Blue

Hovering around a 3.75-4 stars for me.

I listened to the entirety of this audiobook while driving for work. This was another one I went into without reading anything about it except for the blurb. I am stealing and reusing one of my own descriptors that I made in my review of The Last Days of New Paris, but I feel like it describes what I felt when listening to this book as well. I felt this story wasn't as much of a narrative as much as it was an experience.

Going into the book, here is what I knew: two time-traveling agents working for different organizations wage war on each other throughout time. Though the two are enemies, they eventually fall in love. That's all the context I had, and it colored what I was expecting. I thought it would be a more traditional plot-driven book since that tends to be the trend with science fiction books. This wasn't it at all. In fact, it even led me to be a little disappointed at first.

It took me a while to get into the feel of the book. I feel like the main focus of it is the language. The letters written by Red and Blue (and even the prose itself to an extent) are filled with some of the most lyrical, abstract, and poetic writing I've ever heard. Metaphors, similies and craftsmanship with the English language fill their letters, like they are both composing music or sonnets. After getting used to this playing and building of language, I started to click with the book and immerse myself in it more. I believe listening to the book versus reading it might have helped with that. It helped the flow of the words feel more natural. It's very unique in that I can't think of another novel I've read that has this same kind of priority on language. There have been others that I've read that felt more like experiences, perhaps in the setting or by just exploring something, but this is the first I've read where the prose itself is what the reader is meant to immerse themselves the most in.

The setting also takes a setting seen in many different media--time traveling--and gives it a unique spin. In fact, I'd say this story is almost borderline weird fiction with how surreal it can get. The main characters are humans, but they stretch the definition of it by all of their enhancements, all to help them better fight their time-traveling war. The way they pass letters onto each other is... unconventional, to say the least. I don't want to say more because I think reading about them is part of the experience of reading this.

It's hard to talk about the characters because their development is not focused on very much. I can't really criticize the relationship not feeling like a natural progression or the two having chemistry because it's hard to quantify those things when all of their interactions are done through these letters filled to the brim with purple prose. But I was surprised, at the end, to find myself invested in their relationship and hoping that everything worked out. Maybe it was the dramatic, creative ways they communicated with one another? While I didn't feel there was much under the surface (even with the backstories they revealed about themselves, I'm the kind of person who feels more impacted when the characters have things happen to them as opposed to them talking of things that have happened to them in the past and seeing the aftermath), this isn't the kind of story that comes across as having that be a priority. I think when an author (or authors) write stories a certain way to make it clear what purpose they have in writing it, it's easier for me to not be so bothered by the lackluster aspects of it.

My biggest complaint? I've already gone over how beautiful and poetic the writing can be, especially in the letters that Blue and Red write to one another. I think sometimes it gets to be a bit too...much. Obviously, this isn't a case where you expect their letters to sound natural and like something most people would write. It's part of the experience, like I said above. But, in all honesty? Even with that in mind, sometimes it gets to be a little ridiculous at points. I guess it's a lucky thing that I listened to this through an audiobook because it means I can't reference it to paste quotes. Otherwise, this review would be filled with the most ridiculous ones. Holding coins under your tongue? An entire paragraph describing eating blueberry pancakes and honey in the most flowery, purple prose imaginable? A dramatic description of a character being locked in a glass coffin with no "necrophilic prince?" I'll be honest, I think even the most delicate and beautiful writing can't really cover up the silliness of such things, and only works to highlight it even more. That's the main reason why I hesitate to give it a full four stars so readily.

But despite the initially bumpy ride, things smoothed out as time went on, and I found myself enjoying it. If you're looking for a traditional story, I don't think this will do it for you. If you're okay with experiencing a story through its writing and take joy just in the act of listening to poetic prose, you will enjoy this. I recommend the audiobook. The narrators do a great job with their respective parts, and it helps better to let the words flow over you.

Maybe my rating for this is closer to 3.75/5.

There are two types of readers: those who research a book before they read it and those who go into it blind. Well, I guess some people read books and then read notes during it. Okay, maybe this note wasn't as strong as I thought it was to start on. My whole point is these are the decisions one can make when diving into The Last Days of New Paris by China Miéville.

I am familiar with Miéville from his novel, Perdido Street Station, which is one of my favorites. After getting through that one, I immediately looked up his bibliography to see what more of his works I could experience. I read the synopsis of this particular one and decided, heck yeah, I am going to read this one next. The surrealism and imagery of Miéville's prose were some of my favorite things in Perdido Street Station, so I was looking forward to it.

Reading this was certainly an...experience. One that I feel like I enjoyed for the most part.

The premise is already attention-grabbing. Paris has changed: after the detonation of a bomb with extraordinary powers, the city is overrun now. Nazis still occupy the city, but alongside them, artwork from surreal artists have been given life. Creatures of frightening imagination, referred to by manifs, beyond what true reality could ever host roam the streets amid the fighting. The landscape itself has changed to this beautiful and nightmarish surrealism. On top of that, demons from Hell have joined the fray. Yeah, it's a wild time.

The plot follows two storylines: one set in "present-day" with a soldier known as Thibault fighting against the Nazis and demons while surviving the odd manifs. He meets a woman named Sam, and he helps her on her journey to find a certain something for a book she's writing. The other timeline centers around a man named Jack Parson and focuses on how this dream-esque situation.

I can tell you right now that I don't have any knowledge of art and history that goes beyond the level of basic, which made reading this an interesting experience. I didn't do any research or look up any context notes before diving in. There are references up the wazoo, and I mean it. Unless you have a major in Surrealism Art and History, I feel like many of the references will fly straight over your head. That's at least how it happened to me. Countless names were dropped and I had no clue where I had no clue what its real-world equivalent was.

I will say, for many people, this will probably turn them off. If not that, then the poetic, flowery prose and purposefully obscured narrative will. This is a book I imagine will appeal only to a niche audience.

I guess I am in that audience.

Even if I didn't understand anything, the way that Miéville described it was beautiful. Where my lack of knowledge spanned, I used Miéville's descriptions to fill in the blanks and conjure up an image as much as I could. He would describe a manif to the reader in all its surreal glory, and I would have to try and understand what it looked like from my understanding, I feel like it did something to paint an even more vivid picture for me, as strange as that sounds. It gave me a workout for my imagination as I did my best to imagine what these things could even look like in real life if they were standing right before me.

