Shawn Rider
Midnight in Soap Lake weaves together a solid mystery with environmental themes. It is a fast-paced thriller with far more deaths than I expected. At times it feels like a “cozy” mystery, but it extends itself into unexpected and interesting territory to present a novel that is far more political and insightful than it might seem on first glance.
I appreciate Sullivan's prose, which drives the story consistently forward and does not get mired in self-admiration. The narrative is constructed elegantly, weaving together the events of the two main characters' lives. Details return at key moments to keep things tied together without feeling contrived. Much of the magic of the story is just the coincidental nature of things happening, and balancing those coincidences with events that are very much determined.
The details and structure of the mystery were satisfying, but unpredictable. There is a good amount of science both directly discussed and assumed/implied by the narrative, which added a super modern twist. With the events that wrap up the story in mind, it is easy to read this novel as a deceptively insightful portrayal of our late stage hypercapitalist dystopia / environmental catastrophe. To some extent that is made obvious by the plot, but Sullivan is clearly aware of deeper trends and issues in the areas of commercial agriculture, climate change, and modern environmentalism, which holds everything together within the bounds of believability.
In all, this is a very good read. It is enjoyable on many levels and rewards contemplation.
It is impossible to convey the experience of reading The Book of Night Women. It is not an “easy” read, but it is compelling and difficult to put down, even when it is at its most repulsive. The reader should go in prepared to confront some dark events, but the reward is one of the best novels ever written.
James is a talented writer, and some of his hallmark qualities are on display in The Book of Night Women. He handles dialect like a master, never breaking or confusing dialect, but easily moving between formal and informal language when needed. The multiple points of view echo Seven Killings and even aspects of the Darkstar Trilogy. The brutality and cruelty of the world is also directly confronted, something any reader of James' novels will recognize. It is not exploitive, but it is certainly extreme.
Of course, the entire cultural context of the novel is extreme: colonial Jamaica was just as harrowing and complicated as any British colony. As one expects from a James novel, no character is all good, all bad, or indifferent. Each character is well-rounded, complex, and sympathetic. The protagonist, Lillith, experiences an emotional roller coaster similar to the reader. The actions, words, and whims of the characters are laced with double-meanings and deeper emotional content. Like Lillith, the reader is forced to recognize, or at least deal with, the humanity and inhumanity of everyone around her.
Like with many other James novels, Lillith is not entirely (or always) sympathetic. The book tells the story of her growing from adolescence to womanhood, and she goes through a petulant phase early on that lets the reader know they do not need to always agree with Lillith's words or actions. And as she learns to read more deeply the world around her, so does the reader learn to interpret the words of the novel.
The Book of Night Women is an achievement on par with Faulkner, Morrison, or Walker. It is epic not so much in the scope of its timeline, but in the depth of its exploration of the late colonial moment. It is a character study, a historical fiction, a romance, and a horror story – all at once. It is a novel that demands a large emotional investment from the reader, and repays that investment with a resonant experience that will linger long after the book is closed.
It is rare to get a book that seems simultaneously so experimental and so accessible. Everything about it is much more clever than it appears. The plot is a deft satire of the future of for-profit prison enslavement. It calls to mind other stories and tropes we have seen before: Running Man, the Roman “bread and circus” stories, films like Spartacus, and many more. It would be easy for the novel to be like those precursors, but it becomes much more.
In Chain-Gang All-Stars characters are fully rounded and made sympathetic, even when they represent the worst that humanity has to offer. It is a romance as much as an action novel, and one that manages to include fictional (and non-fictional) footnotes that add to the reading. It is as poetic and beautiful as it is violent and gruesome. The balance of opposites that Adejei-Brenyah creates in the novel lends weight to every description and action.
Shifting between a set of perspectives throughout the book, we are given internal dialogue and first-person narratives of many characters. We see the world not only through the eyes of the “Links” who participate in the gladatorial combat of the Circuit, but also through the eyes of spectators and members of the controlling organization. We are led to discover the many ways these games affect people in the society by sympathizing with characters and feeling their experience.
