nicanical
You could alternatively call this Diary of an NPC because that's what the main character is: butler Stevens (I don't recall a first name) takes a week-long vacation during which he reminisces about his previous service to the late Lord Darlington. Stevens served loyally and unquestioningly through tough times and objectionable demands. He believes this exemplifies a form of dignity but, by the end of the story, realizes that it exemplifies more his lack of a backbone.
I think the pacing is good, the scenes are balanced in weight and Kazuo Ishiguro doesn't linger too long in any given one—a sometimes-issue when stories rely heavily on deeply introspective characters. However, it's frustrating to follow along with Stevens: he is stiff, awkward, and naive in his blind loyalty to his employer. I don't like his highfalutin manner of speech and his habit of justifying himself ex post facto with sophistry. I admire The Remains of the Day as a composition but this doesn't make up for its uninspiring protagonist.
You could alternatively call this Diary of an NPC because that's what the main character is: butler Stevens (I don't recall a first name) takes a week-long vacation during which he reminisces about his previous service to the late Lord Darlington. Stevens served loyally and unquestioningly through tough times and objectionable demands. He believes this exemplifies a form of dignity but, by the end of the story, realizes that it exemplifies more his lack of a backbone.
I think the pacing is good, the scenes are balanced in weight and Kazuo Ishiguro doesn't linger too long in any given one—a sometimes-issue when stories rely heavily on deeply introspective characters. However, it's frustrating to follow along with Stevens: he is stiff, awkward, and naive in his blind loyalty to his employer. I don't like his highfalutin manner of speech and his habit of justifying himself ex post facto with sophistry. I admire The Remains of the Day as a composition but this doesn't make up for its uninspiring protagonist.
Starts with short stories set during World War II, drawing on Roald Dahl's experiences; these stories are a little boring in their simplicity but are notable as the initial efforts upon which Dahl developed his skills.
Following are polished, understated pieces with good characterization that you might read in The New Yorker (in fact, some were published there). I liked The Mildenhall Treasure best. The Great Automatic Grammatizator is also notable today, being about a machine replacing human authors.
Dahl's prose is pleasant to read: clearly polished, well-edited, and readable in its diction and structure.
Starts with short stories set during World War II, drawing on Roald Dahl's experiences; these stories are a little boring in their simplicity but are notable as the initial efforts upon which Dahl developed his skills.
Following are polished, understated pieces with good characterization that you might read in The New Yorker (in fact, some were published there). I liked The Mildenhall Treasure best. The Great Automatic Grammatizator is also notable today, being about a machine replacing human authors.
Dahl's prose is pleasant to read: clearly polished, well-edited, and readable in its diction and structure.
A Princess of Mars starts slow, its prose is wordy and archaic, dialogue is cheesy and performative, pacing jumps around, and the whole thing reads like a travel journal. But Edgar Rice Burroughs's quaint, retrofuturistic vision of Mars and the non-stop action makes it very fun to read.
A Princess of Mars starts slow, its prose is wordy and archaic, dialogue is cheesy and performative, pacing jumps around, and the whole thing reads like a travel journal. But Edgar Rice Burroughs's quaint, retrofuturistic vision of Mars and the non-stop action makes it very fun to read.
There are a few straight info dumps in the first half here. I don't recall this being a problem in Old Man's War.
It's nice to see Jane Sagan although The Ghost Brigades doesn't develop her relationship with John Perry from the first novel. Sagan isn't very interesting here though—her role being to babysit the main character, Jared Dirac.
The plot is serviceable.
There are a few straight info dumps in the first half here. I don't recall this being a problem in Old Man's War.
It's nice to see Jane Sagan although The Ghost Brigades doesn't develop her relationship with John Perry from the first novel. Sagan isn't very interesting here though—her role being to babysit the main character, Jared Dirac.
The plot is serviceable.
The Forever War is like Robert A. Heinlein's Starship Troopers with fewer classes, more combat, and a protagonist—William Mandella—who is jaded with the war rather than bought into it.