Miéville's prose is poetic and beautiful, but hard to understand. He is the kind of author where you have to have a dictionary open next to you (thank god for Libby's define feature) to understand many of the words he throws out. He uses haunting imagery in such an evocative way. Describing surrealism is something that I imagine is very, very hard to do. How do you describe something that doesn't conform to any of our laws of physics, that goes beyond all the rules that we hold dear? It's an incredible feat to pull off, and I think Miéville does it well. He has just the right balance of grounded descriptions and dreamy imagery to put it all together. I'm still thinking about his line where he describes the moon in the sky. I think it's one of the more popular quotes in the book.

The plot itself? While it felt it meandered in the middle, I was hooked enough by the imagery and the description of this gutted, strange Paris that I didn't mind. It's equal amounts of experience and story, in my opinion. Like many books (I'm noting this seems to be a trend), it ramped up in the last 20-30% where stakes skyrocketed, and it really pushed me towards the end.

There is a final section in the book that I don't want to get too far into since it might be spoiler activity, but it's a very interesting whiplash and almost like a food-for-thought kind of deal going on with how it bookends the story. I'll be honest, my interest waned here...I came here for surreal imagery mixed with the mundane, one of my favorite contrasts to see in art, and that's where my interest mostly lies. But I don't want to say I didn't care for it or that I disliked it, as I think it's a valuable part of the overall content.

My biggest complaint: As much as I liked this book, I didn't rate it 4 stars and it falls short of Miéville's great Perdido Street Station because, even though I understand this was the vibe he was going for, the narrative at times felt too muddled from the story. I get it, in a story about surrealism, the prose should reflect that theme. And I think it does greatly in some ways! But in others, I feel like it made it harder for me to follow along. It made it that much harder to connect with the characters, but like I said, I think this is a book that's not trying to emphasize those parts. It really feels like it's mostly here to give a reader an experience of the world and how the people are affected by it, which I say it did pretty well. It's too bad, I just felt a little too detached from the story and characters themselves to feel any impact from them, which in turn, causes me the entire book to have less impact on me since they're aspects of the story too.

Even if I don't like it as much as Perdido Street Station. it was still a good book and I enjoyed it. I fall very much into the niche of who this book appeals to. I love surreal imagery, and I love it even more when it's placed into the space of the mundane, and we humans are left grappling with the paradoxical contrast. I feel like for many, this book is not going to hit the mark. But for those who vibe on the same wavelength as this novel, we got something out of it.

🎵 Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. 🎵

I was doing a marathon of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, and when I got to On Stranger Tides, I was surprised to learn that it was based on a book--<i>this</i> book.

I actually haven’t heard of this novel, even though it’s a classic and winner of multiple awards. It’s inspired more than Pirates of the Caribbean; the classic point-and-click games from Lucasfilm, Monkey Island, were also inspired by Tim Powers’ fantasy story (according to Wikipedia, at least). After learning about this, I wanted to read it first before watching the movie. I didn’t know what to expect, to be honest. The only thing I knew about the story inside was what the official blurb told me. A complete blind dive into this book.

It was a delight through and through!

I was expecting a fun and solid adventure, and that's what I got! I didn't expect to be so enthralled with the adventure and even with the characters. I mean, some parts even got me a little emotional, and I was so surprised when it happened. It was a case of where I didn't even see it coming. I was listening to the story on the audiobook, nodding along and thinking "yes, this is all quite interesting. This is pretty fun to listen to." I wasn't expecting to get as emotionally invested as I did. Until the very last seconds of the book, I was on the edge of my seat and listening intently, begging and hoping that Jack and Beth would make it out okay.

The story has a great progression; it started as what you'd expect for a typical sea-faring excursion and then ramped it up with fantastical elements. I saw the skeleton pirate on the front of the first edition cover and was intrigued. When the heck does that come into play in this book, which seems like a jaunty old tale of a crew of misfits sailing the seven seas? And then when it did start happening...how exhilarating! The atmosphere, the tension, it all made for excellent listening. This book has all the great aspects of a good adventure story: action, thrills, a helping of magic, and a dash of romance.

I very much respect Powers' prose, too. His imagery was excellent; even listening to it painted such vivid pictures for me. The scene in the jungle...I won't say any more, but one of my favorite parts of the story. Incredibly chilling, creeped me out at certain points.

I have a huge soft spot for anything with a touch of whimsy in it, and On Stranger Tides is no exception. My favorite part is that there are a couple of points in the story that are borderline ridiculous, but because Powers still gives them weight, they don't come off as contrived or something made for simply a throwaway gag. There's a part with some puppet strings and an old magician...once again, I will not spoil it. But if you know, you know. It was equal parts hilarious and exciting.

Overall, the book is the hallmark of a classic adventure. I can see why it's been seen as a significant source of inspiration. "Fun" describes this book perfectly, in my opinion. If I have any complaints, it's that I do wish we learned a bit more about Elizabeth Hurwood, to get the same kind of devotion towards her that Jack does. There are things to admire about her, but in a book where a lot of characters get the chance to open up about their backgrounds, Beth was conspicuously blank to me. Admittedly, there are things in this book that I think haven't aged well. Some of the descriptors of the black characters in the book were a little weird. They're not outwardly malicious, and I would hesitate to say outright racist. With a little acknowledgment and introspection, it doesn't detract too much. Perhaps you could make the argument that because this book is set in the 1700s, it reflects the attitudes of the people during those days. And honestly, none of the black characters from what I remember are outright slaves and tend to be treated as equals to everyone else (if made fun of, but once again, they're not the only ones). One of these black characters I found to be a compelling character in his own right, and for a book set in the 1700s, I think that's neat!

Honestly, my biggest complaint comes from the audiobook reading of it. It was mostly fine, but some of the voices that the narrator did were very grating. Sure, it was immersive, but having to hear a screechy falsetto or hearing him anytime Shanks spoke wasn't a pleasant listening experience.

