Tag: Composite Creatures

Composite Creatures by Caroline Hardaker: This’ll Live Rent-Free in Your Mind for A While

Composite CreaturesComposite Creatures

by Caroline Hardaker

DETAILS:
Publisher: Angry Robot
Publication Date: April 13, 2021
Format: Paperback
Length: 267
Read Date: August 3-6, 2022
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“The Back of the Book”

I’m pretty sure I’d end up ruining something if I tried to summarize this myself, so let’s use the description from the Publisher’s site:

In a society where self-preservation is as much an art as a science, Norah and Arthur are learning how to co-exist in domestic bliss. Though they hardly know each other, everything seems to be going perfectly – from the home they’re building together to the ring on Norah’s finger.

But survival in this world is a tricky thing, the air is thicker every day and illness creeps fast through the body. The earth is becoming increasingly hostile to live in.Fortunately, Easton Grove have the answer, a perfect little bundle of fur that Norah and Arthur can take home. All they have to do to live long, happy lives is keep it, or her, safe and close.

The World Building

This is a terrifying look at an entirely possible not-that-future world for us. I’m not going to get into the details, but this is an England (and we can assume the rest of the world is a lot like it) devastated by pollution, climate change, and humans messing around with genetics and other experimental medicine.

The effects of all that are seen in nature—flora and fauna—and in the health of just about everyone in the novel.

Some things never change, however, those with money—or a way to get it—have a better shot at whatever slim advantages there are to be had.

And Hardaker absolutely sells this world—the choices she made in constructing, depicting, and revealing the details of this world were perfect. I cannot say enough for the setting and the way she showed it.

So, what did I think about Composite Creatures?

Sadly, the world that Hardaker portrayed was the only part of this book that resonated with me.

I was pretty sure of two things within the first 50 pages (less than that, but I wasn’t keeping score):

  1. This was a fantastically written book, it’s wonderfully conceived, prescient, and haunting.
  2. This was not a book for me.

This wasn’t a case of me disliking it—it was too good for that. But I just didn’t care, I wasn’t invested—I never got more than mildly curious. If I’d been forced to return this to the library before I finished, I don’t know that I’d have bothered to check it out again. I did keep waiting for that moment—the one that changed everything and made the whole thing worthwhile—and it didn’t come.

I’m giving this 3 stars—the writing/worldview/etc. deserves at least 4, but my experience was a big ol’ “meh” and probably would’ve gotten a 2 if a lesser writer had been responsible for it. So we’ll average the two.

Now, I think I’m the exception—Hardaker’s a great writer and this combination of too-likely dystopia and environmental collapse is the kind of thing that I can see a lot of people really getting into. I’d recommend you do. When Paul recommended Composite Creatures to me, he said something like he couldn’t stop thinking about it—I don’t blame him, it’s going to be a long time before I stop thinking about it. Incidentally, you should read Paul’s post about the novel for a different and very positive take.


3 Stars

20 Books of Summer

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The Friday 56 for 8/5/22: Composite Creatures by Caroline Hardaker

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it.

from Page 56 of:
Composite Creatures

Composite Creatures by Caroline Hardaker

The house already felt different.

We’d taken down our meagre Christmas decorations the day before (we’d only hung them up so the house looked festive for the party), and though the place felt lifeless now and drained of colour, that wasn’t why it was odd. The passageway seemed lighter and the doors further away, as if I was psychically stretching out into every room on alert for sharp things or towers likely to fall. I was a thousand eyes cast across the floor and tingled with electricity, ready to release a bolt.

I dropped the folders at the bottom of the stairs and flung my soaking boots on the shoe pile. Art and I gave each other a look and then began to walk the mile up the stairs, Art balancing the box carefully in his arms. My hand kept slipping on the bannister, and either because of nerves or the cold, I couldn’t feel my feet.

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