PRE-RANT WARNING: First and foremost, it's important to note that the overarching genre of this tale is a blend of fantasy and sci-fi apocalypse. If this isn't your cup of tea, I kindly suggest you save your precious time and venture elsewhere. Additionally, the story draws heavily from Korean culture, which may initially give pause, but those who embrace these cultural elements will find themselves savouring each passing word with increasing appreciation. Note: I've also streamlined this review, improving flow and removing excess. I should've mentioned that the following is dedicated, and a love letter to, ORV, its readers and its writers. Thank you.
As we
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embark on the quest to identify the paragon(s) of artistic expression, we are inevitably confronted with a fundamental paradox: the perennial tension between subjectivity and objectivity. The former is a divergent offshoot of the latter, while the latter is formed from countless fragments of the former. It's absurd, isn't it? To not be able to read this for the first time again is one of my many uncontrollable regrets. A novel that shatters genre conventions and elevates literary excellence to dizzying new heights that are rarely seen. What more could a discerning reader ask for than a story that seizes you, captivates your imagination, and takes you on an emotionally charged odyssey that is both gripping and heart-rending? And all the while seamlessly blending all genres of entertainment. It shouldn't seem real, yet it exists, cover-to-cover, as Sing n' Song's magnum opus, Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint (ORV). A true avatar of artistry, suggestiveness, intellectual and spiritual depth, universality, and style that merges objective and subjective viewpoints to forge my, and many others, perfect story.
In the initial chapters of the novel, while not inherently lacklustre, there is a certain absence of distinctiveness that sets it apart from its literary counterparts. The narrative submerges readers into what appears to be Universe No. 1,864, complete with systems, deities, and abilities. A weariness may wash over you as you anticipate yet another banal, formulaic web novel, hastily crafted with a carbon-copy premise. You may sigh at the sight of, what seems to be, even more fantasy garbage that'll poison your eyes with the same eight troupes that've infected the genre, as you bore holes into your monitor wondering if you've wasted your precious time. However, it's paramount you persist beyond these opening chapters, for it's through this foundation that the story's critical turning points are unveiled & understood, revealing their relevance to the characters and the resonant emotions they elicit. This opening act, encompassing the entirety of the first volume, not only acts as a catalyst for the story's trajectory but also provides a sturdy bedrock that propels numerous narrative branches throughout the arcs of the novel. Each of these branches is executed with meticulous beauty and precision, guiding our characters towards their "destined purposes" in this vividly realised world while evoking a myriad of emotions that culminate in resplendent finales.
Whilst tedious meandering of the plot can swiftly grow tiresome, ORV masterfully navigates these deviations, utilising them to unveil profound revelations that challenge readers' understanding of the intricately crafted world. While the storytelling may appear linear initially, rest assured, you will soon discover it is a thrilling roller-coaster ride. This multi-faceted intricacy extends to the novel's supporting cast - nuanced, fully-realised characters, each possessing their unique perspectives, morals, and ideologies that shift and evolve as they navigate the ebb and flow of life's challenges. These characters gradually transform from vessels advancing the plot of both Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse (TWSA) and ORV into genuine individuals with whom readers (referring to both Kim Dok-Ja and us) develop a deep and heartfelt connection. A prerequisite of which, is the delicate interweaving of fragile themes and motifs - time paradoxes, salvation, grief, free will, depression, suffering, and more - serves to deepen the readers' relationship with these characters, transcending the boundaries of fiction and resonating as extensions of the human experience. Such depth is a breath of fresh air amidst the sea of one-dimensional caricatures that often plague modern literature and entertainment.
Furthermore, deviation from mythos and alternative narrative routes make ORV thrillingly unique, while also providing a familiar touchstone. Rather than discarding everything you know about ancient mythology, I invite you to approach it with an open mind and envision the clash of Sun Wukong against the Ennead - an audacious amalgamation that defies both logic and expectation. It's within this delicate balance between the extraordinary and the recognisable that ORV finds its strength, rewarding readers with tales that gradually unfurl, germinating from seeds sown in the earliest moments and blossoming in magnificent splendour as the narrative unfolds. This isn't even mentioning how the author plays an eccentric alchemist, mixing and matching different elements of hard and soft worldbuilding that results in a wonderfully addicting concoction that pressures your desire to learn further about the world ORV's characters traverse (assuming, of course, you are still around to witness its conclusion.)
Perhaps the most idiosyncratic facet of ORV lies within its meta-narrative - an exploration of storytelling itself, the intricate dance between reader expectations, and the mesmerising interplay among a reader, a protagonist, and a writer. It elevates an already rich and engaging story by injecting intellectual and philosophical contemplation about our agency through the characters, thereby nudging us to question the power that stories hold in shaping our perceptions of the world and ourselves. The boundaries between reality and fiction blur as Sing n' Song probes at the principles by which we relate to both individuals and our surroundings, thus provoking questions such as "Are they mere characters or genuine individuals?" and "When does the realm of the novel intersect with our reality and how can we reconcile the two?" This seamless integration of narrative structure and thematic exploration stands as a testament to the author's commanding prowess, casting a beguiling spell over the readers' consciousness.
