Jason Paterson
I've had a passing interest in Napoleon since I was a young man, but only in the last handful of years has that interest developed into something more like an enthusiasm for learning about this charismatic leader, the French Revolution, and the various Napoleonic Wars.
Napoleon Bonaparte lived an adventure filled and full life, even having died young at age 52. He was at once a brilliant tactician (having only lost 7 out of the 60 battles he was in), a superb statesman (introducing legislation and policies that would shape France for generations to come), and occasionally a monster.
This book dives deep into his early years on Corsica, and tracks his meteoric rise through the ranks from a young Lieutenant to the Emperor of the Republic of France. It does a good job of providing a birds eye view of the major battles, and perhaps most importantly paints a vivid picture of the man - his habits, his likes and dislikes, and his demeanour. It talks about the card games he liked to play, the way he drank his coffee, his morning habits, and how long he slept. All of this helps paint a picture of the man.
I could easily read this again and probably absorb just as much as I did the first time around, and I just might. Terrific book.
Horne's writing is delicate, elaborate, and sweeping. He lavishly paints a picture of the events leading up to Verdun and the battle itself, highlighting the major players in command and tracking the nightmare on the front lines. I always knew Verdun as a “meat grinder” and while that's true, there are distinct beats to this 10 month long battle and I came away with a more nuanced understanding of them.
The author depicts the flow of battle with expertise, and illustrates the effects it had on both sides. He dives into the nightmare of the new weaponry introduced at Verdun, like flamethrowers or phosgene gas - and you can almost feel the panic as your own heart starts racing imagining what it must have been like to confront these terrors.
I have only two criticisms of the book. Horne will sometimes reference a “well known” figure without giving any context. If you don't happen to know what person or their backstory, it's up to you to figure it out. He will also regularly cite quotes in French (less often German) without any translation, so you'll need to have at least a basic understanding of the language if you want to understand these, or run them through a translator.
Regardless, this stands as one of the best books I've read on WWI and I highly recommend it.
I first became familiar with the Battle of Agincourt through Shakespeare's “Henry V”. Not the play from which the above quote is pulled, but the 1989 film with Kenneth Branagh – featuring his moving rendition of that Saint Crispin's Day speech. To this day, if I need to get pumped up for something (a test, a new job, etc) I'll put on that scene. I defy anyone to not be stirred by Branagh's inspiring, pugnacious delivery. That said, Shakespeare's account of Agincourt in the play is circumstantial. He doesn't describe the battle in any way, but talks about the events leading up to it and after it.
The more recent film “The King” also utilizes Shakespeare as source material, but then tries to pry in the pitched battle itself. It's well done technically, though I feel it fails to properly depict the sheer scope of the Battle of Agincourt. The battle in “The King” feels like a romper-stomper featuring a few hundred men at arms and archers, where the actual battle pitted thousands against one another, and included at least 3000-5000 English archers (depending on the estimates you believe). It's those estimates that largely feature as the subject in today's book review.
Anne Curry's 1415 Agincourt, A New History digs deep into those numbers, utilizing a variety of chronicles and first hand accounts, including the Gesta Henrici Quinti, Liber Metricus, Titus Livius, the Pseudo-Elmham, the Brut, the Religieux, and others. For an event that took place over 600 years ago, there's a surprising amount of information about it. That said, the information is sometimes contradictory (as many historical chronicles tend to be). Maybe the French account differs from English account. Perhaps the author was viewing the battle from the rear where they couldn't see so well, or maybe they were incited to exaggerate the facts in order to make one side or the other appear more valiant.
Curry pours over these accounts and does her best to distill them, to compare them to one another, and ultimately to pull out a likely truth. Some of these truths are almost certain, as various chroniclers might describe the same thing. Others are more obscured by time and the vagaries of the available accounts, so we're left asking questions or making assumptions.
1415 Agincourt, A New History is a comprehensive analysis of the battle and not really a narrative of it. The author covers the political events leading up to Henry's campaign in Normandy, dives into the Siege of Harfleur, and even dissects the activities that took place post-Agincourt – but she does so employing a scholarly approach. Curry does a good job of reaching her conclusions and that brings them real tangible credibility, but this sometimes makes for a more academic and ponderous read. I started this book in March of 2022 and only completed it in December. It took Henry less time to complete his whole campaign in France and sail back to England. There is a lot of data that's examined, and it sometimes feels like the narrative is only a loose framework binding that data together.
With that said, it's also a fascinating and rewarding read for those willing to go once more unto the breach. The examination of the battle itself (which starts at about the halfway mark of this book) dives deep into the geography of the place, the timing of events, the logistics of how the English archers and their long-bows managed to sway the odds, and how the French seemed powerless to stop it. All of this is examined closely at a technical level – and I couldn't get enough.
