Jeff

Heard about this one on NPR and was intrigued by something of a realistic horror story. I was surprised by the back story that helps fuel the horror-ish elements of the “present”–told in a reversed chronology, the back story is (of course) more horrific and more realistic than the current-day narrative. It makes for a quite interesting read, with insights into where fear can come from (experience!), and who the worst monsters can be (hint: not strangers).

A deceivingly complex little book about life, death, and witches (maybe). I'm not sold on the art–some of Moore's wonderful simple style doesn't work as well with horror as it does with some other stuff I've read of his. (Full disclosure: I was never a Strangers In Paradise fan–weird, right?–but I did like the art in that book.) That said, the art is still lovely, and some of it really sticks with me; mostly the little personal moments.

I'd definitely keep reading...

This one was an odd mix of interesting art and story, but the limits of each kept me from thoroughly enjoying it–I would have enjoyed it more if we had either gotten more back story on Lem (his childhood flashbacks were quite engaging, but not utilized enough to move the character development or story along), or shifted it to more of an ensemble book (which might have made sense, given the format of mimicking a blues song in comic form). As it stood, we got just enough about Lem to care a bit, but not enough to help us through the brutal storyline.

Still, an engaging book, with some beautiful art. Glad my library carries it!

This is a heartrendingly great read. Found it in the library, having no knowledge of either of its creators–seek it out and check it out.

I supported the Kickstarter for this book, and what a great book it is. I'm glad to have a physical book in this case, because the layout is more of an illustrations-accompany-text than a traditional comic book format, so I think a .pdf layout would have been a problem. The drawings are lovely, the writing is mostly well done and straightforward. The few detours toward flowery language were appropriate, I think, given the interestingly complex character that Tesla was.

I learned a lot about Tesla, and enjoyed the illustrations–the one thing that was lacking was a more detailed, more involved description of the technical details regarding AC and DC, I thought. Just a preference–I would have dug a few intricate, close up diagrams of the actual AC engines–even though the kind of sparse schematic drawings were also cool and interesting.

I can't believe I put off reading this simply because I don't dig Batman that much. It's not about Batman at all. Or Catwoman. Mostly (for me) it's about Renee Montoya, a cop with a bad attitude and anger management issues who also happens to be queer. The queer elements play a part of the story without making her into an after school special. Can't wait to read the older Gotham Central books now...and Rucka's Stumptown.

Read this in an attempt to understand everybody's fascination with Nabokov, particularly the fact that so many folks dig Lolita as much as they do; I have tried several times to read Lolita, and just don't find it as entrancing as most folks.

I loved Despair, however. Relatively sparse writing, with the feeling of watching an accident happen in slow motion, this is a darkly existentialist book. It reminded me of Camus or Sartre, but with even more bleak humor. Will it be my gateway into enjoying Nabokov's most famous work? We'll see. I think I'll read Pale Fire next...

This is a solid book of crime fiction with a multifaceted, interesting female lead, which is not something I've run into much in fiction, much less in comic book form. The art is appropriately pulpy, and the coloring in particular lends itself wonderfully to the tone of the book.

Can't wait to read more Stumptown books...

Dear Jean Paul Sartre,

I think you would like this book, which begins many pages with “Dear Jean Paul Sartre”.

Yours,
Jeff

What a fun book. This is the first fantasy-ish book I've enjoyed since the God's War series by Kameron Hurley, which it reminded me of, a bit. Just enough world-building to not get in the way of the quick-ride plot. The characters, while somewhat familiar types, interact in ways that are fun and allow for a bit of development.

I particularly like that much is left to the reader to know how this world came about, what its larger components are–there is religious magic, “ghuls” and shapeshifting going on here, and none of it needs to be explained; it's all there for the fun of the novel.

This is the first book I've read by Eggers, and I went into this book with a chip on my shoulder. The effusive praise for his work was something of a red flag for me–I tend to read fiction through the lenses of feminism and social justice, and so many critically acclaimed male authors tend to disappoint when read that way. When the central character, a middle-aged white businessman runs into a colorful local in Saudi Arabia who becomes his driver, I wanted to put the book down. “Wacky local Saudi Arabian cab driver” just seemed like a poor setup. And it's true that there is still the whiff of the “magical negro” here, a kind of Driving Miss Daisy for a dude traveling around Saudi Arabia. But it's also true that Eggers gives so much interesting life to these characters (and others in the book) that such a character ploy isn't as distracting as it usually is.

There's just a lot here, in a fairly slim book. Lots of levels of relationships: Between people, between people and their countries, between daily life and existential angst. Despite its flaws (how about a book about the driver?), I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I don't think I'll jump to read the next Eggers book (particularly now that it looks like he may have been stealing ideas from a woman author https://theboykings.squarespace.com/tbk-the-circle/), but if some friends have one they really loved, I will likely give it a read.

I like the art and layout, and found the approach to the story intriguing, but it wasn't my cup of tea. Immonen's minimalist-ish style didn't lend itself well to a short story told about a few characters, in part because there wasn't enough visually to distinguish characters from each other. I wanted to like it more, but the connections just weren't there for me–between the characters, between different parts of the narrative, between the art and the words.