But a very, very fun book. Now, I'm a little sad. I feel like I made a mistake reading this book before watching the corresponding Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I'm sure I'll like the book much more and the movie much less.

"Worlds. The whole damn sky full of worlds. Places no one will ever see. Except me."

----------------

Discworld is perhaps one of the most highly acclaimed fantasy series ever written. All I've ever read about this book from other readers has been the highest praise. People constantly rank the books among their all-time favorites. As a longtime lover of fantasy, this of course meant I had to put it on my own list.

But for the longest time, I was so horribly intimidated to actually start reading Discworld.

I am always wary when I gain an interest in consuming any piece of media that is critically acclaimed on the level that Discworld is at because then your standards are set so infinitely high that it's almost an unfair advantage against it. There have been too many times in my life where I've ended up ultimately disappointed in something highly reviewed because reviews for it were glowing and it ended up falling short of my expectations. I mean, when people say something is "incredible," "amazing," or "perfect," it's hard not to go in expecting something to blow your mind. And to be fair, I know with certain pieces of my favorite media, I think of them in the same above-and-beyond terms that I'm sure would turn others off if they were to read it themselves. It's just a part of being passionate about something, but it does dull the experience of some things for someone like me who comes into it at a much later date.

Along with that consideration, Discworld is one of those series that people like to tell you not to start with the actual first book, and everybody has different recommendations on where to start. Full disclosure, this is one of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to any piece of media. I hate the idea of starting in the middle of something. I like going in order. It just feels good and right to me. Not to mention, nothing frustrates me more than when I feel like I'm missing out on some piece of exposition because I skipped a couple of entries. Even if that isn't an issue, the idea that I could be missing out on the satisfaction of watching how things developed and seeing the natural progression of how both the story and even the authors themselves have changed throughout the series also bums me out. Not to mention...nine out of ten times when someone says "Don't worry, you don't need to see the other ones to understand what's going on," it's a flat-out lie. Experience is a merciless teacher, and this has been one of her lessons to me.

But, I still felt like I was missing out on something by not reading Discworld. It just sounds so...fun and filled with whimsy. Those tend to be my favorite stories. I carefully tempered my expectations; I've heard before that Color of Magic should be considered more of a prologue to the saga of Discworld. I was also intrigued by the fact that Color of Magic looked to be a shorter story with a more fun and casual experience meant for the reader. I feel like those kinds of fantasy stories aren't very popular nowadays.

I'm happy to say it was a very pleasant experience throughout, even with my expectations purposefully lowered!

Color of Magic introduces us to the world of Discworld: a very unique setting where the world is a flat disc balanced atop four giant elephants who are in turn balanced atop a giant turtle swimming throughout the vastness of the cosmos. Like I said, very unique. Within Discworld exists extraordinary locales with equally extraordinary people and their cultures, great and powerful magic of all sorts that is a part of the very fabric of reality itself, and zany characters. The basic premise as introduced in the beginning pages of the book is that a group of scholars want to find a way to lower themselves past the edge of the rim of the world to see what sex the giant turtle is.

...But the focus of the story is on a wizard named Rincewind. What does Rincewind desire in life? He just wants to live a safe, comfortable, normal existence with a respectable amount of coin. Very relatable, but Fate has other plans in store for the wizard. Rincewind runs afoul of a strange man named Twoflower. He likes to travel to different places and capture scenes straight from light with his odd camera box that dangles from his neck. An odd chest filled with odds and ends such as clothes follows him around on many pairs of legs, and he calls himself a word that is unfamiliar to those in Discworld...something called a tourist.

And thus begins their adventure in the magical, whimsical world.

This was a fun book to read. Quite a delightful experience! I loved the mix of flowery, poetic prose grounded with lots of humanistic humor throughout. The premise, as described above, is just so much fun. It almost reads like a Dungeons and Dragon campaign with a group of quirky, fun-to-read-about protagonists going through different encounters and meeting all sorts of zany characters. The humor is written so well into the story and characters. How the situations are described and how the characters react to them is hilariously done. The fact that you have this high fantasy setting but the main characters, Rincewind and Twoflower, react to them in completely different but equally hilarious ways was so fun to read about. In fact, I'd say that Color of Magic is borderline absurdist with how wacky the setting could get but so many of its inhabitants are just so blasé about the whole thing.

The worldbuilding is legitimately very unique and fascinating to read about. There's not another world out there like the one Sir Pratchett has crafted here. And while some of the setting does feel like a tool to highlight the humor of the writing in the contrast it has to its relatively grounded character reactions, it never felt like it crossed that line too much. It never got so ridiculous and the reactions to the settings never got so downplayed that the whole of Discworld feels like a joke. While the initial setup is ludicrous--I mean, it is a flat disc on top of a bunch of elephants on top of a giant turtle--the writing never loses the sense of awe and wonder in the world. There's still some weight to the setting and describing it. With humor, I find it's very easy to go too far in one direction and make everything silly and thus feel kind of pointless, but Discworld has the right amount of balanced seriousness to make things still significant. I loved reading about the reality-warping aspects of magic, the weirdness inherent in it, and the quirks it causes to the world. Discworld has some cool rainbows (or Rimbows, I suppose).

Rincewind and Twoflower have become some of my favorite fictional characters after reading this. Rincewind, despite being a literal wizard, is by far one of the most relatable protagonists I've ever read about. He's down-to-earth. He's got a pessimistic streak. He wants to get through another day without having a near-death experience. The dude is tired of adventuring. Twoflower is his opposite, the epitome of an ignorant tourist. But instead of taking photos with his flash on in Paris, he's doing it in a place where there are literal dragons, trolls, and dryads. He's optimism incarnate, never bothered by anything in life, and always eager to see the next dangerous thing because it's something he needs to take a photo of. The "pessimist versus optimist" dynamic is one of the most common in fiction, but here, it's entertaining and written well and without enough of its own unique quirks to make it stand out with its own identity. They're the perfect kinds of characters you want to put through all sorts of crazy scenarios just to see how they'll react and get out of it.

One thing that gets me about Color of Magic is that it's perfectly balanced in how it executes the premise. It's humorous without being too lighthearted and thus losing any actual weight the story has. The prose switches from beautifully poetic to quipped in a very natural way that doesn't feel jarring. So many times, I see where an author has gone too much on one side and the book loses its effectiveness.

