Quit at 46%. I struggled to get involved in the story and failed to develop any interest in the characters at almost 1/2 way through the book. The dialog between the characters was odd and felt disjointed. Really it felt so weird to this reader. I was left at this stage in the book still not sure what the book was about. When it started with some secret spy group story that just didn't fit at all for me, I lost all interest. I should have quit sooner but I loved this author's other series, but this is not in that style at all.

This is the month for DNF for me I guess. I'm cleaning out that TBR monster I have

Catwoman goes underground is obvious from the title.This was a bit creepy with a backwoods/Deliverance/True Blood vibe thrown in. Tribal squabbles and weirder and weirder societies. There is a whole culture of people who live in the flooded underground of Gotham, and their way of life is hard and corrupt and in some ways, just plain weird. I think there are probably some characters that are part of the Gothamverse, but I'm not familiar with them. I always like the look at historical Gotham and there is a bit of that here. Joker's Daughter shows up in this, but she's slightly different from her character in the recent Suicide Squad book where I first encountered her. Her character is really twisted. I did like the cat that wouldn't die, because well, I love cats. :)

I like these Catwoman books, but they feel a bit chaotic. It's kind of hard to keep up with the story at times. I do like that Catwoman is envisioned as a bit of a Robin Hood type thief/slash woman of the people instead of a self-absorbed, out for herself thief. Catwoman is a fun character to follow and I love seeing how each book designs her look.

I have been thinking about this review for a few days now. How do I convey everything I want to without giving too much away? This is the question I've been struggling with, and then Lucifer Morningstar showed up at my loft this morning to show me the way...

He said, "You must jump feet first into this story. Take the plunge. DO NOT read the back blurb. I'm beckoning you do it this way, so the surprises are, well surprising."

I said, "Fair enough. It's what I did, and why I enjoyed the wild ride so much."

Now, here are my personal thoughts on the story itself. I took precautions not to give too much away, so if you decide to read it, it will be as fun for you, as it was for me. 

This book was clever, for the simple fact that it was crafted with precision and intelligence, even though it certainly does have quite a few "wacky bits," which I personally found delightfully engaging. I enjoyed that Bushnell takes overdone character tropes found in modern literature and literally twists the hell out of them; making them much more fun to read, as well as, poking fun at the whole demographic that these books are aimed at. I thoroughly enjoyed this layered commentary. I marked this as a favorite for two simple reasons: one, that it made me laugh, and two, that it made me enjoy the act of reading again, as this was the book that broke me out of a reading slump. So, I thank you Jeremy Bushnell for this special gift with flames, brimstone, and of course a Neko cat offering. I can't wait to read your next book. This was a promising debut for sure.

This one really bogged down for a while. I liked the premise, and the beginning and end were good, but the middle third really wandered off in a tedious direction. I thought there was way too much of the main character's inner monologue and not enough action moving the story along.

The other problem for me was that the main character got on my nerves. He was all full of first world problems and whiny-ness, not to mention being REALLY dumb, and I felt like I just wanted to slap him several times. To me, he read like an annoying hipster that dreams of grandeur, but is unwilling to grow up, act like an adult and do the serious work that needs to be done to achieve anything. Lucifer Morningstar, on the other hand was great. He was funny, smart and engaging, and definitely my favorite character (though Billy's dad was a good one too).

Overall this was a 2.5/3 star book. I'm glad I got it from the library, since it wasn't really what I was expecting based on the cover summary, and ended up being just kind of "Meh" for a lot of the book.

Isn't it weird how sometimes the right book comes along at the right moment? This is not going to be an epically loved book for me or anything, but it's the kind of book I've kept thinking I'd eventually set aside and stop reading. But then I've read just a bit more. And so on. It's been interesting enough to take me out of myself when I've really needed stress relief - and been the most fun in those moments where I've found myself rereading the same paragraph over and over because in my mind I'm having an imaginary trip to Italy. I've also discovered that travel books are a wonderful way for me to waste even more time online, because there are photos of almost everything if you dig around enough. Which is especially helpful since this guidebook dates from 1964 and the photos are all in black and white. I actually have another weird history/link post to make (Italy + Alice in Wonderland + alchemy + medicine + candy + British candy folklore), but this post had to come first.

