Life sometimes likes to remind me that I am not actually in control.  Life is sort of an asshat like that.  With any luck, I’ll get back to regular posting. 🙂

In the meantime: More bad book!

Clary and Jace go to a church to pick up ‘weapons.’  Because, you know, God is real and has tangible, measurable effect on the corporeal world and such.  Nice of this book to settle millennia of religious wars.

She watched him as he worked at the lock, watched the lean curve of his back, the swell of muscles under the short sleeves of his T-shirt.

What kind of muscles is Jace swelling when he picks a lock?  That’s not really an act that takes a lot of raw force.

After Jace picks the lock to the fence, he stops at the actual door to the church and does some ritualistic asking-permission-to-the-building thing, and therefore they get to go on.

With every word I read, I get a little more pissed off at this book and the way it handles churches.  It treats them like cool old gothic ruins from some mysterious, long-lost civilization called “Catholics.”  There’s not even a hint of a nod toward the fact that these are buildings used every day by normal people and are central to a religion.  (I’m also curious if the author would be so gung-ho over churches of the non-gothic type.  What about one that operates out of a converted office building?  Or would that just get passed over in her half-assed mythology?)

When Clary stepped inside, a wave of cool air enveloped her, along with the smell of stone and candle wax. Dim rows of pews stretched toward the altar, and a bank of candles glowed like a bed of sparks against the far wall. She realized that, apart from the Institute, which didn’t really count, she’d never actually been inside a church before. She’d seen pictures, and seen the insides of churches in movies and in anime shows, where they turned up regularly.

I wanted to make some snarky comment here about how it seems the author’s never been in a church either, but the closest church to Diamond Street is around the corner on Humboldt, and it looks like this:

Still, I feel the need to point out that you’re equally likely to run into a church that looks like this:

But I guess that looks too ‘normal’ and not enough like a set piece.  Not that cool gothic churches aren’t ‘real’ or anything, I’m just sick of seeing them used like a dramatic backdrop.

“Not specifically. Demons have been on Earth as long as we have. They’re all over the world, in their different forms—Greek daemons, Persian daevas, Hindu asuras, Japanese oni. Most belief systems have some method of incorporating both their existence and the fight against them.  Shadowhunters cleave to no single religion, and in turn all religions assist us in our battle. I could as easily have gone for help to a Jewish synagogue or a Shinto temple, or—Ah. Here it is.”

Well, that’s something, I guess.  Pretty weak, though, and doesn’t explain where your ill-defined powers come from, or why sacred ground has tangible effects.  It also doesn’t even come close to explaining why only the religions are helping you.  There’s a reason demons are generally presented as subtle forces, not actual things with a punchable face.  If they had punchable faces, we’d sic the army on them, not the priests.

He brushed dust aside as she knelt down beside him. Carved into one of the octagonal stones before the altar was a rune.

Excuse me, dust?  The Saint Stanislaus Kostka Church, pictured above, has mass at least four times a day, seven days a week.  They also have other events multiple times a week, such as devotions, classes, and special events.  There would not be dust on the floor.  Again, this is a church, not some dusty old ruins that you can co-opt into your story all willy-nilly.  You never see this kind of treatment applied to a courthouse, or a union station, and those places often have killer architecture.  So fuck off the churches already.

On top of that, Jace pulls aside a stone tile in the floor and pulls out a box of weapons, including holy water and crucifixes, as well as some other random stuff.  Why is this in the floor right next to the alter?  Did you see the pictures of that church?  Here’s another one:

It’s huge.  It has a whole other building next to the actual pews-having part.  There’s classrooms and offices and meeting rooms big enough for a stage.  There is no reason to be putting these right next to the altar.  Hide it in the main office, or in some classroom, or in the landscaping.  Hell, have a special statue that’s outside the locked fence and has a hidden compartment in the base or something.  What happens if the hunters need their Box ‘o Weapons in the middle of mass?  (Which, again, four times a day, seven days a week.)

Jace explains that he doesn’t believe in God, for the standard reasons.  “I’ve seen all this bad shit and God hasn’t shown up to do anything about it.”  Valid reason, but excuse me for sitting over here and yawning. 