But now that I've done its praises, it's time to go onto what I didn't quite like about the book...Rincewind and Twoflower are the only characters that are really of any significance. Others get introduced that I kept thinking would have some kind of relevance to the story since they take a bit of the spotlight during portions of the book, but then it turns out to not be the case. I guess it is like a Dungeons and Dragons campaign in that way. You'll have temporary party members who look like they're gearing up to be of some value before the DM decides that it's time to move on and whisks the players away.

I don't consider this a spoiler since it happens at the beginning of the book: a meta-feature that occurs within the first few chapters is that there's a random footnote that acts as an add-on to the narrative going on. This happens once in the book to my recollection and just seemed...odd? Where everything else is so well-balanced and crafted, this one felt like a strange outlier to me. Perhaps it's supposed to be some kind of foreshadowing in future books, but I am one of those readers who really does not like it when books feel too much like extensions of each other. Each book in a series should feel self-contained enough that it's a solid piece of work when standing on its own merits. Some narrative tangents also felt too much like they meandered from the story and it left me a bit confused, but I guess it was an excuse to read more of Pratchett's excellent prose.

And then my usual complaint of "abrupt cliffhanger ending." I get it, it's part of a series and it is supposed to drive me to want to purchase the next book in the series (which honestly, I do want to). It's a case of me not liking books that feel like they end in the middle of something or very suddenly of out nowhere. I like books with a more natural-feeling ending. I guess that's just me, though.

If you are looking for a sprawling fantasy epic with story arcs and deep, involved character development, you've come to the wrong place. This is a short and sweet fun adventure in a unique setting with whimsy and wonder weaved into it. It was very refreshing to me for that reason...but also a very expertly crafted story and a fun adventure. I had a good time reading this book, and I do want to continue the series. I don't regret starting here instead of jumping ahead like a lot of people suggest. All-in-all, lots of fun to be had and I look forward to diving deeper into Discworld!

Final note: Rincewind is a bloke who'd I love to have a pint with.

3.75/5

Please note this book covers some very triggering topics, including but not limited to LGBTQ+ discrimination, sexual assault, rape, abuse, and conversion therapy.

This is more of an expression of my thoughts than an actual review.

This is definitely not the kind of book that I usually read. I read it on a whim; it was part of a fiction sampler I was reading, and I kept becoming curious about what happened next.

I feel like I mostly suffer from not being the kind of person who usually reads these kinds of books? It's a coming-of-age story about a boy struggling with his sexuality and feminity in 1990s India, where LGBTQ+ behavior is outlawed. It details the main character growing up with their family, going through boarding school, joining the circus, and falling in love with another man. I don't consider this plot outline too much of a spoiler, because for these kinds of books, these kinds of settings are only a small portion of the story. The real meat of the story is the trials and tribulations of the main character, his emotional trauma, and his journey throughout. There are a lot of events in the book that seem more symbolic than anything else.

This is an emotionally heavy book, and some parts affected me heavily, especially regarding his family relationships. There were a few parts that I skimmed when I began to get bored of it when it seemed too repetitive with what the conflict was. But the parts that got me hooked (will not say due to spoilers) kept me going. This wasn't a book I wanted to put down or considered leaving unfinished when I got to the parts that hooked me and kept my interest. And I feel like a book that has me thinking about it and considering it after I've finished and put it down has done a good job of making an impression on me.

The reason it's not a full 4 stars is mostly due to some repetitive parts where I was losing some of my interest. Some of the narrative threads felt like they wandered a bit to me with not a lot of connection, almost like a train of thought that kind of goes on without being reigned in. It wasn't a steady ride throughout my reading of it; I had highs and lows as I was going through it. But it's an emotionally devastating book, equal parts tragic and beautiful, and I'm glad I took the random chance to read it.

I've been to a government building thrice within two weeks, in which I have waited a total of seven hours. In those seven hours, I read this book. I am starting with this information since I feel it gives a bit of context to my review. I don't usually read books like this and this was shelved in my “maybe want to read” pile. I checked it out after seeing it was available since I'm currently waiting on hopes for three books I want to read. I wasn't sure if I was really going to read it, though. I would meander through the first couple of pages to see what was going on before I drifted off.

And then I was stuck waiting. With this particular building stuck in the middle of dead spot, so no WiFi. All I had was this book that has already been downloaded offline.

It's hard for me to make an objective review since this book just isn't really what I typically check out. I wanted to do something out of my comfort zone, and this sounded pretty interesting. A sort of “slice-of-life” book about a woman moving to the Philippines after an impending divorce and staying with her great aunt, who lives and aristocratic lifestyle. There is an undercurrent story of the main character, Christina (often called Ting) is trying to finish a book centered around the subject of an indigenous chef and his people who were taken in order to be part of a touring “human zoo.” Both of these things are the small bits of Ting's life that makes up the whole of her experience. The story is really an exploration of Filipino culture under a harsh presidential regime as seen through Ting's daily life; through her relationships, through the setting, and through Filipino history.

There's not really a driving plot force, which isn't what I'm used to. This is a heavily character-driven book, where we experience life alongside Ting. I didn't find it overly boring, though, like I do sometimes with these kinds of books. There were a couple of places where I began to skim, but never for too long. I wasn't skipping entire chapters or anything like that. My favorite parts of the book were the descriptions of the setting and the food. It really did feel like an authentic showing of Filipino culture. The passage I still remember in this book is the one about the flooded roads, where women took off their sandels in order to wade through the water. It just really stuck out to me, that imagery.

I find it hard to fault the book for the things I didn't like since a lot of it was really down to my own personal tastes. I do find the writing quirk of “characters have a conversation where neither really responds to the other and they just keep saying random, unrelated things” to be annoying regardless of genre. There were a lot of history exposition dumps, but I actually found them interesting to read so I didn't mind, but I do wonder if part of the motivation of writing this book was a chance for the author to flex their research that they've done rather then weave it seamlessly with the story.

