Entry tags:
Nona the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir
Nona the Ninth
4/5. I mean, either you know what the what is here by now or you don’t. Gonzo religiosity, goth hilarity, space war, and memes. And doggos.
So this book was supposed to be the first part of the final book in the trilogy, but it grew its own story. It’s an enjoyable story, in its odd way. Our main character is very intellectually and emotionally immature, and she spends big chunks of this book wrapped up in the concerns of her (wonderful) gang of kid friends, so this book has this strange confluence of a YA foil wrapping over, you know, necromantic horror. It works.
What I’m still chewing on is the other strand of this narrative, which supplies us with an actual explanation roughly connecting a recognizable Earth to the horrifying zombie empire of these books. Including an explanation for why everyone speaks in Tumblr memes. Which, IDK man, I did not want that explained? Somehow this universe worked better when supported only by vibes, you know?
It is in keeping with this book, though. It blows the doors off the hothouse feel of the prior books, which kept the action constrained to tightly-regulated settings populated almost entirely by aristocrats. This book asserts that no, there really are actual people in this universe living their lives, loving their dogs, going to school, growing up amongst the violent horrors of war. And again . . . I don’t know if I wanted this? It makes the series as a whole much better, far less flimsy, but, how do I say this? I did not want to take this universe seriously at all. I wanted it to be a weird shell of body horror and tumblr memes over some great character work, and now it has, like, depths. IDK man, bring back the vibes.
Content notes: I mean, serious grossness with bodies, obviously. Violence. The dog is okay, though.
4/5. I mean, either you know what the what is here by now or you don’t. Gonzo religiosity, goth hilarity, space war, and memes. And doggos.
So this book was supposed to be the first part of the final book in the trilogy, but it grew its own story. It’s an enjoyable story, in its odd way. Our main character is very intellectually and emotionally immature, and she spends big chunks of this book wrapped up in the concerns of her (wonderful) gang of kid friends, so this book has this strange confluence of a YA foil wrapping over, you know, necromantic horror. It works.
What I’m still chewing on is the other strand of this narrative, which supplies us with an actual explanation roughly connecting a recognizable Earth to the horrifying zombie empire of these books. Including an explanation for why everyone speaks in Tumblr memes. Which, IDK man, I did not want that explained? Somehow this universe worked better when supported only by vibes, you know?
It is in keeping with this book, though. It blows the doors off the hothouse feel of the prior books, which kept the action constrained to tightly-regulated settings populated almost entirely by aristocrats. This book asserts that no, there really are actual people in this universe living their lives, loving their dogs, going to school, growing up amongst the violent horrors of war. And again . . . I don’t know if I wanted this? It makes the series as a whole much better, far less flimsy, but, how do I say this? I did not want to take this universe seriously at all. I wanted it to be a weird shell of body horror and tumblr memes over some great character work, and now it has, like, depths. IDK man, bring back the vibes.
Content notes: I mean, serious grossness with bodies, obviously. Violence. The dog is okay, though.