I LOVE the concept of a modern Twelfth Night, but I assumed it would be a standalone feature. Instead, this book kicks off the fae-infused Arden High I LOVE the concept of a modern Twelfth Night, but I assumed it would be a standalone feature. Instead, this book kicks off the fae-infused Arden High series. Every element of that premise felt so confusing to me! I genuinely could not tell who was human, who was staff, who (outside of the TN crew) I needed to pay attention to for the story... And ultimately, none of it mattered. The story could have - and I'd argue should have - been told without as much (any?) focus on those elements or characters. Drop them and jump into the important people right away. Elaborate on the school structure in a later book. As is, it felt jarring and jumbled to have other Shakespearean characters - and magical ones at that - tossed into prominent starting roles only to disappear without impacting the story at all.
Other elements could have been streamlined too. Vi transferred from a boarding school, so why not make Arden High one as well? That would create a more organic opportunity for her to bond with other students while cutting out superfluous characters like her mom. The book feels rushed as is, so editing unnecessary characters and retooling their scenes could have helped built the plot better.
That said, I was impressed with how easily the authors translated parts of the play to a modern setting. For instance, cell phones and social media were perfect platforms for Twelfth Night's flurry of mixed-up missives. But an aspect I was most excited to see modernized - the genderbending of the central character and subsequent queering of her crushes - felt flat. The source material is a mess of trans vibes and gay panic that leaves characters questioning their sexualities (even if though they ultimately opt for comphet). In this version, identities are already fixed, so there can be no final act queer reveal/awakening. I'm happy these fictional kids are all so accepting and secure, of course, but the unlabeled fluidity of seemingly every student at Arden High removes a level of tension, charm, and humor that exists in the original. Personally, I wish Vi had been more decidedly nonbinary (not just GNC), so that her gender could have caused the chaos of Viola's crossdressing, and that at least one of the other characters discovered more about their own gender or sexuality in the end....more
(view spoiler)[I assumed Theo and the rabbit burned up when they got too close to the fire, but their bodies bCan someone please explain the ending??
(view spoiler)[I assumed Theo and the rabbit burned up when they got too close to the fire, but their bodies both appear at the end of the book. Even more confusingly, the rabbit seems to be underwater while Theo is in the woods. What happened??? (hide spoiler)]
Aside from the confusion of the final reveal, this was a quick, moody little story about bored teens in a small town. The art was nice, but generic, and some of the translation was clunky. The characters and plot reminded me a LOT of Slash Them All! Both graphic novels focus on a ragtag group of teenage outsiders getting too close to lethal dangers in the woods around their small town. There were even parallels among the main characters!...more
I was not expecting the genre shifts between sections and struggled a bit because of the abrupt changes in time, tone, and setting. The war content was slow and gruesome but compelling, and I appreciated the trajectory of "seeing" it play out in France before switching back to the hospitals in England to observe the aftermath. One of the deaths in part 3 made me cry, as did a different character crying in part 4.
I appreciate the moral dilemma at the center of the story, especially with the reveal in part 4. How much to blame is Briony? Were her motives as innocent as she initially suggests? (And why didn't Cecilia just SAY SOMETHING to her immediately after the library??)
One person I feel strongly does NOT deserve her negative treatment in the narrative is Lola, who is villainized from start to finish. She's introduced as manipulative by Briony and histrionic by Emily (who detests her because of her similarities to her mother). Lola is victimized multiple times in the story, and it's a gut punch when Briony discovers she's marrying her abuser. But then, any time she encounters her after that, Briony describes her villainously, even comparing her to Cruella de Ville. For what?? Being groomed? Taking Briony's testimony as truth? I think Briony projects her guilt onto Lola....more
Considering the central couple of the series is a fox and a bear, it seems a bit strange that it takes four books to find someone opposed to inter-species dating. The concept is considered outdated, even in small towns like Shady Hollow, and the protagonist, Vera Vixen, is blandly surprised anytime the subject arises. At the same time, she doesn't seem offended by a viewpoint that the book acknowledges as "hateful." She feels pity for a middle-aged otter who denounces his son's romance with a beaver, (view spoiler)[ even when that denouncement leads the otter to fake his own death and frame his son's beloved for murder (hide spoiler)].
Only one other animal has a reaction to the otter's bigotry: a hedgehog who glares at him after overhearing the same conversation as Vera. Vera immediately assumes the two must have some sordid history. Why else would someone make a mean face at racism?? The hedgehog's expression is treated as a lingering mystery, only answered after the otter has been caught and imprisoned.
