“England,
1882. In Victorian London, two children with mysterious powers are hunted by a
figure of darkness —a man made of smoke. Sixteen-year-old Charlie Ovid, despite
a lifetime of brutality, doesn't have a scar on him. His body heals itself,
whether he wants it to or not. Marlowe, a foundling from a railway freight car,
shines with a strange bluish light. He can melt or mend flesh. When two
grizzled detectives are recruited to escort them north to safety, they are
forced to confront the nature of difference, and belonging, and the shadowy
edges of the monstrous. What follows is a journey from the gaslit streets of
London, to an eerie estate outside Edinburgh, where other children with
gifts—the Talents—have been gathered. Here, the world of the dead and the world
of the living threaten to collide. And as secrets within the Institute unfurl,
Marlowe, Charlie and the rest of the Talents will discover the truth about
their abilities, and the nature of the force that is stalking them: that the
worst monsters sometimes come bearing the sweetest gifts.”
Ordinary Monsters took way to long for me to finish. Its way too lengthy (658 pages), it sets
up an unwieldy system of unexplainable magic, with gifted kids who are keys to
saving the world, and all of it is very familiar (I felt Miro cribbed a lot
from the Ransom Riggs Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children
series -funny, another series I've yet to finish despite owning the last book). I simply struggled to finish it all because there is something great
in it –but it’s very hard to explain.
Part of the problem, maybe, is
the characters motivations. I struggled to understand how these kids got their
talents, how they were found, why an ancient evil needed them to overrun the
world with the dead. It all became a massive set-up with a telegraphed
cliffhanger. Yes, there are some fine, well drawn characters –Marlowe and
Charlie being the most likeable and endearing. And there are some strong female
leads here, but there is a lot, I mean a lot, of repetitiveness to the
narrative, which made it a slog to get through (lucky we were not dogged down
with long chapters).
The writing is great, as well,
but it reminds me of why fantasy novels are getting tiresome as I age. It was
once a fun genre to read, back in the days. Most series were just three books,
some no longer than say 400 pages. Now we get 600, 700, or well over a 1,000
page series that runs into eight to twelve (or more) novels. It’s all a bit gratuitous,
were editors are allowing writers to take 40 or 50 pages per set piece and yet
the book seems to still stand still, not really moving forward –or at a glacial
pace.
If the two other books in this
series are just as long, I believe I will not continue on. In the end, I feel
there is nothing new here enough to keep me interested.
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