The Book starts on a blah note and ends on one. The unlikely named Corroman Strike is dull and just plain whiney and wallows in self-pity.
It seems strange that he ever was a military man considering, how can never get over things. New characters are introduced almost every chapter and they fail to engage you. Yet we see Rowling working hard to make us see what she sees in these characters, but fails to do so as they are non-entities.
They plot can develop without most of these. The only ones needed were Corroman, The Brother, The Uncle and the film producer and his wife; the others were merely props in the book who came and went as randomly as they appeared. The book fails to draw you into the story and midway through the story you’ve already guessed the culprit.
Furthermore, it’s a poor attempt to show us the “glamorous” lives of models and designers. J.K. just seems to be making baseless assumptions, for it is evident that she has neither experienced the lifestyle first hand nor has she bothered to witness it as an outside spectator. Adding more to the agitation of a reader who’s intelligence is clearly being questioned in this parable, which has a tongue in check moral: love all your kids equally, Rowling throws in a generic gay (Guy Somé) and insults the fashion industry where Guy says something along the lines of “oh those t shirts? I just slap my label on them and they sell like hot cakes”.
She further comments on a rockstar being effeminate, attributing it to being too close to women all the time. Rowling clearly has a strong degree of homophobia and her perception of ‘real men’ is similar to that of ancient Sparta, where brawn and butchness were considered manly.
This isn’t the first time J.K has shown a moderately strong character to be disheveled, messy and a somewhat ugly human. Strike is one of them and Hermione Granger was one in the former books.
The pubs, the streets, the city all seem so distant and unreal. The reader will find it ever so hard to be engaged in the book because it is so blatantly fictitious. The unnecessary will-they, won’t-they going on between Corroman and Robin (his temp) is so high school and makes one want to facepalm every time it is suggested.
This story makes you yearn for something more, but Rowling fails to deliver. Honesty, it needed an editor with a bigger red pen and a stronger will power. This book just shows Rowling’s arrogance when it comes to her writing and how she refuses to be challenged. If I wrote a book that could’ve ended within 150 pages, but dragged on for 600 plus pages, I too would want to write under a pseudo name, just like Rowling.
All in all this book was D-, because even with the flawed storyline, poor character development and unrealistic scenarios Rowling makes four or five keen and precise observations, which would perhaps be better suited on a panel show, where they’d be acknowledged and not seem absurdly out of context
It seems strange that he ever was a military man considering, how can never get over things. New characters are introduced almost every chapter and they fail to engage you. Yet we see Rowling working hard to make us see what she sees in these characters, but fails to do so as they are non-entities.
They plot can develop without most of these. The only ones needed were Corroman, The Brother, The Uncle and the film producer and his wife; the others were merely props in the book who came and went as randomly as they appeared. The book fails to draw you into the story and midway through the story you’ve already guessed the culprit.
Furthermore, it’s a poor attempt to show us the “glamorous” lives of models and designers. J.K. just seems to be making baseless assumptions, for it is evident that she has neither experienced the lifestyle first hand nor has she bothered to witness it as an outside spectator. Adding more to the agitation of a reader who’s intelligence is clearly being questioned in this parable, which has a tongue in check moral: love all your kids equally, Rowling throws in a generic gay (Guy Somé) and insults the fashion industry where Guy says something along the lines of “oh those t shirts? I just slap my label on them and they sell like hot cakes”.
She further comments on a rockstar being effeminate, attributing it to being too close to women all the time. Rowling clearly has a strong degree of homophobia and her perception of ‘real men’ is similar to that of ancient Sparta, where brawn and butchness were considered manly.
This isn’t the first time J.K has shown a moderately strong character to be disheveled, messy and a somewhat ugly human. Strike is one of them and Hermione Granger was one in the former books.
The pubs, the streets, the city all seem so distant and unreal. The reader will find it ever so hard to be engaged in the book because it is so blatantly fictitious. The unnecessary will-they, won’t-they going on between Corroman and Robin (his temp) is so high school and makes one want to facepalm every time it is suggested.
This story makes you yearn for something more, but Rowling fails to deliver. Honesty, it needed an editor with a bigger red pen and a stronger will power. This book just shows Rowling’s arrogance when it comes to her writing and how she refuses to be challenged. If I wrote a book that could’ve ended within 150 pages, but dragged on for 600 plus pages, I too would want to write under a pseudo name, just like Rowling.
All in all this book was D-, because even with the flawed storyline, poor character development and unrealistic scenarios Rowling makes four or five keen and precise observations, which would perhaps be better suited on a panel show, where they’d be acknowledged and not seem absurdly out of context