After my post on Stuffed Crocodiles Hanging From The Ceiling - which a quote from pg 338 got me launched off on - I thought that'd be it for the crocodile-related entries. (In this book anyway.) But noooooooo! I did not suspect that 212 pages later there would be a Sudden Surprise Appearance of The Ceiling Croc! Remember, back on pg 338 it was just a mention of a crocodile in a sculpture, not an actual ceiling croc, that had gotten me all wound up over the beasts. (Technically the creatures here are both "alligators," but ceiling croc just sounds better.)

And so here's the quote. Imagine me reading this with my mouth open, making a ridiculous expression, saying to myself "wait, I just burbled on and on about these things, and now they pop up in an obscure town?!!" Specifically The Hermitage and Monastery at Camaldoli, in Tuscany. (More here and here.) Pg 550-552:

"I entered the monastery and found myself in an ancient pharmacy where nothing had apparently been altered since the Middle Ages. A dusty alligator hung from the rafters and beneath it a bustling young lay brother in horn-rimmed glasses stood behind a rampart of objects on a well-stocked counter. Near the door, where in other chemists' shops there is usually a weighing machine, I noticed an upright coffin in which a skeleton was propped. I went to examine it and read an inscription: 'In this glass you see yourself, foolish mortal. Any other glass is not telling you the truth.' On a shelf near by I saw a good selection of pickled vipers and I noticed some badger skins, which I seemed vaguely to remember are infallible in cases of sorcery.

 

There must be a mediaeval hypochondriac hidden away in me, for this was the place I had always hoped to find: the apothecary's shop in which one could ask for half an ounce of crabs eyes, or a packet of powdered coral, or perhaps even a jar of hart's horn jelly, the wonder drugs of yesterday. And it did indeed look at first sight as though, isolated upon this Apennine, men were still searching for the Elixir of Life. Who could say what countless little drawers held in the beautiful, age-blackened walnut panelling; what, in spite of his horn rims and his modern air, might not the lay brother have under the counter? Fascinated, I stepped into another, smaller room full of mortars and pestles and retorts (and another alligator), a room which gave the impression that an alchemist had just slipped out to look up something in Galen. A stuffed armadillo gave a homely touch to one corner and upon the wall, framed perhaps for ready reference, I read a formula which contained the words grasso umano - human fat.

 

[The store also sells modern things like razor blades, cologne, and face cream.]

 

...I asked where his customers came from. He said they were living at the hospice up the road and were on holiday. Every year people came to spend a week or two in the pine-scented air of the mountains, to walk, to ride, and to fish; and the pharmacy was the village shop."

Apparently the author of this book can't always be relied upon for facts - so I've been unsure how seriously to take some of his descriptions. It's hard to know how much artistic license he's taking. It's especially hard to tell because the book is 50 years old, and there aren't any citations.

But then I found this on wikipedia under Camaldoli:

"In the monastery of Camaldoli there is a welcoming room, a great hall, and an old style pharmacy. The pharmacy was originally a laboratory where monks studied and worked with medicinal herbs. These medicines would be used in the old hospital which can still be visited today. The precious walnut decor dates back to 1543."

Couldn't find any photos. But the ceiling crocs alligators might still be there...

[Here I'll note that I could now go off on another tangent about stuffed armadillos. I even own a framed photo of a taxidermied armadillo holding a beer bottle. Because, Texas. But I'm restraining myself!]

MOMENTS LATER: I may have said "squeee!" aloud when I found this:

Camaldoli’s Antica Farmacia: charity without words

I don't see the ceiling crocs in any of those photos - but the skeleton in the coffin is there!!!!

HOURS LATER: I think I've found two Flickr photos with ceiling crocs/gators - only it looks as though these are wall walking:

Farmacia - photo by Come L'abete (on the wall to the right, possible armadillo on back wall)

Simon Luca - photo by Come L'abete (you can't really miss this one)