Zach

3.5 StarsI'm not slamming this book at all when I say that it feels like Disney is trying to cash in on the popularity of Jeftoon's Twisted Princess stories. There was more than one moment when I caught glimpses of imagery similar to that– the tiger claw marks, Jasmine nearly turning to the dark side definitely made me think of Jeftoons and other iterations of “dark Disney”.But I'm definitely not putting the book down for it. Braswell writes an engaging plotline that will probably have young and new adults fascinated. She doesn't skimp on the violence– the plotline follows an altered timeline, where Jafar gains the lamp and wishes and becomes sultan, and people die, sometimes in horrible ways (and the things Disney allowed her to do to Genie and the Carpet startled me). But there are still some funny and very human bits.Also, a very pleased nod for the occasional acknowledgements of Aladdin's origins (his street rat friends are named for other characters in 1001 Nights, and there are a few other bits where Braswell alluded to middle eastern origin of the story). It's no [a:Saladin Ahmed 4025591 Saladin Ahmed https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1325700680p2/4025591.jpg], but it has its moments.

Ugh. Just go read Alice in Wonderland– that's a book about a smart young girl trapped in a creepy world, who has an adventure.

THIS is a book about a cardboard cutout of a character who makes little to no choices on her own and is pointlessly obsessed with two dudes, neither of whom seem to have any redeeming qualities.

Like most short story anthologies, a bit uneven, but much more good than bad.

I mean, I read these on his blog, back when he first started blogging about them. But Fred's insights are just as entertaining and informative now as they were back then.

I still can't get over the fact that Pratchett had written himself a way for there to be female wizards in the third damn book and then NEVER WROTE THEM AGAIN. WHY.

I feel like Equal Rites exemplifies the problems I have always had with Discworld's Victorian-esque framing, where women are always having to “go against cultural norms” to get anything done (unless they're a witch, but even the witches are constrained by the narrative into very particular maiden/mother/crone roles.) Pratchett confronted that framing head-on here, but still couldn't let Esk solve her situations without a boy helping, and we never ever see her actually taking part and learning AS a wizard. And the intramural wizard/witch classes are never brought up again. So the egalitarian concepts he introduces are dropped for the rest of the series in a way that bugs me.

I'm trying to remind myself that this was the third book, and it shows (his plot isn't as tight, there's significantly less world building than I'm used to), but since this general sexism is an issue I've noticed in reading the rest of the series, this early piece really helped clarify the things that I've been bugged by in the rest of the Discworld framing.

From what I can tell a decent translation. After the first couple of sections I started skipping the commentary at the beginning, though.

Oh my LORD, Cal. Get the fuck over yourself and your emo bullshit.

YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME LIKE THAT.

This book was a solid three stars for me most of the way through.

The essays ranged a bit in quality, and Kumar absolutely shined when he turned his intellect outward. His discussion with Arudhati Roy, the boxer on the flight, and the essays on Kashmir were strong and hit hard. His contemplations on writing tended to be more hit and miss, as I find most writers writing about writing tend to be. The weakest essay in the book was his piece on ten rules of being a writer– it felt very self-satisfied, and that obsession with self pops up in a number of the essays in ways that got on my nerves.

And then I hit the last essay and legitimately started sniffling in public. The books started on a strong note and left me with a lasting emotional impression.

A solid 3.5 star book. It's one of the few New York-based paranormal stories I've seen with a cast that actually reflects the ethnic makeup of the city, a bonus for which I can forgive some weakness in the denouement. I would have liked more in-depth world building and solid characterization, but this was some frothy fun.

For teens who enjoy CSI– I keep thinking of this series as “Criminal Minds: the Younger Years”. While I could do without some of the pointlessly obvious relationship drama, the interaction between the characters is really what makes this a compelling series.

I wanted to like it– Queer women of color, Jews everywhere and dragons? But it just felt a little thin. No one really got much character development or world building. I'll probably try the sequel because the idea is cool enough, but the book wasn't very strong all things considered.

