Bronwyn Knox
There was no payoff for the time spent on this book intellectually, spiritually, or viscerally. I almost never say this, but I appreciated the film more because it managed to convey the same ideas without the tedium.
I understand that the writing style (run-on sentences, no separation of dialogue, no punctuation) may have been meant to give the writer the same feeling of stumbling around blindly but since it didn't truly achieve this, by the time I reached the last hundred pages I was weary of it.
I will avoid rating this for now, as I may try to read this again in a few months or a year or so. When we're not in a real-life quarantine maybe it won't feel so odious.
Flora is a Mary Poppins without the magic, an Emma in the 1930's, a strong willed and confident 19-year-old who finds herself orphaned and without cash.
She's not the type to worry or grieve. Homeless, she invites herself to the farm of some relations known as the Starkadders. They're all stuck in a rut, a bit dark and gloomy, led by the intimidating and incoherent presence of Aunt Ada. “Busybody” Flora gets to work and changes the Starkadders narrow lives for the better.
Flora maneuvers her relatives into doing what she thinks they would be best at and plays matchmaker for the younger set. Not so much because she cares for her relatives, but because she just can't leave things alone and, in her mind, they're not capable of doing the right thing without her!
It's a fast and funny novel, nothing too complex. I was really in the mood for some humor and this did the trick. Flora is amusingly vain and superior; she's tart, not sweet. There's some cynical lines like these that keep the book from being too cute for its own good:
“Flora sighed. It was curious that persons who lived what the novelists called a rich emotional life always seemed to be a bit slow on the uptake.”
“Surely she had endured enough for one evening without having to listen to intelligent conversation?”
“That would be delightful,' agreed Flora, thinking how nasty and boring it would be.”
This was written nearly 90 years ago, but I do think it has a timeless appeal.
Family saga that follows the Hamiltons and the Trasks and loosely re-imagines the biblical story Cain and Abel.
Steinbeck asks the question: is your nature fated because of blood (genetics) or do you have a choice in what you're going to be?
The wisest characters believe that we do have a choice. Timshel. Thou mayest triumph over sin, meaning that men have a choice.
“I don't very much believe in blood,” said Samuel. “I think when a man finds good or bad in his children he is seeing only what he planted in them after they cleared the womb.” “You can't make a race horse of a pig.” “No,” said Samuel, “but you can make a very fast pig.”
I can't think of much to recommend this one. The idea of the Time Traveler, Henry, who is suffering from a genetic disorder called “chrono-impairment” sounded interesting, but unfortunately the author never did anything with it. She fails to explore any of the philosophical, emotional, or scientific ideas of the effect this would have on Henry or Claire. It's a device; an impediment or complication to his romance with Claire, the title character.
This is mostly just a romance and doesn't really work for me on that level either. Other than the above mentioned device, there isn't much of anything interesting between these two. Claire has no personality whatsoever that I can grasp. Henry has slightly more of an inner life but no tension ever ratchets up in the story between them. She knows she's going to be his wife because of the various visits of his future self and she pretty much just accepts this. No rebellion, no exploration of other relationships, no real conflict....
The writing style didn't make it any better. Sure, it was an easy read, and I had some curiosity about where it was all going. But the passages were dull journal entries alternating between Claire and Henry and the language was stiff. There is no difference in the “voice” between the two characters and the dialogue was stilted.
The story is structured like this: various teams travel the Long Earth with different goals in mind.
Much of the conflict revolves around humanity and their ability to co-exist with trolls and other humanoids. The war in the title deals with the Datum government wanting to control humans on Long Earth worlds, since their departure damaged the economy.
Things don't rev up until the last 50 pages. I enjoy the light humor and writing style so much that I was willing to stick with it, but it can really try a reader's patience.
Maybe more like 2.5. This is a very 90's satire of the gangster/crime drama genre of films that was ubiquitous and popular at that time.
I was interested in this book because Elton was a writer for two of my favorite shows from the 1980s, The Young Ones, and Black Adder II-IV. He certainly knows how to structure a plot and write dialogue.
Unfortunately, the book jacket/promo blurbs led me to believe this was going to be WAY funnier than it actually was. There were a couple of mild chuckles, but mostly it was ironic, not laugh-out-loud funny.
It's very meta and there are lots of bits in screenplay format and the whole thing is slick and superficial. It could be turned into a film easily. If the characters were a bit more developed the story would have been funnier because then, as a reader I would have been involved as the situation became increasingly dangerous if I had any insight into these people. As it stands, there are no heroes or relatable characters in the book. Everyone is a spectacular tool.
