Robert RepinoRecensioni

I really liked this book, but felt aspects of the ending were a bit weak (suddenly the undefeatable enemy is readily, simply defeated.) Other than that, a happy-to-suspend-my-disbelief read with a few deeper messages buried along the way.

When I hear a book being touted as "Toy Story meets Stranger Things," I'm going to give it a shot. The problem with comparisons though is that they are not always accurate, and thus they can be misleading. Not always, but in this particular instance I was certainly hoping for more than what I actually got.

Safe. Simplistic. Bland. Meh.

Those are some of the words that come to mind when I think back on my reading of Spark. The further I get from it the more I feel disinterested by it. It's not a bad book by any means. The writing is adept, the story structure is sound, the background lore is interesting, and the characters are fairly dynamic. Yet, I never found myself fully invested in it whilst reading. And I'm still struggling to put my finger on exactly why.

Unlike Toy Story, I didn't feel emotionally connected to any of these characters. It has its poignant moments, but for most of the book I was just turning pages and my heart wasn't into it. And unlike Stranger Things, the monsters were less than terrifying and the action scenes less than gripping. It's hitting the right beats for the story, but not knocking them out of the park or do anything unique. I really enjoy YA horror, but this one wasn't nearly scary or profound enough for me to sink my teeth into.

Thank you to the publisher for sending me a copy in exchange for an honest review!

audio book. So close to going onto the "Didn't Finish" shelf. The first part, pretty much until Sebastian became human-like, I really enjoyed. Once it turned into an extraordinarily boring war diary, it nearly lost me entirely. The end of the book? A bit of a fizzle but made up for the horrid mid-section. I definitely wouldn't have finished it if I had been reading it - but I was able to zone out so much of the audio book I was able to make it through.

I am going to give this book a somewhat unfair review. Unfair because the author danced so close to a line that he dared not cross because doing so would've cost him readers (perhaps many) and possibly getting published, at least by a larger publisher. This book deserves more than a three, but not a four.

Before I get into my philosophical dispute about Mort(e), since I listened to an audio version of the book, I'll say a bit about it. The narrator was Bronson Pinchot, who has quite a few audiobooks under his belt, and justly so. He does a stellar job here. He calibrated the pitch and cadence of his voice exactly as it needed to be for the given situation. His voices of the various characters shone too: consistent, appropriate, believable.

I was finishing [b:The Conspiracy Against the Human Race|8524528|The Conspiracy Against the Human Race|Thomas Ligotti|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1400962805l/8524528._SX50_.jpg|2696709] by [a:Thomas Ligotti|128466|Thomas Ligotti|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1371462738p2/128466.jpg] as I started Mort(e). Ligotti is best known as a writer of horror short-stories -- not in the blood and gore sense, but in the existential, atmospheric sense. In Ligotti's stories, the world horrifies and terrifies the characters more than anything else. The actions of the antagonists serve to make the characters aware of how little the universe cares about them, how easily anything can shatter their perceived safety, and how few heartbeats stand between anyone and death.

Ligotti's writing comes by these characteristics honestly. He is a philosophical pessimist, and Conspiracy is his nonfiction book about said philosophy and the literature and religions related to it. From what I've said so far, you can probably guess a couple of the horror authors he discusses -- Lovecraft and Poe -- and that Buddhism gets some coverage as well as Schopenhauer. The primary basis for this book is the work of a Norwegian philosopher, [a:Peter Zapffe|8111058|Peter Zapffe|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png]. Most of his work has not been untranslated (and given how depressing it is, one should not be surprised by this), but an essay in which he sums up his views is available in English: "[b:The Last Messiah|22060860|The Last Messiah (Nihilistic Buddhism, Antinatalism, Pessimism)|Peter Wessel Zapffe|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1399679765l/22060860._SX50_.jpg|41390521]."

Zapffe was one of the harder core pessimists, residing in a camp holding that humans possess an excess of consciousness, for it is this and the awareness it grants that allows us to be horrified. Furthermore, because of this, it is unethical to make more humans. This is necessarily a simplification, and as there is no single, core strain of philosophical pessimism, not all its exponents hold these views. Read Conspiracy and "Messiah" if you want to learn more.

So, back to Mort(e), and skipping a description because you've read the synopsis, and this is already getting long. For the first third and change of this book, I felt as if Mort(e) the character was walking a rather dark, Zapffian path. As he was developing human-level consciousness and then fighting in the war against the humans, and seeing the animals doing terrible things to the humans as well as other animals, he would argue, mostly with his commanding officer, that it was all pointless, that it would end up being just under the control of the Colony as it was under humans. I kept waiting for him to say, or admit to himself, that consciousness was not all it was cracked up to be, that it was the root of the problem.

