danny or anyone else.)
One thing I will highlight, though:
The cliffhanger. It's downright Riordan-grade, prompting an apology from Sim herself in the acknowledgments. And positively Aveyardian, making me angry like I just finished Glass Sword for the first time all over again.
Only one more book in this trilogy, Firestarter. But seriously, where can Sim take us from here? I'm very, very scared for all my faves now!
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My rating: 4 of 5 stars
The middle entry of Tara Sim's Timekeeper Trilogy takes the reader to India, an India still under British colonial rule, and also under the auspices of the clock towers...except the clock towers there are being attacked too, and strangely, there's no side effect of time Stopping in the process. So, naturally, Danny is sent to investigate, along with Daphne, who's white-passing biracial English-Indian (thus making this book #ownvoices for Sim) and very much caught between worlds. And back in England, Colton has to leave his tower behind after it gets destroyed, and he makes his way to the only one he can trust to help: Danny's dad. So, between those two storylines, this is a brick of a book, almost 500 pages. There's at least some more clues about the nature of the clock towers and spirits and the magic thereof, but it's still kept all rather more vague than I'd like. What's best developed in this book, though, is the historical gaze, critical of colonialism as expected, but also shining its light on flaws in India as well - namely, their own low tolerance of gayness, which strikes pretty close to home for Danny. (That said, though, unlike in the first book, here nobody actually delivers any anti-gay attacks against Danny or anyone else.)
One thing I will highlight, though:
The cliffhanger. It's downright Riordan-grade, prompting an apology from Sim herself in the acknowledgments. And positively Aveyardian, making me angry like I just finished Glass Sword for the first time all over again.
Only one more book in this trilogy, Firestarter. But seriously, where can Sim take us from here? I'm very, very scared for all my faves now!
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Avengers: Infinity War - "I Don't Feel So Good..."
***NO SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR, BUT SPOILERS FOR PREVIOUS MCU FILMS APPEAR WITHIN. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED: THANOS DEMANDS YOUR SILENCE.***
Look at everyone ready to fight Thanos - or, to paraphrase and embellish on Stark's dialogue, the Diseased Purple Nutsack. |
You know this movie's the most serious business the MCU's given us yet when, instead of the usual soaring Michael Giacchino theme that plays over the Marvel Studios opening logo, we instead hear a distress call from the ship carrying all the Asgardians fleeing the destruction of their homeworld in Ragnarok six months ago. And the logo slowly gets a black background instead of the usual red one. And then it all jumps to the flaming wreckage of the ship, with so much death and destruction already, and no less than two major characters die on screen at Thanos' hand before this opening scene is over.
Yeah...that one Ragnarok post-credits scene was a little funny until Thanos showed up, and then we were all, "Oh crap." But now it's far less funny. In fact, this movie is so radically different from all previous Marvel movies, the most unremitting and intense yet, that it actually makes all the others look naive and silly in hindsight, knowing that, up to now, this is what it all leads up to. The movie where the impossible happens - all the Infinity Stones make themselves known, everything hurts and we're all dying, and, most impossible of all, you're actually going to hate Star-Lord and that's a promise.
There's really not a lot to say on this movie that isn't a spoiler, so this review is gonna be a short one. All I will say is this: Marvel puts out product that meets their usual standards and then some, as expected, and are we sure Joss Whedon wasn't involved in the screenwriting of this movie? Like, at all? I mean, not that Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely can't pull off serious game-changers after Winter Soldier and Civil War, not that the Russo Brothers can't direct the hell out of said game-changing scripts with top-notch actors all over the place...but seriously, this is some Whedon-level soul-bombage. Okay, maybe it doesn't have to be Joss. Maybe Jed. Jed Whedon proved himself capable of searing our souls to ash with Agents of SHIELD Episode 4x15: "Self Control," the second-best episode in that show's history (only 5x01, "Orientation, Part 1," beats it out, and only by a narrow margin.) Sure, Agents of SHIELD is kept mostly separate from the larger MCU - though this Friday's episode does drop a tiny nugget of a hint about Infinity War when Daisy asks, "Have you seen what's happening in New York?" But I'm firmly convinced Markus and McFeely consulted with at least one Whedon on their script for this one, just from the way we get a metric ton of death, and even leaving a few emotional cracks in Thanos' armor in the process.
The ending, though.
Slow.
Goddamn.
TORTURE.
Especially when a certain someone says "I don't feel so good." You'll gasp when the first death happens in that scene, scream and swear at the screen at another, sit back numb for most of the rest of them...but one. ONE. Will make you cry all the ugly tears like Amazing Spider-Man 2 all over again.
Not to mention that one death when even Thanos cries.
And also the scene where one character literally begs for their own future death. I shit you not.
To Infinity War, I give an A grade - likely to be bumped up to an A+ once it's properly paired with next year's conclusion, which better set this house in order because there's no way all those deaths are going to stick.
This could NOT have been the only way.
Till next time, Pinecones...