Wow - a wonderful exploration of the history of the crossbow. Thoroughly researched and well thought out, I flew through this book in no time, and learned a lot along the way. Ellis-Gorman does a nice job explaining all the various iterations of the device and how they differ mechanically in the first few chapters, and then goes on to talk about the major historical occurrences. There's a lot of postulating going on. Much of the history the book raises cannot be verified or known for sure, and we're reminded regularly that “this is just another mystery that will likely remain unsolved” or “more study is required”, and while any history book worth it's salt is bound to ask more questions than it answers, it seems like the author is reminding us of this more regularly than necessary.
It's a small criticism, since I found this book so engaging. I was especially fascinated by the section on the West African crossbow, and by the hunting/trap crossbows.
An interesting study of tabletop wargaming design for educational and recreational purposes by someone who is intimately familiar with the subject matter, having designed many games himself and taught classes on the subject. It's not surprising that the book, therefore, reads largely like an academic textbook. It was a little surprising that it also feels a little self-absorbed at times, with references to Sabin's own work, the work of his students, etc. It's a testament, therefore, to how good the rest of the book is and how clearly the ideas are laid out. that I could overlook the scattered navel gazing moments. Sabin uses the first two parts to he book to explain the systems and mechanics of wargaming, detailing why he believes this approach or that works best. It may feel remedial to some gamers, but I think this is where the book shines. Do we weigh down the experience with detailed chrome to enhance the accuracy of the simulation, or do we abstract or streamline parts to make the experience more enjoyable or digestable? His third part is filled with examples of play. I recommend this book to anyone who has any kind of interest in wargaming or simulation gaming, but it's difficult to recommend to anyone outside that small circle.
I became familiar with Bernard Cornwell through his Sharpe TV series, with Sean Bean. His passion for Napoleonic subject matter is clear, so getting a chance to read his non-fictional account of the battle of Waterloo is a treat.
Mr. Cornwell's telling of the story of Quatre Bras is quite good, even if his telling of the battle of Ligny feels somewhat weaker. Still, he does a good job of explaining Napoleon's failures here in chasing down and destroying the Prussian army, which ultimately enabled his defeat at Waterloo.
This was my first major dive into the history of the Napoleonic era, but the intimacy and brutality of the fighting of this era is fascinating and captures my imagination. It's no surprise that so many soldiers (from each of the three armies) were left unaccounted for after the battle of Waterloo. It must have been simply terrifying.
Seveneves took me a long time to complete, and only after two false starts. I'm glad I endured though, because for as long as the ride was, the destination was worth it. It's a tantalizing, thought provoking, harrowing story of the end of civilization as we know it, and it's beautifully executed.
I do with Neal was better at writing character. I feel like his characters are not as fully illustrated as I wish they were, and I have a hard time relating to them. As a result, I often don't care for the characters as much as I probably should, or as much as Neal probably hopes I would. Despite this, the world building and storytelling is so perfectly done, I can excuse a lack of dimensionality in our characters.
I feel like Seveneves would make a terrific limited series on some streaming service - or a film series. It's split up nicely into three sizable acts already. Act 1: Day Zero until the Hard Rain. Act 2: Hard Rain until the Council of the Seven Eves. Act 3: 5,000 years later.
In a lot of ways, I feel like this novel harkens back to the classic sci-fi of the 50's and 60's. Isaac Asimov. Frank Herbert. Arthur C. Clarke. There's a real sense of the core idea here, and Stephenson explores it thoroughly.
Terrific book. It's a long one - the second longest in the series - but it's paced nicely. This is the one that takes what has, up until this point, been a kid's story and brings it kicking and screaming into a somewhat darker and slightly more menacing place. At this stage, it's decidedly a young-adult novel, with themes that are not insignificantly stepped up. The book opens with an exciting Quidditch World Cup event, which sets the stage for the tri-wizard tournament - a competition that provides the framework of this novel, and ultimately provides the impetus for the big closing moments. New characters, new spells, blooming romances, and plenty of good vs evil. We're excited to get into The Order Of The Phoenix!
Dan Jones' “The Hollow Crown” is a terrifically written narrative of the Wars Of The Roses, starting with a brief accounting of Henry V and quickly jumping in to the bumbling years under Henry VI, setting the stage for the Yorkist revolt and usurpation of the throne by Edward IV. This began generations of battles features warring cousins, ultimately culminating in Henry VII and the rise of the Tudors, who managed to bring together the quarrelsome Yorks and Lancastrians under one banner. Lovingly written with a keen attention to detail and a thankfully limited amount of conjecture. This is the second of Dan Jones' books I've read (the first being The Plantagenets, which is a sort of prelude to this book), and I'll admit I didn't expect to enjoy it as much as I did.
