Disappointing, aggravating, and derivative
342350
This was a deeply frustrating book to read. I enjoyed Cline's debut novel, and I really wanted to like this one too, but it badly missed the mark. Very little in this book makes sense, from the characters' actions to the world's response to an alien threat to the mechanics of battles and everything else the book describes; it all reads like Cline chose chose overall plots for the world and for the main character, then awkwardly shoehorned everything else into the book to fit.

Characters: For everyone but the protagonist, instead of asking "How would a person act in this situation?" Cline asks "How must this person act in order to make the main character's arc move the way I want it to?"

Global-scale decisions: instead of asking "How would important people respond to this kind of threat?" He asks "How must important people respond to this kind of threat in order to set up the world the way I want it to be set up?" (Example: The enemy will be able to disable all our defenses except for those controlled by people at location X. How many people should we put at location X? Let's go with eight.")

Mechanics: Instead of asking "How can I set up a battle that the reader can follow and that makes sense?" He... well, he doesn't ask anything. People repeatedly take impossibly complex actions in five-second periods. An amazing hacker is capable of hacking exactly the right set of things to move the plot in the right direction. The spaceships in the book are capable of moving 4% of the speed of light, but are regularly taken out by self-destruct sequences with a range of 100 metres (they must be within 7 milliseconds of each other, even at only 1/1000th speed!).

Every decision by everyone, as well as the results of things like combat and hacking, is chosen arbitrarily by the author. The reader is led by the nose, and can only anticipate what will happen when the author's intent is obvious... which, due to extensive foreshadowing, it is. The intrigue at the centre of the novelwhy are the aliens acting this way?falls flat because *nobody* acts in reasonable ways, so as a reader I don't trust Cline to come up with a satisfying resolution. And he doesn't: at the end of the book the main character is left saying "Hmm, some of this still doesn't make sense."

The premise of the book is heavily lampshaded, but it doesn't help. Saying "There's a good in-world reason why this book's plot has been done so many times" doesn't mean the book isn't simply reusing an old plot and adding very little of value.

There, that's my post-book anger-management therapy.
1776490
Because, first and foremost, they're professors who have spent their whole lives talking only to each other and their long-suffering students.  Go to any page in this very disappointing work and you'll find the dead hand of turgid academic prose.  The author may be using English words, but this is lit'ry criticism at its most obscure and self-referential.  I found his point that you couldn't have prehistoric fiction until you had the concept of evolution to be interesting, but if you love to read Jean Auel and her compatriots (nonewithstanding the crushingly disappointing Land of Painted Caves which played her fans for suckers) this is not the book to learn about the genre.  If on the other hand you're a university professor, you may find this as stimulating as have the other reviewers.
To give a bit of background, I have a Ph. D in modern European history from U of Chicago, my wife is a political scientist, I teach in the School of Foreign Service at Georgetown, and for decades we have found that our disciplines have strayed so far from the real world that most of our academic friends are embarassed to describe their pointlessly theoretical "research interests" to us. In my view, most people interested in popular fiction are interested in a compelling story and good writing.  They would like to be pointed toward other authors and stories they might enjoy, and they probably will be interested in hearing about alternate perspectives and story arcs--in other words, they're looking for the literary equivalent of Roger Ebert or Netflix recommendations.  That's certainly why I bought this book, and since you linked it to Auel, I would think that many potential buyers would share my motivation.  Unless you wax nostalgic for your graduate lit seminars don't be fooled.  Even Donald Sutherland in "Animal House" was honest about how boring and pointless academic literary study can be, and you don't have to be Bluto to agree.
4815331
As he did in his Recluce universe, Modesitt has written a prequel to his earlier Corean Chronicles Trilogy ("Legacies," "Darknesses," "Scepters"). This novel concludes that prequel trilogy, following "Cadmian's Choice" and "Alector's Choice." And it suffers from two problems: the Prequel Problem and Modesitt's apparent limitations as a writer.

