Becca

An interesting exploration of the effects McDonald's has had in various East Asian countries. The essays on Beijing and Hong Kong are far more researched and interesting than Tapei, Japan and Seoul. Otherwise, an interesting ethnography.

There are books about revolutions that are really novels, and not a manifesto. This is not one of them. More propaganda than literature, furnished with schticks rather than narrative this is a clunky sophomore novel. The redeeming feature is the intricacy of character in Rex and Gordon. However, all of the other characters, even the ostensible main characters are not featured enough to be much more than spokespeople for the various political causes Chute uses them for.

I love this book – a very concise and well-organized reference to biochemical genetics that is simple enough and focused enough on core principles to be of use to the general pediatrician, but also contains enough detail to be useful for specialists.

An extremely engaging read about the defenses that we have to protect us when dealing with others. It is ultimately about each person's condition – the bits of them that keep them from being completely fulfilled and the fundamental weaknesses that define personalities.

Simultaneous to the extremely moving emotional story is an extremely well-researched scientific one. In my career I have met several girls & women with Turner's syndrome & every bit of Gwen's story rang true. Similarly, I have met several scientists and doctors & the personalities of Billy and Frank and the details of their professional lives down to the minutia was done sincerely. Each character is well-rounded, likeable, flawed and ultimately believable, which is the true strength of the novel.

A really excellent, if slightly outdated, resource on the Darwinistic underpinings of our responses to disease. By far the best part of the book was the table categorizing disease responses (protective v. quirks v. secondary purpose). The book may have been made slightly stronger if it stuck more strictly to the topic of disease; however, as an introduction to the rigorous scientific ideas behind Darwinism, it was made richer by the discussions of pregnancy, foodstuffs, kin altruism and selfish gene phenomena. Thoroughly enjoyable, although not much new for the already versed reader.

A fascinating book. More rich and memorable than a lifetime of history textbooks. Exquisitely researched down to the last details.

Two things keep Dreamers of the Day from joining Russell's other books among my absolute favorites –
1) Agnes Shanklin often seems a mere vessel to convey historical facts and opinions on colonization decisions. The main character is more properly T.E. Lawrence. By necessity, historical fiction contains true historical figures, and Russell has clearly done her homework, never misattributing opinions. Nevertheless, Lawrence and other historical figures (Gertrude Bell, Winston Churchill and others) in starring roles makes the book feel less like a novel and more like a fictionalized historical text.

2) The ending was superfluous, silly and totally detracted from the tone of the book.

This is the sort of book that only Chabon could have written. An exemplar of the Noir genre (probably the best of its class for the past several years) – Sitka, Alaska is a dark place, inhabited by a plethora of morally gray characters and equally gray bureaucracy. Meyer Landsman is a man on the edge of life, struggling with alcoholism; emotionally dependent on being a police officer, but too emotionally broken to consistently be a good one.

Added to the mixture is a generous helping of Jewish culture, Yiddish language and a not entirely kind treatment of the relationship between spiritual beliefs and good deeds.

Much has been noted about how, although set in Alaska, Union points a critical eye to the non-alternate history Jewish settlements in Israel, which, while true, is incidental to the greatness of the book.

One point of criticism: I am not sure how approachable this book would be to a non-Jewish reader. I was highly critical about the pre-existing amount of culture knowledge needed for Oscar Wao, and by comparison there is more foreign language and far more cultural and religious references in Union.

Oh dear. I have casually enjoyed Dan Brown's other tomes; however, The Lost Symbol didn't even have that brain candy charm. Tense scenes were frequently interrupted by several page long asides of dubious relevance. The so-called science was hilariously awful and the end of the book suspense revolved in part around the fear that someone would exsanguinate through a “medical needle” placed in a vein in the antecubital fossa (i.e. venipuncture.) Luckily, that part was so ill-paced that the character was saved before I had to waste too much time screaming about how infeasible it was to be killed by an IV.

The core plot – many important men in Washington are Free Masons, a group that has left hidden symbols all over Washington DC and celebrates human life – was far less intriguing than Brown's other books.

Overall – this was in SORE need of an editor and a fact checker.

A gorgeous and moving piece centered on what truly makes one oneself and how much of personality is bound up in our relationships with others. Every twist of the ending was telegraphed from the beginning, but despite that (or perhaps because of it) each piece is still extremely poignant. If this book has a draw back it is that Niffenegger still has a somewhat heavy hand with the English language. Long passages in Portuguese are written in full and then occasionally translated below (a gimmick which smacks of arrogance), thoughts are typed haphazardly in italics and some sentences simply fall flat.
Overall, an extraordinary second novel.

Gladwell's writing is captivating and insightful as always; however, What the Dog Saw lacks a unifying theme, in contrast to Gladwell's early books. Since one of Gladwell's strengths is the connection of different entities on the basis of shared phenomena, this lack prevents What The Dog Saw from being a true masterpiece. Nevertheless, an enjoyable read.

The wooden dialogue, totally cliche black-or-white characters and obvious self-insertion overrode any attempt at plot.

Full disclosure: I went into this with a hatred of chick-lit. I had enjoyed the guilty pleasure of The Nanny Diaries, and when my best friend told me she secretly loved chick-lit, I decided to give it a try. My first attempt (from her bookshelf) was deplorable, but I liked The Devil Wears Prada film, so I decided to give the genre a second try.

