Becca

Preemie incubators got their start as a sideshow act?! True story.

I'm not really sure what to make of this last entry in the Terra Ignota quartet. Some parts were absolutely brilliant – the way that war spirals out into tiny fractal battles with the motivation behind each becoming increasingly personal and complex. I loved the way that Palmer as a historian thinks about not just technological changes but how government, family structure and social mores will change in 500 years. As she reminds us, the American Experiment is not yet 500 years old and there's no reason to believe that 500 years in the future people will continue to idealize democracy and free speech, as dear as that is to us today.

I loved the tension between: do we do everything we can to dream of a better world, or do we work incrementally on this one? I thought that ultimately, after The Will To Battle being overly sympathetic to the Masonic Empire, Palmer in this book shows more of the nuance between these sides and ultimately the arc for the original Saneer-Weeksbooth bash and for Carlyle Foster are pretty satisfying.

But there's just too much in this book. There are three pieces that just don't really fit and I feel bad because I think they're really Palmer's favorite parts: The Homeric references, JEDD Mason and Mycroft. Each is central, but ultimately distracting. Perhaps the least clear complaint is Mycroft – part of what made Terra Ignota stand out is a literally criminally insane, unreliable narrator, whose scandalous secret past is definitely scandalous. But by the third book, Mycroft's deification of JEDD Mason and commitment to the monarchy of the Masonic Empire was starting to really dilute the richness of the setting. Palmer's responded to this criticism by saying that it's just the lens of reading via Mycroft and that readers can read past him. But she had a rich opportunity to provide a foil for his narrative with 9A, and instead 9A too became a JEDD cultist. I think this is simply a theory of mind failure – as the reader, I cannot completely see past an unreliable narrator to pick up clues from a highly complex setting from only seeing first person narration from said highly unreliable narrator. Also, Mycroft's schtick is that he really is an unforgiveable person and I think Palmer got wrapped up in her own creation and ultimately found him sympathetic in a way that I did not find deserved.

So complex world-building + interesting philosophy + futuristic homeric retelling + morally complex unreliable narrator + exploration of novel divinity = too many things to fit into a quartet

Harriet McBryde Johnson may have looked at her life as being “too late to die young;” however, she died younger than she should have and her unique, powerful voice was lost to us. I tend to be skeptical about freshman novels, skeptical about the first person, skeptical about authorial self-inserts and skeptical about manifestos parading as novels. Accidents of Nature falls into all of the above categories; however, it is transcendent.

First and foremost, for a lawyer with no formal training on creative writing, Johnson has an unbelievable knack with characterization. Her characters are understated, but unique; flawed but sympathetic. Even characters that disagree with her point of view are granted strengths. The message in Accidents of Nature is very similar to that of “Too Late to Die Young;” however, in novel format, it is somehow easier to understand – that Johnson is suggesting an approach that is taken to all people with disabilities, not just razor sharp Southern ADA lawyers who happen to be disabled. And while groups such as Disability is Natural are beginning to champion similar movements, Johnson is one of the first and one of the loudest to take her approach to the disability movement. Accidents of Nature is guaranteed to challenge how all of us think disability and Johnson makes it clear, by inserting a caricature of herself, that even she is not above reproach.

I read this in a sitting, but it will stay with me for a long, long time.

Tara Westover's account of growing up essentially uneducated in a rural survivalist Mormon family in Idaho has been already much analyzed. Despite this, I found it very much lived up to my expectations. Tara is thoughtful and her portrayal of the different stages of her life, from naive acceptance, to teenage rebellion, insecure undergraduate and finally Cambridge doctorage student are each nuanced and well-written. She clearly has strived for an unbiased but personal account of her childhood, buttressing her memoir in several places on her brother's memories as well.

I also found this book terrifying to read – there are two major car accidents, two serious burns, more traumatic head injuries than you can shake a stick at and a handful of broken bones, all essentially untended. It's a miracle no one got tetanus