The Prequel Problem in unavoidable. Readers of the earlier books know from the earlier trilogy what is going to happen: the Ifrits will get wiped out, leaving mysterious ruins and dangerous artifacts. After all, it's the world of the first trilogy. An author writing any prequel has to work hard to make that prequel interesting. It's hard to create surprises. Modesitt tries to muster a surprise here, but he telegraphs what will happen.

The other, and more irritating problem, is what seems to be a limitation on Modesitt's own creativity. The Ifrits - the bad guys - advance over the bodies of their superiors. As an idea, it's derivative all the way back to E. E. "Doc" Smith's Lensmen series, although Modesitt's corpses discretely vanish into ashes or dust. More annoyingly, it's the same idea he used in the "bad guy" Recluce books, where the Cyadorans and the White Order wizards murder their way to the top. Basically, the plot line is that a good bad guy nukes his way to the top of the political order. Ho hum. Read that before, and more than once.

It's also annoying to have Mykel, the human protagonist, shuffled off to Iron Stem. What promised new plots and new ideas in the first two books of this trilogy was the interaction between the Ifrit Dainyl and the human Mykel. But that interaction is missing in "Soarer's Choice;" they might as well be in different books. The failure to bring the two protagonists together magnifies the sense of repetition of plot lines. Also annoying is Modesitt's continuing inability to right a sexually charged scene, or even a credible man-woman relationship.

Which is a shame, because Modesitt builds interesting plot lines, characters that behave consistently, and fairly plausible universes. True, in the entire Corean Chronicles the allegory gets tiresome: powerful race is forced to move from world to world as it consumes a critical resource.

But despite all of its flaws, Modesitt writes better and his novels are more interesting than three-quarters of what passes for fantasy and science fiction today. In books like "The Eternity Artifact" he has proven he can write much better books. But I'll give this three stars for a tidy finish. Recommended to those who can't figure out on their own how it all comes outt.
910564
It is said you should write about what you know, and sadly I think the authors of The Rule of Four have done just that--at least as far it concerns the agonies of deciding which campus house to pledge. The rest of book, the unraveling of yet another literary mystery, is an overwrought effort that takes itself so seriously with so little to go on, that in the end its passions seem little more than the passions of priggish intellectuals and children who have done all their living in books. Most of the elegant bits of so-called philosophy that pad out this uninteresting romp in supposed suspense unravel at the slightest scrutiny into prettily phrased cliches completely lacking in substance or original thought. Read in this context, The Rule of Four provides a poor argument to support its overarching theme - the lasting value of Art.
3903641
This was an EXTREMELY disappointing book. I have been a longtime fan of the series and have eagerly awaited sequels...until now. The great parts that I think many fans like such as the brotherly bond between Cal and Niko, Cal's identity/power struggles, the conniving irreverence of Robin, Niko's superhuman ability to keep everything together, and the threat of some creature of unknown power/destruction that the trio have to overcome has been a fairly standard pattern for the books. And it usually works.

But here, it's almost as if the author heard that fans like the Cal/Niko co-dependence and Robin's sexual ridiculousness, and Cal's over-the-top violence/foul mouth and decided to write a book that is 75% comprised of those elements (with a noticeable increase in violence, graphic descriptions, and general crudity)  and about 15% plot (and it's a decent enough idea for a plot). The unbalance of plot and these elements is so extreme that this book is almost unrecognizable from previous stories. While Thurman has tended toward repetition in some of the more recent installments (same phrases and ideas over and over again, we get it already), this book is by far the worst offender. The grand pronouncements and speeches different characters make at different points to each other are over-the-top bonkers, pretentious, unrealistic, and furthermore, completely unnecessary. Oh, and also the retconning of Cal's childhood continues (in that he apparently was always conniving, crude, and somewhat terrible, despite the first 1-5 books' depictions), which is also annoying.

