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oyceterI actually finished both of these a few weeks ago, after reading them in bits and pieces over a month or so. For some reason, neither book really caught me.
With The Porcelain Dove, I admired what Sherman was doing, and I liked seeing the influence of the conte de fee (horrendous spelling), but in the end, I had a really, really hard time getting into the book because I disliked the characters so much. I didn't even despise them as characters (like my strange antipathy toward Vaughn, for example). I was just put off by the lot of them -- Adele was a ninny, as was Justin, the older boy was sadistic and cruel, and Adele's husband wasn't much better. So because I was a bit dismayed by Adele's behavior, I never was really able to get into the mind of the narrator, who adores her (with an ability to see her weak points, but adores nonetheless). The only characters I did kind of like were Pompey, who wasn't really focused on, and Linnotte, who Berthe didn't like, which also rubbed off. And then Linnotte (sp) had to do something horrible to free her dreadful family from their curse and ends up being completely exiled!
I think I also had a problem with the structure of the book -- it begins so we know the family and their estate has somehow been removed from the world and time, suspended in some sort of fairyland. And since none of the family seems particularly happy with this arrangement, I guess I started wondering if halfway through the book Berthe would finish her story so they could figure out how to rejoin the world. Instead, Berthe narrates how they got there.
I have a feeling I'm getting more and more sensitive to these things in books -- I find it very hard to read on if there isn't anyone I can identify with. Also, if the worldview feels too bleak or depressing without anything good redeeming it or casting it into a different light, I have a hard time continuing: ex. George R. R. Martin. LotR and Tigana and the Kushiel series and the Assassin series, while dark, still have that spark of good in the human characters despite horrifically dark times, and that's what makes me hang on to the books.
I think this is also the problem I had with The Cygnet and the Firebird. Heh, I feel horrible confessing this, but I'm not that much of a McKillip fan. I loved her Forgotten Beasts of Eld and Winter Rose, but I don't really remember the Book of Atrix Wolfe or this book. Sometimes her lush prose can distance me a little too much from the emotions of the story. Also, sometimes I just get confused in general as to what is going on in terms of action. And while I didn't dislike Nyx or Meg and company in this book, as I did in Porcelain Dove, I didn't have much on them to hook onto. I was also really confused because I hadn't read the earlier book, which I suspect is about Nyx being found by her mother or something.
On the other hand, there were some things that I really did like: that Meg loved the gatekeeper and didn't fall for the mythical firebird creature. I loved the description of the firebird and his despair in not accessing his memory. I loved how McKillip and Meg were able to describe the firebird's cry.
With The Porcelain Dove, I admired what Sherman was doing, and I liked seeing the influence of the conte de fee (horrendous spelling), but in the end, I had a really, really hard time getting into the book because I disliked the characters so much. I didn't even despise them as characters (like my strange antipathy toward Vaughn, for example). I was just put off by the lot of them -- Adele was a ninny, as was Justin, the older boy was sadistic and cruel, and Adele's husband wasn't much better. So because I was a bit dismayed by Adele's behavior, I never was really able to get into the mind of the narrator, who adores her (with an ability to see her weak points, but adores nonetheless). The only characters I did kind of like were Pompey, who wasn't really focused on, and Linnotte, who Berthe didn't like, which also rubbed off. And then Linnotte (sp) had to do something horrible to free her dreadful family from their curse and ends up being completely exiled!
I think I also had a problem with the structure of the book -- it begins so we know the family and their estate has somehow been removed from the world and time, suspended in some sort of fairyland. And since none of the family seems particularly happy with this arrangement, I guess I started wondering if halfway through the book Berthe would finish her story so they could figure out how to rejoin the world. Instead, Berthe narrates how they got there.
I have a feeling I'm getting more and more sensitive to these things in books -- I find it very hard to read on if there isn't anyone I can identify with. Also, if the worldview feels too bleak or depressing without anything good redeeming it or casting it into a different light, I have a hard time continuing: ex. George R. R. Martin. LotR and Tigana and the Kushiel series and the Assassin series, while dark, still have that spark of good in the human characters despite horrifically dark times, and that's what makes me hang on to the books.
I think this is also the problem I had with The Cygnet and the Firebird. Heh, I feel horrible confessing this, but I'm not that much of a McKillip fan. I loved her Forgotten Beasts of Eld and Winter Rose, but I don't really remember the Book of Atrix Wolfe or this book. Sometimes her lush prose can distance me a little too much from the emotions of the story. Also, sometimes I just get confused in general as to what is going on in terms of action. And while I didn't dislike Nyx or Meg and company in this book, as I did in Porcelain Dove, I didn't have much on them to hook onto. I was also really confused because I hadn't read the earlier book, which I suspect is about Nyx being found by her mother or something.
On the other hand, there were some things that I really did like: that Meg loved the gatekeeper and didn't fall for the mythical firebird creature. I loved the description of the firebird and his despair in not accessing his memory. I loved how McKillip and Meg were able to describe the firebird's cry.