My biggest complaint is really the ending. No spoilers, but the book really ramped up in the very last section and went into hyperdrive before ending extremely abruptly. It was one of those endings that gave me whiplash for how hard and fast it went. I really don't get the reasoning behind that. I suppose it was meant to be some kind of slow burn, which in retrospect, I can see and think wasn't too ineffective, but my least favorite endings are the abrupt ones.

That's pretty much all of my thoughts. Interesting book and even though it's different from what I usually read, I'm glad I took a chance and did. It was harsh, sometimes bleak, but the camaraderie of friends and family managed to shine through even the darkest of moments. That's an important lesson to take away.

I read one review of this book that said: “A very difficult read, but equally compelling.”

I have to agree.

I don't even know how I came across this book or how it ended up being checked out on my Libby app. I think it was a sample I compulsively downloaded, and then I couldn't stop reading it despite the tough subject matter.

It's hard for me to describe this book. I've heard it categorized as a thriller, which I think holds merit. It definitely has some thriller-esque properties to it. I feel like it's a book close in purpose to something like American Psycho (which I have never read but have heard about), where it's meant to act as a reflection of a dark part of society we don't want to acknowledge exists. It gave me the same kind of empty hedonistic pursuit. There's lots of drugs, sex, and partying in this book, but it's nothing glamorous. It's foul. Despite the difficult subject matter, the reason I kept going on was that I found the main conflict of the book between Kalu and Ahmed to be engaging enough to read on. The inner turmoil of the characters and how it reflected in their actions was intriguing to read.

I've read some people say that it sometimes feels like a laundry list of perversions in this book, which I have mixed feelings about. While I was reading, I never got any indication that the actions of the characters in the book were things to be celebrated. These were not characters you were supposed to admire. I admit, I get tired of hearing readers say that characters need to be “likable” or “relatable” to be good characters. It's something I strongly disagree with. Some of the most compelling books ever written feature the most unlikeable people ever to be crafted. These characters are not likable, in my opinion. Maybe some traits of them can be considered as such, and maybe they can be relatable, but for the most part, they aren't exactly heroes in a traditional sense. But their conflicts are still fascinating to read about because it's a reflection of the real world. People like this exist and make decisions like the ones these characters do in the book. Like I said before, it's simply a reflection of the real world.

The book does its best to wrap up everyone's conflict within one another so they're connected, and I feel it did with about 70% success rate. Aima's character arc seemed to have an unsatisfying and abrupt confusion. She was set up to seem like a major character, being the first character we are introduced to and have one-half of her conflict (her break-up with Kalu; not a spoiler since it's the very first chapter) act as a catalyst for the major event that drives a lot of the story. But it feels like right when her arc was getting ramped up, it dropped to focus on Kalu and Ahmed for 60% of the story before she comes back with a sudden conclusion. Focus in the latter half of the book felt like it was being put on other characters brought in late-game who suddenly felt like they commandeered the spotlight. In my opinion, the whole thing would have felt much less disjointed if the story perspectives were cut down to Aima, Kalu, and Ahmed, with the other characters being major secondary players.

Also, my usual complaint of the ending feeling very abrupt and unresolved. I feel like that's a complaint with 80% of the books that I read, so nothing to special there.

In the end, am I glad to have read this book? I mean, this is not the kind of book that brings you happiness. I feel like it has the same effect on me as Lolita by Vladimir Nobokov did. It was very hard to read, and it did not bring me any joy. This is not a book I read for enjoyment, but rather, for perspective. And despite the shortcomings in the book, I feel like perspective is always a valuable thing. Sometimes, we do need that mirror to be held up to our faces about the darker part of human living. I feel like Little Rot does a decent job of that.

Well, I finally have time to write about this book.

My rating of this book is closer to 3.5, maybe 3.75 at certain points (particularly the end).

I am honestly kind of surprised at how I felt about this book at the end. I've heard so many good things about The Murderbot Diaries. I mean, it won an award. That's something to be impressed by. I was hyped and ready to read this book and got excited when I rented the audiobook from my library. And then at the end, I was left with this weird feeling of shock.

This is definitely not a bad book. It's a good one! But I think my problem is that my expectations were too high and it didn't quite reach the levels I was expecting based on all the praises I've heard of it.

My main problem is with the narration and characters. Murderbot is a very intriguing character, at least at first. A robotic construct (the book describes it as a mixture of organic and robotic, so I always imagined it to be some kind of cyborg android type thing) that has disabled its governer module that controls its actions and thoughts. But instead of doing what you might expect and having the robot go on some kind of liberating adventure or taking revenge on its human oppressors, it simply pretends it is still under control while secretly watching TV shows and movies. I was hooked on that premise alone.

The problem is that Murderbot's narration is so detached and dry from everything. For a robot that's pretending to not be free-willed, Murderbot is surprisingly boring. The book is told from a first-person perspective from Murderbot's point-of-view, but because of Murderbot's nonchalant attitude towards almost everything that happens in the book, nothing feels like it has weight and as consequence, I started feeling detached from the story. Murderbot simply does what it needs to do while occasionally thinking “wow this is weird/i wish i was watching TV now.” Even in certain high-stakes situations, it feels like there's no emotion behind it. Murderbot will assess the situation and then dryly recount what it did or said. There's no emotion, very little turmoil, or internal conflict in the narration.

As for the other characters...what can be said about them? They feel more like props or one-time characters in a sitcom. I can't even begin to tell you anything interesting about them other than their names. There's no change or significant development with the characters, everyone feels like a static role because there was a quota to fill on the amount of people needed in this story. The only relatively interesting one is Dr. Mensah.

Even when the main conflict starts to ramp up and we get a piece of the rising action, other than a choice few parts that I liked, everything felt so...dull. It's a weird word to use, but it's the only one I can think of that fits the best. There's very little sense of weight or tension in the story because it's told in the most cut-and-dry narration and viewpoint possible. This book is like the equivalent of a funny, humorless acquaintance telling about a cool, exciting event that they witnessed but telling it in the most basest terms possible. Murderbot would see a unicorn pass by and say something like:

“A strange horned horse passed by, and then was gone. It was exceedingly strange, and I made a note to ask the humans about it back at the habitat. Maybe I could get movie-watching in during the walk back. I kept on traveling.”