I am an unapologetic (Daniel) Mallory Ortberg fangirl. I've followed his work since the Toast, was overcome with glee when he took over Dear Prudence and basically think he can do no wrong. I also love faerie tales and hate short stories, so that's pretty much the context for where I'm coming from.Ortberg is a master of language and it shines here. His wit is subtle, but biting, and each story quickly comes into focus with a clear tone and setting, in a way that many short stories authors struggle with. In a lot of ways, the book reminded me of Kelly Link's work – designed as an intellectual puzzle that left you feeling something, without necessarily understanding why or what was literally happening in the story. Which is a super cool effect. But sometimes, a girl just wants to get what's happening, so by the end of the book the impact of that had kind of worn off.My favorite stories was the first, a really atmospheric retelling of The Little Mermaid, perhaps because many of the conceits that Ortberg used throughout the book were new and shiny still then. I loved the way Ortberg played with my expectations of “mermaid” by introducing radial symmetry, and the administrative humor of the Rules of the Fae. The siren/selkie tale later on used a lot of the same tricks, but just felt less cool. The two Frog & Toad-based stories stood out. Both because I don't consider Frog & Toad a faerie tale, but also they both had the same tone of passive aggressive/gaslighting horror. (Which was kind of also present in the Merry Spinster – where Beauty basically just bullied everyone by “never thinking of herself”) And yes, that is my personal bogeyman, but at the same time, I kind of wanted to be like “who hurt you?”Daniel Mallory Orbterg came out as a transman and changed his name coincident to the publishing of this book.

I found this duology the perfect brain candy – zippy dialogue, light science fiction, a fun detective mystery with a light helping of commentary on privilege and other modern social issues. Head On lacks some of the zing of Lock In, because it is a return to the same world, but I thought it still really had a lot of fun elements. And I liked the way the book explored what happens when a space (or sport) is built for a disadvantaged community and then commercialized and co-opted more broadly.

Andy Weir writes fast-paced, engineering-oriented scifi well. This heist on a moon colony, featuring a vaguely Saudi, lapsed Muslim protagonist was a quick and light read. There's welding and problems with low-gravity/zero atmosphere and family bonding and shady business dealings. So, almost perfect.

But look, some people shouldn't be allowed to write books about women, and Andy Weir is one of those people. Also, mostly, I wanted it to be the Martian redux. And by trying to make a convoluted conspiracy plot, Weir has wandered away from what he does best: MacGyvering in Space! books.

Very light-weight novella doing Scalzi at his peak: genre-blending noir and scifi with snappy dialogue and easy reading. It's designed to be an audiobook, and probably better in that medium, but I'm busy and this is a 30 minute read v. 3 hour audiobook?

This is the month that the internet becomes book form and then I read it? Except, in contrast to the other book-form internets that I've read this month, Soonish isn't based on a blog, but rather the webcomic Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal. Which is one of those things that makes me feel a little less lonely: there are a nonzero number of people out there who, like me, eagerly wake up in the morning to read the newest math/D&D/physics/astronomy joke-based comic strip. I'm not alone in the universe.

Soonish is actually primarily by the wife of the SMBC guy, Dr. Weinersmith, who is a PhD in parasitology and her scholarly publication list certainly dwarfs her lay publications. In my opinion, the scholarly bent showed: it's easy to go off of the scifi deep end here, but Dr. Weinersmith both explained things clearly, but also evidently spent a lot of time interviewing the top scholars in the field and making sure she was accurately depicting the current state of each field as well as the promises that it might contain. Ultimately, because the book focuses on multiple future technologies in a fairly rapid fire way it was light reading, but I don't think overly simplified.

I always have pause to see my own field depicted in the lay literature: here in the form of CRISPR, synthetic DNA and precision medicine, but I found it mostly well done, with a couple of metaphors that didn't quite work out. If that's the barometer for the overall scientific rigor of the book, I would say it's in about the 95th percentile of pop science writing.

And the illustrations certainly helped! As a reader of SMBC, I found the comics absolutely consistent with the tone of the webcomic – funny and a little dry.

I liked the idea of a strong caste-system being enforced on a generation ship, which launched from a post-apocalyptic earth with no destination. Planets are, in some ways, just generation ships, but it feels more claustrophobic in a ship, and therefore less room for idealism. I liked Aster and the deuteragonist, Theo a lot as part of a complicated, diverse and neurodiverse cast. And I also liked that for once in a dystopian setting, Solomon really explores the psychological impact of trauma in a way that is unflinching but still leaves room for sympathy.

But while the first half of the book was fascinating and driven by a compelling mystery, the denouement of the central mystery around page 150 requiring a bunch of pseudoscientific babble broke the metafictional agreement of mysteries (i.e. that before they are solved the reader at least has heard of all of the core components necessary to solve them; no fictional toxic heavy metal elements at the last minute.) And following that, the pacing really lagged into a series of upsetting but ultimately irrelevant oppression scenes. And ultimately, I wasn't sure what Solomon was trying to say about American slavery by telling a very conventional slavery narrative in space. I wish they had used the setting to advance the narrative.