Here are some examples of what I mean (minor spoilers):
1) Cal and Robin are running away from things that they can't defeat. So they're running for their lives. How in the world could they have a meandering multipage conversation of Cal whining about how Robin doesn't trust him despite all Cal has done in previous lives for Robin? I mean, seriously, this is neither the time nor the place to be having this kind of conversation that is completely tangent from the main story.

2) And another tangential story that takes WAY too long to convey is Cal and Loki meeting. Which is pretty much completely prima donna posturing nonsense between Cal, Loki, and Robin (who also seems to get more and more retconned into having additional powers), and also does not seem to have impact or payoff in this story.

3) The ridiculous melodrama after younger Cal lets older Cal fall asleep. And oh no older Cal has bad dreams. And everyone suddenly hates younger Cal for "betraying" him. I mean, seriously, WHAT? Completely unnecessary, stupid whining and whinging. The inconsequential angst and stupidity of everyone involved has hit 11 with that one.

Part of why my review is so negative is my love of the series as a whole, and I'm disappointed it has come to this. If there wasn't so much repetition and ridiculous filler, there wouldn't need to be "two" books for this story (looks as though the fluff/filler was to stretch this story into 2 books, rather than adding some more interesting twists; we hardly even meet the bad guy. I think this would have been a better story if we see more of the brothers' running battle with the Vigil and then getting intel on the new Big Bad that culminates with the opening scene, and then ends with Cal going back to fix things. That would be a more worthy two-parter. So much of what happens with the Vigil since the last book occurs "off-screen" so to speak that it is very unsatisfying.) I hope Thurman gets a good editor and can turn this mess around with the next book.
775879
In turn, and often simultaneously appalling and annoying, this very unpleasant author, a PhD historian, who, as an "activist" also fancies herself a scientist.  She tries to make, with varying success, three major points:
1. Scientists are supposed to be wholly objective, and willing to discard long-held, cherished ideas and concepts when the data arise to contradict them.  Thus is the nature of a scientific revolution or paradigm shift.
2. Scientists instead, (especially those who disagree with the author) are petty, vindictive and generally disgusting people, who become activists in their own cause, willing to stoop to ad hominem attacks to destroy their "opponents."
3. Since the author herself has been so poorly treated by her opponents, she is completely justified in becoming an activist herself, and indulging in petty, vindictive behavior herself.
Sometimes on the same page she will criticize a scientist who disagrees with her for making logical or ethical errors, only to do exactly the same thing herself.
I would certainly never want to spend any time in person with this author.  The entire book is a polemic against those who disagree with her not airtight theories.
2825855
I think what was most tiring about this book -- and most disappointing, because I really looked forward to reading it -- was all the names and unfamiliar terms which were often not explained, and the pointless details which seemed to lead nowhere.

I struggled through the entire book to figure out what the plot was.  It wasn't about growing up Muslim in America.  I have read other books with that premise as a very legitimate and readable plot.  This book was not one of them.  If it's what the author intended, then she's just not a good writer.  I suspect, however, that it's nothing more than poorly constructed fiction as a thinly-disguised platform for the author's personal views and experiences. The ending was terribly disappointing and stretched the limits of credulity more than any other book I can remember reading.

