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This novel is very much spiritual successor to Douglas Stuart's debut novel Shuggie Bain. It explores much of the same themes, has an identical set up of characters, takes place in the same setting but is more polished in just about every way to the point that I couldn't be annoyed by it.
Not quite as strong a book as Black Sun, and unlike many readers I definitely noticed a little bit of middle book syndrome as the board was clearly being set for the finale, but by all accounts a good read.
Some twists I saw coming, some I didn't, some characters I grew to like more (Iktan really shines here!) some grew a tad annoying (will Xiala please stop pining) and the ending, as in Black Sun, feels rather abrupt. Any shortcomings however are drowned out by a fast-paced, immersive story that dives right in where Black Sun left off at a breakneck pace. The Crow God is reborn after all.
What becomes even more clear in this second novel is that the world of The Meridian is the true star of the show. Such a beautiful, well-realised world that is carving out its own place in a genre that is usually, though thankfully decreasingly so, Euro-centric. Rebecca Roanhorse has clearly put so much love and care into crafting this world, and I love spending time there. I wish these books were twice as long.
My pettiest quibble: it bothered me so much that it was Elektra (rather than Electra) but not Klytemnestra and Kassandra (who are still Clytemnestra and Cassandra). I did say it was petty.
Other than that this was exactly as it said it was: a re-telling. Unfortunately, there are far more interesting ones (Natalie Haynes' A Thousand Ships comes to mind). Furthermore it's called Elektra but focuses additionally on Clytemnestra and Cassandra. Clytemnestra I can understand as part of the family, but Cassandra seems disconnected and felt like the author just needed a Trojan POV. All in all, some poignant moments from the Clytemnestra sections, but ultimately underwhelming.
A debut novel that is bleak but compassionate. While Sequoia Nagamatsu isn't afraid of delving into dark and uncomfortable topics, the underlying big beating heart of humanity that he seems to truly believe in is ever present.
How High We Go in the Dark is told in a series of semi-interconnected vignettes and tells the story of humanity over hundreds of years after a climate plague begins wiping out huge swathes of the population. Some episodes were stronger than others, but overall the quality was consistent and creative, leading to a surprising but satisfying payoff. The prose is contemplative and at many points beautiful. Maybe on a reread this could be pushed to five stars. For now, 4.5/5.
I have a bad memory, which in the case of reading books actually turns out to be a good thing. I first read The Witcher when I was in college and now, about five years later, I barely remember anything of it other than that I found it really enjoyable. I did watch the Netflix show back in December, but found it disappointing and didn't finish the season.
That's what made me want to reread it, but also made me somewhat concerned. What if it wasn't as good as I thought?
Well, I didn't have anything to be worried about. This is an excellent collection of short stories. They roll along quickly, none of them are boring, standouts being The Lesser Evil, The Last Wish and The Witcher. There's plenty of dark humour, lots of fun references to well-known fairy-tales (a friend describes it as Shrek for adults, which isn't exactly inaccurate) and monsters galore. It's in this volume that you're introduced Geralt and the supporting cast of Yennefer and Dandelion and the bulk of it, and the sequel, essentially helps to illustrate the world before book three heads into the saga proper (I was surprised Ciri didn't show up, but that must be book two!).
All in all, I'm glad I reread this, and I'm looking forward to the rest of the books. A bad memory has its perks; I'm basically looking at this again for the first time!
I can't think of many things scarier than the K-Pg extinction. It's always been something that gives me chills to think about. Our brains aren't made to grasp an apocalypse on that scale, and what's always struck me is the absolute freak nature of it: if anything had gone slightly different the last 65 million years would be completely unrecognisable.
This was a really interesting book in detailing before and after the asteroid hit. The first third of the book paints a picture of Hell Creek in the days preceding the asteroid impact, while the remaining chapters detail the aftermath (one hour after impact, one year after impact, and so forth into a million years). While the main focus is on Hell Creek, each chapter also contains a section on a different area of the planet, showing the aftermath on a global scale.