With a staggering 551 chapters and a formidable word count of 1.3 million, ORV presents a weighty journey - but one that promises immeasurable rewards. It stands as a masterpiece, transcending the confines of contemporary literature and offering a once-in-a-lifetime experience. It irreversibly alters one's perception of the written word, reshaping notions of what great writing can achieve, and instilling a newfound appreciation for its unparalleled influence. It's not a mere novel but a transformative encounter, an awakening to the boundless possibilities inherent in the art of writing. A story that stretches into eternity, culminating in the final words of the epilogue, leaving the reader in a state of catharsis - an experience that reverberates throughout the entirety of the novel.
While this review may seem - um, excessive, scarily so even, please acknowledge that amid fervent admiration, personal qualms persist. One notable aspect deserving attention revolves around the character of Yu Jung-Hyeok, whose subtle progression throughout the story may not become apparent until the latter stages of the novel, unfolding at a deliberately measured pace (an issue that echoes itself in its story writing as well) that may at times induce a sense of stagnation. However, let's consider the analogy of self-perception: When one sees oneself every day, change often eludes notice, and one may perceive oneself as static. Yet, when encountered by someone who has not witnessed the journey first-hand, they discern the transformative growth that has taken place. In the case of this sunfish, the realisation dawns upon the reader in the final 20% of the novel, leaving a bittersweet aftertaste. Before this critical juncture, the remaining characters possess an inherent humanity, while Jung-Hyeok seems relegated to the role of a mere plot device, creating an unusual dynamic that fosters a sense of detachment. On the subject of obstacles, I'd like to address the elephant in the room, that being the way the author approaches the metanarrative. Almost everything is for the sake of the metanarrative, or has relevance to it on some level. For a novel of this nature, I adored it, but I can identify the problem of events occurring or dialogue being spoken which will not have relevance until much later in the story. Normally this would be acceptable, even commendable when foreshadowed well, but readers may note that it honestly happens so often that they may forget WHAT happened/was said, or WHY it transpired to begin with, causing confusion. One might be irritated if they were not able to connect with something previously due to missing context, which was only delivered now. I believe this manner of writing, where decisions/selections driven by the larger metanarrative framework only gain significance once the complete metanarrative emerges, is a charm of ORV rather than a cause for concern. After all, they are simply prevalent revelations that are employed after build-up ensues, just implemented with an slightly acquired taste of a twist. If nothing else, it ardently highlights that every detail in the novel matters! However, I do sympathise with readers who may feel their emotional investment wavered because of it. Nonetheless, of equal importance lies ORV's deconstructive narrative which, once again, employs a deliberately measured pace, as well as demanding a suspension of disbelief to fully appreciate its sublime execution: an example being parts of volumes 3 & 4, which I won't delve into, but readers may note they're, arguably, unnecessarily tedious - but this, in my opinion, does not subvert its brilliance. I could elaborate further on the illusion of stakes, the clichéd elements that leave much to be desired, the stagnant growth of both the supporting cast, including the villains, and missed opportunities with their characters, etc, but it's time to wrap up this review, just note that there are glaring faults staining the page.
While certain peculiarities may require temporary disregard, and seemingly convenient plot devices may test one's resolve, they are all necessary to comprehend the cohesive nature of the epilogue - 80% of which is meticulously spoon-fed. So why describe it as perfect? Despite its irony, or maybe all because of it, we as readers bear the responsibility of opening our third eye and investing our imaginations into the very essence of this extraordinary narrative and thus in doing so, are granted the privilege of forging our own perfect story.
This might come across as somewhat of a lazy explanation, but I'm at a loss for any other words to convey my point. If you're struggling to grasp this perspective, you could perhaps pay a visit to the same set of words I encountered two summers ago. Funny isn't it? My review concludes with a suggestion to delve into the story to comprehend the review, which should be convincing you to read the story. It possesses a certain poetic flair, wouldn't you agree? Or not, and I'm merely chasing after elusive literary ghosts. I can't say for certain, as I find myself confined to the role of the review's author rather than its reader.
Regardless, I hope this review serves as the spark in igniting the inner writer within you; let it inspire you to read up on the sentences you have long yearned to write. Though maybe not now, perhaps someday you will find solace in the embrace of ORV, allowing its world to unfold before your eyes, just as another novel with 3,149 chapters is for another reader for whom the story is perfectly crafted.
Aug 2, 2022
Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint
(Manga)
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Recommended Well-written  Preliminary
(Unknown/105 chp)
PRE-RANT WARNING: First and foremost, it's important to note that the overarching genre of this tale is a blend of fantasy and sci-fi apocalypse. If this isn't your cup of tea, I kindly suggest you save your precious time and venture elsewhere. Additionally, the story draws heavily from Korean culture, which may initially give pause, but those who embrace these cultural elements will find themselves savouring each passing word with increasing appreciation. Note: I've also streamlined this review, improving flow and removing excess. I should've mentioned that the following is dedicated, and a love letter to, ORV, its readers and its writers. Thank you.
As we ... |
