I keep trying to pick up books that, to me, count as more than filling time. I don’t get much free time, and there are way too many books I want to read. So, I always try to sort the wheat from the chaff, which is usually okay. However, the same trend sets in every time I am busily immersed in thinking and writing. I end up reading simple straight forward, and in the end not much interest, fiction.  It’s usually okay because there are many many books that fit this profile and are perfectly brilliant. Yet the last few days have seen me turning the pages of David Devereux’s Hunter’s Moon, and I don’t know why I continue to do so. I think it’s to do with not finishing books. I do my best to give books the benefit of the doubt by finishing them. Also, this means I get to know what happened, even if it’s dire, and I have a complete experience. I also have great respect for anyone who has work published, it’s still an achievement worth acknowledging.

The problem with Hunter’s Moon is that it is not entertaining for me, and the talk of magic and magicians etc are only talk. We here and see very little actual magic in any in depth way. We get more indepth descriptions of brain-washing and an actual example of a character going through the processes described. Both of which are key to our understanding of what is happening and the behaviour of one of the characters. Yet, in the end it relegates the magic, and makes it feel tacked on. This ends up being a novel that can function perfectly well without magic being an actual ‘real’ thing in the book. Yes it’s about cultists and the S&M sex scene, the two things modern pop-cultural magic is connected to. But it fees flat and ineffectual.

The problem is that the characters also feel ineffectual. I don’t mean they don’t do anything, I mean they do not move me, or make me feel anything for them. I don’t even feel they are real, and it feels like they couldn’t possibly be living in the same casual domain as us, which renders the attempt at making this happen in the ‘real’ world, farcical.

It is frustrating that I could go on and on. I could continue to expose the problems I have with the book, which I am am not going to do. I don’t like the book, but I am sure others do, and this post isn’t meant as a review. Instead, this post is meant to remind me, by pouring out the words, and making them public, why I need to control and think about my reading more, and work out what it is that I want from my reading and why.

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