"When we were all in the park by the town hall, I saw you look at Shelby like you hated him. But he's just confessed everything and it was clear [...] that he barely knew you." "True enough," Muriel replied. "I've barely exchanged any words with him." "Then why'd you look at him that way?" "I heard every word of that argument... all that harping about otters marrying only otters and beavers sticking with beavers... it's drivel. Pure nonsense. I don't hold with such closed-mindedness, and I'm surprised that's not obvious." "So your reaction was to what he said, not who he was?" "Precisely. My own grandmother could have spouted that dreck and I would have given her the same treatment." "Oh," Vera shook her head. "I was so sure that it had to be a personal vendetta or something like that."
Like Muriel, I'm surprised - nay, stunned - this wasn't obvious to Vera (although I don't think I'd dismiss racism as mere drivel or nonsense). But the book's whole attitude toward prejudice is weird. Another parent has a classist viewpoint, and that's handwaved as an expected bias. But racism is treated like this strange, old-fashioned, toothless thing, to the point that Vera is surprised when the hedgehog reacts negatively to it and sympathetic when the otter commits atrocities to continue it.
Vera felt a tiny bit of sympathy for Shelby at last. It had to be difficult to readjust your thinking, even when the previous thinking was horrible. But it did seem like Shelby was coming around.
The book struggles to charge Shelby with any specific crime, despite him traumatizing the townsfolk who witnessed his murder, planting false evidence, wasting police and volunteer time, attacking a popcorn vendor, and (presumably?) trespassing and robbing Lefty's home. I have to assume the last one, because that crime is never mentioned after Lefty reports it. Neither is the lawyer who lingers to spend time with the Von Beaverpelts. Or the shabbiness of the VBP's estate, which is inexplicably restored to splendor by the book's wedding finale. There are so many loose ends left untied, and too many repeated scenarios. (Vera conveniently picking up the perfect niche book to solve the mystery; a creature's house being looted by the murderer and the police ignoring the complaints; Orville rolling his eyes at Vera and dismissing the clues she discovered)....more
Really lovely; really sad. I ended the book feeling the weight of the protagonist's loss and confusion. There's a generational cycle of... not failureReally lovely; really sad. I ended the book feeling the weight of the protagonist's loss and confusion. There's a generational cycle of... not failure, exactly, but separation (from self, others, and the world) and disappointment. Everything feels inevitable, even as characters - past and present - express a longing to change things. In the end, the spirits succeed in destroying not only a village, but the lives of those dedicated to guiding them.
The star off (really more like half-star, but such is the tyranny of goodreads' rating system) is because character art blended into each other and made it even more confusing to discern what was happening. The elderly characters were indistinct, a spirit husband looked like a spirit lover, a dead wife (?) looked like a living non-wife (???). I understand that some of that is intentional, but it was unclear to me how much. The uncertainty clouded some of my appreciation for a book I otherwise enjoyed much more than I expected....more
Truly baffled by all the reviews summarizing this book as fun, light, or "popcorn." There are SO many instances of sexual assault, from the veryCW: SA
Truly baffled by all the reviews summarizing this book as fun, light, or "popcorn." There are SO many instances of sexual assault, from the very first pages through to a graphic secondhand depiction of torture and rape. There are funny parts in the book, of course, and the narrator certainly stays plucky, but the content as a whole is disturbing....more
I complain about the obvious mysteries and one note characters in this series, but I continue to read the books, so... sure, fine, three stars.
"AnyonI complain about the obvious mysteries and one note characters in this series, but I continue to read the books, so... sure, fine, three stars.
"Anyone can become a murderer with the right motivation."
The premise of Mirror Lake is my favorite of the series so far: a rat insists her wealthy husband has been murdered - while said spouse appears to stand directly beside her. Unfortunately it's downhill from there, with a solution so obvious and a protagonist so oblivious that it can feel physically painful to follow the plot. (One particularly glaring example is (view spoiler)[ when Vera discovers that the husband has a secret brother and confronts him about it - but doesn't ask the husband's WIFE - his confidant and childhood sweetheart - or any of the village's many elderly residents who are old enough to remember his existence! (hide spoiler)])
There's a bit of a twist toward the end of the book that gave me the SLIGHTEST hope that the author would spin the mystery in a more intriguing direction, but nope. The ending is worst of all, though, because this mastermind of a murderer is felled when (view spoiler)[he forgets the twin brother he's impersonating had a fatal peanut allergy...??! How would he forget that! Why would he even insist on it in the first place? AUGH! (hide spoiler)] Despite referencing Poirot's "little grey cells" again and even quoting Sherlock Holmes, Mirror Lake is another lackluster mystery.
In fairness, it seems like people aren't reading this series for the mysteries. The author must realize this, because she leans more than usual into the cozy vibes of an animal village by adding a little more atmosphere to this book, particularly in descriptions of food.