To a small extent, the book takes this tack, but only to the extent that the animals' intelligence and awareness, run afoul of the plans of the Colony's Queen. (I'm trying to avoid spoilers here, so if you've read this already, forgive the inaccuracies born of vagueness.) Consciousness is a problem for the Queen, not in and of itself.


Most disappointingly, despite being the most aware observer of the horror unleashed on and within the animals (to say nothing of on the world) by elevating them to the level of human consciousness, Mort(e) chooses to uplift (awaken? consciousify?) Sheba, his dear friend from before the war.

Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. Hell, I probably would've done the same thing in his shoes. But it made the story less satisfying in my opinion -- at least steeped as in dark philosophies as my mind is at the moment. But, even absent that mental tea, I think I would've enjoyed it being left unanswered at least. It would give the reader something interesting to chew on. And to be fair, it would have pissed off a lot of readers too, though perhaps fewer in this post-modern age than it would have in earlier times.

I also wonder what Mort(e) would've done if he'd had the option to go back to being a normal cat? It was a far simpler time, lacking awareness of his mortality, living in a safe environment, and able to enjoy simple pleasures like curling up with Sheba in a way he could now only experience in memories.


As I said at the top, this knock is somewhat unfair. Most people don't want to hear that consciousness might be a mistake. Ligotti points this out many times in Conspiracy, and that the question is unanswerable except on a personal level. His sympathies lie on one side of it, of course, but he's wise enough to understand why the people in his camp don't get invited to a lot of parties as well as not to blame those not sending the invites. He wrote Conspiracy as a sort of plea -- a plea that the proposition get a little more airtime, that more people at least consider it even if they don't agree.

And that's where I come down on Mort(e): by delving a bit more into the philosophical realm he was already exploring, Repino would have written much more interesting, discussion-engendering book. Not all books need to be or should be this, but he toed that line so closely (and probably unwittingly, though perhaps he has read Ligotti and Zapffe), that it frustrated me.

I decided to DNF Mort(e) because although the premise of the book sounded really interesting, I cannot handle ants and the vivid descriptions of creepy-crawly things. And ants that are as large as humans, no less! Insectphobe, here.

The first chapter was enjoyable, though. Definitely raised some thoughts about societal treatment of animals. I need to go love on my kitty now and tell her she is not my slave.

I did flip to the last page and saw the last sentence, which resolved what I was pondering in the first chapter. So for that, I'm good.

I can see where the author was going, but the world-building fell short, especially with the bears' special words for things and the confusing flashbacks.

Short story, part of the continuing story of Mort(e), where the ants have risen from their insect world, communicated and given intelligence to animals, in order to overthrow humans. Written from the bobcat Culdesac's point of view it is a gruesome description of hunting and killing humans, while civilian (previous pets) inhabitants of the town of Milton begin to question the authority of the ants, and plant the idea of possibility that humans could live side by side with the animals. Well written.

The conceit is still good, the animal traits are good, but the characters are flattish. I fully intend to read the sequel.½

Not essential; we get to see Culdesac's origin story and Mort(e) being perky. Still a good read as it complicates the story told so simply from the house cat's view; instead of a global transformation of all the mammals and birds, there are the disastrous and horrifying failures and the animals whose loyalties persist.

I really had fun reading this. The setup sounds so ridiculous when you try to explain it, but Repino owns it, and comes away with plausible, fascinating characters.

Got a quarter through, and just felt like a silly version of Walking Dead (but without any of the detail of the fighting), and most importantly the characters are pretty boring. The main character is pining for someone... for a quarter of the book. It's just too boring.

Science fiction story in which animals become sentient and rise up against their former human masters. The war which results lasts for the whole book and consequently it feels quite attritional. However, it was interesting talking about the role of religion, which is treated as a virus which is not unambiguously bad for its victims. Looks like there might be more books in a series but don’t think I will bother.

I really liked this book. I was engaged the whole way through. While I agree with some of the other reviewers that some of the characters, Mort(e) especially, lacked development, I also found that he was easiest for me to identify with. Even if it didn't seem like there was enough there to justify Mort(e) searching for Sheba so single-mindedly, it still made sense to me; I can imagine that being thrust suddenly into sentience and understanding of one's slavery, I'd want to search for that one comforting piece of home. Not to mention that while I understand the bloodthirsty uprising of the animals, having been made to realize their plight, I'm not a fighter. Mort(e), despite his skill at it, just wants a normal life, whatever that is in this new world of upright, sentient animals.

