Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (original 2011; edition 2011)

I liked this okay. It appealed to me first because its title reminded me of Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, and because I like falcons, and then because I learned it used vintage photographs to augment the plot. The prologue, of a grandfather telling tall tales to his grandson, boded well. When I began to read it -- only after suggesting it for book club -- I had to dial my expectations down, and down again when I realized that it is the start of yet another trilogy. (I am heartily sick of books not being stand-alones and first or debut books being marketed as a trilogy -- and thus not having a proper ending -- before the initial book has shown whether the reading public wants more of the same (and usually worse of the same).)

Its concept and story-telling aren't good enough for a trilogy. It is going to involve the Holocaust (evident enough from the prologue, with the grandfather being sent as a boy in the late 1930s from Poland to the relative safety of western Europe) and calling his grandson Yakob, and reinforced later on with "hollowgast"). Some authors are strong enough to dance with that anvil but most just lean against it, hoping the actual event's weight will lend solidity and focus to insubstantial writing, and this is the latter.

The writing and editing are poor too. (They were worse in The Night Circus but I liked that story more.) When a Billy spoke a line, I took advantage of electronic format to look for where I had missed this character's introduction, but the name was a onceling, an error. The writing tries too hard in a way that does not ring true for the voice of 15-year-old Usan Jacob who has never heard of Ralph Waldo Emerson. When the boy pulls a trunk from beneath a bed, it leaves "parenthetical scars on the floor." In the next paragraph he sounds more like a teen from the 2010s, "going to town" on the trunk's lock trying to break it, which makes the previous phrase seem even more work-shopped. Later Jacob says "Roger Wilco" to his father, and when did he learn British wartime slang? Even "roger" seems dated now, let alone "wilco." He says something "howled like ten pigs being gelded," and this is a sound that a suburban teen is familiar with? ���Geld��� a word that leaps to mind?

Worst, the photographs are stuck in without being true to the story. An island town has no electricity or phones and thus no utility poles, making the power lines visible in a skyward photograph wrong. Photographs said to show the same person show an obviously different face.

Overall, it was entertaining but disposable, and I would have disposed of it without finishing if not for book club.

An aside, because all books are one book: Jacob skims "Self-Reliance," which resonates with him as little as it does with Richard Bascombe's same-aged son in Independence Day. Someone uses a taut rope to trip someone, and the book I finished immediately before this was The Dog Stars.

This was a book I have wanted to read for a long time. I finally got around to reading it, it was just as fantastically quirky I had hoped. It was a fun and mysterious read, also a little bit creepy at parts.

After the horrific death of Jacob’s grandfather, Jacob slumps into a deep depression. It’s determined that the only way to get Jacob out of this slump is for him to journey to the mysterious island that his grandfather grew up on. Jacob and his father journey to a remote island off of the coast of Wales. There Jacob investigates a peculiar children’s home that his grandfather grew up in. Jacob’s only clues are some mysterious pictures his grandfather left him and a peculiar note.

This was a fun and quirky read. It’s mainly a mystery about a young man trying to solve his grandfather's mysterious past....along the way he discovers children with strange powers, time travel, and evil monsters.

Jacob is an okay lead character. He is mainly characterized by his obsession to find out what really happened to his grandfather. Other than that, he wasn’t a real distinctive character for me.

What really drives this story is the mystery behind Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. The mystery unravels deliberately and things get more and more complex as Jacob unravels more and more secrets on this remote Wales island.

I am not going to get a lot more into the story beyond that because I don’t want to spoil anything. Let’s just say that through some quirks in time, all of these peculiar children that Jacob is so fascinated by may still be alive.

Of course a big draw for this book are all of the strange pictures throughout. I really enjoyed their addition to the story, they made the peculiar children all that more real to the reader. The fact that these are all actually real vintage pictures found in old picture collections makes this book even more unique and special.

The book was well written, engaging, and easy to read. What really drives the story is the mystery and what makes it enjoyable are the quirky pictures throughout. The main story is wrapped up pretty well, but there are things left unanswered for future books in the series.

Overall I enjoyed this book. It’s a very creative idea and implemented very well. The mystery is what drives the story and the pictures are fascinating and interesting. Jacob as a character could have used a bit more depth, but that really isn’t what this book is about. I am curious to see what the second book in this series will be about. I recommend this to those who are interested in a YA mystery read with fantasy overtones to it that’s a bit different than anything else out there. ( )

This book has ghosts in it and a parallel universe. If you like these kinds of things then that is a good book for you.