Joe Haldeman's treatment of time dilation here is the best I've seen after Alastair Reynolds's. Time dilation means decades pass between engagements, with successive expeditions equipped with drastically improved weapons and tactics. Like winning a line battle with muskets and cannons only for the enemy's reinforcement to show up with jets and tanks.
Naturally, time dilation means that Earth changes drastically as well from Mandella's point of view. The first time he returns home, two years have passed for Mandella but over twenty years have passed back on Earth. Mandella is so alienated by the unfamiliar world that he re-enlists shortly after. (In this way, The Forever War is also an allegory for the Vietnam War).
The story is paced well with chapters kept to digestible lengths. Haldeman's style is straightforward and relatively unadorned making this an easy read.
The Forever War is like Robert A. Heinlein's Starship Troopers with fewer classes, more combat, and a protagonist—William Mandella—who is jaded with the war rather than bought into it.
Joe Haldeman's treatment of time dilation here is the best I've seen after Alastair Reynolds's. Time dilation means decades pass between engagements, with successive expeditions equipped with drastically improved weapons and tactics. Like winning a line battle with muskets and cannons only for the enemy's reinforcement to show up with jets and tanks.
Naturally, time dilation means that Earth changes drastically as well from Mandella's point of view. The first time he returns home, two years have passed for Mandella but over twenty years have passed back on Earth. Mandella is so alienated by the unfamiliar world that he re-enlists shortly after. (In this way, The Forever War is also an allegory for the Vietnam War).
The story is paced well with chapters kept to digestible lengths. Haldeman's style is straightforward and relatively unadorned making this an easy read.
Updated a reading goal:
Read 50 books in 2026
Progress so far: 38 / 50 76%
Awesome revenge story: sailor Edmond Dantès, on the verge of marriage and captaincy, is framed and imprisoned. He eventually escapes, transforms himself into the titular Count, and moves to reap the pounds of flesh owed to him.
I read the unabridged Robin Buss translation. It's very good, very readable. Buss modernized the manuscript so his version reads like a contemporary work, though he did leave in some obnoxiously long complex sentences.
Good pacing, good flow. The book is hard to put down. Despite its length (approaching 400,000 words) it's all killer no filler. Well . . . except Luigi Vampa's backstory—Dumas shares all these details about Cucumetto and Carlini as background to Vampa, but Vampa ultimately plays small roles in the middle and end of the story.
The story slows down where Dumas introduces new settings or important characters because he front-loads a lot of his descriptive work. The Count invariably appears soon after to tie it all to the main arc so these moments don't slow the pace too badly. The last few chapters are slow too, but only because the revenge plot is mostly complete three-quarters through. The last few chapters serve to wind down some outstanding items and address the Count's eleventh hour crisis with his actions.
More of the behind the scenes would have been nice, showing the Count laying down the foundations for his many identities and maybe more of their movements (like Lord Wilmore's); details are so sparse that the Count's machinations and contrivances are sometimes dubious—like how is there such a convenient secret passage leading to Valentine's room? I get that the lack of details adds to the mystery and almost supernatural appearance of the Count's movements which goes hand in hand with his self-image as an agent of providence. I would have preferred to have seen more of the toil and planning and human achievement though.
Awesome revenge story: sailor Edmond Dantès, on the verge of marriage and captaincy, is framed and imprisoned. He eventually escapes, transforms himself into the titular Count, and moves to reap the pounds of flesh owed to him.
I read the unabridged Robin Buss translation. It's very good, very readable. Buss modernized the manuscript so his version reads like a contemporary work, though he did leave in some obnoxiously long complex sentences.
Good pacing, good flow. The book is hard to put down. Despite its length (approaching 400,000 words) it's all killer no filler. Well . . . except Luigi Vampa's backstory—Dumas shares all these details about Cucumetto and Carlini as background to Vampa, but Vampa ultimately plays small roles in the middle and end of the story.
