This book was given to me by some dude who was trying to bang me.I wish I was kidding.And now that I've managed to finish reading this monstrosity, I have to wonder whether I should be insulted that he was trying like hell to get with me, because obviously his taste and judgment are questionable. For one thing, he told me this book is good. It isn't. And for another thing, after a conversation we had about the book I'm writing, he said that my book sounds like this book. It doesn't. At all. The only similarity between the two is that they're both futuristic dystopian sci-fi novels.But I digress.Where do I even begin in venting my spleen about this ungodly piece of crap? Should I start with the fact that I hated every single character because they were all outrageously annoying and had not one redeeming quality among the lot of them? Or should I start by pointing out that Burgess's writing is juvenile at best, and execrable at worst? And that's being polite. Or maybe I should start by mentioning that reading this book is like being locked in a small room with a dozen mental patients. No, really. Not only are all of these characters completely indecisive and irrational, but they're also entirely emotionally unstable, such that they change thoughts and opinions and moods not just multiple times on each page, but sometimes in the same sentence.Apparently, in the future, they'll be able to make dog-men and pig-men and whatever the hell else in big Vats-o'-Science, but psychiatric medicine will be completely unheard of.Look, I get it. Burgess is trying to make a medieval Icelandic saga cool and new and accessible to the next generation of readers. And that would be commendable, except...not like this. Dear god, Mel, not like this. Just because you're writing for teenagers doesn't mean you have to write like you are one. And when none of your characters have matured emotionally past the age of about fifteen, that doesn't make them easier to identify with, it just makes them annoying and unlikeable, and it makes the story hard to read. If I had read this book when I, myself, was fifteen or sixteen, I would have been insulted that this is the sort of garbage meant to appeal to me--a badly-written behemoth full of shitty, unrealistic dialogue, two-dimensional characters, overblown violence, and painfully awkward sex scenes--and I would have chucked the thing in the trash about a quarter of the way through.I guess I must have gained a bit more patience over the years--not much, mind, just a bit--because I did manage to make it all the way through Bloodtide, although I still think it's a horrendous pile of suck. And while I'm not insulted, as such, and can't even work up the energy to be properly miffed, I am disappointed. I'm disappointed that this is the kind of swill being offered to a new generation of readers. I'm disappointed that all anyone seems to be interested in anymore is pandering to their baser urges, their preoccupation with sex and violence, in order to turn a quick buck. Whatever happened to the young adult books like I used to read? Books that made you think, that made you feel, that changed you? Shouldn't that still be what we strive to offer our young people? Shouldn't we want them to read books that will help them grow into better people? Not this. This is like polishing a turd and calling it art, and then we wonder why this is how we feel about our successors most of the time.So here's my advice: don't read this book. If you're a teenager, don't read this book. If you're an adult, don't read this book. And if you're an adult, for the love of god, don't get this book for any of the teenagers in your life. Not even if you hate them. There are so many other books that are a better use of time and brain power, that will make you--no matter who you are--better for having read them, and I would be happy to recommend a few of them, if need be. Just please, please, don't read this fucking book. It will hurt your brain and give you the Dumb. No joke.
The future London has fallen far from its lofty civilization. Now ganglords rule, and the biggest of these are like kings over their own little kingdoms. But Val Volson and Connor both want it all, and so a treaty was proposed: Val's daughter Signy's hand in marriage to Connor to create peace between the bitter rivals. Signy opposes the marriage at first. When she's grown to love Connor, betrayal shatters the truce and subjugates all of London under Connor's iron fist. And so Signy finds a new goal: to bring down Connor and restore London to Volson rule. No matter what it takes.Underneath it all, the story could be a good one. It's a war to end the world, where despotism knows no bounds, and the most ruthless characters might be the ones opposing Connor. Certainly the plot twists like a snake; the Norse gods show up from time to time just to make life interesting, particularly Odin and Loki, and since murder is the order of the day no one's survival is guaranteed. Despite the obvious similarities to WWII, the comparison was not abused in the war itself or the end of the war. In fact, the battle scenes are more battle summaries, as the greatest action is that taking place within the characters themselves.The story could be good. A number of things stop it from actually being good. Point of view was my biggest peeve, as the story starts in a third-person that wanders to second person or inside anyone's head at all, then swaps between Signy and Siggy in first person (and it took me half the book to figure out which was the girl; they might be twins, but surely they could have different names?), along with random other characters that have first-person snippets. These are rammed full of dialect that can make it hard to understand, or at least slow down reading. The other problem is that these first-person cameos are random. Some of the people only get a chapter or two and then vanish, or are killed offstage. Personally I wish the author had stuck with third-person, because as annoying as it was to wander in and out of everyone's heads, it was more annoying to go the entire chapter thinking it was Signy talking only to find out it was her brother. The chapter headers did not help at all until I had it sorted which name belonged to which character.The other, and frankly, bigger, reason I dislike this book is the sheer amount of vice. Signy is thirteen when she gets married (Connor being over twice her age didn't help) and the beginning of the book has a fairly heavy focus on sex. When she's fifteen she commits incest with her twin brother in order to conceive his child. Nobody has a problem randomly committing murder or stealing; Signy is quite coldblooded at manipulating Connor into killing off many of the people under him. I understand this is a dark fantasy, but I can't find anything to like about anyone except Melanie, and she's hardly the point of the book.Also, I didn't like the idea that anything at all could be bred into someone using those womb-tanks. Dog features, yes, or a horse's strength, but genetically modifying someone not to have pity? Pity is a choice as much as a feeling. And while the idea that destiny is inescapable is hardly a new one, it's also neatly avoiding the fact that people have choices. Signy became worse than Connor because she chose to sink to his level. The gods' manipulation might have played a part, but at least near the end she had a choice to get out of it all and she chose to stay.Overall I was surprised the book managed to get published, and even more surprised it survived long enough to generate a sequel. Given the sheer amount of cruft in this book, I will not be reading the next. I rate this book Not Recommended.
