George D
My intro to the French Sherlock Holmes and I will definitely read more. The Paris of the book feels messy and grey and the inspector is refreshingly human.
Instead of being a super-genius, Maigret is just some guy slowly figuring out the case with plenty of reassessment, mistakes, and double checking of details. Plus the constant references to the Parisian streets and the french lifestyle (you better believe he's going home for lunch) builds this visceral feeling you don't get with Sherlock.
Don't know if it's because of the original author or the translator but the writing itself isn't anything special. To be fair as a Le Carré fanboi I might have impossibly high standards.
It's also a short read, which adds to the pulpy feeling of the experience.
A brilliant expansion of the previous books themes and plot, with some fantastic new additions. Thoroughly entertaining high-concept space opera. It's fun to think about trying to explain this book to someone who has never read science fiction.
The only criticism you could make is that the section where the original crew land on Nod and slowly discover what is happening there is one of the most thrilling and thought-provoking pieces of sci-fi horror ever written. Even though the rest is still great, it's impossible for any book to match the perfection of that section.
A haunting, beautiful book that has you so frustrated with the main character but that frustration just shows how deeply you're invested in his crazy journey.
Sometimes when reading a book I will be laser focussed on where it is going, and what will happen there, that I don't enjoy the book for what it is. Its only after I finish and satisfy that curiosity that I can look back and appreciate the journey that I was on. It is so easy to fall into that trap with this book but luckily I caught myself before the end so I could enjoy it in the moment, rather than only when looking back.
Also thanks to this book I'm now into folk music, I'm literally listening to The Dubliners while writing this. So that's an automatic 5 stars.
I'm a sucker for insanely vivid and viscerally detailed descriptions with the most brazen display of writing ability and that is Alan Moore's bread and butter. It's the closest you can get to seeing pictures while still reading words.
I see why the comics medium appealed to him in the first place.
Some of the stories in here are fantastically high concept, others are good old fashioned small town horror, and his takedown of the comics industry will leave you feeling suitably dirty afterwards.
His most disillusioned book yet, and the books before it weren't exactly rosy. Honestly feels like we're about two books away from le Carré becoming a card-carrying communist.
This is essentially a collection of spy-themed short stories in the format of a man looking back on his career, which also mirrors the decades of gradual Great British decline.
Le Carré takes advantage of the format to tell the kind of stories you couldn't put in a novel. There were definitely a few standouts but it was all solid.
I'm totally biased though to be fair.
A profoundly beautiful book.
I had never read this before, only knew it from the Disney movie. On the surface the two seem pretty similar but it takes a while to realise just how much is changed by those small alterations.
The innocent cruelty of Peter, the vague adolescent attraction, the extended ending. It all works to build this intensely touching story both honouring the joyful imagination of youth while at the same time showing how one day, it's nice to grow up.
Perfect.
If anyone doesn't understand how ‘whiteness' has nothing to do with skin colour you can just show them this book. A book about being half Korean written by the whitest woman in the world.
She manages to make everything about her. The most obvious example is her father. You would think she would have some empathy, after all whatever she is feeling for this distant mother figure she barely interacted with must be a thousand times harder for the man whose life was completely defined by her, who lived with her his entire life. But no, instead she tries her best to demean and belittle his experience, culminating in the weirdest scene in the book, where she asks the reader to join her in smugly judging a grieving widower for committing the sin of acting like a tourist in a foreign country.
Then there's the food, just endless irrelevant lists that make the eyes glaze over, like you're at an asian restaurant with a white friend who wants to show off how worldly they are. The best food writers will go out of their way to place food in the context of the place it comes from and the culture it represents, using food as a way to build understanding of another people and another way of thinking. Not this author, for her Korean food only represents a chance to show off how interesting she is. She can't risk actually engaging with the culture beyond a superficial level because then she might have to consider other people worldviews. There's something so quintessentially millennial white woman about it. This is the Eat, Pray, Love of grief.
