This review is the first of two, the second of which will arrive tomorrow or Thursday. I've been deliberately been putting this one off as I just couldn't bring myself to finish the book in question until yesterday.
Now, before we go any further let me just say for the record that at no point, do I resent David Walliams as a celebrity or a person. He's worked a hard graft and earned his place as a British trademark. My problem lies in the fact that his books, in my opinion, really aren't all that good. They are certainly not of a standard where I would say he's Roald Dahl's successor. If this recent book I've read is anything to go by, they don't even come close. Where Roald Dahl invented new crazy language and wove it in as a part of a well crafted story, Walliams just drops nonsense words in as comic book style effects and devices to serve overly crude toilet humour. Where the darkness of Dahl's tone attracted adults and children alike, Walliams casually threw in subtle adult jokes such as 'pull the other one, it's got bells on' which was uncomfortably plonked in the middle of this book for no real reason or rhyme what so ever.
Where Dahl accentuated his characters by providing depth and backgrounds Walliams relies on generic 'fat, whimsical' women to do the majority of his charm adding (both in this book and in Demon Dentist).
So it outrages me to think that he's making millions off of what I think it ridiculously poor writing when other, hard working authors who are so much better are scrounging a living and not getting any real recognition in what is one of the most cut throat industries in existence: children's literature.
Truth be told there is a lot wrong with the system. For example deals made between supermarkets and publishers are done with the idea in mind that supermarkets can make a profit by bulk selling books at low prices. So when these deals are arranged, of course, places would rather buy large quantities of a brand name such as JK Rowling than take a risk on a lesser known author. Cough, cough, that's probably why Phillip Pullman's books are still doing so well. But this means that the only cheap books that families can afford are ones like Harry Potter, Diary of a Wimpy Kid, David Walliams books etc, we've all seen them on the shelves at Tesco.
Worst of all Walliams has opened a celebrity door, allowing people who are not authors to saturate the market. I still baulk at the fact that we are now getting books about horses from Clare Balding (sorry Clare I should probably try and give it more of a chance). So I feel a lot of resentment towards those who are milking a celebrity status to create sub par material at the expense of people far more qualified in the role. It would be like Boris Johnson getting paid mega bucks to do my job when he had no bloomin clue how to do it and then going out of the way to see me get paid less than my already ridiculously low wage.
On to the book review now after that long rant (haha). Ice Monster is set in Victorian England where orphan Elsie escapes the tortured life at her orphanage and winds up on the streets. She becomes fixated with the Natural History Museum and forms an unlikely friendship with Dotty, one of it's cleaners who is as dotty as her name suggests (yes she's the token fat chick). One day a woolly mammoth, still frozen in a large block of ice arrives at the museum. There's a huge grand opening of the mammoth exhibit in front of Queen Victoria and everything. Fascinated by the creature, Elsie and Dotty form a plan to resurrect it and return it to the North Pole where it belongs. With the help of Dotty's boyfriend, Titch (token short man) and his fellow Chelsea pensioners they steal an old battleship and a race between the heroes and the villains (an unscrupulous scientist and seasoned poacher) ensues.
My problem from the get go with this book was in the inferior character and plot development. I didn't really sympathise with Elsie's predicament because there was nothing in the writing that made me really feel like she was a character at all. The characters and their situations were very flat, there was no real depth or development. I was so un-enchanted with it that I was able to easily put the book down right in the middle of a climactic chase scene,a piece of text which should have had me engrossed and unable to put the book down.
All of the criticisms in my rant earlier featured in this book, which wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't come across the exact same issues in Demon Dentist (which I'd read two years ago). There's no real extended vocabulary, it's almost like the effort is non existent. The little non fiction section about mammoths and Victorian England is a nice touch, as is the use of interesting chapter titles here and there but that's about it.
There were far too many fart and bottom jokes and an absurd amount of illustrations and comic book style onomatopoeic words that swallowed entire pages. All in all, it was a huge disappointment, I feel like the author is riding on the coat tails of Quentin Blake style illustrations in order to enhance the Dahl-esque comparisons.
I know there are celebrities out there who can write half decent books. The two books by actors that I read back in 2018 were two very good examples. But there are those who just aren't very good. For me, until I can read something that proves me wrong, I will always believe that David Walliams is one of them.
Book 16 out of 52 and my book by someone who is not, was not and never will be an author.
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