"Sourcery" by Terry Pratchett

A story of wizards in Discworld when a “sourceror” emerges - someone who can harness the enormous power of the very source of magic. And, of course, power corrupts. When the use of such powerful magic starts to unravel reality itself, it is up to our collection of unwilling and accidental anti-heroes to save the day.

The hapless wizard Rincewind, mainstay of the first two Discworld novels, is one of the central characters. He is quickly joined by Conina the Hairdresser, who is surprisingly handy with a sword (and anything else that could possibly be construed as a weapon). Amongst the supporting cast, a few old favourites make an appearance: the Luggage, the Librarian, and, of course Death.

If this had been my first Terry Pratchett book, I’m not sure I’d be inclined to read any more. This might be because I’m not especially engaged with the wizards as a set of characters (including Rincewind himself), and this may be why I also didn’t really enjoy The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic. To me, there’s nothing inherently enlightening, funny, or relatable about the wizards: they are selfish, lazy, privileged, beaurocratic, and stuffy - and Pratchett’s undoubted skill at injecting humour into their characters only really brings my opinion back up to ambivalence.

Not only does this story suffer from featuring the wizards, but it features the worst aspects of their character - so the rest of the book was going to have to do some heavy lifting for me to enjoy it. Unfortunately, the other aspects of Pratchett’s style and storytelling didn’t tip the balance for me. In fact, the redeeming qualities I would have otherwise expected in Pratchett’s writing also seemed to be subdued, and I found myself only rarely chuckling at the kind of concisely funny turn of phrase that Pratchett usually turns out in abundance.

It felt very much like he was tired, or fulfiling a contractual obligation, or just having a bad day.

I do love the Librarian, though. How you can get so much emotion from an orangutan who can only say “Oook” (or occasionally “Eeek”) is a testament to Pratchett’s writing.

My rating: ★★☆☆☆

“Everyone I Know is Dying” by Emily Slapper

Trigger warning: suicide ideation.

This is a very difficult for me to review. On the one hand this is a very accomplished, intense, authentic and powerful portrayal of someone struggling with significant mental health issues in the context of the societal and peer pressures that young women face. And I say that with no authority, as I’m not a young woman, but that’s how it seems to me. And on the other hand, I found reading it a chore. My rating is for the quality and importance of the book that I believe that it is. And I’m attributing my lack of enjoyment down to me being the wrong audience.

Is that fair? I don’t know. It is what it is.

The book is essentially in two parts: the first part (the first 34 chapters, or roughly 90%) is an incredibly raw portrayal of the day-to-day struggles of Iris, a young woman trying to understand what happiness is, whilst searching for it in the reflected judgement of others; the second part (the final 3 chapters) is the resolution. The resolution was exactly what I expected it to be, but also the only thing it possibly could be - and is also totally fitting, given what I believe the author is trying to say.

The main body of the book is a brave, difficult, genuine, and very difficult portrayal of Iris grappling with her sense of self, identity, and worth. She sees herself only in the reaction she gets from other people; she has no genuine friendships; she is not her authentic self.

“I can’t understand why people don’t like to be seen as objects when to be seen as an object is to be desired. This is why I keep coming back”

She knows that there is something lacking in her life, and she persistently misidentifies it, bouncing from one potential source of happiness to another.

“It’s disconcerting when you realise that getting what you want doesn’t make you feel better”

There is an audience for this book, and it isn’t me. That’s not to say that I didn’t get anything from reading it - rather that there was no part of me that could identify with anything that Iris was going through. All I could really do was feel sorry for her. Perhaps I got a deeper understanding of the internal struggle related to certain types of mental health issue. But for that I need to totally rely on the authenticity of what the author is portraying (which I have no reason to doubt) rather than being able to draw on any of my own experience.

Reading the comments about this book from other reviewers makes it clear that there is an audience for this book - people who can directly relate to some of the struggles that Iris had. In the reviews I have read, there are more comments from people who directly relate to Iris, at least in some small part, than from those who don’t. And for those people, I have a sense that the portrayal of Iris has a resonance, depth, and meaning.

If I could relate to Iris, this would probably be a 5-star read. If I were to give a rating solely on my personal, subjective enjoyment of the book, it is a 3-star read. What’s a reviewer to do?

Thank you #NetGalley and HQ for the free review copy of #EveryoneIKnowisDying in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

My rating: ★★★★☆

NetGalley review

“Inside the Mind of Sherlock Holmes” by Cyril Lieron

This is a beautiful, detailed and intricate graphic novel of an original Sherlock Holmes story. The art style was meticulous, and showed a real love of the material. Victorian London is superbly represented, and it carried a sense of mystery and untold things happening behind closed doors all the way through the book. The storytelling was excellent, and the pacing was spot on. I absolutely loved it.

My experience with Holmes is limited and mixed: the only book I have read is Hound of the Baskervilles, which I didn’t get on with; but I absolutely love the TV adaptation with Benedict Cumberbatch playing the part of Holmes. I never understood how Holmes can be so engaging, interesting, and a deductive genius in the TV adaptation, but come across as arrogant and supercilious in the book. Thankfully, the Holmes in this graphic novel comes across as the deductive genius I love so much in the TV adaptation - slightly irascible and impatient at times, but always one step ahead.

The blurb says that the book “uniquely portrays the inner workings of the greatest detective’s mind” and “every thought and clue that flows through Sherlock’s mind is thoroughly explored and displayed in the art for readers to latch onto” and it absolutely delivers on this. At several points through the book, we see inside Holmes’ “mind palace”, where he analyses the clues that he’s uncovered up to that point. In between these, the clues are represented on a visual “thread” that runs throughout the entire book, on which various clues and deductions are placed as they turn up. It’s an excellent use of the graphic novel format to show the progression of clues and their relationships. Together, these techniques allow the development of the clues and deductions to be easily followed, and I felt like I was along for the ride.

The artwork is absolutely gorgeous - fantastic use of maps of London, and incredibly atmospheric locations. I loved the use of repetition across panels (and often within the same panel) to show movement and the passage of time (I tried to find a technical term for this, and I’m not sure there is one… polyptych?).

There is a dedication to Peter Cushing at the front of the book, and the depiction of Holmes is clearly on homage to Peter Cushing’s portrayal of Holmes in the 1960’s TV adaptation. A lovely touch.

Six stars, rounded down to five.

Thank you #NetGalley and Titan Books for the free review copy of #InsideTheMindofSherlockHolmes in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

My rating: ★★★★★

NetGalley review

“Mort” by Terry Pratchett

I will always enjoy Terry Pratchett’s character of Death, but I would have preferred him as a main rather than supporting character in this serviceable but unremarkable Discworld story.

Death decides to take on an apprentice, and chooses Mortimer, Mort, or simply “Boy”. While Death takes advantage of having an apprentice by having some well earned “me time” amongst normal folk, Mort engages in some unsurprising hormone-driven hijinx, as an obvious consequence of being an adolescent without the self-control to handle the power he’s been given.

The plot is amiable, and the pacing is perfect. But the central adventure has all the hallmarks of the kind of YA that I don’t enjoy - characterised mainly by a lack of sophistication in the main character. There are also a couple of plot glitches around the character of Ysabell: why Death is essentially imprisoning her; and, an infeasible instant emotional about-face at one point. And, for me, this would be languishing in 2-star territory were it not for the richness and inventiveness of the world-building, Pratchett’s writing style (I always enjoy his tone and turn of phrase), and, of course Death, who is marvellous, and loves cats. Oh yes, and Binky.