Just...so dry and dull, with the occasional wit of “gee humans sure are weird” or “man what a crazy situation, am i right reader wink wink” thrown in.

Of course, there were some really good parts in here that were written in a way I genuinely liked, and I was invested in those scenes. I thought the instances where Murderbot struggled with interacting with the humans and the humans' reaction to it being less robot than they assumed to be fascinating. I wish so badly that was expanded upon. There were some later scenes that actually felt like they had legitimate emotion and some kind of investment in them by the characters and Murderbot (won't say more because of spoilers).

Also, without going too much into detail, I actually really liked the ending compared to the rest of the story, as weird as that is. We actually get some kind of change/development in Murderbot that felt meaningful due to what had happened to it. Dr. Mensah was also a pretty interesting character, based on her reaction to Murderbot and what she offered to it in the ending after the whole ordeal was over with.

All in all, this actually felt like a prologue to a bigger story. There's very little in the way of long-lasting or meaningful development in the characters, especially in Murderbot, with the exception of the very end. I've consistently heard that it's like a prologue to the rest of the series, and we track more of Murderbot's development as the books go on. Which is...eh to me. I kind of prefer my books to be a little bit more self-contained than that, but that's just me. I am tempted to read the rest of the series though since there was so much in terms of the premise that I loved about this book.

I guess in the end, you could say I was disappointed. I expected so much more in terms of character and plot, and was let-down. There's definitely parts that I really liked and that shone threw, but it's not as effective if it's bogged down by the more disappointing aspects and let-down potential. It's like someone describing the Titanic sinking as, “The boat sank. It was pretty sad. Definitely taught me to travel by air next time.”

I listened to this book via audiobook, and I rate the audiobook as great. It was the perfect narration to me; no distracting or exaggerated voices and accents. A nice even, tone throughout the whole narration. It was very nice to listen to in the background while driving or working on other things.

Note: This book was read in audiobook format. There will be a smaller separate review for just the audiobook at the end.

—-

There are certain books where I think to myself that I'm either going to love it or I'm going to hate it. The Martian by Andy Weir was one of those books.

I remember the surge of popularity it had when it first came out and when the movie was released a few years later. It felt like one of those books everyone was checking out and picking up to read. I tend to be late to the party when it comes to popular books like that, but Andy Weir is an author I've had on my wishlist for a while. He comes up frequently in most recommended science fiction books, and as a science fiction lover, that caught my interest. It was especially interesting because, as opposed to space operas filled with exotic locations, this was a fairly grounded speculative fiction set in the near future with probable technology and still in our Solar System.

Needless to say, I was intrigued. So, I finally bit the dust and decided to get the audiobook. I have to admit that I kind of took my sweet time starting it despite marking it as having begun reading it, in case anyone is wondering why it took me almost a month to finish an ~11 hour audiobook. But once I actually started listening to it, I was hooked.

And I'm happy to say that I found myself in the “love it” camp by the time I finished this book.

It's definitely a different kind of science fiction book that I really hadn't read before. It's a mixture of a lot of different formats; part epistolary, part narrative, jumping around multiple characters, and chat dialogues peppered within. Instead of being disorienting, I actually really enjoyed it. It's one of the books where I wanted to know everyone's point of view because I was invested in all sides of the story. The way I was hooked into the conflict and dying to know what happened was a joy to experience. It really did feel like I was there in the book's setting, riding along with Mark as he tried to find his way home, or in the conference room as the higher-ups discussed how to get him home. It was also interesting to see this conflict explored from all angles: on one side, it's a harrowing adventure of a man trapped in an alien landscape. And then on the other side, it's a stressful rescue mission to save a marooned person against all the odds. And yet, it's also a bureaucratic tangle of leaders, scientists, and news outlets scrambling amongst themselves. Seeing it from all angles was a fascinating exploration of all the different characters and methods, but all united towards one goal: bring Mark home.

There are a lot of scientific explanations and jargon included in the book, but I found it fascinating to hear about in the same way it was fascinating to hear about the psuedo-science in Jurassic Park. As someone who knows very little about these kinds of things, hearing a breakdown of them as explained through Mark's witty and dry commentary was pretty funny.

One of my favorite things about the book's plot is how organically it seemed to grow. It goes from Mark being trapped on Mars alone, to suddenly being discovered, to a rescue mission being planned, and keeps growing from there. Problems would pop up, new developments in the conflict would arise, and it kept me pulled in. I can't tell you how invested I was in Mark's predicament, and how invested I was in cheering on the people who were trying to save him. I distinctly remember thinking to myself at one point in the book, “God, please, please let Mark get home.” It was like he was a real person that I was rooting for and desperately hoping would make it home.

I'm honestly surprised at how much I was rooting for Mark and how much I related with him. Mark is almost detached from his situation through his wit and dry humor. There are hardly any parts where Mark wallows and becomes emotional at his predicament (though in all honesty, any person who did that in his situation, I would completely sympathize with). He handles everything with determination, joke cracking, and level-headedness. I was worried that it would prevent me from really sympathizing with Mark's plight. After all, why feel sorry for someone if they seem to be not at all perturbed at the situation they're in? But the way it was written, it really did feel like it was simply a part of who he was, and it made me cheer for him all the more.

There are some valid criticisms of the book I want to address. One is Mark's aforementioned nature in this book. There are no parts where Mark has a mental breakdown or gets emotional, at least not overly so. This might alienate some people who can't get invested in his conflict when he keeps making jokes. I've also read some criticisms where people pointed out that when you have a character who doesn't feel overly threatened by their situation, it feels like they're no stakes. I personally didn't feel any of this while I was reading the book, but this is the way that the book is written.

So, if I love the book so much...why only four stars? As much as I liked how the jumping perspectives and formats were handled in this book, there was a single flashback (no spoilers) that was included. It's the only one in the entire book, and nowhere else does the story take a step back from the current conflict to peek into the past. To me, it felt jarring and disrupted the flow of watching the conflict naturally progress throughout its different stages. I didn't feel it was necessary, either. So, that took off half a star for me.

The other half is because something I really love in real life was insulted in the book, and I couldn't let it slide.

