I read Ordinary Monsters over the holiday… or what has amounted to 3 weeks. The plan was always to use it as a transition between 2022 + 2023 as it is a true tome, at 658 pages. I didn’t read everyday, but when I did pick it up I used it as an escape and a distraction. Despite its gothic atmosphere, a kind of Charles Dickens meets X-Men, and dark scenes, grimy settings and (sometimes) horrific subject matter… it was quite cozy.

The children are such a shining light (literally 👀) in this story, and Charlie and Marlowe had my whole heart. I’d say the default tone of the book is one of the grotesque, but the children and their “talents” are often described with a kind of beauty and awe. I thought that was so effective. The relationships dynamics, in general, are full of layers shaped by the world the characters live in and the extraordinary circumstances surrounding them.

It feels long, in a good way, but also in a way that feels like a true journey. This is Book One in an eventual trilogy and the world is huge… it has no choice but to be slow. For that— I recommend going into it expecting a slowness and a story you need to give full attention to. For some readers this might be one to skip. I’m going to continue in the series but I imagine I’ll need a refresher when Book Two finally comes out… and quite frankly, that’s daunting.

I also want to say that for all of my interest in the unfolding mystery of it all, and the fascination I felt, or even the protective energy I felt towards Marlowe… it didn’t emotionally impact me. Not outwardly, anyway, which is strange for me. I didn’t even feel particularly moved. For that I couldn’t give it 5 stars, despite the achievement I truly believe it to be. So… 4 stars, but solid in every way and if you ARE the audience for this story, you’re going to love it. ( )

I wasn’t particularly prepared to tackle a 658 page read when this chonk of a tome came in from my holds list at the library, but within a mere few pages I was swept into Miro’s just-shy-of-reality Victorian-era world. His story takes much from the gaslamp-infused setting where his narrative plays out and strikes familiar chords in terms of language and sheer weight of storylines, and yet he shies clear of falling into the true density that makes other books of this volume a challenge (I’m looking at you, brilliant but overwrought Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell). Part of this is definitely due to a distinct choice to tread a careful line away from becoming truly Victorian in diction, but his cast of characters also seems to lighten the mood perceptively - even if the themes remain decidedly shadowy and the graphics are straight out of a Penny Dreadful. His story centres around a group of children with magical abilities (Talents), and the adults who either track them down or care for them at a special school in Scotland, putting the two groups at odds as challenges present themselves and the children (and some of the adults) must learn the realities of human nature. Obviously Miro has taken bits and pieces from a variety of classic magical realism stories, and any reader of the genre can easily spot the similarities (even amped up for the adult audience Miro is writing for), but he gives us a driven storyline and quality characters enough that it’s a pretty easy sell for those of us who still crave the same feeling of magical stories that we discovered as young readers. The story does waffle a bit in the middle (as most books of this length inevitably do), but by the time we get to the finale all of the various plotlines (and let me tell/warn you: there are many, and few are to be trifled with) have been wrapped up neatly, even if the ending is not exactly a happy one. The final lines of the book overtly promise further escapades for our group of Talents, and there’s apparently 2 more books forthcoming, so at this rate we’re going to be stuck in Miro’s alt-Victorian reality for quite some time. ( )

Action packed and gruesome: the way a good penny dreadful should be. Children with talents—some eerie, some monstrous—fight and flee the terrors seeking to use them to open, or seal, the gate between the living and the dead.

Great first half, as we meet Charlie the Healer, Komako the commander of dust, and uncanny Marlowe. But the action and slows as it settles at the institute in Cairndale. The scenes drag (but appropriately so) beyond the orsine in the city of the dead, but it all accelerates into a big, satisfying conclusion. ( )

This was a fun entry for a series.
I very much liked that it was not plain fantasy but that it had an equal amount of horror in it as well. (That one scene on the train: chef kiss!)

Some characters stayed a bit bland, even if they turned out to be essential for the plot, I hope that they will get the time they deserve in the next installment.
The world building by itself was very nice though, Miro managed it to bring life on three continents alive with ease. I also liked that he described Victorian London as a gritty smudgy place as it was and not all sunshine and flowers.

Oh, but please, please, no more lip wetting in book number 2, that was too much, they all must have very rough and bloody lips by now ... ( )

Major umbrella academy vibes ( )