This is not a bad book, I want to clarify this before I go any further. What it is is a potentially great book that fails to reach its potential.
The story of a boy who grew up with his grandfather's bizarre fairytales only to realise in his teenage years that they can't be real... or can they...? I won't go too far into the story, I wouldn't be able to explain it without it sounding over complicated and silly, when it really is neither.
This story wanted to be 2nd World War allegory, it wanted to be X-Men, it wanted to be 'boy thinks he's normal but turns out to have powers'. But really it should have picked one and run with it. It was as Tolkien said "like butter scraped over too much bread", the book was too long for the narrative and the story wasn't entirely completed (of which in the end I was glad as I couldn't see where it was going).
The setting of a tiny Welsh island seemed forced, and without any reason. It seemed too easy for Jacob (whose name I just had to look up... that says a lot) to get there from America without too much justification. The 'big bads' of the story were basically non-existant throughout the middle of the story, and entirely unthreatening by the end. It started off delightfully creepy and ended not so...
I just. I was underwhelmed.
And I know it's a first novel. But it needed a good editor to take the scissors and glue to it and say develop this more, show not tell, this is too contrived, get rid of this.
The photos were a lovely element, but gorgeous packaging does not a great novel make.
And this was perfectly fine YA fodder, it didn't pander, it wasn't offensive in any way. Some of the characters were quite charming and anyone who knows me well will know I love pyro-kinetic characters, but this time, a girl who could make fire wasn't enough for me.
Sorry Ransom Riggs. Don't let it stop you from trying again, I do believe you have a great story in you, this just isn't it.
6/10
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