Sean

I haven't got much to say, but I am enjoying these books very much. I can't wait for volume 3.

I read it at the suggestion of a co-worker whose tastes often agree with mine, and I liked it. I had a pleasant evening with it. I shan't be reading the next volume, though, I think. ... I enjoyed the story, the art, the conceit of a somewhat-self-consciously D&D type world. All good stuff. i just get tired of the growing trend of everything being as crude as possible and everything being just like what the reader already knows. I rather miss a bit of nobility, a bit of exoticness in personalities. Sex, drugs, and the word “fuck” get to be real boring after a while, and I'm about at my limit. But other than that, I liked it.

A worthy continuation of the story. There are surprises and plot twists as always, of course, but the philosophical underbed continues to be the main draw. The exploration of story, collective unconscious, and myth-making is intriguing, but best of all is how utterly the story itself, not just the discussion of “story,” draws me in. I must keep reading.

I liked it very much and yet I found it oddly unsatisfying. I haven't the time to create the review I would like (and the elderly cat who is sleeping in my arms makes typing difficult), so I will confine myself to a few notes.
1. I am amazed at how contemporary the 1965 world sounds to me. I was very young the year the book was published, and that was a long time ago, but the descriptions do not have the “long ago, far away” feel I would have expected. Yes, there were a few jarring notes (Oedipa today would never say “fag,” for example), but for the most part it felt quite modern to me.
2. I become impatient with what seems like verbal cuteness for its own sake. Weirdness that makes sense to the author but doesn't make sense to me, is just affected. I write that way all the time, and I need to stop. Thanks, Mr. Pynchon, for that reminder.
3. When he is not being excessively fey and preciously clever, his use of words is remarkable and sometimes beautiful. This book was, on most pages, a pleasure to read.

The last book I finished, the day before beginning this one, was the Brothers Karamazov, so there is a bit of a clash. The artwork of Saga definitely wins.

I very much enjoyed this, and I plan to read the next volume, but I do get tired of books that take place far and away but which sound exactly like the people I listen to every day. I like my fantasy and science fiction books to take me away, and that includes the culture, the language, the whole feel. Sadly, Vaughan is firmly committed to sounding and being utterly and only a product of the decade. His writing will sound very dated soon. But it's a fun story!

I'm not going to attempt a review–the book's too big and I have only just finished it for the first time. I will confine myself to a few reactions.
1. I LOVE IT!
2. Dostoyevsky has written one of the world's great books.
3. I will be reading it again.
4. This is one of the most psychologically accurate, perceptive, and honest things I have read in a long time. Or ever.
5. I LOVE IT!
6. Everybody was right who told me to read it. I was wrong to wait so long.
7. Wow. I am, to be honest, speechless, so I will shut up for now. Maybe later I will be able to write intelligently about this book.
8. Thank you, Fyodor Dostoyevsky.

I liked it. The art is fetching–old-timey and charming, with nice clear lines. (I am borderline graphically illiterate, and I have a hard time with muddy lines.) Really, it is beautiful to look at. The conceit, that Solitude appears to the loner protagonist as a blue bird, is intriguing and interesting. I enjoyed it for that, and because I could identify with the poor little mouse who just wanted to be left alone to write. Sadly, as a story, it did what many stories in graphic format seem to do–it faded away at the end with no discernible meaning. What started off so strong and clear ended up ... well, if the pictures had done what the story itself did, the colors would have run together and the lines would have gotten all fuzzy. This is not a complaint about the book itself. I see that sort of thing in many recent books and I suspect that much of the problem lies with me.

I enjoyed the book and would highly recommend it to anybody who likes good art serving a good story. Perhaps you will be better adept at finding meaning in the ending that I.

Reading this is an odd experience. The protagonist, whom we are supposed to love and admire, according to the author, is a cowardly cad and nothing good can be said for him. His lady love, whom we also should love, is a self absorbed twat. The only characters who did their jobs as they ought, who acted on their commitments, are the three evil barons whom we are intended to hate and despise, and who probably were in fact self-righteous and tedious bores. As for the author, he is either willfully blind to the absurdities of what he is saying or else he is an idiot.

And yet the book is deservedly a classic and a source-point of much important European and English literature. It entertained me and I enjoyed reading it.

I respect St. Basil personally and as a major figure in the Christian Tradition, but reading this book made me wish our Fathers spent as much time demonstrating a compassionate attitude toward their opponents as they did demolishing their arguments. Yes, I understand the role of dogma in the Christian Faith, I really do. But at this stage in my life, I look around and think that if we had laid foundations of “Compassion at any cost!” rather than “Correctness at any cost!” we could still have developed correct theology and also prevented much of the Us vs Them mentality that infects the Church today.

So – bravo to St. Basil and thank God for using Basil's intellect to guide the Church into the understanding of God that we have been given. I love the book for that reason. But it makes me a bit sad at times.

Such a simple idea. To hear the premise explained would surely cause one to say, “Oh, I could do that. My child could do that.” Arndt takes one simple shape and adds the letters of the onomatopoeia word representing the sound the animal makes and creates a picture of the animal. But when you compare the simplicity of the idea with the absolute perfection (and I use that word advisedly) of the execution, you see what “genius” really means. This is an absolutely delightful book, one which has brought a smile to every adult I have shown it to. [My favorite thing about sharing is watching people's fingers get involved, picking out the letters.]

I enjoyed it very much. Although I am far past the target age, back when I was that age this would have been one of favorite books. In fact, I enjoyed it so much that if I didn't have 200 more titles on my to be read list, I would read the rest of the series.

I really have nothing to say about this. It is not something I would normally read or enjoy. I read it only because it was on a Nook I checked out and I was finding out what it is like to read comics/graphic novels on an e-reader.

