in which our heroine battles dragons, rescues a princess and is back in time for tea. or, 3 reviews!

Nightlife by Rob Thurman

Caliban Leandros’ father is a monster. By monster I don’t mean a strangely alluring creature of the night, but a frightening, perfectly inhuman thing who would never even dream of taking the kids on a fishing trip. Caliban’s father is not remotely attractive, unless of course you like your men with razor-sharp claws, shining red eyes, huge fangs and an unholy thirst for death and mayhem. (In which case I do not judge, but will sit and worry about you from afar.) He paid Caliban’s mother, fake psychic and raving alcoholic Sofia, a large sum of money to impregnate her (because, let’s face it, if it’s really the inside that counts, he’s in great trouble) and for obvious reasons, mummy and daddy separated after that brief and terrible liaison. (Imagine what family life would be like with a murderous monster, she’d never get the bloodstains out of the carpet, and what would she tell the neighbours when he disembowelled the children’s softball team, it would be enough to drive anyone to drink even more.) So Cal and his half-brother Niko live with Sofia, patiently saving money and dreaming of one day getting away. But then daddy shows up to take over custody. When Cal returns to Niko two days later, he is snarling, savage and has aged two years. Obviously Cal’s been on the worst father-son road trip ever and, anxious to avoid a repeat, Cal and Niko run and keep running.

When we encounter the brothers, they are hiding in New York, city of millions. Cal cleans at a seedy bar, Niko teaches people in the ninja ways and works as a bodyguard, and life is looking up. And then the monsters find them. Should they run again? Or should they find out what the monsters are planning before it’s too late?

First, allow me to say this: I actually liked this book. I need to mention this now, because I have a history of being tragically misunderstood. And I know that this is so because I have had many conversations in which Person A has said to me, “Oh Juju, but you hated that book/film/thing with tentacles that made a noise when you squeezed its tummy!”, and I’ve been like, “No, you’ve got it all wrong, I liked that book/film, and I own one of those squeezy tentacle things!” And then Person B has shown up and said, “Is there any food?”

The problem is that I want to love everything. When I pick up a book or watch a film or try something new, I’m fully expecting to give away half the kingdom and all of my heart, and when I love or really like something, I want to share it with the world. I do the whole thing with the reverent tones and the singing of praises and the bulging eyes, and people react differently to this. Some find it off-putting. Others are vaguely entertained. Very many say, in tones of deep disgust, “You just got spittle on my arm.” But when I just like something, I need to find out why exactly I didn’t love it, and then I talk about flaws and weaknesses and Things that Could Have Been until I sound as if I have a dark and shrivelled soul and torture baby animals in the basement. Only this week, I’ve had to carefully explain my views on two very different topics (“I thought Special Topics in Calamity Physics was a fun read and I do not hate white wine, calumny all!”). For that reason, I thought I should begin by listing all the things I liked about Nightlife! And there were many.

The story is told in the first person, from the point of view of teenager and half-monster, Cal. Cal is tough, smart and frequently laugh-out-loud funny, and Nightlife as a book is fast-paced and exciting. I also happen to be of the firm opinion that secondary character Robin Goodfellow should win some sort of award. (Apparently, Homer could drink anyone under the table, and Sappho? Could party like it was AD 99. I am not surprised.) At the same time, the author deals with issues like identity and family, and the relationship between Cal and Niko is touching and believable.

Another plus is that the monsters are genuinely scary. Cal and Niko refer to them as Grendels, though actually they are elves or Fae, usually referred to as Auphe in the books. Universally feared, the Auphe revel in murder and destruction, live in a cold hell and speak a language that sounds like consonants being put through a meat grinder. You are not likely to find these merry fellows traipsing across a meadow, because they will be too busy chewing merrily on your entrails. Thurman has reinvented the traditional fantasy elf by giving Legolas fangs, anorexia, a bad hair day and some serious attitude problems.

That having been said, there were some things that made me like rather than love this book.

This is a debut novel, I think, and it shows partly in that the writing is a bit uneven. It’s a matter of taste, I know, but personally I’m always wary of things like “his eyes were frozen grey lakes of mistrust” or “I went out into a night as black as my soul”. Also, for reasons I will not enter into for the sake of the plot, the second half of the book is rather repetitive. There are only so many times you can do the whole “I should know about monsters – I AM ONE” and “I will tell you about the MASTER PLAN AHAHA!”

Characters such as adorable red-headed psychic Georgina and femme fatale (literally) Promise hardly get any screen time. More importantly, though, I felt that there wasn’t enough Niko. Stony-faced ninjas are all well and good, and I do like me a man with a vast vocabulary, but I wanted to get just a bit closer. At the moment, he feels a bit like one of those men in the movies, you know? The one with the billowing black coat who appears unexpectedly from the shadows, accompanied by a cool signature melody. All his women have gorgeous legs and smoke cigarettes, purring, “I could never get past his icy exterior. I cared for him, but I did not know him. Except… he loved healthy food. Carrots, you know? And seaweed.” Personally, I would have liked to see some of the story told from Niko’s point of view.

Finally, while I liked this book, I put it away feeling slightly disappointed. But this was not Nightlife’s fault! Nightlife and I had a good time. We shared a banana split and did each other’s hair! No, it was because my expectations, they were like the Himalayas. I mean, this is exactly the type of story I should adore. It focuses on a platonic relationship, it brings up themes like identity, friendship and loyalty, it has monsters, and of course a city… It’s also kind of exactly like Supernatural, only we will not mention my Supernatural crush or I’ll be ill-spoken of in the village. (Now that I think about it, Nightlife also happens to be eerily reminiscent of a story I wrote a while back, which was set in London and featured two troubled half-brothers, one zombie dad and Battersea By Night. See? Exactly my thing.) I thought I would love it in the singing-praises-reverent-spittle way, and I didn’t, and that confused me. Still, though, if you’re in the mood for a fun, exciting read, then look no further. Here there be monsters.