Concluding this giant review, this is a new favorite of mine. I have a few other books of Weir's in my wishlist, and this makes me all the more excited to read them. And you know what? Sometimes we just need an uplifting book during these times, when it seems like we are divided by every imagined parameter and we couldn't hate each other more as a species. It's nice to read a book filled with hope and optimism. It's nice to journey through a story where, for once, it seems like humans are capable of coming together; a problem where we all band together, despite our differences in method and beliefs, to save one of our fellow humans, for the simple and good reason that we value each other and will risk everything to save someone if we have to. That's a nice feeling.

————–

Audiobook review: It's probably ironic that I've been listening to more audiobooks, considering how sensitive I am to ASMR-esque noises and how I can't stand them. I'm happy to say that this audiobook was pretty good. From what I understand, this audiobook was recorded with two narrators, and I listened to the version by R.C. Bray. He was pretty good, in my opinion! I thought his voice and expression matched the tone of the book; kind of dry with a smart, quick wit. Nothing felt over-acted and for the most part, things felt naturally narrated. There were only a few parts where his narration caused my immersion to be broken.

On that subject...I have to talk about his accents. For the most part in audiobooks (and maybe even animated media), I don't mind someone faking an accent as long as they're accurately done. For the most part, R.C. Bray wasn't too bad. Kapoor's Hindi accent seemed accurate enough to me as someone who is not familiar with the language. The other ones weren't too jarring to me. One had a slight Mexican accent, one had an American East coast accent (I want to say it was Bronx or Brooklyn), and there was someone who spoke in African American Vernacular. Bray performed these well enough, but I have to say...as someone familiar with the language and having grown up in East Asian communities, his Chinese/Mandarin accents left a lot to be desired.

I'm pretty sensitive towards Asian accents, just because I've lived in Asian communities in America for almost all of my life. His accents for the Chinese characters erred too much on the inaccurate-derived-from-stereotypes side. I swear at a few points, it slipped a bit into the Hindi accent he used for Kapoor. It's more than possible I'm being too sensitive. I can't imagine this being an issue that many people are affected by. But as someone who's had to deal with Asians being very obviously voice-acted by people who have no clue about the language, it's something I naturally tune into.

The only other thing that stuck out to me (and this isn't necessarily on Bray) is the way that certain scenes turn into a repetitive pattern of “(character) said” over and over again.

But these are all slight complaints. The audiobook was enjoyable to listen to for the most part!

Note: This story was listened to in audiobook form. I'll add a separate small review for just the audiobook at the end.

Content warnings: War crimes, sexual assault/rape, violence, self harm
Spoilers discussed in detail within this review

Warning, long review up ahead.

It's fun to write a review for a book if you love it or you hate it. For a book that's simply just disappointing, there's not that same kind of enjoyment.

This is one of those reviews.

As a person of East Asian descent, I was very excited to read this book. Mainstream fantasy has so often been defined by all the same European (mostly Western European) derived culture and history. But from the real world, the inspiration of even the wildest of stories, there is so much more than West Europe (and the USA, I'd like to add). Whenever I see fantastical and/or speculative fiction that derives from something else, I always get excited. As someone who is East Asian, seeing a book inspired by a significant event from that region got me hyped to read this.

I've recently gotten into audiobooks while working my job, and so I got this audiobook and couldn't wait to hear an exciting saga to liven up my work day. At about 1/3 of the way in, it was already becoming a struggle to finish it. It was only through sheer willpower that I got through the entire audiobook. I found myself making faces at what I was hearing through my earbuds.

I was under the impression that this book would be a sprawling and dense, maturely written saga. The first section of the book sounded like a teen sitcom. I don't want to sound disrespectful to YA fiction as a whole and the people who read them, but I mean to say that this was not the dense and complex writing I was hoping for, but when I heard about this book having rich characters and dramatic conflicts, I was not expecting your typical public school drama with one-note stereotypes.

Let me back up a little. The very first section of the book, with Rin escaping her foster family to go to the prestigious school of Sinegard, was very gripping. Already, I was invested in this character's determination to rise above the poverty she had endured to an entirely new setting with a new culture. And then the school section of the story began and I was severely underwhelmed. I'm not joking when I say you could take out the names and setting details and put just the dialogue in your typical late '90s early 2000s teen drama sitcom, and nothing would seem out of place. All of the usual cliches are there. Now, I understand cliches are present in every story, but usually people try to offset them a little with an original twist or add some kind of interesting catch to them that makes them at least somewhat entertaining to read and less shallow. There is none of that here. Literally, every character in this beginning section of the book is a cardboard cutout of a trope. This was the deep characterization and writing that people had been raving about?

Rin's the new girl who nobody likes because she's different and a little better than her peers. She's got the typical nerdy best friend/sidekick. The bully who literally exists just to be utterly irredeemable with no other qualities. The preppy pretty girl. Yes, there is a goddamn prep girl character in this war saga novel. There is nothing else to them, no motivations or deeper explorations of who they are other than the archetypes. It's frustrating because there are instances where you could delve deeper into the character, showcase them as why they are the way they are. Oh, the bully is the war lord's son? How might that affect him into being a bully? But no, he's just there to beat up Rin and be the bad guy.

Everyone is defined as being either “good” or “bad” depending on if they are an ally of Rin or not. Rin's nerdy friend, the professor who sympathizes with her, and her original tutor? Basically all good guys, nothing more. The bully, the prep girl, the teacher who hates Rin? All of them are unequivocal jerks because of course only a jerk could be mean and not like our main character. The only mildly interesting character in this part of the book is Jiang, because he's kind of weird and had a potentially interesting backstory. But even then, “weird teacher who kind of vibes with the main character because said main character is an outcast” isn't something that's really rare.

And then comes the second portion of the book, that focuses on the invasion and the characters being thrust into the war.

The whiplash I felt from the extreme tone shift was nearly physical, it was so bad.

I have never read a book with a more inconsistent tone between the two halves of the book. It felt like Kuang had written two entirely different books, one a typical YA coming-of-age school drama book, and the other book a gritty and grimdark war novel, and then decided to arbitrarily put them under the same cover. I was actually staring open-mouthed at my phone at some parts in disbelief that this was still the same story. We suddenly go from teenage school drama to extreme violence. The enemy forces invade, and Rin is now at the front lines with her new magical training. There are no more prep girls or bullies to deal with. Now, we start dealing with massive war atrocities. Despicable war crimes, children being murdered in the fight and people viciously killed and mutilated. Corpses littering the streets, women being violently raped and brutalized.