I made a bad choice and decided that I'd start 2019 with a reading unit! I'd read books on real life stories of female spies! It'd be all of my favorite things: underappreciated historic women, cryptography and espionage. The downside is that even the coolest topics get repetitive after awhile, especially if you include a compendium like Code Girls.Look, there's nothing wrong with Code Girls, but similar to other historic compedia (e.g. Radium Girls), it struggles for want of a focus, jumping among characters that it doesn't do enough to differentiate. Juxtaposed with the overlapping [b:The Woman Who Smashed Codes: A True Story of Love, Spies, and the Unlikely Heroine who Outwitted America's Enemies 32025298 The Woman Who Smashed Codes A True Story of Love, Spies, and the Unlikely Heroine who Outwitted America's Enemies Jason Fagone https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1479580153s/32025298.jpg 52666460], the shallowness of its approach became readily apparent. This was also very true in its treatment of cryptography – mathy readers be forewarned.I think it's a great intro to the topic, but it didn't hold my interest as someone who already had a strong background in WWII cryptanalysis.

I...don't know. I might come back and give more points later. But His Dark Materials together are probably the most formative books in my life, and the bar might just be too high. Golden Compass was Just Another Fantasy novel when I read it, about the same time that Subtle Knife came out. But the six months between reading Golden Compass and Subtle Knife were very formative in my life (it was the transition from middle to high school) and so in many ways, reading Subtle Knife is deeply and fundamentally associated with starting to see symbolism in books, starting to ask existential questions about myself. Amber Spyglass was published just after my freshman year of college, and I read it multiple times back-to-back that summer, pondering the purposes of existence. Two years later, I saw each half of the stage production multiple times in the London National Theatre, and did the backstage tour twice. I have signatures of all of the actors. The altheiometer inset is framed on my wall, and it's not a coincidence that my avatar here is an altheiometer. HDM really formed who I am, how I interact with the world and how I read.

La Belle Sauvage, for now, at least, is Just Another Fantasy Novel. I have some specific concerns: the female characters have basically no agency (a major disappointment, after Lyra); the antediluvian portion of the novel really drags, with a few Whizbang!Fantasy moments but no real depth and the opportunity to use Daemons and worldbuilding to make the villain hair-raisingly creepy instead of just lazily using rape to signal moral corruption was passed over. But honestly, I could overlook all of those. My biggest disappointment was that there just wasn't much there there. I don't know if it's me – that I'm older and less malleable by a book – whether this book really is shallow, or whether it's set-building and the best is yet to come...

I really wanted to like this book, a lot. It has had so much fantastic press, and I've read a lot of great fiction and nonfiction set in the Amazon lately. However, the set up was just so disorganized. Grann tries to interweave the narratives of Percy Fawcett, the great Amazon explorer; subsequent expeditions looking for Fawcett and his own journey to the Amazon. This intertwining dilutes all three of the stories and is confusing to jump among. In addition, he discusses precise locations in the Amazon, but none of them are actually labelled on the map in the frontispiece.

The whole thing was so frustrating, because there actually is a really interesting story about survival, exploration and the age in which we knew so little about the world and had so few resources, but human curiosity drove us to investigate anyway. I wish that Grann had avoided the overdone move of going on his own Amazon expedition – it really didn't add to the story and the “denouement” in which he discovered “Z” was really him just meeting up with an archeologist from the University of Florida, who shared his research, which had already been published, anyway.

I did enjoy reading about the different Amazonian tribes and their beliefs, but wish that this book had been written by any actual expert (perhaps said Florida archeologist?) rather than a twee amateur.

Sigh. Linguistic nonfiction is my literary security blanket. I've read pretty much every pop linguistics nonfiction book out there and enjoyed them all. But not this one!

Emmy Favilla seems to have no sense of who her audience is: she veers wildly between offering highly specific advice for those developing a style guide for heavily perused blogs and pedantically defining “prescriptivism.” No sooner does she tell people to follow their own instincts than she derides those whose instincts include “whom.” She comes off as pretentious, self-important and judgey. My biggest problem with the book is that I didn't like her. But I didn't like the book either: without much central structure, it wanders through half-hearted odes to descriptivist language use, punctuated with screenshots of the author's slack chats and buzzfeed articles.

Because Internet covered many of the same topics more comprehensively and was much more fun to read.

I expected this book to be fun – and it was, but I also found it to be a very robust and deep novel. Overall, it reads more like interlocking short stories with the connecting theme being the main character and the ideas of what it means to seek redemption and how to be one's best self.

I tend not to rest my estimation of the quality of a book on unsavory elements included, understanding that violence is sometimes necessary for realism, plot, theme or character development. However, in this case, Fergus abandoned realism and character integrity early on, stretching his historic setting with unrealistic and misplaced values (which I hesitate to call feminism, for reasons that I'll get to.) Therefore, there is little excuse for the repeated sexual assault scenes, especially given that Fergus seemed to expect the reader to casually forgive the assailants as easily as his protagonists did. (So easily that the narrator, who was expected to be a reliable, sympathetic narrator, refers to the rape of another character as “nonconsensual” in scare quotes.)

