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Death of Originality
This was a sum of so many mainstream occult movies/books spanning over 15 years rolled into a weak 600 page blathering of nothing. I had some glimmer of hope when I read the free preview that this might be interesting, however it chose to prove me most wrong. This is living proof that any story that has a two or more occult themes entwined in its pages can be published regardless if there is no definitive plot, no action, no romance, excessive mundane details or bland and static characters. In this book Harry Potter is a girl, who like Sandra Bullock in practical magic doesn't want to use magic because "it killed her parents", who like hermoine likes to read ancient things to try and pretend she's doing science, bumps into and falls instantly in love with a very old and very old fashion hybrid of a wealthy Edward and wolfy Jacob (blood sucker with pack like mentality and wolf like diet, with french inclination to drink the vineyards dry). She discovers she has the ability to be "godlike and more powerful than any witch ever" (no doubt being a fictional vicarious life of a closeted witch who teaches history, writes bad romance novels and secretly wishes she was special). Because of this the evil creature tribunal is dead set on destroying there cross breeding relationship because they might god forbid have children! Blah, blah, blah.
This is not a romance novel. Even twilight had a sexual/sensual moments. The vampire in this book marries her in two weeks, but doesn't intend to consummate the marriage until she reaches menopause, because after 1500 years he's still not ready for children. I never felt any spark of passion between them and her so called love for him felt more like a teenage crush with a older guy that parents warn their daughters about, but they never listen. It's not even historical fiction. Making references to famous historical names and the "origin of species" does not a scientific approach to life and the occult make. This book is like a Randy Newman song. It's a play by play of the most mundane details of life. She eats, sleeps, eats, sleeps...searches for tea, eats, sleeps.
Then the book ends and you realize that after 600 pages there is no conclusion. This book belonged on the shelves of bad new age fiction. I may not get my life back...but at least I'll get my 20 bucks back.
February 2011 · Books