#FeedTheRightWolf |
Remember: Denis Leary is always watching. Always. |
Review: Gilded Cage
Gilded Cage by Vic James
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I managed to sleep on this one for quite a while after waiting for it to come out for a couple of years, mostly because my library couldn't be arsed to get it themselves and I wound up having to special order it from Sacramento. After seeing the sequel join it on the shelves at the bookstore, I decided to finally pick up Gilded Cage, but after all the Wattpad hype, unlike with Taran Matharu's Summoner series, I confess myself disappointed. This book tries to be a lot at once - a YA fantasy dystopian that's dark enough to wind up on the adult shelves, like The Bone Season but with actual teenage protags; an alternative history, again like The Bone Season; a sci-fi family drama dystopian in the vein of the TV series Colony, and sure enough, Luke's storyline in particular has eerie shades of that of Colony's Bram Bowman. That said, though, James tries so hard to give us so much at once that it turns the book into a muddled mess of jumbled multi-POVs and thin world-building. There's next to no information about what the ironically-named "Equals" are - wizards? Aliens? Mutants? Who knows. I'm sorry to say I'm probably not going to read the sequel - this book just had so much going for it that to disappoint me this much makes me lose just about all interest.
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My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I managed to sleep on this one for quite a while after waiting for it to come out for a couple of years, mostly because my library couldn't be arsed to get it themselves and I wound up having to special order it from Sacramento. After seeing the sequel join it on the shelves at the bookstore, I decided to finally pick up Gilded Cage, but after all the Wattpad hype, unlike with Taran Matharu's Summoner series, I confess myself disappointed. This book tries to be a lot at once - a YA fantasy dystopian that's dark enough to wind up on the adult shelves, like The Bone Season but with actual teenage protags; an alternative history, again like The Bone Season; a sci-fi family drama dystopian in the vein of the TV series Colony, and sure enough, Luke's storyline in particular has eerie shades of that of Colony's Bram Bowman. That said, though, James tries so hard to give us so much at once that it turns the book into a muddled mess of jumbled multi-POVs and thin world-building. There's next to no information about what the ironically-named "Equals" are - wizards? Aliens? Mutants? Who knows. I'm sorry to say I'm probably not going to read the sequel - this book just had so much going for it that to disappoint me this much makes me lose just about all interest.
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Wednesday, April 25, 2018
Review: The Astonishing Color of After
The Astonishing Color of After by Emily X.R. Pan
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This book was...long.
This book was...difficult to read.
That's not just because of the sheer Silvera-grade feels, but also because of the strange magic involved. Ascribing a genre to this book is very difficult, because it's not only got paranormal-type strangeness, but also just plain surreal fantasy. Magical realism, maybe? Well, maybe not for the purists who insist magical realism must be Latin American in origin, but it's about the closest term I can think of to describe how unusual this book is. Or, perhaps, Toni Morrison-esque - while working at the bookstore today, I had this book in hand while talking to a coworker, and when I described it to her, she immediately compared it to Morrison's style, sight unseen.
Whatever the genre or style of this book may be, it's a haunting and powerful read, and if you think you can handle this level of feels, I do recommend you go right ahead and read it.
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My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This book was...long.
This book was...difficult to read.
That's not just because of the sheer Silvera-grade feels, but also because of the strange magic involved. Ascribing a genre to this book is very difficult, because it's not only got paranormal-type strangeness, but also just plain surreal fantasy. Magical realism, maybe? Well, maybe not for the purists who insist magical realism must be Latin American in origin, but it's about the closest term I can think of to describe how unusual this book is. Or, perhaps, Toni Morrison-esque - while working at the bookstore today, I had this book in hand while talking to a coworker, and when I described it to her, she immediately compared it to Morrison's style, sight unseen.
Whatever the genre or style of this book may be, it's a haunting and powerful read, and if you think you can handle this level of feels, I do recommend you go right ahead and read it.
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Sunday, April 22, 2018
Review: The Bishop's Pawn
The Bishop's Pawn by Steve Berry
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Steve Berry's continuing his several-years-long hot streak of US-history-based conspiracy thrillers, now with one he claims he's had in the pipeline for a decade, but hasn't published till now because it'd be perfectly timely with the fiftieth anniversary of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s assassination. I've heard a few of the conspiracies this book delves into before - like how J. Edgar Hoover was determined to out MLK's character flaws, or at least get him widely considered a communist, in an attempt to delegitimize him. But The Bishop's Pawn, set against the backdrop of Cotton Malone retrospectively examining one of his earliest cases, dissects those conspiracies as masterfully as one can expect from Berry, and showcases that even a flawed man can still have a strong and positive impact on history and should still be remembered as such.
I'm obligated to warn you, if you're considering going into this book, that there are a lot of potentially troubling moments when Malone and allies unearth some seriously disturbing transcripts re: Hoover and/or James Earl Ray. Racist language abounds, as you can imagine. Not to mention scenes written, as if in journal entries, to describe the moments of MLK's assassination and death - these are extremely, extremely bloody and graphic.
But I'll say this much - it wouldn't be a proper Steve Berry novel if you didn't come out of it with a newfound appreciation for US history, and a sincere wish that maybe, just maybe, people would actually take its lessons to heart and not try to emulate the worst of the worst of its players. Emulate the best instead. Like MLK.