Mirror Lake also introduces the series' first real B-plot: Deputy Orville running for police captain. Earlier in the series I would have been all for this, since the existing police captain does nothing and I liked Orville and Vera together. This book really drives home how rigid Orville is, though, and how little growth he exhibits toward Vera. The couple fights to the point of an extended break in ALL THREE BOOKS, typically because Orville underestimates Vera. He full-on yells at her in this book for "wasting his time" when a crime scene she reported gets covered up by the time he sees it.
Even when Orville and Vera aren't fighting, there's a PG element to their relationship that makes it seem like they're already phoning it in. The most risque moment I can think of is when Vera coyly asks if she should lock her door with Orville on the inside or outside, and he's like, "haha, good one, good night," and leaves. Do these two even like each other? I don't need details of bear/rabbit mating rituals, but it's baffling that this book opens with a teased wedding proposal when the couple barely touches, rarely flirts, and can't seem to communicate regularly or well.
The campaign plot leads to an aggressive, even preachy, push for voter participation. I assume that's due to outside factors - the book released one month before the 2020 election - but it reads like the author just discovered democracy. Take for instance, the following exchange at the police station:
[Vera] looked over to the prisoner [Lefty]. "I still can't believe you're volunteering for a political campaign. What do you care about law and order?" "Excuse me," the racoon said, standing up on the jail cell's cot to gain enough height to look the bears in the eyes, "but politics touch everyone's lives. And I have a right a responsibility to participate in the process. [...] Voting is for everybody!" "You believe in universal suffrage?" Orville asked. "Even for felons?" "Well sure! Who knows more about what parts of the justice system need reform?" Lefty countered.
Or the scene in which Vera solves the crime by sorting voter registration cards in the library. There's a whole speech about doing boring stuff for the sake of democracy. I.E. "It seemed inefficient to have to check and record all the information on a resident to ensure they weren't accidentally left off the rolls, but Vera knew that this is the price one pays to live in a civilized, free society. Imagine a world where some voices are silenced, she thought."
Obviously it's important to vote, important to volunteer, important to engage in politics. But these moments are hamfisted to the point of propaganda. Please, authors, write about the importance of political participation, but respect your audience enough to assume they live in the same political climate you do and have heard all of this before.
In contrast to the overt lectures, there's a moment in the final scene that spoke to me more subtly:
"I'm just so glad this is over," Dorothy said with a sigh. Vera nodded, but then noticed the bare spot on the foyer floor - an ugly reminder of what had happened in this house. Even with Thomas in jail, was the ordeal over? Could it ever be truly over?
I feel that for 2016. For 2020... 2024... And for personal griefs as well, of course. It's a moment of earnest reflection that feels, at last, like I might be reading something dealing with actual depth. The cozy vibes are enough to keep me and lots of others coming back to this series, but I'd love for it to feel less like empty calories and more like one of the rich, warming meals the author describes....more
I have a hard time believing this series is intended for adults. Despite a cute Poirot reference midway through, the mystery required very few "littleI have a hard time believing this series is intended for adults. Despite a cute Poirot reference midway through, the mystery required very few "little gray cells" to solve. The romance feels like middle school stuff and the killer was a keener version of the last book's murderer. Strangest of all, there's a weird disconnect between the victim and their grieving loved ones. I get that time has passed and (view spoiler)[the marriage was strained (hide spoiler)], but wouldn't you show a little more shock and horror if (view spoiler)[your missing ex-wife/mom was found BLUDGEONED TO DEATH in a nearby field?! There's occasional talk about exonerating Joe (whom no one seems concerned about prosecuting anyway), but even that storyline provides few insights into the family's feelings. Does Joe Jr secretly wonder if his dad killed his mom? If not, why does he not seem to care who did? Both Joes appear to have ZERO concerns about their wife/mother's grisly murder or the progression of the investigation. They should be the heart of this mystery, but they exist in the background as mere coffee slingers. As with the other inhabitants of Shady Hollow, the author has imbued them with 1-2 cutesy traits a piece, and there seems to be no space in the story for their thoughts, feelings, or development. (hide spoiler)]
The book ends with this absolutely BONKERS line: (view spoiler)["Joe, I speak for the entire town when I say you can never leave." (hide spoiler)] Like... ??? I know it's supposed to be a schmaltzy lil wrap up, but isn't that sentiment a bit ominous when the entire book has been about (view spoiler)[how Joe's ex was never able to leave???? (hide spoiler)] It just drives home how creepily detached the one-note characters in this town are. The author preserves her cozy status quo without offering any kind of depth or insight, and the result feels aptly hollow....more