To be fair, this story would be perfect as an article, it would be heart wrenching and beautiful. As a book all it does is reveal the emptiness underneath.
I will say though, if you lost your mum I'm sure it would hit the feels, its so saccharine it can't not.
And also if you want to know what it's like to be the worst, this is the book for you.
The language is odd with some interesting word choices peppered throughout, I don't know if that's the translator or the writer. It's a distinct style of writing that I warmed a little more too as it went along.
But the first half is sooooo dull, if I hadn't a book club schedule to stick to I don't know if I would've pushed through. Then it gets to the second half and it's weird to say it gets better since it just gets so damn depressing, but it's definitely more engaging.
This book plays with the reader brilliantly, lulling you into a false sense of vague discomfort but not outright alarm, so when it takes a turn into bleaker territory (and sweet mother does it get bleak) you're left to reflect on the fact you didn't see it coming from the start.
Men, am I right?
This is a book about exposing a hidden chapter of history rather than building a single narrative. The focus is on research and analysis and showing the facts of this mass murder.
It's definitely not dry but it does mean the emotional weight of this book comes from learning what happened, not from a specific characters journey.
Extremely well researched, with broad analysis of the events of the Osage murders that provides horrifying breadth to the tragedy that occurred. David Grann also avoids sermonising, letting the facts and the history speak for itself. By the end every reader reaches their own conclusion about the psychology of a country with this kind of darkness in its history.
Glad I'm in Australia where this kind of racist cruelty never happened.
Listening to this on audiobook is like hearing the First True Crime Podcast. The tension with the slow reveal of what happened, the focus on the criminals as much as the victims or the police tracking down the criminals, the homoerotic undercurrent, it set the standard for much of what was to come.
This book stays with you, it makes a strange case for both the need to keep certain people away from the general public forever but also why capital punishment isn't the answer.
The first time I read this I remember expecting more in terms of motivation and connections between the victims and the criminals and feeling a little let down. This time around I appreciate that it's that very lack of connection that makes the aftermath of the town so fascinating to focus on.
Also it's hilarious how much more interesting a character Perry was out of the two criminals, Truman does his best to seem even handed, keep Dick in the picture, but basic-ass Dick never stood a chance.
This won the Booker prize so it's fine for me not to be a fan. I've argued with some people about it to try and understand why it's liked, and I just can't get there.
Everyone acts like the narrative style is new but it's such a clear comparison with Virginia Woolf's To The Lighthouse, a comparison that does nothing but harm to this book.
You would think the point of constantly switching to show different characters inner lives is to show the complexity of being human and interacting with others, how people appear on the outside vs their inner thoughts, but I genuinely think you could write this book with literally no internal monologue from anyone and you would still know everything about each character. This narrative style didn't actually add anything which makes me wonder if the point was just to...be......different?
Nice to read something so South African, that's something.
A strong DNF, I would be kind and give it two stars since the idea of having an intrinsic motivation is a nice idea, but the examples he gives are so wildly selective and innaccurate I can't forgive it.
He also includes a concept that was so dumb it might have melted my brain. He claims people in the past believed the world was flat so they didn't explore because they were scared of falling off the edge.
That's why they didn't explore.
Not because of a lack of sufficient naval technology. Not because of societies needing to reach a certain size to have the ability to fund and man risky exploratory missions. No.
The reason sailors didn't explore was because they were scared of falling off the edge of the map.
I can't.
I liked this book but I respected it more than I liked it.
This is an example of the kind of story that's worth having the plot spoiled beforehand, just so you can focus on what actually makes it good: the creeping tension and evocative setting.
It also didn't help that I spent a large chunk of the book being reminded of Iain Banks brilliant first novel The Wasp Factory. It's not a totally fair comparison because the two books have slightly different styles but still, I couldn't help it and this book was never going to come out on top in that match up.
After reading this I'm confident in saying most fantasy series would benefit from including one book where the characters become pirates for a bit.
Locke and Jean are still the beating heart of the series but the host of new characters manage to hold their own.