What in the hell? What kind of shift is this? I'm not saying that the beginning of the book was all peachy clean. There are clear references to self-harm, marital rape, drug abuse, and violence. But the leap from minor details to full-blown descriptions and focus on violence is such a tonal shock. I'm not saying it's impossible to do this, or that it's a bad idea. Ender's Game started out as a kid's academy that deals with child soldiers and the real consequences of war put onto a young, developing kid. Harry Potter is a coming-of-age story that notably grows darker and more intense as the books go on. The difference between these two books and The Poppy War is that the tonal shift is handled leagues better, a more gradual and natural shift. We know the stakes in the beginning of Ender's Game see how they are revealed and delved into deeper as the story goes on, and even then, it's not like we get pages of graphic descriptions of women and children being brutalized. Harry Potter was a gradual change that happened over years and dealt very organically with the changes in psychology and circumstances during a war.

Kuang does not handle the shift with the same finesse. Characters who were once one-note archetypes are now suddenly fighting in a brutal war and subject to intense brutality themselves. Shallow characters are not sufficiently developed in an organic way, and suddenly we're watching them change in the midst of a war. And to think this is only book one of a trilogy...this kind of transition would have been better spread out across all three of those books!

While the story and characters were agonizing, that's not to say that I didn't enjoy aspects of this book. The world-building, being based on Chinese history, was very interesting to read and I enjoyed the setting very much. Seeing the history of past wars being talked about was actually interesting, if a little infodump-esque. Even the dropping of real world names and historical figures (Sun Tzu being the most noticeable) didn't bother me that much because I see it happen all the time in Western-derived stories. To me, it's very little different from a Eurocentric fantasy story having extremely obvious stand-ins for real-world ethnicities, nations, and religions (or in some cases, just flat out having a Christian-esque God in a fantasy world). I think we're more used to it in Eurocentric stories and tend to excuse it there more. If anything, it made Kuang's world seem more like an alternate history kind of setting to me than straight-up fantasy.

Among those who are critical of the book like me, I'm actually opposite of the major opinion and think Rin became more interesting as the book went on. She started out as a pretty common character trope of wanting to be better and rising above her position, being the new girl at school that nobody likes, and then suddenly finding she really is special through her magical powers. Watching her become more hardened and making ethically reprehensible choices as the story went on made her a much more intriguing character to me. I am utterly fascinated by characters like that, and I think it's much more realistic. Imagine being a vulnerable child, orphaned by a horrible war and raised by abusive people, knowing very little of love and nurturing and living in poverty. Now imagine being a young teenager (Rin seems to be about 14-15 in the beginning of the book and ages to around 17-18? when the war starts) and being ostracized by your peers, pushed beyond your limits, singled out with very few friends on your side. And now you have some kind of mystical power that proves you are superior in some way to your peers and are trusted with power over others.

You're not going to magically become a good guy who saves the day and always does the right thing, especially in a fantasy world where there is no such thing as “the right thing.” Not to say that typical good hero stories are bad. I love them very much and cherish them. But I cherish character stories like Rin's in a different way, because they give such a raw and powerful outlook on a vulnerable person being put in a position of power. The part where she commits genocide on an entire ethnic population and now has aspirations to take over much more...that kind of development is chilling. Is she likable? Not really. Is she a good person? God, no. But you don't need to be a good person or even likable to be a compelling character. It's probably the only good thing about the tonal shift, though this would have been much better developed more naturally over the course of three books than crammed into one.

I'm honestly torn over whether to continue the series or not. The final development of Rin are very intriguing, and I do want to see what more happens, if Rin falls further into being a despicable person or if she somehow tries to find a way to pay for her sins. But Kuang's writing is such a struggle to get through, and I don't know if the amazing setting and Rin's development will be enough to get me through the rest, especially with how long the stories are.

But I am considering buying a physical copy of this book and re-reading it. And that's because...

Audiobook Review

Okay, so it took me a while to get into audiobooks. I tend to zone out when trying to listen, and I'm very sensitive about sounds (I'm one of those highly sensitive people who physically cannot stand the sensation of ASMR into my ear, including whispering and certain kinds of noises). But after training myself up to it, I've been getting more into it and getting better at listening to stories. And it's such a great way to consume more books when you can't exactly read them, like at work.

So, this audiobook. My first impressions are that the narrator's voice is kind of whispery and soft, which ties into that whole ASMR thing. But that's 100% subjective and shouldn't at all be considered valid.

And then I continued listening.

Maybe my reaction to the story was partly influenced by the narration. She was so exaggerated in her reading of characters that it was almost laughable. It sounded like a parody. She sounded like she had to act out the characters to a class of children. I don't know how you can take this grimdark story seriously when she's lowering and making her voice sound gruff, or drawing out her words for older men in such a comical way. Her gasping and crying for Rin's emotional dialogue were so excessive. In some parts, I had to stifle my laughter at how unintentionally comedic she made the voices.

She gave Kitay, Rin's nerdy friend, something like...I don't even know how to describe it, like an urban, California surfer accent? It was the opposite of immersion. Probably the worst was Venka. I am not joking when I say she gave Venka a literal stereotypical prep girl accent. You know, the high-pitched, kind of Valley girl voice? I was half expecting Venka to say “And, like, you better not wear the same dress as me to, like, prom, okay girlfriend?” or something equally ridiculous. These voices sounded like imitations of something from a Disney teen sitcom from 2000 to 2005.

I don't know, maybe some people enjoy the extra acting in voices. It was too over-the-top and comedic for me, especially considering this is the same book where corpses are piled up and litter the streets after a brutal invasion. But again...tonal whiplash.

I think I've said more than enough, so I will end all of my rambling here. I will be on the lookout for more Asian-inspired fantasy. Hopefully, I will enjoy it more than this one. Perhaps there is improvement in the other books of this trilogy? I'll only find out if I read them, and I don't know how likely that will be.