Becoming Crone (The Crone Wars #1) by Lydia M. Hawke

Becoming Crone deserves 5 stars for getting me out of reading slump alone, because this year has not been my reading year at all, but this story managed to keep my interest.

Starting with a refreshing concept where the main protagonist is a 60 year-old grandma who suddenly comes into her power as a witch - or, a Crone and continuing with assembling a cast of mismatched, quirky characters (and a cat), it follows Claire through discovery and acceptance of her new reality without a boring moment, from funny to scary and heart-wrenching ones.

I very much appreciated the real, tangible stakes and consequences, from the magic's impact on the real world to inflicted injuries that do not magically disappear.

And with the way it ended and my trust in the author, I one-clicked the sequel pre-order without a second thought. 

The Idea of You by Robinne Lee

The Idea of You drew me in with the premise of a reverse age gap trope with having an older heroine and a younger hero. 

I basically devoured it in one day – I started with a few chapters on Saturday and couldn't stop reading on Sunday and I was going to give it 5 stars up until about 50 pages before the end when I started suspecting that it wouldn't have a happy ending. 

Which it didn't. And it is such a shame, because otherwise it is such an excellently written story, full of emotion, and the author really makes these two characters work. 

I love the age gap trope, but even in older-man-younger-woman version it is a hit-and-miss to find a story that really works out emotionally and shows the compatibility between the characters, much less in the reverse case of older-woman-younger-man, which there are also fewer books about. 

But Robinne Lee, despite the age difference, establishes the connection between her protagonists and makes us see the things they have in common that make them fall in love with each other. And then she ruins it.

What grates is that throughout the book the author pontificates on the invisibility of women above a certain age, with them and their work being underappreciated and undervalued, and emphasises the benefits of knowing oneself that aging brings. 

And all of that is great and necessary to be pointed out more often in our day and time, be it in everyday life or fiction, because it is the truth: women of certain age do not stop living and mattering. 

However, as nice and fine as the author putting all these notions in the story is, it is completely negated by the unhappy ending, which slams the point straight back into the stereotype: that an older woman can only find happiness within conforming to the role of a mother, putting her child and other people first, with perhaps a bit of a career on the side, but she most certainly cannot find happiness in an unconventional relationship, or, god forbid, define herself and her happiness on her own terms.

And that is highly ironic, considering that earlier in the book  the author explicitly points out the hypocrisy of people not batting an eye at all the 40-and-older-something men dating and marrying 20-somethings, but condemning a woman for it. Yet, Robinne Lee does the same to her own character in the end. 

So, I am mad at this book. It could have been everything, but with that ending it is a huge disappointment. 

All in the name of being realistic, I suppose. But, guess what? A 20-year-old boy band star falling in love with a twice-as-old, even if (or even more so if) sophisticated, art-gallery owner, is in itself unrealistic. It is all fantasy. That is why we have fiction. F*ck realistic. 

And now I need to find – which is so hard to do – another one with a similar premise but an actual happy ending to make myself feel better. See, that is how my TBR grows. BTW, recommendations welcome. ;)

Letters from Father Christmas by J. R. R. Tolkien

Letters from Father Christmas is a collection of letters Tolkien wrote to his children as Father Christmas aka Santa Claus in replies to their letters to Santa.

I decided to reread it this advent about a letter or 8 pages a day and, although I missed some days due to real life calamities, I did slowly make my way through it by and by just in the perfect time to finish it on Christmas day.

The letters are such a delight to read, showing Tolkien's craftsmanship not only through the stories he comes up about Father Christmas and his friends and the exciting fortunate and less fortunate events in the North Pole, but also in the intricate handwriting he invents for each of the characters he emulates and even lovely drawings he includes with the letters. 

From 1920 to 1943, the letters grow in number along with his growing family and diminish as the children grow up, all along hinting here at there at Tolkien's interests in his literary work as well as at the concerns of the real world, but most of all they give a testimony of his love for his children, thus making me admire him even more as a person rather than just an author. 

Letters from Father Christmas are a wonderful read for December and if you haven't read it yet, there is always next year.  

Midnight Sun (Twilight #5) by Stephenie Meyer

Midnight Sun is a retelling of Twilight from Edward’s POV – and a retelling of only Twilight, which with roughly 700 pages makes up for a rather long book.

I found Edward’s POV highly interesting and up to halfway mark I was going to give it stars. However, around the time of their first date, Edward’s inner reflections become repetitive and between 50-70% the story is rather tedious.