Similarly, there is little excuse for Fergus' rampant use of the N-word. It's supposed to be a historic piece? Thanks, I got that without the casual slurs. I don't agree with censoring (or self-censoring) literature, but if you're going to be throwing around loaded words/scenarios, do it for a reason.

Fantastic idea. Execution lacking.

I lack the capacity to adequately describe this book. Russell worldbuilds with the trained eye of a sociologist, but the light touch of truly a gifted novelist. However, what really makes her work is a dedication to exploration of issues of moral complexity, grittiness, desperation and redemption.
The Sparrow is without equal.

So I read this while in labor. That's pretty much an adequate summary of what I really remember about this book.

Okay, to be fair, I also found the view of the inside of the kitchen a lot less interesting than billed, probably because after Bourdain wrote Kitchen Confidential, there was much in the way of copy-catting, culminating in a plethora of TV shows providing the same inside scoop. On the other hand, the view of Bourdain trying to move from being a lay-about to actually making something of a life for himself was fascinating

It was a struggle to get in a mere 35 books this year, mostly in a peri-election slump. I actually did a good job reviewing and adding books this year, keeping pace through August (usually I only keep pace through March or so) and actually reviewing them. And I read at a good clip, up until October, when I read barely anything. Nonetheless, books of the year:Best Book of the Year/Best Non-Fiction[b:The Riddle of the Labyrinth: The Quest to Crack an Ancient Code 16240783 The Riddle of the Labyrinth The Quest to Crack an Ancient Code Margalit Fox https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1387149271s/16240783.jpg 24585584] (Margalit Fox) – Like all good amateur cryptographers, I know the story of Linear B backwards and forwards, but Fox tells it with such beauty and power that it was like I was hearing it for the first time. The idea of being able to figure out what ancient people were writing about with no parallel language source (such as the Rosetta Stone) borders on magical. Fox's tale of the linguists who did add a nice & feminist touch to the story as well.Best FictionTie: [b:The Trespasser 29430013 The Trespasser (Dublin Murder Squad, #6) Tana French https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1462998307s/29430013.jpg 48321130] (Tana French) – At some point in time, I became obsessed with Tana French, and honestly, her work has just kept getting better. The Trespasser changed my worldview with its deep exploration of imposter syndrome and negative self-narratives. It deserves a place next to French's other Greats, like the Likeness and the Secret Place.[b:The Martian 18007564 The Martian Andy Weir https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1413706054s/18007564.jpg 21825181] (Andy Weir) – who thought a book about a solitary potato farmer could be quite so charming? I loved the ingenuity of the book. I also really liked the team of humans v. environment conflict as a nice reprieve from interpersonal conflict. Also goods![b:The Goblin Emperor 17910048 The Goblin Emperor Katherine Addison https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1373039517s/17910048.jpg 24241248][b:The Girl with All the Gifts 17235026 The Girl with All the Gifts M.R. Carey https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1403033579s/17235026.jpg 23753235][b:T. Rex and the Crater of Doom 83971 T. Rex and the Crater of Doom Walter Alvarez https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1403031387s/83971.jpg 81068][b:Jackalope Wives 20527580 Jackalope Wives Ursula Vernon https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1389652524s/20527580.jpg 37333063][b:100 Sideways Miles 20493997 100 Sideways Miles Andrew Smith https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1390410069s/20493997.jpg 16818609]Worst Book of the Year[b:A Guide for the Perplexed 17573649 A Guide for the Perplexed Dara Horn https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1395613421s/17573649.jpg 24513718] – Yup, a book I got for free was the worst book of the year. And it's not for lack of competition, either, this book was just pure awful. It's basically pandering to the audience who reads Books For Jews! Look, it's about Jews! The main character's name is Ashkenazi, so you know she's Jewish. Read it if you're Jewish (only don't, because it's a really boring retelling of the Joseph/Judah story, with Josephine and Judith standing in for Joseph and Judah.)More CommentsMan, I special ordered/bought new/borrowed new a ton of books this year, anticipating new works from much loved authors. This doesn't usually work out well in my life, I'm finding (Tana French being a notable exception.) I read very little nonfiction this year, starting strong, but then trailing off. I partially read at least three nonfiction books that I subsequently misplaced. I think I'm just a slower nonfiction reader and the barrier for me finishing books is remembering where I put them. Maybe I should work on that.I seem to be reading a lot more genre fiction again, after a long period of lit fic. I think I'm over the beautiful prose/speaks to the human condition/while nothing happens for a bit. Genre fiction, I missed you. Friends, I've been out of touch – what's good?Most Anticipated Books Planned for 2017[b:The Lie Tree 23592175 The Lie Tree Frances Hardinge https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1423240440s/23592175.jpg 43194799] – I have heard so many good things about this gothic/feminist/fantasy/science-y/mystery novel that it's hard to believe it's all contained in one book.[b:Talking Hands: What Sign Language Reveals about the Mind 1371694 Talking Hands What Sign Language Reveals about the Mind Margalit Fox https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1387743380s/1371694.jpg 1361555] – Perhaps I have already forgotten 2016's lesson to not be overeager for additional books by loved authors, but I need to read everything Margalit Fox has ever written and this book about a sign language that evolves in a Bedouin community with endemic deafness sounds amazing.