This book brought up something I love to think about even if it wasn't really explored here - how justified would the bloodbath be if animals gained sentience suddenly? The characters in this book referred to their previous slavery multiple times, but I'm sure many of us don't believe we are keeping our pets enslaved. There's at least one reviewer on this site even who said they reassured their pets that they're loved members of the family! But look at the way we treat wild animals and especially livestock: no one can argue there's not cruelty there. Even with the pets we treat with love and provide every comfort to, if you replaced them with humans, slavery is the exact word. But many would argue that since our pets are not sentient, we are justified in keeping them neutered and de-clawed. It's for their own good, I guess. Pets evolved side-by-side with us so really, they're exactly suited to the lives they live in our homes. I'm not trying to argue for or against that; it's actually more interesting to assume that we are morally justified in the way we treat our pets (barring abuse, of course). So then say they gain sentience for some reason or another. We are now morally obligated to treat them like people, let them make their own decisions, not keep them in our houses against their wills, etc. I could understand their pain and anger at realizing they've been kept prisoner, been physically mutilated to serve our purpose and not theirs. Can we be blamed for doing something that was reasonable at the time? Are we responsible for the pain and suffering caused for a creature who now understands what it means to be a parent and to want children, but is unable to? Can we mitigate the anger by immediately apologizing and creating social structures to support their new-found sentience and prevent further abuse? Would they understand the way we treated them before sentience and forgive us? I actually think this is more compelling when thinking about AI, because there are very good arguments that the way we treat animals, even pets, is unjustified. It would be much easier for us to create AI that mimics the state of being alive while knowing that it is not "truly" alive. But say your AI gains enough complexity for emergent sentience? At what point do you even realize that your AI is truly sentient instead of just mimicking? What does that even mean? Is Data a person??

ANYWAY. They don't even talk about this stuff in the book. So 3 stars for the book by itself, and an extra star for all that stuff it made me think about.

I received an ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. My thoughts and opinions are my own. Any quotes I use are from an unpublished copy and may not reflect the finished product.

When I first stumbled across Spark and the League of Ursus, I was so excited! Teddy bears that are alive and keep their children safe? Awesome! Toy Story was one of my favorite movies growing up (the third one still makes me cry), and it's one my monsters also enjoy. Unfortunately, this book left a lot to be desired. The story and characters lacked depth, and the details were vague and unsubstantiated. More often than not, the plot didn't make a lick of sense, and it frequently contradicted previously established facts. I really wanted to love this book, so I went into it with high expectations. I didn't expect weak world-building and confusing character origins.

In a nutshell, the teddy bears (and occasionally other toys) come to life whenever they are loved into existence by a child. From what I can tell, age doesn't really matter, and the toys can be passed from one person to the next without it affecting their aliveness. However, they're supposed to protect until the final light, and we're told how that could potentially happen, which means Sir Reginald the Brave should have ceased to exist the moment Dad put him in the attic. Instead, his son (Matthew) is gifted Sir Reginald years later. Spark is given to Loretta, and Sir Reginald teachers her about the job and what it means to be a teddy bear. Apparently, there are monsters and demons, but we only see Jakmal (more on that in a moment).

Things I want to know after reading this book:

1) Where do the teddy bears come from? How did the League of Ursus establish itself in the world? We see how the League of Ursus is formed (sort of), but there's very little information regarding how they expanded, which leads me to...
2) How did the teddy bears communicate with one another? They didn't write letters, make phone calls, or travel through underground tunnels, so how did the League talk to ALL of the living teddy bears around the world? It wasn't feasible.
3) Where do the stories come from? How are they passed down, if a teddy bear only starts living once they are given to a child? Sir Reginald was able to tell Spark, but if he started his existence once Dad loved him enough, then where did he get his stories? His information? How did he talk to the League?
4) Why is it mostly teddy bears, but occasionally other toys (sock monkey, princess)?
5) They "go where they are needed" the most? Where is that? Who knows that? How are they informed?
6) If they live "until their final light," how was Sir Reginald passed off at the end?
7) Now there are magical teddy bears? They're called hexens? How does that happen? How does it work?
8) Oh, now imaginary friends can be brought to life? They have no physical boundaries, because they emerged from a special child's imagination? WELL, THAT MAKES ABOLUTELY NO SENSE.
9) Why did Sophia insist Matthew change the ending of the movie they were all working on? Why did the hero need to discover the magic within themselves? Who told her this? How was it relevant? Did it impact the story in some way?
10) Why didn't Jakmal get to speak for himself?