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My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Steve Berry's continuing his several-years-long hot streak of US-history-based conspiracy thrillers, now with one he claims he's had in the pipeline for a decade, but hasn't published till now because it'd be perfectly timely with the fiftieth anniversary of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s assassination. I've heard a few of the conspiracies this book delves into before - like how J. Edgar Hoover was determined to out MLK's character flaws, or at least get him widely considered a communist, in an attempt to delegitimize him. But The Bishop's Pawn, set against the backdrop of Cotton Malone retrospectively examining one of his earliest cases, dissects those conspiracies as masterfully as one can expect from Berry, and showcases that even a flawed man can still have a strong and positive impact on history and should still be remembered as such.
I'm obligated to warn you, if you're considering going into this book, that there are a lot of potentially troubling moments when Malone and allies unearth some seriously disturbing transcripts re: Hoover and/or James Earl Ray. Racist language abounds, as you can imagine. Not to mention scenes written, as if in journal entries, to describe the moments of MLK's assassination and death - these are extremely, extremely bloody and graphic.
But I'll say this much - it wouldn't be a proper Steve Berry novel if you didn't come out of it with a newfound appreciation for US history, and a sincere wish that maybe, just maybe, people would actually take its lessons to heart and not try to emulate the worst of the worst of its players. Emulate the best instead. Like MLK.
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Review: Aru Shah and the End of Time
Aru Shah and the End of Time by Roshani Chokshi
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
The first official release of the new Rick Riordan Presents imprint gets this whole enterprise off to a speedy start. If you are a child, whether actually or at heart, pick up Aru Shah and the End of Time. If, like me, you weren't all that impressed with Roshani Chokshi's earlier YA fantasy titles (I couldn't even finish The Star-Touched Queen), pick this up anyway because it's the point where Chokshi gets to really cut loose with the fun and funny, #ownvoices fantasy style. And Riordan-style, of course - a lot of the storyline and humor are extremely Riordan-like, but that's not a bad thing, not for this fanboy who's never tired of that signature comic style, and especially not now that it's being tailored to include Hindu legends and culture in a highly modernized way. Seriously, the Night Market being a literal Costco on steroids? All the gods and demigods of the Hindu pantheon proving themselves just as bonkers as Riordan's versions of the Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Norse ones? Aru and Mini's never-perfect but still-so-precious questing dynamic? The most unexpected twists re: the villainous Sleeper? And of course, Boo? What's not to love?
For sure I'm going to be recommending this book at lot at the bookstore, especially to potential #ownvoices Indian readers. And especially to a lot of the kids I tutor, many of whom are Indian themselves and will almost certainly see themselves in Aru like few other kidlit heroes.
Three more books in this series, not to mention several other series planned for Rick Riordan Presents?
Bring it on.
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My rating: 4 of 5 stars
The first official release of the new Rick Riordan Presents imprint gets this whole enterprise off to a speedy start. If you are a child, whether actually or at heart, pick up Aru Shah and the End of Time. If, like me, you weren't all that impressed with Roshani Chokshi's earlier YA fantasy titles (I couldn't even finish The Star-Touched Queen), pick this up anyway because it's the point where Chokshi gets to really cut loose with the fun and funny, #ownvoices fantasy style. And Riordan-style, of course - a lot of the storyline and humor are extremely Riordan-like, but that's not a bad thing, not for this fanboy who's never tired of that signature comic style, and especially not now that it's being tailored to include Hindu legends and culture in a highly modernized way. Seriously, the Night Market being a literal Costco on steroids? All the gods and demigods of the Hindu pantheon proving themselves just as bonkers as Riordan's versions of the Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Norse ones? Aru and Mini's never-perfect but still-so-precious questing dynamic? The most unexpected twists re: the villainous Sleeper? And of course, Boo? What's not to love?
For sure I'm going to be recommending this book at lot at the bookstore, especially to potential #ownvoices Indian readers. And especially to a lot of the kids I tutor, many of whom are Indian themselves and will almost certainly see themselves in Aru like few other kidlit heroes.
Three more books in this series, not to mention several other series planned for Rick Riordan Presents?
Bring it on.
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Saturday, April 21, 2018
Review: Immortal Reign
Immortal Reign by Morgan Rhodes
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I can't believe it's been over a year since I read the fifth Falling Kingdoms novel, though given there was a pretty long gap between that book and this concluding sixth entry, that's no surprise. And along the way, Rhodes has given us quite a wild ride, more so than I ever would have expected. It ain't my favorite series by a long shot, but Falling Kingdoms has become the Song of Ice and Fire we'd be getting but better if only George R.R. Martin would actually finish the books in a timely manner. Over the course of six books, there's been an increased focus on magic and old gods' shenanigans as opposed to the more soapy royal-court stuff that pervaded the first two or three books. A lot of characters I used to dislike have proven themselves to me as far more complex than they appeared on the surface (I'm looking at Magnus and Gaius, and definitely Amara too.) And while it wouldn't be Rhodes if it weren't a deadly novel, as the conclusion to the series, it ends on a most unexpectedly hopeful note.
Though I don't think Rhodes is done with this 'verse yet - she's still got one more book in that Outlander-style spinoff trilogy, I believe - as for the original Falling Kingdoms series, I can now say vas ir...anoshe.
