The story is slight, but amusing. I actually could not tell if the boy saved himself with his “math homework” or not, even after a close look at the pictures.
Kibuishi’s illustrations are fantastic, as always.
So many delightful references to Northanger Abbey! The guest room, the necklace, the Bertrams, the ball…and also the classism, bigotry, misogyny, and injustice.
Funke and Liv’s stories are riveting, heartbreaking, infuriating, and thoughtful by turns. Was it harder to be black in the UK, or a woman in Nigeria? is it easier to be wealthy in Nigeria, or landed in England? The clear societal preference for boys over girls in both cultures was disturbing and depressing.
The reunion of the two storylines is executed perfectly. I swear the author was teasing the reader with the leisurely pace.
I went back and forth between the print and audiobook versions of this. The narrator was wonderful.
I think this one just caught me at a bad time. I really liked the premise, but the present tense narration and the blow-by-blow battle scenes that stretch for pages and pages weren’t what I was looking for right now. Perhaps I’ll pick it up again later.
The author created such a dark and lovely connection between an family and the natural world. But their magical power combined with the very real tangle of family loyalties and addiction made it doubly infuriating that the events of the story revolve around a second accusation of abuse against a pedophile. If the rough justice of the Buck women was such a force for good, why on earth wasn’t it handed out first time round? Did the supernatural vigilantes need Lee’s eyewitness account? What about the eyewitness account of the first victim?
Lee saw a man sexually abusing a girl. She later tells Belva she is sure about what she has seen. Why the actual fuck did she not take off into the woods and try to stop it? Why didn’t she go to the police, to the school, or make an anonymous report if her family situation made her somehow suspect? Make a ruckus, ram the gate, go on foot, see if anybody had a cell phone? Why not tell Belva and the authorities?
Men escape the legal and social consequences for their sexual abuse of young girls all the damn time. If you can magically prevent a predator from attacking again, why not do it the first time he strikes?
This was right up my alley. The depictions of humankind, or Mofos, as the crow narrator calls them, are sublime and ridiculous, rueful but loving. There were some pacing issues, especially as the story begins and also in the finale, but the book was delightful and emotionally satisfying.
This is a slow-paced, gentle story, but one that doesn’t flinch from hard truths. I found the free verse hard going at first, but discovered the deliberate pace was an excellent match for the oral history aspects to the story.
This graphic novel features watercolor illustrations that showcase the beauty of Kodi’s habitat. It’s a comforting, sweet choice for the lower elementary grades.
The pros? Some genuinely tense and exciting moments, and a labyrinthine plot. Unfortunately these aspects are largely outweighed by the negatives: the angst of the sexy, broody, secretive twenty-somethings, some stupendously banal dialogue and improbable character motivations, and a style that is all surface. The abrupt ending was super annoying.
The way the six main characters neatly paired up into three couples made me yearn to introduce them to a dating app. And some really good therapists.