Sett

Immense in Scope

From the first chapter set in the Chinese Cultural Revolution, the book marches forward at a steady, unrelenting pace towards profound destinations. Along the way we're invited to reflect on the philosophy of and history of science, threaded by human elements both personal and on the scale of society and civilization.

I read it in four sittings.

I can see why it was so deserving of the Hugo award. This is “hard sci-fi” at it's finest - a heartfelt ode to science itself.

A collection of advice based on the author's experience in engineering management at hyper-growth startups.

A decent book to keep as reference for those who find themselves inadvertently having to make management or leadership decisions, however some of the advice is somewhat shallow and difficult to apply unless you're in a hyper-growth startup.

I'd argue the author's blog (https://lethain.com) has been more helpful than his book. I ordered a physical copy based on his consistently good writing.

However, the physical book itself is beautiful and displaying it on your bookshelf grants you membership in to the exclusive club of “tech workers who want to flex their disposable income on fancy Stripe Press books”.

If ever there was a piece of literature that could make any programmer feel seen, this would be it.

Ellen Ullman is a writer and she's damn good at her craft. If you're unsure, consider this quote that's attached to her name:

> “We build our computers the way we build our cities—over time, without a plan, on top of ruins.”

This line hooked me when I encountered it by chance online. It compelled me to seek out her books.

Ullman is also a veteran programmer, who worked as a consultant in San Francisco during an era that exemplifies our modern software industry: databases, networked computers, services were the new standard and thousands of new systems, millions of lines of code was being birthed into the world.

It's in this context that she sets her memoir that is extraordinarily honest (she doesn't hold back on being vulnerable and candid). Her musings about the work, situations and people she interacts with are familiar and offer a kind of comfort.

In a way, just by sharing so authentically, she's managed to say: “it's okay to be human (and also a programmer or whatever else you are)”.

Unfortunately, the sequel to Annahilation takes a break from the telling of direct experiences of any expedition members in Area X and the supernatural horrors they may face beyond the border.

Instead, it follows a new protagonist, John a.k.a. Control, a government agent sent the Southern Reach by his handler-mother (apparently from a career-family of government spies and operatives). Tasked with getting to the bottom of whatever is going on at the dysfunctional facility and investigate the disappearance of the previous director, as well the re-appearance of the biologist from the last expedition into Area X.

And because of this new scope of story world-building, Authority doesn't quite have the same tonal quality as the first book. The horror and mystery have been replaced by the confounded and cynical musings of a reluctant spy-turned pencil-pusher. Which isn't to say that Authority wasn't enjoyable, just a different sort of read to Annahilation: a tad more “noir” than psychological horror/thriller.

Jeff VanderMeer is a good writer. He has an uncanny ability to make you immerse yourself in the inner worlds of his characters - their hopes and fears laid out with the flourish of his craftsmanship. He can really make you understand the world of Control and empathise on some personal level. But sadly Control is not as interesting as the biologist, nor is the agency known as Southern Reach as compelling as the mysterious Area X it's tasked with studying.

However, I'm still excited to read the next and final book in the trilogy.

I enjoyed this one. As far as pop philosophy/psychology goes, it's an easy and engaging read. As another reviewer pointed out, Paul Bloom's writing is conversational in tone. But he's also an accomplished professor so his discussion points are insightful and well backed up by loads of citations and references (almost a third of my kindle book is the bibliography).

The book dives into the role that suffering has in our lives. How it relates to pleasure, meaning and even morality. It gave some very pragmatic insights into how one could live a good life – but to be clear, it's a philosophy essay not a self help book.

Bloom takes a “pluralistic” stance to everything, which means that he argues any points very gently and tries to give a lot of consideration to alternative views. This might be read as a lackadaisical, shallow walkthrough of the topics presented. But judging by the sheer count of highlights and notes I made, it's exactly what I appreciated about it