Also?  Stuff it.  You’re fighting demons with holy water.  Holy water!  As in, water that has special properties because GOD SAID SO.  I don’t know if you can get more proof-y than that.  And if it’s not made special by God-powers, then call it something else.

This book has no interest in doing anything with religion except rehashing the most tired tropes around.  There is no reason for religion to be in this book, just like there’s no reason for Clary to be in this book.

There was something about Jace, though, that made her want to push him, crack that shell of cynicism and make him admit he believed in something, felt something, cared about anything at all.

You don’t break through someone’s cynicism and get them to care about ‘anything’ by needling them about religious things.  You do that by discussing the ‘anything.’ 

Well, after that sidetrack into wall-bangery, they finally arrive at the hotel where the vampires are.  Isabelle and Alec are nowhere in sight because….why didn’t they call for backup again?  They’re going up against a whole hotel of vampires that already hate them.  Backup would be nice.

“Right now everything sounds like more fun.” She wondered if [Jace] meant it. There was an excitement about him, an anticipation of the hunt that didn’t look to her as if he were as unhappy as he claimed.

First, do not put Jace’s dialogue and Clary’s thoughts on the same line.  Bad editor, bad!

Second, there’s a difference between ‘fun’ and ‘the adrenaline rush that comes from getting ready for a fight.’  The second can be fun, but it can also not be fun.  It’s more like a drug that you get addicted to, and it’s a great high while you’re on it, but then you feel sick after, and of course there’s also that desperation from knowing that you’ll never be able to get off that drug, and nothing else you do will hold a candle to that sort of intensity, and you just wish you’d never been in a fight before so you could at least enjoy a quiet life, because that way everything else wouldn’t pale in comparison to that rush.

*ahem*  Anyway.  Yeah, it’s complicated.

“Stay out of the light,” Jace said, pulling her toward him by her sleeve. “They might be watching from the windows.”

Light pollution: fucking up your attempts to stay in the shadows in Manhattan since…ever. 

Also, they’re nocturnal creatures, are you telling me they don’t have night vision?  Fail.

She felt her heightened nervousness in her spine,

Yeah?  What did it feel like?

…scattered things that Clary thought at first were toothpicks, but up close looked like—

“Bones,” Jace said flatly. “Dog bones, cat bones. Don’t look too closely; going through vampires’ trash is rarely a pretty picture.”

BONES DO NOT LOOK LIKE TOOTHPICKS.  Even after you break them.  Why is Clary so bad at figuring out what things are?

The hotel is all boarded up, with only the top floors open for the vampires to fly in and out.  Clary and Jace decide that they’ll find the basement doors, which are usually located in the street instead of in the building wall. 

“I guess we’d better move the trash. We can start with the Dumpster.” He pointed at it, looking distinctly unenthusiastic.

“You’d rather face a ravening horde of demons, wouldn’t you?” Clary said.

“At least they wouldn’t be crawling with maggots.”

Hey, author, your sensibilities are showing again.  This is the concern of a sheltered first-worlder who considers things to be icky as soon as they touch the trash can.  This is not the attitude of a badass who has killed five hundred demons and trained his whole life to excel in nasty situations and who has probably been covered in blood, guts, sweat, and ichor multiple times in his life.  Please at least make an attempt at perspective when writing characters different from you.

“This is hardly the time for idle banter. We have garbage to haul.”

It hasn’t been the time for banter at any point so far in this book, and yet you keep doing it.

Clary and Jace try and figure out how to move a dumpster quietly (lol, yeah right) when they are interrupted by a Hispanic stereotype.  The random-spanish-spouting boy tries to tell them it’s a bad neighborhood and offers to guide them to the subway.  Apparently this boy named Raphael had brother who the vampires killed, so he tries to warn people away from the hotel now.  When Clary and Jace refuse to be warned, he shows them how to get inside instead.

Great job with the warning, there, Raph.

And…what was the point of all that?  They were in the process of figuring how to get in on their own.  Why did we need someone to drop by and tell them things they already know? 