Fortunately, after around 70% the pace picks up and the story brings up fresh elements from the time when Edward and Bella are separated.

And so, after about four months, I was able to finally finish it! And now I’m back to wishing what I wished in the beginning: to see Edward’s POV of the rest of the series, especially the beginning of New Moon, when he is yet again away from Bella. Although I can also guess how his agonising could once again turn boring.

On the other hand, I also want Stephenie Meyer to continue The Host. In any case, whatever she decides to write next, I will definitely give it a shot, because Midnight Sun did reaffirm my impression that her books are, while not literary masterpieces, not half as bad as certain online/book community circles believe them to be.

Lord of the Flies by William Golding

I finally had to read Lord of the Flies for tutoring purposes, because it is a required reading for our national high school English finals, and at first it wasn’t as bad as I had expected from all the bad things I had heard about it. I thought that the boys’ behaviour wasn’t really any different from how contemporary kids would behave in a similar situation.

About two thirds in, however, I had to start agreeing: it was really that bad.

And in the end, I am not so sure the behaviour was just a result of the boys’ spoiled rich British origin. Perhaps any other group of people (children) in the same uncontrollable, helpless, and scary situation would eventually react similarly.

I will not even touch the issue of gender and the lack of girls in the book – I do wonder whether things would be worse or better if the group included girls – since Golding himself was unwilling to explore that and was only able to ask questions regarding that possibility himself.

My edition included study materials with useful chapter summaries and discussion/reflection questions and additional information on the issues connected with the novel, which were its saving grace.

It also included Golding’s essay on fables and his intentions regarding what he wanted to show about the human nature and how it is governed by nationalism and prejudice, especially in connection with Nazism and fascism, which are certainly important issues to consider (and beware of perpetuating) yet again nowadays.

Golding does manage to show the worst of human nature when unfettered by societal constraints and bolstered by fear (of the unknown, other) and I definitely agree with his notion that we are all capable of the same atrocities if we fail to check ourselves and each other to keep from succumbing to fear, prejudice, and other-ing specific groups people.

However, I believe that without accompanying materials and guidance the readers who are unaware of the story's connection to British exceptionalism and colonialism cannot really discern these themes and their messages, especially not ESL students who are struggling with understanding the language itself.

Even without language understanding issues, I could only see the aforementioned connotations while reading through the additional materials. Hence, I believe that among literally millions of books out there, our national board for HS English finals could have certainly found a better book to teach about such important topics as the dangers of nationalism and prejudice in present times.

The Lost Blackbird by Liza Perrat

The Lost Blackbird is a story about two sisters shipped from a London orphanage to Australia, where they are promised a better life awaits them.

Separated upon arrival, despite having been promised that they would be able to stay together, they are both thrown in their own set of hardships. The older sister has to endure harrowing circumstances of child labour on a faraway farm. The younger is adopted into a loving, well-off family, but her life comes with its own kind of trauma.

The story is told alternately from both girls’ perspectives, proving once more Liza Perrat’s masterful ability to convey children’s voices from a very young age into adulthood, enabling the reader to not only see but feel them grow up as well as witness the world and people around them in vivid, palpable detail.

Hence, The Lost Blackbird was a fast and utterly absorbing read that taught me something new, as I had no knowledge of child migration from the UK to the other parts of the former British empire (or perhaps I had forgotten about it.)

On the whole, this story sucked me up into its world and still didn’t quite let me go, and certainly left me with a good feeling.  

A Seditious Affair (Society of Gentlemen #2) by K. J. Charles

I have had A Seditious Affair on my to-read list for far too long, because I wasn’t in the mood for the level of angst and the type of characters I expected to encounter in it – and then my expectations turned out to be completely wrong.

Set against the tumultuous end of 1820s London, A Seditious Affair turned out to be an utterly absorbing with just the right pace and the level of suspense that kept me reading and reading, so I could barely put down and finished it in only a couple of days.

The main characters grew on me quickly and I was rooting for them throughout the story as they were such a fascinating pair of contrasts that complement each other. Most importantly, however, they were actually my age (why on Earth I expected them to be much younger, I don’t know, but this age worked extremely well), and I loved that!

On top of everything, the writing was not just good, but beautiful – and I may have to go (re)read some darn romantics now (even though immersing too much the concepts of romanticism are not good for my mental well-being, precisely because I find them so very relatable.)

All in all, A Seditious Affair was a captivating and wonderfully spun story with tangible sentiment and vivid setting that engaged all senses and really brought the time, place, and people to life. It was my first, but not last book by this author. And really, why was I waiting so long? But better late than never.