A beautifully rendered tale of Robin Hood pieced together from a variety of folk poems and ballads, updated from Olde English, and weaved into a single coherent narrative. Though there is no one “canonical” text for Robin Hood, I feel like this one does justice to the spirit of the story by utilizing these original sources and not (seemingly) straying too far from them. As a result, each chapter reads like a tiny adventure on its own, roughly tied together with the chapter in front and behind. This made it an easy book to read, as there was little fear you might lose a thread.
My experience with Robin Hood is almost entirely formed by Hollywood and Disney. Though there is no “canonical” text for the story, I walked away from Lancelyn Green's novel feeling as though I learned something new about the legend of Robin Hood. Is there any basis in truth for these tales? History.com writes “English legal records suggest that, as early as the 13th century, Robehod, Rabunhod and other variations had become common epithets for criminals. But what had inspired these nicknames: a fictional tale, an infamous bandit or an amalgam of both?”
We're unlikely to ever know, but this is part of the mystery that makes Robin Hood so enticing, and has allowed for so many interpretations (for good or for bad). Going back to something closer to the original tales, however, was a pleasant and enlightening escape.
Wow. What a terrific written account of the ill-fated Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition, and of the character of Ernest Shackleton and his crew. The name of the ship, “Endurance”, came from Shackleton's family motto Fortitudine vincimus (“By endurance we conquer”), but it was the ideal name for the vessel, which fought so hard against the crushing ice floes before ultimately succumbing and sinking to the bottom of the Weddell Sea. There were several major stages of the Shackleton expedition's escape from certain death - beginning with the loss of their ship. From there, they were cast adrift on various ice floes for months, before they were able to launch their lifeboats. This began the arduous sea voyage to the desolate Elephant Island. Once there, the group was as safe as they could be, and Shackleton took five others with him on board the best of the lifeboats, the James Caird, to sail to South Georgia Island - 1,200km's away. Using nothing more than a sextant, a compass, and some charts, with occupants that were tired, starving, freezing, wet, and suffering all manner of maladies, they found South Georgia - and the rest is history.
Lansing pulls from a variety of sources, and tells a fair and balanced narrative of the expedition. Brilliantly written, filled with excitement and tension, Endurance tells the most incredible survival story of the greatest antarctic explorer who ever lived.
I'm giving Ringworld a 3, but this is a conditional rating. I think Ringworld is both a book with a terrific story and convincing world-building, but it is unfortunately told through the eyes of flat, uninteresting characters utilizing dated, often chauvinistic dialogue. A lot of “golden age” sci-fi falls into this trap, having been written by middle-aged white men in an era when this sort of behaviour and attitude was left unchecked. I understand that, and can usually appreciate the work as a piece from its place and time. It feels jarring though when the only female character behaves ignorantly, acts clumsy, and is hyper sexualized by the writer - and the male characters around her treat her critically because of these things. However, if you can look past this (and there were a few moments where I really struggled) the concept of the Ringworld itself is good fun, especially when Niven manages to blow your mind with the scale of it. I do feel like I'm kind of done with the saga though and as interesting as the Ringworld is, I don't feel compelled enough to read the other four books in the series.
Hard to believe the series is done, and I've been putting off writing my review so I could have some time to digest it. What did I think of Leviathan Falls? I think it was terrific. In terms of the series as a whole, I think this book caps off what is likely my favourite of the “trilogies”, and I like the arc that the three trilogies created together. I liked the new character of Tanaka, and the culmination of the characters of Jim, Amos, Alex, and Naomi. While I had kind of anticipated the large beats this book might take in terms of it's plot, it was wonderfully written - in an exciting and stirring way. Even if you anticipate the twists and turns - it's the details that make The Expanse really pop. Even out in the orbit of some planet on the other side of the galaxy, or inside the weird ring space, the writers have been terrific at making characters and situations relatable - and I think that's a hallmark of The Expanse. This isn't a story about heroic archetypes - it's a story about regular blue collar folks caught up in plans much larger than they are - and the lengths to which they are willing to go. I'm going to miss my friends on board The Rocinante - but I'm eager to see what James SA Corey has in store for the future, assuming Ty and Daniel decide to work together again. Cheers, beltalowdas!
After the first book, which was a proper cracker, the second book does a fair enough job moving the story along in interesting ways, but it maybe didn't shine quite as much as the first book. I liked the character of Gilderoy Lockhart, and the climactic battle with the Basilisk, but things seemed to otherwise progress somewhat slowly. Thankfully, the third book seems to have recovered the proper pacing.
