You know what hope is? Hope is a bastard. Hope is a liar, a cheat, and a steal. Hope comes near you. Kick it’s backside. Got no place in days like these.
– Ben Folds, “Picture Window.”
Toy Story 3 should’ve taught me not to let my expectations rise too far. I fully expected to exit the theater with a new favorite movie. Not surprisingly, it failed to even come close to the first two, both of which reside permanently in my top twenty. Inspired by that as of yet unparalleled feeling of disappointment, I’ve attempted to stop my hopes and expectations from clouding things up to too great of a degree, to enter into each movie, book, etc. with an open mind ready to be swayed in whichever direction it wishes to take me.
Clearly, though, I’m not always up to task, as you can tell from my reaction to The Fall and, now, to The Night Eternal. Between reading The Strain and its sequel, The Fall, I lost all memory of the warning signs I’d highlighted in my review of The Strain, then was shocked to see them reach their next level of progression in The Fall, which is to say they, like the Master, began to spread like the parasites they were. Hindsight tells me it was inevitable. The Strain was no more fit for a trilogy than The Hobbit. Each can only be stretched so far, making filler a necessity, as something has to patch over the resulting cracks in the foundation.
I recognized the story’s limitations from the start. Wondered aloud how there could be two more books worth left in it. And, as much as I wish I could say that it made me cautious of The Fall, it didn’t. Nor did the harshly negative reviews that cropped up in greater numbers for The Fall. I saw only the promise the first book presented, not thinking they’d renege on the unwritten agreement that promise seemed to make with me, the reader, that they would act (and build) upon it. Continue reading