Turns out Raph is going with them.  (Doesn’t negate the fact that he prevented the characters from actually doing something on their own.  He could have shown up after they found the basement door and got in.)  Also, Raph isn’t human.  He showed up far too conveniently and managed to sneak up on Jace, which the text informs us is impossible.  (Show, don’t tell!  But since this author doesn’t seem capable, I have no choice but to believe the tells.)  The characters aren’t going to realize this for a while, though.  Because that’s how hack writing always goes.  So predictable.

“I know what they look like. They are paler, thinner than human beings, but very strong. They walk like cats and spring with the swiftness of serpents. They are beautiful and terrible. Like this hotel.”

“You think it’s beautiful?” Clary asked, surprised.

“You can see where it was, years ago. Like an old woman who was once beautiful, but time has taken her beauty away. You must imagine this staircase the way it was once, with the gas lamps burning all up and down the steps, like fireflies in the dark, and the balconies full of people. Not the way it is now, so—”

Who talks like this?  And why can’t I stop reading it with Speedy Gonzales’s voice?

Raph continues to telegraph that he is not human by knowing far too much about a building he’s supposedly never been in.  They wander around, Raph disappears, Raph reappears, Clary remains clueless, and Jace finally stabs the guy.

Jace knew Raph was a vampire from the start, but…allowed him to come along anyway, turn his back to the guy, and put Clary in danger by not warning her?  What the fuck? 

The rest of the vampires show up.  Raph isn’t dead, just stabbed, and Clary suggests they use Raph as a hostage to get out of there.  Finally, we’re halfway through the book and our main fucking character actually contributes something.  It’s pretty weak, but at least it’s something.  (Really, how hard is it to plan to use the wounded guy at your feet as a hostage/shield?)

Clary wondered if there were any ugly vampires, or maybe any fat ones. Maybe they didn’t make vampires out of ugly people. Or maybe ugly people just didn’t want to live forever.

Or maybe ugly people just didn’t want to live forever.  Or maybe you can just go to hell.  No, really, fuck yourself and go to hell.  I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so disgusted by a single line of text in my entire life.  It usually takes at least a paragraph to generate this level of hate.

Clary proposes a trade: Raph for Simon.  Raph turns out to be their leader, so they consider it, but they want assurance that they won’t be double-crossed.  Clary says they’ll swear to it, which it turns out is a big deal.

Clary took the opportunity to whisper to Jace. “Just swear! What can it hurt?”

“Swearing for us isn’t like it is for you mundanes,” he snapped back angrily. “I’ll be bound forever to any oath I make.”

“Oh, yeah? What would happen if you broke it?”

Ooooookay, so what’s the problem?  Swear that you won’t kill Raph as long as they give you Simon.  I really don’t see the problem here.  The only reason this could be a big deal is if Jace was already planning to renege on the deal.  Otherwise, he’s just promising to do what he was already going to do anyway.  Why is it now a huge deal that he doesn’t have the option of being a lying, cheating asshole?

“Lily is right,” said Jacob. “An oath is required. Swear that you won’t hurt Raphael. Even if we give you the rat back.”

Oh, okay.  That’s a little different.  Just don’t swear to that, swear to the fair trade.  Which probably would have gone over fine if you hadn’t stopped to argue about it and pissed them off.

They argue about who’s going to swear first, and then Raph starts talking about how Valentine is coming back and soon they won’t have to abide by niceties, they can just fight each other outright.  Um…Raph, why are you so happy sounding about this?  Valentine’s end-game is to see all the fairies dead as doornails.  This should not be viewed as a good thing.

In the middle of all this bickering, Clary just jumps and goes for Simon.  There’s a scuffle, in which Simon ends up biting Raph, everyone shoves a lot, none of the vampires thing to just fucking bite someone, and the three ‘good’ guys get surrounded.  Despite the fact that they are literally facing down a wall of homicidal vampires THEY STILL FUCKING BANTER.  This is not the time!

I love/hate how the vampires stand politely by until they’re done talking.

She didn’t know how to use a knife. She’d never hit anyone, let alone stabbed them. She’d even skipped gym class the day they’d learned how to ward off muggers and rapists with ordinary objects like car keys and pencils.

Shit, really?  Gym classes teach you how to stab people with pencils?  All we ever did at my school was play dodgeball.  (Muggers beware.  I am deadly with a dodgeball.)

Suddenly: werewolves!  The crash the party just in time for the chapter to end.