There was hardly any resolution at the end, which FRUSTRATES ME GREATLY. The immediate conflict was resolved, and the children were saved, but they didn't actually "defeat" the evil monster. Additionally, the evil monster might not have been a bad guy, only someone that was wronged and misunderstood. According to the teddy bears, Jakmal was a creature of their own making, and I actually wanted him to succeed with his not-so-nefarious plans. If I were him, I would've been pissed and looking for a way out of my eternal hell as well, so I can't really fault him for his actions. He didn't hurt anyone, and it seemed like he just wanted a way to end the pain he was in (that doesn't mean I think it was okay for him to abduct children). UNFORTUNATELY, NONE OF THAT WAS RESOLVED. The author doesn't even touch on what happened to him, or talk about how his story will end. I haven't heard anything about a sequel, which makes it worse.

Spark and the League of Ursus lacked character development, had way too many plot holes, and left me feeling like the story was unfinished. I liked the characters, but didn't connect with them. The information presented in this book was confusing and contradictory, and I wish the magical elements had been expanded on. You can't create something like this without also providing readers with a strong background, and a world with clearly defined rules. It also needs to be something that can be built upon, just in case there is more story to tell. Lastly, no resolution really chafes, and it's not something that I can easily forgive as a reader. (★★★☆☆)

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Series Info/Source: This is the first book in The League of Ursus series. I got this book from the publisher to review.

Story (4/5): This is a well done middle grade book about stuffed animals that keep their children safe. I am not completely sure what age group this is aimed at. The writing and story were very simple and it's about sentient stuffed animals, but all of the kids in here are middle grade or older and there are some scenes that are pretty scary...so I am guessing it's an easy middle grade read. While I didn't find this book to be all that unique, it was well written and provides a decent mystery. It is very obviously the beginning of a series.

Characters (3/5): I felt like none of the characters were really all that filled out, they were pretty simple two dimensional characters. I did enjoy the kids more; Loretta and her brother were interesting kids...however, the focus of the story really isn’t on them but on their stuffed teddy bears.

Setting (4/5): The book takes place in Loretta’s house where Spark and the other stuffed animals dwell. The setting is not the focus of the book. Although, you do end up through a portal into a different place for a brief portion of the book. This was interesting and hopefully will feature in future books.

Writing Style (4/5): This book is easy to read and written at a much lower reading level than most middle grade books. It reads more like a children’s book but features preteen-aged characters. I did find it a bit dry at times and wished there was more humor.

My Summary (4/5): If you are into the whole sentient stuffed animals/toys theme I would recommend this book. Just keep in mind this is a pretty simple story written at a pretty low reading level. I would also recommend "The Stuff of Legends" series, which is a graphic novel series with the same theme but with a lot more depth to it. I feel like “The Stuff of Legend” series lends itself to a wider age group range.½

Interesting and unsettling...and then falls off the rails. In the hands of a more skilled author it may have been more cohesive.

DNF @ 6%

Rather not deal with deliberate, cruel puppy deaths thanks.

This short book, although mostly a backstory on one of the most terrifying characters from Mort(e), was more of what I wanted and expected from a novel about a war. We saw the war from Mort(e)'s point of view and now we see it from Culdesac's. It is way more brutal, raw, and, well, natural. He is a bobcat, after all and oh, does he miss the hunt. He was born and bred to wreck havoc and it's admirable, in a way, how he does so without missing a beat. This book almost makes me want to go back and give Mort(e) a re-read, with this new understanding of the fearsome Captain.

I think I ended up liking this more than Mort(e). It was interesting, concise, and kept me hooked the whole way.

This book is definitely a departure from anything I normally read, so I definitely enjoyed it from that aspect. I felt that the concept was so interesting, but that the execution was off and some key details of HOW and WHY were glossed over.

