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This one goes on my "doesn't feel right to rate" shelf. If I were to rate this memoir, which chronicles Gay's sexual assault and subsequent weight gain, it would almost feel like I would be rating her experience or her body in some way.

Writing-wise, however, I wish that this memoir was condensed substantially. I found the last half to be very repetitive (a rhetorical device, I think, but not one that made things more poignant for me).

I am conflicted. I love one half of this series, and absolutely hate the other. How can something be so subversive in its portrayal of women and at the same time be so sexist?

The series follows two women named Nana through their romantic escapades and their friendship. Both women move to Tokyo, become roommates, and we learn about their separate backgrounds.

I love Nana O’s storyline. I want to be her friend. She’s an edgy rock star with a really great romance plot. She’s independent and tries to make her own way in the world.

Unfortunately, both Nana K’s views of the world and romantic life are seriously harmful. (“Only guys can have sex when they’re not in love”? Seriously?) Her entire motive for living is to find a boyfriend, and she’s completely defined by her past romantic relationships. She’s also super obnoxious.

So I have a hard time reconciling these two conflicting themes. Feminism and anti feminism side by side? Wtf?

Ugh. 4 stars, I guess.

I don't feel right rating - or even reviewing - a Holocaust memoir. A survivor's account of something so horrific shouldn't be able to be reduced to a rating or a few paragraphs.

I finished this volume on the same day that I started and finished Elie Wiesel's Night. While I've noticed FMA's allusions to Nazi Germany in the anime before, I was hyper aware of them while reading the source material. Human experimentation, genocide, eugenics, and the rise of facism are all highlighted. It's a heartbreaking allegory of human suffering and people's responses to grief.

Yes, FMA is a shounen manga. It's also a critical piece of literature.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood is one of my favourite anime of all time. So I figured I owed it to myself to read the source material. I love that the (arguably) most popular shounen of all time is written by a woman. She gives voices to female characters that too often are left on the sidelines. They become powerful, well-rounded people who stand up for themselves and are heroes in their own right. There's not much of that in this first volume, but I hope that subsequent ones will as well, just like the anime does. At least the treatment of Rose in the manga isn't as terrible as in the first anime adaptation.

Like other manga I've read in comparison to their anime counterparts ([b:Princess Jellyfish, Tome 1|13354244|Princess Jellyfish, Tome 1|Akiko Higashimura|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1327311150s/13354244.jpg|14532562], for instance), the franchise's humour comes across a lot better on paper. Where I sometimes find Edward over-the-top and grating in the anime, he's really charming and funny in the manga. I think this has a lot to do with lack of sound. I hear the voice actors from the anime in my head instead of out loud. Arakawa's art and writing speaks for itself, here.

With that said, this series flourishes best when it is dramatic, emotional, and epic in scope. This first volume is fairly episodic and nearly self-contained in comparison to the rest of the series, so it doesn't quite get there. It gets close with flashes of brief backstory, but the rest feels a bit inconsequential and introductory. The short nature of manga volumes makes them difficult to rate; there has to be an introduction of characters and set-up, just like the first few chapters of a novel. Otherwise, there would be no basis for the drama and poignancy later on. Ah, well. This is how the story is broken up, and I can't rate the entire series in a big chunk like on MyAnimeList, so that's how it goes.

I last read The Half-Blood Prince when I was sixteen, so it's not surprising that my opinions about it have changed. More specifically, my views on characterization have changed a lot. Let's break it down. *Warning,* mild spoilers ahead.

Harry: He's a lot more likeable in this novel than in previous instalments. He's more mature, he's funny, and he takes his "destiny" into his own hands. He's a protagonist that I actually like (unlike in previous novels, where he's pretty dull and depends on others around him to do anything useful).

Voldy: The insight we're given into Tom Riddle's background makes this book the best in the series. I used to say that the Goblet of Fire was my fave. Not anymore. Riddle is a really scary, three-dimensional villain. I loved seeing his transformation from a good looking child, teen, and young man into an inhuman shell of himself. Rowling's description of him visiting Dumbledore in the office, all waxen and blood-shot, had my hair standing on end. I'm not sure how I missed the genius of it the first time around.