Ararat by Christopher Golden

Horror is far out of my comfort zone, but I felt like reading something different, specifically in this genre and Ararat had been on my to-read list long enough, so I did it and I am glad I did.

Maybe I've desensitised myself a little by occasional forays into the genre, because it has somehow turned out not to be as creepy as I had expected, but it was still creepy.

The creepiest parts are the first third of the book before the characters start realising what they unleashed (while the readers have more knowledge, or at least suspicions, than they) and, of course, the ending.

In between and throughout the book there was, however, plenty of gore which I tried not to imagine too vividly.

The story overall didn't offer anything new regarding concepts, but it was nevertheless compelling and well-written, and it definitely delivered enough material for a nightmare or two.

All in all, I now feel weirdly accomplished for having read it. ;)

Sins of the Angels (Grigori Legacy #1) by Linda Poitevin

The main culprit for the fact that this has only taken me almost four months to finish is that it employs a certain type of suspense that I find increasingly frustrating, namely, when the readers know something the characters don't and it takes them ages to get there.

I don't consider it a spoiler, because it is evident right from the beginning of the story if not from the title itself, but I'm putting it under the SPOILER tag anyway: Obviously (or not), Alex, the main protagonist, doesn't believe in angels, heaven, etc. and when she starts seeing wings, she fears she is going insane, especially due to her family history. END OF SPOILER

However, the very same thing is also one of the strongest points of Sins of the Angels, because such an attitude is rather more realistic than most books of the genre adopt, which is a quick and more or less easy acceptance.

Anyway, that piece of knowledge the readers have but that Alex keeps trying to remain in denial about for nearly 70% of the story was frustrating as hell for me; I could only bear to read a few chapters at a time.

And after that point, when Alex catches up with the facts, I finished the rest in one go, because Sins of the Angels is ultimately a compelling, well-written story that adds the previously explored concepts their own unique twists.

Therefore, I am, now that we got over with that discrepancy between the characters' and the readers' knowledge, definitely interested to see where the rest of the series takes us.

The Dirty Ones by J. A. Huss

NOTE: The book reviewed contains themes only appropriate for those above the age of majority.

A group of students at an elite college is pushed into an unusual – let’s call it adventure in their senior year.

Ten years later someone writes a book about it that tells the truth. Or does it? As they reconnect to uncover the book’s author, they fall into a spiral of memories, intrigues, and convoluted relationships, both past and present.

The plot that unravels completely blew me away, in particularly the twist near the end. 

I can best describe The Dirty Ones as a psychological erotic mystery thriller, the least emphasis being on erotic, although it sure contains some filthy smut. But whatever you expect from this book, I promise you are going to be wrong. A good kind of wrong, though.

Overall, this world and story of this book are opulent, sensual, emotive, and above all very human and will certainly stay with me for a long time.

The Dirty Ones was my first book from J. A. Huss, but I will surely return to her for quality writing, vivid imagery, and fantastic storytelling.

The Vow on the Heron (Plantagenet Saga #9) by Jean Plaidy

The Vow on the Heron depicts the reign of Edward III, starting and ending similarly in disgrace and with an impoverished country, but with a tumultuous journey in between.

Beginning as a puppet boy-king, Edward III rose from his early failures of youthful inexperience as a great military leader, often likened to his grandfather Edward I and most notably remembered for staring the Hundred Years’ War with France.

What I liked the most about his life was that he had a really good marriage and family life and was for the most part a faithful husband and a good father, which seems to be an exception more often than not when it comes to historical rulers of whichever country.

As usually with Plaidy, The Vow on the Heron is written in a simple but evocative language that makes what could be a boring history rather interesting, although it could be edited a bit more meticulously.

Overall, this was a quick and easy but compelling read.

Alpha (2018)

DIRECTOR: Albert Hughes; CAST: Kodi Smit-McPhee, Jóhannes Haukur Jóhannesson, Marcin Kowalczyk…

SUMMARY: During the last Ice Age, a friendship forms between a boy on the verge of adulthood and a wolf.

MY THOUGHTS:

Although I’m more of a cat than a dog person, Alpha was one of my must-see films of this year ever since I had seen the first trailer and it did not disappoint.

A coming-of-age story follows a developing bond between an injured boy and a wounded wolf in a suspenseful and oftentimes poignant arc that comes to a heart-warming conclusion.