So much good writing, so little continuity of worldbuilding; such a welcome divergence from animals always being fable characters, so little truly fresh horror in the science/religion antipathy to which the plot devolves. Several characters became richly memorable, and the actual chemical trick pulled off at the end of a regime (no spoiling) was clever, but how the characters got to where they were? How the wildly different communication methods of two major groups got "translated"? The author almost succeeded in maintaining a mood of gritty realism, but the wimpy science ended up killing the mood. So, dear author, write us a story about characters, pull maybe one or two fantastic elements into the story if you like, but give us more dialogue and more almost-tacit, yet evocative scenes. The kind in which you draw the reader's emotional response first and maybe explain later, or not. Sebastian not understanding Sheba's hesitation to explore, when he thought he was giving her everything. Culdesac's climactic moment. Michael's nurse. The flabbergasted real estate agent driven to beg over a few words in magic marker. Mort(e) telling a roomful of retroactive mythologers never to call him by his old name again. Wawa fighting her urge not to treat the young in the RP like pack. Those were the scenes I celebrated, and they were by far the strength of the book.

Interesting premise but falls flat at times.

I stumbled onto Mort(e) at my local library, attracted by the striking cover portrait of Mort(e). Animals are transformed into speaking creatures with opposable thumbs, and a war with humans results (The War with No Name). Both humans and animals are portrayed in a very realistic manner. Repino understands cats and soldiers, despite, apparently, being neither.
I usually prefer hard science fiction, where the science and tech are made believable. Repino doesn’t bother much with that part of the story, but his storytelling and characters made this a memorable read.
Sebastian is a neutered and declawed housecat when the Change occurs. Despite his disabilities, his exploits lead to him becoming known as Sebastian the Warrior. He becomes a special ops trooper with the Red Sphinx, an all feline unit. This is a perfect touch. If I were recruiting intelligent animal commandos, I know two feral cat colonies where I would start. Sebastian adopts the nom de guerre Mort(e), illustrating both his sardonic sense of humor and erudition, and Repino’s playful use of French.
Mort(e) is the best feline character in fiction. Mort(e)’s story continues in D’Arc , and they should be read in order. Culdesac is a novella that should be read after Mort(e), but not necessarily before D’Arc.
Culdesac is the bobcat who commands Red Sphinx. Mort(e) is only a minor character in this work, but Nox is the second best feline character in fiction. Don’t miss her.

I stumbled onto Mort(e) at my local library, attracted by the striking cover portrait of Mort(e). Animals are transformed into speaking creatures with opposable thumbs, and a war with humans results (The War with No Name). Both humans and animals are portrayed in a very realistic manner. Repino understands cats and soldiers, despite, apparently, being neither.
I usually prefer hard science fiction, where the science and tech are made believable. Repino doesn’t bother much with that part of the story, but his storytelling and characters made this a memorable read.
Sebastian is a neutered and declawed housecat when the Change occurs. Despite his disabilities, his exploits lead to him becoming known as Sebastian the Warrior. He becomes a special ops trooper with the Red Sphinx, an all feline unit. This is a perfect touch. If I were recruiting intelligent animal commandos, I know two feral cat colonies where I would start. Sebastian adopts the nom de guerre Mort(e), illustrating both his sardonic sense of humor and erudition, and Repino’s playful use of French.
Mort(e) is the best feline character in fiction. Mort(e)’s story continues in D’Arc , and they should be read in order. Culdesac is a novella that should be read after Mort(e), but not necessarily before D’Arc.
Culdesac is the bobcat who commands Red Sphinx. Mort(e) is only a minor character in this work, but Nox is the second best feline character in fiction. Don’t miss her.

I stumbled onto Mort(e) at my local library, attracted by the striking cover portrait of Mort(e). Animals are transformed into speaking creatures with opposable thumbs, and a war with humans results (The War with No Name). Both humans and animals are portrayed in a very realistic manner. Repino understands cats and soldiers, despite, apparently, being neither.
I usually prefer hard science fiction, where the science and tech are made believable. Repino doesn’t bother much with that part of the story, but his storytelling and characters made this a memorable read.
Sebastian is a neutered and declawed housecat when the Change occurs. Despite his disabilities, his exploits lead to him becoming known as Sebastian the Warrior. He becomes a special ops trooper with the Red Sphinx, an all feline unit. This is a perfect touch. If I were recruiting intelligent animal commandos, I know two feral cat colonies where I would start. Sebastian adopts the nom de guerre Mort(e), illustrating both his sardonic sense of humor and erudition, and Repino’s playful use of French.
Mort(e) is the best feline character in fiction. Mort(e)’s story continues in D’Arc , and they should be read in order. Culdesac is a novella that should be read after Mort(e), but not necessarily before D’Arc.
Culdesac is the bobcat who commands Red Sphinx. Mort(e) is only a minor character in this work, but Nox is the second best feline character in fiction. Don’t miss her.