Too dang British and a little too full of himself for my taste– there was way too much colonialist “when I was out in Africa”, too little of a narrative through-line. But entertaining enough in its way.

Time to get away from the American/British magical detective, oh THANK THE LORD. I wanted more, I want a sequel. Man, do I love this book. Finally, someone using non-Western mythology and supernatural creatures, plus queer protagonists, plus set in a city that isn't New York, London, Chicago or San Francisco, plus an author who ALSO doesn't live in Britain or America, PLUS amazing prose.

It is all wrapped up in a little ball with a ribbon JUST FOR ME. Hooray! This is one of those books that I buy copies of to give to my friends.

I can't judge people disliking the book because they dislike the author, because I tend not to bother reading books by people I dislike. But I do have to roll my eyes at the people posting one-star reviews just because they dislike the author outside of this. (TBF, in the current controversy over this author, most of the people raging against Sriduangkaew were on my Not To Read Because They're Racist As Hell list before this blow-up, so I find the whole situation fairly ironic.)

My partner turned me on to John Conolly ages ago, and I've never been given reason to regret the suggestion. This particular installment made me wish I'd reread the rest of the series beforehand (there were a touch too many callbacks and references for me to keep track of), it was enjoyable in a unique way. The Charlie Parker series itself ties together mystery, thriller, horror and urban fantasy in a way that no one else does, and although I rarely enjoy series that let the metaplot take over the mystery elements, Connolly never lets the focus drift too much– the mystery is part of the metaplot and vice versa.

I was actually really glad for what happened to Charlie halfway through the book. At this point in the series, the fact that Charlie is central to the plot but not central to the worldbuilding means that the universe Connolly is building feels richer deeper than just “what this one detective feels and does”, which is an unfortunate trap that a lot of long-series authors fall into.

This is a bad place for a new reader to pick up the series, but it's a pretty great installment for fans.

This is the sort of book my partner would appreciate more than me, honestly. I enjoyed it and I know logically that it is well-written, well-put together, paced well with engaging characters and is, in every way technically perfect. Ken Liu's translation keeps the flavor of the original while making the book understandable to a Western audience.

That said, I'm terrible at physics and there was more than one moment where my eyes glazed over because what even are they talking about? Me and science just don't mesh well.

On the other hand, I enjoyed it enough that I plan to buy a physical copy and look forward to the sequels. Even someone without a strong science focus can find many things to enjoy in Cixin;s work.

I tend to prefer short story anthologies with multiple authors, but those can sometimes be a crapshoot, with great stories and terrible ones side by side. Reading an anthology entirely by one person gives you a glimpse into their mind and their preoccupations in a way little else can, but run the risk of becoming extremely samey.

In the case of Johnson, I was startled to see the ease with which he switched settings and cultures– jumping from Pacific Islanders to faux Germanic, to modern America, to a future where refugees from the Roman era appear. The sheer diversity of stories and concepts (Superman is dying, A jewish doctor searches for a way for his people to survive, a Chinese chef tries to figure out how to make his father's ghost move on, a Pacific Islander whose islands are now underwater creates VR memories) is dazzling.

On the whole it's a solid piece, Johnson's themes (memory, cultural continuity, passage of time and people) are clear, tying the stories together into something that leaves a strong impact, while his skill at creating memorable settings gives him room to create a body of work that is grand in scope.

It's a book written by a white American man in 1903 for the white Americans back home so that they could get a taste of ~exotic~ India. I probably shouldn't have to point out that it was colonialist, patronizing, and judgmental about the stupidest things. I was expecting that going in. I read it and read the entire way through because I wanted to get a good feeling for the relationships and politics of the time, and there were certain historical bits of information that I wasn't aware of thrown in. But the guy had a boner for numbers and the lists of census numbers got really tiresome.

Still, it's a historical perspective of British India that might be useful as long as you're taking it with a HUGE grain of salt.

The first book in the series to focus on the male love interest, I found Iron Knight to be a fascinating exploration, after getting frustrated at Megan for being a moron so often, I got to get annoyed at Ash for being a moron. I think my main quibble with the book series in general, and this one in particular is that Ash is several centuries old and Puck at least a millennium, but neither of them act more than seventeen. It gets frustrating.