It's quite a unique perspective as most books on dinosaurs mark the end of the Cretaceous as the end of the dinosaurs, while that's decidedly not true. This book not only talks about the avian dinosaur survivors, but also the impact this event had on marine reptiles, insects, flora and fauna as well as, of course, mammals.
An expansive historical epic and a compelling debut, reminiscent in presentation to Min Jin Lee's Pachinko. Recommended
Though this is said to be a story collection, it reads much more like a novel. Told in an episodic fashion, every “story” is a short, almost slice of life segment in the life of Dee, and his Penobscot community in Maine. We are given snippets of his childhood and adulthood non-linearly, which means the reader always questions how and why adult Dee ended up in the position he is in. This book deals with lots of issues; family problems, drugs, alcohol, grief, loss and native tradition, and Morgan Talty switches from laughter to heartbreak with flair and ease. That's life, I suppose.
Recommended, especially to people who enjoyed Tommy Orange's “There, There”.
(10/07/2020) So, the fourth Stormlight book is due, making this the fourth reread. I wasn't planning on starting so early (November is a long time away after all) but I'm so excited I couldn't help myself!
Unsurprisingly, it's still phenomenal. The characters are fantastically human, the world and worldbuilding immense and vivid. The writing, while relatively simple, gets the job done and although this is a relatively slow paced book it never once feels like it's stalling. There are four main point of view characters: Kaladin, a slave, Shallan, a scholar, Dalinar, a lord, and Adolin, Dalinar's son. I'm never disappointed turning to the next chapter and seeing which character I'm reading about next, which is more than can be said for other books in the genre. There are also brief interludes from the point of view of (seemingly random) characters which display cultures and events from all over, leaving the world feeling alive.
While I've seen some complain about the use of flashbacks, I strongly disagree. Maybe it's something to do with Kaladin being my favourite character in the series, but I love the way the things we learn through his flashbacks expand our understanding of his character and his response to present day events. And like I said, I'm biased. I love him to bits. The other POV characters are pretty great too, and I'm so glad the flashbacks continue into the next books focusing on a different character each time, but the fact we started with Kaladin definitely made me immediately invested.
This is everything I love about fantasy. The ultimate 1100 page doorstopper. And it blows me away on a reread knowing that it only gets better. Now I have to go and start book two right away and ignore the other 100s of books on my TBR list
[Read 06/08/23] Genuinely quite fantastic. Thoroughly dismantles Humphrey Carpenter's largely inaccurate depiction of Tolkien as an old fart stuck in the past while going through his modern reading WITH clear evidence. While there are a few eyebrow raising claims (when aren't there in this kind of scholarship? see Tolkien's Lost Chaucer) this is an erudite and meticulously researched book that I wish I had gotten to sooner. Super engaging and, as someone who did focus on medieval texts in my own degree, definitely broadened my horizons regarding my own understanding of Tolkien. 4.5
(26/08/22) On a whim, I decided to do a re-read before I see Rings of Power on Wednesday. A prologue of sorts!
One aspect that has stood out to me more and more over the last few years is how words have an inherent power in Tolkien's legendarium. The entire world is sang into existence, lasting echoes of which can be heard in the waters of the world and guides the elves home westward. An oath undertaken in fury by Fëanor and his seven sons shapes the First Age and the fate of the elves. Thousands of years later, a certain timid but resolute halfling raises his “small voice” and speaks before the greatest powers of the Third Age: “I will take the ring [to Mordor], though I do not know the way.” Curses, spells and oaths are very real, the most ancient of magic, and the most powerful.
The Silmarillion is split into multiple parts. There is the Ainulindalë, detailing the creation of the world through music. The Valaquenta explores the roles and relationships of the Valar, the (small g) gods of this land when it was so young the sun and the moon did not yet exist. Akallabêth takes readers to the tumultuous Second Age and reveals the growing shadow of Sauron and the rise and fall of the island nation of Númenor, the greatest kingdom of men the world has ever seen (and will be part of the upcoming Rings of Power TV series). The final section titled Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age covers, as you might expect, those infamous three rings for elves, nine for mortal men, seven for dwarves and the One to rule them all, and the downfall of The Lord of the Rings.