Throughout the novel, Adjei-Brenyah includes footnotes. Many of these are fictional, explaining details about the fictional world. However, many of these are non-fictional and reference real cases, statistics, and history. The entire concept of the novel is based on the core of truth that is our present-day for-profit prison system: The 13th Ammendment allows for slavery within prison walls in the US, and as we contract out those prisons to private corporations we turn over control of our justice and reform efforts to giant corporations who get rich by putting people in prison.
In spite of all of these unique qualities that may make an ordinary novel didactic or shallow, Adjei-Brenyah puts it all together into an incredible package. The prose is clear and minimal. There are incredibly poetic phrases and scenes and plot points that demonstrate Adjei-Brenyah's command of the written form, and he has no need to show off by adding unnecessary flourish.
The story is fast and the book reads smoothly, in spite of the graphic violence and harrowing stories. It is a sort of road story, and as such it keeps the reader moving along. It compelled me to keep going by virtue of the characterization and wanting to see how all the threads of different characters' stories intersected.
In the end, I am immensely satisfied. It is not a “happy” or “fun” book, but it is most definitely a very good book. I encourage everyone to read, enjoy, and engage.
A well-assembled oral history with lots of interesting information. A great object lesson in how sometimes learning more the iconoclasts of the past makes them look much worse in retrospect. There is no way to excuse this bunch of Nazi-fetishizing, racist, sexist, douchebags (inclusive of the women and men). Anyone who thinks punk rock was founded on a progressive social justice attitude needs to read this. There are a lot of things to appreciate about the music these folks produced, and the way in which they opened doors for more truly revolutionary ideas to come through.
To me, one of the most telling illustrations of what I mean is the ongoing narrative about how Malcolm McLaren pushed the New York Dolls into “fake communist” outfits and pagentry. So many of the interviewees are upset about infusing politics into the music and making the Dolls look “queer” and Communist at the same time. However, they all happily dressed themselves up in Nazi memorabilia and swastika t-shirts. It was so prevalent that I started noting every time somebody talked affectionately about having or producing some Nazi-related item. It is very clear: “gay and commie” was bad; “straight hedonistic Nazi” was good.
I'm glad times have changed. I can enjoy a lot of the music from this era and appreciate how it led to music and artists who continue to push the boundaries of social acceptance and who have broadened the mandate of punk rock to include social justice. In the end, it is all just rock and roll. It's not meant to be your mom and dad.
This is a remarkably strong band memoir about a remarkably interesting band. It makes sense that NOFX would approach their story this way, allowing the individuals to do their thing while also leaning heavily on each other to pull it all together. Very highly recommended for anyone who enjoyed NOFX, and a great glimpse into the turbulent 90s-2000s in punk rock for anyone interested in the scene. NOFX have been able to walk the line between immature tricksters and serious advocates for freedom and underdogs. The same self-critical lens they apply in their music is applied in their interviews for the book, allowing some distance from past events and some recognition where things were not always laudable. This book is well worth reading, and packed with interesting anecdotes about NOFX and many other bands.
Once again David Katz brings an encyclopedic knowledge of Reggae and Jamaican history to the table and has put together a compelling biography of the legend, Jimmy Cliff. Cliff's story is incredibly interesting, from his roots in rural Jamaica to his role as an advocate for Jamaican and African people, freedom, and self-direction. He is among a legendary group of musicians (with Fela Kuti, Bob Marley, and others) who achieved global status as revolutionaries fighting for people everywhere. His songs reflect both the optimism and the tragedy of the struggle of all people against oppression, slavery, and violence.
This is a really incredible novel, full of drama and alive with such vivid portrayal of a world not often seen in western fiction. Age of Vice is incredibly accessible, evoking the same kind of epic crime/family/crime-family drama as The Godfather series, but with a modern Indian setting that is immediately compelling. The stories of Ajay, Sunny, Neda, and the rest, are wonderfully/tragically intertwined, and this book conveys those narratives with verve and charm.
Kapoor is an incredible writer. Her work is both minimal and “clean” – she rarely wastes a word. It is also lucid and flexible, veering from timeline to timeline, character to character, and often revisiting events from multiple perspectives. The result is a novel that keeps the reader moving quickly, even when revealing the complex relationships and motivations that build the events of the plot. Where other authors may engage in long segments of narrative psychoanalysis to convey similar complications, Kapoor keeps the reader in the moment and reveals each piece over time in a way that allows the reader to realize the larger story without being burdened by it.