Not quite as tight as the first book, and it didn't add much new depth to the characters, but still a swashbuckling ride that never stops entertaining. The bold shift in style makes up for any small grumbles I might have.
Left me looking forward to book 3.
The stories in this reach a whole other level compared to the previous collection, the mysteries more complex and interesting, the adventures more entertaining, and featuring the introduction of some absolutely iconic characters in Mycroft and Moriarty.
This must be the definitive collection of Sherlock Holmes stories.
Biggest takeaway: Jane Austen is not a fan of children.
This is basically a rough draft of Pride and Prejudice. Inferior in most ways but can see how it would've been popular at release.
Found it weirdly judgemental, like Jane Austen hadn't yet learned to add nuance to her judgements, characters motives and actions are spelled out rather than shown.
Elinor is the one of the most fleshed out one dimensional character I've ever read. She's perfect and her only issues are dealing with a world that isn't ready for her perfection.
Loved every passage about a bachelor over 35 being tragically, desperately, over the hill.
A rip roaring, entertaining read. I loved the complete lack of focus on worldbuilding, nothing of the wider world is fleshed out, or plays a part in the story, instead it's all just a cool setting for a fun heist and revenge tale.
I will say the playful tone left me unprepared for the violence when it arrived, and there is no way that halfway through the book I would've expected the body count to reach what it does by the end. This tone discrepancy robs the dramatic moments of some of their emotional heft but it definitely keeps things thoroughly engaging.
If you're looking for a good old fashioned fun time with a book, this is a great option.
Never or seen this before, I liked it.
I'm not sure if it's a drama or a comedy. On the one hand you have the elegant and poetic journey of Prospero from betrayal, to revenge, to melancholy forgiveness. All the while potentially echoing the bard himself - who wrote this at the end of his career - reflecting on his own life and work.
On the other hand you have the dudebro comedy of Caliban and the lads getting plastered and hilariously failing at every step in their drunken attempt at a coup.
Good fun.
Well I can see why this is popular. When you so perfectly combine lifelong friendship and post-war Italy you can't miss.
Does everyone have the brilliant friend? The friend who you share a unique understanding of the world with that no one else seems to grasp? The friend that makes you feel both less and more than what you are?
That's nice to know, it's a friendship you don't see in literature enough.
Also, surely I'm not the only one that absolutely loved when Ferrante did that thing that some novels do, where it turns out the brilliant friend in the title wasn't who you expected. As the Elena of my duo, I appreciated the ego stroke.
Love a book that ends with some playful banter about the main character getting back into his cocaine habit.
This is the book that really locked in the Sherlock Holmes that we all know. A Study in Scarlet still treats him as a human, but this book turns him into a superhero. He loses some of his insecurity and as a result feels a little less real. Obviously this worked, the character revealed his franchise potential and we still talk about him to this day.
But it feels like there was a slightly different direction the character of Sherlock Holmes could have gone, somewhere a little rougher and more human, and that version would've been interesting to see too.
But hey, instead he became the most iconically Victorian comic book character ever.
I don't know if subconsciously I had heard these stories before, but the mystery in a lot of these mysteries didn't seem so mysterious.
If you remove “someone impersonating someone else” and “we know who did it and why, the only surprise is the specific details of the murder that you can only kind of guess at with the detail provided” then you rule out the vast majority of these stories.
But to be fair ‘Scandal in Bohemia' was great, and I may be coming in with grandfathered expectations.
A fun light stroll through the early rulers of England, as a non-Brit there was even more for me to learn here. Like I never knew that these so called “English” are really just a bunch of French Vikings.
He manages to straddle the line between making fun of these puffed up larger than life characters while still giving credit where it's due. By placing them in the context of their time he actually manages to humanise these quasi-mythological royals, something that is easy to forget when someone is such a large part of history. His treatment of Edward III stands out to me as the best example of this.
I had fun, and I could spend all day reading David Mitchell's asides.