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rainwatersparkThe Winner's Curse by Marie Rutkoski
Here's a little background on me:
If you tell me there's a book full of feels, my first reaction is "Sign me up." Angst? The more, the merrier. I eat up angst for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. Tense interpersonal drama between two main characters who grow close despite their differences? I am all about that kind of stuff.
These were the kinds of descriptions glowing reviews threw around for The Winner's Curse. Saying it did not live up to the hype would be an understatement.
My main issue with the book was simply that it was dull. Dull from a writing standpoint, dull from a romance standpoint. This book's writing reminded me of fanfiction—by which I don't mean that the writing was atrocious, but the writing would break off into small, short chunks that would end a little abruptly. There were a few nice poetic descriptions, but mostly the writing was a sea of blandness. Not terrible, not great. Just meh.
And the romance, oh jeez, the romance.
I can't really tolerate a book that's entirely about romance unless the author can write the hell out of a romance. Sadly, most fanfiction seems to do it better than published fiction, and The Winner's Curse isn't an exception. My main issue was that I just couldn't figure out why the flipping hell Kestrel and Arin fell for each other. Arin has a (justifiable) grudge against all Valorians. I don't mind hot-and-cold love interests, but Arin was about 90% anger, 10%...less anger. Kestrel rebels against Valorian tradition but in a kind of indecisive, mopey way. She bought Arin because she thought he could sing, except he couldn't, so it wasn't even like they bonded over music (which is her one passion).
So...why???
I know it was supposedly 100 pages of buildup to their romance, but it still felt to me like halfway through the book it was suddenly "BAM, we're in love now!" I could sort of see it from Kestrel's perspective, but I was utterly baffled as to why Arin was suddenly "I'm in love with you, Kestrel!"
I was so apathetic about the two of them that by the time the action started happening—rebellion/revolution/warfare—I just didn't care anymore and skipped to the end, which was supposed to be super angsty but wasn't particularly noteworthy to me because I STILL DIDN'T CARE ABOUT ARIN AND KESTREL.
Other random notes:
- The first part of the book felt very much like a regency period piece, as it was mostly about Kestrel going to balls and picking dresses and chafing against the rules, etc. Nothing wrong with that kind of plot, it just...wasn't what I was expecting.
- I was sad that Kestrel, despite being a famous general's daughter, was shown as being terrible at fighting. I mean, yeah, okay, I like reading about characters who are smart as much as the next reader, but what's wrong with a badass female fighter who's ALSO smart? Sigh.
- Someone on Goodreads had a long rant about how slavery was portrayed in the book: here. I sort of assumed the slavery in this book was more like Roman slavery, which I don't know that much about anyway, so I don't have much to say myself.
.
I used to say I didn't like romance. Technically, that wasn't entirely true, because I enjoyed Jane Austen and I enjoyed romance when it was a side plot. And then last year, I realized it really wasn't true, because even though most of the time I hate romance when I read about it in other people's books, I get really really excited about it and invested in it when I'm writing it myself.
Unfortunately, I feel like that's just aggravated my already low tolerance for subpar romance in fiction.
Because I know what it feels like to get excited about a romance, so when I read one that bores me, I get really frustrated. I feel like the author has to know how to do better. Romance lives or dies based on the two characters as individuals and how they interact together, why they should be together, and I just can't understand how you can write an entire book that turns on romance if the romantic leads don't have some sort of spark or chemistry or deeply compelling reason to value each other's company. Superficial action is, at the very least, mindless entertainment. A soulless romance, on the other hand, is torture to read.
.
Hurt by Tabitha Suzuma
(Trigger warning for the book: sexual assault)
I've heard that this author writes beautifully, so I decided to check this book out, and maybe she wrote beautifully for another book but this one was not a good showcase of beautiful writing.
There was so. Much. Telling. There were paragraphs full of detail that didn't actually paint a vivid picture in my mind, just drowned me in words instead.
Another thing that really aggravated me was that the teenagers in this book didn't talk like teenagers at all. Protagonist Mattéo and his girlfriend, Lola, talked like a 30-year-old couple in a soap opera rather than two sixteen-year-olds. Seriously, NO teenaged couple unironically uses words like "my darling" and "sweetheart" to refer to each other. And, I'm sorry, but no matter how sweet a teenaged romance is, you're not going to convince me that the feelings two high school students have for each other can transcend to epic love and soulmate status. Just no.