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My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I can't believe it's been over a year since I read the fifth Falling Kingdoms novel, though given there was a pretty long gap between that book and this concluding sixth entry, that's no surprise. And along the way, Rhodes has given us quite a wild ride, more so than I ever would have expected. It ain't my favorite series by a long shot, but Falling Kingdoms has become the Song of Ice and Fire we'd be getting but better if only George R.R. Martin would actually finish the books in a timely manner. Over the course of six books, there's been an increased focus on magic and old gods' shenanigans as opposed to the more soapy royal-court stuff that pervaded the first two or three books. A lot of characters I used to dislike have proven themselves to me as far more complex than they appeared on the surface (I'm looking at Magnus and Gaius, and definitely Amara too.) And while it wouldn't be Rhodes if it weren't a deadly novel, as the conclusion to the series, it ends on a most unexpectedly hopeful note.
Though I don't think Rhodes is done with this 'verse yet - she's still got one more book in that Outlander-style spinoff trilogy, I believe - as for the original Falling Kingdoms series, I can now say vas ir...anoshe.
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Wednesday, April 18, 2018
Review: Children of Blood and Bone
Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Not for nothing has Tomi Adeyemi debuted as strongly as she has, taking the YA world by storm with this instant #1-bestselling fantasy epic. Richly steeped in Nigerian culture (Orïsha, the fantasy kingdom in which Adeyemi sets her novel, being an alternate Nigeria with the cities located roughly where their real-world counterparts would be - and the world map strongly reminds me of Dhonielle Clayton's Orléans too, because of the many islands), boasting a terrifically complex magic system (ten clans carrying ten different types of magic, though this book primarily focuses on two of them), and split between three disparate first-person POVs to showcase a diverse cross-section of Orïsha's society and the deep class divisions thereof, Children of Blood and Bone is nothing short of a pure masterpiece.
Over the years, I've heard many readers and writers say that long series debuts - and long debuts, period - are absolutely for no. But in this 500-plus-page opus, Adeyemi breaks that particular rule in all the best ways. I'm reminded so much of the best of such writers as N.K. Jemisin, Kate Elliott, and Nnedi Okorafor here...but I think perhaps the greatest influence on Adeyemi must have been Marie Lu's The Young Elites. The parallels between this book and Lu's are as strong as it gets - fantasy kingdom with ruling elites oppressing their people and condemning those with magical abilities to the underest of underclasses, forbidden romance between an up-and-coming magic user and a prince with conflicted loyalties.
My hope for Zélie, though, is that she doesn't come to follow quite the same villainous path that Adelina did in The Rose Society. She very well could, but I'd also like to think that unlike Adelina, Zélie has a stronger support system from the get-go, more anchors to keep herself better rooted morally.
Then again, though, the title for that second book - Children of Virtue and Vengeance - gives me some foreboding feelings about what's next for Zélie and company.
For sure, Children of Blood and Bone is a virtual lock-in for this year's Pinecone Award rankings, just like The Hate U Give was after I first finished reading it almost exactly one year ago. I don't wanna call it as the winner just yet - I did that with King's Cage last year and it wound up in fourth place - but if I did, I'd do so with considerable confidence.
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My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Not for nothing has Tomi Adeyemi debuted as strongly as she has, taking the YA world by storm with this instant #1-bestselling fantasy epic. Richly steeped in Nigerian culture (Orïsha, the fantasy kingdom in which Adeyemi sets her novel, being an alternate Nigeria with the cities located roughly where their real-world counterparts would be - and the world map strongly reminds me of Dhonielle Clayton's Orléans too, because of the many islands), boasting a terrifically complex magic system (ten clans carrying ten different types of magic, though this book primarily focuses on two of them), and split between three disparate first-person POVs to showcase a diverse cross-section of Orïsha's society and the deep class divisions thereof, Children of Blood and Bone is nothing short of a pure masterpiece.
Over the years, I've heard many readers and writers say that long series debuts - and long debuts, period - are absolutely for no. But in this 500-plus-page opus, Adeyemi breaks that particular rule in all the best ways. I'm reminded so much of the best of such writers as N.K. Jemisin, Kate Elliott, and Nnedi Okorafor here...but I think perhaps the greatest influence on Adeyemi must have been Marie Lu's The Young Elites. The parallels between this book and Lu's are as strong as it gets - fantasy kingdom with ruling elites oppressing their people and condemning those with magical abilities to the underest of underclasses, forbidden romance between an up-and-coming magic user and a prince with conflicted loyalties.
My hope for Zélie, though, is that she doesn't come to follow quite the same villainous path that Adelina did in The Rose Society. She very well could, but I'd also like to think that unlike Adelina, Zélie has a stronger support system from the get-go, more anchors to keep herself better rooted morally.
Then again, though, the title for that second book - Children of Virtue and Vengeance - gives me some foreboding feelings about what's next for Zélie and company.
For sure, Children of Blood and Bone is a virtual lock-in for this year's Pinecone Award rankings, just like The Hate U Give was after I first finished reading it almost exactly one year ago. I don't wanna call it as the winner just yet - I did that with King's Cage last year and it wound up in fourth place - but if I did, I'd do so with considerable confidence.