I think it helps, and is no spoiler, to let readers know that this must be part of a series (I have read that it will be a trilogy on a discussion forum, but can't find any corroborating evidence). The ending is not so much a “cliffhanger” as “not.” It just doesn't really end. It's hard to say that it is unsatisfying, because the reader has experienced a whole lifetime of events with these characters (and the book is quite long, tho it moves quickly). It isn't really unsatisfying unless there is just never any more. Based on the response to this novel, I have to hope there will be a sequel (or trilogy) forthcoming.
Regardless of the abrupt ending, Age of Vice is one of the best books I've read this year.
The Female Man is a novel that feels less revolutionary as time goes on in terms of content, but which still pushes the limits of narrative conventions and approach. It is reminiscent of This is How You Lose the Time War with its time-and-space jumping narrative. It feels almost quaint in some ways with strains of early feminism, but still holds up as a deeply transgressive novel. It is not always the most fun to read, but it sticks with you and grows over time.
Dilla was a formative person in hip hop through the 90s and early 2000s, and his influence remains and evolves. I learned a lot in this book because so much of Dilla's work was done under The Ummah moniker and he did not receive due recognition in the early part of his career. By the time he began to get his honorables as a founder of a whole vibe of hip hop and soul he was also being wracked by a terrible blood disease that left him on kidney dialysis. It's a sad ending to an otherwise charmed life.
The story of a kid who just really loved making beats managing to shape the whole music world is definitely compelling, even if Dan Charnas' writing is not so much. Some of the prose was a slog, and other parts felt like a remedial music workbook. I could not tell if Charnas was aiming at a YA audience interested in a career in music/recording, or if he just has a low estimation of his readers.
This is a story that would be better told in an epic documentary. Luckily, Hulu just released one. Skip the book and watch “The Legacy of J Dilla” instead.
Another foundational book from Kropotkin. This underscores the natural and necessary concept of “mutual aid” and how it is a factor in our evolution as a species. Once again, I'm impressed by Kropotkin's progressive ideas and it is fun to dip into his contemporary examples. Tho some of the science has aged, his primary points remain intact: Nature enforces cooperation as often (or even more often?) as competition. Our history shows clear examples where we have made leaps of civilization thanks to cooperation. This book gives a book like Dawn of Everything a clear heritage.
This was an incredible book. It is challenging, but rewarding. Marlon James pulls off a hybrid Pynchon/Faulkner move that is phenomenally engaging. As a historical fiction, it presents a unique perspective and style. It was no surprise when I finished and read James' Acknowledgements that he mentions As I Lay Dying as an inspiration. Of course, he winks towards that late in the book by restating the Faulkner quote, “The past is never dead. It's not even past.”
James tells stories surrounding and extending from the assassination attempt on Bob Marley and the Wailers prior to the Smile Jamaica concert in 1976. This is a legendary event, covered in many documentaries and often blown to mythic proportions: Marley and the band overcame their wounds to play an epic set and the crowd swarmed the stage to provide body shields for them. This is a great event to hang the narrative on, and James weaves in the socio-political history in a way that is both highly personal and globally aware.
It is impossible to go into all of the reasons why A Brief History of Seven Killings is a truly amazing achievement. It is stylistically rich, balancing language and perspective with strong characterization and subtle symbology (and not-so-subtle in some cases). In terms of plot, it takes inspiration from the very best combinations of political and cultural novels. It weaves a complicated web of intrigue and motives and traces ripples from the intimate interactions to the broader effects. The story portrays a trail of political and criminal intrigue from post-WWII CIA interference in South America, through to the proxy Cold War engagements in the Carribbean, and then into the cities of Miami and New York.
This is not an easy book to read – much of it is written in patois dialect and James expects a reader to stay sharp and keep up. It is not something I would read over a vacation, but I was able to wear it like a warm sweater over a longer time than I usually require to read the same number of pages. Like many of the great works it references and takes inspiration from, the novel transcends the act of reading and becomes an immersive experience that, for me, realizes the best feelings of reading. This is a book with weight, and it feels good to work my muscles by carrying it.
