Jan-e > Recent Status Updates

Good grief, I didn't think I could loathe Reese even more. I honestly do not understand how anybody could stand being around her, let alone entrust her with a child. Despicable!

Okay, it's not too early to say that I thoroughly despise Reese. She's not without redeeming qualities, but these cannot compensate for the stuff that triggers my intense dislike.

The novel clearly grows on me: the sense of discomfort has switched gears and now applies to descriptions of existing as a trans person, which prompts me to examine my own life - especially all the repressed parts.

I'm not certain this book is my "vibe". So far, all of the protagonists give me a strong feeling of... well, not dislike, but a sense of unease, of not relating. Like talking to a person and finding you've got nothing to talk about, despite similar interests. Pretty damning for this kind of novel, but I won't give up yet.

Before reading this, I feared for the worst: not just a lazily re-skinned Harry Potter/Handmaid's tale fanfic, but "sexy bad boy" BS. Neither proved true, to my pleasant surprise.

I want to love this book, but cannot. It's like a bad date: the sex feels mechanical and joyless, the conversation is stilted and feels like a constant membership test for cultural capital as it existed in the queer scene thirty years ago, and things are just aimlessly meandering without showing any kind of direction or plot. I wanted contemporary Orlando, but no: just sex interspersed with pop culture trivia.

Ich mag die Prämisse, aber finde keine Spannungskurve. Die Handlung mäandert gleichförmig dahin, ohne zu überraschen. Selbst größere Ereignisse plätschern so dahin.

The novel found its stride and has me thoroughly invested. Like most of Kuang's protagonists, Alice and Peter are complex (and not always likeable) characters.

Erudite, intertextual - but I feel that the scathing commentary on academia takes precedence over plot and characters to a certaon degree

It doesn't re-invent the vampire genre, but it's a genuinely good, queer meditation on mortality, norality and much else; reminiscent of Anne Rice's early "Vampire Chronicles", before they became filled with bizarre detours about hell and Atlantis.

This is such an important testimony, especially for a perpetually half-cracked egg like me, but I still stumble at the constant reference to "ketchup chips". It reads as if this was Elliot's whole diet in his childhood and youth.