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Monday, April 16, 2018
Review: Genesis
Genesis by Brendan Reichs
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Reichs returns in the middle entry of his gnarly, supernaturally deadly, seriously dangerous Nemesis trilogy. Going forward, I do have to drop major spoilers for Book 1 - or do I? I mean, the dust jacket blurb does a terrific job of not being too spoilery in case someone picks this book up by accident without having read its predecessor.
But I'm not writing dust-jacket copy. I'm writing a review for Genesis and, maybe just a little, hoping it manages to blow up my blog stats a bit and become one of my top 10 posts just like my review for Book 1.
So I'll spoil Book 1 going forward. Just not Book 2, as best I can.
I can tell you that while Genesis does suffer from one or two of its predecessor's same flaws - namely its oddly slow start - being decidedly more post-apocalyptic and Matrix-y than Book 1 is a major help. And also more Maze Runner and Lord of the Flies than ever. Noah and Min are at such odds throughout most of the story that it's downright maddening, and then when various other characters start showing signs of turning morally grey if not outright evil, one has to wonder exactly how far down in the depths of human nature Reichs is willing to plumb. It all plays out in a scarily Hunger Games-like scenario too, where only a certain number of the Fire Lake sophomores can move forward, but then the ending.
That ending.
Reichs, how many times did you read Cixin Liu's books? They must've inspired you a great deal.
Just like the first book, Genesis reads, to me, almost like someone threw my own books into a blender with those of Michael Grant and hit "chop." And I'm totally here for it, especially as long as I keep using Nemesis as a query comp title.
Speaking of which, I need to get back to querying. If you'll excuse me, I'll be back in my cave again. Querying, and maybe writing into my book a shoutout of some kind, just like Reichs shouts out so many other giants like Star Wars and Warcross, to name a few.
View all my reviews
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Reichs returns in the middle entry of his gnarly, supernaturally deadly, seriously dangerous Nemesis trilogy. Going forward, I do have to drop major spoilers for Book 1 - or do I? I mean, the dust jacket blurb does a terrific job of not being too spoilery in case someone picks this book up by accident without having read its predecessor.
But I'm not writing dust-jacket copy. I'm writing a review for Genesis and, maybe just a little, hoping it manages to blow up my blog stats a bit and become one of my top 10 posts just like my review for Book 1.
So I'll spoil Book 1 going forward. Just not Book 2, as best I can.
I can tell you that while Genesis does suffer from one or two of its predecessor's same flaws - namely its oddly slow start - being decidedly more post-apocalyptic and Matrix-y than Book 1 is a major help. And also more Maze Runner and Lord of the Flies than ever. Noah and Min are at such odds throughout most of the story that it's downright maddening, and then when various other characters start showing signs of turning morally grey if not outright evil, one has to wonder exactly how far down in the depths of human nature Reichs is willing to plumb. It all plays out in a scarily Hunger Games-like scenario too, where only a certain number of the Fire Lake sophomores can move forward, but then the ending.
That ending.
Reichs, how many times did you read Cixin Liu's books? They must've inspired you a great deal.
Just like the first book, Genesis reads, to me, almost like someone threw my own books into a blender with those of Michael Grant and hit "chop." And I'm totally here for it, especially as long as I keep using Nemesis as a query comp title.
Speaking of which, I need to get back to querying. If you'll excuse me, I'll be back in my cave again. Querying, and maybe writing into my book a shoutout of some kind, just like Reichs shouts out so many other giants like Star Wars and Warcross, to name a few.
View all my reviews
Sunday, April 15, 2018
Review: Pitch Dark
Pitch Dark by Courtney Alameda
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Reading this book on the same weekend in which I got to finally see A Quiet Place, I thought they paired very well, featuring aliens that hunted by sound and some pretty gnarly body horror. There the similarities kinda end, though, because while A Quiet Place is a straight up horror show without much in the way of humor (if anything), Pitch Dark throws in significant levels of both humor and drama. And also some even stronger social commentary, largely rooted in Laura's part of the story - because she has to deal with a supremely abusive ex-boyfriend who not only forces her to wear a subjugator that lets him digitally control her at all times (if you're like me, then when you learn about the subjugator, you'll run around the room trying to fight off all the Falling Skies harness flashbacks), but said ex also repeatedly pronounces her name in English instead of Spanish. Then he insists he's not at all racist, showing that he's cut from much the same cloth as Hailey from The Hate U Give. In other words, he's either in severe denial or severely pathological a liar. (I'm gonna go with the latter.) I can tell you, though, that thanks to Alameda infusing her #ownvoices experience into Laura, her storyline ends with serious satisfaction, even if it doesn't end in we the readers getting to personally beat Sebastian's head in. Alameda does just as great a job with her other POV lead too. Tuck is oddly lovable, made of complete and utter win and tons of retro movie references, especially to Die Hard. If my buddy Koda ever gets into acting, I hope he gets to play Tuck in the movie of this book - he's the first and only person I fancast for the part. Together with Laura, Tuck takes on a ton of actionized responsibility, a weight they both carry marvelously.
My one hope: I really, really hope this one isn't a standalone. It works pretty well as one, but it'd be such a crime to leave Laura and Tuck and never pick up their story again.
