But Triana understands the power of the music perhaps even more than does Stefan - and she sets out to resist Stefan and to fight not only for her sanity but for her life. The struggle draws them both into a terrifying supernatural realm where they find themselves surrounded by memories, horrors, and overwhelming truths.
Violin flows abundant with the history, the drama, the invention, and the romantic intensity that have become synonymous with Anne Rice at her incomparable best.
©1997 by Anne O'Brien Rice; (P)1997 by Random House, Inc.
I like Anne Rice's work, but this was long, drawn out and downright painful to have to sit through. The only reason that I finished this was that I kept telling myself that this is an Anne Rice bokk, it has to get better.
Having struggled to read through the monotonous pace of the book, I downloaded the audio. Unfortunately, the pace I was hearing mentally translated all too well as I found myself fighting to stay awake through it. Not one of Anne's better books, but this is strictly my opinion. The Witching Hour and Cry to Heaven being my two favorites and I miss her as a fiction writer.
I love Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, so I thought that her other tales of the supernatural would be good, too. Not so. This book is quite morbid and at times the descriptions are downright gross. The plot was very slow and at times quite boring. Also, I had a hard time caring at all for the characters.
Whilst there is undoubtedly a difference between male and female writers, it can often be accommodated comfortably by a reader of either gender. In the case of Violin, if it does indeed contain any merit that I was unable to discern, then I can only assume this is a novel for female readers only. I advise male readers especially to avoid like the plague.
There is nothing commendable about this novel at all. Its introspective and gratuitously self-indulgent musings do nothing but annoy - it displays all the major weaknesses of 21st century literature and makes no effort to hide them. It expects us to bond with the (intentionally?) mentally unbalanced heroine narrator and her experience, but that is impossible because it is so utterly implausible.
Good novels require an economy with words and a steady pacing of plot - see Jane Austen - neither of which is evident in Violin. Minute by minute I wanted to scream at the audio book narrator, "Get on with it and stop navel-gazing." I pity her and I hope she got well paid for struggling through the recording of this tribute to a publishing company's folly and editor's lunacy.
This book should come with a full refund.
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