A Feast for Crows
Nov. 28th, 2015 06:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beccaelizabethI read this book. I actually stayed up really late reading this book. Getting more and more annoyed.
It's a dingy grim little caricature where humans lack much of their normal faculties, let alone emotional range.
And I know it's useless to complain about women not being allowed to be competent when the entire series is an epic tale of how everyone fucks up repeatedly and dies, but, I'm really bored of how women aren't allowed to be competent, and then terrible and gendered things happen to them because of that incompetence. Incompetence I can't even believe because they're just implausibly bad at things that ought to be their whole actual lives and core skill set.
so I read the book, and I got annoyed with it, and I closed it feeling super grumpy, and then I went to bed and thought about other things entirely (specifically James Bond in Torchwood, which isn't even one of my favourite thoughts, it was just an improvement on that stupid book)
and yet
I'm going to go to the library and pick up the other books
because we still don't know what happened to most of the people we were following
and the stupid darn thing never ends so we never get to a satisfying point where we know enough.
it's like genius, but really really pissing me off.
ugh.
*sigh*
It's a dingy grim little caricature where humans lack much of their normal faculties, let alone emotional range.
And I know it's useless to complain about women not being allowed to be competent when the entire series is an epic tale of how everyone fucks up repeatedly and dies, but, I'm really bored of how women aren't allowed to be competent, and then terrible and gendered things happen to them because of that incompetence. Incompetence I can't even believe because they're just implausibly bad at things that ought to be their whole actual lives and core skill set.
so I read the book, and I got annoyed with it, and I closed it feeling super grumpy, and then I went to bed and thought about other things entirely (specifically James Bond in Torchwood, which isn't even one of my favourite thoughts, it was just an improvement on that stupid book)
and yet
I'm going to go to the library and pick up the other books
because we still don't know what happened to most of the people we were following
and the stupid darn thing never ends so we never get to a satisfying point where we know enough.
it's like genius, but really really pissing me off.
ugh.
*sigh*