opheliapo's reviews
345 reviews

I have enjoyed this story over several platforms, and the stars I gave go entirely to that. The artwork, however, is where it lost me. Perhaps it is just because the movie adaptation is so packed with creative design, but the art in this really fell flat for me. I didn’t enjoy the style nor felt that it conveyed the creepiness of the story particularly well.

‘She knows she has a curse on her,
A curse she cannot win.
For is someone gets
Too close to her,

The pins stick farther in.’

I have owned this book for at least nine years, and every time I pick it up afresh it seems entirely new to me.
I don't give much merit to Burton's poetry itself, but The Melancholy Death of Oyster boy is a quirky little book, and will remain on my shelf, hopefully, for many years to come.

A solid, plot driven read which doesn’t hold back on anything. The aesthetic of the setting was well established, and not at all cliché or overdone (in fact it’s one of the few examples i’ve seen of steampunk done well). The plot was nonstop, but this came with a mild lack of character development, which nonetheless comes with the genre. ‘Books for teenage boys’ are so often focused on substantial action and movement that they do sacrifice some character development, but considering I am neither a boy nor a teenager (anymore), I can forgive Philip Reeve for this minor offence, as the book was clearly not written for me, categorically speaking.
The ending was mildly gratuitous, but it was better than a happily-ever-after alternative would have been.
Over all, a solid book that I would recommend to anybody between the ages of, maybe, 12-16.

What a twist, what a twist, what a twist, what a mighty good twist (mighty, mighty good twist).

‘I wanted to get somebody for him. I wanted to go into the room where he lay and reassure him: “I’ll get somebody for you, Gatsby. Don’t worry. Just trust me and I’ll get somebody for you -“‘

I was woefully disinterested in this book until Gatsby dropped (possibly due to the plot being so widely known that all sense of mystery and tension were lost for me).
But I ached for Gatsby in the aftermath, and read those final, poignant lines in a sort of flat state, as if drowned in the reality of that fiction.

Sweet and smooth, but a little soft and sickly.
Chocolat was a simple indulgence; neither sensational nor groundbreaking, but rich with small pleasures.

So sweet, so honest.

This instalment managed to keep up the pace and tone of the last two without becoming stale or repetitive. I would say, however, that there were a few parts that seemed a little tacked on for forced inclusivity (the single mention of self harm) or fanservice (three teachers in the characters’ grade all happening to be gay) that took me out of the story a little. Still looking forward to the next release, though!

I knew that I would love Neil Gaiman’s plot weaving since Coraline crossed my path, but I’m now afraid that i’m about to fall headlong into a full-blown addiction.