This book was unbelievably terrible. The shallow, self-absorbed main character, whom we're supposed to believe is interesting enough for everyone to follow her life in the newspaper and qualified enough for her Fabulous job. (And also, women everywhere in Weisberger's world, even highly educated and qualified ones, want Fabulous jobs in fashion and entertainment) The staunch homophobia, with only truly flaming homosexual characters (and all effete men being secretly homosexual) was what really turned me off from this book.

Experiment? Over.

I wanted to love this, but at the end of the day, Vincent's characterization of men was so unbelievable – I read passages about how men acted towards each other aloud to my husband, who found them a trite over-simplification. It reveals more of Vincent's misandry than any profound truths about sex and gender.

Nix excels at world-building, which, as usual, is showcased in Saturday. Sorceress Saturday's realm is beautifully worked, with new classes of Denizen's, new personalities and gorgeously depicted scenery.
Saturday is also the most clear moral play of the books discussing the motivations and trustworthiness of the Will, the Old One, and Arthur himself as he progressively becomes less human.
However, I agree with other reviewers – this reads like a work unfinished. Every other book contained gaining both the Will and the Key of that day, except Saturday. There is not really a clear contextual reason for the book to end – it is neither a conclusion, nor a major cliffhanger, simply the book concludes.

Credit where credit is due: I hate books written in the present tense AND I went into this book expecting a forensic mystery.

That being said, the pacing was terrible, the book was so overstuffed that at one point, in the middle of discussing a crime scene we get step by step details of the main character cooking a risotto and the most minute of characters (characters who were mentioned on less than two pages) were given names and personalities. The ending was the most trite thing imaginable and several plot holes were left unfilled.

By far, the best thing about this book was the forensics – full of luminol and superglue fuming; however, forensics took a far back seat to the life details of every minor character.

Concepts such as a child standing up for a parent versus a parent standing up to a child were poignantly explored and the difficulty of choosing between parents. The centerpiece of the book is what different parents give us. That being said, the narrative device of a near death experience was trite and did not actually add anything. All of the moving interactions with his mother truly happened in the flashbacks and could have been kept there without that aspect. The surprise twist at the end was anticlimactic, not to mention unnecessary and the culmination of Chick's relationship with his daughter felt added on in the end. Far from Albom's best work.

Interesting premise, but Dr. Elliot has difficulty sticking to the thesis – the book feels like it is wandering, and overstuffed. I ended up feeling like only the first two chapters actually discussed enhancement technologies at all.

I simply lacked sympathy for most of these medical students. Medical school is hard; it is demanding and it requires compassion and a love of science. One of the writers complained how her classmates were shallow for enjoying their science classes and how they didn't care that she didn't have time for poetry, which she claimed was the underlying discipline that drove her to medicine. Whatever made her think that being a doctor and being a poet were the same job is beyond me.

Some of the stories were touching – a lesbian mother and an older student with sickle cell syndrome both had stories that called to me. But others simply were naive, self-centered and at the end of the day, whiners. The stories were prosaic, although it was clear the authors thought they were insightful and the writing was amateur.

The Lost Boys is a triumph in setting. The most frequent complaint I found about this book before reading it myself was how long it takes to get to the plot (the plot, per se, occurs on page 374 and runs for about 15 pages before the book ends.) People who say such things are missing Card's point. The Lost Boys is not about plot – it is about how the most mundane things can conspire to drive us down – how teachers can be too cynical to love children, how churchgoers can be so self-absorbed that they wrap God around themselves and how businesses can be so obsessed with the bottom line that they are torturing their employees. It is about how witty Step and kind DeAnne get disillusioned and how hard they have to work to pull themselves back up. And ultimately, Lost Boys is Card's testament to Mormonism – how faith in the unseen can be the most important thing of all.

Absolutely adorable, beautifully illustrated and an instant children's classic.

Although at times the narrative ran dry (and certainly much longer than necessary). The characters were slightly flat and the most compelling (and pivotal) characters were left out except for brief cameos (Dilys Kite and Will Burroughs). However, Ghostwatch was redeemed by its excellent, well-researched historical asides. Without question, the several pages devoted to the history of European glassmaking and the techniques necessary for glassware were the strongest and most interesting in the book. The appendices containing Newton's notes on how to do everything from mix a dye appropriate for painting dead bodies to how to catch fish should not be missed.

Perhaps the books would have been better served if the speculation plot and last-minute conspiracy were removed and we were left with a solid historical exploration of Newton and his contemporary Cambridge. Nevertheless, Ghostwatch was entertaining and certainly piqued my interest.

The closest thing that clinical genetics has to a pocket reference – this text is invaluable for the general pediatrician, pediatric neurologist or medical geneticist in training. Unlike many other dysmorphology texts, The Bedside Dysmorphologist categorizes traits by body part, helping to shape the approach to diagnosis.

While widely considered the ur-textbook for genetic syndromes presenting with dysmorphology, Smith is invaluable as a reference, but limited as a textbook.

The epitome of Klass' work – a pedantic and often obnoxious narrative voice overlying the fantasies and fears that are, in fact ubiquitous among medical trainees. After reading this I knew that I wasn't the first to secretly desire running off to practice medicine in some rural third-world country – not out of benevolence, but to be able to utilize history and physical skills, without any pesky high technology to ruin my intellectual fun and I now know that I share the mixed dread and exhilaration boarding an aircraft knowing that they may call “Is someone on board a doctor?”
Klass is maybe the most renowned medical writer and although she is far from the best, she never fails to entertain.

Sometimes cynical, sometimes self-aggrandizing and often self-contradictory the read is very uneven, but overall an enlightening and occasionally even instructional presentation of the best tools that we can bring to the bedside to approach our patients.