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A review by versmonesprit
Stranger to the Moon by Evelio Rosero
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
0.25
You should just read the blurb and imagine the rest, because I guarantee it’ll be a miles better story than what you actually get here.
For just the briefest moment, this book was brilliant. It was captivating, it was moving, and I couldn’t wait for it to be a lyrical and powerful journey. Instead, it went on and on and on and on and on and on about the most boring and repetitive “atrocities” committed by the Clothed people against the Naked people. I say “atrocities” because these too become dull and monotonous as they lose their horrifying effectiveness to the never-ending repetition to the point this just turns into a meandering, pestering sob story. The entire book is a singular info-dump that repeats a point that was already made by the third page. It’s too much of nothing to ever be considered an allegory, and by the end all I felt was just utter disgust against the narrator, likely for putting me through this drivel but also because my patience was worn too thin to have any sort of sympathy for any repulsive man be it an oppressed one or an oppressor. It just awoke my inner Valerie Solanas.
Even at less than 100 pages, this book was unforgivably overdrawn. You should never stretch out a story that merits no more than 7 pages. Brevity is your friend, especially when you want a story to make an impact.
For just the briefest moment, this book was brilliant. It was captivating, it was moving, and I couldn’t wait for it to be a lyrical and powerful journey. Instead, it went on and on and on and on and on and on about the most boring and repetitive “atrocities” committed by the Clothed people against the Naked people. I say “atrocities” because these too become dull and monotonous as they lose their horrifying effectiveness to the never-ending repetition to the point this just turns into a meandering, pestering sob story. The entire book is a singular info-dump that repeats a point that was already made by the third page. It’s too much of nothing to ever be considered an allegory, and by the end all I felt was just utter disgust against the narrator, likely for putting me through this drivel but also because my patience was worn too thin to have any sort of sympathy for any repulsive man be it an oppressed one or an oppressor. It just awoke my inner Valerie Solanas.
Even at less than 100 pages, this book was unforgivably overdrawn. You should never stretch out a story that merits no more than 7 pages. Brevity is your friend, especially when you want a story to make an impact.