David Cave

I think this book is great for those wondering about statistics related to challenges and failings within the concept of policing, as well as a brief history of the concept. For me it missed the mark a bit because I had some idea of statistics regarding what Vitale covers in his book, so a lot of it felt like a review and reinforcement of things I've seen floating around on social media. This is not a condemnation or really intense criticism of Vitale's book, but a clarification for readers hoping for a more in-depth analysis of information they may have gotten through social media posts and discussions already.

I would love to see Vitale write a follow-up book examining case studies of other countries and communities that have reconsidered carceral punishment, policing, and mental health access and services (Cherán comes to mind, as does many pre-colonial indigenous approaches to community justice). The only other issue I have with Vitale's approach is in some of the concepts raised about funding social workers as an alternative to policing. Although this argument is made in good faith, social work and the mental health field as a whole has a long, storied history of carceralism, neurotypicalism/overclinicalization, stigmatization, stripping of patient's rights for the “greater good”, not to mention the racist and sexist historical factors that are often glossed over or discounted outright. I get that this isn't THAT book, but even a brief mention of criticism of alternative approaches would have been a good call-out.

That all being said, if you're new to the concept, bristle at the idea of police abolition or even restructuring I'd recommend this as a primer for some of the deeper larger discussion around policing and militarization of police.

I'm told my paternal grandfather, who passed when I was a mere six months old, didn't read much but this was his favorite book. It probably would not have been on my radar if it weren't for this, though I am a sucker for road and travel writing, and find myself opining for it even more in the current pandemic-world we live in.

I'm fully aware Travels with Charley is almost entirely if not all a fabrication. The piss-in-your-cornflakes types can't quite suck all of the enjoyment out of this book for me, partially because Steinbeck states in the book several times he may have embellished or changed facts, and because you can absolutely 100% tell just by reading through it that it's a very curated selection of motley characters and events that anyone who's done a few road trips would know isn't realistic. The true reality of road trips is that they are often full of junk food, long stretches of boring nothingness, and occasionally punctuated by magical scenery or an event here or there.

Even still, I found Steinbeck's cast of characters endearing, for the most part. His philosophical musings and asides to the reader were interesting and resonated with me, even if they weren't novel. I found myself wishing I were in Rocinante with Juanito and Charley, kicking back on the steps with a piping hot plastic cup of coffee, maybe watching a river roll on by us. It's exactly this type of romanticized old-America, that despite it's glaring hypocrisy and occasional cold disposition, exposes the soul of the nation, that at heart compassion and friendliness are the most American qualities, and serves as a hopeful and enjoyable salve for my chapped soul in these tough times.

After reading Occultation and loving it I really expected more from this collection. Barron's obsession with the hard-boiled larger-than-life tough guy grated me here as it felt well-worn and a bit tired to me by this point. I was craving another type of narrator, which we occasionally get here but sadly not often enough.

It's clear to me Barron was trying to step outside his comfort zone a bit with stories like “Vastation” and “More Dark” but these were more of a slog to me as they felt they relied too heavily on trying to do something new than being fun to read. Even some stories like “The Siphon” and “The Men from Porlock” which have exceedingly creepy final acts take a bit of a buy-in from me in the first 2/3 in that I didn't find the characters or setup all that compelling, but I acknowledge I may be alone in feeling that way.

I had about 6 months between reading the first half of the book and the second half so my memory on the earlier stories is escaping me. I do recall, however, quite enjoying “The Carrion Gods in their Heaven”.

Overall I think it has some good stuff in there, but far from Barron firing on all cylinders. I'd take just about anything in Occultation over anything here, but that's less to chagrin Barron's work on TBTTAUA and more to champion how great I think Occultation is as a collection.

I'll just state here before getting into my review, as so many have, that I read all three back to back and thus this will be my review for the trilogy as a whole. Needless to say, some spoilers for all three books may be contained within.


I'll start by saying I've been a fan of Star Wars since I was a kid. When my dad showed me Episode V (still my favorite) I was a little confused, but I needed to know more about this Vader guy. Luckily, this was during the early 90's and as I got a little older the Star Wars bug was reigniting in preparation for the prequel trilogy. I saw the original trilogy in the theaters when they rereleased them, I had toys, I played the Shadows of the Empire and Dark Forces video games. I saw the prequel movies, and though I was disappointed and a little lost, I still held faith in the series as a whole and believed it could redeem itself. This eventually petered out as my interest in SW waned a bit. I have been on a years long kick of reading mostly classical literature (some modern stuff thrown in there occasionally), but a few of my friends who were REALLY into Star Wars well into their 20's convinced me to make a detour and give the Thrawn Trilogy a shot, because, as they described it, it was AMAZING. This only served to build my expectations to previously unknown heights, to which Mr. Zahn could never realistically live up to. I tempered my expectations and soldiered on.

I don't feel I need to explain the setting in too much detail, it's around 5 years after the end of Episode VI, and the Rebellion has mostly mopped up the remnants of the Empire. Lo and behold, the empire has merely been biding their time under the watchful eye of one Grand Admiral Thrawn, a military genius and the only non-human Grand Admiral the Empire had. This sets the stage for a lot of political drama, even more space battles, and one or two lightsaber duels (sort of a disappointing number really).