The material that it satirizes, such as Natural Born Killers, was already pretty meta and had its own messages about glorifying violence and depicting killers as folk heroes in the media. Satire should be better than what it's satirizing, and this is not; it's not even as good.
There were a couple of strong points about Popcorn. The final confrontation did have me very tense. I also appreciate that Popcorn takes a swipe at both liberal and conservative views and suggests that we take responsibility for our own actions and don't blame the media or any other circumstances for our mistakes and failures.
Well-structured, compelling, and truly scary ghost story. I will be looking at more Straub when the horror mood strikes me. Note that the character Sears James tells a story about himself as a young schoolteacher that is very similar to, and probably inspired by, Henry James' [b:The Turn of the Screw 12948 The Turn of the Screw Henry James https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1567172392l/12948.SY75.jpg 990886].
Eternally grateful that this book exists and launched my favorite fantasy series.
It is entertaining and worth it if you're familiar with a lot of standard fantasy tropes and want to have a laugh. I thought of it as a Hitchhiker's Guide for the fantasy set.
It is like a twisted game of D&D where the player characters don't know they are playing a game. It's really four novellas stuck together, telling the stories of Rincewind and his charge, Twoflower who are taking a tour around the Disc.
Twoflower is a clerk from “foreign parts,” desperately seeks to escape his office rut and have a little adventure in the metropolis of Ankh-Morpork, where the heroes and villains of his fantasies reside. Rincewind, would-be-wizard and academic failure of Unseen University, has to either keep Twoflower unharmed or incur the wrath of the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork. Of course the journey with Twoflower might also kill him.
It's interesting to see the genesis of some characters/elements of the Discworld: Ankh-Morpork, Octarine, The Great A'tuin, Vetinari, Death and so on. Also the Luggage, who is a horrifying monster, yet practical carrying device, and frequent deus ex machina for the travelers.
If you want to read some Discworld, it's not necessary (or even recommended) to start with the Colour of Magic. Most readers suggest going for a subseries and reading from there. Guards! Guards! or Wyrd Sisters are a great introduction to the Nightwatch/Witches subseries respectively. These are where I started. The characters in those books have a little more depth to sink your teeth into and the humor gets better as well. But Colour of Magic is still a lot of fun.
A man born and raised on Mars comes to Earth. He learns about Earth customs and a few people learn his more advanced ways. He believed he could improve the state of the world, but disguises his project as a new religion. He starts a commune/cult that includes a partner-swapping good time!
The Martian/human offers innocence and purity, as well as freedom from negatives like fear and illness, guilt and hate, material greed, jealousy, and violence. Of course most of the world doesn't understand and wants to destroy him or lock him up.
Somehow it's not as exciting as it sounds. There is a LOT of philosophizing, discussion and theorizing by the characters, more telling and exposition than showing. No real tension between characters, not many obstacles to face or any antagonists, and not a lot of plot. It starts off really well but doesn't pick up any momentum.
There's an article here on Tor.com that defines this and some other issues with the book.
I feel obligated to give three stars for “liking” the book, since it's a sci-fi classic and it is noteworthy that Stranger in a Strange Land finally earned some respect for the sci-fi genre in general.
It's just not speaking to me intellectually or emotionally as a reader. I gather it was a huge deal when it was published in 1961 and credited for some of the counterculture ideas from later in the 1960s.
The epilogue was the best part, and what I was expecting more of from the book. In the epilogue, she talks in general terms about the Gen-x tendency toward depression and the culture of the 1990s. Most of the rest of the book is her own story and it is sad but, as she herself admits in the afterward, the repetitiveness of it can be annoying. Still, I'm not sorry I read it. It was a book I always hear about and never got around to and it was relatable sometimes.
Reread an old book to see if it's as good as I remember. It's still an engaging story: The plot, character, pacing, and tension are all there. Back when I first read this, Johnny's fragility compelled my interest and his hope for happiness or normal life again after the accident gave him his unwanted ability. Will he find another woman after Sarah? Where will his new ability take him, etc.?
I was struck by the religious themes this time around. His mother, driven by her faith, is painted as a nutcase. Even her husband becomes enraged by her behavior, justifiably when she risks their financial life by giving money away to various religious causes/groups, hoping this would save Johnny. Religious=crazy, but is Johnny a kind of messiah? He “dies” and resurrects with a gift that saves several people, future victims of a serial killer, high school students who would have burnt up in a fire, and so on. His “gift” means can't lead a normal life. He's feared and hated by some, yet other “believers” petition him for guidance.