I guess if one were into manga about young ladies having dream-sex with demons it would be OK, perhaps.

I honestly do not know how to think about this book. I love it, of course. It is very important, of course. And now I can say I have read it. It was not quite the book I was expecting, though I am not able to say precisely how it differs from what I thought it would be, and from what I wish it had been.

I very much appreciate Frankl's logotherapy, with its insistence that the will to meaning is foundational. I suspect one gets a better picture of humans if one combines the drives for pleasure, power, and meaning into one picture, and so I am loathe to say that Frankl is right and Freude and Adler were wrong. But if I were forced to pick one model from which to view myself and others, it would have to be Frankl's.

The only Percy Jackson story I have read, and I read it because I wanted to experience a comic/gn on an e-reader. I enjoyed the story, appreciated the art (which was quite striking in places), and especially like the comics mode way of reading this on a device. I would consider reading more of these stories if I had nothing else to read.

Without a doubt, the funniest book I never actually laughed out loud while reading. But I spent the entire time pleasantly and quietly chuckling inside, where it counts.

I have known all the characters, every one. I never lived in New Orleans, so those who say the book is entirely place-dependant are not quite right; but I did grow up in Houston, and for some purposes that may be close enough. But no matter where, be it Texas, California, or Washington, these very real persons are findable.

Toole was a genius. I'm sad he is gone, but I am grateful for his gift to readers.

Lo

I really appreciate Katz's insistence that fermenting is not difficult. It is (almost) the most natural thing in the world. I have been making sauerkraut since before I ever heard if Katz's book, but was a bit nervous about branching out. He gave me permission to try anything and everything. Couple that brave example with some great information and interesting recipes/suggestions, and it makes for a worthwhile book.

Although it reminded me of why I don't read many books aimed at a young teen audience, I enjoyed this book quite a bit. It is evangelism for reading–especially for reading good books–and the world could use more of that.

I enjoyed this very much. What a feat, combining all those found photos and making a coherent and utterly gripping story around them! Although it is, I suppose, aimed at teens, I, who have not been a teen for many years, enjoyed the writing and the creativity immensely. The last bit–I stayed up way too late because I could not put the book down.

It wasn't until I found out that there is a sequel that I realized a reaction other than sheer enjoyment. When I read that there was another book, I thought something very much like, “Oh, no thank you. I'm stuffed. I couldn't [eat another bite/read another word].” The writing and storytelling are dense and rich, and enough is enough for now.

AAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH! the web site ate my review!!!!!!

Burkeman presents the reader with a negative way of thinking about happiness. By abandoning the active quest for and overt quest for happiness, he suggests, we can redefine happiness as a state that includes death and other losses and sadnesses. He examines Stoicism, Buddhism, the Mexican Day of the Dead celebration, to create an approach to happiness that is more realistic, and therefore more useful, that the “happy happy joy joy” approach of the motivational speakers and popular American/British culture. Not a great book, but a very good and useful one.

I like it, although it was not what I was hoping for. Hahn does a good job of telling the slightly informed Catholic something about the glories of the depths of the liturgy of the Eucharist using the book of the Revelation to St. John as a framework and touchpoint. What he does not do, which I was hoping for, is explain the structure of that book as reflecting the outline of the liturgy. That's OK; I don't fault an author for writing the book he actually wrote rather than the one I wish he had.

This is a very approachable treatment, which should be understandable to any concerned person–no degree in liturgics required. He writes with intelligence and dignity, but mars it with the cutsie chapter titles and section heads.

Unbelievably beautiful art and a rich, poignant tale. I love it.

As a mystery it was good. I enjoyed the ride to the surprising conclusion. I admit–I solved it! Ha! About two sentences before the reveal. I guess that doesn't count.

But of more importance than the mystery, of course, is the whole trilogy's question, “What would you do, really do, if the world were about to end?” (Perhaps we can translate that into “What would you do if you were going to die some day?”) I like Palace's answer.

What an odd book. It purports to be “a work of Metaphysical Fantasy.” That's right there in the Publisher's Note, which should have been called the Warning, right up front. It seems almost to say, “Warning! You are probably not adequate for this book. Turn back now if you are looking for entertainment. Only brave philosophers will understand and appreciate this book.” The “About the Author” at the end continues the smug theme. His work is described as “bizarre, mind-bending, and (some might say) heretical.” Who, please, would say “heretical”? There is no orthodoxy in our society to depart from; we have carefully removed the possibility of heresy years ago. All ideas are fair play.

And the truth is, I'm not sure what the idea that would be called heretical is. Yes, he posits that the Creator of our world is crazy, but that is only slightly more brave than simply declaring that there is no God at all. Maybe it is a sad thing, but I believe we have reached a point where that is not “heresy” or even anything to be taken seriously.

But simply stop looking for metaphysical insights and you are in for a treat. The story-telling is smooth and engaging. The atmosphere is genuinely interesting and novel. Best of all is Grey-Sun's handling of the unsettling and confusing psychedelic experiences of the main character, Robert. He handles the conflicting and shifting boundaries between “real” and absurd with a deftness that left me in awe. There is no gimmick to mark the onset of weirdness. It just happens. Grey-Sun resists the temptation to be precious and overblown with the psychedelia. Instead, he writes about the oddest and most surreal experiences imaginable in a way that seems utterly believable.

Don't read this for metaphysical insight, but do read it to enjoy a master of his craft doing a little slight of pen that may leave you spellbound. I will most certainly recommend it to a few fans of Science Fiction and surrealism who appreciate attending to masterful use of the language and careful structure, those who can appreciate a book for the author's admirable craft.

[I read an ARC.]