I’ve never really questioned why there was a gingerbread house in Hansel and Gretel. Or why it seems to be something that is repeated across fairy tales. After all, it is a really impractical and useless way in which to make a house. And it kind of seems just… sticky to live in.
This is a great ending to a really fantastic series. It ties up all of the lose ends and follows the same level of cuteness that I’ve loved throughout the rest of the storyline. Yet, where most of the finales I’ve read have involved a lot of exposition to tie up all of the lose ends, this ending doesn’t. The vast majority of this story is taken up by the battle.
I’m kind of on the fence about this collection. Some of the stories in this were brilliant. Some downright weird. But all were enjoyable. Just not memorable. This is the kind of collection you read for a good, light laugh and something that isn’t going to make you think and linger in your mind’s eye after you’ve finished the story.
The Drowned Kingdom pulls together all of the little story threads that have been slowly released throughout the first three books of the series. The interconnectivity of the characters, the plots that span a lifetime. It is all revealed. But not completely. Just tied in well enough that you know the final reveals and the completion of the tapestry which Kate Forsyth has created will be a thoroughly enjoyable experience.
There was quite a bit of jealousy in this short story. Jealousy of another’s position, but also a little bit of frustration in not accepting the different benefits that one has. For the chickadee, being constantly on the ground allows her to see the world from an entirely different perspective from that of the sparrow who constantly flies.
In all of the Kate Forsyth books / series that I’ve read, one of my favourite things has always been the character development. Even in series such as The Impossible Quest, which is aimed at youngsters, as the stories grow, so do the children. And I think that (at least so far) The Beast of Blackmoor Bog shows the most growth. Especially in the two boys.
This is my second Seanan McGuire short story (the first being The Mathematical Inevitability of Corvids) and it is just as twisted! In a less sick, going to kill someone way. But in a twisting of words and riddling kind of way. After finishing each paragraph I would take a deep breath. Just because the way the sentences stream into one another was so intensely done that I wouldn’t breathe. It almost worked like one whole sentence.
This is my first ever Jack the Ripper retelling. Or alternate history. And I kind of thought that it was a nice, gentle introduction. Especially since I know next to nothing about Jack the Ripper in the first place. Bertie not only pulled me in immediately, but it also made me want to read far more stories like this (so lucky I have a whole collection to dig through).
The entire time I was reading this short story, I was remembering watching the movie Thumbelina as a kid. And how much I truly loved it. And then, when the little film reel in my head stopped, I started thinking about the original Hans Christian Andersen tale that I read only a few months ago.
I decided to start reading the I Am Heathcliff collection because I was so damn disappointed and frustrated by Wuthering Heights. So, in my slightly twisty mind, I figured that reading a collection of Wuthering Heights inspired stories might help me to understand a little more as to just why everyone seems to love this classic so much. And, although this didn’t highlight why people love the storyline, this short story that started the collection certainly reflected most of my feelings about the storyline.