View all my reviews
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Reading this book on the same weekend in which I got to finally see A Quiet Place, I thought they paired very well, featuring aliens that hunted by sound and some pretty gnarly body horror. There the similarities kinda end, though, because while A Quiet Place is a straight up horror show without much in the way of humor (if anything), Pitch Dark throws in significant levels of both humor and drama. And also some even stronger social commentary, largely rooted in Laura's part of the story - because she has to deal with a supremely abusive ex-boyfriend who not only forces her to wear a subjugator that lets him digitally control her at all times (if you're like me, then when you learn about the subjugator, you'll run around the room trying to fight off all the Falling Skies harness flashbacks), but said ex also repeatedly pronounces her name in English instead of Spanish. Then he insists he's not at all racist, showing that he's cut from much the same cloth as Hailey from The Hate U Give. In other words, he's either in severe denial or severely pathological a liar. (I'm gonna go with the latter.) I can tell you, though, that thanks to Alameda infusing her #ownvoices experience into Laura, her storyline ends with serious satisfaction, even if it doesn't end in we the readers getting to personally beat Sebastian's head in. Alameda does just as great a job with her other POV lead too. Tuck is oddly lovable, made of complete and utter win and tons of retro movie references, especially to Die Hard. If my buddy Koda ever gets into acting, I hope he gets to play Tuck in the movie of this book - he's the first and only person I fancast for the part. Together with Laura, Tuck takes on a ton of actionized responsibility, a weight they both carry marvelously.
My one hope: I really, really hope this one isn't a standalone. It works pretty well as one, but it'd be such a crime to leave Laura and Tuck and never pick up their story again.
View all my reviews
Saturday, April 14, 2018
A Quiet Place: The Trials And Tribulations Of The Modern Family, Up To Eleven
***THIS REVIEW CONTAINS MINOR SPOILERS. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.***
Last year, Get Out proved just how brainy a horror movie could be, and I feel like it's helped kick-start something of a horror revival - not the kind of self-aware we got with Scream back in the nineties, the kind that turns into a bit of smarmy and sneery and self-indulgent after a while, but viscerally psychological and supremely timely. 10 Cloverfield Lane was another such great horror movie, released a little over two years ago just like Get Out was released a little over one year ago. Is there some kind of annual clockwork going on? We'll just have to wait and see.
This year, A Quiet Place continues what I'm hoping is a good strong horror revival trend. It ain't perfect - it's got a fair few flaws, and I'm not just talking about how, when confronted with the initial premise, you'll immediately realize that silence, though golden, is damn near impossible to achieve biologically for any human. But for those fair few flaws, it's still very chilling, and beautifully conceived on so many levels, especially acting and writing.
The casting is where A Quiet Place shines the most. It's a minimalist cast, with only seven live humans showing up on screen at any time - up to five of which at any time are the family on which the story centers. One of the Abbott family, I'm sorry to say, dies at the end of the movie's prologue - the youngest son, Beau, who turns on a Space Shuttle toy, and the noise attracts the wicked fast, wicked carnivorous aliens who've taken over the world in this deadly near future. More on Beau later, though. (Bear in mind that none of the family's names are ever revealed throughout the movie - I'm consulting IMDb and Wikipedia for this info.) For the rest of the family, we have parents Lee and Evelyn, played by real-life couple John Krasinski (also director and co-writer and producer) and Emily Blunt (from The Adjustment Bureau and Edge of Tomorrow), and their surviving kids Marcus (Noah Jupe) and Regan (Millicent Simmonds, who's deaf and plays a deaf character - thumbs up for disabled rep!) Having a deaf child gives the family one significant advantage when attempting to survive this post-apocalypse - they're all fluent in ASL and can adapt to make that their first language. The hearing family members, though, tend to noticeably subvocalize as they sign, but they can really only talk when they're near a natural noise source, like the river where Lee and Marcus go at one point to check on their fishing traps.
Of course, what happens when another natural noise source comes into their world? In the form of the baby Evelyn's carrying now, about a year after Beau's death in the prologue. Like, the second you see her caressing her baby bump - and the calendar showing that she's due at the end of the month, only two or three weeks away - you know they're all in for a world of hurt.
It makes sense that there's a lot of paranoid adult fear in this movie - to hear Krasinski tell it, a lot of inspiration for the script came from his and Blunt's parenting anxieties. Still, though, with Beau's death right at the start, and then a long, long, LONG string of alien attacks in the movie's second half, you start to wonder if perhaps this movie comes from the same school of thought as Frank Darabont or Scott Gimple. Like, honestly, I bet Darabont gets a lot of what Vinnie on Alice @ 97.3 would call "inspiration" from the end of the prologue, because between The Blob, The Mist, and The Walking Dead Season 2, Darabont's well-established in my mind as a serial killer of fictional children. And hell, as the alien attacks keep on coming and you start to wonder who's gonna bite the dust, the whole thing starts to feel extremely bleak after a while.
Without getting too spoilery, I can tell you this much: thank God they didn't emulate the ending of The Mist. If they had, and I'd been foolish enough to bring food into this movie, I would've thrown my drink at the screen. (If you don't know, I absolutely HATE The Mist just because of that ending. It's the most bloodydamn horrible ending I've ever seen.)