I see that some others enjoyed the book, but I don't mind being in the minority.  I'm giving it two stars instead of one because there were a few parts of the book which are briefly interesting until you realize they are extraneous and relatively without purpose.  This is not a book I can recommend.
3942467
As I read this book by Dan Brown, I wanted to be drawn in, to examine and enjoy the puzzles, and to ride the chases to satisfactory conclusions. None of these things occurred. Instead I was plunged headlong into a piece of anti-Christian propaganda not unlike the anti-Semitic Protocols of the Elders of Zion. What Mr. Brown is selling is nothing more than Gnosticism in the guise of 'history.' In many places his characters reassure us that everything about the Goddess Cult and Mary Magdalene is 'historical fact.' Of course it is no such thing. The Gnostic gospels were written after the synoptic Gospels (upon which the 'Passion of the Christ' was based) and are far more likely to be inaccurate than are the traditional Christian canonical writings.
The attempt by Mr. Brown to convince us that the goddess cult and the 'divine feminine' are somehow superior to the Christian and Jewish faiths is pitiful. Think a minute about the pagan cults of old: 1. They were murderous, brutal, and intolerant. Christians were slaughtered for centuries by these enlightened pagans who worshipped the 'goddess.' 2. Human sacrifice (along with cannibalism) was a hallmark of paganism and polytheism (I refer you to the Aztecs, the Incas, and South Sea Islanders to name only a few, and I'm not even talking about mass murdering pagans like Attila and Hitler, himself a worshipper of the Teutonic gods) 3. The ridiculous rituals carried out by the Pagans, described in the book as having this deep meaning and power, come off like stilted, neurotic, sex-obsessed Klan meetings only with people chanting and watching some old geezer have sex with a younger woman to 'unite' the feminine with the masculine and thus complete the human psyche. How can people who are so driven to dress up in party hats and chant and have sex supposed to be superior to anyone let alone Christians and Jews? They're just using their religion to party!
As to the style of the book, how many times did anyone else count phrases like, "he reeled with this information," "The statement was mind-numbing" (I must have counted the use of 'mind-numbing' at least six times, 'reeling' another five). This is the worst kind of writing. Instead of letting us make our own conclusions about what is being said, Mr. Brown needs to tell us in case we miss the point. Horribly amateurish and very dull. This is a truly mediocre book. It has garnered far more interest than it deserves. What I worry about is that many people think that they are learning 'real history' here. It's a polemic, a doctrinaire screed dressed up like a thriller. But one thing it is not is history, unless you want to count all the myths and falsehoods concocted by haters of monotheism since Abraham left Ur and traveled to Canaan 2000 years before the birth of Christ. It is certainly a history of *that* if nothing else. On this basis alone - that we get to hear all the anti-Monotheist trash-talk that has been floating around for the past 4000 years - then this is a history. Otherwise, it's pure codswallop.
2207989
There are some aspects of this book that are okay. Nothing particularly good, mind you, but okay. But there are enough other aspects that are so bad they overshadow the okay parts. If you're served a meal, and three courses are reasonably palatable, but the other two are dog excrement souffl&eacute; and ptomaine stew, it cannot be said that the meal was enjoyable.

I wasn't expecting a Heinlein novel, because obviously, Heinlen's dead, and he wasn't involved in writing this book. But I have read several of Spider Robinson's stories, and liked them well enough that I thought it would be worth giving this one a try. I was wrong. It wasn't worth it; it was merely disappointing and aggravating.

Disappointing because Robinson doesn't even live up to his own ability. This is the worst Spider Robinson story I've read. He has always had a tendency to wander around aimlessly in his own story, filling pages with blather from his pseudo-hippie, New Age, mystical, "drugs-expand-your-mind-dude" shtick, and he also invariably grunts and puffs and strains to work in as many over-labored and witless puns as he can. If you read Robinson, you learn to just overlook this kind of folderol. But this book has to set a drivel record even for Robinson.

The aggravation comes partly from his decision to power interstellar "universe" ships with psychic meditation mumbo-jumbo, which pretty much speaks for itself.

