Stephenie Meyer released her sci-fi novel The Host in 2008, right as soccer moms were waiting in line for the latest Twilight book and Kristen Stewart was biting her lip for the first time on the big screen. Though Twihards eagerly devoured this new work from their favorite author, the rest of us likely knew little about her literary detour until the release of the movie adaptation, written and directed by Andrew Niccol.
Unfortunately, The Host still possesses all the earmarks of a Meyer novel—a heroine you can’t quite root for, an even weirder love triangle—without the self-referential snark of the movies. It’s so painfully earnest, yet will never rank on the list of definitive sci-fi.
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