I'm not going to comment on the trauma part of the book. I did like the way the author portrayed Mattéo as desperately trying to function as normal, and being somewhat okay at that but also clearly torn up by what happened to him. There were a couple of things I wanted to talk about under a cut, though.
(Warning: spoilers and content note: sexual assault)
- There's one part where Lola and Mattéo are about to have sex and Mattéo suddenly has some sort of traumatic panic attack and tries to get Lola to stop, but Lola doesn't stop, and so he shoves her away and her shoulder hits a wall. Then they both act like it's completely his fault for injuring her.
Yeah...no. He explicitly told Lola to stop and she didn't listen to him. That's full-on sexual assault territory. It doesn't matter that she didn't know about his trauma at the time and he ended up hurting her in his attempt to get her to stop, no always means no.
- Lola's suicide at the end of the book made me go WTF. It just seemed way too extreme and melodramatic (as did the entirety of Mattéo and Lola's relationship throughout the book). So she couldn't live with knowing her father was a rapist...and that "she had his blood"...and somehow thought that killing herself would help Mattéo heal...? Um...? I don't really see it.
*Edit: Upon later reconsideration, I think there's another thing that bothers me about this book (a lot), given that books about male victims of sexual assault are still really rare, and it's this: While straight men who are sexually assaulted by queer men definitely exist, I am extremely wary of the fact that Hurt focuses on this particular angle, because it's unfortunately tied in with harmful predatory stereotypes about queer men that have historically been wielded for homophobic purposes. Again, this is a particular problem because so few books about male sexual assault victims exist at this point. And while we're not given a reason as for why Mattéo's rapist raped him—i.e. we don't know whether he was queer, whether he raped Mattéo because he was attracted to him or just because he wanted to dominate/hurt him—that's also kind of the problem, because it's not unreasonable for a reader to assume that Mattéo's rapist was attracted to him, and that just demonizes and pathologizes same-sex attraction. In this case, it's doubly problematic given that Mattéo is a minor (unfortunately linking queer men to pedophilia, another homophobic argument with a long history of use). These implications could have been mitigated if there were other queer characters besides the rapist, if Mattéo himself was queer, and/or Mattéo's rapist's motive is explicitly explained as not due to attraction but due to cruelty/power, but that's not the case, so we're left with the unfortunate homophobic undercurrents.
Here's a little background on me:
If you tell me there's a book full of feels, my first reaction is "Sign me up." Angst? The more, the merrier. I eat up angst for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. Tense interpersonal drama between two main characters who grow close despite their differences? I am all about that kind of stuff.
These were the kinds of descriptions glowing reviews threw around for The Winner's Curse. Saying it did not live up to the hype would be an understatement.
My main issue with the book was simply that it was dull. Dull from a writing standpoint, dull from a romance standpoint. This book's writing reminded me of fanfiction—by which I don't mean that the writing was atrocious, but the writing would break off into small, short chunks that would end a little abruptly. There were a few nice poetic descriptions, but mostly the writing was a sea of blandness. Not terrible, not great. Just meh.
And the romance, oh jeez, the romance.
I can't really tolerate a book that's entirely about romance unless the author can write the hell out of a romance. Sadly, most fanfiction seems to do it better than published fiction, and The Winner's Curse isn't an exception. My main issue was that I just couldn't figure out why the flipping hell Kestrel and Arin fell for each other. Arin has a (justifiable) grudge against all Valorians. I don't mind hot-and-cold love interests, but Arin was about 90% anger, 10%...less anger. Kestrel rebels against Valorian tradition but in a kind of indecisive, mopey way. She bought Arin because she thought he could sing, except he couldn't, so it wasn't even like they bonded over music (which is her one passion).
So...why???
I know it was supposedly 100 pages of buildup to their romance, but it still felt to me like halfway through the book it was suddenly "BAM, we're in love now!" I could sort of see it from Kestrel's perspective, but I was utterly baffled as to why Arin was suddenly "I'm in love with you, Kestrel!"
I was so apathetic about the two of them that by the time the action started happening—rebellion/revolution/warfare—I just didn't care anymore and skipped to the end, which was supposed to be super angsty but wasn't particularly noteworthy to me because I STILL DIDN'T CARE ABOUT ARIN AND KESTREL.
Other random notes:
- The first part of the book felt very much like a regency period piece, as it was mostly about Kestrel going to balls and picking dresses and chafing against the rules, etc. Nothing wrong with that kind of plot, it just...wasn't what I was expecting.