But really, the worst flaw in this very flawed book is Robinson's butchery of the Heinlein future-historical timeline. Had the Heinlein name not been attached to this project, and had Robinson not made clear that this story is supposed to be set squarely in the "Future History" which Heinlein developed, some of the plot abominations would not have been quite so abominable. It would still be a very poor Robinson novel, because it just isn't well written. But it wouldn't be such an insult to the reader. Setting us up the way he does, with many references that clearly place the story in the post-prophet Covenant days of the Future History series, and then shattering the continuity of that series the way he does, is not only aggravating, it's dishonest writing. A writer should keep his word to the reader. Robinson does not. He rides the coattails of Heinlein's popularity, and fails to deliver a sensible story. This is a dishonest book, not because the publisher uses Heinlein's name on the cover to sell it, but because in the final chapters Robinson scuttles the story he started to deliver, destroys all continuity with the Heinlein Future History universe, and thereby breaks his promise to the reader. Not only does he destroy the universe as a plot twist, he fails to deliver any kind of resolution or ending even to his own twisted, crippled plot. This kind of cheap hack work surprised me, because with all the weaknesses I'd seen in Robinson's earlier writing, I'd never thought of him as a hack. After reading this book, I am forced to revise my opinion.
3513084
This book was laborious to slog though. Though it has many many flaws, I will only list a few of the most prominent.  Mercer, Miranda, and Jax sound virtually interchangeable. The is no clear separate voice for any of the primary characters, and the ideas presented behind each of them are relentlessly hammered into the reader at every possible moment. It's insulting, as a reader, to be treated like we are not intelligent enough to understand, with a few subtle and well chosen words, that Mercer is an angry jerk. Or that Miranda is timid, though her dialogue throughout contradicts this. Or that Jax is troubled. Instead, these points are beaten into us over and over. There is nothing subtle in this book. There's also the problem of the best word, and while every word serves to drive home the plot without any style or finesse, there are so many places where a better word could have made a huge difference. It's also in present twnse, which when done well, works. Sadly, it's mangled here and sort of lurches around like a dying goat. Each chapter is uselessly headed by a song title and artist, ostensibly to help create a mood. This is a poor writers crutch, because a skilled writer would be able to use words and convey the images intended,  rather than relying on some lame musical choice. And lets not even get onto the subject of the blatant sexual degradation of women throughout this book, which honestly jyst reads like someones excuse to put all their sick fantasies onto paper. And while the twist is surprising,  it's also ridiculous,  and the best part of this novel was just getting to the end. Do yourself a favor and skip this, because you aren't missing anything.
221716
This guy should stick with YA literature.  The writing was sophomoric, and while imitation is the highest form of flattery, when you're up against something like The Iron Druid Chronicles, you better bring your A-game, and this book was the D-team.  The author wanted to be gritty; poor language, slang and violence does not equal gritty. Just a total disappointment.  I wanted to love it, and I am left utterly dissatisfied.
2427553
As a girl in her twenties, looking at the prospect of graduating college soon and hoping with all of my heart to move to and "make it" in the big city of New York, NY this book immediately grabbed my attention. The first few chapters were entertaining enough for me to stick with it but it soon went downhill from there.
After finishing the book (and what a grueling read it's been) I can safely say that there isn't a single character of redeeming value in its entirety. Tabitha, our protagonist's best friend, is narcissistic, superficial, and kind of stupid to say the least. The older sister, Monica, borders on psychotic in a way that is neither entertaining nor efficient in gleaning sympathy from the reader toward the unfortunate protagonist who has to deal with her. Roseanne, the protagonist's roommate is also shallow, also stupid, very dull, and her g-rated substitute curse words become extremely aggravating after awhile. The men this woman dates are horrendous stereotypes of every classical male cliche imaginable. Heck, the main character, our heroin, our lovely protagonist herself is nothing more than shallow, whiny, overly critical of everything and everyone involved in her life (to the point of being extremely, mind-numbingly annoying), I should also mention ANNOYING, relatively stupid herself, spoiled, naive (once again in an annoying way that would make you want to hit her in real life because she honestly expected some bigwhig at work to literally hand her a promotion on a silver platter or something) and she takes everything and everyone in her life for granted. How can you like a book if you hate the protagonist? It seemed to me that not a single character in this book had any charisma, appeal, or entitlement at all to be walking through it's pages!
Speaking of which, there were almost three hundred of these said pages and throughout the duration of them not a single thing of value actually happened, except maybe for the far-fetched ending, which could never happen in the real world anyway, so there you go. Basically what I share with you of this book's content is that these distinct characters (whom I described above) go out at night and drink. It doesn't matter what night of the week it is. Sometimes it's the afternoon on a weekend. But they drink. The next day they wake up hungover and go to work, after which they will begin to drink again in the evening. Evening after evening is spent in the apparently very tedious activity of debauchery. Sometimes mindless dialogue or casual sex is thrown in for effect, but always this drinking. I had a headache by the end of the book, most likely brought on by the mere idea of all of this endless drinking! I had to take painkillers! I felt hungover myself! All I wanted was for the drinking to stop and something interesting to happen. Any book devoting so much of its volume to mindless subplots involving alcohol perhaps ought not to have been written in the first place. Which brings me to mention to those people who say how this book so accurately parallels their own post-college, mid-twenties lifestyles... I'd check myself into AA if I were you. Really.
Lastly, in addition to the unappealing characters and the pointless (sometimes literally nauseating) storyline... I feel that any author who uses the word "Whatever" so many times in a single book, heck, in a single chapter even, deserves to be hit on the head with a thesaurus. Honest to God, every two paragraphs someone was Whatever-ing someone else, sometimes for no apparent reason. I started to count them all but I lost track after Whatever #36 or something.
The author has obvious talent, I will say this. There were some funny parts and the prose, for the most part, was witty and had a very high, elegant style. Maybe she just needs to stop copying Sex in the City....
3369733
Reading the novelization of such a great albums was oh so painful. I read the entire book only out of loyalty to Rush and some hope that there might be something redeeming in the next page; there isn't; don't bother wasting your time like I did.