If I chose one thing I dislike about describing things I love, I would have to pick fabulous, phenomenal, fantastic, extraordinary, and so forth. I will do my best not to OD this review in a gaudy (oh-ho) adjective spree, but this story exhibits a certain unique quality. For a debut novel, Ransom Riggs does indeed present something peculiar. I happened to find it so peculiar smack on page one that this happened before I reached the end:

“You must” — (arms wave mid-air in wild motions toward Riggs's book) — “read this!” Muscles contort my face into a deranged wide-eyed, ear-to-ear grin expression, which looks like I’m living in great satisfaction of five stimulants too many or I’m a psychopath plotting your demise. I may down enough caffeine equivalent to the Atlantic ocean, but what my creepy face says is, “Too much enthusiasm is swelling inside, and I must share it or explode.” I prefer the first option. Besides, sharing is caring, and I care about sharing great stories.

Meanwhile, everyone shoots a blank, disinterested look and proceeds about their business. (I am surrounded by people who often fail to see the fortune in reading books. “Reading sucks,” said Dad’s Facebook profile. I retort: “I officially disown you as a blood relative. I hope dictionaries smother you for the rest of your every miserable birthday and Christmas. What an embarrassment.” I walk away, solemn, shaking my head.)

I do not think Riggs crafted a 100% original story spouting ideas and creations that cause jaws to drop in reverence. The idea of “peculiar” people (e.g., individuals with inhuman abilities — levitation or invisibility, for example) is repeatedly done time and time again. Just take a nod in the direction of X-Men, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (any superhero chronicle for that matter), or — dare I compare it? — Harry Potter (yes, I do dare). However, Riggs's talent, storyline, and (most of all) direction separates Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. These ‘peculiars’ are not superheroes, and Jacob is certainly no brooding Harry.

It begins quite promisingly:
I had come to accept that my life would be ordinary when extraordinary things began to happen. The first of these came as a terrible shock and, like anything that changes you forever, split my life into halves: Before and After. Like many of the extraordinary things to come, it involved my grandfather, Abraham Portman.

Jacob, our narrator, describes his grandfather’s stories, which are derived from none other than this mysterious home for peculiar children — “a girl who could fly, a boy who had bees living inside him, a brother and a sister who could lift boulders over their heads,” and invisible monsters with tentacles writhing out from inside their mouths. I will estimate that a good ¼ or so builds suspension about these people and creatures — do they exist or don’t they? Well, clearly they do. This should not alert anyone as a spoiler since it’s evident in the near-beginning, but the surrounding excitement is, I think, a general give-away.

Before I say anything else, I want to defend Riggs's word choice and narrative. Here’s the thing: my favorite books are almost as precious to me as my cat. They’re like my adopted children, only more endearing because they aren’t germ-spewing factories that shout, cry, and scream. It’s like when someone declares the smallest of a semi-but-not-really-insult about your mother: “Jeez, your mom’s lisp is terr—“ “SHUT. UP.” (My mom is quite articulate and lisp-less, if you are now wondering.)

I read one-star Amazon reviews where the biggest complaint seems to center on Jacob’s narration. It’s either “too obscene” for readers, “too sophisticated” for a teenaged protagonist, or Riggs's writing lacks a certain elegance. I oppose!

For those who agree some of the language is offensive: read John Green lately? Or better: read any teen books? Most authors don’t withhold cursing and rampantly fluctuating hormones because those are part of a teen’s world. I’m not about to skim through this book and compare the number of profanities, but Riggs, I think, writes appropriately and modestly from a reclusive sixteen-year-old’s view point. To add: this is no Harry Potter or Chronicles of Narnia. In other words, this book is meant for an older audience to enjoy and not nine year olds. If you want outrageous character behavior to pick at, then I kindly point you in the direction of [a:Stephenie Meyer|941441|Stephenie Meyer|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1269985304p2/941441.jpg] literature — you don’t want me to get started on that.

As for the sophistication and supposed lack of elegance and imagery: Jacob comes from a wealthy family, so I think it’s likely that his education is well satisfactory. It’s also noted that Jacob tutors is one-and-only friend in English. I have known many teens who possess an abundant vocabulary — they love reading and they love words — so I felt comfortable in respect to Riggs's word choice. Not to sound condescending (which I probably will), but if one does not know the meaning of misanthropic, there is a dictionary on the shelf if one cares to look…

I’m quite sure that anyone who’s heard of this book knows: pictures play a heavy role as part of the book. Some are calling them “creepy” vintage photographs to which the writing fails to match. The pictures aren’t particularly eerie, though they are interesting and do well as visual aids that embellish the story. But what of Riggs's writing? I disagree with everyone who says it’s somehow impaired or inadequate.

A vast lunar bog stretched away into the mist from either side of the path, just brown grass and tea-colored water as far as I could see, featureless but for the occasional mound of pile-up stones. It ended abruptly at a forest of skeletal trees, branches spindling up like the tips of wet paint brushes, and for a while the path became so lost beneath the fallen trunks and carpet of ivy that navigating it was a matter of faith.

