Albert
Based purely on the title, I went into this book expecting something different. Maybe it’s just where my mind is at these days, but I thought it would be a treatise against the democratic backsliding associated with certain world leaders that I won’t name. But it turns out that Dave Meslin’s book is an exploration of the actual governing process, and reads more like a business/management manual, but applied to the systems of democracy. It’s more about logistics than political ideology.
Personally, my experience with democracy is somewhat intermittent: just go vote whenever there’s an election. It’s not very satisfying because it doesn’t feel like you’re contributing much, especially if your choice doesn’t win. Meslin agrees, and puts the blame on the systems and institutions of the government. And from there, he suggests tons of ideas of ways for those systems to change. I had many “a-ha!” moments reading this book, and I appreciated that the book is Canadian through and through, filled with examples and stories from nearby places.
Meslin is an excellent explainer, and simplifies complicated ideas, making them easy to digest. For example, he spends a lengthy chunk of pages describing alternatives to the first-past-the-post electoral system that we use in Canada. It’s kind of a geeky subject, but he makes it really clear how our current voting system leads to polarization and unfair election results.
I’ll spend the rest of this space listing some of the more enlightening ideas in point form:
• The government suffers from poor UX (user experience). I mostly associate this term with software design, but it can be applied to real world settings. Government spaces are unwelcoming, making it intimidating for ordinary people who want to participate. For example, city council meetings that are supposed to be open to the public are held behind closed doors. The simple act of opening the door and having clear signage would make a huge difference.
• In the Canadian parliament, the legislators are seated according to their party. This automatically sets up a confrontational vibe of one side vs. the other, and leads to the embarassing shouting matches that we often see. Meslin suggests random seating, which would force a sort of mingling between adversaries and a more respectful atmosphere.
• There’s a subtle difference between charities and non-profit advocacy groups. The former is a legal designation and allows donations to be tax deductible. However, in order to receive the designation, a charity has to refrain from advocating for policy changes, and instead focus on band-aid type solutions. For example, a food bank is a charity, and while it is important to help feed those in need, a food bank is not allowed to advocate for preventing the upstream root causes of poverty. Advocacy groups, on the other hand, purposely avoid registering as charities, so that they can be more critical of systemic problems. Donating to these groups is a vote for change, even if you don’t get a tax deduction on the donation.
There’s a lot more in the book, and I would recommend it to anyone who’s interested in how the government works, beyond the rhetoric.
My favourites:
- The Dead (Joyce)
- The Ledge (Hall)
- The Lottery (Jackson)
- Of This Place, Of That Time (Trilling)
- A Clean, Well-Lighted Place (Hemingway)
- The Wall (Sartre)
It was good for the first couple of chapters. I agree that the Internet tends to glorify the participation of the masses, even if those masses produce very little quality. Keen criticizes Wikipedia in particular, which has made me second-guess my own dependence on that site. I've never used Wikipedia for any in-depth research, but I now worry that even the small factoids that I get from it may not be true. I think that we are starting to forget the distinction between content created by experts and by amateurs, and this book does a good job reminding us of that.
In the second half, I think the book loses track of its main argument and devolves into moralizing. It basically boils down to: “The Internet is bad because people get addicted to online poker! And people steal music! And there's too much porn!” These latter chapters seem disconnected from the original thesis of the book, since these problems aren't related to the creation of content by amateurs. While the first part of the book is about the objective quality of content, the second half deals with subjective morals, and it becomes too grounded in the personal values of the author.
Perhaps ironically, the very act of my writing this review (I'm not a professional writer or reviewer) is exactly the kind of thing that this book is arguing against. So I wonder, can anyone really write a review of this book without having an inherent bias?
In Consent, author Jill Ciment reflects on her relationship with her late husband. They got together when she was 17 and he was 47, and stayed together until he passed away in his 90's.
At the core of the book are the questions:
Does a story's ending excuse its beginning?
[...]
Can a love that starts with such an asymmetrical balance of power ever right itself?
Half a Life
May December
The best parts of the book are the passages that connect the writer's life with the killer's. Taken alone, the two stories are interesting, but it's her finding meaning in the parallels between them that is truly compelling.
On a stylistic note, I wasn't a fan of everything in present tense. For a narrative that jumps around in time so much, it's hard to grasp a frame of reference if everything feels like it's happening all at once. I understand that the effect could be intentional, but it jarred me every time she used the will future tense, e.g. “five years from now, I will do so-and-so.” But it's obviously all in the past.
Very entertaining and hard to put down. I read the entire third act in one sitting, on the eve of Father's Day, which is interesting considering the plot revelations that come out.
In many instances, the characters surprise you by behaving in ways you don't expect. Some characters are set up to be a certain way, but end up making choices that break out of what a cliched version of the character might do. For example, in an early scene, the principal of the school, who is also the father of the school bullies, resolves a bullying incident by favouring justice over nepotism. It took me by surprise, and it was very satisfying.
Overall, a funny and enjoyable read.
(N.B. I'm a student of the author's and have come to know him personally.)
Very crisp read filled with characters that are easy to identify with. The morality of the book divides the characters into haves and have-nots, and invariably it's the have-nots who find freedom from their situation, and find value in things other than... things. Lots of hope. Lots of humour.
