I
don't think I've ever wrote a review like this. In fact, I'm glad
that the author is dead log time ago, because what I have to say
would surely hurt his feelings.
This
book is crap. I hate everything about this book. And yes, I've read
the book all the way to the end, although I felt it was a waste of
precious time. This book has nothing to offer.
The
storyline is simple. One could almost claim it don't exist. In shot
terms, the story's about a man who lost his loved one. Years after
this tragic incident, we find our protagonist living in a huge
pyramid with the rest of mankind. The sun has burned out (how it
happened and how they was able to survive remains an unexplained
mystery), and outside this pyramid everything is a wasteland,
populated with monsters an animals. One day our protagonist receives
a message, indicating that his loved one is alive in another body.
Obsessed with the thought, he journey out in the wilderness to save
his girl. And that's almost all there is to the story.
The
writing style is hopeless beyond what's acceptable. A schoolkid could
do better. William Hope Hodgson repeats himself time and time
again, and his
vocabularies
seems
confined to the most basic words. He is not able to tell the story,
even though it is simple and uncomplicated with no twists whatsoever.
Most of the story describes our protagonist's journey in the
wasteland, but the author managed to destroy even the slightest
excitement, that might have been. The story ends up like a log,
measuring how many hours of sleep he get, how much he ate and drank
and how far he traveled so far. It's unbearable.
Our
protagonist seems to suffer from the delusion, that he's outstanding
in every aspect, and he don't miss any opportunities to praise his
own abilities and wit. But what makes the protagonist completely
unacceptable is his view of women. William Hope Hodgson describes
(not too good either) how our main character beats and whips his
girlfriend whenever she's seem to appear too willful and
self-confident. This protagonist is a poor excuse of a man, and don't
appear heroic in any way.
This
book was published in 1912, and if it reflects how women was treated
I general, I'm sure glad that I didn't live to see that.