The film is filled with stunning visuals and some breath-taking action; CGI is not half-bad, either. And, with a fictionalised backdrop and taken with a grain of salt as to historical accuracy, Alpha could have nevertheless been one of the versions of how people domesticated wolves.

My only ‘complaint’ is that with around an hour and a half the film could have been longer; I would not mind watching more of Keda and Alpha’s adventures at all.

RECOMMENDATION: The film contains hunting and other animal injuries, so you might want to be careful if you are sensitive to that (but all ends well for the main protagonist.) Other than that, Alpha is an engaging film that is perfect for watching on one of these dark winter nights when you need something to make you feel good.

The Swooping Magpie by Liza Perrat

NOTE: This review contains SPOILERS. 

Sixteen-year-old Lindsey crushes on her teacher, dreaming of escaping a cold home with a violent father and an intimidated, emotionally absent mother. 

But when she ‘seduces’ him – although the man, nearly twice her age, who turns out to be a truly despicable character, should very well know better – and gets pregnant, her in many ways sheltered world of wealth comes crashing down along with her dreams.

On the cusp of sexual revolution, pregnancy outside of marriage is still a taboo, unmarried mothers shamed and shunned, sent away to have their children put up for adoption. 

In one such home for unmarried mothers, Lindsey is faced with a different reality of poverty and exhausting work, coming face to face with people she used to look down upon but who become her only friends when everyone else turns their backs on her and from whom she learns not only about suffering she couldn’t imagine before but also about perseverance.

Initially a deluded girl who stubbornly sticks to her pipe dream with her head in the sand, Lindsey made me pity her, but I soon started empathise with her, being reminded of how hard it must have been for women in the time where they were dependent on men, purposely kept in the dark about the facts of life, with sex education non-existent, then shamed for the consequences of actions often not of their own design, lied to, manipulated, and finally coerced into giving their children up for adoption.

Set against the backdrop of women’s emancipation movement, Liza Perrat depicts these issues as well as the challenges of the aftermath of losing the children they are not allowed to grieve for as their sole existence is shameful and best to forget in the eyes of society, such as depression and suicide attempts, in a multi-faced way that inspires a whole range of raw emotions in the reader, but most of all an admiration for women like Lindsey and her friends.

Thus, The Swooping Magpie is above all a testimony of women’s strength. With a collection of colourful characters and an exquisite Australian setting, it is a truly gripping and quick read (I finished it in two days) and might be, in my opinion, Liza Perrat’s best work to date.

Thanks to the author for kindly sending me a copy of The Swooping Magpie in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.

Beren and Lúthien by J. R. R. Tolkien

The story of Beren and Lúthien is one of the three central stories of Tolkien’s Elvish history, presented in this book in a new light, revealing the process of Tokien’s writing and how it evolved from its earliest concept to the latest, though never quite finished version.

Edited by Christopher Tolkien, Beren and Lúthien is actually a collection of various versions, accompanied with a commentary on their conception and development and the reasoning behind it, following by now a familiar approach when it comes to Tolkien’s posthumously published works.

As such, it comes out rather academic – perhaps overly so – to a reader only interested in a ‘story’.

However, I found Beren and Lúthien extremely readable and even refreshing and I loved rediscovering the already familiar story from The Silmarillion with its different and new angles through both in prose and verse. Although Tolkien’s poetry does at times seem awkward, it is in most places highly evocative and yet again shows Tolkien’s skill. The latest written verses in particularly make you think about what he could have done if he had had more time.

I was, nevertheless, a little ‘disappointed’ to learn that Tolkien was apparently not a cat person (just kidding, LOL.)

All in all, Beren and Lúthien was an enjoyable and quick read that only rekindled my love for all things Tolkien.

Someone Else’s Fairytale (Someone Else’s Fairytale #1) by E. M. Tippetts

The concept of Someone Else’s Fairytale – a movie star falling for the one girl whose dream isn’t a hot movie star falling for her – was intriguing, but that was also all.

However, it kept me reading through to the end, which earns it half a star more than it would have for the plot and the characters. Because this was one of the dumbest stories I have ever read. And there were so many annoying things.

Of course the male BFF is actually pining for the main character in a romantic way. Or is she pining for him? I don’t know. Because clearly men and women can’t be ‘just’ friends. Right.

The said BFF also presumes to tell the protagonist who she shouldn’t be friends with and how often she should talk to them. Red flags rising my hackles all around.