Another collection of short stories from Saunders is a good thing. The stories here are unmistakably Saunders, preoccupied with the lessers of the world and the biggers of their worries. With more formal experimentation (vibes of Bardo...), these stories range from traditional to more experimental forms and perspectives. It is always fun to read Saunders playing with these things. Several stories hinge on shifting POVs doing a Rashomon style narrative.
All said, tho, I'm not sure this is Saunders at his best. (To be fair, “not at his best” for Saunders is still quite good, in general.) These are all very good stories, but they have close analogs in previous Saunders collections. “Ghoul” and “Liberation Day” have echoes of “Civilwarland in Bad Decline”; “A Thing at Work” feels like several previous workplace stories from previous collections. Standouts are certainly “A Mom of Bold Action” and “Mother's Day”, both of which illustrate a pathos and perspective that is touching and effective.
Nonetheless, this is a solid collection of good stories. Saunders continues to be a master of prose and guru of dialogue. His language is minimal and profound. And he continues to excel at the short form, giving each story enough meat to satisfy, without overworking the unique qualities that make his work enjoyable.
An excellent anthology of short fiction from authors, many of whom who have continued to grow in importance since publication. From Louise Erdrich, Leslie Marmon Silko, and Joy Harjo to Paula Gunn, Linda Hogan, and many others, these stories explore a huge breadth of Native American writing and stories. I came searching for more work by Patricia Riley, who is not widely published, but who made an impact on me during my college years. Her stories here, “Damping Down the Road” and “Wisteria,” are touching and clear, and this is easier to find than other publications of them. Highly recommend this as a time capsule of a group of women who made a distinctive mark on literary history.
I always knew there was strife in the Ramones and that Joey was the troubled sensitive one, Johnny was the secret right-winger, and everyone else was on drugs. Johnny Ramone's autobiography confirms those impressions and offers some first-hand memories from one of punk rock's pioneers. However, sometimes the art is greater than the artist, and reading this book is like listening to Al Bundy lecture you about what's wrong with kids these days. I appreciate Johnny's dedication to the Ramones as a musical project with a very specific vision. I think their unique and cohesive image/sound and being in the right place at the right time are what catapulted them to fame. Analyzed on almost any metric other than “overall impact,” the Ramones don't rate very well. But this book offers an explanation for that overall impact that seems partially, or maybe even mostly, true.Johnny is a “proud Republican” and lists Sean Hannity and Rush Limbaugh on his “top Republicans” list at the end of the book (guess who is #1). He's a homophobe and bigot, tho he is not particularly venemous or proactive in acting on those views (which is good). He's generally what the world thinks of as a “typical American white guy asshole of the 1980s.” He hates France the most, likes Italy for the food, and thinks Europe doesn't have enough English language TV. He's the kind of guy that will sit in the van while everyone else visits Stonehenge just because he thinks rocks are stupid, and who will force his girlfriend to do the same.The writing is not good. The insights are not brilliant or unique, you can read all kinds of people saying basically the same thing in books like [b:Our Band Could Be Your Life: Scenes from the American Indie Underground, 1981-1991 29393 Our Band Could Be Your Life Scenes from the American Indie Underground, 1981-1991 Michael Azerrad https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1543095533l/29393.SY75.jpg 522136]. The best quality it has is that it's fast, and there are some cool reproductions of photos and notes. I think that biographers could do a better job illuminating the interesting qualities of Johnny Ramone better than he can himself. He cannot get outside of himself or his own ego. He is so focused on “maintaining frame” (a phrase I'm sure he never heard but would have loved) that he has no perspective on himself or his relationships. The book reads like a very long interview, which, apparently, is basically what it is.Chalk up another example of love the art, but not the artist.