The main chunk, and for many the main draw, is dedicated to the Quenta Silmarillion proper, the story of the struggle of the firstborn Elves and men against the first Dark Lord, Morgoth. It sits between the Valaquenta and Akallabêth, and tells of the awakening of the elves under the stars, their journey west to Valinor, and the crafting of the Silmarils, three beautiful jewels that have captured inside them the most radiant source of light within the world. When the Silmarils are stolen by the Morgoth, Fëanor, the jewels' creator, and his sons swear a terrible oath to pursue and take them back at any lengths.
Exiled by the Valar, Tolkien relays an account of the terrible consequences of that oath, from the initial rebellion against the gods and the first acts of bloodshed between elves, to the downfall of Morgoth, the doom of the House of Fëanor and the blood soaked end to the First Age. It features the tales of Lúthien, the elf maiden who fell in love with a mortal man and had a voice so beautiful she moved the Lord of the Dead to pity, and the tragic tale of Túrin Turambar, the child of Húrin who is unable to escape the curse spoken upon his family by Morgoth. All the while, the war for the Silmarils rages on. We know from the start how it will end. Fëanor and his children can never undo the oath they swore, nor undo the damage they wreak in fulfilling it.
“Tears unnumbered ye shall shed; and the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so that not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains. On the House of Fëanor the wrath of the Valar lieth from the West unto the uttermost East, and upon all that will follow them it shall be laid also. Their Oath shall drive them, and yet betray them, and ever snatch away the very treasures that they have sworn to pursue. To evil end shall all things turn that they begin well; and by treason of kin unto kin, and the fear of treason, shall this come to pass. [...] The Valar have spoken.”
Yes, this novel is extremely dense. It is, however, nowhere near as difficult as people have likely led you to believe. It is also incredibly beautiful. Tolkien spent his entire life working on it (first drafts written in the First World War) and never finished it in a way that satisfied him before he died. This edition was put together by his son Christopher, though other drafts and versions can be found in the 12 volume History of Middle-earth series, as well as each of the ‘Great Tales' getting their own book: The Children of Húrin (2007), Beren and Lúthien (2017) and The Fall of Gondolin (2018), also all edited by Christopher.
The Silmarillion is the only place the narrative of the First Age can be read in the format of a full novel. And despite the fact it is technically unfinished, it is truly Tolkien's magnum opus. A dazzling work of imagination, a tragedy, an adventure story and a world mythology all rolled into one. It is a book that leaves me in awe.
This novel is inspired by the 1973 case of Relf vs Weinberger, in which two young, black, poor, mentally disabled girls were forcibly and unknowingly sterilised; their mother, who was illiterate, signed X on a slip in the belief that her children were being given birth control shots.
In this fictional novel inspired by these very real events, in 1973 23-year-old black nurse Civil Townsend uncovers forced sterilisation in the very clinic she works at after caring for two young poverty-stricken girls, Erica and India and growing close to their family.
Perkins-Valdez has an incredibly good grasp of time and place, and explores this not so distant history with tact and grace. An educational and enlightening novel.
(Reread 12/05/23) 3.5/5. It's always fun when the Universal Church of Truth are involved. And Gamora and Nebula's story/backstory continues to be just so damn SAD. A who's who of gotg antagonists show up (the aforementioned church, a certain cosmic elder and also the big guy himself, Thanos) and Gamora and Nebula's relationship is well drawn.
In a lot of ways this reads like a YA book, and as someone who is not into YA, I had niggles. I did think that the duo decided to work together too quickly. It's also written in some nebulous time period where the events of Gamora (2017) didn't happen or haven't happened? Never ever try and make sense of gotg timelines I suppose. It's all about picking and choosing what you like and ignoring everything else.
I did like this book. Worthwhile if you're a fan of the characters, though not necessarily required reading.
Wow! Dawn is the first book in the Lilith's Brood trilogy. Following a war that all but destroys Earth, the surviving humans, including our protagonist Lilith, are taken in by an alien species. These aliens believe that they cannot leave the remaining humans alone lest they destroy themselves.