I wasn't sure if Andy Weir could capture my imagination again like he did with The Martian. It turned out that tis second book, Artemis, wasn't up to the task - but Project Hail Mary? That's a different story. From its amnesia infused beginnings and all along its two-timeline narrative that eventually dovetails together, the book works brilliantly at unravelling a mystery. Similar to The Martian, the plotline here is driven by one person (or in the case of the second timeline, a small team of people) overcoming massive technical and science problems. I feel like this is a signature of Weir's best work, though time will tell. Project Hail Mary simply proves that Andy Weir is not a one hit wonder and that, in fact, his best work may be yet to come.
A great introductory look at the HBC, how they started, and the major players throughout their history. Andra-Warner does a good job at proceeding through the beats without straggling for too long on details - which is what I was looking for as a first glimpse into this corner of history. I'll be diving in to the history deeper with Stephen Bown's book “The Company” and by examining some of the journals and papers cited in this book.
Fantastic glimpse into a what-if scenario about an alien pandemic that threatens to wipe out civilization if a small team of scientists don't stop it first. Well written examination of the scientific process. How it works, and where it breaks down. It's impressive to imagine that this book was written in the 1960's, but still feels so current. This was a timely read, considering the circumstances in the world (COVID-19), and while I suspect that helped engross me in the story - Crichton does a wonderful job all on his own illustrating an impending sense of urgency and dread.
If you woke up tomorrow and suddenly had a brain full of memories of a life you, until this moment, have no recollection of living — what would you do? When memories become so fragile and ephemeral, how do you know what is actually real? Blake Crouch examines a space-time crisis of human making with such a pure and focused vision. The story reminds me most of the movie Edge Of Tomorrow, which is based on concepts in the Japanese novel All You Need Is Kill by Hiroshi Sakurazaka. Only, in Crouch's book, the stakes feel more personal and thus, carry more emotional weight. It's a wonderful, if sometimes mind bending sci-if story.
By now the folks who follow me here likely know that I have a love for Mark Kurlansky's approach to writing about history - tracing a single object's impact on the world - as he did with “Salt” and “Milk”. In this book, the author turns his attention away from edibles and toward a seemingly more mundane subject - the history of paper! I suspected there would be some interesting historical tidbits about this fibrous stuff, but in this work Kurlansky explains that it's not the paper itself that is the focus of the examination, but the various methods of communication that humanity has employed through the use of the stuff. From writing on hides, to parchment and velum, to handcrafted art paper, to more modern printing, and even Japanese nori (seaweed paper)... Kurlansky weaves a story. I particularly liked the argument that he repeatedly makes about technology not changing society - but that technology is developed in response to changing societies. “Paper” is another fascinating trip through time, and while it may not be quite as engaging as the aforementioned books on Salt or Milk, it still holds a lot of interesting moments.
An excellent novella, even though I had some idea of where it was going. This is partly because of when I read it. I wish I had read this right between 6 ad 7... it would have certainly have created a much different experience with book 7 and a huge difference on book 8. Regardless, one of the best!
This story is a cute reimagining of the Christian story of Jesus, using a seagull who aspires to an existence beyond the simple gathering of food. It was published in the 1970's - a leftover artifact of the hippy free love revolution the late 60's, and while there's a nice story about morality and the value of perseverance, it's fairly shallow. Still, for what amounts to an elaborate short story, I found it entertaining and engaging and something worth reading.
I have worked in and around the IT industry for over 15 years and grew up, similarly to Snowden, enamored with technology. I got my first PC, a XT clone, at around age 10 and started running my own BBS shortly after. I remember those first days of the internet, my first website, and the days before social media. None of what he exposed in 2013 really surprised me or people like me - at least not from a technological perspective. It was always an assumption that this stuff could happen. Taking over cameras, stepping through backdoors in routers, listening in on microphones, browsing private social media pages. Of course that's possible. What we didn't fully appreciate was the scope. The story Edward Snowden has to tell is an important one... and the book covers his life and the events surrounding his whistleblowing with great detail and emotion. It not only explains what he did, but he tries to tell the story of why he did it. It's a wonderfully crafted book that should be standard reading for any technologist.
That the US government is collecting data on such an enormous scale, passively, and storing it in perpetuity... that should frighten everyone, and it's enough to start making you paranoid of the things you do online. Of course, I'm just a middle aged white guy in Canada who lives a fairly standard, boring life. I'm not a juicy surveillance target. Or am I?
Hello?
...are you reading this?
Hello?