Johnny's final gift to humanity is to take down the false or perceived political messiah figure of Greg Stilson. The common man worships and sees him as the hope of those who aren't born into privilege. Stilson's corruption goes unnoticed, except by a few who are quickly eliminated in a way that never catches up to him. The idea of Stilson, a politician who “understands and cares” about people, is the dream. (Note how he is not Dem or Rep.) Yet, Johnny sees a future where Stilson's power is boundless and causes great destruction and suffering. He appears to be what the country needs, but he's false and Johnny's final act reveals Stilson's cold, manipulative soul. A true savior of the common man is a myth.
Devotion to a messiah=crazy. The hated and feared Johnny makes the sacrifice. The rest of us are left safe but without hope. But wait. The final bit shows that Sarah's husband has a political possible future. Will he be one of the good ones or just another power-mad charlatan?
This is still a complex, readable story. My above interpretation is one of many that are possible. Other than some quaint, outdated sexual/gender politics around Sarah, this is a timeless classic novel of the supernatural.
Witty and exciting cyber-punk. I can't believe I missed this guy back in the 1990s. This was reminiscent of William Gibson's Sprawl trilogy with its hipster-youth outsider characters, division of haves and have-nots, corporate-controlled dystopia, and the combining of the spiritual with technology.
There are tons of funny one-liners; Snow Crash was worth it just for this alone. I also fell for the colorful characters I could root for even if at times they were impossibly attractive, savvy, and quick.
A few things in the plot and some motivations were slightly unresolved and fuzzy but overall I loved reading this.
I picked this up specifically for “Harrison Bergeron,” a dystopian future story where “equality” is forced on everyone by law. Any advantages citizens have, intelligence, strength, beauty, must be handicapped artificially. Interesting concept and absurdly wicked the way the plot goes down.
Other stories in the collection I enjoyed were “Report on the Barnhouse Effect,” “The Euphio Question,” and “Deer in the Works,” all of which were dark and funny at the same time and gave me plenty to think about.
The title story was a real doozy, another dystopian future, in which the world is overpopulated so people take a pill to kill all sexual desire, instead of the more expected methods of contraception.
“If you go back through history you'll find that the people who have been most eager to rule, to make the laws, to enforce the laws and to tell everybody exactly how God Almighty wants things here on Earth — those people have forgiven themselves and their friends for anything and everything. But they have been absolutely disgusted and terrified by the natural sexuality of common men and women.”
Electric Dreams
One of the best horror books I've read in awhile. The real-life fears of bullying, alcoholism, pedophilia, loneliness, and poverty juxtaposed with the supernatural terror of vampirism.
It is genuinely chilling and emotionally moving.
I was invested in all of the characters, including feeling empathy for the “villains.”
The ending was amazing, a little bit open-ended but also satisfying.
Memoir-like tale of childhood through young adulthood, told by a young man whose life revolves around his extraordinary best friend. Ideas of fate, prophecy, and religion figure heavily into the story, and it explores the idea of how much a person's beliefs can influence their fate.
The narrative flips around in time a lot. The reader knows what the big events will be before they occur in story order, but you get the details gradually. This playing with the order of events plays along with the themes of fate.
As with all John Irving, there's lots of humor and character development.
This was a wild blending of elements: fantasy, cyber-punk, steampunk, horror, and classic mythology to name a few. So many different creatures it's impossible to remember how you're supposed to be imagining them as you come across different characters. As Douglas Adams put it in The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, “the things are also people.”
I'd be better off reading this alongside a companion book, The Visual Guide to Bas-Lag (as yet non-existent). I like to think I have a visual imagination, and it's not so much the elaborate descriptions as it is the sheer number of species and locations. Bonus, everything is covered with slime and feces.
Oh yeah, I enjoyed the story as well, though I never got too cozy with any of the characters.
This neurotypical found Oryx and Crake surprisingly humorous, especially for the dystopia-to-apocalypse variety of science fiction.The world Atwood created starts out with people in a corporate-dominated society, who have no freedom, no fresh food, no regard for humanity, and the WORST PART no value for any kind of art or romantic love. Humanity just puts up with it, which is the most devastating thought of all. (Okay, there is a resistance movement but we don't know much about them.) That doesn't sound so amusing but something in the way Jimmy/Snowman tells the tale makes it that way. The so-called genius known as Crake has a negative fixation with sex and sexuality which is over-the-top to the point of being funny. For instance, when a clinical trial participant of a Viagra-like pill called “Blysspluss” gets a giant genital wart over her entire body, I have to figure Atwood is pulling my leg. Nothing in [b:The Handmaid's Tale 38447 The Handmaid's Tale (The Handmaid's Tale, #1) Margaret Atwood https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1578028274l/38447.SY75.jpg 1119185] led me to believe that Atwood had any sense of humor whatsoever but maybe I misjudged her. Anyone who can find the humor in dark topics is tops with me.
