★★★☆☆.5
This book was good, I love VE Schwab’s writing style, it is the most poetic prose that I’ve encountered in a long time. I’m a fan of stories that are gentle, and don’t have crazy battle scenes or fast paced action, but I never got really hooked into this like I thought it was. Maybe I was coming in with too high expectations since so many people have absolutely adored it and sobbed at the end and so forth. It just never demanded to be picked up and read. I could always put it down at any point.
I really enjoyed the beginning with Addie in France, I loved her grappling with the possibility of a pointless and static life (I feel that), and her initial meeting with the darkness. And then I didn’t enjoy it quite so much, but when Henry was introduced that definitely picked up the interest. He’s such an interesting, and to me, relatable character in so many ways. Also, a cat called Book will always make me happy. I really liked the ending, the last 5-10 pages I thought were such a great way to end the book, but also not really where I thought was going which was a good note to end the book.
I don’t know, it was just missing something for me but I can’t really put my finger on it. Don’t get me wrong, overall I really enjoyed it, but it just isn’t 5 stars for me.
“What she needs are stories. Stories are a way to preserve one’s self. To be remembered. And to forget. Stories come in so many forms: in charcoal, and in song, in paintings, poems, films. And books. Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.”
VE Schwab