Surprisingly relevant and approachable, this is one I will recommend to others wanting to explore the foundations of Anarchist thinking. Kropotkin outlines a compassionate, pragmatic social revolution that is Utopian and alluring. Using examples contemporary to his time to back up his points it is fascinating to see how many of his concerns (and, presumably, the concerns of others in the working and creative classes) are echoed by concerns of today. I also appreciate his pragmatic logic when it comes to government programs: Sure, everyone will bemoan not having “a government” to keep order, but how often are government officials/policies/procedures a source of “good” for the normal citizen? He points out that often the worst thing we can imagine is the government taking over some function that is much more efficiently executed by existing non-governmental groups. That is a reasoning that rings as loudly today as it did when he wrote it.
I'm surprised it took me so long to learn about Kropotkin, but I'm glad that I did.
This second book in the Burning Throne series carries forward the strong qualities of the first: excellent writing, epic scope, feminine power, Indian fantasy. The characters are strong and well-drawn. Suri walks the line between epic political drama and adventure story.
What I appreciated most about this second book was the way it advanced and repositioned the story to open up a whole new angle for the third book, which I am now super excited to read. Suri deftly weaves in themes that are highly relevant to our time about authority, power, sacrifice, and family to name a few.
Well worth the read!
It has the hallmarks of a T. Kingfisher story, but it lacks some of the appeal somehow. I think part of it is the fact that anyone who has read Fall of the House of Usher basically knows the story, so the mysterious parts are maybe more predictable/anticipated? I pegged the fungi aspect pretty accurately around 40% or so through, which made me feel much less surprised/engaged during the big reveal. There are still a lot of great things about this story, including the protagonist, an animal friend, and a male sidekick. This does fill the need for some reading comfort food, but I'm eager for the next original T. Kingfisher novel.
This was a childhood favorite that I have kept on the shelf all this time. I re-read it as part of the SPL Book Bingo challenge, and it did not disappoint. I can totally see why my younger self enjoyed this: It is smart, wry, and contains some solid action. I love the nerdy teen protagonist and the “bons vivants” aliens. It blends the vibe of a New England ghost story and a Science Fiction thriller. I am recommending this to my kids, who are now the right age to enjoy it.
Rivers Solomon is absolutely one of the most incredible new writers of the past 10 years. Their work is relevant, unique, powerful. They know no boundaries, yet nothing I've read so far sounds like a young author trying to get attention from being outratgeous. Solomon are aware how revolutionary simply being themselves can be, both in fiction and reality. I'm absolutely impressed.
This first novel, which is not the first Solomon novel I've read, is expansive and generation-spanning in one way, yet completely individual and personal in another. It's the story of a multi-generational space voyage hoping to find a new place to settle humanity after, presumably, something terrible has happened to Earth. We are hundreds of years and several generations away from the start of the journey when the novel begins, so piecing together the details of everything is a part of the narrative.
The protagonist, Aster, is a fallible yet admirable character, feeling very congruous with other Solomon characters in later novels/stories. The protagonists are not the same, but they are capable of surprising the reader in similar ways. Solomon is a master of creating unexpected characters and situations, and this novel shows all those abilities on display. It is both an energetic science fiction story that blends hard science and philosophy. It's also a touching character study that creates real emotional significance and embraces a level of ambiguity and realism that most stories fail to achieve. The characterization of Giselle, Theo, Ainy Melusine, and others, highlight the many facets of the narrative and themes Solomon explores.
What I love most about Solomon's work is that it is both easy to get, and remain, engaged with the story, but it's also a story that leaves you thinking about its themes long after you've finished reading. It is an “easy” read, yet it is also something I feel I will be referencing in conversations for years to come thanks to its enduring depiction of so many ideas: labor, class, gender, power, relationships, learning, and more.
Absolutely one of my favorite books I've read this year. DO READ!
The Hollow Places is a fast, engaging read. It manages to bring together a very fun adventure with a modern prose style that keeps it light without veering too far into trendy. It warrants comparisons with Susanna Clarke's “Piranisi” – both books maintain a steady forward momentum that makes them read quickly and somewhat hides the larger themes of the novel behind constant activity. When Hollow Places does slow down, it delivers enough thoughtful consideration to justify the story and help cement themes of family, responsibility, friendship, and cosmic entanglement. I look forward to reading more from T. Kingfisher, and suggest this as a great vacation read.