I was totally and completely spoiled about this book (stupid movie previews), but that didn't prevent it from being one of the best books I've ever read.

At first, I wasn't sure how I felt about the narrative voice. Kath, the narrator, relays her story in a roughly chronological order, with many tangents and anecdotes. But over time, it builds on itself and becomes the poignant reflections of someone who is facing her own mortality and has also lost everyone and every place that meant anything to her living through her memories. There are several times that Kath reflects on situations that, despite the sadness or finality, took on a closeness and levity that is only possible in the types of friendships where you can simply have wandering conversations about anything. It is clear that Kath is speaking to a reader who is that kind of friend.

The larger plot is fascinating – Ishiguro has several things to say about mortality, what we are willing to compromise (ethically) to further ourselves, the difference between faith and curiousity, and what it means to be a person and to be a part of the human condition. That, in and of itself was worth reading, but the book truly shines by being about a sincere depiction of one woman's life and personality within this larger world. You end up caring at least as much about Kath, Ruth and Tommy and their arguments, cassette tapes and classes as the big picture.

It is on the relationship level that Ishiguro shines. The friendships are intricate, completely necessary for the characters and extremely complex. Each character has their own flaws and deals (and doesn't deal) with them in various ways as they come of age.

This tiny short story is a cute little parable about how to respond to 2016 devastating election result. It's written in Valente's distinctive Fairyland voice, but the metaphor is pretty thinly veiled. Say “no” to tyranny and “yes” to community, she concludes.

I spent a lot of this year reading non-fiction and historical fiction about women in WWI and WWII, resulting in a ridiculous amount of knowledge about the WASPs (and WAVEs and computers in Bletchley and...) So I was very into the concept of alt-fiction NACA recruiting WASPs as astronauts. The climate-based apocalypse hit quite close to home. I think one strength was how Kowal captures a lot of the energy at the time: focused, goal-directed, but still heavily hierarchical and sexist and really portrays a time in the US para-military well. I liked the exploration about how sexism affected white women and women of color differently. Kowal also had very good consultants for the meteorology and astrophysics. Unfortunately, the pacing was a bit off: the first third is compelling and fast, and the back two thirds definitely drags through the same problems, introducing more and more characters

I love Sam Kean and this pop science accounting of various atmospheric gases does not disappoint. Roughly arranged by contribution to Earth's atmosphere, the chapters bounce from hot air balloons to chemical warfare. Kean focuses on depth rather than breadth, making for memorable and engaging reading.

Becky Chambers just writes the warmest, most comforting books. Writing in her characteristic episodic manner, she shows us what life is like for the Exodans – humans who stayed on the generation ships originally built to go off in search of a new human homeland, but which have instead become the long-term homeland themselves.

My friend who recommended it to me said: “there's something so profoundly Jewish about it.” I think she's right (although I doubt that was Chambers' intention). This is a diaspora story about a people who leave their homeland with the plan to return to a new home shortly and instead spend generations in space, learning to redefine who they are as a community and culture and their relationship to physical spaces.

The star of the murderbot diaries is murderbot, the neuroatypical, disaffected cyborg filled with ennui and a desire to binge TV. Certainly, the series was sold to me that way but much as I liked murderbot, the true heroes of this first novella for me were Wells' fascinating setting playing out the corporatocharcy of the 21st century and a cast of characters that were united as a team to communal ends (as shocking to murderbot as it was to the reader!)

Although the central mystery was decently compelling, most of the tension in this book comes from Murderbot's reluctance to be treated as a person, concern that people will see their face and assumption that all people are dumb, profit-motivated and ready to betray the group at any time. It's rare that the first book in a series isn't the strongest, but I just really enjoyed the later books where more character and setting development really shined.