But they didn't. So, again, thank God.
Perhaps there's also a little to be said about the movie making a little too much use of minimalism too. Nothing against there being such a small handful of credited human actors, or a dearth of dialogue as demanded by the premise (hell, even the ASL dialogue feels like there's not a great deal of it.) But there's a lot of potential backstory just waiting to be explored, and you almost feel like Krasinski's drawing on his comedic background and trolling us viewers, holding out backstory on a fishing line and yanking it away the second we reach for it. Like, Lee lights up a signal flame in one early scene, and the camera pans around the view he sees of the woods all around him, and there's numerous other flames popping up in the distance. Other families of survivors? If so, why do the Abbotts make no effort to meet or connect with them? Why only keep trying, by radio and Morse code, to reach major world cities that have all gone dark for the last year-plus?
But I digress.
Really, while the movie does have its problems that are only too easy to poke a hole in, those writing shortfalls are more than made up for by the strengths of the acting and directing, especially the effective weaponization of sound - or, more often, the lack thereof. For this reason, A Quiet Place earns a B+ from me.
Till next time, Pinecones...
Last year, Get Out proved just how brainy a horror movie could be, and I feel like it's helped kick-start something of a horror revival - not the kind of self-aware we got with Scream back in the nineties, the kind that turns into a bit of smarmy and sneery and self-indulgent after a while, but viscerally psychological and supremely timely. 10 Cloverfield Lane was another such great horror movie, released a little over two years ago just like Get Out was released a little over one year ago. Is there some kind of annual clockwork going on? We'll just have to wait and see.
This year, A Quiet Place continues what I'm hoping is a good strong horror revival trend. It ain't perfect - it's got a fair few flaws, and I'm not just talking about how, when confronted with the initial premise, you'll immediately realize that silence, though golden, is damn near impossible to achieve biologically for any human. But for those fair few flaws, it's still very chilling, and beautifully conceived on so many levels, especially acting and writing.
Pictured: Ms. Blunt acting through what has to be the most nightmarish scene in the whole damn movie. |
The casting is where A Quiet Place shines the most. It's a minimalist cast, with only seven live humans showing up on screen at any time - up to five of which at any time are the family on which the story centers. One of the Abbott family, I'm sorry to say, dies at the end of the movie's prologue - the youngest son, Beau, who turns on a Space Shuttle toy, and the noise attracts the wicked fast, wicked carnivorous aliens who've taken over the world in this deadly near future. More on Beau later, though. (Bear in mind that none of the family's names are ever revealed throughout the movie - I'm consulting IMDb and Wikipedia for this info.) For the rest of the family, we have parents Lee and Evelyn, played by real-life couple John Krasinski (also director and co-writer and producer) and Emily Blunt (from The Adjustment Bureau and Edge of Tomorrow), and their surviving kids Marcus (Noah Jupe) and Regan (Millicent Simmonds, who's deaf and plays a deaf character - thumbs up for disabled rep!) Having a deaf child gives the family one significant advantage when attempting to survive this post-apocalypse - they're all fluent in ASL and can adapt to make that their first language. The hearing family members, though, tend to noticeably subvocalize as they sign, but they can really only talk when they're near a natural noise source, like the river where Lee and Marcus go at one point to check on their fishing traps.
Of course, what happens when another natural noise source comes into their world? In the form of the baby Evelyn's carrying now, about a year after Beau's death in the prologue. Like, the second you see her caressing her baby bump - and the calendar showing that she's due at the end of the month, only two or three weeks away - you know they're all in for a world of hurt.
It makes sense that there's a lot of paranoid adult fear in this movie - to hear Krasinski tell it, a lot of inspiration for the script came from his and Blunt's parenting anxieties. Still, though, with Beau's death right at the start, and then a long, long, LONG string of alien attacks in the movie's second half, you start to wonder if perhaps this movie comes from the same school of thought as Frank Darabont or Scott Gimple. Like, honestly, I bet Darabont gets a lot of what Vinnie on Alice @ 97.3 would call "inspiration" from the end of the prologue, because between The Blob, The Mist, and The Walking Dead Season 2, Darabont's well-established in my mind as a serial killer of fictional children. And hell, as the alien attacks keep on coming and you start to wonder who's gonna bite the dust, the whole thing starts to feel extremely bleak after a while.
Without getting too spoilery, I can tell you this much: thank God they didn't emulate the ending of The Mist. If they had, and I'd been foolish enough to bring food into this movie, I would've thrown my drink at the screen. (If you don't know, I absolutely HATE The Mist just because of that ending. It's the most bloodydamn horrible ending I've ever seen.)
But they didn't. So, again, thank God.
Perhaps there's also a little to be said about the movie making a little too much use of minimalism too. Nothing against there being such a small handful of credited human actors, or a dearth of dialogue as demanded by the premise (hell, even the ASL dialogue feels like there's not a great deal of it.) But there's a lot of potential backstory just waiting to be explored, and you almost feel like Krasinski's drawing on his comedic background and trolling us viewers, holding out backstory on a fishing line and yanking it away the second we reach for it. Like, Lee lights up a signal flame in one early scene, and the camera pans around the view he sees of the woods all around him, and there's numerous other flames popping up in the distance. Other families of survivors? If so, why do the Abbotts make no effort to meet or connect with them? Why only keep trying, by radio and Morse code, to reach major world cities that have all gone dark for the last year-plus?