Dumbly: FINALLY we get to see more of Dumbledore. The characterization of him in this novel is fantastic. He's funny and lighthearted, but powerful enough to be scary. We learn more about what he does when he's outside of Hogwarts, and it's not very pleasant. The Cave scene was scary enough that I shelved this novel under "horror." I'm really bitter about the ending. Bitter and sad.

Snape: I used to love Snape. I don't know why; it's probably because it was the unpopular opinion, and I wanted to be different. Even with the reveal of his heartbreaking background in The Deathly Hallows, Snape acts like an angsty teen who lashes out for no reason (kind of like Sirius, actually, another character I used to be very attached to). He's emotionally abusive, and even his feelings for Lily and hatred toward James and Sirius don't make his behaviour okay.

Malfoy: Like Snape, I used to romanticize Draco's behaviour. Yes, I pity him. He comes from a really tough background, and is thrown into a darker life than he wants. I still don't condone the ruthless bullying that Harry had to endure for the 5.5 years before we learn about his internal struggles.

Hermione: She's really annoying in this one, which is a pity. She's normally one of my favourites.

Ginny: Teenage me really disliked the relationship between her and Harry. I'm baffled at this now. Ginny is really funny, lovely character, and I'm glad we saw more of her in this novel than in previous ones.

Hagrid: I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I didn't care for him. He's not as fleshed out as some of the other cast. In comparison to the backgrounds of Dumbledore and Riddle, he feels flat and almost caricature-like.

If I had so many issues with some of the characters, then why is this my (now) favourite Harry Potter novel? Because it has all of the immersive qualities of its predecessors, but with added depth. It exits the lane of popcorn lit and into the realm of psychological exploration.

I'm a millennial who grew up alongside Harry. These books are what made me fall in love with literature, were my escape from an unhappy adolescence, and they mean more to me than any other pieces of literature. The last time I read this novel, I was curled up in bed in my room, feeling a lot like Harry himself - alienated and vulnerable, grouchy and socially incompetent. It's impossible for me to be objective, here. I'm not sure what I would rate these novels if so much of myself wasn't wrapped up in them. I kind of feel like I'm looking at myself through the other end of The Mirror of Erised (okay, my life isn't that idealistic, but adulthood looks pretty damn good in comparison).

No, these books aren't perfect. Harry is a tempermental toad, for one (especially in The Order of the Phoenix, good lord, the teenage angst). But the characters apparate in front of me whenever I open the pages. When Rowling descibes Hogwarts, it feels like I'm entering the same headspace as my teenage self, where I made another home for myself. It was lovely to be back.

"I am malicious because I am miserable; am I not shunned and hated by all of mankind? You, my creator, would tear me to pieces, and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me?"

😢

I'm halfway convinced that Naomi Novik wrote this novel just for me. It was AMAZING.

It had so many things that I love. It had a great magic system that embraced both whimsicality and darkness. It had adventure, comedy, and romance. The excellently crafted world building never felt tedious, and its characters were believable and memorable (who doesn't love a grumpy anti-villain in a romance plot?). It also wasn't afraid to shy away from sex or brutality.

This wasn't mindless escapist fiction - Don't get me wrong, I was happy to escape there, but it wasn't afraid to challenge the world it was escaping from. It didn't blatantly reinforce norms of the real world under the guise of giving the reader something "different" like some fantasy novels are prone to do. ("There's magic! But let's just keep everything else the same anyway!") It's representation of women was @#$&ing fantastic. There were meaningful relationships between women. Women being warriors, teachers, and peacemakers. Women feeling unapologetically sexual (and not being shamed for it). And the female lead isn't a fair maiden, locked in a tower. Much to her captor's chagrin.

AHHHH this was the best novel I have read in a LONG time. It was so good that I'm raving in capital letters and swearing in ampersands and dollar signs. It was thrilling and satisfying, and kept me glued to my bed for two days. Now I have to deal with the fact that I have to get back up.

3.5 stars, rounded down.

If it weren't for Six of Crows, this novel wouldn't have been nearly as successful. That might sound obvious; It's a sequel. But this book relies far too much on its prequel's work. That was fine, for me, some of the time, but I often found myself bored. Much of the cast became static (especially Nina and Matthias), relying on back stories from the first novel.