Then, Chloe, from whose POV the story is written, sounds awfully immature, despite being through quite an ordeal in childhood and apparently having to take care of herself. She is 21, but her actions and even more her reasoning are those of a 15-year-old. As someone who basically had to grow up at 14, I couldn’t at all relate to her childishness – and it shows the author clearly wrote neither from experience nor from sufficient research.

But most of all, the story is just bland, as in, there isn’t any story – only enumeration of this and that which happens, and the reader knows the main characters will get a HEA anyway. There is some drama due to Chloe’s past, but it doesn’t really serve the story, although it is rather interesting on its own, and I think the author would have had more success with it if she had written a YA thriller about that ordeal instead of this ‘romance’.

The characters are equally bland. There are hardly any descriptions (and I don’t mean hair/eye colour, height and whatnot; there aren’t even any mannerisms and such that make up a person(ality)), unless you count  unfavourable ones of the supposedly hot movie star. And while leaving physical appearances up to the reader’s imagination can work out marvellously, this isn’t the case in Someone Else’s Fairytale. Hence, everyone seemed just words on paper, dead, and I felt no connection to any of them.

Which brings me to the last and worst: the story was feeling-less. It is supposed to be a romance, but I couldn’t feel a thing reading it. Angst? Love? (Who am I kidding?) Tension? Happiness? Sadness? Anything? Nope, nothing. A phone book makes me feel more.

At least it was free on Kindle.

Siberia (2018)

DIRECTOR: Mathew Ross; CAST: Keanu Reeves, Boris Gulyarin, Ana Ularu…

SUMMARY (from IMDB): When an American diamond trader's Russian partner goes missing, he journeys to Siberia in search of him, but instead begins a love affair.

MY THOUGHTS:

I watched this film the other day due to coming across some salacious gifs on Tumblr and I had some time to kill and wasn’t in the mood for anything from my lengthy back log of thought-provoking films I need to catch up with.

Though-provoking much, however, Siberia isn’t, since it follows a predictable template of an-American-vs.-Russian-mob thrillers, except perhaps in deciding for the less Hollywood-like ending of the two possible options in that sort of movies.

Keanu Reeves is a good actor, but he doesn’t do a particularly outstanding job in Siberia, perhaps due to the character he plays, who felt rather bland to me.

The one thing that does stand out once for a change in a Hollywood production is the casting of Russian and other actors with a great grasp on the language for the majority of Russian characters as well as using Russian for more than just a few standard catch phrases, all of which I highly appreciated.

RECOMMENDATION: Overall, Siberia is a rather mediocre film, employing all the typical (and overdone) tropes of the genre. It includes cheating and forced consent (the latter not between the main characters, fortunately), so beware. Reeves’s “stellar” performance in certain E-rated scenes and the very mediocrity, however, make it a good movie to kill some time and/or unwind with. 

The Hunger by Alma Katsu

NOTE: The book reviewed contains themes only appropriate for those above the age of majority.

Based on true events – which I didn’t know – The Hunger is a fictionalised story of a group of pioneers, known as the Donner party, travelling westward, with an added supernatural element.

The journey through a harsh terrain and in inclement weather conditions is full of hardships, exacerbated by bad choices made out of ignorance – sometimes wilful – and stubbornness of incompetent leadership.

The people at first appear to be mostly strangers, but the connections, past and present, between them slowly unravel over the course of the story, unveiling their diverse backgrounds, views, ambitions, and experience. With superstition and distrust abound, it doesn’t take long for the tensions to arise between such a collection of people and in-fighting to begin, culminating in fear that overrides reason and leads to the group’s ultimate demise.

For there is something else trailing the party. Hunger. And not just the one caused by the dwindling supplies.

There is something evil watching, lying in wait, splitting the group into smaller parts to make them an easier prey. Something with teeth and claws. A pack of wild wolves, some say. Monsters from natives’ myths. Or perhaps the monsters are just men. Might be neither. Might be all of the above.

The answers, all through to the final one, are never quite what you would expect, as nothing is ever black and white. And in that lies the true horror of The Hunger.

Masterfully told, The Hunger is eerie and gory (I wouldn’t recommend reading either on an empty or a full stomach; pick some healthy middle), but also wondrously poignant, showing the best and the worst of people when faced with evil, without and within.

Buy Me, Sir by Jade West

NOTE: The book reviewed contains themes only appropriate for those above the age of majority.

Buy Me, Sir takes obsession and deception on a whole new level with the amount of creepy stalking Lissa employs in order to get Alexander in her panties. It is downright scary, but also astounding and kind of awe-inspiring, especially with the sort of devotion she takes what she gets.