- I was sad that Kestrel, despite being a famous general's daughter, was shown as being terrible at fighting. I mean, yeah, okay, I like reading about characters who are smart as much as the next reader, but what's wrong with a badass female fighter who's ALSO smart? Sigh.
- Someone on Goodreads had a long rant about how slavery was portrayed in the book: here. I sort of assumed the slavery in this book was more like Roman slavery, which I don't know that much about anyway, so I don't have much to say myself.
.
I used to say I didn't like romance. Technically, that wasn't entirely true, because I enjoyed Jane Austen and I enjoyed romance when it was a side plot. And then last year, I realized it really wasn't true, because even though most of the time I hate romance when I read about it in other people's books, I get really really excited about it and invested in it when I'm writing it myself.
Unfortunately, I feel like that's just aggravated my already low tolerance for subpar romance in fiction.
Because I know what it feels like to get excited about a romance, so when I read one that bores me, I get really frustrated. I feel like the author has to know how to do better. Romance lives or dies based on the two characters as individuals and how they interact together, why they should be together, and I just can't understand how you can write an entire book that turns on romance if the romantic leads don't have some sort of spark or chemistry or deeply compelling reason to value each other's company. Superficial action is, at the very least, mindless entertainment. A soulless romance, on the other hand, is torture to read.
.
Hurt by Tabitha Suzuma
(Trigger warning for the book: sexual assault)
I've heard that this author writes beautifully, so I decided to check this book out, and maybe she wrote beautifully for another book but this one was not a good showcase of beautiful writing.
There was so. Much. Telling. There were paragraphs full of detail that didn't actually paint a vivid picture in my mind, just drowned me in words instead.
Another thing that really aggravated me was that the teenagers in this book didn't talk like teenagers at all. Protagonist Mattéo and his girlfriend, Lola, talked like a 30-year-old couple in a soap opera rather than two sixteen-year-olds. Seriously, NO teenaged couple unironically uses words like "my darling" and "sweetheart" to refer to each other. And, I'm sorry, but no matter how sweet a teenaged romance is, you're not going to convince me that the feelings two high school students have for each other can transcend to epic love and soulmate status. Just no.
I'm not going to comment on the trauma part of the book. I did like the way the author portrayed Mattéo as desperately trying to function as normal, and being somewhat okay at that but also clearly torn up by what happened to him. There were a couple of things I wanted to talk about under a cut, though.
(Warning: spoilers and content note: sexual assault)
- There's one part where Lola and Mattéo are about to have sex and Mattéo suddenly has some sort of traumatic panic attack and tries to get Lola to stop, but Lola doesn't stop, and so he shoves her away and her shoulder hits a wall. Then they both act like it's completely his fault for injuring her.
Yeah...no. He explicitly told Lola to stop and she didn't listen to him. That's full-on sexual assault territory. It doesn't matter that she didn't know about his trauma at the time and he ended up hurting her in his attempt to get her to stop, no always means no.
- Lola's suicide at the end of the book made me go WTF. It just seemed way too extreme and melodramatic (as did the entirety of Mattéo and Lola's relationship throughout the book). So she couldn't live with knowing her father was a rapist...and that "she had his blood"...and somehow thought that killing herself would help Mattéo heal...? Um...? I don't really see it.
*Edit: Upon later reconsideration, I think there's another thing that bothers me about this book (a lot), given that books about male victims of sexual assault are still really rare, and it's this: While straight men who are sexually assaulted by queer men definitely exist, I am extremely wary of the fact that Hurt focuses on this particular angle, because it's unfortunately tied in with harmful predatory stereotypes about queer men that have historically been wielded for homophobic purposes. Again, this is a particular problem because so few books about male sexual assault victims exist at this point. And while we're not given a reason as for why Mattéo's rapist raped him—i.e. we don't know whether he was queer, whether he raped Mattéo because he was attracted to him or just because he wanted to dominate/hurt him—that's also kind of the problem, because it's not unreasonable for a reader to assume that Mattéo's rapist was attracted to him, and that just demonizes and pathologizes same-sex attraction. In this case, it's doubly problematic given that Mattéo is a minor (unfortunately linking queer men to pedophilia, another homophobic argument with a long history of use). These implications could have been mitigated if there were other queer characters besides the rapist, if Mattéo himself was queer, and/or Mattéo's rapist's motive is explicitly explained as not due to attraction but due to cruelty/power, but that's not the case, so we're left with the unfortunate homophobic undercurrents.
