Solas

Felt like sinking into a long conversation with an old friend. John's voice (both authorial and aural) is consistently approachable and filled with pathos. He breaks down the multifaceted hurdles of addressing tuberculosis in a way that's easy to digest while never allowing the reader to forget, at all times, that these challenges are not just survivable but a crime they've been allowed to go on for so long. The anecdotes he shares are harrowing; at multiple points I had to stop and take a break because I was tearing up, but he manages to weave in enough hope that it doesn't become overwhelming.

The work left to be done feels endless, but it will have an end. It's work worth doing.

Listen... I could sit here complaining about the shallow romance or the too-neat resolution or the missed opportunity for better feminist commentary, but like. It's just nice. It's just nice! Sometimes what I really need is a story that's nice and cozy and sweet and uncomplicated. Not everything needs to show the deep complexities of the human condition. My critical brain recognizes that it's far from perfect, but my lizard brain is giggling and kicking my feet and kissing my kitties in glee. Love is real!

Had to stop because degenerative diseases hit hard for me and I'm not in the headspace where I can handle that right now. The localization was serviceable, though I had a difficult time keeping the characters and their relationships to each other straight. I hope to come back to this at some point, but I'm trying to be okay with not finishing books if they're not grabbing me.

Ow, my feelings!

What's the opposite of “I bet this shit hits so hard if you're stupid”? Glorious. Gorgeous. Fucking labyrinthine to the point where I bounced off years back because I was too scared of feeling like an idiot to tolerate discomfort for a couple hundred pages. This came at just the right time so I can't kick myself too much for waiting. I love you, Blue.