I am a girl who is easily agitated. Anyone who has had the pleasure of being a passenger in my car during rush-hour traffic can attest to this. (I may or may not introduce people to my middle finger on a regular basis.) But there is nothing (and I do indeed mean NOTHING) that irritates me more than stupidity. Life is too short to be a raging moron. Better yet, there are way too many ways out there to educate yourself, if you are an idiot, it’s because you refuse to use your brain. A stagnant brain leads to ridiculous choices. Or in the case of “The Brokenhearted’s” heroin Anthem Fleet…352 pages of spontaneous snot slides (that’s crying for those of you that don’t understand my pathetic attempt at slang) and a chest full of hummingbird. (Yeah…I’ll explain that one in a minute. It’s gonna take more than one immaculately constructed sentence.) But in the interest in saving everyone a little time…how about we get to the synopsis first.
Remember a few minutes ago when I said I was easily agitated? Yeah, that might have been a bit of an understatement. Truth be told, I have been sitting here for quite some time trying to find an articulate way to say “I love and completely despise this book.” (Which, in retrospect… I guess I just did.)
When it comes right down to it, this book should have been a home run. The concept was a spectacular one (which is the reason I picked it up to begin with.) The problem was, well…everything else. Even though I found it hard to put down (and flew through the entire book in just a few hours) I couldn’t help but cringe and sigh in deep exasperation the entire time.
First, Anthem is a confident girls nightmare. One top of falling helplessly in love after one week (and subsequently losing her v-card in his lavish (I mean abandoned) warehouse apartment) she spends the majority of the novel crying. Yes, ok…you supposedly lost the love of your life (I’ll spare you my rant on insta-love *insert gagging noise*) it’s sad, I’ll give that to you. (I’m sure I would have shed a few wet ones myself.) But lapsing into a deep depression, and then morphing into his avenging angel? Uh uh…I’m not buying it. Do you not remember what happened to Romeo and Juliet after THEIR one week affair? *sigh* Why not take all that fake rage (and fake heart…) and do something useful with it. Here’s an idea…find the confidence to stand on your own. (Wow, my mommy is showing.) Love is ok. Losing touch with reality is not.
Speaking of reality…where can I get a hummingbird heart? No…really…I can totally get behind the ability to leap off of 40 story buildings and walk away without so much as a scratch. (At the moment, I’m still trying to master flat, solid ground.) But a hummingbird? Really? It’s like threatening a lion with a q-tip. (Stand back, or I’ll poke out your eye with this slightly fluffy beauty accouterment!) I know, I know…I’m being mean. I LOVE superheros. My house looks like a shrine to Marvel. So why am I harping on Anthem’s newly acquired super-speed? Maybe because she wastes it. Is it not her OBLIGATION to use her new skills for good? Instead she uses them selfishly in a world that could benefit from her help. (Maybe someone should give her Batman’s phone number.)
And don’t even get me started on the world building. It was like peering through a peep-hole. Forward facing and very limited.
So…why (with all of these negatives) did I have such a hard time starting this review? Because for some unfathomable reason I liked this book. (I know, it makes no logical sense.) In short it was a total train-wreck, BUT at the same time….most superhero based stories are. I’m serious! Go back, find a story, ANY story in which the lead character morphs into something more than themselves and tell me how it starts. 90% of the time it’s going to be a thinly plausible revenge scenario…much like Anthem’s. The only difference, the authors are better at disguising it.
Will I pick up book number 2 in this series? Eh…maybe. For now, I have better things to read.
My suggestion? Leave it on the shelf until your TBR reaches zero. Then give it a chance.
Happy Reading my fellow Kindle-ites and remember: predictability is the root of all evil.