That said, it was fun in a way that I sometimes didn't find the earlier books. Megan was often held back by her insecurity about her abilities, but neither Ash nor Puck are inhibited that way, so there's a certain amount of action hero agency that the male characters were allowed that Megan didn't always get.

All in all an enjoyable end to the series.

A semiautobiographical book by and about a princess coming out of the tail end of India's princely system. It's mainly supposed to be about ayurvedic and natural health tips, and those abound, but I was mostly reading it for the fascinating insights into the community of women within the zenana, and a first-person look at the Indian community as it came out of the colonial era. The author more than once notes that this book is a little disorganized, but I'm okay with that. I wasn't reading it for the recipes (interesting as they were), so much as the the folklore and and historical aspects. It was beautifully written, eliciting strong emotions and sense sensations, as well as contrasting and rebutting Eurocentric beauty ideals and sociopolitical ideas. It was an illuminating look into the tail-end of an era, and the writer was so wonderfully friendly that I wish I could meet her and ask her questions.

It's a Seanan book so it's technically well-written, with a cute, but kick-ass, femme-with-masculine-interests white female protagonist. But it's not one of her better ones. There's a lot of repetition, and not just in the “ooooh, symbolism” sort of way. More like “I'm trying to be symbolic and can't think of any other words for this”. Several characters receive extremely short shrift– they're used as plot devices in really annoying ways (Laura in particular, although Tommy and Emma are close behind). My irritation is not helped by the fact that I am really not a fan of the romanticized aesthetic of the blue collar, 1950s truck stop thing.

And I would give my left ear for McGuire to stop with the Japanese woman/Snow White thing. This is the second time, SEANAN. Cut it out already. Not all Japanese women look like Sadako.

Despite my annoyance, I finished the book, so I guess it's decent enough.

It's a Harlequin TEEN novel about a half-human fairy princess, there's not much to say. I like the characters (albeit some more than others). Being a paranormal romance, the plot occasionally drags for long drawn out “woe is me, I want him to love me, and oh by the way, Puck loves me too WOE”. But when Megan does get down to business, it's a pretty great little romp.

Beveridge has written a fairly engaging book on the motifs of Norse and Celtic folktales, mythological cycles and possible pagan religious concepts. She has a tendency to get a little purple prose-y talking about her preferred folktales (it's always “starkly haunting” or some such) and sometimes it can get frustrating when she discusses two nearly identical stories several chapters apart, but the research is solid, and the history is fascinating. She says that she chose Norse and Celtic stories mainly for practical reasons– both communities actually managed to save a decent portion of their folk stories– and I believe it, since despite the similarities, she never seems to really want to discuss the whys and hows of those similarities. The book is not hyper-academic, but it's definitely thoughtful and I learned plenty about the history of salvaging pagan stories in the context of fairy tales.

A weird satire of science fiction and religious thought, set during the 1950s, with obligatory headnods towards McCarthy and Buck Rogers. A science fiction writer for a Buck Rogers-type show learns that logical positivist lobster aliens really really like his show, and then has to conspire to pull the wool over their eyes when they decide to vaporize the two million viewers of a religious drama on the same channel. The dialogue feels a little too snappy at times– it's very hyper-stylized. But once I started reading it I didn't really want to stop even when I rolled my eyes at some of the author's phrasing. Also, this book read to me as very Jewish at times, despite the fact that the plot revolves around a Christian soap drama.

I've read a few too many superhero novels in the past couple of months for this to be anything more than middling for me. The pacing was too condensed for the story it was trying to tell, and the characters are never really explored in enough depth to make me actually care much about them. It feels like it's trying to be V.E. Schwab's “Vicious” for a younger set, but the petty teenage dramas take precedence over the government/global thriller without giving much insight into the protagonist or the antagonists. It's a decent story, but it would probably have been better as a two or three-part series, because as it is, it gives short shrift to both the internal and external drama.