Given that not every sentence is this lengthy, it is very well descriptive. Riggs succeeds in writing enough indulgent detail to paint fluid scenes balanced by effective dialogue. He could have gone into more vivid detail when making reference to the photographs; however, that would be overkill, as I believe the pictures serve their purpose.

Now, I frown at the average rating (presently 3.70 here on GR), because many reviewers sound disgruntled by the absent air of spookiness. Somewhat off-base, I’m reminded of M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village. That movie was advertised like an eerie spectacle rich in fright. If you have seen the movie you will know it’s not creepy at all. Interesting, yes, but not haunting.

Similarly, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children is not a book that will have your spine tingle in fear. The first quarter of the book did well in making me think a fascinating story of thrills, horror, and peril would ensue. In this regard, the story becomes anticlimactic as Jacob travels to Cairnholm in hopes that Miss Peregrine can shed light on Abe’s true past. (But is she alive?) I can’t say if Riggs intended for the uneasy apprehension to last or not (although the jacket does say, “spine-tingling fantasy”...), but this book is affluent in upholding mystery and intrigue.

What may seem like a wimpy, upper-class boy searching for proof that his grandfather wasn’t a paranoid old man with a collection of well-crafted tales is only half the story, I promise you. Suspense makes a final appearance near the end amidst some danger and concludes with a cliff-hanging adventure, which sets the premise for the next book... which is a problem. This books ends on a cliff-hanger that strikes me as more suitable for a TV show’s season finale.

Clearly, Riggs is setting us up for the next Peculiar installment, but this is like ending in the middle of a sentence. I reached the end and said, “Is my copy missing a page? ...There are no more pages? What. Excuse me, but what do you mean ‘this is the end’?”

For the sake of an example, I’ll compare the ending to [b:Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban|5|Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Harry Potter, #3)|J.K. Rowling|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1333219419s/5.jpg|2402163]:

And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon’s face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

Or how about [a:Lemony Snicket|36746|Lemony Snicket|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1199734355p2/36746.jpg]’s [b:The Bad Beginning|78411|The Bad Beginning (A Series of Unfortunate Events, #1)|Lemony Snicket|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1327916627s/78411.jpg|1069597]:
The Blaudlaires bunched up together against the cold night air, and kept waving out the back window. The car drove farther and farther away, until Justice Strauss was merely a speck in the darkness, and it seemed to the children that they were moving in an aberrant—the word “aberrant” here meaning “very, very wrong, and causing much grief”—direction.

Both books end with a conclusive feel because there is a final thought, yet they are thoughts that propose an ongoing sense of adventure. Riggs instead left me feeling completely lost at the end, but he made an impressionable mark for his first novel.

And thus concludes my extremely long-winded review! I only expect his writing to produce great things and to continue improving as more peculiarity is published. ( )

Copies of authentic Vintage Photos provided from various collections.

A most peculiar book, monsters and shadows, are they all based on Jacob's grandfather's fears as a Jewish child in Poland pre-WWII and the only one of his family to survive? He was sent to an orphanage on an island in Wales in the earliest part of the war. But according to Jacob's grandpa, this was no ordinary home. This, Ransom Riggs' first novel, grows on you as you read. There are several vintage photographs to go along with the stories Jacob has heard all his life of the wonderful and unique home, the safe place. The children most certainly have special abilities one could call peculiar, but Jacob is not sure how much to believe now that he is in his teens. Stories of circus acts, stories of terrible monsters, can they possibly be real? Some very strange things can turn out to be real and some that seem real are not to be believed.

When his grandfather dies a horrible death and Jacob catches a glimpse of what he has only heard of before, he begins to suspect there is more to the stories. With his last breath, his grandfather cryptically tells him to go to the island, so he can be "safe", and gives him a date: September 3, 1940.

So begins this incredible journey where reality and unreality meet head on. If it weren't for Jacob's father's compulsive interest in Ornithology, and the island noted for its birds, the journey might never have begun. It's on the island where the story really takes on a life of its own. A story of lightness and darkness, magic and horror, atmospheric, a life that only Jacob appears to see. Ransom Riggs will entertain you, transfix you, make you think a bit about spatial displacement, where seemingly ordinary children can be truly extraordinary (especially if one is invisible) and everything you thought was a fairy-tale of ogres and monsters in the woods can be true. I really enjoyed this wonderfully strange journey into the author's imagination... or is it all true...

Copies of authentic Vintage Photos used in this novel and provided from various Collections are listed in the back of the book attributed to the Collections where known. These photos spread throughout the book provide a real backbone to the story. ( )