I've not read anything quite like this before. Autonomy of humans is explored in every sense of the word. From surviving humans wanting autonomy as a species to bodily autonomy on an individual level, Butler masterfully weaves in mediations on race, gender and sexuality for a result that is uncomfortable and stark but deeply compelling.
So many things are left unanswered however, this is written clearly to be the first in a series, and I can't wait to read the next one! How much the following books stick the landing are definitely going to influence how I look on this book retroactively. Needless to say I'll be thinking about this for a long time.
This flew by. I was hesitant at first when I saw it focused on Rysn and Lopen, ESPECIALLY Lopen, who always struck me as a funny-in-small-doses character, but it turns out I had no reason to be. Very fun, and big implications for the cosmere. Very much looking forward to Rhythm of War next week!
While I can understand people who dislike this novel in relation to the previous books, I am not one of them. The second person narration highlights Tambu's disconnect from not just her community and country, but also from the woman she has been forced to grow into by the forces around her. A quietly disordered, evocative read and one made all the more poignant following on from Nervous Conditions and The Book of Not.
There's been so many successful Greek myth retellings (sooooooo many) and while I'm a fan, I admit I have been sitting by quite impatiently waiting for Norse myth to get the same treatment. Well here we are.
Gornichec tells the story of the Norse gods from the point of view of Angrboda, the giantess who is known for mothering Loki's children: Hel the ruler of the dead, Fenrir the wolf and Jormungandr the world serpent. She is barely more than a footnote, named in Eddic poetry as a giant and a mother to monsters, and nothing else. Here, Gornichec reimagines Angrboda as having a significant but forgotten role in not only her relationships with Loki and their children, but others amongst the Aesir, with consequences reaching as far as Ragnarök itself.
I deeply enjoyed this debut novel and found it a fairly easy read. While I have a huge love of Norse mythology (I did write my dissertation on it in part after all), I imagine this would also appeal to fans of Madeline Miller and other similar authors. Just maybe, if you have the time, become familiar with Norse myths first as once you do it's so obvious how much time and care Gornichec has put into this story. I really hope she has something else to share with us soon!
Leila Mottley's writing style is so assured, in many ways it's hard to believe she was only 17 when she began writing this. In other ways, it seems more obvious. This novel covers a lot: poverty, sex work, police brutality and corruption, addiction, and the realities of being a young black woman in modern America. And while Mottley has clearly done her research, at times the prose paired with the subject matters teetered on the edge of the melodramatic. That sounds like an extremely crass way of putting it, but sometimes it all just felt like TOO much was going on. Nevertheless, this was so impressive for someone so young, and I have no doubts that Leila Mottley has a promising career coming up, and I am very much looking forward to reading whatever she chooses to put out next.
Different feelings depending on which part of the book we're talking about. This novel is split into two parts: the first third, “Breasts”, is one novella, while the sequel “Eggs” is the next two thirds of the book and takes place with the same set of characters ten years later. Kawakami explores multiple different facets of womanhood from the perspective of three characters: Natsuko, her older sister Makiko, and Makiko's preteen daughter Midoriko. The first novella was a really strong start, but during the second I found my mind wandering more at parts. All in all I did like this, and I am very much interested in reading more of Kawakami's writing. Her highest rated novel on here, ‘Heaven' is apparently looking at a 2021 release date in English! 3.5
Beautifully written and affecting, but I found the time skipping back and forth often jarring and random. this is more of a personal preference rather than any fault of the novel however
Really enjoyed this one. Each POV was equally compelling and the unique writing style, not quite in verse but not quite prose either, was also refreshing (once I got used to it!). The hype is well-deserved.
Horror, intergenerational trauma and cycles of violence. And I'm also VERY creeped out.
My favourite thing V.E. Schwab has written so far I think! Lovely prose, lovely characters. Despite the concept, I did find it quite predictable so a few moments that were supposed to be a surprise did fall flat. Very much interested in seeing just how well this translates to film, especially because most of the enjoyment stems from Schwab's writing style itself.