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320 pages, Hardcover
First published May 17, 2016
This is the thing about fairy tales: You have to live through them, before you get to happily ever after. That ever after has to be earned, and not everyone makes it that far.
Late summer’s lazy wind blew through the rose garden I had passed before, bending blossom-heavy heads like dancer’s arms.
Practically raised by wolves, we had joked. The monster and the metaphor, and the way they match up that makes the double-edged sword of wit. And then you realize what your words have done, and you weep because you’re both bleeding.
No one’s heart begins as a stone. Hearts are things that beat like birds in a cage, fluttering about, flying away from us at the least provocation.
Never mind the other fellows — they didn’t fit into jealousy’s calculus that told me there was one place, and two sisters, and that all of this would come down to the two of us. One would speak diamonds, the other, toads. Never mind that both were uncomfortable and a curse — one was still better.The mystery surrounding certain oddities at Melete builds slowly and steadily. It was great fun when I finally realized what familiar folktale Kat Howard is referencing. Howard gives the old tale some surprising twists, but they mesh extremely well with the universal themes that she explores in this tale: cruelty and pain initially appear in the story of past parental abuse, but resurface later in events spurred by betrayal and greed. Love, both romantic and sisterly, plays a role. And there is the overarching question of the pursuit of a cherished goal, and what one might sacrifice for it.
Nothing lasts forever, and midnight is a purposeful stop. A pause to remind you that there is always a clock ticking. There will never be enough time, and for every Beauty who saves her Beast, there will be a voiceless mermaid who dissolves into sea foam.Roses and Rot has lovely language and imagery that will appeal to readers who like evocative writing. I had a few issues with the slow pacing in parts of the story, and the abruptness of one key betrayal that I thought lacked sufficient foundation and plausibility in the way it occurred, but overall I enjoyed Roses and Rot thoroughly.
But there is another thing about midnight. It is when illusions break. When you can see the truth beneath them, if you are looking. There is always a crack in the illusion, a gap in the perfection, even if it is only visible with the ticking of a clock.
“Eğer bir kaltak olacaksan, bari iyi bir kaltak ol!”
“Evet. Evet iyiydi.” (69-70)
“Well, if you’re whoring yourself out, at least the sex is good.”
“Yes, yes it is.”
“Her zaman bir şeyler söyleyecek insanlar olacak. Sen de Gavin de oldukça göz önünde insanlarsınız.” (70)
“There are always going to be people who think things. Obviously, you and Gavin are both hideous, unpleasant people with no redeeming personal qualities, so why would anyone want to have sex with either of you, unless they were getting something in trade?”
“Sahnenin sonlarına doğru, kalabalığın içinde tuhaf kostümler giymiş insanlar gördüm sandım.”
“Onları sen de gördün mü?”
“Çok korktum. Belki müziğin etkisiyle farklı bir etki altında kaldım diye düşündüm. Ama belki de gerçekten sadece kostüm giymişlerdi. Bilemiyorum...” (84)
“Like, toward the end of the set, I kept thinking maybe there were people there in costumes or something?”
“So you saw them too?”
“I freaked out. Thought maybe I’d inhaled some smoke that I shouldn’t have. But costumes makes sense.”
“They do, don’t they. Or the secondhand smoke. I had a beast of a headache.”
“Most likely explanation.”
“Ayrıca en sevdiğim tişörtümün üstüne mürekkep döktüm ve elimi de kestim.” (85)
“Plus I spilled a bottle of ink all over my favourite shirt and I cut myself shaving.”
“Kesinlikle. O yüzden yukarıda oturup surat asmak yerine, buraya gelip çikolatalı mus yapayım dedim. Normalde o kadar zor değildir. Ama bugün hiçbir şeyi sertleştiremiyorum.”
Ariel kıs kıs güldü.
“Ne dediğinin farkında mısın?” diye sordu. (86)
“Exactly. So rather than sitting upstairs and sulking, I thought I’d come down here and make chocolate mousse.”
“Seriously? You can just”--she waved her hands in the air like a wizard--“make that?”
I shrugged. “It’s usually not hard. Except today, when I can’t make anything get stiff.”
“You heard what you just said, right?”