S.

                

      Okay, so the rundown is as follows: S. by JJ Abrams and Doug Dorst is a very good book. Erm...book/boxed set/art thing. It's similar in device to House of Leaves or Griffin and Sabine, though much more accessible and a little more straightforward and less mind-screwy than either of those. The story unfolds through a book called Ship of Theseus by the enigmatic author V.M. Straka, the footnotes and translation of his work by the equally enigmatic F.X. Caldera, and the margin notes of Jen and Eric, two people at the fictitious university known as PSU who communicate by passing the book back and forth after Jen finds Eric's copy in the university library's archives. 

                The good bit is that this is an engaging book with a lot of layers and some things open to interpretation. The small level of interactivity definitely helps with immersion, and the story that unfolds through the various texts are interesting enough to keep one engaged.

                   However, I cannot recommend the book due to the papers and notes and pictures stuffed between its pages (which make it hard to borrow, get out of a library, find used, or even read some passages whilst sitting in the wrong position), and the fact that the pages get incredibly busy in places, which does not allow the individual elements of the story to breathe. Also, the text of the fictional book, Ship of Theseus, kind of drags in places and is overshadowed by the real story. If you really think you'll like it, then chances are you may. If you're on the fence, I'd give this one a pass. You'll miss a good story, but since it's pretty much buy or nothing, it's only for those who are absolutely sure. 

More, as always, below.

The Fifty Year Sword

           

     The rundown is as follows: While The Fifty Year Sword is a great book and a good example of Mark Z. Danielewski's unique way of telling a story while turning it inside out, the gimmick of five separate narrators overlapping with different-colored quotation marks actually takes away from the story. By cluttering the relatively-short book with an unneeded visual gimmick, Danielewski does himself a disservice and creates a minor turn-off for people who would normally be into this kind of book. In its favor is the fact that it's essentially a children's book for adults, and hiding under the simplistic language is a genuinely creepy story that even when you guess the eventual ending manages to hold its tone and deliver something chilling. Despite the gimmick, the childlike language coupled with the eerie imagery creates a horror story that is at once instantly engaging and easy to understand. 

           The bad bit of course is the gimmick, which obscures a really cool book by having five people talk in nested quotation marks to tell a story. Please, once and future authors who read this blog, don't ever do this. Don't ever have your narrators narrate nested like this. More, as always, below.