I got the book as a Christmas gift, and started reading it like an eager child old who just got his first bicycle. (I had read some harsh reviews of Anderson's other novels but I was open minded about CA.) Right off the bat, the stilted writing was evident. Then it became clear that there wasn't going to be any character development or in-depth world-building. Instead you got 8th-grade writing, and random Rush lyrics  sprinkled into sentences throughout the novel (this got to be annoying and irritating very quickly).

The novel adds little to the lyrics. The novel fails to explain who the characters are or what they're motivations might be. Plus, the dystopian, dark and oppressive world that's implied in the lyrics is turned into something less menacing, kind of utopian really. The Anarchist and Watchmaker make appearances but their character's personality isn't consistent with the lyrics. For example, in the novel the Anarchist is just some free-spirited and spoiled brat (that somehow always eludes the supposedly smart and superior security forces), rather than the dark and troubled character in the lyrics. The story (what little there there is) isn't credible. The chapters pretty much follow the lyrics so there isn't anything new here.

I was expecting the novel to go into greater detail about who the Watchmaker was, or what happens to the Anarchist, or the greater social construct of this alternative universe. You never find out what happens to the conflict between the Anarchist and Watchmaker (or to either one). Instead, you get one-dimensional characters, simplistic and minimal story, and writing so bad I last came across in junior high school.

I will admit that the second half (when Owen somehow escapes to Poseidon) of the novel improves a little bit; but only slightly.

What's really disappointing is that Neal Peart supposedly provided feedback during the writing of the novel. You would think that he would've called the whole thing off after seeing that this was going to be a train wreck. Maybe his friendship was more important than the outcome?

To sum, the writing and plot of "Clockwork Angels: The Novel" are so bad that, Kevin J. Anderson makes Dan Brown seem like the second coming of William Shakespeare. Do yourself a favor and "turn your back and walk away." (See, I too can ripoff Rush lyrics--except I don't base a whole novel on the concept!)
2159471
I received this book as a gift for my Kindle.  Thank goodness I didn't pay for it.  The book starts out with an interesting premise but very soon fails to live up to expectations.  The dialogue between characters feels forced and is not believable.  Situations encountered by the characters are unrealistic and not well fleshed out.

The writing in this book is simplistic and juvenile.  One aspect that I found particularly difficult to stomach was the author's persistent attempt at humour by consistently referring to one Maya ruin, using pronunciation a first grader might find funny,... the first time.  It's an insult to the Maya who lived at, the modern Belizeans who named it and the reader who is forced to read it innumerable times when you have your characters repeatedly refer to the amazing site of Xunantunich as Tuna Sandwich.  Mr. Lawson, please refer to Xunantunich as Xunantunich.  Real people, when they are given the opportunity, can learn to pronounce it correctly.  Next time try telling them to say: Shoe - NAN - to - nitch, with the emphasis on the "nan".  It's really not that difficult.

