This is a very good book, but not in the normal sense of "It's creative and I really enjoyed it." This is a good book in the sense of, "It's well-written and hard-hitting and important."
I didn't even really ship the main characters that much. Not because they weren't full, interesting characters, or because they didn't suit each other well—they absolutely did. What I mean is, I didn't ship it in the sense that I didn't think, "This is adorable and/or dynamic and/or exciting and I want to see it happen!!" It was a much more solemn sense of, "I see this, and I understand and respect it, and I give you characters my blessing."
And I think that's fairly representative of the book as a whole—this book isn't adorable or thrilling. It's gritty and grim and painfully realistic. And I also think the me-not-exactly-shipping-it aspect is also reflective of the theme of the book: Why your opinion, you not shipping it, hold any sway over a situation that doesn't concern you?
Book don't make me cry that often, but I was sobbing at the end of this one. This is a good book, a solid book. It's well-written, the characters are believable and complex. (I particularly adored Kit, disaster that he was.) After I read it, I felt older, wiser, more solemn, more compassionate.
Read Forbidden to expand your horizons, to open your heart. Read it to challenge yourself. I feel like it would be a really good book for an English teacher to use in class—if they had the nerve—because it's meaningful.
If you're looking for a fun, imaginative, creative book, look somewhere else. It's not the kind of book you recommend to your friend saying, "You just have to read this, you'd love it!"
Well-written; important; grim; realistic
This is a very good book, but not in the normal sense of "It's creative and I really enjoyed it." This is a good book in the sense of, "It's well-written and hard-hitting and important."
I didn't even really ship the main characters that much. Not because they weren't full, interesting characters, or because they didn't suit each other well—they absolutely did. What I mean is, I didn't ship it in the sense that I didn't think, "This is adorable and/or dynamic and/or exciting and I want to see it happen!!" It was a much more solemn sense of, "I see this, and I understand and respect it, and I give you characters my blessing."
And I think that's fairly representative of the book as a whole—this book isn't adorable or thrilling. It's gritty and grim and painfully realistic. And I also think the me-not-exactly-shipping-it aspect is also reflective of the theme of the book: Why your opinion, you not shipping it, hold any sway over a situation that doesn't concern you?
Book don't make me cry that often, but I was sobbing at the end of this one. This is a good book, a solid book. It's well-written, the characters are believable and complex. (I particularly adored Kit, disaster that he was.) After I read it, I felt older, wiser, more solemn, more compassionate.
Read Forbidden to expand your horizons, to open your heart. Read it to challenge yourself. I feel like it would be a really good book for an English teacher to use in class—if they had the nerve—because it's meaningful.
If you're looking for a fun, imaginative, creative book, look somewhere else. It's not the kind of book you recommend to your friend saying, "You just have to read this, you'd love it!"