Lissa's mindset, combined with Alexander's dark sexual preferences and personal and domestic issues and a couple of despicable antagonists, provide for a highly intense, suspenseful story – so much so I needed to take a good three-weeks-long break right in the middle before continuing reading.

Thus, and with the help of a handful of other colourful characters, Jade West spins a multi-layered, well-rounded plot that digs into the depths of both main protagonists and draws a painful, but incredibly beautiful story that has you rooting for the couple 100%.

And to make it all better it delivers the kind of ending they deserve and that makes all the pain they - and the reader – go through worth it.

Count on Jade West for a well-written and well-developed dark romance.

Hostage (Criminals & Captives #2) by Annika Martin & Skye Warren

NOTE: The book reviewed contains themes only appropriate for those above the age of majority.

Hostage was so good that I took a break for a week at about three quarters in so it would last longer, because I didn’t want it to end too soon.

Although we knew about Stone’s history from Prisoner, getting his point of view was equally if not still more devastating as we saw how he, being the eldest, took upon himself the responsibility of taking take care of the others, both in the past and in the present, and doing the dirty work himself so others wouldn’t have to.

And then there is Brooke, seemingly a spoilt rich girl who has everything, but who lets us see behind that façade from the get-go and gives a reader a lot of food for thought regarding how much of the ‘happiness’ and ‘wealth’ some people have could be just putting up appearances and following the invisible rules of the elite .

Brooke, somewhat naïve and innocent to an extent, with her highly-regulated life, and the hardened, disillusioned Stone, stripped of any notions of ‘propriety’ couldn’t be more different. And yet, they complement each other and fit together perfectly.

As Brooke puts it herself, she is a good influence on him and he is a bad (but in a good way) influence on her – while she shows him he doesn’t have to be a monster and can still have a life beyond vengeance, he teaches her how to stand up for herself and be her own person, and they both help each other see a way to live a life not predetermined by their past or other people and stay true to themselves even as they change each other.

Hostage takes place over several years, encompassing the time before and after Prisoner and brings the story to a wrap. Hence, although I would love to see other guys’ stories, I would also be fine with the series ending here, as the ending is very satisfactory and actually even more so than I had expected going in.  

Other qualities I praised in Prisoner – great writing, vivid side characters, real stakes, truly dark elements, and organic development of the romance among others – are also present in Hostage.

All in all, Hostage was what very few sequels are – even better than the first book, and I cannot recommend this duet enough to the lovers of dark romance.

The Heroes of Tolkien by David Day

I wanted to like this book, but instead I had to fight the urge to chunk it against the wall much too often. Nevertheless, there were some good things among the bad and the ugly.

The good:

• Fancy binding and paper and gorgeous illustrations; it is visually a beautiful book.
• The included charts can be useful, especially as a quick reminder of various relations (but you can’t rely on them for spelling and dates.)
• Some intriguing takes and interesting comparison with various mythologies and real historical events/personages (although the latter is basically calling Tolkien’s work allegory, which he was strictly and explicitly against, without actually calling it so) and I have learnt some new things about the sources of Tolkien’s ideas and etymology and was reminded of some things I had forgotten. 
• But mostly, it just made me want to reread actual Tolkien’s works yet again.

The bad:

• The Heroes of Tolkien is a misleading title, since the book only deals with a selection of the most notable heroes from Tolkien’s works.
• Equally misleading is the blurb, promising an examination of the complexities of Tolkien’s portrayal of good and evil and then doing no such thing.
• The subject matter is dealt with superficially, without any in-depth insight into Tolkien’s heroes, so if you expect that, you will be disappointed and better off going for The History of Middle Earth (although I have yet to read it myself.)
• The writing is all over the place, jumping from one topic to another, with out-of-place asides, and often repetitive. The effect is that of a collection of notes on historical, mythological, and literary similarities and connections, rather than a cohesive treatment of the subject in the title.

The ugly:

• Many factual errors, confusing the reader and thus rendering the book useless as reference.
• Day cannot keep the names straight – I know, it is hard with there being so many of them, but if one is writing a book about Tolkien’s heroes, I would consider getting the names right the bare minimum.
• The Silmarillion in particularly is not Day’s strong point, but the book does improve with Parts VI and VII when he gets to The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, so perhaps he should have just stuck with those.

On the whole, I found The Heroes of Tolkien mostly a pretty package with insubstantial content, since it is not informative enough for beginners without some pre-existing familiarity with Tolkien’s work and feels lacklustre to someone who is a bit of a Tolkien nerd like me.