Again, the concept of the book was promising.  The execution was simplistic and childish.  Five stars? Really?  The author must have bought the reviews.  Potential readers; if the book is ever released as a free book, you might get your money's worth, otherwise, avoid this book.  There are far better options available.
3513429
The concepts, characters, and content of this book have aged poorly. The author comes across as a rambling, prejudiced narcissist arguing for the relevance of astrology. The main characters are extremely one-dimensional, superficially developed, and a crystal reflection of the era's prevailing, bigoted attitudes toward class, minorities, and women. It was a torturous effort to make it through 400+ pages of this poorly edited, dense, loosely-connected, pseudo-scientific babble. I wish I could get the time back.
2412809
I really enjoyed Eargon, book one of Inheritance. It had lots of original concepts, and author Christopher Paolini expanded on those rather than ideas he borrowed. In Eldest, he has painfully gone on ideas that aren't his own; he basically took elements from LOTR, Star Wars, etc,. and gave then his own names. Even the dialogue is copied; in the chapter titled "Elva," Nasuada asks Angela to keep an eye on the girl, and she replies, "Two eyes, if I can spare them."  The plaigarism reeks like dead animal flesh. Not only are the ideas unoriginal and the different languages looking like Paolini just randomly tapped the keyboard and said "OK", but the characters have no backbone; for insatnce, the love scenes between Roran and Katrina are so awkward to read that I laughed out loud reading them, because there was no life or believability to them. I haven't even finished the book, proof that it is that hard to read. All in all, it's a vast disappointment to a trilogy I thought showed promise.
3509595
As a voracious reader and passionate fantasy fan, I was eagerly looking forward to reading "The Stolen Child."  Alas, the novel does not succeed on any level.

 The concept of changelings or babies stolen by faeries is hardly new.  Donohue alternates chapters from the point of view of the "stolen child,"  Henry Day, who becomes a hobgoblin and lives in the forest, and that of the changeling who takes his place and assumes Henry's physical presence and destiny in the real world.  Could have been intriguing.  But believe me, it's not.

The book is boring.  The plot plods along as the faeries spend centuries in the woods waiting for their chance to become human again.  Their lives are dirty, dangerous, and tedious.  There is no fantasy history or philosophy.....why did changelings come into being?  Is wisdom actually gained from the experience and thus beneficial to mankind?  When faeries violently take over a human life, can they ever become truly human since kindness and empathy are obliterated by this initial act?  Are there other fantasy creatures in the world and what are their relationships with them?  The book neither tackles nor answers any of these questions.

Characters are not developed and not differentiated effectively.  Why does Aniday (Henry Day's new name as a hobgoblin) fall in love with Speck and not one of the other female hobgoblins?  Why does the hierarchy within the faery pack seem so immutable, and then change overnight when things go awry?  It's all like "Lord of the Flies" among the nasty wee folk...but so much more dull.

"The Stolen Child" lacks the richness of prose, imagery and even vocabulary of the best fantasy: "The Golden Compass," for example.  Those seeking the majesty of Galadriel or even a good game of quidditch will be sorely disappointed.

The galactic battles between good and evil that underlie the most compelling fantasy are absent here.  There is only the hint that somehow -- presumably through literature, art and music since the characters spend so much time trying to escape through these -- we and the changelings can be redeemed.

As other reviewers have mentioned, the book is not even consistent within itself -- a major faux pas in fantasy and science fiction and for God's sake, even within a murder mystery.  Speaking of which, do yourself a favor and read Jeffery Deaver's gripping "Cold Moon," which I just finished, rather than this "identity crisis among the faeries" that would make Tinkerbell yawn.