Review by jasperhedon -- A Bloody Book by Chris Bowen
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Review by jasperhedon -- A Bloody Book by Chris Bowen
Chris Owen opens A Bloody Book with “I assure you. It will be a bloody book.” He keeps his word. The book is far from gory. The only organ he rips out is your heart and serves it on a bloody platter. My veneration for this book is a sieve, spewing buckets. The novel opens with an introduction that asks us to “Start for the story. Care for the characters. Stay for the twist.” Heed his advice.
The narrative is one we’ve experienced before, nothing new. Maxx, a down-trodden youth, seeks a smidgen of hope from a penurious life. He has drug-user-alcoholic-trash-parents, and a teacher with unorthodox methods, shaking hope into him like a bully scouring for spare change. The story grips you and ends with satisfaction. The theme is a message best remembered.
Maxx’s existence makes Harry Potter’s a utopia. Aunt Petunia cooked and baked. She didn’t microwave frozen-pizza and plop the gloppy-mess in a bowl. Harry’s clothes were oversized hand-me-downs from an obese cousin, but Dudley didn’t start with rags. Harry had a strict bedtime, forced to be silent. Boo-hoo. Maxx lay awake, hearkening to the narcotic-addled tumult of his junkie father beating his vapid mother. Amidst this is Maxx’s toddler sister, Rosie. A relative-mute who mimics words like a parrot because no one but Maxx considered her or provided any kindness. I wanted to adopt Maxx and Rosie both, but I couldn’t—they’re imaginary.
I’m a fanatical horror-buff, but I didn’t want this book to result in carnage. I won’t spoil the twist, but I didn’t see it coming. It leaves you thinking. Beware of Uncle Johnny. I’ve never been more on edge.
I rate A Bloody Book 3 out of 4 stars. Excellent though it may be, there are a handful of elementary blunders, but my fascination was suitable enough to blaze past them. The book reads as if penned by a mediocre high-school student, which from the novel’s perspective, it was. Owen did such an admirable job capturing the voice of an adolescent narrator that I presumed it was a true story written by a teenager. This wasn’t a good thing. The prose was burdensome and peppered with filler words, like a high-school essay.
Nevertheless, I recommend A Bloody Book to anybody who can lift a book and read. If you’re incapable, I suggest the audio-book. If you’re deaf and blind, have it traced, letter by letter, on your skin.
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A Bloody Book
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