What do You think about Bloodtide (2002)?
This is a very dark and frightening portrayal of what may well happen to British society if the government flees, gangs rule and technology goes too far.Yet it is woven smoothly into an age old norse tale of two feuding families, the agendas of the old gods, the pursuit of revenge and how the quest for peace is never free from pain and sorrow.The characters are all mainly over teenage years yet the struggles each goes through makes them more adult in mind then they appear on the skin.It is a very good thriller and adventure tale as the saga should be although in some places it does slow down a bit if only to allow the reader to emmerse themselves ever deeper into the grim reality of the world portrayed in the book but the ending is as dramatic as befits the great saga that is being retold. Melvin really has brought fresh blood and misery to this norse legend.
—Rebecca
This is a good read for anyone who enjoys distopian future stories. I had no idea what to expect from this book. I found it on a discount rack at a discount store in Canada. Very random. The cover wasn't too promising but I must say that I loved it! Burgess vision of the future is bleak and scary, but he has a unique sense of humor to write so lightly about all the horrors of a bombed-out London. I almost thought it was a satire for the first hundred pages of so, of course until everything went downhill. This story is a tragedy at its utmost. It was exciting, riveting and fun, but in the end I just felt depressed for all the war and suffering everyone went through. He makes you care for the characters so much and then delivers quite a shock at the end. If you can find this, I recommend it.
—Devin
Bloodtide is the first part of the Icelandic Volsunga Saga, replayed in dystopic London where ganglords rule the city and genetically engineered halfmen threaten them from the countryside. Twins Siggy and Signy Volson are separated when Signy weds a rival family ganglord, but treason, war, and intrigue may bring them back togetherif both twins can survive the harrows of war. An odd combination of dystopic London and Icelandic myth, Bloodtide has an attention-grabbing concept which is often well handled but never fully justified. Burgess's writing is vivid and violent, but constant headhopping cripples the otherwise strong narrative. On the whole, this book is pretty good but not quite good enough, and I don't recommend it.Straddling futuristic, dystopic London and ancient Icelandic myth, Bloodtide is something of an unusual combination. Burgess makes the story his own: he expands on characters and motivations, streamlines and tweaks parts of the plot, and sets the myth in an entirely new setting which, dystopic and full of halfmen, has a rich story of its own. But too often, the two very disparate aspects just don't mesh. Dystopic London has little explanation or backstoryand while an explicit backstory could be artificial, a lack of backstory makes the setting unrealistic. Burgess also has no explanation for the story's divine influences (visits from Odin, help from Loki) except to have the gods themselves enter the storyand their appearances feel out of place against the an otherwise gritty, detailed, scifi story. Dystopic London and Icelandic myths are unexpected, potentially wonderful partners, but Burgess never justifies bringing them together. Lingering questions of just why Odin walks the streets of London make the book feel a little unsubstantial.Plot, setting, influences aside: Bloodtide is pretty good, but not quite good enough. Never does it shy from grit and guts: death, murder, betrayal, anger, love are all brutal. And rather than a cheap thrill, the violence is brutally effective. Almost the entire cast is multi-dimensional and brings to the table a litany of twisted motivations, and the story's raw violence gives characters and their actions a hefty weight. Unfortunately, Burgess's interest in characters cripples the flow of the book. The chapters alternate between first and third person, every other chapter jumping into the head of a characteroften Signy or Siggy, but sometimes as strange a choice as a one-off headhop into the mind of a war general. The transition between first and third person becomes a bit less jarring as the book goes on, but it never stops feeling like a gimmickand it makes for some narrative repetition where the edges of the plot overlap what a group of characters did with how a specific character felt about it.I came to Bloodtide without many expectations, and what I found intrigued but failed to delight. Icelandic myth and ganglord-ruled London is an odd and attention-grabbing combination but it doesn't make sense or work outa pity, because on their own both dystopic London and retold Icelandic myth are promising premises for a novel. Burgess is a strong writer, but doesn't seem to trust that strength: his story would stand stronger without gimmicky POV changes. I enjoyed much of Bloodtide, both for the unique story that it tries to be and for the strong characters and violence that fill it, but my final impression was somewhat soured by the book's failed potential. It's not bad by a long ways, and interested readers may want to read it and judge it for themselves. But in my opinion this book didn't quite justify the time spent reading it, and I don't recommend it.
—Juushika