But I digress.
Really, while the movie does have its problems that are only too easy to poke a hole in, those writing shortfalls are more than made up for by the strengths of the acting and directing, especially the effective weaponization of sound - or, more often, the lack thereof. For this reason, A Quiet Place earns a B+ from me.
Till next time, Pinecones...
#FeedTheRightWolf |
Remember: Denis Leary is always watching. Always. |
Thursday, April 12, 2018
Review: Zenith
Zenith by Sasha Alsberg
My rating: 1 of 5 stars
Ehh...I was still a little hyped up for this one even when the GR rating for it totally tanked. At first, I thought it was just a bit of a bad reaction to a Booktuber getting what appeared to be an easy road to publication, or some kind of misguided punishment aimed at Harlequin Teen because other problematic books. Either way, not really justified, right?
Well, I still think judging the book as harshly as it got judged before its official publication for tangential reasons was unfair.
But the book itself?
Definitely not at all worth the hype or anti-hype. Not when it tries a little too hard to emulate Sarah J. Maas' style - particularly the Throne of Glass style, with short chapters shuffling between multiple POVs and an occasional funny line or memorable reference to some past hookup on some various characters' parts. (Humorously, while this book's about as far removed from Throne of Glass in style as you can get, its main setting is a Spaceship of Glass.) It also suffers from another one of SJM's biggest flaws - a big world map, far bigger than can be explored even in these 500 pages, and no doubt bigger than can be explored in the whole damn series. A trait shared not only with SJM, but with another recent and disappointing space-opera YA, Carve the Mark. Worst of all, despite the high promise, the story utterly failed to hook me like it should have, between the constant time jumps and POV shifts - and when I went ahead and skipped to the end just to see how it ended, it looked to me like it was copying a few of SJM's Mary Sue style moves too. I could be wrong, though.
Either way, I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna try this book again, or continue the rest of the series. Sorry, Cummings and Alsberg.
View all my reviews
My rating: 1 of 5 stars
Ehh...I was still a little hyped up for this one even when the GR rating for it totally tanked. At first, I thought it was just a bit of a bad reaction to a Booktuber getting what appeared to be an easy road to publication, or some kind of misguided punishment aimed at Harlequin Teen because other problematic books. Either way, not really justified, right?
Well, I still think judging the book as harshly as it got judged before its official publication for tangential reasons was unfair.
But the book itself?
Definitely not at all worth the hype or anti-hype. Not when it tries a little too hard to emulate Sarah J. Maas' style - particularly the Throne of Glass style, with short chapters shuffling between multiple POVs and an occasional funny line or memorable reference to some past hookup on some various characters' parts. (Humorously, while this book's about as far removed from Throne of Glass in style as you can get, its main setting is a Spaceship of Glass.) It also suffers from another one of SJM's biggest flaws - a big world map, far bigger than can be explored even in these 500 pages, and no doubt bigger than can be explored in the whole damn series. A trait shared not only with SJM, but with another recent and disappointing space-opera YA, Carve the Mark. Worst of all, despite the high promise, the story utterly failed to hook me like it should have, between the constant time jumps and POV shifts - and when I went ahead and skipped to the end just to see how it ended, it looked to me like it was copying a few of SJM's Mary Sue style moves too. I could be wrong, though.
Either way, I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna try this book again, or continue the rest of the series. Sorry, Cummings and Alsberg.
View all my reviews
Wednesday, April 4, 2018
Review: Blood of a Thousand Stars
Blood of a Thousand Stars by Rhoda Belleza
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I can't believe how much I loved the first book.
I refuse to believe this sequel will be the last.
But apparently it is. And while this final book does provide more than enough closure to its predecessor, it's still...another duology? Really? I'm not a big fan of this particular trend.
But for this pair of books from Rhoda Belleza, she's got a couple of great stories here, loaded with engaging characters, on-point social commentary, and knocks on our overdependence on media in particular. I refer back to my review of Book 1, referring itself to an old car magazine's review of a roomy-interior small car as a "quantum-mechanics grade illusion" - Belleza's got that talent in spades, and Blood of a Thousand Stars continues to showcase it beautifully.
To this duology, I now say ave atque vale and eagerly await any and all future books with which Rhoda Belleza gifts us.
View all my reviews
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I can't believe how much I loved the first book.
I refuse to believe this sequel will be the last.
But apparently it is. And while this final book does provide more than enough closure to its predecessor, it's still...another duology? Really? I'm not a big fan of this particular trend.
But for this pair of books from Rhoda Belleza, she's got a couple of great stories here, loaded with engaging characters, on-point social commentary, and knocks on our overdependence on media in particular. I refer back to my review of Book 1, referring itself to an old car magazine's review of a roomy-interior small car as a "quantum-mechanics grade illusion" - Belleza's got that talent in spades, and Blood of a Thousand Stars continues to showcase it beautifully.
To this duology, I now say ave atque vale and eagerly await any and all future books with which Rhoda Belleza gifts us.
View all my reviews
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