Throughout the series there are more than one occasion where a major character gets into a bit of a tangle. Zahn writes these as though there is real weight behind them, that these characters could actually die, but you get the express feeling that he's winking at you behind the curtain, secretly telling you nothing bad will actually happen, it's all just part of the show. This has the disappointing effect that all the tension he builds ends up being toothless, he's not really going to let Thrawn catch Chewie and Leia on an alien planet where they shouldn't be, which most certainly would doom them and the entire race of the planet, right? No, he won't.

In this case, I think reading the A Song of Ice and Fire series previously ruined me. How many times did I develop an attachment to a character (Ned, Oberyn, looking at you) only to have them killed off so unceremoniously when I was SURE Martin wouldn't? Zahn could definitely have benefitted from taking a risk and killing off a major character to show that the others were not so safe. I'm guessing the decision not to include something like this may have been the effect of Lucas' iron grip on the franchise at the time (or risking other established EU), but I can't be sure.

Then there are the bits of ridiculous inclusions, and explaining certain things away. The biggest snag I hit early on in the first book was the inclusion of a scene in which Luke is drinking hot chocolate. Yes, you read that right, HOT CHOCOLATE. Seriously? You know what, I'm reading a book about a universe which has rastafarian aliens, space wizards, and a very effeminate robot, so I guess I'm already suspending my disbelief enough to let this one slide.

Probably the most egregious offender in this case (and the most talked about) would be the ysalamiri, a species of force-resistant lizards that live on a backwater planet that the Empire has apparently gone to great lengths to hide. They do explain why you haven't heard of them before in much the same way Kamino is explained in Episode 2, but it seems a little strange that you wouldn't have heard anything at all about the ysalamiri or the planet they reside on (Myrkr) at least in passing before. But again, space wizards, giant ape-people with speech impediments, hot chocolate. I guess I can make another exception.

I feel the same way about Grand Admiral Thrawn, for all his supposed military genius you have for whatever reason, never heard of him before now.

Speaking of Thrawn, just why is he so bad anyways? This never really gets explained, it's almost like Zahn expects his readers to just accept that he's bad and that the heroes must stop him, but we don't see him do much of anything that evil. Reviving the Empire would be bad, sure, but Thrawn's not even in the same universe as the emperor (and Vader) who regularly killed people for their insolence, slaughtered an entire school of children, and essentially enslaved entire races (the Noghri, Wookie, etc). Every time it seems Thrawn might lose his cool, he collects himself and metes out a judgment which, to me, most of the time seemed fair. This gave me the impression that Thrawn was not the true threat here, but merely a distraction used to introduce Joruus C'Baoth (Dark Jedi) who would be the main focus of evil in this story.

It seems for all his military genius, Thrawn and co. act like the Keystone Cops in nearly every situation, and where that doesn't happen the Rebels think up some unorthodox approach to whatever Thrawn's thrown at them now. This is especially evident in the last part of The Last Command, where Zahn sets the stage for alternating pieces of an epic battle between Mara, Luke, and Joruus and also the rest of the rebellion against Thrawn at the Bilbringi shipyards. The Jedi battle is full of all the excitement and tension (and a bit of surprise) you'd expect from a lightsaber duel, but the space battle at Bilbringi is surprisingly short and disappointing in contrast to some space battles earlier in the series. Zahn makes a point to explain via Thrawn and Pellaeon just how much of an advantage they have over the rebels, which they still manage to squander. This also has the result of a disappointing end for Thrawn and co., as you get a final act of revenge and betrayal that seems oddly placed given the character who sets it in motion. It's about as satisfying as a punch to the groin, they've been setting an epic battle up throughout the book and it has such an anticlimactic end it nearly ruined the enjoyment I had found with the series.

All of my nitpicks with the series are not to say that it's not thoroughly entertaining, though. If this is the best the SW EU has, then I suppose that's neither here nor there, but I think it's only a matter of time before someone does it better (I personally think the Knights of the Old Republic games have a much better storyline, though I'm not sure how any Old Republic books panned out). Zahn does have a knack for writing the characters in the spirit of the original trilogy, although the frequent nods to lines from the movies are a bit distracting and groan worthy. The action is solid, although I found a notable lack of tension, and the universe building is interesting enough (keep Wookieepedia up nearby to look up all the various races and worlds though), but not on the same level as Tolkien in my opinion.

In short, this is the literary equivalent to carnival food. It's sweet, nostalgic, and tastes alright, but in the end there isn't much substance to it, and when looked at in retrospect you'll realize not that much of it is all that memorable.

I must be weird, because having read a few personal accounts from concentration camp survivors I found Frankl's to be a bit dry and dark (it's darkness was more an issue with my own emotional state when starting it). I understand this was intentional as Frankl disconnected emotionally from his surroundings to get through daily life (as most people would and do in traumatic experiences), but the latter sections on Logotherapy really hooked me in.

I guess it speaks more to what I needed from this book, which was a broader context for a feeling of meaninglessness in my life, and Frankl's assertion that meaning can be found in small actions has helped me immensely. I'm only knocking a star off because the language and writing feel dated and clunky in a way that reminded me of reading the big book of AA at times. I get that Logotherapy was Frankl's baby, but it came off occasionally as a bit high on itself.