The best chance this typical “high fantasy” novel had of standing out was the five college students from our world who were pulled into Fionavar. We could have experienced the world through their more relatable point of view.
Unfortunately, I don't think the idea was used to its full potential. None of the five really bring anything of their modern selves to the party. They blend into their new surroundings quickly and without any problem adjusting to the world of Fionavar. It seems like a missed opportunity.
This story had me experiencing nostalgia for a time before YouTube was corporate and censoring. I also felt the traumatic emotional memories being an adult who witnessed 9/11/01.
Pattern Recognition had a surprising historical fiction feel for something that's science fiction. That's probably because I'm reading this nearly 20 years too late.
I did learn a new word, “Apophenia: the tendency to mistakenly perceive connections and meaning between unrelated things.”
I also like this:
“Paranoia, he said, was fundamentally egocentric, and every conspiracy theory served in some way to aggrandize the believer.”
Really had me on the edge of my seat but not as good as [b:The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo 2429135 The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (Millennium, #1) Stieg Larsson https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327868566l/2429135.SX50.jpg 1708725]. I know it's a thriller about “men who hate women” and some broad strokes are acceptable. I didn't take this terribly seriously, but there were some distracting elements that took me out of the story.For example, apparently in this world only women are victims of the sex trade/ trafficking. I'm pretty sure in reality there are male prostitutes who are victimized. But a character in [b:The Girl Who Played with Fire 5060378 The Girl Who Played with Fire (Millennium, #2) Stieg Larsson https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1351778881l/5060378.SX50.jpg 6976108] actually makes this statement about crimes against sex workers: “It's not often that a researcher can establish roles along gender lines so clearly. Girls–victims; boys perpetrators.”” There is a lack of subtlety in the supporting characters. When Lisbeth gets into trouble, every character who believes she is guilty is a homophobic misogynist per their behavior and dialogue. Since Lisbeth feels so real to me, it's a shame other characters can't have more complexity.
Fun and entertaining sci-fi story in which characters investigate different parallel versions of Earth.
Most of the book is taken up by explaining the backstory of “stepping”–the way that humans on our Earth learn to travel from parallel world to parallel world.
Once these new “Earth” are discovered, there are philosophical implications to such as how an endless supply of habitable planets provides humanity with new resources to exploit, old-west-style pioneering, and opportunities for a new life. As one character puts it:
“An end to scarcity and, may we hope, war. And perhaps a new meaning to life.”
“You have traveled far across the contingency tree of the possible, on a planet where dramatic but quasi-random extinction events periodically obliterate much of family life, leaving room for evolutionary innovation.”
This is a fun read and my kind of history book. Sarah Vowell has written a travel diary covering her trips to various sites of significance to the assassinations of the U.S. Presidents in the 19th century. Vowell covers both her reactions to the places she visits (and those of her sometimes less-than-enthused travel competitions) and bits of trivia and and of course history about her subjects.
Sure, the topic is a little morbid but she clearly has a great passion for it. Vowell's conversational style and sense of humor make this more entertaining than it sounds. My favorite bits are when she slyly notes the absurdity and weirdness of American history. I'm definitely up for checking out more of her work.
Explores the notion of where dark ideas come from for those who write horror or thriller/violent stories. There's a supernatural, physical manifestation of the protagonist's “dark half.” The story builds up quickly into a chilling horror/thriller with a great ending that manages to be just what I want as a reader, “surprising but inevitable.” King's endings don't always work for me. I've read some books of his that were going along so well and then the finale ruins everything. Not so with this one. It's good from start to finish and never a dull moment.
This series of novellas is considered a postmodern take on the detective novel and uses conventions of the genre as their base. In all three stories, a solitary male character finds himself involved in a mystery that was artificially constructed to one degree or another by an antagonist that we know little about.
Each of these protagonists goes on a downward spiral and loses sight of himself, the purpose in his own life, and his relationships or goals. Quinn, the main character from “City of Glass” is the most sympathetic, maybe because before the start of his adventure he has already suffered tragedy. By the time the reader can see that his mystery has come to a deadend, he doesn't let go.
“Quinn no longer had any interest in himself. He wrote about the stars, the earth, his hopes for mankind. He felt that his words had been severed from him, that now they were part of the world at large, as real and specific as a stone, or a lake, or a flower.”
“It struck me that writing under another name might be something I would enjoy–to invent a secret identity for myself–and I wondered why I found this idea so attractive.”
“As the days go on, Blue realizes there is no end to the stories he can tell. For Black is no more than a kind of blankness, a hole in the texture of things, and one story can fill this hole as well as any other”