Kaz and Inej, though. INEJ, one of my favourite heroines OF ALL TIME. She propelled me through until the end. And while I really think the novel needed more Kaz chapters (or at least some more of his introspection - the opportunity for some fantastic development was there), the development of their relationship was still worth waiting for. Even if it moved along at an excrutiating pace. And even if it was ridiculously tame.

The twist at the end, written to jerk my heart strings, made me feel nothing. I wish I had, but I think it's because there was little character development carried over from the first installment.

But still, this novel continued with characters that I loved - CLIMB, INEJ - and I still enjoyed my time spent with them. I'll take all I can get.

A bit too much like torture porn for me.

Edit: 4.5 stars, rounded up, not down. I haven't stopped thinking about this graphic novel since I read it. I'm putting it on my favourites shelf.
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Original review:

Grotesque, sexy, romantic, and horrific. A compelling and tragic metaphor for youth, alienation, and suppressed sexuality.

The plot wasn't quite cohesive enough for me to give it 5 stars. That's it - I loved everything else.

This graphic novel is centered around gender. Unfortunately, it's also sexist.

Redeemed up to 2 stars, though, because the beginning was 😲

4.5 stars, rounded up.
When I started this novel, I was skeptical. The blurb said it was a YA fantasy heist. It kind of sounded like a gimmick.

I shouldn't have worried; I was spellbound. Think of a mash-up of Ocean's Eleven and [b:The Lies of Locke Lamora|127455|The Lies of Locke Lamora (Gentleman Bastard, #1)|Scott Lynch|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1386924569s/127455.jpg|2116675], but in a YA context. Then throw in some romance, an intriguing magic system, and some seriously amazing female characters to the mix. Plus, the protagonist is an antihero. The characters were vivid, memorable, and treated with care. I cheered for their relationships and victories.

I haven't been able to sleep for two days because of the racing thoughts and palpitations this novel has given me. Which is probably why I'm writing this (probably incoherent) review at 2 in the morning.

"The best change you can make is to hold up a mirror so that people can look into it and change themselves. That's the only way a person can be changed."

Picture [b:American Gods|30165203|American Gods|Neil Gaiman|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1462924585s/30165203.jpg|1970226] if it were bird-themed, set in the nineties, and every character was obsessed with art. Voila, we have Charles de Lint’s Someplace to be Flying.

The folklore is outstanding, the shifts between voices are believable, and although I wouldn't qualify de Lint's style as page-turning, it is immersive. The slow burn of the narrative allows the reader to become engrossed in a world that feels relatable and believable, and so when magic manifests, it's surprising. We discover things with the characters, which is really exciting.

I wouldn't recommend this novel to someone who has never read de Lint before, or at least to someone who hadn't read other novels set in the Newford universe. While the Newford books are not meant to be read chronologically (their characters intersect, but not in any linear fashion), Someplace to be Flying has a large and complex cast of characters. I've read three of de Lint's other Newford books, and I was still overwhelmed.

That's my main critique. While I found many of the characters to be incredibly compelling, they felt
kind of like gems in a pile of rocks: reading through so many (and often mundane) perspectives felt like work, and the remarkable characters were muted by comparison. Jack Daw's backstory, for example, is both illuminating and heartbreaking. For that chapter alone, I would award this novel 5 stars. But with so much time spent on less-interesting characters like Rory, Hank, Lily, and Kerry, the poignant moments of the novel were weighed down. I understand that de Lint is creating an entire city, here. A community of complex characters that each have their own back stories in different novels. The problem is, while each of their perspectives can be (and were) highlighted, it doesn't mean that they should have been. Doing so is too ambitious for one novel.

But even with having too many characters to focus on, I can't give this novel less than 4 stars. I think of characters like Cody, Raven, Maida, and Zia, and I know I won't forget them for a long time. Maybe ever. Because they're vivid and complex and I wish the novel could have devoted pages and pages more for each of their perspectives. This is where this review doubles in on itself: I want more of what I'm criticizing most. I want perspectives from the characters I like. I know that other readers will find other perspectives more compelling than I did (I didn't connect with the Kerry/Katy plotline or the Hank/Lily stuff), but I can definitely see how others would. Hell, those were the main characters.

Somehow I'm always falling in love with characters on the sidelines.

The first half had such a strong concept. Second half, not so much.