Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs

As a child, Jacob’s grandfather told him stories of invisible boys and levitating girls. As he grew up, Jacob thought that his grandfather was telling tales, masking his experiences as a Jewish World War II refugee in the comfortable guise of fairy tales. The monsters the children feared were in reality Nazis; the kids were only different due to religion blah blah blah. But then one day his grandfather is killed and Jacob swears he saw a tentacle-mouthed creature lurking in the nearby woods. Soon after, Jacob receives a mysterious letter that propels him on a journey to the remote Welsh island where his grandfather grew up. When he gets there, he discovers Miss Peregrine and her Peculiar Children who are the same age as they were in his grandfather’s stories. That’s because they are in a time loop, living the same day over and over in order to protect themselves from creatures like the one that killed Jacob’s grandfather. Basically, Miss Peregrine’s orphanage is

The book is basically a less-interesting Xmen. The book features vintage photographs of some “peculiar” children.  Clearly the author found these uber-creepy photos first and then threw slapped a story around it.

All the characters are flat and provide little reason to care for him. Jacob doesn’t have any friends, probably because he’s a jerk who spends hours complaining how rich his family is (must be nice). Even the mutants (sorry, peculiar children) aren’t interesting. Each has only one note to play and has no background, nothing to make them remarkable beyond the one ability that Riggs has given them that may or may not have anything to do with the picture.

And thinking about these “children”: isn’t it odd that they look and act like children? Aren’t they super old? Shouldn’t we see something more along the lines of Kirsten Dunst’s character in the movie, “Interview with a Vampire”–an adult stuck in a child’s body? And what is it with all these guys being attracted to ice cold women pointing knives into their bellies? Do I need to read more Freud or something?

The only “child” who is even remotely fleshed out is Emma aka: The Obligatory Romantic Interest (and no one finds it odd that they’re hooking up considering she was canoodling with Jacob’s grandfather 70 years ago. Thanks Twilight). And then the book just…ends. So stay tuned for the sequel.

Seriously guys. Just search Google Images for the cool photos and call it a day.


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