Not as much about snooker as I'd hoped. Lots of digressions. Still fun to read.
Highlight: constant bashing of the player Stephen Lee for no apparent reason.
My favourites:
- The Dead (Joyce)
- The Ledge (Hall)
- The Lottery (Jackson)
- Of This Place, Of That Time (Trilling)
- A Clean, Well-Lighted Place (Hemingway)
- The Wall (Sartre)
I spent my time with this book alternately impressed and frustrated at the writing style. The first-person narrator and title character is a chimpanzee named Bruno who has learned how to speak. It's clear that from the process of learning language, he has fallen in love with it, so I guess it makes sense that the narrative is written in such a flowery style. It does read well in some parts, but at the same time, it feels like the author is trying too hard to use big words.
It was nearer to the end when I started to lean more towards frustration. Bruno's friend Leon is introduced. I expected that the dialogue between the two would take a more casual tone than Bruno's elaborate first-person narration. After all, no one talks like that in real life. But, it turns out that Leon is a Shakespearean actor, and he does talk like that.
I realize that in the world of the story, this can be explained by saying that Bruno's speaking style throughout the entire narrative is influenced by his time with Leon. That makes logical sense, but it was still a decision by the author to have them talk that way. It made Leon seem not like a real character, but rather a device to deliver more fancy writing.
The book worked best when it focussed on Bruno's icky but somehow touching relationship with Lydia. Unfortunately, it lost me once it became about his adventures with Leon. I would like to judge the book as a whole, but this is a case where the final impressions took away from my earlier enjoyment.
As a foreign exchange student at Beijing University during the Cultural Revolution, Jan Wong ratted out a classmate who expressed a treasonous desire to leave the country for the West. The classmate disappeared and Wong, driven by guilt, embarked on a mission to find her and make amends.
Full review: https://alchoi.com/blog/2022-01-20-beijing-confidential
Enjoyed the writing style all around.
Will focus on my favourite story of the bunch, “Dogs In Clothes.” The main character reminds me of people I know, egocentric people who like to think of themselves as cultured, and are sensitive to any doubts cast on their sincerity. Yet, the character is not necessarily unlikable. You feel that she is just doing what is expected of her.
Picked this up for the first time in ~20 years. I read this many times at an impressionable age, and I credit it for influencing me to start the career path that I'm still on, and further, influencing me to be the type of computer user that I am (a Morlock, in the book's terms). I've internalized so much of the book that I don't feel like I'm really reading it anymore... it's more like, I'm watching sentences go by that are already in my head.
On the other hand, there are some sections that rub me the wrong way now. There's an attitude of elitism that doesn't feel right for me. I know that I was full of conceit and superiority when I was younger, so it would have appealed to me then, but it's kind of abrasive now.
The biggest strength of this novel is the combination of a coming-of-age story with a subtle magical world. The way that magic works, by indirect manipulation of reality, so that a spell seems to reach back in time to set up a chain of events that lead to the desired result, is fascinating. It also plays well with Mori's teenage insecurity; when she makes friends, she doesn't believe that she earned it. Even though she's a clear, natural fit in her book club, she chalks it up to a spell she cast, and agonizes over the “ethics” of her actions.
Artwork is beautiful. The story seems to be mainly built upon withholding information about the history of the world, so that you want to find out more. I'm not totally invested in the story yet, but the characters are growing on me.
The best parts for me were those that explored the way that people (families, couples) perform happiness or unity for the sake of others. And then those other people respond with envy, until it breaks down, either because the happiness dissolves for real, or because the envious person realizes that it's only an image.
I didn't like it as much when it dove too deeply into what I would call “writer stuff” - philosophical discussions about the value of literature and writing. It's too self-referential for me.
Second time reading the book. Have seen the movie many times. I still find the language and voice entertaining.
I believe this was the first time I've been exposed to the last chapter (older editions have the last chapter cut out, and the movie doesn't adapt the last chapter). I'm not sure how I feel about it. It does provide a nice symmetry to the first chapter, but I thought it was a bit too convenient. It features a character change in Alex that seems like it's just there to make a point and to end it on a positive note.
The Free Willy one was my favourite. It's disturbing to me that hype around a movie can move so many people to act, without regard to whether it's really best for the animal.
I've watched so much Nerdwriter that I heard his voice the whole time I was reading this book.
Stylistically, it can be a bit hard to follow, but the story is strong and propulsive. The characters are haunted by past actions that are so specific to their culture that at first, I didn't think that what they did was a big deal. But the journey to understanding why it was a big deal for them is exactly why I love reading.
Reads like a series of “did you know” factoids. Interesting but I don't feel it has enough depth.
I admired more than enjoyed this book. It's very well-written, but underneath the impressive style are a story and characters that I didn't like very much. I thought that it spent too much time in flashback, which gives it the feeling that the current storyline is constantly stalled; I was always waiting for it to get back to what's happening now.
Reminded me a bit of Flowers for Algernon or The Curious Incident of Dog, due to the narrator's voice. He's a naive mind who doesn't understand the world around him, but cares greatly about being good. Combine that with a cool magical setting, and I was hooked.