The story slows down where Dumas introduces new settings or important characters because he front-loads a lot of his descriptive work. The Count invariably appears soon after to tie it all to the main arc so these moments don't slow the pace too badly. The last few chapters are slow too, but only because the revenge plot is mostly complete three-quarters through. The last few chapters serve to wind down some outstanding items and address the Count's eleventh hour crisis with his actions.
More of the behind the scenes would have been nice, showing the Count laying down the foundations for his many identities and maybe more of their movements (like Lord Wilmore's); details are so sparse that the Count's machinations and contrivances are sometimes dubious—like how is there such a convenient secret passage leading to Valentine's room? I get that the lack of details adds to the mystery and almost supernatural appearance of the Count's movements which goes hand in hand with his self-image as an agent of providence. I would have preferred to have seen more of the toil and planning and human achievement though.
Pyramids starts out interesting with Teppic's assassin training but that's not what the story ends up being about at all.
Pyramids suffers from the same issue in Sourcery of introducing interesting characters only to shelve them before climactic moments.
The story rambles after the first "book" (unlike previous Discworld entries, Terry Pratchett organizes Pyramids into four parts called books). There's a message in the story about breaking cycles and expectations, but it's difficult to extricate from the unruly path the story takes.
Pyramids starts out interesting with Teppic's assassin training but that's not what the story ends up being about at all.
Pyramids suffers from the same issue in Sourcery of introducing interesting characters only to shelve them before climactic moments.
The story rambles after the first "book" (unlike previous Discworld entries, Terry Pratchett organizes Pyramids into four parts called books). There's a message in the story about breaking cycles and expectations, but it's difficult to extricate from the unruly path the story takes.
Gateway's premise is captivating: the titular Gateway is an alien space station discovered with hundreds of ready-to-go ships; people figure out how to plot destinations but the Heechee's (the name given to the aliens) coordinate system remains opaque—travelers scarcely know whether they're headed for a valuable discovery or certain death. Despite this risk, a gold rush commences.
Frederik Pohl's writing style is simple and straightforward. Protagonist Robinette's survivor's guilt and suppressed memories make him an unreliable narrator, but otherwise, Pohl clearly lets readers know what's going on.
Structurally, Gateway alternates between two narrative streams: one in the past on Gateway and one in the present back on Earth, with the present stream exploring Robinette's psychological trauma. Iain M. Banks's Use of Weapons employs a similar structure to good effect, using flashbacks to hone into events relevant to Cheradenine's psychological profile. Gateway, on the other hand, simply has Robinette harassing his machine therapist over and over until revealing his suppressed memories. These therapy sessions do not bless Robinette's character with mitigating nuance. They also fail to rehabilitate Robinette of whupping the tar out of his girlfriend Klara—if Pohl's intention was for Robinette to be more sympathetic, the therapy sessions would have been good for that.
Gateway's premise is captivating: the titular Gateway is an alien space station discovered with hundreds of ready-to-go ships; people figure out how to plot destinations but the Heechee's (the name given to the aliens) coordinate system remains opaque—travelers scarcely know whether they're headed for a valuable discovery or certain death. Despite this risk, a gold rush commences.
Frederik Pohl's writing style is simple and straightforward. Protagonist Robinette's survivor's guilt and suppressed memories make him an unreliable narrator, but otherwise, Pohl clearly lets readers know what's going on.
Structurally, Gateway alternates between two narrative streams: one in the past on Gateway and one in the present back on Earth, with the present stream exploring Robinette's psychological trauma. Iain M. Banks's Use of Weapons employs a similar structure to good effect, using flashbacks to hone into events relevant to Cheradenine's psychological profile. Gateway, on the other hand, simply has Robinette harassing his machine therapist over and over until revealing his suppressed memories. These therapy sessions do not bless Robinette's character with mitigating nuance. They also fail to rehabilitate Robinette of whupping the tar out of his girlfriend Klara—if Pohl's intention was for Robinette to be more sympathetic, the therapy sessions would have been good for that.