This is not a complex book, but this is a fairly simple story, in the end: Jeffry Dahmer was once a messed up kid with a crappy family life. The central tenet of this story is that, with a little help from any of the adults around him, what Dahmer became may never have come to pass.

I suspect an even deeper, complex sort of story could be told by Backderf–perhaps he will do some fiction that delves into these depths in more layered ways? I don't think Dahmer's story needed that layering, but it would be interesting to better understand how some kids who live troubled childhoods end up being serial killers, while some “just” end up harming themselves for the rest of their lives, for instance.

The art is great. The story is straightforward. It's an oddly fun read.

Didn't enjoy this as much as 2312. The future history of Mars is interesting, but the characters just weren't for me, and I need both plot and character to really enjoy a story. I also felt this could have been way more tightly edited. Of course, this is a hugely popular trilogy, so most likely it's a great book that just isn't my cup of tea!

I'm a bit confused by the book blurb, since this story is just as much a story about an entire family as it is about “two brothers”; that said, no blurb could really cover the ground that this book covers. Full of poignant looks into several different lives, tracing how a serious tragedy can play out for over forty years (for better and for worse), it's difficult to not reflect on one's own life in comparison to the lives lived in the book.

The writing is straightforward, almost to a fault–usually I enjoy a bit more wordplay, but for this story it works just fine, laying out these lives like points on a map.

It's poetry. I don't read much poetry. I will always and forever read Chelsea Martin's poetry. It's sad and makes me chuckle.

Very cool ideas make this worth the short read. (The illustrations are fantastic as well.) I have loved Chiang's short stories for their minimalism, but this novelette reads more like an outline for a longer book. I kind of want Chiang to flesh more out here, so it wasn't as enjoyable a read as the other stuff of his that I have read.

I haven't ever ready anything quite like this. Chock full of ideas, surreal and satiric, I loved it. Sullivan uses the now-familiar trope of all-the-people-of-a-certain-gender have died off in the most ingenious ways, the whole while dropping in name-braded humor that really was Laugh Out Loud.

This is one of those books that makes me look at the world differently, knowing that my take on reality isn't as solid as I would like to think.

Can't wait to read her other stuff.

(Oh, and it's feminist as hell. I kind of can't believe that this book got published, given both it's ideas and it's prevalent use of “cunt” and “pussies”.)

The strongest parts of this book have to do with the wonderful details about the relationships between women–the central protagonist and her mother and grandmother. There is nothing simple about these relationships, and they ring true. The book is worth reading for this stuff alone.

I didn't enjoy the plot, or the “magical realism” (is it really still magical realism when a spell makes somebody invisible?–seems like just magic); I suspect that so-called “urban fantasy” isn't my favorite flavor of fantasy, which is no fault of the book, but I also think that the plot and setting weren't strong enough to hold the wonderful characters. Two characters talking?–GREAT BOOK. Two characters out in the “magical” world?– YOU LOST ME.

I'll likely try another book by Hopkinson, since this was her first, just because I liked the characters so much...

The noir aspects of this book, along with the the audacity of making elevator inspectors heroic, push this close to five-star territory for me. A joy of a book, with a black woman protagonist(!), a murder mystery where the victim is an empty elevator car; the joy comes when you slowly realize you're reading a fairly nuanced book on race relations in the United States.

As with many short story collections, this one was hit-or-miss for me. The stories that resonated were fantastic, even though several of the other stories felt very much like half-completed stories (Going to France, in particular). That said, the entire book is worth the two best stories (Honeymoon, The Kingdom of the Blind)–one of which is a sort of first-contact story about communicating with an accidentally human-built A.I., which was just fantastic.

This was a letdown for me. There is some interesting day-in-the-life-of-an-American-soldier in WWII stuff, but the sci-fi aspects are mostly just frustrating and muddled. Definitely some cool ideas here, but I was left wanting in the execution. Probably should note that it has won major awards, so perhaps it's just not my favorite flavor of sci-fi...

I didn't finish this one, mostly because I think the story is less engaging without having read some of the other books that take place in this universe. Going to go back and read Cyteen, and then perhaps finish this.

Some really interesting concepts, and a solid ending, but it felt a bit forced, plot-wise. Look forward to reading more Ziegler books in the future though.

Over the years, I keep trying to enjoy William Gibson's writing. So many people cite him as an influence, he's relatively prolific and he has so many cool ideas, I just keep hoping I'll enjoy his work. I think, “Maybe I've matured enough,” or “perhaps I will ‘get' him now”; but it turns out, I just don't dig his writing enough to enjoy his books much.

Pattern Recognition has one central idea that is really cool–the main character, Cayce, can intuit whether or not a logo will be successful or not, in part because she has visceral reactions to such patterns (seeing the Michelin man makes her physically ill). This is a fantastic idea. There's also the sci-fi-that's-not-futuristic aspect of this book, which is kind of fun. It's interesting to see how dated this book is, which I'd guess was purposeful on Gibson's part (everybody uses hotmail; and a character “pulls out his Palm” at one point).

...and, that's about it, as far as I can tell. Yeah, there's a soooper-dooper-mysterious set of film clips being released, and Italians trying to kill her, or something. But I've no emotional investment in Cayce, or anyone else in the book, because the minimal character development doesn't give me any reason to. And the mystery-clip plot just didn't draw me in.